#i used the pov wrong

[alfpage95]

Ahhhhhh

[royalarchivist]

Pac: I'm not going to say anything to you guys [Chat], I'm not going to say anything to you. I'm not saying absolutely anything, I'm not going to comment. Man, you broke me here, you broke me in 3 parts! I'm not going to- no no no no no, I won't fall for your game, I won't fall for your game.*

Pac's chat allows viewers to make music requests, which led to this very well-timed moment today where Careless Whisper started playing as soon as Pac met back up with Fit.

* [Approximate translation. I'm not a native Portuguese speaker, so as always, please feel free to let me know if there's a better way to translate things!]

[fiveredlights]

old habits die screaming - chapter 1

(alternatively known as the daniel team principal au)

Visa Cash App RB @/VisaCashAppRB • 1 Nov 2027 Ricciardo Returns! Visa Cash App RB is excited to announce that former Red Bull & RB driver Daniel Ricciardo will be taking up the helm as team boss from 2028, following current team boss Laurent Mekies reduction into a part time role. Read more at the 🔗 in bio.

When Daniel’s Zandvoort injury turns out to be much worse than it first seems he officially retires at the end of the 2023 season. Five years later, he’s announced as the new team boss of RB and many people in and out of the paddock have lots of thoughts.

Told through social media integrated through work skins.

(read here)

[silverwhittlingknife]

"the fault, dear Brutus -" (Julius Caesar)

Quotes from A Critical History of English Literature by David Daiches. Panels from Death in the Family, Under the Red Hood, Lost Days, and Batman and Robin.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Six / Part Seven (YOU ARE HERE) / Part Eight

A03

If the odd, small sounding Steve had been a weird pill to swallow, then the loudly swearing, furious one might as well have been a different person.

Worse?

He wanted Gareth and Eddie to stay behind.

“You are not going to the lab by yourself.” Eddie deadpanned, blocking the door while Steve acted like an agitated snake in front of it.

“You don’t understand.” Steve hissed, weaving back and forth on his feet, like he was trying to find a way out without bowling Eddie over.

Or breaking a window.

“Then help us understand!” Eddie shot back, throwing his hands up. 

Which was just the crux of the issue--because Steve seemed fine to talk about the lab being a horrible place, but kept refusing to answer why.

“You don’t have to tell us the full thing man, but give us something.” Gareth pleaded, hoping it didn’t come off as desperate as he felt.

Not his fault Steve was setting off his own anxiety.

The jock stepped back, running a hand through his hair and making a mess of it.

"I don't have the time." He stressed, anger, worry and pure fear mixing together in his tone.

In a mutter he added; "You wouldn't believe me anyways."

Tentatively, Gareth reached out, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

For the first time since they’d known each other, Steve didn’t react to being touched.

"Eddie and I are gonna go no matter what. So you can either give us a heads up now, or you can be mad at us later when we just follow you anyway.” Gareth said, a hell of a lot calmer than he felt.

Steve had turned partly to glare at him, but seemed to at least let the words sink in. To get through that no, really, they were going, and all this arguing was just wasting time. 

Not that Gareth trusted it. 

"I don't want you guys getting hurt." Steve burst out, and it looked like it cost him to admit even that much.

Like it was inevitable and all this was a Hail Mary attempt to keep them from that future.

Eddie seemed to pick up on it too, because he caught Steve's gaze and held it. "You're a part of Hellfire now. If you were in that lab, we'd be all coming for you. Not one of us--all of us.”

He followed it up by invading Steve’s space, jamming a finger into the jock's chest.

“I don’t know why you think we’d be okay with you getting hurt." Eddie stared hard at him, voice as serious as Gareth had ever heard it. “You’re our friend, too Steve. We’re not abandoning Tiff and the rest of the Scooby Doo gang, and we're also not letting you do something that has you this freaked out, alone.”

Which is what this all seemed to keep coming down to. How Steve was willing to throw himself at problems, how he kept wanting to handle his own issues, while trying to manage everyone else so that he was the only target.

The only person in the know, the only one in the line of fire. 

Like he was a burden instead of a person. 

Gareth kept wondering how the hell that had happened. If this had been anyone else he would have written it off as some macho bullshit, but Steve wasn't like that. He'd didn't need to be the one white knight. 

The fear he spoke with had always been too real, for that. 

It wasn't like they--or at least, Eddie and himself, hadn't picked up that something was happening, either. Something big. 

Given the weird, hushed conversations Steve kept have with Nancy, and Jonathan and even the kids sometimes…

Once, just once, Gareth had seen Steve talk to the Chief of Police. The asshole had looked awkward as hell, giving Steve a few pats to his shoulder, and Steve looking equally as awkward, leaning into it--but they looked like two people who'd gone through the same shit and now were stuck together. Not a police officer giving a warning to a teenager. Not even a family friend catching up. 

Something was up in Hawkins and now wasn't the time to dog Steve about it, but Gareth still wished he'd give them a hint. 

A tidbit, a morsel, of what the fuck had him so riled up.

“And if all this means our friends are in danger, then we're absolutely going too.” Eddie continued, nearly nose to nose with Steve.

Steve put his hands on his hips, frustration written all over his face--but he didn’t step away. "I don't think you'd be okay with it, it's just-- I'm just--already involved! This is how it’s been."

As if that wasn’t fucking alarming.

"And now, so are we.” Eddie threw back, pointing at the phone. "It’d help if you at least told us what to watch out for, but if not then we need to stop arguing so we can go help.”

That definitely got through.

Steve tapped a foot, blowing out a breath and overall acted as if Gareth and Eddie were the ones being unreasonable here.

(Or a pissed off single mother of six, not that Gareth was voicing that image.)

"Fine." He snapped finally, pinching the bridge of his nose and backing away from Eddie. “Fine! But you listen to me when we get out there, and if I tell you two to run, I need you to trust me and run.”

A grin tried to blast across Eddie’s face, the smug one he wore when he won and he knew it, but he covered it up before Steve saw.

Gareth doubted it’d take much to slide Steve right back into trying to keep them at the trailer, or straight up pull some dirty ass move to force it.

(He belatedly wondered if he should worry about Steve trying to stab one of Eddie’s tires out, but didn’t think the older teen would go that far.

Not yet, anyway.)

"I wasn't kidding when I said you wouldn't believe me." Steve spoke over his shoulder, blowing through the door the second Eddie got out of the way, marching down the steps to his Beemer. "But let’s just say that lab did a lot worse than create shit like rabid dogs, and a few of their creations might still be there. Grab a weapon!"

“I thought there wasn’t any rabid dogs!” Gareth protested at the same time Eddie said;

"So the cops can get us on felony charges? What is trespassing not enough for you?"

Eddie shook his head, following Steve down to the gravel. "No thanks, man!"

“I never said their weren't rabid dogs at all, I said--wait, who told you that?” Steve asked, trying to turn and face Gareth but Eddie simply pushed him forward, kept him moving.

“They’ve waited for us long enough.” He whispered lowly, as Gareth scrambled about for something to use.

Managed to fetch the fire poker he knew Wayne kept around to scare away coyotes, or rival drug dealers, or anything else wandering about.

If Steve said bring a weapon, he'd bring a damn weapon.

Felony charges or not.

"The cops won't charge us. Not as long as Hopper’s the one who gets there first.” Steve said and the desperation in his voice had faded a little, revealing something hard and self-assured underneath.

Not cocky, but with the strength Hellfire had when approaching a boss or baddie they had conquered once before and were familiar with. 

"And if El's involved? He will get there first." Steve said firmly, whipping the backdoor of his car open and yanking a bag out.

A bag that had muffled squawking coming out of it.

Steve snatched a walkie talkie out from it, interrupting a stream of high pitched, upset nonsense coming out the tinny speakers.

Gareth caught someone half asking, half yelling if "-literally anyone could pick up!" before Steve hit the talk button.

"What's happening!?" He demanded, as he slammed the car door and stormed to the trunk.

"Steve!" Several voices yelled at once, the speakers shrieking in static feedback.

One beat out the others, as its owner screeched into the walkie in a tone that only children under fourteen and small dogs seemed to be capable of. "Where the hell have you been!? We called a code red an hour ago!"

"Bitch later Henderson, explain now." Steve commanded, picking out a bat with fucking house nails hammered into it.

Several of which were stained a rusted, blood-red.

Eddie stopped dead in his tracks, eyeing Steve with his mouth ajar as the nails gleamed lazily in his porchlights. 

Gareth couldn't blame him; his own heart had just picked up speed.

Steve gave the bat two experimental twirls, flipping it easily in his hand, before he seemed satisfied. Both the weapon and the movement worked together, elevating Steve into something straight out of the fantasy novels Hellfire traded around.

Like a fucking paladin come to life.

Gareth felt his breath hitch at the way it highlighted the guy's biceps, already on display since Steve had shoved his sleeves up. The movement was so smooth and well practiced that it was clear this was his weapon of choice--and that he’d definitely used it before.

Gareth wasn't even attracted to Steve Harrington, but one couldn't be blamed for having eyes.

"Mike insisted he saw lights on at the lab, and Will thought he might have felt something--" Henderson started, before being abruptly interrupted by someone on his end.

"He did feel something, Dustin!"

"Shut up, I'm talking to Steve!”

"Stop arguing and give me the short version. You're all in the lab?" Steve cut in.

‘It should be illegal to sound that annoyed while moving like that.’ Gareth thought idly, as Steve dropped the bat to the ground, then propped it up against his car.

He waved Eddie and Gareth over, one hand going to cover the walkie talkie’s speakers as it spat static. ‘Pick one.’ He mouthed, in the exact same way Gareth’s mom did when she was trying to talk to him and someone on the phone at the same time.

With a short glance at each other, they went.

"--we got to the lab and El and Max were already here--" Dustin tried again, and once again was talked over, making the conversation extremely hard to follow.

Kids, God.

"-You told us to meet you here-"

"-and there were these older kids running around-'

"-excuse you, tiny bratling, we are not kids-"

"Was that Grant?" Gareth found himself asking, as Steve waved a hand above his open trunk distractedly, like a vendor showing off wares.

Except instead of trinkets, it held a gun, a knife and a fucking candlestick.

The latter of which sported another suspicious red stain.

There was a second explosion of noise, and what sounded like multiple walkie's being fought over before a young, female voice came on, its owner having apparently won the tug of war.

"The idiots thought they saw something but it turned out to just be some teenagers breaking into the lab for fun." She scoffed, and sounded suspiciously like a Tiff Jr.

It took a second, but Gareth finally placed the voice to the redheaded girl--the one who rolled her eyes a lot.

"The wall and part of the floor collapsed, some guy fell through a hole into a locked room and El thinks the collapse wasn't an accident." The words were spoken rapid fire, like a front line soldier relaying information. "She and Will both feel something."

Eddie picked up the knife while Gareth simply held up his fire poker.

Steve nodded to them, and closed the trunk.

"Can you all get out of there safely?" He asked.

"El thinks if we leave, the--thing here will attack the guy that's stuck."

'Thing' Gareth mouthed to himself.

Not a person.

Not a dog, or bear, or--anything else.

A thing.

"Fuck." Steve spat, taking his hand off the talk button so no one on the other side heard.

"She and Will aren't sure what it is yet but they're thinking it's from the Upside Down."

After a brief pause wherein someone could be heard shouting in the distance, she sarcastically added; "Honestly I'm happy to leave the guy that's stuck here, he's really annoying--"

"No sacrificing Stewart!" Steve snapped instantly, and despite all the swearing and dramatics, having contact with the kids seemed to ease something in him.

His movements were no longer frantic, back and shoulders looser.

Even the way he talked seemed to unclench, like he'd been told the worst had come and now that it was finally here, he could deal with it.

"If you're sure, because I'm pretty sure Billy is gonna start looking for me soon." Max argued.

Steve groaned. "I'll handle him if he shows up."

For the first time since Steve had picked up the walkie, silence descended.

Gareth wasn't exactly an expert in such things, but it felt judgmental.

"Are you gonna handle it like the last time you handled it? Cause we don't have anything to knock him out with and I don't know if your head can--"

"Thank you Max, but I can deal with him." Steve cut in immediately, face flaming and yeah, they were definitely out of whatever protective crazy mode Steve had started off in. "This time I have my bat and backup. So unless your brother has taken to carrying stacks of plates around, I think I'll be fine!"

"Step brother." Max corrected immediately, huffing.

Then in a slightly quieter voice, she added: "Hey Steve? Get here fast."

"I'm coming. Steve over and out." He said firmly, like an older brother reassuring a younger sibling.

How the hell the guy had ever managed to appear like a heartless asshole was beyond Gareth.

Apparently it was beyond Eddie too because the guy was practically drooling with heart eyes in Steve's direction.

The kids signed off, before quiet, blessedly descended.

"Can I ask one question?" Gareth asked, as Steve cursed at the finally silent walkie talkie.

Steve stopped, entire chest heaving in a sigh.

"Yeah, one." He said, as though even that cost him a lot.

Out of the corner of his eye Gareth watched Eddie shake himself to awareness, and then try to flip the knife with the same move Steve used on the bat's handle.

He fumbled it immediately, chasing the blade as it clattered to the ground.

"Why a candlestick?" Gareth asked quickly, before Steve turned and witnessed Eddie's awkward, scrambling retrieval.

"Jonathan tends to grab the weirdest shit as a weapon." Steve responded. "He's used a trophy, multiple chairs, a lamp," he made an etc. all gesture, as if any of that actually explained things instead of causing about ten more questions.

"The candlestick actually worked pretty well so I kept it." He finished.

"Jonathan Byers?" Eddie said, holding the knife once more and clearly pretending he'd never tried to copy Steve. "How very Cluedo of him."

Steve frowned, nose scrunching in confusion. "Cluedo?"

"He means the game Clue. It's called Cluedo in Europe, Eddie's just a tabletop snob." Gareth rambled anxiously, because throwing Jonathan Byers wielding a candlestick into the mix was just the icing on top of the weird cake.

Part of him wondered if it would be rude if he asked Steve to spin the bat again, while the other part vaguely wondered if any of this was actually happening.

Maybe Eddie had accidentally laced the pot with a hallucinogenic.

(Frankly he wasn't sure how he'd have missed the addition of extra drugs, but hey; you couldn't say that made any more sense than Steve Harrington, small town golden boy, parading around with a fucking bat with nails in it, using a walkie talkie to speak to children about how a thing might try to attack one of their friends.)

The kid’s involvement at least, made a little bit of sense.

They were young but they weren't that young--and they also weren't as quiet as they thought they were.

Particularly not when they were riled up at the arcade.

Gareth knew the lot of them thought one of the girls had superpowers. He also knew they often pretended Will Byers, the kid who'd gone missing, had spent some time acting as a "spy" for whatever evil they all pretended to be battling.

He'd mostly assumed it was a D&D-slash- LARP kind of thing, or even just traumatized kids playing pretend to cope with what had happened, but now?

"I might have lied about just having one question." Gareth admitted as Steve picked up his bat.

"I'll explain some of it later, after we get them out." Steve said, as if Gareth might actually trust him to do so after doing his damndest to dodge giving an explanation. 

"Lead on, Sir Harrington." Eddie said before Gareth could say just that, like the lovestruck idiot he was. "We're going to need both cars to carry our wayward friends home, so Gareth and I will follow your lead."

Eddie spun his keys around his fingers, and given the smirk on his face, Gareth would bet money he was hoping it looked as cool as Steve's bat handling.

It didn't.

"Provided you promise to try not to lose us, because I've lived here all my life, I know where the lab is." He finished, and somehow managed to make the words sound fun and not the blatant warning it was.

Steve nodded once, hard. "Alright. Stay close to my car, and flash your high beams twice if you run into any problems--or see like, people in suites."

"People in suites?" Eddie asked, the knife still clutched awkwardly in his hand.

"Government agent kinda dudes, they're easy to spot." Steve said, like he was cautioning them to look out for deer darting across the road. "They usually look like they shouldn't be wherever they are."

"Alright." Gareth said, before his brain could come up with a list of questions regarding that.

Steve slung himself into the front seat of his car, Gareth claiming shotgun in Eddie's van shortly thereafter.

They waited to let Steve out first, and then stayed right on his tail as Steve promptly broke multiple laws to get to the lab.

"So this is all ominous as hell, right?" Eddie said, metal music pouring from the vans speakers and eyes on the taillights of the beamer.

"Oh dude, incredibly ominous. There was blood on that candlestick. " Gareth said, still in disbelief.

Whose candlestick had that even belonged to, originally? At what point in all this had Steve decided to hammer nails into a baseball bat?

Nevermind the weapon he was trying not to think about in the trunk of Steve’s car.

The gun.

Gareth knew instinctively why neither of them had gone for it. Eddie's father had drilled into him that the extra charge for carrying was never worth it and Gareth's own father had a firm "if you point it then you might as well have used it" mentality.

Steve didn't look like the kind of person to handle killing someone well himself, and yet the gun remained, locked up in the back of his trunk.

An option he'd offered to both Eddie and Gareth without bothering to fully fill them in.

"Blood on the bat too." Eddie said, dragging Gareth's attention back to the present.

Which at least, gave Gareth an opening for familiar ground. "I'm surprised you noticed that, given you looked like you lost all the blood in your head when he started swinging it around."

"Shut up." Eddie grumped, and though normally Gareth would tease him more, he found he just...couldn't. 

Not right now.

"I'm more worried that they all kept calling whatever the thing was…well. A thing." He said, because God was it bothering him. “I mean I guess it could be an animal still but the way they were talking about it…” He trailed off, uncomfortable.

"Personally I'm hoping for monsters." Eddie said.

Gareth turned to shoot him a look. "Seriously Ed’s?"

"Mmm. Because if it's not monsters Gareth, it's humans," Eddie tapped the steering wheel in time with Metallica's For Whom the Bell Tolls. "and humans scare me more than anything."

 Gareth leaned back, letting the seat absorb him, his own eyes sticking to the back of Steve's head. "I guess." 

Not that he wanted to deal with either.

Best case scenario in all this?

Everyone got out safely, and they drilled Steve into what the hell had happened to him, later.

Not that life was ever that simple.

xXx

Tiff met them outside the lab.

The place was desolate. Abandoned with the kind of tell-tale signs that boldly stated something awful had happened there.

Papers and a chair were still left in the guard shack and a phone dangling off the hook completing the look. The lab itself was dotted with broken windows, the corresponding shattered glass glittering all over the ground.

All it was missing was some lightning and it would be a great location for a slasher film.

One set of odd, claw-like marks on the ground later, right near where they all parked, and Gareth abruptly decided he'd rather focus on Tiffany rather than follow that thought more. 

Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her expression annoyed, but the dead giveaway to her freaked out status was the way she couldn't seem to stop moving. Not even after they’d gotten out of their respective cars and started towards her.

Gareth hadn't seen her this bad since the day she temporarily lost her SAT guide.

It didn't bode well for the adventure ahead.

"Finally." She complained as the trio approached. "Did you three stop for milkshakes on the way!?"

"Traffic Tiff, you know how it is." Eddie said with an easy smile and a wave of his hand.

She simply gave a pointed look at her watch before glaring back at them.

"Steve!" Someone yelled, and Dustin promptly launched out of some corner at the older teen, babbling a mile a minute.

“Slow down, God!” Steve interrupted, doing a clear head to toe sweep of the kid. “You okay? Everyone good? Nobody dead?”

“Not yet!” Dustin said chipperly, which caused Steve to swat at his hat.

“Are you okay?” Gareth asked Tiff, as Steve and Dustin began talking rapid-fire, in the kind of way that spoke of past events and made little to no sense to anyone not in the loop.

"Yeah." Tiff nodded stiffly. “Would have been a lot happier if Stewart had listened to me for once, but.” She shrugged, her version of ‘it is what it is.’

Eddie reached out, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Is everyone else in the lab?” He asked, peering about.

He got another nod. “The room the idiot’s stuck in is just up the stairs and down the hall a bit. I’m amazed he didn’t get hurt, he fell through the ceiling.” She shook her head, clearly worried and trying her best not to show it. “Everyone’s kind of been wandering between there and here, but the random children who showed up are insisting we all walk around in groups.”

She turned to eye Dustin, before looking towards the entryway to the lab.

“Probably a good thing given the wall collapsed, but they all think there’s some,” She huffed, arms shrugging helplessly. “monster lurking about.”

Gareth stared at the lab entrance for a moment, once again taking in random stains and smears that were all around them. Spotted a few more of those weird, elongated claw marks raking down the stairs, spread more like fingers than anything else, and the group of them that surrounded a suspiciously large stain in the entryway. 

“What made you guys want to explore the lab tonight anyway? It’s Thursday.” Eddie asked. 

This earned him a more animated eye roll.

“Would you believe me if I told you I owed Jeff a favor, and he owed Grant a favor, and Grant got into it with Stewart over whether or not the lab had glowing goo hiding inside?"

“Glowing goo?” Eddie and Gareth echoed as one.

“Like what Mikey the bartender was saying last time he was drunk? The whole thing with that weird green goo that fell out of some truck?” Gareth asked, and it wasn’t the stupidest thing that had riled up Stewart and Grant but by God was it up there.

Tiff sighed a second time, sounding pained. “Yeah. That goo. Stewart kept insisting Mikey got a “hot tip” that some military guys knew it was here,” Her fingers came up to make the quotation marks, somehow managing to make the movement sarcastic. “and wanted it moved over to that new mall they’re building. Starcourt.”

“So Stewart had to come see it.” Eddie finished, as if he wouldn’t have also been dying to go get a look.

Frankly, Gareth himself was slightly annoyed he and Eddie hadn’t been called upon as it were.

“Mikey also apparently believes something else wants the goo and chased the military guys who were here out of the building. That part must be going around, because the kids here are pretty insistent there’s a monster inside.” Tiffany added, waving a hand towards Dustin.

Eddie made a move to slung his arm over her shoulder, giving her a full body squeeze before letting her go.

Tiff allowed it, and for the briefest of seconds, even seemed to lean in.

“Hello Steve, nice murder weapon.” She greeted loudly, entirely unphased by the nail bat in his hands as Hellfire’s jock and his favorite small annoyance stepped up to them. “Having met your children, I have to say, your parenting skills are utter shit.”

Dustin frowned up at her, instantly offended. “Steve’s our friend.” He corrected, angrily emphasizing ‘friend,’ right over the top of Steve’s loud protest of;

“It’s not a murder weapon, jeez!”

“If anyone is lacking in skills it’s your little group’s!” Dustin cut in, waving a hand around. “Not one of you was prepared for breaking into the lab! No weapons, no back up, you’re the only one who even had quarters and one of you isn’t even wearing a jacket. If we hadn’t shown up you guys would have been in some real shit!”

Tiff stared flatly down at Dustin, ignoring Steve entirely. “Sure, pipsqueak."

“What are you guys even doing here?” Steve asked, before Dustin could fuss more.

“Glowing goo, apparently.” Eddie answered, moving with him.

Tiffany took the hint, starting to walk towards the stairs as Dustin trotted forward next to her, clearly intending to “lead” just as much as she was.

Gareth watched from the corner of his eyes as Steve automatically stepped to Dustin’s right, making sure the kid was surrounded on all sides.

‘Fuckin’ softie.’ He thought fondly, even as he gripped the fire poker he held in his hand tighter.

Eddie had managed to stow the knife away, making it vanish somewhere among his jacket and Judas Priest shirt, so it was just him and Steve looking like lunatics.

Thankfully, Tiff had spared Gareth her opinion on the fire poker. 

“Goo?” Steve asked, and unlike the rest of them, he sounded downright alarmed.

“So there’s this bartender at the Hideout.” Eddie started, launching into the story with a lot more pizzazz than Gareth thought it really required. He and Tiff traded glances, and Gareth got to see the exact moment Dustin’s eyes caught sight of Eddie and went dinner plate wide.

Gareth would have nudged Tiff, maybe made a joke about how Eddie was gaining a new sheep just by his terminal need to be the loudest person in a room, but a movement on the left caught his gaze.

Gareth stopped, as something unmistakably fleshy slunk back in the shadows, one weirdly shaped paw flashing as something caught the light. 

Fear raked through him, freezing Gareth dead to the spot, hands tightening on his fire poker.

“Hey, guys? He asked, interrupting whatever story Eddie had inevitably gone off of (likely one of the many, many backstories involving Mikey the bartender’s belief in UFOs) “That monster the kids think they saw. What uh, what’s it supposed to look like?”

“Why?” Tiff asked, at the same time Eddie yelled at him to; “Keep up, Gary, god!”

Gareth didn’t answer, instead staring deep into the shadows.

Nothing moved.

‘You’re seeing things.’ He told himself finally. ‘Unless it went through solid fucking wall, you would still be able to see it. You're just stressing yourself out because Steve’s being weird.’

Fuck knows it wouldn’t be the first time he thought he saw something when his anxiety started acting up.

"So Gare, did you bring the fire poker along because of the monster?" Tiff asked, amused, as she briefly dropped back towards him.

Clearly, she'd just been waiting for an opening to tease him about it. 

He flushed scarlet. 

"No!" He spat, hugging the thing closer.

A grin unfurled on Tiff's face, Cheshire-esque.

"I'm serious, Steve told us to bring it!" Gareth insisted, trying to look manly with it.

He knew he failed as badly as Eddie had earlier.

"You know, I'm starting to think Eddie's not the only one gone on our human fighter…" Tiff trailed off, raising one eyebrow, and causing Gareth to flip her off.

Thankfully that train of conversation was interrupted by loud arguing.

“We’re not cats Steve, you can’t just put us outside!” One of the kids was bitching, the group having caught sight of Steve and hustling over.

Jeff was seated on the floor in the hallway, one hand holding up his chin while Grant leaned against the wall next to him, both looking incredibly bored.

Across from them was a door that had looked like it had survived a full-blown seige. Cracks ran throughout the wood, and with the entire center of it bowed inward it was clear why no one could manage to get Stewart out of the room.

It was completely wedged in the frame, with thick enough edges to make it impossible to just pop it out by hand. 

The hoard of gremlins were harder to make out now that they were all clumped together, but Gareth quickly made out their very….unique outfits.

Only the girls had dressed normally, while the boys looking like they either were planning on robbing a train.

Bandana’s over their faces and all.

“Yes, I can actually.” Steve retorted in the exact same bitchy tone. "Tiffany can stay with you guys by the cars while the rest of us figure out how to get Stewart.”

"Thanks for volunteering me." Tiff said flatly, but alas, was ignored by the group at large. 

“Really? So you don’t want El to, you know. Help.” The terminally loud one spat.

“El’s gonna dump your ass if you don’t stop talking for her, Mike.” Steve warned, making the girl puff up proudly while Mike immediately cut a fearful glance to his girlfriend.

“And if El could have helped before, why wait for me to get here?” Steve continued, one hand on his hip, the other resting the nail bat over his shoulder, cutting in before Mike's scrambled apology derailed the conversation.

“I cannot move the door.” El admitted in that sort of flat, blunt way she spoke. “There is something here that is making my powers unstable.”

Steve pointed to her, face morphing into a clear “see?” gesture.

“Now unless Dustin is going to science the door open somehow--and I’m not saying you couldn’t,” Steve spoke the second part quickly, as Dustin’s mouth popped open, “then all of you are going to wait outside. Where the demo-the thing, isn’t.”

Gareth really, really hated how he kept referring to it as a thing.

One of the kids rolled their eyes and muttered; “We literally said we don’t know if it’s a--” and promptly got elbowed in the stomach for it.

Right.

Not suspicious at all.

“But we can help!” Dustin protested furiously.

Gareth wasn't sure if it was because Dustin truly thought he could help, or if it was because he wasn't used to the pushback.

For all that he was an only child, Steve had clearly inherited an older brother's prerogative of letting kids do stupid shit so long as he supervised (and typically, laughed at the outcome.

Gareth still fondly recalled the time Mike declared himself man enough to smoke.

Steve had conned him into chainsmoking outside the arcade until the kid finally threw up in the bushes on his fourth cigarette and declared Steve's smoking habit disgusting.)

“El could help.” Steve countered calmly. “Max probably, if I gave her my bat, but the rest of you are just moving targets. So make like a drum, and beat it.”

"That was lame, Steve." Dustin sniffed, while the other kids groaned loudly. “A real low effort pun.”

Steve just flicked his hand out in a shoo motion before leaning his bat up against the wall.

Jeff stared it before making immediate eye contact with Gareth, every inch of him screaming ‘what the hell!’

With a sigh, and an unfortunate side glance at Tiff, Gareth explained; “It’s for the monster.”

That at least, was easier than explaining Steve knew what was here and was doing his damndest not to tell them what it was.

Even if it made Tiff grin manically in his direction. 

His only relief was that Steve got her attention right after, calling "Heads up!" before tossing her his car keys. 

Because her hand eye coordination was superior to Eddie’s, she caught them easily.

If there's an emergency, get them out." Steve warned, voice just over the edge of too serious, losing the banter he’d kept up since they’d arrived.

"If there's an emergency we're coming back on to save your ass." Dustin snapped back, arms crossed, because of course he was listening.

“No.” Steve told him simply.

“Yes.”

“No, no, no-!”

Tiff let out a sharp whistle, the sound piercing in the echoing hallway.

"Gremlins with me!" She commanded, before catching Steve's eyes over their heads . "You fucking owe me, Harrington."

He nodded, before dropping a glare to the kids. "Just don't let them drive my car."

“God I can’t believe he’s still upset about that, it’s not like we fucked up the Camaro.” Mike complained loudly, allowing himself to be herded back outdoors.

“Max did hit a mailbox.” Lucas retorted, and then yelped a loud; “Ow, Max!” as he was presumably punished for voicing the fact out loud.

Their voices faded slightly as they went down the stairs, and Gareth managed to drag his attention back to the problem at hand.

One very fucked up door.

"Do you think we could kick it down?” Steve asked, as Eddie bent down to examine the door.

Refusing to look anyone in the face, Jeff said; “We may have tried that already.” 

“My darling lambs, you’re approaching this wrong.” Eddie cooed, and got several glares for it.

“The door might be fucked by the hinges here, are not. Looks like all I need is the right screwdriver and lucky for Stewart!--” He yelled his friend's name, banging on the door and no doubt hoping to spook him.

A muffled shout of “Screw you Munson!” was all he got for his efforts.

 “--I have my toolbox in my car.”

“Do I want to know what you have a toolbox for, Ed's?” Steve asked.

“Perfectly legal avenues only, I assure you.” Eddie replied, batting his eyelashes up at Steve innocently.

Grant and Jeff both gagged.

“Would the two of you gentlemen be so kind as to fetch me my box?” Eddie said, pulling out his keys and offering them up to Jeff. “I want to try one more thing. I don’t think it’ll work, but I can test it while you boys are gone.”

“He’s going to try to kick it in himself.” Gareth tattled flatly.

“I am not!” Eddie immediately denied, eyes wide in feigned hurt.

It was fake as shit.

“Let him!” Jeff said over as he got up. “That way I won’t be the only one getting made fun of for doing it!”

A car suddenly honked from outside, startling them all.

“Check that the shitheads aren’t murdering Tiff while you’re out there!” Steve called as Jeff and Grant took off towards the entrance, before moving out of Eddie’s way as he surged upwards.

“It’s more likely she’d be murdering them.” Eddie replied, and sure enough he was backing up like he was going to try and kick the door.

“Do you see how thick that thing is? The indent, here?” Steve sassed, pointing towards the giant dent slightly off center, where the door bowed inwards. “I’m pretty sure Jeff wasn’t the one who did that. These things are built to hold, man.”

“Ah but you’ve seen Jeffery's legs. Our beloved new cleric should stick to punching things, he’s not made for kicking.” Eddie said, tongue peaking out of his mouth as he sized up the door.

An odd, low chittering caught Gareth’s attention, the noise like nails on a chalkboard as the older teens continued to argue. 

“Have you seen yourself?” Steve asked point blank, hip cocked and bitch mode on. “You aren’t either.”

“Don’t be mean, Steven, just because I don’t have jock muscles--”

The chittering got louder, and Gareth found himself taking a few steps away from his friends, in the opposite direction of the stairs as he tried to figure out where the fuck it was coming from. 

A light at the farthest end of the long hallway gave out, barely noticeable. unless one was looking for it. Gareth hadn't even internalized the hallway had lighting, he'd been too busying with everything else--but it did. 

Likely the place had a backup generator, but that didn't explain why the lights in this hallway were on--and now, suddenly, giving out. 

'Maybe the kids did it...?' He thought, still trying to figure out why the chittering sounded like it was getting closer. 

“You’re going to break your leg.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you need to believe in people more Stevie? Have some faith?”

“I have faith that you’re face is about to hit the floor, does that count?”

Another light failed, giving the appearance of the hallway warping. Not all of it, just one weird wall, that seemed to stretch like something was trying to break out. 

"Okay but if I kick the door and it busts in, you owe me ten bucks."

"If you kick the door down not only will I give you ten bucks, Eddie, I'll go see that stupid new movie you won't shut up about with you." 

"Oh we'll be seeing Fright Night with or without my door busting talents--" 

Another light, out, and now Gareth could see a shape taking form. Later he'd swear it had actually, crawled out from the wall.

(Later, he'd find out the Upside Down creatures had a habit of doing that.)

He thought it was a tiger at first.

It has the same overall shape--long body with muscular shoulders, head low as it prowled forward.

Except the tail curled up over its back, hanging like a scorpion’s and its face…

It took a second for Gareth to make sense of what he was seeing.

The huge, oddly shaped bulb, like a flower’s before it unfurled.

Thick liquid drooled out from red tinged edges, dripping onto the floor. It was too far away to hear, but Gareth imagined the little plinks of noise it made anyway.

"Guys." He said, voice pitched impossibly high.

The Not-Tiger stepped further into the light, revealing it to be hairless.

Its skin was flecked red and grotesquely gray, with odd, thick folds of flesh hanging off its sides. Those pieces moved in weird little jerks and flutters, almost like another appendage entirely.

Another step forward, the weird, folded pieces of skin moving out and out and out on either side of it, hitching up in a U shape and oh, God.

They were wings.

'Lion body, scorpion tail, dragon wings.' A far off part of Gareth identified. 'It's missing the human face, but otherwise that's pretty dead on for a--"

"Manticore!" Gareth screamed, right as the things head split open into five petals filled with rows of fangs.

It screamed right back, then lunged at him, claws and teeth and tail all extending to attack.

[daffi-990]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday ✍️

It’s Sunday for me so here’s a small eight sentence tease of a snippet from the ladder truck bombing from Rival Firefighters 🚒 (I’m pretty sure it’s eight sentences … I don’t want to recount so we’re going with eight).

Gosh I really really really want to share everything I’ve written for the bombing because your girl needs validation, but I don’t want to share everything haha. The struggle is real 😅

Prev snippet here.

Collateral damage.

Freddie says the words with a shrug like he’s not talking about a fucking life and the fury burning inside Eddie grows hotter. This guy doesn’t give a shit about the people he’s hurt, so blinded by his stupid quest for revenge. Eddie isn’t aware his hands are clenched and shaking, nails digging into the skin of his palms, until there’s a hand on his wrist and Hen’s voice is drifting into his ear, soft and gentle like a trickling stream.

“I know you’re angry, I am too,” she slides her hand down from his wrist to slowly pry his hand open, “but Buck needs us to be calm and in control of ourselves right now, okay Eddie?” Her hand slips into his and she squeezes gently. Eddie can feel the stickiness of blood between their palms from his fingernails. “Trust Bobby, he hasn’t let us down so far, I don’t think he’s planning on starting today.”

No pressure tagging: @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @malewifediaz @wikiangela @spotsandsocks @wildlife4life @exhuastedpigeon @monsterrae1 @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @mellaithwen @nmcggg @steadfastsaturnsrings @shitouttabuck @sibylsleaves @bekkachaos @captain-hen @loserdiaz @rewritetheending @rainbow-nerdss @tizniz @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @fiona-fififi @fortheloveofbuddie @fcntasmas @hoodie-buck @homerforsure @honestlydarkprincess @giddyupbuck @glorious-spoon @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @puppyboybuckley @princessfbi @vampbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @buckactuallys @prettyboybuckley @starlingbite @athenagranted @fallingthorns and anyone else who wants to play ❤️

[bonefall]

NEVER STOP!!! everytime I get mad over DOTC I just come onto your page and read your Gray Wing slander and immediately feel better, thanks muchly! 😌✨️

I am but a humble DOTC Slander ranger, riding across the sunlit horizon with a big iron on my hip, putting every hater's formless frustration into the words you felt but did not realize how to say ✨️

[thatbuddie]

i'm sorry. i have kept quiet about this for so so so long. but i can't any longer. i'm just sorry.

if you call buck "evan" you don't understand him as a character. if you call buck "evan" you don't understand the show.

the minute someone refers to buck as "evan" they are immediately telling on themselves.

[sainzstorms]

everyone that says 'percy is not stupid he just thinks he is' is actually so right, that's like borderline self-sabotage and sometimes adhd-ers does that. it's just that this time the show isn't fully from percy's pov. the boy can think when he wants and needs too, he's just slow sometimes.

[gen-0]

POV: you just watched Bakugo Katsuki: Rising

[koheletgirl]

ok so i don't personally believe in the 2 states solution (for a myriad of reasons i won't get into now), but why does it seem like everyone who supports it these days is labeled as a zionist? i know why i might think that, but i doubt it's for the same reasons so i'm genuinely asking here

[unsat-and-strange]

oh yeah hey btw car doodles because the creations and consequences au is living in my brain

kinda id? more explanation of thoughts, let me know if y'all want a real image id

fae lyf fae lyf fae lyf I have decided they have wings and their wings were stained black from soot for years after the war (its only after a few years at the castle Tim and Bertie realize oh their wings arent black anymore wait do fae wings change colors oh wait it's because of all the fire and smoke and stuff oh shit)

Marius climbing in the window :) my silly, I love him

head chef and chief interrogator raphaella la cognizi looking absolutely menacing (is she about to cut some tomatoes or some tendons? it's up to you!) (sidenote what if before she came to the castle she was trying to dissect some corpses for better understanding of anatomy so that y'know medical understanding could be better but people weren't fans of her um desecrating the dead so she had to dip out)

I had the idea of kettle ashes being able to express themself via a genie type steam projection? idk thought it would be fun and also easier for any artists out there

fae carmilla fae carmilla fae carmilla I just think she's neat and I think it's funny if she's somehow connected to like everyone's backstory just a tiny bit

carmilla and nastya, I think they must have been pretty close. carmilla didn't want nastya to take the blame for the curse, but nastya knew jonny needed a stable relationship with carmilla more than one with her (as much as either situation sucked)

ivy design? my thoughts are either an advisor or the castle librarian, her little crown thing is enchanted to enhance her memory

lyf and ashes judging you (pre and post curse versions). you cannot tell me they didn't have gossip sessions about everyone in the castle. they absolutely did.

@rocksanddeadflowers @blazeismyname I'm begging y'all to keep coming up with ideas for me to draw because this is the least art block I've had in so so long and I adore this au

[squarebracketsmileyface]

Chapter 3 of If It Ain't Broken is currently 8.7k, whoops. It's all for a good cause though, that cause being: showing that Jay can be a manipulative little shit.

he's not doing it thinking "okay I'm going to manipulate them" but he is trying to get them to reassure him that he isn't manipulative by using words and a panicked tone of voice that makes them want to look after him? Like, he's doing it purposefully, but he's not consciously thinking "okay I'm going to manipulate them into telling me I'm not manipulative," if that makes sense?

he hates being called manipulative so obviously he is genuinely upset, but he's still being manipulative to get his friends to reassure him?

Like this

[catsafari25]

A/N: Hello! This is my first foray into bionicle fic, where I wanted to explore a possible line of reasoning that Roodaka might have used to turn Vakama against the Rahaga specifically... and then this became a Roodaka-POV fic because villainous POVs are so muxh fun to write (plus it makes it distinct from the book version).

Please forgive any glaring inaccuracies; until a week ago, I'd only ever seen the films and am still familiarising myself with the lore/other content!

x

Roodaka almost doesn't recognise the creature her Visorak bring to her.

Almost.

There is more the monster than the Matoran, more the Rahi than the Toa, about the once-warrior now, and the two sides war in odd ways across the ensuing form. The limbs are elongated, but erratically; one side might almost be called Toa-like if one was feeling generous, while the other ends in a wicked-looking blazer claw. The mask bears the least resemblance to its former shape, a mockery of the Great Kanohi it had once been.

"Alone, you say?" she asks the Visorak.

It bows its head in the best approximation its spidery form can muster, and chitters in its gnashing tongue a tale of a single Toa Hordika wandering far from its pack. Then, after a dubious pause, it asks if it should send word to the King. 

"No."

More chittering, nervous now.

Roodaka snaps her head away from the unconscious Toa. "Do you doubt me?" she hisses.

The Visorak shakes, as if knowing all too well that any alternative answer will lead to a rapid drop in its quality of life, followed by the abrupt cessation of it. It instinctively lowers itself to the ground, reassuring her it knows exactly how far down it hangs in the pecking order.

Roodaka is mollified enough to let the infraction pass. "Why bring Sidorak back for one captured Toa when he is still in pursuit of the other five?" she croons. Fear works wonders, but a pinch of reason never does any harm. "Better to let him focus on the task at hand, and have this as a pleasant surprise upon his return."

The Visorak doesn't respond immediately. Then, in as careful tones as its speech will allow, asks what is to be done with the Toa.

What to be done, indeed?

A more cautious Vortixx than she might harvest the elemental power now – one fewer strand in her web to tie up later – but, then again... he is only one Toa, and she needs all six for her scheme to succeed.

"Keep him somewhere he won't cause trouble," she orders. And then, "No cocoons. I want him to be able to wake eventually."

After all, live bait is always a better lure.

x

The Toa returns to consciousness the same way he left it: alone.

So much for their precious unity, Roodaka scorns. The reports from the Visorak tell of the other Toa moving across Ga-Metru, with apparently no looking back for their missing companion. Is it confidence in his capabilities that leaves them unaffected, or something more... fractured?

Either way, she is left with a Toa on her hands, alive and kicking and doing precious little to serve as the bait he should have been.

That's fine. She can work with this.

Awake, the Toa's reaction to the Hordika venom is ever more marked; his movements are capricious, tarnished with that feral fear of a caged Rahi, and there is little left of the tactician leader the Toa had once been.

So she leaves him to it. Sidorak is not due back yet – not unless he captures the other Toa, and the whispers that reach Roodaka tell of a merry chase – so she has time. Let the Toa wallow in his fear and his desperation for a little while longer. Let him descend further into his rage.

She can wait.

x

It is only once the howls begin that Roodaka makes her approach.

She has heard the like before, when an ash bear had fallen into a freshly-made crevice, courtesy of the quakes, and broken a limb. It had howled all through the night, calling for its kin and only summoning the Visorak instead.

The howls hadn't lasted long after that.

The howls of the Toa are similarly primal, gutteral with a wordless rage that sends him reeling in its wake. Only when she hears his horrified, "What is happening to me?" that she realises she is surprised to hear speech still remains. If the venom keeps up its course, it may not be long before even that is gone.

An idea takes root, insidious and brutal if she can pull it off. After all even a beast, if it retains some semblence of language, can be reasoned with.

Or manipulated.

He was found alone, her Visorak had told her. And alone he still was. A strange state of affairs for a Toa... but perhaps not so much for a Hordika.

"You are becoming," she rattles.

The Toa scoffs, ire curdling the sound. "Yeah, but what?"

She steps into the light. The Toa keeps his gaze averted as she nears, evidence enough that the Hordika in him knows not to challenge with a stare. She crouches before him, one claw catching the base of his mask and tilting his eyes to meet hers. The eyes, she sees, still carry a Toa spark. The rest is Hordika. "A friend," she offers.

He snarls and tears his gaze away.

"Or a foe," she adds. She rises back to her full height. "That's for you to decide, and why I invited you here."

"Some invitation."

She surveys her captive. Hordika venom is such a messy process, Roodaka can't help but judge. It lacks the finesse, the cruel creativity of her own power, changing at random what would be better done with intent.

Still, she cannot fault its effectiveness. It might be a sledgehammer to her chisel, but in a matter of days it has reduced the Toa responsible for trapping the Makuta into something belonging to a Matoran's nightmare.

"Then perhaps this one will be more to your liking," she says. "I have a... proposal for you."

"And if I don't want to hear it?"

Roodaka smiles, and approaches the Toa once more. From this proximity, she can appreciate the subtler touches of the Hordika venom – the joints that fit at odd angles, the crude connection between the Rhotuka spinner and armour – and as she brings his gaze to meet hers once more, she sees rust-flecked spots across his mask. A side effect of the mask losing its powers? Or a consequence alone of the Hordika venom?

"Be reasonable, Vakama," she croons.

"How do you know my name?"

Her hand dips from the mask and lingers before his heartlight. It's green, she notes; a far cry from the burnished red that had once matched his eyes. A sign, perhaps, that her plan has merit. After all, if the venom has already taken root there, it's only a matter of time before it spreads further.

"I know a great deal about you," she says, and cleaves a claw through the webbing that binds him. "What harm could come from listening?"

And when she tips his gaze again, he does not look away.

x

While fools might prattle on about the power of love or loyalty as a driving force, Roodaka knows power itself is the strongest motivator of all. And so she speaks to the fragmented Toa of strength and fear and authority; things she knows the once-leader has fought with himself. As a show of her own confidence, she allows him to trail behind, and only once does she hear the whirr of his spinner warming up.

("I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Vakama," she had warned without even glancing to him.)

("Then perhaps you should know better than to turn your back on someone," he had replied. "What's to stop me blasting you off the face of Metru Nui?")

(She had gestured almost lazily to the Visorak guard trailing them. "You can try, if you so wish. But how far do you think you'll get before you're trapped in another web?" She had waited for this thought to sink in before adding, "Who knows what another round of Hordika venom would do the second time? That is, assuming you ever wake.")

The Rhotuka spinner quietened after that, and Roodaka hasn't heard it since. Just enough sense left in him, then, to listen to reason. And listen he does, albeit not without complaint.

She wasn't lying when she said she knew about him – from the whispers of Makuta, from the reports of the Visorak, she knows enough to know where the Toa's insecurities lie. She brings him to a balcony that overlooks his old home.

Ta-Metru still glows with the light of fires and molten protodermis, but rather than forges and foundries hard at work, it is the result of cracked furnaces and flooded lava that raises such smoke. Still, there is enough to leave the Toa scrambling to the edge to catch just a glimpse of his metru.

In better times, it would have been his to protect, the same way the Toa of Fire before had, but now it is only a place to be fled. So she offers him the chance to change that, talks of leading the Visorak to rule rather than ruin.

And when she orders her own guard plummeting over the edge and they follow – not because they trust her, not because they think she has a plan, but purely because not following is a worse fate than an almost-certain death – she knows she has his attention. "Obediance," she proclaims. "This is but the first of many lessons I can teach you."

The Toa hesitates. But not as much as he ought to. "And this is something your king would allow?"

"There is a way," she purrs. "Six ways."

She senses something shift then, the balance of the conversation tipping in her favour as a wall, somewhere, comes tumbling down.

And when Vakama looks to her, it isn't the gaze of a Toa, but of a Hordika.

"I'm listening."

"Good." Roodaka starts towards the main body of the tower, and only hears the slightest falter before Vakama follows after her. His shambling gait is still the noisy thing it was before, but now there is a pattern to it. A natural rhythm.

"If you wish to gain Sidorak's trust, you must prove yourself," she says. "The Rahaga have been a thorn in Sidorak's side for too long; deliver them, and he will surely see your worth."

The Toa stills. "The... Rahaga?" There is hesitation in his voice, as if even he is surprised that his response is not the outright refusal it once would have been. "What have they done?"

"They are meddlesome creatures, as I'm sure you've discovered, too fond of interfering where they don't belong."

"Like saving your captives from certain death?" he asks.

Roodaka smiles, and ignores the bite in the question. "Do you think they rescued you for anything but their own purposes?" she returns. "Or are you blind enough to think it was purely an act of selfless generosity?"

A growl rises through the Toa, and she hears him continue behind her. "What are you saying?"

"Only that if they were rescuing you solely from an untainted sense of duty, then where are they now?" Roodaka glances back and reads the defensive hitch of the Toa's shoulders. "Where are any of your friends, Vakama?"

"Like I would tell you–"

"You don't need to. I know where they are. The question is: Do you?"

Vakama doesn't meet her gaze. "If you're thinking that I'm expecting any sort of great rescue–"

"I never said anything of the sort," Roodaka croons. She doesn't need to. By the sound of things, his mind is already doing it for her, wondering when the other Toa will realise he's not coming back. Wondering if they will even care. "Only, how sure are you that they will follow their duty without you to guide them?"

"Toa are bound to their duty," Vakama begins.

"Of course. As they are to their unity." Roodaka gives this a moment to sink in to the lone Hordika Toa. "And their destiny."

The once-Toa of Fire has no reply to that, and that is all Roodaka needs to know the truth of their origins have come to light. She steps out onto a neighbouring balcony, but Vakama lingers in the archway.

She motions to him. "Come along."

He begrudgingly does so, and his gaze finds little of interest in the waterway metru below. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Because this is where your friends are."

Vakama takes a second look at Ga-Metru, overrun with webs but presumably still recognisable from its better days. His head tilts, his eyes narrow. "Ga-Metru? Why...?"

"My Visorak say the Rahaga are leading them to the Great Temple," Roodaka relays, and this indeed is true enough. "They say the Rahaga are seeking an ancient Rahi, the next steps of which they hope to find within the temple."

"Keetongu," Vakama mutters.

"Yes."

Vakama wars with this knowledge, the conflict clear in his silence and his mask. Then, in a halting, hating tone, "The Matoran–"

"Are not the Rahaga's priority," Roodaka finishes. "Don't you see that, now? Why else would they turn the other Toa away from their duty the moment you weren't there to remind them? All they want is to chase after a Rahi myth, and with the help of Toa, they finally have the strength to do so." She sets a clawed hand upon his shoulder, anchoring him. "The Rahaga are not all they appear, Vakama."

A scoff rises through the Toa. "They are old and weak."

"They were not always so," she says. "Once, they were Toa like you, until their meddling left them as the malformed creatures they are now. That is why they truly seek Keetongu; they believe he has the power to undo their change."

It is a half truth, but one supported by enough that the Toa has no reason to doubt her. He has no way to know Roodaka's powers were the catalyst of the Rahaga's transformation, nor that nothing – no mythical Rahi, no Kanohi power – can unravel their altered forms.

Her hand tightens. "Or perhaps you've already begun to suspect the truth?"

A tremor in his breathing betrays that questions of the Rahagas' origins have crossed his mind before, but only now is he realising the possible ramifications of it. "They want to find Keetongu for themselves," he snarls.

"And they need the support of the other Toa to do it," Roodaka says. "Now do you understand? They are not your allies, Vakama; they are parasites. And you know what should be done with parasites."

"Yes," he growls. "I do."

[honey-dont]

steve and cesare def both consider their respective crews to be ‘their’ humans but in a kind of “oops i accidentally got attached” way

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

The Winged Servant - 5

cws: multiple whumpers mentioned (only one doing actual whumping here), winged whumpee, electrocution by shock collar, royal whumper, mentions of restricting food, accidental self-harm, let me know if I missed anything!

masterlist

“Honestly, I feel like just letting you skip dinner would be a better fitting punishment.” I did my best to keep my wings from shaking while Prince Ryan tightened the collar by one notch. “You were late giving her food, so your food is restricted. Natural consequences and all that. But you know how she is about corporal punishment. And since she’s the one you messed up in front of, she gets to decide.”

He fiddled with the remote, presumably changing the settings so that it would hurt more. I would not shake. I needed to be able to stay composed.

“You’re getting three shocks. One for each minute you were late. Does that seem fair?”

“I will accept whatever punishment you see as fit, Your Highness.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I know you will.”

The first shock wasn’t bad. I arched my back and gasped a little, but it was almost the same as the shocks that woke me up every morning.

The second shock would be worse. That was how it worked—the shock was a bit stronger every time. The worst part wasn’t the actual shock, though. No, the worst part was waiting for the next one and not being sure when it would come. I closed my eyes so that I couldn’t stare at the remote, waiting for the shock to hit. I took a slow breath, and-

Fuck.

A strangled noise escaped my throat, and I bit down on my fist to keep any more sound from getting out. I bit until I tasted blood, trying not to sway, before I finally dropped my hand back to my side. “Sorry, I- My apologies. Your Highness.”

“You’re good. You can make noise if you’d like.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Mm. You wanna sit down for the third one? Your legs already look pretty shaky, and the last one is always the worst."

Had they always been this bad? Before I’d been properly trained, I’d had to sit through ten, getting worse at every level, and here I was with shaky legs at the second level.

“I need an answer, Onyx. It’s not like I electrocuted you enough to kill your vocal chords.”

“My apologies, Your Highness. I’ll- yeah, I’ll sit down. Thank you for offering.”

Her Majesty liked it when I was graceful. Prince Ryan wasn’t as particular, which was good, because I wasn’t sure how much gracefulness I had left in me as I collapsed to my knees. Tears pricked at the edges of my eyes, and I took a slow breath. Crying wouldn’t help me right now. Crying would probably make everything worse, because I’d already been told not to. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe-

Fuck fuck fuck that fucking hurts fuck.

It took a moment for my eyes to focus on Prince Ryan’s face in front of me. I wasn’t sure if it was because I’d kept my eyes closed or if the shock had been bad enough to mess with my eyesight, but it didn’t really matter.

“Breathe,” Prince Ryan told me, pulling the collar off. “You’ve done this before. You’re okay.” I nodded, trying to stay focused, and he tilted my chin up, making sure there wasn’t any damage that would last. “You did such a good job.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” My voice was slightly raspy. Had I screamed during the last shock? I didn’t remember screaming, but that didn’t mean much.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve had this particular punishment, hasn’t it?” Prince Ryan wondered, but he didn’t look like he really wanted a response. “A year at least. I suppose whatever tolerance you’d had for the higher levels has left.” His fingers ghosted over where I’d bit into my hand, but didn’t quite make contact. “I’m not going to clean that. It’s small. It’ll be fine as long as you don’t pick at the scab, but please don’t do that again.”

“Do what, Your Highness?”

“Bite yourself. You didn’t mean to, did you?”

“No, Your Highness. My apologies.”

“You’re fine for today, but I can’t have you hurting yourself while I’m trying to punish you for specific things, alright? It’ll mess with your conditioning. If you get back into that habit I'm going to start muzzling you for punishments again. No one wants that.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” I did not want that. I would take whatever the royal family gave me during punishments, of course, because good servants did not have wants, but the texture of the bit in the muzzle always made me feel weird.

“Good. Okay. Tell me what you did wrong.”

“My sincerest apologies, Your Highness. I shouldn’t have been late taking Her Majesty's breakfast to her. It won’t happen again. Thank you for punishing me so that I remember not to repeat my mistakes.”

“Good boy,” he murmured, running fingers through my hair, and I let myself lean into his touch. That was always the phrase that meant we were done. I had done well enough. I wouldn’t be punished any more.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Do you need a second? You’ve got about twelve minutes until Jayden needs your help serving dinner, and as long as you’re there on time, I don’t care if you take a break for now.”

“I, um.” I blinked hard. “Servants exist to please the crown, Your Highness. I don’t need-”

“I’m offering a break to you, Onyx. If you’d rather make sure dinner is all prepared, you can do that, but I won’t object if you’d like a few minutes to recover. We’re going to be… leaving for a bit tonight, and I don’t want you all pitiful and anxious like you were earlier. Okay?”

Prince Cardan was the only one who ever tried to trick me into things, but this felt like a trap. Prince Ryan looked serious, and like he wasn’t making fun of me, and wouldn’t it be rude to refuse a gift offered to me? “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Make sure to turn the light off when you leave the room.”

I didn’t cry when he left, because I was down to probably eleven minutes and that almost certainly wasn’t enough time to cry. It’d have to be enough time to pull myself together, though. If I could do it in the three minutes I had before the punishment, I could do it in the eleven minutes after.

Breathe in, breathe out. I could do this, I knew how. Crying served no purpose and I didn’t need to do it.

Nine minutes left, I estimated.

Nine would have to do.

~

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