#granted he thinks shes on the wrong side and need coercion

[low-po1y-princess]

do you ever think about how olly folded olivia to help him conquer the world but never calls her his cohort or sidekick. he specifically calls her sister. he refers to himself as olivia's brother. he sees her as an equal and a companion, not a minion. do you ever think about that. do you

[pooopopop]

https://www.tumblr.com/pooopopop/723017441544912896/where-she-gives-you-advice-on-how-to-do-that-if

She literally said “it may be worth exploring” — again with the bad faith reading! Honestly just seems like you have a dislike for Vicki, which doesn’t seem particularly fair when you don’t know her personally as a whole (none of us do!) or even as much of a public figure (since she’s so private). Meanwhile Misha is his own separate person, projecting another onto him isn’t fair either especially considering they’re divorced now.

Do you know how manipulation works? People push boundaries with plausible deniability. The girl asking is making her position and feelings crystal clear and her boyfriend is entirely in the wrong but Vicki takes his side and tells her that she’s lying to him about not missing out and that if she really loved him she would consider it. She’s only pretending to let that girl set her own terms. It’s so stupid how you people defend misha’s role in karla by saying he was exploited by the director when he is the one that read that script and chose to go after that role, but you refuse to recognize blatant coercion and predatory behavior that is encouraged by that entire book, a book which misha was proudly advertising up until their divorce. vicki is only private now since misha became a celebrity. In her publications and interviews she says that they moved to los Angeles for HER. Personally I don’t think it’s unfair to hold her and misha accountable for the stuff that they participated in and condoned. I think it’s actually really important to recognize that because he’s a celebrity with a position of power over all of his fans. When Vicki was apart of gish, one of their “challenges” was for female members to take pictures of themselves in their underwear. He constantly used pet names and gave I-love-yous to members. The two 19 year olds he tried to fuck despite being less than half his age is probably one of the most depraved instances we have record for but there have been rumors about some of the women that went to Haiti with him, too. The genesis of random acts was literally him meeting a fanfic writer at a convention who he befriended, then employeed to try to get a government grant, and he has bizarrely used destiel flirt with fans ever since. You remember that “I’m all three” video? Why the fuck did he walk into a room full of women and asked if any of them were bisexual? Totally unprompted. you need to be more skeptical of your blorbo. He’s got a record of getting drunk and then handsy with his fangirls.

[welcome-to-oslov]

I'm currently re-reading All Kinds of Broken from the beginning and it's even richer (ofc as sad and brilliant!) on a second read. (And I'm THRILLED you reassured us that we still have a long time in the timeline and many chapters to go!)

One thing I noticed this time around was the couple of times people noticed it was wrong Malsha was keeping someone so young - for example:

Gersha went home and had to talk himself out of hacking the system to look up Malsha's piece's age b/c he was afraid he'd confirm he was just 16 or 17 and then what (weak Gersha from the beginning).

Malsha's daughter (daughter in law?) angrily told him "maybe you'd be a more helpful grandfather if you weren't spending your time fucking children."

Granted she then spoke extremely dehumanizingly to young Tilrey, and Gersha himself chickened out from helping the boy he'd felt so concerned about (in fact, ultimately made his concern all about himself i.e. "what did Malsha see in me, did I lead him on" just like he annoyingly did throughout ASB & beyond in the face of Tilrey's genuine troubles 🙄).

In this kettle boy system, *was* Tilrey younger and/or clearly more vulnerable (by how scared/sad everyone saw he was) than society generally felt acceptable for this role?

Do you think there were any others in power off-screen who were disturbed by what Malsha did? (Albertine Linnett later felt bad & claimed Fir Jena had felt guilty-ish.) Clearly many in power were thrilled to partake (probably people who shared Malsha's taste for reluctance/vulnerability are who he passed Tilrey to first; far later in Tilrey's journey as he masked up more I suppose others could enjoy themselves as they told themselves Tilrey "deceived" them into thinking he was fine, as Gersha infuriatingly said). Even stupid Vera loved to lie to herself about Tilrey being fine, taking in then brushing off each time she heard/saw from (even from him!) about his difficult past.

A few not-in-power did feel bad, saw the Tilrey situation wasn't right, and/or tried to help to an extent (Bror, Artur, a tiny bit of Krishna, etc.). But I'm curious about your thoughts about the high-level society who we maybe don't see on screen.

Good question! In terms of age alone, Ansha is only slightly older than Tilrey (I think 19, with a mention of how he was the youngest kettle boy until Tilrey arrived). So 18 isn't illegal or considered out of bounds, but there are elites who would disapprove.

The closest parallel in our world might be celebrities who date much, much younger people, even teenagers. A few decades ago, that was more accepted than it is now. Some people might find it creepy, while others might see it as totally natural for powerful people (usually men). But most people would shrug it off and assume that it was okay as long as the younger partner was technically of age and consenting. People knew that grooming, power imbalance, and coercion existed, but they chose to overlook a lot of that because, well, power makes the world go round. And observers can always tell themselves that the younger, more vulnerable person will be better off in life thanks to their powerful partner.

That's basically the Oslov attitude. If the person is 18 (the legal age of consent), they assume the person is consenting—if that person is a Laborer. Now, if a very young high-named Upstart starts dating a much older Upstart, which is what happened with Adelbert and Malsha, the young person's family might well be upset and see the relationship as coercive. But most Upstarts don't see young Laborers as sensitive or in need of protection.

So a lot of Upstarts would side-eye the relationship without actually saying or doing anything about it. Many of them would see Tilrey's consent as a given because how could anyone not consent to such a beneficial step up in life? But for their own kids, they would have a whole different standard.

[sakkac]

re: fumetsu no anata e as of chapter 139.2

this started as a response to @bestbonnist​‘s post on chapter 139.2 but now i’m just dissecting differences and similarities between tonari, mizuha, and kahak like im writing an essay for a uni class. i interchangeably use he/they pronouns for fushi and my writing may be clumsy (bc im not actually writing for uni ❤️).

mizuha is a broken mirror to tonari (and kahak a foil to the two aforementioned) in this modern-day arc, especially in their expressions of love for fushi. tonari’s love for fushi is aged over hundreds of years and mizuha’s, at first glance, is an infatuation just based on how long they’ve known each other. im the biggest kahak stan ever, but even i understand kahak’s love started as an infatuation for parona’s form. though, i’d consider the word infatuation compromised when it comes to defining mizuha’s love, bc u cant be sure if her love for fushi is entirely her own, seeing as it had been passed from generation to generation of guardians.

(chapter 134, read right to left)

tonari and mizuha aren’t that different once you look deeply into the both of them. mizuha’s personality and actions are factors in tonari’s dislike of her, but what ultimately repels tonari from mizuha is that she knows they’re similar, and that manifests most clearly in how she reacts to fushi being with mizuha. i.e. resenting fushi for using her friends’ vessels to help their “love life” in chapter 135.5. she can’t stand mizuha bc mizuha is able to express her love for fushi and fushi does not reject (or accept) it; tonari still hasn’t fully admitted to herself that she likes fushi romantically (perhaps because she can’t separate it from the devotion that led her to harden her body to poisons and to promise her corpse to rest at fushi’s feet), so seeing mizuha appear to progress further than she has irritates her. as for kahak, tonari only has the biases of the other pseudo-immortals and her own of past hayase reincarnations to rely on. (this is not as plot-related, but these two also both like books. kahak read tonari’s fushi book, so i wish they actually met, but in a world where tonari didnt hate hayase beyond death.)

tonari as a child seemed like she thought herself superior to others, perhaps a natural result of her upbringing. she was raised on a prison island, but she herself never committed any crime; banding together w other kids like her, writing about her life in her book (which keeps her separate from or above others in a way). but this thinking ceases at her relationship w fushi. however, i believe this started before they even met. tonari’s childhood dream at seven years old was to write a book her father would be impressed by. she also used to believe in god, while her family was still whole. she even prayed to god when he decided to participate in the tournament in chapter 35. however, she stops referring to god by the time her father had shown tarnish. coincidentally, she meets fushi, who would “upend everything... jeannanda and [her] fate.” she ends up, instead of writing for her father, writing a book to allow a peaceful existence for fushi for whenever they decided to come back. this act shows that the adult tonari has written fushi to a level above her, out of her reach. 

(chapter 35)

here i’ll quote ray’s words about kahak and tonari: “she also has a surprising amount in common with Kahaku, too, with the ‘I want to protect you even if you disagree.’” the way tonari had waited and honed her body for fushi resembles kahak’s attachment; she had finished living for herself, so now she was only allowing herself to live to further create an ideal vessel for fushi (which also brings up one of hayase’s goals). the difference is that kahak lived for fushi because, as raikkousaki said, fushi was the only thing he was “ALLOWED to live for.” however, while tonari is unquestionably devoted to fushi now, what pulled her to him was black hood’s coercion. as a result of black hood’s words to her, she manipulated fushi into helping her solve her problems, to save her from the island. this first “meeting” also revealed that she was attracted to their white hair; she later admits that she admires their fair skin, contributing to the idea that she could view fushi as the equivalent of a god or at the least, a vision of purity (which is :/ imo, bc of her dark skin). we should also keep in mind that, this, technically her first impression of fushi, and his later display of violent immortality in the arena would further his image as a “legend.” 

mizuha was exposed to fushi’s immortality and reveres him like tonari and kahak respectively do and did. instead of the specific word “legend,” it’s “immortal monster.” her first formal exposure to fushi’s fabled power was not unlike tonari’s, since mizuha had went into her grandfather’s library and read on fushi in chapter 124.1. after this, she manipulates fushi to save her, again paralleling the beginning of tonari’s relationship with fushi, but it’s from her overbearing mother and herself. both tonari and mizuha forced their problems onto fushi, but mizuha doesn’t have black hood stepping in front of her saying “you must lead him.” instead, she may have been influenced by the left hand, but i believe mizuha’s thoughts are majorly her own (left hand lies in wait within mizuha’s consciousness like a predator), and what they appear to say is that she’s leading fushi until he decides to follow her willingly. as for kahak, we only have a few pages on his childhood and what we can make of it and of his actions as an adult is that he was willing to follow fushi wherever they went, until left hand betrayed them both.

mizuha’s superiority complex comes from a different place than young tonari’s; she was a prestigious child from young, in addition to her fear of her uniqueness fading as she aged. this caused her to feel separate from other children. when she meets fushi, she sees how different he is from everyone else and uses subtle ways to keep him with her, while never directly admitting she wants him to stay with her, except for ch 125′s “i’m scared. stay with me tonight,” after her mother’s sudden murder. she usually uses excuses instead, like cutely demanding fushi to walk with her after school and go on dates with her.

(chapter 36 vs. chapter 128.2)

as fushi was introduced to the people around tonari and mizuha, they received similar reactions, i.e. “your hair is so pretty!” and “woah, his hair is white!” in the pages following these, the similarities continue into tonari and mizuha gaining ownership over fushi: in ch 36 oopa declares “tonari found him. so he belongs to tonari,” while the islanders try to get on fushi’s good side, and in ch 128 fushi goes out of their way to ask which club mizuha belongs to when asked to join a club (vocalizing her claim on them so she doesn’t have to directly do so).

(chapters 38, 106, and 139)

when the opening comes for mizuha to actually admit her feelings in chapter 139, she tries, but demands instead, “so... love me.” this recalls kahak’s confession to kai in 105.3, that he wants to “protect fushi’s humanity.” kahak and mizuha were both covered in blood when they spoke, but the atmospheres and characters are different; mizuha is clever w her words, but still too immature to let go of her pride, whereas kahak was the exact opposite. he rid of himself of his pride for fushi when he was a child, but said a lot of the wrong things to fushi when it came down to it. additionally, mizuha, when she wants something, she’ll phrase her words so that it seems like there’s only one choice: to follow her. this has been the case for others including fushi (chapters 120.2′s testing of hanna with “if i died, would you cry for me?” and 132.1′s “i’ll teach you about love” and the following guilt-trip). tonari is more direct with her words and meaning than either mizuha or kahak, bc of her personality. she directly confronts fushi when she realizes he had felt betrayed by her in chapter 38, because she still needed him for his plans. but mizuha is more direct with her actions; in chapter 129.1, she latches herself onto fushi, while trying to get information out of him. after the failed marriage proposal, rather than physically attaching himself to fushi like mizuha, kahak used acts of domesticity and protection to subtly appeal to and maintain his space next to them.

(chapter 38 vs chapter 139)

tonari’s “there are people in this world who are better off dead” above isn’t far from the knockers’ reasoning behind “wishing for death is paramount to being dead” and the reason for mizuha’s mother’s death: left hand decided to “eliminate the cause of [mizuha’s breaking point’s] stress.” what this shows is that tonari can also justify murder, though granted, this is from a hundred chapters ago. however, this black and white thinking comes back in the modern era where tonari holds prejudice against mizuha because of her relation to hayase. tonari knows her dislike of mizuha is unfair, she can’t get around it. tonari is still as prideful as she was when she lived on jeannanda; it’s just that she is able to use fushi to justify her opinions now. i also want to bring up mizuha’s reaction to her mother’s death and funa’s knocker’s “purging and guidance.” mizuha seems comfortable with the sight of death, despite having a more normal childhood than tonari, because her actual main concern overwhelms it; she is always thinking on how she can appeal to fushi (almost like kahak), or in other words, how to salvage her pride. so instead of being concerned over being the actual murderer, she is concerned with appearing as a murderer to fushi.

so to actually answer ray’s question, objectively, tonari’s love is as excessive as kahak and mizuha’s. but personally, i think tonari’s love for fushi right now is also unhealthy, though it comes out of good will. kahak’s love also ended in fushi’s benefit, but it was undoubtedly unhealthy. and ofc, mizuha’s love is also unhealthy; she reaches for fushi for perfection, tonari reaches for fushi for humility.

[spaceskam]

Him. (the werewolf au)

warning: mild sexual content, guns, hunting, daddy issues

ao3

Alex Manes did not get along with other human beings. It was a simple fact.

He'd known he was different from a very young age because of this one little fact. It meant he got in fights at school. It meant he didn't listen. It meant he was deliberately rude. He didn't mean to come off so horrible, but he learned it was the only way to get people to leave him alone. If he was an asshole and perceived dangerous, they’d leave him alone.

Another one of those little things he did as a kid to make him unapproachable was spend his free time in the woods, usually with his grandmother who lived in a cabin deep in the trees. While normally, in any other place, that wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe that’d make him a person to bully, but here it just made him that much more of an obvious outcast that people didn’t even want to associate with negatively.

According to the hunters' legend, the wolves that populated the woods outside of Roswell weren’t quite... normal. They were larger than normal, more violent, more deadly. They were the wolves, yes, but also not. Whispers were spread from generation to generation about how everyone should be wary of people they didn’t know well enough; you never knew who wasn’t quite who they claimed to be. Alex thought it was funny to play right into that idea.

His grandmother, before she’d died, had been the only sane one. She’d learned to fend for herself, growing her own food and hunting deer and using every part of the animal to avoid going into town. She was completely self sufficient where she lived in the middle of the woods and not once had she ever had a negative encounter with those supposedly vicious wolves. She was more reliable than the hunters and their tall tales, Alex deduced, and had been living in her old cabin since he was 16.

It wasn’t that easy, though. His father was still the leader of the group of hunters that ran the town and made it their mission to go out into the woods once a month and try to kill one of those wolves. They usually succeeded. It was a carnal, horrific act that was meant to be applauded, parading these dead animals around after they’d killed them and insisting that they were in some way human and not caring. Alex hated it.

And yet he was still a Manes man. His brothers still came to him for deer meat and kept him up to date on town gossip. His father still stopped by and made it clear that people spoke negatively about him and that he should join the hunt. After all, he was skilled gunman, he’d be good at it. But Alex denied.

On the few occasions that he did go into town–whether it be for things like soap or just simply a man to warm his bed for the night–people stared. The Manes boy who went wrong, the Manes boy who was one of them, the Manes boy who had somehow made it to the age of 26 without caving under his father’s iron rule. He’d be lying if he said that didn’t make him feel powerful.

“Don’t you get lonely?” Forrest asked. He was nice and he was cute and he didn’t judge Alex, always being open to make the drive into the woods for a lengthy fuck in front of the fire. Alex wouldn’t even mind seeing him more than once every two weeks if he didn’t do things like ask that.

“No,” Alex said, shaking his head. He was in Forrest’s lap, both of them bare and comfortable being that way. Another benefit of living in the woods was that, as long as the hunt wasn’t happening, there was a very slim chance anyone would stop by without a warning. They could do whatever they wanted.

“I would,” he admitted, “If I lived out here, I would.”

“Good thing you don’t live out here then,” Alex said. Forrest wrinkled up his nose before giving a playful laugh, reaching a hand up to comb Alex’s long hair behind his ear. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he cut it, but it didn’t matter because it pissed off his dad and for that reason alone he would never cut it again.

“You ever think about moving back into town?” he wondered, craning his neck as Alex moved down to kiss his neck. He slowly kissed his way to his ear, taking it between his teeth gently.

“I’d rather put my dick in a blender,” Alex said as seductively as he could. He felt Forrest physically recoil at the thought, a groan coming from him as he leaned away. Alex smiled.

“Why do you say shit like that? Jesus,” Forrest breathed, shaking his head. Alex just grinned at him until he grinned right back. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, I believe that so much,” Alex said sarcastically, rolling his hips forward to get a little bit of a reaction from him. It worked far too easily. “Round two?”

“You expect me to say no to that?”

“No, I really don’t.”

Forrest left around two in the morning, needing a little coercion to make him realize staying over night wasn’t an option. Telling him he planned to be up early to do yoga didn’t work, but telling him he’d be forcing him to wake up at 5AM to join if he didn’t leave definitely did.

He didn’t really understand Forrest’s desire to be around him. Sure, he was probably the only person Alex had found since his grandmother that he could tolerate for more than thirty minutes, but that didn’t mean he wanted him around always. He liked space, he liked being alone. His brothers asked often when he would settle down and Forrest occasionally liked to see if he wanted something more, but apparently ‘I don’t want to’ wasn’t a valid answer. Apparently, it wasn’t right to enjoy being on your own.

Sometimes, on days that weren’t great, he’d consider it, though. He felt like this now, yes, but would he always? Wouldn’t he want someone eventually? And, when that time came, wouldn’t it be nice to have Forrest around, someone who he already knew he could tolerate? But then he remembered that’s just what society told him to feel.

If he found someone worth altering his life for, it wouldn’t be a question. He’d know it.

Bright and early the next morning, Gregory Manes, the middle Manes boy, showed up at the door with iced coffee. He was the least pushy of Alex’s brothers and was the only one who, while still going hunting every month, hadn’t killed any wolves. That was the only reason Alex tolerated his early morning visits.

“Wasn’t Flint supposed to come?” Alex asked, sipping the coffee as he led the way to the side door. It entered straight into the not-quite-outside room that Alex used to do all the fun stuff like skinning and packaging.

“Yeah, but I wanted to come talk to you,” Greg said. Alex raised an eyebrow as he opened the freezer, desensitized to the smell of blood and meat that filled the room as he continued to drink his coffee while simultaneously pulling out package deer meat to put in a bag. For a town full of hunters, they never seemed to be able to get any deer of their own.

“Why?”

“You need to steer clear of that Long boy. Or at least tell him to stop acting like you two are an item,” Greg said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Since when had he ever taken being told what to do well? “I’m not judging you or trying to tell you what to do. I’m just saying he’s starting to outcast himself by association and he seems too nice to suffer like that.”

“He shouldn’t be telling anyone that we’re together anyway,” Alex said, slamming the freezer door shut, “We aren’t and he knows that.”

“Okay, well make sure he knows that. Mrs. Sibley, the lady who runs the coffee shop, refused him service this morning and I have to assume it’s because word is getting around that you two are together.”

That took Alex off guard as he looked at him with wide eyes. Even he had never been refused service. Maybe that was the fear, but still. 

“Seriously? Jesus, why do any of you stay in that town?”

“It’s not that easy to just get out.”

“For him it would be. He’s smart and friendly, he’d be able to get out easily,” Alex explained. Greg sighed.

“I don’t know, that’s not my call to make. All I’m sayin’ is he’s gonna suffer if something doesn’t change,” he said. Alex nodded and decided to be nice about it. He knew Forrest wouldn’t listen to him if he told him to stop, but it wouldn’t hurt Alex to distance himself from him for his own good. He didn’t need him like that.

“Okay.”

“Also,” Greg sighed, “I need you to drive into town later and pick up Isobel from work because I have to get ready for the hunt tonight.”

Alex froze and looked over at him, carefully pulling the coffee away from his lips. Greg was giving him that pleading little smile and Alex hated him for it. This is why he didn’t socialize. They did shit like this.

“So this is a bribery coffee?” he asked. Greg rolled his eyes.

“Please? Your the only guy that I trust around her anyway.”

“Then maybe get her to ask one of her friends? You know, women so she doesn’t have to be picked up from work by some guy she’s met once?” Alex explained. 

Greg gave him that look like he should know that wasn’t an option. Which, granted, it sort of wasn’t. All the women in the town usually got together on the night of the hunt to cook for all the men when they got back. It was all very sexist if Alex was concerned. But, still, Isobel already got judged because she wasn’t from around there. If she asked someone to go out of their way on the night of the hunt, it could make it worse.

“Fine,” he groaned, “But you owe me. That’s like a two hour round trip just to pick up your girlfriend.”

“I’ll pay for your gas and I’ll make sure dad doesn’t come around here for three months,” Greg offered. Alex eyed him.

“Deal.”

-

Alex spent his day compiling fire wood, checking his garden, and making sure the fence around his cabin was secure. His one rule was that, during hunts, if any of the fuckers even tried to enter or shoot around his property, he’d shoot them. They listened, but you could never be too cautious.

He combed and braided his hair before he left, even bothering to get dressed in something that wasn’t dirty. As much as he didn’t care to impress anyone, he also wasn’t too keen on alienating a girl who was already alienated enough. 

She was quiet when he picked her up from her work, saying her thanks and nothing more. He dropped her off and immediately started heading back home. The sun was starting to go down and he knew that as soon as it go dark, idiots would be in the woods. He was trying to avoid getting his tires blown by boys who got spooked by every little sound and mistook his truck for a wolf.

He was none too lucky though, navigating that dirt road that he specifically carved out for his truck as the siren rang throughout the town to signify the beginning of the hunt. He rolled his eyes and kept an eye out for people that were in the woods hunting, not really eager to hit anyone despite the fact that he could hear just how gun crazy they were. 

But then something dark was laying in the middle of the path. Alex slowed to a stop and turned on his brights. He felt all the air leave his lungs as he realized it was a wolf. Big as ever, but not in pieces every other time he’d seen one. Instead, this one was wounded and looking in the lights with scared eyes. 

Against all better judgement, Alex climbed out of his truck and slowly started walking towards it. It was hurt, but it wasn’t dead. Maybe he could help and then he could feel just a little bit better knowing he wasn’t as bad as the rest of his family.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, as he neared the animal. It’s fur was thick and a dark brown, eyes almost too human as they stared him down His stomach swooped in fear, but kept his hands where the animal could see and took slow steps. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just wanna help, okay?”

The wolf whined, but didn’t bark or growl. Alex tried to remember all the tales of how vicious these creatures were and wondered if maybe, just maybe, they were only vicious because they were treated with venom first.

“Let’s see where you’re hurt, okay?” Alex cooed as he got close, crouching slowly. He held eye contact and slowly reached to pet the wolf’s head, promising that he wasn’t a threat. It didn’t bite his hand off, so that was a plus.

It only took a few seconds to see that there was a bullet graze in it’s front leg which was probably why it was in the middle of a path instead of hiding somewhere. However, it looked like something he could feasibly patch up. Alex frowned as he tried to figure out how the hell he was going to get the animal back to his cabin. Sure, he was strong, but strong enough to pick up a whole ass wolf?

A gunshot rang through the air and the wolf startled, whining and fearful. Alex had never felt so much compassion for anything in his entire life. Never had he ever felt as bad for a human as he did for this wolf. Which is probably what led him to deciding to carry it.

“Give me one second, okay? I’m gonna help. If you wanna bite my arm off, that’s cool too,” Alex said before running back to his truck. He dropped the tailgate and grabbed a blanket from the back seat before heading back to the wolf. “I got you.”

He laid out the blanket as fast as he could and, will a lot of struggling, he managed to get the wolf on it. He didn’t question why it was trusting him so much, he just went with it. His grandmother did always say he had an open soul. He always thought that was bullshit, but maybe he was just open to a different species.

He dragged the blanket with the wolf on it all the way to the back of the truck and winced when another shot echoed through the air. Alex said a few cursed under his breath before looking down at the wolf that was staring up at him, putting it’s life in his hands so willingly.

“This is probably gonna hurt, okay? I’m sorry,” he warned.

Alex gathered the ends of the blanket and wrapped them around his hands, trying to think of it as picking up a heavy log instead of a living being as he lifted it and tried to throw it in the back of the truck as gently as possible. That didn’t stop the pained yap the wolf made when it hit the bed of the truck and Alex instantly gave it another pet.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “Stay put, okay? It’s gonna be okay.”

He closed the tailgate and quickly got back into his truck, driving the rest of the way feeling like he had stepped into a different side of reality. This is why he didn’t go out during hunts. Now he had a stupid wolf to take care of.

When he got to his cabin, he moved fast to get the wolf from the bed of the truck and inside. It’d be safe there as long as no one actually saw him taking it in there. Alex had zero faith in his father to respect his privacy if there was a wolf involved.

“Alright, it’s okay,” Alex cooed, repeating himself over and over as he carefully got the wolf onto the ground. It was a lot easier to do that than it’d been to lift it, so that he was thankful for. 

He dragged the wolf on the blanket all the way through the front door and locked it behind him, letting out a huff of relief. He stood there for a moment to catch his breath as the wolf stared up at him, 

“You trust me, right?” Alex asked rhetorically, but the wolf rolled onto his side and gave him unbridled access to tend to the wound on his leg. Alex tilted his head to the side. “Oh, you really trust me. Guess I gotta make it worth your while, huh? Gimme one second.”

Alex flicked on the lights in the kitchen, not giving a shit if it obscured the men hunting. He was the one that rigged up the generator and he was going to use it regardless. He started searching for his first aid kit, a rag, and then got two separate bowls to fill with water (well water, he couldn’t take credit for that, that was his grandmother’s doing). 

He brought everything back to the wolf and sat on the ground beside him, opening the first aid kid.

“Here’s water if you need it,” Alex said, putting one of the bowls by the wolf’s head, “This might hurt a little... I say to an animal who literally can’t understand me.”

The wolf a soft huff of acknowledgement, ears flicking. Alex smiled and shook his head, scooting a little closer. He tried to be gentle as he looked at the wolf’s bleeding leg, dipping the rag into the other bowl of water to use to wipe it clean.

“It’s just a graze,” he murmured in confirmation, “Took a chunk of flesh, but I think it’s superficial. You’ll be okay.”

Still, he got a little gauze pad and wet it with hydrogen peroxide before cleaning it with that. The wolf let out another whine and Alex gave mindless words of encouragement, trying to move as quickly as possible. After that, he got neosporin and dabbed that over it as well before wrapping it up. He hoped it would be enough. He decided he’d just keep a close eye on it to make sure he would be okay. 

“You can stay here until you feel better,” Alex promised, petting the wolf’s stomach gently. He watched him lap up a bit of water before laying his head back down. “You look tired.”

Tired sounded nicer than in pain because surely that’s what he really felt. Nonetheless, Alex pet him a few more times before getting up to put the first aid kid away and discard the bloody rag and bloody water bowl.

The wolf stayed right there by the entrance of the kitchen on the blanket, watching Alex as he got up to make some semblance of dinner. He hummed to himself and to the wolf as gunshots continued. He didn’t want him to be scared.

He made himself deer sausage and a potato, keeping it plain and simple. On another plate, he put a slab or raw deer meat and went back to sitting on the floor.

“I don’t know if you’re hungry, but here,” Alex said as he placed the plate beside him. The wolf eyed him, but Alex kept to himself as he ate his own food. It seemed to be enough and he eventually started taking small, delicate bites. Alex grinned. “Not very wolf-like.”

The wolf gave a superficial growl and Alex smiled even wider.

They ate in silence for the most part, gunshots dying down as it got darker. Usually, by 10, the wolves were either in hiding or dead and the men retreated back into town. Alex stayed with his wolf until the siren signified the hunt was over at 11PM. 

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” Alex told him after cleaning their dishes and double checking the lock on the door, “I’ll leave your water there.”

Alex headed into his room after that, grabbing a pair of sweats, an old sweater, and fresh boxers before he stripped down. He could take a shower in the morning. 

Right as he dropped his pants to the ground, he heard uneven tapping against the wood floors. He looked over his shoulder to see the wolf in all his wounded glory limping his way to be near him.

“Excuse you,” Alex said, feigning modesty. The wolf just gave another soft whine and Alex shook his head with a laugh, pulling on his clean clothes. When he looked back again, the wolf had gotten onto the left side of his bed. “Oh, so now you can walk and jump? You really did just want me to carry you.” Another whine. “Kidding.”

Alex climbed into bed, careful to be mindful of his wounded bed partner. He wasn’t actually used to sharing a bed to actually sleep, but this felt like a valid exception to the rule. He pet the wolf beside him a few times and scratched behind his ear.

“Goodnight.”

-

The next few days went by with ease.

They’d get up early, eat breakfast, tend to the garden, eat lunch, hunt deer, get firewood, eat dinner, go to sleep, repeat. The wolf followed Alex around as much as he could and he got stronger each day. By the third day, he wasn’t even limping anymore.

“I have never seen something heal this fast,” Alex marveled as he cleaned up the wound that was now just a scratch after dinner, “That’s insane.”

He stood once he was done and headed into the kitchen to wash his hands again. It was strange. This was the first time since his grandmother died that he didn’t get annoyed by the constant companionship. Hell, even when she was around, he’d go get lost in the woods for a few hours to be in his own mind. But there was something comforting about having another being that didn’t talk back. There was no annoyance about him, just a presence to remind him that he wasn’t completely alone.

Alex was halfway through putting his hair in a bun when someone knocked on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and the wolf stood in attention. No one had told him they were stopping by.

Still, he made his way to the door with the wolf hot on his heels.

“Go,” he whispered to him, shooing him away, “Go in there.”

It took a few seconds of staring him down, but eventually the wolf went into the living room. Alex closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath, hoping that Greg had kept his word and it wasn’t his father. If his dad found out he was harboring a wolf, well, they had bigger problems.

Alex opened the door and saw Forrest, the man smiling hesitantly.

“Um, hey,” Alex said, “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t return any of my texts,” he said, “I was kinda worried.”

“You shouldn’t be, you know I don’t look at that thing,” Alex said. Forrest nodded, looking around as if trying to find a reason to stay. “Look, my brother told me about people acting rude towards you because of me. I think it’s best if we stopped.”

Forrest looked taken aback. “They’re rude because I’m gay.”

Alex gave a small smile and shook his head. “No. Well, maybe a little, but Mrs. Sibley wouldn’t refuse service to someone because they’re gay. Not saying she’s the most welcoming person in the world, but she takes her money very seriously. It’s because you’ve mentioned me to people.”

He bowed his head for a moment, thinking about it. Alex expected him to leave, but instead he just looked back up at him and shrugged.

“Fuck ‘em.”

“No,” Alex said, “No, I’m not about to be responsible for you.”

“Then I’ll say we broke up.”

“We aren’t dating.”

“Yeah, but clearly they think we are,” Forrest said, shaking his head, “Look, I don’t give a shit what we are. You’re the only guy in this town that is both not straight and not conformed to this town’s bullshit agenda. Can’t I fuck at least one person that isn’t a Republican?”

Alex snorted a laugh and felt himself caving. He did like having Forrest at his beck and call for the same reason that Forrest clearly liked having him. They were two of the only sane people.

“Fine,” Alex said, looking him up and down, “But you still came back here awfully soon.”

“What can I say? The hunt always makes me hate everyone around there a little more,” Forrest explain. Alex took that as a perfectly valid answer.

He pulled Forrest into his house and into a kiss, slamming the door behind him. Forrest grinned easily, wrapping his arms around his torso and pulling him in tight. Alex could feel how toned he was through his shirt which, honestly, he loved. Alex did yoga and lifted heavy shit, but he wasn’t all sculpted with abs and stuff. Forrest, on the other hand, was.

Their make-out was interrupted by a loud bark. Forrest nearly jumped out of his skin and Alex instantly looked over his shoulder to where the wolf was all but glaring at them.

He was growling low as he slowly stalked forward. Alex couldn’t be fucked to find it intimidating.

“Really? Relax,” Alex told the wolf. He just growled right back. Forrest hid behind him shamelessly.

“Since when did you get a fucking dog?” he asked. Alex didn’t really have an answer, so he just shrugged and then walked closer. He knelt down in front of the wolf despite his anger and looked him in his all too human eyes.

“Go to bed,” he said. The wolf’s angry demeanor dropped in favor of something close to a pout, a mournful whine coming from him. “Go.”

He slowly walked away, head bowed and tail all but tucked between his legs. Alex huffed and stood back up, turning to Forrest who seemed very confused still.

“What the hell was that?” he asked. Alex just shrugged and walked closer. He didn’t want to explain himself and he wasn’t about to. Forrest didn’t question him as he pulled him back into a kiss and started pulling him to the couch.

Alex tried, he really did, but it was hard to enjoy having sex when there was a wolf dramatically walking through the house and whining for attention. They got as far as Alex being shirtless and on his back on the couch and Forrest kissing down his chest to go down on him when they had to stop because the fucking wolf was just watching them like a disappointed parent who whined louder and louder by the second.

“Go to bed!” Alex told him. He just laid down on the floor right there as if that’s what Alex meant. “Oh my God,” he groaned, throwing his head back. Forrest chuckled against his stomach before sitting up.

“This is what you get for getting a dog.”

“Well, if I knew getting cock-blocked was a side effect of a pet, then I’d never have signed up.”

Forrest gave a small laugh and they both sat up, accepting that there was no way to continue without feeling awkward as hell. The wolf seemed awfully proud of himself.

“Why did you get a dog, anyway? I thought you said you weren’t lonely,” Forrest said.

“I’m not. And I didn’t really want him. I found him and he was hurt, so I’m letting him stay until he’s healed,” Alex explained. Forrest gave a teasing smile.

“You helped something in need? Aw, who knew you had it in you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Alex laughed, reclining back against the couch, “I guess you can go now since we’re clearly not allowed to do anything.”

“Seriously?” Forrest asked. Alex just raised an eyebrow. He sighed, but clearly wasn’t too shocked. He probably would’ve been more shocked if Alex actually condoned in letting him stick around if they weren’t going to hook up. “Alright then.”

Alex walked him back to the door and they shared a kiss before Alex locked up after him. He glared at the wolf when he walked back into the living room, shaking his head.

“Can’t believe I’m just letting you tell me what to do in my own home,” Alex scolded as he dropped back on the couch. The wolf got up and came over, jumping up onto the couch and licked at his face. Alex tried to lean away, but the slobbery kisses kept on. “Haha, very funny.”

The licks stopped, but the wolf laid heavily on him. Alex just accepted it and relaxed into the couch, stroking his soft fur. Was it bad if he didn’t mind this over sleeping with Forrest? 

“Lets go to bed, I guess,” Alex sighed eventually, giving him one last scratch before they both got down from the couch.

It felt standard now to walk to his bedroom and change and get comfortable in bed with a huge ass wolf. He’d only been doing it for a few nights and yet it was like he couldn’t remember not being this way. He was almost sad at the prospect of sleeping alone again.

“You’re almost all healed,” Alex whispered into the darkness but he trusted the wolf understood every word. He stared at him with conviction like he always did and Alex no longer assumed he didn’t hear him. He did. “Are you gonna run off tomorrow?”

The wolf blinked once and then shifted closer, nudging his nose against Alex’s chin and laying his head on his chest. Alex huffed a laugh and shamelessly buried his face in his fur. 

“I’ll take that as I’ll at least see you around.”

-

Alex woke up the next morning, not to fur, but to skin.

When he opened his eyes, he was face to face with a man. Alex immediately jumped up and scrambled out of bed, his heart thudding in his chest. The man in his bed sat up, unabashedly naked as he sat criss-cross and blinked up at Alex. He tilted his head to the side in that distinctly animalistic way that made Alex’s heart stop.

“What the fuck?” Alex asked, raking his hands through his hair as he tried to make sense of this, “What the fuck?”

“I’m all healed now, see?” the man said, pointing to the faintest little scar on his arm. Alex’s mouth went dry at the confirmation. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

“I-what? Oh my God, cover up, I can’t fucking think,” Alex said and the man just smiled at him, doing as he said. He had curly hair that almost reached his shoulders and stubble dotting his cheeks along with a hairy chest. His shoulders were broad and so was his smile, his skin tan in a way that complimented his muscles. He was hot. But he wasn’t fucking human. “I’m so confused.”

“Why?” he asked. Alex scoffed, eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

“What do you mean why? I went to sleep with a wolf in my bed and woke up to a fucking man,” Alex pointed out. He blinked innocently, those eyes identical to the ones he’d seen in the wolf. It was only more confirmation.

“You like men.”

“And I liked your smartass comments better when I couldn’t hear them,” he said. Again he just blinked and tilted his head. Alex rubbed his hands over his face. “I just... I know the legend, but... really? Is this really a thing? What the fuck?”

“I... I don’t know what you want me to say,” he said. Alex took a deep breath, trying to focus on his thoughts so he could ask the right questions. When he did, though, they came out all at once.

“How do you speak English so well? Why did you wait so long to show me that you’re human? Why did you show me at all? Are you human? What’s your name? How old are you? What the fuck?” Alex rambled. The not-wolf stared at him with wide, overwhelmed eyes. “Fuck.”

“I... I...” he stuttered out, furrowing his eyebrows, “You usually say less words.”

“Yeah, well, I usually don’t get confirmation of fucking mythical creatures,” Alex snapped. The not-wolf’s face slowly got more and more concerned, not longer any trace of that big smile. In fact, he looked scared. Alex sighed and rubbed his hands over his face again. He’d told that wolf four days ago that he was safe here and he meant it. Even if that meant he had just quickly adjust to this. “I’m sorry for freaking out. Look, just... I’ll lend you some clothes and then you can explain everything to me while we make breakfast. Okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding his head as he stood to his feet with complete disregard of his nudity. He stumbled a little as he did so, catching himself on the wall and laughing a little. “These feet are weird.”

“Yeah,” Alex breathed, looking away and hoping he had clothes that would fit him. He picked out the baggiest sweater and baggiest pair of sweats he owned, turning to give the pair to him. He took them with welcome hands.

Alex watched as he fumbled with them, sitting the sweats on the bed as he decided to focus on the sweater first. He twisted it and unfolded it, flipping it around in his hands a few times before finding the large opening at the bottom. He looked up at Alex for confirmation that he was doing it right. All it told Alex was that he was basically dealing with a fresh goddamn human.

He stuck his hands inside, stretching and moving wildly as he tried to make it work. Alex smiled at the childish nature of it and moved forward, helping him get his arms through the sleeves and his head through the collar. He flashed a smile when they made eye contact. 

“Can you get the pants or do you need help with that too?”

“I got it. You did it so many times.”

“Great, glad to know I could teach you something,” Alex huffed, shaking his head with a little laugh. Still, the not-wolf had to sit on the bed and focus harder than normal to get his legs through the pants. “Does your hand-eye coordination improve the longer you’re human or am I going to have to teach you how to function?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Like, do you get better at doing things?”

“Oh. Yes.”

“Got it.”

They made their way into the kitchen and the not-wolf stood too close to him, lingering over his shoulder as if his wolf boundaries were still acceptable in human form. They weren’t though, not really, and Alex shoved him away.

“Give me space,” he instructed. He agreed, moving a few feet away before eventually deciding to sit on the floor by his water bowl that was probably not helpful anymore. “Now, give me answers.”

Within the 15 minutes it took to cook eggs and deer sausage, Alex got the run down of all things mythical. He learned that it was extremely difficult to shift when they were hurt, meaning he couldn’t have let Alex know earlier if he tried (but they healed faster in wolf form anyway so it was pointless). He also learned that he spent most of his time as a wolf, but usually became human during hunts because his elders had taught him that was what he should do. That was how his English had gotten as good as it had.

“Wait, so why were you a wolf during this last hunt? What happened?” Alex asked. He shifted awkwardly, pulling on the sleeves of the sweater as he tried to find his words.

“Days are different out there, it’s hard to know exactly when the hunt will be. Usually, my sister comes to get me and gives me a place to go, but this time she didn’t. I-I don’t know why,” he said. Alex furrowed his eyebrows as he looked over at him.

“Your sister?”

“Yes. She spends most of her time human, she doesn’t like being outside like that.”

“Because of the hunt?”

“No,” he said, but then he paused for a moment, “Yes. I don’t know. It’s strange. She wants to be normal, so she goes. I like being that.”

“I get it,” Alex said easily. He dispersed the food onto two plates and walked over to him, sitting down on the floor with him. He handed him the plate and a fork, but he simply put the fork on the ground and used his hands. “So, do you have a name? Or do you spend so much time as a wolf that you don’t have one?”

“No, I have one,” he said, picking up a small section of scrambled egg with all five of his fingers. Alex smiled as he shoved it in his mouth in the messiest way possible. “It’s Michael.”

“Michael,” Alex repeated, “I’m Alex.”

“Alex,” he said, nodding his head as he shoved more egg into his mouth, “I never had this food, Alex, it’s good.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.”

They ate in silence for a little while longer, Alex finding amusement in watching him make a mess and then eventually having to show him how to wash his hands. Instead of a morning workout or going immediately to his garden, they sat down on the couch to talk more. Michael sat too close, too eager to lay on him like he did when he was a wolf.

“Okay, you can’t do that,” Alex told him, pushing him away until they were firmly on other sides of the couch, “I don’t like that.”

“Like what?”

“The whole unnecessary touch thing.”

“That man that was here before did that,” Michael pointed out. Alex opened his mouth to explain, but then he realized that Michael had caused that whole scene and knew exactly what he was doing.

“Yeah, and you ran him off. Why would you do that?” Alex asked. Michael had no shame as he looked at him.

“Not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“He got all the petting and he was only here for a few minutes. I got none for that whole time,” Michael explained like it was obvious. Alex scoffed, but couldn’t help but laugh.

“You aren’t entitled to my attention, you know that right? I can pet whoever I want,” Alex said. Michael just shrugged, twisting to sit with his back against the arm of the couch and his legs criss-cross again. “But I was trying to have a sex and I think you knew that.”

Michael gave a guilty smile.

“What the fuck?” Alex said, giving another little laugh, “You’re such an ass.”

Michael laughed, so open and free that Alex nearly felt guilty for being cynical. But, still, this wasn’t a completely understood situation.

“So, what’s the plan? ‘Cause you can’t stay with me forever,” Alex told him. Michael pulled his leg up, resting his chin on his knee and giving him those sad puppy eyes that worked just as well as they did when he was an actual dog. “Oh no, you’re not guilting me into letting you stay here.”

“But I’m hurt.”

“You said it yourself, you’re all healed,” Alex pointed out. Slowly, that bottom lip popped out in a pout and Alex had to fight a smile. 

“But we’re friends.”

“Friends don’t cock-block each other.”

Still, that pout was still there. Alex shook his head, trying to hide his laugh before he got up. He was just going to have to think about this more. He felt bad just throwing him back out when he knew that his family was trigger happy, but he didn’t like the idea of having a whole ass person in his house. Maybe they could compromise. 

“Look, I’m gonna go take a shower, can I trust you to stay put?” Alex asked. Michael nodded. “Good.”

The rest of the day somehow carried on like normal. Michael sat on the bed like he always did to watch Alex braid his hair, staring like it was the most interesting thing in the world. They went to work on the garden together, this time with Michael working on his hand-eye coordination by trying to help. It was the same as they went to cut fire wood. Turns out there was a bonus to having someone around with werewolf strength--the dude could basically carry a whole ass tree.

For some reason, Alex didn’t hate it. He didn’t hate having him tag along and he didn’t hate having to explain things to him. He felt more patient than ever and that in itself was wild. He didn’t like people. But, then again, Michael wasn’t quite people.

“You need to go take a shower,” Alex told him that night. Michael just stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Don’t look at me like that. If you’re gonna stay in human form, you have to act like one.”

With a little bit of persuasion, Alex showed him how the shower worked and what soap to use on his hair and what soap to use on his body. Alex waited outside of the bathroom for about five minutes until a large crash happened and not-so-manly whining followed it.

“What did you do?” Alex asked.

“My eyes,” Michael whined. Alex sighed and asked for permission to help him. It was granted without hesitation.

He walked into the tiny bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain, seeing him holding his palms to his eyes and yet barely any soap in his hair. Alex grabbed a rag and peeled his hands away from his eyes, holding his chin as he dabbed over his closed eyes.

“Now blink a lot,” Alex told him. He did as he was told for about a solid minute until it didn’t hurt as bad.

Alex decided to stay and showed him how to wash his hair, massaging his scalp and smiling at the way he seemed to purr at the sensation. He helped him rinse it out before deciding he could wash his body on his own. He left him with a warning that he needed to be completely dry with the towel before he came out. The instructions worked well enough despite Alex ending up drying his hair for him.

“So, I don’t know if you plan to stay human, but if you do, we can go to a thrift shop and get you some clothes of your own,” Alex offered as he gave him another pair of clothing. He would have to do laundry soon which was always a pain in the ass.

“I’d like to stay human for a little while,” Michael said, putting on the sweater with a little less trouble this time. 

“I thought you said you liked being a wolf.”

“Yes,” Michael said, “But I like being with you.”

Alex ignored the way his stomach clenched and he just made his way towards the bedside table, grabbing his brush before undoing his braid. He didn’t mind Michael, but the fact that he didn’t mind him was scary. It was scarier to know that Michael wanted to stay human to be around him. What exactly did that mean? Nothing, right? They hadn’t known each other long enough to be more than nothing.

The bed creaked as Michael crawled onto it and Alex eyed him.

“What are you doing? You’re sleeping on the couch,” Alex said. Michael made a wounded noise, looking up to him like Alex had just told him his dog died. “I told you. If you’re human, you have to act like it. Humans don’t share beds with strangers.”

Michael didn’t move, looking up at Alex like he was genuinely, deeply hurt by the idea that, not only could they not share a bed, but that he was a stranger. Alex held up his end for a total of thirty seconds before he caved. What the hell was this wolf-man doing to him? Since when was he this fucking nice?

“Fine,” Alex groaned. Michael instantly fell into bed and curled into the blankets, smiling all proud of himself. Alex shook his head, finishing brushing his hair before he climbed into bed too. 

Like the night before, only much different, Michael nuzzled his face under Alex’s chin. He snuggled close like that was okay and shifting and itching as he tried to get comfortable in not only his new skin, but new clothes. Alex thought about pointing out that unnecessary touching thing again, but he smelled good and he wasn’t actually that bothered. He didn’t instigate it by touching him more, but he definitely didn’t push him away.

“Alex?” he whispered, voice soft like it was a secret.

“What?” Alex whispered right back.

Michael didn’t give a verbal response, simply pressed in closer and pulled the blanket up to Alex’s chin which meant it was basically over his head. It had Alex wondering if he got cold without all the extra fur. Regardless, he still didn’t touch him.

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

-

A week went by and it turns out living with a half-man, half-wolf wasn’t that bad.

Michael was actually quiet for the most part and he adjusted to human-living quite well. He picked up on how to make coffee very fast. He took showers regularly and wore clothes and helped in the garden. He was an effective hunting partner and wasn’t grossed out by the process of skinning the deer. He was still working on the boundaries part, but, hey, he was trying and Alex appreciated it. It had to be confusing to rationalize that it was okay to touch while they were in bed, but not when they weren’t unless he was a wolf.

It was all easy until they had to go into town to get him clothes and to refill gas cans.

“I don’t like stores.”

“Neither do I.”

“I hate them.”

“So do I.”

“Then why did we go?”

Alex sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He hated going into public, he always had, and after moving into the woods, he hated it more. He hated talking to people and he hated the way the town looked at him and he hated having to perform social niceties that, to him, didn’t feel very nice. However, he hadn’t quite acknowledged that Michael had been even more isolated from it all. 

They’d been in the thrift store for a total of about thirty minutes and just barely made it to that point. People were staring and whispering and avoiding them like the plague, judging them openly. Alex was used to that. Michael, on the other hand, was not and he nearly had a breakdown in the middle of the store after four people deliberately speed-walked away from him and one lady loudly asked her friend why they thought it was okay to come during peak business hours. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around people not liking him on principal and it made him uncomfortable and, well, a wolf never really had to learn to contain emotions. So Alex sent him to the truck while he paid.

When he got to the truck, Michael was curled in a ball with his hands clasped over the back of his head.

“Look, I’m sorry, I should’ve warned you,” Alex said softly. He knew that the people who chose to be around him suffered consequences with the exception of his brothers and his father. And even then the only reason they didn’t was because they ran the fucking town. Alex was an outlier and everyone suspected he was one of them and that his father had sent him to the woods for that reason. The worst part was that Michael actually was.

“Can we go home now?” he asked, voice small as he stayed in the ball. Guilt filled Alex’s system and, for the first time since he was human, he reached out and initiated touch. He stroked his hair and then squeezed his shoulder, trying to comfort him.

“One more stop, but you can stay in the car for that, is that okay?”

Michael nodded.

Alex drove to the gas station while keeping one hand on Michael, hoping that that would be stabilizing enough. He left Michael in the car with a soft ‘I’ll be right back’ and went to go pay for his gas. He grabbed a coffee and sour candy while he was inside, deciding to give Michael some sort of prize for surviving a day amongst the humans of Roswell along with something to ground him, before heading to the counter.

“$50 on pump 7?” the cashier said without even looking up at him. Alex appreciated her lack of conversation mixed with the lack of judgement. She had the same distaste towards him as she did everyone else and she always had. Which is why this was the only gas station he went to.

“Yeah,” Alex answered, fishing out his wallet. There was something slightly annoying that all of his money still technically came from his father and brothers. Sure, they were buying meat off him for not only themselves, but for the big dinners on the night of the hunt, so it wasn’t like it was a handout. But still.

“Alex?” a familiar voice asked. Alex looked up to see his brother, Greg, walking inside. “Hey, I was just on my way out to your place.”

Alex gave a small shrug as he turned to him, coffee and candy in hand. He would never admit that he was a little scared that, if Greg saw Michael, he would know. They’d all been taught from a young age to question anyone who wasn’t from around there and, even if they were, to keep watch of all their differences. Greg was a little different and had been dating a girl who wasn’t from around there, but it still made him wary to let him follow him back to the truck.

“Need meat? Or just need a little brotherly companionship?” Alex asked. Greg huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“Meat,” he said, “I told you, I’d keep dad from comin’ around there. I keep my word.”

“Right,” Alex sighed. He was thankful that he didn’t have to see his father, but, fuck, he didn’t want him meeting Michael. Not one bit. Especially not when Michael was having a bad time. He would like all of his brothers to not see him be nice to anyone. 

“Isobel’s with me,” Greg told him and then eyed him for a moment before looking towards the cashier and then looking back, “And I also noticed there’s a guy in your truck.” So much for keeping that to himself.

“Yeah,” Alex said simply, shrugging his shoulder. He could play it off.

“Moved on from Forrest already?”

“You’re the one who told me to leave him be,” Alex pointed out though he didn’t say that he’d sort of forgotten about Forrest over the last week. He’d sort of been distracted.

“Yeah, I did,” Greg said, nodding slowly. This was certifiably one of the weirdest conversations they’d ever had. That was saying something. “You usually don’t listen.”

“What can I say? We both have a thing for strangers, don’t we?” Alex said. Greg huffed a small laugh.

“I’ll see you at your cabin in a bit,” he said, clasping a hand on his shoulder as he walked past him.

Alex went to his truck, opening the driver’s seat and prodding Michael in his thigh with his middle finger. He peeked up at him through his curls and over his knees, eyes wide and cautious and obscenely gorgeous. Alex held out the coffee and the candy.

“Eat that, it’ll help you feel better,” Alex instructed. Michael nodded and grabbed the items with slightly shaky hands. 

As frustrating as it was to see Michael so distraught over a few rude people, there was also something fascinatingly pure about it. Hell, there was something fascinatingly pure about nearly everything this non-quite-man did. It had Alex’s mind filling with new questions each day. Was he born this way or had he been changed? Was he raised as a wolf? Was he given the option? Had he been in these woods with Alex their entire lives and somehow never crossed paths? 

Alex filled the gas cans in the back of his truck as quickly as possible, climbing back in once he was done and heading home. He was exhausted already and it was hardly noon. He rightfully blamed Michael.

“You good now?” he asked after they’d been shrouded by the trees on the path to the cabin for a good fifteen minutes. Michael had lifted his head entirely, sucking on the sour candy that made him make disgusted faces, but he kept on because Alex had told him to. He’d follow it up by taking sips of the coffee that caused an even more distressed face from the clashing tastes, but he persisted nonetheless. “‘Cause my brother is coming over and I need you to feel like a real person.”

“I am real,” Michael answered.

“Yeah, you can’t talk like that.”

“I…” Michael started, but he stopped himself and shifted, “Alright.”

When they pulled up to the cabin, Michael grabbed the bag of clothes they’d gotten, his trash, and went to help with the gas cans. Alex rationalized that that was a big reason why he didn’t mind having Michael around. He pulled his weight.

“Do you feel better?” Alex asked as they got settled in the outside area, filling a bag with frozen deer meat for Greg.

“Yes,” Michael said, but his eyes were still a little distanced. It only took a few seconds before he added, “But do you mind if I shift?”

Alex blinked in surprise, but he quickly shoved that away. “Yeah, of course, do whatever you need.”

Michael nodded and started heading inside to go do just that. Alex almost stopped him to wait until after Greg got here and left, but he figured he could say he dropped him off before coming home. Alex did have a lot of questions, more pooling in his mind that he supposed he could wait until he wanted to shift back. Maybe them healing faster in wolf form applied to emotional wounds as well.

A few minutes later, someone‒Greg‒knocked on the door. Alex brought the bag of deer meat into the house with him as he went to go open the door. Michael was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, you really want me to leave as soon as I got here, don’t you?” Greg asked as Alex immediately handed the bag to him. He shrugged a dismissive shoulder. “You remember Isobel, right?”

Alex looked over towards the tall blonde that stood behind him. Her makeup was faint and her hair was down and her clothes were plain. It almost made Alex feel bad. When Greg had first met her, he’d excitedly showed Alex pictures of her since he was the only one he could go to about a girl who was from out of town. She looked lively and always dressed to the nines in every picture, regardless of how mundane the situation. That town had successfully forced her to conform. 

“Yeah,” Alex said, “I picked her up from work that day.”

“Yeah, I know, but you’re, well, Alex,” Greg said. He didn’t need to elaborate for Alex to get what he meant by that.

They barely had a second of silence pass between them before Isobel’s face suddenly lit up, looking much more like those pictures. Alex looked behind him at that and saw that Michael, fully wolfed-up, had made himself known. Alex stepped to the side and she took that as her invitation to go pet him.

Except it seemed a little more than that. Isobel dropped to her knees and Michael immediately jumped all over her, licking her face as she hugged him and pet him. Alex couldn’t help but feel extremely confused by that.

Clearly, so was Greg because he felt the need to say, “She really likes dogs.”

“I see that,” Alex noted. The two of them sat there on the ground even as Michael calmed down, just hugging each other. For a moment, Alex recalled Michael saying his sister much preferred living as a human. Was it possible that she�� No. No, that’d be crazy.

“When, uh, when did you get a dog?” Greg asked, a little too much emphasis on the word ‘dog’. Alex licked his lips as he watched the two of them. Isobel seemed to be whispered into Michael’s fur, slowly but surely convincing him that maybe she was that sister he spoke about.

“He was hurt, took ‘em in,” Alex explained. Greg just nodded in a kind of stilted way. Alex looked between Isobel and Greg a few times, slowly but surely milling things over in his mind. Did Greg know? Was he also just harbouring one of them?

Oh, what would Daddy Manes say if he knew what his boys were up to?

“Iz,” Greg said after a moment, clearing his throat, “We gotta get back for dinner with my dad.”

Isobel looked over at him with sort of a neutral expression before she nodded. She kissed Michael’s fur and scratched behind his ear and he gave a little whine when she pulled away. Alex stared at her pretty intently as she stood back up and looked at him. She gave him a small smile.

“He’s a very nice dog,” Isobel said. Alex nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed. They stared at each other for a while, longer than what Alex was taught was socially acceptable. Neither of them cared.

Greg cleared his throat.

“We’ll see you later, Alex,” Greg said, giving him a goodbye nod. Isobel reached for his hand and he took it, leading the way as they headed to his truck. Alex closed the door behind them and turned to the wolf that seemed to continue to take over his life.

“Was that your sister?” Alex asked him. Michael just stared up at him, his animalistic features making it difficult to receive confirmation. “Okay. Lunch?”

Michael stayed close, disregarding the boundaries they’d established when he was in human form. Honestly, Alex didn’t really mind. It was strange, but he was infinitely more comfortable with the wolf version of him snuggling up to his side, laying at his feet, rubbing up against him for pets than he was with the human man that breathed too heavy and still put his clothes on backwards.

After lunch, with not much to do, Alex laid on the couch and grabbed a book. Michael, in all his fluffy glory, sprawled across him. He got through maybe a chapter before the not-quite-wolf captured his attention. It was easy to just wrap his arms around him and hide his face in his fur. It was easy to focus on his steady breathing and the way he cuddled close despite his lack of human grip. Which, honestly, was what made it easy. People left and judged and spoke. Animals… There seemed to be an unspoken dedication that Alex could appreciate.

He could remember the last time he took a nap in the middle of the day before that.

-

Forrest: heard you got a new man. Feel like I shouldn't be surprised.

Alex rolled his eyes, throwing his phone back on the bed and grabbed his brush. Michael watched him with those intense eyes like always and still said nothing. Alex got to work braiding his hair.

It had taken a few days, but eventually Michael was ready to be human again. Alex woke up that morning with him snoring and naked, body cold from the lack of fur and basically burying himself into Alex to chase heat. It was clingy and annoying and so fucking hot that Alex wanted to kick him out. But he didn’t.

“More buzzing,” Michael noted as Forrest texted him again.

“Ignore it.”

“Okay.”

Alex pulled the braid over his shoulder to finish it, noticing it had reached his nipples now. A childish thought of how he could finally be a mermaid passed through his brain and he couldn’t help but smile. It was weird to think of how many years he’d wanted to be anything but himself and now he happened to befriend someone who had that choice.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Alex asked as he thought about it, turning to Michael who was eager to give an answer, “Were you always like this? Like, able to shift? Or is, like, the legend a thing and you can be turned?”

Michael paused for a moment, thinking relatively hard as he tried to find the right words. Alex let him as he tied off the end of the braid. He sat back on the bed and Michael, the king of needing physical touch, made sure their thighs were touching. Alex didn’t mind.

“Both is true. I was born like this. My parents were both this,” Michael said, “But they died. Or left. Or something. I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t remember. They were gone when I was a baby. I was by myself a lot.” 

Alex felt an uncharacteristic pang of empathy and he reached out, rubbing his arm slightly.

“I’m sorry to hear that. That must’ve been scary.”

“A little. I got good at hiding during hunts and stuff and a few people fed me when they didn’t realize I was a wolf because I was small. But one of the elders, Aliya, she found me and took care of me. She taught me to go human during hunts for safety. She died too,” Michael said. He seemed very flippant about that word, like so many people he’d loved died. And most of them were probably at the hand of Alex’s family. Wasn’t that just horrifying?

“What about your sister‒that’s Isobel, right?” Alex clarified. Michael stared at him for a minute, almost like he was scared to confirm it. Alex just squeezed his bicep in comfort. (It was obscenely muscular and almost ruined the mood, but Alex was adult enough to cover that up.)

“She… Don’t tell her I said so,” Michael said quickly. Alex nodded. “Yes. But she isn’t my real sister, we just…”

“Take care of each other?” Alex filled in. Michael nodded in agreement. It had Alex wondering a little bit what had stopped her from going to get him on the night of the hunt. Maybe it had to do with Greg, but even that felt weird. The whole thing was weird. “I get that.”

“Humans can become like us, though,” Michael said, changing the subject. Alex didn’t mind. Whatever was going on with her really wasn’t his business. “We can bite right here.” Michael reached up and pressed his fingers to Alex’s neck.

“Just right there?”

“Yes, I think,” he said, nodding, “But it’s scary. You can die if it’s wrong.”

“Have you ever done it?” Alex asked, his hand moving from his arm to tuck a few loose curls behind his ear. Michael kept that intense look. 

“No, never,” he insisted, “I don’t think it’s good.”

“Not even if I asked?” Alex said. Michael’s eyes seemed to widen just a little bit more, trying to register his words as Alex continued to fiddle with the ends of his hair. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. “Kidding.”

Michael swallowed harshly and stared, leaning a bit closer. Alex wasn’t sure if he should move or not. But Michael didn’t cross any boundaries‒or, not really‒and instead did that thing he did when he wasn’t human. He nudged his nose into Alex’s cheek and then buried his face in the crook of his neck.

Alex leaned back against the pillows and moved his hand to the back of his head, letting him lay there for a moment. Michael had gotten dressed more for a desire to be warm than a desire to be clothed, so Alex wasn’t surprised when he moved his hand up and put it over Alex’s collarbone. His fingers slipped beneath his shirt. Alex still had no desire to push him away.

“Did you ever think about being human and moving into the town?” Alex asked, gently scratching his nails against his scalp.

“When Izzy did. I didn’t wanna be alone,” he whispered. 

“What stopped you?”

“I found Max,” Michael said. That was the first time he ever mentioned someone named Max. Alex didn’t know what to say to that, so he just kept scratching his head and waited. “He’s my brother.”

“Where’s he?”

“I got hurt,” Michael told him, voice softer than before. Alex wrapped his other arm around him. “I’m not sure where he is. We got split up and you found me, so he’s probably out there.”

“Do you miss him?” Michael nodded. It was the first time that Alex considered that Michael might actually leave for real. Why was that so much scarier than him staying? “Do you want to go back into the woods?”

“I want to find him,” Michael said instead, “So he knows I’m okay.”

Alex dragged his thumb over Michael’s jaw, staring up at where the wall met the ceiling. His great grandfather on his mother’s side had built this little cabin back in the late 40s when the Manes had changed the status quo from killing wolves for protection to killing wolves for glory, moving out into the woods to make a statement that it wasn’t dangerous. His great grandma and his grandma had lived in the town for awhile after that, though, and his grandma only moved out here after she’d had two kids and her husband died. 

Alex’s mother had been raised in this tiny cabin with her brother and her mother, fully living off the land like it should’ve been. To this day, he still never understood how exactly his mother met his father and why she liked him enough to have four children with him. It felt like a disconnect. Why would she choose that over this?

But it didn’t matter. This cabin, small and quaint as it was, was a statement of rebellion and family and change. Who would Alex be if he tried to make Michael stay? Even if he wanted him to?

“You can go, if you want.”

Michael sucked in a deep breath and nuzzled in a little closer. 

“And I could come back?”

“Always.”

They fell silent like they usually did, soft touches still being given. They didn’t really need to discuss the logistics. He would probably leave and he would probably come back. Alex had been alone for a long time before‒he liked being alone‒it wasn’t some dramatic thing. This was just a wolf person he’d housed for the last three weeks. It wouldn’t be a drastic change.

It was only when Michael tilted his head and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck that Alex realized he was beyond fucked.

-

“Stop talking.”

“Then you talk. C’mon, tell me how good I‒”

Alex coved Forrest’s mouth with his hand, chasing his release with each thrust of his hips and trying to get the man under him to stop fucking ruining it. 

It was perhaps Alex’s own fault, though. Michael had left to go find his brother four days prior and Alex, for the first time ever, felt lonely. It was weird sleeping alone and it was weird gardening alone and it was weird eating alone. He missed the annoying heavy breathing and the too much touching. Staring at the unused pile of clothes felt like they were taunting him. So he called Forrest up. It was dumb of Alex to think it was a valid replacement.

The man was still a little burned by Alex “moving on” and felt the need to show that by attempting to be bossy. It had Alex wondering how he even dealt with him in the first place. He liked the silence that came with living with a literal wolf much more than the ramblings of a man who claimed to be an animal in bed.

“Fuck,” Alex grunted as he finished, catching his breath for a second before pulling out and rolling onto the other side of the couch. Forrest seemed to be silenced by his own climax which, honestly, was a blessing.

A blessing that didn’t last nearly long enough.

“So, why’d you call? New guy not doing it for you?” Forrest asked. Alex rolled his eyes and groaned, wanting for him to just shut the fuck up for a few minutes. Forrest kicked his leg to get him to answer. 

“Why do you care? I made it clear we aren’t a thing,” Alex said.

“Yeah, but I at least deserve to know who else you’re fucking for my own safety. Like, when’s the last time you’ve been tested?”

“I’m not fucking anyone else,” Alex huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “And I got tested, like, last month. Which, again, haven’t fucked anyone else.”

“Well, then who’s that guy everyone saw you with? You know shit spreads fast in that town when it involves a Manes,” Forrest told him. Alex closed his eyes. “You’re known whether you want to be or not.”

“Oh my God, will you fuck off?” Alex asked, pushing himself to his feet, “It’s none of your business, nor is it anyone else’s. I’m out here for a reason.”

“Which I still don’t get. You’re a Manes, your family runs this town. Why aren’t you basking in that?” Forrest asked. Alex walked to the kitchen and grabbed a towel, wiping himself down and trying not to be irritated.

“Why would I want to? I fucking hate it,” Alex said, “The only reason I hooked up with you in the first place was because I thought you got that.”

“And I do, on some level. I don’t wanna be associated with my family either. But the difference is my family is a bunch of annoying bigots, your family runs a town.”

“A town full of idiotic, cold-hearted people who thrive off the glory of murdering innocent animals for generations,” Alex scoffed, “And you think I want that tacked onto my name?”

“No one fucks with you because of your name, Alex.”

“No, no one fucks with me because they think I’m some fucking creature of the night.”

“And you do nothing to dispute that, by the way.”

“Because I don’t give a shit! Let them think what they want.”

“Sometimes I think your dad was right,” Forrest said, his words making Alex freeze in place. He looked up slowly, seeing Forrest just standing there completely naked and with none of the charm that Michael’s nudity had. The power those words held, the ‘your dad was right’, hit Alex square in the chest. He hated it.

“What did you just say to me?” Alex asked. Forrest shifted under his gaze, his angry stance swaying just a little bit with the fear that came with being stared down by a man with the last name Manes. Alex felt he was the least scary of them all, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know what he was capable of. 

“After I first met you, your dad cornered me and told me to tell him if there was anything sketchy about you and he’d make sure I was safe in town. And there is something sketchy about you. This, this whole isolation thing and your weird indiviuality complex is fucking weird. You do know humans are social creatures, right? We’re supposed to feel more comfort being close, not being separated. Sometimes I think maybe you really are what the rumors say,” Forrest said. 

“So you were hooking up with me because my father told you to?” Alex clarified slowly, his body filling with anger and something akin to betrayal. It wasn’t like he’d ever really put anything into a relationship with Forrest, but, fuck, he did think they were at least friends on some level.

“No,” Forrest said quickly, shaking his head, “No, that was my choice. He just… took advantage of that. But still.”

“No, what the fuck have you told my dad?” Alex scoffed.

“I told him you self isolate and that’s probably a mental issue,” Forrest said, having the audacity to sound like he cared, “That isn’t normal, Alex.”

“Fuck you,” he said, shaking his head, “Seriously, fuck you. Why would I want to be normal? Why can’t I just do what I want? Why the fuck do you buy into bullshit standards that are set for us? You even said it yourself, everyone in that fucking town conforms to the same bullshit ideology. Why are you buying it?”

“I like you, Alex,” Forrest said softly, “But I’m worried about you. So’s your dad.”

“Oh my God,” Alex breathed, a small hysterical bout of laughter raking through his system. He felt so stupid. So stupid for thinking that someone else, someone human, would get it. “Get out.”

“Alex‒”

“No, get out. You don’t know shit about my dad if you think he’s worried about me. Get the fuck out of my house.”

It took a few minutes too long, but eventually Forrest was gone and Alex was left with more regrets than ever. How the hell did he let someone into his space? He’d known for his entire life that humans were shitty and thrived off their stupid hive-mind. Why did he think Forrest was any different? Was it the blue hair? The fact that he was intrigued by Alex’s way of life until he realized how in depth it was? Why?

 He missed Michael.

-

Gregory Manes showed up unannounced early one morning, no coffee in hand.

“I’ve come to expect coffee from you and now I’m disappointed,” Alex said flatly. 

“I know that you know,” Greg responded instead, voice a little on edge. It was how Alex noticed the way he was fidgeting. “But the hunt’s tonight and Isobel’s out there and you know the woods better than anyone else. Help me.”

Alex had to blink a few times to fully process what he was asking. He figured that Isobel had probably gone to fetch Michael before the hunt. He wanted to reassure him, to tell him they’d probably be fine, but Michael had been shot last time. And, honestly, he was a little eager to see him again. 

“Okay.”

Greg waited for him to get dressed and braid his hair. They filled their water bottles and stuffed a bag with two blankets in case they shifted and needed cover. Then they headed out into the woods to find their respective objects of affection. It was strange that they had this thing in common and both of them seemed very determined not to elaborate. Alex had no idea what Greg knew, Greg had no idea what Alex knew, and they were both aware of how dangerous it could be to share information. So they didn’t.

Alex didn’t really know where the wolves went when they were out and about. He rarely saw them and, when he did, they kept their distance. He never felt the need to bother them before. They shared space, it was free reign. That meant he really had no idea where the hell he was going. 

It was the definition of wandering. Neither of them spoke or tried to call out for the wolves they wanted to protect, deciding to keep it to themselves. Truly, it was more for Greg’s safety than Alex’s. If all the wolves were like Michael and Isobel, that meant they knew exactly who the Manes were. Alex didn’t hunt them, but Greg did. Maybe he didn’t shoot, but he was there. It had Alex wondering if Isobel suffered any judging from other wolves for being with him.

They walked for hours, going deeper into the woods than even Alex really hadn’t gone since he was an angry 13 year old who ran out of school and into the woods. His father had assembled a search party after six hours of him being gone only for his grandmother to find him in a clearing, eating berries she’d taught him were safe.

They reached that same clearing around noon after a solid five hours of walking and decided to take a small break.

“Dad’s gonna kill us when he finds out,” Greg sighed as they sat down on a log. Alex shook his head.

“Why are you going to tell him?” 

“Didn’t say I was. He’s just… Dad. He knows,” Greg said. He had a point. The worst part about his father was that he was one of the smartest men Alex had ever met. He had a military background and was a born leader who had studied human psychology to only boost that more. He could read body language too well. The idea that Greg even brought Isobel over to his house for dinner felt like bringing her into a trap.

“Why do you let Isobel around him?” Alex asked. Greg huffed a laugh.

“I tried not to. Even, even before I found out about all this. I didn’t want her influenced by him,” Greg said, giving a stupid little laugh, “But she has been, so…”

“Does she spend enough time out here? I think it makes a difference,” Alex said, keeping his words as vague as possible. He knew Michael handled things by shifting. It wasn’t even like he was trying to run away from the problems, it seemed to be more about things making more sense in the mind of a wolf. 

“I don’t think so,” Greg admitted softly. Alex nodded. He wasn’t very good with words and he didn’t know how he was supposed to comfort him in that moment. Was he supposed to say it gets better? That it’d be fine? That she wasn’t out here because she was mad at him? Because he didn’t know any of that.

“If you wanna, like… spend more time out at the cabin… It was your grandma’s too,” Alex said as if that was helpful. And it seemed to be because Greg smiled.

Maybe it would’ve been more heartwarming if a low growl didn’t come from behind them.

They both looked over to see a wolf, bigger than Michael, growling at them with his head bowed and eyes narrowed. It was a similar tactic to the one Michael had used in an attempt to run off Forrest, but this time Alex actually did find it intimidating. This wolf seemed out for blood.

The two of them jumped off the log as the wolf took a step closer.

“It’s okay,” Alex said softly, holding out his hands to show that he wasn’t a threat, “It’s okay, we’re not going to hurt you.”

It was stupid of him to think what worked with Michael would work with this wolf. Alex caught the moment the wolf lunged and immediately pushed his brother out of the way. Before the wolf could get to him though, another one tackled it out of the way.

Alex and Greg both fell to the ground as they watched the two fight with wide eyes. It was jarring and confusing and Alex only got more horrified when he realized one of them was Michael. But it wasn’t like they could do anything. They just had to wait.

Eventually, Isobel, barefoot in human form, appeared. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were thrown on like she’d shifted in the woods beside some hidden stash of clothes. She whistled loudly, efficiently breaking the two wolves up.

“Thanks,” Greg told her. She simply walked over and held her hand out to him, helping him to his feet. 

Before Alex could get to his, Michael came to him and instantly started to greet him with licks and nuzzles. Alex shamelessly accepted them, scratching behind his ears.

“Hi,” he said softly and Michael damn near purred in response. God, he missed him.

“We need to get out of the woods, they’re going to prepare for the hunt soon,” Isobel said sternly. It was more words than Alex had ever heard her actually speak and he sort of understood why. There was a comforting, yet commanding lilt to her voice. It was impossible not to obey.

“We can go to my cabin,” Alex offered despite the fact that part of him actively hated the idea of packing his house with that many bodies. However, he could suffer one night with it.

Besides, he could close the door and only focus on Michael being back in his bed.

“Let’s go.”

- 

“I’m sorry for almost attacking you. I’ve never seen any Manes that weren’t a threat.”

“It’s alright.”

Alex didn’t say anything. He just let Greg accept the apology from Max and Max could just take the fact he let him in his house as enough of a compromise.

It was dark by the time they all got settled in the cabin and all in human form. Michael and Max had to shift back and Alex witnessed it for the first time. It looked ungodly painful and, according to the looks on their faces, it was. Their bodies were morphing in different ways and contorting unlike anything Alex had ever seen. But then they’d both stretched, bones cracking, and they were fine.

Michael put on his clothes, but Max was a little harder. He was taller and broader than Michael and Alex and it wasn’t like Greg had clothes in his truck. He had to just settle for pants that didn’t quite reach his ankles and a jacket.

“Coffee?” Michael whispered, his breath hot against the back of Alex’s neck. He was hovering and touchy, but Alex honestly didn’t mind. He had a bad taste in his mouth after the night before and he’d sort of missed the way he wanted to be close.

“It’s night time,” Alex pointed out. Michael hummed and pressed a kiss to his neck. Logically, Alex knew that meant nothing. Michael was a fucking wolf, he didn’t know what constituted as romantic and platonic affection. But, still, it was getting difficult to make sense of it.

But, then again, his brother was sleeping with a wolf, so it must be okay.

“Coffee,” Michael repeated. Alex huffed a laugh.

“Fine.”

They made coffee and joined the other three in the room. Max had sat on the floor and Isobel had chosen to sit in Greg’s lap on the couch. Alex took the other end of the couch and Michael placed himself at his feet. The siren signalling the beginning of the hunt rang through the air and it didn’t go unnoticed how all the wolves in the room got stiff with discomfort.

“It’s okay, they know not to come close,” Alex promised, hand mindlessly rubbing Michael’s shoulder as he sipped his coffee. 

“Dad’s gonna fucking kill me for skipping,” Greg noted.

“Kill him first,” Max suggested. Alex snorted and nodded in agreement. 

“I wish it was that easy. I don’t even know how to fix any of this at this point. How do we change a whole town’s mindset? Like, no matter what, they’ll be scared and they’ll want the hunt to continue,” Greg complained, making it a little too serious. No one really had a response because he was right. People have tried to make statements before, but they all got virtually shunned out of the town. 

“Well, it doesn’t help that they’re right,” Alex said. That got the wolves attention, but he wasn’t going to back down. “They’re scared of creatures that aren’t quite human, aren’t quite wolf. And they exist. Maybe it’s not the same way they think, but they do. And because of the hunt, the wolves are defensive. Like, Max wanting to attack us. That’s because of what the humans did first. There’s a lot more to stop before we just say no more hunting.”

“How many wolves are even left out there, do you know?” Greg asked. Isobel didn’t answer which made sense since she was in the woods the least.

“Not many,” Michael said.

“A lot left decades ago,” Max chimed in, “Like, at least eight different packs left decades ago. Most of the ones that were left were just stubborn. But, now, with the way things have been going, most of us that are still out there are alone or run in packs of two. Makes it hard to keep a head count.”

“But there are other places? Like, you won’t go extinct or anything?” Greg clarified. Isobel huffed a laugh and shook her head.

They sat up and talked through all the gunshots, trying to provide a distraction. Alex kept his hands on Michael the whole time and Michael did the same. It made it hard to focus entirely, but he did his best. 

Alex, deciding to be nice, offered to let them stay for the night. Greg and Isobel could take the couch and Max seemed content to take the floor. They just all agreed that they would find a better hide out in the morning. Then Alex and Michael went to bed.

Alex changed out of his day clothes into his night ones, deciding that he could force himself and Michael into the shower in the morning. He just wanted to get back into bed with him and maybe steal a more efficient night’s sleep. Maybe. Spending so long touching all casually had him feeling sort of restless. Still, Alex took out his braid and shook his hair out before heading to the bed that Michael had already made himself at home in.

“Can I ask you something?” Alex asked as they stared at each other in the darkness. Michael nodded like he always did. “Why’d you trust me so easily that night of the last hunt? Like Max said he could smell that we were Manes. Why’d you trust me?”

Michael furrowed his eyebrows like he was confused by the question. Alex just waited until he realized he actually wanted an answer.

“I’ve seen you, Alex,” he said simply. It was Alex’s turn to be confused. “I’ve seen you for years. We share space, we always have.”

“So, what, you just trusted me based on watching me?”

“The one who lived here before you fed me when I was small,” Michael explained, “If she trusts you, I trust you.”

Alex let out a heavy breath at that little revelation. He remembered Michael saying that he’d been fed by humans, but he hadn’t quite put it together that it was his grandmother. But, if she had, she had known full well he was a wolf no matter his size. Suddenly, her insistence that they were calm creatures made sense. She fucking fed them. She took care of them.

She took care of him.

“I’m sorry, should I not have said that?” Michael asked.

“I want to kiss you,” Alex said, all those pent up feelings from missing him and wanting him and touching him rushing to the surface. Michael didn’t give him a verbal response.

Instead, he moved forward and placed a soft little kiss on his lips. Alex felt like his whole world shifted into place at that moment. That’s what it was supposed to feel like. Not like getting a fix, but like he was finally fitting somewhere. He’d never felt so welcome and in a good way. There was no hiding. He was wanted because he was him.

Alex exhaled slowly as Michael ended the kiss, still sort of hovering a centimeter away. It really wasn’t enough. 

He dove back in to continue the kiss, making it a little deeper and deliberate than the one that preceded it. Michael laughed as Alex rolled him onto his back, placing himself firmly between his thighs and sliding his tongue past his lips. Michael held him close, kissing back just as feverishly and seeming to enjoy the closeness. Alex wondered if this is what he’d been chasing this whole time.

He didn’t want to stop. He never wanted to stop.

And, with Michael so eager, he didn’t see why he would ever have to.

-

Alex Manes was never one to sleep in, but apparently having sex with a not-quite-man could knock you out for hours.

He woke up to someone knocking on his bedroom door and, as much as he wanted to tell them to go away, he couldn’t. He gently pushed Michael off of him since he’d decided to lay on top of him all night and grabbed his pants off the floor, putting them on before he opened it. It would’ve been all nice and fun if he didn’t open it to his brother looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Dad’s here,” he said. Alex suddenly felt a lot more awake.

“What?”

“Our father is here,” Greg said, voice hushed as he leaned a bit closer, “And we’re casually harbouring three fucking wolves.”

“Right. Just… right,” Alex said, looking around as he tried to stop feeling so fucking shaken up. He’d spent so many years no giving a shit what his father wanted anymore, but put a hot, naked wolf-man in his bed and suddenly he was fourteen and trying to explain how the first season of Queer as Folk got stashed under his pillow. “Um, let me get dressed. Stall him?”

“Hurry.”

Alex closed the door behind him and Michael lifted his head at the commotion. His curls were an absolute mess and his face was soft, everything about him making it hard to deny when he reached out towards him. Literally all Alex wanted to do was crawl back into bed with him.

Instead, he said, “Get up.”

Michael whined in protest, but Alex was just quickly throwing on clothes and tying his hair back in a bun as he tried to get him to put clothes on. He sat up in slow motion, a pout on his sweet mouth as he tried to listen. Alex grabbed his jaw, kissing him hard and quick in hopes that it would wake him up a bit more. It did, but he seemed to want to use that energy to pull him back into bed.

“No, look, get up, my dad’s here. Put clothes on, okay? Actually, you know what? Stay in here, don’t leave the room, okay?” Alex said. Michael fed off his fear and gave him a concerned look, nodding his head. “Okay.”

Alex pulled on his shoes and left the room, trying to act normal.

His father stood in the doorway of the cabin, face irritated as he spotted Alex over Greg’s shoulder. He was unsure of where Isobel and Max had gone, but he hoped they were somewhere safe. It felt weird to actually care about two people he hardly knew, but he knew Michael cared about them and that was pretty much all that mattered.

“Either of you care to explain to me what’s going on here?” he asked. Greg and Alex didn’t fork over an answer, but nor did they look at each other for one. They knew their father. They weren’t going to show any sign of guilt.

“Just hanging out with my brother,” Greg said.

“And you skipped the hunt for it? Do you know how bad that looks on me? It’s already bad enough that we have Alex hiding out in the woods and then parading around town with strange men all the time. Do neither of you have any ounce of respect for our family name?” he demanded. Alex searched for his confidence as he gave a cocky smile, hoping that it came off as genuine.

“Not really,” he said. Jesse shook his head in disgust.

“For God’s sake, Alex, you’ve really made it your mission to be a disgrace,” Jesse said. No matter how many walls he built up, that still hit him in his chest. He didn’t show it.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Greg snapped.

“Don’t,” Alex said, shaking his head, “Not worth it.”

Jesse huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I guess I should blame myself for this. I tried so hard to instill comradery in all four of you. Somehow it split into two groups, equally as hard to manage.”

“What do you need, Dad? I’m going hunting tomorrow, so maybe come back in a few days if you need deer,” Alex said. He shook his head.

“No, I had questions about that new friend of yours,” Jesse said, eying Alex. He tried his best not to react. “Forrest told me you had a dog and then you didn’t.”

“I had a dog for, like, two days. It was just one that was hurt and I patched up. He’s gone now,” Alex said, though he couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed. Then again, he knew his father was manipulative as hell. He was pretty sure Forrest had no idea of what his father might take from that little bit of information.

“And that man you were seen with. Where is he from?” Jesse prodded. Alex rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, Dad? You do get that the whole werewolf thing isn’t real, right? It’s a myth,” Alex said. Jesse didn’t buy it. Alex didn’t actually expect him to, but it was worth a shot.

“Both of you are playing with fire,” he said, looking between the two of them, “If I find out what I think I know is true… Both of you will suffer the consequences, do you hear me?”

And Alex heard him loud and clear. It was a simple threat. Stop or I’ll make you stop.

“Okay,” Alex said, “Goodbye.”

He slammed the door shut and locked it, both of them still unable to breathe properly until his truck was gone. It was nerve wracking.

“Alex,” Greg whispered, “I think we’ve dug ourselves into a hole we can’t get out of.”

Alex swallowed harshly and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm down. It was clear that the only alternative to stop or I’ll make you stop was to just leave. He either had to get rid of the wolves or get rid of the town.

And wasn’t that fucked. And, yet, it was simple.”

“I know a way out.”

-

“I feel bad.”

“Don’t.”

“I do.”

Alex held Michael from behind, pressing kisses to the back of his shoulder in an attempt to give him some kind of comfort. After Greg and Alex had talked for a while, they brought up the prospect of leaving the town to the wolves. They’d said it themselves, most of them left. Maybe it was time they did too.

“Maybe we could just go, just me and Izzy and Max. This is your home,” Michael said. Alex sighed and his chest ached at that. He didn’t really want to leave this cabin. It was his and had been passed down for generations. But now that he had confirmation of the beasts he’d been warned about his entire life, it didn’t seem right to stay.

Besides, what was this cabin standing for if not to inspire rebellion?

“I know that sounds like a good idea, but my dad knows we’re hiding something. Even if you leave, we’ve got a target on us,” Alex explained. It was, sadly, the complete truth.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Michael whispered, that guilt so evident in his voice. Alex shook his head and craned his head over his shoulder to steal a kiss. Michael tried his best to reciprocate, but Alex knew he was hurting and it made it hard. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s my dad’s fault for thinking genocide is a fun bonding activity,” Alex pointed out, “Besides, I promised I‘d keep you safe, right? Let me do that for you.”

Michael sniffled and nodded reluctantly. 

After speaking for the entire day after his father left, the plan was to pack everything up over the next two days and then get the fuck out of town. There was a tiny, woodsy tourist town a coupe states over that sounded appealing. They’d stay in a hotel for a few days until they found work and another cabin in the woods, hopefully one a little bigger so Alex could still keep his space. It would all work out. Probably.

It was funny to think that simply a month prior he never would’ve considered uprooting himself for someone else. But he guess he always did say that, when he found that person who was worth it, he’d know.

And he did know.

"Hey, look at me," Alex coerced and he opened his pretty eyes, "This isn't just because of you. This is right and wrong. He's wrong." 

"Yeah," Michael breathed, "Okay." 

"Let's get up and have breakfast and then we can start packing," Alex told him.

Michael was better once he got up and had Isobel and Max to talk to. He seemed to be reminded that their decision wasn't only about him. They both seemed to understand that, if their siblings hadn't been so directly involved, then maybe they would've decided against leaving. But it wasn't about their own safety, it was about the safety of the ones they loved.

Still, Alex itched for alone time and itched for things to go back to the way they were those three weeks where it was just him and Michael. It was calm and they fit. Now, though, Alex just had to deal with adjusting to socializing until he could find a new place to isolate.

He could do it. He did it for the first 16 years of his life.

Alex cooked for them, admittedly feeling a bit odd at Michael's lack of hovering. They'd only hooked up for the first time two nights ago, but Alex already felt more comfortable with him at his side when he was human. It had Alex wondering just how much of that was the wolf in him that made him addictive.

"I called a buddy of mine from out of town," Greg told him, hair slightly toussled from Isobel's hands more than it was sleep, "He said he could get us a job as farm hands out there for a little while. You think you can handle that?"

Alex nodded despite that being the last thing he wanted to do.

"We're looking for land too, right?" Alex clarified. He could take a little bit of working and living in close quarters, but he knew he'd be right back to being a pissy teenager if it was kept up too long. He needed to be alone.

"Yeah. How much do you have saved up? I was gonna go transfer my bank account so dad can't track us," he explained. Alex shrugged. 

"Few thousand. It's all in cash," he answered. Greg nodded as he absorbed that information.

"Okay. I'll see what I can do. It might take a little while to get self-sufficient," Greg said, "Property taxes 'n all."

The more Alex thought about it, the more he felt uncomfortable. He knew leaving was the right thing, he did. But he'd finally gotten to a good place.

"How about this," Alex said, "Once we get a cabin, I stay there and start a garden and hunt. You and Isobel can work since you like being around people." Greg gave him a stupid, older brother look. "Don't. I'll pull my weight and I'll work for awhile, but I can't do that forever or we're all fucked and you know it."

"Yes, but you're used to feeding yourself and maybe Michael. This is stepping up to five people."

"You seem to forget I fed the whole town every hunt. And Max prefers being a wolf, so he can feed himself," Alex pointed out. Greg sighed and nodded.

"I'll try to make it work, okay?" 

"Good."

Alex finished up and made all five plates, dispersing them. Michael took that as his opportunity to hover again and Alex loved it. He stood behind him, nuzzling his nose into Alex's jaw and giving his neck kissed in between bites. He felt so shameless and that was a wonderful feeling.

After they are, Greg, Isobel, and Max left to go pack up things from his house and deal with his bank account. It finally left Alex and Michael alone and Alex felt like he could finish fucking breathe again.

"I'm gonna miss this," Alex admitted as they walked into his bedroom, "Being alone with you all the time."

The plan was to pack, but Michael wrapped his arms around him and dragged him towards the bed. He didn't fight him, instead he just laughed and complied. Except it didn't turn into anything sexy. Michael picked up his brush and took it upon himself to brush Alex's hair before braiding it. Apparently all that intense watching wasn't mindless.

He tied the braid off and tugged him back a bit, pressing a kiss to his jaw. Alex turned into it, sealing the kiss easily. How had he gone all his life without those kisses?

“And you’re sure you won’t hate us for making you leave?” Michael clarified mid-kiss. Alex breathed him in.

“No. You’re just finally giving me an excuse to get away from my dad,” he admitted. Michael nodded and pulled him in for another kiss that quickly escalated into more.

Within the next two days, they found themselves all packed up and ready to go start anew. Alex’s heart broke a little knowing that he was leaving his cabin, but he told himself over and over that it was for the best. It was the only way to get away from his dad and all the shitty connotations that came with that town.

He was going to get away. He was going to breathe again.

He was finally free.

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 73

Warning, PLEASE CHECK TAGS IF YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THEN DON’T READ. | Tag lists are closed | INBOX OPEN.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Will tag as I go along, Will update tags, Slow Burn, Influenced by Star Trek and other Sci-Fi themes, References to We Happy Few, Tons of References and quotes to George Orwells 1984 see if you can find them all, The First Order is the new Big Brother,  but who is really surprised, Blatant Nazi Symbolism, Interrogation Themes, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Really just drawn out Slow Burn, Don’t repost without permission, Torture themes, Suggestive Themes, Execution themes, Disturbing Themes, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Controlling Kylo Ren, Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, A character shamelessly based on Zelda

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

BEFORE YOU READ THE CHAPTER: Very dark themes. You have been warned. Kylo Ren is Not Nice.

Chapter 73: Behind Glass Windows

You didn’t remember being told that you were now docked on earth; you didn’t remember even getting ready to go down to the surface, but you were now watching behind the windows of your eyes as you were in the shuttle being brought down. You could hear and see everything you normally could, but you were behind the glass of your eyes. You couldn’t interact with your world, he was doing that for you. It was like watching a movie about yourself where you couldn’t control anything unless he let you.

You watched as you departed the ship when it made it to the surface; you were now in D.C. you could hear Mitaka say that your family was brought here, for your safety.

You knew your crown was adorning your head, you could see as everyone around you bowed or saluted in your presence. But you were stuck, watching this nightmare unfold before you. You saw them, your parents, your siblings, and their spouses and kids. All a mix of terrified and confused. Your body stopped in front of them, but they did nothing other than stare at you.

You heard Mitaka’s usually timid voice attempt to be confident. “It is the law to bow to the Empress when you are graced with her presence.”

You watched as your older brother attempted to dispute this, “But she’s our sister.” You knew they didn’t want to give you the same respect you had always shown them. You could see the internal struggle within your family. They were terrified to be in this position, but they also believed that being related to you granted them exceptions. It did not.

“I will say it once more. It is law for you to bow in front of the Empress when she graces you with her presence.” Mitaka’s voice was a bit agitated at the blatant disrespect for you. He might be timid in many ways but he loved rules, and what the First Order stood for, and this was showing disrespect in the face of it all.

You watched as your family looked confused and shared looks with each other but they eventually complied to the law. Bowing awkwardly to you, their Empress.

Your mother spoke up, “May I ask why we weren’t invited to your coronation? Your wedding?” Her voice reminded you of all the women in stores who demanded things from workers, that same annoyingly trying to be important tone.  

You didn’t know how to answer but words came out of your mouth anyway, words you couldn’t stop. “You were not invited simply because you are not important enough. You may be the people I happen to share DNA with, but you are not my family.”

Your mother gawked, but your father spoke first, “Now I know you don’t really feel that way.” You could see in his eyes that he was trying to deescalate the situation, trying to reason with you, but you weren’t in control.

The ugly black creature speaking for you, “I am the Empress, you do not have the privilege to tell me what to do.” You could feel its hold on your brain tightening with every word.

“You know that I wasn’t trying to do that,” your father’s voice was reflecting the worry that was plastered across his face. Of course you knew that but that didn’t stop the controlling force on you. You saw your head cock to the side, contemplating their existence in this world.

The monster roared, but your voice masked it. “Execute them.” You watched the creature vibrate with glee, overpowering you, and your wishes.

“M’lady? They are your family,” asked an officer who was in the room, Mitaka staying silent. You could see the hints of concern on his face, knowing something was wrong, that this wasn’t like you.

You watched as you turned to him. “They have wronged the Empress. Execute them.” You then walked away. Your back turned as you heard their confused yells, the education failing them, panic setting in.

You watched the fear in his face, “The children too?” You could hear the unease in the young officer’s voice. You wanted so desperately to tell him no. You watched as you turned back around to face the officer that dared to question you.

“Yes.” Was the answer you gave.

You began to walk away, down the hall to who knows where. You sure didn’t as you weren’t in control of your body, your mind. You were screaming and pounding against the glass that seemed to be preventing you from doing anything. But you watched as the tendrils moved in front of it and around you, being burned by the dying embers around you. You wondered if there would be a way to stoke the fire somehow. But it was just you, the glass wall, the dying embers, the tendrils, and blackness. You knew you had no control anymore, but you were fighting for your life.

You heard a voice speak on the other side of the glass. “Empress, I have some things I would like to catch you up on.” It was General Parnadee. She was here talking to you, in person for the first time in weeks.

You turned to face her. “Yes, general you may proceed.” The words were out of your mouth, you wanted to scream at her to let her know that you weren’t all right. That you needed help. That you were trapped inside your own mind.

She eyed you carefully like she always had, analyzing the situation before her like the expert tactician she was. “It seems someone you knew previously to the annexation to this planet is in coercion with the resistance. I was wondering if you would like to overlook the interrogation. Maybe provide some insight? Or speak yourself?” Her eyes gauging you every movement.

You could see the black creature fill with glee once more. Excited with the possibility of witnessing an interrogation. Its inky threads dancing across your brain. “Yes, I would. Lead the way general.” Shaping and molding the parts it had yet to fully seize.

She eyed you for a moment. You wondered if she could tell that something was off. Hearing yourself speak, you didn’t quiet sound like you, like yourself. You sounded like a different person had access to your voice, because technically that’s what this was. You weren’t controlling you; you did not have power over your body, your mind, you even wondered if you had power over your soul at the moment.

You were lead to a room in the lower levels. It did feel like an interrogation room, when you stepped inside you saw your former boss, Scott, strapped down to a chair. It looked like a torture device, complete with a small black drone droid flying about.

You wanted to know what he was doing here, why he was here. But the creature spoke for you. “You looked relieved Scott? Were you expecting someone else?” You could feel your eyes narrowing at him. The creature turning you into a hunter before its prey. “I’m just glad it’s you and not the supreme leader. I’ve heard the rumors. What he can do to the mind.” You could hear the exhaustion and fear in his voice, and the small sense of relief. The creature narrowed in on the fear.

You felt your head cock to the side. “What rumors?” The creature turning you into a hyena before a dying animal, circling him in the chair.

You could hear the frustration in his voice, obviously, you weren’t displaying the reaction he wanted. “I know you know. That he can tear into someone’s mind. But I know you will get me out of this, I know you know I am innocent. I’ve never done anything to you or the First Order. All you have are lies about me.”  You wanted to believe him, suspecting what the outcome of all of this would be if he was found guilty, but you didn’t have control.

The creature mocking him now, “You see that’s where you are wrong. I know you aren’t innocent Scott. I remember being in the conference room when you said: ‘Well we’re fucked, We are all surely fucked. Who are these people to think they can just take over like that? Do they think we are just going to sit by and let them brainwash us? Let them take everything from us?’ Did you think I forgot that” Your voice now sounded like something out of a horror movie, some fake female sounding voice that came from a monster.

Scott’s eyes were wide. “That doesn’t mean anything surely you know that right? I’m innocent. Please, you know I have a wife and kids.” He could see there was no good outcome for him. He would have to face his death.

“Hmmm yes I do.” The creature teased him, looking for the final kill. “But unfortunately for them, they will have to pay for your actions, just as you will.”

Panic, fear, horrification were just brushing the surface of what he was feeling about what the creature was suggesting. “What does that mean? Please take me and not them. Kill me and let them live.”  

Your head list to the other side. The you that was in control was really toying with him now, like a cat before her already caught prey. Which he was, strapped to the chair, helpless and in tears, afraid for his life. “Yes, you should be grateful that I am unable to tear into your mind, but know this I show the same amount of mercy as my husband. Which is none.”

You turned your back to him and walked out of the room, but not before telling the guard that Scott and his family were to face public execution, as examples of traitors to the first order.

You walked past the general. “I will be present for both executions, I would like them to happen as soon as possible.”

She looked at you, you could see it in her eyes that she knew something was wrong, “Yes, Empress. We are having them in an hour. I have been informed by your ladies-in-waiting that you have been requested to change for the executions.” You were different, and she could tell.

You simply nodded and headed down the hallway. You did not know where you were going, but you ended up in a bedroom where Adlez and Olivia-Rose were waiting, with your new gown for the execution.

“Are you all right m’lady we heard what happened,” asked Olivia-Rose.

The entity spewing harshness, “News travels quick.” You voice came out with a menacing tone. Both of them looked at you and each other, Olivia-Rose was terrified but Adlez was analyzing you. You had never treated them like this before. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the black monster in your head would mess up enough for them to want to do something about it.

But the creature blacked you out, ending any and all conversation, taking you to the execution before it allowed you to see through the windows of your eyes once more.

On the top of the front steps to the Lincoln Memorial, one of the very images that used to define freedom, is where the execution was taking place. The Lincoln statue was removed, in its place was a red banner with the First Order Insignia, its bright red color was like blood against the pure white marble.

It was more than just your family and Scott being executed, there were others lined up, but they didn’t matter to the part of your brain you couldn’t control. You wondered if you could stomach what you were about to witness. What he was about to make you witness. The death of your family.

You felt yourself step forward to address the crowd; you knew once again that the words coming out of your mouth were not your own. “Citizens of Earth, the people before you today have committed the act of treason against you, against the most gracious First Order. I stand before you today as your Empress. Showing you firsthand that I stand behind what is done here, the examples these people will be to you all. Break the rules, cause disorder and you will be eradicated. We will be pure, we will have order, we will be better.”

You stepped back; you knew all eyes were on you, but you were numb to it all. Not feeling the pain that was so clearly in your heart, in your soul. You watched as an Executioner ‘trooper stepped forward. Through the voice distortion, you heard names and the crimes they committed. You watched as Scott went first, his crime being a spy and conspiring with the Resistance. You watched as they forced him to kneel in front of everyone next to a ‘trooper with a laser axe. You watched on horrified at the falling of his head, but the crowd that gathered in front of you was living for it. Shouting various encouragements to the executioners, saying disgusting things to those who were lined up. Next was his wife and two kids, their crime was failing to report a conspirator of the Resistance. Your body not following your will, forcing you to watch, breaking you.

But you weren’t prepared for what you were about to witness next, your family. Your mother, your father, your brothers and sister with their spouses and kids lining up together, a stormtrooper holding each of them, an executioner next to them waiting, waiting for the announcement of their names and crimes. You could see the fear and tears on their faces, some of them trying to look at you, trying to show you their dying eyes. The children and babies not knowing what was happening. What you were about to let the First Order do, knowing you couldn’t stop what was about to happen.

Their death, and your isolation.

You watched as the axes fell in sync; you were alone now. Your family was gone, Kylo on the other end of the galaxy but controlling you. Allowing. No. Forcing this to happen. Forcing your isolation. Forcing their death. The rest of the execution was a blur, the tendrils seemed to decide that you have had enough of being forced to witness things. You didn’t remember the rest of the day, or the next few days as a matter of fact. The inky blackness was all you saw.

[tigerlilynoh]

Title: Don’t Stop Me Now

Author: TigerLilyNoh Rating: Explicit Word count: 8,109 Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Sexual coercion

Summary: When Sam and Dean are captured on a hunt, it’s up to Ruby to save them... in her own special Ruby sort of way.

Ruby felt like she’d been hit by a truck and as soon as she opened her eyes she knew why.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she muttered at the sight of a car’s chassis several inches above her face.

After gingerly checking to make sure she still had all her limbs, she pushed herself out from under the SUV.  She could feel some internal damage, probably a ruptured spleen, kidney and some internal bleeding.  Half her ribs felt fractured, but it wasn’t structurally meaningful.  Her meatsuit could walk and she had bigger concerns.

Sam and Dean weren’t there.  It wasn’t like Sam to just leave her unconscious under a car—Dean was another matter.  He’d ditch her in a heartbeat, especially if they had to chase down a suspect.  She supposed it was possible that Sam had just gone with Dean, after all he knew her well enough that it was clear she’d survive.

Ruby turned around and saw the Impala still where they’d parked it, about ten yards away.  The front passenger side door was open.  As she walked up to it she noticed Dean’s ridiculous chromed pistol laying on the ground.  Beside it was a coaster-sized puddle of blood that turned into a trickling path.  She followed it to the large, unmistakable tire tracks of a van trying to get the hell out of dodge.  It definitely was looking like someone had taken the brothers.

She climbed into the Impala, hot wired the car, readjusted the bench seat so that she could reach the pedals, then started driving back to their motel room as she tried to recall everything she could about the case.

They’d been investigating the deaths of eight locals.  As far as they could tell the victims had gone missing, then five to seven days later their bodies were found in alleys across the city.  The cause of death wasn’t entirely clear.  Each victim had had their heart removed, but three of the bodies showed evidence that it had been extracted postmortem.  And aside from the massive trauma to the chest, there weren’t any significant mauling injuries that would’ve indicated a werewolf.  There had been some bruising around the victims’ wrists, waists, chest, thighs, and ankles, hinting at some sort of restraint, but it lacked the distinctive texture of rope or chains.  

The strangest part was that the bodies had been meticulously cleaned, dressed, and positioned when they were dumped.  Each victim had been left well-groomed and in the muted, neutral clothing palette of some fashion designer that none of them had been sophisticated enough to reference as a joke.  The bruises had even been covered with concealer.

Sam’s research had suggested that they might be dealing with a ghost that killed beautiful people, but there wasn’t any obvious connection between the victims, the places where they were last seen, or where the bodies had been found.  There also didn’t appear to be any record of a single killing in that manner than may have given rise to a disgruntled spirit looking to share its pain.

The three of them had just met up to compare notes over dinner, but they hadn’t even gotten out of the parking lot before things had suddenly gone wrong.  The boys had been dragging their heels, discussing their frustration that the victims seemed squeaky clean and had no connection.  

Well, Dean had pointed out a possible connection.  The victims were all well above average in the looks department—‘babes’ had been the exact word choice that elicited an eye roll from Sam.  Not to mention the victims were good people who seemed completely undeserving of that sort of bad luck… the same bad luck that had befallen Sam and Dean— Ruby decided that she had her own brand of bad luck.  After all, she was the one who’d been hit by a car and knocked out mid-conversation.  And while she was out the guys had been taken, just like the victims… all the gorgeous victims.

She had to admit that Sam and Dean were both fine physical specimens, even if she’d rather eat iron than tell Dean that.  They’d been wearing their boring Fed suits, which weren’t really her thing, but she supposed that somebody had to like them in order for them to keep selling.  But why the fuck would the monster leave her behind?  She’d put a lot of time and energy into finding an attractive meatsuit without a soul.  She glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror, then checked how much of her cleavage was visible.  A good amount of it.  Some bruising from the impact of the SUV was visible just at the edge of her bra’s cups.  Taking a more invasive peek down her shirt she could see the extensive discoloration.  She absentmindedly readjusted her bra before texting Sam and Dean’s cells, asking for them to call her on the very unlikely chance she’d misinterpreted the situation.  

Patting the dashboard of the Impala, she said, “It’s okay, girl.  We’ll find the boys.”

Sam was an excellent researcher; he loved getting into a pile of books more than Dean and her.  Yet despite his reputation as the team nerd, there were some areas of knowledge that were found more easily mastered through experience… languages being one of them.  

Once Ruby had gotten back to their motel room, she began flipping through Sam’s notes on the case and slowed down as she read his attempt at a translation of Andalusi Arabic.  He’d done a valiant job considering the language had been dead for three centuries— Well, she wasn’t sure whether a language was technically dead if the active dead spoke it, as she did.  She rolled her eyes at the fact that he’d probably spent hours translating what she could’ve done in a minute because he hadn’t bothered asking if she was familiar with the language.  Granted at the time she’d been busy running a few hustles with Dean at a nearby bar for some easy cash.

Looking at Sam’s translation she could see where he’d missed a few nuances.  Rather than a ghost that was attracted to physically beautiful people, they were actually dealing with a flesh and blood monster called an Aashtann.  They were beautiful creatures, who retained their beauty by killing people who were beautiful, both physically and who acted with inner beauty or noble purpose.  She could definitely see Sam fitting the bill, but it was hard to imagine Dean acting nobly… well, she supposed he did sincerely want to save people from monsters, so maybe that was close enough as far as the aashtan was concerned.  With a better idea of what they were looking for, she decided to bypass some of the elbow-grease-based effort that Sam was known for.  She didn’t have time to spend all night in the library.

Ruby hurried to the closest street intersection, stood in the middle, then shouted, “Crowley!”

As a demon, she didn’t need to go through all the normal Crossroads formalities.  Any intersect would act as an open mic to the entire Crossroads.  The question was whether there was a demon left in Hell that could stand to play nice with her.  Crowley seemed like her best bet.  At the very least he’d probably be disappointed if Sam and Dean were no longer alive and available for him to periodically torment for kicks.

“You don’t have to yell,” Crowley commented from where he was sitting on the bus stop bench next to the intersection.  He sipped his perpetually-on-hand glass of 1979 Port Ellen.  When Ruby went over and sat down next to him, he added, “you look terrible.”

“I was hit by an SUV,” she explained while taking the glass from his hand and helping herself to his scotch.

“I meant your haircut,” he jabbed.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Sam and Dean are missing, I need you to find them—“

“No.  No deal.”  Crowley shook his head.  “I’m not going to be your deus ex machina.  Do you know how much of my time I would spend if I took requests like that?  Do you have any idea how often Moose or Squirrel are in danger?”

“I’m painfully aware of it,” Ruby groaned.  “Can I at least get some intel from you?”

“It depends on what it is.”  Crowley made a show of checking his wristwatch.  “I have a meeting in an hour.  The time between now and then is all the due diligence I’m willing to part with.”

“I want to know about aashtan and I don’t have time to go to the fucking library.”

“And why are you asking me?”

“You sell people their sins wrapped in a bow.  Vanity is on the list and these things live for it.”  She reluctantly handed back the glass as a peace offering now that she was actually asking for help.  “I think one of those things took them.”

“I’m not surprised.”  Crowley hummed in agreement at the thought or maybe just recalling the Winchesters’ blessed genetics.

“I’m looking for any intel that I can use to find them and on how to kill these aashtan things.”

“You know how this works.  I’m bartering for souls, and you my dear, don’t have one.”

“You want Dean’s?”  She smiled despite her concern for the brothers.  “I’ll trade you that.”

“I’ll pay you to keep both of their souls away from me,” Crowley huffed.  “Those two are like a waking blight.  You’re lucky you’ve survived this long.”

“I’m tough to kill.”

“I’ve noticed.”  He stared pointedly at her.  “There are several dozen vacancies in Hell’s finest that can corroborate that.  By the way, everyone would appreciate it if you stop killing our people.”

“Can I trade that for the intel?” she asked with a grin of false innocence.

“Like I personally care about a few more dead grunts.”  Crowley looked at her for a moment, then said, “I want your help with a ritual.”

“A ritual?”

“You were a witch, weren’t you?  I need some help cracking an egg.”

She didn’t like the sound of that.  “What kind of egg?”

“The interdimensional gateway kind.”

“On Earth?” she asked warily.

“Heavens no, In Hell,” Crowley assured her.  “We’re just looking to expand our real estate investment into the area next to Purgatory.”

“Deal.”  She quickly pointed to him, adding, “and I’m not on the hook if you unleash any Lovecraftian Old Ones.”

“Deal.”  Crowley offered her a handshake, then told her “one moment,” before teleporting back to Hell to collect her intel.  

She sat there on the bus stop bench and checked her phone for the tenth time to see if Sam had returned her text.  Still nothing.  

Crowley reappeared with a full glass of scotch and a worn parchment pamphlet.  “I pinched you the Cliffnotes.  But the good news is that your boys probably aren’t dead yet.”

“Well, that’s great,” Ruby said as she started skimming the booklet, squinting to read the fading ink in the dim illumination of the streetlight.  “And Sam’s my boy, Dean’s just the readily available organ donor.”  She held the parchment close to her face to take a closer look.  “What are these aashtan guys into Feng Shui?”

“Something like that,” Crowley acknowledged.  “Their love of beauty includes more than just their prey.  Aashtan like to stay in buildings that fit a bland, modern, geometric aesthetic, constructed with a south-facing corner that’s less than a 90° angle.  God knows how they survived through the Baroque period.”

“There can’t be more than one of those…” Ruby started saying as she finished searching for the rare architectural characteristic on her phone.  “Fucking pretentious architects.  Brent Hilton, award-winning postmodernist architect of the year.  He’s known for his acute angles and has fifteen commercial buildings and thirty homes in the metropolitan area.”

“Are you going to go door-to-door spreading the good word?” Crowley asked.

“Do I even have time to check forty-five buildings before they’re dead?”  She scrolled through the architectural journal’s article a bit more, then groaned.  “And half of them aren’t even listed.”

“The aashtan drain the blood of their victims over the course of 24 hours before removing and eating the heart.”  Crowley raised an eyebrow at her.  “How long have they been missing?”

“Maybe a half hour”  Ruby did some quick math.  Assuming that blood loss occurs at a constant rate, she only had about eight hours to get them back without risk of serious injury or death from blood loss.  “I need to find this fucking building.”

“The boys are both fairly large.  I don’t suppose it’ll take longer for them to bleed out because of that,” Crowley mused almost academically, though she suspected there was a hint of concern below the surface.

Ruby stood up and tucked the pamphlet on aashtan into her back pocket, then told him, “if you can give me a lead on Brent Hilton I’ll make sure no Old Ones waltz into your neighborhood.  Call my cell.  I’ve gotta make a run.”

He didn’t shoot her down, instead tilting his head from side to side in a noncommittal gesture.  “Where are you going?”

“The blood bank.”

Ruby was cleaning their motel room mini fridge out of its leftover cherry pie and four bottles of beer when her cell rang.  She answered the phone, then positioned it between her shoulder and her head so that she could keep working.

“Has the King of the Crossroads won my fealty?” she asked with a hint of sarcasm in her voice while stuffing eight intravenous bags of O- blood into the fridge.

“What’s the fealty of a peon worth?” Crowley snarked right back.  “It turns out Brent Hilton is on the naughty list.  Based on all his minor infractions, it looks like he spends most nights at The Spot, a bar on the edge of downtown.”

“What put him on the naughty list?”

“I’d prefer to not tell you.”

In her surprise she stopped manipulating the bags of blood, cause two of them to slip from her grasp and flop onto the carpet.  “Really?”

“I have a wager with Abyzou about whether you kill him.”

That didn’t bode well.  She grabbed the two bags, stuffed them in and slammed the mini fridge shut, hoping that the seal would hold.  When it didn’t end up regurgitating the blood packets, she stood up and went over to her duffel bag.

“How’d you bet?” she asked as she grabbed her knife and tucked it into the back of her belt.

“Well that would spoil the bet now, wouldn’t it?” Crowley purred.  “Happy hunting.”

Sure enough, Brent Hilton was sitting at the bar counter at The Spot and he looked like just as much as a preppy douche as she’d imagined.  His blonde hair had way too much gel in it.  The salmon polo shirt that he was wearing contrasted horribly with his rosy skin.  And he was wearing fucking khaki slacks.  For a brief moment she wondered if fashion sense was sufficient to put some people on the naughty list.  But she had to try shaking this guy for intel, so she put on a fake smile.

“Are you him?  Are you Brent Hilton?  The postmodernist architect.”  Ruby just assumed that some award-winning pretentious designer wouldn’t doubt the existence of a fan and would probably happily brag about his accomplishments.  She took the empty bar stool next to him.

“Why yes, yes I am.”  He smiled at her, turning to give her his full attention.  “I take it you’re familiar with my work.  Maybe the Arcadia?” he asked, shamelessly name-dropping his award-winning work.

“I think it’s stunning.”  She didn’t have any sincere compliments so she opted for vagueness.  “I read the recent article on you in Modern Design Quarterly.  I was so impressed I ended up visiting all of the buildings that were listed and doing a photoset of them for my portfolio.”

“You’re a photographer?”  Brent grinned at her and his eyes scanned her body.  “I would’ve guessed a model.”

Ruby forced herself to smile in a bit of feigned flattery.  “I’m actually just putting together my work portfolio and I thought what better subject than your designs.  The article said that there were twenty three other buildings that you’d designed, but that weren’t listed—”

“Those ones were purchased by various private investors over the years.”  He wave his hand in a gesture of disinterest at the business of his work, then pounding the last of his martini.  “I’m under contract not to disclose their addresses.”

“I wouldn’t bother anyone, I’d just like to see them from the street,” Ruby pressed.

“And your photos would end up in a collection and that wouldn’t look very good would it?”  His voice had turned very condescending.  “But if you’d like, I can show you some of my current projects.”

“Are they under construction?” she asked, wondering if the aashtan might be using a new, unsold building.

“Still just blueprints.”  Brent could probably tell that wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for because he placed his hand on hers.  His thumb caressed her wrist in a wholly unwelcome move.  “Maybe we could figure something out?”  He spread his legs, then raised an eyebrow.

Ruby felt like she could put money down on why he’d made the naughty list and why there was a wager over whether she’d kill him.  She resisted the urge to just slam his head into the bar counter, causing a scene.  “I’m seeing someone,” she replied, hoping that he’d just take the fucking hint.

Instead he leaned forward until he was far too close for comfort.  He took her hand and placed it on his crotch, then rubbed her hand against his partially hard dick.  “I won’t tell.”

Her first instinct was to bludgeon the guy to death with his own smug face—she wasn’t sure how that would logistically work, but she had faith in her ingenuity.  Yet though she enjoyed vengeance as much as the next demon, she knew that things could easily get out of hand when mixing torture and business.  Anyway, Crowley had waged on her murdering him, and she would’ve loved to make him lose that bet if at all possible.  Even though she wasn’t sure which side the Crossroads demon had taken, his parting statement of ‘happy hunting’ made her suspect that Crowley had put his money on murder.

She glanced at the clock on the wall.  There was still seven hours left to get the information from Brent, then plan and execute a rescue mission.  Sam and Dean were obviously her top priority, but pummeling intel out of a person in a crowded bar was only so effective and she had a potentially-literal axe to grind with this perve.  As long as she didn’t take too much time she could deal with this guy.

“Is there somewhere private we can go?” Ruby asked quietly.

She let him lead her out to the parking lot.  He opened the door to the back seat of a brand new Mercedes-Benz, then climbed in.  She coyly followed him.  After getting inside she closed and locked the door behind her.  He unzipped his pants, then pushed them and his boxers down to his mid-thighs.  She stared at his dick, thoroughly unimpressed.

“Go on,” he instructed.  

He reached forward, eager to push her head down into his lap, but she leaned back out of his grasp.  Before he could complain, she slid her right hand along his dick until she was at the base of it, then wrapped around to hold his balls too.  Her smile turned menacing as she squeezed.  He cried out in pain and tried to sit up, but Ruby grabbed his throat with her left hand and slammed his head into the opposite side door, cracking the window slightly.  He punched at her face, but instead of trying to dodge or block, she took the hit and tightened her inhuman hold on him.

“Every time you hit me it’s just gonna get worse.  So just tell me what I want to know or I will rip your goddamn dick off.”  She dug her nails in, making him to yell.  “I’m looking for a building with a south-facing corner that’s less than a 90° angle.  Somewhere that people can be hiding out with prisoners.”

“I… I don’t—”  He gasped when she squeezed a little tighter.  “Not the houses!  The positioning isn’t right.  One of the office buildings—The ones by Market Street or in the Financial—”

“Hiding prisoners,” she reminded him as she twisted for good measure.  “Someplace with not many people.”

“The corner of Franklin and Grant.”  He was crying, face bright red, snot dribbling from his nose.  “It’s vacant—I consulted on the remodel, but they don’t have a seller yet.”   

Some people came out of the bar.  She clutched Brent’s throat tighter, partially impeding his cries for help. She began shifting her weight rhythmically, rocking the car, then let out a few fake moans of pleasure.  The group started snickering, then turned to head another direction, giving them some privacy.

“How long ago was the remodel?” she continued.

“Five months,” he choked.  That was consistent with when the eight victims had started disappearing.

“Don’t you ever take advantage of another woman.”  She blinked her eyes black, causing him to yelp, then leaned in close to snarl in his ear.  “Or I’ll be back and you’ll lose more than the dick.”

She let go of his crotch, made a fist, and pretended to punch him in the face, but instead she hit the window behind him, shattering it before she disappeared.  After teleporting back to the motel room, she washed her hands.  It took a little extra scrubbing to get the blood out from under her fingernails.

She teleported over to be a hundred yards down the street from the corner of Franklin and Grant, then walked into a coffee shop with a large window that offered an excellent view of the three-story building’s full length.  After compulsively checking the time —five hours left— she ordered a quadruple shot of espresso and took a seat by the window.  She couldn’t help but appreciate the poor taste of her sitting around sipping an espresso while Sam and Dean were likely across the street being slowly drained of their blood.  Of course, she was still doing reconnaissance and formulating a plan.  It wasn’t her fault that she needed an excuse to sit and stare at the building for a long while.

She could see people moving around in the upper floor, but they weren’t bothering to turn on the lights—hardly the behavior of lawful occupants.  But that was another problem… there were people, not person.  By her rough guess maybe ten of them.  It was a fucking nest.

Two people exited the front of the building.  They were dressed in beige and grey ensambles, the man a suit and the woman in a knee-length dress with an awful, blocky three-quarter sleeve blazer.  The woman even wore impractical five-inch clear acrylic heels. Truly Ruby had found her monsters.

She took a moment to run her fingers along her soft, dark purple leather jacket while she considered her enemies.  They looked absurd.  Objectively they were absurd.  Bloodletting monsters that were so obsessed with appearances and their haute aesthetic that they wore clothing that was just begging for blood stains.  And those fucking shoes, how was anyone supposed to fight in five-inch heels?  

Actually, how did they even beat Sam and Dean in a fight?  It was easy to explain how she’d been bested; she’d been hit by a several hundred horsepower, two-ton fist.  Evidently she was expendable, but the boys weren’t.  And if they had to have their blood drained as part of a ritual, that meant taking them with minimal injuries.

“One more and you can keep the change if I don’t have to get up,” Ruby told the barista as she waved a twenty dollar bill above her head.  Predictably, the money was collected a few seconds later and her order skipped the line.

She sat there reading the pamphlet on aashtan while periodically eyeing her target.  Crowley had told her about some of their habits, but she needed the sorts of details that counted in a fight.  Namely: How they were able to subdue two trained hunters?  And how could she kill them?

The answer to the latter question made her smile subtly.  According to the lore, aashtan needed to have their bodies disfigured, to lose their prized beauty, before losing at least half their blood.  Ruby thought for a few minutes on how she’d like to tackle those steps, then did some quick searching online for local sources of her choice weapons.  She’d have to make a trip to go collect some goodies after her coffee.

The answer to the question of how the aashtan had subdued Sam and Dean was less delightful.  Apparently, the aashtan had the ability to disorient and fatigue their victims.  The effectiveness of this ability was directly related to the amount their target fell within the criteria of their prey.  That helped explain why Dean’s gun had been left at the scene, seemingly having been dropped after an attempt at self-defense.  Sam was a better fit as a beautiful body and mind, and had probably been easily subdued.  Dean was more debatable in his moral purity, but altruistically trying to protect future victims or his brother could’ve easily checked the box.

Ruby didn’t consider herself anywhere near Sam’s status as a would-be saint but for a few of his small vices—well, mostly just her.  But she considered herself to be somewhere on the same moral plane as Dean.  They both engaged in plenty of turpitudinous fun, with one major difference.  She was a fucking demon.  No one knew what Dean’s excuse was.  So if she was playing with a moral handicap, and trying to save Sam had put Dean into a vulnerable state, then what would happen when she tried to save both of them?  How fucked would she be?

But if the vulnerability came from being tasteful or pure, then she’d have to resist it through raucousness and self-indulgence.  Her rescue mission was about saving Sam and Dean, but it had to be more than that otherwise she could easily become another victim.  She needed to turn away from the elegance and nobility of a surgically precise mission if she wanted to be most effective at fighting the aashtan.  It was time to fight the aashtan on a whole other level, pitting their bland haute aesthetic against her own theatrical debauchery.  She stood up, walked over to the counter and stole someone’s to-go order on her way out the door.  It was time to be a little bad.  It was time to have a little fun.

After gathering supplies from the local Asian cultural museum and a nearby U.S. Army armory.  She dropped her equipment off at the motel room for safekeeping before beginning the first phase of her little rescue mission.

The building where Sam and Dean were being held was in the middle of the city and she was planning on a fight that could easily cause a scene.  Personally she didn’t care about witnesses, but Sam and Dean would probably be annoyed by avoidable innocent deaths.  Not to mention, if the cops showed up then they might start shooting and risk hurting the brothers.  She needed to create a big distraction in as little time as possible.

Ruby grabbed a can of red spray paint from the trunk of the Impala as well as Dean’s pistol, then teleported downtown.  She waited at the public bus stop, counting the number of bystanders.  When the bus pulled up, she stepped onto it and held the pistol up for the five passengers and the driver to see.

“Everyone get off,” she ordered.

The frightened passengers and driver hurried off the bus, running for cover.  With the three pedestrians making a total of eight people potentially calling 911, she guessed that she had about 45 seconds before she had to get moving.  

She closed and locked the bus doors, then took out the can of red spray paint and began writing random words in Luhya just to confuse the situation even anymore.  Tossing the can aside, she put in her earbuds and began playing Queen’s Greatest Hits.  She sat down in the driver’s seat, then started the strangest joyride of her life.

It only took three minutes of driving around the streets aimlessly for her to count nine cop cars chasing her.  The late hour left the city streets largely free of traffic, but she occasionally swerved to avoid a car and ended up sideswiping a dozen parked cars, tearing off car doors and setting off alarms.  

“Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time—” she sang as she made a detour to take out a few tabloid newspaper dispensers.  

“—I feel alive and the world I'll turn it inside out”

She plowed through a police barricade as the music swelled.

“—So don't stop me now don't stop me—”

Checking her side mirrors she noticed two more police cruisers join in the pursuit.  That seemed like it was enough.  

“—I'm a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva—”

She swerved, cutting across a business plaza, taking out several small trees.

“—I'm gonna go go go—”

The bus bounced as she took a curb at 50 miles an hour.

“—There's no stopping me!”

The bus crashed through the glass floor-to-ceiling windows of the First National Bank building.  She took care to avoid the security desk and even offered the stunned guard a grin as she sped by.  Particle board, stuffing, and navy blue polyester exploded across the bus’s windshield as she took out the lobby’s seating area.  She turned the wheel one last time to flip the bus, sending it sliding on its side to collide with a row of teller stations.  Papers and loose dollar bills rained down on the bus, but Ruby had already teleported away.  The police would likely spend a few hours searching for the mysterious woman who had stolen a bus and used it to break into a bank.  With the attention focused there, she’d teleported back to collect the Impala and her supplies.  It was showtime.

Ruby parked the Impala just outside the building’s back exit.  She rechecked to make sure that the beer cooler was doing a good enough job keeping the bags of blood cold.  Opening up the trunk, she took a moment to gather her conviction before holstering her weapons.  Checking her reflection in the passenger side window, she fixed the collar of her leather jacket, then teleported inside.

Rather than leaping directly into the fight, she stopped at the security room.  There were a dozen security monitors depicting various rooms throughout the building.  She counted ten aashtan.  After consulting a digital blueprint of the building, she determined that Sam and Dean were being held in the north corner of the third floor.  The brothers were both bound to the tops of large, heavy wooden tables with fabric bands.  Most of the aashtan seemed to be milling about in an open-concept workspace that took up the majority of that same floor.  With the brothers probably weakened, she’d have to more or less take out all the aashtan in order to protect their retreat, which would likely be slow thanks to the brothers’ blood loss.

As she was turning to leave she noticed the controls for the emergency lighting system and the microphone for the building-wide PA system.  She pulled out her earbuds and shrugged to herself.  It only took her a minute to figure out how it worked, then to pick the right song.

Killer Queen started playing throughout the building.  She paused a moment to check the monitors.  The aashtan were looking around at each other, urgently talking as they started unpacking sleek, brushed stainless steel knives and swords.  She noticed that Dean had lifted his head at the music, then lowered it back to the table’s surface.  His mouth formed the shapes of an unmistakable ‘son of a bitch’ before he started saying something to Sam.  Sam replied, but he was visibly slower and he didn’t bother opening his eyes—he was in worse shape.

She wanted to go up there and save him, but she had to watch herself.  Aashtan had a way of messing with people who had honorable intentions.  An affectionate, streamlined rescue mission was just the sort of thing that might screw her up.  She had to try to indulge and treat the battle like a dance literally set to her own tune.

Before going up to meet her very confused audience, she went to a utility closet on the first floor.  After a little searching she located the water pipe for the sprinkler system.  She hesitated for a moment before reminding herself that all the furniture and carpets in those sorts of office buildings were flame retardant anyway.  Two good kicks to a joint in the pipe caused it to break, pouring water all over the floor.

Ruby teleported to the third floor, into a waiting area just before the fortified work area.  The flashing red emergency lights pulsed in rhythm to the music.  She waited a few beats to sync up her entrance with the song, then kicked open the double doors, breaking half the hinges on one of them.  The aashtan watched as she strolled into the room.  She smiled and casually raised her flamethrower as the music announced her presence.  

“She’s a Killer Queen.”

It’d been years since Ruby had used a flamethrower, but this seemed as good an occasion as any.  The flames would disfigure the aashtan, then she could go in with another approach to drain them of their blood.  Besides, flamethrowers were fun and this was a time to treat herself a bit.

When she realized that the aashtan were waiting to see who would make the first move, she decided to oblige them.  Ruby sidestepped a few paces to the left until she was positioned next to a six-foot tall, abstract sculpture made out of smoky glass that made her think of a tornado that had destroyed the Epcot sphere.  She placed her foot against its narrow base.  Without taking her eyes off the horrified-looking aashtan, she tipped it over, shattering the artwork.

Enraged, the aashtan charged at her and she aimed her weapon.  A burst of flame lit up a group of three, but she had to stagger backward in order to dodge a sword.  She bounced forward and followed through with a swift kick to a male aashtan’s crotch.  Her steel-toed boot connected with what she assumed was the equivalent of his balls, then she shot him in the face at point blank range with the flamethrower.

Having lost track of various foes in the sudden chaos, Ruby spun around in a circle, firing a ring of flame around her at chest height.  Three more aashtan joined the five of their allies that were rolling on the floor trying to extinguish themselves.

A female aashtan lunged at her head with a knife.  Ruby tried to evade, but suffered a cut across the cheek and nose.  Using her offhand, Ruby grabbed the attacker’s knife-wielding arm, then headbutted her.  The aashtan stumbled back, dazed by the brutish move before Ruby let her have it with the flamethrower.

A male aashtan started running for the room where Sam and Dean were being held.  Ruby teleported to intercept him.  

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she told him, then immediately started feeling dizzy and tired as the room around her blurred.  It was their disorientation effect.  Her switch in motivation had made her more vulnerable.  Knowing what was happening to her just made her angry.  She embraced that anger and let it propel her back into the fight.  Her vision and mind cleared while her blood boiled.  “You think you can take advantage of my fucking goodness?!”

He swung a sword at her, but she ducked below the swing.  As his body turned from filling through on the swing, she shoved him in the same direction as his momentum, spinning him around.  She kicked him in the back, knocking him to the ground.

“I work hard for this shit!” she yelled at him as she sprayed him with fire.  “I’ve killed armies to get where I am.  So don’t you assholes dare fuck with my goodness!”

From across the room, one of the aashtan fired several shots at her with a pistol.  One connected with her chest near her left shoulder and another hit her right thigh.  After realizing that she hadn’t exploded from the bad luck of having a bullet hit her flamethrower’s gas tank, she glanced over at the wall and door of the room where Sam and Dean were to check for bullet holes.  There weren’t any.  Evidently the angle of attack hadn’t been such to put them in danger.

Ruby glared pointedly at the aashtan who had shot at her and shook her head.  She raised the flamethrower at him while he attempting to reload the unfamiliar weapon, then she started walking with ominous purpose.  When he began backing away while clumsily pushing the magazine into the gun, she opted to half-jogging half-skipping after him in a leisurely chase around the workspace because it seemed to terrify him all the more.

One of the charred aashtan that was still on the ground tried to grab her, but Ruby dodged, kicked it in the face, then gave it another round of fire before resuming her chase.  

The guy with the gun finally took position to fire at her again, so she teleported to be next to him, then grabbed the pistol and yanked it out of his hands.  He elbowed her in the face, but she pistol-whipped him several times before shoving him away from her and lighting him up like the others.  Since she was a demon and the aashtan could only be killed by catastrophic blood loss, the handgun was only effective against Sam and Dean.  She pulled the slide off of the pistol, dismantling it, then threw the pieces to opposite sides of the room.

All of the aashtan appeared to be sufficiently disfigured.  Half of them were still rolling on the floor trying to put out the flames, one had forgotten to stop-drop-and-roll and instead was running around screaming, but a handful of them had somewhat recovered and had their weapons at the ready.  She had to spill a lot of blood and do it before the flaming office furniture really ignited the building itself.  She slipped off the flamethrower and tossed it aside, then removed her new weapons from their improvised holsters.

Ruby took a moment to cherish the truly menacing appearance of the pair of Chinese hook swords that she was holding.  Each sword was just under two feet long with the tip of the slashing weapons shaped into a bladed hook that was large enough to wrap around an enemy’s wrist or ankle.  The handles each had a fingerguard that consisted of another cutting edge, and the butts of the handles were adorned with yet another three-inch long blade.  They were literally two pieces of steel containing fourteen razor sharp edges, all backed by the physical strength of a demon.  She was ready to make them bleed.

As a new song came on, she playfully tapped her foot to the music, inviting further enraged attacks with her tasteless behavior.  Sure enough, two female aashtan with knives charged her at the same time.  Ruby parried one blade after the other, right sword for right attacker, left sword for left attacker.  After deflecting the attacks, she swung both swords inwards in a scissor-like cut, slashing both women’s torsos.  While they were still shaking off the counterattack, Ruby kicked the left one back so that she could focus on one foes at a time.

“It swings—” she sang along to the music while slicing one of the right one’s throat.

“—It jives—”  She lunged forward, decapitating the one that had been on her left, then kept moving.

A flaming desk chair went hurling right at Ruby’s head.  She managed to dodge it, but was immediately tackled from behind, knocking her to the ground.  The aashtan stabbed her twice in the back before grabbing her hair and bashing her face into the floor.  Ruby held the hook swords up behind her head, then repeated the scissor-slice motion.  A shower of 98.6° liquid showered her followed by a limp body.  

“I kinda like it—” she continued singing loudly while shaking the blood and body off of her.

“—Crazy little thing called love.”

A male aashtan with a sword swung at her, cutting a gash across her chest that gouged the bone.  She blocked another attack with her offhand, then sliced his main hand off at the wrist causing his sword to drop to the ground.  When he tried to pick the sword back up, she maneuvered the hook end of her swords to grab his torso and physically stopped him from getting the weapon.  She wanted to use one of her swords to cut him, but they’d both been imbedded with a bit too much force, so she awkwardly tugged a couple times trying to dislodge one from his ribcage.  On the third attempt, she braced her foot against his chest, then yanked, tearing him in half.  Turning to her right, she saw the female aashtan in the five-inch heels moving to attack her, but quickly swept the aashtan’s feet out from under her.  

“They aren’t fucking practical!” Ruby shouted to her for over the music.  “If you’re gonna murder people—“ she sliced through the woman’s throat, causing blood to splatter onto her own stain-resistant black boots.  “—wear smart footwear.”

She’d barely taken a breath when another one jumped her, stabbing her in the chest.  Rather than wasting energy on taking out the knife, she punched the aashtan in the face, embedding the bladed hand guard several inches into his skull just above the nose.  She shook him off her weapon, then took a nice long horizontal slice across the torso for good measure.

“I gotta be cool—” she kept singing just to piss them off.

“—relax—”  A swift upward swing, cleaved a male aashtan in half from crotch to neck.

“—”get hip—”

The last three came at her from different directions, so she interlocked the swords’ hook ends, then let go of the left one.  Ducking down a bit to avoid hitting herself, she swung the right sword around her.  The two temporarily connected swords acted as a four foot long whip of blade that cut deep wounds in the three aashtan, including slitting a throat.  Quickly grabbing the left sword’s handle, she unhooked her swords.

“This thing called love—”  She cut down one of the injured aashtan. “—I just can't handle it.”

“This thing called love—”  She blocked another attack, then decapitated the last aashtan with her counterattack.  “—I must get round to it.”

She glanced around the room and counted the bodies, then made her way to go collect Sam and Dean.

“Crazy little thing called love.”

She walked back over to the door to the room where the boys were being held.  Before opening the door, she grabbed a nearby desk that was on fire and threw it to the opposite side of the room in order to give them a bit more time to leave.

Sam and Dean were both bound to their respective tables with what had to be wide, 900 thread-count cotton straps.  They both had an IV in each arm, which was slowly drained their blood into brushed stainless steel basins.  Sam’s basins appeared noticeably fuller, but probably not enough to justify how much weaker he appeared.  It was possible that the disorienting effect of the aashtan had hindered him all the more.  Either that or maybe Dean’s blood just flowed at a trickle with all the alcohol and caffeine that he consumed acting as a diuretic.  

“You couldn’t have played Zepp?” Dean asked as soon as she’d entered the room.

“Next time you cut through a whole nest by yourself, you can pick the fucking music,” Ruby shot back as she hurried over to Sam.  She cut him free with her knife, pulled out the tubes from his arms, then applied two very temporary bandages.  When he didn’t react much more than rolling his head to one side, she asked, “Sam, you awake?”

“Pretty sure,” he murmured.

She cut Dean’s bonds and pulled out his IVs.  She bandaged his dominant arm, but left him to take care of the other himself while she turned her attention back to Sam.

“Do you think you can you walk?” she asked Dean.

“Stumble maybe,” Dean groaned as he rolled off the table.  It took him a few seconds to get up off the floor, but he seemed in decent enough shape that she wasn’t worried.

“I can get Sam, if you can get the doors and spot me on the stairs.”

Dean walked into the thoroughly destroyed workspace, and began looking around, then asked, “why is the building on fire?”  

“I lit it on fire,” Ruby replied as she hoisted Sam onto her back for a comically ill-proportioned piggyback ride.

“As long as... you meant to,” Sam replied with a pitiful shrug.  She couldn’t reach up to pat him reassuringly, so she settled for leaning her cheek against the side of his head.

Dean returned holding a severed head.  He stared at her with the knowing half-smile of a man who was trying not to display his admiration.  She tried to shrug at him, but couldn’t with Sam piled on her back.  Instead she gave a little smirk.

“Somebody’s got anger issues,” Dean commented.

“Yeah, and you’re one of them.”  Ruby nodded in the general direction of the stairwell entrance.  “Get the fucking door.”

They carefully made their way down the stairs.  Unfortunately, the strain of supporting Sam’s weight made all of Ruby’s stab wound flow liberally with blood.  She wouldn’t complain about her ruined clothes, but after having someone be nearly decapitated directly above her… well, she didn’t want to think of the dry cleaning bill.  

Halfway down the stair the music cut out having possibly been a victim of the first floor sprinklers.

“You owe me a new iPod,” Ruby muttered to Dean.

“Eat me.”  Dean let go of his intense grip on the arm rail in order to flip her off properly.

“If you want to get eaten, you can go back to the aashtan—oh wait, you can’t because I killed them all saving your ass.”  Ruby paused at the second floor landing, then shifted in order to get a better grip on Sam.

“I can’t believe you can lift him,” Dean commented, waving his hand toward Ruby carrying someone twice her size and weight.

“It’s not the first time I’ve had him on me.”

“One sec, I need to go back and burn my eyes out,” Dean joked, then pretended to turn back towards the fire.

They made it down the stairs and out the back door without anyone collapsing.  Ruby deposited Sam into the backseat of the Impala, then carefully straddled him.  The holes in his elbows had continued to bleed while he was being evacuated, but at least the bandage had slowed it down a bit.  She redressed his elbows, then folded his arms up to help apply pressure.  Once the damage was mitigated she started an IV by his collarbone, connected a bag of blood from the cooler, then held it above him to let gravity do its work.

“You sure you should be driving?” Ruby asked Dean as he squeezed into the driver’s seat.

“I’m fine.  Sam’s the one they really went in on—Jesus Christ, Ruby.  It’s like a ten year old was fucking driving,” Dean groaned as he repositioned the bench seat.  

“Just be glad I didn’t weld it in place.”

Ruby tried to clean herself up as much as possible considering the quantity of arrant blood that had followed the three of them into the car.  At a particularly long traffic light, Dean allowed Ruby to put an IV in him.  It was a long night and she was kneeling in the backseat holding up bags of blood for her hunter companions.

“Hey Dean, can you drive through someplace?  I’d kill for a burger and fries.”

[ael-xander]

Ti’taris Awakening

(Warning- we’re straying into NC-17 at this point. Be warned.)

Chapter Two

<I>His hands caressed her body, his mouth seeking hers. The kiss they shared was more than just the physical; it felt like the world lived through them. “You’re beautiful, Lysse,” he whispered in her ear, his accent providing a musical lilt. “Being here with you is something I never thought would happen.”

Lysse looked into his molten brown eyes, flashing him a smile. “I love being here with you, Ram. This is more than any woman deserves, especially someone as soft as me.”

The music in the background caught her attention. Her eyes flashed with amusement. “Duran Duran?”

“Do you mind? I love their new album, especially this song. It’s inspirational, Reach Up For The Sunrise. In my world, it’s part of what we battle for- a new day.” His hands stroked her cheeks and down her throat. “Just as you are something I strive for, my muse.” Suddenly words stopped as his mouth kissed her jawline, then down her suddenly sensitive throat. Fisting her hands in his spiky hair, she murmured something incomprehensible as his lips dived lower placing whisper light kisses over the top of her breasts. Her lips kissed the top of his head, amazed at the silkiness of his hair. “Ram—“

“Shh, my darling.” His mouth closed over one dusky nipple and suckled hard. Lysse’s body bowed in response, her muscles clenching and unclenching in desire. His free hand cupped her other breast, his thumb playfully brushing back and forth over the taut peak.

Tightness built up inside her body until it had nowhere else to go. Lysse let go and shuddered as she felt herself dampen at Ram’s erotic kissing. Closing her eyes, she allowed her body to bend to his ministrations, riding the crest of climax that he evoked from her. Her hands slid from his head to her sides, grasping at the sheets. Ram’s mouth slid to underneath her breast and his tongue laved the curve, sending a ripple of pleasure through Lysse. She reached towards him, but Ram clasped her hand and put it beside her. “No, I want to worship your body before you touch me.”

His tongue drew down the center of her body. Wiggling, she tried to move from him. “Please, Ram…I’m not thin or pretty—“

“Hush! You’re beautiful and you’re lush, which I prefer. Let me do as I wish.” His accent rolled through her, increasing the ache to be possessed by this man she’d dreamt about for so long.

His fingers stroked over her bare mons, then parted her softly as his tongue licked her slit. “So sweet, so wet. You’re beautiful, Lysse. Don’t you ever doubt that.” His hot breath tingled against her sensitive flesh as his mouth descended lower. Flesh connected to flesh as his tongue probed her wetness in long strokes.

She cried out as another climax rocked through her body. “Ram! Please! Ephram, please, I need you so much!”

His body slid along her slick skin, her thighs parting wider to accommodate him. “Not as much as I need you, Lysse. Not as much as I need you,” he murmured against her hair. “I need you. Will you let me be with you?”

“Yes!” And in reply, Ram thrust deeply into Lysse joining them together. Their rhythm was give-and-take; working in concert to music only they heard. The tempo was fast, longing, craving fulfilled only with their bodies colliding together. Feeling the edge of something unknown looming beyond them, Lysse gripped Ram’s arms. “Don’t leave me!”

“Never, Lysse. We’ll go together,” he whispered, his mouth ravaging hers as they both climaxed.

She felt as if they were falling into a void but at the same time, it felt so familiar. Clinging to Ephram, she let herself go letting him lead them both.

“Together, Lysse. You’ll see and understand soon. I promise,” he whispered in her ear, his words coming in short pants.</I>

* * *

Lysse woke up, her hands grabbing for someone who wasn’t there. Lying back against her pillows, she whimpered as her body screamed as pleasure coursed through her body. “Oh gods, another dream. So real, so goddamn real,” she gasped as she willed her body to calm down. Her left hand slid between her thighs, touching the wetness left by the dream Ephram.

For months she’d dreamt of him, but this was the first time they ever made love. They’d come close many times but she’d woken up, but not this time. It was as if something had changed. Perhaps it had.

When she finally regained control of her raging hormones and protesting body, her eyes went to her alarm clock. She sighed as she registered the fact it was five in the morning. <I>Dammit, why couldn’t you have woken me around seven? Try to go back to sleep or get my work done?</I> Punching her pillow, Lysse voted for sleep, but knew it’d be difficult. Her eyes roamed her bedroom, taking in the shadowed dresser, bookcase, and the small vanity table she had since she was a child. Many a night she pretended to be a princess brushing her hair while her prince came to rescue her from the evil wizards.

Before long, Lysse fell back to sleep. As she drifted along, her mind still grasped for that connection but failed to find it.

* * *

Ram groaned as his eyes fluttered open. His hand stroked himself to final completion, but still it wasn’t relief. Not like he needed, wanted. Sighing, he grabbed at an old towel and wiped himself off. The dreams were pulling them so close that he almost had her. He almost pulled her to Ti’taris without having to walk the damnable path. His neural pathways helped opened up the vortex in the dreamworld, but something stopped him from taking Lysse at the last minute to here.

“I’m fucking damnably nice guy,” Ephram growled. “That’s why. I need to meet her on her world, on her terms or it doesn’t count.” “Which is not just honourable, but preferable, Regent.” Galzora walked in, her bearing more royal, but they knew that technically she was more than Ephram could ever be.

“Soul of Ti’taris, what’s wrong?” Ephram asked with a tinge of concern.

Galzora sat beside Ephram and looked out the window into the night. Her proud features were angular, her skin radiating with a bronze tone. Among the Shadow worlds, she’d be considered Mayan, but in fact, her people were the true voices of their respective lands, including Ti’taris and Earth. Having her grant him the right as Regent of Ti’taris was symbolic of their relationship. She spoke, he listened. To ignore the Voice of Ti’taris was to ignore the world upon which they lived.

“You are set upon this course, Ephram?”

“Should I reconsider, Galzora?” Ephram’s large hand cupped the woman warrior. “Does your vision show I don’t need to interfere with the Earth?”

Galzora sighed and leaned her head on Ephram’s shoulder. “No, we need her. You need her. But it’s not going to be easy, Ram. Not by a long shot. She’s going to reject the path at first.”

“We just won’t let her.”

“Ephram Mikkelson! There will be no coercion used on Lysse Astarte! You hear me?” Galzora’s dark eyes bored into his. “You must not force her to accept reality. It must be her choice.”

“But you said she’ll reject it—“

“At first! It isn’t easy learning that your world is nothing more than shadow in a universe of shadow and reality is truly only one micron over.” Galzora smiled softly. “Lysse is going to have her world and worldview shattered, Ram. You must realize this and keep that in mind when she acts uncharacteristically.”

“Not my Lysse. She’s had things tossed at her, to test her and not once has she wavered.”

Galzora snorted. “That was on her world, Ram. In her reality. In a world that is not Ti’taris. Think, Regent, think! Do you think once she’s here, among us, among people she believes to be cartoons, she’s going to be able to take this easy?”

Ram stopped and pondered for a moment. Galzora wouldn’t have spoken on this if there weren’t a concern. Earth people never moved between parallel dimensions or worlds. Those who did often didn’t return, or if they did, they were considered crazy. Yet, their theorists were coming ever so close to discovering how to move between universes. He tried to remember the first time he realized he had transported himself into another universe, a Shadow of Ti’taris, to be sure, but still it had unnerved him when things didn’t work how they normally did on his world.

“You’re right, Gal. This is going to make things much harder, isn’t it?” Ram closed his eyes briefly before looking at his friend. “She’s going to think she’s gone insane.”

“I don’t know if it’ll go that far, but I think she’ll doubt where she is and the new rules she’ll learn here on Ti’taris. You have commissioned the making of the movie to encompass what has been happening, correct?”

“Yes.”

“That is where she’ll think she is. This is going to be damnably hard, Ram. For you, for her, for us all.”

They sat side-by-side watching the stars flash in the darkness, shining their low light upon their world, the true reality of the universe. The weight of the universe seemed to hunt his shoulders out, then sat upon them, making itself at home. Ram accepted the weight as his due. Lysse was correct though- he did have to correct the wrongs he had done to others. Only then could the people throughout Ti’taris trust him and his rule. Otherwise, he was no better than Namorian and his people.

“You’ll make a fine ruler, Regent Ephram Mikkelson. This has been said by the Voice at your birth and throughout your life,” Galzora intoned softly. She kissed his cheek before standing. “Get some rest. No more dream walking to Earth or to Lysse. She’ll need you soon enough in that place. If you’re not rested, you’ll have problems crossing the border between our worlds.”

Without a sound, she left him alone in his room. Room, it was more than that. It was where they plotted, planned, and more. Hell, anyone from earth would think that technology had gone mad. Yet, there were hints of things not always being what they seemed. Ram slowly stood up, his hand brushing against the metal table that held maps of Ti’taris and various fortressed cities upon its land. He had been to places where technology was only now beginning to be on par with Ti’taris and been to places where there was basic technology, but magick ruled supreme. Here was the balance, here was the reality where technology and magick fused together and were not only inseparable, but also every person’s birthright.

Ti’taris awakened long ago to be responsible, but now could be destroyed because of a mad man’s cravings for absolute power. “Lights at ten percent,” he called out, the computer obeying his command. Crawling into the nearby bunk, Ram made himself comfortable. Gal was right; he needed his rest if he were to see Lysse soon. Hopefully his team could handle things here while he was gone. They had to if they were to have half a chance of winning this battle. Forcing himself to relax, Ram fell to sleep uneasily, hoping that Lysse would be okay until he got there.

* * *

Saturday finally arrived. Lysse wasn’t sure what emotion captured her better- fear or excitement. Whichever one it was needed to let go of her heart and stomach before she puked. Changing her clothes for a fourth time, she tried to think on what to say when she met Ephram.

“Dammit, Lysse, you’re not going on a date! You’re just meeting him at a public bookstore and having a drink while there. There’s no need to get all dressy. He’ll think you mean more and you have no fucking idea on what you mean!”

Feeling more in control now that she bitched at herself, she grabbed her favourite jeans, slightly worn, but utterly comfortable and flattering to her build. She followed that with the jersey top in deep purple, which was not just comfortable, but with the slightly rounded neckline, looked quite sexy in an understated way.

Topping it off with her favourite ankle boots, Lysse declared herself dressed. That was soon followed by an hour of applying and reapplying makeup. Finally, she went with less is more attitude, leaving her hair loose with minimal makeup.

Gathering her wallet and keys, she shut the front door behind her and headed to the bookstore. “Anticipation can kill a person,” Lysse muttered as she climbed into her vintage Camaro. Without a second thought, she whipped out into traffic and began the short drive. Turning on the radio, she found the latest by U2 and sang along while cruising across town.

Taking the next turnoff, she neatly parked her ice blue Camaro in its parking spot. “Good baby,” she crooned as she turned off the engine. “You make all those other cars look like shit.” Locking up her car, Lysse sauntered towards the doors of To Be Read, her favourite bookstore. The title was unique and always made her laugh as did the owner, Marcie Tarrington.

She nodded at the staff as she headed to the back of the store where the graphic novels and other comic related material was shelved. With a practiced, jaded eye, she found the latest two renditions of Ti’taris Awakening and put them under one arm. <I>Mine. I can add them to the collection at the house.</I> Scouring the aisle, she noted a couple of takeoffs and grinned. Such was publishing, copy what sells.

Heading to the front of the store, she saw a tall man pass her by and she mentally scoped him out. Tall, about six foot three, short spiky dark brown, almost black hair, a body to die for in those faded jeans molded to well developed thighs. The shirt seemed almost too small if it wasn’t for the fact, Lysse liked the way it hugged his chest and back. Scooping up her jaw from the floor, Lysse whimpered as she made her way to the checkout before heading towards the café area.

Then something stopped her. At first, she thought she heard her name called. But it wasn’t her name that made her halt in her tracks. It was the voice that she couldn’t ever forget or mistake, but <I>that<\i> voice belonged to a cartoon character, not a real man. A hand on her shoulder scared her into dropping her books. As she bent to pick them up, the man she was staring at just a moment before met her gaze.

“Lysse? It’s me, Ephram.” Eyes made of dark chocolate, slowly melted and blended with just a hint of caramel stared into hers. Oh gods, the voice was dead on for Ephram’s from the show, complete with accent.

“Ephram? Really?” Lysse swallowed as she came face-to-face with her dream as reality. She had to be dreaming, or at least not thinking clearly. His hands brushed against hers as he handed her the books. The shock of his touch forced her to pull back, landing her on her ass. “You sound—“

“I know. It’s something I’ve lived with a lot the past year,” Ephram chuckled as he offered his hand. “Let me help you up.”

Taking his hand, she rose to her feet, dusting off the back of her jeans. Once done, she looked up and felt her heart pound against her chest. <I>Don’t burst, heart. We can’t die now we’ve seen what cartoons to life look like. Dammit, I can’t speak. What do I say to this man?<\i> Her eyes took in his face, the hard planes and the spiky hair that framed his face. She saw why many people assumed he was Ephram from the show. He was a fucking doppelganger of the character.

“Are you okay, Lysse? I didn’t mean to scare you. I realized who you were the moment you went past me…” his voice fell off as he waved his hand in front of her face. “Earth to Lysse. Ti’taris to Lysse. Come in Lysse.”

Lysse blinked and smiled. “Sorry. The brain was computing things. Good to meet you, Ephram.” She gave him a friendly hug and smile. “I completely understand your reticence now about divulging your name.”

“Thanks. It’s why I’ve waited so long about asking you. I know you’ve dealt with the show behind the scenes and I didn’t want to cause a ruckus.”

Lysse snorted. “Ruckus. One day, I might let you into my thoughts in seeing you. One day, after I get over this. Let me pay for my books and we’ll go get something to drink and talk.”

Ephram nodded and stood next to her in line. “I’ve got to admit, you’re taking this better than I thought. You seemed to defocus for a moment there, but you’ve recovered nicely.”

“Heh. Recovered, you’re funny, Ephram. Very fucking funny,” Lysse snorted. “You have no damn clue on it, do you?”

“Clue on what?” Ephram gave her a bewildered look. “You mean my resemblance? Or something else?”

“That’s what I thought. You have no clue,” she sighed while paying for the books. Lysse bit back a snicker as the cashier fumbled over her words as she took in Ephram. Shaking her head, Lysse thanked the woman and headed towards the café. “You want something to drink here or want to go to a pub I know close by?”

“Whichever means we get more time to talk and less overheard, I think,” Ephram answered as he opened the door, letting her lead the way. “Shall we take my car or yours?”

“Mine. It’s the ice blue Camaro over in the corner,” she stated, heading that way. “It’s not that I don’t mind you driving, but it’s a classic and people sometimes get a bit nasty when they want it or think it’s been left alone too long.”

“Understood. You drive there, I’ll drive back?”

Lysse unlocked his door and opened it before moving to the driver’s side. “Sounds good. I won’t have to kick your ass for getting too manly in my car, will I?”

As she unlocked her door, her heart kept pounding. She was taking a risk. Though talking to him in person was just like talking to him online, there was something else there. Something different that defied explanation. She never let anyone drive her baby, but she was going to let this man, whom she knew minimal about, drive it. Was she nuts or did she really trust him in some unusual fashion after nine months of talking online? Shaking off the unsettling thoughts, she slid into the seat and fastened her seatbelt.