Makarov sat in the enemy base, a scowl on his face. Despite all previous methods they used to get him to speak, he remained stubborn and kept his mouth shut. He wouldn’t spill anything to these fools, no matter what, he told himself.

Until the man standing infront of his chair that he was tied up in smirked slightly, looking back to another man. “Go get ‘em.” He commanded to the other soldier. Makarov looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to figure him out.

Until the other man came back with you in tow. Your tiny wrists were bound, so tight your circulation was being cut off, your innocent eyes wide with fear and confusion. When you laid eyes on your father, Makarov, you immediately attempted to run towards him, since he was your source of safety, despite his rugged and aggressive demeanor. However, you were yanked back, by your hair, drawing a wince from you.

Makarov was furious. “What the fuck is this? Youre going to hurt my child?!” He shouted, his voice getting increasingly louder and darker.

As Makarov shouts with anger, the man gets in his face. “Yes, if you don’t start telling us everything we want to know. Youre a criminal, you don’t deserve mercy.” He spoke, his voice just serving to get Makarov more angry. “And neither do any of the makarovs, that share your demented blood. If this child is what gets us what we need to save peoples lives, so be it.” The man holding Makarov captive says.

Makarov jerks at the ropes, causing the chair to scoot slightly but the rope remains firm on his wrists. “This is ridiculous!” He spits, his voice filled with venom. “Get your putrid hands off my child, you imbecile!” When they don’t listen to his order, he only gets angrier, definitely not used to this. “Let go, right now!!” He demands, his russian accent getting thicker with his anger. “If you even lay a hand on my child, youre going to regret it for the rest of your worthless life!” He shouted at the men, who shoved you.

“You don’t want them! You want me! Let go now!” He shouted angrily.