#now i have to level her and Blade and then go back to grinding destruction mats

[lesenbyan]

\o/ Clara get!!! Now I'm only missing Bronya, Topaz, Huohuo, and Fu Xuan. And three of those I have to wait to be rerun and then cross my fingers

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 12: Ch 5

Previous

Summary: The fate of the universe will be decided in the final five chapters.

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

Coming from my chest, a wave of yellow light enveloped every inch of my skin. It causes my hair to look as if it is combusted, consumed by fire. Bright orange, almost honeyed, with hints of white flames, floated around my line of sight, acting like my hair. I radiate brighter than ever before. I am heated, and a burning sensation flared across my arms and face. A character from the universe’s first language scorches my skin repeatedly, elevating from bone, and for the first time, I’m able to understand what it says. The expression is roughly translated as “strength.” I have become quite literally what the universe needs. 

Seven’s bond is now whipping towards me, cracking and causing a sonic boom as it cuts through the air. The hurricane of energy pummels me, blowing my aura in the opposite direction. The metallic whip is an inch from making contact with my face for the second time, but I bring the bits and pieces of what was once the flat, broad, and sharp part of my trusted sword, the late Licata’s broken gift, and block it. 

Wapeesh. 

It strikes it. A flicker of its electricity springs away from the contact point and grazes my shield as it returns back to the uglier of the two Lords left. In the middle of my success is Four thrusting their sword. It pressed against Saamuki’s blood-red sword, which funny enough looks much more heavenly than Four’s pretentious light sword, grinding, and half a heartbeat off from making a hole into the squishing muscle between my creasing eyebrows. I throw their sword off of mine. It stabs the floor and gets stuck. Four tries prying it free, giving me time to turn on the offensive. I can hear Seven’s chains rattling as it’s being waved towards me. After tearing the air, I send the fragments of my blade towards the way too enthusiastic Lord’s closing wound as they’re smiling while watching my scattered, flying weapon coming towards them. My weapon pushes the Lord’s weapon back to them and then is about to dig through their all-white, too bright cloak into whatever their flesh has become. They deviate away from its direction at the last minute. Seven is annoyingly theatrical, after all, but at least I finally landed a hit on Four. Saamuki’s sword slices through the monstrous figure before me. A cut has been made through their stomach, but seeing the Lord’s blood on her sword is an eyesore. There’s a drastic contrast between the dark shade of red and the bright yellow along the tip, dripping towards the crossguard. 

Four’s sword pops out of the ground while I flick their blood off. The Lord grips the wound and looks at me with shock as their teeth point away from the hole in their face, then interest. “Congratulations. You’re not wasting my time,” Four sarcastically affirmed after their teeth clink together. Speaking of clinking, again, Seven’s whip comes at me. Its suddenness pushes me, but I’m able to block it. “You’ve gotten respectfully stronger in such a short amount of time. One would be jealous, but it’s not enough.”

Summoned a second sword, the two clashed with the single sword in my hand. It sends out a ringing sound with each swift and brutal hit, causes a deepening crack in the unfortunate blade in my hands, and pushes me towards Bichak. Seven is the least of my worries as they continue to hit at my side, rougher than before, but my shield won’t hold on much longer as well. As for Bichak, who’s at my back in pain, his words enter my head without opening his mouth. “Please hold on.” 

Both weapons in my possession snap. Saamuki’s sword breaks into two, and my shield explodes, sent to dust. I sandwich the two of us, the only ones left, in a cube. The four Lords, whose bodies are decaying, have their essence passing through. Finally, we’re safe from danger. Although, it’s only a matter of time before this breaks because I’m on one knee with my arms at eye level. The two Lords continue to attack. Four clashes their swords, and Seven lashes against the illusion. The two break into it. Pieces of wall and the roof rain down on us and fade once they land on the floor. I quickly patch it up, but that took too much out of me, so I only have one arm in the air. 

Something hits the floor behind me. Turning around, I see Bichak’s tears are red. He’s bleeding out of his eyes. His light is fading as he’s trying to use the book to stand back up, but the crystals are still spinning around him. They’ve either been spinning faster, or I imagine them to. Either way, despair is clearly plastered on our faces. Because of it, the words on my arm now mock me. My face looks bitter, but I’m crying. It all finally hits me. Saamuki is dead. Syco is dying. Kaishi and the others are going too soon if they aren’t already. Mikrovos stabbed all of us in the back. So much pain. Too many sacrifices. We had to endure it for so long, and for what? 

I’m sorry, everyone. 

I can’t do this.

I can’t be anything but a failure. 

A familiar voice sighs, “Not this again.” One of Four’s swords went right through the roof and would’ve killed me if it weren’t for the owner behind that voice jerking me away. Shiitakee is sitting between me and Bichak, who seems to not notice the spirit and thankfully not me talking to my deceased mushroom friend because it would’ve looked like I’m talking to nothing from his point of view. 

Gleefully through hiccups, I admit my relief, “Shiitakee, you’re back.” My smile is turned back into a frown. “We’re all going to die. Your sacrifice will go in vain.”

“Well, yeah, it will if you keep sulking in the middle of a fight. I’m surprised you’re not dead yet, but I praise whatever higher being is out there that you’re not. The universe needs people like you, and I’d rather not have this no-smoking life I now have been for nothing.” He touches my shoulder, and once again, he recharges me. I’m glowing again. 

“But I’m never going to be enough. I wasn’t enough to save Saamuki.”

“You sure about that?” 

A ball of blue light zooms past us and smashes Four. Four falls back. Their swords stab the ground before they stumble back further, and Seven is blasted away. They spin in the air before falling face first. Watchers are trying to help the latter Lord back up. Saamuki is fully healed, blue, and is floating above us. The blue fire swirling around her doubles in size, and with it, the temperature skyrockets, heating the room as she shrieks out, “They’re dead now because of you!” 

She charges towards Four again. Four lunges at her with both swords, but they just go right through her afterimage. She reappears at their right and punches them right across the face. The Lord nearly trips on their footing when forced to the left.

Left and right, Saamuki is punching. Four barely has time to counter. All they’re able to do is try to shield themselves, but her punches are causing their swords to crack. It’s only a matter of—

Both shatter, and the sudden release of energy pushes Four back. Before Four can create two new ones, Saamuki is charging up for a blast, but Seven is creeping up on her. Their whip ruptures the air around it. It flings towards her, and as I cause this already disintegrating six-shaped barrier to vanish so I can deflect the incoming weapon by blasting it away, someone jumps on the seemingly slowly disappearing illusion and shoots at the incoming blast’s owner. At the same time, Saamuki fires with a shout. It would’ve easily destroyed a planet.

Half of Four is smoldering. Their blood is spurting and oozing, but their body is slowly fixing itself. Not only are they a lighter shade of yellow, but also transparent, tiny tentacles are wiggling from the destruction and wrapping across the wound. They harden when they flatten across what’s left of the Lord’s body. Saamuki can’t do anything in fear of the consequences of killing a Lord. The explosion, release of energy, may have the power to detonate a solar system, but most importantly, it will kill all of us instantly. 

Kaishi, whose faintly glowing blue lands in front of me, is watching Seven’s reaction. Seven is holding the side of their face where a couple of their eyes were blasted away. Her glow fades away as she then turns towards me, and as she helps me back up, she asks, “My love, are you okay?”

I’m aching everywhere, but I’m not dead, so I nod. I wish Bichak could do the same, but as soon as the four Lords are absorbed, his frontside is planted on the ground. The only other ally conscious isn’t done yet. They force themselves up and try to reconnect the connection of Four and Seven. The latter tries to take advantage of our distracted states, but I block the incoming thrust of their whip when I manifest a shield. It breaks soon after it hits. Whereas the former just swats away Bichak’s attempt. Four with their body whole again explains with laughter, “Do you plan to waste what’s left of you with another meaningless attempt? Have you forgotten I wrote that book? I know how to counter the spell.” A symbol appears on their forehead. It translates to “locked.” It fades away before they continue their explanation with, “I will keep countering your pitiful attempts until you wither away like my siblings. Seven and I will rule the universe alone for countless millennia to come. You’ve lost, mortals.”

“No, we haven’t. Not yet.”

Hands behind their back, Four leans down to me. “Should I assume you think you can stop me? Human, you’ve survived this long because I’ve let you. I could squish you right now if I wanted to. Like so...” Saamuki tries flying away, but Four already has her. Her blue hue fades. She screams with the slow crushing of her bones. The two of us down below try stopping this queasy over-the-top showmanship of power. Kaishi’s arms stretch towards her, and I shove a wall toward their face, but Seven stops us in the middle of our preparations. Seven aims low, causing us to separate and jump about. 

Bichak is trying to force himself up. He gags but swallows it down. Kaishi and I are working up a sweat as we’re hopping about and trying to counter. Each attempt is forced to be canceled with the fear of getting zapped. We’re at a standstill until limping Mikrovos, whose hand on his forehead, came back into the picture.

Four pauses their crushing and greets him, “Welcome back.”

He walked past us. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, standing before Four, he wiped his smeared blood off his face and grabbed hold of the symbol on his forehead. It began to flash, and he began to cry out. Four asks what’s the meaning of this then asks if he hit his head too hard. Mikrovos tells them, “You promised me no one would get hurt. I’m done being your puppet, and I’m especially done watching you hurt my Saamuki!”

Once Mikrovos rips off the symbol, he jumps and impales the Lord in the chest with his horns. The Lord lets go of Saamuki, and he catches the nearly unconscious reptilian. She mutters, “Mikrovos?”

Mikrovos crashes to the ground with Saamuki safely in his arms, but the two aren’t safe for long because Four manifests a new sword and swings it at them. Mikrovos cannot dodge in time, but the blade doesn’t go through the two. They’re not hurt, but Sakhra is. Sakhra’s body is glitching around the sword, which is deeply embedded into his chest. Saamuki, being too tired to speak, can only reach her hand out towards the deleting Sakhra. Sakhra’s body is vanishing pixel by pixel. 

He slides off the weapon, turns around, and walks towards Mikrovos and Saamuki, swaying almost drunkenly. She reaches out to him. He smirks. “I guess you owe me again.” She sniffled then began to weep. He reaches out towards her, and while his body is nearly gone, he manages to wipe away her tears. “I’m proud of the woman you’ve become, my daughter.”

Sakhra is gone. Mikrovos is comforting Saamuki, and I can’t hold in my anger. 

“No more,” I cried out. I grabbed Seven’s whip. It burned just as much as before, but this time I’m able to ignore the pain. I force it out of Seven’s grasp and empower it with my powers. The pain ceases. It’s brighter than before, and I use it against Four. Four’s sword connects with my stolen weapon, but instead of wrapping around it, it shatters it and Four’s forehead. 

The once cocky Lord now feels their forehead in a panic. “Impossible!”

Then, a stream of their essence begins to travel between us towards Bichak and his crystals, but the Lord isn’t going down so quickly. They make a run towards Bichak, but Kaishi is one step ahead. She shoots both knees, one after another. The Lord falls and begins to wilt, unable to heal their wounds. 

Reaching out towards Seven, they plea, “Please, Seven. Help me.”

All of their lips let out a wide toothy grin that stretched uncomfortably, nearly tearing the skin around their lips. Kaishi’s ready to shoot, Mikrovos steps back, and I’m prepared to use Seven’s whip again.

Seven responds with a bow, “As you wish.”

Opening all of their mouths, they begin to suck up the feeble Lord. Four lets out an outcry, and the three of us move, but with the snap of Seven’s fingers, Watchers step between us. They attack, but they’ve merely become obstacles. We breeze through them quickly, but not fast enough because, by the time we get close enough, the Lord’s cannibalism is finished. Four’s teeth encircle the sides of Seven’s head. I can feel the massive boost in strength even though the fused Lord hasn’t done anything but dodge. 

The Lord merely stares at us, but with just that, they push us back. Seven points a single finger up in the air and charges it. Without yet touching us, it blows us back even further. Us out of the way, Seven takes back their chain. 

They point their finger at us. We don’t have anything strong enough to deflect it with. If we dodge it, Seven will just charge it again. We can’t escape. We’re going to die. Realizing this, too, Mikrovos shields Saamuki for what’s to come even though it’s pointless. Kaishi looks at me. “No, this can’t be the end. After everything we can’t die like this. I won’t let anyone else die today!”

I’m brighter than before. I summon both Saamuki’s broken sword and mine. Both hands, which both have orbs of light floating above them, grab the two weapons and collide them together. It takes everything that I have. The fused sword, which has a golden aura spilling out of it, is as big as Mikrovos. It has two fat blades of equal length with the same symbols that were on me prior. The weapon is massive, too heavy in my normal state. Because of my nanites, my arms don’t shred over trying to lift it up. Still, even this is too much for them. I need help. I can’t do this on my own.

All around me are those that have fallen. Each comes one by one. The Director. Skeema. Shiitakee, of course. Khavas. Licata. Sakhra too. Lastly, a group of people who my heart tells me are my crewmates. Maybe I said my plea out loud, or perhaps I’m just easy to read because Kaishi joins in too. She presses her right shoulder against my left and wraps her hands around the handle. They smile at me, but it’s when Kaishi states, “Together,” that we go. 

Seven tries bring us down with their chain. It whips the air before coming right at us. Without words, the two of us slashed right through the chain. Piece by piece, they snapped, scattering everywhere. One weapon down another to go, Seven aims. 

“This is for everyone,” I exclaimed.

“We forgive you,” several voices whispered into my ear.

We jump and Seven blasts. Together we swing, and not only do we cut right through the blast, but we also cut across the Lord’s forehead. 

When the two of us land back down, Kaishi orders Bichak, “Bichak, now!”

The Lord is being sucked into the crystal, but just like with Four, they’re not going down without a fight. They, though swaying, try to wail. Their teeth vibrate, preparing to make a sound, but they are abruptly stopped when a Tauvox elbows them in the stomach then uses the back of his hand to smack Seven’s face. Both fall. Seven is unconscious while Syco is in pain, clutching his soaked chest. It’s covered in his blood.

Sword vanishing into thin air and its light returning to me, I ran to him. “Syco, the nanites. Why aren’t they working?”

Kaishi, placing a hand on my shoulder, has me look up at her. “Before coming, here he had us remove his nanites.”

I’m on the verge of tears when I tell him, “You bastard. Why?”

Syco, with a bloody hand, reaches out towards me but retracts it before touching me. I grab it anyway. “Because I’ve done what I told you I’d do all those years ago when I was behind bars, little human. Besides, I miss Shiitakee, but may I ask you a favor before I go?”

“Of course, Syco.”

“Do you remember that promise I made to you when Commander Saamuki was unconscious after we defeated Commander Cala?” I don’t answer. I let go, and I looked away. I feel around my shirt, and I pull out my dagger. It’s bent the wrong way but still deadly. My tears fall onto the blade. He’s now holding my hand, grunts, and clutches his chest even tighter. “Please, my dear friend.”

I tell him what Apulsion said to me before he died. Syco smiles. 

It was fast. It was quiet. It left me hollow. Kaishi held me, but I didn’t cry. I didn’t know how to feel. 

She helped lead me to where everyone is, and that’s around the leafy giant. Bichak is getting treated by the somber Saamuki. I hand him back his dagger. He looks at me with his reddish eyes and raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. 

Checking the green alien’s pulse, Mikrovos states. “Alive.”

Nobody says anything to this. We’re all still digesting everything that happened.

What looks like an older version of Saamuki appears next to her. Saamuki’s free hand then glows when raised towards this mysterious figure. She looks up at her for a moment. Her mouth opens. Saamuki is about to speak. Hesitating, she looks at us, Mikrovos mostly. When she whispers something to the older of the two while touching her ring, something I didn’t get to hear, the figure smiles and places her hand on Saamuki’s shoulder. Then, she fades away. By the looks of everyone, it’s only the two of us that noticed Saamuki’s sister. 

Watchers are looking all around us inquisitively. There are still a couple hundred or so Watchers left. Upon Bichak healing, Saamuki gets up and looks at each of us. “I have a promise to keep.”

So many gravestones. So many lives have been lost, and yet the war still goes on. There are still Watchers out there, low-ranked species who went past their quadrant limit. The consequence is known to high-ranked species, but not to people like me. To the Lords, we’re animals, but it’s not like those above us are that much better. To the Lords, they’re children. It’s exactly like how Four said. They played all of us. They used all of us. In this universe, there aren’t anymore Lords, but there’s still plenty of problems. At least things have died down. They’re not as bad as the Lords predicted. For once in their lives, people are truly living. They’re genuinely free now, but everything is still shit nonetheless. 

I’m on a cold, inhabitable planet. Sitting on a rock, I look at the resting places of those I know and those that I didn’t get to. Looking up, it seems like the stars are within reach. They’re not so frightening anymore. After all this time, I feel fond of them, but I have yet to call them home. I laugh at that because I still don’t have a homeworld. Whenever I look at her, I’m reminded of what I did. I still feel guilty.

She’s told me multiple times, “There was no other way.” 

I know, and I also know that if I didn’t do it, then they’d live like that for eternity, but while I can try to justify my actions, it still pains me. 

“To be human is to feel pain,” she assured me. 

I’m a partial Lord, essentially a god with what I could do, but the Lords have proven that even a god can’t just wave their hand and make the universe a better place. To be human is to accept our limits. To be me is to accept myself. To live is to accept the things we can’t control. 

Using the compass, the late Shiitakee stole, Kaishi, Mikrovos, and Saamuki appear in the corner of my eye. Upon seeing that I noticed their arrival, Kaishi is smiling as she waves me over, whereas Mikrovos, who has his arms crossed, is smirking at Saamuki as she points at her screen, which depicts the Lord’s crystals. “Although it’s been one hell of a journey, it’s what’s brought me to find my home,” is what I told Mikrovos that night on Earth. 

[spookyceph]

Peace Offering, a Shigadabi Fanfic

The first in a series of Shigadabi fics. Because why not?

WARNINGS for mention of destructive/depressive thoughts, language, and unabashed self-indulgence.

Rating: Teen and Up

Words: 3,378

Also, find it on my Ao3 account @ CarlyChameleon.

For someone who hated to drink, Tomura spent a lot of time sitting at the hideout’s bar. He couldn’t have done it if the place were still in business—some unlucky server would’ve had several drunk assholes to mop up off the floor before the night ended. But with it sealed off from the outside world the atmosphere suited him fine. It was quiet. Clean. Both adjectives that applied to his room upstairs, but locking himself in there too long gave him the urge to start climbing the walls. Even he needed to get out of his own head once in a while, whether that involved speaking with Sensei or just watching Kurogiri dust the glasses.

The open space of the bar never threatened to close in and suffocate him. All the different sizes and shapes of the bottles occupying the shelves, glinting in the low lighting, gave him something to look at while he thought besides a glowing screen or blank ceiling as he laid in bed. Or, like now, he could simply trace the swirling grain of the bar top with one finger and think nothing. Or what passed for nothing in his case—his mind churned and surged as relentlessly as the sea grinding away the edges of the land. He’d only learned how to roll back the tide enough to allow for some sleep or brief breaks that kept him from throwing himself off the roof and quieting his brain for good.

The Internet had fished up terms like rumination and obsessive compulsive and thought loops when he’d done a search once. Psychobabble for being his own worst enemy, in other words. Tracing patterns in fabric or wood or pictures or whatever did help sometimes like a few of the articles had suggested, though. Listing colors or items in his surroundings too when he became overwhelmed and started to flounder. (Breathing exercises, however, could fuck right off—all those did was cause him to hyperventilate as he counted each inhale and exhale faster and faster.) The tricks allowed him to hit reset and go back to a previous save point, in a way. The level didn’t get any easier when he returned to it, but the momentary respite allowed him to regroup and adjust his tactics.

He’d been doing an awful fucking lot of both ever since Giran’s first two finds had moved in. Tomura’s nail scraped against polished wood, digging in while his mind replayed the conversation with Kurogiri the evening before, clear as a cutscene.

We cannot further our ends without skilled support, Shigaraki Tomura.

I know, damn it. He couldn’t have even said what his party was fighting on-screen. He’d just kept selecting Attack each round. That doesn’t mean we have to take in every stray Giran drags in from the gutter.

True…yet please recall why we hired the man in the first place: to scout for promising candidates. He wouldn’t present us with anyone he considered beneath our notice. Each point had been spoken with the polite but unwavering logic that had won him the job as Tomura’s handler to begin with. Drifting over to the computer desk, Kurogiri had warped two manila folders onto it. At least skim their profiles before declaring your ultimate decision.

So, Tomura had. And he’d seen beyond a doubt that the fucking walking Rorschach test had been right, as usual. The description of the brat’s quirk had been particularly surprising. Tomura’s mind had roiled with all the possible uses for her. The smartass’s, on the other hand, didn’t boast as much versatility, but it did promise the kind of ranged and wide-area attacks needed to control a battle.

Giran had brought him an illusionist assassin and a black mage. With them, he’d have a better chance at clearing higher level quests. He hated the facts, but that didn’t change them, as he’d been taught in no uncertain terms during the little excursion to UA’s training facility.

Thus, Toga Himiko and Dabi, whoever he really was, had been granted permission to move what worldly goods they possessed into rooms of their choosing upstairs. Tomura hadn’t bothered to learn which. He figured he’d reduce the chances of murdering them in their sleep if he didn’t know.

His hand left the bar and relocated to his throat. The fingers didn’t scratch, but they flexed in the familiar pattern. Letting those two move in might have been a mistake—yet another in a growing string of them. He shouldn’t have given in to Kurogiri so easily because of rattled confidence. He should have insisted all recruits stay somewhere else until they proved their worth and loyalty. To hell with Giran’s professional instincts. What if they were spies for some hero agency? The Toga brat especially, with a quirk like hers. Barring that, they still hadn’t made it past basic introductions without trying to kill each other. How could they be expected to follow orders or not botch a mission because of their own petty goals? And anyway, both of them were just fucking weird.

A sound barged into Tomura’s thoughts from the outer world. Only the small, metallic click of a door handle turning, but it made his head snap in the direction of the hallway. Kurogiri never used the door. He didn’t need to.

Sure enough, there slouched a tall, ragged figure. The zombie. The one name wonder. Dabi.

The skin of Tomura’s throat stung as his nails finally found purchase. Of course the last person on Earth he wanted to see would show up at that very moment. Of course. Because the universe fucking hated him and the feeling was very much mutual.

For a minute, Dabi just filled up the space in the doorway, watching and being watched. When Tomura didn’t move to attack, he finally stepped into the room. His ugly boots clomped on the floorboards as he approached. Still wary, still keeping an eye on where Tomura’s hands rested, he paused at the far corner of the bar. Kurogiri must have had a chat with both newcomers, oh yes. Now they had to be aware of just how close they’d come to never annoying the shit out of anyone ever again.

“So.” Dabi nodded toward the shelves. “We gotta pay for booze or is it included in our membership?”

Even while asking a simple question he couldn’t sound anything less than full of contempt. Putting on an air of boredom despite the knot of tension between his shoulder blades, Tomura shrugged. “Knock yourself out. None of this shit comes out of my pocket.”

No further invitation was required. Dabi strode behind the bar and started examining labels, back turned. Tomura’s fingers twitched. Patchwork asshole. Like he’d fall for a trap that obvious.

Dabi settled on a dark blue bottle with a foreign label. Turning around, he grabbed a glass from beneath the bar, twisted the cap open, and poured without restraint. Fumes wafted over, crinkling Tomura’s nose. Great. Wonder-fucking-ful. The reek of alcohol made his stomach tie itself in knots just as much as it had after his first and final hangover.

He’d thought that drinking the toxic shit might help shut his brain up. And, after choking down an acidic gulp—he’d chosen something a deep gold because he’d just liked the color—it had, sort of. His thoughts had softened, stretching out and slowing with a new elasticity. So, even though his chest and nostrils had still been full of napalm he’d knocked back another swallow. The volume of his mental chatter had faded with the third. By the fifth it became benign background noise. The alcohol’s chemical burn had faded away on the seventh. Memories slid into blank blackness sometime after the tenth.

Kurogiri must have warped him to bed that night because when Tomura woke, sweaty, shaking, sicker than a lab rat, the man already had a bucket at the ready. He spoke not a word while letting Tomura puke his guts up. Or when he brought miso broth, umeboshi, and tea after the dry heaves stopped. He didn’t have to. Tomura hadn’t drunk a drop since.

“You look like you swallowed a bug.”

Tomura’s gaze leapt up from the bar to find Dabi staring at him over the rim of the now empty glass. A little riff of unease jangled his nerves. He’d never seen eyes such a deep blue. They caught and glinted in the low lighting the same way the selected bottle did. The patches of ruined skin sagging beneath just made them more striking.

“Must be the company.” His tongue moved too sluggishly to be sharp, turning the comeback into little more than a mumble. Another jolt of realization lanced through Tomura: Father wasn’t shielding his own face. There wouldn’t be much to see with his hair hanging in a messy curtain…but he still had to repress the urge to fidget on the stool and shift away.

Dabi smirked. Tomura couldn’t tear his stare away from how the smooth skin of his upper cheeks and the trauma-purple scar tissue of his jaw pulled in opposite directions against the surgical staples—the fuckmothering staples—binding them at the seams. The smirk only grew under the attention.

“Yeah, about that…” Dabi reached into his raggedy jacket and Tomura tensed. Then mentally cursed when not a weapon but a small jar was produced. Dark glass, unlabeled, it looked utterly boring in the other man’s palm (also stapled, also intensely weird) as he offered it across the bar. “For you.”

“What…what’s in it?”

“A gesture of goodwill.”

The scarred corner of Tomura’s upper lip peeled back just enough to show a glimmer of teeth. “You couldn’t have given me one in the first place by introducing yourself properly?”

Those disquieting eyes almost glowed. “Sure. But then I wouldn’t have seen who you are. People always show their real selves when they’re pissed.”

A fine tremor infected Tomura’s hands. One swift, short lunge. That’s all it would take to disintegrate Frankendick’s face for good. There would be no Kurogiri to play referee either… “So, what? That was just part of some elaborate test? You going to amaze me with an in-depth character analysis now?”

“Nope. I’m not feeling that generous.”

Right. That did it for his quota of fucks to give for the day. If he stuck around for another thirty seconds there really would be a murder in progress. Tomura turned away from the bar with a scoff.

“Hurts, huh? The stuff around your eyes.”

He froze with one foot on the floor, one still hooked on the bottom of the stool.

“Itches like a sonuvabitch too when it’s humid probably,” Dabi continued, sensing the hook had set. “What’s in the jar helps with that kind of thing.”

“Nothing helps.” The words hissed out of Tomura like a jet of steam.

“This will. I make it. Look how good it works on me.”

For the next solid minute, Tomura could do nothing except grapple with the question of how this staple-faced fucker could even be for real.

Dabi, for his part, let his smirk soften into something that almost resembled an actual smile. Unscrewing the jar’s lid, he set it down on the bar and dipped two fingers into the contents. When he reached forward, Tomura’s hand shot up and captured him around the wrist. Only his index finger didn’t touch, pointed at the ceiling and ready to clamp down in an instant.

On the verge of being reduced to bloody slush staining the floor, Dabi just cocked his head. “Jumpy, are we?”

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” It came out entirely too high and strained to spare Tomura’s dignity.

“I told you. Showing goodwill.” A pause. “Are you touch averse?”

“Am I what?”

“You know. Like, being touched gets you nervous or grosses you out. That sort of thing.”

“The fuck would I know? It’s not like I ever let anyone try!”

Okay. That hadn’t come out quite as intended. Tomura dug his fingers into Dabi’s wrist, deep enough to leave marks even through the sleeve of a jacket, daring the bastard to laugh or make a crude quip. Instead, said bastard quit smiling. His strange, stained-glass eyes only observed, absorbing details while giving none away. Contrary to the lack of mockery, hot blood rushed straight up Tomura’s neck and flooded his face.

All he had to do was flex one finger and Dabi would be dead. Every scenario that played out in inside his mind showed him having the clear advantage at such a close range. So why, why, why had the pulse in his chest and temples kicked into hyper mode?

“Think of this another way,” Dabi said, as if reading his thoughts and causing another spike in blood pressure. “As a show of trust.”

“T-trust?” The word tripped up Tomura’s tongue like it came from an alien language. “We tried to kill each other yesterday.”

The response was a shrug. “That’s yesterday. Like I said, you showed me what I wanted to know. Now I’m returning the favor. That’s why you were so pissed, wasn’t it? When I didn’t make an introduction? You wanted to see if you could trust me. Well, here I am, close enough for you to use your quirk on without much chance to dodge. Still not gonna tell you my name, though.”

All valid points. And having Dabi at his mercy did make for a strong show of dominance. It still didn’t explain why Tomura was the one on the edge of his seat. He eyed the pale goop coating Dabi’s fingers. Sensei had educated him on a wide variety of poisons used for killing or incapacitating victims, but he held few suspicions from that angle. Another crackpot personality test sounded more plausible. For cowardice? To see if he’d flinch if confronted? The only thing Tomura knew for sure was that he couldn’t back down without proving both. He could do nothing except follow the limited dialog and action choices to see what ending he got.

Gathering his will, he eased his fingers from Dabi’s wrist. “Fine. I accept.” A little forethought went a long way; the words came across as gracious rather than sullen.

Dabi continued to study him for a few more heartbeats. When he caught no hint of a trick he reached out and closed the gap.

The warmth came as a shock. It radiated off his fingers just before they made contact with Tomura’s cheek. Against skin they bordered on searing. Despite the extensive training in muscle control and pain tolerance Sensei had drilled into him, a twitch from his jaw betrayed him.

Raising his eyebrows a fraction, Dabi pulled away a few centimeters. “All right?”

Mismatched ass rag. He’d probably raised his body temperature with his fire quirk to provoke a reaction. Rather than Decay his hand and snap it off at the wrist, Tomura said through a snarl, “I’m fine.”

Dabi’s hooded stare declared his doubts on that, but he reached out again. Tomura didn’t falter a second time. The ointment, whatever it was made of, glided onto his cracked skin hot, clingy, and stinging. The fingertips applying it, though, did so with gentle strokes. After a minute or so the sting fizzled into tingling and the heat turned tolerable. It seeped into Tomura’s skull, his jaw and neck. The pinched muscles of his face slowly relaxed. Not so terrible after all. Weird to the nth degree, and he had no clue what he’d do if Kurogiri warped in on them, but not awful. Maybe he’d order Dabi to do this again in the near future. See how much the fucker smirked when his plan worked too well.

Fingers sliding into his hair scattered all petty plans of revenge. Tomura jumped and jerked his head away, blinking, startled.

Dabi’s skin pulled at the seams slightly from a small smile. “Your hair’s covering the other side of your face.”

“Oh.” The only way he could have sounded stupider was if he’d fried his brain like the UA kid with the electricity quirk. A possibility, given how his cheeks and neck were burning up. How the hell had he wound up on the defensive—again? This was why he liked games: whenever a dialog option or approval interaction went wrong he could backtrack and do it over until he got the desired result.

He should kill Dabi where he stood. Eliminate such a major factor of uncertainty. The League needed members to grow, yes, but it also needed stability. Kurogiri would come to see that eventually. Even if he didn’t there wasn’t shit he could do about it in the end. Tomura’s fingers curled on his thighs, ready to leap up and grab any bit of exposed flesh.

A gentle, stitched up hand beat him to it. Dabi brushed aside Tomura’s hair, tucking it back behind his ear. The tickle of the messy strands and strokes from warm fingertips sent fireworks sizzling and popping along the bundles of nerves in his neck and shoulders. Instead of going in for an easy kill his fingers dug into his legs. He barely managed to swallow what would definitely have been a humiliating noise in his surprise. He didn’t even want to consider what his expression had betrayed in that instant.

Was this why people hugged and held hands and all that? Because contact gave them a high? Somehow, Tomura doubted it. Novelty and his inexperience were probably heightening the sensations. Every touch he could remember had been a threat, either given or received. This would turn out no different. He raised his eyes from the bar, intent on finding some shred of evidence to support the suspicion.

Instead, he caught Dabi watching him. Not focused on rubbing the salve in. Not gauging reactions. Just…staring straight at him, irises as bright as the hearts of candleflames. Brain upended, Tomura shrunk in on himself a bit. Seriously, what the blazing fuck did this guy want? Why not spit it out already? The game didn’t have a point without a clear objective.

Tiny sparks spat across the network of nerves in Tomura’s scalp as fingers slipped into his hair again, combing through it. The sharp, involuntary breath he sucked in had nothing to do with the few strands that got caught and pulled by staples. Dabi took his hand away only to let it settle against the curve of Tomura’s cheek. The mildly calloused pad of his thumb caressed soothing heat into the peeling skin.

“There. Better?” His voice was almost as soft as his touch.

Against his will, Tomura realized it was. Not just his face either. For several glorious seconds, his thoughts stayed silent, at rest. There was nothing but warmth and blue eyes and strange feelings he had no names for.

Then the last possibility he would have considered for the whole bizarre encounter breached the calm surface of his mind, churning it back into chaos.

The stool tipped precariously under Tomura as he lurched back from Dabi’s reach. He latched onto the bar’s edge in the nick of time, keeping a finger on each hand away purely by the grace of reflex.

“You really are jumpy. Like a damn stray cat.”

If looks could Decay, he would have given Kurogiri something to sigh about in the form of sixty-eight kilograms’ worth of dust sprayed all over the immaculate shelves and cabinets.

Willfully oblivious, Dabi pushed the little jar across the bar top. “Here. Keep it. Should last awhile.” The smirk returned to his mismatched face as if it had never left. “Don’t expect me to share my chapstick, though. You’re on your own with that one, creep.”

Nothing but a strangled sound of outrage managed to escape Tomura’s constricted throat while the unbelievable bastard grabbed his chosen bottle and sauntered away. He considered flinging the empty glass after him. Using his quirk to bring the entire building crashing down on everyone inside. Crawling into the nearest hole and never coming out too. By the time Dabi was halfway across the room, Tomura had made his decision.

Slowly, his hand went to the jar. One finger touched the lid.

Dabi stopped in front of the door.

A second finger touched the dark glass.

The handle turned.

Three points of contact now.

Faint light spilled in from the hallway.

Tomura’s thumb wrapped around the jar in fourth place.

The door swung shut behind Dabi just as Shigaraki Tomura made his gesture of goodwill disappear, not in his grip but into his pocket.

[fuwafuwamedb]

.Hack//Gilfection (.Hack AU) (Gilgamesh, Enkidu, Gudako)

The music was the first thing to load.

He could see the area around him, the artificial buildings lacking a certain level of elegance that a lot of his games held. Whoever had designed this game hadn’t been doing quite the level of quality of a lot of his consoles, but then again…

Enkidu was right. The server’s fast for the number of people here.

No clipping. No running through people. The sensors he had been able to press to his wrists really were making him feel like he was doing more than simply holding his controller and wearing headgear.

His armor clanked as he walked. The feeling of weight was running through him, fascinating him further.

He slammed his fist against the wall of one of the buildings, wincing when a pain went to his arm.

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

Gilgamesh glanced over, snorting at the rather cliché look his friend had.

“Did you mod one of their characters? I don’t believe that hair style and color was in the tutorial.”

“Shhhh,” Enkidu pressed a hand to their shoulder, pulling them away from the throngs of people. “You really want to get me in trouble? Anyway, the devs love me. I’m one of the knights in this place. I maintain peace and order.”

“Peace and order?”

Gilgamesh laughed harder, throwing his head back.

Good gods, the being was talking like they were some sweet citizen and not a menace to society who’d let their dogs shit earlier on one of the cop cars downtown.

“Alright, alright,” Enkidu waved a hand. “My fellow knight was supposed to be coming, but I guess it’ll just be us right now. I think you’ll want to level up before we meet with others anyway. You’ve always been someone to enjoy being a higher level than those around in ever other subject and game.”

“We’re gonna grind first?”

“Yeah,” Enkidu held out his hand. “Let me see your hand, Gil. I’ll give you a weapon for now.”

[Gilgamesh obtained Enki]

“Enki?”

“Aren’t I clever?” The being smiled, earning an eye roll. “We’ll have to work on getting you a full armor suit later. Look at this belly,” they jabbed his stomach, earning a growl.

“Enkidu! I’m needed at work tomorrow. Let’s not take too long.”

“Alright. Fine. Did you read your manual today at work?”

“Of course.”

“Then add me to your party.”

Gilgamesh stared at the being.

He’d read through the manual. The manual had talked about how to add the sensors to his neck and wrists. They had discussed how long would be a good length of time for playing the game and what methods of care were needed for those who played longer.

So long as people maintained their health, they would not be in any danger.

He exercised routinely for four hours a day. He didn’t have a thing to worry about.

However…

“How do I add you?”

Enkidu glanced back, no doubt trying to pull a fourth wall kind of glance before they shook their head. “Give me your hand again.”

Gilgamesh held up his hand, finding the being leaning in and kissing it.

“ENKID-“

[You now have Enkidu’s member address!]

“…You’re a seductive asshole, you know that?” Gilgamesh laughed awkwardly, opening up his member screen and inviting the asshole to his team.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s why we meet for booze normally instead of doing fun things like this.”

They moved to the platform, watching the chaos gate spin invitingly. Enkidu made them stop long enough to look through their potions and equipment. Gilgamesh busied himself with looking at others as they opened their menus and scrolled through area codes.

“Alright. Ready?”

Gilgamesh glanced to his friend before nodding.

They teleported easily enough.

The grassy plains around them swayed in the breeze. The stone structures scattered here and there over the landscape seemed a little too fake. Much like the city they’d been in, quality had been sacrificed a bit for better loading.

“Notice that?” Enkidu asked when he mentioned it. “They did it on purpose and for the reason you guessed. There’s supposed to be patches later, but they haven’t done anything yet. There’s a few areas that I like that are far better graphically.”

The being paused as a monster came roaming by.

“Let’s move!”

His blades were cumbersome. Gilgamesh cursed as he felt one of his sensors fall off.

“Hold on,” he told the other after killing the monster.

Enkidu fell over, laughing away as Gilgamesh pulled his headgear up and fixed the sensor back on.

“Gil! Use tape!”

“Tape.” Gilgamesh looked in his desk, pulling out some electrical tape and fixing the damn things on for the time being.

“You good?” Enkidu was leaning over his character, grinning.

“Fine.”

“Get a pair of wristbands and a scarf later. They help too. I do that so I don’t have to waste tape… it’s good tape, right?”

“I’m all set.”

Enkidu nodded. “This won’t be that big of an area. I mean, it’s level one.”

They moved to the dungeon building, Enkidu smiling a little until they saw something move.

A girl was floating by, moving almost too fast to get a good look at. The red hair fell in waves behind her, the colors looking off, but-

Gilgamesh froze as something flew after her. The great demonic monster roaring loudly.

“…Enkidu,” Gilgamesh leaned closer to the being as the two vanished. “…You said this was level one?”

“I’m level 99 and I have never seen that shit.”

They didn’t sound pleased by that fact for some reason.

“Treasure chest and we’re out.” Enkidu shook his head. “It must have just been a server bug. Maybe something didn’t get patched and an update messed up a new monster.”

Yeah…

He was sure that was the case.

They moved.

Three sets of enemies. New boots and gloves. Gilgamesh found himself laughing as he and Enkidu bounced from one room to the next.

He could see the appeal.

“Well?” Enkidu sat on a boobytrapped treasure chest, grinning.

“Once a week.”

“Nah, I’ll get you to play every day,” Enkidu promised. “We’re gonna be shut in nerds when I’m done with you.”

Unlikely. Gilgamesh still laughed though.

“Don’t believe me?”

“Try.”

They paused in the depth of the dungeon, opening the beast’s treasure chest. As they did, the statue floating behind the chest fell, the room growing silent around them.

“Alright.” Enkidu beamed. “Let’s go-“

The world around them morphed. Their bodies teleported.

“Uhhh-“

“Gil, get behind me.” Enkidu frowned, looking around carefully at the scene. As he moved, he could sense someone close, someone who made him turn.

“Take this.”

The red head from before was there. Her golden eyes were looking straight into his.

“Take this.”

“Is it equipment-“

“GIL!”

Enkidu was further from him now. When the other had moved, he didn’t know, but they were further-

[******* added to inventory]

Gilgamesh turned, noting the red head looking behind him now.

“A great force… the power it holds can bring forth salvation… or destruction… at the whim of the user…”

What-

“It’s coming.”

The red head was floating upwards, her eyes closing as something formed behind her. The strange figure behind her wrapped their arms around her, vanishing a moment before the beast was back. The demonic figure slammed into the earth, shaking the ground beneath his feet.

“GIL! STAY DOWN!”

He didn’t have a choice. He stared up at the face of the thing, watching it loom overhead.

Enkidu was storming forward, slamming their chains and weapons into the beast.

[MISS]

[MISS]

[MISS]

[MISS]

[MISS]

[MISS]

[MISS]

[MISS]

“WHAT?” Enkidu stared at the thing, pausing as his character was raised. The demon raised a hand, aiming it towards-

“ENKIDU!”

“Run… Gil…”

The character model exploded before his eyes, leaving his heart racing and his eyes wide. Gilgamesh roared, staring at the beast aiming their hand at him.

He could feel himself being raised up, the beast preparing to do the same when-

Something slammed between them. Something like an great wave of blossoms. The game system went black.

The menu screen returned, leaving Gilgamesh groaning.

He shoved his helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

“DAMN!”

He picked up the phone nearby, waiting and cursing more when Enkidu didn’t answer.

Busted ass game.

Tomorrow he’d tell Enkidu that they should play something else.

The monsters and leveling had been cool, but the last monster had been a damn cheat.

What kind of stupid game developer decided to make a monster that damn busted and set it loose in a newbie area anyway? Seemed like a stupid way to destroy your growing community.

[kitten-keith]

Bad Blood (Pt1?)

Bask in my SUPER ORIGINAL TITLE RIGHT?

Whatever. Wrote this on Halloween while in the tub immediately after seeing this post on Instagram by @genelpan (I’d share the link  to Instagram as it isn’t on tumblr at alllll but my computer is acting all kinds of stupid atm and I’m pretty sure Gen’s on private now anyway)

Point is, I saw vampires and couldn’t be stopped.

Klance. Vampires. Implied lime-y things but not much.

---

They meet by accident, caught in each other’s sights, recognition in each other’s scents.

Lance smiles, and neither of them know if it’s a challenge or sincere given the look in his eyes, but Keith is gone.

It’s a summit meeting, a new ruler is to be chosen and all the higher ups have been called to witness the ascension of their superior.

Keith knows his sire, Lotor, will most likely be chosen. He’s done much to protect their kind from prying eyes of inquisitive but destructive humans. He renounced his claim years ago, an attempt at penance for the monstrous reign of his father, but Keith knows that doesn’t matter in the long run.

His actions speak for him, not his lineage.

On the other hand, there is a woman, Allura.

She has just as much claim to the position as her family held dominion prior to Lotor’s coming to power, but she’s been gone from court so long (doing lord knows what) that it would be absolutely ludicrous for her to take over.

Perhaps if she’d had more time, she could be a valid contender. She seemed to have a level head on her shoulders, she seemed strong enough.

But once again, what counted were her actions, and she had nothing to show.

He glanced across the court floor to where his sire sat, almost nestled in by the rest of his chosen kin. He smiled and kept his voice small but Keith could still feel his worry.

Lotor would ascend or there would be blood.

Whether he liked it or not.

Keith himself would drink his fill of the blood on tap and await the inevitable.

And that was when he saw him. Dark hair on sun browned skin. A day walker, surely.

Keith had never seen one besides Lotor. The rest of them had enchanted items worn when the need to wander in the day was necessary. Keith had a blade in his back pocket for the occasion but he was fine traveling by night.

Still, it was intriguing to see a man who looked so human standing here in this room full of high level vampires.

The day walker turned at Keith’s attention and there was a long moment of pause. A moment where Keith could take in his full countenance and try to remind himself to breathe.

A moment for a small but clear smile to spread on lightly blood stained lips and Keith can’t help it.

With the blood in his system what little remained in his own veins started to thrum.

He’s stunning.

And it’s been some time since Keith has wanted so badly for anything.

The day walker raises his brow, a request for an invitation and Keith can feel the faint rush to his cheeks before quickly turning away.

Because who is he? Some prepubescent child? Blushing at a suitors attention?

Keith was two hundred years old, he was better than that.

“Well aren’t you something…” says the day walker, now close enough to whisper into Keith’s ear.

Keith grits his teeth. He’d been aware of the other’s movements but had tried to ignore it with everything in his being, wanted to pretend he wasn’t keyed up for any and all interactions with the man.

That said, couldn’t he have said something else? Anything else?

“The names Lance.”

Better. Not great. But better.

Lance.

Lance….

It… suited him.

Keith keeps his face pointed away, toward the old archivist who’s been holding the required ceremonies far toward the front of the grand hall to the disinterest of all those attending.

Still, he peers at Lance from the corner of his eyes, “...Keith.”

“Huh. That’s unfortunate.”

Keith blinks.

Twice.

That was an insult wasn’t it?

“Excuse me?” He turns and faces Lance directly, mentally preparing for a fight whether the man was lovely or not.

Lance laughs then though, completely disarming him.

“That's it. Wanted you to look at me.” He reaches forward and casually holds Keith’s chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“Your eyes are beautiful… needed to get a look at them myself.”

Keith should pull his face away.

Keith should dismiss this wayward child.

Because now that they’re touching, Keith can tell, Lance is a fledgling at best. How he’s even here is anyone’s guess. Someone high on the food chain must have sired him to bring him along.

Keith can’t be interested in a fledgling, they’re messy and stupid and always getting into trouble.

But he can’t pull away.

Doesn’t want to.

“Your eyes are probably your most redeeming feature though, what with that hair and your name? Yeesh.”

Keith grits his teeth.

Okay, he can pull away now. And he does so quickly, a growl in his throat as he steps back and away.

“And what’s wrong with my hair?”

Lance’s smile is constant.

“I mean I survived the 80s too, but the hair didn’t need to Mr. Mullet.”

Keith cannot believe what he’s hearing.

Then Lance leans in again, “but at least it would give me something to grab on to. Would probably look much nicer tugged between my fingers, don’t you think?”

The image plays in his head, far too detailed and scintillating for his own imagination.

Keith’s legs wrapped around his waist, Lance’s fangs in his neck, an intimacy Keith has shared with no one to this point, long brown fingers digging into the hair at the base of his scalp and yanking—

Lance’s eyes gleam.

Keith already hates him.

Hates him.

Grabs him by the collar and he hates him. Tugs him away from the grand hall even though he knows the time is coming, but he hates him and he has to.

He has to put this fledgling in his place.

Has to make him squirm and beg his superior for repentance.

Beg him.

They end up in a storage room when the announcement is made.

They miss it.

They miss it somewhere between the grind of their hips and Lance’s hand slipping past the zipper of Keith’s dark leather pants.

Keith can’t believe it. Can’t believe he let himself get swept away like this for— for—

“Oh come on, we knew who was going to ascend anyway.” Lance offers, fixing his coat.

Keith rubs at his neck where he almost, but absolutely DID NOT, allow Lance to bite harder than a light pink mark, “while true, I should have been out there! He’s my sire and will need the support—“

“He? You mean Loturd?”

Keith feels his blood start to burn for a new reason now.

“What did you just call him?”

Lance rolls his eyes, “oh man, hold on, you really thought Lotor was going to be new lord of vampires?”

Keith has his hand on the doorknob but is quickly weighing the pros and cons of killing the man he just made out with first.

“Come on, Lotor, little lord death, child of the tyrant??”

Keith is seeing red.

“Dude, didn’t he have a bunch of halflings on tap like ninety years ago?”

Oh this again, Keith throws his hands down to educate this little fledgling brat, “six hundred and ninety, and that was to handle a pureblood revolt with the least casualties, if you knew anything about our people—“

“Oh I know plenty, and I know my sire, the true princess, is more than due her crown!” Lance runs his hands through his hair, looking put out, “man, and here I thought you were actually kind of hot.”

Keith is furious.

Livid.

His eyes are violet to denote the magic he acquired when he became a vampire, and everything in him is screaming to burn this infant to ashes.

But also, with those last words in the air and the memory of their actions so recently in mind and hell, even on his body, Keith decides psychological warfare will suffice.

He reaches forward, lightly clawed hand tapping quickly along Lance’s chest as he pushes him harshly against the vacant wall Lance has just had him lifted against.

He presses his body in close, sliding up Lance’s front with his eyes half lidded and his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Oh please, Lance…”

The fledgling’s breath catches. His hand hovered over Keith’s hip, unsure how to handle the mood change, of course.

But Keith doesn’t care.

“You and I both know how hot I can be.” Keith smiles, knowing for damn sure that Lance is torn between terrified and turned on, and that’s exactly where he wants him.

Keith drags his claws down Lance’s front as he pulls away, just a touch of fire there to burn through his clothes if Lance isn’t fast enough to stop it.

Keith leaves before he can figure it out.

Lotor is the new lord of the vampires, much to his frustration, but his followers are rejoicing and Keith decides to follow suit. He’s not too big on parties, but for this he’ll try.

It also helps that he can’t stifle his giggle when one of his chosen kin starts talking about the half naked fledgling in the storage room trying to put out a fire.

[neverwatchedonepiece]

558-560: "The Noah Closing in! The Fish-Man Island Facing Destruction!", "Hurry up, Luffy! Shirahoshi's Life in Jeopardy!" and "The Fierce Fight Begins! Luffy vs. Hordy!"

This is like watching Hitler stab Elliot Roger. Can you even cheer for this?

I can’t because let’s just say I’m not the biggest fan of either of them. The most I could muster was a grim nod. “Yes, that’s brilliant. Now the other one needs to go.”

Luffy should step up in the next couple of episodes, so I’m looking forward to watching Hordy Jones chow down on a generous slice of Karma pie. It’ll be old and moldy too because Hordy’s comeuppance is long overdue.

I get the feeling that the (literally) biggest problem facing the Strawhats right now, though, is neither Decken nor Hordy. It’s Noah: the massive ship that is currently floating just above Fishman Island.

How big is this ship?

I’ll let Franky sum it up.

Noah: The Ship of Promise

The shots of Noah drifting straight for Fishman Island were weirdly beautiful. I mean, I know this thing was close to killing an entire nation full of people plus the Strawhats, but the art was so good. Dat perspective. Dat chiaroscuro. Dat cool shot of the surface tension stretching the bubble. The seaweed strung chains alone were so huge they demolished buildings and minor geological features with ease. Toei did a good job escalating the sense of threat here.

Another interesting thing is that, for the first time, Neptune has really freaked out with fear. But not for himself. It’s for Noah. Apparently, the ship has a nickname: the ship of promise. Neptune was worried because that ship was Not To Be Used before the appointed time. He even freaked out about the possibility of it being damaged.

Hmmm... Intriguing. I guess this means Noah is culturally significant to Fishman Island (or at least to the Royal Family/Neptune who is the only one who clearly understands its significance, as the princes called it “a relic from the past”). What did he mean by “the appointed time?” Why was it built in the first place? Starting to think it’s not an ancient weapon. Maybe it was built to transport Fishmen to a better place? It has loads of windows. I guess I’ll find out soon. :)

But first, there is a villain to be dealt with!

Long-Distance Roasting

Luffy scrapping with Hordy in 558 was glorious. I’m enjoying watching the new tricks he’s learned over his two year stint with Rayleigh. I love how surprised Luffy was that Hordy staggered upright after being punched through a wall.

He used hardening haki to obliterate iron shields, landed a blistering hardened kick and smacked Hordy with a hardened fist. Faced with an opponent who was levels above him, Hordy panicked and fired off water arrows indiscriminately. Luffy’s observation haki pretty much ruined that half-baked plan. It was hilarious watching Hordy get his ass handed to him. It must have really ground Hordy’s gears hearing the islanders praising the strength of the world-renowned Strawhat pirate captain.

Unfortunately, Luffy couldn’t finish the job because it was about that time the Noah Eclipse moved across the island. At that point, even the Strawhats were thinking, “Shiiiiiiiiit.....”

One of the smaller shadows belonged to the Sea Bonze dude that worked for Decken. It grew rapidly as he plummeted to earth. When he shook himself off, he looked up and freaked out because the ship was sailing without him.

“Stop the ship!” he yelled. “I slipped and fell off. I don’t wanna die!”

You know, I thought for one moment that Decken’s one saving grace was that he at least cared about his crew.

Turns out he doesn’t even have that. He said straight up to his Sea Bonze buddy: “Yeah, I’m gonna need you to become a sacrifice along with the rest of Fishman Island.” What a guy.

I mean, you’ve got to be a proper piece of crap when Hordy Jones, of all people, is pissed off with the psychotic shit you keep pulling.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

But Decken’s deeply creepy breakdown spurred one of my favourite moments of the arc. 

When Decken made his appearance, he, of course, took the opportunity to harass Shirahoshi one last time. “SHIRAHOSHI, NO ONE CAN LOVE YOU LIKE ME! SO DROP DEAD ALONG WITH THE REST OF FISHMAN ISLAND.”

Logic? Nah. It’s in very short supply with this guy. Must have departed long ago with the last crumb of sanity.

When it became obvious that Decken was about to involve the entire island in his mad quest to “prove his love”, Shirahoshi did something very brave. Decken had thrown Noah towards his marked target, just like all the knives and axes before. Knowing this, Shirahoshi he put her life on the line and swam right up to the ship, stopping it from crashing into the island where she stood.

“If I am the only one who you want to kill, please do not harm the other people of Ryugu Kingdom.”

She was willing to endanger herself in order to protect her people. Shirahoshi is most definitely no coward. In fact, she’s as brave as Otohime, who threw herself in front of a bullet to stop a revenge killing.

Despite Decken upping the creep factor, “How beautiful you are, even your mind! You’re taking the matter into your own hands to save the country, aren’t you? You’re definitely eligible to become Vander Decken IX’s wife after all. You’d better die while you’re still beautiful and live in my heart forever.”

I have no words. Unfortunately, I know this is not unrealistic.

Decken hurled a dagger at Shirahoshi. But despite being injured, she still swam off and lured Decken - and most importantly, Noah - away from the island. She swam all the way to the open sea.

As far as I’m concerned, Shirahoshi deserves major props for quick thinking and saving everyone from being, as Robin said, smashed all at once. (lol)

Hordy Has a Little Moment

While this was going down, Hordy hauled himself upright and stood there like a lost lemon, grinding his teeth and raging at Decken’s “betrayal.” Hordy, the guy has several screws loose. If he is distracted by Shirahoshi in any way, he will drop whatever dumb scheme he’s involved in to pursue his main interest.

He watched Luffy be lauched after Noah by Sanji (that was cool, by the way. Sanji was about to join him, but Luffy pulled him back and said he had to take care of the plaza. Instead of insisting on running after the mermaid princess, Sanji agreed. Obviously the order from his captain, who he also respects as a friend, takes precedence. That’s much better, Sanji! :D) 

Only then did his rage move him to action. He decided to hijack Decken’s plan. He leapt onto the hanging chains, even shooting at the islanders (who tried to slow Noah’s progress because they were so worried for Shirahoshi). I kept thinking, Luffy, now is the time to knock that dumbass off the chain.

But he didn’t. Shirahoshi broke through the bubble and Luffy emerged into open water. He had to use the Bubbly Coral Jimbei handed him. But he couldn’t use the full stretch and strength of his power confined in the small bubble.

Then Hordy swam up behind him and had a little moment when the tables turned. “How inconvenient it must be to be a human!” he gloated, using all his old favourite slurs. “You act so tough on the ground but you couldn’t even win a fight with a Fishman child in the sea!”

Of course, he forgot Zoro beat him in the water before he snacked on a fistful of Roids, but such thoughts are inconvenient. Luffy couldn’t replicate the feat because, as a DF user, he was at a major disadvantage and was forced to fight in the bubble. Hordy was straight up too fast and the water arrows pierced the bubble.

If it wasn’t for Fukaboshi, Luffy would have been screwed. I actually cheered when he showed up. xD It was also nice when Luffy asked how he was. “Thanks for rescuing me. You got hurt earlier. You okay?” (and it was funny when Fukaboshi told him off for being impressed at how Hordy was “almost like Zoro in the water”.) At least they have come to an understanding now. Fukaboshi apologised for suspecting the Strawhats, and Luffy, in his usual way, said, “Don’t mention it.”

They didn’t have time for a drawn out apology-fest, anyway, because Luffy had a plan and he was in a hurry.

Bye, Bye, Decken?

Now, I’m not sure if Ryuboshi and Mamboshi (is that how you spell his name?) gave Shirahoshi the best advice. She was swimming out into open sea away from the island. Instead, they advised her to swim upwards. I guess they couldn’t have predicted Hordy would spear Decken and, once the Mark Mark power wore off, the ship would come crashing down on top of Fishman Island, but still.

The betrayal scene was cool. Decken is obviously so detached from reality he had no idea Hordy was seething with rage when he hopped on deck.

“O hai, pal!” he laughed. “What happened to Neptune? Did you kill him? I’ve been tormenting Shirahoshi with the Noah. What do you think? Good idea, right?”

“Oh, I have an idea,” the shadowy figure of Hordy leered. “If you die now... what’ll happen to this ship?”

Then he stabbed Decken through the chest with his trident. That wasn’t the end of it. Decken hauled himself off it, blood dripping, then accidentally touched Hordy in the process, leaving  a mark on him.

“I panicked a bit when Noah sailed over,” Hordy admitted. “But I can’t kill you yet. Then the Mark Mark power will be ineffective and the ship will fall onto Fishman Island and destroy everything. More than anything, I want the Strawhats gone. Thousands of my men will die too, but I can get as many human slaves as I want later.” Nice, Hordy. Thousands of your men will die, but it’s okay, they can be replaced with human slaves. What happened to Fishman supremacy, eh?

Decken told him to drop dead and threw a blade. I’m not quite sure what happened here, but Hordy either ducked or moved behind Decken and the blade sliced into Decken. Ohhhhhhh, the shot of that sweet, sweet long distance body fall. Decken landed right next to his rose axe (which is a bit suspicious, to be honest. As I have not yet seen a body, I bet he’ll use the axe to take revenge against Hordy. The mark has not yet been removed, so...) 

Of course, counter betrayal accomplished, Hordy pressed on with his plan to hijack Decken’s psycho scheme. He caught up with Shirahoshi and grabbed her by the hair. Luckily, Luffy and Fukaboshi arrived fresh from a strategy talk. I have no idea what move it was Luffy pulled on Hordy, the snake shot one, but it looked like his hands were on fire? At any rate, Luffy said it didn’t work properly because he needed a bigger bubble, but it definitely hit Hordy hard. Looking forward to seeing it on a proper, ass-kicking scale! :D

“A fool like you can’t protect anything!” Hordy jeered.

“No,” Luffy said, absolutely dead pan. “I will protect them all. That’s what I’ve worked for over the past two years.”

For all Luffy adopts a happy-go-lucky attitude, I’ll never forget how low he was post-Marineford. It’s obviously affected him and this is one of the times he lets it show. He will never let something like that happen ever again. If anything threatens his crew, his friends or anyone he loves, they will regret it.

And speaking of...

Meanwhile... Back in the Plaza

Zoro and Sanji are having a great time!

I can’t wait to see Zoro kick that drunken Fishman swordsman’s ass. That guy is such a liability. Imagine killing all your allies just because you love cutting people. Great hire there, Hordy.

Classic Robin. xD

[theultimateegghead-blog]

Blood boiling and bone chilling Chainsaw Users!

The Chainsaw is a horrendously misused item in horror. While in real life it is a tool for lumber in horror it is an unstoppable weapon of mass destruction. Chainsaws can cut through flesh like hot butter and will obliterate all who stand before its might. Ill lay down some rules, not everyone on this list will be from strictly horror games. Second, they don’t have to just use chainsaws, they can use other weapons, but the chainsaw should be a major part of their weaponry. Finally, no chainsaw users that originated in movies such as Ash or Leatherface. Let’s take a look at some chainsaw users in video games! Rip and Tear!

Chainsaw Majini - Resident Evil 5

Now we already covered Dr. Salvador in an earlier list, now we will look at the Resident Evil 5 counterpart. The Chainsaw Majini is a deadly mini-boss that is never seen without his chainsaw. Much like Salvador, he can easily down the player in one shot. He will pursue you aggressively until he is either downed or you escape. He has quite a bit of health and can endure damage before staggering, if he collapses there is a good chance that he is not dead. Once downed, if his chainsaw is still on, he will get back up and enter an endless fury of slashes. If his chainsaw stops revving, then he is done. Luckily he is one of the rarer enemies in the game, but is dangerous nonetheless.

***************

Sawrunner - Cry of fear

Sawrunner is one of the most harrowing and dangerous foes in Cry of Fear. The Sawrunner will ambush Simon at several different points of the game. He is nearly unkillable and is extremely powerful, being bale to down Simon in one slash. This insane monstrosity is fast and very loud, the best way to survive is to run. The Sawrunner likes to appear out of nowhere and let out a bloodcurdling scream upon seeing you. Even if you do best him, it does not stop him from returning later. The only times he is set up as a slayable foe is in the custom stories.

***************

Piggsy – Manhunt

Piggsy is a deranged mass murderer and a “actor” in a large underground snuff film ring. A extremely mentally unstable man, Piggsy wanders the attic, armed with brute strength and a Chainsaw. He plays a deadly game of cat and mouse with the main protagonist and is shown to be incredibly resilient to damage. Piggsy acts almost like a child, pretending to be a pig. He attacks and stalks the player in a very violent manner and squeals when attacked. He is eventually sent plummeting to his death. Also he doesn’t wear pants…please get him some pants…

***************

Marcus Fenix - Gears of War

Marcus Fenix is the main character of the original Gears of War trilogy. A disgruntled COG soldier with a troubled past who is fighting desperately against the Locust Hoard. Marcus loses much in the war. In combat Marcus uses the standard COG weapon known as a Lancer. The Lancer is a machine gun with a powerful Chainsaw attached to the end. The chainsaw is strong enough to cut through most things, including the various Locust.

***************

Jack – Madworld

Jack is the main character of Mad World and is known for having a chainsaw strapped to his arm. A recurring fighter in the gruesome Deathwatch games, Jack slays hundreds of foes in order to win the prize. His reasoning, past and desires are largely unknown. What is known is that he is a brutal fighter who isn’t afraid to get bloody. He uses the chainsaw to great effect when he finishes off his foes.

***************

Juliet Starling - Lollipop Chainsaw

Juliet is a bona fide monster hunter who comes from a family of monster hunters. Juliet is a high school cheerleader who seems blissfully unaware of the madness unfolding around her. Her entire town is engulfed by legions of vulgar, evil zombies and it is up to her…and the decapitated head of her boyfriend to stop them. Hyped up on lollipops and using colorful pom poms, she is exceptionally skilled at cutting down the hordes of the undead.

***************

Bladewolf - Metal gear Rising

Blade Wolf is a powerful AI weapon that is under the control of Desperado and serves as an early boss. It attacks with a chainsaw like bladed tail sword. It battles Raiden and summons waves of allies to help it in a somewhat tough battle. However, Raiden emerges victorious. Blade Wolf is subsequently rebuilt and changes sides, though once he joins Raiden he loses the chainsaw sword tail. He serves as a voice of reason for Raiden at times and proves to be a very faithful ally. In the end he gets a happy life at Sunny and Otacon’s air base.

***************

Hillbilly - Dead by Daylight

The Hillbilly is a deranged killer with a tormented past. He was tormented by his parents until he finally snapped and killed them. He is extremely territorial and will slaughter anyone who dares encroach his territory. The Hillbilly is very strong, nearly impervious to pain, and intelligent enough to make weapons out of scrap. He primarily uses a hammer and a chainsaw; the chainsaw needs to be charged but can be devastating. His disfigured visage is a homage to Leatherface.

***************

Doom Slayer – DOOM 2016

I know what you’re thinking, he isn’t holding a chainsaw! Well, The Doom Slayer has a large arsenal of weapons ranging from a pistol to a powerful energy cannon. However, the Chainsaw can be a very helpful tool in his arsenal. The Chainsaw in DOOM is a mighty weapon that can kill most enemies instantly in a brutal fashion. It runs on fuel and its use is limited, but it can be helpful for taking down some of the bigger baddies in the game.  I could not ignore the DOOM chainsaw’s might.

***************

Stanley Decker - Zombies Ate my Neighbors

Some people want to cause havoc. Stanley Decker is one such person. With the zombie apocalypse ravaging a neighborhood, Decker decided to adorn a mask and chainsaw and go on a murderous rampage. Decker is strong and can deal heavy damage. He can kill innocents and tear through walls with his saw. While he cannot one shot the player like many other chainsaw enemies, he can still lay the smack down. What’s worse is when there is somehow more than one…

***************

Hopefully we are all still in one piece. Now that they have been talked about its back to the level grind, this time with ghost towns! Those are spooky right?

[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient book of Proverbs and book of Psalms

for September 27 of 2021 with Proverbs 27 and Psalm 27, accompanied by Psalm 6 for the 6th day of Astronomical Autumn and Psalm 120 for day 270 of the year (now with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 2nd revolution this year)

[Proverbs 27]

[Heed Wisdom’s Warnings]

Never brag about the plans you have for tomorrow,

for you don’t have a clue what tomorrow may bring to you.

Let someone else honor you for your accomplishments,

for self-praise is never appropriate.

It’s easier to carry a heavy boulder and a ton of sand

than to be provoked by a fool and have to carry that burden!

The rage and anger of others can be overwhelming,

but it’s nothing compared to jealousy’s fire.

It’s better to be corrected openly

if it stems from hidden love.

You can trust a friend who wounds you with his honesty,

but your enemy’s pretended flattery comes from insincerity.

When your soul is full, you turn down even the sweetest honey.

But when your soul is starving,

every bitter thing becomes sweet.

Like a bird that has fallen from its nest

is the one who is dislodged from his home.

Sweet friendships refresh the soul and awaken our hearts with joy,

for good friends are like the anointing oil

that yields the fragrant incense of God’s presence.

So never give up on a friend or abandon a friend of your father—

for in the day of your brokenness

you won’t have to run to a relative for help.

A friend nearby is better than a relative far away.

My son, when you walk in wisdom,

my heart is filled with gladness,

for the way you live is proof

that I’ve not taught you in vain.

A wise, shrewd person discerns the danger ahead

and prepares himself,

but the naïve simpleton never looks ahead

and suffers the consequences.

Cosign for one you barely know and you will pay a great price!

Anyone stupid enough to guarantee the loan of another

deserves to have his property seized in payment.

Do you think you’re blessing your neighbors

when you sing at the top of your lungs early in the morning?

Don’t be fooled—

they’ll curse you for doing it!

An endless drip, drip, drip, from a leaky faucet

and the words of a cranky, nagging wife have the same effect.

Can you stop the north wind from blowing

or grasp a handful of oil?

That’s easier than to stop her from complaining.

It takes a grinding wheel to sharpen a blade,

and so one person sharpens the character of another.

Tend an orchard and you’ll have fruit to eat.

Serve the Master’s interests

and you’ll receive honor that’s sweet.

Just as no two faces are exactly alike,

so every heart is different.

Death and destruction are never filled,

and the desires of men’s hearts are insatiable.

Fire is the way to test the purity of silver and gold,

but the character of a man is tested

by giving him a measure of fame.

You can beat a fool half to death

and still never beat the foolishness out of him.

A shepherd should pay close attention to the faces of his flock

and hold close to his heart the condition of those he cares for.

A man’s strength, power, and riches will one day fade away;

not even nations endure forever.

Take care of your responsibilities

and be diligent in your business

and you will have more than enough—

an abundance of food, clothing, and plenty for your household.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 27 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 27]

A song of David.

The Eternal is my light amidst my darkness

and my rescue in times of trouble.

So whom shall I fear?

He surrounds me with a fortress of protection.

So nothing should cause me alarm.

When my enemies advanced

to devour me alive,

They tripped and fell flat on their faces into the soil.

When the armies of the enemy surround me,

I will not be afraid.

When death calls for me in the midst of war,

my soul is confident and unmoved.

I am pleading with the Eternal for this one thing,

my soul’s desire:

To live with Him all of my days—

in the shadow of His temple,

To behold His beauty and ponder His ways

in the company of His people.

His house is my shelter and secret retreat.

It is there I find peace in the midst of storm and turmoil.

Safety sits with me in the hiding place of God.

He will set me on a rock, high above the fray.

God lifts me high above those with thoughts

of death and deceit that call for my life.

I will enter His presence, offering sacrifices and praise.

In His house, I am overcome with joy

As I sing, yes, and play music for the Eternal alone.

I cannot shout any louder. Eternal One—hear my cry

and respond with Your grace.

The prodding of my heart leads me to chase after You.

I am seeking You, Eternal One—don’t retreat from me.

You have always answered my call.

Don’t hide from me now.

Don’t give up on me in anger at Your servant.

You have always been there for me.

Don’t throw me to the side and forget me,

my God and only salvation.

My father and mother have deserted me,

yet the Eternal will take me in.

O Eternal, show me Your way,

shine Your light brightly on this path, and make it level for me,

for my enemies are lurking in the recesses and ravines along the way.

They are watching—hoping to seize me.

Do not release me to their desires or surrender me to their will!

Liars are standing against me,

breathing out cruel lies hoping that I will die.

I will move past my enemies with this one, sure hope:

that with my own eyes, I will see the goodness of the Eternal

in the land of the living.

Please answer me: Don’t give up.

Wait for the Eternal in expectation, and be strong.

Again, wait for the Eternal.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 27 (The Voice)

with these lines in The Message:

I’m asking God for one thing,

only one thing:

To live with him in his house

my whole life long.

I’ll contemplate his beauty;

I’ll study at his feet.

That’s the only quiet, secure place

in a noisy world,

The perfect getaway,

far from the buzz of traffic.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 27:4-5 (The Message)

[Psalm 6]

For the worship leader. A song of David accompanied by the lyre.

O Eternal One, don’t punish me in Your anger

or harshly correct me.

Show me grace, Eternal God. I am completely undone.

Bring me back together, Eternal One. Mend my shattered bones.

My soul is drowning in darkness.

How long can You, the Eternal, let things go on like this?

Come back, Eternal One, and lead me to Your saving light.

Rescue me because I know You are truly compassionate.

I’m alive for a reason—I can’t worship You if I’m dead.

If I’m six feet under, how can I thank You?

I’m exhausted. I cannot even speak, my voice fading as sighs.

Every day ends in the same place—lying in bed, covered in tears,

my pillow wet with sorrow.

My eyes burn, devoured with grief;

they grow weak as I constantly watch for my enemies.

All who are evil, stay away from me

because the Eternal hears my voice, listens as I cry.

The Eternal God hears my simple prayers;

He receives my request.

All who seek to destroy me will be humiliated;

they will turn away and suddenly crumble in shame.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 6 (The Voice)

[Psalm 120]

God Helped Me

A song of the stairway

I was desperate for you to help me in my struggles, and you did!

So come and deliver me now

from this treachery and false accusation.

O lying deceivers, don’t you know what is your fate?

You will be pierced through with condemnation

and consumed with burning coals of fire!

Why am I doomed to live as an alien,

scattered among these cruel savages?

Am I destined to dwell in the darkened tents of desert nomads?

For too long I’ve had to live among those who hate peace.

I speak words of peace while they speak words of war,

but they refuse to listen.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 120 (The Passion Translation)

[deadpanprincess]

Sins of Believing Chap 3

Gluttony 

Read on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12510504

His hand rests between her shoulder blades, the touch so light that Jyn feels energy radiating from his fingers rather than the physical weight of the limb. She keeps her shoulders lowered and neutral. They try to crawl up towards her ears.

It is just that, Cassian touches her more, now. Not enough to catch anyone's attention, but certainly more frequently than their previous playact as strict Captain and Sergeant. Jyn attempts to relax into the simple physicality, but she only knows touch as aggression. Contact means that they found her, that they have her, that they can hold her.

The raucous noise of the mess hall does not help. Forks clatter, spoons tap, knives jolt against duraplastic plates. Every sound makes her jump further into the hand at her back. She hunches forward over her own mush, but Cassian’s hand follows her. The length of his body presses against her side. Jyn cannot escape the heat of him.

Even sex--before Cassian--was an unpassionate coupling where two people grinded against each other for a brief release. With Cassian, Jyn still has to steal private moments. She grabs him by the back of his jacket and yanks him into an empty hanger, or sends him urgent messages so he rushes to their room. Then he spans her ribs with his palms, his breath hot and damp against her neck, his stomach rigid as he moves under her. Touch is a critical piece of their tactile vocabulary, yea, but Jyn wants to keep his touches for herself. Cassian loudly proclaims them with his small, possessive gestures while she fights to keep something out of the Rebellion's grasp.

She still shares his quarters, though. Jyn still lists him as her next of kin. Their relationship is so tied into the Rebellion that distance cannot exist. It does not stop her wanting.

They separate as they leave the mess hall. Cassian turns one way, Jyn another. His hand lowers and lingers at the small of her back, still too faint to truly feel. He has a meeting with some fancy named officer she has not bothered to memorize. She has to teach the fresh-off-the-ships how to not die. It is just another too-quick moment between responsibilities that she accepted but never asked for. Reconciling their time together and apart gives her a headache. The Rebellion controls that too.

Jyn punches her need into her current recruit. The private dodges well, but drops her hands as she weaves. Jyn flows through the movement. Her hips twist for added power. She slams her fist into the private's cheek and the woman drops to the ground in a heap. The other recruits eye each other. It has been at least a month since Sergeant Erso laid someone out so fully. The last time was when Bodhi Rook was MIA after the destruction of the Death Star.

"M'am?" A private asks. All of the recruits line up against the wall, waiting for their turn to spar with the Sergeant. Each of them have damp spots of sweat on their new uniforms. She has run them through their paces before kicking the bantha shit out of them. Not unusual, but certainly not following the protocol that has been instilled into them since landing on Hoth.

Jyn grunts an encouragement for the private to continue. She does not turn towards him or help up the recruit she knocked out. Her fingers waggle to release the tension of her fist.

"Ma’am, maybe we could--" Another bead of sweat runs down Private Prashik’s face.

"Sergeant Erso, your presence is requested," K2 interrupts. Jyn's trainees exhale with relief for the interruption. Jyn turns on her heel to meet Kay's dark blue lenses. The droid stands straight and firm before the open training room door. It makes conscious the effort to stand apart from the new recruits.

"By who?" She demands.

"Captain Andor," K2 says. It and Jyn stare each other down. The recruits go back to holding their breath.

"Tell him I'll be there in an hour," she says.

"He says it is urgent."

Jyn eyes the droid for another moment. She could take it in its new body. K2--K4-PN if she wants to be specific (but it is more bothered when she is not)--no longer stands at seven feet with an impenetrable chassis. It currently resides in a smaller protocol droid, made for diplomacy over warfare. Yea, Jyn could definitely rip out a few wires before it dragged her to Cassian.

Kay balances its weight more firmly into the ground. A few quick calculations and it assures itself of Jyn Erso's three most common engagement moves and their statistically successful rebuttals. Jyn takes a step towards it. Then another. One more step, her jaw tense, and then she walks straight past K2 with only a mock jab at its metallic arm. K2 swerves too hard for the light tab and almost falls, optical-sensor side down, as he hustles to follow her. Laughter and relieved chatter from the recruits reverberates against the durasteel door as it slides closed behind them.

"That display was not necessary," Kay scolds from her side. It may not be a giant any more, but its stride is still long enough to make up any head start she may have. The added length lets it cock its head as if curious, and still catch her eye. "Did you engage in such an activity to prove your dominance to the other organics?" It asks.

"Nope," Jyn sing-songs. "That was just an added benefit."

"Then the primary objective was to irritate me?" Kay queries.

"Isn't it always?" Jyn goads. Kay's new hardware rattles and clanks in a cadence similar to Cassian's amused sigh. It then speeds up its pace in retaliation. The droid quickly directs her down one corridor after another, its arm outstretched with beleaguered patience. Jyn could jog to keep up, but she prefers to stroll a few feet behind Kay and cause it to approximate a sigh again.

After the third turn, Jyn recognizes the blank durasteel of command quarters. Unlike the areas occupied by the lower ranking rebels, command has no flyers or pictures or color. The hallways are cleaned to a spit shine and the only wall adornment is the first initial and family name or affiliation of each officer. Kay leads her into the bare quarters that serve as Intelligence's meeting room. Only a thick, too wide table and two chairs fill the space. Intelligence does not even bother with a holoscreen. All communication is to be passed by flimsi and then destroyed. Jyn has had a few warm nights on Hoth burning Cassian's latest brief.

"I thought he had a Council meeting," she says. Kay pulls out a chair for her, though Jyn refuses to sit.

"He does." Its lenses flash bright blue with the response. A surprising tell for the droid, one that informs Jyn instantly.

"Cassian told you to come get me."  

"The direct order was to, and I quote: 'keep you from breaking any new soldiers.' Apparently, it is due to your recent foul mood. I have analyzed your latest social interactions and do not see the difference he seems to find."

Jyn slams her fist on the conference table. K2 does not react. It is too similar to how Cassian handles her outbursts.

"He doesn’t get to tell me how to train my recruits!" She says.

"Captain Andor is your commanding officer," Kay taunts, though its tone stays level.

"We'll see about that." Jyn cracks her knuckles sharply. K2 steps easily in front of the singular door. They evaluate each other, and this time Jyn has a hand on the blaster at her thigh.

"I would not recommend this path of action, Jyn Erso." Kay is just egging her on now.  

Jyn sneers. Her upper lip curls back from her teeth with a barely contained snarl. She will not be told what to do. With a flick of her wrist, Jyn draws her blaster and fires. Kay defends its function operations with its arms crossed in a wide x over its mainframe. No bolt comes. K2 lowers its arms and mocks, "You have missed."

There is nothing but empty space in front of Kay. Its aural sensors pick up the clank of Jyn's boots in the hallway, and its olfactory sensors receive chemical compounds that register as smoke from the damaged control panel next to the door it guards.  

Jyn walks swiftly through the corridors. Turning, turning, turning through the soft memory she has of the base. She did not bother to memorize the layout. They had not expected to be on Hoth so long.

She reaches the farthest ship terminal. A softly hummed song leads her past one x-wing after another until she finds the source of the music. Black Imperial boots wiggle in rhythm as he sings. He has wedged himself sideways so that his toes and the top of his head peek out on either side of the dilapidated ship. Grease smears across Bodhi's goggles and the ends of his newly shorn hair. Jyn can no longer pull him out from under a ship by the silk of his ponytail.

Everything changes like that.

Jyn enjoys the calm before kneeling carefully to where she knows he has his face jammed into a hyperdrive. She flicks his ear. His toes wave in greeting.

"Bodhi," she says. "I need the ship."

He pops out from underneath the hull. Behind the oil stains and the lenses, excitement mixes with apprehension.

"We have a mission?" He asks.

"No," Jyn answers hard and cold. Bodhi only tilts his head. His goggles slip down past his right eye. Jyn recognizes the question in the slant, but she does not have to answer.

"Are you leaving?" Bodhi tries again.

She had considered it. Running is the only familiar action; but Jyn cannot disappear anymore. There are people she loves and who she will not leave--not completely.

"No," Jyn says again.

Bodhi studies the angry press of her lips. The expression she once wore on Jedha looks wrong on the post-Scarif Jyn. Her mouth does not form righteous selfishness in the same way. She can no longer pretend to afford the luxury of apathy, though she still tries. The only tell is the quiver that lurks in her chin.

So Bodhi leaves the rest of his questions because he cannot stand to see her cry. If Jyn says she is not leaving, then she is escaping. He remembers the claustrophobia of responsibility and commitment, and a promise made to the only man he could trust. Jyn has never known that kind of security. Bodhi will not begrudge her the freedom to find it.

"Do you want me to come?" He swears to himself that it is his last question.

"Yes," Jyn laughs. The sound hollows in the middle. Bodhi gets that too. She claps her hand on his shoulder, a bland goodbye that he does not accept. Bodhi shimmies out completely from under the ship and pulls them both to standing. He throws his arms around her waist. Bodhi inhales cold sweat and fear, strength and sterility of the sonic 'fresher from the crook of her neck. He promises himself that he will not forget how she smells. A small detail that only few are privileged to know.

"I'm going to miss you," he says into her jacket collar. Cassian's jacket collar, actually. For a split second, Bodhi worries about his captain. The moment passes as Jyn releases him. She busses a soft peck and a quiet, "Me too," against Bodhi's cheek.

He steps back and watches as Jyn vaults into the x wing's open cockpit. At least she takes one of the ships he has worked on himself. It will definitely get her wherever she needs to go.

Repulsor engines warm the cold Hoth hangar. Bodhi stays as the roof opens, as Jyn poorly pilots out, as the ship disappears.

Cassian only receives a message on his datapad. It reads:

      I don't belong to you.  

[mortalshinobi]

Memories of Illusion

short fanfic of 9s taking revenge on A2 and having memories of 2b. enjoy

He reaches it, climbing the many levels of the main tower, reaching its peak even as dizziness wears on him, even as the logic sensors within his being tell him to turn back. Turn back. Preserve yourself. But for what? What does it matter anymore? With 2b gone there’s nothing to go back to. There’s no longer any value to his being. Everything he’s ever wanted or needed.... everything that made him value his core... they’re all gone now. 

He stares at the small hand, one that matches his own in size that looks so similar to that of 2b but is all wrong. It doesn’t belong to her. It never did. It belonged to a copy, a fraud that bore 2b’s face and model. So he terminated it, terminated each and every inferior unit that was on the floor below. Though embarrassingly, not without taking some damage himself. His own left arm had been taken because of his lack of caution. Not that it matters, he thinks, squeezing his left hand, taken from a fallen model. They were just copies, after all. Fakes. Illusions with her face and form! The real 2b, he thinks, she is gone and she is never coming back! And it’s all that woman’s fault! It’s...

“Unit 9s seems to be suffering a leak. Maintenance is suggested to address the problem,” he hears his pod say. He turns to regard the pod, giving it a small smile. Pod 153 is the pod unit assigned to assist him during missions but it is still a very practical unit who does not understand divergence of regular system standards. So 9s explains.

“It’s not a leak, 153. I’m simply crying.”

“Querry,” says the machine as he begins to walk anew. “Why does unit 9s cry?”

He is quiet for a moment before he answers, regarding the pod from behind his blindfold, sword held in twitching hand.

“Because I feel pain.”

“Querry. What is causing unit 9s pain?” says the machine floating above him.

He regards the pod for a moment before ignoring the question and heading upwards through the stairs, hearing the rumble from the generator below that shakes the floors above. The sound is very loud and he can feel that the building itself will give way as the stairs and walls begin to crack around him. The flat box like pod flies before him which he waves aside.

“Unit 9s should retreat. Grounds upon which he walks have become very unstable. Likely hood of collapse within the next ten minutes eminent.”

“It doesn’t matter,” says 9s, his scanners picking up the figure on the floor above, seeming motionless, waiting. For him, no doubt. His hand tightens on the hilt of his blade as he withdraws it in a quick arc. “I won’t be here long,” he hisses under his breath. One way or another, everything will end now. After he terminates unit A2.

  It was weeks prior, when Yorja had been infiltrated with a virus leak from Eve, the machine life form taking on human identity. A destructive program that would make those infected lash out at those not infected with the virus, those who had separated from the core program. But even these could be infected. It infected 2b earlier, though he’d been able to hack into her systems and remove it, or so he’d thought. Apparently... driving into 2b’s systems had undesired effects, namely; exposing him to the virus. 

Slowly... it seems to be affecting his programing, making his vision fuzz, systems blaring as they try to retain normal functions. It doesn’t matter though, because of the woman above. Because of what she did, and even as he walks closer towards her, his steps resounding on the stone floor, his arm shakes with anger, teeth grinding against one another as tears stream down his cheeks. It’s her fault! All of this is her fault! And she’ll pay for what she did to 2b!

“This unit is monitoring a continuance of said leak “crying.” says the pod, hovering before him. “It is suggested to move away from functions that cause unit 9s pain.”

He ignores the pod, pushing past it, gripping the handle of the door to the next room, opening it with a boom as he throws it open. The woman... the cause for his pain, stands almost motionless only fifty feet away from him, wind blowing through synthetic white hair as she turns slowly to regard him with sad eyes.

“9s,” she whispers in a disheartened tone as if the word itself weighs upon her conscious. 9s can only grit his teeth as he regards the tall woman before him, thinking back on that moment when he’d landed back on earth and chased after 2b, looking to find her, only just seeing her when the being before him cut her down, taking her away from him!

“Shut up!” he barks at her. “You have no right to address me by my name! Only 2b had that right... and you killed her!”

The woman sighs, her body tensing only slightly as she turns towards him, eyes cool but weighted with a pain he imagines 2b herself carried. She points her blade towards him, regarding him. 

“I wouldn’t think a scanner model like yourself would be so foolish,” she says, “coming after me like this.”

Slowly the blade is lowered and she sighs, letting out a long breath.

“This isn’t what she wanted for you, you know? She wanted you to live a full, long life.”

“Shut up!” he yells, glaring at the woman before him. “What would you know about 2b?! Don’t talk about her like you knew her! You knew nothing about her!”

The woman presses her lips together in a frown before she responds.

“It appears it is you who knows nothing about the being you call “2b.” The truth of the matter you should now be aware of. 2b was an alias she was using to get close to you and monitor your being. Her real identification class was unit 2e. A yorha elimination unit, meant to watch over and eliminate rogue elements within the yorha program who began to step out of line from the objective. Units... like yourself.”

He begins to shiver, a giggle escaping his lips that turns into a full throated laugh.  He’d already known about 2b’s identity. It wasn’t like she was very good at hiding that type of thing. Still... just to be around her was.... pleasurable. It made life worth living for and gave him something worth fighting for... even if in the end she was meant to kill him. Still... to have her taken away from him like this... because of this trash objective, an objective he’d also found out about which made all these missions down to earth redundant without meaning. And this causes so much pain that he can only hide behind a breaking madness that pushes to the surface. All this pain... it was caused... for nothing!

“So what?!  What does that objective matter when humans are already dead?” 

The words catch the woman off guard, a slight flinching to her eyes as she realizes he’s caught on to the truth, so he pushes on with his words.

“We were all just expendable units for Yorha. All of us.. Fighting for a lie without meaning! Me... 2b... thrown away for something that doesn’t exist anymore!”

“You’re wrong, 9s,” says the woman. “This tower contains the last of the data regarding humans. Unless we protect and stop its destruction, then...”

“So what?” he says, cutting her off. “Weren’t you listening to what I said? None of that matters anymore! Yorha is gone. Humanity is gone. 2b... is...”

He shivers, the tears he’d tried to deny before his enemy flowing freely. His pod floats before him, waving its arms as it speaks.

“Current actions are unsuitable for unit 9s. Unit A2 outclasses unit 9s’ combat ability and is causing unit 9s pain. It is suggested to retreat away from the cause of such pain and formulate a new strategy.”

“Sometimes...” says the young man, gripping his blindfold and pulling it away from his eyes which stare with a blinking red glare, threatening to shut off as the logic virus corrodes his systems. There is no salvation any longer. He will soon cease to exist as he is, he thinks. So there is no reason not to fight. 

“Sometimes...” he says, “sometimes you just have to fight through that pain. Pod 153, until this fight is over and either unit A2 or myself are terminated, cease output of logic speak. That’s an order!”

He raises his blade, pointing it at the woman who simply regards him with sadness as she watches his pod unit float away.

“Is this what you really want?” she ask.

“You murdered 2b!” he growls. “There’s nothing else I want.”

He charges at the woman with a violence and ferocity normally unknown to the scanner units of his model, normally... but he has been around 2b too long, picking up combat strategies and knowledge coupled with the rage he has felt since her death, the desire to terminate A2 has grown to such a level that he attacks with strength he should not have, pushing past boundaries in his system parameters. 

Even so, it seems that A2 holds back in her own combat objective, pushing aside his sword repeatedly, not a one swipe or strike seeming to come any nearer to removing her head from her shoulders than the last. This seems to only enrage him further. Is he so pathetic, so beneath her notice she need not put her full focus on him? Is he so weak he can’t even attempt to avenge 2b, to correct the wrongs that have been done her? No! This can’t be! He won’t let it end like this!

He strikes hard then, with a far harder blow that leaves him open briefly and for a moment he sees A2 raise her blade, considering putting it through his heart, but there is a pause, a desire to step away from such an action that he takes advantage of, thrusting his blade forward, through A2’s hated black box, piercing it through her chest. She stares back at him, wide eyed, the briefest of surprise and sadness in her eyes before she falls forward, slumping to the floor, the light in her eyes fading as her systems shut down. He’s succeeded... He thinks, looking upon her even as he struggles to move his legs, coughing blood and other fluids from his lips.

Shit, he thinks, raising a hand covered in viscous fluid. I wasn’t careful, he thinks, letting his forehead fall back against the floor even as the blade inside his flesh scrapes against the box inside his chest, digging deeper into the frame, making cough in more pain. But this is his fault anyways. In running A2 through with his own sword she’d instinctively brought her sword forward in a protective measure, inadvertently running him through as well. 

Hands squeeze the hilt of the blade, teeth grit as he looks upon it, a light giggle escaping his lips. 2b’s sword. Of course it’d be her sword. Even when she isn’t here to kill him, she’s still the one to end his life. It’s so... Pathetic, to die this way... Again. 

He lays his head against the floor, trying to push through the pain that is killing him, his eyes already fluctuating more severely further compromised by the virus.

“Well... 2b... I did it. I avenged your death. I’m sorry... I couldn’t live as you wanted me to.”

Tears form at the edges of his eyes as he looks out towards the empty terrain of the tower, the building rumbling, cracks running along fissures of the surface as the floor begins to tear to allow the weapon beneath them to fire at what remains of the data of the humans. Humans. Fighting for an illusion that no longer exist... It’s just like him to fight for something like that even when it no longer exist. Like 2b.... Who perished months ago. Who no longer exist. The irony of the situation is not lost to him. It’s just so... Pathetic, he thinks as a warm tear runs down his cheek. How is it he let it come to this... With his systems shutting down as the floor beneath him cracks and crumbles away?

He lays his head down on the floor, feeling it ripping apart even as his vision blinks between red and normal, flashing between blackness at spurts of increasing increments. It is just so... Pathetic.

I wish... He thinks, I wish I could have seen her one more time....

There is an echo in the distance, one that grows pronounced and louder as it seems to near, despite the rumbling of the earth beneath him, his vision only catching a figure in black with a flock of white hair.

“2b?” he whispers, even knowing it can not be the case. How can it, after all? Such is just fanciful thinking on his part as the 2b he knows died months ago. The only thing this could be... Is a fake. One of the models from the floor below probably come to investigate the disturbance on the floor above... And finish the work. He grimaces as this thought crosses his mind, thinking it such a cruel thing to have set upon him in his last moments. 

The figure seems ignorant of such thoughts as she nears, her boots suddenly filling his vision as they stop before him. He grits his teeth in anger, fingers curling as he wishes to punch the being who bears her semblance. 

“You’re not 2...” he whispers when his words are cut off by the android’s own voice.

“9s?” she says in question.

He hears his name, a name the models below could not know, and slowly lifts his pained head, vision still blinking between active and fading, to focus on a face with lips that curl into a worried frown and soft vibrant blue eyes that look upon him with concern.

“2b.....” he says, extending a hand towards, trembling as he struggles to make his body function when it wishes to give out, but wishing, that if this were a dream... Or illusion, that he can at least grasp it and not let go.

2b smiles down upon him, kneeling down and extending her own hand, grasping his between strong and powerful fingers. 

“Let’s go home, 9s,” she says.

“yeah...” he whispers, even as his vision now clouds fully, seeming to shut down. “Let’s do that.”

Even if it is an illusion, he thinks. He’d rather hold this than embrace the emptiness that is reality. Anything is better than that, even lies of something... That does not exist.

[paperok4-blog]

Rift chapter- 8

Choices made over starvation

-Kimberly-

I walked through the forest my head throbbing from what happened last night

-Where are you going?- the voice echoed through my head -you cannot defy me forever- the forest seemed to extend on infinitely in front of me –you could have killed your brother when you had the chance sparing him from his fate.-

“shut up” my voice was weak “you don’t know anything, your not real!” laughter shook my mind forcing me to cradle my head and scream in pain

-NOT REAL?- the voice taunted -I am just as real as you are girl!- my head felt as if it were splitting apart, I fell to my knees -you’ve always had to learn the hard way I guess that’s just part of who you are- STOP IT! I would not be controlled not any longer I had to overcome the pain. I forced myself onto my feet -now I want to hear you scream!- every cell in my body seemed to catch on fire; yet I did not scream. my bones felt as if they were being grinded against scorching steel; yet I did not scream. I walked forward, every step I took seemed to bring another level of pain; but still I walked  -what the, you’ve managed to adjust to my rage-

“leave me alone” my ragged voice begged

-oh well, ill have you know that this is about less than 5 percent of what I am capable of; ill just amp up the.- the pain suddenly vanished, the voice went completely silent.

“are you okay?” a boys voice asked from behind me I turned slowly to see an older boy, he wore a red shirt and blue jeans  looking like a regular guy from my world.

“w-who are you?” I asked my head feeling sore

“I’m Sol” he said inspecting me carefully I started to back away from him, the last thing I needed was another death. “who are you?” he asked. I tried to think of how I could respond without revealing that I’m from Primum not that my name itself would reveal much, I found myself blankly staring at him he stared back seeming confused “are you okay?” he reached out to touch me but I stepped out of his reach

“I’m leaving” I said “don`t mind me” I continued to back away from him not taking my eyes off him, for some reason I was growing tense. It was as if I were bound by chains unable to move, the feeling vanished as soon as it came.

“I can give you some food” he offered kindly “you seem like you could use it, my house isn’t far from here and my brother can cook really well” I considered my options, going with him getting free food I could leave if they attacked me or something its not like they could stop me or I could keep going wherever I’m going which is probably where the voice wants me to go, my stomach grumbled sealing the deal

“yeah sure” I gave in

It was strange. Sol led me towards his home, he talked about how his father worked as a priest in the nearby village and how his brother Luno learned to cook from their late mother. I didn’t talk much I was going back to how I was, quiet, brooding homicidal. My thoughts were cut short when a small shack came into view, unlike Gordon`s house it was in a clearing there was a clothes line on the side of it which was packed with a variety of garments making me wonder how two boys could produce that much laundry

“uh hello?” apparently Sol was still talking, he stared at me confused “you alright?”

“yeah yeah, I’m great” I said. He continued to stare at me, I felt he would attack me the moment I moved. I wanted to move, I wanted him to attack me, I wanted to kill him. “about that food” I broke the silence, he took a few moments to respond he glanced at the house then back at me

“yeah my brother should be almost done” he continued walking towards the house and I followed. When we reached it he knocked on the door

“isn’t this your home?” I asked “don’t you have a key?”

“oh, I left it when I went out to-” he paused for a moment “to get firewood” he knocked on the door again.

“you don’t have any firewood” I commented carefully

“well, I found you before I found any firewood”

“it gets pretty cold around here, so helping me is more important than staying warm? and there are literally trees all around us” he didn’t respond, I went to speak again but the door swung inwards revealing nothing on the other side except darkness.

“come on in” he said still not moving at this point I was ready to run, how stupid did he think I was? I took a step back prepared to fight my way out of this if I had to “you aren’t going anywhere” he insisted. I let out a stale laugh

“what is this?” I asked

“I told you how good a cook my brother is didn’t I?” he turned to face me a large knife in his hand “both of us have a very unique appetite” it took an instant for his words to click in my mind: cannibals. Multiple options flashed through my mind: let them kill me, run, kill them and see if they have any spare food. I was hungry.

“wait” I started but he didn’t listen, he spun swinging his knife at my throat I stepped back then lunged forward whipping out my bowie knife and with a swift swipe knocking his blade from his hand. A sudden fear flashed across his face as I leveled my knife to his throat.

“Luno!” he shouted “Help me!” almost instantly a whooshing sound to my right caught my attention and I stepped back out of the way of an arrow shot, instantly my attention turned to its area of origin: the tree line. Another arrow was shot toward me allowing me to pinpoint the shooter, I pivoted to the right evading the arrow and charged towards them. “Shoot her legs!” Sol demanded as I advanced on the archer who continued firing arrows not bothering to move.  Fool I thought running in zig-zagged lines, a meter from the treeline I could she the shooter, he had two arrows cocked in his bow I threw my knife lodging it in his shoulder knocking him off balance but he surprisingly recovered quickly aiming his bow directly at me. In that fatal moment I hesitated: what’s the point of fighting to  survive? The only one who wants me alive is the voice, if I let myself die now who would it really hurt? I heard the twang of the arrows being released but I was already reacting. I hurled myself upwards by launching a wave of force towards the ground then, midair as the arrows passed by under me I aimed both of my hands at the shooter and blasted him with as much force as I could produce. The impact blew him away knocking down several trees in his direction as well, I landed hard on my side and took a moment to take in the destruction I was being controlled wasn’t I? “NO!” Sol ran past me and started searching for his brother throughout the rubble, for a moment I watched

-kill him before he realizes the fact that his brother is dead- the voice was back, I’m not going to kill him. -at this point it would be a mercy to take his life- the voice seemed rather sympathetic it gave me chills, I stood up and started walking back towards the house -that’s quite cruel child, I cant say I agree with the choices your making- I froze in my tracks, I could still hear Sol crying out for his brother in the background.

“you haven’t gave me a choice” I kept my voice low “you made me kill all those people! You took control of me!” the voice laughs

-I guess I should tell you something child, my name is Garragan and I am capable of many things but taking control of living things is not one of them, the reason I chose you to bring here was because you were so much like me all that murderous intent was already there I just helped you realize that-

“shut up” I said weakly continuing on my path towards the house hopefully they had food. -look out- a hard object connected with my back throwing me to the ground, then there was a load of weight pressing me down

“you killed him” Sol was sitting on me “you killed my fucking brother!” he got a fistful of my hair and yanked my head forcefully back “I’m going to tear you limb from limb you bitch” he growled

-what did I tell you? You should’ve killed him- Sol let go of my head and bent my arms behind by back -are you letting him do this?- he tied my arms together at the wrist -Fight back!- he yanked my head back again and smashed my head against the ground -he`ll kill you!- I did not respond to him. Sol began to drag me towards the house by my hair forcing a grunt out of me -you plan to…. I see- Sol picked up the knife I had earlier knocked from his hands -you want him to kill you, to spite me!- he kneeled down beside me knife in hand, I tried to hide my fear convinced I could handle anything he could dish out

“maybe I should satisfy some of my, needs first” I hadn’t realized what he meant until he grabbed my sweater and started to cut it open

“NO!” I screamed struggling against the ropes restricting my hands “Please!” he cut the front of my sweater to shreds and yanked it apart then started on my shirt, the voice had gone silent again

“ill make you like it” he insisted “then we can live together and be happy!” he fumbled dropping his knife

“I just killed your brother!” I shrieked “kill me!” he picked the knife back up and quickly swiped at my shirt, I felt the cold blade cut my skin and tensed up, it wasn’t the same as the pain the voice put me through. It was real. He grabbed at my breasts, I tried to roll away from him but he knocked the air out of me with a blow to my gut

“you can have my kid!” he exclaimed “everything will be perfect!”

-this is why you should obey me- Sol froze

“what was that?”

-You will do nothing more to this girl-

“where is that coming from?” he could hear the voice?

-now, CEASE TO EXIST- Sol stumbled away from me clawing at his head screaming, he fell backwards his body arching as if someone were pulling him up by his guts then something broke and he fell limp. Dead. I sat up staring at his corpse

“what did you do?” I asked

-what you made me do, from now on you obey my every word, is that clear- I stood up shakily, he was going to rape me -is that clear?- he would’ve raped me -ANSWER ME!-

“Y-yes”

-now go into the house and feed yourself, also take his knife you’ll need it-

https://www.booksie.com/471581-rift