#cw knife violence

[whump-card]

Forged Divinity Chapter 2: Phineas Kills Some Bandits

1292 words

CW: institutionalized slavery, religious themes, gun violence, knife violence, murder, noncon kiss

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~~~

Exodus 21:24

Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot.

~~~

“If you were going to steal me anyway, why not do it outright?”

The sun was rising, filtering through the dense trees and a smattering of clouds, and with it came the Iowan’s confidence. Phineas and Leannan had been walking for about half an hour before Leannan started asking questions.

“You could have shot the merchant as soon as you saw me, couldn’t you?”

Finally losing patience, Phineas stopped and turned to look at Leannan.

“I don’t have to explain shit to you.”

Leannan shook his head, looking suitably cowed.

“Of course not, Phineas. I’m sorry, Phineas.”

Phineas narrowed their eyes, considering.

“Iowans are sworn to secrecy, right?”

Leannan nodded eagerly.

“It’s a sacred vow. We cannot share any secrets that anyone tells us.”

“What happens if you do?”

“God happens,” Leannan said simply, “He brings down divine retribution.”

Phineas turned their head away to roll their eyes. Unlike most people, they didn’t believe in God, and they were skeptical of the reasons behind the Great Fall, the executions, the burnings. But if it made the Iowan more obedient, they weren’t about to disparage his faith. They’d play along.

“Aright,” Phineas rolled their shoulders, “I didn’t shoot her with my gun because I carry a bigass gun everywhere. Too obvious. I left someone else’s calling card. Someone who deserves some trouble.”

“Why carry a gun if you can never use it?”

“Did I say that? I don’t think I fuckin’ said that.”

“Yes, Phineas, sorry, Phineas.”

“Shut up and walk.” Phineas picked up the pace again, and Leannan was left with no choice but to follow.

~~~

Phineas halted when they reached the edge of an ancient superhighway. It stretched out, wide and cracked, scattered with weeds and small, struggling trees. To their right it extended southward, and but to the left it was interrupted by a hulking mass spanning its width.

“What’s that?” Leannan breathed, with genuine curiosity.

“The Dead Blockade,” Phineas explained, “It was a border, a long time ago.”

Once just a building accompanied by covered lanes, the checkpoint had been added on to over the years – reinforcements of sheet metal, tanks, spiked barriers and cinderblock walls. It was all being eaten away by the elements now, and looked grainy and ragged, overgrown with kudzu.

“It’s no man’s land now,” Phineas continued, “It doesn’t guard anything – but sometimes bandits camp it out and try to extract a toll.”

Phineas took off their rifle and backpack, crouching down and unfolding the gun’s bipod legs. They set it down aimed towards the blockade, getting down on their stomach and putting their eye to the little telescope that rode atop the weapon.

Silence stretched, and Leannan shifted nervously from foot to foot. Then Phineas finally spoke.

“Jes, I see the fuckers,” they said, “Get down and cover your ears.” They retrieved a pair of protective headphones from their backpack and put them on.

Leannan hunkered down, pressing his hands over his ears. He had never seen a gun in action before, much less one being prepared to shoot. He watched as Phineas performed near-ritualistic actions, sliding levers and attaching pieces from the side pockets of their backpack before finally settling again onto their stomach, their eye to the sights.

For much longer than Leannan was comfortable with, nothing happened. Phineas barely moved a muscle.

When the gun did go off, even with his ears covered, it was one of the loudest things Leannan had ever heard. It sent a shock down to his core, and he couldn’t help but tremble. Phineas, on the other hand, remained as cool as a cucumber; they moved a lever up, back, then forward and down; a moment later, they fired again.

Phineas fired four shots total, each one making Leannan nearly jump out of his skin. After the fourth shot Phineas sat still for a long time, each second that ticked by making Leannan’s anticipation of the next shot worse. But a fifth shot never came, and eventually Phineas sat up from the ground and began performing their weapon’s ritual in reverse.

“You got them all?” Leannan asked as soon as Phineas took their headphones off.

“As far as I can tell,” Phineas replied, hoisting their backpack and rifle onto their shoulders, “Still need to be careful.”

The two of them approached the Dead Blockade, eyes darting to every shadow, every vine that rustled in the wind.

“Stay close to me,” Phineas ordered, drawing a large knife from their belt as they moved into a narrow passage through the barrier. Phineas emerged from the other side and walked a few steps, detecting nothing.

“I think…”

“Drop your weapons!” someone screeched. Leannan cried out.

Phineas spun to see a scruffy bandit standing behind Leannan, one hand gripping the Iowan’s curls and the other holding a knifepoint to the side of his throat. Leannan was a picture of terror, his raised hands trembling and his throat bobbing.

Phineas sighed. If it were them, if they’d been alone, they would have twisted out of the bandit’s grasp and dispatched them already. But now they had this… thing tagging along, making everything complicated. It had better be worth the payout.

“What do you want, bandito?”

“You killed my friends!” the bandit shouted, swinging the knife out briefly to point at Phineas, scraping Leannan’s neck in the process, “Monster!”

“Jes, jes, what do you want?” Phineas asked impatiently.

“I want – I want…” The bandit’s eyes darted around wildly before settling on the bead of blood building on Leannan’s neck. “The fuck?”

It was not the expected bright crimson, but instead a dark maroon. The bandit pulled Leannan’s head down to the side to expose the injury better.

“Phineas…” Leannan whimpered.

“Holy shit,” the bandit breathed, “You’re one of those magic whores. Holy shit!” His eyes snapped back up to Phineas. “You just start walking! Start walking, and keep walking! Holy shit…” Unable to resist, he turned his attention back to Leannan, licking a long line up the side of the Iowan’s bloody neck.

Phineas threw their knife.

Leannan let out a short scream as the knife thunked into the eye socket of the bandit. The bandit’s own knife dropped to the ground as he released it and Leannan’s hair, his hands groping his face as he stumbled backwards one, two steps before collapsing onto the cracked pavement.

Leannan spun to watch, pressing one hand to his mouth and crossing himself with the other. Once the bandit was still, he turned on Phineas.

“You could have hit me, asshole!”

Phineas smirked.

“But I didn’t, did I.”

Leannan sputtered as Phineas walked over and pulled their knife out of the bandit’s head, wiping the blade on the corpse’s shirt.

“I bet these guys have sleeping bags you can take,” they said, “Let’s find their camp.”

“I don’t want someone else’s dirty old sleeping bag!” Leannan raised his voice, finally snapping, “I’m not made to live like this! I’m not made to rough it in the wilderness! You need to sell me to someone with an actual goddamn house!”

“Oh, believe me, that’s the plan.” Phineas moved in close to Leannan, catching his jaw before he could move away. They lifted his chin, inspecting the scrape.

“You should clean that. Who knows where that guy’s been.”

“I’m immune to most diseases and infections, remember?” Leannan grumbled.

“Handy, that.” Phineas’ grip became bruisingly tight, and they leaned in and kissed Leannan on the mouth. Leannan made a small noise, but didn’t push them away. When Phineas released him and stepped back, he stared at them questioningly.

“I like you better when you’re feisty,” Phineas explained, “And what can I say?” they sheathed their knife and spread their hands wide with a crooked smile, “Killing people turns me on.”

~~~

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Taglist: @angst-after-dark, @sunshiline-writes, @flowersarefreetherapy, @thecyrulik

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist!

[elemmacil]

WIP Wednesday’s word is “deliver.” From the next chapter of “if you’re looking for a sign: this is it”. Which will be updated by the end of this month, gosh darn it.

[someonehasgiventheratsapen]

^_^ yosano <3<3<3<3

[dead-air-radio]

Men who are cut up <33

[gincat]

uh? ...taking things slow?... what do you mean i can't tie you up and make you stay in my basement as my little dog? ... oh ok... i get it... so no stalking, kidnapping or violence...

wait not even a lil bit??? ^^''

[cruucigerglobus]

testing the limits

[dragon-in-a-fez]

hey y'all wanna take some psychic damage with me? currently thinking about the time my ex tried to argue that threatening me with a knife was valid autistic communication and I was ableist if I didn't respect it

[some-buffoon]

got new brushes

[isaacz]

🔪🍉

[draw-the-squad-like-this]

Draw your characters like this (x)

[lasagnaprince]

man this douche really can't get over the goblin joke huh

[skulandcrossbones]

I appreciate people with grit. ↳ Bloodhounds (사냥개들) (2023)

[thotsoflore]

Hey, you wanna go hunting? Don't worry you don't need a rifle or anything. I've got that covered.

I know a fantastic spot in the woods. Sound can travel for miles without anybody hearing anything. It's absolutely perfect.

We're almost there, mind handing me that knife? Thanks.

What are we hunting? About that...

You should probably start running

[shameless-robot-fucker]

low effort illustration of the volo battle bc the thought would not leave my head but i can't be assed to do proper line art it doesn't end ssssuper well for either Volo or Tsubaki it's fine though :) they get to see each other again later

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

first tma fanart! I have no idea how to draw anyone yet, but I had to draw the most traumatic moment in my guy's life anyways

(daisy & jon are just very neat to me,,)

also here's the warm-up concept sketch thing of very-early-tma Jon I did right before this, 'cus it's kinda neat but I don't like it enough to make it its own post:

still working out my designs for everyone so this will probably not be how I draw s1 jon in the future

[dead-air-radio]

Need to be the beloved lamb of a cult and have the leader publicly mark me in front of his followers by fucking me and carving his signature into me.