#what end of the 'i'm gonna die before my partner' scale are you? are you trying to make them let go before you're even gone

[drawsmaddy]

[ID: A digital line drawing of Caleb Widogast and Vax'ildan from Critical Role. Caleb is drawn with wrinkles and he's saying "Okay babe I'm getting old, time for you to move on." Text underneath what Caleb says reads (Essek does not want to move on while Caleb is still ALIVE). Vax'ildan is drawn with the raven skull mask he wears as the Champion of the Matron of Ravens and he is holding his left hand up in a peace sign. Text above him reads "been dead for 30 years and still sending ravens" and below that (Keyleth can't move on) is written. End description.]

They both suck at this (affectionate)

[woethehero]

Wyrd RPG Blog Post #1 !!! - Introduction to my Project

Hey Hero (: Thanks for taking a look! If you'll have me, I'd like to share a TTRPG (tabletop roleplaying game) project I've been working on for a bit after finally taking a plunge, and I wanted to document it in a fun way. So far, it's been about 2+ weeks of brainstorming and prototyping with my partner, so we're talking super early stuff.

Quick important foreword please read, I don't want anyone confused! I am exploring designing an RPG as a way to express my art, but I am not a professional game designer and can not promise this will become a full, polished, amazing new RPG at the end of the process. That'd be super sick, but this is primarily just a creative way for me to document exploring my interests of game design and writing alongside my art. I've wanted to do something more long term and dreamed of playing an RPG in my own art world, and no ones gonna try to make it but I.

TLDR: No promises of an actual game. Exploring for fun, documenting to share. Yay!

Now on to the post!

In this first post, I wanted to talk about my design goals, scope, expectations, and what I'm looking forward to so far!

Major Design Goals:

A singular core dice system of d12's being the most used die to determine the success of actions and their outcomes.

Player Characters take on the roles of Aspiring Champions, adventurer-types that wish to make a name for themselves. You are what you do. Your actions, the skills you focus on, and the people you walk with all have an impact on who you become as you grow in power and status.

Asymmetrical combat for GM's and PC's. Player Characters have a much deeper experience

Provide the tools needed for GM's and Players to create custom "home brew" content for their games based on templates so they grounded to the system but unique to the player.

Encourage GM and Player collaboration as much as possible

Classless Characters, characters comprised of Skill Levels and Traits that make up their core identity and capabilities. No EXP, No Levels. Character progression is awarded through play and during the Downtime Phase.

Different modes of play to break up the pacing of a game, examples being Combat, Exploration, Downtime, Social, and Meta.

Quick and lethal combat experience. Fighting directly isn't always the best solution, clever action to shift the odds more in your favor should always be preferred.

Dang Woe, that's pretty ambitious.

Uhh yeah lol. I tried to imagine my dream game for my art and it came out huge. I think it's just gonna be fun to try and explore a lot of different things and learning how to "gamify" things. Digital game dev has just too many barriers for me to explore, but I know my way around a TTRPG! I can't imagine having all these ideas written into mechanics and tested and everything flowing perfectly, but it's gonna be fun to try.

d12 System Yeehaw

The biggest thing I want to cover right away in this post is explaining the d12 action die pool system and how they work. Every Player Character will have a pool of d12s that make up your Effort.

What is Effort? Effort is your "action points," your Stamina, your Energy. You can give something your all, but you can't do it all the time. Effort is broken down into Regen, Stored, and Exhausted, which will be explained later in this post.

Internalize this now before moving on, in the context of rolling dice, 1 is good. 1 is the new slay. 1 is best number. You now love small numbers. When you come to a WyrdRPG post you will be pavloved into remembering 1 is best ever.

Your skills come into play when rolling your Effort. They determine what numbers on the dice count for successes and which do not. Skills lie on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being an absolute beginner and 10 being a renowned legend. Skills are displayed as "Skill #".

ex. Small Blades 8 is a decorated Knight known for their sword and shield mastery. They strike reliably and true.

ex. Small Blades 4 is an amateur or a young mercenary. They are competent and can cause deep wounds, but are far less reliable and strong, and thus require more effort to do the same damage.

Actions in this game have their outcomes determined by how many successes turned up in an effort roll. The max amount of successes you can get is up to how much effort you put in. As a brief example, if you want to swing a sword and have Small Blades 4 as a skill, every die you roll needs to have a 4 or lower to count as a success towards the outcome.

The fun part, 1's are Crits! They count as two successes!

You roll 5 Effort dice. You get 1-3-4-6-10. 1 counts twice, then 3 and 4, for a total of 4 successes. Gonna be a big hit!

12's aren't critical failures. They don't count against you or anything, unless something says otherwise. I'm currently thinking if you use a tool or item that's "broken" or "malfunctioning" then maybe that could apply. Could be cool idk!

Effort Explained More

Last important piece of this heartbeat is Regen, Exert, and Exhausted, the 3 states of Effort. Regen will show up like Regen 3 or Regen 4, meaning you have that number of Effort dice that cannot become Exhausted. You always get these back.

Exert is exhaustible Effort, that if used in addition to your Regen die as all must be used first, will be moved to Exhausted. You cannot use these dice until they are restored. In order to restore Exhausted dice, you have to underspend your Regen dice. For every Regen not used during a round, one exhausted is returned to Exert.

The idea behind this neutral-exert-rest flow is to give more long winded battles a chance to shift and provide risky opportunities to gamble a rest or full-sending an attack with more effort than you probably should, but you really wanna be sure you get this guy.

I appreciate you reading, I'm really curious to hear some of your thoughts as things are moving along. I have a lot of ideas for art and I think regardless of how this goes there's going to be something cool from it!

Okay bye hero!

Yours,

Woe

[throwaway-yandere]

His Ice Fishing Buddy (Yandere!Childe/Reader)

A/n: id get accused of favoritism if i didn't write a childe fic ehe. I already wrote a fic where my current dps-es ayaka and ayato are there, would be weird if I didn't write my previous main dps lmao. sorry my tartar sauce boy. This is part 1/3(?) of the short fic "Soldier, Poet, King" (which is yandere Childe, Thoma, and Diluc respectively). Ps: I'm gonna make some stuff abt Varka's "family" cause we still don't have enough info on him lol

An actually reliable synopsis this time wow: reader vents out frustrations and childe listens w/ added bantering

Gn!reader

Cw: It's a really mild/soft & wholesome short yandere fic. Also, I likely have a different characterization for Tartaglia haha… I'm more used to his character in the voice lines so this might not have that "hey girlie~" vibes to it, I'm sorry (´-﹏-`；). Implied yan!Diluc & yan!Thoma/reader.

Parts:

Soldier (You're here), Poet, King

------------------------------

If you asked (Y/n) (L/n) who Tartaglia was, they would tell you that he's nothing more than a pampered kid who got scolded by the Millileth.

If you asked (Y/n) (L/n) who Ajax was, they would tell you that he's the best fishing buddy they ever had.

In hindsight, you are correct. But that's only because you've never had any other fishing buddies to begin with, so there's no competition for him.

You loved fishing around Dragonspine's west end, close to the road that connects Liyue and Mondstadt but far enough to see both civilizations. You were viewed by the Fishing Association as a lone wolf yet beloved "cousin," the type that only came by on holidays to dish out trinkets to the family. That was your place in the group, and they regarded you with plenty of endearments.

Everyone in the association was ecstatic when they received a half-frozen letter from Tommy, penned by yours truly, which detailed a new fishing companion.

Although, when they read your tales about him, it seems as if this new partner of yours is just as unhinged as you are.

"Have you ever wondered how it would feel like to be a fish?" You asked before you cast your line. 

You kept going while smiling. "It would be nice, wouldn't it? To feel happy when you're drowning. To sink in and just… not be affected by what's up there. Kinda cool. I mean, fish can drown in certain ways, but still..."

He looked at you with a mixture of bemusement and sympathy. Ajax mentally reasoned that having long chats must be a family characteristic for the Imunlaukr Clan.

"Are you alright, comrade?" Ajax asked. He wrapped his scarf around your neck, but the effect was nearly nonexistent. You are used to this cold as much as he is, but considering how he's a full-pledged Snezhnayan man, he's likely to be more resilient. 

Still, it made your lips quirk up for a second. It's the thought that counts, right?

Ajax had always struck you as a kindred spirit. His odd fascination with fighting turned you off at first, but he has a compelling and charismatic presence. Yet, Ajax is far from a playboy. His pickup lines are rarely memorable and they hardly ever stick. Quite frankly, you thought his flirtatious jokes were enough proof that he's likely to die alone.

The man is uber-fixated on becoming stronger in such a nerdy way, which is kind of contradictory. He boasts that he's strong but seems to flail around in the hopes of achieving whatever the hell "world domination" entails.

In short, Ajax is a paper tiger in your eyes. Both in flirting AND combat.

"Never better," you replied sarcastically.

"Have you eaten lunch?"

You pointed at your half-eaten frozen... charcoal discarded in front of your humble tent.

He initially mistook that you were pointing to the letter written by an Inazuman fisherman rather than the hazardous garbage that was strewn about. Ajax's nose scrunched.

With his siblings and acquaintances, he provides them with sugarcoated words when it comes to cooking. It matters not if the scales are flakey and toasted to bitterness similar to ground coffee. But this? This, however...

"I get that it may just be my preferences talking, but it doesn't look very palatable. Don't you realize that food is like weaponry? You need to consume things that are beneficial for the body. Damn. How are you going to keep your promise of 'not dying until Ajax conquers the world' when you live like this?"

"Oh, please stop. You sound like my mother." You grimaced. "Who said you need to be a master chef to fry a fish? You just need to be moderate at arson!"

That last sentence explained a lot.

Ajax laughed boisterously. "C-Comrade, you couldn't even fry the fish right."

"Oi! Shut up. You're scaring the fish away." You grumbled. "The rain just stopped and the fish aren't coming back. So be quiet."

"I'd be afraid too if that sad charcoal is my fate."

"Just shut up."

"Amuse me: were you cooking for yourself or were you just crafting fish baits?–"

"SHUSH."

Tartaglia would have offered you a big supper in Liyue under normal circumstances. During combat, he had fleeting thoughts about pampering you with the dishes and clothing you deserved. He can see you dress up just for him holding his arm as you both enter the establishment so vividly. Tartaglia could hear your laughter fill the air as you mispronounce different Liyue cuisines. 

He felt hollower each time he snapped out of his daydreams and remembered your patched and ragged clothes in this unforgiving climate

However, Ajax desired to uphold this image you had of him. Even if your cheap lifestyle is slightly killing the banker's insides. 

"Hey, why don't you eat something in Mondstadt? My treat."

You gazed up, confused.

"Why?"

"There's no way you haven't missed a good, juicy, meaty steak," Ajax said, his voice similar to a burlesque salesman. "Plus, I'll accompany you on your trip. The road's teeming with hilichurls compared to this dead place. There'll be plenty of fights waiting for me if I accompany you, so why not?" 

As long as no one saw Ajax's mask, no one would shun him for being a Harbinger. He had already sent directives for the Fatui stationed in Mondstadt not to approach him on this little date. 

The only problem is Master Diluc…

Why didn't he exposed that he's a Fatui Harbinger yet?

You rolled your eyes. "Why not? The reason why not is because I'm not going to order steak just to sate your bloodlust. Plus, Good Hunter has a delivery service anyway."

"But you should go home once in a whileeee," Ajax whined.

You yanked back your reel, but there was no sign of a catch.

"Why are you so persistent?" You said in a monotone voice.

It didn't sound like a question. It sounded like a complaint.

Ajax finally realized how crestfallen you were when he stared at you. Your expression had been the same the second he mentioned Mondstadt. He felt a stab of remorse as he struggled to come up with a reply.

Your eyes looked just like his, dead.

"I don't want to be seen at the town square."

Ajax paused and hesitate on whether or not he should ask. He decided that it would be best if he would've ordered Viktor to figure out what happened if you didn't tell him anyway. "Why?"

"I overheard a few things about me." You said. "A few things I didn't even know about myself."

"Oh?"

You both paused, but it was a comfortable silence. As Ajax sat alongside you on the wood, your shoulders began to relax. The ice gradually soaked his gray trousers, but his attention did not divert. Ajax's entire focus was on you, and it warmed your heart to know you have such a wonderful friend.

"Ready when you are, (Y/n)."

You felt some kind of zest. In this scenario, hearing him use your name instead of "comrade" had a distinct effect you can't quite put a finger on.

"Right." You cleared your throat. "So, uh, last week when you weren't here I overheard Marjorie and some blonde rat-tailed guy talk about me a-and umm..."

Your eyes were beginning to moisten. You bared the restricting ache in your chest with a close-eyed grin and proceeded to spill.

"S-She wasn't saying nice things. That's all."

You would have had a better chance of seeing Ajax's evil gaze if you had kept your eyes open the entire time. You might have noticed how strangely silent he was if you had concentrated on him instead of composing yourself. Instead, you were clinging to the last shred of self-control you had to not let the floodgates open.

"Marjorie, the Souvenir Shop owner? Do you know the other man?"

"No." You shook your head weakly. "Never met him, I think. He seemed like a tourist but he looked like a Mondstadter..." 

"I-I mean, not-that-it-bothers-me-of-course. I know I'm a weirdo, but I'm ashamed to think that I never once pieced together that people think I'm a disappointment to the Imunlaukr Clan. I thought everybody in my family was unique, but I didn't realize that I'm underwhelming when it comes to... whatever positive uniqueness people are after. It gets suffocating when I hear those harsh words constantly whenever I come home. Especially since I don't have a vision."  

"That's why I hate visiting little Mond. Everyone there despises me. Some have the gall to hide it to gain my cousin's favor, while some flat out tell me that they want my name erased from the family tree." You continued. 

"So, I guess that's why I'm so glad to have met you and the Fishing Association. You didn't know who my family was and treated me like a friend, not a means to an end." 

Ajax took a deep breath. You laughed nervously a few seconds later.

"Haha, that kinda rhymed. Sorry. Even I admit that that was too much. I'm rambling again. My bad."

To be honest, he also had an ulterior motive when befriending you. Keyword: had. 

He sought you out before to leech out more information about Grandmaster Varka, who seemed to go on month-long expeditions out of nowhere. It made him agitated. He was desperate to learn more about Mondstadt's powerhouse that he combed through all of his contacts until he came across you. The joyful titan's favorite cousin: the isolated fisherman.

Tartaglia saving you from drowning in Wyrmrest Valley was no "stroke of luck" as you put it.

Tartaglia intended to kidnap you for ransom, one that can only be paid by sparring with a worthy opponent.

But after getting to know you, your insecurities, and your passion as a human being for half a year, Ajax couldn't help but want you even if he tried not to.

He could no longer bring himself to cause harm to the one weak link to The Knight of Boreas. If anything, he learned firsthand why Varka was adamant about keeping you safe and hidden. It also made sense why there were rumors that the Uncrowned King of Mondstadt has a crush on you. You are too eccentric– too valuable for the public eye

Perhaps it was for the best that you declined Ajax's offer. He loathes the idea of others looking at you, particularly that redhead with a (reasonable) vendetta against him. You're better off isolated. 

Alone, with him.

He rubbed his thumb at the back of your palm. 

"Comrade..." Ajax cooed. "You're not a disappointment."

 You laughed.

"A part of me already acknowledged that, but thank you. It's impossible to be like Varka. I wish I could be like him every day, but the thing is the only thing I'm good at is whipping this rod and reeling in a big one... and I didn't even get a catch today. Hell, when I tried to train, Diluc told me to just give up and let him do all the protecting-and-what-not. I wish I could just, well, not think about other people like Varka does."

You exhaled deeply. If not Varka, then you hope to become like your pen pal, Fixer, instead. He frequently offered sound advice on how to be more friendly and personable, and he even offered to meet with you after the Sakoku decree was repealed. "Fixer" didn't appear to mind rumors about him, despite the fact that he's a Mondstadter living in a xenophobic country. You can only dream of being that resolved in your worth and confidence.

Maybe you should accept his invitation to meet up. Fixer sounded like he was dying to see you. After all, it's the least you could do for the man who still kept in contact despite his country's prohibition.

"Huh?! Diluc said that?" Ajax suddenly exclaimed. "What kind of man discourages someone from training? People should strive to be formidable warriors if they want to--"

He stopped when he realized you were staring at him with immense judgement.

"Ah, right, wrong timing." He gulped.

"But hey." Ajax squeezed your hand, and you squeezed back. "Comrade, you're being too harsh on yourself and you know it. Hell, it's those scheming bad guys who should be self-critical, not you."

He definitely had his co-workers in mind when he said that.

You snickered. "I'm not a child anymore, Ajax. There's no such thing as bad guys."

"Well," Ajax nervously cleared his throat, undoubtedly uncomfortable. "I mean, there's the Fatui."

"What, like that big doofus Childe?" You teased.

He froze.

Ouch.

'Ajax' laughed sparingly.

"Yeah. Like him. Just tell me if those guys are bothering you, I'll get them knocked off their perch."

You shrugged. "Whatever, sure."

Hmm...

He continued to stare at you with a small smile, long enough for you to see that his eyes are noctilucous jade-like. They were gleaming. Is this how they've always been? You could've sworn his eyes were a dull shade of cobalt blue (though you never told him that since you were afraid he'd challenge you to a sparring match). 

 

"Why are you still smiling? Is there something on my face?" You giggled.

That immediately made Ajax flinch. "H-Ha? Oh, what, no, of course not, wha– pshaw! I just got lost in thought, that's all." 

"Really?" You raised an eyebrow playfully. "Then what is The Greatest and Most Renowned Snezhnayan Fisherman pondering about in the company of his Poor and Estranged Mondstadter Friend, hmm? Mora for your thoughts?"

Ajax looked away.

"It's a bit embarrassing."

"What is?" You said. "C-C'mon, if there is something on my face just say it, man!"

"No, no, nothing like that." Ajax pouted, yet he still refused to face you. "It's just that..."

"I just thought you're drop-dead gorgeous, that's all."

You blushed.

"L-Like, the light of the moon." He continued blabbering. "The perfect lighting for a bloodbath or a crime scene, for added mystery."

The warmth in your face fizzled out as you smacked his arm. Classic Ajax. He can't go on for ten minutes without thinking about fighting. Somehow, that 'drop-DEAD' compliment was fitting coming from him. You're pretty sure he mentioned something about wanting to see his enemies drop dead on several occasions.

"You had me at drop-dead gorgeous but you ruined it with that last part, idiot."

Ajax was dying inside. Sure, he had slain multiple enemies as a 14-year-old but no amount of "maturing" prepared him for the awkward steps of wooing someone.

He's still a little kid deep down who grew up too fast, and sadly, he will always be more comfortable holding a weapon than a person's hand.

Please, have some mercy.

"You asked me how I felt, so I just said what I thought of at the time!"

"Gah! You're hopeless."

You ruffled his ginger hair roughly before his shoulders and spine tensed up. He was unable to look away. Your wide grin is a wholesome sight to see. 

Even though Dragonspine was frigid, he's pretty sure his cheeks were scorching.

"But thank you, friend." You whispered loud enough for him to hear. "You always know just what to say. You're right, I'm too critical."

He puffed humorously, "Of course you are. But anytime, (Y/n)."

"Perhaps you should start self-reflecting as well," you suggested, a little less soft this time. You stood up and gradually increased the distance between you two.

He scowled as he realized where this shift in tone was leading. 

With a mischievous smile, you added. "You know... since you can't seem to land a critical hit with your attacks."

He sneered, oblivious to the fact that he'd already summoned his hydro weapon before you even finished your punchline. 

"HEY!"

It's not his fault he gets so scared fighting when you're around, okay?! You're one of the few people who makes him nervous when fighting. In Ajax's heart, you are already a part of his family, and revealing his real fighting style would be like telling Teucer he wasn't Snezhnaya's greatest toyseller. He doesn't know what he'll do if he makes a mistake that leads you to suspect that he's Tartaglia. He doesn't know what he'll do because you are the one who causes him to falter—

You started sprinting.

"SEE YA LATER, AJAX!"

"What the-- YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE– GET BACK HERE, (Y/N)!!!"

Normally, he would have caught you as you headed for the pines and exacted his wrath in under ten seconds, but he made the mistake of glancing down. Ajax stared at his frozen reflection in the stream.

He grinned.

You're truly starting to restore the brightness in his eyes whenever you're around.

It's only justice that those people will soon deeply regret spreading false rumors about you, right? 

Then, all Tartaglia needs to do now is collect Marjorie and that blonde man's debt...

[yostresswritinggirl]

Scholars’ Chit Chat 1 Submission

Laying down the ‘ground rules’

XXX

Cyno x Reader (platonic at first, romantic in the future)

Lore dump and speculations

XXX

“Hey Cyno, you know how to play chess?”

“Yes? Well sort of, what about it?”

And here he was, the first section of the duo’s hangout, or ‘meeting’ his partner in crime insisted was a game of chess at her dorm room.

The male couldn’t help but sigh as the two of you started your game.

“You never cease to surprise me no matter how much time I spend with you, my dear.”

“Is that so? I’m flattered, I do hope to become somebody who piques your interest and not you see as a chore to accompany with.”

“There is no such thing, I assure you. So, what would you like to talk about?”

“Let’s start with the basics shall we?” You asked as you made your move.

“Ah yes before that,” Cyno added as he remembered something he wanted to ask you. “How did you manage to make that bet with our archon in the first place anyways?”

“The Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing once said this, ‘Gamblers always place their bets on the next dice roll... But the bankers always have the last laugh, and they never touch a single die’, I agree.” You referenced as Cyno made his move, one that you had expected.

“However, that only applies at a fair state, where everyone is at the same starting line. Thus, more extreme measures must be taken in order to let humanity get to the starting line that the gods are on before the race begins.”

“Hence this bet of yours?”

“Correct, and as for your question...” You began after making your move once more. “I just simply flipped the trump card that I had in my hands.”

“Trump card?” He repeated.

“Your turn, Cyno.” You reminded, making the male flinch before focusing on the chess board once more. “Well, I guess as long as I don’t directly say what it is, it’ll be fine...”

“Cyno, everyone has something that they want to hide from others no matter the cost, no?”

“Perhaps some do…” The male pauses once more, after thinking of his next move.

His scarlet eyes widen at realising what your words meant.

“You mean- No, how did you-“

“Including the method of how I got hold of this information is used for this bet in order to keep my lips sealed.” You replied as intended. “As much as it’s crucial , it wasn’t enough to tip the scales of the question I wanted to ask... Thus I exchanged my trump card with the bet instead.”

“But throwing your trump card at the very beginning... I guess this was the only solution you had?”

“You catch on quick, indeed.” You smiled as you continued with the strategy you had in mind.

“All I have to do is to ‘Check’ him, meaning we understand the rules.” You continued as you placed your piece, announcing check while explaining.

Cyno let out a grunt as he realised that he had been toyed in this game of chess from the very beginning.

“As for the ‘Checkmate’,”you began as you knocked over Cyno’s King. “Is something I leave for the rest of humanity to accomplish.”

You then placed both hands on your lap as you smiled brightly at the man in front of you.

“It’s a big step for sure, but I have faith in humanity to succeed.”

Cyno chuckles bitterly at his defeat. “Explaining all that to me while forming a strategy... No wonder the Academia sees you as a force to be reckoned of, my dear...”

“It’s done through what we call ‘simulation’, my friend.”

Cyno sipped the cup of tea that you had ordered from Liyue before pointing out a part he was curious about.

“Though... I was surprised on what he decided to bet on... I mean, he knows the reason behind the alchemist Gold’s fall for sure...”

“Or...” You pondered as you crossed your arms. “He’s trying to show us something through this.”

“Like?”

You chuckled. “Who knows what the gods scheme of anyways?”

XXX

“Once they found out the truth... They would find themselves at a dead-end and perhaps would give up on their foolish actions...”

“But the children of men are stubborn... If survival is what you seek, then stopping here is the best option.”

XXX

OwO

It’s short and I fluffing know it... QAQ

The romantic stuff gonna happen soon, so...

-snowdrop

With this being a series, I'm gonna start putting numbers on it now to help with navigation haha

[bleepblopbloop56]

The Murder In The Dressing Room

Chapter 9

Mostly unedited.

Warnings: blood, major character death, guns.

For an update on the situation read this post

"He's so tiny…" Logan laughed lightly, watching as Patton's little hand wrapped around his pinkie, not even closing all the way around it. He tried to pull in his hand to his mouth before Logan tutted and pushed a pacifier in instead. The news that he now had a real human child still hadn’t fully sunk in yet. He was properly accommodated, of course- the apartment was stuffed with cribs, bottles, pacifiers, toys, baby clothes (including Patton’s current light blue onesie dotted with little white cupcakes- which, as a police officer, Logan could say with authority was illegally cute), and diapers galore- but that didn't make it any less terrifying. 

"He looks like a baby doll," Virgil commented, playing with his toes. Patton squealed and drooled around his pacifier.

"He is rather perfect, don't you think?" Logan giggled. A lot had happened in the last few months. Roman had cheated on him, his best friend had died giving birth and he’d had to fight to adopt her child as soon as possible… but now he was here, holding Patton in his home for the first time. 

"Uh oh, is Detective Grey getting all emotional?" he giggled, tickling Patton lightly. "You hear that? Dadda's getting all emotional over you! Your dadda looovesssss yooooou!" he baby talked, punctuating each sentence with a tickle. Patton kicked his little legs the best he could in fits of giggles.

"He loves you so much Patton! He's gonna be the best dad in the whole world!"

 

“Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up,” Logan chanted as if it would actually do something as he shot down the road. He had barely had enough time to shout out directions and get his gear before racing down the street like his life depended on it. If Logan had his way, he'd make the forty minute drive in ten or crash trying.

“Yellow?” Emile's typical greeting was as cheerful as ever, despite the obvious grogginess in his voice. That was what he got for being an old man who went to bed at 6 o’clock. 

“Patton- where is he?” Logan demanded, taking a turn a little too fast and sliding off the road for a moment before straightening out, mumbling obscenities under his breath all the while. How many traffic laws was he breaking? What would he do if he came across another car on the road? Did it even matter? 

“He's in the living room- Logan, what's wrong?” he started sounding more conscious, a hint of concern creeping into his voice. “Are you okay?”

“Go check on him right now," Logan ordered, “and don't let him leave your sight until I tell you its safe.” Another car swerved around him, nearly hitting him. Distantly, Emile could hear a horn honking and Logan shouting curses in return. 

“Logan what's happening?” He shuffled on a robe, pulling himself up and towards the door. A quick peek into the living room verified that the toddler was sleeping peacefully on the baby bed Emile had managed to stuff in his car while picking Patton up. As if he could sense Emile’s gaze, Patton sputtered a bit before rolling over, the picture of peace. “He's fine, fast asleep, but Logan, are you okay?” 

“Go get him. Now. Don't let him out of your sight until I say so, okay?” There was only hesitant silence from the phone. “Okay?!” 

"Okay," Emile whispered back softly. He picked Patton up with shaking hands, shushing him when he started to wake up. But it was to no avail: despite his best efforts, Patton started to cry on the walk back to Emile’s room. "Logan," he pleaded, "just tell me what's going on."

Hearing the sound of Patton's voice made him slow down significantly. Getting killed in a car crash would only hurt Patton; besides, if Logan was going to die, that son of a bitch would have to kill him himself. Logan wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of doing it without putting in the work. 

"There's been a threat... I can't come get him until we know the suspect is in police custody." Logan faltered, his attempt at a neutral voice failing, and he had to clear his throat before continuing. "They got Remy… my partner. We have a significant lead, but that's all I can say. This is all going to be over soon." He didn't mention that by "lead" he meant "I know who killed them and I'm currently speeding to his house to either kill him or get killed."

"What does that mean?" Emile put down Patton on his bed, rubbing his hand through his hair to get him back to sleep. His brother had always told him everything, and him evading the question like this was enough to make him feel as if the world was ending. Logan didn't lie, and he didn't avoid questions. No matter what you asked him, Logan would respond quickly and honestly, even if that answer was I don't know. 

"Someone’s made a threat on Patton's life," he said quietly, pointedly not vocalizing "and mine as well.'' "I need you to double check your doors and windows for me, make sure everything's secure, and call 911 if you hear anything at all, okay?" 

The other end was silent as Emile struggled to think of a response.

"Please be safe" he settled on. Logan nodded, mumbling an "I will" before hanging up, grip on the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. 

"Roman?!" Logan screamed. Distantly, Logan wondered what his colleagues would think if they saw him like this, wild-eyed and hoarse from shouting and breaking down doors in a house he didn’t have a permit to enter. He wasn't clearing rooms, he didn't have his gun in his hand; he was just ransacking the place in a blind panic. All of it went against protocol, and right now he couldn’t care less. "Roman, where are you?!"

His mind jumped back to the text he'd gotten right after he had found Remy’s body. Logan had been standing in his office- the room he worked in nearly every day, defiled by the blood of one of his closest friends- when his phone chimed. He could only stare dully at the words flashing there. 'I can't do this, I'm going home,' they read, and for a second Logan wondered if this was it- if he was going to lose Roman as quickly as he’d gotten him back.

But that hadn’t been Roman. It couldn't have been. Logan wouldn't believe it. And the only thing worse than the idea of Roman leaving was the idea that Roman had left because he was in trouble- that Ethan had gotten to Roman before he could.

Logan froze at the sound of the front door slamming behind him, the noise cutting through even Logan’s shouts. He had known, at the back of his mind, that he was being unforgivably reckless. He had entered Ethan's territory disregarding the fact that he had proven himself more intelligent and capable than any criminal he faced before. But he had still thought that he would get farther than a few rooms into the house before being caught.

And now he was going to die.

"God, this is so fucking sad," a voice hissed, the telltale noise of a gun cocking behind him far too close for comfort. "You couldn't just stay put, could you? I was JUST about to go find you, and now I have to worry about fucking blood stains on my white carpet…"

Logan whipped around, only to freeze again at the sight of the barrel of a gun in his face, Ethan behind the trigger. Ethan kicked him in the stomach before he could reach for his gun, knocking him to the floor. Logan wheezed, desperately trying to regain his breath and get back up, but Ethan loomed over him, pressing his gun to Logan's forehead. 

Logan braced himself. He'd been a detective for a long time- he knew what was coming next.

But Ethan only made a tutting noise, wagging his finger disapprovingly. "Silly little detective…" he laughed. "If you behave, I might just kill you the easy way! Let's not make this harder than it has to be…" He traced the gun down Logan's face, the cold metal gazing his eye and cheek before landing on his lips. "Well, let's see how well you roll over for me. Why don't you give it a kiss, huh?" The look in his eyes dared Logan to say no. Like he wanted to see how long he could drag out his little game before either he or Logan snapped.

It would be beyond degrading to kiss the gun that would most likely end him, to look his killer in the eyes when he was on his knees. But between the choice of humiliation and survival… Logan puckered his lips and lightly kissed the gun. If he could just keep Ethan distracted until backup arrived everything would be okay, it had to be… 

"Good boy!" The sick feeling in Logan's gut only worsened at Ethan's tone- it was as if he was talking to a dog who had successfully performed a trick rather than a human being he was threatening to murder. "Good boys get treats! You know what your treat is?!" He spoke in high trills, happy hisses filled with poison. Logan noticed Dee had scale tattoos crawling up his arm, starting presumably from underneath his yellow glove. "Your treat is a quick and easy death! Do try to keep it down, we don't want the noise to scare Roman. " Dee traced the gun around his face again before pressing it against his temple. He pushed Logan's head gently with the gun, moving until his cheek pressed against the wall, and Logan could tell instinctively that this time Dee wouldn’t hold back.

"Wait!" Logan shouted, the refrain keep him distracted, keep him distracted running through his head. "I want to have another… treat." Over the blood thundering in his ears, a thought reverberated in his head, slamming like a wave against his brain again and again: This is the lowest moment of my life.

Ethan perked up, happy his little toy was playing his game so easily, but the suspicious glint in his eyes told Logan he didn't have long to talk.

"Let me say goodbye to Roman.." The words ached in his chest. Logan knew he had to play up the pathetic factor to get Ethan to humor him, but they came out too honest and real for him to convince himself it was all for show. Somewhere behind the desperation, it was a legitimate request. 

Ethan hesitated like he was thinking about it, clicking his tongue a few times in thought. "I don't know if you've been that good" he said slowly. "I think I'd rather just kill you!" He smiled, and Logan suddenly thought back to the brief personality profile that had been pulled together on him when Roman was deemed a suspect. Everything about Ethan seemed to point to a perfectly friendly, if slightly closed-off, man with a clean record and plenty of friendly acquaintances. Nothing to suggest someone like this..

Logan was out of options, out of time, and he decided if he could just drag this out, just long enough to keep roman alive.. If he could just llay into what ethan wanted from him...

Put on a show… 

He hunched his shoulders and began to cry.

"Please," he begged, hoping that Ethan would enjoy seeing Logan in pain enough to let the scene last longer. Maybe not long enough for Logan to come out of this alive, but long enough for the cops to arrive, long enough to save Roman… "I know I took him from you-" appealing to him directly- "and I know that you're angry, but please… Just let me see him one last time." 

His shoulders were heaving now, real tears falling to the ground. It wasn't just Roman he was crying about- it was all of them. All of the innocent lives taken simply because they knew the wrong people, caught in a spider web of murders only because they had offered a home to Roman or a helping hand to Logan. He cried for how he had screamed and broke things after finding Virgil in the bedroom until he heard the sirens approaching his apartment. How he'd pulled Roman away from his brother, lying in a pool of red, the one and only time Remus had ever been quiet. How he had said goodbye to Thomas one day and then hadn't visited him again until he had been murdered. How not even an hour before now he had seen his partner, his friend, Remy sitting where he did so often, coffee cold on the desk and glasses broken on the floor. How Patton could be next, and by association Emile.

And Ethan laughed.

"Oh, alright!" he giggled, high-pitched and manic. He pushed Logan's chin up with his gun to look at him. "No need to look so pathetic, little detective! This'll be good for Roman, to see you die." 

Logan moved to stand up, but Ethan leaned down and grabbed his hair, shoving him back down. 

"Nuh-uh-uh!" Ehtan chirped, bringing the gun up to Logan’s forehead again and pressing down. "Be a good little boy and crawl for me?”

Logan froze, his thoughts from before echoing. But he had no way out, and they both knew it. Ethan grinned like a hunter watching their prey walk into a trap. "Come on, let’s go." 

It couldn't have been comfortable for Ethan to pull Logan forward through the whole house, but for the pleasure of humiliating his victim, it was worth it. He dragged Logan all the way to the back of the house until they reached a door so small Logan probably would’ve skipped it while searching for Roman. He flipped open the lock and turned the light on one-handedly before starting down the stairs, allowing Logan to walk while keeping a firm grip on his hair.

"Logan?" Roman's voice was scratchy from crying, but it flooded with disbelief, wonder, hope- until he registered who Logan was with. "Ethan, what are you doing, let him go!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet.

Ethan shoved Logan to his feet, sauntering forward to Roman. "Little Detective Grey here cracked the case, and this is his reward! He wanted to say goodbye to his precious little baby." The fake pout in his voice was somehow more disrespectful than anything he'd done so far. Roman's lip trembled heavily, crying despite having no more tears. 

"But I followed the rules!" he pleaded. "I didn't run or yell or call anyone- Ethan, I'm sorry, I'll be good- I followed the rules, please! Please, don't hurt him-" He clutched onto Ethan's shirt, shaking enough to match his stuttering, but Ethan just shoved him off forcefully.

"This is for your own good, Roman," he sneered. "You have sixty seconds to say goodbye. Play nice, boys," He let go of Logan's hair and let him lurch for Roman, like a dog being let off their leash.

"Fifty-eight! Fifty-seven!" Roman began to sob as the countdown started, loud and He started counting down loudly, Logan hushed the apologies and sobs from Roman, trying to get him to quieten down for long enough to hatch a plan. 

"Roman, listen to me, he'll be watching my hands. I need you to grab my gun and when I say go I need you to use it," he mumbled quickly in his ear. He was trembling himself despite trying to keep things together for Roman. "It's loaded- all you have to do is pull the trigger, okay?"

"Logan-" he sobbed, hand fighting Logan's as he led it down and on top of the gun. 

"It's gonna be okay, Roman… I love you," he said quietly, in the background he could tell they were running out of time by Dee's counting, his numbers getting faster and more gleeful as he counted down. 

"I love you too," Roman said through sobs, gun fully slid out of the holster and now in his hand. 

"Ready?" Logan asked. Five seconds left…

"3…  2… 1," Logan counted down alongside Dee, jumping out of the way of Roman as he pulled up the gun and pointed it towards Ethan's chest. 

It was as if time slowed down to make a frozen tableau- Logan slamming into the hard floor, Roman's shaking hands pulling the trigger, Ethan's expression dropping as he was forced to face the consequences of his actions for the very first time. The noise of the gun was deafening within the small basement, ringing in their ears for what felt like hours after it went off.

One shot, straight to the chest, and Ethan was done, flung backwards by the impact.

Roman dropped the gun after he hit him, flinching at the crash of it hitting the floor and wrapping his arms around himself. 

He looked down at the man in front of him, not dead yet but not alive either. In that state of being where Roman assumes you see your life flash before his eyes. Roman wondered what he saw... 

"I'm sorry..." He cried, jerking away when Logan touched him, hitting the wall and closing his eyes, sobbing as hard as when he had seen remus, shaking like he had been dunked in ice water and left in the arctic, and breathing as if he never would again. 

A door above them bursted open police shouting and flashlights searching every room. "DOWN HERE!" Logan called, flashlights shining in his face when they reached the basement door. Roman raised his hands above his head, now a murderer no better than Ethan.

Taglist

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