#expect to find him out and about occasionally patrolling the woods too outside of the rounds.

[phobiaexists]

Thing I made for me and a friend based off our headcanons

007n7 design here is based off their own headcanons of him I won’t normally draw him with the horns or spines

[sashaisready]

Chapter Fifteen

Lee Bodecker (The Devil All The Time) x Femme Reader

A year after the sudden death of your husband you find yourself at a loose end, unsure what to do next. You're also learning about your sexuality - your hidden desires and fantasies creeping out now you're no longer playing the role of the good wife. A certain Sheriff in town could be the one to awaken something in you.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: some sexual references, smut, hints at heavy drinking/alcoholism

Author’s Note: Okay this is the final chapter! I hope you’ve enjoyed the story. I always have a lot of fun with Lee and this is one of my fave things I’ve written. Thank you for reading, please reblog/comment - I’d love to hear what you thought ❤️

You had to find Lee. You had to talk to him.

After rushing off from Julie you made a beeline for the station. The image of him nervously hovering outside the diner for you gave you hope that maybe all wasn't lost between you both. Maybe he missed you like you missed him. At the very least, maybe you could clear the air and try to be something resembling friends, no longer hastily avoiding each other's faces while in line at the grocery store.

Your talk with Julie had brought you back to those early days after Arthur. Haunted by his presence, but becoming something of a ghost of your own too – ambling around your house by yourself, living in the past - only sustained by fantasy and memory. 

You wanted to live.

Lee was on duty apparently but you couldn't find him anywhere. The station's secretary had just said he was out on patrol. He wasn't at the diner. Not at the bar. Nowhere you'd expect to find him.

As you drove towards his home you caught a glimpse of a familiar cruiser parked up at the side of the dirt road. You pulled over and rushed towards the car but he wasn't in there. He couldn't have gone far. The wind chilled your bones as you pulled your coat closer to your body and you grimaced, looking to the cruiser for sanctuary from the cold. It was unlocked so you climbed in, moving into the backseat and waiting for him to return as you took your jacket off. You weren't sure what you were going to say as you nervously waited for him, but you needed to think of something.

You didn't know it but Lee was only fifteen or so feet away having a quick piss and cigarette in the woods. He kept thinking about the bourbon bottle in his glove box, trying to stave off his cravings, knowing he was drinking earlier and earlier these days.

Losing you had done that to him. He had unravelled since the moment he left your house that night, playing the horrible events out in his head over and over. He knew he'd fucked up and he desperately wanted to talk to you, but had no idea what to say. He thought your frightened face as you sat weeping on the floor. He thought of your heart breaking when he told you the truth about Arthur. Your horror over what happened to Davey, your hurt when he implied you were a whore. You had every right to hate him and he wanted to respect your space.

Occasionally he'd wait around the diner wanting to see you but would inevitably chicken out and go back to his car. He'd even parked outside your house a few times. He'd come up with a million first lines for what he'd finally say to you, but they all evaporated on his tongue.

In short, he was a mess.

He sighed as he trudged back to his car and flopped down behind the wheel. A voice from behind him made him jump out of his skin.

"Hi" you said quietly.

Lee yelped in surprise, clumsily smashing the horn as he jumped and turned to look behind him at where the voice came from. You watched his face twist in shock, then saw him exhaling with relief when he realised it was you.

Lee's breath hitched. It was so good to see you. You looked beautiful as always. He could hardly believe you were here. He suddenly felt very nervous.

"Jesus Christ, are you tryna' fuckin' kill me?" he bellowed as he clasped a hand over his heart.

You couldn't help but laugh at the dramatic display, failing to muffle the sound as you held a hand to your mouth. Lee laughed a little too, in spite of himself.

"I wanted to talk to you" you said, more seriously now as you settled down.

"And you need to be in the back of my car to do that huh?" he mock scolded. "C'mon Crazy, come up here". He extended his hand to you.

"Crazy?" you said, incredulously.

"Yes - crazy to hide in my car and make me jump outta my skin like that."

He moved his hand to you again which you took gingerly as he smoothly pulled you into the front passenger seat. Your heart jumped as your fingers touched and you were briefly transported back to all the moments when his hands had been on yours.

You both sat in silence for a moment as your mind went blank and it was as if you had forgotten every word you'd ever known.

"Lee..." you started.

"No. Please let me" he said softly, looking out at the road. "I...I can't say how sorry I am. For everythin' I said. It was awful. I'm ashamed".

You nodded. "Thank-you Lee, I appreciate it".

"I keep thinkin' about it" he continued. "I shouldn't have told you about Arthur. At least not like that. And the truth is I don't think any of those things. I just said them to hurt you because you hurt me. And with Davey..."

"Lee" you said gently. He turned to face you and his big azure eyes were so full of pain and desperation that it almost hurt to look at him.

"It's alright. We both said terrible things we didn't mean".

"So you don't think I'm a brute?" he asked teasingly.

You giggled. "Well...maybe a little".

He scoffed playfully, rolling his eyes.

"A-and you don't think I'm a whore?" you asked him shyly.

"Of course not" he said quietly. "I just knew you it was somethin' that got to you and I regretted it right away". He averted his gaze, anxiously tracing the peeling leather of his seat.

"Listen, Lee" you sighed. "I need to tell you this. I've had a lot of time to think about it all. And I don't know how you're gonna react but I just need to get it out, alright? So just let me get it out".

He nodded silently, studying the peeling seat even more intently.

"With Davey...I know you did what you thought was right, in your own way. And he was a bad man. What he did to me was..."

You trailed off, not wanting to pull that thread. You stared out at the road as you carried on.

"Well, Julie told me he did similar to her. So I don't feel bad that he's gone. His damn plaque makes me feel sick every time I walk by it, but I know he's burning in Hell and for now that's enough. That being said, it doesn't excuse what you did. It wasn't okay. I'm never gonna fully be alright with it, but I am a big girl who understands life ain't black and white and I accept it".

You took a deep breath. Lee was nodding, watching you carefully from the corner of his eye.

"And what you told me about Arthur...that was messed up, too. It broke my heart, Lee. It did. But also, you were right. Arthur did make me feel bad about myself. Made me feel dirty. All the while he was playin' behind my back. He wasn't the man or husband I thought he was. And knowing that...I feel free now. Lighter. Like I don't have to feel guilty and live up this expectation that don't exist. So I'm glad you told me really, even if it was in a terrible way".

You turned to look at him, but couldn't read his face. So you carried on.

"And I'm sorry I said those cruel things, I am. You ain't perfect but honest I didn't mean any of it. I loved the time I spent with you. You made me so happy for the first time in a long time. I don't regret any of it".

Lee nodded. "Me neither".

"And finally" you sighed, this was the hardest one to say. "I'm sorry for how I acted...with the forceful 'stuff' on the table right before our fight. And then breaking up with you right after. It was mean to drop that on you like that".

Lee chuckled. "Yeah...the dumpin' was mean. You're right about that. But honey..."

He turned to face you, his face devilish.

"...you don't ever have to say sorry for the table stuff. Never. My God. That little memory has been sustainin' me for months".

You blushed a deep red, hiding your face behind your fingers. "Lee...c'mon" you whined.

He grabbed your hand, removing it from your face and looking you in the eye.

"I ain't kidding, sweetie. That was unbelievable. I know you were mad but fuck, it was sublime...you made me come without even touching me. I'll be thinking about it on my deathbed".

You groaned, embarrassed as Lee laughed softly. Teasing you like always. You felt a pang of longing for him. For what you used to be.

"I'm sorry too" he said sombrely.

"Maybe we could start from scratch as friends?" you asked hopefully. "Wipe the slate clean. Not talk about any of this again".

Lee looked at you thoughtfully, but then he ran his tongue over his teeth and winced.

"Sorry babydoll, that's just not gonna work for me. I don't wanna be your friend" he said sadly.

You felt your stomach drop but smiled sweetly anyway, hoping he wouldn't notice how crestfallen you were. It wasn't the answer you wanted, but you knew there was always a possibility this was how it would go - too much had happened between you.

"That's okay...I understand. But I'm at least glad we got to talk it out" you said gently, your hand going for the door handle as you sat up to leave.

Lee's arm pressed firmly against your chest, pushing you back down in your seat.

"I can't let you leave here as just a friend" he said earnestly as he looked intensely into your eyes.

"Cos I love you, babydoll. More than anythin' on this earth. I love how you make me feel. I love that you're fuckin' filthy. I love that you're always surprisin' me. I love that you just tracked me down and rather than just wait you hid in the back of my cruiser for no goddamn reason. And I'm afraid I can't let you leave this car and walk outta my life again. I was stupid the first time around but I'm not stupid enough to let it happen again" he sighed. "Guess we're at an impasse cos you ain't goin' nowhere".

Your eyes filled with tears. "Oh Lee" you whispered. "I love you too".

"Well, get over here" he laughed.

You sprang across the seats up onto his lap and kissed him deeply, your hands cupping his face tightly, as if you were somehow worried he'd slip away. He snaked his thick fingers into your hair and groaned softly into your mouth as his other hand clutched at your side. It was the best kiss of your life. Everything unsaid between you was in that kiss. Each lonely night you'd missed one another was in that kiss. Every touch, every bit of love you felt for each other.

He held your waist so securely that you weren't sure you'd ever be able to get off of him. Not that you wanted to. You began to subtly shift your hips back and forth without even noticing, the muscle memory from all your history with him. You could feel his hard length pressing into your lap, nearly chuckling out loud at his consistency – Lee was always ready to go.

It all happened wordlessly, nothing needed to be said. You pushed up off of him for a moment as his hands moved underneath you to undo his belt and you moved your briefs to the side. It didn't have the usual frantic urgency like all those times before, you didn't need it. All you had was time, now. It was all calm and measured, a silent ballet of your bodies, the kiss never broken. He revealed himself from his fly and you lowered yourself gently onto him, burying him to the hilt. You both whimpered at the sensation and you began to rock slowly, finding a gentle rhythm together.

Lee broke the kiss and stroked your cheek as he gazed into your eyes. You stared back and found only love in his baby blues. For the first time, the sex between you was slow and gentle, tender and sentimental. No dirty talk, no power struggle. It was a physical representation of all that had just been declared, all you'd been through.

After a few minutes you climaxed together with your foreheads touching, both whimpering with your eyes closed, fingers clenching tightly onto each other's bodies. You sank your head against his chest, suddenly exhausted. Your mind was clear for the first time in a long time. You both sat in silence, him still inside of you. It was good to be home.

His hand found your chin and he pulled you towards him again, kissing you softly and nibbling on your lip.

You pulled away from him for a second. "If we are gonna do this you gotta stop drinking" you scolded him between kisses, gesturing to the bourbon peeking out of the glovebox.

"Mmm" he moaned softly, his lips dropping to your neck as he worked back up to your face.

"I will. But I always end up eatin' more candy when I'm sober so you might have to go to bed with a fat bastard".

"That's fine, more to love" you whispered. "You know how much I love your extra padding, Lee". You ran a finger across his soft tummy.

"Besides, maybe I can help you relieve your cravings in different ways" you winked.

He grinned back at you. "C'mon babydoll. Let's go home".

🌼 Six months later...🌼

"Does this look okay?" you asked nervously, twirling in your dress. You had two different shoes on as you weren't sure which pair to wear.

"'Course, you look great babydoll" Lee replied as he carefully put on his tie.

"Nothing fits right with this damn bump" you grumbled, looking at your gently rounded stomach in the mirror.

"Hey, that's my kid you're talkin' about" he chided lightly.

"You ready for this?" you asked as you pinned up your hair.

"Not really. I hate these damn community gala things. But it's all part of being the Sheriff. Gotta do my hand shakin' and drink buyin' now the election is done".

"Mmm. And thanking your spouse for playing the role of the dutiful little Sheriff's wife".

"Of course. But at least you don't have to play Bridge anymore".

"Don't remind me" you scroffed. "I just wish I could drink the wine tonight" you sighed.

"I'm not drinkin' either remember? Besides, the wine is always terrible at these things anyway" replied Lee.

"I'd kill for a cocktail...just three more months to go" you mumbled.

"Okay enough bellyachin'. You ready Mrs B?" Lee asked as he straightened his jacket.

You frowned. "It's still early, Lee. We don't have to leave for another forty five minutes or so".

Lee nodded. "Mmm. But I was thinking we could make a detour to our favourite dirt road. See how the cruiser feels on ya". He smirked, slapping you firmly on the behind.

"Lee!" you gasped, laughing. "We don't need to do that anymore. We're married! We have a baby on the way! We have a big comfy bed!"

"I know that" he chuckled. "But why not. For old time's sake?"

You met his gaze in the mirror, returning his wicked grin.

"Okay...you're on Mr B...But bring the cuffs..."

[mosswillow]

Useless - Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader (part one)

Warnings: 18+ Adult content!, Werewolves, A/B/O, Possessive behavior, Dark, Non con/dub con, Forced marriage, power imbalance, general misogyny, Punishments, smut, violence .

Summary: “Trying to fight this is useless doll, we’ll always end up right back here.” You’re the bottom of the pack, an Omega, and Steve has chosen you for his mate.

A/N: This will probably be two or three parts. Likes, reblogging, comments are always welcome.  

Word count: 3.2k

Present

The forest is cold and dark. Snow drifts down, soaking your coat and chilling you to the bone but you barely notice. All you can think about is getting away. You’ve been running for so long and need a break. You look back, slowing to a brisk walk when you don’t see anything. You can’t stop moving, not until you’re at the edge of your pack's territory, not until you’re safe.

They weren’t expecting you to do it. It’s always been an option but you’ve never actually known anyone who has run. Wolves need and like pack structures, leaving doesn’t even cross most of their minds. You know a few who have mated into other packs but running is unheard of. You’re different though. You've never felt content with the structure or hierarchy. The way you’ve grown up has left you with contempt for pack life. Even still, you would have stayed despite it if it wasn’t for Steve. You don’t want to run from your friends and family, don’t want to leave the life you’ve known since birth. The decision to run was hard but you had to make it.

2 months ago.

“Y/N We need to talk to you,” Your mom tells you over the phone.

“What is it? What happened?”

“Just come over tonight for dinner ok?”

You hang up your phone worried and confused. You see your parents almost every day and already plan on having dinner with them tomorrow. Your mom didn’t sound upset, in fact she seemed excited, but you have the sinking feeling that something is very wrong.

You arrive at your parents house at six, walking in and hanging up your jacket. You always feel calm in your childhood home. It’s familiar and warm. You had the option to stay, most Omegas do, but you wanted to have a place of your own. As soon as you came of age you packed up and moved into your own home on the compound. Getting a little space, as small as it is, has helped you be content with your life.

There’s a nice smell coming from the kitchen and you kick your shoes off and make your way through the house.

“Mom, Dad, I’m here.”

You walk into the kitchen and see him there with them. Steve Rogers.

“Oh, hi Steve. I didn’t know you would be here too.” Your stomach drops.

“Why don’t we sit down.” Your mom says cheerfully.

You sit across from Steve and start eating. It’s a complicated meal that you know took some time to make. You know why this is happening, why Steve is here and why your parents put in extra effort into this dinner. You act like you don’t know though. Maybe if you act dumb he won’t say what you know he’s about to say.

“Steve has some good news.” you father says, looking at you wearily.

“Oh?”

“I made second Alpha.” Steve says.

“Congratulations,” you deadpan. Your tone doesn’t go unnoticed and your parents both shift uncomfortably in their seats.

“Now that it’s official I can finally find a mate.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone great.”

Everyone stares at you but you act oblivious.

“Y/N It’s you. I pick you.”

You set your fork down, finally dropping the act.You’ve always known Steve has a thing for you. You’ve heard through Alpha friends that Steve has asked more than one Alpha to stay away from you. You’ve made it clear that you aren’t interested in him but it obviously hasn’t dissuaded him. It’s not that you’re not attracted to him or think he’s a bad guy, you just don’t feel ready for any sort of relationship yet. You know that for an Omega getting mated means giving up your autonomy. Alphas don’t take things slowly once they start relationships so you’ve been careful around them not to start anything. Maybe you’ll want to be mated and have pups one day but not yet.

“No thank you.”

“Y/N! I’m sorry Alpha, we thought she was over this.” Your father says.

Steve sets his fork down and leans back in his chair.

“I’m not asking, I'm telling. As a pack leader it’s my right to choose a mate. It’s always been you.”

He’s right, His new standing gives him the right to choose a mate. He can pick you if he wants and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it.

“When?”

“Three months.”

You stand and walk away pulling your shoes on quickly and slamming the front door on your way out. Your parents yell and Steve follows behind you, grabbing your forgotten jacket.

“Y/N stop!”

You whip around and glare at him.

“Find a different wolf to mate Steve.”

“No, you’re the one I want.” he crosses his arms and glares right back at you.

“You’re really going to force me to be your mate? You don’t see how fucked up this is?”

“This shouldn’t be a surprise doll, I’ve always made my intentions with you clear.”

“And I’ve made it clear that I’m not interested.”

He lifts his hand to your face wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized you'd shed.

“I don’t get it, why me? You could be with any wolf you want. You could find an Alpha or Beta and be in a power couple or If you wanted someone to do the whole Alpha Omega dynamic thing there are plenty willing Omegas out there.”

Steve bites his bottom lip and grabs you, forcing you into a hug.

“When we were in highschool before I hit my growth spurt and presented as an Alpha everyone thought I would be an Omega, do you remember that?”

“Yes.”

You don’t like thinking about that time in your life. Everyone thought you were going to be an Alpha, including you. You were a confident pup, raised to be a leader. Everything changed when you presented as an Omega and not for the better.

“You were the only one that didn’t bully me back then.”

You pull out of his arms.

“Wait, I was nice to you in highschool so you’re returning the favor by forcing me into a mating bond? What the fuck Steve.”

“It’s not about you, it’s about me. I’ve worked hard for my position in the pack and you’re my reward.”

“I’m not a reward, I'm a person.”

“You’re an Omega.”

“Stay away from me,” you yell. In a moment of pure anger you try, dramatically, to push him over but end up panting against his unmoving body.

You start to shake slightly and Steve holds your jacket open for you.

“Put it on, you’re cold.”

You are cold, but you’re also angry and stubborn. You stare at Steve and clench your jaw. He immediately reacts to the challenge, his body towering over you in a show of dominance. You try to fight against your instincts but they tell you to stand down. He’s your Alpha, even if you weren’t an Omega you would still feel the push to submit to a stronger wolf. You start to waver and finally lower your head. Steve holds the jacket out for you again and this time you put your arms through and zip it up. Steve puts his hand under your chin, gently lifting it until you’re staring at him.

“Trying to fight this is useless doll, we’ll always end up right back here.”

Your body relaxes in defeat and you don’t struggle as Steve puts his arm around you and walks you back to your home. He gives you a kiss on the cheek and waits until you’re inside with the door locked to leave.

Present.

Everyone has the right to run, even Omegas. One chance to make it outside the pack's territory. The rules are that you have to start in the compound, leave after midnight and make it out before sunrise. You can’t use a car or get help from anyone. If you aren’t caught they have to let you go. You will be considered a rogue wolf. You’ll have to find another pack or live like the humans. That’s if you make it out. If you’re caught you will either bare your neck and take any punishment that your Alpha deems necessary or fight one of the pack Alphas, which you know would end up being Steve.

You start running again. You focus on reaching the quickly approaching edge of your pack's territory, ignoring the fact that you can no longer feel your paws due to the snow covered ground. Every step gives you hope. You didn’t tell a soul you were even thinking about leaving but that doesn’t mean nobody noticed. You know Steve has wolves watching you and that’s in addition to the wolves that patrol the woods.

You stop in your tracks when you hear a branch snap. You know they’re here before seeing the group of wolves appear in front of you. They slowly stalk towards you working together to push you away from the border line. You growl and run as fast as you can, trying to get around them. You can see the finish line, you’re so close. You’re tired though and they surround you easily, leaving no way to escape.

1.5 months ago.

You order a drink from the bartender and take a sip. The liquid burns down your throat and your mind feels a little more fuzzy. You come here often with friends. It’s one of the few businesses in town that are completely hidden from the human world, disguised behind a washateria. Wolves from neighboring packs gather here as well as the occasional rogue wolf. It’s generally a good time and tonight is no different.

“He’s here. I told you he’d come.” Wanda says nervously.

You look over to see Steve. His eyes are on you and he’s not even trying to mask his anger a little. Everyone in the bar knows why he’s here, you’re sure at least a few wolves texted him. Even the wolves from other packs shy away from Steve as he takes long strides towards you.

“You’re going to be in so much trouble Y/N.” Natasha says, shaking her head.

“What can I say, I love pissing him off.” you down the rest of your drink, knowing that you probably won't get to stay here much longer.

Steve smiles as he reaches you.

“Y/N.”

You hold your middle finger up toward him and every wolf in the bar goes silent at the display of disrespect. Anyone in the pack would be punished for an action like that and you know exactly what will happen next but don’t care.

Steve acts quickly grabbing the back of your neck and pushing you against the bar.

“Want to try that again?”

He lets you go and motions with his head to the floor. You kneel and look down.

“I’m sorry for my disrespect Alpha.” you say.

Steve crouches in front of you.

“Who is your superior, Omega?”

“You are Alpha.”

“And who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Stay.”

Steve leaves you kneeling on the floor and orders a drink. He ignores you for a full twenty minutes before reaching down and pulling you up.

“I think you should be getting home now, I’ll drive you.”

You look at your shocked friends and flash a smile before following Steve out of the bar.

Steve takes your hand and pulls you to the alleyway, pushing you against the wall.

“You want to explain yourself?”

“I already apologised.”

Steve pulls his phone out and shows you a video of yourself at the bar twerking while wolves from neighboring packs watch. One walks up to you and flirts and you touch his arm flirting back. You’ve never really been one to show off like that but you’ll do anything if you know it will make Steve angry. You giggle at the sight and Steve growls.

“This looks bad on me, like I can’t control my Omega.”

“You’re welcome to choose a more obedient Omega, one you can control easier.”

“Ah, I see what you’re doing, it’s clever.”

Steve swipes his thumb over your lips.

“You think you can play games with me…”

He pushes his thumb into your mouth slowly.

“but you forget…”

Steve pulls his hand back and places it over your throat.

“Alphas are really good at games...”

He leans in and nibbles on your ear.

“And we always win,” he whispers

Steve lets you go and steps back, holding out his hand for you to take.

“Come.”

Present

Steve shifts into his human form and takes a few steps toward you.

“It’s over Y/N.”

You growl at him and move into a protective stance.

“I know it’s your right but I don’t want to fight you, if you just submit we can end this little rebellion now and go home.”

You stand your ground unwilling to go down without a fight. You know that the fight will leave you more physically hurt than if you submitted and took the punishment but you have to try. If you beat Steve they’ll let you go. You can’t live your life wondering what would have happened even if the chances of you winning are slim. Maybe he’ll get hit by lightning, you never know.

Steve sighs. “I guess we’re doing this.”

One month ago

You fill a cup of coffee and hand it to a customer. You’ve been working at a coffee shop in town since you were a teen and love it. You wipe down the espresso machine and check your watch. Only a few minutes until your shift ends. You hear the jingle of bells that mean a new customer is here and your heart drops as Steve walks in. He walks to the counter and smiles at you.

“Can I get a mocha?”

You roll your eyes and make him his coffee. Steve's face hardens at your attitude and you smirk knowing he can’t do anything here, in a shop where humans visit. You hand him his drink and head to the back to clock out.

“What do you want?” you ask as you walk out of work and to your car.

Steve walks ahead of you and leans against the drivers side door. He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re on thin ice Y/N and not just with me. You’re very close to having town privileges taken away.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?”

“If I was an Alpha nobody would care about my - ” you pause “ - rebellious spirit.”

Steve sets his coffee on top of your car and grabs your wrists in one hand and holds them against himself.

“If you can pull even one hand out of my grip I won’t force you to mate me.”

You know what he’s doing but you pull against him anyways trying to get your arms free. it’s no use. He doesn’t even seem like he’s trying and you give up after only a few minutes. He finally lets your arms go and flips you so your back is against the car. He puts his arms on either side of you and leans in slightly.

“The hierarchy is here for a reason, the sooner you accept it the sooner you can be happy.”

You reach up and grab his hot coffee from behind you throwing it in his face. You immediately regret the decision as he slams his body against you. He grabs your arm so hard you cry out in pain. A car full of  humans parks next to you and Steve let's go.

“Hey, Are you ok ma'am?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You smile.

When they leave Steve opens your car door and pushes you in.

“Go home.”

You

Present

Steve shifts back to his wolf and sits down several feet away from you. You lunge for him, getting a bite in and he throws you off. You hit a nearby tree and lie on the ground for a minute before standing and lunging again. He bites you and slams you down and again you stand swaying a bit. You keep going over and over attacking and being thrown against the ground or trees. The Alpha and Beta wolves that have been watching start whimpering at the sight. Several shift into humans to beg you to stop. Steve paces between rounds and you can tell he’s extremely upset with the whole ordeal. Eventually you’re so bruised and battered you have no choice but to bare your neck and submit.

Three weeks ago

You run around your home getting ready for tonight. You’re usually excited for parties. You like when the whole pack gets together. That was before though. You haven't seen Steve since the incident at work and the lack of communication makes you nervous.

You take a deep breath before opening your door. Steve is waiting for you on your porch and looks you up and down before pushing you inside.

“What?”

“Sit.”

You roll your eyes and sit on the couch crossing your arms and Steve stands in front of you.

“Your behavior has gotten out of control.”

You bite your tongue in an attempt to stop yourself from saying something you’ll regret.

“We’re taking away your town privileges.”

“What about work?”

“I was going to have you quit after we mate anyway.”

You bury your emotions knowing that acting out in any way will just make everything worse.

“Let’s just go,” you finally say.

Steve puts his arms around you as you walk to the party. Nothing you’ve tried has worked to dissuade him from claiming you. The crazy part is that you don’t even hate him. Your heart flutters when he’s near. You disgusted with yourself for loving the attention. If he had waited you probably would have accepted his advances. He forced you though. Everyone thinks you’re being ridiculous and sometimes you agree but you just can’t bring yourself to give up. You know what you have to do now, what your only choice is if you want freedom. You have to run.

Present

You shiver in the snow, barely conscious. Steve wraps a blanket around you and lifts you into his arms.

“What am I going to do with you? My strong little Omega.” His voice cracks. It’s the first time you’ve heard actual emotion in it.

You drift in and out of consciousness as he carries you to a nearby car parked off road. He drives you back to the compound. The entire pack is silently waiting for you. Your mom cries when she sees your body and your dad won’t even look at you. Steve doesn’t carry you to your home like you expect and instead brings you to his. He lies you in his bed and covers you with several warm blankets before leaving you to sleep.

You failed.

Steve was right, you’ll always end up right back here.

PART TWO

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Road Not Taken (one-shot)

Part of the Stray Wolves Series

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Language, Lots of dirty talk, breeding kink, mentions of knotting, heavy degradation...basically, this is pure filth (but only at the end)

Word Count: 5.5 K

Genre: Werewolf AU; Marriage AU

Summary: It’s true that Bang Chan, the legendary pack alpha of the Stray Wolves, had never felt the need to take a mate until he met Y/N, the much-younger she-wolf who stole his heart. As the pack alpha’s mate, there are certain expectations that she must meet in her position, but she’s still learning while also getting into trouble with her close friends Seungmin and Jeongin. 

Honestly speaking, the concept of mates and mating had never held any influence over me until the day I officially presented as an Omega. Suddenly, the idea of growing old with someone while taking care of our pups seemed like a scenario that I desperately needed in my life. Consequently, it consumed all of my dreams involving the future, but I still didn’t expect a proposal from my pack alpha whose dimpled smile made me feel incredibly special.

For starters, Chan was much older than me, and he was friends with my older brother, Jisung, who was caught off-guard by our sudden romance. You see, Chan became pack alpha after our last leader formally retired, and he had been serving in his place for many years. It was always customary for the pack alpha to find a mate, but Chan didn’t seem to favor the traditional approach. In fact, many of my pack members thought that he would never find a mate.

At least, until Chan approached me one morning after the two of us spent the day hunting together, which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Despite being Jisung’s friend, Chan and I were fairly close, and I liked spending time with him because he never saw me as a younger member who still needed time to mature. And maybe I was young and reckless, but Chan never treated me like I was something to coddle, even if his overprotective instincts occasionally intervened.

When I officially mated with Chan, the entire pack was shocked. It seemed somewhat scandalous considering our age-gap and the numerous women who Chan had passed on throughout his tenure as alpha. But Chan had never concerned himself with the opinions of others, and he simply brought me into his life like I had always belonged next to his side.

It was an enormous responsibility, and I was still learning how to properly navigate the complexities of my responsibilities as pack Luna, especially in consideration of my age. But I wanted to do my best for Chan since he was giving me everything that I wanted, and, for the most part, I stayed on my best behavior for him, even if it was sometimes hard to resist the occasional moment of mischief. Especially when my friends Seungmin and Jeongin were involved, and they were a big part of the reason why our little trio had been deemed the pack’s troublemakers.

Maybe that’s why Chan always hesitated whenever I brought them up in conversation, and I carefully studied my mate from the warmth of our bed as dressed himself in regular clothes. “What are your plans, love?” he asked while busying himself with the buttons on his shirt.

“I don’t know,” I answered mindlessly. “I’ll probably just spend the day with Seungmin and Jeongin.”

Chan grimaced at the mention of their names, adjusting the leather strap of his belt as he considered me with dark eyes. “Just be careful,” he said, approaching the bedside to lean down and inhale deeply against my neck. 

“I’m not a kid,” I grumbled against his touch, squirming around on the mattress.

“I know you’re not,” Chan said, smirking when he pulled back. “But it’s my job to worry about you.”

“You don’t have to worry all the time,” I protested, but Chan’s smile was still warm as he left our shared bedroom, and I waited until I could hear the sound of the front door closing before jumping out of bed.

When I was barely of age to leave my mother’s side, I met Seungmin and Jeongin by accident. Apparently, the younger two pups had formed a formiddable alliance, and they always did their best to push the limits of their mother’s patience. They were brothers by blood, but they were also best friends, and I never thought that I would find a place in their dynamic.

However, when we met for the very first time, I found out that Seungmin and Jeongin shared a lot of the same mischievous nature that often resulted in my mother apologizing to the older wolves who complained when I disrupted their frequent slumber. Because of our natural inclinations for mischief, I found myself joining the brothers as we wrecked havoc and mayhem on our other pack members who were certainly not impressed by our hijinks.

I’m sure my past behavior contributed to my pack’s hesitance when Chan accepted me as his mate. After all, they would be expected to show the pack Luna respect, but that was hardly feasible considering who I liked to keep in close company. Initially, Chan had tried to discourage our meetings by forcing Jeongin and Seungmin to join as many hunting and border patrols as he could manage. But we still found ways to see one another, and I think Chan gradually decided that he couldn’t stop the inevitable, even if his most recent warning to the brothers had forced them to reconsider some of our more impressive pranks...

“Are you sure about this?”

There was a slight note of trepidation in Seungmin’s tone, and it matched the look of insecurity on his face as we stood outside of the abandoned house in the woods. It was fabled among our pack’s younger members to be haunted, and some of the elder had warned us that it was strictly off-limits which, of course, stoked my curiosity. So, I scoffed at his hesitation because both Seungmin and Jeongin had been excited to talk about visiting the house last night. Yet, confronted with the real thing, they were both suddenly the world’s biggest cowards.

“Come on, guys, we all want to know what’s inside,” I said, reaching back for Seungmin’s hand. 

“Yeah, but if it’s something bad...” Jeongin trailed off, and his eyes widened with a sudden realization. “What if Chan finds out?”

“He’ll never know,” I assured him. “Let’s just go inside and look around.”

I started forward without an ounce of hesitation, walking up the front steps of the house’s porch with confidence. I could also hear Seungmin and Jeongin following me from behind, and I took that as a good sign that my friends has refused to feel intimidated by my alpha’s attempts to ruin our fun. After all, what’s the worst that could happen in an abandoned house?

With this in mind, I reached out to open the front door, and it was unsurprising when I found it unlocked, allowing it to fall back against the hinges. The inside of the house was musty and old, and there was a foul smell in the air like the house was hiding something that was slowly rotting away. Whatever it was, I nearly gagged around the smell as it assaulted by sensitive nose, looking back over at Seungmin and Jeongin who both wore matching expressions of disgust.

“Where is that coming from?” Seungmin asked, and I allowed him to take the lead as we walked into the first room.

It appeared to be some form of kitchen, and I could identify dozens of places that might generate such a foul-smelling stench. “This place is disgusting,” Jeongin said. 

“What did you expect?” I snorted. 

“It’s really cold too,” Jeongin remarked, and I startled when I realized that he was right, and that was a bit strange considering the weather outside.

Nevertheless, I continued my exploration of the house, leaving the kitchen and approaching some of the rooms at the back of the house. I heard Jeongin and Seungmin laughing at something in the kitchen, but I paid them no mind as I opened the door to the first room.

It wasn’t anything special, but there was a bed in the middle of the floor and a closet near the heavily boarded-up window. I exhaled slowly, walking across the creaking floorboards as I noticed something strangely familiar tickling my senses. My wolf was suddenly on high-alert, and I was trying to look for anything that might be triggering the hair-raising response to whatever I was smelling that was right on the edge of my consciousness...

“Y/N!”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, spinning around on my heel at the sound of Jeongin’s high-pitched shrill. “Hey!” I shouted, leaving the bedroom door wide open as I retraced my steps to the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“Y/N.” Seungmin’s voice was hushed, and the two boys were standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a defensive posture. I stood on my toes to look over them, and I felt my breath hitch at the back of my throat because standing at the entrance to the kitchen was a man. But I knew immediately that he wasn’t just an ordinary human who happened upon the house...

“Vampire,” I whispered, but not like our neighbors who lived in the mountains. These were rogue vampires who had been cast aside, and they were left without the necessary vampire bonds and fresh sources of blood required to sustain them. It certainly explained the metallic smell that had been all over that bedroom, and it provided justification for the lack of sunlight penetrating the inside. 

This vampire was in the late stages of decay, and his blood-red eyes revealed that he was in no mood for our playful adventure. In fact, I could detect the hunger in his gaze, and I reached for Seungmin’s arm because I knew that we were in trouble.

“We need to get outside,” Jeongin said, and I nodded in response. 

Because this vampire would not last in the sun, and it was our only possible form of salvation since there was no fighting a desperate vampire. 

“Start walking the other way,” Seungmin said, and the three of us started to back up carefully, keeping the vampire in our line of sight as we tried for another means of escape.

However, I had taken no more than a couple of steps backwards when I felt another cold blast hit me from behind. I immediately stopped, and it caught Seungmin’s attention. He turned around to confront me, but his eyes widened and I knew that he had found the source of that chilly presence.

There was more than one vampire in this house. 

“We’ll have to fight,” I said, and Jeongin whimpered at the idea.

“Stay close,” Seungmin said, and we formed a protective circle as the Vampires started to approach, fangs bared and with sinister snarls interrupting the quiet of the kitchen.

I held my breath, waiting for the right opportunity to shift, when I heard Seungmin let out a warning growl, and I realized too late that the first vampire had launched himself at my friends. Our circle was broken, and I nearly lost my balance at the force thrown against me from behind. Yet, it also created the perfect opportunity for the second Vampire who quickly took advantage of the distraction. 

I fell to the ground hard, groaning at the pain jolting through my shoulder from the impact. But I was given no time to consider my injuries as my adrenaline kicked in and affected all of my concentration. It was enough to take my mind away from the fall, but not enough to muster an offensive strike. I was left playing defense with a rabid Vampire who knew that I was much weaker on my own. 

I whimpered as the Vampire stood over me, teeth glinting menacingly as he hissed in my direction. I closed my eyes at the harsh sound, ready to accept my fate at the hands of the cruel Vampire, when a familiar howl broke through the haze of fear and confusion. And I realized with a barely-restrained gasp that an enormous jet-black wolf had suddenly attacked the Vampire, saving my life. I took a moment to catch my breath before using the counter to help myself stand up again, looking around the room at my pack members fighting the Vampires who had almost successful in their campaign.

I winced when I realized that the familiar jet-black wolf was my mate, and he was savage in his assault. Yet, at the same time, I realized that Chan was not inflicting much damage to the Vampire - almost like he didn’t want to harm it. I was puzzled by the consideration, but a quick tug on my arm alerted me to Changbin, our pack Beta, who was yelling at me to join the others outside.

I immediately obeyed his order, trying to avoid the Vampires and Werewolves engaged in heavy conflict, noticing that more Vampires had somehow joined the attack. But the escalating situation was left behind for the much-needed sunlight, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I found Seungmin and Jeongin unharmed. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” I said, allowing them to wrap their arms around me in familiar embrace.

“Y/N,” Seungmin said, looking at me with concerned eyes. “The house is protected by King Felix. It’s meant to provide a place for rogue Vampires to die in peace.”

I swallowed hard at the mention of the Vampire King who Chan had tried so hard to maintain good relations. “What have we done?” I asked, turning around at the sound of an all-too familiar voice.

Of course it was Chan, walking with our pack members as they diligently followed their alpha. He was talking to an older Vampire, one who I had never noticed before, and she was positively enraged as she practically screamed in my mate’s face. Apparently, the situation had evolved into something that held far more consequences, and I had never felt so ashamed.

When Chan came closer, I shivered at the rage in his eyes, and I refused to meet his gaze when he pulled me behind him. “We’ll talk later,” he growled, reminding me of the intimidating alpha who was feared throughout the neighboring packs.

“King Felix marked these lands as neutral,” the older Vampire said. “And you agreed.”

Chan stepped forward, keeping his hands behind his back as he addressed the elderly woman who sneered at my pack mates. “I’m sorry for their intrusion,” Chan said, bowing low at the waist. “It won’t happen again.”

“I hope not,” the old woman said. “You should train your pups to behave.”

I could feel myself blushing at being categorized as a pup when, as the pack alpha’s mate, I was expected to be one of the most mature members. It had a chastening effect, and I cowered behind Chan with my wolf’s tail metaphorically caught between my legs. Surely, everyone else in the pack would find out about our misadventure, and if they thought the same thing as this older vampire...

I shivered, resisting the urge to whine and lean into Chan’s familiar weight.

“They’ll be disciplined,” Chan reassured the vampire, glancing at me from the corner of his eye with a look that screamed punishment. 

“I’ll let this go since it’s your first infraction and my vampires weren’t harmed,” she said. “But if I catch any of your wolves out here again...”

She closed her eyes as if she wanted to control her latent rage. But Chan understood the inherent warning. “The agreement was made for everyone’s protection,” Chan said. “This is the last time you will see wolves here.”

The older vampire snorted before retreating inside the house, and I tried not to whine when Chan took a firm hold of my arm, pulling me along next to him as we returned to camp for the evening.

The pack alpha’s cabin was located strategically at the back of our defined camp where Chan and I could find privacy together. I usually savored the distance from my pack mates, but I was feeling increasingly wary following my embarrassing blunder with the rogue vampires. The idea of spending unsolicited time alone with Chan was suddenly an intimidating prospect. 

Still, it wasn’t in my nature to avoid my mistakes, and I followed Chan inside our shared cabin. He paused at the entrance to remove his shoes before heading in the direction of our bedroom, and I quickly followed his lead. Even as my wolf cautioned us to approach carefully, I didn’t want to exhibit that kind of behavior around Chan because it would only contribute to my immature image.

“Hey,” Chan finally addressed me, standing in front of our dresser. “Sit down.”

I held my tongue, eliminating the few steps to the edge of our bed where I deposited myself on top of the mattress. My weight sunk down into the foamy material, and I supported myself back on my arms, waiting for Chan to speak again. In the meantime, I fought the desire to try and explain myself since I knew that speaking out of term would only infuriate my older mate.

“What did your mother teach you about Vampires?” Chan asked. “Or, did you not pay attention?”

I flinched at his cruel tone. “She told me they were our enemies and that I should avoid them.”

“Did she?” Chan questioned. “Because your actions suggest that you ignored that lesson.”

“I’m sorry, Chan,” I said, deciding that, instead of justifying my bad behavior, I should try and appeal to him instead.

“I don’t really think you are,” Chan scoffed, looking at me from over his shoulder. “In fact, I’m wondering if you were even serious when you agreed to be my mate.”

I shuddered at his claim. “How can you say that? I love you, Chan.”

“You can love me and still be unprepared for the responsibilities of pack Luna,” Chan said. “Otherwise, you would think twice before putting yourself in situations where you could send a bad example to the rest of our pack.”

“I’m ready,” I insisted. “I want to be a good mate for you.”

“Then you better start proving that those aren’t just empty promises,” Chan growled, and I was thoroughly unprepared for his sharp tone. “What if you had gotten hurt? Those rogues weren’t able to control themselves, and you put yourself and your friends in danger.”

“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt,” I said. “It was a mistake.”

“I’m so glad you realize that,” Chan said with heavy sarcasm. “Why didn’t that cross your mind before taunting a group of vampires?” 

“We didn’t know that there were vampires in the house!”

“Have you lost the ability to smell?” Chan snapped. “Why didn’t you take precautions?”

“I-I guess we weren’t thinking about that,” I said, stumbling over my answers to his difficult questions.

Chan sighed, turning around to look at me before his eyes grew darker, and I found myself on the receiving end of an approaching alpha with malicious intent. Instinctively, I crawled backwards on the bed, colliding against the headboard while Chan closed the distance between us, looming over top of me with one hand wrapping itself around my throat. It wasn’t enough to cause harm, but to send a message:  “One second,” Chan said. “That’s all they need to snap this pretty neck.”

I swallowed hard, and I could feel my throat constricting from his powerful grip. “Channie,” I whispered. “You don’t know how sorry I am.”

He closed his eyes, leaning in closer to inhale sharply against my scent gland. “What if I had lost you?” 

The words sent shivers down my spine because I could feel the heavy and warm humidity of his breath coating my skin. I stiffened from my position underneath him, suddenly realizing that Chan’s concerns went beyond potential conflict with the vampires. Those rogues would likely never attack an entire pack of wolves unprovoked, but the delicate balance of life and death hung on a narrow precipice when it involved younger wolves playing foolish games. “I’m still here,” I assured him, releasing calming pheromones to alleviate the ripe smell of fear masking his usual scent.

“You can’t do these things anymore,” Chan said, lifting his head to look at me. “Do you understand?”

I nodded in response, keeping steady contact with his stormy gaze. “I’ll be better for you, Chan.”

He sighed, and there was a sudden change taking hold of his demeanor, hardening the corners of his eyes and the harsh upturn to his upper lip. The transformation was subtle, but his scent was becoming thicker, a reminder of something dominant lurking beneath Chan’s soft, curly hair and dimpled smile. I knew better than to push him in this state, so I simply bared my throat, relaxing my arms across the bed.

“Such a good bitch when she wants to be,” Chan growled, and I swallowed hard, eyelids fluttering closed when his nose pressed into my swollen scent gland. His teeth nipped the delicate flesh, and I could feel his tongue tracing the ridges of his faded mark. Chan released another warning snarl, telling me to keep still for him while he examined my body with wide, studious eyes. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve considered it intimate, but there was something that Chan wanted to prove, and he was waiting for the right opportunity.

I watched as he explored my smaller figure, hands gliding along my waist while his nose inhaled along his journey south, exciting my senses and the wolf inside of me who was impressed by her mate’s display of alpha dominance. However, I couldn’t help but think that it was embarrassing to feel his nose press into the private junction between my thighs, and I squeezed my legs around his head when his tongue attempted to lap at me through the fabric of my pants. Chan growled, lifting his head to send me a warning look, pushing open my legs to continue his exploration of the place where my scent was most prominent. 

I had no idea what Chan’s motivations were, and this unfamiliar territory was making my inner wolf increasingly desperate. However, I knew better than to question him, and perhaps it was nothing more than a display of strength meant to send me a warning against disobeying him. Whatever it was, I certainly liked the attention, even if it was difficult to fight the temptation to run my hands through his hair.

Eventually, Chan sat back on his heels, watching me through narrowed eyes. “Take off your clothes,” he said.

I squirmed on top of the mattress in pure delight, eager to please Chan since I knew that our argument was, more or less, finished, and he was clearly waiting to re-stake his claim. “Okay,” I replied, complying with his order as I unbuttoned my shirt and jeans, removing them with careful movements. Then, I let the bundle of clothes fall into the floor before I adjusted my position again, keeping my arms splayed out across the sheets.

Meanwhile, his eyes swept across my naked form before Chan’s evaluation continued, but this time he was undeterred by the barrier of my clothing, and everything felt heightened without them in place to stop him from attacking smooth flesh with his teeth. Nipping at the sensitive skin and leaving marks that would remain visible for days. 

His hands also made themselves comfortable on my hips, holding me in place while his mouth did most of the work, tasting my scent gland until I was light-headed from his efforts. When he pulled away to catch his breath, I recognized the oily residue from my scent gland painting his lips. It was an erotic sight, and my wolf howled in delight when she could smell our intermingling scents permeating the air around us.  

And I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Chan’s mouth until he reached down for the hem of his shirt, tossing it aside to reveal his sculpted torso - nothing but defined planes of hardened muscles. It was a beautiful distraction, and I didn’t even notice when his jeans disappeared next, leaving him in nothing but the boxer shorts that did very little to hide the evidence of his arousal. My mouth immediately started to water, and I could feel myself practically salivating at the prospect of his thick cock hiding beneath a layer of fabric.

“You have a beautiful body,” Chan said, and I beamed at his compliment. My smile didn’t last, however, when he ghosted his tongue over one of my nipples, staring up at me from a curtain of long lashes. I watched his hands as they reached out to squeeze my breasts, testing their weight with a heavy groan. “They’ll be even bigger full of milk for our pups.” 

I inhaled sharply at the mention of pups because every instinct desired nothing more than to breed with my mate. It was a result of centuries of survival genes embedded within our DNA, and our inner wolves wanted to pass them onto our children for the next generation. For most werewolf couples, they always wanted the same thing, and Chan had only spoken to me briefly about having pups in the future. But Chan was responding to his alpha’s natural inclination to breed his mate, and he growled at the back of his throat, tugging on my nipple with his fingers while his tongue prodded at the hardened peak. 

“It hurts,” I whined, even though I was aroused by his practiced tongue attempting to soothe the harsh sting of his sharpened canines.

Chan glanced up at me before pulling away to survey his work, nodding in satisfaction before moving down my body once again. I could never predict his next movement, and I gasped when he started to nose against my pubic bone, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin. This time, he could inhale my scent straight from the source, and it didn’t take long for his tongue to lick a long stripe against my slit. 

Immediately, I arched my back in response to the pleasurable sensation, closing my eyes as his hands tightened their grip on my hips and forced his tongue inside my pussy, eating me out like he couldn’t get enough of my taste. I whined at his aggression, and more of my juices collected down the inside of my thighs. Chan purred when he realized, and he slurped loudly around my clitoris, bringing the engorged bud between his teeth. 

I wrapped my fingers through his hair, making a mess of whatever style he had attempted. But it only made Chan look even more appealing, and he rumbled deep in his chest as he chased after my taste, lapping at my juices as if trying to consume every last drop. “Y/N,” Chan said, and his voice was husky and guttural.

“It feels so good,” I said, and Chan hummed around me, supporting himself higher on his arms so that I could moan at the sight of the wetness surrounding his mouth. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” Chan requested. 

I nodded, turning onto my side and trying my best to support my upper body on thin arms and trembling legs. I wasn’t surprised by Chan’s request because the position was the ultimate sign of submission, and it was most often used during heats and ruts since it was best for breeding. The thought had me shivering, dropping my head against the pillows as I felt one of Chan’s hands run down the smooth expanse of my back.

I jerked forward when he landed a quick slap to my ass, and I let him mount me, legs caging my thighs between his stronger ones, moaning when the fat head of his cock brushed against my ass. His actions were incredibly rough, and I could smell his thick alpha scent as it clouded the air with a cloying mixture of fresh pine and something much darker. But I was also surprised by my body’s compliance, allowing Chan to press against my lower back and force me into an arch. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, and I hummed in acknowledgment, groaning when he slid in without resistance, and my pussy swallowed his cock greedily, desperate to milk him of everything that he had to offer me. “What a tight pussy,” he commented, forcing himself inside the rest of the way with a slight hint of desperation. 

I moaned when I realized that he was completely buried inside my wet heat, and I could practically feel the tip of his cock against the head of my cervix. There was nothing comparable to the feeling of fullness weighing heavily on my lower body, and I curled my fingers into the sheets to stop myself from rutting back against his cock. “Chan,” I said, shaking my head as tears started to form.

“Be patient, Y/N,” Chan said, and he pulled his hips back so that just the tip of his cock remained before slamming back inside with an unprecedented amount of force. I was completely unprepared because my legs weren’t strong enough to hold me up against his vicious thrust, and I fell forward against the bed - turning my head to the side to breath as Chan continued his rapid thrusts inside of my pussy. 

“Is this what you want?” Chan growled, nipping at the back of my neck. “Do you want me to stuff you full of pups?” I whined at his words, even if I knew that it was impossible outside of my regular heats. “You’d look so good after I bred you,” Chan said, pumping his hips faster as if he was trying to make that idea a reality. “Like a good little bitch.”

I cried at his filthy language, burying my face further into the mattress as I let Chan do whatever he wanted to me, moving me along his cock like I was just a warm hole for him to use whenever the moment was convenient. “Oh god,” I whispered as he switched angles, hitting my g-spot perfectly on every upward thrust.

“Maybe if you’re swollen with my pups, you won’t get into any more trouble,” Chan snarled, and I whimpered when his hand smoothed across my lower body as if imagining the swell of my bloated stomach.

“Please,” I said, reaching down for his hand to move it closer to my clitoris, encouraging Chan to touch me while he continued to pound into me over and over again, pushing his cock deep inside to the point where I could imagine feeling him at the back of my throat.

It was an abrupt descent from there, and he continued to stimulate my g-spot and clitoris perfectly because he knew my body so well after all this time together. Still, my orgasm hit me like a freight train, and I nearly screamed at the intensity, noticing stars along the edges of my vision. There was no strength left in my body, and I collapsed into a pile of heavy limbs while Chan continued to chase his own orgasm, growling when his knot started to swell in place. I whimpered, closing my eyes because it was starting to overstimulate my exhausted body, but Chan held me in place and sighed as he filled me with his cum.

For a moment thereafter, I was convinced that I would pass out, but I was able to control my breathing and steady my accelerating heart rate, feeling Chan fall onto the bed next to me. “Hold still,” Chan rumbled, adjusting my leg over his hip as he pulled me tighter against his chest, fingers petting over the place where his knot was securely stuffed inside my sore cunt. 

“Channie,” I whined, and it was a pathetic sound resulting from the steady feeling of his cum pulsing from his engorged length and the harsh way that he handled me, like he could fix me into any position that he desired.

“Are you gonna cause me any more trouble?” Chan growled directly into my ear, and my inner wolf howled at our predicament. There was no better way for Chan to assert his dominance - locking me onto his knot in submission, and lowering the regular pitch of his voice.

“No,” I managed, stuttering around a broken moan when Chan started to grind his hips, stimulating my throbbing clitoris to the point where it actually began to feel painful.

“Maybe I should just knot you all the time like this,” Chan said. “Then you can’t wander off without telling me.”

I gasped at the suggestion, turning my head to the side to expose my neck to him. It was a vulnerable position, but it pleased Chan who started heavily scenting the mark he had left on me - a permanent reminder that I belonged to him.

It was also a visible reminder of my place in the pack, and I was determined to stand proudly next to Chan’s side.

[punkrockmads]

Found Family

Abby x F! Reader Mini Series

Warnings: Small bit of angst, violence, this chapter is a little bit longer

Chapter Four; Light Of Our Lives

*A MONTH LATER*

Abby has been such a joy to have in my life. I've moved out of the guest room and into Abby's bedroom, the two of us rapidly growing closer over the past month. We've had a couple little bickering matches over whether I should be doing patrol at three months pregnant, but that's to be expected for any couple worried for their baby. She's been a huge help with the baby, always staying by my side during my bouts of morning sickness and my occasional nightmares. We still haven't told Lev, waiting for my baby bump to get a little bigger before telling him. Lev is such a sweet kid, always energetic and happy. He and Abby are always jabbing at each other with their sarcasm and jokes. I sometimes cut in with my own teasing remarks, usually teaming up with Lev to harass Abby. The other day, Lev and I got up early just to sneak downstairs and hit Abby with pillows while she was cooking. Scrambled eggs ended up all over the floor and she made us clean it up but we all thought it was hilarious.

I sit behind Abby on our bed, braiding her soft blonde hair back as she talks.

"So we fell like a thousand feet through a glass ceiling and into a fucking swimming pool." Abby chuckles, telling me the story of the sky bridges for the twentieth time. It's one of my favorites, I'm always asking her to tell it.

"It was not a thousand feet!" Lev yells from his bedroom across the hall. Abby and I burst into a fit of laughter. "It was like ten!"

"Okay well it FELT like a thousand!" Abby yells back between laughs. "Anyways." She sighs, feeling my fingertips brush the back of her neck lightly as I continue to braid her hair. "I crawl out of the pool and lay there sprawled out on my back and Lev looks at me like I'm crazy! He's just up and ready to keep moving as if we didn't just almost die!" The two of us laugh as I use a hair tie to hold the ends of her braid together. I lean forward, placing a kiss on the back of her neck.

"All done." I mumble against her freckled skin. Abby turns around, pressing a sweet kiss on my cheek.

"Thanks, babe." Abby smiles. "You ready to head out?" Abby and I have early patrol this morning. It's rare we get assigned together since Abby is much stronger so she's usually doing assignments that put her muscles to use. Things like helping out with construction, moving heavy equipment, sometimes even helping people move furniture in and out of homes. When Abby does go outside of the base, it's for a supply run that's in a more dangerous area. That part always scares me, knowing they intentionally send her places with unknown numbers of infected. I know why they do it, though. She's more than capable of protecting herself and her group.

"Yeah." I nod. "Just gotta get my boots on." I stand up, getting ready to leave the room when Abby grabs my wrist.

"Uh, babe?" I look back at her, confused. "What's goin' on with your buttons there?" She asks, referring to my black button-up shirt. I look down, noticing two of the top buttons were missing.

"Oh!" I laugh. "So THIS is the shirt with the missing buttons!" I shrug, searching through the clothes in our closet. I find a grey sleeveless shirt hanging up on Abby's side of the closet. I glance back, seeing her making the bed. I take off my button-up, letting it fall to the floor as I take the sleeveless shirt off of its hanger and pull it on. It's a little too big, but I tuck it into my jeans and it fits a lot better. I pick up the button-up, spinning around and tossing it at Abby. It hits her in the face.

"Hey!" Abby looks over at me with a playful glare before freezing. She points at me. "Is- is that my shirt?"

"Perhaps." I grin, doing a little pose with my hands on my hips. "New fashion statement?" I chuckle. Abby walks over to me, putting her hands on my hips. She pecks my lips lightly. I place my hands over hers.

"You're such a dork." She smiles. "C'mon. We gotta get going."

"Alriiiight." I groan. Abby grabs my hand, pulling me into the hall. "Lev, don't be late for school!" I yell from the stairs.

"I'm never late!" Lev yells back.

"Literally last week!" Abby reminds him.

"Fuck you!" Lev replies as Abby and I laugh. I kneel down by the door, putting my brown leather boots on and tying the laces. Abby watches with a playful smile. I grab my dark blue backpack and bow before looking up at her.

"What?" I question, standing back up.

"Nothing." Abby shrugs. She puts a hand on my stomach. "Pretty soon you won't even be able to tie your own shoes."

"Six more months!" I sigh. "And then this little bean will be the reason we don't get a good night's sleep for years."

"I can't wait." Abby chuckles, following me out the front door. The two of us head to the main gate, spotting a few people waiting around talking with each other. "Get us signed out?" Abby asks.

"If you grab us lunch." I reply,

"Deal." Abby agrees. She lets go of my hand, walking off to the right while I continue forward to the booth. A woman with long red hair and blue eyes looks up at me.

"Oh, hey Y/N!" She greets, setting down the clipboard she was holding. "How're you doing?"

"Hey, Kayla." I smile. "I'm doing pretty great! They've got you workin' at the booth instead of the farm?" I pick up the clipboard and pen, signing my name and Abby's on the sign out sheet.

"Yep." Kayla tsks. "Shawn's sick today so I said I'd fill in. Nice break from being covered in dirt all day."

"And the booth is always shady." I shrug. "I'd say Shawn's got us beat!"

"Got that right." Kayla laughs. I jump when I feel a hand on my lower back. Kayla laughs harder. I don't even have to turn around to know who the culprit is. "Hey, Abby!" Kayla greets.

"Hey there." Abby replies, looking at me with a mischievous grin. "I'd love to stay and talk but the rest of our group is here. We gotta head out." I reach up to fix a loose strand of Abby's hair that's fallen in front of her face. She's a couple inches taller than me so I stand on my toes to make to easier.

"Be safe out there, you two!" Kayla calls as I follow Abby toward the group.

"Will do!" Abby turns around to wave back. The two of us join the rest of the group, piling into the back of a military truck and heading out to the first checkpoint where we'll all split into pairs and take separate routes.

Ten minutes later, we get to the first checkpoint, an old bar. I hop out of the truck, Abby following close behind. We get inside, everyone double checking their gear and partnering up.

"Okay." I sigh, everyone looking to me for instructions. I'm not exactly sure why, but Abby says I'm a natural born leader and that they trust my judgement. I had taken on the role as unofficial team leader without even realizing till she had pointed it out to me a few weeks ago. "Our team's covering the north routes today. The northeast route's been a little more active lately so I want four people to take that one just in case things get hairy. Any volunteers?"

"Mike and I can do it." A woman with brown hair says.

I nod. "Alright. Who's going with Mike and Bonnie?"

"We are." A man in the back says, gesturing to him and his partner.

"Okay, Mike, Bonnie, Chris, and Eric on northeast. Hayley, I want you and Moira to take north, okay?" Moira nods and Hayley holds a thumbs up. "Abby and I will take northwest. Be safe out there, guys. Be smart." With that, we all head off on our routes. Abby follows me, making sure to keep an eye on the treeline. The woods around us are full of life. Birds, deer, squirrels, insects... they all create a beautiful melody; the song of nature.

"Y'know..." Abby starts, pulling me out of my thoughts. "It's pretty hot watching you boss people around."

I scoff, kicking the dirt on the path as I walk. "I don't boss anyone around!"

Abby walks beside me, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "You so do!"

"Shut up!" I shove her playfully. She laughs, lightly shoving me back.

"You love me." She hums, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles lightly.

"I do." I hum back. We walk for a bit longer before we reach the first lookout, a gas station attached to a mechanic's garage. We sit and talk for a few minutes, writing in the sign in notebook that there were no signs of infected. After dawdling long enough, the two of us make our way to the second lookout. Ten minutes into our journey, I spot something moving in the trees.

"To our right." I whisper, both Abby and I ducking behind a bush and aiming our guns toward the movement. Just as I'm about to move up closer to try and get an angle, I hear maniacal screaming. I spin around to see a runner charging at me. I have no time to react as I'm shoved violently to the ground with the runner pinning me down, using all of my strength to keep the runner from biting me.

"Y/N!!" Abby screams. Before she can shoot the runner, a second one comes out from the trees. Abby quickly shoots that one before rushing back to my side and ripping the runner off of me. "You motherfucker!" She growls, slamming the runner to the ground and crushing his skull with her boot, the blood splattering on her and me. I lay there frozen, feeling like the wind got knocked out of me. "Shit!" Abby whisper yells. She kneels down beside me as I gasp for air. "Are you okay? Did it bite you?" She's panicking, frantically searching for any sign of injury. I grab her forearms, keeping her from moving them.

"I'm okay, Abby." I assure her when I catch my breath. "I'm okay." Abby grabs my shoulders, helping me sit up.

"Oh shit, your head is bleeding." Abby says, seeing the blood drip down the back of my neck. I feel the warm, sticky crimson flow down the back of my shirt. "We gotta get you back."

"The baby." I whisper, feeling lightheaded as Abby hands me her bag and gets in front of me, helping me onto her back. "We gotta check on the baby."

"We will, sweet girl." Abby says, walking as fast as she can while I cling to her like a little backpack. "Just hang on." I rest my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes as she carries me all the way back to the checkpoint. From there, she uses the radio to call an emergency pickup. She leaves a note for the rest of the team before helping me into the car and telling the driver to get us back as fast as possible. The car ride is a blur. I lean against Abby while she presses her jacket against the back of my head to keep me from bleeding out. I keep my hand on my stomach the whole time. Finally, we get to the infirmary. A nurse cleans me up and stitches the back of my head, giving me water and crackers to help with the dizziness. When I tell her I'm pregnant, she immediately understands my concern and checks the baby's vitals and preps me for an ultrasound.

"Ultrasound?" I ask as the nurse moves the hem of my shirt up to the edge of my bra, exposing my tiny bump. I've never heard anything like that before.

Abby takes my left hand in hers, squeezing it lightly. "It's kinda like a camera." She explains. "It's so they can see the baby. I read about it in a book." As I'm looking at her, I feel something cold and sticky being rubbed lightly on my stomach. I flinch, looking back at the nurse who is applying a clear jelly-like liquid to my stomach. Abby immediately senses my panic, leaning down to press a kiss to my temple. The bed creaks beneath her as she moves. "It's okay." She mumbles against my temple. "It's just to help the camera." I take a deep breath, sighing as I nod, letting Abby know I'm okay. I peck her lips lightly before she sits back up.

"You two make a cute couple." The nurse says, reaching for what I assume is the camera. Abby thanks her as I laugh a little. "You ready to see your baby?" I nod eagerly, Abby doing the same. The nurse presses the camera against my stomach lightly, moving it around as what looks like static appears on the camera. "There." She says finally, holding the camera in one spot. "See that little blob that's kinda shaped like a bean? That's your baby." I gasp, suddenly feeling tears running down my cheeks.

"Abby." I whisper, staring at the little being on the monitor. "Are you seeing this?" I hear Abby sniffle, looking up to see her crying, too.

"That's our baby, honey." She sniffs. I take her other hand in mine, squeezing both of them. "That's our tiny human in there." She's just as amazed as I am.

"It's perfect." I say, laughing a bit at our reactions. The nurse simply gives a proud smile.

"The baby's perfectly healthy, no sign of injuries." The nurse says. Abby and I feel immediate relief. "If you want, I can print out a picture of it for you. This old equipment still works pretty well.

"Absolutely!" Abby says, barely waiting for the nurse to finish her sentence. The nurse cleans off the gel, prints out a photo of our baby, and hands it to me before Abby and I head out to go home. The entire walk home is spent gushing over the photo, feeling like a warm, beautiful light is shining down upon us. When the two of us get home, Abby closes the door before grabbing my face and kissing me hard. My hands instinctively move to her cheeks, my eyes closing as I feel Abby's lips on mine, curving into a smile. She pulls away, leaving me breathless. "You are incredible." She says, only loud enough for me to hear. She strokes my cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. "I love you... so fucking much."

"I love you too." I whisper, pressing my forehead against hers. She kisses me again, this time gently, as if I might break if she kisses too hard. She pulls away after a few seconds, taking my hand and guiding me into the living room. I sit beside her on the couch, my legs resting across her lap and my body leaning into hers. We sit there in peaceful silence, Abby and I staring at the photo of our baby while she rubs gentle circles on my stomach with her warm hand. Just as I'm about to fall asleep, the front door opens.

[deiliamedlini]

WIP Wednesday??

IDK how long it’s been since I’ve done a WIP Wednesday mostly because I haven’t been writing anything. I’m still too busy getting used to my jobs, and being back, and grading, but I remembered it was a Wednesday today, and I plucked a scene from a story I’m hoarding and then it made me want to stop working and go write.

I posted something for this fic twice before (1 & 2), but as usual, I have done absolutely nothing with it. Also as usual, it’s not edited, and it’s really fluffy because I wanted to pour on some fluff. I regret nothing. 

Basically, the context for this one is that Zelda trains with Link every morning to learn to defend herself. She’s barely allowed to leave Hyrule Castle for her safety, but Link changes their day around to get her out for a bit. 

/

“Princess?” Link said, apparently not for the first time.

“Sorry, what?” she asked, snapping from her thoughts.

“We’re nearly there.”

“Oh, yes. Right.”

Raising an eyebrow, he wondered where her mind had been, but shook it off as he led her into a forest. She’d lost track of where they were in her haze, but when Link dismounted, she did as well.

He held his hands out to their surroundings. “Here we go.”

“You brought me to… the woods?”

“I did,” he said with a sly smirk, leading her deeper into the trees on foot.

Zelda trudged along, avoiding the thick underbrush, watching for raised roots, and the occasional stone that cropped up. Link glanced back at her often, especially when she made any noise of disapproval, but she followed, eager to see what the fuss was with this stretch of trees.

When they entered a small clearing, she saw it.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed, hurrying past Link.

The ruins of a house long since taken back by nature stood in shambles, green from moss, and tangled in vines and plants. Her hands ran along the stone foundation, solid and firm, still completely intact, leaving the distinct outline of the structure.

She followed the outside, imagining the shape until she saw a rotted fence. A yard, she figured, or maybe a garden. There were trellises that still hung, though vines had overtaken the entire thing, dangling until they nearly touched the ground.

Hopping up onto one of the stones, Zelda swung her legs around and tested the ground for structural integrity. A large part of her knew that if Link had brought her here, he’d already tested it all, so her inspection was less in-depth than it would have been otherwise. Some things still stood, like the kiln that denoted the kitchen, though flowers grew in the opening. A bird’s nest sat atop a stone wall, and Zelda giggled with pure giddiness as she inspected the surviving steps before turning back to Link.

“How did you find this?”

“Stumbled across it on patrol. I figured you’d enjoy seeing it as well. You had that book with you the other day, the one about old villages.”

She smiled, too excited to find it odd that he noticed what she’d been reading during their breaks. “Do you know who lived here?”

“I thought you might want to research that. I have a map for you, and I marked where we are.”

She was already running her hands along the stones again, making her way across the structure, imagining doorways and walls and furniture. “I can’t believe any of this is intact! Judging by the vegetation and the style, this must be about two or three hundred years old.”

“That’s… older than I expected,” Link said, finally moving closer so he could sit on the wall to watch her.

Which he was glad he did, because Zelda hoisted herself up onto a narrow stretch of the wall to get a higher vantage point; from the gleam in her eyes, he could see her desire to cross the thin stretch to reach the highest sturdy platform to stand on.

He sprung to his feet and hopped up behind her. “Princess,” he warned before she could take a step, but she didn’t pay him any mind.

Instead, she walked across, as if it were the sturdy security of the forest floor. Her foot slipped, misjudging the balance that would be required on the uneven stones, but Link had his arm around her waist, lifting her and spinning her behind him so she was off the narrow point. He didn’t say anything, but his judgmental look spoke volumes.

“What?” she countered, trying to sound haughty, though there was a tremble in her voice. That fall specifically wouldn’t have been too bad, perhaps a throbbing ankle and the sense to not try again, but she was looking to go even higher. “I just wanted to get a better look.” Wistfully looking down at her limited view, a small smile had settled on her lips.

Link was a good knight. He was respectful to his charges, tough on his trainees, a good fighter, and a rule follower. He’d gained acclaim for his skills, his dedication, his leadership, and his ability to follow. He was a perfect knight.

Most of the time.

He was also a complete fool, entranced by the softness and delight the Princess of Hyrule radiated. She hadn’t commanded him, but she might as well have with her desperately excited eyes. He could feel her invisible pull, and Link’s caution turned into a desire get her where she wanted to be.

So, he held out his hand.

Zelda turned at the movement in her peripheral vision and stared at his hand like it was glowing or possessed. “What?”

Instead of answering, he flexed his fingers, urging her to take it.

Cautious at first, she rested her palm against his, stiff and unsure. But Link closed his hand and gave her a light tug as he stepped backwards.

She followed; her eyes narrowed suspiciously until she realized that he was going to help her cross the gap to get to her view after all.

“If I fall, you’ll be beheaded by my father.”

“I won’t let you fall, for your sake and mine,” he said confidently, taking another step back, and her another forward.

Heart racing with every step, Zelda felt herself slightly off balance, trying to keep her foot entirely on the stones. She had no idea how Link was easily walking backwards, though she attempted to mimic his stance regardless, as she often did when they trained.

“Are you an acrobat?” she asked, suppressing a nervous laugh.

“No,” he chuckled, glancing back, as though she’d reminded him where they were. “This is a lot like fighting. Footwork and balance are important.”

“So we are training.”

“It seems that way,” he chuckled, taking a few more slow steps with her before gesturing for her to stop. “Do not move a muscle while I get up there, okay? No jokes this time.”

“Okay,” she said, holding her breath.

He carefully hoisted himself up onto the last ledge, testing its stability for a long stretch of time before bending down to hold his hand back out to her, apparently satisfied.

She let out her breath and grabbed him again to cross the rest of the way, wondering how she was going to get up as well.

But Link just held out his other hand, grabbing her wrist rather than her hand. “On three, jump. One, two, three!”

She jumped, feeling Link do the rest of the work as he hoisted her until he could replace his hold on her wrist with her waist. Her free arm went around his neck to help until he grabbed her by the belt to get her the rest of the way up with ease.

Their faces were close as Link kept a tight hold of her until she found her footing. “You good?” he whispered, not needing to raise his voice any higher.

“Yeah, thanks.” If she wanted to, she could lean forward just a hair’s breadth and be against his parted lips.

If she liked him at all, that is. He was still that knight who refused to let her use a sword and made her run all day.

With some effort, he helped her to turn around, though he kept her securely tucked against him. There was almost no room for them both up there anyway, and Link wasn’t going to let her lean forward in her obvious curiosity only to fall from what was clearly the former second floor and surely end up with a cracked skull or worse. As it is, he shouldn’t have let her up this high. He shouldn’t have let her walk that narrow path.

He really shouldn’t have even taken her here, telling her father that he’d planned to escort her to a small Goddess statue to pray.

He’d seen how hard Zelda was working with him in the mornings, and though she didn’t seem to think he was actually listening to her when she spoke while they jogged, he’d reasoned out enough to know that she wasn’t sleeping, instead fruitlessly praying to the Goddess. He’d seen her sagging body when she thought he wasn’t looking, and he could spot the dark circles under her eyes that she tried to cover with makeup, though she only ever ended up sweating it off.  

All he wanted was to give her a day off. And there was only one way he had been able to do that.

Lie to the King of Hyrule.

[unprofessional-bard]

Chapter 11 - The Introduction

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: Fluff, smut (just a good ol' handjob in a tub and implied smut) and a lil bit of angst/tense situations + uncomfortable talks/thoughts of pregnancy and trauma.

Summary: Unprepared for the consequences, the reader has to put up with two new arrivals, even though there's something off about them. Something more than just the shock of survival.

Word Count: 6.810

Author's Note: This chapter is set between April and July 2036, I apologise bc the reader is slowly turning into her own character, like Dolly's becoming an OC 😭 but yeah I love you all so much, thank you for reading my series 🥺💗

Enjoy!

"Well, well, what have we here."

The trio halted in their tracks as your voice echoed in the stables, your flashlight shining on them.

"Hey, Dolly," Ellie turned around, dying inside. Beside her was Cat and Jesse, turning around with pursed lips. "What'cha doin'?"

"Oh not much- patrol, you know," You said nonchalantly, walking towards them with threatening steps as you did. "Making sure people don't sneak off in the middle of the night with the horses. Kinda like what you three are doing."

"We weren't sneaking off," Jesse chuckled, but the panic in his voice gave him away easily. "We're just here to... feed the horses?"

"They're being fed regularly, you know that, so cut the crap." You spoke sternly. "Where the hell are you all off to?"

"We were just-" Ellie took over. "We're meeting with Dina. Eugene is there with her."

"What for?" You inquired. "What does Eugene have to do with whatever it is you're planning?"

They were struggling to reveal the truth, but Ellie knew better than to lie. She knew that, as long as it was the truth you wouldn't get angry; it was your thing and Ellie had noticed it from the Boston QZ, so she gave a look to Cat, whom you suspected to be Ellie's girlfriend, and she spoke: "Eugene has weed."

"Ex-cuse me?" Your eyes widened with a long blink at the three words. You weren't against it or anything, but you were just shocked- How and where in hell did Eugene find weed?

"Yeah, shit- Uh, we'll head back," Jesse mumbled.

"No it's-" You quickly recovered and fixed your posture. "How?"

"We were going to find out," Cat offered an apologetic smile.

"Christ," You chuckled. "Oh, Eugene, Eugene..." You quickly look around, a devilish smirk spreading across your face. "You know what? Go."

"Are you serious?" Ellie asked in disbelief.

"Yeah. I'm not gonna rob you bunch from your teenage years," You chuckled. "Under one condition: I'll ride with you all."

"Oh, okay," Cat grinned excitedly and proceeded to climb on a horse, Jesse mirroring her actions after he offered his thanks.

"Okay," You pointed at the rifle you had in your hands after climbing on a horse. "Let's ride quick, I'm probably gonna get in a lot of trouble as it is, so..."

"Thanks, Dolly," Ellie spoke after she settled behind Cat.

If Eugene wasn't there, you wouldn't have let them out and would've proceed to fetch anyone who was already outside. You knew they could handle themselves, but you just didn't want anything to happen to them. It had just finished raining so it was extremely dark outside. After the quiet and fast ride, you saw them off into the partly wrecked building.

"If it's legit, we'll bring you some." Jesse smirked after the girls waved goodbye and walked in.

"Go on, get!" You chuckled and shooed at him, then began riding back the way you came while ignoring the offer, which was actually quite enticing.

It was near dawn when you heard a bunch of horses riding at full speed, nearing your position. The sky was turning a bright shade of blue, and you couldn't deny the beautiful scene in front of you. The air smelled of earth and remnants of rain from a few hours ago and there were the occasional chirping of birds and a squirrel here and there - the peace however was gone the moment the horses appeared. You immediately shot up from your place to see what was going on, shoulder aching a little whenever you gripped your rifle (the bullet which had teared its way into your flesh right before your showdown with Axel, although healed for the most part, still hurt).

You let out a relieved sigh when you recognised Ellie's red hair and Eugene's white ones, then you saw Dina and Jesse, but there were two other people you didn't know riding with them. You blinked a couple of times after you lowered your rifle, then shouted down to Cedric: "Open the gate!"

You made your way down and immediately went over to Eugene and the strangers, hand on your rifle just in case: "Hey, what's going on?"

"Cedric, take them to Kat, have her take a look at their wounds," Eugene instructed and he immediately obliged. After they disappeared and the kids went to put their horses in the stables, he spoke: "We were on our way back here when we heard shouting, found this couple fighting for their lives against a dozen infected in the woods. We took them down easily and offered them help afterwards... They're a bit freaked out, but they'll be okay."

"Okay, I'll let Ma-" You suddenly stopped, realisation dawning on you. "How the hell are we gonna tell Maria?"

Eugene looked deep in thought for half a minute, then spoke: "Tell her it was me and Dina. We were patrolling anyways-"

"What about the couple?"

"We'll ask them to say it was just the two of us, and to decrease the number of infected, problem solved. Relax, will ya?"

You nodded quickly, then walked off after telling him to alert the kids about the plan.

You stopped by the infirmary first. Daisy and a new medic, Angie, were tending to them and Cedric was standing guard while Kat wasn't present. You walked up to your patrol partner and tapped his shoulder: "You can go now, I'll take over from here."

"Sure," He shrugged, yawned, then waved goodbye. You slowly approached the beds the pair were sitting on, opposite each other, the grip on your rifle strong.

"How are you two holding up?" You said awkwardly, making them look between themselves before the woman spoke.

"We'll be okay... Thanks for helping us."

"Right- sure," You sighed quietly. "Could I ask for your names?"

The young woman looked at her partner once more, as if asking for permission, then looked back at you: "I'm Kiki... This is my husband Ward."

You nodded and offered a simple nice to meet you, but didn't give your name to them. Instead, you turned to Daisy: "Let me know when you're finished."

She nodded and proceeded with her stitches before you left the room. You weren't the one to judge people right off the bat, especially in the apocalypse. A lot of newcomers (including you) came here looking bewildered and drained because they were either almost eaten by a pack of infected or murdered by bandits, simple as that.

Ward was a brunette with a dark stubble, thicker than Joel's and had short, black hair. His nose was large but suited the rest of his face just fine, with big, dark brown eyes. A scar ran over the crook of his nose down his cheek and he looked hardened, just like everyone else. Kiki, on the other hand, was also a brunette, but her features weren't as sharp as Ward's, or she was just much younger than him. She had long, black hair and her eyes matched the colour; she was also smaller than Ward, with a petite figure. She was very beautiful, too and looked frightened rather than hardened.

Around ten minutes later, Daisy walked out: "Angie's finishing up, but I'm done. I'm heading over to check on other patients, if you need me I'll be there."

"Okay," You nodded and walked back inside. The couple was neatly patched up and sitting quietly, eyes wide. When you walked in, Kiki jumped, but relaxed the same moment she saw your face. "Must've been through a lot, you two..."

"You could say that-" Kiki murmured, then looked over to Ward, who didn't seem to take notice of he conversation. There was a gash on his chin and he was squeezing the hell out of the bed sheets as Angie worked on the wound. He didn't make a single sound, but the nurse looked a little distressed. "Do you-" Kiki abruptly asked. "Do you run things around here?"

"Uh- No," You turned your head towards her, your grip on your rifle never faltering once. "No, I'm sort of responsible for the security. The boss lady will be here soon."

"Lady?" Kiki looked genuinely confused.

"Yes." You offered a simple nod. "I'm gonna ask something of you both. Don't worry, it's something simple."

Ward immediately intervened before Kiki could open her mouth: "What?"

"Relax," You warned, keeping your eye on him. "Angie, could you give us a minute?"

"Of course, I'm done anyways," She practically threw the equipments onto the small table next to the bed, took off her latex gloves, tossed them into the trash and ran out.

You gave Ward a hardened look, then spoke, walking between their beds, keeping them in your vision: "When the boss comes here, she's going to ask you a few questions... I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about the kids' being there when they found you."

"Why?" Kiki asked, worried.

"Well, they weren't supposed to be outside- Except for the girl with long, black hair and the man who brought you here. It'd save us a lot of trouble if you didn't mention them."

"So, what, you expect us to lie?" Ward huffed.

"No." You spoke coldly, rivaling his hostile tone. "I'm simply asking you to leave out the part where there were 4 kids- There was just one. Besides, she may not even ask about it."

Your staring contest with Ward ended when, as if on cue, Maria, Tommy and Eugene entered the room. You saw the fright in Kiki's eyes, so you spoke calmly: "Hey, it's okay. That's her, the boss lady- and her husband."

"Boss lady?" Tommy chuckled and stood next to you, Maria and Eugene mirroring him.

"It's okay," Maria spoke: "We got this, you can go now."

You nodded once and reluctantly walked out from the room. Stepping outside the infirmary, you came across Cedric waiting by the entrance. You shook your head towards the gates with a simple: "Let's go."

Cedric was almost 15 years younger than you, had even younger features than someone would have in their 30s. He had chin length, dirty blonde hair with hazel eyes fleeing to green. He was a calm and collected person, unlike most people in Jackson. Your tactics and strategical thinking were similar, which made patrol much more effective and easy.

Both of your shifts ended around two hours later, when the sun was up completely and shining down on the streets, calling people to duty; it was, however, your call to hit the bed. After turning over your weapons and heading your separate ways with Cedric, you walked over to your house, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of seeing Joel.

You hadn't seen each other in almost three days due to different shifts but, with the weekend off, you could finally rest in your husband's arms.

You quietly entered the house and tiptoed up the stairs. The bedroom door was closed, he was obviously still asleep. Normally, he'd be awake by 7AM, but lately he'd been really hard on himself with patrols- it was only right he treated himself to a few extra hours of sleep. You really wanted to crawl next to him, or just take a small peak inside the room to see him, but you knew better. He awoke to the slightest creak of the bed when you got up, or simply turned to drink some water. You wanted him to rest though, that came first, so you used the bathroom outside your room to get cleaned up, then moved into the bathtub to treat yourself. It had been a while since you let your muscles rest and relax in the deliciously hot water.

Not even five minutes later after you settled in the warmth, you heard the slow opening of the door. You opened your eyes to find Joel with nothing but his boxer briefs on, heart beating with ecstasy and joy at seeing him in his sleepy state: "Hey," You giggled. "Morning handsome."

"Mornin' baby," He rubbed the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?" He smirked as he proceeded to take off his underwear.

"Probably not," You smiled apologetically, he'd quite possibly woken to the sound of the water filling. You extended both of your arms to him, calling him to your embrace while stretching and yawning: "Come here, I missed you."

The words made Joel stop in his tracks for a short moment, heart wearming at them, then walked over to the tub with his naked glory: "Scoot."

You simply leaned back and parted your legs, offering him to lay against you. He obliged, got in and sat, making the water level rise when he laid down against your chest. Your left arm rested on his chest, partly hugging him, while your right hand went through his hair. You gave him a kiss on his neck, a lovely kiss which made him sigh contentedly: "M-hm, I missed you too. Missed this..."

You wanted to stay like that forever: Caressing his hair and the occasional, soft kisses against his jaw, cheek and neck which made his heart melt. You could sense that this small gesture made him very happy, which in turn made you hug him tightly.

"What do you say we..." You purred into his ear. "Ditch the dinner plans for tonight, hm?"

His eyes were closed when he spoke: "Why? Got somethin' else in that pretty little mind of yours?"

"Yeah," You confirmed, running your hand up and down his chest. "We could do something, just the two of us."

"Like...?"

"Hmm, like movie night? Or you can play me something?"

"Only if you sing." He grinned.

"Nope, scratch that," You chuckled and shifted under him a little. "Or we can just... You know, fuck." He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness. "What? You don't want to?"

"I didn't say that," He turned a little and looked up into your eyes with a brilliant smile. "I'd love nothing more, actually, but these are Jesse's parents." You sighed, disappointed, saying I know, I know. "We have two days to ourselves, (Y/N)- You can have me all to yourself, except for a few hours."

"Fine," You growled jokingly, smiled and kissed his lips softly.

What was intended to be a simple kiss now slowly moved in the direction of a filthy make-out session, his tongue parting your lips with ease and meeting yours. Joel grabbed your calf and caressed it slowly, while you took advantage of his distraction and sneaked a hand down his abdomen.

You shifted a little more to the side and took his cock in hand, which made him sigh and drop his head on your shoulder: "(Y/N)..."

"Hmm?" You hummed with a smile when your thumb pressed on his slit, making him hiss and become harder. "Let me take care of you, huh?"

You watched Joel's brows drawing together when you slowly started to pump him. You kissed the pulse on his neck, then moved down to his collarbone. His grip on your leg was more solid the firmer you worked his length, and he jumped ever so slightly when you bit down on his collarbone. His erection grew bigger by the second all the while you sucked and bit a small hickey on his skin.

"Shit..." He shifted in the water, pulling himself upwards so that you didn't have trouble reaching for his shaft.

"You want me to go faster?" You whispered and kissed his shoulder. He nodded but didn't speak and let you work your magic.

You picked up pace, flicking your wrist and focusing on the underside of his head, making him groan broken, unclear profanities. After a while, you felt him tense under your touch, his breathing turning a little laboured.

"(Y/N)..." He sighed through gritted teeth, letting you have your way with him.

"That's it..." You cooed and continued kissing him. Soon, he let out a loud groan and came, making you moan quietly.

Seeing Joel like this -relaxed and euphoric- was always a treat, moments like this where it was just the two of you; no infected, no survival, no bullshit from tha past. You were aware of how it was a luxury to do the things you were able to do: Taking a hot bath, finding someone you loved and marrying them, sleeping on a bed with clean sheets without worrying if infected or bandits were going to jump you.

You were grateful, you were reminded of this everyday, but it took its toll on you, too.

A lot of people, innocent kids were out there, suffering- dying, surviving... You wished you had the power to help them all and rebuild, but you were aware of how dangerous it was out there. It was simply too risky to leave Jackson. You weren't some superhero, after all.

Not a hero...

"What's got you thinkin'?" Joel snapped you out of your thoughts, his fingers ever so gently tracing your cheekbone as you laid on the bed across each other. It was night-time, after dinner with Jesse and his parents and, of course, a round of much needed love making. You both were a little sleepy, definitely content with sweat covering your bodies like a thin layer of blanket.

You looked into his eyes from where your head was -which was on the crook of your elbow, resting on your pillow- and gave him a phantom of a smile, nodding slightly: "Nothing in particular. You?"

"You," He smiled, which made you chuckle. Convincing Joel that you were absolutely, 100% okay was getting trickier as he'd spent just enough time to sense a depressive episode's approach; you didn't want to burden him with your self-doubt and self-loathing, as you hated it when his mood shifted for the worse because of you. "Wonderin' what goes on in that head of yours."

"Wish I knew that myself," You grabbed his hand which was tracing the left side of your face, then turned the back of it for a kiss.

You knew, though. While you and Joel were helping with the dishes in the kitchen, Jesse's mother, Robin had asked if you were planning on having any children. The question you'd been dying to avoid had finally been asked, which made you drop the plate you had in your hand into the sink. It truly was an off-guard moment for you, which startled Joel, but luckily the topic was never brought up again after the plate in question shattered into pieces. You weren't sure if you wanted a child, not after the incident with Miles.

The moment when the contents of his skull splattering onto the ground while he was in your arms- under your supervision haunted you day and night. You never talked about it to anyone, and no one had asked, but it only intensified after your wedding. Because you knew what people had in their minds: Will we be seeing a Joel or Dolly Jr. running around?

You were fucking old, too, and so was Joel. Even if you didn't know whether you'd be able to carry due to that, there was no point in risking it either way, since I clearly suck at watching over kids.

"I think you do," He pushed himself closer to you and sneaked the hand against your mouth onto your waist, propping his arm up and putting his head against the palm of the other. "You just don't wanna talk about it. Which is okay, y'know." You nodded, smile growing a bit wider. "We've been over this before, but If you ever feel like- y'know... you're borin' me or something-"

"I know," You offered a full smile, pushing your thoughts away at the best of your ability. "I see you, Joel Miller," You then put a hand against his chest, where his heart should be: "I know you, you know me... You know what I think?"

He gave you a curious look, but it got replaced with something that hinted excitement when you ever so slowly pushed him on his back with the hand on his chest, then straddled his hips. Joel chuckled: "How is it that you still have this much energy after only four hours of sleep?"

The sleep in question took place after the 'mingling' in the bath. Warm April breeze, even warmer covers and warmest above all, Joel's body pressed against yours, both of your hairs wet and drying on their own as you slept in your lovers arms. He woke up after an hour or so, lingered there for awhile, just enjoying your presence by his side; he then quietly left you to sleep- lord knows you needed it.

"You're just getting old, baby," You giggled and leaned down to kiss him, his hands immediately going to your hips. "Not complaining, though."

An uneventful few weeks passed as Jackson entered the first week of June. Two losses in the town, but no new arrivals after Katie- Kiki and Ward. No raids as well, so overall it was calm.

After reporting in about the week in general, one evening, Maria asked you to stay behind: "It's time for Ward and Katie to go through the test," She declared. "We gotta see if they're fit for patrol or not."

"You got it. When?"

"Tomorrow. I already notified them, we'll meet at the northern training post-"

"We who?" You ran a hand through your hair.

"You and me. Robert and Eugene were supposed to be there originally, but they'll be off hunting." She explained and you nodded. Without further ado, you walked out and made your way back home.

The next morning, Joel accompanied you to the training post. Normally it was your day off with him, but training awaited. The weather was particularly hot for an early morning, so it came to you as a little shock when you saw Kiki, who was wearing a rather thick looking blouse. You didn't question it of course, but it made you think.

"Alright," You cleared your throat, after a quick greeting, stepping into the open training area. Joel and Maria remained inside, arranging the medical needs list while keeping an eye on you three. "I'm gonna put you two through a little test. Maria tells me you decided to stay here in Jackson, so we need to decide which duties you're fit for."

Ward remained incredibly still while Kiki nodded. Her hands were resting between her knees, while Ward had his arms crossed. They were sitting on a bench under the shade: "It's going to get a little physical, but I assure you I'm not going to hurt either of you." You turned around and walked over to the middle of the area: "Right, let's start with you, Kiki."

She gave a panicked look to Ward, but he just nodded with a thoughtful frown, rather than a permitting glare. Over the weeks they had been in Jackson, people sort of got used to their non-verbal interactions, even though some people found it suspicious. She got up and made her way over to you and, by the look on her face, regretted her outfit of choice as she tried to loosen the collar.

"If you want to stop- at any moment, let me know," You reassured her. She nodded, went to roll her sleeves up, but stopped immediately. You acted like you didn't see it, then proceeded to get in stance and lift your hands up: "Okay, let's start with something simple. Show me your stance."

She gave you a blank stare: "My what?"

"Your... stance, you know, fighting stance?"

"I don't have one," She simply shrugged.

"Okay," You sighed quietly. "Then show me how you punch."

She threw what could've been a proper punch but it was weak, you immediately caught her fist in your palm. She panicked and pulled back, and you immediately let go. You glanced at Ward, who seemed to be on high alert.

"Again," You got into stance and she obliged, throwing another weak punch your way. Her stance was there, actually, and her punches came through like she knew what she was doing, but the impact wasn't effective.

It went on a couple more punches, which you caught in your hand each time, until she spoke: "Why do you do that?"

"What?" You lowered your hands.

"You keep holding my hands," It was as if she was more annoyed than confused. "Can you not do that?"

"It's a reflex-" You explained, glanced at Ward again, then looked back at her. "I do it with everyone I train, but if you don't want me to then it's fine."

Not everyone, only the ones with punches as slow, weak and predictable as hers.

"Okay, now let's try some... combos," You added and got in a more secure stance. "Throw one punch after another. Fast and hard. Don't hold back."

"I'm not holding back," She grunted and did a typical boxing combo, which, generally, only people trained in boxing knew- but her punches were still weak. You remained quiet and let her go at it for a few rounds.

You suddenly took a step back, raised your hand up to the same level as your face and spoke: "Kick."

Instead, she went to kick you between your legs. A rush of panic and years of reflexes kicked in and you caught her feet between your knees. You looked up with a what the fuck was that? expression on your face and waved your hand in the air: "I meant here."

"We're fighting, right? We need to be unpredictable," She said with a tone of... irritation? Was she snickering?

"Do I look like a bandit to you?" You let go of her leg, giving her a displeased look.

"You did say you wanted to see what we were capable of."

Where was this sudden confidence coming from all of a sudden?

She was always a little weird with you. Not that you saw her too often but the moments when you two were together, one minute she'd look like she wanted to be your friend (which was when Joel was around), other times she'd remind you of a cruel, rank-wise superior back in the Boston QZ (which was when Joel wasn't around).

You gave her a hard look: "Alright. Let's see how you're gonna do when someone's actually fighting you, then."

Her expression went from somewhat cocky to seriousness as you took a few steps foward and towered over her. Your instructions were simple and clear when you spoke: "I'm gonna put you in a lock. Wriggle out of it."

You slowly grabbed her wrist, giving her time to get ready and process what you were doing. Then, you twisted her arm carefully around her waist and turned her around, pressing her arm on her back, only for her to suddenly squeal: "Okay! Enough!"

You quickly took a step back, startled at her reaction, you weren't even applying the slightest pressure. Ward suddenly shot up from where he was sitting and yelled: "What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything!" You frowned.

"It's okay!" Kiki suddenly stepped in front of Ward who was advancing your way. "I panicked, she didn't-"

"Woah there," You suddenly heard Joel and Maria approach the field. Confusion was superior to your anger at that moment: Had you really hurt her?

"Calm down," Maria put her hands on her hips. "She specifically warned you that she wouldn't hurt you under any circumstances. Relax."

You gave Maria a grateful look as he defended you: "I didn't even apply pressure- Look, no one's here to hurt you on purpose."

Ward and Kiki stared into each other's eyes, and by all means it was not a romantic moment, then the bigger of the two finally groaned: "I think she's had enough. For today."

"You think?" You unintentionally slipped it out, but the companions by your side seemed to agree with what you were getting at. "Do you want to stop Kiki?"

"Um," She looked at the three of you, chewing on her bottom lip, then answered quietly after a tense moment of silence: "Yeah, I think I should stop."

"Fine," You said, trying to keep your voice as netural as possible. "Let's continue with you then, Ward." Before anyone could say anything, you and the man you challenged found yourselves back on the middle of the combat area. "Show me your stance and let's begin."

He did as you asked but didn't wait for you to size him up, throwing a punch into your palm as soon as you lifted it, startling your audience. That didn't stop either of you from starting off with a much quicker and a harsher routine, which seemed to have everyone on edge.

You didn't counter once, but it was as if he was forcing you out of the defensive with his strikes, not to mention he was forcing you to step out of the area.

"What the hell's goin' on?" Tommy half jogged over to where the three were standing, watching you two roll from a snowball into an avalanche. Ward was grunting with each hit missed, anger taking over his features, while you kept your cool. It was as if he was riling himself up because he couldn't land a punch - his aim was messy and unstable, which was nothing compared to your years of disciplinary training.

"Okay, I think you've proved your point, Ward." Maria spoke loudly after Tommy's sudden entrance, but he didn't seem to hear her.

"I agree," You grunted and dodged a rather heavy looking punch, rolled over behind him and got up immediately; before you could say anything else, thinking he had stopped, you momentarily let your guard down. Everybody seemed to have thought the same, but what none of you saw coming was the exceptionally hard blow on your nose.

"What the fuck?!" You heard someone, weren't sure who, yell as you saw a blur of people rushing toward you when you stumbled backwards, hands wrapping around your possibly broken nose with a brief shout.

Giving into your anger, before anyone can get a grip of what you were doing, you launched yourself at Ward: "Son of a-" You grabbed the collar of his shirt and headbutted him: "Bitch!"

It was beyond everyone just how fast you had moved, broke his nose with an equally strong strike and had him falling on his arse. Kiki rushed to his husband's side, Maria to yours while Tommy kept Joel from ripping Ward to shreds. You were sure you were going to pass out when Maria got a hold of you, feeling as if you were under water with the blurring of your vision and hearing. The adrenaline rush in your veins kept you from losing consciousness, though.

"(Y/N)?" Maria's voice got clearer each passing second as you chased the lingering faint away from your mind, finally opening your eyes completely to see a displeased face. "(Y/N) are you okay?"

"Yeah," You sighed, whipping your hands in the air around your waist to shake off the droplets of blood from your bleeding nose as best as you could, tears at the corners of your eyes. "Just fine and dandy."

You felt the familiar, calloused hands of Joel gently hold your elbows as Maria turned around to see to Ward: "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Joel," You nodded and wiped the blood on your white t-shirt in a pissed, exhausted manner.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You heard Maria growl at Ward, who was still shaken and sitting on the ground, face looking about the same as yours. "You can't just come up and punch people because you got angry at them! This is Jackson: You're not outside, and she isn't your enemy."

"It's okay- I'm sorry Maria- He's a little, uh," Kiki whined on her knees where she had knelt, but went quiet when he looked behind her to see you and Joel.

"You're not his mother, Katie," The blonde spoke, more calm now but no less strict. "He can speak for himself, and the same goes for you."

There was an intense moment between the three, while Tommy nodded at what Maria had said, his hands on his hips, looking at them disapprovingly: "Alright, c'mon, let's get you to a doc."

Joel in the meanwhile, like a mother duck, studied your nose and held a piece of cloth against the bleeding. He kept you focused on him while Maria and Tommy handled the other couple: "Fuckin' bastard..."

You chuckled at the way he grumbled as he wiped the blood off your nose gently: "Got what he was asking for though, don't go around wanting to kick his ass."

"Yeah, that was a pretty damn good hit..." He spoke, but his voice faded into the background when you curiously looked over to see what was going on, only to come across Kiki's face first things first. What you saw on her face sent a shiver down your spine.

Anger.

Not because you hurt Ward though, no. It was more than that.

It was jealousy.

You knew both because you had spent enough time with her to understand what that look meant, and her expression wasn't hard: It was soft, a certain yearning spread across her features as her eyes went back and forth between you and Joel. You couldn't tell what irked you the most: The way she looked at you, or him. You seemed to add more to her anger, while when she stared at your husband (and stared at him longer), there was longing and confusion.

The moment you made eye contact, she immediately turned around and scurried off, leaving you two and Maria alone.

"Hm? Dolly?" You heard Joel again once you brushed off the odd stare you got from Kiki.

"What?" You gave him a puzzled look.

"I asked if you wanted to have this looked at," He repeated in a soft voice. Most of the time, with small scratches or wounds which didn't need stitches or weren't cut too deep to get an infection or anything, you preferred handling it on your own to not waste the town's medical supplies.

"No, I got it," You nodded quickly and took a step back, feeling your nose while Maria approached you both.

"What the hell was that, (Y/N)?" She had her hands on her hips as well.

"I don't know, Maria," You emphasised each word, making your discomfort and irritation show. "...I have a few ideas though."

You moved inside, away from the burning sun and began discussing your first impression.

"So, what do you think?" Maria asked from behind her desk. Two pairs of eyes watched you quietly as you sat up on your chair, still holding the cloth up to your nose.

"Well, they're definitely not military, I can tell you that much. They don't know the first thing about combat - Kiki doesn't, anyway." Something's not right with them, you wanted to say, but decided to keep it to yourself for the time being and continued: "She's weak, can't even throw a punch. Almost lost her shit when I put her into that lock- I couldn't even put her into the lock, she just screamed."

"Yeah, what was up with that?" Maria asked but didn't demand an answer, it was more like a rhetorical question. You explained how she also went out of the training routine and tried to kick you, but again, it was weak.

"It's actually not that she's weak, but more like she's holding back," You said thoughtfully after a moment of silence.

"How do you mean?" Joel spoke for the first time.

"I mean, you can feel that she's holding back on purpose." Much as you hated your years in FEDRA, your experience with training and being trained came in handy on a daily basis - as much as you hated it, you were also grateful. "While Ward, on the other hand," You shifted in your seat, annoyed, "Fights like a feral beast, and I can tell that wasn't his full potential."

Joel growled quietly and crossed his arms. You then continued with your observation: "I don't want to be too quick on my judgement, but there's something not right with them."

Tommy walked in at that moment: "Well, that was a shit show."

"What happened?"

"They argued the whole way," Tommy sighed and pulled a chair between you and Joel, then sat exactly the same way his brother was sitting. "It was... weird is one way to put it."

"Let's keep them under supervision for awhile," You offered.

"You're volunteering?" Maria raised a brow.

"Hell no, not after that anyway. My existence would just antagonise them."

"What are you suggestin'?" Tommy turned to you.

"Put them through another training session with Walt, he'll know what I'm talking about... And Eugene found them, so maybe he'll be up for the task."

A moment of quiet and glances were exchanged among the family, then Maria cleared her throat: "Fine, we'll see what the other's think of that and vote for it."

"Okay. Now if you'll excuse me..." You murmured and got up, walking out of the room absentmindedly, deep in thought. A headache settled to the front of your head and you felt fatigue take over as soon as you stepped outside, while you left the other Millers confused.

"Hey," You heard Joel's soft voice from behind you not much later, which made you stop in your place and turn around. You gave him a blank stare, the cloth holding hand dropping to your side to reveal the smeared, dried blood around your nose. Without any rush, he walked over to you with a worried look and stood right in front of you.

After gazing into each other's eyes fro a while, Joel no doubt searching yours to understand what was going on and you just finding comfort in his, he slowly took your empty hand in his. With a soft tilt of his head in the direction of your house, you blinked once in acknowledgement and started walking with him.

Your anger and irritation started dissipating the more you walked like that, hand in hand and in silence, but your headache and slowly worsening mood, the taste of blood on your tongue remained. Not many words needed to be said with Joel, he knew what you needed by just one look. You were sure if Kurt saw you like that, he would laugh until his lungs couldn't take it: Look at you! Although the thought made your heart warm, it wasn't enough to lift the corners of your lips. You unconsciously held onto Joel's hand tighter as you walked to your house, and he returned the gesture, a simple gesture- an assurance that let you know he had you.

Once you stepped inside and he closed the door while you stood in the hallway, he walked up to you and held your shoulders and gave you a soft, still concerned look. You looked up at him with a soft sigh through your nose some seconds later, and finally spoke: "I'm gonna... I'm gonna go lay down a little."

"Okay," Joel gave you a reassuring smile and placed a kiss on your forehead. "You let me know if you need anything."

"Of course," You smiled back, a lifeless, small but an equally reassuring smile. Joel watched you climb up the stairs slowly, thinking about how long it would take you to feel better while also thinking of how he could make you feel at ease during the time.

His fears were similar to yours: He didn't want you to feel responsible or upset because of his own self-doubt and self-loathing, and he hated having you show all the effort to make him feel better about himself, about the things he had done. You kept assuring him that that was what being partners was all about, that you do what you do for him gladly and would continue doing it for as long as you were able (which meant as long as you were alive). He was glad to have you by his side, but of course didn't rely on you as if you were a rehabilitation centre, and it went both ways.

While thinking about all of this, with a cup of coffee in hand and sitting on his porch, his ears perked up at the round of laughter coming from behind the house. It was then, when he came up with a plan to make you feel better, even in the slightest.

Ellie.

—————

tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Three: Chapter Eleven

(AO3 counterpart here.)

The silence continued into the dawn. No one got much sleep after Littlepaw’s vision. They were all afraid that they would be next.

Laurelclaw tried his best to stay positive, he really did. He pulled up as many hopeful, happy thoughts as he could while standing guard outside of Littlepaw’s den, ready to jump in and shake her out of another nightmare at the drop of a feather. Flyfang had tried to tell him to rest, but there was a silent understanding between the two that neither of them was going to sleep again when Littlepaw was at risk of falling back into whatever horrible space she had been in. Flyfang had conceded and gone into the den to be closer to her half-apprentice. When Laurelclaw glanced in occasionally, she was curled around Littlepaw’s tightly balled-up body, watching her with exhausted fear. He couldn’t blame her.

It wasn’t just that which made him fail to keep a happy image in his head. All of his happy images were of his family, the Plage – his mother, father, goofy deputy and snarky former mentor, among all the others, walking together, sharing jokes, watching the waves of the ocean rear and collapse, stretching their foam as far as it could go up the beach. The sense of companionship and confidence. Security in their strength as they stood together.

All of it suddenly felt so pointless, in the grand scheme of things. So temporary.

Laurelclaw fought against the dread that came with every reminder that his family was not going to a happy afterlife. He failed to keep it down. It soaked into his chest and stomach, sticking against the walls of his insides, making him sick. He shivered with nausea many times throughout the night.

The sun barely made it through the thick canopy above the makeshift camp. Laurelclaw hardly noticed it was daylight until Flyfang emerged from the den and shook out her fur. She wordlessly went off into the woods, tail dragging on the ground after her.

Everyone was awake and outside, sitting uncomfortably in silence, before Flyfang returned, carrying prey. Beetlefoot went with her to retrieve everything else she had caught, but there were still no words exchanged. They all formed a ring again and picked listlessly at their meals, nibbling without tasting.

Laurelclaw was absorbed in his own thoughts, but the tension eventually became too much to ignore. He followed his urge to say something.

“You know…” he started, and winced when everyone looked at him like he had shouted. “Imagining everyone’s reaction to all of this, it’s… it can be a little funny, I think.”

Silence. Every face was baffled. Laurelclaw internally berated himself and tried again.  

“It’s just me thinking about my mom, really,” he said while fighting off shakiness in his voice. “She’d- she would want to go to sleep and find StarClan and fight it to the death herself. She’d leap at the opportunity. But my dad, he’d run. He’d take the entire family with him – the whole Clan, probably – and flee as far as he could go. He was always a little timid like that.”

The silence calmed a little. Laurelclaw could see the others considering their own families.

“I think…” Flyfang’s eyes lifted up towards the treetops, contemplating. “I think the Marish would panic. My sisters, maybe they wouldn’t get it. They’d think it’s some monster from a story, something easy to beat on your way to becoming a hero. It’d be exciting for them.” Her voice lowered a little, tightened. “I’d prefer for them to think of it that way.”

Surprisingly, Beetlefoot spoke next. “I know the Fleet would all follow Redheart’s idea to get the entire Clan out of the Territory, if they could. Though everyone where I was born is… rather traditional. They prefer the aspects. But they still cling to them going to StarClan for their ‘good behavior’ and ‘righteous worship’. If they knew that all their praying and piousness meant nothing, they might just fling themselves into the river. Leap into the mouth of the beast. Get it over with as soon as possible.”

Laurelclaw looked at Beetlefoot, a little startled. It was the most he had ever said about himself. That tiny, weak cynicism in him remarked wryly about how of course it was unhappy and dour, coming from Beetlefoot. He told that part to hush and be nice.

“My mom wouldn’t believe it,” Littlepaw said, a bit muted and flat. She wasn’t looking at anyone. “She’d find every excuse under the sun to reason it away as a mistake or a lie.”

“Hard thing to convince anyone about,” Mistface said.

Laurelclaw couldn’t help some desperation in his voice. “Isn’t there anything we can do? We could warn everyone, right? Spread the word?”

Redheart sighed, more in a world-weary way than in annoyance with him (thankfully). “I’ve wanted to run around the Territory and tell everyone the truth so many times, Laurelclaw. But the Runagate’s been doing that for generations now, and they’ve barely gotten anywhere. We’re not the first ones to know about StarClan. We probably won’t be the last.”

“I don’t know how much we could do, anyway,” Greyleaf said. His claws were deeply sunk into the soft ground. “Who would believe a deputy on the run, and who would believe a healer, of all cats?”

“But Littlepaw-“ started Laurelclaw, but Redheart shook her head.

“She’s not a seer anymore,” she said. “And so many of our actual seers are fooled, StarClan can easily lie to them and call us insane. Littlepaw got lucky with the Runagate visiting her and StarClan trying to talk to her again, it seems.”

“‘Lucky’ is a real subjective word,” Mistface remarked. “Ain’t sure how lucky it is to see what y’all see.”

“About as lucky as bearing witness to a murder when no one else was around, I suppose,” Beetlefoot said darkly.

“You aren’t wrong.” Greyleaf looked down at his paws and carefully retracted his claws, grimacing. “It’s a stroke of incredible fortune that any of you believed us to begin with. I mean…” He looked to his brother. “You didn’t at first, right? Even you?”

Mistface gave him a non-smile. “Thought you might’ve been crazy for a minute, yes.”

“And he’s my brother.” Greyleaf turned back to everyone else. “The thing is that, yeah, you all believed us, but you’re a smaller group with at least relatively open minds, and it still took a second to win you over. Telling a much larger crowd, or a couple of strangers you’ve never spoken to before, that’s going to be a lot harder to convince.”

“That’s the trouble with all of us,” Darkpelt said suddenly. “I’ve noticed it in my line of work. Cats like to follow along with the crowd because it makes us feel more secure, like somehow more cats means more logical thinking and correct choices. And we cling to any line of security we can get. If you were told a horrible truth, and someone in your group said ‘that’s nonsense!’, you’d be inclined to believe them. It’s safer for your sanity.”

“Then how did we all believe it?” Flyfang, despite her words, did not sound argumentative. She looked more puzzled than anything.

Darkpelt shifted to tuck her front paws underneath her chest and she shut her eyes. Her tone became contemplative. “For me, at least, it just makes sense. I’ve always believed that nothing is impossible, given how real StarClan seemed all my life. And the connections between Redheart and Greyleaf, especially the nightmares, made me far too curious to just pass them off as insane and leave it at that.” She opened her eyes and turned her head in Flyfang’s direction. “Like I said the other day, they have a completely bonkers story that no one would expect to be believed, except a nutter. But a nutter wouldn’t also have the story make sense if one stops to think about the logistics of it.”

“And you believed based on that?” Mistface asked, eyes half-closed as he regarded her doubtfully. 

“Better reason than just a blood connection,” Darkpelt said, with a jaunty nod at him. “You’d believe Greyleaf if he told you he was Derecho in physical form.”

Mistface, surprisingly, did not react with his usual flat irritation. Rather, he looked amused. “It’d make more sense for him to be Gelid, with everything about Gelid’s inevitability, relating to what we know now.”

“You’d make a better Gelid than me,” Greyleaf said.

“Or Brume,” Beetlefoot muttered. “Slow and fluffy as you are.”

Mistface gave a breathy laugh, and with that the air of the ring loosened and relaxed. Appetites returned, everyone now eating properly and with a little more enjoyment of their food. It was quiet again for a while, until Beetlefoot spoke up, almost quiet enough that Laurelclaw didn't hear him.

“You know, Brume and Gelid used to be the same aspect,” he murmured.

Littlepaw perked up immediately. “I thought I heard something like that when I was a kit. Who were they?”

Speaking a little louder and, rather nicely, almost friendlier, Beetlefoot looked at Littlepaw. “They were called Rime. He was the aspect of ice and fog, once. He split into two a long time ago. The Brae still pray to him, though, as if he hasn’t been halved.”

“That doesn’t make much sense,” Flyfang said. “How could he still exist and be two different aspects at the same time?”

“Nothing the Brae do makes sense.” Beetlefoot shook his head. “They’re reclusive idiots.”

“Sounds like the Marish,” Flyfang said, almost nostalgically. “I had to peal out of there when they had their backs turned. They don’t want anyone leaving or coming in.”

Mistface swallowed a mouse tail. “Y’all got more problems in your families than they’re worth, if you ask me.”

“Your brother is on the run because he’s immune to a monster's visions,” Flyfang said, giving him a sarcastic head tilt. “Don’t you talk on family.”

“He’s kind of right, though,” Laurelclaw offered. “I love the Plage, but they can be a lot to handle. They all keep pushing me to be a patroller in the Fleet.”

Littlepaw lifted a paw to hide a smile. “They’ve met you, right?”

“I say the same thing.” Laurelclaw sighed a bit dramatically, for humor’s sake. “I’m just good at taking hits, that’s all.”

“You would not be a good patroller,” said Beetlefoot. “They’re all eager for a fight.” He paused, considering. “Though you cut an intimidating enough figure. You do have a chip in your ear.”

Laurelclaw lowered his head, a little embarrassed. “That was just an accident in my assessment.”

Littlepaw could not hide her smile now. “Have you been in a single real fight at all?”

“…No.” Laurelclaw’s ears (including the chipped one) started to burn, but Littlepaw’s laugh - quiet and small, but genuine - cooled them down again. Flyfang shook her head in mock disappointment. Even Redheart smiled.

There was a lull in the conversation again, but it was nice now – Laurelclaw could see everyone’s relief at the lightening of the mood as they exchanged friendly glances or started grooming their fur. Mistface and Greyleaf were talking in low voices to each other, and Greyleaf seemed calm for once.

“AH!”

A collective jump and the crew all looked at Darkpelt. She had shot up into a sitting position, her eyes huge even compared to her normal wide-eyed blind stare. Her tail stood straight up, fur sticking out like a fox’s.

“Something wrong?” Flyfang ventured when nothing was said.

“StarClan’s visions.” Darkpelt’s head twisted this way and that, like she was seeing something they couldn’t. “Greyleaf has been immune to them his whole life, and Littlepaw can see through the veil. ‘Through the veil’.” Her head turned in Redheart’s direction. “That’s what the Runagate told you. That was the specific wording.”

Redheart haltingly answered, confused. “It was, yes.”

“Littlepaw, Greyleaf, neither of you believe anymore, if you ever did.” Darkpelt looked between them. “As soon as you knew the truth, StarClan couldn’t work its magic on you.”

Littlepaw’s face fell. She seemed to be recalling the memory of her nightmare. “Yes. The field I always see was dead, and then it fell apart.”

“Is there a point to this?” Beetlefoot's head was craned a bit forward and his eyes were narrowed like Darkpelt’s were whenever she was concentrating.

“I don’t know yet.” Darkpelt lowered herself down again. “But it’s important. I can feel that. We have the veil and the knowledge of immunity. That’s all based on belief.” She squinted hard. “Belief. That’s going to be a factor. Keep that in your heads, everyone. We’re going to need to think.”

Laurelclaw didn’t know what to say. Thinking was not his strong suite to begin with, but this incredibly vague command to 'keep belief in his head' was already beyond him.

“Um…” He tilted his head, forgetting for a moment that Darkpelt couldn’t see him. “What does that factor into?”

“Haven’t the faintest,” Darkpelt said. “We’ll just have to wrack our noggins and see. Think hard, everyone. Think harder than you’ve ever thought in your lives. Our home and Clan depend on it.”

Redheart regarded Darkpelt with some puzzlement, but eventually she gave a small sigh. “We can do that. I hope this is going somewhere.”

“It is.” For the first time since they’d left the Clast, Darkpelt smiled broadly. “I promise.”

[raleighcarrera]

limits

the wayhaven chronicles | mason x mc (kira langford)

mason has a realization.

m tag list: @raleighcarrera @choicesarehard @tkyoon @zigtheeortega 💕

~5.6k words | M (18+)

the thing about fucking her is that one time is supposed to be enough.

it’s not like he’s got a rule or anything -- he doesn’t. sure, most of his flings are just that: one night stands he can fade away from gracefully, who understand what he’s about and take what they can get.

necessity or scarcity means that he’ll occasionally come back for seconds or thirds, and maybe he can convince himself that’s the case, here. wayhaven is a small town, with few prospects, and he spends so much time with kira anyway. maybe it’s just the reality of the situation -- the assignment -- that has him double-dipping.

it’s not, though.

it’s her. usually, even a spectacular fuck only lingers in his mind for so long. there’s no use dwelling when there’s always the next partner, a new chase or some other way to spend his time on the horizon.

but the detective stays in his memories after he sleeps with her. he finds himself thinking about it a lot more than he usually would, replaying the way she’d felt under his hands and the sounds she’d made in an almost absentminded way, so that he’s remembering it even when he’s not jerking off. even when he’s not trying to get back into her pants again. 

nothing much changes, after they start sleeping together. he continues to hit on her in an overt way and everyone around them starts to catch on to the fact that what’s between them is more than just words. 

kira lets him touch her in the woods, in her car, at the carnival, in her bedroom, at the warehouse. even in the common spaces. even in the kitchen.

surely if once wasn’t enough, then twelve times should be, right?

but it’s not. she remains a persistent distraction in meetings, on patrols and just about any time he’s supposed to be doing something other than fucking her speechless. which gets to be kind of annoying.

and he doesn’t pursue anyone else. but that’s not new, either.

so -- the warehouse feels a little different when he knows she’s on her way over. he can’t quite pinpoint exactly what it is, but there’s suddenly purpose in the day when kira’s coming by for a briefing or a meeting -- something he never felt on any of the other assignments he had.

“what’s got you so excited?” felix asks, looking pointedly at his tapping foot, a grin spreading across his face. 

mason stares blankly back at him. “i look excited to you?”

“well, you’re not scowling, which is about as close to happy as you get.”

his lip curls with a sneer, but felix just laughs at him. nate turns around, looking equally as amused. “do i need to separate you two?”

mason’s already diverted his attention to something else -- the sound of footsteps in the hallway, the familiar subtleties of kira’s heartbeat. as nonchalantly as he can manage, he slips from his seat on the couch to the arm of it, freeing up the space he’d been sitting in.

she smiles at all of them and the room feels a little brighter for it. felix waves her over from the other end of the couch, but when she sits down, it’s at mason’s end instead of toward the center. her shoulder bumps into his leg as she drops into the seat he’d been occupying just moments ago.

mason bumps her deliberately back. “watch it.”

the detective turns her smile on him. “hi,” she says, her proximity softening some of the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders.

everything that had felt so annoying before her arrival slowly starts to fade into nothing. not a minor annoyance -- nothing. his brow furrows with deep confusion; since when had she become so relaxing? “hey.”

agent langford clears her throat and starts passing out folders. mason startles, reaching for his more roughly than is strictly necessary. he hadn’t even realized she was there.

“here are the details on your new case. there’s been a series of kidnappings and robberies in town we want you to investigate. so far there’s no discernible pattern -- victims range in age from fourteen to eighty.”

kira hums, her eyes scanning the brief inside the folder. when she opens her mouth to speak he can tell she’s just had a coffee. “what makes you think our perp is supernatural?”

“all victims we were able to make contact with were injected with a very specific paralytic. our lab analyzed blood samples and discovered traces of fae venom in the toxins. those that were kidnapped turned up similar results at the crime scenes.”

kira grins. “like pixie dust?”

rebecca’s lips twitch with a barely suppressed smile. “something like that. i want you to split up and visit each of the crime scenes today. try to find something to link them together so we can predict the next target. let me know what you turn up.”

adam stands in front of them all as she departs, frowning down at the file in his hands. “i’ll take the office building. nate, you and felix visit the high school. mason, you and kira can take the church.”

felix laughs. “is mason even allowed inside a church?”

“come on,” nate grins, already heading for the door, “as much as i’d love to see him handle the high school...”

when he looks back at kira, her lips are pursed to stifle a smile. he sighs at her, shifting to stand. “don’t take their side.”

“hey, they have a point.” she squints into the sun as they step outside, then asks, “are you alright with walking? it’s not that far from here.”

“sure.” for once, it isn’t freezing in this useless town, and it might be nice to take their time. plus, “we won’t have to risk getting stuck somewhere in that trash heap you call a car.”

the detective laughs. “you wish we’d get stuck in my car together.”

“well, i can definitely think of one way to pass the time if we did,” he smirks, tapping his fingers on the sides of his jeans as they itch for a cigarette. she shakes her head at him.

his eyes drift down to her ass as she leads the way down the street. the jeans she’s wearing seem like an unfair tease, even though they’re more or less the same thing she wears every day. but they do make him suddenly aware of the fact that it’s been a couple days since they’ve had time to sneak off together.

mason clears his throat. “been awhile since you spent the night at the warehouse,” he says casually, “you could stay over tonight.”

the ghost of a smile appears on her face, the look in her eyes making it obvious she knows what he’s talking about, even though she plays dumb. “why? it’ll be early enough when we get done here.”

he licks his lips. “you know why.”

her footsteps slow to a stop, and he blinks as he realizes they’re already at the church. there’s crime scene tape in front of the steps, and kira reaches out to hold it up for him to duck under with an expectant nod. “come on.”

he waits for her to stand next to him before they walk inside, in tandem, closer together than they probably need to be. immediately, the smell of dust and incense permeate his senses and he wrinkles his nose, sighing as he starts to glance around for anything amiss. “remind me what we’re looking for, again?”

“clues,” kira says obnoxiously, grinning over her shoulder at him. she moves away to walk down the left aisle of pews and the annoying church smell worsens, giving him a headache. he changes course to follow her instead of walking down the right side on his own.

it looks like... a church. he’d had a hunch this visit was going to be a waste of time before they’d even left to come here, but now that he’s seen what they’re working with he’s pretty positive he’d been right. “there’s nothing here.”

“do you always have to be so negative?” she asks, her voice hushed. it’s then that he realizes he’s close enough to hear her perfectly, anyway, and backs off a little, maintaining a more respectful distance behind her. though he does find his eyes glued to her ass again.

“it’s part of my charm.” the little scoff she gives in return makes his lips twitch, and he leans back against the pew in the front row as she steps up to the alter, her eyes narrowed on the artifacts -- props? -- strewn across the table.

he’s content just to watch her work. kira’s methodical as she walks slowly across the church, her brow furrowed and her lips frowning. it only takes her a few minutes before she sighs and admits, “i don’t see anything.”

“i told you.” she crosses the room to be closer to him again, and he can feel his grin return once she’s within reaching distance. his fingers find the belt loops of her jeans and tug her hips forward. “doesn’t mean we have to let this empty room go to waste, though.”

her eyebrows arch. “this is a church.”

“so?” his gaze is heated as it slides down her body pointedly. he maneuvers her into the pew, then drops to his knees in front of her. “maybe i’m taking up praying.”

she laughs, but when he looks up at her she’s biting her bottom lip, and he can read desire in the way her pupils dilate -- in the way the lightest flush spreads out across her face.

“okay,” she grins, “go for it.”

he’s never been religious, but there’s something about the sounds she makes when he eats her out that make her seem like a goddess he’d have no trouble worshipping. she threads her fingers into his hair and pulls, and he isn’t satisfied until she’s had too much and starts pushing his face away with a whine.

the sun’s low in the sky when he stands, and though his dick is straining at the front of his jeans, begging for relief, he knows they’re expected back at the warehouse. they’ll be the last to arrive as it is.

he grabs kira’s hand when she reaches for his zipper and helps her up, too. “later,” he says, shaking his head. his free hand travels up to his mouth, swiping his thumb across his bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth to clean it off. the way she shivers makes his smirk widen dangerously. “stay over.”

“sure,” she agrees, reaching up to smooth down her hair. he knows she’s probably hoping to keep what happens between them private, but there’s no way the rest of the team won’t know exactly what they’d been caught up doing as soon as they get back to the warehouse, especially with that look on her face.

as expected, she shifts back and forth on her feet obviously when they convene in the meeting room and adam says, “so you searched the church... for three hours. and didn’t find anything?” his voice is slow, like he’s working up to an explosion.

mason shrugs. “yep.”

even nate is eyeing them with disapproval, but behind him, felix is grinning like a kid on christmas morning. mason glares at him.

the detective clears her throat. “did you guys find anything?”

adam’s jaw clenches before he responds. “no. the rest of the employees had already cleaned up the office building.”

nate pulls his pinched look of disappointment away and confirms, “the high school was empty as well.”

kira nods like everyone in the room isn’t staring at her. “tomorrow we should speak with some of the surviving victims. i’ll stay over tonight so we can be ready to go first thing in the morning.”

six eyes snap to mason to stare at him instead. “sounds good to me,” he answers, unfazed, “later.��

he turns and leaves without a backward glance, though he can hear felix teasing kira even when he rounds the corner and heads down the hallway to his room. the sound of her voice is unusually loud to him, until he shuts the door and makes a point of ignoring it. he’s sure he doesn’t want to hear whatever stupid shit they’re talking about anyway.

it’s over an hour before her familiar heartbeat tap dances back into his ears. he’s just starting to get annoyed, waiting for her, when she opens the door and slips inside without knocking, her steps purposefully light. she doesn’t want anyone else to know she’s here.

he lifts his head from the pillows where he’d been laying in bed and smirks at her. “you sure took your time.”

“i was talking to nate about the case,” she answers, taking a few measured strides closer. “why, did you miss me?”

“i miss being inside of you,” he says, standing so he can have the physical advantage over her, using the full breadth of his body to back her into the wall, “or did you forget you left me with blue balls back there?”

kira tilts her head back against the wall, smiling at him. “i don’t think you’d ever let me forget that.”

he’s already unbuttoning her jeans, eager to get to her bare skin. “you’re right about that one. but there’s a few other things i’d be happy to make you forget.”

they only get undressed halfway; she’s seemingly just as eager as he is to get to the good part, and even after they’re done and she’s shifting her clothes back into place, her moans still rattle around inside his ears, the sound of her voice when she’d said his name echoing through his head.

mason reaches up to swipe his hair out of his eyes, grinning at the way kira wobbles a little unsteadily on her feet when he steps away. “need me to carry you back to your room, sweetheart?”

she’d been eyeing his bed, but turns back to him, then. her mouth twists into a frown that’s all wrong on her face. “i think i can manage.”

she straightens up and moves toward the door. something seems to have shifted in the air between them, the mood from before suddenly gone in favor of something colder. his brow furrows at her back, and he opens his mouth to call out to her before thinking better of it, only letting his gaze linger on the line of her spine.

kira hesitates, but when he doesn’t speak up, she opens the door and leaves.

so much for the afterglow. an annoyance he can’t place fills him abruptly, made worse by the fact that her room isn’t far enough away for him to tune out the sound of her -- he’s hyperaware of her as she gets changed, paces around in her room, does something on her phone and then ultimately gets into bed.

a cigarette would dull his senses. she’s not here now to complain, so he could have one, but then he’d miss out on the sound of her breathing as it slowly evens out and she eventually falls asleep.

and he doesn’t want that.

mason loses track of time once there’s complete silence surrounding him. late at night, there’s hardly any activity in this part of the warehouse, and knowing that kira is around -- hearing her heartbeat whenever he wants -- is comforting in some weird, unidentifiable way, despite how fucking loud it seems. 

except that at some point her even breathing turns ragged, quickening like she’s panicked. he slowly sits up in bed as he hears her gasp, squinting into the darkness of his room suspiciously. she still sounds like she’s alone, but she’s undeniably afraid, tossing and turning and whimpering --

it all stops abruptly, and he realizes what it is when her door opens and then slams shut. he stands, walking to the door and listening silently. he can picture her out there as her back hits the door and slides down, a shaky exhale trailing off into deep breaths that are a little calmer, now. 

he should leave her alone.

except his fingers twist the door knob before he can stop them, and he steps out into the hallway to look at her. she’s exactly where he’d imagined her, slumped on the floor against the door of her bedroom with her head in her hands, her chest rising and falling rapidly with every breath.

“hey.” her head jerks up and she startles, like she’s surprised to see him there. that’s fair. he’s surprised, too. mason leans against the doorjamb, folding his arms across his bare chest. “another nightmare?”

she swallows, averting her eyes. he watches her push her fingers through her long, dark hair, and then she nods, staring off down the hallway. “yeah.”

nate or felix would know the right thing to say to her. he does not. “haven’t you gotten used to those by now?”

kira turns her cheek and her eyes find his in the dim light of the hallway. he can tell instantly that he’s said something stupid, and frowns at her when he notices just how tired she looks. she scrambles to her feet and snaps, “forget it.”

the detective storms off down the hallway and disappears out of sight before he can say another word. annoyance spikes once he’s alone in the hallway, and he sighs heavily when the door to one of the common areas opens and then slams shut.

something within him feels drawn to following her. there’s an instinct he doesn’t recognize telling him to go to the lounge and sit with her until she feels as calm as he does when she sits with him. 

his fists clench as the door to nate’s room opens and he pokes his head out into the hallway, too. nate stares at him, and then quietly asks, “are you alright?”

“why wouldn’t i be?” he growls, quickly ducking back into his own room and slamming his door closed, too. 

he stares at the ceiling for hours waiting for the sound of her footsteps to come back down the hallway again. at dawn, he finally hears the hinges of her door creak, and something tight in his chest loosens slowly, letting him relax.

kira still looks exhausted when they all reconvene an hour later. she and felix are together on the couch again, though he’s sitting closer to her this time, concern in his eyes as they talk quietly, their heads bowed together. 

he sits on the arm of the sofa and pretends not to notice the way they stop talking as soon as he does so. “morning,” felix smiles at him, though he barely nods back, staring at the way kira’s gone tense where she’s sitting. 

she only waits a minute before getting up, crossing the room to get herself a cup of coffee. she stands there stirring it for a long time before slowly sitting down in one of the empty armchairs next to nate. 

mason stares at her from across the room. there’s an empty chair on the other side of her, but it’s not like he can get up now, without a reason. annoyance fills him as he watches her pretend not to notice the way he’s staring at her; kira sips her coffee and chats with nate and looks at her fingernails and her shoes. she acts like he isn’t even there.

adam and agent langford walk in together, but he misses most of what they say, inexplicable displeasure settling inside him. he only snaps back to attention when he hears the detective say, “adam, you’re with me,” and watches, in surprise, as they leave the lounge together, something unpleasant twisting in his stomach.

there’s a long stretch of silence before agent langford says, “the three of you should go question some of the high schoolers. the rest of the debate team was around when sarah was kidnapped. maybe one of them saw something.”

working with nate and felix should be easy. it’s familiar enough to him. 

except that he’s spent most of the last few months alone with kira, and it’s odd to know that adam’s with her, now, working the angle he’d usually occupy.

“stop sulking,” felix directs, nudging him with his shoulder, “just because we’re not as pretty as kira --”

“i’m not sulking,” he bites back, “i don’t give a shit who she investigates with.”

“uh huh,” felix says, his disbelief obvious, “right.”

“i don’t,” he insists, “so shut up before i --”

“please,” nate sighs, “can we save it for later? it’s taxing enough talking to high schoolers as it is.”

he falls silent, glowering at nothing. everything is heightened in an unwelcome way and even his irritation feels dialed up to a new level. he pulls a cigarette out as soon as they stop on the sidewalk outside of the school, and pointedly turns his back on nate and felix when they head inside without him.

mason leans against a street sign and stares out at nothing, scuffing the toes of his boots against the curb. no one’s checking up on him like kira would be if she were here, and the silence is strange. time drags on at a glacial pace without her to check out or whistle at or snipe back and forth with. 

he isn’t exactly great at reading her, but he’s pretty sure she’s pissed off at him. that’s not new -- he’s annoyed her plenty since they first met, and probably said a lot worse than whatever had made her so upset this time -- but the way it unsettles him is. if he had to explain it, something just doesn’t feel... right. 

shaking the odd feeling out of his head, he smokes the rest of the cigarettes in his pocket waiting for nate and felix to return. they don’t look particularly happy when they do.

“find anything?” he asks, because he’s probably supposed to care about that.

“sarah’s teammates recall seeing a blue light when she was kidnapped,” nate answers, frowning. “but the way they described it...”

felix shrugs. “wouldn’t make sense for it to be fae. so either the lab got something wrong, or we have no idea what we’re dealing with.”

“great.” his thoughts drift to adam and kira without conscious effort. 

“hopefully kira had better luck,” nate sighs. “we’ll wait for them at the warehouse.”

except that it takes hours for them to return. the minutes continue to tick by agonizingly slowly, until he’s pacing in the lounge, fidgety and tense. 

“seriously?” felix asks as he lights up yet another cigarette, pulled from the emergency stash under his bed, “i’m sure they’re fine.”

“what?” his voice is a growl, his eyes set into a glare. he’s not worried about them. he’s annoyed they’re wasting so much of his time. the sooner they debrief on their progress for the day, the sooner he can get out of here.

“leave him alone,” nate directs to felix over his shoulder, “they had some kind of fight.”

“we didn’t have a fight,” he snarls, his annoyance building further, “and i don’t know what you’re talking about. i’m not doing anything.”

they exchange a glance right in front of him. fortunately, the sound of footsteps reaches his ears before he can argue with them further, though he’s forced to frown when her heartbeat follows the squeak of her shoes on the tile, a little faster than it should be. he puts out his cigarette and tosses it into the trash.

she looks normal enough when they enter the room. that it’s not immediately identifiable why her pulse is racing deepens his scowl. his gaze shifts to adam uneasily.

he seems to misread why mason’s looking at him. “we didn’t get much of a lead. our victim doesn’t remember anything that happened to him.”

kira sits down in one of the chairs across the room from him again and actually pays attention to whatever nate and felix are saying, doubtlessly filling her in on what they’d found out at the school. he skulks silently in the dark corner of the room, tuning them all out in favor of waiting for her heartbeat to return to normal.

it doesn’t, though, even when she stands to leave, grabbing her purse. he shifts to his feet in turn before he even realizes he’s doing it, and though kira looks surprised, she meets his eyes and asks, “walk me to my car?”

mason smirks at her, licking his lips. he nods, and doesn’t look at the rest of the team as they leave the warehouse, stepping outside. “it’s been a minute since we made use of that backseat,” he grins, the persistent, low-level hum of annoyance and unease he’d felt all day starting to fade away into nothing. 

he doesn’t even notice how quiet she’s being until they reach her car and she stops him when he moves to grab the door handle to the backseat, curling her fingers around his wrist. “actually --” he turns, and finds her staring out into the woods beyond his shoulder, looking at nothing. “about that.”

kira’s heartbeat is still too fast. her hand drops from his wrist and his falls back to his side, away from the car door. she finally turns and catches his eye. “when we started doing this you said it’d be fun for both of us. but it’s not fun for both of us anymore.”

mason stares at her in confusion as she rocks back on her heels, putting some space between them. “what?”

“i just --”

“it sure seemed like you were having fun yesterday.” what the fuck is she talking about?

“i was,” she agrees gently, “it’s not about that. of course i enjoy that. it’s everything else.”

“there isn’t anything else,” he bites out, voice filled with obvious frustration. 

“right. that’s what i’m saying.” she’s looking at him like he’s supposed to know what she’s talking about. he stares back at her in silence for a long time.

mason shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, dragging his tongue along his teeth. he sure hadn’t expected this when he’d followed her out here. “well, when you change your mind you know where to find me, sweetheart.” 

he walks back inside without looking at her, trying to put a name to the strange feeling swelling inside him. if he’s ever felt it before, he can’t recall when or why, but that it might be something new seems even more unsettling.

the rest of the team is waiting for him in the lounge when he returns. “what?” he demands, glaring at each of them in turn. “why are you looking at me like that?”

“i told you i didn’t want to have to clean up your mess,” adam sighs, his face pinched. mason bristles.

“there’s no mess. it’s not a big deal.”

nate glances at adam and then looks over at him. “it’s just that kira seemed -- upset. adam said she wasn’t like herself today.”

“well, we’re officially not fucking anymore, so i guess you don’t have to worry about it,” he bites out, reaching for his cigarettes where he’d left them on the table. it’s not like anyone’s around to tell him no.

“woah,” felix says, frowning over at him, “what? are you okay?”

he snorts. “like i care.” smoke billows in front of his face, obscuring the rest of the team from his view. when it clears, he sees that they’re all staring at him again. “what?”

“you know you can talk to us if you want to, right?” nate’s eyes look concerned. “we’re here for you no matter what.”

mason glances off with a shrug. “i know. but there’s nothing to talk about.” he pauses, inhaling deeply. smoke fills his lungs slowly, and that irritatingly unwelcome feeling starts to dissipate. “come get me if there’s any updates with the case.”

he goes up to the roof because his room still kind of smells like her, if he concentrates, and he doesn’t want to be tempted into concentrating. 

alone, he finally lets himself consider something he’s been putting off thinking about. the complicated parts.

she’d wanted those. and he said no.

that strange feeling starts to twist his stomach again. as he stares off into the sky, unseeing, it eventually starts to take a recognizable shape.

those two months they’d spent setting up the warehouse, when he hadn’t seen her at all -- he’d felt like this then. he remembers it and its strange ache with stunning clarity. 

he misses her. that’s what it is. he fucking misses her.

that’s never happened before.

he blinks, stunned by the revelation. “huh.”

slowly, it all starts to make sense. the way he feels better when they’re near each other -- how he’s always looking for her in any room, whenever he can -- 

unbelievable. he likes her. 

numbly, he finishes his cigarette and ducks back inside. his feet carry him back to the lounge like he’s sleep walking.

“oh, good,” nate says when he sees him, sounding pleased. mason can feel the way the expression on his face is still puzzled, his brows drawn together in complete confusion. “you figured it out.”

his head snaps up. “what?”

“the detective,” nate prompts, looking at him expectantly. “right?”

mason pushes a hand through his hair. it’s difficult to place -- almost impossible. he’s a hundred years old and he’s never felt like this before. “maybe there’s something else,” he admits begrudgingly, the words stilted. “besides the obvious.”

felix is practically vibrating from his position on the couch. “okay, you need to go over there,” he exclaims, his eyes wide, his smile stretching his face. “and tell her right away! seriously.”

he cringes. “just show up at her apartment?”

“yes,” felix insists emphatically, “you have to tell her right now.”

ugh. but he’s already told everyone here -- isn’t that enough? he looks at nate.

“i think she’d like that,” he says, which is the opposite of what mason was hoping for. he sighs, running his fingers through his hair again.

“are you sure?” 

felix opens his mouth, but nate leans in first. “only if you want to.”

well. he does miss her. he knows that now. 

still, he hesitates. there’s silence in the room until felix makes a strangled sound of impatience, and they all turn to glare at him again. “stop it,” nate scolds, “be patient with him, he’s having a crisis.”

“okay -- i’m going,” he announces decisively. from the couch, felix crows with victory, clutching his chest when he falls back against the cushions.

“love,” he sighs dramatically, “it’s so beautiful.”

mason looks at nate. “make sure he’s not doing that when i get back.”

“no promises,” nate answers, and he can hear them bickering distantly as he heads for the door and then kira’s apartment, as quickly as he can -- before he has time to change his mind.

he feels strange again when he knocks on her door and waits for her to open up. almost like he’s injured, somehow, a little weak and confused. well -- he is knocking. that on its own is strange.

she’s already in her pajamas when she opens the door and frowns at him. “mason?” she steps aside to let him in, seemingly unaware of how frantic and panicked he is. mostly it seems like she, too, is confused by the knocking. “what’re you doing here? is everything alright?”

“uhhhhh.” great. he’s a moron. how is he supposed to start? “well -- i was thinking.”

“dangerous, for you,” she quips, doing something funny to his stomach again. oh, holy fucking christ. he knows what that is. that’s fondness. he’s fond of her.

he turns his head and holds her gaze steady, ignoring, for the first time ever, the heat that forms between them. that’s not what he’s after. “i was thinking about the complicated parts.”

kira doesn’t say a word, but his eyes zero in on the straight line of her teeth where they bite at her full bottom lip. her body language is otherwise frustratingly difficult to read.

“maybe i want them -- out there. with you.”

anyone else wouldn’t be able to hear the tiny hitch in her breath when she inhales, but he does.

“do you?” 

he nods. there’s silence again, but just for a moment -- he only has a split second to figure he’s just fucked up in a major way before her face transforms with a beautiful smile.

“i want that, too.” the softness he used to turn away from is back in her eyes, again, but this time, he holds her gaze. “i care about you. a lot.”

there’s something about hearing her confirm, out loud, what he’d already sort of known. a million little things click into place at once, unlocking something inside of him. it feels like he’s had dozens of puzzle pieces waiting around for this moment -- pieces he’s only now able to put together. “yeah. me, too. i just didn’t know what it was. but now i do.”

her smile turns a little more private, and it’s all the more beautiful for that. “just like that?”

he shrugs. “you leaving today flipped a switch. i hated it.”

worse than that -- felix and nate were right. she’s obviously unbelievably pleased to have him in her apartment, saying shit like that to her. her whole face is lit up with joy.

“you could’ve just talked to me about it.” he arches an eyebrow at her and is rewarded with her laughter. “yeah -- i heard it as i was saying it. okay, fair enough.”

“look.” further delight blooms across her expression as he steps closer, closing the distance between them. “you’re going to have to get used to all of this, okay?”

“oh, yeah?” 

he loves the way she has to tilt her head all the way back to look at him when he gets too close. 

how could he ever think that any amount of time spent together would ever be enough?

“yeah,” he confirms, leaning down to close the distance their height difference creates between them, “because now -- i’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

[exittotheartscape]

Happy (Early) Halloween!

It’s wild that Halloween’s tomorrow, to be honest, but I managed to finish something in time to celebrate! A continuation of my story from last year’s Halloween!

Link to Part 1 (I put a little recap before this second part of the story though, in case you just want a quick refresher, but the link to the first part is here as well)

Recap time! :

Maxi and Marie have reached a town in the mountains. While Marie stays back at the inn, Maxi goes out to resupply their food. To his surprise, a festival is going on. Nice!

There are also mice soldiers at the festival. Not nice!

Hiding in a shop with a large collection of furniture and candles, Maxi accidentally knocks over a display and breaks it. Then he faints. Then he can...feel...stuff....again?

Correlation or causation? Who knows? Certainly not Maxi.

Now, let the story begin!

-----------

On the floor of a dark, candle-lit store, Maxi was failing to freak out in silence.

“What just...what the hell happened to me?” Maxi frantically turned his hands in front of his face, expecting them to turn back into wood at any moment. The candlelight illuminating the cloth of his gloves made it clear that this was not the case.

Sitting against a wall, back hunched and hands shaking, Maxi began to notice he was breathing heavily...that he was breathing at all. He looked to see the cloth of his jacket rise and fall, and beneath it, unseen but felt, a beating heart.

An ecstatic, disbelieving smile cracked across his face. Despite himself he began to laugh, the sound tumbling from his mouth and shaking his body. The feeling of a laugh was one he hadn’t known he’d missed.

He was a human again. 

Not a nutcracker, not a wooden body denied rest and warmth, not some cursed soldier. 

He was himself!

...

But...how?

As far as Maxi knew, the only way to lift such a spell was to go to the source, in this case being the magical powers held by the Mice Royal Family. Considering the town he now found himself in was a long ways off from the castle (and the obvious fact that the Mouse King wouldn’t want to lift his curse in the first place), how was this even possible?

A prickling sensation cut through Maxi’s hand, and he remembered the glass shards scattered across the floor. His eyes followed the trail to its origin, a round wooden frame. No... not a frame, a mirror, which now lay on its side in a pile of its own glass. The shards still clinging to the frame copied and split his face, the reflection scattered like an overturned puzzle.

Though he didn’t know how, Maxi had a suspicion the shattered mirror was what had fixed him. Gazing at it now he remembered, as he had fallen, the strange feeling of sleep that had overtaken him. It had felt oddly familiar. The wave of sleep that had washed over him was one he had felt before, nearly 20 years ago…

It was at this moment it occurred to Maxi that whoever owned this store might not be too pleased to find their belongings broken into pieces. And, from his experience, an angry magician was not someone he wanted to come up against.

So, too freaked out to consider looking into the source of his transformation, Maxi gathered his wits and slipped out of the darkened store.

----------

It was getting late, and Marie was getting hungry.

The young girl had spent the time since Maxi’s departure with her face planted into a pillow, too tired to move yet too stubborn to get under the covers. The inn was fairly quiet, with only the occasionally creaking of floorboards rising from neighboring rooms. A second sound could be faintly heard from outside the window, like the chattering of a crowd, though Marie wasn’t sure if her tired mind was just imagining it.

He’s been gone for a while, hasn’t he? How long does it take for someone to go grocery shopping, anyway?

Marie let out a heavy sigh through the pillow. He must have really wanted a break from her, hadn’t he? Not that she didn’t appreciate having time away from him as well, but…

Something had begun to nag at the back of Marie’s mind, similar to the feeling she got when trying to listen in on the adults’ conversations at her parent’s dinner parties: she had the irritating notion that she was misinterpreting the situation.

Maybe she had wanted a break from her traveling companion, but that wouldn’t have been enough to motivate Maxi to leave for so long a time. He was always looking over his shoulder, after all, despite Marie’s obviously claims that he should lighten up. If he hadn’t been able to find an open grocery at this hour, then he would have come back to the inn and tried again in the morning.

...Huh, that’s actually pretty smart. Good job, me.

Marie lifted herself into a sitting position, stretching her legs out as she reached for her slippers. If Maxi had gotten himself into some sort of mess, then it was her job to get him out of it. Maybe then he’d start seeing her as “sensible” or “competent” or any of those other words he’d said after that time she’d knocked his hat off with her slingshot.

At that thought, a smug grin set itself onto Marie’ face as she went to unlock the door.

----------

Maxi had managed to slip between some of the homes in the square, sheltering himself from the eyes of the mice soldiers. They seemed to have halted their patrol to continue enjoying the festivities, and he could spy them once again by the treat tables, laughing and tapping their feet to the music. With that, Maxi let out a soft sigh of relief.

He had calmed down significantly since leaving the shop, and was now trying to piece together a plan. How was he supposed to get back to the inn? He wasn’t a Nutcracker anymore, which made things significantly easier, but he was still from out of town. That could draw unwanted attention.

Guess my first step should be to look as normal as possible.

Maxi took off his jacket and flipped it inside-out, the vibrant red- and-gold of the outer fabric revealing a faded pink-and-yellow underside. He didn’t have a hat to worry about, thankfully (he supposed he had to be grateful to that idiotic thief Aurick for that). His gloves were easy enough to shove into his pockets, though he had to pick off a few clinging shards of glass from them. A simple change of appearance, yet one that helped hide the telltale design of his newly-restored uniform.

As for his sword…

Maxi paused as he held the sheathed weapon in his hands, the blade pulled out slightly as he contemplated his choices. He could take it with him, he supposed, he had brought it with him from the inn after all. But...for some reason, he felt the urge to leave it behind. He kept his eyes on the blade, watching it reflect the lantern light from the square.

It might be best to just leave it here. I doubt anyone will notice if I hide it behind some barrels, and I can just pick it up in the morning before we leave! I didn’t want the mice seeing me with a weapon, anyway.

Maxi let out a quiet laugh. Yeah, what was there to worry about? He had been through worse, he just had to trust his gut and he’d be fine.

Maxi set his sword down gently between a cluster of wooden casks, straightened his jacket, and walked towards the alley’s entrance. He allowed himself to grin again as he joined the throng of toys and humans alike.

It was nice to smile without the restrictions of a fixed jaw.

If Maxi hadn’t been so distracted by his own thoughts, however, he would have paid more attention to his sword. The way it had reflected his face as wooden, with rosy cheeks and painted eyes.

----------

Marie had been right, she had heard a crowd!

Marie had wandered through the streets, guided by the lanterns overhead as she made her way towards the laughter bubbling up from the town square. She had taken her time in doing so, and if you had gone up to ask her why she would have said it was because she was looking for Maxi, of course.

Really, though, she was simply taking in the sights.

Her hometown held a festival each winter, a market selling scarfs and treats and other gifts for Christmas. The atmosphere in this mountain-nestled village mirrored what she felt whenever the market came around, and it was easing her homesickness. It was comforting.

Yet, at the same time, it all felt so different. The music had a tinkling sound to it, as if the air were filled with hundreds of twirling chimes. The lanterns overhead had a different design than the ones back home, and Marie had kept her head craned upward for most of her walk as she stared, enthralled. Pieces of reflective glass bounced the candlelight all about the streets, and the glass itself was set in swirling patterns. 

When she finally reached the square, Marie had almost forgotten her original task. As she watched the swirling dancers with colored glass on their costumes, she was wearing a wide grin. She was glad she had left the inn, otherwise she would have missed out on the fun!

She wasn’t completely forgetful, however. Staring into the crowd of townsfolk, she remembered that she had to be on the lookout for one face in particular. She closed her eyes, took in a determined breath, and gave a little nod.

“Alright, Marie, ready to be responsible?”

With that, she joined the noise of the square.

[delimeful]

how easy you are to need (1)

warnings: cold, death mention, violence, fighting, blood

Chapter 1

When the humans showed up, it was winter. 

It took Virgil a shamefully long amount of time to realize, wondering about the odd scent on the breeze until he passed the abandoned house on the edge of his territory. It was a small but well-built cabin, one that he’d attempted to shelter in during past winters, before realizing that it was laced with supernatural deterrents. He’d dismissed it as an old hunter hideout, seeing as it hadn’t been touched in years.

Naturally, it was now lit from within, a wisp of grey smoke curling from the chimney. Virgil moaned lowly, already tired of the situation. Winters were always hard, and this one especially so. He could already envision any number of possible catastrophes that could result from confronting the trespassers in his weakened and vaguely malnourished state. 

He turned away, stalking back into the woods. It wasn’t worth the trouble. 

A week later, he found himself stumbling into the clearing, half-dead with cold. 

It hadn’t been planned. He’d been struggling to keep moving, keep the blood pumping through him, knowing that stopping in such a heavy storm meant he would never get back up. He’d underestimated the season, and now he was paying the price. 

The lights of the cabin caught his eye, a distant warmth, and he wandered towards it with a limping gait. Getting seen by humans might just mean a more merciful death, at this point. He looked like a normal wolf, if a bit oversized, so they probably wouldn’t be able to tell he was a shifter, right?

He paused at the edge of the halo of light cast out by the window, nervous, but he could already feel the warmth emanating from the house. He slunk closer, circling the house until he found the vent opening to the crawl space. Hunters were paranoid; always keeping unexpected escape routes built into their hideouts. 

He braced himself, and then shifted with low cracks of bone and flesh. This close to the full moon, it ached like sore muscles, but not as bad as the cold stung at his now human body. Gritting his teeth, he quickly dug his nails into the wood surrounding the metal grate and tore it out, ignoring the splinters he now surely had. Task done, he shifted back as quick as he could and waited for an agonizing moment, listening for any signs that he’d been heard. 

Nothing. 

Satisfied, Virgil belly-crawled into the space under the house, just barely managing to fit at his height. From there, it was just a matter of finding the warmest spot and recovering for a few hours. Thankfully, the floorspace extended to where the fireplace crackled merrily. 

Unfortunately, the occupants of the house were seated in the same room, and his acute hearing in this form meant that he could hear their conversations loud and clear. He sighed lowly, and settled in, struggling to ignore their chatter.

And chatter they did.  

Over the course of the next few hours, he managed to discern each human’s name and identify which one was talking based on dialogue alone. 

There were three of them, unless they had a fourth, mute roommate who they never acknowledged. 

The first, and loudest, was Roman. He spoke arrogantly, full of bravado and thrilling tales of derring-do, like a pampered prince on a white horse. Virgil couldn’t help but huff occasionally, certain that certain aspects were exaggerated, but his nicknames for the others were a riot. Since the others seemed less keen on returning fire, Virgil vowed to mentally dub him Princey. 

The second was Patton. He was the friendly type, fondness for the other two clear in his voice every time he made a bad joke at them. The gaps in the stories were always filled by his various noises of reaction, gasping and humming at all the right parts. He even occasionally commented on the cruelty or kindness of a certain act, regardless if the hero or villain was the one committing it.     

The third, and by comparison the quietest, was Logan. He kept his voice so measured that sometimes Virgil had to strain to hear it. And he did, because Logan’s commentary was always either rather informative or brutally popping Princey’s bubble. His words were often blunt, but the way he delivered them made Virgil think that he didn’t really intend to be rude. He was just honest. 

They must have known each other for a long time, because there was little abrasion in the way they poked fun or chimed in to stories they had been present for. It was a sort of easy camaraderie, the kind that Virgil’d never had as a literal lone wolf. He wondered absently if humans had packs. Maybe he would have had one if he hadn’t been turned. 

Somewhat melancholy, he curled up and tucked his head against his paws, dozing to the sound of the idle conversation above him. 

When he woke, the storm had finally settled into a light drift of snow, and the house above him was quiet and still, the heat faded. 

He lay there for a long moment with chill in his bones, considering breaking into the house and getting rid of the intruders while they lay vulnerable. There were only three, and even in his current state, the odds were in his favor. He should just be done with it. Humans ended up a threat, always. 

Instead, he crawled out and made his way silently back into the woods to hunt. It was too troublesome to kill them. That was all.   

Being a lone wolf suited him, he reflected as he returned to the cabin the next night, because if he had packmates they would surely tease him relentlessly for being so soft. 

Still, the sounds of the humans above and the warmth of their hearth made sleeping easier than it’d been in ages, and with a clear head, hunting became easier. He figured that alone was enough reason to allow them to remain here, even if only for the season. It didn’t have anything to do with the fondness they spoke to each other with or the lack of harshness he’d come to expect from humans. Nothing at all. 

After all, he knew that even if they were kind to each other, such a courtesy wouldn’t be extended to him. He was familiar with the routine. The moment one of them spotted him, the tenuous peace would shatter and they’d be after him, vicious and cunning as humans always were. It’d been that way back when he was a pup, too small to be a threat, and he wasn’t fool enough to think things would change when he was a full-grown wolf. 

That didn’t mean he couldn’t take advantage of their presence until then, though, and he found that with each day, he learned more about the trio. 

Patton loved to bake but would often get distracted if drawn into conversation by one of the others, going by the burnt smell he woke up to on more than one occasion. Roman sometimes stayed up later than the others, unusually quiet apart from the constant, frantic scratching of pen on paper. Logan… 

Well, Logan seemed to love the stars, Virgil thought as he returned one evening to find the cabin’s lights off and the three of them laying down on a blanket under the sky. They were silhouettes in the dark, and he didn’t dare get close enough to see them properly, but he could hear Logan’s voice, reciting tales of his own for once as he pointed out ‘constellations’. 

He was sorely tempted to lay down at the edge of the woods, fall asleep to the sounds he had been listening to for weeks now, but… these humans were so exposed, out of their protected house, flat on their backs. Virgil couldn’t even tell if they had weapons with them. In the middle of monster territory, it was a dangerous move. 

It was just for the warmth, he told himself as he began patrolling the area around the house, scaring off anything that came in range and leaving furrows in the trees to warn that this space was his. The humans didn’t have anything to do with it. He held on to this assertion even when the snow began to melt, when he followed Roman from a distance when he went out to hunt. When he stood guard over Patton as he began to till the earth for a garden. When he sat under the stars with Logan and made sure nothing disturbed him. 

The humans didn’t affect him at all, until he found himself the only thing between them and the overgrown, magic-sick grizzly outside their home. 

“Is that a wolf?” Roman cried out behind him, as he snapped and snarled at the bear, hackles raised. It was stupid to try and take it down without a pack, especially with the crystals growing from its back and the wild, rabid look in its eyes. Normally, he’d be running to find the highest ground until it got tired and left, especially so close to the new moon, but- 

Behind him, Patton whimpered, and he felt another surge of anger at the sound. His scream had been the only thing that called him here in the first place, and he’d still been too late to keep the grizzly from taking a swipe at the human’s leg before he rammed right into it. 

He chanced a look over his shoulder, seeing Logan pressing cloth to the injury with one hand and winding Patton’s arm around his shoulders with the other. Roman had an enchanted blade out, alarm writ all over his face, and he wavered as though he wasn’t sure who was the bigger danger. At least he hadn’t figured out Virgil was a shifter yet.

The momentary lapse cost him, and he took a swing from one of those huge paws head on. Spots dotted his vision as he was knocked to the side, and he forced himself back to his feet, ignoring the way something seemed to have snapped on his right side. The bear was ignoring him now, small beady eyes back on the three humans, and Virgil felt an unprecedented protectiveness flare up in him. 

A growl building in his chest, he dove for the bear’s neck, latching on and tearing at its chest with his hind legs. It rose up onto two legs, baying and clawing, but Virgil continued to tear at its throat until a particularly harsh shake threw him off. He could taste blood in his mouth but rolled right back up, adrenaline muting all his pain, and let out an unearthly howl as he moved between the bear and the humans once more. 

The grizzly hadn’t come away without damage either, though, and its breaths came out rasping and wet. It seemed to suddenly decide the reward wasn’t worth the risk, as it gave one last growl before turning and going in search of easier things to kill. In Virgil’s forest.

Shit, Virgil thought, his form trembling with exhaustion, I should go deal with that. 

He managed a few shaking steps forward before collapsing, and as if to make everything perfectly worse, his wolf form slipped away like water through his fingers. He struggled to push himself back up, his mind screaming that he was going to be killed, but everything was so heavy and unresponsive. 

A glint of light caught his eye, and he turned his head slightly to see Roman a few paces away, sword still in hand. A throaty moan left him, more animal than human, and he let his head drop, craning his neck to look out at the forest. If he was going to be killed, he didn’t want to be looking at the damn human who did it. 

A footstep crunched behind him, and then the last of his adrenaline drained away and the pain hit, dragging him into blissful unconsciousness.

[imladris-soldier]

Lashes (pt 19)

Bill Williamson is a racist asshole. Everyone knows it. They just punch him and go on about their day. When a Lakota woman joins the gang, everyone expects things to go on as normal, slurs and all, and for a time, it does. But her curiosity gets the better of her, and she finds that hatred is something learned - which means it can be unlearned, if given time, care, and patience. And she has plenty of those… the first two, anyway.

Bill Williamson x OC

The mood around camp stayed tense over the next two days while Hosea and Dutch debated the bank job. The anticipation of that, on top of the lingering ice from the fight, kept things subdued and awkward. Star felt as though every one of her muscles were taut to their breaking point more often than not and soon took to arrow-making to occupy her time and take out her emotions on some unsuspecting wood. Charles provided her with endless feathers as he spent his time away from camp entirely, and he always brought back hunted birds to feed her new habit.

Bill kept quiet about the fact that he was protecting his lover, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what he was doing, sitting at her side with a gun near at hand. She felt better with him close, and every time Micah's eyes even slightly drifted in her direction, Bill would be reaching for his rifle. While she knew she would soon move past her altercation with the man and lose the lingering feeling of vulnerability, it was helpful to feel safe in the meantime.

Late one afternoon, Hosea began making rounds, announcing that the bank robbery was going ahead in the morning. As he approached Star and Bill, Arthur tagged along behind him. “Dutch says to get some rest,” the white-haired man told them. “We're movin' on Saint Denis in the mornin'. That said, Star... I was hopin' you might agree to stay behind at camp.”

“Why?” Bill demanded.

“'Cuz we need good fightin' folk to stay with those who ain't comin' along. Mrs. Adler will be stayin', and I was hopin' you might too. Whadda ya say?”

Star paused the monotonous movement of her knife against the stick in her hand to think. She could feel Bill's eyes on her, knowing well that he would prefer she go with him, but what did she know of robbing banks? She'd barely been involved in the Valentine job, and perhaps she had pushed her luck far enough by attending the mayor's party in town.

“I'll stay, Hosea. Seems like the best fit.”

He clapped his hands together, smiling. “Excellent. I'll leave you to it.”

As Hosea walked off, Arthur joined the pair around their small fire. “Appreciate ya bein' willing to stay,” he told her. “I know ya like to be in the thick of things.”

She offered him a smile before going back to her work. “I dunno. I'm a bit out of my depth here.”

“Nah. But I, for one, will feel better knowin' them that's stayin' has you and Sadie lookin' out for 'em. You are both mighty women.”

“Thanks, Arthur.”

As she scraped her knife against the wood, Star glanced at Bill out of the corner of her eye. He was slumped slightly in apparent disappointment, and he seemed to be mulling over some words to say, though he also seemed unwilling to speak them with Arthur present. After a moment, he cleared his throat and quietly asked, “Arthur, can I get a minute alone with my wife?”

Star's movements slowed immediately to a stop as Bill's question rattled around in her head. There was something intoxicating and dangerous about hearing him call her his own in such a way.

“Sure,” Arthur replied, lumbering to his feet and knocking the dust off his jeans. “I'll see you two in the mornin'. Get some sleep.”

He left them, and Star sighed, sitting aside her project to devote her attention to Bill. He was fiddling with one of the patches on his pants, tugging at the haphazard sewing. She waited patiently for him to start, and began weaving together a small crown of grass in the meantime.

“I... I know I ain't exactly made myself clear on... well... seein' as how sometimes I want you to stay home and sometimes I'm draggin' ya out there in the middle of shit. I just don't want ya to think... I know you're a good shot and all. I know you can take care of yourself. But, ya know, it's like you said. We watch each others backs, but we can only do that together. I-I-I'd just feel better... havin' you with me. That's all.”

Star nodded, taking some time to think on that. Her fingers worked at the grass in her hands, twisting it into a long rope that left behind a slight green stain. “You realize I would be a liability, don't you? I've never robbed a bank. Not properly.”

“Don't mean you ain't good at it,” he replied with a slight smile. “Ain't seen much you can't do.”

A small laugh skittered out of her. “Now, now. Compliments will not change my mind. Hosea was right to ask me to stay. I'll be of more use here looking after everyone. We have the rest of our lives for me to look after you.”

Something about that seemed to take a weight from Bill's shoulders. He smiled at the ground. “Guess that's right. Didn't think of it that way.”

“Besides, you know I'll be with you in spirit.” She crawled to him, placing her grass rope around his head before tapping his chest. “Right here. If you get into a tight spot, just ask yourself what I would do. And then... depending on the situation, perhaps do the exact opposite.”

Bill laughed, grabbing her waist and pulling her atop him as he laid back in the grass. She shrieked playfully, laughing with him. From her position above him, she pressed her nose to his. “You'll be ok. Everything is going to be ok. And when it's over, we'll be headed for a tropical paradise where the only things we'll have to worry about are sea monsters and sunburns.”

She said it for her own benefit as much as his. With the way things had been going, it was impossible not to worry and doubt, but doing so brought down the wrath of Dutch who was just so damned sure of himself and his dream. Star wanted to believe in him and the future he spoke of, but there were so many unknowns. When this job was finally out of the way, perhaps they would finally have some direction.

The pair spent the night close together, turning in early though neither found sleep so easily. After some tossing and turning, they both gave up. Bill took a comb to Star's dark locks and tried to practice his braiding. Charles had shown him some time ago, but he was still struggling to get it down. Fine motor skills weren't exactly his forte. Still, it was comforting for Star to feels his fingers in her hair, even if they occasionally pulled. He apologized every time.

As the sky began to turn grey, Star's anxiety grew. Despite knowing that it was best for her to stay, she wanted to go and watch her man's back. Hell, she wanted to watch everyone's back. Her single trip to Saint Denis was enough for her to know that it wasn't going to be easy getting out of there. Winding streets made for too many places that pursuers could bottleneck them in or cut them off.

When the camp began to stir, Star helped Bill dress in his suit, unable to keep a snicker to herself. “What?” he asked, turning to and fro, trying to find what she was laughing at.

“Nothing. It's just... was that the only fabric you could find?

“What's wrong with it?”

She appraised the plaid suit, leaning her chin into her hand. “I mean... nothing, really. It's just a bit... chaotic.” His hair was a bushy mess too, as usual, adding to the frazzled look. “Come here.” She grabbed some pomade and coated her comb in it before dragging it through his hair until it laid down into something resembling respectable. “Better.”

“I ain't tryin' to get a job at the bank, I'm tryin' to rob the damn thing,” he retorted, though not without amusement and warmth.

“You gotta get in the place first, and they're not going to let you within a mile looking like a vagrant who's had too much cocaine.”

“Now, that's just unkind.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around his torso. “I'm only joking. You look fine.”

He sighed, twisting his arms around her shoulders. “Still wish you was comin' with me.”

“I am, remember? Right here.” She tapped his chest again. “Besides, you'll be back before sundown, and then we'll be outta here. No more gators and buzzing bugs. Paradise.”

“Right. Mangoes. All that.”

“Exactly. So go on. The sooner you go, the sooner we leave this place.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips, and for a moment, Star wondered if this is what normal couples felt like. Just a wife sending her husband off to work with the dream of a better future. Of course, normal jobs didn't seem quite so harrowing.

They made their way outside where the camp was bustling with activity. Everyone was dressed sharply and mounting up or climbing atop a wagon. Star escorted Bill to the wagon he would be driving, though as she stood there, Charles squeezed her shoulder on his way by and Arthur pat her back with a reassuring smile. She gave them both smiles, then handed Bill's rifle up to him.

“So,” Hosea called, “we rob ourselves a bank, and within six weeks we're living life anew in a tropical idyll, spending the last of our days as banana farmers! Let's get the hell outta this place and rob ourselves a bank!”

With a clamor of whoops and hollers, nearly half the gang rode out of camp, kicking up dust. Just as they disappeared through the trees, Dutch's voice floated back. “This is it, gentlemen! The last one!”

And just like that, Shady Belle fell quiet once more, leaving those left behind with nothing more to do but wait. Ms. Grimshaw made half an effort to convince people to pack up so that they'd be ready to move when it was all said and done, but she didn't take to it with her usual vigor. Everyone was worried, but hopeful.

Star and Sadie kept an eye on the borders of camp, each taking patrol of either side. Without really realizing it at first, Star picked the eastern edge of camp so that she could stare in the direction of Saint Denis as she paced. Of course, for a long while, such an endeavor seemed useless, but when an explosion carried through the air, and a distant pillar of smoke became visible, it no longer felt so.

Ms. Grimshaw came to stand with her, staring in the direction of the smoke. “Must be Hosea's distraction. He is quite the showman.”

Star smiled softly. “You wouldn't guess it just from looking at him.”

“No,” the older woman agreed, “but I have known him for a very long time. He enjoys an artful distraction.” She paused, eyeing Star with a perception that smacked of a mother's. “Don't you worry yourself. They'll be alright. This ain't their first rodeo.”

A small chuckled found its way out of Star's tense frame. “No, I suppose it's not. It's all just kinda new for me, you know? I've only been with you all for a few months, and sometimes I forget the reputation the Van Der Linde Gang had prior to Blackwater going south. Even I had heard a tale or two of your exploits.”

“That right?”

She nodded. “I'm from farther north than you guys ever roamed, but stories travel. Of course, they change every time someone tells it too.”

“Ain't that the truth,” Ms. Grimshaw laughed. “Well, I'll leave ya to your work. Whenever you get hungry, Mr. Pearson made some oatmeal this mornin'.”

“Thank you, Ms. Grimshaw.”

When Star was left alone again, she turned her attentions back to the swamp. The only threat she could see was the monstrous creatures that lurked in the mud and hissed at anything that got too close, but they didn't seem particularly interested in raiding the place. The O'Driscolls seemed to have learned their lesson and stayed away, though they'd done damage enough by taking Kieran. Deep down, Star was looking forward to getting away from here – away from all the bad memories.

Morning turned to afternoon, and as that began to drag on, the fragile confidence that had hung over the camp began to dissipate. Star abandoned her post to find Sadie who was standing near the entrance of the camp, gazing into the trees.

“Don't you think they should've been back by now?” the Lakota woman murmured, trying to keep her voice low enough so that her concerns would not infect the others.

“From what Arthur told me about the plan... yeah. Maybe they just got held up.”

“Maybe. Had to take the long way back to shake followers or something. Still... we should probably get everyone ready to move, in case we need to make a quick exit.”

“Right. I'll see to that. You stay here. Keep an eye out. Holler if you see anything.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Sadie headed into the heart of camp, hurrying people along with the packing. Most of the equipment was good to go, but there were some lingering tasks to be done. Normally, Star would have expected to hear one of the girls grumbling about it, but no one did. The stakes were too high. Even Reverend Swanson had taken to loading things onto wagons.

Afternoon took a turn towards evening, and Star's chest grew tighter as the sky grew darker. The shadows between the trees were becoming harder to see through. The camp behind her was eerily quiet, almost as if they were all straining to hear any sign of the bank party.

When she could no longer see more than fifty yards in front of her, Star pulled back to camp. “Mr. Pearson,” she called quietly to the cook. “Keep the fires small.”

He nodded, but then asked, “Why does it feel like we're expecting to be attacked?”

“Because we don't know what's coming. They should've been back by now. For all we know, the next riders through those trees could be Pinkertons. Let's not give anyone more cause to find us than we must.”

“Star,” Sadie called, waving her over to a secluded spot by the porch.

She jogged to join her friend, and they huddled together in discussion. “Sadie, something isn't right.”

“I agree. We might wanna consider movin' camp.”

“To where? Nobody thought up a contingency plan if everything went pear-shaped.”

“I know, I know,” Sadie sighed, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “Just don't feel safe, stayin' here.”

“You're right. It doesn't.”

In the distance, little Jack asked, “Miss Mary-Beth, where's momma?”

Star and Sadie glanced over to find Mary-Beth's eyes on them as she answered, “Don't you worry about your momma and daddy. They'll be back soon.”

A slight rain had begun to fall, adding absolutely nothing positive to the mood of the place. “What do we do?” Star whispered, almost rhetorically.

Just then, she caught movement in the trees at the entrance of camp. She ran out, gun raised and shouted, “Who goes there?”

“Charles and Abigail!” her chosen brother's voice called back.

The camp burst into noise as everyone rushed the pair who had arrived alone and on foot. “Where is everyone? What's happened?” Ms. Grimshaw cried.

“It went bad,” Charles replied as Abigail rushed forward to pull Jack into her arms. “Pinks and cops everywhere. Hosea's dead. Lenny too.”

Mary-Beth gasped and Karen sighed, “Jesus.”

“John got cuffed and taken away. We don't know where.”

“What about the others?” Pearson asked.

“When I left 'em, Dutch, Bill, Javier, Arthur, and Micah were going to sneak on board one of the docked ships in the harbor. Don't know which one. Don't know where they are or where they're going. It's... it's just us.”

Everyone stood in shocked, grieving silence. Star turned her gaze back towards Saint Denis, fighting the desperate burn of tears around her eyes. I should have gone with him.

“We need to move camp,” Sadie announced decisively. “They're probably lookin' for the rest of us. We got everything pretty well packed, but we gotta find somewhere to go. Me and Charles will ride out in the morning to find a place. Star, you'll stay here to keep an eye on things, and when we find somewhere, we'll come get everyone.”

There were quiet murmurs of agreement and comprehension before what was left of the Van Der Linde gang slowly dissipated to find what sleep and comfort they could.

Charles came to Star, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked, his dark eyes watching her own as she gazed out into the darkness.

“No,” she whispered, her lip quivering. “But I'm not gonna let them see that. Somebody's gotta be strong for these people, and it's gonna have to be me and you and Sadie and Ms. Grimshaw. Otherwise none of us are going to make it.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But maybe they'll be back sooner than...”

“It doesn't matter what may happen. We need to proceed like they're never coming back. Because they just as surely might die wherever it is they're going. We can't rest all our hopes and actions on assumptions that they're coming back. They might as well be dead.”

“Star... he's not dead. Not yet.”

She turned to him, eyes sparkling with tears. “And maybe tomorrow he will be. He's not here. None of them are here. And we have to function without them. So there's no use holding onto hope. Hope has forsaken us.”

With that, she turned and stalked off into the night, unable to bring herself to go to the tent she and Bill shared. Instead, she made her way through the house, up the stairs to the Arthur's room. For a while she stood staring out of the broken window across from the door, then she moved around the room, examining Arthur's belongings. Each one she placed into her satchel. Whether he came back or not, she didn't want to leave them sitting around.

As the exhaustion of the previous sleepless night crashed down on her, Star curled up on Arthur's cot and cried herself to sleep, vowing that in the morning the tears would stop. When she rose the next day, she would be the protector the gang needed her to be. But for tonight, she would mourn her friends and send a hapless, hopeless prayer to the universe to keep the man she loved safe.

[dyinganddice]

Chapter Eight

[Chapter Seven]

Knowing that the webbing was probably still patrolled by an active spider, Baileys sends their unseen servant into the webs to flail about while the party hid towards the side. As the spider peaks over the top of the store wall, Talia launches her spear and two more arrows fly, taking it out right away. Brick excitedly runs off to climb up the side and check out the dead spider as the rest of the group slowly follows after… and then yells that there’s a second spider before dropping down inside. Briar sighs, Baileys facepalms, and the party tries to run after their monk who is now facing off a giant spider alone. Briar and Baileys manage to climb up the wall while Talia and Faelen both find the worst path to attempt to take and fall to the ground instantly. (Both rolled Nat 1s) Between Brick just running and punching the occasional arrows that actually manage to hit, the second giant spider is finally murdered but only after it attempts to run out the front door and scares the shit out of Faelen. The group searches the building and finds some loot, but what seems to be once a general store is mostly webbing now. 

(( OOC: I just have this written down and need to share. “If you peek through the windows when it’s raining, you can see the spiders dancing.” ))

As the group continues to wander through the buildings, Baileys manages to find the necklace mentioned earlier to the others and slip it into their pockets without anyone noticing. When Briar asks them on the way out if they found it, Bailey’s replies with a non-specific answer that manages to pass the bluff test. The two hang back outside while Talia, Brick and Faelen go poke some dead bodies inside the smithery, and of course they jump to life. Defeating them isn’t difficult at all for the team, but when they were killed they dispersed into ash, oddly enough. 

(( OOC Again: We have a point where Talia moved into a corner, and then went off with, “Nobody puts Talia in the corner / She can have a little corner, as a treat.”))

With all the nearby buildings explored, the group starts heading towards the tall tower, hoping the view of the area will help them find a Druid. As they’re wandering up the hill, a few of the team notice that a squirrel was rustling around in the trees nearby, which was weird, as since entering Thunder Tree the group had not found any normal live wildlife running around. Originally assuming that it just means they were finally getting out of the smog of the lower area, the group presses forwards to find some blistered dead giant spiders, (Brick runs over and punches them just to make sure they’re dead, creates a new idiom Beating a Dead Spider.) a broken down stone tower with a cottage off to the side, and an eerie silence once again. Not really having anything else to do, Baileys walks up and knocks on the door of the cottage. 

Something growls, and a younger Green Dragon crawls up the side of the tower and looks down on its visitors. Baileys looks up, and without hesitation politely asks, “Hi, we’re looking for a druid?”

The Dragon growls back, “No druid here, this is my lair.” 

Briar asks “Have you eaten a druid recently?” which causes the creature to laugh very loudly, for very long. Baileys explains that the group was looking for a druid and didn’t mean to disturb it’s lair, so they’ll just be on their way. The Dragon attempts to threaten them, at which none of the group flinches, instead just waves and starts down the hill again. Dragon does not pursue.

On the way down, the squirrel rustling returns, at which Baileys, tired, turns and sarcastically asks it if it’s seen a Druid. The Squirrel replies, “perhaps.” Since this is probably the druid they were looking for, they go on to explain that Qualeen had sent them to find this Druid, at which the squirrel does indeed leap into the path and reveal that he is the druid they were searching for.

The druid gets upset at the group, asking why they came in here, there were signs up front?? (Briar: we can’t read.) He tells us that he’s trying to restore the area, but there’s a dragon Problem (the one we just said hi to.) and a Cultist Problem in two spots and he’s trying to manage both of them, and apparently failing. Briar asks him if he could just leave us directions, but he insists that he needs assistance with at least one of the problems before he can take time to give out directions. The group tries to further question him, but he eventually gets tired, tells them not to set anything on fire, and that he’s going to go keep an eye on the cultists and will meet with them later, before turning into a squirrel and dashing off.

The group stands in the woods and talks about it for a bit. They believe the best bet is to try and convince the Dragon to find a better spot to have a lair somewhere else, as the Dragon seemed willing to discuss things instead of being in simply blast everything mode. That, and they’ve been dealing with cultists a lot recently, a little break would be nice. With a nice grocery list of possible items written up, they head back up to visit the Dragon, having to knock, call for, and casually chatter about the fact they wanted to help the Dragon out right outside the cottage before being invited in. Baileys opens the door and the team walks through the cottage to meet the Dragon perched on the stairs of the tower. They start chatting with the Dragon, letting him know that they had gotten some information on the area while searching the area for their Druid. Briar and Talia tried to tell the Dragon about the area being bad for a dragon to be living in, tower is too small, Baileys went to deceive it into thinking the nearby cultists were going to attempt to use magic on it to control it, and then Faelen spoke from the heart about how much they want to help the one sensible, respectable creature they’ve met out in the wilderness. 

… The Dragon thinks about it, and takes in their words into account… and gives a counter offer. What if they all took care of the cultists… together? 

Not thinking they’d get a better deal, the group takes it, and points the Dragon in the direction of the cultists. The Dragon takes off, and as the party walks in the directions the Druid gave them, start discussing what their actual plans are, since this wasn’t exactly the ending they were expecting. 

Faelen is aware the Dragon is a poison dragon, thus probably would have issue fighting cultists if they’re holed up inside a building. The group decides to set the building on fire to draw them out, despite what the druid insisted (“He made his choice to turn into a squirrel and bugger off.”) and Brick being not quite sure if she could… do, the fire thing again. So Faelen and Briar hide very poorly in some bushes, while Talia, Baileys and Brick go around the back of the cultist building, bust in the door and throw both a funnel of fire as well as a shatter spell within to try to chase the cultists out. The Cultists indeed run out, start with trying to say they never wanted to fight but then switch to fighting, at which point the Dragon descends and does some mad damage. At which point, The Cultists start to insist that they were trying to worship the Dragon and they only wish to appease it. So the Dragon completely murders the rest of them, and the building continues being on fire. 

The Dragon lands, and turns towards the party.

[Chapter Nine]

[snarkythewoecrow]

@heatherica45 and I are back with some more soulmate fun! This is the first part to the series Written in Color, which is based off our story Written in Blue where it’s taboo to have multiple soulmarks and Peter has seven--six platonics and one romantic.

 Peter was sitting on one of the benches outside the compound, his hands cupped in his lap, a small pile of birdseed held between his palms. Small birds, Chickadees, Starlings, and others hopped all over him, pecking at the seeds in his hands.

 Tony had caught him sitting out there before feeding the birds and      never     let him live it down, calling him a Disney Princess. Peter took the teasing in stride, grumbling but not denying it either. Small animals had always loved him. He was always feeding the pigeons when he was on patrol.

 A cool breeze rustled the leaves. It wasn’t the best weather, but it was still nice. The sky was overcast, the temperatures just starting to get chilly enough to need a sweatshirt. It was still comfortable, though.

 He liked being at the compound. It gave him a place to relax and unwind. He didn’t need to worry about people bothering him there or hiding who he was. Tony, Happy, Pepper—they all accepted him for who he was, no matter the number of soulmarks. It was something he didn’t think he’d ever have. He even would go a couple of days not needing to wear any excesses clothes, not having to hide around them.

 A small movement by the end of the bench caught his eye, and he looked over. A chipmunk had gained enough courage to clammer up beside him, sitting with its paws curled at its chest. The corners of Peter’s mouth lifted at the curious expression the chipmunk was giving him. He was about to extend his hand to the little guy when he felt the slight prickling of his senses. He looked around, not seeing anything unusual, but then he heard it. A low hum, barely audible to even him, pulsing through the air. It sounded similar to a quinjet.

 Gently, he shifted and poured the seed onto the bench beside him, causing the birds to scatter and the chipmunk to scurry away back into the grass.

 “Sorry, little ones,” he murmured as they took off.

 He kept an eye on the sky as he made his way to the back of the compound where the landing pad was. If a plane was coming, they'd be heading there. Part of him knew he should head inside, but his curiosity got the better of him, and he soon found himself hiding in the trees overlooking the landing pad.

 The hum grew louder and a plane—no, a jet—appeared, hovering over the landing pad before touching down. It was sleek and black, not much different than one of the quinjets. Peter chewed his lip, hands gripping the bark of the tree in front of him. The jet powered down and the back opened, creating a ramp. He watched the opening, curious who would appear.

 He was shocked by who he saw. It wasn't a government official like he'd thought it might be. No, it was someone much more surprising, someone Peter wasn't entirely sure how to feel about. A bearded Steve Rogers, Captain America, stepped forward, dressed in his uniform, looking just as intimidating as ever.

 Peter kept watching, curious if he was alone. He wasn’t. Something shifted in the shadows behind the Captain, and the man looked over his shoulder. He said something but he was too far away to make it out. A moment later, Natasha Romanov appeared at the Steve’s side. She was dressed like she was on a mission and Peter's mind whirled with possibilities.

 He hesitated, thinking over his options before deciding on a plan. He didn’t know why they were there, but he didn’t fully trust them—not with the people he cared about, especially the ones that he shared marks with. He didn’t want to believe they’d hurt Tony, but it was a chance he didn’t want to take. He knew some bad things had happened between Steve and his mentor. He just didn’t know what.

 Pushing himself from the tree, he walked out of the woods, trying for casual, but knowing he failed. He knew his steps were too calculated and posture too rigid. He couldn’t seem to relax. He barely made it a foot from the treeline before Steve and Natasha turned to him, both straightening their shoulders and narrowing their eyes.

 He tried to will his body to relax, attempting to ease a smile onto his face, but it was a losing battle. He knew his nerves were showing. Taking a steadying breath, he continued walking toward the pair.

 Natasha’s eyes found his and she tilted her head slightly as she studied him. Her stance eased, seeming to have seen something in her assessment. Not looking away from Peter, she whispered something to Steve. The man nodded slowly and raised his chin, looking Peter over as he came closer.

 Once he was nearly there, he plastered on his best smile and met Steve’s gaze. “Oh my god, are you Captain America?”

 Steve eyed him warily as he came to a stop a few paces from the heroes. He glanced at his partner and cleared his throat. “That depends—who are you?”

 Peter grinned, playing up the friendly vibe, hoping to get information. “Peter Parker, I’m one of the interns. What are you doing here?”

 Natasha cocked her head to the side. “What’s an intern doing here?” she shot back. “Why aren’t you at the Stark Industries building?”

 Peter slid his hands into his pockets, fingering the pieces to the web shooters he’d forgotten to leave in the lab. “Tony’s here—I’m his personal intern."

 Steve nodded slowly, like that made sense to him, but Natasha placed her hands on her hips. Peter couldn't help noticing how her fingers brushed over the handles of the knives there. “Why are you here today? I thought he took it off.”

 Peter paused, dragging his eyes away from the knives and to her face. “He did?” His nose scrunched in confusion. “But we always work Fridays.”

 Natasha raked her gaze over him, pausing on May’s mark before exchanging a look with Steve. They shared a silent conversation, ending in mutual nods. Feeling exposed, Peter tugged his sleeve down to cover the chain of lilies, earning a curious look from the assassin. Steve seemed to notice Peter hiding the mark as well, his eyes falling to his wrist.

 Straightening his shoulders, he lifted his chin, trying to project the strength he wasn’t sure he had. Anytime people looked at his marks, it bothered him—even if there was no way they could tell how many he had. It always set him on the defensive.

 Steve frowned at the shift in Peter's body language. "Well, I think we should get on our way. Tony's expecting us."

 "I'll go with you," Peter offered. "I'm his intern, after all."

 Natasha eyed him. "No offense, kid, but this is above your pay grade."

 Peter frowned, about to rebuttal, but before he could undoubtedly talk himself into a corner, Tony's voice shouted across the lawn, making them all look toward the doors. "You’re early."

 Steve drew himself up. “We agreed on today at noon.” He paused to look at his watch. “We’re actually ten mintues late.”

 Tony scrunched his face. “Huh, must have gotten distracted. I thought it was only ten.” He jogged over to them, stopping beside Peter and putting a hand on his shoulder. “You should head inside, kiddo.”

 “But I can—”

 Tony shook his head. "Nope, zip it. Do what I say."  

 Peter scowled, not liking the order but paused to observe him a little closer. He could see his mentor’s jaw twitching, showing his agitation. Whatever was going on, it had him on edge.

 Tony jerked his chin head toward the building when Peter didn’t move. "I'm not playing, Peter. Inside and in your room. I'm sure you’ve got some homework you could do."

 Sighing, Peter glanced at the confused expressions of Steve and Natasha before heading inside.

 "Just an intern?" Natasha asked, cocking her head to the side. "Seemed like a little more than that."

 Tony stiffened. "No idea what you're talking about."

 She hummed. "Maybe not, but I've seen that look before. You were worried about him. Makes me think he's someone important to you." She paused, pursing her lips. "Like a soulmate."

 "Sorry only have two—Pepper and Rhodey," Tony replied. "Now, we ready to take this inside?"

 She studied him for a moment longer. "Interesting."

 Peter sat slouched in his office chair, tapping his fingers on his desk. The clutter spread out over the surface rattled, making him notice that he was putting more force into his ministrations then was necessary.  He pulled his hands away and ran them through his hair, making his chair squeak as he leaned back. He'd done as Tony had asked and gone to his room, but that didn't stop him from worrying why Steve and Natasha were there.

 The last time he'd seen Steve was in Germany. He really didn't think the guy was bad. In fact, he was the furthest thing from it. He wasn’t like Peter with multiple marks. It was in all the history books. Steve only had one soulmate—a platonic that matched his best friend Bucky. He couldn’t help but be a little jealous of how easy it must have been for him growing up.

 An hour past and Peter was beginning to go stir crazy. He was spinning idly in his chair, occasionally pushing off the desk to start his momentum again. He respected Tony and his rules, but he hated feeling confined. He needed to do something.

 Still spinning lazily, Peter called out, "Friday, where's Mr. Stark?"

 "I'm afraid I can't answer that, but if you’d like, I can pass along a message."

 Slowing to a stop, Peter groaned and shook his head. "Don't bother him."

 His stomach took that moment to rumble. Realizing he hadn't eaten since breakfast, he decided it wouldn’t really be breaking the rules if he went to find something to eat, especially since Tony was always telling him to take better care of himself.

 Decision made, he headed out of the room and toward the kitchen.

 There didn't seem to be anyone around, the whole floor was quiet. The lights to the kitchen brightened automatically as he approached.

 He wasn't a great cook, so he decided to stick with something light—a sandwich would do. Opening the fridge, he began pulling out what he needed, pausing to eye the random glitter pen and glue stick someone had left in the produce drawer. He swore he could feel his brain twitch.

 Nudging the fridge door shut with his foot, he turned and dropped his supplies on the counter in a heap. He was to getting out a few slices of bread when he heard someone speak behind him, making him jump, causing him to send the bread flying into the air.

 "This part of your internship?" a smooth voice said.

 Spinning around, he saw Natasha smirking at him. Her arms were crossed over her chest, weight shifted to one hip.

 Peter bent down and grabbed the bread from the floor. "Uh … no? Maybe? I don't know?"

 He almost thought he saw a hint of a smile before her cool mask of indifference returned.

 She tipped her head to the bread in his hands. "You should probably throw that out."

 He nodded, tossing it into the bin. "I thought you had a meeting with Mr. Stark—not that it's my business."

 She shrugged a shoulder and shifted her stance, moving to lean against the counter. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Steve will keep him busy for awhile."

 Peter raised a brow at her. “That sounds vaguely threatening. Were you going for threatening?”

 She tilted her head to the side, the corners of her mouth curling upward. “You’re perceptive.”

 “So, um”—Peter fidgeted, tapping the butter knife on the counter—“are you hungry? There's enough here if you want a sandwich, too.”

 Natasha’s expression softened. “I'm good. I was actually here for something else,” she told him, moving past him and pulling open a drawer.

 Reaching inside, she stretched her arm to the back, pausing for a moment before something clicked. The sound of wood moving against wood made him frown. He had no idea what she was doing. It all became clear though when he saw what she pulled out.

 “Dude—you have a secret stash of chocolate?”

 She nodded, sliding the panel back into place. In her hand was a bag of Lindt chocolate truffles. She dug one out and unwrapped it, taking a small bite.

 She narrowed her eyes as she chewed. “Not a word—understood?”

 Peter nodded quickly a few times. "Yeah, yeah, sure," he agreed. "Didn't see a thing. Totally forgot. What were we talking about again?"

 He was surprised when Natasha laughed. It wasn't fake or forced. It sounded genuine.

 "I like you." She popped the last of the truffle in her mouth, studying him for a moment as she chewed. "Stark must really like you, too."

 His brows pulled together. "What do you mean?"

 She shrugged again, tossing the wrapper in the trash. "Something he said, or should I say, didn’t. He lied to me today—not many people are willing to do that."

 Peter frowned. “Is that strange? He lies about stuff all the time.”

 “True,” she admitted, “but not like this.” Studying him, she twisted another truffle free of the wrapper and offered it to him.

 Peter stared at it for a second before reaching out to take it. He felt her eyes on him as he took a bite.

 “Good?” she asked.

 He chewed and swallowed. “Yeah, thanks.”

 Nodding with satisfaction, she continued, “I think you're more than just an intern to him. I know Tony has three marks.” She informed him. “It was never officially announced, Howard made sure to keep it quiet, but rumors spread. The number of his soul marks got him a lot of bad press and helped earn him his nickname—The Merchant of Death."

 She paused and tilted her head as she observed him. “You see, Pepper confirmed the number to me once, I know he has three, but he lied today when I confronted him—said he only had two. He didn't like it when I suggested that you were his last one."

 Even though he knew Tony meant nothing by it, he still felt a little hurt that Tony had pretended not to be connected to him. The rejection stung—real or imagined.

 It must have shown on his face because Natasha straighten, brows pulling together. "So I was right. You're one of his."

 "What? No. I didn't say that." Peter was quick to respond.

 Her lips pressed together in a line. "You didn't need to. It's written all over your face."

 Peter swallowed. "Uh, maybe I should get back to my room."

 "You're a multiple, at least three."

 Her statement was so sure, so confident that it made him freeze, panic weaving through him, cutting off his breath. There was no way he was going to convince her otherwise. She was the Black Widow. No one kept secrets from her.

 He stumbled back, falling into a defensive stance, his palms sweaty and his heart hammering against his ribcage.

 Natasha's face softened considerably, showing no trace of any anger or disgust. “It's alright,” she said quietly. “I'm not going to hurt you. I would never hurt anyone because of how many soulmarks they have.”

 Peter stared at her, unblinking. His instincts screamed for him to run.

 Her mouth twitched, so slight it was barely visible. He doubted a normal human would have caught it.

 “Are the others still alive?” she asked.

 “What?” Peter croaked, completely caught off guard.

 Natasha hummed, rubbing a thumb over the back of her left hand, drawing his gaze. A faded, scarred over mark marred the skin there. It was so old that the previous image was unrecognizable. “From my experience, people who are multiples lose their mates quickly. You’re still young, but I can tell by your eyes that some have already fallen.”

 He felt himself slipping away. A gunshot and the sound of something falling echoed through Peter's mind, the smell of blood, the sticky texture of it on his hands as he held his uncle. His long cold mark burned like ice.

 Pulling a stubborn breath, he pushed the feeling down and locked it away. “What are you saying?” he asked, blinking, still caught on the shock of her words. “What do you mean, from your experience?”

 The question was redundant. He knew what she was getting at. He recognized the look she was wearing. He saw it reflected back at him every day in the mirror.

 She pulled out another chocolate and started to twist the wrapper around it, her expression conveying in a few simple lines all he needed to know—she saw right through him.

 “I have six,” she informed him bluntly, “but it doesn't matter the amount, not really. Anything above three is monster territory, regardless of intent. I know what you've gone through, and I know that you don't deserve it.”

 Peter’s breath caught in his throat, and he stared at her, gaping, as she bit into the truffle. Stepping forward, she reached out toward him. Peter reacted blindly and brought his palm up to stop her, but before he managed to hit her though, she cupped his cheek. Her thumb rubbed over his cheekbone. She looked at him, her green eyes full of nothing but sympathy and sorrow.

 “I won't tell anyone." Her voice was soft, forgiving. “Tony would only lie if he was protecting someone important—someone he cared about. I won't go between that.”

 Drawing back, she walked passed him and disappeared down the hall. Peter watched her go, his sandwich forgotten.

[lithugraph]

Glory Days

Fandom: Hetalia

Characters: APH Lithuania, APH Prussia, APH Russia

Rating: T

Summary:  Amid a dying empire, nearing the end of the Cold War, Toris and Gilbert listen to Bruce Springsteen on a stolen radio and re-live their own “glory days.”

Written for Pruliet Week 2019, prompt: regret.

This is a work in progress.  I didn’t get it all finished by the deadline, but I figured I’d go ahead and post what I’ve got so far.  I will post the whole fic once it’s done.

April 1986

Toris hated dinner parties.   

He could remember a time when that wasn’t always true.  Could remember a time when he found them enjoyable.  Surrounded by men in furs with swords at their hips, ladies in richly embroidered robes.  Amber light cast by the fire roaring in the castle’s great hall warmed the cold stone and the guests as they conversed, intimate and raucous.  Of course they hadn’t been called dinner parties then.  Banquet or feast would have been more appropriate.  If he closed his eyes, he could sometimes still smell the roasted boar.

As the world lurched ever closer to modernity, these dinners became less celebratory and more formal.  Crystal and porcelain replaced wood and pewter.  Tables grew in length, not to seat more people, but to accommodate the sudden swelling of place settings.  Who decided forks and glassware should come in threes?  What was wrong with a simple knife and fork? Toris sighed, looking around at the feting guests.  That was the thing with being immortal – the catch.  You could always remember a time that was far simpler than the current one.   

But even memories were subject to fault.

Toris’ eyes swept the dining room once more.  At the head of the table sat Secretary Honecker, East German head of state.  To his right, Secretary Gorbachev.  Next to him, of course, sat Ivan.  Other East German Politburo members and their wives rounded out the gathering.  Ivan had gone over their names during their flight from Moscow to East Berlin, but Toris was too preoccupied with not throwing up as the plane dipped and climbed during its turbulent trip.  

 They were there for the eleventh congress of the Socialist Unity Party.  Well, Ivan was.  And Gorbachev.  Toris was brought along to act as Ivan’s security detail.  As always.  

Even at the dinner party.  He kept to the room’s perimeter. Occasionally stealing a moment to check the rest of the house for “threats.”  Really it was a chance to sneak a shot of vodka or a quick smoke.  There was no need for additional security.  The Waldsiedlung compound, which housed the most senior state leaders, had that covered. Nicknamed Wandlitz after the nearby town, the compound existed as its own walled utopia in the lush forests north of East Berlin.  In addition to the wall that, Toris thought, greatly mimicked the much larger one surrounding West Berlin, troops from the Stasi’s paramilitary wing kept the grounds under tight guard.  Didn’t want ordinary East German citizens discovering what luxuries their leaders indulged in.  Even Toris managed to relax a little as he and Ivan secretly enjoyed the amenities of the elite – tennis courts and a shooting range, a cinema and department store that only sold Western goods.  Ivan was bound to denounce it all the moment the dinner ended and they were on their way back to the guest house, but Toris saw the smile spreading across his lips as he did backstrokes in the pool that afternoon.

“Join me for a smoke?” a voice said from behind, making Toris jump.

“Dammit, Gilbert.”  

The Prussian’s face appeared in his periphery.  Toris could practically feel the grin radiating off him.

“Is that a yes?”

Toris feigned disinterest.  “We’re supposed to be on duty.”

Gilbert clicked his tongue.  “Like that’s stopped you.”

Toris watched him from the corner of his eye.  

“C’mon, Liet.  Two of my guys can cover for us.  ‘Sides, I got something I know you’ll like.”

“And what might that be?”

 “You’ll have to come with me, to find out,” Gilbert teased.

Toris took another look at the guests.  Everyone was deep in conversation – talking, smiling, enjoying their drinks.  Even Ivan.

Gilbert nudged his shoulder.

“All right,” Toris whispered.

The Prussian’s grin widened. He signaled behind him.  Two guards appeared, as if condensing from the surrounding air.  Toris shuddered, glad the light was dim, and followed Gilbert out.  

Wispy clouds streaked the evening sky, pulling their veil over the setting sun, its ember glow softening in pale oranges and purples.  The black pavement shimmered beneath in bronze and silver.  A rainstorm had passed while they’d been inside. A damp chill hung in the air.  

Gilbert lit a cigarette the moment his foot was outside.  He handed Toris his pack and lighter.

“Marlboros.”

“Only the best Western tobacco for our glorious Eastern leaders,” Gilbert said sardonically.  “Let’s go for a walk.”

Gilbert shoved his hands in his pockets, only to pull them out moments later to return a salute from a couple of passing guards.

“Fuck,” he muttered, shoulders rounding.  The spark that lit his face the dining room had noticeably dimmed. And Toris knew why.

Gilbert had been put in charge of his government’s secret police.  A role he never much relished but one he carried out as only his duty-bound nature would allow.  And it was the only way to ensure his cooperation.  Gilbert was not like the other satellite states.  Whereas Erzsebet and Feliks were content to live the proletarian life among their citizens, Gilbert was the perpetual soldier.  He needed structure, command, discipline, or else his misdirected energy would have erupted in chaos. Therefore, the only way to keep him in check was to grant him some measure of power, perverse as it was.  

They walked on a few silent moments.  The streets were deserted, save for them.  Everyone was at the dinner party.

The street ended at an intersection, beyond which stood a small forest.  A path was just visible through the opening in the trees. Gilbert made his way toward it. Toris followed, tossing away his cigarette, drawing a deep breath the moment he was under tree cover.  A wistful smile crossed his face as he gazed up at the canopy above.  A cathedral of wood and greenery.  The branches like rib vaulting.  The leaves like stained glass.  

An even light lit the forest as twilight fell.  The shadows of night had yet to emerge as they traipsed through the undergrowth.  All evidence of suburban paradise faded away.  No streets, no lights, no houses.  Toris felt himself grow taller with each stride.  His stretched, back straightening with another slow inhale. He removed his cap, scratching his fingers over his scalp as locks of brown hair, free from their binding, tumbled down around his face.

Gilbert came to a halt and turned.  A dark green wall stood in front of them, nearly camouflaged by the undergrowth. It stretched in either direction, running the perimeter of the forest.  

“I’m surprised Ivan didn’t have you cut it,” Gilbert said, gesturing at the Lithuanian’s hair.

“He’s mentioned it.  Several times.”

Gilbert smirked.  “He likes it too much.”

Toris glanced away.  Suddenly the forest canopy seemed a whole lot closer.  The tall feeling he’d had moments before was fading.

“If all you wanted was a smoke and to talk about my hair, we could have stayed at the house.”

Gilbert dropped his cigarette.  It hissed out on the wet ground.

“Why’d you drag me out here?” Toris pressed.

“I thought you’d like the walk.”  Gilbert shrugged.  “Or maybe I’m just…sick of walls.”  He aimed a petulant glare at the one in front of them. “You and I — we’re not made to be kept inside.  We need this.”  Eyes lifted heavenward, to the cathedral of leaves. “You felt it, didn’t you?”  An earnest look, almost pleading.  “It feels right.  Being out here.”

“Yes,” Toris said softly.  “But things are different now.”

Gilbert sniffed, wiping the back of his hand across his nose.  The curve of his cheek glistened.

A gentle wind tugged at their uniform sleeves.  A subtle reminder.  They really ought to return.

Toris tucked his hair back under his cap.  Gilbert kicked the wall with the toe of his boot.  Above them, the leaves twisted and swayed like hands, inviting.

They left the woods in silence. Toris felt himself catapulted back to the present the moment they emerged.  Houses and cars – all of suburbia – screamed at him under the electric glare of streetlights.

Gilbert fished his last cigarette out of his pocket.  They shared it as they walked along the empty street, their booted heels scuffing the pavement.  Neither was in any hury to get back.  

“I got a new radio,” Gilbert said.

“Oh?  And what did that cost you?” Toris asked, thinking of the Western store in the village 

Lips unwound in a mischievous grin – one that revealed he had not paid a cent for his new radio.

“You’re despicable.”

Gilbert waved the comment away.  “They were a couple of Wessies.  Students. Tryin’ to sneak stuff in for black market sales.”  

“Hm.  I’ll bet they shit themselves silly.”

“You have no idea.  I swear, border patrol beats the hell out of this state dinner crap any day.”

Gilbert finished the cigarette as they reached the house.  “You should come over.  We could listen to it.  That is, if you can ditch dear old Vanya.”

Toris glanced at the door.  The sound of a piano and singing could be heard.

“Shouldn’t be a problem.”  

Ivan was most likely a few drinks in by this point, Toris thought.  He would be useless in the morning.

“Tomorrow, then?”

Gilbert grinned.  “Tomorrow.”

.

 .

 . 

Toris paced in front of the guest house gates, half expecting to be summoned back any moment.  A part of him hoped it would happen.  Except Secretary Gorbachev was not likely to need him for anything.  Besides, the Secretary preferred to use his own men.  Toris was only there because of Ivan.

He looked back over his shoulder, back at the guest house.  Did anyone even care he wasn’t there?  Ivan hardly noticed his extended absence last night.  And the Russian was deep asleep when Toris checked that morning.  He knew from past experiences that Ivan would keep to his room the day after any celebration.  But that knowledge did nothing to allay the twisting in the pit of his stomach.    

Toris drank a cup of coffee before leaving.  The serving staff paid him no mind as they bustled about their morning routines.  He learned long ago to move with a sense of purpose and power to negate suspicion.  Back straight.  Eyes forward. Head level.  People were less likely to bother you if you looked like you couldn’t be bothered with them.  It granted a certain degree of anonymity, a freedom to come and go as he pleased.  It was a power Toris knew not to abuse.  And he was all too aware of how suspicious he might look, standing outside the guest residence, if Gilbert didn’t hurry the fuck up and show soon.

At that moment, the hammering sound of an engine could be heard echoing in the still morning air.  Toris glanced back at the house, sure the racket was bound to bring someone outside.  None emerged.

A car appeared at the end of Tschaikowskistrasse.  The yellowing color of spoiled milk, it rattled toward the guest house gate.

Gilbert pulled up, grinning from the driver’s side window.

“What took so long?” Toris hissed.

“I had to make a pit stop,” Gilbert said, motioning at the back seat.  On it rested a case of beer.  “I doubt Ivan let you bring anything.”

Toris shook his head.  “It wouldn’t have been good anyway.”

“Trust me, this is not my best work either.  Are you gettin’ in or what?”

The engine gave a loud clank.

“Is it…safe?”

“Only the GDR’s very best,” Gilbert smirked, thumping a hand on the side of the car.

Toris opened the door and slid in, wincing as his knees knocked into the dashboard.  He and Gilbert sat shoulder to shoulder in the tiny, two door coupe.

Again Toris looked at the house, his gut churning with excitement and nerves.  

“Everything okay?” Gilbert asked.

“Yeah – no.  Fine.  It’s fine. Could we just go already?”

Gilbert shifted the car into gear. “You didn’t clear it with him, did you?”

“I shouldn’t have to,” Toris muttered.

“You want a beer?”

Toris reached in the back, popping the top off a pilsner as the car drove from the guest house.

“I miss that farmhouse ale you used to make,” Gilbert said.

“…So do I.”

.

.

.

Notes:

The title is in reference to the Bruce Springsteen song “Glory Days”

Waldsiedlung was the secure housing zone for leaders of the GDR.  Nicknamed Wandlitz for the village nearby, the people of East Germany had no idea it existed or what luxuries their leaders lived in.  It was surrounded by a fence proclaiming it to be a wildlife research facility.  There was an interior wall beyond that.  The community had, among other things, a cinema, restaurant, and department store that specialized in selling western goods.  It was guarded by the paramilitary unit of the Stasi (East German secret police).

The official guest house of the GDR was called Niederschoenhausen.  Located in the Pankow district of East Berlin, it was the former Baroque palace of Schoenhausen.

Gil’s car is of course a Trabi (Trabant)

Lithuanian farm house ale - there’s a great beer brewing tradition in Lithuania that, until recently, has largely gone unnoticed by the rest of the world.  During Soviet occupation, beer, like everything else, was heavily relegated and home brewing was outlawed.  

[inshadowofthegods]

Plans

It was late in the morning by the time Edan woke, roused by the groggy cries of one of the nocturne hatchlings. He hurried to his feet and scooped the infant up, attempting to soothe it before it woke the rest of the house. After a few minutes of bouncing, and then simply shoving some food in its mouth, the nocturne calmed and settled in his arms. Maybe I should make breakfast, he thought, pacing the room on his hind legs. He peered into the new room to check on Saerun, who had indeed stayed for the night. She was sleeping, though she didn’t exactly look peaceful, with her brow furrowed and mouth pulled into a grimace. A pitiful sight. The rest of the hatchlings still slept, unperturbed by the earlier fussing from the one he carried.  Rorin and Ila were still in their beds, and Solveig was… Gods damnit. “Where the hell did you go this time?” Edan hissed under his breath, casting another look through the house before switching to his second sight, and letting out a relieved sigh at the heat signature just outside the building. “You really had me worried again for a second there,” he stated, shutting the door behind himself and heading over to the pearlcatcher. “Sorry,” Solveig bowed their head, offering a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t stay asleep. I didn’t want to wake anyone, so I thought I’d head outside and sort the wood we have left.” “You should probably head inside and try to get a bit more rest,” Edan frowned, looking over the pearlcatcher’s bloodshot, heavy-lidded eyes. “You look like hell.” “Maybe…” Solveig admitted. “But it looks like everyone else must be waking up by now.” “No, it’s just me and… this one,” Edan replied, looking down at the hatchling leaned against his shoulder. “Ila said she was naming that one Hazel.” “She named them all already?” “I assume so. I don’t know the others, though. That’s the name I heard before Ror came to get me.” “Hm, Hazel. Hello, Hazel,” Edan held the hatchling out, looking it over. It let out a delighted trill and attempted to grab onto his face. He let it pull on his frill as he turned to look back at the pearlcatcher. “So. Sol, a lot has been going on recently. Even these kids would be a lot to deal with. I appreciate all the work you’re doing, but you need to rest. So go inside, lie down, and I’ll set some breakfast up.” It was a nicely-worded order, but an order nonetheless. Solveig stared for a moment, then let out a strange sort of half chuckle and turned, heading toward the door. “Alright, Edan.” The pearlcatcher had already flopped into bed by the time Edan made it inside, and had started lightly snoring by the time he had started to cook anything. Edan sighed, silently chastising himself for not making sure the others were looking after themselves better. With all the literal infants showing up, it was easy to forget that everyone else was still young, too. “Do you need any help?” came a quiet voice from over his shoulder. Edan jumped, but managed not to shout in alarm. He turned to look at Ila, who had managed to tiptoe all the way to him without his noticing. “…Yeah,” he replied, tipping the contents of his pan onto a plate. “This was for Sol, but they’re passed out, so just have some yourself and give the rest to the other hatchlings when it’s cooled off. Also, poke Rorin awake. I’m working on food for us next.” “Why don’t I just wake Sol up?” she asked, eyeing him quizzically. “They just were up,” Edan replied with a shrug. “They were outside. I made them go back to bed.” “Hmm,” Ila cast a scrutinizing look at their sleeping sibling. “Okaaay…” She stood there for a while as Edan cooked, quietly eating and occasionally blowing on the food to cool it down. Eventually, she spoke up once more. “Edan?” “Hmm?” the mirror grunted in response, flipping his steak. “Do you think Sol’s been acting kind of weird recently?” “I…” Edan began, pondering it for a moment. “Well. How ‘bout you tell me.” “But I’m asking you!” she replied, frowning. “You’ve known Sol all your life,” Edan replied. “You’d know better than me. I’ve always had some trouble figuring them out.” “Well…” Ila sighed. “Yeah, they’ve been kind of weird recently. I think.” “Is there something you think I should do?” Edan asked, turning to look at the nocturne, pan in his hands. “I don’t know if there’s really anything to be done,” Ila replied, wrapping her arms around herself. “I can’t even really say what’s different, aside from them being more. Like. Distant. I guess I’m just worried.” “None of us have had any time to act normal,” Edan replied. “I’m worried too. But we just have to keep on going until… until we do. I feel like I’m gonna jinx myself saying this, but things can’t stay this crazy for much longer.” On that note, one of the other hatchlings began to whine, and soon the whole pile was awake and crying out. Ila rushed off without another word, sitting and gathering the three nocturnes into her lap to feed. Edan watched with quiet amusement as she succeeded in getting them to take bites from the plate, and began to praise them in baby talk. “So, Solveig told me you’ve named them all?” he asked, before pointing a thumb at the hatchling still perched on his shoulder. “I know this one is Hazel.” “Yep!” Ila replied, pointing from hatchling to hatchling. “There’s Clade, Espen… and the one that keeps falling over is Marshall.” “…He’s not balancing? That’s kind of worrying.” “No, I mean, he’s a lot… rounder than the other ones so when he stumbles he kinda just starts rolling.” Edan snorted, shaking his head. “Hope he grows out of it.” The fire-eyed pearlcatcher hatchling toddled out from the side room, making a beeline toward Ila and her plate. Saerun followed shortly after, blanket securely wrapped around her shoulders. She sat down a fair distance away from Ila, keeping an eye on the young pearlcatcher. “Good morning,” Ila greeted, smiling brightly at the skydancer. She didn’t seem to know how to respond. “I expected you to sleep longer,” Edan remarked, taking an apple from one of his shelves in one hand, and a plate for Rorin in the other. He passed by the mirror first, nudging him awake with his foot and dropping the plate next to him. “No, I was lying awake for a little while before now,” she replied quietly, looking down. “I’ve always been a light sleeper.” “I see,” Edan replied slowly, sitting down across from her and offering the apple. “Well, if you heard Ila listing off the kids’ names that’ll save us some time.” “I did,” she replied, a slight smile on her face at his comment as she accepted the fruit. “Alright, so that leaves Ila,” Edan began, gesturing to the nocturne. “It’s very nice to meet you,” Ila greeted warmly, offering a small wave between keeping the four hatchlings that were currently swarming her balanced. “And the other mirror is Rorin.” Rorin groggily waved, sitting up and squinting blearily. “And the pearlcatcher over there who’s still sleeping is Solveig,” Edan finished, gesturing toward them before looking back to Saerun. “They’re the one who healed you before we brought you here.” Saerun cast a long, considering gaze at the sleeping pearlcatcher. She then took a bite out of her apple, looking between him and the ground. “We couldn’t find the rest of your arm,” Edan continued. “You didn’t lose it there, did you?” “No.” “Where did you? And how did it happen? Was it a creature, or a dragon?” “I don’t remember - I didn’t even feel it happen. I really… don’t want to talk about it.” “I’m not expecting you to go into detail - “ Edan began, but stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, Saerun, all I need to know is if someone is looking for you. You said you weren’t safe, and if there’s a dragon after you we need to prepare for that.” Saerun looked ill, wrapping her arms around herself and pulling the blanket tighter. “…Yes, it’s other dragons. A group,” she relented. “If they did this to me… they probably think I’m dead by now. But they might be looking for Ciron.” “Damnit. Then… you’re both going to stay inside for now,” Edan frowned. “What should we expect if we run into one of them?” “They’ll come off… normal, friendly. And they’ll say they need help,” Saerun replied, her voice bitter. “If you turn them down, they’ll turn violent.” “Edan and I can keep watch,” Rorin assured, now quite awake and eager to calm the skydancer’s fears. “We can see things way before they see us - unless they’re mirrors too, anyway.” “No. Mostly pearlcatchers,” Saerun replied quietly. “How far… where are we, anyway? How far did I run?” “You’re in Dragonhome, the far Southeast of it,” Edan replied, silently musing on how to handle the situation. He wasn’t as hopeful as Rorin seemed to be. “Then… they’d be coming from the South,” Saerun rubbed her shoulder. “Cusp of the Tangled Wood and Plaguelands.” Edan was silent for a time, forcing himself to eat in spite of feeling quite ill at that point. Finally, he stood and nodded to Rorin. “Okay so, we’re going to patrol, get ready,” he ordered, then turned to Ila. “And you’re going to look after everyone while we’re gone, alright? I’ll sweep everywhere around the house first, but if someone comes, don’t say anything about Saerun or Ciron.” “Of course I wont,” Ila replied, clearly offended he felt the need to say that. The mirror shook his head, grabbed his cleaver and satchels, and headed for the door. What he really needed was time to clear his head.