#i used my last open one recently wheeze

[adnauseum11]

M.I.A. (John Price x Reader)

John finally arrives home after a successful mission.

1.2 k words

CW: swearing

Feedback welcome!

Thanks for the support over this series - it's hugely appreciated!

This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U. series - Masterlist pinned to my blog.

While not explicitly written for @glitterypirateduck O Captain challenge it does fit the criteria (sorta). It's already got a lot of wonderful submissions, go check it out if you're looking for new Price fics and drabbles.

Masterlist

O Captain challenge

Ao3

The street is lonely and dark when John arrives home again. It’s late, so he’s not surprised to see the lights off in the flat. He parks and sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair. He pauses to take stock for a moment, his forearm bandaged beneath his sleeve, the dull throb almost unnoticeable unless he focuses on it. His innards are unsettled with nerves, more nerves than he felt about returning to the field. The idea that he’s still more used to the dangers of his work, life threatening as they are, than the quirks of his domestic life strikes him as terribly backwards. He debates sleeping on the couch before rejecting the thought and scooping his rucksack from the trunk with a heavy sigh and heading inside.

It's quiet in the gloomy flat, the ticking of the clock on the wall way too loud to John’s recently recalibrated ears. He carefully sets the rucksack off to the side and takes his boots and jacket off as quietly as he can manage, creeping down the hallway to the bedroom. It’s nearly pitch black, and he moves through the space on memory, shucking his clothing. It isn’t until he’s carefully lifting the covers that he realizes he can’t hear breathing.

Reaching cautiously across the cool sheets, John’s heart gives an extra hard kick when his hand doesn’t collide with a warm, sleeping form as expected. It collides with absolutely nothing, swiping through the sheets unimpeded. Panic spikes in his brain and he’s stumbling off the bed to hit the light switch, needing his eyes to confirm what his body has already discovered.   

Light floods the room and reveals the empty side of the bed. For a moment John feels like he can’t breathe, his lungs emptying without the ability to refill. The panic swirling through him feels too large for his body and he can’t stop the surprised wheeze that ekes out, unbidden.

His first instinct is to check for a note, and he vaults over the bed to check the bedside table. When that turns up nothing he heads for the bathroom, his eyes scanning across the countertop and mirror, only to find his own alarmed reflection. John forces himself to take deep breaths as he moves back into the bedroom, opening his drawers and pulling on a fresh shirt and jeans by rote. He’s exhausted, not having slept in a real bed in days, but adrenaline is coursing through him with a sharpness he can’t refute. Sleep will not be had any time soon.

He methodically checks the rest of the apartment, turning lights on and finding the blanket on the couch unfolded and abandoned, half wedged under a cushion. It doesn’t take a genius to see you had slept on the couch at some point before your departure. There’s no sign of a struggle, just an empty wine bottle and one glass with lip prints all over it. John repeats that there’s no signs of a struggle to himself, over and over as he pads back down the hallway to his bedroom, collecting his phone.

He pauses, internally debating whether or not to press the call button that his thumb is hovering over. The weight of the last few days lands on John’s shoulders firmly and he hits ‘call’ with a deep sigh that rattles the lining of his lungs. It almost goes to voicemail before the call connects.

“This had better be good.”

The familiar but groggy voice on the other end grumbles by way of greeting.

“I fucked up, Kate. She’s gone.”

“Wait, wait, what?”

John can hear Kate’s heaved sigh and rustling over the line, a hushed but urgent conversation being had in the background.

“She’s gone. I got home and she’s not here. There’s no sign of a struggle but I just…I can’t sleep. I won’t be able to sleep. I need to know she left by her own power, not dragged out of here. Please Kate. Can you pull CCTV footage, there’s one across the street-”

“Alright, hold on. Hold on, John.”

Kate’s trying to interrupt John’s flow of information. John finally stops talking, the silence on the line unnaturally tense.

“I’m up, I’m logging in, just…give me a second to play catch up.”

John grunts an affirmation, pacing back and forth at the end of the bed, the neatly made linens ramping his anxiety up. Either you never slept in the bed after he left, or you took the time to make the bed in John’s exacting military style. If he was a betting man, he knows which of the two options he would pick, which only serves to heighten his agitation.

“Ok, let’s go over this again. You say she’s gone?”

“She’s not fucking here Kate.”

“Ok, alright, let me look, I’m locating the CCTV across the road from your place now. I’m going to go ahead and guess your conversation did not go well before you left?”

“No. She said I’m making choices for her without involving her in the discussion first.”

“Well, that tracks, to be fair, John. She’s not under your command, remember.”

John’s sigh turns in to a growl, pushing his fingers through his hair while he paces, waiting for more information. Kate’s end is silent for what feels like an eternity as she works through the footage cache of the past few days.

 “Looks like she left the day after you did. A car picked her up in the morning – she took a bag. No note or anything, saying she’s visiting someone?”

“No, I’ve looked. Nothing.”

There’s silence again on the other end of the line for a minute before Kate speaks.

“John, I’m saying this because its Christmastime and you’ve had a hell of a run lately and I can tell this woman means a lot to you. I know what you are about to ask me. Tracking civilians without any cause is very much frowned upon, as you know, and if she didn’t tell you where she was going, she might not be happy to see you if you decide to follow up. Understand? Don’t sabotage yourself. Try to sit tight for a few days. If she’s still not back, get in touch and I’ll see what I can dig up. Right now, respect the distance.”

There’s a warning in Kate’s hushed voice, and John does his level best to reign himself in and heed it.

“Kate- “

“Listen, It’s alright John, she’s moved in now, right? She’ll be back. Figure out how to make it right in the meantime. Try to get some sleep if you can.”

Kate isn’t saying anything John doesn’t already know, but hearing it from her solidifies it somehow.

“Shit. Shit. Yeah. Yeah, alright. Thanks Kate. Sorry.”

“I’ll pass that ‘sorry’ directly on to my wife. At ease, Captain. Nothing more to be done right now, unfortunately. Get some rest.”

Kate is the voice of reason, even though John knows he’s unlikely to sleep and everything in him is screaming at him to find out more. He forces himself to swallow his arguments and listen to his old friend.

“Rog that, Kate. Thanks, again.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch @magsmagic @chickennn-soupp @h0n3y-l3m0n05

[cryptictongues]

Purrfect Medicine

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: G word count: 4.2k summary: You find a stray cat and Joshua doesn't know how to feel. warnings: This is straight up fluff!

Author’s Notes: Remember when I posted a poll a while back and this and that Clive smut won? Well, here is this one LOL sorry for the wait!

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 Link]

The deadlands near the Northern Territories were dreary and dark, something that the realm has become far too familiar with in recent years. Its void of life has created an eerie stain on the map of Valisthea; a tell-tale sign to people that nothing good survives there with its lack of resources. Joshua knew this, yet you had somehow convinced him to set up camp for the night right in the heart of them.

It wasn’t something the both of you had planned for, being that he wanted to get to Prince Dion sooner rather than later. However, you had insisted on stopping for the night when he started to cough non-stop, wheezing more and more with each stretch of travel. He knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, the stubborn being that you are, and he wasn’t in any mood to argue. The last thing he remembers was you setting up the tent around him as he went in and out of consciousness, sleep taking over his brain until he was no longer present mentally. Now, as his mind starts to wake up, his first instinct is to locate your figure. He didn't sense any movement and the sounds of the deadlands were silent. Sitting up quickly, fast enough to make him dizzy, he pulls back the flap of the tent to see everything has been set up for the night, except you were nowhere to be seen. 

Joshua groans. He can’t believe you ran off alone again. After telling you numerous times to not leave his sight, you still don’t listen. While marching to the beat of your own drum is a trait he admires greatly, it drives him absolutely insane at the same time. It is times like these where he wishes his body didn’t fail him so greatly; to have the energy to take care of himself better. It would save him a lot of trouble for himself, but for you especially.

Joshua has known you since the two of you were kids. You were kept in the medicine houses, learning how to heal Rosarian soldiers as the time for war was upon them. He recalls being there a lot as a kid, being as sick as he was. He would always watch you as you watched one of the healers work on him, concentrating on what to do and use for certain ailments. He was charmed the moment he saw you, his chest fluttering in ways he didn’t quite understand at the time. 

Those were the only times he saw you. The two of you hadn’t spoken any words to each other unless needed for assessing, and that was that. It wasn’t until after the events of Phoenix Gate, where he remembers vague images of someone pulling him out of the rumble and loaded onto a carriage, where the girl who made his heart flare worked on him all the way until they went into hiding under the protection of the Undying. Long story short, being the only two children in isolation from the rest of the world made it very easy to become fast companions and the Undying declared you his guardian for his travel due to such a bond. Not that he would have accepted any other answer, for you knew him like the back of your hand. 

Which means he knew that you knew leaving with no warning would upset him, especially out in the deadlands.

Joshua walks out into the open, starting to pace back and forth unknowingly. You have done this before and have turned up just fine. But the what ifs, the what ifs that fill his mind with dread, make him uneasy with the same questions. Does he go searching for you? Does he stay put? What would you do if he left with no sign? It is the same cycle over and over again.

“If you keep pacing like that, this stop will have been for not.”

Joshua whips his head around to see you standing a few feet away, smiling at him like you weren’t just gone for who knows how long. He takes a long, good look at you, examining to make sure nothing is out of place. But you looked just as you did when he passed out; clean and unscathed. 

“I wouldn’t pace if you would just listen to me for once.” He grimaces. 

All you did was smile at him, eyes turning into crescents as you walked towards him. “I apologize, Your Grace. I was out finding some herbs for your well-being, but I am sure you can assume how that went.”

“Well, my darling, this is the deadlands. One can assume that means everything is dead.” He feels his lip wanting to curve into a smirk, but he represses it. He can’t let you keep getting away with this: scaring him and shifting his mood back the minute he sees you. He wants to say more, but the second he starts to move his lips, he hears a chirp come from your satchel. 

You laughed amusingly, from what Joshua can assume is his reaction to the noise. He watches you reach for the latch, opening it slowly. “If everything is dead, care to explain this?”

He watches the satchel move slightly, and then sees two black ears pop up. A moment later, he sees piercing green eyes, and not a moment too soon he sees a pink nose and whiskers. He is at a loss for words as he stares at a black cat. A bloody black cat.

“Isn’t he cute?” You exclaimed, removing the satchel from your body and setting it on the ground, revealing the cats full form. “I found him hurdled in a crevice off the outer cliff. I didn’t see any other cats, so I guess he is all alone.” 

Joshua looks at the cat closely. “How do you know it is a boy?”

You smirked at him. “I can show you if you want.” You go to pick the cat up and immediately it clicks what you were about to do.

“No need!” Joshua rushes out, his face heating up from the embarrassment of his outburst, causing you to burst out laughing. 

“You should see the look on your face!” You laughed, sitting down in the process and letting the cat crawl into your lap. “I was thinking of what we should name him. Lance short for Lancelot? Crow? Maybe something more common like Bernard?”

Joshua’s eyes go wide. “Don’t tell me we are keeping him.”

“Well, why not?” You shrugged. “He could be the best healer in the group, especially if I train him.”

“My love, he is a cat.” Joshua states the obvious. He doesn’t even know the first thing about taking care of a cat. Sure, he knew how to take care of a Chocobo and even a frost wolf, but a cat? That was out of his range. 

“Cats can be wonderful companions, if you let them.” You smiled, slowly cradling the black ball of fur in your arms as you stood up. You walked over to him, holding the cat up by your face to give the most puppiest of eyes. “Come on, Joshua. Can we please take him with us? I’ll take care of him just like I take care of you. Besides, just you wait! I will make him the best healer you’ve ever seen!”

Joshua doesn’t want to give in, but the more he looks at you, the more his willpower crumbles. He hates how easily he folds for you, and as he continues to stare at you and the cat, he knows he has lost this battle. With a long sigh, Joshua nods in defeat. “Fine, but please, for the love of Greagor Herself, don’t run off again by yourself.”

In an instant, he feels your plush lips kiss his cheek. He watches as you buzzed with excitement, holding the cat close to you. “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, Joshua! You will not regret this!” 

He is going to regret this.

-

It had been a week since Crow, the name you decided to give your furry friend, was found. Like you had promised, you’ve been very good at taking care of both him and Joshua. Joshua was impressed with your ability to multitask between two beings. However, what was starting to crawl over him like a green second skin was all the fault of the little feline.

Joshua admits that Crow is very well-behaved. He doesn’t run off anywhere he isn’t supposed to. He is relatively quiet, letting out a meow or a chirp if he is hungry or wants some attention. He doesn’t get upset being carried in the satchel you carry, quite the opposite really. Joshua has noticed that Crow is quite keen on keeping his head perched over the bag to watch the surroundings during travel. There is nothing to complain about, except for one major thing: how much he got your attention. 

The first night, you had been curled up into Joshua’s side, per usual, with Crow settled at your feet. It wasn’t until he woke up the next morning that he noticed your warmth seemed further away and saw you lying flat on your back with Crow curled on top of your chest. Joshua remembers a glimmer of jealousy in his heart but set it aside quickly. It is just one night. This will not be common practice.

Until it did. It always started the same and ended the same. Joshua started to loathe the damn cat, and he felt silly for it. “It’s a bloody cat!” He thought. He should not feel such negative feelings towards it, but every time he pushes the jealousy out, it rolls back ten-fold.

Joshua is walking side by side with you, the two of you trailing the Crystal Road, getting closer to where the two of you need to be. Joshua is deep in thought, negative swirls of green dancing around his head, when he feels a small bump against his leg. He ignores it, thinking he got too close to your bag, when he feels it again.

He looks down to see Crow looking up at him, eyes wide and mouth curled. Joshua watches him bump his head against his leg, only to look back up at him with his big green eyes. 

Joshua is stumped. Is he hungry? Can he feel the negative energy enclosing in his brain? Can cats do that? 

“Um… dearest…” Joshua says softly, not wanting to disturb the peaceful walk. 

“Hmm?”

“Crow wants something.”

Joshua and you stop in the middle of the road, and you spread the bag apart. “What’s up, little guy?” 

You scratched his head, and Crow started to purr. You chuckled, looking at Joshua who was standing there feeling lost. 

“You are so knowledgeable, yet so clueless.” You smirked. “He wants attention. He wants you to pet him.”

“Me?” Joshua asks, seriously questioning how that could be true. Crow hadn’t been craving his attention; it had been yours.

“He wants you to scratch his head. He loooooves that.” You drawled out. “Go on. Just like this.”

You scratched his head around his ears, demonstrating to Joshua how to proceed. He hesitantly lets his fingers run across the back of Crow’s head, just petting him at first to get a feel for how he will react. Crow pushes his head into Joshua’s fingers, which encourages him to start moving his fingers back and forth quickly. 

Joshua couldn’t believe his luck. Crow was purring at the attention he was getting, and it made Joshua grow bolder. He starts to scratch down under Crow’s neck, making him lift his neck further for more room. In a way, this felt very therapeutic to him. It’s as if the twangs of jealousy that filled his head left within seconds, putting a smile on his face.

He hears a small chuckle, and he looks up to see you smiling behind your hand. He perks up, still scratching Crow in the process. “What’s so funny?”

“It just seems like the sun has decided to come back out.” You dropped your hand, letting it reach for his free one. “You seemed rather gloomy as of late. I’m just happy to see you smile genuinely."

“I apologize,” Joshua followed up with. “I have so much on my mind.” It wasn’t a lie, of course. He did have a lot on his mind, but he doesn’t have the courage to admit that the main thing getting to him was jealousy due to a damn cat.

“I know, but that’s why you have me. You know I’m always here for you.” You swayed, pulling him in a little closer.

Joshua hums and brings his hand to your face. With a gentle grasp, he pulls you in for a soft kiss, reminding himself that you are indeed here for him. He knows you wouldn’t put yourself in such a dangerous position if you didn’t feel strongly for him. 

The kiss is interrupted by another head bump, causing Joshua to pull away. He hears you laugh and next thing he knows the satchel strap is over his shoulder, the cat in the bag right by his right leg. 

“I’ll let you carry him for a while. He seems to want your affection.” You grin. He laughs softly and takes your right hand to press on the long, winding road with his right hand in the cat bag.

-

Joshua and you made camp, and for once he thought it best to stop for the night. It wouldn’t be long before the two, well three of you, reach the Crystal Belt, so some time to gather himself in preparation for his meeting with Dion sounded best. 

Joshua was settling into the tent, waiting for you to come join him. He had started to help clean for an early start tomorrow, but you insisted he go ahead. While he usually would insist right back to keep his gentleman roots intact, he could feel the long day weighing on his eyelids and chose to let your stubbornness flourish for the night. 

His eyes were starting to flutter shut, until he heard the soft patter of paws near him. He opens his eyes to see Crow staring at him, or at least what he can see of him. His black coat completely camouflages him into the shadows of the night, but his green eyes glimmer in the dark.

Joshua sits up on his elbows, hesitant to move. He watches Crow observe him, the cat's head tilting by the way the eyes become diagonal from one another. Petting Crow in a bag, where he is secure, is one thing. To engage with him where he can make any move he wishes is another. While Crow has been friendly, it has been when you were around. This is the first time he has been alone with the feline, and he doesn’t know how to act. 

Crow had gotten noticeably closer and was now at the crevice of Joshua’s left arm. He stiffed when he felt Crow sniffing him, goosebumps rolling over his body in anticipation. Great Greagor, he is going to jump me. However, not only did that not happen, but the next thing Joshua sees is Crow let out a yawn, stretching his whole body in the process, before falling on his side with his head laying in between Joshua’s elbow. Small breaths can be heard as Crow starts to relax further, causing Joshua to relax with him. He lays back down, getting more on his side so he is in a comfortable position that allows room for Crow to stay undisturbed from his slumber. Carefully, he pulls Crow closer to him, making him snuggle more into his arm. 

“This isn’t so bad.” Joshua thinks, a small smile forming on his lips. His mom never allowed Torgal to sleep with him as a child, her excuse being the wolf dander would deplete his immune system more than it already was. To have an animal so close to him is comforting. It makes him feel oddly safe, even when he feels safe in your company. 

He hears the tent flaps open, and the moonlight shines into the tent. He sees your expression as you look at him and Crow, and his heart melts at how your eyes lit up. He watches you tie the flap so it is slightly ajar, and then watches you crawl in. You sit criss-crossed beside him, very obviously admiring the scene occurring. 

“Well, isn’t this a sweet surprise?” You said smugly, arms crossed.

“Yeah,” Joshua lightly laughs. “I guess I can understand why you would want to sleep with him and not me.”

“Awe, was My Lord jealous of the little pussy cat?” You pouted jokingly, and all Joshua can do is groan. He knows it is silly, but he can’t deny it.

“I won’t deny my feelings, though rather immature.” He huffs lightly, looking down at the sleeping ball of fur. He moves his hand to stroke the black fur of Crow’s side, his mood lighting up even further. “This is strangely healing, however. I don’t blame you.”

“Well, you can now have a turn with him. He is a great sleepmate.” You moved to set up a side for yourself, but Joshua carefully reached for your arm causing you to turn to him quizzically. 

“I have a proposition, being that you join us instead of sleeping alone tonight.”

The warmth in your eyes at his statement makes his heart leap, knowing your answer before it slips your lips. He watches you undress to the undergarments that lie beneath your outer clothes, and lifts the covers when you go to lie beside him. He intertwined his legs with yours, both of your bodies getting as close as possible without crushing Crow. His forehead touches yours, inhaling with an ease he hadn’t felt in a while.

“What is it?” You asked, concern in your tone.

“Nothing,” Joshua mumbles, his left arm cradling Crow to his chest and his right hand settling on your waist. “This is just nice.”

You both fall asleep to the soft hum of Crow’s breathing.

-

Joshua’s perception of Crow has changed gradually as you all traveled. When he feels his mood sour, it’s like Crow knows and works to get his attention, and suddenly Joshua feels 100 times better. Crow was therapeutic, in a way, so traveling with him wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. If he was being honest with himself, he felt rather happy when Crow begged for his attention. 

There had been a change of plans in the journey to Prince Dion’s camp. On the belt of the Crystal Road, Joshua had started to feel worse for wear. His coughing had grown rougher and more painful, more blood coming out of his lungs. His chest wound was growing bigger by the day. He knows he is running out of time, so he had insisted that the journey must continue. Once again, however, you did not listen. Which is why he is now laying in a bed at the Dalimil Inn. 

“We really need to get a move on, dearest. We need to get to Dion.” He tries to sound healthy, but even he isn’t dumb enough to think he sounds convincing. He starts to move, wanting to sit up, before another round of coughing rushes out of his lungs.

“Yeah, and you struggling to stay up right is going to help us get there faster.” You snarked, still light hearted nonetheless.

Joshua wishes to retort, but he doesn’t have it in him. He falls back with a groan, his brain pounding and chest tight. He knew keeping Ultima locked away would be hard, but the agony that comes with it is more than he could have realized. Being naturally ill doesn’t provide any immunity to pain, and Joshua was learning the hard way.

You come into his vision, and like the angel you were, you pull the covers over him. Tucking him in like you were his baby, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, which Joshua relished in. He won’t admit it to you, but he has always loved being taken care of. 

“I’m going to run out to the market and find some minerals and herbs for your medicine. I’ll also get you some food as you should eat something.” You twirled a piece of his hair, only to drop it to brush your fingertips against the baby hairs that meet his forehead. “Crow will be here to keep watch.”

Joshua turns his head slightly to see Crow sleeping in the desk chair beside the bed, curled up into the seat. He knew he had to be tired, and a weird sense of envy seeped into Joshua’s bones. He wishes he could sleep with such ease. 

Fingertips graze his chin, rotating it until he meets your eyes again. The way you are looking at him makes his chest feel lighter, even with the chaos and muck that stirs within. Your skin on his soothes him, and he can’t help but to lean into your touch. His eyes flutter shut, and he hears you hum softly. “Try to get some rest. I shall return to you soon.” 

Light pressure sets against his lips, lasting for a few seconds, before releasing. He listens to your steps, and continues to listen after the door shuts. The faintness of your steps disappear, but Joshua still hears them in his mind. The soft pitter-patter of your light feet tap away, and slowly pulls him into a deep sleep.

-

Even in the few moments before Joshua’s slumber ends, he can sense a difference within himself. He feels as if his chest is heavier than before, but not as it was before. The angry flourishes of pain have settled to a dull ache, something he isn’t accustomed to these days. There is a peacefulness that has taken homage, and it is the most calm he has felt in the last few days. The heaviness on his chest is comforting. It felt like the times he would wake up with your head on his chest, with deep breathing that vibrated his being. 

In the early stages of being awake, he reaches for his chest expecting to feel your hair against his skin. His fingers brush against what he believes to be hair, until his brain reminds him that it isn’t coarse and surely doesn’t rise and fall. His eyes snap open, sleepy delirium resolved as he comes face to face with black fur. The light in the room had dimmed slightly, meaning it had been approximately two hours since his slumber. Sometime during the duration, Crow had taken it upon himself to rest on Joshua’s chest.

Crow was purring insistently loud, his eyes crescented as he rests with his body curled. Joshua couldn’t explain it, but the vibrations soothed the violent thumping that would make him stumble with each step. His whole body felt as if he had found an oasis; like he had discovered something that quenched his relief. Or more so, Crow had discovered how to help him. 

Joshua scratched Crow’s head, getting behind the ears, making the black feline purr louder and lean into his hand. He could feel a lump in his throat, for somehow, a cat had come to his aid. A cat took one look at him and knew how to help him. Who knew such a remedy would treat him so diligently and work so well. He presumes Greagor knew what She was doing when you had come across the ball of fur; a healer with a healer cat. 

Joshua was so immersed with Crow’s abilities, that the sound of the door opening and closing hadn’t caught his attention. It isn’t until he feels movement at the end of the bed that his head shoots up to see you with the biggest grin on your face.

“What did I tell you?”

“Regarding?” Joshua asks, confused as to why you are looking at him with such glee.

“I told you I’d make him a great healer!” You cheered enthusiastically. “Look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look as comfortable as you do right now.”

“You’ve trained him well.” He continues to pet Crow, moving his fingers down to scratch under his neck. “However, I do believe you said he’d be the best healer I’d ever seen. I’ll admit I stand corrected, for he may even be a better healer than you.” He jests, knowing it’ll rile you up.

You gawked at him, “If he wasn’t lying on your chest right now, I’d make you take that back.”

“You can remove him if you’d like. I’d like to see what you’d do.” He draws out lewdly, loving how you are reacting to his quips. 

“Whatever, you perv.” You laughed, moving to crawl beside him. You had gently wrapped an arm across him, right behind where Crow lays. Your head is now beside his and he can’t help himself as he leans in to kiss you. The two of you stay like that for a while, enjoying the tranquility of the moment before the three of you prepare to experience the rough world out there. 

Him, his lady, and their cat.

[dotster001]

None of Us are Real; a Twisted Earth Story

Summary: You wake up in Twisted Wonderland, and instantly get kidnapped by the tweels.

Confused? Check out the Twisted Earth Masterlist!

You’d woken up in a building you didn’t recognize. Although… the longer you just laid there, the more you thought that you should recognize it. 

Well, it didn’t matter. Because, suddenly, a bag was thrown over your head, and you were being carried somewhere.

…

Azul was sitting in the VIP room, playing Twisted Earth. He had a client he was supposed to meet, but they had canceled so he had some free time.

He had locked the door, sat in his chair, placed the phone under his desk, and grinned when you greeted him on his home screen. He loved when you gave the log in bonus. It felt like you were giving him a present.

He should’ve known the locked door wouldn’t keep the twins out.

The door slammed open and he threw his phone on the floor under the table, before attempting to compose himself.

Floyd was carrying a squirming bundle of something, while Jade looked smugger than usual. Floyd plopped the bundle into the seat, and held it in place.

“Who’s that? A contract breacher?” Azul asked tiredly.

“Something even better,” Jade said with a wicked smile.

....

The bag was ripped off your head, and you found yourself in another room you knew you should recognize. You looked around, then down at the arms holding you in place, then up again at the man attached to them, who was grinning at you like a fool. You noticed the two other men, and made eye contact with the man across the desk (who was looking gobsmacked, like he’d seen a long lost relative), and that’s when it hit you. The reason everything looked oddly familiar.

"Oh my god, you’re from my video game! I didn’t recognize you at first because you’re not 2D. My brain did a good job rendering this dream,” You said with a laugh, realizing you were dreaming about Twisted Wonderland. Which wasn’t too hard to believe considering the amount of Octotrio fanfiction you’d been reading recently.

Dream Azul’s face turned into a scowl. “My dear, this is no dream. And I think you will find that you’re from MY video game.”

“Ha, I think not,” You stood up and leaned across the desk, cupping his face with your hands and sighing. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

His face turned a bright red, and his eyes flicked to the men, who you now knew were the Tweels. You let go of his cheeks, gently caressing his hair.

“It's as soft as I always imagined it'd be,” you sighed happily.

Floyd burst into laughter behind you, and you were quickly scooped into his bone crushing embrace.

“It's cute that you think you're the real one,” he snickered, inhaling deeply against your neck, “because I've always wanted to do this.” He nibbled your neck, and sighed happily, practically singing, “Shrimpy smells so good.”

“Now, now Floyd. You have to share,” Jade said lightly, before not so gently wrestling you out of his grasp. He wrapped around you tightly, resting his head on your shoulder. Then you felt sharp pain against your neck.

Huh. You'd never taken Jade for a biter. But the pain proved you were awake, and not dreaming about Twisted Wonderland. Which was slightly more concerning.

“Oh my god! I got isekaid into my video game!”

“Again, we are not the video game here,” Azul rolled his eyes.

“I can prove you wrong!”

“And I can prove you wrong.”

Both you and Azul pulled up your phones. You quickly clicked the Twisted Wonderland app, tapping past your daily log in, until you were greeted with Dorm Uniform Azul.

You showed him the screen, smugly, only to catch your breath as you saw his phone screen. His screen sported a very similar design, the main difference being that instead of him animated onto a home screen, it was you in that party outfit you wore last month.

“Shit-” you breathed out.

“Oh-” he wheezed. 

“What? What's on their phone?” Floyd asked, yanking your phone from your hands. Both of the twins looked at it, turning a shade of gray.

“Oh.”

“So,” Jade released a forced laugh. “There is an easy way to solve this issue.”

You looked over at him tiredly, waiting to hear his brilliant idea.

“Three of us think you are not real, and only one of you thinks we are not real.”

“Ha! So Shrimpy's outnumbered!”

“Which means that, unfortunately, you lose,” Azul hummed with fake sympathy. “That said, I can work out a room and board contract for you.”

Before you could protest, a golden contract was shoved into your hands as three mafia wannabes snickered maliciously.

....

Tag list- @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll @avensuersa @savanaclaw1996

[enderpearlll]

Yandere!Bob Velseb - My Favourite Employee. PT 4.

Holy fuck I just finished a request, this part and the next one of My Favourite Employee. (And a possible part 6 but ahhh) Hope you all enjoy.

Gender-Neutral Reader, but pet names such as sweet pea and darling are used.

Taglist: @1-800-moondust

TW/CW: Yandere content, stalking, cannibalism, implied murder, etc…

• You were distraught, eyes wide open as you watched the news report. "There has been an alarming increase in disappearances these past few days, and it is causing an uproar in the community. The most recent incident was a 21 year old who had worked at a local restaurant..." You couldn't process anything coming out of the reporters mouth, unable to focus on anything around you.

• You shook yourself out of it and grabbed the remote, turning up the volume as you leaned closer towards the TV. " We had interviewed the manager of the establishment, and he was presumed to be the last person to see them in person. They had left around 8pm last night, apparently in distress. Mr. Velseb, who is very well known around town, had said that that was the last time he had seen them."

• The news reporter had finally concluded the report, and began to recap on the many other missing people. You grasped at your remote, hands trembling uncontrollably. You knew that you should've called the police, this was all your fault— A sudden knock at the door interrupted you, and as you stood up with shaky knees the door had already opened. Bob stood in the doorway, a look of urgency in his eyes. "I came as soon as I could, sweet pea!"

• You flinched at his sudden intrusion, before confusion washed over you. How did he get into your house, you locked the door didn't you—? But Bob had hugged you as tight as he could, a small wheeze coming from you as he let you go after a minute or two. "I know you two were close at work, and I swear sweet pea, I would've did anything to make sure they were okay, since I know they were your friend—" Bob rambled, a nervous look in his eye.

• Oh. Oh yeah. Your coworker was missing. You felt sorrow wash over you in waves as you slammed your face into Bob's chest and let out a nerve wracking sob. Why could you never catch a break? The overwhelming feeling of guilt took over as Bob took you over to the couch, uttering words of saccharine-sweet comfort. "It's all my fault! I should've called the police, I don't even know what they were talking about and—!" Bob shushed you, brushing strands of hair out of your watery eyes.

• "It ain't your fault at all darlin'. If anything, it's far from it. Now come on, I'll get ya somethin' to drink." He grinned, wiping tears from your eyes. Bob tried to shuffle towards the kitchen, but you quickly grasped at his sleeve and pulled him towards you. "W—What if I'm next?" You whispered, tears dribbling down your cheeks. Bob's face had dropped, pure fear glowing in his eyes.

• "No, no, no, no, no! Sweet pea, don't even think that way!" Bob said, a slight shake in his voice. He held you close again, fingers burrowing in the fabric of your shirt. "I promise, nothin' will ever happen to ya, darlin'. Ever. Not on my watch." Bob said firmly, gritting his teeth as he grinned wide.

• Bob stayed with you for the whole day, the restaurant closed as many people were out on searches. You had managed to convince Bob to let you out of the protective cocoon he made with your blankets and pillows to join in the search. You met up with a crowd, and began to help out with them. People searched high and low, especially family members of the victims. You couldn't bear to look at your coworkers parents in the eyes as they thanked you and Bob for coming out to help. But there was nothing.

• Bob was oddly insistent on staying away from the street that the restaurant was on, and kept you close by holding your hand or wrapping an arm around your shoulders. A lot of people stopped you both to talk, mostly about how you two were amazing coworkers to help in the search for your coworkers. You didn't deserve any of the praise. But you kept a smile on your face as you both walked around until sundown.

• Bob wanted the restaurant to open tomorrow, so he got you to go home despite your desperate efforts to stay behind and help. "Bob, please! We gotta help, or you can just go and I'll just—!" "Nope. You're coming with me, sweet pea. I ain't letting you walk around alone no more, it ain't safe for ya!" "I live alone—!" But Bob's consistent nagging got to you eventually. So as you both walked home, the thought of what your coworker had said before they went missing haunted you.

• The office... What did that mean? You forgot to wave to Bob as you practically ran inside, tearing off your jacket and throwing yourself on the couch, eager to watch the news. You prayed that there would be something about the disappearances, even a smidge of good news would make you feel better. But there was nothing yet. You waited and waited for even a mention of them, but you fell asleep well into the middle of the night waiting for nothing.

• You woke up at the asscrack of dawn to a loud shutter noise, like a camera going off. You could barely open your eyes, groaning in annoyance as you wiped away the sleep in your eyes. You heard a thudding noise as someone ran out of your house, but you were too tired to notice. The news channel was still on, but it was just static as you pat around the couch for the remote. What a weird dream... You turned off the TV and rolled over, falling back asleep.

• When you woke up again around lunch hour, you glanced at the clock hanging on your wall. You were several hours late. Oh shit. You rolled off the couch and scrambled towards your room, tearing off your clothes from yesterday and putting on your uniform as quick as you could. The phone rang, so while you were in the middle of putting on your shirt you gunned it to the living room, head caught in the sleeve.

• You picked up the phone, out of breath and panting heavily. "H—Hello?" "Oh, hey sweet pea..." It was Bob. He sounded like he just got up too, his usual booming voice muted to a low grumble. "Just got up, restaurant'll be open in... An hour." "Oh, okay? You good, Bob?" "O—Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, I'm good darlin'... See ya later, love ya..." He trailed off at the end, so you barely heard him say goodbye. You then realized that you put your shirt on backwards. It was going to be a long day.

• When you got to work later, you both collectively looked like shit. Sleep was still evident in your eyes as you both waited for the coffee to brew, (it was supposed to be for the customers but anywho,) with Bob yawning. It doesn't look like it'll be too busy today. And you both silently hoped it wouldn't be.

• And to your luck, it wasn't busy at all. You and your other coworker were on edge all day, having nothing to distract you both from the current situation at hand. Usually you all were tied together by your favourite coworker but... they're gone, and now it's quiet. There was barely any customers, most people staying inside or joining in the search parties. Closing came horribly fast, the restaurant dark as you and Bob were left behind to close.

• You waved goodbye to your other coworker, a deep sigh leaving you as you sat at the counter. You pressed your face into the counter, sitting there in silence. Bob hadn't come out of the kitchen all day, which was unusual considering he always took a chance to see you whenever he could. Your stomach gargled loudly, in need of any form of sustenance. You haven't had an appetite since yesterday, and you haven't touched Bob's cooking that he made for you yesterday.

• You were ready to start cleaning on an empty stomach when you smelt a heavenly scent coming from the kitchen. You peeked at the kitchen doors, quirking an eyebrow. Why was Bob cooking so late You crept towards the kitchen, peering into the door. He was humming a catchy tune, flipping over a burger with a smile. You sat there mesmerized by his cooking skills, which never failed to impress you. Bob had plated the burger, adding all of your favourite condiments and what not.

• You glanced at his face and woah, he was flushed a bright red. He was even drooling. Jeez, was Bob that hungry? Hell, even his apron was stained with blood. Must've been in the back preparing meat. When he started walking towards you, you panicked and flung yourself towards the counter and nearly toppled over trying to sit back down. Bob saw you and smiled brightly, his hands shaking as you awkwardly smiled back. He placed down the plate in front of you and plopped on the seat across from you, where the customers would usually sit.

• Bob's breathing was erratic, his eyes wide open as he pushed the plate towards you. "I made ya somethin' special, sweet pea. My own personal recipe, go on, try it!" You were very weirded out by both Bob and the burger. But you swallowed your fear and picked up the burger, giving it a cautionary sniff. "Now, this is how I like my own burgers personally. I hope you love it as much as I do, darlin'." Bob leaned on the counter, staring at you with hearts in his eyes.

• You caved into his awaiting smile and the mouthwatering scent of the burger and took a great bite, the meat juicy and perfectly tender in your mouth. Dear god, it was amazing! It didn't taste like any ordinary burger, and it was way better than any others that you've had! You swallowed the whole bite, jaw dropping with awe. "This is amazing Bob!" You scarfed down the entire thing, Bob watching you with drool dribbling down his chin. He quivered uncontrollably, eyes twitching as you wiped your hands.

• "Oh man, that was great." You said, a big smile on your face. "What did you put in it?" You asked out of curiosity, watching as Bob dug in his pockets. "Just you wait darlin', you'll be surprised!" Bob put down a  single piece of white rectangular plastic, a name engraved in black on the front. The metal pin was bent and twisted, obviously well used. It was a name tag.

And it had your coworkers name on it.

( ah we’re almost done, idk if part 5 will be the end though. thank you so much for all of the love on my work, you all are amazing!)

[allastoredeer]

~Lucifer blanches. He looks around, as if trying to find a sense of Alastor’s words somewhere in the trash-heap he calls a room, before rounding back to him, lips pulling up in disgust. “Are you asking me out?”

“Ahaha!” Alastor laughs, slapping him so hard on the back it nearly takes Lucifer off his feet. “Oh, Heavens no. I’m just proposing we let Hell continue thinking that you and I are,” he waves his hand, searching for the word, “in cahoots. In that way.”~

This is golden comedy right here. Honestly every time I read ur fic I always start wheezing so hard I can’t breathe, u are an amazing writer, hope u know that. When I saw ur last update on the ‘damage control’ chapter i was so excited i devoured it so fast help

Alastor saying he wants to be in ‘cahoots’ with Lucifer it’s so funny to me cause no one use that term anymore, and Lucifer is just downright dumbfounded that they are even having the conversation. I can imagine the shadow rolling his eyes at them, we need more sassy shadow moments, he is so underrated. 😭😭

I love that Lucifer is trying to respect Al boundaries, especially after the ‘incident’ , and doesn’t pry to much on his scars, but now I am curious about what did Al meant. Does he not remember who did that to him? 🥺

Also I am curious about what they gonna tell to the others about their new found relationship. I don’t think Lucifer would want to lie to Charlie, but I also think that it would be too risky to make the whole crew knew they are acting, someone might slip. And it’s not like Al is gonna make it easy for Lucy anyway. If they want to be credible, less ppl knowing it’s best course of action for me.

Last thing~ I really wanted to thank you, cause ur fic really brings me a lot of joy since I recently only been able to find happiness in small things like these , and I I can’t wait to read more🌈

Hehehe, Alastor purposefully refusing to go into depth about their "sexual relationship," and even side-stepping outright calling it a relationship, is what's going to make it all more entertaining when he actually has to commit to the bit. Cuz you see, they're not fucking. They're "in cahoots."

It's different.

(I love Alastor's Shadow being sassy. If it's attached to Alastor, it has to be. I take no critiques.)

😈 Alastor and his scars is something I'm very excited to get into it. I've been thinking about them for a while, and while it may take a bit to actually get the answer, I'm very eager to get there when we do.

The way I see it, Alastor doesn't want to tell the others (as they already know their not actually dating--as he made VERY clear last time), but Lucifer isn't going to be okay with lying to Charlie. Out of the group, Alastor knows he can trust Husk and Niffty to keep it a secret. Maybe Angel Dust too. But he's most worried about Charlie and Vaggie.

Vaggie isn't a good liar, and Charlie's such an open, bright, heart-on-her-sleeves person, he doesn't trust her to keep up the ruse without letting something slip--most likely by accident.

But Lucifer is stubborn. He doesn't want to lie to Charlie, and if he tells Charlie, Charlie is going to tell Vaggie. If Vaggie knows, well, we already know she has a hard time lying on the spot, so if the others see Alastor and Lucifer suddenly "in cahoots," and ask about it, she's not going to be able to come up with a plausible excuse on the fly.

This is all to say, the next installment is going to be full of silly Hazbin Crew hijinks, where Alastor is forcefully enrolled into Chaggies Dating 101 Crash Course, and he is definitely not setting the grading curve. (And maybe we'll even get a bit of HuskerDust thrown in there, who knows. Certainly not me).

And it warms me so much to know that my fic can bring you joy in a time that such things are scarce 🥺 I can't wait to share more of the story with you!

[kowarth]

Osgood's Nightlight: a ramble of thoughts on hopeful symbolism in Cosmosgate

Last night I completed my latest reread of Technically Write's "My Cosmos is Yours" through to Chapter 41. As always, I highly recommend it even though I have biased myself by falling in love with thier carefully curated lyrical prose. You can thank me later and avoid spoilers by doing that now.

All done? Wasn't that a fantastic 40+ hours?

Anyways, right there, in amongst everything else happening in c41 is the introduction of Osgood's TARDIS Nightlight. It bathes the entire midnight of the chapter in streaks of blue grading with convenient yellow highlights which the cinematographer in my head adored.

It's a lovely little touch at Osgood's fangirl credentials that she has one.

But UNIT exists in a universe where the Doctor is a grey area of conspiracy theory/folk hero/folk horror / startling top secret fact. Police boxes existed, as they did in the real world, but even etsy might struggle to find a market for led street furniture ornaments.

So, it's safe to infer that Osgood, a genius across multiple fields who at this point still idolises the Doctor (even if the one she has met was a bit of a loon) made that herself.

These stories are supposed to take place before "Day of the Doctor" which introduced the brunette genius to her adoring public. So why make a TARDIS Nightlight?

Nightlights exist to make one feel safe in the dark. Osgood hasn't really shown a lot of issues with the dark up to this point but an awful lot has happened to her in recent weeks.

When Kate, Sarah and the Dr visit in C14 no mention is made of the device. But it is daytime and unlikely to be lit.

Unless it doesn't exist yet.

And if it is crafted by Osgood, why would she choose to do so after c14?

From here on, the action elements ramp up as the events of 3 boxsets of audio impact on our hero's. Critically, all four major trauma epsodes have issues of light.

First, after being blown up on a submarine, Osgood is assaulted by the Silurians fear device causing her to hide amongst corpses while hallucinating a cave. Her escape from those events involve swimming through a natural cave structure while not quite herself.

Secondly, Peru. The sunglasses she used in her disguise have mostly been represented so far in the story as a barrier to Kate communicating with her. But it places her in the dark, and shortly thereafter we learn she has been suffering from recurring nightmares about those events.

It is here, in the frozen weeks where she is avoiding Kate, that I suggest she has constructed her Nightlight.

Why not buy one though? In 2012 even a good led Nightlight would have been around £5.

I surmise that it goes back to disguise. That's what the Police Box is, after all. A disguise that's gone a bit wonky. A comfort in the dark. This is still the osgood that cowers on the floor of the undergallery chanting 'The Doctor will save me.' to herself. Right up until she finds the ability to save not only herself but Kate in short order.

It also ties into the essence of the DOTD script. That the TARDIS is an avatar of safety and hope.

"You know that sound the tardis makes?" "Yes?"

"That wheezing groaning sound brings hope, wherever it goes."

Thirdly, her concussion at the hands of fake Sontarans immediately opens with a light sensitivity issue. For her own safety she needs to stay in the dark, instantly forming a bond between the dark and the pain of not only the initial injury but the ensuing memory loss which is still being felt in this very chapters flashback!

Finally, like the sunglasses, the VR headsets used to partially convert her to the cyberiad's way of thinking, place her as much in the dark as the sunglasses had. Escaping the headset Osgood crawls under a desk, out of the light.

When C40 opens and we catch up to Osgood at home her safe space is lit by one lamp on the floor throughout the chapter but she is still hiding in a dark she would otherwise actively avoid. Is this a self imposed punishment?

Kate asking to stay evokes relief and yet...

The Nightlight goes on.

It's not just for Osgood, she tells Kate that the option to turn it off is hers.

It's symbolism therefore, returns to one of Hope.

Kate Stewart has the power, in that instant, to turn out that hope.

Without realising it, perhaps, she chooses to leave that light on. To watch her beloved Osgood sleep.

Hope, against the darkness.

And thats why I love this work so passionately. Every syllable is deftly handpicked for the most eloquent of reasons.

It's also why the gap between chapters, thanks to existence of life itself, is trivial.

Great art takes time.

Thank you for reading if you made it this far

[merge-conflict]

🔫 FREEZE this is a STICKUP

gimme 5 great lines that you wrote (whether you’ve posted them or not) and 5 great lines someone else wrote (whether published or fanfic) and nobody gets hurt!!

🙌

‼️okay!! I am complying!! :3 Going to start with great lines someone else wrote, and I've used published authors because it is so much easier to just open up my kindle bookmarks on some recent books and pick out lines from some of my favorite books:

"The problem with sending messages was that people responded to them, which meant one had to write more messages in reply." - (Arkady Martine, A Memory Called Empire, Chapter 6)

"I said 'I need to check the perimeter,' and managed to turn and leave the crew area in a totally normal way and not like I was fleeing from a bunch of giant hostiles." - (Martha Wells, All Systems Red, Chapter 2)

"Emil could seem astonishingly harmless, but he did not look harmless at that moment." - (Laurie Marks, Fire Logic, Chapter 16)

"I mean, if I were thirty years younger– if I were twenty-five years younger– if I were eighteen years younger – God, if I were just ten years younger– if I were a year and a day younger– If I were a month younger– if you'd asked me just five minutes ago, four and a half even, if I'd just picked up on the first ring instead of the third, I'd transition." - (Daniel Lavery, Something That May Shock and Discredit You, Interlude XVI: Did You Know That Athena Used to Be a Tomboy?)

"I already pictured this sweet and mediocre girl saying something uninteresting like Oh, nooooo, oh my God, and I already knew part of me would be looking at her and thinking: You've never murdered for me." - (Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl, Nick Dunne: The Night of the Return)

and now some of the lines i've written that i like >.<

"Privately, V thought he might sound less bitter if he ate something, but the sudden influx of calories had imparted her with the newfound sense of patience and wisdom not to mention this out loud." – (the damn things overlap, syn,syn-ack,ack)

"There are springs digging into his ribs, and the wheezing air conditioner feels more like the fan in an oven, but Kerry falls asleep almost as his head hits the pillow and wakes to the bright gleam of the moon through the curtains and the sound of quiet conversation." (fleeting fits of reason, as long as we stay in this bed)

"She doesn't want to be this way, but she is." (thread-safe, four of swords: iamundernodisguise)

"No V, no Hand, just him." (the damn things overlap, old devils)

"His body staggers to the window as he drifts somewhere behind, lost, bewildered by the strange feeling his corpse has a mind of its own." - (let me die on stage singing the last song I know)

[embersofhope-if]

i would suggest a drabble where MC and Ash are hanging out for the last time before the games for the pride drabble (with it being WLW, MLM or just in general queer) but i feel like u got enough drabbles on your plate so just ignore this idea

uhm lets pretend its still june. this is both f!ash and m!ash but the only thing that's different is when Mc fixes Ash's hair.

there aren't really any trigger warnings. Mc does mention death a couple of times but that's really it. anyways! enjoy<3

wordcount: 3.4k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ F!Ash Versionˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It's hot, hotter than a normal July night. Just lying in my bed with a thin sheet is making me sweat so much I think I might drown in it. I know getting up to open my window might help to cool my room down but the very idea of moving conjures up an image of me bursting into flames as soon as I stand. I resign myself to sweat to death in my bed, or at least suffer until Ash decides to actually show up.   

This is her stupid tradition, and she doesn’t even show up on time. I should just tell her to go home when she shows up, it's what she deserves for forcing me to wait in my oven of a bedroom.  

But I wouldn’t do that. As much as I’m suffering in my room, she’s the one who has to sneak across the entire city. It would just be cruel to force her to go back without indulging her just a little bit.  

I doubt she’d even be upset if I did tell her to leave though, just allows her to go to the places she wants to go instead of worrying about me tripping on a rooftop and falling to my death.  

Just as I begin to contemplate moving downstairs, I hear a shuffle at my window and a slight knock. I quickly stand to go and open it, desperate to finally get out of this room.   

As soon as she catches sight of me Ash flashes a smile that she quickly drops trying to catch her breath. With how flushed her cheeks are and the fact that I can hear how hard her breathing is through the window she must’ve sprinted halfway across the city.  

“Can you please let me in? I didn’t come this far just to be shot out of your window by a peacekeeper” she manages to say; sounding only slightly like she’s about to pass out.  

“I don’t know. Maybe I enjoy watching you struggle to open an unlocked window.” I respond, already sliding the window open. Before I fully step away Ash falls into the room.   

I reach out to steady her, trying to make sure she doesn’t fall and wake up my entire family. Mother may like Ash, but I know for a fact that if she finds her breaking into my bedroom Ash would never be allowed back into the house again.  

“Are you alright?” I ask, worrying that she may have hurt herself trying to get here before it got too late in the night. The fact that she even has enough energy to get here after working all day in the factory will never not amaze me.   

“I'm fine. Don’t worry,” she responds, finally able to take a breath without wheezing. I realize that I’m still holding onto her arms, and she has yet to pull away from me. My cheeks flush at the realization at the lack of distance between us but I can’t bring myself to pull away either.   

With how close I am I'm able to see every freckle that’s scattered across her face, able to count every one of her ridiculously long eyelashes that Ash says are more of a curse than a blessing with how often they fall into her eyes. Her cheeks are rosy, but whether that’s from her being overheated or she's blushing as much as I am I’m not entirely sure. I look down at her lips and feel like I’m caught in a trance.   

Kiss her.   

Every other thought disappears from my mind focusing only on Ash's lips and how badly I want to kiss her. I bring my hand up, tracing the edge of her lips. They’re slightly chapped and I can tell she’s been picking at them recently. Something I know she only does whenever she’s worried.  

Just kiss her. It’ll make her feel better. Make her forget whatever she’s worried about.  

Before I get the chance to lean in Ash wraps her hand around mine and steps back. I can feel a bubble of disappointment rising in my chest and I do everything I can to not let it show on my face.  

“C’mon we can’t just stay in here the whole night,” she says, and I fight the urge to groan. Climbing buildings and sneaking around the city in this heat is the last thing I want to do.   

As she moves to the window I hesitate, contemplating just asking her to stay in for the night, but before I’m able to ask she’s already slipping back out into the night. Now I don’t have any type of fight in this, do I?  

I lean out of the window and look around making sure no peacekeepers are passing by. The streetlights are so dim I doubt that they would even be able to see me. Still, I try to move as fast as I can.  

At first, the heat is almost unbearable, but then I feel a slight breeze that causes me to shiver when it hits my sweat-soaked shirt. The higher I climb the more the wind picks up, causing the fire escape to creak and shake.  

Despite being in the best part of District 8 the fire escape is covered in so much rust I think it might be more of a safety hazard than anything. It creaks so loudly when I climb it, I think it might break off. Every time I feel the vibrations of Ash walking above me, I think the thing is actually coming down and dragging the two of us with it.  

Falling to my death on the very thing that’s supposed to help me survive would honestly be a funny way to go. At least there’s a sense of irony in it. I can think of a million worse ways to die. Including the very thing I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about all day.   

The Hunger Games.  

I know the chances of me being reaped are practically none, but the thought still haunts me. My name is still in that bowl, surrounded by thousands of other names, yes, but it's still in there all the same. I’m the lucky one compared to everyone else. How many times has the mayor's child been reaped to fight in the games? I can't think of a single time, not even in Districts like 1 and 2. Despite people being encouraged to volunteer there the mayor's children are never among them. Maybe they know something the rest don’t or maybe they just don’t feel the need to die for their District when there are already so many people clamoring to do it first.  

I’m so caught up in my head thinking about the Games I barely even noticed how much I’ve climbed. I look up and see Ash scaling the small ladder that leads to the roof. The fact that she hasn’t said a word since we’ve been out here worries me.   

Normally she’d at least whisper something to me but tonight she’s been completely silent. Maybe she’s thinking about the games too. I know she had to sign up for Tessera this year, even with the food I was able to give her it just wasn’t enough.   

Trying to convince her that I can just steal more food from my home was useless. I know it's not her pride stopping her from taking the food. Ash has never been that type of person. Confident? Yes, but never prideful. The fact that she refuses to let me help her is driving me insane. Maybe it's not just the Games that’s worrying her but something else. I try to come up with any other idea, but it feels impossible that it could be anything but that. 

As I reach the top and climb onto the roof, I see Ash just a few steps away. She’s looking off to the west, and I can tell she's mapping out which way we’re going to go. 

“Alright let's get moving before it gets too late”, I hear Ash say as she moves to jump to the next rooftop. I don’t even get the chance to ask which way we’re going. I’ve got to follow her and hope she remembers not to pick rooftops that I will die trying to jump to.  

I take a deep breath and jump to the first roof, running to catch up to Ash. She stops on the edge and turns to look at me, making sure that I’m right beside her before she gets too far ahead.   

“We’re going the same way we did last year, okay?” she says to me, the moon lighting up her eyes. There’s amusement in her voice and I can already tell what she’s about to ask.   

“You want to race don’t you,” I say before she gets the chance to say it first. She always beats me. Sometimes it seems like beating me in an incredibly illegal race is her proudest achievement. For how observant she is I don’t know how she hasn’t noticed that I’m letting her win. Ash may be better at ridiculously dangerous climbs but I’m still faster than her. She and Calliope like to joke that my biggest skill is that I can run away. I seriously hope I’ll never have to put that skill to the test. Racing Ash is about as much practice as I get with it.  

Ash lets out a laugh and for a moment I can see my Ash again, not the worrywart that’s hardly said a word to me the whole way up here.   

“Oh of course I do. At this point, it might as well be a part of the tradition.”  

I take a moment pretending to think about if I’m going to agree. We both know I’m going to say yes but this is as much a part of the tradition as the race itself. I pause and make a show of deciding on my answer.  

“Alright fine but if I win, I get a prize,” I say already getting ready to take off. There was one year when Ash took off before I could even finish my sentence. I may let her win but I’m going to make her work for it.   

“If I win, again, I also get a prize” she responds, I nod in agreement and we both get ready to run.   

“One, two, three”   

And we’re both off with me taking the lead. The first three rooftops are easy, it’s the fourth one that’s a bit of a struggle. With the first three, all you’ve got to do is jump down and run straight until you get to the next one, but the fourth roof has a small fence you have to jump over; to get high enough to do it you have to climb on top of an ac unit and take a not so small leap. Miss the landing and you’re falling to your death. Making the landing but still hitting the fence honestly is only slightly better. Not that I would prefer either, but impaling myself on a fence sounds better than falling off a building. Making the jump and feeling only slightly like you’ve injured yourself is genuinely the best case scenario; for me at least. 

I turn to see how close Ash is; she’s halfway across the second rooftop and if I want to keep my lead, I have to make the jump quickly. I climb the ac unit as quickly as I can and get ready to jump. I can’t afford to hesitate on this. I hesitate I die. This whole race is for fun but that doesn’t distract me from how dangerous this really is. I run across what little room I have on the unit and jump.   

Time freezes and I try not to look down. Try not to focus on the feeling of falling. Try not to think about how I could’ve completely screwed up this jump and I won’t even realize till it's too late. Suddenly I feel my feet hit the ground of the fourth roof. A jolt of pain is sent up my leg from the force of my landing, but other than that, I’m completely fine. I turn back just in time to see Ash take the jump as well and land significantly more smoothly than I did.   

She stops for a moment and we both take the second to look the other over and make sure we’re alright. Ash’s hair is in her face, but I can see that she’s still smiling; fighting back the urge to laugh. I so badly want to reach out and fix her hair. Just stop the race and enjoy her for a second but I know she wouldn’t let me. Not if it means she loses. Almost in unison, we take off again. The most dangerous part is over now; all we have to do is make sure not to be seen.  

We keep running for a good twenty minutes until finally I can see our goal. An abandoned building with an old water tower on the top. I’ve tried to figure out what the building was used for. There aren’t very many places in District 8 that aren’t used for something, so finding a completely abandoned one is more unsettling than anything. I don’t even remember how we found it. All I know is that one day I stopped feeling unsettled when I was there. One day I felt more comfortable there than anywhere else in District 8. One day it stopped being some old building and became ours.   

Our sanctuary away from the rest of the world. A place that only me and Ash know about.  

Normally it's about here that I start to slow down and let Ash overtake me in the race, but there’s a part of me that wants to win this time. I could use my prize to make Ash tell me what’s been bothering her so much, but that seems too unfair. If she wants to tell me what’s wrong, I couldn’t force her to. I wouldn’t want to force her to do anything at all. So, I start to slow down making it seem like I’m trying my best to catch my breath.   

Ash overtakes me just as we reach the last ladder, and she begins to climb.  I can already hear her shouts of excitement over winning, again. How she manages to still be so excited about winning the same thing every year is beyond me. Maybe next year I shouldn’t let her win. Bring down that ego of hers that only gets bigger with every race.   

But then I see the look of pure glee on Ash’s face as I climb onto the roof, and I know for a fact I’d never do anything to ruin it. Knowing that she’s happy in this moment is worth a slightly bruised ego.  

“Surprise, I win again,” Ash says brightly. She’s still out of breath from the run and is trying very hard to hide it. Her hair has almost completely fallen out of its braid, and it’s plastered to her face with sweat.   

“Oh, how shocking. I really didn’t see that one coming” I reply, rolling my eyes and reaching out to fix her hair; undoing what’s left of her braid and running my fingers through it trying to get rid of the tangles. “Now, what’s the prize this time.”  

I don’t even realize how close I’ve gotten to her until I notice all I can smell is her. The scent of cinnamon and leather is so intoxicating I could almost get drunk on it. As if I didn’t feel like her presence alone was enough to get drunk. All I can feel is the softness of her hair and her breath on my skin and it makes me feel like I’m spinning.  

I finally finish fixing her hair, but I can’t bring myself to pull away. I honestly think I might fall over if I try, and with the way Ash is gripping my arms, I think she might be having the same problem.  

At that moment, the world seems to fade and it’s just the two of us on that rooftop, bathed in the moonlight. We’re so close I can see her pulse racing at her neck, and I can feel the electricity in the air. Ash’s eyes lock with mine, and I see a mix of emotions swirling within them: excitement, anticipation, and something else. Something that she’s doing everything in her power to hide from me.   

Worry.   

She’s still worrying about the same thing that’s been bothering her all night. It must be the Games; there’s no other possibility; nothing else would make sense.  

I should pull away right now and ask her what’s wrong, but I keep looking at her and the thought of breaking this moment physically pains me. There is only one thing I can think of at this moment.   

Kiss her.  

I can’t hold back any longer. My heart is screaming for her, and I lean in, closing the distance between us. Our lips meet, and it’s like fireworks exploding in my chest. Time seems to stand still as we kiss. It’s soft, tender, and filled with all the thoughts and emotions that were too afraid to say out loud. I try to kiss away her worry and fear of what’s going to happen tomorrow. Replace her fear with the knowledge that no matter what happens I’ll be here for her, and I know that she’ll be here for me.  

Eventually, we pull away, both with wide smiles on our faces. Our foreheads rest against each other, and our breathing begins to steady. For a long quiet moment, we just stare at each other, comforted by the other's presence.  

“I know what I want my prize to be,” Ash whispers as she wraps her arms around me and leads us both in a slow sway to music that only she can hear.  

That’s right she still hasn’t claimed her prize yet. Last year she asked for some pastries and the year before that she had asked for my old pair of boots. Neither of which surprised me if I'm honest, normally it's easy to guess what she wants, but this year something feels off.   

“Alright, your wish is my command,” I say with a slight chuckle, and I try to move us into a proper waltz, but Ash doesn’t let me. Instead, she wraps herself around me even tighter than before and we stop moving altogether. Okay, something is seriously wrong; I’d be blind to not see it.   

Before I can ask her what the problem is, she pulls back and cups my face in both hands. Confused, I look into her eyes only to find her staring at me with such an intense look it startles me.   

“I want you to promise me that no matter what happens tomorrow you will keep helping my family,” she says with such finality that I struggle to respond.   

Why would tomorrow be any different than any other reaping day? She can’t possibly think that she’s going to be the one reaped. It’s almost always somebody neither of us has heard of. It’s sad to see them go but at the end of the day, they’re nobody.   

Ash is somebody.  

If she gets reaped there would be an uproar. Right? But what could anybody do if she was? What could I do if she was? Nothing. I could do absolutely nothing. Just like she would be able to do nothing if I’m the one who’s reaped.  

This must be what she’s been worried about all day. Why Ash is convinced that she’s going to be the one going into the Games I’m not sure, but if it’ll calm her down then I’ll promise her what she wants.   

“Okay, I’ll make sure they’re alright”, I say nodding my head and reaching out to cover her hands that still hold my face. I expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t.  

“I need you to say you promise”, Ash pleads, and I can feel my heart shatter when I notice that she’s starting to cry. Without thinking I pull her into me wrapping myself around her.   

“I promise you, Ash. As long as I live nothing will ever happen to them.”   

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ M!Ash Versionˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It's hot, hotter than a normal July night. Just lying in my bed with a thin sheet is making me sweat so much I think I might drown in it. I know getting up to open my window might help to cool my room down but the very idea of moving conjures up an image of me bursting into flames as soon as I stand. I resign myself to sweat to death in my bed, or at least suffer until Ash decides to actually show up.   

This is his stupid tradition, and he doesn’t even show up on time. I should just tell him to go home when He shows up, it's what he deserves for forcing me to wait in my oven of a bedroom.  

But I wouldn’t do that. As much as I’m suffering in my room, He’s the one who has to sneak across the entire city. It would just be cruel to force him to go back without indulging him just a little bit.  

I doubt he’d even be upset if I did tell him to leave though, just allows him to go to the places he wants to go instead of worrying about me tripping on a rooftop and falling to my death.  

Just as I begin to contemplate moving downstairs, I hear a shuffle at my window and a slight knock. I quickly stand to go and open it, desperate to finally get out of this room.   

As soon as he catches sight of me Ash flashes a smile that he quickly drops trying to catch his breath. With how flushed his cheeks are and the fact that I can hear how hard his breathing is through the window he must’ve sprinted halfway across the city.  

“Can you please let me in? I didn’t come this far just to be shot out of your window by a peacekeeper” He manages to say; sounding only slightly like he’s about to pass out.  

“I don’t know. Maybe I enjoy watching you struggle to open an unlocked window.” I respond, already sliding the window open. Before I fully step away Ash falls into the room.   

I reach out to steady him, trying to make sure he doesn’t fall and wake up my entire family. Mother may like Ash, but I know for a fact that if he finds him breaking into my bedroom Ash will never be allowed back into the house again.  

“Are you alright?” I ask, worrying that he may have hurt himself trying to get here before it got too late in the night. The fact that he even has enough energy to get here after working all day in the factory will never not amaze me.   

“I'm fine. Don’t worry,” He responds, finally able to take a breath without wheezing. I realize that I’m still holding onto his arms, and he has yet to pull away from me. My cheeks flush at the realization of the lack of distance between us but I can’t bring myself to pull away either.   

With how close I am I'm able to see every freckle that’s scattered across his face, able to count every one of his ridiculously long eyelashes that Ash says are more of a curse than a blessing with how often they fall into his eyes. His cheeks are rosy, but whether that’s from him being overheated or he's blushing as much as I am I’m not entirely sure. I look down at his lips and feel like I’m caught in a trance.   

Kiss him.   

Every other thought disappears from my mind focusing only on Ash's lips and how badly I want to kiss him. I bring my hand up, tracing the edge of his lips. They’re slightly chapped and I can tell he’s been picking at them recently. Something I know he only does whenever he’s worried.  

Just kiss him. It’ll make him feel better. Make him forget whatever He’s worried about.  

Before I get the chance to lean in Ash wraps his hand around mine and steps back. I can feel a bubble of disappointment rising in my chest and I do everything I can to not let it show on my face.  

“C’mon we can’t just stay in here the whole night,” he says, and I fight the urge to groan. Climbing buildings and sneaking around the city in this heat is the last thing I want to do.   

As he moves to the window I hesitate, contemplating just asking him to stay in for the night, but before I’m able to ask he’s already slipping back out into the night. Now I don’t have any type of fight in this, do I?  

I lean out of the window and look around making sure no peacekeepers are passing by. The streetlights are so dim I doubt that they would even be able to see me. Still, I try to move as fast as I can.  

At first, the heat is almost unbearable, but then I feel a slight breeze that causes me to shiver when it hits my sweat-soaked shirt. The higher I climb the more the wind picks up, causing the fire escape to creak and shake.  

Despite being in the best part of District 8 the fire escape is covered in so much rust I think it might be more of a safety hazard than anything. It creaks so loudly when I climb it, I think it might break off. Every time I feel the vibrations of Ash walking above me, I think the thing is actually coming down and dragging the two of us with it.  

Falling to my death on the very thing that’s supposed to help me survive would honestly be a funny way to go. At least there’s a sense of irony in it. I can think of a million worse ways to die. Including the very thing I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about all day.   

The Hunger Games.  

I know the chances of me being reaped are practically none, but the thought still haunts me. My name is still in that bowl, surrounded by thousands of other names, yes, but it's still in there all the same. I’m the lucky one compared to everyone else. How many times has the mayor's child been reaped to fight in the games? I can't think of a single time, not even in Districts like 1 and 2. Despite people being encouraged to volunteer there the mayor's children are never among them. Maybe they know something the rest don’t or maybe they just don’t feel the need to die for their District when there are already so many people clamoring to do it first.  

I’m so caught up in my head thinking about the Games I barely even noticed how much I’ve climbed. I look up and see Ash scaling the small ladder that leads to the roof. The fact that he hasn’t said a word since we’ve been out here worries me.   

Normally he’d at least whisper something to me but tonight he’s been completely silent. Maybe he’s thinking about the games too. I know he had to sign up for Tessera this year, even with the food I was able to give him it just wasn’t enough.   

Trying to convince him that I can just steal more food from my home was useless. I know it's not his pride stopping him from taking the food. Ash has never been that type of person. Confident? Yes, but never prideful. The fact that he refuses to let me help him is driving me insane. Maybe it's not just the Games that’s worrying him but something else. I try to come up with any other idea, but it feels impossible that it could be anything but that. 

As I reach the top and climb onto the roof, I see Ash just a few steps away. He’s looking off to the west, and I can tell he's mapping out which way we’re going to go. 

“Alright let's get moving before it gets too late”, I hear Ash say as he moves to jump to the next rooftop. I don’t even get the chance to ask which way we’re going. I’ve got to follow him and hope he remembers not to pick rooftops that I will die trying to jump to.  

I take a deep breath and jump to the first roof, running to catch up to Ash. He stops on the edge and turns to look at me, making sure that I’m right beside him before he gets too far ahead.   

“We’re going the same way we did last year, okay?” He says to me, the moon lights up his eyes. There’s amusement in his voice and I can already tell what he’s about to ask.   

“You want to race don’t you,” I say before he gets the chance to say it first. He always beats me. Sometimes it seems like beating me in an incredibly illegal race is his proudest achievement. For how observant he is I don’t know how he hasn’t noticed that I’m letting him win. Ash may be better at ridiculously dangerous climbs but I’m still faster than him. He and Calliope like to joke that my biggest skill is that I can run away. I seriously hope I’ll never have to put that skill to the test. Racing Ash is about as much practice as I get with it.  

Ash lets out a laugh and for a moment I can see my Ash again, not the worrywart that’s hardly said a word to me the whole way up here.   

“Oh of course I do. At this point, it might as well be a part of the tradition.”  

I take a moment pretending to think about if I’m going to agree. We both know I’m going to say yes but this is as much a part of the tradition as the race itself. I pause and make a show of deciding on my answer.  

“Alright fine but if I win, I get a prize,” I say already getting ready to take off. There was one year when Ash took off before I could even finish my sentence. I may let him win but I’m going to make him work for it.   

“If I win, again, I also get a prize” He responds, I nod in agreement and we both get ready to run.   

“One, two, three”   

And we’re both off with me taking the lead. The first three rooftops are easy, it’s the fourth one that’s a bit of a struggle. With the first three, all you’ve got to do is jump down and run straight until you get to the next one, but the fourth roof has a small fence you have to jump over; to get high enough to do it you have to climb on top of an ac unit and take a not so small leap. Miss the landing and you’re falling to your death. Making the landing but still hitting the fence honestly is only slightly better. Not that I would prefer either, but impaling myself on a fence sounds better than falling off a building. Making the jump and feeling only slightly like you’ve injured yourself is genuinely the best-case scenario; for me at least. 

I turn to see how close Ash is; He’s halfway across the second rooftop and if I want to keep my lead, I have to make the jump quickly. I climb the ac unit as quickly as I can and get ready to jump. I can’t afford to hesitate on this. I hesitate I die. This whole race is for fun but that doesn’t distract me from how dangerous this really is. I run across what little room I have on the unit and jump.   

Time freezes and I try not to look down. Try not to focus on the feeling of falling. Try not to think about how I could’ve completely screwed up this jump and I won’t even realize till it's too late. Suddenly I feel my feet hit the ground of the fourth roof. A jolt of pain is sent up my leg from the force of my landing, but other than that, I’m completely fine. I turn back just in time to see Ash take the jump as well and land significantly more smoothly than I did.   

He stops for a moment and we both take the second to look the other over and make sure we’re alright. Ash’s hair is in his face, but I can see that He’s still smiling; fighting back the urge to laugh. I so badly want to reach out and fix his hair. Just stop the race and enjoy him for a second but I know he wouldn’t let me. Not if it means he loses. Almost in unison, we take off again. The most dangerous part is over now; all we have to do is make sure not to be seen.  

We keep running for a good twenty minutes until finally I can see our goal. An abandoned building with an old water tower on the top. I’ve tried to figure out what the building was used for. There aren’t very many places in District 8 that aren’t used for something, so finding a completely abandoned one is more unsettling than anything. I don’t even remember how we found it. All I know is that one day I stopped feeling unsettled when I was there. One day I felt more comfortable there than anywhere else in District 8. One day it stopped being some old building and became ours.   

Our sanctuary away from the rest of the world. A place that only me and Ash know about.  

Normally it's about here that I start to slow down and let Ash overtake me in the race, but there’s a part of me that wants to win this time. I could use my prize to make Ash tell me what’s been bothering her so much, but that seems too unfair. If he wants to tell me what’s wrong, I couldn’t force him to. I wouldn’t want to force him to do anything at all. So, I start to slow down making it seem like I’m trying my best to catch my breath.   

Ash overtakes me just as we reach the last ladder, and he begins to climb.  I can already hear his shouts of excitement over winning, again. How he manages to still be so excited about winning the same thing every year is beyond me. Maybe next year I shouldn’t let him win. Bring down that ego of his that only gets bigger with every race.   

But then I see the look of pure glee on Ash’s face as I climb onto the roof, and I know for a fact I’d never do anything to ruin it. Knowing that He’s happy in this moment is worth a slightly bruised ego.  

“Surprise, I win again,” Ash says brightly. He’s still out of breath from the run and is trying very hard to hide it. His hair has is completely all over the place, and it’s plastered to his face with sweat.   

“Oh, how shocking. I really didn’t see that one coming” I reply, rolling my eyes and reaching out to fix his hair; smoothing down the fly aways and running my fingers through it trying to get rid of the tangles. “Now, what’s the prize this time.”  

I don’t even realize how close I’ve gotten to him until I notice all I can smell is him. The scent of cinnamon and leather is so intoxicating I could almost get drunk on it. As if I didn’t feel like his presence alone was enough to get drunk. All I can feel is the softness of his hair and his breath on my skin and it makes me feel like I’m spinning.  

I finally finish fixing his hair, but I can’t bring myself to pull away. I honestly think I might fall over if I try, and with the way Ash is gripping my arms, I think He might be having the same problem.  

At that moment, the world seems to fade and it’s just the two of us on that rooftop, bathed in the moonlight. We’re so close I can see his pulse racing at his neck, and I can feel the electricity in the air. Ash’s eyes lock with mine, and I see a mix of emotions swirling within them: excitement, anticipation, and something else. Something that he’s doing everything in his power to hide from me.   

Worry.   

He’s still worrying about the same thing that’s been bothering him all night. It must be the Games; there’s no other possibility; nothing else would make sense.  

I should pull away right now and ask him what’s wrong, but I keep looking at him and the thought of breaking this moment physically pains me. There is only one thing I can think of at this moment.   

Kiss him.  

I can’t hold back any longer. My heart is screaming for him, and I lean in, closing the distance between us. Our lips meet, and it’s like fireworks exploding in my chest. Time seems to stand still as we kiss. It’s soft, tender, and filled with all the thoughts and emotions that were too afraid to say out loud. I try to kiss away his worry and fear of what’s going to happen tomorrow. Replace his fear with the knowledge that no matter what happens I’ll be here for him, and I know that he’ll be here for me.  

Eventually, we pull away, both with wide smiles on our faces. Our foreheads rest against each other, and our breathing begins to steady. For a long quiet moment, we just stare at each other, comforted by the other's presence.  

“I know what I want my prize to be,” Ash whispers as he wraps his arms around me and leads us both in a slow sway to music that only He can hear.  

That’s right he still hasn’t claimed his prize yet. Last year he asked for some pastries and the year before that he had asked for my old pair of boots. Neither of which surprised me if I'm honest, normally it's easy to guess what he wants, but this year something feels off.   

“Alright, your wish is my command,” I say with a slight chuckle, and I try to move us into a proper waltz, but Ash doesn’t let me. Instead, he wraps himself around me even tighter than before and we stop moving altogether. Okay, something is seriously wrong; I’d be blind to not see it.   

Before I can ask him what the problem is, he pulls back and cups my face in both hands. Confused, I look into his eyes only to find him staring at me with such an intense look it startles me.   

“I want you to promise me that no matter what happens tomorrow you will keep helping my family,” he says with such finality that I struggle to respond.   

Why would tomorrow be any different than any other reaping day? He can’t possibly think that he’s going to be the one reaped. It’s almost always somebody neither of us has heard of. It’s sad to see them go but at the end of the day, they’re nobody.   

Ash is somebody.  

If he gets reaped there would be an uproar. Right? But what could anybody do if he was? What could I do if he was? Nothing. I could do absolutely nothing. Just like he would be able to do nothing if I’m the one who’s reaped.  

This must be what he’s been worried about all day. Why Ash is convinced that he’s going to be the one going into the Games I’m not sure, but if it’ll calm him down then I’ll promise him what he wants.   

“Okay, I’ll make sure they’re alright”, I say nodding my head and reaching out to cover his hands that still hold my face. I expect him to pull away, but he doesn’t.  

“I need you to say you promise”, Ash pleads, and I can feel my heart shatter when I notice that he’s starting to cry. Without thinking I pull him into me wrapping myself around him.   

“I promise you, Ash. As long as I live nothing will ever happen to them.”   

[thalwhore]

Humanity.

●

"Just through here, then we can rest a moment." Lyris says as she pushes the large doors open, leading to a separate room of the ruin before running back to help the Vestige carry Fennorian in, gently lowering him to the floor.

"Thank you, my friends. I- I really don't know how I would have gotten out of that, if not for your help." The vampire wheezes out weakly, leaning his head back against the cold stone and closing his eyes with a pained expression. "I just...just need a moment, then I'll be alright."

"Take as long as you need, I'll look around back there- see if our dead friend left any notes around." Comes Lyris' response, busying herself with searching around the laboratory- intimacy isn't exactly a Nordic strong suit, especially amongst those who aren't family.

Fennorian sighs and takes a ragged breath, "I'm terribly sorry about all this- slowing you both down. You ought to just leave me here, I'll catch up later." He says, clearly swallowing down the beginning of tears he won't let out.

"Nonsense, you're a valuable member of our team, a friend, even! Besides, you'd do the same for us wouldn't you?" The Vestige inquires, sliding with their back against the wall to come and sit beside Fennorian, rummaging through their pack.

"Of course!" He responds immediately. "You're both so incredibly important, I wouldn't like with myself if I just left you both without knowing you'd made it out alive!" The vampire adds, face softening at the realisation that this is exactly how his companions feel as well.

The Vestige hums a small laugh and hands over Fennorians flask, "Exactly. We're a team now, and that means no man- or mer, left behind." The Vestige says, turning to face him as Fennorian graciously gulps down the contents of the flask.

●

"Hold still, my skills are passable at best and I don't want to hurt you" The Vestige bickers, the restorative light flowing from their hands and stitching Fennorians flesh back together. Thanks to his still weakened state, the vampire wasn't able to fight on the way back and while his companions were busy with a larger group of Harrowed, Fennorian took a few slashings from their claws before they could be killed.

"I think I'm going to turn in for the night, I trust our vampire friend is going to be alright?" Lyris asks, shucking off some of her more heavy armour now that there's (mostly) no risk of danger.

"Well he doesn't look any more dead than normal, I'd consider that a good sign." Comes the response, the Vestige rising from their seat in one of the many spare rooms to grab the small bucket and washcloth they'd requested.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, Lyris. I simply need to rest and regain my strength is all- should be alright by the morning." Fennorian adds, flashing an assuring smile towards the doorway that the half-giant currently resides under, barely grazing the top with her hair, who then holds her hands up in mock surrender before cracking a grin and leaving, closing the door behind her.

The Vestige sits back down on the chair by the bed, dipping the washcloth in the tub before wringing out the extra and beginning to clean the Vampires wounds.

"I could probably do that myself, you know." Fennorian offhandedly mentions, though aside from a slight blush to his cheeks, he seems none too bothered about the interaction. "Vampires are remarkably flexible, I could probably even do my back!"

The Vestige responds with a hearty laugh, going over the few areas with blood still on them. Reaching the Vampires shoulder, their hand brushes his hair and catches on a tangled knot. "By the gods Fennorian, when's the last time you brushed this?" They inquire, cleaning and wringing out the cloth before setting it to the bedside table.

"Well- there's um, not been much time for that recently..." Fennorian trails off murmurimg something under his breath.

"What was that?" The Vestige asks.

"I said-" he sighs defeatedly. "I said I'm not very good at taking care of myself. Never really saw the point once I turned, so that I could go from monster to visually pleasing monster? No thanks." He says with a shrug of the shoulders.

"Well, luckily now you have me to do that for you." The Vestige quips back, grabbing a comb that they keep inside the drawer by the bed. "Turn round, let me brush it for you."

Fennorian let's out a small huff, begrudgingly accepting and turning so his back faces them, crossing his legs as well as his arms.

"There's no need to be a child about this- it's just hair brushing. One of the most basic forms of self care." The Vestige says, beginning at the tips where they gently tug away the knotted strands of hair.

"I know, I know it's just-" Fennorian sighs, "I don't know why I'm even letting you do this- if you were anyone else I'd have left by now. 'I don't need you to brush my hair, I am a grown Mer!' You know?" He says, putting on a voice for demonstration purposes.

The Vestige responds with a smile. "Then why haven't you? I wouldn't stop you. You're free to walk out that door at any moment, you know that."

Fennorian ponders the question silently, relaxing further as the comb glides through his hair as its further de-tangled. "I don't quite know." He finally answers, "Something about you is just, comforting. I feel that I can allow myself to be treated with care by you." The vampire finishes, before quickly shaking his head and brushing his hand through the air, as if to swat the words he'd just said away. "That's- that's nonsense. I'm sure that's just the exhaustion talking, and the-"

He's cut off by the Vestige gently thwacking the side of his head with the comb. "Don't apologise for that you dummy. Its normal to want things like this. Comfort is a perfectly natural thing to desire, being treated with care and kindness is perhaps one of the most base human needs." They say, setting the comb back down as they run their hand through Fennorians newly knot-free locks. "Which means you've still got a little bit of humanity left in you. And that little bit should be nourished and cherished, its what keeps you separate from the sort that we've been fighting."

Fennorian hums quietly in response, "Thank you." He says upon hearing the chair creak as the Vestige stands up. "I sometimes forget that humanity is what makes me a vampire rather than a monster. So thank you, for caring about me like that."

[niuniente]

@dannybagpipesarecalling Thank you for this tag, I literally saw it as a first thing in the morning when I woke up <3

Were you named after anyone? No, but my name was "stolen" from someone else lol. My grandmother has named me, and a few years ago, while digging through a family tree, I found a relative with an identical name to mine (same first, middle and last name). She's my grandmother's niece. Till this day, I don't know why my grandmother stole the name her brother had given to his own daughter, lol!

When was the last time you cried? I woke up crying maybe last month while having a silly but sad dream. I was really angry to someone in the dream and tried to yell at them but I could only wheeze. Nothing serious!

Do you have kids? I'm a childfree by choice.

Do you use sarcasm? Occasionally but only with certain people. But it has to be funny sarcasm, like black humour, not to belittle someone in their face.

What’s the first thing you notice about people? Their vibes, literally! I can read people like open books and I can't help to notice their vibes the first. There have been so many cases where a completely normal, polite, friendly person gives me "NO" vibes at the first look and then - sometimes years later - it's revealed to me that yeah, that person is definitely a BIG NO. Same the other way around, too! Oh and you can't fake the vibes. Not to me.

What’s your eye colour? Grey. A quite typical eye color in this country.

Scary movies or happy endings? I've never in my whole life seen a movie which would have been scary, so from these both, I'd like to see a horror movie, please.

Any special talents? I can tell a time without looking a clock, even if I had went to take a nap or just woken up. Every single hour (and half of an hour) has it's own unique feeling to it. I pick it up and know what the time is. Seasonal chances won't affect this. If I can't pick a time up then it's s sign that I'm stressed, tired or in a bad health. I've also got multiple forms of synesthesia.

Where were you born? East-Finland, North Europe

What are your hobbies? Drawing, collecting stickers and ice-cream flavors, watching or listening to paranormal documentaries and podcasts.

Have any pets? No, never had one and I think I might not even have one.

What sports do/have you played? I'm too sick to be sporty but I attended a little while to Japanese spear, Naginata, lessons. Sometimes, I do yin yoga at home. I walk everywhere since I don't have driver's license so it counts as an exercise.

How tall are you? 153cm / 5'0 (which is not accurate as 5'0 in centimeters is anything between 150cm - 153cm)

Favorite subject at school?  Drama & improvisation

Dream job? I'd like to continue working with my art with my own phase with a great success and great income! I've gotten to work with podcasts recently and would enjoy that work, too.

Tagging ANYONE who wishes to do this, tell a bit about themselves, and whoever happens to come across with this. And I mean it - go crazy, have fun!

[old-schoolgenz]

Uh... Whoops

Chapter 3: Double Whoops

It didn't take long for Aphmau to fall asleep, halfway into the second hour long episode and she was out like a light. Although, she was nearly curled up in Aaron's lap, he didn't mind of course, but it was getting ridiculously late and he needed to get some sleep.

But there was no way he was moving when Aphmau was sleeping that soundly and trouble free while using his shoulder as a pillow.

So what was a man to do?

He had a couple options, replace his body with a pile of blankets so he could go to bed and she would still have something to lean against.

OR, not go to bed and just... sleep here.

He stared at her for a moment, then glanced back up the stairs to his room.

He shuffled to reach for the giant blanket to replace himself with, only for Aphmau to huff in subconscious frustration and grabbed his arm tighter.

Shit. Okay, staying here it is.

Since he was already holding the blanket, he threw it over the both of them, and very slowly brought them both into a laying position.

This was weird. And he was usually pretty okay with anything, it didn't feel wrong per say, but he felt a twang of awkwardness as she lie peacefully on his chest.

A slight blush rushed to his ears. This reminded him of high school, where himself and Aphmau met, and well, you know how high schoolers are. Full of hormones and misguided feelings.

It had been what? Ten years ago since they were last this close. He'd thought about it more recently of course, someone didn't just get over a first crush.

He wasn't sure where he was going with his thoughts, but he did fall asleep to the sound of them.

The phones ugly noise reverberated through the house, startling the sleeping duo into a slight panic.

It went to voice-mail

"Hey Aaron, It's Jeff, I gotta fly into Texas next week, and I couldn't find a sitter, normally I'd ask first but seeing as you owe me a favor..."

The voice-mail faded into the background for both of them. bodies had tangled up during the night and nothing could slice through the thick layer of embarrassment that had surrounded the two.

Aphmau fell back onto Aaron twice due to the speed she had tried to peel herself off him, Aaron was not helping and instead was laughing both at her failed attempts and at himself (For not helping, go figure)

"Sorry! Sorry!" She finally managed to hoist herself up of the couch, ears and face stained a florescent red, some out of embarrassment, but some still out of anger with Aaron's now uncontrollable laughter.

"Why is this so funny to you?" She seethed, but underneath she had started to grin due to his contagious laughter.

"You *wheeze* looked like a fish out of water." Internally, Aaron was just as mortified at their position as she was, but her struggle was far more entertaining than his embarrassment for now.

"I- Hey! I did not!" 

"Yeah, and Dante is good with women." His laughter finally chilled, and Aphmau slowly got over the initial embarrassment of being tangled up in such a... intimate postiton..

"Alright. Fine. Whatever." She huffed in indignation,  only for Aaron to chuckle back.

"S-sorry, you fell asleep in my shoulder last night and when I tried to move you didn't let me, so I just didn't move." At his explanation, her temper cooled slightly.

"It's fine, just don't ever call me a fish again!" She grumbled, before looking up at the living room clock.

"It's nearly noon! The girls are going to wonder where I am! I better go!" She quickly grabbed her things and called for Celestia, who had been napping on one of the couch armrests the entire time.

"Alright! See you!" He barely got the words out before she shut the door, leaving him alone in the near silence of his apartment.

Aphmau almost sprinted to her house, Celestia right on her tail as she whipped open the door, Katelyn and Kawaii~Chan were both waiting on her, Kawaii~Chan with not-at-all concealed excitement and Katelyn with not-even-trying-to-hide-it-anger.

"Where has Aphmau~Senpai been all night?" Aphmau was expecting Katelyn to ask the first question, and was surprised to be answering Kawaii~Chan first.

"It was movie night like every Friday guys." Aphmau responded as nonchalantly as she could possibly muster.

"Yeah but you're usually home by like one am. It's noon." Ah, there was the barely contained anger that was Katelyn, she didn't sound pleased.

"I fell asleep." Aphmau answered simply, trying to inch her way upstairs to avoid this unpleasant conversation.

"And Aaron didn't wake you up?"

"He... uh fell asleep too."

Ah, the sentence that broke the werewolves back. Kawaii~Chan could no longer contain her excitement and let out a squeal that Laurance and Garroth heard from across the street.

"I feel a disturbance". Said poor Laurance

"What happened?!" Katelyn stood up to stop Aphmau from running up the stairs.

"Nothing! We fell asleep! Why are you so interested?" She asked through a massive blush, no nothing happened, but at the same time, something had.

"Because I need to know if best freind has been defiled! You come home at like noon wearing the same outfit as yesterday, from a guys house, a guy you used to date mind you!"

"We did not used to date! And I assure you I haven't been defiled!" Katelyn did not look convinced, and neither was Kawaii~Chan based upon her continued screaming.

"Guys, Nothing happened, nothing will ever happen between Aaron and I. Okay?" She yelled, a pang of random guilt immediately washed over her, but this interrogation needed to end at this instant.

"And even if it did I wouldn't be this damn obvious about it. Jeeze" Oops, that addition was supposed to be internal, but the gasps that emitted from the duo with her was enough for her to escape into her room and lock the door.

Well, that was going to be a permanent memory for them.

[arkham-outskirts]

PAPER CHASE

! SPOILERS for the scenario contained within the Call of Cthulhu: Starter Kit, Paper Chase !

Below the cut will be various out of context quotes, summaries and art relating to our very first gaming session/scenario!

Also, I will warn: There's a bit more suggestive humor in this campaign then Alone Against the Flames...

GM/Keeper: @jackgiggles Player 1, Nadine Greenwald: @thevioletscout Player 2, Louis Milch: @atorchzagreusandtris

Pre-Game Stuff

Jack: I cannot wait to show you guys, each others characters *laughing in "what we have done"*

(Talking about the fact we didn't know what Louis looked like yet, compared to knowing TOO MUCH about Pepper) Scout: I got something, Very out of pocket. Scout: Tri, are you okay with this? Tri: Yes. Scout: It's not like I've seen, with my own eyes, Jack gave Pepper a big dick.

Jack, putting Pepper's ref in chat: This is the boy. Tri: Oh he's nice! Jack: Yea, he's nice ^^ Tri: Nice with uhh, a big ding dong. Jack: -whEEZE-

---

Jack: So Tri, do you want to explain to Scout, who your character is? Tri: I'll take a hard boiled egg, why not. Uhhhh *laughing* Tri: SO! This all kinda started as a joke, because the first thing I came up with; Is my character was going to be a Milkman. Scout: .... Alright. Tri: BUT- But it gets *can't stop laughing* Jack and Tri: *dying, can't speak* Tri: His entire thing, revolves around M i l k. His last name is Milch, Jack: German for Milk Tri: -yeah, and his name, Louis, comes from the guy who invented pasteurized milk.

Tri: BUT THE COMPANY- what did we call it?? Mommy milk-? Jack, dying: MILLA or something?? -My dogs are barking in the background- Jack and Tri: MOMMY MILLA MILK COMPANY

Tri: And his dad disappeared to go get milk, and that's why he chose his profession! Jack: I'm getting the meme I made of him.

Scout, realizing what the fuck we did: WHAT THE HELL??? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??

---

And Louis is also apart of underground fighting rings, alike boxing, for extra money on the side.

Scout: Alright.............. I think I heard enough.

---

Scout, introducing her character: My character is Nadine Greenwald, she's a dancer at a Speakeasy. And uh, small town girl trying to make it big in the city! Tri: Oh, sweet! Scout: She likes to believe ignorance is bliss, but can't ignore when someone needs help.

---

Nice and calm introduction.

---

Jack: So Scout has the serious character, and Tri is bringing the memes. And we love it. Tri: THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS!!

---

Now Starting... The Actual Campaign

---

It is 1929, July when Nadine Greenwald and Louis Milch are contacted by Thomas Kimball, a resident in a small, overgrown town down south from Arkham City called Windleigh. He deemed them the most trustworthy individuals to handle a case due to a quiet town having a lazy sheriff who was no help for a strange theft.

---

GM(Jack): Tri- or Louis, you are very well familiar with the place because it's on your track to... deliver your milk. Louis(Tri): *laugh* GM: You're familiar with the neighborhood, and recognize the new face of Thomas who moved in recently after the passing of his uncle, Douglas Kimball.

---

The town is very overgrown and clearly, it's dying out with the passing years. Most residents are elderly. The Kimball Residence is pretty rundown, and full of moving boxes and such messes expected from such a move.

Thomas goes on to invite them in, and explain what had happened.

"You see, I went into my uncle's study this morning and saw that the window was opened, and some books were clearly missing. History textbooks, some novels- I don't know what specifically, since the library isn't all that well organized. But the sheriff was no help, and while there were footprints they were so muddled in the investigation from sloppy work they're of no use.

"And, they wound up causing more trouble then what was worth calling them for, as they broke one of my statues..."

---

Nadine (Scout), ooc: This is a weird question, but does he still have the statue? Thomas, (GM): I put it in a box, I think I can get it fixed. It's just one of my own...... cat states. It- it was my grandmothers, you see? Nadine, trying to see if it was lore related: O h

---

Thomas asks them to find clues as to who taken them, and for what purpose. Then, he tacts on basically an optional mission for questions he never really had the chance to be answered.

---

Thomas: It's perhaps foolish, but- if you could find anything of my uncle, it would be appreciated.

Nadine: Do you have any ideas of suspects? Thomas: Hmm... I'm not quite sure. I've only been here for a month, and the only one to cross me was that damn Sheriff. Everyone else, was pleasant... from what I've seen.

---

Thomas lends rooming for the two while they stay and investigate around Windleigh, since he wasn't going to force the two to pay for housing doing a job for him!

---

GM: You can tell Thomas is more of a secluded, artsy kinda person. Not great with social interactions... GM: This is also me being very awkward about roleplaying someone! *laughter* GM: I have also joked that this is Thomas eyeing the man. Louis, ooc: OH okay! I get it!

---

Nadine: She like, offers a comforting hand on his shoulder. Louis: Louis- he offers the man a bottle of milk. Thomas: UH no- no thanks, I am rather lactose intolerant! Louis, ooc: He mistook the eyeing as "He wants some milk!" GM: Oh a himbo, Thomas has his work cut out for him! Nadine, ooc: *head in hands* Oh god, it's Pepper and Jo all over again.

---

Nadine, to the rescue: SO could you tell us more about the missing books? Thomas, ooc: Thomas is VERY glad for the change of topic, and goes on to explain what is in the library!

---

Nadine and Louis first start investigating the library-study, mostly full of historical documents, texts and random novels. However, they do see a few more... unusual books, with strange covers. They are occult, as Douglas was a man who taught at Miskatonic University.

Unfortunately, neither recognize any of the tomes. However, due to Nadine's work in Arkham, she knew there were odd subjects and ideas circling the cities University, so it wasn't too unusual for a professor to have such texts.

Louis goes to investigate the window, of which is cracked open. Dust was unsettled, showing it wasn't opened often. Thus being the point of entry. And- dried mud or dirt around the windowsill. Like someone climbed in.

Upon a spot hidden, they search around and discover a handwritten dairy. It was very cursive handwriting, obviously belonging to Douglas Kimball. As they flip through it, they take notice of the fact the quality of the handwriting and grammar dramatically decreasing as it goes on. Such a thing being concerning, for a retired professor.

---

Scout: I'm gonna go turn my light on, it's getting dark out Jack, reading notes: Hehe ~Spooky~

---

Douglas' journal mentions something about "making a decision", "joining my friends below" and something about a "creature".

---

Louis: Probably a possum or somethin' -laughter- Nadine, ooc: I'm curious, what is his Intelligence stat? Louis, ooc: .... GM: I will say, you made him strong and charming, but he's not the sharpest tool in the shed. Louis, ooc: His Intelligence is 50 and 40 Education. Nadine, ooc: Nadine's not much better, she has 55 in both. Very pretty, but not very bright. GM: Himbo and bimbo.

---

Louis: I don't think it could be an older person that climbed through a window. Nadine: You'd be surprise, but I'm not pinning suspects yet.

---

They ask around Windleigh, and run across an elderly man who kinda fills in about Douglas and the Kimball family. He explains Douglas was more of a reclusive person in town, always reading. So nobody really knew the Kimballs, but the kid...

Small Girl: He's just really weird! He gave me a bad feeling, especially recently... Nadine: .... What do you mean by that? Small girl: I don't know, he's just weird! He's always on his own, at the graveyard! Who does that?? Louis: Uhh yeah-

The old man patted the girl on the head, and kinda shrugged it off while slightly scolding the girl, "Abigail, that is rude, you can't just call people weird." and excuses himself.

---

GM: If you would like to talk to the older, glamorous lady, make a Appearance or Credit Rating roll. Nadine, ooc: Nadine has a... 60 in appearance. Louis, ooc: Mine's a 70! GM: Alright, roll!

Louis, ooc: 90 Nadine, ooc: 75, I'm over. GM: R i g h t, so the lady- Lady O’Dell, does not want to hear what you have to say. And kinda- uses her parasol to kinda shy away from you and block sight like "Ohhh no, please go!" Louis, ooc: -whEEZE- Alright, to the graveyard then!

---

Lady O'Dell smelled the poor on them.

---

GM: The graveyard is behind the Kimball home, and kinda uphill with a lot of overgrown roots along the cobblestone. Nadine, ooc: Nadine is wearing h e e l s GM: oof, yeah good luck Nadine Louis, ooc: And Louis is carrying his- bucket of milk. Nadine: Not gonna help a lady, got it!

GM: and there are a bunch of... uhhh. What are those buildings that hold like, urns n stuff? Louis, ooc: Uhh I wanna say mausoleums-?? Or- GM: Mausoleums! Louis: Ah, yeah!

---

The gaveyard is very old, with stone overgrown and worn down. There didn't seem to be much room left for anyone else to be buried.

There is the graveyard keeper, a very old and grouchy old man. His hair was once red, but now greyed at his temples and roots. He was very haggard.

---

GM: Roll for Charm, or which ever is highest. Cause he's grouchy. Nadine, ooc: I got 91, I'm shit outta luck.

---

Louis however passes his charm roll, so he walks up to the caretaker, Jefferson. Louis being his usual charming milkman self, manages to bring out the better parts of Jefferson to ask about what he might know about the Kimball House. Jefferson appears as if he's familiar with the place.

And it's shown, he's actually quite friendly with Douglas. Probably kindred spirits in a way, being a grouchy groundskeeper and a reclusive bookworm.

---

Jefferson (GM): It's unfortunate, the house is- has been gone off- in a- for an- in- *sputters* GM: I'm having a stroke.

---

Jefferson divulges in the fact they enjoyed each other presence, and talked very casually. A nice, calm friendship between two old guys. Plants, the weather, all those sorts of things.

---

Jefferson: And it's strange, Douglas always had this strange... fascination, or draw, with this one tombstone. Nadine and Louis: Hmmm... Jefferson: He'd always go there to read.

Nadine: Where is this tombstone? Jefferson: Oh, its one of the oldest ones nearby the mausoleum, the first one. Actually pretty close to the Kimball House.

---

Louis thanks Jefferson for the information, though it's noted that Jefferson seems to grow more anxious- and glancing towards the shadows, edging away from them.

---

Nadine, occ: I got 25, and my spot hidden is 35. Perspective gal! ... So far.

---

Nadine eventually notices that while Jefferson is trying to edge out of the conversation, being kinda twitchy, she notices there's an odd shape in his coat. Looking at his pocket, she could see the glimmer of a brown bottle. (Booze)

---

Nadine, ooc: I guess he's drinking...? GM: Note, prohibition is still in effect. Nadine, ooc: Nadine could give Less of a shit, she works in a speakeasy!

---

Nadine doesn't mention it, given the fact they had some sort of lead.

---

Louis, ooc: Of course, because it's customary for Louis, he offers Jefferson a bottle of milk. GM: -wheezing- Jefferson waves him away, "No, no- we got some already- thanks"

---

GM: I will say- you should continue with graveyard later. Because there's plenty of stuff to see Before then. GM: I learned this with my parents, who finished this EARLY.

---

Nadine, ooc: That tombstone ain't goin' anywhere. Louis, ooc: Watch us be Wrong. -laughter-

---

*they agree to go to the library next* Louis, ooc: Time to go read books!

GM: Also I will shoehorn you into every location, cause I am proud of them.

---

Louis is rather familiar with Windleigh, and it's a very small town so they find the Library easily. The library is quite small, one story and perhaps just 3 rooms maximum. It's ran by one person at the moment, a petite blonde woman, who's hair is actually white is so blonde.

---

Louis: We're looking for some recently donated books? Librarian [GM]: Ohh, we hadn't had anything new. We've been told from Thomas we might receive some of of his uncle's old collection, but nothing yet, I'm afraid.

Nadine, ooc: I got a 42- Nadine doesn't go to the library often. GM: Nope, apparently not. Louis, ooc: 20 percent... and I rolled a 6. GM: A 6?? Damn-

---

Either by shear luck or divine intervention, Louis finds an old newspaper article, badly damaged and from roughly 10 years ago. Very odd for it's condition- faded and hard to read.

(Here's to my first handmade handout.)

---

GM: You can't really tell much else, besides that it was printed by the Arkham Gazette.

---

Nadine, ooc: Maybe I'm- peeking over his Very broad shoulders. -laughter-

Louis, ooc: He's like- average height? GM: Like, 5'10. But he's very broad. Louis, ooc: He's VERY Broad. GM: A broad, if you will.

---

The librarian kinda freaks out when they picked it up, saying that the place was just very unkempt by the previous owner for whatever reason, and it was very delicate. She then informs them that, as she takes it away, if they're looking for a more intact copy there might be one at the Arkham Gazette.

Librarian: I have a cousin who works there, he'd be most glad to let you look around. Nadine, ooc, realizing: Ohhhh I know who this woman is. GM: heh, snow white hair?

Debra: I'm Debra Snow, if you give a man "Jo Winters" my name, I'm sure he'll let you investigate. 'cause he's more nosy then he should be about this kind of stuff.

---

Nadine tried rolling for Psychology to see if she could trust her, and upon failing decided to just go for it and explained why they were looking into things, about the break-in and the books.

Debra is surprised, and mentions she's met the man once since moving to Windleigh. That Douglas was only announced dead because there was zero trace.

---

Nadine: That's certainly unfortunate... Louis: Yes, indeed......... Would you like some milk?? -LAUGHTER- GM: Debra is taken aback, and goes ".... UHH. SURE??"

Nadine, ooc: She likes gets behind him, and mouths to her "sorry, he does this all the time"

---

Quick intermission, but there was discussion of how Louis and Nadine knew each other, since they really easily slipped into a dynamic like casual friendship. Likely just Louis delivering and they talked enough to have bonded.

---

Nadine: I guess uh- I'm kinda interested in going back to Arkham to check out the Gazette. Louis: I would sugge- *discord cuts out on Scout's end* Nadine, ooc: .... Tri where'd you go??

---

Louis, ooc: Hop into my milk van!

---

GM: Every time I say Arkham, I just think- Batman. Louis, ooc: SAME-

---

Part 2: [LINK]

[transitranger327]

Ehn’yuste: the Three Ways, Chapter 4: Building Ranks

Summary: A flashback to the beginning of Sabine’s journey as a Jedi. In the present, Shin and Sabine contemplate their future. Sabine offers guidance to a struggling Bo-Katan.

Notes: This chapter kept growing longer and longer, until I couldn’t finish a scene. Then I realized I could just move the scene to the next chapter. So I did. Did you know there’s an S in Vizsla? I didn’t!

A Mando’a glossary is in the end notes (below the cut), but you should check it out, I did a bit of linguistics

Eight years before the Ignition

The former Jedi stepped off onto a cold desert moon. The remnants of the Jedi holy site still breathed, but it was a halting, wheezing breath. She couldn’t bear to venture to the crater formerly known as the Holy City. Instead, Ahsoka turned to the outskirts, where the crew of the Ghost were assisting the remnants of Gerrera’s Partisans trying to expel the remnants of the Imperial presence. Not exactly a welcoming place for a meeting, but she supposed it would do. As she approached the rebel camp, she heard familiar voices shouting from tents. “I’ve been playing with explosives since I was a TODDLER! I know EXACTLY how much rhydonium we’ll need for a bomb that size!” She saw a Mandalorian woman storming out in a huff, whose mood improved immediately upon seeing the former Jedi. “Ahsoka! You made it!” she said as she embraced an old friend. Sabine radioed her crewmates to join her in the Ghost, then turned to Ahsoka, “Come on, let me take you to the family.”

The freighter-turned-rebellion symbol was at once familiar and yet distinct. Kanan and Ezra’s absences were palpable, yet a new kind of joy had begun to take their place. The former imperial Kallus (she was looking forward to learning how he became a turncoat) had taken Ezra’s old bunk, and Zeb seemed to be a lot warmer to his presence than the young Jedi. Rex now seemed to be living on the Ghost full time, and he was using Kanan’s old room. And this new member, Omega, well…

“Commander! Ezra told me you survived Malachor, but I couldn’t believe it until I saw you with my own eyes.” “Rex, what did Kenobi always say?” “Yeah yeah, I know, ‘your eyes can deceive you’, but not all of us have force powers. Anyway, this is Omega. Omega, this is Ahsoka, my old commander I always told you about.” “Another sister? Older, I sense?” “Wait how did you know?” Omega was surprised, very rarely had anyone guessed that correctly. “Like I said, looks can be deceiving. Anyway, so glad to meet you.”

Allegedly, Omega was staying with her brother in Kanan’s room, but more of her personal effects seemed to be in Hera’s room. A story for another time, perhaps, when they didn’t have war plans to make. After making their plans to liberate the Kyber mines, the crew began to ask what Ahsoka had been up to. She began to explain her recent travels, “There has been some disturbances in the Force lately. Not significant exactly, but concerning. Sabine, Ezra said you were with him when he visited the World Between Worlds. Can you tell me more?”

Sabine thought back to that day, the last days of Lothal’s occupation. The last days she saw her dad and brother. “Ezra and I were investigating the Empire’s looting of the Lothal Temple. We discovered a mural, one that could be changed to open the gateway Ezra used.”

A mural would line up with what Ahsoka had discovered on Malachor. “Can you show me the mural?” She assumed Sabine had made either a copy or her own art inspired by it. 

As Sabine went to her room to grab a sketchbook, Omega worked up the courage to inform Ahsoka of her own personal history. “For 3 years after the Empire started, there was a secret cloning research program focusing on m-counts. Kids my age and younger subjected to a bunch of medical testing. My brothers and I staged a breakout that destroyed most of the research, but do you think it could have anything to do with what you’re dealing with?” She hoped she wasn’t making a bad impression, and had learned how to be a bit more tactful since meeting Ventress all those years ago.

Ahsoka was intrigued. “It’s certainly possible. The Empire has a habit of kidnapping kids who would’ve been Jedi younglings. Would you be willing to put me in contact with the ones you rescued?”

An offer to be in contact with a Jedi for more than just generic rebellion? Omega leapt at the chance, “Of course, some of them still live with us.” 

Sabine returned to the commons, sketchbook in hand. She projected up a page featuring a charcoal illustration of three figures. “The mural looked mostly like this, but the arms of these three moved depending on if the gateway was opened or closed. The imperial leading the looting was convinced they were gods of some sort.” 

Ahsoka frowned. “He was right. I’ve met those gods. They called themselves The Ones: Father, Son, and Daughter. The Son was the embodiment of the Dark Side. The Daughter was the embodiment of the Light Side. The Father attempted to keep them in balance. I found a mural of just the Son, deep in the Malachor Temple. It helped me start to piece together how these mysteries work.” Sabine asked what happened to them. “They’re dead. But their legacy lives on.”

—

As the impromptu conference came to a close, and the crew of the Ghost dispersed to prepare for the fight, Sabine lingered with Ahsoka. She was trying to find an angle to ask for Ahsoka’s…help? Guidance? Tips and tricks‽ “ugh why does this ha—”

“Sabine, do you have something you want to ask me?” The Mandalorian’s silent pleading could’ve been noticed by anyone, but the Force made it much easier for Ahsoka to sense the intentions. Curiosity, not sorrow. 

For a moment, Sabine was thrown mentally off balance. She had known Jedi could read minds, but it had been more than a year since a Jedi was close to her (The Skywalker kid was off hanging out with Rogue Squadron), and she had forgotten. So the story started spilling out of her mouth “EzraGaveMeHisLightsaberOkay? AndAnd, ItFeelsLike, LikeHeWantsMeToUseItOkay? iHaveDarksaberExperienceBut, ButItDoesntFeelEnough?”

Chuckling, Ahsoka replied. “All right, okay, slow down. Does the lightsaber call to you?” Sabine’s face changed, as if digging deeper into memory than she was used to, then nodded “Yes.” Smiling, Ahsoka proposed a solution. “I may not be able to train you as a Jedi, but I’m more than willing to train you how to connect and wield a lightsaber. Especially one as connected to you as a parting gift from family.” 

—

One and a half years after the Ignition

Two Jedi were meditating together. If you had told either of the them two years earlier that they’d be meditating with their wife, neither would’ve believed you. For Sabine, the idea of meditating was far-fetched, much less meditating with someone else. “Been there, tried that” had been her mantra when it came to the Force. Shin had no such misgivings. Steeped in the Jedi traditions of her master, she had a deep connection to the Force. But a wife? She had never fallen so deeply in love as she had with Sabine. The taunting of enemies had become a teasing between lovers so subtly that she had barely noticed the change. The more they competed, the more compelled to each other they had felt. And now their spirits were intertwined, feeling the air and the water and the beskar and the trinitite around them together, a small pocket of a thriving world. 

But Sabine sensed some nagging doubts in her wife’s mind. “Cyar, what’s wrong?” A simple question that could be answered as simply or complexly as Shin needed. 

The question was unexpected. Shin didn’t think that those feelings were notable for even a Jedi to sense. But if anyone was good at reading people, it was her wife; an abnormal Jedi whose strength arose in relationships and attachments. “I love how we’re teaching each other. I really do. But…I think I need to find a Padawan of my own. Like you and Grogu.” 

“Waitwaitwait, Grogu isn’t my padawan. He’s just…” Sabine tried finding the right word, but the implication of being a traditional Jedi had short-circuited her. 

Shin decided to fill the space. “Baby, the Dins practically live at our apartment now.” Sensing her wife’s defensiveness, she pivoted. “We can call your mentor-student relationship something different, if you want. But I would like to also be teaching someone new. I think the Galaxy can use more Jedi.”

The ideas started solidifying for Sabine. “Are you suggesting we start a new Jedi Order?” A small smile and nod came from Shin. Sabine started brainstorming out loud, her preferred method of planning. “I think we can do that. It would still have to be Mandalorian. I don’t think I can disentangle my heritage from my training. Which means family and relationships would be allowed and encouraged.”

A laugh emerged from Shin, “Well I certainly wasn’t planning to be hypocritical. I definitely want to be your riduur.” She kissed her wife, with all the feelings of love and support she could offer. “But we would need a temple. We can’t just have everyone in our apartment.”

Sabine remembered something Ezra had found. “Temples tend to be built around vergences in the Force. What about that small one Ezra and Jacen discovered? Were you able to learn anything about it?” After her brother and nephew found an anomaly, she and her wife occasionally visited, trying to understand what and why it was, but Shin was also researching historical documents to learn more. 

“I think it was Tarre Vizsla’s childhood home. Something about his connection to both the Jedi and Mandalore left a small knot in the force there.” Shin understood the immense irony of starting an order where you didn’t have to choose between Jedi and Mandalore at the place where that choice was first made. “Do you think the Vizslas will give us any trouble for wanting to use one of their family’s homes as a Jedi temple?” 

“Didn’t the old Jedi Temple have a massive library? If we established our own library there dedicated to preserving Jedi and Mandalorian history, and made it open to everyone, maybe they would see the temple as an honor to their family and not a desecration.”

—

“Stars, I really need more advisors.” Bo-Katan sat on her throne-turned-conference-seat, exhausted from the sheer amount of decisions she had to make. Her beloved Armorer was willing to advise, but even she looked to the Manda’lor for final decisions. A younger her, the one that joined Death Watch, would’ve relished in the power. But now the weight of tradition was starting to crush the Duchess, and most people were unwilling to share the burden if they couldn’t have all the power for themselves. 

Footsteps approached the old throne room. “You’re stressed.” A woman in purple and teal walked thru the doorway. “I would ask if you have time for me, but I know you’re ani’ures’hukaan”

Bo-Katan snorted, “trying to Jetii’layari?” She had been friendly with some Jedi for years, but occasional caf meetups with Ahsoka was very different from multiple self-avowed Jedi running around on Mandalore. Even as she grew more accustomed to them (Sabine was a family friend, after all), most of her people were still unsure. Whether it was traditionalists who opposed Jedi on principal, the remnants of her sister’s faction who hated their hypocrisy, or the select few who were close enough to think the Jedi could’ve helped during the purge and didn’t. 

“No, you accidentally sent me your entire schedule for the next week and it’s booked.” Sabine hoped she could ease some of the stress Bo-Katan was under, so showing off her Jedi skills wasn’t an option. “How did this not happen when you were governor all those years ago?” 

The older woman sighed, “You might be too young to remember, but we used to have an elected assembly. We had a council and a prime minister, the duchess never ruled alone.” She tried to not feel hurt while remembering her sister. “Gar Saxon and the Empire destroyed all that. We never knew peace afterwards. We had to function purely as a military, and look where that got us.” Her souring mood would’ve been evident to anyone, but she knew Sabine could feel the deeper despair. “Even now, everyone looks to me like I’m their general and not their duchess.” She felt two hands on her shoulders and another forehead press against hers.

“Hey, hey, hey, ner vod, you’re fighting too many enemies alone.” Sabine could tell Bo-Katan was surprised by her physicality, but not opposed. She reached out in the Force, not to communicate, but to build a sanctuary where Bo-Katan could feel safe while vulnerable. 

She felt safer the longer Sabine remained. “I want to do the most I can to rebuild Mandalore, but the more I succeed, the more work there is.” For some reason, it was now easier to rummage thru her feelings. “I love Mandalore and I love that we have so much history and I’m scared that if anyone else tries taking over they’ll try ignoring all of that in favor of their personal vendetta.” Tears started silently dripping out of the corners of her eyes as she tried to catch a breath. “Stars, why am I crying over this?”

The younger woman heard that thought loud and clear, but tried to craft a response that wouldn’t come off as knowing-too-much. So she produced a small handkerchief from a belt pouch and offered it to Bo-Katan with, “it’s okay to be overwhelmed with running an entire planet.” She watched as Bo-Katan wiped away her own tears, then continued. “I find it helpful to meditate; to clear my thoughts and refocus my energy, both at the beginning and end of the day. Even the middle sometimes.” When Sabine saw the older woman’s grimace at the thought of doing something Jedi, she added, “this isn’t just sitting, legs crossed, connecting to the Force. It’s also spending time free from distractions, like target practice alone. Ahsoka and her master often meditated by tinkering with machinery. I’m willing to bet the Armorer achieves a similar state of mind while smithing. It’s all about letting go of your conscious self and acting on instinct.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” mused Bo-Katan as she relaxed back into her throne. “That’s nice, but I only have a finite amount of time in the day. Do you have any suggestions for my practical needs? Not just my spiritual ones.”

Sabine understood the gravity of Mandalore’s situation, and considered how similar it was to the Rebellion. “Elections for an assembly would take a while to set up. Why not start with a council of the heads of each clan?” She realized, too late, that this would mean more responsibility for her. “Then we build a consensus on how an assembly would run.” She glanced at her chrono, and saw her meeting with the Vizslas was fast approaching. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your work.”

“Hang on you can’t just come in here, listen to me pour my heart out, and walk out!” Bo-Katan was now shouting at the unexpected departure.

Sabine retorted from across the room, “Actually Duchess, I can!” 

“Once a rebel, always a rebel I guess,” Bo-Katan sighed, before realizing she had no idea what Sabine was up to. “Wait, why did you come here in the first place?” 

“Shin and I are planning on starting a Jedi temple, just wanted to let you know!” The doors to the throne room closed behind her.

“Stars, she’s gonna be the death of me.”

—

Deep in the Unknown Regions

A Mirialan man was strapped to a hospital bed. His blood was slowly being drained for Imperial research. He bore stitches where large tissue samples had been taken. His only hope was that his longtime friend would be able to find him before it was too late.

—

Mando’a Glossary: Cyar: love Riduur: spouse Ani’ures’hukaan: in over your head. This one I spent a lot of time on, because it really wouldn’t make sense for a Mandalorian to say “swamped” because there are no swamps on Mandalore. So I figured “exposed during a fight” would make sense, so this is literally “completely without cover” Jetii’layari: showing off Jedi powers, lit. “Jedi-swagger” Ner vod: “my friend/sibling”

[incarnateirony]

https://twitter.com/xmenupdate/status/1686578029051420672?s=46&t=eTIYBJflezjsZxlN-TlYeQ

FUCKIN WHEEZE

OH, YEAH. let's start with this wonderful grammar "There has been a number of reports regarding assistants and stand-ins that have been credited on IMDb a number of Marvel Studios projects recently including Halle Berry & Famke Janssen for ‘DEADPOOL 3’."

Then we click the thing:

Everything else hidden, but sure. Okay leaky person cut on a discord background, this has NOTHING to do with how easy it is to edit IMDB, AMIRITE????????

THIS one was golden though, this one right here when any fact check was begun:

A bunch of these just look like guesses, like back in like May Halle Berry was sporting white hair and everyone assumed it was to be Storm again in Deadpool and fans went everywhere speculating.

Jared's fans have been pitching 238492384 marvel things for him to be every year for ten billion years. Gambit off the top of my head as the most recent one I recall. A list of returning GotG members because duh. Several names like Froy Gutierrez that were floated for shit like Marvel's Young Avengers on fanpages. One of these is a guy with like, NO history WHATSOEVER beyond being on CW Charmed for a few episodes (6) and then a few on night court, and isnt even in the top 5000.

Stinks of fan wishlist passed as rumor, originating off of some cross Marvel/CW fan. I mean, if Talik is managing to rocket from bit actor obscurity in the 15,000 range to being some yet unconfirmed character, all power to him, but sorry, this smacks of lmfao. It's a bunch of like fan observations of the obvious from 2 months ago (storm), CW people (Someone was a Charmed & Supernatural fan), and shit the Marvel community went "OOPS LMAO THAT'S WRONG" like Janelle Monae already:

Page was put up same time as the tweet according to google deleted in the last day, and the tweet was posted yesterday. Lmao bruh.

Like if Jared finally gets his first voice acting role of some rando XMan like 4 years behind the jackles curve, good for him I guess? Like marvel going, DC got jensen, who was That Other Guy? Given this is just a Special like holiday specials, so it'd be like one episode.

On the other hand you're going to need more than someone blatantly trying to run a list while anyone can edit the source. You think Marvel's gonna announce it like that? AH yes we hide everything even the title, and the stars, but leak the assistants. On multiple shows. NOTHING ELSE, NOT EVEN A TITLE THERE, NO RELEASE DATE GIVEN BUT WE GOT THE RANDO ASSISTANTS *SQUARED* cuz *LOGIC* But yeah, cool. Jared Padalecki As Knockoff Voice For Some Character In One Off Holiday Special Or Shortrun Webseries Some Shit For Character/Series Zero Of the Jpeg Stans Care About.

Please take your Fangasm induced and boosted nonsense out of my inbox.

Add in, be real careful holding your breath even if it IS real. Kevin Feige is listed as producting and Iger was just talking about him being "spread too thin" and dilluting their product. He's named streaming as the problem and opened fire purging products from Disney+ even before the strike. Just outright brake pump on output of Disney+ stream content. Now, they HAVE had problems with integral marvel stars recently

Why would this come out during a strike nobody is working, no less???????? Before the strike they hadn't even sorted directors or anything??????? Are you saying Jared, what, accepted the role during strike?????????? or... kept his mouth shut without a single hint for half a year????????? JARED????????????????

OH AND THIS

Also??? Jared's supposed assistant is uh. well i mean. i support immigration. But it's Real Weird that if you google him and Force It To English Results, there's 3 mentions; one this imdb listing, one bot garble nonsense, and one his application to go to college in california this spring while listing also moving into the country this march (actually with how he fucked up the US MM/DD/YY format for his birthday... this april??). So like. IDK man. Smells real fuckin sus. He wouldn't pass marvel vetting to be a janitor with that status.

Love the MULTIPLE errors on here. Class act

[amaranthhiding]

A Metal Pursued by the Witless is FINISHED!

(Yep, you read that right. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s done. I posted all three final chapters in one go.)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43389420

Pairings: Sam/Rowena Rating: Explicit Words: 46,557 Chapters: 11/11 Tags: Adventure & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Action, Humor, Magic, Witchcraft, Curse Breaking, Travel to Exotic Location, Soft Rowena, Protective Sam, Protective Rowena, Mutual Pining, Sam POV, Rowena POV Prompt: SPN RarePairTober 2022 day 19 prompt “Fool’s Gold” Summary: Rowena shows up at the bunker after she has been targeted by a lethal curse with the sole goal of destroying her. Under the shadow of this ticking timer of doom, she and Sam are left with a handful of days to prevent a slow, painful death. The search for a cure sees them on a last-minute flight to Central America. (Or my attempt to escape the cold and gray of real-life winter by traveling to faraway places in my mind.)

Cover created by the author [The hidden jaguar silhouette in the image above is taken from silhouettegarden.com.]

Excerpt of chapter 9 under the cut:

For several long seconds, the silence was broken by nothing but the low hum of magic near the stairway. Then she heard something like a cough, certain it stemmed from the opening in the ground. Oh, bloody Hell. She really had to crawl over there in the most undignified manner, didn't she? At least the Coven wouldn't bear witness. That small reserve of strength she'd found somewhere inside of herself was used up like nothing as she pulled herself through the grass. Despite her own labored breaths, she tried to listen intently so that she wouldn't miss any further sounds from below. Her body seemed to consist of nothing but pain at this point and she just wanted it to stop, to receive a single moment of peace so that she could catch her breath again. But alas, she was well aware there were only two possible paths out of this for her, and one of those ended in Hellfire. The other… She heard a quiet splash, somewhere deep down in the darkness of the lower level of the ruins, followed by another cough. And then a breathless call of her own name, tinged in enough desperation that it touched that frozen spot inside of her which she'd only recently discovered was still alive. If she hadn't made up her mind already, she surely would have now. After one last glance at her dead nemesis who had so kindly shown her the way, she thought, 'To Hell with it all,' and rolled herself over the edge of that dark opening with all the elegance of a felled tree. As she dropped through the air rapidly, she thought that if Sam did even so much as hint again that he didn't have her trust, she'd forever remind him of this moment. Cold water broke her fall none too gently, causing new pain to surge through her body. The waves of her impact crashed down on her, surrounding her from all sides and pulling her deeper, ever deeper. Having lost all sense of direction, she struggled weakly in the doomed attempt to swim with a body that had given up on her. As water rushed into her lungs, she thought that maybe she should have chosen Hellfire after all. Then she felt an arm around her midsection that steered her back to the water surface where she coughed and wheezed for air even more vehemently than before. Sam's body was warm in the cold water, giving her a focal point as she got her bearings, blinking against the drops splashing into her face. Read the full story on AO3. @spnrarepairbunker

[alexandriteobscuraarchive]

@guardianofyesod continued from here

He notices the blood more than anything else---it was almost neon in the dark and he could hear it slap against the side of the vardo like so much wasted paint---and then he’s running. No, he’s charging. There’s an almost deafening crunching sound as Kariom’s fist---with all of his CONSIDERABLE SPEED AND WEIGHT BEHIND IT---connects with the side of the sahash’s head and sends him flying only to land face first into the dirt and then roll a few more times before lying still. The star-reader doesn’t stop either; he merely dislodges some of the blood and shards of teeth that clung to the skin of his still balled fist with a flick of his wrist before facing the other two assailants. No matter what he’s ready; with feet planted firmly and teeth bared, he’s ready.

“Come on then...! What? Not keen to fight someone who’ll actually fight back---!? You’re only good for it if you attack a defenseless sahash as a group, huh!? COWARDS! BLOODY COWARDS!!” The half-blood closes the distance between himself and the other two campers with an agility that makes them flinch; a reaction that he uses to his advantage: Kariom uses their reaction and his momentum to, at the very last second of his new charge, turns and slams his shoulder into the sahash standing closest to him causing him to stagger backwards even further. The blow is hard enough to almost knock him off of his feet---but almost wasn’t good enough, not after what they did to his partner---and so the half-blood rights himself and jabs forward, his fist slamming into the other’s windpipe with a sickening swish of air. The sahash gargles, maw falling open as he falls backwards into the bloodied dirt. Oh, whatever happened to not getting into scraps, shantow? Whatever happened to ‘making friends’? There’s another choked noise--this one wetter than the last, this one full of spit, blood and bile---as Kariom slams his foot down on the recently grounded sahash’s gut as he makes his way towards the last one standing.

If the circumstances were different---if the conflict hadn’t been brought about by HARMING HIS PARTNER---Kariom might even find it in him to respect this fellow for not running away but no. No force could stop him now, not when his blood was up. Not when Roui’s blood had been shed for all of this. No, all this worthless beast gets for his HYPOCRITICAL BRAVERY---with flattened ears and snarling countenance, with fear and aggression fighting a losing battle that he never had a chance to win in the first place, not now or ever, and certainly not against Kariom--- is a snarl right back; with the half-blood’s eyes blazing out at him from behind blood smeared glasses.

But this last charge is different: his hands are open and instead of knocking him out cold like his brethren when Kariom’s hand flashes outwards he grabs the other by the neck and slams him down into the dirt only to then lunge downwards after him. he doesn’t care if this leaves him open---rage is driving him forward just as shock is inhibiting his foe---and there’s a kind of pleasure in seeing the sahash’s eyes widen and drift towards his periphery as Kariom’s remaining fist slams down into the dirt just inches from the side of his head. The half-blood has the other male pinned and his grip around the other’s throat tightens to an excruciating level as he hauls his head upwards, making sure they were nose to nose, making sure he wouldn’t miss a single word. This would be his one and only warning.

“Listen to me, jezerato, are you listening..?!” Kariom squeezes---squeezes hard enough that the whitening of his knuckles shows in spite of the blood coating his hands---and only continues when the other wheezes, “If you ever touch Roui again---IF YOU EVER TOUCH MY PARTNER AGAIN---and I don’t care if it’s the smallest brush in the world, I’LL MAKE YOU WISH THAT THE MAD ROOK WAS ACTUALLY HERE. I’ll make you wish for the worst possible creature to exist in the Flat to come crawling out of the woods in order to eat you because what I’ll do? What I’ll do will be so much worse than any of that. Never. Touch. Him. Again.” These last few words are emphasized by further strengthening squeezes from the hand locked around the other’s throat and then Kariom relents; merely dropping the other back against the dirt like some discarded toy, before straightening and making his way back towards Roui.

Now the hands moving forward are gentle---exceedingly so----as Kariom gathers up the crumpled, shivering male in his arms and presses him close so that the sahash feels secure. It was a little awkward but the adrenaline that had yet to subside made carrying him easier. If he were smaller Kariom could just hoist him over his shoulder but with their heights and, most importantly, his head being injured in such a way....

“YOU’RE SAFE NOW, Roui, so don’t struggle. We’re going back to the manor and I’ll take a look at you.”