#since their first conversation its been bothering me that it seems like Tracker felt threatened by Kristen's success

[jehanthepoet]

I think it's worth noting Nara isn't just "Kristen with money." Kristen is an inherently very powerful cleric. She's a chosen one, she created multiple gods, brought a god back to life, brought HERSELF back to life, etc. On that nat20 in sophomore year she was the ONLY ONE who could lift Kalina's curse. Tracker casting the same spell couldn't have done it.

Nara is Kristen with money, but she's also Kristen without that inherent talent. She's Kristen without miracles. She's someone impulsive where it's not just that she lacks follow through (like Kristen), but where that initial impulsively is also less successful.

And, most importantly, I think it's worth noting that without those inherent successes, she's someone Tracker can feel a little superior over.

[emmacreatures]

CAUGHT OFF GUARD

This is a fun inbetween story of Lyle wainfleet and Ter'ran. The combination of the two just screams chaos, and I'm here for it! ENJOY~

Ter'ran had been stuck with the recom group for awhile now.. Due to the untrustworthy energy the man gave, he had a tracker around his neck at all times.. Just in case he decided to sneak out on them. Lyle was told to keep an eye on him, which may not have been the best option. Though, all other recom's had a lot of things to do and since Lyle and Ter'ran had a lot of beef with each other most of the time, lyle almost liked to baby sit the annoying native.. Just to kick his ass when he was able to.

In the meantime, Ka'am and Quaritch had gotten alot of free time together, which did make Lyle a little jealous. Quaritch and him were best friends, always had been in battle, and he was loyal to his leader.. But the sudden blue monkey coming inbetween made him a little tense. He wouldnt be forgotten at all, but it did bother him. For lyle just said at their basecamp, seeing Ka'am and Quaritch just have a serious chat far away so that their conversation couldnt be overheard, Lyle's ears just kind of flattened, glaring just a little bit. Ter'ran, who was leaning against a doorframe, noticed that specific look.. Smirking. "oh i know that look" Ter'ran said, smirking more wide as he looked tricky at Lyle who seemed to give him the side eye. "why dont you just mind your damn business before I'll beat your ass back into the cell again" Lyle said as Ter'ran laughed a bit. "My.. I'm frightened.." He said rather mocking, before jumping onto a table in the room.. Swinging his feet a little bit. Lyle decided to glare big time at the man in a 'dont test me' before Ter'ran hummed.

"well.. its gets boring if i focus on myself all the time, so I like to mind my business with others. Plus, because of y'all i'm stuck here, so you just gotta have to deal with me" Ter'ran said with the biggest grin, seeing Lyle just look away from him, but his neck was tightened. "unless you'd just let me roam freely.. And take my tracker off so you wont have to deal with me all the time" "Forget that Buttercup. You're not leaving us for a damn second" Lyle said threatening, making Ter'ran just smirk at him.. "But really.. I know that look" "Excuse me?" Lyle just started to get more pissed, turning to Ter'ran as ter'ran decided to just walk up to Lyle, lean against the table he was sitting at. "The 'my best friend just got taken away from me' look?.. Trust me I know" Ter'ran said more serious all the sudden, glaring a little into the same direction for Lyle would frown, to see the man seemed slightly pissed too.. But his anger was first ahead of him. "You have no idea what you're even talking about" Lyle sounded threatening again, making Ter'ran scoff a little. "I do big guy. i used to be prioritized.. Sorta, not immensely. But.. Seems things took a turn." Ter'ran said as he turned away from his glance towards Quaritch and ka'am.. Just walking a bit as his tail playfully moved along. "I guess the same happened to you huh" Ter'ran said a bit mocking, making Lyle eventually stand up, with his body rather tense. "I dont get all feelsy if thats what you're trying to achieve. Or if you try a saddening attempt to sympatize or such.. Get lost" Lyle said pissed.

Making Ter'ran laugh hiddenly.. "Oh boohoo.. aint that sad for the big man. You seem a hell of a lot angry" Ter'ran knew he was luring at this point, but he felt like it today.. Worse than usual. He was always a troublemaker, and with a knucklehead, full of testosterone manly man like Lyle, it could only led to worse. "You better shut up before i'll actually woop your ass to the point you're begging for mercy" "Make me" Ter'ran said as he smirked widely. "You're asking for it now." Lyle said as he dropped everything he was holding, tackling the man within seconds as they threw punches at each other for quite a while.. Eventually for Ter'ran got quite some souvenirs from Lyle who had been going rough on him.. Ter'ran just spit out some blood that the punches had caused.. But he just never gave in on being scared of lyle. He just loved this game almost.. After Ter'ran also had given the man quite some bruises and a punch in the face, Lyle ended up pinning the man on the ground, giving him no way to attack him anymore. "you're finally done?" Lyle asked him almost in a dare, for ter'ran just tried to breathe as his nose was bleeding. "no not really.." the man said still with a smirk, making Lyle about to punch him again.. "Why are you actually kind of handsome. I can see why you guys work out now, just to hand out punches to me personally." Ter'ran said as he did feel a bit dizzy, but he never knew to stop.. And lyle was not easy on him.

As soon as he heard the random thrown compliment, Lyle was a bit off guard to say the least, frowning at first before he glared and shook his head, standing up as he grabbed the man at the wrists. "Time out for you. Thats enough" Lyle said as he pulled the man roughly along to throw him in his 'time out' cell.. Closing the door right after dropping the man inside, Ter'ran jusy sat down as he sighed.. Noticing he had quite the bruises from this fight.. He didnt say anything, but a tricky smirk did stick on his face for a second or two as he saw lyle walk off.. Allowing himself to sit on the ground as he just caught more air that he finally could get. Those fights with lyle were quite exhausting, but as the troublemaker as he was.. this was just a fun game for him.

Quaritch and Ka'am returned back from their more private conversation further up, for the colonel noticed Lyle again having some bruises and a nosebleed added to that. "dont tell me you got in a fight again." Quaritch said for Ka'am just listened. "He's in his cell. He was asking for it quite literally" Lyle said before he actually walked off himself.. Still being thrown off by the compliment that Ter'ran gave.. 'what has gotten into him..' Quaritch thought, frowning. He hadnt seen Lyle so off guard in a long while.

A few hours later which had made the day turn into night already.. Ter'ran was just almost sleeping in his cell, still on the same place he sat down, the sudden noise of a door opening made him weary of his environment. Despite he was an asshole at times, he was a fighter of nature in the tribe and he was definitrly able to handle some hits.. Lyle stepped inside of the cell, grabbing Ter'ran at his arm to pull him up.. Pulling him firmly along like a real prisoner after cuffing his hands. "what are you doing?" Ter'ran just asked, making Lyle sound threatening again. "what does it look like. you're coming with me" the man said, taking him to a more secluded area in their base camp. "oh to a new cell?" Ter'ran said a bit mockingly, feeling Lyle was definitrly handling him even more rough than before.. But to his surprise, the room he was taken to this time, wasnt nessesairly a cell.

After being thrown into the room and Lyle locking it up after he got in himself, he turned to Ter'ran. "i dont know what sickening game you're playing. that thing you said.. Why" Lyle said, making Ter'ran arc an eye brow. "Said what.." "Oh you know exactly what I mean. You just said it to throw me off huh." Lyle said, making Ter'ran frown as he thought for a bit.. "I have no idea what you speak off" "Do not. Play with me like this" Lyle said, leaning close to Ter'ran who finally got the hint now.. "Ah. I see.. Didnt know it would have such a huge effect on you.. I dont know. I guess intrusive thoughts won?" Ter'ran said it so casually. "You hit me pretty damn hard against the head; maybe thats why I just said that outloud" Ter'ran said as he saw Lyle literally struggle with the information. "What... Is it the first time someone told you?" Ter'ran said for Lyle glared.. But as a silence hit.. Lyle eventually just continued to talk. "do you even mean it" Lyle asked dead serious, making Ter'ran frown. "what difference would that make?" "Just answer the goddamn question you bastard" Lyle got very forward, making Ter'ran just.. play it tricky. "Honestly. I dont know, havent decided yet" Ter'ran said with quite a big smirk on his face, making Lyle eventually just get him back in the cell.. But he jusy didnt want their conversation to be heard or listened to. And since the cell could record activities.. Lyle just didnt want that.

It didnt take long before Ter'ran was placed back on his cell, sitting comfortably on the ground as his hands were still cuffed, for just watching Lyle be so conflicted made Ter'ran himself just wonder.. It was going to be fun for sure. "I should've said that earlier.." he said in na'vi, grinning for the asshole that he was, liking to see that it completely messed Lyle up. He might not be the smartest of the clan, but his reactions were so clear, and Ter'ran knew this was going to be a fun adventure.

[meroniasecretexchange-blog]

A wine-stained date

Author : @all-my-lovely-fics

Gift for : @snow-white-sheep

Prompt : “You’re my waiter and I’m on a really crappy date with an asshole”

Author’s note : Hi ! I’m sorry because while this fanfiction technically fills the prompt, it’s obviously not what you expected. I still hope you’ll like it, I just loved this idea <3 I hope you’re having/you had a lovely holiday !

Mello drew up the list of everything he had done to prepare himself, checking and checking again that everything was in place and that he hadn’t forgotten anything. Not that he doubted of his plan, not at all, but his adversary was an infamous, ruthless mob boss, who monitored everything illegal in Los Angeles, and made his money from every traffic he could put his hands on - drugs, guns, prostitutes and some less tasteful goods too, while he was at it. He was the worst kind of scum, really, but he was incredibly talented when it came to destroy anyone on his way. Which Mello was.

After Kira’s capture, L’s title was still vacant. There was, of course, the fact that Light Yagami had spoiled the position, by using it as a cover to act as Kira, and nothing would ever be able to erase these years where L’s name has been a joke, but the real reason no one had taken the title yet was because… well, Near and Mello had both arrested him, sort of. And while Mello didn’t like to admit it, he couldn’t have done it without Near, and Near couldn’t have done it either without him. So they decided to pick up the new L the only way they knew : by playing. They had one year to prove that they were the most efficient when it came to catching criminals, and Armando Frozzi’s arrestation could well be the beginning of the end for Near. He knew that his rival was in Russia, looking for a nasty serial killer who mocked the police forces by sending them letters. Everyone was talking about it, not only in Russia but in the rest of the civilized world too, so Mello could be sure that Near wasn’t on his case.

Mello had managed to be hired in Frozzi’s favorite restaurant, the one he went twice a week, always with a date, always with a different date, some beautiful mannequins who barely spoke english and drank too much champagne.

And for tonight, Mello had a plan : he needed to get close enough to the guy to slip a tracker in his bag. It shouldn’t be that hard, but it was mandatory for the follow up of his plan. He wasn’t too worried : he knew how to talk to mafiosi, which string he had to pull. All he needed was some subtlety, and that was his speciality, wasn’t it ?

“Marvin ?” his boss called him, and walk-ran toward him, a disapproving look on his face. “I see two tables that need to be cleared off, and I see you, being payed and doing nothing, can you explain it to me ?”

Mello mentally quartered and skinned alive this asshole who had interrupted his thoughts, but since he couldn’t afford to be fired now, he bit his tongue and started to work, his attention still on the entrance door, waiting for Frozzi to come up at any instant. After thirty minutes where he watched the come-and-forth of these beautiful, boring, rich people, Frozzi’s figure appeared, large and threatening and the manager came to welcome him, in person, hugging his massive body for a brief moment. They were both smiling, but Mello knew where to look : the manager was terrified, and Frozzi’s wolfish grin told him that Frozzi knew it, and was delighted to see how he could affect him.

“Vincent ! How are you ?” he said, with a thick italian accent. “Do you have a free table for me and my friend ?”

Mello hadn’t noticed the person who was with Frozzi, but when the ‘friend’ he had brought walked into the light, Mello almost dropped the plates he was holding.

Because it was Near.

Fucking Near.

It was weird to see him without his usual pajamas, though he was still under-dressed for a place like this, with his too-large shirt and his pants that were falling on his shoes a little bit, but it was him, no doubt about that, with his ghost-like figure and his big, grey eyes. He probably felt Mello’s gaze on him, for he turned his head toward him and offered him a small, amused smile. He wasn’t surprised at all, he knew Mello would be there.

Great.

“What are you doing here ?” he silently mouthed to the albino’s address, whose smile widened a little more, becoming even more annoying, with very little effort from Near’s part. Typical.

The manager lead the two newcomers to a table, and Mello noted that it was in Patricia’s zone and quickly looked for her : she was talking to the barman ( who was also her boyfriend, it seemed ). He rolled his eyes and didn’t lose one second before interrupting their conversation.

“Patricia” he said “I take the 12, okay ?”

“Uh ?” she blinked, her slow, little brain trying to understand what he was saying to her. “Yeah, yeah, alright, whatever you want Marv’”

And she went back to her discussion with her boyfriend and Mello knew he had very, very little time to act. He could throw all his plan through the window, because nowhere was there an indication for the case where Near would be Frozzi’s… what ? date ? The idea was… ridiculous.

He picked a bottle of wine and put on his bet smile before heading toward Table 12.

“Good evening, gentlemen” he said. “Would you care for a glass of wine ? On the house, of course ?”

Frozzi nodded, obviously thinking that his social and professional status was the cause of this attention, and Mello filled his glass.

“Just a little for me, thank you” Near mumbled.

Mello offered him his brightest smile and dropped the bottle. It exploded on the marbled floor, projecting shards of glass and wine everywhere, especially on Near’s outfit - one knew how to touch its target or not, right ?

“I’m sorry” he apologized, looking at Frozzi’s face, all red and angered by the incident. “I’m sending you someone to take care of the glass. As for you ( he took Near’s arm and forced him to stand up ) I will show you the way to the bathroom. Again, my apologies.”

Without waiting for Frozzi to react, he dragged a wine-scented Near to the bathroom and the other boy didn’t put up a fight, beside looking at his stained clothes with distaste.

“There were news” he began when they were finally alone. “Rester bought them yesterday, it was pretty expensive.”

“Who gives a shit ?” Mello snapped, a little too loud, and threw a expectant look at the door, waiting to see if someone had heard him. Nothing. “Will you explain me what the fuck you are doing here ?”

Near shrugged. In the bathroom’s pale lightning, he looked even more sickly than usual. With the red stains all over his outfit, he looked like a corpse. Something that would have been tempting, years ago.

“I guess you could call that having a date. Could I have other clothes ? I really don’t like the smell…”

“What do you mean, a date ? Since when do you have dates with mafia boss ? Wait, scratch that, since when do you have dates at all ? You don’t do dates, you’re… you !”

Mello wasn’t particularly proud of the way his sentence ended but Near had never expressed any interest in the rest of mankind. Nevermind romantic interest.

“Any other day I would be happy to have a conversation on this topic, but for today, you’ll have to accept that I, indeed, do dates. As for the mafia boss part ? Hum… ( Mello’s eyes narrowed, because Near had this shit-eating grin proving that he was about to be an asshole with his next sentence ) I think I may have a type, what do you think ?”

Mello thought about Frozzi, huge and brown-haired and definitely way older than Near - he was thirty-five, almost thirty-six - and frowned.

“How the hell could I know what your type is, you weirdo ? I don’t care, I just want to tell you that I was on the case first, and you are not stealing it from me, I’ve worked hard on my plan and I won’t let anyone take it away from me.”

“I really don’t know what you are talking about” Near lied, even though he didn’t look like he was lying because Near was way too good at this. “Can I get other clothes ? I’m afraid my date won’t be happy to see me coming back just as disgusting as before ?”

Good, Mello thought.

“Also we spent a very long time in there. If I came out without anything different on me, it would be suspicious.”

Oh, fuck you.

Five minutes later, Near walked out of the bathroom all dressed in black - but not in leather, because the world was just not ready for that, in Mello’s opinion and will never be - after he washed off the stains on his skin with the hand soap and surrounded himself with a heady scent of strawberry.

Someone had cleaned up the glass and the wine when they came back and Frozzi was fumbling with his phone - which tingled Mello’s sense and set the alarms off, even if Near didn’t seem too bothered by it.

“I’m back, sorry for making you wait.”

“Ah, not at all, Neal, not at all.�� replied Frozzi, looking up with a charming smile. “These clothes are… different ?” he glared at Mello, as if he hadn’t improved Near’s look by his generous act.

“Yes” Near said. “Don’t you like it ?”

His voice was as dull as ever, as if he was trying to spit out some lines he would have learned from a random show on tv. Which was a possibility, Near had some really strange hobbies, after all. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and let them alone, while doing his best to spy on them whenever it was possible ( which wasn’t as often as he wished, for his main area was a little far away from Near and Frozzi’s table ). They were talking quietly, too quietly for Mello to hear them, and Frozzi smiled a lot, touching the albino’s hand multiple times, while Near didn’t react.

It was fine, Mello decided. He could still slip the tracker in Frozzi’s bag. It was even easier since he didn’t have to avert someone else’s attention : Near was a pain in the ass but he wouldn’t say anything if he saw what Mello was doing.

The tracker hidden in his closed fist, he approached them swiftly, pretending to check on the barman ( Patricia wasn’t there anymore, maybe she was finally working a little ), or on some other table where a family was already eating.

And then he saw it. Frozzi slipping something in Near’s glass.

Poison. It was the first thing Mello thought. Frozzi’s ennemies tended to die, poisoned. So that was it : if Mello still didn’t know why Near was with Frozzi, it was obvious that the mafia boss had found out about him and was decided to kill one of L’s successor. Or maybe he didn’t even know about it, maybe Near had been stupid - as weird as it sounded - and was investigating him himself, and because he had the subtlety of a truck, the guy had guessed what he was trying to do.

Stupid Near. Who didn’t seem to react to the poisoning of his drink. When Frozzi raised his glass to propose a toast, Near followed him.

He had to do something.

He almost ran until their table.

“Oh, are you celebrating something ?” Mello asked, forcing them to put their glass down. “What kind of celebration ? Anniversary of your couple, maybe ? Should I ask the chief for something a little more… festive ?”

Frozzi glared at Mello. Mello didn’t dare to look at Near. It wasn’t the moment to try to give him a silent message, it was the time to save his ass, again.

He really hoped that would give him some points

“We’ll be fine without your antics, thank you” he barked.

“Oh, come on !” Mello replied, and he took their drinks in his hands. They were both half-full of red wine, without distinctive mark on them, and he went to the bar, asking for a couple of these ridiculous little umbrellas used for cocktails to put into their drinks.

“Here” he said, bringing back their glass, making sure to give the poisoned glass to Frozzi, just in case he was stupid enough to get back to his plan, though the odds were low. And indeed, Frozzi’s face was ugly, twisted by his rage.

“Which one was yours ?” he asked to Near, throwing any pretense of niceness by the window.

Near shrugged and pointed at Frozzi’s glass. He was still playing the ‘innocent’ card, but there was no way this wasn’t an act, not with everything happening around him.

“This one, I think ? It seems a little fuller ? Or maybe I’m wrong, I’m sorry I didn’t notice”

Frozzi’s eyes narrowed, and Mello could guess that his brain was processing what just happened. He glared at both of them, and Mello saw him do the movement he had seen other mafiosi do so many times, fumbling in his pocket for his gun.

“Shit” Mello mumbled. He didn’t even have this gun, why didn’t he have his gun ? Rule number one : always have your gun. His eyes travelled around the restaurant, trying to look for an escape when…

CRAAAAASHPL

Near crashed the wine’s bottle over Frozzi’s head who passed out immediately because of the shock. Once again, shards of glass were sprayed around the table, and the wine gave a beautiful, crimson color the the scene.

Everyone in the restaurant was looking at them, wide-eyed, unable to understand what had just happened.

“It’s fine” Mello said. “This guy was being a little too forward. Please respect the personal boundaries of your partners or it could happen to you.”

Mello swore Near was smiling, his weird little smile that was so annoying most of the time, but was flattering on this occasion. Unfortunately, someone stood up and went to look for the manager. Time to fly, I guess.

“We need to go, puffball” he commented.

Near frowned, he had probably hoped that Mello had let his string of stupid nicknames in the past, but took out his phone.

“Gevanni is there ( he threw a look at Frozzi’s body, still unconscious ). Is he dead ?” he asked.

“Nope, your boyfriend will still be able to take you on dates and to try to poison you in the future. Love survives everything, you know that, right ?” Mello joked, while they moved toward the exit under everyone’s shocked stares.

“We weren’t on a date”

“Wow, you don’t say, could have fooled me, I swear. Wear a better shirt, next time, it might help.”

Gevanni was parked just in front of the restaurant - which was illegal but who cared, really - and they rushed inside.

“I like this one alright” Near said. “Too bad it’s stained with wine, again. As the rest of my person, I should say.”

He was almost pouting, and Mello grinned, leaning until he was able to lick the wine off Near’s lips. The white-haired boy froze, moving away so far that he hit the back of his head against the car’s window.

“You okay ?” Mello chuckled. “I didn’t cross any line, did I ? I would hate to end up like the poor guy inside the restaurant.”

Near looked at him for a long, awkward minute and then shook his head, his cheeks red but his tone still as composed as ever.

“It’s fine. You’re my type, after all.”