Knives is such a hypocrite and a liar and he lies most of all to himself and i hate him but i also love it. Bro's so coked up on copium all the time.

Claims to be doing it all for the sake of Plants, then arguably takes away their agency and freedom way more than humans ever could. Claims to be doing it for his brother and literally ruins his brother's life in every possible turn. Claims humanity never learns from their mistakes and it literally takes dying for him to stop doubling down on his bullshit. the medical abuse done unto tesla horrified him so much and yet he is directly responsible to the same abuse being subjected to countless of children.

Given the chance, I would love to be his sleep paralysis demon. i do not think I could fix him, but I think I can drive him to early retirement from super villainy.

➤ doe ..

this was js sm i had in my notes, figured id try and post it 🤷‍♀️

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley + medic!reader

the feeling of having an animal's life in your hands was one you couldn't shake.

hunting made you uneasy. ending the beautiful pattern and cycle of another creature's life was something that would grow to eat away at your soul.

you were an impeccable opposite to most of the other people here.

now, that doesn't mean that the other's found pleasure in the act of killing- ending a life and simply moving on with your own.

many had simply grown numb to the feeling. but you knew that there were still a few that felt the same aching pain you did when you would imagine how easily a knife could cut through the delicate string that was life.

you'd seen it firsthand, too.

each of the lines on your palm had been soaked in the blood of another as you desperately grasped at every option to save this delicate string from snapping and shattering.

you knew a bullet to the heart was all it took for this to happen. but if it didn't, you wouldn't have a job.

you would heal rather than hurt. it filled the little gap in your body with something that felt like it could help the growing guilt you felt for every life you couldn't save. every family you indirectly broke.

in return, you grew to treasure the things you had now and not search for anything more than that. you were nurturing and warm, but yet so cold. no one could sneak in and make a place in your heart or your home or your bed. no one.

and just like that, you became a mystery.

you weren't scary or anything. not some looming mass of impending death and ill intent like other mysteries were. you were still kind and warm and everything a medic needed to be, but no one knew anything but that.

then you were hauled from your old post and thrown into the cesspool they called Task Force 141. your skill was highly recommended and appreciated by the captain--- Price, was it?

Garrick was the first of the group you let yourself attach to. he was easy to let yourself down with. with all his jokes and warm outer shell, he was a delightful man. easy to fall in love with too, if you wanted that. but you didn't.

each joke cracked your shell just a bit more.

Soap was next. despite the horribly ugly haircut and honestly repulsing stature, he was a good man and an even better friend.

then Price. he smelled of wood and cinnamon and it made your lips twitch up every time the smell filled your senses. his warm eyes and even warmer words to offer.

this group became your family. each and every one of them. each smile and each word that finally graced your lips was because of them.

it was like something had been opened and that little sliver of light slipped through and your team held it.

all except Ghost.

his eyes would never meet yours. never fully, at least. they would just burn behind that mask of his, simmering in their deadly and dark way. you had seen what he could do and had to deal with the aftermath of it.

but you had never dealt with him. he wouldn't let you heal him. he avoided you like you were the plague itself. but, why?

you had no fucking idea.

Soap would say it was because of how opposite the two of you were.

"the pair of you are like the sun and the fuckin' undertaker, i'm tellin' you." he would tell you. you merely shrugged in the way that you always did. (💀)

but he never stood beside you like the other's would. always in front of you, right there where he could see you.

he didn't think you fit in. not one bit.

like a deer in a pen of wolves. all eyes hoping to swallow you whole, all hands itching to touch what they can't. all of the sex-starved men dying to touch the newest doe in the woods.

you and your big pretty eyes...

you and your small demeanor and even smaller hands.

you and your pretty cheeks that would adorn the shadows of your eyelashes when the sun hit you right.

you.

and you were just a medic. many of the men would throw themselves in harms way or make up fake illnesses to see you. to feel you touch them as you would examine them.

it irked him. truly, it did.

because you were so goddamn fucking oblivious to it all. the way you willingly helped them and had no knowledge of the vile things they said about you in the halls and the barracks. (yikes.)

and you...

you left him be. you didn't press him, you didn't say anything to him without him talking to you first. you excepted the fact that he wanted nothing do with you.

...

it was getting warm again.

summer was creeping up around the corner, brushing her sweet fingers over the hills and across the forest rooftops, gifting the world with new lives. just like every spring did.

you creeped out from your room, your socks doing little to keep your skin from tingling against the cold flooring as you trudged into the main area. the team always packed in here on their days off.

after poking around with the coffee maker for a while, still unsuccessful at getting the coffee you needed, Price spoke up from his spot leaning against the counter.

"hey, ya' know that's broke, right?" he asked, his voice drawing a low groan of annoyance to slip from your lips.

"fucking really?"

"... yeah. Soap put water where the filter was meant to be." from their left, Soap let out a sharp gasp. "hey!" he tried, glaring back at Price. the older man tilted his head at the scott and shrugged.

"yeah. it was honestly pathetic to watch." that was a new voice.

you turned your head, feeling small in your sweater. you felt your own skin grow tight and this uncomfortable heat spread across your body. fuck.

your lieutenant walked in, mug in hand. he wasn't wearing his gear. no one was. they had a day off. a day of peace and normalcy, even if it was for a heartbeat.

your pulse thundered in your ears, the blood rushing through your body all at once as his cold eyes landed on you again. your eyes met his dead brown ones and you swear to whatever god is up there that his jaw twitched under his mask.

"oh fuck off, LT." was Soap's response. but his voice barely registered in your mind.

he didn't wear the skull mask this morning. only the balaclava. meaning; his upper half of his face was visible. but, of course, he wore that dreaded black hoodie and his sweatpants.

at least it wasn't his gear...

but he looked... human. and it hit something inside of you. "morning." your voice was small as it rasped out from your lips. his only response was a small nod, then he moved over to sit down across from Gaz.

"coffee?" Garrick asked, nodding towards the mug in Ghost's hand. the bigger man shook his head in response, his leg bouncing ever so slightly. "tea."

"of course." Soap scoffed from the other room. "you bloody brit's and your tea." you swallowed back a smile as all three of the other men groaned in annoyance.

"surprised you're not wearing a kilt, Johnny." Ghost sneered back, raising his eyebrows. Garrick snickered, taking a bite of his bagel. you let a soft laugh pass through your lips, the sound bubbling up like sweet honey as it filled the still air.

eyes.

there were those eyes again- burning into your skull and burrowing in your chest to heat your whole body.

you had laughed- at his joke. why did that make his pulse jump? it was a foreign and forgotten feeling under his cold skin.

then the eyes were gone. back on his tea and anything else but you. the fragile thing that you wear... hardly any muscle on your little body. only a pretty face and big, round eyes that anyone would say yes to if you pleaded with them.

it was as if you had no idea what you were.

and maybe you didn't.

but he sure did.

"leave him be, LT." Price said, waving a hand. "yeah, casper." you muttered, finding the strength to meet Ghost's eyes with your own. it was as if the world started to crumble under you, your body aching and burning and humming with your pulse.

"leave him be."

Ghost paused, his cheek twitching slightly.

"who the fuck is Casper?"

your brows furrowed slightly, head tilting like a deer's would when they heard something deep in the woods. "wha- who's casper?" you asked, a hand on your hip.

"Casper. the ghost? it's a movie, man."

"yeah.. not ringin' a bell, love."

even he noticed his slip. love. your skin went cold, then burst into flame all at once. your face felt hot and you felt the heat pound between your legs.

love.

love.

love.

love.

lov-

"you there, doc?" Soap's voice chirped in with its usual mocking tone. you swallowed thickly, trying to rid your mind of every thought the darkest corner of your brain churned up.

you straightened your lips into a tight line, hoping no one noticed the thoughts swimming through your brain.

Ghost shifted his hips up, his eyes half-lidded and dark as he pulled the mug to his lips as he pulled back his mask to drink.

his lips. oh my fucking god-

for a white guy, they weren't bad. there was a jagged scar that ran down one of them... the top one. a soft cupid's bow, the bottom was a bit bigger than the top.

imagine them running over your skin, leaving love marks to bloom across your skin like sweet memories... imagine them over your own, or over your jaw or your neck... or down your sternum---

you were staring, weren't you?

oh, yeah. yeah you were.

"doc?" Price's voice. "you catchin' somethin'?" he had asked. but you barely heard him as you tried to calm your breathing and tear your eyes away from the poor lieutenant.

"yeah i um... i jus' don't feel too hot. can i.. uh.. i'll just be-" you looked back at your room. "back. back there."

oh what the fuck was that, man?

perfect save, really. you fucking nailed that one.

a flurry of yeah's and okay's hummed out from their lips, a few worried glances passing your own.

when you were hidden behind your door again, the heat grew and grew and simmered and stayed there. it lingered and festered just as the memory of his lips and his eyes did.

and that was only the first 'incident.'

...

realizing so badly that im disabled but its in like such a way to where i literally am gonna get thrown to the wolves regardless so i just deal. like yeah most days im at like pain level 4 but we continue to live despite it all. 99% of the time my body is so tired id rather be in bed laying down in the dark forever but ive got shit to be doing so like yknow.

Look I knew from things my friend reblogged that you have A Gift but now I'm following you and crying every time you post because it is ALWAYS top quality and I am but a poor little goblin with Feelings. You are my favorite and I love you. (also "oh what a hairy valley it is" is fucking hilarious I laugh every time I read it)

You are my new favourite and I love you too! Especially because you find “oh what a hairy valley it is” funny. As thanks, I hope you like a bit of a twist on the Witcher Wolf Pack and their Bard in a modern setting.

Street life was harsh but the wolves had learned how to play the game over the decades. Witchers had become nothing more than myths and they had died out. Or rather, they faded from visible existence and found ways to get with the times. But nobody really wanted grizzly, musclebound men with facial scars so the wolves of Kaer Morhen were left behind by society. It wasn’t like they could get paperwork and ID needed for work and rent, so they lived on the fringes, accepted the ‘help’ of a sorcerer. It wasn’t much better, living on the streets as wolves most idiots mistook for large dogs. But at least they could slink around relatively undisturbed. They could shift forms as they needed but most of the time, they remained four legged.

They had a whole system worked out, honourable as much as thieves could be. Because they needed to steal, needed food and money to survive. The back alley that they’d pulled blankets and cardboard boxes to had become home. But they couldn’t live off things they fished out of the dumpster all the time. It was how they ended up with a range of schemes and ploys.

Easiest was the sad, scared puppy game. It was one that Lambert excelled at, looking vulnerable. If he rolled in a puddle first, he could look exceptionally pitiful. His scars showed up the least too and, as the youngest, he often got the most response. Some days he would hang around outside a food shop and whimper at those going in. The more generous humans would emerge with their shopping plus a little something for him. When something was thrown his way, Lambert would snatch it out of the air and run, hide the stash until he could haul his trophies home to share.

More elaborate was the teamwork of Vesemir and Eskel. They didn’t pull it off often because it was much more dangerous for them both. At some traffic lights where cars were slowing down, Eskel would step in front of a car and get clipped. He’d perfected the art of just getting a glancing bruise on his shoulder but it sounded impressive enough. Once the car stopped, Vesemir, in his grizzled old glory, would fling himself in front of the car with a whimpering howl. That usually got everyone’s attention, the poor old dog, shaking and quivering on the floor. It was enough of a distraction for Eskel to shift to human form and dive into the car, pulling anything of value out. They had to be so careful, not taking anything from those who obviously were in need. That was on top of the constant worry that Eskel could actually get hurt or Vesemir would get carted off to the pound. But the few times they did it, they often got enough things to pawn or, once, a shopping bag full of party food.

Geralt was too bulky to look sad in front of a shop, he got chased with a broom more often than not. He also didn’t have Eskel’s light fingers to steal from cars or Vesemir’s gravitas to look convincingly injured. What he could do though was pickpocket and steal bags. It was so easy to walk pad through a square, a stray dog nobody paid attention to. A snout in a passing pocket resulted in a mouthful of wallet. And the times someone put a bag down to look at their phone or, rarely, to pet him, he could pick up the bag and trot off without much fuss. The other thing Geralt did was trail buskers. He learned about them, knew those who were busking for fun and those who needed the coins tossed at them. Those who did it for a hobby, Geralt had no qualms about ambling up to and snuffling their things. It usually earned him a pat on the head and a laugh. It meant he could curl up with whoever it was playing and, at the end of their stint, Geralt could snuffled a little more under the pretence of curiosity. Nobody ever thought to look in his mouth to find the coins they could have sworn were there.

It was a great ploy until a new busker turned up. Geralt couldn’t get a read on him. The man looked and acted like a peacock but he smelled tired and hurting. Before Geralt could even approach him to investigate, the man was setting his instrument to the side and reaching out in invitation for Geralt to join him.

“You might need a bit of rest.” The man said and pulled a water bottle from his pack. Shoving his handwritten sign of gratitude from the plastic container, it was filled up with water instead. “It’s a warm day, I doubt there are puddles around for you.”

It turned out, the man chattered a lot when he wasn’t playing. He was called Jaskier, had no real family to speak of and loved singing. There was an art to speaking a lot without saying much and Geralt knew Jaskier was a master. In the evening, when Jaskier packed up, Geralt couldn’t bring himself to take any of his coin.

“If you’re ever in the area, you’ll always have a blanket to rest on with me,” Jaskier promised and waved to Geralt. It was only then that Geralt realised that not once did Jaskier touch him.

Once a week, Geralt sought Jaskier out. It was oddly relaxing and on his third visit, Geralt found he had actually fallen into a deep sleep, trusting this stranger to keep him protected. Of course, the others teased him about it relentlessly. Late at night when they were all sprawled in their alley with a rare treat of beer Eskel had managed to snag, they laughed about Geralt’s crush.

“Fine. You go see if you can do better,” he grumbled.

From then on, the wolves took turns and each came back suitably cowed. Eskel had taken the first chance to go see Jaskier for himself. He’d come back subdued and quiet. “He told be about his White Wolf,” he’d said. “How I must be his brother because I’m just as handsome.”

There was nothing handsome about Eskel, or so he thought. His scarring in wolf and human form had his lip pulled up and, as a wolf, he looked like he was continually snarling, teeth bared.

“He wasn’t scared,” Eskel whispered in wonder.

Unable to believe it all, Lambert went to see Jaskier next. He only came back late at night and refused to say anything. It was only later the next night that he whispered to Eskel that he’d tried to goad Jaskier into hurting him, to prove a point. And he got belly rubs instead. Which were a lot nicer than anything Lambert had experienced in a long time, so he had to slink off and think for a few hours before returning home.

Vesemir still had his doubts. His three pups might have been taken in by the singing stranger but he was suspicious. Determined to get to the bottom of their infatuation, Vesemir set out to spy on Jaskier. It didn’t go as well as planned because he was spotted and beckoned over. Even worse, there were freshly bought treats in Jaskier’s pocket, coming out to appease him.

“You look like you could be their father,” Jaskier prattled, handing over another treat. “The same noble, ancient look they’ve got. Living on the streets is no easy feat and I imagine you’ve done it your whole lives. But your pack seem wonderful. You ought to be proud of your boys.”

Vesemir would have thought it all some great, cunning plan were it not for the fact that he could smell the street on Jaskier. Obviously he’d been sleeping in hostels or the like until recently. And yet there he was with the best treats he could afford for a bunch of stray dogs who he knew to be wolves.

From then on, Jaskier enjoyed the company of a wolf beside him for four of the seven days of the week. Geralt slept on the blanket, running and eating in his sleep. By contrast, Lambert was needy, demanding attention and petting, constantly by Jaskier’s feet. Eskel liked to lie calmly and watch, sometimes he’d howl along and get laughs. Occasionally trotting off and coming back with a snack or a drink for them, clutched carefully in his mouth. The first time he presented Jaskier with a sandwich, he man had looked both scandalised and then blissed out as he bit into it like he was starving. Vesemir was by far the calmest, he watched Jaskier rather than the crowds around them, keeping track of how things changed.

“He sleeps on the streets,” he told his pups one night. “I worry for him.”

They couldn’t find Jaskier though, it was a large city and there were a lot of places to hide. By pure luck, they were settling down into a tangle of limbs, tails and fur when they heard voices.

“Just hand it over and you’ll live.” A menacing voice growled.

“I can’t give you that. It’s how I make what little money I have. I’ve already offered you everything I can!” That was definitely Jaskier.

“Along these parts, our word is law. You’ve not paid your dues and now we’re raising fees.”

There was the soft thump of someone being struck and the smell of blood. The wolves were up on their feet as one, quietly padding closer to investigate. Jaskier was on his knees, guitar behind him along with his usual pack which looked like it had been rifled through already. Opposite him were three men, one of them with a nail studded baseball bat.

“I think you need to be taught a lesson,” the man snarled and raised the bat. It arced through the air and there was the sound of it striking flesh and a sharp whine of a wolf in pain rang through the alley.

“What the fuck?”

Geralt was laid flat on the floor and panting, white fur staining red. The other three wolves were snapping and growling at the attackers while Jaskier knelt and watched in awe. Lambert jumped first, jaw latching around the wrist holding the bat and shaking his head.

In two minutes, the attackers were running, bleeding and cursing and the alley was silent save for the panting of the wolves. Eskel and Vesemir shared a look as they approached Geralt. They shifted, ignoring the gasp of surprise from Jaskier.

“You need to shift, pup,” Vesemir stroked over Geralt’s head. “Let us get a better look.”

It took a moment longer but Geralt was human once again and wheezing.

“Fuck,” he gasped, hands clenched in fists.

“Let them sort it,” Lambert murmured from just behind Jaskier, making him jump. “It’ll be okay. Geralt’s just a drama queen.”

“A drama queen with broken ribs,” Eskel grumbled. “At least the nails didn’t puncture his lung.”

In all of that, Jaskier was quiet and surprisingly unafraid. Puzzled, most definitely but he didn’t panic or run.

“Will he be okay?” he asked, soft and worried.

“He’s a strong one, survived a lot worse.” The reassurance from Vesemir lifted a little of the tension. “Why aren’t you running and screaming?”

“Why should I? You saved my life and you’re the wolves I’ve known for weeks now. It’s nice that you can talk back now.”

That seemed to settle matters somehow. And the wolves got a fourth act in their repertoire. Now, Jaskier sang and busked with the protection of a wolf by his side at all times. And, when he returned back to the alley, he always shared his bounty with the others.

“And when I get famous, you’re all coming with me. We’ll tour the world together,” he promised each night from the centre of the wolf pile. It usually earned at least one tail thump or a chuffed out wolf-y laugh. The wolves might have indulged him in such fantasies but they were the ones who had to eat their words. A talent scout did indeed pick Jaskier up. Along with his four wolves who became his bodyguards.

Part 2 here.

4 - “Do you trust me?”

link to ao3

first part on tumblr   previous part on tumblr

Once both men were awake enough, Borna told Steven of his strange encounter last night. Steven’s face grew more and more alarmed as the story progressed.

“You won’t believe this,” he slowly said, “but I also had a weird encounter last night and-” He stopped. “There was this woman, looking kinda how you said yours was looking, and in the end she gave me a huge tip, saying that both me and my friend could use some money.” 

“How huge?” Borna asked, brows furrowing.

Steven stood up, walked over to his jacket and dug out his wallet. “This big,” he said, showing Borna the hundred dollar bill.

“Fuck,” Borna swore under his breath. He took his phone, frantically going through his browsing history until he found a picture of Madam Reid. “Is that her?” he asked Steven, showing him the screen.

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely.

They exchanged looks. “How the fuck did she know we know each other?” Borna asked.

“Oh, shit.” Steven was staring at Borna. “You’ve already got a job interview with her company, right?”

Borna nodded. “Tomorrow. They were in an awful hurry.”

Steven collapsed on the couch. “What if they’re some sort of human trafficking ring?” he asked. “What if they’re with the mafia?”

“I think they won’t do anything after one interview,” Borna said. “Or I could just cancel.”

Steven nodded. “That would probably be the safest, yeah.”

Borna opened his phone, thumb hovering over the number that called him earlier in the morning. He sighed, putting the phone down. “But I’m curious,” he said. “Maybe one interview won’t be that bad.”

“Borna,” Steven pleaded.

“I can just decline afterwards.”

Their eyes were locked in a staring contest.

“If your kidney gets sold on the black market next week I won’t help you, I’ll just say that I told you so.”

Borna’s lips twitched into a smile. “Note taken.”

---

It took some digging through their shared wardrobes to find a presentable pair of trousers and a shirt for Borna to wear to the interview. Steven did have some semi-formal clothes, but Borna somehow felt like most of Steven’s patterned shirts were a touch too vulgar for the occasion.

“How do I look?” he asked, giving a little twirl.

Steven chewed on his lip. “Presentable,” he finally said.

Borna nodded. “I feel like a tuna fish in a can.”

“Meaning?”

“Stuffed, uncomfortable, about to be half-eaten, half-thrown away.”

“Having last minute jitters?” Steven smiled at Borna and clapped him on the back. “You’re gonna go there, snoop a bit during the interview, go home and tell them you’re actually going to Russia.”

Borna snorted. “Sounds good.”

They went to the building where the interview was going to take place together. It was a modern office building, fairly boring and unremarkable. The entrance had plaques of several different companies on the wall, Northwest Holistic Natural Remedies being among them.

“Well,” Steven said. “This is kinda anticlimactic.”

“What did you expect?” Borna asked him.

Steven shrugged. “Something more glamorous. Or completely rundown. I don’t know how human organ traffickers work.”

Borna elbowed him. “They’re not gonna sell my organs,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steven mumbled. He gave Borna one last look-over, fixing his hair a bit. “You’ve got this,” he said and patted his shoulder. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Borna walked in, going to the reception desk.

Steven stood for a few moments, looking after his friend, and left. There was no need for him to keep loitering and there were groceries to be bought.

---

Borna found the office that the receptionist directed him to. The doors were slightly open and the plaque on them said “Northwest Holistic Natural Remedies - Madam Reid.” He tentatively knocked.

“Come in,” said a voice.

He entered, closing the doors behind himself. A different lady was sitting behind the desk, looking at him expectantly. There was a sign on her desk that read “Natalie Adams, secretary.” The walls were decorated with various pictures of nature, keeping a cohesive theme. It was terribly bland, yet tasteful.

“Madam is already waiting for you,” she said, gesturing to the doors to the side.

“Thank you,” he said and walked in.

Now that office was a lot different. The furniture was darker, sturdier. Decor was still revolving around nature, but this was darker, feeling more like antiques rather than mass-produced photos printed on canvases. Behind the desk sat Madam Reid, as sharp and poised as the night he met her.

“Hello, Borna,” she said. “Please sit down.”

Borna obeyed, drawing the heavy leather-padded chair. “Good morning,” he said.

Her pronunciation of his name was miles better than what he was used to, though her decision to use his first name rattled him. Maybe she just didn’t want to deal with pronouncing my surname, he thought, suppressing an amused huff.

“It’s two in the afternoon,” she pointed out.

He chuckled awkwardly. “Had another night shift,” he explained. “Those tend to mess with perception of time.”

She nodded. “Understandable.”

“I brought my resume with me in case-” he started, but got silenced by a hand gesture.

“I think both of us know that that’s not why you’re here now,” she said, fixing him with her stare.

“Then what is it?” he asked. He grew hotter in his shirt and dress pants.

She took his hand, unbuttoning the cuff and rolled up the sleeve until the bite mark was fully exposed. “When was it?” she asked, examining the scar. “Three days ago? Four?”

“Four,” he answered. “Are you also a…” He trailed off.

“A lycanthrope, yes.”

“Okay,” he said, still staring at where she was holding his arm.

She rolled the sleeve back up, buttoning it. “We need to keep together,” she said. “Lone wolves don’t survive for too long.”

“Meaning?”

“There’s an organisation that I’m a part of,” she explained. “It connects people like us all over the continent. We could help you out with things.”

His brows furrowed. “What things?”

Madam Reid gave him a look that he’d describe as sarcastic if she was literally anyone else. “Money.”

“I can get by,” he protested. “I’ve got a job, I can pay rent-”

“You work the graveyard shift at the carwash and have to live with a roommate,” Madam interrupted.

Borna swallowed. “How do you know about my roommate?” he asked quietly.

“I met him the same night as you.” She smiled, but it just looked like a beast baring its teeth. “He is a very friendly man. You two spend too much time together, you smell like each other.”

“We smell-?”

She nodded. “It should come to you soon,” she said soothingly. “You’ll get used to it.”

Borna nodded, staring at his own hands, trying to process all the given information.

“Borna?”

He looked up.

Madam Reid was looking at him, features soft and relaxed. For the first time she didn’t look like she was about to swallow him whole, though her eyes stayed the same. “Do you trust me?” she asked gently.

“I don’t know,” he replied softly. “I think you’ve been truthful, but I don’t think I should trust you just yet.”

She leaned back in her chair. “Smart,” she commented. “Not the smartest, but admirable approach.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “I’ve got a proposition,” she said, leaning forward again. “On Friday we’ve got a meeting. I’ll have Natalie email you details and you can come see how things work for yourself. How does that sound?”

He took a moment to consider her offer. “Okay,” he conceded. “Maybe I’ll come.”

“That’s all I ask for.”

He slowly started getting up.

“And Borna?”

He looked at her.

“I don’t think I need to tell you to come by yourself, right?”

He shook his head. “You don’t.”

“Good.” She also got up, offering him a hand. “Hopefully we’ll see each other soon,” she said.

He just nodded wordlessly.

“Goodbye,” she said and then he was already through the door. The secretary gave him a friendly smile and a goodbye of her own as he exited the office.

---

“How was it?” Steven asked him when he got outside.

Borna took a deep breath. “She’s also, uh-” he gestured at the bite mark on his arm. “She offered help. She knew we live together because we smell like each other.”

“Wait, what?” Steven was staring at him, nose wrinkled, and mouth falling open. “We smell like each other?”

“Yeah, I know.” Borna sighed. “She said I should be able to… detect these things soon too.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah.”

They stood in contemplative silence for a few moments.

“We should go home,” Borna said and Steven nodded. He had his arms occupied with bags from the grocery store and he handed over one to Borna, who automatically took it.

---

He was working the night shift again. Again, he couldn’t understand why would a carwash service need to be open at such unholy hours. Again, he was reminded that the wealthy, the weird and the criminals were also paying customers.

So far he had to deal with only a few people that seemed a bit too inebriated to be anywhere near car keys. He did have to watch himself physically way more than usual, but the drunk were usually quite generous tippers and that night didn’t prove any different.

He had a long period of nothing, where he almost nodded off several, but the noise from the neighbouring gas station managed to keep him up. Then, just a one hour before the end, a car drove in.

---

Dorian’s phone rang. He groaned, looking at the caller’s ID. Three poop emojis were displayed on the screen. He groaned again, louder, then finally accepted the call.

“Hi, Gary,” he said. For a few moments he was quiet, listening intently. “Fuck,” he finally said. “A feral one?”

He got up from the couch and turned off the TV, which was showing some shitty horror flick. He sandwiched the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he started pulling on his pants.

“Yeah, give me ten min, I’ll be there. Bye.”

He disconnected the call, putting the phone down. He dressed up, sturdy, warm, practical clothes, and left the flat, remembering at the last moment to take his phone and wallet.

He rushed downstairs and walked briskly to the main street. A car was already waiting for him. 

“Move it,” Gary said, poking his head through the window.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dorian grumbled breathlessly. He sat down on the passenger’s side, fastening the seatbelt. The moment he was done the car peeled off the curb, making Dorian swear quietly, which in turn made Gary cackle.

The car sped through the streets, out of town to the forest road.

“Do you know where it’s supposed to be?” Dorian asked.

“Somewhere in the west,” Gary answered. “Near one farm, the owners complained about the cattle being killed.”

“Not regular wolves?” 

Gary shook his head. “The tracks didn’t fit, plus there’s been rumors of Bigfoot in the woods.”

Dorian snorted. “Of course that’s what they say.”

Gary shrugged. “Not that far fetched in comparison to the truth,” he said.

Dorian sighed. “Fair point.” He started rifling through his pockets for the cigarettes. “Sometimes I still can’t believe this is my life.”

“Yeah,” Gary said absent-mindedly. Then he noticed the cigarette pack in Dorian’s hand. “Hey, fuck off with that,” he grumbled. “No smoking in my car.”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “So sensitive.”

Gary glanced at him with a poisonous look. “Don’t you dare,” he growled.

“I can open the window.”

Gary puffed out an angry breath. “You won’t you-” He pawed at Dorian, trying to take away his cigarettes, when something collided with the car loudly, making Gary swerve and brake.

“Fuck!”

They stopped abruptly and jumped out of the car. There was a dark figure lying on the side of the road, whining loudly.

Gary glared at Dorian, who awkwardly stuffed his hands into his pockets. They tentatively approached the lump. Coming closer, it was visible that it was a sort of a wolf, only larger and as much as the moonlight permitted to see, with a different coat colouring.

It started snarling as they approached.

“I think we found our feral wolf,” Dorian said quietly and squatted down, facing the creature. Gary stayed a bit behind him, standing.

“We got you pretty hard, didn’t we?” Dorian asked quietly.

The wolf growled in response.

“I know, I know,” Dorian said soothingly. He got up and started taking off his jacket.

Gary groaned. “I’ll get the stuff from the car,” he said and left.

Once Dorian stripped off all his clothes he squatted down, tilting his face towards moonlight and began to change. His body grew, transforming into a lupine form, growing thick fur all over.

He slowly walked over to the hurt wolf, sniffing softly. The wolf whiled quietly, but let him close. Dorian carefully nuzzled the other one and gave the bloodied fur a few careful licks. Finally, he settled, laying down next to the hurt wolf.

Gary sighed. He had thick gloves on and a gun in his hands. “Dorian,” he said disapprovingly.

Dorian looked at him and just gave the wolf another gentle lick.

Cocking the gun, Gary took aim and fired.

With one last whine, the wounded wolf died.

Dorian slowly got up, nudging the wolf with his head, giving it a few small, affectionate licks, before leaving it, walking over to Gary.

“You know I don’t like shooting when you’re right there,” Gary said.

Dorian in between transformed back to human, panting slightly from the effort.

“He was so scared,” Dorian said. “And hurting.”

“We did hit him with a car,” Gary pointed out.

Dorian shook his head. “It was something from before,” he said. “We should take a look at the body before we get rid of it.”

“I’m not hauling a huge wolf back to the city for you to play a doctor,” Gary said. He went back to the car, putting the gun away. “Come help me get the covering, I don’t want blood all over my car.”

Dorian sighed and finished dressing up. Gary had a waterproof tarp in his trunk and they used it to protect the interior of the car before they dragged the cadaver into it. They had to put it on the backseats, the trunk of the car being too small to fit a grown werewolf.

After some more driving they found a muddy road through the forest. Gary parked in the undergrowth and they spent the better part of the night digging a large and deep enough hole.

Dorian wiped sweat off his forehead. “We deserve a bonus for all this,” he groaned.

Gary glared at him. “Like you’re doing that much,” he grumbled.

They were hauling the body out of the car now, Dorian desperately trying to carry an equal share, but he was mostly getting covered in blood seeping from the plastic while Gary was supporting most of its weight.

“Not all of us spend all the time in the gym,” Dorian bit back.

They finally hauled it to the grave and rolled out of the tarp, pushing it in.

“You put the tarp in, I’ll take care of this,” Gary said and started pushing the dirt onto the dead werewolf. Dorian nodded and started folding the plastic, trying not to get blood everywhere.

They were finished soon, getting back in the car. Dorian had the bloody tarp resting in his lap, clothes almost equally as dirty.

“You look like you showered in blood,” Gary said after a while. They were still driving through the forest.

“I kinda did,” Dorian replied.

“My car must look like shit.”

Dorian shrugged. “It’s just some mud.”

Gary huffed. “And blood too.”

“It’s just some bloody mud.”

---

The car was covered in more or less fresh mud, with a bump in the front that looked suspiciously bloody. Borna approached the driver’s window, squinting at the bright headlights.

“Good evening,” he said automatically.

“Do you guys have anything extra for mud?” the driver said.

Borna barely heard him, because in the passenger’s seat was an unmistakable figure.

Fucking hell, why Dorian covered in blood?!

Alarm must had been written on his face, because the driver laughed awkwardly. “We hit a wolf,” he explained. “Hauling one of those beasts off the road is a nasty business.”

Dorian met Borna’s eyes and quickly looked away.

“I see,” Borna said. “I could clean the dirt manually but it would take longer and cost more.” He tried not to stare at Dorian, who was very stubbornly pretending not to see him.

“Eh, I’ll just take the basic automated wash,” the driver said.

Borna nodded. “Okay.” He directed the car where to go, turning on the wash cycle. The overwhelming smell of the detergent finally overlaid the stench of blood, but Dorian’s blood-soaked image still danced in front of his eyes. Once the car was clean the driver paid, leaving a small tip and left. The entire time Dorian pointedly avoided Borna’s eyes.

Once they were gone from the station, Borna took his phone out, opening the text messages.

“what the fuck was all that??” he typed out, sending the message to Dorian. He leaned back on the wall, waiting for the response and staring at the clock.

Ok... my thoughts about the DLC. I played on hard, and the side story was INSANELY challenging, which was nice because I was craving that. That said... it was really short. They had a perfect opportunity to do playable Sothis and/or Rhea and DIDN'T, which I can't really wrap my head around. It could have only been for one or two maps (the last two) and I would have been satisfied! But nothing. I was kind of hoping for a new part 2 route based on the Ashen Wolves with playable Sothis/Rhea, but...

But no, that didn't happen. Then finally, in addition, neither Constance nor Hapi have marriages with F-Byleth, and there are no new marriages at all besides with those characters? I mean. I'm not happy. I get that Yuri can marry both Byleths but like. Make the others like that. I prefer playing as FByleth because I feel her eyes are more expressive but I can't marry who I want and thats stupid as hell. If this is the complete DLC, I dont think id recommend it to anyone else, honestly.

I’m actually glad we didn’t get a new part 2 route.  I feel like such a decision could’ve very easily been made to be the “peaceful” route, akin to Revelation, where it’s everyone getting to be happy, but is kind of stupid and badly handled.  So while it would’ve been nice for everyone to live, I feel like that would’ve thrown off the balance a bit.

As for the rest...under the cut.

My big issue is they didn’t explain much.  I was honestly hoping for more of an explanation on the how and what of Sitri.  Church route explains that Rhea made Sitri, but we get exactly no insight into exactly what she did or how that’s even possible.  I would have liked to get to know more about Sitri’s origins.  At one point, my guess for Sitri’s body in Abyss was that Rhea just kept the clones down there in her closet and Aelfric just happened to find one of them.

I love Rhea, don’t get me wrong, but I also feel like a lot of this route kinda backpedaled on the Church route exposition.  What I mean is, Church route has Rhea admit to creating human life, and mostly using it as a vessel for her mother’s return.  She doesn’t seem to care much beyond that.  Even Byleth, ultimately, is meant to be a house for the progenitor god, who she ultimately attempts to erase by having Sothis reincarnate in them.  It’s really not a flattering picture for Rhea, who honestly seems really corrupt and selfish in that moment.

Ashen Wolves instead presents this idea that she really cared a lot about Sitri, and was upset at her passing, so much so that she preserved the body in Abyss.  That...doesn’t really line up with what we know of Rhea, as it applies to the vessels she prepares.  I’m all for Rhea actually being nice, and being kinder than most people seem willing to give credit for, but this route felt like it too that almost too far in the direction of “Rhea is innocent.”  Sure, okay.  She really loved Sitri so much that Sitri was like a daughter, and that’s definitely why she kept the body perfectly preserved.  That seems very believable from the person who is currently trying to have us destroyed to bring back her mother.  I guess the parallels with Aelfric are cool, but eh.  There’s a lot that didn’t feel perfect in this route.  I did hear someone on Twitter claim it was Conquest levels of dumb, but I don’t really agree.  I think it was ultimately fine, it just didn’t address the things I’d hope for, and mostly focused on Aelfric’s dick inadequacies.  I went into this hoping for more depth on mysteries within the main game, but instead we got something...completely unrelated, and it’s not bad but it’s not entirely what I had wanted.

I think deep down, I was hoping for what would never happen, which is for anyone to just say Morph or Quintessence.  I know that wouldn’t happen, but the dragonkin are called Nabateans.  Nabateans.  Nabata.  Tell me this is related to Elibe, dammit.  I don’t care how, just do it.

As for gameplay, it was...fun?  I have a lot of thoughts but I’ll stick with two.  One is, reinforcements on these maps suck.  They’re obnoxious and awful and I hate them.  The map conditions are unique and fun, and there are certain conditions that prioritize moving your ass forward rather than trying to just tank out, which is a good way to make use of characters who aren’t Edelgard and Hilda.  I just feel like certain maps went way, way too heavy on reinforcements as a thing, and it really bogged it down.  The DLC is overall pretty short, but some maps felt like an eternity with this dumb shit.  Also Yuri pulls a “set the town on fire to protect it” move by having Hapi summon a bunch of monsters when we’re down to the last three enemy units.  Thanks buddy, that...that’s good thinking there.

The other is that I...actually love the pre-set classes and everything.  I get that people like customization, and the lack of the weapon triangle facilitates that by ensuring no one’s completely fucked because they made an army of Wyvern Lords and Gremories.  But...what’s stopping you from making an army of Wyvern Lords and Gremories?  They’re categorically the best classes, why do you need anything else?  I feel like the lack of weapon restriction alongside the lack of a weapon triangle allows you too much freedom, and it results in a lot of the core gameplay being kinda...less involved.  Skills aren’t that strong, no weapon triangle, no weapon restrictions on your units, double magic casts means you literally never think about running out because there’s so many...the challenges of the game start to become “I can one-shot anything from anywhere because Meteor or Thyrsus,” or “I’m going to bait these enemies out with my godwall, who will tank exactly 100% of all threats with no issue because nothing can stop them.”  It’s not really as fun.  I like to play for stats, but I also like the knowledge that no pure stat wall is going to body the game if you’re not playing smart in most cases.  I feel like Three Houses doesn’t have that.  A unit with strong mixed defense and good attack basically faces no issues at all.  It makes the main game even more of a chore.  I appreciated Ashen Wolves for locking in your base stats, your class option, etc.  But at the same time.  Callie played it and I directed, yet I have no desire to play it myself now.  Because...nothing’s going to be different.  I can’t use different characters for different purposes, and without the customization aspect of the main game, that means there’s...basically no reason to replay it.  I like having things overall be a bit more set, but as a side-story where all characters are deployed, it lacks variety.

All that to say, I kinda agree?  Like, the DLC pack really feels like it’s more for the characters and classes added to the main game.  Which is 100% fine with me.  I am all about Dark Flier Lysithea and will never give this up.  Also Constance best girl, it’s bullshit she’s not a bi option.

Abraham - A RDR2 Fanfic

Fanfic summary [NO SPOILERS]: Lyle Morgan and his eleven-year-old son have a conversation about Beatrice’s death, only for the boy to witness a second one.

Warning(s): Mild language

Author’s note: Bear with me if not everything in this story is correct. I’m not entirely sure where Arthur’s originally from (all I’ve heard is that he’s from somewhere in the north), so I just made something up lol. Also, this fic will only be one part. Anyway, hope you enjoy :)

From Lyle’s POV

A FOREST SOMEWHERE IN MONTANA

SUMMER, 1874

Strollin’ through the tall, thick grass, I led my mount around the forest at a casual pace while my son sat on top, consumed by his journal as always. It was an hour or two before midday, and right now, there was a radiant blanket o’ sunshine bathing the entire forest, painting everything with a golden tint. It was beautiful, and I wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day out here...but this feeling of annoyance just wouldn’t stop naggin’ me, and I knew exactly why.

I briefly glanced over my shoulder, peering at my son as he scribbled something down in the weathered pages of his journal.

A quick sigh escaped me.

I didn’t know who the hell Arthur got his interest in art from, or why Beatrice even bothered buying him that book, but that child just couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from it. Every time I came across the boy, he was always scratchin’ down some fantasy world of his, or creating images of a utopia I ain’t ever seen. It was pointless.

He spent more time daydreamin’ in that book than he did playing outside, or hunting, or fishing -- hell, he didn’t even know how to read -- and yet, Beatrice seemed perfectly content with it.

Or at least...she did.

Beatrice weren’t around no more. She was killed by bandits a few months ago. Robbed. Left on the side o’ the road for the crows to feed on. But Arthur didn’t know that. Sheriff told him it was a wild animal that took her. A wolf, to be exact. And he believed him.

I dragged a hand down my face, suddenly feelin’ exhausted just thinking about it.

Had I done the right thing, not tellin’ Arthur the truth about his own mother’s death, I wondered? I figured the kid didn’t need to know the morbid details, or even the entire truth, but I still felt like a piece of shit for not revealing the full story -- especially considering that them bandits who killed Beatrice...killed her ‘cause of me.

I had stolen something from them. Somethin’ valuable. And before it fell into their dirty hands, that “something” apparently belonged to a rich plantation owner who really wanted it back. Ended up gettin’ one of the bandits hanged, and left them thirsty for revenge. But they didn’t have the strength to go after the plantation owner. So, they came after me instead.

They chased me for quite a while. They chased me across the mountains, across the swamps, across the goddamned snow...until finally, they came to their senses and realized there were much better, more convenient ways of hurtin’ me. And thus, their paths diverted to my wife and son.

Those bastards managed to corner her while she was ridin’ to town to do some shopping. Found her on some secluded road between here and the nearest settlement, and ensured she would never return. That was when Arthur went lookin’ for help to find his missing mother hours later, and the sheriff assured him a wolf had gotten to Beatrice.

Christ. I really was a terrible father, weren’t I? Not only did I pay more attention to a bottle o’ whiskey than my own wife, I had also neglected Arthur for years on end, and indirectly gotten his mother killed. And the boy was only eleven.

He had spent half of his life not knowing a damned thing about where his daddy was, or even what he did, only to lose the one parent he already had before he could find out.

Lord...there had to be some way to make this up to him.

I looked back at the boy, suddenly feeling an urge to say something -- anything -- to him.

“Arthur,” I called out, catching the kid’s attention as his head perked up from behind the journal’s pages, “put that damned book away for a moment, will you?”

The boy hurriedly marked his place in the journal with a pen and shut it closed, resting the object on the saddle’s surface as he hung his head low in shame.

“...Sorry, sir.” He murmured.

I shook my head, lettin’ out a concerned breath.

“You spend far too much time in that journal. It was a mistake to buy it.”

Arthur’s eyes wandered to the trees towering around us.

“I’m sorry, dad,” he apologized timidly. “But I like drawing.”

I scoffed. “Yeah? Well, I like Poker. But I ain’t got time to play it. Too busy worryin’ about survival, and keeping the both of us fed. You can’t always do what you want, Arthur. You gotta provide. Things like drawing, gambling...they’re frivolous. We got better things to worry about.”

The child quirked a brow. “Friv-uh-less...? What’s that mean?”

“It means we don’t need to do it,” I explained. “What we do need, however, is to eat. So put that journal away and keep an eye out for deer. You was the one who suggested we come out here in the first place.”

Arthur frowned in a discouraged manner. “Yes, sir.”

I gave him a stern nod. “Good boy. Now...you said you seen a big buck out here?”

The boy pointed ahead. “Yeah. It was by the river.”

I gave the reins a little tug, urging my horse to follow me. “Then that’s where we’ll start. C’mon, Boadicea.”

Continuing our little hunting trip, Arthur and I traveled deeper into the lively woods as creatures of all types scurried around us, rustling blades of grass and alerting the tiny insects that hovered above the plants.

There was a rather peaceful mood to the forest today -- a welcome change considerin’ how chaotic my life usually was -- and I had to admit: some part of me enjoyed being here with Arthur. I rarely ever got to see the boy because of my work as an outlaw, and when I did, he always seemed reluctant to leave the house. Whether that was because he was more of an indoors person, or simply ‘cause he weren’t eager to spend time with me -- I didn’t know. But it was good to be with him regardless.

Approaching the large river, I came to a temporary halt as I crouched down and examined the ground, carefully searchin’ for any tracks that could’ve possibly led us to the buck.

The area here appeared undisturbed -- save for the fish flopping in and out of the babbling water -- and as far as I could tell, there weren’t no deer running around this section of the forest. Not at the moment, anyway. Maybe they were at a different part of the river.

I took a closer look at the grass, only to be torn away from my thoughts when Arthur raised a question.

“Dad?” He asked softly. “Can I...can I ask you something? About momma?”

I paused, thrown off-guard by the sudden change in tone.

“Momma?” I repeated, slowly turning towards the boy. “Why you wanna talk about her?”

Arthur’s expression sank with sorrow.

“It’s just...you knew her better than I did. Or longer, I guess. And I don’t remember her that good. ...Do you?”

I gazed at him in a puzzled manner, admittedly still a bit taken aback by the abrupt question.

“...Clear as day,” I replied, unwilling to sift through the painful memories. “But that don’t matter. She’s...she ain’t coming back, Arthur. No one does, once they die. Ain’t no point in lingerin’ in the past when it can only haunt you. All we can do is move on. You understand?”

Clearly a bit hurt by my response, Arthur dropped the subject and averted his eyes from me, peering over at a nearby gathering of flowers instead.

He slouched despondently. “...I understand.”

That wasn’t good enough for me. I took a step towards him.

“Look at me when you say that, Arthur,” I demanded. “It’s important you look people in the eye when you speak to them.”

The boy brought his line of sight back to me, his face veiled behind a very subtle layer of fear.

He straightened his back a bit. “I understand.”

I nodded in approval. “Good. Now...let’s get back to huntin’ this buck. You sure it was around the river?”

Arthur gazed around. “I saw it this morning when I was playing with Copper,” he confirmed. “It was drinkin’ water right here. That’s when I came to get you.”

I observed the dirt underneath me, squinting my eyes as I searched for clues. The grass in these parts was quite thick, so that made it even tougher to spot fur, or dung -- and I still didn’t see any deer tracks -- but it certainly looked like another animal had been around here.

I kneeled down, shuffling the grass outta the way with my hand.

“It looks like some wild horses might’ve passed through this area,” I examined. “But no sign of deer. Oh, well...the day is still young, and we have some time, so we’ll keep looking.” I gestured to a nearby bridge. “Let’s try over there.”

Grabbing my horse’s reins, I continued to guide it through the woods as Arthur scouted the area for me, his big blue eyes scanning the sharp horizon while the sun escalated in the sky. There was a certain determination in his temperament now, and the longer we carried on trying to locate this buck, the more my son seemed to be enjoying himself.

Perhaps there was hope for us, after all.

“...Dad?” The boy called again, making me flick my eyes to the side. “What if there are wolves out here?”

I encouraged him to stay calm. “Now, don’t you go worryin’ about that. If we see wolves out here, we’ll be fine. We’re armed, we’re fast, and we’re smart.”

Arthur wasn’t convinced. “...Momma was smart.”

I sighed in a melancholic tone at that. “Yes...she was. But...Momma was killed by a different type of wolf.”

He tilted his head in a puzzled manner. “What d’you mean?”

I gestured to my rifle. “Not all wolves are the same, Arthur. Some use their teeth, some use their guns, and some use their tongue. You gotta be able to identify them when you see ‘em.”

The kid didn’t say it flat out, but I could tell he knew what I was really talkin’ about.

“Those sound more like people.” He replied. I let out a gentle chuckle.

“People can be worse than wolves, Arthur. In fact, I’d prefer a wolf over some o’ the people I’ve met.”

Arthur leaned forward in the saddle, his body swaying along with Boadicea’s steady speed.

“What kinda people have you met?”

I lowered my voice, thinking back to the bandits who killed Beatrice.

“Killers. Thieves. Deceivers. Men who will constantly betray each other even though they share the same motive: greed.”

I turned to Arthur with a remorseful look, hopin’ to do at least one right thing in my life, and use myself as a cautionary tale that money weren’t as clean as it seemed.

“...Greed,” I told him, “it breaks people, Arthur. They may not realize it, ‘cause greed can get you far in this world...but the reward ain’t worth it. Not compared to the things you have to sacrifice. In the end, you’ll have tons of cash, only to realize that there are luxuries not even millionaires can afford.”

His innocence took over. “Then why do they do it?”

That was a question I asked myself everyday. I shrugged in a disheartened fashion.

“Because they don’t care. So long as their pockets is heavy, and their bellies is full, they’ll keep on going. But like I said, greed poisons you. It kills you. And you won’t even notice until you’re already sittin’ in a grave. So promise me, Arthur, promise me that when you get to my age...you won’t become a wolf.”

Despite evidently bein’ a little confused, the child was able to make some sense of what I just said and agreed to the promise, reassuring me with a small smile.

“I promise.”

“Good boy,” I praised, bringing my mind back to the main reason we came out here. “Anyway, here’s the bridge. Why don’t you hop down and help me find this buck?”

“Okay.”

Sliding down the saddle, Arthur effortlessly climbed down and joined me, scurrying ‘round like a mouse while he searched for any signs of the buck. But so far, there was nothing in sight.

“See anything?” I checked. The boy shook his head.

I wiped some sweat off my brow, letting out a fatigued sigh. This animal was certainly proving to be a challenge to hunt down. We had already been in this forest for a couple hours now, and our efforts still hadn’t paid off. Part o’ me was almost starting to suspect if Arthur even saw a deer in the first place, and not some other kinda animal.

I decided to take a short break, and turned to ask the boy.

“You positive the buck was roamin’ around in these parts? Or that it was a buck at all? I haven’t seen any tracks so far.”

A soft rustle suddenly reached my ears, interrupting my conversation with Arthur as I reached for my gun, only to be stopped by a sound I didn’t expect.

It was a man’s voice.

“...Don’t even think about it,” the stranger warned, cocking his own gun. “I will shoot if necessary.”

Freezing at the intrusion, I remained perfectly still and didn’t utter a single word as a pair of footsteps steadily approached me from behind, followed by two more men coming in from the front on horseback.

They were all dressed in similar outfits donned with Nevada hats, and I couldn’t help but notice the star-shaped badges shimmerin’ blatantly on their chests.

Shit. These were lawmen. What the hell were they doin’ out here? I never expected the law to travel this far into the country. This was definitely odd.

What really puzzled me though, weren’t the fact that there were three lawmen just...waitin’ for us out here -- it was more the fact that Arthur didn’t seem phased by any of this in the slightest. Just what exactly was goin’ on?

Trotting closer to me, one of the mounted men glowered in my direction as he ordered his deputy to restrain me, his firm, steel eyes never wavering.

I recognized him instantly.

“...Sheriff Buchanan.” I muttered through gritted teeth.

He returned the greeting, scowling from under his hat’s rim.

“Lyle Morgan.”

I shrugged at him, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“What is this shit? What’s the sheriff doing all the way out here?”

Buchanan glanced at Arthur, standing in front of him in a protective manner.

“I told you I’d use every option I had to get you behind bars, Morgan...and I meant it. You made the choice not to heed my warning.”

Taking a second to process what he just told me, the realization suddenly hit me like a bullet to the gut as I stared at Arthur with a sense of immense betrayal, unable to believe what was happening.

There never was no goddamned buck.

Things was never gonna work out for me and Arthur.

This was all a trap.

My own...son...had turned me in.

He was the bait, and Buchanan was the true hunter.

I clenched my jaw in rage, doing my absolute best to shield my emotions as the deputy kicked me to my knees.

“...A-Arthur...?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

The boy looked me straight in the eye, standing adamantly beside Buchanan as his deputies tied me up. I threw a glare at the sheriff, damning him till my last moments.

“You bastard, Buchanan...!” I cursed. “You turned my own damned son against me...?!”

The man showed no guilt and tightened his grip on his rifle, silently advising me to stay back.

“No need,” Buchanan denied. “You drove him to me all by yourself.”

He placed a gentle hand on Arthur’s shoulder and guided him towards the second deputy, ordering them to bring him back to town.

“Clayton, bring the boy back to the office. We’ll figure out where to send him later. For now though, just keep him safe, and look after him.”

“Right away, Sheriff.”

Preparing both his horse and mine for departure, the deputy left Arthur next to the sheriff as the boy stood firmly in place, his innocent yet damaged gaze never leavin’ mine.

Despite the hint of remorse clouding the child’s eyes, it was pretty obvious Arthur felt he made the right decision in turning me in. And just as Buchanan’s second deputy started to drag me away, I couldn’t help but notice a beautiful Whitetail buck wanderin’ around in the distance, its majestic antlers standing out like a crown on a monarch’s head as it bathed in the golden sunlight.

The animal swayed its head in my direction, almost as if trying to communicate with me.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Arthur whispered as he walked towards Clayton, blocking the buck in the process. “...But you made me promise.”

Taking his leave, the boy finally mounted up and steadily trotted away from the scene, only to reveal an empty spot where the buck once stood as he left the forest.

Well...I may have found the buck like I planned, but it weren’t my job to kill it.

And it certainly weren’t my place to look for it.

I could hunt them down to my heart’s content, and kill ‘em all I wanted for my own desires...but in the end, they would always be able to afford the one luxury I’d never obtained.

Peace.

Packless Monsters

 TITLE: Packless Monsters CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 32/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a werewolf who ends up in the company of Loki in the Avenger’s tower after saving Pepper’s life RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

  “Loki, can we go back upstairs now?” you asked softly, hiding your aching head against his chest and refusing to open your eyes. He kissed the top of your head.

    “Of course, darling,” you kept your eyes firmly closed and let him steer you back upstairs to your couch. You hadn’t even noticed that he used magic to change both of your clothes back to the comfy lounge clothes you had picked out for your lazy Sunday. You growled when your phone started ringing from your pocket. You fished it out and answered without looking at it or the caller ID. “Hello?”

    “Y/N, It’s Samuel. I had to call and check to make sure you were safe today,” his voice was short and no-nonsense.

    “Yes, Samuel. I’m safe. Loki and I are spending the day in the heavily fortified Avenger’s tower,” you told him exasperated by everyone’s constant concern, though you understood the reason behind it.

    “And you trust them with your safety? They know what’s going on today?” Samuel pressed. You finally figured that there was a more pressing issue here.

    “Yes, they know and I trust them.”

    “I have pack business to take care of. Would Rachel be safe there too?” Samuel asked and you knew then how much he trusted you and the Avengers to even ask. He wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight if he didn’t trust her guardians.

    “Of course she will. Do we need to come get her?”

    “You’re not going anywhere, you’re in no shape,” Loki told you firmly, nearly growling at the suggestion.

    “No, I’ll drive her over and pick her up later,”

    “I don’t need a babysitter!” Rachel’s voice yelled from the background.

    “We’re about to start a Harry Potter marathon and drink tea in pajamas all day. I think there might be chocolate cake involved if we pester Loki enough. Tell her she’s welcome to join us,” you told Samuel. He relayed your message and Rachel finally agreed to come just to hang out with you. It saved face for her and let Samuel know she was somewhere safe. Everyone won.

    “I’ll call you when we get there and you can send Loki down to collect us. If I see you outside, I’ll bite you myself,” Samuel threatened loudly enough that Loki would be able to hear too. Loki chuckled.

    “I’ll see you soon,” he said loudly enough that Samuel could hear him. You hung up then and finally risked opening your eyes so you could get the DVDs out while Loki summoned the tea and blankets and a selection of books. You also had Jarvis tell the rest of the team there’d be another wolf hiding out here soon. You had a nice comfy nest of couch cushions, blankets, and pillows built by the time that Samuel called you back.

    “Loki will meet you downstairs in a minute,” you greeted him. He laughed and hung up. You nodded to Loki and he went to go collect the wolves. You waited by the elevator for them to get up here. You hugged Rachel and Samuel when they got off the elevator. They both gave you a look and glanced at Loki. You flushed, and hoped they were nice enough to keep their mouths closed at what their noses smelled that you and Loki had done last night.

    “Thanks for letting Rach hang out there,” Samuel told you. “I wouldn’t impose, but…”

    “You don’t trust Jareth and his wolves,” you finished. He nodded.

    “I won’t leave her alone there with them and I have other pack business to work on,”

    “Need help?” you asked automatically. He laughed.

    “I need you two to help by staying out of danger. You’ll keep them safe?” Samuel asked Loki.

    Loki inclined his head regally. “I will,”

    “Samuel, this building is a fortress and full of Avengers. We’re not leaving the main floor of the tower. We’ll be fine,” you told him firmly. “Go take care of the pack. The worst that will happen here is Loki might get his nails painted,” you smirked over at Loki while Rachel got a glint of mischief in her eyes too.

    “Maybe if I bribe you with enough chocolate cake I can escape that fate,” Loki suggested, but didn’t sound convinced.

    “Maybe if you find us another victim,” you suggested innocently.

    “That I might be able to arrange. You should escape before you get claimed as their first victim,” Loki told Samuel. He wisely decided to leave before he got his nails painted, or worse.

    You put the first Harry Potter movie on and settled in the nest of cushions and blankets. Rachel was already there curled on one side of Loki. He was surprised that she had just cuddled up to him and was not at all surprised when you curled up on his other side. He kissed your hair and pulled the blankets up over both of you. “All of you wolves are incorrigible cuddlers,” he sighed in exasperation.

    “Hush you or we get the nail polish out,” Rachel threatened. Loki chuckled.

    “You seem to have acquired another cuddle,” Tony quipped from the elevator when he stepped out and saw the scene of two girls cuddled up with Loki, who wasn’t complaining for some strange reason.

    “Target acquired,” you whispered to Rachel. She grinned and you both jumped to your feet. Before Tony knew what was happening, you and Rachel were both dragging him over to the middle of the living room.

    “I thought they were supposed to be weak when they’re without their powers!” Tony growled trying to fight off the two of you and failing without his suit. “Reindeer Games!” Tony actually asked Loki for help. Loki raised his hands in surrender.

    “If I help you then I shall be submitted to the same torture,” Loki replied, making no move to help. “And I would rather not. Ladies, do you require assistance?” he asked, choosing the correct side in this battle.

    “Nah, we’ve got him,” Rachel said as Tony was thrown onto his back on the floor.

    “I’m going to get you for this,” Tony growled. He was soon sat on by two werewolves.

    “Love, we don’t have any nail polish down here. Do you mind?” you asked Loki. He summoned a selection for you. “Thanks!” Tony struggled, but he was laughing now that he knew what you were up to.

    “That pink doesn’t go with my complexion. Pick the other one. No, not that one, yes!” he finally said. Rachel sat on his chest and painted his fingernails while you stripped off his shoes to get his toes. They were going to be obnoxiously bright purple.

    “Do I even want to know what’s going on in here?” Cap asked when he saw the sight. “No, no I don’t,” he answered his own question and just kept walking through the room quickly, followed by Bruce, who equally wasn’t stopping to help Tony.

    “Need help?” Nat asked you and Rachel as she took a picture of Tony getting his nails painted while being sat on by two werewolves with Loki looking on unhelpfully from the sidelines. You thanked her, but told her that you had the situation under control.

    Tony was allowed to escape once his nails were painted. He ran for it the second he was free. He had thought the joke was funny once he was in on it, but he wasn’t sticking around to find out what the two silly werewolves would come up with next. You calmly pained Loki’s nails black, which he graciously submitted to. You were content after that to both curl back up using him as a pillow to continue your movie marathon.

    “Brother?” Thor asked when he finally came into the room.

    “I have been defeated by two cuddly werewolves. There was nothing I could do,” Loki said mournfully, dramatically. You and Rachel both laughed and just cuddled better around Loki. “Such an awful defeat. Just leave me for dead, Brother, save yourself,”

    Thor laughed and came over, lifting Rachel from the cuddle. She shrieked and struggled, but wasn’t effective against the wall of muscle that was Thor. However, he settled her next to him a moment later after he had joined the next of pillows and blankets. “Warm~” she said softly and gladly curled up with Thor. He was the superior cuddle for her, as he really was stupidly warm. He chuckled.

    “She’s married, Thor. Don’t get any ideas,” you warned. You didn’t think he was silly enough to think that cuddling from a werewolf was anything serious, but you wanted to make sure just in case.

    “I would make no moves on a married lady,” Thor replied formally. “However, your kind do not view cuddling as anything more than a friendly gesture, which I am perfectly capable of providing,” he added. Rachel nodded, her eyes were already closing, a mix of tired from Winter’s Moon, the exertion of forcing Tony to have his nails painted, and the warmth of her cuddle.

    Loki flushed and looked at you, embarrassed as he realized that Thor might have warm that you needed and that was something he couldn’t help with. “You’re cold today. Would you rather-?” he asked softly, hesitantly. He would give up the contact with you and the cuddle he enjoyed to make you more comfortable. You made a small sad noise that he would even suggest it and held him tighter.

    “Mine,” you said firmly.

    He kissed the top of your head and you heard the smile in his voice when he replied “Yes, darling, all yours,”

An Unusual Hero C10S3

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 22/06/2021

Sarah was going to kill him.

It was the thought that ran over and over in Luc’s head as they hightailed it up the highway. They were going to get to the cabin and she’d shoot him there. Plenty of places to hide a body in the woods. Hell, she wouldn’t even need to lug him outside, she could just leave him in the cabin. By the time anyone checked there she’d be long gone.

He’d thought she was going to smack him back in the library, he’d braced for it, ready to take the punch, but she’d surprised him when she’d just let go of his hand and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration before ordering him out. But it wasn’t as if he’d done it on purpose. He’d only ever used the damn thing as a watch; he’d never really looked into the ins and outs of it when Linda had thrown it at him a few months ago. He’d always dismissed his suspicions as ridiculous, a page from a Glynn West novel or something.

‘We won’t have long,’ Sarah told him, interrupting his musings of how many ways she could probably kill him. He blinked as he realised they were at the cabin and she was already half way up the path to the cabin. The engine was still running and she’d left the doors open. Clearly the mad dash had wiped away her fear of bears and wolves.

‘You grab the bags,’ she shouted over her shoulder as he climbed out the car. ‘And shove them in the boot—the trunk!’

‘What are you doing?’ he asked as he stepped inside the building. She was riffling through the drawers in the kitchen, hissing and cursing as she went. He grabbed the bag from the sofa and hoisted it over his shoulder as he moved to the bedroom to grab the others.

‘Destroying the evidence of us being here,’ she finally replied a second before he heard a match strike.

No. There was no way she was—

He stepped out of the bedroom and turned to where she stood in the dinning area, holding a match to the curtains that decorated the window frame. He swallowed as he watched the yellow flame jump from the match and race up the drapes, consuming them hungrily and leaving nothing behind. The flimsy nets that covered the window caught easily as the curtains crumbled off their pole and fluttered to the floor in a shower of ash and sparks, like a cheap firework.

‘Get going!’ Sarah was pushing him out the door before he realised what was going on, hypnotised by the dancing flames as they rushed to find new food to consume. They leapt across the top of the bookcase next to the window, feasting heartily, while another line meandered across the rugs towards the small sofa.

Luc stumbled outside, the door swinging closed behind him, and he dashed toward the stolen Excel. His feet brought him to a halt as he reached the driver’s door and a choice appeared before him.

He could run. He could jump in the car and leave Sarah behind. Head back into town where the watch had shown him to be and await rescue. He had no idea what Sarah would do, she’d probably run through the forest, head north as she planned, but on foot this time. Bears and wolves be damned.

The image of her squaring off against a bear and coming out victorious sprung to mind. Fucking failed trainee, as if. She certainly didn’t look like a failure when her eyes became hard, her face devoid of emotion, and she snapped out orders as if he were her servant.

He threw the bags in the back before glancing back towards the cabin. The curtains framing the window of the bedroom that looked over their little parking space suddenly caught fire. He had seconds to make a decision. He had the weapons, the clothes, her IDs…

He slammed the lid of the boot closed and hopped in the car a moment before the cabin door swung open and Sarah jumped out, over a licking flame that had wound its way towards the front of the cabin. She ran towards the car and yanked the driver’s door open, cursing up a storm as she jumped in the seat, threw the car in gear and sped out of the clearing. She carried the smell of burning; like a campfire on a cold night, and something about that settled Luc’s mind.

This woman, failure or not, hadn’t hurt him. She hadn’t shouted at him, hit him, or shot him. She could have done any or all of those things, but she’d done none. Hell, she was well within her rights to have left him sat in the library and gone off on her own. Instead, she hadn’t thought twice about him not being part of her hastily thrown together plan—as insane as it was.

‘Promise me there are no more surprises,’ she begged as they joined the 191 again and headed north. ‘You don’t have an implant or something do you?’ she scoffed, glancing between him and the road.

If it wasn’t for the fact that the tech didn’t yet exist to do such a thing—to his knowledge, at least—he would have paused over that question rather than shake his head immediately.

‘Alrighty then, so we’re good to ditch this’—she tapped the steering wheel—‘grab another and get the hell of dodge.’

Luc nodded, not really knowing what else to say.

‘Hey,’ Sarah said, a few minutes later. ‘We all make mistakes. We’d have had to leave that place shortly anyway, it would have just been better to not do it in such a rush… I feel bad I had to torch their home.’

Luc turned to look at her; she had an oopsy face, her bottom lip pushed to the side as she grimaced.

‘I don’t get why you did that. Are you going to do that to every place we stay?’

‘What? No,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘If we’d have had time, I’d have scrubbed the place, but we didn’t. I don’t know when that message was sent to your watch; was it sent as soon as they located you, or was it sent hours later? Maybe it was sent when we were in town days ago and it only picked it up today when we went back there.’

Shit, he hadn’t thought of that.

‘But that’s more unlikely,’ she said as she relaxed back into her seat. ‘I imagine if that had been the case they’d have used it today to pinpoint you exactly and caught us at the library.’

If Sarah had genuinely been classed as a failure, Luc would hate to meet those that passed whatever test she hadn’t.

‘Also,’ she continued on. ‘Torching it makes them focus there for a while. Was it us? Was it someone else? Deliberate or accidental?’ Luc relaxed back in his seat, his gaze alternating between the scenery flying past them and the woman next to him as she continued on with her reasoning.

He’d made the right choice, he decided as Sarah leaned forward and switched on the radio, scanning the airwaves for news segments between songs. Other than inviting the Demon to them, he didn’t think he could screw up any bigger than he had today and Sarah hadn’t lashed out at him. She’d been disappointed, yes. Perhaps even angry, but none of that had transferred into any form of abuse towards him. If he’d gone back…

He shuddered to think what would have happened if he’d returned home, to LA, to Linda.

‘Oh, I love this song,’ Sarah said as she tuned into another station. It was disconcerting to know that the woman beside him had gone all pyromaniac on him ten minutes ago and was now singing along with an oldie station, but he felt safer with her than almost anyone else he knew.

He rested his head back against the chair and watched Sarah drive. Her head bobbing and swaying, fingers tapping in time to the tune, and her slightly off-key singing was at odds with the straight line of her shoulders, her rigid back, and her eyes snapping to the review mirror every ten seconds. She threw him a tight smile as she caught his eye in the mirror, turning her head to sing at him as if nothing was amiss. He returned her smile, a big easy grin he’d perfected over the years for convention weekends and posing with fans when it was the last thing he wanted to do, and she turned back to the road, her voice a little louder.

Luc’s smile immediately turned to a frown. Perhaps, she was telling the truth that she’d failed, but maybe he’d also been right; she could only turn into the a success when the chips were down.

An uneasy feeling settled in Luc’s gut. If she could only react like an action hero when they were threatened, how much danger would they face before it was all over?

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!

During his move to Washington, DC, Stiles made a number of realizations about life, the most prominent of which was that it was amazing what kind of hobbies a guy could pick up when his days weren’t packed full of running for his life from various supernatural horrors. Like trivia nights, for example. Stiles had a regular team and the entire bar groaned when they walked in because they knew they were about to get creamed.

Or the tabletop gaming club he joined, where everyone was just as competitive as he was, and punches had been thrown on more than one occasion.

Or like, Stiles jogged now.

Through the National Mall.

Like Captain America or some shit.

And with these hobbies came a sort of routine, and though most were on hold during the summer when his trivia team and gaming rivals were back home, the running stuck. It was calming and got his mind off things, gave him a chance to think about any papers he had to write, or de-stress about his FBI internship when it got a little hectic.

It was a good routine.

So every Saturday morning, Stiles got up a little earlier so he could get in his longer route, and left his dorm for his jog through the National Mall. On Saturdays, he took the path that went through the war memorials, down into West Potomac Park, and over to the Jefferson Memorial. It was his favorite place to take a breather because that early in the morning, there were rarely any tourists, and other joggers left him alone. It was nice and private, with a great view of the city across the water.

Stiles leaned back against the front steps and glanced around him casually, making sure there was no one too close before pulling out his little burner flip phone.

He had an old school drug dealer flip phone. His dad would be so proud.

There was only one number the phone ever called, so there was no need to save it under a name.

He waited for a few minutes, biding his time until the clock hit 7:15am, and then he called that number.

On the third ring, Derek picked up.

“Morning, sunshine!” Stiles greeted, already wide awake from his jog. Derek grunted back. He must’ve had a late night at the bar. “Any leads?”

Derek yawned loudly. “Still no werewolves with triskele tattoos, still wanted for murder.”

Stiles expected as much, but there had been a tiny part of him hoping that they finally had something more substantial to go on than a vague suspect has triskele tattoo.

Because there was an honest to god wanted poster of Derek Hale in the FBI, pinned up on a board in the office. Stiles could see it from his desk, every time he looked up from his work, and it was still pretty surreal even after a week. There were a bunch of others up with it, higher priority cases, actually dangerous people, but Stiles’ eye always drifted back to Derek.

The Bureau still didn’t know his name and the poster only had a blurry screenshot from a video of him not looking directly at the camera, but that was definitely Derek Hale—he had a very distinctive hairline, Stiles would know it anywhere. Also the triskele tattoo clearly visible in the picture.

So really, all Derek had to do was keep his shirt on and maybe buy a hat, and no one would ever find him. He could blend in with any old hipster on the street.

Stiles texted him as much over a month ago when they first started all this, and the first text he received back from Derek Hale after two years of radio silence was a pissy shut up.

The period really set the tone.

No seriously, did you kill someone? Stiles texted back with a picture of the poster.

(Fucking Joel caught him snapping a picture of it, and now everyone kept making jabs about his crush on a murder suspect.

Wouldn’t be the first time, Stiles muttered under his breath, too quiet for any of them to hear.)

And so began the Stilinski and Hale Long-Distance Crime Fighting Initiative—SHLDCFI for short. Not quite as catchy as SHIELD or ARGUS, but Stiles was still working on their title, and Derek wasn’t helping at all, the bastard. It was his ass they were trying to clear, the very least he could do is come up with a decent acronym.

“I did talk to that alpha,” Derek continued, and Stiles perked up with interest. “She said wolves were going missing from a few packs in the area over the last year, but it was just local police investigating. Once humans started turning up dead in Virginia too, the FBI started paying attention.” There was general kitchen clattering in the background as he started making breakfast. “Everyone in the community around here is pretty jumpy about it.”

Which was probably making it difficult to get any answers out of them. Stiles didn’t envy Derek’s task. Though it would be nice to be out investigating rather than trying to subtly rifle through investigation files in the office.

“Well if it makes you feel any better, the Bureau doesn’t have much either. McCall said they’re still interviewing backwater sheriffs south of Fayetteville, but they aren’t any closer to an ID.”

And if they did manage to get a clear shot of his face, at least Derek developed some approximation of self-preservation instincts in the last couple years and grew a beard. Based on his very reluctant description of his disguise, he’d become a straight up hipster bartender, complete with a beanie and plaid. Stiles was dying to see at least a picture, if not the real thing in person.

“And they still don’t suspect you?” It was the question he asked every week, always very quick to remind Stiles to drop the entire thing if he ever started attracting attention.

“Nah, everyone I work with just assumes I have a creepy obsession with a murderer’s abs, so that’s fun.” It was great having that reputation again. “Lots of jokes. Just like high school.”

“Stop if it gets too bad. I mean it, Stiles.” At least he didn’t try to tack on that I’m not worth it crap again, after the last time Stiles passionately lectured him on self-esteem the entire length of the Lincoln reflecting pool. A little ironic coming from Stiles, but whatever worked.

“You just worry about you,” he shot back, as per usual, and then added for good measure. “And don’t even think of turning yourself in. Someone has to catch this guy.”

“And maybe that someone isn’t me,” Derek countered.

More kitchen sounds on the ether end of the line, maybe making coffee. Possibly someone frying.

Stiles was getting hungry.

“Dude, we’ll get him. Trust me. SHLDCFI is on the case,” he said before they said their goodbyes and he signed off with his now customary, “Keep your shirt on, buddy.”

He could hear the eyeroll in the way Derek hung up on him.

Stiles stood up from the steps to stretch again before his run back to campus, trying to decide whether he wanted to go a longer route while he stared absently at the Washington Monument, visible over the trees across the water. A couple joggers loped past, a few tourists were starting to trickle in, and his phone pinged in his hand.

He frowned. Derek never texted him on this phone.

How about just Stilinski Hale Investigative Team.

Stiles stared at it, thinking it through. Then demanded to the mostly empty patio around him, “SHIT? Seriously Derek? Not cool.”

Man United are a hot mess, but how much worse can it get before there are major shake-ups?

Even before a ball was kicked, Manchester United bosses expected a hard season in 2019-20.

Everton more than matched the asking price to loan defender Marcos Rojo on deadline day but the deal was canned at the last minute over fears that Marco Silva already had a stronger squad. Chris Smalling was told he could not move to Goodison Park but was allowed to join Roma.

Privately, Silva accused United of sabotaging Everton’s season before it had started by leaving him with just two senior centre-backs, one of whom (Yerry Mina) only managed 10 league starts in 2018-19 because of injury. Executive vice-chairman Ed Woodward and the Glazers would ultimately be wrong about Everton — they’re 17th after eight games — but they were right about United.

– O’Hanlon: Who are the best shooters in soccer? – Tim Howard: A final goodbye to my fans – Hunter: Busquets’ days appear numbered at Barcelona

Ole Gunnar Solskjaer’s team are 12th in the table, two points above the relegation places, after Sunday’s 1-0 defeat at Newcastle. Woodward has promised Solskjaer time to complete a rebuild that only began in the summer and not allow himself to be influenced by “short-term distractions” but after such a poor start, the question is simple. How much more can he take?

Squad depth is only partially Solskjaer’s fault

There’s an acceptance within the club that Solskjaer has been left with a squad seriously short in midfield and up front. He decided to jettison Romelu Lukaku and Alexis Sanchez for the good of the dressing room because both had made it clear they wanted to leave, becoming increasingly distant and withdrawn from the rest of the group. Money was available for a replacement for Lukaku, but Solskjaer decided against bringing in a short-term fix even as long-term targets were unavailable.

The current injury crisis is another mitigating factor. Of the team that beat Chelsea 4-0 on the opening weekend of the season, six were absent against Newcastle. Paul Pogba has missed five of the past seven games with an ankle injury. Anthony Martial, identified during preseason as the first-choice centre-forward, has been sidelined since August with a thigh problem.

Behind the scenes, Woodward has spoken of “fine margins” like penalty misses against Wolves and Crystal Palace, and penalties that weren’t given against Arsenal and AZ Alkmaar. The fact remains, however, that in two weeks’ time, United could find themselves in the bottom three.

The 2019-20 campaign already marks their worst start to a season for 30 years. A return to the top four looks unlikely and a second successive season without Champions League football would see the annual payment from kit supplier, Adidas, reduce by 30 percent to around £20 million.

Ole Gunnar Solskjaer is in charge of Man United’s worst start to a season in 30 years. It’s likely to get worse, too.

Solskjaer is aware he has gambled on the good will of Woodward and the Glazers. The story goes that while United fans were apoplectic at the club’s transfer business in the summer of 2013, the manager, David Moyes, was far more relaxed. With the security of a six-year contract, his approach would be “evolution rather than revolution” but while he thought there would be plenty of time for change, he was sacked after just 10 months.

Solskjaer has improved the defence — United have the fourth-best defensive record in the league through eight games — but he will need at least one more summer window to fix everything else. However, even those around him accept a heavy defeat to Liverpool at Old Trafford after the international break could end his reign though a recent report suggested that the club had already written that match off as a loss and were more concerned with a positive result against Norwich.

If it does, Solskjaer will leave with more than a few frustrations. For example, his concerns in the summer that deals were taking too long to get over the line. Discussions for players were never done simultaneously, with chief negotiator Matt Judge instead telling targets they were “next on the list” once the latest deal had been completed. It meant they ran out of time when it came to signing a striker and despite Solskjaer making it clear he wanted five new players to improve the squad’s quality and depth in the summer, he ended up with three (Aaron Wan-Bissaka, Daniel James and Harry Maguire).

Funds will be made available in January but there are doubts the right players can be brought in midway through the season.

The team needs sharper coaching

The Norwegian has remedied some problems he encountered when he took over from Jose Mourinho 10 months ago — the team leaks that would anger Mourinho have stopped — but other issues remain. There are unhelpful divisions in the dressing room and when a meal in Manchester was organised after the Carabao Cup tie with Rochdale, some players opted to attend despite another disappointing performance while others decided it was inappropriate to be seen out on the town after a 1-1 draw with team near the bottom of League One.

There are also concerns among some senior players that the youngsters thrown in by Solskjaer are not ready to play such a key role. The inexperience of Mason Greenwood, Tahith Chong and Angel Gomes is in contrast to Frank Lampard‘s core of young players at Chelsea (Tammy Abraham, Mason Mount and Fikayo Tomori) who have made 340 senior appearances between them. Meanwhile, the muscle injuries that decimated the squad in March have not been eradicated and Martial (thigh), Luke Shaw (hamstring) and Jesse Lingard (hamstring) all missed the defeat at St James’ Park on Sunday.

Solskjaer has styled himself as a manager rather than a coach and besides shouting “let’s see if you can get to 20” during the Rondo passing drills, much of the work on the training pitch is left to Kieran McKenna, who was looking after the Under-18s little more than a year ago. This lack of hands-on instruction has a trickle-down effect: opposition coaches say United are so predictable going forward that the way to beat them is to sit back, soak up pressure and counter attack. Newcastle’s goal on Sunday came from a United corner.

Woodward and the Glazers were prepared for a difficult season but no away win since March and five wins and just 18 goals scored in 21 games as permanent manager is pushing the limits of what is acceptable. Match-going fans will never turn on a man who played for the club with such distinction en masse but there are rumblings about a manager many in Norway felt did not deserve a new contract at Molde before United came calling.

For now, Solskjaer retains enough support within the corridors of power at Old Trafford but he is well aware that Woodward has shown an itchy trigger finger in the past. A defeat to Liverpool on Oct. 20 would further test that patience.

//due to VPPA compliance we can not send keywords through URLs implicitly in the US var countryValue = $.cookie("country"); if(!!countryValue && countryValue !== "us") {

(function() { var _fbq = window._fbq || (window._fbq = []); if (!_fbq.loaded) { var fbds = document.createElement('script'); fbds.async = true; fbds.src = "http://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbds.js"; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(fbds, s); _fbq.loaded = true; } _fbq.push(['addPixelId', '1587432981493230']); })(); window._fbq = window._fbq || []; window._fbq.push(['track', 'PixelInitialized', {}]);

$.ajax({ url: '//pixel.mathtag.com/event/js?mt_id=694557&mt_adid=137010&v1=&v2=&v3=&s1=&s2=&s3=', dataType: 'script', cache: true }); } (function(d, s, id) {var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0];if (d.getElementById(id)) return;js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id;js.src = "http://connect.facebook.net/en_GB/all.js#xfbml=1&appId=116656161708917";fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs);}(document, "script", "facebook-jssdk")); Source link

via wordpress https://ift.tt/2p2vfAS

Hunting with Atin

[12:12] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) left the transport, heading towards the Alor'ad's ID marker, noting the ship he had been thrown out of above dathomir, her moved into the front, taking a seat in the co-pilots seat, monitoring the screens and dials as they headed for the surface, ensuring he didnt fall for the same trick as sit in the back bay

[12:14] Nicci Ordo smirked when he sat in the co pilot's seat.  She disengaged the landing gear and lifted the ship into the air, setting a course for Endor and making the jump to hyperspace.  "I thought you were working on getting a ship of your own?  What did you do while you were gone, gamble all your money away?"

[12:17] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) let out a laugh " I worked with clan Ka'ra for alittle, helping them defend their mining projects on Tython, boring stuff... I had, have a ship.. somewhere, I think I left it on dxun maybe, or tattooine, I can't quite remember..." as they approached their final destination he monitored their elevation and pitch, only ready to notify the alor'ad of anything out of the ordinary, failing to find it.

[12:21] Nicci Ordo started the landing cycle and put the ship down on a platform that was at the edge of the forest.  She raised an eyebrow when he did not seem to know where his ship was, reaching down for an empty narcoleth bottle and chucking it at his helmetted head.  "Vod.  Ships come with homing signals by default which you are given with each bill of sale.  It is wasteful to just misplace your ship like that." she grunted as she shut down the engines.

[12:25] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) nodded " It was the last thing on my mind when I left Ordo, I will be sure to retrieve it eventually." He'd stand from the co-pilots seat, moving over to the door way, checking his kit over, prepping his weapons " I'm not sure how you want to do this but I was going to leave anything that fires a blaster, I was going to take my axe and maybe craft a bow should I need one..." He

[12:25] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) he'd look to her, seeing her preference before he removed his blasters

[12:28] Nicci Ordo looked at him, having been armed to the teeth in you name it.  "What is your goal here?  Some kind of spiritual journey?" she laughed.  "What if we are surrounded by Ewok or even...Death Watch?  Or imperials?  Or Jedi?" she sighed.  "I suppose we can do that, and I can have the droid auto pilot bring the ship by if we run into that kind of trouble.  Though my very armor itself fires missiles..."

[12:31] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) laughed " If we come across anything lethal, we kill it with whatever we can." he'd place his blasters into a locker, "Things are too easily killed with a blaster, my of a hunt when we use our sharpened metal objects, no?"

[12:34] Nicci Ordo unloaded her repeater, and a few of her rifles and stowed them in the weapons locker of the ship.  She kept her grenades and one pistol just in case.  "This is your hunt.  Your rules.  Hell why don't we just leave our armor too like a couple of ge'verd," she chuckled.

[12:35] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grinned "So be it." He's say, begging to remove his armour too, stripping down to his flight suit, taking a tshirt from his backpack and wearing it

[12:36] Nicci Ordo sighed, pushing exhaust from her helmet.  She had been kidding.  Well there was nothing for it now.  She grunted and began to take off her armor as well.

[12:43] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grabbed a grappling hook from the locker he palced his kit on, locking the belt clip and checking the hook, maybe it would come in handy " Ready?"

[13:00] Nicci Ordo grabbed a set of spare clothes she found in one of the overhead bins on her ship.  Since she was wearing nothing but a flight suit under her armor plating, and the wilderness required something a bit more practical, she had to change.  She remained on board and stripped down to put on the new clothing. She grabbed some bug repellent and scrubbed the war paint off her face, then came out. "I feel naked but....elek..."

[13:03] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grinned as she came down "Don;t think I've ever seen you this unarmoured, practically naked.." He'd let his eyes rest on her alittle longer before looking out to the forrest " I was thinking we hack some boar wolf to death and set up camp and enjoy the spoils, keep the pelts..." He'd head to the edge of the ancient Imperial at-at station " we should probably head south, down wind and away from this station..."

[13:10] Nicci Ordo nodded, liking the idea of a new pelt or two.  It had been a while since she collected anym always seeming to hunt people these days rather than game.  She frowned when she remembered the hunt with Soron, and how he was now with the former ky'tsad skank.  She suddenly felt self conscious, and this entire situation was causing some unwanted deja vu.  She cleared her throat.  "Right.  Lead the way."

[13:12] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) nodded, taking his grappling hook and placing it on the side of the station platform, "I dont trust ancient elevators and I dont fancy getting stuck in the shaft. "Hope you don't mind heights... he'd say, throwing the line down, before climbing onto the rope and decending to the forrest floor

[13:13] Nicci Ordo rolled her eyes.  "Oh...yeah.  I use a jetpack and jump out of drop ships on the back of a basilisk war droid but...terrified." she grunted, following him down.

[13:20] Nicci Ordo narrowed her eyes, "I will show you old with my fist in your mouth if you don't watch it." she glared at him.  "I am a lot more than a skeleton!" she retorted back.  She closed her eyes and listened specifically for howling, as it was dark and the moon had risen, the boar wolves often howled in unison at it.

[13:24] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grinned, keeping his voice low, "Thought we established who's fist would prevail." He'd say lightly mocking her, assured in his mind she was a mighty warrior, he moved slowly and kept low, moving towards a swampish part of the Jungle floor, using the mud to wipe on his face and arms, to remove any of his natural shine, hearing the howls towards the south, sounded close too, he'd notion towards them with hand signals, keeping low, sometimes using his hands to crawl somewhat animalistly "Being on Tython allowed for alot of time to hunt." He'd say, less than a whisper now

[13:27] Nicci Ordo rolled her eyes, "I could kick your ass, I was drunk the other day," she said, now too in a whisper.  "Tython is for baby Jedi.  Nothing exactly to brag about.  Dxun would have suited you better for your skill." she replied.  She crouched down low next to him, reapplying her war paint, and becoming more alert.  The boar wolves were huge, and would be hard to miss through both sight and sound.

[13:29] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grinned " Was that a compliement?" He'd retort silently, now moving down to his belly, laying flat in the prone position as he heard what seemed to be a large creature 50 metres infront of them, moving from left to right through the tree line.

[13:35] Nicci Ordo smirked, "Perhaps, though it was intended as a reprimand." she replied.  She spotted the boar ahead of them now.  It appeared to be gorging itself on something, though she could not make out what exactly in the dark.  She smelled the thing before she saw it.  The moonlight glittered off her green eyes, she was not all the way into the mud as he was, but was behind a boulder beside him.  She drew one of her blades silently, but waited for his signal, as this was his hunt.

[13:54] Nicci Ordo found herself momentarily distracted by his muscles.  Shaking herself, she did not have any fancy spears to throw so she leaped out from behind the rock with her sword held high above her head, attempting to land on the boar's back with her sword sinking into it's hide.

[13:54] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 28 [Strength:10]

[13:55] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 17 [Strength:10]

[13:57] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) [WOLFBOAR: Enraged as the spear flew past it, running towards the origin point, he saw Atin, running towards him, attempting to piece flesh with his tusks, only enraged further as a blade rattled against its spine, running down its thuck hide, blood spirting and covering Nicci. Still charging towards Atin

[13:57] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 28 [Strength:10]

[13:57] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 21 [Strength:10]

[13:59] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grimaced as his spear missed, only alerting the beast, as it came running towards him, he tried to move from its path, being caught in the gut by the tusk, fortunately only launching him away, as opposed to piercing his flesh. he drew his axe, aming a strike towards the animals face, as its reared and howled

[13:59] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 16 [Strength:10]

[13:59] Greg Moonlight (orywest) entered draw distance (630.12 m).

[13:59] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 21 [Strength:10]

[14:01] Nicci Ordo was still latched on to the beast's back.  She drew her other blade and attempted to stab it again, and if successful would use the blades to try and crawl her way forward towards its giant head, catching out of the corner of her eye that Atin had been launched by the large tusks.

[14:01] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 17 [Strength:10]

[14:01] Greg Moonlight (orywest) left draw distance.

[14:02] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 12 [Strength:10]

[14:05] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor): [Wolfboar: Enraged again by their actions now turned its attention to Nicci, the axe swing from Atin merely glancing off its tusks, the real danger came from Nicci, now attached by her blades, more blood spirting from him, covering her in warm blood. it attempted to throw her off by falling backwards, attempting to crush her

[14:05] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 19 [Strength:10]

[14:07] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 13 [Strength:10]

[14:08] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) cussed as he blade met bone and did sweet kriff all, he saw the Boars attention move to Nicci, his heart pounding, leaping forward with his axe, aiming again for its head.

[14:08] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 16 [Strength:10]

[14:09] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 18 [Strength:10]

[14:11] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Your Health Score has been decreased to 4/5.

[14:12] Nicci Ordo oofed as she was rolled off the boar when it fell backwards.  Her bones felt as if they were all about to break at once with the heavy weight, and she missed her armor pretty badly at about that moment.  However, both her blades were still stuck in the creature, and she attempted to use them to cut a hole inside the boar and sever it's spine completely.

[14:12] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 12 [Strength:10]

[14:12] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 15 [Strength:10]

[14:15] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) [WOLFBOAR: Reared as he felt the red headed creature wriggle the sharp blades inside of it, it howled out in pain, a loud, primative howl, as if trying to signal something. it began to wildly swing its head, aiming for the red headed woman again, the axe swing narrowly missing its neck... the howl resonated with the trees as several mynocks flew from the canopy above, a distant thudding of feet could be heard coming towards them...

[14:15] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 23 [Strength:10]

[14:15] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 16 [Strength:10]

[14:15] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Your Health Score has been decreased to 3/5.

[14:17] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) growled, throwing his axe outwards towards the wolfboards neck, trying to slice it and bleed the creature out

[14:17] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 22 [Strength:10]

[14:17] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 17 [Strength:10]

[14:21] Nicci Ordo flew off the boar's back when it hit her with it's snout, landing on her feet next to Atin.  She could feel her rib had been bruised already but shook it off.  She was covered in boar blood and grinned at him when the beast collapsed to the forest floor.  She heard a snarl in the distance, and a loud howl of anguish but it definitely was not from the same animal or any of it's species.  A massive Gorax came crashing through the underbrush, examined the wolf-boar, and then screamed loudly at the both of them.

[14:24] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grinned at her as she landed, glad he had finally struck at the beast, giving the killing blow, the blood errupting from its carotid arteries, covering him too, he was about to say something witty when the Gorax came from the underbrush, he stood motionless for a moment, before running to retrieve his spear, grabbing it and aiming it towars the gorax, seeing in its eyes it was there to fight, he jabbed at it with the spear.

[14:24] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 26 [Strength:10]

[14:24] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 15 [Strength:10]

[14:25] Gorax Brute: Got New Name: Gorax Brute

[14:27] Gorax Brute got stuck in the eye and roared loudly at the stupid humans who dared strike it after killing its pet.  It immediately tried to stop Atin with it's foot, trying to crush him.

[14:27] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 28 [Strength:10]

[14:28] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 27 [Strength:10]

[14:32] Nicci Ordo looked waaaay up to see this massive walking carpet thundering out of the forest, apparently being furious with both of them.  She just shook her head when Atin immediately threw his spear.  It had not attacked yet but she doubted it could be reasoned with anyway.  Seeing it stomp the kriff out of Atin right next to her, She immediately tried to swing both blades as hard as she possibly could, attempting to sever the tree stalk of a leg.

[14:30] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 23 [Strength:10]

[14:30] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 16 [Strength:10]

[14:33] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grinned as he struck at the beast, his grin didnt last long as it stomped at him, hitting him as he got kicked, his nose busting open, his own blood covering his face. This was now a fight for survival instead of a hunt, wishing he had some ordanance on his side, but could already see the glory of killing the Gorax with their weapons, he struck again with the spear, aiming at the stomache, trying to rip open its abdomen and spill its innards.

[14:33] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 26 [Strength:10]

[14:33] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 17 [Strength:10]

[14:35] Gorax Brute screamed when it's leg was severed.  Blood and muscle tissue dropped ALL OVER Atin, like a shower, and as it struggled to keep a balance it fell right onto Atin's spear which did indeed make it spill its innards.  Angry with both of them, but having seen Atin go for the killing blow on its beloved pet, he attempted to pick Atin up and smash him primitively against the ground like a club.

[14:35] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 20 [Strength:10]

[14:36] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 26 [Strength:10]

[14:39] Nicci Ordo saw the Gorax go for Atin again, with it's guts spilling everwhere.  They had it on the ropes already, even if it were still dangerous.  She was tired from the boar attack but attempted to leap with her sword again and stab her sword right into the center of the monster's torso just under the chest.

[14:39] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 28 [Strength:10]

[14:39] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 20 [Strength:10]

[14:40] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) 's spear became lodged in the beast, he saw a large hand come for him, diving backwards, he drew his axe, swinging upwards at the beasts extended arm.

[14:40] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Noah Raiden(faragila Arctor) rolled 23 [Strength:10]

[14:40] [SW: RPG] Meter 1.05: Rolled 18 [Strength:10]

[14:42] Gorax Brute's heart was impaled now that nicci had stuck her blade right through it.  It had a missing leg, guts spilling everywhere, and it's arm just fell right off after Atin's axe sliced through it like butter.  With a slight whimper, it sank to it's one knee, then fell flat on it's face, dead.

[14:43] Nicci Ordo rolled away just before she was crushed by the bloody mess, panting heavily as she was somewhat covered in it's smelly guts.  "Well that was one of my...messier...experiences.  Jorval is going to be thrilled to have so much bacon though..."

[14:45] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) took a step back, falling to one knee, his torso sore, catching his breath, taking his hands and wiping at his eyes, his face covered in blood and guts " That didn;t go as planned, but aye, alot of meat..." He'd say, sheathing his axe and retrieving his spear. once the spear was away he'd move towards the boar, grabbing a combat knife from his belt.

[14:48] Nicci Ordo looked at him covered in blood, he looked absolutely savage.  "It's a good look for you.  Improvement even." she chuckled, kicking at the Gorax body a bit as one of it's huge arms was still draped over her legs.  She stood up once she was free of it. and clutched her side where her rib felt like a bowling ball had hit it.  "Anything broken?" she asked him.

[14:51] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grinned, looking down at his blood soaked self " Good look huh? I'll remember that." he took the knife, tempted to skin the wolfboar, opting to wait until they had got cleaned up.. he removed his shirt, his chest over his ribs already starting to bruise from the wolfboards tusks " Only some bruising, hurts like hell, you?" he'd ask, looking over

[14:55] Nicci Ordo moved her arm, showing her own black and blue spots on her side that were growing bigger.  "Same.  Nothing broken I am pretty sure though," she replied, looking him over more after the shirt came off.  She cleared her throat...which hurt.  "It was a good hunt.  Last time I was here I did not get the thrill of a good hunt only...fighting Soron until it was a stalemate," she chuckled.

[14:57] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) began to prepare the wolfboar for transpirt, taking his rope and bounding its appendages, he looked to her noticing the bruising " A good hunt indeed, why fight Soron, he's Skirata, right?"

[14:58] Nicci Ordo winced when he asked.  "A few Mandalorians seem to have started a rumor that the reason I have been single so long is my largely undefeated status.  They think if they can beat me in a fight, they get the honor of courting me.  Soron challenged me to a duel after happening upon me in the forest..." she replied, helping him with the rope, as it was quite a large animal and binding it up was going to go easier with two.

[15:01] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) raised a brow "Guess that means I won the honour." He'd jest, tieing the front two feet together, unsure as to what to do with the Gorax " how many times have you been defeated?"

[15:05] Nicci Ordo turned red, "I said it was a rumor!" she snapped, obviously taking everything serious because....it was her.  "Not counting Mand'alor the Reclaimer....three times in my entire life.  One by the last Mand'alor, who I later killed.  Once by Arden Kryze ((Who put it in his bloody profile under accomplishments!)), and once by Jorval Ordo.  Soron was a stalemate.  I kicked his ass in the ring later."

[15:08] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grinned simply " No smoke without fire.." He;d say unaware of her past "So maybe Mand'alor is on the cards for me then." He'd joke as he took a step back from the wolfboar, it now ready to be transported "Gorax edible?" He'd ask, unsure on its sentience, or if it was something people ate.

[15:13] Nicci Ordo scowled, "You cannot even remember where you put your ship, let alone claim that mask." she retorted back to him, not quite understanding the smoke without fire remark.  She looked as if she might puke when he asked if Gorax were edible.  "Knock yourself out there.  I am not touching that thing.  It smells.  I don't eat anything sentient or semi sentient." she replied.  She ordered her droid to bring a cargo carrier.  It did, and arrived with the floating platform, loading the boar onto it with levitation arrays.

[15:15] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) laughed " So I'll locate my ship then we'll see." He'd joke, no intention of leading the Mandalorians. " I think I'll pass on the Gorax, just a shame to leave it to rot, the Wolfboar will make for good trimmings back in the bar." as the ship approached, he'd grab excess rope from the boards legs, moving to the ships rear and attaching it to a winch, activating it to the wolfboar was brought onboard "I miss my armour." He'd say allowed, following their brisk duel with death

[15:16] The Lieutenant (jollyroger123) left draw distance.

[15:17] The Lieutenant (jollyroger123) entered draw distance (629.81 m).

[15:18] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) laughed " So I'll locate my ship then we'll see." He'd joke, no intention of leading the Mandalorians. " I think I'll pass on the Gorax, just a shame to leave it to rot, the Wolfboar will make for good trimmings back in the bar, miss my armour." He'd say allowed, following their brisk duel with death.

[15:20] Nicci Ordo chuckled. "I am sure some Ewok scavengers will find it and eat it. They eat everything...sentient or no! And yeah...I miss mine also.  That is the first time I have hunted without it since being a ge'verd.  I will admit there was a certain thrill in it, though it is easier to hose down armor, but there is a refresher on the ship, unless you wanted to trek to the forest until we found a pond or a lake...."

[15:23] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) shook his head, " We've done this naturally so far, may aswell find a lake.." he'd begin to move through the forrest, using his senses to guide him " I started hunting without armour on Tython, reminded me of being ge'verd and everything I learnt, you taught me to rely on me and nothing else, so I like to practice it in your honour.

[15:26] Nicci Ordo felt rather sticky and they were going to attract insect swarms by the millions to their bloody skin.  She did not even remember seeing a pond or lake anywhere but she hadn't trekked the whole moon.  "Yeah but, our armor is supposed to be as a second skin to us.  We are to never or rarely be without it, as the resol'nare instructs." she replied.

[15:28] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) continued to walk, using the moonlight to guide him, ooking for a glimmering reflections, after hearing what he though was water, he moved deeper into the forrest, keeping within sight so they didnt lose one another " I agree, but we can become over reliant on new technology, the Resol'nare is ancient, and sometimes we need to remember its context in the modern era

[15:31] Nicci Ordo scoffed in disagreement.  "Our armor technology is ancient as well.  The strength and design may evolve with the times but the purpose remains the same always.  To not adhere to the resol'nare is to insult our culture, to become dar'manda.  I taught you better than that." she replied.  The bugs did indeed swarm her and she was not at all a happy camper about it.  She could fight 100 foe or be put in a rancor's mouth but she HATED bugs.

[15:34] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) nodded, hearing water more clearly now, he walked up a brow of a hill and saw a lake, he grinned " I don't disagree with the Resol'nare, I respect it, I just also like to remain strong and be assured I can be reliant when well else falls away." He began to remove his weapons and kit, now completely naked, he got into the water, cool, and calm in the moonlight

[15:39] Nicci Ordo blinked when he suddenly stripped away all his clothing and got actual naked.  She had kind of just been planning to jump in clothes and all since they needed washed anyway but, upon reflection it seemed more practical to wash them separately.  She avoided looking at him and pulled off her own bloody clothes, tossing them in the pond first, though being careful with the kyr'tsad skulls she had carried around for decades.  She also put her weapons on the shore, intending to clean those later and more carefully.  She felt awkward now, but the bugs had stopped biting her.  She sank below the water to get the blood off her face, washing away the warpaint with it.

[15:42] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) turned to look at her, unashamed of the nudity " I suppose its only fair, when you dropped me on Dathomir I was naked, now I get to see you naked..." He'd say lightly, begining to use the water to clean his face and hair "Bantha got your tongue?"

[15:44] Slave's Shower T: One moment please, registering your product...

[15:47] Nicci Ordo's cheeks turned slightly pink.  "No!  Just focused on...getting all this blood off so these insects stop eating me alive...obviously," she replied quickly.  She scowled when he mentioned Dathomir.  "That was for a trial.  It was to teach you to make something out of nothing to protect yourself, to prove your worthiness of the armor you now wear.  I did not..."get" to see...you naked..." she replied, turning more red.

[15:49] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) grinned as she seemed to blush at his inquiry, enjoying poking at the tough exterior of the Alor'ad, moving closer to her " So have I proven my worthiness in your eyes, beyonf the Resol'nare?" he'd ask, sitting back against the bank of the water, continuing to wash himself

[15:52] Nicci Ordo seemed flustered.  "Of course you did, or you would never have passed your trial and become a Mandalorian.  I would have dumped you at the nearest space port and moved on, obviously."  She saw him moving closer in her peripheral and felt the waves of the water rippling toward her at the movement.  She concentrated even more on avoiding looking at him and soaked her hair in the water, watching as tendrils of blood poured from it and disappointed in the cool waves.

[15:53] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) chuckled at her behaviour " something off?" He'd ask, trying to meet her eye, never seen you like this." He found it great fun to toy with her like this, only ever knowing her as the hard ass Alor'ad of Ordo

[15:55] Nicci Ordo growled a little.  "I am fine.  It's just my rib hurts like hell is all," she lied.  Well it wasn't a lie.  It did hurt like hell, along with every other muscle in her body, but that was not why she was being the way she was.  She met his eyes for a split second then darted them away and pretended to be hyperfocused on getting clean.

[15:56] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) moved closed, placing a hand on her bruised ribs "I'll have to see if its broken..." He moved even closer now, inches apart, placing his other hand on her leg, should she not spaz out

[15:59] Nicci Ordo turned really red now, and her skin grew hot all over.  "T-that's okay you do not have to..." she said, though she didn't move or try to physically stop him.  "You do not have any instruments anyway..."

[16:01] Atin Ordo (faragila.arctor) felt along her ribs gently, moving round to face her, avoiding a corny line about instruments  he moved inbetween her legs, his hands running down her body and resting on her back noticing her skin tone change to red "I think you;ll live..."

[16:04] Nicci Ordo lost her balance on her knees a bit when he moved between her legs, and steadied herself on him, and at this close proximity she was forced to look at him.  "What...what are you doing...?" she asked, her skin feeling as if small fires were being lit wherever his hands caressed her.

-FTB-

The Inugami - Chapter 8

Summary: When Kagome Higurashi moved to the bad side of Chicago to help with her grandfather’s restaurant, she expected chaos. Being thrown into a fake gang, caught in the middle of a drug war and grudge that stretches centuries back in time, befriending a grumpy half demon along with a ragtag bunch of three other misfits… wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. High school AU. Inukag. Rating: T (some language)

Pairings: Inukag, Mirsan

Chapters: Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7

Shorts: 1. Sesshomaru

**Also on ff.net here.

“There’s a thing.”

The rest of the Inugami paused in chewing during their lunchtime to regard Inuyasha with an exasperated stare.

Miroku swallowed. “How fascinating. Would you care to enlighten us about a thing?”

Gritting his teeth, Inuyasha grounded out, “A masquerade night this Friday at that nightclub, Gehenna. It’s a known peaceful ground for Spiders and Wolves. They both go there.”

“Good for them,” Sango said dully.

After dealing out a scowl, Inuyasha said, “Well, stay home if you want. Kagome and I are going.”

Kagome choked on her water. “S-since when?!”

“Since I feel like it. What, you don’t wanna go?”

“N-no, I do, but-”

“Okay. Then stop blabberin’.”

Her heart sped to impossible rates and she stared off into the skyline while Inuyasha continued to eat nonchalantly. The others gaped, and Kagome wondered, thinking she might pass out in shock and sheer joy, if this was his way of maybe asking her out.

Kagome took a shuddering breath out and smoothed her red, skater dress for the fiftieth time. Her wide eyes continued to regard her reflection in the mirror. Her red and white bandana circled her throat, white combat boots encased her ankles. A sparkling, snow-colored masquerade mask adorned her face, edges sweeping up like angel wings. “You’re sure this is okay, Sango?”

“Kags,” Sango said for also the fiftieth time in the bathroom, shooting a glance from where she was applying red to her eyes instead of her usual pink. “You look awesome. You’re a hot, cute badass dressed to kill a man. The outfit is fine.”

“Okay,” she muttered. “Okay.” She’d managed to tame her wild bangs slightly, so that she was managing to pull off the ‘shaggy pixie cut’ look. “I can do this. I’m a hot, cute badass dressed to kill a man.”

“Atta girl.” Sango’s hair was curled and hanging down her back. She was in a red, sleeveless top and white skinny jeans with red boots that reached just under her knees. Her red and silver mask curled across and down the left side of her face to her jawline. As always, she looked absolutely gorgeous. “C’mon, the boys will be here soon.”

Of course, Miroku had asked Sango to come to the club immediately after Inuyasha had. (Kagome almost wished that Shippo was coming too, because the little fox boy would relieve her nerves, but he was too young to get in the club.) Neither Kagome or Sango actually knew if those two were actually dating… what with that random battle kiss and stuff. They’d certainly been more flirtatious, and he hadn’t chased other girls since. Sango didn’t seem to require any sort of absolution, though.

“Plenty of time to figure it out,” Sango had told her simply when Kagome asked. “I guess we’re both more focused on getting Naraku now, getting my brother back. After that, we’ll have time for all that stuff.”

But Kagome could tell Sango was excited that he’d asked her to go. She wasn’t worried about whether it counted as a date or simply an outing with friends.

Kagome, on the other hand…

“Is this a date?” she said in anxiety. “It kind of feels like a date. A double one. Does that mean he likes me? Or he still loves Kikyo and just wants to hang out for some weird reason? Since when does he like this kind of stuff? I mean, I like dancing, but-”

“Well, Inuyasha knows that.” Sango had a sweet, half smile. “Maybe he’s counting on having a good time just because you’ll be happy.”

Kagome’s face matched her dress. “B-but… does this mean he…?”

“Honestly Kags, are you blind? He’s crazy about you. Who would want the ice queen when they could have you?” Sango hugged her tightly. “Stop worrying so much! Just have fun, okay?”

Now, she couldn’t stop the grin from taking over her face. “O-okay. Thanks, Sango.”

Sure enough, the boys showed up at Kagome’s doorstep within the next five minutes, Miroku in white t-shirt that matched his simple, white mask, and crimson skinny jeans for once (which should have looked hipster, but Kagome thought in a completely platonic way that it was plenty attractive on him). Inuyasha was in his white washed jeans and jacket as always, but it still made her breath catch. His golden eyes and silver hair stood out even more shockingly with the complement of his blood-red mask.

“Well, you two both look simply stunning,” Miroku purred smoothly. “Not that I’m surprised.” He kissed Sango’s hand, then tucked it under his elbow. “Shall we?”

Inuyasha blinked at her a few times, and Kagome admitted to being slightly disappointed when all he did was gulp and jerk his head towards Miroku’s SUV. But then again, she figured she really shouldn’t have expected him to compliment her or something.

The car ride was filled with their usual banter, debating on how, if Inuyasha existed, surely unicorns did as well. After twenty minutes, they’d arrived, being helped out of the car. The club’s name glowed in green lights, Gehenna, over the entrance that was swarming with excited teenagers that had their identities sealed with a mask. Fog drifted from within, capturing the colors of the flashing lights. All but normal citizens were wearing black and purple or blue and silver. The red and white of the four of them stood out as they strode forward together, causing the crowd to part and mutter in their wake, “Inugami…”

It was Inuyasha who dished out some cash and IDs to get in, and she was surprised at how quickly they entered. Had he come here before?

The four of them pushed through the mass of people until they made it to an opening towards the side. From there, Miroku snatched up Sango’s hand and dragged her, laughing, to the dance floor. Kagome watched them with a wide smile, their happiness infectious. She turned to Inuyasha, a bit shyly, wondering if he could possibly do the same-

“Okay, we’re in,” he said, giving a triumphant grin. “Let’s do this! Faithful Jewel detector, you walk around and scan for Shikon so that no one else gets addicted. I’ll carry out part two… Kikyo is here tonight; I heard them talking about it at school. It’s the perfect chance to corner her and make her talk to me. Holler if you find something; I’ll be able to hear you!”

And he was gone.

For several, long seconds, Kagome just stared straight ahead. Unconsciously, her arms came up to wrap around herself with a suffocating tightness.

Of course.

Of course.

“I’m stupid,” she said aloud to no one, weak voice drowned out by the pumping bass.

Feeling rather as if someone had kicked her in the gut, she numbly began to walk forward. After all, searching the place for Shikon was the smart route. Their hunt for Naraku took priority over all. And their goal to get Kikyo safely back into the arms of Inuyasha. No time for fun or Kagome’s ridiculous, schoolgirl daydreams that he could ever actually want her.

Her eyes dully swept the place from behind her mask, but she honestly wasn’t sure what to expect; if this was peaceful ground between the two gangs to have fun, then surely the Spiders wouldn’t want to risk getting caught addicting others or carrying something illegal? Likely, many of them took some Shikon before they came, but didn’t bring extra…

Sure enough, all she saw were a few faint glows--how it appeared when it had already been ingested, smoked, or snorted. She felt no tugs on her gut other than her own stupid heart ache, saw no pink light other than the ones flashing with the beat that she now only wanted to escape.

With a heavy sigh through her nose, she made her way to the upper level, which wrapped around the club so that you could see into the lower level through the middle. It was near deserted, maybe an employee’s only area. Kagome couldn’t bring herself to care.

Once she’d scanned there too and from above, she found a small window seat, where she settled with her legs off to the side. It was a full moon tonight, casting silver down on her skin so that it reminded her of him.

Everything seemed to.

“-can’t avoid me forever, Kikyo.”

Kagome stiffened at the sound of Inuyasha’s voice, footsteps accompanied by smaller ones close by. She knew this window seat sat close to a corner that led to a hall… he wouldn’t be able to see her from here.

She also knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop. But…

“I know. Once you set your mind to something, you were never able to let go,” Kikyo mused. “Very well. I’ve wanted to talk to you too.”

“You… you have?”

“Of course. But you know the hold Naraku keeps on me. He has eyes all over the school. And… I was afraid that perhaps… you’d grown to hate me…”

“Why would you think that?” he answered aghast.

Kikyo was quiet. “Well, I’m an addict now. I thought maybe you’d be disgusted with me, decide you no longer want-”

“Don’t be an idiot!” Inuyasha all but shouted back. “I could never be disgusted with you… This isn’t your fault! Thinking I hate you… don’t you understand? There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t thought of you!”

Kagome forgot how to breathe.

“Inuyasha…” Kikyo sounded gentle. “Truly?”

“Truly. I’ll always protect you, the best I can. And to do that, I’m going to need to know a few things. Like how Naraku got a hold of you a year or two ago!”

There was a pause, and then, “I went to him.”

“You wha-?!”

“I heard he was an expert in demon energies. It was foolish of me not to learn more about him first, but I was determined to find a way…” “A way…?” Inuyasha prompted.

“A way to make you human. So that we could be together.”

Kagome’s mouth dropped open; she didn’t understand. Why… why would Kikyo want that? Why couldn't they be together the way he was? Kagome had never thought he would need to be human for any reason…

“O-oh,” was his response. “Really?”

“I did it for you,” she told him, which made Kagome want to barf. “And there still may be a way. Don’t you want to be together?”

“W-well I…” he trailed off, voice edging in uncertainty. And then he said nothing.

“Inuyasha?” Kikyo’s voice took a new tone. “It isn’t… that girl, is it?”

“G-girl? You mean Kagome? What about her?”

Part of her really wished she hadn’t been dragged into this nauseating conversation.

“You care about her more than me?” Kagome’s eyes narrowed. Since when was Kikyo the whining, jealous type?

“Wh-what does this have to do with-?”

He was cut off by something, and her eyes widened with realization. Feeling a cloud of dread over her heart, she slowly peeked around the corner and-

Holy shit. Kikyo was kissing him.

The girl was gripping his jacket, eyes closed gently. His own were round and bright in shock, but it only took a moment before he relaxed more--tentatively putting a hand around her waist, tilting his head, closing his eyes…

Kissing her back.

Kagome felt bile rise in her throat, and quickly turned around the corner.

Nope.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

Somewhere deep in her chest, pain was twisting. Unwilling to make it worse, she made her way to the stairs and hurried down; she needed some air.

Finally managing to push past the mass of moving bodies, and caught sight of Sango and Miroku. Maybe she could put on a brave face, march over, and dance despite whatever was going on upstairs. But Sango...she was laughing, arms around his neck, and his hands weren’t anywhere inappropriate whatsoever. Miroku’s dark eyes shone locked on Sango only as he spun her around. No… she couldn’t ruin this for them, and dancing by herself didn’t sound too appealing, for once. Losing her nerve, she she stumbled to the back door and pushed it open with a breath out. Kagome let it shut behind her after finding a rock to prop it slightly open.

She leaned up against the brick wall of the back alley, tore off her mask so that it clattered to the moist ground, shakily pushed her hair back from her face and gripped it.

Her mind kept flashing back; the words in the hall, the kiss, his determined expression as he left her alone. Kagome drank in the city air--wet, smokey, despairing.

She should have known. She absolutely should have known that this was just another part of their mission. She was here to be the “faithful Jewel detector”, as always.

It was a little cold out; Kagome gave a little shiver and rubbed her arms. But the wind wasn’t as cold as the turmoil twisting across her mind. Yes, it was so much colder when she realized that… even though she’d been so excited to come… she was the only person in the place that wasn’t wanted here.

The thought gave her a wry, snorting laugh. Figures.

Honestly Kags, are you blind? He’s crazy about you. Who would want the ice queen when they could have you?

Why had she believed Sango, who was only trying to be nice and not hurt her feelings? Maybe the blind one was simply Sango, and Kagome had seen the truth all along.

Kikyo had looked so perfect, black dress casting an alluring and delicate spell. Kagome didn’t want to look at herself for a while; she knew all she would do was compare, and that comparison would never measure up.

Kagome didn’t want to be that weak, extra girl whose mood was directed by things one boy did or did not do.

But now, on her own, with only the maddeningly silver moon as witness, she let herself slide down the wall. Maybe Kagome could let herself be that girl for a few minutes. Maybe because he wasn’t just a boy. Maybe he was her best friend, the one she was so ridiculously in love with and didn’t want to spend a day in her life without.

The thought made her choke and lower her head to stare at her boots.

“Why do you keep doing this?” she muttered, talking only to herself. “Hoping for something stupid…”

“A valid question,” came a chilling voice, one that made her bolt up and scramble closer to the door. But it was too late; the rock holding it open was kicked away, and she was shrouded in shadow only lit by streetlight, moon, and glowing, scarlet eyes.

Fear lodged in her throat, and she froze. Kagome knew that there was no way she could outrun Naraku, and sometimes he could teleport, when he could manage to exhaust enough energy to do so. Inuyasha was up and away with Kikyo. He wouldn’t hear her when he was so… busy.

No more safeties--she could take care of her damn self, and if Naraku was so anxious to be her venting punching bag, so be it.

Immediately, she dropped one arm to block and thrust the other up towards his nose, body shifting into battle mode from muscle memory. He dodged, grabbing her wrist, but she used the momentum to knee upward. Naraku dodged that too, but this gave her the chance to throw a left hook that caught his cheek with all her force. Twisting her arm from his grasp, Kagome gave a shout as she kicked his lowered face in the side.

Normally, this would completely take out an opponent. Except Naraku was half demon, and the blows hardly seemed to faze him. Instead, he got back up, tentacles shooting out and wrapping around her body like a boa constrictor. His hand was over her mouth before she could even scream.

“Been training with Inuyasha, have you?” he purred. “Impressive. Lucky he taught you, before he left your silly little band for Kikyo.”

Kagome winced at the tightness of the tentacles, their slimy, gross feeling against her arms and legs, chest, that cut off her circulation. But he didn’t loosen; only roamed his eyes over her face hungrily. “My, you do look so much like her…” Now, nothing was more horrifying than his leer. “Not quite as beautiful, of course, as you well know, and your eyes remain so much more… innocent. Perhaps when you’re a Spider, you’ll be her twin… after all, it isn’t as if Inuyasha is coming to save you. Just realized, haven’t you? That he could never see you when compared to her. But I…”

Naraku stepped closer, and she stopped breathing as if it may lessen his overwhelming, disgusting presence. “Your spiritual power… I must know why you are immune. I can give you a place of importance, make you feel special. You won’t get that with the Inugami, what with Inuyasha using you as a Jewel detector and temporary Kikyo substitute. All that jealousy and bitterness you feel towards them? I can make that your greatest power. You won’t feel weak and useless anymore. I can help you destroy anyone who dares mistreat you. It’s what you want, after all-”

At this point, Kagome had finally had enough. She chomped down hard on Naraku’s hand covering her mouth, biting down until she tasted blood. He let out a shout, jerking his hand back. Taking advantage of his loosened tentacles and surprise, she leapt out from his grasp and punched him in the stomach. She knew the smart thing would be to run around and back into the club, but she was too angry…

“Where do you get off, telling me how I feel and what I want?” Kagome seethed, flipping out the switchblade that had been strapped under her dress. “Messing with people’s emotions to get what you want, trying to turn them against each other like a game… it’s sick! You sound pathetic doing it too, like a jealous teenage girl from a bad movie!”

He snarled, and she fended off a tentacle with her knife. Panting, she spat, “I’m nothing like her! I’m like me, Kagome, and I’m damn proud of it! So what if Inuyasha doesn’t love me the way I love him? I’m not doing this just for him! I hate you and your disgusting existence, hurting people, including the rest of my friends! I’ll never be one of your stupid followers! Because all this bitterness, jealously, it’s just my damn humanity, and in the end, all it means is that I’m in love with Inuyasha! So much so that it doesn’t matter if he feels the same or not, because I will stay with him. I’d certainly never leave his side for a lowly, pathetic bastard like you!” Her knife stabbed down into his next attack. “And for the record, I can take care of myself!”

Pink light exploded from the knife, causing Naraku to shriek and recoil. The light raced up his tentacle and to his body, where it spread white and brightness that made him cringe and cower. Kagome had no idea what she’d done to make it happen, but no time to think about it now; she ran at him and gave a roundhouse kick to the head. His tentacles were thrashing about now as if in pain, eyes were closed, and curses fell from his mouth in torrents. It gave her satisfaction, and yet a tentacle ended up smashing her in the side, sending her head smacking into the brick wall. Pain flashed black and white into her vision--the world became hazy. Her knees buckled, she fell-

Close by, there was a bang, a shout of, “Kagome!” and strong arms catching her round the middle. She was pressed to someone’s shoulder, and she took in the comforting scent of leather.

“You son of a bitch!” Inuyasha roared, and footsteps followed him out the club door. “I’m gonna tear your throat out!”

“You came…” she murmured dazily against his jacket.

“Of course I came,” he said, voice softening. “Miroku, protect her and get her out of here while I dice this guy.”

“Inuyasha,” Sango said, aghast, “look!”

The Inugami finally registered the fact that Naraku was in pain from the light. “He was struck with purification magic,” Miroku said in wonderment. “Kagome… you did this?”

“Dunno how,” she muttered back, words slurring. “Just… wanted him to be gone…”

But then, a pulse of blackness raced through the alley, and the light flickered mostly out. Naraku looked to them, tears of blood staining his face. He advanced on them. “It will take more than a beginner’s attempt at purification power to destroy me. And you will become a Spider, little miko, one way or another…”

“LIKE HELL!” shouted Inuyasha. “Iron reaver soul stealer!”

The claws of wind sliced through Naraku’s skin, sending him flying back--then he was gone, body fading into the dark with a last laugh.

“Fucking coward,” Inuyasha hissed, and then swept Kagome up with an arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees. “What did he do to you? Do you have a concussion? We should get her straight to the hospital!”

“She wouldn’t need one if you were with her!” Sango shouted at him suddenly. “What the hell is wrong with you?! We thought she was with you!”

“Why would you leave her alone in a crowd of Spiders?” Miroku added, apparently not trying to be a peacemaker this time. His voice was stern, almost scary. “It was only a matter of time before Naraku would snatch her up! You’re lucky her miko powers kicked in, or she could be dead right now!”

“Sh-shut up! I’d never mean to put her in danger! I-I thought she’d be fine! No one would take her in a crowd, and she had you guys and all the Wolves-!”

“I stepped out to get some air,” Kagome said, wincing at the pounding of her head as she tried to defend him. “I-I shouldn’t have left the building…”

“Don’t you think for a second that this is your fault,” Sango warned. “It’s even easier to take someone in a crowd, Inuyasha! What the hell were you thinking?!”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he shouted, quieting all of them. “I wasn’t thinking, okay? I was an idiot, and I’ll never leave her alone again! You can beat the shit out of me later, and I’ll deserve it, but right now we need to get her to the hospital!”

“Don’t need ho-pal,” Kagome insisted, shaking her throbbing head. “Just… home. Mom can help if there’s a problem. Please… I want to go home.”

“I saw your head hit that wall, Kagome. You could have seriously damaged-”

“Home, Inuyasha. Please.”

He stopped talking, and then sighed, hugging her closer to himself. “Okay. We’ll take you home. Just keep talking; don’t fall asleep on me. You probably have a concussion.”

But the dizziness was fading. “I-I don’t think it’s that bad,” she managed, as they walked around to the front. “Really, I had him on the ropes…”

“You sure did,” Inuyasha said quietly as he buckled her into the back seat. Sango took shotgun with Miroku shooting a worried glance back before starting the engine. Inuyasha sat beside Kagome, arm around her as she snuggled into his shoulder. “I bet you were a badass, Kagome.”

“I’m always a badass. And Sango said I’m dressed to kill a man; guess I didn’t fulfill that…”

“There was blood coming from his eyes--pretty sure you’re still damn worthy of the title.”

“Good,” she muttered, closing her eyes.

But Inuyasha tapped her forehead. “Nuh uh. Eyes open. You can’t fall asleep.”

“Not falling asleep,” she said. She’d only been trying to blink away tears, but now that her eyes were forced open…

“Oh no… where do you hurt, Kagome?” he said, sounding anxious.

“Not that, I just…” Her emotions were everywhere. She’d been so scared, angry, depressed, and happy in such a short amount of time.

He was quiet, as if he was understanding why. Then-- “I swear on my life, I will never leave you alone again. I-I’ll never be able to forgive myself…”

“You came,” Kagome said. “That’s what matters.” Tears were still dripping onto his jacket. “I’m sorry… I should have been more focused on my job, tonight-”

“Job?” Sango spoke up from the front seat. “We weren’t here to work! We came to have fun…” Kagome saw her swivel around and stare at the two of them. “Right?”

Inuyasha swallowed. “W-well… I thought it might be a good chance to get Kikyo to talk to me, and Kagome to come with to look for Jewel-”

“You two-timing fuckboy!” Sango screamed, causing Miroku to almost swerve out of their lane. “You lead on one girl so that you can come here and slobber all over another? I can’t believe you! Kagome deserves better than this!”

“The hell do you mean two-timing fuckboy?” Inuyasha snarled back. “I’m not dating either one of them, and I’m a virgin! And there was no slobbering involved! I wanted info on Naraku and how he made Kikyo join! Kagome knew we were here for business, right, Kag…?” he trailed off when he saw her lowered gaze.

“Did you bother to tell her why you asked her before we went?” Miroku asked, steel behind his voice as he gripped the steering wheel so that his knuckles turned white.

“Oh.” Inuyasha grimaced, closing his eyes. “Oh damn. Shit. I-I thought…”

“It doesn’t matter, guys,” Kagome sighed, not wanting the remainder of this. “I should have known anyway-”

Sango rounded on her now, danger eyes flashing behind her blood-red mask. “Don’t you dare let him get out of this one. I know how happy and excited you were to come tonight with us, and it’s his fucking fault that you were there alone when Miroku and I thought Inuyasha was with you!”

“Sango…” Kagome said tiredly. “I just don’t want to talk-” “You… were excited?” Inuyasha said, voice unusually timid.

“Doesn’t matter if I was or not,” she told him, watching the city lights out the window listlessly. “Either way, I was clearly the only one in the place that wasn’t wanted there.” Damn, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Y-you can’t mean that,” Inuyasha choked. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I hadn’t wanted you there!”

“You didn’t want me,” she went on tonelessly. She had wanted to drop it, but now it was all flooding out. “You wanted a Jewel detector.”

“W-well you are a Jewel detector-hey!” She’d pushed away from him at those words and rested her head against the window instead.

“Just leave me alone,” she sighed, putting a hand to her eyes so that they wouldn’t show wetness.

“Says the girl that was all cuddly just a second ago,” Inuyasha growled.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I will smack you into next week,” Sango snapped at him. Kagome thought Inuyasha would protest and start a fight, but instead, he became silent.

They arrived at Kagome’s house not too long after, where Inuyasha finally broke his silence to insist that Kagome be checked for concussion by her mother.

The Inugami then sat around as Mrs. Higurashi asked Kagome questions, shined a light in her eyes. Then- “It does look like she has a minor one; lucky it’s not more, what with that big bump on her head. What on earth happened, dear?”

“Dance floors can get rough,” Miroku supplied. “We brought her home right after we saw her get accidentally hit.” Well, none of that was a lie.

“Thank you,” her mother said. “Well, I’ll give her some pain meds and ice for that bump. Sleep would actually be the best course of action at this point. I suggest you all get home and get some rest.”

“Right,” Sango said gently, putting a hand on Kagome’s back. “Take care of yourself, okay, Kags?”

“You know it,” Kagome assured her sleepily. “Sorry your night had to end early, guys.”

“Don’t you dare think of it,” Miroku said firmly. “We’re just glad that you’ll be okay. Mrs. Higurashi, would you mind if we came to check on her tomorrow?”

“That would be no problem; so sweet of you to offer. Be safe, now.”

“Text me when you get home, guys,” Kagome said as they left. “So that I know you got there.”

“Will do. Goodnight!” Miroku and Sango waved before they left. Inuyasha was still at her side, quiet. His hair had grown out a bit, so that his bangs shaded over his tight face. Standing tall and silent, casting a protective shadow over her, he looked more like a guardian angel than half demon.

“Inuyasha?” her mother said, hinting in her innocent way. “Your brother is probably wondering where you are. Do you need something?”

After a beat in which Kagome felt his eyes burn into her, he said, “No. Thank you. Goodnight.” She heard the door close.

“It seems as if he was really worried about you,” her mother said.

“Hmm.”

Pressing an ice pack to Kagome’s head, her mother went on hesitantly, “Why don’t you tell him how you feel about him?”

Kagome really hoped he wasn’t listening in. “It wouldn’t do any good. He loves his ex and I can’t compete with her. He wouldn’t accept my feelings and then our friendship might be destroyed.”

“Or,” her mother countered, sitting across from her daughter, “you could just be acting insecure and all your chances to be together the way you both want will disappear because of it.”

“Mom, you don’t-”

“Understand? Sweetheart, no one fully understands being in love. But something I do understand about it is that the most important part of a romantic relationship is friendship. It is the basis for everything, and you and Inuyasha have that.”

“Mama, he doesn’t-”

“No, you’re going to hear me out. Listen, Kagome. If friendship is the most important, than what will make your friendship strong will also strengthen any other bond. And a best friend,” her mother said, “always, always, tells the truth.” Sitting back, she gave a laugh. “Well, if your friend asks you if their dress makes them look fat and you think it does, then honesty isn’t always necessary there. But with the really important things, like how you feel, something you don’t approve of them doing… you always tell the truth, and truth takes confidence. So don’t compare yourself to that girl, and be honest with him, okay? A person deserves to know who loves them and how.”

Kagome didn’t feel like arguing. “Okay, Mama.”

Half an hour later, she was crawling into bed with ice pack still held to the back of her head. Soon after, Inuyasha invited himself in through the window, outside which he normally slept. Ignoring him, she lay down facing the wall--he finally sat himself down with a heavy sigh by her bed, and spoke. “Kagome, I’m sorry.” When she didn’t respond, he went on, sounding slightly more desperate. “I-I’m not… good with words, okay? I didn’t mean to say you’re a Jewel detector as if that’s all I think you are. I meant that you just have that ability. I wanted you there. I would have if you could detect Shikon or not. We make a good team, and it’s not the same if you’re not there.”

She still couldn’t find it in her to answer, but that just made him keep talking. “And I’ll never, ever leave you again. I figured out it was a trick to distract me and ran down to find you as soon as I could. Please believe me.”

Finally, she answered, “I believe you. I just wish you would’ve told me… why we were going. I don’t think you understand how stupid I felt when I realized you didn’t come there to spend time with me.”

“But I did want to-!”

“A good friend always tells the truth,” she bit out, turning to face him. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying!” he protested. “I was planning on hanging out with you after I talked to her! You want me to take a polygraph? I’ll pass with fucking flying colors.”

“I doubt you wanted to do that after she kissed you,” she said in return, feeling a little petty.

“Wh-what?”

“I saw you two. Heard you. Don’t play dumb.”

He was quiet, and she was surprised he even understood that it upset her. Eventually, he said slowly, “Kagome, I don’t know why she did that, okay? I was surprised too and didn’t want to hurt her. I just… I think of her every day because… it’s my fault Naraku got her. I wasn’t there to protect her when he forced the Shikon on her. I feel it’s my responsibility to free her from it, because I should have been there to make sure it hadn’t happened in the first place.”

Kagome felt herself soften. “Inuyasha, what happened to Kikyo wasn’t your-”

“I’d fought with her before it happened, okay?” he ground out. “I was mad that she was moving away. I felt like someone else was leaving me and so I lashed out at her. She did something reckless afterwards because she felt guilty, and now it’s my turn. The year she had moved away like her family had planned, she was forced to buy drugs from that bastard and get them shipped to her, forced to join the gang and be his girlfriend when she came back. I can’t let her try to escape this on her own.”

Kagome paused to let the words sink in. “I… understand why you feel responsible. But I don’t think you are.”

“That’s because you’re a fucking cinnamon roll sunshine that rejects all the bad shit in the world.” She glared, but his mouth played with a grin. “Maybe because when you’re here, the shit in the world runs away screaming. That’s what makes you Kagome.” After a moment of hesitation, he leaned up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now get some sleep. I’m not leaving your side, so don’t worry.”

“I don’t worry,” she told him, the haze of sleep already overtaking her vision of his gentle face. “Because I won’t leave you, either.”

An unforgettable alternative history fairytale series from the author of The Bone Witch trilogy about found family, modern day magic, and finding the place you belong. Many years ago, the magical Kingdom of Avalon was left desolate and encased in ice when the evil Snow Queen waged war on the powerful country. Its former citizens are now refugees in a world mostly devoid of magic. Which is why the crown prince and his protectors are stuck in...Arizona. Prince Alexei, the sole survivor of the Avalon royal family, is in hiding in a town so boring, magic doesn't even work there. Few know his secret identity, but his friend Tala is one of them. Tala doesn't mind—she has secrets of her own. Namely, that she's a spellbreaker, someone who negates magic. Then hope for their abandoned homeland reignites when a famous creature of legend, and Avalon's most powerful weapon, the Firebird, appears for the first time in decades. Alex and Tala unite with a ragtag group of new friends to journey back to Avalon for a showdown that will change the world as they know it. Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) by Rin Chupeco Publisher: Sourcebooks Fire Release Date: March 3rd 2020 Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy  Links: Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/48999217-wicked-as-you-wish Amazon: https://amzn.to/364FjcO B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wicked-as-you-wish-rin-chupeco/1131593170 iTunes: https://books.apple.com/gb/book/wicked-as-you-wish/id1483256714 Bookdepository: https://www.bookdepository.com/Wicked-You-Wish-Rin-Chupeco/9781728225289?ref=grid-view&qid=1575499879251&sr=1-3 Google Books: https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=X5u1DwAAQBAJ&printsec=frontcover&hl=es&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0 Review: Wicked As You Wish by Rin Chupeco is a very interesting story. I felt like it is a bit of a jumbled mess that deals with very important issues. Chupeco tackles issues like immigration and refugee policies, child abuse, family separations, and so many other government issues. I feel like all of these are super important issues but the rest of the story just didn’t keep up with the important topics. This story felt very much like a witch’s brew. Add a sprinkle of fairy dust, newt’s eye, some frog legs, and whatever else you put into the brew is what I feel like Wicked As You Wish came out to be. It is a mix of magic, fairy tales, urban, fantasy, magical realism, contemporary, I mean it is all in there. I think this is a book that would be great for the right kind of person and I feel like that wasn’t me. There was just too much thrown into this book for me to truly enjoy it. I did find the characters to be quite entertaining. I felt like Chupeco did such a great job with the characters. They were diverse and fun. I thought they were really able to drive the story. The world building was pretty great too. The books takes place in the real world except that fairy tales are true in the story. This book definitely had its ups and downs but I think it is also fun at the same time. Excerpt: The firebird arrived in Invierno later that night. It landed atop a normal-looking mailbox. The mailbox had a Tawalisi, 22 Dharma Road decal printed on its side, and it stood in front of a normal-looking house on a normal-looking street in what was by all appearances a normal-looking suburb. This house was situated between an old folks' home and a small bungalow, bordered on one side by a small cul-de-sac. Despite the town's predilection against natural magic, most people still didn't associate Invierno as a place where anything unusual was likely to happen. That didn't say much about what people actually knew about small towns, or about Invierno in particular.   Rather than retreat to the safety of nearby trees and rooftops as any similarly sensible animal would have done, the firebird drew itself up, as regal as any queen, and waited for the shades to attack. The shades in question were already closing in, and they assumed frightening, monstrous shapes. Some took human form, with long sharp claws in place of hands. Others took on semblances of wolves and bears and strange winged creatures; black eyeless silhouettes with teeth. The firebird chirped a warning, but the shades paid no attention. So it sighed, a resigned, I-really-did-warn-you-about-this-you-know sigh, and glowed again. It was as large as an eagle, and had a fascinatingly plump shape; a ham of a bird would be a frank description, if not for its long graceful neck. Its feathers, a variety of yellows and reds and oranges tipped with a subtle silver shimmer, flared. Its majestic tail fanned out like a vestal train, whipping at slow, concentrated intervals. It chirped out its first, and final, warning. The nearest shade reached out for the bird, claws extended and sharp. It was promptly engulfed in an angry red ball of fire. The shadow screamed. Its right arm skittered across the pavement. Flames danced around the firebird. With unerring precision it reared back and hurled them at the other shadowy wraiths, bathing the street in ruddy red heat until its enemies were reduced to nothing more than a whisper of cinders and smoke. But even as they sank, new ones rose to take their place. The shades were numerous, unrelenting. The firebird was young, inexperienced. Despite its ferocity, even it began to weaken under the unending assault. And things could have ended very badly, had Lola Urduja not interfered. Lola Urduja looked nothing at all like a warrior should look. Framed against the moonlight she appeared an incredibly fragile and elderly thing, with her mild brown eyes, dark skin, and thin white hair wrapped in a wispy bun. For armor, she wore an oversized peach bathrobe a size too large for her slim frame, and was for some reason still carrying an abanico fan in her right hand. But when she lifted her head to confront the lurking shadows her back straightened, her shoulders squared, and the once-mild brown eyes blazed with an unexpectedly commanding air that proposed other unimportant things like cars and airplanes and even shades should best get out of her way.  "This house is under the protection of the Katipuneros, by Avalon military decree number one oh eight two," she boomed, in a voice larger and fiercer than her body size allowed for. "Take another step and be snuffed out like the insignificant shadows you are, you reverse-projected, two-dimensional Jungian rejects!" The shades halted momentarily, as if puzzled by the old woman's audacity. But all too soon their inexorable natures reasserted themselves, and they continued their relentless trek forward. "Beta formation code one three five, defensive maneuvers!" More people of indeterminate old age emerged from hiding places behind bushes and trees, vaguely threatening only they had not been wearing bathrobes. But they were armed… with more abanico fans, a cane, and in one instance even a makeshift shiv, because General Luna had once been in prison for three days and had subsequently Learned Things there. And they were good at it. They knew where to hit, how to inflict the worst hurt. Shadows shrieked as the innocent-looking fans—or more specifically, the hidden blades lining the edges of the thin abaca fabric—dug into them, twisting and grasping, until soon even the endless darkness showed signs of faltering. "Teejay," Lola Urduja said, "shade at five o'clock." The tita, her hair still pinned up by large rollers, obeyed, punching a fan through the shadow's chest before it could reach the other woman.  "Hold your position, general," Lola Urduja said to old General Luna, who had planted himself in front of the house next door. "Don't let them in!" "Mga antipatika!" The octogenarian barked, then cheerfully shanked a shadow into nothingness. A few of the shades crept toward her, sentient enough to recognize the little old lady's importance, but Lola Urduja lunged, was quicker than her limp suggested. Her fan twisted, and the sharp knives underneath the stretched cloth tore into the creatures like they were wet paper. She whipped it toward another approaching shadow, and an abrupt flick of her wrist summoned a sudden roaring wind, slashing the darkness into pieces without ever making contact. The firebird and the elders fought the shades all night long. Finally, as dawn touched the sky with the colors of sunrise, the last of the creatures slunk away, disappearing into the sidewalk just as quickly as they arrived. Wearily, the firebird watched them leave, the flames in its feathers dimming. When the last flickered out, it sighed and closed its eyes, returning to its perch atop the mailbox. Adrenaline faded, was taken out of the elders' veins like an IV drip. They mumbled and scuffed at the ground with their good foot and looked rightfully embarrassed. This was technically not appropriate behavior for old men and women, though the awed grins had some trouble leaving their creased faces. Hadn't seen this much action since Wonderland, Boy signed. "Nakakamiss," Chedeng murmured, reverting briefly to Tagalog. "Good times." "Punyeta," the general agreed. "Natakot ba natin?" Baby asked Lola. The little old woman pursed her lips. "No. They'll be back. Umalis na kayo. Won't be good for Tala to see us out here on the lawn, she’ll have questions." "The firebird is here," Chedeng said, not without some awe. "Mare, it really is the firebird!" "Control your excitement, Mercedes. This is far from over."   The door to 24 Dharma Road opened and Kay Warnock emerged with a can of beer in hand, yawning. "So good of you to help," Mrs. Sarge said dryly. "Y'did a good enough job without me." "A little too early to be drinking." "On the contrary. After what just happened, I think it's a fine time to start." About the Author: Despite an unsettling resemblance to Japanese revenants, Rin always maintains her sense of hummus. Born and raised in Manila, Philippines, she keeps four pets: a dog, two birds, and a husband. Dances like the neighbors are watching.  She is represented by Rebecca Podos of the Helen Rees Agency. She is also fond of speaking in the third person, and may as well finish this short bio in this manner. While she does not always get to check her Goodreads page, she does answer questions posed to her here as promptly as she is able to.  Links: Website; https://www.rinchupeco.com/  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7055613.Rin_Chupeco  Twitter: https://twitter.com/rinchupeco  Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/rinchupeco/  Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rinchupeco/  PRE-ORDER PROMOTIONS Promo 1: If you pre-order WICKED AS YOU WISH on or before March 1, 2020 you will also receive a character card of Tala and an enamel Order of the Bandersnatch firebird pin! ·         US/ Canada pre-orders: https://t.co/5c7lQTI3Os?amp=1 ·         International pre-orders:https://t.co/eCZvNLcWj1?amp=1 Promo 2: From March 3rd – 31st 2020, the author be hosting an Instagram giveaway for WICKED AS YOU WISH (https://www.instagram.com/rinchupeco/)! Just post a photo of the book with the hashtag #PRETTYWICKEDASYOUWISH and every participant will receive book swag! (Alex character art card + character stickers). The Alex card will only be available during promos and not for the pre-orders! Giveaway: 1st Prize: Win a signed copy of WICKED AS YOU WISH by Rin Chupeco + 3 character stickers (Alex, Tala, and the firebird) + 2 character cards (Alex and Tala) [INT] 2nd Prize: Win (1) of (3) character stickers from WICKED AS YOU WISH (Alex, Tala, and the firebird) + character cards from WICKED AS YOU WISH (Alex and Tala) [INT] Starts: February 26th 2020 Ends: March 11th 2020 a Rafflecopter giveaway Tour Schedule: https://fantasticflyingbookclub.blogspot.com/2020/01/tour-schedule-wicked-as-you-wish.html February 26th The Unofficial Addiction Book Fan Club - Welcome Post February 27th NovelKnight - Guest Post Here's to Happy Endings - Review The Layaway Dragon - Review + Favourite Quotes Dazzled by Books - Review dinipandareads - Review + Favourite Quotes February 28th Struck by Stories - Meet The Characters L.M. Durand - Review Sometimes Leelynn Reads - Review + Playlist + Dream Cast Fanna Wants The World To Read - Review Alys in Bookland - Review February 29th Bookish Looks - Top 10 List The Book Nut - Review + Playlist Starlight Reads - Review A Court of Coffee and Books - Review + Favourite Quotes Shalini's Books & Reviews - Review March 1st Books_andPoetrii - Character Playlist Foals, Fiction & Filigree - Review + Favourite Quotes Shelf-Rated - Review Mahkjchi's Not-So-Secret Book - Review + Favourite Quotes Stuck in the Stacks - Review March 2nd Utopia State of Mind - Character Playlist Hooked On Bookz - Review The Reading Corner for All - Review hauntedbybooks - Review + Favourite Quotes Confessions of a YA Reader - Review March 3rd Musings of a (Book) Girl - Official Dream Cast Kait Plus Books - Top 10 List Yna the Mood Reader - Review + Favourite Quotes Book Briefs - Review Biblioxytocin - Review + Playlist + Favourite Quotes

http://www.dazzledbybooks.com/2020/02/wicked-as-you-wish-blog-tour-review-and.html

How do Manchester United solve their midfield conundrum after Crystal Palace defeat?

While a new wave of Manchester United attacks crashed onto the rock of the Crystal Palace defense, Old Trafford echoed again with moans of frustration.

United fans had seen their side owned 71 percent and yet fired only three shots at goal, the first of which arrived in the 58th minute.

In the end, United & # 39; s lacked the lead it deserved – an unexpected 2-1 defeat that thoroughly and truly pierced every good feel-good factor from Ole Gunnar Solskjaer.

Manchester United struggled for creativity in midfield home loss against Crystal Palace

United manager Ole Gunnar Solskjaer gives instructions during the shock Old Trafford loss

And with the transfer window long since closed, it exposed an area w here United could not strengthen this summer.

With a forward line from Anthony Martial, Marcus Rashford and Dan James, this United team is blessed with the speed that goes forward.

That was a treat in their season-opening 4-0 win over Chelsea, who came to Old Trafford to attack but made himself vulnerable to United's rapid counterattacks.

But faced with opposition in Palace who wanted to defend and hold themselves Arm-length united, they missed a player who could choose a penetrating pass

.

Dejected United players think about a disappointing afternoon against Palace in Old Trafford

[19459002InretrospectUnitedmayhavepushedalittlehardertosignadefensivesplittingpasserbyinthesummerbutinsteadgaveprioritytotheirdefenseandattack

So with another hard-to-break team waiting for them this Saturday in the form of Southampton, Solskjaer Will have to make do with a tactical adjustment in midfield.

But what are his options and will they achieve the desired effect?

How did United settle down at the moment?

It has been a consistent 4-2-3-1 system for United in their three opening games in the Premier League.

Pogba and Scott McTominay have formed the basis of midfield in all three games that are expected to protect the defense, as well as

Against Perez Chelsea, Andreas Pereira started in the No. 10 role with Rashford left and Lingard right.

But Pereira made no impression that afternoon and was replaced by Lingard's central position for Wolves' 1-1 draw, with James on the right.

Andreas Pereira started the season in the No 10-roll for United, but has since lost weight

Jesse Lingard is busy during Saturday's match against Palace in Old Trafford

This was replicated against Pala ce, but it soon became clear that United had become very dependent on the individual runs of their attacking speedsters to create opportunities.

With Palace leaning back, Rashford, Martial and James noticed that they encountered dead ends instead of highways.

What United shouted for a lock-picker to slide in passes behind the back line of the palace as these faster players advance.

Get the best out of Pogba

Pogba was inevitably the man United turned to a moment of inspiration as the Saturday game continued.

But the Frenchman was burdened by the duties of his deeper station next to McTominay and could not fully commit himself to the attack.

He tried to play as far as possible, but it was finally his home on the ball that invited a tackle from Christian Benteke that led to Patrick van Aanholt's injury time winner.

So much is expected from Pogba and this was a theme so lskjaer picked up the game from Saturday when he said: & We know that we don't have Roy Keane, Veron, Scholes, Giggs, Cantona in one player can get. & # 39;

Pogba expresses his frustrations during the first defeat of the season of United

Against the likes of Palace – and Southampton – perhaps it would be better to position Pogba farther forward alongside Lingard in an advanced midfield behind Martial in front.

If Pogba knew that his only job was to pass and create, rather than having to cover, he could even improve the already impressive 55 chances he created last season.

It would cause a bigger burden n on McTominay of course, but a back line that seemed considerably stronger for the summer acquisition of Harry Maguire should be able to withstand most teams.

This 4-1-4-1 would do Rashford and James everything, but United would also bear the extra threat in the middle.

Dan James celebrates the late equalizer of United on Saturday – but there was a late twist

Time to bring Kata back into the fold?

Juan Mata has just played 18 minutes this season and there were enough irritations that it would be 85 minutes for the Spaniard to get off the bench against Palace with United behind.

Kills is now 31, but you have passing skills and set-pieces skills that set him apart from the other forward options from United.

His eye for an effective pass would have been useful on Saturday and he has often made the difference first opponents defending in numbers.

Although his lack of pace makes him less useful in more open games against better opposition, Mata certainly plays a role at United.

There is certainly a case for playing him in the No. 10 position against Southampton on Saturday as a counterpoint to all that pace

Juan Mata is one of the few United players who can deliver a defense-splitting pass

Back to a 4-3-3?

Solskjaer, especially during his caretaker who was in charge of Old Trafford last season, a favorite on 4-3-3 formation as he watched to get the most out of his players.

Rashford, Martial and Lingard would form the foremost three, with Pogba, Nemanja Matic and Ander Herrera in midfield.

Herrera left in the summer and has not been replaced, while the days of Matic on Old Trafford also seem to be numbered.

The Serb has reportedly demanded his own talks with Solskjaer because he feels ignored because he has not yet played this season.

Matic can become stiffened, given that McTominay continues to place consistent displays in the same position and Solskjaer, who wants to put an emphasis on youth, favors him.

So McTominay and Pogba can be combined with Kills in a midfield three that still offers a nice balance.

Nemanja Matic seems to have disappeared from Solskjaer's favor in United & # 39; s midfield [194590010]

Scott McTominay remains deliver consistent performance on the basis of United & # 39; s midfield

Is there a chance of a diamond in midfield?

There were a couple and matches last season when Solskjaer bets 4-4-2 with a midfield diamond. One of them was in the 1-0 win over Tottenham in an attempt to match the Mauricio Pochettino system.

You could theoretically have a diamond with McTominay at the base, Pogba on the left, Kills on the right and Lingard at the moment, with Martial and Rashford ahead.

But the more compact form deprives United of the pace that Solskjaer seems to cherish, although it could certainly be an option in games against the top six.

Is there a way back for Fred?

It seems that United is sticking to their £ 52 million Brazilian maverick Fred despite interest from the Italian club Fiorentina.

He played in 25 games in all competitions last season, but struggled to reach the rank and his outings for Solskjaer in the spring coincided with a collapse in shape.

The £ 52 million United signs for Fred seems to be ready for another bit-part role during this season

If Fred does not move before the European transfer window closes on Monday, he is probably alone this season involved in the national cups and the Europa League.

But given United & # 39; s lack of options in midfield that Herrera and Marouane Fellaini lost in the past year, they may need him.

He plays in the two of a 4-2-3-1 on the rare occasions that he is likely to be selected.

Source link