#We all need a hug

[myth0mani-art]

I think it's adorable, how the main Objektive in TOTK isn't to "Destroy Ganon"

It's literally to "Find Zelda"

And yet, Nintendo didn't even let our Boi and his Princess share a hug... :(

[oddball08]

Metal Chairs and Glass Windows | Konig

A mission gone wrong. That's what he would call it later when they were both found. They wouldn’t say a word to anyone about it. Some things can't be erased, no matter what you do. This is extremely violent and disgusting and full of angst. I mean there is some truly disgusting torture in this. I recommend that viewers are +18. If you are triggered easily, please leave. Ultimately, I can't control your actions but know that I've warned you and cannot be held accountable if you choose to read this.

WARNING R@pe, murder, torture, Su!cide, just some really triggering stuff WARNING

Dimly lit damp hallways seemingly stretched on forever as two bodies were dragged from a heavily secured truck and into the building, descending steps covered in mold and mildew. Neither responded as their gear dragged and scraped across the floor, weapons slowly being discarded and thrown on the ground for someone to later pick up. 

A mission gone wrong. That's what he would call it later when they were found. They wouldn’t say a word to anyone about it. 

König slowly woke up after an unknown amount of time, eyes adjusting to the darkness as he stayed still, knowing he was in danger due to the new settings and cuffs tied tightly around his wrists and ankles– in a different circumstance he would deem this kinky and laugh it off– but this time was different. 

He could feel the presence in the room with him, ominously waiting for him to make a move, knowing that the deadly man was currently defenseless. König knew a few things were very wrong, first off being that this was supposed to be an easy in-and-out mission, just to make sure that a camp they had already taken down was empty. It seemed as though it was in fact not empty; second being he had no idea where they were. His partner, his friend, his longtime comrade who was so close to being discharged. Just two more weeks. They weren’t even supposed to be going on this mission, but agreed on the terms that it would be the last mission they did with him. 

Everything suddenly got so messed up, they were doing fine, walking along the dirt path, almost finished with their round when König’s partner had screamed at them to get down as bullets flew, everything went black, then he was in a chair. 

Anxiety coursed through König, tensing his muscles as he tried to keep his body slack and breathing even. He had years of military training backing him up, so did his partner, they would be okay. He had to hope that they were okay. 

"Welcome back,” The presence circled around König until he was in front of him, revealing a tall man head to toe in black, weapons strapped to him, many more in places he couldn’t see König knew. “I’m glad to see you woke up. I thought for a while my guys had messed up and gave you the wrong dosage.” He smiled at the words, and it made something disgusting curl up into König’s stomach, curling around his lungs and squeezing them just tight enough for him to know it was a looming panic attack.

“Where am I?” König’s nostrils flared as he looked up, finally meeting the eyes of his capture; heart clenching more at the sight of the mask they usually wear laying on his face, the bottom half broken, and blood smeared across the rough cracks. “Where are they.”

“You don’t really think I’m going to tell you that do you? Although, I will say that your little friend is in the room across the hall. You’ll be joining them soon, don't you worry. ” The words didn’t feel reassuring.

“I brought you here for a very specific reason, mostly because I’m a petty bitch, but also because your organization fucked up my entire plan. Millions would be gone; I would have won . Instead, your team had to come and fuck everything up. Kill us, steal from us. We plan to take it back tenfold.”

He pauses as a loud bang is heard, echoing through the room as the light flickers a few times. When the man looks back at König, his smile is more tense than it was before, and König feels a brief flicker of hope before the screaming starts.

He knows those screams; he had heard those screams only two times before. Once when his partner had been holding the new recruit, dead in their arms, only eighteen. And the second when they had been shot in the shoulder, shattering their shoulder blade.

König’s blood runs cold, adrenaline rushing through his veins as a thin veil of sweat covers his skin, making the fabric of his mask stuffy. 

“It seems my comrade decided to start without me. Pity really.” The man goes behind König once more, scraping something metal against the cement floor and raises it above his head. “Night night.” 

König awakes once more with a start, blistering pain pounding in his head as a migraine begins to form. “Welcome back sleeping beauty.” The man's voice is cheerful, and he now has a bottle of beer in his hand as he relaxes back against the chair he’s sitting in. “Woke up right in time for the show.” He grins maliciously and points his beer forwards to gesture for König to look over at the glass window they were sitting in front of.

König’s breath caught and the pain in his chest came back at the sight of his partner sitting naked on the metal chair, legs spread as liquid slowly dripped down their somewhat murky legs and the twisted legs of the chair.

Their face was knocked back as they laid unconscious, blood slowly oozing out of their calf half, mixing with the milky substance and pooling around the metal of the cuffs on their ankles and down onto the cement floor.

König felt like vomiting, disgusted at the sight. Who would do this to someone? Had they been awake for it all? 

Another man stepped into the room, grinning over at the glass as he made a circle with his hands, rutting his hips forward towards the glass to indicate what he was about it do. 

“No!” König yelled, louder than he’s ever remembered yelling as he began fighting against the cuffs on the chair, just noticing the rope tied around his waist, securing him from moving too much.

“Scream as loud as you want,” The man sitting next to him said, having waited until König had stopped his screaming to speak, lifting the beer to take a swig of it. “They can’t hear ya’.”

König really thought he was going to vomit this time as the man in the room unbuckled his jeans, letting them fall to the ground before he turned the chair sideways; giving the two men outside of the room the perfect side profile of the events that were about to occur. The man slapped his partner's cheek a few times before shrugging and simply shoving two fingers inside their mouth, swirling it around before holding it open and shoving his cock in, groaning at the feeling as he knocked his head back. 

He wasted no time in quickly thrusting, chasing his own high, not caring whether or not they woke up to find their mouth being molested. It’s a few more minutes of König painfully watching as his partner is degraded, completely unaware of it all as they’re dead to the world, chair creaking as the man speeds up before gripping onto his partner's hair tightly, tugging as he stops his hips. He pulls out, looking down at them with a sneer before spitting in their mouth, shoving their head down as much as it would allow to let the cum and spit drop out, preventing them from choking. 

The man pulls up his pants before turning to the window, giving a mocking bow, “Left ‘em alive, as you asked, Sir.” The statement is more condescending than anything as he exits the room, leaving behind König’s partner, head lulled forward as liquid drips down their chin and onto their bare chest. 

“Wasn’t that a good show?” The man sitting next to König slaps his hand onto his knee, giving a cheer for the disgusting events that just occurred.

“You’re sick ,” König growls, fists clenching so hard against the chair he was in that he could feel his short fingernails begin to break.

“Ah uh,” The man puts a finger up and tsk’s, “Not sick, purely angry. Revenge is rather sweet, wouldn't you say?” 

“I don’t sugar.” König counters, and the man simply smiles gleefully at the remark.

“And I have a sweet tooth, crazy that. Now watch the rest of the show.” 

Another man enters this time, different from the last. He smiles up at the window, giving a salute. He turns around and pulls out a rolling table with needles on it and sends a quick smile towards the mirror once more before putting on silicone medical gloves. He grabs a syringe, tapping it a few times before placing it onto König’s partner's arm, distributing it quickly before grabbing another one. 

“Flumazenil and Naloxone,” The man next to König confirms, “Man's best friend let me tell ya’.”

The man takes off his gloves and puts the table back into the corner of the room where he had grabbed it from and left the room. Leaving a tense silence, anguish resting in the air as the seconds ticked by. 

Eventually, König could see their body twitch on the other side of the window, then slowly their head lifted up to reveal tear filled eyes. “Fuck.” The swore, spitting onto the ground before knocking their head back against the back of the metal chair, seemingly not caring about the loud bang emanating from it. 

Their chest began to heave as a woman entered the room this time, a mask covering the bottom half of her face. She stood tall and regal, afro pulled up into perfection, making her look innocent if it weren’t for the knife she held in her hand. 

“Ello las,” She greeted in a low Scottish drawl, smiling as she made her way over to her target. “‘Ow ‘ave the boys been treatin’ ya’?” She looked down at their still open legs and tsk’ed, slowly circling them with the dull side of the knife to their neck. König could see the anxiety in their eyes as they tried to breath as shallowly as possible, knowing it was the dull side of the knife but still not wanting to be cut by the woman in front of them.

A small trail of blood begins trailing down their collarbone as the woman cuts, before sliding back to look at her work. “Real beauty, shame to see it go ta’ waste. Might just carve ma’ name into ya’. You’d like that, yeah?” 

König clenches his teeth at the sound of their whispers, desperate pleas to please stop leaving their mouth like a prayer. The woman smiles at this and cups their cheek, wiping away the tears that were now openly falling down their cheeks. 

“Don’t cry love, only gonna hurt a lil’.” She smiles a twisted smile before getting on her knees, going in between their legs to scoot as close to them as possible, making a quick Knick at the bottom of their chest, center of the ribcage, and one at the lower stomach, right above the faint happy trail. 

König sees them hiss out at the feeling before they open their mouth in a silent scream as her knife cuts, about a centimeter if König had to guess, a long line drawn out diagonally, “K,” She holds the letter as she continues to drag the other two lines across before pulling back slightly and laughing at the sight. 

She continues on slowly, singing each letter she carves until a full name is spelled. Seven letters in total, over twenty minutes of excruciating pain before the woman pulls back, standing back onto her heels. Kendall.

“Beautiful.” She drags a finger across their stomach, digging a nail in a little before bringing it up to the light, looking pleased at the blood coating her finger. “Aye boss? Mind if I do somethin’ real quick?” 

“Sure,” The man sitting next to König nods, and the woman smiles, rocking onto her heels, “Just don’t kill them.” 

She shrugs, a playful smile on her face. “It probably won’t. ‘Least not for a while.” 

König’s partner has gone back to sobbing, eyes squeezed shut as their legs shake, whimpers leaving their mouth every few seconds as the knife slowly trails up their legs. 

They don’t have any idea what’s going on, so far gone at this point to comprehend anything behind the pain, but they know it's bad. 

The woman plunges the small knife up the hole between the crevice of their thighs, her manic laughing mixing with their screams of anguish, voice breaking as they squeeze their eyes shut and nod their head back and forth, legs violently shaking. 

König squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he could block the noise out as he turns his head to the side, not willing to see his partner in such pain. The man sitting next to him grips his chin roughly, jerking it back so Konig is face right towards the window. “Open your eyes now or I order her to kill them.” The man whispers into König’s ear, making the male's eyes fly open. 

Years of military training couldn’t prepare him for the pain of seeing this, his mental walls tumbling down as the first tear broke the dam for the rest to fall down, not making a sound as his partner continued to scream, screaming at the woman in front of then to stop, begging for mercy. 

She stands, ripping the knife out of their hole and placing a quick, mocking kiss to their cheek before skipping out of the room, appearing at the doorway next to the room König and the man were currently sitting in, a smile still plastered on her face. “So, he’s the lucky one, aye?” 

“Indeed.” The man next to him nods, standing from his spot with a groan, stretching his hands above his head. “Seems to have messed him up. Hasn’t talked shit in a good hour or so.” He jerked his head over to where König sat staring blankly at his partner, who was currently still sobbing, whole body shaking, thankfully their crying was beginning to quiet. 

“Imma go in with her next, watch him, ‘kay?” The man doesn’t wait for a response as he grabs the gun from the table next to where König sat. König hadn’t even noticed that was there, to preoccupied with watching his partner endure the endless torture that they had not been prepared for in training. 

The woman glanced over König, scanning his form before taking a few quick strides over to him and plopping herself onto his lap. “That was one, innit?” She places her head on König’s shoulder, ripping the mask off his face. König feels bare without it, the thought of someone seeing him without it on would normally send his nerves through the roof, but all he could do at the moment was blankly stare at where is partner now sat silently in the chair, chest rising shallowly their head dropped down to their chest.

“Ya’ a pretty one, aren’t ya’?” She runs a finger down his cheek, “Wonder what I could do with ya’ before ‘e finishes with ‘er.” König closes his eyes as he sees the man who had been sitting next to him for hours enter the room, malice in his eyes with a cheerful look on his face.

“How are you faring?” The man asks, using the gun to tilt their head up. “This is what you get for stealing.” 

“I didn’t take anything.” They whimper, “I’m not a thief.” 

The man's face curls up in disgust as he raises the gun, shooting their shoulder with no hesitation. The same shoulder König remembers them screaming about before. 

They don’t scream this time.

An unknown amount of time later, König sat slack against the chair, eyes blinking slowly as the woman giggled maniacally on his lap, his pants pulled back to his knees as he stared at his partner, eyes glazed over as he looked over the two new shots, a large pile of blood pooling on the ground.

They weren’t making any noises this time outside of small whimpers, barely lifting their head up to breath anymore.

“HANDS IN THE AIR!” König recognizes Price’s voice yell into the room, his unit trailing in behind him before he gestures to Ghost and Soap to handle the woman and König while he and a few others deal with the man in the room, currently oblivious to what was happening. 

“Oh no,” The woman pouts, “I guess our time is over then, huh?” She lifts her hands up, and Soap promptly slaps the knife out of the woman's hands, cuffing her as Ghost pats König’s cheek harshly. 

“König,” He says, and the sound echoes within König’s ears. ��König, pay attention to me. Are you hurt?” König thinks he manages to shake his head, because Ghost’s eyes shine with worry as he lifts König’s large body up and carried him out of there. 

König winces as he’s met with a harsh light of a sunrise. 

A new day.

König can hear Price and Ghost’s hushed whispers from outside his hospital room, and he knows what happened. He knows they couldn’t have made it from the looks of how much blood they lost. 

He felt so fucking pathetic. If he had just listened to their warning sooner, noticed the sniper sooner, they wouldn’t be in this situation at all.

Their whispers stop and Ghosts enters his room, silently clicking the door shut behind him. “How are you doing?” He questions. König doesn’t speak, he hasn’t spoken to anyone in the four days he’s been lying in this hospital bed. He’s so tired.

The nurses took away his TV remote when he had turned it up so loud it was blaring on the floors above and below him, hoping if he got it loud enough he would be able to block out the sounds of their screaming and her laughter. 

Ghost sighs, having expected König to be unresponsive. “They’re not dead…in surgery actually. We don’t know much as of yet. But I know that it’s going to be a long one. Longer than anyone you or I have had to endure.” 

König feels a tear fall. He hates himself for it, he hates that he's showing this much weakness. He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be deadly. He was supposed to protect them. 

Ghost places a firm hand on König’s shoulder, squeezing lightly before exiting the room, his arm reaching up to hug around Soap’s shoulder, leaning his head to the side to give a slight reassuring bonk before he closes the door, blocking König out from the world once more.

“We gather here today to mourn the loss of a soldier, a friend, a family member, a partner. They were so much, fighting until the very end.” The old man says, the light shining down on his holy white robes seemed mocking to König, who stood at the back of the crowd, standing with Ghost on one side and Soap on the other. “They will be missed. Know that they have moved onto a better place, lifted higher above, and are no longer in pain.” He said a quick prayer before placing a white rose on the flag covered coffin. 

The others followed behind one by one, until König stood at the front of the line, looking directly into the photo of them smiling, the photo being only from a few months ago, arms over the shoulders of their closest friends. König’s own smile mocks him as he stares. 

Ghost gently urges him forward and König snaps his sight back onto the coffin, now covered in white roses. He clenches his jaw and swallows, willing the tears back.

It seemed to König that all he did nowadays was cry. People believed that he was so unstable that they made him go on mandatory leave. Ghost and Soap heading over with meals at least twice a week, forcing König to eat something and shower. 

Price was forcing him to go to therapy, stating he wouldn’t allow him back if he didn’t. König didn’t see why it would help, all his therapist did was yap the whole time while he stayed silent, counting down the minutes until the session was over. 

König placed the rose on top of their coffin, making their death somehow feel more final than it was before, despite knowing that he had watched the escalation of it happening right before his eyes. 

He turned away from the grave and walked away, not being able to bare the sight of the grave going down.

_______________________________________

Five months later he himself was brought down. The fresh gravestone with his name on it right next to theirs.

just wanted to point out if anyone comes at me for this being bland this was personally triggering for me while writing this so like shut up?

[thaitoz]

The subscorp shippers right now

[melodiousoblivionao3]

Today has been a DAY in woso you guys

[thatslytherinqueen]

Kinddaaaa want Seb to be real just to give him a big ole hug and hold him for hours and never let goooo.....

Kinda need a hug myself right nowwww 😭😪🐍💚✨️✨️

[lepisaturn]

Scream little gay boy, show 'em what you got 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️

i dont think this is as funny without the tiktok audio but i love mr martin k(nife) blackwood with all my heart so im posting this here anyways. look at him.

[badsongpetey]

Keith's back - no way Lance didn't get his hug

[sojournertales]

Trust God and do the best you can with what you have.

God doesn’t make mistakes.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Laios's three Boy Best Friends. And yes, they hate him.

[isjasz]

[Day 174]

You aren't alone

In these trying times I decided to not do angst tdy actually we need some fluff

They get hugs🫂

[porcelian]

FURRY NEW BEGINNINGS

PAIRING : jason todd ✗ gn!reader.

SYNOPSIS : In which the cat distribution system catches up to you and Jason.

WARNINGS : no serious warnings, just alot of fluff and a short lived (or not) rivalry between the cat and jaybeans.

WORD COUNT : 1k.

NOTES : switching up the theme a bit, can't always find those pretty headers. wE NEED A NAME FOR THE CAT!!!

navigation ; masterlist.

The first time he saw the cat, Jason was returning home from patrol. The rain was pouring down in streets, and he hurried through the storm, eager to get back to you as quickly as possible. The weather made everything difficult—the buildings blurred together, neon signs became unreadable, and the sounds of the city were muffled through his helmet.

But despite the downpour, he didn't miss the small spot of light orange in the corner of his eye. It stood out against the dark, murky colors of the alley it was huddled in. Nestled in a small, soggy cardboard box between two trash bags, something shifted.

What's that?

Jason knew he needed to get home. He was freezing and bone-tired, but his curiosity got the better of him.

What's the worst that could happen?

Turns out, the worst that could happen is making a new, vicious enemy out of a stray cat.

Jason landed swiftly in the dark alley, the shadows swallowing up what little light there was. He approached the cardboard box cautiously and gently lifted the lid, unsure of what he might find inside.

The first thing that caught his attention was a pair of greenish-brown eyes staring back at him, followed by the sight of ginger-striped fur. The creature let out a small, plaintive mewl.

Oh, it’s a cat.

In the box sat a big, angry orange tabby. A very angry orange tabby, actually. The cat gave him a fixed, piercing stare, its fur and tail puffing up as it let out a throaty, warning meow.

Jason instinctively raised his hands, palms open, to show he meant no harm, but it was too late—the cat swiped at him with a paw, claws fully extended!

"Alright, I got the hint! No need for violence, little guy. Well—not so little. I mean, just look at you." Jason chuckled softly, trying to diffuse the tension.

The cat's ears swiveled backward and flattened against its head, its body puffing up even more as it attempted to make itself look bigger, more intimidating.

"Okay, okay. I’ll leave you to... whatever you’re doing."

*****

The second time he saw the cat was when he was with you, just returning from a grocery run.

"Who even says that to a worker? It's not like they set the prices," you huffed, recounting an incident at the 7/11 you both had just visited. An old lady had been loudly complaining about the cost of a few products, taking it out on the poor cashier behind the counter.

"I know, baby, but you put her in her place." Jason wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. "So, don't worry about it anymore."

"You're right, it's just—" Jason’s ear tuned out your next words as a familiar spot of light orange caught his eye. A pair of greenish-brown eyes glared at him menacingly.

No way... it can't be the same cat...

"Honey? Jay? What's wrong?" you asked, turning to him, trying to catch his attention.

"Huh? Oh, yeah? Sorry," Jason replied, snapping back to reality with a smile. "Something just caught my eye." But when he turned to look again, the cat was already gone.

Annoying little bastard...

"What did?" you inquired, glancing around to spot whatever had distracted him.

"An orange tabby cat that I’ve apparently started a rivalry with." Jason deadpanned.

"You started a what with a what..?" you stammered, clearly confused by his response. But Jason just grabbed your hand and quickly led you away.

*****

The third time he saw the cat was in his apartment. In his goddamn home.

Jason dropped the bag of snacks he’d just bought from the corner shop out of sheer shock. How did the cat find him? Had it followed him? Was this how it spotted him last time near the grocery store? What was this cat’s plan?

Just then, you rounded the corner, emerging from the kitchen with a small bowl of wet cat food in your hands.

Your face lit up when you saw him. "Welcome back!"

"Hi, baby. Who’s this?" Jason pointed to the cat, now holding its tail high with a slight curl at the top. The cat purred softly as it rubbed its head against Jason’s boot.

"Awh! Look, he likes you!" You beamed, your face lighting up with a smile. "Is this the tabby you were talking about? I can’t imagine him being evil at all, isn’t that right?" You squealed with delight, setting the bowl down near the cat.

The cat slowly blinked at you before cautiously approaching the bowl and taking a tentative bite of the food.

Jason tried to ask how the cat got in, where you found it, and why you let it in, but you shushed him.

"Did you just shush me?" he muttered in disbelief, half-laughing.

"I think it’s fate!" you exclaimed. "You found him, he found you, and now he’s here! He belongs with us. Please, Jay, can we keep him?"

Now that was something he never thought he’d hear. Usually, it was Damian asking Bruce to keep some random animal he’d found—not as a pet, of course. Oh no, not at all.

Jason stared at the tabby for a few moments, then at you, with your big smile and pleading eyes staring back at him.

Crap, this is hard. No wonder Bruce never says no to whatever Damian drags into the house. Jason still remembers the cow...

"...Fine."

"Yay!" You celebrated with a little hop.

"How did it even find us?" Jason eyed the cat suspiciously.

"I’m not sure. But you’ve got to get used to him. I think he likes you!" you said as the cat wobbled back over and rubbed its head against Jason’s boot again. "See? Isn’t he adorable?"

Jason sighed softly, then gave you both a small, reluctant smile. "Yeah, he’s a little bit cute, I guess."

"Oh, I almost forgot! We need to name him."

Jason grumbled under his breath. This was going to be a long week—but maybe, just maybe, it might be a tad bit happier than the previous ones.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[somegrumpynerd]

I like the idea that Cross realised Killer was touchstarved (he didn't have the words for it but he noticed how much Killer would settle down from it) and started giving him very small basic affection. Pat on the back, hand on the shoulder, maybe a quick friendly hug, all things he probably learned through royal guard training and thinks of as normal friend/coworker stuff.

But as they both got more comfortable in the routine of it, Killer started instigating touches and he was not shy about it (like not just leaning into Cross's side during movie night, he looks like he's trying to get into Cross's jacket with him)

And that this more intense affection made Cross realise he might also be just a little bit touchstarved

Bonus:

[chitinleg]

got him off-balance!

[izzystizzys]

TW: discussion of something approximating suicidal tendencies but with the usual crack programming of this blog

“Ah, High General Windu”, says Fox, pleasantly. “So we meet again.”

High General Windu raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him, Fox thinks, though it’s getting hard to tell with all the blood rushing to his head. “If I let you go, will you try to throw yourself out of another window?”

Fox makes a vague shrugging motion - or tries to, anyways. It’s hard to tell where any of his limbs are going, hanging upside down in the air as he is. “I am willing to discuss terms.” A bridge will do just fine.

Impossibly, the High General’s eyebrows climb even further up his forehead. “A compromise, then, esteemed Commander.” And so, he righths Fox the head way up in the air, but leaves him floating just above the ground, at which point several painted shells come skidding around the corner followed by billowing robes and screeches.

“WHAT”, says Kote, calmly, “THE BANTHA-KARKED, FORCE-LOVING KRIFF, FOX.”

“You’ll short out your helmet mic”, Fox advises him, sagely. Fondly, he thinks back to decimating his own on only his second time in the newly-christened official Coruscant Guard Scream Closet. He’d just received the comm about the Zillo Beast being transported to 000, and made sure to take his bucket off thereafter to improve the quality of his closet time.

High General Windu’s face does something complicated between sympathy and constipation.

Because the Galaxy doesn’t hate Fox enough already and Cody wasn’t enough on his own, Wolffe elbows his way through their batch to plant himself in front of him, shoulders squared and shaking with repressed rage. “If you try that again, dickhead”, he begins, in a low growl that quite frankly sounds more cringe that intimidating, “I’m going to resurrect you and then kill you again.”

“Ah, Wolffe”, Plo Koon says, in his deep, shivery timbre, “Remember our conversations about effective conflict resolution and communication of needs?”

Wolffe’s eyes narrow at Fox, because all non-Guard are sweet summer children who walk around buckets off on 000 like absolute lunatics. Fox prays they never have to find out why that’s a bad idea. “I feel”, his ori’vod presses out between clenched teeth, “that if you make me watch you throw yourself out of another window, I’m going to jump after you and strangle you on the way down, you little bitch.”

“That’s fair”, says Fox, and watches High General Kenobi bury his face in his hands. Wolffe twitches in place and makes an aborted groaning noise, the hypocrite.

“Excuse me, High Marshall Commander Fox, but I fail to see what’s so dire about this situation that the Jedi High Council and your brothers cannot help you solve”, says Windu, the only sane one left on this Force-forsaken bloated corpse of a planet. Behind the gaggle of Jedi and ori’vode already gathered in front of Fox, the rest of them come veering around the corner in a commotion that’s quite frankly embarrassing. High General Yoda is mounted on Skywalker’s back like he’s a race-Eopie, which is Fox’ only consolation.

He got up this morning at 0300, bleary-eyed and with a pounding headache as always, and all was right in the world. And then Fox got called into the Jedi High Council’s chambers and was ceremoniously informed that in the wake of Chancellor Palpatine’s unfortunate demise (hah), and through the emergency state of the Senate, as well as several invented promotions foisted on Fox to make the delegation of any and all paperwork less shady, he was now next in the chain of command and-

Well, Fox is the acting Chancellor, in short.

Haha, he had said, and been meet with several seconds of silence, until it got both awkward and exceedingly painful. Wait, he’d said. You’re kriffing serious.

Kriffing serious, we are, had said High General Yoda, and thus Fox launched himself out the first best window with a maniacal cackle of, you’ll have to catch me first!

And catch him, High General Windu sure did.

“The will of the Force this is”, Yoda interrupts Fox’ train of thought. He scans him thoughtfully from beneath his wizened brow, and hems to himself. “Shake things up, this will. Determine the fate of the Galaxy, this shall. A feeling, I have, that a good Chancellor you will make. A better one, hmmm.”

“That’d be high praise, if not for the fact that a dead lemming would make for a better Chancellor than the last one”, says Fox, drawing and indignant gasp from Skywalker. He doesn’t bother with either that or the green goblin’s cackle, lost in the deep sense of resignation that settles over his shoulders like a suffocating blanket.

“Alright, then, get me Thorn on the comm. As my first act in office, I’m firing all the Jedi. No offense, but you’re kind of a disaster. Then, someone get me to the Chancellor’s office, I’m calling Dooku to let him know the war’s off. And please get me Judicial, they’ll be up all night working on my datafolders - I’m having the Senate arrested.”

“Who - is - arresting - “, Bly pants, hands on his knees from where he’s just come sprinting around the corner with his Jedi.

Underneath his bucket, Fox smiles a smile that’s all teeth. “The Senate”, he says, sweetly, wondering if he’s just imagined the shiver that’s gone through the room. “I’m suing the Senate, and taking them all into temporary custody for abuse of sentient rights.”

[corpusdiem-seizethedead]

*Angel and Husk taking Nuggets for a walk, minding their business*

Some rando: Slut!

Angel: *stops*

Angel: Hold my pig-

Husk: Kick his ass, baby. I got your pig-

[mistress-light]

Final Fantasy XVI - PC • (dev. Square Enix)