#draft horses go sooo hard

[legendaryjackrabbit]

[ariseur]

How do you think Arthur Morgan would react to a reader who has a great connection with animals? The reader knows how to calm animals, from horses to pigs and chickens, she also ensures that the animals have a good food and she will always be seen with a cat or a dog in her arms.

animal whisperer 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

arthur morgan x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

this request was sooo cute!! sorry it took me a little while to complete it, i’ve been working on like fifteen different drafts at once !! 💗

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

mentions of animals ( dogs, cats, horses ), mentions of arthur getting bucked off of his horse 😭, intended lowercase, lmk if i missed anything!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

❥ let me start this off by saying that i think arthur would literally adore you and your presence. like, he already thinks you’re such a beautiful lady and that you’re amazing within your own, but seeing you so domestic with animals does something to him.

❥ arthur’s lived a hard life, he’s calloused and struggles with letting himself enjoy some of the nicer moments in life alone. but when he finds you, it feels like all of the toughness that everybody sees melts away. all he wants is you, and now that’s he’s experienced the feeling of you, he never wants to let that go

❥ if you have a more curt and blunt nature to yourself, but you just melt around animals? oh, man— he’ll do anything to see that side of you. whenever it slips out and he sees you care so much for the horses or actually supply them with hay bales and proper necessities, his eyes will always follow you curiously

❥ and even if you’re a super sweet and outwardly kind person, he’ll still adore you!! he thinks it’s cute how you care so much for animals even if he wont say it to you, he has a fondness for animals too— except it’s more so updating his compendium and hunting them rather than taking them under his wing and feeding them 😭

❥ if you have a dog, he will love that baby to death let me tell you. doesn’t matter if they’re mangy or a mutt or even purebred, he will love them regardless. if we’re going based off what dogs you can get in rdo, i think he’d get along with a chill bigger dog— but even if your dog was energetic or more on guard like a chesapeake bay retriever or a labrador retriever, he will still adore them. i can just imagine arthur with a little guard dog by his side walking through camp as it follows him everywhere. having a dog will probably make him remember his old dog copper as he tells you tales of his journeys with him at night while rubbing your dog behind the ear as it lays its head on his lap.

❥ arthur’s not really a cat person but he won’t mind if you have one!! cats are very independent and he understands that so he’ll give them their space until one day they just like.. drape themselves over his lap and he has no idea what to do. he feels bad if he stands up but like.. he doesn’t know what else to do 😭

❥ and while i’m writing this i’m thinking of how in the game, micah would literally kick the crap out of cain in rdr2 and would scold him for no reason :(((. let me just say that arthur would literally not stand for that ( and yes i only write for high honor arthur, but i feel like regardless of his honor he wouldn’t be okay with it either way ). also why am i imagining micah getting bit or scratched and arthur just like laughing at him— like even him and your animal share a look because do you see this utter buffoonery? micah’s more of an animal than anyone if we’re being honest

❥ if you don’t like seeing him hunt or watching him skin animals, then he’ll suggest you turn away or he’ll point out something in the distance ( probably another cute animal prancing around or something ), and if it’s something small like a rabbit or a bird then it’ll be done in no time and he’ll redirect your attention back to him, jumping back on his horse and saying you guys should continue on with your journey

❥ if you need him to stop by to get any necessities or food for the animals at camp, he’ll stop by on his way back and get them the proper things they need. if you thank him, he’ll just brush it off and say it’s no problem— ( he was like two counties away but he’d gladly go back if you needed him to do so ).

❥ in summary, i feel like arthur would do really great with a partner with pets or a love for animals in general. he doesn’t get the fascination too much but he’ll support you nonetheless, as long as you don’t get hurt trying to pet something that looks cute when it’s not lmfao.

❥ holy crap i need jelp whyisa rthjrorhajgan so fne

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈ ｡ﾟ

“shh.. calm down, boy.” with your hands held out cautiously, you slowly approached ARTHUR’s bucking horse— the tennessee walker’s chestnut coat glimmering in the sun as it shone on its back. its alarmed neighs filled the air with only the distant rushing of water to accompany it, along with arthur’s huffs behind you as he caught his breath.

“‘s alright.” you cooed at the horse, waiting until its breaths slowed down slightly before you moved closer. your arms slowly extended out to reach his snout, his eyes widened and looking everywhere but you. you softly shushed as you halted your movements. your hand hovered over the white of his proboscis before finally placing a gentle hand on its nose, feeling its heavy breathing upon your arm.

“i still dont— fff.. get how you.. do ‘at.” arthur wheezed, bent over with his knees supporting him as he placed firm hands on them. he let out a breathy laugh, tipping his head up so you could catch a glimpse of his eyes under the brim of his hat. “i dunno what he even gotten spooked over.” he shook his head, watching as you pulled out a small carrot from your pocket and carefully fed it to his horse who munched on it in delight.

you didn’t pay him a glance as you were enveloped in the tenessee walker instead, smiling as you replied, “probably just somethin’ in the grass.”

“fair ‘nuff.” he shrugged, brushing himself off before placing a hand on his back while he winced. arthur sucked some air between clenched teeth as he struggled to stand upright. “think he got somethin’ in my back, too.” with a string of muttered curses, he hunched over once again.

your head turned this time, still focused on giving small pats to the horse’s nose as you tilted your head. brows furrowed, you asked, “need me to get you something from outta town?”

“naw, ‘s fine—“

“arthur, i was heading out that way already,” you pointed a thumb behind you— leading his vision to your horse stationary in the distance, tapping its hooves against the ground as it waited. he looked back at you as you held a gentle smile on your face and continued, “i don’t mind stoppin’ for something.”

arthur sighed, his fingers still kneading his lower back as he let out an occasional groan.

he let the silence take hold on the situation for a second, contemplating his options. letting his fingers twist and grab at the grass beneath him— his eyes flickered between the two horses, and then finally back to you. realizing it wouldn’t make a difference and you’d probably get it anyway, he waved a dismissive hand around and finally nodded his head.

“yeah, sure.”

𐙚 taglist ; @maskedteaser

[bokettochild]

Tired Feet and Nimble Fingers

Sooo.....

I wrote more Ravio fics. This is one of two, the second one still needs to be reread and checked for errors, but rest assured to whomever requested a fic for Ravio getting some fussing, I nearly killed the kid for you :)

Mr. Hero had nice hands.

Oh sure, they were rather thin, and a bit knobby at the knuckles, aged in a way most people their age would not understand for decades yet, but they were nimble, quick, and forever flitting from one thing to another with the easy grace of a person who’s done everything with their life except sit still and rest.

Mr. Hero’s hands were worn and aged but feather light in their touch and still impossibly firm when he’d grab Ravio by the scarf and pull him down the one inch that was between the two of them so he could glare at him for one thing or another. Honestly, he rarely really did anything questionable, but the ever irritated “Why?” that Mr. Hero always shot at him when he raised the price of an item or tacked on another fee, be it emotional repercussions charges for tending his wounds, or a petty increase when he’d been made to actually worry for someone else, or even in the rare instance when Mr. Hero managed to actually make him angry. Either way, soft or firm, Mr. Hero had nice hands, and on the rare instance Ravio had actually seen him remove his rings (Mr. Hero had complained of swelling, and had nearly had to pry them off) he always smiled at the sight of them.

Was that weird? Probably. But there was a lot you could tell about a person by their hands, and Mr. Hero’s told the story of someone who gave and fought for others since he’d been able, and even if the caring person hid behind the shadows of his bangs or the icy pain in his eyes, Ravio knew that person was still in there.

And at times like this, he got to actually see it.

“What are you doing?” The merchant shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at the other end of the couch where Mr. Hero had been sitting since he’d stumbled through the door with a tired groan. He’d collapsed onto the couch not long after, drenched and covered in mud, and it had been all Ravio could do to convince him to shed his extra layers and change into something clean, at least. Sure, he’d had to actually dig through the scant wardrobe in the bedroom to find something, but once the over-sized tunic had been shoved in the veteran hero’s face, he’d agreed to strip off his wet things, and Ravio had given him the space to do so while he’d made some warm cocoa for the two of them.

He would have preferred cider, but Mr. Hero still refused to share the recipe with him.

Now, however, he’d flopped onto the couch himself, uncaring for the fact that he’d had to settle his legs in the lap of his friend. After all, if Mr. Hero minded, he would have pushed him off. As was though, the pink-haired teen was staring at his feet with no small amount of displeasure, and Ravio was half considering pulling them back to himself and resigning himself to just curling up on the couch into one corner so he could give the other boy his space.

Firm hands latched around his boot, tugging with a small grunt and surprising the merchant greatly. “Mr. Hero, I just-”

“No shoes.” The pink-haired hero huffed. “Not on the couch.”

“Says the one who trudges dirt all over my freshly cleaned floors!” Ravio huffed, trying not to wiggle too much as Mr. Hero not only pulled off his shoes but, after making a disgusted face at the smell of his feet, had also yanked his socks off, throwing them over to the pile of sopping laundry on the floor. Ravio made a note to pick that up and help wash it later.

“My floors.” Mr. Hero corrected him, tugging the towel Ravio had given him earlier off of his shoulders and wiping its wet ends over the merchant’s feet, making him stiffen. “It’s my house I’ll have you know.”

“Mr. Hero, are you- are you cleaning my feet?”

“It’s not like you ever do it, when’s the last time you bathed, you filthy bunny?”

“Two days ago.” Ravio huffed into his cocoa, savoring the taste and the thrum of warmth that bloomed in his chest both at the drink and the sensation of Mr. Hero’s nimble fingers helping to clean the grime from his, admittedly, filthy feet. “More recently than you, I daresay, Mr. Hero.”

“I just showered.” Violet eyes flitted up to meet his as Mr. Hero motioned to the door ad likely the stormy weather outside.

“That doesn’t count!”

“It does for me.”

“When did you last bathe? With soap?”

Mr. Hero didn’t answer, instead continuing to rub the dirt and dust off the bottoms of his house-mate's feet with the wet towel. Ravio hmphed. A fight for another day then, it isn’t as if he had the energy to draw a bath and push his friend into it anyways.

A delightful, rough sensation rubbed over the base of his foot, firm and still somehow incredibly relaxing, and the bunny merchant found himself torn between sinking into the cushions with a sigh as some of the pain in his limbs faded and staring down at Mr. Hero to see what had been done. In the end, he’d sunk into the cushions of the couch, lids fluttering as a heavy sigh pulled itself from his lungs. “What-”

“You’re as tight-string as my gran’s horses.” Mr. Hero drawled, and the sensation repeated itself, warm pressure sliding across the ridge of his foot. “This used to work on my uncle, relax.”

It took longer than necessary to actually realize that his friend was rubbing his feet, but Ravio was too warm and comfortable to really care, especially with how sore the appendages in question had been with scurrying here and there over the last few days tending to the shop.

Mr. Hero’s hands were miracle workers, and Ravio was hardly even awake when the veteran hero had finally stopped with his self-assigned task, pushing himself up and leaving Ravio to stretch out over the length of the couch. All the merchant could register was the increase of weight on top of him, the clinking of two empty mugs being placed in the kitchen sink, and the door creaking open.

He never felt the draft when Mr. Hero left back into the outside world to continue his quest, but when he woke the next morning, it was to find the hero’s favorite blanket spread out over the top of him and a fresh pair of fuzzy socks slipped over his clean and no longer painfully tense feet.

“Ravio, sit.” Mr. Hero groaned, leaning back on the couch and pinned in place by the sailor using his legs as a back rest. “If you don’t, I swear I’m going to have Twilight throw you at the couch!”

The merchant in question pouted, he’d been trying his best to tidy the living room, after all, Mr. Hero and his family had been quite unexpected that evening and the place was, unfortunately, a mess. One had to take inventory now and again, and the sad fact of it was that that required pulling everything off the shelves and out of storage and from around the house to count it up and figure out if he should risk attempting to return to Lorule or attempting to work Mr. Hero’s small smithy out back in order to restock his items.

He’d only counted up everything and had been working on cleaning and polishing his various items when the heroes had come knocking at the front door, and then he’d been so busy helping them warm up from the chill (they were all wearing the scarves he’d given them and it pleased him to no end) and making a meal with Mr. Hero that he’d been left unable to finish gathering the things that had been scattered across the floor. Of course, after dinner was finished, he’d set right to it, but now that everyone was settled around the fire with warm mugs in hand and fluffy scarves around their necks, Mr. Hero seemed to only be agitated by his puttering about and moving everything again.

To be fair, he hadn’t stopped moving for the last thirty minutes since the others had helped gather his things back up so they could sit, but there was so much to put away!

“Mr. Hero, I still-”

“Sit.” Mr. Hero squeaked grouchily, earning a few giggles as Mr. Rancher and Mr. Chosen Hero exchanged glances, smiles wide. “My feet hurt just from looking at you.”

Like it or not, Ravio’s ears were already pricking up at those words.

Since that first time, Mr. Hero had done him the favor of massaging his feet after a hard day many times, and as much as Ravio didn’t want to expect it of him, it was incredibly nice to have someone fuss over him, if only for a little bit, and if there was even a chance that it would happen again, well...

It was entirely intentional that he flopped onto the couch, feet resting easily in Mr. Hero’s lap as he stretched out. He could have sat down, he really could, but the fact of it was that he simply didn’t want to. Fortunately, Mr. Hero didn’t seem to mind, and too the merchants delight his friend immediately started pulling off his shoes with the same old familiar huff and wrinkling of his button nose, tossing the shoes as far away as possible to avoid having to remain in contact with them for long.

It was a practiced and much appreciated ritual that was Mr. Hero helping him relax after a long day. Just as cocoa or cider was prepared when either was having a particularly long or difficult day, or how Ravio always made sure Mr. Hero ate three meals a day and slept for at least four hours, taking care that his friend wasn’t positioned too uncomfortably wherever it was that he finally passed out. Mr. Hero touching his feet was normal, just like him playing with Mr. Hero’s hair once the other boy had settled down at last.

Perhaps though, it wasn’t all that common for the others.

“Vet?”

Mr. Hero blinked up from his work, violet eyes meeting the midnight blue of Mr. Rancher impassively.

“What in Ordonia are ya doin’?”

The veteran hero cocked a brow. “Foot massage, he won’t relax otherwise, and foot pains a-” Captain Hero Sir Jr. shot a look their way and Mr. Hero quickly amended what he’d been about to say. “Foot pain sucks.”

“You are touching feet.” Mr. Rancher wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t that a bit... gross?”

“Says the man who eats bee larva.” Came the quipped reply. “I wash them first, pities sakes.”

“By my head!?!?!?” Tune started jumping up and away and shooting Mr. Hero a hurt look. “Like, yeah, sure, I help Granny on bad days too, but warn a fellow if you’re gonna be having feet by his head.”

“Don’t sit on my legs.”

Ravio chuckled, letting the noise and chatter wash over him.

Mr. Hero’s hands never failed to sooth the pains of the day.

The heroes had stumbled in time and again over the months, and Ravio had grown quite used to their presence. Time passed differently on both ends of things, but he’d since learned when abouts to expect that they'd appear, and the house was, thankfully, stocked fully for each visit.

Autumn had brought about harvest, and the heroes had darted in and out, occasionally offering help and other times only crashing wearily in the living room and Mr. Hero’s bedroom for the night before they had to return to chasing the monsters. Today was one of the longer stays, especially if how Mr. Captain Hero Sir was moving so stiffly was any indication.

“Do you need me to step on you again?” Mr. Smithy asked worriedly as Mr. Captain Hero Sir eased his way down onto the couch, earning a few looks both from the merchant and the other heroes while Sheerow flitted about the man's head, chirruping worriedly and earning a gentle word or so from the captain.

Mr. Captain Hero Sir was in quite the state, stiff as a board and moving as poorly as the old pump in the village. It made him worried, and try as he might, he couldn’t think of any of his items that would help.

Mr. Hero appeared to already have an answer though. “Tunic off, Cap, and on the couch.”

Sharp blue blinked over in confusion to where Mr. Hero was already shedding his boots and rolling up his sleeves with a purpose. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Massage. Works wonders for back pain. Hop to it or I’m rescinding my offer.”

It was one thing to be on the receiving end of matters, but another entirely to be one of those who watched. Mr. Hero put his full weight into his hands as he worked, kneading out the knots in his friend's muscles while Mr. Captain Hero Sir melted into the couch with little relieved noises.

Maybe it took the others realizing that the vet didn’t just help him, but after that it wasn’t at all uncommon for him to carry in his attempts at cider or his wonderful cocoa and see Mr. Hero standing over one of the others and putting his clever hands to work in soothing tensed muscles back into place, the heroes under his hands melting under his touch.

The first time he heard Mr. Hero humming under his breath while he worked, the other heroes had all looked incredibly surprised, but not upset in the slightest. It was a lovely tune after all, and Tune himself started playing with his baton in time the gentle music, swaying in his seat and waving the instrument while the others continued working on repairing and tending their various items and clothing articles.

There was a pattern. For Mr. Captain Hero Sir it was his back, although rather rarely, and the same went for Mr. Chosen Hero.

For Captain Hero Sir Jr. It was his neck and shoulders.

Mr. Smithy got stress headaches that seemed to ease when someone helped message his temples.

Mr. Rancher had problems with his left wrist specifically.

Ravio of course had poor feet, and while Tune and Wild seemed to be mostly left unscathed from the repetitive pains that the others did, they took every opportunity to cling to Mr. Hero with their whole bodies when they felt that they wanted pets or attention when their mentor’s/brothers were too busy.

He’d attempted to return the favor all of one time. The black eye and bloody nose he got out of it weren’t even made better with the nearly tearful apologies of his best friend as Mr. Hero had jumped to his feet and dashed outside to get some ice for the injury.

Once the blood was cleaned up, the vet had sat in shame as Ravio had joined the others in teasing him for his “killer reflexes”.

“I can’t help it! People touching my feet- It-” Mr. Hero tugged at his hair frustratedly, eyes turning to the sky hopelessly. “I’m sorry, Ravio. It was an accident, I swear.”

“I know, Mr. Hero, I know.” He’d giggled out the reassurance, but from that day on he avoided touching Mr. Hero’s feet in any way possible.

(Oddly enough though, that didn’t stop a few of the others from trying, and Mr. Hero’s sleep was interrupted many times by heroes that had been kicked in the nose or even the mouth because they’d dared each other to touch the teen’s feet while he slept. Mr. Captain Hero Sir had complained for days until his own black eye healed, and Mr. Hero hadn’t even bother apologizing, stating that the others shouldn’t have tempted fat so foolishly.)

He felt a bit guilty for not returning the favor, but he knew better than to try again where so many others had failed.

And then winter had sprung up. Winter with its harsh gales that blew in half frozen heroes that tracked ice and snow across the floor as they bundled in front of the fire, wrapped head to toe for the weather. Winter when he’d brew hot cocoa to warm them all up, letting Mr. Hero tug down blankets to wrap around their on-and-off house-mates (guests no longer applied at this point). The mugs offered were warm, and Ravio smiled as each hero offered him a word of thanks as his tray grew lighter and lighter until he only had the two mugs left.

Mr. Hero had pulled together his usual nest before the fire. His huge blanket and a few spare pillows all bundled together into a comfortable place to sit for the younger heroes in order to make up for the lack of a second couch, and the vet sat in its center, still working to arrange the cushions with stiff fingers and chattering teeth until Ravio had pulled on his friend’s tunic and urged him to sit down.

When he offered the mug though, Mr. Hero had fumbled it and nearly dropped it, a hiss of irritation whishing from between his teeth and he glared down at his stiff digits. “Blast! Din’s sake, why does the freaking cold always freaking-”

Warm hands, worn from housekeeping and smithy work, wrapped around the vet’s as Ravio gently rubbed some warmth back into the stiff fingers. Mr. Hero started slightly at the touch, but didn’t complain as the merchant continued to press his into the rises and against the bones of his friend’s gnarled hands, offering warmth and relief against the pain and the cold both for a few short minutes, and Mr. Hero melted into the touch, as he always inevitably did, letting Ravio have his way for the moment and leaning to sit back-to-back with Wild while the merchant worked.

When he’d released his housemate, it’d only been to press a mug into the vet’s hands, but then he’d been settling across from him on the blanket nest, stockinged feet coming to rest in his friend’s lap as he’d pulled his own mug close for a sip. Violet eyes offered a begrudging smile that was returned in rupee green, but no words were spoken between the two as they enjoyed their cocoa.

Mr. Captain Hero Sir however wasn’t about to let it pass. “So, hand holding now, uh? Should I be talking to Fable about a wedding day?”

Ravio was certain that the only thing keeping some very rude signs from being exchanged as the fact that Mr. Hero wasn’t willing to stress his hands further or release the warmth that he held in them. The pink-haired hero did shoot a very disappointed look towards the captain though.

[honoredbastard]

such pretty tears, baby boy ♡

“does this get you off?”          “MGH! y/n please-”     “ah ah ah-”   

✻ ˒ ໍ CHARACTERS ♡ bonten!mikey, bonten!rindou haitani and sadist gn!reader. all above the age of 20. they’re all timeskipped.

✻ ˒ ໍ CONTENT/KINKS ♡ NSFW, EDGING, TYING, OVERSTIMULATION, Y/N BEING A soft SADIST-(?) MASOCHISTS, BOTTOM, BOYS, GIVE NO REICIVE. drug/addiction mention(s). MENTIONS OF PET PLAY.

✻ ˒ ໍ A/N ♡ Y’ALL SADISTIC GN!READER HAS ME BY THE NECK-. i don’t know how to write rindou nor smut well FORGIVE ME GODS OF SMUT- it’s just a little drabble thingy ma jig that really couldn’t be kept in my drafts for too long- manga spoilers? draken will be next time? also toy/gear mentions.

::  ִֶָ MANJIRO “MIKEY” SANO 𓂅

sex with mikey was usually nice, lazy, and quiet. on other days he’d devour your body like a starving man, but in reality he was a little on the frustrated side. sexually. at times he’d be away for business purposes as he’d tell you and leave sanzu or rindou to be your bodyguard. as for rindou you appreciated his company, he didn’t talk to you much but the times you’d cook for him ( he loves your cooking, bad or not this man will devour it in full. so will ran, ran is just all smiles and eating. burnt food? doesn’t bother him. ) and/or just a small conversation was enough for you to smile. although sanzu was a different story, the top trusted bonten members and mikey all shared a loft, including you. so it didn’t take a lot of time to understand sanzu’s.... addiction.

it didn’t bother you much but whenever you came out of your shared room with mikey, he’d stare. just stare at you calmly, sword or gun in hand. sometimes he mistook you for his s/o, other times he was too high to think straight and was sprawled out on the couch. half of his body melting into the floor. you wondered how he could do that comfortably. 

but that didn’t matter anymore, mikey was arriving home soon and you snuck around to grab some things around the house. a rope (thank you high sanzu for complying and ordering one), a ball gag, a small paddle that shouldn’t hurt too much, and a blindfold. all things you ordered off the internet after studying in secret for weeks.

when you were alone, lonely, and sexually frustrated you stumbled across bdsm and kinks. of course mikey had kinks and interests that he’d expressed to you which you happily indulged in them. ( his spanks hurt, but they make mikey’s hips thrusting against you afterwards 10x better. ) at the time you just believed you were a maso with a bratty side and mikey had to many kinks to list that left you both in undying pleasure.

all until you were alone all over again, sanzu drunk and on whatever drug he smoked or popped this time. you were free to do as you want. a little on the dangerous side when your boredom stretched for hours on end when sanzu was sober enough to recognize your sneaking presence. at times he’d play along and sneak up behind you ( he’s too good at this when he has his sanity tbh ) and whisper in your ear “what are we hunting this time?” “OH FUCK!!” you’d scream and on reflex threw a fist at the man, who’s arms blocked his face and your fist. “sanzu!” you groaned, heart thumping against your chest like a race horse.

“i’m sorry.” you voice strained, scared that you fucked up this last time with sanzu and he was tired of it. “it’s fine, it’s fine. i’m the one who scared you. sooo... whatcha sneakin’ about for?” he grinned, leaning closer to your face. his eyes felt like he could see your lies before you’d come up with one, so you just told the truth.... parts of it at least. “i didn’t want to wake you and i got ordered stuff that i wanted to use online and i was gonna go get it!” 

sanzu’s face that was inches apart from yours leaned away, he smiled politely before trotting back to the couch. “all good, just wanted to make sure boss’ partner wasn’t meetin’ other gang members. y’know?” his body practically melted into the couch, eyes flicking between you and the t.v before getting comfortable. “you know i would never, sanzu!” you grinned, he shrugged, eyes already half-lidded. 

yup, he was about as stable as a dizzy ram for a few minutes there. you sighed and marched your way to outside where two small boxes were stacked above a bigger box. those were all toys- anal beads, a small paddle, dildos. you name it, you ordered it. you could already fantasize it- mikey under your touch, tied to a chair with every. single. part of him.... exposed. your body felt a shock through it, biting your lip to remain calm but it was hard for your ideas to settle.

you could already feel a knot building in your stomach that you had to get out badly. mikey would be a couple hours right? when you arrived to your shared space with mikey, you put the boxes in the closet and searched for something of his. something that smelled of him, that made you tingle in all the right places. you found a familiar black shirt so you took it, plopped onto the bed and held it in one hand while the other went to town on yourself. you began losing your mind from the pleasure as you started edging yourself - falling into a fantasy of your own.

mikey body was wearing ropes like clothes, you were staring him down with a smug smirk. eyes slow and attentive, it made mikey twitch when he watched. toes curled when you licked your lips, biting down on your cheek to stop you from devouring him right there. no no no, you had to have your fun. you inched closer to him, eyes never leaving his.

the man unable to speak was bontens number one, his life was right there for you to hold in your palms. you were aware of this, but you treated him like he was another civilian. he, of course, allowed you to. your hands brushed his untouched cock that was dripping with precum, “excited already?” you asked, licking the pent up contents.

mikey, who was gagged, nodded quickly before your warm tongue dragged itself from his base to his already flushed tip. playing with the slit for your own amusement while he tried to buck his hips to no avail. you were aware he’d try to get himself into your mouth, lure you into his trap where he has his way with you and not the other way around.

“ah-ah-ah.” you shook a finger at him, a teasing yet playful tone, your hand wrapped itself around his veiny shaft, slowly but surely raising the speed with each bite you placed on his pale thighs. he twitched and squirmed as he neared his release till you slowed down at the peak moment. you could hear his frustration through his muffled pants and whimpers. your fingers rubbed back and forth across his slit before placing a thumb there.

you looked up at mikey who’s cheeks were redder than a tomato, you kept looking while your mouth neared his inner thighs. you placed hickeys, ran a nail from the inside his hip down his thigh which made him squirm more. his skin flinched at the odd feeling, then you did it with his cock.

that sent him into an odd feeling of pleasure that made his toes curled, breath hitch, and eyes squeeze shut. raising yourself from the ground, you sat onto his lap with open legs for taunting him. “should i remove that ballgag? hmm?” you questioned, blowing into his ear before biting at the lobe. “so sanzu can hear your pleasure as i play with you to my heart content?” you licked behind his ear, his head jerked back slightly - free rain to kiss up and down his neck.

 “i’m not letting you cum till you cry for me.. slut.” you clicked in his ear, he shivered at your dominance over him. 

I’M GOING TO HELL FOR THIS ONE EVEN IF IT’S SHITTY LMFAO-

::  ִֶָ RINDOU HAITANI 𓂅

sex with rindou was about a mix of everything. it was like those ‘god making me’ tiktoks you’d stumble upon every-so often from your pure boredom. at times you were allowed to go to bonten meetings and overs you weren’t. ( rindou is keen on protecting you from the heavy shit he sees too often. especially if those meetings are fucked up. ) so when you weren’t either someone who was already informed like koko or ran which rindou trusted more than anyone to watch over you, to be your bodyguard. 

the problem was, rindou didn’t touch you in the places that craved being touched. your bottom half was aching to feel his hands again, to become red, fading into purple and blues. aching afterwards but getting the best aftercare, you were treated like royalty after you let rindou have his way with you. you even missed his breeding kink that would never end and left you in a shaking mess.

yet although all the offers and signals you threw at him, he brushed you off. now this was getting on your nerves. very much on your nerves. so you set up a plan: overstim and edge your boyfriend beyond compare. you’d give him the best aftercare for a price. you were going to have your way with him, of course you’ll ask for consent and walk him through what you’d do to him. but after that the power exchange was all yours.

you’d both mutually set up on a safe word and if either of you couldn’t speak properly you set up a safe signal. rindou was invested in bdsm and you too, became invested into it. which may have flipped your sadist switch. the idea was to tie rin up or to a chair. you had plenty of gear ( both pet and non pet play ) and way too many restraining gear. which excited you of all the things you could do.

although you knew one thing for sure. you were going to play with his cock till it ached and tears were burning into his cheeks while you tried your way at humiliating him. he’d done this to you many times, restrained you, made your nipples harder than him. it was everything.

when you peered out of your room you saw ran sitting at the dinner table concentrating at something. “should i pester him?” you questioned aloud in a hushed voice, “hm? oh is that you, y/n?” “yes?!” you felt like you got caught, your voice was high pitched and confused which made ran laugh. “at ease, come on over here.” following his orders like a dog, you stumbled your way over to ran awkwardly.

you stared at the cards in awe, “are you playing by yourself?” “actually yes i am! would you like to play with me?” “sure!” you sat time with a smile, yyou seemed focused but your mind was somewhere else. far far away from the ground, it all played out with rindou’s loud moans and occassional grunts as your hand slid down his length. eyes flicking to him than the thing you were working so well for - applying your mouth soon after. though rindou failed your plans for his edging, you still went to town as he filled your mouth, riding his orgasim while you kept going. the pleasure becoming painful but it felt oh-so.... good.

                thanks for reading! <3 it was horrible but fun to write 10/10.                 rindou’s part sucked everything that i had worked on was                 deleted and i’m still pissed so it’s not great, thank you!

[cryptidofthekeys]

Festus

Sooo... I uh forgot to post the himbo cowboy/farm lad I made the other day hjfkdjhfvdk oops but hes here now!

next up will be my MoD sona/oc

| Name: Festus

| Nicknames: Fes or Fest

| Gender: He/Him

| Age: 30s

| Height: 7ft

| Species/Race: Human

| Hair Color: Honey Blonde (he keeps his hair in a ponytail)

| Eye Color: Sapphire Blue

| Skin Color/Body Type: Tan and he’s very chubby- just mans built fuckin BOXY style- hes w ID E as hell

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| Appearance: His main outfit is a short sleeved white crop top with dark blue denim overalls, he then wears some old worn out black boots, in fact his outfit in general looks worn out, the overalls are distressed and have a good amount of holes in them, the shoes are scuffed but hey- the outfit is still wearable- as long as it's still wearable- he’ll wear until the outfit and boots are completely destroyed p much- he doesn’t mind going barefoot for a while- he’s VERY much used to being barefoot, the shoes just help keep those prickly things from sticking his feet.

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He also wears a huge straw hat, gotta keep that sun off of him somewhat at the very least ya know- also allow me to be very descriptive and overly detailed, first and foremost- he’s got a circle beard- get that outta the way but uh also, mans is hairy- like- im talkin tons of hair on his arms, legs, chest especially- and when I said he was wide I very much mean wide- he can barely fit through certain areas but somehow he manages (he’s broken several doors and other areas trying to get into them, you just see a buncha boards or duct tape over the things)

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| Personality: Well he’s definitely not the brightest nor the sharpest tool in the shed but he works hard not smart lmao, he’s very respectful though, sweet, kind, caring, and very loving- He hasn’t got a cruel, evil, or bad bone in his body- He’s not even intentionally mean but due to his size and overwhelming strength lots of folks are scared of him unfortunately, it can be a good thing and a bad thing- a lotta folks are too afraid to approach him but also thieves or poachers or any bad folks won’t DARE mess with him, he’s scared off t o n s of criminals before.

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

Despite having overwhelming strength that a human probably shouldn’t have (he IS still human tho) he’s extremely gentle and you’d see that firsthand with any of his animals especially-

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

He cares DEEPLY and greatly for all his animals and he holds them so gently (imagine bc of how big n wide I said he was, just imagine a very tiny baby chicken in his massive hands) he holds them so sweetly and gently, loves all his babies- I’ll get into their names in side facts but the basics of him is just he’s very kind, respectful, sweet, loving, and caring- very polite and just works on his ranch/farm to make an honest living that’s it, accidentally intimidating but it can be a good thing sometimes, INHUMANLY strong- like he can lift things humans should REALLY NOT be able to but he can.

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| Side Facts: Okay let’s see, Festus has a HUGE draft horse named Billy Bob, a goat named Shirlene, she’s very feisty and usually don’t take too kindly to strangers meaning she’ll charge them, has some chickens named Debbie, Shelby, Earlene, and Tabitha- has more but I’d be here all day if I named ALL the animals, has some cows named Tammie, he has a few bulls but one in particular is a bull named Bucky who even charges Festus if he’s not careful, Annabelle who also doesn’t like strangers none too well, and then finally an absolute sweetheart of a cow named Patty Sue she loves everyone.

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Bucky usually protects Patty Sue, that's mostly why he charges Festus lmao- He figures Bucky is sweet on her- some geese named Billy Ray and Bobby Joe their brothers and have protected Festus and the other animals many a times before, a donkey named Bo for more protection, and to wrap up the animal names (there’s so many I literally can’t sit here and name them all …UNLESS you genuinely want me to compile the list) he’s got a bluetick hound named Skeeter, a bloodhound named Copper, a border collie named Wyatt, and finally two tiny chihuahuas he rescued from the side of the road when they were literal babies.

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

Now, there’s not much that can actually upset or piss Festus off but anyone and he means ANYONE who hurts, dumps out, or is just hateful toward animals that’s when he gets much more serious, unintentionally aggressive but he can’t STAND animal abusers- those two tiny babies he rescued are named Chester and Fifi (ya can’t hardly separate the two, they need each other) …they also run the house compared to the other big dogs lmao

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Festus is admittedly v e r y clumsy and breaks things VERY easily, he can’t help it- he’s a really big fella- That’s why it's so contrast to see him with animals because he’s SO much more calculated, careful, and cautious even in his movements- He’s… less so with people but that don’t mean he wants to hurt someone-

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Just sometimes he can accidentally start crushing his friends in a hug- he of course immediately lets go and takes off his hat and apologizes but he can’t help it, he’s a big guy with too much strength and a LOT of love to give- Anytime he rough houses with any of his siblings that may come over you can tell he’s holding back his strength like TENFOLD but even then he still manages to beat them.

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

It’s rare his siblings or family come over at all though, they all live a LONG way from his farm so yeye, him and his family have a great relationship though- no problems here for once! Festus would say he lives alone but honestly he never feels alone with all the animals he’s got tbh.

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Festus doesn’t have many things, I won’t say he’s EXTREMELY poor or anything but he’s not the most wealthy either, he doesn’t have video games- he doesn’t have enough time for stuff like that anyways, he’s got crops to grow and harvest and then animals to feed and take care of, he does have a few books here and there, scattered around (his house is a bit messy, nothing too bad but still) and then he’s got a TV with an antenna still attached to it, so he gets a few channels.

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

Very old fashioned-centric of a house and just doesn’t care for too much technology really- the only other ‘electronic’ type thing he’s got is a radio where he listens to a LOT of old country music …Festus does not like new country music bc most of it just sings about beer, pickup trucks, and just- stupid shit- He ain’t about that, one of his favorites is Alan Jackson (he really loves Blue Ridge Mountain Song specifically, makes him cry tbh), loves the charlie daniels band, just- theres a lot- and surprisingly enough- he seems to really love heavy metal/rock too

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

Festus has a banjo that he loves to play occasionally, especially on cool starry nights, looking at the full moon he’ll just bust out the banjo and start playing some soft gentle tones, sometimes his hounds will decide to sing along, howling as he plays.

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

The only final bits I can think of to add is- Festus is bisexual, he’s a lover- doesn’t care about what your gender is, if he loves ya you’ll know it- …Festus isn’t like good at romance though fjkdlfjghdksd he’s completely out of his element but god DAMN does he t r y his best to make any date a good one …He’s also not a fancy person, doesn’t care about fancy restaurants or fancy places, nothing like that- just something simple n plain will suit him just fine.

[mansions-maiden]

Helloooww againnnnn xD

Thank you so much for taking my request before (arthur mc switch place). Sooo i wanna request again if you have timeeee xD

About young mc was a mischievous kid, problem child and often got spanked by her mom back then. So i wanna request the scenario of mc suddenly become a little girl and 12 of them will dealing with her shit*y mischievous behavior xD. Kinda wanna see they got tired and traumatic to have children xD

Thank you so much before and i love you so muchhhhh ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

this was so much fun to write! and sorry it was late! I was busy with school work and the first draft got deleted. so had to rewrite it from the scratch. T-T. wrote it long as a compensation! Enjoy the reading! And second request from the same person! Love you too❤💕

word count: 2K.

The sun rose in the east and dyed the streets of 19th century France in it’s orange hue. Sebastian went to wake MC up as she didn’t wake up yet.

*rap rap* “MC! wake up! It’s morning already!” , he knocked MC bedroom’s door for sometime and yet, there was no answer from the other side. Worried, he went to comte and grabbed the spare keys to MC’s room.

He went inside and searched for mc. But when she couldn’t be found anywhere, he called for comte and Leonardo. Hearing his calls, Leo and comte immediately came running into the room, only to find a small girl child, fast asleep amidst the silky bedsheets.

The three men looked at each other before Leonardo gently picked up the girl in his arms. A crescent smile crawled on to their lips at the sight of the little girl.

Comte took the girl from Leonardo's arms and put her on his hip, wrapping an arm around her little waist.

"who is this little girl? Where did MC go?" Comte asked looking around the room.

The girl woke up from her slumber due to all voices and movements. The three men stared at her. " Hey Leo, why do I get a feeling that this little girl is MC? her eyes look the same as our mc..ow!" Comte cried in pain while speaking as MC was pulling his blonde locks of hair painfully.

Leo laughed at Comte and Sebastian quietly snickered before composing himself and spoke" M.comte, I think we should explain the situation to residents too."

"You're right Sebastian. I shall inform them. " Comte said, finally freeing his hair from MC's grip.

MC was giggling to herself loudly.

(Aand mama Comte and papa Leonardo mode have been activated )

All the residents stared at the new arrivals in the dining hall.

" Goodness Comte! When did you become father? Congratulations on becoming father of 13 members!" Arthur spoke from one end of the table with a mischievous grin.

"stop it Arthur. I am no one's father. And this little girl here is our MC. Looks like she took something that changed her into her childhood self". Comte said with a little frown as he took his seat.

"oh really!? MC is so cute! Come here little girl!" Vincent aka the gentle angel took her from Comte and sat her on the table. "Do you want bread lil doll?" Vincent asked, giving her the baguette.

MC threw the baguette on the other side of the table ( I can hear the sound of Comte's breaking heart seeing his favorite dish being thrown away XD. )

The baguette smacked Mozart's face and a disappointed sigh was heard from him ." It's only morning and I have to deal with little MC's ruckus? She already causes enough trouble in original form.." Mozart said.

"Mama! Papa! Give me chocolates!" MC went to Comte and tugged at his cloak with her little hands.

"wait! Why the hell is she calling you mama and papa!?" Theo asked with a surprised tone to which Leonardo replied with a shrug and laugh.

“sebastian? can you buy her some chocolates? “ comte asked. Sebastian immediately went into the town. 

"You're soo cute Toshiko- little mc! I want to squish you in my arms!" Dazai said as he poked her cheeks and suddenly, a shrill scream of pain escaped his mouth. " Ahh~! Why did you bite my hand !? " Dazai screamed again looking at the red bite mark appearing on his fingers.

"No one touches mc!" Mc squealed and jumped on to the floor and began running. "Catch me if you can!" Mc ran out of the dining room and disappeared into the gardens.

Arthur, Vincent and Napoleon were soon on their feet searching for mc. "Now, where did this sneaky little girl go?!" Arthur said, wiping the sweat beads on his forehead. That's when the three heard heard the adorable giggles of a child.

They saw mc, covered in mud from tip to toe and Arthur's and Theo's dogs running and playing with her.

"Gotcha!" "Ahh~ Arthur! Hehee!" Mc squealed and wriggled , trying to escape from Arthur's grasp.

"hey! W-what are you doing?!" Arthur exclaimed suddenly as he found himself getting covered in dirt by mc. " Wowee! Noe Arthur us dirty! Napoleon! Shoo him away and throw him in the bath"

"Go and freshen up Arthur. I'll take care of her" Napoleon told Arthur and sent him into the mansion.

" Napoleon! Bend down! Bend down! Gimme a piggy back ride! "

"wai- woah!!" Napoleon was surprisingly pulled down by MC by his Cape.

And that's how MC had a whole tour of mansion with Napoleon as her personal horse.

The sun rose further into the sky and soon it was afternoon. All the vampires gathered at the dining table including Shakespeare, who was invited for lunch by Vincent.

Shakespeare heard the giggles of a child. "Why doth I hear the giggles of a child in thy mansion Comte? " Shakespeare asked searching for the source of the voice.

"our MC has turned into a child Will. Those giggles are of our MC." Vincent explained what had happened from the morning.

" oh- looks like destiny has strange ways of entertaining herself.." Shakespeare murmured to no one and called out for MC.

"Shakespeare! You're here. I have some stories for you. Do you want to listen?" Mc asked running into the dining hall.

"what may those stories be little Angel?" Shakespeare asked, making her sit in the chair next to his.

" Do you know, Theo has sweet tooth secretly. He even fills his entire pancakes with sugar syrup! He dips everything he finds in sugar syrup.! And he wants Vincent  to love only him!”

"oi little Hondje ! What do you think you're blabbering about?!" Theo rose from his seat, as he stopped  eating his sugar syrup dipped pan cakes. XD .

"Vincent! Protect me from your darling brother!" MC said hiding behind Shakespeare and sticking her tongue out at Theo.

The mansion reverberated with the laughter of residents as she went on and on telling her stories , which had some of the most embarrassing stories of residents and had left residents with burning cheeks.

After lunch, Theo called little mc and took her out into the town along with his dog King. “ MC! come here! Don’t go wandering off!” Theo was having hard time catching mc and looking after his King at the same time.

“THEO! Come here! You must see this! It’s so cute!!” MC approached Theo and dragged him by his arm. Theo turned to stone as soon as he saw what had caught the sight of mc. “Theo! Theo? ...Hello..Theo!” MC shook Theo by his arm and Theo immediately looked down at her with a flustered gaze,” Why would you want to show me a cat?! You little rascal!” Theo bent down to reach mc’s height. “Oh.. Are you afraid of cats? I’m sorry! I didn’t know that.. but! OH! I gotta tell this to all the members!”

“Don’t you dare!” Theo now ran after MC as she sped off towards mansion. Her mischief kept all the residents on high alert their toes and they didn’t even realize it was evening.

When mc was roaming through the corridors, she found Leonardo fast asleep near the library doors again and  a sudden idea popped in her mind. She woke up Leonardo and gave him a glass of water. “ Leo! I thought you might be thirsty. So I brought you a glass of water!”

Unable to resist her puppy dog eyes, he took a sip of water, only to spit it out the next instant .” What did you mix in this cara mia?!”

“uh-oh! I think  I mixed the salt without my knowledge. Thank you for saving my tongue Leo!” mc said laughing and ran off into the corridors.

Sebastian was in kitchen, cooking dinner  when he felt his waistcoat being tugged. “ Hey, peasant! Bow down to the queen! “ MC posed as a queen with crown stolen taken from comte’s room. “ Your lovely highness, I’m afraid you’re not a queen yet. But the princess of this mansion does deserve a treat. Here” Sebastian told as he kept a chocolate bar in her mouth. A sweet moan escaped her mouth as the chocolate melted in her mouth. “ Yours truly is satisfied peasant! You may continue your work!” MC said as she went off, still chewing off the chocolate in her mouth.

“It looks as if looking MC is much harder than all the 11 vampires combined together..” he sighed as he murmured to himself.

after sometime:

Isaac heard a soft knock on his door and he opened it, and found little mc with her hands behind her back and mischief dancing in her eyes. “I am here to give you this” MC said with a smile as she gave him  a paper. A sour face was made by Isaac as soon as he saw the paper she gave. “What is this?! Not you too!” Isaac cried out as he saw the drawing of Isaac saying, “I love apples” and many more drawings related to apples.

“OH MC! COME HERE!” Isaac shouted as MC ran away, laughing loudly on her way. The residents heard the commotion and came outside, only to find Isaac with a flustered gaze and panting heavily. “Who told mc about apples and me?! Now even she joined in Arthur’s cult!” Isaac told everyone and everyone burst out laughing.

Comte called her into his room and sate her in the chair across him as he asked,” Cherie? Here you go , I bought this for you. “ Comte said as he gave her the new dresses and chocolates.

“ aah!! Comte! thank you so much!! You’re my mama!!” Mc squealed as she hugged comte’s knees.  She stretched out her hand and told, “mama! say aah!” comte opened his mouth and soon found out that she had given him a chocolate. He took her into his arms and sat her on his lap, kissing her nose and forehead affectionately.

After dinner:

MC was on the couch yawning  and scrunching her eyes when comte and Mozart found her. “Are you sleepy cherie? Would you like to sleep?” Comte asked, bending down. “Yes..” “ I shall play a lullaby then. Will you listen to it MC? “ . “yeah...” mc yawned again.

Mozart told comte to follow him into his music room with mc. Mozart began playing  lullaby as soft as the wind chimes in the windy night on his piano. Comte ran his fingers through the hairs of mc as he watched her fall asleep, with her head in his lap with a smile on his face. ‘could this day get any better?’ he thought to himself as continued petting her head.

After MC fell asleep, he carried her gently in  a princess carry into the hall where everyone is gathered.

“Is she asleep?” everyone looked at mc’s sleeping face with adoration as Napoleon asked. “ I can’t believe she has the nerve to sleep after keeping us on our feet the entire day.” Theo sighed .

“ I do agree..she’s such a handful kid.. But it is the most refreshing day and most adorable thing I’ve ever seen”  Arthur said, stretching his hands above his head and laughed.

“I can’t believe one of the most feared emperor  ended up becoming a personal horse for a little girl” napoleon said rubbing his still aching back and shoulders.

“Does anyone want to have a kid here in the mansion?” Sebastian asked with a curious gaze.

“No! Having mc already in her original form is enough to us. She’s just like a big grown up baby. “ Leonardo said with a smile.

“I’m so glad that everyone thinks of MC the same way” Comte said laughing.

“We all are tired today due to her. Let’s call it a day guys..” Everyone retired to their own rooms and comte put her to sleep in her room before going to his room.

Next day, mc was back in her own form with no memories of the previous day. But everyone kept their mouths sealed for they wanted to hide their smile whenever they saw her and were mesmerized by her innocence.

[gofancyninjaworld]

OPM Parallel School Series: Junior High School Student Saitama

Translated by @vibhavm with additional help from Redditors /u/graywords and /u/lucci85.

As part of the drama CDs from 2017, ONE didn’t just write stories set in the canonical story.  He also penned lighter-hearted alternative universe stories, set in a high school... with predictable hijinks.

Audio link: https://soundcloud.com/vibhav-745976766/parallel-school-series-junior

We start:

Saitama (Sa): In this universe, there exists another world different from our world, a parallel world. This is another me, another Saitama, who lives in that parallel world.

Sonic (So): And I, Speed o' Sound Sonic, who went out of my way to transfer to Z Municipal Peace Middle School to settle my dispute with this Saitama!

Sa: (Well, there he is.)

Sa: (What's with the attitude?)

So: On the blood-covered battlefield known as the Sports Festival, in truth I was not really motivated for it, but I was unconsciously beginning to display my true abilities as the strongest ninja, and would unexpectedly become the star of the Sports Festival!

Sa: (It's just at a regular middle school sports festival.)

Sa: (I guess there are guys like that, who pretend they aren't motivated but are actually super excited.)

Sa: (Huh, so you really participated that much?)

So: This... is the lightning-speed sports documentary that recorded my heroism!

So: It’s the day before the Sports Festival.

So: To do image training for the bread eating contest, I was running to school eating a piece of bread.

Sa: You are fully motivated, aren’t you. I haven’t seen a guy like that.

So: Well now, Speed-o’-Sound Sonic, this is the last lap and I’m on one last straight line. It’s the last spot!

So: Fast! Fast! Crazy speed! Now, overtake Saitama running in front of you! Eh, seriously?!

Boom

So: Why the hell were you there on the last straight line?!

Sai: Huh? You tripped and fell on your own, what are you talking about?

So: gasp Hmph, you’ve got the wrong idea.

So: Running to school eating a piece of bread to do image training for the bread eating contest...

So: ...I was doing nothing of the sort! Not at all!

Sa: We don't even have a bread eating contest at our Sports Festival.

So: Eh… Anyway, tomorrow's sports day, be prepared for it! I’ll beat you up until you can’t stand, without fail!

So: I’ll turn the sports day into a bloodbath!

Sai: Uhh, you and I are on the same go-home club team.

So: Eh.. Uh… Hmph…

Music and fireworks

PPP: Sooo, let’s start this year’s Z-City Peace Junior High School Sports Day.

PPP: A physical festival, where muscles will clash with muscles!

PPP: I’m Puri Puri Prisoner, the speaker, i’m very fond of young boys.

PPP: And for the commentator… the well-known first-year junior high school student, Sweet Mask chan is joining us!

SM: Thank you for having me.

PPP: Well then, Amai Mask chan, you hold your annual winning streak with your Student Council team: what’s your outlook for this year?

AM: It goes without saying. This year too, my Student Council team will win without fa-

So: Hehehehehhehe. You’re pretty foolish, Student Council.

AM: Huh! You are…

So: chuckles

AM: Who are you?

PPP: This month a new student was transferred in this school for an exchange draft, B-group, attendance number 8. You’re Speed-o’-Sound Sonic-chan! You prefer a 40-degree temperature for your baths, and you enter the bathtub from the right. And apparently you don’t sleep in a bed but in a futon.

So: Ugh, why do you know so much about me!

PPP: It’s natural for teachers to keep the profile of their cutest students.

So: Anyway! This year's "go-home club team", teamed up with me, Speed o' Sound Sonic, their Golden Rookie, will be on a completely different level than before!

SM: Hmph. So the number of small fries increased by one-

So: I’m not alone.

So: The only man I consider a rival, Saitama! His gofer, the cyborg Genos! Furthermore, the strongest man, King is also here!

So: With those three, everything should be treated very seriously!

PPP: Are you talking about those 3 hurriedly eating over there?

Genos (Ge): Captain Saitama, what would you like as ingredients for the rice balls?

Sai: Salmon for me.

Ge: And you King senpai?

King (K): Tuna.

So: Hey! What are you doing relaxing! The fight is about to start!

Sa: Hm? Mmm..mmm… You wanna eat too? gulp Genos’s Fried Rice Balls are pretty tasty.

So: Mm, well now, let me see.

So: Mmmh, the sweet savoury smell of soy sauce with barley rice flour is- HEY YOU ALL!

Ge: Hmph. The Rice Balls weren't for you in the first place.

So: Tch, this guy.

AM: Did you already fall out with your friends? You can’t challenge our strongest student council team in such a mess.

AM: You should know your social standing. You’re an eyesore. It’s best if you quickly run home.

So: Such a way of talking…

So: You all! Aren’t you annoyed by how he’s talking to us!

Sa: Genos, grab me a barley tea?

King: Yeah, me too!

Ge: Ah, yes!

So: These guys are hopeless. They don’t listen at all…

AM: Heh, good luck with that. It’s going to be useless though. Hahahaha.

So: Tch, you bastards! You’ve acted like this all the time！

Ge: It’s according to plan. With this, the student council has let their guard down.

So: What?!

So: That means, could it be… their lax behaviour up until now…

Ge: Hmph, obviously. It was a fake in order to fool the opponent. Right, Captain Saitama?

Sa: Mh? What did you say?

Ge: Sonic, was it? How can’t you understand that even though you say you’re a ninja?

So: Uh...

So: I don't like your tone of voice, but....

So: I see. As expected of Saitama. I don’t see you as my rival for nothing.

PPP: And noooow, the first event, the mock cavalry battle is starting.

PPP: All contestants, please reach your friends!

Ge: Now then, Captain Saitama, King Senpai, let’s head into battle!

Sai: Ehhh, I'm full from overeating Rice Balls. Is it necessary to have four people? What a drag.

So: This isn’t a strategy at all is it!

SM: After all, the mock cavalry battle finished and naturally our student council team’s victory was secured. The home team was totally unfocused. But I won’t talk about it, because it was quite an embarrassing sight.

So: What a way of talking…

PPP: Well, apparently the Student Council Team is overwhelmingly above the others and leads the chart as of now.

AM: It seems the match is settled.

So: The student council team is 1280 points ahead huh. But there’s one last match.

So: The opposition club activities relay is left!

King: That's right, I believe the team that wins the relay gets 9 times the points.

Sa: Wait, that's way too many.

Ge: I see. If we win the relay, that means we can win by 8,999,999,998,720 points, then.

Sa: Huh. Did we really need that calculation?

So: Anyway! The game starts now! Just you watch, Student Council!

AM: Hahahaha, I could say the same to you from the horrible state you seem to be in.

AM: Everyone! They may be in last place, but the Go-Home Team is desperately trying hard, so please give them a round of applause!

AM: However, I, Amai Mask, pledge that my Student Council team will win the final opposition club activities relay, and achieve complete overall victory.

crowd applauding

So: Tch, what an unpleasant guy.

AM: Good luck to you all, even though I think you’re hopeless.

So: You all, despite being made such a fool of, you’re still-

Ge: All according to plan, this time for sure the Student Council has let their guard down.

So: gasp

So: So you mean... this pathetically slow start... I can't believe it!

Ge: Obviously, this is the final event that will decide everything.

Ge: It was a strategy to retain stamina until the opposition club activities relay. Right, captain Saitama?

Saitama: Man, I'm gettin' sleepy now.

So: I see, to deceive your opponents, you must first start with your allies. I was completely deceived.

So: Alright! Well then, let’s decide on our running order immediately!

Ge: Captain Saitama, what number would you like?

Saitama snoring

K: He’s having a sound nap.

So: This definitely isn’t a strategy at all is it!

PPP: Ok, time for the final event! The activity is the relay fight! The winning team will not only receive 9 times the points, but also a prize of 50 thousand yen!

So: Eh!?

K: Oh, you woke up.

So: So basically, I’ll be running for all 3 people?!

Sa: Well, what number do you want me to run in, Sonic?

So: Saitama…

Ge: Captain…

PPP: Well then, starting off with our first runners -- for the Student Council, their secretary, Drive Knight Chan!

DK: At last, it’s my turn…

PPP: And the go-home team self proclaimed vice captain, Genos-chan!

Ge: For the sake of the Go-Home club, I cannot lose!

PPP: Everyone is ready for the start...

mechanical sound

PPP: Wow, Drive Knight-chan! The lower half of his mechanical body transformed into a horse-shaped one!

PPP: Amai Mask chan, isn’t this foul play?

AM: Obviously, this is not foul play. As the opponent is also a cyborg.

PPP: That’s true…

DK: Genos-kun… This is the latest model lower body I prepared for this Sports Festival. The likelihood of you winning again such equipment is next to zero.

Ge: hmph, next to zero you say?

DK: That’s right. Therefo-

Ge: So you mean, it’s not zero, right.

mechanical noise

PPP: The race finally begins! Drive Knight chan and Genos chan, the two advance at a speed that far surpasses human expectations!

running and trotting noise

PPP: Oh, as expected, the performance is different. Drive Knight chan is leading.

DK: Of course...

Ge: I see. Naturally, I can’t best him in leg power. However…

mechanical sound

Ge: Incineration cannon!

Explosions noise

PPP: Ah, what was that?! Drive Knight-chan was blown away by Genos-chan’s Incineration cannon and went out of bounds! And in that moment, Genos-chan has pulled ahead!

AM: That damn Go-home team…

AM: The use of weapons is against the rules!

So: What an idiot! That’s nowhere in the Sports Festival’s guidebook!

AM: Son of a... If it's come to this, I'll just use my position in the Student Council to mark this as a loss for the Go-Home Club due to foul play...

DK: There is no need for that.

AM: Drive Knight!?

DK: I told you, didn’t I? My equipment is the latest model.

DK: If you are going to come at me with weapons, I will counter-attack with even stronger weapons.

DK: Tactical Transformation: Sports Festival Special.

PPP: Oh, Drive Knight-chan’s horse part transformed again! This time it transformed into a missile!

PPP: Ah, look out Genos chan!

Shit ton of noise

PPP: The missile shot by Drive Knight-chan landed! Genos-chan’s body is in pieces. I feel so sorry, Genos-chan! Drive Knight-chan goes right past him!

DK: Sorry, Genos-kun. However, this is reality.

PPP: How can you call this a sports festival anymore?! The other runners have lost their fighting spirit and are falling apart one after another!

AM: As expected of Drive Knight. This match is already over.

G: I wonder about that.

AM: Hah! Genos-kun, with that broken down body, what can-

G: Rocket Punch!

AM?: What?!

Genos’s theme playing

PPP: Oh! Genos’s right hand holding the baton is flying off at even faster speed!

DK: Huh, impossible.

PPP: In a blink of an eye, the second place runner flies past Drive Knight to Sonic-chan!

G: Even if my body is broken and scattered into pieces, I will definitely pass the baton! That is the spirit of the going-home club team!

So: Hmph. Good performance for someone who’s Saitama’s errand-boy.

So: Now it’s up to me, Speed o’ Sound Sonic!

PPP: Wow! The Go-Home team takes the lead, and right after that, the baton of the Student Council team goes to its second player, Flashy Flash-chan!

DK: Forgive me, Flash. It’s up to you now.

Flash (FF): Leave it to me.

So: I’m gonna win this by a landslide！

PPP: Now; it’s a match between Speed o’ Sound Sonic chan and Flashy Flash chan!

PPP: Both have the cute face and speed I love so much. So, so fast!

So: That Student Council guy, he’s not bad…

So: Still, can you actually follow me like this?

FF: Seems like a good runner for the Go-Home team...

FF: still, don’t think you can win against me in speed!

PPP: They both fast, Fast, FAST!! I mean, they’re so fast I can't see them at all! I can’t see anything, it’s all enveloped in a cloud of dust!

So: Alright, take it, Saitama!

Sa: Eh? Where?

Sa: I got dust in my eyes, I can’t see a thing.

So: WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? QUICKLY TAKE THE BATON!

FF: Take it, Zombieman!

Zombieman (ZM): Right, nice job Flash!

So: Hey, carry across the baton Saitama!

Sa: I can’t remove the dust in my eyes…

So: JUST RUN SAITAMA!!!

PPP: Anyway, I couldn’t see anything at all, but it seems like the third runners, Saitama-chan and Zombieman-chan started at almost the exact same time!

So: It seems that everyone has had a chance to see Sonic at the speed of sound!！

PPP: Nope, I didn't see you at all, Sonic chan.

So: What?

PPP: Nobody could see it, too bad.

So: Eh…?

FF: Hey, are you alright? You look like you’re on the brink of death.

PPP: Meanwhile, Saitama is nowhere to be seen!

So: Huh, what did you say!?

PPP: Saitama chan, where did you go off to?

sound effect

Sa: Huh, wait a sec. This scenery is a bit unfamiliar-

BOOM Tropical music

Sa: Eh? Where am I…?

Sa: Ah by any chance, did I take the wrong course? Crap…

Sa: I was running without seeing anything because of the dust...

Sa: Hey this is a jungle…

Sa: Crap, I need to get back quickly.

animal roaring

Sa: Hmm? Something about the animals...

Boom Weird laugh/cry

Sa: Are you… a monster?

Monster (M): That’s right.

I’m a poacher that was monsterfied after a trip to the jungle! With my overwhelming physical ability that was trained to perfection in the jungle, and my hunting instincts, I now reign at the pinnacle of this jungle's ecosystem. As the ultimate invasive species, I will tear people like you, who don the mantle of civilization and allow your physical abilities to devolve, limb from pale civilized limb--

BOOM

Sa: Oops… I should have asked that monster now about which way to Z-City.

Sa: Ah well, it’s probably that way-

Boom

PPP: While Saitama-chan is absent, Zombiman is still running alone!

ZM: Why can’t I see anybody, is this not the sports festival? What am I even racing against? Can I just keep running like this?

AM: Don’t think about it Zombieman, just keep running like that.

ZM: All- Alright, Amai Mask.

So: Damn it, where did Saitama go off to! Hey Genos!

Ge: There’s only one possibility I can think of.

So: What is it?

Ge: He might have gone home.

So: What!? Why in the absolute hell would anyone go home at a time like this!?

Ge: How Naive. You still don’t know anything about the go-home club.

AM: Hmph, looks like this time the match is over.

So: NNGHHHH

Beeping-like sounds

Genos: I sense something, it’s coming!

AM: What!?

PPP: Oh, he’s finally back here, Saitama-chan!

Seigi Shikkou playing

Sa: Sorry, sorry. I went the wrong way…

So: What were you doing, you idiot!

Sa: It’s your fault for spreading dust clouds everywhere.

PPP: However, Zombieman-chan is a long way away in the lead now.

AM: You’re too late.

So: Well, I wonder about that!

AM: What?

Sa: Alrighty, this time I won’t make a mistake.

BWOOSH

PPP: Fa- fa- fast!

Ge: As expected, Captain! His eyes have gone red, probably because money is on the line!

PPP: Saitama chan easily passed Zombieman chan!

ZM: Fast, way too fast!

PPP: And he’s rapidly gaining a wide lead.

AM: Impossible! That plain looking faced guy can’t be this fast!-

Crunch

PPP: Ohh… Amai Mask chan crushed his microphone…

PPP: Mr. Saitama gets ready and passes the baton to King-chan, the anchor!

Sa: I leave the rest to you.

K: Yeah…

PPP: On the other hand the Student Council Team, Zombieman is still far away back.

Ge: As expected Captain Saitama!

So: With this, the match is over.

AM: Nope, you’re pretty naive huh Go-Home team.

So: Huh?

AM: Have a look at our final runner. Can you still say that?

OST: Dark Energy

So: What did you say?

Tatsumaki (T): Hey, why are you running so sluggish! Hurry up and bring the baton to me!

Ge: Tha… That is…

AM: That’s right. The student council vice president. Tornado of Terror!

T: Ugh, I can’t wait anymore!

splash sound

PPP: AAAAAAH! Tatsumaki burst Zombieman’s body into tiny pieces with her Psychokinesis!

PPP: Aaaaand, the baton was passed on to Tatumaki-chan as if it were being carried by water.

So: Gah! In order to win… she even killed her ally!

ZM: No, I’m fine. Since I'm immortal.

Sa: Ah, is that so? I’m glad you’re okay.

ZM: Excuse me, but could you please gather the pieces of flesh scattered over there.

Sa: Sure. Though are you really fine?

AM: Now then, go Tatsumaki, show the power of our student council team!

T: I'll go without you having to say a damn thing, moron! Don't you dare boss me around and give me orders while your useless ass is just sitting back and relaxing in the commentator's seat! You disgust me. Why don't you just go on home with the Go-Home Club?!

PPP: Whoa! Tatsumaki-chan unexpectedly beat the Go-Home Club to the punch by telling him (AM) to go home!

PPP: Amai Mask-chan, is there anything you wish to say towards Tatsumaki-chan?

AM: Fufu

PPP: Amai Mask-chan is just barely able to maintain his smile, but it is at maximum twitching! As usual, today Tatsumaki-chan is emanating an aura of range in all directions!

T: Every last one of them, they can’t do anything without me. Here I go!

wind sfx

crowd panic

PPP: Aaah Tatsumaki-chan’s extremely powerful psychokinesis! There’s an actual tornado invading the campus!

PPP: The students --gagh, and even the tent we’re in, are getting blown away--gaah!

T: HAAAAAAAAAA!

winds intensify

PPP: King-chan.. Where is King-chan!

Sa: Ah, there right?

PPP: The object being blown away with tremendous force… K.. King chan!?

Ge: No, he’s not being blown away...

So: He’s riding the wind!

Sound of something lowering down

Tatsumaki: Huh?

PPP?: WHAT!?

PPP: With tremendous force King chan has wooooooooon!

PPP: The winner is the go-home club team!

cheers

K: Hm, what happened to me?

Sa: You did it, King!

Ge: As expected, King-senpai!

So: This is the world’s strongest man’s power…

T: You’re the one I lost to, it can’t be helped…

Amai: Cheers to you...

PPP: Congratulations, the MVP is King!

Crows woos

Saitama: Nice, let’s eat barbecue with the prize money.

King: Yeah. Though before that… I’m gonna swing by the infirmary.

[nauseateddrive]

3 POEMS by Dana Miller

MX-76

Sneerwise, I’ve seen better Dearborn, without the metal I’d go on to abort you like any other paperweight hitchhiking across my belly and just that fast Grace Kelly has figured out the new math, I’m afraid and lordess, but you’re a strict equation Despite the munitions manifest under the crown of your abdication I just keep on loving you like caloric restriction and late-70s cocaine stretching myself out like St. Swithin’s Day across your salt lick whole oceans of Tawny Kitaen Ready for my Helen Reddy moment I’d sober up if I were you The flecks of Roberta Flack in me will leash every lime tiger leaping out of your 43rd-floor window with a piano strapped to its back

It Glows Under The Half-Smirk

the things you learn while killing yourself... down the end of your own dick, I got my comeuppance quick. this wasn’t like ingestion of the ancestor.

the things you’ll hear in a drowned meadow... I used to think you were a nice bunch of guys, ever out of cigarettes, packs on packs of lies. you thought you burned all the blooms of my life. shark-faced cars for the shark-toothed wife

the way things will phrase themselves in a dream… the porcelain horseshoes of your bent vision. the drugs in your dance have all ditched me, by and by. what’s left is streaks of lightning-blonde--celestial harlot dye.

no truck now for the very idea of you, the two times needles, the twice j’taime. whyever wouldn’t I get off my face? it’s hard, after all, to have fins in this place, where pelicans regard the curvature of the world, and your doormat-ador sneers-- seven full galaxies of dream on.

Last Lighthouses a riff for the faithless majority

You’ll come to know the type You’ve given them all 13 years or more--full of hummable introspection and the most famous rock stars in the world--to say nothing of your dose-dense soul bandying about your hopes and fears built entirely on bracellae and boustrophedon They will come to your birthday parties and you will go to them at Christmas It will seem the safest and most naturally warm thing in the world to lean your full weight on the concrete of their love (though you might as well be giving birth in the High Arctic) Ta, but how the best ones will swear they love you Til you roundly disappoint yourself and believe It’s only when your weight-bearing hand goes crashing through what you thought was such an indomitable, vertical construction of care that you see it was always made of wet newspaper--and you, my dear, are just a penny gaff girl in the back rooms of their subconscious public houses Then, they’ll quietly sneak round the sticky corners of your rawest self—of the actual show-up time—like white privilege guilt-trippers always do in the face of the real ghetto into invisibility into convenience into convention into covering for him--he is their son, after all (even if they would say they didn’t raise him to act like this) there are twins here for sure, but never once (or ever) a twin flame. To the comforts of conformity, even your last lighthouses will bend Away from responsibility and respectability Away from decency and all their debts you owe Away from everything you thought they’d be weddings don’t count, didn’t you know? Ohhh.......You thought they meant always? worse: you thought they meant like you do—didn’t you? Oh what a laugh-a-minute you are Remember? They even told you how funny and fun you are for parties they don’t admit going to What a lift you give to others, they praise! What a joy to all their days! you should always be around, except when you shouldn’t. and you, precious little idiot, you believed there weren’t any shouldn’ts just because you don’t have any for them—didn’t you? Awww....did you write them a Valentine too? Ha. Sorry, but the joke’s absolutely on you. When you’ve been dead about a week curled up like a conch

on the kitchen floor crying hysterically, on the hour every hour, like a beaten child and every bit as confused watching the door and mapping the bruise This is when you’ll realize that they have always been irrelevant It was only ever your heart feasting on the time their mouse your elephant --trunk and memory, that is. For a flash your tear-gasps will morph into insano-giggles as you imagine telling them to go fuck themselves straight off Then you dream of tricking them into a lunch date where really you’re going to FedEx their whole human bodies, post haste, to the same ruinous wasteland where they’ve so nonchalantly annexed you But you can’t find the address. Even after sifting meticulously through whatever shards remain of your blown-out heart, it isn’t there. Damn. Lucifer probably bought it off Judas and stuffed the only copy in his back pocket for safekeeping. in Hell all the prettiest ones are sooo smart. like they always said you were Funny. Rolling over to try and die one more time again, you will bump noses with the one and only Michael Hutchence, right there stretched out next to you, but not quite how you always dreamed it rather like a canebrake of the afterlife like an invigilator this is autoplatonic strangulation after all Devil Inside and that Oh God, how you love(d) that bacchus boy Oh Mab, how you willed this fall Eventually, once you’ve died all you can die and died some more something invisible will remind you of Patti Smith and you’ll remember that you have to get up off the kitchen floor You still have to get up every day and dress in battered menswear like her so you can write revolutionary poems—but be the kind of skinny only artistic girls can get Even if you don’t yet have a Robert Mapplethorpe to switch stripey shirts with in the paint-spatter of afternoon light Even if you still relentlessly wait for them, sometimes, late later, latest in the grin-less night.

Dana Miller is a giggling wordsmith and mega-melomaniac from Atlanta, Georgia. When not wielding a lethal pen, she adores surf culture, Australian grunge rockers, muscle cars, Epiphone guitars, glitter, Doc Martens, and draft horses. Oxford, England is her spirit-home and Radiohead is holding the last shard of her girlhood heart.

[faveficarchive]

Creative License

By Ella Quince

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: PG-13

Synopsis: A very different take on the Warlord AU.

"Bring in the prisoner," growled the warlord.

Then, while waiting for her orders to be carried out, she paced impatiently in the tight confines of her field tent, stopping only when she heard the approaching sounds of muffled cursing and scuffling boots. By the time the guards had dragged a very noisy young woman into the tent and thrown her to the ground, the warlord had schooled her angular face into an impassive mask. Her body, however, was rigid with tension, adding an aura of menace to her already considerable height. Even her mane of hair, brushed into an ebony wave down her back, seemed to bristle with fury.

After a single glance upward, the prisoner's protests strangled into silence.

With slow deliberation, the warlord took note of the young woman's appearance: plump figure, worn skirt and faded blouse, a homely face framed by long, mousy blonde hair. She looked tired, and a little dusty, but otherwise hadn't suffered any harm at the hands of her captors.

The warlord dismissed the guards with a brusque gesture, her gaze still locked on her newly-won prize. Reaching down, she easily pulled the prisoner up onto her feet. Her calloused hand lingered on the young woman's wrist, then finally dropped away.

"So..." drawled the warlord, taking a polite step back from her captive, "you're Gabrielle, the bard from Potidea."

"Y-yes, that's me," said Gabrielle with a proud lift of her head. Unfortunately, her attempt at bravado was compromised by the slight trembling of her chin.

"I'm Xena... Warrior Princess. I think you've heard of me." The warlord's smile didn't reach the ice-blue of her eyes.

The prisoner nodded reluctantly, then flushed a deep, deep pink. "I...I...can explain."

"I don't want an explanation — I want you to stop."

"Stop? I can't stop! I'm a bard and those stories — "

"Those stories are making it very hard for me to do my job," said Xena, her mouth set in a grim line. "In fact, you're the worst threat I've ever faced."

"Me?" squeaked Gabrielle. She cleared her throat and continued at a more normal pitch. "But I'm... I'm just a wandering bard... you're a mighty—"

"Stop that!" roared Xena. "That's exactly what I'm talking about!" With a weary groan, she dropped down onto her camp bed. "All that 'mighty warrior' stuff — people are starting to take it seriously, for Hera's sake. At least once a month I get a challenge to my 'reputation.' Sometimes, if I'm lucky, that reputation works to my advantage — I've practiced that steely-eyed gaze you describe and it's scared a few combatants away before they even drew their blades."

"Really?" said Gabrielle, breaking into a delighted grin. Animation transformed her plain features into something approaching beauty. "That's great! I've always loved that look of—"

"BUT," cut in the warlord, "most of the time I have to fight them off."

"But you win!"

"Oh, yeah," said Xena with a harsh laugh. "There's nothing like having a few archers in the trees to keep the odds in my favor."

Gabrielle sank down onto a low bench across from the warlord. "You had them... shot?"

"Yes, little bard, I did. In the back, usually, so they wouldn't see the bolt coming."

"But how could you? That's not a fair fight!"

"If it was a fair fight," spat out Xena, "I'd be dead by now, because — your stories to the contrary — I'm not the best warrior in Greece. I'm not the best warrior in this gods-forsaken province. By Hades, I'm not even the best warrior among my own men."

A puzzled look crossed the young woman's face. "Then why do they follow you?"

Xena shrugged. "I'm a good administrator." She colored slightly at Gabrielle's incredulous look. "I can read — which most of them can't — and I'm very organized. I insist on a clean camp, with a decent cook, and I pay them on time. What most warlords don't understand about their armies is that soldiers get tired of life on the road, and little details, like having a comfortable place to take a crap, can forge more loyalty than epic conquests."

"Quality of life issues..." muttered Gabrielle pensively, then shook her head. "Nope, nope, I can't work with that. There's no drama in being a good administrator."

"Speaking of drama," said Xena in a peevish tone. "Every year you make my past bloodier and bloodier. That story about me impaling all those Amazons..." She shuddered. "Gave me the creeps. It's a damn good thing there aren't any Amazons near here or they'd have tracked me down and killed me for that massacre. And Hope and that Dahok demon gave me nightmares for weeks."

"Sorry about that," said Gabrielle contritely. "It's just that audiences expect so much from me now, and it was getting a little boring telling the same old tale about us traveling around Greece saving villagers from petty warlords."

"Is that why you had me drag you behind my horse?" demanded Xena. "Because you thought it was exciting? If I'd really done something like that — and you'd lived, which is highly unlikely — you should have run away from me! Fast! Instead you're still hanging around, business as usual." She shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense at all, dramatic or otherwise."

"I was getting to it!" said Gabrielle hotly. "I drafted this really wrenching reconciliation story, where we worked out all our problems..."

"And?"

"Well, it was too touchy-feely for the tavern crowds, so I shelved it for the next festival, and then never got back to it because I was working on another travel arc."

"To India?" asked Xena.

"Hey, you really do keep up! That's my newest material."

"I've never been to India," said Xena, a trifle wistfully. "Or Chin..."

She drew herself up, assuming a commanding air that was completely at odds with her next words. "In fact, I haven't done any of the things you claim I've done. So, bard, I can't help but wonder — why me?"

Gabrielle remained silent, her expression suddenly blank and unreadable. She really was plain looking, thought Xena, when she wasn't smiling. "Hey, come on, Gabrielle. You owe me."

"All right, all right." The young woman's voice was low, but melodious, as she explained. "A few years ago you rode into Potidea to barter for supplies for your men and...." she took a deep breath, "and you were the most amazing woman I'd ever seen. I wanted to follow you and learn to be a warrior just like you." Her face took on a pinched look. "Only I was too scared. I stayed in Potidea, dreaming, always just dreaming, about the life I could've had if I'd been brave enough to try. After awhile I began to tell other people my fantasies about that life — and they loved them. Sooo... I just kept elaborating on Xena and Gabrielle's adventures together. Travelers assumed I was a bard, talking about my real experiences with the Warrior Princess, and the tips got better and better. The next thing I knew, I could afford to leave Potidea and make a decent living traveling from town to town... and I owe it all you," she finished in a whisper.

"That's...uh...." Xena cleared her throat, "that's very flattering... but I'm not like your warrior princess. I'm not the least bit... dramatic."

Gabrielle smiled, and Xena observed once again that surprising transformation of the bard's features from plain to beautiful. "Actually, I'm not that disappointed. The Xena I've created for my stories would probably be a little too intimidating, unless I was as fearless as the Gabrielle of my stories... which I'm not. In fact, you're a much nicer warlord than I expected."

"That's probably because I'm not a very successful warlord," sighed Xena. "I get by, but not much more than that. And now, because of all those tales of yours, towns are starting to expect my army to help them with problems rather than conquer them."

"Oh, but that's wonderful!"

"Mostly they need a hand with road construction or plumbing; sometimes we save a harvest from the ravages of an early frost."

Gabrielle looked a little crestfallen. "Those quality of life issues again. What is it with people? Everyone insists on being so... mundane. That's why I take a little creative license with my plotlines."

The warlord scowled darkly. "Like implying I've bedded half the warriors in Greece? As if. Just for the record, the ones who aren't sleeping with other men would rather bed a tavern wench who wears homespun linen instead of leather. All this," she waved a hand at her leather and armor, "is equipment. If soldiers thought it was sexy they'd be too distracted to survive their first battle."

"Interesting point. That never occurred to me. I just figured, since you're so beautiful—"

"Which reminds me," said Xena gruffly. "That's another one of those rumors that's making my life difficult. Everyone thinks we're a couple, so they get indignant if I'm too friendly with the locals."

"I didn't start that rumor," said Gabrielle hastily. "It was other bards who just sort of... assumed... and then they took my material and added these... twists to the narrative." She blushed and muttered, "Very inventive really... if you go in for that sort of thing." She peered up from beneath her bangs with a shy look of curiosity. "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Go in for...that kind of thing?"

The warlord swallowed hard, then said, "I move around a lot. Makes it kind of difficult to keep a relationship going."

"You haven't answered my question."

"In case you've forgotten," snapped Xena, "I'm the warlord and this is my interrogation. So stop changing the subject — which is you and your infernal stories!"

The bard cringed, her shoulders hunching as if to deflect a blow, but she relaxed a little when she realized that Xena's fuming wasn't going to erupt into violence. "Funny, I never expected you to take much notice of me... or my stories... but if you did, I always hoped that you'd be... pleased." Her voice seemed to choke up for a moment. "Anyway, I'm really sorry I've caused you so much trouble, and I promise to stop now."

Oddly enough, Gabrielle's concession didn't appear to please the warlord.

"But how will you make money?"

"I'll work with some of my other characters, maybe Meg and Joxer."

"You'll starve," predicted Xena dourly.

"Okay, so they're not too popular, but I'll get by. After all, I can't continue with my Xena chronicles now that I know they're hurting you."

"Oh, it's not so bad as all that," said Xena uncomfortably. "Besides, even if you stop, all the other bards will keep on going. The damage has already been done, so I've given up expecting my life to return to normal."

"Then why did you have me abducted?"

Xena shrugged, her glance sliding away to study a shadowed corner of the tent. "Curiosity, I guess. Since we spent so much time together in your stories, I started to wonder what you were really like."

"Oh.... Well, as you can see for yourself, I took a little creative license with Gabrielle, too. I'm not brave and resourceful... or beautiful."

The warlord's gaze stole back to the young woman's face. "I'm not disappointed," said Xena softly. "You have the nicest smile I've ever seen.... and it takes courage to stand up to a warlord, even a battered old has-been like me."

"Is that how you see yourself?" asked Gabrielle, her brows drawing together in consternation. "Because as far as I'm concerned, you're still the most amazing woman I've ever met."

"You need to get around more," said Xena dryly.

The bard just smirked. "I get around plenty, thank you very much... enough to know what I want."

When Gabrielle leaned forward, an emotion resembling panic appeared in the warlord's eyes, but she held her ground. When their lips touched, Xena closed her eyes entirely. And when the kiss deepened, a low moan signaled her surrender to the bard.

"Ouch!" muttered Gabrielle, suddenly breaking away from their embrace. "That armor stuff is sharp."

"Sorry." Xena appeared quite flustered, although whether from the kiss or its abrupt interruption was unclear. "It's been a while since I've done this."

"We'd be more comfortable if you took off the metal parts," said Gabrielle firmly.

"Yes, yes, I suppose we would." But the warlord didn't move. In fact, she barely seemed able to breathe.

"Here," said the bard, her fingers gently tugging at a buckle. "Let me help."

With a mute nod, the warlord allowed herself to be disarmed. The bard fumbled a bit with the unfamiliar fastenings, but both of them were too distracted to notice. And by the time Gabrielle had slipped off Xena's breastplate, arm guards and bracers, they'd built up enough momentum to keep right on going.

"The warrior princess is a little better endowed than I am," confessed Xena, aware that the leathers she was pulling off had hidden her flat chest and bony build.

"That's okay," said Gabrielle, stripping her blouse up over her head. "I have enough wealth for the two of us."

"And so you do," whispered the warlord in awestruck appreciation of the bard's generous figure. The renowned washboard abs were nowhere to be seen, but Xena didn't mourn their absence. When she laid Gabrielle down on the cot and covered the bard's body with her own, Xena felt as if she was sinking into two feather pillows, and it was the most exquisite sensation she'd experienced in years.

Gabrielle's arms circled Xena's neck, drawing her close for yet another burning kiss. When the bard finally let go, they were both rather breathless. "I've always wanted to be ravished by a warlord."

"I could have sworn," murmured Xena, as insistent hands worked their way down her back, "that I was the one being ravished."

"Ravished by a bard...." Gabrielle shook her head. "Nope, no dramatic potential there."

"Speak for yourself," said Xena with an appreciative moan as those sure hands reached their goal.

They didn't bother with coherent conversation beyond that point. So it wasn't until much later, after they had collapsed into a companionable tangle of limbs, that Gabrielle said, "I've been thinking about our problem."

"What problem is that?" asked Xena, nuzzling the bard's hair. By candlelight, it had the reddish highlights she'd always imagined to be Gabrielle's color.

"The problem of all those combat challenges and the need for you to keep a lower profile."

"I can take them on," muttered the warlord, before breaking into a wide yawn. "Kill 'em all."

"Down, tiger," said the bard with an indulgent chuckle. "You don't need to prove anything to me. No, I think the time has come for the Warrior Princess to retire. It would feel... weird making up new stories about Xena. You're too real for me to use as inspiration anymore."

"So what's your plan?" Xena's voice was slurred with drowsiness.

"A spectacular, gore-strewn farewell for the Warrior Princess. Lots of fighting and dismemberment. I can even off a few Amazons for good measure. Maybe work in a crucifixion. Yeah, that would be an awesome way for her to die."

Xena grimaced, encroaching slumber pushed back by her queasy contemplation of the bard's scenario. "You have the most morbid imagination."

"Oh, no — this is going to be an epic love story. I'll kill myself off, too. Trust me, this can work."

"And then what?"

"I suppose I'll create another hero, a woman who does something different. Like fighting bacchae instead of warlords. Yes, that's the ticket! I bet I could dine out for weeks on the opening story alone."

"Yeah... yeah, I suppose you could...." Xena propped herself up on one elbow and studied the bard lying beside her. For two such very different-looking women, they fit together remarkably well on the narrow cot. "You know," she said, with a rather poor attempt at nonchalance, "now that my army isn't doing very much looting and pillaging, the men get kind of bored at night. It would raise morale if I hired a bard to entertain them."

"Really?" Unlike the warlord, Gabrielle managed a quite convincing casual tone, but then she'd had a lot of practice on stage. "Just how long could you use the services of this bard?"

"Well..." The warlord's voice was strained with apprehension, but she stalwartly marched forward. "Morale is very important to a good administrator. I think we'd always need a first-class bard around... one like you."

"Why, Xena, I thought you'd never ask."

Despite Gabrielle's teasing tone, Xena had to wipe a few tears off the bard's cheeks. With a contented sigh, the warlord said, "I was a little worried you'd say no. You don't seem to like happy endings."

"I try to avoid being predictable, but sometimes a cliche is just what a story needs."

"Like happily ever after?" ventured Xena.

"Yeah," said the bard. "Like happily ever after."

And her smile stole Xena's breath away.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under a Vanilla Sky prt 37 full draft

Coming too coughing violently, Lance was dazed and confused. Blood ran from some unknown head wound, a sea of smoke had his eyes watering as he gathered himself to his feet. He'd known he was playing with fire by throwing himself at Kre'el, he knew he and he did it anyway. Kre'el had betrayed him. Kre'el had lied to him. She'd used him and she'd hurt Keith. Lasandi wasn't even a bounty hunter and he'd dared to look down on Keith like his existence was insignificant. Just like with Nyma and Rolo, he'd been fucking played... but unlike Nyma and Rolo, hundreds of innocent people had been caught up in Kre'el's twisted games. He didn't know what she had planned, or why she'd acted like she did. He only knew that he hated her... and didn't at the same time. His anger had fast turned to hurt, then to uncertainty, before looping back to soul consuming anger. No one hurt Keith. No one got to fuck with the lives of his friends. Even one of the people he considered his closest allies as he worked to make this region of space a better and safer place. So much had happened, his mind was exhausted, and with his ringing ears he hadn't realised the droning in his ears had come to an end. Stumbling across the uneven crash sight, he clutched his right shoulder with his left hand. The cloth torn beneath his blood bandaged hand. Every step felt as if someone was knifing his hips, but he couldn't see Keith and he needed to find Keith... That was the only clear thought he had. Keith's name. Not his face. Not his smile or ridiculous mullet. No, his mind was too out of it for that. Simply Keith's and the longing to find him. Picking his way through the debris, Lance tried screaming out for his boyfriend. Unable to hear his own voice, the hold on his shoulder was accompanied by him looping his right arm around his waist. He'd never told Keith how deeply his own fear of abandonment ran... not after he'd accidentally been abandoned by the others during a Kuron incident in the training room. Kuron had knocked him unconcious, yet when he'd woken up, he'd been the only one there. Pidge and Hunk had thought he'd been joking... but with how everything had been, their laughter cut to the bone. It was one thing to be a burden in the background, and quite another to be a burden that cost someone their life. Picking his way back to the ship, he screamed as he was attacked from behind, dragged down to the dirt then half choked with the hanging piece of cuff. He hadn't realised his cuffs had broken in the impact. The left snapping clear off the chain, leaving it hanging from the right "You ungrateful little shit. All you needed to do was play your part" Lance didn't even know he was being talked to. He didn't know it was Kre'el who had attacked him, or that the half-crazed Altean had a blaster aimed at the back of his skull. No. He was still mentally chanting "Keith", though some part of his brain was slowly beginning to wake up to the idea of informing him he might just be fucked. With super human strength, Kre'el released the chain, grabbing him by the hair and tearing him up off the ground, so his feet kicked weakly into the air as they failed to find purchase. Babbling and begging formed on his lips, again deaf to the world as he spoke, begging for Klearo to release him. Or trying to beg. Like the rest of him, his mouth and tongue didn't know what to do. Setting him on his feet, Kre'el controlled his movement with her hand, pushing him along, blaster aimed between her pointer finger and thumb. Forced back into the ship, it'd hit the ground, skidded, then stopped so it was relatively upright. By some miracle it'd avoided making a nose dive, instead ripping open its belly as it beached itself. Pipes and all kinds of wires lay exposed, hissing and arcing like angry snakes as he staggered. There was absolutely nothing left in him to fight with Kre'el. She could have killed him right there, and he probably would have welcomed it. Keith was missing. His Keith. He didn't know where his Keith was and that wasn't ok... but he didn't know what to do about it. Lance didn't remember the walk. He didn't remember how he go to where he was. He didn't remember sitting down. He didn't remember being strapped to the chair in the lab, connected to so much tech that Pidge would swoon on the spot. With his head lolled towards his chest, drool ran down his chin. Even Keith's name was beginning to leave his head. He knew he loved someone. Someone who made him feel like the most treasured person ever to exist... but he couldn't name them anymore... he wasn't sure he wanted to name them anymore. Not when sleep was so close... And then sleep wasn't. A bucket of cold water thrown over him causing him to surge up floundering. Eyes wide as he gasped at the sensations and shamelessly wet himself in fear. Struggling against the restraints, the pointy feeling in his elbow drew his attention due to it being such a contrasting pain to the rest of him. A cannula sat against dirty black skin, deep red blood running through its tube. In front of his face, a pair of fingers clicked, trying to draw his attention, but too bad for the owner of the fingers that he couldn't hear. When his focus didn't shift, he was grabbed by the chin, and made to look up and into Kre'el's eyes. She might look nothing like he remembered her, yet, her eyes... Her eyes seemed pained. More pained than they should be for a criminal master mind. More pained than they should be for someone who'd committed the sins she had. Suddenly the ship shuddered, Kre'el's attention ripped away from him. Armed with a blaster, she was moving away from him. A sob bubbled up. A sob that pled not to be left to die alone... He was so fucking cold that his body was spasming uncontrollably, his head lolling back where he didn't have the strength to hold it up anymore. He'd felt death before, and it felt a hell of a lot like this. * Hacking and coughing, Keith had been thrown back behind the console he'd been crawling from. Atop of him, Lasandi's blaster had landed. The Altean shapeshifter now dead, due to the shot Keith had gotten off. Taking it squarely in the back, Lasandi had gone down like the pile of shit he was. Keith had no way of knowing what happened during those ticks or doboshes... maybe even vargas?... he'd been out, but waking up to find the blaster against his bound hands was the first bit of luck he'd had since they wound up on the ship, so he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The shot had been nothing short of amazing, but no one had been there to see it... and in all honesty if they examined the wound site, they would find it wasn't as great as Keith had built up in his head. Pushing his back up the wall, Keith grunted when his ankle wasn't able to support his full weight. Agony flaring up his shin, so fast he nearly fell from it. Sooo... he'd busted his leg. No wonder the blaster had landed in his lap, it was some kind of sick cosmic joke to lessen the pain that came with knowing his ankle was fucking busted to all hell. Watching as an orange pulse landed outside the ship, in the massive pile of debris at the bow, the explosion sent heat roaring into the open bridge. The window and half the ship front seemingly now missing, which was another thing he missed. Quiznak. Fuck. Someone was firing at them... literally the last thing he needed. Looking towards where he'd last seen Lance, Keith found the space barren of his boyfriend, a howl falling from lips as he started to limp run to the spot. At least in his mind he was limping as fast as he could, and not at a substantially hobbled pace. Lance had been there. He'd been right there. His stupid gorgeous Cuban, had been right there... and now he wasn't. Spinning in place, the bodies of kre'el's followers were there, whether they were or alive or not, Keith couldn't tell. None of them were Lance. Shrieking his boyfriend's name, all that answered him was a boom from outside the ship. This couldn't... he couldn't... Tears rushed to fill his eyes, spilling down his cheeks as he started limping towards where the front window had been. Lance had to have been thrown... he... he had to be here somewhere. Keith's heart was racing, the hammering echoing in his head as chest drew painfully tight. Each limp sent fresh pain flying up his leg, but he refused to give up on Lance. He refused to leave him laying outside the ship, more than likely unconscious and unable to protect himself. Reaching the rubble between covering the base of where the ship's window had been, he stumbled hard over the twisted metal dislodged from the floor. Falling forward he wasn't able to stop himself, bracing himself for the inevitable pain of his overly sensitive body hitting the ground, only... that didn't happen. A cold hand grabbing his arm and using his momentum to manoeuvre his body into sitting. Instinct told him to fight, but as he locked eyes with the grey pair filled with concern rather than hatred, a gasp fell from his lips "S-Shiro?" His throat felt constricted from the violent lump of emotion Shiro's presence caused. Dazed and unsure if it was a dream, he looked up to see most of the sky above the crash site was taken up by the Atlas. With the loss of Lance sending him into a meltdown, his brain forgot the whole shapeshifter thing until after he'd seen the Atlas, his whole body tensing as he shuffled backwards from Shiro "Are you real?" Shiro's soft smile turned to frown as he scrunched his brow "What do you mean? Where's Lance? And who's ship is this?" "Are you real?!" Shrieking at his adopted brother, Shiro backed off slightly. The hair, the scar and the arm all looked perfect... or as Shiro as they always did "Keith, whoa. Hang on. Yes, I'm real. I got your message. We wormholed here the second we got a lock on your location" "Second", not "tick". They used seconds on the Atlas... "Are you hurt?" Flinching away from Shiro as Shiro reached for him, Keith knew he'd hurt him. He didn't mean to, but between the ship showing them fucked up images and shapeshifters, there was only so much he could take. "Uh, guys. Not to ruin the mood, but we've got trouble here" Hunk's voice came through Shiro's comms, Keith jumping at the unexpected noise "I've got Keith. He needs urgent medical attention" "I'm fine!" That was fooling no one "I'm fine. We need to find Lance" "He's here?" Shiro cast a glance around them "I think he must have been thrown. We need to find him. He's in danger" "We'll find him. Veronica, Keith needs an evac. Have the pod on standby" "No! I don't need the pod, Lance does. Please. We have to find him... they were after him all along" Shiro huffed at out sigh, swapping from "big brother mode" to "commander mode" "You're in no condition to go anywhere" "And you have no idea what you're talking about. Either help me up, or get out on my way" It wasn't a great threat, or even a good threat. His hands still cuffed and he didn't have a wall behind him he could use as support. Bringing up his communicator, Shiro hit mute on his end "Keith, you need to talk to me. What happened to Lance?" "These are the people behind the people who tortured him! He worked with both of them! He thought they were his friends... He threw himself at Kre'el when she opened a wormhole. He's not think straight" Starting to cry all over again, Shiro placed both hands on Keith's shaking shoulders "If he's here, we'll find him. But for now, I need to get you off the battlefield. We picked up signs of life not that far from here, and if there are more enemy soldiers en ruite, it's not a safe location" "You don't understand" "We're going to get him" Taking himself off mute, Shiro confirmed their position with Veronica, before raising the blaster he was armed with "Acxa..." Shiro's sentence was cut off by Acxa and Zethrid appearing behind him "Keith!" Acxa both looked relieved and worried. Keith knew he how quiznakking awful he looked, but didn't know why they were there... "You two will be with me. Lance is currently missing and may have been taken by enemy combatants" "No!" Bursting out "No'", Keith realised he couldn't state why not, without breaking Lance's trust. Reaching a hand out towards Acxa, she did as he hoped and moved to take it "Keith?" "The ship. It makes you see things. It's Altean, and probably guarded against Galra" It was a logical reason, Shiro didn't buy it. Zethrid looked annoyed, and he Keith couldn't bring himself to look Acxa in the eye "I'll go with Shiro. You two secure the people up here. I don't know if they're still alive..." "You can't even walk!" He didn't need Acxa babying him right now. He needed his goddamn boyfriend to be found and he needed him is his arms "I'll be fine. I'm fine..." Grabbing Keith by the left arm, Keith nearly screamed as Acxa forced it up. The patch job Lance had done, had come undone during the crash "You've been stabbed?!" God, he hated Acxa's big mouth. Any minute sway he'd started building in Shiro's mind was gone now "Get him into a pod" "Shiro! Don't you dare!" One moment Zethrid was there, and the next he was over his shoulder "I'll never fucking forgive you! Never! Let me go!" His screams went unanswered, Zethrid striding away from Shiro and making easy work of navigating her way down to ground level where a pod was waiting to transport them back up to the Atlas. Screaming blue murder, Keith was laid out on the bed on the back, his stolen shirts cut open within ticks of his back hitting the bed. Struggling harder, a familiar ginger moustache appeared in his field of vision. Twisting and forcing himself through the pain, his hands grabbed for Coran "Coran, please. You have to listen to me. You have to find Lance. No one can see him. No one but you and Daehra. You have to help him. You have to. She knows what to do" Coran was replying as Keith felt something press against his shoulder, a moment passed, then his body seemed to grow heavy, all the while he continued to plead with Coran to find Lance. Coran would understand about Lance's medical history. He wasn't Galra. And he was someone Lance had once trusted. He was a good Altean and Lance knew that. As the voices above him whispered back and forth, pressure was placed against his stab wound while plans were made to get him onboard and into the Atlas's healing pod. *** Watching as Keith was carried to safety by Zethrid, Shiro was trying to ignore Veronica's nonstop talking. He understood where the woman was coming from, it'd been over a phoeb, since anyone had heard from Keith or Lance. The messages sent from unknown frequency had been ignored to begin with. After all, you don't leave Voltron or Command the Atlas without forming enemies. Having to deal with a furious Veronica, she'd sworn to make his life a living hell if he failed to locate her missing brother and Keith. To the outside world they were still simply good friends, only he and Curtis knowing any differently until Coran had let it slip that he'd talk to Keith. Keith's level of attachment to Lance couldn't be doubted, but there was something more to it that left Shiro uneasy. Keith had grown up before his eyes. The man he'd become one that any parent or friend could be proud of, yet when it came to Lance, Keith lost all rational thought and that was what scared him. His brother had been right before him, splattered with blood and debris, screaming for Lance instead of worrying about the numerous injuries he was sporting. There was no way Keith could have helped Lance. Not with the way he was, yet he would have kept marching right down the road to self implosion if Shiro hadn't had him forcibly removed. Taking a deep breath in, he reminded himself that "patience yields focus", permitting himself a few seconds to calm his own anxieties over Lance. He cared for him, even though they hardly talked anymore. Something that he bitterly regretted, especially being front row to one Lance's panic attacks. They'd taken such a bright and bubbly young man, and left him so deeply scarred. He'd never forgive himself, hence why he came down personally to assist in the battle. Not that Curtis was too pleased, yet his boyfriend knew better than to argue. All the fellow ex-Paladins felt like children to him. The moniker "space dad", meant more to him then he liked to let on. "Hunk, what's happening down there?" "We've managed to make a path to the side of the ship. Their numbers are dropping. Where's Keith?" "He's been taken back to the Atlas" "And Lance?" The hope in Hunk's voice hurt. It'd been hardest to tell Hunk that Lance was missing. Hunk hadn't understood at all, nor was able to understand why Lance hadn't told him anything about having a bounty on his head, or how life threatening his line of work was. Both Keith's and Lance's words rang around his mind as he tried to explain to Hunk that everything would be alright "Still unaccounted for. Keith isn't sure if he's on board, or if he was thrown during the crash" "Oh no..." Hunk went straight into internal meltdown mode "Shiro, you should get down here, the scanner's reading human blood" That was never a good thing, not Lance missing and Keith badly wounded "Heading to you" Backtracking down the slope of debris, Coran's bright orange hair cutting through the field of his people taking the group of attackers into custody. Slowing to wait for the man, Coran was spluttering as he finally reached him. Drawing a breath, he dabbed at his brow, attempting to collect himself. There was blood smeared across his hands that he hadn't seemed to notice "Is it Keith?" Clearing his throat, Coran pointed his communicator, doing something weird with his eyebrows. Coran's version of covert wasn't always... covert or conveyed what he was trying to say. Thankfully he'd pointed to his communicator. Pressing it to mute again, Coran nodded. It didn't matter how many years that had passed, Shiro wasn't sure he'd ever truly understand Coran, despite the respect he held for the man "Is Keith...?" "No, no. He's been taken aboard to the Atlas for treatment" "Then this is about Lance?" "Keith was quite agitated. Insisting about that I be there for Lance" Shiro sighed to himself. Keith needed to be worried about himself. Lance was strong, and wouldn't go down without a fight... Then again, these were the people responsible for torturing him "Coran, is there something more I should know? About Lance?" Coran hummed, looking pretty suspicious "Coran?" "No. No. It's better the boys work this out for themselves... I am quite worried for Lance. This is an Altean prison ship. I haven't seen one of those in over 10 thousand years" There was something he hadn't expected to hear. Coran never spoke of the "other side" of Altea, only the love and passion Alfor had for his people "Prison ship?" "Pop-pop Wimbledon never liked working on them... Always warned me to stay away from them. Nasty business. Best we find young Lance as soon as possible" Coran was still holding something back, but Hunk chose that particular moment to let out a cry of panic, drawing their attention to Shiro's comms. Shiro of all people knew how strong Hunk was, he was the first to decide he was heading down to help planetside, despite having chosen to drop out of action in favour of uniting the Galaxy through food "We need to get down there" Taking himself off mute, Veronica was still rambling into his ear, or rather Veronica was now filling the channel demanding from Hunk an update on her brother. The comment about blood only served to anger her more, especially since Shiro had ordered her to stay behind on the Atlas with Curtis, who just as unimpressed. Yes, there were others who could go, but when it came to Lance and Keith, things were personal. Following the glowing dot on his comms that marked Hunk's location, Shiro understood why Coran's grandfather was hesitant to work on prisoners ships. It was eerie passing pod after pod filled with prisoners, who seemed so old and brittle that opening the glass doors would kill them. Having an anxious Coran by his side didn't help matters when the man kept wringing his hands and jumping at his own shadow. There had to be hundreds of people aboard the ship... which meant hundreds of pages of paperwork. His head gave a throb, threatening him with the inevitable headache it would all lead to. Drawing closer to the dot, came the sound of battle. Blaster shots soon lighting up the corridor they were in, as Hunk yelled something garbled through the comms. Ducking to the side, Shiro looked to Coran who nodded, before shadowing the wall to the end of the hall. Turning back to tell Coran to watch his back, he found the Altean gone... Coran's ability to locationally challenge himself was only rivalled by Keith's. Great. Now he had two people to worry about. Peeking around the corner of the corridor, there was what seemed to be a purple alien firing on Hunk and his team, forcing them to take coverage behind a twisted piece of wall. Given whoever was firing at them was a conscious and sentient body, Hunk would be hesitant over pulling the trigger and hurting them. Shiro... not quite so much. Dropping to the floor, he looked through the scope of the blaster and frowning at the figure shooting. They were clearly Altean... "Shiro, what do we do?" "Take her alive. She's Altean" "If she's Altean, shouldn't she on our side?" "Coran informed this is a prison ship. She may be an escaped prisoner" "There's bad Altean's?! When did this happen?! Why did no body tell me there were bad Altean's?" "It's not the first time we've come across them" No. They'd come across them aboard the ship connecting this reality with an alternate one. Was it possible this ship was from an alternate reality? Though he couldn't rule it, neither could confirm it. Veronica's voice broke through the chain of thought "Hostiles have entered orbit, scrambling MFE pilots" "Understood" Shiro couldn't help but be slightly scared of Lance's sister. They looked so much alike, yet Veronica gave voice to things Lance never would "Shiro, man, what do we do? I don't want to just shoot her" "I'll take the shot, be ready to move in and restrain her" Hunk mumbled something about "thanking god", the man really too kind for their own good. Lining up the shot, Shiro fired, piercing the woman in her left shoulder. Clutching the wound and screaming, Hunk's team moved forward to take the stranger into custody. One down. One to go. Backtracking to where he'd last seen Coran, Shiro scanned the space. There were two corridors fairly close to the intersection, either could have been taken. Going with his gut, he turned down the corridor that ran off the side his back was too. Knowing Coran, it was possible he'd thought that was why they'd stopped... Following down the corridor, it was filled with more pods. Some occupants not so lucky as they laid at the foot of the now empty pods dead or impaled on broke glass. Moving stealthily and scoping the area as he did, he swapped his blasters scope to search for heat signatures, the only way he could think to locate Coran. He knew from personal experience how cold a long stint in a pod tended to leave a person. Picking up several fires, he found a human blob shaped figure another three corridors down. For a man well over ten thousand, he had to give it to Coran. The man could certainly move when it came to getting himself lost. Picking up his pace, he relied on his blasters scope to search for threats as he jogged through the twisted ship. Making it to the room the heat signature was coming from, the door was already wide open. Kneeling on the floor was Coran, Lance cradled in his arms as he held him close. If Keith had been bad... Lance was... "Veronica, we have Lance. He needs urgent medical attention" "Keith was just placed into our pod" One would have thought they would have added to the number of pods on board, but running very different missions than they had on Voltron, and running a ship with a full staff, they simply hadn't needed to expand. The most they dealt with were the very few wounds taken from foreign fire, and the occasional broke bone. Standing there, it seemed to him that Lance had broken every bone. His body far too limp, and the glow in his cheeks were barely there. Pulling himself together, Shiro strode over to the pair, kneeling on Lance's other side "Has he said anything?" "He asked for Keith. He passed out again straight after" Of course Lance was asking for Keith. The pair were as bad as each other "I'll take him" "No, no. I promised Keith I would" Shiro had the height and strength advantage, but Coran had the heartbreaking look in his eyes. Lance had always been like an adopted son to the man, always there to lend a hand or listen to Coran confuse himself as he spoke on and on about days long gone "Coran, I'll carry him. I know you're worried, but we need to get him urgent medical attention" Reaching for Lance's neck to reassure himself the younger man did indeed have a pulse the moment his fingers touched the soft curve, Lance jolted up in Coran's arms, screaming his head off and trying to fight against him. Though that was more like a worm wriggling than actually doing anything "Lance..." Coran interrupted him. Shiro was getting pretty fed up with being interrupted at this point "Lance, Lance. You're ok my boy. Keith sent me. Keith asked me to find you. He's ok. He's..." Keith's name calmed Lance enough for him to stop screaming and swap to babbling "He needs a pod. Keith needs a pod. He... stabbed him... he needs help... please... you have to put him in a pod... he can't die... he can't..." Hushing Lance, Coran lifted him as he stood, wobbling slightly as he did. Crying out in pain, tears rolled down the Cuban's face as he whimpered out Keith's name. As horrible as it was, Shiro could only pray that Lance would pass out again before they reached the pod that would evac him to safety.