#put her paw down and confront him about how he’s been acting and refuse to just keep letting him talk over and supersede her

[waywardsalt]

tbh i think the biggest issues(s) with this one are partially the chapters from stick’s pov, they’re a little unnecessary when things could have been kept vague for longer, with things instead revealed to leafstar and a lot more focus instead left on skyclan (tbh the whole thing with stick and co. isnt really bad it just takes up a little too much time with the stick pov) but on the other hand the shit with sharpclaw is baffling in how there is basically no consequences for him undermining and talking over leafstar and doing major shit with his clanmates without telling her, it practically feels like the whole book is building up to leafstar inevitably (and rightfully?) confronting him about his behavior but the book just brushes it off and was like oh its fine as if he wasnt repeatedly ignoring and talking over his own leader as if he was already leader (which reads as sinister since in firestars quests its made very obvious that he really really wanted to be leader????) like god he borders on antagonistic and nothing comes of it in any satisfying way

reached skyclan’s destiny in my warrior cats reread let’s see to what extent i really enjoy and put up with just reading about clan minutiae

[morwensteelsheen]

for the character meme: faramir and cassian

yaaaaaaas thank u 👑👑👑

Faramir

How I feel about this character

Oh boy. Yeah. So I see in Faramir what I wish I were — not just the good stuff like the pacificism and the intellectualism and the romanticism, but what I wish my flaws were too. It’s hard to not treat him as something of a literary patron saint of historians for all the incredible exposition work he’s given throughout the books, y’know? Like he has this incredibly historically-minded perspective on things, yet instead of taking it and behaving (as I tend to) in a sort of deeply pessimistic, confrontational, and defeatist way, he uses it to enable his (over)confidence. And I think that’s really brilliant and something I wish I could do. Yeah. God. I feel a lot of things about Faramir all the time, constantly torn between gender envy for him and normal, slightly furious envy lmao.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

lol whoops it’s just Éowyn lol. I am very much pro he and Aragorn shagging, if I don’t think too hard about it, but there are basically no other characters in the book who have forceful enough personalities to act as a countervailing force to some of his, uhhhh, Extremes, and I think Éowyn ends up being his [David Duchovny voice] human credential, which is lovely.

I guess I’m also partial to the Faramir-As-A-Sloppy-Bitch hypothesis which has him behaving like a bit of a fuckboy, but that’s not really shipping so much as character development? I guess?

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I’m buying him one of those awful one man wolfpack tshirts lmao, my dude absolutely does not have pals. I think he’s got loads of decent working relationships with people and is definitely charismatic when he wants to be, but outwith that……. lol

My unpopular opinion about this character

looooooool, I feel like the Faramir Is Not A Crybaby one is well trodden ground at this point, but one of my favourite unpopular opinions is that I think he’s, like, 15% more cynical than everybody gives him credit for. I think a lot of what he does can be construed as very obviously, uhhh, putting the moves on, I guess? Like I think he’s not making grand statements to Éowyn because he’s Magically Compelled To Do It, but because I think he absolutely 100% knows it’s stroking her ego. And I think playing one man good cop/bad cop with Sam and Frodo isn’t him rapidly changing his Take on the situation after getting new information, I think he’s very purposefully trying to unsettle their psychological defences a bit so he can get a better sense for what’s really going on and whether these two guys are going to end up handing Isildur’s Bane™ over to Sauron.

One thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon

Actually nothing super significant. I guess I think the one kid shit is nonsensical. Even without turning on dumb horny shipper brain that says 0% chance he and éowyn weren’t fucking loads, I genuinely refuse to believe that any self-respecting feudal lord would not at least go for the And A Spare, if not And Several Spares, especially if you’re Faramir and your entire family got obliterated leaving you — Man Who Was Not Meant To Hold The House Down — the sole survivor.

Beyond that Faramir gets exactly what he ought to out of LOTR (though I would have loved to have read about his misery life in the Fourth Age), and I can’t really complain? Maybe a line or two at the trothplighting in Rohan? A chat with Galadriel? idk he really did fine for canon appearances imo

Cassian

How I feel about this character

There’s no way to say this without sounding slightly unhinged, but the scene in R1 where he shoots the injured informant on the Ring of Kafrene is genuinely one of my favourite moments in all of Star Wars. It threw down the gauntlet for visceral depictions of the unfeelingness of the GFFA in a way that hadn’t really been done before. Both the OT and the PT make gestures at it (the destruction of Alderaan is a good example, as is the slightly-bungled slavery subplot in TPM), but neither really show how fucked up people can get when they’re living in a fucked up world and they never show good guys doing things that are of ambiguous morality. Cassian ends up making a (surprisingly, given it’s a Mouse™ production) sophisticated argument for how the Real World works once you get past the golden boy heroes. Yes Luke blows up the Death Star, and yes he brings Vader back to the Light — both things that are unambiguous moral goods — but the reason he’s able to do that is because there’s someone like Cassian out there taking the karmic/emotional/spiritual/whatever hit to enable the Golden Boy behaviour. And I think that’s a really beautiful, really exciting bit of narrative development for SW generally, but to also do it in the context of Cassian — who actively defends his choices? That fucking rocked. I’m bracing for impact with the new show but R1 Cassian is absolutely one of my favourite SW characters, lovely wee man.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Literally just Jyn. Actually funnily enough he’s very much like Faramir to me in that I think if he didn’t end up with Jyn, he wouldn’t have really ended up with anyone at all. Not in a weird comphet or soulmates way, just in that I think sometimes people need a very specific kind of personality to wear down their defences and sometimes it’s a very specific kind of personality.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Okay in a fix-it AU I like to think he and Hera would get along fabbo, but from a great distance, as I think each of them would prefer it. Otherwise, I’m sorry to say it but my guy absolutely does not have pals lmao. Cassian no mates rip

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don’t think he’s actually repentant for the fucked up shit he’s done. When he tells Jyn that he’s had to do stuff he isn’t proud of, he’s not saying that because he’s seeking absolution or a chance to do penance or whatever, he’s saying it because it’s objectively true. He has done some stuff he’s not proud of, but contextually I think it’s pretty clear he’s able to justify it to himself well enough that he’s not looking for redemption or whatever.

One thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon

I feel like I need to whisper this so the monkey’s paw doesn’t curl in advance of the show, but it would be genuinely very interesting to see him try to build an actual espionage network for the Rebellion. SW: Rebels touched on the notion of industrial sabotage (actually Mando did too, didn’t it?) and I think it would be especially interesting to see them try that out in a resistance/rebellion framework via Cassian. Let him do some covert ops organisation of workers to undermine Imperial production/supply lines or whatever.

Give me a character xxoo

[heavymetalover]

Call Me Daddy (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

{i imagined scruffy sojourn michael w this one but i left the description kind of open so yall can imagine whichever teehee}

Summary: Michael is about to become your step dad and the two of you have an unusual relationship…

Warnings: DADDY KINK DUH, smut, dirty talk, fingering, vaginal sex, dom!michael, hickies, rough sex.

WC: 5.5k

A/N: ive done the unforgiven… omg.

this is a different format from my other stuff. i didnt see anyone doing this and yall know me and my daddy issues I HAD TO. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE anon me, message me, whatever, if you want more parts cuz im down.

~~~~

 You had an average run-of-the-mill life with your mom. The two of you lived in a sizable suburban Los Angeles estate; your mom worked for most of her waking hours to keep you comfortable and you worked your ass off to stay in your top college. You had a few friends that would pop into your life when your mom left town, a few boyfriends here and there, even your mom dated around. Everything felt normal until Michael came into the picture.

Your mom has been dating Michael for a few months now, but every time he’s around he brings an eerie feeling along with him. Despite being nearly half her age, he has the soul of somebody from the eighteen hundreds. The way he composes himself, how he speaks with the utmost confidence and how his stares linger too long; his glacial blue eyes always watch you like he can see right through your clothes. 

You’ve been skeptical of him since the day you met him. When you shook his hand and accidentally removed one of his large rings, he nonchalantly told you to keep it. You decided to sell the huge diamond-encrusted Cartier ring and use the twenty thousand dollars to help pay for college.

Since then you’ve avoided the two of them in protest of their relationship. You knew it was juvenile to evade them, but the man turned you on more than you’d like to admit. His soft-waved blonde hair, fluffy lips, jawline for days, prominent cheekbones, and how can you forget the eyes… Everything about him looked planned, like he was designed to be flawless.

On a mundane weekend morning, your mom calls you from downstairs. “Y/n!” her voice echoes through the halls.

You stop reading your favourite book and take out an earbud. “Yeah?!” you yell back, looking up from the pages for a moment and waiting for her to say something else, but the house is silent. You pretend to ignore her call and go back to the story.

“Y/n!” your mom yells again.

You sigh and drop your book, rolling off of your bed and skipping down the stairs to see what fresh hell awaits. As you approach your mom, who’s opening her mouth to call you again, you smell something unusual. Something you haven’t smelt since your dad left. Cologne.

“Honey, he’s here,” your mom whispers to you, putting a hand on your shoulder. You try turning away to run back to your room, but your mom stops you. “Can you be nice for once, please?” she begs, squeezing your shoulder.

“Whatever, let’s get this over with,” you groan and shimmy her hand off of your shoulder.  

Michael works at the dining table, setting up three plates and utensils. You’re planted to the ground in awe, you’ve never had to eat dinner with the two of them before. It crosses your mind that they must be confronting you about bypassing them these past few months, your fight or flight response is already kicking in.

Michael looks up at you, finally acknowledging you and capturing you in his ocean blue eyes with a nanosecond of contact. Your mom moves in between the two of you and takes some food out of a paper bag. “Michael and I wanted all of us to eat dinner together,” she skips to stand beside him. You widen your eyes at her and cross your arms in objection. She widens her eyes back, you can practically hear her nagging you to be polite.

Michael puts his arm around your mom. “Your mother and I thought it best for us to… start acting like a family,” he says.

Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t hold back your smile. “A family?” you laugh. You purse your lips and start walking backwards, aching to escape Michael’s spell. “Mmm, I think I’ll pass,” you turn around to start walking away.

“Y/n,” your mom snaps. You stop in the middle of a step and twist back towards them, taking small, reluctant steps to approach their little function. “We have something to tell you,” she says and immediately after, vaults her hand out to you.

You take it hesitantly and look at her, still trying to figure them out and failing. “What?” you ask.

“No, honey, look at it,” she rolls her eyes, “look at my hand.”

You gawk at her hand, her third finger is dressed in a huge diamond ring. It looks big enough to pay off your whole house. You unintentionally let out a dramatic gasp and drop her hand, she continues to hold it up for you. “It’s the bloodiest diamond he could find in the LA area,” she explains, “We’re in love.” She smiles and places her hand on Michael’s chest, looking up at him with hearts in her eyes. He gifts a small kiss on her lips.

You scoff and shake your head. Any tension that you felt from Michael has dissolved. He’s been dating your mom for five months, five fucking months. Who does he think he is? Are they both nuts? “You’re joking, right?” you ask, completely stunned by how brash the whole situation is. “Are you guys pranking me?”

Michael grins at you, it makes you melt and you hate yourself for it. “Call me daddy,” he sneers.

----

It’s a quaint Wednesday evening when you decide to take a break from studying and grab a snack. You’re scrolling through Tumblr when you walk out of your room and smash your face against a sturdy chest. “Jesus!” you gasp, looking up at Michael standing in front of your door; one of his hands is in a fist, ready to knock on your door, while the other is behind his back. “You scared the shit out of me!” You playfully push his chest away from you, trying to shake off the sudden rush of adrenaline.

He drops his fist as he stumbles back slightly. It’s the first time you’ve talked to him since they announced their engagement. Michael moved in about a month ago and it’s been hard to ignore him since he sits, day in day out, typing away on his laptop in your living room.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “But I have to admit it’s nice to hear your voice again.”

You lean against your doorframe, trying to act casual as if he hadn’t just knocked the wind out of you completely. “Did my mom come home from work or something? She send you here?” you ask, declining his attempts to meet your eyes, instead you stare at his lapel.

“No, I got you something,” he explains, wiggling the surprise behind his back.

“Another Cartier ring?” you joke. “Oh, or is it a new girlfriend? Because that would be even better.” His eyes find the ceiling in annoyance and it feels rewarding, you were starting to think he couldn’t be cracked. “Did you get me an apartment, so I don’t have to live with another failed marriage?”

“No,” he snaps back, starting to sound impatient with your infantile attitude. You straighten up at his belligerent tone. He slides into your room, keeping the gift hidden behind his back. “It’s thoughtful, something I know you’d like, but… if you’re hellbent on loathing my existence, why should I be so kind?” he asks. He somehow manages to speak reserved, yet impossibly intimidating. Every word that leaves his lips demands to be heard, it sends chills down your spine. “Right?” he prompts.

You take in a breath. “Right,” you force yourself to agree, mostly because you’re curious to see what the present is. Another part of you is getting bored of acting like a hermit and going days without social interaction. “Obviously it feels weird; I barely know you and you’re becoming my dad and you moved in, everything just seems so fast,” you explain yourself. You saunter back into your room to meet him. “I’ve been a bitch. I’m sorry, Michael. Seriously.”

He takes a step closer to you, you’re only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his body and fight the urge to wrap your arms around him. “We’ll work on ‘Michael’ later,” he replies. You’re about to question what he means by that when he takes the present out from behind his back. He holds a black bag in between the two of you and you immediately recognize the store. “I heard you on the phone with your friend about something red, lacey, with a bow. I think I found it…”

You take the Victoria’s Secret bag from him without saying a word. You have no words to say. You don’t know if you should thank him or refuse the gift or slap him for listening to your personal conversations. Your mind races wondering if you’d gossiped about his good looks on the phone with your friend.

You silently pry open the bag and paw through the lingerie, mountains of cute panties and bras, digging through things you were never able to afford but always wanted. And, of course, Michael bought the red, lacey one piece you were talking about with your friend. There’s a stillness in the room as you look through the bag. “You bought all of this for me?”

“Yeah, I can’t see how your mom would fit into any of those.”

All of the pieces are just your size, it’s the perfect gift… just not from your stepdad. “How did you even know my size?” you stop looking at the bag and make the mistake of falling into his eyes.

“I went through your clothes,” he carelessly shrugs.

You drop the present by your side. “You went through my clothes, like, my lingerie?”

He slowly nods his head, acting as if it isn’t strange for him to invade your privacy how he did. You huff and he begins looking agitated with you again. “Would you like if I returned all this stuff? I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” you mutter and kick the bag away from him, you’re not jeopardizing this gift with your uncontrollable sass.

“Good,” he spits back.

“Just… don’t think you can just buy yourself into the family,” you mock. You catch yourself subconsciously crossing your arms over your chest to give yourself a breast lift, but you don’t stop.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks. He looks down at your cleavage and it feels like all the air is sucked out of the room. “You have quite the collection of lingerie you keep hidden at the bottom of your drawers,” he observes, “like a dirty guilty pleasure.” You peer up at him, again trying to read him, and again failing. He uses one of his fingers to hook onto the thin fabric of your shirt, your tits are practically pouring out and begging to be the center of attention. He tugs at the fabric, looking under your shirt and inspecting your boobs suffocated in one of your intimate Victoria’s Secret pickups. “Kitten’s all dressed up?” he whispers, his fingertips graze the embroidered details.

You bite your lip, anticipating the second he’ll rip the bra off your chest. “It’s all for you,” you tease, pushing your tits together even more, “I’m always dressed up for you, Michael.”

He breathes in, groaning under his breath. “I thought I told you,” his voice is low and intimidating, “call me daddy.”

You’re drinking in a breath of his cologne, shifting onto the tips of your toes to give his soft lips a rugged kiss, when the sound of keys rattling downstairs takes you out of it. Michael still stares at you, his fingers continue to linger over your clothed tits. “Michael!” your mom calls from downstairs.

You look up at him with fear in your puppy dog eyes and Michael grins. He shoots you one last, knowing, glance before leaving your room. He leaves you without saying two words. “Yeah, babe,” he answers your mom, closing your bedroom door behind him.

What the fuck just happened?

----

Holding back your gags, you grasp your friend’s hair as she projectile vomits peach schnapps into an expensive toilet bowl. Her phone rings in her pocket and you huff, digging through the pockets of the leather jacket you lent her and pulling out a vibrating iPhone. You pick up the phone with an ill “hello”, answering too late and looking down at the screen. She must’ve ordered an Uber a while ago, there’s a ton of notifications that the driver’s outside. “Oh shit,” you mutter under your breath. “Your ride is here!” you yell at her, trying to pull her onto her feet.

“What?!” she yells into the toilet bowl.

You roll your eyes and lean down beside her ear, “I said, your ride is here!” you yell over the thumping music.

Your friend stumbles around, trying to stand up in her six-inch heels. You pull her onto you and her head rests on your shoulder, she goes limp against you. “Stop, come on!” you shout over the music. “You have to g-”

You’re cut off by your friend puking onto an expensive mini dress you bought for tonight’s party. This shindig was supposed to be a fun little escape from your school life, your home life, Michael, all your stress. You expected to make new friends, meet hot guys, but instead you came an hour late and have been nursing your friend the whole night. You’re seriously going to kick her ass tomorrow.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, her breath reeking of throw up.

You toss her arm over your shoulder and start walking her out of the bathroom. “I’m going to kill you tomorrow, you know that?” you say in her ear and she lets out a small, apologetic whimper.

A cute guy who was talking you up earlier approaches the two of you. He holds two red cups in his hands and shrugs when he sees you. “What the fuck, y/n? You disappeared on me!” he talks to you over the bass-y music. “I got our drinks!” he shakes the cups in his hands and hands one over to you, as if completely ignoring your drunken friend hanging off of your side.

Your friend staggers, nearly bringing you down with her. The cute guy helps you pick her back up and you sigh, annoyed at how much of a disaster your night has turned into. He knits his eyebrows at your sour attitude, then finding the vomit on your dress, he looks back up at you. You see his doe eyes grow apologetic when he mouths a weak “sorry” to you, stepping out of your way. You shake your head as if telling him it’s fine; you just wish you had more time to get to know him.

You continue dragging your friend along your side and hear someone call out your name from behind you. You whip your head around; your hair irritatingly sticks to your lip-gloss. “Hope to see you again!” he calls after you. You nod in his direction and resume walking your friend, who is nearly passed out on your shoulder, to the front door. When you walk out of the house, you’re assaulted with the smell of salt water. Despite this night turning into one of the most frustrating nights of your life, at least you got to visit a Malibu beach house.

A big, black SUV is parked outside of the house and you rush her to the door. Opening the backseat and stuffing her inside the seats in the back. “The app says where you’re taking her, right?” you ask the Uber driver, your voice sounds muted from being struck by loud music all night.

He nods and reads out her address. “Y/n,” your friend slurs, gripping onto your arm with all her strength, “you’re a really nice… you’re a… you’re a really good friend, you know that? Like, seriously,” she pauses to hiccup, “thank you for taking care of me tonight.” Her words are so slurred that it’s nearly impossible to make out her compliment, but you just nod in hopes it’ll get her to let go. She drops your arm and hands you your pricey leather jacket, bunched up in a ball, before shutting the van door.

You throw on your jacket, protecting yourself from the ocean’s breeze, and watch the van drive away when you notice a familiar car parked across the street. The SUV blocked a four-seater Maserati parked on the other side of the road. Michael’s sedentary in the driver’s seat with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You balance yourself on your ridiculously tall heels and stomp over to his car. He doesn’t even see you coming, he’s leaned back in the driver’s seat reading a book.

You crouch down and knock on the glass of his window. His eyes meet yours for a second and he slowly rolls down the window. A mob of cigarette smoke escapes the car and he chucks the stick onto the pavement. You’re both quiet for a few moments, the crashing ocean waves fills up the silence.  “How did you know I was here?” you ask.

He finally puts down his book and looks at you. “Just trying to be a good dad,” he responds.

“Ugh, ew,” you groan. “You’re my step dad.”

He adjusts his seat to start driving, his eyes looking you up and down as he does. “Looks like your night went a little… rough,” he jokes and nods towards the puke on your dress. “You need a ride?”

You look back at the party. As much as you wanted to live up the night, you’re already in too much of a bad mood to go back in there. It doesn’t help that your new dress is covered in puke, too. You turn back around to Michael, he awaits your answer with a cocked brow. “You can’t tell mom,” you sigh, walking around the car to get into the passenger’s seat. The luxury car’s butterfly doors obnoxiously open up for your entry. “Not a word,” you assure him as you slide into the leather seat.

He starts up the car and one of his Led Zeppelin albums begins to play. “I picked you up at the library,” he quips.

He starts driving along the empty coast and you decide to skip the seatbelt, you don’t want to dirty his car with your friend’s retch. His eyes glance over to your seat for a moment, he notices you second guessing the seatbelt and puts a hand on your thigh. You look up at him and intuitively try to tempt him, biting your bottom lip and batting your lashes. “I’ll protect you if we crash,” he whispers, his fingers lightly caress your thighs.

You put your hand on his and slide him further up your leg. He keeps one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road, but when his eyes do meet yours, it makes all the nerves in your core feel like a wave pool. Your dress is short enough for him to reach your panties without any hassle. Your hand is on his when his fingers begin to rub your pussy, still dressed in a pair of panties he bought you. “Baby’s already wet for daddy,” he says under his breath, kneading your clit in small circles.

You feel your stomach erupt with butterflies, you’ve never felt a nervousness so intense before. A rush of thoughts suddenly violates your mind, you try to shut them up but they keep coming. This is wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re disgusting for enjoying this. His fingers have been in your mom before.

You dig your nails into his skin and pull his hand away from you; bending over in your seat and clutching onto your stomach. You only had one drink tonight, you shouldn’t be feeling this sick.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, “are you okay?”

“I think I need air,” you grumble through the sudden sickness. “Can you pull over?”

Michael only takes a minute to find an empty parking lot on the beach and pull into it. You get out of the car without saying a word to him and take off your heels, throwing them into the backseat of his car. You’re already starting to feel your anxiety subside as you shuffle through the cool sand and pace towards the erratic waves crashing on shore. This is one of the reasons you loved LA, the tons of tiny, empty beaches. The ocean at night, and how it constantly smelt like salt water, how it relaxed you.

The breeze blew through your hair, a part of you felt like running into the crashing waves, but a voice took you out of it. “Y/n!” Michael called behind you, over the sound of the whistling wind. He trudges in the sand to get to you; you faintly snicker at his dedication. “Are you okay?” he asks once he’s closer to you.

When you see him, face glowing in the moon light, golden locks blowing in the ocean breeze, face twisted with concern, it all settles. Everything feels like it’s in the right place. Your stomach, although still turning with butterflies, no longer feels sick.

There’s a pause between the two of you; both of you deciding to admire each other instead of the beautiful ocean view beside you. Then, it feels like everything clicks. Like the two of you mentally communicate your longing for each other, your desire. Both shutting your eyes and diving in for a kiss at the same time.

His lips smash against yours, sucking your face, and his tongue quickly invades your mouth. He kisses you like he’s craved your lips for years, passionately cleaning up your mouth with his eager tongue.

Michael works your jacket off of your shoulders and you shimmy it to the ground. He unzips your dress, the zip running along your naked back sends a shiver crawling down your spine. He abandons your lips for a moment to pull down your dress, exposing your bare chest and expensive panties. You’re too lost in lust to even realize you’re half naked on a public beach.

You’re both panting and releasing all of the built-up sexual tension. He stands back up and kisses you again, his hands cup your ass and he gives an echoed smack; his fingers creep down your legs. He grabs onto the back of your thighs and hoists you up, you lightly yelp into his mouth and wrap your legs around him. His large hands hold you up and he leans down, resting you onto the jacket you’ve thrown onto the sand.

Once you’re laid down, he begins rubbing your pussy again. His cold rings adding a different sense of pleasure as he rubs you into entropy. He slides your feeble panties to the side and spits down on your cunt, shoving his finger inside you. You moan at the sudden intrusion, taking in a breath of the salt-scented air. “That’s it, baby girl,” he whispers, adding in another finger, “I want to hear you moan for daddy.”

You take in a breath and whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, slowly pulsing against your g-spot. He touches you as if he already knows which parts make you crumble. “Ooh yeah, daddy,” you cry and grind on his fingers, pushing him deeper inside you, “right there.”

“You’re my dirty little slut, huh?” he asks, gliding in another finger. Your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Little girl likes to get fucked by her daddy?” He adds another finger, completely stretching you out. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you can’t reply. “I asked you a question.”

You meet his cold eyes for a second, before you throw your head back in pleasure. “Yes!” you breathe out, feeling the heat rise in your body. Your sensitive cunt throbs under his gluttonous fingers, persistently fucking you and begging for more. “Yes, oh, keep fucking me just like that, daddy!”

His fingers find a rhythm inside of you, constantly bringing you to the brink of climax and slowing down. “Such a dirty little girl,” he teases and spits on your soaking cunt. He pulls out his fingers and holds them to your lips. You grab his hand and suck on his long fingers, tasting the cool metal rings mixed with the sweet taste of your pussy.

You sit up and lock your lips with his again. Both, you and Michael, unbutton his shirt; you want to feel his flesh against yours as soon as possible. When you get to the bottom, you slide your hands up his body and square the shirt off of his shoulders. His perfect, porcelain skin shines in the moonlight. You want to appreciate it for a moment, but he’s already unbuckling his belt.

He’s propped on his knees, unzipping his black pants and bringing them down to pull his erection out of his briefs. It springs out when you start grabbing for it, he moves back and clicks his tongue. “My greedy little girl,” he mocks, “you don’t get a taste until daddy says you do.”

He pushes you down with one of his hands. His touch is so delicate, yet so commanding. Everything he does is done with conviction and a power that only you could dream of, he is inherently dominant over you. He strokes his long, girthy length over you, you’re practically drooling at the sight. He spits on himself and rubs it into the head. “Spit on it,” he orders.

You sit up and weakly spit on the tip of his cock; it’s too late when you notice your mouth is dry from nervousness. He shakes his head. “You’re so pathetic, you can’t even spit on me right,” he sneers, divorced from the nasty words leaving his lips. He presses his dick against your folds and your fingers curl into your jacket, awaiting the moment he plunges into you. “Say the word, baby girl, say you want me,” he’s lingering at your entrance.

“Please,” you whine, your pussy is beating against his hard cock, “please dad.”

He pushes his head inside you and you grab his arms for support, digging your nails into his skin. He’s so thick, you’ve never felt something so large obtruding your tight cunt. He moves in slowly, reading your stunned facial expressions to see if he should continue stuffing himself inside of you. You let out tiny weeps as he digs deeper into your hole, but you can’t manage much more.

Michael thrusts himself into you until he’s balls deep, even he can’t help but groan. “My little girl is so fucking tight,” he grunts under his breath. He starts to hammer himself into you, going so deep that you feel like pushing him back, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. His cock is so thick that it hits every nerve you could imagine; it’s hard to gather a single word.

He lets out a small chuckle at your reticence. “My innocent baby’s never felt a real cock before, huh?” he taunts, still pounding his length into you. You open your mouth to speak, but settle on shaking your head. One distinct tear runs down the side of your face while stifled cries pass your trembling lips with each time his balls smack into your ass. “You’re taking me like a good fucking girl,” he admires, “my good little slut.”

He lifts up your leg and rests your foot on his shoulder. You’re twisted onto your side, trying to look over your shoulder to see how vigorously he pounds into your cunt. Michael’s new positioning hits exactly in your g-spot, you feel your leg shaking under his grip. “H-holy shit,” your voice trembles, you let out a built-up breath. “Keep going, daddy! Right there, right there, I’m so close,” you’re begging, voice is flooded with desperation. You don’t care how childish you sound, you want nothing more than to come all over Michael’s big dick. “Don’t move, please, please,” you grab onto his arm again.

Tears overflow your eyes when you look into his. Just seeing his determined light blue eyes peering back at you makes you unravel even more. He has no remorse for how weak he’s making you, how vulnerable you’ve become, his unmistakable dominion turns you on.

He listens to your wails, finally granting you the satisfaction you’ve been begging for and plows into your g-spot. Your grip on him gets tighter as he thrusts harder, you’re almost certain he’s going to leave some swelling deep inside your cunt. “Your dick is so, fucking, good,” you breathe in between thrusts.

Michael doesn’t give up, keeping up the same pace and fucking you exactly how you want him to. You’re about to praise his long cock some more when you’re thrown into climax. You try looking back up at him, but you can’t say a word; your mouth hangs wide open with nothing but small chokes croaking out. He can see how dazed he’s made you and shoves your face into the ground, pushing your nose against the leather of your jacket. “You’re going to take daddy’s cock like a good little girl,” he seethes, suffocating your head into your jacket. “Don’t come,” he demands.

He continues punching your g-spot with his huge cock, you feel your pussy spasming under his rough thrusts. He holds both of your arms back, shifting you into doggy-style. His balls slap against your sore clit and you feel yourself starting to ejaculate. “Fuck!” you scream into the breeze of the empty beach. Your cunt twitches and gushes its balmy juices all over Michael’s hard cock.

He slows down his pace and pulls your arms up towards him, you feel his heaving chest against your back. “What did I just fucking say?” he fumes, tugging your arms even closer to him. “Answer me.”

“You told me not to come,” you answer in a syrupy, naïve voice.

He grabs both of your tits to push you flush against him, maintaining his rough thrusts into your cunt. “That’s right,” he whispers in your ear, “baby didn’t fucking listen.” He smacks your tits with both of his hands, striking you hard. You jump at how ruthless he hits you, it makes your stomach flutter again. His full lips lug along your neck. “Remember who you belong to,” he speaks into your neck, sending an iciness throughout your entire body.

Michael digs his teeth into your skin, sucking up your flesh while he continues massaging your breasts, pinching at the hard peaks your nipples have formed. He sucks so hard it stings, you wonder how that would feel on your pussy. His love bite begins to hurt and you shift your head away from him, he snickers. “Who do you belong to?” he whispers, lips chafing the shell of your ear.

He pinches your nipples even harder and you sob in pleasure. “Mmm, you,” you respond, looking over your shoulder to give his lips a frail kiss. “I belong to you, daddy.”

He takes in a deep breath as if shaking off your spell and regaining his confidence. He pushes you onto the ground again and goes back to fucking you like a ragdoll. “You better remember that,” he breathes, mercilessly pummeling himself into you again.

He holds both of your arms back once more, driving himself into you so hard that you’re concerned about cervix bruising. His pace slows down a bit and you look back at him, his mouth drapes open and he stares down at the back of your head. He pushes you away as he orgasms, savagely shoving your face back into the ground, as you feel his warm seed spilling inside your wet cunt. Michael groans from deep within his chest, letting out a long sigh when he’s done. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, “fuck, you sexy bitch.”

You let out a little giggle at this and he joins. He hauls himself out of you and you feel all of your muscles relax. You shift onto your back, looking up at Michael in disbelief. You’re too caught up in euphoria to comprehend what just happened. All you can think of in this moment is how fucking good he was. Even Michael has a dumbfounded look on his face.

He shakes his head and liberates a nervous laugh, “We’re so fucked up.”

You can say that again.

[purplehairedwonder]

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 10

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 3233 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Nico Robin, Usopp, Zoro, Nami, Franky, Smoker, Tashigi, Vergo, Heart Pirates Note: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

The story title is based on the Ellie Goulding song “Hearts Without Chains.”

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

When Law ended the call, Bepo felt his heartrate picking up as he considered what his friend had said. Bepo didn’t know where Law was—he kept so much to himself anymore and had practically fled when he, Shachi, and Penguin had confronted him on his way out of Dressrosa—but Vergo following him from Dressrosa was bad news. Everyone in the Family knew there was bad blood between the first and current Corazons, though not everyone knew why.

Bepo did, having seen the aftermath of the wounds Vergo had caused when he and Law had first met. Shachi and Penguin were the only others—except Violet, Bepo supposed—in whom Law had confided that history.

What Bepo couldn’t figure out was why Doflamingo would believe Law had defected, considering his entire crew was still on Dressrosa; Law would never risk them like that. Doflamingo saw to it that Law would not (could not) betray him. But if Law was worried enough to warn them, Vergo must have some trump card.

Not for the first time, Bepo wished Law had brought backup on his mission, whether it was him, Shachi, and Penguin or any of the other Hearts. Bepo’s captain was too willing to go at it alone when he didn’t have to—and now he was in trouble because of it. All the Hearts could do was be his backup in Dressrosa, waiting for his return and whatever that might bring.

Still, as Bepo scoured the Hearts’ rooms and the most likely hang out spots around the palace for his nakama, a part of him was lighter in relief. The Law on the other end of the Den Den Mushi had sounded familiar; he’d sounded like Bepo’s captain and best friend, who Bepo hadn’t heard in two years. Law had locked himself away since Shachi lost his arm, drowning in guilt and refusing all attempts to bring him out of his self-made prison. It had pained them all to watch helplessly as he pulled away, becoming a shadow of himself in a misguided effort to protect them.

But Bepo had known that his best friend—strong, brave, and loyal—was still in there, under all the guilt and pain.

And he’d been right.

Bepo’s best friend had been the one to call his nakama in the middle of a mission to warn them of potential danger while promising to return for them despite the obvious danger doing so presented.

Bepo had missed Law, and now he’d do whatever he could as first mate to support his captain and look after their nakama.

It took about half an hour, but Bepo finally managed to gather his crewmates in Bepo’s room. He knew they wouldn’t be overheard here, as Law regularly checked the Hearts’ rooms for surveillance Den Den Mushi. The small bedroom was not designed to house twelve people, but the Hearts were used to confined spaces.

“What’s going on, Bepo?” Shachi asked once everyone had arrived and the door had been shut firmly behind them.

“Law called,” Bepo replied. He refused to use the title the Family used for Law when speaking only among the Hearts. He was also not surprised by the concern that his pronouncement elicited.

“Is he okay?”

“Where is he?”

“What’s going on?”

Bepo held up a paw, and once his nakama had quieted, he relayed what Law had told him. Bepo knew frustratingly little about his captain’s situation, so when his nakama burst into questions, Bepo had no answers for them. No, he didn’t know where Law was, though he must be close because he’d only left that morning. No, he didn’t know what Law’s mission was or why Vergo was there. No, no, no, he didn’t know.

“He said he worried Vergo would tell Doflamingo he’d failed or defected,” Bepo reminded his nakama. “He didn’t know that Vergo did for sure. But he wants us to be careful in case he did.”

“Would Doflamingo believe Vergo about this?” Jean Bart asked, looking at the crew who’d been around the Family longest.

Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo exchanged glances and shrugged. Doflamingo’s moods were impossible to predict.

“Vergo is Doflamingo’s most trusted agent,” Penguin said. The intimacy of that relationship was common knowledge within the Family. “But Doflamingo also knows about the bad blood between him and Law.”

“He must also know Law left all of us here,” Shachi added. “He knows Law wouldn’t risk us.”

“Then what are we missing?” Ikkaku asked, glancing at Bepo. “What had Law so worried about Vergo lying?”

There was no answer to that. But Bepo had heard the worry in Law’s voice and the seriousness in his warning. Whatever Law was keeping to himself must be quite persuasive.

“What do we do now?” Uni asked.

“Head for the Tang,” Clione muttered.

“We can’t act like we know anything is wrong,” Penguin said, ignoring him. “We’d raise suspicions and make Law look guilty otherwise.”

“But we need to keep an eye on each other,” Shachi added.

Bepo nodded. This is what he had promised Law; they would take care of themselves, so Law didn’t have to worry about them in addition to Vergo and whatever his mission was.

“Stay close,” Bepo said. The Hearts had their own wing of the palace, complete with common area, kitchen, and training rooms, so they didn’t often need to leave; the isolation suited them just fine since they, being loyal to Law rather than Doflamingo, felt out of place from the rest of the Family. “And if you need to leave, take a buddy.”

Normally, someone would have cracked a joke about the buddy system, but the concern on the air was heavy enough to stay even Shachi’s tongue. Instead, everyone nodded in response. They would take no chances; they’d seen what happened to traitors to the Donquixote Family. There was nothing to be done other than stay on their toes and wait to hear from their captain.

-----

Law entered the lab the same way he had when he’d first arrived, Shambling through the back entrance into the darkened hallway. He headed for the control room, unsure of what he would find. He thought his bootsteps echoed more loudly than he remembered from a few hours earlier, but he knew he was just imagining it. He tightened his grip on Kikoku and kept walking until he saw light.

Once he and Straw Hat had shaken on their agreement to team up, Nico Robin had returned Kikoku, the nodachi suddenly appearing in Law’s vision as a disembodied hand offered her to him. Law managed to suppress a surprised flinch and took the blade with a nod to the woman, who smiled at him in that unsettling way of hers. Still, a feeling of calm had settled over him with the return of Kikoku’s familiar presence; she was an old friend, after all.

Between Law and the Straw Hats, they had two separate goals on Punk Hazard: stop Vergo and save the children. Law wasn’t particularly concerned with the second goal, but the Straw Hats were set on it and Law would do what he needed to in order to help his nakama.

That put Vergo, Caesar, Monet, and Caesar’s men in their way. G-5 was a wildcard. Though the Marines had entered the lab with the other half of the Straw Hats, there was no telling how long that tenuous alliance would last, especially with Vergo on the island.

Law had no way of knowing if Vergo had called Doffy yet, though he had to operate on the assumption that he had; anything else would only get him—and his crew—killed faster. As for whether Vergo had shown his face in the lab, that was another story. While Caesar and Monet would be friendly to Vergo, Law also knew that the vice admiral would go out of his way to avoid blowing his cover with the Marines. The other man was of most use to Doffy in his elevated position among the Marines and wouldn’t blow fifteen years of undercover work just for his grudge against Law. With that in mind, it was entirely possible Vergo was remaining hidden and waiting for his chance to capture Law and bring him back in shackles to Dressrosa without being seen.

Knowing the importance of doing recon before setting any plan in motion, Law had convinced the Straw Hats to let him go back to the lab alone and see where he stood and see what he could find out about Vergo and the rest of the Straw Hats. They’d been hesitant, but Law had held firm that it made the most sense for him to go on his own.

“What if Vergo did out you?” Black Leg asked. “You’d be a sitting duck by yourself.”

“I can handle Vergo,” Law replied. Now that he wasn’t hindered by Seastone anyway.

“But what about all the other guys?” Straw Hat asked. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

“It’ll raise more suspicion if we’re together,” Law countered.

“But if you need help—”

“What about a Den Den Mushi?” Long Nose interrupted. Everyone turned to look at him, and he shrugged uncomfortably but kept speaking. “If he,” he said, jerking his head at Law, ���calls our ship’s Den Den Mushi and leaves the line open, we can hear what’s going on.”

“And we can come if Torao needs us!” Straw Hat concluded, satisfied. “Let’s do it,” he said, pumping his fist.

Law had rolled his eyes, but that was how he’d ended up with his Den Den Mushi’s line open to the Straw Hats’ as it sat in his coat pocket. He’d warned Straw Hat not to be noisy on the other end of the line or he’d blow Law’s cover, and the others had promised to keep him quiet. (Law hadn’t been particularly reassured but didn’t have much choice but to continue anyway.) The Straw Hats were stationed outside the lab out of surveillance range, listening as Law entered the control room.

Law blinked as he stepped inside, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the bright light before glancing around. The room appeared empty. Where were Caesar and Monet? It looked like he’d need to head further into the lab.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Den Den Mushi. He opened his mouth to update the Straw Hats on what he’d found, but a familiar voice cut him off.

“Corazon? What the hell are you doing here?”

Law’s gaze followed the voice to the far wall, and he blinked in surprise at a large cage partially hidden in the shadows. He didn’t remember that being there before, but he hadn’t studied the room carefully upon his arrival either. He pocketed the snail and meandered over to the cage, raising an eyebrow when he saw what was inside.

Or, rather, who was inside.

Smoker was the one who had spoken. His eyes were narrowed as he eyed Law from his prone position, chained with what was undoubtedly Seastone chain.

“How’d you get here?” the swordswoman growled at Law from next to her boss.

“Where’s Luffy?” the cat burglar demanded.

Law simply watched the group, considering. Smoker, his second, the cat burglar, Zoro, and the cyborg had apparently all been captured by Caesar and were left chained in this cage. That left the tanuki and skeleton as well as the remaining G-5 soldiers somewhere in the base. He was considering what Caesar might want with them and what this meant for Vergo’s position when the cat burglar interrupted his thoughts.

“Say something, would you?” she sneered when Law remained quiet. “What did you do to Luffy?”

“Nothing,” Law replied, turning toward her. Though he could see why she would assume he had. “We…” he began, considering how to describe what had happened, “came to an agreement.”

“What kind of agreement?” Zoro asked, his one-eyed gazing piercing. He didn’t sound as disbelieving as the cat burglar did, though his attention was focused fully on Law now.

“Was that Nami and Zoro?”

Everyone started at the sound of Straw Hat’s muffled voice coming from Law’s pocket.

“Luffy?” the cat burglar called.

Law sighed and pulled the Den Den Mushi from his pocket. “Your crew seems to have gotten themselves captured, Straw Hat-ya,” Law informed him.

“What?” Straw Hat yelped. “Are you guys okay? We’re coming!”

“Wait, Luffy!” Long Nose interrupted. “What’s going on there, Torao? Is that guy there?”

“Torao?” the swordswoman asked, confused.

Law ignored her. “There was no one in the lab except your captured friends,” he said toward the snail. He looked back to the prisoners. “What happened?”

“Caesar,” Smoker growled.

“Is that Smokey?” Straw Hat asked.

“He did something to air when we confronted him about the children,” the vice admiral explained. “Woke up here after that.”

“What about Monet?” Law asked. “The woman,” he clarified when the others looked at him blankly.

“Brook and I were fighting her before I blacked out,” Zoro said.

“Whatever the clown did to the air probably didn’t affect him since he’s a skeleton,” the cat burglar said thoughtfully. “No lungs.”

Law knew Monet was dangerous, having gone on numerous missions with her before she’d been sent to Punk Hazard, so if the skeleton could keep her occupied while they took care of Vergo, that would be helpful.

“Where’s the tanuki?” Law asked.

“He’s a reindeer,” Zoro and the cat burglar replied, along with some garbled voices from the Den Den Mushi.

Law rolled his eyes. “Whatever. He’s not here with you.”

“He was looking for the lab to find out what the clown had done to the children,” the swordswoman said. “They must not have found him yet.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you know what they’re doing to the children?”

Law shrugged, uninterested. “No.”

“You’re Donquixote’s second, you must know everything that’s going on,” Smoker countered.

“You may be surprised to know that I don’t have intimate knowledge of every project Doflamingo has going on,” Law countered coolly. The fact was, Doffy simply had too many ongoing schemes for any one executive to know all about. They all had specific projects they oversaw for Doffy, and Punk Hazard was Vergo’s. Law knew the general outline of the SAD manufacturing on the island, but that was about it.

“You still haven’t answered what kind of agreement you and Luffy came to,” Zoro interrupted.

Law turned back to him, but it was Straw Hat who answered over the open line. “We’re going to help Torao save his nakama from Mingo!”

“What?” the cat burglar sputtered.

Zoro narrowed his eye. “What are you talking about, Luffy?”

There was some shuffling on the other end of the line before Nico Robin spoke up. “One of Doflamingo’s agents is on the island and is threatening Corazon and his crew. Luffy has decided he wants to help.”

“Why?” the cat burglar demanded, glaring at Law. “He tried to kill us. He works for a man experimenting on kids.”

Looks like that had stopped bothering Law a long time ago, so he simply returned her look evenly.

“But he doesn’t want to,” Straw Hat said. “Torao’s a good guy!”

“Luffy—” Zoro started, but his captain cut him off.

“He saved me, Zoro.”

There was some meaning in those words that Law didn’t fully comprehend, but Zoro apparently did, his mouth snapping shut. He closed his eye, leaned back against the cell wall, and nodded grudgingly. “Fine,” he grumbled.

The cat burglar looked at him in disbelief. “You’re just going to go along with this?” she demanded. She looked like she could have smacked him if she hadn’t been bound.

It seemed the cat burglar was the member of the crew with the ounce of common sense Law had been wondering about.

“He’s the captain, witch,”

Zoro commented without opening his eye.

She huffed. “Luffy, he’ll betray you.”

“Nope,” Straw Hat replied. “He won’t.”

The cat burglar eyed Law suspiciously. “How can you be so sure?”

“As of now,” Law said before Straw Hat could speak, “our goals align. It’s in the best interest of me and my nakama not to betray you all.”

“How reassuring,” she sneered.

“Nami.”

She looked back at the Den Den Mushi. “Luffy—”

“Do you trust me, Nami?”

She startled at that. “Of course.”

“Then trust me. Please.”

After a long moment, she sighed and nodded, the tension in her frame deflating. “Fine.”

Even the cat burglar, it seemed, could be swayed by the will of her captain.

The Will of D., Law couldn’t help but think.

“Now what, Torao?” Straw Hat asked.

Rather than answer, Law dropped the snail back into his pocket then held his hand up and opened a Room large enough to encompass the cage. He unsheathed Kikoku and sliced the bars open. The sound was finally enough to wake the cyborg, who startled into consciousness. He yelped at the sight of Law above them, sword in hand, but the cat burglar murmured something to him, and he quieted down.

Law stepped inside, and, with three quick slices, three sets of chains fell to the ground as Law freed the Straw Hats. They pushed themselves to their feet and, stretching their cramped muscles, filed out past Law. For his part, Law eyed Smoker and the captain.

“Now, what to do with the two of you?”

Smoker glowered at Law while the swordswoman watched him warily. As far as Law was concerned, they could sit here and rot, but as a fellow vice admiral, Smoker could be good leverage against Vergo, if the bastard showed his face. Anything that made things more complicated for Vergo was a good move in Law’s book. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make them sweat a bit first, though.

“Go ahead and kill us, pirate,” Smoker sneered. “Finish what you started earlier. See what happens to your boss when it gets out that his second killed a vice admiral.”

Law decided not to mention he’d been sent to Punk Hazard to kill Smoker in the first place.

“No!” the swordswoman said. “Please, let us go.”

“Tashigi,” Smoker hissed. “Don’t beg for your life from a pirate! Where’s your pride?”

But rather than be cowed, she glared right back at him. “There are innocent children on this island that need help. It’s our duty to rescue them, so if begging for my life will help me save those children, then I’ll gladly do it!”

Law was grudgingly impressed with her resolve. “It seems she’s smarter than you, White Chase-ya.” Smoker growled wordlessly at Law, but Law pressed on. “Your presence on the island is, ironically, useful to me now, so I’m willing to let you go. On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Smoker demanded.

“Not a word of this alliance between myself and the Straw Hats to anyone. If it gets out, I will come find you.”

“Fine,” the swordswoman agreed in her boss’s place. “Now let us go.”

“Alliance?” a new voice said.

Law stiffened. Shit. He turned to see Vergo standing in the doorway to the front entrance of the room.

“Doffy didn’t believe me before that you’re a traitor, but now he’ll have it in your own words, Law.”

Next chapter

[zovioliswritings]

"Hopeless, worthless, and useless...." Leo x fem reader

(HI! so this is my first fan fiction in like...years lmao. So let me know what you guys think! Also, in this Y/N has an extreme fear of confrontation due to family history, having gone behind Leo's back to train with Splinter. What will happen when she is forced to do the one thing she fears the most?)

Y/N panted heavily, hunched over with her hands on her knees. Trying to catch her breath as Master Splinter watched with a small smile.

"You are doing much better my child." He relaxed from his fighting stance and made his way over to the young woman. Resting a gentle paw on her shoulder. "Though you need to learn not to waste so much of your energy so quickly."

She let out a small groan as she straightened her posture. "How am I supposed to do that? You're so much faster than me. I have to act quickly."

This earned a small chuckle from him, letting his paw fall back to his side. "That may be true, but you could benefit from being more defensive. Something you and Raphael have in common. You should train with him, you two could help benefit one another."

With a shake of her head, she let out a defeated sigh. "As much as I'd love to do that, I can't. That would just raise the chances of Leo finding out. You know he doesn't want me to fight, Sensei."

The rat sighed, shaking his head. Knowing exactly how his eldest son would react if he found Y/N sparring with his red clad brother. "Then maybe it is time we have a talk with Leonardo. This over-protectiveness of his has become overbearing."

Y/N shook her head frantically, her heart dropping as anxiety instantly filled her soul. "N-no Sensei, you promised me you wouldn't say anything. I-its fine, I know Leo means well. He just doesn't want me to be hurt."

"This goes beyond just you getting hurt Y/N, he refuses for you to learn how to properly protect yourself." Splinters eyes narrowed, irritated with his son's decisions. "I've kept my promise in hopes you would eventually tell him, but it has been 6 months. It is only a matter of time before he finds out."

"I-I know..." Y/N whispered, twiddling with her thumbs. Unable to look up at the mutant rat. Her anxiety of eating away at her, making her wish a hole would appear under her feet and swallow her whole.

Master Splinter let out a sigh, forcing his shoulders to relax. His voice soft, but stern. "I know your fear of confronting this subject is hard on you miss Y/L/N, but this can not drag on much further. I'm giving you two days to tell my son."

Y/N's eyes widened as she snapped her gaze up to him. Her heart pounding in her chest as her lungs suddenly founding it difficult to breathe. "T...T-two....two days? M-m-master splinter I-I can't p-p-"

He rested his paw on her shoulder once again," You can and you will Y/N. It is not healthy for him to keep you from doing things and you going behind his back to do them anyway. It has to come to an end. Within these two days you will tell Leonardo.....or I will."

Y/N's breathing picked up, fighting to keep herself from having an anxiety attack. Her heart nearly stopped and leaped out of her chest when a familiar voice appeared behind the two.

"Tell me what Sensei?"

His voice, it sounded concerned. Y/N could feel his eyes on her back, but she couldn't move to face him. She was frozen, her hands trembling terribly. Her thoughts running a thousand miles a minute, completely shutting out the world around her. That is until someone gently grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to turn towards them. Her anxiety crept up from her chest to her throat, squeezing around her vocal cords. Keeping her from being able to make any kind of sound. It was like things were in slow motion. Leo was there, right in front of her. His turtle form towering over her. He looked so concerned and confused. He glanced from Master Splinter and then back to her.

His lips were moving, but she still couldn't hear anything. Only her thoughts. 'He's going to find out....he's going to be so angry with me...he's going to hate me for going behind his back....w-what...what do I do...'

Tears started to blur her vision, with the last bit of control she had, she ripped herself away from Leo and ran. Running faster than she ever had before. She was out of the lair and deep within the sewers before anyone could even say something. By the time she got to the surface her breathes were coming out labored, barely able to keep herself up right as she leaned against a building. Trying to desperately catch her breath while looking around, trying to figure out where she was. Tears streaming down her face when she spotted her apartment building across the street. Within a minute she was in her apartment, slamming the door behind her. Quickly locking it before going to every window and locking them.

When she was done, she finally collapsed onto her couch. Her lungs gasping for air as her body screamed in pain. Having been pushed past it's limits and then some. She buried her face into a pillow, struggling to calm herself down. Her cries coming out in broken sobs and pants. Everything hurt, both physically and mentally. It didn't take to long before she fell unconscious due to exhaustion and over exertion. Leaving her mind a slave to itself.  

~

By the time Y/N woke up the next day, it was already 2:30 in the afternoon. She could barely move, her body still completely worn by last nights events. She laid there on the couch for a few hours before her stomach forced her to get up and feed it. Though nothing sounded good. Even though she was hungry, she had lost all appetite to eat anything. After a while, she just forced herself to eat a bowel of cereal before returning to the couch. Turning on the TV, using it more for background noise than actually watching it as she was pulled back into her thoughts.

She stayed there the rest of the day. Hiding under her blanket whenever she heard Casey or April at the front door Ignoring them no matter what they said, even putting a book shelf against the door when Casey threatened to bust down the door.

As the sun started to go down, her anxiety started to settle in again. She knew Leo would be coming over. It was only just a matter of when. Her window was all she had to keep him out, and that wouldn't stand a chance against him if he really wanted to get in. Y/N knew this wouldn't last long, tomorrow Leo would know. Whether she liked it or not. But if she could hold out on the confrontation until tomorrow, then she damn sure was going to waste every minute she could.

The second the sun was no longer visible in the sky, there was a tapping on her window.  This caused her heart rate to spike as she buried herself deeper into her blankets. Snuggling further into the couch. Trying to make herself as small as possible. She could faintly hear her name being called out.

'It's him....he's here...' Anxiety swelled into her stomach once more as she tried to ignore his constant tapping. After a while it suddenly stopped and it was quiet for about ten minutes. Hesitantly, she untangled herself from her blanket and slowly lifted herself off her couch. Tip toeing to her room and over to the window. Peaking outside, looking for any sign of her beloved turtle. After about five minutes, she let out a sigh of relief. Relaxing as she unlocked her window and opened it. Taking in a breath of fresh air. Crossing her arms as she leaned against the window seal and closed her eyes. Letting the night breeze calm her down further.

"...Y/N..."

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of her name, jumping back when she found Leo standing right in front of her. His face having been just inches from hers. Her breath picked up as she backed further into the room. Watching as he entered the room. His movements slow and gentle.

"Y/N wait...it's okay, I just want to know what's wrong." He spoke so softly, taking a step towards her.

She shook her head and took another step back. Looking down as she felt her back meet one of the walls in her room. Her heart racing.

Leo frowned as he watched her, taking careful steps towards her. He hated seeing her like this, and he didn't understand why. Why was she acting so afraid of him? "Y/N its okay, please down be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know what's wrong.." He stopped once he was right in front of her, his body towering over her. Placing a gentle hand on her arm, frowning even more when she flinched under his touch. "Y/n please....its okay love...You can tell me, I'm not gonna be upset."

"B-but you are..." She choked out with a sob, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Y-You're g-g-gonna b-be so mad a-and hate m-me." She buried her face into her hands as she sobbed. Crying even harder when Leo pulled her into his arms.

"Love no, I could never ever be mad at you. Let alone hate you." He gently picked her up and carried her over to the bed. Sitting down and setting her on his lap as he comforted her. Gently rubbing her back as she cried into his plastron. Slowly getting her to calm down.

She sniffled as she stared at his neck, lightly tracing random shapes on his plastron. Unable to look him in the eye.

"Y/N....could you please tell me what this is all about.." He felt her tense up in his arms once again. "Its okay Y/N...I'm not going to be mad.." He gently kissed the apex of her head.

They both sat in silence for a few minutes before Y/N worked up the courage to speak. "I...I-I..." Leo didn't say anything, he just rubbed her back. Encouraging her to continue. "I went behind your back....a-and have been training with Master Splinter..."

Leo's eyes widened, most defiantly having not expected that. "What?"

Y/N whimpered and buried herself further into the turtle. "I-I k-know you said you d-didn't want me to start any serious training b-b-but..." Her voice closed off as tears started to well up in her eyes once again.

"But what love..?" He cooed softly in her ear. No trace of anger or betrayal was found in his voice. It gave her to courage to continue.

"B-but I c-couldn't just be satisfied with the basic training you taught me. It was all just simple techniques to be able to slip away and run...and...it wasn't enough." Y/N pulled away just enough to look up at him. "Yeah, those techniques worked whenever we were in a pinch but...having to leave you guys behind to fight the fight...." Her gaze dropped back down to his plastron, letting everything that she felt out. "Hopeless, worthless, and useless...the list can go on and on with how it made me feel. To know that I couldn't do anything more and that that's all you thought I would ever be capable of doing."

Leo's heart dropped as he looked down at her. How could he have done this, he had only meant to protect her from harm. But here he was, hurting her so much that she feared to tell him about something so small. He pulled her closer into his arms, nuzzling his face into her hair. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'm so, so sorry.  You are capable of so much more than that. I never meant to make you feel that way." He gently kissed the top of her head once more. "I just....was afraid that once your started to learn how to fight, then it meant you were now really apart of everything that I want to protect you from."

"But I'm already apart of it Leo," She said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "The moment I meet you guys, I became apart of your life. Whether I know how to fight or not."

He sighed softly, "I know....I just... "

Y/N nuzzled his cheek, "I know...."

They sat in silence for a while, just holding one another. Both lost in their own thoughts,

"If you'd like..." Leo said, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" She replied, pulling away enough to look up at him. Finally being able to meet his gaze without fear.

"I can help and train with you....I know how tough Master Splinter can be." He gave a gentle smile, resting his forehead on hers.

A smile pulled at her lips. "I'd really like that...and Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you..."

His smile grew, " I love you too."

[crimson-rose15]

Mate?--MiniCat Omegaverse One-Shot (Pt. 2)

Welp...this is by far the longest part I’ve ever written...

There’ll be a part 3. I’ve already decided. There’s nothing N/S/F/W in this part (even if I did say there would be some via the last chapter. I’m working it out as I go), but there most likely will be some in the next part!

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Twelve years had passed. Craig had waited all throughout those years to meet his mate again, but it never happened. He hadn’t even caught a glimpse of his mate in all those years of knowing that he had found them.

Because of that, he became emotionless, only feeling things in the heat of the moment, his heart hardening at the thought of his mate.

He didn’t even know if he’d recognize them as his Mate should he ever see them again.

Chloe had tried to get him to at least try to date someone, even though she knew that they wouldn’t be his mate, Craig refusing due to not wanting to snap at them without reason, not wanting them to get attached to him whatsoever.

He had decided that he was meant to be alone, and there wasn’t anything that anyone could say to change his mind.

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Craig ran alongside the creek that now ran through a different pack’s territory, not caring either way, having done the same run countless times, and never once gotten caught.

He was in his wolf form. It’s not like they’d know who he was if they were to chase him back to his Alpha and Luna, anyways.

After a while he came to a stop, looking around, sniffing the air and the ground, making sure that he was alone before shifting back into his human form, sitting down as he looked around.

The place had became almost overgrown with tall bushes and small trees, but there was still plenty of open space to know exactly where he was.

He was in the location of which he had first met his mate, even if he didn’t know their name.

He shifted back to a wolf a few moments later, slipping silently into the water, walking out the middle of the creek before sitting down, lowering his front legs just enough to get everything but his head and ears wet, closing his eyes, enjoying the coolness it brought him compared to the summer heat that was practically baking him while he was in his wolf form.

That’s when he heard someone--or something--step out of the treeline, opening his eyes, turning his head, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

It was a massive brown and white wolf with huge paws and icy blue eyes, seeing how they tilted their head at him, huffing in question.

Craig said nothing, instead sitting up before standing up, keeping his distance while he walked up onto the shore that the brown and white wolf was on, shaking the water from his pelt as soon as he was on dry land.

The bigger wolf huffed in annoyance, shaking their head before sniffing the air in the direction that the Beta was standing before taking a few steps back, making sure to keep their distance, but never turning to run away from Craig’s presence.

The Beta took a few steps towards the wolf, hearing the warning growl that came with it, keeping his guard up as he stepped closer, his head lowered in respect before the other lowered his head as well, both of them scenting each other while staying back as far as possible.

That’s when the larger wolf snarled, baring their fangs, Craig doing the same before the wolf snapped at him, Craig returning the challenge by beginning the fight that was inevitable from the start.

They fought with claws and fangs, snarling and yelping at each other as they moved around, falling into the creek at one point, both of them continuing to fight even as the water blinded them from it splashing in their faces, blood mixing with the water from the small wounds that they caused each other.

The point of the fight was not to kill one another, it was to have one either yield, to have the other run from knowing that they couldn’t fight the stronger of the two, or to create a small Pack bond despite one or the other not having a Pack.

And, at the moment, it wouldn’t appear that either was willing to back down, or run for that matter.

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After a long while, both wolves became too exhausted to fight any longer, both panting heavily as they pulled themselves onto shore, Craig laying on his side, his tongue out as he panted, the larger wolf sitting upright with his head hung low as he tried to catch his breath after everything that had just happened.

That’s when the wolf shifted, Craig watching as it all happened, his heart practically stopping as soon as they had shifted back to their human form.

The human now standing before him was Tyler, the Alpha that had taken over half of the Territory that had belonged to Craig’s Pack.

“I’ll admit…” Tyler spoke, still not having caught his breath, “...You’re the first in a while to have fought me without giving in. Tell me, what’s your name, and where are you from?”

Craig said nothing, instead sitting upright, shifting to his human form, tossing his hair to make himself look somewhat presentable to the Alpha that he had fought without knowing.

“My Luna calls me Mini,” Craig spoke, sighing as he kept his eyes off the Alpha, “I’m from the pack that you took this Territory from”

Tyler said nothing, Mini turning and looking at him as he did, seeing the look of shock on his face as he did.

“You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something”

“I think I’ve seen you before,” Tyler spoke, narrowing his eyes, “Your actual name is Craig, right?”

“Yeah...why do you ask, and why do you want to know?”

“I have to know who the future Luna’s guard is for any pack, be it that if I am to speak with the current or Future Luna of a pack, I’ll know who is there with her,” Tyler spoke, Mini shrugging as he did, “It’s the duty of an Alpha, that’s all”

“And...why would that be important?”

“It inadvertently assures my safety, that’s why. I need to know all those that may try to oppose me. That’s a duty that I have to uphold as the Alpha of my pack”

Craig said nothing, instead rolling his eyes as he looked away from the Alpha, hearing the sigh come from Tyler, knowing that the Alpha had seen his act of disrespect.

“Where did you live when this territory belonged to your pack?” Tyler asked, Craig letting out a small growl as he did, not wanting to talk about such a thing, knowing that he’d blow up over something that he had no control over, especially since he spent the last two years trying not to confront the very Alpha that he was sitting near at that very moment because of what he had taken from him, “Was it near here?”

“It was,” Mini growled, his eyes flashing a bright green, trying to warn Tyler to back off, knowing that the Alpha would push either way, even if they had just fought.

Mini wouldn’t hesitate to fight him again if it meant that he could get his point across.

“I see. Is that why you’ve come here again? To see your territory, and where your home was?”

“No,” Mini spoke, feeling his anger boil to the surface, trying to keep it down in the presence of the Alpha, “I came here...for reasons that you don’t need to know because they don’t concern you”

“Don’t they, though?” Tyler spoke, his voice stern, having caught onto Mini’s anger, “You ARE on my territory, so I have every right to ask you what you’re doing here”

Mini let out a growl, shaking his head, refusing to state his reasons for being there.

That’s when Tyler moved too quickly for Mini to counter, the Beta finding himself on his back with Tyler straddling him, pinning his hands next to his sides, growling as Tyler’s eyes started glowing dark blue in color.

“Answer me,” Tyler spoke, his voice laced with that of his wolfly side, “I won’t tell you again”

“I came here to see if...someone was here,” Craig growled, shaking his head as he tried to break the Alpha’s grasp, failing miserably, “Someone that I’ve been waiting to meet for a very long time”

“You mean your Mate from another pack?” Tyler asked, watching as Mini’s face paled, having spoke the words that the Beta would not, “The one that apparently met you here who knows how long ago?”

“How would you know that?” Mini asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “They don’t know my name, and I don’t know theirs, so there’s no way that they could have known that it was me that was looking for them”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Tyler spoke, sitting up as he released Mini’s wrists, still keeping him pinned with his weight, “They heard you and your...female friend, argue, and heard her call your name. They know your name, and they’re aware that you don’t know who they are, or what their name is”

Upon hearing that, Mini turned his head, looking away from the Alpha, narrowing his eyes.

“Am I even allowed to know who they are?” He asked finally, “If they know who I am, doesn’t that mean that I have a right to know who they are?”

“No,” Tyler spoke, Mini turning his head quickly, disbelief and anger in his eyes at that one word, “They’re not willing to put either of you in danger by revealing themself to you. I ask that you respect their decision, and do not try to pursue finding them. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Mini said nothing, instead narrowing his eyes, baring his fangs at the Alpha above him in challenge, Tyler narrowing his eyes and growling as he did.

“If you pursue them, your pack will kick you out. Even you know that. Are you really willing to give up everything you know, everything you have, for one Shifter that you know nothing about? Someone that you only met as a child, and have no idea of what they look like at this present time?”

“If it means that I’m able to have the happiness that I was never allowed throughout my entire life,” Mini spoke, tears pricking at his eyes, Tyler’s gaze softening in sympathy at the sight of such a thing, “Then yes, I would be willing to walk away from my Pack to be with my Destined Mate”

Tyler said nothing, instead getting off the Beta, Mini sitting up as soon as he had, accepting the hand held out for him to help him get up, watching as Tyler turned around, letting out a huff as he did.

“I can’t tell you,” The Alpha answered finally, “The promise to keep you safe...cannot be broken, by any means”

That’s when he turned back to Mini, a pained look in his eyes.

“What you are searching for...you cannot have it. I’m sorry”

And with that, Tyler shifted to his wolf form, and ran off, Mini missing the tears that fell from his eyes as he disappeared from sight, leaving the Beta alone yet again.

Mini said nothing, instead shifting back to his wolf form, and heading back the way that he had come, feeling more hurt than anything, tears refusing to fall from his eyes.

He wouldn’t cry over such a thing. As long as his mate was alive, he would be fine knowing that they knew who he was, even if it was only his name. At least, that’s what he told himself.

His body, on the other hand? had...different, plans in mind.

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“Where were you?” Chloe asked as soon as Craig got back, having shifted back to his human form, revealing every cut, bite, and bruise that littered his skin.

It had taken him about half an hour to get home, so his injuries were still quite fresh.

“Who did you get in a fight with to make you look like this?!”

“No one important,” Mini growled, his eyes flashing bright green as he did, “Don’t ask me again”

“What’s gotten into you?” She asked, tilting her head, offended by his attitude, “You’re never this irritable, even when you’ve done something you shouldn’t have”

“I got too close to the someone outside of our pack, and they fought me, got it?!” He barked, disbelief at himself coursing through him moments after he did.

He hadn’t ever barked at Chloe, no matter how mad she made him.

What was going on with him?

“Craig, are you alright?” She asked, her tone turning soft, cautious, “You’re...you’re acting strange. It’s scaring me”

“I...I don’t know what’s going on,” He answered truthfully, looking at his feet in submission to his Luna, “Just...just stay away from me for a bit, alright? maybe it has to do with me still being angry from fighting earlier, I don’t know”

“Okay,” Chloe answered, Mini saying nothing as he turned, walking away from her, heading home.

Whatever was going on, he didn’t want to take his anger out on Chloe. That was the last person that he wanted to hurt, physically or emotionally.

He just wished he knew why he was so irritable at the moment.

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When Craig got to his and Chloe’s shared house, he went up to his room, closing the door behind him before kicking his shoes and socks off, changing into a different pair of clothes before laying down, sighing deeply as he took his glasses off, setting them on his nightstand before shifting to a more comfortable position, simply laying still, not thinking about anything in particular at that moment.

He didn’t realize when, but he’d closed his eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

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Burning.

That’s the only word he could use to describe how his body felt when he woke up at twelve at night. His blood felt like it was on fire, and he was letting out pheromones that he was practically suffocating in.

What was going on with him? was he going through a heat?

“Heats only happen when ones mate is nearby,” Mini breathed out, his voice barely a whisper as he recited what he had read about from school a few years back, remembering it like it was yesterday, “I haven’t met my mate in years, and I was too young to have a heat back then, so I was assured to not have one since I’m not allowed to meet them...unless...”

His thoughts wandered to Tyler, gasping as he basically curled up into a ball of pain from everything that was happening to him, tears forming in his eyes as he grit his teeth, his fangs piercing into his bottom lip from the strain of everything that was happening to his body.

That’s when he made a decision.

He gasped as he forced himself to climb out of his bed, swaying on his feet as he walked out of his room, staying as silent as possible as he made it to the front door of his house, opening and closing the door behind him before letting out a pained breath of air, gasping as he forced his body to shift to its wolf form, barely managing to from the pain he was experiencing before letting out a growl of determination, taking off running despite wanting to just lay down and praying that the pain went away.

He knew it wasn’t going to go away, and he prayed to God that his theory was correct, lest he be wrong and end up paying the price for it with his body with someone that wasn’t his Mate.

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It took much longer than Mini had anticipated, but he made it to the place next to the creek where he had been earlier in the day, whining in pain before collapsing, closing his eyes as he rested for a moment.

He barely had the strength to lift his head, letting out a pained howl, making sure it was loud enough for anyone near him to hear before letting his head fall, his senses clouded from the heat that was practically boiling him from within.

He just wanted the heat to go away.

Without thinking, he crawled his way towards the water, unable to keep his head high enough above to stop the water that would fill his lungs if not careful, crawling in further, feeling slight relief as his body temperature dropped quickly from the cool water that enveloped him, his mind clearing slightly, closing his eyes in relief.

The sound of someone jumping in the water, and then teeth latching around his scruff was what dragged him from his temporary relief, barely able to fight back because of how little of energy he had, coughing up water as he was dropped against the bank of the creek by someone.

That’s when hands were sliding under his jaw, the other going to the side of his head, forcing him to look up at the person that was now on their knees before him, their eyes glowing an icy blue in the dark.

He didn’t even notice his body shift back to human, crying out as he was lifted up, basically cradled against his ‘savior’s’ chest.

“I’ve got you,” Tyler spoke in hushed tones, “You’re gonna be alright”

The warmth of the Alpha’s body combined with his soothing voice put Mini to sleep almost instantly, his heat-muddled body drained of too much energy to even try to stay awake a moment longer.

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“How could you NOT tell that he was going through a heat?!” A female voice rang out the next time Mini woke, his body still feeling hot, but not nearly as hot as before, hearing a growl from someone else, keeping his mouth shut as he listened to them speak, “He tried to drown himself to take the heat away, and you, being who you are, decide to bring him back to YOUR territory because you’re so blind to scents that you couldn’t tell that your own mate had been triggered into a heat because of you and him fighting earlier in the day?! what were you thinking?!”

“He was soaking wet!” Tyler’s voice rang out, Mini feeling shock course through his system as he did, “I brought him back here to make sure that he was actually going to live after his attempt at drowning himself! how was I supposed to know that he’d only been trying to get rid of something he can’t control, and not actually trying to kill himself?!”

“What did you see before you saved him?” The other voice spoke again, “What did you hear?”

“I don’t know!” Tyler sounded frantic, scared almost, “I heard him cry out, and when I actually saw him, he was underwater! he didn’t even try to stop me from dragging him out, I thought he was nearly dead is why I brought him here, not because he was going through his heat!”

“Did you learn NOTHING when you went through your training? what was his temperature? do you remember?”

“He was...” Tyler trailed off, Mini basically feeling the satisfaction of being right coming off the other wolf before Tyler spoke again, “...He was burning up”

“And after all you’ve done to make sure nothing like this could happen,” The other spoke, sighing, “You knew that it was inevitable, Tyler. Tell me; what are you going to do now?”

“What can I do?” Tyler spoke, sounding on the verge of tears, “I can’t take him back to his own pack if...if I...you know...”

“Say it” The other spoke sternly, Tyler growling as they did, “NOW”

“You know I can’t mate with him!” Tyler blurted out finally, “I am not his Alpha--”

“You’re right, you’re not his Alpha,” The voice spoke, Mini hearing as they walked away, hearing a door open before they spoke again, “You are his mate, Tyler. Are you really willing to let your Mate go through the pain that he’s feeling alone? what do you think that says about you as a person? As the one that he’s destined to be with?”

“Mom--”

“Don’t argue with me. You know what you have to do, what you have to say, and I’m not going to hold your hand while you do it. You brought this upon yourself, now make things right with the one that you love”

“We don’t even know each other! what am I supposed to say?!”

There was no response, Mini hearing the door close before hearing Tyler let out an agitated huff of air, cracking his eyes open, watching as Tyler walked over to a window next to where he was laying.

“What am I going to do?” Tyler barely spoke above a whisper, closing his eyes as he gripped the windowsill, “What am I going to do?”

That’s when Mini let out a small whine, Tyler whipping his head around, Mini barely having the strength to move his fingers, watching as Tyler moved over to where he was quickly, watching as the Alpha kneeled down beside him, shivering at the hand that was placed against his face, closing his eyes as he leaned into the cool touch.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler whispered, hanging his head as he let out a hiss of air, not sure of what to say, not sure of what to do, “I never meant for you to suffer like this”

“What’s...” Mini spoke, shaking his head, trying to sit up, Tyler pushing him back down with ease from how little strength he had, “What’s going on with me?”

“My Mom gave you a shot of suppressant stuff so that you wouldn’t feel as if you were burning from the inside out,” Tyler answered, Mini humming as he did, “Though, I must warn you; it’s not a permanent fix”

“I know,” Mini answered, his head clearing a little more since he’d woken up, “I just...I just wish you hadn’t lied to me”

“What?”

“After we fought,” Mini spoke, narrowing his eyes slightly, “You told me that I wasn’t allowed to know who my mate was. Because of that, I’m in the situation I am now”

“Neither of us knew that you were going to be triggered into a heat just because of our meeting”

“No, but that doesn’t mean that you had any right to keep the truth from me”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d been watching you from afar, you know. I just didn’t want you to pursue trying to find out what I was to you because of us being from different Packs, that’s all”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Mini growled, his eyes flashing a bright green as he did, Tyler turning his head to look at him as he did, “You already know what happens when a destined pair is away from the other for too long. This isn’t the only thing that happens when they meet up again, you know”

“Unlike you, I don’t know what happens,” Tyler growled, “I told you when we were little, I wasn’t taught anything either than how to be what I am now. If I even suggested talking about something like that? I was told to forget it, that my mate didn’t need to think about that sort of thing, because it wouldn’t ever happen!”

“That was your Father’s fault,” Tyler’s Mom spoke as she walked into the room again, smiling as she looked at Craig, frowning when she looked at her son, “He never let me answer any questions you may have...questions that I knew you wanted the answers to”

“What are you talking about?”

“The lore behind never having a mate outside of a pack...it’s not a lie,” She spoke, sighing as she did, “In fact, there has never been a story of someone having a mate that was not born in their pack”

“What are you saying, Mom?”

“I’m saying that it’s not a mistake that Craig is not of your Pack...as of now,” She spoke, looking away as she did, Mini feeling confusion and fear welling in his chest, wanting to know what was going on, what she was saying, “It was a...a decision your Father made, that I tried to stop at all costs, but was unable to”

“Just tell us what you’re talking about!” Tyler spoke, hands curling into fists at his side, showing just how confused and scared he was becoming, “You’re dancing around the truth, why can’t you just say it?!”

“Your Father gave Craig away knowing that he was your Mate, Tyler,” She answered, both males looking at one another, and then back to her, “He didn’t want a son who had a male for a mate, so he gave Craig to a different pack in an attempt to stop such a thing from happening”

“How is that possible?” Mini spoke, fear basically coming off him in waves, “I hadn’t met Tyler before I was eight, and even then it wasn’t possible to know if we were mates or not, we were too little--”

“When Tyler was two and a half,” She spoke, “And you were six months old, Tyler’s Father and I went and visited your biological Parents. We set Tyler down to ‘meet’ you, be it that we wanted him to try and make a pack bond at an early age, and what we all saw is what set his Father off; Your eyes went from a dull blue, to a dark green, and Tyler’s turned light blue. They stayed that way until his Father pulled him away, and took him back home. I was left to apologize for his actions, and then his Father set his plan of...ridding you, into motion”

“Homophobic bastard,” Tyler growled at no one in particular as he kneeled back down beside his Mate, “Would explain why he never let me be around you for more than necessary, Mom”

“I don’t understand,” Mini spoke, “You can’t just give a child to a different pack, so how was it possible?”

“You were taken from your Parents by force,” She spoke, looking away with narrowed eyes as she did, “They tried prevent it, to protect you, but...”

“Luna?” Mini asked, his instinct to be respectful towards the Luna standing before him overriding how he felt at that moment, “What happened to my actual parents?”

Two wolves from your current pack...stole you, in the middle of the night. Your parents went to Tyler’s father, to have him do something to get you back, but he refused, in fact boasting about having them take you away to keep his son ‘from becoming what he wasn’t allowed to be’ because of you being his Mate. Your parents went after you, to try and find you, but...they never came back”

That’s when the door to the room they were in opened, seeing how a smaller male in a blue hoodie was standing there, Tyler’s mother standing up and facing him as he looked to her.

“Yes, what is it?” She asked, the smaller male letting out a sigh before he spoke.

“The- the Luna from the neig- neighboring pack is here,” He spoke, his stutter prominent as he looked at Craig, “She’s- she’s demanding to see him”

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(A/N): There we go! (Sorry if this sucks. I’m working on it, so please don’t hate me if it’s not that good!)

What will part 3 bring? will Craig talk with Chloe, or will he want nothing to do with her?

FIND OUT IN THE NEXT PART, BECAUSE I AIN’T SPOILING IT HERE! lmao

Love all my Readers!

[anotherfiveyears]

31: All My Love

*March 2002, Arlington, Virginia*

Dave hung up the phone and sauntered into the studio, ignoring everyone as he plugged his guitar into the amp and fiddled with the pedals at his feet, just waiting for Taylor to do or say something. He had been baiting him for almost a week at rehearsals, knowing that Taylor was beyond annoyed with him for delaying the album so many times.

They were finally back in Virginia, which was another source of contention with Taylor. He had wanted to leave LA months ago and start session work, but Dave refused to go until Anna was ready. He had kept Anna and Taylor away from each other, fearing Taylor would reveal that she was the reason the album was stalling and he just knew that would make Anna go home too soon. It wasn't until she mentioned missing her parents that he knew she could handle going back, but even then he wanted her to take things slowly.

Taylor didn't understand why Dave was so eager to put Anna's needs above the band's when they weren't even a couple, but Dave didn't consider that his problem. Besides, when he wasn't with Anna, he was out in the desert with Josh working on the new Queens album and loving every second of it. He had forgotten how much he loved being a drummer and Anna had found a certain kind of therapy in surfing, so there was no hurry on either of their parts to race back to Virginia just because Taylor was getting antsy.  Winter had come and gone, now Spring was winding down and they were only just beginning to hash out some potential singles for the record.

Chris shifted awkwardly on his feet, his eyes darting from Taylor to Dave to Nate and then back to Taylor again before he finally took a deep breath. "Hey, I can cut the tension in here with a fucking knife. What the fuck is going on?"

Dave kept his eyes down at his pedals, but widely smirked at Chris's remark. "I think Taylor used baking soda to cut..."

"What the fuck did you say?" Taylor hopped off the stool and kicked it backward, sending it crashing to the concrete floor with a deafening clatter.

"I said-" Dave spun around to confront him, only to watch Nate and Chris drop their guitars and head for the door.

"What is your fucking problem?" Taylor screamed in his face. "We finally get a chance to rehearse and you act like a fucking dick!"

"I'm a dick? You're the one breathing down my neck all the fucking time! I can't even get through a fucking phone call without you pounding on the fucking window!"

"That was Josh on the phone, wasn't it?" Taylor spat and Dave almost laughed at how much he sounded like a jealous girlfriend. "You spend all your time with them and every other second is spent with Anna while-"

"Don't you fucking dare, Hawkins," he warned with as much venom as he could muster. "She just went through-"

"And I didn't? Did you not just sit in some dingy fucking hospital room with me for weeks on end? Do you not realize that this is what's going to keep me out of the shit, Dave?" Taylor stepped back and waved his arm towards the instruments laid randomly around the room. "All I want to do is work, man. I want something steady in my life that I can look forward to so I don't have the urge to go back."

It was only then that Dave felt like maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he had put Taylor further back on the priority list than he deserved to be. "We can finish these sessions, but I'm already committed to Queens," he said honestly. There was no getting out of drumming on the album or the tour now.

Taylor nodded, his eyes never leaving Dave's. "No, man. That's cool. Once we finish the gigs, I'm out. I need something dependable."

Dave felt his heart sink and his blood boil all at the same time. Fucking drummers. "Great."

"Yep."

*

Dave stormed through the front door, slamming it behind him so hard that the pictures on the wall rattled loudly. Scooter's paws eagerly tapping on the hardwood floors greeted him, but when he came around the corner he took one look at Dave and slid to a stop, clumsily turning around so he could retreat back to Anna. Even the dog couldn't stand to be around him now.

Hurling his keys on to the kitchen counter, he began to search through the cabinets."Anna! Where's the fucking whiskey?"

The silence that greeted him sent him into a fury, slamming one cabinet door so hard that it splintered the wood away from its hinges

"David."

Her calm voice did nothing to sedate him."What?!" he yelled, only then feeling bad for taking everything out on her and looked over his shoulder to see her patiently holding the bottle he was looking for. They held each other's stare for a moment before she retrieved a glass from the cabinet beside her and poured him a drink, sliding across the countertop and into his hand. She waited until he had downed it, then pulled out the barstools for them to sit on along with another glass for herself. They sat together in silence, drinking half the bottle between them before he was ready to speak.

"Taylor quit."

The color drained from Anna's face and she took a long sip. "Why?"

Dave just shook his head, too scared to tell her the truth. If she knew Taylor was pissed about all the time he spent with her, she would leave again.

"Why, David?" she repeated.

"He's jealous! He's pissed that I'm working with Josh and not spending all my time with him and the band and the record and... He's just way out of fucking line."

"Is he?"

"What?" he set his empty glass in front of him and looked at her in surprise.

"You're asking a lot of them, David. Of Taylor and Chris and Nate. You wander off to party with Josh and company and now you're asking them to sit on their hands for who knows how long until you're done earning money for another group? How fair is that?"

"They knew that when they signed up for this gig," he spat at her. "They fucking knew I was in demand as a drummer."

"Good," she said sweetly and stood up from her seat. "Then you'll have no problems drumming in your own band now, cause you're sure as hell not going to find someone like Taylor before Coachella."

*April 2002, Indio, California*

"Would you just go talk to him?" Anna shoved him a little on the shoulder when he spotted Taylor's blonde hair in the crowd just outside the RV they had rented for the weekend.

"I don't wanna," he said petulantly, making Anna roll her eyes.

"Fine," she stepped around him and wrenched open the window. "Hey, Hawkins!" she screamed, waving when he spun around at the sound of her voice. "Get in here!"

"Goddamnit, Anna," Dave groaned and retreated back to the bedroom to try and think of what he could possibly say to fix this.

"Anna Banana!" Taylor yelled and bounced up the steps into the RV, throwing his arms around her in a tight hug. "I never see you anymore! Dave keeps you locked away like some..." He trailed off when Dave stepped out of the bedroom and let Anna go.

She stood between them, carefully gauging the tension before deciding they probably wouldn't exchange blows if she left. "Well, I'm gonna go catch The Vines. You two have fun!"

"How's she doing?" Taylor asked once she was gone and flopped down into a bench seat.

Dave slid into the booth across from him and leaned onto his elbows. "She's okay. She has her moments, but she's back to being Anna again."

"She's not wearing her ring... You guys make it official yet?"

"Nope," Dave sighed. "Still roomies."

"Aw, she'll get there, man," Taylor offered. "Just give her a little more time."

Dave nodded and began to fidget, scratching at a stain on the Formica table between them.

"So, how's Josh?" Taylor suddenly asked, making Dave groan.

"Come on, T. Let's not do this."

"I'm just asking as a friend, man! I miss that... us... being friends."

Dave's stare went from the table top to Taylor's face, thinking the conversation might be easier than he expected. "Yeah, me too," he started, then spoke quickly before he lost the nerve. "Look, T... I'm sorry. About the album and putting you guys off and all that shit I said in the studio... I was an asshole."

Taylor sat silently, then raised his eyebrows and waved his hand to get him to continue.

"... and I don't want you to quit. I really don't, but I have to finish this shit with Queens."

"Fuck, dude," Taylor whined and put his head in his hands.

"Dude, just... it would mean a lot to me if you'd watch the set tonight. We'll have a good time tonight, play the gig tomorrow and we can just... be done."

Taylor sighed deeply and threw his head back into the wood veneer wall behind him. "Yeah, okay," he said quietly.

*

That night, Dave channeled every ounce of anger and frustration he had accumulated in the past few months and threw it into the kit, earning a surprised glance from Josh during the opener and then an excited smile when the desert crowd exploded in front of them. The entire set was flawless and fun, and he was just beginning to think it wouldn't be so hard to break up the Foo Fighters when he saw Anna and Taylor at stage left, both of them grinning and nodding along to the music. The anger suddenly dissipated and he began to play because he loved it, not because he had something to prove.

During the party backstage, he felt the familiar buzz of the music industry discovering fresh meat and managed to corner Josh long enough to break the news that he wouldn't return for a second album.

"Is it Taylor? He's fucking pissed, isn't he," Josh asked and took a drag of his cigarette.

"Yeah," Dave sighed and ran his hand through his sweat soaked hair. "He's struggling."

"Don't worry about it, man," Josh shrugged and Dave thought maybe he was being sarcastic. It just couldn't be that easy.

"What?"

"Man, you did me a fucking favor by playing even one song on my record. If you gotta go, you go. We can get a session guy in for the rest of the tour."

Dave stared at him for a long moment, stunned at how chill he was about the entire thing, then almost tackled him to the dirt in a hug.

"You gotta promise me we'll doing something in the future, though," Josh said through his laugh. "Maybe we can score a Beatle or one of the guys from Queen."

"Yeah, I'd love that," Dave nodded and let him go. "But let's get one of the guys from Zeppelin."

They both laughed at how impossible that sounded and wandered back into the party.

*

When he and Anna finally made it back to the RV, he groaned and began to throw back the cushions around the table so he could turn it into the bed he had slept in the night before, but Anna pulled him upright.

"No," she said firmly and spun him around by the shoulders to shove him down the narrow hallway towards the bedroom. "You had a hell of a night and have an even bigger day tomorrow. You take the bed."

He fell forward onto the mattress, his voice muffled by the blankets, "I have to take a shower first."

"Do those six bottles of water you dumped over yourself during the set not count?" she laughed and began to pull off his shoes. "Taylor kept singing the Flashdance song."

Once his shoes were off, he rolled onto his back. "Did he say anything else? Did he like the set?"

She shot him a questioning look and pulled a towel out of a cabinet to throw at him. "He told you he loved it, David."

"Yeah, but that was to my face. I want to know what he really thinks."

"I think he honestly loved it. He knew the songs, sang a little and even air drummed along with you," she giggled a little at the memory. "He's got a great voice! Do you need help with your shirt?"

Dave smiled up at her, thrilled that Taylor had like the set. "Yeah, my arms are useless right now."

"'Kay, sit up," she straddled his knees and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head and then huffed when he got tangled in the sleeves. "You gotta work with me, David!"

"I'm trying!" he whined, then laughed when she swore in frustration.

Once he was free of the fabric, she tossed it aside and sat back on his knees to glare at him, but when his hands went to her hips the mood shifted from light to something very different. The music from the main stage drifted through the open window and Anna smiled down at him when she recognized Siouxsie and the Banshee.

"Just like old times, huh," she said softly and rested her hands on his shoulders.

He stared at her, wondering if he would have made it through the stress and anxiety of the weekend without her. "I'm really happy you're here, Annie."

"Me too," she whispered and leaned into him, kissing him softly at first before pulling away.

"Anna...," he started, searching her face for any clue as to what she was feeling but she only looked worried.

"Can we do this?" she asked, then shook her head a little realizing it was a stupid question. "I mean, do you still want... me?" The last word came out as a shy squeak and she looked down to hide her red cheeks.

He ducked as much as he could to see her face and squeezed his hands over her hips. "I never stopped wanting this, Annie. Not for a moment."

Her eyes snapped back to his and filled with tears, though he had seen enough of her tears in the past six months to know these were different. These weren't tears of anguish and anger, they were tears of relief. She pulled him to her and kissed him again, leaning into him until he was laying back on the mattress. He slid his hands from her hips underneath her loose t-shirt to unclip her bra, but couldn't find the clip... or a bra for that matter. He whined against her lips, in actual physical pain from wanting her so badly and she took mercy by quickly unbuckling his belt and slipping her hand down the front of his camo cargo shorts.

"Fuck, Anna," he moaned when her fingers brushed against him but they both froze when they heard the RV door swing open.

"Dave? It's Taylor!"

In one swift move, he sat up while Anna rolled off of him and onto the floor, laying perfectly still in the tiny space between the bed and the wall.

"Whoa, you okay, man?" Taylor asked from the bedroom door, unable to see Anna from where he was standing.

"Yeah, just tired from the set," Dave said quickly and leaned forward to hide any evidence that Anna had just been all over him. Cold showers, a kick in the nuts, that time Gus forgot a towel and wandered around in front of everyone totally naked, he thought, eventually calming himself down enough to stand and actually listen to what Taylor was saying.

"... you were really great up there, man. Can we... you know... talk?"

"Yeah... let me just grab a shirt and we can take a walk." Dave casually walked back into the bedroom while Taylor waited. He pulled a shirt out of his suitcase and felt Anna's hand around his ankle, looking down at her as she silently laughed from the carpet. Dropping to his knees, he covered Anna's body with his own. "I'll be right back," he breathed. "Don't go anywhere." She nodded and kissed him, making him hop up as fast as he could before he had to focus on Gus's naked ass again to kill yet another Anna-induced hard-on.

Taylor frowned when Dave shut the bedroom door behind him. "Hey, where's Anna? I thought she came back here with you."

"She wanted to catch the Siouxsie set," Dave offered. "She's been a big fan since she was a kid."

*

"Anna...," Dave sang her name softly into the dark motorhome but stumbled up the steps and onto the carpeted floor with a loud thud. "Ow! Shit!"

He heard her grumble and the bed squeak when she turned over, but she was still after that. Goddamnit, he thought. Of course she fell asleep.

He and Taylor had walked around the entire backstage area at least five times before they finally came to the conclusion that they would readdress Taylor quitting after the gig tomorrow, but regardless of the outcome they would still remain friends. With the last huge stress off his shoulders, he crawled down the narrow hallway to the back room and up onto the bed.

"Annie...," he whispered, tasting pure tequila on his own breath. Jesus, how many shots did we do? he thought.

"David?" she stirred and rolled onto her back. "Hey, kitten. How'd it go?" she gave him a sleepy smile and sat up a little, revealing her black push up bra.

"Is that for me, Annie?" he asked, reaching out to hook his finger under the shoulder strap.

"David...," she laughed and ran her fingers through his hair once he crawled close enough.  "You're drunk!"

"Only a little," he frowned, worried she might not want to fool around with him anymore, but she pulled his face to hers and kissed him deeply, then giggled when he scrambled under the covers with her.

There was no way he would have said it sober, but the tequila swimming around in his blood thought it was the perfect comment to end the evening. "When are you gonna be ready to marry me and start on those eight kids?"

She hummed a little laugh against his chest then stretched against him so she could kiss his throat.

"Give me another five years, kitten."

[bat-besties]

On Impossibility - 6

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3    Chapter 4   Chapter 5  Chapter 7  Chapter 8 Chapter 9

A popular!Logan and loser!Roman high school AU based on @2pointomg’s idea with eventual Prinxiety. 

impossible 

ɪmˈpɒsɪb(ə)l

adjective

·       not able to occur, exist, or be done.

Eg. It is impossible to fund both the sports and drama programmes with the school’s limited budget.

·       very difficult to deal with.

Eg. The situation which Logan Sanders, Student Body President, is in after he convinced the school board to cut the unsuccessful drama programmes is impossible.

·       (of a person) very unreasonable.

Eg. Roman Prince.

To Roman, nothing is impossible. Not following his older brother Patton to acting college, not being a loser taking on the school’s popular Student Body President and definitely not writing and performing an epic school play with no money and six cast and crew members.

Edited by @alpacasarethegreenestanimal, who has an amazing fanfiction on AO3! If you like superheroes, sarcasm and Virgil angst then you’ll love this

@toolazytothinkofcreativename

@entitydark

@romanasanders

@barclays-sides

@cashmeredragon

@jughead-is-canonically-aroace

@immacrazyfangirl

@narniasfinestavengingsociopath

@featuredfander

@what-a-catch-joe

@mightaswellenthuseaboutbooks

@candiukas​

@whatamessofwords 

@zoalis

So close. They were so close.

‘Then this I say, oh noble knight, if you let go of your anger then you could be great. Give up the light – it is so comfortable here in the dark. Vines to hold you close, the canopy to shade you, thorns to protect you. Does the light not burn you?’

Kyle had a blanket cape round his shoulders and was jutting his chin confrontationally towards Roman. His pose was perfect, he knew his lines inside out, and his emphasis was just as Roman had imagined it when writing the speech late at night in his bedroom.

Roman suddenly broke out of character, running his hand through his hair. ‘That was great – really, really. Could we run it again? There’s just – you’ve just got to really feel it.’ Roman hated to be that guy – Kyle had been great, and their priority was to get a feel for the new set and adjust their blocking for the stage. But he had to be perfect. Roman would make him perfect no matter what it took, for although he knew the role was one which stretched his friend he had faith in him to get it right. All through workshopping a boy called Raphael had dominated Ombretto, throwing him into dramatic confrontation with Rosso and drawing him back into introspective monologues. To be honest, it had hurt Roman greatly when Raphael left ‘due to creative differences’ and Kyle had to be pulled from the role of Giallo, but he much preferred his friend’s delivery because he had learnt from Patton the importance of an actor subordinating themselves to the character.  

It was six o’clock on a Saturday night and they had been there all day assembling the set, but Kyle ran the lines again - with more feeling. It wasn’t good enough for Roman, but then again hardly anything was. They moved on and he saw Talyn give Kyle encouraging finger guns from the wings. Kyle returned a small smile. Everyone was tired, but Roman had asked them to run through the whole thing again, so they had. While Patton’s entire year would go to the moon and back for him, Roman’s few friends would paint the Kuiper belt rainbow if he asked them to.

They should have gone home and caught up on homework after putting up the set, but the beauty of the set had transported Roman into ecstasies of inspiration, and he doubted Virgil would leave until the building was shut. The boy for once in his life was not scrolling through Tumblr, listening to music or fiddling with his sweater paws. He just sat starry-eyed in the front row of the seating, hunched forward in his over-sized hoody as he tried to hide a grin behind his hands.

The set Virgil had built was amazing. Fate had finally given the theatre troupe a helping hand as Dahlia’s neighbours had spare planks of wood from a loft extension they had not technically forbidden her from taking. Virgil had understood the aesthetic of Talyn’s designs and had decided to play around with the handmade nature of the set. Basically, it looked like the child of a Victorian toy theatre and the illustrations in a book of fairy tales raised by a goth/steampunk in the hedge of thorns from Sleeping Beauty. Or that’s how Virgil had pitched it. Originally there had been a scaffolding tower, but they had to improvise with the tall metal balcony from West Side Story Patton had once sung on so happily.

Virgil was weirdly proud of himself. He tried to be self-deprecating about his set, however he couldn’t help but be happy with it. Logan had always been complimentary about his work, but he did not have a great understanding of art, and Virgil had suspected the positive feedback was a key bullet point in the Word document ‘How to Get Self-doubting Friend to Apply for College.’ In contrast his new friends had very high standards, so a single nice word from Talyn would go around his head for days and days. Roman had been extremely exacting – a picture of the cliff from the Nightmare before Christmas had literally been ripped off Virgil’s mood board because the smoothness of it ‘didn’t fit the vibe, the emotion’ of the play – and now he was playing in the set like a kid in a candy store. Virgil understood it now, Logan and Roman’s drive for perfection. Oh sure, Logan was a textbook perfectionist and Roman was slapdash and confident in his own abilities, but in his own way the actor was just as meticulous about his work. The play – not yet named because there was not something which fit it well enough – was his baby. And while the set was a part of that brainchild it was Virgil’s own – baby was a weird comparison, it was just…he just had lots of feelings about it he hadn’t had for anything else before, OK? The exercise in 3D space was interesting.  

At 22:00, a janitor finally came around. He peeked his head into the auditorium, then walked into it fully. Kyle was perched on the balcony, which was festooned with sequinned purple fabric vines, and Roman was kneeling in centre stage entreating him to come down, framed by chaotic brambles the size of tree trunks and twisted metal spider webs throwing bizarre shadows onto the wall behind him, covered with sheer green fabric donated by Mrs Damon. He looked at Virgil, who was entranced by the scene.

‘Hey kid, you part of this?’ he spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the actors. Virgil looked up at him and nodded with a grin.

‘Good on you, kid. I told you that you shouldn’t use your drawing skills for rude caricatures. And now look at you!’

Virgil was rapidly beginning to lose his sense of mystery and magic. ‘That…that was not me. I told you, and I told the principal that that drawing wasn’t by me.’

The janitor took off his hat and sat next to Virgil in a fatherly manner. ‘If you didn’t draw that cartoon, then why was it on your locker, heh?’

Trying to be absorbed into the tear in the seat covering, Virgil gave the man an exasperated look.

‘Well, I’m here to ask you guys to leave. You need to sleep!’ replied the janitor brightly, completely unfazed by Virgil’s silence. He leaned in even closer to him. ‘How long is there left?’

‘Fif-een min’tes.’ was mumbled from behind a wall of purple hair.

‘Fine. You guys promise to look up, then you can have the time.’

‘Thks.’

‘Careful of that balcony. Bit rickety.’ With that Malcom headed into the hallway again, marvelling at the impact that simple sentence of his had made on that punk kid. Permanent sharpie and Tipp-ex on that locker as well. Sometimes kids just need a bit of self-belief.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, Roman bounded off the stage and thundered up to Virgil. Ignoring the fact that Virgil was putting into practice everything he’d learnt trying to disengage Malcom, he grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. ‘A cheer for Virgil!’ he yelled to the others.

There were scattered cheers from the cast and crew as they cleared up. ‘Visionary, visionary!’ shouted Roman, throwing his hands in the air.

Virgil blushed. ‘What does that even mean?’

Roman threw himself down on the gangway, pulling the emo down beside him. ‘One who has unique visions!’

Virgil looked at him sceptically. ‘I’m sure that’s not the exact definition.’

‘We can’t all be the calculator watch, can we?’ The annoyance entering Roman’s voice was jarring.

There was a beat of awkward silence as Virgil refused to forgive Roman or defend Logan.

Brightly, Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand and admired his nail polish. He looked up at Virgil and whispered, ‘Visionary, visionary.’ Over his knuckles.

Virgil recoiled and stood up. ‘What the ever-loving fuck was that?!’

Roman face-palmed. ‘It was meant to be…friendly.’

‘It was really weird! And not friendly! That was not in the realm of friendly!’

Roman rocketed to his feet, ‘Sorry to break it to you Virgil, but just because I’m gay, it doesn’t mean that I’m flirting with every straight guy I talk to!’

‘How is that-? It wasn’t- I didn’t even know that! Anyway, I’m not straight either.’

‘Well, fine. I’m not.’ Roman put his hands on his hips.

‘Fine!’

‘Fine!’

The two stood angrily staring at each other before dissolving into laughter.

‘How could you think I was straight?’ howled Roman, ‘And you’re not either? Yes!’ he punched the air.

Virgil was bent over, clutching his stomach. ‘I…I didn’t want to assume…’

Dahlia came up the gangway halfway, since the rest of it was blocked by two dorks rolling around on the floor. ‘We’re going to head, if you guys could lock up.’ Breathlessly, Roman waved her on.

Once the two came to they sat up, lounging against the seating.

Roman studiously didn’t look at Virgil as he spoke to him. ‘Your set – I love it.’

‘I know.’ The emo smirked at him, ‘you spent all evening playing in it.’

Roman’s hand shot to his chest as he gasped, ‘PLAYING! How dare you? I was acting!’ he made a point to gesture dramatically to signal his thespian talent. He put his hand down and turned to Virgil. ‘I do, though,’ he said earnestly, ‘it’s beautiful, and dark, and creepy, and fantastical, and better than I could ever have hoped for. We can do this – we can put on this play.’

Virgil’s insides twisted as he looked at the boy across from him, his face desaturated and pupils dilated by the dark. He wasn’t so sure of success. The costumes needed to be big and bold, and that meant lots of fabric and shiny things in elaborate designs. They had asked to use the black fabric which backed the curtain but had unsurprisingly been turned down, and money from rainbow T-shirt sales had covered enough for a dirndl for Margherita bought online and a shimmery brown and green leotard for the malevolent fairy (nicknamed Bob) after the set had been built, but for now the magnificent hoop skirts of the Evil Queen and flowing robe of Ombretto were impossible to realise.

‘Virgil?’

The emo snapped his eyes from Roman’s face. ‘Yeah. Let’s not count on…let’s not give on up this.’ He made eye contact again. ‘I believe in you. Or whatever. Dork.’

Roman smiled to himself a little. ‘And here I was thinking you were some massive edgelord.’

Virgil raised his eyebrows. ‘You saw my Nightmare before Christmas poster.’

‘True.’ Roman grinned, ‘But you were too cool for my Randy Newman impression.’

Virgil giggled. ‘You had a cowboy hat. And a pink plastic radio. And you were fifteen.’

‘I took it seriously! I wanted to be your friend.’ Roman emphasised each word.

‘Well, I wanted you to stop singing before I cringed myself a six-pack.’

They sat in silence for a while, neither wanting to suggest leaving.

‘I don’t know what I’m going to do with my future.’ Virgil’s head was flung back to look at the set, and his voice was soft.

Roman rolled onto his stomach, supporting his head on his hands. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘This.’

Roman put his hand on Virgil’s and smiled at him reassuringly, ‘Then do it. This is good.’

‘I…’ Virgil took a shaky breath. ‘I can’t. I’m not good enough.’

‘Virgil. I have been to four Broadway shows and twenty-three shows in other towns. I watch bootlegs like other kids watch let’s plays. I read about this stuff. I think you could easily design for a smaller show, and once you go to college…Broadway, baby.’

Virgil felt something suspiciously like hope rise to fill his chest. ‘Why would they take someone like me? From a school like this, which isn’t particularly keen on the arts, if you hadn’t noticed.’

‘Virgil – you have Mrs Damon who would write a book about you, let alone a recommendation letter. You’ve got this production, which will make one hell of an essay. The school is academic, and your grades are good. Besides, Patton did it – my older brother.’

‘I guess. But wasn’t he like some genius or something?’

It was Roman’s turn to break eye contact. ‘Yeah, he is. But we don’t need to be scholarship holders like him or anything. Just good enough.’

Virgil sat up, ‘You’re worried about acting school, princey? Big brother in New York and half-a-billion extracurriculars. Please.’

‘No extracurriculars now. But yes, of course I’m worried. I want to go to the same place as Patton, when we went to check it out with him it was…magical. These past few years it’s like he’s living every single dream I have. And I’m happy for him! I am! I’m super proud, but I don’t want to apply and be rejected, and he’ll be super nice about it…you know.’

‘Do your parents compare you a lot?’

‘No, god no.’ Roman shook his head emphatically. ‘They’re incredibly proud of both of us. It’s me. I do. And I know I shouldn’t…’

He broke off and tried to hide the fact that he was crying. The emo scooted closer and awkwardly pulled him into a loose hug, at which point Roman attached himself to Virgil’s hoodie like a baby koala.

‘Aw, jeez. Come on, dude. Don’t make me give a heartfelt speech. Just like, know, that I think you’re - good.’

‘Huh! Yeah, I am pretty good! Thanks for reminding me, J-Delightful.’ Roman pulled himself up and punched Virgil in the shoulder.

‘Alright, dudebro.’

The boy slumped again. ‘Arggggg. Now you think everything is fine!’

‘You do not look like everything is fine.’

‘Well, yeah, no.’

Virgil just wanted to paint and listen to emo music and be left alone. Why the hell was he landed with looking after overachievers?

‘Wanna come to my house tonight? We could watch Disney, or whatever. My parents would be happy I have someone to invite over.’

‘I would love that! I’ll text the old parents…Odin’s eyepatch! It’s eleven already! We’d better hurry!’

That night as Roman was spread-eagled on his bedroom floor, Virgil tried not to think of the lack of money for costumes, but they joined the usual procession of Logan’s eye bags, situations in which his set would collapse and his plan for the future which marched round his head whenever he tried to sleep.

Increasingly old-school Disney songs sung in bass, a voice passionately and loudly delivering lines or unaffectedly and quietly trying to explain ideas had echoed around his darkened bedroom too, but he preferred to not think about that.

[feelingsinwinterold]

The Mountain’s Crown - Chapter 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

The Mountain’s Crown, or the Crown as the man called it, was some kind of haven for creatures, magical or common. War mounts were grazing peacefully in the hills near the house without the presence of a penn to keep them safe and around. There were some war dogs too, resting or trotting enthusiastically around the man and looking up to him like he was their savior.

Which, Bucky thought with a frown, might be the truth.

Since the man, Tony, had agreed to keep them around until he thought them trustworthy enough to let them leave without risking the lives of his guests, Bucky, Clint and Steve had seen… incredibles things.

[beware the read more ! <3]

At first and during the very first day, Bucky and Steve had found they actually had to fight Tony in order to keep him in bed. He also discovered that Tony could compete with Steve’s stubbornness which was definitely not fun considering Bucky thought himself free of fighting injured little shits unable to stay in bed for their own sake. He would have find it a sweet revenge on Steve for all those days the punk had put Bucky through hell and back if Bucky hadn’t had to participate in the battles.

For a split second, Bucky had considered tying Tony to his bed and be done with it but, like he always does, Steve had guessed exactly what had went through his boyfriend’s mind and glanced at him. The disappointment in those baby blues was thicker than Steve’s head, which was saying something. It was all it took to swipe the idea away.

Bucky was a weak man when confronted by boyfriends and willing to admit it. If just to himself.

A the end of the first day, Steve and Bucky had to add a fourth bed in their room in order to keep Clint and Tony in check.

Because as soon as Steve and Bucky had their back turned to fight Tony and keeping him in bed, Clint had used the opportunity to sneak out. Of-fucking-course he had.

When they weren’t taking care of Tony and Clint and more or less certain one or the other wouldn’t leave his bed to wander around, Steve and Bucky were outside and managing the haven. As best as they could, anyway. The number of chores the man did, all by himself, was astonishing.

When he had a moment to spare, Bucky wondered how Tony had done it without someone to help him. Steve and him were both young men in good conditions and despite being used to rougher days, they still fell asleep as soon as their head hit their pillow, exhaustion deeply settled in their limbs.

Until Tony was finally freed from staying in bed. Then, they saw him in action.

As soon as Tony was out and about, the griffin, the roc bird and the wyvern started helping. It was fascinating. Like dancers whirling over and around Tony, helping with the ease of a well oiled team. The wyvern, Trisha, was a new addition to it and it showed, but she was doing well despite her considerable size.

There were others creatures at the Mountain’s Crown aside from the horses, the dogs and what Bucky had started to refer as the Crown’s guardians. Steve, Bucky and Clint knew there were but Tony had refused to tell anything to them about those other guests.

“It’s already a bad thing that you know about Trisha, Peter and Birdy, I won’t put others at risk if I can help it,” he had said, gaze steady and focused. The warrior who had fought against Bucky and held his ground was staring at them, ready to fight if necessary. The fighter was obvious in all his strength and resolution.

They’d bowed out of that argument, despite Bucky’s reluctance. It was the only time Tony would be allowed out of his bed for the days he was supposed to rest. During his recovery, Bucky and Steve had taken upon taking care of the creatures residing outside the house, feeding them, cleaning if necessary while Tony took care of the inside guests.

It’s how they understood the true expanse of the Wyvern’s intelligence. As long as they took care of the haven, she brought a considerable amount of trash for them to clean. Bringing a new carcass as soon as they were done with the former one.

Steve and Bucky truly understood how much she had fucked with them, the very first day Tony went back to the outside work. As he came upon the disgusting remains of the unknown thing “Trisha” had hunted that day, Tony arched an eyebrow at her and asked her to get rid of it herself. She had done it. In a heartbeat. As simple as that. Flapping her wings and grabbing the remains with her back paws, she carried it somewhere else and that was it.

When she came back, Tony instantly scolded her over it, asking her where that behavior came from and overall acting like a father chiding his behaving child.

She looked ashamed in front of him, lowering her eyes to the ground and shuffling awkwardly on her front digits until he huffed out fondly, patted her on the snout and headed somewhere else. The second Tony had his back turned, she smirked smugly at Bucky and Steve, the hint of pointy teeth not nearly as threatening as the mischievous glint in her eyes.

The ridiculous number of hours they had spent cutting and dismantling the horribly reeking carcasses she kept bringing was infuriating now that they knew the truth behind it.

With Tony now in condition to guide them, it was considerably easier to take care of the haven and its inhabitants. Funner, too. It felt as if someone had lifted a significant weight off of their shoulders. The sky seemed brighter, the air cleaner and easier to breath, the grass greener.

***

Living at the Mountain’s Crown wasn’t as bad as Bucky thought it would be.

He had had his doubts concerning Tony’s motives and the way he would be with them after their insurrection but Tony proved him wrong on each and every one of them.

Sure, Tony had been a pain in the ass to deal with when they tried to keep him in bed for his recovery but as soon as they let him go, he went back to taking care of his guests.

Kept on taking care of Clint’s injuries, pestering and glaring at them every chance he had but his gestures remained soft and careful. He was more caring than Bucky had thought he was at first, and it showed crystal clear once he stopped listening to Tony’s rants and insults. His words were roughs and hard but his eyes, while sometimes shining bright with anger, never ceased to care.

He cared enough to fight.

He had snarled at them when Bucky had refused to give Clint the medicine, it was to lighten the pain but Bucky had never seen nor scented anything like it. It was unknown, it could be dangerous and Bucky was already on edge more often than not. Pissed off, Tony had shoved the medicine at them, fury burning bright in his eyes as he spat: “Give it to him when you’re tired of seeing him in pain,” before storming out and slamming the door on his way out.

Much later, when Tony came back and found Clint asleep and his face devoid of any pain, he had smiled a tiny little thing their way. It was hard to say if it was about their show of trust or because of Clint’s peaceful, resting face, though. Probably both, Bucky thought.

They had been surprised when they realised just how good Tony’s drug was, for more than just keeping the pain at bay. Clint kept a clear mind, barely slower than usual and less sleepy than he would be with some other drugs. It was not only effective but it didn’t hinder Clint’s faculties either, it was a real relief for everyone.

“What d’you use?” Clint asked one day.

Tony had smiled, small and distracted as he changed Clint’s dressing, “I have my own recipe.”

“Will you tell me?” Clint pushed, curious and watching Tony closely.

“It depends.”

“On what?”

Tony didn’t answer immediately, focusing instead on finishing Clint’s arm’s dressing. Bucky could see the frustration building and starting to show on Clint’s face but the archer kept it at bay. Waiting, making a true effort to give space and trust to the man who’s been taking care of him since the beginning. Tony answered when he was done, looking straight at him, open and honest but no less firm and definitive:  “On you.”

With a last pat on Clint’s now bandaged arm, Tony left the room, glancing shyly at Steve and a little more warily at Bucky on his way out.

After that, and once Clint was allowed to get out of his room, everything went a little easier.

Not so surprisingly, Tony was more relaxed around Clint. He also agreed to Clint’s requests more often and more easily than he did with Steve’s or Bucky’s.

Because of one of those requests, they found themselves eating at the same table, sharing breakfast and dinner and every meal after that. With Clint, it was easy like that. He just had to say something and Tony would think about it, maybe agree instantly. When it came to Steve, it was a little more hesitant and still showing some wariness. Bucky was another matter entirely. While Tony wasn’t outright hostile, he also knew what kind of skills Bucky had and definitely aware of the threat he represented. Yet, Tony was kind and would give Bucky more than he should, more than most would and Tony wouldn’t think twice about it. There was just that knowledge, that readiness in his eyes when he looked Bucky’s way.

Tony wasn’t fooled by Steve’s easy smiles or Clint’s childiness. He was still assessing them like he said he would.

Bucky didn’t know what Tony saw when he was looking at them but it couldn’t be so bad.

***

There was a garden behind the house where vegetables and fruits grew, beautiful and healthy. It looked well taken care.

Tony went there every day but Bucky had never saw him doing anything aside from taking the available harvest.

At first, the quantities had been small but the more Clint, Steve and Bucky stayed, the more they grew until it gave enough to feed Tony and his three humans guests.

The hunt part was taken care by Peter, the griffin. In the very beginning, when Tony was still in bed rest and unable to go outside - without being chased down by them, that is - the beast would only hunt enough for Tony. It lasted until Peter realized Tony took smaller parts to share equally with them. The very next day, they had too much meat to deal with.

Their life wasn’t ideal, far from it, but the more time passed, the more it was hard to remember they were prisoners of the Mountain’s Crown until Tony trusted them enough to let them go. And the more they stayed, the more Tony opened to them and that, Bucky had found, held a higher price to him than his own liberty.

Steve had been the first to fall. Bucky had watched his old friend staring at Tony with a small smile playing on his lips as Tony took care of a spooked horse, voice soft and touch gentle. He had seen the way Steve would touch Tony’s shoulder as he passed by, or the way he would lean toward their host when he spoke. It was all written in the way Steve had stopped watching Tony carefully to look at him fondly.

Clint had followed, probably halfway there already when Tony had held him gently so that Clint could carde his fingers through Birdy’s feathers. The look of utter wonder on Clint’s face had spread warmth in Bucky’s chest, a warmth that reached far within him until it had taken a firm place and stayed there.

That day, once Clint was done marveling at the strength in the bird’s wings and the way each feather played a vital role in his flight, Tony and Clint had sat together. They talked until night had came upon them, the great bird nestled near them and keeping them warm despite the mountain’s chill.

Somewhere along the way, Bucky guessed, he had fallen too. Truth be told, it was hard to keep your heart on the line when a man like Tony was around.

Tony was kind, generous and smart, a kind of smartness Bucky had never witnessed before. There was a reserve to Tony when he was around them, it was more related to awkwardness than shyness, though. It wasn’t hard to guess Tony hadn’t seen a human being in a long time and that his last meeting hadn’t end well.

However, despite Steve and Clint’s infatuations, and Bucky’s to some degree, and the way they had started to act around him, Tony seemed to remain entirely oblivious to their affections. Reacting to Steve’s casual touching with a small smile, definitely happy to welcome Clint sprawling on his lap as soon as Tony was sitting, it was almost natural as Tony carded his fingers through Clint’s hair. He reacted to the changes in their behaviors like it was something entirely natural.

It seemed entirely too easy for Tony to lie down with Clint curled up next to him, the archer’s head nestled on his shoulder and his nose brushing against his throat. There wasn’t any awkwardness in his smile when Clint had reached around and wrapped his arm around Tony’s waist. Tony would welcome Steve or Bucky on his other side like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

It was insane how easily Tony fitted among them. It wasn’t like a missing piece had found its place but like he was simply made to be with them. How his smile could brighten Steve’s day when he felt a little loomy around the edges, how his joke and small pranks would delight Clint and distract him, how they would rant together for hours without getting tired of it.

For Bucky, it was more subtle. Tony was still careful around him, assessing him from time to time and yet… yet Tony would reach out with such easiness it was a wonder to feel his palm settle on Bucky’s shoulder. The comfort it convey was infinite.

Tony cared more than he would admit. It was written in the way he elbowed Bucky in the side and would distract him with a sharp comment if Bucky stayed away from his boyfriends for a little too long. Tony didn’t say anything, didn’t ask questions or stated what he might have guessed, but he offered what he could and most of the time it was enough to soothe whatever was troubling Bucky’s peace of mind. Sometimes Bucky would not even realize what had happened until he was snuggled with Steve or Clint, head and heart lighter than a moment ago.

You can also find it on AO3.

[cdc1345711]

Cartoon-Force Scene-The Confrontation

(It’s been a week since the Cartoon-Force’s Elites invaded the GSD and Stella killed one of their members by accident-something that has mentally hurt her-something that is making her friends worry about her)

Jack:How is Rogers doing?"

 Cynthia:She's in shock-she just killed someone"

 Jack:Taking a life is hard-especially if it's your first kill,which unsettled me the most"

Cynthia: and where is Goldenwheat?”

Jack:Knowing him-probably counseling her-why he likes her perplexes me"

Cynthia: every mammal has the side that was kept away from public. Hell even my old self would be surprised how current me falls for you” 

Jack:What?(he said confused)"

Cynthia:(Realizing what she just said)Nothing important”

Jack:Okay but Rogers will get well in time she might heal-we can only hope"

Cynthia: She will... we all did”

Jack:I was scared when I made my first kill then a few missions later I got over it but the real question is-should we tell Coburn?"

Cynthia: ...lucky for you... guess we all have our own way to deal with issue And for Coburn... if the information about him is 100% true... too risky to trigger him”

Jack:Yes-he has been known to become 'genocidal'-you read what he did to those intergalactic slavers? i'll tell you Walker not pretty"

Cynthia: but we will eventually tell him. If we keep this a secret and he finds it out on his own, there will be Hell.”

Jack:Well you're right-Coburn does have an act for knowing secret information-how else did he know about our pasts-or my real name"(knowing that he kept his real last name is Turner a secret)”

Cynthia: what is it again? It's hardly believable that bunny has name such as savage *evil grin*”

Jack:It's no concern now-so who wants to tell Coburn one of his team mates is dead?"

Cynthia: I will *still reluctant*”

Jack:No I should-he sorta respects me"

 ????:I will(the voice came from Stella rubbing her eyes dry)I killed him I should tell Coburn he's gone"

Cynthia: what? No no we should think this thoroughly. I know how you feel. I've been there before.”

Stella:I made the bed Miss Walker-it's time I lay in it"

 Zac:Her mind is set"

Jack: Zac... you convinced her? 

Cynthia: no offense Stella but you clearly are not in the right condition for this. I would like to ask you to pass this

Zac:She made the decision herself chief" 

Stella:Maybe I'm not but I killed someone just because they wanted their leader free-if Coburn attacks or forgives me I'll have a rested conscious"

Cynthia: I must correct myself... I order you to stay out of this... i'm your supervisor. It is my duty to secure your safety

Stella:And I'll have you know I'm not a child that needs protecting-I am a grown adult Miss Walker"

Cynthia: and do you wanna know the consequence of letting one taking responsibility immediately? One would get hurt and scarred for life. One would be haunted by every single kill after that! You wanna end up hurting like me?

Stella:I'm not planning on killing anyone-I did it, I'm taking responsibility-end of discussion,You're not my mother Cynthia(stares at Cynthia with angry eyes)"

Cynthia: True I'm not your mother and since I'm not, I can do this I won't feel guilty. *Walk towards Stella and gut punch her*”

Stella:aaaaah" 

Jack:(Shocked)WALKER WHAT THE HELL?" 

Zac:Why in God's name did you do that?"

Cynthia: Jack, please keep eyes on her while I'm taking care of this matter *turn back and walk off* I won't let you make the same mistake like I did *murmur*

Jack:Cynthia this is insane" 

Zac:she chose to take responsibility for her action"

Cynthia: *not facing anyone and grinding her teeth* see you later *try to leave*

Jack:CYNTHIA(catches up with her)What the Hell is wrong with you?""You just gut punched your assistant"

Cynthia: *stern stare at Jack* I don't expect you to understand now step aside Savage or whatever your real name is”

Jack:(Blocks her way)You don't expect me to understand well try me Walker"

Cynthia: *aim to hit jack at his chin for knocking him off* sorry”

Jack:(Getting up)you know I felt worse punches Walker(spits out some blood)we're not done yet"

Zac: Wait Miss Walker! *Help Stella standing up* At least, listen to what she has to say. 

Cynthia: What a pain *clinching her fists*”

Stella:I killed someone-It was the most Hellish thing i'd never thought i'd do in my life,all I want is retribution for what I did-please Cynthia let me take responsibility for what I did" 

Cynthia: I give up... You will take 'responsibility' Just go to wait in monitor room while I and Savage prepare the confrontation”

Jack:(shoots Cynthia with tranquilizers)Alright Rogers we got about 4 hours till she wakes up-let's move"

Cynthia: You... damn... hare *falling down*”

Jack:(puts a paw on her cheek)I'm sorry Cynthia but Rogers needs to do this(pats her sleeping head)"

Stella: Thank you for your concern miss Walker but I need this. My apology *shaking* Zac: *grab stella's paw* I'll be there for you(looks at the ferret)Stella.....I..(she puts a paw on his lips)"

Stella:I know-but no time"

Jack: follow me(and they did)”  

(At the prison the guards sent Charles to Jack’s office so they can give him the news)

Charles:Okay what is it you want from me now?”

Jack:Mister Coburn about a week ago elite members of your team attack GSD headquarters in hopes of knowledge of this prison,they succeeded but at a cost(Charles raises an eyebrow)we managed to capture at least 4 of them but-”

Stella:I got it from here Mister Savage-one was hit with a tranqulizer but the impact was so strong it flung him to a broken console electrocuting him to death-I killed him(she looks down to the floor as she said it)”

Charles:Wow-must have been a traumatic moment for you Miss Rogers”

Stella:I accept whatever punishment you’d see fit”

Charles:If it was your intention to kill him then I would of broke free of my chains, flipped this table and snapped your neck like a twig-but I can tell it was an accident so I’m not mad at you Miss Rogers,but I must ask-who was the one you killed?”

Jack:We don’t know for sure but when he died another one called him ‘Skips’-if that helps”

Charles:Holy God-damn,yeti lived a long life,517 to be precise(everyone felt like saying ‘damn’ but kept silent)but I just hope he finds the happiness he deserves and Rogers don’t fret too much on it,it was an accident”

(The guards take him back to his cell)

Charles:(To Eric)[It went short-they didn’t know that you told me and yes I’m sadden by Skip’s death but it was his decision,and like I told Stella his death is not on you Eric]”

Eric:[But I led the damn mission-if he refused he might still be alive today]

Charles:[Now you know how I feel about losing you guys-so far they caught Greg,004,Orly and Hot Dog Person,like the others they will be free promise]”

Eric:[Okay-we also got more numbers to help in the Jailbreak]”

Charles:[Alright-we’ll discuss this later bye Eric]”

Eric:[Bye Charles]”

(Now Charles is sitting in his cell for in 2 weeks the jailbreak will commence)

THE END

Gotta give props to my bud @randomwoohoo who helped my co-create this

[emospritelet]

Empty Corridors - Ch 18

Last time, Lacey was freaked out by realising that she has fallen head over heels in love with Gold.  So expect awkwardness :(

AO3 link

Gold was unused to feeling so content on waking.  He was wonderfully warm, his muscles aching pleasantly, and Lacey’s scent was filling his head.  Memories of the previous evening oozed into his brain, making him smile, and he licked his lips as though he would still catch the taste of her.  He reached out with a hand, hoping to pull her close, but the bed beside him was cold.  An odd sensation registered, something smooth and warm, patting his nose, and he opened his eyes.  The black kitten was watching him curiously, a paw reaching out to touch him with velvet pads, and he felt his grin widen.

“Well, good morning to you, too.”

He pushed himself up, throwing back the covers and making the kitten scamper away, and hunted for his clothes.  He presumed Lacey was already up and dressed.  It would have been nice to wake up beside her for once, and the first tingles of anxiety were starting to form, deep in his belly, as he thought about the possible reasons for her absence.  It had felt strange to talk about Bae with her; it had been so long since he had spoken to anyone about that, and he wasn’t sure what had made him decide to be open with her.  Perhaps her own fear and vulnerability, putting him in the unfamiliar position of wanting to protect and care for someone.  He wasn’t sure he was any good at it, and her absence from the bedroom made him wonder if he had shared too much, been too open.  Acted too much as though they were an item, instead of - well, whatever the hell this was.  Or perhaps she was regretting being open with him about her own past.  He could understand that, too.  Either way, he was pretty sure he had fucked up.

It took him a little while to get dressed and button everything, and his shirt was badly crumpled from where it had lain on the floor all night.  It would have to do until he got home, and he smoothed the front as best he could, knotting his tie.

Lacey was in the kitchen, standing with her back to him and gazing out of the window, but she turned as he entered, sending him a smile that seemed a little thin.

“Hey,” she said.  “Still no power, so no coffee.  Sorry.”

“No matter.”  He glanced out of the window at the clear blue sky.  “At least the storm is over.”

“Yeah.”  She held up her phone.  “Leroy texted me.  Power company says it’ll be back on later today, with any luck.”

She slipped the phone into her pocket, wrapping her arms around herself and looking down.  The anxious feeling began stealing through him, icy pinpricks crawling over his skin.

“We could try Granny’s,” he suggested.  “I’m pretty sure she has backup generators.”

“Yeah, I guess.”  She hunched her shoulders.  “I - I was kind of wanting to study today.  Thought I’d get some in while I can.”

She still wasn’t looking at him, and he wanted to sigh.  They had been so in tune the previous night, or so he had thought.  They had shared secrets and opened up, and when he had woken her from her nightmare and comforted her in the best way he knew, it had been different.  It had been like making love.  She had been silent afterwards, chewing her lip and not meeting his eyes, and so he hadn’t pushed it, simply spooning up behind her and feeling her relax as she slipped back into sleep.  She seemed to pull back whenever he thought he was getting close to her.  He supposed he could understand that, being used to keeping others at arm’s length as he did.  It was bloody infuriating, though.  He decided to give her space, as that appeared to be what she wanted.

“I’ll have to say no to coffee anyway, I have some things to take care of today,” he said briskly, straightening his cuffs.  “Looks as though you’re busy, too.  I suppose we’ll see each other on Wednesday, when you start work.”

Lacey blinked at him, uncertainty warring with what looked like hurt in her eyes.  Okay, so maybe he didn’t understand her.

“Yeah,” she said eventually.  “Yeah, I guess.  Wednesday morning, bright and early.”

“I open at eight-thirty,” he said lamely.  Lacey nodded.  She knew that, of course.  He had no idea why he had said it.  She was shifting a little awkwardly from foot to foot, and after a moment’s hesitation, he decided to reach out again.

“But if you wanted to meet for coffee beforehand,” he added, “I could see you in Granny’s.  Assuming the power’s back on.”

Her face brightened a little.  God, he had no clue what she was thinking.

“Okay, sure,” she said.  “We’ll start the day with a double-shot of caffeine.  Got a feeling I’m gonna need it.”

“Yes.”  His hands opened and closed on the handle of his cane, and he gestured at the pans of potatoes and coq au vin he had started to cook the night before.  “You - uh - you can heat that through if you like.  Should do you a couple of meals.”

“Thanks.”  Lacey glanced at the stove.  “Fingers crossed I can have it tonight.  Potatoes is something I can actually cook.  Kind of.”

He wavered, wondering if he should kiss her, and deciding that she didn’t want him to.

“Right,” he said.  “Well.  Wednesday, then.”

“See you around,” she said carelessly, and he nodded and backed away, heading for the door and wanting to bang his head against the wall as he went down the stairs.

Lacey listened to the door close, feeling anxious and awkward, and hating it.  She was aware that he wasn’t sure how to react to her coolness, but having been hit with a deluge of feelings that she didn’t know what to do with, running and hiding in the kitchen had seemed like the best option.  She had woken in his arms, warm and safe and content, until the reality of what she was feeling, and their whole situation, had made her panic and bolt.  Perhaps it had been the storm, and her being overemotional.  Perhaps she would see him on Wednesday and feel nothing for him but the faint sense that she wanted to screw his brains out.  Perhaps she could be casual about this whole thing.  And while you’re at it, perhaps you’ll get a 1580 on the SATs and every college in the country will beat down the door to enrol you, she thought dryly.  Admit it, you bloody idiot.  You fell in love with the man.  You knew full well it could never last, and you fell in love with him anyway.  Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Mentally yelling at herself didn’t make her feel any better, and so she made herself a dish of cereal - the milk was still okay, so there was that - and drank a tall glass of water.  Study would put him out of her mind, at least.  She was enrolled for the tests, and the second of December wasn’t that far away, really.  Sighing to herself, she reached for the books.  At least she could do her best in this.  Maybe he’d even be proud.

She had to work the next day, her final, early shift at the diner before her new job, and she was surprised to find that she enjoyed it.  Perhaps it was the air of excitement that she felt, despite her inner turmoil, or the fact that Leroy bought her flowers and kissed her cheek when she brought out his breakfast (extra bacon).  Granny and the other girls had got her a card and a present of a new black shirt and skirt, which she planned to wear on her first day.  Ruby had slipped one of the little aprons into her bag as well, causing raised eyes.  She had shrugged, grinning.

“Just in case you feel like a bit of roleplay with - anyone,” she said innocently, making Lacey blush and glare at her.

She spent the rest of the day studying, refusing Ruby’s offer of a night out, but agreeing to meet on Wednesday evening to talk about how her first day had gone.  The power was back on, and so she studied late into the night, her eyes burning when she finally pushed her books aside.

On Tuesday she decided to take a break and do some chores, and so she went into town to stock up on food with her last paycheck from the diner.  There was something else she needed to do, but it meant she would have to speak to her father, and so she had been putting it off for a few days, unable to deal with the inevitable confrontation.

The late October day was crisp and bright, and she breathed deeply as she left her apartment, enjoying the cold scent of the air.  She had spent the evening hunched over her books, and so she rolled aching shoulders, glancing down the street to where her father’s shop sat, its front bedecked with hanging baskets filled with ivy and winter pansies.  The infamous metal flamingos stood guard outside, and Lacey raised her chin.  She would have to go in.

It had been the conversation with Gold that had made up her mind.  She usually went to her mother’s grave once a month, just to clear the weeds and brush dust from the stone.  Sometimes she took flowers, but she hadn’t done that for a few months now, as the only place in town to buy them was Game of Thorns.  She had decided that caring for the grave was more important than how she felt about her father, and so she was about to pay him a visit.

The shop smelt the same, fresh and green, with the heady scent of roses near the counter.  Moe French was making up a bouquet, wrapping pink florist’s ribbon around the stems, and his mouth flattened as she walked up.

“Hey,” said Lacey.  “I wanted to take some flowers to Mum’s grave.”

He grunted, turning away.

“Haven’t seen you do that in a while.”

“When was the last time you went?”

He didn’t answer, and she sighed.

“Look, just make me up a small bunch of whatever’s pretty,” she said.  “You know what she liked, I don’t really remember.”

“You’ll be paying for it.”

“Obviously.”  Not as though you’d give me anything, is it?

He finished the bouquet he was working on, setting it aside, and reached into the plastic tubs at his feet for carnations and chrysanthemums.  He glanced at her as he worked, and Lacey shifted from foot to foot, feeling his disappointment.

“Did you get anyone to help out?” she asked.  “You could do with someone to cover the shop while you make deliveries.”

“I can’t afford an assistant,” he said sourly.  “Honest businessmen don’t have money to burn, you know.”

It was a blatant dig at Gold, but she ignored it.

“Just get one of the high school seniors,” she said.  “They could do a couple of hours after class.”

“I thought that you would help me out, like you used to,” he said.  “Guess not.”

“You never paid me,” she said impatiently.  “I can’t live on fresh air, I have bills and rent to pay.”

Moe snorted.  “Do you?  Gotta say I’m surprised.”

She was about to ask him what he meant, but figured she could guess, so she ignored that, too.  He added some greenery to the bouquet, his eyes flicking across to her.

“Walking around town in the middle of the morning, huh?” he said.  “What happened to this great new job of yours?”

“It was my last day at Granny’s yesterday,” she said coldly.  “I start tomorrow.  Signed a contract and everything.”

“I’m not gonna ask what the terms were,” he said, and she flushed.

“Yeah, clause thirteen says I have to blow him on Friday afternoons between three and three-thirty,” she said sarcastically.  “Better bring your rent payment in the morning, instead.”

Moe frowned.

“You’ve got a mouth on you, haven’t you?” he said.  “I never raised you to be like this.”

“You barely raised me at all!”

She was getting angry now, and the way his thick fingers fumbled at the flower stalks was annoying her further.  No doubt his hands were shaking from the drink.  He cut a length of ribbon, winding it around the bunch, and pushed it across the counter.

“Twenty bucks.”

“How much?”

Moe shrugged.  “You can afford it, right?  Must be some perks to being Gold’s whore.”

Shaking with anger, she shoved a hand in her purse and pulled out a ten dollar bill and two fives, slapping them on the desk.

“Better learn as much as you can while you’ve got the chance,” he said gruffly.  “I’m guessing you’ll be looking for a new job within six months.  Business and pleasure don’t mix, my girl.”

“Like you’d know.”

“I know him,” said Moe, popping open the cash register and putting the money inside.  “The man’s a snake.  A snake who takes what he wants.  The moment he decides he doesn’t want you, I’m guessing you’re out on your arse.  So don’t burn your bridges.  You might need that diner uniform yet.”

She glowered at him, insecurity crawling through her, and he sent her a wry, ugly grin.

“Unless of course you think he might actually have feelings for you,” he said snidely.  “In which case I’ll wait for the happy announcement that the richest guy in town is content to have everyone else’s sloppy seconds.”

Lacey’s jaw worked, and she grasped the flowers and turned on her heel, striding from the shop.  Tears pricked her eyes, encouraged by the cold breeze, and she blinked rapidly, setting off up the street towards the outskirts of town, and the cemetery.  She was seething with a mix of rage and humiliation, but a part of her whispered that her father was right, and that thought was too painful for words.

Gold had kept himself busy by reorganising some of the stock in the shop, in preparation for Lacey’s arrival.  His records were accurate and complete, but he spent all of Sunday and Monday going through each of the items currently for sale on his shelves, checking its description and provenance and deciding whether it deserved space in the shop or should be relegated to the back room.  It was exactly the sort of task he needed, keeping him busy enough that he didn’t dwell too much on the fragile state of his non-relationship.  He had avoided the diner, knowing it was Lacey’s last day, and hoping that her colleagues would take some of the pressure off her.  It would be strange to go in for coffee and not see her.  The brief thought that perhaps they might go together each day had evaporated.  She seemed to want to withdraw from him, and he knew better than to push his way in where he wasn’t wanted.

By Tuesday afternoon he had finished sorting the stock and was going through one of his rent ledgers when the bell rang above the door.  A glance up made him sigh to himself, and he set down his pen.  Miss Green strode up to the counter in a swirl of skirts, her dark green coat flaring behind her and her curls bouncing on her shoulders.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” she said.  “I want to talk to you about the farm.”

“I trust there isn’t a problem?” he said neutrally, and she smiled.  It made his teeth ache.

“Not at all,” she said.  “It’s just that I wanted to make some alterations, and I’m aware that as landlord, you’ll want to look them over.”

Gold leaned on the desk, hands poised on splayed fingers.  She had his attention now.  Tenants taking it into their heads to make improvements without consulting him had cost him dearly in the past.

“I’ll want to see the plans and give my express approval before any work is done, yes.”

“Oh, it’s not the farmhouse itself,” she said airily.  “I just want to put up some greenhouses and ducting for the water supply, it’s nothing to cause you concern.”

“I’ll want to see the plans,” he repeated.  “And give my express approval.”

“Fine,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.  “I have the preliminary drawings.  I can bring them in this week.”

“Wonderful.”

He waited for her to go, but instead she stepped nearer, leaning on the counter.  It made him want to pull back, but he met her gaze as calmly as he could.

“I could bring them here, of course,” she said.  “Or you could come out to the farm.”

“It’s not me that wants to make improvements.”

“You could see what I’ve done with the place,” she said.  “The kitchen, for example.  I make an excellent pie.  I’d be happy to cut you a piece.”

She was grinning at him, and he decided that he had had enough.

“Miss Green, I’m at a loss to understand why it is you seem to think we’re old friends,” he said impatiently.  “I’m not aware that our paths have ever crossed, and yet since you came to this town you have been displaying a disturbing amount of over-familiarity.  Had we met before and I simply wiped it from my mind?”

Zelena pushed back from the counter, looking irritated.

“No,” she said, after a pause.  “And there’s no need to be so hostile, I can take a hint.”

“Really?”  He turned back to his ledger.  “And here I was thinking you were simply a budding stalker with too much free time.”

She pulled back with a huff.  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re insufferably rude?”

Gold showed his teeth.

“Frequently.  Do I look like I care?”

“Well, fortunately I have a very thick skin,” she said with a sniff.  “It takes a lot to knock me down.”

“That is fortunate indeed,” he said.  “For you.”

“I’ll see you later in the week, then,” she said.  “If you’re in agreement, we can sit down and discuss any terms.”

“My office hours are eight-thirty until six,” he said.  “And I’m in no mood to make exceptions, so do please remember that.”

She huffed again, tossing her hair.

“Fine,” she said.  “I’ll see you on Friday, I expect.”

“I am almost breathless with anticipation.”

Her mouth flattened, and she whirled away and stormed out, making him grin.  Bloody irritating woman!  There was something familiar about her, though.  Something he couldn’t quite place.  Her appearance in the small town, seemingly with no connection there, was unusual enough to make him suspicious, and he decided to do a little digging.  He drummed his fingers on the counter, weighing up his options, and after a moment, dug his phone out of his pocket.

“I have a job for you,” he said to the voice on the other end.  “A little detective work.  Usual fees.”

After giving as much detail about Zelena as he could, he rang off, turning back to his ledger.  He would know who she was, and what she really wanted, soon enough.

Wednesday dawned, grey and miserable, and Lacey curled her lip at the weather as she drank a mug of coffee and petted the kittens.  It was early, barely seven, and she was already dressed and watching the diner from her kitchen window.  It was odd to see Ruby and the others bustling about, setting out cutlery and refilling napkin holders, while she sat in the warmth of her kitchen and watched them.  Okay, so maybe she was actually waiting to see if Gold showed up and maybe she was all ready to get out of the door once he did, but that was beside the point.

As if on cue, she saw him out of the corner of her eye, a lone, slender figure in a dark suit and a red shirt, his black overcoat wafting behind him in the breeze and his hair rippling as he walked.  She downed the last of the coffee, and picked up the kittens to kiss them one by one.

“I’ll be back at lunchtime,” she promised.  “You guys be good, okay?”

Setting them in their basket, she grabbed the bag containing her laptop and charger, pulled a hat down over her hair and trotted out of the door.  She still felt awkward about seeing Gold, and was unsure how she was going to react, but she had told herself very firmly that she had a job to do, and her personal feelings towards him shouldn’t get in the way.

Just be casual, she thought as she crossed the road.  You’ve interacted tons of times, and the fact that you caught feelings and shit means nothing.  Concentrate on the job.  Just don’t be fucking weird about it and freak out when you see him.

She pushed open the door to the diner, calling out a greeting to Merida and Ruby, and caught Gold’s eye almost immediately.  He was just taking off his coat, draping it over the back of his chair, and he sent her a brief smile, his gold tooth glinting as he shook his hair back.  She felt her stomach flip, and almost stumbled into the table.

Great, Lacey.  Real smooth.

“Eager to get started, I see,” he said.  “Would you like breakfast?”

She busied herself setting down her bag and shrugging off her jacket.

“Coffee would be good,” she said.  “And - and I guess some pancakes, if you’re having some.”

“Make that two, please, Miss Lucas,” said Gold, as Ruby bustled up with a pad and pen.

“Sure thing.”  Ruby scribbled on the pad, winked at Lacey, and hurried off to grab the coffee.

Lacey pulled off her hat, shoving it into her bag, and sat up, knowing that her cheeks were flushed, and hoping he would think it was the cold air.  Gold was looking at her over tented fingers, the dark red of his shirt warm against his skin, light glinting on the heavy ring he wore on his right hand.  She sat back as Ruby placed steaming cups of coffee in front of them both.

“I brought my computer,” she said.  “I thought I’d probably spend at least the first few days setting up a spreadsheet to record the details of all the items.  It’ll make it easier to keep track of everything if we have a good database.  I’ll need access to whatever records you have on the crap in your shop.”

He nodded.

“I thought as much,” he said, taking a sip.  “I spent the past few days double-checking the prices and provenance on everything.”

She nodded, fidgeting a little in her seat, and he took another sip.

“I suggest you don’t label the goods as ‘crap’ when it comes to listing them for sale,” he added, his eyes twinkling a little, and she gave him a flat look.

“Just make sure I have as much info on them as you can give me.”

“Well, my ledgers have everything I’ve purchased and sold,” he said.  “I may need to provide you with more description, as a lot of the detail is held in my head.”

“It’s cool, I need to take pictures anyway.”  She added sugar and cream to her cup.  “I’ll need to set up in the back room.  A flat surface with some cloth covering it.”

“Black would be best for the jewellery, and perhaps green for the furniture and some of the china,” he said, rubbing his chin.  “Let me see what I can do.  It may not be today.”

“Not a problem, as long as I give everything a reference number we can use to add the pictures later.”

She could feel herself relax, as they talked about work, as they concentrated on what it was he had hired her to do.  She was surprised by how easy it was to fall into this new way of earning a living, discussing her ideas with him as though she had done this sort of thing before, and wasn’t an ex-waitress with a working knowledge of Ebay.  He seemed receptive to her suggestions, and amused by her enthusiasm, and by the time they left the diner she decided she had made the right choice.  She just had to keep on doing her job until she got over her feelings for him.

Gold had cleared a space in the back room for her, a small desk and chair on which she set her laptop.  He largely left her to get on with it, sitting at the workbench and making repairs to a pocket watch.  They sat in comfortable silence as Lacey began constructing her spreadsheet, adding columns for item descriptions, age and condition, along with purchase price, retail price and reserve auction price.  Gold made them tea at eleven, a strong, fragrant brew with chewy oatmeal raisin cookies on the side.  Lacey perched on her chair with her feet tucked under, nibbling at her cookie as he leaned back against the bench opposite.

“I’m gonna set up different sheets for different groups of items,” she explained.  “So there’ll be a furniture section, and a porcelain section, and a jewellery section, you know?  Should make it easier to find stuff.”

“Can you put something in there about sales data?” he asked.

“I can.  Do you do your accounts on computer?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Lacey giggled.  “Pity.  Would have made things easier for you.”

He grinned, and took a bite of his cookie.

“I have to go out to look at one of my properties this afternoon,” he said.  “Will you be alright minding the shop until I get back?”

“What if someone wants to buy something?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Prices are marked.  Sell it to them.  If they haggle, don’t go lower than ten per cent off.”

“Um…”  She chewed her lip, and he smiled.

“No one ever comes in, remember?” he said.  “That’s why I hired you.”

“Okay.”  She nodded.  “Sure.  I’m sure it’ll be fine.  I’ll - um - I’ll need your records so I can start putting the details in here.”

Gold jerked his head at a large mahogany bookshelf at the side of the room.

“All the ledgers are on there,” he said.  “You’ll no doubt find that things aren’t in the order you want, but I’m afraid there’s no way around that.”

“I can manage,” she said, looking at the thick, heavy ledgers.  “I think - I think this is gonna keep me busy for some time.”

“Well, that was the general idea,” he said, lifting his teacup.  “I assure you this isn’t urgent.  Just take your time.”

He took a drink, and she nodded, trying to relax a little more.  He was looking too good for her to be entirely comfortable, his jacket off and the red silk sleeves pushed up with his gold sleeve garters.  She hadn’t even known those were a thing until she saw them on him, but they only added to the attraction.  She found her gaze running down his body, remembering how he felt pressing down on her, and buried her nose in her cup to hide her blush.

“So which property’s causing you problems?” she asked, trying to distract herself.

“Oh, it’s one of my warehouses,” he said.  “It’s not causing problems, exactly, I just think it either needs extensive renovations or pulling down and replacing with something else.”

“Another warehouse?” she asked.

“Perhaps.  It depends on the interests of potential tenants.  The town doesn’t need more housing, it needs business investment.”

“You could turn it into smaller offices or retail spaces,” she suggested.  “Give discounts to start-ups, or start a weekly market for small traders.”

“Excuse me?”

Lacey sat forward.

“Look, there are plenty of people in this town who’d like to do something else, but don’t have the space or the time or the money,” she said.  “Take Leroy and Walter.  They work at the hospital, but Leroy’s a qualified electrician, and Walter’s a plumber.  They just never had any advice about setting up in business or any premises to work from.”

He was staring at her, but she pressed on.

“And - and then there’s Tiana,” she said.  “Making cupcakes out of her kitchen in the evening for whatever bake sale happens to come along.  If she had more space, she could take on some helpers, bake full time and maybe work up to that patisserie she always talked about running.”

“How do you know all this?” he asked.

“I talk to people,” she said patiently.  “Customer service, you know?  I could tell you the hopes and dreams of pretty much everyone in this town.  You know, except you, I guess.”

He was silent, and she wondered if she had overstepped.  She decided he could handle it.

“I’m just saying that if you maybe put up a bunch of smaller units and agreed a low rent for like six months, it might encourage start-up businesses,” she said, with a shrug, and Gold blinked.

“An interesting suggestion,” he said.  “I’ll consider it when I look the place over.”

He set his cup aside, picking up his jacket and putting it on.

“I’ll be back at lunchtime.”

She nodded, turning back to her laptop as he made his way out.  He hadn’t tried to kiss her, hadn’t so much as touched her since meeting her that morning, and it made it easier to think.  If she was going to be working for him, she had to hold onto as many of her wits as the man had left her, which were precious few.

She went to the shelves where the ledgers sat, pulling one out and opening it up on the desk.  There was page after page of notes on the items in the shop, each numbered, some with an entry to show the sale, all in Gold’s neat, flowing script.  She sighed as she looked at how many entries there were just one page.  At this rate she’d still be putting the database together when it was time to take the SATs.

Once a couple of entries were on the system, she decided it would be easier to use a ruler to see which item she was copying, and so she went on a hunt.  There was nothing on the desk or bench, and so she pulled out one of the desk drawers, reaching inside.  Her fingers touched thick paper, and she pulled out a bundle of envelopes, her brow wrinkling curiously.  A stack of letters and cards, that appeared to be unopened, bound with a rubber band.

Lacey looked around, suddenly nervous.  She was aware that she had no right to look, but she couldn’t help peeking to see if her suspicions were correct.  Bailey Gold, the top one said, followed by an address in New York.  It had been returned, unopened.  A quick flick through the pile showed that the others were the same, although the address changed to Portland, Oregon, and then to Phoenix.  The New York address was the most recent, and after a moment she pulled out her phone and took a picture.  She wasn’t sure why, exactly, but it felt like something she should take a note of.  Just in case.

Gold got back to the shop around one, and Lacey excused herself to go home to feed the cats.  He supposed he should have asked her to lunch, but then they were going to be together all afternoon, and she probably wanted time to herself.  He made himself some more tea, instead, with two of the oatmeal cookies, and started working on the pocket watch again.  He had thought over her ideas as he was looking over the warehouse, but although they had merit, he was not one to make snap decisions when it came to business plans.

Lacey returned at two, smiling briefly at him and returning to her work, and there was little more said until the clocks in the shop started striking six, and she stretched and yawned.  Gold flashed her a brief smile.

“How was your first day?” he asked, and she returned the smile.

“Okay, actually,” she said.  “See you tomorrow?”

“Coffee at Granny’s?”

She hesitated, but nodded.  He noticed that she was clutching her laptop bag to her chest, a little like a shield, and so he kept his distance.

“I’ll see you at seven-fifteen,” he said.  “Thank you, Lacey.”

She inhaled sharply, as though she was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it, and scurried out with the laptop bag under one arm.  He watched her go, wondering if he would ever understand what was going through her mind.  The bell above the door tinkled as she let herself out, and he stood up, his leg stiff and painful after sitting in one position for so long.  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he reached for it, flipping it open to answer.

“It’s me, calling to make your day ten times better.”

The man who called himself Jefferson had an almost lazy drawl to his voice, and was a dreadful flirt.  Gold wanted to roll his eyes, amused in spite of himself.

“What do you have for me?” he asked, and Jefferson sighed.

“Straight to the good stuff, huh?” he said.  “No foreplay at all?”

“Do you want to be paid or not?” snapped Gold.  “I don’t have all night.”

“So my last date said.  Turned out that wasn’t true.”

“Jefferson!”

“Fine!”  Jefferson sighed heavily.  “Her name is Zelena Green, thirty eight years old, raised in London by a banker and his American wife, but went to Northwestern University and studied business.  She worked for Oz Industries up until 2012, then got laid off.  Since then she’s been doing consultant work for a health and beauty company in Philadelphia.”

“Okay, so far, so boring,” said Gold cautiously.  “I know you, though.  What’s your big reveal.”

Jefferson clicked his teeth, sounding exasperated.

“You never let me have any fun!”

“Just tell me.”

“She has interesting antecedents, if you move in the wrong circles,” he said.  “Her birth mother is Cora Mills.”

Gold tapped his pen on the counter, trying to hide his shock.  A name he hadn’t heard in a long time, and an unwelcome one.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.  “If I need anything further I’ll be in touch.”

“Sure thing.”

Jefferson rang off, and Gold slipped the phone back into his pocket, frowning.  Miss Green had made him uncomfortable from the moment he met her.  At least now he knew why.

[feelingsinwinter]

The Moutain’s Crown - Chapter 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

The Mountain’s Crown, or the Crown as the man called it, was some kind of haven for creatures, magical or common. War mounts were grazing peacefully in the hills near the house without the presence of a penn to keep them safe and around. There were some war dogs too, resting or trotting enthusiastically around the man and looking up to him like he was their savior.

Which, Bucky thought with a frown, might be the truth.

Since the man, Tony, had agreed to keep them around until he thought them trustworthy enough to let them leave without risking the lives of his guests, Bucky, Clint and Steve had seen… incredibles things.

[beware the read more !]

At first and during the very first day, Bucky and Steve had found they actually had to fight Tony in order to keep him in bed. He also discovered that Tony could compete with Steve’s stubbornness which was definitely not fun considering Bucky thought himself free of fighting injured little shits unable to stay in bed for their own sake. He would have find it a sweet revenge on Steve for all those days the punk had put Bucky through hell and back if Bucky hadn’t had to participate in the battles.

For a split second, Bucky had considered tying Tony to his bed and be done with it but, like he always does, Steve had guessed exactly what had went through his boyfriend’s mind and glanced at him. The disappointment in those baby blues was thicker than Steve’s head, which was saying something. It was all it took to swipe the idea away.

Bucky was a weak man when confronted by boyfriends and willing to admit it. If just to himself.

A the end of the first day, Steve and Bucky had to add a fourth bed in their room in order to keep Clint and Tony in check.

Because as soon as Steve and Bucky had their back turned to fight Tony and keeping him in bed, Clint had used the opportunity to sneak out. Of-fucking-course he had.

When they weren’t taking care of Tony and Clint and more or less certain one or the other wouldn’t leave his bed to wander around, Steve and Bucky were outside and managing the haven. As best as they could, anyway. The number of chores the man did, all by himself, was astonishing.

When he had a moment to spare, Bucky wondered how Tony had done it without someone to help him. Steve and him were both young men in good conditions and despite being used to rougher days, they still fell asleep as soon as their head hit their pillow, exhaustion deeply settled in their limbs.

Until Tony was finally freed from staying in bed. Then, they saw him in action.

As soon as Tony was out and about, the griffin, the roc bird and the wyvern started helping. It was fascinating. Like dancers whirling over and around Tony, helping with the ease of a well oiled team. The wyvern, Trisha, was a new addition to it and it showed, but she was doing well despite her considerable size.

There were others creatures at the Mountain’s Crown aside from the horses, the dogs and what Bucky had started to refer as the Crown’s guardians. Steve, Bucky and Clint knew there were but Tony had refused to tell anything to them about those other guests.

“It’s already a bad thing that you know about Trisha, Peter and Birdy, I won’t put others at risk if I can help it,” he had said, gaze steady and focused. The warrior who had fought against Bucky and held his ground was staring at them, ready to fight if necessary. The fighter was obvious in all his strength and resolution.

They’d bowed out of that argument, despite Bucky’s reluctance. It was the only time Tony would be allowed out of his bed for the days he was supposed to rest. During his recovery, Bucky and Steve had taken upon taking care of the creatures residing outside the house, feeding them, cleaning if necessary while Tony took care of the inside guests.

It’s how they understood the true expanse of the Wyvern’s intelligence. As long as they took care of the haven, she brought a considerable amount of trash for them to clean. Bringing a new carcass as soon as they were done with the former one.

Steve and Bucky truly understood how much she had fucked with them, the very first day Tony went back to the outside work. As he came upon the disgusting remains of the unknown thing “Trisha” had hunted that day, Tony arched an eyebrow at her and asked her to get rid of it herself. She had done it. In a heartbeat. As simple as that. Flapping her wings and grabbing the remains with her back paws, she carried it somewhere else and that was it.

When she came back, Tony instantly scolded her over it, asking her where that behavior came from and overall acting like a father chiding his behaving child.

She looked ashamed in front of him, lowering her eyes to the ground and shuffling awkwardly on her front digits until he huffed out fondly, patted her on the snout and headed somewhere else. The second Tony had his back turned, she smirked smugly at Bucky and Steve, the hint of pointy teeth not nearly as threatening as the mischievous glint in her eyes.

The ridiculous number of hours they had spent cutting and dismantling the horribly reeking carcasses she kept bringing was infuriating now that they knew the truth behind it.

With Tony now in condition to guide them, it was considerably easier to take care of the haven and its inhabitants. Funner, too. It felt as if someone had lifted a significant weight off of their shoulders. The sky seemed brighter, the air cleaner and easier to breath, the grass greener.

***

Living at the Mountain’s Crown wasn’t as bad as Bucky thought it would be.

He had had his doubts concerning Tony’s motives and the way he would be with them after their insurrection but Tony proved him wrong on each and every one of them.

Sure, Tony had been a pain in the ass to deal with when they tried to keep him in bed for his recovery but as soon as they let him go, he went back to taking care of his guests.

Kept on taking care of Clint’s injuries, pestering and glaring at them every chance he had but his gestures remained soft and careful. He was more caring than Bucky had thought he was at first, and it showed crystal clear once he stopped listening to Tony’s rants and insults. His words were roughs and hard but his eyes, while sometimes shining bright with anger, never ceased to care.

He cared enough to fight.

He had snarled at them when Bucky had refused to give Clint the medicine, it was to lighten the pain but Bucky had never seen nor scented anything like it. It was unknown, it could be dangerous and Bucky was already on edge more often than not. Pissed off, Tony had shoved the medicine at them, fury burning bright in his eyes as he spat: “Give it to him when you’re tired of seeing him in pain,” before storming out and slamming the door on his way out.

Much later, when Tony came back and found Clint asleep and his face devoid of any pain, he had smiled a tiny little thing their way. It was hard to say if it was about their show of trust or because of Clint’s peaceful, resting face, though. Probably both, Bucky thought.

They had been surprised when they realised just how good Tony’s drug was, for more than just keeping the pain at bay. Clint kept a clear mind, barely slower than usual and less sleepy than he would be with some other drugs. It was not only effective but it didn’t hinder Clint’s faculties either, it was a real relief for everyone.

“What d’you use?” Clint asked one day.

Tony had smiled, small and distracted as he changed Clint’s dressing, “I have my own recipe.”

“Will you tell me?” Clint pushed, curious and watching Tony closely.

“It depends.”

“On what?”

Tony didn’t answer immediately, focusing instead on finishing Clint’s arm’s dressing. Bucky could see the frustration building and starting to show on Clint’s face but the archer kept it at bay. Waiting, making a true effort to give space and trust to the man who’s been taking care of him since the beginning. Tony answered when he was done, looking straight at him, open and honest but no less firm and definitive:  “On you.”

With a last pat on Clint’s now bandaged arm, Tony left the room, glancing shyly at Steve and a little more warily at Bucky on his way out.

After that, and once Clint was allowed to get out of his room, everything went a little easier.

Not so surprisingly, Tony was more relaxed around Clint. He also agreed to Clint’s requests more often and more easily than he did with Steve’s or Bucky’s.

Because of one of those requests, they found themselves eating at the same table, sharing breakfast and dinner and every meal after that. With Clint, it was easy like that. He just had to say something and Tony would think about it, maybe agree instantly. When it came to Steve, it was a little more hesitant and still showing some wariness. Bucky was another matter entirely. While Tony wasn’t outright hostile, he also knew what kind of skills Bucky had and definitely aware of the threat he represented. Yet, Tony was kind and would give Bucky more than he should, more than most would and Tony wouldn’t think twice about it. There was just that knowledge, that readiness in his eyes when he looked Bucky’s way.

Tony wasn’t fooled by Steve’s easy smiles or Clint’s childiness. He was still assessing them like he said he would.

Bucky didn’t know what Tony saw when he was looking at them but it couldn’t be so bad.

***

There was a garden behind the house where vegetables and fruits grew, beautiful and healthy. It looked well taken care.

Tony went there every day but Bucky had never saw him doing anything aside from taking the available harvest.

At first, the quantities had been small but the more Clint, Steve and Bucky stayed, the more they grew until it gave enough to feed Tony and his three humans guests.

The hunt part was taken care by Peter, the griffin. In the very beginning, when Tony was still in bed rest and unable to go outside - without being chased down by them, that is - the beast would only hunt enough for Tony. It lasted until Peter realized Tony took smaller parts to share equally with them. The very next day, they had too much meat to deal with.

Their life wasn’t ideal, far from it, but the more time passed, the more it was hard to remember they were prisoners of the Mountain’s Crown until Tony trusted them enough to let them go. And the more they stayed, the more Tony opened to them and that, Bucky had found, held a higher price to him than his own liberty.

Steve had been the first to fall. Bucky had watched his old friend staring at Tony with a small smile playing on his lips as Tony took care of a spooked horse, voice soft and touch gentle. He had seen the way Steve would touch Tony’s shoulder as he passed by, or the way he would lean toward their host when he spoke. It was all written in the way Steve had stopped watching Tony carefully to look at him fondly.

Clint had followed, probably halfway there already when Tony had held him gently so that Clint could carde his fingers through Birdy’s feathers. The look of utter wonder on Clint’s face had spread warmth in Bucky’s chest, a warmth that reached far within him until it had taken a firm place and stayed there.

That day, once Clint was done marveling at the strength in the bird’s wings and the way each feather played a vital role in his flight, Tony and Clint had sat together. They talked until night had came upon them, the great bird nestled near them and keeping them warm despite the mountain’s chill.

Somewhere along the way, Bucky guessed, he had fallen too. Truth be told, it was hard to keep your heart on the line when a man like Tony was around.

Tony was kind, generous and smart, a kind of smartness Bucky had never witnessed before. There was a reserve to Tony when he was around them, it was more related to awkwardness than shyness, though. It wasn’t hard to guess Tony hadn’t seen a human being in a long time and that his last meeting hadn’t end well.

However, despite Steve and Clint’s infatuations, and Bucky’s to some degree, and the way they had started to act around him, Tony seemed to remain entirely oblivious to their affections. Reacting to Steve’s casual touching with a small smile, definitely happy to welcome Clint sprawling on his lap as soon as Tony was sitting, it was almost natural as Tony carded his fingers through Clint’s hair. He reacted to the changes in their behaviors like it was something entirely natural.

It seemed entirely too easy for Tony to lie down with Clint curled up next to him, the archer’s head nestled on his shoulder and his nose brushing against his throat. There wasn’t any awkwardness in his smile when Clint had reached around and wrapped his arm around Tony’s waist. Tony would welcome Steve or Bucky on his other side like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

It was insane how easily Tony fitted among them. It wasn’t like a missing piece had found its place but like he was simply made to be with them. How his smile could brighten Steve’s day when he felt a little loomy around the edges, how his joke and small pranks would delight Clint and distract him, how they would rant together for hours without getting tired of it.

For Bucky, it was more subtle. Tony was still careful around him, assessing him from time to time and yet… yet Tony would reach out with such easiness it was a wonder to feel his palm settle on Bucky’s shoulder. The comfort it convey was infinite.

Tony cared more than he would admit. It was written in the way he elbowed Bucky in the side and would distract him with a sharp comment if Bucky stayed away from his boyfriends for a little too long. Tony didn’t say anything, didn’t ask questions or stated what he might have guessed, but he offered what he could and most of the time it was enough to soothe whatever was troubling Bucky’s peace of mind. Sometimes Bucky would not even realize what had happened until he was snuggled with Steve or Clint, head and heart lighter than a moment ago.

[sodokachi]

You’ve Got To Be Kitten Me.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 This is Chapter 3  Chapter 4

AO3 Link

Summary: Adrien finds some actual literal kittens on the side of the road and decides to take them in. Hijinks ensue as he attempts to hide them from his father’s employees, his friends, and Ladybug. Spoiler alert: He doesn’t succeed.

Adrien felt that his school day could have gone better.

He spent most of his classes constantly worried. He kept wondering if his kittens were alright. He hoped that he had fed them enough to last them until evening. They would probably be bored sitting in that box all day. Kittens slept a lot but they still liked to explore and play just like full grown cats.

His worry was so apparent that it was even distracting his teachers. He had been told numerous times by them throughout the day to pay more attention. Ms. Bustier had even threatened to send him to the principle when he had suddenly got distracted while solving a problem on the board.

He had been preoccupied by the incredibly worrying thought of Little Lady escaping the box and then somehow hurting herself. He only managed to console himself with the fact that his little kitten was really smart. He could only hope that would keep her out of trouble. He especially didn’t want to get home to his father having removed the kittens. The very thought made his heart sink dreadfully.

Of all his friends, Nino was the first one to notice his strange mood and had immediately asked him about it. “I’m fine, Nino, just some things on my mind. Thanks for asking.” That, thankfully, mollified Nino for today, but he needed a more permanent lie if he was going to keep the kittens hidden from his best friend. He couldn’t let anyone find out about them.

Ladybug was right about keeping secrets. After all, the less people that knew about them the less chance they would spread. Even if you really wanted to tell the people you trust the most. He refused to believe otherwise. His Lady couldn’t be wrong about such an important aspect of their jobs.

Then Chloe of all people had noticed strange behavior. She demanded to know why he had been acting ‘faded’, whatever that meant, and he had only managed to get out of that one by assuring her that he didn’t even know what ‘being faded’ even meant. Chloe believed him easily. “Of course you don’t know. Why in the world would I think you did?” For some reason, he felt like he should be insulted by her accepting his excuse so easily.

Alya had been the next of his friends to stick her nose into his business, but thankfully he had plenty of experience as Chat Noir at avoiding her questions. Though, as Adrien he wasn’t sure ‘My time is running out.’ worked that well. So instead, he had to deal with her invasive questions about his health (reasonable), his home life (a bit more worrying and private), and his love life (Seriously Alya?). At the last one he walked away from her ignoring her protests.

It wasn’t until school was let out for the day that his last friend decided to confront him. The worst part of Marinette confronting him was that brushing her off felt like kicking a kitten. Heh. Kitten.

What was he talking about? Right, Marinette was confronting him.

He was waiting for his car while sitting on the steps outside of the school when she walked up to him and stood by his side. She didn’t immediately say anything. Instead, she kept glancing at him with nervousness mixed with concern. As the seconds ticked by the nervousness seemed to take over.

He sighed and gave up on leaving without talking to her. He couldn’t just ignore Marinette looking so, so lost as she tried to muster up the courage to talk to him. He shook his head and decided he had to get that look off her face.

“Good afternoon, Marinette.” He said with a pleasant smile.

Her eyes locked with his. “G-good afternoon, Adrien.” She stammered nervously.

She swallowed. “Are um, are you… alright?” The concern was back in her eyes and flowed into her voice. It even seemed to temporarily overpower the nerves she had from earlier.

“I’m fine.” He told her kindly. “I just have a lot on my mind today is all.” It felt like that was going to be his go to excuse from now on.

She didn’t look convinced, but nodded slowly anyway. “If you do need anything, and I mean anything, Adrien, just ask.” She said softly but surely.

He blinked at her in surprise. “I… thanks Marinette, I will.” He was touched by her genuine concern.

She smiled at him and before either of them could say anything else his ride arrived and he had to go.

“So, that was basically how my day went.” He told the cat kwami. Adrien sat in the backseat of the car as he explained his school day.

Plagg growled and pulled on his ears. “I was there you dolt!”

Adrien looked down at him. “So…?”

“I already knew about all of this.” Plagg grumbled.

“You were paying attention during school?” Adrien asked skeptically.

Plagg opened his mouth and then closed it. “Shut up.” He grouched. “Why are you so worried anyway? Those kittens are close to being weaned as it is. Not much to worry about.”

Adrien gaped at him. “How can you even tell?”

“I’m a cat based demi-god, Adrien. I work some mighty magic.” He said haughtily.

Adrien practically hissed at him. “This morning you…!”

The car stopped and Plagg quickly hid back in Adrien’s bag. His driver opened the door for him and Adrien thanked him as he passed by.

Adrien couldn’t stop himself from walking a bit faster today. He wanted to get back to his kittens as soon as possible.

He paused after passing through the front door into the foyer. He swallowed hard. “Father.” He greeted politely.

His father stood at the top of the stairs and stared down at him from behind his glasses. “Why did you suddenly decide to clean your room yourself?” He asked. No. His father didn’t ask. He demanded to know.

Adrien stood up straighter and clasped his hands together behind his back. “I wished to take responsibility for my own messes, Father.” He stated coolly. For some reason, it was easier to lie to his father than his teachers or friends.

His father considered his words and then nodded sharply. “Very well. Do not let this eat into your other responsibilities.”

His son nodded. He was fairly surprised his father allowed this so easily.

His father started to turn to leave, but then paused to look back at his son. “Adrien, I am pleased to see you are going out of your way to take on new tasks. Good job.” With that said, his father continued up the stairs.

Adrien stared at where his father had been standing. A small smile slid onto his face. “Thank you, Father.” He murmured softly to himself.

He stood there for a long moment before heading to his room. He opened the door and blinked in surprise when he saw Little Lady sitting facing the door. Looking a little closer he realized the little spotted kitten was sleeping.

He grinned. “My Little Lady is so cute.” He gently picked her up and headed over to his desk to drop off his bag. His movement around the room had obviously woken the other kittens as they started letting out soft mews.

“Stop fussing,” He chided them gently. “I’ll feed you all in a second.”

“Still not sure why you didn’t just hand them all over to the animal shelter.” Plagg said as he peeked at the three kittens still in the box.

“Their full enough as they are.” He grimaced. “Sometimes I wish I could do more and this was the perfect opportunity to do exactly that.”

Plagg grumbled and then frowned. “I think the grey one is sick.”

Adrien blinked in concern and put Little Lady down on the floor. She yawned with her eyes closed and stretched her entire body as she woke. He walked over to the box with Little Lady quickly padding after him. Once at the box he peered down at Grumpy. “He has been acting a little strange.” Adrien admitted. “I was hoping it would resolve itself.”

Plagg continued frowning. “I think the kitten needs some help.” He looked up at Adrien with concern shining in his green cat eyes.

“Tomorrow is Sunday Plagg. There are no vets open on Sunday.” Adrien’s brow furrowed. “At least that I know of anyway.”

Plagg shot him a strange, for Plagg anyway, concerned look. Crud, if his kwami of all people was concerned then he really needed to do something.

“Any ideas?” He asked him. If he didn’t Adrien did have a good amount of money in his personal account. He could make a visit to the nearest animal hospitable as Chat. That would draw a lot of eyes though.

Little Lady meowed at him and pawed his leg. Plagg glanced at her. “She’s concerned for her brother.” He told him. The kwami looked at the concerned kitten and sighed. “I really shouldn’t tell you this, but I know a healer of sorts that might be able to help.”

“You know somebody?” Adrien asked dubiously. He reached down and ran his fingers along Little Lady’s back. She relaxed and purred up at him.

Plagg snickered. “Just this one guy.” He assured him.

Adrien glanced down at the kittens. “Can we take Grumpy to him tonight?”

Plagg nodded. “He seems to be in a bad way. Best if we fix it as soon as possible.”

Adrien decided not to mention anything about Plagg’s about face when it came to the kittens. “Let me feed the other three and then we can take him to this healer of yours.”

Adrien went to go get some water to boil and when he got back he was surprised to see Plagg had curled up next to Grumpy. He would swear later, to Plagg’s many denials, that he heard Plagg whisper to the tiny grey kitten: ‘Don’t worry, my chosen’s the best. He’ll definitely take care of you.’

Right now though, he was focused on feeding the kittens so that he could take Grumpy to the healer Plagg had mentioned. If that failed he would just have to bite the bullet and take him to an animal hospital.

Finishing up with them he gently put Little Lady into the box “Stay here for now. I’m going to help your brother.” He told the kittens softly.

As soon as his kwami was done telling him where the healer lived Adrien grabbed a towel and turned towards Plagg.

“Plagg!” His kwami looked up at him. “Claws out!”

[anewbiegm]

Tales from Saturday RP

With a break in our usual A Song of Ice and Fire game, R, who plays Ser Percy ‘Big Train’ Clearwater, offered to run an Arcanis one-shot using their 5th Ed D&D version. Only N - Anthor ‘Shit-Heel’ Waterman - and R had ever played any Arcanis before and that was the older version using their own rulset, so we weren’t sure what to expect. At this point, @thewenglishwarlock has been running 5th Ed. longer than time itself has existed and would have probably chewed off her own arm to get a game of it, even if it was a F.A.T.A.L 5th Ed. conversion. Ok, maybe not, but you never know. 

Anyway, I’ve no idea what pre-written adventure it was that R ran, but there will be spoilers ahead.

The group is quite a diverse group Race-wise, Class-wise we’re fairly typical for a D&D party. 

Ai'konu'tlax-Ga ‘Lash’ - my Ss’ressen male Barbarian. I didn’t know too much about the setting so used a Warhammer Fantasy lizardman name generator for him, giving him a slightly Aztec sounding name. He wears very little clothing - Natural Armour + moderate Dex is always fun - and fights mostly with his tail. He carries a khopesh, but has only used that for clearing vines and plants, machete style. I was talked into Barbarian as it’s not something I ever really think of playing in games. Although I had GRAM in Shadow of the Demonlord who had some similarities here - they’re both 7+ feet tall, hulking brutes - I chose this guy to offset the amount of talking Garrick is doing in ASoIaF, whilst avoiding my usual roles of Magic, Stealth, or Magic/Stealth.

Sabine - @usmelinuk‘s Val’Sheem Bard. The Val are basically the settings equivalent of Aasimar. She wanted a character that was a bit more talky, and Bard is great for talky, lots of Skills, and has the added bonus of magic abilities. To top it all off, being a Val noble, she has access to the flintlock weaponry, so is running around with a fancy little pistol. 

Gwella - @thewenglishwarlock‘s Dwarf - I want to say Solani(?) enclave - Cleric of the Grave Domain. A tiny, and somewhat naive, healer off out exploring the wider world. Servant to the Goddess of the Underworld, yadda-yadda. 

Khangir - human Rogue, part swashbuckler, part duel-wielding mercenary. A northerner out for adventure and coin.

Theren - a Kelekene elorri wizard- NotElves! although they are more ‘Primal’ in their heritage. The two elorri in the Quickstart are Life and Fire, the Kelekene being the latter of the two. Seems knowledgeable about many things, although perhaps not quite so well travelled as others in the group. 

We’re introduced to each other - although Lash has been serving as Sabine’s bodyguard and retainer for some time - inside the yurt of the leader of the Ying-hir - NotMongols! of the setting - who believes his son has been killed during a coming-of-age ceremony in the wastes to the west. He had sacrificed himself, apparently in an attempt to distract marauding beasts that had attacked the group of boys, allowing the others to flee to safety, returning to the Ying-hir to tell the tale.

Supplied with travelling rations, the group heads out on the trail of his son. The journey is uneventful to begin with, the group slowly getting to know each other during the travel. On the horizon, several days out, a single dead tree sits in the wasteland, an iron cage hanging from one of the boughs. 

Suspicious, Lash and Khangir scouted ahead, allowing the others to hang back, their ranged weapons drawn and at the ready. Satisfied there are no immediate dangers, everyone regrouped at the cage. Inside, a robed, unconscious human, his hands cut off and the stumps crudely cauterised. Lowering the cage to the floor allowed Gwella the chance to tend to his wounds, calling on her Goddess - Beltine, the Goddess of Afterlife - she managed to rouse the human, many of his wounds healing before our eyes.

Waking, he explained he was an etzara - a spirit talker. In lands that are aggressively patrolled by the servants of Ymandragore, the Sorcerer-King, seeking out Arcane spellcasters, he took a great risk. Sadly, whilst it was not the harvesters who encountered him, he had still run afoul of those that took offence to his practices. Witch hunters, of which faith he didn’t seem to know, but he remembered vividly their pure white armour. They had demanded he renounce his heresy, and turn away from it. Refusing repeatedly, the pair of white-armoured witch hunters, hacked his hands off, and locked him into the iron cage, leaving him to die in the arid hinterlands. 

Angry at this act, we made sure the etzara was loaded with supplies and sent him on his way, whilst we continued on our hunt for the missing Ying-hir boy.

Sometime later, sounds of growling and chattering could be heard of a nearby rise. Charging over the low-rise, a bunch of hyena headed creatures are chattering to themselves, beside them and buried up to his neck is a man, his white armour scattered around the area/. The body of another man, clad in white armour lies dead a short distance away. 

The battle is short, and painful for Lash, taking several painful blows from a pair of the hyena beasts, thankfully the Dwarfen Cleric of of Beltine ensures he doesn’t visit her Halls before his time, and the group free the buried man.

A lot of arguing occurs, Sabine and Lash both think he should be put to death, Lash because he views him as a coward, and torturer, and Sabine for justice for his actions to the etzara. Ultimately, the group allows him to go free, burying his comrade. Glares, and dark thoughts plague the group as we all agree to rescue the missing boy before deciding whether we should part ways.

Eventually, we find the cave the boy was last seen running towards, it is marked by tattered strips of cloth and other decoration, the symbolism lost on our ignorant group. Clambering up the rocky slope, we venture in.

Inside, a small living space has been created, another robed man and a Ying-hir boy waiting for us. The man, another etzara explains the boy took shelter here after being chased by giant panthers. The boy, is the Ying-hir tribal leader’s son, but explains how he is ‘dead’, crossing the tattered banners a huge taboo for his people. The boy is given a choice, remain with the etzara as an apprentice - he seems quite keen on it - or flee into exile. Unsurprisingly he chooses the apprenticeship route, giving the group his familial ring, he asks us to pass it to his father as proof of ‘death’.

Heading outside, we’re confronted by a trio of panthers, one significantly larger than the others. Although some way off, they’re clearly waiting for us to descend, something about the ave an the banners keeping them away. 

A ferocious battle ensues, slashes, pounces and tail-whips abound. Inevitably, we triumph, Lash taking the head of the largest panther as a token for the Ying-hir leader, small recompense for the ‘death’ of his son at the paws of the beast. 

Our return is uneventful, the ring and head are received gratefully, and a reward of a Ying-hir riding horse - a princely gift - is provided to each of us. 

With little reason to remain in the Hinterlands, we head south, although not necessarily as a group, to Milandir, Lash’s birthplace, and more civilised lands. 

A quick introduction into Arcanis, it was ok. I had overestimated how good 18 A.C. was going to be at level 1, and as I’m the kind of player who gets to final section of a CRPG toting more potions than any 35,000 people could carry, I’d heavily rationed by Barbarian Rages, this lead to the slightly embarrassing situation of being taken down to 0 H.P. in our first fight. On the plus side, I’ve learnt from my mistakes and will be a bit less stingy with Rages in future. 

The issue with the Witchhunter did lead to some serious IC arguing and some OOC wondering about whether this party had the cohesion most of our RP groups do, but thankfully we’re still all adventuring together, at least for now.