#“watch out!”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

For She Was Afraid

Sigh Not So | Secrets Hid Away | Shed Tears Aplenty | Fire Down Below | Rolling Down | Won't You Go My Way? | The Seas No More | The Nightingale's Song | Bones in the Ocean | For She Was Afraid |

CW: Magical whump, nonhuman whumpee, creepy whumper, it used as pronoun for nonhuman whumpee

-

"You have had this power a year," Atabei hissed as soon as the door to the study closed and the two of them were alone. Her hand around his arm felt like claws digging in to his skin, she had gripped on so tight. "And you have killed two people?"

Gilly swallowed, looking around to avoid having to face Atabei directly. The study had a large wooden desk - Eliza's late husband's apparently, from the old-fashioned design, the masculine weight and size of it. Correspondence scattered across the top, with a few books at one corner, and comfortable chairs on either side.

The walls were lined with bookshelves. There must have been two hundred books in this little room, and this wasn’t even the library.

Being the young widow of a very rich man had its benefits, Gilly supposed, and it seemed Atabei’s lady love had made the most of all of them.

“Guilford!” Atabei snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, making him jump. “I asked you a question!”

"I know! I know, my sincerest apologies-... it’s just, I didn’t kill two people…. Well, I did, but it was only one done with purpose," Gilly admitted, shamefaced, stopping to touch the spine of one particular tome. This shelf held Atabei's books on magic, carefully inconspicuous in a study full of reading material. In golden relief, the title read An Uncertain World: A Treatise on the Toa Volcano and Its Magical Properties as Befits the Pursuit of Certain Sciences. He was nearly asleep from boredom simply finishing the title. "The other was… well, very much so an accident."

Atabei stood with her back to the door, arms crossed. Here at home, her hair hung loose in its thousand braids, a glimmering waterfall of black, and she wore pants much like his own and a loose white shirt.

"An accident?" Atabei huffed an irritated sigh, fixing a glare on him he could feel even without looking up to see it. "I am not as stupid as you must think me to be, Guilford."

"No! No, Beibei, not at all. I'm not lying to you." He went to her, but she did not look at him directly. Her jaw was set with the stubborn distaste he knew so well, but had almost never seen aimed at him. "The ship's captain had a weak heart. When I commanded the siren to make him too afraid to tell what he was, it gave out. I did not mean for him to die."

“And why did the captain discover what the siren was in the first place? Hm?” Her changing accent was heavier here at her home, too, the low drawl more pronounced. Her eyes flickered to his and then away again, but it wasn’t weakness.

Not with Atabei.

“You did not keep him clothed?”

Well, no. He hadn’t. But Gilly didn’t think that was relevant. “He… misunderstood the nature of my connection to the siren. He thought it was a young man, and that…” He trailed off, face burning with embarrassment merely retelling the conversation, the captain’s sly accusations and subtle threats. “Well, the captain thought… he thought…”

Atabei’s voice was desert dry and even less forgiving. “He thought you were fucking him.”

“Beibei!” Gilly’s mouth dropped open in shock. “I’ve never heard you speak so vulgarly!”

“And yet now you have, and I am the same Beibei I was when you first made me flower crowns,” Atabei said, and there was a gentle teasing softening her voice that made him think perhaps she wasn’t truly angry, or not so angry he could not break through it anyway. She took a deep breath. "I can see now. He threatened you, threatened to expose you, and you thought the siren could help wipe his memory clean.”

Atabei didn’t need to know any of that.

“Yes, yes exactly.” Gilly leaped on this lovely lie, so much kinder than the truth. Better than telling her about the captain suggesting he might make good use of such a fine young man with such a lovely face and strong, lithe body. Better the softer lie than the truth of Gilly’s answering negotiation into sitting in the corner and watching it happen. Better than admitting that the captain had been pushing the siren down onto the bed in his quarters when the creature had sung him into fear. Or that Gilly had made sure the ship believed fully that the captain had died in flagrante delicto with a pretty passenger, which the crew had seemed… unsurprised by.

In any case, she swallowed, keeping her eyes on the windows with their heavy drapes on the other side of the room. "Fine. I can understand the accident. And the other?”

“Not an accident. The widow Neumann, who let me the rooms I was staying in?”

“Yes, the sweet little old lady.”

“... right. That one. Well, her death had a purpose. She left me everything, you see. I am… a wealthy man these days. If I had small ambitions, I would have enough to live on in comfort for the rest of my life.”

Atabei’s eyes searched over his face. “You have larger ambitions.”

“I do. This is only how I begin, Beibei. I’ll be a king, or more, before I am done.”

She nodded. There was a distant sadness in her, as if she mourned the gift he had asked of her, that she had given him. “You want that more than anything. I am happy I could help you take the first steps on your path.”

She moved away from him to sit behind the massive desk in a well-loved leather chair, leaning back and putting her feet up, crossed at the ankles. She was so very different here at home, with the coastal breezes fluttering over the drapes. So much more herself, more like how she had been when they were children. “Is there evidence? Can they trace it back to you?”

“No, no.” He waved away her concern, taking his own seat on the other side, wishing he had a glass of liquor in hand, but�� Atabei was not one for alcohol here at home, and he knew there would be none unless this mysterious Eliza enjoyed it. “I was with her, but… she signed with her own hand, steady and strong. You couldn’t possibly have said it was forged. I mean, it wasn’t. I watched her sign each and every one.”

“Hm.” Atabei looked a little confused. “And then?”

“Then she drank a glass of strychnine mixed with wine, and died.”

“I didn’t know she had such a fondness for you as all that,” Atabei said, her expression of confusion deepening, although her wry humor was still intact. She even smiled, just a little, as he head tipped back against the back of the chair. “It is a great love one must feel for one’s downstairs tenant to drink deadly poison simply to expedite the tenant's inheritance.”

“Ha! I hated her more than any other soul and I daresay she did nothing but pity me, but it didn’t matter. I brought my sea creature up with me, and had it sing to her. After a while… she began to see things my way. I did her a kindness, really, if you think about it. She would have died in terror eventually, alone in her gigantic house, her little dog chewing on her toes-”

“Guilford, please,” Atabei said, face paling. “Let’s not talk about that.”

“Right. Anyway, this way she had someone she adored with her at the end, and I even gave her little dog to a friend of hers.”

“You hate that dog.” Atabei’s eyebrows raised again. “You used to joke about tossing it into the ocean for the sharks.”

“And you will yourself note that while yes, I did say that, it was a joke. It wasn’t the dog’s fault it was bred and born to drive me absolutely raving mad with its noise and that it had to be the size of a small tea kettle. The stupid thing is living a life of sheer luxury with the widow’s oldest and wealthiest friend, who has a dozen servants on hand at all times and a granddaughter who will no doubt adore the dog’s decidedly ugly smashed-up little face. And the way it breathes…” He shuddered.

“I… all right. Well, that is reassuring.” She tapped her fingernails on the desk, utterly at her ease in here. It must be her study and hers alone, now, if she kept her books on magic in here and felt them secure. “But… wait, Guilford. You said you had the siren sing.” Atabei’s eyes widened. “The siren’s song doesn’t work on women. It is well known. Only men can be fooled by their voices.”

“I know, I know, but it did work on her. And it’s worked on… three other women besides, since then. I’ve tested it.” At Atabei’s thoroughly nonplussed expression, Gilly flushed and hastened to add, “Simply to make them forget they had seen its markings, Beibei! I’m not a monster.”

Besides which, he had the siren itself to slate his lusts on now. Something about the way it still sometimes wept with his hands around its neck or dropped its human glamor to bare rows of sharp teeth without any ability to use them on him did more for his desires than any woman’s softness ever had.

The siren was a creature who should have torn him limb from limb, but Guilford controlled that power, that ferocious rage. It took real effort not to have arousal overtake him just thinking about it.

“Good. I will not aid a man who uses such a power to do harm to women.”

“I am not a man who has any intentions of doing any such thing,” He said, a little soothing, leaning forward. His elbows rested on his thighs. Downstairs, somewhere outside and presumably sitting under a tree or something, the siren began to sing. It was nonsense notes, something trifling, without any power to it.

Guilford had been pleased with it, and given it leave for the occasional making of merry tunes to pass the time, as long as it only cast a spell with its voice when Guilford commanded. He enjoyed seeing its pathetic gratitude at these small mercies, ones he could remove at any time for any reason or even no reason at all.

Sometimes he did, and forced the siren to debase itself all the more in order to earn them back.

Atabei looked over to the window, tensing slightly until she could tell there was no new magic in the air, nothing to try to override her own. Then she sighed and looked back to Gilly, nodding slowly. “Perhaps it works now because it is your will and not his? Since it’s not his magic any longer, only yours, that must go through him. Maybe that’s why… Hm. Fascinating. I will have to read more on this, try to understand…” She trailed off. “One wonders why no one has captured a siren for these purposes before.”

“Who says they haven’t?” Gilly raised his hands in question. Half-hidden by a stack of books that had never been placed back on their shelves back behind Atabei, he saw a small portrait that had been set on the floor, sticking half-out. In it he could see a woman, a man, and a little girl.

“Remember the Verenni king, a few hundred years ago?” Gilly spoke while looking over the portrait, letting his thoughts wander as he considered the family of three. “He came from the Sea Peoples, from nowhere, and it seemed like he took over every land he touched for half a century until he was killed in battle. Maybe he had a siren who sang what he wanted, and someone killed the siren first. It’s possible.”

The man in the portrait was older, hair already silvered, with a prominent beard. The woman clearly decades younger than her husband, and with the solemn look of those who must pose for hours in heavy dresses. The little girl looked very much like her, but for her nose.

“True. But why haven’t we heard of it? It should be in every history book…”

“Unless, of course, the people who come up with how we remember our histories don’t want anyone to know sirens can be so used-”

Outside, the sound of a carriage, and the siren’s song stopped. Atabei all but leapt to her feet in a sudden panic, interrupting Guilford. “Eliza! She won’t know not to talk to him-” She ran for the door and down the stairs, Gilly pushing himself up to follow her.

Atabei darted like a silverfish through clear water - he could hardly have hoped to keep up with her speed. He heard her cry, “Eliza, watch out!”

By the time he made it out the front door, huffing and puffing, Gilly saw quite the tableau.

Atabei, holding the siren’s arm with a grip so tight Gilly knew he would have lovely new bruises to appreciate before he slept tonight, was speaking in a rush to a lovely woman wearing a simple dress and tilted, wide-brimmed hat that kept the sun off her skin, with a little girl standing beside her dressed in the pantaloons and shirt common to the young.

“-was only saying hello,” The woman - who must be Eliza Howe - was saying, affronted. She had the heavy molasses accent of the northern colonies, as if she considered every word before she spoke it. “I can handle a simple polite greeting of a guest, Bei.”

There was a tremor to her voice, though, that suggested she had been relieved Atabei appeared so quickly.

“He is not a simple guest, ‘Liza,” Atabei said in return, her tone apologetic even if her words weren’t. “Remember I told you about Guilford Wentworth, and why I had to go visit him in the islands?”

Eliza turned back to the siren, who was trying subtly to pull himself free of Atabei’s grip, and failing. The monster looked away from her, confused and uncertain. Gilly felt himself think strange, strange thoughts - it has no idea what’s going on. It meant no harm. He shook himself and strode forward, catching up to the little group. The siren cringed away from his very presence, and he ignored the stir of desire that roused in him.

The little girl hid herself behind her mother, peering out with wide eyes.

“This is the thing that Guilford Wentworth captured? This? Bei, this is clearly a man,” Eliza said, and then caught sight of Gilly. Her expression pinched. “Oh, and here is another. Who... is this, then?”

“This is Guilford,” Atabei said, with a smile, gesturing to him. He bowed to Eliza, and she inclined her chin just barely to him. “Guilford Wentworth. Guilford, this is… my wife, Eliza Howe, and her daughter Sirene.”

“Siren,” The creature said, speaking words aloud for the first time. Its had an accent after losing its ocean-tongue, something that sharpened each syllable. Its eyes went to the little girl, who looked at it in something between anxiousness and wonder. Its expression was much the same. “The young are called siren?”

“Sirene,” Eliza corrected, uneasily emphasizing the differences in pronunciation. “It’s her name. She’s a girl, a-a human girl.”

“A girl, yes, this I see,” The siren said, and Guilford blinked. Had it-... used the same wry humor that he and Atabei had always enjoyed, in that sly tone? He would beat it for the pretense later tonight. Beat it black and blue and bloody and begging. “Siren is… human name, then? What I am, siren, is a name given to human girls?”

The monster stepped forward, leaning down to look more closely at the little girl even as Eliza grabbed her arm and held tight.

Its gaze reminded Guilford of his visits to the Royal Zoo, the way sometimes the great apes of the Largest Continent would watch the visitors to the zoo right back, with much the same expressions of awe and delight. Gilly thought about how deeply uncomfortable that sight made him, the bars that separated them from the people only a few feet away. The identical expressions. The reality of the strength and power the bars held in check.

“Sirene,” Eliza repeated, stepping back, her eyes flickering between Atabei, Guilford, and the siren. She looked more nervous and uncomfortable with every passing moment. “It isn’t the same.”

“Oh. I see. Hello, Sirene.” The siren emphasized the name now, too, the same way, although it didn’t seem mocking. More like it had simply decided that this was the way to pronounce the sounds, to mimic Eliza’s humanity. “I am a siren.”

“Hello,” The little girl whispered, without coming out from behind her mother's skirts. “It is very nice to meet you, Mister Siren.”

The siren’s face changed. Gilly realized, with a start, he had never seen it try to smile before. The siren tipped its head to one side. “It is very nice to meet you. Is that what humans say?”

The little girl frowned. “When they are polite it is.”

The siren made a sound - Guilford felt irrational fury when he realized it was gentle laughter, musical and melodic. "Polite is good?"

"Yes." The girl nodded, solemn as the grave. "One should always be polite, Mama says."

The siren's seemingly gentle smile faded slightly. "Mama," It repeated, voice low. "Sirens call ours mama, too."

The girl nodded, as if this made all the sense in the world. Eliza, though, gave Atabei a look of something like panic. "Bei-... What have you done?"

Atabei cut her eyes at Gilly and he cleared his throat, stepping forward, blocking the siren from the little girl's line of sight. “You don’t have to say hello to it, Miss Howe, and it is not a mister. It’s not a person. I know it looks like one, but that’s a silly little trick it plays on people. It’s more like… a dog, maybe.”

The little girl looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. Her face - and voice - held a faintly hostile accusation he didn’t understand. “I say hello to dogs, too."

“Right. Well. Hm.” Gilly blushed, and wished he could order the siren to sing this whole moment out of existence for them all. It only made him angrier. “Perhaps not the best example…”

Eliza swallowed, stepping back, the girl moving with her in a stumble, slightly surprised. “Ah… Bei-... can you-... he’s very… very close to me, you see-... the sea thing is, I mean… but also your friend..."

“I understand.” Atabei pulled the siren backwards and shook its arm. “Don’t move. Let my wife go inside. Be still, sea creature.”

The siren stood, even without the magical compulsion, and watched as Eliza ushered the little girl away and back down the stone path to the front door of their home. She glanced a few times over her shoulder as she went, waving to the siren. "Goodbye, Mister Siren!"

"Goodbye, Sirene!" The siren called out. Guilford smacked it on the back right over some new marks from the belt he'd used on it last night and it cried out, stumbling before it caught itself.

"Silence!" Gilly hissed, and hit it again. And again. And again-

Atabei caught Gilly's arm in her hand and clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Not here, Guilford. Eliza fears the anger of men. Her late husband was… unkind, when upset. Unkind to her."

“Of course.” Guilford nodded, already breathing hard. He pushed his glasses back up his nose instinctively. “We won’t trouble your beautiful wife with this nonsense. Simply show me where I can put it and it will not be seen by anyone other than you and I."

Atabei found a smile for him, and he smiled back, and for a moment - the two of them out in the grass of a front yard, with a rope swing tied to a large tree branch off to one side and a herd of cows lowing somewhere just beyond sight behind a hill - it felt like they were children again.

Atabei looked over the siren, who didn’t meet her eyes in return, staring down at the ground in the way Gilly had painstakingly taught it to. Her smile faded into a frown. “So, two deaths-"

"One by accident, remember!"

"... and wealth. What comes next? Where do you go after you finish your visit here?"

“Oh, that’s an easy question to answer,” Gilly said, watching as the siren, ignored again, crouched down and stared openly at a line of ants crawling along within the grass. “I’m heading to the northern half of the Largest Continent, back to visit my... mother. Where we will become significantly less estranged, thanks to this thing.” He kicked the siren lightly in the thigh, watching it wince without moving, attention still focused on the insects below it.

“Returning to the line of inheritance,” Atabei said, nodding, crossing her arms before her. “I see. And after she no doubt dies quite a tragic and well-mourned death?”

“Well… then maybe the next time we see each other face-to-face, I won’t be Gilly Wentworth, down on his luck sailor surgeon any longer. I’ll be… King Wentworth, or Emperor…”

“You aim high,” Atabei murmured. “You want to be like the Virenni King, the conqueror. They killed his siren, Guilford, if your theory is true. They killed the power he used and then slaughtered him as well, on his own battlefield, with one blow.”

“Right, well. I’ll be careful.” Gilly reached down, gripping into the siren's curls - he never tired of its soft hair, the way it tensed and shivered every time his fingers moved along its scalp - and pulled. It immediately tipped its head back, knowing the command by instinct without even needing to hear it by now. Its breath caught, and he knew if he touched beneath its jaw its pulse would be fluttering, like a horse about to bolt.

But it couldn’t go anywhere at all.

His mouth felt dry, just thinking about it.

“Your magic worked, it worked so well, Beibei. I can make it do anything I want, make anyone do anything I want, and no one who isn’t under its spell is ever going to know about it.”

-

"Except me," Atabei murmured, a strange tremulous quality in her deep voice. "Except for me, and mine."

Gilly, for the first time, looked into the eyes of his oldest friend and realized that if he could use the siren's power on women too, then even Atabei was not safe from him, not truly, and she knew it.

Atabei was afraid of him.

Gilly's eyes went back to the siren, who was looking up and watching the wind rustle leaves on a nearby tree. The creature's lips were parted, just a little, as if at any moment the song would begin.

Gilly smiled.

"Let's go inside," He said, smoothly, "And have tea."

Tag list: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings

For @whumptober prompts 19, 21, 22

[whumpshots]

Whumptober #22

Trope of the day: “Watch out!”

_

Whumpee is already wheezing when they get up from the ground, blood trickling from the wound on their forehead. Their knees feel weak, but there is not much time left. They just have to continue, have to try.

When they finally see whumper, they try to call out to them, but it feels like their lungs are out of air. Instead, whumpee waves their arms in hopes of alerting the other, who finally looks up and catches up to them, hurrying from their hiding place to help them with their last few steps.

But that's what their attacker has been waiting for and with the last bit of breath left, whumpee calls out “Watch out!” Just when the shots rings out and hits caretaker in their shoulder, making them stumble and almost collapse.

As fast as their hurting body lets them, whumpee finally catches up to the other and drags them with them back into the hiding place. They want to scream, want to ask if they are okay. But nothing leaves their lips.

[little-peril-stories]

Whumptober 2023, Day 22: "Watch out!"

Whumptober 2023 Masterlist

Read at your own risk! They're only snippets of a larger story, with no resolution that will be posted online anytime soon; they are being posted out of order; and the characters don't have names. Enjoy!

Contents: no whump lol

Masterlist | Next

Word count: 1350 || Approx reading time: 6 mins

"Watch out!"

Teaser: “Oh, I know you,” she said. Something about the words sent tingles down his spine.

“The heart wants what it wants.”

“Where are you taking me?”

She stared up at the towering library, her cheeks flushed from the sweltering heat. The scholar, too, was hot in the summer sun, and he was certain she regretted following him to a place where even the shady trees on the library grounds could not dispel the heavy warmth that lay over the city like a blanket.

“It’ll be worth it,” he assured her, wiping sweat from his face. “I promise.”

“It better be,” she said. The words were sharp, but her tone was airy, and she was smiling. He beckoned her forward, stepping through the heavy wooden doors that led into his favourite place in the world. An entire palace he’d had as a playground when he was a child, but it was this building, this library, that felt like home.

“So, this view of the ocean you promised me,” she said, “it’s a picture in a book, isn’t it?”

“How did you know?” For a moment, he feared she would spin around and leave, but she didn’t, and he relaxed. If anything, she seemed relieved to be in cool air, a respite from the humidity. She sighed softly as they walked toward the staircase, their footsteps like whispers.

“Oh, I know you,” she said. Something about the words sent tingles down his spine.

He led the way at a languid pace, taking each step slowly—partially because he wanted to savour every moment they spent together and partially because he didn’t want to be winded when they got to the top.

“Are we going to the roof?” She figured it out two-thirds of the way up; he should have known she would. When he nodded, delight crossed her features—the loveliest thing he’d ever seen. “How do you even know how to get up there?”

He thought back to his days as a student, to the long hours he and his classmates had spent avoiding their studies and watching the sunset from the highest point they could get to without getting chased away by angry lawkeepers. “You’d be surprised by the things people will do if it means avoiding studying for an exam.”

She laughed, the pealing-bell sound ringing through the air. “Did you have to take a lot of exams?”

“A few. The first two years, anyway. It was a lot of reading and writing by the end.”

“Hmm,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You haven’t been outside in years, have you?”

“I think that’s a little hyperbolic.”

She glanced up at him, brows furrowed, repeating the word more slowly.

“Sorry,” he said, his face heating. “I meant, it’s an exaggeration.”

But she smiled and said, “Don’t be sorry. You’re a teacher. I just didn’t realize I was one of your students.”

“You mean you’re not only here for my impressive vocabulary?”

“Well, now you’ve found me out. That’s the only reason I came along today.”

He watched her out of the corner of his eye; she was doing the same to him. “I feel so used.”

She pursed her lips, stifling a giggle, and began—to his eternal horror—to take the steps two at a time. “Come on!” She shook her head at his reluctance. “Your legs are long enough. You should be at least one floor ahead of me.”

“Aspirational,” he mumbled, “and highly unrealistic.”

“You think I can do three?”

The panic-inducing image of her falling and breaking her neck came to mind. “Please don’t.”

“I bet I can,” she said, and jumped.

Annoyingly, she could leap up the steps three at a time, which was bad news, because after her first success, she kept it up, and the scholar had to suffer through a frantically palpitating heart each time he thought she might fall.

“You don’t want to try?”

“I’d like to stay alive,” he replied, making her roll her eyes, but he gave it a try, taking a wide step as calmly as he could, clearing all three steps.

“Show-off.”

He smiled down at his feet and hoped he wouldn’t somehow trip over them before they made it to the roof.

Relief swept through him when they arrived—not at having survived the walk, although that was a positive thing, but for another reason entirely.

They hadn’t missed it.

“Watch out,” he said automatically, eyeing her as she climbed over the extra-tall step from the stairs to the roof. “We’re pretty high up.”

She sent him a look that said, You worry too much, but he didn’t mind. She could find him as annoying as she pleased. As long as she didn’t plummet to her death, he could bear a bit of good-natured scorn.

“Looks like the area’s still in use,” she said, pressing a hand to her mouth to hide a laugh and raising her eyebrows at the unsightly selection of detritus left behind by some very untidy and inconsiderate students—bread crumbs, an old chicken bone that had been picked clean, a questionable-looking spill, and glittering shards of broken glass. “There’s definitely no studying happening around here.”

“No,” he agreed, mortified now to have brought her to such a mess. “Although…there never was to begin with.”

“Never took you for a party person,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

He wasn’t, which he reaffirmed, and with a chuckle, she moved away from the door, heading toward the railing that separated her from the sky above and the city below.

“I see what you mean about the view.” Her words drifted on the breeze, but he caught them—snatched up that gentle voice that could soothe even the most furious of tempers. He imagined each sound floating on the wind like shaken petals, like pearly raindrops, like stardust. “It’s beautiful.”

Yes.

“Wait until the sun sets,” he said. He had to clear his throat before he spoke.

She turned back to look at him with her clear-eyed gaze, shaking the silk sheet of her hair, making it glow red in the light of the sinking sun. “Aren’t you going to come see?”

“I can see from here,” he said.

“Oh, that’s a translation I know,” she said with a grin. “I’m afraid of heights.”

“Incorrect,” he said as heat swept his face.

“Oh, sorry. I don’t want to get too close to the edge. I was close enough.” She held out her hand. “I won’t let you fall.”

How could he say no?

“You still came here for your wild parties, even though you’re scared of being up so high?” The grasp of her fingers tingled for a moment. He ordered himself to calm his racing heart.

“I mean, I just came up with everyone else.” He shrugged. “And stayed away from the railing.”

She lifted his hand and placed it gently against the barrier, letting go—but resting hers next to his, close enough that he could still feel the shivering, lightning-bolt warmth of her skin. “I promise not to push you off.”

“I was unaware that was something you were considering.”

“Only when you use words I don’t know. Like hyperbolic.”

“What if I promise to translate them right away?”

“No, it’s all unforgivable, I’m afraid. Just not death penalty, pushed off a building unforgivable.”

He had to check her expression to make sure she was still only teasing. She was waiting for his glance, as if she expected him to be unsure, and she laughed when she caught his gaze.

The ocean sparkled in the distance. In truth, the scholar had come up here with the other university students due to social pressure and nothing else, but the promise of the gleaming sunset over the crashing blue-and-white waves had drawn him back every time he told himself he’d never again subject himself to the horror of a late-night “studying” session that never involved a single minute of studying. It had made the pain of loud shouts, raucous drinking games, almost-fights, and near-topples off the library roof worth it.

From the way she froze, gasping, as the sunset reached its fiery red-and-gold peak on the horizon, she agreed.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she breathed.

Neither have I.

Masterlist | Next

[crimsonlyinglilly]

No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

Yesterday was Uryuu learning Shikai, today is the Ban-kai incident and how he became squad 11's unofficial fourth seat.

----

Learning Shikai started as a nightmare and became a gift, Yudokuna was a comfort and sense of safety and a reminder that he could choose what he was, that he still had some control over himself. 

Bankai was the opposite, he felt pride, almost excitement because when he finally managed to make out the words the spiders had been whispering to him, he said them aloud during a spar at the 11th. And it took the control he thought he had away.

“Ban-Kai. Spawn and consume all, Yudokuna.”

He loses himself as the voices stop and he becomes them, his mind and awareness being torn apart into the thousands and their overwhelming hunger swallows him. 

—--

Later he will ask how he missed Uryuu’s calling out his Bankai.

It was a normal afternoon and Yumichika was sunning himself while watching as Uryuu taught several new recruits why he was an unofficial seated of squad 11 when Yumichika notices, almost a moment too late, Uryuu’s Spiritual Power turns hungry in a way he is uniquely familiar with.

“Watch out!” he calls a useless warning, already throwing himself forward in shunpo, he gets there just in time to block with a Shikai he hadn’t called, it saves the unseated from death and Uryuu from the guilt he’d feel, but even then they are all thrown through the wall behind him. 

He recovers quickly enough to return to block again, Kujaku’s warning clear enough in the fact he took this form without being called, the spiders he can see are another warning. Crawling out of the sword, spreading out from Uryuu, growing more numerous as Uryuu takes their surroundings apart.

It’s the third hit that he notices that Uyruu is weakening the bonds of reishi, and he looks up to see Uryuu normal blue eyes are a mix of gold and pale blue and he wonders is Uryuu even knows where he is before he block again and realises his mistake. 

Fuji Kujaku cracks slightly before pain erupts from his chest and blood appears in his vision. He looks down to see the uniform of his chest torn and blooded as his chest cracks the same way his blade did.

He barely notes his struggle to breathe as Ikkaku’s shouts and he’s pulled away.

He blinks up at Ikkaku’s face. When did he move?

“S- st- stop him.” he gasps out, he wants to say more that ‘he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’ll never forgive himself if he doesn’t destroy himself first,’ but can’t as blackness consumes him.

—

Yumichika wakes to Yachiru standing above him. He notes the Captain’s thunderous signature outside the room, almost hiding Ikkaku’s and causing the smaller ones around the to avoid, apart from ah-

Captain Unohana and a rare angry Isane, they were at the fourth.

“You noticed before me.” she asked, he tone a little too sharp to go with the grin.

“They changed.” he answered the unasked question, sitting up stiffly. The gaping likely fatal wound was gone, leaving an ache. Uryuu’s Spiritual pressure had changed the moment he went Bankai as was expected but the way his power kept changing wasn’t normal nor was the bloodlust and rage that entered Uryuu normal tightly controlled movements.

Or the hunger that echoed Yumichika and Kujaku’s own.

“Did you see them?” Yachiru asks her hand fisting in the sheets, and he’s more than a little concerned at the uncurrent of violence in her body.

“Yachiru.” the Captain drawled before Yachuri tore the sheets, she dropped the sheets and Yumichika finds he likes the sadness that replaced the violence even less.

“The spiders.” Yumichika speaks, as he remembered the flickers in his vision as he crossed blades, the feeling of crawling at the edge of his Reiryoku.

“What? What spiders?” Ikkaku asks as he comes closer, leaning on the bed next to him, Yumichika ignores the way Ikkaku stares at his chest, likely still seeing the way he has cracked open even with the blade touching him.

“Who’s the woman then?” Zaraki asked, apparently reading something from Yachiru’s mood, letting the despondent Yachiru climb on shoulder.

“The woman is Yudokuna, but their bankai was the spiders.'' He spoke looking at Yachiru for agreement, she nodded.

What spiders?” Ikkaku asked, again ignored.

“They can’t be what they should,” Yachiru sighed sadly.

“That was why they lost it.” he commented as it suddenly came together, Uryuu had always been an odd mix to his senses, normal Shinigami mixed with something other, Quincy since he had learned.

Uryuu normal Reiryoku always seemed to lean more to the other, the Quincy than Shingami which made sense since he was a Quincy first and he was still attached to his living body. Their Shikai was the closest they had come to perfect balance between both halves yet during Bankai the Shingami had overpowered his Quincy and in an attempt to balance it they lost control.

He was suddenly very aware why the Quincy’s were such a danger, Uryuu had torn the building apart taking the Reishi into himself with every breath and step while he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing.

He would have taken the men apart the same way, he remembered the feeling of the poison, the familiar burn hiding something else as he felt the Reishi in his blood weaken, in Shikai he was strong enough to fight past it, Kujaku screaming in panic before his lost conscience. The way Uryuu had cracked his sword the same way he had his chest.

“How was he stopped?” a cold lump formed in his throat.

“Baldy distracted him before Kenny got there. Then he brought you here.”

“He managed to block three of my hits, could have done more but he lost his footing in one of the holes he made himself and went through a wall.” Zaraki explained

“Though?” He has a picture of the wall disintegrating around Uryuu and adding to his power.

“The normal way, not the new take things apart bit by bit.”

“After that we followed you and baldly and brought Ryuu here.”

“Captain Unohana treated you first.”  Ikkaku tells him, before adding ”Good thing, the little prince would be gutted to wake up to find he killed you.”

Which was the reason he had gotten involved, even if he had overestimated himself, after all the work he and the rest of eleven had gone through to install a proper enjoyment of fighting in the boy the last thing he wanted was pointless guilt to ruin it.

“He’ll be banned from using that. Shame kid’ll be a damn good fight once he figures out how to control it.” Zaraki adds, Yachiru sighing from his shoulder in agreement

Yumichika doesn’t mention how unlikely that is, but then again Uryuu should never have managed Shikai and Yudokuna was persistent.

“They’ll probably make him a new collar to make sure he can’t.” Ikkaku concluded with a shrug

“I don’t think they can.” he admitted.

“What do you mean, fifth seat Ayasegawa?” Isane’s voice was sharp; the normally timid lieutenant was staring at him coldly.

“He's been leaving it on to follow the rules, I’m sure he could have removed it himself at any time.” 

“The reason it came off now is because Yudokuna got rid of it.” Yachiru explained. “normally Ryuu doesn’t let her.”

Which is a great comfort that the only thing stopping Uryuu from taking apart their surroundings was something he chose to leave on, well the boy had style since he covered the collar with his high necked capes, Yumichika took comfort that at least his student had style.  

“His injuries have been healed.” 

“And the rest? That boy will put up a fight but he’s far too soft hearted for actually hurting someone.”

“A natural healer.” Captain Unohana gave them a sad smile. “he will be relieved you are alright and have no hard feelings.” she said directly to him, Yumichika smiled back ignoring the raised hair on the back of his neck the captain’s words, they much like the question Yachiru woke him up with, had too much of an edge to ignore.

“Of course, we’ll just have to keep working on his Shikai.” he meant every word, because like hell was he giving up training a kid who could do that while looking magnificent, take him out then go up against Ikkaku and the Captain.

“That’s good.” Captain Unohana said with a beautiful smile, her lieutenant followed her sending one last look at him, he sighed not doubt he would have the prettier of 13th third seat around demanding an explanation before Renji returned from his day off catching up with friends to find out that Uryuu was sent back to the fourth early.

Isane only has a backbone when it comes to her captain, and her younger siblings’ health.

“Kenny, can we have extra cake next time Uryuu comes. To make up that he can’t play properly.” he hears Yachiru ask as they leave, Ikkaku hanging back as he pulls himself up to follow.

He’ll send a nice bolt of fabric with Yachiru to ensure Uryuu knows he has no hard feelings.

[isharaneith]

Whumptober 2023 – No. 22

“They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

Like, reblog or comment if you save, please.

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober Day 22:

"They never saw us coming, 'till they hit the floor."

Glass shard | Vehicular accident | "Watch out!"

Alt. Prompt: no.4 decoy

Fandom: Voltron

Prompts used: All

So this one is a little rushed as well, cause I wanted to put so much but needed to keep it short lol. Like with day 21 I tried to do angst with another character, but Lance still got most of it. I have too many headcanons dudes. Also the lyric was used like an inside joke, I will come up with a moment if someone asks lol.

TW for OC character death and like mentions of Lances near/death experiences.

…

Space was weird.

They all knew it, each new experience up here reminded them that their life was this crazy mess now. That they had to figure out how to face everything as it came at them, because it could mean the end of their lives or that of the universe if they didn't.

Lance knew this intimately, he'd looked death in the face a few times from different distances, had kissed him once for the briefest moment- though it left a chill in his bones even still. He wonders if Shiro has that chill sometimes, the man never seemed cold, but that didn't mean anything really.

He stares at the mess before him, ears ringing, cheek pressed against the cold floor- where was his helmet?- and shards of glass- the space equivalent anyway, he couldn't recall the name- scattered everywhere he looked. He moves his arm across the floor, the drag of something in his arm stinging something terrible, to help push himself up. He had things to do, he had to make sure the team was okay, there were bad guys to beat.

His body protests every movement, but as he gets his knees under him, gets his bearings, what he's supposed to be doing comes back to him like a hammer to the gut.

"Quiznack. Alright Lance, you have a job to do."

Standing is hard, but he handles it with a spite like determination, his helmet is nearby, the view screen cracked and pretty beat up, but necessary for his mission. The comms are wrecked, a squeal in his ear, static, a word or two, and more feedback than anything, he switches it off.

"Looks like I'm on my own." What's new?

He adjusts his armor, grimacing at the red color, so used to the familiar soothing blues, but it's temporary, it had a purpose. His wrist HUD is a little glitchy, and he finds a large shard of glass sticking out of his arm, but his directions are visible and the shard- shars probably- is fine for now. Something about pulling it out seems like a bad idea without bandages- a bitter thought about how his original armor definitely had bandages in it crosses his mind but he pushes it away.

"Alright, big bady shouldn't be far, just plug in the device, get his attention and run. You got this, you can handle this." The building- the one belonging to the overlord of this planet, the overlord they are trying to overthrow to free the people- is surprisingly neat and guard free as Lance makes his way through the halls towards the grid he's supposed to plug the device into. "Keith better appreciate this."

It's even more worrying to find the very important server room where the grid lays to also be unguarded, but he's gonna take what he can get. Once the little light on the device Pidge gave him turns green, he leaves the room, seals the door, and begins part 2.

"Alright, Mission pretending to be Keith to distract the bad guy is a go." He mumbles.

Pulling his bayard out he takes a deep breath, and runs.

Keith paces the length of his cell, fury burning in every nerve. He can't believe he got captured, and he wasn't even on a dang mission! He was just shopping! But he'd asked about Voltron- he just wanted to hear how they were doing- and someone had heard and suddenly he was being interrogated by some huge guy who hit like a quiznacking truck, and they wanted the Red Paladin, but Keith was a Blade now, Lance was the Blue-Turned-Red Paladin and he wouldn't freakin tell this snoz where Lance was.

But now he was alone, with at least a broken rib if the wheeze in his breathing meant anything, with no way out unless he could get this dang darn door to-

Open…

The door just, opened. No one outside of it, he hadn't done anything to it- besides kick it, but his foot just hurt from that so- and now it was-

"Don't have all day, dummy." A voice- oh so familiar- comes from the electric lock pad on the door, Pidges little gremlin hacker head laughing on the screen.

"Pidge, how did you guys even know I was here??" Keith steps out of his cell, looking around the deserted hallway.

"Kolivan noted your absence and didn't tell us he was worried, or to come find you, nope."

"And you guys came to find me? How'd you hack in remotely?" Keith is touched that not only did Kolivan contact his team for him, but that his team came for him at all.

"Keith, I will literally answer all your questions if you can get out of there alive. Lance is distracting the big guy-"

"What!? The really big dude that hits like a truck!?" Keith feels panic swirl in his aching gut, but Lance was probably distance fighting so it was fi-

"He'll be fine, he's being you, now get out of their numbskull."

"What do you mean, being me?"

"Seriously Kei-"

"Pidge! The guy has been looking for the Red Paladin, he beat the quiznack out of me for information. Please tell me Lance isn't-"

"Keith." Shiro's voice filters through the small speaker, "Get out of there, and Lance will follow the plan."

"The plan, Shiro please tell me you didn't purposefully send Lance-"

"He's the Decoy, because you are the Red Paladin Keith-"

"You did a whole damn show about how I definitely wasn't the Red Paladin anymore! Shiro this guy has no guards, he doesn't need them, tell me where Lance is or so help me-"

"Pidge-"

"No! You didn't tell us any of that!! Keith he's in the East wing of the building! Hurry! We lost contact after his pod entered the premises!"

"Shit!" Keith takes off down the hallway, telling his protesting body to shut up, he had to get to Lance!

Lance is beginning to think the universe is telling him something. Like yeah, it has been telling him a lot of things- he's working on it- but this 'always close to dying' thing was getting old. Like, he gets it, he sucks, but chill.

He ducks under another swing, keeping his breaths short as he bends, and comes up to shoot at the hulking aliens back. His skin sizzles and he roars, but he simply turns to come at Lance again.

"You've got issues dude." Lance pants, head spinning.

“Perhaps, but one will be taken care of as soon as I am through with you.” He growls back, taking Keith’s luxite blade from his waistband and raising the dagger threateningly.

Lance gives his own growl,

“That doesn’t belong to you.”

“What, are you going to take it?” He taunts, giving no time for a retort as he lunges.

Lance grits his teeth, his blaster changes last second, flashing into his sword form as he counters the downward strike, twisting just enough to fling the blade from a meaty hand, however, it does not stop the bulldozer from hitting Lance. He grunts, back hitting the wall, sword pinned between them.

“Your time is through, Red Paladin.”

“They never saw us coming,” Lance gives a bloody grin to the confused tyrant.

“‘Till they hit the floor.” Keith’s voice is a growl to join the club, his blade- now elongated- slashes across the aliens back.

Like Lance's shot, it only has the alien lashing out in anger, but Lance is free to join Keith.

“You were supposed to run.” The Cuban comments.

“And let you have all the fun?” Keith gives him a once over, glaring at their opponent angrily at the damage done, “Nice sword.”

“You’ve missed a lot.”

“Then let’s finish this sharpshooter, and you can tell me all about it!”

The battle is on once again, though this time they are on the offensive. Fighting side by side like they’d been doing it all their lives, their team would probably be shocked. Lances bayard changes forms fluidly, Keith hadn’t even known it could take so many for one Paladin, he really had missed a lot. They have the alien tyrant beat, he’s finally swaying on his feet, another blast to the knee and a cut to his ankle, has him going down hard.

“Ha! ‘Till they hit the floor!”

Lance's face, obscured by blood as it is, lights up in a way Keith realized he had missed very much. In the few video calls home he’d made during his time with the blade, the team had seemed different, Lance had stood on the edges, a frown on his lips that unsettled Keith. He never wanted this smile to leave the Cuban again. He moves closer, hand outstretched, to say something, when the smile falls,

“Watch out!”

Keith is shoved out of the way, as Lance takes the charging alien in his stead. Everything seems to blur as time slows and speeds forward at the same time somehow, Keith’s ears ring, his feet feel like he’s running through sludge, there’s a shout, a noise, the tumbling figures stop moving.

“LANCE!” He shoves at the lifeless form, dead weight taking all his might to roll off. There’s a smoldering hole between his eyes, and Lance is wheezing but alive.

“S’ry mullet, gonna need yer h’lp ag’n.”

“I got you, sharpshooter. Just stay with me.”

“Yer bad at math too.” His mumbles taper off, his eyes sliding closed.

Keith doesn’t remember getting him to the Castle, doesn’t recall getting him into a pod, but he's stationed before one now, refusing to leave Lance's side until it spits him out, because he knows Lance hates them. Shiro, or rather his lookalike, is in stasis in another pod, Lotor too even further apart from the Cuban. Things had gone to shit, but they could handle it… together.

[thegreenleavesofspring]

Max sees the accident coming but there's nothing he can do to stop it.

[jianghushenanigans]

Whumptober Day 22: "Watch out!"

Time slows down. Her body slows down with it. Her mind races on, running through what feels like thousands of options, but all she has time to do is shout “Watch out!” and push.

The sword pierces her shoulder instead of Yan-gongzi’s spine.

Gong Yu has imagined, thousands of times, what it might be like to put her own body on the line to try and protect the chief, to finally get his attention. She had never imagined that in the moment it would be Yan-gongzi she wanted to protect.

She had never imagined that it would hurt quite this much.

It was always a very romantic gesture, in her imagination. Full of tender words and worried glances. Maybe a stray hair tucked behind her ear. She had never lingered on the injury itself – that wasn’t important to the fantasy.

In real life, the pain is the only thing that’s important.

It starts in her shoulder, sharp and deep, and then it starts to spread. Her whole arm is on fire, dropping uselessly to her side. She crumples to the ground.

Agony. She hates it. There is nothing heart-warming or romantic about this. She needs… she needs something else, something to focus on.

“Gong Yu-guniang! Gong Yu-guniang!” Yan-gongzi has placed himself in front of her, defending her from any approaching soldiers, occasionally glancing over his shoulder, calling her name. There is concern in his eyes, genuine worry, that seems to melt a little when she meets his eyes.

There’s a brief lull in the fighting, enough for Yan-gongzi to crouch in front of her.

“I’m alright, Yan-gongzi,” she lies, though from the look on his face she has not mastered the art in times of pain quite as well as the chief has.

Yan-gongzi raises an arm, as if he’s going to comfort her, but it stills before he can reach. It would be inappropriate, after all.

“Just stay there, Gong Yu-guniang. This will be over soon.”

She hopes so, one way or another.

Crossposted here on ao3

[paintedcrows]

Did anyone tell Ford (bonus doodles: Family Movie Night, 70s Classics)

[as-i-watch]

Between the lesbian that cant beat the monsterfucker allegations and the autistic man with the special interest, she really underestimated her crowd

[modmad]

hey! there's zero esims left for the connecting gaza campaign as of today. i remember you promoting them earlier. could you give them a much needed boost?

oh dang! unfamiliar with that particular campaign, as I always donate via crips for e-sims because it's super easy to do, but regardless let's go people!

[shesmore-shoebill]

"I had choice paralysis :(" is a KILLER line.

He's such a comedic powerhouse, I'm glad more people are getting exposed to him :'D

[tuttle-did-it]

David Tennant for Prime Minister, please.

edit- Since this is getting so much attention, edited to include descriptions of screenshots.

This woman has lost her fucking mind.

Jo, are you okay?

[thatrandomblogsays]

I’m so happy for them

[Image Description: Castiel from Supernatural is saying I love you, underneath is an image of Dean Winchester with the caption: “After four months of striking the WGA has a reached a tentative agreement & finalizing the contract. If all goes well writers will get to return to work with better pay and protections. They did it. Go unions”]

(Source)

[anna-scribbles]

so this summer i am nannying a 5 year old who loves miraculous ladybug (my dream) & every day she asks if we can play ladybug and chat noir at the park. these are some comics based on our various games<3

[stuckinapril]

Incredibly alarming that talks of “peace” in Gaza seem to extend no further than a ceasefire. How do you think they’re gonna start off where they left off themselves? Their houses are destroyed, so many have lost mothers and fathers and brothers and children, they still have no clean water and no food. Any area Israel withdraws out of is an area it already knows has been rendered inhospitable. There was even a direct quote by some IOF soldier gleefully stating how he “wasn’t sure Palestinians could go back to their homes.” So what happens when the US “succeeds at negotiating a ceasefire”? Who will be responsible for helping the Palestinians rebuild all that they’ve lost?