#index the secretary bird

[head---ache]

Made some characters:))

[aemondslefteyeball]

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi (6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

[Modern!Aemond x Fem!Reader]

[Warnings: Substance use, gore, spooky shit]

[Summary: Origin of the McNugget]

(See you next week bbys drink water have a good time)

Word Count: 5.9K

Chapter 6

The cold winter air nipped at every exposed part of your face. Lys had the closest thing to a perfect climate– according to tourism boards– but you had always longed to watch the snowfall. You pulled the squirming kid into your arms before the two of you settled onto the rocking chair. You rested your head on Jaehaerys’s, the wool fibers tickling your chin. “That one is called Pleiadys.”

“Why?”

 By this point, everything you said was met with the same response but you found yourself endeared by his curiosity. Raising a gloved finger to point at the constellation, you moved an arm to cradle the boy as he shifted to look. “It means the seven sisters.” Jaehaerys nodded eagerly, face alight with curiosity and a thousand more questions. “And that one, right there.” You moved your hand across the freckled sky, pointing to a new target. His gaze shifted to the general area to which you were pointing, but you knew it needed a finer eye. Wrapping your hand around his, you gingerly led it to the exact one. “Is Rigel. It’s my very favorite star.”

“Why?” As you continued babbling about the constellations, you caught sight of the toddler’s eyelids starting to grow heavy. His head rested against your chest as you tiptoed through the mansion before quietly tucking him into bed.

A tense quiet sat over the car. You found yourself wondering once again exactly what unspoken rule you had broken but decided to let your husband seethe just a little bit longer. “I specifically told you to not speak with him,” the low growl eventually emerged. You turned to see him gripping the steering wheel as hard as humanly possible. You rolled your eyes and turned back to the window, a small smirk on your face as you shook your head in disbelief. “You may be naive, but I know Aegon.” Sometimes it caught you off guard at how jealous he was, especially for somebody who spent so much of his time actively pretending you didn’t exist. If anybody could be upset over you tossing a child to another man, of course it would be him. 

Taking a deep breath in you thought for a moment more, gaze fixed on the street sign across the way. He stayed put at the red light for just a second longer before his eye snapped to meet yours. You didn’t grant him eye contact, knowing that if you did he would try to cow you into relenting once again. You just waited for him to hiss through his teeth and drive again. “Yeah.” Leaning back into the chair, you turned to finally look at him. “I’ll really convince your family we’re happily married, by ignoring all of your male relatives.” Silence fell over the car once again. It continued into the next few days until a gift bag containing earrings was draped onto your bedroom door handle. What a lovely gift from his secretary. 

You crouched next to a fern, putting your hands on your thighs before reaching out to tear a leaf off. “Seriously?” Myrielle stood and kicked a nearby bush, dropping the bucket on the ground with a clang. “How are there no fucking berries?” Rolling the leaf between your thumb and index finger, you pushed down the memories of a girl’s trip with Tanselle to the Highgarden Conservatory.

“Could be birds picking them off. Or like, mice.” 

“Gods, I could eat the fuck out of a mouse right now.” Sabitha mused, a chorus of disgust ringing out amongst the group. 

“You know some animals live off eating their own vomit?” You piped up, unsure of exactly where the compulsion to do so came from. Letting the ball of plant matter fall back to the ground, you suddenly regretted speaking at all.

“Okay, thanks for that image Y/N.” 

“Did the ghosts tell you that? Or do you just, like, talk about blood and stuff?” Ever since the seance it was like this every day with Myrielle. 

Smacking your hands onto your knees before rising, you shot her the most passive-aggressive smile you could. “Mostly we just chat about how Rymund Manwoody dumped you for his cousin.” You didn't wait for her to retort, walking off and ignoring whatever she shouted after you. You came to a small clearing, and behind a felled tree a stag bent down. Holding a breath for a second and thinking of the quietest way to get Baela’s attention, you took a step back. The stag lifted its head, horror bubbling within you as you saw viscera coating the antlers. Stealth damned, boots rustled softly against the dirt as you backtracked. 

“Hey, look, ignore Myrielle.” Sabitha reached a hand out to jostle your arm. Noticing your expression, she paused for a second longer. “You doing alright?” You simply nodded your head in response and looked back at the deer once more before walking back to the cabin.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinners with Helaena and the twins had come to be a ritual, and in a way, Aemond relied on it. It went the same way each time. She entered, fussed over him, and asked how therapy was going. The past two times he had simply ignored her, or answered with a hard stare. This time, he looked at her for a second before mumbling “Fine.” It was still a waste of his time, but he couldn’t argue that it wasn’t improving his work performance. Besides, the better he performed and the more people would realize that he was alright. After they continued their meal in relative silence, he looked at her. “They’re doing a scan.” He forked a piece of chicken and chewed on it, swallowing before he continued. “Over Moat Cailin.” 

Helaena’s gaze softened as she spun her chopsticks around in the sauce and rice mix covering her plate. “You’re really good at keeping up with the updates.” Aemond sighed tiredly, hoping this wasn’t a segue to unsolicited life advice. 

“It’s the right thing to do.” He moved his fork over to a piece of bell pepper, lifting it to his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. By this point, he had sunk more money than he was comfortable thinking about into the search efforts and strong-armed Aegon into following suit. Aegon, as per usual, seemed entirely unaffected by the lives of those around him imploding. He idly wondered exactly how Sara would react to seeing his brother again before his mind drifted to when he would reunite with you. 

“I think it’s good.” Helaena paused, her expression careful as she set her utensils down. “That you care about… doing the right thing.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The brush slipped through Barba’s hair effortlessly. Pulling it back before parting it into three sections, you began to braid her hair. The insects chirped as the two of you sat there. Barba’s gaze was tilted upwards as you worked on the sections at her crown. “Do you think survival training will be like this?” Barba laughed softly, her face lighting up. 

“I think we’ll have an edge up on everybody else there.” You sat for a moment longer, the braid laxing before you tighten your grip again and weaved the next few sections in. 

“Okay, but like.” Taking a deep breath in, you let your hands rest against her. “What about a psych eval?” 

Barba nodded, chewing on her lower lip for a second. “I don’t think we’re at the point where we need to worry.” She finally stated, her sing-songy voice comforting against the chirping of insects. “I think we’ve got a good shot at getting out of here.” You went back to plaiting her hair. “I have an idea.” When the final sections of hair were done, you wrapped it up and tapped her on the shoulder. Taking it as a sign to continue, she turned to face you. “The Cessna.” Her tone was laced with naive hope, and your stomach sank. 

“It’s not safe.” Shaking your head you brought your fingers to rub against your temples. The desperation in the camp was growing, and you were all starting to feel the effects of hunger. But human sentimentality was not so easily relinquished.

“It’s not safe for us to sit around and wait either. We’re on our own.” 

From a strictly rational standpoint, you know she had a few good points but couldn’t stop the fervent shaking of your head. “Barba, no. We have no clue how long that thing has been sitting there. We have no idea what condition the fuel is in…” She had set her jaw, pulling her long black braid over her shoulder. “With our combined flight hours, we’re not qualified to even apply for astronaut training.” The futility of the last few years suddenly dawned on you. All the early mornings you spent at the airfield, all the hours you cracked open books. And it was all fucking useless here. “And these conditions… the mountains would fuck up even seasoned pilots. We are grad students who go joy riding…” 

“Y/N.” Barba had sat silently while you had rambled on, her expression too calm for your liking. “The sacrifices we have to make?” Her icy blue eyes locked onto yours, her face uncharacteristically stoic. “That doesn’t just start when they hand you the helmet.” We can’t even be considered for wearing a helmet. Kids playing heroes.  She reached a hand out, rubbing your knee gently. “If I die doing this, it’ll be no different than if I die in space.” She pulled her hand back and grasped the weirdwood pendant on her neck. “The Gods are going to see us through this.” 

“How do you know, though?” Barba came to sit behind you, pulling your hair over your shoulders before she started to run the brush through your lengths. She was right, in that the career field the two of you had chosen was dangerous. But it wasn't a tangible danger. It existed as an abstract. 

“I don’t, but I also don’t think faith is mutually exclusive to knowledge.” You sighed, nodding slightly before she yanked on your hair in a silent command to stop moving. Quiet permeated the woods around the two of you as she continued. Upon completing the braid, she moved to sit next to you again. “Hey, I know you’re stressing about this.” She grabbed your hand. “But you’re going to do fine, if you’re really so worried just… edit.” Moving her hand, she reached to grab yours. “But I don’t think you’re crazy.” 

You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear somebody else say it, nodding quietly as you pulled your lips back over your teeth. “In your religion...” You let the words hang in the air for a second. Neither of your parents had been particularly pious, and your father’s funeral was the last time you stepped foot into a Red Temple. “I’ve been having really weird dreams.” Letting out a breath and gathering your courage, you faced her. “I think I’ve been having visions. You guys have like, tree prophets, right?” 

“We call them greenseers.” Barba corrected with a small smile. “But yes. The old Gods sometimes send visions to guide us.” 

“It doesn’t feel like being guided. It’s… disorienting.” Truthfully each time it happened it felt like your very soul was hungover. 

“Well, they could either be a warning or a revelation.” 

“But how do I know I’m not just crazy? And even if I have some gift from the Gods, I’m just a fucking person.” The plastic bracelet twisted on your wrist. “How do I know I won’t fuck up the interpretation?” 

“I think, because the Gods gave them faith. Faith is the substance of things that are hoped for. And the evidence of things unseen.” She paused for a second, looking down. “I know people think I’m weird. Just as I know that no Maester has found concrete proof of religion or magic. Better yet, I know that we kind of just pray to trees. But I also don’t think it’s a coincidence that every culture on the planet has independently come to the conclusion that there’s something more than just the trees. But I know it because I believe it. I think it would help you to open yourself to that.” She lowered her eyes to yours, “Look. The Gods want us to do the right thing. No matter the religion, that tends to be a basic tenet.” You nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Even if praying to the trees isn’t what you want, there are lessons that can be learned from it. If you open your heart to greater things, they will help you discern the true from the false.” 

“I don’t…” You pressed your lips together. “But how would I even open my heart?” 

“I want to show you something tonight.” A smile broke out across Barba’s face as she stood up and headed back towards the stack of firewood.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aemond sat at work, tapping his finger against the mouse. There was some tune that was stuck in his head, but he couldn’t identify any lyrics. Or knowledge of where he had actually heard it. Huffing at the earworm, he went through his usual day. Have meetings, check to see if there are any updates on the search, lunch, emails, paperwork. Routine. His fingers tapped until he finally shifted them to the keyboard. His search finally led him to the website of a boutique tucked into the beachfront of Lys. Aemond Targaryen was a man of principle, and he had to rectify his mistake. To his chagrin, your duvet had stopped being sold years ago. Gladdened that at least the worst part of his workday was also the end of it, he sat in his car for a few moments. He started it but sat parked in the lot. He had known this was coming for some time, but a touch of guilt still tugged at him. Not enough to stop him from pulling up the familiar contact number and pressing call. 

“Hello?” Alys’s voice had the same seductive edge to it that it always possessed. Years ago it had excited him, but these days his life was too turbulent to keep up with all of it. Alys, sensing the ominousness of the time he took to answer, sighed. “Aemond. I’m busy.” 

“I don’t think you should come around anymore.” It shocked him how easily the words flowed from his lips. They hardly lived a white-picket life but they had still been sleeping together for the past few years. He should feel guiltier, but just couldn’t muster it.

“Okay.” Okay? Alys waited a minute longer before sighing once more. “I should’ve seen this coming earlier.” He could sense the disappointment in her voice, but he got the feeling it wasn’t because of him breaking it off. Rather that she didn’t have the power of breaking up with him. “You’ve been stringing me along for a dead woman you hated. For months. You’re an asshole.” Three little beeps sounded. Aemond supposed that he shouldn’t have been surprised. He felt angry and thought about what Dr. Greenwood had said. He rolled his eyes in disbelief that he was actually falling for the bullshit she peddled. Figuring that he might as well make use of his money, he sighed and thought about it for a second. He knew he was an asshole, that bounced off him like rubber. It didn’t bother him that she pointed out him stringing her along. She was objectively right about that as well. ‘I want you to focus on what thoughts you’re experiencing when your anger starts to get above a five’ Aemond leaned back into the headrest, closing his eyes. You aren’t dead, and I didn’t hate you. I don’t hate you. He opened his eyes once more and shifted the car into gear, leading an uneventful drive home. Fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You coughed so hard you thought your lungs might burst out of your mouth. Waving the smoke away with your hand, you took another puff before passing it over to Sabitha. She inhaled deeply, before following it up with another hit. She passed the joint onto Aly and leaned her head back, half-moaning. “Fuck. I didn’t know how much I needed that.” Sabitha handled it like a champ but you, unfortunately, have bitch lungs and proceeded to hack a little while longer. 

Aly smirked at you and nudged your shin with the toe of her shoe. “Try not to die on us, yeah? This would be a really weird death to explain to your Mom.” The three of you laughed around the little fire. You came out here when you needed to clear your head. This evening Sabitha and Aly showed up with a much-needed offer for company, but more importantly, a joint. Since the plane was private, pretty much all of you had taken the opportunity to smuggle things airport security would normally confiscate. Thankfully for you, Sabitha apparently packed a garbage bag full of weed in her carry-on. 

Taking another two puffs off it before quickly passing it to Sabitha, you held it in a few seconds before a fit of coughing wracked you. “If I die, who's going to third-wheel for you two?” Sabitha nodded and shrugged before exhaling. “Do you guys?” The high had started to sink in at this point, your muscles relaxing. Your question was cut off by the next round of hits, coughing again before composing yourself. “Do you guys think you feel better or worse having each other out here?” 

The two of them looked at each other in quiet contemplation. Aly glanced back at you for a moment before she put the joint out. “I don’t think I’ve really thought about it.” Sabitha nodded in agreement. “It just kind of… is. You know?” 

Sabitha bit her lower lip in brief concentration before exhaling. “It fucking sucks that she’s in the shit.” She admitted, unable to look at her girlfriend. “But I don’t think I’ll ever not be grateful she’s with me.” 

Aly awwed and you pantomimed gagging before throwing a pebble at the two of them. “Yeah, yeah. Rub it in.” 

“Well if you wanna talk about rubbing…” 

Aly shot a look at her girlfriend, and Sabitha just smirked in response. Aly turned back to you, her expression soft. “You’ll see her again soon.” 

You wanted to believe it but just sighed instead. “I know it’s selfish.” You had grown up a Navy brat until your teenage years. A Dear John letter wasn’t a foreign concept, but you didn’t even have a fucking address here. Everything hung in limbo. “I just really hope she’s missing me, you know?” You steadied your breath before fiddling with your bracelet. “I know it’s not fair because we have no idea when or if help is coming. But I just want her to wait for me.” After your admission, Aly flicked another match and lit the joint again, passing it to you. Gratefully, you took an especially long hit before leaning back and exhaling slowly. You wondered what Emerson was doing– if she was sleeping well at night–  and took another hit. “I really fucking miss her.” 

“Hey, soon enough you can divorce Aemond, and the two of you can do whatever the fuck you want.” A smile broke out across your face at the thought, your forgotten wedding ring sitting somewhere with the rest of your stuff in the cabin. 

“God, that time could not come quickly enough.” You threw your head back and groaned, digging your heels into the dirt. 

“Aww, what? You don’t miss the hubby?”

“Fuck no.” Sabitha could barely finish her question before you spat out the response. The two of them wasted no time breaking out into laughter. “Seriously. I hope he gets kicked in the shins every fucking day.” You rolled your eyes and took your hits before passing it on once again. “You know he demanded that I start sleeping with my door shut so that his cat wouldn’t come nap with me?” The problem was only exacerbated when the two of you discovered that Vhagar could somehow open doorknobs as long as they weren’t locked. You had no fucking clue how, but at this point, you had accepted she was higher than you on the pecking order. It’s not like you hated waking up to a sweet old cat purring into your shoulder either. 

The two of them looked at each other conspiratorially before Sabitha spoke up. “Okay, but I have to know.” You furrowed your eyebrows suspiciously as soon as she said it. “You’ve met his girlfriend, right?” You sucked the air in through your teeth. Alys was actually pretty nice, as it turned out. The two of you had once chatted for a few minutes about the news before Aemond stormed in and put an abrupt end to whatever friendship could have formed. “You know. The thing is that.” You let the two of them wait on the edge of their seats, using it as an opportunity to take an extra hit. “She’s really fucking hot. Quick as a whip too.” You pulled your lips back into a smirk just as Sabitha broke out into laughter. 

“Okay, but you realize what you have to do though, right?” You gestured for Aly to elaborate, while she just smirked and turned to look at Sabitha. 

“Y/N entering her Mr. Steal Yo Girl era.” 

“Yeah, I got it” You giggled, nudging Sabitha with your shoe. “In the divorce, he gets the house and I get the girl.” 

“Rom-com in the making.” Sabitha japed, finally tossing the dead joint into the fire. Once the joint was tossed in, you poured a pail of water over the fire before the two of them went back to camp, and you went to the clearing where you had met Barba earlier. 

She held a hand out, the firelight from her torch flashing in her icy eyes. You hesitantly stepped forward and grasped it before she led you through deeper parts of the brush. After countless scratches and spiderwebs, she stopped in front of you suddenly. You were off the game trail and felt the need to watch each footstep. Almost running into her, you let go of her hand and raised your eyes. Before the two of you stood a massive tree. Blood-red leaves shone black in the gathering dusk, and red sap dripped down the sturdy branches. A strange feeling overtook you right then, an animalistic understanding that you were in the presence of something ancient. Something primordial. Torchlight danced across the terrible face carved into the tree, crusted red sap flowed down the forehead but the rest of the face was twisted in rapture. You stepped back, suddenly frightened. Barba caught your upper arm with her hand, shushing you softly. “It’s okay, the Gods want this.” With that, you took her hand and approached the tree. The two of you stood next to each other as you both stared at the ancient, gnarled thing in awe. 

“What do I say?” You looked at her for a second, a dull throbbing in your forehead. Ghostly blue eyes affixed on the blackening leaves once more. 

“You don’t have to say anything.”  Her head tilted back as she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath in and tapped the side of your hand. “Listen.” The expression on her face was placid, and she reached out a single hand to put on the tree. As you closed your eyes, you took a deep breath in and held it for a few seconds. “Open your heart.” That’s when it started again, the dull chanting that whispered beneath the surface of the breeze. A gale burst through the canopy of the forest and howled through the Weirwood leaves. You reached your hand out and placed it on the bark. 

The first thing that registered was the lack of gravity on your body. You were falling but with no force. Blackness enveloped the void you had found yourself thrust into. Your hands waved and your breath bubbled. Bubbled? Every instinct screamed against what was happening. But panic didn’t overtake you, just acceptance. 

Water pooled on the floors of the stone tunnel. You put your right hand onto the wall. Flashes of dragonfire licked through every crevice of the mazes. Dragons roared in the sky as Andals turned to ash before you. Stepping back in horror, you looked at where your hand had been and held back the urge to wretch. Scoured into the maze wall was the humanoid form of somebody dead centuries before your birth. You took a few deep breaths to steady yourself, nails digging into your palms. As far back as you could remember, your Dad had been a huge horror buff. Shortly after you turned eleven, he finally deemed you old enough to watch The Shining with him. ‘There’s a trick, you know.’ Your heart beats harder at the memory of his voice. ‘Keep going right.’ Unclad feet splashed through the puddles on the floor as you continued onward. That’s when a familiar silhouette entered your peripheral vision. A stag raised its head to you when it finished lapping at the pools of brackish water. It led you to a staircase that had candles interwoven with the spiral of the structure. Your calves started to ache as you ascended. A sense of foreboding twisted in your gut and you knew better than to open any of the doors that shifted along the sides of the staircase. Those few doors that were open showed you things that made your stomach churn. Doorways kept moving, and candles continued to flicker as you ascended to the clouds. You looked down and a vast structure of oily black stone rested at the base of wherever you stood. Disoriented, you turned back from the balcony to enter the room. A shrine sat on the opposite end of a new room. Dozens of candles burned, filling the air with the sweet scent of lavender. In the middle stood a terrible black cylinder. You reached a few fingers out to touch it and hissed when they came back coated in blood. A few droplets ran down the blackened glass, and you sucked on your finger for a moment before looking back to the surrounding candles. Taking a wooden lighting stick, you held it into the flame until the end curled and turned black. You lifted the stick to the top of the glass candle and lit it before blowing the stick out. Queer colors flickered across the room, white light burning your eyes from the intensity. Yellows danced across the walls as gold, and the shadows sank into an abyss that awoke primordial fear in you. The light of the glass candle grew brighter, as a form started to emerge from it. Barba’s hand was on the back of your neck, a warm smile on her face as she greeted you. Her face darkened to shadow as the light of the candle overtook it. Blurred into a humanoid form, light overwhelmed your field of vision. Joining it after came a flash of flames, burning in a halo around her concealed face. You screamed as her face twisted in concern. 

“Y/N?” You wrenched yourself from Barba’s grasp as quickly as you could, chest heaving as you ran to put distance between you and the tree. “What is it?” 

Your hands shook as you started to rub them against your neck, shifting your weight between your legs. “I saw fire, and light.” Your voice cracked, but Barba’s lit up. She felt as if you had been touched by divinity, you felt as if you were being eaten alive by something within. 

“That’s the light of the Gods, Y/N.” She pulled you in for a hug, beaming in the darkness. “You’ve let them into your heart.” Her thumbs rubbed circles into your shoulders, and you stared over her shoulder into the terrible face of the weirwood.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aemond hated strangers being in his home. From the first day he met you, up until now when he was forced to accommodate a whole party’s worth of strangers. His Mother talked to one of the radar techs, her face twisted in worry. Helaena met your gaze with a small smile. Aegon had his face buried in his phone, and between them sat the team that had been giving updates since the disappearance. At the very edge of the table, Emerson was being emotionally supported by Taenys. Your girlfriend at least had the presence of mind to look worried, her friend just made doe eyes in the brunette’s direction. As his singular eye met Emerson’s hazel ones, hers shifted away immediately. Emerson usually didn’t miss an opportunity to fight with him, which told him everything he needed to know about how her life had been evolving. Her presence here was a formality after all, as far as the search team knew she was your wife’s close friend. His eye bored into her for a few minutes more until techs finally spoke up. “We’ve been given permission to repurpose military equipment for the search.” A smile fell across his Mother’s face, relief written on her features. He didn’t understand why she was so attached to you. She wasn’t particularly close to his cousins or nephews either. “But the conditions in Moat Cailin aren’t ideal for this kind of thing, you have to understand.” The happy look on Alicent’s remained there, but the hope in her eyes dimmed. “It’s likely that the plane crashed there, but the plant life effectively turns it into finding a needle in a haystack.” It was bleak, but by this point, almost every meeting had been the same. Some vague solution is proposed before they come up with another excuse for their own failures to find you. All the while they found a way to avoid telling the families that they weren’t expecting to find much other than remains.

“Why do you guys think it crashed in Moat Cailin?” Helaena piped up, running her middle finger along the rim of her glass. 

The man who had been explaining looked over to Helaena, his face unreadable for a moment. “Well, drones have combed through every inch of the north from the Neck to Winterfell. If a plane carrying twenty people had crashed there, somebody would have noticed it.” His voice droned on, and the man made eye contact with him and Aegon as he explained. “So the area around Greywater Watch seems the most likely culprit for where a plane of that size could crash and go undetected for as long as it has.” 

Aegon was on his phone while the man was speaking, looking up every few seconds and pretending that was multitasking. Helaena chewed on her lip for a moment before taking a sip of wine. “What if you’re looking too far south?” She suggested, spinning the wine in her glass. “What if they’re further north than Winterfell?” Her eyes rested on the opposite wall, expression detached. 

The tech smiled for a moment, rubbing his face before turning back to Aemond. “Yeah, that’s uh.” He met eye contact with another tech there, raising his eyebrows at the other man. “We’ll look into that, Ms. Targaryen.” Slender fingers tapped against the wine glass before Helaena once more started running the pad of her finger along it. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You swore at that moment that Baela was salvation itself. The deer was being carried on a pole by your best friend and Jacaerys. Choruses of joy rang out from the group as they all crowded around the pair excitedly. When you took a closer look at the stag, your eyes widened in horror. 

“Whoa. That thing is gnarly.” Sabitha’s face twisted in disgust at the viscera hanging off the edges of the antlers. You took a few steps back, your calves brushing against the front of the log. 

“It’s like Freddy Kreuger and Bambi had a baby.” Nettles’s eyebrows wrinkled at the sight of it, her arms coming to cross over her chest. 

“I’m not eating that.” Luke’s voice rang out as he shook his arms, locking eyes with Jacaerys. 

Criston shot him a weary look. “C’mon, guys. Deer shed their antlers every season. It’s perfectly normal.” He crutched closer to where the dead animal rested on the ground, looking back toward the group. “Floris, do us the honors?” She nodded and grabbed the knife that Jace had passed to her, kneeling in front of the stag. Digging the knife in with a well-practiced cut, you held back the urge to wretch as the smell of rot filled the air. The abdomen of the stag was crawling with maggots, the flesh sloughed into a pinkish slurry. Floris lifted a hand covered in gore and insects, shaking it off before wiping it on a rag. 

“That normal too?” Sara crossed her arms and locked eyes with Ser Criston. 

You lowered yourself to sit on the log, pulling one leg up to your chest before looking to Barba. “I’m not crazy.” Her hand rubbed along your shoulder blade. 

“No, you have a gift.” 

“We can’t keep fucking doing this, you guys!” It was the first time you had ever seen Aly actually lose her shit. Her arms came up to her head, fingers weaving into her dark hair. “What happens when winter gets here? We fucking starve to death or freeze?” She gestured at the festering deer, the glop that was once entrails seeping out of Floris’ incision. “We can’t count on getting rescued anymore.” She shook her head, a threat of tears wavering in her tone. “All of us know that is not gonna happen. We have to save us. I’m heading south in the morning to go find help. Be there after breakfast if you want to get out of this fucking hellhole.” 

Sometimes dreams came to you in fractals, and tonight was one such night. You sat up in your bed, looking around yourself. Seeing Baela’s chest slowly rising and falling, you got up. By now you were practiced in avoiding all the creaky floorboards, and you looked back at the sleeping bodies in the cabin before grabbing a lantern. The stag’s head that had been mounted onto the wall decades before you got there stared emptily back at you. Shuddering once again at the memory– and smell– of the diseased creature you opened the door and stepped into the night. The moonlight lit the clearing in a glow that was almost loving, kissing against your exposed skin. Goosebumps rose at the chill slowly accumulating off in the distance, and you found yourself wishing you brought a hoodie. The smell of weed still faintly lingered in the air of the clearing, and you lowered the torch to your side before sitting on the log and gazing up at the stars. You sat and listened to the wind for a few moments. The whispers on the breeze bounced around the inside of your skull, and your head snapped in the direction of a sound you hadn’t registered prior. Picking up the lantern, you raised it and approached before finding the source in the tree line. There, Alysanne Blackwood was crouched in the dirt. Her expression ghoulish as she shoveled a fistful of dirt into her mouth, letting out feral growls only to replace it with the next handful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @chainsawsangel

[whattheabcxyz]

2023-04-04

Singapore

Singaporeans back to their usual “gian png” behaviour - all because of Tiong Bahru Bakery’s free croissant promo

Private home prices rose 3.2% in Q1 - driven by surge in landed prices & more new launches

Punggol Library to finally open tomorrow

9 in 10 SUTD graduates employed within 6 months of graduation - gross monthly salary has also increased

75% of Jurong Bird Park’s 3.5K birds moved to Mandai

Singapore is top Asian city in Smart City Index, ranking 7th worldwide - index ranks 141 cities by how they use technology to address challenges faced to achieve a higher quality of life

Spike in number of workers developing occupational diseases - most involve noise-induced deafness

6 months’ jail for maid who bit forearm of toddler when she refused to sleep

Internet

Malaysia's immigration department website hacked

Business

McDonald’s Singapore says no impact from US layoffs

Health

Dr Google was already good enough for me before, but now AI chatbots take self-diagnosis 1 step further

Agriculture

Eggs from Indonesia approved for import into Singapore - country is Singapore’s 18th source

Politics

US House Speaker Kevin McCarthy to meet Taiwanese President Tsai Ing-wen in California - despite China’s protests ...go to hell, Xi Jinping, because it’s where you belong, together with Mao Zedong!!!

Trump arrives in New York for surrender

Singapore: Leong Mun Wai steps up as PSP’s secretary-general

Pets

Singapore: Animal abuse suspected after 2 cats found dead in public

Travel

Google announces new price-guarantee feature for flights - promises to monitor prices daily & pay customers the difference if their fare drops at any point from booking to departure; for now, applies mostly to select US flights on Alaska, Spirit & Hawaiian airlines, & a few international flights originating in the US, such as Canada’s WestJet

Drivers returning from Malaysia to Singapore stuck in 7-hour jams at Malaysia customs before 清明节

Art

^ A child could do what Günther Förg does, except their works wouldn’t sell for hundreds of thousands of $$$

Economy

Oil prices shoot up again

[samuraiswian]

˗ˋˏ 𝕲𝖊𝖙𝖔 + 𝕴𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖊ˎˊ˗

ꜰᴏʀ @dejwrites  ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: ꜱʜᴇʟꜰꜱʜɪᴘ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀᴜ!

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟꜰ ᴀᴍᴏɴɢ ᴜꜱ! ᴀᴜ

ᴀ/ɴ: ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ꜱʟᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀᴜ'ꜱ, ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴏᴀʀɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ. ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ. ꜱᴏ ʙᴀꜱɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟꜰ ᴀᴍᴏɴɢ ᴜꜱ/ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀɪʀʏᴛᴀʟᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴅᴀʏ. ʙᴜᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴏᴜ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʙɪɢʙʏ ᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡᴏʟꜰ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴀ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ. ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ!ɢᴇᴛᴏᴜ ɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴏʟ!

Getou couldn’t grasp the New World; it baffled him just how fables were so accepting of this foreign land. This world was starkly different from Homeland; whereas fables teleported through eluvians, bustling cobblestone villages teeming with creatures, children’s laughter zipping through the market as they raced under the legs of residents. Fresh Cornish patties are being bargained for. He even missed the jagged air on the rear end of his scales, or just the freedom alone. He once had to take flight whenever he pleased. Now eternally bound to the earth, embellished in glamour, to remain hidden amongst the mortals. An itch he couldn’t get rid of. It was embarrassing how his commoners were brainwashed from once they came, taking up the mantle of being human. Almost as if being sentenced from home was a symbol of pride of some sort. Some, but not all. Some were like him, wanting to finish their painful sentences and return home. But it’s he who is suffering the most heinous sentence fate could concoct. To leave behind the love of  his life. For his affair with the fae queen, the Elders were cruel, banishing him and killing half of his clan. He sacrificed everything for her. All for the sake of her surviving another blessed day in the Old World. Thrust into the new role, disdain fills his body each morning as he pins the golden star to his chest. Sheriff Getou, defender of fables. For the town council, however, it was just another name for a slave. A measly collar to keep him tethered to his Ancalagonian past, which he could never truly escape.

It didn't help that others didn't trust him enough to help and protect them when they needed him the most. For three weeks, fables vanished every three days, only to reappear days later along the lake's rocky shoreline, mutilated. It conveyed a message. It was as obvious as day, but Getou couldn't figure out why.  Why someone went out their way to make sure he picked up on their scent, and he would be damned if another person went missing in his town.

His onyx orbs scan the evidence board for missing fables furiously. Something didn't add up; the disappearances were clearly random, with no ties to anyone. Steam rises from his body as his index finger, which taps on his folded arm, morphs into a talon. The secretary's typewriter comes to a halt for a brief moment as she clears her throat of the noticeable change. It was a sign that he needed to take a break.

Getou would throw on the corduroy jacket and slink down to the Trip Trap to question people—and to chug a couple of beers. Two birds, one stone.

That's when he realized she was there. A stunning woman appeared from across the bar, accompanied by two other women who glared at anyone who breathed in their direction. The overhead light seemed a little too bright, and the lilies in the window's corner leant in the direction of the woman. As she twirled her fingers, the flowers twirled as well. "Who's she?" Getou nodded in the woman's direction. Toji drapes the rag he used to wipe down the counter over his shoulder, his gaze following Getou's from across the bar. "She's a newcomer. Runs the flower shop across the street.” Arms spread wide, the lycan leans his weight onto the counter.

“Figured you would’ve heard about it since those fae bastards  in town hall didn’t mention a newcomer."  

Toji was right, there hasn’t been a new arrival since his banishment, over a millennium ago. Whatever the woman did, must’ve been overlooked from the council, for they have reigned over the portals, mainly Yaga. Or possibly she was a runaway, for he would have no choice but to take her back.  Before rising from his bar stool and reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, tossing a crisp twenty onto the counter to make way across the bar. 

Oh god, here comes dragon breath.

Just ignore him, maybe he’s not coming over here.

But he doesn't, and instead makes his way to the exit, catching her gaze in passing. As his brow furrows, she lowers her head onto her upturned palm, a smug tug on the corner of her lips. His heart fluttered in his chest for no apparent reason as the audio appeared to be sucked from the pub. The strange desire to know her gnawed at the back of his mind. He was obviously insane because this was the first time he saw her. Right?

The storm outside was camouflaging his scent. He found himself standing in the middle of the flower shop, admiring the sprites and mythical woodland creatures scurrying around. That is, until the woman, startled, whirls her wrist, and the creatures vanish.

“As a newcomer, I’ll ignore your actions this time, but don’t let the mortals catch them. I suggest you get comfortable with the rules.”

“What are you gonna do to send me back to Homeland.” She walked towards him, her hip swaying as she did so.

“I should lock you up instead.” He takes a step forward, hands behind his back, to close the gap between the two.

Indie, the woman he'd grown to know, outstretched her wrists.

“Arrest me then.” Instead of wringing his hands through her hair, he yanked it back, his lips slamming into hers. His sagging height collapses as he rests his forehead onto hers, eyes shut.

 “Anything for you, your highness.”

[trashyswitch]

Picani's Therapy House

Chapter 2: Closing Hour Vibes

Patton and Remy are nearing the end of their shift, and are commenting on the people they've met and the work they've done, or rather hasn't gotten done. Things quickly turn silly.

“Half an hour, Pat! Half an hour till I can get my first Pumpkin Spice Latte of the season.” Remy said excitedly, cheering with 1 hand up in the air.

Patton smiled as he moved his fingers all over the keyboard in front of him. “Sweet!” Patton reacted.

“You bet it’s sweet! Pumpkin season is back baby, and back to give me that sexy, spicy autumn flavor. Mm, mm, MM!” Remy cheered.

“I think you told me that last year...almost spot on, too.” Patton told him.

“Did I?” Remy asked.

“Mm hmm.” Patton replied.

Remy stared off and blinked a few times. “...Huh.” Remy hummed.

Patton’s keyboard tapping was still going on. Occasionally, the tapping would switch to mouse clicks, before switching right back to the apple keyboard clicks. They weren’t extremely loud, and only made enough sound to administer some background white noise. But the apple keyboard had a specific higher-frequency tapping sound that sounded...almost calming if you liked it. Most of the time, Remy didn’t mind the sounds of the keyboard. It was usually a sign that Patton was hard at work. But at 4:07...you’d think the keyboard typing would die down…

“What are you even working on?” Remy asked.

“New patient profiles.” Patton replied.

“Did you finish creating a new profile chart for that blanket-obsessed emo?” Remy asked.

“Working on it right now.” Patton told him.

Remy grabs onto Patton’s shoulder, and pulls him aside slightly so he can see the screen. “Is he single?” Remy asks him.

Patton jumps at the sudden action, but quickly relaxed into a smug grin. “Why? You interested?” Patton asked.

Remy looked at Patton. “No. Just...curious.” Remy replied casually.

“Sure…” Patton teases as he takes a sip of his apple juice.

Remy sighs and scrolls down on the screen with the down arrow on the keyboard. “Is he a coffee drinker? What kind of music does he like? Is he a trick or treater on Halloween? Or does he lay low and watch scary movies all night? Does he sleep in often? Is he an insomniac? What kind of books would he read if he could choose? Does he prefer the sound of a storm, or the sound of chirping birds in the summer-”

Patton pushed Remy away with his hand. “If you’re so curious, why don’t you find out? I have his number right here.” Patton suggested.

Remy looked at the number, and bit his lip. “Mmmmm...nah. I might just wait till he shows up again.” Remy decided before he started to walk away.

“How do you know he’s coming back?” Patton asked.

Remy paused his walking and turned to look at Patton with slight worry in his face. “He’s coming back...isn’t he?” Remy asked, worry showing in his voice.

Suddenly, Picani walked by the office and peeked his head in. “Virgil is scheduled to come in on Thursday of next week.” He told Patton.

Patton smiled. “Sounds good!” He replied.

Remy let out a sigh of relief at the great news. “Hm...Cool.” Remy stated.

Patton rolled his eyes at Remy and smiled. “Looks like you have a chance…” Patton encouraged.

Remy smirked. “More like you do.” Remy teased.

“Don’t be ringing this back onto me. I’m not the one who fell head over heels with the new blanket monster of the Therapy House.” Patton mentioned.

“Hell yeah I did...Do you know how intimidating, yet adorable it was?” Remy asked. Then, Remy placed his soda onto the table, jumped over the empty spot on Patton’s desk and went to the chest filled with blankets. Grabbing a couple of the blankets, Remy covered himself in them and started walking around like a hungry zombie. “RAAAAWWWRR! I AM VIRGIL THE BLANKET MONSTER! FEAR MY COTTONY PRESENCE!” Remy declared in a deep voice, with his arms in front.

Patton allowed himself to laugh at the weird employee before focusing his attention back onto his computer. But he only got a few more sentences in before he was interrupted by a hand on the top of the computer screen. “How DARE you ignore the almighty blanket monster?! Blanket Monster is now greatly offended!” Remy told him in his deep voice.

Patton only continued to laugh and shake his head at the silly man. “Awww! Poor muffin!” Patton whined sarcastically.

“You dare not take the blanket monster seriously?!” Remy reacted in his deep voice.

Patton snickered a little bit and bit the tip of his tongue for Remy to see. Then, he shook his head before attempting to focus back onto the computer.

Remy jumped over the desk and landed behind the man with a loud stomp. “NOTICE ME!” Remy yelled at him.

Patton giggled and hung his head with a big smile on his face. “Noho.” Patton replied.

“NO?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?!” Remy yelled.

Patton let out a snort as he hid his face in his arms on the desk.

“I NEED ATTENTION 24/7! NO MORE, NO LESS!” Remy shouted in his deep voice as he poked Patton’s side.

“AAAH! REHEMY!” Patton jumped as he reached for Remy’s hands.

“Don’t make me tickle you more.” Remy ordered.

Patton leaned back against the chair and giggled more. “Yohou barely tickled me.” Patton told him.

“Must the blanket monster resort to tickling in order to get their daily constant attention?!” Remy asked evilly as he started wiggling his fingers on Patton’s sides.

“HAHAHA! Ihihihihi’m wohohohorkihihing!” Patton laughed.

“Well guess what Pat? Work time is over! I need attention!” Remy declared.

Remy turned the chair towards him and skittered his fingers all over Patton’s belly. Patton’s eyes widened alongside his smile while he bursted into even more laughter. “NAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OHOHOKAHAHAHAY! IHIHIHI’M SAHAHAHARRYYY!” Patton begged as he struggled to defend himself.

A big smug smile grew onto Remy’s face. “It’s too late for apologies. Now:” Remy paused and started tickling Patton’s ribs next. “Accept your rib-tickling fate!” Remy declared.

Patton squealed and fell into a fit of cackles. His tied sweater sleeves swayed back and forth as he squirmed and wiggled around in the chair. Patton was even kicking his feet out in front of him!

“Wow! I knew my puns were funny, but I didn’t know they were THAT funny!” Remy teased.

Patton whined amidst his laughter. “IHIHIHI’M LAHAHAHAUGHIHING BEHEHECAHAHAUSE YOHOHOU’RE TIHIHIHICKLIHING MEHEHEHEHE!” Patton yelled at him.

“What? I’m not tickling you!” Remy reacted right before throwing his hands to his sides. “My hands are right here! Not tickling you or anything!” Remy told him. Sure enough, Patton was still hysterically laughing despite the sudden change. So, Remy took advantage of the amazing reaction for as long as he could, before resuming his swift tickle attack on Patton’s ribs.

Patton threw his head back and let out a lower, stronger bout of laughter. Remy gasped at the sudden change in laughter. “Wow! You have a low voice?! I had no idea!” Remy reacted.

“IHIHIHI DOHOHOHON’T! IHIHIHI DOHOHOHOHON’T!” Patton yelled back.

“You’re right: you don’t have a low voice. But boys with a high voice are naturally adorable. And that’s 100% something you are!” Remy told him before moving his fingers to Patton’s hips.

“Ihihihi’m nahahat CUHUHUTE!” Patton protested.

Remy gasped and stopped tickling him almost right away.

“Did you just...did you just tell me you’re NOT adorable?! Are those actual words I heard from your mouth just now?!” Remy clarified.

Patton couldn’t help but keep laughing at his dramatic reaction.

“Girl, you are a LITERAL HUMAN PUPPY! AND THERE IS NOTHING IN THIS WORLD THAT IS CUTER THAN A PUPPY!” Remy told him, cupping Patton’s cheeks.

Patton giggled and looked away. “Wehehehell...Baby pandas are cuter.�� Patton muttered.

Remy sighed and hung his head in disappointment. This reaction alone, managed to make Patton burst into even more laughter. “How dare...how dare you contradict my opinion...how dare such an ADORABLE BEAN contradict my words! I am offended!” Remy jokingly scolded him.

Remy grabbed the blanket that was sitting on his shoulders, and wrapped it around Patton’s head to make him look cuter. Patton giggled and blushed before he made his smile even bigger to show it off. Remy just about exploded from the cuteness. How DARE this cute being exist in the regular world! How on earth can one man carry so much cuteness in one face?! How is this even possible?!

“Having fun there?” Someone asked through the door in the back of the secretary spot. Remy moved Patton’s squished face towards the therapist at the door. “How does one not die from seeing such a precious bean?” Remy asked Picani, showing him Patton’s slightly squished face.

Upon seeing Picani’s face, Patton gave him a smile and a wave. “Hi Doctor!” Patton greeted.

“Hello Patton! I see that Remy is going off on another one of his cuteness rants?” Picani assumed with a smirk.

“Mm hmm…” Patton replied, both embarrassed and amused by this.

“HE’S TOO CUTE!” Remy shouted again, squishing Patton’s face more. Remy removed his hands from the man, and squished Patton’s cheeks with his index fingers this time. “Squishy bean! Squishy bean!” Remy cooed.

Patton laughed and waved his arms around to get Remy’s hands away from his face. “Stahahap ihihit! Ihihi gehet it! I’m cute. You don’t need to repeat it.” Patton told him.

“But I must! I really must!” Remy told him.

“Oh please...Şüräle is much cuter than me by a long shot!” Patton argued.

Suddenly, Şüräle popped its head out from inside Picani’s shirt pocket. “Yes? I heard my name?” Şüräle called.

Patton paused the argument and quickly ran up to the man and his mouse. “Hi there Şüräle! We were just talking about you and how cute you are!” Patton greeted.

Remy snorted and rolled his eyes. “So unconvincing. I will admit: Şüräle is cute. But Patton beats him in the cuteness scale by a long shot!” Remy explained.

Picani’s smile quickly morphed into surprise. Wait, what did he just say?

“Nohoho ihi’m nahat! Şüräle is a mouse stuffy! There is nothing cuter than a mouse stuffy!” Patton argued.

Picani’s surprise morphed into relief. He didn’t want them accidentally insulting the mouse right in front of him.

“Ugh, come on Patton! Your face practically radiates happiness!” Remy told Patton as he sent him a few tickles onto the ribs. Patton squeaked super high pitched, and bursted out in cackles once more. “And it always will until you pass into the heavens!” Remy added.

Picani was smiling at the cute scene. But he was also biting his lip as he thought of Şüräle’s feelings. He could tell tiny Şüräle was fuming in his pocket. “Now Şürry, let’s think about this-” Şüräle jumped right out of Picani’s pocket and onto the desk, before sprinting up to Remy.

“Uh oh…” Picani warned. “You should be careful of what you’re saying, Remy.” Picani warned.

Patton looked down, and widened his eyes at the crawling stuffed mouse.

“What do you mean?” Remy asked.

Immediately after those words left Remy’s mouth, Şüräle crawled into Remy’s pant leg and sprinted up his leg.

“Wha-aaAAH! ŞÜRÄLE! GET- NOOOOHOHOHOHOHO! EEEEEEHEHE!” Remy shouted. Patton’s surprise face slowly grew a smile as he watched Remy quickly crumble to the ground.

It appears Şüräle had decided to start tickling Remy for his ‘insulting’ words! Feeling absolutely amused, Patton started cheering on the mouse! “Keep going, Şüräle!” He cheered. Suddenly, Remy’s underarms felt filled with a pair of arms. His shoulders were restrained by, you guessed it, Patton! With Remy pulled back yet still able to struggle, Picani had bent down, grabbed onto Remy’s feet and removed his shoes from his feet. With Remy’s feet exposed, Şüräle took advantage of the free spot and exploited the heck out of them! Remy’s protests, laughter and squeals filled the therapy house for a good while. It didn’t take long for an audience to build to see the surprisingly adorable sight, that is Remy being tickled by Şüräle.

By the time 4:30 came along, Remy was a giddy, giggly mess. It didn’t take long for Remy’s giggle mood to turn into a cuddle mood because soon, Remy was giving Şüräle all the belly scratches and all the cuddles for a few minutes.

By the time Remy had actually gotten his pumpkin spice latte, it was nearing 5:00. Yeah, Remy had to spend a few extra minutes at the therapy house against his will. But, he did get the chance to properly laugh and boy; was it worth it!

I'm gonna be starting a college course tomorrow, so the fanfic writing is going to be lessening for a couple months. This is not a full year college course: this is just a course that's a couple months long. So, I will most likely be back for more frequent fanfic writing. But for now: I hope you enjoyed my fanfic!

[sheriff-caitlyn]

She has spent a few days catching up on things. Her gifts should have arrived by now, belated Heartseekers’ Day gifts around the world. To Bilgewater, Ionia, Noxus, Bandle City, Demacia, Shurima, and to all the places inbetween. Couriers for the city, clockwork birds for locations a little further out. To her friends, and comrages, and acquaintances, and even to those who meant more. Pragma, Philia, Storge, Agape. She does what she can, with whiskey and sugared treats and thoughtful gifts and handwritten cards.

But now she is staring at her telephone, and bracing herself for a difficult phonecall. She has to make it soon, before Vi comes back from break. It has to be done now.

“This will not go well,” she reminds herself. Speaking aloud to an empty office. “This will go very poorly.” She nods, confirmed in her belief, then picks up the receiver and dials. The rotary wheel hisses and clicks with each turn. It takes a while for the signal to be made, and she listens to a dead line become live, to the hum and crackle, as the connection is made through wires that connect Piltover to Demacia.

They call it magic, and yet petricite doesn’t keep it out. That must make electricity and clockwork entirely demonic, then. It’s the only logical explanation.

“Hall of High Justice. State your name and your purpose.”

Caitlyn sits up taller in her chair, bracing herself. “Sheriff Caitlyn Huxley, of Piltover, wishing to speak to the person in charge. It involves a case --”

“Hold.” There is a grudging, “Please,” added as an afterthought.

She presses her mouth in a thin line. Her fingers drum against the desk.

It is an unconscionably-rude amount of time later before the call is continued. “Justicar Weatherby. To what do we owe this conversation, Sheriff Huxley?”

“As I explained to the secretary,” she says, brisk and politely cheery, “I am calling about a case which concerns Demacia.”

“Oh? What is it this time?”

She notes with amusement the confrontational tone. It sounds familiar. “I have recently received a card from the criminal known as C. As you may recall, the last time this thief set foot on Demacian soil, a rather priceless heirloom was stolen from the --”

“And as you may recall, the last time you were here you failed to prevent the theft or to apprehend or even identify the thief in question.”

She has a book on her desk, something retrieved with foresight from the bookshelf ahead of time. She takes the moment to open it, to scan the index page, and then to flip over to the appropriate entry. Her copy of the Demacian Noble Registry was a few years out of date, and she had not bothered to chase up a more updated copy since Demacia had chosen to end the alliance with Piltover, but the name alone should suffice.

“Yes,” she says, as she does so, “I am aware. And that is why I am contacting you first.”

And there it was. Weatherby. She checks the extended family tree, and - what an entirely expected find - the man is related to Farrer. First cousins. Small wonder there is no co-operation here, given how Piltover’s Finest had departed Demacia. Nothing helps a grudge fester quite like time.

She continues, “Considering the thief has had such a long time to prepare himself, I have reason to --”

“Huxley.”

Caitlyn rolls her eyes and mouths ‘I don’t care’.

“I don’t care,” Justicar Weatherby says, in time with the sheriff’s own lips. “You have proven yourself to be inefficient, and even incapable, of dealing with this thief in the past.”

Maybe she should have waited for Vi. This was tremendously entertaining. “Good sir, there is no need --”

“And now you expect me to believe that this C character has returned out of the blue? Now, of all times? A terrific coincidence.”

So there have been problems in Demacia, have there? What a fascinating thing to learn. “Justicar Weatherby, I must insist --”

It seems a habit of his to interrupt her. “Either this is a ploy to earn your way out of disgrace, or to deflect your personal failings onto others as you have done before. Either way, Piltovian, it will not be tolerated."

“I am contacting you because you are about to have your vaults emptied,” she says, stiffly. “I am here to offer my services in preventing this from occurring --”

“Your services are not required.”

“Marvellous,” she says, her tone shifting to chilly. “I shall make sure the king knows you will be taking full responsibility for this theft. You know how to contact me if you should wish for more details of the upcoming robbery.”

A sudden spike of panic over the bluster. “Now, hold on a moment --”

“Good day to you.” She taps the top of the rotary, and the signal is cut. 

And for a moment, she sits in silence.

“It did not go well,” she says, eventually. “It went very poorly.” She taps her fingers on her desk, considers the family tree that linked Weatherby and Farrer, then closed the book.

Her personal hexphone is in the desk drawer. She pulls it out, and dials a number. It takes a moment for it to be connected. She introduces herself. She waits, with a little more patience, for the phone to be handed over. Eventually, she hears a different voice answer.

“Sheriff.” Tired, but warm. “It has been some time since we spoke.”

“Indeed it has, sire.” She exhales quietly. “My condolences to you, on the passing of your father, and I wish you the best of fortunes in your new role.”

“Thank you.” The man on the other end of the line heaves a sigh. “My time is short, I am afraid. But it must be urgent, and you must have been frustrated by the proper channels, or you would not have reached out to me directly.”

“Indeed. Apologies that there is little time for pleasantries. But he is back, sire. The criminal C has left me a card. He intends to target Demacia.”

His voice goes steely. “When? Where?”

She fills him in as best she is able. Short answers, no words wasted, no time theorising. His questions in return are brusque, blunt, but the demands are not unreasonable. At least, not until the end.

“When will you arrive?”

“I won’t be, sire.”

“... Ms Huxley?”

“I imagine I’ll be held up at the border.”

“I can make arrangements for that not to be a problem.”

She smiles on her end of the call. “I appreciate that, sire, I do, but I honestly imagine I will be held up at the border for an unconscionable amount of time.”

He is silent for a moment. “You are taking a significant risk with a Demacian heirloom.”

“Yes, sire.” Her smile fades. “I know.” She takes a slow deep breath. “I understand that this may be too great an ask. But I must not be allowed to cross into Demacia.”

“You have a plan.” 

“I do, sire. I do.”

[bjsmall]

Ice Age 2: The Meltdown PC video game in-depth review.

I used to play Ice Age 2: The Meltdown video game. Here is my review on this classic computer game.

IMDb link:

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0795398/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_3

Ice Age 2: The Meltdown is a video game based on the 2006 film of the same name. 

It is a third-person, platform based, action/adventure game. It was released on the 31st March 2006 in the UK.

It was developed by Eurocom and published by Sierra Entertainment (Now succeeded by Activision Blizzard).

Ice Age 2: The Meltdown was released on PC, PlayStation 2, GameCube, Xbox, Wii, GBA and Nintendo DS. It was rated U in the UK and was the first Ice Age game to reserve a E10+ rating in the US.

Most of the cast from the film rephrase their role in the game. See IMDb link above for details.

On its release, It was nominated for a BAFTA (British Academy of Film and Television Arts) Games Award for Children's Game.

The game was designed with the open source NginX game engine software.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ice_Age_2:_The_Meltdown_(video_game)

In this review I will be focusing on the PC version of the game.

I used to play the demo of Ice Age 2: The Meltdown not long after it came out. I got this game on PC CD-ROM for Christmas back in 2006.

In Ice Age 2: The Meltdown, the player takes control of Scrat, the Sabre Toothed Squirrel and the unlikely hero of the film.

Scrat will run, sneak, swim, dig, climb, smell scents and interact with characters from the film. Scrat can scurry through cracks in rocks to access other environments in the game.

Throughout the game, Scrat's HUD portrait will change according to where he is or what actions to take. You can read about this in more detail on Sierra Chest.

I particularly liked making Scrat jump into the water and go underwater.

You can swim through underwater ice caves, explore the river beds for hidden treats, collect acorns underwater, and avoid hazards such as piranha fish. Just make sure to come back to the surface as Scrat's oxygen meter depletes.

A complete walk through of Ice Age 2: The Meltdown featuring the game cover, keyboard layout, screens & all the stages and mini-games can be found here:

http://sierrachest.com/index.php?a=games&id=153&title=ice-age-2&fld=general

The stages in Ice Age 2: The Meltdown are as follows:

The Water Park

Stages: 

Waterpark 1, Waterpark 2, Waterpark 3, Waterpark 4 and Waterpark 5.

The water park level is the beginning stage, in this level, you'll learn the game's tips and tricks. Scrat also takes part in Fast Tony's Penguin Bowling contest.

At the end of this stage, Sid takes a ride on the Eviscerator in a slalom and rhythm style game. The Eviscerator is the most feared waterside in the water park.

See the Waterpark level here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAez0Q84i74&list=PL02CFE061D0C23908&index=2&t=195s

Forest

Stages: 

Forest 1, Forest 2 and Forest 3.

The forest stage takes place during the water park migration scene in the film. One of the mini-games included in this level is a whack-a-mole (possum) style game with Diego, Crash and Eddie.

See the Forest level here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmR_bmVndyo&list=PL02CFE061D0C23908&index=4&t=0s

Ice River and Maelstrom

Ice River: Collect 20 nuts jumping from ice sheet to ice sheet without falling into the icy water. Keep moving on the ice to avoid being caught by Cretaceous.

Maelstrom: Scrat has been swallowed whole by Maelstrom (a Pliosaur), and has to find his way out. This level was fun but quite gross as Scrat has to navigate his way through its digestive system!

See the Ice River and Inside Maelstrom level here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ii9e0XDgSoY&list=PL02CFE061D0C23908&index=6&t=0s

Mud Bog

Stages: 

Mud Bog 1, Mud Bog 2, Mud Bog 3, Mud Bog 4 and Mud Bog 5.

Probably the most challenging part of the game, the mud bog included a memory based mini game called Mud Bog Memory Challenge.

I used to find this part quite challenging as it requires you to memorise the flip patterns the Starts (moeritherium) perform.

I enjoyed the Mud Bog 5 stage, as Scrat could ride a secretary bird (known as a Swamp Bird in the game) to reach areas inaccessible to him.

See the Mud Bog level here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=52lqkO46Ml0&list=PL02CFE061D0C23908&index=8&t=0s

Sloth Village

Stages:  

Sloth Village 1, Sloth Village 2, Sloth Village 3, Sloth Village 4 and Sloth Village 5.

This level is based in the mini sloths camp and features Sid, who Scrat has to rescue. Scrat also needs to obtain a golden nut by winning a digging contest mini game against Crash.

See the Sloth Village level here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JPeTUehXrag&list=PL02CFE061D0C23908&index=10&t=0s

Glacier

Stages:  

Glacier 1 (part 1), Glacier 2 and Glacier 1 (part 2) and Glacier 3 and Glacier 1 (part 3).

This level takes place during the flood sequence. Scrat needs to help Diego escape from an ice cave before it fills up with water.

See the Glacier level here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71oXIDgJ7sk&list=PL02CFE061D0C23908&index=12&t=666s

Upon completion of each stage, stills from the film and concept art is shown with a short scene commentary by Ray Romano (Voice of Manny).

Game music: 

The game’s fun, easy listening and atmospheric soundtrack was composed by former Eurocom Entertainment Software (Now Frontier Developments) game music composer, Jim Croft.

Some of the music was re-used in the 2009 video game, Ice Age 3 Dawn of the Dinosaurs.

you can listen to the soundtrack here:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLO4jlmGoc6uDm0QVLyMqURTP2ciHWjCF_

Behind the game: 

Interestingly, the Mud Bog stage environment was going to be included in the film, but was removed and recycled in the game instead.

The Eviscerator in the game is also different from the film, as it forms a curving ice slide in which Sid slides down to perform jumps and pass through check points to score points. In the film it is a large waterfall.

The game features various angry creatures which Scrat has to avoid or attack throughout the game. These creatures include boars, wolves, bats, dodos, polar bears, massive spiders and many other creatures. Many of these creatures were recycled from deleted content from the film.

Like in the beginning of the film, Scrat can drink water from geysers which makes him inflate and fly across the stage (See screenshot). This is very funny and can help you get to unreachable areas where goodies are hidden.

Compatibility: 

When it came out back in 2006, Ice Age 2: The Meltdown ran on Windows 2000 and Windows XP. However I have also played this game with no problems on Windows 7 64-bit. It also works on Windows 8.1 and possibly on Windows 10.

The recommended system specifications to run the game is pretty standard for today. This includes a Pentium 4/Athlon XP or better CPU, DirectX 9.0c, a 128 MB 3D graphics card and 1.4 GB Hard Disk Drive space. It is a 32-bit game.

Extras: 

Going through each stage collecting nuts gives you points which when reached unlock bonus behind the scenes material. 

You can see the material here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hcu0w1-0uic

Conclusion: 

I really enjoyed playing Ice Age 2: The Meltdown, I liked the way the game bases itself on the events of The Meltdown as seen through the eyes of Scrat. The graphics are colourful & simple, yet nicely detailed for a game of that time. 

You can also freely explore each in-game environment as well.

I also liked the sound effects used in it as well. You can hear different sound effects according to the environments you are playing in, and Scrat himself makes a great collection of sounds throughout the game!

However it is shorter to play than most movie based games.

Also the game has a limited maximum display resolution of 1024x768 and basic widescreen support.

Ice Age 2 also required you to save levels in order to re-play them, as you can't select or replay levels once the game has been completed.

This did not stop it from being fun to play.

In June 2018, I gave the game away to Oxfam in Farnham.

Overall an enjoyable, memorable and challenging movie-based game. I would definitely play this game again if I had the chance!

[head---ache]

oc posting:))

[freewithyourtempo]

Argue me tender, argue me true (pt. 8)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

Charles was zombing his way across the hall. He felt ashamed and vulnerable, with his guts inside out. He was on edge, waiting mindlessly for anyone to start laughing at his stupidity.

Not that he thought that he would make fun of what had happened…

When he heard someone calling his name, Charles considered ignoring them. He tried to sink in his own shoulders and turned towards the voice. The principal’s secretary was hurrying towards him and waving something shiny in his hand. “Xavier,” he huffed, reprimanding. His forehead was damp and he looked like he had spent the morning rolling up and down the sleeves of his shirt and moving boxes. “Here, keep this.” Something small and cylindric was hastily put in Charles’ hand. It was the key to his collar. “What is-” “Now that it is done, please tell your friend Erik Lehnsherr to reshape the locks of our offices and toilets. Maybe we can’t prove that it was his doing, but we certainly know it was. We are keeping an eye on him. Have a nice day.”

He stomped away leaving Charles gaping in the middle of the corridor. Charles looked down at the key in the center of his palm and closed his fingers around it. “Fuck. Couldn’t you be a bit less. Fuck you, Lehnsherr.” “I thought you were about to do just that.” Charles tiredly hauled his lips in a smile and faced his just arrived friend. “He didn’t like me that much, Moira.” He shrugged with one shoulder. “It happens.” Mora frowned in confusion and adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “How do you-” “I…” Charles rubbed his arm and looked away. “I may have told him that I liked him when I was drunk after Azazel’s party. He told me it was better if I went away.” Moira blinked and tilted her head. “It’s just… So weird.” She admitted frankly. “Like, really weird.” “How so?” “Have you seen Davis around, lately?” “I don’t even know who he’s supposed to be.” Moira rolled her eyes. “The bag of dicks that pushed you against the wall last week.” “Oh,” Charles said. He remembered that day for a different reason altogether. “What’s up with him?” Moira didn’t even try to hide her pleased, seraphic smile. “He has a black eye and a dislocated jaw. He hasn’t been able to mutter his homophobic and mutantphobic shit since that day.” She folded her arms and raised one suggestive eyebrow. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Charles stammered. “I-It doesn’t mean anything,” he denied. The bruise on Lehnsherr's face was freshly painted in his mind. His heart sunk in his stomach and started hammering there. “Lehnsherr has always advocated for mutants. He would have done the same for anyone.” Evidently. “He beat the shit out of him, Charles. He risked suspension. At best. Probably expulsion.” Moira eyed the key in his hand and stared. “Twice this week, I would say.” Charles shrugged again, because he didn't know what to say to that. 

Lehnsherr wasn't interested, had said that much. It was better not to dwell on things that almost were. Charles sighed. Or weren’t, apparently, because it was all in his head. He probably spent too much time in there. Moira huffed. “Do you think I should go thank him for this?” Charles asked, holding the key between his thumb and index. Moira linked their arms. “I really think you should, Charles, if you feel like it.”

Charles heard a commotion, then the door of the classroom swung open and banged against the opposite wall. Someone gasped. 

Hank appeared on the threshold, pale and agitated. 

“McCoy!” The professor exclaimed. “What on Earth is happening?” “I’m really, really sorry, professor,” Hank answered, and he was so upset that his skin was swinging between blue and white. “But I need Charles. Immediately.” Charles stood up and Hank turned towards him. “It’s about Alex. We’d ask Lehnsherr, but we can’t find him anywhere…” Charles pulled the key out of his back pocket and shoved it in the collar. It clicked open with a mechanical swish, and Charles tossed it on the desk. 

Voices arose in his head as he had just turned the volume on. “Where is he?” “Park, behind the cafeteria,” Hank answered. Charles hurried down the stairs and together they ran across the corridor. 

Alex was standing in the middle of the park, alone. The grass around him was scorched and greyish, and Charles could smell smoke. 

Alex’s shirt was pulsing red in correspondence of his chest. 

“Oh, thank you, fuck,” he said when he saw Charles stepping towards him, Hank on his tow. He was shivering from head to toe. “Just knock me out already.” “There’s no need for that, Alex,” Charles said, keeping his voice steady. His throat was tight. “Take it easy.” Alex scoffed angrily, and the red in his chest heightened. He clenched his fists and snarled. “Easy? I was about to explode in the middle of the Cafeteria, Xavier. Fucking explode.”

Charles could feel anger, and frustration, and biting terror howling and scratching at his shields like rabid dogs. Everything was flashing red and white, everything was swirling, his mind was cracking under the blows of panic. But above all else he felt a growing heat right over his stomach, boiling and buzzing, ready to cut through his flesh. 

“But you didn't, Alex. You controlled it.” “Barely.” Alex looked away, chest heaving. His muscles were strained in the effort of keeping the energy inside his body. “I can’t do this. I shouldn’t be here. I can’t, why don’t you understand. I just can’t.” “But you do, you can,” Charles replied firmly, and stepped forward. “You have been here for months, don’t let one slip up mess with your head.” “My slip-ups could cost lives!” “Mine too,” Charles said, smiling sadly. “And Erik’s, or Janos’. You deserve to be here, Alex, and you're making wonderful progress every day. People want you here and will help you. I promise.”

The raw dogs had receded now, and while Alex looked him in the eyes, vulnerable and hopeful, Charles could only feel angry birds screeching. Terror was no longer stabbing his shields, but Alex's thoughts had to be directed elsewhere, or they could start collapsing on themselves all over again. “Besides, you can’t go before declaring yourself.” Alex’s mind snapped in surprise, as if kicked out of track. His eyes flashed towards a point behind Charles, where Hank had been fidgeting for the last five minutes. 

Hank held his breath loudly.

“You’re such a little shit,” Alex accused Charles, blushing furiously and looking at everything that wasn’t Hank. Charles smirked through a fog of embarrassed excitement. “I never said whom you should declare to, dear. But it has been a long time coming, so...” Alex glared under thick eyebrows, but at least his body had stopped trembling and glowing red. “You’re one to talk,” he huffed and folded his arms. “Clearly you and Lehnsherr still have your heads up your asses.” It was Charles’ turn to gape, but immediately stopped when he saw Alex sneering. “Your sources are unreliable, I’m afraid. There’s nothing between us.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “Says who.” Charles swallowed. “Says he.” “That’s not what--” Alex stopped and lifted his hands in surrender. “Know what. Not my business. Morons. Sexual tension is so thick between you two not even my blasts could cut through it. It’s disgusting.” “Mmh,” came Hank thoughtful voice. “I’ll have to vouch for that.” “Shut up,” Charles grumbled, cheeks flagging hot in embarrassment. “I came here to help, and look at what I have to endure. I don’t deserve this.” “You started it.” “Count to one hundred, and if you’re still not shooting lasers through your nostrils by then, you’re good to go. Undeserving scoundrel.”

This time Charles knocked. 

He had this whole speech prepared, schemingly littered with thankfulness and apologies about ill-time confessions, and closed by a joke to lighten up the mood. He felt clear-minded and self-possessed, with steady hands and a firm voice. He raised his mental shields. He swallowed against the heart in his throat. He also felt nauseous, but that was irrelevant, all things considered. He just needed to breathe and stick to the scenario sprawled out in his mind. No interruptions, no blubbering, no undignified ogling… 

The door swung open. Lehnsherr was steaming hot. Literally. Fat droplets of water clung to the wet tips of his hair and splashed on his neck to ran down the collar of his shirt, darkening the fabric. The bare skin of his arms and throat glistened and puffed slow swirls of steam. He was barefoot. Charles closed his mouth audibly and irritably. “Oh, fuck me.”

@helene-of-spain , @youarerageandserenity, @why-cant-people-just-think, @auri-moon , @starkqnthony, @docty-strange , @starkxavier, @ectoplasmaticpansexual, @season-four-is-imminent, @ unticka

[ill-skillsgard]

The Offer - Henry Deaver x Mistress

Warning: 18+ brief mentions of sex/public teasing/cheating/etc.

Soooo here’s another Henry x mistress imagine that nobody asked for. And just so you all know, I will continue to use your prompts in these imagines as they fit the timeline I’m going for. So if you’ve sent an ask about this dirty cheating bastard, I haven’t ignored it! I just have this world unfolding in my brain and I have to make the pieces fit accordingly. Thanks for reading and, y’know... Not jumping down my throat about the content. Enjoy! PS, I wanna know who sent the original Henry and his mistress prompt. You have single-handedly ruined my life and I love you for it. 

Enjoy!

The drive to the next city over started out great. Henry had picked you up at your apartment building exactly when he said he would and smiled brightly as you came out trying to hide your own eager grin. His eyes followed you, entranced for a moment until he snapped out of his short-lived daze, whipped his seatbelt off and got out of the car so he could open the passenger side door for you. You went red in the cheeks when you realized what his intentions were and stood next to the running car. Trying to get a good look at him before he approached only made you seem like you were checking him out, and you were, and he bubbled inside knowing that your stare was on him.

"Henry, you don't have to open the door every time. I promise you won't lose any gentleman points if you just let me do it myself," you lightly chided.

"Non-sense. I'm picking you up for a date. I pick you up, open your door, walk beside you, pay for dinner and then hopefully by the end of the night, I'll get a kiss."

"You'll get a lot more with that attitude," you joked.

"I don't see the mystique in allowing you to do everything. Open your own door, get in while I'm still sitting, split dinner and whatnot... No. That's not how a man takes a woman out on a date."

"If you insist, Mr. Deaver."

You loved the way Henry fumbled with his bottom lip and tried not to act like you referring to him so formally turned him on. He probably heard that all day long from his employees and peers but never in a context such as the subtle ribbon of seduction you wove around the title. You gave it a lustrous ring, a potent flick in the groin that made him want to hate you for tainting such an everyday greeting. 

The drive drew out before you realized that Henry was taking you into the next town over. He didn't have to tell you why because you already understood his motivations. It was too risky for him to be seen with you in the city where so many people he might know had the chance to happen upon you. This he did not speak, but you were in silent agreement. The guilt you had been successfully suppressing so far was starting to leak out of the seams, threatening to bust out and flood your head with more than just a pang of liability. There was a monster of shame growing in you and you could feel it squirming already in its early stages. You could only imagine the size of Henry's own iniquitous beast; it must have sprouted legs by now.

Henry ordered whiskey and implored you to go nuts and order whatever you wanted regardless of the cost. The wine was brought to the table and you dove into your first glass with no hesitation. After he had had a thorough look around the restaurant, he settled into his seat, relaxed his shoulders, stretched his legs out under the table and reached one hand between the water cups and the centrepiece of shell white calla lilies until you threaded your fingers through his. The pads of your fingers rested on his knuckles and you smiled as he began stroking the web between your index and thumb.

His ring was off and you could only wonder whether he had been keeping it off or if he was trying to spare you the reminder again. You didn't want the answer as much as the question flapped around in your head like a bird caught in a flag. This was supposed to be a nice night— your first one together since Paris.

"What are your plans after dinner?" You asked.

Henry smirked, a weak scoff leaving him in the process. "You're already thinking about the end of our date, huh?"

"No, not like that. I just want to know what you're thinking."

Henry leaned in closer, tightening his grip on your hand and whispered, "Well, I was hoping to take a pretty lady back to my place."

"Your place?" Your whisper was rash with disbelief.

"Yes. The condo. It's officially all mine."

"I get to see where you live?"

Henry bobbed his head back and forth, weighing his words. "I'd hardly say that I live there. Most nights I'm in a hotel living out of a suitcase. But, yes. I'd like to take you there... If you would allow it."

You scrunched up your face jokingly. "I'll allow it."

"Great," his eyes sparkled as he raised your hand up to kiss your knuckles.

He only let go of your hand when your food arrived and he had properly thanked the server. You both ate and chatted about average topics, skirting around the fact that ninety percent of your exchanges as of late had been heavily laced with explicit details of how bad you both wanted to fuck each other. Was he ignoring that, or was he too much of a gentleman to bring it up in public?

Taking matters into your own hands, you slipped off your right shoe and lifted your leg up until you found his thigh with the ball of your stocking foot. Henry straightened in his seat, nearly choking on a piece of pasta. He grabbed his linen napkin to wipe at an invisible splotch of food at the corner of his mouth while you ran down the inseam of his pants and didn't stop until thigh met groin. 

"Insatiable woman," he whispered.

"Sexy man," you countered.

Henry looked down to see your painted toes encased in nylon, pressing at his groin until he ran the risk of becoming too aroused. He clamped one large hand around your foot, halting you from rubbing at him.

"Hey, now... I have to ask you something. Let's uh... Save the tickle time for home... Or the car," his tone went dreamy.

You gave him your best evil smirk and withdrew your foot only because the premise of him having a question to ask you temporarily stole your attention.

"What is it, Mr. Deaver?"

He shivered slightly, trying to shake off the butterflies hosting a grand waltz in his stomach. "I've been thinking about you lately."

"I certainly hope so," you giggled.

"Not like that. Well... Yes, like that but also in a more professional way."

You were intrigued. Unsure of what he meant, you sipped your wine and listened intently for him to continue. "I know you don't particularly enjoy your job and I can't stand the thought of how people treat you... So I was racking my brain trying to think of some solution. There's school, apprenticeships, night classes... And then I thought of something else."

Henry paused for you to answer but you were caught up in the anxiety of what he might say next. "I'm all ears!" You urged him on.

"My assistant is going on maternity leave soon..."

"Oh... My god."

"Don't jump yet... Just listen. She's going on maternity leave for a few months and I need to find someone to replace her. She's had no time to train a stand-in, so I've been charged with hiring somebody that I think would fit the slot."

"Henry..."

"Let me finish," he raised his hand to quiet you down. "Look... I know it's a dumb, stupid, idiotic idea but I can't think of anyone better to fill the position than you."

"I don't know the first thing about being an assistant," you claimed.

"You know your way around a computer, yes?"

"Of course."

"And you can work a cell phone, I've gathered. You can write, you know... And read. All qualifying traits," Henry chuckled. "It's really just a glorified secretary job. Only... You get to travel with me and... Book my hotels, flights, dinners, lunches... set up my appointments, take my calls when I'm busy."

"Henry, that is absolutely ludicrous."

"I know," his eyes brimmed, and for a moment he looked like a vibrant young man that had just fallen in love. "It's really stupid! But... God, I just want you around me and I don't want to think of you making half of the minimum wage at a job where people don't even thank you."

"But an assistant? That's really playing with fire."

"Look... You don't have to say yes or no just yet. Have some time to think about it. She's not leaving for another couple of weeks. And if you still hate the idea then I'll find you something else."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I told you... I don't want you working in the café anymore. You're too good for that."

"What about—?"

"I'm taking care of everything."

"Maybe you should take care of your own business before you try taking care of mine," you looked down at his ringless hand.

"What do you think I'm in the process of doing?"

"I don't know," you admitted.

"As far as I'm concerned... We're separated. My business is my own. I can have dinner with whomever I want... Hire whomever I want. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Does she know that you're going around telling everyone that you're separated or is that just what you're saying to me?"

Henry withdrew into his seat, grimacing at you for the gentle accusation. It was to be expected. Your incredulity was not unwarranted and he knew that. With a sigh, he lifted his tumbler and sipped his whiskey slow.

"Nobody knows yet. It's not really something you can just casually bring up in the office."

"That's why we're in another city having dinner at a place that's nearly impossible to get a reservation for, isn't it? You haven't told anybody."

"Do I need to?"

"I guess not if you're still worried," you grumbled.

"Hey... Come on. This is all still very fresh. It's not like I'm going to parade through the streets telling people that my marriage failed and I've already fallen for somebody else."

The last part of his statement made your heart clench tightly in your chest. He had fallen for you. And now he wanted you by his side to oversee his day to day proceedings. It was a roundabout way of him saying something that he wasn't sure if he could say yet. Suddenly your skepticism faded and you chose to look at the endearing side of his offer.

"I hate you," you said with a wry smirk.

"If you hate me so much then why don't you put your foot back in my lap and try to get me hard again?"

"Yes, sir."

[quirkykayleetam]

Broken Pieces Pt. 4: Beth’s Answer

Beth knew something was wrong as soon as Jay didn’t walk through the doors of their apartment building at exactly 5:37 pm.

She imagined what always happened at time, what should have been happening then: Jay would check their mail, draining the last drops of soda from a Grape Crush can.  Condensing the aluminum, they would smile to themselves and deftly toss the can into the recycling bin while humming a wordless tune.  They would switch their mail to their left hand before heading up the stairs to knock on Beth’s door and tell her the stock market index.  Beth didn’t know why Jay did this.  To her knowledge, neither of them owned stocks, but it made Jay feel better, so Beth always smiled and wished them well.

That was their routine.  That was safe.  This emptiness was not.

“Calm down,” Beth muttered to herself, sipping herbal tea from a hideously orange discount mug.  “The kid could have a night out with friends.  (On a Thursday?)  They could work late.  (Despite their painstaking precision)  They could...have a date?”

Beth shouldn’t be worried about them.  Not when they were just a few minutes late.

But then Jay didn’t show up to the apartment’s lounge the next morning to help Beth with her crossword puzzle.  They didn’t tease her about ignoring the Sudoku or make faces at her mug of tea.  Beth grit her teeth and shut her eyes.  She couldn’t take it anymore.  She had to act, to do something, to try to right this wrong in the world.

“What’s the name?”

“Jay.  Well, technically Jonathan Anthony Young.  Junior.  Their dad died a few years ago and they’ve gone by Jay ever since.”

Beth knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t help it.  The police station made her nervous and the cop behind the desk just wouldn’t seem to listen.

“Age?”

“26.  Maybe 27?  They don’t talk about their birthday much because they hate being the center of attention and never want folks to make a fuss.”

“And you are?”

“Their neighbor.”

“Just a neighbor?”

“A friend.”  

Beth squeezed her hands together.  She needed more caffeine.

“Look, are you sure he didn’t just go out of town for a few days without telling you?  I mean, it’s not like you’re family,” the cop said, fake sympathy dripping from her voice.

That was it.  Beth had had enough.  She slammed her shaking hands down on the desk in front of her.

“Look, the kid has OCD, okay?  They don’t break their routines, not for anything or anyone. So when I say Jay didn’t meet me for tea and crosswords this morning I’m not saying that I miss them.  I’m saying that they’re MISSING.  If you don’t let me file a Missing Person’s report whatever happens to them is on you.”

***

72 hours.

Beth cursed under her breath as she left the precinct.  72 hours before the police would do anything.  72 hours before anyone else would even care.  Beth tried to hold out half a hope that Jay’s fancy-pants computer job would notice when he didn’t show up in the morning, but she was too angry to think straight.

Jay was in trouble and she couldn’t help him.  All she could do was wait.

Months passed. Beth had never felt more useless.  Somedays her godawful mugs were filled with more whiskey than tea.

Then there was a knock on her door in 342 B.

“Elizabeth Martinez?”

The man in the suit eyed Beth warily, but remained professional.  Whoever he was expecting, it obviously wasn’t an overweight 38-year-old secretary.  His hands were full of papers and he was backed by stiff security guards.

Beth straightened her posture.  She wouldn’t intimidated without a damn good reason.

“Yes,” she said, parking her body in the middle of her door.

“You were listed by Morgan Security as Jay’s emergency contact.”

The words almost made her knees buckle.

“What happened?  Did you find him?  Is he..?”

“He’s alive.”

Beth breath wooshed out of her in a rush.  She felt something like relief for the first time in months and it terrified her.

“We’d like to discuss the details,” the suited man continued.  “May we come in.”

Beth stepped back from the door.

***

Torture.

Beth’s hands gripped her mouth and her chest as they told her.  Jay had been TORTURED.  Apparently they’d held up well, hadn’t given up anything.  Beth couldn’t care less about that.  She just wanted to spare him that pain.  That agony.  Jay was just a kid.  They didn’t deserve…

She shook her head and turned back to the conversation.  That train of thought would take her nowhere.  She couldn’t help Jay then, but she could as hell help them now.

Morgan Security didn’t want this to go public.  Their clients’ trust in their company was paramount.  The business didn’t want it shaken by a scandal like this.  They offered to pay for all of Jay’s medical bills, rent for a house out of the city, a generous stipend for Beth so she could take care of Jay full time.

Remuneration, they called it.  Thanks for Jay’s hard work and loyalty.

Beth called it Hush Money.

She still signed on the dotted line.

“Jay’s mother?” She demanded before the deal was done.

“Excuse me?”

“She’s sick.  Lives in a psych ward at Felicity General.  Jay always spent a considerable amount of their salary to keep her cared for and comfortable.”

“Certainly,” the suit said.  “We can continue those arrangements.”

“Good.  Now when can I see Jay?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

Beth squared her gaze and prepared for a fight.

“Jay’s parents are out of the picture.  Their father is dead and their mother can’t tell a hawk from a handsaw.  What do you want to bet that Jay put me down as primary carer on his medical forms too?  Wait, I bet you already know that.  So if you want to try to stop me from tracking that kid down and ramming 12 lawsuits down your throat, be my guest.  I think it would be easier if you took me to him.  Now.”

The suit straighten his tie and cleared his throat.  He nodded.

Beth grabbed her purse to follow him out the door when she heard a soft murmur from the security guard behind her.

“All this trouble for one broken computer tech…”

Before she knew it, Beth was at the man’s throat, finger pointed firmly at his nose.

“You will never call Jay broken again, you hear me?  They may be hurt.  Hell, they may be hurting for the rest of their life.  But they are a person, not a thing you can toss on the ground and just leave.  They gave everything for you and even if they didn’t, they would still deserve your respect.”

She spit in the guard’s face.  No one else moved.

“Now come with me,” she said darkly.  “I’ve got a job for you.”

***

A flurry of activity met Beth and the suit as they walked into Jay’s spacious hospital room.  Guards were stationed at every entrance.  Beth wasn’t sure if they were supposed to make Jay feel safe or to protect Morgan Security’s investment.

“What’s wrong?” the suit said.

“Jay’s asking again,” said a nearby nurse, walking by with a used IV.  “We’ve tried telling them that the operation took 8 hours or that they slept on and off for 3 days.  They’re still agitated.  We don’t want to sedate them until after the doctor has examined their ribs.”

Beth breezed passed the conversation until her eyes found the hospital bed.  Immediately, her hands went to her mouth and chest again.

Jay was hardly recognizable.  Even at 6’2,’’ they looked small.  Starvation had withered them down to a bean pole.  The parts of their skin that was visible above the blankets was purpled with bruises that seemed to sink into their body like they were still being beaten.  Their hands were suspended above them, encased in white plaster casts with splints everywhere that Beth could see.

Jay was clearly exhausted and disoriented.  Dark circles under his eyes betrayed in the wildness within.  They thrashed against their restraints, trying to meet the gaze of everyone around them.

“How long?” they asked, voice cracking.  “How long?”

“7 months, 24 days, and this morning,” Beth said loudly.  Everyone in the room turned to look at her.  She kept her eyes planted firmly on Jay’s.

“You’ve been gone for 7 months, 24 days, and this morning,” she continued, motioning the security guard she accosted in her apartment to bring over a formidable cardboard box.  “And we noticed, Jay.  We missed you every second.  We would never let you fade away.”

The patient’s struggling ceased.  Jay looked back at Beth, still lost.

She went to the box and lifted newspaper after newspaper out of it, bringing all she could hold in her arms to Jay’s bedside.  She held them up one by one so Jay could see the dates, the tangible proof that time existed outside of whatever cell he was held in, proof that they were out of there and that this, this was real.

“That’s today’s date, Jay-bird.  That’s the date you are free.”

Jay, however, just kept scanning the page until he found the Sunday crossword.

“You didn’t do it,” they whispered.

“Of course not.  I didn’t do any of them.” Beth said, gesturing to the box of papers.  “I couldn’t.  Not...not without you.”

She brushed curly blond hair back from Jay’s forehead as it tightened into a frown.

“But, I can’t...I can’t help you,” Jay said miserably, gesturing with his head at his splintered hands.

“Pfft, as if I ever let you write on my crosswords anyway!” Beth said gently.  “Now will you settle down and let these doctors do their job?  I don’t know about you, but I need a nap.  Then you can help me with 12 down.  It’s a stumper.”

For the first time sense the Faceless Men jumped them, Jay smiled.  They settled back against the pillows, fading quickly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

@dragonyoudownwithme​ requested Anger Born of Worry.  I’m pretty darn sure this counts!

I really wanted you all to meet Beth and (hopefully) love her like I do.  Please let me know what you think!!!

Tagging the Broken Pieces Crew: (If you want to be added or taken off this list, just let me know!):  @stoic-whumpee​​, @whatwasmyprevioususername​​, @whumpty-dumpty-fell-off-the-wall​​, @straight-to-the-pain​​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​, @0idril0​​, @fallingstormphoenix​​, @whump-fantasies​​, @imagination1reality0​​, @whumpback-wail​, @whump-tr0pes​, @untilthepainstarts​, @captivity-whump​

[evien-stark]

:I Need You: Chapter 16

[Tony Stark x Reader :: You can find more in the index or on A03!]

There was a touch of cold across the waves as you made your way down the private beachfront. The sun was only just starting to set, casting picture perfect pinks and purples across the sky. You were resolved to do the romantic beach walk no matter what he said- long white sheer cardigan fluttering in the breeze, but as you turned back to look at him, his smile gave away his true feelings about it.

“Are we doing a photoshoot for Elle or what? Where are the cameras?”

“I think you mean Cosmo. And shut up. I’ll do the cliched romantic beach thing if I want to.” Despite this you felt just a little bit of shame bubble up, turning away from him.

“Hmn.” A small amused noise before he was suddenly right behind you, scooping you up into his arms without warning, something that earned a tiny shout of surprise. But he didn’t stop there, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hung on for dear life. “Does that mean I should-” Walking ever closer and then stepping down into the lapping of waves along the sand. “Take you all the way into the water?”

“It’s freezing, Tony! Don’t be ridiculous!” But you found yourself scared he might actually do it.

Even though his genuinely cheerful laughter was a sight to behold and quite the sound to listen to, that it was at your nervous expense dampened the feeling it elicited. Only slightly. “You wanted to go on vacation to do things you’ve seen in movies, so why not?”

“That’s not why I wanted to go on vacation.” Firm, though your smile gave you slightly away. Your arms were a little looser around his neck, one hand touching up along the back of his hair.

“Really? Because I was just thinking we could do the thing where I kiss you and spin in a circle.”

Your nose scrunched, a little giggle escaping. “It sounds absolutely stupid when you put it that way.”

“My point exactly.”

The sounds of your mutual laughter died down, the warm glow of the sunset cast perfectly across his face, and soon it was just the two of you smiling at one another while he still held you strong and steady in his arms. “Do it anyway, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He was there in just another moment, and you couldn’t quite help the soft but heavy inhale as his lips touched against yours. Careful. Sweet. Everything you needed. You left one arm around his neck, your other hand moving to sweep up across the side of his neck, the line of his jaw, and then cupping his cheek. A little inquisitive break, parted lips just brushing over one another, another quiet breath.

The sway of him actually turning in a slow circle threw you off, pressed you closer, found him there again with a light and warm brush of tongues. He held you closer then, much tighter, an embrace you were ready to drown fully in-

Just before he made a very strained and nervous sounding noise and then the motion of turning in a circle quickly turned into falling. Your shriek must have scared every bird away within a two mile radius, as cold ocean water soaked up through your side. He had tried to take the brunt of the fall, only failing slightly.

“Tony!” Springing up quickly, entirely unamused at his sudden laughter.

While you were on your feet, he was sitting up, hands on his knees, as he directed such a boyish and just carefree smile your way, laughter still consuming him. The lines around his eyes, the crinkle of his forehead- the sheer look of joy really suited him. Had you ever seen him laugh this hard? Even if it was at your expense. “What!” Said when he could finally get a word out around his reaction. “It was an accident!”

Even though you’d started off hot, just the look of him had pulled you into giggles as you reached down to take hold of his hand to try and help him up. “That was nothing like in the movies.” The chill was starting to set in.

“I can try again?”

Shaking your head, still all smiles, you reached up to take the sides of his face in your hands, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “It was better.” Because it was real. Because it was him.

His warm happiness spread through you, lips grinning against yours. “No surprise there. However-” Just a slight strain as he ducked down to lift you again. “I must insist. Until we get it right.”

“Tony-” Just a sound of shock as you clung to him. “No- I’m cold-” Not that you wouldn’t want to spend the rest of the sunset just kissing him senseless, but being freezing and wet was more on your mind.

You found yourself glad as he started walking out of the water and to the villa. “Alright. So I’ll warm you up. And then we’ll try again tomorrow.”

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

Dinner had been a perfect storm. An entirely empty restaurant because Tony had bought all their reservations out hours before deciding that’s where he wanted to eat. And that he wanted to be alone. Even though it had been guaranteed that anyone else there would have kept to themselves and not bother the two of you, that wasn’t enough for him.

When you’d tried to chastise him for such an improper use of the money he’d never be able to burn through in five lifetimes, he just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s better, like this. I can actually hear you yelling at me.” As if it would be just too terribly noisy with other patrons around.

...maybe he had a point, but not enough of one to justify this. “If you wanted to hear me yell at you, we could just have ordered room service.”

“I don’t want to hear you yell at me.”

“Then don’t do outrageous things with your money.”

His hands went palm up with a shrug. “I’d say on the scale of outrageous this is pretty low. You’re acting like I bought the entire restaurant.”

“Oh! Some self restraint.” Because that wouldn’t have been unusual for him to do, either.

He just grinned. “Getting better all the time.” Raising his glass to try and get you to cheers with him.

Something you did, but made quite the show of how begrudging it was. After a long sip, you couldn’t quite hide your smile. It would cause hell and you really shouldn’t feed into his behavior, but… “The quiet is nice.”

“See!”

More paired laughter found its way to the oceanfront.

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

 The wind was in front of you, tussling your hair back; a commonly chilly 56 degrees for the island in December. Stars above, beautiful and twinkling. Air fresh. Waves lapping over the beachfront of the private villa. An all too perfect late evening. There was something sick about questioning what perfection would lead to. As if neither of you deserved it. You tried to put it away, those dark thoughts, but they lingered.

Tony coming up behind you to settle a jacket on your shoulders only drew a soft startle and an understanding glance before he leaned out over the railing with you. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” Wishing that were true.

“Liar.” Countering very quickly, a little self-satisfied smile aimed in the direction of the ocean.

You clasped your hands together. “It’s been a while since it’s been this quiet.”

At that the expression disappeared but you felt him watching you out of the corner of your eye. “We came all this way to relax and yet neither of us can sleep. What a predicament.”

“What’s keeping you up? Besides working when you think I’m not looking.” He’d been doing it since touchdown. Maybe even before then. You decided to let it go. He listened in the important moments. If you asked him to put it all down you worried he’d resent you. Or feel crazed having to fit in a box when his mind was still reeling. It would do neither of you any good.

He huffed out an amused sound. “Well, now that I know that you know, that’s a load off my mind. Goodnight.” Turning with a hand over his shoulder.

One you reached for, taking a gentle hold of. He turned back without hesitation and you pulled him to loop his arm around your shoulder and put both your hands to his chest. Some terrible beach party had been blasting music a few houses down for hours now. It wasn’t too much of a bother as you could barely hear it, but now the both of you started swaying to the echoes. “I can’t stop thinking about where we’re headed.” Said, finally, in a soft murmur.

“Me, too.” It was comforting to know he was there with you. “Where do you see us down the line?”

You were glad you could hide your smile. “Isn’t it a bit early for a relationship talk?” You two had only officially gotten together not too long ago, after all. Making plans seemed like a poor idea.

“Professionally?” You weren’t sure if he was just teasing you.

Letting out a soft hum, “If we’re lucky, the same. You’ll keep being billionaire genius Tony Stark. Building new and wonderful things. And I’ll just be your press secretary and personal assistant. Getting you from point A to B. And making sure you’re on time for charity benefits. That sort of thing.”

His head dropped a little, resting atop yours. “What about Iron Man?”

“I thought you were Iron Man.”

“Oh, so now you get it.”

Despite the fact that the two of you could very easily settle into joking with one another and sweep it all aside, you took a moment to let silence sit before speaking again. “I don’t know. ...I’m scared, Tony. This is so much to take in. I think sometimes I’d rather rewind the clock and keep to myself.”

“I wouldn’t change what happened in a million years.” Not his kidnapping. Not his torture. Not his awakening. Not Obi. Not you. Not any of it. “Not all of it was good, but we’re pulling out ahead now.”

“The entire world thinks you’re a superhero. That invites chaos. Have you ever read a comic book?” It incited a challenge to people who had the potential to rival him. If there was any. After all, Nick Fury had said that world not only existed but was bigger than you knew. “You have a lot of enemies, too.”

“Can’t make an omelet.” Giving a simple shrug. Like none of it bothered him. But you could feel the ruffled feathers underneath. He dropped the pretense very suddenly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

It pierced your heart, that that was on his mind. But it made sense. You were doing the same. “I worry about you, Tony. Not me.”

“Let me do all the worrying. You’ve done enough.” He took one of your hands up above your head, spinning you around gingerly and then leading you down in a bend, his arm around your back. “We’re really good at this vacation thing. Aren’t we.”

A rumble of thunder sounded far off somewhere on the ocean. “Could’ve saved a lot of money just staying home and pretending everything was fine.” Smiling lightly as you slid your hands up. Though the glow of the Arc Reactor was muffled beneath his sweater, it stood out in the darkness between you.

“Money isn’t everything.” Voice rich and warm as he still held you safe in that dip. “We’re going to be okay.” Sliding your hands up further still you took hold of his face. “You believe me when I say that, right?”

He, who much like you, had no idea what was out there. And had just begged the universe to tell you. But he who also meant every word despite this. You’d never wanted to believe anyone more. It was easy, having also never loved anyone like him, either. Looping your arms around his neck, you eased him just those scant few inches down to take his lips in a careful kiss.

I do.

A song for that ever looming universe as you let him consume your better sensibilities. A little question of parted lips before a soft brush of tongues. All at once he seemed breathless, breaking for air, head leaned against yours- something you’d have very much liked to take credit for.

“-you did the thing.”

You couldn’t bear to open your eyes. “I did?” Scared of what that meant.

“I heard you.” At this you really did look, finding his eyes there, waiting.

“I didn’t say anything.” Terrified. “That’s not part of the thing.” You only very rarely caught people’s afterthoughts, if they were drenched in feeling. You’d never sent any. You couldn’t possibly. When you directed emotion through darkly thinking that was different. People couldn’t… they couldn’t hear you… right?

But his smile was soft. Soothing. “You’re telling me all of a sudden I can read minds? Fury will have to update my file.” He let you up but you didn’t go far.

Despite your mounting shame. “That’s not supposed to happen.”

“I’ve heard you before.”

“You have? When?” How long had this been going on for? How long had people heard your secrets? Your embarrassments? Your private thoughts?

“When we both thought I was having my last night on earth.”

I’m sorry. I forgive you.

I love you…

 Your face became consumed by a shameful redness, thankful it was so dark outside. “Oh.” This was something you’d never encountered before. Something you didn’t know. Maybe nobody else could hear anything.

Maybe, if you were the luckiest gal on earth, only Tony had ever heard you. And only ever twice. And even that was terribly unlucky. “You’ve never really used the thing a lot, right? Maybe it’s like a muscle.”

“We really have to find a better name for it.” Growing exasperated.

“-maybe that’s what Fury meant.”

Barely cooked. You’d never tapped your full potential. “I don’t wanna get involved with him.” Tony had already told them the two of you weren’t interested in this Avengers thing. Safer that way. Maybe.

“He might be the only one that can find somebody to help you. To teach you how to-”

You were shaking your head furiously. “No. I’d rather go on like this. I don’t need anything else. This is better than- than literally just begging for trouble.”

Reaching forward he put a hand at the back of your head, drawing you in close again, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Easy, easy. Relax, alright?” His hand stayed tangled in your hair as you looked up at him. “If it’s a no, it’s a no. I don’t think he’ll be too pleased when he found out what I was up to, anyway.”

That was all well and good. And fine. Perfect, really. Not getting involved with that organization. That was the right thing. “Okay. Well… I’ll just. I’ll be more careful.” Still feeling incredibly vulnerable.

“You don’t have to with me.”

You felt flush and just the slightest bit dizzy. Tony really was too much for you at times. “I don’t know what to say.” Being honest where all other words failed.

His smile undid you. “You don’t have to say anything.”

He wrapped you up again in his arms and you let yourself go willingly, sharing a much longer kiss.

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

 “What are you thinking?” His ache washed over you like waves on the beach.

You steeled yourself for the oncoming disappointment. “I’m not there yet.”

There was the initial pang, but it was gently laid to rest with his arms around you. “I’ll wait. No pressure.”

You believed him, when he said it. This time, and the last couple other times, too. You didn’t want to put him off forever, but the thought of going to bed had become terrifying. Somewhere in the back of your broken brain you worried. Worried that if you did… things would change. He’d make that realization you’d been telling yourself was foolish now. The one you spoke about at the party.

You just didn’t know if you’d live through Tony realizing he’d rebounded off of nearly dying by falling in love with you. And you worried the catalyst would be there between the sheets. And now this news about your voice in his head when things were intense… you were too scared you couldn’t control yourself. Too raw.

Soon, you kept telling yourself. And him.

Not yet. But soon.

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

 After the all too brief stint into pretend land, as soon as the wheels were back on the ground at home, things settled back into an annoyingly normal cadence. You were drowning in work, no thanks in part to Tony’s rush to get a million new things done, and he relegated himself to working in his lab.

You had taken about several thousand phone calls from sunrise to late afternoon, just on your way home from the office. Time’s Man of the Year piece had finally come out and they’d expressed a copy meant for Tony to get excited over. Even doing an entire story on him, they clearly had no idea who he was anymore. Perhaps both your faults’- Tony’s for not letting a real interview happen, and you for letting Tony not let a real interview happen and not making them use a better article. All very flattering words, and maybe you should have just counted yourself lucky to know the real man behind the mask.

You brought the magazine downstairs after thanking Happy for the ride home. Still sealed in its pristine plastic packaging, you set it down on the corner of his desk. He barely looked up from his seat in front of a brand new build of the Iron Man suit. How many was that now?

“What, you want me to sign it?” Yet he clearly knew you were there and what you had brought. All without taking his work goggles off.

“Well, if you’re in a signing mood, I need you to put that signature to use.” Opening the other folder you’d brought your eyes glazed over. “AccuTech needs schematics and a release from the exoskeleton, Cordco needs a release on the adapted repulsor, and Fujikawa has asked three separate times now for your help on the home HUD.”

“If they need me to make it for them, I’m redirecting all the profits.” He jammed a wrench up into the chest piece of the armor. Mechanical sounds flooded the air. “Everything else just sign for me- why don’t we have a stamp yet? A stamp sounds like a good time saver.”

Closing your folder, not even half through the list you’d brought, “In that case I’ll need you to sign a legal form so I can own your signature.”

“Now you’re just messing with me.”

You sat yourself on the corner of the desk. “The Holiday Ball is still waiting on your RSVP.”

“Pass.”

“Any thoughts on a therapist yet?”

“That’s a very hard pass.”

You’d long since lost the line on joking about that. It would probably be very good for him to sit down and talk to someone about everything he’d been through- and was clearly still going through. But he probably wasn’t apt to take it seriously enough for it to do any good. You’d ask again in a few more months.

“New Year’s Eve RVSP?”

“Who’s asking?”

“Dick Clark.”

“I’m busy.”

A heavier sigh than you meant escaped you. “What if I ask you?”

The twisting and turning of metal stopped and he sat back on his stool, lifting his goggles to look at you fully. It seemed like a nice break of peace was coming, but JARVIS’s voice chimed in instead. “I’ve located the cargo of the rifles, sir.”

“Rifles?!” Unable to help your surprise.

“He did that on purpose. Load it up JARVIS and otherwise keep your mouth shut.” Tony turned back abruptly to the suit, sliding the chest piece back into lock.

“I had no idea we were keeping it a secret, sir. My folly.”

“-because what he meant to say was missing rifles.” Throwing his wrench, gloves, and goggles on the workbench he stood up and you took stock of him. Terribly dirty but no worse for wear than usual. “They got rerouted from a burn site. I’m gonna go and destroy them myself.” You let a silence sit. “So. You know. Uncross your arms and stop looking at me like that.”

“People usually experience the feeling of guilt when they’ve done something they know they shouldn’t have.” Very purposefully in a know-it-all-tone.

He squinted. “Are you doing the thing?”

“I don’t even have to.” It wasn’t hard to spot. You did let your shoulders and arms drop as you came to a stand, but couldn’t help a disappointed shake of your head. “Why couldn’t you tell me?” Someone had stolen weapons off a destruct route? That was extremely important for you to know.

“Did you not just walk in here with a dictionary sized laundry list?” Trying very hard to bark up the tree of you’re too busy. But you were very sure you’d had the we’re in this together talk enough times by now. He motioned you over to one of the computer screens and reluctantly you went. “Tellor Propellant. First gen. Nothing serious. Somebody rerouted some trucks.” The path and new location drew up on screen.

In the back of your mind, the specs for these specific makes flashed angrily. A life long ago. Not important. Only slightly so you could personally verify what he was saying. If he took Iron Man to go get them, it wouldn’t be a big deal. They wouldn’t be able to hurt him even if they used them. “Who’s somebody?” If someone was stealing weapons before they could be destroyed, that was a big deal.

“JARVIS?”

“I’ve been so far unable to ascertain the identity of the thieves, sir. My apologies. I am still working on it.”

“Figures. Download the specs to Ms. INY’s workbase.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony waved them off screen and turned back to you. “I can go take this shipment down, but if I don’t find out who did it, they’re liable to do it again.” Asking you without asking you for help.

You let him hang for a moment, even though both of you knew you wouldn’t turn him down. “Say please.” Because he was right, at least. You were terribly busy. And this was just one more thing- albeit a little bit more important than parties and signatures.

 There is nothing else. Only the next mission.

 You fought away the echo of his words, the ones that nearly ended it all.

His hands took hold of yours. “Please.”

“If you keep insisting that you and Iron Man are the same entity, I need you to keep me looped in to your activities.” He opened his mouth to say something and you already knew what his defense was going to be. “If it’s dangerous for you, it’s dangerous for me no matter what. And I’d rather know ahead of time than be asked to find some criminals for you on the fly.”

He pressed his lips together to keep from talking during that, but the lowering of his shoulders signaled his defeat. There was a little twitch of a grin from the corner of his mouth. “I said please.”

Another sigh escaped you. “Fine, Tony. I’ll work on it. But I want your full attention on New Year’s Eve.”

Showing that he understood he nodded, “Fine. Just don’t expect me to rub shoulders with Seacrest.”

Leaning up you pressed a careful kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.” Turning away you went back to your thick folder full of itemized requests, picking it up off the desk.

Just as you were at the doorway, “JAVRIS, sync up the Iron Man work database with Ms. INY’s. All level access.”

“For how long, sir?”

You turned back to look at him. He was smiling as he replied, “Permanently.”

[alkhale]

hi! idk if youre still doing requests (please ignore this if you're not!) but would you be willing to write something about hawks trying to win over/court an omega who is really prickly/rough around the edges/hates being an omega? thank you very much! im sorry if you arent open for requests!

OFC YOU CAN HAVE AN ALPHA! HAWKS HERE YA GO

Another ko-fi request! This was a blast to write so ty for the prompt

No Need (Alpha!Hawks x Omega!Reader)

“What the heck is that?”

In hindsight, for a man who prided himself on always trying to look at things from a bird’s eye view, he probably should’ve foreseen what would happen after.

But Hawks was twenty-two and tired, so cut him some slack.

To his credit, you don’t look annoyed or offended. There’s a slight twitch to your brow, a faint downwards curve of your lip. You don’t look up from where you’ve been doing your paperwork, filing away his latest mission reports. “Papers.”

Hawks thumbed the cup of coffee in his left hand. He shifted on his feet and then thumbed the other cup in his right hand. He’d gotten two, one for you and one for him as your usual routine called for. You were always sliding time out for him to bring him something and it was only right he do the same for you–strictly as a kind boss and a good worker (which is what he would say to you until you gave him the signal that he could say otherwise). He’d even gotten the cream right this time, just the way you liked that always made you smile that kinda small, goofy and cute smile that made some more primal part of him pleased that he was doing something right.

He’d said once as an offhanded joke to test the waters that it was an alpha’s job after all to take care of his “pack.” You, despite being a beta, had refused the coffee if that was the case and told him he should’ve gone with flock instead.

Second genders are strictly secondary. He swallowed, a breezy grin curling over his lips as he arched one of his brows and tipped his head to the side. His wings shifted against his back, ruffling uncertainly because, well, yeah that had been the idea but now…

It didn’t look comfortable, for sure. Sleek, black, and sturdy. It curved around your neck and protected all the sensitive spots any typical omega would need to look out for when it came to unwanted advances. Forced marking could be considered a crime under certain circumstance, and the popularity in such protective collars had skyrocketed with recent realization that sometimes matters had to be taken into your own hands.

The collar clipped neatly around your neck, complete with a small silver flower to make the whole thing seem a little cuter than it actually was. Hawks’ brain was currently trying to reroute itself and arrive back on track because the biggest problem here was–

“You’re an omega?” Hawks swallowed.

The coffees in his hands suddenly felt like dead weight. There was a urging in the back of his mind to take this information with him and fly as fucking far with it as he could because–yes, yes, yes. He wanted you–beta, omega, hell, he’d find some way to work with it if you were an alpha too just…you. This sudden realization suddenly had his instincts shifting to attention and as annoying as the damn things were half the time, in his opinion, he felt strangely in line with them today as he stared, watching your face avidly and eyes dipping down to your wrists and then back to your protected neck.

He wanted to hold you, touch you, contact, contact, contact.

Right there. His mind urged. Right there. Right there. Make it happen. You can do this.

Your face went tense for a moment. Brows creased and you stopped writing at his question. Hawks’ mind quickly backpedaled and he racked his entire brain for a semblance of charm and persuasion to have you seeing him as much more than just a boss (maybe in the bedroom) and as someone who could potentially be your mate.

He justed wanted to make you happy.

“Well, it’s just that,” Hawks continued easily, setting the coffee down gently on your desk so he could free one hand. “I always thought you might’ve been a beta.”

Your face slackened a bit at that. So you don’t like being an omega. Your pen tapped against the paper, looking thoughtful and Hawks added, “Or an alpha to be honest.”

Your eyes flickered up to him, wide and searching and curious. God, I love those eyes. His wings shifted against his back, itching to curl around you on instinct to make this a private conversation between two. “You’re always taking such good care of me, you know? Getting things done, always on top of stuff… There’s no way I’d make it this far without you.”

“You’re too much,” you huffed. But there was a pleased little smile tugging at your lips and you hummed, pulling his coffee closer to you. Hawks felt his chest swell in pride and he leaned further on your desk, brushing the edge of his wing teasingly against the wood. “It’s just my job, you dork.”

“C’mon, I notice a lot more than you think I do,” Hawks protested. He casually dragged a finger against the smooth surface of your desk, drumming his fingers. “A lot, actually.”

You hummed in response, tipping the hot liquid towards your lips. Hawks reached upwards, fingers reaching past your cheek and you went rigid for a moment. He saw your nose twitch, your eyes flicker and he consciously urged his sent, his aura towards to just teasingly so. You were a special case, one that required a tactful approach and he’d do no less with you. His sent flooded your senses and he watched you throat bob as you swallowed thickly, bringing the coffee closer to your nose and his fingers tapped the hard metal of the collar.

Hawks frowned at the sound, tilting his head. “So what brought this on?”

If you felt the least bit threatened–he would step in. There was no way he’d allow you to feel such doubts and fear when he could do anything about. He was the number two hero for God’s sake–he could do this much for you at least.

You looked prettier without it anyways.

An image of his lips on you skin flashed through his mind and Hawks smiled, just short of starving.

You frowned, reaching up and brushing his hand aside as you touched your own collar. An angry scowl marred your lips and you scoffed. “Some asshole got a little too aggressive at the train station. Think just because my heat’s coming I’m an easy fix? What a load of crap.”

Hawks took two important bits of information from that sentence. Filing one away for his own personal use, he latched onto the other, “You filed a report, didn’t you?”

His wings fluffed out, making him look twice his size. “Accurate descriptions. I’ll find him myself and make sure he doesn’t do a single thing again. I can’t have my cute secretary being bothered on her way home from work.”

“Thanks, hero,” you grinned, shaking your head. “They took him in for questioning. It’s fine, I can take care of myself.” You flashed him a sharper look and he held up his hands placatingly, setting them back down closer to yours. “Just… felt like I should put this on for good measure is all.”

You sneered at the desk, “Since it’s so hard for people to resist an omega in heat. Jerks don’t even think that it’s their fault, always ours.”

Hawks made a mental note to look into the case anyway and see to it personally. His wings drooped a bit, an easy task to make himself appear at ease and inviting. He pushed out with a soothing scent, urging you to relax yourself and he hummed lowly in his throat when he saw your shoulders slacken a bit and your eyes fluttered shut as you inhaled.

“People only see omegas when they want to see them,” you murmured, eyes fluttering open and he watched as you subconsciously reached out with a finger and he curved one wing around for you. Your index finger dragged against one of his contour feathers and Hawks’ low noise of approval increased, bordering a purr. You sighed, his scent curling thickly around the two of you like a protective blanket.

And to the employees skidding to a halt outside your door, a warning.

“That’s all we are,” you scowled. “Nothing more.”

A thoughtful look flickered over your features and you set your coffee down. “You know, you smell oddly good today. Kinda like–”

“I see you.”

You stopped. Your eyes blinked, wide and confused and traveled up to meet his gaze. Hawks reached up, bringing his visor down to hang around his neck. Those sharp eyes pinned you into place and you felt a chill you hadn’t felt in a long time run down your spine. Your throat closed up, senses flaring and you suddenly felt nothing more than a field mouse parting ferns beneath the watchful eyes of something far above you.

Predator.

Though his eyes were sharp, they burned. You felt a flare of warmth along your cheeks and Hawks smiled. A boyish, easy smile that curved against his roguish features. “I see ya.”

Walls rose up and you reminded yourself of the tightness of your collar. “Yeah, yeah, I get it–”

“So let me walk you home from now on,” Hawks said smoothly. Your lost your voice, words tumbling over your lips as you stared and he smiled. “Okay?”

“I can take care–”

“Not to take care of you,” Hawks shook his head, hand settling atop yours when did that get there and his fingers brushed against your wrist, “to keep me company. I’ve been missing you.”

“But–”

“And from now on,” his other hand had already set down the second coffee. You were still, lost in those swirling, engulfing eyes as his fingers curved around your collar. They brushed below your chin, tilting your head just a bit to the side and Hawks’ lips curved into a sharper grin.

Hungry.

You felt the collar loosen and a soft click resounded through your office. The weight of your collar slipped from your neck and onto the floor with a quiet thud. Hawks dragged a finger along the thin column of your neck and his scent washed over you, comforting, sweet, powerful and your normally witty and quipped remarks died on your tongue as his wings fanned out and curved over both of you.

Hawks leaned forward and the sun turned his eyes molten.

“You won’t need that anymore.”

- i was gonna make reader a little more catty but c’mon, he brought you coffee

[birdy-rps]

The camera shifts slightly ad her face comes into view. Checking the settings one more time she smiles and waves to the camera,

"Hi! Today we are going to go through the various creatures I own and how I got them! Now, while I own an aviary, many of the birds just visit momentarily and then return home either to their owner or they are relocated to a proper habitat after rehabilitation. I own around 9 different birds, 2 different reptiles, one amphibian, one arachnid and 5 mammals."

She turns the camera around, showing her walking to a door. The door opens to reveal what appears to be a animal paradise, different glass domes showcasing brilliant fauna from different ecosystems. The first dome she walks into appears to be a north American forest, and the camera shows her sliding a thick leather glove onto her hand.

"First up, let's meet Arthur. Arthur is a Male great horned owl, who used to be a pet until his owners got tired of him. Instead of bringing him straight to a place like mine, they just let him out into the wild, leaving him defenseless and vulnerable to predators. He had no idea how to hunt for himself and hardly flew around unless he wanted to perch."

She makes a whistle noise and theres a barely there sound of flapping as a large owl swoops from the trees and lands on her gloved hand. The owl settles himself and preens lightly under the view of the camera.

"He was given to me by someone who found him practically starving to death out in the woods. I taught him how to fly and how to hunt by using treats whenever he did it well, but since he had been a pet most his life he refuses to leave and thus cannot be rehabilitated. He's very friendly and behaves well around all age groups so he is one of my best models for photographs when I go to teach kids about animals"

Raising her hand and making another whistle noise, Arthur flies off into the trees. Moving to another patch of trees, She reaches into a bag at her side and pulls out a small piece of raw cubed beef, clutching it between her thumb and index within the large glove. She makes a high pitched scree noise and a more noticable flapping noise is heard from directly in front. A gyrfalcon swoops down and lands on her hand, quickly gobbling down the beef.

"This is Fawkes, my gyrfalcon. Hes about 8 years old, and came to me about a year and a half ago, suffering from an injured foot. He was given to me by a retired falconer and very quickly got used to being pampered because of his injury and prefers to stay in the aviary where he can stretch his wings whenever he pleases but still get attention."

Raising her hand like she did with Arthur, Fawkes flies off into the trees. Taking the large glove off, she flips the camera to face her again,

"Those were my north American birds, now on to my tropical species"

There's a jump cut and now Sarah is shown standing in an area of lush fauna, two different species of macaws on her shoulders. The one on her left shoulder is a scarlet macaw, the one on the right is a hyacinth macaw. Adjusting the microphone on the small headset, she introduces the pair,

"This is Bow, the scarlet macaw, and Beck, the hyacinth macaw. Both are around the same age, about 4 years old, and I got both from a rescue program after their habitats were destroyed due to logging companies. Both are very friendly and will attempt to take any buttons you happen to have on you, hence why I'm wearing a regular T shirt without buttons on it. They hang out here in the tropical dome with each other and anyone who happens to stop by, so they're never lonely"

The camera now shows her sitting on a low branch next to a toco toucan, the bird walking back and forth along the branch.

"This is Tulio, the toco toucan. He has been with me ever since he was a hatchling, his species being a very popular pet. He was the runt and was gifted to me by a very reliable avian breeder. He's very friendly and loves to eat fruit, and I often let those who pose with Tulio feed him a berry or two as a treat for good behavior."

Another jump cut and now she is standing holding a greater bird of paradise, the bird preening his feathers as he perched on her arm.

"This is Tico, the greater bird of paradise. He is about 3 years old, and loves being in the spotlight. I got him after he was injured in his habitat by some logging crew after he refused to leave. Since being brought to me, he has recovered fully but now thinks I am his mate and consistently performs a display to hopefully get me to accept his proposal."

She visibly sweatdrops as she mentions this before the scene changes to her opening the door to another dome, this one lacking very many trees and instead having tall Savannah grass. As soon as she closes the door, a pair of wings can be heard getting closer, and the moment she turns around, a large African crowned crane is standing in front of her.

"Oh! Hello Majesty, heheh. This is Majesty, my African crowned crane. She was gifted to me by a local zoo after she got involved in a pretty bad spat between her and another of their female cranes. She enjoys attention and pretty much demands the focus be on her at all times, and there has been one or two incidents of her pecking at someone who didnt give her the attention she wanted. Because of this, I rarely have her pose for photos, although she loves having her picture taken."

The scene cuts and now she has the camera pointed to a secretary bird, standing tall with his head feathers moving in the slight breeze. He steps toward the camera and pecks at it before Sarah moves the camera away, laughing softly,

"This is Jaques, my Male secretary bird. He has a habit of pecking at anything he can get his beak on, Haha. Despite that though, hes much more behaved than Majesty and thus I have more pictures of him. He tends to stand on people's shoulders if I have them crouch next to him. He was also given to me by a zoo as they needed more space for different animals they had received and had no where to put him. He enjoys being scratched under the beak and that's usually what he's asking for if he shoves his head in your hand."

The camera cuts again to show Sarah holding a large bearded vulture on her arm. He has bright orange pigment in his feathers.

"This is Steve, my bearded vulture, or lammergeier. Their diet is primarily bones, and they put pigment in their feathers to make them more intimidating. Steve prefers to be left alone and thus keeps to himself when I'm not around. I've had him for about 3 years now, after being injured by a trap someone had set. These fierce birds are captured and poisoned in acts of illegal persecution, and seldom make it out before the person who trapped them comes back to check their traps. And that's all of my personal avians!"

The view changes to being inside a fairly spacious room with terrariums lining the walls. She walks over to the closest one, opening it to show an African fat tailed gecko, carefully reaching her hand inside for the small reptile to crawl into her hand.

"This is Kiwi, my African fat tailed gecko. She's very friendly and her favorite place to sit is on people shoulders or head so she can get a good look around. Kiwi is an oreo morph, one of the rarer ones as this morph type is recessive. She likes to lick things and it feels very ticklish when she does, heheh. I've had her for about 2 years, and I got her for my birthday."

Placing Kiwi back into her tank, she moved down to another one, opening it and carefully removing a piebald python. The snake immediately slithered itself up to rest around her neck, causing Sarah to flip the camera view.

"This is Cookie, my piebald ball python, shes about 3 years old and was probably the best Christmas present I ever received! She enjoys curling around people's necks and she's extremely photogenic, she poses in just about every picture I've ever taken of her. And given how comfortable she is around my neck right now, I think itd be best if she stays there for the rest of the video."

There's a cut and the camera focuses on a black salamander with yellow spots, leisurely resting in a small pool of water.

"This is Mino, my black and yellow spotted salamander. I got him from my college professor who told me she couldnt take care of him anymore because of her new apartment having a strict no pets policy. He prefers to stay in his tank and it's best to not handle him because the oils from human hands could hurt him very badly. So most of the photos I have of him are of him in his tank."

The scene changes to show a large tarantula crawling on her hand. Sarah whispers softly into the microphone to avoid startling the arachnid,

"This is Luna, my rose haired tarantula. She is one of my oldest pets, being 13 years old. I've had her since I was in highschool and she's been with me through pretty much everything. She's very docile and is very okay with being handled but since she's so special to me I only let her take pictures with those I know personally."

Coming up to the last few minutes of the video, the camera shows two ferrets, a cat, and two dogs, playing next to a couch. Of the two ferrets, one is a dark eyed solid white and the other has a standard sable coat, and they seem to be playfully fighting over a toilet paper tube. The cat is a ragdoll and is leisurely resting in a patch of sun coming from the window. The smallest of. the two dogs is a pomsky, the larger being a albernese mountain dog.

"To end my video, I'm going to introduce you all to my five mammalian pets, Jinx and Greg the ferrets, Maria the ragdoll, Skye the pomsky and Kiba the albernese mountain dog. Out of the five, Maria is the oldest at 10 years old, Kiba coming in second at 5 years old. Jinx and Greg came from the same litter, both being 3 years old, Greg being the runt. And Skye is the youngest at 2 years old! I got all of them from reliable breeders and I cherish all of them dearly. And that concludes all my personal pets! Thank you for tuning in, see you next time!"

The video ends with a slideshow of various pictures of the animals with various people.

[magicalsalamander]

Aurelius Part 5

Pairing: BTS Namjoon  ⇆ Reader

Genre: Werewolf | Fluff | Angst | Smut [later] |

Summary: When the daughter of the secretary for the Minister for Wolf and Canine relations is the last living member of her clan, she must find a way to avenge her family. She must find a way to put an end to the hunters whose sole purpose is to cleanse the world of werewolves. The golden one hasn’t forgotten. Will she be able to get the revenge she needs?

Words: 8.7 K

Warnings: Rated Mature; explicit themes.

A/N:  Orig post: 08|09| 2018; Updated intro 12|12|19. Part of the KLF Universe.

⇽ Prev | Masterlist | Next [Final]⇾

The brown, matted fur tapped against his calves, thick water droplets dripped off the split ends of his pelt cloak. It puddled behind him as he took powerful steps forward. His whistling echoed in the empty hallway, soft like sing-song birds chirping, to the tune of twisted nerve. He had a pep in his step with each change in his tone and tempo. He ran his trembling, bandaged hand through his hair shucking the stringy fringe out of his eyes. The pitch kept inclining reaching a near chord ripping pitch as he approached the iron cage prison door. The bottom bars were rusted, as it feed off the water that pooled around the door. He gripped the coarse edge of the handle and dramatically unjammed it out its lock.

The clanking of the heavy bars sliding across eachother shook the walls rattling the heavy, industrial chains that were attached from the ceiling to handcuffs on my wrist. The feet of chain kept me in a grid lock kneeling position as my body was kept taunt. The rope methodically tied around my thighs and calves secured me into place; the twine dug into old scars over my pants as it burned with the small movements. The Hunter about to throw another punch my way skidded to a stop and stepped back greeted the person with a ceremonial shout. I coughed recovering from the last infliction and lifted my head to the newest visitor. My shoulders ached from being held in an over arm tie for who knows how long. Everything hurt...so much, it hurt so much.

The dull, cobblestone walls echoed the sound of his boots treading through water that was still dripping from my figure. I looked up at the man who brought me here, Jared, and growled. He chuckled waving his beaten hand at me, purposely pausing with an all too happy tone, “Only got me a bit baby girl, but look at you, all tied up. Weren’t you warned to not mess with the Hunters?”

I didn’t give him the satisfaction knowing that my kind feared the name. I didn’t want to give him that hand over me, us. I’d bite his hand a thousand times over, even if I ended up in the same position, before I gave him that satisfaction. I remained smug and just stared at him.

He grew frustrated with the lack of a reaction, “Do you not know of the HUNTERS!” He enunciated each syllable, finishing with scream until the veins in his neck turned purple. When I didn’t answer him still he paced around the room, turning his back to me until he snapped and lunged at me. His eyes were that of a savage Neanderthal as he repeatedly kicking me. My knees scrapped against the flooring as I swung back but I came back like a boomerang because of the chains on the force of his kicks. The wind was knocked out of my lungs and I grunted trying to breathe again, his steel toe boots were like a knife jabbing into my ribs. I suppressed the grunts and whines the best I could, trying to prolong the effect of pain as long as possible.

The sweat dripping down my temple mixed with the water dripping beneath me. I spat a mix of saliva and blood at him, “I only know murderers and savages that go by that name.”

He grabbed my hair forcing my head back so I looked directly into his lunatic eyes. He jerked my head to the side as he looked for something on my neck. He shifted my head to the other side to observe my collarbone, my pathetic clothing wasn’t concealing much, or anything thing at all. “The bitch doesn’t have a mate, there’s no claim marking. She’s all alone. Oh, how sad puppy, you we’re out there all alone. A rogue no one cares about if she were to disappear. A waste of space.” He roughly let go of my head tossing me out of his grip.

My head bobbed down, dizziness settled in or catching up from holding my breath. I looked down at the floor. Something I didn’t think he could physically hit, but he tore into it and left it raw and bare in front of me. My heart. Namjoon. We weren’t bonded, and I left the Kim family behind me. I really was alone.

In the reflection in a puddle underneath me I saw someone in the background walk across the room. I swallowed back the taste of iron, clearing my clouded sense of smell. I picked up the pungent smell of death that I hadn’t noticed earlier, yet the life energy that was attached to it was familiar. My eyes followed and narrowed at the man who was torturing me before the other caveman came in. He stopped and stood over the out of place table, his broad back was facing me. The pelt that I felt a connection to hung over his shoulders was old, yet the man at the table was an overgrown teenager at most.

Jared caught on that I was staring at the man at the table. “We got a special treat for you.”

The kid turned around, so I could watch him slide the syringe into the vial, pulling up the thick black liquid. He handed the syringe to Jared, and he held it up to the single flood light, flicking it with his index. “This solution here, it’s going to force you to shift. We’re going to skin you and I’ll carry your pelt around on my shoulders along with the rest of my collection.” Once he was satisfied with his taunting he looked at me smiling whole heartedly, “Surprise.”

His menacing eyes locked on my neck as he stepped towards me, the other four men in the room circled around him to watch the spectacle. I jerked back, the ropes dug into my legs and the chain whipped above me as I fought to move away, “No, don’t! Don’t do it, don’t do this! NOOOOO—AHHH!”

Namjoon stumbled on the uneven ground, the fight between the human side and the wolf was pulling his energy in all different directions. His eyes opaque in glitching obsidian as he was fought off the shift. He needed to go after Aure. He needed to bring back his mate. Fur grew at his knuckles and along his spine, his nails elongated with his fangs into a non-fictional, medieval version of a werewolf. He clumsily sprinted after Aure, groans and pleads of her name fell past his bloody lips, “Aure!”  

The bonsho was tolling, his internal roaring sounding at the gate of the underworld. He could see Aure’s figure in blips in front of him, “Aure! Come back!” The trees were rustling about him and his sensitive ears were ringing at the amount of sounds that were becoming overwhelming. He kept moving forward without paying attention, just relying on his wolf to follow the scent of his mate. His foot caught on dead roots that snaked unevenly from its dead stump and he crashed, skidding along the dry soil until he hit a solid tree. His pants caught on in his downfall ripping as he was yanked forward by his beastly momentum. He growled at himself, he knew he was being reckless, but he didn’t care what happened to him. He hunched on all fours, his spine curled like a lycanthrope, yet still man and continued running.

Namjoon couldn’t see her anymore, his heart was banging continuously to those at whatever gate asking them to hear his pleas. He doesn’t want to lose her, his mate, his everything. He shouldn’t have cupped his hands around the frightened bird in his hands. He should have opened his hands, but by closing his hands thinking he was protecting her he realized it was like magic trick and she disappeared when he was too late.

The broken edges of the shrubbery and stray branches scratched against his face, but he kept running forward. The fog was picking up as he approached the hurtling river, the constant sound of unsettled water was deafening. Fog swirled like a tornado around his limbs as he raced like a bullet. He pushed through shrubbery and ended up at an empty shoreline. Namjoon skidded to a stop at the edge of the water. Why did his wolf lead him here? He looked around sniffling insistently, but her scent “ended” here. In fact, it was dancing everywhere along the water, but it was localized here. Her scent was mixing in with the layer of fog and moisture in the air.

Namjoon couldn’t feel her presence nearby. He sloshed and dove forth into the water when he couldn’t find her on the shore. What if she was in the water? What if she went down the river? What…if she drowned? The fog was messing with his senses and emotions; the lucid scent was making him angry. He thrashed in the water when he kept turning up empty. He was growing restless. He fell to his knees and let his head fall back in a roar, his tears were mixing in with the fresh water below.

The daughter had been found, but she slipped through his fingers. It was all his fault.

He trudged back to the edge of the shore and lunged at the first tree within his line of sight. He balled up his fist and let it swing with all his strength. The tree splintered upon impact, denting as his fist repeatedly met the warping wood. Wood chips fell at his feet and he didn’t stop until the tree physically began tipping over and broke. He panted heavily the fur around his knuckles and skin tore open. He rested his head against the broken stump, “What do I do? What am I supposed to do!” What would Mama Luna tell him when he comes home without Aure. He couldn’t come home without Aure, it wasn’t home…it wouldn’t be home without her anymore. What would his father say…what would his pack say? An Alpha never gives up, he’s been raised to never give up.

His nose tingled again, that sweetness, her scent wafted strongly from the river. He whipped around, his eyes searching for her, but it still looked the same. He stumbled forth, feet curving around the rocks on the shore. He searched on the floor for the strong source of her scent. His eyes caught onto the gentle flowing of a white cloth stuck to a branch jammed between rocks. He immediately grabbed it and brought it up to his nose. It was a piece of her shirt. His eyes filtered red, he couldn’t give up, “I’m not giving up. I’m not ever giving up on you Aure.”

However, finding her was something he couldn’t do alone, he needed his pack.

He let the shift take over, chomping down on the piece of clothing in his mouth and ran back towards the pack house. He ran faster than he had ever ran in his life, pushing the beast to its limits to cut any more losses in time.

He saw the lights from the outside porch flicker between the trees. He howled from the depth of his bowels. He howled in alarm until he reached the edge of the forest and the lights in almost every window turned on. He stood in the center of the field, shifting back into his human form, he tore off his shirt since it hung in shreds at his waist in ruins. His panted as the back door opened and members of the pack poured out. Eleven, tall, muscular men stood at attention in front of the of worried lot in formation. His father found way through the crowd, “Move! Son! Son, what’s wrong?”

Mama Luna stepped up her white mumu dress, “I don’t see Aure. Where is—Where’s Aure?”

He turned his face away in shame from his grandmother, “I-I…lost her. I—We need to get her back. I need help getting her back!” He held up the tattered piece of her shirt to show everyone.

Aviva gasped and stepped forward taking the piece of fabric, she choked on tears and turned to Mama Luna, “It-it’s Aure’s. This is the shirt I gave her.” She ran into Mama Luna’s open embrace, crying into her shoulder. Even Seojun, who stood amongst the eleven, face dipped in despair like the rest. They had all grown close to her in some form or respected her at least. They all felt the sense of lost.

Alpha Kim voice grew stern, “What happened?”

Namjoon looked around at the faces of his cousins, their mates, grandmother, and his father. “It doesn’t matter. Right now, we need to find her. We need to send patrols out and contact the other packs if she is in their borders. The last place I saw her was at the river, her scent fades out there. We need to move now!”

Alpha Kim turned to the pack, “You heard your Alpha, divide up and move out! Keep the line of communication open!”

Without hesitation the wolves began stripping of their clothing and shifted, striking up secondary formation. They ritually howled to the moon, asking the Moon goddess to look over them and bless them with safe travels and…to protect their Luna.

Namjoon turned back to the forest, the moon making the crystalizing sweat on his broad chest glimmer. He had his eyes focused on a single goal, he was to lead, he had to find his Luna. He had to bring Aure back, “Aure, I’m coming.”

The sliding glass door slammed open a panting, half-awake mate called out, “Wait! Alpha Kim, the phone…it’s the Hunters”

The piece of fabric that was being treasured in Aviva’s hand slipped through her fingers and fluttered down onto the grass.

The Hunters.

“NOOO!” Jared snapped his bandaged hand around my neck, encasing his soft fingers around my throat. He tightened his grip until I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t protest. The glint in his eye was swirling cynically as he overpowered me. He readjusted his fingers around the syringe so his thumb was on the depressor ready for injection. He raised his fist to plummet the syringe in my neck, “Say goodbye.”

I closed my eyes, breathing in my last breath and I used it to hum the song that brought me comfort.

The metal cage door fiercely slammed open rattling the cobblestone, “Jared! Put that down and let her go!” The grip around my throat loosened as Jared stood up right at the commanding voice to address the newcomer. The other four behind us suddenly bowed deeply bringing a hand across their chest, tapping it to stand up again and in sync shouted, “AWOO!”

I coughed and greedily sucking in air, catching my breath again.

“You fuckin’ leave the house, your daughter and wife, for this!” The husky voice screamed at the barbaric animal.

My eyes nearly exploded, I looked up and sought out the voice directly of…Papa’s. He looked nothing like the sweet old man sitting on the couch with his granddaughter. Anger rolled off his figure like tar and he looked like he just climbed out bed.

Jared yelled back at his father, “Pops, this won’t take long. This bitch was out on her own. She’s nothing more than a disgusting dog, why do you care so much?”

Two more people came into the room following Papa like a cabinet. The first thing that caught my eye was the huge blade hanging in the holster on one of the Hunter’s hip. I narrowed my eyes, the shape of it was obnoxious, he was obviously compensating for something. The same man noticed me staring and walked over to me like a child walking up to a candy store. While the others were distracted he whispered to me, “Oh, little puppy are you scared?”

I cringed, all my hair stood at attention as his words echo in my mind reawakening a suppressed face, a suppressed fear. I remembered exactly who this man was, what that knife had done to me. He was the one who cut me, marked me with the H and poured the boiling water over my back. He was the physical embodiment of my scars.

I heard the unsheathing of his knife from the holster as the blade scratched the leather. He squatted down behind me, his warm breath tickling my ear as he crudely chuckled. I held myself stable despite my gut churning in nausea. He ran a finger down my spine as he continued to whisper, “Such a pretty puppy.” I growled deep in my chest violently jerking away from him. Anger flashed over him, “Behave bitch!” He grabbed at my already forsaken shirt and ripped it leaving my back exposed. The group turned towards us, Papa’s eyes widened as our eyes met for the first time. I kept my lips tight as I stared at him, never breaking eye contact. There was that look again that I saw in Nana’s eyes, but I was still unwavered. The man behind me whistled, “Well I’ll be damned pretty pup, you got a mangled up back. I mean look at these knife…marks—.” He paused tilting his head, he then rounded about me to my front and ripped one the ties around my thigh and tore open my pants until it was bare flesh. I still kept my eyes locked on Papa’s as he watched what this monster was doing. “Holy shit! That’s…my signature. I know my H when I see one…You?” He looked up to my stoic face studying it intently, my eyes glimmer rich rose gold back at him. He huffed in disbelief, “Why didn’t I see it sooner. I remember those eyes. Just like your fathers, wow, just wow, you’re alive!”

He stood up and yanked the pelt off the young man and tossed it at my feet, “Say hello to your pops.” My eyes broke from Papa’s and stared at the pelt before me partially in the water. I felt tears brimming in my eyes, how cruel, how cruel could these people get? He chuckled noticing my distraught disposition. He crouched before me again, stepping on the pelt with his muddy boots, “You’re going to be joining him soon.”

That was the straw that broke the camels back. How dare they desecrate the body of my father! How dare they treat me like this! I lunged forth, my lower half no longer restrained and sunk my fangs into his bicep and dug in deep until I was sure my teeth clanked against bone. The room was filled with deafening screams. I was ripped off him in an instant, the teen was screaming, “Dad!”

I spit out the man’s tainted blood at his face. The man retaliated by lunged at me punching me like I was a rag doll. The pain was instant as he swung right across my face, then my chest and residual areas he felt were neglected. He spat drool in my face as if he was a snake spitting venom, “Daughter like father.”

I laughed. He’s right. I’m like my father, a fighter. I won’t give up, especially not in his presence.

The son pulled his father back away from me. I must’ve hit a major artery and the man was paling fast as I watched him being drug out. They rushed out of the room whining like piglets; nearly everyone filtered out of the room to help except for Papa, Jared and two hunters. I was far worse off, but the wolf in me made me stronger than these pathetic people who claimed themselves humans.

Funny how the giants fall when they step on rose thorns.

Papa rushed towards me, done with this petty game, but the remaining Hunters held him back upon a single finger raise command from Jared. The game just became more interesting for Jared.

Jared cooed, “You’ve grown soft old man. You’ve already taken this bitch’s father. What’s stopping us from taking her life too? She should die.”

Papa roughly jerked out of the low-level Hunters grasps and came toe to toe with his son, “Don’t you dare speak to me that way. You know I didn’t send that command, I did not kill them, I didn’t want any of this, whatever the Hunters have become. That traitor who’s in line now, he destroyed the name of the Hunters. We Hunters are the peace keepers of the supernatural, not murders.”

I whipped my head up, mouth going dry. The man who…

Jared scoffed, “Your weak politics made us weak, no one respected us because of you! You bring shame to The Hunters.”

 Papa tried, “No, Jared, you have it wrong. You don’t have to do this. Think for yourself!”

Jared commanded the room turning away from his father to face me, “Chain him up too.”

Papa’s eyes narrowed, the look of betrayal crossed his eyes at his own flesh and blood. A look I knew very well. The two Hunters grabbed Papa again, but Papa struck back like lightening. He raised his elbow and smashed it against a guy’s temple, knocking him out cold. The other Hunter released Papa and rushed over to Jared in attempt to protect his superior. Papa pulled out a pistol from his back pocket and pointed it at them. “The both of you are going to walk out of this room and leave like nothing ever happened. Are we clear?”

Jared sneered, “Put the gun down old man. Don’t disappoint Mom, Pops.”

Papa without blinking his eyes angled the gun at the hooligan’s foot and shot. My ears rung and body deathly rigor as the bang ricocheted off the walls. I came back to my senses when I noticed Jared didn’t sneer back, he was losing his machoism as his father pointed the gun directly at him. Papa spoke softly, “Go tell that Head Hunter of yours that you love and respect so much, that I’m not letting this shit pass. Go whine to him, because you ain’t my son.”

When the man that had his foot shot off starts drooling and panting through his slobbering lips Jared looked over to me, “This isn’t over. I’m not done with you yet.”

The two of them limped out of the room, leaving me alone with Papa. He kept the gun facing the door until the footsteps were far enough. My heart was racing realizing we were alone. The words from earlier that were almost in passing coming back like a cement truck. Papa was the leader of the Hunters. I squirmed in my spot, the chains above me rattling, despite the pain that radiated throughout my body as I moved. I’m finally feeling the effects of the abuse on my body. I whined as I squirm away from Papa, I put my knees over my father’s pelt and dragged it with me.

Papa spoke softly, “Aure, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you…never again. I should have never hurt you. I did it to protect you. I know I’m asking a lot but trust me here…yank down on the chain.”

I stuttered, “What?”

He pointed his eyes and raised the gun up again and I yanked my hands towards me, obeying immediately. He aimed gun and shot at the chain three times. I flinched at the ugly sounds and the chain snapped. My cuffed hands fell into my lap. My hands were free but the cuffs still hung around my wrist with a chain link fringes. My nerves lit up as blood was rushing back into my limbs. He walked over to me, pocketing his gun and helped me up. I groaned and whined when he touched bruising flesh and my legs burned from kneeling so long. He murmured, “Whoa there, its going to be okay kiddo, I got you.”

He adjusted my clothing and brushed the hair out of my face, “Aure, look, there’s so much I should say to you, but we gotta get you out of here. I’ll take you home. I’m not good with this whole comforting thing, but Nana can take care of that.”

I pulled out of his embrace finding my footing, “No, I won’t go with you back there. I found a pack. I have…a family.”

“Oh,” he nodded in understanding. “I’ll bring you to there then, I’ll take you home.” There was an awkward pause, unspoken words hanging in the air, “Come on, let’s go.”

He took my hand, but I stopped him, “Not without my father.”

He nodded and let me stumble over to pick up my father’s pelt. We walked out of the room into the hallway, the cobblestone theme still continued out here. He pulled me along to follow him, I grunted at his surprisingly fast pace. It was hard to keep up when my ribs were edging at me. “Come on Aure, we’re almost there.” We turned around a corner and a brigade of men blocked off the hallway.

“Will, you look who it is! The dishonorable Ex-Head Hunter, Sir you’ve come back to visit…and you have a prisoner with you.” A tall man with numerous pelts hanging off his shoulders like a coat rack stood at the center. Jared stood directly behind the man, he really did tattle tale on his father.

God, the smell of death was overwhelming.

“Stand down Head Hunter, you will let me pass by.” Papa stood in front of me slightly.

The man chuckled, “Oh you will pass by, but not with her.” The man pointed to me. Papa’s hand tightened around mine.

“No.” Papa voice was firm. He may be old, but the vigor was still there in him.

“Suit yourself.” The men started inching forward. I looked behind us, and the wall of people started closing in. I looked at Papa and underneath his stoic face I could smell the fear. I had to think fast. If I shifted I would be better off, my wounds would hold up better and I’d be able to fight off some of these guys. We were being corner, I whispered to Papa, “I’m going to shift and take theses guys on, I’m going to mow forward. I need you to defend me, can you handle some of these guys?”

He harshly whispered back, “No, you’re too injured as is, I’m going to shot and they should back off. You can escape.”

I nearly rolled my eyes, I’m not letting history repeat itself, “Look, we need to save all the bullets we can. I’m going to shift, and I need you to trust me.” I knew these people were strong…in numbers, but if I cut them down that would give us an upper hand. I had my eyes locked on the Head hunter. I tightened the strings of the pelt around my shoulders and counted down, “3…2…1!” I couldn’t let myself be taken so easily.

I let the shift take over, the chains followed me still and weighed heavy around my wrist. I ran straight for the five men lined like a brigade at the other end. I crashed into the other end and whipped my chains around striking anyone it would land on. The odds were hopeless, but my chain was able to reach farther than my limbs. I took out two in one swing. I heard gunshots from behind me as Papa manned the other end. When I found an opening, I barked back to Papa.

“They’re getting away!” One of the men shouted in our direction.

I wasn’t large, but I could support Papa’s weight. I crouched down and tugged on his shirt. We could get away faster this way. He understood and got on and held on tight. I sprinted, an abused chain clanked against the floor and broke off serving its purpose. He gave me directions to turn at different corners, the Hunters were hot on our trail. We made it out through a back entryway, I noticed we were somewhere in the woods. None of the trees or scents from the area around me were familiar.

Papa’s truck was parked not too far off, he shouted, “Get to the truck!” I sprinted off towards the vehicle, but just before we made it gun shot rung out. I halted to a stop as the tires whined as the wheels depressurized. My fear was rekindled tenfold, my body shouting at itself move, move, please move! Papa pointed ahead, “Keep going Aure!” I kept sprinting into the tree line, even if his weight was starting to become heavy I kept going. We had to get away.

“Moon goddess, if you are real, please, let us get away.” I chanted to myself to distract myself from the demons behind me. Twigs and unkept shrubbery broke underneath me as I raced past through the fog. I could hear my heart in my ears and Papa’s panting grunts whenever I hit bumpy terrain. The shouts were still very near. Hunters were emerging and keeping up besides us. I changing up our direction each time I’d catch someone in my peripheral.  

I whimpered as I heard the whizzing of arrows overhead; the sound was more unnerving than the actual devices. I tried flattening, but that only slowed me down as the arrows zinged by. I heard Papa grunt and withhold a scream before I notice an arrow flying overhead and log itself into a tree. His grip tightens around my mane. I was terrified of what was to come if I did slow. I made a split-second decision and picked up speed, the worse thing to do would be to stop.

I came to a clearing and the Hunters were already standing at the other end. It was like I was being funneled here, I never escaped I played right into their hands. I veered to a stop, snarling as I realized I was surrounded. I angled my body in such a way that Papa would be the best covered from any attacks.

The head hunter stepped out of the crowd of at least twenty individuals. He loaded his gun with purple bullets and cocked it back, “Enough, it’s over pup. There’s nowhere left to run. Let’s put you out of your misery.”

He hiked up the gun onto his shoulder and readied the trigger. I waited for the shot, but it never came. I hesitantly opened my eyes as the Head Hunter lowered the gun, then I felt it—them. In my hazy state of mind, I felt their presence tingling in my bones.

Massive silhouettes emerged from the rolling fog and wild, red eyes reflected at me. I could recognize those eyes anywhere, they belonged to Namjoon. The big wolves took light with Namjoon in the center as the number of wolves seemed to go infinitely in triangle formation from him, the epicenter. Alpha Kim was to his right, equally as large, and daunting. The two shifted into their human forms, but the feral look was still in their eyes. Namjoon whispered my name, but my sensitive ears caught it as we stared back at eachother.

Namjoon wanted to run to me, but he knew any sudden moves could mean an end. He looked me over for the briefest second and anger filled him seeing the bruises, the wet blood and the chain around my wrist. He looked at the sardonic man with contempt, but that word was too light for the weight that Namjoon felt. The guy was now in his terrain, these woods were his, and he was going to show them it was rightfully so.

I remained still in this no man land between the two clans.

Namjoon growled, the hair on his back raised, “You!”

The Head Hunter laughed, “Such eloquent words from you Namjoon.”

Alpha Kim tried to reason, “You have taken and hurt one of our own, a Luna at that. You’ve broken constitutional law Head Hunter.”

Head Hunter bellowed in laughter, “Fuck the law! Fuck the Charter! The law oppressed us and belittled us, why should I respect it. I’m done and tired of dealing with you filthy dogs and your law-abiding ways. I’m glad you’ve finally shown up, now you can collect her after were done, if you live that is. Watch me end you all here tonight! Hunters, AWOOOO!!”

The Head Hunter raised his gun to me again, “I’m starting with this one.”

The whole pack howled as Namjoon shifted back with a sickening fast cracking and adjusting of bone that carried a near heathen roar. How dare he try to harm his mate!! His massive figure sprinted forth, snarling, drool slipping from him gums. He jumped over Papa and I, eclipsing the Moon above, and crashed into the enemy. Furious that someone had hurt his mate, someone had dared to hurt me!

I was reminded of the rumors of the strength and ferocity of the Kim family. Why they were the leaders of the packs of this Nation. The war had begun, a perfect pandemonium.

It all was so sudden, blurs of furs and men tumbled together. I saw jaws of men and beast alike snapping at one another. I sprinted out of the eye of the storm, I had to get Papa out of the way and somewhere safe. I dodged strikes and blows until I could see a safe spot. I crouched down to let Papa off, setting him against a wide tree. I knew despite the strength he showed, he was at his maximum. He truly put himself on the line—for me. I nudged him with my muzzle when I noticed his eyes drooping. I didn’t want him to fall asleep on me. Papa looked at me, truly looked at me for the first time, the scars, patches, all of it. He reached up and scratched my head lovingly. He hissed when he hyperextended his injured shoulder to pet me. When he pulled his hand back it was covered in my wet blood. I whimpered at the reality. The gentle moment was fleeting, reminding me that in fact, everything wasn’t alright.

I heard panting behind us and I whipped around to look at the person that had followed us. Jared stood there with his hunter knife out in his bandaged hand, “I told you I’d be back.”

I limped into guarding position over Papa. Jared continued to slowly step towards us, so I pulled at the strings and untightened the knot of my father’s pelt cloak and let it settle over Papa’s lap. I stepped forward the cold night air hitting my patchy pelt, but my body was running like a furnace as it was healing itself. I tucked my tail between my legs and showed my fangs in a snarl. I didn’t want to fight. Papa coughed, “Jared. Stop, just stop!”

Jared screamed, “Stay out of this old man!”

Jared pulled out a vial of wolfsbane and doused his knife in it. It dripped off the sharp edge like syrup. It felt like I was watching it in slow motion as the thick globs rolled off in oversaturation. My pupils dilated in fear, he really wasn’t going to stop for anything until he got what he wanted. My hearing rung out and I heard the voice in the back of my head again, “Trust me Aure, let me help you. I need you to believe in the Moon. Believe in her.” I shook my head, but the words kept ringing louder and louder, “Believe! You have to believe!”

I closed my eyes succumbing to the assured comforting voice, and I hummed the song again. I let myself believe. When I opened my eyes again Jared faltered in his aggressive steps. My eyes were burning a near cooper, my body felt lighter, I felt like I was walking on moonlight. There was no fear, no irreconcilable smirk on my muzzle. I am a Luna.

 He twirled the knife around in his hand before he sprinted for me. I jumped for it, letting him crash into a tree. I had no intention of killing him, that is not who I am. I am not a murder, I’m not them. There is no pleasure in pain of others suffering. I let him glide about me, I wanted to wear him out and conserve my energy. After a few minutes he was panting and slashing his knife about in desperation and I hadn’t even lifted a paw yet. I allowed him to get close, and I used my shoulder to knock him against a tree. He tried taking jabs at my throat, screaming in my face.  He was sweating profusely, his bandage hand was red, but he didn’t stop charging at me with his jaw wide open. I didn’t anticipate his two step my chain swing coming up short and he chomped down hard on my ear. I howled and knocked my thick skull against his inebriating him senseless. He stumbled, and I took the chance pinned him to the ground.

 His back ached from the harsh impact, his arms no longer felt taunt as they should, while his lower half became unresponsive from overuse. He still waved the knife at me splattering his face in specks of purple poison, but I knocked it out of his hand and the blade sunk down into the ground by his temple. He jerked about for his knife, growling at me in frustration. He arched his neck and bit onto the blade of the knife and tugged it out of the ground. His tongue refused the taste of wolfsbane as he bit on his knife and spit up letting the drool roll down his cheeks.

I loomed over his body growling him into submission. I needed him to submit. I wasn’t going to hurt him.

Papa choked, “Jared, please!” It broke my heart hearing the weak strain in Papa’s voice.

Jared kept growling back at me, unwilling to give up, unwilling to see that he was only hurting himself. I leaned down eye to eye, tooth to tooth and growled back. He kept going until his voice was thinning out. I pulled back and smashed my forehead against his temple knocking him out cold. I made sure I didn’t hurt him too much and I bit onto his shirt and dragged him near his father.

I felt a sudden rush of deep set anger and I knew that wasn’t from me, it was Namjoon. It was as if the mere thought of Namjoon summoned him as my eyes instantly attached to him and Alpha Kim fighting off a heap of men. Namjoon was head to toe with the Head Hunter. The ferocity emitting from him in that frozen second of a standoff was numbing before they were back at eachothers throats. Namjoon dodged the edge of the sword in one fluid motion. The enemy swerved with an immediate counter attack. The Head Hunters eyes were menacing, hooded with anger, rage, making his features undistinguishably to a human. He raised his sword and the clash of steel with the soil blanketed Joon in a wave of dust. The force of the strength of the plunge vibration resonated even reached my ears. It was unfair, four extra sets of hands tried to seize Namjoon as they all cave into him like ants.

I lunged forward, unthinking of the consequences, jumping into the heart of it all. I jumped onto the back of a Hunter and the guy shouted, “What the hell!” I let my body fall backwards and his body came tumbling with as I barrel rolled and flung him off with my hind legs. The thud that followed rewarded me with groans and no movement. I had the decency to feel guilty. I moved on to the next, determined to help as much as I could, even if my instincts were telling me to flee.

I heard the sick sound of flesh ripping. I felt like I was gutted when the howl echoed in my ears. I turned around, my eyes set on a single being as I channeled the Moon one last time. With my jaw open and pushed the Head Hunter off Namjoon.

I knocked the knife out of his hand and we both tumbled through the fog. He crawled back onto all fours and landed punches across me as I nipped at him. I was losing energy fast. My head was hurting unbearably as I couldn’t keep up with his vicious fist. He stood up picking up his sword and laughed when I struggled to get back up, my muscles were beyond exhausted, “Not so strong now are you!”

I heavily panted, my body shifted back into my human form without any effort. I was panting as the Head Hunter stood above me. I crossed my arm over my chest as my clothing barely covering anything. “I don’t always need strength to win,” with my free hand I clenched my fist and scooped up the soil and pelted it at him. I took the window and attempted to swipe the knife out of his hand using the chain as an extension. I miscalculated the distance between us and he wrapped his hand around my waist tightly and slammed my back against his front. The syrupy blade was brought to my neck and everyone around us stopped.

Namjoon stumbled into our radius, the cut from his knife wasn’t deep but the wolfsbane left a sting. He barked ready to throw away the moral half of himself and let the nasty rumors come to life. The Head Hunter brought the knife closer to my throat in threat. His stomach was swimming as he saw the amount of blood caked and dried on different places of my body. The swelling and bruising on the different parts of my body.

Yet, I still decided to stand tall. I swallowed hard feeling the realistic threat as it chipped away at the peach fuzz on my neck. I whined out, “N-Namjoon, just do it.”

The Head Hunter tightened his grip around my waist, “Cry out, it’ll make it all the more sweeter.” Namjoon’s eyes widened as the fog settled and he saw Papa standing behind the Head Hunter with one arm holding his bleeding shoulder, the pelt hanging over his shoulder while his other hand had a gun raised and shot without hesitation.

The world seemed to quite in that second, Papa mocked, “Like taking candy from a baby.”

The Head Hunter jolted with the incredible force, screaming as he let go of me to save himself. I stumbled forth and collapsed onto my knees. Namjoon shifted and ran up to me collecting me in his arms pulling away me at a safer distance. Alpha Kim lunged forth and yelled out commands, “Detain him, don’t let anyone escape!”

The Hunters who once seemed valiant for their caused backed away, their leader had fallen. The other members of the pack circled around them and they all backed themselves into a tight circle.

Namjoon trembling hands cupped my dirty face as tears streamed down his face, “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry for the way I reacted. I didn’t mean any of it. It wasn’t about you. It was—God, I’m so glad I found you.” His lips settled between my brows as he murmured his apologizes and he peppered kisses after each sentence.

I pulled away from him taking his cheeks between my palms, “Namjoon, it’s okay, I’m sorry too.”

I pulled away when I heard someone collapse to the floor, “Papa!” I rushed over to Papa settled his head in my lap keep his head elevated. He needed treatment and soon. “Namjoon, please, we need to help him.”

Namjoon looked over his shoulder, no questions asked, “You three take him to the pack house, one of you run ahead and warn Mama Luna that more will be arriving.”

I brushed the hair out of his face, “They’re going to take care of you Papa, I promise.”

He smiled lazily at me, “I never got to tell you this, but I’m really happy that I had you for a daughter. I’m just an old fool.”

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, “Don’t say things like that. I’ll see you soon. I have to hear Nana scold you.”

He laughed and winced at the pain. He handed me back the pelt with a squeeze of his hand over mine, “He’d be so proud of you.”

The members were gentle as they picked him up and took him away. Seojun smiled at me, his face was bruising and scratched, “Don’t worry Luna, we’ll take care of him.”

Namjoon squatted down and with little to no effort broke the chain around my wrist and helped me off the ground. My weak legs were unstable, the amount of pain I was in was beginning to feel unrealistic. But being surrounded by the scent and feeling of him again stated something deeper in me. He was here. He came to save me.

“What do we do now Alpha?” One of the members called out to Namjoon, although he expected his father to respond, the Alpha was looking to him to answer. Namjoon and I stood in front of the pack, everyone was alive standing proud, he turned to address them, “The injured will also be escorted back with someone. I want the stronger one’s half in front and in the back. Get back safe, that is my priority. Everyone fought well, the police will deal with the rest of them. Let’s move.”

The Head Hunter was manhandled as he was jerked to his feet and forced to walk behind Alpha Kim.

Namjoon pulled me closer, his gaze softened as adoration filled his teary eyes. It was indescribable the way my heart sang. The way my wolf was singing in delight. He leaned down and pressed his chapped lips against mine for a brief chaste kiss. He rested his forehead against mine, “Y/N, Aure, I’m never letting go. Never.” I nodded and whined when he caressed my temple. I was beginning to feel drowsy, my mind was swimming. He could see the haze in my eyes and cupped my face lightly with his trembling hands, “Oh God, I’m sorry, it’s okay. Stay with me Aure, we’re going to get you back home. Stay with me now.”

He shifted and let me drape across his back. I avoided putting pressure on certain areas, but the morphine of being in Namjoon’s presence made it all bearable. I clutched onto his hackle with my father’s pelt safely tucked to me. He lifted up and began trotting back home.

I’m coming back home.

⇽ Prev | Masterlist | Next [Final]⇾

Copyright 2018  © by magicalsalamander. All rights reserved.

[head---ache]

hello im going to talk about my non fankid oc's because i feel like i talk too much about my children (sorry) and too little about my other characters and i know probably no one cares but fuck you/lh im going to force you to care/j

Tools the Chinchilla (she/they) is the oldest character in the group! (Ironically age wise they're the youngest, being 14). They're an anti hero, of sorts?? But I think a better way to describe her is just a silly chinchilla doing her own thing, not caring about anyone else. They really just care about what they have going on and are going to do whatever they need to get things done. She does not care about relationships at all, and only tries to get closer to someone if it benefits her. They're a investigator/scientist, mostly studying about chaos, so you can guess how that leads her to follow the main cast around, trying to act all friendly to get info out of them (but everyone knows she doesn't actually like them because she's really bad at acting). She also has a very big ego, and constantly compares herself to characters like Tails of Eggman, pushing them both down although she's not really an inventor, unless she needs something specific.

Prince the Peacock (he/him) is my boy!!! I love his concept. He has hypnotic powers thanks to his feathers, and he also cares a lot about his looks. He's very sophisticated, but also very high energy and friendly (he can be a little too much, in fact). He's also a bit naive, but that's mostly because he usually sees the best in people, and believes anyone can be good if he's just nice enough. He sees himself and Tools as best friends, even though she can't stand him, he just thinks they're shy. He's a little bit too scared of everything, but after being saved by the Resistance during the war he feels like he needs to do his part, so he's actually quite brave and very usually pushes himself out of his comfort zone.

Ferocity the Spider (she/her) seems to be somewhat of a fan favorite, and I think that might be thanks to her goth lolita fashion and the fact that she's a spider, definitely not something seen in the Sonic franchise. She's a full on villain, and is que agressive. She has all of the abilities spiders commonly have, but I can't get more specific than that. I'm way too scared of spiders and could only use drawings as reference for her design, so I didn't actually take the time to decide what kind of spider she is bskdbskfnskx She has every move calculated, and takes everything into account, she's very careful and methodic, but, like I said, when she needs to, she can get very agressive and scary. She's also very closed off and untrustful, so while she does have someone she works with (more on that later), she usually prefers to do things herself, just to make sure.

Joy the Horse (she/her) is a total sweetie. She's very shy and quiet, but has the biggest heart ever. She's a baker!!! And has her own bakery:) she sometimes brings some of her baked goods to Restoration HQ because some of her friends are there. She's softspoken and kind, but don't look down on her! She can kick you over the next city if she needs to>:) usually in defense, not in offense. She doesn't fight often, but if her or someone she cares about is involved she goes all out trying to help. Also Joy is the only one Tools tries to be friends with, but that's because they want free food. Joy knows this, and yet she still pretends she doesn't see when the chinchilla sneaks a cookie into their pocket.

Torch the Angler Fish (they/them) is Ferocity's right hand!!! Mostly just the dumb henchman in cartoons. They're way too energetic and impulsive, which is why Ferocity usually has to hold them down. They normally do the dirty work; if they need to fight, Torch will do it while Ferocity watches from the shadows and only interferes if needed. Torch, of course, has a little light that can lure people closer to them, and they often hide in the shadows, to then attack by surprise. They enjoy scaring people, they're a bit of an asshole lol. I said Ferocity is agressive, and yet, Torch is the most agressive of the two, which makes them a bit more scary.

Index the Secretary Bird (she/her) is a cute girly who works for the Restoration as, you guessed it, a secretary. I imagine she was friends with Jewel, and when she saw how much work the beetle had, she decided to step in and help. She's also very methodic, and strict. She actually was a librarian before she joined the Restoration, so you can be sure she has outstanding organization skills. She's a bit unexpressive, and distant, but definitely not mean, and if you manage to get close to her you'll have a friend who will give you the best advice and will listen to you with all of her attention!! She also has some knowledge in first aids, so when needed she also helps in that area.

And yeah that's that the fankids get too much attention so these guys also needed a post dedicated to talking about them tehee