#i actually remembered to sensor the swears unlike last time-

[project-isles]

More incorrect aga quotes

freddy: What’s it like being tall?

chica: Is it nice?

goldie: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

bonnie: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

bonnie: sees someone doing something stupid

bonnie: What an idiot.

bonnie: realizes it's goldie

bonnie: Wait, that's MY idiot!

goldie: Guys, I have a question.

freddy: kys ❤️

goldie: I love you too.

chica: Ah, yes. Siblings.

bonnie: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on goldie without them noticing?

freddy: Hey, goldie, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny.

goldie: takes and swallows tracker Pay up, loser.

bonnie: …

bonnie: Someone take me to art museums and make out with me.

goldie: But they said not to touch the masterpieces.

bonnie: Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall.

chica, on a walkie talkie: This is chica, those idiots are f***ing around in the East wing again.

goldie, sweating: bonnie, there’s something I need to ask you-

bonnie: Finally! You’re proposing!

goldie: How’d you know?

bonnie: goldie, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

bonnie: I even picked it up once.

freddy: What do you have?

goldie: A KNIFE!

freddy: NO!

foxy: Are you an ‘arr’ pirate or a ‘yo ho ho’ pirate?

TB: I’m a ‘I’m not paying $600 for photoshop’ pirate.

freddy: Oh, they left the bowl out?

freddy: It says, “Take two pieces of candy.”

goldie: Nobody around though…

goldie grabs the entire bowl and runs off with it

freddy: NO—

goldie: Oh gosh I wish I got more sleep I only got six hours!

mangle: Six? I only got three!

mari: You guys got sleep?

freddy, comes stumbling out of their room and grabs a jug of coffee before saying: What year is it??

freddy: Just be yourself. Say something nice.

goldie: Which one? I can't do both.

goldie: Reading a letter

mari: Well, what does it say?

goldie: It’s a confession letter. It turns out Finn killed my pet rock.

foxy: Go to sleep or you'll hate yourself in the morning!

Freddy: I'll hate myself in the morning regardless.

chica: When's the last time you slept?

freddy: Uh… a few days ago, I think.

chica: A few- how many?!

freddy: Uh… starts counting on fingers I need more fingers…

chica: What you need is sleep!

freddy: I'm feeling it! What am I feeling? Death, probably.

freddy: What is wrong with you?

goldie: Many, many things…

goldie: And most of them are your f***ing fault.

mari: Heyyy freddy, how’s your… drink??

freddy: What do you mean drink? It’s coffee.

mari: You sure?? Looks to coffee maker

freddy: Looks to coffee maker

Cement sitting beside the coffee maker

freddy:…I’m on my third f***ing drink right now, I should be dead.

mari: Hey, goldie, where are you going?

goldie: Well, it depends. When I die, probably hell.

goldie: But right now I’m going to McDonald’s.

mangle: Comparing goldie and freddy is like comparing apples and oranges.

goldie: We’re both unique in our own ways?

mangle: Apples are superior in every way and all oranges should be eliminated.

freddy: Which one of us is the orange?

goldie: Good morning. As you begin your day, remember that violence is always an option and often the answer.

finn:

goldie:

finn: …Please, go back to bed.

goldie: closes a cabinet

a crash is heard behind the cabinet door

mari: What was that?

goldie: The sound of someone else's problem.

goldie: You f****** don’t know about my knife stick. It’s a knife taped to a stick and it’s the ultimate weapon.

freddy: Spear.

goldie: BLOCKED.

mangle: Why are you two always out during rainstorms?

freddy: It’s so peaceful and refreshing. I love the smell of rain.

goldie: foxy bet me I couldn’t get struck by lighting, but they’re WRONG.

bonnie and freddy playing minecraft

bonnie: Oh no, oh no, oh no-

freddy: What’s wrong?

bonnie: I did a thing.

freddy: You regret the thing you dID-

bonnie: screams

freddy: What the f*** did you do- sees mass of aggravated Piglin Damn it-

bonnie: screams again

goldie: I prevented a murder today.

bonnie: Really? That’s amazing! How did you do that?

goldie: Self-control.

freddy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB F***!

goldie: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

[c-is-for-circinate]

So uh, would the end of runs count as an escalation of the abuse? Like Ik it's a last resort to stop Zagreus from leaving, but it also shows that he has no qualms with hurting Zag to get what he wants.

I definitely had not yet gotten to the end of a run when you sent this ask, nonny, and I was all set to scold you gently for spoilery stuff, but you were actually trying very hard to be nonspecific and this only pinged as a spoiler because I was already pretty sure how things were going to end anyway.  So good job trying to be vague!  I have now fought through to what is fairly clearly the final boss, and my answer is, categorically, ABSOLUTELY FUCKING YES.

(We are going to just keep putting Hades posts under cuts until they stop being about a parent abusing their kid! I realize this helps nobody on mobile and I am tagging for that purpose but hey, at least I might save someone's dash! I swear I will talk about other things in this game eventually! Until then, once again, CW abuse.)

It’s not even about the violence, entirely.  Like, yes, it’s about the violence--but Hades has shown all along that he has no qualms with hurting Zag (with killing him, over and over again) to get what he wants.  Even if we take most of the enemies we’re facing as general nuisances of the zones we travel through, and not Hades’ doing (and oh, if Hades wanted he could give Zagreus a safe escort through those zones in an instant), there are obstacles put in our way that are obviously and deliberately commanded by Hades to stop us at all costs.  The level bosses, for one.  (Also, remember the Hades voiceovers we get at every ‘survive for 45 seconds’ level?)  He wants us to stop.  He wants us to die, and yes we’ll come back, but he’s still setting his employees to hurt us, so like, that’s very much a thing to begin with.

The fact that he’s willing to take up arms against us and kill us himself probably feels like a big escalation to Hades personally.  What really gets me is the dialogue.  “I have always kept my temper, unlike you.”  Wildly revisionist history, placing all of the blame for what’s about to happen on Zagreus the victim for ‘making me do this’. The absolute disgust and disdain, when he finally gets us.  “I have slain titans, boy.”  He’s spent a lot of time throwing scathing remarks in our general direction, wanting us to bow under them, being blandly sarcastic and self-satisfied and smug, but he's never sounded like that.

Because, before now, he thought we couldn’t do what we set out to do.  He thought our suffering as we tried was its own punishment, and he enjoyed watching that punishment.  He did not watch us fail with the affectionate resignation of a parent watching a child learn a harsh lesson.  He watched us and gloated. 

The thing that infuriates him now is not that we’re trying to do the thing we literally said we were trying to do ninety-eight runs ago at the start of the game.  He could have stopped us from trying at any time.  Hypnos to put us to sleep.  Literal chains.  Had he bothered for five seconds to actually step into the courtyard beyond our room, we could be disarmed and helpless.  But it’s fun for him to watch us fail, and it proves that he’s right about us and how pathetic we are, and it reassures him that he’s right about the universe, that nobody can escape from Hades, that we are stupid and foolish and weak.  What drives him to such absolute fury now is not that we’re trying, but the fact that we’re about to succeed.  We’re going to prove him wrong, prove that he was wrong about how he handled this situation in the first place, and that’s flatly unacceptable. 

There is no interpretation of this fight that does not include Hades wanting us to feel inferior, subjugated, crushed.  It’s not about keeping us in his realm.  It’s about breaking us, for daring to try to escape in the first place.

No matter why he’s doing it.  And let’s get into that for a sec, the “it’s a last resort to stop Zagreus from leaving” bit.  At this point in the game, I don’t know why Hades is so desperate to stop Zag from leaving.  I haven’t found out yet!  Don’t tell me!  Don’t hint about it!  But from where I’m standing, I can see, hmm, five main possibilities?

He is trying to protect Zagreus from something on the surface.

He is trying to protect the world from Zagreus, whose arrival out of hell will destroy something/everything in some magic way that Hades knows about but keeps secret.

Zagreus is actually a prisoner, meant to be chained in the Underworld for crimes he doesn’t remember committing, Tisiphone is right, and we were meant to be as condemned as Sisyphus all along but Hades has been generous.

Hades made it law a long time ago that nobody and nothing escapes the Underworld, and Zagreus cannot be allowed to break that law because nobody breaks Hades’ laws, period.  He could have chosen to make an exception but he did not, so all of this is flagrantly illegal and needs to be punished.

Hades himself is trapped in the Underworld, or at least feels that way, and is projecting and taking it out on his kid.

My best guess is that it’s some combination of a few of those (like, I am fairly sure that #5 is absolutely true no matter what other reasons are in place as well).  Thing is?  While I’m curious about this mystery for the story’s sake, I also really fundamentally do not care.

Any one of these things could better have been accomplished by telling Zagreus literally anything.  Even if there’s magic and prophecy bullshit binding Hades away from explaining the whole truth, it is not hard to hint at vague disaster befalling innocent bystanders “because of cosmic reasons I am beholden to keep secret”.  Hell, Hades’ own life becomes easier if he restrains himself just the tiniest bit in an effort to make Zagreus not want to leave in the first place.  Hades clearly does not want this to be happening!  He doesn’t seem to regret any of his actions, but he sure is annoyed and infuriated that he has to go through the trouble of doing them.  Literally one explanation could solve so much.

If the reason is to protect Zagreus?  Then it is one thousand times bullshit, and I think the game knows that.  (The game has to know that.)  When your kid is so miserable that they’d rather flee straight into traffic to escape you, then your kid is not safe.  Nothing that could hurt him on the surface--finding out that Persephone doesn’t love him and never did and in fact wants him dead and tortured for eternity--is any worse than what he’s facing down here.  He already knows one parent feels that way.  At least out of the Underworld he has the option to find some relatives who don’t.

And yet this situation doesn’t ping the “stupid plot that could never happen because it entirely rests on unrealistically shitty communication” sensors.  Because it absolutely, categorically makes sense for the Hades we’ve come to know to refuse to explain himself.  Whether he’s got good reasons or bad ones, HIS WORD IS LAW, and how dare anybody ask him to justify or clarify it, ever.

I am very very sure that Hades has lots of reasons: reasons for being furious, and bitter, and for making rules about his son never leaving the Underworld, and for being so desperate to enforce those rules, and for all of it.  Some of them may even be good.  What makes him an abuser, what those reasons do not and cannot justify, is the verbal and physical violence he uses against the people in his care to cope with those problems.

[julemmaes]

Today is World Autism Awareness Day

And my dear lady here (@tyherondaletrash) had the amazing idea of writing something Ty related to make this day special for her favourite baby boy, so we asked a few people if the cared to join our project and about twenty people answered our call. We posted fanarts and one shots and edits and headcanons (you can find them all here).

I hope you enjoy my part as much as I enjoyed reading the others and starring at the drawings cause we put ourselves into this.

Word count: 3,308

It was one of the coldest winter days ever in Los Angeles.

That afternoon it had even rained for a few minutes and the Blackthorns, who had gone out for a walk on the beach, had to run to seek shelter and by the time they reached the Institute they were completely soaked.

Julian had forced Tavvy to go take a shower, seeing that his younger brother had already planned to sprawl on the first free couch and sit there all evening, and Cristina had to drag her boyfriend Mark and Emma up the stairs, who had begun to jump into the puddle of mud and sand that had created at the entrance. Kieran had shaken his head, but his girlfriend had noticed the amused smile that had hovered over his lips before he mumbled Shadowhunters whispering, watching the two blondes in the group.

Ty had moved almost immediately, avoiding the splashes, but Kit and Dru, who had complained all the way to their rooms, had not been as careful and had spotted legs, which made Emma laugh satisfied. Although, almost an hour later, when the trio walked by the entrance, they saw her cleaning the floor, swearing against Julian that he must have told her something about setting a good example. Luckily, Mark was there with her, so at least she could complain to someone.

Ty, being careful not to trip over the bucket of dirty water, headed to the salon, where they would have had a party that same night. He didn’t realize that Kit and Dru were lagging behind, but he heard voices become more distant and realized that he was alone.

A large group of Shadowhunters would have arrived to investigate the unusual demonic activity that had been reported at the foot of the mountains, and Ty, who was among the first to gather information about what was happening, would have helped during the missions.

He entered the main hall and was surprised. Cold-colored tents came down from the windows like waterfalls and the tables, strategically positioned on either side of the room to give space to a dance floor, had already been set.

Cristina was giving orders right and left to the staff, with a crumpled sheet in her hand, and Julian was helping Kieran move a black piano to the center of the room.

His brother saw him and with a shake of the hand made him sign to approach. "Would you help us out?" Julian asked, arranging the bench so that it would be ready for anyone who would play that night. Ty nodded and continued to watch the blue and violet rustles hanging from every wall. "We have to put a viola and two violins and they’re all still in the music room, so could you go?"

Kieran looked at Julian with an expression that seemed slightly frightened, "Don’t forget the-"

"The guitar, Ty!" cried Cristina across the room. The voice resounded throughout the institute. All three guys winced. "Julian the guitar! Please, they have specified it so many times." The girl seemed exasperated and even though she had just showered, it looked like she had just finished running a marathon from how sweaty she was.

"I still don’t understand why musicians shouldn’t carry their instruments with them, but okay." Emma said behind his back, taking him by surprise.

"No questions asked, Emma, let’s be good hosts and give them a guitar." Cristina retorted approaching the group, who was waiting for orders to be given. "We’ve already ruined the surprise of the party, the least we can do is satisfy a few small requests."

"I’m going to get it." Ty announced, starting to walk away.

Kit followed him without thinking it twice, "I’m coming with you."

Cristina had already started giving other directions, "Mark, there should be other boxes in the library, you think about those. Dru, go call Tavvy, everyone has to help. Julian, Emma..." the girl’s voice got lost in the hall.

"So? How are you feeling?" Kit asked, looking at him sideways.

"How do I feel about what?" asked Ty sincerely confused, not understanding what his friend was referring to.

They had found each other again almost a year earlier and the meeting was sudden and completely unexpected. They had solved their problems in a simple way, even though the emotions in play weren’t, at all, and now they were in a limbo that even Ty could not decipher and this sometimes put him under stress, because he did not know how to behave in the presence of the other.

"For the party tonight." answered Kit, "I, um, I remember you didn’t like being in crowded places." he said scratching his forearm.

"Oh." whispered Ty. "I guess it’ll be quiet. There won’t be many people and the music will be more classical, considering the choice of musicians." he opened the door of the music room, taking two long steps towards the part where they kept the string instruments.

"Wow. I didn’t know you had so many instruments here. I’ve never seen any of you play." exclaimed the blonde.

"Emma’s father tried to teach her how to play the violin when she was little, but she wasn’t good at it, and she never tried again." Ty replied, taking the only guitar that was there. "We Blackthorns have always had other hobbies." He saw Kit nodding, as he tried to look everywhere but at the figure of Ty. They returned to the main hall in silence.

They finished fixing everything and then Helen, who had spent the last hours checking that every room had the necessary with Aline, sent everyone to get ready and announced that the guests would arrive a half hour later. Anyone who wanted could go with her to welcome them when they would arrive through the portal and Ty saw with some relief that even Dru seemed little inclined to the idea.

He had changed and wore a pair of elegant black pants accompanied by a simple white shirt. Dru had passed by a few minutes before proposing he wears a tie, but he had decided not to wear it. He was wearing black shoes, and the whole thing made him even more handsome than usual. Not that Ty cared much, he only did it because Aline threatened them all in case they ruined "her wife’s party," as she called it.

He was going down the stairs when he heard the noise of dozens of feet slamming on the floor. Well, the guests had arrived. He began to open and close his fists. He forgot to take his headphones, and it was too late to come back, because Mark was making weird hand gestures to tell him to join them.

He arrived at the entrance where Julian was helping the last Shadowhunter out of the portal to stabilize. The girl had a pale face and looked about to throw up so Ty looked away, focusing on a movement that had caught his eye in the garden. He approached the window overlooking the desert, but saw nothing suspicious and after a few more seconds of observation decided that there were no animals or demons around the Institute, and that the sensors were working.

The introductions began, and he would just nod his head to anyone. He had noticed that most were young, as it was meant to be, but there was a particularly high number of adults. Normally in these missions they sent the kids with little experience and only one or two with a few more years of fighting behind, to supervise the situation.

Unusual, Ty thought, thinking about asking his brother Julian if they had discovered something that he had missed.

A good part of the guests had arrived a few minutes before and some were already dressed for dinner, with elegant clothes and lavish shoes. It wasn’t every day the Los Angeles Institute was dyed a thousand colors. In the midst of all the whips and hairstyles he could see the rag of concealed weapons.

He felt a hand resting on his shoulder and turned to find Kit smiling at him, his eyes sparkling, "You look handsome dressed like this." Ty looked at him and saw that they wore the same clothes, only that Kit had decided to wear a blue tie that surprisingly captured the color of his eyes.

"You too." he allowed himself to say, and Kit’s smile widened.

"Come on, before these cockroaches invade our house and steal all our food." the blond said whispering, pushing him towards the hall, from where a slight melody came.

Ty was about to correct him, but a voice behind them preceded him, "Actually, it’s the locusts that invade places, but, yes, we should hurry." Dru gave them both a broad smile and Ty greeted her with his hand, smiling in turn. She was wearing a dress with long sleeves of a dark grey and very simple.

Kit snorted, "Yeah, whatever."

When they entered the room, the atmosphere was quite different from what it had been a few hours before, when Cristina was about to have a nervous breakdown. The girl was now arranging the last place cards on the tables, but unlike before, she now had a completely relaxed expression and seemed to float with that cream dress of hers.

Ty seemed to start accusing the noise, the absence of headphones on his head was heavier than when he was wearing them. He put his hand in his pocket, hoping to find one of Julian’s games, but it was empty. He felt his back stiffen, trying to focus on the music and the people that were playing. The melody immediately overwhelmed him, but he kept hearing people’s chatter and mumbling, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t isolate that roar.

He was going to turn around, go back up to his room and get his headphones, a book, anything to distract himself, when he saw Dru stop beside him and her features hardened.

When she spoke, she sounded threatening, "What is she doing here?" Kit and Ty followed her gaze to the table that was closest to the windows.

There, between four girls the two of them had never seen, was Paige Ashdown. And she was looking at them head-to-toe with a grimace of disgust on her lips. She turned to her friends and when they turned around again they all had an amused face.

"She’s part of the LA community, Dru. Helen told me that the other families in the city would come too." Ty replied, murmuring, as if he were afraid that Paige might hear him, looking at a flickering leaf of one of the centerpieces.

"Who is she?" Kit asked, squinting his eyes, trying to remember if that face was familiar.

"Paige Ashdown." Emma answered behind them. Dru jumped lightly, holding a hand to her chest and Kit cursed softly. But Emma was focused on Ty, a look that said ‘don’t touch my family or I’ll kill you’ in her eyes, "If she tells you anything, you tell me and I’ll take care of it."

Ty knew that taking care of something didn’t really mean that she would take care of that, and that it was actually a way of saying that she would beat her or kick her out of the Institute, but that thought wasn’t enough to calm him down.

He took a step back to the door, trying to talk. He didn’t like being stared at, and right now he felt five pairs of eyes burning on him.

The voices had become even louder. He cleared his voice and said, "Sorry, I forgot to take something. I’ll be right back."

He heard Kit call for him, but he did not turn around and quickly got past the people still crowded at the entrance who were heading very slowly to their rooms.

He opened the door of his room, slammed it, and ran in, grabbing the headphones and starting the music, and with his other hand he looked for his ball of rope in the drawer.

He was taking deep breaths while playing with the ball and when in his head it seemed to him that there was enough order he decided that he could go back down, but he would not enter the salon, no. He had to go out and get some fresh air.

He reached the edge of the desert and had almost completely calmed down, when he saw something moving behind one of the bushes in their garden. He snuck up, tried to make as little noise as possible, and avoided scaring any kind of animal that was hidden there.

The tail that sprouted from behind the leaves was very similar to that of a fox, but the color was more reminiscent of that typical of the coyotes. It couldn’t have been Irene, because it was too thick and not spotted.

"It’s a kit fox."

Ty nearly jumped up in the air like Dru did mere minutes before. He turned around and brought a hand to his belt, clenching his fist on a dagger. The sudden movement frightened the fox, that with two quick sprint was already running in the desert, away from Ty.

The girl who spoke, who Ty recognized almost immediately, covered her mouth to hold a giggle, "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I always feel sick when I travel by portal and when I went out to get some air, it was near the entrance." she said referring to the fox. She sat on the ground and hher long, blond hair was left loose. Ty found himself thinking that Emma’s were much more beautiful, more alive, but he relaxed, taking his hand off the knife and bending over to pick up the ball that he had dropped.

"What’s your name?" she asked him, sitting on the rock with her hands between her knees. She had a vague French accent, but it wasn’t as pronounced as you’d expect from a native speaker, she was probably raised in America, like him.

"I am Tiberius Blackthorn." He answered, looking at the dry land in front of him, hoping that the fox would come back and let him come near it.

"Oh, you’re Julian and Helen’s brother." she smiled.

Ty nodded, "And Drusilla, Mark and Octavian’s."

"Sure." she giggled.

"What’s your name?" Ty asked standing in front of her. Aline would surely scold him if he soiled his pants before dinner.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m Cléa Dubois."

Ty looked at her for a moment, nodding, and then, in a quieter tone, he confessed, "I had never seen a kit fox near here."

"Macrotis vulpes." she basically blurted out. Ty turned surprised towards her. "It’s not so common around here, it’s more likeable to be found in central Mexico and inland, not so close to the LA coast." Ty noticed that she was blushing, and was certain that the girl was embarrassed when she started playing with the ring on her middle finger.

"It’s strange that it’s in this area. It’s also mating period, it really shouldn’t be here." This time it was Ty who spoke and, even though he wasn’t looking at Cléa, he noticed that she had stopped fidgeting.

"Do you like animals too?" she asked with hope.

The boy kept looking at the landscape, "I love them."

"Oh, lucky me. I get unbearable when I start talking about stupid canids and birds of strange colors and-"

Cléa couldn’t finish the sentence, because Ty interrupted her, maybe a little abrupt, "They’re not stupid." He started playing with the ball again, a frown formed between his eyebrows, "This just got lost."

The girl blinked a couple of times, surprised by the tone of the other. "I- Yes, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend the canids. They’re my favorite family of mammals." She tried to clarify, "For real, sorry."

Seeing that Ty did not answer, she didn’t speak anymore, and the silence that arose was a bit tense, but they both seemed to enjoy the desolate desert that extended before them.

They stayed there and after a few minutes Ty heard someone call his name. He turned in time to see Kit running in his direction, with wheezing breath and a worried expression on his face.

"Where the hell have you been?" he panted, "We’ve been looking for you for 20 minutes."

Ty imagined that ‘we’ includeed all his siblings, "I’m sorry." he said sincerely. "I went to my room to get the headphones and then I went out, I didn’t realize it had been so long."

Kit rubbed his hand on his face, sighing loudly, but then Cléa sneezed so hard that the blond jumped into the air, practically flying in front of Ty to protect him from any lurking danger.

The girl burst into laughter and even Ty found himself smiling in front of Kit’s terrified face.

"And you are?" Kit asked slightly relieved that he didn’t have to fight some weird demon.

"Nice to meet you, Cléa Dubois. You’re Christopher, aren’t you?" Kit nodded, always with frowny eyebrows.

"How do you know him?" Ty asked, moving from behind the friend, to be seen by the girl.

"I am very interested in everything that concerns fairies." she said in a flat tone, getting up and cleaning her hands on her jeans. "So I was surprised when I found out your story. You’re the reason I came here, actually."

It was Ty’s turn to stand in front of Kit. He felt his friend’s hand resting on his back. There were only a handful of people who knew about the lost heir, and the fact that this unknown girl knew about his whole story was concerning.

"And what exactly do you want to do to me?" threatened Kit.

Cléa seemed confused, "I’m not trying to intimidate you. I want to help you."

The hand on Ty’s back slipped away.

The boy could not understand, but before he could ask for anything else, Cléa interrupted him, "But we will talk about it in a… safer place, maybe even with the others. For tonight, I’d rather eat something warm and talk about animals with you, if that’s okay." she first turned to Kit and then to Ty, and with that friendly smile, she went inside.

"Now, I’m afraid." Kit bit.

Ty hadn’t really heard him, he was still too focused on the girl, too upset to understand if she was a threath or not. And yet, when he spoke, he said the thing that made him trust her more, "She likes canids."

Kit moved in front of him, with an eyebrow raised. "What?"

"We met a kit fox." said Ty, with his eyes glimmering. "She knew what animal it was. I don’t think she’s bad."

"And so, if she likes dogs, she can’t be totally evil, you say?" Kit started heading up the stairs.

Ty followed him, reaching him in a short time, "She likes all canids, not just dogs. And the two things are barely connected. Why can’t a serial killer or a super villain like dogs?"

"I was just saying. Do you want to go to dinner?" Kit asked as they entered the warmth of the Institute, the voices already too loud even for the blonde’s taste.

Ty shook his head, "Let’s get some food and go to the roof. I don’t want to see Paige."

"I’d warn Julian first." Kit said walking towards the hall, then stopped and turned to Ty with an amused smile, "Do you want me to call the dog lady?"

"No, I’d rather be with you." the black-haired boy answered sincerely.

Kit nodded and Ty thought that yes, Cléa would have to wait the next day to dump the mess that was their lives on him.

@tyherondaletrash @clara-sm @can-god-strike-me-down @tessaherongraystairs @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @jamescordelias @grxceblqckthxrn @thecerridwen @stitch-kiss @alastairlightwxod @ahiretsinging @allofmywonders @tremendousheadachecollector @tlh-tea @taco-taco-belle @city-of-fae @ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes @thomascarstairsx @alastaircarstairsx @fair-y-child @matthew-herondale @thomaslightwoodx

[sad-goomy]

what is probably the first in a series of vignettes of older!lonashipping in Galar because self control? don’t know her :)

featuring appearances from Magnolia, Sonia, and Leon! no spoilers for SwSh

Gladion knows that Moon is relatively good friends with Galar’s Champion.

It doesn’t make it any less strange to see in person.

They decide to start their vacation in Wedgehurst, because Gladion is fascinated by the Dynamax research Professor Magnolia has done (and it’ll be his only work-related activity, he swears), and Moon is just excited to see Leon before he goes off to prepare for the battle season. Even a few days before the opening ceremony, he only has time to visit for tea on their third and final afternoon in Wedgehurst.

As Magnolia goes over her sensor’s most recent readings at various power spots, Gladion listening intently and making a few notes on his tablet, Moon sets up tea in the kitchen, brewing a pot and laying out the snacks that Sonia bought that morning. She has a small smile on her face as she hums a rhythmless tune, excitement radiating off her to the point that Gladion pauses, watching her for a minute with his own smile tugging up a corner of his lips.

“–and I’d go on but you’re a wee bit distracted.”

Gladion flinches, turning to see Professor Magnolia giving him a smirk, and he tries not to wilt sheepishly at being caught. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize,” she says, waving off the very notion with a hand before she continues with a pleased hum, “It’s lovely to see. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were married.”

He pales, fumbling with the tablet in his hands as he tries not to drop it, clearing his throat. Magnolia’s eyes widen a fraction, and she’s quick to give his arm a pat as she shakes her head. “I don’t mean anything by it, dear. You two are still young, no need to worry yourselves over things like that.”

Too late, Gladion thinks to himself, because he knows that tucked away in his suitcase, buried under a pile of folded shirts, is a velvet ring box that he’s had for months now; he bought it the same day that Moon first brought up that she was thinking about marriage. They’ve since both agreed that they’d like to get married, and Gladion knows this, and he thinks about it constantly, and yet every time he thinks he’ll propose, he psyches himself out. He packed the ring for no real reason, considering he hasn’t exactly planned anything for a proposal during their trip, but even just a week in it has him on high alert, suddenly itching to drop to one knee despite the Butterfree still in his belly.

With a firmer grip on his tablet, and avoiding the professor’s eyes, he mumbles, “We’ve, uh, actually been talking about it. No set plans, though.”

“Well then I expect a wedding invite in the future – consider it payment for our little lessons.”

He chuckles, a faint blush on his cheeks as they go back to the readings, though it’s considerably harder for him to focus now with things like weddings, proposals, and Moon knocking around in his head.

It’s probably for the best, then, that they’re interrupted just a few minutes later by the door opening, Sonia’s Yamper yipping as he runs in, Sonia herself following behind as she declares, “Delivery for my favorite Champion.”

Leon’s figure fills the doorway, and Gladion realizes that while Moon has been around him at conferences, he’s never actually seen the Galar Champion in person. He cuts an intimidating figure, broad shoulders made all the broader by the fur on his cape, and the flame of the large Charizard still in the yard gives him a bit of a halo.

For a brief second, Gladion is impressed.

But then Leon’s face pulls into a pout, and his voice is pitched and petulant as he whines, “Aww, but Sonia...”

The young woman in question rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling all the same. “You’re a close second, if it’s any consolation.”

“You’re my second favorite Champion, too.”

Moon smirks at the two by the door, arms crossed. Leon’s grin grows as he throws open his arms, laughing, “C’mere you bully!”

She does, throwing her arms around him in a hug as the two mention how long it’s been since they’ve last spoken, how they’ve missed each other, and Gladion has to keep from snorting at the sight. Moon is 5’2” on a good day, and Leon’s got a solid foot on her, engulfing her in their hug.

Sonia goes to pull up another chair to the kitchen table, Magnolia walking over to take a seat as Gladion sets down his tablet and heads towards the pair. His footsteps draw Leon’s attention, who smiles at him as he extends a hand. “Gladion, right?”

He nods, shaking Leon’s hand as Moon steps to his side. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Same here – you're a proper legend at Battle Royals.”

Gladion blinks, more than a little surprised that the Galar Champion has even heard of Battle Royals, much less actually seen a match. Alola doesn’t broadcast them internationally, but when he looks to Moon to share his confusion, she’s instead sheepish.

“I may have forced him to watch all the matches I had recorded on my phone.”

“It was a lot,” Leon adds somberly, eyes lost in a memory before he blinks out of it, a fire in his eyes as he smirks. “She also tells me all about what you do at Aether, but if I’m being honest mate, I can’t make heads or tails of it. Sounds impressive, though.”

Moon laughs, and when Gladion looks down at her, she gives him a shrug and smile. “I brag about you a lot at those conferences, but it’s your fault for making it easy.”

And the way she says it, so simple and earnest and warm...Arceus, should he just go get the ring from his luggage right now?

Leon snaps him out of his thoughts, though, clenching a fist as his eyes ignite. “We have to organize a Battle Royal; I’ve been thinking up some strategies and–”

Magnolia clears her throat, drawing the trio’s attention to the table where she sits next to Sonia, who’s watching them with an amused twinkle in her eye and a cookie in her mouth. As the professor finishes pouring herself a cup of tea, pausing in adding a sugar cube to chide, “If you must battle, at least wait until after I’ve had my tea. Now sit before it gets cold.”

Leon deflates, but agrees with a sigh, Moon and Gladion chuckling as they follow behind him, careful not to trip over Sonia’s Yamper as the Pokemon dashes back outside, intent on playing with the Charizard still in the yard. As they fill their plates with cookies and fall into conversation, Gladion takes another moment to watch Moon, this time as she talks with Leon.

It’s a little strange to see her like this – he's so used to her being reserved, and she still is, but she’s also playfully punching Leon in the arm, a little extra dry in her humor. He sips his tea, hiding a smile when he realizes that the “bro energy” she likes to tease Sun and Hau for supposedly having hasn’t totally escaped her, and he now has a front row seat to it.

Next to him, Sonia chews on her cheek as she leans towards him, whispering conspiratorially, “Bit odd, isn’t it?”

“Like watching an unlikely interspecies friendship,” he agrees, and the two share a snicker, drawing the other three’s attention.

Moon hums, her right hand reaching out for his under the table, interlacing their fingers as she smirks. “What’s so funny?”

Gladion gives her a lopsided smile, squeezing her hand under the table. “You are.”

“I’m downright hilarious, but how so this time?”

“You have a funny face.”

“Then why do you enjoy looking at it so often?” Moon grins as he rolls his eyes with a chuckle, but when she opens her mouth to continue, she pauses, seeming to remember they’re very much not alone and glancing at Leon out of the corner of the eye.

Who only smiles, far too confident as he asks, “So how long have you two been married, anyway?”

To which Gladion pales, Moon splutters as she pretends to find her tea incredibly interesting, and Sonia very nearly throws a napkin at the Galar Champion before steering the conversation towards the upcoming battle season.

And so they go on with their tea, Gladion and Moon’s hands remaining linked under the table as they listen to Leon retell his latest battle with Raihan, Sonia interjecting with a few cracks at him as the others laugh. As the last of the day’s sunshine filters in through the windows, a pleasant tranquility settles in the kitchen, one that not even Leon’s gesticulating can pierce.

It’s quite a surprise, then, when Sonia glances over at the clock and realizes over two hours have passed. She looks across the table at Leon, raising a brow as she says, “This has been a lovely little chin-wag, but don’t you have a dinner to get to?”

“Ah, nearly forgot,” he mumbles, his chair scraping against the floor as he stands with wide eyes, “Thanks Sonia.”

Hop and his friends are probably still preoccupied with their starters, but he did promise his mother that he’d be home in time for dinner. Still, he looks a bit crestfallen when he glances back down at Moon and Gladion, feeling like he hasn’t nearly had enough time to catch up with the Alola Champion, and he’s only scratched the surface of the Aether President’s cool exterior.

Sonia stands, mumbling something about having to lead him back or else he’d end up wandering in Slumbering Weald as her grandmother nods. Moon and Gladion follow suit, preparing their goodbyes when an idea smacks Leon across the forehead, his eyes lighting up as he looks around the table. “Say, why don’t you all join us?”

The others pause, Gladion and Moon exchanging a look before she mumbles, trying to contain her excitement, “Are you sure?”

“No doubt my mum’s gonna grill up too much food anyway, and Hop and his mates would lose their minds to meet another Champion and Battle Royal ace.” He nods, giving Magnolia and Sonia a grin as he adds, “You know you’re always welcome, too.”

Magnolia hums, standing and retrieving her cane from where it leans against the table. “Since you asked so politely.”

Sonia smiles, looping an arm around Moon and Gladion as she pokes her head between them, turning to look up at the blond as she chuckles, “What do you say, Gladion? Fancy a chance to take field notes on the interspecies friendship we discovered?”

Moon rolls her eyes, and Gladion laughs softly, shaking his head. “Can’t pass that up.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Moon warns without a hint of acidity, giving their interlocked hands another squeeze as she teases him.

He smirks. “You think I’m cute?”

“Well do you think I am?”

Sonia gags. “You’re both disgustingly sweet, is what you are.” They all share a laugh as she brushes past them, clapping a hand on Leon’s shoulder as the two head out the door, leading the way up the path along with Yamper and Charizard.

As they walk towards Postwick, holding hands, Moon stops him for a moment, leaning up (and with a little help of him leaning down) to place a kiss against his cheek, whispering against his skin, “I think you’re very cute, by the way.”

And it takes every ounce of impulse control within Gladion to keep walking, and not turn around and get that ring out.

[drkoestersmithrpg]

DONE!  The End Of Perils of A03!!

“Why did you bother?” Tony asked after they had settled into bed.  They had held each other in the daylit room, but Peter had finally turned around and snuggled into his little spoon position and had been drifting off to sleep.  

He groaned.

“You promised, Tony. Please try to sleep.”  

“Last question, I swear,” Tony said, sitting up and combing his hands through Peter’s hair.  “I just don’t get it.

“I wasn’t shitty to you on accident, that day of the Capture the Flag game.  

“I was shitty to you on purpose.  

“I know everyone thinks that I don’t control it, that I have diarrhea of the mouth.  Even Bruce.  But that’s my secret.  All my indifference is highly, highly calculated.  You came to the compound and announced you were 20, gay and ready to party. I shoved you away as hard as I could. Too fast to actually think about it. And I thought I succeeded.  It never even occurred to me I still had a shot until Nat said something.  And that surprised the hell of me.  I was a complete asshole, and I still wound up with an armful, a mouthful, of Peter Parker.

“You said all this is hard work…so why do it?

“Why did you bother?”

“If I tell you, will you promise to go to sleep?” Peter grumbled, already turning his head away from that gentle hand, already pressing his face into the sheets, covering it.  Dammit, just because Tony was opening up veins and spilling out all his truths, did that really Peter had to do it too?

But it was too late. He was already here, trapped beneath Tony’s gentle stroking fingers, suffering from a little sleep-dep himself.  So, in a nod to how much Tony had already confessed, he tried his best.

“I had a bad dream.”

It sounded just as bad out loud as it did in his head, so he stopped there.  

But Tony, oh dammit, Tony’s breath had caught and he was sitting up now, trying to turn Peter towards him, asking annoying questions.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Peter snapped, pushing Tony’s hands away, jerking his body back into his ‘I Am Sleeping Now Thankyou’ position.  He was stronger than Tony Stark dammit, and it was time Tony Stark remembered that.

There was silence. Then Peter felt a tentative hand caressing his back.

“Please?”

Peter’s face crumpled. There wasn’t enough hiding space on the sheets for his face, but he tried anyway.  But he couldn’t deny the tender tone from the man behind him. (That man rarely allowed himself to be tender.)

So he pushed himself back into Tony’s embrace.  He turned his face away from the sheets enough to speak.  He told the story.  He fought to keep the tears back, but doing that and talking was too much work, so he stopped fighting.

“It’s stupid.  

“Not the part where I had a scary dream I mean, the dream was stupid.  Like This-Is-Pissing-Me-Off levels of stupid.  The Over-Alien, Thanos I mean, he created the glove because he got all the Infinity Stones (for some profoundly stupid reason) and we fought him. You and me.  We were on the moon, not really the moon, someplace very far away, too far away to ever get home.  We got there on a space ship, and it had wrecked.  I wasn’t supposed to be there, you told me not to be, but I was.

“But it was also the moon, because we could jump around like astronauts.  Not you and me, the Guardians.  I saw them in my dream before they actually came to earth – remember how Cap said they might have been acting like that because they were really rattled? I think he’s wrong.  I think they act like that all the time.  That’s just how they are.

“And we fought him. Over-Alien.  You were right to call him The Big Blue.  He looked ridiculous.  I’d tell you what he looked like but you’d think it was funny.  But it wasn’t funny.    And we fought him.  Dr. Strange was there and he used me like a weapon, like a boomerang, and I was really kicking his ass, his head I mean…”

He stopped and rolled his eyes disgusted at himself.  What point was there to bragging about his most awesome moment, the moment he did something fantastic for (and in front of!) his hero Tony Stark?  That moment never happened.

“And then he stabbed you with your own nanotech and then I died.  And it hurt.  I felt it in my bonemarrow.  In internal organs that aren’t supposed to have pain sensors, I felt it.  I fought it.  And you held me…”

He stopped fighting tears and he turned around, suddenly and wrapped his arms around Tony, one arm around his neck and the other on his back.

Just like he had in the dream.  “You held me so close,” he said, ignoring the tears.  “And I wanted to be brave for you and I so I fought it but I couldn’t keep…it was too much.  And I died in your arms and I was so sorry…”

“Shhhhh…” Tony said, or tried to say, but he feared it wouldn’t sound sincere.  He had burned through too much goodwill to try to sound comforting now.  So he just held on in silence.

“And then it gets really stupid, because you died next,” Peter said, wiping the tears away even as he grimaced at how absurd it was.  “It’s a dream so it doesn’t have to make sense.  There was fighting after that, a lot of people.  And we won, but we didn’t.  And you died in my arms…”

His voice broke again.

“And they pulled me away from you because I was a child and they weren’t.  You held my hand, you called for me, but they pulled me away.”  His jaw clenched so hard it hurt.  It was absurd to be so angry, even now.  

“I don’t remember that part,” Tony said, absently stroking his head.  He wasn’t even looking at him then, just looking into space.  Remembering.

“What did you do, when you woke up?  Because I started drinking.  Just got out of bed and went straight to the liquor cabinet and broke into the scotch. I had some idea if I drank hard enough, fast enough, I could black it out, lose the memory.  But I was a responsible adult, so I didn’t.  A week later StarFlake the Galaxy High landed in their spaceship and oh god I really, really wish I had.

“I saw all of that – the way you fought it off, and god Kid, I was so damn proud of you. You were the only one who could have fought it, but you couldn’t fight it forever.  And then you said “I’m sorry” and then were gone and all I could think of was that I couldn’t tell you how proud I was that you had tried. And ‘I lost the Kid.’  That’s all I could think of.

“And there were so many people there, all these people being told a story of how Spider-Man turns to dust, and they were all crying, all of them, the adults and the children, especially the children, and I couldn’t cry because… there enough left of me to cry with.”

And this dream, I just couldn’t shake it.  Not because it was real (it wasn’t real, it was so nonsensical.)  But it was so loud.  It left my ears ringing.”

Peter pulled away enough to look into Tony’s face.  When it was clear the man wasn’t joking, he snuggled into his chest and breathed in his scent.

“So, what you’re telling me is…this is all your fault,” he said finally.

“After I got the spiderbite, I was constantly doing this.  Hearing things I shouldn’t have been able to hear, seeing things I shouldn’t have been able to see, know things were sneaking up behind me, etc. etc.  So I picked up on your bad dream. Which came from your messed-up brain. I get it.”

“I had the dream before we were sleeping together…”

“Shut up please I like my new theory and I’m keeping it.  Goodnight.  See you in a few hours,” He said decidedly, turning back into his comfortable position as the little spoon and stubbornly snuggling in.

“I don’t want to talk about it any more Tony,” was all he would say, and Tony had to admit defeat. But the wheels in his brain continued to turn.

He thought about life, about the choices and the string of events that were required to bring you to the place where you made the choice, and the string of events that might by likely, or might be as equally unlikely, to occur.  And he thought about sleep, and how the deprivation of said sleep might disrupt the connection between the amygdala and medial prefrontal cortex which might make some decisions, including the saying of certain words out loud, regrettable.

And then he thought of the Over-Alien, so everpresent it haunted their dreams, and how his continued non-presence made otherwise unsafe-decisions reasonable.

That’s why he continued to stroke Peter’s hair.

“I love you,” he whispered.

The silence that stretched out between them.

“Ok,” he said chuckling, conceding defeat.  It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.  Maybe he was too tired to hurt.  “Nevermind…”

“Oh, I’m planning on saying it,” Peter murmured, sounding very matter-of-fact.  “Just not right now.

“I’m betting money you’re going to forget most of this conversation.”

Tony Stark grinned from ear to ear.

“I’ll take that bet.”

[dawnstruck]

though the stars walk backward [11/11]

AN: This fucking torture session of a fanfic is finally finished. I am so sorry for the wait and the subpar quality of this thing. Thank you for your patience.

[Read on AO3]

They don't dare wait for long. There's no telling when Zarkon or Sendak or Rarrek will next decide to entertain themselves with their pain.

But for all the urgency of wanting to escape, Shiro's own involvement in the plan is limited. It is Keith who will carve out a path for them. There are no outward signs of whether Keith is affected by any of this, whether he is nervous or scared or doubtful. One day, he simply steps into Shiro's cabin and gives a tight nod. It is the only sign Shiro needs.

Finally, it is time.

They have a light lunch, just something to tide them over for the next few hours without weighing them down, but then there is nothing left to do. They have no personal belongings to take with them, no one to wish farewell. They will leave no mark on this ship that has put scars on them in so many different ways. The silence between them weighs heavy, meaningful, profound.

Before they leave, however, Shiro grabs Keith by the wrist, holding him back for just a moment.

“Thank you,” he says when Keith glances back at him, “For helping me.”

But Keith just shrugs, “They did tell me to follow you orders.”

There is no remorse in his voice, no worry. All these weeks Shiro had tried to determine how loyal Keith was to the Galran Empire. And all along the answer had been: not at all.

In spite of his own nerves, Shiro finds himself grinning. Keith's lips whisper an answering smirk back at him.

And then it begins.

They make their way to the training deck, their usual routine a good excuse to move around outside without raising anyone's suspicion. Under the always curious eyes of the other prisoners, they engage in a light sparring match. It has the additional benefit of warming up their muscles before they actually might have to fight some of the guards, but for that same reason they know that they mustn't exhaust themselves just yet.

Usually, when they are here together, they train for at least two hours. But that is not an option today. So a couple of minutes in, Keith gives Shiro another almost imperceptible nod.

The next time Shiro wrestles Keith down, he keeps him there, presses him into the ground with the weight of his body, covering him. Keith struggles underneath him, bucks his hips, lets out frustrated noises. Today it's entirely for show, but completely in line with how he usually acts when he is losing a match. Shiro's reaction, however, is a new one.

Ever aware of the attentive gazes on them, Shiro takes a calming breath. Then he bears down on Keith.

“Hold still,” he growls roughly. His left hand finds the exposed skin of Keith's upper thigh where the  tunic has slipped up once more. Keith's breath hitches and Shiro can't quite tell whether that is pretend as well.

Gritting his jaw, his slides his hand up higher, underneath the fabric and onto Keith's sharp hipbone.

“No,” Keith protests, his struggles intensifying, “Don't.”

“Oh?” Shiro cocks a condescending eyebrow, “That's not what you said last night.”

He could vomit with how those words feel on his tongue, but he's got to play his part.

Around them some of the aliens chuckle. Keith turns his head away, going limp in Shiro's hold.

“Not- not here,” he says, more quietly but still enough for most to hear, “Please.”

“Tsk,” Shiro huffs but retreats anyway, getting to his feet and pulling Keith up in the process. A final tug to the boy's wrist and Shiro has slung him over his shoulder.

Under derisive snorts and some whistles, Shiro carries Keith off the training deck, his intent seemingly obvious.

“That kind of exercise won't help you in the arena, Champion,” one of the guards by the door warns him good-naturedly and Shiro smirks.

“It's still good training,” he claims, jostling Keith's weight a bit, “He likes to bite.”

Keith makes an indignant noise but it's drowned out by the guards' laughter. Shiro makes his way into the direction of his cabin, but as soon as they round the corner he sets Keith down.

“Sorry,” he says in contrition.

“Don't apologize,” Keith frowns, “That was part of the plan.”

And then he is already striding down the hallway and towards the elevator, so there is nothing for Shiro but to follow.

Many of the control panels do not react if a non-Galran tries to work them, so it's Keith who presses his hand to the sensor to take them to the lowest deck. It's the cargo deck, the one where Keith has spent most of his time when he was still a pilot.

They sneak along the hallways, ducking behind corners and counting out the seconds as guards pass them, timing the movement of the patrols before they move on.

Like this it takes them close to half an hour to get to the hangar, but at least they do not run into any trouble. That is, until Keith points out their intended escape vehicle.

Because Shiro doesn't know much about Galran technology, but this thing looks like the space equivalent of a rubber dinghy.

“It's been set aside for minor repairs,” Keith explains, opening the door to the pilot's seat, while Shiro realizes that maybe he should not just have the majority of the planning to Keith without making certain that Keith knew what he was doing.

“Even if it were brand new and working,” Shiro points out, fighting down the tight feeling in his chest, “That thing will never be fast enough.”

But Keith shakes his head, already climbing into the cockpit.

“We are close to a wormhole which opens not far away from your planet,” he says, “That should do it.”

“How?” Shiro objects, scrambling up and onto the seat of the co-pilot. He is hit by an odd sense of déjà vu because somehow this reminds him of his early days as a cadet. “You don't even know where my home planet is.”

“There is a data log for every prisoner, stating their name, species and planet of origin,” Keith points out as he fires up the console. Around them, the ship hums to life.

“But-”

“And the circumstances of their capture,” Keith adds, “You were caught close to a gas giant-”

“Jupiter,”

“- and that's where the wormhole opens up.”

“It's still too far away from Earth,” Shiro gasps, “Just getting there took months. This thing is not equipped for deep space travel and-”

Keith levels him with a look. “Superior species, remember?” he says dryly, “Superior science included.”

Right. Galran ships probably moved a lot faster than Terran ones. So Shiro takes a deep breath, hoping to calm the panic that had overwhelmed him so suddenly. He can trust Keith, in this and in everything.

“Alright,” he says, making a point of leaning back in his seat and facing forward, “Take us out of here, pilot.”

“This is where you accelerate,” Keith explains, his fingers moving across the control panel so deftly that Shiro has trouble following, “It can't go very fast, so you have to be gentle with it.”

They have taken the ship to the hangar without any complications. So far, everything had gone according to plan. That means that of course something has to go wrong at some point.

“Alright,” Keith nods to himself and then lifts himself out of his seat, “You take over.”

“What?” Shiro says, alarmed because even though he paid attention he does not feel comfortable piloting this thing.

“I have to open the hangar. Can't do that from in here,” Keith explains. It would almost sound akin to exasperation, but there is something else there. A strange hush to his voice, a breathlessness. Maybe it's just the excitement.

He opens the hatch on his side of the ship and makes to climb out. Before he does, however, he stills for a moment, just looking at Shiro. Then he gives himself a push and jumps out of the opening.

Shiro quickly takes his place, craning his head to see where Keith hits the ground running and takes off into the direction of where the first doors to the separate hangars open.

That is, of course, when things start to go wrong.

Just as Keith has manually pulled the lever that opens the hangar, he is noticed by the guards on patrol.

“Hey!” one of them calls out, “Hey, what are you doing?”

Keith doesn't answer, just swivels around with a growl.

“Look at him,” the other guard says, “He's dressed like a slave.”

“There are no pick-ups scheduled for today,” the first one says, “Get that ship back where it belongs.”

Instead of even trying to come up with a credible story, Keith does what he does best. He charges right at them. Shiro resists the urge to bang his head against the headboard. Instead, he somewhat awkwardly maneuvers the ship into the hangar, though he still cranes his neck to see what is happening below.

Keith, agile and wiry, seems to be holding his own against the guards. In their surprise, he has managed to disarm one of them, while he is now wrestling the other for his phaser gun. The first one, sitting on the floor and looking a little stunned, quickly regains his bearings. He does not reach for his weapon, however, and instead grabs the communication device attached to his belt.

“Code Seven-Four-Seven,” he barks out, “Get Officer Rarrek down to hangar 14!”

Shiro has no idea what Code Seven-Four-Seven is, but he knows that he does not want to risk another encounter with Rarrek, especially not so soon after Keith has suffered under the Galra's hands.

In that moment, Keith is thrown back, landing hard on his shoulder and sliding along the ground. Unlike the guards, he is not wearing any sort of armor and when he pushes himself up his unprotected skin is scraped and sore. That, however, is the least of his problems because a moment later he finds two barrels pointed at him.

Shiro curses under his breath. Then he pushes himself out of his seat and abandons ship.

He lands right on top of one of the guards. A shot goes astray but Keith neatly ducks out of its way.

“What the-” the other Galra swears, swerving around to train his gun on Shiro instead, “The champion?”

“My bad,” Shiro says, diving forward, sliding around the ground and then kicking the man's legs from under him. The Glara goes down, hard, the gun slipping from his hands, but then Shiro is already upon him, gets an arm around his neck, and like this the armor is only feeble protection. Underneath him, the Galra is grappling at for the knife he carries in a holster strapped to his thigh, pulling it free, but the strength is already going out of him.

Shiro grits his teeth, waits for the telltale crack of bone, and then lets his opponent go.

When he gets to his feet again, he finds Keith staring at him. Numbly, it occurs to Shiro that Keith has possibly never seen him fight in the arena. Keith has never seen him kill.

Shiro bites his tongue and squares his shoulders. This is no moment for weakness. They've got to get out of here and fast.

Down the hallway, he can already hear the sound of heavy footsteps.

Rarrek, he thinks in blinding white panic, but before it can even turn into anything more concrete than that, his gaze has landed on the knife lying in the limply curled fingers of the dead guard. So Shiro bends down, takes up the unfamiliar weapon, tests the feel of it in his grip. The sharp edge gleams under the fluorescent lights.

“Keith,” he says, already reaching out and quickly pushing Keith up against the side of the poorly parked ship.

His cybernetic hand is in Keith's hair, tugging his head to the side and holding him in place. With his left, he raises the blade to Keith's neck and makes a small incision. It takes a bit of trying, a bit of digging, Keith wincing quietly, but then Shiro fumbles out the chip from underneath his skin.

When he pulls back, Keith's breath is sharp and shallow and he is staring at Shiro with wide liquid eyes.

“What on Galra was that for?” he demands angrily, but his voice cracks a little.

“The microchip,” Shiro tells him, dropping it to the floor and then crushing it with his heel for good measure, “In case we run into someone who has one of those remote controls.”

Keith's breath stutters, “A little warning would have been nice.”

Shiro blinks, only now really catching up to how his move might have been misconstrued.

“You... thought I would slit your throat?” he asks, his throat dry, but Keith just gives a violent shrug.

“Less witnesses,” he points out.

Before Shiro can say anything in reply, however, more guards show up. And they are being led by Rarrek.

“The audacity,” the officer growls as soon as he spots them. His fists are clenched at his sides, but the real threat at the armed soldiers flanking him.

“When I heard that a slave was trying to escape I hadn't dare to entertain the idea that it might be you,” he says, stepping closer, “But who else would be foolish enough to attempt such an endeavor but you, Kithnarak?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Keith snaps, tugging Shiro behind the ship to grant them momentary cover. And not too soon because a second later a phaser shot zaps past them.

“Don't kill them,” Rarrek barks at his men, “We need the champion alive.”

“But the slave-”, one of them protests.

“I want him alive, too,” Rarrek says, “He's not getting out easy this time.”

“How are we gonna do this?” Shiro asks, feebly trying to squish down the anxiety in his stomach, but the odds are not exactly in their favor right now.

“Get back into the ship,” Keith just tells him. He is crouched on the ground, peering across the hangar.

“But what about-?”

“I'll hold them back,” Keith tells him. His adam's apple bobs as he swallows. Next to it a trickle of blood runs along his skin.

“What?” Shiro bursts out, “No!”

“This is the only way,” Keith insists, “I know what I am doing. Now go.”

After a moment of warring with himself, Shiro does as he is told. Trust, he reminds himself. Trust is key.

“Kithnarak,” Rarrek calls out from somewhere just as Shiro is climbing back into the ship, “If you surrender yourself, I promise I'll plead your case to Commander Sendak. I can't say you'll go unpunished, but I promise to make it gentle.”

It's the exact opposite of what he had said before, and Shiro's skin crawls just listening to the words, but then he is already kicking up the engine again.

“I said, fuck off, Rarrek,” Keith hisses back. The words are so venomous, he must have been wanting to say them for a very long time.

“The champion has warped your mind,” Rarrek tells him, “Would you really rather lay with a pale-faced alien than with one of your own kind?”

“I can think of a million things that I'd rather do than you,” Keith huffs. In the shadow of the ship, he has relieved the dead guard of his helmet, slipping it onto his own head.

“Then I hope dying is among them,” Rarrek threatens and suddenly he is in front of Keith. In his hand he is holding the terrible torture device that activates the micro chip and he is pointing it right at Keith.

“What the-,” he curses a mere moment later when nothing happens, and he presses the button again, more forcefully this time.

“Sorry,” Keith smirks, “You're a little too late for that.”

He grabs the dead guard's phaser gun, trains it on Rarrek's chest, and shoots. The effect is instantaneous. Rarrek seizes up and then he crumbles down where he stands, but Keith is not even looking at him, already firing at the other soldiers.

“Disregard orders!” one of them shouts, “Kill the slave!”

Keith, in his recklessness, just makes a mad dash across the hangar.

“Shiro!” he calls, “Now!”

Shiro fumbles with the various buttons on the dashboard, gets the ship off-ground again and directs it forward where Keith is ducking behind a control panel, no doubt to open up the gate of the hangar. That's why he must have put on the helm for, so he would still be able to breathe at least, yet without a proper suit the vacuum of space would still doubtlessly harm him.

And Keith must know that, Keith must know how dangerous this is. And yet. And yet he looks so determined, so ferocious, and in that moment it occurs to Shiro that he had never asked Keith to escape with him.

It's a time-stopping thought, a heart-stilling one. It's a terrible oversight.

Keith, after all his promises of getting Shiro out of here, seems to have accepted the idea that he would be left behind. That he would sacrifice himself. That Shiro wouldn't even protest.

He couldn't be more wrong.

“Keith!” Shiro yells, throwing the hatch open, “Come with me!”

Keith, with eyes like infinite violet nebulae, stares up at him, uncomprehending.

“Please,” Shiro begs, “I can't just leave you here.”

Something jerks through Keith then, understanding or electricity, and his hand reaches for the controls.

“Put on the helmet!” he warns, barely waiting for Shiro to react, and then he flips the switch.

The guards shout and shoot and Shiro nearly drops the helmet that is mounted above the dashboard and doubtlessly connected to some sort of oxygen supply in case of emergencies.

In front of him the hangar opens with a groan, yawning wide like the maw of a terribly beast, only that is promises freedom instead of death.

Keith, with frantic grace, jumps out from his hiding place and scrambles up the side of the cargo ship. A shot zips just past his head, but then he is already squeezing in through the hatch and pulling it shut behind him. Like this, he is practically perched in Shiro's lap but, without any words, he puts his hands to the controls.

The ship purrs underneath his touch, proving just how capable of a pilot he must have been before  he was demoted, and a second later Shiro is pressed back in his seat as the ship accelerates from stand-still to just this side of too fast.

Behind them, the guards are helplessly trying to hold on to something instead of being sucked out into the vastness of space, but Shiro couldn't care less about that right now.

They pass the gate of the hangar, the stars opening up in front of them, and this is not quite how Shiro ever imagined his escape because he is technically still in a Galran ship, he is still in the presence of an actual Galra, but for once he is not afraid.

“We just have to make it to the wormhole,” Keith mutters under his breath, deftly turning the ship  to the left.

Just the wormhole, Shiro thinks. Just the wormhole and then some, and then he will be home. Home for the first time in months and months. He has lost his crew and his arm and a good chunk of his innocence, but the only thing on his mind right now is victory.

“Keith,” he says. With numb fingertips he pulls the helmet from his head, lets it fall onto the empty seat of the co-pilot.

“Keith,” again, when Keith does not react.

“Trying to concentrate here,” Keith growls lowly. Ahead of them, the wormhole is visible, glowing ominously.

Perhaps, he is always like this. Perhaps, when he is not wearing a figurative slave collar, when he is not subjected to someone else's will, Keith is always this terse and curt and annoyed. Perhaps this is the first time Shiro truly gets to see him.

And he wants to see him, his face and his fierce eyes, so he does the only thing that seems logical and detaches the helmet from Keith's head.

Keith hisses a little, bucks up his shoulders and then ducks free, shakes his head once, making his dark hair fly. His gaze is still directed towards their destination, but when Shiro puts his hand on his chin he moves along with it, lets his face be tilted up, so that Shiro can lean in, lean around him and dip down.

Their lips meet, salty with sweat, chapped from worrying teeth, but it's perfect like this, it's just right because this is what this moment amounts to. It's so much more than just a sign of affection, as Shiro has told himself so many times before. This is desperation and relief and liberation. This is victory.

Keith makes a quiet noise into his mouth and, when he turns them into the wormhole, his eyes finally slip shut as though he too had been waiting for this.

Around them space is infinite and, finally, Shiro is allowed to return home.

[littlemoneytoes]

I'm dying here 🤣 😂

More incorrect aga quotes

freddy: What’s it like being tall? chica: Is it nice? goldie: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards? bonnie: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

bonnie: sees someone doing something stupid bonnie: What an idiot. bonnie: realizes it's goldie bonnie: Wait, that's MY idiot!

goldie: Guys, I have a question. freddy: kys ❤️ goldie: I love you too. chica: Ah, yes. Siblings.

bonnie: How are we supposed to put a tracker the size of a penny on goldie without them noticing? freddy: Hey, goldie, I bet you 5 bucks that you can't swallow this penny. goldie: takes and swallows tracker Pay up, loser. bonnie: … bonnie: Someone take me to art museums and make out with me. goldie: But they said not to touch the masterpieces. bonnie: Well somebody's got to pin the artwork to the wall. chica, on a walkie talkie: This is chica, those idiots are fucking around in the East wing again.

goldie, sweating: bonnie, there’s something I need to ask you- bonnie: Finally! You’re proposing! goldie: How’d you know? bonnie: goldie, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner. bonnie: I even picked it up once.

freddy: What do you have? goldie: A KNIFE! freddy: NO!

foxy: Are you an ‘arr’ pirate or a ‘yo ho ho’ pirate? TB: I’m a ‘I’m not paying $600 for photoshop’ pirate.

freddy: Oh, they left the bowl out? freddy: It says, “Take two pieces of candy.” goldie: Nobody around though… goldie grabs the entire bowl and runs off with it freddy: NO—

goldie: Oh gosh I wish I got more sleep I only got six hours! mangle: Six? I only got three! mari: You guys got sleep? freddy, comes stumbling out of their room and grabs a jug of coffee before saying: What year is it??

freddy: Just be yourself. Say something nice. goldie: Which one? I can't do both.

goldie: Reading a letter mari: Well, what does it say? goldie: It’s a confession letter. It turns out Finn killed my pet rock.

foxy: Go to sleep or you'll hate yourself in the morning! Freddy: I'll hate myself in the morning regardless.

chica: When's the last time you slept? freddy: Uh… a few days ago, I think. chica: A few- how many?! freddy: Uh… starts counting on fingers I need more fingers… chica: What you need is sleep!

freddy: What is wrong with you? goldie: Many, many things… goldie: And most of them are your f***ing fault.

freddy: I'm feeling it! What am I feeling? Death, probably.

mari: Heyyy freddy, how’s your… drink?? freddy: What do you mean drink? It’s coffee. mari: You sure?? Looks to coffee maker freddy: Looks to coffee maker Cement sitting beside the coffee maker freddy:…I’m on my third f***ing drink right now, I should be dead.

mari: Hey, goldie, where are you going? goldie: Well, it depends. When I die, probably hell. goldie: But right now I’m going to McDonald’s.

mangle: Comparing goldie and freddy is like comparing apples and oranges. goldie: We’re both unique in our own ways? mangle: Apples are superior in every way and all oranges should be eliminated. freddy: Which one of us is the orange?

goldie: Good morning. As you begin your day, remember that violence is always an option and often the answer. finn: goldie: finn: …Please, go back to bed.

goldie: closes a cabinet a crash is heard behind the cabinet door mari: What was that? goldie: The sound of someone else's problem.

goldie: You f****** don’t know about my knife stick. It’s a knife taped to a stick and it’s the ultimate weapon. freddy: Spear. goldie: BLOCKED.

mangle: Why are you two always out during rainstorms? freddy: It’s so peaceful and refreshing. I love the smell of rain. goldie: foxy bet me I couldn’t get struck by lighting, but they’re WRONG.

bonnie and freddy playing minecraft bonnie: Oh no, oh no, oh no- freddy: What’s wrong? bonnie: I did a thing. freddy: You regret the thing you dID- bonnie: screams freddy: What the f*** did you do- sees mass of aggravated Piglin Damn it- bonnie: screams again

goldie: I prevented a murder today. bonnie: Really? That’s amazing! How did you do that? goldie: Self-control.

freddy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB F***! goldie: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!