#man this reawakened a bit of trauma

[probablyaseamonster]

Me up at 2:30 AM trying to find a my little pony speedpaint series I liked 5 years ago, scrolling through piles of gore and smut only to find that the artist deleted their account and all their videos...

#the average mlp fan experience #man this reawakened a bit of trauma #the fact that a completely clean artist left the fandom out of shame #probably because they spun characters on a wheel and made fankids of them #but that's not even the cringiest type of thing to me #like okay i'll give it to them that the gore mlp artists are talented #but bro... what's so appealing about mlp? #what draws you like wasps to a juice? #i would like to have a discussion about this #i forget the artist's name but it was something involving light brown foods i think #i feel... loss #mlp #mlp fandom #cw mention of smut #cw mention of gore #just in case #bronies really traumatized a whole generation #but honestly I think we had it better than the next few #what a thing to find when you're barely a teen #thanks internet

[floatyhands]

I'm so annoyed when people are like "Harvey Dent chose to go evil, he gave up on morality once the world hurt him". Bro. Since Eye of the Beholder, Two-Face at his best is when he's written as someone who has been always fighting. He had been fighting to keep a hold on that morality, to believe the world isn't rigged cruelty or heatless chance, to not let the trauma of his painful upbringing keep him down, to fight for a better Gotham. His passion for the law was him searching for order in the chaos of chance. Sure, he lost that battle, but he fought! If anything, he lost BECAUSE he fought in an incredibly self-destructive way. His attachment to the law and criminal justice only added stress to his mind and made him repress his mental scars instead of heal. The fall into villainy after the acid-scarring was not a man letting go, it was a man seeing the ledge he was hanging on by the fingernails crumble and give way. To say he chose this shit is like saying a depressed person gave up and let depression win.

This is especially annoying if you take into account Two-Face's entire comic book history, where when he initially appeared, he recovered and went on to be a completely law-abiding citizen. Except, Two-Face was too popular a concept, so first they had to bring the impostors who framed Harvey, then when that didn't stick, they scarred his face again and brought Two-Face right back. And since then, it's just been poor Harv getting dragged around the revolving door in and out of villainy, with him recovering and then some horrible thing happens to him that reawakens his, or the darker alter's, violent impulses. Or worse still, they have Harvey always be terrible. That he was always a two-faced villain deep down, and the scar simply brought it to the surface. They kill his good side off, in favour of making him a two-bit gangster with a coin flip gimmick. How could he not blame fate for his villainy? The hand of fate, the hand of the writers, always drag him back to villainy rather than let the Antihero seeking redemption idea stick.

Perhaps that's changed in recent years, I haven't been keeping up. But don't you ever say that Harvey Dent didn't fight.

#harvey dent #two face #twoface #rant #if i see one more “trauma reveals what you are” take #or someone have harvey try to One Bad Day a similarly facially disfigured good victim #or have him rig the coin toss to be a morton's fork #i will toss a coin into their grave

[goodwhump-temp]

Fringe: Peter Bishop Whump

SEASON ONE

1x01 Pilot - Angry towards his father/Walter 1x03 The Ghost Network - Stalked, argument 1x04 The Arrival - Angry, kidnapped (signs of struggle), bleeding from the mouth, tortured; wire put in his nose, electrocuted, convulsing, weak, shot with strange gun, collapse, unconscious, concussion, badly bruised 1x05 Power Hungry - Bruised face and wrists, tired, painful shock, bandaged wrists 1x07 In Which We Meet Mr. Jones - Painfully electrocuted, delerious 😊 1x08 The Equation - Ominously hypnotized 1x09 The Dreamscape - Hit in the face 1x12 The No-Brainer - Protective, angry, drunk 1x13 The Transformation - Undercover, held at gunpoint 1x16 Unleashed - Arguing with Waltuh, desperate for Walter 1x20 There's More Than One of Everything - Emotional bonding with Waltuh, manhandled, gravestone

SEASON TWO

2x01 A New Day in the Old Town - MEGHAN MARKLE, emotional, depressed 2x02 Night of Desirable Objects - Almost shot, bit by skeletal monster 2x03 Fracture - Talks about past in Iraq, fighting, punched, restrained 2x05 Dream Logic - Talks about childhood nightmares, starts remembering, wakes from nightmare 2x07 Of Human Action - Mind controlled, kidnapped, intense pain, forced to hurt people, car crash, knocked unconscious, chest pain/bandaged 2x08 August - Held at gunpoint, forehead bleeding 2x09 Snakehead - Knocked out, captured, bleeding, forced to swallow parasite, badly bruised face 2x10 Grey Matters - Sad about Walter, desperate to find him, emotional 2x11 Unearthed - Held at gunpoint 2x12 Johari Window - Car crash, briefly unconscious, shot at, bloody eyebrow, chased and shot at, held at gunpoint 2x13 What Lies Below - Infected, crazy, bloody nose, violent, knocked down, knocked out, weak 2x15 Jacksonville - Oliva learns the truth about Peter (he still doesn't know) 2x16 Peter - His story/death, sick/dying child, funeral, "significant" to the baldis, abducted, falls through the ice, drowning 2x19 The Man from the Other Side - Shot at, risking his life, loud noise, pain, knocked back into hood of car, unconscious, bloody ear, hospitalized, back pain, learns the truth, emotional, dissapears 2x20 Brown Betty - Missing, manhandled, punched multiple times, heart stolen, dying, weak, dies, painful reawakening 2x21 Northwest Passage - Missing/friends searching for him, tired, stalked, tranq shot at him, attacked with hammer, held at gunpoint/taken to… 2x22 Over There pt. 1 - Still missing, in danger from a prophecy, wakes in hospital, emotional 2x23 Over There pt. 2 - In danger the whole episode

SEASON THREE

3x02 The Box - Painful talk with Waltuh, scared of the prophecy/possible death, shot by the ear, deafened, headache, almost hit by a train 3x03 The Plateau - Real Olivia's hallucination 3x04 Do Shapeshifters Dream of Electric Sheep? - Panic, manipulated by "Olivia" 3x05 Amber 31422 - Real Olivia's confrontational hallucination 3x07 The Abducted - Contacted by Olivia, feels betrayed, held at gunpoint, paralyzing injection, nausea, bad headache 3x09 Marionette - Guilt, emotional talk with Olivia 3x10 The Firefly - Walter obsesses thinking the Observer will kill Peter, almost hit by a truck, scared, shot with weird gun, unconscious, poisoned, collapse, seizure, unconscious 3x11 Reciprocity - Nosebleed, insomnia, scared, lab tests, unusually high heart rate, knocked to the ground, being suspicious the whole episode, held at gunpoint, psychologically changed from the machine/turned killer 3x12 Concentrate and Ask Again - Suspicious, scares Waltuh 3x15 Subject 13 - Flashback to almost killing himself as a child, runs away 3x19 Lysergic Acid Diethlamide - Nervous, high/tripping, freaked out, passes out, knocked down, held at gunpoint, freaking out, restrained/comforted, trauma blanket, loopy 3x20 6:02 AM EST - Sacrificing himself, aggressively knocked back with electricity, falls from great height, very bloody face/head trauma 3x21 The Last Sam Weiss - Hospitalized, amnesia, walks out of hospital, confused, sacrifices himself, pain, head wound, shrapnel to the stomach, passes out 3x22 The Day We Died - Hospitalized, extreme pain, emergency surgery, emotional at funeral, depressed, extreme pain, dying, wiped from existence

SEASON FOUR

4x01-4x03 - Seeping into reality 4x04 Subject 9 - Breaking into reality, wakes up in a lake, reunion, friends dont remember him 4x05 Novation - Held for interrogation 4x06 And Those We've Left Behind - Emotionally abandoned from his father, causing time slips, stabbed in the neck (technology), knocked out 4x08 Back to Where You've Never Been - Desperate, "prisoner" turned prisoner 4x09 Enemy of My Enemy - Admits to being scared 4x12 Welcome to Westfield - Kicked to the ground 4x13 A Better Human Being - Scar on his hand, uncomfortable, baited into a trap 4x14 The End of All Things - Desperate, mind converged, pain, knocked out, kidnapped, knocked over, slight pain/ache, held at gunpoint, punched, 4x15 A Short Story About Love - Heartbroken, thing found on his iris 4x20 Worlds Apart - Walters are scared for Peter 4x21 Brave New World Pt. 1 - Knocked down, fight, hit multiple times, pain, choked, shoulder dislocated, body controlled by Olivia 4x22 Brave New World Pt. 2 - Sling, falls from great height, hurts arm, emotional, slapped

SEASON FOUR

5x01 Transilience Thought Unifier Model-11 - Caught in explosion, bloody, emotional, shot at, cries, "dead" 5x03 The Recordist - Held at gunpoint 5x04 The Bullet That Saved The World - Mind read, headache, chased, caught in an explosion, badly bruised, bloody, shot with weird gun, emotional, heartbroken, emotional shut down 5x05 An Origin Story - Depressed, electrocutes himself, kicked across the room, punched, bleeding mouth, bruised, very angry, self surgery, intense pain 5x06 Through the Looking Glass and What Walter Found There - Knocked down, punched, slowly becoming an observer 5x07 Five-Twenty-Ten - Becoming an observer, insomnia, ear starts bleeding, brain overwhelmed, intense pain, headache, going psycho, confesses to Olivia, fully emotionless, hair falling out 5x08 The Human Kind - Full strength observer fight, punched, bruised, stabbed in the shoulder, bleeding and bruised, emotional, self surgery, extreme pain, emotional release, sobbing 5x09 Black Blotter - Insomnia, bruised/bandaged forehead, headache, shot at 5x13 An Enemy of Fate - Emotional talk with Walter, sobbing, fight with an Observer, punched multiple times, shot onto a car and into a wall

#whumplist #whump list #emotional whump #whump #fringe whump #peter bishop #fringe peter bishop #peter bishop whump #fringe

[mocksart]

for your borrower au! how is Stanley treated in general before the narrator realizes he is sentient? what's the worst thing the narrator might do to Stanley in this time period? what is the softest moment?

sorry for all the questions, I just love this idea a LOT. g/t stuff is SOOO compelling to me :3

Hey, no worries, I love questions! If you can't tell, I also love this idea a lot lol

It is important to me to make it clear that the narrator is not intentionally cruel. He still sees Stanley as a living being with needs and wants.

Stanley is fed well - mostly seeds and grains due to his mouse-like appearance. This isn't wrong, as mice are also omnivores, though it does get a little boring. So basics like food and water are always available.

Of course, he is kept in a cage.

In my head, it's more akin to the ones rabbits are kept in, rather than mice or rats, but that's mostly due to me being more familiar with rabbits. Also the mental image of metal bars is more compelling to me than the plastic tubs that mice are usually kept in.

Standard bedding situation. It's less comfortable than his pile of fabric scraps at home, but it's not unbearable by any means.

The Narrator has a habit of talking to himself, and this turns into a sort of half-talking to Stanley as well. When he does directly address stanley, though, it's usually because he's frustrated with something Stanley is or is not doing. Plus, as in the game, the man is not above petty insults.

I've thought a bit more on it and I think it might be more fair to say that, rather than not realizing, the narrator can't admit that Stanley is sentient.

Subconsciously, he knows. He can see how smart Stanley is. How Stanley responds to his words. But he can't bring that thought into his conscious mind. Because the man has already done some terribly dehumanizing things to this creature. And admitting that this thing is a person would mean that he's an absolute monster. And he's not! Haha really, guys, he wouldnt do that!

The worst thing he does, especially early on, is leave Stanley alone. At one time, the borrower would have jumped at the opportunity to have some time to himself, just not like this. The basement lab is dark and lonely. Being in this environment for long stretches of time takes a toll on the borrower's mental health.

As time goes on, the Narrator does realize something is wrong. Subject 427 used to have so much more energy. It hardly tries to escape and barely protests when handled. He semi-correctly guesses that 427 needs some kind of enrichment.

He has Stanley for a few months before the borrower manages to escape. Toward the end of that time, he starts bringing Stanley up out of the basement (always in a container of some kind) to show the borrower around and talk to him about his old escapades. (This is where we learn that the narrator is quite well-traveled, and that he no longer leaves the relative safety of his own home.) And there are some genuine moments of connection that happen.

---

Much later on the narrator absolutely mortified by his own past behavior. The man never thought he was capable of causing harm like that, much less unthinkingly.

(He doesn't like to talk about it, a fact that Stanley uses to his advantage sometimes to get what he wants.)

The Narrator works hard to redeem himself as best as he can. He knows there's no way to fully make up for what he's done, but he tries anyway. Because underneath all his issues and traumas and poor coping mechanisms is a person who strives to be better. He wants it so badly. But for a long time it seemed like every time he tried, he just made it worse. So he stopped trying.

Being around another person, especially one who was absolutely not taking his bullshit, reawakened that part of himself that had been buried for so long.

#i love the narrator #hes such a compelling character #and can be taken in so many different directions #im always fascinated to see which parts people focus on when portraying him #sorry i dont have more specific instances of them interacting during this time #most of the stuff i have written is post-escape #this also got so long lmao #the narrator has the emotional intelligence of a rock i swear #and i love talking about it #the stanley parable #tsp #borrower au #asks

[i-like-words]

Checking In (MTaP)

Dusting off this ancient account to post a bit of the My Time At Portia Arlo/Builder!self ficlets that have been absolutely dumping out of me lately. seriously it's just been like. non stop writing for two weeks straight, this video game man has done unspeakable things to my brain and I love it

some lore and context: Adri was discovered frozen within a massive ruin, thawed out, reawoken after a stupid amount of years and whoops - turns out they have Trauma™ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ luckily our favorite good guy redheaded captain takes it upon himself to keep them out of trouble :)

this particular bit takes place like a week after Adri is introduced as the new Builder - they go MIA, leading Arlo and Merlin to swing by the old workshop

(As an aside, my Builder!self is non-binary. By this point no one within the canon knows this, so characters will refer to them with she/her while the narrative uses they/them, just to assuage any confusion or cw people beforehand of misgendering - it's intentional but temporary)

ANYWAY

cw for swearing and aforementioned misgendering

Arlo stepped through the gate and looked around. The yard had become quite overgrown and the workbench was strewn with stray leaves. It looked as though none of the equipment there had even been touched. There was no sign of Adri. Merlin peered over the scene and began jotting down notes.

Approaching the door to the little shack, Arlo noticed the lights were off.

"Do you suppose Adri is out for the day?" he asked.

"Mm, unlikely," Merlin replied, not looking up from her notebook. "Considering no one has really seen nor heard from her since the fireside chat. Not even the farm girl or her grandmother across the way."

Slowly, Arlo reached out and rapped on the wooden door with his knuckles. "Hello?" he called out.

Silence.

He knocked again.

"Anyone home? It's Arlo, from the Civil Corp. I'm here with Director Merlin from the Research Center. I'm sure you remember us from... before."

More silence.

"Uhh, listen. Mayor Gale asked us to check in on you, since no one has really, er, seen or heard from you in a handful of days. You... um, don't have to open the door, but give us a sign that you're alive...?"

"Though opening the door would be the preferable option," Merlin interjected.

Still no answer. Arlo chewed his lip. He wondered if maybe Adri was simply sleeping... understandable that someone who'd been reawakened after being frozen for a few hundred years would probably want to nap off that whole ordeal. But, still, as the one put in charge--self-appointed, yes, but in charge--of making sure Adri was safely acclimating to life in Portia, Arlo hoped that his first check-in with the new Builder wouldn't end with him breaking down the door.

Before he could contemplate that scenario further, said door suddenly parted, ever so slightly, from the door frame; Adri's pale face was barely visible through the open crack. Dark eyes glowered at Arlo, then at Merlin.

"There. I'm alive. Now go away," they said flatly, and with that, the door was shut once more.

Arlo stood there awkwardly, startled, but relieved he wouldn't, in fact, have to resort to property damage. At least not today. "Oh. Ah, that's... good. Um. I... we were hoping to maybe speak with you, see if there was perhaps anything you might need...?"

"What I need is for you to leave me alone," came the muffled, yet terse reply from behind the closed door. Merlin scribbled into her notebook.

"Hmm. Specimen... displaying... antisocial tendencies..."

"You're not helping," Arlo sighed to Merlin, before addressing the door again. "Uh, can we at least ask you a few questions?"

Silence.

"I promise once we're done we'll both leave you be. You have my word."

Silence.

"Do these so-called 'wellness visits' of yours always go this poorly?" Merlin asked, shouldering Arlo aside. She then knocked on the door. And hard. "Ms. Adri, while I understand you're going through a rather difficult period of adjustment, this an important matter, and neither myself nor Mr. Arnold will be vacating the premises until we can speak with you face-to-face."

Silence.

"You were saying?" asked Arlo pointedly, moving himself back in front of the door.

Merlin folded her arms indignantly. "Hmph..."

"Um... sorry about that, Adri," Arlo continued. "Just ignore what she said. Anyway, we're glad to see that you're, in fact, not dead, and it's, uh... pretty clear that you're not exactly in the mood to be social right now, which is totally fine, so we'll... just come back later."

He was about to turn to leave, when the door reopened and swung out slowly with a long creak. Adri stood there in the turnstile, squinting against the sunlight. Their clothes were disheveled, their shoulder-length hair was a tangled mess, and they had dark bags under their eyes. They looked like they hadn't gotten any sleep in days.

The Builder looked between the researcher and the Captain with intense disdain, then turned away and trudged into the dark, unlit void of the house. Merlin followed, notebook in hand. Tentatively, Arlo stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind him.

There wasn't much to the little ramshackle house--four walls, a roof, and a modest wooden bed topped with moth-eaten sheets sat in the corner, nestled beneath a cracked window. The floor groaned under Arlo's boots, and he noticed some floorboards were missing. What little belongings Adri had had been unceremoniously dumped around; even the Builder's clothes that were given to them as a welcoming gift were laying in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed.

Adri slumped onto the edge of the mattress, crossing their arms over their chest, shoulders hunched as if they were trying to fold into themselves.

"Make this quick," they muttered. Their gaze fell into middle distance, and their expression was blank, unfeeling.

Merlin looked up from her notes. "Yes, well," she began, leafing through some pages. "I'll be asking you a series of questions, you answer as honestly and as thoroughly as you can. Don't spare any details, even if you think they aren't important."

"Okay."

"All right... How are you feeling?"

"Terrible." The answer came out before the question had bothered to finish being asked.

Merlin blinked in mild surprise. "Erm, can you... perhaps be a little more specific? Try to refrain from single-word answers."

At this, Adri's head--and eyes--lolled back, and they heaved an irritated sigh. "Oh, my god, fine--I'm 'fucking terrible'. Is that better?"

Merlin did not look amused. She clicked her tongue. "Right. Moving on, then... Have you been experiencing any unusual physical or mental phenomena? Any short-term memory loss, disassociation, or particularly strange dreams or visions?"

"Oh, yeah... I've definitely been having strange visions lately."

Merlin perked up at this. "Have you? Can you describe these visions?"

"Let's see: some blue-haired bozo in dumb glasses shows up and asks me a bunch of stupid ass questions," Adri replied in a flat monotone, their expression unchanging. "I'm having one right now, in fact."

It took a great deal of effort from Arlo to stifle a chuckle. He was always so used to Merlin being the dry and sarcastic one; it was kind of a nice change of pace watching her get a taste of her own medicine. He could see the researcher's jaw jut forward angrily as she wrote something into her notebook before snapping it shut.

"Ms. Adri," she said, the patience dropping from her voice. She removed her goggles and eyed her interviewee as a parent does when lecturing an unruly child. "I am trying to help you. The very least you could do is take this seriously."

"'Help'...?"

In an instant, Adri's cold, indifferent expression changed. Their eyebrows shot up, disappearing into a thick curtain of dark hair. Merlin and Arlo both were taken aback as they suddenly began laughing--a short, bitter bark of a laugh.

"You're trying to 'help' me?" they sneered, rising from the bed and slowly walking forward. Their fists were clenched so hard they were trembling. "Just like you fucking 'helped' me by dragging my half-dead body back into consciousness, in a completely foreign world, separating me from everything I've ever known and loved by HUNDREDS OF YEARS!? THAT kind of 'help'...?!"

Adri was stopped short by a long arm extending in front of them, shielding Merlin, and they glared daggers up at its owner.

"That's enough," Arlo said, his thick brows furrowed. "I don't want to use force on you, but I will if I have to." Beyond his outstretched arm, Merlin was bracing herself behind her notebook and was staring at Adri with fear and anger in her eyes. Adri scowled.

"Tch. Unbelievable... Treated like a damned experiment and I'm expected to be grateful," they mumbled, looking away. Arlo caught a glimpse of a tear sliding down their face, glinting in the dim light of the window. They crawled back onto the bed and curled up into a ball, facing away from their visitors. "Just leave me alone already."

Arlo sighed, running a hand through his tousled red hair. He looked to Merlin. "We should probably go," he said, quietly. Merlin opened her mouth to interject, but, to Arlo's great relief, decided against it.

"...Very well."

They both turned to leave and Arlo opened the door to allow Merlin through. She strode outside, making a beeline for the front gate without another word, no doubt mentally cursing to herself for having to go back to the Research Center strapped for new data. Once she was far enough away, Arlo looked over his shoulder at the small, vulnerable figure laying there, alone, in the dark. Guilt tugged at the inside of his chest.

Adri heard the front door close with a soft click. A brief pause, and then:

"I know she isn't the best at dealing with people, but you mustn't blame Merlin," Arlo said quietly, his gaze fixed on the wood grain of the door. "It wasn't her idea to bring you back. It was mine."

Silence.

"I was the one who found you in the ice," he explained. "And I was the one who insisted that we help you. If you resent me for that, then that's okay. I accept that. You're well within your right to be angry, and... if you're going to be angry at anyone, you can be angry at me."

More silence. Arlo placed his hand on the door's handle. Just as he opened his mouth to apologize for the trouble and make his leave, he was cut off by the nearly inaudible--but unmistakable--sound of sniffling.

"Why did you have to bring me back...?" Adri whimpered, their voice thick and cracking. "Why didn't you just leave me there...?"

Arlo froze. The statement hung heavily like a yoke on his shoulders, pinning him to the spot. He turned and looked over at Adri helplessly as their body shuddered with silent sobs, unsure of what to do. He wanted so badly to comfort them, but he didn't know if he could... or if he even should. Shit. He knew today's visit probably wouldn't go smoothly, but... he had not been prepared for this.

"I... I felt like I had to," he said, crestfallen. Hesitantly, he walked over and sat at the foot of the bed, allowing as much space between himself and Adri as he could manage. "But... I am sorry. Hate me all you want, but please know that I only ever wanted to give you a chance."

"I never asked for your help," Adri mumbled into their pillow. "I never asked for any of this."

"I know." Arlo rubbed at the back of his neck as his gaze fell to the dusty wooden floor.

Another sniffle. "But... I don't hate you."

Arlo looked up again.

"You don't...?" he asked gently, mild surprise in his voice.

"No," Adri responded, heaving a shaky sigh. "I don't even hate that blue-haired bozo, or really, anybody here. I understand why you went out of your way to help me, but I was probably better off being frozen..."

"What makes you say that?"

"Under any other circumstances I'd be happy to have a second chance," Adri said, wiping tears away from their eyes. "I can't even say that my old life was super fucking great anyway, but... it was mine. Knowing that everything that made my life what it was is just... gone, it--" They trailed off, their voice wavering before letting out another sob.

Arlo said nothing, and he sat there, solemnly, as Adri grieved. After a few minutes, they went quiet again.

"Sorry..." they said, sniffling.

"What for...?"

"For making everyone worry, I guess..." Adri rolled over and sat upright. Their eyes were puffy and red, and their cheeks and nose were shiny with tears and mucus. "After Gale introduced me during the meeting thing, everyone was just so... nice. It was a lot. I didn't know how to deal with that, so I've just been holing up in here all week and feeling sorry for myself... I'm sure they all must think I'm an asshole."

"You're not an arsehole; you're going through a lot," said Arlo. "More than anyone in town could possibly know or even imagine. Yes, Gale is a bit of a worrywort, that's just how he is, but I doubt he's expecting you to seamlessly integrate into society overnight."

"Maybe... but he sure seems to believe that I can just pick up a hammer and magically become a Builder..."

Ah, yes. That. Gale had suggested, in the interest of keeping their origins a secret, that Adri be introduced to the townsfolk as a new Builder to avoid any unnecessary panic or conflict. If word of the truth got out, it could spell all sorts of trouble, not just for Adri, but for Portia, perhaps even for all of the Free Cities. 

"I understand that it's probably a lot to ask of you, especially when you're already dealing with so much," Arlo said. "But, unfortunately, it's a necessary evil, to keep you safe. At least for now."

Adri sighed, running a hand through their long curls. "I know, I know... I'm just having a hard time understanding why you're going through the trouble of doing all of... this in the first place." They gestured vaguely around at the house. "What do you get out of protecting me?"

Arlo blinked, looking visibly confused. "What... do you mean...?"

Adri gave him an incredulous look. "Seriously...? C'mon, man. There are obviously people out there who'd stand to benefit a great deal by me being here, whether, like, academically or monetarily or whatever. ...So what's stopping you from just handing me over to some science lab? Or the government? Why even concern yourselves at all with what happens to me? What am I to you?"

They folded their arms over their knees and looked sullenly out the cracked pane of the window. The cynicism in their voice had left Arlo stunned. He stared, his expression wavering between shock and disbelief before it finally settled on pity.

"You're someone who deserves to live," he said, his voice saddened. "Even if you... believe otherwise." 

Adri sighed again, heavily, their gaze still fixed out the window. Silhouetted by the light outside, their face appeared even more tired and weary than before.

"I'm just some random idiot you found in the ice," they mumbled into their knees, hugging them tighter. "You can tell Gale I'll play along with the Builder shit eventually. Right now, I... just want to be left alone."

Arlo nodded; he knew a hint when he heard one. "Okay," he said, patiently, standing up from the bed, and he turned to leave. Boots thudded across the creaky floor, stopping just before Arlo reached the doorway. He looked over his shoulder.

"Would you... be all right with me coming back tomorrow? To check in on you?" he asked cautiously. "If you'd rather I not, then I understand."

Adri quietly considered this for a moment.

"Yeah... okay."

The Captain gave a confirmatory nod. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," he said, gripping the door's handle. After a beat, he added, "and, uh, I'll make sure not to let the blue-haired bozo tag along this time."

At this, the faintest of smirks flashed across Adri's face as they let out an amused chuff, the closest thing to a genuine laugh Arlo had yet heard from them--and he was more than happy with that. He smiled, said goodbye, and left.

He went to sleep that night feeling... strangely optimistic.

#my time at portia #mtap #mtap arlo #mtap merlin #arlo x builder #nb!Builder #builder!self #arlo x adri #arlo x nb!Builder #arlo x builder!self #self ship #some angst #fluff on the bottom #selfshipping #fictional other #italics abuse #ellipses abuse #cw swearing #cw misgendering

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 2.5/5

Book Blurb: During the Great War, a combat nurse searches for her brother, believed dead in the trenches despite eerie signs that suggest otherwise, in this hauntingly beautiful historical novel with a speculative twist, from the New York Times bestselling author of The Bear and the Nightingale. “A wonderful clash of fire and ice—a book you won’t want to let go of.”—Diana Gabaldon, author of Outlander

January 1918. Laura Iven was a revered field nurse until she was wounded and discharged from the medical corps, leaving behind a brother still fighting in Flanders. Now home in Halifax, Canada, Laura receives word of Freddie’s death in combat, along with his personal effects—but something doesn’t make sense. Determined to uncover the truth, Laura returns to Belgium as a volunteer at a private hospital, where she soon hears whispers about haunted trenches and a strange hotelier whose wine gives soldiers the gift of oblivion. Could Freddie have escaped the battlefield, only to fall prey to something—or someone—else?

November 1917. Freddie Iven awakens after an explosion to find himself trapped in an overturned pillbox with a wounded enemy soldier, a German by the name of Hans Winter. Against all odds, the two form an alliance and succeed in clawing their way out. Unable to bear the thought of returning to the killing fields, especially on opposite sides, they take refuge with a mysterious man who seems to have the power to make the hellscape of the trenches disappear.

As shells rain down on Flanders and ghosts move among those yet living, Laura’s and Freddie’s deepest traumas are reawakened. Now they must decide whether their world is worth salvaging—or better left behind entirely.

Review:

A combat nurse searches for her brother during the Great War while a darker strange force intercepts him. The story is set during the Great War and follows Laura Iven and her brother Freddie Iven. Laura is a combat nurse who was discharged from the corp while her brother was still fighting in the front. She's living in Halifax, Canada but receives word of her brother's death along with a few of his things yet something doesn't ring true to her. Laura is determined to find her brother and what actually happened to him, and that begins with her journeying to Belgium as a volunteer at a private hospital. While there she begins to hear a strange rumor about a strange hotelier who's wine gives soldiers the gift of oblivion and Laura just knows he is connected to her brother somehow. While Laura's story takes place in 1918, we also follow Freddie's story set in 1917, where we get to see what has happened to him. Freddie wakes up after an explosion to find himself trapped in an overturned pillbox with a wounded enemy soldier, a German man named Hans Winter. Freddie and Winter work together and form an alliance as they find a way to escape. Yet their escape is short lived as they soon find refuge with a strange man who has the power to make the hellscape of the trenches disappear... Can Laura find Freddie before it's too late? This is a beautifully written story that really captures the PTSD and trauma of war. Despite that, this one definitely was not for me. I was expecting something a bit more, yet this was really slow and honestly, not for me because I found myself getting bored over and over. I adored Arden's previous books but this one just did not work for me personally at all. I think if you enjoy war time stories this would be for you, as someone who does not, and was expecting a bit more paranormal/magical elements in the story this one was definitely less magic and more historical. The story focuses on trauma and sibling relationships and the historical war time, and if you enjoy quiet slow burn stories then give it a go, I feel like it would work for you. I just didn't find myself all that invested in the story and the characters felt flat to me. About the 30% mark had me just not caring all that much about what was happening and finishing the book felt a bit like a slog. I will continue to read Arden's books though because the author has a really beautiful way of writing and I look forward to what she comes up with next.

*Thanks Netgalley and Random House Publishing Group - Ballantine, Del Rey for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

#book review #bookish #book #the warm hands of ghosts

[mermaidsirennikita]

November 2022 Book Recommendations

This month, I finished IAD in the beginning (and started with a book that I personally think is a true, game-changing romance classic) and started Christmas books in the end. I also read a great villain anthology (I... love villain heroes) and got into some truly exciting ARCs, going into 2023. And I read my first full length Ruby Dixon! I did work and I loved it.

Lothaire by Kresley Cole. Lothaire, the Enemy of Old, is on the brink of having the revenge he's sought for thousands of years. All he needs to do is claim his Bride, and he'll have his thrones. The only problem? His Bride, demonic former goddess Saroya the Soul Eater, has possessed the body of backwoods country girl Ellie Peirce; and Ellie is too strong-willed to simply let Saroya use her body for mayhem. Ellie is new to the world of the Lore, and she should be afraid of Lothaire... but she has a strong will to live, and she senses a desire within him that Saroya isn't satisfying. With Lothaire seeking a way to cast Ellie's soul from her body and Ellie seeking to seduce her freedom from him, the two begin a game that neither is fully prepared to win.

Obviously, this is a truly classic romance by now, and perhaps the? Definitive? Villain romance? Lothaire is evil, and the point of this book is not whether or not he can be good. He never will be, not 100%. The point is whether or not you'll buy his romance with Ellie, and uh--reader, I bought it. He hates that she's "low", mortal and poor. And she's not impressed with his cruelty and erratic behavior. They're both master manipulators, and he doesn't see her coming at all. It's kind of the perfect, inspired match between two incredibly opposite and similar characters. I cannot imagine the pressure Kresley felt to nail this after building Lothaire up as a definitive villain of her series... but fuck, it paid off. It's hot and twisted and incredibly compelling and... achingly romantic, somehow. The vows! The orgasms! The bloodplay! The betrayals! These two sick puppies just might make it.

Shadow's Claim by Kresley Cole. Bettina, future queen of the death demons, is being offered up as a prize in a tournament--whoever wins gets not only her hand in marriage, but the kingdom. The issue? Bettina has been carrying a torch for her best friend, Caspion, for years--and Cas seems reluctant to take their relationship to the next level. More complicated? Trehan Daciano, the vampiric master assassin sent to kill Cas for a transgression discovers that Bettina is his fated Bride--sending both men into the tournament, where either one could die. While initially desperate for Cas to win, the more Bettina gets to know Trehan, the more she's torn about what she wants for her future, and how devastated she would be if either man died.

This one seems to have a controversial reputation in the IAD fandom because of... Bettina, basically. And she is a different heroine for Kresley, for sure. She's a Princess Classic, essentially, except for the fact that she likes to make weapons for fun. And she does really hold back on Trehan because she wants to have this epic romance with Cas so badly, even though it's clear that their love is totally platonic. Was she a bit problematic? I guess, but I liked her because of it. And Trehan is HOT. A cold assassin who can kill anyone, is desperately holding himself back from ravishing the heroine, and offers a bag of decapitated heads as a present? Sign me the fuck up. Also, Lothaire is here, being an absolute nutjob. We love to see it.

MacRieve by Kresley Cole. Uilleam MacRieve is unable to control his inner beast and unable to have even vaguely normal intimate, or hell, sexual relationships due to the trauma of his past, a childhood tragedy that decimated his family. But just as he's on the verge of suicide, he finds his mate, Chloe Webb--the daughter of the man who tortured MacRieve and reawakened his dormant demons. That, they can get past--Chloe and MacRieve's connection is immediate, and it seems that he can bring himself out of the darkness for her. Yet at the worst possible moment, Chloe's own true (unknown to her) nature as a succubus--the same creature that victimized MacRieve as a child--is revealed, throwing their relationship into chaos.

This one was ROUGH to read, in the best possible way. It's beautifully done, it's just, for me, the most intensely sad IAD book. Basically, massive content warnings for childhood sexual abuse all over the place. MacRieve was groomed and raped by a succubus from the ages of 9 to 13, and the discovery led to the deaths of both of his parents and his unborn sister--and of course, he blames himself. He can only perform through his beast because his human side literally can't handle that kind of intimacy, and the revelation of Chloe's species throws him into chaos--and he treats her horribly as a result. You always get why he acts the way he does, but it's never justified. However, the slow healing for both of them, the way they make it through to each other, really worked for me and was just gorgeously emotional. And did lead to one of the funniest scenes in the series, to be frank. Also, the entire concept of succubus culture and dick flu was just... too.... good............ The matchup of a succubus, who by nature needs semen to like... live, and a werewolf, who by nature must give his mate what she needs to live and provide for her at all times... Kresley Cole's brain, man.

The Long Game by Rachel Reid. The direct sequel to Heated Rivalry. This one picks up with Shane and Ilya in a serious, committed relationship, if one that they must keep secret. Ilya left his successful team for a much shittier one to be closer to Shane--and he's feeling the professional effects, while still not actually being able to live with Shane full time. Though Ilya wants to be open about their relationship, Shane remains hesitant--putting a strain on their connection, and threatening their future.

This one was so good! Such a satisfying followup and (I assume) conclusion for one of my favorite romance couples of all time. Ilya's mental health, his isolation as an immigrant, and his trauma over his mother's suicide (and attempts to cover up all of the above through charm and natural wit) is examined at length in this one, and I loved seeing that picked apart. I also loved seeing a relationship wherein two people love each other deeply but still have to do active work to be better partners for each other. It isn't magically there. We also see Ilya getting brought into the fold of Shane's family, the two of them really creating this identity together... It was so natural and great, and the sex remained VERY HOT. (Trophy room sex... please.) The one complaint I'd have is that I think the book could've explored Shane's internalized homophobia a bit more, and the effect this would have on the ending of the novel. That was a big theme in Heated Rivalry, so I can see why Rachel Reid pulled up on it a bit here, but it did feel a bit too easy.

Dark Skye by Kresley Cole. Melanthe the sorceress finds a childhood best friend in vrekener Thronos, who recognizes her as his mate. But after a betrayal that leaves Lanthe on the run and Thronos with permanent injuries, she's terrified and he's enraged. He's spent five centuries tracking her since then--and once he has her, he doesn't plan to ever let her go.

I am open about my love of "childhood friends who fell out and now there's beef but they also love each other". This is that. This is also a deeply.... wild... book. Thronos is basically a demon-angel-thing, and he's very religious, and he comes from a deeply conservative culture, and he wants revenge on Lanthe, and he wants to fuck the shit out of Lanthe. All of these things are true. Lanthe is a pleasure-seeking sorceress who's never ashamed of her sexuality, and never apologizes to Thronos for fucking other people before him; and he does slut shame her a bit for it at first. A lot of the book really is about Thronous having to accept himself for what he actually is, both internally and externally, and what he wants (kinky sex with Lanthe). It's definitely different from many other IAD books, but you know what? I had fun with it. I liked Thronos and Lanthe's weird sex through a sheet thing. I thought it was funny.

Sweet Ruin by Kresley Cole. The Morior have come to fuck up the lives of all the IAD monsters, and first up is Rune Darklight--Rune the Insatiable. A 7,000 year old dark fey assassin known for using sex to get information--but don't kiss him, ladies, because his bodily fluids are in fact poisonous--Rune is thrown off course by Josie, a vampire (or is she?) who seems immune to his venomous blood. In fact, she seems to like it a lot. And he likes her drinking his blood a lot. Rune is sure that Josie is more than she seems--and holding back secrets. But as the two partner up together to save Rune's brother from a murderous valkyrie, he quickly discovers that the real risk Josie poses is in her irresistible appeal to him.

This one was so good. The Morior arc is interesting to me, if not my favorite--but Rune and Josie have been my favorite part of it. Rune is, to put it kindly, a total moron. He's a dangerous assassin who's a master at sexual torture and specializes in edging... But fails to see that Josie LOVES his edging. And I love that about him. I am a sucker for a super powerful man who's bowled over by a random girl, and this book is that. Josie is a really different kind of heroine for this series--illiterate, grew up on the streets, doesn't really know fuck all about the Lore. But she is... wild, and she knows that Rune is the one for her pretty quickly. And it makes for a truly delightful reading experience. Josie blithely confident that Rune will realize he loves her, Rune being totally in love with Josie and completely in denial about it. I love it.

Shadow's Seduction by Kresley Cole. Cas the demon was humiliated by the outcome of the tournament for his friend Bettina's hand--and even before then, completely thrown off by an unexpected night with his new friend, the vampire prince Mirceo. So he does what anyone would do and goes to a separate dimension where time moves differently to become more of a badass. But when Cas returns, Mirceo quickly realizes--they're meant to be together. He just has to convince Cas.

This novella was the first queer IAD book, and I do think it shows some datedness in terms of its treatment of sexuality (Mirceo has fucked a million people, but because he's never bottomed Cas sees him as like... a virgin on some level). But I also really can't speak to the accuracy or inaccuracy there on a personal level, and I'll be honest, I loved Cas and Mirceo together. Cas comes from a conservative culture and struggles with internalized homophobia and recognizing his own bisexuality. Mirceo is a hedonist who seems incapable of actually committing, even if he really wants to convince Cas that he can. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I kind of wish it had been a full-length book.

Wicked Abyss by Kresley Cole. Centuries ago, the demon prince Abyssian was betrayed by his fated mate, a fey princess. Now she's been reincarnated, and sent to the hell plane where Abyssian now rules--and is becoming more monstrous-looking every day. Sian's initial plan is to keep Lila as his captive and punish her for the sins of her past life. But fate may have other plans...

A Beauty and the Beast retelling, straightup, and I wasn't mad at it. This one has everything--curses, past life transgressions, secrets, a heroine who thinks her way out of the problem, and Nix moving her chess pieces in the background, all the time. I won't say that I loved Sian quite as much as I loved Lila, but I did love that when he came the entire hell plane reacted. That was great.

A Wicked Game by Kate Bateman. Read my full review here!

Munro by Kresley Cole. Munro MacRieve has one chance to go back in time and save his fated mate, the human Kereny. Except Kereny is a total stranger to him, and the only way to truly save her is to transform her into an immortal. Problematic, both because the transformation is extremely hazardous and Kereny turns out to be a monster hunter.

The first IAD book published in 5 years (and the most recently released, which means I'm out of books for now) this one is just. Really fun. Does it go as hard as some of my favorites? No. Is the last 20% INCREDIBLY FAST? Yes. But I just had a good time. Munro is such a fucking werewolf dude, even if he tries to be The Rational One between himself and MacRieve. Ren is a fun, defiant, snarky heroine, and I really enjoyed the path her transformation ultimately took. This one is just a fucking romp, and isn't connected a ton to the major arc, which I think was nice--but the ending! The cliffhanger! I fucking knew that fucker was alive but to have him come back like... almost twenty books after his death was mentioned... SOMEBODY GET MY BOY HEATH!!!!! NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Never Cross A Highlander by Lisa Rayne. Read my full review here!

The Countess by Sophie Jordan. ARC; review to come closer to publication.

Villain I'd Like to F... An anthology collection of novellas by Eva Leigh, Nicola Davidson, Adrian Herrera, Joanna Shupe, and Sierra Simone. The assignment? Historical romances about VILLAINS. Fucking delightful, varied, and super sexy. Let's break 'em down below (in brackets).

[Lady Viper and The Bastard by Eva Leigh. A romantic take on Dangerous Liaisons sees Lady Violet "Viper" Hampton and Ian "the Bastard" Molyneaux, two of the most feared figures in 1700s high society England, reluctantly team up despite their distrust of each other. Their mission? To break up a young couple in love by seducing each party separately. I fucking LOVED this. It's my favorite thing Eva Leigh has ever written. We see two fearsome, snarky, kinda horrible people, both in their forties and well aware of the world's caprice, engage in deceit and seduction while actually... falling in love with each other. Violet is a dream of a heroine, sharp-tongued and confident and determined to not catch feelings... While--let's be real--for all that Ian is a slutty, slutty man with a wicked sense of amorality (he is partially into this seduction game because he fucked the girl's mom and wants to fuck the daughter in turn because that would be funny), he's actually smitten by Violet from pretty early on. The feelings are intense and the sex scenes are FABULOUS. There is in fact a scene where they role play as a virginal Violet and her dancing master, and while that shit isn't gonna be for the more... cautious readers, it was certainly for me. I would kill for Eva Leigh to write more about these types of sardonic, gleefully wicked characters. She does it so well.

Seven Sinful Nights by Nicola Davidson. Twenty-year-old widowed duchess Estelle is set to be a servant for her in-laws when local club owner Blake Evans comes to call for the massive debt the new duke owes. Estelle's brother-in-law offers her as Blake's mistress in exchange for the debt being cancelled, but Blake gives her the choice--seven nights as his mistress, and the debt will be cancelled and Estelle will be given her widow's portion. Estelle agrees--in part because she wants the independence that comes with her inheritance and ruination, and in part because she's just too intrigued by Blake to pass up the opportunity. For seven nights only, she'll be his Stella, and his to do with as he pleases. This one was great, also my favorite thing I've read of Nicola Davidson thus far. It has everything--supportive friends with a dash of torture (something Stella has a fabulous reaction to), a lot of good girl-ing, domination, exhibitionism, and sex toys. Frankly, the whole "mistress of a villain" gig thing seems pretty sweet. There's also an age gap (Blake is 35 to Stella's 20) and the sex is ridiculously hot. I was a little ambivalent about one occurrence in the epilogue, but it really wasn't enough to truly taint the story for me. It was just fun and good and had a great climax (technically... several).

The Gangster's Prize by Joanna Shupe. When Isabelle's upstanding politician father goes missing, she's certain the culprit is Billy Baxter, leader of the Hell's Kitchen Gang. But when the demure Isabelle surprises Billy with a confrontation, he claims innocence--and promises to help her find her father... for a price. This one felt a bit different for Joanna Shupe at first, largely in that it's first person, alternating between Billy and Isabelle's perspectives. It took some getting used to, but ultimately the story had the hallmarks of what I love about Joanna Shupe: a dominant hero, a woman who throws him for a loop, and hot hot conflict. Also great fucking. That too. There is one particular moment in this novella that had even me raising my eyebrows, which is hard to pull off. And just when I thought she'd pull a punch--nope. Billy is pretty bad (and so good).

The Bootlegger's Bounty by Adriana Herrera. Rosalia dreams of singing in a New York nightclub--but the only way to get that is to ally with Camden McCullough, a notorious rum runner. The dangerous Cam is overwhelming enough--but throw in crew member Enzo, and Rosalia is very quickly in over her head. Or is she? This one is for the mmf lovers out there, especially if you're looking for a historical novella with a different setting (1920! High seas!). Cam, Rosalia, and Enzo have chemistry to spare. This one does tend towards the eroticism a bit more than the plot, but that's not a bad thing at all. The bond between Cam, Enzo, and Rosalia seems natural and fun and compelling--and yes, everyone does fall in love with everyone here.

The Conquering of Tate the Pious by Sierra Simone. Tate is the youngest abbess of Far Hope Abbey--ever. And she's set to protect the abbey with her life, offering herself up to the marauding Norman invader The Wolf. But The Wolf is not what they seem--in fact, they're a stunning woman, Adelais, who decides she could forego pillaging the abbey... if Tate offers herself up in exchange. You can't really go wrong with a sapphic medieval villainess romance. Adelais and Tate are both pretty hardcore in their own ways, and if you aren't familiar with Sierra Simone's work, this one might go in directions that surprise you. It's certainly hot--there is one particular scene with the hilt of a knife that's.... perfection--but I also enjoyed the contrast of Tate and Adelais and their respective strengths and forms of power. Fabulous.]

The Wrong Marquess by Vivienne Lorret. Elodie Parrish has always been set to marry her best friend George--not by any official agreement, but by an understanding that began when they were children and Ellie fell head over heels for him. But she's twenty-five now, and George is dragging his feet. So while she initially dislikes Brandon, the older brother of her new friend, the upside of their charged encounters could be that George might take the hint and make it official... But Brandon, if initially puzzled and annoyed by the confusing Ellie, might just want to keep her.

This one was really, really lovely. Just the right amount of humor, just the right amount of drama, with plenty of sexual tension (that does indeed get satisfied). It's also a pretty searing indictment of many unsatisfactory friends to lovers plots, even if it doesn't intend to be. George is a prick. Ellie is darling, a ball of anxiety (her fear of death was quite relatable) and desperation for love. Brandon is... fucking hot, and also just like. Desperate to get into her panties, in a way that was quite charming (there is a scene where she leaves a bowl of ice cream unfinished and he grabs it and finishes it because he wants to taste what she was tasting... man fucking down...). Brandon's initial prickliness and distrust of Ellie (he has a tragic past, obviously) giving way to besotted obsession was charming as fuck, and the contrast of his adoration against George's dogged determination to lead her on was just classic romcom excellence. And the ending--as well as the introduction of a certain future hero--did make me want to go and re-read How to Steal A Scoundrel's Heart, which is itself a fabulous read that follows this one in the Mating Habits of Scoundrels series. Just... so good.

Of Visions and Secrets by Kathryn Ann Kingsley. Emma Mather's brother has gone missing, and the only person who seems to have any clue as to what happened is his former professor, Raphael Saltonstall. The issue? Rafe knows a lot about the dark, occult societies Elliot got himself tangled up in--the only problem? Rafe may be more connected to the darker side of them than Elliot realized, and Emma may not care about that nearly as much as she should.

This is an unusual turn for me in romance--the first book in a trilogy that is truly connected, versus featuring standalones with different couples and smaller connections. The Tenebris trilogy reads as one big story versus three separate books, to be honest, and I blazed through it. Kingsley is a self-professed villain lover, but these books are definitely a romance; you just have to wait until the end of the final book to get the promised HEA. And like... Rafe isn't especially heroic. But for all that the world and the magic and horror is incredibly compelling--think 1920s, but with cults and eldritch abominations--the centerpiece is still the romance. Or rather, romances as book two reveals. Rafe and Emma's connection is both entertaining--he's a stern murderous professor with the voices of legion monsters in his head, she's a reckless adventuress who hurtles into trouble and gets turned on by fear--and kind of tragic? Like, he just wants to love her and frankly fuck her the fuck up? But so do the monsters within him? When the dam breaks with this guy, it BREAKS. Frankly, I blame a conservative society. I think that if Rafe had been introduced to BDSM and allowed to explore his dom side, countless lives would've been saved.

Of Flesh and Bone by Kathryn Ann Kingsley. The direct continuation of the above book--but I will add a couple of things. The secondary romance of the series (which is really pretty prominent, hot sex and all) is introduced in this book, and it is great. A sexy nightclub singer/cult leader and the hot battle priest who falls in love with her! I will also add a TW because that nightclub singer is a trans woman, and this book, as well as the third, feature a subplot in which a bigoted villain attempts to essentially undo her (magically-powered) transition--it is not super graphic, it does not last long, it does fail, and he does suffer. The main characters all affirm her and she does have a HEA with her hero, but just a heads up. Other notes: Rafe's shadow tentacles (or, as I have seen them called, his Consentacles) join the party in full in this one, and honestly? The fact that SHADOW AND BONE had the potential for shadow tentacles that can fill every orifice while also allowing the tentacle-user to utilize his fingers and dick... and did not do that.... A wasted opportunity. All hail the shadow tentacles.

Of Grave and Glory by Kathryn Ann Kingsley. The conclusion of the Tenebris trilogy--angsty, wacky, gave me all the "NOT WITHOUT YOU" shit I could ever want. You know??? How it is??? When you monster boyfriend shows up to take you into his horrifying grasp and murder everyone standing in his way??? The only thing I could've used is one more sex scene, but the one we got was like... admittedly... three different kinds of sex at once, so. Fair. Rafe and those shadow tentacles, man.

Bound to the Battle God by Ruby Dixon. Faith is a simple girl working for an insurance company, when she follows the voices she hears from the empty apartment down the hall and ends up in another world. Her only way out seems to be pledging herself as the mortal Anchor to Aron, a god who's meant to learn a lesson. The God of Battle, Aron has been split into four different selves, or Aspects--Apathy, Hedonism, Deceit, and Arrogance. Faith has ended up with the Arrogance part, and boy does she know it. Her life is now tied to his; the only way to kill Aron is to kill her. The problem? Only one Aspect can live and be restored to full godliness, and the other three are out to kill Faith in order to eliminate "her" Aron. And as Aron and Faith travel to destroy his other Aspects, she finds herself not only caring about saving her own life, but keeping the rather annoying, if completely hot, god alive.

This was my first Ruby Dixon, and I was. Sold. Listen, Ruby's style is very chatty and real and it's going to be for you or it isn't--it totally worked for me (though, I'm not sure when this book was written, but some slang used was... less than ideal). The world building in this book is actually kind of insane, too. I loved the mythology of the Aspects and Anchors, Aron's backstory, the worship--it all rang true. There is definitely some leaning into the "fetching slave girl" stuff in this one... less so with Faith, and more with another character, though I wouldn't say that any sexual assault occurs as said character is a willing concubine who wishes to serve the gods. Very religious. But that aside, the romance in this is actually pretty fucking excellent. It's a long book, and while an Incident makes Faith and Aron's mutual attraction very clear, it takes both of them a while to come to terms with their feelings and really start up together. By the time the book ended, I was so invested in their relationship. And if I haven't sold this book enough, there is a scene where he gets so turned on by her eating a piece of fruit that he sits her down in a chair and starts going down on her while demanding that she continues to eat the fruit. It was a great choice.

Never Seduce a Duke by Vivienne Lorret. Review to come closer to the release date, but trust and believe that I love it.

How the Dukes Stole Christmas. An anthology with Christmas-themed (duh) stories by Tessa Dare, Sarah MacLean, Sophie Jordan, and Joanna Shupe. Comments on each in brackets!

[Meet Me in Mayfair by Tessa Dare. Louisa Ward is on the hunt for a wealthy husband in order to keep her family from being evicted by the new Duke of Thorndale. But--shock of shocks--the man she meets at the ball is actually Thorndale himself, and the two set out on an evening stroll that could be exactly what she and her family need... This one was very sweet. Very tame. I mean, I know it's Christmas, but... I liked it as a short story, for sure, but this one might not have been quite my speed.

The Duke of Christmas Present by Sarah MacLean. This one is a basically "what if Scrooge's fiancee who left him came back 12 years later, and both of them were super hot", and I was GOOD WITH IT. It's very charming and second chance, and there is sexual tension aplenty between Eben (yes), and Jacqueline, aka Jack. And yes, that tension does pay off, in a very Christmasy way. I had a great time with this, and it was both sweet and angsty in a way that MacLean masters.

Heiress Alone by Sophie Jordan. This Home Alone retelling sees a young woman end up left on her own over Christmas by her family--with a Scottish duke. And guess what? He's very gruff, and she plans on becoming a nun! This one was so much fun, with plenty of sexual tension and insane happenings. I think that Sophie has a great talent for creating a fast-paced book, and that was perfectly suited for a novella. It had a very snowed in vibe, and yes, there are horny cookies in this one. I love a horny cookie moment.

Christmas in Central Park by Joanna Shupe. This one was probably my favorite of the bunch--the heroine runs an advice column as a married domestic goddess, except she is not married or a domestic goddess. When the brusque newspaper-owning boss guy (who hasn't met her before) asks her to put on a big dinner for the board, she has to fake having a husband, a home, and staff in time for Christmas. But the whole fake husband thing might be a problem, because her boss wants to dick her down HARD.]

#romance novel blogging #book recs #books

[lunarxtique]

Location: The Temple Tag: @raging-ale

So he had heard the news. It wasn't like the death and resurrection of a demigod, let alone one of their most physically powerful, was not going to be glossed over.

He'd remembered that first night he met Alejandro. Sat all alone and seemingly not wanting to be bothered and yet Davon could not help but be drawn to him. He wouldn't outright admit it but perhaps it was the Son of Artemis own flavor of self-loathing and poor decisions that drew him towards the man who looked like he wanted to break the world before it could break him. What seemed to be a growing bond was cut short. Distance caused by distraction he supposed. Davon never was too much of the confrontational type...up until recently.

So when he saw the son of Ares, what normally would have been a happy hug and kiss was met with a somber glare as he stopped just before the other man. It was...complicated.

"I can forgive a lot of things." He said rather bluntly. There was no reason to sugar coat his feelings. Not anymore after a night from hell.

"I can forgive you shoving me off when I just wanted to spend a little time with you." Yes, he recalled wanting to get on that cursed teacup ride, but standing there looking foolish after the other demigod collected the ones he apparently preferred. Thank goodness he hand Winter to cheer him up.

"I can forgive you for breaking that ride and triggering what would lead into what could be described as nothing but mental torture." That Muse called it Disney Jail, but it really had just been mind rape and just reawakened a trigger from past trauma. Speaking of...

"I can forgive you for ignoring my panic and demand to escape a sketchy kid's concert that were were KIDNAPPED for to attend.... because you just cared about having a good time with the ones you keep pushing me away in favor for." And he clenched his jaw. He remembered being knocked unconscious from the ordeal though thankfully healed by Corey. Davon felt like none of it would have happened if they had just listened to him in the first place and all left when they had a small bit of chance.

"But what I absolutely WILL NOT tolerate is YOU deciding to be so reckless and leaving us to MOURN. Because I thought distancing myself would be the answer but the last few nights spat in my face and told me it's fucking impossible not to get attached." he scrubs a hand over his face and gives a low growl. There it was...that growing call of the wild he'd been feeling. He was a healer but....

A hand snaps out and claps across that handsome face of the other demigod. The same hand reaches to snatch the collar of Alejandro's shirt and pulled him in, nose to nose as he snarled. It was a stark contrast to the past nurturing interactions he had with Davon. But all nurturing apparently was not going to cut it anymore. Not when they had hitmen after them. Not when it had succeeded in taking one of them out and by a blessing, the man he had clenched by the shirt was given another chance.

"I may not mean shit to you, but there's no way I can lie and say I don't still want you in my life and to be okay. I..." he his nostrils flared and his grip on the shirt wavered. "I told Sethan I don't cry anymore...because it was pointless..." and yet, he found himself feeling tears streak down his cheeks for the son of Ares.

"What the fuck is even happening..."

#☾⋆⁺₊✧ 𝔡𝔞𝔳𝔬𝔫 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔲𝔫𝔞 ✩ interactions #alejandro 006

[derelictdumbass]

Thinking about how the Seeds relationships with Dean could be taken as an act of defiance against how they were raised and a way for them to break out of that restraint and accept the trauma they went through and move forward from it.

#nadine is typing... #Far Cry Tag #like specifically Joseph Jacob and John honestly #they all grew up in a religious home where no doubt being anything but cis and straight would be looked down upon #even though I strongly beleive Joseph grows up loving everyone and doesn't care or discriminate against those things #there's no doubt lingering religious trauma there surrounding it and he still might feel a small bit of shame at the beginning #but then him being able to accept his feelings would be a way for him to accept he's not the boy he was and he's allowed to change #and he'd come to see it like a reawakening for himself and that his love is a beautiful thing #With John it'd be like such a heavy weight lifts off of him I think #like he can drop the perfect golden boy act altogether and be himself. the version of him he was never allowed to truly be #and maybe through loving Dean he can finally start to love himself and break away from the titles other people gave him #And Jacob is probably the biggest impact bc this man got sent to the army and you know how that space is towards queer people #he probably has a lot of internalized homophobia to unpack and would be really angry and scared about his feelings #and his coming to terms with his feelings would be a lot messier and take a lot longer #it'd be a lot of giving in a little and withdrawing a lot. like two steps forward and three steps back kinda thing #but then being able to accept it gives him time to think about his entire world view and beleifs #it allows him time to realise he's not the man his father made him to be or the army made him to be. he can just be #idk I've felt really chatty today sorry lol #got a lot of words in my head need to get them out

[gumiwaka]

Chapter 1 - Encounter

Pairing: Imaushi Wakasa x f!reader

WC: 1.7k

Summary: Despite your very involved past with some of Tokyo’s well known gangs you managed to fade out of that picture and become the head Emergency Room Trauma Charge Nurse for one of Tokyo’s top trauma centers. One particular shift, fate decides to deliver your past right at your doorstep with a very reawakening encounter with none other than your high school sweetheart/ex boyfriend in a very critical state.

Tw/Cw: mentions of hospitals, blood, needles, physical injuries, gang violence, cussing, angsty past arguments/breakup, Wakasa having a personality break during a flashback

Notes: there will be NSFW chapters in the future so just a heads up also I just had to drag the suspense out a bit, just wait until you see the shit y/n used to partake back in the day

MINORS DNI

“How’s your day going?” Your dark bagged framed eyes peered over your now cold coffee at the new emergency room technician. His warm cheerful attitude stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison to the rest of the current ER environment. Working at one of Tokyo’s top trauma centers never failed to produce a short staffed yet heavy flow workplace.

“Well, no one died.” You replied while placing the cheap styrofoam cup down on your desk. Just as you began walking away from the nurse’s station, you couldn’t help but let a small amused smirk escape your lips at the rookie’s response.

“Those are your standards?”

Unfortunately, with your history of being a paramedic, now nurse, human deaths slowly became somewhat meaningless to you. It became routine to see people slip away from this world. Maybe all the endless hours of exhaustion from constant overtime has finally dulled your brain into a somewhat state of numbness.

Just as you were about to slip into a patient’s room, a booming voice called out over the ER intercom. “Trauma alert, bay 2, eta 5 minutes…. Level 1 activation…” You immediately turned on your heel then made your way to the bay to prepare for the shit show that was about to be dropped off at your doorstep.

As you stepped in, your fellow coworkers were already frantically pulling out IV kits, trauma dressings, intubation supplies, the whole nine yards. Everyone was ready to swiftly intervene, stabilize, then move onto the next emergency.

“Charge Nurse L/N, EMS reports that we have a 29 year old male in critical condition incoming, critical injuries secondary to gang altercation.” One of the other nurses report aloud as you slip on nitrile gloves.

An irritated sigh left your lips while you assisted one of the technicians preparing the cardiac monitor. “These idiots need to chill the fuck out, that makes incident number eleven in the last eight hours.”

Before anymore side chat could begin, the ambulance bay doors burst open followed by two medics pushing in a very battered and bloodied body. The gears instantly started turning in your head, assessing the mess you had before you. Two apparent stab wounds to the upper abdomen, a handful of superficial gashes along both arms, countless bruises, and one very deformed right clavicle.

“Put pressure on those stab wounds, get X-ray in here, and page the trauma surgeon now.” You ordered as the team moved the unconscious male to the gurney. Without hesitation, you immediately kneeled down and began working on getting venous access. As you brushed his long matted lilac and blonde strands away your eyes widened at the sight of a very familiar three balled dangle earring. Before you could continue to process this rediscovery anymore, the privacy curtains swung open followed by a very authoritative deep voice.

“You guys better not kill him!”

That demanding voice was all it took to pull those deep buried memories back up to the surface. Akashi Takeomi was not only now in your ER being the asshole he is, but trying to intimidate your staff which are elbows deep in stabilizing the man before you.

Your head whipped around just after you secured the IV you established and bore an ever dark glare into the famous “god of war’s” eyes.

“Don’t you know who I am?” He immediately caught your intense glare and snapped.

“Yup, I just don’t care. Now get the hell out of my ER bay.” The words lashed out, gaze never faltering.

He froze on the spot, like a deer in headlights when he realized just who you were and without another word of protest he backed out and slid the curtain shut.

“Dang Charge Nurse L/N you’re really scary when you want to be.” One of the technicians chuckled as you gently removed the jewelry from the patient’s ear and placed in your scrub pocket.

“All that guy is good for is talking up a big game, just ignore him. Once you start running fluids on our patient here, take him straight to Dr. Tsubomi’s OR.” The young male nodded in response to your orders and resumed taping down one of the many gauze dressings.

Seeing that the brunt of the chaos has been controlled, you slid your dirtied gloves into the trash and allowed one last glance back at the unconscious man before stepping out of the trauma bay.

Small squeaks echoed off of the walls as your crocs scuffed across the tiled floor. Now that he was stabilized for the most part, your mind began to suddenly process just who was laying before you moments ago. The line of spherical beads sitting on your bare chest beneath your scrub top suddenly began to feel as if it were burning painful blisters into your flesh.

After looking around to make sure no one was watching, your hand snaked behind your waist and pushed down on the supply room door knob allowing your body to tumble into the empty space alone. As the door clicked shut, there was no hesitation as you pushed in the lock.

Silence…

No call lights beeping, no cardiac monitors screaming, no crying voices…

Just pure silence…

With that, your hand reached down your top and yanked the beads clean from your neck allowing instant relief to come to your flushed skin.

Your body went limp and slid to the cold tile below while clutching the now broken necklace tight in your grasp followed by a small sniffle. The earring you had stashed in your pant pocket moments ago rolled out beside you.

“You just never will learn will you… Waka…”

A single tear trickled down your cheek as you picked up the earring and admired the smooth crimson finish. Then it hit you. When was the last time you actually cried and felt genuinely worried? It had to have been a few years at least… right?

Yeah… that’s right.. back when you both ended things for good that one night.

“If I knew… If someone had told me the plan… You know I would have done things differently right?” Warm hands cupped your tear stained face bringing your infuriated conscious back to reality.

“This is real life! You don’t get to restart things when you make a mistake like that Imaushi!” Venomous words shot out in fury while you shoved his arm away refusing any last ditch comfort from him.

“Do you not feel any remorse for what you did to them? To me?”

If you didn’t think it was anymore possible to be even more pissed off, him standing there with a crazed grin was all it took to push you past that point. You couldn’t even fathom being the slightest bit scared of his old twisted personality slipping out. Knowing if he picked up on the smallest bit of fear leaking from you, it would be game over, simple as that.

“Is this a game to you?”

He remained silent, features never faltering as his blood stained body sunk down into the plush chair behind, and you watched as he leaned down to cradle his head fighting back an amused cackle.

“I don’t have a choice— I never had.” Lifeless lilac irises flickered up to your bloodshot scowl. For a second you could have sworn that a small plea for help etched his expression, but was instantly concealed by his hands coming up to rub his exhausted eyes. That alone brought you back down on your rollercoaster of emotions for the night and once again, painful tears rimmed your eyes and began to fall down your flushed cheeks.

Silence filled your shared apartment as tears continued to quietly drip off your chin onto the laminate floor below.

“I still believe there is a good person in you.”

With those final words spoken, you walked out of the home you both built together and never looked back, leaving all the worry you had for the man you loved at the front door.

The loud ringing of your pager yanked you out of your running thoughts and caused you to shoot up straight to your feet. Looking down, you read the incoming message rolling across the screen.

‘Trauma bay 2 out of surgery, stable, in recovery room 456’

A wave of relief coursed through your veins after reading the news. Wiping your face with one of your sleeves, you pocketed the reunited pair of charms and made your way out of the supply room and towards the room where Wakasa was now resting peacefully.

Thankfully he can’t have visitors just yet since he’s still coming off of anesthesia so it wouldn’t hurt to check in on him right?

Just a quick in and out before he wakes up will be enough.

Hesitantly you stood in front of the door dividing you both. This wasn’t like you, being weary about entering a patient’s room. Letting out a sigh and relaxing your mind the best you could, quietly you slipped inside and shut the door.

There he was… sleeping soundly not aware of a single thing going on. Earlier when he came in, he was hardly recognizable. Now that he has been cleaned and fixed up for the most part, it was hard to not just admire the man. Despite the deep purple bruises covering an array of his gentle face, he was still absolutely breathtaking.

Mesmerized by his beauty, you thoughtlessly reached for his face and gently brushed back his blonde locks. In reaction to your touch, long elegant eyelashes slowly fluttered open without you noticing. It took a familiar raspy voice calling out to pull you from your trance.

“Y/N…?”

Please do not repost my work, that’s stealing mmkay~

Until I get a proper tag list form posted feel free to send me an ask or comment here <3 remember you must be 18+ w/ your age in bio

Tag List: @kallikrein

#arosora fics #Imaushi wakasa #Wakasa #Imaushi wakasa x reader #wakasa x reader #tokyorevengersfics #Tokyo Revengers #Brahman

[redhoodssweetheart]

Blackbird | Three

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader slowly turning into a Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2K

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing, angst, some fluff, talk of having a dark soul and not being a good person, death mention, shot with a gun

Description: You were once a member of the BatFam known by the moniker Blackbird.   You and Dick Grayson were close, but when a tragic accident left many members of the team thinking you were dead you went into hiding and tried to build a new life for yourself. But now Dick is back and he’s about to find out your secret.

Dick was lying awake in his hotel room thinking about her when his phone buzzed.  He grabbed it off the bedside table and looked to see who had messaged him.  He was almost certain it was going to be Bruce telling him to get his ass back to Gotham, but instead he saw Kor’i’s name.

Kor’i: Damian said you were out of town on a mission.  Is everything okay?

He wasn’t sure how to tell Kor’i that he had found Y/N, his lifelong friend that had been murdered by the Joker right before his eyes.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her yet.  She was still deceased in the eyes of most of the League and he knew she still wanted to keep it that way.  He was half expecting her to up and vanish again, but before he had left her apartment the night before he had made her swear not to leave.

Dick: Something came up and I’ll be in Preston City for awhile.

Kor’i: Do you need back up?  I can be there in a few hours if you need me.

Kor’i was a good friend, Dick hated lying to her, but he didn’t need her coming here and scaring Y/N off.

Dick: I can handle things here.  Just stay with the Titans.

Kor’i: All right, just call if you need me.

He shut his phone off and went back to staring at the ceiling wondering what he should do now.  Y/N was adamant about staying in the shadows and operating as she had been since her death.  She didn’t feel like she was worthy enough to come back out into the light.  Whatever she had done after she had been reawakened from the Lazarus Pit had messed with her.

He was going to get to the bottom of this and try to help her work through whatever trauma she was still holding onto.  He got up and got ready for the day.  He wasn’t sure where she was going to be today, but he didn’t want her to be alone.

“What do you mean he just showed up out of the blue?” Jason was on the phone with Y/N as she punched away at one of the punching bags in her apartment.  “Did Bruce tell him?”

Y/N and Jason were in similar situations.  They had both been killed by the Joker and resurrected in the Lazarus Pit.  Jason, however, had returned to the fold in a sense rather than staying in the shadows as she had.  Though she had chosen to reach out to Jason after her sanity had come back because she needed someone to talk to that had been through the same thing she had.

“Bruce didn’t tell him where I was, Dick figured that out all on his own.  But once he discovered me, he managed to pry the truth out of Bruce.”  She threw another punch that managed to knock the punching bag off its hook and send it flying across the room.  “Fuck,” she cursed.

“Destroy another punching bag?”  Jason asked in a teasing tone.

“Shut up, Todd,” she hissed.  “You would think I would be better at controlling the super strength by now.”

Jason was quiet for a moment, “Maybe you should leave Preston for a while and come stay with me.  I can keep Dick off your scent for a bit and you can get used to the idea that he knows you’re still alive.”

“He said he loved me,” she whispered.

Jason sat up in his chair and nearly spit out his coffee, “He what?!”

Y/N felt like putting her fist through a wall, “He told me that he loved me and nothing could ever change his mind about that.  I told him that he was in love with a memory of me, but he doesn’t want to believe that.  He wants to think that he can love this newer, broken version of me.”

Jason knew that when Y/N had died she and Dick had grown closer and that there was more to their relationship than friendship.  Dick had never gotten the chance to tell her that he was in love with her before she died and then went into hiding.  Y/N had never really spoken of her relationship with Dick, just comments here and there.  The memories tended to be too painful for her.

“Do you still love him?”  Jason wasn’t sure if that would get a response, but he thought he should at least see what her response would be.

“You know what?  I’ll be at your place in a few hours,” she hit the end button on her phone and went to get in the shower.  

The warm spray of water against her skin helped relieve some of the tension in her muscles as she went through the habitual routine.  It was familiar and comforting when her mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts.  She needed to get away from Preston and Dick for a while and just clear her head.  Staying with Jason wasn’t the best idea, but he was all she had right now.

She would suck it up for at least a week and see if that helped.

She dressed and packed a bag with the essentials.  She jotted down a note to Dick because he would undoubtedly be by to check on her and when he discovered she wasn’t there he would break in to find clues.  Then headed to the train station downtown to catch the first train to Gotham.

When the train began to move she put her earphones in and listened to music that helped soothe her restless soul and watched as the city passed her by.  Dick was out there somewhere looking for her, hoping that he could bring her back.

But she was a lost cause and she hoped that he could see that.

Dick knocked on Y/N’s door an hour after she had gotten on the train.  He hadn’t wanted to go over to her apartment too early, but he couldn’t wait any longer.  He wanted to continue their conversation from the night before and hopefully talk about other things as well.  He didn’t want to focus on all the bad that had happened since they had last seen one another, he wanted to know about the good as well.

There was no answer the second time he knocked and dread settled in the pit of his stomach.  Why wasn’t she answering the door?

He pulled out his lock picking set and managed to get the door open.  The apartment was quiet as he pushed the door shut behind him.  “Y/N?”  There was no response as he moved deeper into the apartment.  

He noticed the punching bag laying on the floor, sand spilling out of it, and then headed for her room.  Lying on her bed as a single sheet of paper.  He picked it up with trembling fingers and read the two words that made his heartbreak.

I’m sorry.

She had left and it was his fault.  He had pushed her to leave because he had scared her by discovering where she was.  He sat down on her bed just staring at the two words written on the sheet of paper.

Y/N stepped off the train and saw Jason waving at her from down the platform.  She smiled and ran toward him, throwing her arms around him.  Sometimes Jason was the only thing that managed to make her smile. “Hey Blackbird,” he whispered against her ear.

She shoved him, “Shut up, you know I don’t go by that anymore.”

“Yeah what is that pretentious name the media gave you?  Phantom?”  He slung his arm over her shoulders and began steering her toward his motorcycle.  “I’m pretty sure you could come up with something better.”

“Having a name implies that I’m a superhero, and I’m not.  I’m just a concerned citizen,” she shot back.  

Jason smirked at her, “Concerned citizen my ass, you just like the thrill of kicking the ass of men twice your size and laughing as the cops and media sit back scratching their heads about who the hell you are and if they should consider you a hero or a menace.”

“Oh, I’m definitely a menace,” she said with a nod to her head.  “There’s no room for heroes in my life.”

“You wound me,” Jason said with mock hurt.  “Am I not a hero?”

“More like a major pain in my ass,” she poked him in the ribs.  

Jason pouted and said, “If I had known you were going to be so mean to me then I never would have agreed to let you stay with me while you get your shit together.”

“You’re a dick, you know that Todd?”  She said as she placed her bag on the back of his motorcycle and grabbed the helmet from his hands.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” he said as he climbed onto his bike and waited for her to join him.  When she had her arms wrapped securely around him he took off, zooming through the streets and heading to his small apartment in the east end.  They managed to make it without any accidents and Jason led her up to his apartment.  “Home sweet home,” he pushed open the door revealing his place.

It was surprisingly cleaner than she thought it would be.

“Aw Jay, did you clean for me?”  She sauntered into the home and tossed her bag on the couch.  “Because I’m pretty sure Alfred was always getting on you for having a messy room when we were teenagers.”

Y/N wasn’t an official adoptee of Bruce Wayne.  She had been friends with Barbara and then the others when she learned their secret.  She had a room at Wayne Manor for those nights when she couldn’t go home because of the night time activities.  It worked out okay, her parents were never really home to begin with and they never paid much attention to what she did as long as she wasn’t arrested.

A blessing and a curse.

“Hey, a man can change his ways,” he grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and tossed it to her.  “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” she shrugged.  Her phone lit up and she saw that it was Bruce calling.  She held her fingers to her lips and answered, “Hey Bruce.”

“Where are you?”  He asked.

She sighed, Dick must have called him.  “If I tell you then will you promise not to tell Dick?”

“Where are you?”  He repeated his question.

She felt a little bit of anger bubble up inside her, “You don’t get to demand things from me anymore Bruce.  I’m not one of your kids and I’ve been doing fine on my own for a while now.  I’m safe and okay, I’m not gonna go on a murder spree if that’s what you’re worried about.  I just need some time.”  She hung up the phone and turned it off.  “God, I forgot how annoying he can be.”

Jason came over and wrapped his arms around her, “Just stay calm.  Everything will be okay.  You’ll stay here for a bit, relax, get your head on straight, and then head back to Preston to be your badass self again.”

“Maybe I won’t go back to Preston,” she said as she looked up at him.  “Maybe I’ll go to France or Germany.  Somewhere else that isn’t here.”

“Well if you go overseas then how am I ever going to see you?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way.”  She patted his chest and pulled away from him, “Now what about pancakes?  There’s that place downtown that I loved as a kid that makes those birthday cake pancakes.”  She hummed, “I would kill for some of those right now.”

“And here I thought you weren’t gonna go on a murder spree after promising Bruce you wouldn’t,” Jason headed for the door.

“Hey, no one gets between me and my pancakes,” she said as he opened his door.

He was smiling as he shook his head, “I’ll be back.  Just don’t trash the place while I’m out.”

“No promises,” she said in a singsong voice as the door closed behind him.

#Dick Grayson x Reader #Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader #Dick Grayson x Reader angst #Jason Todd x Reader #Jason Todd x Fem!Reader #Jason Todd x Reader angst #Dick Grayson #Dick Grayson fanfic #Dick Grayson fanfiction #Dick Grayson angst #Jason Todd #Jason Todd fanfic #Jason Todd fanfiction #Jason Todd angst

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf

Ok, so I’ve tried and tried several times to get this posted, we’ll see if this is the time it goes through. Half the reason why this review series has slowed down is not just the multitude of real life stuff I have to deal with, but also Tumblr just refusing to work with me and deleting my posts. I also can’t save my work else where due to Tumblr messing up the formatting. It’s been a frustrating mess and so far no one @staff​ has come up with a tech solution or work around. 

Summary: Rapunzel helps to rebuild Old Corona, (after its near destruction from the Black Rocks) which will become the permanent home of Red and Angry, who have returned to Corona to settle down. However, she begins to notice strange footprints around the area, as well as the livestock becoming more unruly and fearful. The group comes across a monster hunter named Creighton, who explains to the group that the area is being stalked by a werewolf, who possessed one of Corona's citizens. Aiming to save this person rather than kill them, Rapunzel sets out to find who it is. 

When Was This Decided?

No seriously, when was this decided? It’s a pretty big leap go from ‘the rocks makes various towns inhabitable’ to ‘let’s rebuild!’ What’s changed here? Cause the rocks haven’t been removed and Rapunzel failed in her mission to nullify their power. In fact the rocks were not only reawaken in the second season finale but shown to be under the power of someone who’s intentions were made unclear to the heroes.

So I ask again; who thought this was safe thing to do now? What provisions have been made to accommodate the rocks? They blocked the well, remember, and destroyed the fields; how are the people getting food and water? 

And most importantly why wasn’t the audience informed beforehand? When you change up the status quo in a story you need to provide just cause to the viewers. I legit thought I had accidently skipped an episode when I first watched because this plot point was not set up properly.  

Why Were They Ever Left Alone to Begin With?

In a story where neglect is a central theme and motivating factor for all the main characters, it is super tone deaf to have those same characters perpetuating neglect themselves. The decision to live on their own should not be left up to Angry and Red because they are children. Children are not mature enough to provide for themselves neither emotionally nor physically and when placed in situations where they have to do so it psychologically damages them. Which the series already showcased with Varian so why is this suddenly deemed ok? 

This Completely Undermines the Past Two Seasons

The entire conflict of the past two seasons was the rocks forcing people out of their homes. Eugene was made an orphan from them, Varian lost his entire support group because them, they drove out the Saporians from their encampment which prompted them to invade Corona, and Rapunzel and company spent an entire year on the road trying to find a way to stop them from spreading supposedly. 

All of that has now been flushed down the drain with this decision. And its super insulting to watch because it’s the writers telling us that we’ve wasted our time caring about this plot for two years. You don’t resolve major conflicts off screen and without explanation; it’s lazy!  

Also Where Is Varian and Quirin During All This?

This is not only their home and legal charge, but it’s also the ending to their ongoing story, and they’re not even here in a silent cameo. 

Wouldn’t Quirin be overseeing the rebuilding of his town? Wouldn’t Varian be using his skills to find workable engineering solutions for them, fulling his season one goal of saving his home and making his village better with his inventions? Also wouldn’t Edmund want to catch up with his brother and help out now that he’s here? 

In fact not a single person who actually lives in Old Corona is to be found in these opening shots. 

Oh, But We Do Get Earl

Earl might be from Old Corona, or he might not be. We’ve literally never seen him before. The artists had to create a brand new character model for this character, the writers had to write new lines for him, and the casting director had to hire an actor and have him record these lines for only less than a minute of screen time, never to be seen again. Even though they legit had shepherd models already to go from season one that they could have used. It’s a waste of resources and a prime example of the mismanagement going on in this show. 

It’s Too Late In the Series to Waste Time On a New One Off Villain

Speaking of a waste, Creighton might have more story reasons to appear in this episode than Earl does but her inclusion is still a poor decision. The show already has an overabundance of villains, so many in fact that they shipped the bulk of them off in season two, and this is the final season; the season where we should be wrapping up plots and minor characters stories not kicking off new ones.

Taken on her own Creighton isn’t a bad character presa, she works for the episode, but when we could have gotten a resolution to Caine’s, Hector’s, or the Disciples’ story arcs instead it highlights how misused the series assets are. 

All This Lore Will Be Forgotten In Just a Few Episodes Time

We finally get like some magical rules and backstory only for future episodes to ignore it from here on afterwards. Red can turn into a werewolf whenever she pleases, night or day, with little explanation as for why.  

Just Arrest Her Rapunzel

You’re the acting queen. You have the power and the right to arrest or even merely detain someone who is threating your citizens and refuses to leave. In fact it’s kind of your job. You don't even have to throw her in a dungeon if you thought that too cruel. Just lock her up in a nice room somewhere in the castle until you’ve sorted out the mess yourself. 

The series wants to treat Rapunzel as the underdog when she isn’t, and her failure to wield her power effectively doesn’t make her look ‘nice’ it just makes her look stupid and grossly incompetent. This is a conflict that didn’t need to have happened and Rapunzel let it happen.  

Oh, So Now Y'all Riot

You didn’t complain when the king orphaned children with his crack down on crime. You rolled over as he dolled out overly harsh punishments to poor people who committed minor offences. You gleefully went along with the royals as they  scapegoated a child for their mistakes, even as they endangered your homes.  And ya’ll sat on your asses while invaders pulled off a coup and enslaved you. 

But this is what you get mad over? A rumor about a mythical creature existing that your princess has zero control over. Seriously? 

Man, I hate the townspeople in this show. 

Pointless Dream Sequence Is Pointless

This scene tells the audience nothing new and just wastes screen time. 

This Is the Wrong Lesson to Focus On Rapunzel

We do not tell the 12 year old to unload their phycological issues onto their baby sister!

You’re telling me parents were involved in writing this show? What the hell!?

Rapunzel you are the adult here. At 20 now you should be more adept to handle listening to the deep seated emotional traumas of a little girl than a fucking 10 year old! And if you’re not, or don’t want to, then it’s your job to find another adult who will. 

That’s the core problem with this entire episode. It treats Red’s and Angry’s problems as some eternal issue that they need to work out and not as the inherent failure of the adults around them that it is. 

It is neither Red’s nor Angry’s decision on weather or not they get live on their own. Nor is it their responsibility to be each other’s therapist. Yes, a change in living arrangements is always stressful and for children with abandonment issues it can be hard to readjust, but that’s when you need to step it up and deal with the problem; not shove it off onto the kids themselves! 

Monty Is Useless

Is this all Monty is good for? Being a red herring in ridiculously simple mysteries? Is this why we wasted a whole episode introducing him back in season one? Really?

Why Are We Still Treating Old Corona As Being Separate from Corona Itself?

Look, I get that it’s a joke, but it’s a joke that highlights how poorly thought out the worldbuilding is in the series. Is the Coronan government in charge of Old Corona or not? If so then you can just make those lease laws yourself as the acting regent Eugene. If not then Frederic shouldn’t have had any say in the matter of relocating Old Corona’s citizens nor putting a child outside of his jurisdiction under arrest.

But more importantly this is a just a repeat of that vague level of responsibility Rapunzel has for people who live off the island. She can’t order a whole village to be rebuilt while simultaneously claiming that she bares no accountability for Varian and Quirin’s problems in season one. 

Replacing Guns with Crossbows Isn’t the Safe Option That the Censors Think It Is

I find it kind of amusing that censors will ban showing a 17th century blunderbuss but allow it to be replaced by a weapon that is still mass produced today and can be bought in any Walmart across the country. Like I’m a major advocate for gun regulation in real life, but even I have to find this to be a bit silly. Crossbows aren’t some fantasy weapon. People still own and use them. But it would be seriously hard to get ahold of a working antique firearm.  

Seriously This Is How the Girls Have Been Living and the Adults Haven’t Done Anything About It Until Now?

I feel like I’m beating a dead horse by now, but it’s so engrained into the episode I have to keep bringing it up. The show itself is visually telling us that Red and Angry can’t keep living this way, but it never wants to call Rapunzel and the other adults out for not rescuing them from this life sooner. 

So All This Tells Me Is That Rapunzel Could Have Easily Checked Up On Varian In Painter’s Block, But Didn’t.

Remember they’re right next to Old Corona; meaning that Janus Point is also right next to Old Corona. Meaning that Rapunzel could easily have checked up on Varian right after Painter’s Block and choose not to. With each passing episode Rapunzel has less and less excuse for her behavior in season one. 

Yeah Remember that Plot Point That Wound Up Being Entirely Irrelevant to the Story?

In jokes don’t cover your ass when you make poor writing choices. Quite the opposite in fact as all you’ve done is remind the audience of all the various dangling plot threads that you will fail to follow up on. The disciples plot goes no where and serves no purpose, and it should not have been introduced as this big important thing if you weren’t going to do anything with it. 

Nice Idea, Poor Execution

I’ve heard fans of this episode tell me that they enjoy it because of this scene with Red. If you’re a naturally introverted person or neurodivergent and have trouble communicating at times then Red’s speech here can strike a cord. Which is cool; I’ll never deny someone’s feelings and if a piece of media speaks to you on a personal level for whatever reason that is great. What I’m here to discuss though is story structure and whether or not the story’s themes are presented well in context of what it’s set up. 

The conflict here does not work from a pure structural standpoint because it’s a surface level deflection of the real issues. Red’s problem isn’t that she is being ignored, it's that she’s been abandoned. Now communication issues can arise from that abandonment and feeling heard can be step forward in working those issues out, but Red’s central trauma isn’t going to be magically fixed by people ‘listening’ to her, i.e. being granted whatever she wants, but by providing her with a real home and with a real guardian to look after her. 

Because what Red wants on a surface level is harmful to her, and the reasons why she wants what she wants needs to be addressed more so than then sedating her angry outbursts in the moment. This is treating the symptoms not the cause.

So What Is or Isn’t Real About the Curse?

Once again, we finally get some actual lore and rules for magic and the writers are already throwing it away during the same episode they are introduced. I now have as little context for how the wolf curse works within the Tangled world as I did before the episode started. 

This Is Sweet, But Once Again Context Brings It Down.

So just to reiterate, this a surface level resolution to the conflict of the episode that doesn’t actually address anything. It might feel like an appropriate ending but only if you ignore the fact that Red and Angry are orphans who’ve been abandoned but the adults. 

Angry apologizing here to Red does not solve any of their problems, especially since Angry, as a child herself, is not responsible for her sister’s behavior, feelings, nor well being. That falls to the adults and they fail to address Red’s core issues and their own failings to her in their apologies as well. Not to mention that the very next scene undermines any optional progress that could have been made here. 

Listening to Someone Does Not Mean Giving Them Whatever They Want

This does not fix anything. Red and Angry are still left to live on their own without any real supervision. Giving them a big play house is not providing for them, it’s spoiling them. Would you let all the other orphans in the local orphanage roam free without an adult to take care of them? No!? Gee I wonder why? Could it be because letting a 12 and 10 year old raise themselves is a very stupid idea? One that will potentially damage them later in life assuming that they don't get themselves killed in the meantime. 

Moreover this is yet another example of the series overall problem with not understanding that compromise and resolving conflicts does not mean rewarding the characters at the end with everything that they want without having them work for it. That’s not how life works and it’s not how good story telling works. 

This Is Beyond Irresponsible

No! Bad Show! Bad! 

You do not get to pretend that negligence is the same thing as compromise. Yes I know Eugene said to come to him when they have a problem, but as demonstrated by this very episode children do not always know when to ask for help nor can they always find it when needed, that is why parents exist!  

Nor does the show get a free pass for turning it’s main characters into child abusers who neglected three minors multiple times now. Even when they themselves are victims of that same abuse!

How utterly blinkered do you have to be to not see the problem here? 

It’s the Return of the Pointless Parallels

Let me count the ways for how stupid this is. 

Red and Angry’s conflict has no impact on the on going narrative. Even with them now being reoccurring characters they still manage to contribute nothing to the future storylines involving Cass. 

Neither Rapunzel nor Cassandra learn anything from Red and Angry’s spat; Rapunzel because she refuses to acknowledge her own flaws and Cassandra’s not even here for any of it. 

The sister’s dynamic between Raps and Cass is not well established and the writers mange to piss all over it by series end because of gay baiting and poor writing. Therefore relying on lazy parallels to other siblings in the show to bolster this connection falls flat.  

Red and Angry’s argument has nothing in common with Rapunzel and Cass’s current fighting. One is about abandonment issues and the other is about shallow validation. Trying to tie these two themes together actually winds up undermining both conflicts. 

Red and Angry are children. Rapunzel and Cassandra are not. That very much matters. 

Red and Angry didn’t drag innocent people into their petty bitch fight and endanger them because they wanted to feel special. 

This Makes Zero Sense

I don’t know; she looked pretty happy during Crossing the Line. 

She was also able to control the rocks just fine then, so what happened? 

Not to mention soon after this Zhan Tiri is telling her she needs some sort of incantation to control the rocks, despite being able to already control the rocks.... 

It’s almost as if the writers are full of shit and don’t actually know what they’re doing. 

So Are We Remembering the Burnt Hand or Not?

Does the hand matter or not? Is it ever a motivating factor in what Cassandra decides to do? Is her waning control over the rocks connected to her burnt hand; even though having a burnt hand is what allowed her grab the moonstone in the first place? Did the moonstone heal the hand? Does Raps singing the healing incantation later on heal it? Does Cass have a forever burnt hand? 

Who the fuck knows! 

Not the writers that’s for sure, cause it never comes up again. 

Don’t introduce plot points and then not resolve them. That’s writing 101 guys. 

Wait if she needs the incantation to control the rocks and the angry thing is a lie, then how the heck is she controlling them just now? Make up your dang mind show! 

I swear I lose brain cells whenever I have to rewatch the evil Cassandra plot. It is so dumb  you guys.... so, so dumb. 

Conclusion

It’s not the worst thing ever but series has far better episodes on offer than this one. Even in a season as suck ass as season three. 

So there’s praying that this review posts this time and if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me in my projects feel free to leave a tip on my Ko-Fi. Thank you. 

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #anti-tangled #anti-rapunzel #anti-Cassandra

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Collateral (Smoke and Mirrors)

(A/N: A post-Feinster conversation between Brom and Arya. The whole end of Brisingr has so many implications for reawakening trauma for everyone, especially these two. 

I want to make it abundantly clear, Brom and Arya never have and never will have any sort of romantic/couples thing between them! They’re more of father/daughter, mentor/student and traumatized war buddies. They’ve known each other so long that there’s a lot of trust and understanding between them concerning their traumas and the ways they cope. Anyway, cheers!)

~~~~~~~~~~    

“What the hell! Brom!” 

The elder Rider jerked, nearly inhaling the entire half smoked cigarette that he held to his lips. He whipped around to face his accuser as he choked on the ash he had sucked in, his first words of protest lost when he immediately had to double over in an attempt to clear his irritated lungs.

Arya scowled from where she had stopped not a yard behind her mentor, arms crossed as she waited for Brom to finish his coughing fit. The elf hadn’t exactly planned to seek him out after leaving Eragon and Saphira to rest at the house they now occupied as the Varden secured Feinster, instead looking for a place to sleep in the sacked city. But the steady trail of smoke from behind the corner of a half collapsed stone building had drawn her eye.

“The pipe? That’s fine! I could live with that! You sourced your own stock. But this shit?” Arya plucked the smoldering stick from his fingers as Brom began to raise his hands in defense. “For fucks sake, you know what’s in them! Enough’s enough!” She threw the cigarette to the sandy gutter beside the house and ground it out with her heel. 

Brom finally managed a handful of words edgewise. “I’m out of pipe weed. The whole city is out.” Grumbling to himself as stepped back to lean against the wall, he began fishing his hands in the pockets of his coat. Arya’s eyes narrowed when his hands reappeared holding a beaten, half empty pack of Talon Filtereds and a squashed box of matches. “Don’t start with me again, girl. I’m not in the mood.”

As usual, his former student ignored him. “You’re chain smoking again?” Her words were sharp, almost accusing, but beneath it all edged a hint of worry.

Brom snorted, pale smoke venting from his nostrils as the cigarette caught and held. He took a deep inhale, let the feeling circulate in his lungs, before releasing a stream of grief and anger with the acrid vapor. “Would you rather I drink?”

Arya growled quietly and fell back against the wall next to him. This wasn’t a battle she could win, and she knew it. That didn’t change the way she felt. “No, I want you to deal with your fucking emotions in a healthy way.”

At that the Rider let out harsh bark of laughter and a cloud of white. “Look who’s talking, girl! Wait, what’s that?” He held up a hand and sniffed the nicotine laden air theatrically. “Do you smell that? Suddenly it reeks of hypocrisy here!” 

The elf gave a wry grin, the pain behind her own bottled up grief and night terrors tugging at her lips. “...Touché.”

They stood together in silence for a handful of minutes, haloed by smoke and the dim glow of the lanterns that replaced shattered street lights. 

The previous battle was unique for them. It had reopened old wounds that had just started to scab over, gashed a fresh one right across their hearts. She had faced the horrors of her nightmares brought back to life. He had watched helpless as his son and the boy’s partner of heart and mind nearly died. Both had lost the man that practically raised them, the one person they assumed they would never need to expect would die. 

Brom broke the thick silence. He took a short pull of his cigarette and tilted his head to regard the woman beside him. “Are you holding up?” 

He hid his grimace by lifting the stick back to his face when Arya dropped her gaze and refused to look at him. That was never a good sign. And she had been doing so well before Feinster.

“I’m fine.” The elf flicked her eyes in Brom’s direction when he moved, and scoffed when she saw the pointed, rather familiar expression he now gave her. “Oh, what?” Brom didn’t answer, merely put the cigarette to his lips again and raised his eyebrows even further. “Everything right now is just…. It’s fucked up, Brom. There isn’t time for me to...I don't know, vent?” She scowled and pushed stray hair back from her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts. “Fall apart? Sort through it. You know that.” 

The elder Rider let out a grunt of acknowledgement around the dull orange of the tipping paper before gesturing to Arya’s neck. “Not enough time for healing that, then?”

Arya’s hand came up to touch her throat subconsciously, the dark marks under her jaw giving a light twinge at the contact. Eragon had healed the internal damage to her throat and muscles, but battlefield healing and exhaustion had let the surface injuries remain. 

“They’re just bruises.” Still, her fingers lingered there, testing the injured flesh. Trying to chase away the feeling of cold hands around her throat and the smell of blood and concrete, the face and triumphant, gleeful snarl of another man-shaped monster. 

Brom watched her out of the corner of his eye. When Arya abandoned the bruises to rub the back of her neck, that telltale tic that she had used for well over a year now, he ashed his cigarette and gently tapped her shoulder with the back of his free hand. “It wasn’t him. He’s dead and gone. Eragon saw to that.”

Arya let out a shaky stream of breath and dropped her hand from where she had been smoothing over the scars that slashed above the edge of her tank top. “Yeah, I know.” Sliding to the ground, the elf balanced on the balls of her feet and plucked a pebble from the earth before mumbling, “Doesn’t change how my brain sees it though.”

She looked up at her mentor, doing all she could to hide her desperation for a distraction as the old scenes loomed in her mind. “What about you, old man? Hanging in there?”

Brom’s lip twitched in a sudden snarl, the cigarette bobbing with the motion. “I’m going to kill that demon’s spawn.” 

The change in his voice sent a sudden chill down Arya’s spine, chasing away the lingering sparks that raced across her scars. This wasn’t the voice of the man who had lived the last seventeen years. This was the voice of the man Arya had met on the trails of Ellesméra, a walking embodiment of rage, betrayal and anguish that could burn all in his path. “You mean Murtagh?”

With a violent jab of his hand Brom stabbed out remnants of his first smoke on the wall behind him. He ignored the pinpricks of blood that welled up from his fingers as he yanked a fresh stick out of the box and clamped it in his teeth to light as he growled, “He doesn’t get a name anymore. He’s dead when I see him, dragon or no dragon. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.” The first match he struck snapped in half and fizzled out. Brom swore and threw the shattered bits away and broke his cardinal rule to light the soothing cigarette with a spark of magic at his fingers, angrily puffing as it took.

Arya regarded him steadily, hearing the pain that edged the fury like so many razors. It would do no good to remind the Rider that Galbatorix had been in control when he struck the final blow against Oromis and Glaedr, nor would he want to hear that the young man and the red dragon were not Morzan and his twisted mount. 

“...You really wanted them to be different, didn’t you?” The moment the words left her mouth Arya felt the folly of letting them loose. 

Brom’s brilliant blue eyes turned to her, nostrils flared in rage as they jetted twin streaks of smoke. His hand lifted slightly, hovering near head height where Arya crouched beside him. The elf tensed, ready to take the blow if he struck. 

He stopped. His fingers flexed, as though they could not make up their mind. At his lips the cigarette trembled, the trail of smog from its end wavering. For the briefest of moments, Arya saw a blazing flash of...failure...in his eyes. That was failure, failure and agony at the lives lost, though two still walked among the living. And then it was gone, replaced by an intense but controlled anger.

Brom lowered his trembling hand. “...Just let me smoke, dammit.”

“Fair enough.”

Another ten minutes passed, the only sounds being the Varden watch patrols calling out to each other in the sleeping city. Brom let his somewhat crumpled cigarette burn down to the mashed filter before grinding it out. His shaking had calmed, the enraged light in his eyes dimmed. 

He cleared his throat as he shook another snout from the dwindling box. “...You had a shift watching Eragon and Saphira earlier?” Arya nodded, rolling the pebble she had picked up in her palm and shifting her balance in accordance with its movements. “And how are they doing with all of this?”

Another wry grin tilted the corner of the elf’s lips, though she did not raise her gaze. “Exceptionally better than we are.” The two shared a short laugh before she spoke again, almost hesitant. “Eragon is...having trouble. With something that happened while he was helping clear out Feinster.”

“What happened?”

Arya rocked back onto her heels and recounted Eragon’s telling of the boy that had startled him inside one of Feinster’s homes. The sheer shock he felt when he saw the youth, his pang of recognition, and, later, the horror he felt when he realized just how close he had come to killing an innocent civilian. “It’s been eating him up inside. Saphira’s told him over and over that he didn’t actually kill the kid, that it all worked out, but he’s still thinking about it.” She sighed, and with a flick of her wrist threw the pebble down like a dart. It gouged a crater into the compacted, sandy soil, the quiet thud and depth of the impact betraying her unearthly strength. “I told him to stop and just forget about it when he asked me how I would handle it.”

Brom paused. “...That’s unlike you.”

The elf rubbed her temples and shifted back to the balls of her feet, agitated and indecisive. “Yeah, well...I shut down a bit when he mentioned it. He wanted to try and get me to open up again, seeing as it’s gone well the last few times.” She shook her head, braid swaying. “I couldn’t. Not to them. Not about that.”

Realization dawned on the older Rider, and he pinched his cigarette between his pointer and thumb as he drew a long, deep pull and gathered his thoughts. He exhaled slowly, a heavy sigh of memories that were only partly repressed by the nicotine’s taste in his mouth, before slipping a hand into his pocket and peering up at the half concealed stars above. “Right. Thornwell.” He flicked the ashes away. “...Now that’s something I’d rather forget.”

“Fuck off. The day we forget Thornwell we better be fuckin’ dead.” Arya’s tone was harsh, laced with the bitterness of failure and a vehement streak of self-hatred that the elf rarely let out into the open. “We’re the only ones left to remember it, and it was our fucking fault. Don’t you dare try to brush it off.”

“I’m not.” With a soft pat, Brom dropped his free hand onto Arya’s head. The touch was sudden, so much so that the elf nearly jerked away until she felt the tension in the man’s muscles, the miniscule tremors that the cigarettes couldn’t suppress. 

He knew. The memories still hurt plenty. He couldn’t let them go either. 

Arya sighed and ducked her head, breaking the contact. “Good.” Her voice wasn’t as sharp now. Just...tired. 

The taste of rich dirt, acrid smoke from a magic fueled fire and burning plastics rushed her senses with the memory of Thornwell’s resurgence. Uncaring if any of Eragon’s guards were in sight, she spat to the side, trying to rid herself of the shame laced flavor. Again she found herself resentful of her mind’s sensory recall, bitterly wishing elves memories could fade to washed out images and sounds as humans did.

“Here.” The combat liaison looked up to see Brom offering his still smoldering cigarette down to her. She stared at it for a long moment before gingerly accepting the roll between two fingers and shot a wary, questioning look to her mentor. “I don’t just smoke them for nicotine. It’s the only thing keeping the tastes out of my mouth.”

A moment later saw Arya coughing and gagging as she thrust the cigarette back. “That’s awful!” She spat again, choking on what felt like burning fumes. “Fuck!”

“But it worked, didn’t it?”

“I’ll tell you when I stop feeling like there’s acid in my throat!”

The old man was right, though. The acrid, vile taste had drowned out the pervading scents and flavors of that one day so many decades ago.

As the elf took a sip from the canteen off her belt, Brom turned his gaze back to the clouded stars. “...That was the day you broke my jaw, wasn’t it?”

Arya snorted into the neck of the canteen before muttering, “I cracked your cheekbone. I was…” She paused, screwing the cap back on and trying to choose the words that would cause the least pain for both of them. “We both were fucked up in that moment. You just wouldn’t realize it. I had to do something.” 

“...I was like that a lot back then.”

“Yeah.” Arya clipped the canteen back on her belt. Rubbed her hands together. 

She couldn’t bring herself to admit just how scared of him she had been that day, even before the accident. Brom carried within him a level of intensity at times that transcended rage. Thornwell was an incident where that blind fury led them both to ruin, at the cost of innocent lives. 

Brom cleared his throat, drawing the elf’s eye back to him. “You know...we should start easing Eragon and Saphira into the notion that...that there’s going to be collateral someday.” The words left his mouth with a grimace and puffs of smoke. “Prepare them for it. Eragon’s so empathetic, I’m worried that–”

“No!” The Rider jerked, startled by the sharp, nearly shouted dismissal. Soft flecks of ashes scattered down, drifting to land cool and harmless onto the fists Arya held clenched at her knees.

Her refusal shocked him. Arya, of all people, knew that the right preparation could help lessen the acute effects of war. Her upbringing, like Eragon’s, had done little to prepare her for taking lives, losing comrades, and the burning senses of shame, self-hatred and anguish that could all accompany a prolonged conflict. As naïve as she had been when she joined the Varden, with only the surface understanding of her eventual role, it all had left a lasting impact on the elf. 

Brom frowned. His former student’s body was ridgid, knuckles white. “Arya, you know it’s going to happen sooner or later–” 

Arya cut him off again, her voice softer yet edged with a firm, pained conviction. “Brom...we both know it’s already happened.” And she pointed out towards the city around them. “You can’t tell me there weren’t people here.”

Some of the buildings were collapsed inward on themselves. Shopfronts, family businesses with living quarters above, stood half charred or half destroyed. Behind them, towards the towering keep, the building that Saphira had torn apart tooth and claw was abandoned besides smears of gore. 

A nagging, grim understanding began creeping into Brom’s mind. 

“I know he’s your son, and I know you have more of a say in what you tell him.” Arya continued. “But I can’t let you put the idea in his head. He’s so...he feels so much, Brom. He feels for others as much as he feels for himself. Saphira tries to help him through it but through him, she feels it too.” Tiny tremors shook her fists, nails biting into her palms. “If you start trying to prepare him, they’re going to realize that it’s probably already happened. They’re going to start wondering when. Why they didn’t notice it before. How many. 

“That spiral doesn’t stop. It’s so hard to shut out, and….” She stopped, just short of her voice breaking. “I don’t want that to happen to them. Just...let them have this, Brom. Let me worry about it. Okay?”

Brom dragged the last trails of smoke from his cigarette and reached down. Placed his hand on the elf’s head and gently ran his thumb over her hair as he had always done with Eragon when the boy was frightened by his stories years ago. She tensed for a moment, before he felt the pent up stress ease. “Okay.” The older Rider tapped out the end of his smoke on the wall. “I see your point, kid.” With a gentle shift he pushed her to lean a shoulder against his leg in a comforting gesture of support and understanding. “But when it happens, you tell me. They’ll need both of us.”

“I will.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, supporting each other as the night’s words swirled through their minds. 

“...I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.” Arya muttered suddenly. 

Brom let out a soft scoff. “Join the club.” 

It brought another grim smile to the elf’s face. “Walk with me? Patrolling tends to help.”

“Fine.” Brom reached into his coat as Arya stood and stretched. He swore quietly when he found that the box of Talons was empty. 

Realizing that Arya was watching him, Brom gave the box one last longing look before crumpling it in his fist and dropping it into his pocket. “Lead the way, kid.”

#Modern Inheritance #inheritance cycle #eragon #modern inheritance stories #the cyclists #Ket's Modern Inheritance Cycle #Brom #Arya #arya drottningu #collateral damage #referenced torture #war #war trauma #effects of war #tobacco use #these two dealing with the fucked up end of Brisingr #hurt/comfort #look they both need hugs #the mystery of thornwell #lots of angst #brom's more prone to addictions #everyone in MIC has issues its what its ABOUT #what it was MADE FOR #the leg lean is weird I'll admit but it's something i used to do for comfort #my friends rolled with it #it's a bit of regression ngl #anyway yay NEW MIC CONTENT #post brisingr pre inheritance

[my-personality-i-guess]

I’m gonna post spoilers of WW84 under the cut, because I did not like the movie and you all need to know why

So I’m gonna start out with what I liked about it, because honestly it was kind of good. Gal Gadot? Phenomenal, gorgeous, 10/10 I rewatched the first Wonder Woman and the woman loving side of my sexuality has reawakened. Costumes? I am not a fan of the 80s, but damn could I get behind every single outfit. I don’t even need to talk about the Amazons, they were beautiful, like I said, women. The cinematography was also quite good. 

But the first Wonder Woman movie was definitely better. 

WW84 started out fantastic. I loved the opening scene with young Diana, and it set up such a great concept for the movie. Would’ve been great if they stuck to that huh. Then we meet Kristen Wiig, who honestly I’ve never really liked. Maybe I haven’t seen her in enough stuff though, because I absolutely fell in love with Barbara. Especially the obvious gay subtext between her and Diana. All starting out phenomenally. There’s great setup for Diana to fall in love with Barbara, work out her love for Steve and the trauma she got from the war. I’d even go for a love triangle with Barbara, Diana, and Max. Then everything switches.

It feels like there were two different writers for the film. One writer set up a phenomenal plot line, a budding romance, and a storyline about healing from your past and moving on. Then the second writer scrapped all that and resurrected Steve. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Chris Pine in both Wonder Woman movies, and he was pretty funny in WW84, but his whole character just seemed to be there solely to put an end to the romance between Barbara and Diana. He played a role with very little impact. Honestly, I finished WW84 literally 5 minutes ago and I forgot Steve was even in the movie. All of a sudden there’s no plot. My whole family was confused. My dad said it was “just like a stereotypical 80s movie.” Where was the brilliant storyline that had started? Why are we skipping over what could have been a revolutionary film for a literal remake of Aladdin? (literally it’s just Aladdin. That’s the whole thing. Aladdin and queerbaiting) 

If we skip over the Aladdin bits (the entire plot line yes it’s as basic as it sounds) all there is is some forced relationship between Diana and Steve to cover up the blatant queerbaiting and, I would argue, homophobia. It’s so incredibly obvious that Barbara is in love with Diana, even though she apparently falls in love “every day, all the time” (which feeds into some harmful stereotypes about bisexuality, by the way), and yet the screenwriters try to play it off like Barbara just really admires her. I was 100% sure that Barbara was going to wish that Diana fall in love with her, but she instead wanted to be like Diana? Yes, she’s insecure, that was made blazingly obvious, but she was in love with Diana, and Diana had just told her how much she enjoyed Barbara just the way she is. Generally people don’t change what others, especially those they are attracted to, like about them. And there ends the romance. Not even a hint at the date the two went on, nothing about the feelings between the two. Steve shows up, and Barbara is no longer an interesting or relevant character. In fact, she’s killed at the end of the movie. Way to dive headfirst into the pool of kill your gays (electrocute them if you want to be vague about whether or not they’re actually dead). To top it off, Steve just is gone an hour after he was resurrected. Steve just showed up to ruin Diana’s relationship and mental health, cuz I’m sure it wasn’t at all traumatizing to lose the love off your life twice, the second time pretty much directly killing him. 

Other little things I’m pissed about:

1. Lack of diversity. The first Wonder Woman movie had an incredibly diverse cast, and WW84 had the only main character as a POC be the villain. 

2. We never learned more about the Amazons. Woah, they do the Olympics and don’t like cheating, so what? Where’s the deep delve into Amazonian culture that we got in the first film? Why didn’t Diana ever go back to Themyscira?

3. The whole plot is just Aladdin if the genie was evil. That’s it. I’m sure you’ve all seen those posts of “be careful if you meet a genie, they’re evil and manipulative”

4. There was almost no mythology. Nothing. Just 30 seconds of babbling about the “language of the Gods” and the “God of lies” no explanation, no backstory, just a throwaway explanation about how the wishing could vaguely go along with the theme. We didn’t even get any resolution about that? Considering Ares apparently killed all the Gods, I wasn’t really expecting any Godly intervention from whoever that God of lies was, but there was absolutely nothing about what happened to the rock. How did it get out of Max? Did every single person in the world take back their wish, cuz that’s unrealistic. If even one person kept their wish, what happened to the rock. It probably didn’t reform? What happened to the magic???

5. That beautiful suit of armor that’s in all the promo pics, posters, the most iconic part of the trailer? That was there for literally 10 minutes and built into the plot solely for the cameo in the end credits scene. And not even well? The armor was supposedly built to withstand the world? It was torn to shred in 30 seconds, in a fight against a woman with brand new powers she doesn’t know how to work and exactly zero fighting experience. A cheetah hybrid scientist destroyed that armor in 30 seconds flat and you expect me to believe it held back the whole of mankind?

6. Where’s the fun feminism of the first movie? No talk about how women are great? Two and a half hours and the best you can do is the villain beating up the dick who was catcalling and assaulting her and framing it as an evil thing? The entire movie Diana and Barbara were being catcalled and harassed by men who thought they’re gorgeous. Absolutely they don’t have to respond to these men. They don’t have to stick up for themselves to prove that they’re worthwhile. Good for them for ignoring the jerks. But when the only instance of a woman sticking up for herself in the whole film is framed as an evil deed, it’s a bit sketch.

7. The fight scene between Barbara and Diana at the end when Barbara is a Cats movie reject was incredibly boring and not at all riveting and iconic like the fight scenes in the first movie. In fact, every fight scene in WW84 was really flat. It felt like there was a lot of effort put into dampening Diana’s powers. In the first movie Diana was a dynamic and strong individual who had friends who, while not as powerful as her, were important to ending the conflict. In WW84 Diana did everything (except for stopping the mall heist) really poorly, and relied on Steve to get her out of nearly all of her tight spots. For how bad of a character he was, you’d think he wouldn’t do a lot in the movie, but he was constantly saving Diana. Then Diana couldn’t even do anything against Max, it was all the people reversing their wishes. Considering she literally killed a God in the first movie, you’d think she could do something about a man-rock.

tl:dr, it’s an Aladdin remake with queerbaiting and bad plot

#ww84 #ww84 spoilers #ww84 review #wonder woman 1984 #wonder woman 1984 spoilers #dc #queerbaiting #homophobia #screenwriting #movie #review

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, negativenorth!

For @negativenorth <3 

Read On AO3

*****

This is Our Last (First) Christmas

The Hale Pack survived junior year. Miraculously. The troubles that surrounded them sophomore year brought on by their sacrifices to find their parents were increased by the cleansing ritual in the spring Stiles and Deaton did. It cleansed the Hale Territory-including Beacon Hills and the Preserve-The Pack, the air, the ground, even the humans of all the remaining darkness; reawakening the hibernating Ley Lines and brightening the light of Beacon Hills.

The summer was strangely terror-less. Deaton explained the cleansing happened like and earthquake, the energy radiating out and it would take some time until the epicenter was found but once things found it, everyone would tune into it. The Hale Territory was highly desired by many supernaturals for many reasons. Derek (under the advisement of Stiles) began a training regiment for the pack, humans included. Derek focused more on the wolves-Scott, Jackson, Danny, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Ethan and Aiden-who deflection helped defeat the Alpha pack and Derek welcomed in with open arms. The humans trained too, but with Melissa on first aid and field trauma medicine and Chris and John with hand to hand and gun and knife combat training. Stiles had added training with Deaton on magic. Eventually, The wolves joined the humans.

"Why do we need medical training?" Isaac asked, diligently paying attention to proper stitching technique.

"If something happens, yeah you may heal but that doesn't solve blood loss. Or if a human is out. Or you needed to be inconspicuous about lycanthropy. Technically you don't exist." Stiles said. "Or a broken bone that heals wrong."

"He's not wrong. I agree." Derek chimed in.

"You're only agreeing because-"Erica was cut off by a hard nudge to the ribs from Allison and a heated glare from Scott. Stiles was confused but let it go, only to silently agree with the Mate-Marks on their right arm-a vine of bright red thorny roses.

"Well, if Mom says and Dad agrees then I guess we have no choice." Jackson sneered. Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me for wanting you to stay alive, dipshit. These aren't bad skills to have in general even. My first aid saved your fucking ass more than once." Stiles practically snarled. This pack was made up of his friends but that didn't mean they were easy to get along with. Jackson opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Lydia's hand on his arm. Stiles always smiled softly when he got a glimpse of their Mate-Mark behind their ears, the chemical formula C43H66N12O12S2 also known as oxytocin.

A week during the fall of junior year, Stiles felt a chill go down his spine. One of the wards he spent several long days putting up with Deaton's teaching had been triggered. He had put up a dozen or so of varying intent, getting stronger and closer together the closer to Derek's loft they got. Stiles had a list in his journal of placements to recharge them if needed but Deaton had told him with his Spark and use of Ley lines, they will stay charged and operational until removal. Stiles texted to Derek to warn him of the visitor and he with Boyd checked it out.

That was the first of almost weekly trespassers of the creatures-that-go-bump-in-the-night variety. The pack had their training, their strength, their determination to survive but they didn't have their teamwork, their trust, their knowledge to win. Stiles and Lydia and occasionally Allison worked to compile as much information as possible from Deaton and Chris and Derek and independent research as possible. The Pack grew smart but they still couldn't click, they used too much brawn not enough brain.

"You would think, with werewolves needing packs, they would innately understand teamwork." Stiles said. He was at the Argent's house looking at few of Chris's books. He had become more helpful since Allison and Scott finally told him the truth about their Mate-Marks. He didn't like it but he know helped as much as he could knowing that was the only way to get his daughter safe.

"You have to remember Stiles, they may be werewolves now but they are teenagers first. High schoolers. Derek isn't that much older than you all. You somehow see the bigger picture but they can't." Chris said.

"I have always had to see the big picture. No one else was looking at it at the beginning. I was trying to keep everyone alive, not just-"Stiles cut himself off. "You are so right. You always have the best ideas." Stiles sagged a little with relief. He was glad he'd been able to convince Chris to help them, join them. "I have to go." Stiles left the kitchen, uncharacteristically leaving the books scattered on the table. He hopped into his jeep and headed straight to Derek's loft.

"Derek, are you home?" Stiles opened the door to the loft with the only spare key Derek ever made.

"Hey, Stiles. Surprise seeing you here, everything okay?" Derek popped out from the kitchen. "I am making dinner, care to join me?"

"Oh, that would be nice. Everything is okay, I just have something to talk to you about." Stiles sat at the island rubbing a thumb against the glass Derek handed him and the other rubbed the spot behind his ear.

"Okay. If you are this serious then it probably has some merit." Derek said. Stiles felt proud of the growth Derek had gone through. He had become a better man and Alpha since the pack had grown and settled and he was able to grieve properly. Stiles, however was confused at his statement. Derek looked up to see Stiles looking back with his head tilted and eyes narrowed. "You have tells just like the rest of us. You may know all of ours but you don't know your own. You have gotten good at lying to us weres but you forget that some of us? We know you. Like me, you rub behind your ear when you are thinking about something and it may upset the balance of things." Derek explained. Stiles didn't know how to answer, wasn't sure what to say, Derek studied him? It made sense in Stiles' head, at the beginning Derek needed to know everyone's angle even his.

"I didn't know that." Stiles said. He decided to ignore the other parts Derek said until later. "I know as a pack we have strengths and weaknesses. We need to work on those weaknesses, our biggest one? Teamwork. This pack is holding the strongest territory in the Northwest right now, and it is made up of young werewolves and several humans and a Banshee who all happen to be teenagers in high school. We had a social hierarchy and it worked until you bit several of them. Now they have to relearn that, everything is discombobulated causing tensions, and second-guessing and we may have survived until now but eventually that won't be enough. We may be a pack but we won't be a family until that happens." Stiles paused realizing how that sounds. "Not that I want to replace yours. I just want-I don't mean to-I get it. I don't want you to be alone anymore." Stiles finally spit out.

"I know what you mean. I would never think that you of all people are trying to somehow push away my family. You have too much resect for others to even think that." Derek said. His face was relaxed and open, the skin around his eyes wasn't even tight. You probably love hearing this from me, even though I say it a lot. You are right. We don't know each other well enough to know what we'd risk for each other. So what is your idea?" Derek turned back to the stove.

"What makes you think I have an idea?" Stiles asked. Derek just threw a look over his shoulder at the young man.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't have an idea." Derek said.

"I was thinking of having the pack rebuild your house. It would give them a safe common goal and outlet. It would reestablish your territory ad strength pack bonds and the bond with the land. it would give us a den. I know I just said I don't want to replace your family. And that is true. I don't want to because I know I can't. I can however make the pain less, the burden lighter and you happier. We can do this together Derek. Me and you. like always.

"I. I will think about it." Derek said very slowly. Stiles nodded. Derek said nothing else, instead finished up dinner and Stiles took it as a sign to get place settings ready and switch to lighter topics.

The winter of junior year was made up of blood, sweat, tears, anger, resentment, claws, teeth, bullets, arrows. The pack was surviving, but barely. Stiles could see the fault lines forming, the glares more frequent. He never pushed Derek, only waited and hoped. He knew that the Hale Pack had the potential to be amazing once again, but only if they worked for it.

The spring of junior year bloomed with hope, filled with finals college preparation and a wendigo or two. March came and went but April came in like a lion. Derek had made his decision, rebuilding the Hale Manor is needed and would do them some good. The pack had too many issues amongst themselves to work through, if they didn't settle as a whole and members of that whole, then more people would die and the pack would fall apart. Derek's decision came instinctively, The young betas had been arguing over who was to land the first hit, the baddy of the week threw Erica into a tree skewering her on a branch. Derek saw it happen in slow motion, anger thrumming in his veins. That second she impacted the tree Derek knew. He would make a pack out of these teenagers or die trying. They needed the pack as much as he did.

Derek stood over his pack watching them cuddle each other from a distance. They were on the floor of the loft spread out, but unable to ignore the need to touch. Lydia had a leg curled with Allison, tucked under Jackson arm. Isaac bridged the space between Erica and Boyd and Scott and Allison. Stiles was sitting at the island still working. Always working. Derek had actively tried to not look at Stiles, the few glances he allowed had the same results, heart pounding breath catching results. Stiles had showered and was wearing a pair of sweats he'd left here some day and a shirt of Derek's, who's scent of pine and leather mixed deliciously with Stiles' own scent of lemon and honeysuckle. Derek was glad the rest of the pack was sleeping, unable to witness him softening. Stiles was the only one to bring it out. He sat down next to Stiles, pulling his feet into his lap, rubbing lightly.

"I've been thinking...about what you said a while back." Derek couldn't look at Stiles. He instead focused on his feet. "About rebuilding."

"Oh? Did you come to a decision then?" Stiles kept his face turned to the books in front of him, side-eyeing Derek. He knew that staring would only cause Derek to shut down harder. Stiles could feel his heart pounding, knew Derek could hear it but tried to project calmness.

"Yeah. I did. I want to do it. I need to do it. The last step of grieving and the first step of acceptance. This pack needs a fresh start. You are right, like always. I only want to do this if you help me every step of the way. I can't do this by myself. I don't trust anyone else to help." Derek admitted. Stiles beamed. The absolute joy and pride on his face made Derek almost forget that he had just agreed to tear down the last standing reminder of his family.

As if Stiles could read his mind, "They'd want you to be happy. I would be honor to help you.

The decision to rebuild the house triggered something in Stiles. He began working with Deaton, honing his sputtering spark into a full-fledged flame. Deaton was impressed with his strength, commenting the flame was more like an inferno. Stiles did his school work on top of learning magic and keeping a pack of rag-tag teenagers alive. Deaton explained that Sparks were common but without proper training burned out, with proper training Sparks became witches or varied magic users, they often became emissaries to those in need or ran shops. The idea of being a pack emissary resonated with Stiles and that became his goal. He learned moon phases, herbs, spells, enchantments, crystals, sigils, runes, ancient languages. As he learned, he wasn't the only one to grow emotionally. The pack began to pull down the old Hale Manor. Piece by piece, they pulled it down. The beginning was hard-insult were thrown without care for where they landed, more than one fight broke out usually but they worked together and talked and learned about each other. The insults lost their thorns, the glares lost their heat and the smiles lost their fangs.

During the days between the too-hot spring days and the too-cold summer days, the last dumpster full of the remains of the Hale Manor vanished down the road. Derek watched feeling numb. Stiles stood by in quiet solidarity. All that was left was the scorched earth and a smattering of rubble, the grass was stained gray from ash and fire, the foundation crumbling into itself. There would be a specialist coming to demolish and redo the foundation, that was something Derek requested. The two men looked at the now empty clearing, Stiles pretended not to notice the trembling of Derek's fingers. Stiles simply took his hand in his and pulled him down to sit, letting Derek lean against him and grieve.

"No one likes it when strangers speak for those who you have lost. I know I hated it. I also know what it is like to an extent." Stiles paused. "They would be proud of you. You were in a down really low, and you brought yourself back. You did it." Stiles pressed himself into Derek's bulk.

Thanks. It has meaning coming from you. I know you understand. You know loss, not like Scott. You don't pretend to be unaffected like Jackson." Derek sat for a bit, letting the Stiles' strength soak into his bones. He wasn't alone anymore. He could do this. He wasn't 16 again pushing away Laura in a fit of survivor's guilt. He had Stiles. He had his pack. "Now what?" Derek turned to face Stiles, looking like as lost as a child after a nightmare.

"Now we build your house. Together." Stiles said. "And watch YouTube. Lots of it."

The summer between junior and senior year was the best Stiles had in a long time. He and his mother always had adventures and busy days. Then one year it was just him and Scott. It was only the two of them for years, neither popular enough for summer plans. The others in the pack in similar circumstances. Allison didn't stay around long enough to make plans and Lydia and Jackson's families made plans without consent. Stiles and Derek read and watched and googled for hours before getting the materials. The did it step by step from framing to electric to plumbing to hanging drywall to building stairs to putting in windows. Derek bought the supplies, secretly pleased that the insurance, investment, assess money was getting some use, not just growing interest, coming into several millions of dollars was daunting without a purpose especially when part of the blame fell on his shoulders. With every step of the way, Stiles and Derek worked together to make the idea into a house into a home. Stiles layered charms and spells and enchantments and runes and straight ingredients into everything. Protection from water, fire, illness, bad luck, ill-intent, accidents, death, and anything Stiles could think of was woven into every step, from the frame to the paint. The house was built by Stiles and Derek for the pack, for the future, for each other.

"Derek, we need a bigger kitchen. And I think a mudroom will be a good investment with a lever handle door. We have a nice entrance way, where people came come in and hang up their jackets and put away shoes but the back entrance doesn't have anything." Stiles was looking over the blueprints with Derek. He was making notes for when they finalized some decisions.

"Why?" Derek asked.

"You will be housing a pack of teenage/twentysomething werewolves. You need a big enough kitchen and matching pantry to feed a small country." Stiles said, still scribbling notes.

"No." Derek growled. He was running out of patience. He wanted to make this house with Stiles but everyone seemed to have an opinion on something. Which would be fine it he had asked, or if there was some logic but the majority was just annoying.

"You don't want a big kitchen? I mean it is your house." Stiles looked confused but his voice seemed blank, undermined by his pounding heart and cold brittle scent of sadness.

Derek wanted to growl but held back. Derek didn't want to push him away. Derek liked how close they had been getting, his wolf was pleased as well. His wolf had been unusually attached to the young man since the beginning and was originally satisfied but as time went on both Derek and his wolf wanted more and more, not sure what they were asking for. The concern for Stiles' wellbeing, high sensitivity to Stiles' emotion and heartbeat, The willingness to entertain Stiles' commentary and personality and enjoy it, his gaze lingering on Stile' fingers and throat, reveling in the challenges he offered all resonated with Derek as signs pointing to Stiles being his mate but if that was true they would have Mate-Marks.

"It is our house." Derek said. It was all he could give right now, a house where Stiles could be relaxed and happy, Derek would have to accept what he had for right now.

"So, yes big kitchen?" Stiles looked up, Derek just stared back waiting. "Oh! The lever handle is so you can open it with paws."

That is humiliating. And smart. Make it so."

"You did not just make a Star Trek: The Next Generation reference. Are you a closeted nerd?" Stiles poked Derek in the ribs, peering at him suspiciously. Derek stayed silent, glad Stiles couldn't hear his pounding heart. Stiles laughed, head tilted back, cheeks crinkled and mouth open. Derek could only stare and memorize the moment, proud he got Stiles to laugh that easily. Derek could hear the thoughts in his soul: mine, claim, mate. The possessiveness and softness was happening more and more but only around Stiles, further adding to the mate checklist. Derek just enjoyed the moment.

Come on. Let's finish this. I do eventually want to move in, ya know?" Derek tapped the paper with a single claw, trying to remind Stiles-ineffectually-he could rip his throat out with his teeth.

The weekend before senior year found the pack piled in the living room of the recently finished Hale Manor. The pack was well-protected and well-stablished now with Stiles' magic and the 'den' and the bonds that were solidified over the summer. Deaton said the terrors of the years past will not go away but would drastically slow down. The Hale Territory was claimed and the others would understand innately. The plan worked, the band of high school students thrown together by happenstance became a pack, a family. And it showed, in moment like this. They were tightly woven together on a bed of pillows and blankets with a Disney movie playing softly on TV. Stiles looked on and felt his chest warm and his heart flutter. He pulled out his phone and making sure the shutter and flash were off took a few pictures, trying to shove away the sadness and nostalgia. He had been slightly obsessed with taking photos lately, needing proof that the pack had come together, they now had a home not only physically but in one another too. He had done it, he had somehow kept them alive through all the bullshit. They only had one year left together and he didn't want to look back and regret not capturing the memories or being unable to remember the normal days. One day, a year from now he would look up and realize everyone had scattered like seeds on the wind, he wanted to remember. Stiles got up from the chair he was curled up in, he was feeling melancholy didn't want to ruin the mood. Even Derek was on the edge of the puppy pile. He decided to use his favorite goodbye tactic he borrowed from the Irish.

"I can hear you thinking too hard from over here. Come join us. Get comfy. And we can talk, I know something is on your mind." Derek ungracefully shoved the others to make room. It isn't pack night if one person leaves."

Fine." Stiles was a sucker for the pack card. He knew he was pack but not being a wolf meant he couldn't feel the bonds as strongly as the others so he needed reminded sometimes. Stiles slipped in between Derek and the pack, thoughts like: safe, pack, mate, mine. After a few seconds Derek pinched him lightly. "I just don't know hat I am to do next. I did what I was supposed to do. I kept Scott alive, I helped you, I healed the land, solidified the pack. My job is done. This time next year, the pack might be tossed across the country and then what? We come back for weekend and holidays? For how long? Then we just fall apart and I never have this again? I made this family just like each of them did. I can't lose another one." Stiles felt his stomach drop at the cold, bitter, sharp feeling his own words gave him.

"That isn't how this works. A pack this established only gets stronger. No one gets out. There may be distance but not much and not for long. We are too new of a pack for that. You certainly don't get to leave, you are my emissary. You are connected to me and the pack and the land. Don't force ties to break when you don't know the future. There is time, there are options. Enjoy now, before fretting about the future. Talk to them, You'd be surprised to hear you aren't as alone as you think." Derek pulled Stiles closer, tucking him tightly into his embrace. "That is why you get sad after taking photos. You think old memories are all you will have left."

"I would rather leave then be left. I have grow weary of being left." Stiles tried to shrug.

"Don't look too far ahead, you'll miss the now. Make memories to enjoy the moment not resign yourself to only having memories." Derek said. Stiles nodded and snuggled closer, Derek's body heat and voice rumbling in his chest soothing his anxiety. "Go to sleep, Stiles. I'll be right here."

Fall of senior year was calm, content. Stiles and Lydia and Danny were in a heated competition for valedictorian, a contest that was a secret to everyone in school but no one in the pack. Some filled out college applications like Danny, Jackson, Lydia. Some decided to go the technical route like Erica, Boyd. Isaac and Scott were looking at community college. Stiles adopted a forget about it and it doesn't exist attitude. He often pulled out pamphlets or packets only to sort them into piles and then put them away again. He changed the subject when asked about anything dealing with after senior year. The closest he got to talking about it was with Derek one day, by themselves hanging out on a Friday night. He told Derek, he liked magic and the supernatural and being a witch, he might open a shop, take over for Deaton who wanted to be a vet and only a vet. That was the last time he seriously spoke about it. The pack spent full moons together, running and eating dinner and then a sleepover. Slowly each pack member added their own things to the house, a blanket here, a favorite mug there, A sweatshirt draped over a chair, a forgotten pair of shoes left by the front door. Stiles took pictures and cleaned and tutored. He talked a lot without saying much. Derek knew something was on his mind.

"I want you to come over tonight. I told everyone to stay away. We have some things to talk about." Derek texted him one day in October.

Stiles went over, slouched over like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Derek felt sympathy for the kid.

"Stiles, I know you have been struggling a bit. Understandably so. A lot has happened these past few years. I want you to sit here with me, all night if we have to, and talk over your options. I want you to do what you want to do. I know your dad wants you to go to college and I know you want to open a shop. I think you can do both, and with the way the world works, I think you could make it work. I would gladly help, we can build you a small shop here or something." Derek said. Stiles sagged, eyes lit with relief.

"You don't think it is a dumb idea? Magic isn't well known, and I won't be successful." Stiles said.

"You are right, But people from all over will come if you are good. You will gain a following. I believe you would be a great successor to Alan, if you so choose. I will gladly help you get to that point." Derek said.

"What? I don't even know what I am doing." Stiles rubbed his face. "I can't let you...support me while I decide what I want to do."

"You are running out of time. You didn't hold me up in a pool for two hours for me for me to not learn what kind of person you are. You already made up your mind. You have helped me over and over and over again. Let me help you!" Derek demanded. Stiles threw up his hands, groaning loudly.

"What do you want me to say? That I want to learn all that I can to help you be the best alpha you can be? of the best pack we can be? And if I help other people with things around town or even farther, that would be perfection? That I have no idea what I want to do, but I can't see myself going to university and getting a typical 9-5 job and having 2.5 kids? That you coming in all dark and broody ruined me for all normalcy." Stiles ranted. He was gesturing wildly, pacing in short burst.

"Yeah. That is all I want. Feel better?" Derek, pulled Stiles close, rubbing his nose into his hair. Stiles leaned against him, this time borrowing strength.

"A little. I am glad I finally got to say it aloud. now I have to convince my dad." Stiles said. Derek squeezed him in a side hug.

"We have to convince your dad. You aren't alone, I'm not going anywhere, ever, We're a team." Stiles smiled softly and nodded, relaxing into Derek's grip.

The days and nights grew colder, the wolves handing full moon runs when the humans got the food, hot chocolate and movies ready for their return. Or rather Stiles did, the others just laid about, studying or figuring out how to move into Derek's house without their families noticing. November was quickly finishing and Stiles' favorite time of year was approaching. He had already pulled out the containers of decorations for his own house, trying to figure out how to bring it up to Derek. He wanted to have a pack Christmas, wanted to go out and pick out a tree together, and hang the garlands and argue over where the lights go on the tree, hang up ornaments and behind everyone's back rearrange them. He wanted to get presents for everyone, wrapping them with paper and ribbons and bows.

"Stiles, is something burning?" Scott said coming into the kitchen, kissing Allison on the temple. The other Mates sharing in similar displays of affection. Jackson and Lydia cuddling on a large chair, Erica and Boyd sharing a chaste kiss. Derek walked up to Stiles simultaneously pulling the pan of bacon off the stove and trailing a hand down his jaw to latch into his hair.

"Shit! The bacon. I was distracted. Sorry. It should be fine, I am mixing it to make perogies for you tomorrow. Its Sunday after all." Stiles said softly. He still looked a million miles away, Derek pulled him around ducking slightly to make eye contact.

"Stiles, is something the matter? Are you okay?" Derek asked. After they talked about Stiles' future Stiles had been coming to Derek more and more for support. Derek was more vocal with his thoughts, trying to verbalize emotions. The pack was close, a family but only because the two of them were a solid unit. They knew each other in and out.

Stiles looked nervous, like he didn't know how to ask. Derek just raised an eyebrow. "I want to decorate for Christmas. Here. I want to go and pick out directions and a tree and argue over lights and rearrange the ornaments when no one is looking. I want to agonize for days over the prefect presents. I want to do that, if you are okay with that." Stiles said, in a round of word vomit.

"Okay. I want that too, I was going to ask soon, you just beat me to the punch. How about we pick a day after Thanksgiving to pick out a tree and maybe you can come with me a few days to pick out Christmas decorations, without the children." Derek huffed a laugh into Stiles' temple. "This is your house too, You'll be here just as much as I will be. I want you to do what makes you happy."

"Okay. I'd like that. We can talk about it more later. Let's eat and then tomorrow we can look at some ideas, I want you to be the end all, end all on decisions." Stiles beamed at Derek. He went back to making dinner, leaving the slightly burnt bacon cool off to the side.

Thanksgiving was spent with their families, Derek did join the Stilinksi and McCalll's and Isaac for the big meal, finalizing plans with Stiles on decorations and tree-hunting. They decided on a red, green, gold scheme and more traditional type decorations, simple and minimalistic. Stiles used his internet skills to get some deals on older decorations on craigslist and facebook. They had a few pick-ups scheduled and the time for tree-hunting at a local christmas tree farm. Derek's only request was it had to be a big tree.

The pack three days later met up and began discussing trees. They were all in agreement, for a tall bushy tree but they couldn't pick a species until an employee showed them the examples and explained the difference. Three hours later and they finally agreed on the perfect tree and were on the way to the house. Stiles made them help him put it up right away so it warms up and the branches drop. The pack then scatters and Stiles and Derek head out and got decorations.

Derek watched Stiles spend the next few days putting the inside decorations in places. Derek helping with a comment here or there, but staying quiet, enjoying having someone to share the holiday with. "Thank you Stiles. I am glad, even though we've been through some shit together, that I have met you. I found myself because of you. I am glad that you are happy here with me." Derek told him.

"Me too. I feel safe here with you. Like I belong here, with you." Stiles said. "I know that wolves have mates obviously when they get introduced to each other, but sometimes when I am with you...you look at me and see me and I feel you..." Stiles shook his head.

"I do too. I am more attuned to you and your scent and heart than anyone in the pack. I can only chalk it up to you doing what would be my mate's job if I had one. I am not sure Stiles but I am not mad about it. Maybe after the holidays we can figure it out." Derek said.

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan." Stiles agreed.

The almost confessions triggered something, Derek became more tactile and protective than ever towards Stiles, Stiles made sure the betas were fed and the house was clean and tutored when needed and gave advice. They had been a unit before but now, Stiles and Derek were barely apart, only for school hours. Stiles' dad at one point asked if he was moving in and Stiles took that as permission and did just that (practically) moved in and also used the opportunity to tell John about his post-school plans. John was hesitant and needed some time to think it over before he could agree and support his son. Stiles did as promised and agonized for days what to get each of his friends. He meticulously wrapped each and every one of them. The one that took the longest to put together was the most important.

Stiles had learned many things over the last two and half years, about the world, himself, his hometown, his local vet. One of those things was his most important secret-he had been in love with Derek Hale for two of those years. It wasn't anything grand or extreme, one day Stiles saw him smile at a joke and decided he needed to do that all the time. Stiles knew that Derek needed somebody in his corner and chose to be that person. He didn't know spending all that time with his dry humor and caring nature and supportive personality would result with him falling in love with the older man but he wouldn't change anything that happened for anything in the world. 'except getting his real family back.'Stiles thought. 'That is it! A photo album. The Hales are a very old and well known family, there should be some photographs floating around.'

Stiles got to work. He went to the library and school paper archives, pulling out back issues of newspapers and yearbooks. He called into several nearby packs, opening the Hale pack up to negotiations in the future and even searched through Beacon Hills residents photos to find any and all of the Hale family memories. He also searched the star registry for a bright one towards the north and named it Talia Hale, so Derek would be able to find a guiding light for the rest of his life.

Stiles spent days putting the album together, finding near 75 photos and newspaper clippings for it. He also framed the star certificate and got a observatory to take very good photos of the star. and framed those as well. He was so focused Stiles forgot that his dad told him family was coming over. He obsessed over ever little detail for his present.

Derek did not fare much better. He had decided on a two part present for Stiles as well. One was a greenhouse/workshop Derek was having built for Stiles and a small business front to turn into a shop. Derek bought the shop and added Sties name to the deed so it was legally his. The greenhouse was going to be built in the spring so it could be used over the summer. Derek knew it might be too much for a friend but Stiles saved his life. Without Stiles, Derek would be alone and devastated and family-less. He fell in love with the whiskey eyes and contagious laughter and selflessness and love and compassion. They may not be Mates but Derek wanted no one else with him in the future, not only as a pack member or an emissary but even more than that. Derek kept his feelings a secret not wanting to push Stiles away.

The 23rd of December was the pack Christmas day. They had a wonderful breakfast and were in their PJ's getting settled and waiting for everyone. Everyone go a seat and the presents were sorted. They went in a circle.

"Derek, can you open my last? I...um..." Stiles said. Derek nodded not commenting on the obvious nerves.

"Only if you open mine last too." Derek said. Stiles nodded smiling gratefully. They went around and opened presents; clothes and make up and a few books for the girls, the boys got video games and comics and clothes. Honestly it was a good first Christmas as friends.

all that was left was Derek's present from Stiles and vice versa. The pack watched in silence. Neither moved.

"Please go first." Stiles pleaded. Derek looked between the presents left on his lap and Stiles. Derek picked up what Stiles knew to be the album. Derek gently pulled the paper off pausing in confusion. He looked up at Stiles again who waved at him to continue. He opened the book, the front page being a family picture of the Hales for the work Talia did to create the preserve.

"Stiles, is this..."Derek couldn't finish.

"Yeah It is. A Hale Pack photo album. Took me a while to make it. Think it was an idea even before I knew it." Stiles explained. Derek thought of the all the photos Stiles had taken recently and flipped to the back pages, glossy photos of his current family lined the pages. The last phot was a picture of him and Stiles cuddling on a pack night, the note below was in Allison hand, You both deserve love and happiness no matter who it comes from..

"Thank you Stiles. Thank you." Derek knew somehow in his soul, that was Stiles showing his love for him, without saying. Words took courage, and that wasn't easily found in front of others. "Open yours. The bottom one. Please."

Stiles did as he asked, opening the bottom one, a square shaped box. He opened it to see a copy of a building deed sitting in tissue paper. "Der-Derek. You didn't...Not the-" Stiles' voice broke. He scent blooming with tears and pleasure.

"That place on Pine you've been dreaming about for two months? Why, yes it is." Derek tried to play it off as funny.

"This isn't funny. I told you I didn't want you help." Stiles tried to sound stern. Derek only shook his head.

"I told you to let me help. I did. Also it is technically half mine. But you have a place now. You can actually do it." Derek said. The pack made noises of confusion.

"I am not going to university. I am doing online classes but I am opening a magic shop and taking over for Deaton and becoming Hale Pack Emissary. Derek just bought my dream location." Stiles announced to cheers from the pack. Stiles knew in that moment that is how it felt knowing someone loved you enough to give you want you needed not just what you wanted. He knew how it felt to know someone loved him enough to stand with him not out of obligation but actual love and desire to do so.

They opened the other presents with similar reactions.

"A greenhouse? Seriously? and a workshop?" Stiles was dumbfounded.

"You named a literal star after my mother. A. Star." Derek was flabbergasted.

The rest of the pack sensed it was time to leave, the two men had a lot to discuss-least of all their emotions. The pack began piling out trying not to overhear the conversation.

"Derek, I can't accept this. I really can't. It may be all I ever wanted but I can't let you give it to me. We talked about this, I am filling in. If I was meant to be this important, we'd be mates." Stiles said.

"You aren't a fill in. Do you think I would give you up for someone I don't know? I would never. No relationship will ever be more important than our to me. You say this is all you ever wanted? You can have it!" Derek said.

"This isn't something I can take, you may change your mind, or find someone better. This is something to dream and hope for. Let me dream and hope, so I don't get hurt." Stiles sounded sad and broken. Derek made a soft wounded noise.

"You are it for me. I built you a goddamn house Stiles. I tore down my last memory of my family for you. We have almost died for each other too many times to count for you to back out now." Derek said. Stile growled and shuffled trying to think of an argument. He was saved by his dad coming down the road in a hurry. The pack was spilled on the porch trying to look like they hadn't been listening.

"Scott, where is Stiles?" John called. Stiles and Derek came out at the sound of his voice. "Mieczyslaw Stilinski! You were supposed to by home an hour ago! We have family coming in today remember!" John yelled, standing against his open car door.

"I'll be right there!" Stiles blanched. "I can't believe I forgot." He turned to Derek. "We aren't done here, mister."

"Your first name is really Mieczyslaw?" Derek asked. He didn't want Stiles leaving while angry, it made it anxious.

"Yep! Mieczyslaw Stilinski. Please to meet you Derek Hale!" Stiles understood what Derek was going for without him saying like most times.

"Please to meet you too." Derek chuckled before a sharp pain brought him and Stiles to their knees.

Several painful minutes later, Stiles was laughing hard enough he had tears streaming down his face. He left hand was clamped over his shirt collar, knuckles white. Derek stared openmouthed. John and the rest of the pack stood confused and worried.

"Did what I think happen just actually happen?" Scott asked.

"We'd never been formally introduced. Definitely not with my first name. Mate-Marks only form when properly introduced." Stiles moved his hand to show the large wolf print marking his upper chest and collarbone.

Derek laughed. and laughed and laughed before swooping down and pressing a slightly desperate kiss onto Stiles' lips. "Guess we won't have to discuss the shopfront or greenhouse later, mate." Derek grinned goofily at Stiles who could help but smile back just as dopey.

"Guess not" Stiles said. "I guess not."

Both of them could feel the calmness and happiness in their souls for finding their mates. Derek's wolf stopped shifting anxiously as it had been for months, finally calming down for Derek to relax. Both of them filled to the brim: safe, mate, mine, forever.

#negativenorth #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

[saundraswriting]

This is Our Last (First) Christmas

SUMMARY:  At the end of a terrible sophomore year, Stiles decided with Deaton to use his spark and cleanse the Hale Territory, including Beacon Hills. With the Ley lines re-awakened properly, Beacon Hills earned its name. Junior year is better only because they face it with more preparation than the year previous. Stiles still feels that pack is missing something, the summer brings the pack closer than ever, including Stiles and Derek. Senior year starts and with it emotions run high for multiple reasons. Christmas comes and with it, Stiles is growing more and more distant, until one argument between him and Derek changes the dynamic forever.

WARNINGS: None (I think)

NOTES: This is my gift for @negativenorth. I wrote this for @stereksecretsanta this year. This is my first time doing this kind of gift exchange. I also did another one this year. 

MASTERLIST // Ao3

The Hale Pack survived junior year. Miraculously. The troubles that surrounded them sophomore year brought on by their sacrifices to find their parents were increased by the cleansing ritual in the spring Stiles and Deaton did. It cleansed the Hale Territory-including Beacon Hills and the Preserve-The Pack, the air, the ground, even the humans of all the remaining darkness; reawakening the hibernating Ley Lines and brightening the light of Beacon Hills.

The summer was strangely terror-less. Deaton explained the cleansing happened like and earthquake, the energy radiating out and it would take some time until the epicenter was found but once things found it, everyone would tune into it. The Hale Territory was highly desired by many supernaturals for many reasons. Derek (under the advisement of Stiles) began a training regiment for the pack, humans included. Derek focused more on the wolves-Scott, Jackson, Danny, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Ethan and Aiden-who deflection helped defeat the Alpha pack and Derek welcomed in with open arms. The humans trained too, but with Melissa on first aid and field trauma medicine and Chris and John with hand to hand and gun and knife combat training. Stiles had added training with Deaton on magic. Eventually, The wolves joined the humans.

"Why do we need medical training?" Isaac asked, diligently paying attention to proper stitching technique.

"If something happens, yeah you may heal but that doesn't solve blood loss. Or if a human is out. Or you needed to be inconspicuous about lycanthropy. Technically you don't exist." Stiles said. "Or a broken bone that heals wrong."

"He's not wrong. I agree." Derek chimed in.

"You're only agreeing because-"Erica was cut off by a hard nudge to the ribs from Allison and a heated glare from Scott. Stiles was confused but let it go, only to silently agree with the Mate-Marks on their right arm-a vine of bright red thorny roses.

"Well, if Mom says and Dad agrees then I guess we have no choice." Jackson sneered. Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me for wanting you to stay alive, dipshit. These aren't bad skills to have in general even. My first aid saved your fucking ass more than once." Stiles practically snarled. This pack was made up of his friends but that didn't mean they were easy to get along with. Jackson opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by Lydia's hand on his arm. Stiles always smiled softly when he got a glimpse of their Mate-Mark behind their ears, the chemical formula C43H66N12O12S2 also known as oxytocin.

A week during the fall of junior year, Stiles felt a chill go down his spine. One of the wards he spent several long days putting up with Deaton's teaching had been triggered. He had put up a dozen or so of varying intent, getting stronger and closer together the closer to Derek's loft they got. Stiles had a list in his journal of placements to recharge them if needed but Deaton had told him with his Spark and use of Ley lines, they will stay charged and operational until removal. Stiles texted to Derek to warn him of the visitor and he with Boyd checked it out.

That was the first of almost weekly trespassers of the creatures-that-go-bump-in-the-night variety. The pack had their training, their strength, their determination to survive but they didn't have their teamwork, their trust, their knowledge to win. Stiles and Lydia and occasionally Allison worked to compile as much information as possible from Deaton and Chris and Derek and independent research as possible. The Pack grew smart but they still couldn't click, they used too much brawn not enough brain.

"You would think, with werewolves needing packs, they would innately understand teamwork." Stiles said. He was at the Argent's house looking at few of Chris's books. He had become more helpful since Allison and Scott finally told him the truth about their Mate-Marks. He didn't like it but he know helped as much as he could knowing that was the only way to get his daughter safe.

"You have to remember Stiles, they may be werewolves now but they are teenagers first. High schoolers. Derek isn't that much older than you all. You somehow see the bigger picture but they can't." Chris said.

"I have always had to see the big picture. No one else was looking at it at the beginning. I was trying to keep everyone alive, not just-"Stiles cut himself off. "You are so right. You always have the best ideas." Stiles sagged a little with relief. He was glad he'd been able to convince Chris to help them, join them. "I have to go." Stiles left the kitchen, uncharacteristically leaving the books scattered on the table. He hopped into his jeep and headed straight to Derek's loft.

"Derek, are you home?" Stiles opened the door to the loft with the only spare key Derek ever made.

"Hey, Stiles. Surprise seeing you here, everything okay?" Derek popped out from the kitchen. "I am making dinner, care to join me?"

"Oh, that would be nice. Everything is okay, I just have something to talk to you about." Stiles sat at the island rubbing a thumb against the glass Derek handed him and the other rubbed the spot behind his ear.

"Okay. If you are this serious then it probably has some merit." Derek said. Stiles felt proud of the growth Derek had gone through. He had become a better man and Alpha since the pack had grown and settled and he was able to grieve properly. Stiles, however was confused at his statement. Derek looked up to see Stiles looking back with his head tilted and eyes narrowed. "You have tells just like the rest of us. You may know all of ours but you don't know your own. You have gotten good at lying to us weres but you forget that some of us? We know you. Like me, you rub behind your ear when you are thinking about something and it may upset the balance of things." Derek explained. Stiles didn't know how to answer, wasn't sure what to say, Derek studied him? It made sense in Stiles' head, at the beginning Derek needed to know everyone's angle even his.

"I didn't know that." Stiles said. He decided to ignore the other parts Derek said until later. "I know as a pack we have strengths and weaknesses. We need to work on those weaknesses, our biggest one? Teamwork. This pack is holding the strongest territory in the Northwest right now, and it is made up of young werewolves and several humans and a Banshee who all happen to be teenagers in high school. We had a social hierarchy and it worked until you bit several of them. Now they have to relearn that, everything is discombobulated causing tensions, and second-guessing and we may have survived until now but eventually that won't be enough. We may be a pack but we won't be a family until that happens." Stiles paused realizing how that sounds. "Not that I want to replace yours. I just want-I don't mean to-I get it. I don't want you to be alone anymore." Stiles finally spit out.

"I know what you mean. I would never think that you of all people are trying to somehow push away my family. You have too much resect for others to even think that." Derek said. His face was relaxed and open, the skin around his eyes wasn't even tight. You probably love hearing this from me, even though I say it a lot. You are right. We don't know each other well enough to know what we'd risk for each other. So what is your idea?" Derek turned back to the stove.

"What makes you think I have an idea?" Stiles asked. Derek just threw a look over his shoulder at the young man.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't have an idea." Derek said.

"I was thinking of having the pack rebuild your house. It would give them a safe common goal and outlet. It would reestablish your territory ad strength pack bonds and the bond with the land. it would give us a den. I know I just said I don't want to replace your family. And that is true. I don't want to because I know I can't. I can however make the pain less, the burden lighter and you happier. We can do this together Derek. Me and you. like always.

"I. I will think about it." Derek said very slowly. Stiles nodded. Derek said nothing else, instead finished up dinner and Stiles took it as a sign to get place settings ready and switch to lighter topics.

The winter of junior year was made up of blood, sweat, tears, anger, resentment, claws, teeth, bullets, arrows. The pack was surviving, but barely. Stiles could see the fault lines forming, the glares more frequent. He never pushed Derek, only waited and hoped. He knew that the Hale Pack had the potential to be amazing once again, but only if they worked for it.

The spring of junior year bloomed with hope, filled with finals college preparation and a wendigo or two. March came and went but April came in like a lion. Derek had made his decision, rebuilding the Hale Manor is needed and would do them some good. The pack had too many issues amongst themselves to work through, if they didn't settle as a whole and members of that whole, then more people would die and the pack would fall apart. Derek's decision came instinctively, The young betas had been arguing over who was to land the first hit, the baddy of the week threw Erica into a tree skewering her on a branch. Derek saw it happen in slow motion, anger thrumming in his veins. That second she impacted the tree Derek knew. He would make a pack out of these teenagers or die trying. They needed the pack as much as he did.

Derek stood over his pack watching them cuddle each other from a distance. They were on the floor of the loft spread out, but unable to ignore the need to touch. Lydia had a leg curled with Allison, tucked under Jackson arm. Isaac bridged the space between Erica and Boyd and Scott and Allison. Stiles was sitting at the island still working. Always working. Derek had actively tried to not look at Stiles, the few glances he allowed had the same results, heart pounding breath catching results. Stiles had showered and was wearing a pair of sweats he'd left here some day and a shirt of Derek's, who's scent of pine and leather mixed deliciously with Stiles' own scent of lemon and honeysuckle. Derek was glad the rest of the pack was sleeping, unable to witness him softening. Stiles was the only one to bring it out. He sat down next to Stiles, pulling his feet into his lap, rubbing lightly.

"I've been thinking...about what you said a while back." Derek couldn't look at Stiles. He instead focused on his feet. "About rebuilding."

"Oh? Did you come to a decision then?" Stiles kept his face turned to the books in front of him, side-eyeing Derek. He knew that staring would only cause Derek to shut down harder. Stiles could feel his heart pounding, knew Derek could hear it but tried to project calmness.

"Yeah. I did. I want to do it. I need to do it. The last step of grieving and the first step of acceptance. This pack needs a fresh start. You are right, like always. I only want to do this if you help me every step of the way. I can't do this by myself. I don't trust anyone else to help." Derek admitted. Stiles beamed. The absolute joy and pride on his face made Derek almost forget that he had just agreed to tear down the last standing reminder of his family.

As if Stiles could read his mind, "They'd want you to be happy. I would be honored to help you.”

The decision to rebuild the house triggered something in Stiles. He began working with Deaton, honing his sputtering spark into a full-fledged flame. Deaton was impressed with his strength, commenting the flame was more like an inferno. Stiles did his school work on top of learning magic and keeping a pack of rag-tag teenagers alive. Deaton explained that Sparks were common but without proper training burned out, with proper training Sparks became witches or varied magic users, they often became emissaries to those in need or ran shops. The idea of being a pack emissary resonated with Stiles and that became his goal. He learned moon phases, herbs, spells, enchantments, crystals, sigils, runes, ancient languages. As he learned, he wasn't the only one to grow emotionally. The pack began to pull down the old Hale Manor. Piece by piece, they pulled it down. The beginning was hard-insult were thrown without care for where they landed, more than one fight broke out usually but they worked together and talked and learned about each other. The insults lost their thorns, the glares lost their heat and the smiles lost their fangs.

During the days between the too-hot spring days and the too-cold summer days, the last dumpster full of the remains of the Hale Manor vanished down the road. Derek watched feeling numb. Stiles stood by in quiet solidarity. All that was left was the scorched earth and a smattering of rubble, the grass was stained gray from ash and fire, the foundation crumbling into itself. There would be a specialist coming to demolish and redo the foundation, that was something Derek requested. The two men looked at the now empty clearing, Stiles pretended not to notice the trembling of Derek's fingers. Stiles simply took his hand in his and pulled him down to sit, letting Derek lean against him and grieve.

"No one likes it when strangers speak for those who you have lost. I know I hated it. I also know what it is like to an extent." Stiles paused. "They would be proud of you. You were in a down really low, and you brought yourself back. You did it." Stiles pressed himself into Derek's bulk.

Thanks. It has meaning coming from you. I know you understand. You know loss, not like Scott. You don't pretend to be unaffected like Jackson." Derek sat for a bit, letting the Stiles' strength soak into his bones. He wasn't alone anymore. He could do this. He wasn't 16 again pushing away Laura in a fit of survivor's guilt. He had Stiles. He had his pack. "Now what?" Derek turned to face Stiles, looking like as lost as a child after a nightmare.

"Now we build your house. Together." Stiles said. "And watch YouTube. Lots of it."

The summer between junior and senior year was the best Stiles had in a long time. He and his mother always had adventures and busy days. Then one year it was just him and Scott. It was only the two of them for years, neither popular enough for summer plans. The others in the pack in similar circumstances. Allison didn't stay around long enough to make plans and Lydia and Jackson's families made plans without consent. Stiles and Derek read and watched and googled for hours before getting the materials. The did it step by step from framing to electric to plumbing to hanging drywall to building stairs to putting in windows. Derek bought the supplies, secretly pleased that the insurance, investment, assess money was getting some use, not just growing interest, coming into several millions of dollars was daunting without a purpose especially when part of the blame fell on his shoulders. With every step of the way, Stiles and Derek worked together to make the idea into a house into a home. Stiles layered charms and spells and enchantments and runes and straight ingredients into everything. Protection from water, fire, illness, bad luck, ill-intent, accidents, death, and anything Stiles could think of was woven into every step, from the frame to the paint. The house was built by Stiles and Derek for the pack, for the future, for each other.

"Derek, we need a bigger kitchen. And I think a mudroom will be a good investment with a lever handle door. We have a nice entrance way, where people came come in and hang up their jackets and put away shoes but the back entrance doesn't have anything." Stiles was looking over the blueprints with Derek. He was making notes for when they finalized some decisions.

"Why?" Derek asked.

"You will be housing a pack of teenage/twentysomething werewolves. You need a big enough kitchen and matching pantry to feed a small country." Stiles said, still scribbling notes.

"No." Derek growled. He was running out of patience. He wanted to make this house with Stiles but everyone seemed to have an opinion on something. Which would be fine it he had asked, or if there was some logic but the majority was just annoying.

"You don't want a big kitchen? I mean it is your house." Stiles looked confused but his voice seemed blank, undermined by his pounding heart and cold brittle scent of sadness.

Derek wanted to growl but held back. Derek didn't want to push him away. Derek liked how close they had been getting, his wolf was pleased as well. His wolf had been unusually attached to the young man since the beginning and was originally satisfied but as time went on both Derek and his wolf wanted more and more, not sure what they were asking for. The concern for Stiles' wellbeing, high sensitivity to Stiles' emotion and heartbeat, The willingness to entertain Stiles' commentary and personality and enjoy it, his gaze lingering on Stile' fingers and throat, reveling in the challenges he offered all resonated with Derek as signs pointing to Stiles being his mate but if that was true they would have Mate-Marks.

"It is our house." Derek said. It was all he could give right now, a house where Stiles could be relaxed and happy, Derek would have to accept what he had for right now.

"So, yes big kitchen?" Stiles looked up, Derek just stared back waiting. "Oh! The lever handle is so you can open it with paws."

That is humiliating. And smart. Make it so."

"You did not just make a Star Trek: The Next Generation reference. Are you a closeted nerd?" Stiles poked Derek in the ribs, peering at him suspiciously. Derek stayed silent, glad Stiles couldn't hear his pounding heart. Stiles laughed, head tilted back, cheeks crinkled and mouth open. Derek could only stare and memorize the moment, proud he got Stiles to laugh that easily. Derek could hear the thoughts in his soul: mine, claim, mate. The possessiveness and softness was happening more and more but only around Stiles, further adding to the mate checklist. Derek just enjoyed the moment.

Come on. Let's finish this. I do eventually want to move in, ya know?" Derek tapped the paper with a single claw, trying to remind Stiles-ineffectually-he could rip his throat out with his teeth.

The weekend before senior year found the pack piled in the living room of the recently finished Hale Manor. The pack was well-protected and well-stablished now with Stiles' magic and the 'den' and the bonds that were solidified over the summer. Deaton said the terrors of the years past will not go away but would drastically slow down. The Hale Territory was claimed and the others would understand innately. The plan worked, the band of high school students thrown together by happenstance became a pack, a family. And it showed, in moment like this. They were tightly woven together on a bed of pillows and blankets with a Disney movie playing softly on TV. Stiles looked on and felt his chest warm and his heart flutter. He pulled out his phone and making sure the shutter and flash were off took a few pictures, trying to shove away the sadness and nostalgia. He had been slightly obsessed with taking photos lately, needing proof that the pack had come together, they now had a home not only physically but in one another too. He had done it, he had somehow kept them alive through all the bullshit. They only had one year left together and he didn't want to look back and regret not capturing the memories or being unable to remember the normal days. One day, a year from now he would look up and realize everyone had scattered like seeds on the wind, he wanted to remember. Stiles got up from the chair he was curled up in, he was feeling melancholy didn't want to ruin the mood. Even Derek was on the edge of the puppy pile. He decided to use his favorite goodbye tactic he borrowed from the Irish.

"I can hear you thinking too hard from over here. Come join us. Get comfy. And we can talk, I know something is on your mind." Derek ungracefully shoved the others to make room. It isn't pack night if one person leaves."

Fine." Stiles was a sucker for the pack card. He knew he was pack but not being a wolf meant he couldn't feel the bonds as strongly as the others so he needed reminded sometimes. Stiles slipped in between Derek and the pack, thoughts like: safe, pack, mate, mine. After a few seconds Derek pinched him lightly. "I just don't know hat I am to do next. I did what I was supposed to do. I kept Scott alive, I helped you, I healed the land, solidified the pack. My job is done. This time next year, the pack might be tossed across the country and then what? We come back for weekend and holidays? For how long? Then we just fall apart and I never have this again? I made this family just like each of them did. I can't lose another one." Stiles felt his stomach drop at the cold, bitter, sharp feeling his own words gave him.

"That isn't how this works. A pack this established only gets stronger. No one gets out. There may be distance but not much and not for long. We are too new of a pack for that. You certainly don't get to leave, you are my emissary. You are connected to me and the pack and the land. Don't force ties to break when you don't know the future. There is time, there are options. Enjoy now, before fretting about the future. Talk to them, You'd be surprised to hear you aren't as alone as you think." Derek pulled Stiles closer, tucking him tightly into his embrace. "That is why you get sad after taking photos. You think old memories are all you will have left."

"I would rather leave then be left. I have grow weary of being left." Stiles tried to shrug.

"Don't look too far ahead, you'll miss the now. Make memories to enjoy the moment not resign yourself to only having memories." Derek said. Stiles nodded and snuggled closer, Derek's body heat and voice rumbling in his chest soothing his anxiety. "Go to sleep, Stiles. I'll be right here."

Fall of senior year was calm, content. Stiles and Lydia and Danny were in a heated competition for valedictorian, a contest that was a secret to everyone in school but no one in the pack. Some filled out college applications like Danny, Jackson, Lydia. Some decided to go the technical route like Erica, Boyd. Isaac and Scott were looking at community college. Stiles adopted a forget about it and it doesn't exist attitude. He often pulled out pamphlets or packets only to sort them into piles and then put them away again. He changed the subject when asked about anything dealing with after senior year. The closest he got to talking about it was with Derek one day, by themselves hanging out on a Friday night. He told Derek, he liked magic and the supernatural and being a witch, he might open a shop, take over for Deaton who wanted to be a vet and only a vet. That was the last time he seriously spoke about it. The pack spent full moons together, running and eating dinner and then a sleepover. Slowly each pack member added their own things to the house, a blanket here, a favorite mug there, A sweatshirt draped over a chair, a forgotten pair of shoes left by the front door. Stiles took pictures and cleaned and tutored. He talked a lot without saying much. Derek knew something was on his mind.

"I want you to come over tonight. I told everyone to stay away. We have some things to talk about." Derek texted him one day in October.

Stiles went over, slouched over like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Derek felt sympathy for the kid.

"Stiles, I know you have been struggling a bit. Understandably so. A lot has happened these past few years. I want you to sit here with me, all night if we have to, and talk over your options. I want you to do what you want to do. I know your dad wants you to go to college and I know you want to open a shop. I think you can do both, and with the way the world works, I think you could make it work. I would gladly help, we can build you a small shop here or something." Derek said. Stiles sagged, eyes lit with relief.

"You don't think it is a dumb idea? Magic isn't well known, and I won't be successful." Stiles said.

"You are right, But people from all over will come if you are good. You will gain a following. I believe you would be a great successor to Alan, if you so choose. I will gladly help you get to that point." Derek said.

"What? I don't even know what I am doing." Stiles rubbed his face. "I can't let you...support me while I decide what I want to do."

"You are running out of time. You didn't hold me up in a pool for two hours for me for me to not learn what kind of person you are. You already made up your mind. You have helped me over and over and over again. Let me help you!" Derek demanded. Stiles threw up his hands, groaning loudly.

"What do you want me to say? That I want to learn all that I can to help you be the best alpha you can be? of the best pack we can be? And if I help other people with things around town or even farther, that would be perfection? That I have no idea what I want to do, but I can't see myself going to university and getting a typical 9-5 job and having 2.5 kids? That you coming in all dark and broody ruined me for all normalcy." Stiles ranted. He was gesturing wildly, pacing in short burst.

"Yeah. That is all I want. Feel better?" Derek, pulled Stiles close, rubbing his nose into his hair. Stiles leaned against him, this time borrowing strength.

"A little. I am glad I finally got to say it aloud. now I have to convince my dad." Stiles said. Derek squeezed him in a side hug.

"We have to convince your dad. You aren't alone, I'm not going anywhere, ever, We're a team." Stiles smiled softly and nodded, relaxing into Derek's grip.

The days and nights grew colder, the wolves handing full moon runs when the humans got the food, hot chocolate and movies ready for their return. Or rather Stiles did, the others just laid about, studying or figuring out how to move into Derek's house without their families noticing. November was quickly finishing and Stiles' favorite time of year was approaching. He had already pulled out the containers of decorations for his own house, trying to figure out how to bring it up to Derek. He wanted to have a pack Christmas, wanted to go out and pick out a tree together, and hang the garlands and argue over where the lights go on the tree, hang up ornaments and behind everyone's back rearrange them. He wanted to get presents for everyone, wrapping them with paper and ribbons and bows.

"Stiles, is something burning?" Scott said coming into the kitchen, kissing Allison on the temple. The other Mates sharing in similar displays of affection. Jackson and Lydia cuddling on a large chair, Erica and Boyd sharing a chaste kiss. Derek walked up to Stiles simultaneously pulling the pan of bacon off the stove and trailing a hand down his jaw to latch into his hair.

"Shit! The bacon. I was distracted. Sorry. It should be fine, I am mixing it to make perogies for you tomorrow. Its Sunday after all." Stiles said softly. He still looked a million miles away, Derek pulled him around ducking slightly to make eye contact.

"Stiles, is something the matter? Are you okay?" Derek asked. After they talked about Stiles' future Stiles had been coming to Derek more and more for support. Derek was more vocal with his thoughts, trying to verbalize emotions. The pack was close, a family but only because the two of them were a solid unit. They knew each other in and out.

Stiles looked nervous, like he didn't know how to ask. Derek just raised an eyebrow. "I want to decorate for Christmas. Here. I want to go and pick out directions and a tree and argue over lights and rearrange the ornaments when no one is looking. I want to agonize for days over the prefect presents. I want to do that, if you are okay with that." Stiles said, in a round of word vomit.

"Okay. I want that too, I was going to ask soon, you just beat me to the punch. How about we pick a day after Thanksgiving to pick out a tree and maybe you can come with me a few days to pick out Christmas decorations, without the children." Derek huffed a laugh into Stiles' temple. "This is your house too, You'll be here just as much as I will be. I want you to do what makes you happy."

"Okay. I'd like that. We can talk about it more later. Let's eat and then tomorrow we can look at some ideas, I want you to be the end all, end all on decisions." Stiles beamed at Derek. He went back to making dinner, leaving the slightly burnt bacon cool off to the side.

Thanksgiving was spent with their families, Derek did join the Stilinksi and McCalll's and Isaac for the big meal, finalizing plans with Stiles on decorations and tree-hunting. They decided on a red, green, gold scheme and more traditional type decorations, simple and minimalistic. Stiles used his internet skills to get some deals on older decorations on craigslist and facebook. They had a few pick-ups scheduled and the time for tree-hunting at a local Christmas tree farm. Derek's only request was it had to be a big tree.

The pack three days later met up and began discussing trees. They were all in agreement, for a tall bushy tree but they couldn't pick a species until an employee showed them the examples and explained the difference. Three hours later and they finally agreed on the perfect tree and were on the way to the house. Stiles made them help him put it up right away so it warms up and the branches drop. The pack then scatters and Stiles and Derek head out and got decorations.

Derek watched Stiles spend the next few days putting the inside decorations in places. Derek helping with a comment here or there, but staying quiet, enjoying having someone to share the holiday with. "Thank you Stiles. I am glad, even though we've been through some shit together, that I have met you. I found myself because of you. I am glad that you are happy here with me." Derek told him.

"Me too. I feel safe here with you. Like I belong here, with you." Stiles said. "I know that wolves have mates obviously when they get introduced to each other, but sometimes when I am with you...you look at me and see me and I feel you..." Stiles shook his head.

"I do too. I am more attuned to you and your scent and heart than anyone in the pack. I can only chalk it up to you doing what would be my mate's job if I had one. I am not sure Stiles but I am not mad about it. Maybe after the holidays we can figure it out." Derek said.

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan." Stiles agreed.

The almost confessions triggered something, Derek became more tactile and protective than ever towards Stiles, Stiles made sure the betas were fed and the house was clean and tutored when needed and gave advice. They had been a unit before but now, Stiles and Derek were barely apart, only for school hours. Stiles' dad at one point asked if he was moving in and Stiles took that as permission and did just that (practically) moved in and also used the opportunity to tell John about his post-school plans. John was hesitant and needed some time to think it over before he could agree and support his son. Stiles did as promised and agonized for days what to get each of his friends. He meticulously wrapped each and every one of them. The one that took the longest to put together was the most important.

Stiles had learned many things over the last two and half years, about the world, himself, his hometown, his local vet. One of those things was his most important secret-he had been in love with Derek Hale for two of those years. It wasn't anything grand or extreme, one day Stiles saw him smile at a joke and decided he needed to do that all the time. Stiles knew that Derek needed somebody in his corner and chose to be that person. He didn't know spending all that time with his dry humor and caring nature and supportive personality would result with him falling in love with the older man but he wouldn't change anything that happened for anything in the world. 'except getting his real family back.' Stiles thought. 'That is it! A photo album. The Hales are a very old and well known family, there should be some photographs floating around.'

Stiles got to work. He went to the library and school paper archives, pulling out back issues of newspapers and yearbooks. He called into several nearby packs, opening the Hale pack up to negotiations in the future and even searched through Beacon Hills residents photos to find any and all of the Hale family memories. He also searched the star registry for a bright one towards the north and named it Talia Hale, so Derek would be able to find a guiding light for the rest of his life.

Stiles spent days putting the album together, finding near 75 photos and newspaper clippings for it. He also framed the star certificate and got a observatory to take very good photos of the star. and framed those as well. He was so focused Stiles forgot that his dad told him family was coming over. He obsessed over ever little detail for his present.

Derek did not fare much better. He had decided on a two part present for Stiles as well. One was a greenhouse/workshop Derek was having built for Stiles and a small business front to turn into a shop. Derek bought the shop and added Sties name to the deed so it was legally his. The greenhouse was going to be built in the spring so it could be used over the summer. Derek knew it might be too much for a friend but Stiles saved his life. Without Stiles, Derek would be alone and devastated and family-less. He fell in love with the whiskey eyes and contagious laughter and selflessness and love and compassion. They may not be Mates but Derek wanted no one else with him in the future, not only as a pack member or an emissary but even more than that. Derek kept his feelings a secret not wanting to push Stiles away.

The 23rd of December was the pack Christmas day. They had a wonderful breakfast and were in their PJ's getting settled and waiting for everyone. Everyone go a seat and the presents were sorted. They went in a circle.

"Derek, can you open my last? I...um..." Stiles said. Derek nodded not commenting on the obvious nerves.

"Only if you open mine last too." Derek said. Stiles nodded smiling gratefully. They went around and opened presents; clothes and make up and a few books for the girls, the boys got video games and comics and clothes. Honestly it was a good first Christmas as friends.

all that was left was Derek's present from Stiles and vice versa. The pack watched in silence. Neither moved.

"Please go first." Stiles pleaded. Derek looked between the presents left on his lap and Stiles. Derek picked up what Stiles knew to be the album. Derek gently pulled the paper off pausing in confusion. He looked up at Stiles again who waved at him to continue. He opened the book, the front page being a family picture of the Hales for the work Talia did to create the preserve.

"Stiles, is this..."Derek couldn't finish.

"Yeah It is. A Hale Pack photo album. Took me a while to make it. Think it was an idea even before I knew it." Stiles explained. Derek thought of the all the photos Stiles had taken recently and flipped to the back pages, glossy photos of his current family lined the pages. The last phot was a picture of him and Stiles cuddling on a pack night, the note below was in Allison hand, You both deserve love and happiness no matter who it comes from..

"Thank you Stiles. Thank you." Derek knew somehow in his soul, that was Stiles showing his love for him, without saying. Words took courage, and that wasn't easily found in front of others. "Open yours. The bottom one. Please."

Stiles did as he asked, opening the bottom one, a square shaped box. He opened it to see a copy of a building deed sitting in tissue paper. "Der-Derek. You didn't...Not the-" Stiles' voice broke. He scent blooming with tears and pleasure.

"That place on Pine you've been dreaming about for two months? Why, yes it is." Derek tried to play it off as funny.

"This isn't funny. I told you I didn't want you help." Stiles tried to sound stern. Derek only shook his head.

"I told you to let me help. I did. Also it is technically half mine. But you have a place now. You can actually do it." Derek said. The pack made noises of confusion.

"I am not going to university. I am doing online classes but I am opening a magic shop and taking over for Deaton and becoming Hale Pack Emissary. Derek just bought my dream location." Stiles announced to cheers from the pack. Stiles knew in that moment that is how it felt knowing someone loved you enough to give you want you needed not just what you wanted. He knew how it felt to know someone loved him enough to stand with him not out of obligation but actual love and desire to do so.

They opened the other presents with similar reactions.

"A greenhouse? Seriously? and a workshop?" Stiles was dumbfounded.

"You named a literal star after my mother. A. Star." Derek was flabbergasted.

The rest of the pack sensed it was time to leave, the two men had a lot to discuss-least of all their emotions. The pack began piling out trying not to overhear the conversation.

"Derek, I can't accept this. I really can't. It may be all I ever wanted but I can't let you give it to me. We talked about this, I am filling in. If I was meant to be this important, we'd be mates." Stiles said.

"You aren't a fill in. Do you think I would give you up for someone I don't know? I would never. No relationship will ever be more important than our to me. You say this is all you ever wanted? You can have it!" Derek said.

"This isn't something I can take, you may change your mind, or find someone better. This is something to dream and hope for. Let me dream and hope, so I don't get hurt." Stiles sounded sad and broken. Derek made a soft wounded noise.

"You are it for me. I built you a goddamn house Stiles. I tore down my last memory of my family for you. We have almost died for each other too many times to count for you to back out now." Derek said. Stile growled and shuffled trying to think of an argument. He was saved by his dad coming down the road in a hurry. The pack was spilled on the porch trying to look like they hadn't been listening.

"Scott, where is Stiles?" John called. Stiles and Derek came out at the sound of his voice. "Mieczyslaw Stilinski! You were supposed to by home an hour ago! We have family coming in today remember!" John yelled, standing against his open car door.

"I'll be right there!" Stiles blanched. "I can't believe I forgot." He turned to Derek. "We aren't done here, mister."

"Your first name is really Mieczyslaw?" Derek asked. He didn't want Stiles leaving while angry, it made it anxious.

"Yep! Mieczyslaw Stilinski. Please to meet you Derek Hale!" Stiles understood what Derek was going for without him saying like most times.

"Please to meet you too." Derek chuckled before a sharp pain brought him and Stiles to their knees.

Several painful minutes later, Stiles was laughing hard enough he had tears streaming down his face. He left hand was clamped over his shirt collar, knuckles white. Derek stared openmouthed. John and the rest of the pack stood confused and worried.

"Did what I think happen just actually happen?" Scott asked.

"We'd never been formally introduced. Definitely not with my first name. Mate-Marks only form when properly introduced." Stiles moved his hand to show the large wolf print marking his upper chest and collarbone.

Derek laughed. and laughed and laughed before swooping down and pressing a slightly desperate kiss onto Stiles' lips. "Guess we won't have to discuss the shopfront or greenhouse later, mate." Derek grinned goofily at Stiles who could help but smile back just as dopey.

"Guess not" Stiles said. "I guess not."

Both of them could feel the calmness and happiness in their souls for finding their mates. Derek's wolf stopped shifting anxiously as it had been for months, finally calming down for Derek to relax. Both of them filled to the brim: safe, mate, mine, forever.

#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale x stiles stilinski #Sterek as mates #family as pack #hale pack #alpha derek hale x stiles

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