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agree-to-love · 4 years

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This fic is dedicated to @my-littlewritings for the BNHA Spring Time Event! I have had fun getting to know you during these past couple weeks! I do hope you enjoy! I hope everyone who has stumbled upon this enjoys it! It is for any and all!

Bakugo x Reader SFW

Boom boy wants an invitation

Word count: 3.1k

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

The sky, much like the park below, was bustling. Clouds danced around the sun. The park was beaming with people as they gathered to partake in the festivities. Food stands stood along a pre determined path. Filling the air with the delectable aromas of batter frying. Grills sizzling with fresh meat. People gathered around the grassy steps of an amphitheater. On the concrete stage, the band was setting up instruments. Chords occasionally strummed to test the sound quality.

“Over here, Kirishima!” Mina exclaimed, “I found the perfect spot!” Waving from the top of the amphitheater.

Kirishima grinned as he jogged over to her. Bakugo lazily followed behind, a scowl carved into his brow. They stopped in an area that was away from the larger groups, who had laid claim to other steps. It still held a noticeable view of the stage, but tucked off to the side. Bakugo groaned and dropped down, to sit on the soft grass. It was still cool from the rains the night before. It did it bother him, it had a soothing effect on his hands.

“Hey, Bakugo! You can help too, ya know?!” Mina shouted as she gave him a kick.

He scoffed, “Whatever. Don’t see why you need those.” He said as he closed his eyes and laid back. Intertwining his fingers behind his head to keep it propped up.

Mina growled and huffed as she spread out the blankets with Kirishima. Who laughed awkwardly, not wanting to get in the middle of their argument. He was the one who dragged Bakugo along. Not aware that Mina wanted it to be just the two of them. He was dense to her hints. However, Mina was quick to react and had a plan in mind. One that Kirishima would never had envisioned. It was easier than telling Bakugo to just go back home.

“You know, Bakugo.” She said with a sly smile, “I invited, you know who to join us.” She turned slightly to see Bakugo peek an eye open. She giggled, “Yeah. That’s right. She should be here any minute now. You wouldn’t want to seem like a lazy, good for nothing friend when she’s around, would you?”

“Tch. Whatever…like I care.” He said nonchalantly, closing his eyes again.

Mina frowned and sat down on the blankets. Pouting over Bakugo’s insensitivity. She looked over at Kirishima who just shrugged.

“Oh, you’re no help.” She said with a wave of her hand.

“Well, what do you expect?” Kirishima asked as he sat down next to her, “I mean, did you think he would jump around like a school girl?”

Mina rolled her eyes, “Well, no but…” She turned to Kirishima and whispered, “…they totally have something. I mean you saw it too, right?”

Kirishima chuckled, “Well, yeah. But you know him, he isn’t exactly a Casanova.”

“Yeah. I’m aware, but I think she made an impact and I am here for it.” She said with a smile.

“What are you two dumb-asses whispering about?!” Bakugo exclaimed, hearing bits and pieces of their conversation. Only partly paying attention. He kept his eyes closed and choose to ignore them. It was easier than trying to deal with their idiotic tendencies.

“Whatcha doin’?” You asked in a chipper tone.

Bakugo’s eyes shot open when he heard the familiar voice. He stared up at you and could not control the way his mouth slowly gaped open. Your hair flowed freely, blocking the sun that was once beating down on him. It gave you a heavenly glow. You smiled at him, then sat down on the section between Bakugo and the blankets. The rays now beaming back into his eyes. He turned his head to better follow your movements.

“Hey, girl!” Mina exclaimed, “You don’t have to sit in the grass! Come join us on the blankets.” She said while patting the soft, dry fabric.

You shook your head, “I’m good. The grass feels nice.”

Mina shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

You smiled at her and turned back to catch Bakugo staring at you. He instinctively turned away. Closing his eyes, as though he had no care in the world. You laid back in the grass. Unbothered by the coolness that condensed in the small of your back from the grass. You gazed up at the sky. The clouds passed by lazily above you.

“Are you watching the clouds?” You asked, turning to see if Bakugo was.

Again you caught him staring at you. Once more he looked away. Back up at the clouds that were now blocking the sun’s unforgiving rays. You smiled softly, but kept your gaze on him. His eye flickered back to catch a glimpse of you. His cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink when he discovered he had been caught. Again he looked away. You chuckled and turned back to look towards the sky.

“What are you laughing at?” He asked sharply.

You brought your hand up to point at a passing cloud, “Does that cloud look like a duck or a bunny to you?” You asked, avoiding the real answer to his question.

He scoffed, “I dunno.”

“Aww come on…use your imagination.” You said, “What do you see?”

Bakugo looked up at the cloud. He could make out the wings, but not much else. “It looks like…” He said, trying to decipher what his eyes saw, “I just see wings.”

You smiled, “Yeah.” You turned your head and gazed at him, “I see a duck.”

He turned his head and instead of pulling away from your stare, he kept the hold. Your eyes were now locked and his intense stare gave you chills. It may have been the breeze. However, goosebumps covered your skin the longer he stared. His brow was furrowed, but there was a calmness in his eyes. You smiled warmly at him. Although it was for only a brief moment, you could see the subtle change in his expression. His brow loosened and his mouth opened slightly. It faded just as quickly as it came. His expression returning to its normal scowl soon enough.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Mina. Who was exclaiming about the first band going on stage. You propped yourself up on your elbows. Getting a better view of the stage as the band ran out to greet the crowd. They were fired up. You could feel the excitement of the crowd as it roared to life. As the first song rolled through the speakers, Mina stood up. Grabbing Kirishima from his seat. The two began dancing to the upbeat rhythm and hyped up beats.

“Idiots.” Bakugo scoffed.

You peered back at him. This time you did not catch his glance. Although, it still lingered when you turned back to check out the band. He did not like how often his eyes trailed over you. It was like this the last time you met. Mina had invited you to his birthday party. One he did not wish to have, but Kirishima once again insisted. You were intoxicating to him. So calm, cool and collected all the time. You never flinched when he shot off his blasts. Your eyes were always watching and he could never seem to shake off the feelings that gave him.

Moving his knee up, he placed his hand on it. Using his left forearm to keep himself upright. Still trying to give off the fact that he did not care. However, he could not deny that the music, and the company, were actually good.

You peeked over at Bakugo when he changed his position. It seemed he did not catch you. Which was good. You could not look at him for more than a few seconds. It was unfair for someone to look so good. The black shirt he wore, looked two sizes too small. In that position his muscles were flexed and it looked like he could rip the shirt at its seams.

You tried concentrating on the music. However, you could not release the mental image of Bakugo’s thick arms. Your thoughts began to run wild with wonders of what his shirt might be hiding. It was eating away at you. If you were to keep your sanity and composure, you had to do something. You stood up from your position on the ground. Wiping off the grass.

“Hey Mina!” You shouted over the music, “I’m gonna go get something to drink!”

She gave you a thumbs up and continued dancing. You turned to look down at Bakugo. He glanced up at you.

“Want anything?” You asked.

To him the question had many answers. To your surprise, he stood up. What came next almost sent you to the moon. He interlaced his fingers and swung his arms above his head. Then, stretched and arched his back. The contours of his muscles were mouth watering. Your eyes trailed down to the hem of his shirt. That was now hiked up. Revealing the rim of his underwear and the bottom of his smooth and taut abdomen.

“What you lookin’ at?” Bakugo asked sharply.

You shook your head and adverted his gaze. “Nothing. I was just thinking about…what I should get to drink.” You said, hoping he did not catch you staring so blatantly at him. You turned and headed towards the food stands.

Bakugo was only a couple steps behind. You could not see the smirk that formed on his lips. It was quick to disappear. He was confident that he saw where your gaze had drifted. It was a silent gesture. During the walk to the food stands, he got a sight of his own. His eyes once again trailing over your body. Your choice of a crop top was perfect. The way your back moved and arched was a sight to behold. However, nothing compared to way your hips and thighs moved in your tight jeans. He wondered how you could even get into them. Did you paint them on? Would they be hard to take off? His wild thoughts were interrupted by your voice.

“Let’s try this place.” You said as you abruptly stopped in your tracks.

Since Bakugo’s attention was elsewhere, he did not stop soon enough. Instead, he stepped into you. Throwing you off balance. His hand quickly grabbed your waist, preventing your fall. As he held firm to your waist, a group of people walked by. Tightening the space between both of you. You had no choice but to squeeze into his body as the crowd moved forward. You were unsure where to put your hands, but they somehow ended up on his chest. Unwilling to look up, your eyes stayed on your hands. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like hours.

The crowd was gone, but Bakugo had yet to release you. His rough and calloused hand still firmly gripping your supple skin. However, he knew keeping hold of you was not the right step now. So he released his grip. You pulled away at the speed of a snail. Your eyes found the strength to gaze into his. His brow was relaxed, but his gaze still gave you goosebumps.

Bakugo turned away and walked over to the food stand. You breathed a sigh of relief. Unaware that you had even been holding your breath. You both ordered drinks and proceeded back to the amphitheater. The journey back was just as quiet as the one before. However, the atmosphere was different.

“I love this song.” You said, as a way to break the silence and tension between you.

All Bakugo did was grunt in reply. You took the straw of your drink in your mouth. It was easier than your foot. The sweet concoction was enough to distract you during the walk back.

Once again, you both laid on the grass. Watching the band unveil more stunning pieces of music. You could have sworn on your life, that Bakugo was now closer to you this time. Both of your positions, same as before, were now less than a foot apart. Your heart was starting to speed up the pace. Making you lose your composure was something that Bakugo seemed to excel at. His affect, effortless.

As the band continued, so did your thoughts. You two had only known each other for a short time. However, you wanted to know more about him. His likes and dislikes. His dreams and desires. What he had been through and what he planned for his future. He was a closed book and you desperately wanted to flip through his pages.

You turned to gaze at Bakugo, “Do you like the music so far?” You asked. Another attempt at breaking the tension.

“Yeah.” He said quickly.

You pondered on how stupid a question that was. A closed ended question like that would yield no results. You glanced over at Mina and Kirishima. Who were laying on the blankets together. Singing to the song. Neither of them were any good, but they looked so happy. They held each other close and you could not stop that tinge of jealousy that crept into your heart.

The rest of the afternoon continued on as before. Occasionally, you would ask Bakugo a question. His answers were short and to the point. Even open ended questions yielded short responses. Eventually, you gave up and just listened to the music. You hummed along and periodically sang a line or two. You did not want to appear like some obsessive freak. So as you sang along, you kept your distance. Giving him the space you felt was necessary.

As you occasionally sang the ins and outs of the various songs, Bakugo watched. His focus on your soothing voice. You were no Sinatra, but you carried the notes. You did not waver and your tone stayed true. It was much more entertaining to watch than the band. At least, to Bakugo. The conversations you were having were very one sided. It was not that he did not want to talk. However, it was that he did not know what to say. Although, now a question was burning inside him.

“Do you sing professionally?” He asked.

You stopped your melody and turned to look at him. Your cheeks and ears stained pink. Was he asking you a question? Did he just ask, if you sang professionally? You were not a singer, at least not a good one. Singing casually to songs was something everyone did. Did you really sound that good?

You chuckled, “Oh no. No way. I’m really not that good.” You said, waving your hand. A means to brush off the anxiety you felt.

His red eyes drilled into yours, “I think you sound nice.” He said, turning his gaze to the band, “Better than these guys.”

“Thank you. Really, but I’m no professional. Singing in the shower is the only stage I perform on.” You said with a chuckle.

“Then, where do I buy tickets?” He said with a smirk and a side glance in your direction.

You took in a sharp breath. This man was surely going to be the death of you. You could feel it. The tension that was hanging in the air before, was palpable now. If there was a doubt in your mind before, it was out the door now. You glanced over at him and decided to see how far he would go with this. You flipped the switch.

“My performances are invitation only.” You said with a coy smile.

His eyes widened, a thin lipped smirk quickly shifted into a toothy grin. Baring his impressive canines. Not only could you see the excitement start to boil in his eyes. You could also feel it growing inside yourself. You were playing with fire now. He leaned in closer and you stood your ground. Your own smile unwavering as he inched closer. His eyes were swimming in yours. The moment, however, was short lived.

Kirishima once again was unobservant and could not read the situation. He jumped up from his spot on the blanket and exclaimed, “I’m starving! Bakugo lets go get something to eat!”

Bakugo pushed back from his position and slowly pulled his eyes from yours to glare at Kirishima, “I’m not hungry.” He said in a deep growl.

You sighed. Unsure if it was out of relief or frustration. Could you have stayed collected if the moment continued? What was he going to say next? What was he going to do? The remark he made was bold and it took you by surprise. However, you could tell that your comment was also not something he had anticipated.

Kirishima shrugged and walked off to the food stands with Mina in tow. Bakugo turned his attention back to you. Making contact with his gaze sent a chill up your spine. You inhaled quickly through your nose. He placed his hand in the grass next to yours. His thumb sitting gently on the top of your hand.

“So…how do I get that invitation?” He asked as he slowly rubbed circles into your skin.

You could not help but lick your lips as you contemplated what to say. The simple act caused Bakugo to break his gaze with yours. Only for a second. His other hand found its way to the ends of your hair. He trailed his fingers up the strands, then tucked them behind your ear. The tips of his fingers brushing the skin of your neck. You drew your next breath in, slowly. The exhale, twice as long. His thumb rubbed your cheek while his fingers grazed along your jawline and neck.

You wanted to move, you really did. Only your head wavered as you leaned into his hand. Your eyes fluttering. With your face in his hand, you gazed back up at him. Your stare was too much. The tension snapped.

“Fuck it.” He said sharply.

Before your brain could register what he said, his lips were on yours. You grasped his forearm to prevent yourself from falling back. He hit you with more force than you could have anticipated. However, he was a step ahead. His hand ripped away from the grass to wrap around your waist. Pulling you in closer.

You let a moan slip out as you also removed your hand from the earth. Finding its way up his arm. Pausing at every curve in his flexed muscles. Until it found a place in his hair.

In all reality, the kiss lasted seconds. However, in that moment, time was nothing but a construct. It held no place. You both pulled your lips apart. Your hand trailed along his neck and onto his chest. You placed it there as a means to stop yourself. Your heart was beating faster than the drums of a battleship.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.” He said through a long breath.

You smirked, “That definitely earns an invitation.”

#bnha spring time #for my-littlewritings #hope you like it #boom boy wants an invitation #bakugo #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugo sfw #sfw #if you want a smutty continuation just let me know

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stormtide-leviathan · 3 years

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Kaldheim Booster Challenge

I posted this on reddit, if you’d rather check it out there, but I wanted to share it here too b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶'̶m̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶s̶t̶a̶n̶t̶l̶y̶ ̶d̶e̶s̶p̶e̶r̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶a̶f̶f̶i̶r̶m̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶.

In the third great designer search, there was a challenge to pick a set and make a booster pack full of custom cards that fit in that set. I’ve started doing this for sets since Zendikar rising, and wanted to continue that tradition here. Why am I doing this so late after the release of Kaldheim? Cause shuttup, that’s why >:(

Here’s the link to the full imgur album. There are also individual imgur links even though there are images, cause reddit doesn’t allow images directly and I’m copy/pasting from there.

Anyway, let’s get started! (Long post ahead)

Common #1:

Divine Goat 3W

Creature- Goat

W, Sacrifice ~: You gain 3 life.

Whenever you cast your second spell each turn, return ~ from your graveyard to your hand.

Here’s a top down design, based on Thor’s goats that pulled his chariot and were sacrificed for food every night and reborn in the morning. Originally the recursion triggered based on Vehicles, but with two other vehicle cards in the booster including the other white common, one had to go and this was the best option, but I still liked the flavor so I went with another of white’s themes.

Common #2:

Dwarven Elder 2W

Creature- Dwarf Warrior

Whenever ~ crews a Vehicle, draw a card.

2/2

The fabled white card draw. Yes, I am your savior. Your messiah. Bow before my wisdom. I could technically see this design in either white or blue, but I liked white better and white cares more about vehicles anyway. I based the costing off Stealer of Secrets. This doesn’t put itself in danger, but relies much more on deck building to activate.

Common #3:

Ambusher Giant 5U

Creature- Giant Warrior

Flash

Foretell 3U (During your turn, you may pay 2 and exile this card from your hand face down. Cast it on a later turn for its foretell cost.)

4/4

Foretell works really well with instant speed, so I thought a big instant speed creature would be a good fit. Since blue has a giant tribal theme, and is one of the main colors for foretell, it was an obvious fit.

Common #4:

Heated Rebuttal 1U

Instant

Counter target spell unless its controller pays 2. They can’t spend S to pay this cost. (S is mana from a snow source.)

Here’s another snow hate card. What I really wanted to do with this was discourage running snow basics where you don’t have to, and though we have the god in the set that does this I think this is an issue that’s solved with both quality and quantity. I wasn’t sure on the power level of this for standard purposes, but I’d rather this more pushed version than be too weak and have it not do anything against snow.

Common #5:

Shapeshifter’s Trickery 1U

Enchantment- Aura

Enchant Creature

Enchanted creature gets +1/+0, is every creature type, and can’t be blocked.

Not too much to say here really. This is good for the tribal synergies in the set, and is just an innocuous little aura for limited. Not everything is gonna be pushing boundaries.

Common #6:

Draugr Fleshchewer 1B

Snow Creature- Zombie Berserker

Whenever Draugr Fleshchewer attacks, mill two cards. If a snow card was milled this way, Draugr Fleshchewer gains menace until end of turn.

2/2

This originally worked with the “exile a creature card from your graveyard” subtheme, but I had to change this to snow and I couldn’t get a good snowy design that used that mechanic. So instead, it fuels it. I also wanted to have another card that cares about the existence of snow instants/sorceries because they were introduced this set and the number of cards that only work with snow permanent cards when they don’t have to is strange.

Common #7:

Arrogant Stand 3R

Sorcery

Creatures without a boast ability can’t block this turn.

Here’s a simple little card that plays around with the flavorful space of boast. You have to be very full of yourself to stand up to the oncoming attack.

Common #8:

Winterdark Ritual 2R

Snow Instant

Add three mana of any one color.

Foretell R (During your turn, you may pay 2 and exile this card from your hand face down. Cast it on a later turn for its foretell cost.)

Is the name completely on the nose? Absolutely. And I find that hilarious. This is taking advantage of the fact that foretell is payed in multiple payments to turn that into mana storage. And it’s snow, because snow rituals are new to the set, play well, and I don’t think it makes it too powerful, though this has a lot of little factors to it that might push it over the edge. Any number of them could easily be tweaked though.

Common #9:

Blessing of Koma G

Enchantment- Aura

Enchant creature

Enchanted creature has “T: Add one mana of any color.”

2, Sacrifice ~: Draw a card.

This card is secretly also a snow card. The intention is, you can enchant snow creatures with it to get extra snow mana. However, it’s not snow itself because a) I thought that made for a cool moment of discovery and b) If it was snow, a lot of players would mistakenly think the mana is snow whether or not the creature it enchants is.

Common #10:

Boulderskin Troll 3G

Creature- Troll Warrior

When ~ dies, search your library for a Forest or Mountain card and put it onto the battlefield tapped. Shuffle your library.

3/2

I really wanted this card to be red. See, the legend goes that when a troll goes out in the sun it turns into rock and I thought tutoring for a Mountain when it died would be a good way to do that. However, I just couldn’t find a good way to do that which felt red, so I had to make this green. Luckily red/green are the troll colors so it could still find a mountain. I specifically chose nonbasic so that it could synergize with the snow duals at common.

Uncommon #1:

Immerstrum Berserker 3BB

Creature- Demon Berserker

Boast- 2B: ~ gains lifelink until end of turn. (Activate this ability only once each turn and only if this creature attacked this turn.)

Boast- 1B: Each opponent discards a card. (You may activate both boasts in a single turn.)

5/3

It has two boasts. Ya know how most creatures only have one boast, if any? Well not this, it has two. That’s it. That’s the design.

Uncommon #2:

Master Shipcrafter 1R

Creature- Dwarf Artificer

1R: ~ gets +2/+0 until end of turn.

Whenever a creature you control crews a Vehicle for the first time each turn, that Vehicle gains that creature’s activated abilities until end of turn.

0/2

There’s this weird tension in the set where R/W both encourages you to play a lot of vehicles, and has a lot of boast creatures, which do not work well at all together. This card is an attempt to fix that. Originally it just worked with boast, #notallactivatedabilities, but that was an extremely narrow card so I widened the scope. There’s certainly some weird combos you can do with this, but nothing too bad in limited though.

Uncommon #3:

Ring of Kinship 2

Artifact- Equipment

Equipped creature gets +1/+1

Creature spells you cast that share a creature type with equipped creature cost 1 less to cast.

Equip 1

I’m a big fan of equipment and auras that have a universal effect that cares about a quality of the equipped creature. I dunno why, but it tickles me. Creature type is a good thing to care about on designs like this though, and I wanted both an equipment and a tribal reward in the booster, so it was a good fit.

Rare:

Kvasha, God of Magic 3UU

Legendary Creature- God

Flying

When ~ enters the battlefield, create a 1/1 white Spirit creature token with flying for each enchantment you control and each enchantment card in your graveyard.

Sacrifice a Spirit: You may cast spells as though they have flash this turn.

Kvasha’s Birth 2GW

Enchantment- Saga

I, II: Until your next turn, whenever ~ or another enchantment enters the battlefield under your control, draw a card.

III: Mill six cards. Exile ~ then return it to the battlefield face-up.

I’m genuinely really sad they didn’t do a god with a saga as its backside, it could have been really cool. So I made one myself!! I wanted it to at least be feasible as a commander for a Saga deck, and since Kaldheim has a lot of enchantments running around I figured it could use an enchantress like this. The tricky part was, I had to make a blue card that could also feasibly be a selesnya card, since the saga turns into it. It also works well with the tribal themes and the spirit subtype in the set, though that’s more of a bonus than anything else. If you’re wondering why this card looks different, that’s for two reasons. One, I can’t make Sagas on MSE. And two, this overlapped nicely with the Inventor’s Fair contest of the week on tumblr, which I use mtg.design for since it’s easier to get links that way. (Check them out! @inventors-fair That contest is what finally pushed me to finish this booster).

Basic:

Snow-Covered Swamp

Snow Land- Swamp

T: Add B.

Look, it's a snow-covered swamp. I needed a snasic in here. I dunno what else you want from me.

So there we go!! Finally!! The booster challenge that took weeks longer than it should have. What do you think of the designs? Do you think they would fit well within Kaldheim? If not, how could I fix them? Also I probably made a formatting mistake somewhere in here so if you notice like, a wrong link or something let me know. Also, if you want me to tackle an old set feel free to request it, though since this took me weeks for some reason I can’t make any promises lol.

Here’s boosters I’ve done before:

- Zendikar Rising: Reddit

- Commander Legends: Reddit // Tumblr

#mtg #magic #magic the gathering #custommagic #custommtg #kaldheim #booster challenge #long post #original post

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

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Rockstar (Indruck)

A friend on discord, @morganeashton, requested #28 of the meet ugly list for Indruck: I’m a famous singer and you’re the new techie who just tripped and pulled the plug out of my microphone mid-concert [extra awkward if they lip sync, extra badass if they keep singing and their voice is still on point]. This is NSFW.

A peril of high quality sound equipment is that when it goes out, it’s very obvious.

The mic goes, his guitar and Dani’s bass cut out, and the effects are gone. For a moment it’s total silence as the audience watches him.

Then he picks up exactly where he left off, notes coming as easy as breath. After a moment Jake starts up quieter than usual on the drums, giving him rhythm. By the time he finishes, the mic and instruments are back on and the applause is deafening. He smiles to himself.

He’s still got it.

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

Duck knocks on the dressing room door.

He’s so fucking fired.

“Come in.”

Mr. Cold is sitting at a mirror, takes note of Duck’s reflection.

“Ah, Duck, I thought it might be you. Mama said you were the one who disconnected our sound tonight.”

“Yessir. I, uh, it was an accident, I was movin somethin in a tight space and caught my foot on the cord without noticin’. I’m, uh, I’m real sorry, and, uh, I’ll, uh-”

Mr. Cold holds up his hand and Duck shuts his mouth. The singer turns, in his chair, face now free of make-up. His features still have that alien edge to them, the strange mix of young and old that’s made his attractiveness the subject of much debate. Duck knows where he falls on it; anyone who thinks Indrid Cold is anything other than sex on legs should get their eyes checked.

That won’t help him, he knows that.

Indrid leans back in his chair, “you don’t need to plead your case to me Duck, for two reasons. One is that I’m not the one in charge of hiring or firing the road crew. That falls to Mama and Joseph completely, and if I ever tried to toss someone out for an accident they’d put me in my place very quickly. But more importantly, I’m not angry with you for what happened. Quite the opposite.”

“You...wait, really?”

Mr. Cold counts off on his fingers, “The space was small, so everyone could still hear me. There’s been rumors I’ve been using a dub, so this ought to quell them nicely, and” he looks at Duck over his trademark red glasses, smile widening, “it was unexpected, something that’s rare for me these days. When you get to this level of fame, everyone is terrified of not having a flawlessly executed plan. But that is not how the world is; it’s not how art is. So it was nice to have the chance to show everyone that the unexpected can be invigorating. Thank you for that.”

“You’re, uh, you’re welcome?”

Mr. Cold smiles as he stands up, “you should sit down, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“It’s fine, uh-”

The singer simply rests a hand on his shoulder and gently pushes. Duck sits.

“Would you, ah, like a drink? The hosts here left a very nice bottle of tequila.”

“Sure.” Duck tries not to stare as he bends over to retrieve a glass and a bottle, pouring Duck a shots worth of tequila that costs more than his rent. Duck mumbles a thank you when he hands it to him, then gawps when Mr. Cold sets the bottle aside and retrieves a Capri Sun from the mini-fridge.

“I can’t stand alcohol. Used to try for the sake of fitting in but” he makes a face like a disgusted cat, “eech. One moment, I need to change.” He disappears around a corner, leaving Duck to wonder what the fuck the polite thing to do is. Mr. Cold is always polite to his crew, but he keeps to himself much of the time. Not to mention Duck’s only been with them since the tour started a month ago.

A photo on the table catches his eye, and he scoots his chair closer to get a look.

“Was, uh, was this an alternate cover or somethin?”

“Hmm? Oh” a light laugh, “no, though you’ve got a good eye; we shot it the same day we shot the cover image for The Cryptids. That was a shot that was nixed because we looked too silly, I think Vincent had said something funny and cracked Barclay up, who set me off. I bring it with me to every show, a sort of good luck charm mixed with a reminder of where I came from.”

From the faded photo, nineteen year old Indrid Cold smiles at him.

“I take it you’re a long time fan, then.” Mr. Cold reappears in a pink and yellow bathrobe, the last color scheme Duck would have assumed he owned.

“Yeah, over a decade. I, uh, I was sixteen when The Cryptids released their first album. Scraped together fifteen bucks to buy the C.D and wore the damn thing out I listened to it so much. Never heard anything like it. That’s, uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “that’s not why I took the job, though. Mama didn’t tell me who I’d be crewin’ for until after I accepted.”

“If you’re afraid of looking like a ‘fanboy,’ don’t be. Do you know how Joseph came to be our manager?”

“Uh, story I always heard was he came backstage during a show on your first tour and offered.”

Mr. Cold chuckles, “he did. But what very few people know is that he came back in his lovingly homemade ‘Bigfoot’s Boy’ t-shirt and a a lot of glitter--remember, that was the E.T tour so everyone was space themed--clearly having left the house with the intent of trying to get into our bassist’s pants, and instead proceeded to tell us he’d seen how our manager operated through the night and we could so better and here’s how.”

“Jesus.”

“He was remarkably intimidating in spite of the glitter and his argument was airtight. So we fired Hayes and hired him. He did eventually bang our bassist, but that was perhaps obvious.”

“Given that they’ve been married for like five years, yeah. Still can’t believe Barclay went from beiin a rockstar to bein’ a chef.”

“He was always an ingenious cook. He once made breakfast using nothing but the still-hot engine of a mini-van.”

“AGH, god, why?”

“We were broke and hungry and there was nowhere to buy food.”

“That’s hardcore.”

“Mostly just oily.” Mr. Cold grabs another Capri Sun, sitting down across from him, “hmm, if you were sixteen when we started, did you ever get to see us?”

Duck shakes his head, “only kinda. Y’all mainly played twenty-one plus places even after you started gettin big, then you weren’t tourin nearby. When you announced the farewell tour, my friend Juno and I drove to Richmond to hear y’all play from outside the stadium. She’s still got a picture of us from that night somewhere, all geared out, tryin to look cool enough to be there.”

“You’ll have to let me see it, so I can determine if you pass muster.” Mr. Cold teases.

“I ask if she can send me it. Christ, I remember bein’ so fuckin bummed when y’all announced The Cryptids were disbanding, then so fuckin relieved when you said you were gonna keep makin new stuff and performin just as Indrid Cold. Your voice is fuckin amazin.”

“That’s not always the word used.”

“So you don’t sound like Bruno Mars or some pop diva, big fuckin’ deal. You sing and people listen because they ain’t ever heard anyone like you. No one in the world sounds like Indrid Cold.”

The singer gives him an odd smile, “that’s very kind of you to say.”

“Sorry, guess there’s still some fanboy hidin’ out under the roadie.” His cheeks heat up as he finishes his drink.

“I think we should both get some rest.” Mr. Cold stands, ushering him to the door, “and that we should talk again sometime. And thank you again, Duck, for your happy accident.”

‘You’re welcome, Mr. Cold.”

A famous smile that’s never stopped being weirdly captivating, “please, call me Indrid.”

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

“You sure Indrid wants me on the bus and not just to, I dunno, load it?”

“Yes indeed.” Ned, Indrid’s publicity man, gestures grandly to the open door of the tour bus, “now kindly get yourself and your bag on it so we can get a move on.”

Duck climbs aboard, awkwardly sets his bag on the carrier shelf as he nods hello to Boyd, Indrid’s driver and part time bodyguard.

Indrid is lounging on a black couch, but sits up when he sees Duck, “ah good, you decided to join me.”

“Yep. Uh, did you ask me for a reason or?”

“I like talking with you.” Indrid cocks his head, as if puzzled by the question. Duck wants to point out that the a god of the alt scene, a musical genius, who could have anyone he wanted for company, seeming to be excited by hanging out with a roadie is a bit confusing.

Indrid, meanwhile, is shoving drawings and notes aside so Duck can sit down, “mind you, I don’t expect you entertain me or something; I’m working on some poster art right now, for that fundraiser, so if you have things you like to do on the road, you’re welcome to do them. My room is that way if you want to nap, and it has a t.v as well if you want to watch something. Oh, and we have wi-fi, of course.”

He sounds like a college kid showing off his first apartment and it wrong-foots Duck enough that he just grabs his book from the pocket of his bag.

“Thanks, uh, think I’ll read for a bit.”

Indrid grins, goes back to his drawing, pen scratching hurriedly as the bus jolts to a start and pulls onto the road.

After awhile, Indrid glances at him and asks mildly, “what was your favorite album? Of The Cryptids, I mean, not my solo stuff.”

Duck taps the spine of the book against the table as he thinks, “I mean The Cryptids has that whole edge by bein’ the first, because there was nothin like hearin’ your sound for the first time. But I gotta say...Unsolved. Whole thing is fuckin amazin, but your vocals on “To a Flame” still give me fuckin chills.”

“I haven’t played that song in a long time.” Indrid says softly, smiling, “it was always a favorite. I wrote it about someone I could never have.”

“You can feel it. In, uh, in the way it’s arranged, the way you sing, gives this whole feelin of someone who’s decided to love someone completely even though they’ll never be loved back.”

Indrid looks at him a moment, that same odd, small smile quirking his lips, then returns to his drawing. When the road gets bumpier, they move to a couch in the middle of the bus with a low table nearby. Duck pulls out his laptop and plugs in his headphones, pulls up Planet Earth as Indrid’s head starts drooping. Two episodes in, the singer falls asleep, flopping sideways so his head is in Duck’s lap.

He should move him, Indrid will probably think this is weird when he wakes up. Then again, he looks so cute like this. And it’d be rude to wake him up.

Duck’s to the episode on jungles when a slender, tan hand reaches up and plucks his left earbud out. Startled, he looks down to find Indrid putting it on and adjusting his head in Duck’s lap, clearly engrossed in the carnivorous plants onscreen.

“Do you want me to just turn the normal sound on?”

“No” Indrid murmurs sleepily, “this is perfect.”

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

Duck assumes the bus will be a one-time event, but he’s ridden with Indrid each time since. Which is why, when his phone dings, Indrid is sitting right beside him.

“Looks like Juno found the, uh, the photo.”

“Let me see” Indrid grabs the phone from him, cackling with delight when he sees the image, “you two were really the pair of cryptozoologists, weren’t you?”

“Told you we were tryin too hard.”

“On the contrary, I love it, it’s exactly the kind of weirdness we wanted to inspire in people. And if seems you did like to collect our merch, that shirt you’re wearing was a limited run.”

“I know. I, uh, I saved up for it, way I always did if something had art of yours on it.” He slaps his hand over his mouth, embarrassed by the admission.

“That’s very sweet.” Indrid smiles at him, then lifts his glasses for a better look, “what does the collar you’re wearing say?”

“I, uh, fuck, I don’t remember, got, uh, got amnesia, collar specific amnesia, fuck, uh-”

“C, O, L...you were wearing a collar with my name on it.” Indrid’s grin takes on a hungry edge, “someone was downplaying whose fanboy he was.”

“I, I didn’t want you thinkin I was creepy, or that I was just bein nice to you because of the crush I had on you in college.”

“I don’t, I promise, though I appreciate the consideration. Here” he hands the phone back, but as Duck takes it he leans in and whispers, “but you really should wear a collar more often.”

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

“Sooooo how’s it going with Indrid?” Aubrey, Indrid’s magician opening act, sits down next to Duck at dinner.

“Good. Wait, shit, are people talkin about us?”

“Kinda? I mean, Indrid hangs out with the band, and with me, plenty, but none of us get to be on that bus. Not like I’m complaining, Dani and I have our own sweet ride.”

“There ain’t anythin goin on between us. It just...Indrid seem like he likes bein’ friends with me.”

“That’s awesome!”

“Yeah” Duck sighs, wistfully, “y’know, it’s funny. Even after I started workin here, he was still Indrid Cold in my head, the guy who sang like he was diggin down in my head, who did wild shit like kiss his male bandmates on stage, who was always so fuckin cool. And now he’s Indrid, this guy who’s kinda awkward and wears way more pink than I assumed and flaps his hands when gets excited and somehow that’s even better.”

“Awww, someone has a cruuUUshh.”

“Had, Aubrey. Had.”

“Whatever you say, Duck” she winks at him, “whatever you say.”

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

“Are these yours?”

Duck shakes himself awake. They’ve been driving all evening and well into the night, and he must have nodded off and knocked his notebook over. Which is why Indrid is now holding several sheets of loose paper.

“Shit! I mean, uh, yeah, but they ain’t anythin special.”

“I didn’t know you wrote songs.” Indrid scans the pages with a critical eye.

“Sometimes. Like I said, they ain’t anythin to make a fuss over.”

Indrid makes a noncommittal noise and picks up a nearby guitar, tuning it, “you can go back to sleep, I’m just going to fiddle about for a bit.”

Duck lays down on the couch, and falls asleep to the sound of Indrid’s hums.

He’s shaken awake two hours later, and is thoroughly confused to find Indrid in tight black pants and silvery shirt, black boots on his feet and a deep green on his lips; that’s his stagewear, not his pajamas.

“Put on your most punk-rock outfit, and make it fast.”

He manages to get an old Cryptids t-shirt on along with black jeans that, if he does say so himself, make his ass look good, and is tugging on his boots when the bus pulls into a dusty parking lot.

“It’s the only goth/gay bar in the county.” Indrid says by way of explanation as he pulls Duck out the door, Boyd following them as Ned stays behind to watch the van (“in case we need to make a hasty retreat”).

“Wait, holy fuck, I always thought that was a myth, that you would stop at random clubs and play.”

“Not in the least, though it’s been awhile. Ooh, whoever is already playing sounds very good.” He pushes open the door, the smell of smoke and stale beer and sweat pouring over them in waves as they enter. Indrid keeps to the side of the room, holding Duck’s hand all the while, and spots the tiny merch table with “The Hornets” painted on a yellow sign on the front.

“Wait for me here.” He kisses Duck’s cheek and disappears into the crowd. When the band finishes the song, a youngish woman waves them over to the side of the stage, strangers in the crowd turning to each other to ask what the fuck is going on.

The guitarist and lead singer reappears, giant H on their shirt, and grabs the mic, “y’all aren’t gonna believe this, but the Hornets have just acquired a new singer and it’s gonna blow your fucking minds. Give it up for one of the gods of horror-surf, the grinning man, the mothman himself, Indrid fucking Cold!”

The crowd screams loud enough to shake an entire coat of dust from the walls as Indrid steps on stage, beaming and waving.

“Thank you very much, Hollis. I’ve got four songs for you tonight, including something very, very new. So, without further ado” he grabs the mic, flicks his hair, “let’s prowl.”

The Hornets launch into the opening notes of “on the prowl,” the crowd cheering and hooting and singing along with so much energy that Duck can’t hear Indrid’s voice until the last verse. He claps along with everyone else as Indrid takes the mic of the stand, “and here’s one I haven’t sung in far too long.”

The bass and guitar start in a minor key, half country swing and half horror sting.

“Always on the outs, always in the dark.” Indrid shuts his eyes as he croons, “always so hungry for one little spark. Always so willing to play your game. What can I say? I’m like a moth to flame.”

Duck knows the song by heart but he’s never heard Indrid sing it live, like there was someone in the room he was hoping would hear it and know it was for them. He doesn’t breathe until the song ends; he doesn’t want to miss a single note, miss the way Indrid’s voice curls around the room as if searching for him.

As the crowd applauds at the end, Indrid crosses to Hollis, who hands him their guitar. He loops it over his shoulder, returns the mic to the stand.

“Now, this next song is very special, it doesn’t have an arrangement yet, so you’ll have to live with just my melodious voice.” He picks the guitar, brow furrowed in concentration, and Duck gasps.

He knows this song, he’s just never heard it played anywhere but inside his head. Indrid sings it flawlessly, the crowd swaying in time with him, and Duck realizes he must have practiced nonstop while he was asleep.

The short song comes to a close and he tilts his head, “what did you think?”

The audience bursts out cheering and Indrid grins, “yes, that’s about how I feel too. I can’t take credit though, it was written by a friend.”

He returns the guitar, nods to the band, and purrs into the mic, “the sun goes down and the moon comes up.”

Shit how did he know? Does he know? He can’t know.

He can’t know this is the song Duck used to jack off to. A cover of a cover, a video where Indrid growls and purrs and nearly fucks the mic as he sings.

“You better duck, when I show up, the goo goo muck” he writhes in time with the music, “I’m a nightmare, honey, looking for some head.”

God, fuck, how could he have forgotten just how Indrid sounds when he sings this, like the monster under the bed came to life, turned out to be hot, and really wants to fuck you. Indrid is on his knees now, working the front row, dragging his free hand across his body with moans between the words.

“He must really like you, mate.”

“Gahfuck, Boyd.” Duck jumps, but doesn’t take his eyes off the stage.

“I’m just sayin’, he’s never let anyone come to one of these before. I only do because Stern’ll kill us if we let him go without some kind of backup.” Boyd pats his shoulder, heading back towards the door.

Indrid finishes the song panting, the Hornets looking harried from keeping up with his energy. As the crowd screams and claps he bows, and hurries off the stage. In cries for an encore and the darkened house, Indrid finds him again, grabbing his hand and sprinting outside.

“God I missed doing that!” He laughs as they run, “did you have fun?”

“Fuck yeah, Indrid, fuck, you really liked my song?”

“Of course. And it seems they did too.” The bus doors close behind them, but Indrid doesn;t stop moving, “we’re both very tired, going to bed now, goodnight!”

Duck’s about to point out he sleeps on the pullout couch, not the bed, when the bedroom door slams shut and Indrid yanks him into a kiss, tongue in his mouth and hands in his back pockets, groping him with a growl.

When Indrid breaks the kiss, Duck’s certain he has stars in his eyes.

“Is this alright?”

“Hell fuckin yeah it is.”

“Good” Indrid shoves him backwards onto the bed, “shirt off.”

Duck obeys, Indrid stripping his own away and tossing it on the ground. As Duck fights with his jeans, Indrid retrieves a condom and something black from a box, setting them on the bed. He notices his struggle and shakes his head as he prowls on top of him, “ah ah, we don’t have time for that.”

“Butmmmmfff” Duck gasps and moans as Indrid kisses him again, demanding and messy.

“Get them low enough for me to fuck you.” He bites Duck’s lip and sits up, wiggling his own black pants down enough to free his cock. By the time he gets them free one leg and down to his knee on the other, Indrid has the condom on.

Indrid tosses away his glasses, gives him a long once over, licking his lips, “good boy.”

Then he’s on top of him again, cock inside him and fingers tangled in his hair.

“Oh fuck, you’re soaking, god, what got you so wound up, hm?”

“You, just you, watching you, Indrid, god please fuck me.”

“Gladly, goodness, fuck, that’s it sweetheart, you take me so well.” Indrid hammers into him again and again, kissing him each time he whimpers or moans.

Duck wraps his legs around him, manages to get his head up enough to tease his tongue along Indrid’s nipple.

“AH! Good boy, mmmm, I knew you’d be perfect to fuck.” He adjusts so he can run his hand up Duck’s throat. There’s no pressure in the gesture, but plenty of possession.

“What do you think, shall we get you a new collar?”

“Yes, yesyesyes, Indrid, god, fuck please.”

“Oh you like that, mmm” he switches to slow, deliberate thrusts, a counterpoint to Duck’s frantically jerking hips that makes them moan in tandem, “we could get you several, would you like that? I could put them on you according to my mood and what I wanted you to be that day.”

Duck means to say yes, whines instead, grinning breathlessly when Indrid strokes his cheek.

“Good. I’d like it, too. Nnnh, god I’m close.” He stops entirely, awkwardly shifts and pulls them until he’s on his knees with Ducks ass in his lap, “but I want you to cum first.”

“I, I can try.”

“It was an order.” He reaches down, revealing the black object from earlier; a vibrating wand.

“Oh fuck yeah, fuckFUCK” his legs thrash when the vibe presses against his dick, “Indrid, sugar, ohmyfuckinggod.”

Indrid grins, wide and wanton, and turns the toy up, eyes flicking between Ducks face and cock as he cries out and bucks his hips.

“What a good boy, getting my cock so wet” he wiggles his hips with a moan, “you feel delightful when I use this on you, perhaps tomorrow I’ll have you sit on my cock and do the same thing over and over again, edge myself with the feeling of you needy and tightening around me.”

“Indrid, fuckplease, yes, yes, fuck, I’m so fuckin close darlin, ple-fuck, ‘Drid!” He cums with groan, whole body shaking as pleasure overloads his nerves.

The vibrator thunks to the floor as Indrid lunges forward, pinning him to the bed and fucking him hard and fast, cock thudding into him in time with his purring groans.

“So, so good, my Duck, so very good, god, yes, yesyes” he’s moving so violently Duck is now grunting from the force of the impact, “that’s it, good boy, take what I give youAHHnnn, Duck, Duck.” His hips slow as he groans, Duck drinking in the sight of him, orgasmic and loving above him.

Indrid pulls out, condom hitting what is hopefully the trash and not his guitar case, and immediately curls around Duck, kissing his neck and face.

“Thank you, thankyouthankyou.”

Duck giggles, kisses him back, “why are you thankin me? I’m the one who just got to fuck a rockstar. You got to fuck some regular dipshit.” He bumps their foreheads together to show he’s teasing.

“Incorrect. I got to fuck you. You, who are funny and charming and to the point, and who has taught me a remarkable amount about plants.”

“S’important to have hobbies.” Duck mumbles into his shoulder.

“Indeed. My point is, you make me happier than I’ve been in a long, long time. And while fucking you has been on my mind has been on my mind lately, it was not actually what I planned to do first. I, ah, I” he rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, hides his face in his neck, “I wanted to ask if you wanted to be my boyfriend.”

“Hell fuckin yeah.” Duck hugs him tight as he laughs with relief, “Indrid, I wanna be with you, the real you, not the one I had the crush on all those years ago. I wanna make you happy.”

“You do that just by existing, but I have some other ideas as well.”

“Oh yeah?” Duck kisses his nose.

“Well, for starters” Indrid’s eyes gleam as he looks up at him, “how would you like to write some music with me, boyfriend?”

“I think that sounds fuckin amazin. Boyfriend.”

#indruck #rockstar au #indrid cold/duck newton #meet ugly #prompt fills

37 notes · View notes

unicyclehippo · 4 years

Note

Beaujester. 89?

89. “You’re holding back.”

there’s no way—and no point—to lie to dairon, but damn if beau isn’t gonna try.

‘no i’m not.’ nailed it.

dairon cocks their head to the side, eyes narrowing in a manner that is horribly familiar, what with beau having had the stuffing beaten out of her a dozen dozen times over after getting that exact look from her mentor.

‘care to revise that statement?’

‘no.’

‘hmm.’

dairon moves in a blur of speed, and it’s all beau can do to keep up; dodging and weaving, slapping attacks to the side and using dairon’s height against her, ducking down and into her space to come up and—dairon’s hands settle on either side of beau’s neck, light, sweet, fingers barely grazing over the thundering pulse.

‘too slow,’ she tells beau, who has only a moment to get out a choked,

‘oh fuck,’

before dairon’s hands slip up a fraction to place her thumbs just so beneath beau’s jaw, and where the fleshy triangle of muscle bridges neck and collar. beau’s body seizes and, in the moment before dairon’s stun wears off, she wanders behind beau and simply taps at those points they both know will force the truth out of her.

the stun washes out of her and beau sags, spins to face dairon, fists raised. spots blink across her vision momentarily and her thoughts slide sideways. her attack goes wide—inexcusably so—and dairon looks furious. she plants a hand on beau’s chest and shoves, sending her falling to the floor.

‘stay. there,’ dairon commands. ‘you and i are going to have a little chat.’

super, just what i wanted, beau tries to say, and finds the words choked before they can get out, those points of ki flaring and juddering painfully when she tries to lie. ‘you know this shit messes with my sarcasm?’ beau does manage to say.

‘good. at least some earthly force manages to do so. i had begun to despair.’

dairon settles beside her, snags beau by the collar and slams her down—not painfully, just forcefully—when she tries to make a break for it.

‘come now, beauregard, is an honest discussion so dreadful to you?’

‘yes.’

dairon blinks, a sign of true shock from them. ‘mm.’ they nod, fold their arms over their chest.

beau waits. feels the concentrated ki grip her system, destabilise the focus, the steadiness of her own. ‘what are you doing?’

‘waiting.’

‘what for?’

‘for it to wear off,’ dairon says, as though that should be obvious. ‘if it is....so distressing to you, i will not ask you questions now.’

‘...really?’

‘i am your teacher, beauregard, not your master, not your imprisoner. i can be harsh. i try not to be cruel.’

something tightly knotted inside beau’s chest eases a little. ‘okay.’ eventually, the effect ends and beau cracks the stiffness out of her neck and jaw. ‘let’s get this over with.’

‘impatient.’

‘surprising?’

dairon’s lips quirk upwards. ‘no.’ they take a moment to consider beau, with the same intensity they use in a fight but instead of that lightning intuition for where beau’s body will be, where she’ll move, dairon is looking at her.

‘see something you like?’

dairon ignores that. as always. ‘i will say this as gently as possible,’ they say, voice deadpan. ‘you fought like shit today.’

‘ow?’ beau jokes, but dairon doesn’t smile or relent.

‘you telegraphed your movement far ahead of moving, you were distracted, you pulled your punches. i am disappointed.’

‘oh.’

it’s a strange sinking feeling, like falling out of the sky. beau hardly feels the hard-packed sand beneath her as she falls, pulse rushing in her ears, her entire body going hot. she wonders distantly if this is some new kind of technique of the cobalt soul—advanced soul destroying, or something—as she tries to remember how to breathe, how to settle herself. her eyelids flutter.

nicodranas, the wide open ocean. blue as far as the eye can see.

‘i do not say this to be cruel, beauregard,’

‘i dunno, you managed it pretty well.’

‘i say it because i am concerned. you are better than this—you nearly beat me in that fight in the city of beasts,’

‘i did best you,’ beau is quick to deny. ‘i just pulled my punches so you didnt lose your disguise.’

dairon blinks. stares blankly at beau for a moment. ‘anyway,’ they say, tone crisp and staggeringly full of disbelief, ‘there is something troubling you. what is it?’

it’s potent, the want to talk to dairon. beau is sure a little of it has to do with minor internal bleeding and also the crushing, awful sense of disappointing her mentor. but that could be purposeful, dairon has shown clearly so many times they’re good at reading people, at manipulating them, and beau hasn’t exactly proved hard to manipulate in the past if one knows the buttons to push. and dairon has slammed the shit out of a half dozen of them in the last minute so...

an old, half-forgotten tendril of spite holds beau’s tongue still. dairon doesn’t seem to notice or mind, just sits and waits for beau to answer.

the minutes stretch on.

‘would tea help?’

‘who are you, caduceus? no.’

dairon shrugs. ‘very well. are you silent because you do not wish to tell me, or because you cannot find the words?’

‘i dunno.’ dairon lifts a brow. ‘both, i guess.’

oddly enough, admitting that makes dairon smile. ‘you are never easy, are you?’

‘i mean, depends on the context,’ beau tells her, waggles her brows until dairon puts their face in the palm of their hand. elegantly, gracefully, but inarguably face in palm. ‘but ah, no.’ she thinks about her mother and father telling her as much, those few people she had tried to befriend. her own team mates reminding her of her harsher, less tolerated qualities. ‘no,’ she admits, quietly. ‘i’m not.’

a warm touch on beau’s wrapped hands makes her start, but it is just dairon laying their hand on hers. they seem to find it as awkward as beau does because they pull back a moment later.

‘what is bothering you, beauregard?’

‘everything?’

‘tell me one thing,’ dairon instructs. ‘we shall work from there.’

‘what for? this isn’t - this isn’t necessary,’ she tells dairon, scratching at her neck, her undercut. ‘i’ll just do better next time.’

‘unless there is a change, you will not. that is not an insult, that is a fact. one improves from mistakes by assessing, learning, and changing accordingly. so. we assess.’ dairon nods, as if saying, go ahead.

beau feels that tightness in her throat again, the overwhelming pressure that seems to trip something in her, tells her the moment she says anything she can’t get that shit back. it’ll be out there, it’ll be real to more than just herself.

‘beauregard,’ dairon says quietly, dark eyes seemingly reading deep into beau’s stiff shoulders, the way her fingers catch together and twist hard, almost punishingly. ‘trust me. to be able to hear what you tell me and not use it against you.’

is that what she’s scared of? fuck. maybe it is.

‘i’m scared.’ beau has to force the words out. can’t quite look at dairon as she does. ‘all the time.’

‘of what?’

‘not being fast enough. strong enough.’

‘no,’ dairon shakes her head. ‘that isn’t it.’

‘oh, so you know what’s in my head now?’

‘i know fear. what happens if you aren’t strong or fast enough, beauregard?’

images flash through beau’s mind. caleb, with a legion of men behind him, their heads aflame. fjord, pressing an orb into his chest, his eyes turning the same colour, his body contorting and cracking and lengthening, scales hardening across green skin. nott, drowning. cad, wasting away. jester, taken. jester, hurt. jester, dying. jester,

‘i need to protect them,’ she says. ‘all of them. and i—‘ her eyes are burning, all of a sudden. it takes a moment to realise she is crying and her breath catches in horror, hands flinging up to hide the evidence, wipe the tears away. ‘i can’t,’ she tells dairon.

‘no, you can’t.’ dairon sets their hand on beau’s again. this time, she doesn’t move away. ‘you got attached,’ they add, tone without reproach.

beau snorts, a gross wet snort. ‘yeah. fuck.’

‘you got very attached.’ beau shrugs a shoulder, doesn’t deny it. ‘your jester is strong, beauregard. your group is strong. you must find a way to trust in that, to not let your fears over take you. it is much easier said than done,’ dairon confesses. ‘but you, you are capable. beyond capable. i have faith,’ she says simply. ‘and another half day to train you. up on your feet.’

#cr tag #tagging my stories #prompt fill

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astrologysvt · 4 years

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Chart First Impressions - Vernon

For more SVT astrology posts, follow my blog! Check out my masterlist to see all the readings I’ve done so far and what I’ve got coming up! 💫

This is just a very general reading of the member’s charts — the parts that popped out to me, things I personally liked, things I thought were interesting or contrary to the image I have of them. I’m not looking at anything in particular with each reading. Some of their readings may be more aspect focused, where some may just focus solely on their personal planets and their signs. If you have any questions on specific aspects or want to request a more specific reading, feel free to send me an ask!

two aquarians down, one more to go.

so i do feel the need to explain why i’m not here arguing why i think vernon or even dk may be either a pisces/aquarius sun.

(tho tbh if either of them were to lean towards pisces, i think it’d be vernon).

but really for me it just comes down to the fact they feel very clearly aquarian.

with woozi, his energies were a lot more vague/muddled and harder to organize where as it’s a lot simpler and cleaner a break with these two aqua/pisces cusps.

generally, aqua and pisces influences feel very different to me.

for me to consider them more pisces, i would be looking for them to appear much more yielding within a group and i don’t get that sense.

i’d also be looking for a certain degree of people-pleasing, or at least a strong courtesy towards how they contribute to the room’s energy. an aqua wouldn’t be as conscientious of this. they may be aware of it, but they wont let themselves be inhibited by it. where as a pisces would be hyper aware of this and very cautious.

not only that, but i’m not looking charts that would be void of explanation on either sign/element’s influence if they leaned either way.

woozi had no other scorpio in his chart if his sun wasn’t in scorpio.

where as with vernon, regardless of whether he’s an aqua or pisces sun, he’s still got a strong aqua and pisces influence in his chart to begin with so his reading wouldn’t be drastically different if he turned out to be a pisces sun.

similar with dk, where as his cancer influence in tandem with his aqua and libra would make it so the rest of his reading wouldn’t be horribly compromised.

if either one of them were to end up being a pisces sun, my reading of them would still be very similar just reorganized.

where as with jihoon, it was an entirely different story.

so it’s a mixture of pisces and aquas being a lot easier to differentiate than sag/scorpio, and also their charts having both influences in their other personal planets that i’m not too stressed about figuring their suns out.

but lets focus back on vernon.

his sun and mercury is in aqua.

i think vernon exemplifies exactly what i expect with an aquarius — like picture perfect artsy-brand aquarius.

his style (for one) has been so clearly created by him without any regard with what everyone else is doing.

and i think this is an important distinction to make with aquarians.

a lot of people like to think that aquarians like to be contrary for the sake of being contrary, and tbh i do know enough aquarians to know that sometimes that IS the case (but i dunno i think they just like messing with me)

but i do genuinely believe that when it comes to art and their work, the stuff that they do is genuinely so unique and out there because that’s just how their mind’s work.

for example, if you’re looking at a painting you’re generally going to focus on the focal points of them. the subject, the name of the painting, the artist, maybe context if ur interested. you’re going to take the evidence given to you to try and form a linear narrative. you’re going to focus on what you think the painter wants you to notice.

whereas an aquarius is naturally drawn elsewhere, maybe the background. maybe they’re noticing how it looks with the other paintings around it, or how the light is hitting it. maybe their placing the painting in a wild alternative universe and creating a story around it.

they’re less concerned with building a narrative around what the painter is trying to show, and is more concerned with finding new, uncovered things about it.

and that’s kinda a very vague glimpse into how aquarians build these crazy alternative worlds and perspectives they live in.

aquarians are a very progressive sign, this is certainly because they have a strong set of principles that lean very humanitarian.

but it’s also because they simply hate whatever may threaten one’s ability to exert autonomy over themselves, their expression, and how people perceive/treat them.

whether it’s them personally, or generally, or symbolically.

i don’t think it’s a direct correlation (like he thinks this way because he’s an aquarian) but when he was on happy together and they were talking about how his korean was very good and he was like “i mean, i AM korean.”

this is a very aquarian thing to want to blur the lines, and encourage people around them too approach these potentially hard to understand concepts simply and a matter-of-factly.

(tho i think in this specific instance he was really just combating the perception that he was more foreign to the MCs than he actually was).

anyway, back to aquas being lovable weirdos.

i like to think that the many ways aquas like to present themselves isn’t just for show/for the sake of being different.

sometimes it certainly takes a very physical/in your face form such as with fashion, but i like to think that they dress and act the way they do because they like being in the state of opposition and friction.

by having this imagine of themselves reflected back to them in how drastically different the other side is, that is something that both gives them excitement as well as a sense of comfort through purpose and identity.

they like sticking out because it’s a declaration of their character.

not only that, but they love the ease of just doing what they want without having to think or feel the weight of “what is everyone else going to think?”

that freedom is very important to them.

how interesting is it tho that we’ve got two aqua suns with water moons??

vernon’s scorpio moon is gonna be VERY different from dk’s cancer moon.

as social as an aqua can be in concept, they can really and honestly go either way.

either they are the popular kid whose in every extracurricular and is student council president, or they’re the kid sitting in the corner who just doodles all day in class.

you throw in a scorpio moon and it really makes him a pretty solitary guy.

extreme lone wolf vibes.

he likes being by himself, and it’s partially cuz the world is loud and his mind is entertaining in and of itself, and partially him being an incredibly independent and self-sufficient person.

he’s got the least social chart in all of seventeen, and any anti-social behaviors he may have simply come from the fact that looking outwards to others is not in his immediate logic.

it’s not in his muscle memory.

if he gets excited about a project, he’s probably going to lock himself up in his room and burry himself in it, as opposed to getting others involved.

“i need to get something? great i can leave right now.”

he doesn’t think to ask others if they wanna go because they aren’t a part of his immediate checklist that’s integral to his day/wellbeing.

his energies churn inwardly, and this is also why you find him just sitting around staring into space.

not because he doesn’t want to talk to people or doesn’t care about people, but because he’s very comfortable living in his mind and simply doesn’t care to experiment too much with his immediate effect on the world around him.

you take someone like jun who has so much energy bubbling in him, he can’t help but start doing things just to see what will happen and how people will react.

vernon may have a similar curiosity, but it’s much more imaginative, abstract, and isolated. he can play out those scenarios in his mind.

and this has many facets to it: his aqua influence makes him inventive and original in his thoughts where he as absolutely no shortage of daydream material. you throw in that pisces mars that is half daydreaming all the time, and that scorpio moon that makes him very intentionally reserved/independent and you’ve got vernon.

so vernon’s scorpio moon is everything we’ve talked about before about water moons: empathetic, intuitive, sensitive.

i think his scorpio moon is more interesting because of the darkness that a scorpio influence implies.

there’s a alarming depth from where his emotions rise from, which is surprising considering how chill he seems outwardly.

when it comes to his emotions, whatever it is, he wants them unabashed and unfiltered. no shame whatsoever.

this is due to his scorpio influence’s desire for authenticity, but also his aqua influence’s deep dislike for the superficial.

this would make him very discerning and generally pretty good at knowing when someone is trying to manipulate him, though his pisces mars may confuse him here and there.

he’d really be great for any deep, wild, out-there, maybe even taboo conversations you may wanna have.

pretty much anything would be on the table.

this is because his aqua influence would be prepared to entertain anything and everything, and is equally prepared take it seriously as you do.

while his scorpio moon isn’t particularly afraid of whatever you may bring up, and is pretty attracted to the more out-there topics.

it’d honestly just take a lot to really freak him out, and he’s really just open/excited to entertain any random idea you may have.

even if he reacts viscerally or even negatively, he’s still very slow to write something off.

his scorpio moon is sextile his cap venus

this softens his chart up a little bit, may mellow out his out-there qualities and give him a greater appreciation for more classy & romantic things.

this makes him more fluid in his interactions with people than his forthright aqua and unyielding scorpio may connote.

wonwoo has this same aspect, too, actually.

this would make him much more dynamic and flexible in how he expresses/receives affection.

would certainly also make him a lot more dedicated and stable in relationships than a aqua/pisces influence may imply where normally aqua wants independence and pisces may not be as present.

then you also have his scoprio moon trine pisces mars.

this is the aspect that really turns this chart upside down on it’s head imo.

aqua, scorpio, cap? they sound ready to fight at the drop of the hat.

but you have water meeting water in this trine, and this very seamless exchange of energies between emotion and action really turns him into this amazing peace-keeper because of how level-headed it makes him.

i think i remember they were talking in svt club about how vernon never gets angry, and if he gets angry it’s probably because other people are fighting and he’s like.

“i don’t get this. why?”

this is because he really doesn’t understand how people can get so swept by emotion that they’d start arguing with each other.

and he feels this way because, with a harmonious aspect between moon and mars, energy flows through him incredibly smoothy and easily.

good, bad, sad, excited. all that fun stuff flows through him and doesn’t experience much of a road block, and so with that he’s not only very familiar with the passing of these emotions, but he’s able to process and regulate them pretty easily without trying.

this would make him that excitable, expressive, reactive vernon we know and love because the emotions just flow through him.

but this would also mean that, because of that, he understands how to ride the waves of his emotions so that they don’t end up sweeping him in their undercurrent.

so when people do get into these heated arguments, he struggles to understand why they’d handle it in certain ways.

with that being said, he does have his moon square mercury which means he isn’t the BEST at communicating his thoughts on this matter.

he wants to so badly to put everything he feels into comprehensible words and concepts because of his aqua mercury.

but that aqua mercury may make his viewing/expression too far reaching to understand, while his scorpio moon may make his emotions hard to grasp and translate in the first place.

at the end of the day, his way of thinking is far too intuitive and abstract to put into words.

so, lmao, don’t invite him to mediate ur next fight. he’ll probs just confuse you both.

but if you need someone to chill with to cool you off and calm you down? he’s great because all that water turns him into this fantastic shock-absorber, and as i said before, his aqua/scorpio means that almost anything is on the table.

the last thing i’ll talk about is his pisces mars!

he’s a gentle, gentle boy.

if it wasn’t obvious enough already, there really isn’t a single angry bone in his body (that’s an exaggeration, we’re all capable of anger).

but he has such a gentle approach to life thanks to this pisces mars, and he goes about this with such sincerity and it’s so unfiltered and out there that you can’t help but appreciate how earnest he is, no matter how weird at the same time.

this would also turn his aquarian interest in a much more creative direction.

i know he said he can’t draw, but he has such a strong knack for creative thinking with that unique aqua and his pisces mars giving him a very fluid means of expression and deep understanding of artistic nuance.

everything he does, even if he’s not particularly good at, will have his signature stamp because he has such a great outlet for him to express his super strong, aquarian sense of self.

(and that, in and of itself, is an artistic feat).

super empathetic, a lot more emotional than he lets on.

but again, due to his moon’s harmonious aspects, even with all that deadpan and logical aqua, emotions are never ultra-abrasive to him so it’s genuinely really hard to catch an extreme emotion out of him unless he’s in a negative place generally.

he just gets emotions, and if he doesn’t understand them immediately he knows how to sit with them and live in them.

a very healing person to be around.

#svt #seventeen #vernon #hansol #hansol vernon chwe #kpop astrology #i would like to adopt vernon as my little brother pls

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doyouevenshipbr0 · 5 years

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gruvia dabble

author's note: bruh. yall knew i had to write SOMETHING!!! these last couple weeks have been CRAZY for us gruvia lovers ughhh im so happy!!! and ok im probably eventually going to write what i think will happen in the upcoming chapters before they come out, but i usually don't like to write fics based on like what i think will happen in the next chap. cus then when my fic is just completely disproven by the following chapter im kinda like "eh thats kind of a waste." u know what im saying?? ik theyre called "fan fiction" for a reason but idk. i like to write things that could actually be in the realm of possibilities for the canon. ok does that make any sense??? ok well this fic is heavily inspired by our beautiful chapter 26. also it is soooo like 192727 other drabbles ive already written hehe. also this literally doesnt rly make sense tbh. i just wanted gray telling juvia his thought process like he did w juvina. so. enjoy❤️❤️❤️

"Gray-sama would you like to-" Juvia eagerly approached her dear Gray. Since the guild was finally up and running again after the Alvarez war, she couldn't wait to spend actual quality time with Gray. They hadn't really gotten to since they were so busy with the construction of the guild.

"Nope. Goin' on a job." Gray casually walked passed Juvia with his hands in his pockets.

"Eh?!" Juvia snapped her head around and watched Gray leave. "So soon?! Can Juvia at least come with?!" She called out as he continued to walk.

"Nope. Talk to ya' later." Gray didn't turn around. He just stuck a hand up and waved, still heading straight out the door.

Juvia was taken aback for a moment, but she understood. As much as she loved to shower Gray with affection, she knew he was a lone wolf at heart. And with constantly being surrounded by his guildmates as they all fought for who would get to use the hammer next, he was certainly drained.

Juvia nodded with determination. "It's alright. Next time." She said with certainty in her head.

However, over the next three weeks of Gray taking mission after mission and constantly dismissing Juvia, she was frustrated to say the least. She watched him walk out that door with hardly acknowledging her for the last time.

Without even thinking, her feet began to strut their way to catch up with Gray. She picked up her pace and finally caught up with him before he could leave the grounds of the guild.

"Gray-sama." Juvia called, and Gray paused. She used the time to catch up with him, and there they stood in the courtyard.

"What's up?" He simply asked.

"Juvia was just-- well--" She began to get nervous. She cheeks reddened as imagery of she and her beloved Gray danced through her head. She shyly put her hands behind her bag and wiggled her foot a bit. "Juvia was hoping to spend some time with Gray-sama, now that everything's finally calmed down."

"Yeah. We can later." Gray turned right back around and began walking again.

"Wait!" Juvia reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. She let go after a brief pause and Gray looking back at her with his piercing eyes.

"It's just-" She looked away, her eyes saddened. "Juvia's been trying to talk to Gray-sama for about three weeks now, and you've done nothing but ignore me." She pouted a bit. "Just when will later be?" She finished.

Gray sighed. "I dunno'"

"You don't know?!"

"Yeah. I don't know when later will be." His voice was firm.

Juvia was startled at the harshness of his voice and sheepishly caved in a bit. "Has-" Juvia stammered, clearly nervouse. "Has Juvia done something?"

"Huh?" Gray rasied a brow.

"Has Juvia done something to make Gray-sama mad at her?" Her eyes were suddenly glossy with tears, and Gray's eyes reacted by opening up.

"N-no! Not at all! You said it yourself, we haven't hung out in weeks. How could I be mad at you?" Gray was guilty for his tone.

"But why haven't you spent time with me in weeks Gray-sama?" Juvia pried, almost begging. "There's got to be a reason."

Gray's face regained composure. He remembered his purpose. He looked away. "I'm busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Busy with work."

"Well, you don't have to be so busy. And if you need to work so badly, you can always bring Juvia with you on-" Her voice regained its spunk as she began to form a new idea, only to have Gray shoot it down.

"No." He was harsh again.

"No?" Juvia's voice quivered.

"This doesn't have anything to do with you." Gray still looked away.

Juvia's heart sunk. "Oh." Tears began to well up again. "Well." She was looking for the right words to say, but she was at a loss. "Juvia will just mind her own business then." Just as she turned away to sulk back to the guild, Gray caught a glimpse of the tear that rolled down her cheek.

"Wait!" This time, Gray was the one reaching for Juvia's wrist. "I'm sorry." His voice was smoother.

"N-no..." Juvia's voice was timid. "Juvia is the one who is sorry for-"

"Stop it. You don't need to apologize." Gray loosened the grip on her wrist, but pulled her back a couple steps.

"I was lying." Gray said as Juvia finally faced him again, tears glassing over her eyes. "This does have to do with you." He blushed.

"Then why can't Juvia come with-"

"Because, that's not why it has to do with you." As Juvia cocked her head to side, clearly confused, Gray realized that what he was saying sounded silly.

"Gah!" Gray called out and hit himself with his palm, feeling frustrated for bot understanding how to form the thoughts in his head into words. "Do you wanna' sit somewhere?" He finally asked.

Juvia was still confused, but of course nodded in agreement.

The two found a nearby bench that was sitting right in front of a big, clear lake. The sunset reflected on the water, and created an image almost as beautiful as the water itself. They looked at in admiration for a moment, and Juvia turned back to Gray.

"So how does this involve Juvia?" She finally asked.

"I-- I--" Gray remained looking at the lake and ruffled his hair. "I gotta' keep going on missions."

"But why?" Juvia asked, sweetly.

"I... have to get stronger." Gray grumbled as he leaned forward.

"Stronger?" Juvia chuckled. "That's silly! Gray-sama is already the strongest man in the whole world! There is no one thay can compare to you, dear! Why would you think a few missions could improve that?" Juvia swooned.

"If I was the strongest man in the world you wouldn't have that scar." Gray finally said something clearly. Juvia choked on her breath.

"Eh?" She said, softly. "Juvia gave this scar to herself."

"And it was to save me." He seemed like he was growing angrier.

"Yes, but-"

"If I was strong enough, I would've been able to break his chains before that happened. I would've been able to stop it and save you." The composure in his voice was clearly wavering.

"Gray-sama..." Juvia reached an arm and placed it on Gray's back.

"I'm sorry Juvia." His voice shook, and he still did not look at her. "I know I promised you an answer, and at the time i meant it. I still do. It's just-"

Horrible images flashed in Gray's mind, making his skin crawl. "After Invel, and almost losing you, not begin able to protect you... it--it killed me." Gray gritted his teeth, almost like he was biting back tears.

"Darling... You know Juvia is just fine protecting herself." She reasoned.

"Yeah, but you don't understand." He spat.

"Juvia is trying to understand."

"I need more confidence in myself. I need it. I need to know I can protect you when the time comes. And I need to know with 100% certainty." He finally looked at her, and Juvia swore she could see tears trying to break loose from his eyes. "I thought I knew back then, but I was wrong. Just like I was with Ur, Ultear, my dad, and anyone that I've ever loved, but wanted to protect. Just when I thought I could, it was too late. I thought it was too late with you, but it wasn't. This is my second chance, Juvia. I need to know for certain that I'll be enough."

Juvia scooted a bit closer. "Gray-sama, there is always going to be something out there that will pose a threat to you or me. It's inevitable. All that matters is that we do everything in our power to protect one another. As long as we try, our love will always prevail. You were more than enough for me from the moment we met, and Juvia would think you would see that by now."

"I know how you feel about me, and I know how I feel about you. I just need to make sure I'm the best version of myself for you. Please, understand. I have to do this." His eyes were beckoning for her.

"Gray-sama, Juvia just-" She paused when she saw the desperation in his eyes. "When will it finally be enough? When will you know you're strong enough?"

"I've decided I'm going to take the 100 Years Quest. After that, I'll be ready. I'm certain of it." Determination was plastered in his face once again.

"This is so unnecessary." Juvia sighed. "But if this is what Gray-sama must do, Juvia will wait. Juvia understands that you must do this for yourself, but I just wish Gray-sama can see that he is already more than enough for me." She put her hand atop of his and gave him a reassuring grin.

"Thank you." Gray smiled back and gave her hand a little squeeze. "I know I'll be ready soon, and once I am, I'm gonna' go after you." Gray gave a smirk, Juvia's face became flushed with his sudden forwardness.

The two shared a heartfelt gaze, as they looked in each other's eyes and finally understood one another. They gave calming smiles, finished by another hand squeeze from Gray.

"No matter what."

#gruvia #gray x juvia #juvia x gray #doyouevenshipbr0 #fairy tail #gruvia fanfic #fanfiction #gruvia fanfiction #fanfic #gruvia drabble #juvia #juvia lockser

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name-me-regret · 4 years

Text

The Hoodie Borrower - Chapter 8

Summary:

Tony wasn’t going to get involved with the kid. He’d made a mistake bringing him to Germany. Then he started to realize that he needed to keep this dumbass kid alive. Yeah, that’s all it was.

Author Note: So, I got super blocked and I kept going back to methods of trying to get past it but it didn’t work for a long time. Yeah... so, sorry this is so late. Didn’t mean for it to happen. Thanks to Diana for her spamming and encouragement. You helped me, girl.

Read it on AO3.

- - - -

“When the night has come And the land is dark And the moon is the only light we'll see No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid Just as long as you stand, stand by me And darlin', darlin', stand by me Oh, stand by me Woah, stand now Stand by me, stand by me Whenever you're in trouble won't you stand by me Oh, stand by me Woah, just stand now Oh, stand, stand by me...“

~Stand By Me - Ben E. King - - - - Peter grinned as he read the text message that Miles had sent him, always thinking his friend was super funny. He’d just scored a DVD player from the dumpster a few blocks from school as he headed for the subway to get home. Even if it didn’t work, Peter was pretty confident that he could get it working once again. Miles to go for road work: So... wanna hang out this weekend? I found this awesome cafe last time. Wanna get some food or something? Peter bee Parker: Yeah sure, that’d be great. MJ likes cafes and stuff, and Ned is always down. Let me ask them if they’re free Miles to go for road work: Oh, yeah sure. Lemme know. All the way in Brooklyn, a teenage boy let his head drop onto the pillow with a groan. “Damnit,” he mumbled. Ganke laughed from his seat at his computer. “Again?” Another groan was Ganke’s answer. “Parker is totally oblivious, man. You gotta ask him straight... well, maybe straight isn’t the right word for it.” “Fuck off,” Miles grumbled. “Anyways, what I’m more concerned about are these... new abilities of yours. What’re you planing on doing with them? Gonna become like that crazy dude on YouTube?” Miles turned on his back and looked at his hand, flinching as electricity crackled along it. “I dunno,” he muttered, flexing his hand and tried to do it again only for nothing to happen. “I think I gotta figure them out first before I decide to do anything.” Ganke hummed in agreement as he continued to type on his laptop. - - - - “Hey May.” “How was school today?” she asked as he tossed his bag aside and put the DVD player he’d found in the trash on the table. “It was ok,” he said with a bit of a shrug. “There’s this crazy car parked outside...” He turned to face her and froze when he saw Tony freaking Stark sitting in his living room. “Oh, Mr. Parker,” the man said with a smirk. - - - - Chaos Squad Peter bee Parker: Sorry guys can’t make it to the cafe! I’ll explain when I get back Miles to go for road work well go when you get back Michelle aka the boss has changed the group chat to Nerd Squad Ned your boi: Type F to pay respects to Peter ‘ditches’ Parker Miles to go for road work: F Michelle aka the boss: F Peter bee Parker: :(( - - - - Peter groaned as he lay on the concrete of the airport terminal, not wanting to get up but he forced himself when he heard what might have been machine gunfire. He sat up, clutching his bruised ribs and lifted his face. The fourteen year old was horrified as he saw what appeared to be War Machine falling out of the sky, judging by the colors of the armor. He staggered to his feet, stepping forward as if he would help him, but he didn’t have super speed and would never make it in time. Peter heard Mr. Stark’s desperate cry of the Colonel’s name moments before he plowed at high speeds into the unforgiving ground. Peter shut off the comm with a shaking hand, the other one still holding it against his abdomen. “Kid,” he heard, turning to see Happy signaling Peter to follow him. He glanced toward the direction he had seen War Machine fall, before he turned and hurried away. - - - -

Tony went against the doctor’s orders when they told him he needed complete bed rest. He knew he should be resting, because he was in such pain due to his cracked sternum from getting a vibranium shield slammed into his arch reactor in his chest. It had been like after Afghanistan all over again, and it was hard to take deep breaths without feeling pain, and if he coughed or laughed it was agony. However, he had to see the kid home. He knew that Happy could have easily taken him home, since he’d picked him up four days ago. Tony had to meet with Rhodey and coordinate their plan or attack. It had been such a difficult thing to think about, attacking whom had once been their friends. And he had almost let Happy take him, because of the pain. Then the image of being knocked out of the air by that giant hand had invaded his brain, Rhodey falling with frightening speed toward the ground. So, he had gotten his battered and bruised body up. As he dressed with difficulty, Tony realized that he never should have taken him into this fight. He was fourteen years old for crying out loud. Luckily, he was more resilient than he gave him credit for, but the imagine of the kid laying on the tarmac looking broken wouldn’t leave his head. Tony picked up the kid from his hotel room and driven them to the airport. And even if he had been on it before, Peter was still so amazed by the plane and the seats and being in the air for the second time in his short life (fourteen!), and his guileless attitude eased some of the hurt (Don’t think of it). Then he had fallen asleep, proving he was more tired (or hurt) than he was letting on. That was after eating three servings of the meals on board. Tony was looking through the newspaper Happy had shoved in his hand and was amused as he remembered how much the man had bitched about it. He must have dozed off as well, since he was also still injured and exhausted (more emotionally than physically). Tony hadn’t even woken up when Happy had lowered his seat to a more comfortable position. It was as they cleared USA airspace that he was woken up, by several dozen beeps. He jerked out of his slumber and into a defensive position, feeling agony shoot through his chest. The man bit his lip to stop the cry that wanted to claw up his throat, seeing black spots from the pain. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and Roger’s voice (which he’d come to despise) in his ear ’He’s my friend.’ ‘So was I.’ The shield, which had been made by his father and that had once stood for justice, coming down as if for a death blow as he helplessly- “Oh, mood,” a young voice giggled. Tony’s eyes shifted to the right and came to alight on one Peter Parker, a smile on his face still plump with baby fat. He was looking through his phone and Tony realized all at once that the beeping had been coming from his shitty iPhone. They must have gotten within satellite range of whatever phone company May Parker had. It took him another moment to realize he was staring, and that’s likely why the teen was giving him a questioning look. Tony cleared his throat before he spoke. “You’re certainly popular, or is it a clingy girlfriend?” he teased, hoping his voice didn’t sound forced. He was certainly forcing himself. Tony was amused at the look on kid’s face, seeing the flush crawling up his cheeks. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he muttered petulantly as he hunched his shoulders. “A cling boyfriend then? I don’t judge. Free love and all that.” Peter’s face was pretty red by then and Tony felt like giggling. He was so easy to fluster, and it was a refreshing change. Peter wasn't like Steve at all, who would have shaken his head and ignored Tony. Well, he supposed that he still wasn't use to Tony's antics, and gave it a month until he was sick of Tony. It was bound to happen. "No, Mr. Stark. It's just my friends Ned and Miles. They're roasting me on Discord," he said with an eyeroll but a smile on his face. It was a fond kind of smile that Tony hadn't worn since the days before the Avengers had become a thing. When it had just been Rhodey and him, and Pepper and Tony had just started what wasn't yet a doomed relationship. "Oh, is that so? And what are they "roasting" you about?" he inquired, lifting his hands to do air quotes. Peter giggled. "I can't believe you did the air quotes. That's such a dad thing to do." He was distracted by another ding on his phone that he missed the stunned look on Tony's face.

No one had ever said he was paternal, in any way, and here was this fourteen year old having just crushed all that with one word. Granted, he hadn't actually called him dad, but he had said he had done something a father would do (or did). And even if it wasn't a big deal, since Peter had gone back to laughing at his phone, it was huge to Tony. He had no fatherly qualities and had no plans on becoming a dad, since his own father hadn't been... the best dad. So, he knew he would never make a good one. As they dropped off the kid off in front of his apartment building, where he had laughed for the first time since before the Siberia incident, he knew he had to put some distance between Peter and him. He'd planned on taking the superhero teenager under his wing and teaching him the ropes, and perhaps he would be better than he had been; wouldn't make the same mistakes he'd once done. Now, however, after that one word, Tony couldn’t take the kid on as a mentee, it just wasn’t possible. He had to break away now, while he still had a chance. Besides, he'd be fine. How much trouble could a super-kid get into stopping purse snatchers? - - - - When he had to save the disaster super-kid from drowning after getting tangled in his own parachute, he knew he couldn’t leave him alone anymore. Now, he had a new job, whether he wanted it or not. That new job was to keep one dumbass super kid from killing themselves. - - - - "Uuuugh," Miles groaned as he landed heavily on the concrete, spitting up a bit of blood which got on the mask he was wearing. He'd gotten the idea to use a Mexican wrestler's mask to hide his identity for now, since using a ski mask would make him look like a burglar. Ganke rushed to his side as soon as he climbed the five flights of steps of the apartment building, breathing heavily. "H-holy... shit, Miles?" he gasped. coughing a bit. "Is... anything broken?" He pulled up the mask, spat the blood in his mouth and lifted a thumbs up. Then fell back against the pavement, another pained groan escaping his mouth. "Rip," his traitorous friend laughed at him, reaching out to help him off the ground. "Come on, enough with trying to kill yourself. Don't you have a date today?" Miles elbowed him with a scowl. "It's not a date." Ganke just laughed as he clutched his stomach. "Crashed and burned again," he cackled. Miles only grumbled but didn't deny it. "Is he still gushing over that Liz girl?" When his friend's shoulders slumped as he sighed, Ganke only patted his shoulder sympathetically. It was one thing to try and ask Peter out and fail, but another to see him crushing after some girl from his school. Miles was hoping it was more that he was oblivious than him being straight. Because if he was straight, than he was screwed.

“This sucks,” he grumbled, Ganke nodding solemnly, even if Miles knew he was an asshole that enjoyed his pain. He didn’t know why he was friends with him.

“Come on, let’s grab some burgers. My treat,” he told him.

Oh yeah, cause he was awesome and bought him food constantly since his metabolism had skyrocketed like crazy.

“Then we can work out why you suck at asking out one guy to a single date.”

Also, cause they were roommates and it was too late in the year to change rooms. - - - - Peter jumped as his phone rang, fumbling with it for a moment and it was only his sticky powers that kept it from falling to the pavement down below. "Hello?" he asked uncertainly, recognizing the number but not sure if it was really Mr. Stark.

“Hey, kid, do you want to come over to work in the lab Friday after school?”

The fifteen year old was sure he was dreaming, so he used his free hand to pinch his right arm. It hurt. So, meant he wasn’t dreaming. “S-sure!” he sputtered before he could change his mind.

“Great. Happy will pick you up after school. I’ll call Aunt Hottie and let her know.”

He hung up before he could ask him how he had his aunt’s phone number, but he should have known better. He’d found him when he had thought he was being super careful on keeping his secret identity a.. well, a secret.

- - - - Peter grinned as he put the finishing touches on his new web shooters. “I did it! I can’t believe I was able to make this all on my own-“

The canister exploded, covering him in webbing as he was flung back. He’d clenched his eyes and mouth closed, his senses screaming at him in time that he was able to spare them from being filled with the sticky webbing. When he opened them and glanced around, he realized he was stuck to the wall, arms and legs spread-eagle. Well, at least he could see, even if opening his eyes had been hard, but breathing was proving to be a bit difficult.

As he wondered how he was going to get out of this, the door opened with a swish and it was only cause he was already facing them that he saw them, since he was barely able to turn his head. Tony and a blonde haired teenage boy he didn’t recognize were standing there. He was super embarrassed, and also, he couldn’t breathe.

FRIDAY must have alerted Tony of this (he also couldn’t hear too well), because the man hurried over, grabbing a screwdriver on his desk to cut away the webbing covering his face. Now that he was closer he could kind of hear him. “Jesus, kid,” he grunted as he freed his nose and mouth, and Peter took in a gasping breath. “Is that better? Breathing okay?”

“Yeah,” he croaked. Peter tried to pull away from the wall, but realized he’d have to use his super strength to accomplish this, and he didn’t want to let this other boy know and possibly oust himself as Spider-Man. By then the other had reached Tony’s side, whom was taller than the man.

“Isn’t there like something to dissolve it?” he asked, eyebrows raised questionably. His dark blue eyes were almost like the deep waters of the ocean.

Peter shook his head when he realized he’d actually been seeing black spots. “Y-yeah, I think it’s in a jar in that drawer behind you.” The kid went to do that while Tony continued to cut away the webbing covering his face. His hands were shaking.

“Don’t scare me like that, Peter. I have a heart condition.”

The use of his name showed how shaken he’d been, and it was a scary thing. He’d been thrown against the wall, and that had punched out the air from his lungs. The webbing had been so thick that he couldn’t get any air in. So, Peter would have been in trouble if Tony and this other kid hadn’t come when they had.

By that time he’d managed to uncover his entire head and face, and the other had returned so he couldn’t say anything to his words. “Is this it?”

Peter had put it in a small spray can for easier administration, so it was easy for Tony to take it and spray it about three times and get him down. “The rest can dissolve in water.”

“You’ll have ta get in clothes an’ all,” the other teen said, and Peter now noticed his southern accent. It sounded nice, a real change from the usual New York accent, and Miles’s Brooklyn accent. He was wearing a black denim Harley Davidson jacket of some kind with a black hoodie under that, and some frayed blue jeans with some beat up sneakers.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he grumbled. There wasn’t enough dissolvent to get rid of all the webbing. He went to walk away and looked at him. “Um, nice to meet you. I’m Peter. P-Parker. Peter Parker,” he stuttered, feeling his face warming.

What a terrible first impression. This was almost as bad as the basketball covered in dog poop incident when he’d first met Miles. Peter just hoped this turned out alright in the end as well, and especially with him having a new friend.

“Nice to meet you, Peter Parker. I’m Harley Keener,” he said with a grin. “Hope we can become friends.”

“Sure!” he enthused, his voice breaking and making him flush even more. “I’m gonna,” he motioned toward the door.

As soon as Peter walked off, the blonde boy turned to Tony. “So, that’s the intern you’ve been raving about?” Tony sighed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s my disaster kid,” he confirmed.

Harley nodded with a hum. “So, you didn’t tell me he was super cute.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“Since he’s your kid, does that mean I’d be your son-in-law if I started dating him?”

Tony looked at him and then pointed at the door. “Get out of my lab.” Harley cackled and simply ignored him.

- - - - When Peter came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, it was to a pile of clothes folded neatly on his bed. He didn’t have clothes in the room that Tony had dubbed as ‘his’, so they must have been Tony’s clothes. When he saw an old but well maintained MIT grey hoodie, he knew they had to be. It was warm when he pulled it over the slightly baggy shirt and pants.

If he purposefully kept it, well, Tony never asked for it back.-

#Hoodie Borrower #Peter Parker #Miles Morales #Tony Stark #Ganke Lee #Harley Keener #Michelle Jones #Ned Leeds #Fanfiction #bisexual miles morales #oblivious peter parker #The Hoodie Borrower

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brokenmusicboxwolfe · 4 years

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I wrote this a while ago (4 months?) . Sorry it’s so long, but that’s the drawback of insomnia and no one to gush about a movie to...

Short verson? Unexpectedly I really liked an obscure old western called To the Last Man, basically because the romance at it’s center really connected with me.

It’s interesting when a movie takes you by surprise.

I’ve been watching a a DVD set Pop fished out of a $5 bin a very long time ago. It’s one of those “20 movies crammed onto two discs, and how watchable the image and sound are doesn’t matter” kind of things. And geez, some of these look horrible. In the case of one movie there were times I couldn’t even tell which character was on screen. These are the sort of churned out discs where the just throw whatever they can get a hold of onto it, quality be damned.

Not being a huge western fan, and having recently endured a similar set of early John Wayne films Pop had * I wasn’t looking forward to it at all. Still, it was the last of the unwatched movie DVDs so I figured I might as well play them.

Turns out they have been a facinating variety of westerns, covering at least 40 years. For instance one film was a a spaghetti western that actually involved a circus ** and a film next to it was a pilot to a 1970s tv show set in 1914 with the heroes traveling the west in a car.

Which leads me to the biggest surprise so far, a barely movie length film from 1933 called To the Last Man.

Now I went into it expecting very little. It was one of those movies so short it wouldn’t be considered feature length now, a western staring Randolph Scott who always seems to fade from my memory as soon as I finish a film. *** Even after it started it seemed to be a Hatfield and McCoy style family fued migrating west, with an already old fashioned silent era quirk of putting the names of the character and actor on screen when they first appeared. And then they added a Romeo and Juliet to the story…

Again I had low expectations, When they introduced the girl, daughter of the baddie family, I thought I knew exactly where it was going. Once out west the girl is a bronco busting, sometimes trouser wearing despite being the 19th century, kind of gal. I liked her, which made me dread the romance ahead.

See stories have traditionally had problems with romances involving non-traditional women.

In some stories the woman will be there for the fella, saving his life or something like that, but whatever affections he may have for her the love will be unrequited. Sometimes she dies, sometimes she gets a supporting character love interest, but always the hero goes off with the traditional princess type girl.

In the stories where there is dainty, aloof beauty for the hero to moon over instead, they go a different route. Those are the stories where women are tamed. The hero often mocks and teases the woman for her non-traditional ways, even outright bullying her and accusing her of not being a “real” woman. She goes through an awkward phase of attempting to be properly feminine, to humorous effect, before eventually transforming into what a woman is “supposed’ to be for the love of her man.

I hate those, both of them. With the first, I find myself grumbling the gal is to good for him if he cares more about a proper bit of styling and pretty face than courage or kindness. With the second, it’s even worse. Love does NOT demand that the person you love deny their nature and remake themselves to satisfy your tastes. If they have to change into something else to earn your love then you don’t love them at all.

Anyway, I was sure how this was gonna go, especially with references in the conversation between the father and his thug pal about her wildness. This was gonna be a taming. I liked her as she was, and they were going to break her…

But I was wrong!

The initial “meet cute” involved her swimming (naked…it was1933) and being harrassed by the thug until the hero rides up and intervened. When afterwards they chatted I was surprised. Sure it was flirty and established their attraction, but in more authentic way than I expected. When he refered to her as a lady and she assumed he was mocking her, in most movies there would be truth in her belief. But not here. To be honest I was as thrown as she was by his sincerity.

Later she talked to one of her father’s men, trying to figure out how a lady would dress because she wanted to dress that way before heading out to find the hero. I thought, “oh no, here it comes”, but again I was wrong. The conversation was sweet as the guy used his mother as an example and offered to help the girl go shopping, only to have her say she couldn’t wait that long. The hero would be camping for the night nearby, so she would have to go find him wearing her usual ratty clothes. She did NOT do the comedy attempt to fancy up!

And then we get to the campfire scene.

They may have met while she was swimming, but he has a body too. She surprises him as he shirtlessly shaves, so there is a bit of admiring the male form, complete with her saying she would think he was “soft” (for shaving so often in her rough world) if it weren’t for the fact she could see his strong arms. Even now too many movies don’t do something as simple as this: Let the man be physically admired by the woman.

During their conversation after he dresses, for all her attraction she is also self conscious of her rough around the edges appearance. When he notes her bare feet must find the mountains painful, she is defensive, expecting it to be a slight. But he quickly reassures her that no insult was meant, and it’s true. He didn’t. Not once in that scene, or in any scene, did he ever belittle her or tell her that she is somehow wrong for being herself.

When he was ready to say goodnight she announces she is staying. While she does tell him he must treat her “like a man” for the night, it’s still a woman boldly telling a man she’s spending the night with him whatever ended up happening after the fade out.

Now next morning she fixes him breakfast. In most movies this would either be the comical “non-traditional woman inept at proper womanly skills” or it would be the “non-traditional woman embraces properly womanly role because of love”. It was neither. She fixed him breakfast, an affectionate gesture to be sure, but no fuss was made of it. She cooked it skillfuly and he didn’t seem astonished. It was just….breakfast.

Naturally as they are now head over heels for each other, this is when they find out each other’s family names, with the expected emotional turmoil. Now you would expect a few hostile scenes between them before they get over the whole feud thing, but they actually get over it quickly. By the time he buys gifts for his reunion with his family, he buys one more gift for her. And sure, when he leaves it where she can find it she at first angrily tosses it in the fire…before fishing it out. The fact is they are still in love, family war or not.

About that gift..yes, it is a dress, but it doesn’t feel like a judgement or a nudge but a gift given with love of something she desires. He doesn’t know that when her father got out of prison he commented on her shabby dress,which she explained was her only dress after the hard life she’d had to live. He does know she was self conscious about the dress she wore when they met. It feels like a thoughtful gesture.

The next time they are together, her family has stollen his family’s horses and she is joyfully riding the horse his brother had recently given to him. This would be a moment for a lot of shouting and protesting that their own families were in the right. Instead we see little of the encounter except from the viewpoint of the distant thug. Considering the couple kiss and he smilingly sees her off on what had been his horse, I really don’t think there was much shouting.

Naturally the thug, who has designs on her, tells her father abouther romance. The dress she’d hidden away is dug out as proof. She defiantly says she intends to wear the dress at her wedding to the hero, and her father lashes her. It’s off camera but we see him swinging the whip, so whoa, horrible daddy there!

Stuff happens with the feud, which I’ve almost totally ignored**** despite it being the main plot, which culminates in the thug engineering a rock slide. The only survivor of the men folk from both clans is, of course, our hero. As he staggers to the girl’s home he seems horribly injured and dazed almost to senselessness. There is no sudden miraculous recovery for the sake of love scenes, fights or plot. This is convincing the way 99% of all action movies ever aren’t when it comes to traumatic injuries. He needs care..

So here comes the thug. The girl quickly hides the hero in the loft and goes to work to deal with the villian. She has to feign normalicy, then react as he would expect her to react, while he makes clear she is to be considered his property and she has to figure out how to play that considering she is trying to hide her beloved. The dazed hero can hear what’s going on, tries to aim his gun, and drops it. The villian know the hero is there, so it’s time for a fight scene..l.

And the fight is between the villian and the girl!! And this is no dainty girly crap like so many movies have thrown at us.

Mom and I used to have this thing of yelling at the screen “Hit him!!!!!” whenever heroes and villians would fight and the love interest would stand by looking helpless. I mean, I dunno about you but if someone is trying to kill someone I love they are gonna find themselves fuckin’ fughting TWO people!

And here the girl was doing some serious full body, roll on the floor punching and biting fighting. This wasn’t damsel in distress “You brute!” thumps at the chest or gingerly smashed vases on the head. She fought like she was trying to save the life of someone she loved. Which should be expected, but isn’t when watching an old western.

Alright, so the hero does finally do in the baddie by dropping down with a knife…but now that I think about it maybe SHE was the hero of the movie anyway.

Well, maybe to me she was because she was my identification character. Most of these westerns haven’t had women I could relate to at all, and here was one I related to on some very deep level. I got her.

Now my family was nothing like hers, not only in the lack of violence (with the ones exception of a relative you can guess) but that they were hardly uneducated (say hello to the ONLY relative I even know of that didn’t graduate college…that would be me BTW) Heck, Pop was a total sweetheart.

And yet I got her.

An unconventional woman type myself, I never learned the girly stuff. Partly that was accidental and partly it was impractical for the life we lived. I did have to be willing to be rough and tumble, with no line between guy stuff and girl stuff. When I was a kid I was also the only girl in a neighborhood of boys where being a sissy was the worst insult and you had to be ready to fight. I was the girl that swam in the river and played in the woods. And for various reasons ( would take a while to explain) I’ve spent most of my life in worn out work clothes.

Actually that’s an aspect that makes her resonate even more: clothes.

I don’t dress like her, but I have my own version shabby woods girl going on. As I write this I’m wearing one of my father’s old t-shirts with holes in it, jeans worn at the knees, a broken hair barrette in my hair, and steel toed men’s work boots on my feet.

Now there are reasons for all of these. The practicalities of farm amd woods life, being poor enough I’d have to choose between new clothes or things like books, a childhood trauma that gave me a lifelong desire to dress for fight or flight, not having a social life so 99% of the time no human sees me, living in a rural area with no credit card for onlinr ordering and, in the case of the boots, just the fact they are all I can find locally that work with the ankle braces my flat feet force me to wear.

But notice what is missing from all these reasons: fashion. I almost never get to wear clothes I actually like. I’d flip through catalogs or wander stores and imagine wearing this or that. I have strong feelings about clothes I like or don’t, but no real chance to express it. I actually fantasize about that, living the sort of lifestyle where even if you are adventuring you get to pick clothes you want to wear.

Somewhere along the line people started assuming I what I wear reflects my taste, or rather lack there of. I used to ask my cousin at Christmas to please give me something pretty. She couldn’t understand it as a request, but folks just never thought of me as wanting pretty things. What would it have been like, just once, to try to be pretty.

Actually I’d probably have been laughed at, a comedy buffoon, the hideous lady trying to look cute, the ugly step sister. Just as well life never gave me a chance to try.

So being self conscious about my appearance is normal for me. I know how I look to people. I also know from experience that people can be cruel, and have taken my share of insults and mocking. In her position I would have thought he was making fun of me too and reacted almost exactly like her. In fact, I have.

Here is a heroine I can relate to, and she gets the fantasy too. The fella falls in love with her, and loves her as is, not as a fix it upper. He loves her and doesn’t tease her about things where she is sensitive. He gives her a gift of something pretty just because he thinks she will like it. She gets to admire him (and his strong arms). She even gets to fight the bad guy to save him!

Geez, of course I ended up loving the movie!

Never saw that coming, a Randolph Scott film I will actually remember! But the question is, will I finally remember his face or just his arms?

*NOT a John Wayne fan, and these were some sort of 1930s filler less than an hour formula stuff.

**I REALLY enjoyed this one, but of course I have a thing for circuses. Woody Strode as a trapeze artist gunfighter and Victor Buono as the big bad were nice bonuses.

***That’s always puzzled me. I usually have an excellent memory for faces from movies, but I forget his instantly.

****Also forgotten, Buster Crabbe, Shirley Temple and the rest of the costars.

#Westerns #to the last man #movies #randolph scott

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justheretobreakthings · 5 years

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Welcome to the Family - Chapter 5

(Previous Chapter)

Word Count: 2,723 (Total Word Count: 11,961) Read on AO3

Story Summary: Lance had been excited about his family taking in a foster kid, eager to get to meet his brand new little brother or sister, who would surely adore and idolize their super cool Big Brother Lance. What he got instead was a sullen, quiet, temperamental teenage housemate with a criminal record and a disastrous haircut.

Pidge: How would you like to play some terrible Xbox games Hunk and I picked up at the flea market for 50 cents each?

Lance: im not sure i would like that at all

Pidge: Too late.

The doorbell rang mere seconds after Lance received the last text, and he groaned at prospect of having to move from his comfortable bed, but managed to suck it up and drag himself down the stairs and open the door to see Pidge and Hunk at the front stoop, the familiar car of Pidge’s older brother Matt already backing out of the driveway. “Whatever happened to you letting me know you’re on your way before you actually arrive?” Lance asked.

“It was a spur of the moment thing,” Pidge said with a shrug. “Besides, I went to all that trouble to rig up the backwards compatibility on your Xbox, of course I’m gonna use it.” She held up the little stack of games in her hand.

Lance stepped aside and allowed the two of them in. “Why were you shopping for video games at a flea market, of all places?”

“We weren’t,” Hunk answered. “Matt took us to go hunting for parts for that new battlebot Pidge and I have been working on, and we just stumbled across them.”

“And we thought, well, we should get Lance in on the fun,” Pidge finished as she set the games on the coffee table. “Feel flattered. Go ahead, you pick one to start.”

Lance tilted his head to look over the low-res images and strangely-drawn cover art of the games, all with titles he had never heard of - Dreadnite, Rise of Vengeance, Snowboard Havoc, Moonrace, Dark Alert. “These all look terrible,” he said.

“Well, duh,” Pidge said. “You don’t buy a video game for fifty cents and expect quality.”

“Fair point. Okay, I pick…” Lance closed his eyes, twirled his finger in the air, and jabbed one of the games at random. “Moonrace. What is this, a racing game?”

“I dunno, maybe?” Pidge said.

“I’ll set it up!” Hunk said, snatching the game from the table.

Pidge kicked her shoes off and flopped down onto the couch. “All right, now that we’ve got that taken care of, time for the burning question: where is he?”

“Where is who?” Lance asked.

“Waldo,” Pidge replied, rolling her eyes. “Who do you think? Where’s Keith? I wanna meet your new emo brother.”

Lance raised a brow. “Oh, is that why you guys decided to drop by? Just to see Keith? And here I thought you actually wanted to spend time with me. I’m hurt.”

“Quit hiding him, McClain.”

Lance plopped himself down onto the couch beside her. “Sorry to disappoint, but he’s not here right now.”

“Aw, what?” said Hunk, looking up from where he was kneeling by the console in front of the TV. “So we came all this way for nothing?”

“My feelings. They’re wounded.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re thrilled to be graced by your awesome presence too, Lance,” Pidge said. “Seriously, though, we wanna meet him.”

“Mamá took him to the school to get his schedule figured out or something,” said Lance. “And then I think she was gonna take him back-to-school shopping too.” He shrugged. “They’ve been gone for a few hours now already. Don’t know how much longer they’re gonna be.”

“Well, at least we’ve got something to do while we wait,” Hunk said as the opening menu appeared on the TV screen and he stood up. The game menu displayed an option of either one- or two-player mode, and Hunk turned to the others, one controller in each hand. “Looks like two players max for this one. Who wants the other one?”

“Dibs,” said Pidge. “Toss it here.”

“Excuse you,” Lance snapped. “This is my house.”

“But it’s my game.”

“Or you could both take one and I’ll sit out this round,” Hunk suggested.

“What, like mature adults?” Pidge said. “Sounds boring, but okay. Toss it here.”

Hunk passed a controller to each of them and plunked down to sit cross-legged in front of the couch and watch. Pidge sank down into couch cushions, bringing her legs around to drape over Hunk’s shoulders as if he were her personal ottoman.

It turned out that Lance’s assumption was correct: it was a racing game, and a buggy one at that. Three races in, Lance ended up having to set his controller down and wait for Pidge and the other computer players to finish the race without him, as his own Mooncar had somehow morphed through a rock wall and gotten irretrievably stuck during the first lap. “So,” he said, nudging Hunk in his decision to make conversation to pass the time. “Battlebot?”

“For robotics club at school,” Hunk said. “Pidge and I want to get a head start on ours.”

“I didn’t realize you actually got to make the robots fight!” Lance said. “I thought they just, like, did chores or something.”

“We don’t make them fight,” Pidge said, not taking her eyes from the game. “They do things like throw discs and walk on balance beams and stuff.”

“Oh,” Lance said, shoulders deflated. “That’s… less cool. The ‘battlebot’ name was misleading.”

“That’s not what they’re officially called,” said Hunk. “That’s just what Pidge calls them.”

“You would know this if you actually joined the club,” Pidge said. “We need more underclassmen.”

Lance shook his head. “Told you already, schedule conflict with swimming.”

“I call bullshit,” Pidge said. “Matt’s president this year and he’s still got time for soccer.”

“Soccer and swim have different schedules,” Lance said. “Sorry, Pidge, you’re not getting me into your club.”

“You’re going to regret that decision once the robots turn on humanity and you don’t know how to deprogram them.”

“Hunk will protect me, right, Hunk?” Lance asked.

“If I must,” Hunk said. “Maybe we can try and convince Keith to join robotics when he gets back.”

Pidge perked up. “There we go, that’s an idea! We’ll get to him before any other clubs get a chance!”

“Eh, I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” Lance said. “Keith doesn’t really seem like the club-joining type.”

Hunk raised a brow. “How come?”

“Because he’s not exactly social,” Lance answered. “In the time he’s been here he only ever comes downstairs for meals and barely says a word to any of the rest of us during them. The rest of the time, he’s just holed up in his room, quiet as a mouse.”

Hunk shrugged. “He only showed up, what, two days ago? Probably just still being shy.”

“Hunk, there’s shy, and then there’s straight-up asocial. I mean, you’re not exactly the most outgoing guy in the world, but if you moved in with a group of people, you would hold an actual conversation with them by day two, right?”

“I wouldn’t,” Pidge said.

“Yes you would,” Lance huffed. “And it’s not like we haven’t made an effort, you know? We try to chat with him and stuff, but he just stares at his food and mumbles little one-word answers and shuts us out.” He sighed. “Of all the foster brothers Mamá could have picked for me, she goes with the one who doesn’t even want to be here.”

“Still bitter about not getting the happy hyper eight-year-old you dreamed of, huh?” Pidge muttered.

“I’m not bitter,” Lance said.

“You are so bitter,” Pidge said. “Besides, it’s not like your parents just picked him out of a catalogue or anything. I’m pretty sure when you apply to become a foster parent, if you don’t already have a specific kid you’re planning to foster in mind, the state gets to pick one for you. Or, something like that, anyway. And what are your parents gonna do, go ‘oh, no thanks, this one’s too quiet, we’ll pass’? Dick move.”

“I’m not saying I wanted them to do that or anything. I’m just - I dunno, frustrated, I guess.”

“Eh, give it time,” Hunk said. “You’re a lot to get used to, and it’s only been a couple of days. Patience is a virtue.”

“Since when did I care about being virtuous?” Lance said.

“Don’t know what you mean, you’ve always seemed like a pillar of virtue to me,” Pidge said flatly. She picked up Lance’s controller and dropped it back into hands. “Okay, next race is up. Try to not hit every single crater this time, it’s no fun playing with a player two if you don’t put up an actual challenge.”

“It’s not me who sucks, it’s the game,” Lance said.

“It’s a poor craftsman who blames his tools, Lance,” said Hunk.

“I am this close to kicking you both out of my house,” Lance muttered before settling back into couch and moving his concentration to the TV screen.

They passed the next race mostly in peace and quiet, and went another round before getting bored and switching to Dark Alert, which turned out to be a fairly generic side scrolling beat-’em-up game. It was about ten minutes into the game, with Hunk at the controller, that the knob of the front door finally turned to welcome Lance’s mother and new brother back into the house.

Lance lifted his hand in greeting as they entered, his mother carrying two shopping bags in each hand and Keith hugging a new backpack to his chest. His mom smiled back, but Keith didn’t even look his way, instead staring at Hunk before darting his eyes toward Pidge. He stepped back, brow furrowed.

“This is Hunk and Pidge,” Lance said, answering Keith’s unspoken question and gesturing to each of them in turn. “Friends from school.”

“Oh, you’ll have to get used to seeing those two around,” his mother said to Keith. “They and Lance are something of a package deal. Good to see you guys.”

“You too, Señora McClain,” Pidge said, although her eyes were fixed firmly on Keith. Hunk paused the video game and turned in their direction as well. “So,” Pidge continued. “You must be the famous Keith that Lance has told us so much about?”

“Pidge,” Lance groaned as Keith narrowed his eyes toward Lance in suspicion. “It’s not like I was gossiping about you or anything,” he assured Keith. “Just, you know, telling them I had a new foster brother who moved in. Nothing bad.” Okay, that was a bit of a white lie, but what Keith didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Keith must have accepted it, though, because he nodded slowly and mumbled a hasty “hi” to Pidge. Hunk, in his turn, smiled widely at him and waved. “If you’re not busy, you wanna come join us? We’re running through some new games. Well, they’re old games, actually, but they’re new to us. Still have three here we haven’t touched yet, you can be the first to give it a go. Oh, I probably should have asked first, you like video games?”

Keith stared at him for a couple of seconds before shrugging, and Lance raised a brow at Hunk. If they had been doubting at all that Keith was as untalkative as he had claimed, here was the supporting evidence. Hunk must have at least started to pick up on Keith’s stony vibe already, though, because he’d babbled a bit just then. Hunk always babbled when he felt awkward.

“So is that a yes or no to joining us?” Pidge asked.

“No thank you,” Keith said.

Pidge shrugged. “Probably for the best. These games kinda suck. I’ll ask again when we bring over something decent.”

“You two ready for the school year?” Lance’s mother asked. Pidge and Hunk both nodded and made sounds of assent before she turned back to Keith and said, “They’re both going to be sophomores as well, so you guys might be having some classes together. I’m sure they’ll be happy to help you out with anything you need to help get settled into your new school, same as Lance. Isn’t that right?”

“Of course, Señora McClain!” Hunk said with an enthusiastic nod at the same time as Pidge responded with a flat, “Sure.”

“There you have it,” she said with a satisfied nod. “By the way, Lance, whatever happened to those old clothes of Marco’s I gave you to go through and pick out? I wanted to let Keith have a look at the ones you didn’t pick, see if there’s anything he likes. Lord knows, he barely brought along enough clothes to last him a week.” Keith tightened his grip on his backpack and dropped his gaze to his feet.

“I put them back in the attic,” Lance answered. “Marco has terrible taste in clothes. Keith can have all of them.”

“You didn’t want any of them?” his mother asked. “With all the money you spend on clothes, you really didn’t want any new outfits for free?”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m blowing my allowance on designer labels or anything,” Lance said. “I just don’t want to be seen in public in the sad remains of Marco’s grunge phase.”

His mother shook her head. “Well, at least they’re not going to waste now. Come on, Keith, I’ll show you the clothes. I promise, they’re perfectly fine; Lance is just picky.”

Keith nodded and hurried to follow, and the two of them made their way upstairs and out of sight. Lance watched them go before turning back and nudging Hunk. “Okay, you can unpause it now.”

“Well, I don’t know what you were complaining about,” Pidge said. “He seemed great.”

“What are you talking about?” Lance asked. “He barely said two words to you.”

“Yeah, that’s why he seemed great. Breath of fresh air after years with you.” Lance picked up one of the couch pillows and smacked her on the head with it.

“He wasn’t really emo, was he,” Hunk said. “I mean, he had the dark colors, but I think emo involves more accessorizing.”

“Okay, yeah, I kinda meant emo more as a vibe, you know?” said Lance. “Like, introverted and angry-sad. And he’s got the hair for it, and the face.”

“What, ‘cause of the scar or something?” Pidge asked.

“I meant, like, the facial expressions,” Lance said. “But, sure, that too.”

“No wonder you’re not crazy about him,” Pidge continued, smirking. “New kid in school, broody and mysterious, good-looking and with a face scar to boot? He’s gonna be stealing all your dates.”

“What are you on about?”

“That was one of the things you were worried about, right? New foster brother taking all the dateable people for himself?”

Lance rolled his eyes. “First of all, a face scar would make a person less likely to attract admirers, not more.”

“Actually, I’m with Pidge on that one,” Hunk said. “Apparently people go nuts for face scars.”

“Yeah, like, Matt’s friend Shiro?” Pidge said. “Guys are falling all over themselves for him, and let’s not pretend the scar’s not at least a factor.”

“Okay, but that’s a special case. Shiro’s - ”

“And apparently people just swoon over the Phantom of the Opera,” Hunk added.

“And there’s Prince Zuko,” said Pidge.

“Inigo Montoya.”

“Harry Potter.”

“Deathstroke.”

“That lion from The Lion King 2.”

“You’re reaching,” Lance groaned. “And bottom line, he is not going to steal my dates. Hell, for all we know, maybe he doesn’t even date at all. Maybe he’s another Pidge.”

Pidge perked up, eyes suddenly bright with curiosity. “You think? That’d be awesome!”

“Should we ask?” said Hunk.

“No, Hunk,” Lance sighed. “Leave it.”

Pidge huffed out a laugh before slumping back into her previous posture on the couch. “Well, whatever the case. He didn’t seem so bad. Just quiet. I say give it time. I was quiet too when I first moved up to your grade, and look at me now.”

“Ah, the good old days,” Lance said wistfully. “Yes, I remember.”

“It’s like you want me to punch you,” Pidge huffed, giving him a shove. “But seriously, my money’s on it being nerves. I’m sure he’s not so bad.”

“Give it time,” Hunk said with a nod. “Patience.”

“Whatever,” Lance said, shrugging. He folded his arms and turned his eyes back to the game on the screen. “So when we switching controllers again, huh? I haven’t had a turn in like half an hour.”

“Patience, Lance,” Pidge said sagely.

“You guys suck.”

#vldgen #lance #keith #vld fic #voltron fic #my writing #fic: welcome to the family

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kichimiangra · 6 years

Text

Guides and printing a Paperback Comic through Lulu Books.

The Sequel to my Storyboard book post!

I’ve used a few of my own comics to test print and it turned out pretty good! (Mind you I do Black and white comics so I dunno how well color comics turn out?)

[Image to show off print quality]

So first you’ll wanna know what size you’re comic is going to be. Lulu books has an option for A5 (5.83″ x 8.26″) and I like that size (About the size of a DVD case) so I’ll be referencing that from there. Experiment all you want on other options!

So for making an A5 size book you’ll want to know about TRIMS! Now Ya’ll are probably smarter than I am but if you’re anything like me that sounds intimidating! What’s a bleed? Where is it trimmed?? Well here’s a simple guide for A5 that I use (and it printed just fine!)

You’re gonna want to be at at MINIMUM 300 DPI but You can just take these guides, size up your story boards over them, make sure they’re 300+ DPI and get ready to pencil and ink them!

I made the instruction simple for those (Like me when I started) who had no idea what any of this meant. The dark blue section is getting trimmed off, mid blue isn’t but might get snipped a little so it’s a buffer area, and light blue is home free safe!

For 2 page spreads make sure the Left side is an Even numbered page and the right side is an Odd numbered page!

This is because your Page 1 should be on the right side of the book, setting a precedent for Evens being on the left. Be conscious about what side your pages are on in 2 page spreads!

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

Now let’s jump ahead into the future and assume you finished your paperback volume and you’re ready to print out a proof!

So you jump onto Lulu Books and go to it’s creation wizard and start setting up what you want to do! This is the preferences I used:

Now I know it’ll be tempting to go with ‘Standard Paperback’ because it’s cheaper to print but trust me on this one. You’re going to want to select ‘Premium Paperback’ for comics. I did a test print in Standard, which uses 50# paper and boy howdy the ink bled through the pages and left them all muddy looking. Not only that but all the pages are all wrinkly! It looked beat up when it was brand new!

So go Premium Paperback. I’ve done test prints of both 60# and 70# and though I didn’t see much difference between the two they were both light years better than the 50# paper!

So now that we have that settled the next thing you’ll wanna do is hit the template button!

This’ll give you a Word Document with a lot of instructions built right in for things like title pages, table of contents, copyright page, etc. Make sure you change the Margins for this file to 0 on all sides. In a novel those are there to avoid trimming words (Check out the trim on my wrinkly damaged page above!) but for a comic our blue print guide has the margins built right into the image so you’re good. You don’t need them. Now start inserting your pages into the file and save! (This gonna slow your Word software down baby) (So many images!) (At 300+DPI)(#Worth it)

P.S. make sure your 2 pages spreads have copies where they’re split into 2 different pages instead of 1 big one for the word doc file

Something you’ll notice is if you have it Zoomed out so you can see 2 pages at a time your 2 Page spreads should be in two different rows. This is good, don’t worry about it. This is how it’ll print correctly. I know I was CONSTANTLY second guessing whether that was right or not until I got my first test Print!

From here hit that “Make this book” Button! You’ll be taken to the Creation Wizard where you upload your Word Document, create your cover, etc. and the wizard walks you through everything else!

Bam! You’re done! Order a proof copy, wait about a 1 1/2-2 weeks for it to arrive, check to make sure everything is Kosher and BOOM! You got your graphic novel in book form to show off to your family who still thinks you should have become a doctor instead of an artist! You did it!

I go to sleep now. Ya’ll prolly knew this better than I did and it took me like a year and some change to figure all this out but whatevs.

#I printed a book: The sequel!

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askdawnandvern · 6 years

Text

A Lamb Among Wolves Ch:46

Chapter Forty-Six: Sweet Little Lies

“This won't do.” Xavier muttered. The white and grey wolf pulled uneasily at the trappings of his rather sharp looking dark grey tuxedo. “This fabric is so abrasive.” Xavier huffed. “And I look terrible.”

“Oh Pshaw.” Malcolm tutted, swatting the wolf's paws away from fiddling at his own pale purple tie. “Y'all look more than fine.”

Xavier shook his head. “ I tried to pick something that looked the most like my proper tuxedo.” The wolf pulled at the lapel of his jacket to reveal the matching pale purple vest underneath, gesturing with it with a paw. “But the materials are so...ugh” Xavier adjusted his glasses. “They honestly just don't make them anywhere like San Francisgoat.”

Malcolm gave the wolf a playful pat on the chest as he rolled his eyes. “You are such a spoilt' pup.” The russet wolf said with a laugh.

Xavier crossed his arms defensively, turning from his mate as it the comment had left the wolf feeling slightly offended. “Just because I demand quality when it comes to what I'm willing to be seen wearing?”

"Y'all look fine!" Malcolm laughed. " It's only fer one night, and side's this whole affair ain't exactly for you now is it?" Malcolm averted his eyes slightly, his gaze momentarily falling on the other wolf seated in the room before quickly darting back to his mate. The russet wolf pulled at his own, considerably simpler tux and gestured toward it. The suit was largely similar to Xavier's, aside from the wolf opting for a baby blue tie, and forgoing the vest in favor of sticking with the simple dress shirt. The russet wolf pulled at one of his suspender straps that had been hidden underneath the jacket with a paw, releasing it with a dull 'thwip' as he eyed his mate. “My suit ain't perfect, but it's good enough to get the job done.”

Xavier sighed. “ I know...I just...” The wolf ran a paw through his hair nervously. “I just wish I had my proper suit.” Xavier looked toward the ceiling. “ I want to be looking my best for something as important as this, ans-”

Malcolm held up a paw, averting his eyes to the wolf that had been watching the pair before glancing back to his mate. “Stop yerself before y'all accidentally...er...say the wrong thing.” Malcolm chided. “And asides', unless y'all can are fixin' to sprout wings and can fly as fast as a jet y'all would never make it in time.”

“Hey fellas?” Wade popped his head in from between a nearby curtain, drawing the two wolves attention.

“Is he ready for him?” Xavier asked, lowering his glasses as he eyed the dusky grey wolf.

“Just about.” Wade muttered, pushing the curtains aside and dusting off his tux as he entered. The wolf's tux was comparably simplier to the other two mammals. Nothing more than a black suit, punctuated with a pale blue tie. For a moment, his gaze met the same quiet wolf that Malcolm's eyes had, only to just as quickly divert back to the couple. “He's just finishin' up Ully's tux.” Wade shook his head. “Ya'll know how hard it is for Ully to keep still.”

“Maybe y'all should have used the zip ties on ol' Ully instead.” Malcolm chuckled.

“Speaking of...” Xavier's gaze traveled to the seated wolf briefly. “Do you think it is safe to untie him?”

“I dunno if we should risk it.” Wade muttered quietly. “M-maybe the tailor can work around the ties?”

“Don't be silly!” Malcolm laughed. “He ain't gonna run out now!”

“I don't know...” Wade muttered, exchanging a glance with the wolf across the way. “He still has a bit of a squirrely look in his eyes, maybe we sh-”

“Hey boys.” Vernon finally spoke, drawing the groups attention back to him all at once. The wolf looked exceedingly tired, the bruise under his eye only adding to the pre-existing bags that had come from a short and tumultuous nights sleep. “Could y'all do me a solid and-” The wolf furrowed his brow, flashing his fangs at the mammals as he began to thrash in his seat.

"STOP TALKING ABOUT ME LIKE I AIN'T HERE!?" Vernon snarled.

“Easy Vernon, easy.” Xavier held his paws out, gesturing for the wolf to settle. But Vernon was beyond settling. He had been seated in one of the back rooms of the local tailor's place for what, from his perspective, had to have been at least two hours. His paws restrained not only with the initial zip ties they had used to restrain him at the ranch, but another two sets connecting the first one around his wrists to the spokes of the wooden chair he now sat in. The whole time, his brothers had continually tip-toed around divulging just what was going on. Whether it was Trenton electing to make small talk about anything but the current predicament Vernon found himself in, Zach remaining silent while it was his turn to keep watch, refusing to even acknowledge the wolf's presence, or worst of all, the current situation with his brothers simply talking around him, the lack of transparency had grown completely maddening.

The more the topic at paw was avoided, the more it left Vernon to stew in his own thoughts. To review the situation and everything that lead up to it in his head over and over again in order to find his own clues as to just what was going on. And from what Vernon had managed to piece together during his time strapped to the wooden chair, the vibe around it certainly didn't tell him anything good.

At first, Vernon hadn't been sure what to make of the silent treatment. Back at the ranch, he hadn't really noticed it. After all, the wolf was to busy attempting to dole out a silent treatment of his own when it came to the other wolves. They had tackled and trussed him up after all, in front of his mate no-less. Treating him with the same care and finesse that an officer would employ when taking down some violent criminal. The kind you'd see on late night television with his face blurred out, screaming obscenities at the mammals restraining him. Of course, the tearful goodbye he had given his mate probably didn't help the situation in that regard, if anything it probably made the scene that much more uncomfortable for the rest of the Hunter pack to witness. To any outsider, the scene must of looked like something out of a domestic dispute case. Between Vernon's own injuries, the tears he and Dawn shared, and the zip tie cuffs, all that was really missing was the wolf being loaded into a squad car and hauled off to the North Meadowland's County Jail. And Vernon was certain that image hadn't just resonated with him alone judging by the uncomfortable expressions worn by most of his siblings during the wolf's final goodbyes to his mate.

It was only when the Hunter girls left ahead of them, did Vernon pick up on just how awkwardly silent kitchen had grown. His brothers had grown deathly quiet, save for a stray cough here and there. Glancing around, Vernon could see various eyes darting at one another, as if each member of the pack was looking to the other to say something. To break the stifling and uncomfortable atmosphere that had formed with the absence of Audrey and the girls. In that moment, Vernon thought that maybe his brothers were just as bewildered and baffled by the sudden turn of events as he was. As if all they had been told was to restrain the wolf and wait there for further instructions. And with nothing left to do or say, they seemed to be at a collective loss as to how to move forward.

The familiar puttering of Audrey's pie van came and went, signifying that the girls had left the ranch, presumably with Dawn in tow. The staccato sound of backfiring exhaust slowly fading away as the sound of the early morning birds once again filled the quiet kitchen. It was only then, when the van appeared to be long gone, did one of his brothers mustered to courage to speak.

“S-So...” Wade muttered. “How we doing this?”

“We already know what we're doin' here, dummy.” Yuri rolled his eyes.

“Good.” Vernon muttered. “Because I'd like to know.” The wolf growled softly. He tried to meet Trenton's gaze, but the wolf looked away. His muzzle twisted-up in an uneasy grimace.

"I know that!" Wade protested, failing to acknowledge the wolf's comment. "I-I mean how we dollin' out who's ridin' front and whos ridin' bed?" The wolf met Vernon's gaze briefly before looking away. "I mean who's ridin' with...y'know...?"

The silence returned momentarily, the wolves once again exchanging uncertain glances.

“Let's just walk him outside, and we'll figure it out as we go.” Trenton mumbled. “Sound fair?”

There was a mixture of nods and murmurs of agreement as the room slipped back into that same uneasy silence. A silence that only grew that much more uncomfortable as Vernon was guided outside without so much of a peep from his brothers. Trenton and Zach's grip on his shoulders remained firm as they led the wolf out to the driveway, their claws digging into his shirt as they pushed him onward while the other Hunters dutifully followed behind. The whole time, the unnatural, pervading silence grew more and more unnerving to Vernon. The wolf had seen his brothers act in many different ways, but generally, when they were together there was always an air of joviality and playfulness about them. Even when the mood was somber, you could always count on one of them to try to lighten it. At least, aside from Yuri. After all, the wolf had quite the knack for dancing on the grave of good spirit whenever the opportunity arose. Yet now, the palpable discomfort and unease that exuded from around Vernon made him feel as though the walk to the old, beat up, pick-up truck had the weight of being led out to a firing squad.

Coming to a stop along the side of the car, the wolves once again traded uncertain glances, each looking to the other to once again bring up the topic of presumably, who was riding next to Vernon in the front seat.

“Well, I ain't gonna do it.” Malcolm was the first to cut the thick, stifling atmosphere with his objection. “I mean yer his brothers here. So obviously it should be one of y'all sitting next to Vern.”

“Nice way to pass the buck.” Zach mumbled.

“Passin' the buck?” Malcolm laughed awkwardly. “Yer supposed to be trained in handlin' this stuff! I'm just a chef! I'm the least qualified mammal here!”

“He's right.” Xavier interjected. “He'd most likely crack if Vernon started asking too many questions.”

Malcolm laughed uneasily. “Any other time I'd take that as an insult, but it's true.” Malcolm replied. “I ain't never been a good liar.”

“Liar?” Vernon spoke again. The wolf couldn't be sure what they were lying about, but it suddenly made him a bit more dubious about the seemingly earnest act his mother had put on for him in the kitchen. The fact that language like that was being thrown around at all made the wolf that much more wary of the lot of them.

“Damnit Malcolm!” Zach snapped, throwing the wolf a glare. “He's already lookin' cagey enough! I don't want him makin' a break for it cause yer mouth spoke before yer brain!”

Vernon furrowed his brow. “I ain't gonna-”

“Hey, It was just an accident!” Xavier replied, cutting Vernon off.“No need to jump down Malcolm's throat.”

The general unease and anxiety seemed to be rising rapidly as the wolves continued to bicker, especially whenever Vernon tried to interject, in which case he was quickly talked over by another brother. It was annoying, sure, but everyone around him seemed so jumpy it was to be expected. Vernon was certain a part of that revolved around the fear that they still expected him to try to get away, and that hearing him out would only result in him attempting to talk his way out of the cuffs and making run for it. Then again, once the wolf was in the passenger seat, it wasn't like he was in a great position to try and flee anyway, and that was more or less what Vernon had been trying to tell them only to be cut off each time by another round of arguing between the Hunter males. But there was clearly more to the spats of aggressive and defensive posturing between them as the arguing went on. And it only furthered the wolves suspicions that whatever his brothers were sitting on, was controversial. At least where Vernon was concerned.

The argument probably went on for a good five minutes before something happened that took Vernon completely by surprise. Yuri, who had largely kept silent while the other brothers argued over who should drive let out a loud, irritated huff as he began to tromp toward the group of mammals. Vernon barely had time to register what was going on before Yuri had pulled him free of the other wolves, taking it upon himself to restrain Vernon and lead him over to the passenger side of the truck. For the first time since the wolf had been restrained by his brothers, the wolf felt a renewed surge of panic run through him. Although previously, the sudden wash of fear and urge to flee had been extinguished as soon as Vernon realized it was simply his brothers restraining him. Was he angry and confused? Most definitely. But he trusted the bulk of his brothers to not take advantage of the situation, both as officers of the law, and having little to no axe to actually grind with Vernon. But Yuri on the other paw, well, if he had been looking to get his revenge for the night before, he had certainly positioned himself in the perfect place to get it. And with Vernon unable to defend himself, who knew how long it would take to pry the jet black wolf off of him should he decided to give Vernon another beating.

Vernon desperately tried to squirm free, but it did little to break the painfully tight grip of the dark-furred wolf as he roughly pushed him along the passenger side of the vehicle.

“HEY!” Vernon heard Zach yelp.

“YURI, WHAT ARE YO-!?”

“JUST SHUT UP!” Yuri spat, as he yanked the passenger side door open. With a hard shove, Vernon spilled into the passenger seat face first. Now free of Yuri's grip, the wolf desperately tried to right himself, squirming against the fabric in a desperate attempt to get his paws over his head and around his front to block whatever flurry of blows was coming. But the wolf's struggle came to an abrupt stop as he heard the unmistakable sound of the car door slam behind him. Shifting his body around, Vernon managed to pop his head up just in time to catch Yuri tromping around the hood of his truck, his eyes locked on the Hunters across from him. Out of the drivers side window, Vernon could see his other brothers watching Yuri, a mixture of confusion and anger on their faces as they called out to him. But whatever they were saying to the wolf, Vernon couldn't quite make out. Between the rabble of Hunters arguing over one another and the sealed cab of the truck, their voices were partially muffled and hard to distinguish aside from a few choice words. Mostly ones that sounded suspiciously like 'no' and 'stop'. Vernon winced as he tried to swallow the lump that was rapidly forming in his throat.

It was only as Yuri tore the passenger side door wide open, did the cab fill up with the clamoring voices of his brothers.

“I”M GONNA DRIVE ALRIGHT!?” Yuri snarled, flashing his fangs at the other hunters before his angry expression softened into more of a resentful glare. The wolf let out a derisive snort as he turned back toward the open cab, and leaned a knee up onto the drives seat. "Bunch a damn sissies."

“Oh cause that's a great idea.” Zach said with a laugh. “ Y'all want to take a good look in one of Ma's side mirrors and tell me with a straight face why puttin' you both alone together isn't gonna just lead to trouble?”

Vernon watched his brother glance at the mirror for a moment, the wolf letting out a soft scoff before turning back to the other Hunters as placing his paws on his hips.

“He does have a point.” Xavier muttered, pressing his glasses up slightly.

The black-furred wolf crossed his arms defensively “I gotta drive don't I?” Yuri hissed. “Asides, Vern's restrained.” The wolf cocked a brow. “ Wouldn't exactly be fair to beat on a mammal who can't defend himself.”

It was a strange sentiment coming from Yuri, at least to Vernon. The mammal had never seemed to be on to really give a damn when it came to playing fair.

"Oh, now suddenly y'all care about that kinda stuff?" The errant comment earned a particularly nasty glare from the black-furred wolf. It was, at the very least, a brief moment of recognition that Vernon was more than a an object being moved around at his brother's leisure. But it was short-lived, and soon the wolf's focus was back on the apparent task at paw.

“We're gonna be LATE if we keep up this DAMN SQUABBLIN'!” Yuri spat. “So either pick someone else or let me do the drivin', cause we're runnin' out of TIME!”

The other brothers shared an uncertain glance, the wolves looking to one another to say something before grouping into a rather sloppy looking huddle. With their backs turned away, and deliberately speaking in low tones Vernon could barely make out anything that was being said during the brief huddle. He desperately tried to crane his head, tilting his ears in the direction of the mob in his best effort to decipher the quiet mumbling and musings, but the only thing he managed to make out was when he heard Ulric bark out what sounded like 'why me'? But just as soon as the Hunters began their silent deliberation, it just as quickly came to an end. And once it broke up, it was Xavier who took the lead, the well-dressed wolf taking a step forward before speaking.

“We'll let you drive Yuri.” Xavier muttered. “Provided Ulric is seated between the both of you.”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Seriously!?”

Zach crossed his arms, glowering at the dark-furred wolf.

“It's either that, or were lettin' Ully drive and you'll be in back with us.” Zach grumbled. “Take yer pick.”

Vernon watched as the rest of the Hunters slowly joined in Zach's defensive and defiant posture, the wolves all crossing their arms and glowering at the wolf standing between Vernon and the others.

Yuri let out a snarl, placing a paw on the driver's side door and slamming it shut so hard Vernon could hear the glass rattling in the frame. Again, the wolf found himself cut off from the conversation as Yuri began to argue loudly with the others. But at the very least the wolf had picked up another clue. Like his mother, Yuri had also emphasized that whatever was going to happen had some degree of time constraints regarding it. There was clearly some sort of deadline at stake, and the longer they drew out getting fitted for tux's, the higher the chance of missing or screwing up whatever plan had been put together.

Yuri was gesturing wildly, but the rest of the Hunter pack remained unmoved by his efforts. Their unflinching glares remaining fixed on the wolf regardless of how loudly he seemed to protest. It was clear whatever argument the wolf was making for himself was doing little to sway the consensus. Eventually, Vernon saw Yuri throw his arms up in the air in a defeated gesture, turning to lean against the door as Ulric began to walk toward the car. The wolf couldn't hear Yuri sigh, but the sudden flush of fog on the window was enough to tell him as much.

Once Ulric had reached the wolf's side, Yuri listlessly opened it once again, stepping aside as he gestured the dusky grey inside.

“Just keep yer damn mouth shut Ully.” Yuri muttered, gesturing Ulric inside with a paw. “And if you twitch too much I'm gonna swat you.”

Ulric let out an indignant huff as he keeled into the seat.

“I might be an expert at uncovering secrets.” Ulric grumbled, sliding over onto the middle of the seat and uncomfortably close to Vernon. “But I'm pretty good at keeping them too!”

Yuri let out an irritated sigh as he leaned into the driver's seat, gesturing a paw to the other Hunters as they began to round the truck bed. Once again, the dark wolf slammed the door shut so hard it made the whole car rattle.

“What's wrong with you anyway?” Ulric asked Yuri. “Ain't it a little early fer yer hackles to be raised this high?”

The black wolf flashed him a hateful sneer, causing the wolf to cow slightly before turning back to jam the keys into the ignition.

“Geeze...” Ulric muttered. “Sorry I asked.”

From there, the silent treatment began in earnest. Well, at least for the most part. Ulric did surprisingly well when it came to keeping his word in regards to whatever secret they were keeping. But Yuri's behavior was growing increasingly hard to read, which was somewhat uncharted territory for Vernon. The Yuri Vernon knew generally came in two flavors, irritable, and cruel. Yet during a majority of the drive Vernon found that Yuri kept glancing over at him. The wolf's generally annoyed expression faltering each time, giving way to something looking a bit more troubled. It was a look of discomfort that hadn't quite matched the one the rest of his brothers seemed to consistently wear throughout this whole little kit-napping stint. There was clearly something on the wolf's mind, but he seemed unable to bring himself to say it.

Of the few times he attempted to open his mouth, he said nothing. His muzzle simply hung open for a moment before he snapped it shut again, turning away from Vernon and Ulric and letting out another irritated huff as he slammed a paw against the ridge of the steering wheel. Vernon couldn't be sure what to make of it, but considering who it was coming from, he assumed whatever he had to say probably wasn't worth listening to anyway. Thankfully Vernon had Ulric to act as a shield should Yuri decide to try anything, even if listening to the rather banal banter about 'the underwater Kingdom of Cetacea' from the dusky grey wolf was hard to endure without dozing off.

Arriving at the local tailor's, Yuri was quick to bail out of the vehicle. The dark wolf letting off another annoyed huff as he left Vernon to be dealt with by the other Hunters. It was the last the wolf would see of that particular brother for the rest of the morning as he was taken back into custody by Trenton and Zach. The same quiet procession from the farm replaying itself as they led the wolf into the local tailor's shop. Coming to a stop at the front desk, an older looking female armadillo adjusted her half-moon glasses as she appraised the group of mammals with a curious eye. For a moment Vernon expected her to panic when she fully registered what she was seeing. To pick up her phone and dial for the local police. Provided Dorian wasn't somehow behind whatever was going on, there was a good chance Vernon could have seen his freedom right then and there. But instead, the old mammal let out a soft chuckle.

“Ah...Dorian's boys.” The older mammal tutted. “I'd expect nothing less.”

“Great...” The wolf thought to himself. He should have known that the size of the population in the North Meadowlands would ensure that everyone knew the Hunters and by extension the Hunter sons. With this sort of behavior being largely considered a norm for the family of wolves, Vernon knew at that moment he probably wasn't going to find any help in this place.

“Ma wanted us to thank y'all again fer bein' able to help us pull this together on such short notice Misses Dasy”. Zach said with an uncomfortable grin.

"I don't suppose y'all would be willin' to tell me what this is all about ma'am?" Vernon asked. The wolf winced as he felt Zach's elbow dig into his rib, which caused the wolf to let out a whine before flashing his brother a sharp glare. However, Zach continued to ignore him.

“Now, now boys, no rough housin' in my establishment.” The old armadillo giggled, hopping off her stool and dusting off her tan colored skirt with a paw. “Same rules apply, just like the ol' days.” Glancing up at Vernon, the little mammal cracked the wolf a wry grin.

“And as fer you young man, I'm under strict orders not to whisper so much as a peep to you.” The armadillo waggled a finger at the wolf

'Old days?' Vernon thought to himself. It was a strange little reply, and it began to tug at the rusted old gears in the back of the wolfs mind. Faint images from something long ago, another forgotten memory that he couldn't quite recall. All it left him with was the impression that the rodent was oddly more familiar than she had appeared at first glance.

“We got a place to keep him fer the time bein'?” Trenton asked the little mammal.

The armadillo giggled softly before turning and walking into the boutique, gesturing the larger mammals to follow her.

“Probably one of the dressing rooms would be the best fit.” Misses Dasy chuckled.

“Well, we kinda need a place with somethin' to tie him to.” Zach said. “We ain't too sure if he's fixin' to run still or not.”

Vernon glared at his brother again, but Zach's only response was to give him a light shove as they began to dutifully follow the little armadillo through the store.

Misses Dasy shook her head as she walked, letting out another quiet chuckle.

“I swear, you boys haven't changed at all since you were pups have you?” The armadillo replied. “I still don't know how ol' Auddey kept up with you, because I know I barely could.”

It was then recognition hit the wolf like a sack of bricks, so much so that Vernon stumbled slightly as he registered just who the mammal was.

“Wait, Mrs Dasy?” Vernon murmured. “Auntie Abby?”

That got the mammal to turn her head and regard the wolf, flashing him a smirk as

came to a stop.

“And here I thought y'all had forgotten about yer ol' honorary auntie.” The armadillo said, cocking a brow.

In truth, Vernon had, almost entirely. Abigail Dasy, the mammal that used to pupsit the Hunter brood was quite the distant memory at this point in his life. Buried behind the portion of his past he had tried so desperately to forget, woven up among all the baggage tied to everything that had led up to his more difficult years in life. However, the recognition only served to further clue the wolf in on just how much of a conspiracy was at paw. If there was little chance she would help him as a mammal he thought was outside of whatever was going on, there was no hope of convincing her knowing she was somewhat tight-knit with his parents.

“I-I-I-...” Vernon stammered.

The mammal smirked.

“Oh, Vernon.” The mammal's expression turned to worry as she leaned up on her toes in an effort to better inspect him. Abigail adjusted her glasses, squinting her eyes softly in a clear effort to focus her sight. “ Don't tell me your brothers went so far as to rough you up to get you here?”

“Huh?” Vernon quirked an eyebrow, only to swiftly realize that the tiny mammal was referencing his wounded face.

“Those bruises...” Misses Dasy tutted. “You poor thing. Who did that?”

“Take a guess.” Zach replied.

Vernon heard a scoff come from somewhere behind him.

“Ain't like I did it to get him here!” The wolf hissed. “It was yesterday!”

The small mammal shook her head dismissively.

“Some things never change I suppose...” The armadillo said with a sigh. “I hope y'all got a plan to cover that up?”

“Ma 'ill handle it.” Zach shrugged. “She's good at coverin' that kinda stuff up.”

Abby chuckled. “Well she has been doin' that fer long enough, hasn't she.” The tiny mammal let out a warm sigh.

"Anywho, the reminiscin' can wait. Let's get movin' shall we?" The armadillo once again gestured to the mammals to follow her as she began to walk deeper into the store.

“The materials room has an old wooden chair with spokes that's about his size.” The armadillo mused. “O' course, he could probably just run out with the chair strapped to 'im iffin' he's really desperate.

“Don't worry Misses D.” Wade replied. “We'll er....we'll take turns watchin' him till he's ready to go.”

“Please boys.” Abigail tutted. “I know it's been a long time, but y'all can still call me Auntie Abby.”

From there Vernon was led into the room he now found himself in, strapped to the dingy old chair with the faded floral padding with a few additional zip-ties. They had simply sat him down and left him, the brothers entering and exiting quietly as they 'switched shifts', and leaving Vernon mostly to his own thoughts. Unlike before, the silence and small talk seemed to be something more calculated, with a definitive goal or aim. The uneasiness was still there, certainly. But it was more subdued as the Hunters shuffled in and out of the quiet little chamber. The occasional small talk from Trenton giving the wolf little to no actual stimulation to distract him from the figurative stink in the air. And the more Vernon ruminated on that particular scent, his conclusions about whatever secret event began to narrow into something more focused and easy to read.

In his head, the wolf replayed the scene from the kitchen over again and again, trying to recall his mother's expression when she assured him that his father wasn't involved with whatever hare-brained scheme they were enacting involving himself and Dawn. At the time, she had been able to convince him that she was speaking to him in earnest. But the more he continued to reflect on the memory, the more refined and detailed the scene became. And as it sharpened in his thoughts, the wolf slowly became aware of the more minute nuances in the way his mother had spoken. The way her muscles twitched, and the brief, albeit slight change in expression he had failed to notice earlier during the frenzy of the morning ambush.

It was only there for a moment, when the wolf reluctantly agreed to trust her, but he could see it now. It was something that was tickling at the old Hunter intuition, gingerly plying at the red flags in his head as he reviewed it again and again. Vernon was growing increasingly certain that while his mother might be lying to him completely, there was at the very least, a half-truth in play. There was something important she was keeping from him, and that seemed to be something to do with just how much his father may actually be involved with whatever all this was.

This line of thought made the wolf all the more aware of every little thing his brothers were doing, albeit it a limited capacity. It was as if he was being treated like a suspect that the wolves were trying to get to talk. To confess or agree to anything in order to get out of the zip ties that currently kept him trapped there. Trenton's small talks and Zach's damnable silence had to be some strange form of the old 'good cop, bad cop' routine. The two taking turns plying at the wolves patience in order to get him to do something. Although Zach choosing to remain silent probably had more to do with the fact that the wolf would have most likely had a hard time being aggressive toward Vernon. As for the others, well, they were more than likely aware that one of Vernon's biggest pet peeves was when those around him talked about him without addressing him. To Vernon, it was even more insulting than talking behind his back.

On top of that, regardless of which brother was in charge of watching him at the time, or what tactic was in play, they continually passed around a pair of pruning shears as they waited presumably for Vernon's fitting. Leaving the wolf to watch the key to his freedom being continually dangled just out of reach. It was all calculated, it had to be. But to what end? What exactly were they hiding from the wolf, and what did they want out of him?

Either way, whatever this game was, he was done playing along, he had been far too patient all in an effort to see where everything was going. But now he wanted answers, and he was leaving if he didn't get them, even if that meant sprinting off with the entire chair strapped to him as Auntie Abby had joked about, and waiting for his mate to return back at the ranch.

“I don't know...” Xavier mused. “He still seems ready to bolt to me.” The wolf glanced at his mate nervously. “Maybe we should just tell him.”

“We made a promise Xavier!” Malcolm tapped his mate on the snout.

“I don't know what game yer all playin' at but I want some damn answers!” Vernon hissed.

“And you'll get 'em Vern, you'll get 'em soo-”

“Now!” Vernon snapped. “I want answers now dammit!” The wolf stomped a foot.

With that, Trenton poked his head between the curtains, eyeing the other wolves curiously.

“Is everything all right back here?” The white wolf asked.

“No!” Vernon snarled. “Everthin' ain't alright!”

“Well, I can see that.” Trenton replied, easing through the curtains. The wolf was already fitted in a tux of his own. The black material and matching black tie creating a sharp contrast to his own bristling white fur. “What's wrong Vernon?”

Vernon stared at the wolf for a moment, dumbfounded. The grey wolf blinking his eyes a few times as he stared at his brother in disbelief.

“What's wrong?” Vernon muttered, letting out a soft laugh. “WHAT'S WRONG!?” The wolf spat.

“Easy Ver-.”

“You fella's tackled me!” The wolf trashed in his seat. “Tied me up like some criminal! Split me and Dawn up, and dragged me off without tellin' me WHY!”

The wolves collectively winced as Vernon emphasized the word 'why' with a gnash of his teeth.

"Y'all keep tellin' me everythin's fine!" Vernon gasped. "That you'll tell me soon! Just hold on!" The wolf shook in his chair again. "But meanwhile I'm sittin' here trussed to a chair like I'm bein' held ransom!"

“Vern-!”

"And don't think I can't tell when y'all are tryin' to play me like I'm bein' interrogated!" The wolf spat.

The wolves winced again, glancing at one another uncomfortably at the accusation. There was a clear sense of shame exuding from the mammals, letting Vernon know he had clearly hit the mark.

“In-Interrogation?” Trenton queried.

"Teeth to tails, whether I got you talkin' to me about the weather or Zach shuttin' me out it ain't exactly hard to tell you guys are treatin' me like I'm a suspect!" The wolf snarled. "So what is it!? HUH!? WHAT ARE YOU TRYIN' TO DO HERE EXACTLY!? WHAT ARE YOU TRYIN' TO GET OUT OF ME!?"

The unsettling silence returned to the room as the wolves glanced at one another with uncertainty. By now Zach had entered the room, joining the other wolves in the uncomfortable silence as he had clearly heard most of the shouting from outside. The russet wolf adjusted his pale orange tie, pulling at the neck of his dress shirt uneasily. Zach opened his muzzle for a moment before snapping it shut again and looking toward the floor.

“Look...” Vernon finally spoke again. “I've put up with this game long enough.” The wolf continued. “I think I deserve some answers.” The wolf shook his head. “At the very least I'd like to go back to bein' treated like one of yer brothers.”

That had the rest of the pack glancing at the floor, the sense of shame among them that much stronger as they failed to make eye contact with Vernon. Despite Vernon's pleading they all remained silent, occasionally catching the glance of one another as the wolf's patience continued to wear thin.

“Well...?” Vernon asked.

“Well, I mean that's not exactly how an interrogation works bu-.”

Vernon cut the white wolf off as he started to growl.

“L-look Vern.” Zach finally spoke, raising his head slightly as he rubbed at the back of his head. “We, I mean. We a-ain't.”

“Look, it ain't like we're doin' this to get some sorta rise outta ya.” Trenton seemingly picked up where Zach had left off. “I-I mean it ain't purposeful...it's just.”

Xavier stepped forward, adjusting his glasses as he let out an uncomfortable cough. “It's just this whole situation is...rather unique...” The wolf glanced at his paw, idly tapping his forefingers together in a nervous manner.

“We all love you!” Zach interjected, only to seemingly awkwardly balk at his own declaration. “I mean were brothers, y'know?” The wolf scratched the back of his neck uneasily. “S-So its hard fer us to..fer us to...”

“To hold back on telling you certain things, because it feels like lying.” Xavier continued in Wade's absence. “It's an uncomfortable situation.”

“Yer tellin' me...” Vernon muttered, glancing back at his retrained paws.

“It's hard on all of us Vern.” Zach spoke up, wringing his paws together.

“So...in order to cope we've sort of...er...” Wade murmured, his eyes downcast as he studied the rug at his feet in an effort to avoid Vernon's gaze. “Been tryin' to distance' ourselves... in order to keep from sayin' somethin' dumb.”

Zach shrugged. "I guess that made most of us slip into cop mode without fully realisin' it..." The wolf murmured. "Looks like we leaned into the skid a little too hard though."

Vernon was utterly confused. On the one paw it explained the weird, pseudo-interrogation like situation he found himself in. But the amount of effort undertaken to keep whatever this secret was hidden seemed excessively extreme.

“A-Alright...I get that.” Vernon replied, shifting slightly against his seat. “I mean it's purty over-the-top if y'all ask me, but I get it.” The wolf sighed.

“But can't y'all tell me at least somethin'?” Vernon continued, the wolf looking to the others with pleading eyes as he spoke. “Anythin' to put me more at ease about this whole thing?” The wolf whimpered. “At the very least try to convince me o' somethin' that makes some sorta sense!”

The wolves looked at one another with nervous expressions, eyes darting from each mammals as they seemed to scan each other for a response.

“W-well....er....” Xavier muttered, rubbing his neck in clear discomfort. “I mean...we are going to er...attend something.”

Vernon nodded. “Okay.” The wolf replied. “A little bit more maybe?”

“A...” Wade glanced at Trenton with a quirked eyebrow. “Ceremony?” Wade waited, studying the white wolf in an apparent search for approval. Slowly, Trenton offered an nod.

“And what kind o' ceremony?” Vernon replied.

“We...er...” Trenton murmured. “Cant' say.”

Vernon let out an irritated sigh. His eyes felt dry and scratchy, but with his paws still tied behind his back, there was little he could do to fix the discomfort.

“Alright....fine...” Vernon muttered. “But why is it important fer me and Dawn to be there?”

“W-well, ya see...” Malcolm murmured, wringing his paws nervously. “Uh...it's...family related?”

Malcolm glanced to his mate with an uneasy expression, but like Trenton, Xavier gave a reassuring nod that seemed to put him at least a little more at ease.

Vernon squinted at the mammals, studying their features carefully. So far, they seemed to be telling the truth, at least as far as his gut told him. But the evidence that was gathering only grew increasingly stranger as he tried to piece together what he was being dragged into. A celebration, involving family, with tuxes for the males and dresses for the females. All of that seemed to add up to only one thing, but it just didn't make any sense. After everything that had happened at the ranch involving Dorian there was no way it could be...

Vernon let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief at his own conclusion.

“You ain't tellin' me it's some kinda tithe is it?” The wolf's remark was offhanded, nothing more than a joke that had inadvertently slipped from his muzzle. But as deathly silence filled the room, the wolf's ears pricked up. Glancing at his brothers, there was a mixture of horror and shock on their faces, Xavier and Malcolm going so far as to cover their muzzles with their paws to presumably muffle their collective gasps.

It only lasted for a moment before they had all diverted their eyes from Vernon, but the look of terror hadn't left their faces as they looked to one another in a quiet sort of panic.

“No.” Vernon chuckled uneasily. “Yer, yer kiddin' right?”

The increasingly pallid wolves were visibly sweating now. Vernon could see it glimmering on their fur as their eyes continued to dart to one another. It was a tithe. But for who? Dorian had already made his feelings on Vernon and Dawn very clear, and there was no way in hell that changed. Not after what the wolf had made oh so very clear in the dimly lit study the night before.

“Wait....so...?”

“Hey, we should probably get back to the ranch huh Fluffybuns?” Malcolm squeaked, stabbing a thumb toward the curtain. His motions were somewhat jerky, almost as if the pudgy wolf was shaking slightly as he gave the signal to his mate.

“O-Oh yes!” Xavier spoke up, the wolf flashing his mate an nervous smile. “The ceremony does need it's catering director, doesn't it?”

“Yep, yep!” Malcolm chirped, his delivery stiff and awkward as he sidled up next to his mate, wrapping an arm around his. “Now that my suits fitted and done fer, I need to get back and start barkin' orders and testin' food.” Malcolm batted his eyes at Xavier. “You'll drive me back o'course?”

“Gladly my little Gingersnap.” The wolf smiled back at his mate.

Turning to Vernon, Xavier adjusted his glasses nervously before offering the wolf a slight bow.

“I'll see you when I get back Vern.” Xavier laughed uneasily. “Hopefully this...er...” The wolf bit his lip nervously “ ' Situation' will all be settled by then.”

With that, the two wolfs dashed out of the room so fast the breeze they created had the curtain separating the back room flapping like a flag in their wake. Zach had turned to follow them, reaching out a weak paw as the two disappeared before warily retracting it.

“Cowards...” Vernon could hear Zach mutter.

Vernon stared blankly at the curtain for a moment, watching the fluttering fabric slow to a stop. Again, the wolf found himself blinking dumbly in shock as he struggled to take everything in. There was a part of him still waiting to hear the punch-line, the end of the 'hilarious' facade his brothers were putting up for him. But after Xavier and Malcolm's speedy exit, the remaining Hunter's expressions looked just as troubled and uncomfortable as they had before, if not more so. There wasn't even the hint of a creeping smile trying to force it's way to the surface of their muzzles, or a twinkle behind the eye to tell Vernon it was all just a very elaborate joke.

That was, of course, when the wolf could hold their guilty gaze for more than a minute before the turned away shamefully. Slowly but surely, Vernon was growing to realize that there was no punch-line. There was no joke at play. Someone in the family was getting tithed today, and he was going to be forced to witness it. And that, was when the anger began to set in. The wolf could feel the heat growing inside as he began to understand just what was going on.

“Who...?' Vernon muttered.

“What?” Zach asked nervously.

“Who's bein' tithed?” Vernon hissed, he could feel the fire in his belly starting to rise into his chest as he took a shuddering breath.

Everything was starting to make so much more sense now. The restraints, the fitting, all of it. If the wolf knew he was going to have to witness someone in his family get tithed, he would have at the very least been reluctant to actually stick around for it. After what he and Dawn had been through, after how decisively his father had denied their right to a tithe. To be forced to witness someone else in his family would be like having the knife Dorian had already firmly jabbed into his chest be given an additional twist by his brothers inadvertently. And that was just in regard to himself. The wolf could barely begin to fathom how much more it would hurt his mate. But for the sake of whatever brother it was, he was sure he could endure. After all, as far as the rest of the Hunter Pack was concerned, as much as it would pain him to stand by and watch, Vernon owed it to his brothers to be there for them. After all, if the circumstances were reversed, he was certain most of them would do the same for him.

“Vern-.” Zach pleaded, his ears splaying against his head as he winced.

“I-It's all right...” Vernon said, letting out another shuddering breath as he tried to temper the building anger that was squeezing on his chest like a vice. The wolf took a shallow breath, letting it out slowly as he focused his gaze on the rust colored wolf. “I-I ain't mad....j-just tell me who's gettin' hitched.”

The wolves exchanged uncertain glances, clearly searching for one another as to exactly how to say whatever was on their mind, at least as far as Vernon could tell. But with his patience already worn thin, and the fire that was lapping at his insides only seemed to swell that much more as the evasive treatment continued.

“TELL ME ALREADY!” Vernon snapped.

“MA AND PA!” Wade blurted out, a clear look of panic in his eyes. “THEY'RE RENEWIN' THEIR TITHE!”

As soon as the word slipped from his muzzle, the wolf quickly clasped his paws over it as if just how loud he had blurted out the reply had startled him. Zach and Trenton slowly turned their heads, glancing at the wolf with wide eyes. Their muzzles twisted up in an expression of pure horror. A look that, even without the actual words, seemed to say 'how could you say that?' reflected in the other wolves gazes.

“I me- I mean no-not...” Wade's voice was small. The timid, weak sentence dying in his throat as the other Hunters glares took on more of an irritated look to them. Wade slunk into his shoulders, his eyes darting between the two nervously.

Vernon however, had barely noticed much of his how his brothers were reacting to what Wade said, as the wolf was still fixed on the words themselves. Again the wolf found himself trying to make sense of just what he had heard. The initial delivery had snuffed out the fire inside of him instantaneously, like a frigid wind blustering through his frame as the shocking blow of the statement resonated through him.

The news was so impossible to wrap his head around, that it had temporarily shut down the wolf's ability to feel. The words were hollow as his mind studied each of them individually, his brain struggling to come to grips to just what Wade had admitted to. But slowly, the fire that had been so suddenly doused by the shock and disbelief began to smolder again. From just dull, weakened embers, to a steady crackling flame, growing and growing until the wolf felt himself reach the breaking point.

Watching one of his brothers tithe was one thing. It would have been painful sure, but aside from Yuri, the wolf felt his brothers deserved to have a tithe with all of the Hunter brood present. But being forced to sit there quietly and watch his smug father renew his vows just a day after he had denied Vernon and Dawn the same right. To cast them from his house, and willingly denounce him as part of the family, it was insult to injury. The wolf didn't care if it was more for his mother than anything. Hell, Vernon couldn't even begin to fathom how his mother could even consider renewing their vows after how Dorian had acted toward himself and Dawn. It added another layer of hurt to the whole twisted web of lies that had been employed to trap the couple there long enough to see it happen. For his mother to stand in that kitchen and lie to his face about just what this all was, looking at him with a nearly straight face as she protested his father's involvement, it was a trick so cruel it should have been reserved for Yuri's playbook. The wolf could feel his heart sinking fast as the feeling of betrayal weighed heavily atop it. His muscles squeezing tightly around it as the fires of his rage rose around the void his wounded heart had left behind. Vernon had been betrayed, not just by his father, but by all of them.

“Y-you dragged me here...” Vernon growled, drawing the attention of the other wolves back on him. The wolf's head had sank slightly as he had lost himself within his own thoughts. But like the inferno inside, it slowly rose to meet the other wolves nervous gazes. “Trussed me up and took Dawn...”

“V-Vern listen-” Trenton muttered softly.

“All this effort...” Vernon spat, his brow furrowing as he eyed the wolves hatefully. “Just to force me and Dawn to watch that smug...” The wolf could feel one of his eyes twitching a bile rose in his throat. “Stubborn...” The wolf's growl grew louder, his lips curling to reveal his fangs. “Hypocritical...” His teeth were on full display as he watched his brother collectively cow into their shoulders. “OLD LAW WOLF GET A TITHE!?”

“Vernon, it ain't like th-”

“AFTER WHAT HE SAID TO ME!?” Vernon was chomping at the air as he began to thrash in his seat once more. “TO DAWN!?”

Zach pulled at his collar uneasily. “Vern, please, don't-!”

“Y'ALL EXPECT US TO JUST SIT THERE AND SMILE AS HE MOCKS US IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE PACK!?” The wolf spat.

Vernon grunted softly as he rose to his feet, the chair still strapped to his back as he stood. It was heavy, the old wooden bottom thoroughly weighted with old world craftmammalship. But Vernon's nearly blinding rage made the heft of the old object feel inconsequential in the face of that blatant hypocrisy and injustice that was fueling his ire.

Zach placed his paws up defensively, gingerly gesturing to the wolf to sit back down.

“Vern, Listen-!”

“TO HAVE HIM STAND THERE AND SHOW OFF TO ME AND MY MATE WHAT HE DENIED US! TO JAM SALT IN OUR WOUNDS!?” The wolf's sharp stare darted from brother to brother as he scanned each of them. He needed to get out of there. Out of the shop and back to the ranch to wait for Dawn. Even if he had to run it all out on foot. But that required finding the weakest point of entry in the barrier his brothers had formed, as well as hopefully snagging the shears from whoever was holding them.

“AND FER MA TO LIE TO ME!”

“SHE DIDN'T LIE!” Trenton protested.

“OH BULL!” The wolf spat, shaking the chair strapped to him wildly, hoping to maybe snap the zip ties free. “HOW IS IT THE OLD MAM' AIN'T INVOLVED IN RENEWIN' THEIR TITHE!”

“DAMNIT WADE!” Zach sneered at the dusky grey wolf.

Wade held up his paws defensively. In the left one, Vernon spotted the pruning shears as he waved them in the direction of Zach.

“WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO SAY!?” Wade spat.

“ANYTHING ELSE!” Trenton barked back, but his eyes remained fixed on Vernon. The white wolf spreading his arms out in an effort to extend the blockade.

“Look Vern, Wade didn't me-”

“THEN WHAT DID HE MEAN!?” HUH!?” Vernon hissed.

“CAN WE PLEASE JUST TELL HIM!?” Wade pleaded, the dusky wolfs eyes darting between Vernon and the others. “THIS IS GETTING REALLY BA-”

“ALL OF Y'ALL SHUT YER DAMN TRAPS!”

The sudden booming voice had collectively silenced the the bickering Hunters, even Vernon falling silent as his attention turned to entrance of the room. Now standing in the doorway stood Yuri, the jet black wolf in an equally dark tux with a blood red tie fastened neatly at his collar. The wolf's irritated yellow eyes scanned the other Hunters, squinting softly as he seemed to be assessing the scene taking place.

“Goodness, what is going on back here?” Standing near the wolf's knee was Miss Dasy, the petite armadillo peeking around him as she eyed the other wolves warily.

“I've never heard bickering so bad in all my years!” The mammal tutted.

“That's cause this fluffhead said Ma and Pa were gettin' tithed again!” Zach sneered, stabbing a claw at Wade accusingly.

The dusky grey wolf drew back, crossing his arms defensively.

“Oh, so what should I have told him?” Wade scoffed. “That me and Giselle were getting tithed?” The grey wolf shook his head dismissively. “He would have taken that just as bad!”

Vernon had opened his mouth to fire off another string of heavy accusations leveled at his brothers, but Wade's confusing admission had caused the words to die in the wolfs throat. His muzzle slowly closed as he quirked a brow in confusion.

“WOULD YOU SHUT UP, YER MAKIN' IT WORSE!” Zach snapped, swatting Wade's snout with a paw. The dusky grey wolf let out a sharp whine as he withdrew from Zach's reach, clasping his paws on his muzzle protectively.

“Ain't no need to get pawsy Zach!” Trent growled at his brother.

“Boys, please...” Dasy tutted, placing her own claws up and gesturing for the wolves to calm themselves.

“Oh I barely even touched 'im!” Zach snapped back. “Besides, the big mouth deserves it after-”

“Because you would have done so much better right?” Wade retorted.

“Staying silent was an option Wade.” Trenton lamented.

Vernon slowly eased back down, allowing the weight of the chair to pull him back into a seated position as he watched the baffling argument continue.

“Boys...” Abigail fretted. “Ulric's is twitching enough without yer arguing echoing through the whole store, pleas-”

“Vernon was ready to bolt!” Wade replied, pointing the cutters toward Trenton. “Someone had to say something!”

“So say it was Trent and Qails, or hell, Ada and Yuri!” Zach spat.

“Yeah, cause Vern wants to be at Yuri and Ada's ti-”

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” Yuri barked, silencing the wolves once more. His muzzle tensed to reveal his teeth as he glared back at the other Hunters. “Wade, why don't you shut that muzzle of yers before you say somethin' else yer gonna regret.”

The grey wolf frowned, crossing his arms again as he let out a scoff.

Yuri simply rolled his eyes as he strolled further into the room, coming up along side the other wolves. Keeping his back turned to Vernon, the black-furred wolf seemed to sweep his glare across the remaining wolves. Vernon didn't need to see those peircing yellow eyes of his to know what was going on as he saw each of the Hunters shrink slightly as the dark wolf's line of sight passed over each one.

“Look at y'all...” Yuri shook his head dismissively. “Y'all are suppose ta be police officers. And yet here y'are crackin' up like a bunch of perps lookin' fer a plea deal.”

The wolf glanced back at Vernon over his shoulder, frowning softly as he eyed the confused wolf.

“Quite a feat considerin' Vern's the one trussed up here.” Yuri spat.

“This is different Yuri.” Zach protested. “I mean it's hard to-.”

“Should I have wrapped Vern's muzzle up with duct-tape?” The wolf snickered. “Would that have made it easier on y'all to keep yer heads cool?”

Vernon rolled his eyes. He could feel the the return of that seething feeling in his gut at Yuri's suggestion.

“No.” Trenton scoffed.

“Then what's yer damn problem!?” Yuri spat, flashing the wolf an accusatory glare.

“Unlike you, we got hearts in our chest.” Wade snapped back. “So tryin' to keep a secret, even if its fer a good reason, is hard fer us brothers who actually care about each other.”

Yuri lunged forward, causing Wade to recoil as Yuri's muzzle pointed down at his own, the dark wolf's fangs on full display as he let out a loud growl.

“You better bite yer tongue mutt!” Yuri hissed. “I'm already burnin' a short fuse today, and the last thing we both need is to have to pay out fer two extra suits!”

“Oh good, more threats...” Trenton sighed. “Because that never gets old.”

Reaching a paw out, Yuri snatched the pruning shears from Wades trembling paw before turning his attention to Trenton. With a glare, the wolf pointed the shears at the white wolf for emphasis.

“I mean, y'all can't separate yer feelin's from doin' yer job!” Yuri spat. “And y'all need to treat this like a job, for Vermin's sake.

Vernon let out a tired sigh. On top of everything else the wolf had to endure, Yuri had to chime in with his usual childish nicknames.

“What would y'all do if you had to interrogate someone you loved because they actually did somethin' serious!? Would y'all balk then?” Yuri snorted, pointing the shears repeatedly at Trenton's snout. “Would y'all panic and dig yerselves deeper in the rut? Scare them? Scare yerselves? Real professional.”

The dark-furred wolf turned his attention back to Vernon, the same look of discomfort crossing his muzzle as he flipped the shears in his paw.

“Usually officers aren't allowed to work on cases that involve family members for that reason Yuri.” Zach snapped. “But it ain't like we got options here!”

Yuri flashed the other wolves a smirk before walking toward Vernon. The dark-furred wolf looming over him for a few seconds before scanning around him. Vernon winced momentarily, expecting the wolf to pull a fast one. The same way he had felt when the wolf had suddenly gripped him and dragged him over to the pick-up. But once again, Yuri surprised him. The well dressed wolf instead sidling off to Vernon's side before easing himself down on a large pile of fabric spools. The wolf eased into the material as if it were a crude bean bag chair, grunting softly as he shimmied himself into a more comfortable position. Seemingly satisfied, the wolf let out a sigh before returning to flicking the shears in his paw. Yuri flashed the other Hunters a confident grin as he flipped the clippers end over end.

“Then let me handle it.” Yuri grinned. “After all, I ain't got no heart, right Wade?”

“What?” Vernon spat in disbelief.

Wade frowned softly, the wolf slinking into his shoulders and averting his gaze from the black-furred wolf. However Trenton and Zach were simply not having Yuri's proposal.

“Oh that's not happening!” Zach fired back with.

“We're just supposed to let you watch over Vernon!?” Trenton added. “After yesterday!?”

Yuri spread his arms out, gesturing to his body with his paws. “I'm here ain't I?” The wolf scoffed. “If I wasn't over it, me and Ada would have been on the first flight back to Redmound this morning.”

“Yuri-!”

The jet-black wolf leaned up in his seat, throwing the wolves a fierce glare as he bared his fangs again.

“Teeth to tails, would you give me a gods be damned chance fer once!?” The wolf sneered, running a paw through his mo-hawk like coif roughly. “Yer all so quick to think the worst of me. To call me heartless or whatever things y'all think about me before even given' me a chance to actually insult y'all!”

Zach rolled his eyes. “Can you blame us!?”

“It's not like you've done much to prove the contrary during this reunion Yuri.” Trenton muttered. “Yesterday's little stint alone doesn't exactly bolster my confidence in y'all behaving like a civilized mammal.” The white wolf briefly glanced to the wolf strapped to the wooden chair. “Especially around Vernon.”

Yuri scoffed, lolling his head back as he leaned deeper into the mound of spools. “Like y'all ain't just waitin' to spring on me the moment I say somethin' you think is off-color.” The wolf sneered. “Y'all are always ready to punish me even before I even think of sayin' somethin'.” The wolf shook his head. “Like I'm some sort of thought criminal.”

“Again...” Zach scoffed. “Can you blame us?” The wolf retorted.

“You've been a jerk to all of us since we were pups!” Wade interjected. “Why shouldn't we expect you to be a jerk now?”

“Well an attitude like that certainly don't give me any incentive to act any other way.” Yuri scoffed. “After all, if yer gonna treat me like a criminal, I might as well give ya a reason to justify it.”

“Oh, don't act like your behavior is on us, be-”

“Look...”Yuri leaned forward, cutting Trenton off mid-sentence. “I got enough shit to deal with back home without bein' forced to come out to this backwater hole and deal with even more of it.” Yuri idly passed the shears from paw to paw as he spoke. “I don't expect any of y'all to understand, and frankly, I don't give a shit.”

Vernon watched his brothers brows collectively furrow at Yuri's statement.

“But fer just once, could y'all give me just a lick of trust.” The wolf continued. While his expression remained tense, the was an undercurrent of something Vernon couldn't place. Then again, Vernon had never been good at reading Yuri. The wolf defied the use of Hunter intuition when it came to those trying to use it against him.

“I swear on Ma's good name that my intentions ain't bad.” The wolf stopped fiddling with the shears for a moment, his ears sagging slightly as he looked to the other Hunters. “Asides, y'all had yer shots at keepin' the peace and y'all wasted 'em.”

“I wouldn't sa-”

“Y'all already talked yerselves into enough of a corner.” Yuri cut him off, pointing the shears at Vernon. The wolf drew back slightly at the sight of the blades, wincing in discomfort. The last mammal he trusted to handle those things safely was Yuri. “Knowin' Vern, the only thing he's gonna accept from y'all is truth goin' forward. And knowin' y'all, you'll just crumble and spoil all Ma's hard work.”

The dark-wolf's confident smile returned. “But I ain't emotionally compromised like the rest of y'all.” Yuri chuckled. “I can keep a cool head while I keep him company.”

“Cool hea-!?” That protest had come from Vernon, but almost as soon as he spoke Yuri held up his paw to cut him off. Glancing over to his brother, he met his familiar piercing yellow gaze. Vernon had expected hate, or ire in those eyes, the emotions he was more than familiar with when it came to Yuri. But again, he was met with that same uneasy look. It was as if he was attempting to look pleading, but the expression looked unnatural on him.

“I need some time to talk to you anyway.” Yuri sighed. “Brother to brother, y'all get me?”

Vernon quirked an eyebrow at just how preposterous Yuri's request sounded. The very fact that the wolf had asked it almost felt as though it was some sort of hallucination that Vernon was suffering from. The stress and tension of the whole trip finally pushing him to his mental limits and utterly breaking his grasp on reality.

“I promise y'all I'll tell you what you need to know.” Yuri continued, pointing the shears at Vernon once before cocking his head at the remaining Hunters. “And I promise, it ain't a trick....just...hear me out alright...?”

Vernon stared at his brother for what felt like ages, his eyes frantically searching for any form of a tell that gave away Yuri's true intention. But the wolf's face remained solemn and still, frozen in that hideous attempt at a pleading look. It was an expression that just didn't fit him. A face he found to be almost entirely unrecognizable as belonging to Yuri.

Vernon wanted whatever the truth was, or at least as much of it that could be told to make for a satisfying explanation as to the level of effort required to keep him here. And if Yuri was to be believed, the other Hunters had done a terrible job of explaining it to him. But Yuri was a master deceiver, at least in Vernon's own experience growing up along side him. And while pretending to come bearing an olive branch was not in his usual wheelhouse, it wasn't out of the question that Yuri would use such a tactic. But then there was the logical question of the wolf's motives. If it was indeed a trick, then what was Yuri ultimately aiming to do? To upset Vernon further? To beat him senseless for revenge before the rest of their brothers could stop him? Or maybe just to force him and Dawn to sit through a ceremony that only stood to mock their own trials and tribulations. All of the answers seemed like a lot of effort to go through for very petty aims, but Yuri had a tendency to be petty when it came to Vernon.

“Y'all know Ma would skin me alive at best if I even touched a hair on Vern before tonight.” The wolf added, waving the clippers idly at the rest of the Hunters. “C'mon. Give me a shot.”

The other three Hunters exchanged uneasy glances, looking to one another in brief silence as Vernon could only assume they were quietly deliberating Yuri's plea. Wade looked particularly uncomfortable, offering a very weak dismissive nod to the other two wolves. The motion behind the gesture being just great enough to be perceived as a quiet 'no', but not so terse as to perhaps draw Yuri's attention to him specifically. Still, despite Wade's clear disapproval, he seemed unwilling to say it out loud, which left the room open for Trenton to take the lead.

“O...k...” Trenton mumbled, drawing the two wolves attention back on him. The uncomfortable looking white wolf scratched the back of his head awkwardly, his eyes shifting away from the seated wolves.

“I...We'll give you a shot at fixin' this...” Trenton continued.

“What!?” Wade spat. “You can't be serious!”

Vernon's jaw dropped, But Yuri's smile grew large enough to show off his fangs. The wolf wanted to speak, wanted to protest. But Yuri's confusing words coupled with the sudden shock had left him grasping for any semblance of a rebuttal.

Trenton quickly held up a paw, gesturing to the dusky grey wolf to settle down.

“I hate to say it, but fer once I feel like he's actually bein' reasonable...” Trenton sighed. “Considerin' the rest of us are far too busy trippin' over our tongues over here to make any real progress on calmin' Vern down.”

Zach gave the white wolf a gentle shove, drawing his attention.

“Trenny, you sure about this?” Zach muttered. “We're just gonna leave 'em alone together? After yesterday?”

Trenton held his paw up to Zach.

“But.” Trenton continued. “We will be right outside, with our ears on the room to make sure nothing funny goes on in here.”

Vernon watched Yuri's grin falter almost immediately. But Trenton's declaration was enough to relieve Vernon to some degree, at least enough to shut his muzzle again.

“AW COME ON NOW!” Yuri protested.

Trenton shook his head, crossing his arms defiantly.

“That's all were gonna offer, take it or leave it.” The wolf replied.

Yuri leaned up in his ad-hoc chair, glaring back at Trenton with disdain, but the white wolf didn't flinch. His icy blue eyes remaining fixed on Yuri's sharp yellow irises as they entered into a stare down. The room fell silent as the two wolves faced one another, the air growing thicker and thicker as the wolves tried to intimidate one another. To Vern, it was almost like a scene out of an old western movie. The classic shoot-out, with both wolves waiting on the clock to strike noon to see who was fastest on the draw. But there were no guns here, no waiting for the chime. It was just a battle of will, the victor the one with the sharpest glare. And someone would inevitably cave.

And this time, Yuri was the one to balk in the face of Trenton's glare. The wolf letting out an annoyed huff as he slung himself backwards into the mound of spools.

“UGGGHHH!” Yuri groaned. “Alright, alright...FINE!”

Shaking his head, the wolf leaned back up into a sitting position, running a paw though his mo-hawk in order to neaten it up. The wolf titled his head slightly to regard the other Hunters.

“Just don't listen in more than y'all need to...” Yuri muttered. “I was aimin' fer the conversation to be mostly between the two of us...”

The other Hunters exchanged confused looks, the wolves raising a brow at one another as they seemed to mull over the concept of 'Yuri' and a 'private conversation'. Of course Vernon was just as baffled. After all, Yuri only had two conversational tones, whispered threats and loud insults. Thus any attempt at being discreet and civil was usually something the wolf seemed to be incapable of.

“A-Alright...We-...” Zach scratched his head awkwardly. “We'll try?” The russet wolf glanced to Trenton, seeming looking to the wolf for acknowledgment. Trenton gave a meek nod before turning his attention back to Yuri.

“We'll try to keep our ears up fer just the sound of fightin'.” Trenton muttered, turning toward the curtain. The wolf began to walk toward it as the other two Hunters watched warily. For a moment it seemed like they weren't sure whether they should follow along. It was clear they were reluctantly to leave Vernon behind. But slowly they too began to trudge toward the exit. The white wolf parted the curtain, passing half-way through before glancing back over his shoulder at the two wolves.

“Just tell ol' Ully to spy on us.” Yuri called out, letting out a soft chuckle. “He don't want us fightin' either, and anything he hears and repeats can be considered dubious at best.”

The white wolf let out a snort. “Don't make us regret this.” Trenton muttered, before finally slipping out of the back room. Zach followed shortly after, giving Vernon a final uneasy glance before slipping away behind the thick, pale green curtains.

Wade was the last to leave, stopping for a moment to appraise the two seated wolves. Wade offered them a meek smile.

“I-I'm sorry Vern.” Wade shook his head. “I really hackled things up.”

Yuri chuckled. “Just like always, huh Wade?”

Wade flashed the wolf a glare, lunging forward and baring his teeth. But the wolf barely managed to take a step back into the room before a white paw clasped onto his shoulder, stopping him from going any further. Wade glanced out through the curtains, wincing slightly as his ears flattened against his head.

“Let it go Wade.” Vernon could hear Trenton say. “Hold it back unless y'all need to put it to use.”

With a snort, Wade flashed the black-furred wolf a hateful glare before reluctantly slipping out of the room, the curtains slowing winding down to a close behind him.

Vernon and Yuri were alone now. And the realization was enough to make the wolf immediately tense up. He was at Yuri's mercy now. After all, he was bound tightly to the chair, and with no Ulric to act as a meat shield there would be no one to block whatever flurry of blows Yuri could get in before the others could scramble back in to save him. Glancing back at the yellow wolf seated next to him, Vernon could see that same uncertain look in his eye. That strange, thoughtful look about him that told the wolf that the gears in Yuri's head were probably spinning off wildly. Most likely with hundred of different thoughts on how best to make Vernon pay for the stitches on the bridge of his snout.

“Relax Vermi-.” The wolf stopped himself, shaking his head briskly before choosing to correct himself. “Vernon. I asked y'all to hear me out. I ain't gonna try anything...” It was strange to have Yuri go out of his way to correct himself without their mother looming over him.

Vernon tried to swallow, but the lump that had formed in his throat refused to budge as he began to weigh his emergency options. His eyes darted to the curtain again. If he put all of his force and energy into it, he was sure he could make a break for it before Yuri had time to react. He'd still be strapped to the chair, but at the very least he'd have a chance at getting away from the more imminent threat.

“W-why...?” Vernon stammered as his eyes returned to Yuri. The wolf had gone back to idly playing with the pruning shears. Passing them from one paw to the other. “W-why should I t-trust you?”

Yuri let out a tired sigh. With a soft groan, the wolf rose to his feet, taking a moment to dust of his tux with a paw before turning to face the wolf. Brandishing the clippers in his paw and opening the safety lock, the wolf began to clip at the air in-front of him. Vernon felt a surge of adrenaline rush though him at the horrifying sight. The time had come to flee, it was now or never. But as Vernon attempted to pull his chair off the ground, he felt it suddenly forced back down by the weight of Yuri's foot. The jet-black wolf had braced the base with one paw in an effort to keep him from running, effectively trapping him there.

Vernon forced his eyes shut, leaning as far back in his chair as he could in order to try to get away from him. He was boxed in now. Short of pulling out of his restraints to defend himself, there was little he could do to stave off the wolf's advance.

'This is it.' The wolf thought. 'He's gonna gouge up my face to get back at me!'

Vernon writhed and strained, pulling at the ties in an desperate final attempt at escape. But to no avail. The zip ties remained tightly fixed. All the continued pulling did was gnaw at his flesh and burn his fur. There was no escape

“TRE-!”

The wolf fell silent amidst his sudden cry for help as he felt the pressure around his wrists suddenly release. The restrictive plastic ties had suddenly given way, the hard material slipping limply down against the cushion of the chair as Vernon brought his arms around to inspect them.

The zip cuffs had left a slight depression in the fur, and if Vernon looked close enough he could see the outline of the plastic teeth in his flesh just beyond it. Although the wolf couldn't be sure if Yuri had initially tied them too tightly, or if the damage had been done mostly by his own straining. Still it was a confusing sight, and as Vernon rubbed at his wrist to chase away the lingering brace, his eyes darted around to find Yuri. The wolf had already made his way around the front of the wolf, and was in the middle of easing back into the pile of fabric spools as he lamely tossed the shears off into another pile of material.

“Y-Yuri?” Vernon muttered.

“There.” The wolf muttered. “Ain't nothin' keepin' you here now.” The wolf glanced back at Vernon with a furrowed brow. “So if you want out, there's the door.” The jet-black wolf lamely gestured to the curtain before listlessly dropping his arm to his side. “Hell, I won't even try to stop you.”

“B-But...Wha...?” Vernon stammered as he struggled to make sense of Yuri's seemingly altruistic gesture. He was sure he had to be hallucinating now.

“You can thank me later...” Yuri shrugged. “Or preferably now.” The wolf chuckled. “I mean, I could have forced you to listen to me.” The wolf grinned his more familiar mischievous smile. “It was real temptin'.”

Vernon scoffed at the wolf's comment.

“Yeah, a real fair fight...” The wolf scoffed.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Oh fer cryin' out loud, I ain't lookin' fer a fight.”

“Then what are you lookin' fer?” Vernon snapped back. “What is this all about?”

“I told y'all...” Yuri grumbled. “I just wanted y'all to listen to me. I'm just lookin' to talk.”

Placing his paws on his knees, Vernon let out a long drawn out sigh. It was already hard enough to read Yuri's poker face without him talking in circles. Whatever the motivation was behind this little 'talk', for once it seemed more complicated than his usual aims. The fact that he had gone as far as to free the wolf without explaining anything, running the risk of letting him flee in order to get him to hear him out, was a grand gesture for a mammal like Yuri. The wolf wasn't the type to take big risks, and always exploited situations where he had the upper paw. But now, he had chosen to place the ball entirely in Vernon's court, under the premise that he wanted to talk. That Yuri, of all mammals, had more than two word to say to Vernon. It seemed completely insane, but up to this point so had everything else that had happened in the past few hours.

“You wanna talk...” Vernon muttered, gesturing a paw to nothing in particular. “Fine, then talk.”

#Zootopia #fanfiction #Assistant Mayor Bellwether #dawn bellwether #zoosona #wastedtimeee

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