#The urge to design characters with these wings is strong

[constancium]

OOOOUGH THOSE WINGS WOULD BE SO COOL FOR A CHARACTER

LOVING THE WING SHAPE

Treehole antlion, Cymothales sp., Myrmeleontidae

Photographed in Mabira Forest, Uganda by Frank Deschandol

Shared with permission; do not remove credit or re-post!

[ukusreticence]

crimson has help running the shade district, wanted to doodle concepts of the people who help him

specifically because i wanted to make this meme and i needed bodies to do it for

[sjsmith56]

The Fae Elements, Part 6 - Of Love and Loss

Summary: While still in mourning Buck and Sage get married, then undertake the Solstice ritual to install her fae powers. Just before the final part of the ritual, disaster strikes.

Length: 8.2 K

Characters: Buck, Sage, Hope, Thor, Sam, Steve, Maria.

Warnings: Grief, guilt, mild sexual content, violence causing extreme injury, violence causing death.

Author notes: AI images were created by the author using Microsoft Copilot app in Designer mode. This is a long one, but it covers a lot of territory. I hope you liked this version of a fae world that co-exists alongside the modern one. Bucky with wings is 🔥. The pagan wedding vows have been taken from the website my wedding vows.com. They were slightly amended to use the term Creator instead of God, since pagans didn't worship one god.

<<Part 5

🌳 ⛰️ 🌊 🌕

Buck left the bed during the night, awakening me as he pulled himself out of my arms. I held onto his hand for several long moments, while he hesitated at the side of the bed.

"Don't go," I whispered. "Let me help you."

"I won't be long," he answered. "There's something I must do, and I can't rest anymore until I do it."

He left out of a door that seemed to lead to a terrace. By the time I got to the window he disappeared. I wanted to tell someone then I heard Hope's voice in my mind.

"It's alright, my brothers are with him," she said. "They go to comfort Richard's family. Meet me in the library if you don't want to be alone. The way will be shown to you."

I was still dressed from the previous night, but the clothes felt rumpled and uncomfortable, so I changed into a robe-like dress, then combed my hair and left the room. The way to the library was lit with a blue glow and I opened the door to where Hope sat in front of the fireplace. She smiled at me as I approached, reaching over and squeezing my hand as I sat next to her.

"I'm glad you were with him," she said kindly. "Mortals who write about the fae world think we don't care about our children like they do, but we feel just as deeply for them, worrying about their welfare, and hope we're raising them to be strong individuals, whether fae or mortal. Richard was a wonderful man, married with four children and eight grandchildren, one of them pregnant with his first great grandchild. He was a teacher, but in his retirement, he volunteered for a home building charity, sharing his love of carpentry that my father shared with him. His death will impact many people."

"I'm sorry. It seems like you all loved him very much."

I felt a wetness on my cheek and wiped it away.

"It's not your fault," said Hope. "You're not to blame for his death. They would have found a way no matter what. That they chose Richard was meant to weaken my father. He's been a strong king who has been incorruptible though they have tried." She smiled sadly at me. "The battle between the light and dark is elemental in itself. The universe was cloaked in darkness until the light exploded into existence billions of years ago. It is an eternal struggle to maintain the balance."

It didn't make me feel any less guilty for being enough of a distraction that Buck's attention was diverted away from his mortal son. Hope talked with me for some time, until I must have fallen asleep in the library, for I found myself waking up in the bed again, with Buck spooned behind me. The curtains were drawn so that we were in darkness, but it was obvious by the sunlight bleeding through the cracks in the curtains that it was the middle of the day. Carefully, I turned so that I faced him. His face looked so peaceful in the dimness of the room, but a small crease was still evident between his eyebrows, proof of the burden he carried, even in his sleep. A sudden urge to kiss that crease in the hopes of smoothing it away overcame me and I pressed my lips onto it. When I pulled away a smile was on his lips.

"A valiant attempt," he murmured. "Daere tried many times to remove that in the same manner. She called it my worry mark."

"I'm sorry I woke you. I feel so helpless. Thought a kiss would help."

"It does, more than you know." His eyes opened, tired but still bright, searching my face for a moment. "It doesn't seem fair that our marriage will be preceded by the murder of my son, but the Dark Overlord planned it that way. He uses terror and grief as a weapon, not realizing that for some people it is a crucible that makes them stronger."

"His family?"

"Will be taken care of," said Buck. "They will want for nothing, except the presence of their husband, father and grandfather." He stroked my hair. "I felt him die, while you were gathering food. Then you called for help, and I knew they had done it to gain access to the sanctuary. Even for a dark fae, it was a heinous act, for mortal family members are supposed to be safe from harm, by an agreement made in the days of the first fae king. The Dark Overlord has made it clear he has no regard for any of the laws that govern our kind. It means war between us. Only my remaining sons and I will attend Richard's funeral in two days time, as Hope has committed to staying for your protection. Many light fae are being recalled here to protect you."

"I'm not worth it," I answered, not feeling like I was compared to those he had sworn to protect when he became fae king.

"Of course, you are. You are a part of the sacred tree. Fae from other domains, the cold places, the ocean, the mountains, even from the hot lands, are sending help, for you are a descendant of the oldest fae family, the one that civilized us and made us more than tiny beings of mischief."

He kissed me then and we laid in the dark for a little longer until several thoughts were sent to us, to get up and face the day. After showering together, we dressed and made our way to the dining area, where the big table had been replaced by several small tables, as the big one could only ever seat 13 guests, no less and no more. Buck's other sons, Arthur and John, were there. Almost perfect duplicates of their father, they were both kind to me and I sensed no blame for the death of their younger brother.

The time until the funeral passed quickly, with Buck kissing me goodbye in the morning, promising to return by nightfall. My day was spent learning more of the wedding ceremony and Solstice rituals, as well as committing my vows to memory. There were some sacred words to be said for the "vows" but apparently Buck had asked they be spoken in English for my sake, and the sacred tree had given its blessing. When he returned, I was already in bed, but he slipped under the covers with me, nuzzling into my neck then weeping into my shoulder once more as he mourned his son's death.

The following night I was relocated to another room, where I was treated to a beauty regimen that was definitely magic. After it was done, my hair was shiny, my skin dewy, and there were no signs of any pimples or other blemishes of any kind. My gown, designed to match Bucky's suit was white with gold trim, and fit perfectly, as I tried it on one last time. We were kept apart that night since we had to leave very early from our eastern time zone on the morning of the solstice. We had to be at the sacred tree, which apparently was somewhere in Ireland, four hours ahead in their time zone. It was where the first fae king was crowned, and we had to be there before sunrise, 4:56 am, local time. It was going to literally be a long day for us, on the longest day of the year. At least we would take a portal there, with Loki, Hope, and Sam accompanying me. Steve, Thor and Buck left before us. The rest of the council were already there.

When we arrived at the grove where the sacred tree was located, I was amazed to see all sorts of flowers growing everywhere. Foxglove, daisies, cosmos, and primroses were just a few that I recognized. Their scent was everywhere, but not so much that it felt overwhelming. There was a misty quality to the place, as if a fog wasn't quite dissipated completely. Everything seemed so tranquil and beautiful. A single path led to the altar from where I waited, out of sight. I would walk it alone, just as Buck would wait alone for me, with Thor, as the oldest fae there, acting as the officiant. Our music was the natural sounds of the forest, the birds, the breeze, and the rustle of leaves. My bouquet was made of wildflowers. With a kind smile my three travelling companions left me to take their place. Then a voice in my head, Thor's voice, told me to begin to approach the altar. As I came around the corner from where I had been hidden, I almost gasped at the scene.

The sacred tree, large, gnarled and ancient, with pink tinged flowers appearing on the branches, dominated the space. In front of it, a carved altar made of wood displayed images of both real and mythical creatures of the forest, including one called The Green Man, apparently a masculine symbol of the forest. Buck waited in front of the altar, wearing an incredible suit that was mostly ivory white. Embroidered with an intricate pattern of gold thread it was styled similar to a fine suit from the 1700s. He wore a collarless white shirt underneath that seemed to be made of silk, which made sense as it was a natural fibre. Its sleeves poked out from the cuffs of the suit. On his head, Buck wore a crown of holly, apparently for its relationship to eternity, and the change of the seasons. When I reached where Buck stood, he offered me his hand and helped me up the single step to stand in front of Thor.

"Greetings, friends," he stated. "We are here to witness the sacred joining of our fae king, Buck, born James Barnes, to the mortal woman, Sage, born Sage Hawthorne. Before the vows are stated are there any objections to the union of these two individuals?"

There was no objection and Thor instructed Buck to state the vows. He did so without hesitation. Then it was my turn.

"I, Sage, in the name of the spirit of the Creator that resides within us all, by the life that courses within my blood and the love that resides within my heart, take thee, James, to my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. To desire thee and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by thee, without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I shall not seek to change thee in any way. I shall respect thee, thy beliefs, thy people, and thy ways as I respect myself."

Thor asked for the rings, raising his hands to the sky. When he lowered them, the rings were there, both of them plain bands made of silver. He offered the smaller one to Buck, who placed it on my ring finger. Then he offered the larger one to me, to place on my husband's ring finger. Clasping our hands together he spoke in a language I had never heard before. He looked calmly at both of us before speaking.

"May the canopy of the forest shelter you; may you be protected by the hawthorn, the oak and the ash tree, and their shade grant you peace. Your bloodlines are now joined, now and forever. Even if you choose to part there will always be a bond between you, until you find each other again at the end of time. You may seal your bond with a kiss."

Just as Buck's lips touched mine a strong beam of the sun lit us up, making the gold thread in our clothes gleam. I felt a warmth fill me from all around, which apparently was the first moment of transformation as the sacred tree of my ancestor transferred some of its fae power into me. After receiving the well wishes of those who attended we were transported to another site, the base of a mountain. At the top of it was where the first consummation of our marriage would take place, with Buck flying both of us up there. Just before we took off a host of flower petals drifted down upon us, landing in our hair. With a smile I was lifted into Buck's arms, and we flew to where a small group of tall trees at the top of the mountain became visible. Built into the rock face beneath them was a wooden structure, open to the elements, containing a large bed. We landed on a terrace in front of the bed. The sun, although high, wasn't at its highest yet. I stood looking out over the great vista below us.

"This is incredible," I said. "Why aren't we on the tallest mountains?"

"It's not necessary," he replied. "It just has to be open to the sky when the sun is at its highest. We are somewhere in the Balkans by the look of things, and we have time to eat and drink. If you wish."

My ears had been warm since the sun first touched us in Ireland and I ran my fingertips over them. A pointed shape surprised me, making Buck smile.

"Your ears have changed. I must say, they suit you."

Inside the covered part of the structure was a small mirror and I took a look, seeing the change for myself. Accepting a glass of wine from Buck, we toasted our marriage then started to kiss, letting the inevitable joining of our bodies progress from there. By the time the sun was high overhead we were well into the first requirement of the Solstice ritual. It was freeing to make love out in the open like that, with only the sky and the sun as our witness. I felt a lightness in my body, as if I could do almost anything. There was some opportunity after our several couplings to relax as we touched and caressed, then I heard an apologetic voice in my head interrupting us that it was time to go. Obviously, Buck had heard the same voice since he rose from the covers and offered me his hand. Reluctantly, we dressed. While I was putting my dress on Buck alerted me to the presence of small butterfly type wings protruding from my back.

"These will be your true wings although they haven't finished forming yet," stated Buck, gently touching them with his fingertips. "You'll soon learn how to transform them into bird wings strong enough to lift yourself."

Covering me with his own great wings, he held me close as he formed a portal around us. We appeared on a beach, where the air was warm and humid, surrounded by palm trees. Greeted by the council, with cheek kisses and hugs, they seemed pleased at the physical changes to my body, proof of the ritual working. Then Buck offered me his hand and we walked along a wooden dock to where a boat waited. Steve and Sam were at the controls, both of them looking relaxed in the golden light of the sun which was now low in the sky.

"We'll get you within a comfortable flying distance, then return to the beach," said Steve. "At sunrise, we will be waiting for you at the rendezvous point on the boat."

We ate and drank on the ride until they slowed then stopped. We departed from them as Buck took me in his arms for a flight over the ocean. The moon was just peaking over the horizon, providing just enough light to illuminate the calm waters below us. It seemed that Buck knew exactly where to go as a small rocky island became visible in the distance. On it was a platform, with steps leading up to it from the water. A bed and several lit candle lanterns were the only furnishings there.

"You just happen to have this tiny island in the middle of the ocean waiting for us," I commented, a little sarcastically. Buck just grinned.

"The rocky part is real, the last remaining part of a long dead volcano that rose from the ocean in the South Pacific. The bed and lighting are magical. It was part of Steve's job to find this spot, using his contacts with the merpeople to locate it. It had to be isolated, as we draw magic from the ocean with the consummation. A spell will protect us in case a storm comes but as you can see it is a very calm and clear night. The merpeople will patrol below the surface and advise the council if there are any potential intruders. It's important that we're not interrupted." He looked at me with obvious desire. "For more than one reason."

Gracefully, he landed and released me from his arms. I almost wanted to laugh at how otherworldly and weird it all seemed. This tiny island in the middle of the ocean was set up just for us to have sex. As I looked out over the waters, I could hear mournful sounds coming from it. Buck came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me as he rested his chin on mine.

"Is that whale song?" I asked.

"Uh huh." He listened for a moment. "They're giving us their blessing. Come to bed, my beloved."

In the light of the lanterns that were near the bed, he undid the fastenings of my dress, kissing my neck and shoulders as it fell from my body and draped itself over a chair that appeared, my magic asserting itself, according to Buck. His own individual pieces of clothing seemed to unfasten themselves, although I helped remove them. Like my dress they moved of their own accord, finding a place to be. The lights of the lanterns slowly grew dim so that our bodies were lit only by the full moon, low on the horizon, with just a sliver of sky separating it from that viewpoint. Whether it was an optical illusion or was just my imagination, it seemed to be the largest I had ever seen the moon appear. Despite being in the middle of the ocean I felt as warmed by the moon's glow as I ever did by the sun's rays. As we kissed it felt like something extraordinary surrounded us.

"It's beginning," said Buck, stepping back a little as he held my hands.

There was a silvery glow to my skin that seemed to flow from the reflection of the moon in the ocean straight towards me, enveloping me in something enchanted. All of my senses seemed to come alive as we explored each other's bodies like it was the very first time. Every kiss to my skin sent tendrils of pleasure radiating from the contact point. Every caress of my breasts increased my need for Buck to join with me in any way possible. Every roll of his hips as he thrust into me sent me into such a state of joy that I wanted to cry out to the heavens. I imagined this must be like the best psychedelic trip of all time, except I was fully in charge of my faculties, fully aware of where I was and who I was with. Our minds and bodies were joined in such a way that I realized this was the love I had longed for my whole life. This fae man, entwined with me, was my life, as I was his; our connection was physical, emotional, and spiritual all at the same time. After the attainment of our shared climax we laid in each other's arms, spent but not exhausted.

"Is this how it feels to be connected to life?" I asked, as I became aware of all the sea life around us, even the sea anemones and corals that clung to life on the sides of the rocky promontory that extended down to the bottom of the ocean where we were. I could hear and understand the song of the whales that were bolstered by the calls of the merpeople under the gentle swells. "Do you hear and feel this all of the time?"

"Yes," he replied. "It was overwhelming at first but when Daere chose to undergo the process it was so much better to share it with my mate. Just as it's better with you, Sage. You were always meant for this; to be at my side, to be part of the life of this earth."

Gently, Buck wiped tears from my cheek, as I wept with awareness of all that was good and all that threatened the natural world. It was such a responsibility that he had been solely burdened with since Daere died. How he managed to function without a mate to share this commitment with for so long was beyond my comprehension. All I knew for certain was that I was part of it now, freely choosing to do this with my king, my mate, and my love.

Slowly, the moon began its journey back below the horizon, and we were left in darkness until a glow appeared on the surface of the ocean. All sorts of blue, green and white lights appeared at the top of the waters then slowly drifted back down to where they originated. I sat on the bed, entranced by the spectacle, having never seen anything like it before.

"Bioluminescent creatures," said Buck. "They live deep where there is no light but create their own. They come to pay their respects." He stroked my back; his warmth feeling so good on my skin. "We can catch some sleep now until just before sunrise."

His suggestion for sleep was a good one as we had been going for over 24 hours, in several different time zones. Within moments I was gone, calmed into sleep by what I realized was a lullaby being sung by the merpeople. Its haunting beauty was both hypnotic and soothing, sending me into a wonderful dream filled with light and love.

"Sage." The voice was barely audible, like the gentle buzz of a bee in the garden. It was a voice I knew but I strained to hear it. "Sage, listen. There is a way that you can save him. If you give it all up and give him up for how ever long it takes for him to heal, he can live. My beautiful girl. I miss you so much."

I opened my eyes, turning to look at Buck in the pre-dawn light, his eyes closed and his face at peace after all the turmoil of the past few days. That vision I had of him, pale while the light of life left his eyes, was there again at the edge of my consciousness but so were the words that woke me. What did it all mean?

It didn't take long to find the boat waiting for us after we lifted off from the island. Sam and Steve were on it again and offered us food and drink to restore our energies after the long day and night we experienced. It seemed like simple fare, cheeses, fruit, honey and bread but it tasted wonderful, almost as if I could sense all the love and care that went into its preparation. Soon, the boat was pulling up to the dock and we were greeted with warm words and wishes. We had one more stop to make, a return to the sacred tree in Ireland to present ourselves as bonded mates. That encircling of the globe would complete the ritual. As the rest of the council activated their own portals to return there, Sam and Steve secured the boat as Thor waited. Then we returned to Ireland together, landing in a beam of lightning.

It was strange. Although the council had left before us, they were nowhere to be seen in the glade where the sacred tree was. The three fae princes produced their swords as did Buck. Being new to all of this, I wasn't sure what to do but they placed themselves around me and we began to advance towards the tree. We found Hope first, as Buck cried out and kneeled beside her, sprawled amongst some tall sunflowers, although no injury was visually evident.

"She's alive," he said, laying his hands on his daughter. "Hope, wake up."

A moan answered him and then her eyes fluttered open. "Trap," she whispered, then she lapsed back into unconsciousness.

"You should go," said Thor. "There is a feeling of darkness here." He seemed to be searching for his brother telepathically but there was no answer. "Buck, take your bride."

"No, we must finish the ritual to complete the process," he insisted. "She won't be safe otherwise."

Taking my hand in his free hand we approached the sacred tree. With Thor, Steve and Sam covering our backs we kneeled in front of it and Buck recited something in what I assumed was Latin. Just before he finished it, a shadow in the shape of a man materialized out of the air, thrusting a black sword into Buck's chest. It happened so fast that he had no chance to react, other than to push me back, away from danger. The shadow man lifted him up overhead, still impaled on the sword and threw him away from the tree. Instinctively, I thought of my hands as weapons, generating a blue energy from them that caught the shadow man in the chest. He began to thrash, then the shadows fell away to reveal the lawyer of HYDRA Mining, Alexander Pierce.

"NO!"

His face was locked in a grimace as he reached for me, but I sent another pulse towards him, then found my efforts supported as Thor raised his hammer then struck Pierce in the head, separating it from his neck. A cloud of dark energy erupted from the headless body then twisted painfully as my pulse of blue, and Thor's lightning burned through it, until it was gone. I was suddenly exhausted then remembered Buck and scrambled to where he was. Sam and Steve were trying to stem his blood loss but as I hovered over him, I realized this was my vision that had been prickling at the edge of my consciousness. His skin was already pale and the blue light in his eyes was fading. I placed my hands on his cheeks and for a moment they pulsed blue then faded as I had used all of my power destroying Pierce.

"No," I cried. "Don't die. Don't leave me."

"Beloved," gasped Buck. "Amica mea. It's okay. If he's dead, then you are safe. My beloved Sage."

My tears fell on his face as I begged him to stay with me. I looked at the others who stood around, helpless in their grief. Then I remembered the words that were whispered to me.

"I don't want this power, not if I don't have you. Take it, take it all." I raised my eyes to the sky. "Please, save him. I'll give him up, give up all of my magic if you just let him live."

"Sage, if you do this, he can no longer be king." Thor was kneeling beside me. "He can only live as a mortal now as all of his own magic will be needed to heal his wound. Even then there is no guarantee as he was pierced with a dark fae blade."

"I don't care," I cried. "Please, don't let him die. Don't let all that he was be lost."

"No, beloved." Buck's voice was barely a whisper. "Don't do this. You were meant to be queen."

"Not without you." I was certain of this. "Please."

My tears were unstoppable as I laid my head on his shoulder. I could hear the voices of the others then everything went black. When my eyes opened, I was in a dark room. Sitting up, I saw that it was the same room I first stayed in when Buck brought me to the stronghold. It was dark and the almost full moon shone through the window, although it was low in the sky. Before I could leave, someone knocked on the door, then entered and stepped into the moonlight.

"Hope," I said. "Your father ...."

"He will live," she answered. She sat on the edge of the bed. "Your magic is depleted and can never be restored. Neither will you ever have a child with magic."

"I want to see him."

"It's not possible," she answered. "The sacred tree used both your magic and his to treat the injury but there was a price to be paid. He is mortal now, and he has lost his memory. I had enough time to give him something to ground him when he wakes up, but he won't remember who he is or what he was. He is out of our hands now. The sacred tree instructed that he be taken to a mortal place and left there to begin his new life. I don't know where he is. He is unseen to me."

"But what about us?" I asked.

"You offered to give him up and the sacred tree is fae. Your offer was accepted as a fair trade for saving him. If your love is true, you may find each other again, but there are no guarantees. I'm sorry."

Her words hit me like a wave of ice water. He would live but he was lost to me, possibly forever. As I began to cry, Hope held me, stroking my hair and back, then sat with me for the rest of the night as we talked of many things. When the first signs of dawn became visible, she left me to get dressed then escorted me to a terrace where the council waited. All of them who had gone to the sacred tree ahead of us looked ill, as if they were recovering from a terrible illness. Pierce had apparently poisoned them as they appeared there, wanting to isolate Buck and me to attack us without warning. No one suspected that he was the Dark Overlord, since his camouflage as a mortal lawyer had been so successfully portrayed. He apparently didn't believe my strength would be of consequence in standing up to his, expecting to overwhelm me completely and take my powers for his. My counterattack weakened him enough for Thor to slay him. At least his influence would be gone, until the next dark fae became powerful enough to become the Dark Overlord.

After saying goodbye to the council, Steve offered to return me to my apartment, encircling me with his wings and activating a portal. We appeared on the street in front of my building, just before the dawn and he looked around to make sure our arrival wasn't witnessed.

"Will I see you back in the courtroom?" I asked.

"No, Sam and I will be leaving Washington and returning to the stronghold," he replied, kindly. "The sacred tree is set to choose the next candidates for fae ruler and it's always a possibility we may be chosen. Gaia Life will still exist, but I suspect it will return to a grassroots level, educating people to respect the environment. We are recommending that we undertake a greater effort to find and support the descendants of Lilith and the Hawthorn, encouraging them to accept and develop their powers. Your powers were truly what made the difference in defeating the Dark Overlord." Suddenly, he brushed a tear away from my cheek. "He loved you very much. Believe that it will bring you back together, someday."

With a grim smile, I nodded, then stepped back and watched as his wings extended and he lifted up into the air, watching him until I couldn't see him anymore. On the elevator up to my floor, I thought of all that happened to me over the last few months. My whole life had been uprooted, starting with the death of my father, and ending with the loss of my husband. As I checked my work emails, I realized I had changed too much to return to that job. I didn't know what I was going to do but it wasn't going to be in the cynical atmosphere of the nation's capital.

One Year Later

The sunburnt face and grizzled chin of the farmer I was representing in front of the county board, seemed satisfied when the board agreed that the fracking company, which had set up next to the property line of his farm, had damaged the aquifer enough to affect the quality of his well water. They were ordered to cease and desist all operations, to pay him damages for what they had done, and to pay for the installation of a water tank, as well as the supply of fresh water until such time as his well recovered, based on an independent assessment. It was as good a victory as any I had achieved when I was a high paid lawyer in Washington. For this representation, the best I could expect to be paid was about $5000 but I was also given a permanent invitation to dinner with the farmer and his family, plus a side of beef whenever I needed it. As he, his wife, and kids thanked me while I placed my files in my briefcase I happened to look up and see a familiar face. The woman who wore it sat in one of the stacking chairs that were available for the public to witness the proceedings.

Maria smiled at me as I approached. "I wasn't expecting to see you, not here out in the country."

"Officially, I'm not here," she said. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

I nodded, then we headed out of the county building to where my truck was, and I deposited my case in the front seat. There was a coffee shop across the way, and we walked across the quiet small-town street, waiting on a truck to pass in front of us before completing the journey. A wave to the waitress from me brought two cups and a pot of coffee.

"Lunch?" asked the waitress, Norma.

I looked at Maria and she shook her head. "No, not today, thanks."

"Should you even be here?" I asked. "I mean, Gaia Life pulled out of Washington pretty quickly, after ...." I left the final part unsaid as it was still painful for me.

"Officially, no, but Hope asked me to come," she replied, then she took a brochure out of her purse. It was for a county-run campground in the next state over, extolling the virtues of a pristine environment, without electricity, wifi, or any of the interruptions of modern society. "She thinks it might be a good idea for you to go camping next weekend. A reservation has already been made and paid for."

I looked at Maria with surprise, but she didn't enlighten me, taking that moment to sip her coffee. So, I asked.

"Why?"

"Just go," she said. "Our new rulers want you to be happy and feel that you may find the visit memorable."

"Rulers? A king and a queen?"

She shrugged, making me understand that I wasn't really permitted to know anymore. Then she smiled kindly again.

"We have looked out for you, you know. You seem happier here than you were in Washington."

"It's quieter and the work is the same, but the rewards are more obvious and satisfying, I guess. I'm still considering my options. How is everyone?"

"Still adjusting but we're alright." She looked at my neck and my left hand. "You still wear them."

"I'm still his wife and I still feel him. I'll never forget him."

"I'm glad." She looked at her watch. "Well, my ride should be here soon. It was good to see you, Sage. Thank you for the coffee."

"You're welcome," I said, internally wondering about the real purpose for the brief visit.

We walked out to the street and a vehicle pulled up in front, with a bald, dark-skinned man driving. He nodded at me, then Maria hugged me, and got inside, receiving a kiss from the man. With a wave, they were gone, as they turned the first corner. With the brochure in my hand, I got in my truck and headed home to the small house I lived in on the edge of town. Opening my laptop, I looked at the website for the campground, seeing only pictures of a small lake, with rustic campsites. Inside the brochure was a folded piece of paper with my reservation and the date, the next full moon. Since I was usually alone anyways, it seemed a good idea.

That weekend I loaded up my pride and joy, a small camper vehicle, big enough for two, or in this case me and my girlfriend's dog, Arlo, who I often brought along to keep me company when I went camping. We headed out in the rain, just after breakfast for the 6-hour drive to the campground. When I did arrive there, the rain was gone, the sun was out and the small campground, with no services, was empty. I found the one reserved for me, that looked out over the small lake but still had the shelter of the trees for shade. It was perfect. After setting up the portable solar panels for power I set up my small picnic table with a camp stove and pulled out my chair, a book, and began to enjoy the solitude, while Arlo rested in the sun before moving to the shade of the camper. The scent of the trees hung heavy in the air, lulling both me and Arlo to sleep. When we awoke the sun was low and I brought out the lantern. Open campfires were prohibited so the light of the lantern would have to suffice. As I came out of the van I saw a figure, standing with his back to me, a short distance away, looking out over the small lake.

He seemed familiar to me, in his heavy flannel shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. When he turned his head to the side, my heart jumped, for his profile was just as beautiful as I remembered. At that moment he became aware I was watching and turned around to face me. Arlo looked at him with ears perked up but didn't seem alarmed at the sudden presence of the man.

"You picked a nice spot," he said. "You respect the space, by keeping your vehicle on the gravel and not starting a campfire. Others who have had this spot to themselves have often ignored the no open campfire sign."

"It is fire season," I replied, keeping my voice steady, as it was obvious he didn't recognize me. "I don't need it. Once the moon comes up and reflects off the water it will be so beautiful and peaceful out here. It's what I wanted more than anything."

He nodded then approached where I sat. He kneeled down and gestured to Arlo, who approached him readily, wagging his tail. Scratching Arlo behind the ears, then his neck made the dog fall onto his side offering his belly. The man chuckled.

"How long have you had him?" he asked.

"He belongs to a friend," I answered. "He's my camping buddy. Living in town can be stressful for a dog so this is his vacation time as well."

Nodding his head sympathetically he looked up at me. "I'm James," he said.

"Sage," I replied. "Are you a camper here?"

"No, I live nearby but I check up on the place for the county and remind people not to have open campfires." He smiled at Arlo, who was pawing him for more belly rubs. "Have we ever met?"

"I was thinking the same thing," I answered. "Except I've never been here before."

"Maybe it's from before I was injured. I almost died and lost most of my memories. Sometimes, I get a flash of them, but it doesn't last." He stood up. "I should get going."

I didn't want him to go. "James, would you like to join me for some hot chocolate? I have another chair in the camper. I wouldn't mind the company."

His smile was soft, as he looked out over the water for a moment then back at me. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

I brought the chair out for him then filled the kettle with water and set it on the burner inside the camper, opening a couple of packets of hot chocolate into a couple of mugs. Inside my camper I also had a bag of mini marshmallows, and I brought them, along with some cookies, placing them on the small picnic table. Before the water boiled, I shut the stove down and poured some water in the mugs, stirring the powder to remove the lumps. Then I poured the rest of the water in, stirring to mix it together smoothly. James watched me as I stepped out of the camper, then took the mug from my hand.

"Thank you," he said, then sipped it and sat back in the chair. He leaned towards the table and took some mini marshmallows, adding them to his drink. "That's better."

He took a couple of cookies and dunked one in the hot chocolate. Quietly, we sipped our drink, watching as the full moon came up over the water. It looked exactly like it did the night of the Solstice ritual on the tiny island in the middle of the ocean. I suddenly sobbed and he looked at me, concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"Just remembering my wedding night," I replied, quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks. "It was on a full moon like this. I lost my husband the next morning. He was murdered in front of me."

"I'm sorry. That must have been devastating." He looked over at the moon. "It seems familiar to me as well but it's a memory that just ...."

He shook his head, frustrated.

"I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again." My voice was a whisper.

"What did you say?" he asked, putting the mug down. I repeated it. "I know those words. What was your husband's name?"

"Buck was what everyone called him, but he was born James Barnes," I said, looking directly at him.

"Sage ... is your last name Hawthorne?"

"It was, but I kept my husband's name. It's me, Buck. Don't you remember me?"

"How was your husband killed?"

"A sword through the heart. He actually survived, but he lost all of his memories of me, and I wasn't permitted to stay with him, because he didn't know me, at all."

"Was your wedding night on an island in the ocean?" I nodded. He touched his chest and pulled up his shirt, showing a great scar in the middle of his chest. "They said I was impaled by a weapon, that I almost bled out and I was lucky to survive. It wasn't luck, was it?"

"No, it was magic, but it came at a cost. You lost all of your magic and I gave up all of mine to save you, plus I had to leave you. They said if our love was true, we would find each other again. Now, here you are, in front of me. Have you found me, Buck? Please say you've found me again."

"Amica mea," he murmured, then he looked at me again, his eyes dark, as his memories returned. "Beloved?"

"Yes!"

The tears were streaming down my face, and I wanted to go to him, but my feet wouldn't move. He stood up and came to me, turning me so that my face was fully lit by the lantern. Gently, he touched my cheek with the back of his fingers.

"You cried over me," he said. "Hot tears were falling onto my cheeks, as I called you my beloved, over and over again. You said you would give it all up to save me, that you never wanted it, not if I wasn't with you. There were others there, but I couldn't hear them. I only remember your face and your pendant, then it went black. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. The police said I was found in a park with a stabbing chest wound that just missed my heart by a fraction of an inch. They never found who did it or who phoned for an ambulance. I only knew my name because of my identification. It said I lived near here, alone, running my own furniture making business. I knew how to make the furniture, but I didn't remember actually doing it. Who was I?"

I smiled. "You were special, and I will tell you everything but right now I just want to do one thing, if you'll let me."

He smiled back then he placed one hand in my hair and one around my waist. Gently, he kissed me, and I felt the familiar feeling of all of his kisses. Our kiss deepened and he pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me. I could detect a touch of his scent, the rich scent of the forest after a rainfall. Another scent, that of cut wood was more prominent, probably from the work he did making furniture. It was the feel of his arms around me that confirmed I had him back. Suddenly, I was aware of the sound of wings lifting a body into flight, not just one set but several and I looked around to see them, the fae, who had found my love and brought us back together again, but they were already gone.

Then I saw it on his ring finger, the silver wedding band. He noticed where I was looking and took my left hand in his, rubbing my wedding band with his thumb.

"I didn't know if I was married or widowed, but I kept it on, hoping it would help me remember," he said. Then he gazed at me again. "How did you find me?"

"The fae elements," I replied. "Earth, Air, Water, and Fire, and the fifth one, Love. I think they looked for you and made it possible for us to find each other again."

"My beloved Sage. It's coming back to me. You really did give it all up for me?"

I nodded. "We're both mortals now, joined until we move on to the next life."

"Then I'm happy," he said. "You're all that I want."

We kissed again, in the light of the full moon that covered the water of that small lake in its reflected glow. Then we made love in the small bed of the camper, wrapping our arms and legs around each other as we rekindled the passion of our earlier life. Finally, we slept in each other's arms, while Arlo curled up on the floor. It was quiet and intimate, and over too soon until I moved in with Buck, at the cabin he lived in outside a small town in rural Pennsylvania. That weekend set the stage for years to come as we took our increasingly growing family camping in larger vehicles but always beside a remote lake during the full moon to experience its magic. Occasionally, we received visits from certain individuals who never aged but always seemed happy for us and gleefully played with our children and grandchildren. They grew up believing in the magic of mythical creatures and sacred places and knowing of the necessity for love and friendship in a world that always seemed at odds.

As for us, personally ... as we grew older, seeming to race towards the inevitable end of our time together, we knew it had all been worth it. Buck found peace and contentment with me, his last mate, and I found happiness with the love of my life. When our time came, we faced it together, and jumped into the unknown, secure in our belief that our love would always bind us together, forever. Although it was thought by the fae council that I represented the element of truth, Buck and I believed that I was also love, truly the most intangible element, as it kept the bond between us alive while we were apart.

Part 7>>

Series Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

[retrowave-racer]

May Hemming was always a bit of a trouble maker growing up. She was rebellious, and ran away from home at a young age, saying she wanted to be a pirate. Brooke saw a lot of guts in May, and took her under her wing. Eventually May rose the ranks of Brooke’s crew, eventually standing by her side as her number too. Strong willed, sassy, a literal loose canon, she acquired the title The Marauder of Mayhem, and tended to be feared even more than the cool and calm Brooke. All was well, until Brooke vanished one day. Lost without her captain, May urged the remaining crew to try and find her. Things became even more stressful for her when she noticed a black spot on her hand. Little did she know it was the answer to her predicament…

A new character! I’ve been working on this lass for a bit, but only recently started to settle on a design. May Hemming, I’ll give you one guess on what ride she’s based off of! 😉🏴‍☠️ So excited to share my other pirates!!!

[mastercrowned]

Really don't know much about your Morpho gijinka, but Morpho wearing the kimono the way a dead would is on purpose?

Good eye, yeah that was deliberate. Here's a copy of their description:

Design Information: Morpho has two locs of "hair" that resemble a butterfly's antennae when fully down. They are tied together at the back, held in place with a hair ornament. The wings are slightly see-through. They can be wrapped around the body like a skirt, or simply fall behind like a cape. In skirt form, the gradient of the wings is optional (because I forget to add it lol) Her clothing style is very traditional Japanese. Her main outfit is based on samurai armour. Due to Morpho's association with death, the kimono is wrapped right over left.  She's a similar height to Galacta Knight, who is taller than meta knight, who is taller than kirby. They're almost always in butterfly form when they're not fighting. Description: A mysterious butterfly known as Morpho Knight. It resides in the land of Hades, alongside a sparse few others. It assimilates powerful souls to get stronger. This is known as "Judgement." Certain lifeforms who have a strong urge to live can overcome the assimilation process. Typically, though, they remain fused with Morpho. It takes the form of a humanoid when fighting. It based this form on the humanoid lifeforms she's witnessed throughout the galaxy. Embodying death, morpho is a neutral force, with no patricular moral alignment. Still, it will sympathise with the souls that cry for help.

She has her eyes on Kirby, the soul with infinite potential. Extras: Morpho is one of my favourite Kirby characters. Everything from their design to their themeing to their boss theme is fantastic. Although, if I could change one thing about them, I'd give them a scythe. Morpho is also one of my older Kirby Gijinkas. I've barely reworked it since then because I like what I came up with. Canon Morpho Knight doesn't have much of a personality to go on, so I like to have fun with it. Like a lot of the end-game bosses, in any other context outside of the end-game they'd seem a bit goofy and out-of-place. So if you need an idea for what to draw, you can depict them singing "Wham Bam Shang-A-Lang" for karaoke night. Morpho doesn't have a gender, but I use It/They/She for them. I reject he/him Morpho knight lol

[rising-volteccers]

Can you write a small funny drabble where Friede gives the absurd order to Orla to turn the fishing boat into a flying airship?!!??

Well, I wrote what felt right to me (and pretty self indulgent) so I don't know if it's funny but I do hope it'll still be a nice read!

Series: Pokemon Horizons

Characters: Friede, Orla

--

When Orla made the decision to join the Rising Volt Tacklers, she knows that her days are far from peaceful. Friede always has something that he wants them to investigate, a mystery to solve in some corner of the world. It's not always easy seeing that their ship has seen better days, at times having to rely on the strong winds for their sails but they make it work. 

She thinks there's not much that Friede can do or say to surprise her these days but it seems that their intrepid leader still has stuff hidden up his sleeve.

Orla resists the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. A quick glance at the wall clock reveals a far too early time to deal with Friede's nonsense. She hasn't even had her first mug of coffee, though it's doubtful whether clarity is something she wants right now. 

"Let me get this straight," Orla begins, leveling an unimpressive gaze at Friede's grinning face. "You're asking me whether I can turn this ship into an airship. As in, you want this to sail through the air instead?"

"Yup!" Friede replies, still sporting that infuriating grin as if he was asking for something simple. The audacity of this guy to come and make this nonsensical request just as she got up for the day. "You think you can do it?"

"Before I even consider answering that, why do you want an airship? Is the boat not good enough for you?" Orla has her arms crossed now, brows furrowed. "Something that's lacking after all this time?"

Surprisingly, Friede doesn't immediately answer. His grin softens around the edges, head tilted in a way that hints of a consideration to the words he's about to say. Orla finds herself loosening her stance in return.

"Nothing like that. It's super awesome that we're able to travel by ship thanks to Ludlow. Way better than going on foot! I was just thinking that…" Here, his eyes shift to the window where there's a view of clear blue skies with white clouds dotting it. Orla too follows his gaze. "...since we're going to solve all the mysteries of the world, I want us to be able to travel wherever we want."

Friede casually crosses his arms, fingers drumming an idle beat on his forearm. "You know how I fly on Charizard when I'm scouting ahead, yeah? It's thrilling to be that high up, to see the sights you just can't get on the ship. It's awesome if you give it a go with your Metagross."

"Not all of us are adrenaline junkies like you," she replies, tone considerably softer than before. Arceus above she's actually getting convinced on fulfilling this ridiculous request of his. It's hard not to when Friede shows this side of him–where he's open with his feelings and showcases his care without explicitly saying it. 

I want to travel even more together, to share the sights and experiences with my friends, Orla reads between the lines. 

"Yeah but surely you can see the charm and fantasy of traveling the world through the sky?" His grin returns. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"It's buried underneath all the logistical nightmare in my immediate future because of you."

"So… you'll do it?" There's a hopeful note to his voice.

Orla heaves out a deep sigh but her smile, while resigned, is genuine. "I have a feeling I'll regret it after my first mug of coffee but I also won't deny interest in the challenge of repurposing a boat and giving it wings. Gotta put that engineering degree to good use."

"You're the best Orla, you know that?" Friede positively beams that she feels like sunglasses were in order to shield her eyes. "If you've got time later, I wanna discuss the general layout and plans I have for it."

"What, you already have a design in mind?"

"Well yeah, I wasn't going to come without a plan. This is going to really be our base of operations, our home to come back to instead of staying at whatever port or city we docked at. Of course I want to make sure it's something that'll be worth building."

Home. Orla privately admits that she feels a little warm and fuzzy hearing how Friede sees them. Then again, it's probably the lack of caffeine that she's supposed to have like twenty minutes ago.

"Come on, you can throw out your thoughts while I make coffee." Orla gestures for Friede to follow her. He does so with his arms crossed behind his head, lips affixed in a huge smile.

"Think you can fix me a mug too?"

"Don't push your luck. I know we're going to need more seeing that I'm probably going to lose sleep over this…"

Even as she said that, Orla knows that deep down, she's rather excited to tackle this big, long term project where the Rising Volt Tacklers will have a home that'll soar the skies.

[ask-the-elden-lords]

Evelyn's Character Sheet

Name: Evelyn Elise Wylde

Alias: Evie, Evy, Eve

Title(s): N/A

Race: Unknown

Sex: Female

Age: 18 years old

Height: 6 feet (72 inches)

Weight: 159 pounds (72 kilograms)

Notable physical features: Silver hair that reaches down to her back when not braided or done up in some way Pointed, elf-like ears Radiation green eyes with slitted pupils Button nose Freckles Soft lips A scar that runs through her left eye, the origin of which is unknown Three gunshot scars in her stomach, the origins of which are traumatic and a sore subject A vivisection scar spanning the entirety of her chest, the origin of which gave her PTSD and is a subject so sensitive that she will only tell the story to those she trusts, and even then she must be coaxed into it A series of various torture scars that pepper her body. These scars are new and she will refuse to talk about them under any circumstances 6-pack abs and a well muscled build Quote: "a bit thicc" Razor-sharp teeth and fang-like canines A pair of black and red draconic wings, with green accents A black and red prehensile draconic tail with green accents and a bladed tip A line of sharp bone spikes growing out of her back that run along her spinal column from the nape of her neck to the end of her tail Sharp nails that are actually retractable claws A set of horns that very recently started to grow out of her head Well tanned skin Calloused knuckles and strong hands with a grip like iron Australian accent Smells like the forest

Profession: N/A

Faction(s): Humanity, the ASF, Drone Colonies of Copper 9

Alignment: Neutral Good

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Relations: @worker-drone-alex, @doll-the-zombie-drone - lovers (polyamorous relationship) @n-sanity - lover (former), close friend @ask-wylde-and-co Emma, Oswald, @v-the-worker-drone, @solvar-the-drone, @emily-the-lost, @nate-doorman-elliot, @thad-the-jock - siblings @xen-or-xavier-wylde, @v-the-murder-drone @theblackcubeofdarkness, @scottish-drone-r-deactivated202, @love-lust-clown - parents @doctor-wylde - Grandfather with father/daughter dynamic and relationship, so they refer to each other as such @ask-wylde-and-co Natah - (Great)Grandmother @khan-loves-doors, @asknoridoorman, @director-raphael-turner - Grandparents(?) @ask-wylde-and-co Elizabeth, Asmodeus, @eva-the-inventor-deactivated202, @james-comes-back, @serial-designation-x - Aunts/Uncles @hazo-the-drone - cousin @ask-wylde-and-co Slyvan, Cyn, Alice, @user-darkxwolf17, @popular-violet, @buksu-a-deer-drone, @first-workers-lizzy - close friends @tdm-xi - worstie

Personality: Massive tomboy Aggressive, loves the thrill of battle Always ready for a fight Switch Gets really shy and easily flustered when around someone she's crushing on, but becomes more confident if/when the relationship solidifies and they start dating Often hides her face in her scarf when she's feeling shy Extremely touch starved and will melt if given even the slightest amount of physical affection from someone she likes Has trust issues and is slow to warm up to people Was recently rescued after having been kidnapped and whatever she experienced has given her extreme anxiety and haphephobia - the irrational fear of being touched She allows some people to touch her, but only if she knows and trusts them Secretly a goofball cinnamon roll who loves to snuggle, but only reveals this side of her when around her friends and loved ones Also secretly loves fashion Adores praise, with her favorite being called a "good girl" Autistic - high functioning Has a hard time telling whether or not someone's being sarcastic Fears the Absolute Solver and will urge those infected by it to be "cleansed" as soon as possible every chance she gets Hates loud noises Insecure Doesn't like it when people laugh at her because it makes her feel made fun of, which she despises and doing so will instantly put her in a bad mood Has abandonment issues and mild separation anxiety Extremely hard on herself Terrified of driving her loved ones away Deathly terrified of being isolated for long periods of time, to the point she'd rather break her own bones Has a few cat-like tendencies

Important lore tidbits: Immortal thanks to her great great grandfather, who's name has been stricken from history Over the centuries will slowly lose her humanity and transform into an eldritch monster, also thanks to her great great grandfather Possesses supernatural/magic powers, also also thanks to her great great grandfather Specializes in Pyromancy, aka fire magic Can return from death after a time, but will come back with temporary amnesia that slowly fades over the course of the next 30 irl days The self-resurrection process can be slowed, but not stopped Has a Phoenix familiar named Sol Wields a variant of the Absolute Solver that she's bonded to her very soul and made an extension of her will and being Possesses a large and varied collection of weapons she can pull from at will and regardless of location Also has a variety of toxin-based abilities, though she's yet to reveal them Drives a motorcycle

Drip:

Evelyn's theme song:

The vivisection scar's origin:

[sordid-dog]

Yo I'm like ninety-nine percent sure I got my biggest trigger in my dashboard and after blocking an artist I really liked out of panicking because I don't think the filters worked I'm feeling AWFUL

Can you share with me some of your funky little headcanons? Fiction is how I cope and your headcanons bring me great joy

bro I'm so sorry:(( I can try but I'm not in the best mood myself but I'll try my best

ofc I'm gonna start with hunter because I'm normal about them. I think they would have a lot of conflicting feelings towards nsh and feel betrayed by him, and I think maybe nsh had the ability to heal Hunter but didn't. I forgot who I stole this from but their rot gets worse from stress (this was from an off the string au I think). they try their best to look intimidating and strong but they're really just scared. they have a tendency to want to impress people and don't really care if they get hurt badly, their self preservation instincts are not the best. the rot gives them urges and intrusive thoughts and desires, and it makes them feel like they're a monster (this leads into the s/h I wont really talk abt.) I think they would lose purpose in their life after delivering the neuron and then kind of just wait for the rot to kill them, but instead found Monk who helps keep them calm and helps with their rot (applejuice moment.^^)

and uhh enot!! I think their memory is very bad. they have no memory of how they got into the cycle they were in, kind of just waking up in a shelter with the egg. I think their cycle might just be a very fucked up version of the cycles the other characters are in (like, Shit Went Down and now everything is hell.) OR be some kind of thing within the games code (like a glitch or just some subsection idk.) I might actually just combine those ideas. but because of their fucked up cycle that makes the code very, very glitchy, and can cause an anomaly that leads them to meet Nightcat and escape their hell maybe!! idk. they think of the egg (Egg Zero!!) like family, because it "follows them around" (respawns every cycle) and keeps them safe. They are not in a great mental state (kind of just because.. yeha.) and their little horns, wings and tail are just from my AU about them but I got attached to the idea and now it's just my design for them. it's because their world is basically hell, so they're a little devil. :3

thank you!! this did make me feel better actually. I hope you feel better soon bro, sorry you had to deal with that!!

[purple-eyesgreydragon]

The other day I thought. I usually like designing my own little characters for my favorite games, movies, and show. Than I realized, I don't have one for Mario! Maybe It's cause over the many years growing up playing the games, and choosing who to play as sometimes. It kinda nullified that urge. But with the movie coming out, I finally felt compelled to do so.

(Edit) I've redesigned her head to try and be better suited to the Mario style.

This is Ze, and she's a Draggle. A small fire breathless dragon species, cousin to the Draglets. And in their world, she is Mario and Luigi's numder 1 fan. Draggles have pre-imprinting trait when they hatch from their eggs. Something on them indicates someone they'll be drawn and look up too. Ze came out with a red M and a green L on her claws.

For the games if she was ever eventually introduced her origin is. Ze hatched and was raised by Notelings in the Music Kingdom. As she grew up she learned about Mario and Luigi, their adventures, and their initials on her paws. Ze knows every single one of their adventures, and loves pretending to go on them. Her best day ever would be meeting them, and a dream come true would be going on one of their adventures as a companion. Since she adores the Mario Bros. Any decision regarding helping them, she will choose. Unless it's between them than she's conflicted. In that event Ze will likely choose to help Luigi, wanting to give him a little more attention.

If she was in the movie I imagined. Ze spends her time searching for who the symbols on her belongs too, never finding them in the Mushroom Kingdom. So Ze travels through the warp pipe to find them. On the other side Ze sees she's underground in tunnels filled with pipes. Traveling through the sewers, she picks up a scent she’s drawn too. She peeks through a manhole to see the Bros headed to their first job. Ze covertly follows and watches them. Upon their return home she sees Mario being made fun of. So Ze gets an idea, she goes and messes with the plumbing underground hoping to give them a big plumbing emergency so they can prove themselves. The Mario Bros. come down to fix what she messed up. She however did not foresee the pipe busting and revealing the secret passageway to them. However she let them continue and went ahead of them through the warp pipe, hoping to finally get to meet them on the other side. She was sad to see the rough travel warping there resulting in them both getting separated. But Ze is eager to help reunite them. Although she's reluctant to tell Mario what happened, for fear of him being mad at her.

While Draggles can't breathe fire, they can with a fire flower. Ze can't punch blocks, her arms aren't strong enough. So she headbutts them instead. Since Draggles are small, consuming a mushroom makes them about Mario and or Luigi's average size. Another trait Draggles have is sometimes their appearance minorly changes on who they're with. For Ze if she's on her own or with both Bros her hair is the usual yellow, with she's just with Mario her hair turns red, if just Luigi than green. Despite her and her wings small size, she's still able to carry them if they need a lift. Ze is also incredibly able to track either of the Bros. down. She also has her own Poltergust Z-Assist.

[violetmuses]

Reflections || Chapter 1

TITLE: “Reflections” (Modern AU) 

FANDOM: “Altered Carbon” (Netflix Adaptation)

CHARACTER: Takeshi Kovacs (Joel Kinnaman, Season 1 Portrayal)

PAIRING: Female Reader + Takeshi Kavocs

WARNINGS: Adult themes, strong language, etc.

STORYLINE: Kovacs earns his reputation as one of the wealthiest businessmen. When begrudgingly needing to hire a personal assistant, his life might change forever after meeting you. 

Author’s Note: Another project! Feedback would be greatly appreciated and thanks so much for reading as always. 💜

J Krew: @nerdysuperchick @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @lacontroller1991 @shadowkittybucky @loverhymeswith @justin-hammers @weallhaveadestiny @xoxabs88xox @katjnordstrom96   @mayhem24-7forever @lilisangel @skvatnavle @sociiallydiisoriiented @heresathreebee @alieninoklahoma @bewitchedignition @maddu-oliveira @reveluving @sugapapichulo @hodgepodge-of-rog @ijustthinkrickflagisprettyneat @ed-baldwin

Reflections - Masterlist

__________

This long-awaited process began not long ago, when the job opening first pinged online. You had just graduated from college, but still made a point to clean up your resume, completing required paperwork and sending over documents as needed. 

Onboarding moved out of the way and Ortega screened candidates via video chats, insisting on this rush to prepare you for visiting the office in person. Time and time again, Kristen noted that anyone selected for the position needed this warning or else.

Now, days later, you stand in front of this well-known skyscraper that towers near the middle of downtown, looking upwards through sunlight that beams directly overhead: 

Kovacs Corporation. Bold silver lettering etched onto the leftward side of this building and you allow yourself to smile, knowing that you could truly be part of an organization like this. 

Your heels click forward as you enter that building and pull open one of those glass double doors. Ortega must be out for the day, as you see someone else work and answer calls while right behind the reception desk. 

Her plated name tag reads Mariam Bancroft. To you, this woman probably wants to be hustling elsewhere. She might as well leave this building for good and own another company, especially considering how mad she seems while facing you now. 

 “If you’re on the clock to work for Kovacs, go to our top level and your office is two doors down. He’ll return in probably the next twenty minutes.” Bancrofts deadpans the instruction and you pull back quite an urge to cringe. 

No meetup? No one-on-one chats? Only immediate work? Shit! Your thoughts scramble, but there’s no other choice but to nod and run off towards the elevator in these damn heels. 

“Thank you!” You call out to Mariam, but she doesn’t answer in the slightest before that elevator closes right away. 

________

This top leveled wing is gorgeous. Floor to ceiling windows prompt your eyes to widen time and time again. Bright lighting illuminated overhead in every space. 

Even your own designated office looks to be far above that confirmed pay grade.

Out of one rear window, a sculpted bridge gaped its structure between land and this near shoreline. Ocean waves crashed in the distance. Yet, you still organized your desk and checked emails, keeping a front door open in case Kovacs arrived earlier. 

Soft but accented knocks pull you out of work mode. You look up and nearly gape for a moment. 

This well-dressed but suited man leaning against the threshold. His blondish hair is styled perfectly. Deep hazel eyes almost stare towards you. His handsomely chiseled face should’ve belonged in magazines or reached social media nowadays. 

“Are you the new assistant? His voice is low enough to sound menacing, but you don’t tremble. 

“Yes, Sir.” You set down more essentials on the desk, walk around to shake hands with Kovacs out of respect. “It’s an honor to meet you, I’m Y/N L/N.” 

“Takeshi Kovacs.” He introduced himself. When he reaches to shake your hand in return, his palm seems calloused but gentle all at once. 

“I’ve scoped your morning plans already. Is there anything else you need right away?” You remain kind now and settle away from the handshake seconds later. It’s clear from previous emails that someone else handled morning duties before you showed up. 

Doesn’t hurt to ask more questions. You think to yourself and stand up straight. 

“Not exactly, but go ahead and print off my afternoon schedule early. Poe copied you on the new email.” The gesture is small, but Kovacs juts his chin and faces you with a smirk before daring to sit down in front of your own mahogany desk. 

“Yes, Sir.” You answer obediently and make another point to smile. Again, staying cordial and organized would hopefully keep you on the payroll, no matter how clipped or low his instructions sounded. 

You click through screens once again, find his document in question, and the printer whirs to life, inking additional responsibilities on paper. 

Gathering these documents in full order, you staple everything together and slide that schedule right across the desk towards Kovacs. 

“Thanks.” He clips the phrase without looking at you and eyes that document, furrowing his brow for a moment. 

“You’re welcome.” You shift back into work mode for a few minutes until he clears his throat out of nowhere and prompts to make eye contact once more. 

“Believe it or not, I detour these objectives most of the time. There’s a Monthly check-in scheduled for 2:00 PM, but I’d rather do something else.” Kovac’s pivot almost shocks you, but there’s no other choice. You can’t pull back and gape now. 

“What do you suggest, Sir?” You ask, anticipating. 

“Lunch this afternoon between you and me. I know a restaurant located just near the shore. Y/N, clear my schedule for the rest of the day and email Bancroft as a warning.” Kovacs nearly smiles, but the expression is so faint, you almost miss it. 

“Yes, Sir.” You almost stammer, but catch yourself and fall right back into work mode, eyeing the clock as if not doing so would’ve scared Kovacs out of this room. 

At least it was Friday. You think to yourself. 

[a-big-apple]

Whumptober day 1: "You have to let go."

I decided to do Whumptober this year!! I'll be posting as I go which is weird for me, so everything's going to be pretty raw and unedited (more in the messy way than in the WOW INTENSE STUFF way).

So, welcome to the first of a series of vignettes about the existential and physical horrors of being a pearl on Homeworld before Era 3, because that's a thing I like to think about. Whump isn't everybody's thing, so read if you like it and skip over these if you don't, it's all good!

Warnings for this one: character going willingly to her death. We're starting off strong here.

Prompt No. 1 - ALL TRUSSED UP AND STILL NOWHERE TO GO

“You have to let go” | barbed wire | bound

Two thousand, seven hundred and forty two orbits. I don’t know how to feel about it. Longer than any of my Jade’s other pearls. The one before me, she passed down their designations, their images, their histories. My forebears, all of us as wretched as each other. All of them broken or worn down to nothing, and I’m proud to have lasted so long, to have stemmed the tide of pearls used up and discarded. I’m grateful, now, that it’s almost over.

I’m sorry for the new one whose first task is to escort me.

My hands are bound behind me, as if it makes a difference, as if I would fight. I don’t need restraints, or an escort either; I’d go willingly. But I have one last task too. One last duty to discharge, one none of the others before me had. I’ve seen the Message, and I’ve understood.

It’s a short warp and a shorter walk to the station, and the Quartz guards outside wave us in without even a cursory look. They’re bored. Imagine being bored, guarding this place. But they’re just Gems, just as trapped as anyone else.

The new pearl, my replacement, is fresh from the Reef. She’s very pretty, poised. A more yellowy green than I am, her hair delicately curled where mine only waves. We walk through the front door together, her fingers curled around my elbow, the gem in her palm cool against my skin.

There’s a dead-eyed cream-colored pearl here, stiff as though every movement pains her. She doesn’t meet our eyes, but I remember her, from when I was fresh and fashionable as my escort is now. “My Peridot is out,” she explains, “but the system is automatic. You can enter whenever you’re ready.” In slow motion she gestures across the room, a set of double doors with little square windows for viewing.

I look to my replacement, and she looks back wide-eyed. “Will you hold my hand?” I ask. She freezes, just for a moment, assessing the allowability of my request and silently panicking. Nothing in her face moves, but her hand slides down my arm, tucks between my palms, touches our gems together.

Good. She has good instincts. Maybe she’ll last.

From my gem to hers I pass our lineage, a parcel of data stretching back and back, to our Jade’s first pearl, chartreuse and innocent, eager until the moment she cracked. My replacement shudders, so minutely only a pearl would see it. Then, quick and careful, I pass her the Message.

A recording—a memory. Just a moment, snatched by instinct, passed in secret. I can see it behind my eyes: Pink Diamond’s colony, visible in dizzying splotches through the lattice of Blue Diamond’s palanquin. A skirmish, and at the center of it, a blazing pearl with blades in her hands. The Renegade.

“There’s a service corridor underneath the courtyard, so that you can pass from one wing of the house to the other when she wants you out of sight,” I say. “You can be alone there. Don’t open anything until then.”

The set of her mouth flickers an affirmative.

“Well then. I suppose I’m ready,” I say to the dead-eyed pearl, and step forward—and stop, pulled up short. My replacement is still clutching my hand. She’s looking straight ahead, at the double doors, and her fingers curl into mine. I’ve forgotten what it is to be so young. I feel a ludicrous urge to tell her we’ll both be all right. “You have to let go,” I say instead.

She does. I step forward again, and the doors of the harvesting chamber slide open in welcome.

Next

[arofili]

elves of arda ✹ gondolindrim ✹ headcanon disclaimer ✹ @gondolinweek

          Turukáno Núrondil was the second son of Ñolofinwë Arakáno, and the King of Ondolindë. On the treacherous journey across the Helcaraxë, Turukáno lost his wife Elenwë to the icy depths, a traumatic experience that altered his fate forever. He was always a serious and fastidious nér, and in Beleriand his character grew even grimmer. He kept his daughter Itarillë close by, quarrelled with his elder brother Findekáno over whether to forgive the Sons of Fëanáro, and soon realized that what he wanted was to never have left the gleaming city of Tirion-upon-Túna.           But there was no turning back time, and Turukáno had no recourse to return to Valinórë either. Instead he set his mind to the creation of a new city, safe and hidden, where he would have total control over his life and his loved ones would never be in any danger.           First Turukáno settled in the land of Nevrast on the western coast, where he built the city of Vinyamar and spent much time looking out over the Sea, missing the life he used to have. Yet he was not idle: with him in Vinyamar were his cousin Laurefindil, a charismatic lord with a faithful retinue of warriors, and the harpist Nandáro who led a small group of farmers and musicians. In Nevrast, the Noldor mingled with those who dwelt there already, and Turukáno allied with Galdor, a lord of the native Sindar.           At the Mereth Aderthad, Turukáno broke bread with many lords of the Noldor and the Sindar, forming alliances and making many great speeches. He kept his plans for his hidden city vague, but promised safety and sustenance to those who would ally themselves with him. Not long after the Feast of Reuniting, Turukáno recruited the archivist and architect Penlod, a friend of his sister, to aid him in preliminary designs of a city resembling Tirion of old.          His daughter Itarillë grew ever more restless under his stern watch, eventually culminating in her secret departure to visit her uncle Fingon in Dor-lómin without her father’s leave. Turukáno dramatically lost his temper when he discovered what had happened, and his close friend and cousin Finrod decided he needed some time away from home to come to terms with his losses and fears.           Thus Finrod invited Turukáno to adventure with him across Beleriand. They spent a year together, wandering alone through hills and valleys, and Turukáno finally let his repressed emotions spill out. Finrod comforted and supported him, hiding his secret affections for his cousin all the while—at least until his own resolve broke as they spent a night together on the banks of the river Sirion.           The passions Turukáno and Findaráto exchanged beneath the summer stars were not to blossom into anything lasting, for that very night both were visited by Ulmo in their dreams. The Lord of Waters imparted visions of hidden kingdoms to them both, urging them to pursue their goals, but each thought they were the only one to receive the calling. Their minds were muddled when they woke, the night before hazy and indistinct, and clinging to their secrets neither Finrod nor Turukáno spoke to one another of either their dreams or their half-remembered confessions of passion.           Turukáno spent much time alone searching for the place Ulmo had shown him in his dreams, at last discovering the hidden valley of Tumladen. There, he knew, his people could be safe, and he immediately began to call upon the friends and allies he had made through fifty years of politicking to aid him in constructing a new kingdom.           In the one hundred and seventeenth year of the Sun, the city of Ondolindë was at last completed. Around him Turukáno gathered the greatest lords in his service, establishing ten noble Houses, with himself and his household as the eleventh. Thousands of Eldar, Noldor and Sindar both, quietly made their way to the gates of Ondolindë, but only one hundred were counted as part of the House of the King.           Among the folk of the King were the Unbegotten brothers Bruithwir and Finrun, serving as Turukáno’s personal bodyguard. They were grim folk, alike to their King in mood; they knew well the dangers of Middle-earth, for both had perished on the perils of the Great Journey and had been reborn in Aman. They served as guides to the exiled Noldor who had never before seen the far shores, and attached themselves to Turukáno, the prince they believed best knew how to endure the horrors of Morgoth.           A hundred years after Ondolindë was completed and its gates shut to the outside world, Turukáno completed his greatest creative project: artistic recreations of the Two Trees of Valinor, wrought in silver and in gold. He called them Lingancal and Valisil, known to his Sindarin-speaking subjects as Glingal and Belthil, and looked upon them with great pride.           Yet the day of their unveiling in the King’s Square, Turukáno’s counselor the prophet Amnon was gripped with a dreadful foresight. She prophesied that though they dwelt in a mighty and beautiful city, “great is the Fall of Gondolin, for when the lily of the valley withers then shall Turgon fade.” Already, Ondolindë had gained a number of praising names, including Lothengriol or Endillos, the Flower of the Vale, and the golden blossoms of Lingancal resembled the bloom of a lily. Though Amnon’s words unsettled him, Turukáno dismissed her warning and took heart in the artificial nature of his creation—for how could a lily of gold wilt?           Another hundred years passed in peace before trouble stirred in the valley of Tumladen. King Turukáno’s sister Aredhel Ar-Feiniel, Lady of the Tower of Snow, had come with him to Ondolindë for the sake of her friends and kin, but now she grew restless within the confines of the Echoriath and its surroundings. Though Turukáno was reluctant to let her leave, she refused to be kept caged any longer; Turukáno, knowing she would depart whether or not he permitted it, sent with her an escort of his three most valiant Lords and begged her to head straightaway the home of Fingon their brother.           But Aredhel went not to Dor-lómin as she had been instructed, instead turning toward Himlad where her friends Celegorm and Curufin dwelt. Along the way she was lost in the treacherous forest of Nan Dungortheb, and try though they might, her escort could not find her. They returned to Gondolin in sorrow, and Turukáno retreated into grief once more. Eventually he granted permanent leadership of his sister’s House to her friend Penlod, who had taken stewardship of her folk upon her departure, and all of Gondolin mourned her as dead.           Thus great was their surprise and joy when Aredhel returned unlooked-for—and with a son! For a day there was feasting and merriment, welcoming the indomitable Lady of the Tower of Snow back home, but soon the celebrations were cut short upon the arrival of Aredhel’s wicked husband Eöl, who when faced with the King’s decree that he may not leave Gondolin, slew his wife and was slain in turn.           Upon this great tragedy, Aredhel’s son Maeglin was left orphaned, and Turukáno took him under his wing. Maeglin was odd and reclusive, and Turukáno had never been the most emotionally intelligent nér, so while they performed an awkward familial act they were never as close as Turukáno wished. Upon Maeglin’s coming of age, Turukáno named him the Lord of the new House of the Mole in an attempt to show his love for his nephew.           When the Siege of Angband was finally broken, Turukáno did not send forth any aid to his kin outside Ondolindë’s walls. He did, however, send a select few mariners out to sea so they might beg the aid of the Valar, but none ever returned. Then came the fall of High King Fingolfin in single combat with Morgoth himself; his body was recovered by the mighty Eagle Thorondor and delivered to Ondolindë, where Turukáno grieved and built him a cairn. At this time Turukáno added to the emblem of his House a scarlet heart, representing the loss of his beloved father, before the symbols of the Sun and Moon.           Two years later, Thorondor delivered Turukáno another gift, this one more pleasant: he rescued the Mannish children Húrin and Huor and brought them to Gondolin, where never before had Men been seen. Turukáno grew fond of the boys, and at Húrin’s insistence he finally sent word to his brother that Aredhel had died, breaking his utter isolation for the first time. He was sorrowful to see the lads go when they returned to their homelands in Dor-lómin, his brother’s domain, and remembered them when word came to Gondolin a decade later of the formation of the Union of Maedhros.            Unlooked for, Turukáno led an army ten thousand strong to reinforce High King Fingon at the Fifth Battle. Gondolin’s sudden appearance turned the tide of the dreadful battle for a time, but in the end the Union was overrun and Fingon slain only days after he and Turukáno had reunited for the first time in over 300 years. The House of Hador, led by the now full-grown Húrin and Huor, defended the retreat of the Gondolindrim; in their final meeting, Huor urged Turukáno to escape and prophesied that from him and the King “a new star shall arise.”           Turukáno returned to Ondolindë amid great sorrow, having lost many soldiers including his faithful bodyguard Bruithwir, and assumed the title of High King of the Noldor in the wake of his brother’s death. The free-peoples of Beleriand were defeated in all but the three hidden strongholds of the elves—Doriath, Nargothrond, and Gondolin itself—and he saw himself as the last great leader of his people. Despite this, other Noldor yet lived outside his jurisdiction, and Turukáno’s new title did not extend his duties any further than the walls of his city, now more isolated than ever.           More mariners were sent begging aid from the Valar—and though none made it to the Blessed Land, this time one, Voronwë, survived, returning to Gondolin with a Man sent to the King with a prophecy from Ulmo. Turukáno was counseled to open the gates of his city and prepare for battle or else face the destruction of his people and city, yet Turukáno could not see any path to victory in open war and trusted rather in his own counsel and that of his nephew Maeglin.           Ulmo’s messenger was none other than Tuor son of Huor, and in memory of his friend Turukáno gave him leave to stay in Ondolindë. His daughter Idril was charmed by the Man, and in the course of a few years they asked for permission to wed. Turukáno hesitated at first, but recalled the last words of Huor and was moved to agree. Tuor and Idril were wed amid great joy, and he joined his wife as the leader of her House of the Wing; in only a year’s time, their son Eärendil was born.           But Ulmo’s warning soon proved true, for when Eärendil was only seven years old the golden lilies of Glingal were found tarnished and dented. Amnon urged her King to take heed of the obvious sign from the Valar and the fulfillment of her prophecy, but once more Turukáno refused to listen. This would prove disastrous, as on the morn of Tarnin Austa the armies of Morgoth attacked Gondolin and its great Fall began. Most of Turukáno’s Lords urged him to abandon the city, but Maeglin, who had for a year been acting fell and strange, convinced him to remain in an attempt to hold the city.           For much of the awful battle, Turukáno kept his House in reserve, but when Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs was slain he came down from his tower in all his splendour to cleanse the Square of the King. They drove back the enemy monsters for a time, but many of his folk were slain. The remaining folk gathered beneath Glingal and Bansil, slowly melting from the heat of dragonfire, and Turukáno at last saw that he had brought ruin upon his city. Now at last he recognized the truth in Amnon’s words, lamenting in an echo of her prophecy, “Great is the fall of Gondolin!” But Amnon did not live to see her King’s remorse, for she had perished in the battle.           Too late, Turukáno ordered the remainder of his people to flee through Idril’s secret way, though many had already begun the march. He threw down his crown and proclaimed that though all were free to leave, he would stay and fall with it. Galdor of the Tree attempted to return to him his crown, and Tuor and Idril thrice begged him to escape with them, but Turukáno refused and instead ascended to the height of the Tower of the King and cried out a challenge to the Enemy. He was assailed by dragons and Balrogs, fighting them off with his mighty blade Glamdring, until all his guard perished, Finrun defending him to the last, and the tower was felled by the might of many dragons, its weight and their flame killing Turukáno at last.           In time all those who were slain in Gondolin’s fall would be reborn in Aman, even twice-slain Bruithwir and Finrun and war-wearied Amnon. Turukáno’s return would come in time for him to visit Númenórë, the kingdom of his Elros his great-grandson, and he would be reunited with Elenwë his wife and Itarillë his daughter and even Tuor the Blessed, granted clemency by the Valar—and also his dear friend Findaráto, with whom he could now at last find new love amid the restoration of the old.

[artzychic27]

Pure Knight/Blood Knight

As he put his books in his locker, Nathaniel kept staring lovingly at the photo of Marc he kept inside. A few months after the Reverser incident, he and the writer started dating, and Nathaniel couldn’t be happier.

Marc was so sweet, cute, and just thinking about him always left Nathaniel a blushing mess. Especially when he saw that beautiful smile.

And hopefully, he’d be seeing that smile today. Nathaniel had been noticing something off about Marc- he’s more quiet than usual, he’s been wearing his hood over his head more often, and whenever Nathaniel asked if he wanted to hang out with his friends from class, Marc would either change the subject or say he had plans that day.

—

“Hey, Rainbow-“

He pauses when he sees his boyfriend, clearly upset. Marc was just lying on his bed, and looking up at the ceiling while listening to music on his headphones- Now Nathaniel was concerned. Marc would only do this whenever he was upset.

He walks over to Marc, pauses the music, and Marc turns his attention to him “Marc? Is something wrong?”

“... No, I just...” He sits up “... It’s just something that someone said.” Nathaniel sits down next to him and kisses him on the cheek.

“C’mon, tell me what happened.” He urges “I’m really worried about you.”

Marc smiled at his boyfriend’s concern, “Well, you know Lila?” Nathaniel frowns at the mention of the She-Demon’s name. She’s wronged the redhead too many times to count. Marc notices his expression “Nath?”

Snapped out of his thoughts, Nathaniel focuses back on Marc “Sorry. What about her?”

“I posted a story on Tumblr that I was proud of, but I guess Lila copied and pasted it on her Tumblr, then she told everyone she wrote it.” A few tears stream down his face “And they all believed her!”

“Oh, Rainbow.” Nathaniel cooed, then kissed him on his forehead “It’ll be okay.”

“No, it won’t. When I tried to tell everyone, they didn’t believe me, and Alya said I was jealous!” He wipes a few tears away. “Only Mari, Alix, Rose, and Juleka believe me.”

“And so do I.” He reminded, then wipes a tear off of Marc’s cheek using his thumb “It’ll get better, okay?”

Marc smiles “Okay.”

“Come on. Let’s work on the comic.”

After three hours of coming up with a storyline and character designs, Nathaniel went home, glad that his boyfriend is happy now. But he wasn’t. That lying fox had wronged him so many times, all because he doesn’t believe her damn lies!

“Accidentally” spilling drinks on his sketchbook, claiming to know a writer who could help improve the Ladybug comics, trying to frame him for stealing art she claimed was hers.

He could forget all of that, all of it, but making Marc cry was something he would not tolerate. He wanted Rossi to perish, not just her though, all of her followers. He just wanted them all to...

Nathaniel remembers he’s in Paris right now. A place where having negative emotions would turn you into a monster. So, he breathed in and out a few times and thought about positive things.

Being with Marc

People loving their comics

Mari having people on her side

Alix, Rose, and Juleka

...

From where he’s standing, Nathaniel glared at the sausage-haired girl sitting on the bench as she told more stories to her clueless followers flocking around her. He almost pitied them... Almost.

Alix sees what he’s looking at, and rolls her eyes “Just let it go, Nath. They’re all lost causes.”

“Yeah, I’ve done everything I could to help them, but they won’t listen.” Marinette says “If they wanna believe that I’m a jealous bully, let them. No more free clothes and food for them.” She folds her arms

He groans “Fine. But if she says one more thing about Marc again, I’m gonna-“ Rose interrupts him and asks “What’d she say about Marc?”

Answering her question, the Akuma class made comments such as:

“I still can’t believe he tried to steal my story!” The Italian whined

“He’s a fake!”

“He wishes he could write like you!”

“As if you could even call that writing!”

Marinette, Juleka, and Rose stared with their mouths hung open.

“Oh. My. Fucking- Ugh!” Alix exasperated “What the hell is wrong with them? That bitch doesn’t even write!”

Nathaniel continued to glare at the Italian, still trying to think about positive things so he won’t get Akumatized again

Being with Marc

People loving their comics

Mari having people on her side

Alix, Rose, and Juleka

“You should give that fake some lessons.”

... Lila getting what she deserves

“I bet that’s not even his work.”

Alya’s tabloid blog getting blacklisted

That lying bitch getting killed by an Akuma.

Those assholes falling off a big cliff!

His anger diminished when he saw Marc, halfway down the stairs. He was visibly crying, meaning he had heard everything they said. Nathaniel wanted to be angry right now, he did, but seeing Marc like that just made the redhead want to comfort him and tell him he loves him

His anger returned once again when Marc ran upstairs in tears.

It was probably enough to attract an Akuma, but he didn’t care. Those idiots deserved what was coming to them... But he didn’t want Marc to get akumatized...

Before Alix, Juleka, Rose, or Marinette could go over and tell them off, Nathaniel grabbed an apple out of Marinette’s lunch bag, silently thanked his parents for making him participate in two years of baseball, and chucked it at Lila while she wasn’t looking, hitting her right in her fat forehead, and ran out the courtyard while his classmates looked for the culprit.

—

Nathaniel could hear the wings flapping as he ran, and knew an Akuma was after him. The flapping got louder, and Nathaniel prepared to get akumatized once again, but the butterfly flew right past him... Marc!

He picked up more speed and ran right past the Akuma. After about a minute of running, Nathaniel found Marc crying in the art room and ran in to comfort him.

“Don’t cry, Marc, please don’t cry.” He whispers to Marc, hoping to calm him down before the Akuma would sense his negativity. “They’re wrong! You’re an amazing writer! I love you, Rainbow.”

The sound of the flapping of butterfly wings got closer. Nathaniel and Marc saw that the Akuma was in the room with them, and trying to pick which out of the two it would Akumatize. It was so hard for it to choose. Nathaniel’s anger and frustration were tempting, but it has originally been sent to go after Marc.

Being with Marc

People loving their comics

Mari having people on her side

Alix, Rose, and Juleka

“You should give that fake some lessons.”

“I know a way better writer.”

“As if you could even call that writing!”

Nathaniel pushed those thoughts in the back of his mind, got up, and stood between his boyfriend and the Akuma.

“Stay away from him!”

He couldn’t let Marc get akumatized again, he just couldn’t! He tried to keep his negative emotions down, but they were too strong. He kept thinking about his classmates. How they’ve hurt his friends, his boyfriend. How Lie-La made Marinette and Marc’s lives a living hell. The rage consumed him, that was enough for the Akuma to finally chose its target, and go in Nathaniel’s yin-yang necklace.

“Nath!” Marc cried as he saw Hawkmoth’s symbol appear on the face of his boyfriend. “Don’t listen to him, please!”

“What you did for the one you love was very noble of you. Almost like a Knight. I’m giving you the power to protect your love at all costs from those who dare try to hurt him.”

“Get out of my head!”

“You will go by two names. Blood Knight, a rage-filled seeker of vengeance. An unstoppable force to be reckoned with. The other, Pure Knight, protector of the innocent, and the defenseless.”

Nathaniel thought about Lila and Alya. Their smug faces whenever Marinette looked miserable, and the lies they spread about his friends. They would all pay...

“You yearn for justice, and to protect the one you love. In return for this power, you must give me Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous’. Do we have a deal?”

“I will protect him with my life.” He swore as the black and purple mist bubbles up from his necklace and surrounded him. When it lifted, Nathaniel was replaced by an armored figure, about a foot taller than him. The armor he was wearing was pure white with blue highlights. The helmet’s visor has a blue butterfly-shaped mark, and the helmet’s comb is a light blue. In his hand is a golden shield with a red and white yin-yang symbol. And around his neck was a necklace with a light blue orb.

Pure Knight heard shuffling from behind him and turned to see Marc has backed himself into a corner. He walks over to the crying boy and kneels before him as if he were royalty.

“Nath?” Marc whispered in horror.

He shook his head “I am Pure Knight. Your protector. I vow to be your shield, and smite those who have wronged you.” He takes Marc’s hand in his armored one

“They all will pay for their transgressions. No one shall ever harm you again, my prince.”

—

Marinette, Rose, and Juleka were trying to hold Alix back from knocking some sense into their idiot classmates.

“Alix, you said it yourself! They’re lost causes!” Marinette said as she pulled Alix by her arms

“Fuck that! They can mess with us all they want, but when they talk trash about Marc, I get crazy!” She argued, still trying to pull her limbs free, but stumbled when the sound of something metallic rang through the air.

Everyone looked to the middle of the courtyard and saw a large broadsword drop down, the point embedding itself on the floor. Holding the sword was Blood Knight. Unlike Pure Knight, his armor was black with blood-red highlights. The orb on the necklace was black. The same yin-yang symbol that was on the shield is now in the middle of the cross-guard of the sword.

Everyone took a step back as Blood Knight pulled his sword out from the floor. He looked at the Akuma class before his eyes settled on Lila. Then, something overcame him, and he surged forwards, pushing away the others to grab Lila by the front of her shirt and hold her up

“Put me down” She wailed “I didn’t do anything!”

“LIES!” He yelled, “Every word you say is nothing but a lie!”

“Nath?” Alix asked as she slowly walked over to the red knight “O-okay. Look, just put Lila down-“

“I have no quarrels with you, Alix. And unless you wish to meet the business end of my sword, you will let me do what should have been done long ago.”

CLANG!

“OW!” Everyone turned their heads to see Kim, clutching his fist in pain, possibly caused by trying to punch the Akuma.

Blood Knight throws Lila to the floor, then faces Kim. The athlete tries to look intimidating, but fails due to the height difference “...You weak, disposable maggot.” He said as he pointed the broadsword to Kim’s neck “You claim to be a defender of the bullied, and yet you aid one.”

Kim frowned “Lila’s not a-!”

In a split second, Blood Knight’s broadsword cleaved right through Kim. Everyone watched in horror as Kim’s figure disappeared in a puff of red smoke. Many students fled the courtyard, not wanting to be next.

“One down...” He turns to the rest of the class, who are still in shock “So many more to go.” He points his sword to Lila, who’s being held protectively by Alya “You are a danger to my Prince!”

Lila once again brought out the crocodile tears “But he’s the one bullying me!” She added a lip quiver for effect “He steals my stories and claim they’re his!”

Blood Knight growled under his helmet “Speak the truth now, or I will show you no mercy!” He pulled Lila out of Alya’s hold

Bring her reign to an end!

“I’m not lying!” She insists

“... Fine.” Thinking she’s won, Lila sighs with relief “Then your dark soul shall perish!” He raises his sword, the metal gleams in the light. Lila pales, knowing she, for once, won’t be able to lie her way out of danger.

Students look away, not wanting to see this again.

A second before he could bring this lying fox to justice, he felt something wrap around his armored wrist. ‘Who dares to defend this lying witch?’, he thought

“Nath, please!”

Hearing the cry of his prince, he turns his head to see that he’s the one holding onto his wrist. He takes a look at Marc’s face and sees the look of distress.

Kill her. Do it now!

He’s upset. Protect Marc! Keep him safe!

Blood Knight’s armor fades from red to white, and a bright light consumes the sword. When it dims, the shield is in its place.

“I know you’re still in there, Nath. You’d never want to hurt anyone...”

“My prince... I... I...”

Marc smiles, believing he’s getting through to him.

“I should’ve known!” Lila wailed, “You got Nathaniel akumatized so he could hurt me!”

The Akuma class, sans Alix, Rose, and Juleka, start hurling insults at the boy.

Kill them! All of them!

They hurt the prince!

Do you want to protect the prince? Kill them!

Rage consumes Pure Knight, and he becomes Blood Knight once again. Instead of the liar and her posse, he turns to Alix, Juleka, and Rose. In a flash, the blade sliced through them. But instead of them disappearing into smoke, their clothing transformed into pure white and gold armor, and in their hands were gold shields with yin-yang symbols

“Shieldmaidens, dispose of this lying fox!” Blood Knight commanded

“Yes, Blood Knight.” Alix, Juleka, and Rose responded in emotionless voices, then turned to the Akuma class. Before they could strike, Ladybug’s yoyo wraps around Lila’s waist and pulls her towards the spotted and leather-clad heroes, who are at the top of the steps

“I didn’t need your help! I could’ve taken them on myself!” Lila complains

Instead of Ladybug rolling her eyes, she just says, “You know, maybe I’ll just let Blood Knight take care of you, make our jobs a whole lot easier.”

Chat Noir plays along “Yeah, you get akumatized a lot, so this would be a win.”

“Okay! Just get rid of them!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Ladybug says as she retracts her yoyo. Then she and Chat jump down in front of Blood Knight. Ladybug addresses the rest of the students still in the courtyard “Everyone, get out of here!” The students either took cover in the classrooms or run out of the school.

Marc is about to run but he was suddenly pushed into Blood Knight’s chest, his arm around him in a protective hold

He sighs, “And here I was thinking you two defended the weak!” He turned to the shieldmaidens “Don’t let them leave!” He hoisted Marc in his arms and jumped to the roof of the school as the writer screamed for dear life.

“FOR THE PRINCE!” The three shieldmaidens let out battle cries and surged forward to duel Ladybug and Chat Noir.

--

One short battle later, and the shieldmaidens are trapped in the lockers with no way of getting out, thanks to Chat Noir put a broomstick through the handles.

They make their way outside where many students and teachers are gathered

“Is everyone alright?” They all nod and say that they’re okay.

Aurore walks up to the two heroes

“Two more students were turned into shieldmaidens, and kidnapped Alya and Lila!” She explained frantically

“This is their fault!” One male student yelled as he pointed to the Akuma class. “If it weren’t for that lying bitch and that damn tabloid writer, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“She’s right.” A blonde girl agreed “I heard the shit you guys said about Marc, that’s why Nathaniel got akumatized! All because you believed some lying skeeze!”

“You’re all idiots!”

“Why don’t we just let Nath kill you right here, right now?!”

The students of the Akuma class who were on Lila’s side got into a verbal brawl with the other students over if Lila is a liar or not, and whose fault this was. As the commotion gets louder, a loud whistle sounds out. Everyone turns to see Chat Noir with his thumb and pointer finger in his mouth.

“You can all this discuss this later! Right now, does anyone have an idea where Nathaniel took Marc, Alya, and Lila?”

“Alya might be live-streaming for the Ladyblog.” A boy calls out “You can see where they’re going.”

“Of course! Someone bring up the Ladyblog!” Ladybug ordered

Aurore did so, and the live-stream was running, showing Alya in the clutches of one of the shieldmaidens jumping on the rooftops

“Hey, viewers! Once again, I’ve been kidnapped by a supervillain!” She said while blowing out some of her hair that was getting in her face “At least this one is less handsy!”

“She’s not the best journalist, but you gotta admire this girl’s commitment.” Chat Noir commented, to which Aurore rolled her eyes.

Alya then panned her phone around to show Marc, now in Pure Knight’s arms, looking terrified from being up so high and flinching every time Pure Knight landed on a roof.

“If this faker hadn’t stolen Lila’s story, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

She phone pans to show Lila, also terrified as she’s hoisted over a shieldmaiden’s shoulder

“Lila, care to comment?”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir, get off your fat lazy butts and HELP ME, YOU IDIOTS!” Lila screamed in response

Alta pointed the camera back to her. Confusion is visible on her face. The superheroes scowled. That girl had some nerve. The Akuma class also looks confused. Wasn’t Lila supposed to be Ladybug’s best friend?

“It looks like he’s heading for the Tower. And before he left, I think I heard him say something about the perfect kingdom for his prince.” Aurore says

—

We’ll have our kingdom, my prince.

It will be perfect like you.

What about our revenge?!

Justice will be brought shortly.

Pure Knight turned his attention to Marc, still cradled in his arms with his eyes shut tight. Ever since he became Reverser and almost plummeted to his death, Marc had a terrible fear of heights. Pure Knight gently put Marc down, and when he opened his eyes, he found that they were at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Noticing his uneasiness, Pure Knight pulls Marc closer to his chest “It will all be over soon, my prince.” He turns to the shield maidens and gives a small nod. At that, they drop Lila and Alya with an audible thunk

“You clumsy idiots!” Lila screeched

“I’ve had just about enough of you.” His armor becomes blood-red, and the broadsword returns, much to the two girls’ horror

“S-so, Blood Knight. Any reason you brought us to the Eiffel Tower?” Alya asked, pointing her phone to the Akuma

“So all of Paris can witness the downfall of this liar! She’s going to tell everyone who she really is!”

Alya was becoming frustrated “Lila is not a liar! Why does everyone-“

“SILENCE!” He is about to silence the reporter with his sword but froze when he felt Marc hold onto his arm. He looked into the boy’s pleading eyes and sighed in defeat, “You should be grateful my Prince is merciful, otherwise, I would not hesitate to slice both your necks open.”

The sword starts to glow a bright red

“It is time for you to tell the truth once and for all, Rossi!” He yelled

Lila was about to get up and run, but the two shieldmaidens held her by her wrists. Blood Knight approached her with his sword still aglow. He points the tip of it to her forehead, and Lila began to glow red.

The light dimmed, and the shieldmaidens released her. Lila fell to her knees, clutching her head in pain. Alya was about to help her, but she was met with the sharp tip of Blood Knight’s sword and went back to recording.

“Now tell all of Paris, Rossi. What have you lied about?”

“I... I... I HATE LADYBUG! I WANT HER DEAD! I CAN'T STAND HER!” Lila screamed against her will

Blood Knight nearly dropped his sword out of shock, clearly not expecting that.

“When Adrien’s friend got akumatized into Oni-Chan, I tricked Chat Noir into leaving Ladybug so she would face the Akuma alone. That sword should’ve killed her!” Lila snarled “And I’ve been working with Hawkmoth ever since so I could finally get rid of her!”

Alya and Marc’s jaws hung open. Seeing just how dangerous this girl really was, Blood Knight transformed into Pure Knight and held his shield in front of Marc

“Continue.” He ordered

“That bitch ruined my chance with Adrien! So what if I lied about being some stupid fox hero? She should’ve minded her own fucking business!”

Alya scowled and watched as the comments rolled in on the Ladyblog. A few were jabs at her, but almost all of them were aimed towards the Italian

“Then there’s Maribrat! She’s just as worse as Ladybug! I tried to get her expelled, but look how that turned out! God, I just want those two idiots dead!”

Alya shuddered at that statement. She was now starting to regret how she treated Marinette for so long.

“All she had to do was fall in line like the rest of that dumbasses! But she decided to start a war, same for that skater girl, the pink idiot, the freak, that loser artist, and that f*g!” She pointed to Marc, whose eyes widened in shock at what he had just been called

Pure Knight’s armor began to fade from white to red “What. Else?” He growled

“I’ve never been to Achu! Jagged Stone never wrote a song about me, Clara Nightingale didn’t steal my dance moves, I never saved Jagged Stone’s cat!” She yelled

Alya’s confusion and horror morphed into rage. If her grip around her phone got any tighter, the screen would probably crack.

Back at the school, everyone is watching the live stream on their phones. Every student gives the Akuma class smug looks while they just look away, embarrassed and ashamed for believing the Italian’s lies

“And Adrien’s dad hired me to spy on him in exchange for a modeling contract! He wanted me to keep Adrien away from bad influences, and I was trying to isolate him away from those losers so he’d only have me!”

Chat Noir, who was vaulting from rooftop to rooftop scowled as he heard the live-streams from people’s phones. He knew his father was an ass, but this was just sick.

“Then I stole that sissy’s story and claimed it was mine!” She glared at Marc, who was still in Pure Knight’s protective hold “He had the nerve to call me out when I said I wrote his dumb Ladybug fanfiction! If I could, I’d push him off the railing right now!”

MURDER HER!

Pure Knight let out a yell, and Blood Knight was back in his place, somehow appearing more menacing than before. He’d gotten what he wanted- For all of Paris to know the truth about this wretched girl. Now to do everyone a favor, and deliver a final blow, then his prince would be safe from her lies.

The sound of Ladybug’s yo-yo whizzing by is heard. Before Blood Knight could react, the end of the spotted hero’s weapon wrapped around his wrist, refraining him from using his sword. The heroes land between him and Marc. In Ladybug’s other hand is a tube of lipstick

“You dare to stand in the way of justice?!”

“Nathaniel, this isn’t justice! It’s revenge! Ladybug tried to reason, but to no avail

“Don’t call me that! I am Blood Knight! And as long as I’m here, no one will harm my prince ever again!”

Blood Knight pulls on his sword and flings Ladybug over the railing. She manages to hold on by one hand

“Shieldmaidens, advance!”

The two shieldmaidens surge towards Chat Noir who uses his staff like a sword against their shields. Alya rushes towards Ladybug, making sure to keep an eye on Lila in case she tries anything, and pulls her up

“Thanks, Alya.” Ladybug looks around for any way to use her Lucky Charm

Chat Noir Cataclysms the sword so Blood Knight will be forced to be defensive

Have Marc distract Pure Knight

Take the necklace while Pure Knight is distracted

“That’s it! Chat, cataclysm his sword!” She ordered

“On it, m’lady!” Chat nodded and called out “CATACLYSM!” He maneuvered past the shieldmaidens, knocking them down with his staff along the way, then ran over to Blood Knight and touched his sword just before he could swing it at the hero. The sword disappeared in his hands into black ash.

Ladybug looked over at Marc, yelled, “Heads up!” then threw her yoyo at him. Pure Knight rushed in front of him with his shield up and deflected the weapon. Repeatedly, Ladybug threw the yoyo at the shield, making Pure Knight keep it up.

While Ladybug does this, she tosses the lipstick over to Marc. He looks confused for a moment until Ladybug winks. He gets the message.

Protect him!

They won’t take him away!

“Pure Knight?”

Is the Prince okay?

Help him!

Pure Knight kept his shield steady as he turned his head towards his prince. Marc couldn’t see it, but he was blushing under that helmet. How could he not when his prince looked so... So innocent. He was clinging to his arm for safety, he had dough eyes, and... Were his lips always that shade of pink? He looked so beautiful...

Pure Knight felt the writer’s hand reach up to the visor of his helmet, and lift it to reveal his red face. Marc smiles, relieved to see Nathaniel under the cold armor. He tenderly strokes his cheek and stood on his toes so he could reach his lips.

Pure Knight’s grip on his shield loosened as he kissed the soft lips of his prince. The shield fell to the floor with a thunk as he wrapped his arms around his Prince’s waist, and lifted him to his face so Marc wouldn’t have to crane his neck up.

They were so oblivious to the world around them. They didn’t notice Alya was still live streaming, Chat Noir trying not to squeal, and Ladybug, sneaking up behind Pure Knight, grabbing the necklace, and throwing it to the floor.

The Akuma flew out, only to be caught by Ladybug’s yo-yo.

“No more evil-doing for you little Akuma. Time to de-evilize!”

The purified butterfly fluttered out of the yoyo

“Bye-bye, little butterfly.” Ladybug told it, then threw the lipstick into the air “MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

 The thousands of ladybugs flew around the town, fixing any damage caused by the Akuma. Alix, Juleka, and Rose returned to normal and were standing outside with the other students. Kim was brought back. The other two shieldmaidens reverted back to their former selves. And the truth curse on Lila was lifted.

Black and purple mist engulfed Pure Knight, then lifted to reveal Nathaniel, his head resting on Marc’s shoulder. He looks around, confused

“Rainbow? Where am I?” He asked, but then noticed his yin-yang necklace on the floor, Ladybug and Chat Noir, and realized what happened “Oh my God.“ he looked to Marc, concerned “I didn’t hurt you, did-“ He didn’t finish as Marc hugged him tightly

“Don’t you ever do that again.” He whispered

“I... I didn’t want you to get akumatized again.” Nathaniel said as he ran his fingers through Marc’s hair “I love you, Rainbow.”

”I love you too, Nath.”

“You could’ve gotten here sooner, you know!” Lila screeched “I HATE YOU LADYBUG! HATE YOU!”

“WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LITTLE FUCKING CUNT?!” Ladybug cursed, much to everyone’s shock “I AM SO FUCKING DONE WITH YOU! I can live with you getting akumatized five dame times, hurting an innocent student, but I will not tolerate homophobia! Don’t think I didn’t hear what you said about Marc on the live-stream!”

Lila backed away, actually afraid, but bumped into Chat Noir who was snarling

“I should’ve cataclysmed you instead.”

Lila scoffed “Like you’d hurt me! Imagine everyone’s reactions when they see Ladybug and Chat Noir hurting an innocent civilian!”

“You’re just a little dumbass, aren’t you?” Ladybug asked coldly “Did you seriously forget that Alya has been live-streaming this whole time?” Lila paled as she saw the phone in Alya’s hands, and the news-choppers recording the scene “All of Paris heard every. Fucking. Thing.”

Chat Noir places a hand on her shoulder, and dug his claws in “And I’m sure the feds would love to hear how you’ve been working with a terrorist for the past three months.”

Lila tries to lie her way out of this once again “Th-they were all lies!” She claimed as she brought out the crocodile tears “The Akuma made me say them! He was just doing what Marc told him to because he’s jealous-“ She’s finally silence when a fist collided with her face. She falls to the floor with a thud.

Everyone looked at Alya, shocked.

“That’s for turning me against my best friend!” She yelled. No one noticed the touched look on Ladybug’s face

—

The police arrested Lila, and she was sent to life in prison for working with a terrorist, forging signatures, stealing money from students that were meant for charities, and many more. She went to a prison in Italy, because she was still kinda pissed about being exposed, and Hawkmoth could easily send an Akuma and allow her to break out.

Alya was the first to apologize to Marinette. The bluenette accepted her apology, but it would be a while before she could forgive Alya and the rest of her classmates. Adrien also apologized for giving her such stupid advice. It would also be a while before Marinette could forgive him.

Nevertheless, she still hung out with them, and their friendship slowly rekindled.

Marc and Nathaniel also received apologies, same for Alix, Rose, and Juleka for being treated as outcasts and badmouthed for months. Like Marinette, it would take time for them to forgive the Akuma class.

And Marc made Nathaniel swear to never be stupid and take an Akuma like that again. If the redhead weren’t so cute, Marc would gladly knock some sense into him.

[stormcrawler75]

if it hasn't been done yet (re the bad things happenbingo) could I ask for either amputation or damaged wing(s) with Remus please? I love what you've done with the prompts so far

Warnings: Amputation, hospitals, diseases, talk of surgery.

Characters: Remus, Patton, mentions of Roman, Logan, Virgil, and Janus.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hospitals smelt like absolute, sterilized shit.

Remus couldn’t fucking stand hospitals. Just the smell alone made Remus want to stay far away from hospitals for his entire life. Like, Remus got it. The people who worked there saved lives and the world would probably die without them. But Remus really hated hospitals. Maybe the problem was that they didn’t get enough money? Or that usually only shitty things happened at hospitals? Or maybe because of how many times Remus had been in one recently and he had only gotten shitty fucking news?

Whatever. No matter the reason, hospitals were still at the top of Remus’ shit list at the moment.

Plus, the gowns were itchy. Though, that might just be Remus’ opinion. He currently had one tied around in and was lying in a bed, waiting impatiently for the stupid kiddie clock - which was actually pretty cool because it was shaped like an octopus - hung on the opposite wall to hit three o’clock. Remus was so ready for this to be over with so he could go back home. Roman had promised to make whatever he wanted for dinner when Remus came back and Remus was so craving pancakes with cheese sauce.

Remus sighed and glanced over at his Dad, who was sitting next to him and reading a battered old Highlights magazine. “How much longer,” he whined, giving Patton his best pout. “We’ve been waiting here forever!”

“We’ve been waiting here for two hours, Sweetie,” Patton said gently, putting the magazine down on his knee. He glanced at the clock hanging opposite from them. “Well, it looks like you only got about twenty more minutes to go, Hon. Are you nervous?”

The question had been asked so many times by so many people lately that Remus could barely manage a scoff. “Me? Nervous? Nah, not at all! Hey, it’ll be pretty cool, if you think about it!” He forced a gasp and grabbed Patton’s wrist. “Do you think they’ll film it? Could I watch it later!?”

Patton laughed and shook his head fondly. “I don’t think so, Kiddo. But I’ll ask your doctor, okay? But if we do get it then no showing your siblings, okay? Especially don’t let Virgil catch you watching it, he would have nightmares for weeks. He’s already so worried about today.”

Remus’ jaw clenched at the memory of his two-year-old brother sobbing just a few hours ago and trying to cling to Remus’ hand. Virgil hated hospitals just as much as Remus and, unlike Remus, he didn’t have the maturity and wisdom that Remus had to understand why he hated them or remember just how long he had spent there as a baby. “He doesn’t have any reason to worry,” Remus spat, hating the pit of fear that was growing in his gut. “The doctors said that this is the best option for me and even if I’ll have to do therapy and stuff, I should be just fine.”

“Oh, Honey, he’s only a toddler, he doesn’t understand what’s happening,” Patton said gently, taking Remus’ hand and squeezing it. “All he understands is that his big brother is in pain and is going away to a scary place and is going to come back without one of his legs. He’s much too young to know what osteomyelitis is.”

“I’m fourteen and I don’t even fully understand what this stupid disease is,” Remus muttered, crossing his arms. So many people had tried explaining it to him and all Remus fully understood was that some stupid fungi had injected his right leg bone and they had caught it so late that amputation was the only option. “But I know that he shouldn’t be worried. It’ll be fine and he didn’t need to be crying so much. Logan and Roman weren’t crying.”

And, no, Remus wasn’t disappointed that Logan and Roman - old enough to understand what was happening - didn’t cry like Virgil had or looked worried. Not that there was any reason to be worried but it would’ve been nice for them to pretend to be worried!

Patton squeezed his hand again, looking down at him sympathetically. “Trust me, kiddo, they were crying plenty last night. Logan’s been looking up the operation ever since he learnt what you have and Roman is so scared about his twin. They were trying to be strong for you, that’s-”

“But there’s no reason to be worried,” Remus cried, throwing out his arms in frustration. “There isn’t, I’m going to be fine and there’s no reason for anyone to worry!” His eyes were filling with sudden tears and his jaw trembled with the force of keeping them back. “I-I’m gonna come home and annoy everyone a-and t-they don’t need to worry ‘bout me cause I am gonna be f-fine!” He sobbed and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, images of all the things that could go wrong flashing through his mind.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him forward until he was leaning against his dad’s chest. “Shhh, shhhh, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” Patton cooed, rubbing a hand up and down Remus’ back. “You’re gonna be fine, kiddo.”

“They’re gonna take my leg,” Remus sobbed, gripping Patton’s shirt so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “D-don’t let them take my leg, don’t let them, Papa!”

“Oh, Kiddo,” Patton sighed, resting his cheek on the top of Remus’ head and holding him close. “Sweetheart, I wish I could stop them from taking your leg. If I could, I’d take this infection and put it in my own leg so you wouldn’t have to lose yours. But I can’t, Sweetie, and I’m so sorry. And I know this is very scary but I’ll be right outside the room the entire time. And I’m going to buy you the best prosthetic that money can buy, I promise.”

Remus sniffled and he rubbed at his eyes, looking up at Patton sadly. “O-one with some design?”

Patton gave him a wobbly smile and nodded, kissing Remus’ forehead. “I’ll buy you two. A plain one and one with any design that you want on it. We’ll do it together, okay baby?”

“Okay,” Remus sniffled, leaning back against Patton and closing his eyes. “...How long now?”

“...Two minutes.”

Remus’ breath hitched and he fought back the urge to vomit. It’d be hilarious but then they’d have to wait even longer for this surgery to take place. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly. “I’m so scared, Papa.”

“I’ll be right outside the surgery room and I’ll be right there when you wake up,” Patton promised softly, sounding like he was holding back tears. It made Remus want to dig a hole in the ground and cry. He was making his Papa cry. “And as soon as the Doctors say you’re ready, we’ll go home and see your brothers and Uncle Janus, okay?”

Remus sniffled and nodded, wiping away the tears trailing down his cheeks.”Okay,” he whispered. He let out a shaky breath and forced a smile. “It’ll be okay.”

“Remus?” The two of them turned to see a Doctor and a Nurse waiting for them. “We’re ready for you.”

Remus glanced at Patton nervously and got a confident smile in return. “You’ll be okay,” Patton said, looking so sure that he might as well had been saying that the sky was blue. “I’ll be right next to you when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” Remus said softly, turning to the Doctor and Nurse. “I’m ready.”

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[a-dragons-journal]

My Experiences of Nonhumanity

I get asked about “what makes you/people in general feel you’re/they’re otherkin” a lot, and while the answer is far from simple and my experiences are anything but universal, I figure it deserves a write-up once in a while. A friend asked about it a couple nights ago, so I wrote up a huge long message on Discord, and decided to rewrite it into a Tumblr post for posterity. This’ll be a long one, folks; hit J on desktop to skip.

It’s worth noting ahead of time: none of these things are required to be otherkin, and none of them automatically mean you’re otherkin. In fact, most of them are little more than mildly “weird” quirks when they occur in isolation, and only start to push outside the range of “normal human experiences” when many of them occur together. You can’t look at someone (including yourself) and say “they like collecting things, they must be dragonkin!” It’s not that simple. You have to take the individual as a whole even as you examine each specific experience in more detail - don’t lose the forest while you’re studying the trees. This is just a description of my personal experiences.

Shifts

- Phantom shifts/supernumerary phantom limbs: Probably the most obvious thing and the hardest to brush off, although I still managed to do so for years. Phantom shifts, aka supernumerary phantom limbs, are the experience of feeling limbs or body parts that do not and never have physically existed. In my case, the most common phantom limbs to show up are my wings and tail; other body parts, such as digitigrade legs, horns, snout, and paws/talons, also make appearances less frequently. While my phantom limbs almost never attempt to replicate tactile sensations/interactions with the physical world, they’re often defined by very vivid proprioception (ability to tell where your body is in space, mainly via muscle stretch receptors), and I can tell where each part of the limb is at any given time - it’s not just a shapeless sense of “weight,” or it wouldn’t be phantom limbs. I can also move them at will, typically. My phantom shifts are typically spontaneous and involuntary, but they’ve been induced artificially a couple different ways as well, though I can’t typically do it at will.

- Sensory shifts: Still not something I’m totally sure I experience, but there are definitely times my sense of smell becomes insanely strong compared to usual even for me, which fits the definition of a sensory shift.

- Astral shifts: While I’m far from an adept astral traveler, when visualizing “traveling” within my own mindscape, I shift form fluidly between human and dragon - although I almost always have wings at the very least.

- Cameo shifts: Mentioned only because it’s relevant to my phantom shifts. I realized at some point that the reason I get cameo shifts of canine/feline ears sometimes is because they usually show up when they’re pricking/flattening to express emotion, and the muscles that move to do that action are basically the same as the ones that do those actions with the crest that runs down my neck, and because of my obsession with cats/dogs/horses as a young child and because that’s not a particularly strong phantom shift for me usually, I connected the dots a little wrong and created a false association.

- Self-image: This isn’t technically a shift, but it’s going here anyway because it doesn’t really fit in any other section either. My body image/self-image is weird. I know, consciously, what I physically look like. However, my instinctive self-image is... hmm. What I “expect” to see doesn’t always match up with what’s actually there when I look in the mirror. Teeth are a huge point of fixation for me for some reason; I always expect them to be larger, sharper, stronger. I expect my neck to be longer, my face to be... different. I expect scales in places. I expect claws. Even knowing consciously that of course it won’t be there, it’s still strange sometimes that it’s not. There’s sometimes some mild disconnect when I see myself. (Sometimes not. But sometimes.)

Homesickness

(Or, the sense of missing something you’ve never had - not of “I want/want to be [x], and it makes me sad/upset that I don’t have/am not that,” but of “I should have/be [x], and it is fundamentally wrong that I do/am not.”)

- Flight: I have always wanted to fly, and for a long time I thought everyone ached for the sky the same way I did. Most people don’t, as it turns out. Yes, everyone’s fantasized about flying, but most people don’t feel bones-deep, crushing, physical pain in their chest thinking about it. Most people don’t lift up onto their toes instinctively straining for the sky. I’ve felt that aching longing for it for as long as I can remember.

- Connection to dragons: For as long as I can remember knowing about dragons, I loved the idea of them and even when I was very young, when I’d only really been exposed to media where they were the great evil for the hero to defeat and received no more character development than “evil, destructive, fire-breathing beast,” I was always on the dragon’s side and wanted to learn more about them. That hasn’t faded. I’ll watch an absolutely terrible movie or TV show that I otherwise loathe if it has good enough animation and sound design on the dragons. (Looking at you, Game of Thrones.*) I would commit arson to see one of those Isle-style dragon survival games actually go through and finish production. (Holding out hope for the Dragon Game Project on YouTube; go check them out if you haven’t already.) I’ve also used dragons to represent myself for pretty much as long as I’ve had an online presence - years before I ever heard of otherkin, I was calling myself Dragonheart.

- Dragon-like creatures: Snakes, crocodilians, and dinosaurs all fall into this category - all of them give me a similar heart-and-breathing-pick-up, aching familiarity to dragons. They’re not perfect, but in a snake’s scales and a crocodile’s bellows and a dinosaur’s spectacular reptilian size I see echoes of us and I have always loved them with a passion, even before I quite knew why.

- Dragon/”monster” noises: Sound generators, creature sound design, real animal noises, etc. that are meant to be monstrous and that most people find unsettling or even frightening, I find comforting and relaxing. Alligator bellows, “monster noise” soundscapes, etc. all apply here.

* No shade on anyone who likes Game of Thrones, I’m just not a fan. :P

Behaviors/Instincts/Urges

- Hoarding: I’m still not sure how much of the crystal thing is "monkey brain say Shiney Colorful," how much is a witch thing, and how much is a dragon thing, but some of it is a dragon thing.

- Territorial/possessive nature: I can get... extremely territorial over my stuff and my home. This can extend right into being ridiculously protective of my people too, although I do try to rein that in to a reasonable amount. This also extends into games like Capture the Flag, because put me on defending the border during middle and high school and I got frighteningly territorial. (Fun fact, this extends to spiritual protection stuff and it has almost gotten me in trouble a few times on that front.) The other main side effect is my brain trying to claim completely inappropriate things as “mine,” like every piano I have ever touched or, that one time, the entire city of Portland.

- Prey drive: Going on a walk in the woods with me will always be an exercise in stopping every twenty seconds because I heard a small animal move in the brush and froze instinctively to track it. Prey drive ranges from "okay I can indulge this enough to track-stalk-chase without actually intending to catch-kill-eat" to "this is entirely inappropriate and needs to Stop Right Now" depending on the day and the situation - sometimes it’s fairly low-key and innocent, but sometimes it's also being confronted with the sudden and completely serious/genuine thought of grabbing someone or something by the neck/around the body with your jaws and hunt-prey-kill-devour when it's completely inappropriate and kind of disturbing or even sickening. It’s one of the more annoying things, although it’s not like it’s severe enough that I’m an actual danger to anyone - it’s just a gut thought that gets filtered out at the conscious level without significant problems. This also bleeds into games (I get... maybe a little overenthusiastic during tag) and even watching TV shows or gaming videos - most of the time at least part of me is rooting for the hunter because I relate to them as a fellow predator, even if the audience is supposed to be rooting for the prey - I mean, protagonists.

- Basking/heat-seeking: Probably only partially a dragon thing, but despite the fact that I hate heat in general, radiant/sun heat and heat from a heated surface are both fantastic feelings provided the ambient air temperature isn't too high. I'm guessing this is at least partially a reptile brain thing.

- Height-seeking: Give me a chance to climb up on top of something - a rock, a cliff, a chair, a table, a bunk bed - and look out over everything else, and I'll take it in an instant. Getting to climb up on the roof is the best thing that's happened to me this entire quarantine.

- Flight instinct: Being mildly leery of cliffs not because I am afraid of falling, because I'm really not, but because there's always some part of my brain that goes "jump, fly, this is a perfect takeoff spot" and I have to squash that before I do something particularly stupid. This manifests in other ways, but that's the most dramatic (and annoying) one. This is also one of the things I noticed as definitively not normal long before my awakening. (The Grand Canyon was fun.)  Similarly to the prey drive thing, it's not like I'm actually in danger of throwing myself off cliffs, it’s just - there's a not-insignificant part of my brain that thinks "hey we should go run and jump off and take a quick flight," in the same way I might also casually think "hey I should stroll across to the corner store for a bag of chips" before I consciously decide whether or not to do that. It’s the exact same type of thought process, despite the fact that one of those things is something I might do on any given school day, and the other is, you know, physically impossible.

- Combat instincts: I get in a fight and my pure instinct is to bite or claw, not kick or punch or whatever it is humans do instinctively. I have those reflexes now courtesy of Krav, but I had to train them in - if you’d thrown me into a fight before, I absolutely would have resorted to claws/nails and teeth immediately (and I still will, when pressed into a corner). Sometimes, unfortunately, this goes off completely unwarranted, either in an anger situation that does not deserve a physical response, or for no apparent reason whatsoever. It's one of the more problematic things, but once again - it’s not like it’s a compulsion, just a gut-emotion thought that gets filtered out at the conscious level.

- Scent focus: Who knows how much of this is environmental influence and how much is instinctive, but I always have and still do focus on scent more than most humans seem to. I can identify people by scent, I seem to pay more attention to it than most people do. I also seem less bothered by natural body smells than most people do, but considering the responses when I asked around in the otherkin community once about that, unclear whether or not that's connected.

- Nonhuman noises: I make just a bunch of weird nonhuman noises, and always have. Growls, hisses, croons, hurrs, throat-clicks, chirps, etc. I've never met any human who does them instinctively like I do except my half-sister (whom I didn’t meet until a couple years ago), and she was just as surprised to hear me do it as I was surprised to hear her do it.

- Affection: Face-rubbing, light head-bonking against someone’s shoulder/body/head, and love nips/bites are all perfectly acceptable ways to show platonic affection, to dragon brain. Human society disagrees. The instinct to do these things is so strong that I definitely do give into the first two with people I’m close with, and I have physically had to catch and restrain myself when I was about to unthinkingly bite/nip someone’s skin because I wasn’t paying enough attention.

- Movement: Moving on all fours just feels better than moving on two legs, even though it’s objectively physically uncomfortable because humans aren’t built for that. I also have the instinctive want to be a lot more flexible than I’m capable of being, in ways I’m not capable of being - curling all the way around something or someone to squeeze them tight in the coil of my body, turning my head a hundred eighty degrees because my neck Should Be Longer.

- Expression: Baring one’s teeth when frustrated, irritated, or angry is not a particularly human instinct. I realize it’s something a lot of primates do do, but. *gestures at society* Humans ain’t one of them, at least not anymore. Even in Krav Maga, which is a self-defense style that focuses on being vicious and “dirty fighting” to survive a real street fight, every single time I have a new partner (and most times I have a partner I’ve worked with before) and I get tired enough to get snarly, they respond with some variation of “god that’s scary”. See also: gesturing at things with my nose because it should be long enough to make that a much more dramatic gesture than it ends up being.

- Den/lair/small spaces: I never feel safer than when curled up in a tiny alcove just big enough to comfortably fit my body curled up into it. The only position I’ll prioritize over it is getting up onto a high space.

Past Life Work

Unlike every other bullet point on this list, most of these didn’t apply until I started actively seeking them out, because, you know. Past life memories are like that.

- Past life regressions: I’ve got a tag for these, but tl;dr I take anything I learn from a past life regression or similar meditation/visualization with a whole spoonful of salt, forget “a grain,” because I know for a fact my brain is very good at making stuff up with these types of exercises. Unfortunately, they’re the only way to get information on certain things, like appearance.

- Tarot: Got a tag for that too. I use tarot to ask questions and confirm or reject suspicions.

- Spontaneous memories: I don’t have many, but they’re clear as day when they do appear. I don’t count something as a “true” memory unless it includes senses I can’t reproduce through imagination - smell and touch, mainly. Mostly these are quick flashbulbs, nothing cinematic or anything like that.

- Noemata: Again, I don’t have much in the way of noemata, but what I do have is persistent and consistent. I know things about my wing shape and flight style despite not having really experienced that in detail during past life regressions. That particular set of noemata has been confirmed to fit with real-world physics and bat wing shapes (the closest wing type to mine that exists or has existed on Earth).

[justheretobreakthings]

Okay, we’re starting off Bad Things Happen Bingo with a bit of a throwback to the Voltron Bingo event from back in 2018. Way back then, I got a request from @familyofpaladins for my ‘Taking the Fall for Someone’ square, for Keith taking the fall for Hunk, and then the bingo ended and the prompt has just been sitting there for an eternity. But now, my BTHB card has just the square for me to finally get this prompt filled. Hope it was worth the very, very long wait!

Got Your Back

Written for @badthingshappenbingo Prompt: Taking the Blame Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Word Count: 13,198 Characters: Hunk & Keith Read on AO3

Summary:

While defending the planet of Crelxatain from attacking drones, Hunk causes what he believes to be some minor collateral damage, but what turns out to be much, much worse. And when the Crelxats needed something to blame, Keith steps in to take the fall.

I don’t even drink coffee.

It was fortunate that Hunk had gotten better with flying during the battles and flight practices he’d been through with Yellow. It might have been the Lions’ magic helping to keep their pilots stable, or the more mundane gyroscopic design of the cockpit helping with his equilibrium. Or, of course, it might just be a matter of him getting used to it. Whatever the case, he had come a long way since his Garrison days, when even a fifteen-minute run in a simulator would be more enough to empty the contents of his stomach.

It was fortunate, because if he hadn’t gotten better about keeping the nausea at bay, his cockpit would be a revolting mess right about now.

He and Keith had only been tasked with coming here to Crelxatain to negotiate for supplies, its geography home to mineral ore that Coran assured them could be top-grade fuel when Altean alchemy was in use, but just as they had approached the planet’s atmosphere, Yellow and Red both picked up a distress signal from the same city they were nearing. It seemed they had coincidentally arrived just in time for an air strike on the city from a nearby Empire ally, and the Crelxat had little in terms of defensive weaponry. So of course, that duty landed on the paladins.

If Yellow’s failed attempts to detect life in any of the little attacking cruisers was correct, they were only dealing with drones, not manned vehicles, but the maneuverability of the drones was downright amazing. They were constantly dodging strikes and blasts from Yellow, skimming near the tops of buildings and sometimes slipping between them, making sharp turns and speedy dives that left Hunk reeling.

The drones’ weapon of choice appeared to be some sort of energy pulse, and well-aimed blasts had elements of the infrastructure and sections of buildings toppling inward. These pulses were also being aimed at the Lions, and although they were made of strong enough material to resist being damaged by the force, the pulses would still send them jerking off course and blown aside.

Hunk groaned into his comm as Yellow tumbled in the air from one such blast, rolling rapidly enough that the gyroscopic cockpit couldn’t stop the blood from rushing to his head and then down again. “I swear,” he grunted, “When we’re finished with these things and back on the ground, I’m just going to spend like three days just lying on the floor, perfectly still, not moving. I’ve had enough movement.”

“You know we’re going to have to head back to the Castle eventually,” Keith replied through the comm. “That counts as movement.”

“So? Allura and Coran said we could take a few quintants.”

“Because it could take time for them to gather and refine the stuff we need, not because they expect us to conk out for days at a time.”

“I don’t care, I’m going for it. Day one, we place our order. Day whatever, we head back. Everything in between, we go comatose.” He squinted into the viewscreen and tried to get his vision to stop swirling before directing a blast toward an oncoming drone. The shot went wide, and the drone responded with a pulse that shoved Yellow backward and threatened to give Hunk whiplash.

“You hanging in there?” Keith asked.

“Yeah,” Hunk replied. At the corner of his viewscreen he spotted a beam of flame, the Red Lion’s fireblast, reducing a drone to ash. “Not as well as you are, though. Aren’t you getting dizzy too?”

“I was on the pilot track at the Garrison, I’ve been flying longer.”

“Still.” He righted Yellow as best he could and caught a drone in his sights. He sent off a cannon fire, and although he didn’t hit it head on, he managed to wing it just enough to send it spiraling. “Seems you’re taking down three of these things for every one I get.”

“We’re not keeping score, Hunk.”

“Just wish I was being a little more useful right now, is all.”

“You’ll be plenty more useful than me when we actually get around to talking to the Crelxats and making deals. You know that’s not exactly my strong suit.”

“Hmm, fair point,” Hunk said. “Your people skills are pretty abysmal, aren’t they.”

“Don’t hold back, Hunk, tell me how you really feel.”

“I’m just agreeing with you.” Yellow lurched upward, and Hunk narrowed his eyes at a drone zipping by from the bottom of his viewscreen while his stomach tried to right itself. He took aim with Yellow’s laser cannon, but just before he fired, another pulse threw the Lion to the side. The laser shot off, and he winced as it blasted through what appeared to be an enormous sculpture in a plaza below. “Crap,” he grunted.

“What is it?” asked Keith.

“I think I just took out some public art,” Hunk replied. “You don’t think that’ll come across as some weird anti-art statement, do you?”

“Let’s hope not. If the pulse things are giving you trouble, why don’t you focus on the drones that are flying higher up for now? I’ll work on the ones nearer to the buildings. Red’s got quicker reflexes, it’s easier to avoid collateral damage with her.”

“Yeah, sure,” Hunk sighed, managing to hold back a self-deprecating remark about how it was probably more to do with the pilot than the lion. For now, he set his sights on a drone careening toward the city's outskirts, and directed Yellow to go barrelling after it.

The pulses continued to give him no end of frustration, but he eventually managed to take down another three drones, and a scan informed him that the sky seemed to be clear around this elevation. He sighed with relief at the scan’s results, and reminded himself that he was this close to finally getting to touch down on flat ground and relax. His stomach was still churning, and his face was soaked in salty sweat, but it was over.

Well, almost over. The skies were clear at this elevation, but there had been more drones closer to the ground, and he wasn’t sure whether Keith had finished them all off yet. Odds were, of course, that he had, and might even be waiting impatiently on the ground wondering why it was taking Hunk such a long time to finish off his own batch. And now he was wasting more time catching his breath instead of actually finding out.

Heaving a deep breath, he grabbed the controls again and started downward, eyes peeled for signs of Keith. It didn’t take long to find him, as Red and her fire were making quite a scene above the city square, currently whipping around in a complicated air ballet while facing off against five drones at once, all focused on sending their pulses into Red from every direction.

Red was able to wing one of the drones before pulses from two of the others sent her flying back, and the Lion let out a growl that was echoed in Hunk’s comm as Keith let out one of his own. She dove back into the fray, expertly wheeling around between the drones and the building tops to send an arc of fire their way.

Hunk hovered on the outer edge of the ongoing fight, feeling the urge to help but not wanting to risk hitting Red by accident. “Uh, Keith?” he said. “There anything I can do right now?”

“Um, keep an eye out if any of these try to make a break for it,” Keith answered. “Other than that, think I got this under control.” As if to emphasize the point, a blast of Red’s fire hit one of the drone’s dead on, blasting it to ash.

“Okay…” Hunk said. He chewed at his bottom lip as he watched the drones, eyes straining as they flitted amongst their flight paths, trying to catch any sign that one of them was liable to break from the pack so he could go after it, but they all seemed to have their sights completely honed in on Red. It felt a little wrong to simply be waiting around while Keith managed the whole firefight on his own, even if Keith had sounded pretty certain of what he could handle and what he needed. He tentatively spoke up as Keith shot down another drone, “You know, um, maybe I could get a shield up and you can sort of feint toward it, see if we can draw them into - ”

He was cut off by a loud blast and a flash engulfing his viewscreen, and Yellow reeled back, sending him slamming his head into his dashboard. It seemed Red had sent out a powerful arcing blast from all to send the remaining drones careening out of the air, at the same time that the remaining drones surrounding her had all pulsed at once. Resulting in a shockwave that pushed Yellow back and, as was apparent when Hunk managed to blink his vision back into focus, leave many of the surrounding buildings with caved-in roofs. Hopefully any Crelxats inside them had had the sense to hunker down in the lower floors.

As he made sure Yellow was steady again, he glanced around for Red, and grimaced when he spotted her. She was still airborne, but the lights on her face and the tip of her tail were stuttering, while bolts of light crackled beneath her flank. “Um, Keith?” Hunk said. “Red’s not looking too hot.”

“I know, I’ve got it under - shit, hang on,” Keith grunted. Red turned around in the air, her movements jerkier than Hunk ever would have expected from Red, and starting soaring away from surrounding buildings. He followed in Yellow, and together the Lions made it to an open stretch of land. Red glided toward the ground, and as she was lowering, her lights went completely dark. She hit the ground with audible force, collapsing in a heap where she landed.

Hunk winced at the sight of the downed Lion before scanning his eyes over ground, making sure the terrain was clear for his own landing. He managed to maneuver Yellow close to the other Lion before lowering her to the ground and disembarking from her mouth. Keith was already outside of Red, standing with his arms folded and staring up at her face.

“You okay?” Hunk asked as he approached. “Looked like kind of a rough landing.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Keith said. “Managed to get nearly to the ground before she went offline. So, little abrupt, but nothing I couldn’t handle. We’re gonna have to see about getting her powered up again before we can head back to the Castle. Think it was one of those pulses throwing off the propellant tank that downed her.”

“Hmm. If that’s the case, I can probably do the repairs myself in a day or two, but we’ll need to replenish the fuel.”

“Hopefully the Crelxats will be willing to help us out for that.” Keith looked around. “Speaking of whom, see any of them coming this way yet? Battle’s over.”

Hunk frowned and joined Keith in peering about at the surrounding buildings. He had only seen a few sparse Crelxats on the ground while they had been in battle, the pale shocks of hair against skin shades of red and orange making them easy to spot, but most of them had likely fled indoors when the drones had arrived.

He felt a tap against his shoulder, and when he turned, Keith pointed; it seemed he’d been first to spot movement, and without a word between them they started off to follow the pair of Crelxats heading away from the Lions’ landing site and deeper into the city.

It didn’t take long for them to see where the many Crelxats had ended up, since after only a couple of turns they could see a crowd gathering in a wide plaza ahead, a murmur from the assembled onlooker reaching the paladins even at this distance. Hunk glanced to Keith, eyebrows raised, and Keith only shrugged, just as unsure as to what had the crowd so enthralled.

As they moved closer, heads began to turn in their direction, some of the onlookers nudging others beside them and pointing, the chatter gradually dying down as they stepped aside to let the paladins through. No face wore the joy or relief that Hunk was used to seeing from aliens after Voltron fought off invading forces for them. Instead, they were eyeing him and Keith with apprehension and suspicion.

This, Hunk decided, was not a good sign.

The Crelxats were quick to step aside for them, so they were able to reach the front of the crowd fairly easily. And Hunk’s stomach knotted itself tightly as he realized what they were all staring at.

The sculpture. The sculpture that he had blasted with Yellow’s cannon. Or, at least, what remained of it.

From above, it had been hard to see what the sculpture had actually depicted, and here from the ground, seeing only the bottom half, it wasn’t any easier to discern. The shape seemed to be fairly complex, a tangle of angles and loops, but nothing that resembled anything Hunk had ever seen before. His best guess was that it was an abstract piece; a lot of the public sculptures that could be found in plazas like this back on Earth were abstract. There was rubble, he noticed, bits of the same material as the sculpture scattered along the ground behind it, some of it smoldered black like the top of what remained of the standing sculpture, burnt up by the cannon’s heat.

The Crelxats standing nearest to the statue turned as Keith and Hunk approached, and one stepped toward them. She was half a head shorter than most of the others gathered nearby, although she made up for it with a piece of headwear that to Hunk just looked to be a tangled pile of wires. She appeared to be unarmed, although the other Crelxats just behind her all wielded either halberds in their hands or daggers at their hips; the weapons combined with the helmets on their head and matching sashes indicated that they were security of some sort, although Hunk wasn’t sure if they were guards for the city as a whole or just the Crelxat with the wires on her head.

Allura had briefed him and Keith a bit on who they would be interacting with on Crelxatain, and she had mentioned one of the Crelxats was both the governmental and religious leader for the city. Malvet, he was pretty sure her name was.

And right now, despite her being smaller than the other Crelxats and unarmed, he was feeling much more frightened of her than of the surrounding guards. Because he had never seen that much icy fury on a person’s face before. Her narrow silver eyes fixed him and Keith with a wrathful glare that he could almost physically feel, her hands clasped together in front of her were shaking from how tightly the fingers were intertwined, and dark veins pulsed visibly beneath the skin on her forehead.

“What,” she bit out, her voice low and dark and heavy, “happened?”

Hunk gulped, though it did little to alleviate the feeling of daggers in his throat or the clawing in his stomach. He had anticipated that people may be upset about the damaged sculpture - people always had a fondness for public art, especially pieces that had been around for quite a while and been accepted as an inherent part of the landscape - but the irate looks on the faces of Malvet and her guards and the horrified silence of the surrounding crowds was far worse than he expected.

Beside him, Keith cleared his throat, making Hunk jump. “Look,” Keith said, “I understand if you’re upset. But collateral damage is basically unavoidable against a weaponized enemy like the one that was attacking just now. We’re both here representing Voltron, and we were expected today, and we’d be willing to assist with repairs to your art while we’re here if you - ”

“Our art?!” Malvet spat, her face going an even deeper shade of maroon. “You believe this monument to be simply art?!”

“Um… isn’t it?” said Keith.

Her hand shook as she pointed a clawed finger toward the sculpture’s remains. “This monument is the vessel for the Twenty Gods of Crelxatain, the channel through which they grant life and fortune. It was built as a cenotaph to the spiritual leaders who have dedicated their lives to guiding Crelxatain to the will of the Gods, and as such is the one site wherein their connection to the citizenry is most powerful. It has stood for centuries, and now… it has been destroyed.”

“...Oh,” said Keith, as a murmur began rumbling through the crowd. He had paled somewhat, and seemed to be at something of a loss for words.

Hunk was faring no better; he didn’t think he’d be able to string two coherent words together right now with his nerves the way they were. This was much worse than he could have predicted. Why the hell would something this important to them be out here in the middle of the town with no additional protection? Why wasn’t it in some sort of ultra-enforced temple and under constant watch? He could only hazard wild guesses - maybe they wanted it to be more exposed to the people, maybe they had assumed that faith in those twenty gods of theirs would keep it safe or something. Now didn’t really seem like the correct time to ask about it.

Keith was the first to speak again, keeping his voice surprisingly level. “I - I appreciate the seriousness of the damage, then. Know that we did what we could to prevent it. The drones were - ”

“No,” Malvet cut him off. “We witnessed these drones. They used force, yes, their weapons have done damage enough. But they burned nothing. The monument - it has been burned.” She swept her arm out to gesture again toward the remains, the singeing and ashes seeming somehow darker now. “We witnessed your ships too. You had cannons and flame. So tell me,  representative of Voltron. What. Did. You. Do?”

“I - ”

“Which of you did it?!” Her voice rose abruptly in volume, crackling with despair. “It had to have been one of you! This callous destruction - which of you is to blame?!” She rounded on Hunk, who stepped back, swallowing down a whimper. “You’ve not spoken, have you, yellow one? And why is that? Have you nothing to say?! No words in your defense?!”

Hunk could feel an icy sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. “I - I - I, uh - ”

“Is it guilt that stays your tongue?!” Malvet continued, jabbing a gnarled finger toward him. “Is the sight of the damage you’ve done before you too much to - ”

“I’m sorry,” Keith suddenly spoke up beside him. Hunk and Malvet both turned to him, incredulous, as Keith stepped forward, arms crossed over his chest and eyes on the ground.

“You’re sorry,” Malvet repeated tonelessly.

“Yeah,” Keith said. “It was my doing. Red - you know, you saw her out there, she’s awfully fast, and, um, gets real heated in battle and stuff, so it can be easy to kinda - to lose control, see, and I wasn’t really paying attention to the, um - ” He waved his hand in the direction of the destroyed sculpture. “The scenery, and stuff, so, yeah. It’s my fault, and I’m sorry.”

Hunk bit his lip as he turned his attention back to the Malvet, who was examining Keith with narrowed, probing eyes. If she knew Keith at all, it would be obvious that he was lying. He had rambled and stumbled and refused to look even remotely in her direction and his voice had kept getting lower as he spoke. All tells of his. Not to mention that Keith was the least likely of any of the paladins to ever focus during a battle or be unable to handle his Lion’s agility and fire.

But the Crelxats didn’t know Keith, so after several ticks of silent examination, Malvet hissed out, “I see.”

She stepped back, and Keith’s eyes darted upward, looking apprehensive. Malvet let silence ring throughout the square for a couple seconds more, but just as Keith opened his mouth to speak again, she nodded.

Instantly there was an eruption of activity, and Hunk was nearly knocked to the ground by the guards rushing past him toward Keith. Half a dozen fully armored guards descended on Keith, and though Hunk saw Keith’s hand fly instinctively to his hip where his bayard was holstered, he either was too caught off guard to grab it in time or thought better of whipping it out right now, since it was still holstered when his arms were wrenched behind his back and he was brought forcefully to his knees.

“Hey!” Hunk yelped. “What are you - ?” His attempt to rush forward to help Keith was stymied by halberds crossed in front of him, and a guard took his arm to hold him back, although he was handling Hunk more gently than his fellow guards were handling Keith, whose ankles were being pinned to the ground by heavy boots on top of them and whose hair was in the tight grip of gauntlet-covered hands. “Stop it!” Hunk cried. “You’re gonna hurt him!”

“After what he has done to us, hurt only seems fair as recompense,” Malvet said, stalking over to glower down at Keith. Around him, Hunk could hear others in the crowd murmuring their agreement. “He must be made to pay penance.”

“He didn’t do anything to you!” Hunk shouted.

“He just confessed to being responsible for the destruction of our monument.”

“But it wasn’t his fault! He only - ”

“Not his fault?” Malvet finally turned to Hunk. “Are you saying that his confession was inaccurate?”

Keith shook his head, or at least gave a little twitch in the guards’ grasp that may have been meant as a head shake, but Hunk nodded at the Crelxat, relieved. “Yes, yes, that’s what I’m saying! It was my - ”

But Malvet was already turning away before Hunk could finish, making a gesture to one of the guards. “You heard him; remove it.”

“Oh thank God,” Hunk sighed. “I’m sure we can all - um - ” He faltered as he watched the guards. When Malvet had told them to ‘remove it’, he had assumed she meant removing their feet from on top of Keith’s legs or removing the weapons from where they were pointed at him, sharp tips far too close to Keith for Hunk’s liking. But they weren’t. Instead, they still held him in place despite his struggling, and one of them had moved in front of Keith and was grabbing his jaw. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“If his tongue is to be used to spew false witness before the eyes of the twenty gods,” Malvet said, “Then it is of no good to us nor to him. It shall be removed.”

Hunk’s eyes blew wide, every drop of blood in his veins turning to ice as the guard managed to force Keith’s mouth open and a dagger’s blade approached. “No! No, no, no, you can’t do that! He - he wasn’t lying, you misunderstood!”

“And pray tell, what did I misunderstand?” Malvet said.

“Just - I meant - he - it was an accident,” Hunk fumbled weakly. “He did but - but he didn’t mean to, you know? It was, like, unavoidable. So - so - so it’s not his fault.” He glanced toward Keith, trying to figure out whether that had been the right thing to say, but with the way the guards were still holding his jaw and gripping his hair, Keith couldn’t exactly make an expression to indicate one way or the other.

Malvet let out a derisive sniff. “Unavoidable? The people of Crelxatain have avoided damaging it for centuries. This one could easily have done the same.” She turned away from Hunk again, back to the guard. “How soon can we have him perform his penance.”

The guard let out a pensive hum before replying, “We’d need until overmorrow’s nightfall to prepare and deliver an oblation to the twenty gods. The penance can take place the morning after.”

“Begin preparations, then,” Malvet said with a nod.

Keith was hauled to his feet, meeting Hunk’s gaze as one of the guards behind him drew a set of shackles from somewhere within their armor to cuff his hands behind him. “Hunk,” he said, a slight rasp to his voice, no doubt from the way his mouth had been manhandled a moment ago, “It’s gonna be fine, okay?”

Hunk almost let out a laugh of sheer disbelief. Keith should be the one being reassured right now, not Hunk. “Are you insane?” Hunk said.

“Look, just get the supply stuff taken care of, I’ll figure this out, and we can - ”

“Get moving,” one of the guards said, shoving him away from Hunk as two others began wheeling him around by the arms.

“Just a sec,” said Keith. “See if you can get Red up and - ”

He grunted, his words cut off by the hilt of one of the guards’ daggers being slammed into his face. When he scowled back up at the offending guard, his nose was bleeding. “I said get moving,” the guard growled.

“Hey!” Hunk cried. He tried moving toward the retreating guards, but the ones who had held him back before intercepted him again. “Hey, you can’t treat him like that!”

It was useless. The guards ignored him, and as the crowd began surging and milling around him, they disappeared, along with Keith.

This was so, so, so bad.

For a long moment he simply stood there on shaking knees, uncertain what to do, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He whipped around, coming face to face with a tall, narrow-faced Crelxat. “What?” he snapped.

“Your companion said you were here as a representative of Voltron,” the Crelxat said. His expression was stoic, unfazed by Hunk’s tone and by the scene that had just gone down before him.

“Yeah,” Hunk said. “And?”

“I am Kalgex? Of the Crelxatain Geological Survey Bureau and Mine Repository. I was contacted about overseeing a trade deal between your organization and our department?”

Hunk stared. “Um,” he said, “Look, I’ve kind of got other things on my mind at the moment. Keith - I - I don’t know where they’re - I have to figure this out, I have to see - ”

“I am certain a member of the security force will be in contact with you once your friend has been duly processed,” Kalgex said. “They are quite efficient in matters of communication.” He pulled something out of his pocket, a small cylinder with a screen across it that lit up like a cell phone. “Those attackers put us behind schedule. We really oughtn’t postpone negotiations any longer than necessary.”

A part of Hunk, a small but strong part, wanted to punch Kalgex in the face right then and there. He was talking about Keith being arrested and hurt and forced to pay ‘penance’ - Hunk wasn’t sure what that entailed exactly, but it didn’t sound like fun - as if it were a minor inconvenience in a normal workday. As if Hunk were being somehow unreasonable for wanting to go after him rather than worry about the stupid ore.

“No,” he said. “No, I have to go.” He turned away, scanning the crowd and spotting the array of wires that had decorated Malvet’s head. Immediately he began shoving his way through the crowd, ignoring Kalgex calling after him, and didn’t stop until he had reached her, right on the edge of the plaza with a guard at each side. “Hey!” he shouted. “Where did you people take Keith?!”

She turned, eyeing him up and down with pursed lips, like he was a stain on her floor that she was deciding how to get rid of. “To the holding cells to await penance, of course,” she answered.

“And where’s that, huh?”

Malvet’s eyes narrowed. “He will not be allowed visitors until his case has been fully processed according to our laws. Respect our criminal proceedings should be the least we could ask of Voltron, considering the disrespect your friend has shown toward our - ”

“Yeah, I know,” Hunk said, frustration turning his voice to a growl. “Fine. When will that be done so I can visit him?”

“I will see to it you are contacted when proceedings are completed,” Malvet said. It wasn’t exactly an answer, but at least it was an assurance that he would get to visit Keith before the penance took place. “And of course,” Malvet continued, “Your companion will be duly returned to you once penance has been completed.”

“Right,” Hunk sighed. “So, what is this ‘penance’ anyw- ”

But Malvet had already turned away, leaving Hunk standing uselessly, grinding his teeth and dreading what the answer would have been.

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

He tried and failed to come up with a plan.

His first thought once he finally accepted that the whole situation with Keith was out of his hands was, naturally, to contact the other paladins for help. But the reason it had only been himself and Keith coming to Crelxatain in the first place was that the others were on missions of their own. They had docked the Castle, shields in place, on a moon in a neutral zone the next star system over, and Shiro and Allura were off on Heliuruta to negotiate allowance through their blockade into the quadrant, while Coran had recruited Lance and Pidge to help him on a medical supply-gathering expedition. So Hunk couldn’t reach any of them at the Castle, didn’t know where on the planets the groups had gone and wouldn’t have time to track them down, and couldn’t contact them through just the Lions’ communications system at such a range.

Which meant that whatever happened to Keith, he was going to be the only one around to deal with it.

It also meant that he was stuck doing the negotiations for the Crelxat ores alone. Between himself and Keith, Hunk was better with numbers, but Keith was more stubborn and better at steamrolling attempts to mislead. By the time he wrapped up his meeting with Kalgex and his board, they had wound up settling on a price nearly twice as high as what Coran had told them to aim for.

Hunk couldn’t bring himself to be that put out about it, though. The main reason he’d done such a lackluster job of negotiating, after all, was that his mind was more occupied with the much more pressing matter of what the hell was happening with Keith.

He managed a grand total of less than a varga of sleep the first night on Crelxatain, despite the comfortable accommodations that had been prepared for him at a lodging house not far from the plaza where the monument had stood. He had made sure every single member of the staff there knew that they were to come get him immediately the instant anyone contacted him about getting to visit Keith, but no message came.

The Crelxats had predicted it would take them about two days to refine the ore he’d requested and prepare it for transport, so he tried to occupy his time by working on repairs for Red. He dried up nearly all the GAC they’d been given for this trip gathering tools and supplies for it - apparently the ability to fix vehicles must have been considered something of a luxury in Crelxatain, and was priced as such - and as he set to work on her dark and still form, wondered what she would be doing right now if she were up and running. If she was calm, then he’d know Keith was okay. If she was angry and trying to reach Keith by force… well, then he’d be even more worried than he was now, but at least Red would be helping to take care of the problem.

He worked on her throughout the day, still with no word about Keith, and the longer he went without answers the more nauseous he felt. He managed to eat some lunch between getting supplies and starting on Red’s repairs, and it sat like rocks in his stomach for the rest of the day. He didn’t bother with dinner.

He managed to fall asleep at some point that night, and woke tangled in his bedding after tossing and turning in his sleep, not feeling refreshed at all.

It wasn’t until later that day, when he returned from Red’s landing site back to the lodging house, promising himself that he would at least try to eat something because starving himself wasn’t going to help Keith, that he discovered a member of the security force was there waiting for him, had told the staff that he was there to escort Hunk to visit ‘the prisoner’ as requested.

Finally.

The walk to where Keith was being held wasn’t far from the plaza that had housed the monument, and the building he was led into looked from the outside a bit like a country church, long and narrow and with a vaulted roof. Hunk was led into a dim anteroom as the guard who escorted him had a muttered conversation with another who was standing watch inside, then, another door was opened, and he was ushered through and into a hall lined on each side with cells. The guard didn’t accompany him any further past the door, just told him, “You have fifteen doboshes,” before taking his leave, slamming the door shut behind him.

The hall was just as dim as the anteroom, the walls and floors a shale-like shade and narrow windows in the walls of the cells lining only one side of the hall casting sharp shadows, so it took a moment for Hunk to spot the cells’ only occupant, seated on the floor against the wall at the end of the hall. When he did, he let out an enormous breath of relief and rushed toward him, yelling out, “Keith!”

Keith looked up at the sound of his name, and Hunk grimaced at the sight of him as he got to his feet. He’d been stripped of his armor and left only in his dark undersuit, and was shackled hand and foot, maybe a foot and a half of chain between each metal cuff on his wrist, and the same around his ankles. A red and purple bruise spread from his cheek to his nose, swelling enough to make one eye squint; this was likely the result of that guard who had struck him with the dagger hilt the other day. Besides that, Keith appeared to be uninjured, just tired, a fact that the dark rings beneath his eyes could attest.

“Hunk,” he said. “So, um. So, how are you do- ?”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Hunk cried. Honestly, he had been intending to ease into that a bit more, give Keith a friendly greeting and see how he’d been being treated before moving onto the topic of what the actual quiznak Keith had been thinking, but it seemed his brain had forgotten to relay that plan to his mouth.

“Hunk,” Keith repeated, lifting his shackled hands placatingly. “You have to be calm, all right?”

“How can I - you can’t expect - what were you thinking?!” Hunk demanded. “You know as well as I do that Red didn’t - ”

“Hunk, I’m serious. They’ll hear you.”

Hunk shut his mouth, teeth coming together with a click, and looked back toward the door. Right. Apparently the Crelxats really didn’t like being lied to. As much as he hated it, their story was that Keith had been the one to ruin the monument, and that’s the story they were going to have to stick with if they wanted to get out with their tongues still intact. “Sorry,” Hunk said. His eyes roved over the rest of the hall, stopping at the sight of a lens near the ceiling in the center. “Crap, will they be able to hear - ?”

“That one’s just video, no audio,” Keith said. “They can’t hear us.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“The guards told me.”

Hunk raised a brow. “And you’re just taking their word for it?”

“Course not,” Keith replied, shaking his head. “I tested it. They didn’t care one lick about me slinging insults at them through that camera for about an hour straight. Moment I said the same while they were actually here, they got pretty thin-skinned.” He tapped lightly at the dark bruise on his face. “This, uh, this was smaller yesterday.”

Hunk winced. “Dang it, Keith,” he said. “Why did you have to go and do that, huh?”

“... You mean, why’d I have to insult them?”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

There was a long moment’s pause between them, and then Keith sighed. “I was trying to help, Hunk,” he said. “That’s all. That Malvet, she was so mad, and the guards were at the ready, and you - well, you were - ” He took a deep breath. “I dunno. Maybe if you were able to see how you looked in that plaza, you’d get why I needed to step in.”

Well, Hunk could certainly recall feeling terrified to his core, but he didn’t know how much of it had actually shown on his face. If it was enough to get Keith to take the fall for him like that, though, it was too much. “I mean, you did a heck of a lot more than ‘step in’,” he said. “Look, Keith, don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but I - God, man, I really wish you hadn’t done that.”

The shadow of a sad smile played on Keith’s lips before vanishing again. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Wasn’t really expecting you to be overjoyed about it. But it’s not like they were giving us a whole lot of time to come up with a better plan to get you out of that mess than just… getting in myself.”

“Why did you decide you needed to get me out of it in the first place?”

Keith frowned at him, appearing genuinely surprised. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because - because I’m the one who caused the mess? Yeah, it was an accident, but it still was mine to own.”

Keith shrugged. “We’re teammates, right? Your mess is my mess.”

“I - ” Hunk took a long breath and blew it out slowly. “You really picked a horrible time to embrace team spirit.”

“I guess. Can’t exactly go back now, though.”

“Right, suppose not.” He let the silence linger a little longer, half-hoping that Keith would suddenly pipe up with an, ‘Unless…’ and a brilliant idea to make everything right, but of course he didn’t. “So we’re just supposed to see this out to the end, huh? Endure whatever they throw at you?”

“Don’t exactly have much choice,” Keith answered. “But, I mean - it’s just a waiting game until tomorrow morning. They’ll dole out their punishment and then it’s over. Just have to get it over with. Did you get the ore stuff taken care of?”

“Yeah,” Hunk said. “And don’t say ‘just get it over with’ like it’s just a hard test at school or something, man. They’re gonna - I don’t even know what, but they were awful mad. What are they planning to do tomorrow anyhow?” Keith didn’t answer, and Hunk’s gaze grew more intense, newly ignited worry crackling in his gut. “Keith? Do you know what’s gonna happen?”

Keith hesitated, dropping his gaze. “Okay, um, they, uh, they haven’t really given me much to go on, so I don’t know for sure.”

“But you have some idea?” Hunk prodded.

“Well, so, you know they said that I’ve got to face ‘penance’ for the monument.”

“Yeah.” Hunk fought down the anxiety that bubbled up at the mere mention of the word. “Still don’t quite know what that means, though.”

“Right.” Keith took a deep breath. “Well, uh, no one’s said anything to me directly, but I’ve overheard some chatter. From the guards here, see. They don’t seem to have any specifics either, but they’ve got a better idea of what ‘penance’ usually refers to, so they were talking, and, um…” He trailed off and began to chew at his lip.

“And what?”

Keith lifted his eyes back up to Hunk, and they were wide, brow pinched, almost appearing apologetic. “You have to promise not to freak out.”

Immediately Hunk was fully prepared to freak out. “What do you mean? What’s there to freak out about?! Keith, what’s gonna happen?!”

“Okay, look, it’s probably not as bad as - ”

“Keith, if you have to warn me not to freak out, it’s probably pretty bad!”

“That’s not what - it’s not the penance part, I just didn’t want you to feel guilty about what happens, all right? I promise, Hunk, I’m gonna be able to handle it. Okay? Whatever happens, you’ve got to keep a cool head. The last thing we need is for them to decide to detain you too. And, well - ” He let out a little cough and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m probably, um, gonna need you to help me out afterward…”

Hunk gulped. As much as he dreaded the answer, he had to know. “Keith,” he said, “What’s the penance?”

There was another second’s hesitation before Keith quietly answered, “If what those guards were saying was true, Crelxatain seems to be fond of, um… corporal punishment. A public display of it. Apparently it’s, um, they seem to think it’s an effective way to, uh, deter repeat crimes, and, like - ”

Hunk’s voice, which had frozen in his throat at some point while Keith had been talking, managed to find just enough strength for him to repeat in a squeak, “Corporal punishment?!”

Keith winced. “Yeah. Um, best as I could tell from what they were saying, flogging’s pretty common, so that’s probably the most likely, but, um, yeah… Hunk? Please don’t freak out.”

“How can I not freak out?! Keith, they’re going to - !”

“I know,” Keith snapped. “I - yeah, I know.” He huffed out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, it’s not like I’m looking forward to it, but it’s not exactly like we can opt out. The place is under heavy guard, Red is still down… Only thing for us is to ride this out, let them take their anger out on me if they have to, then get back to the Castle as soon as we’re able so we can, um, you know.” He tightened his arms where they were crossed. “Fix anything that needs fixing.”

With a frustrated sigh, Hunk leaned against the wall, letting his shoulder rest up where the hard wall met the narrow bars of Keith’s cell. His legs were feeling leaden, like they would give out on him if he spent much longer standing on his own two feet, so he let himself slide down toward the floor. Once he was seated, Keith joined him, sitting down cross-legged on the other side of the bars, although it took some maneuvering to get settled with those chains on his ankles. “You okay?” Keith asked.

“Don’t ask me that,” said Hunk. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be in that cell right now, not you.”

“Hunk,” said Keith, “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t do anything wrong either! You know as well as I do that Yellow was the one who took down that monument. You’re too good a pilot, you’d never let something like that happen with Red.”

“It has nothing to do with who’s a better pilot. Yellow’s bigger than Red, it’s harder to avoid collateral damage with her.”

“Doesn’t matter. The damage was still mine. And you - ” His lip began to tremble, and Keith seemed to tense at the catch in Hunk’s voice. “You shouldn’t have lied to the Crelxats like that. You should’ve just let me take responsibility. What good does it do for you to have to do this stupid ‘penance’ thing instead of me?”

“Hunk, I - ”

“Either way, we’re ending up with one paladin who’s gonna wind up really, really hurt, so why did you get to decide it should be you instead of me, huh? Why would you go and complicate things like that? What the hell were you thinking?!”

Keith sighed, bringing his hands up and combing his fingers into his hair as he grabbed his head. “I was thinking, you were scared. And I just… I dunno. I wanted to fix that.”

Hunk set his jaw, hoping that that would help keep the tremor out of his voice. “And you just decided the best way to do it would be to take on all the consequences for yourself? That’s not fair to you, Keith.”

Slowly lowered his hands from his hair to cross his arms over his chest instead, and he muttered something under his breath that Hunk couldn’t quite make out. “What was that?” Hunk asked.

“I said, nothing’s ever ‘fair’,” Keith replied. “This isn’t about fairness. If things were gonna be ‘fair’, the Crelxats wouldn’t be upset with us over that monument in the first place, they’d be too busy being grateful to us for saving their asses and they’d realize that that should be much higher priority than a stupid statue. But as is, we can’t leave, we can’t get help from the others, and the Crelxats want blood. It’s not fair, but it’s happening, so all we can do now is get it over with.”

“I know, but - but - ” Hunk sighed and rested his chin on his hand. “I still say you shouldn’t have done it.”

“I know.”

“And I wasn’t that scared.”

“Okay.”

“Are you scared?”

There was a pause before Keith answered, “No.”

Hunk sighed. “You’re a really awful liar, Keith.”

“I know.”

They sat in silence for a long while before Hunk slowly reached through the bars of the cell and took hold of Keith’s hands, twining his fingers into Keith’s and trying not to think about how cold they were. “I’m sorry, man,” he said softly.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Keith mumbled.

“Sure. I’m just gonna go ahead and be sorry anyway, kay?” He gave his hand a squeeze. “Besides the face, have they hurt you?”

“Nah. Bit of shoving around, but that’s all.”

“They been giving you water? Food?”

“Enough, yeah.”

Hunk frowned, making a mental note to set aside some food from the lodging house to fill Keith up the moment he was released. He was just opening his mouth to ask if Keith had any requests - none of the Crelxat food was an exact match to any from Earth or any they’d encountered in space so far, but he could at least do some taste testing and see if he could find something similar to whatever Keith wanted - but he was interrupted by the door at the end of the hall slamming open.

“Time is up,” the guard grunted. “Make your leave.”

Hunk scowled at the guard, but after giving Keith’s hand one final squeeze, he rose to his feet. “I’ll be right there waiting once the penance is done,” he said. “The ore delivery should be finished early tomorrow morning, so once Red’s back up and running we can go straight back to the Castle. Get off this planet for good.”

“That’ll be nice,” Keith said, and he grimaced when the guard knocked his halberd into the doorframe, ordering Hunk to get moving. “I’ll - I’ll see you then. Better get going.”

Reluctantly Hunk complied, shuffling back down the hall of empty cells and giving Keith one last wave goodbye before the door was slammed shut again with a sickening finality.

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

Time moved at a crawl as Hunk waited. He kept himself occupied as best he could, working on Red’s repairs throughout the day, and he managed to convince a guard to let him take Keith’s confiscated armor and bayard off their hands (with the understanding that if he tried any funny business with the weaponry he would be tossed into his own cell before he could so much as blink) to have them ready for Keith when the penance was finished, and he polished the helmet three times over just for something mindless to do.

He stared at the ceiling in his room that night, trying to convince his exhausted body to sleep, but it wasn’t easy. Every time he closed his eyes all he could see was Keith, standing before that same crowd that had been in the plaza, and he was facing his penance, Malvet raising a whip with sadistic glee in her smile.

He always opened his eyes again before it actually made contact.

It took vargas of pacing around the room that night - ignoring the irritated knocking from whoever was staying in the room below his - to finally wear him out enough to get any amount of sleep, and then he was up again, getting the ore loaded onto Yellow in the earliest hours of morning and anxiously watching the planet’s sun creep upward into the sky, the whorling dread in his stomach growing stronger with every inch it rose.

No one came to fetch him or let him know when the penance was starting, but they didn’t have to. He could see for himself when Crelxats started to eagerly emerge from their homes and head off all in the same direction, and he overheard bits and pieces of discussion about whether they thought the twenty gods would be appeased and what they thought of the offering that had been made by the city the night before; Hunk didn’t know what that offering had been, and honestly he could not have cared less, but apparently it had been act one of this show, and Keith’s penance was the finale.

For visibility’s sake Hunk donned his full paladin armor before leaving the lodging house, hopefully for good, and he followed the flow of Crelxats past the building that housed Keith’s cell and even past the plaza featuring the statue, which, judging by the scaffolding that had been set up around the plaza, was currently under repairs. The Crelxats moved down a road veering off to the side and sloping down toward a long, solid wall, where they congregated toward a large arched entryway flanked by two guards.

He started toward the entry, but was stopped by a hand on his arm. He jumped and whipped around to find a stony-faced Crelxat guard, dressed in the same garb as the guards had been in the jail where Keith had been kept. Two other guards were hovering nearby, watching with the same stoic expression.

“If you are intending to view the penance,” the guard said, “You must remain under our watch.”

“What?” said Hunk. “Why?”

“You have made known that you hold close personal connection to the transgressor.” Ire scratched at Hunk’s throat at Keith being referred to as ‘the transgressor’, but he held his tongue and let the guard continue: “It is standard, then, to ensure that you are kept under supervision to prevent attempts at interfering with the penance.”

“Oh. Um, right,” Hunk relented. It made sense, he supposed. Any decent person witnessing their friend being publicly tortured would want to try to put a stop to it. It seemed that even if he hadn’t already promised Keith that he would let the Crelxats go through with their punishment, there wasn’t much he would be able to do under the eye of their guards.

The one who had stopped him nudged him forward as one of the others began leading the way toward the entrance, while the other approached and held out his hand. “No weapons are allowed at the viewing. Hand it over.”

Reluctantly Hunk removed his bayard from where it was holstered at his hip and dropped it into the guard’s hand. The guard nodded curtly and turned to follow the other, turning the bayard in his hand to inspect it as he went, and Hunk was nudged again, a cue to follow.

He trailed behind them, and as they passed through the entryway, he got his first view of where this penance was being held. The space seemed to be some sort of amphitheater, with rows of seats curving in a semicircle, getting lower and lower as they reached the center, where there stood a completely bare platform, high enough that the spectators sitting in the front row would probably have to crane their necks to see what happened on top of it.

Hunk wanted to go toward the front, to be as visible as possible when Keith was brought out, so he would be able to see him in the crowd, know he was there to support him and rush to his side the moment this whole mess was finally over, but the guards instead led him into a row toward the back. As they filed in, Hunk scowled at the Crelxats who were milling around the amphitheater, filling up the rows of seats in front of them. All these people, taking the time out of their lives to come and watch Keith suffer. As though this was some sort of entertainment to them. They wanted blood, they wanted it from Keith, and there was nothing about this whole situation that wasn’t disgusting.

He had to take care to clench his jaw so he wouldn’t wind up just shouting at everyone in the crowd, since that would probably only end with him being forcibly escorted out by the guards, and took his seat obediently. The other Crelxats in the crowd were gradually sitting down as well, taking their time far too casually, and every dobash of waiting felt agonizingly long.

After that wait, though, the crowd finally hushed at the sight of the guards coming through the entrance at the front of the amphitheater behind the stage, and as they did, Hunk wished they could go back to the waiting. Harrowing though it was, it was still better than watching Keith being escorted onto the stage.

His wrists and ankles were still shackled, so his gait was only a shuffle, and the guards at either side of him pushing him forward didn’t seem to be making walking any easier; he tripped on the steps leading onto the stage and, rather than pause to let him regain his balance, the guards grabbed him under the arms and began dragging him before Keith managed to find his footing again. He still wore the leg portion of his underarmor, but he’d been stripped of the top, and his bare torso looked deathly pale in the too-bright sunlight.

He also, as Hunk realized with a surge of fury as Keith shook his hair out of his face, been gagged, a strap of what looked like leather cinched tightly over his mouth and digging into the skin at the corners. Hunk wondered vaguely what he had said to the guards to warrant that addition. Or who he had bitten.

The Crelxats in the amphitheater around him had begun to jeer as Keith was escorted onto the stage, and only stopped when another figure stepped out: Malvet, the wiring of her head blindingly reflecting glints of the sunlight as she raised her hands for quiet.

“We are gathered here,” she began, her voice booming despite Hunk not seeing any sort of microphone or other audio equipment anywhere, “To offer the Twenty Gods of Crelxatain a display of our respect, our reverence, and our compunction. The offender who stands before you now has, in an act of brash disregard for our planet and its citizens - ”

She continued, but Hunk tuned her out, and not just out of anger toward the way she was talking about Keith. His focus had instead been drawn to the guards who had come forward along the stage. Where he had thought there had just been flat floorboards, they opened a hatch, and from beneath the stage they unfolded a bundle of beams that clicked into place as a solitary and stationary pole, with a hooped hook sticking out of it a good six feet up. Keith was pulled forward, and the chain between his wrists was lifted and latched onto the hook, leaving Keith standing with his arms stretched above him, back stretched out and exposed.

So Keith had been right about the flogging, and Hunk pressed his lips together, feeling nausea bubble up in his throat and wondering if he were going to start blowing chunks onto the row of Crelxats in front of him.

He kept his eyes on Keith, trying to meet his gaze, and Keith was looking out to the crowd too. It was hard to be absolutely sure from this distance, but Hunk was pretty sure that Keith spotted him, because his gaze was definitely aimed Hunk’s way, his pale face and wide eyes directed right toward him.

And no matter what Keith said, he was definitely scared.

Unlike in Hunk’s nightmarish visions from the night before, Malvet wasn’t the one to bring out a whip. Instead it was one of the guards, unfurling a length of cord from behind him as Malvet stepped toward the pole, fixing Keith with a withering glower before turning back to address the crowd once more. “To each of the twenty gods he has chosen to desecrate, he shall pay blood in penitence. Firstly, to Taelxot.”

That was all the fanfare given before the crack of the whip rang through the amphitheater, making Hunk jump at its suddenness. It seemed too soon to be starting, he needed more time, more time to emotionally ready himself and for Keith to say his own piece, but here they were. It was happening. Now.

The first lash seemed to have taken Keith off guard too, since he let out a yelp at the contact that was muffled by his gag. The crowd of Crelxats let out applause as the whip struck, and the sound seemed distant to Hunk as he watched Keith, trying to see if he was okay.

“Secondly,” Malvet continued, “To Vokrin.”

Another crack of the whip, another cheer. These names Malvet was saying, Hunk surmised, must have been the names of some of those twenty gods she kept talking about, and they must have been giving Keith one lash for each god that had been disrespected.

Which meant there were going to be twenty lashes in total. Hunk’s eyes widened as the whip dragged on the floor as the guard reeled it back, leaving a red streak on the wooden planks that Hunk could just barely see from where he was sitting.

There was no way he was going to be able to stomach eighteen more of these.

At the third lash, Keith squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, and at the fourth, the whip struck deep enough that Hunk could see blood droplets flying directly from Keith’s back. The crowd was eating it up, getting to their feet as they applauded, and at the fifth lash, Hunk stood too, because that was the only way he could still see over the heads of the cheering Crelxats in front of him.

The lashes kept coming.

Hunk’s hands hovered over the lower half of his face, threatening to move up and cover his eyes, but he resisted the admittedly powerful temptation. He owed Keith this much, at the very, very least. He owed it to Keith to be there and watch, to meet his eyes whenever Keith opened them so that the red paladin would have a face to look toward for support, for a silent message to hang on, just hang on, it will all be over soon.

Besides, closing his eyes now wouldn’t get rid of the image of those blood droplets Hunk had already seen spraying from Keith’s back, so there really was no point. That image would probably stay burned in his mind forever.

Another lash - Malvet was still counting them, but Hunk couldn’t hear her. All the sounds in the amphitheater were starting to blur together in his ears, muddling into loud and angry static as he focused only on Keith. The pain of the flogging must have been getting to be too much even for him, because an agonized shout escaped into his gag this time, much to the delight of the assembled Crelxats. At the next lash, he screamed again, and his eyes flew open, meeting Hunk’s almost immediately.

Hunk’s heart stopped at the sight of the tears gathering there, the sun sparkling off of them, and it started up again, pounding like a drum, when the whip came down again and the tears broke free and began to fall.

The specks of blood staining the platform were growing thicker with every lash. They couldn’t possibly keep this up. They were going to kill him.

On the next lash, the whip’s aim was off, and it landed over Keith’s shoulder. The barb on the tip must have caught on his skin, because it ripped a line of flesh off with it as the guard pulled it back, sending a splash of blood across his chest.

Hunk finally threw up, then, and the cries of delight coming from the Crelxat in front of him turned to ones of disgust as the sick splattered onto his back. Which did nothing to relieve Keith’s pain, but it did give Hunk just the tiniest glimmer of satisfaction before he straightened up again to watch the last of the lashes.

“And to the twentieth God of Crelxat, Skovok!”

The whipped cracked for the final time, the crowd cheered, and Keith was motionless on the stage, all his weight dangling from his wrists, his head bowed and hair covering his eyes so Hunk couldn’t tell whether they were open or closed. The floor at his feet far, far too red.

Hunk could only spot the tiniest bit of movement, just catch the way Keith’s chest shook as he breathed, and he tried to focus only on that as he waited for Malvet to give her stupid closing speech and Hunk could finally take Keith back to the Lions and try to find some way to patch up his back, which had to be a grotesque mess at this points.

“To each of the gods, a due has been paid,” Malvet was saying grandly. “So all that remains is our assurance that the transgressor can never again bring harm to the gods, or to Crelxatain itself. To that end, we offer the last of his life, that they may find solace in its removal and a better purpose for it in the world beyond our own.”

… What?

With great difficulty Hunk pulled his eyes away from Keith to see what was happening on the rest of the stage. All but one guard had moved to the other side, and another hatch, like the one from which they’d pulled the pole, had been opened, something else being unfolded from this one. They locked the pole into place, but this one kept unfolding, into a bracket that projected over the hole the open hatch left in the floor. The hatch was pulled back into place, and one of the guards hooked a loop of wire over the projection.

It took a long moment for Hunk’s brain to catch up to his eyes, for him to realize what he was looking at.

Gallows.

His heart racing, blood pounding he whipped around to face the guard next to him. “What - what is that?!” He jabbed a shaking finger toward the stage, and oh god, the guard who had stayed by Keith was taking him down and starting to drag him across the stage.

“It is a device that will allow penance to be completed,” the guard said, explaining it like he was a teacher giving a classroom lecture. “The wire is placed around the neck of the criminal, and the hatch - ”

“I know what it is!” Hunk yelled. “Why is it here?! Keith paid his penance! He got his punishment already!”

“He paid a blood penance, yes,” the guard said. “Now, they are ensuring that he can never again cause harm to the sacred - ”

“We were never gonna even come to this stupid planet again!” Hunk shouted. He ignored the surrounding Crelxats who were turning to glare at him, a couple snapping at him to be quiet. “They don’t need to ensure it! They - they - they said he’d be returned to me once the penance was done! What happened to that?!”

“He will. To be preserved or memorialized as you and your culture see fit.”

Disbelief had Hunk lost for words for a few seconds, while on the stage, he could see Keith, even in the state he was in, starting to struggle in the guards’ hold. “I don’t want his corpse!” he finally squeaked out. “I - I - oh god, I’ve got to - ” His eyes roved toward the guard holding his bayard.

A hand thumped onto his arm, holding him in place. “Consider this your only warning,” the guard said. “Any attempt to derail the proceedings will result in you joining him.”

Hunk swallowed, his legs feeling close to giving out under him as the loop of wire was wrestled over Keith’s head and around his neck. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be happening. “Please,” he begged, tears pricking at his eyes. “There - there has to be something I can…”

Keith was shouting into his gag, and Malvet was saying something again, raising her voice to drown Keith out. The guard’s grip on Hunk tightened, and he felt dizzy. Keith was going to be hanged right in front of him. Keith shouldn’t even be the one going through this, it should have been Hunk.

Keith was going to die, and it was going to be Hunk’s fault.

There had to be something he could do. He owed it to Keith. Keith had saved him from the Crelxats’ wrath, hadn’t even thought twice about him, and Hunk needed to repay him. He couldn’t let things end this way.

If he were up on the stage right now, in that noose, and Keith were the one having to watch, what would Keith do?

Lance would probably say Keith would ‘punch his problems until they go away’.

It wasn’t much of a plan -

A thunk sounded as the hatch below Keith’s feet was dropped and the wire went taut.

- but it was all he had.

All the fury that had built in him since the moment he had been ushered into the amphitheater flooded into his fist as he whirled on the guard holding him, and it connected with the chin of his helmet. His knuckles immediately throbbed with pain, but there was a satisfying crunch of bone as the guard’s head reeled back, his grip going slack.

Hunk dove for the guard holding his bayard. The guard let out a shout and tried to jump back, but Hunk was not to be deterred, and he bodily tackled him into the next row, the Crelxats there shrieking and scampering out of the way. He clawed his way up the guard’s arm, fighting to pry his fingers off of the bayard, and when he wouldn’t give, he decided he didn’t have the time to fight clean. He hauled himself forward and bit down as hard as he could on the guard’s hand.

The bayard was dropped immediately, and Hunk snatched it up and clambered to his feet. It expanded into its miniturret launcher form as he hefted it up and aimed it toward the stage. Several Crelxats screamed, and his vision swam as he saw Keith through the optic. He was still moving, still jerking in his bonds even as the wire tightened around his neck and his face began turning blue. That meant his neck hadn’t broken when he dropped. He was still alive. There was still a chance.

Although, that chance was getting exponentially smaller with every tick that passed, and Hunk didn’t have time to reach the stage. With his vision hazy and his body shaking and his stomach doing somersaults, it would be insane to try to shoot from here. There was too much chance of hitting Keith. He was going to survive being hanged only to be killed by cannon fire instead.

But it was the only thing he could do.

He fired, praying to anything that was out there and that might be listening that the shot would hit its mark.

It didn’t. It went too high. Hunk’s heart sank, despair flooding him -

Until another shot came from behind him, the projectile this time much larger. This one took out the projection of the gallows that Hunk had been aiming for, dropping Keith’s struggling form to the ground, and burned through half the stage along with it.

He turned around.

Never in his life had he ever been so happy to see the Yellow Lion, hovering just over the amphitheater’s entrance. The buildings behind her were darkened by her enormous shadow, and her eyes blazed down on the crowd that was practically trampling itself to get out of her way.

Yellow had come. She had sensed Keith in danger and -

No, that wasn’t quite it, Hunk realized as he finally noticed Yellow’s presence in his mind, the weight trying to ground Hunk like a heavy blanket, the low rumble of her growl asking if he was okay.

She had sensed Hunk’s distress. That’s why she had come. That’s why she had flown here on her own.

Huh. It seemed Keith wasn’t the only one with an overprotective Lion.

And speaking of…

Hunk’s bayard shrank back down into its dormant form as he raced down the amphitheater steps, shoving panicking Crelxats out of the way and sliding onto his knees as he reached Keith’s crumpled form. The smell of iron from his bloodied back was so strong Hunk could taste it, and he gagged as he rolled him over. Keith’s eyes were closed, his lips gray from lack of air, and Hunk immediately set to fumbling at the wire noose, mumbling reassurances to Keith’s unconscious form as he loosened it.

Right as he pulled it up over Keith’s head, grimacing at the dark bruises it had left on the skin of his neck, the body was yanked aside by the arm, and Hunk looked up to see Malvet, both her hands locked around Keith’s forearm as she tugged at him.

“Get away!” Hunk snarled. “Haven’t you hurt him enough?!”

“He has not completed his penance!” Malvet cried. She swiveled her gaze onto Hunk, and the angry gleam in her eyes was almost manic. “The destruction he caused must be paid in kind! The twenty gods require his life, and we must - ”

Hunk let out a frustrated growl, just about at his wit’s end with Malvet’s gods. In a show of rashness that would make Keith proud, he brought his bayard back up, and it morphed into its energy minigun form as he pointed it right between Malvet’s eyes. “If you even think about hurting Keith one more time, then my gods are gonna need your life in exchange.”

Malvet narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Sure I would. I already took out your monument. I’m on a rampage. I can’t be stopped.”

Her jaw dropped, and her hands shook as her grip on Keith’s arm loosened. “You - it was you who - ”

Hunk was already hauling Keith onto his back and taking off before she could finish the thought, and he raced up the amphitheater steps in leaps to meet Yellow at the top, where she scooped the paladins into her mouth and took flight.

The sound of screams below them was cut off as her jaw shut and Hunk collapsed onto the cockpit floor, rolling Keith off of him as gently as he could before rushing to the controls, taking Yellow around in a wide arc and scanning the city below before he spotted where Red lay, still not quite fixed up to working condition. He dove toward her, and Yellow grabbed the smaller Lion up from the ground around the middle like a mother carrying her cub before rocketing upward, gaining speed until she broke the atmosphere. Then he set her autopilot to the coordinates of the Castle’s landing site and…

It was over. After all that, it was finally over. They were off Crelxatain. They were safe.

They were alive.

Well, Hunk reminded himself as he left the pilot’s seat and made his way back toward Keith’s prone form on the cockpit floor, the worst part was over, at least, but they weren’t in the clear yet. He reached to the overhead storage unit to pull out the emergency medical kit and got onto his knees next to Keith to get a closer look.

It wasn’t a pretty sight. Keith’s back had been slashed to ribbons, the gashes in varying depths with a couple cutting so deep Hunk could swear he could see vertebrae. Some of them had stopped bleeding, most had not, and the sounds of the slowly seeping blood dripping onto the floor of the cockpit rang in Hunk’s head. He’d be able to clean the wounds and get some gauze onto them for now, but the cryopods in the Castle would have to do the bulk of the work.

And his back wasn’t the only spot injured. His ankle was bent in the middle in a way it shouldn’t have been able to bend and was starting to swell; he’d probably landed on it at a bad angle when Yellow had shot down the scaffolding. A trickle of blood dripped from the edge of his mouth where the tight gag was cutting into the skin, and Hunk reached up to start working it free, relieved to hear Keith breathing when he pulled it away, even if the breaths were raspy and strained. Small wonder, considering the purpling bruises covering his neck where the noose had strangled him.

He opened the medical kit, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the extent of Keith’s injuries, and decided to pull out the bottle of disinfectant first. His back was definitely going to need it. He unscrewed the lid and held his breath against the sharp smell before lowering it toward the gashes and pouring the disinfectant in.

It let out a sizzling sound as it spread over the wounds, and Keith’s back arched as he let out a strangled yell, his swollen neck leaving his voice as nothing but a dry rasp. Hunk immediately set the disinfectant down and hurried up toward Keith’s head. “I’m sorry, man,” he said. “I know, I know, it’s gotta hurt like hell, but I have to clean it up, I’m sorry. Hang in there, bud.”

Keith let out another rasping groan, and slowly his eyelids began to peel apart. “Keith?” Hunk whispered. “You awake?”

His back rose and fell in a couple of slow, deep breaths before he finally grunted out, “Sh’ro?”

Wow. Keith may as well have just rammed his fist through Hunk’s chest, grabbed his heart, and wrung it dry. “Uh, no. No, it’s not Shiro. It’s me, it’s Hunk.”

Keith blinked slowly, his eyes working to focus on Hunk’s face, and then: “Hunk? We’re alive?”

Hunk let out a breath. “Yeah, man,” he said, giving Keith a wobbly grin. “We’re alive. We made it out of there. You did great, buddy. Just need to hang in there a little longer before we get back to the Castle.”

“I thought they - ” Keith took a rattling breath, but his voice didn’t sound any less gravelly when he continued, “They decided t’ kill me, di’n’t they.”

Hunk grimaced. “Yeah. They did. But that was a pretty stupid decision, wasn’t it?”

“You stopped th’m,” Keith said. “I saw you. In th’ crowd. You had - y’ had your bay’rd. Before I couldn’t see ‘nymore…”

“Well, I - I tried,” Hunk said. “But it was really Yellow who saved the day, you know. She’s the one who started blasting. All I did was get a little chaos going in the stands and grab you. It was nothing.”

“Nah,” Keith sighed. “It wasn’t noth’ng.”

He let his eyes drift closed, and Hunk pushed his bangs out of his face before scooting back toward the medical kit. “Once we’re in close enough range of the Castle, I’ll radio in and see if anyone’s there to get a pod ready for you. If we’re the first there, well, I’ll do it myself. Coran showed me the basics of how those things work, I can at least get you stabilized before he or Allura comes back and can get it started for the deep healing stuff. But, um, for now I’ve got to get this stuff disinfected and wrapped up. It’s definitely gonna sting.”

“‘S’okay,” Keith grunted. “Go ahead.”

“And Keith?”

“Mm.”

Hunk leaned in close. “Don’t you ever, ever scare me like that again, you got it? You’re no longer allowed to come that close to dying, I forbid it. And if you ever try to jump in and take the blame for my screw-up again, I swear to the Twenty Gods of Crelxatain I’ll bring all the wrath of the Yellow Lion raining down upon you. You hear me? Never again.”

Eyes still closed, Keith gave him a weak attempt at a smile. “We’ll see,” he rasped out.

Hunk sighed. Shiro really should have warned them right from the start how stressful it was to have Keith around. “Good enough,” he said, moving back to focus on the gashes. Keith tensed and let out a couple of whimpers as Hunk dabbed disinfectant into the wounds, but they got through it.

It wasn’t until Hunk was halfway through wrapping Keith’s torso in bandages that he opened his eyes and spoke again. “Hunk?” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Remember, when I said t’ just let them get th’ penance over with? ‘nd not to interfere?”

“Yeah…”

“Thanks for not list’ning to me.”

Hunk let out a loud laugh, more out of the hysteria still left in his system than any humor in Keith’s weak joke, but he still broke out a wide smile as he said, “Any time, buddy.”

“And for… ev’rything else.”

“Hey. You had my back from the start, right? Of course I’m gonna have yours too. That’s what teammates are for, you said it yourself.”

“So now… we’re even?”

“Not even close,” Hunk said, shaking his head. “Not until you get out of that cryopod and eat every bite of the feast I’m going to make for you the moment we get back to the Castle. I’m talking twenty dessert courses and live entertainment by the mice. Then we’ll be even.”

Keith let out a breath of laughter and let his eyes slide closed again. “Deal.”