#or do you just want to fuck a human with metal skin. BOO!

[fullmoondagger]

EMBARASSING!

Self-described robot and machine fucker unable to understand why people would feel attraction towards computers and machinery!

[soldat-buck]

i had a vision while making coffee this morning

bg3 culinary headcanons: Companion Edition

- Shadowheart: absolute zero regard for contamination while cooking. kitchen habits of a permanent bachelor. licks the tasting spoon clean and keeps using it to cook. eats hot cocoa straight out of the container with a spoon. thinks pouring ranch over an entire head of lettuce and eating it like feral animal while holding it over the kitchen sink counts as "salad". if you can get past the contamination thing, the food she makes actually tastes pretty good, even if it's sometimes odd (she cooks like a stoner, despite being perfectly sober. she is just Like That).

- Astarion: perfectly capable of cooking, and actually can cook quite well. food may not taste the same after becoming a vampire, but his enhanced sense of smell tells him nearly everything he needs to know about how to season and cook food properly. he doesn't cook because he doesn't like to (washing dishes? by hand? no fucking thank you, being undead is harsh enough on the nails and skin. finding a good lotion for normal undead dryness is already impossible)

- Lae'zel: in the modern world, if her life took her in a chef direction, she'd be in a Michelin star restaurant as the world's best and most terrifying sous chef. she absolutely would throw a knife at you for fucking up her plating (she'd intentionally miss. the first time). no nonsense is ever tolerated in her kitchen, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's got temper issues (her coldness and lack of tantrums is what makes her terrifying). she'd put Gordon Ramsay in his place for his rage theatrics and then make him weep with joy after serving him the most competent omelet he's ever had in his life. if she likes you, you may address her as "Yes, Chef!" outside of the kitchen.

- Karlach: uses 4 pots to make ramen. not because she's doing anything fancy or elaborate with it, the first pot was too small and started boiling over (whoops). the second one was, oh hold on, that's a cast iron pan, maybe you're not supposed to use that for boiling liquids, huh? wait shit, can't use this one either, i'm not supposed to use metal spoons on nonstick, don't want to scratch it. There we go! this one is the right size! and if i scratch this one, it's fine! wait, where the fuck did the flavor packet go (you should definitely be concerned about leaving her alone for the weekend)

- Wyll: very resourceful cook due to his Blade of the Frontier days. can improvise a meal out of damn near anything. can identify every edible plant and mushroom and tell you how to use it in a dish. would carry an herb garden in his adventure pack if he could. would absolutely thrive on the show Chopped (he's actually banned from auditioning again because it's not fair to the other competitors to have him on). he could make you a dessert featuring rattlesnake and fresh picked clover, and you don't know how or why, but you actually like it

- Gale: approaches the kitchen the same way he approaches most things in his life - academically. knows the proper safe temperature to cook meats/etc to, knows how to brown an onion, knows what seasonings are typically used together for certain flavor profiles and how to match seasonings to proteins. knife work sucks because he uses mage hand for mise en place and his mage hand has shitty DEX, but he's scared of his chef knife from the one time he sliced his thumb open (he was cutting an onion with improper hand placement and the knife slipped)

- Minsc: would exclusively eat by dumpster diving if it weren't for Boo's disapproval. eats like a human garbage disposal. he will eat a n y t h i n g that fits in his mouth, he is the least picky eater you will ever meet. does not understand how food challenges in the show Fear Factor are supposed to be challenges

- Halsin: world class forager. very competent hunter. prefers to eat everything as raw as possible. understands but doesn't believe in strict food safety because obviously stomach acid kills germs (and anyway, a little dirt here and there never killed anyone; exposure to germs is good for your immune system). open-mouthed kissing him is gambling with your health. makes the best vegetarian salads but do not trust any chicken he has "cooked". people with weak CON might want to consider avoiding his food

- Jaheira: uses Talk to Animals to Cinderella/Ratatouille rodents in the kitchen. she commands them like she's in perilous battle and the entire world is at stake (also rodents are worse to direct than cats, they do not know the difference between left and right. there's a lot of "No! Not that cupboard, the other one! NO, the OTHER other one! Flank him, he's off balance!"). making a cup of tea is a convoluted, stressful process that takes 10 times longer than just boiling the damn water yourself

if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Absolute Edition

[sunfyresrider]

♡My Dear, Don’t Ever Disappear | Neteyam S.

❦Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache and no clue where you are. It’s only after your cries for help your best friend appears. Except… it seems like he’s the reason for all of this.

❦Tags: Stalker!Neteyam - this man is actually crazy, muder🫢, porn w plot, dubcon/noncon, smutty af, kidnapping, pet names, biting, bondage, knifeplay, he loves you in a insane way. Word Count: 3k +

❦Author’s Note: NO PROOFREADING WE RAWDOG THIS! The voices got to me and I made this. Ooc Neteyam for mf sure but it’s just- ugh. My brain couldn’t stop thinking abt it<3

You woke up groggy, the first time you noticed was a severe ache in the back of your skull. What the hell happened? You opened your eyes to find you were not at home, nor in a hospital, you were in a cold concrete room. It had to be the old lab, a basement you hadn’t found yet. Well, that is unspeakably unsettling, you thought to yourself as your heart picked up its pace.

You winced as you tried to sit up, Your whole body was a dull throb, your arms stiff from their position. It took mere moments before you felt the cool touch of metal against your wrists, you tried to move away, but the sounds of chains clinking together gave away that they were keeping you on the floor. Panic slowly begun settling in the pits of your stomach, a looming sense of dread washing over you.

You were just going to work, walking out of base camp, and then nothing. Nothing at all. Trying to remember made your head pound, you didn't know what day it was, the fucking time, or if you were even in the same village. “Hello?”

Your voice echoed against the walls, the only response being the drip drop of water leaking through the walls, you were underground. That much you could tell. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light you noticed another presence, a figure standing at the door with their arms crossed.

“Boo.”

Your body jolted upwards, the chains pulling you back. You felt your blood go cold. They were tall, so tall you could hardly see all of them. You felt like the breath had been knocked out of your lungs, your mouth was dry and you could only stutter as he stepped forward. “No, no, no, no,” you mumbled to yourself, as he crouched down in front of you.

“Don’t fucking touch me! Somebody help! Help,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, the man didn't seem perturbed at all by your cries. “My Ewya, you’re loud,” he reached up, pulling the sloppily fashioned skull mask from his face. “Neteyam?!” You were baffled. Why was Neteyam here? This wasn’t some sick joke was it?

“Thank god you’re awake,” he sighed, his hand moving to push your hair out of your face. His fingers brushed against the gash on your forehead, causing you to wince. “I thought I hit your pretty little head too hard and put you in a coma.” His fingers trailed down the side of your face, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip, and you couldn't help but recoil. There was something different about him, he wasn't the same Neteyam that was so sweet to you.

“Neteyam what the fuck are you-” you were cut off by his voice, a crazed smile spreading across his face. “Surprise!” He yelled, throwing his hands up, he seemed ecstatic, and you had never felt more terrified. “I really wanted to do this differently, honestly, but it was so hard to get you alone.”

You could only stare, not wanting to say a word, the silence making your throat tighten. Neteyam looked down, his fingers tapping on his knees. You had never seen him like this before, his normal cheery and kind nature completely gone.“I-if Kyle finds out-”

Neteyam’s change in expression cut you off quickly, his eyes changing into something dark, his brow furrowing as his lip curled into a snarl. You swallowed thickly, not sure how to handle him, or the situation. “And what the fuck will a human named Kyle do to me? For Ewya’s sake I do not understand your obsession with this creature. He is weak, frail, short, pale skinned and so stupid.”

For just a moment you had a mere second to think and you were insulted on Kyle’s behalf. Yes, he wasn’t as tall as Neteyam or buff or particularly attractive but he was human. Neteyam huffed, his hand reaching up to pull your face towards him.

You were pulled back into reality as his fingers touched you, you were so pathetically helpless, chained to the ground, and at his mercy. His thumb rubbed along your cheek, and his eyes narrowed on yours. “It’s doesn’t matter now, yawne. I took care of him.”

Your blood ran cold, a sudden fear that he was speaking the truth, It made you want to vomit, a horrible pit forming in your stomach. But the way he said it, like he was proud of his actions, the look in his eyes as he stared down at you, it all made your heart drop. “You’re insane!”

“Only for you,” his smile reached both ears, a look that made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Your heart beat wildly in your chest, and your eyes started to water, your brain running a million miles a minute trying to come up with a solution, but nothing came. Neteyam leaned down, placing a kiss against your forehead.

It was… Oddly comforting, unnervingly soft. The way his lips felt against your skin was a stark contrast to his behavior, it was almost loving. “you’re so pretty when you cry, yawne,” his breath was hot on your skin, his voice soft, and it made your skin crawl.

“Fuck you, Neteyam.” You tried to turn away, but his grip tightened on your jaw, keeping you firmly in place, the chains digging into your wrists. You didn't want to look at him, and you certainly didn't want him looking at you. “You’ve read my mind, pretty.” You tried to squirm, and pull away, the chains biting into your skin and cutting into the delicate flesh. Your hands were numb from being locked in place, the muscles tensing and relaxing with the blood circulation.

“I really wish we could have done this in a nicer way… but you are so hardheaded. I was so nice, I did everything in the world to impress you... and not once did you notice me.” Neteyam unsheathed a blade you didn’t realize he was carrying, the metal glistening in the dim light. You felt tears well up in the corners of your eyes, the sight of it alone making your stomach flip, a knot forming deep within you.

The chains rattled as you squirmed, his grip tight on your chin. The metal slid across the delicate flesh of your jaw, it was cold to the touch and sent endless shivers down your spine. Neteyam traced his way down your neck, slowly running down your chest, stopping just before he reached your top. “I’ve dreamt of this for so long… of you, without these ugly human clothes, beneath me, whimpering and crying, of me, inside you... of you saying my name.”

A new feeling began creeping into your thoughts, it wasn't fear or panic, but something else entirely. His words, his voice, everything was too much, and it was beginning to make your head spin. Neteyam moved it slowly, slicing the fabric from the front of your chest, the knife easily cutting through the fabric of your blouse and bra. You didn't notice the cold air hitting the exposed skin, and all you could think of was his dagger as it trailed down your abdomen.

He let out a guttural growl as he stared down at you, his eyes transforming into something more animalistic. “You’re so perfect. I should have killed Kyle sooner…” Your core began to warm, a heat growing deep within your belly as his eyes roamed over your body, a new wave of shame and humiliation washing over you. This was turning you on, which was completely repulsive considering the situation.

Neteyam slid the knife along the inner part of your thigh, the sharp edge scraping against the supple skin, making you gasp. He took his time cutting the fabric, his movements precise, and careful, his gaze focused on the task at hand. Neteyam let out a sort of chuckle, pausing his movements as he gazed up at you, a curious look in his eye. “You like this don’t you?”

The next words came out as a stuttered, incoherent mess of denial. “N-no- you’re c-crazy! I hate you.” His blade sliced the thin string of fabric between your legs, cutting the material with ease. “Don’t lie to me, pet. I can smell you.” You bit your lip, not daring to make eye contact. The blade pressed against the inside of your thighs, dangerously close to your heat, and you felt your legs twitch.

You didn't understand this, the way the knife made your pulse race, the way his fingers danced across your skin made you burn. His hand moved slowly, the blade pressed against your skin, the metal cool against your warmth. You felt the knife drag, and you bit down harder on your lip, trying not to show any sort of reaction, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

Neteyam moved the knife upward, dragging the metal against your gaped lips, the smoothness of the blade making your core tighten. Your mind was swimming, unable to concentrate, the blade was pressing harder, the sharp point breaking the delicate skin. A drop of blood seeped through, and Neteyam's eyes seemed to glow, his mouth hung open slightly.

Neteyam dropped the blade, the clatter echoing through the small room, his lips reaching out to touch the wound, a small red spot where the knife had been pressed. If there was any blood, it was washed away as his tongue lashed out, cleaning the area with long, slow movements.

Your mouth opened slightly, and a small whine escaped. Neteyam chuckled into your mouth, his hand snaking up your body to grasp at your throat. You couldn't help but moan softly, as his grip tightened around your windpipe, constricting your airways.

“You’re an ass,” you hissed, his hand loosening. You had a feeling the knife had been a trick, the way he had played it up and teased, the way he had made you feel. It wasn't a true threat, and he knew it. “Oh, you don’t want to play nice anymore? He pulled the chains that binged your wrists to the wall, yanking you out of position with a yelp. Neteyam pulled you so your face was mere inches from his, “ I see you, pet. I can be meaner, hm?"

You realized in this moment how his strength truly outmatched yours, his arms easily forcing you onto the ground. You tried to pull away, the cold floor biting at the bare skin of your back. Neteyam leaned down, forcing his mouth onto yours,his tongue slipping past your lips and into your mouth. You couldn't help but let out a muffled groan, the taste of blood lingering on his tongue.

His hands groped at the bare skin of your hips, his touch sending waves of heat throughout your body. He kissed you with an urgency, like he was starving for it, his teeth tugging on your lip. The sensation made a low groan slip past your lips, and his lips curled into a wicked smile. Neteyam’s tongue slipped out of your mouth, moving down your neck, his sharp teeth nibbling at your skin.

You felt your body begin to react, your blood pulsing, your chest heaving with each labored breath. It was disgusting, and humiliating. You were completely under his control, and you could do nothing about it. You could only watch as his hands wandered, as he moved his tongue down the front of your chest, the feeling of his dangling braids tickling your flesh. And for some reason, not even ewya could explain, you were enjoying it.

His lips wrapped around one of your breasts, his hot tongue gliding over the flesh. You threw your head back, moaning softly, his tongue flicking over the sensitive tip, his teeth lightly nibbling at the sensitive skin. Neteyam let out a deep groan, his mouth closing over it. You were so absorbed in what his tongue was doing to you, you failed to notice his hand slipping between your thighs.

You let out a strangled moan, as his long fingers brushed against your dripping folds. Your eyes snapped open, the sensation was so foreign. He slid a finger inside, pumping it slowly, his thumb circling around the sensitive bud. It felt incredible, and you hated that, the pleasure washing over you.

You could hear Neteyam let out a chuckle, the sound vibrating through his lips. "Look how wet you are, pet." He began forcing in another finger, stretching you out and filling you with a burning heat. You felt your eyes roll back, letting out a soft mewl, the sound of him thrusting into you echoed through the room.

"M-more, please," you begged, his fingers moving faster, the feeling overwhelming, making you squirm. "Please, more," you panted, your pussy beginning to clench around his fingers. “Beg louder.” Neteyam's hand gripped tighter around your neck, his fingers forcing themselves deeper, stretching you.

You could feel a coil building up inside, the sensation was too much, and you were so close. “Splease, Sso good,” you slurred. Neteyam proded at the spongy spot inside you, making the coil tighten further, your walls starting to quiver around him. “P-please! Teyam please!”

Neteyam pulled his fingers out suddenly, your orgasm being cut off immediately. You let out a loud whine, a pitiful plea to keep going, his fingers leaving a trail of your own slick as they moved up. Then, he slapped you clean across the face.The sound echoed through the room, and you felt your whole body tense up. The force of the impact was surprising, and it was quickly followed by a painful stinging.

"You thought I was going to let you cum so easily? After the attitude you’ve had all night? No way, brat, I’m going to ruin you first." Neteyam was so calm, his voice so collected, it was almost unnerving. You were stunned, obscenely horny, and mildly terrified of the monster in front of you.

He sat back, admiring his handiwork. You were spread out, bound, and completely nude. Your eyes met his, and a dark laugh bubbled up in his throat. "you should see yourself," he cooed. “You look so pretty all disheveled for me.”

Neteyam leaned forward, his long, deft fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing you up, the chains chafing the delicate skin. His mouth connected with yours, the kiss more heated than the others, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip. You could feel his excitement through his loincloth, the heat radiating off of him, his length straining against the fabric.

The sudden shift in emotions made you dizzy, his touch becoming rough, and violent. Then twisting into slow and sensual, the way his tongue gilded against yours, the way his lips moved expertly against yours, the way his hands moved along your body. "I'm going to mark the fuck out of you so no man ever comes near you again.”

Neteyam grasped at your hips, proving his superior strength by flipping you over with ease. One of his large hands wrapped into your hair, the other pulling your ass up so you could feel him. He was undeniably huge, so thick, and in no way was he going to fit inside you. The sensation alone made you whimper, and it only got worse as he rubbed himself against you.

The sound of him unfastening his cloth, the jingling of his jewelry was enough to make your core tighten. His cock slipped between your folds, the head rubbing against your clit. Neteyam let out a low growl, the feeling of him making you shudder, his hands gripping the back of your neck.

Neteyam forced himself inside of you, the sudden intrusion making you scream out, and tears well up in the corners of your eyes. He was impossibly big, filling you entirely, stretching you. You let out a series of broken moans, as he slid out only to thrust back inside. Neteyam's free hand slid down your spine, his fingers gently caressing your back, before he slapped your ass.

“That’s it, baby. Keep screaming my name just like that.” Neteyam's voice was strained, the words coming out like a hiss. His grip tightened on the base of your neck, holding you firmly in place, while his hips pounded against you. The sounds of his body hitting yours echoed through the room, his cock stretching you with each thrust.

He wasn't going easy, "F-fuck me!” you cried out, as his cock grazed your g-spot. Neteyam dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his teeth leaving an imprint, his hands holding you down, his body flush against you.

The knot began to build once more, and Neteyam picked up his pace, fucking into you with reckless abandon. You moaned and whimpered, unable to stop the obscene noises that fell from your lips. His heavy panting sent chills down your spine.

Neteyam let out a deep, animalistic growl, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips, his teeth biting into your shoulder. "You feel so good around me, baby.” His cock throbbed inside you, his tip pounded at your cervix. You felt your pussy clamp around him, the feeling making Neteyam's hips jerk, and you let out a loud, pleasured wail.

You were so close, and the knot in your belly was tightening. “Please can I cum?!” You yelled out. Neteyam pulled himself from the warmth of your body, and you could hear his breathing turn ragged. “No no no, I have to see you.”

You didn't have to wait long, Neteyam flipped you onto your back, and his lips met yours. You felt his cock press against your folds, the head of him pushing past the entrance. His lips attached themselves to the side of your neck, his hands sliding up your chest to wrap around your throat.

Neteyam's hips met yours, his cock pounding inside you, “keep begging, yawne.” His long fingers moved to circle your clit, his thumb rolling the sensitive nub, making your eyes roll back. “Please, Neteyam,” you cried, “sgood, please can I cum!”

"Are you going to be a good little girl from now on?" Neteyam hissed, his fingers moving faster. You nodded, as you let out a low cry, "y-yes! P please, I’ll be good! You were on the verge of tears, your mind clouded. Neteyam let out a guttural groan, his pace picking up but his movements getting progressively sloppy.

Your legs began to shake, the knot was beginning to unravel. Neteyam's cock throbbed inside you, and you knew he was getting close too. "i-im gonna-" His fingers curled around your throat, stopping your sentence. “Cum on this dick like a good pet.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your body started to convulse, your muscles tensing, and then unraveling. Your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to thrash, and scream. You felt your pussy clench tightly around his length, the euphoria making your mind hazy. Neteyam's body trembled, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you. His seed filled you entirely, warming your belly, and dripping out onto your thighs as he pulled out slowly.

You were spent, too weak to move and too dazed to think straight. Time passed fast, the loss of his body heat lost in your head. You felt him shift beside you, his head dangling over yours as he peppered kisses onto your face. “You’re so pretty all fucked out…” he cooed, his hand gently rubbing your head.

You murmured something in reply, not fully hearing what he was saying. “I’m so happy you’re here with me, yawne.”Neteyam spoke, his voice soft. You heard his voice echo through the room, the words becoming jumbled as sleep overtook you. He continued petting your hair, watching you sleep peacefully. This was nice, harder than he expected, but it was nice.

“And you’re going to be here with me forever…”

My beloveds - @xylianasblog @strongheartneteyam @criticallybella

[baka-monarch]

Caught

Garden People Bench Trio au! :D

Trigger warning: getting burned on metal (idk what to call it-)

____________________________________________

Tommy sat on a rock at the edge of the koi pond, he kept his legs in the water kicking and splashing whenever the dark blue and white dewdrop would surface. It was a calm day so far, well, that and very hot and as a garden Tommy never really did well in heat which is why he chose to hang out with Ranboo today. He knew he could've gone into the human house with Tubbo, but he didn't really feel like growing a vine to get inside…. Actually, where was Tubbo? They usually came out to the garden by now-

A sudden splash cut off Tommy's thoughts. "If you're so hot then come into the water" Ranboo complained, only really his head poking out of the water.

"I'm not getting in that fucking death trap-" he glared down at his swimming freind. Gardens weren't really good at swimming, to the point that most would drown if they got into water, unlike dewdrops who were actually born in water. "Anyways- we're still waiting for Tubbo-" as if the name had summoned their third, Tubbo's hook suddenly appeared on the side of Tommy's rock, and soon after Tubbo was up too.

"Guys!!!" Tubbo yelled, his excitement evident on his face, even before he pulled his goggles off his golden face. "There's cinnamon rolls in the house!!"

"There's what?" Ranboo was quick to use some water to lift himself up and onto the rock with the two.

"Those weird pastry things the humans eat in the morning- right?" Tommy answered uncertainly.

"Exactly! And there's a whole tray just sitting on the counter!!" The Tinkerers exclaimed, bouncing from foot to foot with a boundless energy.

"Wait-" Tommy gasped. "Are we gonna- do you wanna-"

"Yes!"

"No, no we're not stealing them. We almost got caught last time we took food." Ranboo was quick to cut off the chaotic planning.

"Oh c'mon Boo, live a little- plus even if the humans do walk in we'll be fine" Tubbo smirked and summoned some electricity into his hands, the small bolts of lightning crackling in an endless static.

"Yeah big man, it's not like we're helpless" Tommy added, and to prove his point he made a little vine staircase off of the rock.

The dewdrop sighed. "Fine. But if one of you is caught I'm not saving you." As he started to climb down the vine he didn't see the two fist bumping behind him and quietly snickering. They knew Ranboo would never actually abandon them.

•••

It wasn't long before the trio was climbing some vines up to the window of the human house (courtesy of Tommy), the one that lead straight into the kitchen. Just as Tubbo had said, there was a metal tray filled with steaming cinnamon rolls just sitting unsupervised on the counter. All three of the kids' mouths started watering at the scent of freshly baked pastries.

"Now do you understand why we should take them?" Tubbo smirked up at Ranboo, noticing his wide hungry eyes.

"I'll admit… it smells really good…" Said dewdrop licked their lips as they looked at what had to be hundreds of huge sweets that no one was guarding.

"Let's dig in!!!!" Tommy shouted, and ran forward without thinking. He grabbed the edge of the tray to jump over the edge, but started screaming in pain as soon as he was touching it- and now he wished he hadn't already jumped as he crumpled into the hot tray, feeling the metal burning his white skin.

"TOMMY!!!!" Both Ranboo and Tubbo shouted at the same time as they ran forward to help him. Ranboo carefully reached over the edge of the tray to pick Tommy up since he was taller making them whimper and squirm since being touched hurt, and at the same time Tubbo tapped the edge a few times.

"Shit that's hot-" The tinkerer pulled his hand back. "It must've just come out of the oven…" Tubbo mumbled to himself while their tallest fretted over their burned friend.

"Tommy? Tommy, are you okay?" Ranboo gently held Tommy as he noticed their face twisted in pain and leaking tears.

"N- no I'm fuc- fucking not" Tommy rasped out, "I- I fe- feel like I'm on fire" he squirmed a bit, wanting to be put down, but Ranboo tightened his grip, knowing that Tommy wouldn't be able to walk like this.

"Let's get him to the pond to cool off" Ranboo nodded down at Tubbo as they spoke.

"Do you think you can handle it?" Ranboo asked Tommy who nodded weakly. Tommy's eyebrows knit together in concentration as he tried to make a vine to get out, but lost all power he had part of the way through and almost passed out.

"To- too hurt…" He explained. To do anything with plants Tommy had to concentrate, and right now all he could focus on was the burning all over his body.

"It's alright… Tubbo, do you have your hook?" Ranboo asked the shortest.

"Yeah but he can't climb down it like that-" He started to explain but cut himself off halfway through as he got an idea. Tubbo attached his hook to the counter's edge and started climbing down. "When I get to the bottom, tie the string around him and lower him down to me." He told Ranboo, and didn't wait for them to nod as he slid down.

Ranboo watched over the edge, and as soon as Tubbo let go of the string he pulled it up. The dewdrop waisted no time in tying the string around Tommy. "Tommy, try not to move, I'm going to lower you now but please please please, don't do something that might untie the knot" Tommy only gave a quiet hum to acknowledge he had heard. Ranboo took the answer and slowly started to lower Tommy down to Tubbo.

As bad luck would have it, it was at that moment that they heard the tell tale sound of loud booming footsteps approaching. Human footsteps.

"Hurry up!" Tubbo yelled up, while now nervously glancing to the door.

"I'm going I'm go-" He started to respond but cut himself off as he accidentally dropped the string and had to leap forward to grab it.

"..... What the…" A new voice came from the direction of the door. Both garden people paled, knowing what- or really- who it must be. Slowly Ranboo turned his head to look up and up and up, into the green eyes of one of the humans.

Tubbo was the first to start screaming, and Ranboo quickly joined, while Tommy just squirmed uncomfortably from his perch, the sound was very annoying.

"Woah woah woah, hey it's okay it's okay" The human lifted their hands in surrender and crouched down so they wouldn't be so tall. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Liar!" Tubbo yelled, and summoned some electricity making the human go wide eyed.

"I promise I'm telling the truth- please calm down-" The human said.

"Oh sure," Tubbo rolled his eyes. "we'll calm down and totally let you kidnap us." He stated sarcastically, still holding a ball of electrical charge.

"Look I'm sorry I startled you- can you please just put down the lightning?" They scooted back a bit, and Ranboo could see the slight fear in the humans eyes.

"Why? So you can grab us with your big meat hands?" Tubbo made the electrical ball larger.

"Wait Tubbo-" Ranby called down, hoping to at least deescalate the situation. "If he wanted to do that, wouldn't he have done it already?"

"Wha- but- Ranboo, you can't seriously be…" Tubbo started but looked up to see Ranboo's face and understood what thet meant. He got rid of the electricity, he could resummon it to tazer the human at any time anyways.

"Thank you…" the human let out a breath of relief. "Sooo…." They started but didn't continue- what were they supposed to say? 'Hey we thought tiny people lived here so you don't need to be scared?' No, that'd end horribly. "Need help?" They said instead, noticing the situation with the white one.

"No."

"Yes." Ranboo answered at the same time as Tubbo, which confused the human.

"Which is it…?"

"Yes, could you please help us." Ranboo was quick to respond before Tubbo could refuse. This may be a dumb idea- but they really needed to get Tommy to the pond quickly, or at least get an adult's help quickly. Ranboo didn't know what getting burned all over their body would do to Tommy, and if the human could get them out to the garden where they could get answers quicker, then he'd risk it.

"I assume you want me to get them down?" Ranboo nodded, and glanced down to see Tubbo had his arms crossed and was pouting. "Can I come closer?"

"...sure" Ranboo said hesitantly. "But please go once you're done." The human nodded, and slowly scooted closer. They were very gentle and careful, as they cupped their hands under Tommy and gently set him down next to Tubbo. As promised, the human backed away once done.

Ranboo waited a few minutes to make sure the human wouldn't come back over before he grabbed the string again and slid down to the floor next to Tubbo. The dewdrop picked up Tommy again, only getting a small squirm of protest from Tommy at the action. While Ranboo did that, Tubbo grabbed the string and pulled his hook down.

"Would you want some aloe vera?" The human's voice suddenly rang out in the silence.

"What th fuck is an aloe vera?" Tubbo had watched the humans and watched human tv several times before, but he had yet to hear of that human thing.

"It's a gel that uhm helps with burns" He explained, looking at Tommy a little worried.

"That'd be nice, thanks" Ranboo said, and got a mod in return before the human stood and left to get some.

"What are you doing!?" Tubbo asked Ranboo once they were gone.

"Letting them help us?" The dewdrop was a little confused about why Tubbo was mad.

"Yeah- but it could be an act! What if they're just waiting to catch us later-"

"Why would they do that?"

"Because that's what humans do!!! Well, unless I electricute them-"

"Tubbo don't- can't you tell they're actually helping? That they're actually worried?"

"Yeah, but humans lie-"

"If he really wanted to catch us, don't you think he would've done it, don't you think if he wanted to he would've just run away with Tommy in his hands." Tubbo went quiet for a long time as he mulled that over in his mind- even if he had electricuted them while they had Tommy, it would've hurt Tommy… and he knew humans were smart enough to know that Tubbo wouldn't risk hurting Tommy.

"Oh….."

"Here-" the human was finally back, carefully carrying a thimble. "I have it- uhm, how do you want me to give it to you?"

"Just put it down there, and we can get it." Ranboo smiled up at the human as they followed his instructions.

"Okay, well, be safe" The human gave an awkward small wave before leaving. Tubbo waited a few minutes to make sure they were gone before he walked over and grabbed the thimble that was full of a green goop that reminded him of Charlie.

"Let's get out of here before another one comes-" Ranboo nodded, and they both ran out of the human house carrying Tommy.

If later Tubbo found a cinnamon roll in front of one of his holes and took it to Tommy and Ranboo later, none of the adults had to know where he got it.

Mcyt g/t list:

@trashpumped @lorie-the-little-ghost @encaos @i-am-a-weeb @wyforyu-gaming @shy-septic-dragon @5unfl0writ3r @colorfulsiren @moonmwah @iwasgoingtohellanyways @echoslime @wilbur-simp @trouble-off-grid @lilsyxx @smogs-0

[aliceindiamonds]

Ghostface x Reader

“Boo!”

I opened my mouth to scream as the locker door flung open to reveal him. Ghostface. Standing there tall, and broad, and dark, like the shadow of a monster.

Not half a second later, his gloved hand clapped against my mouth to silence me. “Shhh, doll. It’s just me and you,” he waved absentmindedly behind him with his other hand. “The others are dead. No point wasting those pretty little screams…” I felt bile rise up in my throat, knowing the pain they must have gone through.

Seemingly spotting my change in demeanour, the Ghostface tilted his mask and examined me. “Oh, but I’ve upset you now. I’m sorry, baby. Would it make it better if I told you it was quick?” It must have been. We’d not been in the trial long. I hadn’t even been hit once.

Terrified, I breathed heavily and quickly through my nose, almost choked by his fingers and by the sickening, metallic smell of blood on his glove. The last time I had been alone with this man he had tortured me to death. My stomach lurched in anticipation.

He withdrew his hand from atop my mouth but didn’t step back, choosing instead to hang lazily into the locker. His mask drew closer, staring and spectral, and I pressed myself as far back as I could to gain some distance. “Have you missed me, doll?”

I didn’t answer, inhaling and exhaling shakily and quickly. This didn’t please him.

In a second, his knife was drawn. He plunged it into the back of the locker, directly at the side of my face- nicking the edge of my cheek.

I heard him exhale behind his mask. “Fuck, doll. I didn’t mean to hurt you. But it’s rude to ignore it when someone asks you a question.”

I gulped. The scrape on the edge of my face was thin and shallow, but a sparkling row of crimson droplets wept from it anyway. I was always a bleeder. Vaccination? Paper cut? Sliced my finger cutting vegetables? It was as if my body was over dramatic, responding in the extreme to any slight damage. “What do you want me to say?” I managed, shakily, forcing myself to look at the two black holes where his eyes were hidden.

“That’s a dangerous question,” Ghostface hummed, stepping back from the locker. “Come with me.” It might have been a command, but he gave me no chance to follow it. His arms reached around me and he lifted me over his shoulder, as if I weighed nothing. I didn’t try to struggle free. I had never been a fast runner.

I closed my eyes, feeling tears barely stay at bay. Killers were killers. I could handle murder now. I could handle these trials. It hurt and it horrified me but I knew the drill. This though? This left me in the dark. Total unknown. Ghostface frightened me like I’d never been frightened before.

What felt like minutes later, I was lowered, somewhat gently, onto a couch. I recognised where we were as the centre of the empty lodge in Ormond. The fire was crackling to the right of me but it didn’t fight the chill I felt when I looked at the man that had carried me here.

A moment later, I found a voice. “When are you going to kill me?”

Silence. Ghostface hovered over me, unblinking and threatening in his black attire and plastic mask. Then: “Soon, I think.”

I nodded, taking in the situation I was in. “I see. Well, can we get it over with?” I asked.

“Why?” Ghostface asked in response, and I frowned.

“Because I don’t want to be tortured?”

“But if it’s not me, it will only be someone else.”

“They just kill me- you do something else.”

“Oh, and what do I do, doll?”

“You take sick, weird pleasure in it.”

Ghostface laughed, I think. He leaned in close to me again, and used his thumb to lift his mask slightly. I saw his chin and jawline, sharp and square and manly, and then felt the wet heat of his tongue at my cheek. Licking the cut he’d given me earlier. The action made an obscene noise. I squeezed my legs together, mortified by the throb I felt below my abdomen.

Close to my ear, he clicked his tongue softly before whispering, “You’re right, I do take pleasure in it, baby. And I’ve taken a shine to you.” He withdrew, and dropped to his knees in front of where I sat. His mask was level with my face and I swallowed loudly, looking at the human features he’d revealed. “Want to see?” he asked, a smirk on his pink, full lips.

I didn’t nod, but he could surely see it in my eyes. I was curious. In response, he reached up as though about to push the mask up. At the last second, he stopped. “Too bad, beautiful.” He pulled the mask down, and with that the shutters closed, the hint of humanity I’d seen disappeared. “We’re just not there yet. And there are some other things I’d rather do first.”

I tried not to let my face betray the disappointment I felt, and looked at the floor. Seconds later, a soft whistle told me to look up, and Ghostface held his knife again. “Now, now. We’re gonna have a little fun.” In his black gloved hand, the knife descended, slowly and carefully to my chest. He stopped when the tip just barely grazed my flesh. “Make your pretty noises for me again, and I promise I’ll reward you, doll.” His other hand rested at my waist, and he stroked my clothed skin with seeming reverence.

With a slash, his silver hunting knife sliced a deep cut across the bare chest revealed by the top I had on. I gasped at the way it stung, fresh and sharp and agonising. The blood spilled almost instantly and began to pool between my breasts, staining the nude bra I wore. He didn’t stop there. Far from it. In fact, his carving was incessant- not too shallow, not too deep, quick, deliberate- as if he were creating a pattern across my flesh. I didn’t beg for mercy, but I felt the tempo of my breathing quicken and slow and slow and quicken and I whimpered softly, surely, melodiously. I let myself cry but didn’t sob. At the sound, the man behind the mask moaned roughly and leaned closer to me.

“You’re perfect,” he groaned as his knife penetrated, slowly, through the jeans I wore and into the thick flesh of my thigh. I felt the blade pierce my skin and delve deeper, deeper, hotter, searing, torturous pain. I cried out, biting my lip and squeezing my eyes shut. “Fuck, don’t close your eyes, look at me-” he twisted the knife until I looked at the black mesh covering his eyes.

With the knife still in my leg, I tried in vain to regulate my laboured breathing. In, out, in out, in out. Ghostface withdrew, settling between my legs on the floor. He leaned his head against the thigh he hadn’t run through before speaking. “Your blood is like something out of a movie, you know,” the man murmured, sultry and slow and dreamy. His breath felt hot against my leg, but that might have been my imagination. Surely my brain had no space to process any more sensation than the pain of being stabbed. “It just pours. Like wine. Shit, when I pull this knife out, you’ll probably go dizzy from blood loss. Fuck…”

“You’re sick.” I managed weakly, feeling pale and tired.

Laughter. Smooth, sexy, sultry laughter. “I’m Danny, actually.” He grabbed the hilt of the knife and ripped it unforgivingly from my flesh.

[a-dorin]

hold my hand | the mandalorian

word count: 1,349

warnings: ummm.. none, some angst. cursing. mando shirtless? (if that even counts lmao) 

summary: one night, din comes back to the razor crest, blood dripping from a wound. you offer to fix him up, where suppressed feelings come to light. 

“oh my god,” you widened your eyes, your breath hitching in your throat as din limped onto the razorcrest, blood splattering as he took a step. 

“it’s not anything serious,” the mandalorian shrugged, beskar gleaming in the moonlight.

“you’re bleeding all over the floor of your ship and it’s not serious?” you deadpanned, narrowing your eyes. 

“(y/n),” din exhaled, shaking his head, “can you please just shut the fuck up? for one second? i’ve already dealt with enough bullshit today, i don’t need you breathing down my neck too.”

you widened your eyes, biting your tongue. the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. you coughed, “i’m sorry, i’m just worried about your health.”

din huffed, “are you worried about my health or me?”

both, the answer rang though your head, but never left your lips. desperately, you yearned to confess your feelings for din. however, you knew you couldn’t. it just wouldn’t work. your relationship with the stoic bounty hunter was built on the foundation of companionship. 

you were a home medic in a backwater town on a desolate planet. when the mandalorian appeared one fateful night, his armor shining as if he was a knight. he was in search of his next bounty, his tracker fob glowing red. he visited the local bazaar, for a food and supply run. your first meeting was there, as din visited your post for medical supplies. din peaked your interest, his mysterious aura enticing.

also, the mandalorian had the cutest child with him. it was a small creature, his large ears flopping, his skin a green hue. his eyes were large black pools, taking in all the sights before him. he had a liking towards you, his tiny arms reaching out as din negotiated with you. you remembered smirking as you exchanged your final deal with din, stating he could have all of your medical supplies if he allowed you to travel with him on his ship. 

din reluctantly agreed. besides, cara was on nevarro, so he figured he could use a companion. besides, you were intelligent, well versed in the field of medicine. with din’s constant injuries, you would be useful. 

yet, you were hopelessly in love with the bounty hunter. with his work, you knew he wasn’t capable of love. din rarely expressed his emotions, rarely at all. he was a ruthless killer, protecting the child and you at all costs. the foundling was important, but you were too. you were his valued medic, the one who could heal him no matter how critical his injuries got. 

“how about you lay on the table,” you remarked, “so i can inspect your injuries.”

“is the child asleep?” din inquired, his tone grim. you knew that din never liked when the child saw him injured, as it was quite frightening. 

you nodded slightly, “yes, i put him to bed a couple hours ago.”

din let out another sigh, grimacing as he laid on the padded table, blood sleeping from his shoulder. you approached him, suture tools beside you. gently, you used scissors to cut the fabric of his tunic, his chest plate lying on the floor. the ship was quiet, neither of you uttering a single word. 

next came the cleaning. you placed an antibiotic on his wound, din hissing as you swished the cloth on his skin, wiping away the blood painting his skin. your cheeks were tinged pink as his muscles rippled under his skin. never had you gotten this close with din. typically, his clothes stayed on. 

“are you all right?” your voice was quiet, “i’m about to stitch you up. it’s going to hurt.” 

“i’ll be fine,” din protested, his voice strained. 

“you can hold my hand if you want,” you suggested, teasing him slightly. 

your question took din aback, shock filling him to the brim, “c-can i?”

din was craving human touch. god, it had been so long since his chest was warm, the cozy feeling spreading throughout his body. he longed to feel your fingers laced with his, your lips pressing against his skin. to him, you were everything. his whole world. the woman he wouldn’t hesitate to protect until his dying breath. the mandalorian loved you. and you had no idea. 

“of course,” reaching over his top half, you took his hand into yours, your fingers lacing with his. 

with one hand, you expertly stitched up din’s wound, a deep gash on his shoulder, near his collarbone. din let out another hiss of pain, squeezing your hand so tightly his knuckles turned white. 

“are you almost done?” din pleaded, his face twisted in pain behind his helmet. 

“i promise.” only a few more more stitches left. 

upon wrapping up, you placed the needle and thread with your tools, turning to din. without warning, you placed a gentle kiss near the wound, the action sending a shiver down his spine. 

“there,” you beamed, “a kiss for you boo-boo.” 

“(y/n),” the way din almost moaned your name sent excitement flooding throughout your body, your mind buzzing. 

“yes?” arching a brow, you intertwined your fingers with din’s once more, this time, tenderly. 

a hand wrapped around the back of your neck, bringing you face to face with din, your forehead resting on the cool beskar, “i-i love you.”

joy flooded through your thoughts, your heart skipping a beat. an intense blush filled your cheeks, yours cheeks a deep shade of red, “i love you too, din.”

din pulled you into his embrace, his heartbeat a comforting sound as you rested your head on his chest, as the two of you laid on the table, “can you take off your helmet, just once?”

“you know i can’t,” his sigh filled your ears, “this is the way.”

“can i see the face of the man i love? just once?” you pleaded, a pout forming on your lips. 

“i know a way,” din whispered, “a loophole.”

without warning, din reached to the table, wrapping the clean portion of his tunic around your head, covering your eyes. the sound of metal clanging against the floor filled your ears, your heart thudding as you waited for din’s next move. he took your wrist, placing it on his cheek. you ran your fingertips along his face, feeling stubble on his chin, his jawline strong. your heart fluttered once they brushed his soft lips, din kissing them tenderly. 

you didn’t have to see his face to know din was handsome. you could just tell by his features, from his soft lips to full lashes. the fact that din was allowing this intimacy with you made your heart swell. 

din chuckled as your fingers laced into his hair, “what do you think? am i ugly?”

“no,” your response was immediate, “i don’t have to see your face to know that you’re the most handsome man in the galaxy, din djarin. i fell in love with you, not your looks.” 

din’s lips met yours, kissing you passionately. you reciprocated, allowing him to suck on your bottom lip as his tongue slipped into your mouth. your fingers reached into his locks, tugging slightly. a hand slid down your back, the other cupping your cheek. a quiet moan escaped your lips, din pulling you closer to his body. 

you felt him pull away, his breathing ragged, “i promise you one day you’ll see me, my love.”

“i’ll wait until the end of time, if that’s what it takes,” you murmured against his lips, the fabric still covering your eyes. 

for the second time that night, din leaned in for another kiss, his mind running rampant as he yearned to touch you. to feel your heated skin against his. skin on skin. soon though, he could. 

the mandalorian was filled to the brim with joy as you laid in his arms that night, sleeping soundly. finally you were his. and he would protect you until his last breath, as long as you were safe. 

but for now, you were in treasured place. when you were in the arms of din, that’s where you felt the most safe. 

[antigonick]

Charge.

CONTEXT : I’m not saying 90% of my life is spent babbling about Fallen Hero but you really should check it out.  DISCLAIMER : Not much is mine except for a few shot-in-the-dark head-canons, and everything else belongs to Malin Rydén. WHAT TO EXPECT : Erratic punctuation & coarse language. Mild spoilers. Everybody is halfwitted and loves thinking in italics. Also, I was going to be a cool cat and limit myself to a little bit of fighting, a little bit of thinking, but then BAM this got chargestepped and sappy and out of hands real fast. I have no excuse. 

2010.

First the fist collides with your jaw then you grin.

Duck turn kick (miss) kick (hit) and shift. Shark skin is rough like sandpaper and wet and unyielding, but you track the soft and the weak: eyes squinting in the heat and the supple maw you might be able to break and the snout curved like an arrowhead and that human body, ready to bleed, ready to sizzle, following you between the cars. High up, the press is circling vulture-like; from your little dotted audience you feel the smiles and the gasps and the screams and the sighs skittering in your veins like water boiling. 

It’s been going on a while and you’re hot (more than usual, that is), you ache, the taste of blood goes straight to your head. Shit that’s good. Tap hiss tap dance your heels on the asphalt and in the huge windows of the building from the corner of your eye you can see you. Behind the sweltering quivering heat of summer. Facing the ugly misshapen silhouette of Sharkinator.

You. You in cobalt blue. 

You, turn duck kick (hit) slide punch (miss) run! stop dodge laugh. 

‘Come on, Jaws, show some teeth!’ you taunt and won’t that make a great headline?

In the glass windows the waltz is dizzying, you spy; and Sharkinator snaps at you and you keep eyeing those gills that slice his huge head where it meets his shoulders; because why are they here, because it’s not like they’re any use, it’s not like he’s breathing underwater, so what does he do with those, and you think, what if, what if I spark these up a little?

The fish-man is stewing, whack tap and thump goes his knee against your stomach, a strangled chuckle (from you) and a snarl (from him):

’Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Marshal!’

Uh-oh, nice, so we’re really doing this, hm, we’re going for teeth puns? But you can’t hear your own laughter—you keep eyeing those gills—because the crackling breaks and swells in your ears—you flex your fingers (already itching) (what if, what if I spark these up a little?) and you’re ready when he lunges—parry spin and 

CONNECT.

You’re not ready, though. For what happens next.

You’re not ready for the water.

You don’t get it, you don’t see it, you can’t see it, you don’t think that’s even possible, what in the actual fuck? Fine, fine, keep moving, can’t stop won’t stop, no, wait, it floods you like a dirty leak floods a crumbling basement; cold and murky and popping until something cracks, something breaks, something short-circuits in your head (are your eyes closed?) or in your back and you would laugh, you would, but there’s a moment there when you can’t feel your legs and the whiplash is enough to make you gag in sheer fucking horror.

Though you don’t. You don’t know where you are. Your head is swimming. (Get it? Swimming?)

Fall (on your knees) groan moan

(Is it crackling and bubbling you hear?)

dodge roll (yes) exhale and stand up stanD UP STAND—

‘—UP, STAND UP you fucking idiot!’

‘What… Una?’

‘Sure, yeah, say my name in public why don’t you, and next time maybe tag my phone number on a building while you’re at it?’

‘I mean, I don’t have your…’

‘Shut up and move!’

You glimpse the prone writhing body of Sharkinator but she’s going fast and the sirens howl and with an arm across her shoulders you turn, veer, ugh, you hit a wall or four, stumble, huff, and under your weight she’s seething; you can hear her sharp little muffled voice through the crepitating haze, you just couldn’t wait to show-off you absolute dumbass, you just couldn’t, ready to fry right there on the sidewalk, I can’t believe this shit and also do you think my life-purpose is to save your ass?

It’s a fine ass, you want to say, but your lips feel numb and your shoulder hits the fire escape with a clang (where are you?) and the glare of the day is needling at your brain so you let your head fall a little, on her smooth masked head, just a second, Una, can’t stop won’t stop you know me, just a second and then we—

‘Oh fuck no Ricardo, don’t you dare—’

You definitely dared.

You wake up propped against the brown backrest of your own sofa, eyelids orange, yellow, white, and burning. You can feel her, gloves off, fiddling with your ports. The almost silence, just her breathing and the clinking of metal against metal, a screwdriver? Then, the tentative stirring humming of power under your flesh. The golden smell of coffee somewhere, somewhere close. You flex your hand and she slaps it impatiently, sighs, moves (creak) and comes back. Suddenly there’s a soft, damp, cool cloth against your cheek, hmmm, yes, though—wait—

‘What the hell?!’ you recoil up the backrest, face stinging, ‘is that bleach?’

‘Boo-hoo, don’t be such a baby, you’re too old for that,’ she tosses the soaked towel on the armrest (that’ll stain), smirking her bunny teeth smirk with a glee that’s nothing short of vicious. 

Mask rolled up to the tip of her nose, she flops down on the coffee table one knee up and closes her small white hand scarred and rough around your smiling winking face—well, not yours, but the one printed on the Charge™ mug. 

‘You’re merciless.’

‘Narcissistic much?’ she comments, tipping the mug. 

Here you are, lovingly painted, with tapered waist and rich blue suit and stylised thunderbolts around your head like some kind of storm-born saint.

‘It was… a gift.’

‘From yourself to yourself? I don’t care, I’m keeping it.’

‘Want to build a little Ricardo altar in your room?’

‘I will throttle you in your sleep.’

‘Please don’t wait for me to sleep.’

She might win at elbowing you in the face, but she can’t win at banter, so she snorts and huffs and shrugs, then walks away. You hear her swear low in the kitchen. You wonder if she blushes; her suit comes up to her chin and the mask comes down to her nose and the large turquoise ovals hide her eyes but she has freckles on her hands and a pale mouth that speak of light hair and sunburns. Not that it matters, but the suspense is killing you, right? It’s been killing you for years and it itches like a scab, this not-knowing, this not-seeing, this inch-by-inch, this one wall you can’t skirt jump wreck.

The cold bottle of beer falls in your lap and she sits back on her chipmunk perch one knee up. She snaps her fingers at you.

‘Just put the towel on your face, idiot, you’re still bleeding.’

You open the bottle and the cold brew hits your throat just right, bubbles and fresh bitterness like a jolt to the mind. You still feel hazy and lukewarm, you need hot-wiring.

‘That’s not how human medical care works, you know.’

You think she glares, can’t be sure with those turquoise fly eyes, but she gives you the finger too so there’s a fair chance.

‘Fine, yeah, but also, I’m not your fucking nurse.’

‘You are merciless.’

‘I am. And heartless. That’s my secret. That’s why I keep the mask on.’

‘Robot?’

‘Android. Come to wreak havoc on humanity and take the Rangers out, one by one,’ she deadpans.

Is she fucking with you? 

Of course—still, your heart throbs in delight and your blood bubbles and something drops low in your stomach like jumping from a cliff (no no no don’t think about that) and you can see it in your mind, Una, teeth bared, knuckles white, eyes afire (blue eyes brown eyes grey eyes?), the scheming first, then the bite, the kill; she’s got the guts and the moves and the rabid wrathful kick. She could do it. Well: she could try.

You can, you can see it, the bite the kill—the kiss of death. 

Better not say that crap in front of Chen. He already thinks she’s a double-agent on the loose and you have to weave in and out of this conversation like an eel, laughing brightly, saying come on, come on man, she’s too soft, you’ve seen her coo at dogs when she thinks nobody’s looking.

You swallow the beer and throw her a brilliant smile and lean all the way, arm outstretched to the fruit basket behind her but she thinks you’re—oh—she slides to the side with a sharp jerk; innocently you grab an apricot though you almost laugh when she hisses.

‘Oh yes, the remake would be legendary,’ you purr, mostly to see if she’ll rip your eyes out. ‘You. Me. Los Diablos 2019. I can see it. Babe Runner.’

‘I can’t believe someone made you Marshal. Who the fuck did you bribe?’

‘Don’t be mean, you’re the babe in this scenario.’

You sink into the sofa, stretched out and muscles sore, and when you bite into the apricot with a smile the flesh splits on your tongue like a burst of sunlight. 

She stares. 

She gets up.

She rolls down her mask.

She does blush, doesn’t she?

Looks like you’ve won this round.

‘I’m leaving and you should get some sleep,’ she snaps cradling that mug empty of coffee and full of you. Her mouth is set and her gait is harsh despite your chuckle, but when she walks close there’s a second, a second soft and warm when her naked fingers skim your forehead petal-like but you’re an idiot so you reach to grasp her hand and she punishes you by smacking your head instead.

2021.

First the static sizzles against your eardrum and then you grin.

‘You’re in,’ says Deadeye and nothing else since.

The place’s been on your list for years, but this time it’s going to work, this time you’ve put a wire in its gut, this time you’ve heard it plainly from Manolo himself—she wants to meet them at the Cellar Bar. Hollow Ground. A face for the systemic chaos.

It’s been days but every time you tune in you get this shiver this quiver the urge to pace the urge to laugh the urge to dance no that’s not it—the urge to strike. You’ve turned off your own microphone so that you can tap tap tap throw the ball against the wall, twack whoosh open the beer bottle, click click click shake the painkiller box, crack hmm make your back pop. Better to keep your distance anyway, technology doesn’t like you much. You turn and turn in the little room, you open the dirty glass door and you crouch on the rickety balcony with the long-ranging binoculars, you fiddle and check the monitor and throw your hearing as far as it can go, which is much further than it once could, strain and strain and you write down the names, the places, you hedge your bets, you come at night, you doze and bite your arm, you sigh and stretch and skip, pins and needles under your skin and ants swarming inside your skull, and then

Then, one day.

You catch it.  

‘They’ll be here tomorrow night, her and Nocturne. Make sure everything is ready. Dampeners on.’

‘Seriously? Candlelit dinner with a telepath? Didn’t even know those were still a thing.’

Fuck yes fuck yes. You throw the ball hard against the stone floor and watch the current twitching between your fingers nervous and restless like your brain. You wait a while. You need sleep, you need gear, you dig the heels of your crackling hands against your eyelids and the pain simmers low like a headache. Shit that’s good.

Turn on your heel grab your bag breathe in get out.

Parkfield at night is full of scumbags with impeccable taste in shirts and suits, and if you ever get your  fists on one you’ll have to ask them for their tailor’s number. You can’t compete today, wearing a hoodie stolen from Chen, but still you glimpse you in the shop windows, shoulders stooped, hands hidden, head hung low, and you smirk slow in the shadows. Tonight you see her. Tonight you see Hollow Ground. Tonight the veil falls the light comes the hunt starts or—whatever else they say when an epiphany hits you in the face with a baseball bat.

You press your index to your ear and stop not far from the Cellar Bar, too close for comfort, close enough to get that small delighted shudder of adrenaline along your spine. And then you wait.

You’ve gotten better at that.

Wait listen track.

Grind your teeth shut your mouth bide your time.

You get your money's worth tonight: wait listen track and 

hold your breath—hold… hold… hold on.

The voice you hear buries itself in that soft place beneath your ribs where a blade comes to kill.

‘I'm here for a meeting. I was told to wait at the downstairs bar,’ says the sharp little unmuffled voice.

Really you shouldn’t you shouldn’t be surprised but fuck, tonight? and all the same your blood rushes and pounds and you catch your gasp right before it burns your mouth and sssssssss hums a tremor from your bones to your flesh.

To Deadeye, but in your ear, Una asks:

’Aren’t you coming?’ 

You almost laugh. Dirty talking on the job now, are we?

Tempting really, but first you have to checkmate that filthy little liar and also, fuck, make sure she doesn’t get herself killed, and also, fuck again, make sure she doesn’t get herself hollow-grounded, and also, fuck! Shit, shit, shit. What the hell are you doing? What the hell is she doing? Where the fuck are you going? You sizzling crackling flashing and the audio goes dead and your mind races and splits like lightning. 

Can’t wait can’t stop won’t stop.

It takes everything you have not to break into a run, but then again you couldn’t get inside even if you wanted to, and you tell yourself, she knows what she’s doing, you’ve seen it, Chen’s seen it, you’ve exchanged glances—the querulous stance, the fading bruises, the hard muscle under those ridiculous layers. Seen it felt it. 

You find the grimy back alley and you grit your teeth. The one-way back door is condemned by a huge dumpster. You raise your gaze to the darkened windows, to the flickering streets and all those strangers who couldn’t care less about what you’re doing, hidden that you are by hood and night. Fuck this. Turn rush push. The dumpster whines on its wheels but yields to your hand and releases the door (just in case) and you dance back as fast as you’ve come; turn the corner, and now torture, walk the street once, twice, thrice, tap tap taping your fingers against your thigh.

Two hours days centuries minutes.

Two three four ten twenty.

You walk further and further to cover you tracks. In the shadows you lay your forehead against a coarse wall for a second. Twist, go back. Weave through the streets. Could use a drink, could use a jump, could use a fall. Could use a fight. Could fight Una. You think of that mask all those years ago, that mask rolled to the tip of her nose, and the grave (shit no), and all the masks that came and went, and all the masks that you both still have to peel off, you think of that mirror helmet of… hers? Of course it’s hers. Well, at least you can see yourself in it, and she knows how much you like that.

Suddenly you jolt and you hear, you hear it: the running steps, the scrape of the metal back door, the low swearing, the faraway shouts and the racing on the asphalt and then she hits you square in the chest like the bullet she is.

You exhale a groan and steady her with a hand but she jerks away and she’s ready to split but then her eyes register you and for a second you see it like you saw it in that coffeeshop when she came back from the dead, the deer in the headlights, the panic flaring, the dark twist of her mouth ready to bite. 

So what can you do? Smile, sigh. Laugh. 

‘Fancy seeing you here, lover.’

She’s breathing fast and blinks, fists clenched. She must be really upset, ‘cause you wouldn’t have survived that nickname otherwise. You take her in; the hair mussed, the throat working, the shitty flannel shirt on a large t-shirt. Did she meet and greet the queen of down below dressed like a depressed teenager? Fuck she’s an idiot and irresistible. She’s on the balls of her feet and she’ll punch you soon but you see the soft and the weak, her arm slightly bent, her cut lip, the surprise that you could use to take her out. Then suddenly she barks (attack first think later):

‘I’m working, Ricardo. Are you following me?’

Is she? Is she working? Working for the bane of your damn existence? Tonight the teasing doesn’t flow easy.

‘Working. You’re working.’

‘Working, yeah.’

She’s fucking with you but that’s only fair; after all, you are fucking with her.

‘Shit,’ you say, duly concerned. ‘That boss of yours is running you into the ground.’

She pauses, eyes fixed on yours, warm and dark and wavering. She’s not gonna fall for it. She’s not. She oh, she is. Sharply she turns her head and she sinks all at once, hook and sinker she swallows the lie, ravenous ravenous for half-truths she is.

‘Yeah, she’s a jerk. Listen, I have to go.’

‘Aren’t you going to slap me goodbye?’

‘You’re as disturbed as you are ridiculous.’

‘Whatever you want me to be,’ you tease, but your heart is in your throat.

She snorts and sidesteps you (get it?), ready to disappear, but when she walks close there’s a second, a second soft and warm when your thumb comes and wipes the blood off her mouth, and she’s an idiot so she reaches to grasp your hand and rewards you by kissing your palm instead.

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Break the chains' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"Break the chains"

Chapter Summary : Yirina was unfortunately captured by Duvall's men and could finally met the man in person but she can count on something.....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3600

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

We maybe saved Alvarez but at what price ? That mission weren't supposed to happen as we didn't have enough intels about the place and the fact that it was very unexpected. We all thought that we were going to finally rest in our beds after making Derazio fly down off his penthouse but instead, we had to run off to save Alvarez as he wanted to flee the country and that what we did.....until the tide has turned in Duvall's men favor that came in great number by surprise and we needed to run away from this place....too late for me.

I was covering Wolf's escape before the burning pole fall just behind, avoiding me to join the others and then, I was knocked down by behind and dragged away from that place by those men as the others has maybe escaped with no choices. I can't blame them....I can only blame myself for it....I should have been faster to run away instead of staying like an idiot behind that cover. Now, those guys is going to either kill me away and bringing me to Duvall himself and to be frankly, these people.....they're acting pretty strange with their white hoods.....who are these people ?

The muffled sounds of cheerings start to slowly make me regain consciousness of the situation around me as I opened my eyes, my vision all troubled because of that hit I received in the back of my head. It was still hurting and feeling very dizzy as my vision was recovering and I could feel my hands tied up in metal chains, raised up, my back against a brick wall, sit on a sort of podium and then, I could start to see people....dressed in white robes & hoods in front of the podium, cheering, their fists in the air. It was looking in a lost place in the Bayou but I can't tell where exactly.

I couldn't believe it as I thought that I was trapped in a kind of stupid joke until I realized that those men weren't kidding at all. I looked up to see a man dressed this time in a fully red robes & a red hood too, must be their leader....and then, I realized that it was Duvall in person as I heard his muffled voice behind his stupid hood. There were an guard next to him and I could see him talk to Duvall as he just saw me, waking up.

"The sinner has awakened !" I could hear Duvall shout to the masked crowd who started to make some cheers for him and booing at me before Duvall faced me.

"Already dressed up for an costume party ?" I start to joke around at him, seeing all these persons in robes before the guard that was near him decided to throw me an punch in the jaw, not even breaking it or making any harm on it. "Is this everything you got ?" I added again and he wanted to continue until Duvall put his arm in front of him.

"Don't...." He said, looking at him. "She will soon understand our fight, white brother." The guard looked away in shame as seen throught his hood before he walk away to get back at its former position, leaving only me with Duvall. "So, you decide to interfere in my little plan." He decide to remove his hood to reveal to me his face that I already know before I spit on his face.

"Take it as a yes, Duvall !" I smirked, trying to keep cool and calm as I am chained and in real danger with those mens. He wasn't looking angry at all.

"So uncivilized." He cleaned up the mess I made on his face. "You, the Europeans....are very disturbing, I can say." He added as he start to slowly move to get closer to me. "Throwing my lieutenant from his hotel, helping this goddamn Cuban out of that burning place but now, you're here...at my mercy."

"At first, was it a compliment ?" I asked to him, he shook his head....of course....."And second, fuck you !" I breathed before he decided to pull out an knife from his robes. "What are you doing ?" I said mixed between been scared and angriness.

"Hold her off, I'm going to mark her." He ordered to his former guard and another one and they both complied. I tried to move quickly but they were more faster, blocking my legs to do anything as Duvall was removing a part of my small-bloodied shirt, getting the knife above where was my heart. "The mark of the sinner !" He exclaimed before he start to make a cross with the knife on my skin.

I wanted to scream very loudly because of the pain but one of his henchman was covering my mouth. The worst of it is that Duvall was making it very slowly while I was enduring the pain with all my strengh before Duvall finally gestured to his men to move away, letting me free in a way. I looked at my chest, seeing now a bloodied cross on it...above my heart, he didn't put the knife deep enough to hit my heart, he just wanted....to mark me....

"You're fucking crazy !" I yelled at his face, realizing that this man is in the same level of Perseus himself. "Looking like an second Perseus !" My words make him move to grab my chin hardly with his hands, looking very angry.

"Perseus ?" He whispered at me. "This damn russian can go fuck himself with his little friends that were around me." He added, apparently still angered by Perseus decision to stop giving weapons. "He want me to lay low and to not move but he can't understand how my world is working and what my ambitions once I'll get Reagan out."

"That was this all about, right ?" I asking, starting to guess his real ambitions. "The guns were going to be used in a little coup d'état against Washington and you will be the new president." I breathed, rolling my eyes & thinking about it. "If you can't win legally, let's do it by force." I raised an eyebrow to him, awaiting, fighting inside of me the pain from the wound.

"That's right, Reagan is convinced that we need to help the free world but does he think about the americans first ?" He asked and I couldn't respond it....I'm not american and not an expert on the US politics.

"Even if you do this, you will still stay the perfect Perseus american puppet." I affirmed and he seemed annoyed by me and my thoughts about it.

"Maybe even if I despited them because they're not americans but at least, I will have achieve my goal." He snorted as he decided to get up, still facing me. "'Stitch' is gonna soon have his plan set in motions and you can't stop us." 'Stitch'.....the 'DOUCHEBAG' that was on that file about Greenlight in my memories....the brother of that Sonya that has 'plans in motion'....shit...Duvall then put his hood on him, giving to me a last look. "If you please, my men will want to hear a speech from me." He then turned around to face the crowd.

I couldn't listen to his little speech as I was already annoyed by him before and I'm not intending to be like this again but then, from afar, I could see a Duvall's henchman that was protecting some sort of ruins, getting suddenly disappear in it, apparently neutralized.....the cavalry has arrived, Yiri !.....I could finally hope more as I was seeing a little white light coming far in front of me....the scope of a sniper rifle....Wolf.....they found me.....They are my guardians angels !

"Hey, Duvall !" I called him out, causing him to look at me, breaking him off his speech. "You believe in guardians angels ?" I asked but he didn't responded as he looked back to the crowd....to be immediately greeted by an bullet right in the head by Wolf and then, it was the beginning of the panick for Duvall's men.

"They have killed the 'messiah' !" A man shouted inside the crowd...damn, those peoples are fucking weird.

The guards that was near Duvall move near his dead body as multiples gunshots start to be heard all around the place and finally, another shot from Wolf hit right the chains I was tied up to, allowing me to break free and getting up to start strangle the guard who punched me with the chains that was still on my left hand. His buddy tried to react at me and to counter him, I decided to use the guard I was strangling as an human shield, taking all the mag this guy just shot.

As he was trying to reload, I quickly took the dead guard SMG and shot a simple bullet right in the head, disposing of him. All of that while I was fighting the pain on my chest because of Duvall. Everyone were fighting in the direction of the place entrance but some of Duvall's remaining men saw me getting freed and start to focus on me instead of the fight at the entrance. I moved to get out of the podium and to cover behind of it as the first bullets came into my direction.

I couldn't risk to waste bullets as I just had a simple SMG with only one mag and for that, I had to pick my targets precisely. I started to shoot just after I got to cover, killing an guy that tried to rush me with an knife, taking 6 bullets in him. Two others were gone as they were out of their cover, taking each one 8 bullets as they were afar and the last one I shot at before the mag ran out of bullet.....I missed him close enough and now, I didn't have any bullet left.

This same guy was running to rush me like the first one did and to neutralize him, I decided to use the SMG I had like an hand-to-hand tool, holding it by the cannon. I start to get myself ready to strike as he arrived but then, as I was launching myself to do that, he prevented that to happen by kicking my arm with his feet before he arrived next to me and threw me away from my cover. When I looked at him, I realized that.....

"Park ?" I whispered, finding out that it was her and not the last guy who came to get me.

"Yiri ?" She looked at me, confused & worried, she didn't know that it was me behind that cover and then, she quickly moved to hug me "Yiri !" She said, relieved, her arms around me before I could feel my chest in pain.

"Ouch..." I breathed, feeling herself against my wound.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry." She removed herself to help me getting up "You're hurt ?" She asked, fully standing up on my feets, I nodded.

"That bastard make me a mark on my chest." I replied, showing her the part of the chest where the blood was still going out but less than before. "Apart of that, my right arm is also hurting me." I added as she didn't almost go easy on my arm when she striked me.

"Fuck...." She said, putting her hand next to the wound, worried about it.

"It's okay, not deep enough & no much blood off it." I exclaimed trying to reassure her as she was nearly going into panic. "Thanks....thanks for the save, how did you know I was there ?" I asked, wondering how they were fast enought to get me back.

"Before your radio goes off, the people that took you inadvertently gave away the location they were going to bring you." She replied, getting next to me as we decided to slowly walk back in front of podium. "Sims decided to bring Alvarez to another CIA safehouse while me & Wolf.....we called for reinforcements before coming in here." She added as I could see a little group of soldiers, checking the dead bodies on the ground as another one was guarding the few remaining Duvall's men.

"Who are these guys ?" I looked at those dead bodies, all wearing white hoods now bloodied.

"These douchebags...." It was Wolf arriving to get to us, his sniper rifle in hand, having heard my question. "They were an part of the fucking Ku Klux Klan." He then looked at Duvall's body on the podium "And that prick were the leader of them in the New Orleans."

"White supremacists dickheads that want to 'keep America white'" Park continued, looking at me, knowing more about the subject.

"Duvall was going to march on Washington with the guns Perseus gave him." I explained what Duvall told me about his plans while I was tied up. "Taunted me about his plans all along and his little politics view." I added before I was rethinking of something. "Does anyone of you know a 'Stitch' ?"

"'Stitch' ?" Park repeated, trying to find something in her head. "Heard the name from Adler sometimes, hard to know more with him."

"Why ?"

"Well, each time 'Stitch' is mentioned, Adler is kinda acting strange and not himself." She responded as I looked at her with wide eyes.

"Adler acting strange & not himself is normal for me." I scoffed, making her roll her eyes around.

"To say that we got Derazio, Alvarez & Duvall in one single day...." Wolf nodded as he couldn't believe it himself before I groaned silently from the pain. "You're wounded ?" I nodded to him. "It's better that Park got you back at the safehouse, gonna stay here for a little with the cleaning crew before coming back." He then approached me to give me a little tap on my right shoulder. "Good job, Yirina."

"You're coming, Yiri ?" Park asked in a low voice, rhetorically to me and then I followed, avoiding the bodies on the ground.

Thanksfully, I was still able to walk perfectly even now with that wound on my chest, Duvall did get the knife deep enough to make it more visible, I wasn't bleeding from it anymore but it would be better that we got it treated before it can get infected. Park led me to the same car we have used for days and I installed myself on the front seat with her before we drove off the place. Finally, I could breathed normally after getting out of this place that was very deep inside the Bayou.

This situation....having my ass get saved.....it wasn't my first time, I could remember East-Berlin well enough : seeing Park, Lazar & Adler rappel down to enter that warehouse and now Park, Wolf and some CIA guys arrived to save the day....my day. Park....was really my guardian angel and I think I was hers too. We saved each other a countless times and I was happy that she reacted quickly with the others, she can't blame herself for that.

After minutes of driving, we finally arrived at the safehouse but there were something very wrong about the place now : Sims was waiting for us on the porch and the house was looking damaged now, the front windows were broken.....something has happened here. We got out of the car, very curious as Sims started to join us.

"I think we have a big problem !" He started, looking at the house behind him.

"What kind of problem ?" Park asked but she didn't have any responses from him, just him gesturing to us to follow him inside. When we entered, we could see that someone came here when we were all gone, the place were all trashed and when we arrived in the operations room, we understand the 'big problem' "You got to be shitting me !" She exclaimed, seeing the dashboard that has been tagged red with the Perseus emblem.

"Fuck, Perseus was here." I whispered, looking around me to see the room turned over. "How long you arrived back here ?"

"10 minutes after I brought Alvarez to another hideout." Sims replied, moving to redress the table back to normal. "Fuckers trashed the place down but they didn't take anything." He added before he looked at the table where the radio was on, completely broken.  "They had time in 2 hours after we left the place to save Alvarez."

"And the first floor ?" Park questioned him and he shook his head.

"What was interesting them was more damaging everything in the ground level." He got next to the dashboard, looking at it with desesperation. "Even if we got Duvall, Perseus is still acting and he knows where we were hiding in the state."

"Perseus has something that will happen soon in the US." I said, sitting down on the only couch that was available. "We got news from Adler ?" I asked.

"Called me before I got here, they were soon arrived in West-Berlin after getting rid of the general." He replied, walking next to the room's door. "I'm going to clean up the place before Wolf come back here, I see that you're wounded and I guess Park will patch you." He did a silent laugh before he walk out of the room, soon followed by Park that were getting the meds for me.

Now, I was alone in the trashed operations that we used for days, seeing that Perseus insignia on the dashboard was making me sick inside of me.....How I could have stayed with Perseus for so long instead of fleeing away to save my friends ?.....Why ?....I could see that there were something missing on the dashboard : Sonya's picture....gone. If they didn't take anything important, why this particular picture was stolen ? Did they came here or someone else close to her did ?

It took less than a minute for Park to come back with everything necessary to heal that wound on my chest. To be honest, I didn't feel any pain while Park was patching me up with dressings and also disinfecting the wound, only making very silent groans from my mouth. Duvall could have killed me but he was more willing to follow his politics than Perseus's one.

"How you're feeling ?" Park asked after she has finished her business with me.

"Pretty good." I replied, getting my shirt back to normal before I looked back at her. "You really had fairy fingers." I added in a lovely tone to her, making her blush.

"You told me that after that night." She scoffed, making me blush in return....refering to our passionate night here. "Did I tell you that you got also them ?"

"No but thanks you." I smiled at her before we both joined hands together "Thanks you for everything, Park."

"You know that I will always have your back." She affirmed, making me smile further and frankly, we were soon forgetting what happened here before I realized the situation,

"Damn, I really liked this place." I looked around the room, sniffing at seeing it at this state. "Far better than West-Berlin."

"Yes..." She breathed, doing the same as me "Shame we have to go back there." She added before she got something behind her back. "Something from you." She was handing to me, my own M1911 that I thought to have lost at that abandoned lighthouse when the Ku Klux Klan got me.

"How ?" I asked, confused to see it again.

"One of Duvall's men took it with him and when I neutralized that guy, I took it back to give it to you." She responded as I took the gun back with me. By seeing it back, I was impressed by her. That gun.....I used it since a long time and it's like my favourite one.

"Wow, I can say...." I was speechless by Park's actions for me "Thanks you 3000." I finally finished my sentence, looking at Park with a great look that could told 'I love you 3000'.

"Well, I can see that Park make a great job." Sims came back in the room, looking at me with good eyes. "Guess the two make quite a couple."  He admitted and we looked each other, me & Park and we smiled.

"Thank you, Sims." We literally said at the same time before we start to hear the ringing of a satellite phone in the room located right to the broken radio.

"Must be Adler, told he would call back when he will arrived in the safehouse." Sims moved to get to the phone pretty quick and he pick it up. "Hey doc, you will never....." He was going to continue until he froze himself in place to look at us. "Wait, you too ?" At this moment, we could realize that the situation was somehow getting worse. "You got to be kidding me right ?" He asked, before he moved to get next to one of my notebooks, a free one. "Okay, tell me when we join you...." He start to write down something as me & Park was wondering what got into him. "Okay, I'll tell them." He then hang up the phone.

"There's a problem ?" I got up from my seat before he looked back at me.

"The safehouse in West-Berlin has also been raided by Perseus : Adler and his team just found it trashed down too with the surveillance crew dead all over the place." He responded, trying to keep his cool and us, we were shocked to hear that : here and now, West-Berlin. "Our trip in the US is gonna last more longer."

"Why that ?" Park demanded

"An Perseus agent left an intel pointing to an mall in New Jersey." He first replied, getting his hands on the table. "We will have to join Adler to an US Army base near the place." He breathed, looking down in desesperation.

"And do we have a name ?" I asked, extremely curious before Sims raised slowly his head towards me, not sure of saying it even if he got the answer to it.....

"Vikhor 'Stitch' Kuzmin !"

[riverboundao3ff]

Riverbound, Chapter 11

You are THE GUARDIAN, and you’re currently listening to the sound of your girlfriend murdering people.

Okay, so you’re not a judgy person, because that’s like, your thing. You’re the listening ear, the shoulder to cry on. You’re the bridge between tattered hearts and the friend that keeps them safe. You also know that Polypa kills people for a living. She’s an assassin, and that’s her thing.

None of that stops you from nearly passing out as you listen to the death rattle of some teenager.

The brief whine of psionics makes you taste metal. You brace for another series of wet gasps, but all you get is a dull thud of a body hitting the floor.

Fuck my life. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--

You hear your alien moirail call your name, and it sounds like she’s talking to you underwater. Unthinkingly, you reach out, grab a fistful of space-time, and drag yourself a few meters downwards. Man, if Ultimate Dirk could see you right now he’d laugh until he shit himself.

Oh, hey, you’re falling now.

There’s a thump as another body hits the floor, except now it’s your body.

Something shoves your shoulder, and then rolls you over on your back. You look up into Polypa’s bemused face. There’s a bit of golden blood on her cheek.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

You try and say “Yeah,” but what comes out sounds more like “Unngh.”

“Okay. You can stay down there if you want.”

She flips you back over on your stomach, rifles around in the backpack, and pulls out a bomb and some papers you assume are the instructions. You guess she’s setting it, because you hear her messing around with the thing.

Come on, get back up. Come on.

You get one arm underneath you, then the other. Somehow you rise to both feet, force yourself to keep your eyes away from the bloody bodies tossed into the corner and aimed literally anywhere else. They end up settling on Polypa.

“Watch this.” She stomps on a tile a few times, making it flip up on one side. Carefully, like she’s setting down a piece of valuable art, she places the bomb underneath and lets the tile fall back into place. “This whole factory is probably older than the damn Grand Highblood. It’s like they’re asking to get infiltrated.”

She’s trying to distract you, which you appreciate even if it’s not working that well. “... Well, next time I see him I’ll ask.”

“You…” Polypa just stares at you for a moment before scrubbing her face with her hands. “Of course. I’m gonna go take care of the bodies. Be right back.”

“Yeah.” You check your watch. Has it really only been four minutes? This was going to be a lot quicker than you thought it was going to be. As long as no more people got hurt, everything was right on track.

You’re not looking, but you can hear Polypa shoving the dead goldbloods into the janitorial closest on the other side of the room. It won’t do anything to deter a troll from investigating the suspicious scene-- even you can pick up on the stench of death with your crappy human nose, but if something went to shit then it would hopefully buy the two of you a couple of extra seconds.

Polypa comes back, wiping her hands on her pants like she does this sort of thing every day, and hey, maybe she does. She reaches for your hand. You have to force yourself to take it without hesitation.

Mission now, feelings later.

“Ready?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

You concentrate hard on the map Tyzias showed you, and then on a spot with no other people around, and jump.

This time you get much luckier. The computer room the both of you appear in is abandoned, and the lights are off. Nobody’s been here for a while, which helps you feel a little better, but for the umpteenth time in the last few days you can barely see anything.

You sling off the backpack and pull out another bomb. “What time do we set them for?”

“Just let me do it. I know you can’t see.”

“But I haven’t even done anything yet on this mission!” You fumble around with the bomb and feel the timer buttons underneath your fingers. “What time?”

Quick as a flash, the explosive is swiped from your hands. “Nope.”

“Polypa! Come on.”

“With your luck you’ll just set the thing off.”

“What, no faith in your own moirail? That stings,” you huff. She’s right, though. You like to think yourself a bringer of good fortune and even greater shenanigans, but you can’t deny the occasional nightmare you have over a timeline gone wrong. It’s never the entire situation, which you’re grateful for, because you’ve already got enough trauma to last the rest of your possibly immortal life but it’s still enough to make you nervous about going to sleep. You don’t know if it’s good or bad that you don’t remember everything about the other “outcomes”.

Then you realize you’ve just been standing there, staring off into the darkness for who knows how long, so you huff and cross your arms to let Polypa know you’re still alive.

“Done. Also, there isn’t a timer for these things. Tagora has the detonator,” she tells you.

“Cool. I knew that.”

“Sure you did.”

You kick at the sound of her voice and miss horribly. She snickers, shoves your shoulder, almost knocking you over when you trip over something that feels like a cord.

All of the computers wake up in a blaze of light that nearly blinds you. You freeze in place, and Polypa covers her eyes with a hiss.

No alarms go off-- none that you can hear, anyways, but you’re not wasting any time. You lunge for your alien girlfriend and zap the both of you right the hell out of there.

The next place you appear in looks like some sort of basement. You’re still in the drone factory, because your space-time spidey sense says so. It’s damp and gross and you’re fairly certain your left shoe is in something nasty.

Neither you or Polypa move or make any noise for what feels like hours. You know it’s only like, thirty seconds, but goddamn if it doesn’t take forever to get the courage to take a step closer to your moirail.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” She smacks you upside the head.

“Ow! Hey, it wasn’t my fault! You pushed me!”

“Sometimes I wonder how you’ve survived for this long.”

“Yeah, dude, me too.”

You’re pretty sure that nobody else is around, so you peek out from behind a big furnace-looking thing to get a better view of your surroundings. There isn’t much to see-- dust bunnies, junk, more junk, pipes… hey, are those more computers?

“Hey, Polypa? Is it normal for a creepy old basement to have a whole computer lab?” you ask, trotting over to investigate.

“Uh, I mean, I’ve seen movies?” she offers, leaning over your shoulder to see what you’re looking at. Something in your gut is telling you that this particular point in space and time matters. Intuition rarely fails you, so you listen to what the universe has to say.

You tap on what you assume is the spacebar on a particularly fancy-looking monitor. The screen lights up, presenting a login bar alongside a shutdown option, with a background depicting some anime character Tegiri most likely would have been able to name.

“Pfft, okay, whose goofy weeb ass works here? I just wanna know,” you snort.

“Why is this important?”

“I just have a feeling. Any ideas as to what the password could be?”

“... Why would I know?”

“Boo, you’re no fun.”

By some miracle of the gods, or whatever higher power decided to watch over your crackhead self for the night, your eyes wander to a sticky note stuck on a folder that was half-buried under some paperwork. The writing on it is messy, but you’re able to make out six digits scrawled out in red ink.

0-0-0-4-1-3

Right. 413. That didn’t make your skin crawl in the slightest.

You type in the numbers and hit the enter key. Of course, it works.

“That’s weird,” Polypa mutters.

“Yeah, for real.”

“What are you looking for?”

“I have no idea.” You click on the Goregle icon, close out of it, draw a dick with the cursor on the desktop, and go into Settings and turn the volume down. Man, where was Mallek when you needed him? You wish he was here with you. He’d have a fuckin’ blast getting into this system, you just know it.

A dash of red catches your eye-- a desktop app shaped like the head of a drone. You click on it and are greeted with a spreadsheet full of dates and times, and next to every date is a location. There’s also notes on what trolls lived where, like Fangrash, which was predominantly rustblood, or Glitch, where a ton of goldbloods live.

It’s only when you see Outglut with today’s date beside it does it hit you. This isn’t just some company organizational bullshit.

These are plans for drone raids, and in three hours and however-many minutes Outglut was about to get carpet-bombed to hell.

“Polypa,” you whisper.

You feel her tense up beside you, hard as stone in a matter of seconds. “Oh, no. You don’t… oh, no. Yeah.”

She whips out her palmhusk and snaps a couple pictures. You stare down at your hands, forcing yourself to keep breathing. No, you are not going to have two panic attacks in one hour. You’re better than this. You’re the motherfucking First Guardian of the Universe, and you will keep your shit together--

You barely even notice Polypa kicking the third electro-bomb under the desk and throwing the carpet back over it until she’s right next to you.

“Let’s go.” She tugs at your sleeve, and you snap out of the haze you were falling into and throw yourself and your girlfriend through space and into another part of the factory.

The two of you don’t even bother putting the bombs close to the computer rooms anymore, not like it mattered in the first place. Tagora had said something about the radius of the electromagnetic explosion or whatever would be more than enough to encompass the whole factory, but you had tried to be precise anyways, because… you dunno, better safe than sorry. But that’s a luxury you no longer have. The bombs would wipe out all of the information the drones collected, but it wouldn’t be enough to stop an attack.

Polypa leaves the last bomb in an air vent, and you wish it a merry exploding-day before teleporting back to the hideout, scaring the shit out of Tagora when you land right behind him.

“Augh!” He stares at you, then at Polypa, and hisses. “Don’t do that-!”

“That was fast,” Lanque comments.

“We got a problem! Once the drones complete their maintenance and shit they’re gonna bomb Outglut!” you explain frantically. “Polypa and I found a schedule for when the raids happen.”

Tagora and Tyzias both stare at you, dumbfounded. Stelsa, who was doing her lipstick, fumbles with the tube and drops it on the floor. Lanque’s ears pin back and he slowly gets to his feet.

“Just look,” Polypa says, shoving her palmhusk at Tagora. Tagora takes it and zooms in on the picture. Somehow, his eyes grow even wider.

Tyzias groans and drops her head into her hands. “Well, fuck me right up, isn’t this just perfect. Please tell me that you guys got the bombs delivered.”

“We did.”

“Good.”

“The last recovery mission took three wipes to complete, and that was only one neighborhood. How the hell are we…” Lanque just shakes his head in dismay.

Your mind races, trying to figure out a possible solution.

Ask Azdaja to hack into everybody’s palmhusks and tell them to GTFO? No, you’re pretty sure that if it was that easy it would have already been done. Rally the whole neighborhood and try and take down the drones together? As if. You can’t stop your subconscious from playing back the memories of various raids you’d heard about or been near-- the explosions that seemed to shake the very planet, the screaming, the wail of the sirens that haunted you in your nightmares.

Wait.

“The sirens,” you mutter.

Stelsa turns to you. “What?”

“The sirens! We find them and set them off early. I don’t know how much of a difference it’ll make, but maybe it could give everybody a head start,” you explain.

“That is… highly illegal. The sirens aren’t activated until a certain amount of hives have already been destroyed,” Tagora points out.

“And?”

“It would be a shame if you were to find them. On the corner of Slimewash and Bryght Street,” he continues. “Of course, they’re usually set off remotely, but the system is actually quite simple. It wouldn’t take much to rewire it and trigger it manually.”

Despite everything you can’t help but smile a little. “Yeah, that would suck.”

Stelsa winces, looking almost fearful, before grabbing Tyzias’s hand. “Is this really worth the risk?”

“To save people’s lives? Yes. If you don’t want to come that’s fine, though,” you tell her, before remembering you know jack shit about rewiring things. “... Actually, it would be nice if somebody came along to tell me what wires go where or whatever.”

“If somebody sees you things could get bad real quick,” Polypa says quietly.

“Yep.”

“Then I’ll come.”

“I’m coming, too.” Lanque smirks. “I’m not ready to go back to the caverns just yet.”

You see the hesitation in Tyzias’s eyes as she glances at Stelsa, then at you, and then back to her matesprit. She’s torn between safety and the rebellion she leads, and you don’t blame her at all.

“You should go home,” you tell her. “A tealblood in a lowblooded neighborhood is probably gonna get some looks. Besides, the less people who see you guys with me in public, the better.”

Both Stelsa and Tyzias give you grateful looks, and some of the tension leaves Tagora’s bony shoulders. The highbloods aren’t just risking their lives, you know; they’re risking their reputation and status, too. And reputation and status are something you guys are gonna need sooner or later.

You blow out a breath. The bombs won’t be set off for another three hours. You’re way ahead of schedule, which is way better than being behind schedule, but that still leaves you and your friends with way too much time to kill before you need to do more crime.

“Sooo…” you say, not meeting any of the troll’s eyes. “What do y’all wanna do now?”

[demaury]

As long as skies are blue

The gang and the girls are spending some well-deserved time off at the beach after the end of the school year. Read on AO3.

“I’d suck that dick right there and then.”

The statement emanated from one of the two girls before him, both no older than Lucas, as he was impatiently waiting in the queue to grab some ice cold drinks from the food truck stationed a street away from the beach front. It would have been easier if anyone among their friends had 9.50€ to spend on a water bottle from one of those many beach bars popping out every now and then, or simply if Lucas had enough strength to walk the five more blocks separating their spot on the beach from the nearest convenience store — at least, maybe he wouldn’t have been losing nearly thirty minutes of his time, just waiting for a fucking kid to pick a flavor for his morning ice-cream. 

Somehow, Eliott graduating and a string of meetings with the Demaurys had been enough to convince them that the idea of a group of unsupervised teens in their vacation house for a couple of days, a few minutes away from Marseille, wasn’t as reckless as it seemed. The Gang and the girls had flocked in at Eliott’s flat the evening after his boyfriends’ parents had agreed to the trip, and after a long debate including Daphné repeating every three minutes that they needed to get to Barcelona by the last week of July, they had managed to squeeze in ten days, between the BAC results and the girls leaving, the Bakhellals' and Demaurys’ family vacations, and the weekend Emma was supposed to spend with her mom in Italy.

“Lulu, you’re free?”, Basile had asked at some point.

He had shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “I’m pretty short on family gatherings.”

And so that’s how they had all ended up here. 

Lucas wasn’t sure that riding a hangover by 30°C was the smartest idea ever, so the thing to do would probably be to find their way back home before the temperature hit that number. They had spent the day (and the night) before at some music fest they had stumbled on by accident. Lucas and Eliott’s tipsy selves had been leading the way back, followed by the girls singing their lungs off to a tune Lucas was sure he should have been able to recognize. Then there had been Yann and Arthur, whose job had essentially been to drag a shitfaced Basile, occasionally preventing him from chasing a cat down the street or going off running in the waves. By six in the morning, everyone was too tired to make the trip back to the Demaurys’ vacation house, so they had taken a break on the shore that had been stretching ever since.

Lucas’ mind snapped back in place when the girl’s friend started laughing annoyingly, joining her in her blatant staring from behind her sunglasses. A distinctive huff of disapproval came from the elderly couple waiting in the second queu to their left, and Lucas felt a lot like imitating them. See, he was certainly no angel, and no blushing virgin. After turning 12, everyone around him had started talking about groping and grabbing, about shoving tongues in all kinds of places and twisting their bodies at weird angles just for the sake of experimenting. Basile alone had made about a quarter of those comments in the single year he had known him, and if anything, hanging out with Emma and Alexia had opened his eyes on the fact that girls could be very vocal about the matter as well.

However.

There was a line between admitting that gender equality also applied to conversations about sex, and gracefully accepting that the aforementioned conversation turned out to be about his boyfriend’s dick — the dick he was the only one to suck, thank you very much. He couldn’t decently pick a fight (if he ever did, he would never live this one down), so he did the only thing he could at the moment: he glared. He glared, he scowled, he threw daggers, so much that it felt like third grade and trying to use the Force all over again.

Neither of the girls seemed to notice him, still too focused on Eliott, who was leaning against a street barrier further down the street. From what Lucas knew he was on the phone with his parents, as part of the deal they had made with the Demaurys at the beginning of their vacation, and the small crease between his brows only emphasized the fact that he was totally oblivious about the rest of the world.

The family of three at the top of his line eventually decided on an ice-cream flavor for their stupid kid and walked away after paying, leaving a clear space between the girls and the food truck. “Can you move?” Lucas blurted out, irritated.

The two girls looked at him as if they were suddenly registering his presence for the first time.

“Oh, c’mon, chill out dude,” the blonde one said, shrugging in annoyance.

She and her friend took a slow step to the food truck and started ordering the most obnoxious flavors of ice-cream he had ever heard. When the brunette uttered the word ‘vegan’, he practically face-palmed himself, and had to reach for his phone in order to unleash some deep-rooted hatred for the human kind threatening to spill out.

lucallemant

i’m gonna die from fucking old age here

y4z4s

where’s your boo

lucallemant

busy looking like a 3 course meal

y4z4s

???

lucallemant

he’s on the phone with his mom

people stare

i hate it

He hadn’t even hit the ‘send’ button yet that the affected tone of the blonde girl made its way to his ears again, instantly giving him murder vibes.

“How much do you bet I can get him?”, she asked conversationally, as if every single one of her words wasn’t making Lucas want to rip off his own skin.

Her friend scorned. “Hands off, you’ve got Matthieu already.”

“Like he’s not doing the same in Madrid,” the blonde waved dismissively. “You let me five minutes with him I get an insta account. Ten and I get a date.”

“Hasn’t it occurred to you that he might not be interested?” Lucas snapped before he even thought about it beforehand.

The brunette spared him a glance above the metallic frame of her sunglasses. “Everyone’s interested. Ever heard of summer love?”

Lucas scoffed. “What are you, 13?”

“Don’t be pissy, someone will suck your dick someday.”

He almost laughed. Before he could answer, there was a sudden rise of eyebrows on both girls’ faces, and then someone lifting the snapback from his head, startling him a little as he spun around.

Eliott nonchalantly put it on, as if the stare of the two girls was something he couldn’t decently get bothered with — and, all things considered, maybe he wasn’t, not when you’d been looking like that all your life. “Thanks for keeping it for me babe,” he said, beaming at Lucas. “I thought I’d never get to hang up.” His boyfriend glanced around after a second of nothing. “Making friends?”, he asked, a hint of tease lingering in his voice.

Asshole, Lucas thought, barely biting back a snort. Instead he turned so that his whole body was now facing Eliott’s, narrowing his eyes with a disarming honesty he knew well enough Eliott had troubles resisting. “Of course not, you’re the only thing I need in my life baby,” Lucas said sweetly, his arms snaking behind his neck as he stood up on his tiptoes to claim his mouth.

Eliott let out the tiniest chuckle as their lips met. The world faded out when he started sucking onto Lucas’ bottom lip, his hands hovering dangerously low on the small of his back and sliding under the hem of his tee-shirt to brush at the skin.  

Someone cleared their throat and Lucas’ eyes fluttered open, breaking the kiss. Inside of the food truck, the lady was waiting for them to order, but Lucas couldn’t tell if her cheeks were red because of the heat or because they had gone full PDA-mode. Eliott coughed a little to hide his laugh, and Lucas racked his brain for a second before searching for the list he had hastily typed when everyone had suddenly started mistaking him for their slave. He ordered the bunch of water bottles and snacks they needed to stay alive for a while, then turned back to Eliott as the lady was busy going through the fridges to gather everything.

“Since when are we a ‘babe’ couple, by the way?”, he asked bluntly.

Eliott’s eyes crinkled in amusement, putting his sunglasses back. “You don’t like it?”

Lucas tilted his head to the side, pouting a little bit as he turned innocent eyes on him. “I like everything about you, baby.” Then, as Eliott started laughing, he went back to his normal mode. “No, seriously. I’m not sure I’m ready to get called out about it. They already make fun of me for being ‘all over you’,” he groaned, mimicking the quotation marks.

Eliott shrugged nonchalantly, making his collarbones pop a little under his skin. “Alright, we’re keeping it out of the way, if you stop with that… thing.”

“What thing?” Lucas turned to the food truck to pay for the drinks and grab the two kraft bags the woman was handing him from above the counter.

“Oh baby, take me right now,” Eliott said, mirroring his voice from earlier, as he gallantly took the bag with the drinks inside.

Lucas practically dropped his own. “I never said that,” he muttered, cheeks burning. 

“No, but that’s what my dick heard,” Eliott snorted, sliding an arm around his neck and ruffling his hair.

Lucas rolled his eyes. 

“And here I thought I was dating a literature student.”

[paranoid-rhythm]

FGO the Stage Babylonia - Random notes/report

I know I rarely post here anymore, but just got home from watching Babylonia Stage and I just need to dump these out, before I forget them lol

* Story opening is as is in game, aka Romani briefing Gudako and Mashu about Babylonia

* But includes song & dance number from the goddesses, Enkidu and Gil.

* Ishtar scene doesn't occur, only passively mentioned. They skip to the Chaldeans meeting EnKingu.

* Ide's Romani is so fucking cuuute. He's certainly got Romani's personality down pat lol.

* Akira's Merlin is on point too. Just seeing him makes me want to punch him lol

* Ana's actress is so cute and lol she's just 143cm tall

* There's a scene of EnKingu massacring humans.

* Romani freaking out from Gudako calling Merlin "Merlin-oniisan" lmao

* Romani and Merlin's duet ang dance lmao the song is kinda Bollywood-ish lol

* The some of the lyrics go like: Gan gan gan senrigan senrigan kimi no egao wa mabushii~ (Clair, clair, clairvoyance! Your smile is too dazzling~!!)

* Gorgon's entrance is a scene where she's massacring some humans. It differs from the game, as Ereshkigal is already revealed as part of the goddess alliance.

* They actually have a live instrumentalists performing, it's nice.

* Gil's intro. Dear lord. HAHAHAHAHA

* And to answer your question, yes he break dances too. Though not to the extent of Reo's Ozymandias.

* BUT HIS INTRO SONG IS SO FUCKING ANNOYING--... I MEAN, it's seriously, a fucking ear bug, lolol

* Gil's not the one singing, but his back up dancers/singers.

* His song is a pun lol it goes like:

GIRU GIRU GIRU GIRU GILGAMESH GIRU GIRU GIRU GIRU GIRU GIRU

GIRU GIRU GIRU GIRU GIRU GIRU TSUYOSUGIRU GIRU GIRU GIRU GIRU

GIRU GIRU GIRU GIRU TSUYOSUGIRU

(Gil Gil Gil Gil Gilgmaesh Gil Gil Gil Gil Gil Gil Gil Gil Gil Gil Gil Gil is super strong (tsuyosugiru))

Imagine that repeating a lot of times. Damn, I got LLS'd on it.

* Ishtar actually calls Gil "Naked King of Uruk" lol

* Flashback on Gil and Enkidu's first meeting. And Ishtar asking Gil to be her husband lol.

Ishtar: Be my husband!

Gil: HAHAHAHA. No.

* There's no Ushi, Benkei, and Leonidas. D:

* Gil and Enkidu's duet... TAT

Gil: You're not just a tool, not just a human! You are my friend, the one who will fight by my side until the end of time, Enkidu!

* EnKingu crying because he is seeing Enkidu's past with Gil

* LMAO the "odd jobs" Shearing sheep, etc. The secret love affair couple even had a duet.

* The Urukian's National Anthem lol. "koko wa Uruk subarashiki ou no kuni" (This is Uruk, the Kingdom of the wonderful King)

* Ana's scene with the flower shop old lady. TAT

* The sea observatory chapter. They didn't do the scene with the rider spriggan kicking Gil's abs (boo) but exchanged it for a short fight scene with Gil and Kingu.

* Gil calling Mashu and Ritsuka by their name, and telling them to go back to Uruk safely. 気を付けて戻れよ ;A;

* LUCHAAAAA~! They actually arrange the stage into a wrestling ring lol

* There's no Jaguar Man unfortunately, but they replaced her with 4 groupies wearing Jaguar hats following Quetz around lol

* Quetz actually doing pro-wres "matches" with the extras lol Romani and Da Vinci actually becomes the announcers/commentators. Romani geting too carried away in playing commentator lol

* I'm telling y'all Quetz is LEGIT lol She ends up plancha-ing 5 people. Also, Quetz's BG song is heavy metal-ish lol

* Ishtar freaking out over Gil's treasures lol Gudako bargaining with Ishtar is sooo cute.

* Romani running away from the Chaldea staff, around the stage during the intermission, doing/carrying random stuff

* Romani actually had a song for his snack time (marron glacé) lol

* The way they did the Ishtar/Ereshkigal talking to Guda scene was actually nice. Ishtar talking to Gudako in the forefront, Ereshkigal behind a screen, beside them.

* They actually did the scene with Guda giving food to the "old man". And the SKY HIGH RIDER BUSTER PLANCHA lol

* HAHAHAHA CasGil's karoushi scene lmao

* Gil actually walking like his April Fool's art towards his bench and falling asleep. ‎Then dying.

* Gil waking up in the underworld, playing with reverb/echo, using his ax as a mic lol

* They skipped the gates part, but kept Gil's "presence concealment EX" part lol

* They kept the huge ass ghost "skin" for Eresh by having her stand behind a screen and projecting the ghost skin there.

* Ishtar vs Ereshkigal fight scene/duet

* Gudako: Nice, ousama~!!

Gil: Hmph! * arm flex *

* THEY ACTUALLY HAD THE GALL TO SHOW SIDURI GETTING TAKEN AWAY BY THE LAHMU DSFHKJ;KSDSD;KSAK

* They skipped the Ax of Marduk + Quetz lucha-ing Merlin. Boo.

* Kingu getting mauled by the other montsers/lahmu... ;A; Siduri blocking the last hit and instructing him to run... god damn my kokoro

* The lion thing monster was constructed like a dragon/lion dance costume, complete with glowing/blinking eyes

* Gil giving the Grail to Kingu scene. AKA Gil just picked up the Grail and threw it at Kingu.

* They changed the scene where Gil covered for Gudako and got sniped by Tiamat instead. He still got sniped but didn't cover Gudako. Also didn't include the part were Gudako asked to hold his hand while falling into the underworld. Boo.

* Tiamat was forms were just projection mapped across the stage

* They had Gramps too, but only the old man costume. The servant costume was projected only.

* They switched the part where Kingu sacrificed himself to hold Tiamat down. They did that when they're in the underworld already, as opposed to the game where it happened after Gil have the Grail to Kingu.

* The end made me realize it's sad that Romani's not there to welcome us back anymore. TAT

* And oh curtain call. Gil and Enkidu came out with their arms linked. Like you know, a groom escorting his bride.

* ROMANI SCOOPING UP GUDAKO BRIDAL STYLE AND RUNNING AWAY WITH HER. Chased by an angry Mashu, Da Vinci and Merlin.

* Romani fighting and pushing, boxing Merlin away from Gudako.

* THESE SHIPPERS I SWEAR. Enkidu trading places with Gudako so that Gil and Gudako would hold hands for the last bow. GDI

* Enkidu pulling Gil out from backstage for one last bow lol

* Oh right, right. I kept count. Gil said ZASSHU a grand total of 1 (one) times. Damn.

[haydenbarnes]

wrath & redemption | self para

His hand wrapped around the cold metal handle of the door that led into the soundproofed room in the back end of Labyrinth. There was always a moment of hesitation before he opened this particular door. He always knew what was on the other side, so it wasn’t a hesitation that came from apprehension, but one that came from a moral dilemma as to whether he was the kind of man who could one day walk away unscathed from this kind of business. At this point in time, the devil on his shoulder had much more of an influence than the angel. So, once again, he opened the door to the grunts and groans of a cheating, sleazy man.

The room was small, the only decor available was a couple of grey metal cabinets with locks on and a stool that sat dead center. Foam echo-proof padding donned the walls, making sure that the highly illegal goings-on of Labyrinth stayed firmly between him, the subject, the Doctor they paid to sit in the room next door just in case, and the bouncer who brought the cheater here and stopped Hayden from crossing a point of no return. 

Pleading eyes, filled with fear stared at Hayden as he picked up the white knuckle wrap from the side and slowly began pacing the room, bandaging his hands. He had tape over his mouth, so he couldn’t actually talk, but the groans that came from hostage definitely sounded like a mix of ‘please don’t do this’, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘what the fuck is happening?’. 

“You’re probably wondering what the fuck is happening, right?” Hayden finally spoke as he dropped down so that his eyes were level with whoever this over-compensating wall-street-wishing wannabe CFO was. It was as their eyes met that Hayden had to just completely shut off his moral compass. It was as their eyes met that Hayden felt that flood of adrenaline surge through his body that made him not only want to do this but made him need it. 

“Well,” he chuckled as he finished wrapping his hands and threw the tape off to one side. “I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll tell you why you’re here if you can tell me why you think it’s okay to walk around this casino’s blackjack tables with a 21 card duo up your sleeve,” he challenged with a sinister smile as he slowly began to peel the tape off his skin. “Ahh-- and save the screaming, okay? This is, like, all soundproofed and I literally just had to take an Advil before this. Migraines suck am I right?” With that, Hayden ripped the tape off the man’s mouth in one quick action.

He yelled out in pain, his body tensing up as he tried one more time to free his hands from the rope that tied them to the chair. “What the fuck is this place?” He cried, his eyes watering as his lips went a shade of red Hayden thought was only possible in cartoons. “So I tried to make a fast fucking buck! I’m fucking broke man! I can barely afford my mortgage! What?! Are you gonna-- Are you gonna kill me for that?” The man was shaking, and as Hayden’s eyes glanced down to his crotch, he realized the dude had wet himself as well. Clearly, this was his first shakedown. 

“No, I’m not going to kill you, you fucking moron,” Hayden scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning around to the bouncer who couldn’t help but smirk. “What? I look like a murderer?” Hayden turned back to the cheater. “No-- don’t be a fuckin’ tool, we just bring shitbags like you back here to make sure you don’t come back here again-- so, tell me, princess, have you learned your lesson?” 

“Sure! Sure! I w-won’t... You think I’m gonna come back to this place? None of us will come here! Not me, not my buddies--” WHACK. Hayden’s fist smacked across the guys' face, his knuckles tearing through a part of his cheekbone. “What the fuck was that f--”

“Your buddies aren’t gonna know about this, hotshot. You hear me?” Hayden stood up and went to turn around, but then quickly pivoted back around, fist slamming square into the dude’s jaw, sending blood everywhere. Quickly, Hayden grabbed a chunk of his hair, his knee pushed down hard into the man’s genital area and he closed the gap between them to mere inches. “Listen to me, you fucking idiot. If I hear one little whisper of you telling anyone about this room, about me, about this casino? If you even think about calling a lawyer, or going to the press, or badmouthing Labyrinth Casinos or Ainsley Slater’s name in any way at all, I will rain down on you like FUCKING hellfire! DO I MAKE MYSELF CRYSTAL FUCKING CLEAR?!” Hayden yelled, causing the guy to start crying uncontrollably and nod over and over again. “Good,” he smiled as he took a few steps back from the chair. 

“So tell me-- er,” Hayden turned around to the bouncer as he pointed back to the man. “What’s this dude’s name?” 

“Clive.”. 

“Of course it is...” Hayden took a deep breath and rolled his eyes before turning back. “So tell me, Clive, what happened tonight? Why’s your face all busted up?” 

“I-I-I---” 

Hayden groaned and threw his hands up in the air which caused the guy to flinch so badly that he fell over backward, hitting his head on the concrete behind him. “Fucking IDIOT,” Hayden grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him back up before slapping his cheek a couple times. “Answer my fucking question, asshole. What happened tonight? What’s up with your face, besides it being ugly as fuck?” 

“I was-- I was at the casino,” he flinched, but then kept going when the hit didn’t come. “I was at the casino a-and I got too drunk... I got kicked--”

“No, you didn’t get kicked out, did you?”

“N-- No, I left the casino a-and I went to a club?” He stuttered. Hayden nodded, moving his hand in a ‘and?’ motion. “A-And I got in a fight with someone there b-because I was-- I spilled a drink on him.”.

“There... That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Hayden smiled as he ruffled the guy's hair to just patronize him just a little bit more. “Well,” he clapped his hands together. “I think he’s learned his lesson, and I think we’re done here,” Hayden nodded as he began to unwrap his knuckle tape. “The Doc will just check you over then you’re free to go, dude. Just remember,” Hayden dropped down to whisper in his ear. “We have your credit card details, your full address and your name. You speak a word of this and I will find you, and who knows, maybe I do look like a murderer.” Hayden stood back up and rose his eyebrows at the man who was now just a quivering mess covered in sweat, blood and piss. 

The bouncer knocked on the only other way in and out of the room and the Doctor came in. Hayden zoned out at that point, throwing the tape into the bin and exiting through the door he came in from. As quickly as he was able to shut his emotions off for the job, once the deed was done, they came flooding back in. His hands started shaking so he pocketed them as he made his way through the back corridors of the casino, head down so no-one would speak to him and delay his getting to fresh air. The sound of the fire door slamming open against bins echoed through his head, the cold late night air danced across his face and through his hair. He sighed. He swallowed. 

The sound of quick footsteps approaching him caused him to finally look up, and as he did he saw the bloodied man running down the back alleyway to freedom. Their eyes locked onto each other and it felt like everything suddenly went into slow motion, he could feel the fear and hurt he’d caused. It all sped back up again as he shouted something like ‘don’t come near me’, as he almost tripped over his own feet before taking the first turn off he came to. Then, once again it was just Hayden, alone, in the middle of the night with bruising knuckles and the guilty weight on his conscience. 

Hayden pulled his hood up and made his way out of the alley and out into the city. He took a long way home so he could avoid the town center in a hope that he wouldn’t bump into anyone he knew, or anyone at all really. His mind spun with what had just happened. What number was that now? Was that his-- tenth? Fifteenth? He was beginning to lose track. It was easier to deal with it when the guy he was beating up was a total asshole when they were spitting at him and smirking and trying to make the job hard. It was easier to justify what he was doing, those guys deserved being brought down a peg or two, didn’t they? But that guy? He’d wet himself before Hayden even walked in. He could have just said boo and he wouldn’t have said anything or come back again. But, he’d set a precedent for himself now. It’s what was expected. But that didn’t justify what he did at all... Not with him. 

He came to the edge of the park. It was the final stretch of his journey home. Ten minutes and he could just drink himself to sleep. But, then he happened to notice the flickering lights of the church on the corner. He’d walked this way a couple times before, and he’d even done in the daytime, but he’d never noticed that church before. Hayden’s relationship with religion was complicated, to say the least. He couldn’t bring himself to believe in God as a master creator and overseer of every human action. There were too many immoral wrongs and unfair miscarriages of justice in the world for him to believe that. But, there had to be something. There had to be some force that connected everyone and everything, right? Otherwise, what was the point in love or friendship or compassion? Otherwise... Why did he feel so bad about what he was doing right now? Why did he feel like he had sinned?

Hayden found himself walking into the church before his mind had even made the decision to go in. Despite it being 1 in the morning, candles still burned on vigil’s dotted down the edges of the pews. The sound of plainsong and Gregorian chants played gently through the speakers. He let out a heavy breath and looked back at the front door. What was he doing? He wasn’t worthy of redemption. The sound of muttering prayers broke through the music and caused him to look back into the church. A man sat on a cushion in front of the altar, hands pushed together, head back, eyes closed. Hayden furrowed his eyebrows and once again his feet began to walk him down the aisle before his mind decided on the action. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed nervously, eyes firmly on who he guessed was the priest. Who else would be in front of the alter this time at night? Hayden slid into a pew a couple rows back from the front and pushed his hands into his pockets. He nipped at the inside of his mouth. Maybe he could try that; praying. Maybe that would take the weight off his shoulders a little bit. Maybe there was something or someone that could help. He doubted it, but maybe... Maybe...

He closed his eyes and tried to clear the images that immediately projected onto his eyelids. But, as he tried to clear his mind, he couldn’t help but begin to actually hear what the man was saying. He couldn’t catch it word for word, but he heard the word sorry. He heard him ask for forgiveness. He heard him speak about a boy. He heard the word cancer. He heard the word cheating. He heard the word deserves. Then he heard ‘I know even gambling is a sin, and I’m sorry, please forgive me.’. Hayden’s eyes shot open and he stood up so fast he almost knocked the pew in front of him over. His chest rose and fell at the same rate as if he’d just run a marathon. The man jumped and turned around and there he was. His face still stained in blood. His lip swollen. 

“I--” Hayden’s words got trapped in his throat. He went white as a sheet. He wanted to throw up. “I’m sorry... I’m--” Hayden shook his head as he shuffled out of the pew back into the aisle with his hands up as if he was surrendering to the cops. “I-- I didn’t tail you here, it’s-- I-- I’m sorry,” Hayden was the one stuttering now, his were the eyes that filled with tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered one last time before backing up a few paces then turning and running out of the church. 

He ran through the park, the sound of his own breath so loud it was as if his head was inside a boombox that was playing it. How could he even think for a moment someone like him could possibly find redemption? How could he even think for a moment someone like him could find peace? There was no peace or redemption in the world for a man like Hayden Barnes. For a man that got his own Father murdered. For a man that abandoned his best friend. For a man that gives up at every thing he’s ever started the moment things get hard. For a junkie. 

His door slammed against the wall as he kicked it open. His mind was going so fast he couldn’t understand a single thought other than the one that repeated itself over and over, louder and louder. He needed a fix. He needed the dope. He had some. For emergencies. Drawers went flying across the room as he tried to find where he’d put the bag until; bingo. He held it up against the light, a sigh of relief as he spent a moment just looking at it before snapping back into action. He grabbed everything he needed to cook it up and use it. And within minutes, he pushed it into his veins. And within minutes, he was out. 

That was his redemption. Heroin was his God. 

[cordytriestowrite]

(Not So) Platonic Affection

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are finally on good terms after a rough start. But is this really better than it used to be?

Try not to get to distracted by his abs!

Read Part 1 here

More parts to come!

You ended up being the last one down to breakfast the next morning. You almost skipped the meal all together but you knew that would say more about how you were feeling than showing up. So you trudged into the kitchen begrudgingly.

"Morning gorgeous."

It was Bucky who greeted you today. Almost like he was waiting for you to come in. Your cheeks reddened and you hid them behind your hands, feigning rubbing sleep from your eyes.

"Morning gorgeous." Sam mimicked winking at you and pushing Buck's shoulder playfully. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to leave your room.

You sat down in the space between Thor and Rhodey. Thor poured your coffee, earning a small peck on his massive shoulder. With coffee and food in your system you felt less tired. If it weren't for Bucky addressing you directly every once in a while you would have been able to believe last night never happened. And the winking! He winked every time you made eye contact and sometimes he would bite his lip too. It was practically vulgar and you would have totally lost your sanity if not for Sam, sitting right next to Bucky, mirroring his actions and making you smile through your constant blush.

"Alright heroes." Tony cut through the chatter. He sat low in his chair next to Steve, his head leant on the super soldier's bicep and arms across his chest. He was dressed in his usual silk pajamas and sunglasses, but had procured a tooth pick to complete a uniquely Tony Stark style.

"I dont actually have anything to say. Just wanted all eyes on me." He finally admitted when the table had gone silent. With a round of laughs and 'boo's' everyone rose to start go their separate ways for the day.

"Ready to go (Y/N)?" Wanda asked as she reached your side in the hallway. Her hand slipped into yours with a gentle squeeze. You and Wanda usually sparred in the gym after breakfast but so did Sam and Bucky. Breakfast was already enough with those two today.

"Let's go to the weight room," you said hoping she would not question the change in their routine. She smiled and pulled you through to the elevators.

"Is this about Bucky?" She asked in the same tone one would ask about the weather. You choked on nothing and despite knowing you were alone in the elevator you eyes searched the room before responding. You really hoped she wouldnt ask.

"It's weird Wanda." You sigh. You proceed to tell her your conversation from last night. How Bucky confessed he used to like you and how he doesnt anymore and that makes him feel comfortable to treat you lik part of the team. She listened intently and when you stopped talking she stayed silent, lost in her own thoughts.

"Wanda?" You started. You weren't expecting her to tell you everything would be okay. You were kind of expecting her to tell you that you were being ridiculous and overthinking. But you didnt expect silence after all that. Wanda finally looked at you and opened her mouth but it was then the elevator doors opened. Both your attentions were drawn to the movement and you knew your conversation was over, at least for now.

The weight room was usually used by Thor and Steve and today was no exception. But you did not expect the doors to open and reveal Thor lifting an entire weight rack with one hand. Sometimes you forgot he wasnt human. He put the rack down gently when he noticed you.

"Welcome ladies." He called, making Steve aware of your presence. It was rare to see you here voluntarily. You hated weight training and preferred to be flexible and lithe in battle. Leave the heavy lifting for the super soldiers, gods, and Hulk. Now that you were here, being eyed by Steve like a gazelle who stumbled into a lion's den, you weren't sure this was better than facing Bucky.

-

"Come on (Y/N) only 5 more." Steve called encouragingly from the ground below. He had roped you into an upper body workout you desperately needed and had desperately avoided since being shown this room in your welcome tour three months ago. You were currently hanging from slats installed in the roof and only 5 slats away from the ladder that would take you back to safety. You were sweating and shaking and every word the captain threw at you made your jaw clench in agitation.

"Fuck off, Rogers." You shot back for the hundredth time since starting this stupid drill. If at any time you needed to climb roof beams you wouldn't. You can teleport dammit that's what you would do instead of hanging like an idiot from the ceiling. But that didn't matter to Steve.

"Love you too." He sang back for the hundredth time since starting this stupid drill.

You faintly heard the ding of the elevator doors past your own heavy breathing. Five more slats and you could climb down and never use your arms again.

"So this is where you've been hiding." You heard from below you. You didnt need to see him to know Bucky Barnes had not only found you but just called you out on hiding from him in the first place. And worse than that were the giggles of Wanda and Thor who you had last seen doing pull ups. Well Thor was doing pull ups and Wanda was wrapped around his torso as extra weight. Why couldnt you be face to chest with a shirtless god right now?

"Fuck off Barnes." You groaned.

"Only five more." Steve called his reminder.

You didn't look down. Didn't want to see Bucky and Steve below you smiling at your pain. You practically growled your way to the next rung. Then sobbed as you managed to move one more.

"Yes!" You heard Steve's cheer coupled with clapping from all around the room. You smiled to yourself. And made the mistake of looking down.

Right at the base of the ladder you needed to get to was Bucky smiling proudly at you. That is until you made eye contact. You watched in slow motion as his face changed to a dramatic grimace and his hand lifted the hem of his shirt to show his clenched stomach. The surprise of seeing his tan, hard abdominals and silly face cause you to lose focus on your grip and next thing you knew you were falling to the ground below.

This is why if you were stuck dangling from a roof somewhere you would just teleport. Just in case the bad guy was super hot, super fit, and not at all interested in you romantically when you just realized you might be romantically interested in him.

One second you were falling twenty feet down to the ground and the next you were materializing before Bucky, entirely safe but pissed as all hell.

"Fuck you!" You pushed him with the little might you had left in your screaming muscles. The force didn't even push him back and instead of increasing the distance with a push you really only found yourself against his chest.

He was laughing. He hadn't stopped since he had sent you falling. He laughed as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He laughed as he pressed his lips to your sweaty forehead.

You wanted to be upset but you were so exhausted. You only found yourself chuckling into Bucky's soft shirt, savoring the closeness and the rumble emitting from his chest.

"Sorry doll." He murmured against your forehead. His laughter had finally subsided into a content warmth that spread from his lips and arms into your tired muscles.

"I forgive you." You muttered. Your eyes struggled to stay open and tethered to reality.

"I need to go," you finally managed to say as you moved your head away from Buck's chest, not realizing until then that his lips were still on your hairline. "I'm gross and exhausted." You further explained when Bucky did not let go of your shoulders and let you walk away.

He removed his metal arm from your body and you expected his real arm to follow suit but it still laid heavily on your back. You pulled away further and looked up at him confused.

The way he was looking at you made your breath stutter in your throat. It was the same look he had toward you last night, like he could stay this way forever. If your heart was not already beating at a dangerous rate it definitely reached a deadly level when you felt his metal thumb brush against your bottom lip. His eyes flicked between your gaze and where his thumb rested.

You had to get out of here. The touching, the looks, the teasing, just about everything to do with Bucky Barnes was becoming too much to bear. You focused the last of your energy on getting away from him and to the safety of your room. Appearing gently on your bed you yet again felt that a part of Bucky still lingered on your skin. You subconsciously licked your bottom lip where his thumb has rested as you finally succumbed to your bodily exhaustion.

@salty-buchanan

[pyrogenetic]

--{What do you have.

(( Disclaimer: this was written in 2013, and takes place even before saro’s blog was made, and given a few edits to make it less horrifying to read but was mostly left in its original state. I deleted it previously on accident but wanted to put it back on saro’s blog because it was an important turning point for her character. so here you go! ))

You had no concept of humanity.

What was the point? That was all you could really think, watching him, sitting there, useless, the both of you in that filthy alleyway as he withered away. It’d been three days since he came through that portal with you. Three days since you’d dragged him from that hellish wasteland of silence and metal trees, introduced yourself, and got told that unless you found some way to awaken him, to give him some humanity, he wouldn’t live. He’d die as a pitiful husk. You still didn’t understand what that meant. What humanity, exactly? The kind you didn’’t have? Why you. Why now. Why him, a sliver of a barely living being slumped in front of you in that rainy, dank alley.

“Wake the fuck up! Come on, sunshine! Give me something, you pissant!” That’s what you’d screamed at him. It was in hopes that he’d maybe get up to at least fucking move out of the rain, so you didn’t have to carry him back before he caught his death.

He replied with more silence. Of course.

He was pallid, and monochrome, with long hair down to his skinny ass. He’s nothing but grey. He’s literally colorless. That’s what Bandas had said he’d look like. Until you did something about it. But what? You’d tried everything you know, you’d tried hugging him, albeit very reluctantly, and feeding him, and he just sat there hour after fucking hour with that same, mocking frown on his face and that same lifeless grey veil that covered him head to toe. His skin was chill to the bone. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink, wouldn’t talk. Hell, he barely even moved half the time, and you’d have to check to make sure he was still breathing.

What were you supposed to do? What did he want from you? This had gone on for three days. Since you dragged him by the wings out of that weird realm. The last thing he did was fight you. Nearly killed you actually, before he apparently decided to give up, and became the catatonic piece of shit that sat around with no purpose and no will to live in front of you. But, you couldn’t let him die. That would go against your personal policy. Starvation and dehydration were the worst ways to die in your opinion, you’d rather not see that happen.

So even now, as he’d pressed himself against the wall of the alley in the pouring rain, you felt something odd twist inside your stomach. It burned, in a dull, aching way. It felt like pity, but a deeper version of it. A kind that’d made you want to weep for him. Sympathy, perhaps? That was new. Not very pleasant either. You weren’t sure you wanted to experience this new feeling very much. Snapping out of your thoughts, you glared back at the sad sap on the ground before you.

“Enough screwing around, fuckass! Time to smell the fucking coffee! Get up! Come on!” You leaned down in his face, yelling again, your voice echoing against the damp walls of the empty alley. This time, you noticed minute response. A twitch of his nose as if he tried to snivel. Nice, so he’s a crybaby, too.

You took the opportunity to kneel in front of him. No response to that. Not a thing from him. Of course not. You took his face tenderly in your hands, being mindful of your claws.

--And you hit him smack in the mouth.

Nothing. That didn’t work at all, in fact it looked like the wanker bit his tongue too hard and it’d started bleeding. Great. You cursed to yourself as you opened his fanged mouth to check inside. It wasn’t too severe, a bite against the side of his cheek. Boo-hoo, he’d get over it. Maybe. Hopefully.

You were starting to think the tough approach isn’t going to work. What else could you do though? What else can you do. This was all you knew. You knew pain. Pain is human enough, right? Apparently not. Your panic wasn’t getting better. You didn’t want him to die. You really weren’t sure why, but you didn’t. You felt as if he died, something in you would die alongside him. You didn’t know what that something was, it might be something important like your liver, so you should really fix him. How? a voice echoed in your head.

You grew increasingly desperate as the rain soaked you to the core the longer you stood out in it like an idiot, shouting at this pathetic husk that couldn’t even feed himself. It was the brand of desperate that can only be described by the words that run through your head over and over. Bad bad bad bad bad. Don’t die don’t die don’t die don’t die. How do you teach someone to be human? How do you teach them to be something that you so clearly were not?

How do you teach a person to be alive?

The rain began to pour harder as you leaned forward to do the most primal thing that came to you instinctually, even as an abomination of nature. You wrapped your arms around this drenched, sad creature. You tried to bury your face in his clammy shoulder which, like the rest of him, was cold as hell. The only reason it’s bare was because the clothes you chose for him practically fell off with how big they were against his thin figure. You stayed like that for a while. How long? That was between you and the rain. Your eyes started to sting a little during that time, though you weren’t sure why. Slowly, you realized your embrace was really doing nothing, even after you sat there and squeezed tighter. The only thing that greeted you in response was a tiny rasp of breath when you constricted him. Well. At least he’s breathing.

Finally, you loosened your grip. You pulled away only to realize there’s something warm, and moist bubbling up in your eyes. Your hand reached up to wipe some of it away, registering the liquid as tears instead of really weird rain that hit your eyes without you noticing.

Tears. Crying. You were crying.

Crying is human, right?

You followed the next logical course of action. You took some of those tears that were now making their way down your cheeks and mingling with the downpour, and you smudged them unceremoniously on the sides of his face. Very subtle. That should work, right? It has to. You’re tired. You being tired means this game is over, you’ve won, or have to win. You always won. If you don’t, everyone else loses because you quit and there can be no winner that’s not you. However, nothing was happening. He was still unresponsive. The only thing that’d changed was the fact he had your disgusting tears on his cheeks. That had to have worked. It had to, it wasn’t allowed not to from the minute you figured out you were crying. Yet, there he sat. What do you do? What could you do?

You had nothing else.

Now, you got angry again. It was an anger that made your throat clench, made you cry more, too, you noticed, as more tears started to prick your eyes in the same unfamiliar way. He should wake the fuck up already. Game’s over, bucko, you thought, unable to push the words through your strangled vocal chords. You needed to win now. You didn’t lose. You couldn’t lose. Except.

You had.

You’d lost because this was one game you couldn’t cheat, lie, or burn your way out of. You’d lost because all you were was a monster who couldn’t give anyone something of emotional or sentimental worth. Even this scrappy, unfeeling asshole could see that under all that fucking hair of his, that’s why he wasn’t responding. He knew what you were. The epiphany came to you as you grew more and more frustrated. You screeched and tugged at your ears so hard that the pain it brought shocked you out of your thoughts for a moment.

And you stopped. You sagged down where you were kneeling on the dirty, muddy ground. At that point you couldn’t care less about your clothes. Or his clothes. Or anyone’s clothes for that matter. You hoped this rain fucked over everyone without an umbrella, in fact. Right now, you wanted to cry like a child. The child you really were, deep down. You were crying like a child, actually. Your nose began running as you gazed up at him again with eyes that definitely weren’t wet from the rain. Your hand rose in a very deliberate motion to touch his cheek with just the tips of your tiny, sharpened claws. Finally, you whispered something you never thought you’d hear come out of your own mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

It came out cracked, and weak. It sounded very bizarre coming from you. However, there was an unmistakable tone of defeat in it. You knew when you’d been beaten. It’s about time, you thought, with your ass sliding to the ground. You pulled your knees to your chest. You hid your face in your hands like a mourning statue. A dreadful kind of shame filled you. You’d failed. This was how failure tasted. Knowing that you could kill without a second glance, and the one time you’d wanted to save someone, you’d failed. You destroyed. Not mended. Not helped. Destroyed. That was that.

Man, failure tasted gross.

There was no sound as you retreated into yourself. Even the rain seemed muffled around you. You sat there, your mind blank, next to a dying person. Not the first time that’d happened, though admittedly it’d never happened quite like this. The sadness inside you welled, a fresh batch of tears spilling over your cheeks. It was a profound sense of sorrow, strong enough that it was nearly warm, a hot feeling of shame in your stomach. You were so wrapped up in your grief, you didn’t see the strange light that silently flowed from you to the almost lifeless form across from you. The light flickered out as quickly as it came, with you none the wiser. It was followed by a brief shuffling noise, and something that sounded like someone gasping quietly, as if it was the first breath they’d taken in a very long time.

You elected to ignore the noises, too withdrawn at this point to pick yourself up and look. It grew silent again. Whoever had made the noise before seemed to say something, though you couldn’t tell what it was, or if it was even talking or not, but they promptly ceased. Then, something warm extended to you to touch your shoulder. It elicited an involuntary shiver from you. If that person killed you then and there, you probably deserved it. You didn’t fight back, despite your instincts screaming at you to try. The touching didn’t stop, but it didn’t start to hurt either. In fact, you heard more shuffling and there was more warmth touching you, holding you. It embraced you until you didn’t even feel the rain anymore, just the warmth of that stranger against you. Your mind made itself up for you, and your weary face lifted itself from the shroud of your hands to find an unfamiliar visage smiling back at it.

“Hello there, miss. My name is Markiin. Allow me to extend my sincerest apologies for keeping you waiting.”

[e350tb]

Steven Universe: Marooned Together - Chapter Thirty-Four

(thanks as always to @real-fakedoors for proofreading)

Whatever one might say about the general competence of the Human Resistance, they were at least capable of barricading a street.

The main street from the museum to the docks, never that wide to begin with, had been locked down into chokepoints and defensive walls made of scrap and wood. At the end of the street, just before the dockyard itself, the Resistance had set up a machine gun post - it’s position allowed it to practically dominate the entire avenue.

As a result, when Stevonnie and their friends emerged onto the road, they were immediately met by withering gun and laser fire. The fusion ducked down, scampering behind a dumpster.

Slowly, they raised their shield up - it was immediately met by a burst of machine gun fire.

“Okay,” they said, “Not gonna be easy…”

“Argh!”

Peedee slammed into the dumpster next to them, clutching his arm. Stevonnie winced and fought their gag reflex - a bullet had gone into his left arm, and the wound now oozed blood. Peedee seemed almost not to notice - he was tugging on the bottom of his shirt with his right hand.

“Peedee, are you…”

There was a loud rip as Peedee tore off part of his shirt, handing the fragment to Stevonnie.

“Tie this ‘round my arm,” he said, “It’s gonna have to be a bandage for now.”

“Peedee, you can’t…”

“They have Jeff,” reminded Peedee, “So yes, I can.”

Stevonnie nodded, taking the rag and beginning to wrap it around Peedee’s arm.

There was a dull clang as Blue brought the crowbar down on the soldier’s helmet. He didn’t cry out or moan, but fell down like a puppet with its strings cut.

Blue stared down at the unconscious man, a strange sense of exhilaration running through her. Pearls did not fight, especially not against authority figures, and yet here she was, resisting them, standing up for herself. It was terrifying. It was obscene.

It was liberating. It was thrilling.

“Mike? What was that noise?”

She heard the footsteps of the other soldier as she returned to the apartment basement. She held the crowbar tighter - just one more. She could do this. Briskly, she slipped behind the doorframe.

The soldier walked in, glancing down at her fallen comrade.

“Mike? The fuck is-”

CLANG.

She fell face first to the ground.

For a few moments, Blue stood there, taking stock of her situation. The terror was giving way, submerged by this strange sense of freedom. If her Diamond could see her now.

No. Not her Diamond. Not anymore.

She knelt down, picking up the soldier’s weapon. It was a short ‘firearm’ as the humans called it - mostly metal, with a big drum sticking out the bottom. An inscription was written on the side - ‘Thompson Machine Carbine.’ She wondered if she should use it.

“Mike? Lauren?”

A voice echoed from outside the apartment.

Yes, Blue thought - it might be worth using.

Captain Franks was marched out onto the dockyard, an eerie sort of finality ringing in the air. Gunfire, shouts, mechanisms moving and destroying - he could hear it all ring out in the distance, dulled beneath his roaring pulse. It kept time with his boots, a metronome of cacophonous pace, like a runner sprinting the last leg of a race with the knowledge the journey was almost over.

His feet fell in sharp steps, disciplined like a soldier.

It was fitting, he supposed, that he would be disciplined like a soldier at the very end, too. He took some pride in it - he knew nobody watching had any respect for him anymore, but he could at least be respectable to himself.

Those human denizens of New Earth that hadn’t joined the ‘renegades’ fighting just a block away had been forced to attend the solemn occasion - the executions of two of the ‘arch-traitors of New Earth.’

There was no applause, no booing, nothing. Those who supported the Human Resistance regarded the sight with quiet approval - those who didn’t turned their faces away, unable to make a sound. The sound of the Captain’s footsteps on the concrete floor was eerie, ethereal, silent but deafening.

Commander Lewis walked behind, flanked by two others, her face set in grim satisfaction as they reached the makeshift stake - really a lamppost. Quietly, her underlings set about tying Franks to the post, while four troopers marched out in front of him, rifles in their arms.

“Captain Lewis?”

Lewis turned. The officer on the left was taking his hand off his earpiece.

“Pro-Gem elements are advancing this way,” he said, “We’ve got them locked down on the main street.”

“Keep them there,” replied Lewis.

She pursed her lips.

“Bring out Fryman,” she added, “We’ll do both at once.”

“You don’t think our men can hold them?” asked the officer.

Lewis shot him a meaningful look.

“Yes ma’am,” he said hurriedly, “Of course, ma’am. Bringing him up now, ma’am.”

He hurried away. Lewis frowned after him, arms crossed.

Perhaps it was wrong to lack faith in her soldiers, her loyal underlings. But as an officer, she’d learned the lessons of experience - and sometimes, that meant showing a little discretion.

Another pillar of dirty water shot high into the air, raining down on the troopers below. Lapis summoned forth another mighty, liquescent fist, ready to slam into the machine gun post - she frowned as it came out much smaller than expected, serving only to drench the crew, not knock them out.

“Come on,” she growled, “Where’s the rest of it?!”

“I think you used most of the sewer water on the museum goons,” replied Jenny, huddled under a crate that had been pushed into the street, “Can’t you gather that gunk up?”

“I could, but it takes time,” replied Lapis, “How long do we-”

There was a long burst of fire - not a ratatatat, but a long ripping sound that made Lapis wince. Across the street, she saw Stevonnie behind a wooden barricade that was barely tall enough for them to crouch behind. The gun fired again, and bullets bounced off the wooden surface - they winced, pushing their shield up to protect their head.

“Stevonnie!”

Lapis bolted across the road. The rip came again, and she heard the cracks of bullets shooting past - crack! Whip! Crack! She dove down next to Stevonnie, huddling behind the wooden panelling.

“Lapis, what’re you doing?” demanded Stevonnie.

“I-I don’t know, you needed help!” replied Lapis.

“You could’ve been poofed!”

“I…”

Lapis shook her head, pushing herself further down to avoid the Resistance’s fire.

“I can’t leave you to get hurt,” she said, “Not again. We do this together, Stevonnie.”

“Lapis…”

“When I said I loved you,” continued Lapis, “I… I meant it! And maybe that makes things different, and maybe this is dumb, but I… I want to be with you, Stevonnie! Because… because…”

Stevonnie nodded, taking her hands.

“...because your my partner,” they said.

“Yeah,” replied Lapis, “And I love you.”

There was a momentary silence, save of course for the sound of battle. Eventually, however, Stevonnie’s face twisted into a grin.

“Lapis,” they said, “Do you trust me?”

Lapis glanced down at Stevonnie’s gem, jaw dropping slightly as she saw it begin to glow. Was this… did they… should she…

Lapis looked back up and nodded determinedly.

“Let’s do it.”

Even for a Lapis Lazuli, gathering moisture from the ground can be time consuming. It’s not hard, not even slightly, but separating water molecules from dirt can be a long job. So it was therefore concerning to the Human Resistance when all of that dampness from Lapis’ first attack simply lifted into the air - or it would have been, had all eyes not been drawn to a far flashier sight.

An amorphous blob of light, swirling and warping beautifully, lifted up from behind one of the barricades. All fire ceased - Jenny, Buck and Peedee gazed up in awe, the Resistance in shock, and Garnet? Garnet was beaming.

The form that emerged was about twice as tall as Stevonnie, with light purple skin, strong, thick arms and legs. They wore a sleeveless high-collared jacket - purple with a thick pale yellow line under the collar and a purple ribbon behind. They had a black belt, and a lighter purple dress over heavy boots. Their hair was poofy and fluffy, about shoulder length, and pale freckles lined their face. Slowly, they looked down at their body, testing their arms, their legs and their face.

They closed their eyes and smiled.

“Beryl,” they said, their voice soft and quiet, “My name is Beryl.”

They looked behind them, at the flowing wall of water slowly rising into the air, and then back to the Human Resistance, still staring in stunned silence. They floated upwards, wings emerging from their back.

“You have my friend,” they said matter-of-factly.

The officer in charge shook his head and pointed at them, his face read.

“What’re you waiting for?!” he thundered, “Fire!”

Beryl threw their hands forward.

The wall of water burst outwards, flying over their friends and down onto the Human Resistance. It swept them aside like bowling pins, sending them hurtling towards the dockyard…

“Ready…”

The firing squad stood before Captain Franks and Jeff, their weapons at the ready. Lewis crossed her arms as she waited for the moment. Franks stared at the floor, unable to meet their eyes - Jeff stared them down, bound fists clenched as crescent moon impressions dug into his palms.

“Aim…”

“You’ll never win,” hissed Jeff.

“Oh, we will,” sneered Lewis.

“F…”

There was the sound of a gate being kicked open, followed by a long burst of gunfire. The firing squad hit the dirt, and Lewis ducked behind a crate.

Blue Pearl stood at the main entrance to the docks, carrying a Tommy Gun. She had just fired it into the air to attract their attention; she wore a somewhat frightened, somewhat wild scowl. She swallowed visibly as the guns of the Human Resistance trained on her, but stood her ground.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” demanded Lewis.

“I… I’m… I’m rebelling,” she replied.

Lewis nodded, clapping sarcastically.

“Bravo,” she said, “Men, open…”

She trailed off, a deep rumbling in the air. The ground beneath her began to shake.

“Oh god,” she muttered, “What the hell, no-”

A wave of brown water smashed through the gate of the dockyard, neatly skipping over Blue and the audience and roaring straight for Lewis and her soldiers. She screamed in terror and frustration, grabbing the sides of the crate as the watery sledgehammer smashed down. For a moment, all was dirty brown - the putrid taste streaming around her nostrils and mouth, the force threatening to tear her free from her only anchor…

Then it was done, and she was lying on the concrete floor, coughing and spluttering and looking up in shock and horror at the figure hovering before them.

Beryl looked down on her, a frown on their face. They seemed not angry but disappointed, even a little frustrated, like a teacher dealing with an out-of-control kindergartener. They crossed their arms and shook their head.

“It’s over, Lewis,” they said, “You’ve lost.”

Lewis scowled, reaching for her gun.

“If you think the Human Resistance is going down without a fight, you’ve got another thing…”

“If you wanna not get shot at with disrupted cannons, I’d recommend you don’t do that.”

Lewis turned around, her eyes wide. A golden ship hovered above the dockyards, its weapons trained on the gathered Resistance. She had seen it once before, in the very, very early days of New Earth - a stolen ship, piloted by a pink human.

The Sun Incinerator.

“God, I can’t believe I’m happy to see Lars.”

Peedee had pushed his way through the crowd to join Beryl, his friends not far behind.

“Never!” exclaimed Lewis, “We will never surrender! We will fight you on the…”

There was a series of clacks, and Lewis looked around. One by one, each member of the Resistance was dropping their weapon and slowly raising their hands.

“...no… no, no, no, no, NOOO!” Lewis bellowed, “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be defending humanity!”

She gesticulated wildly in Beryl’s direction.

“They took everything from us!” she thundered, “They took our home! They took our lives! They took… they took my family! Don’t you care?! Don’t you care about how far down they’ve torn us?! DON’T YOU CARE?!”

“I do.”

Lewis looked up at Beryl. They had lowered down now, and were kneeling down next to her.

“I lost both my dads and my mom,” they explained, “I… I saw them…”

They wiped their eyes.

“I do care,” they said, “I care every day. But then we found each other…”

They glowed, splitting back into two forms, still holding hands.

“I found Lapis,” Stevonnie continued, “And we… we moved on. I’m still sad about it, everyone is, but… we have to move on.”

“But you don’t understand!” shouted Lewis, “You’re a hybrid! A freak! I…”

“Lewis.”

Peedee stepped up, striding purposefully towards Lewis, gun in hand and face set into a scowl.

“I lost everything too,” he said, “I lost my dad. I lost my brother. I lost my truck. But you know what? All these gems you hate - they helped me rebuild my life. That arch-traitor you want to shoot? He was only light I had for a long, long time. So don’t you dare - don’t you dare assume to know who doesn’t care.”

“Fryman, I…”

Peedee raised his gun, pressing it to her temple.

“Peedee, don’t!” exclaimed Stevonnie.

Peedee stood there, finger on the trigger, glaring down at the pale, shaking form of Lewis.

“You take a ship,” he said, “And you leave. And if you ever, ever come near my husband again, I swear to god I won’t be so hesitant.”

He lowered his gun and turned away.

Garnet had just finished untying Jeff - the mayor of New Earth raced over to Peedee, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Peedee! I thought… I thought I’d never see you again!” he exclaimed.

“Jeff, never scare me like that again, okay?” asked Peedee.

“I promise…”

Peedee leaned forward, pulling Jeff into a kiss. The crowd around them broke into applause as they savoured the moment, losing themselves in sweet, sweet relief.

Shaking his head, Franks climbed to his feet. He looked around at the confusion and wreckage, sighing heavily.

“I think it goes without saying that the Human Resistance is dissolved,” he said.

“Franks,” replied Jenny, “That might be the first smart thing you’ve ever done.”

[fandomseverywhereassemble]

With the bingo, can you do Public torture with Keith from Voltron? I love my child but I love angst so here am as one cruel mother

Anonymous asked: If you’re taking requests for your bingo: would you be up for public execution/torture featuring Keith (Voltron)?

I was actually really excited for this one because I love Keith’s angst.  Don’t get me wrong, I love Langst, but Keith is just begging for some angst.  So here you two are.  I’m still taking requests as well.

Also: a bit of a warning, there is a lot of cursing.  (At least for me)

Bang!

“Let us see him!”

“You can’t keep him locked away like this!”

“I’m sorry, paladins, but you may not see your friend.”

“It’s been three days!”

Huh.  Three days?  It felt like so much longer to Keith.  The darkness made everything worse.  It made the beats of his heart seem longer.  It made the hours seem longer.  It made his breathing seem long and weak like he was already dead.

“You can’t just bar him away from us.”  That must have been Shiro.  Shiro, who was always watching out for the team and making sure that they didn’t do anything wrong.

Well, that did so much for him now, didn’t it?

“We can, and we will, black paladin.  Your red paladin has broken one of our cardinal rules.”

“He was trying to save one of your people!”

“Lance, calm down.”  That was Shiro again, “Yelling isn’t going to solve anything at all.  Our best bet is to just wait until he’s released.”

“And how long is that going to take?”  Lance again, there was an alarming amount of concern in his voice, “It took us three days to get this far and we still don’t know what’s going to happen or how long he’s going to be in there.  I think that we’ve waited long enough.”

Keith tried to call out, and tell them that he was alright, but his voice was hoarse and scratchy.  Out of all the luxuries he had been given: a single cell, a bucket to piss and shit in, cold handcuffs to make sure he couldn’t sleep right, and a lightbulb that occasionally flipped on to burn his eyes with its light, water had not been one of them.

Neither had food now that he thought about it.  The cold stone floor was as much of a bed as he could hope for.

Why was he even being punished anyway?  He hadn’t known that touching was considered incredibly offensive on this planet!  He hadn’t known that grabbing that child’s hand was the equivalent of having sex with them.  What were they?  Fucking Vulcans?

He had saved that girl’s life and all he got for it was to be locked up in a cell for three days.  Three fucking days.  He didn’t deserve this.

“Keith!  Keith was that you?”  Lance shouted down and there was a bustle up towards the top.  Keith smiled vaguely as he pictured the blue paladin trying to push his way past the guards and into the prison.

“Yeah.”  He called back, but his voice cracked in the middle of it and made him sound a whole lot worse for wear than he actually was.

A Clang! echoed against the barren walls of Keith’s cell as his guard hit his weapon against the bars.  The weapon was shaped like some sort of crescent that was sharpened on both sides, and there was a short dagger that poked up through the center of it.  Keith had eyed it warily when he had first arrived on the planet, but now that he was closer, he realized that it was just a really inefficient design made to look intimidating.

The guard wasn’t even taking good care of it, the metal was tarnished around the hilt and wherever the two different pieces of metal met.  Keith took much better care of his weapons.  He wouldn’t be caught dead with tarnish on his blades.

“You, keep your mouth shut, klanzit.”  The guard spat at him.  He actually spit, there were new spots of moisture on his face that Keith wasn’t able to wipe off.  The guard quietly continued, “You will keep your mouth shut until you can’t help but cry out.”

Keith’s eyes darkened and he clumsily made his way to his feet.  When they were both standing, he could tell that he was taller than the guard by at least a head.  For a millisecond, the guard emitted an aura of pure fear, who wouldn’t when a paladin of Voltron was hovering over you, and giving you his undivided attention.

Then, he hit his blade on the bars again, hard enough to send sparks up.  He laughed when Keith flinched away, trying to shake the afterimage effects from his eyes.  “You try and act so high and mighty now, but in two days, you won’t be shit.”

Footsteps reverberated down the stairs, probably another guard to change shifts.  As he left, he let his blade drag against the wall and created a sound reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard.  Goosebumps rose across Keith’s skin and he waited until the guard was completely gone before he shivered.

At least he knew that in two days he would get out.  Two more days of taunting, cold, and darkness.

Keith settled down to wait.

“Get up, klanzit.”  It was another guard this time.  Keith had started calling the three of them names by the weapons they carried.  This was Clean Blade, because his blade was flawless.  Keith doubted that he had ever swung it maliciously in his life.

Clean Blade sneered at him, “I told you to get up.”

Keith tried to get up, he really did, but he still hadn’t been given water.  He really should have been dead and he sure as hell wasn’t going to spend the rest of his energy just to save the guard a bit of extra energy.

Cursing, Clean Blade unlocked his cell and his handcuffs.  He must have not been very scared of a dehydrated, malnourished human.  Keith just… didn’t want to fight.  That was it.  He wasn’t too weak to even fight back here.  That wasn’t it at all.

The guard laughed as he tossed Keith over his shoulder easily, “Look at the klanzit now.  You aren’t so scary now that you’re weak.”  He turned and exited the cell.  The keys on his waist jangled as they climbed the stairs.

“I’ve got him.”  Clean Blade said, Keith could tell from his voice that he was smiling smugly as if he had fought some great battle and hadn’t just picked the red paladin off of the floor.

Weathered Blade stepped up to him.  Her blade was the most used.  There were nicks on the metal that spoke of war experience.  She was the one whom Keith was the most afraid of.

She grabbed his head in her hands and turned it so that he could see her face, “Are you ready for today?  You get one of the best punishments our little planet has to offer.”  She smiled sweetly, but her scarred face made it seem nothing but sinister.

She looked at Tarnished Blade, “Go ahead and skin his hands before we go out there.  We can’t have it look like he came out of our Prisons unharmed.”

Keith felt his own eyes widen, what type of barbaric shit was this?  He had saved a little girl’s life.  He wasn’t going to be able to hold a weapon in his hands for months.  The smile on Weathered Blade’s face let him know that she knew exactly what that meant for him; his blades had been confiscated on the first day.  They all knew his weapon of choice.

“You fuckers”  He tried to say to them, but all that came out was raspy air that set off a coughing fit.  How long had it been?  Five days?  Five days without food or water was really taking its toll on his throat which was dry as a desert.

Tarnished Blade smiled at him before looking up at Clean Blade, “You can drop him now.”  And Keith was on the ground.  He didn’t even have it in him to groan.  Not when he hit the ground, and not when Tarnished took his tarnished blade to the skin of Keith’s palm and pulled.

He panted heavily and tried to pull his arm away, but the blade only cut deeper and deeper, and the hand anchoring him in place was too strong and he was too weak.  He just grit his teeth and tried not to let the tears spring from his eyes; he would not give them that satisfaction.

In the end, he was left with two blocks of bloody flesh that vaguely resembled hands, and eyes full of unshed tears.

“Get him up and out there.”  Weathered smiled, “The people want to see the klanzit’s pain.”

Keith was hauled viciously to his feet by his hands and he bit back a cry of pain.  Sandwiched between them, Keith was forced along down the path and up towards the surface.  As they got higher and higher up, Keith could hear people.  A lot of people.  There were jeers and boos that got louder and louder as they neared the top.

Doors in front of him opened and for a few moments, he was blinded by the sheer amount of light that assaulted his eyes.  It was so bright that for a moment, he forgot about the throbbing pain in his hands for the sharp pain in his eyes.

Before him stood thousands of people.  Thousands of people that had come to watch… whatever was going to happen to him.  As he was moved along, he saw four figures in white armor standing near the front.  The rest of his team was standing in an area cordoned off from the rest of the population.  They were being watched to make sure they didn’t try and free him from whatever was about to happen.

As he watched them, he saw Pidge cover their mouth with their hands when they saw his bloody hands.  Hunk turned around to try and avoid looking but was quickly pushed back around to watch.  Lance’s fists balled up at his sides, his knuckles were white.  And Shiro…

Shiro looked furious.  His eyes were dark with hatred and everything about his posture screamed that he was going to attack.  His hands twitched at his sides, wanting desperately to summon his bayard.  Keith looked him straight in the eyes before he shook his head, no, that would only make it worse.

Weathered Blade stepped to the front of the platform, was she some type of big general or something like that?  She began a speech in her own language first, pausing at the appropriate times and waiting for the crowd to quiet before she began.  Was she a public speaker now too?

After she was done, she continued in English for the paladins to hear, “The red paladin of Voltron, Keith Kogane, has committed one of the most heinous crimes of our people.  In order for him to rectify himself, he must endure five days devoid of nourishment and sixty lashings in the set of twenty threes.  After all sixty lashings have been delivered, he will be released back to the remaining paladins of Voltron, whether he lives or dies.  If any have any objections to the ways of this planet, please, speak up now.”  She smiled her scarred smile.

All of them looked like they wanted to speak up.  Every single one looked as if they were on the verge of spouting out how unjust his treatment was, but Keith shook his head.  If he survived this, then there might be a chance of repairing these burned bridges at a later time.  If they tried to stop this, then there would be no chance that this planet would join the coalition.

After seeing that no one had any objections to the treatment, Weathered Blade spoke again, “Then we may begin.”  A roar went up from the crowd.  Not just a cheer, a roar these people were here to see the red paladin bleed.

The guard stepped down from her perch on the platform and she addressed Keith privately, “You will die today, red paladin.  No matter what you and your friends may believe.  You will die.”  She smiled again.  That smile was going to mock him in his nightmares, “Now remove your armor.  You may keep your undergarments, but everything else must go.”

Keith glared back at her, but the sun was getting to him and he was so thirsty and so, so tired.  What did she want him to do?

She gestured to Clean Blade and Tarnished Blade.  One of them held him still while the other ripped the shirt from his body.  “You can remove your pants.”  Weathered told him, “Or we can have my friends here do it for you, and they will not be gentle.”

Keith scowled back at her, but it was getting more and more difficult to concentrate on her words.  Weathered Blade gestured again and Clean Blade took his weapon, shining in the bright light and none too gently slashed a line down one pant leg.  Keith held in a hiss of pain and he squeezed his eyes shut to avoid looking at the dark line of red that ran from the meat of his thigh to his ankle.

He repeated the same action on the other side, and all of a sudden, Keith was practically naked in front of thousands of aliens and the friends he had made over the last few months.

“You may hold onto this stick to keep yourself upright as long as you can.”  She told him as she motioned to a wooden, splintered pole standing vertically in the middle of the platform.  She smiled again, “That is if you want to cause any more damage to your hands.”

She smiled too much for someone so cruel.

Keith was manhandled to the center, right in front of the pole, and he didn’t even have it in himself to fight against their grip.  He heard the crack of the whip and raised his eyes enough to see a vicious looking flog.  It was made of three separate pieces of leather with a piece of polished metal affixed to the end of the middle strand.

Only one thought went through Keith’s mind at the sight this was going to fucking hurt.

The first strike was fire and he grabbed on to the pole in front of him to keep himself from falling over.  He felt the splinters slide in along his bloody palm, but he only gripped it harder.  Warm liquid dribbled down his back in rivulets.  At this moment, he knew that he would die.

The second strike struck him vertically and he couldn’t bite back the gasp of pain that burst from his lips.  He bit down on his lip.  If he was going to cry, it wasn’t going to be now.

The third strike surprised him.  It was so quick after the second and the piece of metal finally did what it was supposed to do.  It dug into the flesh of his back and tore a layer of skin straight from his back.

Keith glanced up, straight into Lance’s blue, blue, eyes.  Hunk was beside him trying to wipe away tears as quickly as they were coming to fruition.  Pidge didn’t cry about the tears streaming down their face.  They watched with such a fierceness in their gaze that Keith almost forgot about where he was.

Almost, until the fourth strike.  Keith saw Pidge’s lower lip tremble and he saw them mouth to him, “I can’t lose another brother.”  Shiro wasn’t looking at him.  He was looking at the person who was holding the weapon, and if looks could kill, Shiro could have committed genocide.

He was twenty percent done.  Twenty percent.  He just had to endure everything he just had four more times.  That thought brought him back to Lance’s eyes, which were so blue in their color and their feelings.  The tears only made them more vibrant.

The fifth strike descended and Keith felt the pain overtake him.