#FIRST CHAPTER BABEY

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Total $hit$how: An Array of Unanswered Questions

in which Kaius maybe embraces friendship a little bit

cw: referenced/fear of torture, manhandling

previous // masterlist // next

×~×~×

The air was thick with the promise of rain when Kaius stepped out of the compound. Ruebin trailed a few steps behind, his usual uncertainty plain on his face. They hadn't exchanged many words since receiving their assignment; Ruebin spent the rest of the evening in his room with the door closed, and Kaius had taken the opportunity to pore over the files they'd already acquired.

Vic's sudden decision to drop Finley didn't surprise him. Their handler had seemed opposed to the idea of speaking with her from the start. Investigation of the supposed drop-site, however, seemed as though it would be just as fruitless. Was Vic just trying to keep them occupied while the others worked on more crucial tasks? Perhaps. 

A sleek black car with darkened windows, identical to the vehicle that had brought him here, pulled up within a few minutes of their exit, and Kaius climbed inside, Ruebin once again trailing behind. The other man's nerves were palpable. He hoped they wouldn't interfere with their task. It would already be difficult enough as it was. The odds of running into Finley's customers and gleaning anything from them were minimal, and the site itself would likely be barren. With all his distaste for wasting another day, Vic certainly seemed intent on a wild goose chase.

Unless he had some ulterior motive; another thing that would not surprise Kaius. He knew very little about Vic. Normally, he'd expect as much from an employer—it wasn't as if he cared what the other man got up to after business hours—but lately it seemed ignorance was a dangerous game. The man was an enigma, leaving little to be picked up on, even with careful observance. 

A few things could be gathered. Vic was in his fifties, and had been in this game for decades. Desensitized to violence, lacking empathy, dangerous. He seemed to report to a federal or governmental agency on some level, as suggested by the drivers and nondescript vehicles he had at his disposal, but Kaius didn't know if he was an asset or merely an errand boy, paid off to do the bidding of those in power.

If the latter was the case, he remained perplexed as to why Vic would delegate the task to them. He'd made it abundantly clear that he outshone their skills and experience in this area, and even if they held certain skills he did not possess, the gap didn't seem large enough to warrant hiring proxies. He'd spent time, money, and energy on getting them to the minimum level of preparation required for the mission when he could've already enacted it himself. Something wasn't adding up, but Kaius couldn't figure out what. 

Vic had saved them, or so he said, but he didn't do such a thing from the goodness of his heart. It was a simple exchanging of favors. He hadn't heard the circumstances that brought the others into the compound, but Kaius had been in hot water, pursued by a pair of strangers, cornered, saved at the last minute. His rescuer had acted on Vic's orders, delivering him from a fate he didn't want to dwell on and right into Vic’s hands. His freedom for the elimination of a threat. It seemed fair.

But how far would their handler go to see this mission completed the way he wanted?

Kaius was content to sit and think on everything for the duration of the car ride, but beside him, Ruebin seemed twitchy and nervous. Hardly optimal. He didn't want to deal with the man's anxieties on top of watching for danger and effectively searching the scene. Better to nip it in the bud.

“You seem on edge,” he said in a low voice, and Ruebin’s eyes darted to meet his.

“Yeah,” he said. “I just… the drop site. Seems like the scary one, y'know?”

Kaius raised an eyebrow. “The scary one?”

Ruebin gestured vaguely. “Crime drop-site? What if we run into a criminal?”

“Are you not a criminal?”

“I am, but I'm not dangerous. Vic outright said Finley’s customers are dangerous. I’d just… I wish he would've picked you and Jericho. Or you and Joy.”

“Anyone other than you,” Kaius mused. It seemed a pointless thing to wish for when they were already en route.

“Anyone bigger than me,” Ruebin said. “What will we do if we run into trouble? I mean, you’ve seen me fight. I can’t do anything.”

“I’ll plan an escape route once we arrive,” Kaius said. “If we come across trouble, we run.”

“Okay,” Ruebin said, not sounding entirely convinced. He rubbed his forehead. “Fuck, jail is almost sounding like the preferred alternative.”

Kaius huffed. “Do you honestly believe that?” Ruebin had been a thief before he was picked up. Didn't his whole job revolve around risk and reward? Why couldn't he apply the same principles here?

Ruebin's shoulders slumped. “I mean… not really, I guess. I just don't wanna get jumped or something. And I don't have the best feeling about this.”

Neither did Kaius, but he elected to keep that to himself. Someone needed to be the voice of reason.

Ruebin continued. “I just… I don't think I'm cut out for something like this. This isn't stealing from some too-rich dipshit. This is real.”

Kaius sighed, pressing his back into the leather seat. “And what you did before, was that not real?”

The other man shrugged. “You know what I mean “

“I don't.”

“Well…” He blew out a puff of air, pushing a wave of thick black hair over his shoulder. “I guess it always felt more like a game? Well, mostly. There were other days, days where it got real, but those weren’t exactly frequent.” He fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “We just had our task. One job, no bigger picture. No ‘thousands of people will die if you fail’, y'know?”

Kaius wanted to point out that it was a possibility, not a certainty, but he got the feeling it wasn't what Ruebin wanted to hear. Instead, he nodded. Pressure. It made sense.

“I don't think I'm ready for that to be on me,” Ruebin said. “Not for this job, and definitely not for the whole thing. I think… I think you all could do this without me.”

Was that what this was? Not cowardice, but feeling useless? Kaius knew Ruebin wasn't the boldest of the group, but a life of crime required some degree of bravado. The man hadn't run from the task Vic had given them in the labyrinth, but he had seemed somewhat dejected after the fact.

“Do you not think your skills are adequate?” Kaius asked. “Necessary?”

“I’m a lockpick,” Ruebin said with a short laugh. “I’m a couple steps above a street magician. We’re a dime a dozen.”

Maybe that was it. “Regardless of how common your skillset is, it will be needed here,” he countered. “You’re a thief. I’m an investigator. Right now, we need to pull critical information from a delicate location. Both our talents are required.” 

“Yeah,” Ruebin said, not quite sounding convinced. Kaius tried again.

“I know your record isn’t spotless, seeing as you’ve wound up here, but you avoided being caught up until this point, did you not?”

Ruebin shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, I guess I did, but—”

“Then you’re essential here,” Kaius said, leaving no room in his tone for argument. “Your chosen lifestyle has given you an edge when it comes to escaping notice and fleeing the scene. If we do wish to avoid trouble, we’ll need your instincts to make it happen. Do you agree?”

Ruebin’s expression was twitchy, his face flushing a few shades brighter, as if from a sunburn. “I mean— I, yeah. Yeah, guess so.” He rubbed his neck “Jeez, alright.”

His eyes were on the carpeted floor of the car, but there was a slight smile on his face. Despite knowing the argument was necessary for Ruebin’s confidence, and therefore necessary for today's mission, Kaius felt an odd pleasantness at the sight of it.

Perhaps it was the familiar satisfaction that came with winning an argument. Perhaps not

After approximately an hour and a half of driving, the car came to a stop, and the driver gestured for them to get out. Kaius obliged, Ruebin on his heels. They were parked adjacent to a moneylender, on a street with an unfamiliar name. The driver, silent up until this point, rolled down her window and extended a gloved hand towards Kaius. There was something in her palm; a little metal capsule, silver buttons shielded by a clear plastic lid.

“What's this?” he asked, taking it from her.

“A way to tell me you're done,” the driver replied. 

“You're not staying?” Ruebin squeaked, clearly not enthused with the idea of being left there alone.

“It's policy,” she replied simply. It seemed sensible. If there was a risk of interception, it was better to have as few people involved as possible.

“Is the site nearby?” Kaius asked.

“I don't know about any site. This is where I was told to go.” 

Before he could ask any further questions, she rolled the window up. Kaius tried to keep himself from scowling. He understood the mission specifics were likely revealed on a need-to-know basis, but that didn't make the exchange less aggravating.

So it was on them to find the exact location. Fortunately, Kaius had been the one to identify its existence in the first place, and had a vague idea of where it would be. He watched the car pull away, feeling Ruebin deflate beside him as it disappeared into the sunrise.

“Let's move,” he said. “Keep your eyes sharp.”

“Sharp.” His voice lacked enthusiasm. “Got it.”

The sun wasn't quite high enough to light up the block, and the surrounding buildings were painted in a blue wash. Scanning the area, Kaius saw no one out and about, but given that these streets seemed to be made up of businesses and it was just shy of seven in the morning, he wasn't overly surprised. Kaius led the way, searching for anything familiar from what he'd read. Within a quarter of an hour, he’d found it: A wide gap between a bar and a bodega, more of a loading area for a semi truck than the usual alleyway. A sensible spot; if Finley met her customers at night they could easily be taken for bar patrons. It still made little sense why they were there. At this hour, the bar was closed, so it wasn't even as if Kaius could question the staff.

Pointless. But if Vic wanted a futile search, that was what he'd get. He gestured towards the open area.

“There,” he said. “This was the listed location.”

Ruebin nodded, taking in the blank pavement ahead; plain brick walls with smatterings of graffiti here and there, a singular rubbish bin sitting against the bar’s exterior.

It would be a quick search. Kaius directed Ruebin to the bodega side, not wanting the man to get his fishnets in a twist combing over the bin, and began scouring his own area. He fell into step rather quickly, beginning a methodical search for anything that seemed out of place. Useless as their task may be, it felt almost relaxing to get back into groundwork. Relying on his senses to find details others had missed, applying the tiniest clues to the bigger picture.

Just a few more days, and he could go back to work; moving in solitude, solving small mysteries or collecting information. It meant working long days, constantly looking over his shoulder, but Kaius could never get enough. Once a question was posed, he had to find its answer. If unsolvable, he had to find out why.

Much like the question of Vic. His mannerisms and motivations could boil down to personality and lifestyle, but Kaius couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. He knew he should put it to rest and focus on the mission ahead, but his thoughts kept trailing back to it.

It doesn't matter, he tried to tell himself. In a matter of days, you'll be gone, and you'll never see him again. Or the rest of them.

The thought wasn't as neutral as Kaius had imagined it would be. He found himself wondering what the others would do with their own freedoms. Would they return to their individual crimes? Jericho had a family, he knew. Did Harbor? Ruebin?

He knelt beside the rubbish bin, checking its exterior for tampering.

It wasn't as if he were going to do anything about it if they didn't. They were all adults with their own lives, and a few scant weeks wouldn't change that. Kaius would certainly be fine. He enjoyed being alone. Still, as irritating as the rest of the group could be at times, he had to admit it was nice not being lonely. 

After a handful of minutes, Kaius was satisfied with his own search. He cast a glance back at Ruebin, and found him standing still, eyes on the bodega’s wall. Kaius frowned. What was he doing? Attempting to read the jagged scrawl of some vandal?

“Hey, Kaius? What exactly did the thing you read say? About this spot?”

“Not much,” Kaius replied. “A vague description and some coordinates.”

“Nothing about like… a secret cubby or anything?”

His frown deepened. “What?” In two strides, he was at Ruebin's side, staring in the same spot. After a moment, he spotted it; a clear seam cutting through the bricks.

Odd. He certainly hadn't expected a physical drop site, much less something so concealed. 

“Good eye,” he murmured, stepping closer to the wall and tracing the seam with his eyes. The area it surrounded was quite small, only amounting to two bricks, stacked directly on top of each other. Easily missed if you weren't looking for it. Perhaps there was something useful to be found here after all.

Kaius reached for it, hesitating when he remembered he didn't have any gloves. Damn it. Lacking a better option, he tugged the sleeve of his jumper over his fingertips. The brick would likely snag the material, but it was better than nothing.

“Keep watch,” he said to Ruebin as he dug his knit-covered fingers into the seam and worked the cover off. A little upwards force, and the brick panel slid right into his hands, allowing Kaius to peer into the gap.

At a glance, it seemed empty. No papers or boxes. Then, his eyes landed on the thin wire, running through the upper corner of the compartment and down to a small metallic shape. He squinted at it, and the object flashed green. Slowly, his gaze dropped to the panel in his hands.

There was a sensor there.

“Damn it,” he whispered through clenched teeth, slipping the brick panel back into place as quick as he could.

“What's wrong?” Ruebin asked, but Kaius shook his head, rolling his sleeves back.

“It's monitored.”

“What?”

“They know someone's been here.”

Ruebin's eyes widened. “Oh shit. Shit… they'll take some time to get here, won't they? We have time to run?”

“Some.” Kaius scanned the street ahead. “There. Cafe. Let's get breakfast.”

Ruebin gave a too-sharp nod. “Right. Hiding. Blending in.”

“Walk, don't run,” Kaius said. “Try not to look like you've done anything wrong.” To his surprise, an expression of friendly ease crossed Ruebin's face. Just like that. His disbelief must've shown, because the look quickly changed to a frown.

“What? Too calm?”

Kaius blinked. “No. No, it's perfect. Carry on.” 

Side by side, they strolled through the alley, casual as Kaius could muster. It was still early morning, and the streets ahead were still empty. Both a good and a bad sign; no one to see them and grow suspicious, but no witnesses either. 

“I've heard this spot makes a mean macchiato,” Ruebin said, and Kaius turned his head abruptly to look at him, his brows drawing down. Ruebin sighed as he did, seemingly exasperated.

“What?” he whispered. “Do you want me calm or not?”

Kaius faced forward again, rubbing his eyes. “We're not… I didn't realize you were an actor.”

“Maybe you should take some classes. You're tense.”

“I'm not—” Kaius froze mid sentence at the sound of an engine. Behind them. Framing it as stretching his neck, he cast a glance back and saw a van pulling around the corner. White. Well-used, no front license plate.

“Kaius—”

“Keep walking.”

Ruebin let out a nervous sound, but obeyed, his steps falling a little quicker.

“We’ll be fine,” Kaius assured him under his breath, though his own heart was thumping. That could be a lie. The two of them stood out in the empty streets; the only plausible culprits. He scanned the block ahead, spotting two possible paths down alleys too narrow to fit a van.

“Between the cafe and the comic shop,” he murmured. “As soon as we hit the sidewalk, dash for the alley and lose them. Just stay with me. We'll be—”

The engine behind them suddenly let out a roar, pealing forward, hooking at the end of the alley to cut them off. The rear door slid open, and Kaius locked eyes with a tall figure in a hockey mask.

“Fuck!” Ruebin yelped.

“Run!” Kaius snapped.

The alley met the road not three meters ahead. The van took up most of the path, but there was a two meter gap on either side. He could see the silhouette of the driver, and no one else. One person at the ready for chasing them, not prepared to pursue two targets.

“Left,” Kaius said, giving Ruebin a shove. “Take the path. I'll find you.” Thankfully, Ruebin was quick to respond, breaking out into a sprint towards the rear of the vehicle as Kaius made a break for the front.

It had the intended effect, stopping the masked figure short as they decided which target to run after. The heavy footfall on his tail told Kaius he was the lucky pick. He did not slow. He'd run for his life enough times to be rather good at it, and if he could only make it to the next alley—

The van cut him off, and Kaius stopped short to avoid impacting its side. He nearly tripped over himself trying to change directions, but the masked figure was on him, crushing him in a bearhug. It took a split second to accept that his arms were pinned and he'd need to find another avenue of escape. He kicked his legs, driving his heel upwards to try and catch his captor in the groin, but the figure barely stumbled at the contact, letting out a curse. The door slid open, and he was flung into the cab. The masked figure wrestled his arms behind him, and someone else, also masked, darted forward to zip tie his wrists. The door was already slamming closed, the van already pealing away. 

Kaius clenched his jaw, trying to get a look around. Battered interior, smelled like old chips, seats taken out to make the rear compartment flat and open—

Before he could take in much more, a bag was thrown over his head and cinched tight.

Damn it all.

“Fuckin’ hell this one's quick,” a masculine voice complained, breathless. He could assume this was his pursuer. Loud voice, English accent with a lilt bordering on cockney. 

“What about the other one?” his companion replied. American. Smooth voice, annoyed.

“Only need one, eh?”

Despite the hood obscuring his vision, Kaius squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe deeply. Focus. He was caught, there was no changing that. The next step was to anticipate what exactly they wanted with him, decide how much he was willing to comply, and search for a way out.

There were three assailants in the vehicle with him, unless a fourth was making an effort to hide. With the ski masks and battered van, he could assume they were thugs for hire, lacking organization and proper funding. But who had hired them? The supposed drop site had been a come-along, but was it meant to target anyone who came looking for Finley, or only Vic? In the case of the former, he could perhaps talk his way out. He had no quarrel with the woman, no desire to steal her customers or blackmail her. On the other hand, if they were targeting Vic, he could be in trouble. What if they were with Rotorworx?

His mind went to the video, Sahota's brush with the Rotorworx hires, and he suppressed a shudder. It wasn't like that, was it? Would they torture him in an effort to reach Vic or uncover the team's plot? He wouldn't do well maintaining silence; he needed to brew up a convincing lie. Damn it, unless he was meant to be used as bait. Screaming for the camera in an effort to draw out his comrades.

He was all too familiar with the ways a person could be made to feel pain. Though he'd never seen his mother or father at work, he'd seen the remains they'd left behind; the tools carefully organized, shining against a bloodstained backdrop.

Kaius bit down on his tongue, trying to use the pain to anchor his thoughts. He didn't know that was his fate. He didn't know anything yet, and until he did, his best chance was to be still and silent.

“Is he alive back there?” A third voice, the driver. Feminine with an accent he couldn't quite place. Spanish, perhaps?

“He's fine,” said the loud one. “Sometimes they stop moving, y'know?”

“You know?”

“Well I read about it. It's the fight or flight reflex.”

“He does not seem to be doing either.”

“There's more than just those.”

The trio seemed to be fairly stupid, which could either work for or against Kaius. Easier to trick, easier to outwit and escape. Harder if they decided he had to know something about Vic's operation and decided to drag it out of him. Again, he suppressed a shudder, realizing for the first time just how badly his hands were shaking.

Enough. Enough, there's still time, it won't come to that. None of them had been unnecessarily rough or intentionally hurt him. He wouldn't panic for no reason. …At least that's what he ordered himself to do. His body failed to obey, feeling so rigid he wasn't sure he could move quickly if he tried.

Breathe deeply, stop it. Stop.

Even his breaths became stilted when the van made a sharp turn and shortly came to a stop. No matter how he tried to correct himself, no matter how illogical he knew he was being, Kaius was physically afraid. He managed to retain his silence as the van’s door was pulled open. A big pair of hands wrapped around his shoulders, propping him up into a seated position.

“Would you look at that? We actually caught one.” A new voice. Feminine, somewhat rougher than the driver's, American accent. Kaius clamped his teeth down on his tongue, trying to ignore the turning of his stomach. 

“You're one of Shepard's bodies, huh?”

The question caught him off-guard, and for a moment, he forgot his resolve not to speak. “Who?”

A short laugh above him. “Right. It's Vic to his friends, isn't it?”

Damnit, the group was after Vic then. They couldn't prove he worked for him. He just had to stay quiet.

“You don't have to answer that. I already know. Why else would you be snooping around where you were?”

They couldn't prove anything.

“Look, I'm not here to grill you on that asshole’s comings and goings. I brought you here as a favor.”

“A favor?” Again, his silence was forgotten at the sheer incredulity.

“Yeah. You… fucking shit, I can't keep doing this with the bag. Jazz, be a gentleman will ya?”

There was a tug at his neck, and then the bag slid off his head, pulling at his hair. Kaius squinted up at the newest speaker. 

He came face to face with a lean woman, her hair an offensively bright shade of yellow, cut into a jagged mullet. Her face and shoulders were covered in freckles, and her eyes seemed to glitter as she looked down at him.

“Damn, where'd Vic pull you from? Juvie?”

He couldn't tell if it was meant to be an insult, or just a misplaced observation. This time, he remembered his silence, but the woman was unbothered by his lack of response.

“So tell me about your little group. How many of you are there?”

The query was more along the lines of what Kaius expected, and he set his jaw, staring back without a word. The woman sighed.

“Come on babyface, I'm not your enemy. I want the same thing as you. Wrecking the Reality Cage, yeah?”

Less expected. Kaius frowned. “If that's what you want, then why are you impeding my progress?”

“Impeding? You came looking for me, didn't you?” She spread her arms. “I'd say I made your life easier.”

He'd figured as much, but hadn't wanted to assume outright. “Finley.”

“In the flesh.” She cast a look behind him then, tossing her head in a gesture to the loud one.

“Bring him inside.”

The hands were around his torso again, hauling him up and setting him on the ground, large fingers remaining behind to encircle his upper arm. Scanning his surroundings seemed a better use of his focus than getting frustrated at the unwanted contact, so Kaius turned his attention past Finley, into the room beyond. 

They were in a large bay, the sort a fire brigade might use to park their vehicles, though it was empty save the van and a few scattered shelves. A singular office was inlaid in white cinderblock, and Finley seemed to be making her way for it.

“Don't drag your feet, I won't bite,” the woman said, flashing a grin over her shoulder. Kaius did not return it. His thoughts were in a whirlwind.

She knew about Vic, that shouldn't be a surprise. Knowing about the Cage was to be expected considering she'd had a hand in it, but she wanted to destroy it? Why then was Vic so set on keeping away from her? On killing her if they had to meet?

He needed answers. But maybe this was the person who could give them to him. Ahead, Finley pushed the office door open, leaning on its frame.

“I think it's high time we had a chat.”

×~×~×

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me ,

@pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles ,

@echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight , @sodacreampuff , @starfields08000

[every-sanji]

[souji-upseta]

honestly andrew hussie is an absolutely brilliant visual storyteller. and just a brilliant artist overall. psycholonials is inspiring me to get back on the horse and draw again and go apeshit and experiment with color and composition and environment. just knowing what to use and when and how to balance what assets takes a lot of skill. people really don't give them enough credit. they're also amazing at transitions and animation.

keep in mind, this is a game where the characters often look like this:

and that most of the backgrounds are pixellated jpgs of either google earth satellite images of nantucket island, or the finest that google images has to offer. trust me—it works. and i stand by their philosophy about quick turnover 100%, because this game still manages to be god. damn. STUNNING. when it needs to be.

and appropriately crude and inscrutable when, say, what's being depicted is a pot full of boozy vomit on top of week-old leftover kraft mac and cheese, pfffft.

what's also brilliant is how unafraid they are to create visuals that are really fucking stupid. is that brilliant, or is it also just stupid? idk. i love it, either way.

[seraphimankh]

THE CLIFFHANGER OMG??? Do you know how many days/weeks it might be until the next chapter?

Tomorrow ;)

[july-19th-club]

forced myself to finish this book even though by the last hundred pages or so all i was doing was picking apart the post-catholicism of it all. bc i feel like it's important to read shit you don't gel with . just because. even though the whole way through i was like they HAVE to prove it's not real. they HAVE to. so not the point of any of it but i was desperate for them to Find The Body etc. and of course instead they have mystical time travel experiences and all that because that is the kind of book the actual star is but i was desperate for them to realize that the star you see is the actual star. and then it wasn't

[fiepige]

Heyo chapter 2 is here!

Summary:

��HOLY SH-” Miles and Gwen simultaneously turned to cover Pav’s mouth so as to not alert the creature in the middle of the carnage below them. The creature either didn’t hear him or it was too preoccupied with whatever it was doing. To his regret Miles soon realized what that was, as another wet snapping noise broke the silence once more. The creature was crouched down on all fours over what Miles assumed was the body of an officer, though it was so mutilated that it was hard to tell for sure. Its head was buried into the chest of the body beneath it, another wet snapping noise emerging as it pulled out a couple of ribs between its bloodied jaws... Or The Spider-Gang goes looking for Hobie. They don’t like what they find.

We finally get to meet the dude that gave me the motivation to write this fic in the first place!

[duck-newton]

New chapter!!! Ned’s turn

[dracolizardlars]

I'M THE BEST FIRE EMBLEM FATES PLAYER EVER BORN

I JUST COMPLETED CONQUEST CHAPTER 19: KITSUNE LAIR FIRST TRY WITH NO CASUALTIES

(ok it was only on normal difficulty but still)

[aza-trash-can]

Hehe

Hehehe

A fic idea has grown

[justabeewithapen]

I’m really normal

Guys do you think I got enough points yet

[draftingtides]

kind of nuts how sometimes i'll write more in a week than i have in an entire month

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal - masterlist

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: a man with no memories and the instincts of an animal finds his place in your home, and in your heart (it’s feral!logan)

warnings: non-sexual nudity, swearing, some sexual thoughts and mentions of sex, mentions of blood, angst, drinking/alcohol, violence, killing, smoking cigars, smut (in chapter 6), oral (fem!receiving), unprotected piv, pregnancy (in the epilogue) warnings will be added along with chapters

not all facts about reader may apply to you. i tried to keep it vague enough so you can insert yourself into the story, but writing a character requires knowing their personality, so it is impossible for this to fit everyone.

chapter 1: in which you meet logan

chapter 2: in which your relationship deepens and he speaks to you for the first time

chapter 2.5: an interlude in logan’s pov

chapter 3: in which you and logan share your first kiss

chapter 4: in which logan starts to regain his memories

chapter 5: in which you and logan start to patch things up

chapter 5.5: an introspection in logan’s pov

chapter 6: in which you and logan go all the way for the first time (smut)

epilogue: in which you’re pregnant and logan’s obsessed

bonus headcanons!

lazy mornings and the proposal

taking control

drabbles

feral!logan: the original drabble that started it all

feral!reader: what if reader also had feral traits?

more chapters and drabbles may be added… feel free to send requests!

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog @insanesosciopath @eridektbh @trickstergabriel69 @lord-bingus666 @a-leg-without-fear

[solargeist]

Ok I need to know is the grian eggpreg au inspired by this fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44296213/chapters/111398153

If not then hey check out this fic you might like it!

ok sooo ! my train of thought here, i wasn't inspired by any fics, but i did read "what to expect when you're not expecting" a few weeks ago, and that sorta had me cracking, eye twitching, etc etc, over grian having a baby wutEVER solars having amoment-

i had these thoughts in the back of my head with no place to go, other than occasionally drawing non-canon babey xelqua, which was the start of the "boatem taking care of a baby together" idea.

Besides that, i had recently started rewatching hc s8, and i had totally forgotten abt the egg completely ! And it just clicked... Grian said the egg was his pride and joy... he kept telling people off for touching it (understandable, it moves lmao) and i crumbled !!!!!!!!

See, my usual grian design isn't a bird/avian, he's an angel, so i never rly get to bird brain him completely, and i waaaanttt ttoooo !! i think he finds an egg, and while at first its just a trophy, he slowly gets a little crazy about it, until he thinks its his ? did he lay that ? hooowww even ? whatever, nest anyway ! The idea also, that the moon is falling, apocalyptic shit, and someones having a baby, is funny, as if theres not enough going on! and proms tomorrow!

People have sent me several fics abt this idea since i started posting lol, and i plan to read them !! miaou

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

[cercess]

Beneath New Skies - Chapter IV

Lingering Shadows

𖤓 Tags: sweet sweet angst 𖤓 Rating: General 𖤓 Word Count: 2.2k 𖤓 Notes: the angst begins babey!! I'm so excited about the next couple chapters. They may take a little bit because I intend to work on a few requests. If that interests you at all, or if you want to request something yourself, feel free to send me an ask! As always, I hope you enjoy the chapter. 𖤓 Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 𖤓 Read on AO3

In the previous chapter, the city was attacked by Nikador's Titankin. The reader tried to escape the city with their father, and the orphan Serena, but were stopped by a large monster. In hopes of saving their companions, the reader attempted to distract the Titankin and were injured as a result. Just as they thought they were done for, Phainon and the Outlander (Stelle and Dan Heng) arrived and swiftly dealt with the attacker.

What were you thinking had become your father’s most said words over the course of the past couple hours. When he asked you for the first time upon catching up with the other citizens, you answered honestly: “I don’t know, I just had to protect you and Serena.” After the third time he uttered the phrase, you assumed it was more of an exclamation than an actual question. 

“What if you had been seriously injured?” He asked as he pressed a poultice of poppy to your freshly-stitched wound. “Or worse,” his voice cracked in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. 

His unfamiliar vulnerability made your heart ache. Your endless justifications died somewhere between your brain and your mouth when he took your hand. “Don’t you ever do that again. It’s my job to protect you.”

You squeezed his hand, not knowing what to say. His concerns were justified; even you questioned your actions. If Phainon hadn’t shown up, you’d be dead. That harsh truth weighed heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry father. I won’t do something like that again.” 

He stared at your intertwined hand for a long while, obviously contemplating what to say next. Your father had never been a man of many words, instead allowing his actions to define his character. It was why he was so respected in Okhema; a dedicated physician and apothecary who never let his patients down. 

“I love you, Father,” you decided to close the gap for him.

“I love you too. More than you could ever know.” He patted your hand before reaching for the bandages. “You need to keep this clean and dry for the time being. If you notice inflammation, tell me immediately.”

“I know how to treat a wound. I learned from the best.” 

Your father cleared his throat awkwardly as he began dressing your injury. “So… that Chrysos Heir?”

“Phainon?” There was no hiding your relationship any longer. Part of you was relieved to finally have everything out in the open; you were used to being honest with your father. The other part braced for his disapproval. 

“He seems to care for you a great deal.”

“He’s very kind.” 

“What I saw was more than kindness,” your father wound the bandage tightly around your arm. “He cares for you. Deeply.” 

You smile absentmindedly, “you think so?” 

“I know so. And you care for him just as much.” He sighed as he tied off the dressing, “I do worry about you getting involved with the Chrysos Heirs.” 

Your heart cracked in your chest slightly, “why? Phainon’s never endangered me.” 

Your father shook his head, clearly considering his words carefully. “I worry that he’s influenced you to endanger yourself. What you did today was reckless. You don’t need to be a hero, you just need to survive.” 

Thinking back on the situation, your father had a point. As you stood there, facing down an impossible enemy, all you could think of was making those you loved proud: saving the day, even if it cost you your life. On the other hand, the situation had been so devoid of hope, that doing noting would have probably resulted in your death anyway. Nikador’s Titankin were not known for their mercy, and the one you encountered certainly seemed unwilling to let you pass. Of course, you only survived because Phainon and the Outlanders showed up just in the nick of time. Your actions ultimately served no purpose other than getting you hurt. That stung more than any blade. 

“The Chrysos Heirs,” he continued, “are not like us. They’re born with a greater purpose, which they have the skills to pursue. Your Phainon seems capable of fulfilling his destiny, and that is what worries me.” 

“You don’t want him to succeed?” 

“Do you know of Lady Aglaea?” Of course you did, everyone knew Lady Aglaea. She had helped protect the city during the Titankin attack! She was Phainon’s mentor, and he had nothing but good things to say about her. “I do,” you responded warily. 

“There are rumours that the demigod has lost her humanity as a result of inheriting the Titan’s powers. Some say her ability to love no longer exists. If Phainon ascends just as she did, there’s no telling if he would even be capable of holding affection for you.” 

You had always worried about the differences in your blood. It was an anxiety that had started somewhere deep in your heart, and slowly spread its thorns throughout your veins. Your father's words not only made briers creep further through your body, but caused them to rot and fester. What made matters worse was that your fears were mostly unfounded. Phainon had been nothing but good to you, yet your doubts lingered. In a way, you felt unworthy of him; like there were others that could truly appreciate him without reservation. You wanted to, so badly that it ached within you constantly, but the possibility of being cast aside terrified you. 

Noticing your silence, your father placed a hand on your back, “have you spoken to him about these things?” 

“No,” you admitted sheepishly. “But I’ve wanted to.” 

“Then you should. If things are truly meant to be between the two of you, then it will all work out.”

“That’s a very romantic sentiment coming from you.” 

“Matters of the heart don’t come naturally to me,” he darted his eyes to the floor, almost shamefully. “But I know well that when something is right, you can overcome the obstacles.” 

“Was it like that with mother?” The two of you never discussed her. You knew she came from a high-class family, and that your father’s seat on the citizen’s assembly was inherited from her, but nothing more about who she was as a person. 

“Your mother and I came from different worlds. She was a member of high society, and I was nothing more than a herb picker. It wasn’t until I met her that I realized I could be more than what my birth dictated.” He smiled wistfully into the distance, an expression you had never seen on your father’s face. Sure, he smiled from time to time, but that look of unequivocal devotion had never once crossed his features. “Her father didn’t approve of me, even after I became an apprentice apothecary. But your mother was stubborn. She refused to let her family keep us apart. In some ways, I see myself in you. I know how it feels to be cast out because of your station, and I don’t ever want you to have to endure that.”

His reservations about Phainon suddenly made a lot more sense. “What did she think?”

“She told me that I was a fool for listening to her father. The opinions of others never meant much to her, so she never understood why that rejection hurt me so.” He suddenly knelt before you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Don’t you ever let those Chrysos Heirs tell you that you’re lesser.” You gently squeezed his hand, “why would they say such a thing?”

“There are rumours spreading amongst the Council of Elders, that Lady Aglaea has turned into an unfeeling tyrant that prioritizes this Flame Chase Journey over the rest of us.” Acting as both an apothecary and physician meant your father heard almost everything going on in Okhema. People trusted him, and as such they tended to let things slip. Usually he paid no mind to idle gossip, especially when it came to politics.

“You’ve always said the Council are a bunch of stuck-up elitists themselves. Why would you believe that?” 

“I don’t know if I believe it, I just want you to be careful. He clearly makes you happy, but Phainon may one day have no choice but to move on. His path in life is both a privilege, and a burden.”

A knocking sound pulled your attentions away from the conversation. Standing in the open doorway was Phainon, his hand still raised from rapping on the wood. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, I tried knocking on the store’s door, but you didn’t hear me.”

Your father snapped back into his professional demeanour, “is there something we can do for you?” 

“I came to speak to your child.” 

“I’ll give the two of you some space. It’s about time I got started on dinner. Will you be staying?” 

The invitation seemed to catch Phainon off guard. He stuttered slightly before giving his answer, “I need to head home after I’m done here.”

The older man nodded before leaving the room. You fiddled with the edge of the bandage awkwardly, not knowing where to begin. After your conversation with your father, there were about a million things you wanted to say, none of which you knew how to properly verbalize. You wondered just how much of your discussion he overheard. 

“You scared me,” Phainon broke the silence as he slipped into the chair next to you. He took your hand in his, tracing the outline of your knuckles with his thumb. 

You stared at your intertwined hands. “Thank you for saving me.”

Shivers were sent coursing through your body when he gently grabbed your chin, and titled your face upward so that you met his eyes. “You never have to thank me for that.” 

Seeing his face made something within you crumble. Tears stung your eyes as you threw yourself into his arms. He pulled you close, holding you like you were the most precious treasure in the world. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.” He whispered against the top of your head.

“You don’t need to apologize.” You buried your face in his chest. 

“You’re hurt,” a deep sadness lingered in the cadence of his voice, like an out of tune instrument. 

This discordant melody lured you from the comfort of his body. You looked up to find him already staring down at you, sorrow staining his brilliant eyes. 

“I’ll be alright, Phainon. I’m more worried about you.”

He traced his thumb over your bottom lip, “why would you be worried about me?” “Your fight with Nikador. How did it go?”

His sigh was heavy, an omen of the bad news to come. “I thought we killed them, but it seems Nikador has divided their divinity.” 

“There are multiple Nikadors?” The image of the weapons laying at the Titankin’s feet flashed in your mind. If another attack were to be launched on the city in its weakened state, there was no telling the destruction that would be left behind.

“Don’t worry,” he grasped you tighter, “I’m headed to Castrum Kremnos with the Outlanders and Mydei tomorrow. We’ll finally put an end to Nikador’s madness.” 

Ending Nikador’s madness… after all the chaos the mad titan had wrought, it was about time they be put to rest. But another concern took priority in your mind: their Coreflame. Phainon had spoken of it before, how he would end Nikador’s reign of terror and claim their power for himself. Your father’s words replayed in your mind, if Phainon ascends, there’s no telling if he would even be capable of holding affection for you.

The rot flared in your veins as you struggled to be happy at the opportunity. What if he were killed in the attempt? What if he did succeed, and you became a footnote in the divine book of his life. That ugly, gnarled fear made your heart race in your chest. 

Killing Nikador, and rising triumphantly as Okhema’s new divine hero, was all that Phainon had ever wanted. He had never told you much about his past, but whenever he spoke of his mission, it seemed like a shadowy figure spurred him forward. That drive ignited something in him, something tempestuous and forlorn. There was more to his heroic desires than virtue, and you feared that the Coreflame of strife would only amplify the darkness within. How could a demigod born of Nikador feel anything but a desire for bloodshed? 

Of course, there was also the possibility of Nikador killing him, which was an even worse outcome. You wanted to believe that even if he inherited the Coreflame, Phainon’s good would still somehow shine through. How could it not? But death was a finality. You closed your eyes and saw the procession as clear as day; his lifeless body being paraded through the streets as the people placed flower around him, until he lay in a bed of flora. Okhema’s hope would be snuffed out alongside him, and the sun’s rays would no longer bring warmth and comfort. Instead, they would serve as a mournful reminder of the world’s last true hero.

The rot spread until it reached your tongue, forcing out selfish words. “Don’t go… please Phainon. I can’t lose you.”

You expected him to pull back in disgust. Instead, he held you closer. “I’ll be alright. It’s just like I always say: I’ll come back to you.” 

If you do come back, will you still care for me? “Do you promise?” Now wasn’t the time. He didn’t need another weight added to his overburdened shoulders. You resigned yourself to the pulsating miasma within. If he returned and ascended, then you would tell him your fears, and accept your place, whatever it may be. If he died, you would harden your heart, and mourn bitterly for the rest of your days. Better to keep the ugly inside than infest him too. 

“I promise, nothing will keep me from returning to you.” 

You let him hold you close until circumstance ripped you apart, as it always did. 

[ailishmaurafiction]

Escaping the dungeon is their clear goal, but first Thesa (the ex-paladin Witch) and her girlfriend? lover? domme? demoness will need to cross through a floor with an out-of-place theme: Candy! Will they make it through in tact or are they going to need a trip to the dentist when this is all done?

The next chapter of Paladin to Witch is the highest production value yet!

3 new monsters with art by Botjira!

A map I made in Dungeon Scrawl!

And the start of some silly nonsense!

Goes live: Tuesday, December 17 @ 11:00am PDT

Story summary and publishing details under the cut:

Indebted to the very demoness she was sent to kill, Thesa questions everything she’s ever known, bonds with the sexy [High Devil] Merijest, and practices her interpersonal skills. Can she help Merijest rebuild her army before it's too late?

Includes:

- Slow-ish burn GL romance

- [System]-lite LitRPG about two characters accustomed to life in a video-gamey world

- Steamy tension (no explicit sex scenes, mostly implications and tension)

- A reverse dungeon-crawl from the bottom of a kaiju-sized mimic

- An ex-Paladin trying her best not to stare at a casually nude demoness

- Weird monsters from the mind of a maniac author

- Very infrequent curse words. I counted 8 times in the first volume (45k+ words).

- Religious trauma. This one is especially going to appeal to the Catholic and Ex-Catholic girlies out there. Nobody does angst like we do, babey! (Nothing inside is strictly allegorical of any religion, but the sensibilities are definitely informed by a Catholic milieu.)

Updates Tuesdays at 11:00am PDT

Chapters hover around 1-2k words each

Cover and monster art by botjira