bakerstreet | The Slave Auction Meme

The Slave Auction Meme

â§ Leave a comment with the character's name, fandom, and whether your character will be playing the part of 'slave' or 'master', plus preferences for scenarios if you have any.
â§ Respond to others with one of the scenarios below or feel free to make up your own.
â§ Please remember to be respectful of others while you play

Warning: Be aware that this meme deals with dark subjects like slavery and may also contain non-consensual/dubiously consensual sex, violence, and kink.

SLAVES

1. The Newbie - This is your very first auction and you don't quite know what to expect. Hopefully you remember your training and don't disgrace yourself in front of your new master. Hopefully someone thinks you're worth buying at all.

2. The Oldtimer - You've been bought and sold and bought again so many times. You've seen it all before and don't think this time is going to be much different. In fact, the only real anxiety you've got is whether or not someone's going to pay for a more than slightly used slave.

3. The Pet - You're a pleasure slave. A bed warmer. A decorative piece of artwork. You're meant to look pretty and be pleasing and not much else.

4. The Guard - Your master hired you because of your ability to swing a sword or shoot a gun, not your looks.

5. The Escape Artist - Somehow you always manage to squirm out of your master's chains. Too bad you seem to get caught after a while. Maybe your next daring escape will be permanent. Then again, maybe your next master has special ways of keeping you locked up.

6. The Undercover - You aren't a slave at all, you're just pretending to be one. Why? Well that's up to you. Either way, your cover is blown if you don't act the part.

7. The Specialist - You have a skill that no one else has. Something rare and valuable. Something your master needs more than anything else.

MASTERS

1. The Customer - You've owned slaves before and this trip to the market is nothing new to you. Still, you're hoping to find something worth your while.

2. The Gift - Someone bought a pet for you, isn't that nice of them? Or maybe it isn't so nice. Did you even want a slave in the first place? Well you're stuck with one now.

3. The Giver - You're selecting a slave for someone else, and they need to be perfect. Perhaps you'd better test them out first to make sure you're getting your money's worth.

4. The Trainer - You specialize in taming unruly slaves and making them over into perfect, obedient, well-trained pets.

5. The Rebel - You hate the idea of slavery, but the system isn't going to go away any time soon, so the next best thing is to buy up any slave you can get your hands on and free them, right?

6. The Companion - You want someone to be with you always, someone you can talk to and depend on, someone who will never leave your side. It's a good thing that money can buy that these days.

7. The Undercover - You're not actually a Master. You're at the auction for an entirely different reason. Maybe it's special policework, maybe you're trying to hunt down a certain someone. Either way, your cover is blown unless you act the part.

As always, feel free to use a combination of scenarios or make up your own if you have other ideas.

Snagged from here.

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When Keelan comes, the sight of it is enough to reawaken some faint pulses of arousal within Fae. He's rarely the sentimental type, but the look of sheer pleasure and fulfillment on Keelan's face makes his chest swell. How long has it been, really? Since he's gotten to do this in a completely enjoyable, completely consensual manner? He's spent so long fighting for his pleasure, deconstructing sex to nothing but the feeling of a nameless cock inside him, that he'd nearly forgotten what it is like to simply want someone, and have them want you back.

Then Keelan calls him a savage again, and Fae blinks before chuckling along with him. "And you're caught in its teeth," he jokes, playfully biting at the meat of Keelan's thigh beside his head.

If they had the time, he'd start pushing for another round, a chance to feel Keelan inside him, too. It seems like Keelan is as cocky as Fae is, and Fae would never admit it out loud, but he likes the ones who can match him the most - who can get him to shut up.

Right now though, Fae's humor slips rather quickly. He hasn't forgotten their exchange, and his grip loosens some, allowing Keelan to slide down until only his hips are resting against Fae's, and Fae is crawling over him. "I'm serious, y'know." He knows Keelan agreed, but no one's exactly thinking straight with a dick up their ass. His eyes hold Keelan's, a pink bang slipping past his cheek as he leans forward. "About running."

The light post-sex moment filled with joking and banter helps to remind Keelan what being normal felt like, too. Not only was it refreshing, but it helped to make him smile like he had before his nightmare started.

"I know." Keelan said, certain of his answer. He didn't know Fae well - who could say they did, being in each others company for the short length of time they had - but something in him knew that he was an honorable man. Something told him that it wasn't a lie, because there was no reason to lie. So far, their time spent in each others company had been honest. Keelan had no interest in breaking or betraying that. "This room has been my prison for three years. If you'll take me with you, I'll go, but leaving won't be easy with the guards around."

His hands slid along Fae's sides, tracing muscle gently, until he abandoned it to brush pink hair away from the other man's eyes. "When we leave, we can take what we can carry from this room to sell for money, most of it's expensive silk or gold so master could bolster the price for me. But if it's all the same to you, I'd love to keep the oils. We're probably going to need them." He finishes off with a wink, smile turning more cheeky.

When Keelan's fingers brush his skin in such an affectionate gesture, Fae stiffens. Outside the heat of sex, the touch might as well be foreign to him in its pointless simplicity. He swallows and catches Keelan's hand, lowering it as he tries to smirk through his discomfort. "That better be a promise," he chuckles.

But then, he's swallowing, eyes lidding in thought. "No one's ever come with me."

Or is it more that Fae has never bothered to take anyone with him? He supposes both of those answers contain merit. He's met very few who are as bold and reckless with their own lives as he is, but he's also only kept his own interest as a priority. People can hold you back, worrying about someone makes you weaker for yourself, it's much more difficult to have to consider someone else's life than to simply rip through decisions with just your own on the line.

Keelan said honorable, but he doesn't know. He has no idea what kind of person Fae becomes in a situation where his humanity will only drag him down and keep him front what he wants. Savage is right. Savage is perfect. He doesn't want to subject Keelan to that kind of life or to how cruel he can truly be, but he also can't leave him behind. Not when Fae can see the hunger for freedom slowly beginning to burn in the golden depths of Keelan's eyes. He knows that hunger too well, and he'd do anything to satiate it.

"Not gonna lie, I'd be kinda worried about you slowin' me down." Fae laughs, shaking his head as he looks around the room, impressed by how much more Keelan has considered than him. "But it's been like five minutes and you've already thought harder about this than I have. So maybe you're not so hopeless."

There's more to it than brute force after all, that's just where Fae's strengths lie. He's strong and he's clever, but Keelan seems to have the practicalities covered already, which is something Fae wouldn't have thought about until he had to.

He feels like he should warn Keelan again, tell him that once you run, you don't stop running. It's a life of constantly looking over your shoulder, never finding another home because you can't afford to stay in one place for too long. Never trusting. Never sleeping the same.

But he won't disrespect him by telling him any of that. Keelan has had the same experiences Fae has - Keelan knows what he's getting into. He's choosing it.

With that in mind, Fae leans in, reaching an arm out for Keelan's forgotten robes as he smirks down at him. There's a dark seriousness to his tone that contrasts the ease of his expression. "You're in this now, then." He pulls the robe over Keelan's face and then stands, moving towards his own clothes. "Get what we need, Keelan."

It would be hard to miss Fae stiffening, but the gesture of lowering his hand is as blatant as a candle's light piercing the night. Keelan didn't know what bothered the other man about that, but he took the hint enough. After sex had been forced on him for so long, he understood the necessity for boundaries and not breaching them.

"I still owe you." Keelan winked, his hand pulling back to lightly swat at Fae's ass. "And I have a feeling I'll owe you a lot more in the future."

Not just sex, he was sure of that.

Thinking of freedom and being free were different, he knew. The struggle would only just begin when they crossed the threshold of his room, into the hallway. He knew they would never stop running, but part of him wanted to never settle again. To never have to get used to being used for someone's whims again, let alone be locked in a gilded cage. But that part of him also knew that if he were caught the likelihood his punishment was castration was high. That said nothing of what his master would do to Fae, the instigator. They were both taking a huge risk here, both putting themselves in danger. There were things he would have to do to keep them both safe, so his humanity was at just as much of a risk.

But where Fae thought there was weakness in numbers, Keelan thought there was strength. One pair of eyes could only look in one direction at a time, while two could watch each others back and make sure no one got the drop on them. Or, at least, had a harder time doing so.

Keelan peeled the robe from his face and stood when Fae moved, the spark of life inside of him igniting even more. He wrapped the robe around himself and moved to the basin, cleaning his own mess off himself quickly, then tying the robe together. It was one of the few garments he owned, any other clothes kept with his master in the event he played escort.

"I hate to tell you this, but you haven't seen me fight yet. I'm probably still hopeless." Because he'd been trained to take a hit, not dodge one. It would take work and time to rewrite that.

Once he was done, he set about rummaging through the room, collecting the oils and anything of worth that was small and placed it in the middle of the bed. When it looked sufficient, Keelan pulled up the silk bed covering - a flimsy sheet - and bundled it into as small a package as he could. "Did you have a plan for escape?"

The playfulness alleviates some of the tension that had knotted in Fae's shoulders. Though he certainly has intentions to hold Keelan to his word later, he's glad their focus has shifted to the matter at hand.

A plan.

"Somethin' like that." Fae snorts, lets his gaze linger on Keelan as the man starts gathering various oils and ornaments from around the room. Again he's taken by how sure the other is, he feels a light flush color his cheeks at the thought that he could have inspired that and rubs the back of his hand against his cheek as if to wipe it away. "Call it more of a gamble than a plan," he says, going for his clothes. His shirt is a lost cause since it was thoroughly ripped, but he does tie his pants after a quick wash at the basin."I'm pretty confident about my odds against those meatheads if I've got an advantage, though."

He gave them enough trouble earlier, to the point they had to restrain him. If he has surprise on his side, he's sure can take one down and at least cripple the other. They're strong, but the brief confrontation they had was enough for him to deduce that they lack skill in a fight - they focus too much on overpowering, hence why they're not separated.

"You a good liar?" Fae asks but his attention is on the various "training" tools littering the walls of the room. "I need you to draw them in here," his fingers are tracing over flogs and leather straps until eventually settling on a decently thick chain, which he plucks off the wall, "make em' think I'm dead weight they gotta drag out." He tests the weight of the chain, the length of it, before seeming to decide it'll do and unclips the collar it's attached it, tossing it aside. His preferred weapon is a dagger or two, but he can work with this. "They might get suspicious - there wasn't a lot of noise going on in here." Turning his attention back to Keelan, Fae approaches him while wrapping the chain around his fist, realizes vaguely he has to tip his head up because the other has a couple of inches on him. "Not the kind they wanted to hear anyway." He chuckles, eyes flicking between Keelan and the bundle he's managed to procure for them. Despite his issues with touching, Fae brings his free hand up to curl his fingers behind Keelan's neck, forcing his head down a bit so their eyes meet. "Just get them close," Fae tells him, his brow furrowed and eyes determined, as if trying to express a silent promise to Keelan: I won't fail you. "Leave the rest to me."

His hand slips away as he leaves, moves closer to the door and turns his back on it before kneeling on the carpet. He makes to lie on his side, so his front will be hidden from view when the two enter, but before he's positioned he looks to Keelan and mouths, "Ready?"

Edited (oMG i POSTED FROM THE WRONG JOURNALflksd;a fuckng hell ignore that i'M DUMB) 2016-10-07 03:52 (UTC)

When Fae calls their escape a gamble, it was Keelan's turn to stiffen up. A spark of panic darkens the hope and rebellion that ignited since Fae was thrown into his room, threatening immediately to extinguish it all together. Gambling was what got Keelan enslaved in the first place and he knew his odds were never good. It made him the easy target for someone like Zeke to take advantage of, and he didn't want to drag Fae down with his poor luck.

Everything before that word had been solid in his mind, too. He was willing to take all the necessary risks, willing to put his life in the other man's hands so they could escape.

The fact that Fae reassured him without ever voicing that he suddenly felt fear was something that almost made him laugh. He allowed himself to be drawn in by that silent promise. To breath and feel the solidity of fingers against the back of his neck. Also to allow himself to realize that that gamble of a plan wasn't a terrible one. That helped.

He swallowed, focusing on answering the question before him. "I never was before, but being here for as long as I have trains you to do a great many things."

Like push aside his fears and live in the moment.

It took Keelan a moment to gather himself before he nodded his readiness and moved to the door, pounding on it loudly to get the guards attention. When it opened, he stared up at the two men, more fat than muscle, and started his act.

"Get this--" His features shifted to frustration, body tensing like he was angry. "thing out of here. It passed out already! I can't train someone who's too weak to handle what the master wants of him."

The two bulky men moved in, one after the other, to check on Fae and for a moment the tension in Keelan's body was real. That fear was coming back as he moved out of the way, eyes darting toward the bed to where the bundle still lay. It wouldn't take much for him to reach out and grab it, but it also wouldn't take much for the two brutish men to realize the dependency either.

Part of him was glad that they were paid for their brawn and not their brain, when they ignored Keelan entirely and leaned down to check on Fae.

Fae's heart picks up with a pulse of adrenaline as thick fingers circle his arm. His body hangs when they heft him up, pink bangs shadowing his eyes as the second man comes closer and grunts with disinterest.

"Didn't sound like-"

That's as far as he gets.

As soon as he's close enough, Fae's body suddenly tenses and he's using the momentum of the grip on his arm to swing his chained fist directly into the second man's face. The force of it is staggering, all the more so because the sound of his fist rending through a thin layer of flesh and into the hard bone beneath only lasts a moment, but it's enough to land the grunt his side - hollering - cradling the bloody side of his face that's nearly been crushed.

Fae doesn't waste any time. While the second one is struggling through the burst of pain in his face, the chain whips free from Fae's fingers until he clutches only the end of it and then drops his weight to the side, forcing the man that's still got a hold on him to stumble. In his panic, he throws a fist, but Fae swiftly avoids it and spins on his heel, throwing the chain about the man's neck and grabbing onto both ends from behind him. He lets him hit the floor and jams his foot into his back to keep him from pushing up. He nearly topples when the other still manages to twist and grip his ankle but the quick work of Fae's fingers loops the chain around again and yanks.

The man slides towards him a few inches, thick folds of fat bleeding over the constriction as Fae applies more pressure, sneering as the man's face begins to darken in color, as he slaps and grapples at Fae's legs and wheezes for air.

"Don't worry," Fae breathes, smirking wildly, "I haven't forgotten about you."

His words are directed to the second man coming up behind him, who's stealth might have been effective were it not for his bull-like presence and labored, furious breathing. Fae keeps the chain ends wrapped around his fist to hold the pressure as he sidesteps another strike and elbows the man in the face with little effort. The blood in his eyes makes his movements sloppy, purely driven by a literal blind rage, so Fae easily drives a knee into his stomach, knocks the wind out of him and drops him to his hands so Fae can ram his knee in a second time - to his face.

One man's eyes are bulging from his purple face, rivulets of blood leaking from where the chain's cut into his skin, and the other is barely recognizable beyond the mangled, bloody mess that his head has become.

Fae's done well about dodging them but he can't exactly keep this up - his knuckles are bleeding and there's a dull throb in his knee that's he's certain will flare up once the adrenaline dies down.

Quickly, he drops into a crouch, palming the chained man's clothes until his fingers slip into a pocket and come out with a key. He'd sigh in relief if he had the time but for the moment his only concern is escape - they've made too much noise, their window is probably closing much more rapidly now.

He abandons them both, snatches the makeshift sack Keelan had made off the bed as the first man gasps and struggles for air, tearing the chain from his throat.

Fae ignores him completely, shoving Keelan out the door before slamming it shut behind them and jamming the key into the lock, seconds before a violent banging erupts from behind it.

"FUCKING GARBAGE!" One of the men is screaming, infuriated. "WE'LL KILL YOU!"

Fae glowers. "Not easily."

He throws the sack over his shoulder and starts tugging at Keelan with a sharp urgency. "You know the way, right? Let's go - now, now!"

Didn't sound like-- had Keelan's heart racing faster than the initial fear of their escape being a gamble. It was acknowledgement of this being a rouse. Were they already doomed? Would they be caught? Could they really make their escape?

A million more questions surged through his mind, even as Fae sprang to life and started overtaking both guards. It rooted him, unable to tear his golden eyes away from the action in front of him. For more than one reason.

Watching Fae was almost mesmerizing. He moved so fluidly and easily that he wanted to take his comment back earlier about having done a horrible job at keeping himself from being captured. Right now, it was obvious how much it must have taken to subdue him. Even though he'd gotten the drop on the two guards, he was handling them in a way that made it look effortless. He imagined that there must have been more, a circle of men tasked with taking a single person down, and to Keelan that was admirable. It was also inspiring, his fear sliding back into the depths where it came. Around someone like Fae, he knew he would be safe and was being shown as much. The problem laid with Keelan being the weak link, but with such an inspirational display before him and a willingness to never come back, he would do everything in his own power to hold himself up and not rely so heavily on the beautiful, savage man currently fighting to free them both.

He hadn't known his hands were balled into fists of his own until Fae was done, grabbing both their bundle and tugging him into motion. It didn't take much to get him to move along, his feet heavy and hesitant for only the first couple of steps. Then, once they were over the threshold of his door it was easier.

"This way!" He called, taking the lead. Keelan had only been out of his room a small number of times, but he remembered the path like it was marked on the inside of his eyelids. It was hard not to remember a path out, when you dreamed about one day finally walking to freedom. It was also hard not to remember the path, since any time he'd seen it, it lead him to some of his most rough nights in Zeke's service, catering to whole parties of perverse men who wanted a piece of him.

A shiver of recollection ran through him as he shifted to run down hallways and stairs, guiding them to the only exit he knew. Only to find that it was locked, Keelan throwing his weight against it with a frustrated cry when the door wouldn't budge.

"This is the only way I know!" He growled, jerking the handle with a rough tug, as if brute force alone would make the door move.

That's not good.

"Shit," Fae doesn't even bother to try pulling at the door himself, he's already looking for other options. There isn't enough time to go searching for another exit, Fae was too frustrated when he was first brought in to focus on his surroundings or mark exits. He usually has more time in the environment to plan for things like this but their decision to run together happened so quickly, he was putting his bets on Keelan's knowledge of the layout - if this was the only way Keelan knew, then this was the only option they had.

If he had the right tools, a locked door would only be small hurdle, but aside from their thin clothes and the silk sack of oils and ornaments in his hand, he doesn't have anything to work with. He walks away from Keelan briefly, touching nearby walls and decorative pieces - anything that might spark an idea. His fingers brush over a vase - he could break it, make shards sharp enough to stab in a fight - but that idea is quickly thrown out. That would draw attention to their location in an instant and who knows how many grunts would be sent, he's already injured and he's not built for drawn-out fights, he wouldn't be able to protect Keelan and himself.

Fae curses again as he comes back, chewing his lip in thought as he prepares to tell Keelan they may have to look elsewhere, dodging corners and prowling guards as best they can. That's as good as suicide in their condition but Fae isn't the type to give up until he's exhausted every possible option he has.

Then his gaze catches on a glint in Keelan's hair, and his mouth parts in surprise.

There, tucked into the band holding Keelan's hair are two gold pins embedded with small jewels. It's nothing but decoration, clearly, but at that moment Fae might as well have been handed a set of keys.

"Keelan!" He covers his mouth - he's smiling - he said the name a bit too loud in his excitement and he tries to smother the sparks of hope he feels before lowering his fingers. "You shithead," he laughs, as if Keelan had been keeping a secret from him, but the man looks confused when Fae reaches to pluck out the pins in his hair. "I told you you're not useless."

After passing the sack to Keelan, Fae crouches in front of the door, sticking one pin in the corner of his mouth while wriggling the other into the lock. "I can open it, but I need a little time." He's glad he's turned away from Keelan because when he starts working the pick, his knuckles scream in protest and he winces sharply, a bead of sweat running down his cheek. It's definitely fractured, but he doesn't have time to think about that right now. He talks to Keelan as he works, but his eyes stay entirely on the task in front of him - narrowed and focused. "You're gonna have to look out for us as best you can - just a few minutes. I promise."

While Fae went looking for anything to work with, Keelan stayed with the door. After he was done with trying to force it open to no avail, his frustration and rage that it wouldn't budge having no outlet, he thought of the windows. Keelan was sure that even the windows here had bars on them, or he would look for something to throw through them for escape. Zeke kept his slaves in an iron clad prison, albeit sometimes a nice looking one. But he knew that was to keep them complacent. To keep them from escape because they could have it worse elsewhere under a different owner.

He was already ready to give up, seeing nothing they could use to get out. Having no escape after all. Keelan knew his luck would infect Fae and he was immediately sorry to have doomed them both. He was even ready to apologize when Fae returned, his mouth open to speak. But he was cut off by the smile, confusion following.

What was there to even smile about? They wouldn't be making their escape after all.

Soon, it was obvious and he let a sigh sweep through him, almost forcing him to sag for a moment when the pins were taken from his hair. He knew immediately what they would be used for, and drew back to give Fae space to work on the lock.

"I refuse to take credit for that," He laughed softly, steps silent as he moved toward the hall. "But even still, remind me later that I owe you a proper thanks anyway. For everything."

Keelan kept his eyes on the hall, trusting Fae to do his work. After a long minute, he heard the lumbering men before he saw them, their wheezing and threats loud enough. In that moment, he didn't know how long it would take for Fae to finish unlocking the door or if he was almost done. But there was something that flashed through his mind that terrified him.

Despite only just coming to know the pink haired man, if it came down to it... Keelan would throw himself at their mercy to save the other man and make sure at least one of them escaped. No matter what it did to himself.

"I don't think we have much time," Came his loud whisper, hoping the guards wouldn't hear him but Fae would. "How much longer before you're finished?"

Fae's jaw clenches in frustration - he'd be done already, but his hand is giving him trouble, his joints are throbbing and his fingers are shaking when he needs them to be as precise as possible. The stress tinting Keelan's voice tells him they're not alone though, and so instead of answering, Fae exhales sharply to keep his composure, keep his hands steady and ignores the pain pounding against his movements as he carefully tilts one of the pins up.

It clicks.

Though his heart skips in excitement, there's no time for celebrating. Fae pushes the door open, clutches the pins in his bloody hand and grabs at Keelan with the other.

They come out into a large foyer and the exit is right there, separated only by a single, velvet-lined staircase. But the men Keelan saw can't be but seconds behind them and Fae isn't confident about their speed - for all he knows the door waiting for them just a few feet beyond that last step could be locked as well. Fae never doubts his instincts, and right now his gut is only screaming one word at him:

Hide, hide, hide!

He yanks Keelan away from the stairs, their feet pressing into the lush maroon carpeting of an extended hallway as Fae whisks them by barred windows spilling shafts of moonlight over several doors. He won't open any of them. There's a chance one of them might be a decent hideaway - a closet, a linen room - but there's just as much a chance they'll walk in on something they haven't been invited to, and Fae's got his reckless luck but he knows where the line meets stupidity.

What he stops at is a thick curtain that's drawn across one of the windows. It stands out a bit because not many are covered, but it's mundane enough not to be suspicious. He pulls it aside and his nose scrunches at one issue.

Standing room only.

If they both try to fit behind it, something will definitely look out of place. Without thinking much beyond that, Fae pushes Keelan flat against the window and looks at him sternly, amber eyes narrowed and serious. "Don't move," he tells him, raises a bloody finger to his own lips in a second order to keep silent, and then lets the curtain swish back into place between them.

He keeps moving, grateful for the darkness and color of the carpeting that's eating the blood spots he knows he's left behind. He can hear the men's voices echoing throughout the foyer - but the door was open, one complains.

Fae doesn't know how long it will be until they can move freely, their goal is so close, but he needs to find his own dark space to sink into until it's safe to make a break for it.

What he finds more troubling though, is the thought that Keelan might slip up. Not out of any clumsiness or fear, but because he might begin to worry Fae will leave him behind, and choose to fall into his master's graces to lessen his own punishment.

Fae doesn't want to think this way, but he does, because he knows in any other situation that's exactly what he would do - leave and not look back, no matter who he's left on the ground behind him. Keelan would be right to think that way about him, a world where everyone is self-interested is much easier to predict, much easier to control. Fae has always thought this way.

But as he hears those voices rise in volume, slowly invading the space around him, Fae finds himself hoping that Keelan will trust him, at least through this. He doesn't know why he cares that much, maybe because they're so similar, and Keelan deserves his freedom just as much as Fae does. But Fae suspects it also has a bit to do with how quickly and easily Keelan put faith in him - even if it ends up being misguided, Fae can't bring himself to break something that he spent no effort to draw out, that was so honestly given to him.

He won't.

In a swift beat, Keelan pushed himself as he was pulled toward the newly opened doorway. He took a moment to scoop the silk bundle into his arms and crush it to his chest so that the contents didn't rattle and give them away any more than their footsteps did. A burst of eager energy overtakes him, his skin buzzing with the excitement that freedom was truly on their horizon. Then, he can see the last staircase they would have to descend to be rid of this wretched place, but he was pulled away from it before he could clearly see the landing.

For a moment anger blazes it's way through his veins, wanting to pull Fae back toward the door. Why did they already come so far, only to hide now? But he knows already, he should remain calm. They were running on Fae's luck and Fae's instinct to pull them through this, not Keelan's. That's the reason he allows himself to be pressed to behind the curtains of a window, silently nodding that he understood.

But the thing that had him worried wasn't Fae leaving him behind. The other man had already gone through enough trouble that to do so now would be ridiculous. Unless he had always been the distraction or the lookout. But even that didn't make sense, if he was being hidden first.

No, the thing that worried him was the blood he saw dripping from Fae's knuckles. Everything had been so fast, he hadn't the time to notice that he'd been hurt or at what point the wound occurred. He knew then that hiding had been the best option for their escape, to keep from Fae suffering more damage. But for how long? The house was only so big. There were only so many places that they could hide before one or both of them were caught.

Sacrifice was on his mind, but not for the reason that Fae thought and only if he had to. It was a last ditch effort.

As his mind raced, Keelan heard heavy steps move through the hallway toward himself. They were so obviously not the steps of someone small, and he knew it was one of the hulking guards.

Keelan closed his eyes, breathing silenced as best he could to keep calm. He listened. Waited. stayed motionless just waiting for the guard to pass. It seemed an eternity, and it was so crystal clear the guard had no intention of moving any time soon. Not when he heard a hiss and the slap of hand on the wall.

"God damn pink haired freak. I'm going to kill him when I get my hands on him!" The man said around the clog of whatever was probably keeping his broken nose from dripping along the carpet.

He smiled, knowing that wouldn't be an easy task.

"You found 'em yet?" The other guard called, his footsteps falling into step behind the other. The heavy clap of a meaty hand resounded as the second guard pushed into the first. "Quit standin' around or Zeke'll have our heads instead!"

"Fuck you, I'm tryin' not to die here!"

"Do that on your own time. I'm not interested in the crack of a whip just because you're a pussy who can't take a broken nose."

"Sod off. He damn near killed killed you too, or did you forget that chain around your neck so soon?"

The second guard grunted, shoving the first. "Move your ass. Unlike you, I'm gonna follow through on my threat to kill the bastard, and I can only do it if we catch 'em."

"Yeah yeah."

Then, they finally moved. For Keelan's part, he'd stayed motionless. Fearless as he just concentrated on breathing and hoping neither of them got their hands on Fae.

By the time Fae comes to the end of the hallway, he still hasn't found anywhere that he can hide, but the path does curve into another staircase leading down to the first floor. There's a pause where he looks over his shoulder, debating whether he should go back for Keelan before descending, but the arguing voices of the guards looming closer push him to abandon the thought and quickly hurry down the stairs on his own.

At the bottom, his feet pad onto the cool linoleum floor of a kitchen, moonlight gleaming silver over various pots and other utensils scattered about. One glint in particular that catches his attention is a set of knives hanging on a far wall. Fae is immediately stalking towards it, tucking the pins through a fold in his pants to hold them as he takes one of the larger knives from its perch. The close of his knuckles around the handle earns a wince and so he switches hands, tossing the knife lightly so it turns in the air before catching it again. It's not his dominant hand, but the weight of a weapon makes him feel better regardless.

He's about to search for anything else he can use when the sound of a door opening freezes him. His heart jumps into his throat, pounding with adrenaline, until he realizes it wasn't the kitchen door that opened - it was the front entrance.

"Boss!"

Fae stiffens, his grip tightening around the knife as he hurries to the swaying kitchen door. He pushes it without making a sound, just enough to peek out, and finds two men stepping into the foyer from outside before being met by the guards who were tailing him and Keelan, rushing down the main stairs towards the new arrivals.

Good, he thinks briefly, they didn't find Keelan.

One of the men wears an expression like he's being forced to look upon something offensive. He's slim but not delicate-looking, there's clearly muscle beneath his suit and with his hair slicked back, there's a confidence in his eyes that pierces through the two men bumbling towards him.

Fae remembers him - he was the one at the auction who raised his card.

So that's big boss, huh?

Again, Fae's fingers squeeze around the knife's handle. He's taller with a tad more brawn than Fae but nothing to be scared of on a one-on-one. He could kill him - right now. It would be so easy. What gives Fae pause isn't his injuries, it isn't even the disadvantage of the guards being there with him - it's the hulking mammoth Zeke walked in with. Fae doesn't know who he is but he's easily twice Fae's size, with a stern face and thick hands he can't imagine are not always balled into fists like that, ready to fight.

Even in peak condition, Fae would have trouble with him. Fae's strong but his fighting prowess relies mostly on skill, speed, and luck - he's not built for brute force, nor drawn-out fights. Cleverness will only get him so far. There's no way he can get to Zeke with that monster to deal with first.

Frustrated, he simply watches and listens to the exchange.

"What do you two think you're doing?" Zeke glances over the man with the mangled face. "Something I should be concerned about?"

The man quickly covers his nose. "N-no..."

A raised brow, and the man's partner steps in, nonchalantly clicking his tongue, yet somehow seeming equally as nervous.

"The new one got a good hit on him while we were bringin' 'im back, that's all."

"I just got distracted!"

"Well, I'm not paying you to be distracted and certainly not to get blood on my carpet. I didn't think you could possibly be any more disgusting to look at, but I suppose I've been known to be wrong on occasion. Clean up."

"Fucking..." The man glowers, obviously offended, but then turns away with a low, "Yes, sir."

Fae's shoulders lose a bit of tension as one of the men leaves the room. He watches as Zeke raises his hands and lowers his gaze to them, pulling at the fingertips of a satin glove as he speaks to the guard that's been left behind.

"Has my prettiest pet finished with my latest investment then? This is the only reason I can think to excuse you being away from your post."

"He..."

Fae's heart pounds, uncertain if the guard will spill everything about their escape.

"He passed out - the new one."

Oh?

Fae snorts. Apparently these men are so terrified of their employer, they're willing to gamble on finding the two slaves before Zeke finds out they even escaped in the first place.

The man is clearly sweating bullets, but for his part, Zeke seems almost too composed at the information.

"...Pity." He smoothly pulls his glove from his hand and starts working on the second one. "After such a spirited display following his purchase, I expected a bit more in terms of entertainment. If he's truly reached his limit already, then I'd like to hear the details from his trainer's lips - not yours. Bruce," he turns his head to the hulking man behind him, "bring me Keelan."

"NO!" The smaller guard nearly jumps forward, and the movement is enough to cause alarm to skitter across Zeke's face before falling to a sharp suspicion. The guard holds his hands out as he explains, attempting to hide how flustered he is behind a veil of confidence, "I mean, Boss, I'll get 'im. Bruce gets him nervous, don't he? He's in a good mood after breakin' the other one, maybe he'd be easier to talk to if I bring 'im, yeah?"

Zeke's eyes narrow as his second glove comes off - a motion that's much sharper than the removal of the first one. "That's unusually perceptive of you, Maurice, but you have a point. Though I can't imagine why, it is rare to catch him in good spirits." He folds both gloves and passes them to Bruce without looking away from Maurice. "Bring him to my office. Bruce, once Maurice has retrieved Keelan, see what you can do with the pink one. I'm doubtful he could be so used up already." The sharp edge in his voice smooths out with his next words, lips curling into a small smirk, "As determined to obey his orders as Keelan might be, he is a sweet thing and can be easily fooled by cunning opponents."

He should know.

Bruce nods in understanding, and Fae's eyes widen as all three men proceed up the stairs. He peels out from the kitchen, gaze darting towards the door.

He can leave. Right now.

But...

Again his determination falters as temptation baits him. Fae's eyes flick towards the staircase, to the door, and the staircase again, his knuckles burning white from his grip on the knife's handle.

[LONG TAG i hope i didn't murder Zeke's character lmao...anyway I have a thought for Keelan's pov! he probably doesn't know Fae is downstairs, he can only hear Zeke and everyone talking, so maybe when someone approaches the curtain (it's Fae ofc) he thinks it's Zeke? if this were animated the cut between Fae deciding whether or not to leave on his own and Keelan not knowing who's about to rip the curtain back would be very dramatic uou!]

Edited 2016-10-09 21:08 (UTC)

Behind the curtain, Keelan's breathing was even. He moved into the same calm state of mind and body he tended to move into when something unpleasant was happening. It kept him from panicking, and usually kept him from focusing on pain. This time, there was no pain to keep at bay. Just the overwhelming dread that one or both of them would be captured.

He had overcome the guards, listening to their conversation. There was even a spark of triumph at having done so. Now he waited, on the verge of impatience but never crossing, for Fae to come back for him and them to finish their escape.

Then, there was one word that pierced through the almost deafening silence the guards left in their wake. Boss.

Keelan's eyes opened wide, shock and fear twisting his expression. His loose grip on the bundle in his arms tightened, the slightest noise of shifting trinkets catching his own ears. Fear even made his knees slacken, and had his back not been pressed to the barred window behind himself, he may have fallen to his knees. Determination and the cold, rough metal digging into his back kept him upright, though his hope was dwindling by the second with Zeke in the building.

How had he forgotten about Zeke?

Keelan had known there was a very real possibility that his master was around. That if they were caught they would have to deal with the bastard. Hell, he had even known that if he had to sacrifice himself Zeke would be there to dole out the punishment with cruel glee. But for whatever reason, he had thought of the man in such a distant manner that to know he was within reach was terrifying. What was worse, was that he heard another name, his mind instantly flashing to the hulking man mercilessly ramming his cock into Keelan's ass, sobs being ripped from between his gagged mouth with each thrust. Zeke and Bruce. They were both there. It had a lump of dread winding its way through Keelan's core, threatening to make the rest of his body as cold as a block of ice.

Despite that, he strained to hear what was going on. What the guards were saying. Fortunately his better judgement kept him in his hiding spot as he listened, his heart hammering in his chest. All he could hear was the distant murmur of talking. Only a sparse few clear words in the bunch.

One thing was for sure, though. There was no outburst from his master. No sudden declaration that his guards were useless and if they didn't find either slave running free, they were dead. That served to quell some of his nerves, but not all of them. Especially as he soon heard footsteps once again, each mingling to make it sound more as if there were a herd of men, and not a small handful.

How much longer could he hide behind the curtain? How much before he was discovered and punished?

Could Keelan even bear being back in that room again, knowing that he was almost free? That all it would have taken was to find Fae and be faster than anything chasing them. To run further so they weren't caught. He could bear the life of a runner, but he couldn't face another day in that room. Not without a purpose.

That was the truth of it all.

His mind was so fixated on the doom, that he hadn't heard footsteps coming his way. He hadn't realized how close they were to him and there was no way of telling who it was. Whether it was Fae or Zeke himself. The later of the two being the cleverest in the bunch downstairs, and the only one who would have thought to look behind the curtain. Had he been caught?

His body tensed, hand balling into a fist as the curtain pulled back so rapidly he didn't have time to think, let alone recognize who was on the other side. Fist already flying, he couldn't pull back even if he wanted to, landing squarely on the other man as he let instinct guide him.

[ obviously I liked that idea lol. I just hope Fae doesn't mind being punched... ]

Fae staggers back from surprise more than anything else, the knife nearly slipping from his grasp. There's not a lot of power behind the hit, but it's enough that his cheek is left throbbing, that he feels the warm run of blood touch his lip. He straightens himself a bit and his fingers smear just beneath his nose, golden eyes narrowing in confusion when they come back tipped with red. "Nice to see you, too," he murmurs, and then, suddenly, he chuckles. It's soft at first, but grows into genuine, surprised laughter, his gaze flicking up to Keelan. "I'll be honest - I didn't think you had it in you." He wipes his nose, brows furrowed but he's grinning, "Shit if that didn't stop you from gettin' it out of me, though."

Maybe he should be more angry, but he has a feeling he knows who that punch was meant for, and the thought makes him smile with a sliver of pride.

Also, he might deserve it, for the choice he'd nearly made mere moments ago.

Not wanting to waste their miraculous opportunity on jokes or pointless apologies, Fae grabs at Keelan's hand and pulls him from the window. "Tighten your fist a little more next time," he tells him easily, as if they aren't bolting back down the hallway and then the central staircase - literal steps from their goal.

First, shock spears through him, the light of recognition in his gaze once he saw it wasn't Zeke pulling the curtain back. Second, pain blooms vibrant in his hand, which he snapped back with a hiss. He shook his hand, like fanning it would make the ache go away.

It didn't.

"You should have warned me it was you," Keelan chastized, a little aggrivated despite Fae's laughter. It was good to hear, though. Instead of the deafaning silence and the sounds of heavy footsteps surely looking for them still. Or the rush of blood in his ears from the overwhelming fear of being caught.

His aggrivation melted the more he heard that laugh turn light, leaving him to sigh and flex his fingers, brows furrowed. A simple punch that did so little shouldn't have stung so much. How was he ever going to watch Fae's back, being as weak as he was? How could he ever fend off Zeke - or god forbid, Bruce - with how he was now?

One thing was for certain, though. Keelan wasn't going to apologize for trying to defend himself against someone that might have been an attacker. That had been a small triumph in itself, alongside trusting Fae to to take him and escape together. To apologize would ruin any sense of personal strength he'd gotten in the mere hours they'd known each other.

Soon, their feet were rapidly running down the stairs and once again Keelan pushed himself fast. He threw himself against the door at first, one hand cradling the bundle he still carried, the other tearing from Fae's grip to grab at the handle. A swift twist and a jerk, and--

"It's open!" He threw the door open wide, a cascade of moonlight falling on his face and for the briefest of moments he looked up to see the night's sky without bars for the first time in a long while. A smile slid across his features, and this time it was him grabbing Fae, pulling him out the door and down the dirt road to their freedom. Away from Zeke. Away from captivity. Away from pain and solitude.

They were free.

No matter how many times he feels it, the sudden rush of cool night air against his face will never get old to Fae. He shouldn't need to give reasons for wanting this, for why he has the right to feel and enjoy the same simple pleasures that anyone else does, but it's nice to have such a gentle reminder. You've done it. You're out again. This is where you belong.

Ah, but this time-

A light squeeze around his fingers not only reminds him that he isn't alone, but also that his his fingers should not be squeezed right now. Pain shreds through his hand and in the moment he bristles, his brow shiny with sweat, blood dripping from their clasped hands - and yet he lets a rare, true smile brighten his face as he turns to Keelan. "I told you," he laughs, and pulls their bloody hands up betweeen them, "don't underestimate me in a shitty situation."

He's burning to ask how Keelan feels. Fae remembers the trill of his first escape in crisp, vivid detail. Terror stitched through hope and exhilaration. It's an addictive feeling, one that Fae's very existence has become almost entirely focused on chasing. He wonders if Keelan regrets anything now that he's outside, or if the triumph of coming this far has only stoked the fire Fae set alight inside of him.

Still, despite their success, they aren't quite out of trouble yet. So Fae holds off questions in favor of pulling them further away from the estate. Even if those idiot guards have managed to keep up their ruse until now, he's certain they won't be out-thinking someone like Zeke for long. It's only a matter of time until he realizes what he's lost.

Or rather, what's been taken.

Being so late at night, the city is sparse - no crowd to disappear in - but they do have the advantage of darkness. He doesn't imagine Keelan knows the streets of Hightown particularly well, but luckily for them, Fae's past made certain he knew every crook and crevice intimately well. He dips them expertly in and out of alleyways, around the hot spill of lamplight and through the thick cover of shadows - a world he's all too familiar with.

The ease of his movements might seem suspicious to Keelan, but Fae hopes he'll attribute it to the fact that he's succeed in escape before. Getting too deep into his past can get messy, and he has no reason to allow the other man in that far regardless.

At the moment though, Keelan is his concern, as well as finding someplace safe so he can recover from his injuries. He has an idea in mind that he's guiding them towards, one that becomes sharply obvious when they enter the red light district and Fae is pulling them towards a building draped with rose-embroidered tapestries.

The Blooming Rose.

Hightown's brothel.

"I know people here," Fae explains, though he isn't looking at Keelan, too busy keeping his eyes out for bystanders as he trails along the side of the building, towards a back entrance. "They'll help," he does look back now, to tap Keelan's silk bag, "but they'll probably want something in return."

The ground is anything but even as they run, dirt sliding between his toes and sharp pebbles and rocks jabbing into his delicate feet. More than once he hissed in his pain, but the feeling that could happen in the first place while he was running away exhilarated him.

And the fact that Fae took the lead didn't surprise him. There was something about the pink haired man that told Keelan he wasn't always a slave, that misfortune had found him in such a position in the first place. Otherwise he probably wouldn't still have that savagery and strong will to take his freedom back for himself. That will had been beaten out of most slaves he met, including himself. For someone who had a broken will, it was satisfying enough to still be alive the next day. Keelan couldn't say he wasn't glad that Fae had been captured, though. It lead to his own freedom, and now that he was out he would do whatever it took to stay that way. He would likely stay by Fae's side as well, both in his debt and because he was grateful and didn't want to see him captured again.

But even still, he wasn't as unfamiliar with Hightown as it may seem. Sure, things had changed in the time he was locked in that room, but things could only change so much. Some buildings were easier to pick out than others - like the ones he'd been inside under Zeke's 'employment' - while others seemed more benign like the betting houses and taverns.

None of them made him want to stop running. Or let go of Fae's hand, the strength of knowing he wasn't alone making it easier not to throw rocks into windows on their way past.

The embroidered tapestry he knew, but it was something of a shock when they went toward the back entrance. Fortunately, any confusion he had was eased without having to ask.

"The silks are off limits," He said, holding his bundle. "At least until we get further out of town. It would be safer for the people you know, and for our wherabouts, if they weren't parading around in the things we stole."

Not that he was entirely enthusiastic about hiding in a brothel, but there was a bitter amusement in the fact that Zeke probably wouldn't think to look in a whorehouse for his escaped whores. It was likely the safest place they could be without leaving town immediately. That allowed him to step back, Fae taking the lead once again and the back entrance giving way with some prompting.

Loud boisterous voices and laughter carried through the doorway behind a tall, bucksome woman that Keelan couldn't make out her face in the dark.

"Oi what do ya-- FAE?!"

"Leona," Fae throws back, not sparing a moment for her surprise. "I'm lookin' for Cynthia."

Leona raises one arm against the doorframe, looking past Faerin to the slightly taller man trailing behind him. "Cynthia ain't gonna be pleased 'bout you comin' in th'back way."

"Last I heard, the back way's fair game if you can pay enough to come in."

She snorts, a grin cutting between her red lips before she waves her hand in a yeah, yeah manner and tells them to wait.

Fae exhales, keenly aware now of the way his knee and his hand are pulsing for attention. He's not sure where they can go if this doesn't work, but now isn't the time to think like that. He'll make it work.

Less than minutes later, another woman is blocking the doorway. Just like Leona, she looks a sneeze away from popping out of her dress, but with her grey-streaked hair piled neatly atop her head and all the jewelry hanging from her ears and wrapped around her throat, she gives off an air of higher authority. "Well, well," her blood-red lips stretch into an amused smile, "look who's stopped by for a visit after two years. None of your friends around to frighten off my patrons this time?" She cast a dubious glance to Keelan, and Fae is quick to step in front of him.

"Nice to see you too, Cynthia. You're looking much more haggish than usual. New wrinkles?" He smirks, eyes sliding off the side. "I'm surprised you could fit more in there."

"Charming as ever." Not bothered by his rudeness, Cynthia again allows her gaze to fall to Keelan, though this time they unabashedly rake him over. "And who's this?"

"He's off limits," Fae snaps, not appreciating the calculating look in her eyes. He didn't free Keelan just to have an old hag think she could put him under her thumb next. "We need a room."

"My rooms aren't for hiding."

"'Course not," Fae reaches down to his pants and rips out the jeweled pins he'd pierced through them earlier, "they're for fucking the gold right out of men's pockets, yeah?" He holds them out to her, golden eyes scrunched a bit over his grin. "Let us in and skip a step."

"Hm..." Cynthia's own eyes narrow, her arms folding over her chest as she seems to consider his proposal, but then suddenly snatches the pins out of his palm. "It'll do for now - friendly discount. But I'll be looking for more if you're planning to stay longer." She steps aside, opening the door further to allow them through. "You and off-limits can get yourselves washed upstairs."

To say that Keelan was aghast by Fae and Cynthia's exchange was probably putting it mildly. His mouth fell open, eyes wide. How could two people talk to each other like this and still remain amicable? Though he was fairly glad that Fae stepped in front of him, because the woman's look was nothing short of appraising and he knew that look. He didn't want to fall into her grasp any more than Fae did, but he was also no stranger to using his body as currency either. Fortunately, there was a small bag of trinkets to run through before he would have to resort to his former profession.

For his part, he stayed silent while they exchanged hands and words. This was Fae's friend(?) and he wasn't sure if his speaking would help or hurt, and he definitely didn't want to undermine what was going on. So, he followed Fae and Cynthia inside the brothel.

The first thing that hit Keelan's senses was the sickeningly sweet smell of perfume and incense to mask the musk of sex. It was a familiar scent that had him wrinkling his nose as he followed Fae upstairs. The first open door they found, they ducked into.

The second thing he noticed, was how quiet things were once they got into the room and closed the door. He could just barely make out the murmured sounds of merriment downstairs. The rooms were insulated well for discrete privacy. And looking around, it wasn't at all similar to his own. His had looked more like a torture chamber that someone slept in. Yes, the bed was big and cushy, the silks fine, and pillows fluffy, but it had been obvious what people went to his room for. This new space looked more like a bedroom and it had a calming effect on Keelan.

He now knew that they were as safe as could be, despite the mournful feeling of being indoors again after so long. The fact that he knew they could walk out of the building of their own free will was... satisfying.

Setting his small bundle on a chair, he moved to the window and peeked out into the night. The streets looked less ominous now than they had, and there were no familiar figures chasing them. It allowed him to smile, the light hitting his eyes as he turned toward Fae.

"Thank you," Keelan said smoothly. But upon seeing Fae, there laid a problem. Now they were in proper light and he wasn't following his pink haired savior, he saw just how badly injured he really was. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you look like hell. Sit down."

Keelan moved to a small basin and picked the pitcher up, dropping some water into the bowl. After a moment, he rang a piece of cloth out and moved toward the other man, taking his hand and dabbing the cloth over his busted knuckles as gently as he could. "But I do mean it. Thank you."

Keelan says sit but Fae is already far ahead of him, flopping onto the bed and inhaling deeply as he smothers his face into the silk sheets. He does look like hell, he feels like hell, his body is sore and his knuckles are throbbing but aside from the actual discomfort of it he can't say he minds the pain. It's a good kind of hurt. The kind that makes you feel like you've accomplished something.

Keelan thanks him, and the first time, Fae pretends not to hear. Not because he doesn't appreciate the acknowledgement, but he's just...not sure how to respond. You're welcome feels awkward, even just sitting behind his lips. He doesn't feel like he should be thanked for doing something that anyone should have done, especially when once or twice he might have considered leaving the other man behind.

Keelan didn't need to feel indebted to him. Fae just helped him take back what was already his to begin with.

Rolling onto his back, Fae lifts his hand over his face. He tries to flex his fingers and winces when his muscles sharply protest the movement. The chain really did a number on him - it's definitely fractured - but bashing that meathead's face in was worth it. His knee pulses in agreement.

The bed suddenly dips with Keelan's weight, pulling Fae's attention. He takes his hand and Fae flinches as he presses a cool cloth to his sore knuckles. Then he thanks him. Again. He can't ignore it this time. Warmth colors Fae's cheeks, both from the earnest gratitude and the gentle treatment. He swallows. "Yeah..." It's all he can think to say, and then he's turning his face away and tugging his hand - lightly, not nearly enough to rip it from Keelan's. "You don't need to do that, y'know," he mumbles.

"I don't," Keelan agreed, smiling at Fae. Before tonight, smiles were rare. Yet in the other man's presence it seemed hard not to. Where his life had been bleak and colorless before, now it was vivid and bright. Fae gave him that just by warming a part of Keelan that hadn't been touched in a long time. Just by amusing him and setting him free. "but I want to."

His grip is firm enough not to let Fae's hand go, continuing to dab at the man's knuckles to clean them. Fae's knuckles already looked red and angry, pulling the smile from Keelan's lips. The more intelligent part of him knew that after that fight in his old room, it would be hard to escape without any scratches. But the part of him that disliked violence wished that kind of sacrifice hadn't needed to be made in order to free them.

On a whim, he leaned down to brush his lips lightly against the injury in a gentle kiss. As if to apologize, perhaps.

"You freed me and injured yourself in the process, at least let me take care of your wounds." Keelan leg then swung over to straddle Fae's waist, his ass coming to rest in the other man's lap and hands on either side of his head. Leaning down, he smirked. "Besides, I believe I owe you and I'm willing to pay up once I know you won't bleed all over the place."

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https://i.imgur.com/mhEpJqi.png i got this 4 them wHEEZE

OMG THAT'S BEAUTIFUL also I hope you're staying safe!

i'm so glad u like it _(┐「ε:)_ ❤ also action is fun but it take me 90 year to write lol

I do! I also like the tag, but it's nicer to know you're okay haha. Stupid matthew

1/2 matthew was such a joke i'll tell u bout it when i can hop on Discord (but ty for worrying ;; )

2/2 IMPROVISES

where'd the key go? lmao

LOL I THOUGHT!! maybe it was only for his room but this is fine omg Keelan..he'd fight 4 him

he would!! they've developed a quick bond haha

the tension t h i c c

but oh so delicious

mind? he's impressed (¬‿¬)

he'll be more impressed later when they make it to safety ^_~

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