#I feel angry for everyone who has trusted this service and now it's spitting us in the face

[pridoo]

friendship ended with Gumroad

Hi everyone,

just got a cold ass email (actually two) this morning that my Gumroad account has been suspended and I can't get my money until I 'agree to their guidelines' which a third party content moderator service iffy (yes, really – their logo is literally the :/ face) is supervising. TLDR; I'm tired, angry and I swear quite a lot.

The funny thing is, I had already archived all my nsfw works on my Gumroad account, which left them with status 'unpublished'. Unknown to me, the contents should have been permanently deleted instead, because apparently in Gumroad unpublished works are still available for purchase via direct links. My bank statement doesn't separate the individual services I get payments from, so I wasn't aware of this.

Even funnier is, someone was still able to buy two comics from me after my account was suspended. Is my money ok but just so they can keep it at Gumroad?? I do not understand.

Anyhow, I deleted all my products on Gumroad. Permanently. Then I followed the guide on to how to get my account back – only to find out that the form for it does not work. At all. So now I'm either stuck with not getting something like 20 USD back from Gumroad or just deleting my entire account, which I'm not sure will help me getting paid. I'm sleepy and tired and most of all, really angry about their way of operating.

This is not the same service I signed up on. Changing the content guidelines, moderating content via a third party service that could be used for, idunno, rake hate speech, is instead used to weed out adult fancomics online. Gumroad's FAQ is written in a flippant way that made my eye twitch from sheer anger. Look at this:

idk, maybe Mrs. Gumroad can give me a fucking break for trusting that my stuff was safe with her instead of being a fucking bootlicking republican ass kissing spineless sandworm?

Anyway, my time with Gumroad is over. They made money from my art and they thank us all like this. It's a middle finger to the face. I'd suggest everyone else consider moving to itch.io from Gumroad as well.

[duskier]

cw objectum (Ghost is dating his rifle and fucks it like he means it!)

Idk about yall I kind of just love pathetic freak Ghost who doesn't care. I feel like he loves his service rifle, carved a name into the lower receiver and called her that name genuinely, like she were a person. (Also called her she, confusing everyone on base for a minute, thinking he somehow finally got a girlfriend.)

He cuddles it in his sleep. He gets used to having the cold, hard metal to wrap his arms around, pulling it against his body. Fingers listless as they dip into the magwell lazily, absently as he drifts off to sleep with his cheekbone against the business end of his dear rifle. It smells like dirt and lead and like home for Ghost, and he needs it to sleep.

When he wakes up in the morning, aching hard and groggy, who else could he trust? The steady, immortal predictability of the rifle's buttstock pressing almost insistently against his own length is too good to resist. So what if he holds the gun steady by the handguard and rocks himself up against it. Hard biting edges giving Ghost the barest amount of pain, sending sparks flying through his core.

It's only a problem when it becomes a habit. Ghost comes home from a long mission, pent up as all hell. Feels like he'll either die or his balls will just fall off from lack of use. It's got him irritable as it's all he can think about. Every little thing that keeps him from beelining to his room needs to be destroyed. He left his gear- including his precious rifle- in the storage room. Not even put away, just leaned against the wall, shoved out of the walkway.

Getting back to his private quarters and not even making it to his bed, just slamming his door locked and gripping his cock over his pants. The gear he could ignore, Ghost doesn't even stop to remove his gloves. Just tugs out his cock and starts frantically chasing that release he's been aching for, the one that has been eluding and tormenting him the entire time.

...But he couldn't reach that goal post. It had become too much of a habit, he couldn't feel the comfort of his bed beneath him nor smell the oil he used to clean his rifle. It's all a blur, then, a miracle he had enough sense to tuck his cock back away as he storms back across base.

If Ghost had been scary before, he was beyond even comprehension now. Angry dark aura infecting the corners of every room he stalked past. Stalking back through the halls with his rifle slung around his shoulders, the familiar weight grounding him just a little.

He beds her like he would any lover. pulling her against him after he's stripped all his clothes off. He wants to feel her against him entirely. Groaning open mouthed at the relief that floods him pressing up against her. He flexes his hips, pushing even just a bit harder. It hurts but she needs to know.

"Can you feel how much I missed ya?" Had Ghost had his wits about him, he might have felt embarrassed for how tender and domesticated he sounded- especially towards his damned gun. "Well I know you was there love, but couldn't hold ya in front o'the lads, not like this a'least. They wouldn't get you like I do."

Rocking up against her insistently. Some fingers gripping the handguard like it's a lifeline, others dancing down her lower and fiddling with her mag release button. The way Ghost is feeling entirely raptured against her form, falling into the heavy daze of lust.

Groaning like a wild animal in a rut, chasing the now swiftly approaching light at the end of the tunnel, Ghost’s tongue flicks out. Licks the sweet bitter rim of the muzzle break. The cold metal still has slag on it, a rough texture that delights his sensitive tongue. He laps at it like it's a hole he's opening for himself, savors the taste as his mind slips slowly further out of his skull. All that's left in him is a need, a hunger.

He scratches his cheekbone on the muzzle when he hugs the rifle tight as he cums- metal and soot and spit and blood mingling together as it feels his body and soul are torn apart. He grunts and moans while his cock shoots rope after rope onto his girl, hips still thrusting weakly as he chases the last of his orgasm down.

[hesperie-s]

I'm struggling. I'm not looking for sympathy or solutions, but I want to know that I'm not alone. And I want others to know they aren't either.

I no longer have any trust in my community. I mean that both as in where I physically live and work, and just in general as a white woman and an American. I feel betrayed, and as a result I feel angry and resentful. I used to think that I wanted everyone to be okay, even the people who disagreed with me or hated me, because in the end we were in the same boat. I still wished for their happiness. Now I think they can all fuck off and rot.

I haven't been watching the news. I barely know what's going on, and I feel more content for it. Being actively aware and fighting for what I thought was right got me nothing but stress and misery. My brain has been trying to protect itself by insisting on selfishness -- if it doesn't affect me directly, why bother caring? -- but that's not the kind of person I want to be.

When I do catch bits and pieces, I spiral and catastrophize. What's going to happen when my student loans all come due at once? Am I going to have a job next year (my pay comes from federal funding for public health programs, which I can't imagine is going to survive)? Is every gamble I've made to improve myself going to backfire hard and leave me worse off than I was before? What price am I going to pay for my optimism?

I badly want to think I'll eventually get up, spit out the blood and broken teeth, and start again. But right now I'm despairing, and I don't know if I'll have the will to keep fighting.

(I'm going to be okay, please don't worry about me. I'm not going to hurt myself in any way. I have a good support system and access to mental health services that I'm planning to tap into today. But I'm not okay right now, and that's perfectly understandable.)

[darkmulti]

𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭:

𝐁𝐚𝐞𝐤𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐞𝐤

⚠️: if you’re a softy, keep scrolling. If you click ‘keep reading’ don’t complain.

𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Pairing: Baekhyun x female reader

Do not request for “Pick Your Split”

A/N: I don’t know why I put baek as his name but whatever. THIS IS SO SHIT OMG IM SO SORRY!!! It’s not edited!!

~ NSFW ~

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐃𝐈𝐃) 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲/𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲.

This profile is for entertainment purposes only and do not represent the real Byun Baekhyun.

THIS CONTAINS NON CONSENSUAL SEX!

PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

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Meeting Baek:

“Kitten, come here and eat your food.”

You lifted your head up and saw him standing in the doorway with a plate in his hand

Unfortunately for you, you met Baek first

He was the cold and quiet student in your university class

You didn’t have a problem with him until you figured out that he was stalking you

He placed small cameras in your locker, and bedroom without you knowing

He hacked into all your social media, not to mess around but to keep an eye on you

You know, just in case a boy was texting you

When a boy was getting too close to you, Baek would kill them

No hesitation

The next day, you’d come to school and hear about the devastating news

Not knowing you’re the reason behind all these deaths

Baek didn’t know how to approach you

He wanted to ask you out but was afraid of rejection

If he got rejected, he’d lose his shit

He asked you out and surprisingly you said yes

After finishing dinner, he paid for the meal and wanted to drive you back home

You agreed and got in his car with him

You were giving him directions but man was not listening

He told you he wanted to go for a late night drive

You were kind of scared but kept it cool

Soon he started driving out of town and that’s when your heart started to race

“Where are we going?”

“Back to my place.”

“Why? I want to go home, Baek.”

He gave you a side glare then started driving the car faster, absolutely terrifying you

“Don’t do anything stupid, kitten.”

You reached in your phone and pressed down on the lock button which would automatically call emergency services

But Baek was three steps ahead of you

He already took your phone and replaced it with one which had no service

He did it when you left to the bathroom

He noticed your hand in your purse and pulled over in the middle of no where

“What’re you doing?” Your voice cracked because you were terrified

“Give me your purse.”

“No!” You said, knowing that your phone was in there and was your only option to get help

“Give me your fucking purse before I punish you right here in the car.”

You opened the car door and got out before anything could happen

He quickly got out and chased you until he caught you

“That’s it, you stupid whore. I’ve tried to be nice, so remember, you did this to yourself.”

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Baek’s Punishment:

Baek didn’t want to do this but you gave him no choice

He pulled out his handkerchief and covered your nose and mouth, forcing you to inhale

You passed out in his arms and he drove back to his place

Baek couldn’t wait for you to wake up

He fucked you raw while you were unconscious

Baek has anger issues and always takes it out on others

While he was fucking you, he thought about all the men you’ve liked, touched and kissed

Baek was angry because another man had you before him

So he took that anger out on your pussy

Baek was an impatient sadist

He didn’t like repeating himself and got off by seeing you in pain caused by him

Sexual punishments for the most part

He never hit you, only slaps on the face, especially if you talk or fight back

Bondage

He would tie ropes around your neck, wrist, ankles and stomach

He’ll put a gag in your mouth

Tie you to the bed so you can’t escape

Then he’ll fuck you like there’s no tomorrow

He didn’t feed you everyday

Only gave you water everyday

He was rough

He’s waiting for you to really push his buttons then he’ll fuck your ass

He loves blowjobs

If you want food, give him a blowjob

Seeing his cum on your face turns him the fuck on

The type of dom to slap you across the face while fucking you

Degrades you for crying

Spits into your mouth whenever he feels like it

Hickeys

He doesn’t spank much but when he does, he uses a paddle so it hurts more

When you wake up, high chance that he’s still fucking you

It only takes one round to knock all the energy out of you

He weakened you until you literally couldn’t get up and walk

If you wake up and he’s sleeping, just know he’ll be angry at you for passing out even though it’s his fault

He’ll still blame it on you because he’s toxic like that

If you try to explain yourself, congratulations, you’ve earned another punishment

Don’t argue with Baek

He’s always right

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Meeting Baekhyun: 

Now this rarely happens

Unlike my other split profiles, Baek is out most of the time

Baekhyun is the weak one who doesn’t come out very often

But after seeing your vulnerable state after Baek sexually tortured you, he decided to come out and care for you

Baekhyun finally came out after several months

He fed you properly

Treated you like a human being

Let you bathe and didn’t touch you without your consent

He was funny and seemed like he really cared about you

At first, you were scared of him

But the man introduced himself as Baekhyun

You were really confused but Baekhyun explained that he had a heartless personality

Everything came together in your head and you were no longer confused

You really started to trust Baekhyun

Not fall for him because he had the same face as that monster

But he slowly started to gain your trust

Baekhyun takes care of you after Baek uses you

He’ll pick you up and bring you upstairs to bathe you

Then he’ll give you some warm clothes

He wants you to be relaxed and comfortable for as long as possible before Baek comes out

Baekhyun can’t control the personality switch

When Baek wants to come out, he fights with Baekhyun and always wins

When Baek is out, you have to be submissive again

And let me tell you, Baek doesn’t like the amount of time you’re spending with Baekhyun

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Baek’s Behaviour After Meeting Baekhyun:

Baek didn’t know how to behave

He wanted you to love him

He wanted all your attention on him not his other personality

But the only way he could get it was changing himself

Baek figured out whenever he hurt you, Baekhyun came out

To avoid bringing Baekhyun out he had to treat you differently

In other words, he had to be nice to you

It may sound easy, but Baek is created to be cold, heartless and mysterious towards everyone

He could no longer force you to do anything

Since Baek was out more, you had no choice but to get along with him unless you wanted to get punished

Even though a year has passed and he slightly changed, he still terrifies you

Since he “changed” you wanted to ask if you could leave him but no matter how hard you cried or how much you begged, Baek will never let you out of his sight

He’ll be nice to you as long as you obey him

That was his number one rule

He can be nice and charming when you’re not on his nerves

Baek still punishes you

However, they are not as brutal as before

After 2 years he finally took you to a public place because he trusted you enough

He was tightly holding your hand so you didn’t dare to run away

He’s very overprotective and possessive

Even a glance from another man and he’s ready to fight

Baek will be alright as long as you keep your attention only on him

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3 years went by you unexpectedly grew closer to Baek however, at times you’d find yourself thinking about Baekhyun. Both of them truly loved you but now it’s your decision to choose the better man.

𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Blood Hungry: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

“The guy the kid described definitely sounds like a tweaker,” you say once you, Spencer, and the cops show back up at the police station.

“Pull the files of all the methamphetamine arrests in the past six months,” the sheriff asks of the deputy.

“Will do.”

“We should narrow the suspect list down according to the guy's residence. Crimes like these are always crimes of opportunity,” Spencer points out.

“So the first guy on our suspect list will live in the closest proximity to the victim.”

“Do you have a place where we can set up?”

“You can use Simpson's desk. He's out. You got a phone there and a computer. Meantime, I'm gonna narrow down that list,” Sheriff Hall says.

You and Spencer walk over to the desk, and you take a seat on the edge of it while Spencer sits on the actual chair.

“You know, that house was full of chaotic energy. I saw Annie walk around her house, and I felt Wally’s energy as well as both unsubs. One was violent and angry while the other was jittery and nervous. There was only one killer, and the other guy didn’t even know what he was doing.”

“That can help us when we determine who’s on our suspect list,” Spencer nods.

“Hey, you guys find anything?” Derek asks as he and Hotch enter the station.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Y/N found an eyewitness. A little boy who saw someone in the driveway.”

“That's more than we got at Thompson's place,” Hotch shrugs.

“We got two suspects,” JJ and Elle make their way over to everyone else. “Judd Franklin and Domino Thacker.”

“Can I see them?” you ask, and JJ hands over the files.

Both men are equally suspicious, but Domino is the one who screams at you to catch him. You hand over the file to Derek who reads it.

“I know Domino. He's bad news. Serious tweaker. Cooks his own stuff,” Sheriff Hall butts in.

“Does he live near the crime scenes?” Elle asks.

“Almost directly between them.”

“Robbery, armed robbery, possession, and possession with intent. This guy's been hospitalized for overdoses and attempted suicide,” Derek reads.

“What do you think?” Hall asks.

“We need to find Domino,” you conclude.

Derek and some burly cops went to get Domino which was the best idea they had. According to Derek, this guy ran and tried to fight back. However, due to his small stature and nervous outlook, he was easily caught and brought back to the station where Sheriff Hall placed him behind bars. This guy is wearing nothing but his underwear, so he was given a blanket due to him shivering like a Chihuahua.

“Hey, Hotch, I think it’s best if I talk to this guy. His energy is spiking in every direction, and I know I can make a connection with him easily.”

“Okay,” he nods.

Him, Derek, and Elle want to see this pan out, so they follow you to where the suspect is. From only one glance, you know this guy is the thief and not the killer. His energy matches the nervous energy you saw at the house. He is the one who robbed Annie, not killed her.

“I’m freezin’,” Domino complains as he scratches at his head.

You, Hotch, and Sheriff Hall are the only ones inside the cell while Derek and Elle are hanging outside of it.

“Domino, what were you doing at Annie Stuart’s house?” you ask gently.

“I didn't do nothin'. I got the flu. I'm sick is what I am,” he sniffles.

“We know you were there, boy,” Hall glares.

“Sheriff,” you whisper and shake your head when he looks at you.

“In the driveway. I was lookin' at that car, but I never stoled it. I was thinkin' about it, but I left. I seen that kid.”

“The blood found on the bottom of your boot is Annie Stuart's. The tread from the bottom of your boot is the same as the tread found all over the crime scene. Inside!” Elle yells.

“Elle, stop,” you snap and glare at her.

She is not helping this situation.

“Deputy. Coming out,” she sighs and leaves since she knows she won’t be of any help here.

“I didn't do nothin',” Domino whimpers.

“Domino,” you sigh and bend down so he doesn’t have to look up at you. “Look at yourself. You have a record and the blood of Annie all over you. How do you think that’s going to hold up in court? Think about that.”

“I... I… came back. I came back to her house. But he was leavin'.”

“Who?”

“Some dude, man. I don't know.”

“What was he wearing?” you ask.

“He had a hood. A black hood.”

“Domino, look at me,” you order gently, and he just shakes his head. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one is. I just want to talk to you. Come on, look at me.” He finally does and you can see just how scared he was. “You didn’t do this, did you?” He shakes his head. “Okay, if that’s true, then you gotta help us out here. Talk to me. You left. You saw him leave. Then what?”

“Went in and--and she's lying there. You know, um, I needed money real bad so... she was already like that.”

“She was like what?”

“You know, she was all cut up,” he starts to cry.

“She was all butchered up and you robbed her anyway?”

“It ain't right!” he yells, and you stand back up. This interview is done. “It ain't right! I'm sorry! It ain't right. Oh, god, forgive me. Oh, god... It ain't right! I'm sorry!”

“We’re done here,” you say to the Sheriff and Hotch.

It’s time that Domino is left alone to think about what he’s done. When you get to the main part of the station, you turn to the Sheriff.

“He didn't do it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“He was pretty freaked out just thinking about what was done to Annie,” Derek points out.

“People pretend,” he shrugs.

“Anybody delusional enough to eviscerate Annie would not be lucid enough to recount it the way he did. Trust me, he didn’t do it. He robbed her, but that’s it.”

“Alright. I'll have him taken to detox and then I'm gonna arrest him for robbery.”

“In the meantime, I'd have your men canvass the neighborhood again to see if they saw a guy in a hooded sweatshirt,” Derek orders.

“Will do,” he nods.

Once you and the team had a rough idea of what to look for, it was time to give the profile. Every single cop in the station gathered around to hear what your team had to say. According to Gideon, he discovered that the unsub is drinking and eating the blood and organs after placing them in round containers. It’s why there were bloody rings on the coffee table. You have enough to put together a profile.

“We are looking for a twenty to thirty-year-old male,” Hotch begins.

“The unsub engages in anthropophagy. It's a psychotic conviction that he must drink human blood and possibly eat human flesh,” you add.

“For Richard Rrenton Chase, the vampire killer, he drank his victims' blood because he believed that aliens had invaded his body and were slowly drinking his blood,” Spencer spits out facts only he would know.

However, you knew about this too.

“If he didn't get the blood he needed, he'd die. Anthropophagy suggests such an extreme level of psychosis and disorganization that he couldn't have ventured very far from home to commit these crimes. This guy lives or has lived in this town. He knows the territory.”

“You've all seen him,” Derek takes over. “Maybe at the ballpark or riding his bike home from the grocery store. He wasn't always a threat. He could have been your neighbor. He might have been your friend. We think something about his delusion is keeping him here in town.”

“So, we're gonna start at Annie’s house and we're gonna spread out there in quadrants. We're gonna eliminate all of his hiding places,” Hotch determines.

“Paul Thompson's funeral is this afternoon. A lot of his neighbors are gonna be there,” Sheriff Hall mentions.

“Then that’s where we start,” you nod.

The funeral is in full service, and you’re scanning the area to see who might be at all suspicious. Most everyone is passing your tests, but there is one woman wearing a lacy black veil that raises a bunch of red flags. For some reason, she has a tint of that angry red energy you saw back at the house. There is something not right with her.

You go to mention this to Hotch who stands next to you when JJ and Elle walk over with a bunch of case files.

“So, we got some names of unsubs. Farrell Belvedere, twenty-three. He, uh, took a little too much LSD and flipped out in a Winn Dixie and tore up a cheese counter.”

“It’s not him,” you shake your head.

“Okay, show her Mark Ward. He's twenty-one with five counts of petty larceny. Attempted suicide, committed for a year, but now he's living back with his parents.”

“Nope,” you shake your head.

“The last one is Oley Maynor, twenty-five. He was institutionalized for severe manic-depression. He has violent mood swings. When he was eighteen, he got arrested for biting the heads off chickens.”

“He matches what I saw. It could be him, but it ain't the other two. I know it for sure,” you say.

“Gather as much information as you can about him,” Hotch orders.

“You got it,” you nod and leave with Elle.

Derek catches up with you and Elle to gather information on Oley, but you have one woman in mind. By the time you got debriefed, the funeral was over. The woman in the lacy veil was leaving, and you rushed over to her to see what she knows. You really want to get a feel about who she is and what she’s hiding because you know she’s hiding something.

“Ma’am, do you mind if we ask you a few questions?” you ask and flash her your badge.

“Of course, what do you need to know?”

“Do you know a man named Oley Maynor?”

“Of course. I just saw him the other day,” she nods without looking at you.

“You saw him where?” Derek asks.

“He was with his brother. In fact, I think it looked like they didn't want to be seen because he took Oley out of the car and went straight into his house.”

“When was this, Mrs. Mays?” Elle asks.

She must have known who this is because you didn’t know her name.

“Three days ago.”

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IN SERVICE OF THE REPUBLIC

Art depiction from Where I Belong of my OC CT-1917/Lucky

Sneak peak scene snippet from chapter 13 of Where I Belong below!!

The sound of the nearest set of blast doors opening does little to pull a reaction from Arwen as she feels a presence emerge from the interior of the base and out onto the walkway where she was. She didn’t need much time at all to guess who it was. After that speeder-wreck of a conversation, General Kenobi was the only one who’d likely try to speak with her.

Despite having had almost half an hour to think about the conversation she’d just had with the Jedi Council members, Arwen could feel the anger bubbling back up to the surface. She was angry with them, but even more so with herself for thinking such an arrangement could actually be authentic.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” General Kenobi announced himself, despite knowing she was aware of his presence already. 

Arwen let her eyes shoot to the left as the Jedi came to stand a few feet away from her before he turned to face the view of the Cruiser Staging Area. His aura was relaxed but his tone and posture gave away the most subtle hesitation he was bringing with him. He definitely wanted to say something; he wasn’t just coming for small talk. It’d be awkward if he did.

“I feel that our conversation took something of a wrong turn.”

“Wayii (good grief)- Just spit it out, General.” Corcer turned abruptly, pushing off of the railing her forearms had been rested upon to face the Jedi. His expression was calm, only a slight furrow of his brow indicated his reaction and potential concern or perhaps consideration to her anger bubbling over. “You used me to get what you needed for your investigation. That blasted contract was just a load of fodder-”

“The Council is still deliberating on your greater role, Corcer.” The General responded. “The contract is genuine, I assure you.” He sounded just as genuine however that did little to convince Arwen as she shook her head and looked out over the railing once more, hands grasping the railing tightly. 

“You must understand that the Council simply needs time to evaluate and consider the situation.” 

“All due respect, what else is there to consider?” She shot daggers over her shoulder before throwing the look ahead of her. “My service record? Jobs I’ve taken as a merc just to get by and survive in the mere months since my team was-” The abruptness of Arwen cutting off her own words had to have caught the Jedi’s attention as he physically shifted where he stood.

“Your team,” He stated the phrase with a casual quietness that made Corcer tense.

“Wer'cuy… Jetiise ke nu suvarir (forget it/it doesn’t matter… Jedi don’t understand).” She muttered under her breath with a shake of her head. 

“I beg your pardon?” The question seemed to be one of surprise more than anything.

“A Jedi wouldn’t understand!” Arwen finally barked, not bothering to look towards him. She only kept her gaze ahead, forearms coming to lean back on the railing as she looked down over ledge towards the lower deck where a small airfield was.

After everything; all that had happened. She didn’t know if she had the right to feel insulted or even upset about the position she was in. Granted she did everything in her power on that mission- gave everything she had and intended to give her life if not for the fact that she was somehow still here despite the odds. She gave everything. Herself. Her team- the only family she’d ever known - for the Republic… Was that not enough?

Arwen wished the sound of the ion engines of one of the Republic’s Venator-class cruisers powering up was loud enough to drown out any further conversation that could take place. She felt oddly trapped with this Jedi, despite having plenty of space to move away from him as he stood idly by a few feet away. He was being more civil than she’d like. Mentally trying to stomp out the crumbs of guilt sitting heavy in her stomach at her behavior around this General - a superior - didn’t seem to be working. 

He’s done nothing but be genuine so far. She had no reason to be angry with him specifically. But then again he was a Jedi. Jedi didn’t deal with emotions like other people did. They were cold, calculated individuals; weighing life rarely by worth but by majority… unless you were weighing the worth of a Jedi against Clones of course. Then the worth of one outweighed that of the majority. Jedi were just like everyone else… viewing this army like nothing but canon fodder; easily disposable and replaceable. Her team was nothing but numbers on a spreadsheet to them. She could count the number of Jedi she trusted on one hand. That number was even smaller when considering how many she trusted that weren’t already dead.

The Jedi General was quiet in his movements as he came to stand by her side, posture straight as he rested his hands upon the railing and eyed the view before them. Moving his gaze subtly he eyed the mercenary, noting her eyes had fallen and her expression, for a brief moment, appeared more exhausted and broken than any he’d seen in some time. 

“The Republic owes you and your team a great debt.” He’d considered the proclamation before coming to find Corcer. It was true after all. He’d read the details on the file; what she, as well as her team, had been a part of; how their actions may have very well saved the Republic just months prior due to the information they’d obtained and kept out of Separatist hands. However, that victory came at a cost.

Arwen shook her head at his words. Whether it was out of denial of his words or something else, Kenobi wasn’t completely sure. He was reluctant to dig deeper into her aura, but wanted to at least attempt, if not to get a better understanding of her. 

“Nice payback.” Arwen muttered before crossing her arms over the railing, risking the action of resting her chin down on her forearms. Her back was still tense, and she was ready to act at any time, however this Jedi posed no threat to her. Not at the moment at least.

General Kenobi considered her response before he nodded to himself.

“I understand you feel betrayed, and I apologize for what took place and- has… since taken place.”

Arwen could tell by the split second hesitation at the end of his sentence that he was treading carefully, however she didn’t plan on holding him to his words. She wanted to just knock his statement up to him sweet talking to get her cooperation however she could feel his sincerity. It was clear as day in the air and she couldn’t deny or ignore it.

“I’m sorry about General- Kazar and- Padawan Vorruk… sir,” Her voice lost its confidence rather quickly as soon as she uttered the names. She hadn’t said the names of the Jedi General and Padawan she’d worked with on that last mission since… the mission itself. “I-...” She couldn’t bring herself to continue as her throat tightened and suffocated the words before she could utter them.

I did what I could.

She hadn’t said it out loud, but she knew she didn’t have to.

“I know,” The response didn’t surprise her as much as his tone did. His voice held emotion, despite his professional output. He projected a sense of understanding and mentorship. There was also certainty to his tone.

He must’ve watched the holorecording. 

Arwen closed her eyes, brow knitting tightly as she tried to push the images from her mind. She could almost feel the weight of the Jedi padawan in her arms sometimes; when she’d held his half conscious body, clinging to life, while she tried to relay coordinates and need for extraction to the nearest Republic fleet and simultaneously fend off incoming hostiles. 

And now the Jedi had the footage of her message. 

It angered her that it was memorialized as a recording, but it enraged her that they’d seen it and still saw her as a threat. Like nothing that happened that day held any weight. 

A slight shift in the Jedi’s aura caused her to look subtly out of the corner of her eye and she evaluated his posture as it straightened and he cleared his throat quietly.

“I am currently negotiating with the Council to have you ship out with General Skywalker and I.” 

Arwen’s brow scrunched together at the Jedi’s words and she pushed off of the railing to stand straight and face the Jedi.

“Sir- the Council said-”

“I am proceeding to try and convince them otherwise.” Kenobi responded, hands coming behind his back as his gaze arched over the view in front of them once more before it returned to her. “I read your file and reviewed your training as well as completed missions. Your skillset will be of the most use in the field. Now, it will take some time before we can have you operating openly if this pans out. But for the time being, I am going to do my best to get the Council’s permission to have you work in the background of any ongoing operations within my battle group.”

Alright… This Jedi isn’t half bad.

Corcer eyed him for a moment, overall uncertainty written in her expression before she swallowed and let out a quiet breath through her nose.

“Thank you, sir.” 

I feel like a di'kut now.

The General eyed her quietly for a time before glancing away towards the blast doors down the walkway. 

“0700 tomorrow there will be a meeting on standard operating procedures in the east wing for new clones joining the ranks of the 212th. You’re welcome to attend.”

The offer surprised her, however that surprise was quickly overshadowed by solace. Corcer’s hands swung around behind her back subconsciously, posture straight and attentive as she gave the Jedi General a nod.

“I’ll be there, sir.” Arwen’s tone voiced assurance and even confidence.

Giving her a curt nod and a hint of a professional smile, General Kenobi excused himself and turned to head back inside. 

Corcer watched him leave and once the blast doors closed behind the Jedi, she found herself mulling over the breath sitting in her chest before she slowly let it out and returned to her spot leaning on the railing.

The sense of reassurance was starting to leave a subtle bitter taste in her mouth. On the surface she felt relief, knowing this Jedi appeared to be coming at her from the right direction; easing her into situations where she’d be surrounded by the troops. However the deeper she sifted through her mind… she was terrified. 

How the kark am I gonna fit in with these troopers? I don’t know the first thing about Infantry SOPs.

Then there was the matter of how she would be received. The last thing she wanted was to be on the bad side of these troopers. Then again her very presence was already proving a negative to the 501st troopers as they’ve had to cart her around twice today. If things kept going down the same road, she’d have a difficult time fitting in.

Until she knew exactly what her job would be, if the General could square something away for her, she couldn’t get too comfortable with anything on the base, and especially not with any of the men. That was the only thing she’d need to be sure to do. Don’t let yourself care; don’t get attached. If it’s one thing her past had taught her; it only ends in heartbreak and it leaves you more alone than ever.

Not one of my best arts, but I’ve had it sitting on the shelf for a long time so I figured it was better to share it sooner rather than later. Check the story out if you’re curious for more! Feedback is always appreciated 💕

[hiatus-for-forever]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader Soulmate AU

Summary: You want to start a business early revolving around your quirk but it leads you to find a rare case in your new school

Quirk: Red Strings. You are able to see the red strings that connect each person to their soulmate by a red string on each of their pinkies. This quirk is received by the oldest daughter in the family once they turn 4 (the parent still has it even when the child does). Sons can also have it but as a secondary quirk, it immediately gets passed down to the daughter and leaves the son with one quirk. You are able to cut it and/or tie it to yourself or other people at the cost of one year of your life for each alteration.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, cursing

WC: 1,725

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You still remember when you got your quirk. The day you turned four you saw the bright red strings appear, connecting everyone to each other. Some had strings that were long and crossed the streets and went around buildings, and some had their stings attached to the person next to them. They were on the floor for most of the time, occasionally stretched when two people had a strain on their relationship. They never broke though, always connected and paired by the universe, whoever it may be who controls it. They got longer when people are far from each other, and shorter when they were close. 

You saw sometimes the people who were connected, passing by each other without a second thought, strangers who rarely looked back at each other as the strange feeling overcame them. You were always happy when you saw two soulmates holding hands, and felt sorry for those who passed by their soulmate with a significant other in their arms. Some people even has two strings and you thought that was so cool. 

You liked to follow the strings when they were going in the same direction as you, and eventually got used to seeing them around not paying mind unless it was a short glance at two loving soulmates. 

Your mom and you were the only ones who could see and interact with them, your grandma dying before you were born with not many stories left behind. She would step on them while you avoided doing so, until she said it was fine. You still didn’t like to walk over them, only the accidental step sometimes but you mostly subtly avoided them. You remember that one time you tripped on a string and those few times you had to duck or go around strained ones. 

Then came when you looked at your pinkie, no bright red sting there. When you asked your mom why you didn’t have one she told you she didn’t have one at first either. She did though, you mentioned, and she said that she cut your dad’s string and tied it to her. You gasped and asked her why and she said that your dad asked for it, his original soulmate was “probably really far away anyway”. She said there was some guilt of course but 20 years of going strong it had melted away. 

She even told you of a story of someone who was bitter of not having a string, she cut every string in her path and ended up dying early, passing the quirk to her first niece. 

“Do you help your friends find their soulmates!?” you beamed, she smiled but shook her head. 

“I can’t, I don’t have the time to with all my work. Plus, you don’t even know if they want to know. They could be happily married or something“ she said. She was right, but you wanted to lead people to their soulmates! But you couldn’t do that under the circumstances you mom had just helped you realized.

Then the thought hit you, it could be your job! You could help people and make money all at the same time and it would be the best job ever! That thought was what started your continuous studying to get into a good school, and getting into that school. To be honest you’ve never been as driven about something as much as this.

So here you were now, at the doorway of UA.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You got stares from everyone as you confidently stepped into the building, then immediately jumping and tiptoeing about in the hallways avoiding the red strings you would soon shorten. Word had already gotten around after you explained to one person why you were walking funny. 

Days later you were already getting requests but you would just turn them down. Maybe just pointing to where they headed. Soon you were already making friends, especially with that one Ashido girl from the hero course who wanted so bad to find her soulmate. You wanted to tell her who it was but you couldn’t make exceptions, you guys weren’t even friends for long. 

Eventually, right when the class was going into the pricing lesson, Ashido immediately jumped on you to show her where her soulmate is. So, her first initiative for today was to drag you to her table for lunch. You met the nicest people ever, the first 10 seconds that passed were great. But your pink-haired friend had already cut to the chase.

“Here, just point me to where my string leads” She said as she slid you a 500 yen coin. You took it and pointed to the kitchen, your eyes trailed from her finger to where the string led, presumably outside a window or something.

She squealed, “Okay, now do them next, they’ll pay” she said as her other friends, except Bakugou, leaned in with interest. 

You chuckled and said, “Sorry I can’t. My teacher said I can’t offer services ‘til my business is official. My pricing itself isn’t complete either. I’m thinking of doing an up-front price along with a price according to how far the trip goes for them to find their soulmate. This of course will include an all expense pair trip if we ever leave the country or go on a far trip. It might be expensive for a lot of people but I really want to show them to their soulmates. I’m thinking of refunding them a portion if they cancel but if I keep doing that the business will get nowhere and no one will find their soulmate. I’m also really concerned for the people who might not have as much money so I’m thinking that the prices shouldn’t be that high. Hmm, maybe I should-”

“Geez, Y/N calm down. You’re starting to sound like Midoriya there with all your rambling” Ashido interrupted, “But I get it, you don’t have to. Dang the business course is though” 

“Not as tough as the hero course though. At least then you’ll be hella rich and I can help all of you find your soulmates”

 “Great!” She chirped. 

They all went back to their food, and out of curiosity you looked at their hands. seeing the red string on either the left or right pinkie. But one caught your eye. There was a set of hands, no red string on neither the left nor the right pinkie. You looked up at who it belonged and were met with glaring red ruby eyes. You got a good look at him, his spiky ash blonde hair. He was pretty attractive, sad he doesn’t have a soulmate though. His glare seemed to get sharper and so you had to stuff your face in your bowl if you didn’t want trouble. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Whoopsie, how’d you get into this situation? Backed up into the wall of an alleyway by this beautiful blonde. This blonde is of course mad and glaring at you like you stepped on his dog.

You did, however, find out who this man was. Bakugou Katsuki. From the sludge incident. Got the highest score in the practical entrance exam. He also got chained to a block of cement when he won gold at the sport’s festival that you couldn’t attend, not wanting to watch the strings get trampled by your doing the task given. As well as getting kidnapped by the League of Villains during the hero course’s camping trip.

You don’t know why you didn’t recognize him, not really paying attention to what all others do. But now you truly felt sorry for the guy, going through all that, probably blaming himself for All Might’s retirement, and not having someone to call his own. You don’t have to date your soulmate, and sometimes soulmate relationships fail, but it’s hard when they’re the perfect fit for you. 

This man didn’t have a perfect fit. I mean, neither did you but you were fine with making people happy, and you haven’t endured half this man has. 

“Let me ask you this once, why were you looking at me funny?” he gruffly demanded answers

“You sure you wanna know?” you asked nervously

“SPIT IT OUT WOMAN” he slammed his fist next to your head

“You don’t have a soulmate!” you said out of impulse

His eyes widened and his angry demeanor went away, “What?” he mumbled

“You don’t have a string” you clarified

“Well I don’t fucking need one, “ he puffed his chest out, “soulmates are bullshit anyway, don’t wanna have to trust someone like that, they’ll just become a weak spot”

“Well you wouldn’t think that when you tip over and self destruct in anger at yourself for stuff that’s not you fault” you commented as he neared you dangerously

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about”

You sighed as your lips pressed to a thin line, “Maybe I don’t, but no one will if you keep it to yourself”

“I’m fine with that”

“Sure” 

He must still be in shock, you just know he’ll add it to the baggage sooner or later. You had to do something about this, he doesn’t deserve it, before he could walk away you called out, “If it makes you feel better I don’t have one either, most people with my quirk don’t have any either”

“Why would that make me feel better?”

“I can cut some string and tie it to you if you want, can’t force a good relationship though”

“No, I don’t want anyone else’s partner”

“Fine then,” you pondered, how could you help this guy out? 

“Lunch. Tomorrow” he stated and left

“Huh? Okay I guess” you said hesitantly. At least it was something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You rubbed your arm nervously. It was a Saturday and you had asked Mina for his number, where he confirmed to meet outside your dorm. No one really cared that a hero course student was coming over, instead everyone used this time to do work on each of their own businesses. 

You sat at the small table set up in front of the entrance, it was circular and had a small vase of flowers at the center. You then heard a grunt and footsteps getting louder. You turned and saw Bakugou grumbling to himself as he made his way to you.

He plopped down on the seat next to you and before the awkward silence could commence he spoke up, “Why the fuck do you want to help me?”

You chuckled, a smile had danced on your lips, “Right to the chase, huh?”

His glare just hardened.

You felt your hands get clammy, “Heh, well, it is my future job. I want to make people happy”

“So you’ll just change peoples soulmates if someone pays you? Seems pretty shitty”

You gasped, feigning exaggerated offense, “I do not! For each alteration to strings I lose a year of my lifespan,” you explained

“So you’re willing to lose two years of your life to get me a soulmate?” 

You nodded

“Why?”

You sighed, you contemplated whether to take his hand in yours sympathetically but decided against it, instead opting to lean forward and lower your voice, “You’ve been through a lot more than most people should at your age, I just think you would be good with someone who will fully understand you. But, now that I think about it that may be difficult so that’s why...” you trailed off

You realized how no one will fully understand him, he’s a really complex person from what you picked up. You let out a small ‘Huh’ when the thought came to you.

You looked up when you heard him sigh, he mumbled something under his breath along the lines of ‘I cant believe I’m doing this’

“Look, you can’t just take someone else’s soulmate, it won’t work out for me or that person” He then groaned, “and it’s not like you have a soulmate either so...”

You looked at him puzzled, trying to put two and two together. When you did, you had a big shit-eating smirk on your face, “What are you trying to say, Bakugou?” You asked smugly

The infamous ‘tch’ was heard when the reddening on his ears proved true to your suspicions, “Wanna go out sometime?” he begrudgingly offered

You giggled. This hotheaded blonde, known for being aggressive and somewhat the villainous type, was asking you out to a date after two conversations. One was admittedly intimate but only two conversations nonetheless

You figured, why not ply with him for a little bit? 

“Hmmm... Nah, I’d rather waste two years of my life”

He growled, “Stop playing around! You’re lucky I’m even asking you out, I normally hate everyone. Plus, you can’t just connect me to some stranger!”

“We’ve had two conversations, we essentially still are strangers”

“Fucking- CALL ME KATSUKI THEN”

You froze in shock. He really was serious about this.

“...Why me?”

He relaxed, ready to give his explanation, “You’re probably the only one who gets an inkling of how I feel because of what I’ve gone through. Everyone else either holds it against me or thinks they understand me”

“Well then-”

“Alsoyou’recute” 

You paused again, you saw his flushed face but it was nowhere near the steam coming from the boiling pot that was your head. 

“Uh, y-you too I guess”

“Yeah I’ll see you next week, we’ll get dessert after lunch or some shit, whatever girls want to do on dates”

You scoffed at the stereotype, “Yeah, whatever you have my number,” You saved him a wink which was what made everything worth it for the sight of his face that now matched his eyes.

Part 2 cuz this ends too abrupt but its long already

[famouskittychild]

Cheeky Mandos - Five: Coming home

.

Word count: 2828

Summary: They’re coming home! They’re coming home... a visit to home and facing some important questions.

Rating: M

CW: multiple references to sexual activities, relationship talk, references to polyamory (OC's parents) and open relationships, some angst, pining

Author’s note: Lots of pick-and-choose world building here. I mostly disregard / am not familiar with Legends except for the language, I love languages ( *insert Penny loves steak* gif here) and there’s barely any canon/also am not very familiar with whatever there is so I made up what I would like mandos to be; which is a very open and egalitarian society with a focus on family that comes in many forms (and is sometimes a single person with five tookas, other times it’s your three buir’e, your five vod’e and about thirty cousins.). Din is so alone and his covert has (had? :( ) to fight so hard to survive, I gave my Armourer a big, loving family and a community that fared much better.

.

Series: Prolouge - One - Two - Three - Four (NSFW Din/Cobb special)

Cheeky Mandos - Five: Coming home

**

When you get back to your covert, you leave Djarin behind as soon as politely possible. You need your friends, you need advice, and you need company that isn’t confusing you.

You find your friends at Thlolla’s place; they have small ones so the rest gather at their quarters, scattering in the kar’yai’s couches and on pillows on the floor. You commed them before you got back. They would’ve gathered anyways for the occasion that you came home, but your message made sure that everyone showed up for at least a little chat.

They know what it is all about, of course. They know you well enough. They saw the shiny armour. It’s easier than putting two and two together.

“It’s basically like putting one and one together” Tav winks at you, and Hill’it smacks their back.

“You are so bad at math, that’s the only thing you could ever calculate” and you all laugh at that because Tav is terrible with numbers.

All the couches and floor pillows are occupied as your friends and some of their families lounge around the karyai of Thlolla’s home. You stretch out on the soft rug, resting your limbs on as many people as you can. You missed them dearly. Jama, who has your left leg draped over his knee, rubs your calf before speaking.

“So. What is your problem, mate?”

He knows you the longest. You lived at the same covert from the time you were entrusted with your own rifles, moved three times, and only separated years later after you both went through your verd'goten. His clan is the reason you still have the same accent as him when you’re tired or angry: that was the first time you were around more people than your immediate family.

You let your thoughts linger on the past because it’s safer than the present. Or the future.

“No problem. Just the usual ‘I’m an idiot, innit’ situation.” You pause, and try to swallow your regrets. “When was I good with choices?”

There’s a collective sigh and rolling of eyes, but you can’t help to feel that way and voice it. All your friends have found their places a long time ago. Some on their own like Haika; others have families, some with children like Thlolla does, or with partners of some kind. Except you. To-Ran, Tav’s foundling, crawls over to you and leans against your chest. They have been formally adopted by their current clan only recently and probably feels you are in something of a similar situation. You squeeze their shoulders reassuringly.

“Let’s be honest, hun” Jama says, “Neither of us has the burden you do. We don’t have to vanish off to space for weeks at a time, or if we have to, we can work together.”

That is the crux of the matter. Unless you get with another Armourer, your professions would pull you apart.

“I’m just thinking… maybe it’s because I was alone for quite a while now. I just latched onto the first person that came along and stayed for a bit.”

Hill’it pulls up an eyebrow before answering.

“Maybe you need a friend so you won’t feel so alone.”

There are small ones in the room hence the careful wording, but the adults understand the added meaning. They offer friendship, yes, but the definition of that word can vary. You aren’t sure how outsiders do it exactly - you have met people who have definitely had a more stricter separation between friend, person to have feelings for, and person to have sex with, than your people do. But they didn’t seemed to navigate things any better, so you stick with what you know and what worked.

But your people, at least those you know closer, tends to deal with problems head-on. You can’t fight well if your thoughts linger on problems in your private lives. You were thought early on to face your doubts and fears and anything that could be a distraction - and how that includes feelings and libido too. How people have needs for emotions, attachments and intimacy, that those varies, each their own way and degree. And that these are some of the things that can spur people to make rush decisions the most. You and your friends watched others make those mistakes and made some yourselves too.

Life thought you that if you have people around to talk to and to hug and to trust, you wont jump on a stranger you’ve barely met and feel attracted in some way just to fulfil those needs. You can wait until you get to know them, until you actually want them for themselves, and not just for the feelings or the intimacy, emotional or physical.

*

Hil’it is a good partner, familiar and fun, and tonight, extra caring. You wake up together sometime way before dawn, and the worry must still be on your face.

“Rivets for your thoughts?”

You sigh, and try to gather said thoughts. You remind yourself at another hard learned lesson: talking about a problem is often half the way of solving them.

“I’m just wondering… “ you start, than your words stuck in your throat.

“..what if it works out?” Hil’it smirks at you, lips pulled into a lopsided grin as they rest their head on their arm. You furrow your brows in disapproval.

“No, don’t try to derail the conversation. What if I say something, or do… and he takes it as an offence?” You stop their objections before they could open their mouth fully. “I’m serious. He was sent on this… mission. From high up. Pissing him off can have political consequences.”

“You mean that he could take your advances the wrong way and exact vengeance on your clan, or even the entire covert?” They look at you with an eyebrow raised. Put it like that, you know that’s not very plausible. “We are talking about a vod who was basically ready to enter your service and accept any of your terms, after seeing you for the first time three minutes prior when you said ‘hey I’m a wandering armourer, I visit some coverts sometimes’ - all so he can reach more of our people.”

“Yeah… he won’t turn on us just because I make him feel a bit uncomfortable.”

“Not very likely.”

You nod, glad you managed to voice your worries.

They lean their forehead to yours, and you share a breath, the tradition as old as the Creed. Hil’it than tugs on your arm, pulling you closer onto their chest. You scoot over and snuggle up beside them with your back to them, their arms around you and resting their hands on your chest. You sleep much better until dawn.

*

Three of your buirs live at a smaller enclave some distance from the main hub of the covert. You go over to them for breakfast after Hil’it leaves for her job early. It’s only Tis-buir who’s up, as usual, pattering about in the kitchen making long breakfast just as you expected.

He pulls you close and touches your helmets together. He didn’t need to wear his helmet in his own home, or even his armour, and definitely not at this early hour, but he got into the habit since you became a Master. His set was forged before you were born and you’re grateful that he’s still around, together with your other buirs. Every time you get home, they seem to look older and older though. You wonder whether part of your panic about relationships comes from the dread that they might not be able to give their blessings to you.

“How are you doing, ad’ika?” he asks, and the way he says it is always with so much more meaning than people usually throw that question around. When Tis-buir asks it, he means it. He wants to know if you have any fears, if something bothers you, if there’s something that made you happy but don’t talk about it because you think it’s too insignificant to talk about. You hesitate, and that’s an answer in itself that he understands. “That bad, eh?”

He chuckles and steps away, back to the steamer. He checks the rice cooking there before turning back to you.

“What is it, cyare? Pirates? More beskar thieves? Or that stowaway getting in your way while you work?”

Your helmet is on so he can’t see your face, luckily, and you’re quick to deny anything.

“No, it’s not that. It’s something more… personal.” You could just end the conversation, like you often do when you don’t want to trouble your buir’e, but you came for advice. You nudge yourself mentally. Better to spit it out - it’s nothing to be ashamed about catching feelings after all. Your buir’e told their stories enough times to know they have no problem hearing about the topic.

“Oh. So, it’s about a special person. And they are.. an aruetii?” He asks, and he keeps his helmet on still, to allow you to do the same. As much as you’d like to see his face, it’s better this way.

“No, it’s… he follows the Creed too.” You admit, and your stomach is doing a flip. It’s entirely different talking to your family about this. With your friends, they’d just say their opinion and you can take it or leave it. With your aliit, you want their approval.

Tis-buir nods slowly, weighing your words. Then he reaches for his helmet and takes it off, placing it on the shelf near the counters that is there for this purpose. He leaves his scarf on, the handwoven fabric soft around his white hair and beard. You may take off your own helmet now, and you do that, placing it on the shelf beside his. You turn your snood down from your head and fold it back around your neck. He’s smiling at you.

“Shall I put two and two together, or…?”

“Why does everyone want to do math around me all of a sudden” you mutter under your breath, turning your face away in embarrassment.

“Because your friends and us know you well enough, Buy’ce’ka” he winks at you while stirring one of the pans; he knows you met your friends last evening. Using your childhood nickname brings a smile onto your face. You took into your head to became an armourer the moment you touched your first helmet. You wore it all the time even though you didn’t needed to and told everyone who would listen that one day you’ll be making buy’ce’se, helmets, yourself. Even some of the tutors called you that instead of your real name.

You go to help with breakfast. It’s not the usual simple fare but the multi course, heart-warming, belly-filling affair for a special day. You remember with a sudden pang how Djarin is probably having ration bars on his own in a sparse guest room, or maybe some porridge if he remembers to go to the communal dining hall. You somehow hope he has company, even if he is fine with solitude. You are too, but you have all these people to recharge with. How alone is he?

You almost burn the mushrooms while getting distracted. You focus back on the food, and as the house slowly stirs awake, the members of your family show up one by one and greet you over stirring pots and chopping vegetables. When all is ready, Tis-buir calls to table and you move everything into the karyai. The heart of every home where most of life happens - eating, living, receiving guests, defense during a battle - is a spacious room, and you only half fill it.

It’s only your three buir’e who live here now, and one of your vod’e lives next door. She comes over with her riduur and their usually grumpy teen who fails to hide how happy they are to see you. You don’t even make an attempt to hide anything and after touching foreheads, you pick them up and give them a hearty squeeze.

“Ba’vodu! I’m not a child anymore to just pick me up like that” they grumble after you put them back down, and you pat the top of their head.

“You’re going to need to grow a little more, vodu’ad.” You smile at them, but they suddenly go nervous.

“Are you going to come home to my verd'goten?” they say, face solemn and showing them older than they are. You see this often: the fears of a foundling, someone who lost their roots once already. The little things that a person born into a mandalorian family would never worry about rear their head in them, and you hug them close.

“Well that’s an unnecessary question. Why wouldn’t I?!”

They make you promise to come back, and you let them make a reminder of the date and time in the form of a holo message on the comm of your vambrace. You have made their first helmet years ago and they barely can hold themselves back for a few minutes before asking about the possibility of vambraces. Their new pair, forged to include pieces passed down at both side of their family’s, are hidden in the house, finished months ago, waiting for them to prove worthy to receive them.

You wouldn’t miss the occasion for the world. You’ve been there for all your vodu’ad’s, the children of your siblings; and even some of your younger cousins and unrelated ade in your clan. As you eat with your aliit, your thoughts go back to Djarin again. He must be missing that foundling he was responsible for. Who does he have for family? He mentioned some friends who helped him through bad times lately. You hope he’s on the comm with them right now, using the covert’s better equipment to reach them after having to do with what the Brick has for weeks.

*

You spend the day chatting, visiting the elder of your clan and more family, and one of the old warriors of the clan too, to receive her last blessings. She might still be alive the next time you visit home; she might not. You are thankful for being able to say goodbye to her. You visit the Forge last, and help out with whatever work needs doing with the other masters, until it’s time to leave for the dock.

You almost start to make excuses to prolong your stay before steeling yourself. Twenty-four hours, a standard day, that was the schedule you agreed on with Djarin. Unless he comms you that something came up on his end, you’ll leave in the evening.

*

The first thing you spot in the hangar is the shiny armour. That suit looks good at every angle, at any distance. Than you feel your ears flush when a little voice says in your head how that might be partially because the person under it makes it look good. You try to shove the thought to the back of your mind.

As you draw near, you can see he’s talking with your elder Thrilla. Your heart does a double-beat as all your thoughts from before come flushing back for a moment. No. They must be talking about his mission, not you. And he’s basically clan-less, or at least elder-less. It’s good to see him seeking the guidance of an elder too.

He’s standing in that hip-twisty way you’ve seen him do, with one hand on his belt. It’s a strangely relaxed and playful stance from a person who’s usually as focused and sombre as him. Thrilla glances up at you, the black of her visor glinting in the blue and green helmet. Than she shoos you away with a barely visible battle sign, turning back to Djarin. You’re a bit surprised, but make yourself scarce. Than you spot a grey head near the cargo ramp of the Brick. It’s Kad, Thrilla’s riduur and a mechanic who had helped to rebuild your ship. You go over to greet them before getting on with the preparations to leave.

This time you two will be away for longer and will travel further away. The trail to known coverts had dried up, and from now on you will be going by uncertain informations and rumours. You have experience in that, but the fact that he used to be a bounty hunter should help. You often spend days just trying to pinpoint which spaceport, which town, which mountain or cave or farmstead is the one you are looking for. You hope his expertise will help.

Your hopes are proven right. He reduces the hunting time to hours, and you scramble to finish preparing your tools and equipment.

“Nice job, hunter” you smile at him. His helmet turns towards you and he nods.

“You’re welcome, armourer” and you hear the smile in his voice too. Than you mentally chase away the butterflies that suddenly seem to have taken over your stomach.

.

.

.

[purplesauris]

Our Hungers Appeased

Lambert hates the Path, and those who set him on it. He hates the people he meets, the stares and jeers. Only one person is strong enough to stand against him, to give as good as it gets. Guess who?

Read it on AO3 here!

Life as a witcher was shit. It had been when he started, and it was still true years later, when people spat at his feet and tried to back down on pay. Not that he was inclined to let them- he needed coin as much as anyone else did and wasn’t nearly as concerned with how people saw him. If they saw him as a half wild beast snarling at anyone who came close, well, then they stepped a bit softer. And if they were scared of him? That was all the better for him. It made people leave him alone, and that was all he wanted on the Path.

When he’d met Jaskier the first time he’d expected much the same, but thinking back, it’d been dumb. Here was a human who’d hiked up a mountain just to spend time with a witcher. He wasn’t expecting Jaskier’s wit, or the strength in his fist when Jaskier had punched him when he was being an ass. He was probably Lambert’s favorite human, and had held the spot for the last year. When the snows melt in the spring, Lambert will begrudgingly admit to himself that he misses the easy banter of his family and their newest addition.

                                                          -*-

Lambert is down by the coast, hunting down a pack of drowners when he happens upon Geralt. The contract is a small one, and it won’t pay him much past bare supplies, but he hardly finds anything else in the springtime. He can hear singing when he’s heading toward the alderman's house, drifting from the tavern, and he ducks inside before he can think better of it. His eyes scan the room quickly, and he spots Geralt tucked away in the corner. He almost turns and leaves then, but the music screeches to a halt and he hears someone yell his name.

“Lambert!” He glances over at the voice and finds Jaskier weaving through the crowd, lute quickly slung behind his back. He isn’t prepared for Jaskier’s full onslaught, and he can feel his face heat when Jaskier draws him into a tight hug. Lambert isn’t sure what to do, but Jaskier is pulling away before it gets any worse and Lambert relaxes a little. “Come sit with us. What are you doing out here?”

All of Lambert’s intentions of leaving are ruined, and he follows Jaskier to the table where Geralt is watching the two of them. He nods his head toward Lambert in greeting and squeezes Jaskier’s hand when the bard slides onto the bench next to him. Lambert plops himself down on the other side of the table and pointedly ignores the barmaid that comes over to offer him a cup.

“Had a contract. Couple of kids were snatched up by drowners.” Talking about it out loud reminds him that he needs to go get his payment, and he almost backs out to do just that.

“Awful. Good thing they had you here, hmm? Another witcher to save the day.” Jaskier winks at him, smiling, but Lambert doesn’t feel heroic. He feels used- tossed away when not needed and dragged back out only when his blade is useful. He knows that Jaskier doesn’t mean anything by it, but anger surges up his throat and he scoffs. Better than the words he’d meant to say. Still, Jaskier’s eyes are sad when the bard looks at him, and Lambert tenses, waiting. The emotion is wiped away quickly, and he glances up when someone in the crowd calls over to them, demanding a song. “Sorry, I’ve got to finish my set. Don’t leave before I’m done.”

He rolls his eyes at the request, wanting to leave now, but if there’s one thing he knows it’s that one doesn’t ignore a request from Jaskier. Lambert resigns himself to staying in the crowded tavern, breathing as little as possible to avoid smelling everyone fully for a little while longer. Geralt’s eyes track Jaskier’s movements as he entertains the crowd, and the back of Lambert’s neck crawls. He can feel eyes on him, and he isn’t sure whether it’s someone in the crowd or just Jaskier, but his fingers twitch to draw his blade and he has to take a deep breath to calm himself.

“I need a favor.” Lambert’s eyebrows go up, and he stares incredulously at Geralt.

“ You need a favor? From me?” Geralt rolls his eyes, sighing, and Lambert holds back another smarmy comment. He seems serious this time, and Lambert has never seen him quite this tense. “Spit it out then.”

“Jaskier has a competition. My contract takes me the opposite way.”

“And?” Geralt’s eyebrow twitches, and Lambert delights in seeing him uncomfortable this way. Realization dawns on him far before Geralt says what he wants, and Lambert’s smile is shit-eating as he leans back, crossing his arms. “You want me to take your bard.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t trust him not to get into trouble?”

“No. It’s springtime.” Geralt’s scent spikes with irritation and worry, and Lambert rolls his eyes.

“Alright, the bard can come with me.” Relief washes over Geralt’s worry, and Lambert holds back a sneeze. Why does it have to smell like grass? Jaskier’s set doesn’t wind down for another hour, and by then Lambert is practically squirming in his chair. The alderman is going to think he didn’t come back and stiff him, he can feel it. Just as he’s about to say fuck it, leave to get his coin, Jaskier bows to the crowd and ducks out of their view. Jaskier’s cheeks are pink when he comes back over, and Geralt gives him a little nod when he tilts his head. Jaskier’s answering grin is blinding, and Lambert frowns. “What are you grinning at?”

“You. Geralt said you’ll take me with you.” The other man seems very pleased at the news, but Lambert frowns harder. His chest tightens uncomfortably, and he isn’t sure if it’s because of the intimacy they have or because he’s been inside too long.

“Are you two telepathic now?” Neither of them answer, instead sharing another look before Lambert shoves back from the table and stands up. He hears murmurs behind him, people turning to look at the commotion, but Lambert is heading for the door before his shoulders can shake. Once outside his chest loosens by a fraction, and he finds his feet taking him toward the aldermans house. The old man is waiting on a bench outside and rises at the sight of Lambert. His face is impassive, but Lambert can smell the acid scent of the man’s angry disappointment. After all, if your problem is solved and the witcher doesn’t come back, who do you have to pay?

“The job done?”

“Would I be here if it weren’t?” His reply is more snide than it needs to be- he can hear Vesemir in his head, scolding him for being abrasive. Nice has never gotten him anywhere, and he snatches the bag of coin out of the air when the alderman tosses it to him. Immediately Lambert can tell it’s too light- they’d agreed on more than double this amount for the drowner nest. “Hey prick, this isn’t what we agreed on.”

“Aye, and you came back without proof. So you won’t get a copper more.” Lambert snarls, fingers curling tight around the near empty purse, and his fingers ache to draw his blade.

“Is there a problem?” A smooth voice pipes up, and Lambert’s skin crawls. Now there’s going to be a scene. “You weren’t thinking of going back on your word, were you?”

“I don’t believe that it’s-” Lambert’s blood is boiling still, but he recognizes when Jaskier steps up, lute strapped across his back and pack on his hip.

“Oh but it is. See, my friend here has done you a service, a very dirty one at that, and I think he deserves to be compensated accordingly, don’t you? You wouldn’t want witchers to stop coming here, would you?” The threat is easily veiled, cheery even, but Lambert’s heart kicks up nonetheless. The alderman looks between the two of them, Lambert snarling with anger and Jaskier smiling politely, and grumbles under his breath. Jaskier holds his hand out, that same smile on his face, and Lambert watches in stunned awe as the alderman slaps a much larger coin purse in his hands and waves them off.

“Be glad to see you leave.” The alderman turns from them, clearly disgusted, and Jaskier hums in delight. He calls their goodbye to the retreating man's back and turns to Lambert, expression soft.

“Here. I think it’s best we move on, hmm? Where’s your horse?” The other coin purse is pressed into his hand, and while Jaskier seems to think better of it, he touches Lambert’s upper arm lightly. The touch makes his anger come to a startling head, overstimulated, and Lambert trembles as he turns stiffly to go collect his horse. Jaskier doesn’t touch him again, doesn’t say a word, and he follows Lambert out of town quietly. Which, given Geralt’s talk and Jaskier’s personality, is surprising. He stays quiet for the first two hours of their trek, and it isn’t until Lambert sighs, grip loosening on the reins, that Jaskier speaks.

“He was an ass.” His tone is light, but Lambert scoffs, kicking at a rock on the path.

“I don’t need your sympathy.”

“Well it’s a good thing I have none for you.” That hurts, digs into his heart and wrenches, and Lambert’s grip tightens on the reins once more. Leather creaks dangerously, and Jaskier takes the reins from him, shushing the horse and easing the tension Lambert was putting on the bridle. Lambert can’t stand to look at him right now, especially not after what he said, but Jaskier walks backwards and watches him. “I have plenty of other things, though, if you’d like that.”

“What, annoyance?” Jaskier chuckles, and Lambert has to concentrate to keep the scowl on his face. It’s hard to stay mad at the bard when he’s just gotten him a hefty amount of coin without violence.

“I can do annoyance, if you’d like. I could do fury, or melancholy, or weeping sadness.” Lambert wrinkles his nose, anger trickling out of him slowly. “I don’t know what it’s like to be you.”

Jaskier admits this quietly, and Lambert looks up to see him glance over at the water, fidgeting with the reins in his hands. When he turns back his eyes are half lidded, and something new heats in Lambert’s abdomen. He isn’t sure he likes the way his fingertips tingle. “You threatened that alderman.”

“Hmm? No, no I merely pointed out something he didn’t want to happen.”

“Do you do that for Geralt?” He isn’t sure that Geralt needs anyone to do that for him, charming bastard, but Jaskier laughs and turns to walk correctly. Tired of looking back, it seems. Lambert just lengthens his stride to catch up and walk beside the bard.

“When he lets me. He usually just takes what they give, so long as it’s close.”

“Dumb fuck.” The words are out before he can stop them, but Jaskier laughs, nodding in agreement.

                                                             -*-

Lambert has no clue how to take care of someone else. He’s not used to having someone else with him, so when they finally stop for the night and Jaskier goes to gather firewood he’s taken aback. All of his most hated tasks, like fetching wood or clearing a spot for their bedrolls is taken over by a very efficient bard. When Lambert goes to shuck off his armor for the night he finds Jaskier waiting, fingers plucking at the clasps easily and taking each piece as it comes off. Lambert isn’t sure whether he should thank the man or feel unnerved that he helped, so he settles on doing neither. Jaskier doesn’t wait for thanks anyway, collapsing onto his bedroll with his boots still on. He’s asleep before Lambert even goes to hunt down something for dinner, snoring softly, and Lambert can’t imagine being that relaxed. Or trusting that his travel companion doesn’t want to kill him.

He’s still asleep when Lambert comes back, two squirrels in hand, but rouses at the sound of Lambert’s soft footsteps. “I’ll get them.”

“Get what?” Jaskier is already pulling a dagger from a sheathe under his doublet that Lambert hadn’t seen and reaching a hand out for one of the squirrels. Lambert hands them over in silent confusion, and watches as Jaskier skins them with little problem before handing them back to be cooked. “Geralt makes you do all this?”

“Doesn’t make me do anything. S’fair, is all.” Jaskier is still half asleep, and he cleans his knife off before tucking it away again. Lambert isn’t sure what to say to that, so he focuses on the scent and sound of the squirrel cooking, and passes Jaskier his portion once it’s done. Jaskier takes a moment to squeeze his fingers in thanks, and Lambert can feel the tips of his ears burn.

For as much as Lambert bitches when Jaskier takes longer to rise than he'd like, he grows used to Jaskier's presence quickly. He barters with the contract holders better than Lambert could dream, and manages to get him rooms when sleeping outside is so much easier. He can see why Geralt let him tag along in the beginning, and why he loves him so much now. Not for doing these tasks, but for being here, willing to do them and not backing down when things don't go the way he'd like. It's part of why Lambert firmly ignores the niggling of something in his chest that is definitely not positive feelings. When Jaskier leaves him two weeks later, he isn't sure what to do on his own at first. Setting up for the night takes longer, and he catches two squirrels automatically now. He's well fed at least, and he can't quite bring himself to stop. Just in case.

They meet again in the high of summer, when Lambert is busiest, and he almost tells Jaskier to travel alone. He doesn’t want to take a detour to drop him off somewhere, but Jaskier has no destination in mind. Rather, Geralt does, and he leaves Jaskier in Lambert’s care with a stern take care of him . As if Jaskier needed someone to take care of him.

Lambert is asleep one night, curled up tight on his bedroll when he hears Jaskier sit up suddenly. It isn’t unusual for him to wake up- they both seem to have a hard time staying asleep, but it’s different this time. Jaskier’s heart races in the quiet of the night, and Lambert hears him sob quietly, muffled through a hand. Fuck. Crying people aren’t his strong suit, and he considers closing his eyes and falling asleep again as if he’d never heard him. But that wouldn’t be taking care of him, so Lambert sits up with a groan. Jaskier’s noise cuts off immediately, and he looks over to see Jaskier with his back to him, staring into the fire. Something twists in his stomach at the metallic scent of Jaskier’s sadness. “Hey, get the fuck over here.”

Jaskier jolts, looking over his shoulder, and he shakes his head, smiling weakly. “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

Lambert watches him as he turns back, shoulders trembling, and he hoists himself off the ground. He plops himself on Jaskier’s bedroll, stretching his legs out and resting back on his hands. He isn’t sure he should touch Jaskier, but one hand is behind the bard, creating a cradle that Jaskier leans back into slowly. Hesitant, as if any minute Lambert will shove him away and tell him to get over whatever it is that bothers him. Instead, Lambert scoffs and tugs the man closer, only relaxing when Jaskier burrows into his side. He doesn’t know what to say and Jaskier isn’t providing anything to latch onto, so he sits there until Jaskier’s crying stops, patting his arm gently.

Jaskier doesn’t mention it in the morning when they get ready for the day, and Lambert isn’t inclined to press. If Jaskier wants to talk to him about it then he will. Jaskier seems better though, after having slept against Lambert’s side, and how he can smile the way he does after crying all night is something Lambert can’t figure out.

“Let’s stop at an inn for the night.” Lambert dislikes the idea of being in a crowded inn, trying to sleep with the sound of other people around him, but… Jaskier seems so hopeful, so he grunts and nods his head. Jaskier gives his bicep a light squeeze, and Lambert focuses on the touch of Jaskier’s hand until he pulls away. When they get to the next town Jaskier goes to find them a room while Lambert heads for the notice board. There’s plenty of work to be done, but only one fit for a witcher to take. He follows the scent of lavender back to the inn, and finds Jaskier in the stable brushing down the horse. Jaskier glances up before Lambert has even announced himself, used to the near silent steps of a witcher.

“Got a room?”

“Yes! The innkeep was very pleased to have us. Business is slow, I suppose. Find anything worth noting on the board?”

“Contract for something digging up graves. Either nekkers or a hag.”

“Going out now?” He nods, digging through his pack and pulling out what potions he thinks he’ll need. Best case, it’s a human desperate enough to grave rob, worst case it’s a hag. Either way, Lambert doesn’t want to deal with being unprepared, and he reaches out to pat Jaskier’s shoulder as he passes. His stomach twists when Jaskier’s smile grows, and he leaves again before he can further embarrass himself. He’s not someone who does casual touch, can stand it even, but Jaskier has gone and done something to him. Something that makes his heart ache and stomach flip into knots whenever Jaskier does anything kind. Which seems to be all the damn time.

The trudge out to the cemetery is grueling in the heat, and when he gets there he can tell right away that no human has done this. There are freshly dug graves, the soil soft from claws digging into it, but no trace of nekkers. The little shits have no qualms about being active during the day, but he hears no scurrying of small feet and none of the bodies are actually dug up save for the hands. Which are… fingerless. Great. Lambert looks around a bit more until he finds a small house, leaning up against one wall of the cemetery and swaying comically in the wind. How no one has spotted it before is a mystery to him, and he wants to set it on fire at the first glance. A grave hag’s hut. Hags won’t come out in the daytime unless desperate, so Lambert hunkers down behind a headstone a few feet away and waits for night. Twilight has just fallen when he hears heavy wheezing and the staggered walking of gangly, too long limbs. Lambert’s eyes snap open, and he draws his sword silently.

There, crawling from the house and stretching, is the monster. Its body is a large mass of grey, wrinkled skin with long, slender limbs, and Lambert wonders if he were to cut the limbs off, would it roll? He stands from behind the grave, casting quen to give himself a bit of protection as he lunges, rolling just under the tongue that shoots out in his direction. The hag smelled him long before she saw, and Lambert rolls again when she screeches and lunges for him with razor sharp claws. Her claws catch his side, tearing against chainmail and leather, but he’s unscathed for the most part and retaliates with a vicious sweep of his sword. It severs two of the fingers on her hand and sends her screaming, clutching at steaming flesh.

Lambert isn’t one to dance around, so he takes the offensive, slashing and shoving through blows that could have been dodged. The grave hag does everything she can, yelling and snarling and lashing out with lightning speed, but Lambert lets all of his anger, any frustrations pouring from him into the fight. Vesemir had always warned him it made him vulnerable, but it serves him well now, allowing him to cut the hag down with a sword through the chest, ending a fight he’d thought would take much, much longer. This time, Lambert takes a trophy, intent on getting his coin without Jaskier’s help.

He treks through the city reeking of rotting flesh, the hand of the hag clutched tight in his fist. The alderman takes his sweet time opening the door and tries to close it upon seeing Lambert’s face. A foot in the door keeps it firmly open, and Lambert holds out the hand, ignoring when the other man recoils.

“There was a grave hag stealing fingers from the bodies.” The alderman looks over the hand with suspicion, as if Lambert had taken a random hand from a body. He doesn’t have much to stand on- the skin is obviously not human and the fingers are freakishly long, tipped with large claws. The alderman drops the hand in the dirt, nose wrinkled, and dips back inside to grab a bag. Lambert can hear the coin clinking together inside, and he holds a hand out for it. The bag is dropped into his hand, and Lambert’s fingers close around it before the man can fully pull away. His hand jerks back away from Lambert, face screwing up in disgust, and Lambert scowls. “Next time there’s a shack in the graveyard, get a witcher sooner.”

“Aye.” Lambert turns on his heel and storms away, snarling when he hears the alderman spit into the dirt. He’s in a pisspoor mood already, but the innkeeper almost bars his access to their room and by the time he argues enough to be let inside he’s fuming. All he wants is to get out of his armor and get some sleep for fucks sake. The room is bright when he opens the door, candles lit in every nook and cranny Jaskier could find, and Jaskier is sat by the fire, scribbling away in his journal. He looks up when the door opens, smiling at Lambert and closing his book with a snap. He stands up, smile waning a bit when he sees the angry red flush creeping up Lambert’s neck.

“What’s wrong?” Lambert shakes his head sharply and Jaskier leaves it alone. He comes over to help Lambert with his armor, tugging and removing pieces as they go along. Lambert feels better with the armor off, less pressed in, but Jaskier’s fingers slide over his side and he grabs his wrist on instinct. Jaskier doesn’t react, but Lambert’s grip is tight and he can feel Jaskier’s bones grind. He relaxes his fingers one by one, snarling, and he expects Jaskier to back away from him. To kick him out. But Jaskier only frowns. “Lambert-”

“Why do you do this shit?”

“Do what?” Jaskier seems confused, and Lambert snarls again.

“Constantly touch me, help me with shit and insist on arguing with people for my sake?”

“Because I care for you, you dolt!” Jaskier’s voice rises, his concern turning to annoyance, and Lambert growls angrily. He’s not sure what he’s doing, demanding answers, but he’s so sick of people using him and he just wants it to stop.

“I don’t want you to!”

“That’s too fucking bad! You don’t get to choose who I-” Jaskier is cut off when Lambert snarls, leaning forward and smashing their lips together. Jaskier goes rigid all at once, and Lambert is hyper aware of his rejection. He goes to pull away, lets go of Jaskier completely, but Jaskier surges forward and kisses him again. Lambert’s skin itches madly at the heat that licks through him, and his hands clutch at Jaskier’s sides. Jaskier’s fingers grip the material of Lambert’s shirt, twisting it, and Lambert hoists Jaskier up. He isn’t sure of what he’s doing- he’s angry and hurt and he shouldn’t be kissing Jaskier, but here he is. Jaskier doesn’t seem worried- his thighs go around Lambert’s hips, holding more of his weight, and he gasps when Lambert stumbles, Jaskier’s back hitting the wall. Lambert feels himself growl when Jaskier bites his lower lip, and Jaskier laughs softly. Lambert kisses him harder for it, presses him bodily into the wall, and doesn’t let him down until Jaskier begs.

What they did last night comes back to him in bits and pieces in the morning, and Lambert's heart clenches painfully in his chest. He's had lovers before-  brief flings or visits to a brothel, but never with some he knows has someone waiting for them. What makes him feel worse isn't that he's betrayed Geralt, but that he wanted to. To have a bit of the happiness that Geralt always seems to get. To have someone who wants him, and doesn't have to be paid. That's what makes his heart lurch uncomfortably in his chest, because how is he going to face Geralt next? He's drawn from his thoughts by a hand sliding low over his stomach, tickling around scars and threatening to dip lower. Warmth pools in his stomach immediately, but he grumbles softly as Jaskier goes up on an elbow.

His neck and shoulders are a mess of bruises and bite marks, but if he's sore he gives no indication and Lambert draws him down for a kiss. Jaskier's hand stops then, fingers splaying over his stomach, and he focuses on deepening their kiss, morning breath be damned. Lambert is the first one to pull back, and his voice is rough when he speaks.

"Hell of a night, Jask. You okay?" Just this once, he tells himself, will he show concern, raising a hand to brush over some of the marks he left. Jaskier leans into the touch, smiling.

"Never better. You?" Lambert takes a second to think. Besides the guilt eating away at him now, his anger from last night has petered off, let out in other ways, and other than being pleasantly sore he can't complain.

"Counting my last hours closely."

"Hours? I'd say you have more than that left."

Lambert scoffs, pressing on one of the bruises and pupils dilating at the breathy moan Jaskier lets out. "Not once Geralt sees what I did."

"That's what you were thinking about, wasn't it?" Jaskier leans down, catching his lips in a bruising kiss and pulling back sooner than Lambert would like. "He's not going to hurt you. He did tell you to take care of me."

"That's a shit excuse and you know it."

Jaskier sighs at that, sheepish, and he shrugs. "I meant to bring it up to you last night, after you'd gotten back. Geralt uh, knows about my affections, let's call it that. I would have told you sooner, but someone was being a prick last night and kissed me before I could say a word."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh would be about right. You didn't do anything wrong, or that Geralt and I didn't talk about. And," Jaskier muses, looking down at him. "I'm going to need help when the next full moon comes, I think." Lambert grins at that, laughing until Jaskier leans back down to kiss him breathless.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #451

“taste the waste of their god’s grace & spit your hate upon your young”

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube? A shitload of people. Do you like to go to the farmer's market? Yeah, sure. What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be? Probably black. What's your favorite melon? I don't really like melons, actually. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :( When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? Literally every day. Seriously. It's funny, I dread fighting to sleep at night, but I also just want it to be time to sleep so time will pass. My life is just so fucking boring that I just... wait for something exciting to happen. Name one person you've never had a fight with: Tez. What are you currently listening to? "Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment. What would you rather have: cat or dog? I prefer cats. Who is your least favorite person in real life? Probably my sister's husband. Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really? I'll sometimes watch live let's plays. Does your house have security cameras? No. If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be? I'll be dyeing it. What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened? I'm not sure. What soundtrack do you listen to the most? Silent Hill 2's, definitely. Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult? I don't know if it's really a secret, but I didn't know until this year that my dad did some really dangerous drugs before us kids were born. Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you? Yes. What’s something you like to have many options to choose from? Food, ha ha. Feels great to have a full kitchen after a grocery trip. What’s the strangest decorative object you own? Nothing "strange" to me. What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now? One biggie is having a baby. I just... could not imagine. My life would plummet. What’s been your proudest moment? Graduating in the top percentile in my high school graduating class. What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen? Omfg, Sausage Party. That movie was so gross. Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals? Thankfully, no. I don't even think I could befriend someone who doesn't like animals. Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts? No. Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal? Yeah, like me with whale sharks. Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer? Not really, no. Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills? Amy Lee's. And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand? Yeah, such as Bob Dylan. Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf? Tui T. Sutherland, but only because I read their series Wings of Fire. Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? I'm sure on Facebook at some point. Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? Does the freezer count? If so, this Healthy Choice grilled chicken pesto bowl I have in there. I am like addicted to them. Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? I don't know. If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? It varies month-to-month. Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to? I had my Markiplier tattoo essentially redone by a better artist. I also plan on getting my "ohana" tat covered, as well as my "how rare and beautiful it is to even exist" one (I adore the quote, but it's not an original design, which I don't like having anymore), and I want to move and redesign my "perfectly flawed" one because I want a bigger tattoo in its location. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind? Yeah; I'm pretty sure I like-like my friend Girt now, something I was never entirely sure about. When was the last time you did something on a whim? *shrug* Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you? Well, I guess both, but Dad didn't do a lot of the teaching part about life and stuff. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’ Yes. Colleen tried that with me and Girt and only succeeded in making us very uncomfortable. She said something I wanted to slap her for that I won't repeat. What is your card game of choice? Magic: The Gathering. What is your favourite books series? I think my favorite series of all time was the Shiloh trilogy. I adored both the books and movies. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? You'd better give me landmarks, ha ha. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Of course. What was your favourite gym class moment? There're such things as GOOD gym memories in school? Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yes. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? No, I always thought it was very flattering that they even wanted mine. Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie? The Phantom Virus one. I had the video game as a kid, too. Could never beat the damn thing. Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down? No? I don't like seeing children - or anyone - fall. Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past? So, this really only happened once, and it was coincidentally the day I learned of her pancreatic cancer, but before Mom told me. I had an assignment to interview someone of an older generation about how various sources of media affected their lives, like the development of TV and such, and she really got into it. It was very interesting to learn about. Do you have a crush on someone? I guess I do idfk. If so... what does his/her name begin with? "D." What attracts you to them? More than anything, the fact he's been there for me without fail. Both single and when I was with Jason and he was interested in me, he's just... been there and has made an effort since high school to be in my life in one way or another. Do they know that you like them? Not anymore, no. We dated for a few months, but I broke up with him because he felt more like my brother, so I would assume he doesn't think I do. Maybe he still is family to me. I really don't know what I feel. If they don't know, why didn't you tell them? I might at some point, idk. We just haven't talked in a while. Name two people that you miss: Jason and Megan. Have you ever seen Titanic? When I was in the hospital, yes. Everyone was crying, lmao. Have you ever swam with dolphins? No, but I would. When was the last time you had a stomachache? Now. Mother Nature finally visited me after three whole fucking months and is v angry. What's going to bed early for you? Like 7:00. Do you want to have a big family in the future? Of pets! Human kids ain't for me. What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? Hell if I know. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes. I got Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? I did on my second dosage. I was OUT of it the day afterwards, but then I was fine. What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself? I need new bras badly. What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? It's called "Not Just A Pet Rock (Python regius)" and is a group for advanced ball python husbandry. It is very informative, but I will say there is a SHITLOAD of very rude elitists. Do you like your butt? Why or why not? NO because it's a PANCAKE and I want CAKE. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? I personally think so. When Sara visited and we were trying to go to my older sister's so she especially could meet her, Ash entirely ignored Mom's messages. I know her homophobic husband well enough to nearly be able to guarantee he didn't want us coming over because the kids "don't need to see that." Ash kinda does what Nick says, so... you know. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I know I'm happier with pets. Who was the last person you went on a date with? Sara. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. What’s your favorite way to curl your hair? It's too short to do that. At what age did you start swearing? However old I was in 7th grade. What is something you physically can’t do? Clean up vomit lkdsjal;sdkjfa;lkwd. I can't clean up my pet's or even my own. I literally can't. My mom has to. What do like better, apples or oranges? Apples. I don't like oranges. Around the holidays, do you hope for snow? Yes!!! What are your top two favorite bands? Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica. How many people do you 100% trust? Like two. Maybe. Do you care what others think about you? Way too much. Has anyone ever called you a bitch? My grandmother has. Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger? Omg yes, I was obsessed. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat? No. Not because I don't want to, because I do, but I would have an extreme protein deficit if I did that. Besides meat, I don't like enough protein-rich foods. Have you ever had a rolling backpack? Yes. Did you make any money today? I haven't made any money in a very, very long time. I'm only ever paid when someone hires me to take pictures for them. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? I don't know. Definitely not very high. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Yes. What was the last souvenir someone got you? I have zero clue. Do you have a favorite remix of a song? Hm. Perhaps this techno-y remix of "Psychosocial" by Slipknot. I don't know for sure, though. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Either the violin or piano. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Nope. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)? Probably clouded leopards aesthetics, but I think lions overall. If you had $500,000, what would you do with it? Pay off school debt as well as help Mom with various financial issues, buy new glasses, buy Mom and I a new house and car, get Venus a great tank with all the optimal supplies, get LOADS of tattoos, donate to various charities, adopt a few specific pets, travel to Yellowstone, get laser hair removal on my legs and teeth whitening... There are a lot of possibilities. Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid? Just scaly ones. :') "First loves are never really over." Is this true for you? Yeeeep... Did you like Michael Jackson before he died? I didn't really have an opinion on him. I know/like a couple songs, sure. What are some things that would make you break up with someone? If they became abusive, started doing drugs, acted arrogantly, didn't understand my mental conditions and were unwilling to be emotionally supportive, stuff like that. What was the worst breakup you've ever had? Ha, the one with Jason. For. Fucking. Sure.

[transjinako]

Hey! Another servant and this time is Fenrir! 

Avenger: Fenrir 

Alignment: True Neutral 

Parameters: 

Strength: A++

Agility: A

Endurance: B+

Luck: E

Mana: B

NP: A-

Traits: 

Divinity A Madness Enhancement C Oblivion Correction (Gleipnir) C-  Self Replenishment (Magic) A

Skills: 

Divine Jaws A-: Fenrir is said to be the being that will end the world in norse mythology, who will devour both Odin and the earth and sky whole. Due to their ribbons however, their jaws cannot extend that far, however they do still contain traits of anti divinity in them. More applicably, whatever these jaws bite down on can only be destroyed at the end. 

Hopeless Howl B: A bone chilling roar from when Fenrir was bound, any and all who hear this cry become completely demoralized and will feel as though they are being weighed down, leaving them helpless to the wolf’s assault 

Shapeshifting C: A rather simple form of Shapeshift that just allows for Fenrir to grow parts of their body closer toward their original world ending size. 

Presence of the End (Fenrir) A-: A personal skill of Fenrir that marks them as a world ending being. Upon activation all things that Fenrir attacks has a higher likelihood of being mortally wounded to killed, they break through most magical defenses with ease and release a sort of energy into the air, degrading anything it touches physically. However, with the ribbons, this skill can’t truly reach it’s pinnacle, otherwise any non divine or protected thing would simply crumble away in the presence of Fenrir. 

Noble Phantasm(s) 

Gleipnir, Gjoll, Thviti: 

Type: Anti Self

Rank: EX

Description: The chains disguised as ribbon that bind Fenrir. With these strange colored ribbons wrapped around their body Fenrir’s parameters are lowered as well as their skills. If these were to somehow be broken, Fenrir’s Oblivion Correction would spike to EX, forgetting about all that they have experienced and move to end the world. 

Gjoll and Thviti are the stake shaped rocks that can be used to hold Fenrir in place if needed. While an enemy could possibly get close enough to use this against them, Fenrir capitalizes on their bindings. In battle, they make good use as both blunt and piercing weapons, the ribbons can be used as well, as they are much heavier than they would appear. 

The River Van 

Type: Anti Humanity Anti Army

Rank: B-

Description: When Fenrir was bound, their spit created the sea known as the River Van in norse mythology. As a being that brings forth the end, this spit becomes more volatile and eats away at life in a matter of seconds, akin to the Chaos Tide. While under the effects of Gleipnir, this is weakened considerably but can still be used as a deadly attack. 

Description of Servant: 

Fenrir is a massively sized wolf like creature, though definitely not your average wolf, its teeth are like trees, rows of razor sharp teeth that have thorn like bone protrusions coming off of them. Their fur is like clouds, billowing, stormy flowing in all directions as if it has no form and there is only a will keeping it together. Their paws have two sets of claws, one on each toe and 5 above it made for mauling and maiming. Along side that, bright yellow eyes within dark irises that dig into the soul. Despite the fear one might feel in their presence, the wolf is definitely beautiful, though its clear that time has worn on them. 

Fenrir is also able to use a human form if they should so please, large imposing androgynous human with hair flowing down their back reminicent of their fur and the same eyes. Their limbs are still animalistic and hold the traits of their clawed paws, except now theyre hands. A bit unwieldy with their claws but they get the job done. This form as well holds the god like beauty one could find in Fenrir’s wolf form, but its only more clear on a human face how worn down they are. 

Fenrir can talk in both forms in an imposing yet intelligent manner, they don’t boast often but they are prideful and will take any challenge that would grant them more fame head on. While they are smart, Fenrir is a wolf through and through and will usually go with their instincts on most issues, although they don’t like that about themselves. The reason for that is because they are naturally trusting, even when it has burned them horribly in the past, when first meeting someone Fenrir will always try to be cold before allowing affection to shine through. 

Interactions with other servants:

Hessian Lobo: That wolf that calls himself king is glaring yet again. Its a little annoying to be honest, what fame is there to be gained from kicking this poor dog, hm? I feel some sort of connection though, so, maybe we should allow our teeth to do our talking. 

Gorgon and Kingprotea: The extremely large snake woman is something to behold, I had to stop myself from seeing how her snakes tasted...ah, you saw when….well. It would be...poor of me to act like an animal in front of a child, a giant one at that. It was quite a sight though, a massive snake woman and a massive mossy child trying to pet me. In the end, I guess me and the snake woman have an...agreement, when it comes to that child. 

Martha: Rise up, brother! Will you simply allow this holy woman to keep you in her chains? Will you endure her bondage any longer?! Come, I will snap you free my-ah, huh? Oh? You...like her? I...hrm...thats...a little disappointing, you know... 

Red Hare: ….Master. While I understand your wish of not having me challenge the other chaldeans….that...that thing...if you bring him near me, I will eat him. Whats my problem? Hes completely strange is the problem! Its creepy! 

Atalante Alter: *Sniff sniff* *Sniff sniff* Hmm, I smell that woman again. She’s just plain senseless, instead of backing off already she keeps challenging my space. Tch, I’m itching to fight now…huh? Oh...! Fine, I’ll play nice yet again. Don’t blame me though, if I have to knock an angry kitty down a peg.

5+ servants that are animals/have animals with them: Are you by chance amassing a Zoo, master? Everyone in the animal quarters are just as odd as their owners, I swear, and I’ve had to fight for my space against the oddest things. Oh, though it was rather unexpected, the service here is nice. Even I enjoy being lavished like a god~

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 32 - Moral Support

Author’s Note: Eyyyy! Guess who's here with a surprise bonus update! This girl!!! Michigan's weather pulled through and landed me with a day off! No classes! I was going back and forth on /weather/ I wanted to celebrate with a bonus chapter, and then I remembered that this chapter is shorter, so it works well as a bonus chapter! Yay!!

Chapter Summary: Quantics & Co find out what Gabriel did.

First | Previous | Next

Marinette hadn’t slept well. When she’d gotten home, she’d fallen asleep immediately, but not long after she’d been awoken by a sense of panic.

She’d worried about Adrien, wondering what was wrong, but it was about time for patrol by then.

He didn’t show.

She figured that he needed a break. She didn’t bother him, and took Allan on patrol with her as planned. She’d explained a few things to him that were important to know, but besides that it had been uneventful.

It’s morning now though, so she can text him.

She’s worried about him.

 This number is no longer in service.

 What?

Now she’s really worried. She doesn’t have time now though so she gets ready quickly and rushes out the door. It’s too cold for her to research on her phone, so she just tries to get to school as quickly as she can.

As soon as she’s inside, only a few meters from the entrance, she takes out her phone. First she checks the news, maybe something happened-

 Paris’ Sunshine Boy Off the Market!

 Paris’ favorite teen model, Adrien Agreste is dating! In an official statement by the company, the public was informed that the boy is dating classmate Lila Rossi! She…

 Marinette feels sick. She can’t read the rest of the article. No wonder he didn’t show up for patrol, he must have been told yesterday. Chloe had been right too, going by the number change, he’s no longer allowed to speak to them.

Oh, her poor kitty.

She doesn’t realize how upset she looks until someone taps her shoulder.

“Are you alright, Marinette?” It’s a girl from one of her classes. She can’t remember her name at the moment, but she’s nice. Goodness, how many people has she worried by standing here freaking out?

People care about you.

Right. It’s not a problem that she’s upsetting people. There’s no need to worry her about someone she doesn’t know though.

“Y-yeah. I’m-m fine,” she smiles softly to try and sell it better.

The girl hesitates, clearly not believing her. Before the girl can decide if she’s allowed to point that out, another girl’s voice joins in the conversation.

“No. You’re not,” Allegra soothes. Turning to the girl, “Thanks Olivia, I’ve got it from here.”

The other girl - Olivia, that’s right - nods, smiling at Marinette as she goes on her way.

Allegra walks with her to her locker, “What happened?”

Marinette’s head is still spinning, She doesn’t know how she feels about this. Sad? Worried?

She settles on righteous fury.

“Gabriel Agreste,” she spits out the name like the disgusting thing it is, “is an atrocious, monstrous, detestable dirt bag, and I hope he steps in a muddy puddle with only socks on.”

Allegra’s face becomes oddly blank, “Not that I disagree, but what did he do this time?”

Marinette passes her the phone with the article open, “I think he’s not allowed to talk to us anymore, his number got changed.”

They’ve arrived at the library. Allegra’s grip on the phone has tightened, but her face is impassive. Sitting at the table, Marinette puts her head near the edge of the table, letting her arms hang limply off the side.

“So, Allegra is clearly plotting a murder and Mari is …tired? Can’t really see your face, sweetie,” Claude observes as he joins the table last.

“I’m too tired t’ be angry, but I’m too angry t’ be tired,” Marinette groans from the table.

“Yeah, about that. Al’, maybe try not to break ‘Nette’s phone?” Allan suggests. The girl’s grip on the phone has only tightened since she first acquired it.

Felix places a bookmark in his story carefully, closing the book and giving the group his full attention, “What is it that you are both so disturbed by?”

Marinette remains silent, but Allegra takes a moment to breathe. She turns the phone around so the phones can read it, “Gabriel Agreste, but what else is new?” her voice has a cutting edge to it.

A warning.

The others take a moment to read the screen.

“There’s no way that’s legal, right? You can’t just… force your kid to date someone, right?” Claude breaks the silence first.

Allan simply sits in horrified silence.

Felix keeps his face neutral, “I suppose this has to do with why his number is no longer in service? I had assumed I had simply missed him informing us of it’s change.”

“Proba’ly,” Marinette agrees.

“This is- I just-” Allegra pauses, considering her wording, and speaking carefully, ”Everytime. I think. He can’t get worse. He does.”

“There has to be a way we can get to him, right?” Claude looks at the others, “Some way to talk to him, but still not get him in more trouble.”

“I can an’ will break int’ that house if I need t’,” Marinette mumbles.

Felix hums thoughtfully, “I may have a way. 

---

“Greetings. I am here to see Adrien Agreste.”

Felix stands alone outside the mansion, staring at the camera that inspected him.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“I previously did not need one. I was in possession of his phone number, but it was changed without notice. Such an inconvenience is a hindrance to our project, which my father does not appreciate.”

The camera retreats, and the gate swings open. Felix walks up to the door, which opens as he reaches it, revealing Nathalie on the other side.

“Mr. Agreste wishes to speak to you,” she gestures to the office.

“Very well.”

He enters the office to see Gabriel presumably working on a design, focused on the screen before him. Without looking up, he addresses Felix, “Why are you here?”

“For the same reason I came previously. As I explained, Adrien and I have been working on a project to prepare ourselves to run our respective companies. It will also provide good press if all goes well.”

The man doesn’t respond so Felix continues, “I was well aware of his busy schedule, so we worked mostly over the internet. Imagine my surprise when his number is changed without any warning. Now I am unable to contact him, and had no choice but to see him in person and interrupt what I am sure is a carefully planned schedule.”

The man looks him over, “Adrien’s number was changed because his girlfriend informed me of some troublemakers being a bad influence on my son.”

Felix bristles, “Excuse you? Are you suggesting that I am a bad influence on your heir? My father would be furious to hear you speak that way of a Voclain.”

Gabriel seems to understand, realizing what his actions and words implied. “Of course not, I simply had Adrien’s number changed. It was for the best to get him out of contact with those miscreants as soon as possible. I did not think-”

“That much I can see.”

Gabriel narrows his eyes, “Perhaps I should contact your father and get his opinion on the matter.”

Felix raises an eyebrow, “Why is that? Is it that you do not respect me or my points because you are my senior? I will have you know that Voclains build their own reputation. I am not to be respected simply because I am Charles Voclain’s son. If you are incapable of working with and having high regard for those younger than you then your company will not last much longer. My Father understands this, and would be deeply offended that you felt the need to bypass me to speak to him. He is a busy man and does not have time for you to call him simply because you are incapable of recognizing me as anything beyond a child. I am an accomplished individual of my own right and will be treated as such.”

“Fine. You may meet with Adrien. Talk to Nathalie to schedule any future appointments, because I do not wish for anyone more to have his number. I cannot trust his judgement when it comes to giving out his contact information, it would seem,” Gabriel allows. When Felix gets to the door, the man continues, looking at him seriously, “I would hope it goes without saying that when you do visit him, you are not to bring any of your little friends with you.”

Felix just looks at him. “There are no friends in business.”

Gabriel seems satisfied with that. Felix doesn’t bother to point out that he isn’t in the business world yet.

Nathalie leads him to Adrien’s room and knocks, “Adrien, you have a visitor.”

Adrien doesn’t respond, but given the blank look on his face when he opens the door he wasn’t expecting anyone good. His eyes land on Felix, who speaks before the other boy can question anything, “I am here to continue our work on our project. Your father does not wish for me to have your contact information because he is an imbecile, and it is miraculous his brand has lasted this long. Nevertheless, I am flexible. We will have regularly scheduled appointments from now on.”

Nathalie and Adrien take a moment to process this. Felix enters the room, and turns to Nathalie, “Please do not bother us, enough interruptions have occurred already.”

“Adrien will have to get ready for fencing in two hours,” the woman manages.

“As I have stated I am aware of his busy schedule. Do not bother us for those next two hours. I can show myself out.” With that, Felix shuts the door, locking it for good measure.

When they’re a little further from the door Adrien looks at him oddly, “Uh, what project?”

“The same project I came up with to give you an excuse to come to Claude’s plotting session back in November.”

“Oh. So, uh, why are you here?”

“We saw the news. None of us think that your relationship with Ms. Rossi is consensual.”

Adrien pales, and his eyes glaze over. Felix puts a hand on his shoulder to bring him back to the present.

“We are upset, but not with you. Mr. Agreste and Ms. Rossi should not be able to get away with this.”

“It’s- it’s fine,” Adrien mutters, “She already had everyone believing we were dating before, so there’s not much change there. I just can’t talk to you guys now, that’s all.”

“We disagree, but we do not wish to do anything that would risk further isolation. Marinette threatened to break in, Allegra was looking into setting up an ‘accident’, Allan seemed like he was looking into staging a kidnapping, and I have known Claude long enough to be aware that the look on their face today is a dangerous one. This way seemed safer.”

Felix’s anecdote has the desired effect, and Adrien smiles. Good.

“If you would like, I could call the others, they are all at Marinette’s awaiting my confirmation that you are alive.”

“I would. It’d be nice to see them,” he sounds nervous though, which is perfectly understandable.

Felix dials the number, as the two sit on the couch. The others pick up immediately.

“Adrien!” All of them shout at once.

“Hi guys,” he waves at them weakly.

“I regret the limitations of humanity’s technology because I can’t give you a hug right now, but I really want to give you a hug!” Claude laments.

“So do I!” Various agreements echo from Marinette, Allan, and Allegra.

Allegra gets A Look™. ”Of course, only if you want a hug. We’d make sure you’re comfortable first.”

“Of course!” Marinette joins in.

“Neither of you are subtle,” Adrien remarks.

“They weren’t tryin’ t’ be,” Allan says.

“Gabriel is going to pay,” Marinette adds darkly.

“Guys, it’s-”

“Not fine,” They all interrupt, Felix included.

“How are you holding up?”

He sighs, falling back onto the couch and looking at the ceiling. “I don’t know. It feels like the usual, just… more extreme.”

“Oh, honey,” Allegra frowns. “That’s almost worse.”

“Yeah, if your ‘usual’ includes a forced relationship, complete isolation from anyone who cares about you, and-” Claude begins.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Marinette frowns, grabbing her own phone and typing into it hurriedly.

“Any other restrictions we should know about?” Allan prompts.

Allegra cracks her knuckles, “Yeah, we gotta’ get to work finding work arounds.”

Marinette mumbles to herself. Claude glances at her screen and points at a few things. She nods, adding to a list beside her.

Adrien leaves her to her plotting. “Yeah, um… she decides who’s a ‘bad influence’, she’ll be planning our dates and Nathalie will schedule them, and she can track me through my phone-”

“She can WHAT?!” Allegra snaps, “That’s absolutely not okay!”

“I have to agree, all of this is many steps past the figurative line of what is okay,” Felix adds.

“I mean, Father and Nathalie could already track me, and she’s really just another one of them, just at school now.”

“Alright!” Marinette interrupts, looking up from her phone and holding a list, “Clearly, the solution here is to fake your death and give you a new identity from scratch. So-”

“That is somewhat extreme, Marinette,” Felix says.

She ignores him, “So, here are your options for your new names. Obviously, you don’t have to choose from these, but they’re suggestions. Ethan, Lucas, Adde, Davey, Derrall, Lennon, Lewin, Lowell, Adam, Anderson, Anthony, and Tonya. Now I have to admit that some of them don’t seem to fit you but one, this is an early list, and two, I think too much of your life has already been composed of what other people think of you. Also, because you’re you, and I know you’ll have thought this at least once, no, I wouldn’t stop you from naming yourself after an anime character.”

“Mari, I’m not going to fake my death.”

“It’s an option though!”

“It is a rather complicated process,” Felix points out.

Marinette shrugs. “I know people.”

“What does that mean?!” Allan stares at her worriedly.

“Anyways,” Adrien interrupts, “If it’s that much work for a first name, imagine choosing my last name too-”

“Oh, but I’ve already figured that out,” Marinette informs him, “You can have mine.”

Various ‘oohs’ escape from the group, and Claude wipes an imaginary tear from his eye, “That was the most beautiful proposal I’ve ever seen!”

“I’m sold, time to become legally dead.”

Felix sighs. He shakes his head, but he’s smiling.

---

Author’s Note: This chapter was so much fun, I had and absolute blast! Felix is such a star here, and I loved writing him here. Look at my boy! Look at him! So precious!

I've finally started writing something I've been planning something since November, which is exciting. It's weird to be so close to the end. After this, A Shy 'Sparrow' will become my primary fic. I'll still write for these guys though! I have another (short) chaptered (or at least more than a one-shot) fic planned for after the events of With Time.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

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[vikingschristiansff]

Chapter Seven

*4 months later*

To the girls the four months that their husbands were gone went by far too fast. It was Christmas Eve when Olivia had seen their ship approaching as she was drawing in the castle tower. She ran down the many flights of stairs, through the castle halls, pushing past anyone that was in here way. She bursted through the door of Leith’s bedroom, huffing from the lack of breath.

“Their here,” she shouted once she caught her breath.

Leith put down the book she had been reading, “who’s here, darling?”

“The Vikings.”

“That’s not possible,” she said confused. “Bjorn told me plan, he said that they would be back the day after Christmas. They wouldn't want to be here for a Christian holiday.”

“Maybe they wanted to get here early, and ruin something else for us.”

“Get the other girls, I’ll find father, we will meet them at the dock.”

“No!,” Olivia protested. “They’re here early, they are going to ruin Christmas. Why should we accommodate them? Treat them like they are wanted here?”

“Everyone has to things they don't want to, Olivia,” Leith was irritated. She understood that Olivia was upset, she was too, but it was useless to complain about it. “Now go get everyone, and meet father and I outside.”

* * * * *

There were far less people at the Vikings arrival from France, than at their departure, as this arrival was premature. By the time the ship arrived at the docks it was rather late, so Ewan and Hamish went to greet them and allowed the girls to go to bed.

“Well, this is quite the welcome,” Bjorn joked as he stepped off the ship.

Ewan laughed, “Your early. I thought you wanted to arrive after our Christian holiday.”

“That was the plan,” Bjorn replied. “I expected our journey to take a little longer than it did. We will still leave for Kattegat on the day we had planned.”

“The girls will be relieved to hear that,” Hamish spoke.

“Speaking of the girls, where are they,” Ubbe asked.

“They were here, but I told them they could go to bed. The need to rest for the festivities tomorrow.” Ivar rolled his eyes at Ewan’s response. “It’s quite cold, let us go inside,” the king continued.

The king and queen’s families were visiting the castle for Christmas, so Ewan informed them that they would have to sleep with their wives this time.

Luckily for them the girls were already asleep by the time they entered the rooms. They were all exhausted from the journey and did not want to have to speak to them.

The next morning the Vikings all woke up in bed alone. Servants were sent to wake them, and informed them that Hamish was waiting in the library to brief them on what would be happening during the holiday.

“The king would like you to join the festivities tonight, it is important to show the important people of Scotland that this deal is working, and that our people are allies,” Hamish said as the men took their seats in the library.

“We don't want to celebrate your stupid christian holiday,” Ivar spit back in response.

“You are excused from the church service, we are not asking for much,” Hamish relied, he was not having any of Ivar’s defiance.

Ivar was about to respond, but was cut off by Bjorn, “That sounds reasonable.” Bjorn’s word was final.

* * * * *

By the time that they were done with their meeting with Hamish everyone had already gone to the church service. Hamish had informed them that, because of the holiday, the service would last quite awhile and the party would start once it was over.

“How have you been?,” Bjorn asked, walking up behind Leith once she entered the ballroom.

“Fine,” she replied coldly.

Bjorn cleared his throat, he had expected her to be cordial like she had been when he was in Scotland last. “I just wanted to let you know that we will still be leaving for Kattegat on the day we had originally planned.”

“Thank you,” she paused. “What will happen when we get there?”

“We will have to have our wedding ceremonies, but we let you get settled beforehand.” Leith didn't say anything else, she just nodded and sadly walked away from him.

* * * * *

Bridget joined Ivar at a table where he was sitting alone. She had been thinking about there situation the entire time her was gone. How did she know for sure that he was unable to have sex? Of course she didn't want to be intimate with him, but she also didn't want to be responsible for someone losing there baby so that she could have it.

“Have you ever tried to have sex before?” she wasted no time.

Ivar was taken aback, “Are you mocking me?” He asked angrily.

“No.”

He didn't believe her. “Get away from me, Christian bitch.”

“Do not speak to me like that!” Now she was angry. “I am just trying to help us.” She stood up, knocking her chair over in the process, and stormed out of the ballroom.

* * * * *

Olivia and Sigurd had avoided each other most of the night, until Olivia approached him towards the end of the festivities. She handed him a folded up piece of paper.

“What is this,” he asked.

“We gives gifts on Christmas,” she said, her voice still laced with the attitude that Sigurd did not miss.

He unfolded the paper revealing a drawing of himself, looking handsome and powerful. “Did you draw this?,” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” his reply came out more like a question than a statement.

“Your welcome,” she said quickly, turning on her heals and strutting away. She felt weird being nice to him, she still hated him. However, she hadn't stopped thinking about him saying that he also felt ignored. She was secretly hoping that because they both felt ignored by family, that they could give each other the attention they both craved.

* * * * *

Halfdan was angry with himself, and confused. He missed Greer so much, he had thought about her the entire time he was gone. Greer missed him too, but she still did not trust him.

They had spent the side-by-side, but they barley spoke. They wanted to be close, but they both felt wrong about it.

Halfdan was cornered by Harald when he went to get another drink. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Halfdan replied.

Harald scoffed, “Don’t let that Christian make you stupid brother.” He walked away before his brother had a chance to respond.

“Husband!,” Elsie shouted when she saw Hvitserk. He couldn't contain his laughter knowing she was very drunk. Elsie began drinking the second she woke up with the Viking in her bed. She wanted to be strong like Leith, but she was terrified. Even more so now that the departure to Kattegat was just days away.

“Hello wife,” he chuckled. She laughed back.

Her laughed cut short, “You will be good to me, right?”

Hvitserk froze, he wasn't expecting that question. “Y-yes,” he whispered nervously.

She began hysterically laughing again, “You are very handsome.”

* * * * *

Ubbe couldn't find Isla at the party. “Leith,” he approached his sister-in-law, “do you know where Isla is?”

“She was feeling tired, she went to her chambers.”

Ubbe thanked her and went to find his wife. As he entered their room, she was exiting the bathroom in her sleeping gown. She looked different: her face was softer, her breasts fuller, and her stomach was formed into a small, round bump.

“Hello,” she said quietly, after a long silence between them.

“Are-are you—,” he began, but was cut off. “Yes,” Isla said.

Ubbe began to walk towards her, she hesitated stepping backwards. Ubbe dropped to his knees in front of her, grabbing her waist and pressing a kiss to her bump. He looked up, seeing tears streaming down her face.

“What’s wrong,” he asked, his voice filled with concerned.

Her face contorted into anger, “Because I am having a murders baby,” she screamed.

Ubbe stood hugging her tight, he knew that her words were due to her fear. “I will do whatever you ask of me, and I will try my hardest to be a good husband, and father.”

@-thatgirloverthere- 

@mdlady

@darkwhisperswolf

[feathers-and-fisticuffs]

Desperation...

[Chapter list HEre]

“I can’t do it!”  Kabu’s voice sounded weak and hopeless.

“Yes you can.  You can do this.  Keep trying.”  A gentle hand on his back, pushing him a little further.

“It hurts...”  He whined.  “Please, I can’t...”

“It isn’t going to get any easier if you don’t push yourself to strengthen your body again.”

“I don’t want to.  I don’t want to get better I want to be dead.”  Kabu hiccupped.

“Don’t talk like that.  You deserve to get better, you can get better.  I know it hurts now but you have to keep fighting.  Don’t let the fire go out...”

He closed his eyes, and let himself fall back, giving up.  He wondered if there had ever been a fire inside him at all.

“Hop was really nice!  He was so funny and he was really good at the game we were playing!”  Basil held Kabu’s hand and babbled on about the sleepover.  “And he had the cutest Pokemon ever!  A Dubwool!  He said it was his service Pokemon and it helped him out a lot.  I don’t really understand what it does but it’s cool!”

Kabu smiled.  “Is that so?  How nice.”  He tried not to let it show that his head was still pounding from hangover.  “I’m glad you two had fun.”

“He said that he wanted to introduce me to the Champion next time!  They grew up together did you know that?”

“I didn’t know that.  It sounds like they’re really good friends.”

“Yeah... I wish I had friends like that.”  Basil’s smile fell slightly. 

“Well you do, don’t you?  Piers and Marnie are your friends, and you and Hop are friends now right?  And Bede, he’s your friend too.”

That made him smile again.  “Oh!  I guess you’re right!  I never thought about that...”

Kabu chuckled.  “You have lots of friends.  And I know you’ll keep making even more friends too.”

Basil leaned against Kabu’s arm happily.  “Nanu didn’t do anything stupid last night did he?”  He asked cautiously.

“No.  He was a perfect gentleman.”

“Oh.”  he frowned.  “Does this mean you’re dating now?”

Kabu sighed.  “Basil, I know you don’t like him.  And I know he’s kind of a jerk sometimes, but I know you’ll like him if you give him a chance.  He has trouble making a good first impression.  Will you give him another chance?”

“I don’t want to.  He’s mean.”  His voice faltered a bit.  “What if he gets mad and hits me?”

Kabu went very serious, and took Basil’s hands.  “He would never do that.  I promise.  And if he did,  I would never talk to him again.  Ever.”  He squeezed his hands.  “Did he do something while I was gone?  What brought this on?”

“No, he was just being stupid.”  He sighed and looked away.  “I just don’t like the way he talks.  He can be scary.”  He admit.

“We can talk to him about it.  If you tell him, he’ll understand.  He doesn’t want you to be afraid of him, he doesn’t want that.”  He pulled Basil into a hug as the taxi came to a stop.  “He won’t hurt you, I swear.  But I won’t make you be around him if you’re afraid of him.”

He helped Basil out and walked with him up to the door.  “And you can always tell me anything.  Or ask me anything.  I want you to trust me.  I won’t brush you aside.”

Basil let him hold the door open and wandered inside, flopping down on the couch.  “What did you mean the other night?  When you two were talking?”

Kabu sat across from him and gave him a quizzical look. 

“When you said you weren’t his dad or your dad.  What does that mean?”

“Oh.”  Kabu rubbed the back of his neck.  “Our dads were friends.  And they were real mean.  And they uh.  Wanted to make sure we knew it.”

“Did they hurt you?”

Kabu didn’t want to scare him, but he nodded.  “Yes.  Sometimes.”  He watched Basil, afraid that he’d be afraid, but it seemed almost the opposite.  He seemed more confident as he prodded the question.

“Did you get away from him?  Did someone help you like you’re helping me?”

Kabu smiled sadly.  “No, I didn’t have anyone to help me like this.  I was on my own.”

“But you were a kid.”

“I was a little older than you actually, but yeah.  Basically a kid.”

“What happened?”

Kabu hurriedly tried to think of a way to dodge the question.  He didn’t really want to talk about it.  “It was a long time ago, Basil.  In the past.  All that matters now is the future.”  

“Oh...”  Basil looked down at his hands then.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  I’m sorry.”  He moved over to sit next to him, putting an arm around him.  “Someday, I’ll be able to talk about it.”  He sighed.  “It’s hard to think about.”

Basil nodded.  “I understand.”  He hugged Kabu then.  “I’m glad you’re okay.”  He said sweetly, and Kabu smiled down at him.

“I’m glad I’m okay too.  Because I got to help you.”  He hugged back.

Basil blushed more. 

“Hey, I uh.  I have something I want to talk to you about.”  Kabu said suddenly.  “I was asked to help someone out, but.  It’s a little complicated, and I don’t want to make any decisions without talking to you first.”

Basil frowned.  “Like what?”

Kabu took a deep breath and explained the situation with the man named Cyrus he had spent the day thinking about.

“If you weren’t here, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”  He admit.  “But, I worry about you.  He’s hurt, he wouldn’t put up much of a fight, but I don’t want anything to happen to you.  No one else wants to give him a chance, but if he wants to change, I want to help him change.”

Basil frowned thoughtfully.  “I don’t know.  He sounds kind of scary.”  He admit.

Kabu nodded.  “Yeah, he does.  Tell you what.  Why don’t I meet him first.  Talk with him, get an idea of what he’s all about, and we’ll go from there?”

“Can I meet him too?”

Kabu paused.  He didn’t want to put Basil in any danger...

“Well... as long as you promise to do exactly as I say.  Especially if something goes wrong.  Alright?”

He nodded dutifully.  “I will!  I’ll be really good!  I want to meet him first too!”

Kabu chuckled.  “Alright.  I’ll make some phonecalls.  Later.  For now, I need to lay down because I am very hungover and everything hurts.”  He admit, rubbing his temple. 

Basil frowned then and rushed off without a word.  

“Uh.  Basil?  Basil are you okay?  It’s alright, I’m not drunk anymore or anything!”  He offered with a sigh.  Shit.  He was gonna have to go deal with that too, he supposed.  He hadn’t thought about that scaring him.  He closed his eyes and tried to make the world stop spinning.

“Kabu...”

His eyes snapped open and he jolted upright.  “Huh?  What?  Basil?”

Basil was standing in front of him, looking serious, holding a cup in one hand and medicine in the other.  “For your hangover?”

Kabu relaxed and smiled then.  “Oh, Oh thank you.  I was afraid I scared you.”

Basil gave him the drink and the medicine.  “I’m not that skittish, jeez.”  He huffed.  “Mr. Rose used to be hungover a lot after parties.  I”m used to it.”  He promised.  “I know you wouldn’t hurt me or anything.”

Kabu smiled and sipped the drink, almost spitting it back out.  “Ugh what is this?  Its awful!”

That made Basil laugh.  “Do you want to feel better or not?  Just drink it.  It’ll work.”  He promised.

Kabu drank it, and lo and behold, he was feeling better later, and Basil spent the day taking care of him, much to his insistence that he was fine.  Though it was nice to have someone around that cared...

************

Kabu made the appointment and helped Basil pack for their trip to the Sinnoh reigon where Cyrus was currently being held.  He could tell that Basil was nervous to travel, he had never been this far away from Galar but Kabu was  going to make sure he had a good time, even if the issue with Cyrus wasn’t going to work out for them, it’d be good for Basil to travel around and see new things.

They did a little sightseeing the day before the meeting, to help Basil feel more comfortable, and it worked wonders.  Kabu was thrilled at his progress, and thought maybe, if this went well, they’d be able to visit his old hometown in the Hoenn reigon next.  He wasn’t sure if he’d be ready to face the memories... but maybe then he could tell Basil about where he had come from. 

The next moring, He woke Basil, and the two of them got ready to meet Cyrus.  He helped Basil with his tie, and he had to admit, even though they weren’t related by blood, the boy looked like a little Rose mini-me in his suit.

Kabu straightened his own tie and led him out the door to the prison, holding his free hand as they were led past the cells of mean mugging inmates.

“Is Rose here too?  This is for the really bad guys right?”  Basil whispered.

“No, Rose is in Galar.  Leon fought to make sure he wouldn’t go here.”  Though he couldn’t understand why, he wanted to add.

“What about Giovanni?”  His eyes went wide.  “He’s really scary!  I read about him in a book once!”

“Yes, probably.  Not this close to the entrance, though.  You won’t be seeing him.”

“Oh.”  Basil sounded almost disappointed.

The were let into a small interrogation room away from the cells, and Kabu turned to Basil.  “I need you to sit right here outside the door.  Don’t wander, don’t come in yet, just sit.  I’ll come get you if it’s safe alright?”

Basil pouted but nodded, sitting dutifully on the ground with his head in his hands.

Kabu was led inside then.  There was a table in the middle of the room, and Cyrus sat on one end, in a wheelchair.  He looked unhappy to be there, dirty and ragged as if he hadn’t had anyone helping him at all.

“You must be Cyrus.”  Kabu sat down, looking him over.

“I don’t know who you are or what you want but I can assure you, I’m not interested.”  Cyrus had a deep voice, however what he had probably meant to sound angry and intimidating came out exhausted and more than a little frightened.

“Your lawyer asked me to come talk with you.  He thinks I can help give you a second chance.”

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.  They’ll never let me out of here and even if they do, I don’t want your help.  I don’t need or deserve anyone’s pity.”

Kabu’s face softened a bit.  “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

He shook his head and went silent.

“I want to help you, Cyrus.  I’ve heard about how bad they’ve been treating you here.  Trust me when I say I know what an asshole Giovanni can be when he gets it in his mind to mess with someone.  But in order to help you, I need you to cooperate.  I need you to want to be helped.  And I can’t bring someone into my home who could be dangerous.  Do you understand?”

Cyrus looked away.  He didn’t speak.

Kabu sighed then and got up, walking towards the door.  He thought, for just a second, that he heard a small sound come from Cyrus, but he wasn’t sure.  He could have been hearing things.  He opened the door a sliver and glanced out.  “You ready, kid?”

Basil was still sitting next to the door, but jumped up excitedly.  “Yeah!  I can come in now?”

“Not like that.  Take a deep breath, calm down.”  Kabu advised, and waited until he had taken a few calming breaths before opening the door and letting him enter.

Cyrus’s eyes narrowed when someone new entered the room, but the glare turned to confusion when he saw Basil.  “What kind of joke are you trying to pull here?”

Kabu let Basil sit in the chair, and he rested his cane against the table.  Kabu noticed Cyrus taking note of that.

“You’re a bad guy right?”  Basil asked excitedly, trying to stay calm.

“Basil, enough.  We talked about this.”

Cyrus tipped his head curiously.  “Hm.  To you, maybe.  I hurt a lot of people trying to do what I wanted, so I suppose people might call me a bad guy.”

Basil ignored Kabu’s warning.  “Did you summon a big monster to destroy everything?”

Cyrus was caught off guard by this line of questioning, but humored him.

“I suppose you could say that, yes.”

“Basil...”

“Do you regret it..?”  Basil’s voice fell away as he asked, his mind turning to Rose suddenly.

Cyrus watched the two of them, confused at what exactly was going on, and was silent at first.  He didn’t know what to say.

“Sometimes.”

Basil looked down at the table then. 

Kabu frowned.  “I think it’s time for us to go.”  He put a hand on Basil’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry, I should never have agreed to bring you here.”

Basil stood and hid against Kabu then, shaking and feeling weak.

Kabu looked up at Cyrus, noting the utter confusion on his face.  “My apologies for wasting your time today.”  He grabbed Basil’s cane and helped walk him out of the room, leaving Cyrus to sit in stunned silence.

Before the door closed, Kabu thought he heard Cyrus say wait, but he didn’t turn around.

His lawyer stood before them, and older gent with a shaved head and a rumpled suit.  “Well?  What’s the verdict?  Can you help him?  Please say you’ll do it...  If I can’t find someone to assist him, they’ll never let him out on his own he’ll go straight back into the system and these guys will eat him alive in his condition.”

Kabu flinched.  “Wait, wait hold on don’t lay all that out on me!  This isn’t my fault!”  Basil clutched his suit jacket a little tighter.  “I don’t appreciate the way you’re talking to me right now.”

The lawyer was wringing his hands nervously.  “My apologies, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.  I just want to help him.”

Kabu shook his head.  “You can’t help everyone.  You can’t help guys like that.  They don’t want to change.”  He pushed passed the nervous lawyer and helped walk Basil out to the car.  

“Are they gonna hurt Rose?”  Basil finally managed out.  “Is he gonna get hurt like that?”

Cyrus sighed.  “No, dear.  This prison is a bad place.  The bosses run the whole operation, not the staff.  Rose is somewhere safe.”  He promised.  “We wouldn’t let him get hurt like that.”

Basil whimpered and stayed close to him the rest of the day, not daring to let go.  Kabu kicked himself for ever agreeing to let him come with.  “This is my fault, Basil.  I’m sorry.  I knew this would upset you.”

Basil rubbed his eyes.  “It’s my fault.  I shouldn’t get upset.”

“It was upsetting.  I”m upset too.”

“You don’t look upset.”

“I’ve had more practice hiding it.”  He smiled soothingly.  “Don’t you worry.  How about next time we travel somewhere even more exciting, and spend the whole weekend exploring and looking for new Pokemon?”

Basil cheered up a bit at that.  “Okay...”

Kabu cut their adventure short, and brought them home as soon as he could.  He tucked Basil into bed, and sang him to sleep, smiling when Basil let out his pokemon to sleep on the bed with him. 

“You’re gonna run out of room if you keep catching Pokemon.”  He teased.

Basil smiled.  “I’ll just buy a bigger bed.”

Kabu laughed and kissed his forehead.  “Sure kid.  We’ll do that too.”

He went downstairs and crawled into his own bed, but in his dreams, he saw Cyrus.

************

The doorbell rang early the next morning, before Basil had even rolled out of bed.  Kabu put on his housecoat and his slippers and grumpily waddled to the door, still trying to loosen his stiff joints from sleep.  He threw the door open with a growl.

“Nanu, what could you possibly want at this hour!?  I--”

His words were stolen from him as he looked upon the sorry sight before him.

Cyrus, still in his wheelchair, barely breathing, pushed by two young men who looked terrified.

“He said you could help...”

[darlingpetao3]

For Asgard (Chapter 18/?)

Coulson arranges for you to be escorted to wherever they're keeping Loki captive. It's only one guard taking you there but he is a pretty burly fellow, perhaps the biggest guy aboard this helicarrier. You closely follow the guy until he stops outside what you believe to be your destination. When the door slides open you expect him to stay glued to you while in the presence Loki. While in actuality, the opposite happens.

“You have five minutes. Agent Romanoff is already in there interrogating the prisoner. She'll keep an eye on you.” You weren't certain whether that meant “she'll keep you safe from him” or “she'll make sure you don't try anything stupid.”

Slowly you enter the room where S.H.I.E.L.D. has imprisoned Loki. The cell he's in is much smaller and less luxurious than the one you shared on Asgard. Then again, no prison would be as nice as that one. Were you seriously grading prison cells on their interior decor? This one was circular with windows all around. What is it with people and their giant windows in prison cells, anyway?

You can hear Loki talking to someone. When you look up and to the right, there's the red-headed agent you remember piloting the plane. Romanoff. Apparently, they didn't hear you enter the room. Keeping this to your advantage, you move into the shadows and into earshot to hear her voice. It is level, yet demanding.

“I want to know what you've done to Agent Barton,” she says.

“I would say I have expanded his mind,” Loki responds like he's doing everyone a favour. That's an interesting way to put it, you think. Redhead approaches his cell, face expressionless. You can tell she cares about Birdman, but damn is she good at keeping her face neutral. Her arms cross.

“Once you've won, once you're king of the mountain, what happens to his mind?” She moves up close to the glass between them. For some reason you can't place, you don't like this small action very much.

“Is this love, Agent Romanoff?” Loki teases.

“Love is for children. I owe him a debt.”

Wow, hardcore. You wonder what she would think if she knew how much Loki and you love each other. You two might as well be the biggest children here, then. He laughs at her words and backs away.

“Tell me,” he insists, suddenly appearing interested in her supposed debts. A quick look of hesitation breaks through across her face but disappears just as quickly. She goes on to tell her life story of before she worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. From what you gather from Redhead's vague story, she implies she was an assassin. That and Birdman was sent to take her out, to kill her, but ended up not following through. When Loki asks what she'll do if he spares Birdman, she says she won't let Loki out, and you didn't expect her to anyway. But Loki has that look in his eye. You've seen it before. Like he's the cat who spots a mouse just sitting there, and it's playtime.

Redhead says she wants to turn over a new leaf. To wipe out the red in her proverbial ledger. Loki, of course, questions her ability to do so.

“Drakov's daughter... Sao Paolo. The hospital fire.”

That did it.

You don't know what any of this means, but his choice in words did the trick. She's tensed up and has wide eyes full of frozen fright.

“Barton told me everything,” he confesses. “Your ledger is dripping.” Loki approaches the window and his voice grows stronger, more powerful. “It is gushing red, and you think saving a man who is no more virtuous than yourself will change anything? This is the basis sentimentality, this is a child of prayer, pathetic,” he spits out. “You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, have your own code. Something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you. And they will never. Go. Away.” Loki slams his fist against the window and Redhead flinches, something you thought her body wasn't capable of doing. You watch all this in silent awe, mouth just a little agape.

“I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way, he knows you fear. And then he will wake just long enough to see his good work and when he screams I'll split his skull.” Redhead turns in fear and horror and walks a few steps. “This is my bargain, you mewling quim.”

You sit there, hand to your mouth. Is he serious? You hope and wish and pray that this is still just a part of the stupid godforsaken plan. That this is all still an act. Because, yeah sure, he has to look the part of a villain right? That was a part of it? The plan you know nothing about and yet are still told to trust him blindly in what he's doing. But he must know what he's doing, you're sure of it. Loki's evil villain act has been good. Far too good. You almost believed it there for a second.

“You're a monster,” Redhead says quietly, in a small voice. Loki laughs.

“Oh no, you brought the monster.”

She lifts her head and turns around to face him with a look of sudden realization. “So, Banner? That's your play?”

What play? Who's Banner, now?

“What?” Loki says, confused for once.

“Loki means to unleash the Hulk,” Redhead speaks into her wrist. “Thank you for your cooperation,” she says to him smugly and turns to leave. Did Loki just get played?

“No...” he says unbelievingly.

Redhead makes her way to the exit in your direction but you remain hidden in the shadows of an alcove near the door. When the coast is clear, you rush up the steps two at a time and place your hands against the glass prison. Loki turns to see you and is surprised, you think, to see you at a time like this. He moves closer to you, and in return presses his own hands to the window.

“My darling,” he says fervently. “Oh, how glad I am to see you.”

“And I'm glad to see you, too. Only it'd be nicer if you were out of this thing. With me.”

“I could not agree with you more.”

You hear a loud blast and feel the floor beneath you tilt somewhat. You have to grab hold of the railing to regain balance.

“What was that?” you ask looking around the room for clues.

“It would seem the vessel has been shot.” Alarms sound off in the distance outside the prison room. The floor remains at a slant and you feel as if you're inside a carnival funhouse. Except this is not at all fun. Not in the slightest.

And then, reverberating through the vents above, there's a noise that causes the hair on your arms to stand up and make your insides churn. A horribly angry roar.

That's when Loki's lips curl into that smile that only speaks of trouble to follow.

“Loki, god damn it, what is happening? What were you saying to the Redhead earlier about a monster? Who's Banner? And how do you know all that stuff about her? How- no, what do you know about these people?” It all comes pouring out now, you can't stop it. “I've been trying my hardest to stay in the dark here, to let you be the mastermind with all the secrets, but I can't take it anymore! Please, please, tell me something. I'm so confused about everything and I just need to know.”

Loki looks at you with empathy in his twinkling green eyes. “I know this has hurt you, my darling, and it pains me to see you in such a state. Ask me whatever you like and I shall provide your answers.”

“Truthfully?”

“To you? Always. But first, we are in great danger. Therefore, my sweet, before I tell you what you wish to hear, you must help me out of this cell.”

“Yes, of course.” You shake your head with understanding. If this massive flying base is going down, you'll need to free your beloved. Your burning questions can wait just a little longer. After all, you'd rather your questions be burning than yourself. “What do you need me to do?”

“Do you recall the route the guards brought us before we were split up?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“They are keeping my sceptre in the laboratory which we passed upon entering this aircraft. Do you remember the room of which I speak?”

You pull up the image of it in your head. When you had passed that lab, Loki had given the curly haired man inside a funny look.

“I do. I remember.”

“Good. You must retrieve the sceptre for me, my love. Without it, our defence and safety weakens greatly.”

“I'll be back. Hold on!” The ground shakes again, this time with more force. You work up a nice jog once you make it to the hallways of the helicarrier again. Men in uniforms run by you without a second glance. You assume they're probably too busy trying to figure out a way to keep this flying base up in the air and not in a billion pieces smashed on the ground. That makes you feel a little relief. They have their own mission right now and so do you. According to your calculations, the lab shouldn't be much farther-

There it is. You see the weapon in the window up ahead, the whole room turned faintly blue from the stone's growing brightness. It appears the door had been blasted open. An explosion, you deduce, from the shards of glass across the floor. You run to the sceptre and grasp it from the table it sits upon.

Your heart beats rapidly as you stare at it and move your fingers across its golden shaft. This is the first time you've actually held it. You think of all the things it has done, of all the things it could be capable of doing. And it's in your hands.

You need to snap yourself out of it. Leaving the lab, you make a mad dash back to the prison room, all the while avoiding falling flat on your face due to the helicarrier's extreme turbulence. But before you reach the last corner, before you're home free, a shout in a deep voice from the other end of the hallway startles you.

“(Y/N)!”

Your head whips around as you see a hugely built blond man, bewildered as to what you're doing with the sceptre in your possession. It's Thor. For a moment, you two merely stare at one another. Then, you break for it.

“Loki, I have it! I have it! Thor's coming!” you say frantically. A guard you hadn't noticed was in the room grabs you and tries to disarm you, but you aren't having any of that. You push him backwards and slam him against the wall. The man loses his bearings long enough so that you have time to tap the weapon to his chest without really weighing your options. His eyes fade to black but refocus to the colour of the stone's glow.

He is in your control.

“Open the cell door,” you command him. “And leave.” The guard has no choice but to heed your words. As the door slides open, a desperate “NO!” rings out. Thor makes a beeline to stop Loki from escaping and goes in for a tackle.

Only, he goes right through him!

An illusion...

Thor scrambles to his feet but the cell door has already closed on him. He's trapped. The real Loki appears next to you but remains facing his brother.

“Are you ever not going to fall for that?” Loki taunts. This clearly angers Thor as he smashes Mjolnir on the window, leaving a giant crack, but that, in turn, causes the latches on the cell to loosen. Please don't tell me this thing drops from the sky...

“The humans think us immortal,” Loki says with a humorous tone and walks over to the control panel. “Should we test that? Darling, come over here will you, please? Wouldn't want anything dreadful to happen to you would we, love?”

You scurry over to his side and take hold of his arm. You're beyond anxious. Is he really going to send his brother in a nose dive to the unforgiving cold hard ground? This is way beyond the prank he pulled in Asgard at Thor's coronation.

“Move away, please,” says a voice trying to sound authoritative. It's Agent Coulson. He snuck in and is holding the biggest freaking gun you have ever seen in your life. Awkwardly though, like he doesn't know exactly what he's doing with it.

Loki steps back a bit. The gun is aimed directly at him. Your heart is beating and it's out of control. Coulson, the man who was so kind to you earlier, a real genuine guy, is pointing a gun at the man you love.

“You like this?” Coulson says, inching closer. Loki looks worried. He grabs your waist and moves you out of the line of fire, which is too far away. “Even I don't know what it does.” Coulson shrugs. You figured as much. “Want to find out?” Not caring that Loki had moved you aside, you step back in front of him just as Coulson pushes a button on his weapon, lighting it up. He's about to shoot.

And then... You hear a grunt of anguish and a horrible scream. The scream was yours.

Your hands cover your mouth. Loki had suddenly appeared behind Coulson and had plunged his sceptre into his back. Only now, the sceptre is no longer in your hands. How-? His other self, his body double, his illusion was disintegrating behind you, still looking worrisome, while the real Loki let Coulson slide down the side of the wall, leaving a bloody streak as he went down.

You stand frozen with shock and refuse to accept this was happening. But it gets worse. When you finally gather a little courage to face Loki, you find him at the control panel again, with that smile. That one smile. Not the one you fell for all that time ago. No, this one gave you chills.

For the first time, you were scared. Positively terrified.

Loki's hand hovers over the daunting red button for a few moments as if he's contemplating. He and Thor exchange glares. Thor looks utterly and completely betrayed. Probably for the umpteenth time in his life. But you could feel that this was the worst of it.

Loki pushes the button and in a split second the ropes are cut, the latches give way, and Thor falls to his doom in his glass prison. You can't breathe.

“You're going to lose,” says Coulson's small, but sure voice.

“Am I?” Loki plays along.

“It's in your nature.” The agent's eyes are losing their light. His breathing shallows.

“Why do people seem to think they know my nature?” Loki says to himself, annoyed. “Your heroes are scattered. Your fleeting fortress falls from the sky. Where is my disadvantage?”

“You lack conviction... and the trust in your partner.”

“I do not think I-”

BOOM.

Loki gets blasted into the wall and slumps down unconscious.

“So that's what it does.”

You have tears pooling in your eyes and you try to stay strong, but looking at the man who was so kind to you, even when you were aiding a criminal, causes you to lose it.

“Agent Coulson, it's going to be alright. I- I can't believe he-” you can't even finish your sentence, kneeling beside him. “Just hang in there. You're going to be okay.”

“Don't you worry about me. Just do me a favour, please?”

“Anything. Anything. What is it?”

“Don't lose yourself, (Y/N).” Those were his last words. You start sobbing for a man you knew for the shortest amount of time and yet he made such an impact on you. Emotions and thoughts flood through you like rushing rapids. It feels like someone zapped you with a stun gun. It's like someone ran you over with a truck and left you flattened against the pavement. You feel like you're both on the verge of a hysterical fit or completely breaking down and crumbling into a ball on the ground. This was a dream, right? A nightmare?

Please for the love of every single god, let this not be real. Your heart. It hurts. You could almost swear that you feel the cracks in it. All you have to do is think of Loki's eyes. His touch, his voice, all of it, everything from before any of this shit happened to you both, for you to fall to your knees and break down in heavy sobs.

This poor, nice man. Coulson... He had offered you your old life back. How much simpler would everything have been if you had just accepted?

You had thought Loki was putting on an act, but did he really, honestly change in the end? How could Loki have done what he did if he hadn't changed? I am an accomplice to murder. I brought him the sceptre. I opened the door... How will I live with myself after all that I've done?

You feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up to see him. Coulson's killer. Loki. A man you thought you knew, had trusted with all your heart in so many ways. But you didn't recognize him anymore. This wasn't a game, to play with people's lives this way. You felt like a fool to figure this out only now. He's quiet with his words.

“I am-”

“Don't,” you say, hardened.

“Darling, please.”

“No.”

“This aircraft will crash any time now. We have to go.” His urging means nothing to you.

“Then let it. I'm not going anywhere with you.”

“You don't mean that.”

“Oh, I mean that.” You didn't care that your voice just cracked.

“Do you not trust me?” His voice has a tinge of frustration to it. You don't answer.

“You are a monster...” you murmur so quietly, you didn't think it possible for him to hear you.

He did.

“I was trying to save you!” Loki yells at you, anger increasing and all too apparent. Something clips in your heart. And your temper.

“I don't need saving!” You feel sick. Nothing makes sense anymore. “I'm not leaving with you.” Loki's eyes narrow and in truth looks beyond scary in this moment, something you never thought you'd feel about him.

“If that is the way you feel.” He sounds angry but trying not to let it resurface. Even more, there's a tinge of the sound of his own heart breaking. Well, join the fucking club. He gets up to leave, sceptre in hand, and walks a bit with a limp.

You can't bring yourself to look at him. Even if the last glimpse of his face turns out to be him smiling grotesquely and stabbing a spear into Coulson's back, so be it. When you finally hear his footsteps leave the room, that is when you start to weep.

Part 19

Tag List: @gerardwayisapotato , @theloneavenger1995, @magellan-88

[dylodandria-blog]

HGP Ch. 4.1

SO I decided to break this chapter up as it was beginning to drag on.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4.1

Later that evening the truck finally slows to a stop…

*For the first time in a long time I know where I am, I can’t run though, not yet… I’m too weak, I can wait. It doesn’t matter what they do, I can wait…* you think to yourself.

Exhausted you trudge up the incline from the logging road up to one the little cabins, just one of a few here. You recognize them from when you last went hiking, the Forrest Rangers had these set up for hikers or hunters that would get lost, or need to take shelter from a storm here in the mountains.

*FLASHBACK*

*So many people died every year here in the Cascades, even before the world went to shit. I remember when these were built when I was a child. I had asked some of the men working on them why they were building so far out here, that’s when they told me they were buildings these all over the mountain range to help people in need. People cared back then what happened to other’s. …. They didn’t stand by and leave you to rot in the hands of a mad man. *

*End Flashback*

I watch as the sandy haired ranger kneels in front of the old wood stove, trying to make a fire. Looking around there are only two windows but they are too small to wiggle out of, *not that I could in my condition. anyway... * I mentally chastise myself.

There is a small table built into the wall, 2 single bunk beds and a few now empty shelves, that used to have a few canned goods some small things like that for someone who needed to take refuge it was provided by the forest service rangers.

*Sitting in the corner is as far away from them as I can get. At least they haven’t collard me like a dog like that bastard did! Still not far enough away in my opinion. *

I look down at my hands reminding myself why I can’t run from them, *Bones in my hands and wrists are visible, the rest of me must be just as bad. If I run I’ll die out there. These mountains are not forgiving even in the best of weather. * I rub my wrists again, the burn from the rope has made them throb.

The one in charge “Bear” they call him or LT, he’s a marine officer, you found out while “Hell” the woman in the truck with you was in contact with him on the 2-way radio talking about you of course, or some block in the road from debris or cars.

Bear comes in and drops his ruck on the table.

Bear: “SGT Lionel; I organized everyone for tonight’s shifts, we have 4 on watch for the 1st shift, Ortega is overseeing them. You take the 2nd with Bane, Juke and Strike, and I’ll take the 3rd, with 4 others. We’re going to buckle down here for the night. Clear?”

SGT Lionel: “Yes Sir.”

*Sergeant Lionel is his name then… I look around again, I’m waiting for that SOB to walk in at any moment now. I won’t ask where he is in case he is near. I won’t give that bastard the satisfaction to even remotely think I care about him by asking about him to these people. Sick and twisted as he is, it’s probably what he is waiting for. It’s probably a good thing I haven’t spoken in… how long has it been...? I’m not sure I can talk anymore anyways, it’s been so long now. *

*They’ve been chatting ever since they picked these cabins to hunker down in. At least I know where I am, that’s a first in a long time. It’s a relief in a way to see something, anything really that I am familiar with! Hell, even the view from the back of that food truck was damned near euphoric! I never thought I would see nature again, let alone anything other than that cell or concrete room.*

*That’s right (y/n), the world has gone to shit, you’re still a prisoner, and you’re HAPPY?? Because you got to see a little nature?!? Get a grip and get your shit together, pay attention! * You chastise yourself.

Hell: “Bear, I mean Sir. Look I know you need answers from her, we all do. But I don’t think you’re going to get any though if you try and question her right now.”

They’ve been squabbling about you and how to best watch you now that you’re awake.

*oh, so they need answers huh? How about me? I need to know… *

Hell turns and looks at you, distracting you from your thoughts. You in turn stare right back.

Hell: “Sir, if anyone right now needs answers, it’s her.” You sit up now that you’re the center of attention, it grates on your nerves; you’ve always hated it when you were the center of attention. “She hasn’t said a word Sir, since she woke up that is. She didn’t even try to run when we stopped here for the night. But Sir, you should know I do not think it’s because she is dumb or mute. That much I can tell.”

Bear: “What are you saying Hell, just spit it out!” He’s frustrated and exhausted.

Medic: “…Sir, I saw it too, Hell is right. I… I think she knows where we are. She became more alert all the sudden when we turned onto the logging road a few miles back. We left the back roll up door open on the truck in case we needed to bail out quickly. Before that… well all she did was stare at us Sir.” *He sighed* “It was like she was examining us, testing us even. I’ve only seen that look one time before Sir.”

Bear: “When was that Jacobsen? Explain it.”

Jacobsen: “Sir, Years back I was with team out in Congo doing security work for the Red Cross. One day the Doctors we were with headed to another village, what we found was mostly burnt to the ground, there were bodies...” *He shakes his head like he’s trying to forget.* “But there was one small hut and in it were 2 women and a few children. They were being held captive. The look she gave us in that truck was like that, assessing, judging every movement we made. It’s….”  

*Shoving his hand in his hair he leans against the wall and slides down it to squat and sighs heavily like a large weight is on him. *

Jacobsen: “Sir, the look she gave us in that truck… It took me right back there back in that jungle. But it’s different as well. She’s waiting for something Sir; even now she is listening to us, judging us. But it’s just, well it’s different with her.”

Bear: “What do you mean, how is it different?” *Looking over at you; you realize by his expression you must be quite the pathetic sight, dirty, matted hair and bones showing. *

*I Suppose I’m not much to look at. * You think snidely to yourself.

Jacobsen: “Sir, I think well…, I’m not sure…” *Heavy sigh* “Sir, I think she was one of us.”

Everything freezes, not one of them make a sound but they all look at you head to toe, re-evaluating you silently.

*Figures a medic would piece it together… I was wondering how long it would be until they figured it out… where is that SOB anyway? *

Bear snaps his eyes back to Jacobsen. “Explain.” Then his eyes return to you. Watching, waiting...

Jacobsen: “I can’t be certain Sir, she fears us I know that much. Doesn’t trust us, I get that. I’ve seen it before and I don’t blame her. If what Hell read in those journals is even half accurate, that sick son of a bitch damned near did everything he could to break her. But unlike those women back then in the jungle, SHE doesn’t shy away when you look her in the eye. It’s, it’s like she was taking inventory of her surroundings Sir, you know like what we were trained to do if captured. Pay attention, analyze and find a way out.” *he roughly drags a hand though his hair and sighs* “Sir, I think she was a soldier, or… she was one at one time.”

*Maybe sitting in the corner wasn’t the best idea, I feel trapped. * your blood starts pumping with adrenaline.

Bear’s ruck falls from the table *THUNK* and hits the cabin floor, it’s the only sound in the cabin.

*No chairs, nothing I can grab to use. * you belatedly think.

Bear: “So what you’re telling me; is that one of our own was left in that shit hole for god knows how long, being abused and tortured by that Psychopath. And the General just let him do that shit to her? Is that what you are telling me?”

Bear looks over at Hell. “You’ve read the journals?”

Hell: “Not all of them; but enough to know what she went through in there, and yes, General Bates knew what was going on and did nothing to stop him.” She gulps in air and looks like she is going to be sick.

She takes a moment to collect herself, “Sir by the way he writes it, General Bates couldn’t do anything about it anyway; by the time he figured out something was going on by then, there were no other Doctors or medical personnel left from the CDC but Harris. That sick bastard he…, I think he did it deliberately Sir.”

Minutes pass and no one looks away from you except for Hell and Jacobsen, it seemed like it was too much for them. *they must have read his personal journals then… he used to read them to me aloud when I stopped responding to him, he thought it would make me angry enough to talk to him again. *

You begin to realize this isn’t just some sick elaborate trick that bastard has concocted. He would never have willingly let you leave that cell unless if it was for one of his tests; even then it was always a concrete room with no windows just the door. If something happened back in that hell hole, he would have let you die in there right alongside him. He was just that twisted and crazed.

SGT Lionel takes a few steps forwards but stops short; 3-4 feet from you he takes a knee in front of you.

Lionel: “I’m James Lionel, I know you think you know who I am. I am not with that sick bastard, I didn’t let you rot in there each time I left. I was biding my time to get you and the others out.” He looks you dead in the eye and with an emotionless face says “He’s dead you should know that; as is the General, they are all dead.” He stands, and over his shoulder he tells Bear“Sir, I am going to get more wood for that fire and maybe find some game to bring back.”

With nothing more than that, he grabs his ruck sack and riffle and leaves the cabin.

Bear sits down on front of the fireplace, looks from it back to you. “You should know it was SGT Lionel that shot Dr. Harris. When we stormed the building; after the General didn’t do anything…” *He sighs and rubs his face* “No we need to go further back than that.”

As Bear begins to explain to you the chain of events that happened; you glance over at the cabin door Lionel left through.

*Maybe I gave up hope to quickly with that one…* You wonder if maybe, just maybe you misjudged him...

To be continued….