#was he prepping to be bashed with an axe like what

[idknotgonnapost]

u guys remember when axe and grind aired and just the entire feed was just ‘caraJO i think u broke one of my rIIIBss’ and also the one handed belt removal (and leg removal) okay whatever it was just sooo iconic . Oh and he got his nails did

[kuvvydraws]

I'm sorry but I really enjoy the whole Raavi and the bad sans Castle.

I absolutely adore the idea of them welcoming Raavi into their relationship.

Nightmare being able to see through his facade and tell when he's upset. When Raavi first stays with them in the castle Night seems pretty emotionless. But the moment Raavi locks himself away in his room Night would sit by the door and just start talking.

"You know it's okay to be upset, if locking yourself away is what helps then I'll leave you to it. But, everyone was worried when you didn't come down for breakfast. Perhaps you want to talk? Or have a cuddle pile? Axe has been prepping his nest, everyone would like to make sure you're okay."

Night will sit by the door until Raavi comes out. And if they find out someone hurt him... Well the boys don't take that lightly.

Don't be sorry, I didn't know I was going to enjoy the dysfunctional bunch so much when I first discovered them and now I can't be stopped! I just love the trope of haywire blorbos going soft for the silly one.

-

Raavi is one skeleton who thrives with attention under the normal circumstances, and they'll happily insert themselves in the dynamics of the castle, for better or worse, and while they're not as destructive or violent as the rest of the sanses there, that doesn't mean they're not bringing a whole bag of shenanigans with them to drive them crazy.

While Raavi doesn't usually let others get close during a bad day, by far preferring to wander and hole away in a lost room beyond the usual corridors, they won't have the energy to shoo anyone away - Raavi becomes a pretty plain, washed out character during those days, barely a smidge of personality shining through, replaced by tasteless neutrality or an upset frown. Starving is not that easy for them considering the immense amount of magic they have, and they'd give whoever finds them some sort of life sign to reassure them that, yes, they're still there, thanks for checking in, they'll see them in 3 to 5 business days.

Unfortunately for the murder group, Raavi already has a bloodthirsty bodyguard in the shape of a brother, who's going to tear the city apart in search for whomever dared upset his sibling. They're going to be late to the butchering.

However, like most things, Raavi's bad days come without warning, loneliness wrapping around them like a blanket, and their cheery façade falls in exchange for a deep sadness - there is, after all, a reason behind their love for big, noisy crowds and busy environments, the hustle and bustle helps keep the dark thoughts away. At least Nightmare can get a good meal out of them?

When they see the overlord again, they're going to be bashful and pretend nothing too serious happened, "thanks for being there... I'd give you a kiss but, man, the goop, you know?"

[ericsonclan]

Made to Last

Summary: Allison's mind is clouded by fear and negative thoughts causing Prisha and Violet to worry and go check up on her.

Word Count: 2549

Read on AO3:

Allison stared up blankly at the beams of her bunk bed, her eyes studying the metal. Her mind seemed weighed down by what was spiraling in it. She didn’t know what it was but for some reason an uneasy feeling had washed over her the moment she had woken up today. A feeling that made her heart feel heavy and sent a tingling feeling down her arms that made the hairs stand on end. It wasn’t a feeling that she never experienced before, it was just that over time it had lessened. But now it had resurfaced.

She knew the reason why it had come back: it was because life was too good right now. She had a roof over her head, didn’t have to listen to the strict rules that had been beaten into her over the years while she was with the Delta, she had a group that felt like family to her and a place that felt like home, an uncommon concept for Allison ever since the world fell apart. She began to nervously pet the possum that was sleeping on her lap, her fingers rubbing the fur in between them as her mind continued to spin.

She had people who really truly loved her, wanted the best for her and would do anything to protect her. The thought terrified Allison. Not because she didn’t want that love but she was worried that sooner or later she would lose it. She always did. Allison knew the cold, hard truth: nothing lasts forever.One day the other shoe would drop and she would be back where she was years ago. Alone and afraid. It had happened before and it would happen again. With a groan, Allison scooted up into a sitting position, causing Garbage to tumble over with an annoyed hiss.

“Sorry,” Allison picked up the possum and placed it beside her, giving it a few loving pats before getting off the bed. It didn’t matter if she felt down today, there was work to be done and she was going to it. Her feet dragged across the floor as she grabbed her spear hammer and exited her and Willy’s dorm room. Her footsteps echoed throughout the hall and her mind wandered back towards the negative thoughts that plagued her mind. It was clear that they would be there for the entire day but there was nothing she could do.

So she continued down the hall and towards the door that led to the courtyard. The lively sounds of chatter made her glance up to see AJ happily playing with some of the younger kids while Prisha tinkered away at one of the picnic tables. Why she hadn’t bothered to go over to the workshop Allison had a pretty good guess. Knowing her it was probably that Prisha had gotten too caught up in the latest invention and couldn’t wait to work on it. Allison’s attention was pulled away from her parental figure, however, when she heard a bright, lively voice call out her name.

“Allie!” Willy ran over and stopped right in front of her with a  huge grin. The smile faded for a second though when he noticed her gloomy aura. “Hey, are you doing okay?” he asked with a concerned expression.

Allison looked up her boyfriend and gave a short nod. “Yeah,” Her eyes looked down at the ground again.

Willy didn’t seem to buy it. “Well, I have to go hunting with Aasim but when I get back we can talk. Okay?” His eyes tried to search hers but she kept them hidden, only giving a short nod in response. Willy wrapped her up in a hug and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “A kiss to help you feel better until I’m back,” He pulled back and gave a loving smile. Allison gave a short smile back and Willy gave her hand a quick squeeze before readjusting the bow on his back and running over to the front gate where Aasim was waiting. The two goateed men gave their final goodbye waves then headed out for the day to check the traps.

Allison’s dark eyes focused on the gate for a second, a small inkling of fear appearing in her mind before she squashed in and continued strolling further into the courtyard to see where she could help for the day.

Something was up. Violet may be partially blind but even she could tell that something was different with Allison today. Her stoic, calm demeanor had a more pessimistic edge to it and the emotions in her words felt more cut off and stilted. The blonde stared at the herb in her hand and tried to think of some sort of way to get Allison to open up about what was bugging her.

“You’re looking at that herb rather intensely.” Prisha’s voice appeared beside her. Violet glanced up at her love who leaned over and gave a gentle kiss before sitting down.

“Got stuff on my mind,” Violet began to pick at the herbs to prep them to dry for future meals. She remained silent for a moment as she adjusted her glasses then spoke again. “Something seems off with Allison today,”

“You’ve noticed that too,” Prisha’s voice held a worried edge. “I figured at first it was just that she hadn’t slept well since it was rather cold last night but now,” Prisha’s eyes wandered over to the girl in question. Allison was drawing pictures with a stick along with Savannah and Maisy who seemed to be having much more fun than Allison. The girl looked rather sad and lost in her thoughts. Prisha and Violet continued to watch for a minute or two. “I wonder what we can do.”

Violet thought about it for a few seconds. “Let’s go fishing together. I find going there helps clear my head. I can do this work afterwards.”

“Alright, that sounds good.” Prisha rose to her feet and offered her hand to Violet. The two wandered over towards Allison who glanced up when they drew near.

“Hey,” Allison mumbled then returned to her drawing.

“We’re going to the fishing shack and we need your help,” Prisha’s words made Allison glance up at her two parental figures again.

“Why?”

“Because it looks like you could use it,” Violet’s words caught Allison off guard and a flicker of shock and sadness danced in her eyes before they returned to their usual stoic look.

“Fine,” Allison got up and handed over the stick to Savannah. “Gotta go. I’ll draw later.” Those words made the kids sad but they soon returned to drawing. The trio began to get ready to head out, grabbing the necessary buckets then making their way to the gates when suddenly Louis’ bright smile appeared before them.

“Hey, where are you three lovely people heading?”

“Out,” Violet muttered and double checked to make sure her meat cleaver was securely in its sheath.

“We’re going to the fishing shack. I figure with all three of us we could get quite the haul.” Louis studied Prisha’s face for a moment and picked up the fact that there was clearly more going on here than just a family fishing trip.

“Okay, well, be sure to stay safe!” He gave a friendly wave then ran off towards the garden to help Clementine. With that the trio was off, wandering down the well-treaded path towards the fishing shack. Allison was silent the whole way there, only making a sound when she faced off against a walker as she bashed its skull in with the hammer part of her spear. Prisha and Violet didn’t push for any conversation, figuring it would be best to focus on such things when they were working on catching fish.

Prisha let go of Violet’s hand for a moment as they walked toward the shack when she noticed a walker roaming nearby, unclipping her ice axe and swinging at its skull. The dull light in its eyes faded away as it crumbled to the ground. Soon Allison and Violet had caught up with Prisha who put away her weapon.

“I’ll get the spears. Come on, Allison,” Violet walked forward and held open the door. Allison muttered a thanks and walked forward too, immediately making her way to where the fishing spears were placed. Grabbing one for herself, she grabbed another and handed it to Violet then grabbed a third one for Prisha. With spears in hand the pair went back outside where Prisha gave them a warm smile as she just finished placing down the buckets. “Ready to catch some fish?”

Prisha’s question was met by a half-hearted shrug by Allison. She took a spot by a small patch of dried-out grass and held up the spear as her eyes focused on the water. Violet and Prisha shared a look before taking their own fishing spots. Violet stood on a small rock by the water’s edge while Prisha took a spot on the other side of Allison.

“So, you seem a bit lost in your thoughts,” Prisha began, studying the water before jabbing her spear and catching the first fish.

“You can share if you want,” Violet added as her gaze remained on the water’s surface. Allison remained silent, her mind swarming with too many thoughts. Her gaze flinched for a moment, causing her to miss an easy catch. Allison remained quiet but the look in her eyes showed enough for the two to know that whatever was plaguing her mind wasn’t letting go.

“I’ll catch the next one,” was all Allison said before her stoic expression took over her face once more. This should be a nice moment to have with some of the people she cared about most. Instead she felt tense and lost.

As her dark eyes looked down at the water, Allison was reminded of happier times with those she had lost over the years. Different faces appeared through her mind: happy, bright people that this life had taken away from her. Those who deserved to have simply, joyful moments like she had been able to have at Ericson. The feeling of sadness overwhelmed her and tears appeared at the rims of her eyes.

“Allison,” Prisha’s concerned tone made Allison frown as she angrily brushed away her tears.

“I know,” The girl replied simply and stabbed the water even though there wasn’t a fish in sight. “I know how the world works.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Violet took a step down from her fishing spot and looked towards her daughter figure. Allison took a shaky breath and glanced over towards Violet.

“Things are too good right now. I have too much: Willy, you, Prisha.” Her grip tightened on the fishing spear. “Sooner or later, I’ll lose one of you.”

“Allison, I know that the world is cruel, but there’s no need to fear.” Prisha reassured. “Willy, Violet and myself along with all the others - we’ll be safe.”

“Others have said that too!” Allison snapped and looked at Prisha, “And now they are dead!”

Prisha was taken aback by Allison’s sharp tone but she couldn’t blame her for her reaction. Life had truly been unkind to the girl. It seemed as though it enjoyed giving her the false hope that things could be good then pulled the rug out from under her. Leaving her to pick up the broken pieces of a heart that she struggled to keep together.

“You’re right, others have said that and then they ended up dead,” Violet put down her spear and crossed her arms, her own emotions beginning to twist her heart. “That's just the kind of bullshit world we live in. But we have each other and we’ll fight tooth and nail to keep each other safe.” Her pale eyes locked with Allison’s dark ones. “I can guarantee that.”

“We will continue to protect each other,” Prisha caught another fish and used the edge of the bucket to push it off the spear. “Ericson is our home, one that is built to last. And together I believe we’ll remain safe for years to come. We won’t disappear on you.”

Those words made Allison look away. Clearly it hadn’t been the best choice of words but regardless she knew that Prisha had the best intentions. Violet and Prisha weren’t perfect, they couldn’t offer the perfect words to her but they were trying. They made it clear that they wouldn’t give up on Allison. She knew Willy never would either, everyone at Ericson would be there for her. That thought made Allison’s heat calm and recenter. Allison stared at the ground for a few seconds then resumed her fishing stance. With a deep breath she jabbed the water and caught a fish. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Violet and Prisha shared a relieved look; they knew they couldn’t make those thoughts fully disappear but they would always be there to reassure Allison. The three began to fish again, their conversations turning to lighter topics as the buckets grew more and more full.

After a while Allison stepped back from the stream, a small smile on her face. “We should head back,” She began to move towards the fishing shack when Prisha spoke up.

“It’s not too late. If you’d like we could wander down the stream and look for some rocks,” Those words made Allison’s eyes shine in excitement. With a quick nod, she took the three spears and placed them away in the shack before reemerging, ready to add to her collection. The three of them walked along the stream, all of them on careful lookout for any unusual rocks.

“Allison, I think I found one.” Violet looked up from her spot where she crouched by a deep grey rock that was smoothed from being tossed and turned in the water. Allison knelt down and picked it up, closely examining it before giving a happy small smile. Violet returned the smile then continued on with the search. After a while they had found four rocks that Allison was proud to add to her collection. With a smile Violet picked up one of the buckets and took Prisha’s hand in hers while Allison took the other bucket and walked along Violet’s other side. The three walked in content silence as a few leaves fell from the trees that covered the path back home.

“Thanks,” Allison’s voice drew the other two’s attention towards her. “I did need that.” She gave a small smile which Prisha and Violet mirrored then continued to walk forward. As they neared the gates, Allison’s eyes caught sight of her pet crow. Crowbar was in the middle of staring intently at one of the bars of the gates before he heard the sharp whistle from his human friend. He flew over and greeted Allison with a caw. She looked up at him with a soft expression.

“Allie!” Willy smiled and gave a wave from the watchtower. The gesture made Allison’s heart warm; in that moment all her fears and sadness washed away. Her heart and mind instead focused on the positive and all the good that she had right now. She wanted to make sure she had this happiness for as long as possible.

[withlove-so]

Hi I really love your writing!!! Do you think I could get a fic where Byleth is cleaning up Caspar's wounds after a particularly nasty battle??? Thank you!!! uwu 💖💖💖

Anything for my cute waifu uwu 💕

I might have gone a bit… too crazy with it, but I hope it’s enjoyable. I also did just a sort a reader perspective rather than Byleth, so I hope that’s okay!

(I’m sorry if the cut doesn’t work mobile users, I’m not sure if it’s gonna work)

—

Word count: 2,037

Fluff; mentions of blood, minor

— — —

Your Shield

Ever since Caspar was a just a student, he had a tendency to put himself needlessly in danger. It seemed like nobody was allowed to get hurt as long as he was around. It didn’t matter if it was an axe threatening to slice through someone’s throat or a simple slash from a dagger, he was rushing over ready to keep them safe. After Caspar had nearly been skewered during one of the skirmishes, you had tried helplessly to stop his reckless behavior.

“What, it’s not like I actually got stabbed, I moved my shield in time!”

“Yes, you protected yourself this time. But look, you just moved the blow, it still scrapped your side. You need to realize your not invincible Cas.”

“So, I was just supposed to let you get killed? Was I supposed to just stand there and watch it happen?”

“Nobody in this army is made of glass, myself included. We can take care of ourselves. We aren’t going to magically die off if you don’t come over to protect us.”

“Maybe not, but I’m not going to just stand around and wait for it to happen. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

He was difficult to understand back then. Even now, you supposed, since he was virtually unchanged. He was still head strong, reckless, a bit too noisy for his own good, and still charging head first into danger. The amount of times you’d seen him trudge into the medical tent after a fight was uncountable. The amount of times he’d walked in with blood coating his body, whether it was his own or someone else’s you couldn’t tell, was absolutely sickening to see. But no matter how many times you lectured him, he never seemed to listen.

You feared that, one day, this negligence would be his down fall.

And prayed that the Goddess wouldn’t see it as a challenge.

Fighting former classmates never seemed to get easier. Even if they were supposed to be our enemies, it was impossible to look at them and not see their face from years ago, smiling and laughing the days away. Now more than ever did you understand this as you stood at Gronder field, surrounded on all sides by the people you thought you’d always be with. Having to face them now… It felt unbearable.

Standing face to face with Felix, someone you’d spared with often, ate together, hell you’d even seen him smile once or twice, it was like twisting the knife.

“Felix, please,” Despite what your words, you begin to nock your arrow, “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“It does. As long as you stand against us, this is how it has to be.” You’d expected a frontal assault, for him to charge in sword bared and ready to cut through your defenses. That you’d have time to prep your arrow, to shoot him down before he could close the distance. But of course that’s not what happened because when is war ever that simple, when are soldiers ever so easy to read.

Not even Felix would fight a losing battle.

He flicks his wrist up, electricity sparking at his finger tips. When had he learned magic? Over the five years, he’d really grown a lot. He was so much like his father. Perhaps, if he killed you, you’d see him on the other side. You fumbled desperately, trying to take aim before he released but you could feel the energy closing in and it was blinding in your eyes and just as you thought you’d feel the life leave your body as lightning entered it, you were enveloped in cool shadows. Sparks practically traveled through his eyes, that damned grin he always wore was torn up as he gasped out in pain. His shield, the one thing he promised would keep him safe, laid lamely on the ground, covered in dust. His hand sat heavily on your shoulders.. And he was shaking.

Did Caspar ever shake?

He chuckled a bit, tried to say something but it died out on his tongue as his knees gave out under him and Oh no please don’t let him die Goddess I’m begging you PLEASE!

Your eyes met Felix’s for a moment, his eyes unsympathetic. Unwavering. But he turned away all the same, his sword gripped in frustration. There wasn’t time to worry about him now. You tried to desperately move Caspar away from the fighting, but he was much heavier than you had anticipated. You managed to hide him behind a tree trunk, gasping heavily from exhaustion. But at least he would be safe. For the most part.

His eyes still hadn’t opened, but he was mumbling something under his breath.

“Caspar… Caspar open your eyes! Dammit…” You didn’t know much about healing, but you had to try something. So you flipped him over ever so slightly, just enough to see his back. The sight made you want to gag. His shirt had been torn by the blast, leaving the cloth charred. His back, already covered in scars and even some fresh wounds, now had a spider web of energy pulsating through. The light zig zagged all through out his back, cutting through scars long closed and allowing fresh blood to seep through. You blinked away from the sight, relaxing your thoughts before raising a tentative hand to his back.

Many soldiers had said that healing magic felt like a tickle, or like a soft light was enveloping them before slowly vanishing into nothing. Yet as you tried to now, Caspar groaned out, shifting ever so slightly away with the little energy he had. The strike must have affected him deeply… perhaps the blast had hurt him so deeply your magic couldn’t reach… fear over took your common sense as you continued to try and heal him. It took a lot of time and energy, but the light did begin to fade from the veins. The scar still showed through, plain as day, but at least he didn’t seem to be in as much pain. Placing one hand lightly against his back, you felt your own head begin to fuzz. Perhaps you had… exhausted ju… just a bit too… m…… m

m……………

…

…….

As the light began to return to your eyes, you had to blink to even properly process it. It was irritating for just a moment, and just as you wished you could close your eyes and fall back asleep, suddenly your memory was flooded. Everything that happened came to you in waves and yours snapped open.

“Caspar! Caspar, where-“ You whipped your head around desperately, relief flooding your system when you saw him sat on the floor, eating a small snack.

Goddess, bless you for this. He’s awake and alive and here now with that damnably dumb look. Thank you for this chance.

You wanted to yell, get angry at him for what he did, make him regret returning to the living, but all you could do was sob. Tears trailed down your face as you tried to get the words out you so desperately wanted to say. To give him thanks for saving your life, to tell him you were glad he was still alive, to tell him…

But all that came out was a bubbly cry.

“Cas… Cas you moron! You absolute idiot!! You stupid, stupid, stupid!” You hadn’t used that nickname for a long time now… you’d forgot how natural it felt on your tongue.

He couldn’t seem to respond, his eyes were clearly guilty but he wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say.

“Don’t you ever do that again! If you do, I’ll… I’ll make sure to kill you myself! I,” you hiccuped, “I… dammit… you’re alive…. You’re alive.”

“I am.”

“You’re back… you’re back, is it…?”

“Scarred? Still hurting? Yea. It still feels like I just got struck to be honest. But, there’s no way I’d ever take back what I did.”

“Cas, you almost died! Not just got hurt, but died! If you had died because of my mistake, do you know how-! How-!” Nothing seemed to be making any sense, you were shaking to your mind was whirling with everything you wanted to say, it all just started tumbling out.

“I would have, would have been crushed. If you had just… and I couldn’t see you. I couldn’t spar with you again, or eat with you, or fish or or- I wouldn’t have you Cas! Just like… just like everyone else. They’re either dead or, or their gone somewhere else or they want us dead and I! Cas I don’t think I could handle losing someone else, not you or Dorothea or even Hubert! Please, please I’m begging you… I know, I know you want to keep us safe but, please, just… stay alive. Please.”

The room was silent beyond the occasional sobbing that once again escaped your lips. Until you finally got your quiet response.

“I… can try. I’ll try to stay alive. I can’t promise I won’t try and protect you but… I’ll do my best to survive, okay?” By the Goddess, he really was a moron.

He was an idiot.

A half wit.

And absolute nut case.

And you loved him.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Did that make you a half wit as well? Perhaps.

“You’re so stupid Cas… that’s the opposite of what I asked but… hah, alright, I’ll take what I can get.”

And then struck by silence once again.

“You know,” Caspar dared a look in your direction, his thumbs twiddling about distractedly, “I… I’m glad you’re okay. I was afraid I wouldn’t get to you on time, that if I were too slow, Felix might have…” Caspar was acting uncharacteristically bashful, glancing around at his hands, the wall, just about anything other than your eyes.

You hopped up, slowly at first due to your aching muscles, and slumped down onto the floor next to Caspar. You looked at his back and, sure enough, there were the zig zagging marks covering his entire back. You lightly placed your finger tips on to one of the veins, letting out a small sigh, “Had I been just a bit faster… you wouldn’t have this marking now.”

“What? No, this isn’t your fault I just… Ah, it’s mine, I know I’m reckless and a danger to myself, but I couldn’t stand around.”

“You never could… could you.”

“Heh… I guess not”

You trace your finger across another familiar marking. A large, now slightly opened gash from their days at the academy. The very scar that had caused you to lash out at Caspar for his recklessness all those years ago. It must have been extra sensitive from the damage it took, Caspar shook underneath your touch. You take your finger away, mumbling out an apology.

In an instant, your met face to face with the same lightning charged eyes. Now filled with excitement and wonder and…

His smile was beaming, curling lovingly around his eyes as he let out a small laugh.

“You don’t think something like this is going to hurt me do you? I’m much tougher than that, just look at me! I can handle just about anything.”

“Anything? That’s a bold statement Bergliez. Think you can live up to it?” You smirked at your taunt, you couldn’t help but want to entertain him.

“Of course! Anything you can dish out, I can take ten fold.”

“Really?” A mischievous thought wormed it’s way into your head, and maybe it was from the exhaustion or the heat of the moment, but you didn’t think to stop yourself, “Can you handle this Cas?”

You leaned forward, closing the already short distance between you. His lips were dry and cracked from the attack and yet it was the sweetest feeling in the world. As you pulled back, resting your forehead lightly against his own, you could help but feel cocky after seeing the expression you’d left him with.

Embarrassment, confusion, happiness, all wrapped up into one long sputter, “Wha, I um… that, you. Did you just, did /we?/ Did that happen just now I didn’t, this isn’t like some fantasy my fried brain cooked up, this actually happened, right?”

“As long as my own brain isn’t fried, I’d say it actually happened.”

“Well, if that’s all you got, then I can dish it out ten fold, just like I said!”

[carrotsofavonlea]

You Can’t Thwart Destiny

Chapter nine: Fool’s Gold

Anne and Gilbert agreed to meet Nate at the mines before returning back to the palace so they could get the money.

Gilbert kept some money hidden in his room, so he and Anne decided to sneak up, knowing Bash was usually busy during the day.

Anne felt a little awkward being in Gilbert's room. It was just a room in her palace, but it still seemed so private like she was trespassing. He had left a sweater discarded on the back of a chair and her copy of Jane Eyre that she'd given back to him to borrow was left on the desk. It was nice, like seeing pieces of his personality scattered about the place. She noticed a small photograph on his bedside table and carefully picked it up.

It was a younger Gilbert, looking about six years old and smiling a goofy grin, missing one of his front teeth. He was with what looked like his father. The man also had a smile. It wasn't an official royal photo, it was a private, family photo.

"That's me and my father." Gilbert came up behind her, pointing the the photo.

She could feel he was stood very close to her, and couldn't bring herself to turn around.

"What about your mother?"

He stepped back and she finally turned around. "She died when I was born. It was just my father and I for so long. But he also got sick...so the kingdom is my responsibility now."

Anne looked down a moment and then met his eyes. "My parents both died when I was a baby too. That's why Marilla is in charge, until I'm old enough and married."

She felt herself blush at the word "married" for some reason. "But I think I'm capable of running the kingdom by myself. And this money will prove that to Marilla."

"I don't doubt for a second you'll be the greatest Queen this Kingdom has ever known."

They held each other's gaze again, Anne feeling her heart in her throat.

"Anne?" Gilbert whispered, stepping closer to her.

"Yeah?" She looked up at him, deciding that whatever was about to happen she would let happen.

"I...I uh," he tilted his head and she began to lean in to.

"Blythe?" Bash's voice made them jump about ten feet apart.

"Bash?" Gilbert's voice increased an octave. "Why are you here? You're normally busy helping with wedding prep."

Bash looked at Anne and then grinned. "Glad to see you two finally getting along. Maybe too well?"

Gilbert and Anne exchanged an awkward glance.

"What? No. Ew!"

"Gross. We're not-"

They started talking over each other and Bash just laughed. "Ah, young lovers."

"We're not-" Anne began to say but Bash had already started leaving.

"I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. I won't tell the Duchess."

Anne hid her burning face in her hands. Gilbert awkwardly shuffled on his feet.

"I'll uh...get the money." He said and disappeared to find a bag of coins.

Anne put her hand over her heart, trying to calm it down. That was a close call…

-------------------------------

"Anne?" Diana caught Anne and Gilbert sneaking down the staircase. "Are you going somewhere?"

Anne froze but Gilbert handled the situation. "We're going on a stroll around the castle grounds."

Diana looked at Anne, "Is that true?"

Anne nodded, "Uh huh, yep. We're going on a platonic stroll. As friends."

Diana narrowed her eyes and Anne knew she couldn't lie.

"Fine. We're going to the mines. We have a way to end this marriage."

"Anne this is dangerous." Diana grabbed her hand but Anne shook her off.

"Diana, we'll be fine. I promise."

Diana nodded, letting them go.

------------------------------

Gilbert and Anne took two of the palace horses and made their way to the mines. When they arrived, Nate had already set up equipment.

He took the money from Gilbert, grinning as he did so. "This should cover the expenses. Thank you."

Gilbert seemed skeptical, but Anne placed her hand over his. "This will work. And then we'll be free. We won't have to get married."

He gave her a fake smile, his stomach sinking a little.

"Freedom." He tried to laugh and Anne smiled back.

"You ready?" Nate clapped his hands together enthusiastically. "I'll show you where the gold is."

Gilbert gestured for Anne to follow Nate and he followed behind them into the darkness. They each had a lantern.

Nate suddenly stopped walking when they reached an open cavern in the mine. There was an old mine cart, a few barrels, and some pickaxes. There were a few rocks lying about on the floor, but along the walls were flecks of gold shining from the tiny beam of light from the tunnel behind them.

Anne's eyes grew wide. She ran her hand along the walls, holding the lantern up to see better.

Nate picked up an axe and pulled some gold out of the wall, placing it in Gilbert's hand.

"Wow." He studied it, but then he noticed something. It didn't seem quite right.

"I'm going to go get some of the other guys and we'll get mining. Feel free to have a look around." Nate tipped his cap and left the mine.

Once Nate was gone, Gilbert turned to Anne. "We've been tricked."

"What? Gilbert stop being ridiculous."

He held up the gold. "This isn't real gold. It's too sparkly, a bit like a diamond. Gold isn't like this. It's pyrite."

"Pyrite?"

"More commonly known as-"

"Fool's Gold…" Anne finished his sentence.

There came a loud noise of what sounded like rocks caving in.

Gilbert dropped the pyrite and ran through the tunnel, Anne quickly following behind.

But when they got there, they found only darkness. The entrance to the mine had fallen in.

"What the…?" Gilbert pushed against the wall. "He's locked us in?"

Anne hit the wall with her fists. "LET US OUT!" she started screaming.

"HELP!" Gilbert shouted.

"Thank you for your generous donation." Nate shouted from behind the rocks. He had tricked them.

"By order of the Princess of Avonlea I demand you let us out!"

But it was no use.

"He's probably long gone with our money." Gilbert slumped to the floor, running a hand through his hair.

" Your money." Anne corrected.

She hadn't seen him so down. Suddenly, Gilbert stood up, marching through the tunnels.

"Gilbert what are you doing?"

He kicked a rock against the wall and it broke.

"He took the pickaxe!" Gilbert became frantic. She thought he'd remain calm but he wasn't. He was angry. It was so unlike him. "We can't dig our way out. We're trapped."

He sunk to the floor, leaning back against the wall.

"I'm sorry Anne. I should've stopped this."

Anne sat down next to him. "Gilbert, Diana knows we're here. I don't doubt she's on her way right now with Jerry to come save us."

He sighed. "I know. But it's still my fault for giving him the money. I should've...I should've just grabbed your hand and run when I had a bad feeling."

"No it's my fault. I should've just done my duty and gotten married." She leaned her head back against the wall.

"You did what you thought was best for your kingdom." He looked down at his hands. "Having some random prince interfering isn't what they need. But being stuck down here with him isn't helping either."

She smiled a little, looking at him out the corner of her eye. "For what it's worth, you're not the worst person to be stuck with."

He looked down at her, "Is Princess Anne giving me an almost compliment?"

"Shut up." She playfully nudged him.

"You can't deny we're at least friends now."

She shrugged. "I don't know."

He laughed, "You know we were born to be the best of friends Anne. You've thwarted destiny long enough."

She rolled her eyes, "Is that so?"

He smiled his cheesy grin, "You can't thwart destiny Anne, no matter how hard you try."

She laughed, then sighed, letting her head fall against his shoulder. Part of her wished Diana would take her time. Once they were out of here, Anne didn't know what would happen. The wedding would probably be called off, Gilbert lost a lot of money and Marilla would no doubt start looking for a richer prince, maybe that Roy again. She shuddered at the thought.

Gilbert watched her, scared to move in case he frightened her away. He didn't know when it had started, but he knew he'd fallen for her. She wasn't afraid to challenge him, but when it came down to the important stuff, they'd found common ground. He liked how passionate she was about things, how she was willing to do whatever it takes for her kingdom.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself to tell her how he felt. "Anne, I-"

But once again he was interrupted. Anne's eye had landed on something shining on the floor and she leapt up.

"Gilbert look!"

He followed her over to where she had crouched down. It was the rock he had kicked earlier. He hadn't thought anything of it other than that it had broken when it smashed against the wall.

Anne turned it over in her hands, revealing the sparkling from inside.

"Are these-"

"Geodes." Anne smiled, holding up half of the rock, brimming with crystals.

They gave each other a knowing smile. Maybe they hadn't found gold, but they'd found crystals. The kingdom would be saved.

She dropped it, throwing her arms around Gilbert's neck. He picked her up, spinning her around. They were both caught up in the moment, forgetting that this meant they wouldn't have to get married anymore.

When Gilbert remembered, he let her down. "Congratulations." He held out his hand to her. "You're kingdom can trade these. You won't need our money...or what's left of it…"

She felt cold wash over her. "Oh...oh of course."

"We'll still be friends."

Anne looked down, "Sure... friends."

They looked at each other in silence.

"I'm going to miss you." Gilbert suddenly said. Anne looked up at him. At his stupid sad, handsome eyes. She thought about how every other prince she'd met had been stuck up and shallow. But not Gilbert. Sure they'd gotten off on the wrong foot, but that Gilbert she'd met in the market place was the real Gilbert. He was kind, he was genuine, he had ambitions. He seemed to care about things that interested her. When was she going to find a better prince?

Without thinking she stepped closer. Anne's hands clasped the back of Gilbert's neck, pulling him towards her and pressed on her tiptoes to kiss him.

His dumbstruck look when they pulled apart almost made Anne kiss him again.

"What if you stayed in Avonlea?" She scanned his face trying to read any potential signs of him rejecting her. But there was nothing but sincerity in his face. "You could still study to be a doctor, and we could rule as equals. Bash is welcome and-"

He cut her off, this time being the one to initiate the kiss. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against hers. "I thought you didn't need a prince?"

She laughed, "I don't. I just want you ."

He was about to lean in again when a muffled shout came from outside.

They ran hand in hand to the collapsed entrance.

"Anne?" Diana's voice could be heard.

"Blythe?" Bash.

"We're here!" They shouted.

"We'll get you out! Hold on!" Diana shouted.

Gilbert and Anne stood back, their hands interlocked.

-------------------------------

Tag list: @extrahawkins , @inrealliampain , @kiss-my-maas , @rielysian , @bellamylover100, @gladysaurousrex , @teawreckss, @thismayflower, @nerdywitch27, @sge8, @furiouspaperfarmegg

(if you’d like to be added let me know x)

[tofics]

The Pact, Part 8 [Masterlist here]

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Taglist: @rissyrapp20 @idkhaylijah @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @hides2000 @dolans-lover

Sidenote: for those wondering where we are in the timeline of TWD, I placed it loosely around the time where they’ve got the prison going nicely. It’s been a while since I watched TWD but I’m talking about before they get sick in the prison. There’s also another music recommendation in this chapter! Basically this song is what gave me the idea for the story in the first place. I hope you find it fits the situation as well as I did. 

“Maggie was supposed to gather some supplies. We’re doing well at the prison but we ran out of baby formula-”

“Baby formula? You have a baby? In a prison?” Y/N interrupted Glenn. All four of them stood in the living room of the house they had met in front, a town map on the table in front of them. Glenn had marked the store where Maggie had intended to go, as well as the route she usually took to get there.

Elijah shot Y/N a look that told her not to interrupt Glenn, but she couldn’t help it. She hadn’t seen a baby in the last four years after all, this kind of news was big. Carol nodded. “We do. We’re quite a big group of people actually, if you end up finding what you’re looking for...” Carol’s gaze wandered from Y/N to Elijah, something that Y/N didn’t notice. “...if you end up finding what you’re looking for, you could join us. That is, if you answer our three questions right.” Carol’s gaze still didn’t leave Elijah’s face, and he stared back at her with a grim expression.

“Carol, can we please focus?” Glenn tapped on a spot on the map. “This is the store she was trying to get to. It’s cleared out and unless someone broke in, there’s no way for walkers to enter there. We should start here.” While the rest of them started to form a search plan, Carol kept rather quiet, her eyes still focused on Elijah. He could feel her eyes boring into him and he could only hope that Y/N didn’t notice.

The two of them had greeted Elijah like an old friend, hugs and smiles included. In these times, when people left, you could never be sure you ever saw them again, and Elijah could tell that they were genuinely pleasantly surprised by running into him.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Steve?” Carol and Steve had gotten along well in the time they had spent together, bonding over the mutual experience of being a parent to someone. It was only natural that she would ask for him. When Elijah didn’t reply right away, the smile fell from Carol’s face and Glenn cursed under his breath.

“When? How?” It was sad that these two little words could turn into such loaded questions. Elijah averted her gaze and cleared his throat.

“A few months back. Walkers got him.”

The silence that followed pressed on Elijah’s ears. The three of them mourned their friend for a moment, each of them thinking back to a moment with Steve that they had enjoyed. Elijah however could only think about Y/N and the guilt of keeping her in the dark.

“What are you guys doing here?” He tried changing the subject, but from the look on Carol’s face, he could tell it didn’t slip her attention.

“It’s Maggie. She hasn’t come home from what was supposed to be a routine run.” Glenn rubbed his face. He looked tired, worn out from the worry.

“My apologies. Is there anything we can do?”

“We?” Carol’s tone was sharp, and it poked right where his conscience was guilt-tripping him too.

“...right. There is something you should know.”

“Alright then, that’s the plan. You guys check out this side of the town, and Elijah and I take the other part. You guys got walkie talkies? What frequence are you on?” Y/N clapped her hands together. Somehow, having a straight plan, knowing exactly where to look, it made her feel good. Like they were finally on a good track, even if they weren’t exactly looking for her father. Carol and Glenn had promised to look for signs of her father while they searched their part of the town though, so all of this wouldn’t be in vain. And she knew that her father would have wanted her to help them.

Once they were all prepped, the party split up into groups of two. They had reached peak noon hours and the sun was burning down on them with relentless force. The heat flickered over the pavement and Y/N could tell beads of sweat running down her neck while she and Elijah took the first few streets on their plan.

“How do you know them? When did you guys meet them?” She knew she wasn’t supposed to talk because it made it easier for Elijah to scan the houses, listening intently for any sign of life - or undead, for that matter. But she couldn’t help it. This was the first time in over a year that she had run into someone that knew her father besides Elijah, who, much to Y/N’s dismay, was never very keen on talking about him. She missed her father, and being in the presence of people who had known him just made her miss him more.

She sensed that Elijah hesitated before he replied, and when he spoke, his voice had an edge to it. “A little after your father and I forged our alliance. We met Glenn and a few other men of their group out on a supply run. We joined forces for a while.”

They walked on while Y/N digested his words. She scanned the houses for any sign, anything that might look out of place, even though she knew it was mostly useless. Elijah would hear anything and anyone long before she could see them anyway, but it was a habit. Always be alert. Always check your surroundings. 

“Why do you never want to talk about him?” The question had tumbled from her lips before she knew it. Elijah stopped in his tracks, obviously taken aback by her words. 

“It’s just - I mean, I guess you were friends, right? So why do you never want to talk about him? You always get so cold when I ask you about him.” Y/N shifted uncomfortably and kicked a few stones around. When Elijah didn’t reply, she looked up to find him staring at her with a mix of surprise and... hurt on his face. 

“You know what? Never mind. Forget that I asked.” Y/N hurried on, wanting to leave the uncomfortable situation behind. She already regretted having brought it up at all, considering the look on his face.

“Y/N, wait.” He called out behind her and she stopped, half curious what he was going to say, half worried that he was going to dig into some awful memory that she had opened by accident with her stupid, stupid question. 

“I think it’s time that I tell you someth-” He was cut off by the sound of a gun firing. Y/N and Elijah looked at one another before taking of running into the direction that the sound had come from. They hurried past rows of broken down houses and rusty old cars, Elijah leading the way. While they were running, Elijah drew his machete and Y/N grabbed her axe, both getting mentally ready for a fight before they reached the scene.

Elijah motioned for her to halt in front of an old car shop. They were both breathing heavy, although more from the adrenaline that pursed through their veins rather than the jog here. 

“Stay here.” He motioned for her to stay put, but Y/N wouldn’t have it. 

“Are you crazy? We heard a gunshot! You don’t know what’s inside-” she hissed, but Elijah talked over her.

“And that’s exactly why you’re staying out here.” He headed for the door that hung crooked in its hinges, and despite his orders, Y/N followed him closely at his heels.

“Y/N, wait out here!” He hissed, but she ignored him yet again and slid through the opening. Elijah was about to grab her and pull her back when another shot went off in the garage behind the front desk. Y/N immediately broke into a run for the doors and Elijah had no choice but to follow her if he wanted to protect her and Maggie. Chances were that she was the one firing those shots, which meant that he was in danger, and he was a man of his word. He had promised Glenn that he would help bring Maggie back safe and sound.

Y/N slid to a halt in front of the double doors leading back to the garage and peered through one of the muddy windows. Elijah followed her example and couldn’t help but curse when he saw the insides of the big hall.

“Fuck.” How they slipped under his radar, he had no idea, but there they were - a giant crowd of walkers, roaming around between half-lifted cars, pushed over tool kits and trolleys. And in the middle of them, hanging out of a window of a lifted car was Maggie, yielding a lug wrench and bashing in whatever walker head came in the way of the makeshift weapon.

“I’ll distract them. You go get Maggie out of that car.” Y/N was about to push through the doors when Elijah pulled her back. 

“Have you gone mad? Impossible. I will not risk your life to save another one. I will go inside, whereas you will remain waiting out here.” His brows were furrowed and his tone was stern. With such a large crowd of literal walking danger next to him, next to her, his heart was beating so loud he was sure even she could hear it without supernatural hearing. The mere thought of Y/N ending up hurt, or worse, bitten - he didn’t even dare think about her dying - made his stomach turn. He still hadn’t fully come to terms with what he was feeling for her, not sure what the “what” was yet, but he knew that he would rather die before she got hurt. 

“Elijah, there are too many of them, even for you. What if you get bit? There’s no way I’ll let you go in there alone!” Although she was trying to speak quietly, her last words turned into a shriek. He quickly hushed her and pulled her away from the doors and to the side, afraid one of the undead might hear them. 

“Y/N, this is not a discussion. You will stay out here, even if I have to chain you to the wall.”

“No!” Y/N exclaimed, pushing against him. “I know you want to be the boss of everything, but I won’t let you go alone! I can’t - just - what if you get hurt!”

“I will not get hurt. But I cannot fight knowing you are in there with me, Y/N.”

“Shut the fuck up, Elijah. You can’t fight knowing I’m in there? I can’t stay out here knowing you’re in there. I’m coming with you, and you can’t keep me from doing so. Now let’s go and save Maggie, with each minute that we stand here and fight, we’re wasting valuable time. That car could come crashing down any minute!”

Despite the odd circumstances they were in, surrounded by filth, death and impending danger, with the combined look of desperation and fierceness in Y/N’s eyes, Elijah thought she had never looked more beautiful. And in that moment he didn’t care if he was doing the right thing. 

With one quick move, he spun her around and pinned her between him and the wall. He heard the breath hitch in Y/N’s throat and caught the surprise in her eyes before he leaned his forehead against hers until their noses touched and his lips almost touched hers. 

“Elijah, what-” Y/N began, but left the unspoken question hanging in the air, unfinished. She couldn’t concentrate, her vision seemed to go blurry while all her other senses came to life. She felt electricity buzz where his skin was touching hers, on her nose, her arms where he was holding her, the soft static between them where their bodies almost connected. She could feel his breath on her lips and felt his eyes on her, switching back and forth between her own eyes and lips. Before she could say another word, Elijah leaned in and closed the little gap between them. His lips connected to hers in a harsh, demanding way that left her breathless, but she didn’t care. It was as if his kiss cleared her mind and only left a sense of deep, quiet calmness. In that moment, it didn’t matter that they were about to fight against a bunch of walkers, or that she still hadn’t found her father, or that the world as she knew it had pretty much gone to shit. The only thing that mattered were how his lips felt against hers and how his hands felt on her body. She swung her arms around his neck and pulled him a little closer into him, losing herself in the kiss until a loud banging sound from the garage behind him send them flying apart.

They stood opposite of each other, panting, both trying to make sense of what had just happened. Then a giggle fought its way out of Y/N’s throat, causing Elijah to grin as well. 

“Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way. Now if we can please save that poor man’s girlfriend, so they can do later what we just did.” Y/N steadied herself and grabbed her ax from where it had leaned against the wall. She saw Elijah hesitating and was about to give him another piece of her mind, but then he just nodded.

[Listen to this song.]

“Distract them, and then run. I do not want them in your close proximity. Understood?” He waited for her to nod and she did. He quietly counted to three, and then he kicked the door in, sending it into the crowd and taking a couple of undead with it. 

Y/N rushed into the hall, swinging her ax as she went, leaving a trail of decaying splintered remains behind her. Elijah zoomed around the crowd, chipping away at it from the outside, sending arms, heads and torsos flying.

“Come on you fuckers, follow me! Lunch is over here! Come and get it!” Y/N yelled. She knew she should be scared, but the minute they had set foot into the garage, her fright had made way for an intense adrenaline rush that made her feel powerful and invincible. The herd of walkers was slowly turning their attention away from Maggie and instead focused on Elijah and Y/N, splitting the large crowd in two. Y/N could hear the typical moans and groans growing louder and louder as the number of walkers around her began to grow around her, slowly closing her in, but instead of feeling overpowered, she just felt more determined. She swung her ax relentlessly and brought it down on whatever head  or arm came into her sight, disconnecting jaws from upper mouths, splitting skulls and amputating hands wherever she could. Her blood was pumping in her ears and a thick soup of blood and rotting flesh slowly started to coat her while she hacked away at the party in front of her. 

Elijah made an effort to cause as much havoc as he possibly could. He was proud to see Y/N doing such a good job in a different corner of the hall, although he would have preferred if she had lead the walkers that were following her outside where she could have outrun them. He didn’t have enough time to worry about her though as he was becoming increasingly cornered himself, and a fair amount of hungry undeads were still pushing against the metal bars that kept Maggie’s car up in the air, causing it to shake more than he liked. He continued to chop away with his machete while his other hand decapitated heads all on its own, but the number of walkers didn’t seem to decrease. He was starting to get worried that they might have underestimated the crowd when Carol and Glenn stormed through the backdoor, bringing hellfire with them. 

Between the four of them, their axes, machetes, guns and rifles, they managed to eradicate every single one of the hungry beasts within minutes. Elijah rounded up the most numbers with his supernatural speed, but Y/N, Glenn and Carol killed a great amount themselves. Once Elijah decapitated the last one, he dropped his bloody machete to the ground and patted down his soiled clothes. 

“Well. Wasn’t that fun.” 

Y/N broke into a triumphant grin and made her way over to him to check if he was okay, but Glenn only had eyes for the car. He stumbled over the crowded floor towards the car lift and blinked up at Maggie, who had been watching the show from inside the car, unable to help without injuring herself. 

“Hey babe, you good?” Glenn asked, sounding a little sheepish. He helped Maggie climb out of the car window and the two fell into each other’s arms once she had reached the ground. “You’re a bloody idiot, you know that,” Maggie whined into his shoulder, but her face betrayed her: a look of relief was plastered all over it. 

Y/N was helping Glenn and Maggie load their car while Carol and Elijah stood watch. Elijah suspected that Carol didn’t truly anticipate more danger and wanted to talk to him about Steve instead. He silently watched the three pack the car when Carol quietly addressed him.

“You know it’s wrong. She has a right to know her father has passed away. Where do you think this will go? Do you want to keep her on the road forever?” He felt like a little child getting scolded with that voice she was using. 

“I know. I will tell her soon.” He could feel Carol still looking at him judgingly like she had all day, and he couldn’t blame her for it. He what he was doing wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair to Y/N.

Y/N, Maggie and Glenn were saying their goodbyes at the car, hugging and thanking each other for their help, and Elijah wandered over to join them. 

“Thanks again,” Maggie said and hugged Y/N. “I’m really sorry your father is missing, he’s a nice guy,” she added and gave Y/N a sympathetic look before getting into the car. Elijah shook hands with Glenn and Carol, who gave him one last stern look, then Y/N and Elijah watched the car drive off.

“You know, they asked me to join them in their prison. Apparently they have some kind of system going where they don’t just invite anyone in, but having saved Maggie and you and my dad having been with them before apparently earned us a green card. It would be nice,” Y/N said in a very casual tone that told Elijah that it was anything but casual to her. He sighed and cleared his throat, and with a heavy feeling in his stomach, he turned to her. “Listen... I think we need to talk.”

Y/N gulped at his words. “If this is about the kiss, no big deal, you know, it can happen... heat of the moment thing... fearing for your life... it’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself,” she said while at the same time trying not to blush - unsuccessfully so. 

“No, it’s not about that, it’s - I - Y/N, I know where your father is.” 

She barely registered his words at first, mentally preparing herself for being let down gently, preparing to hear all about how it just wasn’t the right time for them. Once the words slowly sunk in, she turned towards him, confusion spreading in her head.

“What? How - did you find something earlier?” 

Elijah shook his head no, and she thought to find a look of hurt creeping onto his face. 

“He... he’s dead, Y/N.” 

Y/N blinked at Elijah, the words ringing in her head. He’s dead.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would you say that?”

The look of hurt on Elijah’s face slowly grew into a grimace of pain, but Y/N barely registered that. Blood began rushing into her head, the sound of it whooshing in her ears, and she could feel her breath picking up.

“Elijah, why would you say that?” Her voice now showed a hint of panic, and Elijah stepped forward and reached out to her to console her, but Y/N immediately took a step backwards out of reach. 

“It was five months after I had met him. We went into town separately like you and I do, and he got overwhelmed by a group of walkers... I didn’t reach him in time, they had already bitten him in the neck. He asked me to find you before he begged me to take his life, he didn’t want to turn into one of them...” The words now sputtered out of Elijah, like all the time he had kept them in they had bottled up and just waited to be released.

Y/N began to stagger. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, unable to grasp the true sense of what Elijah was telling her. Surely, this was some kind of mistake, right? He was just pulling a mean stunt on her?

“Elijah, what are you even saying, my dad, he’s...” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She couldn’t say it out loud in fear that once she spoke the words, it might actually become true. Y/N searched Elijah’s face for any sign that he might just be playing a trick on her, but when she saw his tearful eyes, she felt something break inside of her.

“Why - why didn’t you tell me earlier? Why did you let me believe he was alive?” Her words were no more than a whisper, she wasn’t capable of more. It felt like the breath had been knocked out of her, and no matter how hard she tried to gasp for air, her lungs wouldn’t fill again. Her vision blurred and she stumbled backwards. Elijah reached out for her to steady her, but she slapped his hands away.

“Don’t touch me,” she snarled, her face pulled into a grimace of pain and betrayal.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have-” Elijah started, but Y/N interrupted him. She couldn’t stand his voice right now, didn’t want to hear any apologies. Nothing of what he had to say could ever make right what he had done to her. He had given her hope and then crushed it within a second, and she hated him for it. The thought of him kissing her earlier now made her sick, and she just wanted to get away from him.

“Fuck off. Leave me the fuck alone. Leave me alone!” She shrieked as Elijah made another step towards her, and before she knew what she was doing, she swung her rifle around her shoulder and fired a shot directly into his heart.

Elijah stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. He looked down at the entry wound on his chest like he too couldn’t believe what she had just done. He pressed his hands on the hole from which blood was now pouring relentlessly and tried to speak again, but no words left his mouth. Instead, his knees gave away under him and he toppled over, landing face first on the gravel before Y/N’s feet.

She stared at his lifeless body for a while. A sight that would have left her worried out of her mind just this morning now didn’t move her at all. If anything, it brought her satisfaction. She knew she didn’t have long before he would wake up again, and so she picked up her ax, swung her rifle back over her shoulder and started running down the street, back into the direction of the tree where they had stored their supplies in. Her chances of disappearing quickly enough before he woke up were slim, she knew that, but she had to try. There was no way she was going to face that lying bastard ever again. He had used her, for companionship and blood, using her dead father against her.

Dead.

The thought made her stumble and fall, but she was back on her feet within seconds. No time to think now. She had to get away, that was her only priority.

[zippdementia]

Part 42 Alignment May Vary: Skull Gorge Bridge

This is the ongoing adventure in the 5e conversion of classic 3.5 adventure The Red Hand of Doom! Not only does this detail the adventures of my three players but it also give detailed suggestions on how to run a 5e conversion of this campaign.

Tools I reference a lot: The 3.5 Red Handbook of Doom, The beastiary Revenge of the Horde, secondary beastiary Tome of Beasts.

This session opens with two of the characters hungover and experiencing exhaustion from a night of drinking...

If there was one time he was happy to not have use of his eyes, it was now, so he didn’t have to see the sun.

His head was splitting open.

Trakki sluggishly followed the soldiers through the Dawn Way, focusing mostly on putting one foot in front of the other. Drinking with the Dragonborn the night before battle had seemed an excellent idea at the time. Necessry, even, to keep up morale and inspire his companions. He stole a glance at Nysyries, then remembered he couldn’t see. He imagined though that her black scales maybe had a touch of green to them today, but other than that you wouldn’t have known that she was polishing off her three bottle of Mystica wine barely four hours prior.

And I thought the elves could drink.

Tyrion hadn’t joined them, he had disappeared into his room early with Serah. Trakki would have assumed this meant the two were spending the night getting refamiliarized, but the mage had left shortly after and Tyrion had not emerged again (though whatever they had spoken of had made him quiet today, as well).

In any case, Trakki had had to provide the song for their drinking. He had tried to capture the bard’s flailing movements and jaunty rythyms, his questionable rhymes spoken with extreme boldness, as if he could force the words to fit the song. He remembered little of it now, but snatches kept returning to him and he would hum them softly as they walked, to take his mind off his, well... his mind.

The island, I was trapped My strength all but sapped The lizardmen came and I hate them And so I had to ate them

His stomache turned but Trakki forced himself to breath normal. The sweat he was pouring he could write off as just a long day’s march. But he couldn’t let the troops see him throw up halfway through it. That would be decidedly bad for morale.

For weeks, Skull Gorge Bridge has occupied my thoughts. How to get players there, how to challenge them but make that challenge manageable, what minions to run with during the battle, how it will convert smoothly to 5e. Last post, I talked about how I handled the set up for Skull Gorge Bridge by changing the goal of the battle from defeating its defenders to blowing it up. This was always something allowed by the original module, but not something made explicit by it. By bringing this goal to the forefront, I change the purpose of this fight from “kill a dragon” to “blow up a bridge.”

One of those goals is a lot more manageable, right? And more interesting.

This ends up being one of our most exciting, nail biting, and epic sessions of our entire campaign. To understand why, you have to get into the logistics of the fight, so I’m going to lead with that data rather than with description.

Encounter: Skull Gorge Bridge

Battle difficulty meant to be: deadly

Players are supposed to walk away feeling: if they walk away, players should feel like they’ve accomplished something big, but also that they are fighting forces beyond their abilities alone. “We are gonna need a bigger boat” should be the overall sentiment.

Rebuild:  The conversion happens less in the actual restating of enemies and more in the shifting of the scenario and its goals. But that shift makes all the difference. I do the following:

Set up the bridge as the major encounter for the day

Set up a pre-battle ambush (see below) that takes place 300 ft from the bridge

Set up a different goal for the bridge fight. In this case, the goal is to destroy the bridge at all costs and I give them Serah’s bomb to give them a way to do this.

Move the main horde’s forces from Cinder Hill to having advanced just before the bridge, so that the players get to see the horde and realize their danger regardless of what happens here at the bridge

As far as actual stats, I use Hellhounds and the Dragon as written (I use a young adult Green Dragon). You could update the Dragon to have a bull rush feature: once a turn, after a successful melee attack from the Dragon, a player must make a DC 15 Str save or be shoved ten feet and knocked prone. I didn’t for this combat, because this is my first Dragon in DnD 5 and I wanted to see how it plays unchanged, but it could make the fight more dynamic in terms of the dragon’s tactics (knocking people off the chasm) and is specifically mentioned in the original campaign.

The only changes I make are to the Hobgoblins, which I turn into archers from Revenge of the Horde. If you don’t have access to this, then boost archer to-hit and damage values and give them a 1d4 additional to attack value if they don’t move on their turn. I recommend either boosting the Dragon’s health or adding more hellhounds if your party size is greater than four adventurers.

Together the group of about 20 marched down the Dawn’s Way towards their destination: the Skull Gorge Bridge. Soranna had sent eighteen of her warriors with them to guard them and to help in the assault on the bridge. Now their swords and spears glinted in the late day light, the same light which turned the trees around them into a reddish brown color like that of blood.

Tyrion heard the voice before the others, or maybe they never heard it at all. “Come,” it called. “Leave this group behind. The bridge is not more than a quarter mile ahead. You need not have their help to claim it. Charge it: destroy it: this is something you and you alone can do.”

Tyrion actually found himself stepping forward before he broke free of the spell. He halted suddenly and pulled free his axe. “Show yourself fiend!” he called. “I will not be fooled by your tricks!”

His challenge actually met with a response: a small goblin emerged onto the path, hands held up in placation.

“I am a friend,” the creature said in a small voice. “Or at least an enemy of your enemies.” The creature began to explain. He was the king of a forest goblin tribe that had been forced to do the bidding of the hobgoblins. The king was chafing under their rule and now saw a way out. By destroying the bridge, the King would gain time to hide his people throughout the woods and prepare to harry the hobgoblins as they made the more difficult, longer trip around the Skull Gorge.

The goblin’s story is a good one. Tyrion is nearly convinced. If the group did not spend an inspiration point, he would have fallen under the Goblin’s spell and become a non-participant in the upcoming ambush. As it is, he rolls again, fights off the spell, and the real battle begins!

Pre-Battle Ambush: Because I know the party is headed for the bridge at full power, with a team of NPC warriors with them, and because they didn’t kill Wyrmlord Koth who by now has warned the horde of their involvement, I decide to set up a pre-bridge encounter to (a) demonstrate the horde is taking them seriously and stepping up their game accordingly; and (b) to spend some of their resources before they face the Dragon.

This encounter is based off another in the campaign and includes one Ogre, four veteran Hobgoblin Warriors, and one Barghest who ambush the party from the woods as they make their way towards the bridge. To make the combat more interesting, I have the Barghest approach the group in its goblin form first and try two spells.

First, suggestion on the member of the party who has used the most bash-and-brawl tactics in prior battles with the horde. He lays the suggestion that this one should run ahead alone to the bridge and take it out! If successful, this splits the party, as the Barghest and his allies hidden in the woods close in after the one member has dashed ahead.

Second, if this fails, he tries to use Friend on the same party member before combat starts so that once combat begins, the charmed party member will be an ally. Sure, Friend isn’t the most powerful charm spell—Tyrion would not have attacked his own party—but it is one the DM can have some fun with. For instance, Tyrion would not have seen the Barghest as a threat either and he would have wasted turns and actions trying to either get his “companions” to stop fighting each other or would have purely focused on the veterans and ogre, while healing the Barghest.

Lastly, the Ogre is under a berserk potion, giving him advantage on all hits, though advantage to be hit as well. His AC is already so low that he’s not really giving anything up by being at advantage to be struck while he gains a lot from his own advantage. Even so, if your party has more people or very strong fighters, I suggest giving him resistance to normal damage as well, and maybe even throwing in a second attack. Buff him up a bit to draw out the fight.

The point of this pre-ambush is to slow the party down and waste some of their resources (including their NPC companions) before the bridge. In this case, it causes an even more interesting scenario, as Nysyries grabs the C4 and transforms into a Quetzalcoatl, then takes off flying for the bridge, leaving her companions to fight these monsters, and preparing to take on the suicide mission alone.

Enemy Tactics: There are four combatant groups at the bridge, and each has slightly different tactics. The Hellhounds are the most mindless, just rushing and attacking, even pursuing fleeing characters into the woods. The Hobgoblin archers take full advantage of their position to gain cover while aiming down at the players (+1d4 to all attack rolls). The Hobgoblins across the bridge take a while to prep for combat. They are there to replace the archers in case the heroes crush the enemy forces in the first few turns, or to add their forces to the situation in case the heroes are slow to whittle down the archers.

The dragon, of course, is this combat’s big contender. His main goal is to protect the bridge and drive off attackers. He is very aggressive, liking to stay airborne for the most part, even willing to take attacks of opportunity to get back in the air. He will use his breath from up there whenever he recharges it, hoping to catch a big group, but fine piling on damage to one character. Similarly, he will focus his multi-attack on the weakest AC party member, seeking to take them down one at a time. He won’t focus on unconscious party members (another dragon has that as his specialty), giving the party a chance to heal. 

At first, the Dragon is more arrogant and taunting. He wants the players to get onto the bridge so he can fly under it, protecting himself when it isn’t their turn, and (if you’ve used the updated dragon bull rush feature) try to shove them off. He’ll essentially lure them onto the bridge for this purpose and then let the archers do their work. If they hang back, he’ll fly behind them and drive them towards the bridge.

If the bridge goes down, he’ll become enraged and rush into combat, forgetting his tricks in favor of killing the players as quickly as possible. Of course, if this happens while they are between the chasm and him, he may very well drive them into the chasm still!

How does it go: Nysyries makes a huge gamble by heading for the bridge herself. She spots the dragon, but keeps to her mission. Of course, the Dragon intercepts her midair and tears her to shred in a single brutal attack. Nysyries turns back into her humanoid form and begins to fall from 120 feet up. I think this is the end... but then I’ve forgotten that she has multiple uses of her beast transform each day!

In a sudden gust of wind and magic, Nysyeries transforms back into her flying form, lets the fall give her momentum, and glides down towards the bridge, still clutching the bomb. The Dragon realizes what is happening too late. Nysyeries lets go of her package and swoops up into the air again.

We roll a d100 to see if the bomb explodes. It is a 78% chance, based on the force of impact. Nysyries rolls well within that and the bridge goes up in a vast explosion of stone and fire. It is a suicide mission, however. Nysyries, in  Quetzalcoatl form, lets out a triumphant screech and tries to fly away, but the Dragon is on her. It rends at her, landing a critical hit and absolutely wrecking her. In a single blow, it tears through her beast form, digs into her normal hit points, but leaves her conscious. However, this time when she transforms there is no going back.

Nysyries falls. Nearly 200 feet she falls, into stone and fire and destruction. She has time for a single action, which she uses to down an invulnerability potion. Then we roll damage on this (halving it for her potion). We rule that if she strikes the water unconscious, she is dead by drowning. And with 19d6, we are pretty sure this is it.

Except, no. She survives by 2 hit points.

It is a glorious moment for all of us. Against all odds, Nysyries lives in what is probably the most epic moment of my GMing career. Dodge a dragon, blow up a bridge, fly out of an explosion only to be mauled by the dragon, and fall out of the sky into seeming death. Even the dragon thinks she is gone. But fate reaches down and saves her! Regardless, she is out of the game for a moment, we’ll come back to her in a future post.

Meanwhile, when Tyrion and Trakki arrive they find a very pissed off dragon! It takes them on in a rush of claw and fang and poison breath. But a lot of things go wrong here for the dragon. First, it never successfully recharges its breath weapon, so it only gets to use it once. Then, too, it fails a large majority of its rolls, rolling under 10 on the dice more than half the time. This bad luck carries into the rest of the combat: the dragon fails two of its easy saves against Tyrion’s hypnotic pattern, which stuns it. On one of these stuns, the Dragon is airborne and crashes to the ground, taking some damage and coming to. But on the second one, it is on land and so the party has the chance to run back into the woods and escape.

It is still an incredibly tense fight, though, in large part because of Tyrion’s cursed axe. Oh that curse... it forces Tyrion to stay in battle and to stay close to his opponents, so while Traki is desperately trying to flee the rampaging Dragon, Tyrion is goddamn rushing at it. Meanwhile, archers and the hellhounds are surrounding them, chipping away at their life. Ultimately, Traki has to grapple Tyrion (a fun feat to watch, as I think both have 20 Strength and Traki’s hangover leaves him at disadvantage to this roll) and literally carry him from the fight.

So, in the end, the rolls save everyone this scenario from what was very nearly a TPK, but that is part of the thrill of Dungeons and Dragons. The “game” is that even the DM doesn’t know where dice will fall, so seeing the players escape this encounter really does carry a lot of tension for all of us, because they were literally one or two bad/good rolls away from being TPK’d. It’s moments like this which make for epic camp fire stories years later. It’s why we play Dungeons and Dragons and if you don’t like crazy twists like this, it shouldn’t be your game.

Special Loot: None. This shouldn’t be a looting situation. Even if your players somehow manage to kill the dragon and drive off the bridge defenders, you have an entire horde just sitting beyond the bridge. They won’t give the players time to loot. Remember: they have FLYING MONSTERS. Seven Chimera should fly across the bridge and start attacking if your players are dilly-dallying.

Overall, I highly recommend this conversion. The major change is to set up the goal of the encounter to overtly be to destroy the bridge, rather than how the campaign sets this up as a side goal. My group chose to march an army down the dawn’s way, so I planned the ensuing encounter accordingly, with the pre-ambush and all of that. Another group might decide to sneak through the forest and try to quietly place the bomb on the bridge in the daytime when the Hobgoblins are sluggish. Truly enterprising groups might try to climb down the ravine and stealthily climb up the cavern or magic their way up to the bridge in the dead of night to place the bomb on its underside. The point is, by making the goal so overtly to destroy the bridge you actually give your players a lot more options in how to approach the scenario.

Next time, the party is split for an entire session, so I’ll have some advice on how to run that. Also, at this point, we’ve exhausted the campaign’s official material for Part 1, but I have some suggestions for how to take some hints in the book and turn them into side quests. Next time we’ll get into that!

[1989dreamer]

Chapter 11 of Looking for a Place to Call Home

                                                                                                                      ~ * ~

Derek finds the towels under the sink and wraps three of them around his body. They are smaller than the one Stiles had but nicer. White and fluffy and warm.

Then, just as he is deciding if he wants to dress again in the scrubs or seek out other clothing options, the door breaks inward with a muted thud.

Derek stares at the woman standing there, holding an ax. She looks crazy, hair pulled into a tight bun on top of her head, quivering with her heaving breaths. Her t-shirt declares her a member of the Beacon Hills Fire Department but that is of little comfort to him as she readjusts her grip on the handle. Her eyes won’t stay still, betraying her intentions.

He growls at her, flashing his eyes and letting his fangs poke out.

Her face blanks, and she moves when Stiles jerks her back. Derek flinches away from the taser in Stiles’ hand.

“Hey, you doing okay in here, bud?”

Stiles’ eyes keep shifting around the bathroom, like he thinks Derek did more than take a shower. The taser never wavers from pointing at Derek’s belly button, but he notices that even though it’s prepped, Stiles’ finger is nowhere near the trigger.

It doesn’t feel like he’s in danger any more, so Derek says, “I’m still hungry. Also, I want my sisters.”

“They’re just outside talking to some deputies,” Stiles says. His heart blips a little, and Derek tenses before he hears the nurse Melissa speak.

“Try convincing him to finish the IV, Stiles.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “If just a little felt good,” he says, “imagine what the whole bag will do.”

Derek looks down at his hands. He feels strong—stronger than he has in a long while. Is that really because of the liquid in the bag?

“Hey, if you don’t want it, we won’t make you take it. It’s entirely up to you.”

A choice? It’s like Stiles promising not to hurt him—and look how well that had gone. So maybe Derek doesn’t really have a choice. Illusion of choice is more likely.

“The bag is fine.” After all, if the liquid in the bag is truly helping him, he’ll only get stronger, and then he can fight all of them and escape. Ax and taser included.

“Well good.” Stiles seems flummoxed, as if he expected Derek to put up a fight. “That’s good. We should get you set up then.” He frowns. “You might want to get dressed again.”

Derek frowns right back at him. Stiles flushes angrily and grabs the woman’s arm to pull her out to the room with him. Once they’re gone, Derek sheds the towel and pulls on the scrub bottoms. He gets stuck in the scrub top and uses a claw to slit it open. He growls at it for good measure before he follows Stiles out of the bathroom.

Melissa points at the bed, and Derek climbs onto it, settling with his ankles crossed, hands intertwined and resting on his bare stomach. Stiles glares at him before looking away quickly.

Derek grins at him, sticking one arm out so that Melissa can insert a fresh needle and reattach the bag of liquid. He concentrates on not healing so that the liquid can actually enter his system.

“Are you a hunter?” he asks Melissa. He doesn’t think so since she doesn’t have the underlying smell of gun oil or wolfsbane.

She shakes her head, heartbeat steady. “I was Claudia’s nurse.” She shoots a look at Stiles, but he’s too busy arguing with the woman about who is going to pay for the destroyed door.

So far, the woman is winning.

“Claudia was Stiles’ mom.”

“She died,” Derek says. He remembers John saying he took over his wife’s emissary duties.

“Yes, she did. Before she passed, she entrusted her journals to me until such a time that your mother had selected her new emissary. I don’t know if I was supposed to read them or not, but I did. I learned of your family’s existence and how to care for any of you through those journals. My boss is actually the former emissary of one of the packs that lived in the surrounding territories. He’s the one who equipped our dampeners.”

“Smell and hearing,” Derek says. He touches his ears.

“Both senses are easily overwhelmed. The dampeners filter out most of it so that any supernatural creatures can be treated in relative comfort. I’ll speak to the director and get the dampeners lowered.”

The limitations placed on him are for his own good? Derek hadn’t liked the roar of sound or the pungent odor of so many people’s illness. Even the smell in the room is limited. It’s only if someone is next to him, like Melissa is now, that he can smell their emotions and intentions.

“No,” Derek decides. “The dampeners can stay. But,” he adds, “I want my sisters.”

“That can be arranged. For now, I just want you to focus on getting better.”

The growing itch under Derek’s skin eases only when Stiles stops arguing with the woman and comes to sit by the bed. It’s worrisome that Stiles shows a bit of kindness to him and he stops trying to fight him. When she had him, he never made the mistake of thinking she could be good for him. He needs to steel himself against Stiles.

“Just sleep,” Stiles says, “your sisters will be here in a few minutes.” Another promise.

But, it’s a good promise. Stiles’ heartbeat stays steady. His scent is soothing, and Derek finds himself drifting off as Melissa removes the IV line.

                                                                                                                      ~ * ~

Stiles tries not to feel so creepy watching Derek sleep. Melissa assures him that the intake of nutrients and Calories is on schedule, even with Derek’s little temper tantrum that saw Stiles handing over a hundred bucks to Melissa so she could pass it along to the billing department. Stiles still thinks Harley should have covered at least half of it, but she’d dodged it, saying, “You called me,” and waltzing out the door to meet her fiancée for drinks.

Stiles had tried to convince her to keep the fact that Derek is a werewolf quiet, and she’d fixed him with an unimpressed glare. Apparently, her fiancée came from a Canadian pack of werewolves and they were just waiting on her citizenship papers before they got married.

Melissa taps Stiles shoulder. “Derek will be ready for the next IV bag when he wakes up again.” He nods his understanding.

After a few more minutes, Stiles can’t convince himself that he isn’t creepy any longer, and he points at the door. Melissa nods and follows him, dimming the lights behind them.

Once outside the room, Stiles sighs.

“Is there any evidence on him of what he went through?”

Melissa shakes her head, and Stiles refrains from punching the wall at the somewhat expected answer. “Even a werewolf as emaciated as Derek still heals,” she says. “If you want to know what happened to that boy, you’ll either have to talk to his tormenters or get him to tell you.” She checks her watch. “I need to finish my rounds before I clock out.”

“Thanks, Melissa,” he says belatedly when she’s already halfway down the hallway. She still waves.

Stiles turns to the little window beside the door, peering into the darkened room.

He needs information to prove without a doubt that Derek was tortured. The starvation thing is a major indicator, but he’ll need more to bring charges against Kate Argent and her hunters.

Derek does not appear inclined to share his experiences of the past three years, and Stiles has a strong feeling that Kate Argent will be even less forthcoming about her actions.

Stiles wants to bash his head against the wall. The only thing stopping him is the fact that it wouldn’t help in the slightest. He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, gripping the strands and pulling harshly. He still needs to give his own statement about what happened at the vet clinic too.

A quick peek at his watch makes him curse. The time is a few minutes past 8:00. With any luck this night will just end and Stiles can go home and sleep.

Home.

Where he tasered Derek and although he cleaned a bit, there is still shit and bile all over his bathroom. He is really not in the mood to scrub and sanitize anything tonight. What he’d really like to do is take a hot shower and fall into his bed.

His dad has a spare room. Stiles can crash at his place and then clean his house tomorrow. All he has to do is get his pillow, a change of clothes, his uniform and service weapon, and some toiletries.

He has to wonder where the Hales will stay once Derek is discharged. Yes, Laura is eighteen, but as established, they have nowhere to go. As far as Stiles knows, they don’t even have any clothes other than the scrubs borrowed from Scott and the hospital.

In all likelihood, one of the deputies will have to house them at least overnight. Stiles hopes that the sheriff won’t volunteer. Sheriff Lahey is a cold man with dead eyes and a bark like a charging rhinoceros. Stiles had swimming lessons back in the third grade when Sheriff Lahey used to be Coach Lahey. Something has always been off about that man.

It’s a worry for another day because Stiles’ phone is buzzing with a call from a number he doesn’t recognize.

“Stilinski.” Being a deputy means he answers his phone even if he’s suspicious.

“Stiles, it’s Erica.”

“Hello.” Stiles is curious as to why she’s calling him. He was under the impression that if she called it would be in a couple of days. Not the same day they had reconnected.

“So, I just wanted to know if you’d be willing to help me out with a project.”

“Kind of forward,” Stiles says, and Erica laughs.

“I suppose,” she agrees. “Look, I know things have changed since high school when we last saw each other. You’re a cop and I don’t have as many seizures as I used to.”

“Okay?” Stiles doesn’t understand. They’re all in their thirties—high school should be the furthest thing they all talk about—aside from Allison and Lydia who truly were high school sweethearts.

Erica sighs in his ear. “I run the only shelter in Beacon Hills. Since I’m alone, I don’t have the resources to take in all three Hales indefinitely, but I can be a temporary home for them. My boyfriend is busy tonight—something with his job—so I don’t have the necessary help to set up for them tonight. Please, just say you’ll help me.”

“Erica, I’m tired and need a shower. Is there really no one else you can ask?”

“No.” Erica sounds small.

“Damn it,” Stiles mutters under his breath. “If you promise to feed me,” he says louder, already regretting the offer but knowing that he wouldn’t have said no anyway, “I’ll help you.”

Hell, he can bring Scott too, if Scott’s willing.

“Deal,” Erica says brightly. Stiles thinks he just got played. “I already made supper when my boyfriend told me he wasn’t coming home tonight.”

“You have enough for another mouth?”

Erica scoffs. “Boy, I make enough to feed an army. Have you seen my boyfriend? You think it’s a mistake that he’s that well-fed?”

“It would help if I knew who your boyfriend is.”

“Vernon Boyd,” Erica says, and Stiles can hear how in love she is.

“Vernon Boyd from Animal Control is your boyfriend?” He tries to say it mildly, but there is no mistaking the shock in his voice. He winces, expecting Erica to take offense.

Instead, she says, “I know, right? I mean, he’s him. He’s so kind and gentle and good, and I’m me.”

“Hey, now, you’re just as good as B—Vernon.”

Erica snorts. “You say that now, Stilinski. Little do you know, I’m the devil in disguise.” She laughs. “After the wonder-drug, my life completely changed. I was able to finally pursue my interests with minor worry about relapsing. I’ve actually been on this new drug for almost three years. Clinical trials are almost done and it goes to market in six months. Once that’s done, I’ll have to pay for my prescription like everyone else. Hence the pet supplies store.”

“And you run the shelter when you’re not at work?”

“I only work at the store when the shelter is empty. I’m kind of a spare employee—they don’t need me really—but my dad is friends with the owner so anytime I have some downtime from the shelter, they let me work.”

“Wow, that’s a pretty lucky deal.”

“Don’t I know it. So, you’ll definitely help me tonight? And you’re bringing a friend as well?”

“Yeah, if he’ll go for it. He’s had a rough day too.”

“Oh, hey, you could totally bring your new companion too!” Erica chirps. “I bet the kids would love him. Unless, he’s anti-social. Somethings dogs that go through abuse are a lot less willing to socialize, especially in large groups.”

“Uh,” Stiles says, grasping for an excuse, any excuse. “Uh, Miguel is at the vet’s overnight—he has worms and he needs surgery tomorrow and—”

“Stiles,” Erica interrupts.

“Yeah?”

“Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying,” Stiles protests but it sounds hollow to his own ears. “Fine. What do you think I’m lying about?”

“Everything. Starting with the fact that you actually have a dog.”

“You saw me buying things. You helped me pick them out!”

“So? You could just be running a scam.”

Stiles doesn’t need this shit, much less from someone he hasn’t interacted with in over a decade. “Look, do you want my help or not? Keep insulting me and you can kiss it goodbye.”

“Fine,” Erica hurries to say, huffing out a breath that sound suspiciously like a sigh of relief, “I’m sorry. “Just, please don’t be mad at me.”

She hangs up before Stiles can ask her to clarify and he stares at his phone, wishing he could chuck it at the wall.

“Hey, kiddo.” His dad startles him when he claps him on the back. John has Laura, Cora, and one of Stiles’ coworkers, Deputy Haigh, with him. “Sheriff Lahey wants Derek’s statement tonight,” John explains. “Haigh is the bona fide volunteer.”

Meaning that come hell or high water or a right to privacy, Sheriff Lahey is going to get that statement. Stiles fixes Haigh with a sour look. The man transferred in after Stiles did and almost immediately, the entire force decided they didn’t like him. Haigh is a giant butt munch. He brownnoses like nobody’s business and then turns in other deputies for minor slip-ups.

Parrish, his assigned partner, has suffered the most. Parrish is usually confined to desk duty with docked pay because of Haigh’s tattling (of mundane things like an extra bathroom break or missing office supplies), which Parrish claims Haigh uses to hide the rules he breaks. They have no evidence though, and Haigh is definitely the Sheriff’s favorite deputy.

“Okay, first of all, Sheriff Lahey can shove it tonight. The boy is resting right now. You won’t get any useful information from him. Secondly, you ask questions like a bulldozer: heavy-handed and rude. This is a child who has suffered abuse and requires a gentler hand than you are capable of providing.”

“And I suppose you think you’re the best person for the job?” Haigh sneers.

“Well, I am the one who’s taken those classes,” Stiles says. During his time in Atlanta, he worked hostage negotiation and interrogation of child witnesses and victims, able to empathize and connect with his targets. Allowing Haigh at Derek makes his hackles rise.

His dad lays a hand on his shoulder, and Stiles subsides, adding, “But, I’m probably too close to the source.”

“That’s what the Sheriff thinks too,” Haigh says. “He wants your badge pending an investigation.”

“What? Why?”

“How is it that a trained officer is taken hostage?” Haigh’s smug smile makes Stiles’ insides twist. “Where was your service weapon?”

“I was off-duty,” Stiles protests. “Why would I be carrying then?”

“That’s something you’ll have to answer. Now, if you excuse me, I have an arson suspect to interrogate.”

“Now wait a minute!” John cries. Laura growls deep in her throat, her eyes flashing red. John puts a hand on her shoulder, like he did with Stiles. She shrugs him off. She is not so easily soothed.

“My brother was stolen before our house was burned down.”

“And how do you know he wasn’t working with the ‘kidnappers’?”

“Because I was thirteen,” Derek says. “Because Kate Argent drugged me and took me, and when I woke up, I was in New York.”

                                                                                                                      ~ * ~

MP, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14