#because they came off as too competent at navigating the set

[muffinlance]

After reading the tags on your latest post I was wondering if it would be possible for you to make a brief overview of the iffy tropes/details your sensitivity reader helped you pick up on? Of course it wouldn't replace doing research ourselves, but I'd love to hear about it regardless!

Have not run it by them yet because it is in no fit state for human consumption at this point; the tropes are just from reading their blog + others on Tumblr + general Internet research including the excellent "blind people walk you through normal activities from their perspective" videos on YouTube. But off the top of my head:

Face touching. Where the blind person gropes someone's face to see? Sighted people made that up. I rewrote a chapter in Towards the Sun when I realized that one. Which makes sense, because why would a blind person be any more inclined to run their hands all up in your facial juices. Eww.

Negating blindness with magic and pretty much ignoring the blindness henceforth. Which is why Zuko isn't going to learn to see with firebending. There are very interesting discussions on how Toph herself fits and doesn't fit into this trope; finding them is left as an exercise for the reader.

Token blind character, AKA only having one blind person in the narrative who represents All Blind People. Going to have a few blind NPCs running around, with various levels of sight and accommodations, to thoroughly negate this one.

Being Depressed and/or Overly Inspirational about the blindness. AKA character devotes a large chunk of the story to bemoaning their blindness, with bonus inspirational "overcoming" at the end. Think about how it would feel if the majority of characters like you spent vast word counts hating the thing that makes them like you. And then solving it, in a way you can't, so they don't have to have the tragic fate of Being Like You. ...So Zuko is not getting cured, and he's also not wasting much time wallowing in an angst puddle.

Etc.

Basically, I want this to be a story that low vision folks can read and go "that was fun and less offensive than 70% of actual media representations", and sighted people can go "that was fun and hopefully I internalized some positive things that will make me less likely to grab a blind person's arm and forcibly Help Them Cross The Road, Try To Pet Their Dog (and Get Huffy When Asked to Please Not), or Call People Out On Not Being Blind Because They Don't Fit The Stereotypes".

[4ln-stay8]

Getting caught

>summary: You and Lando are in a secret relationship and get caught making out

>author’s note: The last 2 ones were decent so I made another one… I still don’t know what Im doing

>warning: fluff ig

You were really excited about today. You friends, Max and Lando, invited you to join them on set where a new video will be made. You weren’t going to be in the actual video, but your friends thought it would be fun to have you on set with them.

You, Lando and Max were now navigating chaotically through the corridors of the Quadrant headquarters, the echoes of your laughter reflecting all the years of friendship between you.

Unbeknownst to your other friends, you and Lando shared a secret romance, carefully concealed beneath the veneer of your friendship. The decision of keeping things secret wasn’t really easy, but you were very concerned about Max finding out.

You always feared that one day the friendship all three of you had would come to an end due to your feelings about Lando.

Growing up, Max, who was like a brother to you, always warned both you and Lando that no one was allowed to get feelings for each other.

It was stupid if you think about it know but back then, back when you were kids, it was a serious deal. You somehow always thought that Max was still holding onto that rule you made when you were kids and the fear was getting to you.

You were often overthinking and when you and Lando got the guts to confess your crush on each other, things weren’t going great for you.

Your instant thought was about Max and the rule he made back then and the fear was getting the best of you. The fear of losing Max, the fear of being the reason Lando loses Max and the fear of losing Lando all came rushing to you.

Lando noticed you were stressed out so he promised you that all your fears would never come true. He suggested on keeping things secret and talking things slow and you’ll eventually find a way to tell your friends about it.

Now back to where we left off, the three of you finally made it to the room the set was placed. There, Ria, Aarav, Niran, Ethan and the quadrant filming crew were waiting for you to arrive.

“Oh thank God you’re here… I thought you wouldn’t make it” said Ria relieved that they won’t have to reschedule

“Oh please Ria, we were only 30 minutes late. We had to pick Y/N up and she took a lifetime to get ready” said Max teasing you and ruffling your hair

Lando burst into laughter at Max’s comment making everyone in the room laugh.

“Oh shut it you muppet! I didn’t took that long. We are late because Max is too short and can’t keep up” you said sticking your tongue out to Max causing him to roll his eyes.

The truth was that Max was slightly taller than you but that didn’t stopped you from joining everyone into teasing him about his height.

“We’re going to get ready to film, you can stay on that chair behind the cameras. It won’t take long” said Lando showing you a chair behind the sea of cameras. You just nodded and made your way to the chair.

Everyone was into their place ready to start the video. They were supposed to make two members teams and compete with each other. There were a set of tasks and the first team that finished the task got a point, the winner being the team with most points.

After filming for a while, it was time for lunch break. Everyone was trying to decide what they would get and from where to order some food.

During this chaos Lando find the time to come to you. He approached you and smiled sweetly when he got next to you.

“You hungry? Max is ordering some food for the team, you want something?” he asked you softly

“Yeah, I’ll get whatever you’re getting” you said smiling

“I’ll go tell Max. After that I’ll meet you in the hallway. Be subtle” he said quietly giving you a wink

You made sure that you left the set without being seen and you patiently waited for Lando to come. Once he was out of the room as well he took your hand and started to drag you after him. He finally found an empty meeting room and pulled you inside.

“What are we doing here Lan?” you asked confused

“I missed you so much! You look so beautiful today and I just couldn’t resist kissing you anymore” he softly whispered while looking at your lips leaning in.

His pink soft lips soon met yours, dancing in perfect sync. God how much you love his kisses. Timed stopped as both of you enjoyed each other! The soft kiss soon turned into a make out session. You just couldn’t resist each other.

As the rest of the crew took a breather, enjoying the food that now arrived, Max notice that something was missing, more like someone.

“Did you guys saw Lando and Y/n? Their food is getting cold” asked Max looking around the room for his friends

“I honestly haven’t seen them since we ordered the food” said Ethan shrugging his shoulders.

“Imma go look for them” Max quietly said before getting up and out the door.

After a while Max stumbled upon the clandestine rendezvous, eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of you and Lando entwined in a kiss. His heart raced, realizing that the unspoken tension between you was no secret to him alone.

Unbeknownst to both you and Lando, Max noticed your feelings for each other long before you even did. He was subtly trying to get you guys together without really intervening.

Max in a whirlwind of emotions, confronted the two of you, unleashing a torrent of words that had long been held back.

“You two? Since when?” He said confused not knowing when did this happened and why he didn’t picked on it.

Lando and Y/n pulled away in shocked now that their secret was exposed. They look at each other than back at Max trying to find the words.

“A few months” you whispered looking down trying not to start overthinking it again

“Fucking finally! I didn’t know how much I could keep hinting it out to you” said Max laughing

“Wait what?” said Lando confused at his friends confession

“You aren’t mad?” you asked him, concern written all over your face

“Why would I be mad? I knew you guys were in love with each other for years now… I was just waiting to see how much time it would take this muppet to finally grow a pair and ask you out” said Max laughing

“But the pact?” you asked confused

“You mean the one we made when we were like 8 and we thought that girls/boys were gross? Come on Y/n, you weren’t actually still worried about it, were you?” Max asked now serious

“Of course she was you muppet, you know how she gets when it comes to possibly upsetting one of us. Thats the only reason we hid our relationship for so long” said Lando slightly revolted while pulling you into a tight hug knowing how embarrassed you got.

It wad stupid to actually worry about something like this and you know it, but in all those years of befriending the two brits drivers you never joked about upsetting them.

You loved them a lot and simply the thought of them being mad at you got you all teary. Of course you were worried about that stupid pact, you didn’t know how Max was feeling about it and you weren’t ready to find out. It turns out that you were afraid of nothing all along.

“I’m sorry that I made you believe that you couldn’t tell me about it” said Max softly trying to find your gaze

“Im sorry I was stupid to still hold onto that pact we made” you said shyly

“Well y/n this muppet is still more stupid then you so its fine. Now come on, the food is getting cold” said Max laughing and causing both of you to laugh with him

All three of you went back to the set where all your other friends were waiting for you. You dropped the news to them as well while you, Lando and Max finished your food.

The Quadrant video continued, capturing not just the staged antics for the camera but the genuine bonds that held this group together. As the laughter echoed through the headquarters, you and Lando were no longer burdened by secrecy and walked hand in hand into the next chapter of your intertwined lives.

[mychoombatheroomba]

The Crucible (Part 2)

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 50

The test ends.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

I had someone ask me to be tagged in upcoming chapters, so if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just ley me know!

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Chapter Index

In the last year and a half, you’d found yourself caught in many situations you felt ill-prepared for. You’d encountered the reanimated corpses of your comrades, your brothers in arms. You’d survived wounds that should have been the end of you. You’d been recruited into a secretive program to fight man-made monsters. You’d fallen for a man you’d never have met if it weren’t for all the horror you both endured. 

You’d been stabbed, burned, tortured, and you’d survived. You’d found a way through. 

You could navigate this conversation, too. Somehow. 

All you had to do was not make yourself look guilty of treason. 

Easy-fucking-peasy. 

“You’re not to be out of the barracks.” Reed approached you with a superior look in his eye. Fitting, given he technically was your superior. As much as you might hate that fact. 

Luckily, you had more than one man you took your orders from, these days. 

“Krauser asked me to keep setting wire charges for the mornings.” The lie came so easily to you, though maybe that was because the evidence to support it was literally hanging off your shoulder. The duffel bag held all the little components to make the traps your Major had taught you how to set up. 

Just setting charges, like normal. Not breaking into your office. Not reading your reports-

Your thoughts were so loud in your head you worried that they might escape you, somehow. Still, you willed yourself to be stone. Just as the man in front of you was. 

Or, more accurately, just as he normally was.

Reed’s long nose crinkled as he looked down at the bag, then back up to you. “I wasn’t aware of this.” 

“Didn’t know he had to tell you.” It was sharper than was smart, but you felt like you were backed into a corner . . . but then Reed hadn’t made any accusations yet, had he? “Didn’t know you were supposed to be out here, either.” 

Reed shrugged at that. “I can go where I please.” 

“So what brought you out here?” 

His eyes narrowed, and he reached into his pocket. A silver lighter was what he pulled out, one that he flipped open and then closed. Something you wouldn’t expect from the man, when in all the months he’d been here, all the weeks you’d been out late setting up lines with Krauser, you’d never once seen Reed smoke. But before you could voice that- “Bad habits, unfortunately.” He slid the lighter back into his pocket, then, studying you. “Maybe we have that in common.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re very close with the Major . . . aren’t you?” 

What the hell-

“He’s my commanding officer.” 

“And you spend a lot of time with your commanding officer. A lot of time in your off-hours,” Reed observed, and what the actual fuck was happening right now? “He gives you permissions far beyond your rank-”

“He likes things to be handled by competent people, I guess.” 

“Does he now?” Reed raised a brow, his eyes sharpening, and you were so thoroughly thrown off your guard you let the silence stretch a few moments between the two of you. “I can understand some familiarity. He did save your life, after all.” 

“Guess he wouldn’t have had to if that soldier had gone for my throat, right?” you hissed, because those words had been a splinter in you all day. One that you couldn’t get out, that festered. 

“I suppose not.” 

Fuck it. 

He knew something. He had some involvement with bioweapons. He’d known before STRATCOM asked him to help train recruits. And if the reports Krauser had were really all the incidents the government had on file, then there was only so much Reed and Hellman could have been involved with. 

The operation to retrieve the G-Virus . . . or the first communication with Birkin himself.

If you weren’t just pulling theories out of your ass.

Time to find out if you were. 

“Been thinking about that,” you said, your eyes cutting through the dark, aiming for him. “You were right. That soldier should have made sure I was dead.” Reed knew you were setting up something, you could see it in his eyes. The bastard was gracious enough to let you do it - not that you gave him much time to speak and interrupt that line of thought. “And our government should have arrested the man who made a biological weapon of mass destruction, but they didn’t. They made a deal with him. And now we’re all paying the price for some idiot’s actions.” 

You watched the agent’s face carefully. Watched as something raged against the cage of stoicism he’d built around himself. The corner of his mouth curled. “Now how did you learn about that?” he asked, and the two of you might as well have been circling each other with knives. 

And you would have to answer that question very carefully, or he’d be able to bleed you. 

“How did you?” you asked, and Reed actually smiled. 

Krauser’s smile usually meant trouble, at least when it came to training. It meant a challenge. This? That smile felt more like a snake baring its fangs. “Oh, Sergeant, you don’t want to play this game with me.” 

“I’m not playing.” The words were steel. “I want to know why any idiot would think that trying to make a deal with someone like that would be a good idea.” 

“Dealing with Birkin was a necessary compromise,” Reed hissed, taking a step forward, trying to back you towards the mess hall. You couldn’t smell any traces of cigarette smoke on him as he got close. “A force that is willing to do whatever it takes is the one that will remain in power.”

“Sure,” you felt rage rising like bile in your throat. “Just better hope it doesn’t kill our own people in the process, right?” 

“Sacrifices are a part of war,” Reed said, his tone devoid of any empathy. “I thought soldiers were supposed to know that. But then, soldiers are also supposed to follow orders. They’re supposed to not scrape for classified intel. And they’re supposed to not fraternize with their comrades . . . but here we are.” 

A muscle in your face twitched, and Reed smiled wider. Satisfied. 

“You’re done for the night. Get back to your barracks.” 

In the end, the two soldiers he pulled from night patrol to escort you back made it a difficult order to refuse. And so, you lay in your bunk, staring up at the ceiling. Good thing you were used to sleepless nights, because you had too many thoughts to sort out. 

Fraternizing. But Reed hadn’t spoken of Leon. No, he’d spoken of Krauser, and that thought . . . 

You tried not to focus on it too much, because for all his bluster, Reed had slipped. You’d seen the reports in his office. You’d read the matching ones Krauser had given you over and over again. Birkin’s name had been blacked out on each and every one of them, but Reed had just spoken that name to you. 

It left you exhausted as the hours passed by, but-

⧫⧫⧫

The purpose of the test was exhaustion. 

Leon had known that when he first heard the timeline of it. Fifty-four hours in the woods, with limited rations and even more limited sleep. Days full of physical and mental exertion. 

He wanted to sleep, he really did. Even if they were only being given four hours for it. Still, he hadn’t accepted any arguments from the others when he volunteered for a night shift. It was only right, in his mind. He’d been given the responsibility of leading during the test. He’d watch over everyone while they took their well-deserved rest. 

Valeria had insisted on taking the second watch, but for now she slept alongside the others on the forest floor, rifles at their sides. Ready for anything, just as Krauser had trained them to be. 

Leon half expected a tear gas canister to sail into their campsite. 

Or for Krauser to just storm in and start slicing proverbial throats. 

All that to say, Leon was keeping his focus on the space around the squad, listening for any signs of danger. 

And that was likely why he overheard the raised voices in the distance. 

Leon’s brow furrowed - because he’d recognize Krauser’s voice anywhere. He’d know the tone it took when the man was upset, too. 

He should just leave it. He knew that. 

That didn’t stop him from shaking Valeria awake, though, just in case. She grumbled when he whispered that he was going to check something out but took up his watch anyway. So, once the rest of the group had someone watching over them, Leon slunk off into the dark. He’d just proved earlier in the day that he could move quietly, but that didn’t make it any less difficult now. The shadows helped him move unnoticed, though, hiding him from the lights Leon found himself moving towards. 

There was a command tent set up in the woods, big enough to no doubt house Krauser, Hellman, and the other drill sergeants that traded out with them. A lantern dimly shined through the gaps in the canvas, letting Leon see movement inside. 

“He’s a fucking problem, Hellman, and you know it!” Krauser’s voice was not so easily confined as the light was. 

The response was mostly lost, until Leon moved closer. 

“ . . . perhaps drastic-” 

“Two of my men have had bones broken or dislocated under his watch. That’s not drastic, it’s incompetence at best,” Krauser shot back, and Leon’s jaw clenched. Reed. There was no one else they could be talking about. 

“And are you suggesting it was intentional at worst?” 

“He didn’t seem all that broken up about it.” A third voice, one Leon also recognized as Doc’s. 

There was a pause before Hellman spoke again. He sounded as tired as Leon felt. “You told me that he didn’t lay a hand on the injured recruit this time-”

“But we all know that wasn’t the case before.” Krauser reminded the agent, and Leon felt himself be thrown back several weeks. He was struck then with the memory of Hellman looking at him through two sets of prison bars, the sound of fists impacting flesh. The sound of your scream- “He’s losing us men. That’s all there is to it. Training them hard I have no problem with. Crippling them before they can even fight? That’s unacceptable, and I want him gone.” 

“You know I don’t have the authority to make that decision.” 

“Then we find someone who does!” 

“Major,” Hellman said, and Leon couldn’t miss the sympathy in his voice. “Reed is a difficult man, I know that. But he has always put the interests of our nation first. We wouldn’t be aware of Umbrella’s part in what’s happened without him.” Leon balked at that, the implications settling in his gut. “He has his reasons for doing what he’s doing, but . . . I understand what you’re saying. I’ll speak with him when we get back.” 

There was a huff. “You will,” Krauser ordered, leaving no room for debate. 

 A moment later the tent’s flap was thrown open and Krauser stormed out, absent his usual beret and wearing an expression of pure and utter frustration. He reached up, pressing a hand to his forehead, letting out a ragged sigh. Leon watched from the shadows of the forest, sympathy in his chest along with worry. 

He held on to those emotions as Krauser rounded the corner, heading towards the Humvee Leon could barely make out nearby, and the younger man took that as his cue to leave. 

“What was it?” Valeria asked in a hushed voice when he returned, and Leon grimaced in the dark. 

“Someone got hurt back on base. Reed was watching, I guess.” 

A scoff heralded Valeria’s response. “What a dick.”

A dick who’d been the reason the US government knew about Umbrella. And if that was so, Leon could only ask himself one question-

⧫⧫⧫

How did he know?

It plagued you into the morning, keeping you from sleep. That, and the veiled threats Reed had thrown at you in the night. 

Fraternization. Did he know? Or was he jumping to conclusions with the wrong man? You weren’t sure. Whatever the case, he wore a smug look the next morning, one that held disdain for you when you reported for First Call. 

But you weren’t being suspended from duty. So, he hadn’t told anyone his theory. Not yet.

Instead, Reed seemed to be taking his punishment out on the whole unit. He’d doubled the distance you all normally had to go for your morning run, and by the time breakfast rolled around, everyone was more than happy to dig in to the food offered, even if it tasted like shit on the best of days. Everyone but you, because you were rescued from that fate by one of Doc’s assistants. Even if Reed protested, having someone else remind him of your orders helped. 

There wasn’t much to do that morning, though, so you were pretty sure that the assistants just did it because hatred of the agent was spreading through the base like wildfire. 

So, you, them and Grayson hid out in the infirmary, eating the food that Doc had left for you. Pasta this time - a big tub of it that you all divided up and reheated. There wasn’t quite enough for everyone, but one of the two assistants volunteered up her share to Grayson before you even had the opportunity. She went to the mess hall instead, and you were left in the peace of the infirmary. It wasn’t exactly a talkative breakfast, but you were thankful for that. It gave you more time to think. To turn the night’s discoveries over in your head. 

Or, more accurately, the pieces of discoveries. 

You weren’t sure if those pieces fit together to make the actual puzzle become clear, or if your spite was leading you to force things to fit an image in your head. 

All you knew was that Reed was a bastard. That he wanted you gone, one way or another. That he was all but accusing you of sleeping with your commanding officer, if he wasn’t accusing you of fraternization in general. You were sure that he’d encountered BOW’s or at least knowledge of them before, and you were sure that he knew Birkin’s name and role in the talks with the government. 

You just couldn’t be sure of how he knew. 

That didn’t change the feeling in your gut though; the idea eating away at you, even as you went about your day. Birkin would have covered his tracks well. What he was doing might as well have been suicide, if the wrong people discovered his treachery. So, it begged the question - the same question that Alenko had voiced not so long ago:

How did Umbrella find out? Who ratted him out about the deal with the CIA?

Maybe Umbrella discovered it on their own. Or maybe someone tipped them off to Birkin’s actions. And if that were the case . . .

If Reed had been one of the few to be in a position to know, to do something . . .

If, if, if. 

So many ifs. So much depended on your hunch being right. 

All of those ifs and maybes, and one filled you with dread more than any other.

What if you were right? 

You didn’t know. You didn’t know what you would do because how could you present any evidence? You had none, save for inference from stories you shouldn’t have heard, and the reports hidden in your bunk that you shouldn’t even possess. Reports that, you decided, you desperately needed to return to Krauser’s office. You’d held on to them for too long, and Reed would be watching you now. You could feel his gaze on you all day long as he pushed you and the rest hard under the blazing July sun. 

Enough that, after the lunch you mercifully skipped to go to the infirmary, one of your comrades could take no more, it seemed, and doubled over, spewing her meal into the dirt. 

You grimaced but went to help her up when Reed deigned it not important enough to interfere. Unsurprisingly. The recruit brushed you off when you asked if she was alright, but she looked pale. That didn’t change over the rest of the afternoon, but she pushed through, even as the amount of exertion from the day left her and many others looking ill. 

And all the while, Reed’s eyes were fixed on you, some unseen equation in his head. You could see it - the two of you trying to assess each other. To understand one’s enemy. 

“Sergeant,” he ordered as you all reported for melee sparring, “let’s have another demonstration. See if all that time you’ve been spending with the Major is paying off.” 

You brushed off the insinuation as best you could, because even if he had the wrong man, the implication of his words . . . 

Didn’t matter now. Not until he made a formal accusation, you supposed. In the moment, you had opponents to deal with. Ones that were just as exhausted as you were, but opponents nonetheless. It was a familiar scenario that Reed set up for you, one that you’d been through a dozen times; your comrades lined up, stepping in to face you as you defeated the previous attacker. When Krauser had set such a challenge for you, though, you knew it was because he wanted to force you to be better. 

With Reed, you knew he only wanted to see you fail. 

Well, fuck him. 

You knocked your first opponent into the dirt. 

Disarmed the second. 

They didn’t put up much of a fight. Not like they usually did. A fact that concerned you, but still, you pressed on.

On and on, opponents were sent to face you-

⧫⧫⧫

And on and on, Leon fought them back. 

He could remember a time, not so long ago, when he’d watched you fight your way through his squad, one after the other. He remembered thinking that such a feat was impossible for him. That he would never be able to hold a candle to your abilities. 

Now, he was proving himself wrong. 

King of the hill. That was what Krauser had declared these fights would be. Winner gets to stay in the ring - a twenty-foot wide structure made of wood. One person lost the fight and was sent out, the next combatant was sent in. That meant only one winner by the end of it all. One fighter out of ten. Winner would be spared from whatever exercise was coming next, that was the deal.

Leon had been the third person to fight, and now, he was on his seventh opponent. Sweat dripped down his face and back under the oppression of the heat, his body sore and demanding rest. Still, he kept going. He ducked under swings and delivered counter cuts, kept his movements small and his mind sharp. It was enough that as Alejandro made a misstep, Leon was able to take advantage of it, his knife slashing forward as the other man went to switch his weapon from one hand to the other. 

Blunted metal met fabric and pressed against flesh. 

Two left. 

Two opponents. 

There was no BOW spin to this test. Nothing to make it seem like they were fighting a monster. This was a test of one’s skill against a person. The very thing Leon had struggled so hard with, in the beginning. Now, as Valeria stepped into the ring with him, knife in hand, Leon felt none of the anxiety he once experienced. None of the fear. 

Only the desire - even if you weren’t here to see it - to make you proud. 

Valeria put up a good fight. 

Leon would expect nothing less of her, but in the end, he had come to expect her scraping up dirt to throw in his eyes, or going for headshots. 

As she went for one, her knife aimed high, Leon spun low, using the same move that Krauser had knocked him down with just a few nights ago. It would have worked, too, if Valeria hadn’t read the next attack, spelled out in his exhaustion. Or, maybe she’d just intended to use the high attack as a feint. Either way, Leon hoped she’d intended to aim for something other than what she hit as he swung his leg out at hers. The attacks landed at the same time, and Leon was sure that him sweeping her supporting leg out from under her hurt a hell of a lot less than the shin that crashed into his face. 

His vision blurred as pain cracked into his nose and mouth, and then both he and Valeria were on the ground, groaning in pain. Copper flooded his mouth, warmth spilling down his lips and cheeks as he blinked. 

Ah, well, maybe he’d gotten overconfident . . .

But no immediate attack followed. He looked to where Valeria had fallen, seeing her up . . . but not attacking. She looked almost concerned. 

“The hell you doing, Soto?” Krauser asked, and Leon, even with what felt like a broken nose, smiled at her answer. 

“Letting him get a free shot in,” she admitted, giving him an apologetic smile. “Busted his face, seems only fair.”  

It would hurt her performance, Leon knew that, but she was doing it anyway. 

So, Leon pushed himself off the ground and threw himself into the fray again, not giving her the chance to really ready herself. You would have been pleased with that, and Krauser was too. At least in part. 

The fight ended in a few moves, Leon using a few feints of his own. When Valeria backed away from a slash, then rushed back in, Leon met her with a hard kick to the chest. She slammed backwards into the makeshift wall of the arena, and Leon pinned his knife to her throat there. 

“You okay?” were the first words she spoke to him, and Leon just nodded despite the blood dripping down his face. 

“Fine. You?” 

A laugh. “Fine.” 

Krauser stepped into the arena as Leon lowered his knife, the Major’s gaze a blade in and of itself. “Don’t let your enemy get back up, Soto,” he growled, “you know that.” 

“I do, sir,” Valeria nodded, sighing and letting exhaustion weigh her shoulders down. “You know me and my overconfidence,” she groaned, like it was some great enemy of hers. 

Krauser didn’t appreciate the joke. “If you know, then fix it, dipshit. Get out of here.” Valeria didn’t need to be told twice, throwing Leon a wink and rolling her shoulders as she left. “You good to keep going, rookie?” The question turned Leon’s attention to the Major once more, and Leon just huffed, spitting out some of the blood in his mouth. 

“Never been better, sir.” 

It wasn’t the first time he’d fought with a bloody nose, and it wasn’t the first time he’d won with one, either. Williams gave him a run for his money, but in the end, she overcommitted to a strike, and gave Leon the time that he needed. He was exhausted by the time it was done, panting as he slashed his practice knife across Williams’ stomach. 

He tried to decline the prize. 

It would be bad for morale if the squad leader sat out while everyone else did a hundred pushups, Leon argued. Even if it would just bring him more exertion. 

Krauser had scoffed at the idea, shaking his head and telling Leon that he could do two-hundred if he was so inclined, but he’d do it after a medic saw him. Made sure he wasn’t concussed. 

So Leon found himself in the care of one of Doc’s assistants. The woman had swapped out with her mentor just before the melee test started. Leon recognized her - he’d seen her more than a few times when he’d come to visit you in the infirmary. 

She had never looked so pale, then. 

He watched her carefully, his brow furrowed in concern as she checked him over and gave him things to stop the bleeding in his nose. Her movements were sluggish, her face drawing into a grimace when she thought he wasn’t looking. “Are you okay?” he finally asked. 

He was given a surprised look and a not entirely-convincing nod. “I’m alright.” 

Leon nodded, but when he returned to the rest of the group, he couldn’t shake the feeling that-

⧫⧫⧫

Something was wrong. 

You’d felt the thought scratching at the door since afternoon. Someone getting sick from exertion wasn’t unheard of. This wasn’t someone, though. 

Not when you had a dozen beds full in the infirmary, and Doc was struggling to make sense of it all. There wasn’t much you could do, honestly. Most of the men and women who’d come in just lay in bed coughing wet air from their lungs or sitting hunched over buckets. 

A dozen of them. 

A dozen people, all coming down with the same sickness at the same time. 

A sickness that left them growing more and more pale as the sun dipped below the sky. And it didn’t continue to be just that dozen. Their fevers worsened, their complaints of aches growing and growing as others joined in, hobbling towards the infirmary-

Something was very, very wrong. 

By Doc’s expression, he knew it too. 

“Come on,” he gestured to his assistant, then to you. “Let’s get them some water.” 

The three of you didn’t make it more than two steps outside the main sick bay before Doc closed the door behind him . . . then locked it. “Go secure the other door,” he ordered his assistant, and you felt something rising up in you. Choking you. Cutting off your air with a familiar grip . . . 

But this wasn’t . . . 

It couldn’t be . . .

“Sergeant.” An order. Give me an order. Something to do. Some way to help. “Get to the comms tower. Tell the Major there’s a situation.” 

A situation. 

A non-committal word. Because a situation could be resolved. De-escalated. 

That was all this was. 

That had to be all this was. 

You and Doc were just being cautious. Quarantine was a safe play. Alerting Krauser was the smart thing to do. 

So, you nodded, trying to ignore the way your own stomach lurched. Praying it was just nerves and not something else. 

“Sergeant?” Grayson asked, poking his head out of the room that had been yours for so many weeks. His arm was in a sling, but otherwise, he looked fine. “Is something wrong?”

“Get back in your room.” The order was given without even a second glance at your fellow cadet. “Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone but me or Doc.” 

If Grayson was frightened by the command, you didn’t see it. You were too busy storming out of the infirmary, heading towards the comms station. A place you’d spent little time in, during your tenure here. It was a long walk there, one that felt longer and longer as your thoughts closed in on you, a hungry pack with gnashing teeth. They nipped at your heels, your head snapping towards the sound of a hacking cough in the distance. 

Get to the comms. 

Tell Krauser. 

Get back and-

You were half-way across the base when it happened, passing through the training yard that you’d spent so many evenings in. There was no music coming from Krauser’s office, given the man wasn’t there, but if there had been, it would have been cut off. Just as surely as the lights were. 

You stopped mid-stride as the streetlights, the buildings, everything, was plunged into near darkness in the gray, fading light of dusk.

And for a moment, your heart stopped with it when, in the dark you heard it:

⧫⧫⧫

Footsteps. 

Leon hadn’t been sure he’d heard it. In all honesty, there was too much other movement from his squad to be sure. They were getting ready to set up camp for the night, Alejandro volunteering to take up watch. The last night of the test - the final stretch. The group, Leon included, was exhausted, more than happy to bunk down for the four hours of rest, eating what little of their MRE’s were left in the stretching shadows of the trees. It had been a moment of rest. A brief reprieve. 

And it ended with those shuffling footsteps. A cautious voice. “Hey, guys, we’ve got-”

And then a scream. 

Leon was on his feet in an instant, his gun raised and ready for whatever test Krauser had planned . . .

But then there was a wet ripping sound. A splattering, a choked cry . . . and in the dim, fading light, Leon saw crimson as a body fell to the forest floor. 

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Tag list (if you'd like to be added, just let me know)!

@greywardensaywhat

[weirdstrangeandawful]

Guys, I experienced competent medical care! I know it was the bare minimum and the fact that I’m excited about that is depressing but I AM ECSTATIC! If anyone wants to know how an ER visit for POTS and medication adverse effects should be handled, read on!

TW: detailed medical discussion under the cut (incl. ECG, bloodwork, IV, needles, general hospital stuff, plus some discussions of medical trauma)

So I went to the ER, registered, got triaged, etc. After a pretty short amount of time, they came and fetched me in the waiting room and explicitly asked me if I was feeling dizzy or if I would feel dizzy if I stood up and offer to get a wheelchair even for the short distance. I said yes but refused the wheelchair because I have medical trauma and I'm familiar enough with this ER that I could navigate it with presyncope (and I had my crutches with me obviously).

Immediately, they gave me a bed. No questions. Should be obvious but they don't normally let me lie down even though that's the main treatment for POTS. They had me change into a gown and very quickly did blood work and an ECG, with me lying down in case I passed out (I am used to blood work so I don't pass out but it was an importan precaution). The person drawing the blood was from the same lab I go to regularly so we chatted and he and I were joking that this is probably the fewest vials he's ever drawn from me. They also hooked me up to a continuous vitals monitor.

The nurse was about to put in an IV when the doctor walked in and asked her to hold off until he talked to me. So we talked, I told him about how I started clonidine and I'm not tolerating it and explained my symptoms and that I have POTS and suggested IV fluids. He said he wasn't sure what to suggest about the clonidine, said the decision was up to me, and agreed to fluids. Not only that but suggested IV ondansetron (anti-nausea medication) without my even asking! I definitely need it but never ask because ER doctors just refuse it or give it to me orally (why would you give me an oral medication for nausea when I'm horribly nauseated?!) The nurse came back in and was adorably triumphant that we guessed I needed an IV before the doctor even said so.

The rest of the ER visit went super smoothly (well enough that I actually ended up setting of low heart rate alarms lol). Three separate nurses took the time to check on me. One of them recognised me from previous visits and said hello and checked what was going on this time and got me a blanket since I had some mild Raynaud's symptoms and she wasn't mad that I accidentally dropped the blood oxygen monitor and didn't want to risk picking it up. They moved me to a chair once the fluids were done and I agreed that I was feeling well enough to go home and took the IV out, had me change, and discharged me.

I called the pharmacy when I got home to ask how bad is too bad to push through and they suggested I go off the clonidine and call my doctor. so I called my doctor's office (who suck at everything) and told them to pass on a message to my specialist, fully expecting them to refuse to do that, but they took the message! Not only did they do that but the specialist called me back after hours at the end of the day to discuss!

So we have a plan going forward: I'm going to try just one dose at night so I hopefully sleep through the side effects and just have the desired effects during the day.

[ailius-suffers-through-art]

again, too lazy to draw a whole comic so plot summary here:

rpg au kinda inspired by that one animation meme on youtube by Mintartem

as always, please note that the twins are aged up to 18 in this

So basically, towards the end of weirdmaggedon bill is facing down the pines family in the fearamid when too much weirdness leaks through the rift and everyone gets dragged into a different dimension. This dimension just so happens to be a D&D themed one.

Everyone wakes up to find themself stuck as a different race and class, including bill.

Dipper and Mabel end up as half elves; Dipper being a Wizard and Mabel being a Bard who only sings cheesy boyband songs.

Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford find out they've become wood elves; Ford being an Artificer and Stanley a Rogue.

Lastly, Bill comes to as a regular old human sorcerer.

Bill, for once, has to play by this dimensions rules, as the god who governs it (the DM) is stronger than he is. Of course, this doesn't mean he can't have fun where he is, though, so he charismas himself an army and makes himself the big bad evil guy™ of the campaign.

Ford and Dipper share a nerd bonding moment about where they are before getting serious again and trying to figure out how to escape this place.

The party immediately splits (much to the chagrin of both nerds) as Mabel sprints after the nearest hot fantasy guy and Stan heads to the market to scam people out of their gold. Dipper ends up getting left with Stanley since Ford immediately takes off after Mabel to look after her.

Cue cute Grunkle bonding for both siblings.

After a couple days and a lvl up to multiclass ranger, Dipper is thrown a bone by a deity and told that if he manages to defeat the BBEG™ they might be able to leave. Once he has that, he manages to scrounge up a bit of info from tavern gossips about who the BBEG is and sets off for the ominous castle behind the town.

He tries to get Stan to come with him, but the man is having too much fun getting rich. So, alone but overconfident, he busts down Bill's door and tries to burn his face off. This obviously does not work and dip gets put straight into bills mini prison.

They bicker for a while and Dipper nearly escapes by tricking a guard into giving him lunch in his cell and taking his keys and making a run for it, but he gets caught after setting around half the castle on fire.

He gets brought to Bill, who is fed up with him and is about to execute him, when one of Bill's minions lets him know about an attack on his forces somewhere in the middle of the forest. Badabing badaboom guess who is suddenly useful again?

So Bill switches his tune real fast and tries to coerce Dip into leading him to the location using his nature navigation skills, and Dip reluctantly agrees so he has a chance to gtfo of there.

Blah blah blah they find the monster and end up having to hide somewhere and slowly start to bond because Bill finds Dip annoyingly endearing and realizes he's decently competent, and Dip comes to appreciate Bill's chaos and comes to enjoy their butting of heads.

Ford and Mabel eventually end up rejoining Stan and they go on a quest to find Dipper. In the meantime, Dipper and Bill annoy eachother in various wacky ways whilst trying to solve the mystery of who keeps threating Bill's BBEG status.

NOW that i've caught you guys up to speed, here's a moment that came to me in the middle of the night that compelled me to draw it. Takes place after these dorks officially get together.

[magnuficent76]

🖊

Holy shit you on the inbox....... This is so awesome hello.

UHM um this is my oc her name is Melaine. She is a Normal Girl who is a Bug also

A doctor by profession, a biologist by heart, and a mutant through experimentation. Melaine T. Curatella was a renowed name in medicine, a part of one of the most famous families in the interplanetary system, until some horrid event lead her far outside the bounds of sanity... and now, who knows what she's after, using mutagenics and science horrifically in some far off planet? There's only speculation to be done.

Originally from Promethea, came to Pandora with a mission to help everyone who needed medical assistance, eventually ended up setting up her own hospital for the same purpose (free healthcare W). She is surprisingly rarely ever attacked simply because she is nice to people and as it turns out, even the worst of mercenaries would rather not die because of an unaddressed broken bone. Do not mistake this kindness for tolerance however, because she's more than capable enough to defend herself should a threat arise (Trust me scalpel stabs are Way Worse than regular stabs). Extremely competent in what she does to a scary degree, often being called "the Angel of the Wastes" for it. She could probably rearrange someone's entire skeleton if she was up to it. Deep down she has a lot of pent upanger because of how everything in this planet just is so exploited, so ignored, how everyone is clearly struggling but can't do anything about it because of the ideals that are perpetuated. She hates hates hates hates it so bad and she WANTS to do something too but, where is she even supposed to start right ? Well, "not letting everyone die constantly because of turf wars and meaningless violence" is probably a start.

Gets really passionate about everything really fast. Once she decides she likes or supports something, it would take hell freezing over to make her change her mind. This stubborness and resilience is what allows her to keep moving even throughout the most awful of situations, even in the face of the worst of adversity, she will come out on top covered in blood and permanently changed but she will stand by her extremely strict set of morals or so fucking help me. Melaine has a bad tendency to overlook special case scenarios because of this as well because she really dislikes the idea of being wrong about anything, which is how she feels after you tell her that things aren't just forever set in stone. Probabilities and other such interference don't matter to her, because only one version of every situation exists in her mind. This severely limits her ability to navigate new situations because she doesn't have the proper equipment to understand them, and it frustrates her beyond belief, so she does anything and everything to classify it as something she's already familiar with. Nothing else matters but my understanding of it, my classification, my experience, MY method. This woman would rather spend 5 years on the same argument than admit she maybe miscalculated. Totally not taking after her mom <3

After everything goes down in the story, she has to escape everything and ends up crashing back on her home planet, which is ironic for her giving she said she'd never go back under any circumstances, but I think the circumstance of "My husband is possibly dead and a company wants to take me + our 2 young kids out too just for being associated with him" is kind of a special case. This does not make her feel hopeless as much as it just makes her ANGRY. Injustice runs loose everywhere, with the worst people you've ever seen having most of the power and thus perpetuating it, while you're just getting kicked down over and over after climbing the ladder. It's humiliating, it's awful, and it makes her so fucking mad. This kickstarts her descent into madness and obsession after the concept of justice, something she herself has to do, because clearly nobody else knows how to. No one else knows justice how she does, and therefore, she must be the one to instill it.

Has been fascinated by insects and other arthropods ever since she begun to talk. Most namely, the Praying Mantis. If left to her own devices she would infodump about bugs for days at a time. Their exoskeletons and surprisingly tough claws and their big stupid eyes just captivate her, to a point where almost everything she owns has a mantis pin. This fixation takes a weirder turn later in the story as she attempts to BECOME a mutant version of one, often using several chemicals and other substances on herself to achieve what she considers "the perfect predator form". She's very normal about it and she would never perform any particularly unethical experiments to achieve such a goal. She is not doing it for any nefarious reasons (like say, especialized murder) and would never awaken cannibalistic urges within herself after all that. Don't worry about it !👍

Lookit her <3

Despite it all, she loves a lot. She is enamored by the beauty of life and understanding it is only her goal because of how much she appreciates every little detail of it as well. She loves helping people and she loves her husband and she just wants to keep loving things but unfortunately the world wants to make her Insane Constantly.

[ettawritesnstudies]

about your new what now? elaborate.

I'm running a DnD campaign for my friends that takes place in a multiverse called the planescape! There are a bunch of different planes of existence with different alignments on the scale of good -> bad and lawful -> chaotic, and my players are exploring them to fulfill the last wishes of their late friend, Annabelle Keay, - a treasure hunt as laid out in her will. I've got 6 players, and so I set up 6 NPCs to compete with them and act as foils, originally intending them to stay as just npcs in this silly little game, but I've grown really attached to some of them so I might turn their backstories into short stories at some point! So far we've got the following:

Lief Linwood: an angel who got stuck in the fey realm for years and learned how to navigate and hunt as a ranger. Annabelle came to the feywild on a mission and hired him as a guide, promising him freedom in exchange for his help. But when he got home, only seconds had passed, and he was expected to return to his normal life. Dissatisfied, he turned to a life of adventure, eventually falling out of touch with Annabelle, until he retrieved one last letter from his old friend, asking him to pick up the rest of the team for her funeral, and he realized it was too late to go back and catch up.

Shula Najm: An upstart from the plane of fire, trained in martial combat, and a member of a group that specializes in causing trouble for the police state in the City of Brass. She eventually got captured and landed in a prison cell with Annabelle. They hatched a jailbreak plan together, and haven't spoken since.

Becky Smith: A high elf paladin who was doing a co-op kind of program through her university as Annabelle's bodyguard in her old age. She fell in with a group that uncovered Annabelle's old crimes and convinced her the best way to deal with the threat was to assassinate her charge.

Isolde Halle: A human bard and a protege that Annabelle chose to sponsor from the university. She has a rather low self esteem, despite her craft, and has no idea why she's been selected for this mission.

Hartwig Vanhanen: A dwarven fighter from a plane where all the warriors who die in a day of battle are revived the next day to continue the fight. All wars here are more like elaborate playground games because there are no consequences, but each warrior is incredibly skilled from a lifetime of unrestrained constant practice. Annabelle went to this plane looking for warriors to draft into a cause of her own, and Hartwig volunteered to go with her after she insulted his bravery saying "he didn't know true pain." Only after going off-plane, to worlds where people *do* die, did he realize the gravity of war, and he realized he couldn't return home after seeing what he's seen, not until he's dead himself. He continues lending out his skill to causes in need.

Shaw Gagnon: A shifter pirate who tried to rob Annabelle one time. She let him keep the magic item in exchange for a favor, to be cashed in at a later time. He never heard from her, assuming he got out of the deal, until many years later he received a summons to adventure in her name.

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Executive Decision (Baird, 1996)

This review contains mild spoilers.

After I decided to give Under Siege a rewatch because I saw it was about to leave Canadian Netflix, I saw this other Steven Seagal "classic" was about to leave too, and ended up squeezing in a rewatch. This despite the fact that I can say with certainty that I own this movie, as I bought one of those four packs years ago for the express purpose of watching this movie. But you see that date lingering in the corner of the Netflix screen, and well, some things take priority. Also, I don't remember where I placed my copy of this either. Maybe I should get better at organizing my collection? Anyway, while its ownage is less firm than that of Under Siege, I still had a pretty good time.

As far as Die Hard clones go, this has the most in common with Air Force One, which came out the following year. They both take place on a plane, and also feature an opening commando raid and kidnapping (here, two separate scenes, in the other movie, combined into one). I do think this movie compares unfavourably to that one, and Under Siege, and of course, Die Hard, for one main reason: not a lot happens here. All those other movies, after their initial setup, give their heroes a weapon but also a series of problems to solve, so that there's a constant stream of incident. Here, once we get onto the plane, there's really just a handful of problems that the heroes have to solve for, all bundled together: defuse the bomb before the terrorists can set it off or kill any of the hostages. There isn't much shooting until the last few minutes, and while it's competently staged, it lacks the verve of those other movies. Where those movies have the heroes navigating all different parts of their respective settings, here much of the movie has them sweating it out in the belly of the plane.

That being said, I don't think this is inherently a flaw, and does make the movie involving in another sense, in that it's essentially an ode to problem solving and using brains over brawn. (The film's nerdy streak also manifests in the way it lovingly lingers on all the technical equipment, from all the flickering lights on the plane's different consoles and systems, to the extreme wide angle pinhole cameras used by the commandos.) The commando raid at the beginning of the movie yields paltry results, and once the characters are on the plane, a shoot 'em up solution favoured by the de facto lead commando is quickly understood to be the worst possible option in this situation. The heroes largely operate with intelligence and a good amount of deliberation. This whole subgenre came out of a reaction to the meathead muscleman action movies of the '80s, and despite Seagal also emerging as a star after that period, his casting as the trigger-happy lead commando is effective in evoking that period. Also, his death scene is really funny. Seagal's character is such an asshole (a trait inherited from real life) from when he first appears on screen that we start sweating like the heroes later do. We begin to dread that we're stuck with this guy as the hero for the whole movie, so it's a joy to see him get killed off as unceremoniously as he does so we can hang out with Kurt Russell and his friends instead. I like to say this is a good movie if you like Kurt Russell, but a great one if you hate Steven Seagal.

A few other notes:

Whereas in Die Hard the authority figures attempting to manage the situation from the outside are actively detrimental, and in most other examples of this subgenre, they're usually useless, here they are operating with a certain logic. The solution they lean towards is not a desirable one, but makes a certain amount of tactical sense given what information they have and what the stakes are. And once they reestablish contact with the team on the plane, they wisely get out of their way.

It is a bit jarring to see a 9/11-style scenario with Islamic terrorists in a movie made before 9/11, which probably makes it go down less easily than other movies in this subgenre. The version I watched on Netflix changed some of the dialogue to downplay the religious motivations of the villains. This is noted by Vern in Seagalogy as having one of the most bizarre examples of the "guy in a control room" trope, where a movie tries to mitigate negative portrayals of certain demographics or dodge accusations of racism by placing a character from that group in the "control room", so he's technically helping the heroes even if he might not be doing a lot. This one has one of the terrorists push back on the lead terrorist's plan for being too extreme, which, uh, is a choice. This might have gone over better had the movie attempted to define them as individuals, but they're basically cartoon villains here. For what it's worth, David Suchet is effective as the lead terrorist in a mustache-twirling way, even if he appears sans mustache.

[bravecompanynews]

Telesat sells remote communications services business - Information Global Internet - #GLOBAL https://www.merchant-business.com/telesat-sells-remote-communications-services-business/?feed_id=188557&_unique_id=66d82e7d9e460 TAMPA, Fla. — Canadian geostationary operator Telesat has sold off Infosat Communications, a remote satellite services specialist, to bolster finances as investments in its low Earth orbit (LEO) Lightspeed constellation ramp up. Calgary, Canada-based connectivity integrator Network Innovations said Sept. 3 it acquired the company from Telesat for an undisclosed sum, expanding its team by about 20 people to more than 300 employees.The announcement came weeks after Telesat CEO Dan Goldberg said the operator was considering raising proceeds in the region of 10 million Canadian dollars ($7.4 million) by selling a non-core business.Goldberg also said Aug. 14 the operator expects to invest up to 1.4 billion Canadian dollars in Lightspeed this year, after investing nearly a quarter of that in the first half as MDA prepares to start building 198 broadband satellites for the constellation.Telesat plans to cover around 46% of Lightspeed’s $3.5 billion cost via company equity and debt from an unnamed vendor. The rest is due to come from Canada’s federal government and the government of Quebec in deals Goldberg said Telesat is on the verge of completing.Meanwhile, declines in Telesat’s geostationary business led to a 17% year-on-year drop in revenues to 305 million Canadian dollars for the first half of 2024. Adjusted EBITDA (earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortization) fell 23% to 214 million Canadian dollars.More tools for connectivity distributorCalgary-based Infosat Communications was created more than 25 years ago with a focus on distributing satellite connectivity to oil and gas, utility and maritime customers in North America, particularly in Canada.Derek Dawson, co-CEO of Network Innovations, said the acquisition will greatly expand the company’s customer base in Canada, where only 6% of its business came from previously.Network Innovations specializes in providing connectivity integration services in challenging environments and for customers requiring extra resiliency, such as emergency services.The company provides connectivity from terrestrial networks and from satellites via partnerships with operators, including Starlink and OneWeb, which are set to compete with Lightspeed once Telesat’s network is slated to come online in 2027.More than half of Network Innovations’ customers are in the United States, followed by Europe and Asia. In 2017, Network Innovations also acquired Able Communications, a Houston-based satellite communications provider primarily serving oil and gas customers, from Telesat.“With all the disruption that’s happening in the industry from new business models and technologies, customers have way too many choices and have a difficult time navigating … how we might as an industry help them achieve what they want,” Dawson said.“For smaller companies, they don’t necessarily have the resources or the access to the technology that can best benefit their customers over the long term — and so that’s where guys like us come in.”Infosat is also strategically important for Network Innovations because, along with customer relationships, it comes with “a number of people that are hard to find in the industry,” he added.“And that just helps to bolster our total set of capabilities that we can bring to the market, whether that’s their customers or our customers.”Although most of Infosat’s assets were transferred to Network Innovations Sept. 1 following an initial round of regulatory approvals for the transaction, Dawson said the companies are still waiting for the green light to transfer certain communications licenses. http://109.70.148.72/~merchant29/6network/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/pexels-photo-27087100.jpeg BLOGGER - #GLOBAL

[formidablecompanynews]

Telesat sells remote communications services business - Information Global Internet https://www.merchant-business.com/telesat-sells-remote-communications-services-business/?feed_id=188552&_unique_id=66d82d58ee705 #GLOBAL - BLOGGER BLOGGER TAMPA, Fla. — Canadian geostationary operator Telesat has sold off Infosat Communications, a remote satellite services specialist, to bolster finances as investments in its low Earth orbit (LEO) Lightspeed constellation ramp up. Calgary, Canada-based connectivity integrator Network Innovations said Sept. 3 it acquired the company from Telesat for an undisclosed sum, expanding its team by about 20 people to more than 300 employees.The announcement came weeks after Telesat CEO Dan Goldberg said the operator was considering raising proceeds in the region of 10 million Canadian dollars ($7.4 million) by selling a non-core business.Goldberg also said Aug. 14 the operator expects to invest up to 1.4 billion Canadian dollars in Lightspeed this year, after investing nearly a quarter of that in the first half as MDA prepares to start building 198 broadband satellites for the constellation.Telesat plans to cover around 46% of Lightspeed’s $3.5 billion cost via company equity and debt from an unnamed vendor. The rest is due to come from Canada’s federal government and the government of Quebec in deals Goldberg said Telesat is on the verge of completing.Meanwhile, declines in Telesat’s geostationary business led to a 17% year-on-year drop in revenues to 305 million Canadian dollars for the first half of 2024. Adjusted EBITDA (earnings before interest, taxes, depreciation and amortization) fell 23% to 214 million Canadian dollars.More tools for connectivity distributorCalgary-based Infosat Communications was created more than 25 years ago with a focus on distributing satellite connectivity to oil and gas, utility and maritime customers in North America, particularly in Canada.Derek Dawson, co-CEO of Network Innovations, said the acquisition will greatly expand the company’s customer base in Canada, where only 6% of its business came from previously.Network Innovations specializes in providing connectivity integration services in challenging environments and for customers requiring extra resiliency, such as emergency services.The company provides connectivity from terrestrial networks and from satellites via partnerships with operators, including Starlink and OneWeb, which are set to compete with Lightspeed once Telesat’s network is slated to come online in 2027.More than half of Network Innovations’ customers are in the United States, followed by Europe and Asia. In 2017, Network Innovations also acquired Able Communications, a Houston-based satellite communications provider primarily serving oil and gas customers, from Telesat.“With all the disruption that’s happening in the industry from new business models and technologies, customers have way too many choices and have a difficult time navigating … how we might as an industry help them achieve what they want,” Dawson said.“For smaller companies, they don’t necessarily have the resources or the access to the technology that can best benefit their customers over the long term — and so that’s where guys like us come in.”Infosat is also strategically important for Network Innovations because, along with customer relationships, it comes with “a number of people that are hard to find in the industry,” he added.“And that just helps to bolster our total set of capabilities that we can bring to the market, whether that’s their customers or our customers.”Although most of Infosat’s assets were transferred to Network Innovations Sept. 1 following an initial round of regulatory approvals for the transaction, Dawson said the companies are still waiting for the green light to transfer certain communications licenses. http://109.70.148.72/~merchant29/6network/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/pexels-photo-27087100.jpeg TAMPA, Fla. — Canadian geostationary operator Telesat

has sold off Infosat Communications, a remote satellite services specialist, to bolster finances as investments in its low Earth orbit (LEO) Lightspeed constellation ramp up.  Calgary, Canada-based connectivity integrator Network Innovations said Sept. 3 it acquired the company from Telesat for an undisclosed sum, expanding its team by about … Read More

[equestrianempire]

Aaron Vale & Carissimo 25 Conquer the Contest in the $62,500 LeMieux Qualifier CSI 4*

Ocala, Florida, USA – March 07, 2024 – It was an evening of excitement at World Equestrian Center – Ocala (WEC) on Thursday, March 7, 2024, for the $62,500 LeMieux Grand Prix Qualifier CSI 4*. From the impressive field of thirty horse-and-rider combinations representing 10 nations, it was hometown hero Aaron Vale (USA) who galloped to victory aboard Carissimo 25.

Gregory Bodo (FRA) and Pieter Vitse (BEL) designed the challenging course in the WEC Grand Arena, which saw 10 talented duos jump fault-free and advance to the jump-off. Fourth to return, Vale guided Carissimo 25, an 11-year-old Holsteiner gelding (Cascadello x Clinton) owned by Debbie Smith, to a lightning-fast clear performance in 38.84 seconds. Ultimately, Vale could not be caught, claiming his second international win in as many weeks, having also won the $100,000 MARS Equestrian Grand Prix CSI3* during the 2024 Winter Spectacular Show Series Week IX.

Out of the starting field, an even 10 combinations successfully navigated the challenges of the first round, earning the opportunity to return to the jump-off. Ultimately, only four managed to achieve a double clear effort.

Trailblazing the jump-off, Gabriela Reutter (CHI) and Lumiere Horses Inc.’s Castle OJ delivered an impressive clear round, setting the time to beat at a swift 40.68 seconds.

Sean Jobin (CAN) & Coquelicot VH Heuvelland Z

Canadian rider Sean Jobin elevated the competition aboard the stylish 12-year-old Zangersheide gelding Coquelicot Vh Heuvelland Z (Catoki x Cassini II), clocking in at 40.50 seconds and shaving a tenth of a second off the leading time.

Aaron Vale (USA) & Carissimo

Returning fourth in the order, Aaron Vale and Carissimo 25 (Cascadello x Clinton) aimed to secure the lead. “I knew from one to two I could get eight with his ability. Eight to the double was almost too slow for him. The seven to the liverpool was slow and patient feeling. Then I was quick and efficient everywhere else.” 

Vale and the 11-year-old Holsteiner gelding crossed the timers in an impressive 38.84 seconds, securing a time that proved unbeatable.

“Down the road, to be number one in the world, I think I am going to have to find a few more strides to take out,” laughed Vale. “Tonight was about the plan, we stuck to it, and I couldn’t be more thrilled.” 

Vale has been selected to compete on the USA Team for the Longines League of Nations™ and is excited to compete for his nation on home turf, “I am really looking forward to it. It was a lot of fun to compete in Abu Dhabi and I think it will be even more fun here,” he continued. “I almost feel like there is more pressure this week because I feel like I can’t make a mistake. During [Longines League of Nations™] you know it’s going to be hard so if you get a rail, it’s understandable, but this week I feel like I have to perfect. So far, it’s going pretty good.” 

Callie Schott (USA) & Garant

Callie Schott (USA) and Southern Arches’ Garant (Warrant x Verdi Tn) clinched the final double-clear ride with a swift pace. Schott and the 13-year-old KWPN gelding completed the course in 39.87 seconds, just one second short of the winning time.

Callie Schott (USA) and Garant, a 13-year-old KWPN gelding (Warrant x Verdi TN) owned by Southern Arches, LLC, came the closest to matching Vale’s time, stopping the clock in 39.87 seconds for second place. Canadian rider Sean Jobin (CAN) completed the top three with Coquelicot vh Heuvelland Z, a 12-year-old Zangersheide gelding (Catoki x Cassini II), in 40.50 seconds.

Aaron Vale (USA) & Carissimo 25

Final Results – $62,500 LeMieux Grand Prix Qualifier CSI 4*

1) Aaron Vale (USA) & Carissimo 25: 2013 Holsteiner gelding by Cascadello x Clinton, Debbie Smith: 0 / 0 / 38.84

2) Callie Schott (USA) & Garant: 2011 KWPN gelding by Warrant x Verdi Tn, Southern Arches, LLC: 0 / 0 / 39.87

3) Sean Jobin (CAN) & Coquelicot VH Heuvelland Z: 2012 Zangersheide gelding by Catoki x Cassini II, Foxridge Farms Stables: 0 / 0 / 40.50

4) Gabriela Reutter (CHI) & Castle OJ: 2013 Irish Sport Horse gelding by Sligo Candy Boy x High Roller, Lumiere Horses Inc.: 0 / 0 / 40.68

5) Rodrigo Pessoa (BRA) & Dhalida: 2014 Zangersheide mare by Diamant De Semilly x Calvaro Z , Artemis Equestrian Farm LLC: 0 / 4 / 39.79

6) Amy Millar (CAN) & Truman: 2009 Selle Francais gelding by Mylord Carthago*hn x Kolibri, Millar Brooke Farm: 0 / 4 / 41.81

7)Daniel Coyle (IRL) & Farrel: 2010 KPWN gelding by Cardento 933 x Stakkato , Ariel Grange: 0 / 4 / 42.32

8) Tiffany Foster (CAN) & Electrique: 2014 Zangersheide mare by Emerald x Voltaire, Cox: 0 / 9 / 56.37

9) Andre Thieme (GER) & Paule S: 2014 Oldenburg gelding by Perigueux x Sir Shutterfly, Andre Thieme: 0 / RT

9) Andre Thieme (GER) & DSP Chakaria: 2010 German Sport Horse mare by Chap 47 x Askari 173, Andre Thieme: 0 / WD

11) Lucy Davis (USA) & Ben 431: 2011 Westphalian gelding by Sylvain x Quincy Jones, Old Oak Group: 4 / 71.01

12) Quentin Judge (USA) HH Medarco PS: 2014 Oldenburg stallion by Messenger x Darco, Double H Farm + The Creel Family: 4 / 71.86

Source: Press Release from World Equestrian Center

Photo: © WEC / Andrew Ryback Photography

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Categories: CSI 4*, English, Jumper News USA

Tagged as: Aaron Vale, Callie Schott, Carissimo 25, Coquelicot VH Heuvelland Z, CSI 4*, Equestrian, Garant, Horses, Jumper News, Jumper News USA, Results, Sean Jobin, Showjumping, United States Equestrian Federation, US Equestrian, USEF, WEC, WEC – Ocala, World Equestrian Center, World Equestrian Center – Ocala

[sophierequests]

a deal is a deal // set it up part one

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

A/N: I have no words or reason for this fic. I watched the movie 'Set It Up' recently, and I just knew that I had to write a fic inspired by it. I didn't intend on indulging in it this much, but this fic will definitely be a two-partner since I have written almost 10K words and I can't possibly post that monstrosity in good conscience. I absolutely love the concept of matchmaking and fake dating, so consider this fic one huge clusterfuck of tropes I enjoy. And I hope all of you can enjoy it too <3

You can find part two here!

Summary: Wylan and Jesper are helplessly pining over each other, and everyone is starting to get sick of it. Especially Kaz and the reader seem to have suffered enough under their friends' behaviour. So of course, the only reasonable conclusion is to set them up.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 5.0K

Warnings: Cursing, feelings, Kaz being a little bitch, pining, mention of his touch aversion

“Unless you saw someone cheat at Three Man Bramble, I don’t appreciate you spying on paying customers.” You were close to falling off your barstool when Kaz’s voice materialised beside you all of a sudden.

“For Saints’ sake, Kaz!” you hissed at the darkly-clad man leaning against the bar to your left, a certain look of amusement accentuating his features as he saw the way you panickedly held onto the counter. He shook his head at how easily startled you were. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that. I was dangerously close to knocking you out.”

He raised his brows, throwing a telling glance at his cane, and then back at you. Sneaking around wasn’t exactly his speciality. At least not during the main business hours of the Crow Club. He preferred to make his presence known.

“Didn’t I just tell you to stop prying?” Kaz repeated nervelessly when your eyes returned to the card’s table you had been staring at for about half an hour now. Not that he would know how long you had been sitting here. It’s not like he had been watching you during said half an hour. He had other - a lot more significant - tasks to tend to, rather than wasting his time by letting himself get distracted by you.

“Shush,” you silenced him quickly, craning your head slightly towards him to get a better view of your stalking victims. “I’m not spying on paying customers. I’m spying on Jesper and Wylan. That’s as far away from paying customers as it can get.”

“And why exactly would you do that?”

“Jesper went right to the gambling tables after we came back from the job earlier, and he has stayed there ever since. I assume you can guess who has been standing right next to him for just as long? Our little merchling is so in love, it’s painful to watch,” you whispered excitedly, completely ignoring the fact that Kaz was not one to necessarily care for dull relationship gossip.

“I should stop giving you this much time off if this is how you choose to spend it,” he grumbled, subtly following your gaze to watch the terribly awkward scene between the two Crows. Not because he genuinely cared about their immature ways of expressing their emotions, of course.

“Don’t be such a grump, Brekker,” you snorted, giving him a playful eye roll. “Admit it, they’d make such a cute couple! They could probably even compete with Nina and Matthias - don’t tell her I said that.”

“Judging by the fact that Zenik and Helvar were blood-sworn enemies before they fell into their…situationship, that won’t be such a difficult task.”

“See! You think they’d be a great fit too! What a shame one is just as oblivious as the other,” you sighed, twirling around the few remaining ice cubes that floated around in your drink.

“And you think staring them down will help ease their obliviousness?” Your head turned to face him fully, a mischievous glimmer present in your eyes. A glimmer he really didn’t like.

“Help me,” you blurted out.

“Help you with what?” he asked, a quizzical expression on his face.

“Oh, uhm, I have no concise plan yet since I thought you’d just immediately say no to me asking you for help. What I know is that I can’t watch them tiptoe around their feelings any longer. I need to do something. And you are precisely the right person to help me with that.”

“What exactly makes me the ‘right person’ to help you with getting these two idiots together?”

“Think about it. I’m Wylan’s best friend, you’re Jesper’s best friend - don’t you dare deny it! Together we can get all the intel - all the important information on how they feel about each other. It’s perfect! We could set them up and they wouldn’t even notice our involvement.”

“Absolutely not,” Kaz answered determinedly, choosing to not indulge in your childish games any longer. “As long as it’s not affecting their job performance, their relationship is none of my concern. I have more important things to do than worry about their problems with intimacy.”

“Come on, Kaz. Please?” you pouted as the man in question already shifted to head back to his office again.

“No, Y/N. They’ll be fine without our interference,” he tactfully ignored your overly dramatic plea.

“Alright, alright,” you mumbled, watching him leave with a hint of disappointment settling in your chest. “You’ll regret it eventually.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Jesper, you’ll need to- Jesper? Jesper, focus,” Kaz ordered, having to pry the sharpshooter’s eyes away from the window for what felt like the hundredth time today. He, Inej and the lovesick Zemeni boy had been working on the details of a minor upcoming job for over two hours, seemingly not making any noticeable progress. It was safe to say that this issue was instantly accredited to Jesper, whose mind appeared to be somewhere completely else.

Even though Kaz didn’t want to admit it, he did regret not taking you up on your offer of trying to get the two together. It had become more and more evident that they were too blind to see that their feelings were mutual, and Kaz was starting to get sick of it. Why couldn’t they just act on their feelings and spare everyone around them the pain of having to watch them act like insecure little kids? What did they have to lose? It was ridiculous, really.

Kaz knew that he was close to losing his patience. And his composure would jump out of the window soon after if things didn’t change.

“Sorry boss,” Jesper apologised hastily, sitting up a bit straighter and at least acting as if his attention was back on the mindless scribbles in front of him. “I was just a bit lost in thought. The…weather is so pretty today, after all.”

The weather in question was a mixture of dark gloomy clouds and the occasional rain shower - a typical day in Ketterdam, but definitely far from pretty. Maybe the weather that Jesper had in mind was ginger and able to play the flute, Kaz thought.

“We should probably leave this here,” he let out a huffed breath, meeting Inej’s confused glance.

“What? But the jo-”

“The job can only work if everyone is on the same page,” he interjected Jesper’s unnecessary attempt at defending himself. “You can leave - both of you. I’ll see what I can work out on my own.”

“Are you sure you won’t need any help with this?” the Suli girl asked hesitantly, waiting for her friend to give them another task instead of just letting them off the hook this easily.

“No, it’s fine. Go,” he nodded towards the door, his eyes following Jesper, who was already on his way out. Before Inej could do the same, he decided to give her one last task. “Inej? Tell Y/N to come up here in the next five minutes. I need to discuss something with them.”

“You wanted to see me, boss?” you questioned as soon as you entered Kaz’s semi-tidy office space. When Inej told you that he wanted to speak to you, your heart almost sunk to the bottom of your stomach. People being called up to speak to Kaz rarely ever got out with their dignity still intact.

“Sit,” he demanded, his gaze never leaving the papers on his desk as he motioned for you to sit in the chair across from him.

“Kaz, if this is about th-”

“Don’t start. Whatever you were about to tell me has probably not been brought to my attention yet, so I won’t allow it to occupy my mind until it pops up on its own. Now sit.”

You carefully obeyed his request, slowly sinking into the offered chair while your eyes still remained fixed on the man in front of you.

“He has become absolutely insufferable,” Kaz sighed, letting his fountain pen drop out of his hand and finally acknowledging your physical presence with a defeated glare. “I didn’t even think it was possible for him to become even more intolerable.”

“Who exactly are you talking about?”

“Who do you think I’m talking about? Our favourite bawdy flirt-gill has been acting like an infatuated teenage girl and it is driving me mad.”

“Oh! You’re talking about Jesper!” you let out a stifled laugh upon seeing his tired expression. “So you’re basically admitting that I was right about us having to intervene?”

“I’m merely admitting that there was some truth to what you were saying. Don’t get it twisted and don’t get used to it,” he corrected dryly. “And wipe that self-satisfied grin off your face. I didn’t call you up here to bask in your supposed victory.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do about it?” you replied sheepishly, fully aware that you were dangerously close to testing your limits.

“I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like this.”

“Consider it a deal.”

“When I told you that I’m agreeing to whatever you had in mind as long as it stops Jesper from acting like a dotty puppy, I didn’t mean that you were allowed to barge into my office whenever you please,” your boss grumbled, watching you stumble through the door like you had one drink too many.

“Good morning, Kaz, it’s lovely to see you too,” you dismissed his very obviously spiteful remark, walking right up to the chair you had dubbed yours. “I’ve been thinking a lot about our two problem children and I had an idea.”

“Oh, so miracles do happen,” he jeered, letting himself lean back in his chair as he watched you get comfortable.

“With all due respect - which isn’t a lot - go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll consider it once you’re done telling me about that magnificent idea of yours.”

“Okay, so, Wylan just stopped me in the hallway to ask whether I want to get coffee with him next Friday.” A waterfall of words began to tumble out of your mouth, giving Kaz quite a few difficulties following what you were trying to say. “So, wouldn’t it be an absolute coincidence if Jesper would also go out for a coffee on Friday? It would be such a nice change of pace for them to spend time with…different people - other than us.”

“I am not asking Jesper to go get coffee with me,” Kaz replied laconically, giving you a dissatisfied look in an attempt to convey that he was not too fond of your musings.

“I am not asking you to get a coffee with Jesper - Saints, that man is going to think that you have a thing for him. We don’t even have to leave the Slat for this plan to work.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“Please explain to me again why specifically I have to join you on that job?” Jesper bemoaned as he followed Kaz down the stairs. He was not in the mood for playing his boss’ bodyguard today. He wasn’t even in the mood to leave the Slat. It didn’t help that a certain merchling had been occupying his mind for the entirety of last week, pushing every coherent thought to the furthest corner of his brain. “Can’t you ask Inej? Or Matthias? Or literally anyone else? Wait, why don’t you just ask Y/N? You two seem to be getting along surprisingly well recently.”

“Y/N is already busy,” Kaz objected skilfully. “And having a normal work relationship is not the same as ‘getting along surprisingly well’. Flush these thoughts out of your system immediately.”

“I’m just saying,” Jesper snickered, putting his hand up in front of him defensively.

“Kaz? Jesper?” your cheery voice greeted them as soon as they entered the living room area. Wylan and you had been lounging on the couch for quite some time now, simply chatting about life - and love, even though Wylan refused to give you too much information on his ill-fated crush. Of course, you had ulterior motives for staying that long, but your friend didn’t know that. “What are the two of you up to?”

"We have a job near Fourth Harbour," Kaz replied sternly.

"And he's forcing me to come with him," the sharpshooter groaned, his eyes drifting towards the timid boy sitting next to you, flashing him a cocky wink. "What are you up to? Whatever it is, it looks like a lot more fun than whatever Mister Ruin-My-Mood has in store for me."

"Jesper," Kaz warned, throwing you a quick glance, wordlessly asking you to take over.

"We wanted to head out for coffee and some sweet treats later," you mused, watching Jesper's expression turn sour.

"Won't you look at that, Kaz? This is what other friends do in their spare time," he grumbled.

"Hey, why don't you two just go and grab a coffee?" you offered, your gaze wandering between the two soon-to-be lovebirds.

"Us?" Wylan stammered, his finger pointing from him to Jesper, who looked equally as befuddled.

"Yes, you. Jes clearly isn't in the mood for going on a job today, and I haven't been on a proper one in ages," you suggested, giving your friends an encouraging smile.

"You genuinely want to join Kaz on a job with just the two of you? Like willingly?" the Zemeni boy joked, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

"I'm sure I'll manage. Kaz?" You gave him an expectant look, watching as the ghost of a smirk flashed over his lips.

"Fine," he rasped, causing Jesper to break out into a wide grin, whilst Wylan looked a little short of horrified. "Maybe now we'll actually get some work done."

"And maybe we'll finally get some peace and quiet, won't we? I haven’t gone out just to get coffee in such a long time.” His attention turned to the young merch, whose head had turned as red as the soles of Jesper’s shoes.

“I’m sure you will have the loveliest of days,” Kaz deadpanned, gesturing for you to follow him outside into the hallway.

“Enjoy your day!” you called before quickly exiting the living room, leaving Wylan alone to deal with his crush. You could have sworn that he mouthed the word ‘help’ before you crossed the threshold to the corridor.

“That worked way better than I had expected,” he uttered, barely loud enough for you to hear his words clearly.

“I told you it would work,” you bragged, earning a disapproving headshake from the man standing next to you. “You’re not the only mastermind in this team.”

“So what’s the next step in your plan then?”

“We could just stay back here and wait for them to come back. I’m sure they’d tell us if something happened between them.” You locked eyes with him again, the intensity causing goosebumps to spread over his arms. “Or we could get out and follow them. Just to make sure that they’re alright of course.”

“I’m not following them.”

“This is ridiculous,” Kaz said as he watched you gape at Jesper and Wylan who were currently sitting on the terrace of the café you had pushed them to go to. You found a corner table at the bakery across from where your friends were sitting, giving you the chance to stay unnoticed while also being able to see whatever was going on between them.

“This is fun,” you hummed, leaning a bit further forwards to flash Kaz a cheeky smile, which was slightly hidden by the obnoxious fake roses in the middle of the table. “Don’t you want to see how this will turn out?”

“No.” You frowned at the impassive tone of his voice.

“You didn’t have to join me, Kaz.” He didn’t. He knew that. As a matter of fact, the pile of unfinished documents on his desk only seemed to get higher by the minute. Yet, against all his better judgement, he still abandoned his work in an instant just to go and see whether your plan was working or not. It was foolish to agree to it, however, for some reason, he still did. He was going insane - he was sure of it.

“I don’t trust you to not fuck this up on the first chance you get,” he stated after a short moment of him just staring at the empty space beside your head.

“You trust no one, yet I don’t see you holding Matthias’ hand whenever you let him go on a solo job - well, metaphorically holding his hand.”

Before Kaz could defend himself, the waitress approached your table, bringing over both of your drinks. She had a sickly sweet smile on her painted lips that made him want to bash his head onto the table. He resisted said urge in order to not make a scene though.

“I’ll assume the black coffee is for you?” the woman joked, eying Kaz’s grimly-looking outfit from head to toe, silently accepting the cup and placing it in front of him. She handed you the drink you had ordered and turned around to attend to the other guests. “Feel free to call me over in case you need anything else. Enjoy your date!”

Kaz almost choked on his own spit when he heard that. This was not a date. Not in a million years would he consider this a date. He attempted to seek some sort of confirmation that you shared his sentiment, but when he looked at your face, you didn’t even seem to care about the waitress’ atrocious assumption.

“What is it?” you inquired lowly on taking notice of his slightly bewildered expression.

“She thinks that this is a date. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“… No? Why should it have?” Kaz mentally thanked his luck that Nina wasn’t around. If she had been here to hear the way his heart was running wild she would have probably thought he had a heart attack.

“This is not a date.”

“Yes, I’m very well aware of that fact,” you let out a breathy chuckle in response to that. “And that’s exactly why it doesn’t bother me. I know that this isn’t a date. You know that this isn’t a date. So why should it matter what some random waitress thinks?”

“Oh…” For some odd reason, your answer disappointed him. This wasn’t a date, so you were right to say it. But something inside of him was beginning to make itself known.

“Oh no,” you muttered, your gaze back on the people you were actually here for. He did the same, regretting it immediately as he saw the uncomfortable scene playing out in the other café.

Wylan and Jesper were sitting across from each other at one of the tables on the terrace, giving you the perfect view of every interaction between them. But instead of them looking like the happy couple you had imagined they would be by now, Jesper was frantically collecting paper napkins, trying to help Wylan clean up the massive coffee stain that had formed a deep brown blotch on his previously neat beige sweater. And to make things even worse, the clumsy sharpshooter had taken matters into his own hands, pulling the flustered boy closer to him by the collar, whilst wiping a dry napkin over the mess he made - his face a mixture of despair and complete distress.

“Idiots,” Kaz sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to spare himself the embarrassment of watching them any longer.

“Maybe we should put them in a situation they’re more acquainted with the next time.”

“Are you familiar with the concept of knocking?” He was close to jumping out of his skin when the door to his office flew open without a warning, only for it to be you standing on the other side with two cups of tea in your hands. He hastily caught himself, acting as if you hadn't just scared him shitless. It was way too late for any person with even an ounce of self-preservation skills to enter his space without giving him any sort of notice, but of course, you just had to be the exception.

“Are you familiar with the concept of locking your door if you don’t want to be disturbed?” you quipped, not waiting for him to give you permission to enter before waltzing right over to his desk. The mug was quickly placed in front of him and you threw yourself into ‘your’ chair.

“This may be the Barrel, but some of its inhabitants still possess the basic manners of announcing their presence when they intend to bother me in my own office.” Kaz eyed your offering suspiciously, pulling the cup towards himself as if he feared that you might have spiked its content. “What is this?”

“Tea?”

“I know that it’s tea. I'm not dense,” he said, a bit annoyed now.

“Then why are you asking?”

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Kaz, you’re not a toddler. You know what to do when someone places a drink in front of you.”

“Why are you bringing me tea, Y/N?”

“That's an adequate question. I had another idea on how to get Jesper and Wylan to admit their feelings,” you began, enticing Kaz to internally question every single decision in his life that made him end up in this situation.

“And you needed to bring me tea to make me listen to that idea? You're either about to drug me into submission or you’re finally attempting to kill me.”

“Sadly neither - yet. But I had the idea while making tea. And I would have felt bad if I went up here without offering you something to drink too,” you replied meekly, a faint blush settling on your cheeks.

“I hope your idea isn’t tea-related. We shouldn’t bring the two dimwits near anything that's spillable anytime soon.”

"I solemnly swear there are no liquids involved in my idea. At least not explicitly," you assured.

"That better be the case. Let's hear it then," he muttered, begrudgingly taking a sip from his tea whilst waiting for you to collect your thoughts. It startled him how good the drink tasted. He hated that you knew exactly what tea he liked and how he liked to have it.

"You still haven't finished splitting us up in groups for the upcoming heist, have you?"

"If you hadn't dragged me along to play matchmaker, the plan would already stand," he grumbled, looking at the stack of blueprints he had yet to analyse for possible security risks.

"Then I'd like to make one suggestion. How about we - well, you - pair Jesper and Wylan together? We're all pretty familiar with jobs like this, so that shouldn't be an issue. Maybe having them work alongside each other could give their relationship just the push it needs."

Kaz looked like he was about to throw himself out the next best window. It was one thing that you had inserted yourself into the majority of his spare time like an unwelcome flu. Now you were also trying to insert yourself into his work? You were really trying to break him down to bits. And maybe he should let you.

"Please, Kaz. I'll even help you with all your boring preparation and mapping out. I genuinely think this could work," you put forward, knowing that the likelihood of him agreeing to this plan was close to non-existent.

"I'll allow it," he said, averting his eyes to look at basically anything else just to avoid letting them land on you.

"What?"

"Have you gone deaf? I said that I'll allow it," he repeated.

"Kaz, I swear to every Saint you don't believe in, I'm so close to kissing you - you’re amazing!" you exclaimed jokingly, a wide grin on your face.

"Do it and find out what ditch you'll end up in," he threatened, but you were too excited to care about the murderous look on his face.

After almost a week of scheming, scheduling and planning in the security of Kaz’s office, you had finally managed to put together a plan that would ensure two things. The success of the job. And the fact that Jesper and Wylan would be staying at each other’s side the whole time.

“I think we can pull this off,” Kaz muttered, visibly still very much in thought.

“You think we can pull this off?” you asked, absent-mindedly twirling one of his pens around your fingers.

“No.” He swiftly snatched it back, putting it down and giving you a self-assured grin. “We will pull this off.”

A few days later, all the Crows had gathered in the cramped attic space, more or less eager to hear about the plans for the upcoming mission.

“Please don’t tell me that we’ll have to go through all of these blueprints again,” Jesper whined as he saw the stack of layout plans that sat at the edge of Kaz’s desk. They had been on jobs in the University District before, so the quite hefty pile of blueprints wasn’t completely unknown to them. More than one evening had been spent slaving over them, spying out every minuscule detail that could give them any sort of advantage. But these plans were new - updated. And everyone dreaded having to do the whole ordeal of looking at them for a second time.

“Y/N and I already went through them, the annotations should suffice. Not much has changed,” Kaz answered, unaware of the suspicious glances his nonchalant comment created. It was well known that you avoided mapping out blueprints like the plague, so this revelation did raise some brows.

“Y/N and you?” Nina and Jesper blurted almost synchronously. They had noticed your absence from their usual evening get-togethers, simply chalking it up to you being under the weather or something. What they hadn’t expected was you sneaking away from them because you went to spend time with the Bastard of the Barrel. Now that they knew the latter had been the case, they had some certain thoughts on what the reason for these nightly visits might be - none of them strictly work-related.

“Congratulations, you have a basic understanding of auditory information processing. Yes, Y/N and I.” Kaz allowed his gaze to shift towards you. It felt odd to not have you sit in front of him, energetically discussing plans and ideas while the noise of Ketterdam’s streets seemed to have fully vanished underneath the sound of your voices. He hated to think that way, but he had grown used to having you around. Whether it be you staggering into his office to propose another utterly insane plot to get your friends to date, or just you keeping him company with whatever talk you could offer. The thought of this routine being ripped away from him once Jesper and Wylan realise their feelings are reciprocated filled him with more dissatisfaction than relief.

“Since when does Y/N care for analysing blueprints?” The Heartrender asked slyly.

“I don’t. It was my forfeit,” you replied before Kaz could. “We had a bet on how much money Jesper would be able to lose in a span of three days. Let’s just say that Kaz really does know you better than I do, Jes.” A lie. A good lie, Kaz thought. The only reason why you would spend your evenings talking to him would probably be the loss of a bet. But that didn’t make the pull on his heartstrings hurt any less.

“Rude,” the sharpshooter pouted.

“Anyway,” Kaz deflected, returning to his actual intention of this meeting. “We also took the liberty of assigning groups and tasks. So I’d advise you to listen carefully.” He adjusted the paper in his hands, letting his eyes fly over your jagged handwriting for the millionth time. “Helvar will pose as a guard - big and brawny with little to think about. One would say it’s the perfect fit.” Matthias let out a dissatisfied grunt at that comment. “Nina and Inej will keep an eye on who leaves, and who enters. And if there is anything suspicious you will alert me.” The two girls gave him a court nod, content that they were able to work together again. “I will attend as a guest. It’ll give me enough time and trust to hopefully get some information on the new ware shipments that are supposed to arrive the week after the ball. Our main objective is getting intel. Any other material acquisitions are just perks. And finally Wylan and Jesper.” The two boys stared at Kaz with an uncomfortable expression. He had never paired them up before. Why was he starting now? “Since the majority of university personnel will be present at the ball, you’ll take care of breaking into the administration’s office. I need some precise data on the involvement of the Council in sponsoring the university.”

“What about Y/N?” A brief pause followed Inej’s simple question.

After all these hours of planning, you had forgotten to add yourself to the equation. You had been so focussed on giving the two lovebirds some alone time that your absence went completely unnoticed. Both of you felt utterly stupid. How could you have missed that?

“They’ll be my date,” Kaz answered a bit too quickly, not letting the thudding of his heart betray his stone-faced expression.

“My condolences.” Matthias gave you an apologetic but calm look, whilst everyone else in the room seemed to be utterly shocked by their boss’ comment. Even you had to suppress the state of absolute shock that had threatened to spread over your face when he referred to you as his ‘date’. Saints, he himself didn’t believe the words that had just slipped out of his mouth.

“I’ll need someone to chat with the merchant spouses, or else I’ll lose my mind. Their presence can buy me enough time to get the information I need,” he explained, but the majority of his friends were too busy interpreting way too much into this situation to acknowledge his reasoning.

Maybe choosing Jesper as a partner would have been easier on his poor heart.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Kaz Brekker: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @juneberrie @writingmysanity @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @brekkers-desigirl @fall-writes

[sundarika]

Hello! Can I have some hc with a protective mama Reader with Naib, Helena and Bane. They are my precious baby. I haven't play this game since season 13 and I miss them so much ahhhhhhh 😭😭. Thank you, have a nice day ❤❤🌷 (sr, my English is not good)

✨ Your English is wonderful dear ✨

[Naib Subedar, Helena Adams, Gamekeeper] S/O Is Overprotective

✨ As a reminder, my works will always include gn!reader unless specified by the requester! ✨

———————————————————————

[Naib Subedar]:

* You had been at the manor for quite awhile now, and were a rather nice person, getting along with most other survivors, and even some of the hunters to boot.

* It was quite surprising actually. You’d walked in the first day with a tough-guy attitude and gruff personality, and you didn’t seem like a very approachable person.

* Then, some survivors such as Victor and Emily started worming their way into your heart. Liam [Lucky Guy] and Norton were some of the first people to offer you a seat at the dinner table, and from then on you were one of them.

* You had scars, though most could tell they were more physical than emotional, from some sidejobs you used to complete for a gang on White Sand Street—robbing people and competing in fights with rivals.

* You quickly learned that most people fought back. Rival gangs always intruded on your own territory, and you were always left on guard, defending the last remnants of your livelihood and your sanity.

* Maybe that’s why you’re so protective over your things. Never letting anyone enter your room, never letting anyone see the pain you hide. Opening up to people enough to make allies, but never enough to show secrets.

* Now Naib…. Naib helped you out a lot. It seemed he understood you, far more than others. For some reason, he was always there for you, watching your back when needed, acting like a shield at times—sometimes literally.

* You never really understood at first, how he seemed to know you so well. From what you knew, he came from halfway cross the world, from Nepal, in India—a child, a soldier, a weapon.

* You guessed his life was rather similar, and assumed he’d come to the manor for quite the same reasons but, it was hard to see through the scowl on his face.

* At some point, you began to recognize the signs, the irritation, the avoidance. You recognized the silence, and the stiffness that came from Naib when he ate and smiled and nodded at their questions. You saw the signs of a brother, somebody just as lost and broken as you were.

* Children in the bodies of adults, forced to live life too fast and too furiously. Damaged and done in, waiting for someone to save them, but too scared to cry for help.

* Unwilling to hurt others again, unwilling to change.

* You grew wary—observant—of him eventually. You joined in more matches with him as teammate, and sat next to him often at dinner. When you noticed he didn’t eat as much, you grunted in concern. When he fell asleep in odd places, you’d bring him a blanket.

* It got to the point where he found out about your help, and tried to dissuade you from wasting your time.

* You never really listened. In fact, your worries only increased. Others might not have recognized, but you saw the signs of fatigue and death written in the lines of his face. You’d seen it every day back on White Sand.

* He gave up on making you give up, tired of attempted persuasions. Eventually began returning the favours—Naib is the type to have a ‘you watch my back, I’ll watch yours’ mentality.

* Everything you’d do for him is returned in kind. It annoyed the rest of the manor to no end because the giving and receiving eventually reached limits unheard of.

* You’d throw yourself on a rocket chair to save him, and next game you’d have your own personal bodyguard tracking your every move.

* He’d never admit it, but he appreciates all you do for him, and hopes you appreciate his efforts in making your life a little better too.

* Though your protective tendencies know no bounds, he hopes you’re a little more cautious with throwing your life on the line for him like that. This is a death game after all, be more careful…. please?

* At some point, the whole manor hopes you two could just get together and kiss it out in some storage closet. If you’re dating, what’s the need to be so consistent in you’re protective tendencies? Then you’ll always be together, which means nothing can ever happen to either of you!

* To be fair, that’s what most of them thought until an incident after the confession, where Naib wouldn’t let you out of the medical ward for a week due to a few hairline fractures.

* Please Naib! Emily begs you to let her use the examination table! You’ve hogged it for 5 days and she needs it to identify the infection spreading on Aesop’s leg! Vera broke her nose! William sprinted into the gymnasium wall and shattered his kneecaps! Please leave!

* You once set fire to a couch because Naib stubbed his toe on it.

* Please stop it you two, Freddy can’t budget for anymore furniture, and we’re fresh out of chairs.

———————————————————————

[Helena Adams]:

* Oops! Oh no her glasses! Aww shucks, Norton knocked them right off her face and onto the hardwood floor. She can’t find them because she can’t see, whatever shall she do?

* [S/o]! Please, she needs your help!

* You come in running with a pair of pliers, five bottles of anti-grease spray, and a box of extra lenses and a screwdriver.

* Oh how wonderful! You fixed her glasses—again—and saved her from the task of shuffling herself on all fours looking for them! Her hero!

* Helena…. praises you to say the least. You’re her best friend, her confidante, her…. big and strong, sometimes dumb partner!

* She adores everything you do for her, and tries equally as hard to do things for you that make your life necessarily easier, though it’s harder with her condition.

* She met you around the same time as everybody else, during your first days in the manor. Really, she didn’t actually know you were there until she bumped into a voice she didn’t recognize and became surprised.

* You quickly learned about her blindness, and made it your goal to form a friendship with her based on your willingness to help her around and get closer to her—she was very kind after all.

* Your protectiveness stemmed from the inherent feeling of a need to help guide and provide for Helena, much like a spouse would… jk, unless 👀….

* At some points, you were berated by her for your incessant protections, most of which made her feel highly dependent, which she didn’t like.

* She liked the feeling of being independent of others and being recognized as an autonomous, capable being. Especially considering what she came there for, it was a blow to her pride to be led around and pushed aside all the time.

* When she revealed these feelings to you, you had surprisingly promised her to cease in most areas of monitoring—however you still consistently check up on her—and settled into the realm of a relationship with her.

* Helena meets somebody who respects her opinions + acknowledges her intellect + isn’t a dingy asshole? Sign her up and slap on a ring, she’s marrying this person (eventually).

* She knows that your tendencies stem from a place of need and want, and tolerates most of them. Deep down, she likes being taken care of by someone who knows she can take care of herself. She really does love you.

* When you’re actually in a relationship with each other, you make sure to watch each others backs, more so you than Helena (because she can’t ‘watch’ per say), but you get the point.

* There was once an incident in a duo’s match where Helena became stranded on the Lakeside Fishing map. The terrain is rough, with piles of fish everywhere, randomly placed boxes and walls, and the barrels are bad enough when they don’t form a blockade.

* Her navigational skills, as good as they are with all her previous experience and staff, couldn’t for the life of her figure out how to move her way around a mess of box paths, pallets, and fishing stands.

* Most other survivors were occupied or dead—it had been a hard match against Jack the Ripper and Guard 26—and she was barred from reaching any form of help.

* So she screamed your name as loud as she possibly could across the map, and ended up attracting the attention of BonBon instead. During those moments where she could hear his clanks and heavy metalloid footsteps stalking towards her, the tick of a time bomb in hand, she heard a screech in the distance.

* A fierce battlecry—you came raging from around a windmill, propelled by William’s football and packing heat with a flare gun. BonBon, now stunned twice, stood there in astonishment, before chasing after you, who had grabbed Helena in your arms, running off at full speed.

* Your stamina bar, indicated by a small tab on your character, was running low, and you wouldn’t be able to run at full speed for another minute or two, having used your ability to buy time. Stopping near a closet, you lean down to place Helena on her feet, telling her to hide.

* Her blood trail was invisible from not actually having run anywhere, and she did as you said, making you promise to come get her when it was safe.

* You gave her a smirk and a small nod, assuring her that you would, before leaning in for a peck on the forehead as you shoved her into the locker.

* If only you could see her flushed in embarrassment.

* Leaving her to fangirl in the locker, you form a decoy in your arms—result of your max rescuer ability—and ran off once more, taking off around a corner just as Guard 26 reached your previous location, chasing after you and ‘Helena’ in hopes of landing two more kills.

———————————————————————

[Bane the Gamekeeper]:

* How does it feel to love a deerman? Good? Okay!

* Bane as you know is a little…. rough around the edges so-to-speak, and he has a lot of edges.

* Once you get around all the hooks, chains, and bear traps, and beneath that creepy-looking deer head of his, he really is such a sweet guy!

* At least you think so. In reality, he still acts like a complete dick to everybody else, and only shows his soft side around you, but that’s because he knows he can trust you with his lands, animals, and secrets! All those others out there only wish to hurt what he—you—have, and he’ll make them pay for it.

* Honestly, in order for him to have fallen for you so hard to have let his guard down around you, you probably would have had to be at your most vulnerable point in life, or a hunter yourself. Like a scared prey animal, uncertain of its future, waiting for something to happen, and somebody to help, or a huge predator, ready to strike out at any moment.

* Once you worm your way into his cold dead heart, there’s no way out for you. He’ll keep you close, as he doesn’t want you to be poached away like his precious animal friends from the past. He knows how cruel humanity can be sometimes.

* When you come to find out about his less-than-kind history, it’s all you can do to pity him. Your sympathy knows no bounds, and you become clingier, though he quite honestly likes it.

* You don’t want what happened to him to occur again, and with all these other traitors and murderers in the manor, you’re afraid of what the others could do.

* You keep to his side a lot more, take walks with him in the garden, and enjoy tranquil picnics from time-to-time on Lakeside. Anything to keep him close to you and away from all the pain.

* Bane can obviously see what your doing, and noticing that your protectiveness doesn’t yet border on the insane, he allows you to continue in your devotions.

* It’s honestly sweet sometimes how you both adore each other so much, even if you know that one day one or both of you will have to leave. Whether it be through death, disappearance, or another means such as escape is a question of time, and one that neither of you know the answer to.

* If you’re also a hunter, than both of you know that while you two are happier now than either of you were in life, that your individual deaths and worths will eventually determine your fates—whether that be a happy afterlife, or an eternity of endless wandering.

* It’s well known that you’ll both disappear the day the game ends, your souls being put to rest as they should’ve been however long ago. Until then however, you’ll continue to hold on to and vehemently protect the relationship the two of you have, and you’ll fight until your soul vanishes from the earth for what you have to remain that way.

* Now, if you’re a survivor, this is where the relationship can be a bit difficult.

* Avidly defending the actions of your boyfriend during and after a match to the rest of your survivor buddies isn’t a very good look for you, or your reputation. It’s been many times where you’ve almost been chased out of the dining room because somebody was pissed at you for costing them the match, or being the only one spared instead of convincing Bane for a win or tie.

* As they say, if you can’t beat em’, join em’. Some survivors, such as William, Kreacher, and Freddy, have more than once suggested that if you loved a hunter so much, you should become one to be with him. Dating the undead almost crosses the line of what is humane. Aesop thinks you’re kind of cool.

* The hunters over on Bane’s side hate you more. Are convinced that you’re the sole reason that Bane goes friendly sometimes (even in matches without you in them), and that your relationship takes away from his brutal and violent persona and nature.

* Violetta and Michiko are the most tolerant of you, mainly because you gifted them silk and a hand fan for Christmas once when they wished for them in their letters.

* All-in-all, basically everyone blames you, but you keep going forward because who cares about all the nasty bi*ches in the world, am I right?

* Once, to prove the integrity and devotion of your relationship, you set Freddy’s room on fire and locked Kreacher in a closet. You looked Bane directly in the eyes and kneeling before him stated, “I have committed arson for you m’lord.”

* You couldn’t see it because of his deerish head and all, but Bane really went “Heart eyes motherf*cker.” on you in that moment.

* You love animals and set things on fire to prove your loyalty to him? Ticket for one please, he’s riding the simp train all the way to the station.

* Just, please don’t accidentally burn down the manor, he wants to spend as much time with you as possible before he disappears.

* Also don’t joke around with your life, it’s too precious, even when you tackle your own teammate or risk getting hit by Ganji’s cricket ball to save him from being stunned.

* He doesn’t want you dying before he does—has already he supposes—or disappearing without a trace.

* You promise you’ll stick with him until the day you finally leave this wretched place.

———————————————————————

✨ Hope you enjoyed ✨

[xjoonchildx]

guilty | knj x reader | chapter two: incheon mall tube tops

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 4.5K

notes: i really hope you guys are enjoying namjoon’s story! i think there will only be one more chapter after this.  and like a true unfocused writer i started daydreaming about a yoongi one-shot to go with it? gah, nevermind.  i really hope you guys like this and i’d love to hear how you feel one way or another.  a huge thanks to my amazing beta @hobi-gif​ who does a hell of a lot more than just find typos.  and all of my love has to go out to @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna​ @taetaewonderland​ because all three of you are so much more than tumblr friends.

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

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

It didn’t matter how hard you tried to hide your sadness, Namjoon saw it.

It didn’t matter how many hushed calls you tried to sneak, or how many smiles you tried to force -- Namjoon saw right through your act from the very beginning.  He’d seen enough to know that you were facing some kind of personal battle. He understood enough about you to know that you were far too private to bring it up or ask for help.

He should have asked.

The question sat heavy on the tip of his tongue for weeks.  He should have asked on the days he would spot you at your desk, fingers pressed to your temples in frustration.  Or on the days when he would catch you staring out the window, mind a million miles away.

He didn’t.

Instead, he let himself be driven to distraction by the way your blouses fit perfectly against the lines of your body. The way your pencil skirts hugged the curve of your hips. How soft your hair looked pulled into the low, loose knot you favored.

He found himself stumbling over his words when you’d quietly slip into meetings to deliver an urgent message or he’d drift off in the middle of conversations just because he’d caught sight of you outside his office door.

So it wasn’t long before what started as a preoccupation turned into a full-blown fixation.

You’d turn up at his request, poised and professional as always -- and he’d be lost in thought, defiling you a thousand different ways in his head.  Fantasizing about getting his hands on you, his mouth on you, his teeth on you.

You didn’t deserve that.

That’s why Namjoon kept his mouth shut -- stuck in a maddening cycle of wanting to help you, wanting to know you, just wanting you.

All of it made him feel guilty as hell.

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

The new girl is a fucking disaster.

Namjoon has yet to figure out how she manages to be underfoot at the most inconvenient times and simultaneously nowhere to be found when she’s needed.  She misplaces files and misses calls and forgets assigned tasks altogether. He’s lost track of the number of times he’s passed her desk to find her taking pictures of herself; lips pouted, angle skewed.

Two weeks ago, she was probably selling tube tops at Incheon Mall and now she’s playing gatekeeper to one of the most powerful men in Seoul.  So it’s not her fault that she’s woefully unprepared for this job.

And it’s not her fault that she’s not you.

Namjoon has spent the better part of the morning debating the call he’s about to make, picking up the phone and setting it back down at least half a dozen times.  But he’s at the end of his rope, running out of patience and options.

So he swallows his pride and picks up the phone just one more time.  

You answer on the first ring.

“Mister Kim.”

God, he’s missed the sound of your voice.  

“Good morning,” he starts carefully, clearing his throat. “I’m certain you have a lot on your plate but I was wondering if you could come sit with the new girl for a few minutes.  She’s struggling a bit.”  

The line is quiet for a moment and Namjoon can practically hear your thoughts on the other end of the line.  The ones that say well that’s what you get for replacing your perfectly competent assistant with a child.

“I left notes,” is the quiet reply that comes instead.

“You did.”

“Detailed notes. Written, detailed notes.”

“Yes,” Namjoon agrees, rubbing his fingers across his mouth.  “I’m certain they were quite detailed.  It’s just that she’s having trouble following those notes because --”  

“Because she can’t read?”

Namjoon cringes.  Any small hope he had that you weren’t taking your reassignment personally dies with the abrupt delivery of that statement.

“Apparently not,” he admits lamely.

He hears the quiet sigh you take in before answering.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

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

There’s a moment -- just after Seokjin has walked through his office door -- when Namjoon catches a glimpse of you.

You are leaned over the new girl’s desk, lips pursed, pointing something out on the computer screen.  Namjoon freezes when you look up and lock eyes with him just as the door swings shut.

Christ, is he ever going to be able to look at you without feeling like he’s had the wind knocked out of him?

He turns to find Seokjin staring at him, one brow raised.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon exhales, shoving a hand through his hair as he walks back to his desk.  “I’m fine. You said you wanted to talk about something?”

“I do,” Seokjin starts, helping himself to a seat. “Two things, actually. Both pertaining to the amazing new assistant you so generously gifted me.”

Namjoon’s nails dig into the palm of his hand.

“Go on.”

“Apparently she’s some kind of whiz with numbers,” Seokjin continues, unbothered by his strained response.  “I gave her a few of the books to look over and she already found a couple of our guys in the Songpa district skimming off the top. I’ll bet there’s even more where that came from and she’ll find it.  She’s got a good eye.”

Namjoon feels pride stir in his chest.  Yet again, you exceed expectations.  

“Send Yoongi and Hoseok to Songpa tonight,” he murmurs.  “I’ll be curious to hear what kind of explanation our friends come up with for their lapses in accounting.”

Seokjin nods.

“Will do.  So the other thing --” he pauses for a beat, like he’s trying to figure out how to carefully deliver what he has to say next.  “I know you asked me to try and figure out what’s going on with her and I think I have.  You’re right, she’s struggling with some personal issues.”

Namjoon leans forward in his chair, body rigid.

“Let me hear it.”

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

YOU

The new girl is a fucking disaster.

You have yet to figure out why she can’t work the printers or can’t read a simple spreadsheet when you know for fact she knows how to beam her selfies all the way to the goddamned moon.

It’s infuriating.

Just like it’s infuriating to see her seated at what should be your desk, doing what should be your job, working for the man who should be your boss.  

Figure shit out, you’d love to tell her.  Sink or swim, that’s how the real world works.  

The idea of letting her fail so dismally that Namjoon has no choice but to beg for you back is tempting.  But then he’d picked up the phone to personally ask you to help.

And apparently you are incapable of denying that man anything.

You’ve stayed late every day this week to review the spreadsheets Seokjin has given you to audit because of the extra time you’ve had to put aside to help the new girl navigate foreign concepts like filing and scheduling.

The numbers tell an interesting story.

The rumors about Kim Namjoon’s skill as a businessman don’t give him enough credit.  Money is pouring into the Gajog, hand over fist, from every major district in the city.  Billions of won flow into the organization from legitimate and not as legitimate revenue streams alike.  Combine the numbers and Kim Namjoon controls an empire worth trillions.

You stare at the sums and your mind flips back to your unexpected pay raise. It’s no wonder Namjoon can afford to be so generous.

It’s no wonder so many of the street-level men who work for him seem to be helping themselves to more than their fair share.  

It took you a few days to identify the patterns, comparing the new intake sheets to the old ones, but once you did the missing money practically jumped off the page.  Just a few audits in and you’d already been able to find at least 119 million won unaccounted for.

The Kim Namjoon you know is reserved and unflappable -- but this is information that’s bound to piss even him off.  

What is a man like him like when he’s angry?

You shudder at the thought.

Before long, the night sky stares back at you from the window across from your desk and you decide it’s well past time you went home.  You sort everything into neat piles and leave yourself organized notes before packing up to leave.

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

There’s no answer from your mother when you call to her from the hallway.  

You frown as you make your way to her bedroom, worry melting away when you find her asleep in her chair.  Her head is bent at a sharp angle, and you immediately move to help her prop her up.

Her eyes open to slits, unfocused from sleep and medication.

“Ttal,” she whispers, grimacing as she straightens out the crick in her neck.

“Eomma,” you whisper in a hushed rebuke. “We’ve talked about this.  You can’t fall asleep in this chair, it’s terrible for you.”

She nods slowly, pointing to a glass of water on her nightstand.  You hand it to her, but it wobbles in her weak grip and you take hold of it to help her drink before setting it aside.

“I’m hurting tonight,” she admits.  

“I know,” you sigh, heart breaking. “Come, let me help you into bed.”

The process is painstaking.  You help hoist her frail frame out of the chair and over to the side of the bed then work carefully to help her lie back.  There’s no meat on her anymore, just skin and bones, so you tuck her blankets carefully around her legs and arms until you’re certain she’s not shivering anymore.

You know this isn’t working.  

It doesn’t matter how many calls you make over the course of a day to check in, or how many well-meaning neighbors drop in to help, leaving your mother alone for hours in this state is a dangerous gamble.  

You fight back tears of frustration.  You grew up without siblings and your father has been gone for years. Being alone is something you’ve had a long time to get used to.  

But you’ve still never felt as alone as you do right now.

You think in the quiet for a while, stroking your fingers across your mother’s upturned palm, unsure of what to say, unsure of what to do.  

Unsure of what comes next.

“Kim Namjoon grew up to be such a handsome man,” your mother rasps.

The steady stroke of your fingers comes to an abrupt halt as the fine hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end.

“Excuse me?”

Your mother doesn’t repeat herself.

“Eomma,” you urge, nudging her hand with yours.  “What is this talk of Kim Namjoon?”

Her lips quirk when she closes her eyes like she’s recalling a pleasant memory.

“His mother was beautiful,” she breathes quietly. “God smiled on that boy. He looks nothing like his father.”

The dull panic that’s already started to pulse in your chest sharpens to a point.

She has to be hallucinating.  

She has to be taking too much medicine because nothing she’s saying makes any sense.  You fumble for the bottles on her nightstand, pulling off the caps and pouring the pills out onto the tabletop.  You count them over and over until you’re satisfied your mother hasn’t taken a dangerous amount of drugs.

“Eomma, why are you talking about Kim Namjoon?” you plead. “Help me understand.”

But when you look back to your mother, you realize your words are already falling on deaf ears. She’s slipped back into a sleep state once again.

If only it were that easy for you.

When you finally get to crawl into bed a short while later, you toss and turn all night.  

Somewhere in the haze between asleep and awake you dream of Kim Namjoon.

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

Your mother’s mental clarity is always better in the morning.  

After she’s had a night of rest -- and whatever medicine she’s taken has had some time to wear off -- she’s much more alert, much more like her old self.  But you still weren’t able to get anything by way of answers out of her as you made breakfast this morning.

You’d made her favorite cold cucumber soup before carefully broaching the subject of last night’s strange conversation.  You’d waited patiently for some kind of explanation about why she mentioned a man she hasn’t spoken of in years.

It didn’t come.

There was something odd about the way your mother went completely quiet at your mention of Namjoon.  Something odd about how adamant she was about not having any memory of the conversation at all.

That odd look on her face is the one thought on your mind as you make your way to work in a complete fog.  You slip into an open elevator and hit the button for your floor on autopilot.

You don’t even realize that you’re not alone until a soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

“I remember you.”

Your eyes flick up from their unseeing stare at your shoes to a young woman standing against the elevator’s back wall.  

“Miss Kim,” you breathe, brushing an errant hair out of your face.  Your cheeks are still stinging from the cold. “Good morning.”

Namjoon’s sister is a beautiful woman, without a doubt — but until this moment, you hadn’t realized how much she resembles her brother.  They have the same striking features, the same smooth skin and high cheekbones and full lips.  

They share the same dark, kind eyes.

“I remember you now,” she repeats, mouth curving into a smile.  “I knew I recognized you, but it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I finally connected the dots.”

“Well, I wasn’t around a lot when we were kids,” you admit shyly. “So that’s certainly understandable.”

“That’s true,” she agrees.  “And I try not to think back to those times a lot but you made an impression on me.  You were always so sweet.”

Your cold cheeks seem to warm at her compliment.

“Thank you.”

The elevator stops at her floor but she seems reluctant to end the conversation.  She leans against the door to prop it open.

“My brother,” she asks carefully, “Is he treating you well?  Is he a fair boss?”

You clear your throat, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Well, he’s not my boss anymore,” you admit.  “He replaced me not long ago.  But yes, he was very fair when I worked for him.”

Her lips part in a soft gesture of surprise when you deliver that news.  

She’s quiet until the elevator blares a loud reminder that it’s time to close the doors.  She smiles at you on her way out the door, opting not to comment on the quality of her brother’s staffing decisions.  

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she murmurs. “But I’m still really glad you’re here.”

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

An inviting scent is the first thing you notice when you get home that night.  

The second thing you notice are the voices.

You make your way down the long hallway with careful steps, trying to place the sound of the voice coming from your mother’s bedroom.  It doesn’t sound like Mrs. Sim -- in fact, it doesn’t sound like anyone you know.

You stop short at the sight that greets you when you round the corner.

A woman -- a complete stranger is in your mother’s room.

You stand frozen in shock as you watch the stranger read to your mother from her seated position in the chair next to the bed.  She looks up from the page when she realizes you’re there, giving you a better look at her pleasant, aged face.

“Aish,” she startles, clapping a hand over her chest.  “Here I was, worried about scaring you and instead you’re the one giving me a fright.”

It takes you a moment to find your voice.

“Forgive me,” you start weakly, “But who are you?  And how did you get into this house?”

The woman stands to adjust the pillow under your mother’s head before meeting you in the doorway.  “She’s resting now,” she says, nodding at your mother’s still form on the bed.  “Why don’t we talk in the kitchen?”

Should you be screaming right now? Calling the police?  

There’s no good explanation for why you do neither and decide instead to follow this complete stranger into your kitchen instead.  She walks to the stove to stir whatever she has cooking in the pot.

“Get off those feet,” she admonishes kindly. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day.”

Again you comply, inexplicably following orders.  

“I made Budae Jjigae,” she explains, ladling some of the stew into a bowl.  She sets it down in front of you, and you stare back at her like an idiot.  The stew smells amazing, and you’re immediately hit with a well-timed hunger pang.

“Who are you?” you ask again.

“My name is Jinjoo,” she replies sweetly, handing you a spoon.  “And I work for you now.”

“You work for me,” you repeat slowly.

“I do,” Jinjoo nods.  “Mister Kim hired me.”

The spoon clatters loudly against the lip of the bowl when you drop it.  For a moment, it’s hard to breathe. You have to wait for the strange sensation that snakes up your spine to subside before you speak again.

“Mister Kim.”  You echo her again, dumbly.

Jinjoo takes a seat next to you at the table, radiating a patient kindness that makes you want to give into the urge to trust her.  She smiles reassuringly at you, voice soothing when she speaks again.

“Yes. He said you needed help with your mother, and I can understand why.  I nursed in hospitals for decades, dear.  I can see your mother is in a bad way.”

You blink back at Jinjoo in stunned silence.

“I assure you, I’ll give your mother the best quality care,” she vows, patting one of your hands with her own.  “And Mister Kim has already paid me well in advance, so don’t even think about trying to get rid of me.”

That statement almost makes you laugh.  

You don’t want to get rid of Jinjoo at all.  Ten minutes ago you had no idea she existed and in the span of one conversation she’s become one of the most important people you know.  Tears well in your eyes as you stare into your bowl of stew, at a total loss for words.  

Jinjoo seems to sense how overwhelmed you are.  She gives you some space to process what’s going on, stroking one soft hand over your shoulder when she stands to leave.

“Eat something, dear.  I’m gonna go sit with your mother for a while.”

You look up at her with watery eyes and nod, reaching for the spoon.

“This smells really good,” you say softly.

“Well, I’m a great cook.  You’ll see,” she promises.

“Jinjoo -- “ you call out after her as she walks away.  “Thank you,” you manage, voice thick with emotion.  “I can’t thank you enough.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle when her mouth curves into a smile.

“You’re welcome.”

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

Jinjoo’s stew was delicious -- not that you had the chance to fully appreciate it.  

You’d sat in that kitchen alone for some time, eating slowly while you tried to process yet another bombshell in what seemed to be a series of them.  Everything that’s happened to you since Namjoon reassigned you has been a whirlwind; from the sudden pay raise to the sudden arrival of Jinjoo.

You eat the last of the stew with your stomach in knots.

Namjoon knows your mother is sick.  And you don’t know how to feel about it.

A part of you feels exposed when you think about him uncovering the sad details of your mother’s health battle. But knowing that he stepped in to help you fight it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in years.  

Cared for.

The sound of laughter from your mother’s bedroom echoes down the hall and you stand to follow it.  

Her favorite variety show is playing on the small TV in front of her bed, and it appears Jinjoo is a fan, too.  You lean in the doorway and watch the women giggle at the silly skit.  It’s been a long time since you’ve heard the sound of your mother’s laugh.  

It makes you smile.

“Jinjoo, could you give us a moment, please?”

You almost hate to interrupt the instant camaraderie between the two women but you recognize that your mother is in the midst of a rare moment of clarity.  You have to strike while the iron is hot.

“Of course,” she agrees, standing.

You wait until the sound of her footsteps fades away before taking her place in the worn chair next to your mother’s bed.  Your mother smiles at you, taking one of your hands into her own.  

You squeeze her fingers gently.

“Eomma, no more secrets,” you murmur.  “Tell me the truth.  Did Kim Namjoon come here?”

Your mother swallows thickly before nodding.

“He asked me not to tell you,” she admits.  “He said he didn’t want you to refuse his help.”

You shut your eyes and imagine Namjoon in your home, in this room. Speaking to your mother.  Making plans to send Jinjoo.  Your chest squeezes so tight that for a moment it’s hard to breathe.

“Okay,” you concede quietly.  You maintain the appearance of careful calm because you don’t want to make your mother feel worse than she already does., “It’s alright Eomma, I’m not angry, I promise.”

A peculiar look passes over her face.  Her eyes dart away from yours and that’s all it takes for you to know you don’t have the full story.  You decide to toughen your stance.

“Look at me, Eomma,” you say firmly.  “If there’s anything I don’t know, you need to tell me right now.  I need to know all of it.  Everything.”

“I -- “

“Just tell me what it is,” you repeat, patience hanging by a thread.

Your mother sighs, lifting one weak hand in the direction of her dresser.  You turn to stare at the pile of papers stacked there, realization dawning in an instant.  You move on unsteady legs to walk over and take hold of them.

Radiology, pulmonology, chemotherapy.  

You know exactly how much is owed on each of those bills because the numbers are burned into your mind. Those numbers are the reason you leave your mother for hours on end every day to go to work.  Those numbers are the reason why it’s so hard to sleep at night.

You don’t realize that your hands are shaking until you hear the papers rustling.

Every bill bears the same neat, handwritten marking.

paid -- knj

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

NAMJOON

Namjoon watched his sister leave early tonight with Hoseok. Seokjin is out to dinner with his wife.  And Yoongi is off doing -- well, whatever the hell Yoongi does when he’s not around.

There’s no one here tonight to tell Namjoon to go home.  No one to point out that he’s had too much to drink or that it’s happening far too often.

So he pours another scotch.

The glass sweats in his hand as he stands in front of his window, deep in thought.

Thinking about you.

Thinking about the way you struggled in silence, caring for your mother alone -- too proud to ask for help. The way you catered to Namjoon’s every need and whim without ever making mention of yours.  The way he’d let it go on for far too long, selfishly wrapped up in the way you made him feel.

“That girl is going to get you killed.”

Namjoon tells himself the sound of your voice is a figment of his imagination, an entirely predictable side-effect of too much scotch.  But it’s followed quickly by your soft footsteps against the plush carpet in his office and both sounds are too real to ignore.

He turns to assess you, quietly sipping his drink.

Fuck, you are beautiful.  

You have no right turning up here tonight -- looking like that -- testing him when he is at his weakest.  Your dark eyes flash with something like a challenge and Namjoon feels his blood warm.

“That girl is never at her desk and she has no idea who’s coming or going,” you accuse quietly.  “She’s putting you at risk.”

Namjoon concedes your point with a slow half-smirk that teases the edge of his mouth.

“Perhaps,” he admits.  “But there are different kinds of risk.  Maybe you put me at risk, too.”

He shouldn’t take pleasure from the way your eyes go wide at that statement.  Or from the way you overcompensate by standing taller, chin lifted high.

But he does.

“Mister Kim -- “ you start.

“ -- Namjoon,” he interrupts.  “Don’t you think it’s time you called me Namjoon? Haven’t we known one another since we were kids?”

“Namjoon,” you correct yourself, taking a deep breath. “I know about everything.  Jinjoo, the bills, all of it.”

Namjoon says nothing for a moment, draining his glass before setting it down on his desk with a heavy thud.

“Why?” you ask quietly.  “Why did you do this for me?”

Because I would do anything for you.  

He doesn’t voice that thought out loud.  He knows he shouldn’t.

But he also knows he shouldn’t be closing the distance between you right now, and he’s doing that anyway.  He steps closer, quietly, and you swallow hard, thrown by his silence and his advance.

“That’s not -- that’s not something you do for an employee,” you protest, slowly backing away.  You stop only when the ledge of his desk hits you on the backside.  

“The late nights and the extra hours.  Everything else you did,” Namjoon murmurs, stepping close, chest rising and falling with his deep breaths.  “Did you do that for your boss?  Or did you do that for me?”

He leans closer, caging your body against his desk.  Your lips part in surprise and Namjoon forces himself not to react when your tongue slips out to wet them.

“Namjoon, I -- ” your voice is barely above a whisper when you find it.  “-- I don’t understand you right now.”

“How could I have every resource at my fingertips and not help you?” he asks, reaching one hand out to cup your face.  The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips and you shudder under his touch.  “Why didn’t you come to me when you knew I could help?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, pupils blown and cheeks flushed.

“You should have come to me,” he admonishes quietly.  You lean into the touch of his hand.  “I would have given you anything you asked for. Anything.”

“I understand that,” you say quietly, the tremor in your voice betraying your attempt at calm.  “Because I would give you anything you asked for, too.”

Something about the way you say that snaps Namjoon back to reality.  

He looks down at you like he’s only just now realized that he’s loaded on scotch, leaning you over his desk -- and well on his way to taking advantage of this situation.  He tenses, pulling away.

“This is -- this is not --” he sputters pathetically for a moment.  “Go home,” he pleads.  “Please.”

He’s never hated himself as much as he does right now -- when you’re looking up at him with hurt and confusion in those wide, dark eyes.

“Go home before I do something I can’t take back.”

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

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[autumnslance]

"In the five years following your sudden disappearance from the Carteneau Flats, your ever-faithful chocobo spent each waking moment galloping across the realm in search of [his] lost master. [His] myriad adventures are nothing less than fantastical and heartbreaking...but that is a story for another day." - Legacy Chocobo mount description.

((Animal love, loyalty, and those bonds woven by fate. So there’s some animal angst and injury, but also a happy ending. Crossposted below for those who prefer Tumblr:))

“I need you to stay here,” her person said, rubbing her beak and scratching the white feathers of her neck.

She kweh’d softly, not liking the request but because he had asked it, she would obey and listen for the whistle binding them together, when he needed her to come to his aid.

The not-a-moon hung low and burning in the sky. The land’s aether tasted funny, the smells of nature were all wrong. Any creature with sense hid as fiends roamed.

People had little sense, she’d found. Especially her person; in his armor, his axe pulled from his back, he would throw himself into the fray with a shout to fight anything that harmed others. Normally, she would be right there with him, beak and talon and wings alongside his weapon, helping him.

“That’s my Snowlight, my good girl,” he crooned, leaving a kiss on the end of her beak before turning to join his comrades.

She had been injured in their last fight, trying to keep him safe, and so she couldn’t join him in this one but he still said she was good and that was what mattered.

She kweh’d encouragement after him, satisfied he turned back to wave one more time, before joining all the other people leaving to fight.

—-

The not-a-moon broke apart and released Horror. There were flames and pain and ear-splitting roars.

The stables were on fire.

Snowlight was too injured to fight, but not too injured to herd the frightened silly-headed carriage chocobos out of the flames. Not too injured to find the coughing stablemaster, knock a fallen beam aside, and herd him out, too. She even found one of the barn kittens, confused and afraid, carefully picking it up in her beak like a chick.

Snowlight was a good girl. Her person helped others, and so would she.

The Horror was over the field where she knew her person was. It was malms away and he hadn’t called but her heart fluttered wildly and she ignored the grooms and handlers to dash through the burning woods.

He needed her, she couldn’t let him—

The world went white, then red, then white again, and finally black.

—-

The world’s aether tasted thin and strange, like weak juice left out too long.

She pulled herself out of the little hollow of debris and ash, casting a cure on instinct at the twinges in her wings and legs and neck, the injury on her side--the one that had kept her in the stable to begin with--throbbing again. The cure helped.

Snowlight blinked, trying to get a sense of where her person was, the location of the whistle attuning them to one another.

She couldn’t find it.

She shook out her feathers and limped on to where she thought maybe she had last felt it, in the direction he had left with his friends and all the other people, toward the setting sun--though it was currently obscured by angry clouds and more ashes.

Familiar places looked strange, though Snowlight couldn’t really put a talon on why or how. The forest was oddly silent, slow to wake from the disaster. The Elementals seemed especially distant.

She foraged for berries and greens, then slept. She was cautious of water she found but had to drink; the rain that fell later helped a great deal, though it was also heavy with dust and grief. She foraged more, and then slept more under a rocky outcropping.

The pass to the north felt wrong, cold winds blowing from the hills. So she kept heading west, through the less familiar hills, to get to the gloomy place.

Snowlight could always find the gloomy place, especially when the wind blew right. It felt like a scab on the world, the magic—and Something Else—waiting under the lake’s surface. It was an easy place to find, if weird.

It took a couple days for Snowlight to reach the gloomy place; slower than usual, but she was still recovering from her injuries and the paths through the woods were not easy to navigate. There weren’t as many fiends roaming around, at least, and the ones that were could be easily avoided.

The other creatures were waking and coming out of hiding again, too. She was a little less lonely, with the small birds singing.

The gloomy place was more of a mess than usual, a crystal spire piercing the air and giving off waves of suppressed magic. The corpse in the center of the lake continued to sleep but she gave the shore wide berth, both for its slumbering guardian and for the poison filming the water.

Snowlight continued west and a bit south, still not sensing her person, nor had he called for her on the whistle. She couldn’t teleport without the pull of the whistle. Her feet hurt but she kept picking her way through the ruins of machina parts.

She went to the camp for food, but it was empty, the aetheryte exploded in size and twisted in shape, the tents and supplies torn and burned. There were no people anymore.

Snowlight kweh’d sadly, rummaging through the wreckage for anything edible. She was rewarded with burnt gysahl greens, tasting faintly of staticky aether, but it was enough to raise her flagging spirits. After considering the twisty former aetheryte for a long moment, she decided one of the half-fallen tents at the edge of the old camp would be all right for sleeping in. There was still enough man-smell to keep wild creatures away.

—-

“Well ain’t you a beauty,” the big man with the rough voice said. “Fetch a good price at market.”

“To hell with the market,” the skinny man whined. “I’m starved and it’ll feed the whole bloody camp.”

“C’mere—” the scarred lady reached for Snowlight.

She beat her wings and shrieked. The trio swore and threw up their hands to protect their faces.

Snowlight was almost to the terrible place, full of twisted aether and death. The last place she knew her person had been. This trio had come upon her as the noon sun struggled to break through the thick clouds. They smelled of blood and offal and desperation, and she did not trust them.

The whiny man ducked close, so Snowlight leapt and kicked him, throwing him into the lady with a shout.

The big man managed to snag her neck, his arms squeezing. “C’mere you overgrown chicken I’ll—”

Snowlight shoved back and up; she couldn’t fly far with the aether currents so warped, but it was enough to startle him, and now he clung to not fall even the few fulms she had lifted him. She bucked until he slipped off and then she flew away as fast and as far as she could.

There was a whistling noise and a sharp pain in her flank but she swerved and pushed faster, hearing the hissing whistle of more arrows. She fought against the weird currents and her own weary wings, risking crossing a high bank that abruptly dropped into a narrow ravine, almost like a frozen wave of earth instead of water.

On the other side she landed heavily and ran, feeling warm liquid trickle down her leg, the arrow still lodged but loose enough to shift and pinch with every motion. Even so, she pressed on.

She was close.

Spots crossed her vision. She no longer heard the mean people; only the wind. Panting, she stopped finally, swaying on her trembling legs.

Where was he?

She spent a bit of strength to cast a cure, the arrow forced out as the flesh healed. She had to rest, but the mean people might still chase her. And she had to be close to where he was. Surely it was simply the damage caused by the Horror that was obscuring the connection, his call.

He had to have tried to call her. He couldn’t go this long on his own.

There were more people dotting the ruined plain, but they were easy to avoid now that she knew she had to be sneaky. She picked her way through smoldering magitek and torn earth and twisted structures that felt Wrong and smelled Strange. There were bodies, but none of them the one she looked for, thankfully.

A whiff of his scent caught in her beak and she kweh’d happily, seeking more. Still he did not respond, it was merely the scent of his previous presence. Perhaps he was among the people.

She drew as close as she dared to the tents. To the warm, gentle pulse of the Seedseer.

His scent was not among the camp.

Snowlight pondered this as she tried to retrace her steps to where she had caught that whiff. The field was scorched, the ground rippled from the blasts of competing magic. The aftertaste of the old mage lingered on her tongue, though it had a more bitter endnote than she recalled. Snowlight kweh’d again, digging for the scents of her person and his companions, catching hints and traces, but not finding them. Not finding him.

A voice called. She looked up and saw a yellow-clad man pointing in her direction. She turned and jogged away before the Adders could come close. While they would likely be more friendly than the bandits earlier, she had not the time for them.

She still had to find her person.

—-

Snowlight found hiding spots, keeping away from the Adders and adventurers still lingering. The taste of healing magic hung over the camp, competing with the blood and pain.

The camp was the best place to find food, though; this terrible place had none naturally anymore, blasted away or warped beyond recognition.

Snowlight was a good sneak; her person had often said so, when she played the hide and seek game with him. She would hide something he used and he had to find it. It was always great fun. She had also used it to swipe food before, risking a scolding but it was her person’s own fault for trying to deny her treats when she needed them.

Her sneakiness came in handy as she maneuvered herself into the Adders’ flock and helped herself to some of the feed provided. The destriers were too tired themselves to snap or fuss and besides, she could easily fight any of them into submission and they knew it; she was an adventuring bird, after all.

She was careful to keep the others between her and the soldiers, to not let them notice or catch her. It was tricky, given her bright white plumage compared to most army chocobos. But Snowlight was a good sneak, and managed to avoid getting caught. She had things to do, after all, and had to be ready if her person called.

She still couldn’t sense him. She still had not heard his whistle.

Snowlight slipped out of the flock, leaping the makeshift fencing while the handlers were busy. Then she returned to searching the broken plain.

The Adders were getting ready to break camp; there were few bodies left amid the wreckage of the battlefield, few new wounded found. They had worked tirelessly for over a sennight, the Seedseer and the conjurers sparks of the natural world amidst the carnage.

Snowlight returned again to the place where she had scented her person and his friends. She circled around it once more, a periphery she had scratched into the ashes as she tried to figure out where they had gone. How they had gone.

“They aren’t here,” a gentle voice said.

Snowlight warked and jumped, whirling to face the weary Seedseer as she leaned on her staff. Even exhausted, power thrummed through the padjal’s frame, a barely held summer storm. She smiled at Snowlight.

“I think I recognize you,” the Seedseer said. “Yes...I can’t quite recall…” She frowned. “I don’t remember their faces. Their names. But I know you were with them, once.”

Snowlight listened, keeping still. It was only polite in the padjal’s presence. As the Seedseer paused, though, Snowlight asked a tentative “Kweh?”

The Seedseer shook her head. “I don’t know where they have gone. One moment, they were there. I know I must have seen them. But all I remember are their silhouettes in the light. And then…” she trailed off, a perplexed look on her face. “I only know they’re gone. I’m sorry.”

Snowlight chirred in frustration, ruffling her wings. She didn’t understand, and usually the padjali were easier to comprehend than other people. What the Seedseer said made no sense.

“I know, it’s difficult,” the Seedseer said, voice cracking in grief and weariness as she reached out a hand. “But come; we can take care of you, and—’’

Snowlight was a good girl. Usually. The Seedseer was to be respected. Usually.

Snowlight shrieked and reared, flapping her wings as she backpedaled from the startled padjal.

“Wait—” the Seedseer called as Snowlight whirled and dashed, avoiding the soldiers who followed the padjal, who tried to catch Snowlight on their mistress’ command.

A soldier stood in her way. Snowlight warked a single warning before barrelling over and past him, ignoring the shouts.

They were hard to hear through the rushing, pounding feeling in her head, the ache in her heart that already felt like it had run for malms.

She ran up a tilted piece of machinery, a giant wall that had fallen from the not-a-moon and flapping her wings took off, flying toward the boggy saltmarsh to the north.

Her person wasn’t there, but neither were the soldiers, or the Seedseer and her painful words.

Snowlight would rest. She would eat. She would recover. Then she would keep looking for wherever her person had gotten to.

She had to. Snowlight was a good girl.

—-

Snowlight was so tired.

Her plumage was not as bright as it had once been; she had not had a proper grooming in a long time, and injuries and life in the wild had left her more ragged than she had ever been. Her person had often called her the prettiest chocobo in Eorzea, though she looked nothing like that now.

He still had not called. She still could not sense him. She still searched, though; the Seedseer was wrong, and he was just lost. He had lost the whistle in that Horror. He was waiting for Snowlight to find him.

Sometimes, curled up under a tree or in an abandoned building or an old cave, she would sleep and dream of the days they had rode together. Of their adventures, their games, his laughter, his scritches. His warmth as he leaned back against her side while the campfire crackled, his voice as he talked about so many things. She almost never understood, but he had such a nice voice. She missed hearing it.

The dreams were happy, but waking from them was sad. Snowlight stood, ruffled her feathers, and kept looking.

She had sought him out in the ruined reaches of the western marsh and the terrible place, through the gloomy place and its unsettling waiting feeling. Through the Wood, the Elementals barely whispering anymore, rarely waking from their slumber. She crossed the scrublands and burning sands, even risking the golden plains and the lizardmen who rode across them. She picked her way among the rocky mountains, and into the frozen land in the north, the wind and ice aether unrelenting even in the height of summer.

Snowlight was not yet certain how she could cross the strait to the island; it was just about the only place in the realm she had not looked over the last five summers and winters. The Seedseer’s words echoed in her memory again but Snowlight shook them away.

Her person was somewhere. She just had to find him.

She was back in the Wood. She would have to head west past the gloomy place and the salt marsh. If she didn’t want to be caught, anyway; she would have to find a way across the sea that did not involve people.

Sometimes she found people in trouble; beset by fiends or bandits, lost children crying alone, hurt people needing a cure. Snowlight had once been a good girl, and her person had helped people. So she scared off the fiends, fought the bandits, cast a cure on hurts, and guided the lost to safety. She sometimes, warily, took food and rest from those she helped. But then they would try to keep her—or worse, turn out to be mean themselves, and so she left as quickly as possible. Some wanted her for her plumage, some for riding or working, some for food. She wanted nothing to do with them as they were not her person.

So simply best to avoid people now.

Snowlight was tired, and so missed the snare that entangled her feet, triggering a second that caught her wings.

She flailed and shrieked. There was a prickle on her neck and she felt very woozy. It was getting dark again, but that couldn’t be right as the sun had just come up.

“Finally got ‘er,” a man’s voice said from...above her? When had she fallen to the ground? She warked and tried to struggle as careful hands gripped her. “She’s a tough ol’ bird for sure, but once she’s broken in…”

The world went black, and Snowlight dreamed of running across an open windy plain, her person laughing and whooping on her back.

—-

“Gods take you, you miserable bitch!” the stablehand yelled, clutching his bitten hand.

Snowlight just chirred a warning low in her chest, her feathers ruffled up as she glowered at him, beak clacking another warning.

No one here called her a good girl. Snowlight did not feel like being good, when they kept her hobbled and more often than not in the stable. The most experienced hands would put a lead on her halter and let her run alongside them for too brief a time in too small a pen each day. Most of them were kind, and she usually felt bad after snapping at them with her beak, or scratching them with her talons.

But none of them would let her go to find her person, and her person had not come for her here, so she didn’t want to stay.

A quiet presence stepped up behind the stablehand. He turned to the slim young woman. “Nevermind this one; she mighta been some adventurer’s bird once, but she’s gone wild. Don’t like anybody, this ‘bo.”

The woman simply took the lead and approached the stall.

Snowlight turned her eyes to the woman, and her rumbling ceased. There was something oddly familiar here, but Snowlight wasn’t sure what. Tall for the kind of person she was, midnight hair, and…

Snowlight tossed her head and kweh’d, confused but excited. She had caught a scent, a scent she had only ever smelled on her person before! This woman had the same underlying tone; a warm spice that left Snowlight trembling. She barely noticed when the woman snapped the lead onto her halter.

“Good girl,” the woman said quietly, pitched in a way only Snowlight could hear—just like her person used to do, and though this woman’s voice was higher and gentler, there was something in the way the words were shaped, something in the timbre of her voice, that felt right and familiar.

It had been so long since someone had called Snowlight a good girl.

The stablehand was boggled as the woman opened the stall and led a quiet, nearly docile Snowlight out and to the exercise pen. Snowlight paid him no mind; she was trying to figure this out.

The woman led Snowlight to the pen and let her jog on the long lead. She didn’t get fussy or scared when Snowlight stretched and beat her wings. It would be easy to escape any other handler who allowed that.

But Snowlight knew the woman was an adventurer, and adventurers were strong and tricksy. And there was a quiet strength and unrealized power in this woman.

She felt like Snowlight’s person did.

The woman offered her some gysahl greens and scratched her neck just the way her person used to, finding exactly the Right Spot. Snowlight sighed.

She was so tired.

“Been awhile since you trusted someone,” the woman said. Her accent was definitely the same as Snowlight’s person, and the same tone if higher. Her scent was the same too; not just soaps and the smells people put on themselves, but deeper, in blood and bone. When Snowlight peered at the woman, here in the daylight, there were ways she moved, the way she smiled, the color of her eyes, that were the same as his.

The woman let Snowlight run a little longer, putting her through paces using the same foreign words her person used to, the ones meaning “slow down” or “speed up” or “stop” and “go.” She gave Snowlight more greens and pets and then led her back to the stable.

The other handlers were confused, whispering, uncertain. One came close and Snowlight snapped at him out of habit. “Shh,” the woman said. She didn’t scold or jerk the halter, just laid her hand on Snowlight’s neck. “We need to brush you down.”

Snowlight did feel itchy after exercise. Still, she didn’t want the others muddling things up, not when she was trying to figure out this woman and why she felt as right and familiar as Snowlight’s person had.

The woman took her time, giving Snowlight a thorough bath and brushing. She did not let the woman trim her talons though, or check in her beak; not yet. There were limits.

Snowlight’s stall was clean and there was fresh feed and cool water. The handler she had bitten earlier shook his head, hand now bandaged. “Dunno what you did, but thank you. Poor old girl was running wild for years, near as we can tell. One of many who lost their riders in the Calamity, is my guess. She’s had it rough and won’t let folks near—until you.”

The woman shrugged and smiled.

“Well thank you. You’re welcome to return and help anytime.” He was only partly joking.

The woman simply nodded, retrieving her bow and quiver from the hooks where she had left them, before she turned to go.

Snowlight lifted her head from the feed bin to kweh a goodbye to the woman. The woman turned and smiled, waving to Snowlight.

When Snowlight fell asleep that night, she dreamed of her person, as usual. But the woman was also there, her laugh joining his.

A couple days later, Snowlight was kicking a ball toy in her stall, bored until it was time for the handlers to come take her to exercises again. She stopped kicking the ball and perked up at hearing a certain step, catching a certain scent. She kweh’d toward the quiet presence entering the stable.

“Hello,” the woman said to Snowlight. “Did you want to train again?”

Snowlight kweh’d and ruffled her feathers happily. She liked this quiet woman who reminded her of her person. She thought perhaps they were from the same clutch. After all, Showlight could tell when two chocobos were related, and while people were different they had their own families too.

The woman hung up her weapons and picked up the lead rope. Snowlight allowed the woman to guide her out into the exercise pens and they played for well over a bell. Then the woman bathed and brushed Snowlight again, before bringing her back to the stall, freshly cleaned by the other handlers.

The woman stroked Snowlight’s beak. “Good girl,” she said.

Snowlight preened.

The stablemaster was nearby and shook his head. “No one’s been able to get near that bird for moons. You come along and she’s docile as anything.”

The woman shrugged. “I didn’t do anything special; just treated her nice.”

“All any of us tried,” the stable master sighed. He peered at Snowlight. “She ain’t changed her attitude to the rest of us, neither.”

“I should be back in a few days,” the woman said. “I can help again then.”

“We appreciate it,” he said. “Maybe she’ll calm down with repeat visits from someone she trusts.”

The woman nodded, and gave Snowlight one last scritch before heading out once more. She turned and waved again when Snowlight called to her. That was nice.

—-

It had been nearly a moon since the woman’s last visit.

Snowlight had gotten used to the woman coming by every few days, looking and smelling and sounding so much like her person had; it was like having a part of him back as they trained and played and cleaned up together.

But now, after those handful of visits, the woman had not returned, just like her person had not, and Snowlight was so tired.

She no longer snapped and scratched at the handlers, but now they could not coax her to eat more than the bare minimum, or play, or train.

They were good people, really; they just weren’t hers, and she wasn’t theirs. The people Snowlight wanted simply hadn’t come back.

Snowlight dozed in her stall, ignoring the sunny day and the other chocobos and handlers. Then a certain sound caught her attention, a familiar step. She blinked awake, catching a familiar scent, and kweh’d.

The woman rounded the corner and smiled as Snowlight bounced and trilled excitedly. The stable master followed, smiling too.

“Can’t say you don’t deserve it, though you sure this is the bird you want?”

The woman nodded, a giddiness to her usual calm presence that made Snowlight even more excited, too, though she did not know why. “I think she and I get along just fine,” the woman said to the stable master, turning finally to Snowlight. She scritched Snowlight’s neck. “I even have a name picked out. My brother and I used to come up with them as children, when dreaming of having our own chocobos.”

“Well much luck to you both,” he said, holding out his hand.

Snowlight trembled with excitement when she saw what he held; a whistle, just like the one her person used to have. The whistle that had tied them together, made her always able to find him--until she couldn’t.

The woman took the whistle, then looked back up at Snowlight. “Do you want to be my chocobo?” She asked, almost sounding nervous.

Snowlight thought about it. She had a person--once upon a time. He was gone now, but this woman was so much like him, possibly from the same clutch...So maybe it was all right. Maybe this person wouldn’t leave Snowlight behind--and if she did, Snowlight would do her best to find her.

After all, Snowlight was a good girl.

“Kweh-Kweh!” Snowlight agreed, bouncing excitedly. She would be an adventuring bird with a person of her own again!

The woman grinned, and after a few moments, the spell was complete and the aetheric bond formed.

Snowlight’s new person led her out of the stable, accepting the fine reins and saddle the stable master offered. “After all you’ve done for Gridania, not to mention taking on Ifrit himself, it’s the very least we can do,” he insisted. “And I’m just happy to see this girl get a fresh start and a good home.” He patted Snowlight’s shoulder. “What are you gonna name her? For our own records.”

Her person smiled. “For a white bird my brother and I could never decide between our favorites, so we combined them,” she answered. “I’m going to call her Snowlight.”

“A fine name,” the stable master said.

“Kweh-Kweh-Kweh!” Snowlight cheered, the last shadow of doubt faded; her new person even knew her name! This was the best day since…

Well, since her first person had chosen and named her.

Her person swung onto the saddle, thanking the stable master again. Then she leaned forward. “All right, girl; let’s go!”

Snowlight dashed out of Bentbranch, her person laughing on her back, to begin their adventures together.

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios University

The Durant household was even busier than usual as the final semester of university began counting down. Lucy had been consulting with both Yvette and Launce Durant about how to proceed with her legal education, and Elaine had insisted on accompanying her daughter. Most nights Yvette and Lucy huddled together at the dining room table, surrounded by Arkhelios legal papers, while Launce made the odd comment every hour or so, and then left to rejoin Elaine in the living room. Noelle also came with them, but never because Lucy wanted her to. Lucy was oddly determined to keep her daughter away from the Durant house, but Launce had a young daughter close enough to her age, and the Rivales twins living with him, so why not bring her along with them? Truthfully, Elaine suspected there were entire days when Lucy forgot that she even had a daughter. Unlike Abe, Lucy seemed to be content with leaving her child with Elaine and Ironman for long periods of time so that she could “study”. Abe had learned to make Theo a priority in his life despite getting off to a bit of a rocky start with parenting, and Elaine could only hope that Lucy would follow suit soon.

It wasn’t easy to be a grandparent, and Elaine made sure to mention this as often as she could while sitting with Launce. He’d understand soon enough when Ulyssa or Jorah had kids. it was nice complaining to Launce again, just like she’d done as a teenager when they’d had too much homework, or her father was being too hard on her. He listened now just as patiently as he used to back then.

Yvette was ecstatic to find someone interested in following in her footsteps, and gave Lucy every tip she could remember about navigating Arkhelio’s legal system. Lucy was going to be graduating with her bachelors degree soon and now had further decisions to make about her future. If she wanted to practice law in somewhere giant and archaic like Pleasantview, she would need to apply to a law school there to study further. If she wanted to stay in Arkhelios to practice, she could skip law school and take a short certification program, as Arkhelios had very few laws in place to study. Judging by the shocking number of deaths in the past few years that most people now just brushed aside, even the laws that were in place seemed to be simple guidelines only. Pleasantview law would have minimum sentencing guidelines, or criteria for judging the severity of a crime, along with any precedents set with that law. Arkhelios law never wanted to infringe on a citizen’s freedom, so even the most heinous murder could be hotly debated and punished with a slap on the wrist. Their own founder had been murdered in cold blood in a public place and most residents seemed content to simply blame Kamalani and forget that the whole thing happened.

Even with some slight maternal neglect, Noelle was turning out to be a happy, well adjusted toddler. She had won over the Rivales twins in a matter of minutes, and Theo absolutely adored her. She was a lot less mischievous than her cousin, and if anything, Elaine had noticed a sharp decline in Theo’s usual tantrums since she’d been babysitting the two of them together.

The only downside that Lucy could find with learning from the lawyers in the Durant family was that they were members of the same family as Ulyssa. Granted, Ulyssa wasn’t in Arkhelios often, but the few times that Lucy had crossed paths with her had been awkward. Ulyssa usually put on a forced smile, and started talking about inane things like the weather while Lucy did her best to pretend that she was talking to a stranger and not the secret mother of her child. Ulyssa looked happy, and Lucy was certain that she was happy, and Noelle was doing just fine with only one mother in her life. Everyone was happy.

Ulyssa was all too happy to leave whenever Lucy was around, considering that Lucy was now beginning to cultivate a reputation that rivaled Roman’s as a teen. She was competent, and smart, but more aggressive and self absorbed than usual. Learning how to present arguments in court had begun colouring her everyday conversations, and Ulyssa was somehow always her first target to attack whenever she was near Lucy.

“Were we ever that young?” Elaine laughed, reaching for Launce’s hand without thought. They often sat close together when their families gathered under one roof. They were both elders now; let Arkhelios gossip about them. Elaine didn’t care.

“She’s a lot like her mother,” Launce replied with a smirk. “Feisty, and stubborn. She’s going to change Arkhelios, or burn it down trying.”

“I don’t think Emilia has ever approved of anyone her children have brought home with them before,” Elaine said. “This may be a Rivales family first.”

“I’m not certain that bullying Ulyssa away from her own family home is the most prudent choice for the family,” Emilia scolded, and Lucy rolled her eyes. “She is about to marry royalty, and even if she weren’t, she would be a strong candidate to be the Durant family heir. I’m not sure that you want-”

“Oh don’t worry,” Lucy interrupted. “I know exactly what I want going forward. I have big plans for our family. The Rivales family will be safe with Kaeileen and I heading it, we don’t need to tip toe around someone who’s barely in Arkhelios anymore.”

Emilia couldn’t decide if she admired this young woman or if she wanted to slap her for her condescending tone. She had ambition though, which none of the Rivales children had ever shown before, outside of Pia’s desperate need to have her family’s approval. Kaeileen seemed to be coming out of her shell with Lucy challenging her, which was exactly what Emilia had always wanted from her granddaughter. Lucy was what her dear Giovanni would call a spitfire, who got things done, and Emilia knew that Lucy would have his blessing to help Kaeileen take the reigns of the family one day. She got along with the Bellamys, worked closely with the Durants, and embodied the same Helios spirit as her mother. In many ways, Emilia couldn’t have arranged a more perfect match for her heir to marry.