#later on she saw lor and told me it was good and asked why we never saw it….

[fatimajpeg]

shout out to my sister whose second anime she ever watched after naruto was naoki urasawa’s monster… she watched both during her pregnancy

#i should call her today cuz wtf was going on there… #the same sister who forbade me from watching lord of the rings cuz it’s for nerds. #later on she saw lor and told me it was good and asked why we never saw it….

[ohtobeaspettyasleah]

what’s going on Lorelei?? She has to tell to Gray what’s happening, right? 🤔

Huge trigger warnings: everything to deal with abusive relationships, physical violence.

Lisa Dolan had always tried to teach her three children to help those who needed help. “People who need your help will always appear when they need you the most, in turn— they show up exactly when you need them.” Grayson could remember his mum saying one morning when he didn’t want to help his friend Tom pump up his new bike tires.

Grayson watched as Lorelei held her handbag in her lap. Keeping her oxygen tank upright the way it was supposed to be. His head hurt. Who was this girl, better question? Who was this girl and what happened to her.

Grayson watched as Lorelei held her handbag in her lap. Keeping her oxygen tank upright the way it was supposed to be. His head hurt. Who was this girl, better question? Who was this girl and what happened to her.

“You can uh, park in the parking garage.” Lorelei sighed as Grayson slowly to a stop. “Codes 33399” Grayson smirked. Of course it was.

“You sure?”

“You sure you’re not gonna fire me?” Lorelei asked as she turned to Grayson, he’d told her he’d get her home safe. Grayson felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility, considering it was technically something he said that sent Lorelei spiralling.

“Depends, do I have a reason to?” One hand on the wheel, Grayson parked his Porsche. “Needing help doesn’t technically full under reasons for instant dismissal—“

“How about false pretences—“

“Lor—“

“Look, you don’t know me from a bar of soap okay. I messed up, I knew it was wrong and I went along with it anyway and now, now I don’t know what to do.” Lorelei sighed as she undid her seatbelt. It wasn’t a sad sigh for Grayson’s sympathy— moreso a frustrated sigh. “I just—Yiu should call Adele.”

“Hang on, wa-wait a second alright just chill.” Grayson unclipped his seatbelt before jumping up out of his seat to follow Lorelei towards the elevator. Grabbing her bag for her without hesitation. Still heavy as fuck. “You can’t not tell me what’s going on Lor— I’m confused here. Just, just uh tell me what’s going on and we’ll go from there.” Lorelei looked at Grayson as the doors opened, she stepped inside and tilted her head with a soft smile to say come on then. Like a brown eyed Labrador— Grayson followed. Standing next to Lori and the elevator rose.

“You really wanna know what’s going on?”

“You don’t get to know my bank account details without at least having a little transparency Lore.”

“You call me Lor Why?” Grayson felt the word vomit rising in his throat. He held it back, not wanting to make the slightly awkward slightly bizarre situation he found himself in worse.

“I’ll call your Lorelei, or Lori, if you want me to.”

“I like Lor—nobody’s ever called me Lor.” Butterflies flew in Grayson’s stomach, the same ones he thought had turned grey and cold. Covered in dust bunnies from their dormant state. They flew, colourful and bright as he smiled. Nodding back a grin. “Your like Gray?”

“I’ve been called much worse, believe me—“

“You don’t seem like the type that could be much worse.”

“Well, it’s a two way street Lorelei like you said, you don’t know me from a bar of soap.” Grayson listened when Lorelei spoke. Something she wasn’t used to— she barely listened to herself.

“When did I say that?”

“In the car.” The elevator dinged. Lorelei let Grayson lead her out. Still holding her bag. “Which ones yours?” Referring to the doors that all looked the same in the cream coloured hallway.

“333, 33 level three.” Lori stoped as she pulled out her keys. Grayson felt like he was choking. There’s too many signs he thought.

Lorelei’s apartment was clean, sure it was lived in but it was clean in it’s natural state. A few dishes in the sink, half melted candles on the mantelpiece, some Chinese takeaway containers on the dinning table Grayson could only assume was either a later dinner or early breakfast. He looked around, a picture of Lorelei and Adele catching his eye. The seemingly haunting picture of two girls, one of which he thought he knew, one he didn’t know at all—smiling at him next to a card. The get well soon on the front didn’t match the vibe of the two girls who embraced each other so lovingly.

“You want a cup of tea? I have black or herbal.” Lorelei asked as she boiled herself some water. Not looking at Grayson when she asked. He looked giant in her home. Intimidating.

“Uh black with like half a sugar is fine, you and Adele look really happy here.”

“Don’t—“

“Lor—“

“She put me in to this you know, and this isn’t like me at all! To just throw someone under the bus but it’s true. She forced me out here and set me up in this job so I would bail and run back to the shit I know.” Grayson listened which had Lorelei panicking. “Say something Grayson.”

“Tell me what’s going on, for real, everything. A friend of Adele’s she cares about this much is a friend of mine.” He sat at her kitchen bench. Hunched slightly and waiting for his tea to flavour. Dumping the tea bag in and out of the mug of sugar spiked water. Lorelei did the same.

“Three months ago I had open heart surgery.” Lorelei sighed as she leaned against the counter. Arms crossed softly over her chest. Hiding scares she was ashamed off. “Not because of some underlying heart condition or some unforeseen tragic health issue—my uh, fiancé, well— ex fiancé now.” Lori sipped her tea, she could feel it all the way down my throat. “You want the full story right?”

“Lay it out for me.” Grayson didn’t mean for it to sound like he was pleading with him to come clean. He just wanted answers so he wasn’t so confused.

“I had this bike, loved it—Jacob, he was, well is, bandedos, brothers in arms so to speak.” Grayson looked even more confused. Lori giggled to herself. Sweet boy. “He’s in this gang so to speak, a bunch of thugs who ride bikes and deal crack.”

“Oh—right.” Grayson felt like a child.

“He’s also Adele’s step brother.” Grayson’s eyes bugged wide. “Three months ago he ran me off the road after a fight we had, I called it quits, he didn’t like it, said if He couldn’t have me no one could and came after me.”

“Shit Lori I—“ Grayson was speechless.

“I remember being trapped, that it was hot, only after I woke up in the hospital like three weeks later was u told that my bike had pinned me down and caught on fire. Got some pretty messed scares in my legs. Shorts? We don’t know her.” Grayson didn’t means to laugh at Lorelei’s high spirit and humour why telling such a heartaching stroy. “Anyway, he wasn’t done, Jacob has always had an authority problem. If he wanted me dead it was gonna be from his hands not a burning bike, so what does he do?” Lori paused for another sip. “I was a Jane doe in the system for six weeks, that’s how badly he beat me. My lungs just stop working sometimes? Doctors said It’s like they deflate for too long, especially when I get panicked. Hence the on call oxygen you saw.”

“Adele took two weeks off to see family in Sam Francisco—“

“Her bedside manor could use a little improvement.”

“Lorelei this is super intense. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Adele mentioned she knew these guys who were just total lights in anyone’s life. That if I moved to L.A, got away from Jacob, got away from it all, she’d set me up. Safe. I’d be safe for once in my life since freshman year of high school.”

“Adele didn’t go to collage did she?” Grayson asked as Lorelei’s shook her head.

“She’s back in San Fran, should be back this week sometime. She want me gone as soon as possible so she’s uh— tying up loose ends for me, I skipped out on my job and my rent and a few other things so she’s just— being a good friend.” It was the tears that got Grayson the most. The small ones. Lorelei held them back.

“There’s a lot more, but uh—in summary, I’m pretty fucked. Adele thought you and Ethan would be good for me, like you were for her, I’m sorry to just unload all this on you.”

“Don’t be, I wanna help.”

“Grayson—“

“You’re not fired either, but we can’t tell Ethan. Not yet anyway.” Lorelei felt ashamed, but greatful. “He’ll flip.”

“Understandable, I’m kinda confused why you aren’t like, storming out in undeniable anger from being lied to.”

“You needed a support system, Adele knew that, I trust her judgment and—“ Grayson paused as he stood, waking around to close the gap that had been driving him crazy. Lorelei’s eyes followed Grayson. Darting from his lips to his eyes. “I trust you.”

“Not so sure you should.”

“Give me a reason not to?”

“I could be lying about this entire thing.” Lorelei whispered. It echoed it Grayson’s ears. Sent him into a frenzy. He could see the scare sticking out of her shirt— diagonal leading down her chest. He knew.

“You aren’t Lor—you aren’t.” Lorelei was silent. She didn’t mean to play the game. But it’s all she knew. Her guard was down around Grayson Dolan and it hurt. She watched through hooded eyes as Grayson leaned in the ghost her lips before softly and ever so gently pressing his to hers. Before feeling a shove at his chest:

“What the hell was that?”

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #g.dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan series #my friend lorelei

[writtenonreceipts]

Square One Pt 2

I got some ideas and thoughts on the background for the story.  I should have thought about all of that prior to posting but I can be really impatient. Ha.  So bare with me if there do seem to be slight inconsistencies between this and the first chapt.  Also, I am the worst outliner.  I am a discovery writer through and through--just a small warning haha.  

And then as soon as I say I want to write a multi-chapt fic I loose all inspiration and motivation.  story of my life...enjoy anyways...i hope

#

“I hate your boyfriend Manon,” Elide announced as she entered her friend’s living room with a glass of water and bowl of chips.

Manon was seated casually on her couch wine glass in hand and computer already settled on her favorite site to online shop through.

“At least he’s cute,” Manon said half-heartedly.  She took a long sip of her drink as she filtered through her shopping.

In the bedroom, Marion was snuggled with the “puppy” Abraxos and an ipad loaded with cartoons.  It was only Thursday but Elide couldn’t bring herself to announce no more television.  Especially if it meant having a brief moment of solitude with her friend.

“He’s making me be friends with Lorcan Salvaterre,” Elide said.

Manon snorted into her wine and gave a choking cough. “He’s doing what?”

“Apparently neither of our kids have friends,” Elide said.  She paused when a sudden wave of emotion washed over her.  Scowling at herself Elide shook her head.  “Dorian says it would be a good idea for Marion and Tavish to have playdates, become friends.  So now I have to be friends with Lorcan Salvaterre.”

Cackling madly, Manon threw her head back with a laugh.  The woman seemed to be enjoying this far too much.

“It’s not funny,” Elide growled.

“Oh yes it is,” Manon said. “Especially if we get a repeat of the fourth of July."

Manon may have found it hilarious, but Elide was struggling more and more to hold back on the emotion building in her chest. When Elide didn't reply, however, Manon went quiet which of course only made it harder for Elide to hold back her tears.

"Lide," Manon said in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

"It's fine," Elide insisted. She brushed furiously at her eyes. "I'm fine."

She didn't have to look at Manon to know that her best friend was about to call her a liar when the front door to the apartment opened and Dorian entered.

"Hey babe," he called out before he saw Elide. "And babe."

"No," Elide said, "you shouldn't call me that."

Dorian grinned before making his way to the kitchen and grabbing a beer for the fridge. "Where's the menace to society?"

"You're child?" Manon asked quirking a brow.

"It's a dog, and it's a demon," Dorian replied.

"Uncle Dorian!"

Dorian managed to turn just in time before Marion attacked Dorion, nearly sending him toppling over. Abraxos, a rescue pit bull with half a missing ear and plenty of battle scars scampered into the room to join the attack on Dorian.

It was enough chaos that Elide was able to forget her earlier rise in emotions and laugh as Dorian struggled to keep his feet and beer.

"Where was my hello this afternoon?" Dorian exclaimed with a laugh. He managed to put his beer up on the counter and scoop Marion in his arms.

"You're a teacher, I can't know you," Marion said.

Elide and Manon leaned into each other laughing heavily while Marion dictated all the reasons why she had to ignore him.

"And you're old," Marion concluded.

"I love your daughter," Manon said as she finished her glass of wine.

Elide couldn’t help but agree.  She watched contentedly as Dorian accepted Marion’s help in getting dinner together.  The unspoken agreement of the Havilliard-Blackbeak household was that Manon did none of the cooking.  And Elide was in full support of it.  She’d tried Manon’s cooking before and it hadn’t been great.

It wasn’t much later when Marion had finally collapsed from exhaustion on her mother’s lap and was in a peaceful slumber.

Dinner had consisted of grilled cheese and soup, both of which Marion declared were her two favorite things.  Ever.  Another reason that Elide decided Dorian was one of her favorite humans.  If he could get her daughter to eat something without complaining, he could do anything.

“Do you need us to watch her?” Dorian asked as he settled onto the couch beside Manon.

It took Elide too long to really grasp what Dorian had asked and remember what day it was.  “Can you tomorrow night?  They have me on a closing shift.”

“Of course,” Manon said immediately.  She tucked her head back against Dorian’s chest and nodded encouragingly.

“I can always Aelin too, I don’t want to bother you and Dor--”

Dorian cut her off. “You’re never bothering us.”

Elide could only nod.  There was an unspoken invitation lingering behind Manon’s words.  An invitation that Elide would never accept.  She couldn’t.  Maybe she was too stubborn, but there was something about accepting the help--the charity that she knew she would never get over.  Besides, Manon and Dorian had already done more than enough for Elide.  More than she would ever be able to pay them back for.

“We should probably go,” Elide said, running her fingers through Marion’s hair. “It’s a school night.”

“I’ll pick up Marion so you can go straight to work,” Manon offered.

“That would be great,” Elide agreed.  She carefully pulled Marion into her arms and stood. “I can give you money for pizza or something.”

“Hell no,” Dorian said. “We’re making our own pizza tomorrow.”

“We are?” Manon asked doubtfully.  “You remember what happened the last time we did that?”

“Well this time the damn dog won’t get on the counter and eat all the cheese,” Dorian said.

Manon grinned slyly at him. “You love that damn dog.”

“Not as much as I love you,” Dorian replied.

Elide let out a groan and moved to the door before they started jumping on each other. “You two are disgusting.”

Manon cackled loudly and jumped up to follow Elide to the door. “Love you, Elide.  I’ll text you when I pick her up from school.”

Elide flashed one more grateful smile to Manon before hurrying out to her car, Marion still deeply asleep in her arms.

#

“So,” Rowan said with a deep frown, “Havilliard’s making you and Lochan be friends?”

“Our kids,” Lorcan said.

Rowan shrugged and leaned against the kitchen counter of Lorcan’s place.  In the living room a cartoon was playing and Tavish was yelling along to it--something with power rangers or something of the sort.

“I still can’t believe the two of you have kids,” Rowan said. “I thought she went off to play soccer at Wendlyn University.”

“So did I,” Lorcan said.

He could remember the day she told him about her plans.  She’d said she was going to get the hell out of Terrasen and never look back. That no one was going to stop her.  Lorcan remembered that was the day he realized that he kind of loved her.  They were only seventeen and Lorcan was always in awe of her spitfire nature and her passion for life.  Even when her uncle tried to break her continually.

“I didn’t think she’d ever come back here,” Lorcan added, “let alone stay here.”

Not after what had happened near the end of their senior year.  What he’d said.  What he’d done.  But Lorcan pushed that thought aside.  Thinking about the past had never done him any good.

“Dad?” Tavish poked his head into the kitchen and blinked up at his father innocently. “Can we go visit Momma tomorrow?”

Lorcan looked at his son, confused.  It wasn’t completely an out of the ordinary request, but strange nonetheless.

“Of course, bud,” Lorcan said, “but you know your momma wants you to go to bed on time.”

Tavish’s eyes widened to an impossible size before he nodded sullenly and dashed through the kitchen to his room.

“How has he been?” Rowan asked quietly as Tavish began slamming drawers in his room to get ready for bed.

“He was barely three when she died,” Lorcan said, “it’s been what?  Four years?”

“Yeah but if he’s being distant in school to the point that the principal--” Rowan began, but Lorcan scowled at him.

“Havilliard’s an ass,” Lorcan said, “and is just looking for something to do.”

“Lor,” Rowan said softly, “you know he’s right.”

Lorcan sighed heavily as Tavish dashed back out of his room to the bathroom.  The water turned on and the brief sounds of brushing filled the silence.  Tavish skidded back into the kitchen, his shirt was on inside out and his pants were pulled on unevenly so the left leg was bunched around his knee and the right flopped over his foot.

“Uncle Rowan,” Tavish said “can we go to the park with Fleetfoot on Saturday?  Aelin said we could.”

“Maybe on Saturday, my man,” Rowan said, he flashed Lorcan a look, “I hear your dad has plans for you on Saturday.”

Tavish cast Lorcan a long look that could easily be interpreted as uncertain and disbelieving.

“Marion’s mom invited us to play soccer on Saturday,” Lorcan explained.  Though he tried, Lorcan couldn't quite hide the grin when Tavish smacked a hand on his head.

“Marion doesn’t even like rocks or worms dad,” Tavish said. “Why do I hafta be friends with her?”

“Because friends are good for you,” Lorcan replied.  It was the worst explanation imaginable and Tavish fixed him with a look that was so obviously exasperated and reminded Lorcan so much of himself that he actually laughed out loud. “Besides, it’ll be fun.”

Taish let out a loud groan and slumped off towards his room.

“I’ll tuck you in in a minute, bud,” Lorcan called after him.

“Good luck with that,” Rowan said under his breath.

“I’m not looking forward to the teenage years,” Lorcan agreed.

Rowan grinned and shook his head before heading out for the night.  It was a regular thing that Rowan or any of their other friends would drop by at any given time.  Lorcan had decided long ago that he would have an open door policy with his friends and Tavish.  His home was a safe place.  No matter what, Lorcan would make sure his son didn’t have the same childhood he did.  

As Lorcan entered Tavish’s room he helped pile the blankets on the bed, making sure they were tucked sufficiently.  He also had to make sure the stuffed animals were all properly arranged as well.

“Marion’s weird dad,” Tavish said as Lorcan brushed his hair back. “She brought her stuffed animal to school.”

Lorcan shook his head, deciding not to remind Tavish that he’d defended Marion’s choice.  Instead he posed a question.  “What’s wrong with being weird?  Everyone’s a little weird.”

Tavish sighed and squirmed in the bed, getting comfortable. “I dunno.  No one really talks to her.”

“Sometimes talking to people is hard,” Lorcan said.  He knew Elide had been the same way in High School, always quiet, always careful.  Until you got to know then the dam would burst and insanity would ensue.  Lorcan smiled softly and leaned over to press a kiss to Tavish’s forehead. “You don’t have to be friends with her if you really don’t want to.  But just try this weekend okay?”

Tavish nodded slowly.  “Fine.”

“Good,” Lorcan said.  “Do you want to read something tonight?  We can finish that Spider-Man comic?”

“No s’alright,” Tavish said with a yawn.  “G’night daddy.”

Lorcan kissed his son once more and stood.  He made it to the door before Tavish spoke again.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Lorcan said as he turned off the light and headed off to bed.

#

as always, thank-you thank-you thank-you for reading/commenting/reblogging. 

I have bits of the next chapter ready, hopefully by next weekend it’ll be done...

tags: Using my general TOG taglist and specific requests for this fic. Let me know if I missed you.

@tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire  @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx  @bamchickawowow @bri-loves-sunflowers @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

#elorcan #elorcan au #elorcan fanfic #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #empire of storms #queen of shadows #single parent au #square one #the fanfic no one asked for #the fanfic no one asked for continues

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I Could Be Your Sometimes Part One

Part Two | Masterlist Rating: Explicit -  18+ Only Notes: Set before the series; Italics will indicate scenes set in the past Also I know nothing about the public relations market in Newton, MA, don’t @ me Title is from the song Summer by The Blow

Warnings: Eventual infidelity and sexual content. If you dislike this, please don’t read. Thank you. Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader Summary: Being in a small town had its pitfalls. I felt like everywhere I went I saw someone I knew. Including the lobby that morning, when I could’ve sworn I’d seen Andy fuckin’ Barber.

“Oh, geez— No really, Mr. Barber, you don’t have to drive me, I’ll be fine—“ I swore, grabbing my jacket off of the back of the couch. “It’s late, kid. Our fault, too, I don’t want you walkin’ home this late-- Hey Lor, I’m just gonna drive her—“ “Oh, of course!” Laurie’s bright smile and quick nod made me even more dubious; part of me had almost hoped she’d tell her husband that I could walk home (which, knowing Laurie as well as I did, was a ridiculous hope). “Got everything?” He asked, grabbing his keys from the counter. “Uh-huh,” I confirmed, shifting my bag on my shoulder. I gave Laurie a quick wave before I followed Andy out to the garage. I hated, hated, hated liking Mr. Barber. I felt like such a cliché: the babysitter crushing on the hot dad. It took effort to not squirm in my seat, or fidget with my seatbelt, or push my hair behind my ear. 

“Jacob didn’t give you any trouble?” Andy asked, glancing over at me. “Oh, no, he was fine,” I reassured him. Andy nodded, refocusing on the road. “… He say anything about school?” Andy asked a moment later. “Um… Just that he had the same teacher this year.” I glanced over as I heard Andy sigh a little. He shook his head a bit. “The school recommended he repeat a year in--“ “Kindergarten, yeah. Mrs. Barber told me,” I cut in, “… For the record, I think Jacob’s a sweet kid. Sometimes they just need more time to adjust. Nothing wrong with that.” Andy met my eye and smiled as we came to a red light. “Speaking of adjusting, you looking forward to college next year?” It was my turn to turn my attention to the road ahead of us. “I guess,” I said, shrugging a bit. “Just guess? NYU, that’s a big deal, right?” Andy pressed. “I think it’s slightly less of a big deal than people make it out to be.” “New school, new city— But you’ve got family down there, right?” “Uh-huh. That’s why my ma’s head hasn’t completely exploded about me turning down my acceptance to BU,” I rolled my eyes a little. I smiled at the sound of Andy’s chuckle. He pulled the car up outside my house and parked. “Thanks, Mr. Barber,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt. “No problem. Have a good night.” “You, too,” I mumbled, grabbing my backpack off of the floor of the car. I shut the door behind me. I hurried up the walk, stopping when I heard him call my name. I turned back to see him jogging after me. “You forgot your jacket,” He said, holding it out to me. I felt my cheeks flush as I took hold of it. “Sorry,” I mumbled. I went to pull it from him, and he tugged it back toward him, lips twitching into a playful smile. I felt my stomach flip as I tugged the jacket out of his hands, rolling it into a ball and hugging it into my chest. “Thank you,” I tacked on. “Sure,” Andy laughed before he turned, heading back to his car. I was careful not to watch him. I didn’t want him to turn around and see me staring at him. I hurried inside, shutting the door behind myself and pressing my face into my ball of a jacket, willing my blush away. — “… Oh my god you’re totally zoned, aren’t you.” “Huh?” I blinked a couple of times, looking up at my boss. Nora’s dark eyes were twinkling at me with amusement. “Where did you just go?” She asked. I shook my head. “I um… I’m sorry, I saw someone in the lobby that reminded me someone. What’s up?” I asked. I hadn’t initially planned to come back to Newton after I’d graduated from college. Nora had been my manager at an internship I’d had while I was in New York. She was a native Bostonian herself, and we’d been fast friends. By the time I’d graduated college, she’d started her own public relations firm in Newton, and had offered me a job. “It’s a great market - you know there’s nothing like this around here. Everything else is either in-house, or farming it out to an agency in Boston or New York that’s more worried about their larger clients than what’s going on with their boutique clients,” Nora had pointed out to me. She hadn’t needed to pitch me that hard. This job allowed me to get a place of my own, start a life that felt more mine. But being in a small town had its pitfalls. I felt like everywhere I went I saw someone I knew. Including the lobby that morning, when I could’ve sworn I’d seen Andy fuckin’ Barber. I didn’t think of Andy much. That dweeby little crush I’d had on him back when I’d been Jacob’s babysitter had faded while I was in New York. In retrospect, I had chalked it up feeling lonely, and being somewhat flattered that a particularly hot man was talking to me at all. But he was also a hot married man with a kid, and I had been a teenager at that point. I’d known nothing was going to happen, and on the rare occasion that I looked back, I felt nothing but mortification. “Well, if you could possibly zone back in? Or have you forgotten that you’re leading our Public Relations and the Law seminar?” Nora teased. I nodded. “No, I didn’t forget.” “Well, everyone’s checked in and grabbing their coffee. Got any jitters?” "Nope, jitter-free.” “… Who’d you think you saw in the lobby? An ex?” Nora asked, eyes narrowing curiously. I snorted. “Definitely not an ex,” I said, standing and smoothing over the forest green fabric of my skirt before I straightened my suit jacket. “Do I look alright?” I asked. “You look fine,” Nora reassured me before she peered into my mug. “No coffee?” She asked. “Not risking it until after the seminar. If I spill anything on this shirt,” I pointed to my white blouse, “I’d rather it be after I give this talk.” Nora snorted, leading the way to the conference room. I had lied to Nora a little. I did have a few jitters - I always did before a pitch or a seminar. I stepped into the conference room, looking around and smiling at the few people I made eye contact with. It was full of other PR professionals, as well as a few lawyers. “Morning everyone,” I greeted before I introduced myself, taking my place at the front of the room. The few murmured conversations quieted as I drew their attention. “I know we’ve all got deliverables to work on and motions to file, so if you could please hold your questions until the end of the presentation.” — By the end of the hour, the jitters had cleared, the presentation was finished, and most people were filing out of the room (though some were heading to the back to snag a second pastry). I leaned over my laptop, setting my clicker down to check my emails. I usually hung around after seminars on the off-chance someone had a question that they hadn’t the chance to ask me during the session. “All clear in here?” Nora appeared at my side, peering over my shoulder. “Well, none of the law professionals told me that I didn’t know shit about shit and none of the PR professionals insulted my presentation skills… To my face. And the room isn’t on fire, so I’d say we’re alright,” I nodded. Nora rolled her eyes. “Glad to hear it. Let me know when you’re done, we’ll go grab lunch.” “Sure,” I agreed, watching her go before I looked back down at my laptop. I heard someone approaching, but I was sure they were just nearing me on their way to the door, so I focused in on the email I was typing and not on the fact that they had gotten closer and stopped right in front of me. “That was… Quite the presentation.” My fingers stilled over the keys. I knew that voice. I raised my eyes, brow furrowed in surprise. “Mr. Barber?”

#andy barber #andy barber imagine #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #I Could Be Your Sometimes

[currentfandomkick]

thank @stareyedmoonchild and their post  Mid Day Thoughts for the quick fic

It started out as a joke in class--since she managed a collection around the Chinese new year and all the known miraculous (courtesy of Alya asking Ladybug and Chat in an interview), for their Gotham trip it was a challenge to do an outfit for each member of batfam the students could identify.

as it stood, she had a list of the following: Robin, Red Robin, Batgirl, and Batman. They decided Nightwing was more of a general hero since he kept jumping cities, while the others were deemed “uncertain’’. The Sirens.were a toss up, Red Hood was deemed a murdering vigilante and the others were only whispers on the internet. 

Marinette would have done one for what must have been a Batman inspired hero going by Black Black in China, but her challenge was Gotham-active only.

Day one was Robin day. She had done her research and combined what she liked and altered it to her taste while still being distinctly ‘Robin’. First layer was a black thermal. Next was a short sleeveless  red cheongasm with detailing to mimic the current Robin’s tunic, with the signature R in its usual place. Next was the cape, gold interior with an iridescent black exterior that fluttered past her waist, with a quick release just in case, all with a hood attached because it does get cold in Gotham.. Lastly thick dark green tights and a pair of green tinted black boots completed the look for her first day in Gotham. 

The class did ooo and ah over the end result, until Lila called it cosplay. 

Ignoring the challenge was issued by the head of the school’s fashion program.

She was not expecting to get grabbed by Riddler and Two-Face during lunch. Or for pair to broadcast it to Gotham.

“Batman, if you want your Robin back, come and get her!”

Riddler was issuing his clues while Two-face and his goons kept watch over her.

She could feel Tikki shaking in her hood, but couldn’t talk back without getting unwanted attention.

--

Bruce didn’t know what to do with the broadcast. He didn’t have another Robin? Damian was the only one that wanted the mantel.

That didn’t stop his family from running into his office with various levels of confused and betrayed faces.

“Again!”

“Master Bruce, it would be wise to cease the surprise adoptions and tell us when new family members have been acquired.”

“Damnit Bruce! You can’t help yourself when it comes to blue eyed raven haired children! Stop fucking up their lives!”

“B, what the hell.”

Bruce pinched his forehead.

“Father I will not stand to be replaced!”

That did it. the room was silent at the now fifteen year old Damian’s accusation.

“I haven’t adopted anyone.”

“Yet” grumbled Jason, watching the feed over Tim’s shoulder.

“Say, do  you go by Robinette?” one of the goon was heard asking.

The girl scrunched up her nose at that. “qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec les américans? je ne suis pas un "Robin" ou l'un de vos héros.” (What is wrong with Americans? I am not a "Robin" or one of your heroes."

Tim rubbed his head. “She’s a foreigner.”

“Leave in 5,  Babs and Tim watch the feed.”

That settled the group, for the most part. until the girl said something very long that caused TIm to start wheezing.

“"Bien que vous ayez le même QI collectif que mes camarades de classe. Ce qui n'est qu'impressionnant dans le fait que le bambin moyen a plus de sens qu'eux lors d'une bonne journée."  * ( Though you do have the same collective IQ as my classmates. Which is only impressive in the fact that the average toddler has more sense than them on a good day.)

“She just dragged her class and her captors!”

the group paused at that. Bruce decided he’d look into it after the girl was out of harm’s way.

“Can we please just save the poor girl, She must be terrified.”

“Don’t think so. She just told Riddler ‘i have seen better color coordination from baby August, whoever that is, than from this poor excuse for grown men’ Are we sure we’re not getting a new sister?”

“I will begin preparing the room Master Bruce will inevitably request.”

--

Marinette rolled her eyes as the ‘batfam’ entered and Riddler and Two-face turned between her and Robin.

“Batman, I think you might have a case of Serial Adopter worse Bruce Wayne.”

That caused Red Hood to cackle. 

It distracted the man holding her just enough for her to get out of his grip a kick the man in the face. here

The room froze as they saw Marinette huff, turn to face Two-Face and grabbed the gun from his hand and threw it elsewhere. “Si tu vas me battre ce ne sera pas avec ça!”

“Uh, Red Robin, translate.”

“ ‘If you are going to fight me, it won’t be with’ that.”

They watched  during their own battles as the girl then threw Two-Face over her shoulder like it was nothing. 

“Father, I change my mind, she may join us.”

The girl looked over at that and raised an eyebrow. “J'ai une vie.” (I do have a life.) she took down another goon as she said, “mais merci pour l'offre.” (but thank you for the offer). The girl wiped her hands as she said “Mais Paris est ma maison, et quelqu'un doit aider avec le problème d'akuma.” (But paris is my home, and someone has to help with the akuma problem.)

Damian walked over to her, offering his hand. “Robin. Why are you dressed like me?”

“Marinette. Je dessine, et on m'a dit de faire des tenues pour les héros gotham choisis par mes camarades de classe.”  Marinette shrugged then gestured to her outfit. " Celui-ci était pour ta journée.”

“Hey, Replacement, translate.”

“She designs, had to make outfits inspired by us.”

“Non, choisis par mes camarades de classe. Sinon, j'aurais dû concevoir pour chaque membre du batfam et Sirens"”

“My mistake, her classmates chose who. apparently she’d have siren designs and one for each of us otherwise---speaking of, who did you design for, out of curiosity?”

Red Hood tried to move closer to her then, suddenly seeing into her hood. “Oh my--MDC!”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “Oui.” 

Red Robin began.... hyperventilating? She wasn’t sure. 

Nightwing was swearing then, something about a bet--her English was good but not enough for fast mumbling.

Robin rolled his eyes. “I apologize for my father’s other partners. Now, you said something about an akuma problem....”

the rest of the night was spent with Marinette talking to the Gotham Police about the incident, with Robin staying close to her to translate as Red Robin was too busy acting like her over Jagged Stone before she met him.

“est-il toujours comme ça?“ Marinette pointed to Red Robin, who had yet to calm down from the earlier revelation.

“No, he’s usually a professional zombie.”

Marinette laughed at that. Somehow Robin ended up escorting her back to the hotel.

“Girl, we were so worried!” Alya hugged her. “You shouldn’t go off on your own just because you’re jealous that Lila’s dating Damian Wayne and you can’t even confess to Adrien without something going wrong, or him dating someone else or--” Alya then noticed Robin, right there and still hadn’t given her the time to point out she and Adrien were friends now or that Lila lied to get her expelled once and that she didn’t go off on her own, Bustier didn’t do a head check before leaving the coffee shop. “Can i get a picture!”

Robin was glaring... she didn’t know why though. “No. I hope you don’t get caught up in anything else during your stay here Marinette.” with that he left.

Marinette rubbed her temples, eventually making her way to her room.

--

Later Damian would snap at his brothers about Marinette not being his girlfriend or dreaded crush, and that she already has someone she likes and can they please focus on the akuma problem the girl mentioned?

--

Marinette tuned out Lila as she gushed about dating ‘Damiboo’ while Adrien thanked her for not causing a scene despite wanting to with his eyes on their way to their next destination. Only because she wanted a peaceful day.

During their hour of the Wayne Gardens Poison Ivy--one of the Sirens--walked over to her.

“So do I get an outfit too?”

Marinette sighed, twirling slighting in the batgirl outfit. “Outvoted on that one. If you feel any better, only the Robins, Batgirl and Batman were deemed real and heroes.”

Ivy hummed at that, watching Marinette work out a design. “But if i did, this I think a formal dress like this is what iId do.” 

the dress used Ivy’s old plant bustier as the base for a ballgown’s bust. The bustier on it was black with various shades of green vines and leaf patterns embroidered onto it. the skirt was an explosion of various plants and flowers found in the Wayne Garden.

Ivy smiled, walked off and sent out a tweet. 

Gotham, I elect we keep #notRobinette. If Batman won’t train her, I will.

--

It was later in the day that Marinette and her class would find out the #notRobinette tag was not only trending, but that there was now a twitter war between the Sirens and the entire Batfam for custody of Marinette.

Lila glared at her for it. 

--

A day later Lila was apparently sent a cease and desist from Wayne Industries and a warning that if she continued lying about the Waynes, she would be sued. 

Apparently Robin mentioned what Lila was saying to Batman, who is known to be the Wayne’s savior, and probably told them.

Marinette says probably as Damian appeared with Dick Grayson-Wayne to deliver them, and noted his measurements were awfully similar to Robin’s... and he was glaring at Lila identically to how Robin had glared Alya.

Before the pair left, Dick asked if his family could commission her, and if she could come in the Batman outfit for that one, please?

Alya answered for her. “She’d love to, right, Marinette!”

--

Somehow Adrien weaseled his way into coming with her--”For protection. And to stop you from getting adopted--there’s already two groups after m’lady, I can’t bear the thought of them taking you away from us all!”

“No kitty, “ Marinette booped him on the nose. “You can’t stand being stuck with Liar Rossi, your father and facing Hawkmoth without my baking.”

“And creative commentary on their outfits.”

“Hawkmoth is a terrorist and can’t handle even basic designs. He will rue the day he akumatized Nino, almost killed the adult population AND forced us all to witness that atrocity that was Bubbler’s outfit.”

The limo driver, Alfred, raised an eyebrow at that comment.

“Okay, that one was bad. Still want to know what he’d put you in though.”

“And if only for that reason, i refuse to be akumatized. Lila can try, but she is not going to get me there again.”

“Again?”

“uh, confessions later, work now?”

“M’lady...”

“Another time Chaton.”

--

Somehow the Waynes were easy for her to handle... Once Bruce was not staring at her like she was a ghost  and the howling clan that made up his kids (oddly the same number as the extended Batfam... and many with similar measurements to).

Except for Damian who was not answering her questions for his suit.

Instead he was glaring at Adrien, who was destroying Tim at a fighter game in her stead while asking “Why is he here?”

“Kitty, care to explain yourself!”

That had the room looking at the pair. 

“What did i do this time?”

“Follow me to work.”

“I am not letting you end up in a three-way adoption war in Gotham. When we’re in Paris its my job to deal with  being the fouht-over adoptee with yours and Nino’s families, and the Couffaines, and yours to watch father and Audrey and Aunt Amele argue over who discovered you while we sneak off to check up on how Kagami’s holding up.”

That had the room stare at them.

“There you have it, my best friend is convinced if he lets me out of his sight, one of the hero groups will kidnap me this time.”

“To be fair, it isn’t your first time being kidnapped, its just, not Paris so its worse.”

“Not your first time being kidnapped!” Dick yelled

The pair shurgged. “Akumas.”

“I’m pretty sure that Evillustrator started the kidnapping trend.”

“Does it count when its a date and I’m tricking him to get his akumatized object?”

“I think so, but Sabrina’s better on legal things like that.”

The Wanyes exchanged a look. 

“Plus, you get damseled more than me. especially is Lila’s involved.”

“We do not speak the devil’s name, it summons her.”

“We’re not in Paris, whatever magic side effects of  working with Hawkmoth isn’t around Chaton.”

When the Waynes (eventually) were caught up on the conversation, Bruce and the others exchanged a look.

They were adopting both of them. And the pair were definately the Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Dick patted Damian’s back when they left. “First heartbreak is the worst.”

Damian punched him.

--

Robin visited Marinette before the class left. 

“I was told to inform you i will be in Paris to assist your heroes. Please inform them however you communicate with them.”

Marinette nodded. She texted Adrien what happened, unaware they confirmed the batfam’s suspicions.

--

In Paris Robin was shocked to learn that Chat Noir was dating Ryuko, and that Ladybug set them up as civilians. He also learned that Ladybug and Marinette saw Adrein and Chat as a little brother.

And Chat and Adiren may have told both Robin and Damian that if they hurt Ladybug or Marinette, he would disappear.

It didn’t stop him from asking her out, or her from saying yes.

And it definately didn’t stop Alfred from telling Bruce that he cannot adopt her as Damian is handling her joining the family (over Dick’s cheers, Jason’s taunts and Tim and the girl’s teasing while Duke whispered “since when can he have a crush? i thought he said those were distractions.’)

--

Years later Damian did propose. In front of where they first met as Robin and #notRobinette.

---

Hope you enjoyed!

#maribat #quick fic #what quick fic #i can only do long apparently #unedited #lila salt #in small quantities #mostly batfam and Marinette dealing with it

[loriannelawless]

emergency room visit | foxri

fox comes back form his little fight with foster. lori is very worried

Lori had been worried sick since he left. Not only did she have no idea where he was going or what he was doing - and him not answering his phone hadn't helped - but she was still so worried he was upset with her. She took the food out of the oven and got changed into pajamas and just waited and waited and waited for him to come back home.

Fox didn't really remember much of the drive back to his apartment. He had some trouble with getting his key in the lock at first but he finally made his way into the building and up the stairs. He paused outside the door, wiping his face on his jacket before heading inside. Lori was going to freak out. He really needed some aspirin. He walked inside fully intent on slipping quickly into the bathroom but then he saw her waiting for him. "It's not what it looks like."

Lori felt like the minutes were taking hours to pass. She finally heard him at the door and jumped up, feeling her heart beating like mad in her chest. Her jaw dropped when he stepped in, and she felt her eyes well up. "Oh my god. What did you do?" she asked, immediately rushing to his side. "Oh god, Fox. You look awful. You're bleeding so much," she said, putting her hand gingerly to his face. "What did you do?"

Fox felt really dumb. And guilty. He already regretted everything he'd said to Foster. "It's not so bad. It looks worse than it is. There's just a lot of blood. I'm fine." He was most certainly not fine. "I just had a conversation with Foster. Things didn't go so well. Turns out reading Fight Club doesn't actually prepare you for a fight. I need to sit down," he said suddenly. "I'm a little dizzy."

Lori shook her head as he spoke. "You are not fine. You're so stupid. You could've gotten seriously hurt. I actually think you are seriously hurt," she said, following him as he sat down. "We need to go to the hospital. You probably have a concussion or something," she said, still frowning. He was such a mess. "Babe, you have to promise me you won't ever do anything like that again. Please."

Fox waved a hand slightly before sitting down. "Yeah. Pretty stupid. Foster hates me," he admitted. "Is my shirt ruined? I liked this shirt." He shook his head a bit and reached out to pat her arm. "I'm fine. I just need a towel and some aspirin. I'd get it myself but I'm a little tired." He felt rather dazed. "I've never been in a fight before. I don't think I'll ever do it again."

Lori let out a soft sigh and shook her head. "I'm sure he doesn't hate you," she said, trying to sound reassuring. She shook her head again. "I'm sure I can get it out," she said. She gave him a look. "Oh no. Don't you dare try and sleep," she said. She got a towel damp and brought it over, sitting next to him as she dabbed at his skin. "Good. Fights are stupid. You're not stupid, don't do stupid things that put you in danger."

Fox shrugged slightly. "I was pretty terrible. I'm a terrible person," he admitted. He wasn't so sure she could but he was already trying to focus on something else. "I'm not sleeping I just don't feel like moving." He winced a little as she started to dab at his skin. "I didn't think it through. Big mistake." He looked at her and frowned slightly. "My face must look pretty awful if you've got that look on your face," he tried to lighten the mood.

Lori let out a soothing 'shh', shaking her head at him. "You aren't," she insisted. She frowned when he winced, trying to be more gentle. She really needed to get him to the hospital. She was so worried about him. "You're telling me," she said, keeping her voice light. She smiled a little at him. "You look handsome, I'm just worried about you," she said honestly. "C'mon, we gotta get you looked at."

Fox started to shake his head but that hurt too much. "I said some awful things, Lor. I hit him first." He felt awful. "I deserved all of this for what I said to him." His shoulders sagged a little bit and he sighed. "You're a terrible liar. If you said I looked fine I might have believed you but handsome?" He took a deep breath. He didn't really know if that was a good idea. "They'll ask questions. I'm fine."

Lori touched his face gently, letting out a soft sigh. "I wish you'd just stayed here with me," she said wistfully. "He'll forgive you," she promised. "Why'd you do that?" she asked him, frowning a little. She let out a small sort of teary laugh. "I'm just worried about you, Fox," she reiterated. She shook her head a little. "Even if they do, they won't like, arrest you. C'mon, I'm really worried. What if something went wrong?"

Fox nearly laughed but it hurt too much to even think about it. "Yeah, I wish I had too," he admitted. "Not sure about that. You should have seen his face." He'd ruined his friendship with the greatest man he knew. "I was mad." He took a deep breath, exhausted. "I'll be fine, Lor. People get hit in the face all the time and they're fine." He didn't want to go to the hospital. It wasn't because he was worried he'd get arrested but he didn't want doctors and nurses asking who he'd fought and arresting Foster. He didn't know how that worked. "Something like what? My face doesn't look the same?"

Lori raised an eyebrow at that and scoffed a little. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I kinda doubt it's worse than yours," she said lightly. She sighed again, leaning back a bit. She'd gotten most of the blood off at least. "I told you I was okay," she reminded him. She didn't really feel comforted by that. She was just so worried about him. "Like what if I can't get you to wake up in the morning? Or what if you pass out at school and hit your head? Don't get me wrong, I love your pretty face, but I'm more worried about you," she said, pointing to his chest and emphasizing the word 'you.'

Fox actually chuckled this time. "No, I meant his face when I said what I said to him. I was horrible and cruel. He'll never forgive me. I told him he wasn't capable of love or being loved. I told him he was so selfish that he drove girls to move cross country," he frowned. "I was just so mad. I've never been so mad. Words were just flying out of my mouth, I couldn't control it." He sighed. He had a deep sense of self loathing that hurt worse than his face. "Okay. Okay, we can go. Can you bring me something else to wear?"

Lori smiled a little when he laughed. "Oops," she said softly. She made a face, glancing down at him. "That was a low blow. I'm sure he knows you don't mean that, though," she said, still keeping her voice soft. She sighed as he did. "I've never seen you so angry," she admitted. It had made her nervous. She nodded. "Lift your arms," she said, helping to get the shirt off of him. "I'm going to put this in hydrogen peroxide and come back with your shirt," she said, going to get the shirt covered so it would maybe not stain. She came back in a moment with his shirt. "Do you want me to help you get it on?" she asked.

Fox sighed, dropping his head down in shame. "I know. I never would have said it. I didn't mean it at all. I was just so upset at the thought of him taking advantage of you. I knew he wasn't or didn't mean to or whatever but it pissed me off," he admitted. He was so ashamed. "I've never been this angry." He lifted his arms so she could help get the shirt off and nodded a bit. Once she returned with the shirt he nodded. "Please. That would be really helpful." He lifted his arms again so she could help him get the shirt on and sighed. "Okay. I guess we'll go."

Lori leaned down so she was at his level and cupped his face lightly, leaning in and kissing his lips softly. "You can apologize to him later. Of all the people to understand doing something regretful when angry, Foster will get that," she promised. "I swear he didn't take advantage of me, though. It's sweet that you care so much, though," she said with a smile. She nodded, helping him get into the shirt without hurting him more. "Thank you."

Fox didn't kiss her back but he appreciated her gesture. His lips were sore but her kiss had rejuvenated him. "I will. I'll apologize so much. I'll send him gifts and everything. He's my best friend, Lor. He's the only reason I came out of my shell," he sighed. He nodded a bit. "I get it. I know he didn't. I know that's not Foster. I just hate thinking of you so vulnerable. I wish I'd answered my phone that night." He braced himself to get up slowly, not wanting to become more woozy. "You know I'd do anything for you."

Lori didn't think he'd have to send gifts and all of that, but she thought a sincere apology would mean a lot to him. They both said things they didn't mean, she was sure. "He knows you didn't mean that, and he knows he means a lot to you. He'll get over it in time, I'm sure, and forgive you," she said. "Why?" she asked curiously. She smiled a bit, taking his hand so they could walk down to the cab. "I know you would, babe."

Fox wasn't so sure. If he lost Foster, he didn't know what he would do. He was his very best friend in the world. The last thing he'd ever wanted to do was hurt him and yet he'd let his emotions get the best of him and had lashed out. "You think so?" he asked anyway. "I really didn't mean it." He wobbled a little as he walked with her. "Because I could have helped you. Things could have been different," he explained. "I love you, Lor. So much."

Lori nodded along. "I know so. Everyone says mean things to hurt people when they're upset. And everyone knows that," she reassured. She'd talk to Foster when she could. She shrugged a little. "I only needed to get home. I don't really think things would be any different, other than, I wouldn't feel embarrassed," she said. She smiled, nodding again. "I know. I love you, too. More than you know," she promised.

Fox still didn't think that mattered. He wasn't the type of people to say things like that. He didn't say mean things in general. He usually didn't even have the impulse to. He was a nicer guy. He preferred to spread kindness instead of hatred. "Yeah, I guess," he sighed. If she'd called him, maybe things would have been different. Maybe she never would have slept with Foster. Maybe they would have been together sooner. He didn't know. "Oh yeah? More than I know? I think I have a good feeling."

Lori made it down to the street with him, their apartment locked up upstairs. She hailed a taxi, holding him still. "More than you know. You can't even begin to grasp it," she said playfully, smiling at him. "You mean the world to me, Fox," she promised. She didn't think she'd ever end up so happy with another person. It just didn't feel like the kind of thing that would happen to her.

Fox smiled at her. He was doing his best to show that he wasn't hurt but the pain in his face was searing. "Then you can't even begin to grasp how much I love you," he responded. "You mean everything to me. You're the love of my life," he promised. He grabbed the door of the taxi to let her in first, chivalry winning out over common sense. "I don't think I can go to work tomorrow." He didn't want to have to explain to a room of impressionable teenagers that he'd been in a fight. Over a girl.

Lori didn't think that that was true, because she loved him an awful lot. But it was cute to argue over who loves who most. "You're the love of my life, too," she promised. She rolled her eyes fondly as he opened the door for her, but got in. "I could've gotten that," she teased. She nodded a little, raising her eyebrows to give him a look. "You don't say?"

Fox patted her hand gently. He knew that he was. He knew that they were meant to be together. It didn't matter that things were hard sometimes. They were perfect for each other. "I know you could have but you know, habit," he said lightly. He sighed a bit. He had plenty of time off saved up but he hated to use it. "Finding a sub and organizing everything is more work than actually working," he complained.

Lori smiled at him, letting her fingers gently move over his hand. He was so sweet. She nearly leaned her head against him, but stopped herself. "Don't you worry about that. I'll get everything taken care of, okay?" she promised. She just needed him to be okay, and she was worried he wasn't right now. She knew he wasn't that badly hurt or anything, but seing him like this made her chest ache.

Fox let out a sigh. He'd really just made everything harder on himself. He hadn't accomplished anything by fighting with Foster. He'd just fucked himself over. "Okay. If you're sure. Are you still going to work?" he wondered. He didn't mind if she did, even if he'd prefer having her home with him if he had to sit around the apartment all day. He was so never getting in another fight. It hadn't been worth it.

Lori shook her head, leaning in and kissing his cheek. "No way in hell," she said with a small grin. She wasn't leaving him until she was sure it was a good idea. She just couldn't stand the idea of him being alone at home all beat up like this. She'd scold him when he was feeling better, but for now, she was just going to help him get back to normal.

Fox relaxed when he heard that. He'd enjoy the day much more if he could spend it with her and not alone. He'd probably go crazy if he had to sit alone all day. "Thank you." He glanced out the window, wondering how much farther they had to go. His face was still throbbing and he knew Lori would feel better when he'd been checked out by a doctor. "Thanks for always being so good to me, babe."

Lori patted his leg gently. "Of course, babe," she smiled. She could tell they were nearing the hospital, and she was relieved because she really just wanted to get back home with him. Maybe they could still eat. "You don't have to thank me for that," she said with a soft smile. She couldn't imagine a reason in the world for her to ever stop being as good to him as she could.

Fox knew he didn't have to but he wanted to. She took care of him. She loved him. He was allowed to be thankful for that. "I want to. You do so much for me. You deserve to be thanked for it," he told her. "So thank you." He put his hand over hers and smiled at her the best he could. "I hope Foster's okay. I mean, he probably is because I don't think I hit him too hard but still."

Lori didn't really feel like she did that much. In fact, sometimes, a lot of times, she felt like she didn't really deserve him and all the things he did for her. But now wasn't the time. "You're welcome," she smiled back at him. "I'm sure he'll be fine. I asked Evie to go make sure he was okay. I'm sure he's fine, and he's in good hands," she said with another small smile. She hoped her request hadn't stepped over an boundaries.

Fox wondered if that was the best idea. He'd kind of thrown Evie in Foster's face. He hoped he hadn't done anything that might hinder whatever was happening with them. "Yeah. That makes me feel a bit better. At least someone checked on him," he decided. "Maybe that'll soften some of the anger he probably has for me." He wanted to sigh but he kept it in. "I can't wait to get back home. I'm exhausted."

Lori thought that he'd be fine, really, and having Evie there would definitely soften any anger still boiling in him. "Stop thinking about him so much. You're gonna depress yourself," she said lightly. "Hopefully this'll go quickly," she said as they pulled up to the ER entrance. She leaned forward to pay the cab, then went to open her door. "Can you let me help you this time please?"

Fox didn't really think he'd feel any better not thinking about him. Also he had a feeling that he'd find it impossible to not when he was about to have his face looked at by a doctor. "Well, give me something else to think about then," he teased. He sighed a little when she paid and took control of the situation. "Yeah. I'll behave," he promised. "You can help me."

Lori leaned in and kissed the side of his face gently. "Tomorrow, if you're good, maybe I can do something to make you feel a bit better," she said in a sort of sultry whisper. "Don't think on it too much," she teased. She offered him a hand, helping him out of the car. "Let's get you fixed up so we can go home. And maybe we can eat some of your food if you're feeling up to it," she said with a smile.

Fox hadn't really expected her to go in that direction. He grinned, ignoring the way it made his face ache to do so. "Not sure what I thought you were going to say but it wasn't that," he chuckled. "I'll try not to," he promised. His head was already spinning in that direction, though. "I forgot I'd cooked," he admitted. He let her help him without protest and followed along with her into the hospital.

Lori smiled when he did, leaning in and kissing him softly again. "Let's get you taken care of," she said. She nearly laughed a little. It had been a bit hectic, but she was sort of hungry behind the concern that was eating away at her. "I'm not surprised you did," she said honestly. She couldn't wait for this to all just be behind them so they could move on from this.

Fox didn't argue with her. He could tell she was still worried about him. He didn't blame her. He was worried for himself, too, but for more aesthetic reasons. When could he go back to work? What would his boss think? Did he lie and say he was mugged? He had no clue. "Well, I hope it's still good," he mumbled. He leaned on her a bit, giving her the feeling she was helping him more.

#7

[greyskywrites]

Wolf’s Price

[First] [Previous] [AO3] [ko-fi]

XII. Half Wild

5.2k

The young man who’s leg I had taken off was named Vigi. He was healing well, though he was about to go mad from being bedridden. I eased him onto his side, so that he would not fall victim to bedsores, and laid a clean blanket over him. “You’re very lucky,” I told him. “Not many live after they get that sick.”

Vigi said nothing, head resting on his folded arm.

“Has your family been to see you?” I asked.

“They have to work,” Vigi mumbled. “And I’m no good to them now.”

Anarin was just the next bed over, washing arms and feet. She looked over, and shook her head. “Don’t be stupid,” she said. “You’re much more useful alive than you are dead, or else your father wouldn’t have brought you here.”

Vigi said nothing again.

“I’m going to make you a cup of tea,” I told him, “it will help with the soreness.”

As I went to the fire, Anarin finished what she was doing, and moved to Vigi’s bed. From the hearthside, I watched her sit behind him, taking out his braid and combing his hair with an ivory comb she had brought. She gently worked out the tangles of days of neglect, smoothing long brown hair out into her lap.

Slowly, Vigi’s shoulders relaxed. Anarin was braiding his hair again when I returned, from the nape of the neck halfway down his back, where it was tied off with a length of leather cord. Then she helped him to sit, so he could drink.

“You shouldn’t overwork yourself,” I told her, noting how tired she looked. “It isn’t going to get any easier for you as the weather gets colder.” It was yet difficult to tell that she was pregnant just by looking at her, but soon enough the swell would show under her skirts.

Anarin shook her head. “Boredom kills the spirit,” she said. Her son was playing with children outside, because Anarin had grown to dislike leaving him in the castle. I suspected she wasn’t sleeping, but she refused to discuss it with me.

Her men were not happy with her new hobby, that much was clear. Haris was almost always trailing behind her these days, which Anarin muttered was the agreement she had made to continue working. He would sulk out by the door, keeping an eye on Veland, while Anarin and I worked inside. After, we would make our way to the feast hall, and I would watch Anarin instruct the men working there.

Most all of them were Sarenn, and Anarin spoke to them in their own language, so they listened to her as they never would to the few Kressosi officers who sometimes came to inspect and criticize their work. If those officers made true nuisances of themselves, Anarin would remind them who was closer to the commander’s ear, and the problems would go away. This feast hall was her domain to command.

I didn’t know what she was up to until she brought one of her carpenters to the lodge. He was a respectable looking man, not the sort who really wanted to be in the lodge, except that “Mrs. Emiran” had asked him and was paying him for his work.

He had brought the beginnings of a wooden leg and the boot that would fit it to Vigi’s thigh. Anarin explained to Vigi that they needed to be sure it would fit correctly, though he would not be able to wear it until the leg had healed. They took some measurements, the carpenter nodded, and promised Anarin it would be finished soon. “

It will take some getting used to,” Anarin told Vigi, a hand on his shoulder, “and you may not be as fast at first, but you will be able to walk about on it.”

Vigi wasn’t quite so somber, after that. He smiled more readily, and wasn’t so grim when I changed his bandages or moved him to one side or the other.

We were there late one day, I think Anarin thought I wasn’t paying attention. Very quietly I heard her ask Vigi if he would know the man who shot him, if he saw him again. Vigi said he would.

“What do you think you’re about?” I asked her in a whisper, when we had a moment alone. “Or do you think your men just won’t notice if wolves start killing their men?”

Anarin’s eyes gave nothing away. “Do you want justice, or not?”

I let out a breath. “Why don’t you leave that justice to me, and not your forest friends?”

Anarin gave a small smile. “Perhaps. First we have to find him.”  

#

I once nearly drowned in the river I was named for. I was only a child, prone to doing foolish things like playing on the rocks when Alvild had told me not to, heedless of how fast, how cold the river was, until I fell in and my breath seized in my chest and my limbs went stiff as oak wood.

The strangest thing was that I wasn’t afraid. I didn’t have time for fear, I think. My head broke the water and I sucked in a breath before it pulled me down again, into the freezing dark.

I would be rescued by a fisherman’s net, flung out across the river when he had seen me fall in, and hauled to shore tangled in its cords. “Hells, girl!” he shouted as he pulled me free, “You’re lucky to be alive!”

I was surprised, when I saw that I was bloody. The water had numbed me, so that I didn’t feel it when I struck the rocks. “You must have seen the grinning face of Death herself,” the fisherman said, furiously rubbing my arms to put warmth back into them.

I suppose I had. What I did not tell the fisherman, what I never told another living soul because I was not certain I even believed it, was what else I had seen.

The stories tell of the great snakefish of the Lor, who waits for the end, growing fat on the dead who are left to the river.

I saw her, then, the pale grey flesh of the creature lurking in the water, and the great watery eye as big as a man’s head that took me in, and nudged me back to the surface, as if telling me it was not my time to die. Something changed in me that day that has never been quite the same. A sense that I owe that river a debt.

#

The feast hall was completed not three days before the first snow of autumn, and Anarin held a small celebration for all those who had worked on it. It was nothing extravagant—fires in the hearth, a barrel of ale, roast goose with radishes and onions—but there was a general good humor, pride taken in what they had built. I watched Anarin float about the feast hall, greeting the men and thanking them for their hard work and craftsmanship, and I watched the men glow under her attention.

She could have been a queen, if she wanted to. She could perform the right graces, make people feel seen and cared for. It was as if the incident the first day we arrived had never happened.

Anarin was talking about legacy, about this structure they could take pride in. All the attention was on her, so no one noticed as I stepped outside into the thin layer of snow, sucking in a cold breath of air.

I pulled my shawl tight against the chill and leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes. I could feel winter breathing down the back of my neck, and I wondered how Anarin felt when she met the Wolf face to face, if the fear was as deep as I thought it would be.

I heard the crunch of boots in the snow, and opened my eyes to find Emiran, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket. I was a little surprised—most men of his rank would carry a pipe, if they wanted to smoke.

Emiran noticed me and nodded, cupping his hands around the flickering flame of a match as he lit his cigarette, watching the quiet street. “Does she worry you as much as she does me?” Emiran asked, not looking at me.

“Commander?”

“I’m not blind, Tyna.” He let out a breath, looked very tired. “I can see how you look at her.”

I folded my arms across my chest, pressing my hands under my elbows to keep them warm. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

Emiran laughed softly. “I thought Andon’s physician would be a better liar. Ah, well.” He rubbed a temple with the heel of his hand. “I understand, if that’s any consolation.”

“All due respect, Commander,” I said, light as I could, “you don’t understand a damn thing about me.”

Emiran was quiet for a moment, puffing on his cigarette, and he shrugged. “Maybe not. I don’t understand her, either.” He sighed, and for a moment I felt almost bad for him. I, at least, had the luxury of knowing who Anarin was, and why she was important. The poor bastard had no idea.

“Do you believe all this?” Emiran asked. “All this about gods and spirits?”

I watched him from where I stood. “That’s like asking me if I believe the winter wind is cold, or the stars shine at night.” I had felt how barren Kressos was, not the land itself, but its people. Every flower and leaf sang for them, and it was as if they couldn’t hear. Or perhaps they chose not to.

Emiran shook his head. “I know she leaves at night,” he said. “She comes back smelling like the forest, or like dust.”

“She has trouble sleeping,” I said, as if that would satisfy him. “She probably leaves so she doesn’t wake you.” I tried to think of ways I could direct him away from this topic, some way to put any of his fears to rest, for Lya’s sake. Suspicious men were dangerous men. “There are herbs that would help her sleep, if she would take them.”

Emiran looked carefully at me. “You know where she goes at night, don’t you?”

I met his gaze. “I know many things, Commander. Not all of them concern your mistress.”

He looked about to speak again, so I was swift to interrupt him. “This place makes her uneasy. Wouldn’t it be the same for you, if you were in her place? Her people were slaughtered here. I don’t think her sleeplessness has any more significant cause than that.” I turned my gaze away from him. “She cares deeply for you, Commander. It seems to me the least you can do is trust that fact.”

Emiran leaned back against the wall. “I should never have come to this place,” he muttered. “Should have retired years ago.”

On that, at least, we agreed. Fate would have drawn Anarin back here sooner or later. Emiran was an unnecessary element.

Emiran flicked the last of his cigarette into the snow, in a way that spoke of a much younger man, a discontented soldier who knew better than to speak of that discontent. “Promise me one thing at least, Tyna,” he said. “Whatever you have to do to me, don’t let any harm come to her, or her children.”

I glanced away. “I don’t harm children, Commander. I prefer not to orphan them, too.”

He nodded, and left me without saying anything else.

I lingered out in the cold, listening to what I could hear of the celebration inside through the heavy wooden walls.

If Emiran did not rest easily inside Morhall, it was not hard to guess why. Anarin said she was ghost-haunted. Like as not, she wasn’t the only one, not when Emiran was sleeping beside the widow of a man he had killed, harboring that man’s only living son. Whether or not the souls of the dead truly linger, that tension would be in the air, and Emiran not understanding why.

#

I don’t know how Anarin found his name, because so far as I knew, Vigi had yet to leave the lodge since I had removed his leg. I had no way of knowing if it was the right name, but in the end, I suppose I didn’t care. It is impossible for me to watch my people suffer, day after day, knowing why they suffer, and not think that someone must be punished for it. Someone must be prevented from creating further suffering.

It couldn’t be done within Morhall, Emiran’s scrutiny would be on me before the man had drawn his last breath. If it happened outside of the castle walls, I knew I could make sure I was not noticed. I could make sure there was nothing anyone could prove.

It is an easy thing, to follow a man who does not know he is being followed. Easier, when he is already drunk, and means to become drunker. I wore plainclothes, and a hood over my head.

No one noticed me follow the men into a tavern, no one noticed as I hung back and watched where they sat.

I had been hired to kill men for less than this, so I did not know why it sat so uneasily with me.

A slip behind, a pretend fumble, bumping into the man, and muttering an apology as I slipped away again, too quickly for him to notice the needle pricked into his skin. I moved to the hearth, and waited to be sure.

A few minutes, maybe more, and he convulsed, vomiting across the table. People were slow to be alarmed—it was not as if vomit was uncommon in a tavern. Spasms, however, were.

I did not need to see the whole of this. He was past saving, now.

The night sky was clear as I stepped outside, and I could hear the wolves howling in the forest. I did not stop to listen to them.

#

Alvild knew it was me who had killed Agi. We did not speak of it, but I knew it in the way she looked at me. She began to give me new lessons, in how to process the kinds of mushrooms and herbs I had once been forbidden from harvesting.

We wore leather gloves that were coated in oil, to keep the poison from seeping through our skin, thick cloths over our nose and mouth, and a thinner cloth that we could see through over our eyes. “You can kill yourself working carelessly,” Alvild told me. “Remember that.”

The poisons we made were kept out of sight of visitors, in a particular chest, carefully labeled. I hadn’t realized before that Alvild already had a collection, that I now added to.

There was a man that came to the house sometimes, Alvild had always sent me away when he came, and I had assumed he was someone I ought to avoid. It turned out that he was the one that she sold the poisons to. He was dressed like any other Sarenn man, but when he removed his hood, his hair was cut close to the scalp, which shocked me more than the burn scar on the side of his face.

I had never seen a man who didn’t wear some kind of braid, whether the flat plait of the sleek haired, or the several tight rows bound together of those with hair as wiry as Alvild’s. Criminals were sometimes shaved, I had heard, but they were usually condemned to die, and if the judge was feeling merciful, their hair might be given to their loved ones.

This man, when he spoke, revealed himself by accent to be Kressosi. I could see that he would have been handsome, without the burn that marked him. His skin was the same gleaming red-brown of cherry wood, eyes the cool dark brown of forest soil. Had he been a woman, Alvild might have lost me then.

He hardly glanced at me, while he spoke to Alvild. “There is trouble coming,” he said.

Alvild waved a hand. “There is always trouble coming.”

“I may not be able to cross the river for some time,” he said, handing her a purse that alarmed me with how heavy it was. “So, whatever you have, I’ll take it.”

“Are you trying to kill an army?” Alvild asked. “Or maybe their horses?”

The man did not smile. “If I cannot cross again before next spring, I still need to eat through the winter.”

Alvild shrugged, and sent me to fetch the chest. She had me tell him what each thing was, and finally he looked at me, but not the way most men did. He was listening, patiently, and nodding as he inspected the bottles and jars, loading them quietly into his own trunk.

“You have questions,” he said, as I trailed off.

I gazed at him for a moment. “Who are you?” I asked. “What do you need these for?”

His mouth quirked up at the corner. The side of his face that was burned was pulled back in a sort of perpetual grimace. “I sell them to Kressosi apothecaries, who can’t get the herbs that grow this far north. I’m not an assassin, if that’s what you thought.” He pointed at his face. “Too recognizable.”

I think I was meant to laugh, but I couldn’t. “What happened to you?”

He nodded a bit, looked amused. “War. That’s all.”

#

Vigi stood uncertainly on his new leg, wincing a little at the unfamiliar pressure on his not-quite-healed leg. The carpenter Anarin had come with was explaining how the joint worked, how he would have to adapt to the new gait. We had quite the little audience out in front of the lodge, where the light was good enough that we could see and the ground frozen enough that Vigi could stand on it.

It was nice work. Plain, but functional and strong. I wondered how much Anarin had paid for it.

Vigi’s father was so overcome, he could hardly speak. He was an older man, and Vigi clearly a younger son. Vigi had mentioned something to Anarin about older brothers who had been killed when the Kressosi took Morhall. Anarin had spent a great deal of time speaking to Vigi and the others, getting to know them, and I watched them look forward to her visits, while Haris skulked about by the door, keeping his distance.

Veland was often there, too, practicing his Sarenn with the bedridden and their caretakers. It didn’t escape my notice that his favorite people, however, were the ones who could speak at least a little Trader’s Tongue.

Vigi’s father tried to thank Anarin for her help, but she shook her head, refusing the thanks, and smiled, putting her hand on the old man’s arm. “I should be thanking you, for welcoming me.” It was a pretty little game she played, she would have been formidable as someone’s first wife, rather than being wasted as a wife so low-ranked her sons would have had to seek out lords to pledge their service to, and her daughters compete for desirable marriages.

Haris was restless, and it was making the others anxious, so I went to stand by him. “If you don’t stop fidgeting,” I said in a low voice, “they’re going to think you’re liable to shoot someone.”

Haris was grinding his teeth. “This is absurd.”

“If it makes your household more peaceful you don’t have a right to complain,” I muttered. “You don’t have to babysit her.”

Haris did not look at me, but I knew what he was thinking. There was no force on earth short of Death that would make him leave me alone with Anarin.

I didn’t blame him for not trusting me, I just found him to be an irritating inconvenience. “She’s happier, doing this work,” I said, quiet. “Did she do anything like this in Kressos, or did you and Emiran keep her cooped up like a nightingale on a gold chain?”

Haris did not visibly bristle, but a muscle in his jaw tightened. “A man died in a tavern, a few nights back,” he said. “Poisoned.” His eyes slid to me. “I don’t suppose you would know anything about that.”

“I’m hardly the only person who knows how to brew poisons, Mr. Haris,” I said coolly. “Why should I harm someone so inconsequential?”

“Yes,” he said, “why would you?”

A tugging on my skirt drew my attention, and Veland held onto my knees. “Auntie,” he said, “do I have to practice my writing today?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Did your mother say you had to?”

He screwed up his face in a frown, and I laughed. “Bring me your notebook. We’ll practice writing your name and a few other words.”

Haris looked no more pleased about this than he did about anything else. I knew he was fond of the boy, but this jealousy was childish. I left him by the door to settle by the fire with Veland. His handwriting was getting a little better, in that fewer of his letters were backwards. I gave him a sentence to write down, would correct his letters, and have him write it again.

Veland gripped his charcoal stick tightly, frowning in concentration as he wrote. I cleaned my tools while he did so, to keep my hands busy.

“Auntie,” Veland said, looking up, “why do some people write, and some people don’t?”

I glanced at him, and considered my answer. “Some people, like the Hasi,” I said, nodding at him, “focus their time on memory, so that they remember messages and stories correctly, even a long time later. Others spend that time on learning to write, so that things can be written down and kept, and you don’t have to remember them exactly. One isn’t better than the other, but if you only know one, it’s hard to move between the two. Do you understand?”

Veland thought for a bit, and nodded. “I guess so.”

Anarin found us by the hearth, and put her hand on Veland’s cheeks and pressed a kiss into his hair. “Time to go, Puppy,” she said, and seeing his work, she smiled at me. “Thank you, Lady Tyna.”

I nodded, and glanced away.

#

Some young men are given to racing elk during the rut, when the bulls are so riled they would run thrice around the world and still be unwilling to stop. I didn’t think anything of it, when I saw a handful of young men placing flags around the edges of the empty fields, setting the course for a race. I thought nothing of it when I saw a few brave young soldiers and Sarenn boys gathering their elk, each shaking heads and snorting, pawing at the ground with short ribbons tied into their antlers.

Thought nothing of it, until I saw a scarlet scarf wrapped over a head of black hair perched lightly on that demon of a bull I would have known anywhere. Emiran and Haris were nowhere to be found—the sly witch had given them the slip, and sat among all these cocky young men with her chin held high and the reins tight in her fists.

I felt out of place among the many men and the young girls that had slipped away from their mothers to watch, but I had seen elk races before, and horse races in Azira. I knew how badly they could go awry, and my heart hammered in my chest seeing Anarin there. I heard the muttering, people wondering what the commander’s woman was about, even though they must have seen her running the beast ragged a dozen or more times.

I held onto the branches of a weather-worn apple, foot levied against the roots so that I could see above the crowd. The elk were brought into line, stamping impatiently and bugling. Someone gave a blast on a horn, and the muddy snow was tossed up behind them with the impact of a dozen cannonballs.

A ribbon of scarlet out behind her, that was how I tracked Lya, bent low between the arcing prongs of Bili’s antlers.

She had been a girl once. That thought rang in my head like the pealing of a Kressosi temple bell. She had been a girl. When I had met her uncle, Benwulf, he had spoken of his niece, half-wild, who played cards and raced her father’s elk. The memory had needled itself into my brain because of how much I disliked the man when he had made a comment about the kind of husband it would take to tame a girl like that.

Five bulls pulled away from the main pack, Anarin’s among them.

A coal in my chest burned at the thought of what she had been sent away to, the things that had forced her to become small and meek. That was why she liked that demon bull, why she indulged his wilder tempers. She would not beat the wild out any creature like men had tried to beat the wild out of her.

The course took a sharp turn, and I watched Bili leap, twisting in the air so that he was just that little bit further ahead, powerful back legs propelling him forward. Anarin had tied no ribbons on his antlers—she had painted them, a fierce bloody red, tipped in white. There were just three of them in the lead now, one stripling of a boy in a Kressosi uniform and one slightly older Sarenn, with a bright red beard. But I could tell, even then, that their bulls did not have the sheer fury in them that Bili did. He was younger, the scale of his ribs greater. The steaming breath of those bulls whipped out behind them like wildfire smoke.

My knuckles were white around the limb of the tree to which I clung, watching them. I wanted to have known her, the feral girl who had been too big for the men around her. I wanted to have known Anarin when she was still more wolf than woman. I wanted to see her, sixteen and besting every man in Arborhall who wanted to race an elk.

Another corner, this under the boughs of an aged fir that snagged Anarin’s scarf, tearing it from her head. The scarlet ribbon fluttered in the wake of the passing bulls, and clung to the branch that had claimed it.

There is a sound, to the closing stretch of a race. The pounding of cloven hooves. The heaving of lungs. That faded from my mind as I saw Anarin’s face come into view.

I had seen her composed, seen her angry but contained. I think I had even seen her afraid. Now I saw her with her lips curled back in a snarl, thick strands of black hair come loose from her braid and whipping her face, fists white-knuckled around the reins, no trace of the demure mistress, of the soft and doting mother. My heart soared for reasons I could hardly bring myself to name.

The other two bulls began to lag, and Anarin whipped Bili harder.

It is hard to describe the sight as I saw it, the red paint on Bili’s antlers, the way Anarin’s hair—so quickly falling out of its braid—streamed out behind her, the clods of mud tossed up behind them. A woman half-wild.

They thundered past the last pair of flags to a cheer, and I abandoned the tree, pushing my way out of the crowd as Bili slowed, and Anarin circled back, sitting a little straighter, an exhilarated smile on her face, lit up from within like a midsummer bonfire. I couldn’t help but echo it, a strange light feeling in my chest.

I meant to call out to her, to share even a little of her joy—and that was when I noticed Emiran.

He came riding toward her, a look on his face that I knew from other men. Anarin saw him too, and I saw her smile wilt like flowers in a drought. The light feeling in my ribs turned to stone.

Emiran caught Bili’s reins, and bowed his head to speak to Anarin so that they would not be overheard, but I could imagine well enough what he was saying from the way the fight went out of Anarin, and something like embarrassment filled her frame.

I thought that might be the end, everything I had just seen in her would be buried once more.

I don’t know what Emiran said, but Anarin stiffened and jerked back, and Bili snorted and tossed his head, shoving back Emiran’s gelding. Anarin spurred Bili to a trot, and cut across the course to the tree where her scarf hung. She yanked it from the boughs, the pretty thing I knew that Emiran had bought for her, and tied it over her undone hair. She looked half a witch, and the barely concealed scowl on her face made people keep away from her as she returned.

“Sargis!” I called.

Her head turned, and I saw some of the anger ease out of her face. “Lady Tyna,” she said, pulling Bili to a stop. “I didn’t know you were here.”

I went up to her, staying clear of the bull’s head, as he panted and snorted. “You’re insane,” I said, “but that was amazing.”

Lya smiled. “I’m sure to pay for it, but thank you.”

I put a hand on her leg before she pulled away from me. “Lya,” I said, my voice soft. “Please at least wait until you’re no longer pregnant to do something like that again. I want to see you race, but—that was very dangerous.”

She looked at me oddly, and after a moment, she nodded. “I will. You can’t much race during the winter, anyway.” Her eyes flicked toward Emiran, and her lips twitched as she tried to hold back a grimace. “Please tell everyone at the lodge I won’t be able to visit them today.”

I nodded. “You’ll be missed.”

There was such immense sadness in her eyes, when I said that. She only gave me an expression that was more grimace than smile, and clucked her tongue to Bili. The bull gave a great snort and walked to Emiran, who was watching me coldly. I hugged my arms across my chest and met his gaze, hating him and everything that he was.

Anarin went away with him, and if I was glad of anything, it was that I didn’t see her head bow as she rode away.

#original fiction #prose #wolf's price

[kissmekissme-calum]

A Hero To Us All - Part 2- Poe Dameron X Reader

Word Count : 1.8K

Part 1 is here!

Part 2 to A Hero To Us All. Hope you enjoy, please like and reblog if you enjoyed, send me ideas for more, if you want a part 3, be sure to let me know! Thank you all!

Reqested by many :)

-

After a week in the medbay you were released but that didn’t mean Poe was going to let you go back into action anytime soon, not that you could as you were still on crutches and had episodes of pain. Poe was still filling you in on what he had been up to while you were away on your mission, only he had kept a few small details to himself. For now anyways.

You had finally been able to meet Finn and Rey even though when you asked how they’d met, none of them gave you a believable answer. Poe only said he’d tell you later. After the tenth time or so of him telling you that, you finally snapped on him.

“Poe, tell me what happened? You seem to like both Finn and Rey, I like them too from what I can see, even though there’s something about Rey that I can’t quite place but, as for Finn, that comes to you! What happened? Why are you so scared to tell me?”

Poe sighed as you two entered your shared room so you could rest up again. “I went to Jakku.” You nodded, you’d been told about that part of the mission. “Got the map, gave it to BB-8 and sent him to wait for me.”

“Why?”

Poe closed his eyes tight, clearly he was fighting back something that you couldn’t quite place, it looked like he was trying to push a memory out, a memory he didn’t like. “The First Order was there.”

Your crutches had fallen to the ground and you leaned against the wall, a hand over your heart. You were not told about the First Order being involved.

“They killed Lor San Tekka, after he’d given me the map and I gave that to BB-8. I tried to shoot Kylo Ren but he froze me, and then brought me aboard his ship.”

Forgetting temporarily about your injuries, you trudged over to Poe, falling as you got close to him but he picked you up in his arms, holding you close, tears had already formed in your eyes. “You were captured?” Your voice didn’t project, Poe strained to hear you even as close as you were.

“Yes, but Finn, he was a storm trooper, he rescued me. Got me out of there in a tie fighter, we crashed and I got back to the Resistance, then Finn returned a couple days later with Rey and BB-8.”

“He rescued BB-8 as well?”

“Rey did, she found him and with Finn’s help, they got to us. She’s getting ready to leave soon actually, to find Luke Skywalker and bring him back to help us take down Kylo Ren. R2 woke up and showed us the rest of the map. (YN), will you look at me? I’m back safe, they didn’t hurt me too bad.”

“But they still did!”

“(YN)!” his hands gently caressed your face, his eyes boring into yours. “Just as you said, you did it for the Resistance! May not have gone the way we wanted but it happened and it worked out! We hoped for it to work, it did. Hope really has helped build this Resistance, we’re both proof of that.”

“I don’t like thinking of you getting hurt, did Kylo hurt you? What did he do to you? I’ll kill him.”

“No, you won’t. I know you have hard feelings towards him, more than many here, but right now we just have to take it slow. We’ll take them down soon, don’t worry. Can you tell me something though?” He lead you over to the bed so that you could get off your pained leg.

“What?” you grunted, scooting yourself to the head of the bed, sighing as Poe placed a pillow under your leg to keep it propped up.

“You said something about Rey. Said she looked familiar but couldn’t place it.” You nodded and he went on. “She said pretty much the same thing to Finn, about you. You recognize each other, neither of you remember how, but you both recognize the other. It’s curious to everyone, even the General’s tried to find a connection but she’s come up short too.”

That had come up in your head multiple times since being introduced to her, there was just something about her that made a spark go off in your head, but nothing came up clear, you knew there was something and now that she could see it too, it made the mystery even bigger. “I don’t know honestly, Poe, I’ve tried searching my head and nothing appears. I think it may be, that I recognize her face, but not how it is now.”

“Like a younger version? You remember her younger? How can that be?” He was now massaging your feet and muscles, it felt like heaven. “You used to live on Jakku yourself, maybe you saw her around the city or something.”

Instantly, your head became a circus. Thought after thought spun around, it was a madhouse, memories of you growing up, your parents doing anything they could to get you to make them money for alcohol. Sending you out with your younger sibling, she was smaller, she could fit into more places than you could which meant a better chance of finding something more valuable and making more money so that your parents had booze to drown their yells down til they fell asleep. Your sibling, much younger than you, didn’t look a thing like you, but you were blood. You had a connection that no other siblings could possibly have, or so you thought.

Years of these memories showed up, constantly that little girl showed up, a little older in some memories, then the most frightening day of all, worst memory anyone could possess.

Your parents had run their course with the First Order, they no longer cared about the pitiless objects they were given for weapons, that did them no good, so your parents did the only thing they could think of, they sold you and your sister. To the junker, make him money for no reason.

“Mom! Dad!” you had screamed, clutching at your sister, trying to keep the junker from touching her. “Come back!” They may not have been the best parents, but they somehow managed to keep a roof over your head, with them gone and under the ownage of a junker, who knew what would become of your life.

“Come back!” your little sister yelled as the ship carrying your parents took off, not long before they were out of the planet, the little dot that was their ship, disappeared like a popped balloon. They were now gone.

“Quiet girl!” the junker yelled and grasped your sister’s arm, dragging her to his shop.

“Let her go!” you screamed, trying to tug him away from her. No one was going to take her from you, not now, she was all that you had. She was your last family member you cared about. “Get your hands off of her!”

The junker kept a hand on her and used his free arm to hit you square in the chest, sending you flying back.

“(YN)!” the little girl was now shouting with tears streaming down her face. “Sister!”

The junker dragged her back and hovered over you, a nasty smile on his face. “You weren’t sold to me girl, just this one! Get out of here, off this planet.”

“Not without my sister!”

Another smack to the face, your head felt heavy, you couldn’t lift it off the sand. “I said, leave! She’s not your sister anymore.”

You couldn’t see what he was doing, so you didn’t know he’d called for a couple of thugs to come and get you. “Take her wherever, just get her off of this planet, far from this system. She’ll only be trouble for me if she stays.”

They nodded as he dumped some coins in their hands, they then dragged you to a ship. Your last glance was of your sister, still crying as she was pulled, you couldn’t hear her but you were sure she was yelling your name.

The door of the ship closed in front of you, tears now flowing down your own face. “I’ll come back for you, Rey! They won’t keep me from you, I promise! I believe that!”

For what felt like the thousandth time that day, a blow to your head knocked you out cold. That blow alone put you in a coma for months. When you woke up, you didn’t know where you were or why you were there. You didn’t know a thing about yourself.

“Are you okay? I’m here to save you.”

You were in a musty old cell, your eyes opened to see a middle aged woman staring straight back at you.

“Who are you?” your voice was weak.

She smiled. “I’m General Leia Organa, it’d be a pleasure to have you join the Resistance. You look like you could be of help to us.”

You didn’t know why, but you nodded hard, you knew that you had a reason, more so than just doing the right thing. You grabbed her hand. “It’d be my pleasure, General, count me in!”

-

“(YN)! (YN)!”

You snapped out of your haze, staring into your husbands, deep chocolate brown eyes, they were wide and his hands were on your shoulders, shaking you back to your senses.

“I now know.”

“What?”

You smiled and placed a hand on Poe’s arm. “Rey, I now know why I recognize her.”

“Why?” He relaxed back now that you were back in the present moment with him.

“Poe, Rey’s my…”

The door to your shared room opened and Finn and Rey burst in, for some reason, this didn’t surprise you. Finn looked out of breath while Rey had a look of purpose and understanding and relief on her face. She met your glance and gave you a wide smile.

Poe and Finn glanced at each other before back at you girls.

“What’s going on?” Finn asked.

Poe shrugged. “I wish I knew.”

You smiled. “Help me stand Poe?”

He did as you asked and you hobbled over to Rey, instantly pulling her into a huge hug that lasted forever.

“I missed you.” She mumbled, tears in her eyes, sobs threating her speech.

Your arms held her close. “I know I missed you too.”

“You never came back.”

“Something happened that made me forget.”

“Same here.”

“What’s going on?” Finn asked again, a look of peaked interest on his face.

You and Rey shared a long look when you pulled back from the hug. “I was just telling Poe when you guys came in.” You released one hand and grabbed Poe’s pulling him close to you and Rey. “Poe, this is Rey.”

“Yeah….”

You pressed a finger to his lips.

“What’s…?” Finn tried but you sent him a look that shut him up instantly.

“Boys, this is Rey. She’s my sister.”

#star wars imagines #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #star wars preferences #star wars drabble #drabble #imagines #poe dameron #poe #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron drabble #myspacepilotpoe

[cythoughtsnmemories]

25.10.20

Ytd high tea was funny and full

Should have ask if anyone can help collected d balloons instead of me thinking I would not have issue brining it to d venue. Going into d lift was an issue already. Joke 😂 Lucky d bride ask if I want to meet to take train. So we meet at tap out area. She said take Grab immediately she saw d balloons 😂😂😂

Didn't expect d high tea to be so filling. It's pretty good~ 1St time trying Peranakan high tea.

Idk why but I miss my bf... probably having too many plans and d gap meeting him seems so far. Yay~ meeting my honey later.

Honestly I can't wait to see if we worked out after argument. Sent him a IG video of couple playing Overcooked 😂 and d couple was arguing w vulgarity 😂 n d gf is so pissed.

I definitely deserve a pat on my shoulder for completing d grand course. Told babe idw play d Tarzan stn and that happened to be my 1st stn. F**k 😂 Scream like Tarzan lor hahaha~ after 2.5hrs of stressful exercise, I don't even feel hungry anymore. Had dinner at Nangfa kitchen and I would say d portion is slightly more and taste stronger than Nakhon.

[sqgifs]

When I was 17 (that’s way back in 2004) I had a friend visit my parents and I from the USA. She was I believe 23? She was doing some volunteer work. At the time of her visit I lived in Romania (for those of you who do not know that’s in Eastern Europe and we were a communist country until 1989 - and no communism is not fun or good but that’s another story). Anyway my US friend, she was from Michigan, stayed with us for a few weeks. One night we decided to go out. A few minutes in our walk my american friend started screaming that someone is trying to shoot me. I looked at her really confused because what? She pointed to my chest where there was the red dot from a laser. I just rolled my eyes and said “it’s fine it’s just someone playing with a toy”. She started to panic that I was not taking the “threat” serious, especially since it pointed at my forehead at one point. The laser pointer moved to her than to the floor. She breathed a sigh of relief. She asked me how I can be so calm and relaxed and I told her laser pointers are a new gimmick for some and besides no one owns guns in Romania. I only saw a gun once in my life and that was an uncle who is a cop.

A year later we had another friend from the USA stay with us and she said “Oh we don’t lock our doors. We have a gun.” My parents reaction was a major WTF LOCK YOUR DAMN DOOR.

You see I grew up in a country where’s gun control. Right now I live in a country that has gun control. I’m not freaking out about someone coming into my church or in a movie theater to open gun fire on me. There’s a higher chance of me dying in an earthquake than a gun related incident (then again earthquakes are frequent had 3 over 6.0 in the last 5 years - but that’s putting stuff in perspective.)

Gun control actually works. Yes it’s true if criminals want guns they will have guns and if they want to kill they will kill. The scope of gun control is not to ban weapons but put restrictions in place as to whether one can own a gun and what one can own. Let’s not give insane people the tools to kill and injure other people. It’s not that I couldn’t own a gun in Romania or  that I can’t own a gun where I live now. I can. I just don’t want to. Why would I need a gun. Why would anyone need a gun? The only thing I have near my bed is a pair of shoes, a head lamp and a bottle of water (all in case of an earthquake). I don’t need a gun. No one needs a gun. No one needs a riffle and definitely no one needs a semi-automatic or automatic weapon. Why would anyone even want that lor need one?

I have a feeling that the people that hold on so much on not having gun control are afraid that maybe once the requirements come they won’t be able to own one. And again why does anyone need semi and automatic weapons? Why? Why do Americans still have a wild west mentality?

#gun control

[ohtobeaspettyasleah]

how long does it take for Lorelei and Gray to meet? And how did he react when Ethan told him about the new assistant situation? :)

Grayson’s Phone rang out on the living room table as he helped Lisa move her vanity around upstairs, missing the facetime call Ethan was begging he’d answer. “Shit” was all he said when the called died out. No answer. Ethan placed his phone back into his back pocket-- trying to figure out how exactly he was gonna word this to stop his brother from going off the deep end at him. His phone pinging not too long after, not Grayson, but Lorelei. 

Lorelei Figgs: You never mentioned a time for tomorrow so is it okay if I come over around 9? I can come anytime! Just seemed like a good time.”

Ethan Dolan: fuck sorry, yeah come round at 9. Trying to call Gray now and tell him what’s up.

Lorelei sat in her bed up against her headboard. Her pillows shoved down behind her back, oxygen being blown into her lungs generously as she typed away on her laptop. The one Ethan had given her. Setting up her google docs and organising personal information she sometimes forgot. If Lorelei wasn’t a highly functioning over analyser, she never would’ve seconds guessed Ethans tone. She always did that, tried to read her text as if someone was speaking to her in person. 

Lorelei Figgs: Does he not know? 

Ethan Dolan: Not exactly, but we’re good. Trust the process Lore. ill see you tomorrow.

Ethan had always been a firm believer in manifesting possibilities, goals and overall events you wanted to see play out in life. But unfortunately, he hadn’t even had a chance to think about manifesting the idea Grayson would loose his absolute shit when the time came for the boot to drop. It was time: his phone was ringing. Facetime call from Gray. 

“Yo bro, I was helping ma with her vanity what’s up?” Grayson looked rough. His facial hair had grown rugged. Not kept. The blue flannel was probably a mere three seconds away from falling off his back-- having not changed properly in days. Sure, he showered and changed his underwear-- but that was about the extent of it. His hair was greasy, slicked. Ethan could clearly see the shin. 

“Don’t get pissed.”

“What did you go? Ethan--”

“Nothing! Nothing just-- well, I hired that girl, the friend of Adele’s? She starts tomorrow and--” 

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ETHAN!!” Grayson screamed with a groan so guttural it made Ethan kinda flinch. “We’re a fucking TEAM!”

“Well, okay look it was cute and needed when you left but it’s kinda hard to make team decisions when you’re not fucking here bro, ever think of that?” Ethan retaliated with a sigh. “Just meet her bro.” 

“Why the fuck would you do that without me bro, Jesus, that’s it, I’m coming home.” Ethan tried to hide his smile. Deep down he’d missed Grayson although he’d try twist reality to suit the ideology that it was Grayson who missed him. 

“I’ll book you a flight. When for?” 

“We have a fucking assistant for that shit Ethan get what’s her name to do it!! The next one out, text me later I’m gonna pack my fucking bags.” when Grayson hung up Ethan could tell he was in fact-- Pissed. But as his smile grew with the idea of his brother coming home he knew the anger would fade. All he had to do was meet Lorelei. 

Grayson kept his rage built up within him the entire trip home, including in the car ride back from LAX to home. Ethan coped an ear full the entire ride home, good thing he didn’t have to drive-- forever thankful for the technology of autopilot. He swore with the way Grayson was bitching in his ear about being left out of important decisions like hiring a new assistant, Ethan would’ve driven straight into a wall if he had control. 

“Is she at ours?” Grayson hissed. 

“With Mando yeah, she’s working, Mando was going through the DT productions laptop with her, Sharing the docs with her email-- you know shit I should be doing but I had to come pick your bitch ass up.”

“Wouldn’t be back if you hadn’t hired a new assistant without me--” Grayson grumbled. 

“Good well, she’s already doing a great fucking job isn’t she because she got nature-loving tree kissing wild boy back to L.A.” Grayson glared-- furious. 

“She’s fired the moment I walk in the door bro-- you don’t get to make these decisions without me!!” 

“Grayson you cant fire her I fucking hired her yesterday! We need an assistant.”

“Yeah well we’ll figure it out together but this ones on you-- fire her, refire someone else together! Because this is always- always something we do together Ethan, no ifs or buts and the idea you just couldn’t pick up the fucking phone and ask me beforehand is infuriating!!” it was one of the top ten heated arguments Ethan and Grayson had ever had in the Tesla. Not the car-- just the Tesla. Different top tens. 

“I didn’t want to bother you, bro! Fuck! I needed you here but you needed jersey a little more and I didn’t wanna bother you with work. We were on a break, relaxing.”

“Well look what good that did! I’m here! I’m back! I’m the bad guy because I gotta fix your mess--!”

“WHAT MESS!”

“WHATEVER HER NAME IS!” 

Ethan didn’t respond. deciding to give up and give in. his head hurt from the shouting. He had a feeling, deep down, that Grayson would calm down. He always calmed down-- he was angry, hurt even, that Ethan had left him out of such an important decision, but he’d get over it. And he did. Very quickly. The second he saw Lorelei.

Ethan delta quick change in atmospheric pressure as she walked in behind Grayson-- now standing still at the door. Swallowing thick as he stared. He hated that he was this way around girls he thought were pretty. But he couldn’t help it. 

“Lori, Grayson, Gray? This is Lori--”

“Grayson, its actually so good to meet you! I was pretty bumbed out when Ethan said you were still in Jersey when i came over for my interview thingo-- but hey.” She stood, lifting her arm and extending her hand to shake his. Grayson mimicked her actions. 

“Lori, its uh, yeah no its good to meet you too, thanks for uh-- coming on board so quick, we can get a little stressed out when someone isn’t here to deal with, with like meetings and schedules and shit like that.” Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath as he watched Grayson stagger over his words. Night and day from the man who sat brooding in his passanger seat. 

“Well like i was saying to Ethan yesterday i might not have too much experience but im pretty stoked with the opportunity.” it washer eyes that had him right from the get go. Eyes that swirled in different shades or brown-- melting together to create a perfect deep brown that made them seem doe like. Beautiful. 

“Experience can only be taught, everyone’s gotta stare somewhere right.” Grayson smiled. Lorelei chuckled. Mando side eyed Ethan and Ethan almost wheezed. 

“Alright alright, Gray go shower and fucking shave, Lor imma show you how to set up in the podcast room works.” 

“Cool, i’m keen, ill move my stuff down there then, brought a note book to write stuff down.” she pressed her lips together nervously Grayson watched as her hand patted the hard cover diary that she held before watching her pick up her coffee cup. Mando had already beaten both Ethan and Grayson to showing Lori how the coffee machine worked. Knowing that when everyone was working? Sometimes no one had a chance to even make it. Grayson stood still and sighed, knowing the roast was coming. 

“Dude--”

“Don’t even start E--”

“I’m sweating, your so awkward bro, what the fuck was that!” Ethan laughed as he covered his mouth. His cheeks red. “Bro--”

“She, her eyes got me shut up, i couldn’t think”

“So she isn’t fired? Just so we’re clear on this decision together? Not fired?” Mando furrowed his brows, wondering what type of question that was as Grayson trudged down the hall with his bag. Groaning: 

“This cannot be happening”

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #dolan twins #g.dolan #my friend lorelei

[foreverrj]

Star Wars Episode 9:Restored Hope: Part 1(Chpt.3)( Fan Fic to finish right)

Act 2-B (previous parts below)

Kylo Ren and Fallon Doroceses are in Kylo’s throne room. Fallon is Kneeling before Kylo. Kylo is examining and holding Darth Vader's lightsaber gazing in awe. Kylo says to Fallon “Please stand, tell me where you got this, bringing it here brings great value to me.” Fallon rises to his feet and says “ Thank you Supreme Leader. I was the only force user among my people, Snoke felt my connection to the force.

 He said he would teach me the ways and gain complete understanding. As a boy, he sent me to Lor San Tekka to gain his trust and Knowledge of the force.

Lor also looked for ancient relics.” Kylo quickly notes “ That he did, continue.” Fallon proceeds “ So when I traveled with him and the others we encountered dark side worshipers that had the lightsaber. 

Snoke told me to get it. For their beliefs, they were going to kill us. I killed them First with the force. Lor band me from the church. He said if it was the will of the force to die we should accept it. I told him me being there was the will of the force. I took the lightsaber and returned to Snoke. Many years later he sensed you. He told me to complete my training in the unknown regions. He told me to take it and If I did not return it intact I failed.” Kylo says “He’s the only that failed.”

They walk down a corridor to a room that had relics and souvenirs that the First Order and Kylo have obtained. Kylo walks over to the display holder and gently places the lightsaber in it. Placed right next to Vader's helmet and mask.

Kylo Ren says to Fallon “A few years ago I told someone to let the past die. I believe in that. But I believe Vader....my grandfather had it right. Fear and control brings peace to the galaxy. It’s the ones with the ideals of freedom and democracy believing it’s the natural way, it only breeds chaos. That is the old beliefs that needs to die.” Fallon says “To preserve whatever life and belief you're trying to hold close to you we need to fight what’s coming.” Kylo ask “What’s coming?”

Fallon answers, “ The monsters that came from the blackness beyond our galaxy. They were the ones that scarred Snoke and developed his strength in the force. I was just a boy when I came to be under Snoke. One time during my training, developing my ways in the force, The First Order was still in its infancy after its fall from the empire. I asked our master how did he become deformed. He told me eons ago he was on his own path of true knowledge of the force. He came from a vast powerful empire in the unknown regions. They knew of the inner rim but content with their peace and ways. 

He was the only force user throughout the empire. He did not want the teachings of Sith or Jedi and he knew of them both. He left the kingdom and traveled the galaxy. He said he had an awakening. The force lead him to the ends of the galaxy believing he would receive all the knowledge he would need. He encountered something aberrant.  

Snoke made contact with a new a race. He came with the intentions of peace. They came with the intentions of death.

He told me they captured him and tortured him, in the name of their gods.  They saw his power of the force and his use of technology to be unnatural. He was first in their sacrifice in that region. Their conquest for slaughter and mayhem began. 

Their onslaught ravaged his empire. His ways in the force did not affect them but his powers grew. Sometime later his people did rescue him. But he his appearance was his lesser-self but his power in the force grew to be unmatched. 

They decimated all he knew. He knew his power wasn’t enough. He felt Vader’s. He thought with Vader being more machine than man his connection to the force through his rage was raw power. Vader and the empire fell and he knew his thoughts would not match with Luke’s. But he knew you could be modeled into the weapon and power he needed. Being a descendant of Vader.  I was rare for the region but I wasn’t unique. He needed you.” Kylo looks at Fallon with an inquisitive look. Fallon continues “ I have encountered those monsters. I have been fighting them over the years with an unlikely alliance. They’re coming. You must put this current war aside and prepare to fight this greater threat. I have the knowledge and the tactics.

You have the army and if we prepare now we have a chance to combat them. There is an ancient artifact that has all the knowledge of the force. Once we obtain that, all our goals are attainable” Kylo says “ I have to finish what I started first. I have goals to complete to make the galaxy complete.” Fallon says “ Your trading one chaos for another.” Kylo  replies “ That may be so, they will all know my rule sooner or later.” A voice from the intercom contacts Kylo “ Supreme Leader you are receiving a transmission from one of your followers.” Kylo replies “ Send it through.” The hologram appears and it is one of the Knights of Ren.

The Knight says “ Master after all this time searching the galaxy we found them. in the  Devaron system at an ancient Jedi temple. What is thy bidding master? Kylo answers “ Wait for re-enforcements and my arrival nothing before then. I shall arrive momentarily.”

Rose and Poe arrive at Maz Kanata’s castle. Rose looks at the surroundings in amazement. Poe looks around him impressed. He says  “ Maz never ceases to amaze me.” Rose says “Maz sent us on a Faither chase we didn't get that code breaker only trouble, you sure we can trust her?” Poe answers “ Well Rose she is a lot of things, but I can say this, she is a citizen of the galaxy, well versed in so much. Finn told me that chase wouldn’t have happened if you didn't get sidetracked by the Faithers.” Rose scrunches her face and they enter in the cantina seeing it bustling with all kinds of life.

Maz walks up and greets Poe and Rose.

Maz says “Hello Poe my old friend. You didn’t bring that war here with you this time?” Poe answers “No Maz only an inquisitive mind, and my friend Rose.” Maz gets close to Rose and tries to examine Rose and gets in her personal space and Rose looks at her in confusion. Maz says to Poe “ She’s too good for you.” “ Maz it’s not like that” Poe replies. Maz then says to her “ How could you take that smell? I never understood how his mother took his father’s smell.” Poe then says “ Hey now Maz it’s not about me, I make sure my hair is great and I Smell fantastic.” Maz then says to him “ You have your regular human nose. I have my force sensitive nose and the force knows all.” Maz winks at Rose and rose smirks at her. Maz says “ For the legendary Captain Poe Dameron of the resistance to visit me It must be important.” Poe looks around skeptically and Bends over to whisper to Maz “Can we talk in a place that is more private?”

They walk over and enter her office. They all sit down. Maz says “ I am willing to help you, Poe, your family and I go way back. But with that being said anything along with this war I cannot be apart of. I have lost too much I am too old to lose any more.” Poe then says “ No Maz that’s why we came on our own. We know you just got this place back up. But we need information and location. Our friend Finn was taken by the First Order we are trying to get him back.” She rubs her Chin contemplating how to answer. She says “ I don’t know much but I know someone who can help.” She presses the button on the intercom and says “ My magnificent mountain of an ewok, can you bring in the asset?” Rose and Poe look at each other with a questionable expression. 

Chewbacca walks in the room with a man with a cloth bag over his head. Poe shouts “CHEWIE!?” Then Chewbacca gives out a growl that is muttering with joy. Chewbacca pushes the man on the floor forcefully on the floor.

 Poe says to Chewbacca “It’s been far to long old man, we’re missing you out on that battlefield. This where you went off to?” Chewbacca replies in varies moans and growls of what he has been doing. Poe replies “Oh I see, you’re right, we don’t stay young forever, but your legend still echoes across the star ways. Poe leans  into Chewbacca and whispers “ So like you and Maz a thing now?” Maz then says “ He’s my sugar bear.” Chewbacca moves his hand in sorta hand gesture. Poe then says “Oh um, Right on. You guys are kinda old.” Maz then says “ Time is reletive boy, we relatively enjoy our time with one another, isn’t that right my chub wub?” Chewbacca gives a long growl in annoyance.  Maz says “ Yes, Yes let’s proceed. Rose and Poe looking at the bagged man with curiosity. Chewbacca removes the bag from over his head it is revealed to be DJ.

DJ takes a moment to allow his vision to readjust he says  “Wwww Well hello there.” Rose immediately gets angry she shouts “You!” and rushes over to him and punches him in the face and he falls to the ground. Poe grabs her from trying to assault him again. Poe is telling rose to calm down in her ear. Roes calms down and Poe asks “Rose who is this man?”

 She answers “This was the man that betrayed me and Finn to the first order after Canto Bight.” Chewbacca forcefully lifts up DJ from the ground and stands him up.

 Poe walks up to DJ and looks at him face to face and says “You're the reason we lost so many that day. I think Chewie should snap your neck.” Dj replies “No one in this room is blameless.” Poes squints his eyes at him. Poe asks “Maz what is this?” Maz answers “ He’s the someone that can help.” Rose says “No way he’ll jeopardize and damage everything.” Poe then says “Maz I intend to agree.” Maz then says “ He knows more about the First Order more than anybody I know and because of me he is obligated to help you.” Poe asks DJ “ What are you doing here what is she talking about?” Dj answers “I owe Maz a life debt, I rubbed everyone in the galaxy the wrong way. So I came to her for sanctuary. I tried to steal some supplies before going my way, but I got caught and my life debt got enacted and I’m here in fffront of you now. So whatever her bidding is I must do it.” 

Maz then says “ I am the only reason from outlaws, the resistance, and the First order from Killing this man. His bounty would make me the richest being in the galaxy. But I felt the force having a different use for him. Now here we are.” Rose says “ Our friend Finn the one who was with me when you betrayed us, he got captured we want to retrieve him tell us what you know.” DJ says “The is a massive First Order military outpost on the border of the outer rim and the unknown regions. That is where they train their troops, build their fleets and weapons and take their captives. They only have two options for their captives labor or death. I know your friend is pretty high on the ladder so death is definitely on the table. That's where he is.” Maz says to Dj “ Thank you for your cooperation but you’re taking them there.” Dj gets upset and says “Bbbbut Maz I came here to serve drinks and bust tables not venture out!”

Maz says to him “ No you came to serve me.” Maz turns to Poe and rose and says “ I will have him take you to help you get your friend to make up for the all the damage he has done. I’ll have Chewie go with you as well to make sure he lives up to his deal. I’ll also give you a ship, I owe your parents that much.” Poe and Rose say thank you and hugs Maz. 

Maz, Chewie, Poe, Rose, and Dj are at a ship hanger in front of the ship. Poe rose and Dj enters the starship. Chewie and standing next to Maz, she says come here.” He bends over and is face to face with her she rubs his face and says “Come back to me my Fuzzy Dumpling.” He nods in agreement. He lifts her up and they hug.

Maz watches from a distance as they fly off the planet.

[nalgenewhore]

crossing lines - part two

like the teeny tiniest bit NSFW......just a tad 

The sun spilling through the window was what woke him and still half asleep, Lorcan reached across the bed, searching for what, he wasn’t exactly sure. 

When he felt nothing but empty sheets, he slowly sat up, his shoulder stiff and sore. He was alone in his room and he sighed, yawning as he rubbed his eyes and spotted a note with his name on it. 

He moved slowly, not completely conscious. Lorcan picked it up and read, 

L, 

I went home to change and get my wallet, I’ll be back at 9:30 to pick you up

-E

The clock on his desk told him he had six minutes and Lorcan cursed, lunging out of bed. Elide Lochan wasn’t exactly known for her patience and would tear him a new one if he was late to go dress shopping for a dance he asked her to. Or, told her that she was his date. Semantics. 

He hastily tugged on a pair of black jeans, doing his belt up as fast as he could and he grabbed a t-shirt, a plain white one. Lorcan threw his hair up in a messy bun, held together with one of Elide’s scrunchies and he grabbed his leather jacket, nearly forgetting socks before he was shoving on his high-top chucks, once white, but after countless nights out and forgotten moments, they were slightly grey. He sacrificed a few precious seconds to cuff his jeans, Elide would understand. 

Lorcan crashed down the stairs, skittering to a stop when he saw Elide seated at the kitchen bar, slowly sipping on a cup of tea. She looked phenomenal, dressed in a cropped knit sweater and a high waisted plaid skirt, high socks pulled to her mid thigh. 

On her feet she wore a pair of platform Mary Janes, her long hair falling in soft waves down her back. Lorcan was silent as he gazed at her, his heart breaking and growing all at once. Elide turned, her mouth open like she was ready to yell at him to hurry up, but her plump lips, painted a deep burgundy spread into a wide smile, “How often do you spy on me, Salvaterre?” 

Elide slid off the stool, grabbing her keys and phone, waltzing up to him, her legs seeming like they went on for miles. “Kk, we gots to go, lots of shopping to do, Lor.” 

She slipped her hand into his elbow, scrunching her nose up at him, “What are you, deaf? Hi, how are you, why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Because you’re beautiful.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and his eyes widened as she blushed, ducking her head down. 

“Shut up.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“El,” he whined, “I don’t care what dress you choose, just pick one!” 

It had been hours, or so it seemed. She had dragged him behind her to every store possible. Lorcan had never learned more about different fabrics and prints and cuts and slit or no slit, what strap she wanted, what kind of neckline. Elide’s voice, tinged with irritation, “You’re the one who gave me no time to shop!” 

He felt kind of bad. All he had to do was say yes or no, but he usually just said I don’t care. And it was true, he didn’t. None of the dozens of dresses she had tried on felt right. They were too poofy, not poofy enough, too liquidy, too sparkly, he found little details that he didn’t like and decided he didn’t like the entire ensemble. 

Elide was the one who actually had to try on every damned dress and he could tell she was getting more and more tired, every time she slipped her hand into his elbow, she held on a little tighter and walked a little slower. 

The door opened and he heard the sound of fabric swishing, but he didn’t look up from his phone quite yet, busy fighting with Gavriel over text, trying to convince his coach to let him play at next week’s game. 

“Ahem,” Elide said, her hands on her hips when he finally deigned to glance up, flicking his gaze over the dress she wore. 

It was perfect. 

It was blood-red silk, spaghetti straps that attached to triangular shapes covering her chest, the neckline dipping down low, just enough to show some of her ample cleavage. It was tight around her taut stomach and tiny waist, slim around her hips and legs before flowing out gently just above her knees. There was a thigh high slit running up the left side, showing off the lean length of her leg when she walked. 

There was a small train that pooled on the floor behind her and when she spun slowly, he saw that the back dipped down to just above her ass. “I don’t know about-” 

“It’s perfect.” He couldn’t look away, slowly dragging his eyes up her body to meet her gaze, “It’s perfect, El. Get it.” 

A small smile twisted her lips and it was she who looked away first, nodding as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Ok, I’ll get it.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Ten minutes later, Elide was thanking the shop owner while they exited, her paper bag, her dress wrapped in wrapping paper, in Lorcan’s hand. 

“You and your boyfriend have a good day now, love,” the older woman said, her face kind. 

Elide laughed, shaking her head, “Oh, we’re not dating, we’re just friends. Best friends.”

The woman’s smile faded the slightest bit as Lorcan nodded, agreeing to Elide’s statement. “Just friends.” 

“Oh, well, have fun,” she said and she waved as Elide opened the door and they were out on the sidewalk. 

Elide was laughing beside him, “How many times do you think people have said that to us?” 

Too many and yet, not nearly enough because it was clear that Elide still didn’t get it. Not that he could blame her, he’d been in love with her for years and never said a word. He forced a laugh, the sound foreign in his ears, “I don’t know, I wonder why.” 

Elide shot him a quizzical glance, but before he could ask her what, it was gone and she was stopping in front of a store, a wicked glint in her eyes. Elide did not say a word as she dragged him in, letting go of his arm to clap her hands. 

Lorcan looked around and made a noise of protest, “El, why are we here?” he whisper shouted, scowling at her as he blushed, the store filled with lacy undergarments. 

Elide sighed, “None of the ones I have match.” She pouted, fingering a corset, her eyes travelling over everything. 

“And why does that matter? You’re my date and it’s not like we’re gonna fuck,” he shot back at her, gesturing between the two of them. His heart was pounding in his chest and he tried to keep his pulse in check. 

“So? They’re pretty and I want new ones,” she stated, patting his cheek and beckoning him behind her with a single finger. He followed her without question or hesitation, avoiding the gaze of every other person in the shop. “Just sit down in this room, I won’t be long.” 

He sighed and sat down on the plush couch, resigning himself to his fate. The floor-length mirrors on the walls surrounding him and the little pedestal in the middle, as well as the curtained area, told him what this room was. 

Lorcan groaned and dropped his head in his hands. 

He was so, so fucked. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“I just-” whined Elide, looking at herself in the mirror. She was clad in red lace, turning this way and that. “I fucking hate my tits, like, what?” 

It was no secret that Elide was… blessed in the chest department. They had always been above average, but senior year had gifted her with another growth spurt of sorts. Lorcan avoided looking at her now, knowing he wouldn’t be able to control the look in his eyes if he saw her. “What are you talking about?” 

“How have you not noticed? They’re fucking huge,” she cried, cupping them for emphasis. All the blood in his body shot south. 

Gods, he was not a good person. She was his best friend, the girl next door and all he could think about right now was marking her pale skin with handprints and dark hickeys as he bent her over the couch. 

Fuck, he needed to get out of here. Old women, abandoned puppies, warts, he thought as he dug his nails into his palms, waiting until he could stand perfectly normal. Elide turned and stared up at him, her brow quirked up. “And where do you think you’re going?” She cocked her hip to the side, her fingers drumming on the waist band. “We’re not done here.” 

She pointed to the couch and he sat back down, crossing his legs tightly. Elide turned her back to him, scrutinizing the set in the mirror. Lorcan let his eyes travel down her back, the red lace wrapped around her waist before travelling down to her ass. 

His gaze locked onto the curve of her backside, perfectly framed by the red panties. “See something you like?” questioned Elide, a teasing tone in her voice. 

It took everything in him to meet her eyes, willing his face to hide every thought racing through his mind. “The tag is sticking out.” Well, that was partly true.

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Tuck it in for me?” 

Lorcan breathed in deeply before slowly standing and walking up behind her, sending a shock through her lower back as his fingers brushed against her skin. “Sorry,” he murmured, tucking the tag back in for her. 

“‘T’s all good,” she replied, her gaze hooded as their eyes met in the mirror. 

It was he who spoke first, “Um, I’m gonna go get us a table at Mistward, alright?” 

Elide nodded vaguely, still holding his stare, “Mm-hmm, sounds good.”

Without another word, he left, clenching his jaw. 

What the fuck was that?

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan was on his third coffee when Elide finally arrived, dropping down in the seat across from him, a little paper bag with ribbon handles placed on the table between them. 

It seemed whatever had happened was forgotten as she plucked his cup from his hands and sipped, making a disgusted face, “Ugh, I forgot you drank coffee. Can you fetch me a tea, love?” 

Although it was phrased as a question, it was nothing of the sort, it was a command and Lorcan stood, smiling despite himself. “Yeah, one sec.” 

“Ooh,” she exclaimed, popping her chin on her fist, “a cranberry-orange muffin would be amazing as well.” She crossed her left leg over her right and swung her foot, smiling lazily up at him. 

“You’re lucky I like you so much,” Lorcan commented as he backed away and turned, walking up to the counter. He heard Elide’s tinkling laughter behind him and couldn’t stop the smile that grew. 

The barista called for the next person and he stepped forward, “Hey.” 

“Hi, what can I get for you today?” 

He perused the menu, but it was unnecessary, “I’ll get a sixteen ounce Earl Grey and do y’all got cranberry-orange muffins today?” 

The barista smiled at him, his voice smooth and even, “Yeah, want that warmed up?” 

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Lorcan pulled out his wallet, “I think that’s all for now, man.” 

“Perfect and it’s for here, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding his head. “And it’s on card, please.” 

“Alright,” the barista, his name tag reading ‘Nox’, turned the tablet over to Lorcan, indicating where he could pay, “go for it.” 

Lorcan tipped and paid the man, moving to stand by the pick-up counter, accepting the muffin set on a little round plate. He took it back to Elide, who had her eyes closed and her face tipped to the sun. “El,” he said, putting her muffin down in front of her. He didn’t sit, simply stood up straight and went to lean against the wall by the counter. 

A few moments later, a familiar body, one he knew nearly as well as his own, slid up beside him. Elide tucked herself into his side, her fingers toying with the silver chain around his neck. Lorcan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and folded her in, her forehead resting against his sternum, his chin on her head. 

He felt her smile into his chest and she fingered the zipper on his jacket.

 “Lorcan, you know that I love you, right?” she whispered. 

“Yeah, I know, I know that,” he responded, not letting his broken soul shine through his voice, “Love you too.” 

@myfeyrelady​ @schmlip-scribble​ @kandasboi​ @the-regal-warrior​ @westofmoon​ @empire-of-wildfire​ @rhysands-highlady​ @city-of-fae​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tangledraysofsunshine​ @ttakeitbacknoww​ @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @lizzziebear @bamchickawowow​ @la7sorcellerie​ @julemmaes​ @welcometothespeaknowworldtour​ 

#crossing lines #cl 2 #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore #hmmmm we almost there i think

[24jnxh]

Life Story #274

This is truly an insane conversation on 28 August 2017 at my workplace. We were talking about SO then she say "她人很好是不是?" Then I am like "是啊 她还请我喝水." Then manager say "那你说你怕她?" Then I was saying "我没有怕她." Then she make me laugh is "真的吗 我看我要找回那个短信了." Then I explained myself for that meaning, legit laugh out loud. But on 28 August 2017, I'm happy because my manager saw me she smile at me and that smile is somehow I hardly get to see it, and she smile say "你很有空啊" then I replied her "Ya lor, you put me 2 days off I also don't know what to do." Hahaha! Today, I think the 3 of us at store gone insane. Either talk to ourselves, or went high to don't know like what siao people want. But still, working at own outlet is the best one. So, I wished to move to a next day. 29 August 2017, is a day where I don't wished to remember. During 11 plus when I'm at store, 12 plus clearing the flowthrough for my morning colleague. When my colleague is doing GRN, I want to learn therefore I took my phone when I was to unlock, I saw a text from my biological mum that my dog has passed on. That moment I don't dare to move and trying to control my whole emotions. Then, when my colleague counted the closing money is and do closing there is a short of cash, so she count again and she asked me to go over her side, just nice manager and that guy came back, the guy talked so loudly like he is the high rank or in-charged the store. I don't want hear his voice of arguement, I went to toilet and cried. Knowing that my morning colleague voices out and tell him don't anyhow come and disturb me because something is pissing me off already. I'm super thankful for this colleague. Evening timing, I went back to store because when I'm homed I realize I brought my store the penknife back home once again. So, I did not apologize to my manager for giving blackface when she is back, but I bought her milk tea, I'm not sure does she understand what I mean. Manager, forgive me. I know I need to control my own emotions and deal with it properly but not showing black face, but thank you for always being so understanding towards me. Manager, I'm so sorry for always doing the not right thing but yet you always bear with me, I'm literally thankful for you being my manager. 29 August 2017, is a day where I don't wish to remember and face it. My poor dog, has left my family and I. Let's jump to 2 Sept 2017, I was in charged for the cigarette key and helping my manager to look after the store a little. And she did mentioned on 4 Sept 2017, return her the key but then I thought she forgot to take it from me but in actual fact she actually leave it for me to use when she is not around. Thank you manager for trusting in me. Though I know I did not really did a good job to look after properly but thank you for still trusting in me. Though I not sure what is pissing you off once you are back, but then I hope you can don't treat me so cold it literally upsets me when I'm trying to care for you but yet you like treating me like so cold just like I've offended you. So on 9 Sept 2017, I went back store to take my stuff and return the shortage cash money. My manager like still attitude and like unhappy like that towards me. Then, I just go off afterwards when I start working not long. Properly an hour later my manager appear and boo me but when I turn my head I could not see her until she talked then I realize she is beside me already. Hahaha! What's this? You awhile like okay, but awhile like not okay. Sigh. On 11 Sept, when I reached my workplace, my trainer say "Eh 今天去garden几次都没看到你 还想把你带进来的." Then I told her what happened yesterday, then my manager say "ezlink只有一张而已哦?" Because my manager have 4 ezlink cards that's why she was shock that I only have one and need to pay if I do another want. HAHA! But then suddenly, when stocks come in, she at backroom doing things then I wanted to ask her what to do but she give me the tone like not very good then I'm like in my mind "我又做错了什么 为什么一直对我时好时不理不睬还是对我很冷淡 还想我做错了事让你生气." But of course, I did not tell anyone that ah. But sometimes in my mind, I really wondering about it but no answer to all my question. This is a long update but it is fruitful and yet heartbreaking want too. Awhile happy and awhile not, sometimes I really wished to know what's going on. Why mostly when you oversea or come back from Malaysia you are like that? Is it really PMS? Sigh. Sometimes want to care for you but I end up felt like it's hurting me with your words calling me don't care about you. Want to clear my doubt whether is it you angry with me because I admit things that not I do that's why you treated me cold cold. Sigh, if yes, then I'm so sorry. There is reason behind my doings. I just hope you can understand me one fine day when you truly thought through about it. Finally 13 Sept, you have talked to me properly and a good tone. Thank you so much. Thank you for sharing with me what happened on 12 Sept too. Don't always keep things towards yourself. I understand you might be used to it but then it's not good, okay. Friends here for you for a reason, use them well. If you don't trouble and disturb them, how do you know they are the friends that you can count on when you need help? Manager, when you not in mood, my mood affected because you will treat me cold and like make me feel I did something wrong that's why you like this to me :( Please don't like this to me again can? It can be truly hurting when someone truly treats you as a friend of hers. Life Story World - XH Ng Time Check: 15 Sept 2017/756am

[curios-fables-blog]

Another Dead Messenger

Note: originally posted Dec 30th, 2016 6:32:36pm on my main blog.

Sprinting through the woods, the man had to remind himself not to look back. He could hear the loud CRACK of splintering wood behind him, followed by another and the sound of trees falling. He'd heard the rumors of the giant werewolf that hunted in these woods, and like so many others, he hadn't believed them.

The creature that was after him was truly mountainous, he thought as he shot between two large trees. Seconds later, he heard both of the five-foot trunks splinter behind him. The sound of the large trunks crashing down through the trees pulled his gaze from where he was going, against his better judgment.

Just as his eyes settled on the dark brown fur of what was behind him, an arm caught him by the throat, laying him out flat. He skidded across the ground for several feet before he finally came to a halt. The slender, white-furred woman that had knocked him down was standing a short distance away, leaning against a tree.

He quickly rolled over to push himself up, only to see a single, gigantic paw in front of his face.

"You put up a good chase," rumbled its owner's deep voice. One huge hand easily lifted him from the ground, giving him a perfect view of the beast's mammoth, snarling face. Glowing red eyes bored into him, the hulking werewolf's maw twisted into a smirk.

"Chasing you has made me... hungry," he growled happily, letting his last word rumble on for several seconds. Fear petrified the man as the blood drained from his face.

The last thing he saw was the werewolf's maw opening wide before snapping down on his neck.

"Where. Is. He?" growled Dimitre. He'd already asked this question several times in the few minutes he'd been there, and he had yet to receive an answer. Standing at six feet tall with a slender build, he didn't look like much- but the werewolves in the cave with him refused to be within arm's reach. "I will not ask again."

When they still didn't answer him, he turned to the cave wall and slammed his fist into it. The wall shook and cracked from the impact, creating a small shower of dust and debris.

Getting to you much today? came the familiar mental voice of his intelligent coat. He'd had it for centuries, and for a while, it was also his only companion. Well, it and the irritating voice of Feith.

Always, he thought back with a mental grumble.

It wasn't often that the vampire lost his composure, but the werewolf he was looking for had made it his life's work to piss him off as often as possible.

"Who, Feith?" asked a sweet voice from behind him. The woman it belonged to walked around in front of him. She was covered in pristine white fur- except for the bright red hair on her head- and her large fennec ears were pointed up. He couldn't stand the shapeshifter- largely because she was with the werewolf, but also because he found her incredibly annoying. "What, you can't even tell when he's behind you?"

"Outbursts of violence, Dimitre?" Feith's deep bass rang out. "How... unbecoming."

A long, slow sigh was released from the smaller man's mouth as he brought himself back under control. He dusted of his sleeves and snapped his coat once to shake the dust from the rest of it.

Maybe you should try meditating, it suggested helpfully.

Shut up, the vampire told it as he turned around.

Unsurprisingly, the gargantuan werewolf was utterly naked. It was rare to see him in any other state, and Dimitre had quickly gotten used to it. While he could ignore the werewolf's nudity, the blood was another matter altogether- and the reason he was there.

To add to his scowl, Feith was doing nothing to hide his amusement about the situation.

"Get your useless pack out of my sight," he ordered Feith, "before I start to kill them."

Feith laughed until he felt the other's intrusive command. Narrowing his eyes to slits, he finally waved one huge hand, dismissing his pack. Within moments, the only other person in the chamber with them was the shapeshifting Lor. She rarely listened to anyone, and especially not Dimitre.

"You hunted down another of my Messengers." It was a simple statement, yet he could barely keep the venom from his voice.

"Your messenger?" Feith asked innocently.

"Don't play stupid with me!" Dimitre snapped, balling one of his hands into a fist before his chest.

Feith laughed again. "Why, vampire, I was simply hunting on my favorite grounds- how was I to know that he was your messenger?" He was really playing the innocence card this time, though Dimitre knew better than that. He had felt the death of his follower and Feith's glee at the kill.

Dimitre could feel his anger building up again. Even knowing that Feith was trying to anger him didn't help much; the damned werewolf knew his buttons too well. He forced himself to calm down.

"You know as well as I do," he growled, "that those grounds are a common place for my Messengers to pass through. Is it that difficult for you to leave them be?"

"Then maybe you should send them a different way," the other suggested. "It's not my fault if they're passing through while I'm there."

The vampire's foot shot up so quickly that neither Feith nor Lor knew it was coming until Feith was on his back. "Yet for the past two weeks, you've conveniently been there only when my Messengers are passing through!"

"Maybe next time you'll actually break something!" he taunted as he stood back up.

"Stop hunting my Messengers," the vampire warned, "or I'll wipe out your pack."

Feith, as obstinate as ever, chuckled at the threat. "You know I'll just make a new one."

"I also know how long it takes," he reminded the beast. "I may not be able to destroy you, but I can slow you down, just as you do me."

The hulking werewolf glowered at him. He was right- they would never be able to kill each other without killing themselves as well, and neither was willing to do that. He didn't really care if his pack lived or died, but he disliked having to remake it from nothing.

"Touch one of my Messengers again, and your pack will be dead before you return," he promised as his body faded to a quickly-dissipating mist.

A few moments later, Lor lovingly wrapped her arms around one of Feith's tree-like arms. "So when do we go hunting again?" she purred.

The werewolf lifted her up and brought her against his massive, bloody chest. "Not for a while yet," he replied. "Give him some time to calm back down first- then we go looking for his messengers again."

Lor giggled as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

#deity #deities #Dimitre #vampire #vampire deity #Feith #werewolf #werewolf deity

[greyskywrites]

Wolf’s Price

[First] [Previous] [AO3] [ko-fi]

V. Howl

5.2k

I brushed my hair while Lady Tyna ground herbs in her mortar and pestle. We had come to something of an uneasy truce, in the days following our departure from Wetasur, and though I still did not trust her, I preferred her company to that of the soldiers, who only treated me with any kind of respect because they feared Muras’ reprisal if they acted inappropriately. Even if I did not like her, we could talk in words that were familiar to us. We didn’t have to explain ourselves to each other.

Our party was camped along the banks of a small river which ran cold and fast. I had quietly made the appropriate offerings to the god of the river, while no one paid me any mind. I didn’t wish for anyone to drown or take a chill in its waters.

One of the soldiers played a wooden flute, leaned up against a supply wagon. Muras was brushing down his elk, and Todd was playing cards with three or four soldiers by lantern light. It would have been almost peaceful, except that every now and then the men would all look up, hearing the distant roaring of snow lions. The soldiers kept their rifles near at hand, and their eyes on the darkness.

“Do you think we should tell them lions only kill men in winter when game is scarce?” Lady Tyna asked, scraping her powdered herbs into a pot of boiling water. She made the same tea every night, said she couldn’t sleep without it.

“I’ve found it does little to ease their fear.” I had tried to tell Muras as much, but it had not prevented him from ordering a watch for the previous few nights, and it would not stop him from ordering another that night. It made the men feel better, to have a watch.

We had begun to come across evidence of the Atsa’s passing. It was difficult to mistake mammoth dung for anything but what it was, and the old campfires smothered in dirt that followed the mammoth paths made it certain.

We came across a dead mammoth the following day. It must have perished the winter before, because what was left of it was mostly bone and scraps of weathered hide, the flesh long since scavenged or rotted away. The tusks were sawn off, and the ribs gone. The Atsa used them to construct their mammoth hide tents. The teeth were gone, too, for jewelry, for carvings.

“I always forget how big they are,” Todd murmured, standing in front of the skull. “I never saw a mammoth, before I came to Saren. Then the first one I lay eyes on… it was in battle.”

I rested my hand on his arm while Todd told me about it, his first year as an officer, “green as a spring sapling and twice as dumb.” He was stationed at a garrison on the Kressosi side of the Lor, up in the east where the river was narrower. His commanding officer sent them across on riverships the moment the ice melted, counting on Saren to be weakened from a difficult winter.

They had forgotten that the Hasi were still in the south, and that they were not inexperienced with Kressosi raids. While the Sarenn city had bunkered down and sheltered the women and children, the Hasi and other Sarenn men drove the mammoth herd into a panic down to the river, where they crushed ships and men alike. Kressosi muskets couldn’t harm them enough to do anything but make the panic worse, and enrage the mammoths.

“I jumped ship and swam back to shore,” Todd said, “current took me nearly a mile downriver and I had to walk back on a broken leg, with bodies floating down the river.” He shuddered slightly at the memory, and I squeezed his hand.

“The Litira Hasi say that in the old days, when it came time for war, their men would use a secret ritual to communicate with solitary males, become one with them, and take them into battle.” I had used to love listening to Hasi stories, but that one especially. I imagined the Litira warriors, with blue and red whorls painted on their faces, going into battle with mammoths, throwing spears and firing arrows from their backs.

“Well,” Todd said, “I hope for our sakes they’ve forgotten how to do that.”

#

Muras was bent over a letter to his twin sister on a night we stayed in a roadside tavern with a leaky roof and the wind whistling around the window panes. In Kressos they say twins are lucky, signs of good fortune. Tomlin was the only of his sisters that I had ever known him to write to.

“Are you going to eat?” I asked. “I didn’t see you in the dining hall at all, and they’ll be putting the food away, soon.”

He had grown moody, and that worried me. Kaspar had been given to moods, too, and they had usually been accompanied by whiskey. Muras was not a drinker, but I did not know what he was, when a mood took him.  

Muras looked up, surprised, as if he had forgotten where we were, what time it was. “Oh—gods. Is it any good?”

“The food? It’s as good as you’ll get, this far away from anything. Suffers for a lack of pepper or ginger, but the meat’s good and the rice is cooked well.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “Go eat. Your letter will still be here when you get back.”

He went, and I sighed, glancing down at the letter.

I would say I didn’t mean to pry, but the truth was I hoped to learn if something was wrong, something he might confide to his twin but not to me.

And I saw my own name.

Lya doesn’t speak the whole of it. She answers my questions, but I always have the sense she’s holding back, concealing something. She claims she dislikes to speak of her past, but I think she’s deflecting me, that whatever she’s hiding, she has good reason to fear.

She hasn’t been the same since we crossed the Lor. It’s as if some spell has been cast over her. I can hear you telling me not to be so superstitious already, but this place, Tomlin—it’s enough to make you believe that everything the Sarenn say is true.

After a year in Morhall, I imagine I’ll be convinced of witches and trolls, too.

I scanned the rest of the letter for my name, but didn’t see it. Hands shaking, I tore myself away.

My bag sat on the end of the bed. I plunged my hand inside, seeking out the horn Weta had given me. It was cool to the touch, the old ivory yellowed with age. I ran my fingertip along the trumpet, the ivory wolf’s teeth. The pad of my finger caught a sharp edge, and I gasped softly, seeing a spot of blood smeared across the tooth.

The horn warmed in my hand, and I plunged it once more into the bag, my heart racing. Weta had not told me what would happen if I sounded the horn. All I knew was that it had been given to him by the Wolf, to give to me. “It was made, for one such as you.”

“Was this fated?”

Weta had laughed at me then. “Fated? No. You were chosen when you proved yourself, and that has made your fate.”

What it was I had done to prove myself, he hadn’t said, but I suspected I knew.

After a moment, I pulled the horn out again. It was warm now, as warm as my own skin, and the streak of blood was gone. It seemed different somehow, as if the wolf’s head at the trumpet met my gaze. Hesitantly, I pressed my lips to the bit, held it aloft.

Horns weren’t a woman’s tool. They were things of hunting, battle. I hadn’t even played with them as a child.

I lowered the horn, and gazed at it. Weta might as well have given me a sword, for all I felt capable of wielding it.

By the time Todd came upstairs, I was penning my own letter, the horn hidden safely once more. “Who’re you writing to?” Todd asked, rummaging through his bag for his nightshirt.

“Kaspar Heita,” I said. “I want to know how my son is doing.” I avoided writing Kaspar, if I could help it, but I loathed the idea of learning about Kip’s wellbeing secondhand, so every few months I sat down to pen a short letter, telling Kaspar I was well, and asking after his health, and Kip’s.

Concerning himself, he only ever said that he was managing, and then he would go on to detail everything about Kip that had happened since the last time I wrote. Every complaint, illness, joy and sorrow. Overall, he was a healthy, happy boy, and I always felt that—without saying so directly—Kaspar was hoping that it would be enough to bring me back.

At least writing him gave me something to think about other than the fact that Muras suspected me of keeping secrets and acting strangely.

“So what’s happened that you and the Tyna woman aren’t trying to actively tear each other’s throats out?” Todd asked, pulling his nightshirt over his head.

“You noticed?” I asked dryly.

“Surprised you haven’t let Bili trample her,” Todd said, sitting on the end of the bed. It was barely wide enough for two people to sleep comfortably, and I couldn’t imagine the three of us were going to be anything but cramped.

“She’s the only physician we have,” I said.

“Are you ill?” Todd asked, a note of worry in his voice.

“No,” I said. “Only pregnant.”

Todd went quiet for a moment, and I glanced at him with a smile. He laughed. “Muras will be over the moon.”

“Don’t tell him yet,” I said. “He’ll fuss terribly about Bili and I won’t be able to stand it. He’d have me going all the way to Morhall in the back of a cart with dozens of pillows.”

Todd laughed, and nodded. “Alright. I won’t say anything. Save it for when he needs cheering up, yeah?” He winked at me, and stretched out on the bed. I finished my letter and went to join him, curling up against his side.

“His family will never accept one of my children,” I murmured.

“They don’t have to,” Todd said, running his fingers over my hair. “Muras is the heir. Only acceptance that matters is his.”

#

When first I had joined Muras’ household, Todd had been wary of me. Less because I was Sarenn, and more because I had been a maidservant, abandoned a child and former lover, and he suspected me of aiming to pursue a higher social status through whatever means necessary. He warned me that it was impossible Muras would ever marry me, to which I replied rather coldly that I never again would be any man’s wife, no matter who he was.

I think it was that that allowed Todd to begin to trust me.

It was some months later before he told me why he knew Muras would never ask me to be his wife, even if he wished to.

Muras was his father’s only son, that I knew. His youngest child, born after even his twin, smaller and weaker than his sister. It was feared he would perish in his infancy, but he lived, and despite some illness when he was young, grew to thrive.

He had six elder sisters, besides Tomlin, and was close to none of them. The reason, Todd told me, was because their mother had turned her daughters against Muras and Tomlin—because they were the children of a kitchen maid.

By no means were the newly born twins the only children that resulted from Master Emiran’s indiscretions, but Muras was the only son who survived his first five years, and thus, was the only one legitimized with his father’s name. Because of that, Tomlin and Muras were resented by their half-sisters, those legitimate and those not, and Muras had spent a large part of his life seeking his father’s continued approval, with a few major exceptions.

The first, that he had joined the king’s army without his father’s consent. Master Emiran did not feel he could risk his only son, not when bloody conflict with Saren was as certain a fact as the sun in the sky. Muras felt he could not bear to live another year under the watchful gaze of everyone in that household.

The second was me.

My existence was tolerated because I was only a mistress, and a man with a mistress could still make a marriage that suited his status. If Muras sought to marry me, there would be scandal, and it was unlikely that his father hated his sons-in-law so much he would not disinherit Muras for taking a Sarenn woman of unclear standing to wife. For all anyone else in Muras’ family knew, I could have been born and raised in a brothel.

I took comfort in that knowledge. I had told the truth when I said I would never again marry. I had found marriage to be a prison through which there was only one sure escape, and it was not a position I would willingly place myself in again.

So long as Muras had no legal power over me, I could convince myself that I was a free woman.

#

One of the soldiers in our party was a young man named Keris, who blushed whenever I spoke to him. He was maybe twenty, and spoke easily enough to the men, even to Lady Tyna, but with me he grew shy and bashful.

It might have been charming, had I not been trying to ask him a question. “Master Keris, I am just trying to ask you when the traders saw the Hasi.”

“Sorry—sorry, Miss, they said it was—ah—a week ago.” He had turned pink as a rose, and finally having gotten what I wanted out of him, I spared him the continued torment of my presence, pulling myself up into the saddle and spurring Bili to the head of our little band. We had had little trouble yet—a cartwheel had broken and we spent the better part of a day affixing the new one—but the further north we went, the more anxious I grew.

Even when Saren was ruled by its own king, the north had been more feral than the south. It was a nest for thieves and highwaymen.

The sooner we joined up with a Hasi clan, the better.

Lady Tyna approached me on foot, staying well clear of Bili’s head. “Did you hear the rumors, too?”

I nodded. The traders we had camped with the night previous had only narrowly escaped a band of men calling themselves a militia, who had taken it upon themselves to attempt to liberate the trade caravan of its food and elk. We had soldiers, but we were a smaller party, and I was not eager to find out how confident this militia was in their ability to fight Kressosi soldiers. I would stick closer to the group, and trust that Bili was suspicious enough to alert me of anything he heard.

“I hope your wolf-magic is good for something,” Lady Tyna said.

So did I.

I touched my saddlebag, where the horn was hidden. I had grown paranoid of it being too far out of my reach, though I couldn’t have said what I thought I needed it for, or how it might help me.

It would be three days, before we again encountered a tavern. The soldiers feared the animals we might encounter. They would be wiser to fear the men.

I draped the wolf pelt across my saddle. The warmth of the sun almost made it feel alive, sometimes. I had taken to bringing it to bed, and if either Todd or Muras thought that strange, they didn’t say so to me. I felt safer with it.

That day the most exciting incident occurred when we came upon a herd of wild woolly rhino grazing in a meadow, and we had to make a wide half circle around them before we could rejoin the road. There were calves whose heads only barely cleared the top of the grass, playing on a stream bank, and a flock of cranes on the shore with them.

We camped on the leeward side of a hill, under the cover of aged cedars, and set off again early in the morning, crossing paths only with a small herd of deer, and several flocks of geese. At noon we stopped to rest and water the animals, eating dried meat, cheese, and wild berries as a supper.

We passed through a small canyon speckled with thin waterfalls that would be dry by the height of summer. Moss and lichen clung to the smooth stone, dripping water onto the narrow path as we made our way down to follow the creek until the road began again.

I felt, more than saw, the way Bili tensed. He came to a full stop on the path, halting our caravan. I held up a hand to keep anyone from calling out a question, watching the way Bili’s ears flicked, the snort he gave. I raised my gaze, scanning the brush that clung to the canyon walls.

It was the glint of a bayonet that caught my eye. I yanked Bili around, raising my hand to point, “Up there—!”

The shot missed me, musketball splintering the bark of a scraggly tree just to the left, and Bili tossed his head and reared, bugling. Muras shouted to the soldiers, and I wrapped Bili’s reins around one hand, turning back to face the men aiming down at us. I felt another shot graze my cheek with a sharp sting, and I kicked my heels into Bili’s flanks, hard.

There is a reason I prefer elk to horses. Bili leapt from the path onto the treacherous footing of the hillside, barreling to the men who had fired at us, to either trample or throw them. The men scrambled for higher ground, and Bili chased until he could chase them no further, bugling and shaking his head.

I reached back into my saddle bag, grasping the one thing that was still warm to the touch. There were more men, I knew there were, because there were no three men in all of Saren mad enough to try and attack a group of Kressosi soldiers without aid. I put the horn to my lips, and the sound it made wasn’t that of any horn.

It was a wolf’s howl, echoing off the walls of the canyon.

I lowered the horn, and heard my howl answered. A dozen or more wolves I could not see, howling from the hillsides. I looked at the men Bili had chased onto a crag, and called out to them. “Tell whoever leads you that the Winter Wolf will devour any man who harms a member of our party.”

One of them spat at me, called me ‘witch’ and other things less polite.

I answered, raising the wolf pelt high so that they could see it. “Tell whoever leads you that the woman who told you this is one who has spoken Vull’s name aloud, called him down from the ice, and lived to speak of it. Tell them that she made the wolves howl for her, tell them that she knows your gods by name, and that in warning you to flee she offered you a chance to save your own lives.” I stared at them, eyes burning. Let them think I was laying the evil eye upon them. “Vull will slaughter any who harms me and mine.”

A distant man’s voice called them to retreat, and I watched the men begin to climb, disappearing once more into the brush.

Snorting in discontent, Bili took us back down to the path. I held the horn tightly in my hand, and looked up, when Muras came to meet me. There was something in his eyes, something between fear and disbelief. “Lya…”

“We need to go,” I said. “Now. And get onto safer ground as quickly as we can. I won’t have scared them off for long.” I put the leather strap of the horn over my head, pulled my braid out so that it rested firmly at the back of my neck, and the horn fell against the front of my jacket. I spurred Bili to a trot, keeping an eye on the hillside, and trying to ignore the pounding in my ribs.

There were still wolves howling.

#

Muras said very little to me as we set up camp that evening, against the shelter of a shallow cave. He posted men to keep watch, and I set myself to building a fire with Lady Tyna, trying not to run my thoughts into the ground.

Lady Tyna was watching me, out the corner of her eye. “Where did you get that horn?”

“Where do you think?” I looked at her, feeling the warmth of the horn where it was leaned up against my shirt.

Lady Tyna gazed at me for a long moment, and then looked back to our fledgling fire, carefully prodding the dry moss under the cone of kindling and firewood. “Your man is afraid of you.”

I didn’t answer her, rising to my feet and brushing the dirt from my skirts. Muras was standing by the mouth of the cave, watching the forest. He had his arms folded, a grim set to his mouth. I stepped up alongside him, and he spoke without looking at me. “Teffan says there’s been a pack of wolves keeping pace with us since we left the canyon. Peeled away only an hour or so ago, to hunt, he thinks.”

Was I supposed to say something to that?

Muras shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Teffan also says you may have saved our lives. Found evidence of somewhere near twenty men who had been waiting for us.” He looked at me then, pale grey eyes searching out some kind of answer in my face. “What happened in that canyon, Lya?”

I looked away. “I made them afraid to harm us, that’s all.”

“I’ve never seen that horn before. Where did you get it?”

“From an old man in Wetasur. He gave it to me as a gift.”

“A horn that summons wolves.”

“Is that what you believe it does?” I looked at him. Muras feared his nightmares, on some level I believe he feared ghosts, but like all Kressosi men of a certain kind he was loathe to admit any belief in what could not be seen, felt, or otherwise verified.

Muras muttered a curse under his breath. “What I know is that horn made a sound like a wolf’s howl, and it was answered. What I know is that ever since we crossed the Lor, everything to do with you has somehow come back to wolves. What I believe is that you’re keeping something secret from me.”

My heart shuddered against my ribs. “What I know to be true is nothing you would believe,” I said.

“Tell me anyway,” Muras said. “Because I need some explanation, Lya, anything.”

I brought the horn up in my hands. “Do you know what a vulgasgeld is?”

Muras let out a breath. “Wolf’s price. That’s what the Sarenn call frostbite, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “Yes. But the word comes from something else.” I looked up at him. “When you ask a favor of the Winter Wolf, you owe him something in return. A price of flesh and blood. Your own, mind, the stories are very clear about that. Sacrifice of another is not payment.” It was why what had happened at Morhall took me by surprise, why I grieved over it so. That wasn’t what I had asked for, it wasn’t what I wanted to pay for.

Muras gazed at me, waiting to see how this was an explanation. “I asked the Wolf to kill my husband,” I said. “I was ready to pay for that with my life. It didn’t matter to me, then, if I lived or died. I wanted him dead, and I wanted his other wives to be free.”

“So you owe a debt,” Muras said.

I nodded. “But I don’t think the Wolf wants my life. Not in that way.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He…” I looked down at the horn, tightened my grip on it. “He wants me to do something. I don’t know what, yet, but I don’t think I can refuse.” I shook my head, and met his gaze. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, don’t you?” I asked, softly. Whatever he was, whatever he had or hadn’t done, I didn’t want Muras to come to harm.

“And if that was what your god wanted you to do?” Muras asked.

I swallowed past the sudden pain in my chest. “I would pay my price some other way,” I said. Then, “If that were what he wanted, why would he have waited this long?”

Muras didn’t answer me, looking back to the forest.

I started to turn away, and then stopped. “I’m pregnant,” I said. “Todd already knows.”

Muras turned sharply, surprise on his face. “What?”

“Lady Tyna confirmed it. You’ll be a father by spring.”

I started to turn again and Muras caught my arm, gentle. “Lya,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.”

All I said was, “I love you.”

#

I dreamed again, that night, with the wolf pelt on my bedroll, coarse and warm. I saw myself from a strange angle, as if it were not me, and it wasn’t me. Me in the bed had long black hair, a hazelnut face. Me in the dream had all white hair, all over, thick and coarse. Me in the dream moved on all fours, slipping like a shadow past the two men standing watch, not sure how they didn’t see me, not caring.

Things smelled different, in the dream. Sharper. I padded through the trees, silent as a ghost, stopping only when I heard the howls of my family.

I howled back, a low mournful sound that hummed out of my ribs, and went to meet them. There, my brother, grey as ash, my sister, the same, another sister, black as night. I was long missing kin, I was welcomed. I smelled blood on their breaths, deer’s blood.

Somehow, a thought was passed between us. We had other things to hunt.

We followed the smell of men on foot, men who were hungry and angry. Their camp was easy to find, they had been there a long time, and the smell of a latrine carries on the wind. They had men awake, too, but only a few of them were keeping watch.

The others were arguing. Men’s fear and anger puts a certain smell on the air, sharp and sour.  

One of the men, not the oldest, but one of the older ones, silenced the group. He had a thick, rust-red beard, and a braid that hung down to his belt, tied in silver wire. “Tell me again, what she said.”

Someone repeated the words that me-in-the-bed had said, the warning. They avoided saying the true name, they said, the Wolf, and there was fear in it. The red-bearded man stoked the fire. “She is bold,” he said. “Or stupid.”

“The wolves answered her.”

“They answered a howl,” red-beard said. “That means nothing.”

“You weren’t looking at her eyes.” It was one of the men me-in-the-bed had stared down. “They weren’t a woman’s eyes.”

My brothers and sisters moved silently around the camp. They were waiting for something.

I slipped forward through the brush, and stepped into the firelight. The men saw me and flinched back, readying their muskets and rifles. Stolen, I knew somehow. All except red-beard, who told the men not to shoot, not yet. I stood on the opposite side of the fire, gazed at him. Red-beard put his elbow across his knee, cracked half a smile. “And are you the Wolf himself, or the witch my men saw?”

I growled. I was no witch.

“I ought to let my men kill you,” red-beard said.

I made no sound. Me-in-the-wolf-skin could not die, because the wolf whose shape I walked in was already dead. I sat, and gazed.

“Do you know what we are?” red-beard asked.

Thieves. Highwaymen. Militia. I didn’t care.

“We,” red-beard said, “are part of a Sarenn rebellion. We are going to slaughter every single Kressosi dog who stands in our way, until there is a Sarenn on the throne once more.” His eyes were blue, and sharp. “So we are given to wonder why it is one who claims to be protected by the Wolf would protect Kressosi.”

I spoke, then, with a voice that was not my own. It was a voice in the wind, in the trees. Saren will have no king.

“Oh?” Red-beard asked. “And what will she have instead? A witch-queen, maybe?”

Weta had asked me what I would have, and I still did not know, but I knew as surely as I breathed that as long as I played a role in the Wolf’s plans, there would be no Sarenn king, no Sarenn throne. We would not be free as long as we looked behind us, instead of forward.

I stood again, growled. Saren will have no king, and you will not harm us.

“Why shouldn’t I?” red-beard asked mildly.

My brothers and sisters began to emerge, eyes flickering at the edges of the firelight. The men’s fear-sweat was even sharper now.

Because they will kill you, I said. I gazed at him one last time, and I turned my back to leave the men’s camp.

I woke when Muras gave a sudden start, woken by a nightmare of his own. In the sudden dark of the cave I blinked, and rolled over, reaching out a hand to touch his arm. He shook his head, and pulled me closer, as if he needed to be assured I was still real. In a moment we were both asleep again, and I dreamed no more that night.

#

There was a gloomy air over the little village we came to, just after the middle of the day. I heard mourners weeping, and there were men on the edge of the village, busy building a burial mound.

Todd asked someone what had happened as we settled into the inn. He came up to our room with a grave face, and cast a meaningful glance at me. “Innkeeper’s wife says eighteen men in a hunting party were killed by wolves last night.”

#original fiction #prose #wolf's price