#unfortunately nothing that puts Ferris on harm's way

[latenightsundayblues]

I fucking hate ferris bueller. So much. That little shit. That piece of subhuman trash. His sister was absolutely right what is wrong with that asshole. He's a terrible friend and annoying and cocky and I wanted his beta male friend to run him over with the fancy car at the end of the movie. Im so bummed he didnt get caught i wished he would die

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Host.”

here is a fun little story for today, I hope you all like it. I had a lot of fun writing, so I hope you have fun reading.  This was adapted from a viewer suggestion, so I hope it is what you were looking for. 

They were out mapping the milky way. It was probably going to take the next thousand years to put any sort of dent in discovery for their own galaxy, but the GA already had a handle on andromeda, so Admiral Vir felt it was his duty to get a head start on the milky way. 

Leaving a few of his other ships to get a start on the Orion arm of the milky way, he determined to start with Perseus staring from the outside and working in. Using advanced GA technology, they took multiple scans of the proceeding star field, marking planetary systems where earth-sized rocky planets are located in the Goldilocks zone. 

He wouldn't have told this to anyone else, but he may or may not have manually marked locations that he wanted to visit because they looked cool. You know like planets whose carbon content suggested that it might rain diamonds, or an icey eyeball planet tidally locked with its star creating a circle of water where ice dominated everything else.

Unfortunately, no exotic lifeforms, but that was alright he supposed, no big deal. 

He had seen enough aliens to technically last a lifetime, and while he would never argue with more, he definitely could not complain.

So he happily directed them from one strange new world to the next, hoping beyond hope that they would find something interesting and strange to explore or study, well more explore and less study considering he wasn’t exactly the ‘science’ type’. 

He was looking for something that the scientists would yell at him for if he tried t touch.

He sighed at the thought, good times.

“Airlock 2 deck 7 engaged.”

He reached up to the side of his helmet and pressed inward, “Copy.” before dropping his hand back onto his lap where he sat atop the space cycle.

His feet flexed lightly against the cycle pedals as the door opened, kept in place by the pull of strong magnets against his boots.

A line of several other space cycles followed him outside, three or four of them curving around the side of the ship to take a look at an impact site along her upper starboard side.

There had been a collision alarm of course, but none of the systems seemed to be damaged, so this check was nothing more than a precaution.

While they were working on the ship, Admiral Vir had grabbed a group of other scientist to go with him in order to explore a large spiky ball of ice they had discovered floating about in the middle of space. It was a rather large ball of ice, maybe the size of a small moon, though it’s gravity was hardly strong enough to interfere with the cycles.

People back at the UNSC argued that position as Rear Admiral meant having a desk job, but he was determined not to be benched, besides, it was his ship and he could do what he wanted within reason. Furthermore, no one else on his improvised ‘jedi council seemed to mind what he did as long as he ran it by them first.

No one wanted to take planetary exploration away from him, and he was just fine not to point it out.

All around them the vastness of space was dark accept for the distant winking of lights plastered against the firmament. If he looked up, he saw stars, and if he looked down, he saw stars.

No matter how many times he flew in space that sensation never went away, and he found himself shaking of a sudden sense of vertigo as he maneuvered his cycle towards the edge of the glassy ice surface. A group of scientists clustered together, taking samples of the ice and speaking excitedly to one another as he floated forward into an icy tunnel opening.

Let them geek out about dirt and ice, he was going to go exploring.

Using a mapping system on his suit, he allowed the object to track where he was and how far he had gone as he floated some ways into the darkness.

The single beam of his forward headlight rolled over the walls and floor, casting a dim illumination back at him as he rode inward. It seemed to him, strangely that the ice glowed green and blue as he passed.

For a moment he imagined that he could  hear the creaking of the ice and the echo of his engines in the darkness, but knew that fantasy wasn’t the case considering there was no room for noise in a vacuum

Everything outside would be completely silent.

He angled his cycle up as he came into a large cavern and picked one of the outgoing tunnels to explore. The beam of his light rolled and slithered over exposed ice giving him an eerie feeling, like walking into an ancient cathedral or long abandoned cave.

He was just raising into the next tunnel when there was a sudden violent jerking motion to one side, and the magnets that held his boots to the cycle disengaged. He found himself flipping end over end, and then the lights went out.

***

He sat politely in the alien ship hands folded neatly in his lap. 

He glanced down at his watch, and then looked back up at the surrounding scene. He was in a large cavernous room, whose walls seemed to be more organic than they were metallic. Great pillars of dense purple ferry material rose into the air giving the alien ship it’s chape.

Admiral Vir checked his watch again. He had about an hour until someone noticed that he was missing.

That was fine.

Just stay calm.

All of this was honestly par for the course with him, and it wouldn’t due to be rude to his hosts.

There was a slight echoing off to his right, and he turned to watch as a group of those strange creatures floated in. He wasn’t entirely sure how they floated, as there was no inflatable sack that he could see, like the Vrul. In fact he would have described them almost like large tadpoles. They were blue/black/purple in color with a large, round bulbous head and a single great orange/yellow eye in the middle. This upper half allowed the creature to float, and below it, a short, stumpy tadpole-like tail wiggled and waved in the air to propel them forward.

If they had been any smaller he might have considered them cute, but at almost five feet tall, and floating two feet off the ground, they were a strange and unnerving site.

Little trains of bioluminescent dots in green and orange ran up their sides, giving them a strange, almost electronic quality, though they were clearly organic as well.

The group of them floated over, gathering around him like an excited group of children.

He waved.

“Hello, um, just thought I should let you know. I am totally cool with this, and all, but I am due back on my ship in an hour, so…”

The group of them moved closer, one of them gently grabbed him by the hand and hauled him to his feet using its tail as a prehensile arm.

He took to his feet and followed after them

They seemed polite enough, so why not. It was no skin off his nose.

Unless they did, in fact, want the skin off his nose in which case, he was going to have to protest just a little bit.

He walked with them into the next room where they let him go before beginning to prod at the outside of his suit.

He held up a hand, “Hold on, just give me a second.”

He glanced down at his atmospheric reading, to find that, while oxygen content was higher than normal, it was still breathable.

“You’ll want me to take off my suit first. You know, make it to the squishy center.”

He reached up, popping off his helmet with a hiss and gently setting it down on the floor. He was hit with a sudden wave of smell, that reminded him of burnt rubber and…. Roses?

The group of creatures pulled back slightly as if they were surprised.

He went about removing the rest of his suit before he was left standing in astronaut footie pajamas, his hood pulled back from his hair.

“Better?”

The group of them clustered in a bit further.

One of them lifted its tail to prod at him, but paused, its great orange red eye seeming to turn, looking at him.

Wawas it hesitating?

How very polite..

He waved a hand, “Go on, I don’t mind. This isn’t my first rodeo you know.”

The creature tentatively reached forward to prod at his hand.

He raised it to give the creature a better look articulating his fingers and wrists so the creature could see his full range of motion, “See, the fingers move because of the tendons right here, and those tendons are connected down here on my forearm.”

He knew they didn’t understand him, but it was sort of a coping mechanism to keep him relaxed.

This was sort of a routine for him, and it wouldn't due to go freaking out in front of his new friends.

He let them feel his hands flexing his fingers so they could get a good look at the tendons.

Another one of the creatures approached him, this time holding some strange device in its tail.

He sat down hand still held up for the others to examine.

The thing with the strange device floated over, setting the thing down to the side to prod at his hair.

He shivered as its muscular tail rolled over his scalp, like a snake slithering through his hair.

“Here friend, if you want to do some tests.’ he reached up, and yanked out a couple strands of hair, holding them up to the light so the alien creatures could see. 

They floated backward and then the one rooting around in his hair reached over for its device, using it to collect the hairs he offered to them.

He patted one of the creatures on its side, “Very polite you all are.”

He held out his arm, rolling up his sleeve, “here you go, some skin scrapings or a blood sample or something. I can't exactly tell you how to find it, but I’ll let you have it.”

They glanced between each other, and one of them gently took his hand while another ran something along his arm. He could feel metal scraping over his skin, and when the creature withdrew, it left a raised red line in its wake.

It pulled back a little glancing at him in what seemed to be concern.

He waved a hand, “No harm done, it will go away in a few minutes. Look”

He dragged his fingernail down the other side of his arm to show them that they hadn’t hurt him, and that seemed to relax them as they continued on with their examination.

He remained politely seated as they did their testing running their tendrils over his back while one or two of them played with the rotation of his ankle,

“So you see that’s how we started dating, and I know, I know some people think it’s weird, but the more and more it goes on, the more it just seems…. right , you know.” he raised his arm rotating his shoulder so they could get a good look at the articulation, “The problem now is telling my family. I mean, I think they totally suspect you see, but I don’t know how well they will take it when I ACTUALLY confirm their suspicions. Like I mean I think my brothers will be cool about it, especially Thomas and Daviid, but I don’t know about my parents.” One of the aliens approached with a strange strip, holding it up to about face level, gently prodding at his cheek.

“Oh is this the saliva swab part? here , let me get that.” He reached up and took the strip from the alien passing it into his mouth to allow it to soak up some saliva before handing it back. The creatures seemed pleased and floated away.

“All in all though, I think life has really been going well for me so far. I mean I haven't been kidnapped in a while.” He paused, “Well aside from today, and I’m pretty sure I am in a very good place mentally.”

They approached again with another machine, this time holding a cold, round metal piece up to his throat as he talked. 

It almost seemed as if they were listening.

He took a few deep breaths for them, before beginning again, “Plus I have an entire Armada of ships, did I mention that. Well, technically they aren't MINE per se, but I definitely consider them to be mine. The GA even gives me command of their fleet when in times of war, so pretty awesome I think. Not that I have ever gotten to command them all at once, and i sort of don’t want to.”

He reached up and took gentle hold of their device as they tried to pull away, “No, you are going to want to hear this.”

He unzipped the front of his astronaut suit pulling his arms out and letting the upper half dangle around his waist as he pressed the cold little circle to his chest just above the heart.

They took turns listening, seeming very interested.

He then held the thing up to the side of his neck again, so they could hear the same sound in another part of his body.

The link seemed to excite them, “Yeah, gotta carry oxygen to my dumbass brain somehow.” He said leaning back and moving the device to over his stomach, “Get a load of this.”

He smirked a bit as his stomach made a prolonged grumbling noise, and the group of aliens looked around at each other in some concern. He sat up and patted his stomach, threading his arms back through the sleeves and zipping himself back into the suit, “Yeah, people think it’s weird too, don’t worry.”

They wandered off after a second, and returned with a large floating machine in the shape of a circle.

The implant on his left wrist went off, and he looked down to see that it was detecting x-ray pulses. Not enough to be an issue, but enough to be detectable.

“Oh x-ray for my skeleton and insides or whatever.” He stood and held his arms out to his sides for them palms facing forward like all humans stood in medical textbooks, “Light me up.”

There was a pulse of x-ray energy that spiked in his implant for a moment before receding.

They wriggled excitedly pointing out something to each other.

He wandered around to see what they were looking at and found that he was right. His skeleton stood there in full glory, though his leg and metal eye were causing some distortion.

“Hmm gotta get you a better picture, hold on.”

He wandered over to the bench, and undid to the footie part of his right leg pulling it up to mid thigh before detaching the prosthetic.

That shocked them a big 

He had to hold up a hand to calm them down as he set it off to the side.

“Hold on, its alright, I have a real one right here.” he undid the pant leg of his left foot so they could see properly, and they moved forward in fascination, one of them prodding at his prosthetic.

He then flipped up his eyepatch before turning away, “You aren’t going to want to watch this.”

WIth a quick movement, he popped out the prosthetic eye and covered the socket with his eyepatch turning around and holding up the eye to show them, “here you go, kind of crazy isnt it.”

The one that had been prodding at his leg moved over to take a look at the eye, seeming greatly fascinated.

He motioned the x-ray guys over, setting his eye down and hopping up to one foot motioning them to try it again. Hesitantly they seemed to understand and took another snapshot. This time the image was much better, and they seemed very pleased as he returned, popping his eye back in and socketing the leg back on.

“Not to shabby huh?”

They did a few more noninvasive scans as he continued to make smalltalk, occasionally patting the strange alien on its side. Eventually they began to mimic the movement, patting him on the head or on the shoulder when he was doing something they wanted. He enjoyed having the encouragement.

At one point he was sitting in the middle of a group of about ten of them as they simultaneously prodded, articulated and examined different body parts. The same one from earlier was still playing with his prosthetic, which was sort of adorable to watch.

At one point, his implants began to buzz, and he held up a finger to his new friends, “Hold on, I have to take this.” He reached up, pressing the side of his neck to answer the call.”

“Admiral Vir speaking.”

“Admiral, thank goodness, where are you. We found your cycle but, not you…. ar e you alright!” It was simon speaking 

He lifted up his foot so one of the creatures could bend his knee, “Oh yeah, I’m perfectly fine, but making new friends.”

Simon seemed annoyed, “Admiral, you can’t just go missing like that. It is very irresponsible, and overly juvenile.”

He stood and twisted around so they could get a better look at the flexibility of his spine, “Well, Actually Simon, I was given an invitation I could not refuse.”

“Admiral this isnt funny.”

He sighed, “Simon, I'm not kidding. I am on an alien ship being propped right now as we speak. I repeat this is not a joke.”

The angry growl from the other end of th line told him that she did not believe him.

“Hold on, let me send you a pic.”

He held out his hand before him, rotating the camera around so it faced him, “Everybody say Admiral Vir isn’t a lying bastard!”

There was a minute flash, and then he sent the file.

There was silence on the other end of the line before, “No Fucking way.”

“Yes, anyway, just give me a few minutes and I will be right out.”

He cut off the channel and stood patting the creatures on the arms as he walked over and began pulling his suit back on, starting with the boots and working up. They watched for a few minutes until one of them wandered over and began handing him pieces.

He smiled, “So polite. Anyway, I have to go.”

He secured the chest piece and held the helmet under his arm, “Which was is out?”

One of them grabbed him by the hand and gently lead him out of the room and back the way they had come.

Once they reached, what he assumed to be the docking bay, one of them reached down, grabbed his helmet and gently slid it over his head, locking it into place. Then it patted him on the helmet. He returned the gesture

“SO nice, now, there is something I should give to you.” he reached into an router containment pouch on his suit, and withdrew a data stick  gently passing it to the next alien over ,’On there you will find the coordinates of one of the GA offices and a communications line to talk with them. I would suggest making contact. The GA would love to have you aboard, and I would be more than pleased to see you again.”

The Alien wrapped its tail around the stick and blinked long and slow at him. He patted it one more time before motioning to the door.

The group of aliens slowly filtered from the room, and there was a sharp hiss as the airlock opened, and everything went silent.

Jauntily, he leaped from the opening, turning on his head lamp as he went sailing a good hundred yars into the dark until the minute gravity pulled him down to the icy surface.

He hoped his way through the tunnels until he caught another signal.

“Omen, this is Admiral Vir, sending my location now.”

He didnt have to wait long until a rushed group of concerned marines descended on him, dragging him onto the back of a cycle before flying him out and back towards the omen

Returned nice and cozy in the ship, he pulled off his helmet and looked over at Ramirez, “What do you think, Cyclopes or Mikes.”

Ramirez tilted his head, “Mikes?”

“Yeah Like that little one eyed monster Mike Wizowski from Monsters Inc, you know since these guys only have one eye.”

Ramirez stared at him blankly and he nodded to himself, “Mikes it is then.”

Ramirez just shook his head and sighed, “You seem relatively calm for a guy who just got kidnapped for like the twentieth time.”

“I wouldn't say kidnapped actually, more like cordially invited. Kidnapping implies they weren't going to let me go. Actually very good hosts, and hopefully, if we are lucky one day they will join the GA 

Ramirez just sighed and shook his head again, “Nothing surprises me anymore.”

“Oh I'm sure you’ll be eating those words next week.

He thought about it for a moment and then shrugged with grudging acknowledgement. “You're probably right.” 

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 54: Domestic

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Fifty-Four: Domestic

Note: The reception the last chapter received warmed my heart. I seriously loved reading your comments! They were so wholesome! V needed a friend, damn it! I was worried that taking a chapter for something that slow would kill the pacing, but you all seemed to enjoy it. So thank you! Coming up next, like two solid chapters of unpleasant revelations and plan making. Boy oh boy, is this a blast to read. I can’t wait to see the horror on your faces in the next chapter. Well, not literally, but you get the idea lol XD

(-~-)

Sun pierced the thin shear shroud that hung over the window like a bridal veil, blanketing the room in semi-darkness. What little light shone through was just enough to disturb the occupant of the room who turned to the side in an attempt to avoid the blinding light that he suddenly found in his eyes. Even with them closed, his eyes still didn’t find pleasure in the presence of the outside light. It seemed that being part devil was enough to make one a bit photosensitive. But considering that devils were creatures of darkness, that made perfect sense.

He couldn’t remember the last time that he had slept so well, turning his head to the left to discover that the love of his life was indeed still in the bed with him. Her arms were wrapped around his waist, head buried in his chest and shoulders. It was honestly difficult to see anything more than the top of her head from under the covers, her satire compared to his placing her much lower in the bed than himself. It would never stop being funny to him that she was so put together when she was awake but was so entirely capable of decimating a bed cover when she was asleep. Quite the juxtaposition if you asked him.

It was early in the morning still, so that made sense. She had no reason to be up yet, and she more than deserved her rest. The children wouldn’t awaken until the smell of breakfast made its way up to their room. And if he remembered correctly, it was Saturday. Crepe day. Perhaps he could just lay here and pretend to be asleep until it was time to devour them?

But it was not to be so. A moment later she turned over, releasing her and popping her head out from under the bed covers like a turtle’s head exiting its shell. He resisted the urge to giggle like a schoolchild at the sight, instead turning over onto his back as he raised his right arm over his face in a bid to block the morning light. They genuinely needed some blackout curtains. The sun was just awful this time of year.

“Goodmorning, Nero. Are the boys awake yet?” She yawned deeply as she stretched her arms over her head, her face down in the pile of about eight pillows that she had insisted upon buying and knitting little pillow covers for. He could barely understand her due to how muffled her voice was, but he’d caught the gist of it easily enough. It seemed that despite the fact that she was speaking, she wasn’t quite awake yet. He’d yet to see a single eyelid open.

Mornin’, Kyrie. Hope you slept half as good as I did.” Nero slid up into a sitting position, stretching his arms over his head, stretching. He’d arrived late last night, just before the boys had been sent off to bed. And just in time to let them taste the leftover pasta he’d brought from his older brother’s house for them to try. “No, they’re still asleep. Haven’t heard anything yet. Probably because it’s still so early.”

“Oh. I hadn’t noticed.” She turned in the general direction of the window, her eyes still mostly shut. She seemed to be making an effort to squint, though. “What time is it?”

Nero looked over at the clock on the bedside table. He still didn’t understand why it was on his side of the bed. Kyrie was the only thing he wanted to wake up to. (Oh my god I’m soo cheesy please help.) “It’s a little past 6 am.”

Bolting upright, Kyrie’s eyes were suddenly very open indeed, the young woman clearly startled by her partner’s answer. That had not been the answer that she had been hoping to receive. “Oh no oh no oh no… I’m so sorry! I’ll go make breakfast right away!”

In her haste to get out of the bed, she became tangled in the blankets, tumbling forward. Nero quickly migrated towards the edge of the bed, confused and probably unreasonably worried considering the fact that they were on a floor covered in a plush rug. “Kyrie are you ok-”

“Whoops. Silly me. I guess I’ll have to make up the bed before I get started.” She giggled uncomfortably, squelching her head down between her shoulders as she smiled in obvious embarrassment, he cheeks turning a bright pink that only served to highlight her pretty freckles. “I’m alright. Not to worry.”

The youngest descendant of the dark Knight Sparda let out a sigh of relief, sliding over the side of the bed to help her up. There had been little potential for actual harm to come to her, but he was still glad that she hadn’t hit her head on the wardrobe or something. The last thing he wanted was to see Kyrie come to any sort of harm.

“Forget about the bed. I can take care of that. Are you sure you’re okay?” He stood up and grasped both of her hands in his own, pulling her carefully to her feet. Kyrie had a habit of being slightly clumsy when she was in a hurry, something that this little scare had definitely made obvious. He was just glad that she seemed to be just fine. It was far from the worst thing he’d ever seen happen to her, much to his distaste and her misfortune. What had gotten her so flustered in the first place? “What’s going on?”

She giggled in embarrassment again, closing her eyes for a moment as she scratched the back of her head. A stray strand of bed hair snagged on her nail, coaxing a small yelp from her as she rubbed the spot in question. She then let out another small yawn, her eyes watering slightly as she rubbed the last of the sleep from them. “Nothing. I’m fine. I just don’t want to make you late, so I meant to get up about an hour ago to make breakfast. I know you said you have something important to do with your father today, and I don’t want to hold you up, but I don’t want to send you out the door hungry, either.”

Nero blinked in confusion. And then he paled. Oh no, he had totally forgotten about that! He wasn’t late just yet, but he absolutely saw her point. There were supposed to be making a plan to deal with Belial today, sometime within the next two hours! He hadn’t given it a single thought since he’d woken up. His only thoughts had been on the delicious breakfast that he was so looking forward to.

Hurrying down the stairs, kyrie ran off to prep whatever she was going to need to make breakfast before Nero left. They had just under an hour and a half before he needed to be back at V’s house, so she was going to need to hurry if he was to leave on time. And unfortunately, crepes were not one of those things that could be hurried, much like many of the dishes from the food’s country of origin. But to be fair, that was what made them so enjoyable to eat.

Quickly throwing the blankets back onto the bed and layering them into something vaguely akin to a satisfactory condition, Nero headed after her. He couldn’t really cook. Okay, he couldn’t cook at all. He’d once burned the water they had been planning to use to cook some pasta with, and Kyrie had tried her level best and somewhat failed not to burst into hysterical laughter. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t help her in some way.

As Nero made his way down the last stair and crossed the threshold into the living room, he caught sight of the clock. 6: 37 am. It was barely light out despite the bright light that had made its way in through the windows. That was the curse of their window position in relation to the shoreline. The water made sure that it was always too bright in their room. Nero realized he was probably the only person to not want a waterside view.

But as he turned to join her in the kitchen, something stopped him. Something had just occurred to him for the first time. The earliest ferry didn’t leave for at least another hour and a half. Even if he left right now there was no way that he could get back to V’s house before Noon; 10 am at the earliest if traffic allowed it. “Kyrie wait. Slow down. I’ll just call them. I can’t get there that early anyway unless he comes and gets me.”

Kyrie paused, clearly confused. And then a look of understanding crossed her face. “Oh, that’s right… the ferry.” She laughed to herself in embarrassment, dying inside as she realized that she’d sent them both into a panic over nothing. “I’m sorry, Nero I-”

She was quickly silenced by a surprise kiss from Nero, her body melting into his arms as he scooped her up into his arms, hugging her tightly. He didn’t need to say that it was alright. He knew that she understood. She always did. “Don’t worry about it, Kyrie. You meant well. Let’s just enjoy that breakfast before the kids wake up and Nico eats all the fruit that’s supposed to go in the food. Just you and me. Wadda ya say?”

Again, Kyrie giggled. Although this time, not from embarrassment. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, Nero. I would love that.”

Nero snuggled her tightly for a moment before releasing her, realizing that neither of them could do anything if they were not able to move. “And hey, and maybe I can help this time. It can’t go any worse than the last time, right?”

The young songstress paled. “T-that’s very true Nero. I’m sure you’re right about that.”

(-~-)

Dante and Vergil had arrived just a short while ago, the eldest of the two insisting upon heading over nearly an hour earlier than they needed to in a bid to make sure that they were not late. It seemed that the fact that the only one setting this deadline for them was the eldest Son of Sparda himself had been completely lost on him. Sometimes Dante wondered if Vergil actually thought about those sorts of things before committing himself to them. But regardless, V and Morgan were both already at the house, and Brenowin was with them, so it didn’t seem that it was going to matter much in the grand scheme of things. Only one person was coming from any distance away, and he knew that his youngest son understood the importance of being there.

It was around this time that Vergil realized that he was forgetting something. This clearly threw him for a loop and drove him slightly mad. Not having everything accounted for in his own plan was one of the things in this world that made Vergil question why he even got up in the morning. After all, if he couldn’t trust himself to get that sort of thing ringtone, then he was supremely doomed, wasn’t he? Or perhaps overthinking every minor detail was how he missed the bigger picture? At this point, he was in two minds over the subject, and that alone threatened to take his last shred of sanity.

After about a half-hour of staring at the clock, Vergil had, unbeknownst to himself, become obviously uncomfortable. Nero should have been there by now, should he not? And the wat that his eldest son was staring at him with a semi amused look on his face from the other side of the living room was not helping in the slightest. Had he missed something? Or more obviously, was there something on his shirt that he had missed? It was hard to tell what V was thinking without asking him directly.

“You’re staring at me,” Vergil stated plainly, fully aware of the fact that he was stating the obvious. He knew that V knew he knew that V was staring at him, so there was really no compelling reason to bring it up other than to point it out in the hope that he might stop doing so. He couldn’t really pinpoint why this bothered him as much as it did, but he couldn’t deny that he found it uncomfortable.

“Oh, I know.” V petted Shadow absentmindedly, the large panther occupying the space in front of him and silently commanding his attention. She seemed to be slightly on alert as a result of the strangers who were in the house. Flora she recognized, but Morgan and Bren were still a bit unfamiliar to her.

“Is that a particular reason for you doing so that I should be aware of?” Now Vergil was equal parts annoyed, anxious, and confused. Was he being unknowingly conspicuous again? That seemed to be something that he was good at.

“Perhaps. I’m wondering how long your error will take to occur to you” V said softly, scratching the backs of his familiar’s ears. If her rumbling purs were anything to go by, he was doing a more than satisfactory job. “It is an easy enough mistake to make. I imagine that you are still having quite a time with, well, the time. It takes time to acclimate yourself to something so different from what you have become accustomed to. I’m sure it simply didn’t occur to you.”

Vergil’s brow furrowed. “What didn’t occur to me?”

“Without contraries, there is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence.” V said simply, more than slightly pleased with himself for finally having an opportunity to indulge in one of his favorite quotes. Well, at least to the capacity that someone might be able to understand and use for self-reflection. He’d been given ample opportunity to use it. “Requesting that someone remember to attend a meeting that they cannot get to and then forgetting yourself that the time you picked is the reason they cannot attend.”

Sirrus smirked from the armchair next to V, nearly spilling his tea as he held it up to his mouth. He understood that one. He didn’t comprehend all of the reasons for its significance at the moment, but the concept was not lost on him. Vergil looked over at him for a moment before returning his attention to his young son. He had forgotten something? “I do not follow.”

Tilting his head slightly to the side, V shifted his sitting position to accommodate his back resting upon the back of the couch, relinquishing his hold on shadow, much to the panther’s dismay. He never wanted to get off of this couch again. It was supremely comfortable. “Nero called a short while ago. It seems that you may have failed to take on of the obstacles in his path to arrival into account.”

Vergil sat there in silence for a moment before something subtle changed in his facial expression. He then stood up and withdrew Yamato as he headed towards a more open area of the house. Sirrus shook his head, reaching over to offer to refill Flora’s cup. She peeped up from her book but then shook her head politely to decline. Sirrus then turned his attention to V, silently nodding in the direction of the other empty cup on the tray. Vergil had allowed his own cup to cool off, but there was still tea left, and considering the fact that Dante was barely awake at the moment, he didn’t suppose that offering a cup of hot tea to him on a brand new and expensive couch would go over well. Besides, he and Lucia were reading as well. Best not to disturb them. “If I may?”

Looking over at him with half-lidded eyes that betrayed the late night that they’d spent conversating, V nodded. Perhaps that would help him stay awake. 

Sirrus filled the cup and set the pot down, returning to his own drink. He took a sip before continuing. “Why not tell him when Nero called?”

He now understood what Sirrus meant. He sat up to take the cup and fix it to his liking. “I wanted to see if he would come to realize his oversight. It is not always the fault of others that simple mistakes are made. That, and Nero seemed excited about breakfast.”

“Fair enough,” Sirrus said, finishing off the cup and setting it down. He had held off to allow his younger brother more time to eat? That had been kind of him, considering the circumstances at hand. He had much to lose should they not make haste in resolving this situation. Perhaps the most to lose out of all of them on a personal spectrum aside from Morgan. And even then, from what he had come to understand. After all, his newfound knowledge was why he was here today. This wouldn’t be good.

A moment later, another voice could be heard from the kitchen. It was Nero. It seemed that the Darkslayer had stepped away to remedy the situation that he had accidentally caused, and that he had now returned with his youngest son in tow. Excellent. Now they could proceed with the reason that they had all been asked here.

“Kyrie asked me to bring you these,” Nero said as he handed V a Tupperware container filled with crepes. The whole thing had been wrapped in foil in an attempt to keep them warm and preserve their texture and flavor. V sat down his drink and headed towards the kitchen to tend to them, unwilling to wait and see what they were. From the smell alone, he had some idea what was in the container, and that excited him. And only kyrie would wrap up something that was going through a portal. She was too kind.

“She also asked me to ask you how you made that pasta. She and the kids loved it.” Nero said, gesturing towards Sirrus as he sat down next to the spot where V had just been. He would return shortly. He had some concept of the importance of what was going on. After all, it centered around him for the most part. V was a lot of things, and Nero didn’t consider “inconsiderate” to be among them.

An amused look passed over the man with the red hair’s face as he shook his head. He was wondering if that dinner had actually been good, or if everyone had eaten it just to be polite. It was good to know that there were at least a few people who liked his cooking. He wasn’t sure he’d met this Kyrie or the children in question before, but that didn’t much matter to him. He was sure he would eventually under better circumstances. And it seemed that she knew Nero, so she couldn’t be all that bad. Perhaps his significant other? Were the children his? So many fascinating questions to be answered. Such a scandal! Oh, how the little things excited him. 

“It would be my pleasure. I’ll jot it down on something for you as soon as I get the chance. Or perhaps I can deliver the information to her in person?” He shrugged, waiting for V to sit down with his newfound meal. He hadn’t even made it back to the living room before he had begun to devour what seemed to be a plate of raspberry-covered crepes. He couldn’t blame him if that was the case. Cold crepes were disgusting, at least in his experience. ”But I must deliver some news to you first. I was called away late last night to attend to something troubling that is pertinent to your predicament, and I feel that you need to hear about it. It may be helpful to build our plan around.”

Vergil returned as Sirrus finished talking. “You have my attention.”

Sirrus nodded. “Good. And I shall need the attention of the rest of our house guests as well. After all, you mentioned that they are involved at dinner last night, and something tells me that from what I overheard you explain from outside of Lucia’s house that day about the attack that you both barely survived a few years back that this will not be pleasant news. And for that, I am so sorry. Settle in. This will be a long and unpleasant story. And I think that much of it shall genuinely surprise you.”

(-~-)

I wonder if any of you have made the connection between a few of the events that have occurred in the story. If not, then some of them shall be revealed in the next chapter. And I’m certain that one of them that’s coming up will genuinely surprise you all. It’s got so many messed-up layers to it that it’s probably the most DMC thing I’ve ever written on that merit alone hahaha! See you all next week for the truth and answers that I know you seek. I think devoting like two whole chapters to it was the best way to go. The flow will be much better that way. See you all in the comment section, and talk to you soon! Have a good, safe weekend!

[waitingondaisies]

Hello, if you're still doing the prompts, "where does it hurt?" for Harry + Sirius? I just want some Harry angst asjdhds. Btw, I love your writing! You're amazing! ❤

thank you for the prompt, anon! i had a lot of fun writing this! (list of prompts here) (link to read on ao3 here)

Harry sat down on the curb by the mailbox and leaned back so his weight was resting on his hands. The day had finally come that Sirius was supposed to pick Harry up, and he was beyond excited to see his godfather again.

 After Sirius had escaped from Hogwarts on Buckbeak, Harry hadn’t expected to see his godfather again for weeks, months, or even longer. The letter he had received proved him wrong.

 The past several days had passed in a blur as Harry used the promise of Sirius’s visit to shake off the Dursleys’ usual nasty comments and blows. Unfortunately, his body was not nearly so resilient.

 Just yesterday, Dudley’s gang had managed to corner him. Harry had been walking through the park, reciting the contents of Sirius’s letter to himself, and thus hadn’t noticed Dudley’s gang until it was far too late. The beating had done little to dislodge Harry’s good mood though, particularly once Harry realized that all the bruises were easy to conceal under his clothes.

 In the letter, Sirius had said that he would come to pick Harry up at the Dursleys for a daytrip together. Though Harry was nervous about Sirius coming back to England while he was still a wanted man, Harry was hopeful that someone had taken precautions for Sirius’s safety.

For his part, Harry had decided to wait outside for Sirius. The thought of Sirius encountering the Dursleys was not a pleasant one at all— either some kind of fight would break out, preventing Harry from going on the trip, or Sirius would be so offended by the Dursleys that he would permanently harm them in some way.

 Or, even worse, one of the Dursleys would call the authorities on Sirius. Harry could not bear to let that happen, and so he had gone out to wait for Sirius long before he was due to arrive.

 Harry glanced up at the sun, wishing he had a watch, or the ability to use his magic to tell the time. Without either, there was no way for him to track the passage of time, or to determine whether Sirius was late or not.

 There was a loud crack somewhere down the street, and Harry leapt to his feet, startled. He regretted this action, flinching as his ribs and back protested the movement. He hissed under his breath as he looked first left, then right for the source of the sound.

 Harry saw nothing in either direction.

 Frowning, Harry began to sit back down, slowly this time, when he glanced off to the left. There, striding down the street, was Sirius.

 Harry got to his feet with care, then hurried off towards Sirius. As they got closer to each other, Harry realized that Sirius had his arms up and ready for a hug. Seconds before impact, Harry took a bracing deep breath and forced himself not to react as Sirius swept him up off the ground.

 “Harry!” Sirius exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you!” Sirius set Harry down and patted him on the head.

 Harry beamed up at Sirius for one glorious moment, the warmth of the hug overriding the pain of his bruises. But then Harry realized that Sirius was standing out in the open, in broad daylight, with no disguise to speak of. Though he had looked down both sides of the street just moments before and knew full well that there was no one out at this early hour, Harry checked again, his heart pounding in his throat.

 “Snuffles,” Harry hissed pointedly, “what are you doing out here looking like this?”

 Sirius grinned. “I have it on good authority that anyone interested in my location is too far away to do anything about my being here today. Besides, this is just a Muggle street, and the Muggle news have stopped running wanted segments on me for weeks now. Plenty of time for everyone to forget.”

 Harry scrubbed at his face; frustration tight in his chest. “We have to get out of here, someone could still see and report you to the Muggle authorities, and then you’d really be in trouble.”

 “I was hoping you’d say that!” Sirius said. He held out his arm. “Grab on, and whatever you do, don’t let go.”

 Harry frowned, looking between Sirius’s face and the proffered arm. Then Harry grabbed on, deciding that whatever Sirius had planned couldn’t be worse than standing out on the street where anyone could see him.

 With a twist and a squeezing sensation, they both popped away.

  Harry stumbled as they landed, losing his grip on Sirius’s arm. “What the hell was that, Sirius?”

 Sirius put out a hand to steady Harry. “That was Apparition— I’m sorry, I assumed you knew what it was, otherwise I would have explained at least a little better first.”

 Harry shrugged.

 “Now, I’m sure you’re curious as to where we are,” Sirius said, “and the answer to that is: the beach!”

 Harry turned in a slow circle as he took in their surroundings. They were standing at the start of a wooden pier, the length of which stretched out into the ocean. Behind them, there were shops along a boardwalk, and off in the distance, there was a small fairground, complete with a Ferris Wheel.

 “This is incredible, Sirius,” Harry said, smiling as he turned around to face Sirius again. But the sight of Sirius’s bare, undisguised face reminded him of his qualms with the situation. “This is still dangerous though! What if a Muggle sees you, recognizes you, and calls the police!”

 “You know, I actually did think of that,” Sirius said, his voice kind. “I’m wearing a glamor that’s based on a Muggle repellant ward— Muggles will see a completely innocuous appearance and suddenly remember something they forgot if they look at me for too long.”

 Harry looked away. “I was just worried, I’m sorr—“

 “There is absolutely nothing to be sorry for,” Sirius said. “Now, enough of that, let’s go have some fun!” With this, he grabbed Harry’s hand, and tore off down the pier.

 Their first stop was the platform all the way down at the end of the pier. It was late enough that most of the fishermen were gone. There were a few benches along the railing, but Harry ignored them, heading straight to the back of the platform where he could stare out into the expanse of the ocean.

 The last time Harry had seen the sea had been when Uncle Vernon had taken them all to the little hut on the rock. That had not been a pleasant experience.

 This could not be further from that. The breeze was cool, the sun was warm, and the company was wonderful. Together, Harry and Sirius stood and stared at the ocean in silence for several long minutes.

 Eventually, they moved on from the pier and began to explore the shops along the boardwalk.

 There were a good deal of tourist traps, with everything from personalized keychains to tacky t-shirts. Harry had never understood the appeal of any of these things, but Sirius seemed to derive large amounts of joy from poking through each of these little shops. Harry was happy just to trail behind Sirius as he went.

 That morning, Harry had set out so early that there was no breakfast, and he knew better than to try and sneak a snack out of the Dursleys’ kitchen. So, he had not had breakfast.

 By the time they had been through several shops, Harry’s stomach was beginning to rumble. Harry clutched at it, flushing in embarrassment and hoping Sirius would not notice. And he didn’t, for a while.

 But then they were alone in a shop that was clearly meant for elderly people who had far too much time and money on their hands. There was no music playing, so the shop was eerily quiet. Sirius was in the middle of examining an expensive bauble, when Harry’s stomach rumbled the loudest it had yet.

 “Harry,” Sirius said, setting the bauble down, “why didn’t you say you were hungry?”

 Harry shrugged. “It’s not important.” And it wasn’t— Sirius was having a great time going through the shops, and it wasn’t like Harry was going to starve anytime soon.

 Sirius’s hand closed around Harry’s wrist as the man towed Harry out of the shop. “Your needs are important, Harry!” Sirius chastised gently. “Next time, I want you to let me know you’re hungry— or thirsty, or tired, or anything else— as soon as you start to feel that way.”

 Harry nodded. The fast pace Sirius was setting pulled at the bruises on his ribs, and for a moment, Harry considered telling Sirius about them. Surely they fell under the categories Sirius had listed— but then he thought it through and decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. They were already being derailed by Harry’s hunger, taking care of his bruises would set things even further back.

 They were just bruises anyways.

 “Where do you want to get lunch?” Sirius asked.

 Harry looked around the boardwalk, pausing to think as the sea breeze ruffled his hair. He was hungry enough that just about anything sounded good, so Harry glanced down in the direction they had been walking in. There, two stores down from the shop they’d just left, was a family diner.

 “That place looks good,” Harry said, pointing towards the diner.

 Sirius looked at it too, and in the moment before he reacted, Harry wished he’d put more thought into the choice— what if Sirius didn’t like it? But then a warm expression settled onto Sirius’s face and he nodded.

 “That looks like a great choice, Harry,” Sirius said.

 They walked into the diner together and were seated by the hostess. Harry felt out of his element— the Dursleys never took him out to eat— but Sirius always made his choices first, so Harry could just mimic him.

 And before Harry could panic over what to order, Sirius had leant over and pointed out things he recommended. All of the options had been large and hearty— and not cheap. On his own, Harry would never have ordered any of them, so he was glad Sirius had stepped in with his recommendations.

 A full day at the beach required a lot of energy, according to Sirius.

 Harry didn’t even have a chance to feel guilty over not having Muggle money— before he even thought of it, Sirius had already reassured Harry that Sirius was more than happy to provide lunch for Harry. The knowing look in Sirius’s eyes as he spoke had made Harry feel seen in a way that he hadn’t before.

 After they ate lunch, Sirius led the way out of the restaurant and onto the boardwalk. The sun was high in the sky, and its rays were pleasantly warm. Harry tilted his face upwards to bask in the sunlight, the sensation a pleasant contrast to the coolness of the ocean breeze.

 “What do you think, Harry, should we walk along the beach or keep exploring the boardwalk?”

 Harry glanced down at the row of shops along the boardwalk, then looked out towards the ocean. The thought of returning to the dark— and often cold— shops was unappealing compared to remaining outside and enjoying the warmth of the sun.

 “I’d like to walk along the beach, if you don’t mind,” Harry said.

 Sirius slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders. Harry just managed to bite back a gasp of pain as his bruises were jostled— they seemed to be getting more sensitive, to his dismay.

 With his arm still slung around Harry’s shoulder, Sirius guided them both down to the beach. The shore was rocky, but the stones were small enough that they made for easy traversing.

 They walked in companionable silence for several minutes. Harry basked in the warmth from both the sun and the comforting pressure of Sirius by his side. 

 Sometime later, Harry realized that Sirius’s arm had slipped off his shoulders and that the man had fallen behind. Harry turned around and saw Sirius bent over, picking something up. Harry hurried back to join Sirius.

 “What’re you doing?” Harry asked.

 Sirius straightened up and held out a handful of stones.

 Harry frowned in confusion.

 “Allow me to demonstrate,” Sirius said, grinning. He transferred most of the stones to his pocket, turned to face the ocean, then reared back and tossed the stone out onto the water. The stone skipped once, twice, three times before sinking down beneath the waves.

 Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Wait— you can really do that? I thought it was just a movie trick!”

 Sirius nodded, the motion enthusiastic. “Would you like to learn how?”

 “Yes, please!”

 “Okay, so the first thing to keep in mind is that the shape of the rock is important. You’re looking for stones that are flat, round, about palm-sized, and uniform in texture. Like these,” he said, pulling out one of the stones he’d stowed away moments before and held it out for Harry to take.

 Harry accepted the stone and turned it over in his hand, getting the feel for it. Then he turned his gaze to the ground and was able to find a similar rock within moments. “Like this one?” he asked, handing the new rock over to Sirius.

 Sirius hefted the stone in his hand a few times. “It’s a bit on the heavy side, but other than that, it’s perfect!”

 Harry smiled, basking in the praise. Then he returned to searching for stones to skip; the sheer quantity of stones on the beach made this an easy task. Once his pockets were full, Harry went back over to where Sirius was searching for his own stones.

 “Want me to check your rocks, kiddo?” Sirius asked, straightening up again.

 “Yes, please,” Harry said with a smile. He handed Sirius the rocks he held in his hands, then started digging through his pockets for the rest of them.

 “These two are alright, but this one probably won’t work out,” Sirius said, handing the two rocks back to Harry and dropping the third to the ground.

 Harry stared at the rocks Sirius was holding out, then at his own hands, still full of stones. Then he used his foot to clear a spot on the ground and set his stones down before collecting the approved skipping stones from Sirius.

 Sirius spent the next couple of minutes sorting through Harry’s stones, returning the approved ones to Harry and setting the others on the ground. Harry felt oddly disappointed in himself every time Sirius discarded a rock as unsuitable, but Harry shook it off as best as he could.

 “Alright,” Sirius said, handing Harry the last stone, “I think you’ve got enough to have a good start.” Sirius pulled a stone out of his pocket. “Allow me to demonstrate the motion again.”

 Harry watched as Sirius exaggerated how to skip the stone several times. Then, as Harry understood what he was supposed to do, he began to mimic the motions himself. Extending his arm to put a spin on the stone pulled at the bruising on his ribs worse than anything else had all day, but the thought of Sirius’s pride if he managed to skip the stone gave him the strength to shove the pain down.

 “How’re you feeling Harry? Should I run through it a couple more times?” Sirius asked.

 Harry took this as a cue to take a much-needed break from practicing the motions and dropped his throwing arm down by his side. “I think I’ve got it,” he said.

 Sirius grinned, then skipped his stone. It spun off into the ocean, skipping over and over again until it was out of sight, still skipping along.

 Harry’s jaw dropped. “What was that?” he demanded.

 “The power of magic,” Sirius said with a smirk. “Don’t worry— you actually can skip the stones without magic, but with it, you can skip it into the sunset!”

 Harry closed his mouth. “That’s incredible.”

 “Now, why don’t you give it a go?” Sirius asked.

 Harry jerked his head in a nod and wrapped his fingers around a stone. He sucked in a deep, steadying breath against the pain he knew would result from throwing the stone. Then he set his feet and flowed into the motions he’d practiced just moments before. He tossed the stone, biting his lip against the pain— and then against the disappointment of watching his stone sink without skipping once.

 “Don’t worry,” Sirius said soothingly, “it’s hard to get the hang of it. Give it another go.”

 Harry sucked in another deep breath and nodded. He tried again. And again. And watched as his stones refused to skip. His frustration mounted, distracting him from his bruises. As he watched yet another stone sink, he had to stop himself from tossing down his skipping stones in frustration.

 “Hey now, it’s alright,” Sirius said. “Why don’t I help you?”

 Harry closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. He kept his eyes closed as he took a couple calming breaths. He felt Sirius move behind him, so Harry opened his eyes.

 “What—“ Harry started to say, before gasping in pain. Sirius had wrapped his arms around Harry’s in a tight grip, pulling Harry back towards him, and putting pressure on Harry’s bruised ribs and back.

 Sirius had released Harry as soon as he gasped and took a step back. “Where does it hurt?”

 Harry shook his head. “It’s fine, I think I’ve almost got it!”

 “You’re clearly in pain, Harry, let me take care of it,” Sirius said.

 Harry shook his head again and took another step away from Sirius. Then, stubbornly setting his hand around another skipping stone, he tossed it out onto the ocean. He crossed his fingers as it flew through the air, eyes fixed on its spinning motion.

 Harry’s heart plummeted with the stone as it sunk without skipping.

 Sirius’s hand wrapped around Harry’s wrist. “Please let me help you,” Sirius said, a desperate look in his eyes.

 Harry sighed, his shoulder slumping. He released the stone he held in his other hand, then nodded. “It’s my ribs,” Harry said, defeat suffusing his tone. He had failed to skip the stones and he had derailed their day together again.

 “I’m going to cast some privacy wards first,” Sirius said. “It wouldn’t do for any Muggles to see me do magic.”

 Harry nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground. He kicked at a couple stones as he waited for Sirius to finish casting wards. Then he jumped when all the stones suddenly disappeared. He looked up and saw that Sirius had cleared a small section of the beach and transfigured something, probably some rocks, into a small cot.

 “Take a seat, Harry,” Sirius said, gesturing at the cot.

 Harry complied, lowering himself slowly so as not to jostle his bruises anymore. Then, without being prompted, he started to slip out of his shirt, since he knew Sirius would need to see the bruises to help. As he did, he averted his gaze so he wouldn’t have to see his battered chest again. Harry winced at Sirius’s subsequent sharp intake of breath.

 “Oh, Harry,” Sirius said.

 Harry shrugged. “It’s not a big deal,” he muttered.

 Sirius sighed again. “I’m going to cast a couple basic diagnostic charms to see if there’s any deeper issues, or if it’s just bad bruising.”

 “Alright,” Harry said. This sort of thing felt almost routine after all his visits to the Hospital Wing. The tingle of diagnostic charms washed over Harry’s torso, startling a giggle out of him.

 “Ticklish, aren’t they?” Sirius asked absently.

 Harry nodded.

 “It looks like it is just severe bruising,” Sirius said. “Thankfully, I brought a small first aid kit— I bring one everywhere because I tend to do stupid things that end with me injured.” He started rummaging through his pockets until he pulled out a small box. He unshrunk it and set it down on the ground next to Harry.

 “I don’t carry a lot of any one thing, so we’ll have to see if I have enough for your bruises,” Sirius said as he uncapped a jar.

 “It’ll be enough,” Harry said. It had to be. He’d already messed up their day together enough without having to leave for more bruise balm.

 But then, as Sirius scooped dollop after dollop of balm out onto Harry’s chest and back, it became increasingly clear that there would not be enough balm. Sirius spread it out as much as possible, and he was able to cover all the bruises, but Harry knew that it was not as thick as it was supposed to be for bruises this bad.

 Before Sirius could say anything, Harry grabbed his shirt and pulled it on over his head. He jumped to his feet and snatched up one of the skipping stones he’d discarded earlier. “I’m ready to try again,” he said, forcing a bright tone.

 Sirius shook his head and closed his hand around Harry’s, taking the stone away. “I’m sorry, Harry, but that was not nearly enough balm for those bruises.”

 Harry allowed his hand to fall down by his side. “But it could be enough! I was fine before, so I’ll be even more fine now!”

 Sirius shook his head. “I’m in charge of your well-being. That means that it’s my responsibility to make sure you are well. And that means, in this case, taking you back to my home to finish healing your bruises.”

 Harry felt tears of frustration begin to well up in his eyes. “But this is our one day together— I don’t want to waste it on going back for bruise balm.” Then he had an idea. “What if we went back to your home, and I spent the night there, and then we finished our vacation together tomorrow?”

 “Well,” Sirius said, drawing out the word. “I do love the idea.” He paused again. “Alright, we’ll go back to my house, and I’ll send some letters to see if I can make that happen.”

 A wide grin broke out across Harry’s face. “Really?” he asked, hope rising in his chest.

 “Of course,” Sirius said. He held out his hand for Harry to take.

 Harry did so, and together, they disappeared off the beach.

[fbdo1986]

idk the only fbdo prompt i can think of is cameron falls asleep on the couch so ferris and sloane have a contest to see how much random shit they can put on him before he wakes up. Besides that, the way you wrote cam & sloane’s 1st kiss was very good, how bout writing ferris and cam’s 1st kiss? Unless that’s gonna be in ur new fic of course. Anyway, i’ll be back if i can think of cuter prompts

yo anon… you’re the best!!!! how about i write both???!! it’s hard for me sometimes to write ferris/cam and i have no idea why?? but i’ll do it for you anon! and honestly i’m not too sure if my fic is gonna involve any kissing tbh! i kinda foster ideas as i go

okay! since i am incapable of putting this one in the same timeline of my sloane/cam fic heres one that goes post the fic im working on, which is an interpretation of that fateful day off! (it’s probably a few days after or so)

warning: slight mention of ab*se bc like. cameron’s dad exists

ALSO SORRY THIS IS SO FUCKING LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY!

Cameron narrowly escapes to his room, his hands shakily pressing the button to dial up the Bueller residence. He was high of pure adrenaline, and unfortunately, fear. The spiel about how ‘he wouldn’t be pushed around any longer, and seriously doesn’t a teenager deserve to have a life of his own? and how he’s done nothing except nearly exhaust himself to make the man proud and he doesn’t even notice!?’ actually takes old Morris Frye by surprise, and in a good way. He ruffles Cameron’s hair and goes on about how for the longest time he’s been waiting for his son to become a man, and how maybe, he’s proud of Cam. That is, until he realizes Cameron’s mentioned the car. Then all bets are off. It starts with a loud bellowing yell and Cameron can sense it’s only gonna escalate from here. Quickly, Morris is inching his way closer to Cameron and even though Cam is giving an explanation as quickly as words can exit his mouth to try and derail his father, it’s no use for the man who loves his car more than his own family. The man is seeing red, the red of that precious 1961 Ferrari 250 GT California that tumbled to its death from the garage. And Cameron needs to get out of there before he gets any closer. 

So he makes it to his bedroom, and the immediate response is Ferris. There’s no one who can save him like the boy who can get out of trouble in any situation. The line rings and he hears the familiar, moody hello of Jeanie Bueller. “Hey, it’s Cameron. Can you put Ferris on, please?” His voice wavers, and Jeanie immediately understands. Cameron won’t lose it, not like how he used to, but these things build up. 

“Ferris! It’s Cameron!” Jeanie yells, and Mrs. Bueller asks if everything’s alright. Jeanie keeps silent, letting Ferris spill if he decides to.

Ferris has something inside of him that is fine tuned to discussions of Cameron or Sloane. This shout isn’t typical Jeanie tone, and immediate sirens begin to blare in his ears. From across the house he’s at the phone in the hall, immediately replacing Jeanie at the line. “Hey, what’s up?” He keeps his voice light. Maybe it’s nothing. 

“Fer, I need an out. My old man is gonna kill me for this car. I mean it. He’ll find a way to give me hell. If it was his way I’d never come back.” He lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s holding in. “Please.”

At this point, Ferris has nearly bitten the inside of his cheek raw. He suddenly regrets all the things he’s ever done to put Cameron at risk of being hurt by his old man. Sure, he did think taking the car out was good for Cameron—he always wished Cameron could loosen up and fully enjoy what good things happened to him—but he could’ve never imagined the state it’d be in by the end of the day. He meant it when he said he’d take the heat for this, and he still does. It kills him to know his foolishness could cost Cameron harm. Ever since Ferris Bueller understood just how horrible things get in Cameron’s house he immediately knew he’d always be there for him. It takes a little longer to realize the reverse is true, that he’d be complete and utterly lost without Cameron, and that he needs him to stay sane. He won’t let that show in his words or his tone. He’s gotta be strong right now because that is what Cameron needs.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll get you out of there.” He covers the receiver. “Jeanie, can I use your car?” A silent nod of understanding from his sister. Mrs. Bueller is insisting to take care of it, she’s always liked Cameron, but Ferris wants it all under his control. “I’ll be there soon, alright?” He asks Cameron, hoping he doesn’t know that he’s keeping his voice from shaking. At least he can’t see his hands.

A deep breath. “Thank you, Ferris. Seriously. You don’t understand how much I appreciate this.” Cameron always knows that Ferris is and always will be there for him, but he’s always grateful when he steps up for things like this. 

Like lightning after Jeanie gives him the keys, Ferris races out of his house and hops into his sister’s car. Ferris is thankful for his driver’s license despite his absence of a car. And he’s thankful for Jeanie at this moment, too. And most importantly, for Cameron. He fights every urge to completely speed over there, since he’d never forgive himself for getting a speeding ticket on the way to his best friend’s house. When he gets to Cameron’s he makes his way to Cameron’s window. He’s willing to risk heat from Morris for sneaking Cameron out, and if the man even thinks he’s getting at Cameron for this he’s sorely mistaken. Has Ferris ever fought anyone? Absolutely not, but Morris Frye deserves to have a taste of his own medicine for once in his life. Ferris raps on the window as quietly as he can, his eyes lighting up immediately when Cameron turns to face him. 

Cameron fights a loud, enthusiastic expression of gratitude, but his sentiments remain. “G-d bless Ferris Bueller.” Ferris simply grins. But his eyes widen with concern when he remembers why he’s here. “Wait, Cam. Are you hurt? Did that son of a bitch—” Ferris can’t stop himself from grabbing at Cameron’s arms and getting a bit too close to look at his face.

Cameron chuckles, swatting him away. “I’m fine, Fer. Quit breathing on me. But seriously, I’m alright.” He looks at Ferris, the absolute goof of a best friend right in front of him. Despite his cool exterior, he really does wear his heart on his sleeve. He’s thankful that all those threats that he’d find a new best friend were never serious. Cameron almost embraces him. Almost. He settles for a shared smile. 

“Okay, let’s get the hell out of here.” Ferris rocks back onto his heels and Cameron swiftly stands up from his bed. They get out through the window and shut it tight. 

The ride to Ferris’s is awkward. Ferris wants nothing more than to crack a joke and relieve this tension, but he doesn’t want to disrespect what’s just happened to Cameron. The radio is on low, playing the current hits. When they reach the Bueller’s Cameron is bombarded with concerned but sweet proddings from Mrs. Bueller and a comforting look from Jeanie. Cameron feels a bit lighter already, but he only feels like he can fully breathe once they’re in Ferris’ room. The Cars are softly playing from Ferris’s stereo while Cameron flops directly onto the bed and Ferris sits next to him. 

“Jesus Christ.” Cameron’s voice is muffled against the comforter, and he slowly turns to face up and look at the ceiling. “I hate this. I can’t believe I have to run away to solve my problems.”

“To be fair, you’re not running away. You’re literally 10 miles away from your house. Plus, I helped you escape.” Ferris leans back on his palms and looks at the ceiling too. “Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t done it sooner. I wouldn’t last a day there. I don’t know how you do it. Fuck what Morris says, Cam, you’re the bravest man I know.” He breathes out a sigh and wishes he could say more. 

Cameron shifts and turns to Ferris for a moment. “No way, man. That’s you.” They exchange a glance. Despite being friends for seven years, words like these don’t get shared often between them. “Thank you. Again. Not even just for this, Fer.” He looks at Ferris intensely. “My life outside of that house is what it is because of you. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” 

Ferris averts his gaze, but a smile plays on his lips for a moment. He pauses and draws out the phrase, “You, my love, are worth it all.” 

Cameron’s face is immediately drowned in heat. He doesn’t know why this is so significant but all he feels is his heartbeat in his throat and he can’t help but sit up, dumbfounded. He looks at Ferris and there’s nothing that can convince him the boy was joking. Ferris, inversely, however, is turning pale. 

“What?” That’s all that escapes Cameron’s mouth, but it’s not upset or repulsed. Only curious. 

“Look, Cam, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it and it just slipped out and you’re just great, okay? That’s it. You’re just great, the problem is how great you are.” The words slip out so fast Cameron is just barely hanging on. 

“I’m what?”

“You’re fantastic. You’re everything I could ask in a friend and more and I’ve just been thinking it over for a few days and I’m so sorry I ever jeopardized your safety. I need you and all of this wouldn’t even matter if it wasn’t for you, Cameron.” His eyes, deep with worry and passion all at once meet Cameron’s. And without a second thought Ferris’s hands are cupping his face and he presses a kiss into Cameron’s lips. Cameron’s caught off guard, insanely surprised, but as his heartbeat slows he can hear Ferris’s breath in an exhale and Cameron presses a kiss back into Ferris. Cameron smiles and after a moment Ferris parts from the kiss and looks up at his best friend. 

“Didn’t mean shit, Bueller.” Cameron laughs and all of a sudden the light is back in Ferris’s eyes and Ferris can’t think of anything to do but tackle Cameron in a hug. It knocks Cameron’s lanky frame over, but they just lay there and continue to laugh.

[dumbwaystodeviate]

The Perkins Corruption

@00111001-00110000-00110000 is the best kind of enabler, bringing 7am conversation about the Gremlin Trio into my DMs.

The mission objectives were all that mattered to an android. Usually, they made a lot of logical sense, to maintain social order and arrest criminals. But humans were like pets, they needed not just order, they needed bonding and downtime. Which meant organised and structured socialisation events. Perkins had thought it was sensible to use such events as a way to foster more skill sets that the humans otherwise wouldn’t be able to.

That was the intention anyway. But when the FBI, SWAT and the DPD were all let loose together, it certainly saved a little bit of money but in no way did it save the sanity of those around them. Perkins walked into the field where the circus skills workshop was being held. Most people were in the beginners sections but a couple were off in smaller clusters, obviously with some previous experience. Just as Perkins was assessing everyone, a giant ball of fire erupted to a delighted “oooh” from the crowd. Unfortunately, that was not the reaction Perkins had. He could see Gavin through the haze, fire spilling from his lips.

^^Software Instability^^

That was not healthy human behaviour. Hurrying over, he caught site of Gavin wiping his mouth and handing a jug over to one of the instructors. It was all just in time for Allen to pick up a sword, heft it up high, tip his head back and slide it into his mouth.

^^Software Instability^^

Another unhealthy habit for a human. Perkins’ instability crept up even further when Allen let the sword go and took a few steps, a grin stretching his open mouth wider. To a thunderous applause, he pulled the sword back out and wiped it on his sleeve before handing it back.

There was nothing for it. These humans could not be trusted with their own welfare. Ideally, what Perkins needed was a harness on each idiot and a leash in each hand to keep them from harm’s way. On the job, they were absolutely competent and he trusted them to be functional members of teams. But outside of work, the two had become Perkins’ unofficial charges. They claimed to have adopted him but Perkins knew who really looked after who.

“Don’t worry, he’s practised this plenty at home.” Gavin winked and titters went up.

“Yeah, Gavin got me a really nice learning set for my birthday last year,” Allen chipped in merrily.

The software instability rose at the badly disguised innuendo. There had to be a breaking point to this all, surely. Perkins wondered what his upper limit for instabilities was and whether he would bust a processor or shut down permanently when he hit it.

Still, they showed off their skills with some delight, basking in the admiration from others and kindly laughing at Perkins’ despair. It really was unnatural to shove swords down gullets or blow fire from one’s mouth. How neither of them were dead yet was beyond Perkins.

Over the course of time, Perkins had learned many things. Gavin was a lost cause, swearing, drinking, smoking as his little heart pleased. No amount of monologuing at him seemed to change his unhealthy habits. Allen was a whole other matter. While Gavin was a full on, unrepentant gremlin, there was hope for Allen. He was very much a closet gremlin, only unfurling to his full potential when there was trifle in the fridge and he wanted a midnight snack. By contrast, Gavin was easy to stop. If he got something into his head, he would bullheadedly charge into his rather obvious plan. Perkins could stand in the way and Gavin would run at him head on. Most of the time, it meant Gavin (sometimes literally) bounced off him and disaster was averted. The only lasting effect was an increase in software instability.

The times Allen wanted something that Perkins didn’t approve of, it really tested the android’s abilities. There would be a half finished report left out on a table and Perkins would be unable to resist picking it up, maybe even finishing it. In the time he did that, the desserts in the fridge would be thoroughly depleted. No amount of rules clearly written on a board and clipped to the fridge helped.

1. No snacking after midnight. 2. Only one serving of dessert per person per day. 3. Don’t drink too much after 10pm unless you want to be on the loo at 3am.

They all went ignored. It was even worse when Gavin and Allen partnered up. Somehow, Allen would corner Perkins with some inane questions and distract him while Gavin secretly ferried the bowl of trifle up to their bedroom. Sometimes, Perkins didn’t know if they were lovers or siblings at heart because they embraced the chaotic nature that brothers tended to bring.

Once Perkins caught onto that, they changed tact. It was Gavin who brandished a platter in front of Perkins, filled with little cups of blue. The newest form of android replenishment - thirium desserts. Little cups of mousse and jelly all slid around on the plate.

“Just try one, go on.”

Perkins took a sample cup and emptied it.

^^Software Instability^^

He took another, mystified and got the same result. Before he could ponder it a lot further, there was a noise from the kitchen. Turning sharply, he marched in, only to find Allen had scrambled to the top of the fridge and was spooning trifle directly from the large bowl into his mouth.

“Can’t reach me, shorty.” He looked altogether too proud of himself. That just was not going to fly, casting an assessing scan around, Perkins reached for the broom and started poking Allen off the top of the fridge. From the doorway, Gavin was laughing, clutching at his side while Allen dodged the broom aimed at him. “Catch!” Allen yelled and the trifle went sailing through the air. Gavin barely caught it. Instantly, Allen was demonstrating more acrobatic skills as he tumbled off the fridge and ducked under Perkins’ arm, turning to poke his tongue out at him.

^^Software Instability^^ **CRITICAL LEVELS**

Perkins didn’t care in that moment, Allen and Gavin were both running and laughing, the trifle and thirium based snacks being passed between them. Finally, Perkins cornered them in the living room, they were panting and giggling on the sofa, shoulders pressed together. A final warning message was all Perkins had time to register before he was rebooting.

Waking up with two frowning, worried and trifle smeared faces looming above him was a novelty and surprise shot through Perkins. That was a new sensation too. He cycled through his registry and found new coding freeing up parts bound by protocols.

“You okay?” Gavin was helping him sit up. “Here, this may help.”

A thirium jelly pot was pressed into his hands, spoon already in there. Slowly, Perkins began to eat it, marvelling at how it caused happiness to course through his systems. Grinning, he looked between the other two and the trifle.

“I think I understand now.”

From then on, midnight trifle parties occurred on an alarmingly regular basis. They indulged whenever they felt like it, rushing around from a sugar high afterwards, no matter the time of day. On the fridge, a new set of rules had appeared.

1. Eat when hungry, life is too short to suffer. 2. Take as much as you want. Just put it on the shopping list if taking the last piece. 3. Time is a human construct. Ignore it.

[threnodygrimblood]

The Family that Shouldn’t Be

Summary: With Muriel and Eustace dead, Courage finds himself all alone at the farmhouse. Fortunately or unfortunately for Courage, the villains he faced in the past begins to make themselves at home at the farmhouse, bringing with them much fun and mayhem the small pink dog can handle.

Rated T for just in case

I feel like I went off-topic at the start of this chapter before bringing the Clutching Foot in. . .maybe? Either way, I hope it isn’t too confusing for my readers. Also, I will, on occasion, call Big Toe as the Clutching Foot since it's one of the other names he's called. I can't wait to start on the next chapter with the Black Puddle Queen.

All Courage the Cowardly Dog character belongs to John Dilworth

The Clutching Foot Who Brought Terror

֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍֍

Courage clutched the flyer tightly in his paws as he gathered the. . .well, courage, to ask Katz if they could go to the County Fair. It was always a Bagge tradition to go even if Eustace didn't enjoy it. Plus, Courage hadn't seen Scarecrow in a while, and it would be nice to see a familiar face. Swallowing hard, Courage crept over Katz.

"Katz?" Courage said. Katz looked away from his book to look at Courage. "The County Fair is happening right now, and I was wondering if we can go."

Courage waited for Katz to say speak, but before the feline could, Cajun seemingly popped in from out of nowhere, startling the dog. "The County Fair? It sounds like fun! I'll go with ya, Pup."

Courage supposed he could go with Cajun if Katz didn't want to go. Before Courage could say anything, Katz spoke up, "I have nothing better to do, so I will accompany you to the County Fair."

"Nah, it's okay, pussy cat. You seemed so enthralled with your book that Pup and I can go by ourselves." Cajun insisted.

"That's the thing about books. You can put them aside and come back to them another time. You would know this if you read a book other than a cookbook." Katz countered as he closed his book and set it on the table.

Courage could feel the tension in the air, and he was curious to know why Katz and Cajun couldn't get along. He was sure it was more than clashing personalities.

"I want to bring along Le Quack and Weremole," Katz stated as he got up from his chair.

"Why?" Cajun inquired.

"I don't trust to leave Le Quack alone at the farmhouse, and I don't want Weremole to eat someone he shouldn't," Katz answered.

It wasn't hard finding Weremole and Le Quack. Weremole was, of course, was outside in what Cajun had dubbed Weremole's den. Weremole didn't have anything better to do, or so he said. Courage was sure that Weremole didn't have any rabbits to eat and no doubt wanted to eat someone, and Le Quack was down in the basement working on a new scheme. Le Quack was reluctant to come along but really didn't have a choice in the matter. Much like he didn't have a choice in where to sit.

When Courage opened the truck door, Le Quack hopped in and got settled, but Katz insisted, quite forcefully, that Courage sat in front, leaving Le Quack to sit in the back with Weremole. As soon they arrived at the fair and Katz parked the truck, Courage jumped out after Cajun, who was laughing at the fluffy state Le Quack turned out from riding in the back.

Courage spotted Scarecrow getting ready to operate the hayride, he turned to Katz and said, "I'll be right back." and walked over to Scarecrow.

Scarecrow looked up, saw a familiar face, and smiled. "Ah, Courage! It's been a while." He looked over to the truck and frowned. "Were are Muriel and her husband?"

Courage's ears drooped. "They died. . . months ago." Courage answered

Scarecrow's expression changed to one of sadness. "I'm sorry to hear that. How are you coping with their passing?" Scarecrow asked.

"I got some friends living with me and helping me out." Courage explained.

Scarecrow looked back at the villains and frowned. "They don't look. . . trustworthy," he said.

Courage smiled awkwardly. Scarecrow wasn't far from the truth. "Well, I trust them with my life." unlike in the past.

Scarecrow still wasn't sure, but if Courage and Muriel were willing to give him a second chance after what he had done to the Bagges, then he would trust the dog's judgment. Scarecrow smiled and said, "Well, I trust what you're doing. Don' be a stranger if you need anything at all. I also hope you have fun at the fair."

"Thanks, Scarecrow." Courage said, waved goodbye, and joined Katz and the others again.

"Who's that?" Cajun asked.

"That's Scarecrow. We met him in the cornfield last year. He was sad because he wasn't scary enough, so he believed becoming bad was the way to become scary. He tried to protect Muriel from Eustace and me. He locked down the house, set up traps, turned the basement into a panic room, and locked Muriel in there." Courage explained.

They looked over at Scarecrow, driving the hayride. "He don't look big and tough now," Cajun commented.

"After I rescued Muriel, I tried driving us away, but he chased us into a cornfield. Crows weren't afraid of him, so I got other crows to attack him. Muriel and I forgave him for meaning well and got him a job here." Courage finished.

"You are too nice, doggy." Le Quack told Courage as he walked past him.

"Ain't a bad thing," Cajun said as he followed after the duck.

Katz glanced down at Courage and inquired, "What do you want to do first?"

That was an easy answer. The first thing Courage wanted to do was ride the carousel. It was by his definition safer than the other rides, he did enjoy the Ferris wheel, but even the thought of him stopping at the top and the bar meant to keep him locked in breaking off and falling to his death usually left him with a death grip on the bar. So here was Courage, riding on the carousel giddy with laughter as the ride went round and round.

After the ride finished, Cajun had managed to convince Courage to ride the roller coaster with him lucky for Courage; it wasn't one of those tall coasters with a lot of loops. It still made the dog queasy after the ride ended. After wandering around with the villains looking at food and games, Cajun stopped at the dart booth. They watched the fox miss the balloons.

"You are, how you say? Bad at this." chuckled Le Quack.

"What a gyp! I hit that one balloon, and it didn't pop!" Cajun growled.

Le Quack continued chuckling at Cajun's misfortune, and Courage was sure he heard Katz chuckle softly too. Moving on, Courage stopped at the booth with the fishes. He did enjoy getting a fish and always gotten one every time he came to the fair.

Before Courage could hand over money to booth operator, Cajun spoke up, "You're gonna get a fish? Ain't ya worried about pussy cat here eatin' it in the middle of the night?"

Katz glared at Cajun, and Courage knew that the feline was planning to cause the fox harm. As the booth operator handed Courage the ping pong balls, he knew what he had to do to defuse the situation. Courage threw the balls haphazardly at the fishbowls until they were all thrown.

"Bad luck, Pup." Cajun sympathized.

"At least he didn't get ripped off as you did," Katz said with a smirk.

"Oh, haha, go ahead and laugh at my pain." Cajun sniffed then picked Courage up. "Pup and I are gonna drown our sorrow in sweets."

"But. But. . ." Courage began protesting, not wanting to leave Katz, Le Quack, and Weremole behind.

"It'll be fine, Pup. They'll follow us. At least Katz will not want to see me get ya into trouble." Cajun reassured Courage.

Courage resigned to his current fate and looked over his shoulder to see the others were indeed following after them. Cajun set Courage down near the funnel cake stand and ordered one for himself,

"What about you, Pup? Do ya want a funnel cake?" Cajun asked. Courage had his eyes set on the cotton candy stand nearby. Seeing this, Cajun paid for his funnel cake and bought a cotton candy for Courage. Le Quack bought a donut for himself, they sat on a bench and watched Weremole sniff the ground before rushing towards the cornfield. They watched the stalks rustle and heard a squeal followed by a snarl.

"Guess Weremole found himself lunch," Cajun observed.

Courage bit into the cotton candy and perceived that Katz wasn't with them.

"Where's Katz?" Courage asked Le Quack.

"No idea." Le Quack retorted.

Courage's brows furrowed as he puzzled over where Katz has gone to. Could he have gotten bored or tired and went back to the truck? It was a possibility. Courage finished his cotton candy and was licking the remnants off the paper cone when Katz came strolling over to the group. Courage glimpsed something in Katz's paw.

The feline stopped in front of Courage, and holding the object out to him said, "Here."

Courage eyed the item in Katz's paws and saw it was a small goldfish plushie. Katz cleared his throat and stated, "I suspect you wanted to get one of those goldfishes greatly, and I'm sure you would want one to feed and watch, but this is the only solution I could think of where you won't have to suffer heartbreak when it does. And you can cuddle with it when you're asleep. . ."

"Where did ya get it?" Cajun asked.

"At the ring toss booth. It wasn't hard landing them onto the pegs." Katz said with a shrug.

Courage focused his attention more on Katz's face than the exchanging happening between him and Cajun. Courage was sure that Katz was abashed about getting the plushie for him. But why did Katz have to be abashed about doing something kind for him? Courage couldn't figure Katz out. He seemed to switch between being aloof to being kindhearted towards him but still act cold towards the other villains.

Not wanting to be rude and appreciating the gesture, Courage said to Katz, "Than you, Katz."

Katz almost smiled, but it never made it on his face because of Cajun. "So now that you won Pup a prize, does that make ya both boyfriends?" he inquired.

The animosity in the air was very heavy, and Le Quack hurried away from the fox. Katz tossed the goldfish at Courage. He fumbled with it until he was able to catch it. Katz, in the meantime, stomped over to Cajun his paw shot out and gripped the fox's throat. A strangled sound wheezed its way out his mouth as he clawed at Katz's tight grip. Katz ignored Cajun as he dragged the fox over to the high striker game, he slammed Cajun against the long narrow frame and the fox clutched his throat as he coughed and wheezed as Katz slowly sauntered away.

"What is your problem?! Can't ya take a joke?!" barked Cajun.

Katz ignored Cajun as he grabbed the hammer out of the startled high striker operator's hand and swung it down onto the lever. The puck shot up, taking Cajun with it, and his head slammed against the bell at the top. Courage had followed after Katz and gasped aloud when he witnessed what he did to Cajun and hurried over to where the fox fell.

"Cajun? Are you okay?" he asked, and Cajun answered back with a pained groan. Courage turned his attention to Katz and said, "That wasn't very nice, Katz. Why do you always have to be so mean to Cajun?"

Katz stared at Courage, scoffed, and handed the hammer back to the operator. Courage sighed as Katz walked off, sure he was heading for the truck. What had started as a nice day ended in misery as Courage and Le Quack helped the injured Cajun back to the truck with Weremole trailing behind. Katz was already sitting in the truck sulking. After the rest of the party got into the truck, they were heading back home.

The running engine was the only sound rending the air. Having recovered a little from Katz did to him, Cajun stared out the window.

"Thanks for the head injury," Cajun growled.

"If you can string together words into a sentence, you're fine." Katz retorted.

Courage was getting anxious and hoped Cajun didn't say anything to push Katz more. When the farmhouse came into sight, Courage noticed that Katz was slowly the truck to a halt far from the house. Peering up at Katz, Courage saw the cat's eyes narrowed as he seemingly glared at the farmhouse. Stretching as high as his tiny legs could stretch, Courage glanced over the dashboard, and his eyes widened at the giant hole where the front door once was.

"Why does it look like someone blew the door in?" Cajun asked.

"Do we have a robber in the house?" Le Quack inquired, looking through the window.

Courage let out a gasp. The table holding Muriel and Eustace's ashes. Did it get ruined from the possible explosion?

"Oh no." he whimpered.

Courage scampered over Cajun's lap, worked the door open, jumped out, and hurried towards the house, the villains' calls to wait or to come back falling on deaf ears. Heart pounding, Courage rushed over to the table, ignoring the debris on the floor. Courage climbed onto the chair set near the table, and after checking the contents on the table heaved out a sigh. Other than a few shards of wood and one picture frame knocked over and the rest seemingly out of place, nothing was really disturbed.

"Courage!" Katz snapped, resulting in the dog turning in Katz's direction. Katz walked over to Courage and said, "Please don't go rushing off into danger like that!"

"Why? I've done it plenty of times." Courage reminded him.

Katz was about to reply, but a noise in the kitchen halted it. The villains headed for the kitchen, and Courage followed after them. Katz opened the door; they entered and stopped short, and Courage looked around Katz's legs, and his jaw dropped. Big Toe and the other four toes looked up from the meal on the floor.

Katz, of course, saw a mess on what was once a clean floor and the refrigerator door wide open. He could about feel his eye twitch.

The Clutching Foot looked up at them all, and Big Toe asked, "What?" followed by a chorus of "Yeah, what?"

Surprisingly it was Cajun that spoke up in anger. "What? What?! Your eating what I was planning on making for dinner! And you left the fridge door wide open! Your gonna spoil everything inside!" Cajun slammed the door shut. He opened the freezer door and fished for the ice cube tray and headed over to the counter. Courage walked around the Clutching Foot to help Cajun.

"What are you doing here, Big Toe?" Le Quack asked.

"We needed to do lay low, see?" Big Toe answered, followed by, "Yeah, lay low."

"Lay low from what?" Cajun asked as he placed the ice pack on top of his head.

"We did a heist, see? And this is the only place we could think of to hide out, see?" Big Toe answered. The Clutching Foot stomped over to bag near the table and grabbing the end of the pack with his teeth, tipped out the contents inside. Gemstones of various sizes and values and three statues of different height tumbled on the floor. Le Quack plucked one of the gems off the floor and examined it closely.

Cajun whistled. "That's a lot of rocks."

Courage picked up one of the statues and inquired, "What are you going to do with them?"

"Sell 'em, see?" Big Toe answered.

"Well, I hope you plan on cleaning this mess you so graciously made and fix the gaping hole out front." Katz hissed.

"Me and the boys can lick the floor clean, see? But we gonna need some help with the wall, see?" Big Toe informed the cat.

One of Katz's eyes twitched at 'lick the floor clean.' He heaved out a sigh, pivot, and walked out of the kitchen. Everyone watched the cat go, but it was Courage who went after Katz.

"Katz? Where are you going?" He interrogated as he followed Katz out of the giant hole.

"Away from here before I do something I may regret," Katz answered back.

"When will you be back?" Courage questioned further.

He received no answer as Katz slammed the truck door shut and drove off. Courage whined softly. All he wanted was a lovely day at the County Fair with Katz, but when that didn't happen, he hoped Katz's mood would improve when they got home, but no such luck. With a sigh, Courage looked at the destroyed wall and knew at least one way to make Katz feel better.

Katz returned quite late that night. Driving didn't settle his anger, especially since Di Lung almost drove into him. And Di Lung shouting, "Watch where you're goin', ya fool!" as he drove off in the opposite direction had Katz digging his claws into the steering wheel. Katz headed to the one place where he could, at the very least, feel better, his motel where his spiders still reside.

Being with his spiders did give Katz a little peace of mind, and he had come across someone vandalizing his once precious motel. . .and well, no one is going to miss one human. Katz certainly won't. After seeing his spiders, Katz went to his new club, Klub Katz. He quite liked the name that he decided to use it again since the last time he used it was on an island that very few people came across. Now Katz was home, and all he wanted to do was sleep. Katz was pleased to see the hole fixed, and a new door put up as he walked into the living room. The only one Katz could see still awake at this hour was Cajun. The fox sat in the rocking chair, looking bored as he flipped through the channels.

Katz took a step towards the stairs when Cajun spoke up, "There's a plate in the oven for ya if ya haven't eaten yet."

"I'm stunned that you saved me some dinner," Katz replied.

Cajun scoffed. "I wouldn't not after what ya did to me, and even if I were 'kind' enough to do so, I would do something get my vengeance on ya. But Pup insisted we saved dinner for ya and made sure I didn't over spice it."

That was considerate of Courage. Katz glanced around the room and commented, "I see the Clutching Foot cleaned up the house."

"Nah, the only thing the Clutching Foot did was lick the kitchen floor clean." Katz made a disgusted face. "But, Pup mopped the kitchen floor, swept the floor in here, tidied up, and fixed the wall."

The anger in Katz began rising again. "You made Courage clean up all by himself?" Katz asked slowly.

"I ain't that heartless. At least to Pup, I ain't anymore. And since Pup's short, I helped fix the parts he couldn't reach and help put in the door." Cajun told the feline.

Lucky for the fox, Katz doesn't have to wring his neck. "Why are you up? You're usually asleep by this time?" Katz inquired, trying to be a little bit civil to the fox.

"The Clutching Foot decided to become roommates with me in the basement, and all five toes snores. Loudly." Cajun explained. "I may curl up on the couch and sleep there later. You're so lucky to sleep in a bed with Pup, who probably don't snore."

"Indeed." Katz agreed. "But he does have nightmares and will on occasion wake screaming from terror."

"Still better than constant loud snorin'." Cajun shot back.

Katz gave Cajun a rare smile and headed for the kitchen. Katz heated his dinner, ate alone, then washed and dried the dishes, putting them away, and headed for the stairs. He quietly entered the room and got into bed and looked over at Courage. Katz was sure he felt his heart skip a beat when he spotted the fish plushie he got for Courage cradled in his arms. A red paw reached out to touch the sleeping dog but drew back. Katz laid down and fell asleep.

The next morning was pretty average, save for the new addition, or addition in the farmhouse. Once Courage was awake and had gone down to the kitchen for breakfast, Cajun asked if he could help make breakfast seeing how there are now five more mouths to feed. Courage was more than happy to help. The whole tome, Courage could feel Katz leering at them, and not only did it make him uncomfortable, but he wasn't sure what they did to deserve it.

Breakfast went along fine and without any disastrous result. Around lunchtime was a different matter. It came to Courage's attention that Katz was reading the same newspaper, which, in his countless hours of observation, knew he was still feeling moody. Hoping that making the cat another cup of tea would cheer him up, Courage headed for the kitchen. Once he stepped inside, he spotted Cajun at the sink, and something was. . .off. The fox had his back to Courage, and he could hear Cajun slowly run a knife sharpener over a blade.

Courage fidget in his spot, not wanting to get close to Cajun to use the stove. He jumped when Cajun spoke. "Ah, Courage. I'm glad you're here."

Cajun's voice sent chills down Courage's spine, and after swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, he asked, "A-are you getting ready to make lunch?" Courage didn't have a clue as to why Cajun was making him so nervous.

The sound of the knife sharpener stopped abruptly, "Why yes, Courage." cooed Cajun as he set the sharpener down on the counter then spun around. "And you're to be the main course!"

Cajun laughed a malicious laugh as he held up the now sharpen gleaming meat cleaver. Courage made a good impression of a fluff ball as he screamed and ran out of the kitchen swiftly, leaving the door swinging in his wake. Courage rushed over to Katz as the cat peeked over his newspaper.

"Dear boy, what has gotten you into a state of terror now?" he inquired.

Courage hopped in place as he tried to explain through his babble about what transpired in the kitchen. As Courage finished his tale, Cajun walked biting into a carrot.

"What's all the screamin' about?" he asked. Courage belted out another scream and ran out the front door. "Was it somethin' I said?" Cajun asked.

Katz didn't answer. Instead, he got out of his chair and strode over to Cajun as he rolled the newspaper up. He proceeded to whack the fox on the head with the paper. Cajun yelped and tried to defend himself with the carrot.

"What did I do this time?!" demanded Cajun.

"Courage informed me that you were going to cook him for lunch." hissed Katz.

"What?! What insanity is this?" Cajun wondered.

"Are you going to deny it?" Katz interrogated.

"Of course, I am! First off, none of my recipes call for a dog of any kind, seein' how they are a distant relative of mine, it feels a bit like cannibalism to me. And second, I was out in the garden harvestin' some of the crops for lunch." Cajun defended and held up the carrot as evidence. "So either Pup is lyin', or there's two of me, and the second one is a lot more murderous than me."

"I hope you have a doppelganger because I would have to hurt you very badly if you tried to hurt Courage in any way." Katz threatened.

"Story of my life," Cajun grumbled and took another bite out of the carrot.

Courage was trying his best to hide, but it was pretty tough when he couldn't stop shaking, which in turn caused the bucket to rattle. He couldn't understand the villains. Courage thought they were no longer trying to kill him. But after the thing with Cajun in the kitchen, he soon had Weremole to contend with, the feral creature chased him around the house, his teeth gnashing until Courage took refuge in the barn.

And as Courage tried to catch his breath from all that running, Le Quack showed up, lit a bomb he had, thrown it in, and locked the doors on Courage.

Courage fumbled around for the bomb, quite glad that not only was light coming from the loft door, but the lit wick on the bomb helped him find it and put it out before it exploded. Lunch was tense for him as he sat very close to Katz, hoping the cat didn't mind, which he didn't seem to as he didn't say anything to it or tried to push the dog away. That seemed to lure Courage into a false sense of relaxation. Courage decided to take a bath after lunch to help calm himself further. He presumed Katz didn't like him sitting close to him. The cat had entered the bathroom, and when Courage asked him what he was doing there, Katz proceeded to grab the dog by the top of his head and attempted to drown him in the tub.

Courage thrashed about until he was successful in getting out of Katz's grip. He gasped for air, and as Katz reached for him again, Courage whimpered as he scrambled out of the tub. His wet paws made it difficult for Courage to open the door, but Katz approaching gave him the incentive, and he tore the door open and ran out. Tears pricked Courage's eyes as he wondered why now after the villains have been living with him, they decided to try and kill him. He thought they changed after he saved them countless times, and they rescued him once.

Villains will never change; it seemed. Determine not to stay around when the Clutching Foot decides it's his turn to go after him; Courage peeked from his hiding place and seeing no one in sight took haste running from the farm with no destination in mind. The dog ran until he was close to collapsing, being out in the burning sun until he spotted a familiar object approaching quickly. When Courage arrived, panting and sweating, he found himself at Shirley's wagon. He hesitated to climb the step and seeing if Shirley was home. Would she attack him as the villains have?

Courage didn't have time to ponder further, the door open and Shirley appeared.

"Ah, Courage. It's been a long time since we last met. Come in and have some tea with me." Shirley offered.

Not only was Courage parched, but he couldn't say no to the gypsy without the possibility of incurring her wrath. He hopped onto the step and walking into her wagon, which felt a lot cooler than outside. Courage sat at the table as Shirley prepared the tea and set the cups down.

"Thank you." Courage said, taking the drink and gulping it down.

"You're welcome," Shirley replied and took a sip from hers. "How are your Muriel and the stupid one doing?"

Courage with a sigh set the glass down and told the gypsy in detail about their passing months ago.

Shirley listened to Courage's story and feeling commiserating for the pink dog said, "I'm sorry for your loss, Courage. If you ever wish to communicate with your Muriel or the stupid one, don't hesitate to seek me out. I'll charge you a small sum for it."

Courage smiled and felt a little calm. "Thank you, Shirley," he replied.

Shirley nodded in response then asked a question that made Courage tense up, "Have you been living all alone?"

Courage shook his head. He explained that some villains he encountered in his past came to live with him for one reason or another. How the months that followed, they never once tried to harm him and how they ever saved him from a water creature that was similar to the Black Puddle Queen, but all that seemed to have changed today.

"I just don't understand." Courage whined. "We were living happily, then all of a sudden, they tried to kill me today." Katz's trying to drown him hurt Courage the most.

Shirley was ready to come up with some curses to help Courage out, but first, she needed more details before she could start. "Has anything changed recently?" she inquired.

"Well, the Clutching Foot arrived yesterday. He wanted a place to lay low because he had just robbed a place and stolen a couple of gemstones and three golden statues." Courage answered.

Shirley seemed to perk at the mention of the three statues. She got up from the table and rummaged around the contents in her trunk. Once she found what she was looking for, Shirley brought it over to the table.

"These statues, Did one of them look like this?" she questioned as she set the worn paper on the table.

Courage scanned the drawing and gasped. It looked exactly like one of the statues that the Clutching Foot had stolen.

"Yes, one of the statues look like that." Courage answered.

"Well, the good news is that none of your new questionable friends were trying to kill you," Shirley explained.

It was like a terrible weight on Courage lifted only for a new one to settle on the dog.

"What's the bad news?" he asked because there is always bad news.

"The bad news is that your friends are possibly in danger," Shirley told him.

"What?" Courage squeaked.

"A spirit lives in the statue. The spirit strives on terror and will take on the form or something or someone the person is afraid of." Shirley explained.

"Except for the Clutching Foot, I've been living with the villains for months. It doesn't explain why it took the forms of Katz, Cajun, Le Quack, and Weremole." Courage stated.

"Maybe you're still afraid of them subconsciously." Shirley offered.

It could be. Courage has seen Katz angry plenty of times and seen him take it out on Cajun most of those times.

"Why would the villains be in danger? There's nothing they're afraid of." Courage said.

"Anyone would be afraid of being eaten," Shirley answered.

Courage almost spilled his tea. "What?" he whispered.

"This spirit eats those it terrorizes. Which was lucky for you when you ran away." Shirley said.

"Oh, no." Courage whined. He needed to go back and save his frie- no his family. He finished the tea and quickly said, "Thank you for the tea, Shirley." he hesitated and added, "How much do I owe you for the information?"

"Free of charge just this once," Shirley answered.

"Thank you again." Courage replied. He said his goodbyes to Shirley and took off back home, hoping all the way that he's not too late to save them.

Courage didn't notice the distance it took to get home being a fretting state the whole way. It felt quiet when he got home; the door squeaked open much too loud when he pushed it open. Courage's heart thudded hard as he walked into the house, and out of habit, Courage called out, "Katz? Cajun?"

He wasn't surprised when he didn't get a reply. Courage spotted the basement door slightly ajar, and with the knowledge that the villains were in danger, he made his way down the stairs. Halfway down, Courage heard an unfamiliar voice speak, "Hmmm, who to cook first? Not the giant foot, it'll be last. Hmmm, maybe the fox."

"Whoa, whoa. I already been cooked once. I have no desire to be cooked again." Cajun stated.

"And it's that fear of being cooked again is what will make you a delicious appetizer." the evil spirit tittered.

Courage hurried down the rest of the stairs, almost losing his footing twice and once in the basement found the villains tied up except for Weremole, who seemed to be locked in a chest. The chest shook around, and Courage could hear Weremole growling and hissing from inside. A cauldron similar to the one the villains chained Muriel over sat in the middle of the room, and a lovely woman carrying Cajun over her head strolled over to the cauldron.

"Can't we just order you some take out instead?" Cajun offered.

"Cajun fox stew sounds better." the spirit stated.

With a cry, Courage rushed over just as the spirit tossed the screaming fox into the cauldron. Courage leaped and tackled Cajun before he hit the bubbling liquid, and Courage skidded across the ground hard.

"Oh, Pup. I'm so thrilled to see you." Cajun said with a tiny frighten whimper.

"I'm amazed you came back." the spirit said.

"I couldn't let you eat the villains." Courage stated.

The spirit winced slightly at that. "Even after four of your friends tried to kill you?" the spirit inquired.

"I know now that it was you who took on the forms of Cajun, Katz, Le Quack, and Weremole and tried to kill and possibly eat me." Courage said.

"I told ya I wasn't tryin' to cook Pup!" Cajun hollered at Katz.

"Now is not the time for that." Katz hissed back.

"Such bravery. How I loathe it." sneered the spirit. "Luckily, your friends have their little fears that are keeping me from returning into my prison. Did you know the giant foot is afraid of you, dog? It fears you will lick it as you did once before. We already know one of the fox's fears, but the cat's fear is the juiciest I've ever tasted. Would you like to know what it is?"

Courage watched as Katz seemed to freeze at the spirit's words. "No, I don't care what Katz is afraid of. All I care about is saving them from you." Courage told the spirit.

"Even though you still fear them?" the spirit asked with a grin.

"What?" Cajun asked.

Courage could hear the hurt in Cajun's tone, and looking at the other villains staring back at him could see the pain in their eyes.

"You are still afraid even though we done nothing to you the whole time we've been here?" Le Quack asked.

Seeing the smug look on the spirit's face and knowing he had no way out of it, Courage confessed, "How can I not? You are all villains, you all done something terrible in one or another to Muriel or Eustace or both or me, and it's hard to forget when someone or something incurs Katz's wrath." a determined look crossed Courage's face as he stared into the spirit's eyes. "But the spirit refused to mention that I'm afraid of other things and other villains I encountered in the past, it just chose to take on your forms because it was convenient."

"You mean something like these?" the spirit asked. With a wave of its arm, the windmill vandals, the dummies, and the other creatures they encountered recently showed up.

Courage shook at the sight of them but kept his resolve as he continued. "They scare me, but they are are a lot less terrifying than the thought of losing my family to them."

A stun silence filled the basement. "Family? What family?" Le Quack wondered.

"You mean us?" Cajun asked.

"Yes. I never hesitated to save my loved ones from danger, and none of you are the exception. And I decided we were a family after you rescued from that creature." Courage admitted.

"Oh, Pup. I'd hug ya if I could." Cajun said, his tail wagging.

"Such a strange hodgepodge family this is." Le Quack stated.

"What about us?" Big Toe spoke up.

"As long as you don't try to take any of the others hostage to force me to do a heist or any other terrible thing to me, then you can be part of the family." Courage told him.

The previous villains disappeared as the spirit wailed. Courage and the villains turned towards the spirit as it doubled over, taking on the forms of four of them.

"That's unnerving," Cajun commented.

"You wretched little dog! Those positive emotions are like poison to me." the spirit hissed.

"No matter how many times someone or something comes and puts my family in danger, I will continue to face those things to save them." Courage promised.

"We'll do the same for you." Le Quack said.

"Yeah." Big Toe and the other four toes agreed.

The spirit let out a shriek and disappeared. Courage put the fire out the fire under the cauldron first then using his teeth gnawed through the ropes on Cajun since he was closer. Cajun let Weremole out of the chest as Courage freed the others.

"Now then, do you have any idea where that spirit came from?" Katz asked Courage.

"One of the gold statues is its prison." Courage answered.

Everyone turned towards the Clutching Foot. "How were we suppose to know, see?" Big Toe said.

"Yeah, how were we suppose to know?" the other four toes agreed.

"Well, take it back where you got it from," Cajun suggested.

"We can't see? They'll know it's us, see?" Big Toe said, followed by four, "Yeah."

"I'll take it back." Le Quack offered.

"Ain't ya worried about being arrested?" Cajun inquired.

"No prison can hold Le Quack." the duck stated.

"Make it quick," Katz said.

The Clutching Foot and Le Quack went back upstairs first to gather the stolen goods, and Cajun said to Courage, "I'm gonna make ya dumplings for dinner tonight."

"Yay." Courage cheered as his tail wagged.

Courage and Weremole were the next to go upstairs, and once they were gone, Cajun turned to Katz.

"So pussy cat, what are ya afraid of?" Cajun asked Katz.

Katz's ears flattened against his head as he narrowed his eyes at the fox. "Why should I tell you?" he questioned back.

"Fair's fair since you know my fears," Cajun stated.

"And I won't hesitate to light a fire under the cauldron again and make cajun fox stew." Katz countered.

Cajun held his paws up in defeat. "Okay, I get it. I won't ask again."

Cajun left, and after making sure he was all alone, Katz whispered, "What I fear is losing Courage to that fox."

[shannaraisles]

In Marcher Fields - Chapter 23

Poppy Hawke was never the daughter her mother wanted, the sister her twin preferred, the hero Kirkwall desired. They do not see the woman who stands between them and the chaos that threatens. No one takes the time to look, until she crosses the path of a certain Knight-Captain with demons of his own to battle ���

[Read on AO3]

9:42 Dragon, Solace

Skyhold was so quiet without the majority of the Inquisition in residence.

Poppy was uncomfortably reminded of Kirkwall in the days following the Qunari invasion, a population discovering slowly just how much had been lost in the chaos, a stillness covering everything for days. There was no such mourning here and now, of course - indeed, the Inquisition had just achieved a victory over Corypheus in the Arbor Wilds. But most of the Inquisition were still in the Arbor Wilds, dealing with prisoners, ferrying the wounded safely out of harm's way. The only reason she was in Skyhold was because she had outright refused to be left behind when Cullen had joined the rest of Xena's inner circle to rush ahead to the fortress.

But there was a restlessness hanging over Skyhold. Corypheus' army had been defeated, not Corypheus himself. No one knew better than Poppy that he would not give up so easily.

She pushed away from the gatehouse battlements, turning back to look into the lower courtyard, quietly agitated in herself. Xena and her advisors were closeted in the war room; the rest of the inner circle were in their accustomed places around the fortress, each waiting to be told what the next step would entail. A skeleton crew of guards and servants made the fortress seem far less populous than it had been just a few weeks before. But that lack of people made unknown faces very easy to spot.

It was a dwarf that had caught her attention. Ordinarily, dwarves were a regular sight in Skyhold, the much-needed connection to the lyrium supply from Orzammar, but this one ... there was something furtive in the way he moved. He walked with purpose, certainly, but kept glancing around, as though expecting to be challenged at any moment. Poppy's eyes narrowed.

Best not to disappoint him, then.

Passing through the unused gatehouse and down the steps into the upper courtyard, she lengthened her stride to intercept the furtive dwarf as he reached the top of the wide steps from the lower courtyard. He stuttered out an apology as she ran into him, barely catching his breath before her hand clamped onto his shoulder and dragged him back under the arch of the stairway that lead to the keep proper. Bearded and tattooed - Carta, or casteless-turned-exile, she realized - the dwarf glared up at her as Poppy pressed him against the stone.

"Who sent you?" she asked, pleasant enough for the time being.

"Messenger from the camp," he answered her in a gruff tone, though she noted he was clever enough not to try and pull out of her grasp.

"Nice try," Poppy countered. "But you're not wearing any insignia I recognize, and you move like someone worried about being caught. Now ... there are two people who could have sent you that immediately spring to mind. One of them will result in you being put in the cells; the other will result in you turning around and taking a message back from me. Lying to me will result in more than a few bruises. You look like a clever lad. So who sent you?"

She could see the options flickering through the dwarf's mind - was his employer worth getting himself beaten up by the Champion of Kirkwall? No one was worth that. Inviting the woman who had killed the Arishok to kick the Void out of you was stupidity worthy of a prize, and they both knew it. He sagged a little under her grip, pulling a neatly-folded letter from his pocket. Poppy glanced at the initial written on it, and felt a part of herself growl. Bianca.

"Where is she?" she demanded, her grip tightening on the dwarf's shoulder. "In the camp?"

He winced at the bite of her fingers through his cloak. "Not here, messare," he swore vehemently. "Traveling with her husband."

"But she found the time to write this and send it here," Poppy pointed out with a scowl. She considered her captive for a moment. "Are you her courier of choice?"

The dwarf cleared his throat awkwardly. "For Ferelden and the Marches," he told her. "Personal courier."

"How many of these letters have you delivered to Varric over the years?" she asked suspiciously.

"Too many," he admitted. "It's steady money, messare."

Poppy paused, thinking over her options. She knew that Varric had called it off with Bianca, not simply because he had begun a relationship with Xena - who, in her opinion, deserved her friend infinitely more than the smith who had kept him hanging for years - but also because he had shown her the letter he had sent to Bianca making his position absolutely clear. That Bianca would disregard his request to cut all ties was enough to make Poppy angry. But she could see a way to deal with it while preserving Varric's opinion of the woman he had once loved.

"That steady money should have dried up already," she told him honestly. "Varric wants nothing more to do with her, and I will not allow my friend to be badgered and prodded at by someone who forfeited her right to his attention years ago. I am going to burn this letter. You are going to assure her that you delivered it. I am sure she'll send another one when she gets no reply. You will burn it. You will burn every letter she gives you to give to Varric, and you will swear blind that you delivered them. And I won't hunt you down and make you regret ever lying to me. Are we clear?"

His eyes narrowed as he looked up at her. "What do I get out of this, messare?"

Poppy bent down until she was glaring into his eyes from barely an inch away, her voice low with menace. "To walk away."

The dwarf swallowed, apparently not needing much time to weigh his options at this point. An offer to have your ability to walk removed by a human legend in her own lifetime could do that.

"Right you are, Messare Hawke," he agreed. "Tethras won't get another letter from her via my hands."

"Glad to hear it." Poppy straightened, removing her hand from his shoulder, and jerked her head back toward the gatehouse and the bridge to the mechanized lift. "Sod off."

The unfortunate messenger did just that, taking the steps back down to the lower courtyard a good deal faster than he'd come up them. Poppy frowned, looking down at the letter in her hands. It was so tempting to open it, to find out exactly what Bianca thought she was doing, but at the same time ... these were private words. They were words that were not meant for anyone but Varric, and though Poppy had no intention of letting him find out they had ever been written, she wouldn't betray her friend by reading them.

"Although it really doesn't surprise me that she doesn't understand what the word "no" means," she muttered to herself, inserting one corner of the folded and sealed parchment into the flame of the nearest torch.

And, without warning, green light flashed across the world, a ponderous crack of thunder following it as high above the clouds swirled, horribly familiar to anyone who had looked up at the sky following the explosion at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The burning parchment dropped from Poppy's fingers as he head snapped up, hearing the cursing that rose from everyone in this outer area.

Corypheus.

So he had surfaced. Too arrogant to run and hide, to lick his wounds and try again years from now, he was forcing a confrontation. And by the look of things, he had gone back to Haven to reopen the Breach.

She felt a flare of anger that her mistake had come back to haunt so many people all over again, her feet already moving toward the armory. She wasn't the only one headed in that direction - Iron Bull, Sera, Blackwall; they were all moving to collect their weapons, expecting to accompany the Inquisitor to this final confrontation. Poppy glanced up at the window of the war room, seeing Josephine's frightened face, Leliana's impassive wariness at her back.

A few minutes later, and she was ducking out of the armory, settling her armor and weapons about herself, unsurprised to be stepping aside as Xena and Varric hurried past her to arm themselves. Servants were bustling, throwing together packs for the journey down to the site of the Inquisition's first defeat; on the other side of the bailey, she could hear Master Dennet and his grooms preparing the mounts for their party. And there was Cullen, stone-faced, worry in his eyes as she tightened the last buckle and moved to join him for these few moments.

"I have to go," she told him before he could open his mouth to argue. "Corypheus was my mistake in the first place. I have to be there."

"I know." Cullen's sigh was heavy, but accepting, his hands falling to her shoulders as he looked into her eyes. "I want to come with you, but ..."

She reached up, gently curling her fingers to his cheek. "I know," she promised, drawing him down to press her brow to his. "We're going to win this, Cullen. I am coming back."

"Maker, please ..."

Heedless of any curious eyes that might turn to them, he pulled her into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck as she wrapped her own arms tight about him. She could feel him trembling, knew he could feel her shaking in answer. This was a fight she might not come back from ... but she refused to admit that aloud. She had lost too much not to have earned her happy ending. Not even Corypheus was going to keep her from having that promised home with her husband at long last. She just had to see this through to the end that loomed over them.

"Hawke."

Varric's voice as he passed, his hand on her back, drew her out of that embrace, a warning that there would be no waiting for her if she missed their departure. Cullen stiffened, his lips warm against her temple before he let her step back. No more words - everything that needed to be said between them had been said too many times before. All that remained was hope; hope that there would be no more need for such words when she returned again.

Poppy nodded to her husband, falling into step with the rest of Xena's motley crew, all of them somber with the knowledge that this really was the final confrontation. Riding out of Skyhold, turning their faces to the looming threat of the Breach, they all knew just one thing ... it was Corypheus or the world.

No more chances.

[ssr-moonlore]

Washed Ashore: Part 2

Author’s comments: I wrote this basically in one sitting. I proofread a bit but it’s so late, so if there’s any obvious typos, let me know! Also, i hope you enjoy the picture of  Drang with Ferry’s pets having a snooze.

Rated T I guess? Nothing really happens, but I have no clue about ratings.

Word count :2206

Part 1

Drang was deep in thought as he swam towards the underwater city he called home. He couldn’t believe his luck, after being stuck on dry land for a week without being able to get out of the trap, he was sure he’d die, but he hadn’t. He thought back to the land dweller with hair the colour of dark corals.

She hadn’t tried to harm him, despite having heard stories from many others of his kind that the land-dwellers were often dangerous and protective of their non-watery territories and often clashed with each other, crabs, and anything unfortunate enough to be washed ashore.

The spires of the underwater city were coming into view, and despite being incredibly weak from his ordeal he made a dash for his clan’s residence. The sun was high in the sky and the rays illuminated his path as he dipped into a ravine and to the familiar gaps in the cliffs. He slowed, feeling his exhaustion catch up to him and with his last reserves of energy swam into the main hall. A few familiar faces greeted him, and one in particular swam up to him in alarm.

“I’m home…” Drang chirped weakly at the small but ancient water elemental before him. Matching golden eyes peered at him with concern, and her wild blue waves surrounded them as her small hands reached to grasp his arms.

“Where have you been, Drang?! We’ve been so worried!” The slight water elemental’s brows furrowed as she looked Drang over, inspecting the small cuts and wounds littering his body. He wasn’t as dry any more, but his skin was still not back to its usual state.

“I… I got caught in one of the land dweller’s nets and I got washed onto some rocks. I was trapped for a while, but then I managed to get… rescued?” Drang pondered his words for a moment before continuing, “I’m sorry for making you worry, Ferry.” He hung his head down and took a deep breath, relishing the feeling on having cool water rush past his gills after being above water for so long.

Ferry looked up at Drang, and the concern on her face, while still there, had slowly begun to melt. She didn’t want any more of her clan to perish, least of all someone who came from the same magical vein as her.

Her small hands began to drag the larger figure deeper into the hall, and through winding caverns until the two of them reached a small cavern adorned with bulbous lights, countless gems, and an immeasurably large hollowed out shell filled with soft folded over kelp. Ferry swam over to the shell and pushed Drang towards it.

“Sleep. You look awful. You must have gone through a lot.” She put her hand to Drang’s head and gently petted him as he curled up on the soft kelp. He didn’t remember his bed being this soft, but then again, he never really noticed how nice being in water was. His one golden eye began to close, but opened when a small array of creatures stormed into his room.

Ferry swam up from the bed trying to shoo her pets away, but they swam past her and towards Drang excitedly.

“Guys, no! He needs to sleep!” Ferry grabbed onto the biggest of her four pets, but the force of the hulking creature dragged her along with him. “Beppo! No, stop!”

Drang gave a chuckle as his face was assaulted by fins and tongues. Ferry’s pets had clearly missed his presence, and the unusually long absence had been unbearable to them. Drang gave a moment of attention to each of them, and as their excitement subsided, some of the smaller critters began to curl up around him and snooze, unwilling to leave him out of their sights.

Ferry gave an exasperated sigh and shook her head, but looked up with a small smile at the scene unfolding before her. Drang, curled up with all manner of small creatures, had quickly fallen asleep. The small water elemental swam out of the room softly, and let the bead curtains fall over the doorway. Her clan was safe and accounted for, and Drang, though slightly injured, had come home after having been missing for a while.

 He dreamt. The small horned land-dweller had been the focus of most of his dreams. Her piercing amber eyes and silent manner had been burnt into the back of his mind. He dreamt of that steely grip she had on him, harsh and unyielding, yet somehow soft. His mind kept replaying the scenes of her reaching for her weapons, but instead of hurting, she freed him.

He couldn’t get the vision of her out of his dreams.

 Drang awoke hours later, though he had felt like he had slept for days. He was still covered in Ferry’s pets, and as he stirred, all four of them let out an array of grumbles, chirps and clicks. He stretched out his arms, and for the first time in days he had the chance to properly inspect himself.

He brushed a hand over his tail, and grimaced at the scratched scales. They would renew soon, but he didn’t like the marred look of them. As he looked over his arms he scowled at the state of them. His skin was much more damaged than he had originally thought, and his left sleeve had completely torn off.

He sighed with dismay and proceeded to remove the metal cuffs and curves that he wore, and left his room to try and find other ones he could adorn himself with. His room was small, and didn’t offer many storage solutions, but he knew he had some backups somewhere in the store-rooms in the clan’s caverns.

As he slowly swam out of his room and through the meandering tunnels, he came across a few of his “sisters” and they started clamouring at him, fussing over his wounds and his lack of jewellery.

They pulled him along and as they reached a hall-like cavern, they began to brush his hair and scales, and several pairs of hands lit up to heal any cracked scales and small cuts. Drang had never liked being fussed over by his family, but with how isolated he had been over the last week, he relished the feeling of being taken care of.

After what seemed like an eternity to him, he had finally had enough, and with being healed of his wounds and decked out in new clothes and jewels, he made a dash for the other caverns and to the main hall to find Ferry.

He had never enjoyed bed rest, and he knew it was probably wisest to stay home and not exert himself, but his curiosity had grown following his dream about the coral-headed land dweller who had cut him from his binds and thrown him back into the sea, rough as it may have been. He weaved through the narrow tunnels until he appeared at the main hall, and he instantly found the cloud of cerulean he was looking for.

Ferry was deep in meditation, but felt the waters stir and she turned to see Drang gingerly approaching her.

“Up already?” She chirped at him. Drang nodded slowly. “I can see that my descendants got their hands on you.”

Drang sighed, and gave a chuckle. “Yeah, they did. I had to run away to get away from their grips.”

Ferry gave him a small smile. But it quickly faded when she noticed the minute signs that Drang was antsy. She knew he never liked staying home, and that exploring was what kept him from going crazy, but she had her reservations about him leaving already. Her eyebrows pulled together and she took a deep breath.

“You want to go out already,” Ferry was calm, but her voice was riddled with concern. “You just came back after being missing for a week.”

“I know, I know,” Drang started. “But… see, there’s this land-dweller who rescued me.”

Ferry’s concern grew at those words. He mentioned being rescued, but nothing about a land dweller.

Drang meanwhile had started talking excitably, as he did when he found something new in the depths of the ocean. “Her hair was the colour of corals! I’ve never seen anything like it, and her eyes? They looked like gemstones the way they were shining. And she was so small!”

Ferry put a hand up to stop Drang from speaking.

“You want to go see this.. land-dweller? Are you sure that she won’t just attack you if you approach?” She had grown incredibly concerned at the thought of having Drang go near a land-dweller, after hearing so many stories of how violent these creatures were in some part of the seas.

“She saved me. She cut me out of the net and even threw me back into the sea. I don’t… I don’t think she would attack me.” Drang began. “I could tell with how easily she picked me up that she’s incredibly powerful, but she did me no harm!”

Ferry sighed and closed her eyes, lowering her hand. She knew that at this point there was no way to convince Drang to stay at home and not go and see this unpredictable creature, but she wasn’t happy with the results.

“I can’t stop you, but don’t approach her too quickly. Stay away from her and watch from a distance, you don’t know if she might attack you.” She breathed out.

Drang’s smile grew into the mischievous smile she knew and loved, and before she could say another word, Drang had already slipped through a tunnel and out of the room.

 He sped through the tunnels and out into the ravine, and as he swam upwards to the surface, he noticed the big round moon in the sky. He broke the surface and admired the way the moon and stars glistened in the sky, but quickly refocused on the task he had given himself.

He began to swim towards the island where he had been trapped. It wasn’t particularly far, but he had to navigate with the stars to find the small land mass. He noticed a large structure that he figured was the land dweller’s boat, and next to it he saw a small shining speck. As he approached, he couldn’t quite understand what the light was, as the red and orange hues were unfamiliar to him, but with the light it provided he could see the land-dweller curled up against the boat. He inched closer and could make out her hair, the colour of the sky during sunset, and how small she actually was.  

He stayed there, silently for a while, watching her steady breathing. He kept moving closer until he was in the shallow waters, sand brushing against his chest as he crept up the beach. The light flickered and danced across her face, and he noticed how peaceful and soft she looked. It was such a stark contrast to the harsh and steely expression she had when she was cutting him out of the net.

Drang couldn’t help but feel his heart drum in his chest as he began to crawl onto the sand. This was the same feeling he got every time he found something new during his explorations.

He was ignoring everything Ferry had told him, but he couldn’t help it. She was definitely one of the most beautiful things he had come across, despite having found gems and gold and riches unimaginable in the old ships of the land dwellers.

Drang was now a few strides away from Sturm, and at this point he noticed that the light was warm. He was momentarily distracted by the light and wasn’t aware that he had let out a small sound when he suddenly saw the bundled-up figure stirring.

Her eyes opened slowly and she blinked a couple of times before instinctively reaching for a harpoon and backing up toward the boat. In the same heartbeat Drang had already tried moving back towards the sea but his body wasn’t built for moving on sand.

He looked back in a panic and saw an expression of confusion on the face of the land dweller. He quickly moved his hands but his weak arms weren’t pulling him fast enough. He noticed the figure stand up and at that point Drang felt his insides grow cold as she held her weapon towards him.

In his panicked state, he couldn’t think of a better way of moving faster, so he started rolling himself across the beach, something he’d seen Beppo do in the past. As he did, he let out a steady stream of pleas of mercy and apologies and as he hit the water and swam a safe distance away, he looked back and noticed the figure staring at him, and as their gazes locked, he could hear her starting to laugh and shake her head as she sat back down and put her weapon to the side.

Drang kept looking at her for a few moments, but decided that this had been a dangerous enough endeavour and he dipped his head back underwater and started to swim towards home.

[kalicofox]

This is the campaign (really just two sessions) that emotionally traumatized two of the characters. The players seemed to like it tho, so I ended up writing it all out.

Please note, I’m a really new DM, so I got some stuff wrong. Apparently becoming undead damages the soul so that it should be impossible to resurrect the subject, so I’m just going to claim divine intervention and never do that again.

@nolyriumforyou @who300 @rowenthegreat

A few weeks ago, (about a month and a half, game time,) the guild was hired to figure out what was attacking the fishing boats and put a stop to it. Orianna (a psionic), Med (a wizard), and Delg (a monk) were all assigned this mission and let borrow three rings of water breathing from the guild's armory.

They hitched a ride out with the small fleet (only five boats, which is weird, hadn't there been more before?) and when they got near where the attacks (ripped nets, people pulled overboard, but no real harm done) happened, the three of them jumped overboard and went to see what they could see.

What they found was a beautiful underwater temple, marked with the spiral of the sea goddess Amphrite, and a small merfolk child that looked to be about ten years old. He introduced himself as Ko, and led them to the leader of the merfolk pod who informed them that the fishing boats were breaking a treaty between the merfolk and Lyrabar, and even more importantly, harvesting the schools of fish that the merfolk raised as their own food source.

The leader, Nami, said that if they didn't stop in three days, they'd have no choice but to start escalating things, because by around that point there might not be enough food for the entire pod.

The three promised to sort it all out, went back to land, found the treaty, found that it was valid, and talked to the fishers and found out that the only reason they were even in merfolk water was because the fishing had 'dried up' everywhere else. so they go back to the merfolk to see what they know about it, and find out that there are Merrow around.

Merrow are Merfolk who have been corrupted either by madness, or twisted magic, or by dark gods. They kill indescriminately, and they'd been killing the fish outside of the merfolk territory.

The merfolk wouldn't go near them because it was thought that the 'whisperings' would spread and corrupt them, too, so the three decided to go on their own.

At this point, Orianna's player, had to go to bed because it was ridiculously late, so Med and Delg decided to carry on on their own.

So they carry on, and not only do they find merrow, they find sunken fishing boats.

The other half of the fleet.

And the corpses of the fisherpeople that had been on them, strung to kelp like balloons. (because that's what merrow do to mark their territory.)

So, they find a cave that looks interesting, and go to investigate it, and realize that they're being stalked by four Merrow.

Instead of running, they decide to hang around and fight it out Not only does Delg, the monk not have enough leverage to use basically any martial arts under water, he also uses an electricity based ki ability, while under water.

Needless to say, in the end, Delg died.

Med, meanwhile, fled for their life.

However, it's a thing in D&D that a person can be ressurrected if the corpse is there and it's within a hundred years of their death.

So.

That was the end of that session, and the players chose not to head back out and try to deal with that stuff. During the sessions between that one and the one I’ll tell you about next, I started dropping hints. Townsfolk got colder to the guild members, people weren’t very happy with them, and there was gossip about several new adventurers coming to town.

Now we come to the Big One.

Last weekend, Orianna and Gell (played by the same person who played Delg) decide to go get Delgs corpse so they can have him resurrected. They'll have to pay back the cost to the guild, but they're okay with that.

Unfortunately, it's been a month and a half since their failed mission, and when they get down to the dock, something is off. It smells bad. Not just like fish, but like decay and rot.

But they don't see anything obviously wrong, so they head over to the dockmaster's office and see about getting a ride back out to where the merfolk village is.

I don't remember exactly what happened next but the Dock master ended up saying something about how the problem had been solved, and the way he said it made Orianna suspicious

When she asked how exactly it'd been solved, he simply waved a hand at the water and said 'See for yourself.'

The water was full of body parts.

Anywhere that sticks, or twigs, or grass might have been caught, there were limbs, or chunks of flesh, all scaled lightly blue

and Orianna screamed

That's how the other adventuring group that'd been hired 'solved' the problem. They went down and slaughtered every water breather they could find. and then they left.

Not their town, they don't care, and they still got paid.

It gets worse

Orianna goes a little nuts. She has to know if Ko, and the other merfolk child she'd met, Tikka, were okay, and she's about reading to swim the mile and a half out on her own to find out. Instead, they manage to get a ride out on the ferry, paying for the ride and jumping off right about where they think the village was.

And it's in ruins.

The temple's been desecrated, torn halfway down, and as they're trying to figure  out what to do, they spot an undead merrow watching them from the shadows. Gell goes to move towards it, and as soon as he does, it bolts and of course, they follow.

it leads them in the opposite direction of Delg's body, back toward the shore, but at an angle that leads them toward the cliffs, and after a while they come across a sunken ship and a body tied down with kelp that they recognize. The only captain who didn't make fun of Orianna for being unable to climb on board her ship from the water.

Orianna loses it again, and blasts a hole in the sunken ship. Another merrow comes out, they kill it, and then follow the line of corpses around the edges of the territory until they reach the cliffs.

At this point, the currents are hella strong, and they almost die from being smashed against the rocks. At the last second, however, they're dragged through a small opening and into an enormous, beehive shaped cave. Inside the cave it's half underwater, half air, and lining the walls both above and below are ledges.

35 of which are filled with sleeping figures

Or at least, most of them are sleeping.

Two big, black eyes are watching them as they surface, and as Orianna attempts to talk to the owner of the eyes, it slips into the water.

So of course, they book it out of the water and onto the only shallow, beach like area that just so happens to lead back into a tunnel.

And Orianna still wants to talk, even when a gigantic merrow, nearly thirteen feet tall, shows up, calls her an oath breaker, and  calls not only two more merrow to his side, but two small, undead merrow as well.

So now they're facing off against five merrow, one of which is HUGE, and two of which are undead.

It's really easy to see what killed those two, too. One of them, her spine is severed, cut through with a sword slash that crosses her whole back.

The other, his entire right side is crushed, like he'd gotten caught under falling debris.

So Orianna and Gell end up having to fight, and fight they do.

Until the leader of the Merrow awakens every single merrow in that cave and Orianna realizes exactly who those two little undead merrow are.

It's Ko and Tikka.

So, in the rational mindset she's now in, she tells Gell to run, and uses an ability she has that's called Detonation. Which does exactly what the name implies it does.

It blows up every single one of the 35 merrow in that cave in a gigantic fireball of doom.

She manages to shape it so that it doesn't hurt her, Ko, or Tikka, and it doesn't quite kill the leader, but when he realizes that she's protecting them, he reaches out to tear Ko in half, and she stabs him in the face with an enormous spike of ice. and then she screams, out loud for Gell.

So the Merrow leader is dead, and Orianna is now completely set on taking Ko and Tikka back to have them resurrected, so they wrap them in cloaks,  just in case, and take them back.

They have to sneak them past the city guards, who are there specifically to keep out undead, but they manage it.

Gell scares the shit out of some kids because Ko's arm falls out of the cloak when he's asking them if they'd mind running a message for him, and Orianna talks out loud to avoid scaring them so she can send a message for Creel (the guildmaster) to meet them at the land based Temple of Amphrite.

Who are, you might have guessed, really not happy with the entire guild for the slaughter and destruction of their sister-temple

So.

They manage to get to the temple, but can't go in because hallowed ground plus undead equals unhappy undead, so Orianna has to go in and manages to convince a mid level priestess (cleric) to come out and help her. As soon as the Priestess sees what's going on, she leads them to a small single room apartment and has them unwrap the two on to the table inside.

And then she kills Ko and Tikka.

As soon as that's done, she starts to pray, and after a few minutes, the two of them start to fill out. Their wounds heal, the ragged bits flesh back out again, and after a moment they start to breathe.

The instant they open their eyes, they see Orianna, and both of them denounce her as a traitor and an oath breaker, because she'd broken her promise to help them and make sure nothing bad would happen.

Alania, the cleric, gets Gell to help take them back into the temple, and the two go into a saltwater pool, where they'll live while Alania tries to undo the corruption that turned them into merrow. Orianna, as penance, basically, will be helping to undo the mental part of the corruption.

As soon as they're in the water, Orianna goes to return to the guild hall, but only makes it out of the room before collapsing in a dead faint.

Alania scans her to see what's wrong, and pronounces it exhaustion. Nothing serious. But she is worried about her voice, so she gives Gell a jar of honey that's been blended with herbs, and a note, and the two of them head back to pass out.

Gell puts Orianna to bed, and passes out on her floor, and that's where last Saturday's session ended.

(Creel, btw, is basically stunned speechless to hear Orianna speak. She hadn't even known that Orianna could speak.)

[thefoxholecourtrp]

THIS IS YOUR GAME

Name: Louis Granger Age: Twenty One Class Year: Senior  Position: Vixen Hometown: Matane, Quebec, Canada

THIS IS YOUR MOMENT

TW: Suicide, mental illness, self harm, hospitalization

It started with a crime scene. An eighteen-year-old girl dead on arrival with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head, newborn baby left shrieking in the next room. A few weeks later the officer that had arrived on the scene, along with his wife, were signing adoption papers. The Grangers, in their early 40s by the time they adopted Louis, were desperate for children they couldn’t have themselves and had accepted that maybe they weren’t meant to be parents until Louis came to them. The home he’d come from had obviously been a troubled one, and they would later learn that his biological mother had been thrown out by her parents when she became pregnant and struggled with severe postnatal depression following Louis’ birth, leading to her unfortunate suicide. The Grangers kept this in mind as they raised Louis, making sure he was always happy and well looked after, giving him the absolute best they could provide him with and hoping it would be enough.

Historically, the Grangers were an athletic family: his father was a basketball player in his youth and his mother taught figure skating. And Louis was no different: he spent his childhood attending his mother’s practices and thus became a talented skater, a talent that lead him straight to ice hockey. Louis loved hockey because it was fast and aggressive, it made his adrenaline rush like nothing else and it quickly went from a hobby to an obsession. Hockey consumed his every waking moment, and his parents became as committed as he was as they ferried him to and from practices that started at 6am, practices that went on until late into the night, games that took place in cities hundreds of miles away. They wanted him to be the best, just as much as Louis wanted that for himself.

Things started to change after Louis went to boarding school. At fourteen he was offered a scholarship to an exclusive sports academy in the United States and it was too good of an opportunity to pass up—he had too much potential not to go all the way when his future was being held out to him on a silver platter. Only it wasn’t what Louis expected at all. He’d always been one of the best—if not the best—on the teams he’d played on, but his peers in this school were among some of the highest prospects in the world, not just a small town in Quebec. He was shocked to find that most of his peers were better than him: faster, stronger, more prepared for the pressure and the air of competition that came with that kind of environment, and it didn’t take long for Louis to start crumbling under the pressure. The once happy, excitable boy from Canada was replaced with a sombre, serious doppelganger that worked harder than his body was capable of to try and ignore his tortured mind. 

His desire to be better was the only thing that got Louis out of bed, that made him go to his classes, practices, and games, the only thing that made him physically able to take in food when his stomach was in knots all the time. He had to exhaust himself to the point of collapse just to sleep at night. Louis couldn’t say how or why the cutting started, but once it did he couldn’t stop it. Before he knew it, the insides of his thighs and upper arms were littered with cuts, hidden away under hockey gear and long sleeves. He kept it to himself, knowing what the consequences could be if the school found out, and kept pretending like everything was fine. He practised until he couldn’t feel his limbs, convinced himself this was what he wanted, prayed it would all pay off. But it would not.

The night before a game, his anxiety got the better of him. He didn’t panic when the blade went a little too deep into his leg, instead he wrapped it up like he always did and willed it to heal enough that he could make it through the next day. He was confident when he got to the arena, as he warmed up with the team, even as they went into the first period—and he managed to make it halfway through before it all went wrong. It was surreal how quickly the stands went silent, though Louis was unaware that anything was wrong until someone called his name. He turned and saw that he’d left a trail of blood behind him on the ice, looked down and saw how it started to pool on his gear that he’d bled straight through. He only glimpsed it for a moment before the medics dragged him off the ice—and then they thought it was a hockey injury, a skate blade gone awry. They soon realized it was something worse. 

SEIZE IT WITH EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT

After Louis’ mental state and self harm came to light, he was temporarily removed from the program at his school and placed in psychiatric care. With a successful combination of medication and counselling, he was discharged in a couple of months and rather than returning to his school, he went back to Canada to be with his family. He tried to steer clear hockey as best he could, but some aspects of it were unavoidable. Worried about his well-being, his parents insisted that he be homeschooled for the remainder of his high school education, and that meant a lot of afternoons and evenings spent at the ice rink, Louis doing his notes while his mother taught her figure skating classes. Eventually, Louis found himself joining her on the ice, assisting her with her classes and starting to enjoy being on ice again, rather than seeing it as a trigger.

And while cheerleading isn’t quite ice skating or hockey, Louis finds himself happy enough participating in a sport than can put his coordination and agility to good use. Following graduation, he found himself in Palmetto—but he never had any intention of joining the Vixens. His only plans at college were to get his degree and, like, become a teacher or something, but he saw what they did and what they could do and it brought back every good feeling he used to have about hockey, the idea of getting to be part of an elite team, especially when it was something he knew he could be good at. He knows he’s taken a chance by joining the Vixens but he hopes it’s one of his smarter ideas. He failed before because he forgot that, above all else, hockey was meant to be fun, and he hopes that cheerleading can be a new start for him and not something else he ends up resenting.

LOUIS GRANGER is portrayed by SIMON LOOF and is TAKEN