No Longer My Master's Keeper

Alright y’all, the time has finally come!  This blog is going dormant and the new multi-muse blog is finally ready!  *Celebration plays in the background*

Because this message is long (and I know some of y’all’s dashes are about to get flooded) everything else will be under the ‘Read More.’  ^_^

Hey y'all -

I know I haven't replied to anyone in a very long time.  Long even for me.  It's a bit of a story, and still not one I'm sure I'm ready to tell/talk about.  Things are hard right now, and they've been hard for awhile.  And I've put off saying anything on my RP blogs because I knew I'd probably have to post stuff in several places and I just wasn't up for that.

First - I'm not going anywhere.  I just needed more time than I thought I would need.  I may still need time; I'm not sure.  But I'm working to be back here and keep writing with those of you who still want to write with me.

Back when things first started to happen, I wanted to share with my partners why I'd gone abnormally quiet, but the thought of telling everyone individually was numbing, and even the thought of making a post and reblogging it a bunch of places didn't sit well with me, so I just didn't do it.

It was that choice to not communicate with y'all that brought me to the realization that I needed to fix how I roleplayed.  I recognized that the number of blogs I had was a detriment to my enjoyment of this hobby.  I’ve spent so much time jumping from one blog to another to try and keep up with everything that I wasn't able to stay and enjoy the things my partners were sharing on their own blogs.  And when I had things I needed to tell y'all, there wasn't an efficient way to do it.  But I realized I could change that.  And I intend to.

I'm making a multi-muse blog.  It will house all of the muses I want to keep, and any I might decide to add along the way.  It's about halfway done right now, but I try to work on it a little every day.  With over 30 muses to add, the task is definitely a daunting one.

My plan, right now, is this: If we're currently writing together I'll follow your blog/blogs with the multimuse as soon as everything is completed.  If you'd like to know what the blog is right now and pre-follow, just let me know via IM or Discord.  But be aware, part of my preparation involves reblogging things from my old blogs and sometimes it might flood your dash.

For those of you I'm not currently writing with, if you'd like to follow, I'll make a quick post on most of my old blogs directing you to the new one once it's ready.  There's no pressure to follow me there, of course.  I'm just giving you the option if you enjoy my aesthetic posts, or my writing, or think you might want to write with me at some point in the future.  :)

As part of this plan, if I currently owe you a reply, that reply will be posted on the new multimuse when it's ready.  I know that means waiting longer, but I'm worried if I don't focus on getting this blog done, it never will be.  Please be patient with me.  💜  If you owe me a reply, it's 100% okay to reply like normal to the old blog.  Don't worry about the multimuse right now.  I want to make this transition as seamless as possible for my partners.  I'm planning to have all of my first replies on the multimuse link back to the old thread in case anyone needs refreshing at any point.  None of my old blogs are going anywhere; they just won't be active blogs anymore.  Except for an occasional post, maybe, to remind people where I've moved to.

Okay - that's everything.  If you've read this far, then thank you.  <3  Thank you for your friendship, and your patience, and your understanding.  If, for some reason, you feel like this change isn't something you can work with, that's okay, too.  There won't be any hard feelings on my part.  If you can, please let me know.  I'd rather part ways on mutually amicable terms than not know your decision and be left to wonder what happened.

Thank you, again, and I hope to see many of you on my new blog once it's ready to go.

~ Mira  💜

Adrik hunched protectively over Gelert as he helped the smaller man carefully to his feet. He poised to catch Gelert should his knees give way, but was surprised when Gelert managed, albeit shakily, to stand. Adrik still offered a supportive arm around Gelert’s shoulders, but it wasn’t needed.

How quickly Gelert recovered, from experiencing intense pain only moments before, did not go unnoticed by Adrik. He watched with a curious tilt of his head as Gelert wiped away tears and seemed to refocus his attention, as if preparing himself for whatever would happen next. The werebear had half expected to carry the smaller man out of the building, and a felt a sense of growing respect for Gelert the longer he stood beside him.

“Come,” Adrik draped his jacket over Gelert’s shoulders, and placed a gentle but firm hand against the back of Gelert’s neck. A possessive and oppressive gesture that Adrik wished he could avoid, but maintaining his cover was crucial. “Keep your eyes downcast, I will guide you,” Adrik promised, and he steered his new prize out of the building.

Adrik avoided eye contact with any of the other patrons, but he felt the hairs rise on his arms as he caught Typhon’s scent lingering in the air.

Once the cool night air surrounded them, Adrik heaved a rumbling sigh of relief. He hated places like this, the scents and sounds always made his sensitive nose and ears ache by the time he left. He knew gathering information from these places was necessary, but it didn’t make Adrik hate it any less.

Unfortunately, the stench of sex, alcohol, and smoke still clung to his clothes, despite the fresh air around them, and Adrik lost himself in the thought of a hot bath waiting for him in his cabin. Then Adrik remembered he wasn’t alone, and he glanced down at Gelert beside him. A sinking feeling weighed in Adrik’s stomach, as he realized his peaceful night alone would not be so…alone.

A large black carriage with gold accents waited for them a short way down the street, and when the driver caught sight of them the surprise at seeing Gelert was obvious. The man was smaller in stature that Adrik, (although most people are) with dark hair quaffed carefully to the side. His perfectly tailored outfit matched the color and accents of the carriage.

It wasn’t until they reached the carriage that he spoke in a hushed tone at Adrik, saying something in Russian that Adrik nodded to. Then man gestured to Gelert expectantly, and Adrik gave him a dismissive wave of his hand. Another soft phrase in Russian from Adrik, and the man scowled, clearly unhappy with Adrik’s answer. With a disapproving huff, he turned back to the horses. Adrik sighed, shook his head, and then opened the door before them.

This vehicle was larger than the average carriage, clearly made to fit Adrik’s larger size, and in turn the steps leading inside were a greater distance apart. Instead of making Gelert struggle up them, Adrik placed large hands on Gelert’s hips and easily hoisted him onto the top platform. Then Adrik followed Gelert inside, and took a seat opposite the other man. From underneath his seat Adrik pulled a blanket, and he offered it to Gelert.

“Something to cover yourself, until we can find you some clothes.”

With a knock against the ceiling, the carriage lurched into motion, starting down the street.

Every moment more spent with his new master had Gelert marveling - the strong arm offered as support should he fall, the jacket to cover himself… and that hand on his neck!  Gods, was he grateful for that.  It helped to ground him - to tell him this was all real and happening.  He wasn’t going to look up and suddenly be alone and abandoned.  All of this was happening!  Not like the others...

Once they were outside, Gelert practically felt the rumble of relief from the man beside him.  He couldn’t help but share the feeling - though he wasn’t comfortable voicing those thoughts yet.  This was all too new, and the conditioning he’d been through would take time to break.  But he did physically relax, something the other man most likely felt.  Still, he didn’t look up - not even when he heard his new master speaking softly in another tongue.  If he’d strained, he could’ve probably understood it - Gwyn had given him a gift for languages back when he was ‘favored’ - but it somehow felt rude to eavesdrop when this man had been so kind to him.

He was still looking down - observing the detailing on the wheels of the carriage - when large, callused hands settled on his hips and lifted him up into the cabin.  He inhaled sharply, a little startled, but only said, “Thank you,” before moving to take a seat so his master had room to get in behind him.  When the blanket was offered, Gelert did his best to cover himself, giving another nod of thanks and the carriage began to move.

leatherandsoil​:

Even all the way in the back of the building, as far away from the front desk and that blasted bell as they could be…Kelly still heard the loud, unmistakable !ding! that meant someone wanted to talk to him.  Well, too bad.  Gord would get it.  They could wait a bit.  

It had been one of those missions.  The kind that was long and difficult and fraught with danger in the form of super mutants.  And even though he knew it was inevitable, even though he knew Gel had done this hundreds-maybe thousands?-of times before…it never got any easier.  They had shared one last, fierce kiss before Gel had gone sprinting back towards them like a madman.  He’d drawn the pursuers away from Kelly, managed to get all three of the super mutant suiciders on him before taking them as far away from Kelly as he could.  Still…he’d heard the explosion.  Seen the mini mushroom clouds.  Thanked his lucky stars he’d taken all that Rad-X beforehand.  He’d turned his back on the whole mess and started running.  A steady, mile eating jog.  He could have stopped, waited for dawn to travel.  But stopping meant thinking, and thinking meant crying.  And he’d promised Gel he wouldn’t cry.  Gel would ask, and he’d never been able to lie to him.  So he kept moving.  Better he get home anyway.  Heavy in his breast pocket sat keys-the thing they’d been sent to fetch.  The Rangers wanted them-needed to get into a locked room behind an enormous door in an old bunker they’d found.  How they’d come to the conclusion that they needed these particular keys from that particular place was anyone’s guess.  

He’d arrived back home still in the dark.  Gord-their personal assistant bot-had gone over him carefully and proclaimed him “all right, aside from the scrapes and bruises.”  Kelly had nodded, thanked the bot and sent him back to his duties.  He’d gone to lay down in his and Gel’s room, down hallways full of pictures showcasing their greatest achievements.  Stuff nobody else had been able to do, had even been able to consider.  It had bought them renown, steady employment, money…something resembling a decent life in this post apocalyptic hellscape.  But the price…

He’d never finished that thought, because he felt Gel glimmering into existence next to him.  A slight dip in the mattress from the weight of his body, the slight pressure of the other man leaning on him, warmth where Gel was pressed up against his side, naked and asleep and alive. 

“Welcome back, love.” he’d murmured in his husband’s ear, leaning over to kiss him.  Gel had kissed him back and things went from there.  They always did.  Kelly had been afraid the first few times.  Surely coming back from death would have Gel tired and fragile and delicate?  Gel had explained, between kisses and grins, that wasn’t the case at all.  He’d said (more than once) that he always came back feeling rejuvenated, completely and fully healed.  No lasting effects.  Not even a bit of tiredness.  He’d also said that, while being dead wasn’t bad, dying was often terrible and could Kelly please do something to help take his mind off that. Usually accented with a wink and a wiggle. That usually resulted in a fucking.  A long, deliberate fucking in which Kelly reassured himself that Gel was indeed alive and well and in one piece. 

That was where he was now. Sliding in and out of his beloved’s body with slow, leisurely thrusts.  Face buried in his neck, teeth fastened gently on the damp skin there.  Ears echoing with Gel’s moans and whimpers of pleasure as he squirmed underneath him.  Until.  That.  Damned.  Bell.

With a growl, Kelly stopped mid-thrust.  Frowned in the general direction of the front room, as if he could will the customer away.  He couldn’t, but he didn’t like being interrupted.  Looking down at Gel, he smiled at the flushed, panting blonde. 

“Think you can be quiet for just a bit, love?” he asked.  Leaning forward, he pushed himself aaaaalllll the way in and paused for a second as Gel writhed on his cock, fighting down moans. When the blonde had managed to get himself under control, Kelly pushed the green button on the intercom device on the nightstand next to their bed. 

“Gord?” he questioned, not a hint of arousal in his voice.  The robot would all ready be in the front room by now, probably pattering away at whoever was out there.  “What’s up?” 

“Sir, a Mr. Lafitte here to see you about another retrieval operation.” came the bot’s voice back over the speaker. Kelly frowned for a second before pushing the button again.

“Is he with the Rangers?” he asked.  He’d said he would get them their damn keys today, and he intended to.  Just not till this afternoon.

“He indicates no, sir.” Gord replied. 

“All right then.  Give us….ten minutes.  Wrapping up a post mission examination.”  He released the button and leaned back down to Gel.

“Going to have to make this quick then.” he murmured against the other man’s mouth, beginning to thrust again.  Harder, deeper than before.  He’d all ready spent quite a bit of time getting the blonde worked up-sucking him until he was hard, then prepping him until his body was limp as a wet towel. He’d planned on getting him close several times, but this interruption would mean this would be the third and final.  He shifted, moving to his knees, changing his angle so he could thrust deeper still, spear Gel on every inch of his cock.  He could never get enough of him, how much he wanted him, how well they did everything together. He caught the other man’s lips in a fierce kiss, swallowing his desperate cries as he climaxed between them.  Kelly followed heartbeats later, thrusting deep, spending himself in the other man’s willing body.  

Gelert didn’t like to think about his life before the bombs fell.  He didn’t like to think about his life right after they fell, either.  Hell, if he was honest - the only thing he felt comfortable with these days was the ‘here and now.’  This world might not ever be what it once was, but he had someone in his life who loved him… who accepted every part of him.  And really, what else did a person need beyond that?

He loved being able to use his abilities to make Kelly’s job (their job) easier.  And yeah, sometimes that meant he had to die, but Gel didn’t mind.  Not one bit.  Every time he gave up his life, he did it knowing he was saving the life of the man he loved.  And that was more important than everything else.  Not to mention ‘resurrection sex’ was always amazing!  Not that the other times weren’t… but there was an extra level of need and intensity when Kelly made love to him after one of his deaths.  He couldn’t get enough of how it made him feel… but he also recognized what each death did to Kelly emotionally.  That was the part he hated.  They hurt the man so much… which was why Gelert always tried to leave ‘death’ as his final option.

Like this last mission.  Damn super mutants!  How was it possible something so big and stupid could sneak up on anyone like that?!  When he finally awoke (after being blown to kingdom come) Gelert was safe and sound and being held in his lover’s arms.  He returned Kelly’s kisses with matching need, letting the man take him over mind, body, and soul.

leatherandsoil​:

Hanzo flung himself across a gap between a pair of buildings, very nearly missing his mark.  Only his considerable skill and pain tolerance saved him from plummeting to the street below.  He’d been found out.  His target had been expecting him, had planned accordingly, and Hanzo had barely escaped with his life.  As it was, he’d sustained several injuries-the most pressing being his severely sprained ankle.  Only the sturdy greaves he wore allowed him to put any weight on it without having it fail completely.  Gritting his teeth, he sprinted across the rooftop and jumped, aiming for one lower down and to the left.  He landed harder than he would have liked, having to catch most of his weight on his good leg to spare his injured one.  It didn’t matter though.  None of that mattered if he couldn’t lose his pursuers.  And they seemed very intent on capturing him.  He’d all ready eliminated three of the omnics, but three were still doggedly pursuing him.  They wanted him alive, that much was clear.  Otherwise they would have simply launched grenades or rockets at him.  

Forcing himself to his feet, he ducked behind a maintenance structure, drawing an arrow as he did so.  If he could whittle down his pursuers enough, he would be in the clear.  An omnic stepped into view on the roofline, briefly backlit by security light.  Taking aim, Hanzo drew the bowstring back and fired.  His arrow flew true, piercing the omnic’s chest plate and dropping it over the edge.  But unfortunately, he’d also identified his position, and now the shots were coming all around him, hemming him in. 

He turned and sprinted for the edge, intending to make the jump to the next one.  Halfway there something stabbed into his shoulder, bringing a gasp from his lips.  He’d been shot!  But not with a bullet, seemingly.  No…as the tingling spread from his shoulder outward to his arm and down to his chest he knew he’d been hit with a neurotoxin of some kind. He’d be paralyzed in moments, unable to move.  Growling curses, he slung his bow across his chest, lest he lose it.  He needed to hide, and fast.  Dashing the rest of the way across the roof, he cleared the gap and went immediately right, ducking behind a parking structure. This was not his planned route, but he had a rough idea of something that might possibly work. Running along the edge, he dropped the short distance down to the next building and kept running, dropping down again to the next building.  His breathing was coming harder now, but he forced himself to keep going.  He couldn’t stop now.  But it was getting hard.  He lept across another gap and this time when he landed he stumbled, tucking into a roll to spare his ankle further injury.  Gasping at the combination of pain and spreading numbness, he stumbled forward, still trying to find some kind of shelter.  He staggered, then crawled into a corner before slumping to the gravel.  

He did not know how long he was out.  It could not have been very long-he had not drooled a very big puddle onto the ground. But someone was speaking to him…lifting him up.  They’d said something about helping him…an ambulance.  That could not happen.  There was too much at stake, too much chance he would be found out.  He tried to take hold of the man’s shirt, but only succeeded in feebly swatting him in the chest. 

“No ambulance.” he managed to get out.  There.  He’d made that much clear at least.  Then a horrible thought occurred to him.  He’d left tracks; he would be found!  Swiveling his head around, he looked up at the man’s face.  Blonde, blue eyes and a kind expression.  Hanzo had fallen in with a decent person…which was far more than he deserved.  “Tracks.” he panted desperately. “They…will see…tracks…” he just couldn’t make his mouth and brain work.  He would be found, his rescuer would be found.  The kind man would be killed and Hanzo would be taken to be ransomed or tortured or ancestors only knew what. And really, he knew that would be his end.  But he felt a pang of guilt for this man who was trying to help him.  Summoning the last of his waning strength, he looked into his savior’s face imploringly. “Hide.” he gasped before the darkness claimed him.    

No ambulance?  The guy had been poisoned!  That wasn’t something Gelert could fix!  He opened his mouth to protest but got interrupted.  Tracks?  Who was ‘they?’  Questions this man was in no condition to answer right now.  Looking down into dark, imploring eyes, the blond offered his best smile.  “I’ll cover them.  Let’s get you inside first.”

With only a little exertion (the man felt like he might be made of pure muscle) Gelert got him into the apartment, setting him on the couch as gently as he could.  “Okay… stay here… and if you’ve got some sort of antidote for whatever’s in your system, you might want to take it now.”  He hoped the man had something… although maybe it wasn’t poison?  The chances were equally good it was just a drug to slow him down enough so someone could catch him.  

Still pondering the ‘who’ in all of this, he hurried back outside, shining his commlink back towards where the man had landed.  Getting down on hands and knees, Gelert began to quickly brush the gravel back into place.  He didn’t know how far behind his guest’s attackers were.  Better to not be caught out here trying to cover up evidence.  Once he was satisfied the roof looked ‘normal’ again, he stood and, careful not to leave any footprints, re-entered his apartment.

sugaraddictedarchangel​:

One of the people Gabriel most needed to, and wanted to, see, he had been avoiding since he’d come down from his mountain. He knew he would feel better once he actually saw the hound, assuming Gelert didn’t hate him for pulling his disappearing act. Again. He just couldn’t seem to make himself dig deeper into the bond they shared to actually find him. The bond which the archangel had leaned so heavily on during his self-imposed exile. The bond that kept him from feeling entirely alone, even though he’d left for the express purpose of being alone with his thoughts. He always knew that, whatever happened, Gelert was still there.

It took Gabriel longer to psych himself up for it than it did for him to actually find Gelert. He’d believed the hound when Gelert had told him that he’d always be able to find him, but he hadn’t expected it to be as easy as it was. Not even close

He probably had more guilt for disappearing on Gelert than almost anyone else. He’d made a commitment to the hound. He’d promised to be there, and Gelert had helped him in a way that probably no one else could have. He’d given Gabriel a lot more than the archangel thought he deserved. And he was afraid to face his friend again because of that.

He took one last steadying breath, then quickly teleported himself near where he felt Gelert’s presence before he could lose his nerve.

Gelert had only recently returned to New Orleans - just a few days ago, in fact.  Although he didn’t have to travel anymore, he quickly found it was a difficult urge to break.  Not being regularly on the move made him anxious.  A part of him wanted to work on easing that anxiety, but another part of him whispered that as soon as he got used to it, he’d feel his connection with Gabriel snap.  That was his biggest fear by far these days.  When the angel had vanished on him shortly after appearing in Wales, Gelert felt certain the severing of their bond couldn’t be far behind.  The fact that it still hadn’t happened confused him.  The other had left so quickly - not a word - just gone.

At first the blond had thought Gwyn might’ve had something to do with it, but he’d asked around (as carefully as he could) and no one could tell him anything about a kidnapped angel… so that meant Gabriel had left by choice.  Again.  Which was his right, of course.  He didn’t owe the hound anything.  It still hurt, of course… still worried him, but what could he do except wait?  There was death, of course.  If he were to die, he’d reappear in Gabriel’s presence no matter where the angel was.  That was how the curse worked.  But he’d been very careful to keep himself hale and hearty.  He didn’t want to upset his friend by going where he wasn’t wanted.

So he was back in the house Gabriel had gifted him with several years ago.  The last few days had been spent cleaning up dust and cobwebs, washing linens, and generally making the place livable again.  Cleaning finally finished and fresh from a hot shower, Gelert was relaxing, stomach down, on his bed, bare feet propped on the pillows.  There was soft jazz playing from a nearby radio as he munched on a PB&J and read casually through the want ads in the local paper.  A job was next on the agenda.  He’d had enough money when he got here to buy some basic necessities, but those wouldn’t last forever.  He’d need an income soon.

Kidnapped from @sugaraddictedarchangel​

Nature and the Hunt

Kidnapped from @sugaraddictedarchangel​

Like a Child Loves the Rain

leatherandsoil​:

Will heard Gelert’s soft murmur and turned back around.  “Well.” he said.  “They certainly are a bit big on you, aren’t they.”  That might be an understatement.  The pants were plenty large-likely as not they would refuse to stay on the blonde’s hips if not for the drawstring holding them up.  They were likewise long, coming well past his ankles.  The shirt was the same case; it hung off his shoulders rather like a shawl, sleeves falling past those long fingers.  Squinching his face in concentration, Will walked around and around him, tilting his head, measuring with his eyes. It was certainly not a lost cause, just a bit of work.

“May I?” he finally asked, stepping to the man’s side with an encouraging smile. “I’m just going to roll things up and pull on them a bit, but it’s good manners to ask before putting hands on someone.”  Gelert nodded, returning his smile. “Good.” Will said, taking hold of a sleeve and rolling the material back up inside itself. Just past the wrist.  Next he knelt down and rolled up the puddled pant leg.  He was doing his best to not wish that these clothes were, in fact, a bit more tailored all ready.  Gelert would look quite fetching in them, the warm brown would show off his pale skin and hair nicely, even if they were only hunting leathers and not fancy court clothes.  The blonde would look wonderful in a dark doublet and breeches and…no, no.  He would not be thinking those kinds of thoughts.  Gelert had only just arrived, and he needed a friend not a leering creep.  Over to the blonde’s other side, knee walking in front of the man so he could cuff the other pant leg.  A different length, so he could ask preferences.  Then he stood and tucked the end of the second sleeve back up, leaving it a little longer as well.   Getting to his feet, he nodded, satisfied. 

“All right Gelert.” he said, stepping over to his workbench for a marking chalk. Lighter color, so it would show up on the dark leather. “Tell me which is the most comfortable. I’ll mark it and then I’ll snug up the body of the shirt a bit.”

Gelert did his very best not to shrink in on himself as Will circled him.  This man wasn’t Gwyn!  His gaze was professional and necessary… not a precursor to anything else.  He resisted the urge to shiver.  At Will’s question, he hesitated for only a second before giving a soft nod and sharing the smile offered to him.  This was all going to be okay.  Every step that took him further from Gwyn was a step towards taking control of his life again.  

leatherandsoil​:

Well…..yes but also no.” Kelly said, doing his best to ignore that happy, pleasant sound. Not that it was bad that his houseguest was happy.  But he didn’t need to be thinking THINGS about him.  “Helping with lights would be helping plenty.  See…well…it takes some explaining.  This time of year, Christmas lights are one of my big things, next to snowplowing. I do winter lightscapes-put up lights, tree arrangements, outdoor ornaments, things like that.  Sort of stays with the yardwork and gardening, only in the snow.  Put them up for people and take them down when the holidays are over.  I do try and check them when I take them down and put them away for the year, but it doesn’t always happen.” he got up, poured himself some more orange juice, leaned on the counter.

“Same goes for the other outdoor apparatus.  If I have to repair something, it might be a job too big to do in an afternoon. Or it might be one best done outside.  But, can’t reglitter a tree if its fifteen below and snowing.  So I do maintenance stuff when it’s warmer.” Gesturing broadly, he smiled. “So yes, the actual hanging lights and decorating is just once a year.  But there’s lots more to it than that.  Believe it or not” he mused, “winter might actually be my busier season.  At least, before the holidays.  Lights to hang, things to decorate, and places to plow.  Once the lights come down, it’s just plowing snow.”  Although…now that he stopped to think about it some, that was how it worked in the warm season as well.  “Spring and summer are like that too, I guess.” He came back over to the table, sat back down.  

“Lots of work to get everything planted and put back into shape, and then just have to maintain it.”  He gestured with his bagel at the snow outside the window. “Actually…if things work out that you’re still here when it’s springtime out, could probably use help with that part of things too.”  Could definitely use help, truth be told. Oh he managed all right on his own, but just having a spotter-someone to stand back and tell him that something needed to move right or left-would save him a lot of time.  And if that someone was Leo…friendly, handsome Leo…but he was getting ahead of himself.  Maybe Leo would want to move on.  Maybe snow and Boston wasn’t his thing and he would want out soon enough.  The winters up here could be brutal, that was for sure.  Or maybe they wouldn’t get along.  Hell, he’d only known the man for half the morning.  “You are welcome to stay.” he said, putting the offer up front.  It was…hasty, yes.  But Leo was fae, of a sort, so it sure seemed like a good idea to stay away from his bad side.  He definitely did not want fairie dog mad at him. Not to mention he had hit the man (dog?  Man while dog?) with his truck.  He owed him some recompense for that.  And truth be told, he would enjoy the company, if Leo’s personality stayed true.

Gelert listened with genuine interest as Kelly went into more detail about all of the work he did.  There was so much more to it than he’d imagined!  PLenty to keep him busy… lots of ways to make himself useful to the man who’d been so kind to a dying dog.  Yeah - Kelly had accidentally been the one to put him on Death’s door… but that’s all it had been - an accident.  Kelly could've left him there to die in the snow.  The fact that the man had tried to make Gelert’s last moments better meant a lot to him.

changingthelights​:

Adrik could practically hear his mother’s voice as he read the last letter she’d sent him almost three weeks ago. She regaled him with tales of their typical family drama, updated him on his niece and nephews, and asked how he was doing with his work. Then she always finished her letters with encouraging him to come home, settle down, and find his priyatel, his destined Mate, as she had done with his father.

As a child, Adrik had loved the tales his mother weaved, in vivid detail, of a destined mate hand-selected by the gods. This rumored Mate was almost always a werebear in those tales, and they spoke of a connection to someone unlike any other. A sense of completion, a ‘click’ as if the world, which you had no idea had been tilted, righted itself into place. His mother’s favorites were ones where you encountered your priyatel at a Festival – the annual were-bear celebrations that, while open to all, focused on werebear culture and traditions. It was where she’d met his father, and the tale of their own meeting was often repeated when she was in the mood for stories.

Adrik’s favorites were of a rarer kind, the few stories that told of a priyatel not born a lycanthrope. Some didn’t believe the tales to be real, but these stories had always appealed to the hopeless romantic in Adrik’s heart.

In the end, romanticism, or the fear that being away from other werebears would make him less likely to find this destined One, could not stop Adrik’s desire to discover more of the world. Through a bit of traveling and experimenting with different professions once he was old enough, Adrik came to find he enjoyed a life at sea. It was hard, satisfying work, and on a ship like this, dedicated to freeing those enslaved, at the end of the day, not finding his priyatel’ didn’t bother Adrik too much. He was content on this ship and he enjoyed the work, and even if it wasn’t with his One, he could find a mate (and love) when he sought it. Love didn’t need to be something out of a folk tale. Adrik was comfortable, he liked the routine of the ship, and he saw no reason to change his lifestyle now.

The last thing Adrik expected, while buried in the comfortable routine of stocking up the ship one evening, was to find his priyatel clinging desperately to his arm, and staring up at him with the most gorgeous pair of eyes he’d ever seen.

At first Adrik didn’t hear what the man said. He was too caught up in the sudden sensation of the world feeling right in a way it never had before, that it took the sound of baying hounds to snap him from his daze. Then the plea that followed drew the world back into focus, and before Adrik could think a large hand pressed to the small of the man’s back and ushered him towards the ship.

He paused just before the man was out of reach, and with an easy pull Adrik tore off a portion of the man’s sleeve.

“Go on. Hide just just inside the railing, I will be up shortly,” and then he turned his back to the man and faced the dock, now in chaos as dogs and men began their search.

Adrik motioned for one of their other crew members, and after murmuring something into his ear the crew mate nodded and took the offered scrap of Gel’s shirt.

“Make haste. Weave a trail for them to follow, and see to it you’re back within the hour,” Adrik warned, and the crew member nodded before they shifted into a raven and flew off into the night.

Just then, as a few of the dogs and their handlers approached The Oracle’s section of the dock, Adrik let out a low growl. The sound was something deep and guttural, feral in a way that shook the ground as it rumbled from the center of his chest. A warning, one as ancient and old as the werebears themselves, and it was a warning that the hounds heeded instinctively, stopping them in their tracks. Adrik’s eyes darkened, his body grew in bulk and height, and his teeth lengthened as he took a threatening step towards the men.

“Whatever it is you are searching for,” he barred his elongated teeth, “it is not here.” Another step, one that sounded far heavier than it should for even a man his size, and one of the dogs whimpered. “Move along,” was all he had to say before the dogs turned, seemed to pick up a new scent, and quickly scurried away. Their handlers quickly followed, only casting a single glance back in Adrik’s direction before departing.

“Finish, quickly. We may need to leave within the hour, instead of the morning as planned,” Adrik warned the remaining crew at the dock. “Do not let anyone aboard the ship, no matter the reason.” The remaining crew nodded, and Adrik quickly walked the boarding plank to find the stranger he’d chosen to protect.

Had anyone approached Adrik in a similar fashion, Adrik probably would have reacted the same. It was their job, freeing those who were trapped, and it was as instinctual as it was natural for Adrik to want to help those in need. What set this apart was that this man was anything but just another man to Adrik, and the swirl of emotions that came from simply looking at this stranger was like nothing Adrik had ever experienced.

Adrik paused when he caught sight of this man again, hiding as instructed behind the railing, and he crouched down so he could carefully offer his hand.

“Come,” he said quietly, “I can only help so much, this is not my ship. We must speak with the Captain. He will wish to know from who you run.” Adrik couldn’t picture a reason why Typhon wouldn’t try to protect this man, as he had done so many others, but it was obvious that this man was in no ordinary situation. For such a ruckus to be caused, it made Adrik question if it might test Typhon’s willingness to help.

The fear that filled him with that thought was indescribable. Already, Adrik was imagining what he would do if Typhon said this man could not stay, and no matter how he looked at it, these thoughts were ridiculous. Was he really considering giving up his position on the ship, one he’d faithfully held for years, for a stranger? A man he’d known for all of a minute, for whom Adrik’s entire body screamed with an overwhelming urge to protect. It was almost unbearable, and Adrik had to force himself to focus on the task at hand. They still had to ask, and Typhon hadn’t said no yet. There was still a chance.

As soon as their fingers touched, a wave of something akin to electricity raced up Adrik’s arm, and he felt the hairs on the back of his arm rise. This brought a new wave of thoughts, and an ache in his chest that longed for more, and Adrik tried to recall one of his mothers tales ever describing this.

Somehow Adrik found his footing, and without releasing the man’s hand he guided him towards Typhon’s quarters. A sharp rap on the door later, and Adrik’s eyes returned to the stranger as they waited for a response.

“I am Adrik,” the werebear offered to the smaller man, with the selfish intent for the stranger to offer his name in return.

And just like that Gelert was being pushed toward the ship!  Was this really going to work?!  He jumped a little when a bit of his sleeve was torn away so effortlessly, but he kept moving forward, crouching down behind the railing as he’d been instructed.    He listened to the interaction between his savior and Gwyn’s men with wide eyes, feeling the rumble of the other’s words deep in his chest.

When the man reappeared and offered him a hand, Gelert took it without hesitation.  He felt an odd sort of warmth surge up his arm and into his chest - filling him with a sense of home and hearth.  What was this?!  There would be time to wonder later (he hoped) for now he followed closely beside the sailor, holding his hand like a lifeline.  He was afraid again.  Because he couldn’t lie about who he was running from… couldn’t put this ship at risk without their knowing.  And everyone knew the Wyld Hunt… and her captain.

His grip on the other man’s hand had become practically vice-like by the time they reached the captain’s quarters.  But oddly enough he still didn’t feel nervous or scared.  It was as if, as long as his savior stood beside him, nothing bad could happen.  A foolish feeling.  He KNEW better!  And yet, he still couldn’t shake it.

As they waited for the door to open, Gelert finally received a name.  Adrik.  He beamed.  “Gelert,” came the instant reply, all plans of using a false name thrown out the window with barely a thought.  He didn’t know why, but this man deserved his real name.  And maybe - just maybe - he wanted to hear Adrik say it.  “Thank you for helping me.  I-I owe you so much more than just my life.”  He was going to say more, but in that instant the door swung inward, to reveal a lithe man who maybe looked a little disgruntled.  And if that fresh mark on his neck was any indication, he maybe had the right to be.

distoretion​:

Summer had to hold back from raising a brow at his thoughts, his strong reluctance over leaving when he hadn’t even done it yet. What was with the six month deadline? And what was with him treating it like some inevitability when he clearly didn’t want to go? It was almost like someone was making him, but he pushed the thoughts away too fast for her to tell.

She hesitated at the suggestion, not sure yet about getting more involved with the people here. For one thing it would be awkward if she asked the owner a shit-ton of questions and then never came by again, and for another she didn’t think she could handle it if he showed up with a face full of tentacles instead of a mouth or something equally bizarre. Taking another bite of food so she didn’t have to answer right away, the flavor of it eventually won her over and she nodded. “If he’s got a minute. I’m sure he’s a busy guy, feeding all these people.”

Gelert noticed her hesitation and suddenly wondered if he was pressing Summer too much.  From what she’d told him earlier, today hadn’t been the best for her.  And now here he was - probably being way too familiar and too friendly.  There were limits, after all - even for a bartender.  Should he back off some?  He didn’t want Summer to lose out on this place if it could be helpful to her - not because of him.

The blond was still wondering how he could backtrack on his forwardness, when Summer spoke.  He couldn’t help the grin that lit up his face.  “Fantastic!  I’ll go ask him if he’s got time.  If not now, maybe later in the day.”  Then, with a bit of a hop Gelert left Summer at the counter and headed back into the kitchen.  

The Wyld Hunt had been Gelert’s home for longer than he wanted to remember.  And Gwyn, the ship’s faerie captain, had been his master.  He didn’t like to think about how those events had transpired.  Whenever memories drifted too close, the scar over his heart - and its twin on his back - began to ache uncomfortably.  The blond knew now that he’d been tricked into giving himself to the other man, but he also knew he owed the fae.  After all, when they’d met he’d been nothing more than a dog - and a dead one, at that.  But surely after centuries of servitude… of doing whatever was asked (or ordered) of him, he’d paid back that debt.

That was what Gelert told himself as he stared at the artifact he now held in his hands… the one that would finally help set him free.  He couldn’t sever his bond with the fae… but with this simple amulet, he could weaken the other’s hold.  He could go into hiding.  Not an ideal life - running eternally from an angry, sadistic faerie king… but it had to be better than the life he was subjected to now.

“Do you want it or no?” came a gruff, slightly accented, feminine voice.  “My price has not changed since last you were here.”

The price.  That was what had kept him from making a choice the first time he’d wandered into this shop nearly three months ago.  In another port town half a world away.

Gelert looked away from the amulet.  “You never did tell me how it works… your shop?”

The red-haired woman shrugged in a lackadaisical sort of way.  “I have something you need.  The shop knows this.”  She reached out to pat lovingly at a nearby door frame.  “Where you are, we go.”

He swallowed.  “And if I…”  He hesitated, searching for the right words.  “...if I ever wanted to barter again… to get back what I’d be offering you now…?”  

There was a look of curious surprise on the woman’s face.  “I suppose it’s possible.  But I won’t make you any promises.”  She hesitated, as if uncertain she should say more, and then kept speaking.  “I don’t deal in tricks, pup; I am not one of the fae.”

He looked up in fearful surprise at those words.  Did she know how much they meant to him?  Or was it chance?  

She kept talking as if she hadn’t noticed his reaction.  “What I offer isn’t just an item you want… it is one you need.  And you can offer me something I need in return.”

Gelert looked back down at the pendant in his hands.  “I take this… and you take my original form?”  They’d already discussed this, but he needed to hear it all again.  To assure himself… to prepare himself.

“That’s right.  Not your spectral dog or your human forms.  They were given by other magics I cannot touch.  All I want is your flesh-and-blood canine form.  You can still switch back and forth between the other two with ease.  And think of what you’d be gaining…”

Freedom.  No - not exactly.  Gwyn would still hunt for him, but the trinket in his hands would make it near impossible for the fae to use magic to find him.  He gripped the necklace firmly, steeling his resolve.  The idea of giving up his true form - a part of his very being - scared Gelert.  But the witch was right - he needed to escape.  If he didn’t Gwyn would carve his soul into slivers.  Instead of losing a part of himself, Gelert would lose himself completely.  He HAD to do this!  “Alright.  You have a deal.”

The witch nodded, her expression solemn rather than gleeful.  She understood, and he was grateful for that.  “Put the necklace on and our bargain is made.”

Gelert unclasped the chain, settled it around his neck, and then let the clasp go.  The effect was instantaneous.  He suddenly felt… bereft.  A soft sob escaped his throat, and the woman reached out to him.  “I know…. But the feeling will fade with time.  Now… it won’t take long for your master to realize what’s transpired.  If it were me… I think I’d find another ship.  But if you’ve had your fill of such things, caravans come in and out of port towns frequently enough.  They’re often looking for hired hands…”  

At first, he could only nod in reply.  The sensation of loss was overwhelming.  How could he feel so heavy and so empty all at the same time?  But she was right… as soon as Gwyn understood what had happened, they’d start hunting.  The amulet would prevent him being found by magical means, but not normal ones.  He should’ve thought this out… had a better plan!  But it was too late now.  He needed to leave.  The caravan sounded appealing at first.  But as the woman had said, they traveled to port towns.  The chances of running into The Wyld Hunt and its crew was high.  Whereas on another ship - far out in the vast oceans - it seemed less likely.  And if they ever came to port and found The Wyld Hunt was docked, he could always just opt out of shore leave.  Yes.  That seemed best.  But what if he were ever found?  What would Gwyn do to his companions…?  

Gelert looked up to ask the woman if it was too late to change his mind… to wait.  But she was gone, and the shop he stood in was empty, dusty and full of cobwebs.  Heart sinking, Gelert made an uncertain choice, winding his way through back alleys towards the harbor.  He’d almost reached the docks when he heard the howls.  So soon?!  He needed somewhere to hide!  But where would be best?  A crowd of people…?  Or a deep dark back alley somewhere…?  As he tried to think, the clack of claws on pavement stone grew in his ears.  No!  He couldn’t be caught so soon!  Not after he’d given up so much.

Bolting through back streets, he finally reached the harbor.  The town was small, and there were only five boats anchored and tied.  At the far end of the boat line he could see activity on The Wyld Hunt, hear angry shouts and the howls of more hounds.  Surely they wouldn’t look for him so close to ‘home.’  He hoped.  In front of him another ship was loading supplies, working by lantern and torchlight.  Not unusual in Gel’s mind.  The Wyld Hunt often did the same.  Would they help him?  Did he dare ask…?

And just like that the decision was made for him.  Crewmen with dogs were swarming the dock, going in all directions!  He was going to be found!  In a panic, Gelert darted up to the nearest crew member, grasping desperately at a muscled, tattooed arm.  “Please, please help me!  Those men with the dogs… they’re looking for me.  I-I haven’t done anything wrong, I swear!  I just want to be free!”  Gelert looked up… and then looked up a little more into a gruff, but handsome face.  His heart clenched in fear, certain a man like this wouldn’t… but then he met and held the other’s eyes.  And even before the crewman spoke, something he saw there told him it was all going to be okay.

Gelert’s apartment was small… and a little cramped, but it had been hard to find a cheap place to stay in this city… it was getting harder everywhere.  And it really wasn’t so bad.  He even had direct access to the roof!  Actually… he kind of suspected this was some sort of converted maintenance room.  But he didn’t mind that either.  It had central heat and air, and a shower he didn’t bump his head getting in and out of bed.  Things could always be worse.  Actually… things HAD been worse.

He was just drifting off to sleep while contemplating where to start looking for work when he hard an odd sort of THUMP! Th-thump, th-thump…  And then silence. The blond thought about all of the things that could possibly make that sound this high up in the air… and came up with none.  Well - nothing that made sense, anyway.  With a sigh, Gelert crawled from his bed, made sure his drawstring pants were pulled tight, and then opened the door leading onto the poorly-lit roof.  Grabbing his comm device, he flicked it on and allowed the glow of the screen to illuminate his path.

Wandering in the general direction of the sound, Gelert eventually happened across… skid marks in the gravel?  Those were distinctive patterns of footprints!  Shoes that had struck the graveled roof hard… and then skittered and rolled... to wind up…  His light finally settled on the form of what looked to be a man crumpled into a corner.

“Where the hell did you come from?”  He hadn’t meant to speak, the words just sort of came out.  There was no response and the breathing seemed shallow.  Too shallow.  And was that a sheen of sweat on the man’s brow?  Gelert had been alive long enough to recognize symptoms of toxin - come to think of it, he’d even been killed by them a time or two.  Knowing he needed to act fast, the blond moved forward, speaking softly as he went.  “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I want to help.  I’m going to carry you inside, and then call an ambulance.  If you can speak, now’s the time to tell me as much as you can about what happened to you.”

Then, without waiting for permission, Gelert knelt down and scooped the other into his arms.  He was heavier than he looked!  But now that the man was pressed against him, he could see (and feel) that it was all muscle - hard and lean. “It’s not far,” he reassured.  “I promise not to drop you… but all bets might be off if you start squirming.”  The last part was said as a bit of a joke.  He had no intention of letting go until they were both back safe in his apartment.

Oh. Oh no. Now Gelert was crying, and the helplessness Adrik felt only increased. Was the pain worsening? What should he do? Was this a part of the spell? Should he be concerned? Would finding Typhon and asking him to help the after effects risk blowing his cover? What was-

Adrik’s expression did not change as his thoughts raced through his mind, and his expression did not change when they silenced as soon as Gelert started to speak. 

The werebear wasn’t sure what he expected to hear from Gelert, but it wasn’t what followed, and Adrik felt something angry start to stir at the pit of his stomach at Gelert’s words. What horrors had this man faced that made him say something like that? Adrik knew these types of slavery rings were without morals or regulations but…

“I am not like the others,” Adrik assured the other with a soft rumble, and the hand on Gelert’s neck gave a gentle squeeze. “I promise you, Gelert, I am not like the others,” he wanted to elaborate more, but not this was not the place, or time. “Patience,” he whispered with promise, and large, firm hands slipped under Gelert’s arms. 

“Can you stand?” Adrik asked, and he moved to help Gelert to his feet if he was ready. “I would much like to leave this place.”

Not like the others…  Those words repeated over and over in Gelert’s mind as he felt the other man’s gentle hands on him.  He wanted to believe that… SO badly!  Truthfully, a small part of him already did.  This man had already offered him more kindness in a few moments than all of his other Masters put together.  It had to mean something… didn’t it?

Gelert allowed his new Master to help him to his feet, knees trembling only slightly as he stood.  Was this really happening?!  He’d been through so much since the king of the Tylwyth Teg had first cursed him.  Was it possible that things were finally changing…?  The blond closed his eyes and sucked in a slow breath, breathing in and out carefully to help clear his head.  For now, he would take this man at face value.

Wiping at his eyes, Gelert nodded.  “It’s probably a good idea.  I - I can’t imagine Typhon gave me up willingly.”  Yes the curse tried to account for that, but there were ways to make an unwilling person willing; he’d seen it before.  Another slow breath as he took a risk and met his new Master’s gaze.  “Which means, he’s probably trying to figure out a way to get me back.  So, the sooner we’re somewhere else, the better for both of us.”