#rip my prev pinned you will be missed

[themundanemudperson]

Figured I'd finally get around to making an actual intro post lol (here is my previous pinned. it is a beloved post and you should look at it)

But anyways

Heyo! I'm Mundane, my pronouns are she/her, and I'm aroace

This is a multifandom blog, and at the moment is mostly AFTG, Power Rangers (link to post with all the seasons I've seen), Super Sentai (link to post with all the seasons I've seen), DC Comics, as well as a smattering of other things

I write, make edits, and have made like 2 pieces of fanart (both of which were not the greatest)

Anywho. Feel free to shoot me an ask/DM whenever. I'm a better listener than yapper but come talk to meeee. If you want my Discord, message me and I'll give it to you

Tagging system:

I don't really stick to it that much but eh

#life's mundanity - basically my original posts tag

#mundane writes - what it says on the tin

#mundane edits - you guessed it! edits!

#mundane arts - drawings that I've done plus some calligraphy and the occasional mood board

Ao3 | Youtube | Pinterest | My Boy Girlfriend Discord Server

As always, my inbox is open! Come yap at me

[d8tl55c]

oo almost missed this one

agree with prevs- especially, "i havent experienced the same horror from tdl" in that it's about how they're framed to me.

TDL is almost disconnected from what he does. it's what he's good at, and he clearly cares about doing his best, but there's something missing behind those invisible eyes. the way he still carries himself like a happy kid going about his business making his plans better and better while TCO is constantly bombarded by moral implications and sentimental flashbacks. TDL does some messed up things (potentially a LOT of messed up things, we still don't know how long their attacks lasted) (but specifically i was thinking about how he executes Red and kicks the slowly deleting pile of code that remained), but he's not trying to cause maximum suffering. he just wants everyone less important to him out of his way, like they're annoying NPCs. he lets the remaining CG fight him but he doesn't let them flop around helplessly and realize all is futile and grovel at his feet, he takes the fight in close and wipes the floor with them as fast as possible, getting rid of them the instant they stop being a cute little diversion. like seeing how fast you can kill a wave of enemies in a video game, or when i meet a lizard in rain world and im not in the mood for messing around and so perform the optimal moves to stab-rock-stun it repeatedly. there's a disconnect. there's a lack of ...malice, i don't know what else to call it. even if i do the most terrible thing i can think of and pin a green lizard to a wall to watch it squirm and flash as if terrified of being unable to escape the incoming rain i know im dealing with a simulation, where i can act out a cruel thing upon a simulated creature that was never alive. it's a coldness that comes from disconnect: i think that it is not a person.

Victim on the other hand is actively hunting for fear. and absolutely connected to those they hurt. everything they do is calculated to let cho think he has a chance, and definitively rip that hope away in the most unsettling ways possible. slowly approaching, only revealing the danger when it's too late to stop it, letting tension build every time until cho feels forced to act first. their "fight" has no purpose other than to make cho squirm. Victim is fully aware of the person they are dealing with, and they are leveraging that fact to break him.

i think im missing something- this is my first time thinking about this this hard so ima reiterate one of the things i was trying to get at: how they choose to fight.

stick figures fighting is "[just what they do]" as stated once before kinda like that on an AvG ep., by alan, so them choosing to express themselves that way isn't abnormal. it's how they choose to go about it.

what we see of dark in action tells us that he is brutally efficient and seems to have no feelings whatsoever about the people he kills (it gives, "...does he know they're people too???" vibes).

what we see of victim in action is viscerally creepy and confusing from what we expected and shocking, and we see that they know what they're doing. they're doing it on purpose. they get upset when their machinations are interrupted, not just because they lost control but maybe because they know they almost had him- it's WEIRD and i still don't know how to write them because of it. i recoil from what they have become and i can't decide whether to see them as completely insane or so outside of my knowledge of kind and reasonable people that. i. idk. i guess they just suck? i have no idea where to place them and i suppose tdl frolicking through the fires of his own making oblivious to whoever might be choking in the smoke is more enticing somehow. sometimes humans do cruel shit for fun, or a purpose they think is right and have tunnel vision around, and they can grow out of that, it happens all the time. i want to understand, but i have no idea what kind of creature victim is. ;;

Random thought: does anyone know why the Ava fandom is more forgiving to TDL than Victim? I've been thinking and they're very similar really (both harmed TCO and TSC in a quest to defeat Alan)

I'm just curious because they're seen as two completely different characters

[bluwurld]

How would bully Satosugu react to you wearing a short sundress??? 🤔

SUNDRESS SAFETY

Prev — Next

Pairings: bully!satosugu x fem reader

Tags — dubcon! groping, thigh fucking, Implied virginity loss, public sex, size difference, corruption kink, slight choking, multiple orgasms (reader), creampie kinda? Just pussy drunk gojo !!!!!

Work count — 1.9k

Why the fuck are we here again?”

Gojo rolled his eyes despite them being concealed behind his signature jet-black frames. The last thing he wanted to do during summer break was to be dragged into some god forsaken library, the contrast of the cheerful bustling streets outside suddenly shifting into an almost eerie quietude made his skin crawl. He hated how melancholy and deserted the place looked, yet here he was, tapping his foot against the hardwood floor, impatient yet still managing to wait for his best friend to respond.

Suguru just smiled, paying the man no mind as he made his way over to the philosophical department. And Satoru, in defiance of his rapidly growing exasperation, followed behind like second nature.

"Pleeeeaassee Suguru I don't wanna spend all my youth in a dingy place like this" Gojo whined, slinging his arms over Suguru's broad shoulders, all 6ft3 of him dangling there like a toddler. "I'm too pretty to be going through this.

Geto glanced at is watch, unphased. "Twelve minutes in a library won't kill you."

"you don't know that! this place smells like death."

"Satoru"

"old people too, oddly."

"Satoru" Geto repeated, this time tapping him on the hand to grab his attention.

"shut up I'm not letting you go until you-"

"Look."

He groaned as if in actual pain. Shifting his attention farther into the distance.

"Is that-“

"It is.”

“...and you’d think after last time she’d steer clear of libraries”, Gojo muttered under his breath “fuck look at that tiny dress on her”

“still wanna leave?" Geto deried, cracking a grin.

You had your back turned to them, peacefully surveying one of the nearby bookshelves. You looked so adorable prancing around in your awfully short sundress, so blissfully unaware and yet begging to be attended to.

You smiled to yourself once you finally spotted your volume of interest, streching up to your tip toes in an attempt to try and grab it off the tall shelf. But your joy was short lived. The giddy feeling being abruptly ripped from you and replaced by dread, settling into the pit of your stomach when you felt someone grope you from under your dress.

Another shadow towered over you, his hand easily extending and taking the book you'd been trying to reach for. The men were so big they made the bookshelf look small in comparison.

A yelp escaped you when the unknown man fondling you pushed further into you, pinning your front to the bookshelf.

"Hi there, slut." Gojo murmured in your ear, the hair on your nape standing straight in response. It took you a moment but once you looked past the thick veil of your anxiousness and recognized who it was, you visibly relaxed.

"You just crumpled againt the bookshelf sweetheart," he teased, reaching forward to cup your face with one large hand, squishing the fat of ur soft cheeks between his fingers and making you look back at him. Simultainously, the hand that had been slipped under your dress, hooked into the waist band of your panties with devilish intent. "missed me that much huh?"

God were you wrong to be relieved. Gojo and Geto were far worse than just some creepy stranger. It’s not like you’d ever be able to escape the hold they had on you. Just hearing their voice made you weak in the knees for reasons beyond your understanding.

“Love these pretty thighs.” Gojo mumbled into your neck, “so fucking soft.”

He had you placed in his lap, you felt a hot blush creep up to your face everytime someone walked past and inevitably looked your way. Perhaps it was because you were in the company of the two most handsome men they’d ever seen or maybe, just maybe everyone could tell what Gojo was doing to you under the table.

Surely they couldnt tell that he had his cock nestled between your thighs. But just the thought had you trembling. Because he was being so careless, sliding himself against the wet folds of your cunt, his drooling tip occasionally grinding into your sensitive clit. it was too humiliating, too mean. Being used as his little fidget while he waited for Geto to stop browsing and reading, seemingly to no end. Playing with you because he couldn’t stand being bored.

Your breath hitched when you felt his hand wrap around your neck. Manhandling you closer until your back was pressed flush against his chest.

“It’s okay if I fuck you right?”

You were still processing his words when you felt the head of his thick cock poking at your entrance.

“No wait we’ve- we’ve never” you stuttered, panic-stricken. Neither of them had ever taken it this far.

Sure your pussy was the wettest it’d ever been, and the delicious friction from his cock made you feel oddly dizzy, like you were melting in his lap. But that didn’t mean you weren’t scared.

“C’mon, just the tip?” He gave your throat a gentle squeeze, making you gasp. His other hand sliding between your thighs to rub teasing circles against your swollen clit. “promise I’ll be gentle.”

He made you look up at him, tilting your head up by the grasp he still had on your throat. You felt so small under his half-lidded gaze, like you were at his mercy and that too only when and if he felt like it.

“I’m asking nicely aren’t I?”

“B-But” you tried so hard but you couldn't think at all, his touch felt too good to resist.

"She's gonna cum if you keep going." Geto"s voice startled you, like you'd completely forgotten where you were. He gave you a quick glance before returning to his matters. He was right you were too occupied dealing with the various other emotions that were swirling in your hazy mind to notice how the coil that had formed in the pit of your belly grew tighter and hotter by the second. "You're gonna wanna cover that pretty mouth Toru."

You don't know if it were the sudden realization that people were watching, that Geto was watching, his darkened eyes hungry like you'd never seen before, staring right into yours, but it made you snap, an unexpected orgasm crashing down on you.

A moan slipped past your lips before Gojo muffled your sweet little noises into the palm of his hand, the grip around your neck unconciously tightening, only adding to the euphoric feeling.

"fuck, quiet." He chuckled against your ear. "Such a selfish little slut, cuming all by yourself."

You collapsed the second he loosened his hold, your upper half splayed against the table.

"m'not done princess." You whimpered, feeling his tip bully it's way inside you, immediately resorting to begging.

"p-please, you can do what-whatever you want, just not here-please”

"Wrong." he grinned, fully pushing into you in one rough thrust. " fuck, so…tight"

"Sa-toru," you whined, still out of breath. “hurts.”

"shut up, you're the one trying to cut my dick off, stop fucking squeezing so hard." He stilled, whether it was intended to give you time to adjust to his size or not, you were grateful regardless.

Your pleading fell upon deaf ears once he finally started thrusting upwards, your hot gummy insides were wrapping around him so perfectly, clenching and gushing around his cock with every roll of his hips. He was so drunk on you. Already way past caring if he got caught or not.

And it only got worse once the library started getting vacant again. Because it meant he could fuck into you more freely. Could bend and ply you into any and every position his heart desired. And having you over the table seemed to do the trick, his rough pace made the wooden furnishing rattle, like it was at it’s breaking point, much like you were.

“Too b-big! you’re too big,” he couldn’t even hear your pathetic babbling anymore, too focused on chasing his own high “toru-please slow down”

“Ah! toru!” You cried, ”not, sup-supposed to be that-deep” maybe you were right, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not after endless nights of fisting his cock to obscene thoughts of you. And it didn’t help that he hadn’t seen you in two entire weeks. Every little thing you did set him off. He couldn’t stop even if someone walked in on him fucking you right now. Too mesmerized by how pretty you looked under him, your cheeks flushed and coated with fresh tears, tits bouncing with every thrust. You looked, felt like a dream.

“Hurry it up, it’s almost closing time.” Geto spoke slamming his book down on the table, right next to your face.

“Suguru.” You sniffled., looking at him with your teary, doe eyes “Pl-please”

“Please what, my love?”

“Please- make him stop.”

“Don’t be mean now, he deserves to cum too, right?” He smirked, bending down to place a soft kiss against your swollen lips, followed by one upon your forehead.

“Ah- i can’t. Can’t take anymore.”

“Shut up, it’s your own fault” his movements quickened “walking around in that short little dress, just begging to be fucked.”

You moaned at a particularly rough thrust, couldn’t deny that he was making you feel good no matter the circumstances. You were sure he’d left bruised all along your waist with how hard he was gripping your hips. Your poor body feeling sore already.

“had to stop myself from having you against that bookshelf earlier.”

“Can’t say I disagree.” Geto tuned in, wiping your tears away.

Gojo groaned, looking down at where the two of you were connected, the way you were stretching around his length drove him crazy, and he made sure to have you come undone for the fourth time in the process.

Just a little longer of his erratic rutting and he was spurting thick ropes of his hot cum all over your abused cunt, pressing his tip into your clit while he came. He couldn’t resist pushing back inside to coat your gummy walls too. You looked so pretty all fucked out, your thighs slick with both of your juices. Still panting from your orgasm.

A wave of déjà-vu hit you when they finally helped you up. You could barely stand on your wobbly legs, although they only found that amusing.

“Let’s get you home.” Geto said wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you, “you sure you can walk? don’t want me to carry you to the car, love?”

You definitely weren’t sure, if he wasn’t holding you up right now, you’d immediately be met with the floor. Still you mumbled a quiet yes.

“My, um-“ Geto knew exactly what you were implying because of how your cheeks burned from the sheer embarrassment, you looked so adorable tugging on the hem of your sundress, trying to pull it as far down as it possibly went.

“Your panties?” You nodded, refusing to meet his eyes. Gojo had ripped them off you before you even had a grasp of the situation, having Geto pocket them. You could still see the frilly pink fabric peaking out of the pocket of his pants.

“Weren’t those for me?” He smiled, “it’s already unfair that i didn’t get to have you today.”

You couldn’t argue, instead just turning even redder, thinking about what use he’d have for your dirty underwear.

“Besides, if you’re gonna dress so slutty might as well do it right.” Gojo mocked.

Maybe you should stick to simplistic summer outfits after all, or maybe not.

[nautiscarader]

Desperate Milo/Amanda

yeah, ten days late, I’m [insert expletive here]

() (Ao3) (next>>)

They say that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and in that moment, Milo Murphy realised this was true. Amanda’s kisses got hungrier with each second, and with each piece of their clothes that got undone. The shy and usually restrained college student turned into a insatiable beast that straddled him and kept pressing his body into the mattress, and with that force exerted on him, Milo had to surrender, especially when his girlfriend started moving her hips back and forth against his crotch. Her hair flowed with each of her subtle, and yet decisive move, her lips - whenever she wasn’t kissing Milo - were curled into a sultry, sexy smile that only deepened as the two got progressively more naked.

Soon, Milo Murphy was met with her breasts, bouncing in sync and when he buried his face between her enticing bosom, his mind became blissfully blank, and he started remembering how he found himself in that situation.

——————-

For Danville’s standards, it was a rather regular day, so far interrupted only by the rampaging sloths that after twenty years have reached a semi-busy intersection, and as a result were finally noticed. A group of old friends watched police trying to contain the incredibly slowly spreading pandemonium, wondering how come no one has tried doing anything before.

- I think they simply had more stuff to do. - Melissa spoke, sipping her pumpkin latte - For the last two decades?! - Zack countered - That thing was a thing when we were born! - Yeah, but they had more pressing matters. Like… making sure that coffee shops have pumpkin spice every year. - My mom has been trying to deal with that for years. - Amanda spoke - That’s what happens when you don’t plan ahead. - Speaking of…

Melissa leaned back from the fence and sneaked her arm around Zack’s neck, watching as his lips curl into a giddy smile.

- I think it’s time for us. You guys have fun.

As Melissa, turned around, she winked, making Amanada’s face turn as red as her friend’s hair, something that piqued Milo’s interest.

- Cold? I got something for it in my backpack… - No, it’s not, Milo, you’re sweet… - she leaned and gave him a kiss - Though I think I might have a fever…

Her arms closed behind his neck and the next moment her lips were on his, joined in a long, sensual kiss. The cold, September afternoon gave them an extra excuse for deepening their hug and share their warmth, and Milo did not object when he felt Amanda’s arm sneak underneath his coat to further bring their bodies together in an intimate, yet strong pull.

- A-Amanda? - Milo, I’ve been checking our timetables… and… I found a window of opportunity tonight.

Milo stared into her brown eyes, noticing a familiar, frisky gleam he’s been wishing to see again for quite some time, and as her hands moved on his back, he received more and more signs of what was to come.

- To-tonight? - Yes, Milo. Should be just enough time for something to eat and…

She shied away, as Milo was still staring at her with his widened eyes.

- Well… I got a surprise, let’s just say.

Amanda looked up again, and this time her boyfriend’s face was not filled with astonishment, but content and excitement, and his wide smile couldn’t have been a better early present.

- Oh, that is… that sounds cool. When should I be ready? - Actually, I was thinking… right now. We-we still have enough time to deal with any… complications…

Amanda leaned and their lips met again, sending electrifying, shocking signals down their bodies to bundles of nerves that needed them most now. Their hearts beat faster, as their prolonged their kiss, locked in a tight, romantic embrace. And then the two shrieked when they both felt they lost balance.

The fence they were pushing against gave up, and next thing they knew they were dangling from the bridge, clutching to the last two planks of the railing.

- Don’t worry, I think I have something…

Milo spoke and waved his backpack, watching as various things fall from it, one by one, but Amanda was faster: she dug her hand in and made a large, yellow raft fell down and started inflating itself.

- Jump!

Milo followed her words at once, and the two young adults found themselves falling into the makeshift boat that now floated on the calm river, in a vaguely correct direction towards their homes. Amanda, however, was less than thrilled.

- Oh, no, we’re gonna be late! At least five minutes! - Don’t worry, Amanda - Milo replied, using a tick to steer - I’ve got this…

A small, hissing sound reached their ears, and the next moment, the inflatable raft, now with a hole in it, sped up, bouncing from one bank to the other, until the compressed air ran out, and their only mode of transportation suddenly lost buoyancy. That, however, was not the biggest problem.

Suddenly, the current of the river became more and more rapid, as the two got closer to the entrance to the canal, that by all rational means should be secured. Milo grabbed Amanda’s hand, but it was her who reached into his backpack again, procuring a long rope that soon found its way around their torsos. with one precise move, she threw the other end, tied in a hoop op, and the two were able to walk to the dry land.

- Well, that’s one way to start a date - Milo spoke, using a portable hair-dryer to heat their soaked bodies up.

She replied with a smile, grabbed his hand, gave him another peck and pulled him back onto the street level, leaving the hairdryer to fall into the river. The two ran, giggling on the way, until Amanda pinned him against the wall of a nearby building, shielding themselves from any onlookers, and cupped his face, meeting his widened eyes.

- I just can’t wait, Milo… - she whispered in a conspiratorial, smoky voice, before her lips met his in a quick, ravenous kiss.

A kiss that was interrupted by a series of very loud crashes just next to them. One by one, several lampposts, construction cranes and at least one brick tower fell to the ground, cluttering the street they were about to cross.

- Oh, wow, I didn’t know there was that much work being done in our town. - Milo spoke - Though then again, I might be responsible for that… - Oh, come on! - Amanda cursed, grabbed Milo’s hand and against common sense rushed towards the labyrinthine mess that covered her street.

She jumped, she crawled, and she ducked, manoeuvring around swinging pieces of metal, engines on fire and streams of water from the nearby broken fire hydrants, dragging Milo behind her. Every now and then she heard him suggest using things from his backpack, but Amanda knew it would only postpone their date, and the burning sensation in her forced her to keep moving. Calamity followed them closely, but Amanda was unyielding, bravely crossing each new obstacle, until she finally landed on the doormat to her house, and opened the door to the empty house.

- Come in, Milo!

She didn’t have to say it, as a giant raccoon just missed the two, smashing against the door that closed in its face.

- So, Amanda, what’s the surpri-

Another kiss cut him off, and he was once again pulled, this time up the stairs, by Amanda’s strong grip on his sweater. Despite her haste, only when she broke the kiss, she realised they weren’t going up at all, and instead they were sliding the long carpet underneath their feet. Amanda let out a roar, grabbed her boyfriend and unapologetically carried him up, jumping two or three steps at a time, until she finally reached her room.

With their lips still joined in a long, wet kiss, the two crashed onto her bed, and only now, as Amanda began undoing buttons of her blouse, Milo’s eyes went wide.

- Oh! Oh, er, you-you meant- - Yes, Milo. - she leaned and whispered, looking him straight into his eyes - Let’s make love.

She pushed him against her pillows, her hands already digging into his clothes, undoing each layer with her skilled, impatient fingers.

- Actually, let’s not “make love”… let’s rut! - she spoke, licking her lips as Milo’s shirt fell to the floor revealed his flat chest. - Er, wait, Amanda, I got the condoms in- - No condoms. - she suddenly spoke, her hands fumbling with his belt. - No-No? What about- - I got patches. - Amanda replied, grabbing Milo’s legs and pushing them up, so she could slid his jeans off - And if it peels off? - I got pills too. - she said, making equally complicated-looking acrobatic move which left her in just panties, exposing her naked chest. - And what if… - Then I got more plan-B pills. - she spoke - And if that fails…

Amanda stopped, cupped his face and hovered against his crotch, her wet sex inches from his.

- The we’ll think of names.

She grabbed his boxers, and in one decisive move, she ripped them, revealing his cock that soon disappeared into her soaking wet pussy in a single slide. Amanda let out a might roar and securing her hands against his chest she kept bouncing up and down, watching as her chestnut-haired lover’s face is torn with grimace of pleasure. Milo’s mind was torn with conflicting thoughts, especially as he was experiencing making love to without protection, and the sheer change in amount of stimuli made him lose himself inside her, which was exactly what Amanda was looking for.

His hands wandered to her thighs and waist, and even though Milo was performing admirably, it was Amanda, who made most of the job. Her frantic, impatient bounces filled her with Milo’s cock each time, stimulating her wet, needy sex. With each dive, her yearning only increased, and though she found some solace in his lips, she knew the burning sensation can only last so long until she’d be consumed by their shared passion. Still, she wanted to make the most of it: she changed the pace, delaying their orgasms, and listened as her room is filled with needy moans of her boyfriend, as she only allows him a fraction of an inch inside her, literally edging him by sliding her folds against his head.

But the truth was, she needed the release as much as he did, and the very next time she slammed her body against his, she pushed them both closer to their shared peak. Amanda leaned against Milo, looked into his eyes and kissed him, just as she felt her pussy twitch, and her hips quiver. The very next moment, the blissful pleasure that spread through her body was accompanied by jets of warmth spilling inside her that otherwise might have caused her to panic, but in her desperate state, she counted her blessings and used each spurt of seed to prolong her climax, revelling in the fact that they shared their love and joined their bodies.

Their love-making lasted maybe ten minutes tops, but when Amanda collapsed onto Miio’s chest, feeling jets of his cum fill her, she was as overjoyed, as if they weren’t late and made love for hours. She wanted to treat Milo with a dinner, a new set of lingerie she bought for him, and exquisite, long foreplay she mentally was prepared herself for for the last two days, reading extensive posts on-line.

And yet, when she added her boyfriend to the equations, the meticulous plan crumbled, just like she has under the orgasm that wrecked her body. But Amanda wasn’t sad. As she revelled and basked in the afterglow, she simply knew her dream date will take place at a different time.

She kissed Milo and rested her head on his chest, listening to his increased heartbeat, ready to fall into a deep slumber.

And then she spotted the same raccoon from outside, wearing her new, pink lingerie and jumped to her feet, ready to fight for it.  

[jolienjoyswriting]

Mortem In Contumeliam, Ch. XI

Chapter 11 of "Mortem In Contumeliam Final Fantasy VI," a Final Fantasy VI fan fiction story.

Now, here's a fun fact for you.  The person that interacts the most with Wedge, in this chapter?  That wasn't planned.  I mean, it's not to say that I had a plan for this section of the story beyond "that scene…" but, I think it ended up being pretty cute.

Word count: 4,108 – Character count: 23,417 Originally written: July 26th, 2019

Familiar strangers arrive in the wake of chaos.  Is Samasa saved?

Final Fantasy VI, Wedge, Biggs, and related characters, scenarios, and properties created by Square Soft, Inc. and © Square Enix Co, Ltd.

[ ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → ]

    “Hee-hee-hee, ha-haaah!!”     Kefka insanely laughed as the huge pile of crystals jingled and clinked in his arms.     “With all this beautiful Magicite, I should have no problem getting through that pesky seal!  Then… then…  The treasure will be mine… all mine…!!”     He gave another laugh… then, he hiccuped.     “Un-belieeeve-able!!”     And, with that strange thought… he walked right out of the town, leaving it to burn.

    “Oh, gods– oh, gods– oh, gods– oh, gods– oh, gods…!  Be okay, please be okay!”

    When he was sure that the power-mad man was truly out of sight, Wedge finally came out of his hiding spot… though, with serious difficulty.  He was completely drenched in sweat from the impromptu steam-bath, freezing-cold from fright, and still mildly panicked from what he’d seen and heard.  Despite all that, he knew he had a duty to fulfill… checking on his friends!  But, that would have to way because…     “Stop right there!!”     As he noticed when he spun around…     “It’s you guys!!”     He wasn’t alone.

    Standing across the way from him was a rag-tag group of people that he recognized from the dinner at Vector: a royal figure and a strongman, both of which looked similar… a heavily-armored man with a stern gaze and sharp blade… a wild child, a well-dressed man, and even a  moogle, for some reason!  Yes, he recognized them all as friends of the Returners and, though he was extremely relieved to see them… it didn’t seem like they were too thrilled to see him.

    “Thank gods you’re here…” he sighed with a smile.     When he took a step forward… he had to jerk back.  A handful of shafts had pierced the ground, landing right where his foot had been.  He looked at them, then looked up… only to slowly raise his hands over his head.  The man in green trappings had an odd device leveled at him… a device that looked like a crossbow with a number of additions, such as a belt full of bolts hanging off it.  It didn’t take much guessing to figure out what kind of weapon that was…

    “O-okay, I know what this looks like, but–”     “You have exactly five seconds to explain what happened here,” the man shouted as his companions angrily glared and made various threatening gestures.  “The next volley won’t miss.”     Wedge wasn’t sure how to summarize everything, so he just blurted out the first thing he could: “K-Kefka!!”  Luckily… that seemed to be just the word to get the group to calm down.     “Explain,” the man ordered, keeping his weapon aimed at the soldier’s head.  And, under threat of becoming a pincushion… the soldier told the group everything that had happened.

    Shortly after his explanation, Wedge was shoved aside and told to leave.  He walked some short distance away… but, he didn’t want to exit the village.  In fact, he wanted to help with the situation in any way he could!  So, as they tended to their unconscious friends, he walked over to the well, pulled up a water bucket, then hurled some hot water at the nearest building.  It wasn’t until his third toss that any of the Returners noticed what he was up to, and…     “Gau… help armor man?”     It was a child with wild hair and torn clothes, seemingly there to help.     “Not… sure what you can do.  There’s only one bucket, but–”     “Gau, Gau!!” he shouted before closing his eyes.  “Gaauuu… Blizzard!”

    The soldier went wide-eyed as the scruffy youth stood up and cast a storm of snow at the building.  When he did it, again, Wedge wasn’t sure what to say…  Then, when a couple of others started doing the same to the nearby buildings, he just rubbed the back of his helmet, feeling kind of useless.  His little bucket was no match for the power of magic…

    Once the fire had been quenched, he was among the first to search the ruined buildings for signs of life.  Thankfully, there were plenty of citizens who had kept themselves safe and out of harm’s way.  The rest of the morning was spent helping them recover, dousing what fire remained, and generally trying to undo the damage that “his people” had done to Samasa.

    As the sun rose up and held itself high above the land, Wedge found himself leaning on the well and thinking… only to look to his side.     “Gau?”     Once again, the strange youth had come up to him.  He seemed to be offering a small portion of jerky to the soot-covered soldier.     “Thanks.”  He smiled as he took it.  “Ya know… you’re a lot nicer than your friends.”     “Gau…”  He looked away.  “Others not trust armor man.  Armor man hurt others.”     When Wedge tilted his head, Gau immediately corrected himself.     “Other armor man hurt friends!  Armor man bad.  But…”     The boy looked up with a bright smile.     “Yous armor man seem good!”     “W-well, I try…” he said as he ruffled the kid’s hair, much to his appreciation.     “Hey, you!”     Both he and the child looked across the way.  The burly man – who looked similar to the guy with the mechanical crossbow – was walking toward them.

    “Thou!” the wild child greeted as the muscle-man drew closer.     “Yeah, yeah…” was the man’s chuckling response.  “You.  Soldier.”     Wedge hesitated… then, he looked right at the man with a neutral expression.     “I came over to say… thanks.”     “Huh?”  The soldier gave a blink.     “I saw you tryin’ to put out the fire with your dinky bucket.”  The other man laughed.  “Got Gau all fired-up!”     “Not Fire, Thou!  Blizzard!” Gau corrected.     “I didn’t mean– bah.”  He shook his head at the laughing kid.

    “Anyway… I don’t know what your game is, red-suit, but…”     “Gau, Gau!!” the rambunctious youth suddenly shouted as he hopped up onto the well.  He made an odd, purring noise as Wedge ruffled his hair, shortly after.     “You got Gau’s trust, so I guess you can’t be all bad.”     “Thanks… I think?”     “If you really wanna help us… maybe, you can tell us anything else you know?  Like, how’d Kefka get outta jail?  Why’d he set the town on fire?  And, where’s–”     “General Leo!!”

    A horrified shriek ripped across the town square.  Both men, as well as the child, recognized the voice and, immediately after hearing it, ran over to see what was going on.  What they saw when they arrived was… absolutely heartbreaking.  Tina and Lock had recovered from their unconscious states and, unfortunately… the latter had managed to find what little of General Christophe that Kefka had left behind.

    “No… no… nooo…!!” she howled as she sat on her knees, visibly sobbing into her hands over the loss of her new friend.     “Tina…”     Wedge was about to crouch and comfort her… only for Lock to stop him.     “You stay away from her,” he said with a cold gaze and a threatening tone, pushing him away.  “You’ve done enough, already.”     “I didn’t–!!” he started to shout before catching himself.  With a controlled tone, he explained, “I didn’t do anything…!”     “Exactly.”  The man in the bandanna angrily scowled.  “You could have saved him… you could have saved Tina from seeing this.”     “What the hell would I have done?!” the soldier growled, growing angry.  “Between all the soldiers and his freaking death balls, Kefka would’ve ripped me apart!  As it was, he tossed me in the well before he got bored with me!”     “Maybe, you should’ve stayed down there,” the other man coldly told him.  A second later, he found himself staring, wide-eyed, as the soldier threw him against a nearby mound – not incidentally, causing both the machinist and the retainer to draw their weapons.

    “Look, you sonovabitch!” Wedge snarled as he pinned Lock against the rocks.  “I’m not one of them!  Those were Kefka’s soldiers!  I serve… served… under General Leo!!”     He gave a blink as the Returner spun him around, shoving him against the hill.     “And, where were you when he was getting shanked?!” he yelled.  “Where were you when Kefka was burning the village?!”     “I was in the gods damned well!  Unconscious!!” the soldier told him.  “Leo was–”     “More like, hiding!”  Lock slammed him against the slanted ground.  “You could’ve saved him!  Coward!”     Wedge wanted to say something.  However, he noticed that as angry as Lock was…     “Some soldier you are…”     He seemed more frustrated with the situation than anything – something he could relate to.

    The Returner sighed as he finally let Wedge go, then took a few steps away.  As he did that, the people who were aiming at the soldier stood down before returning to Tina’s side.  A moment later, it was Lock who knelt beside her, letting the girl cry into his shoulder.

    “Armor man…?”     Wedge glared at Lock… then, he looked to his side.  Gau had scurried up the hill beside him and was staring with bright eyes full of concern.     “Armor man sad…?” he asked with a small frown.     The soldier hesitated… then, he sighed, “Armor man sad…”     “Armor man want meat?”     “Armor man…”  He paused, again.  “Wants to disappear…”     At that, Gau opened his eyes and gasped.  “Armor man like spooky black man?!”     “‘Spooky black…?’”     Wedge had to think about who that could be.  When he figured it out… he just laughed.     “No, kid…  I mean, I just want to leave.  Go home.  Get away from… this mess.”     “Want friend?  Gau come?”     “Gau stay,” he said as he offered a brave smile.  “Your friends need you more.  Especially Tina.”     “Want go with armor man,” he insisted.  “Armor man more sad.”     “I… I really doubt that.  I just lost my favorite general…  Tina, though…”     The man crossed his arms, looking toward the group.  Tina had gone quiet, but she was still clinging to Lock with her face against his body.     “She lost her new friend.  Guess she really liked him, too…”

    “Magic girl hurt outside,” Gau told him.  “Armor man hurt in here…”     He gave a blink as Gau thumped his chest.     “Armor man no cry.  Armor man strong, outside!  Strong like Gau, awoo!!  But, armor man feel bad inside.  Drink ‘happy water?’  Write book?  Not sure.  But, Gau know armor man feel sad.  Face sad.  Heart sad.  And… Gau sad… ‘cuz new friend sad.”     He frowned a little more, looking even more concerned.     “Armor man go, Gau go, too!  Be beast!  Make armor many happy!”     Wedge couldn’t help but smile.  Gau was absolutely determined to cheer him up…     “Gau know hug?” he offered.

    Almost immediately, the child jumped into his arms and gave him a tight squeeze that made his borrowed Magicite poke into his chest.  He didn’t mind, though… he was just happy that Gau wanted a hug and, honestly?  He kind of needed one, himself… though, he would have preferred it to be from a happy Tina, if he had his choice.

    “Armor man be okay?” Gau asked as he dropped to the ground and sat like a dog.     “Armor man be okay… eventually,” he told the boy as he ruffled his hair.  “I have a lot of thinking to do.  Today’s… been one for the record books.” –––––

    “General Leo…”

    The air was somber as the group gathered in a clearing just east of the town.  It was there that they decided to give the general a proper burial.  Once it was done, Tina stood near the freshly-overturned dirt, having placed a bouquet of colorful flowers on it.  Everyone else stood a small distance away, giving her space.

    “Everyone wants power…” she said to herself.  “Do they want to be like me…?”     She paused before looking at the blank headstone placed at the head of the gravesite decorated with flowers.     “I wanted…” she whispered as she felt sadness find her, again.  “I wanted you to teach me… about so many things, General Leo…  I was hoping that…”     The girl had to look away and compose herself.  Lock took a step her toward her… only to be stopped by the man in green – Edgar, the king of Figaro.  When he shook his head, the other man settled back down.  Not long after, they both heard Tina give a sniffle, then a sigh.     “You were taken before your time… taken for no reason other than a mean, cruel man didn’t like you.  I barely had any time to know you, General Leo… but, you seemed so wise and so kind…  It’s not fair…  It’s not fair…”

    After another momentary silence, Tina finally turned away and walked right over to Lock and Edgar before returning to her place on the former’s shoulder.  She was done crying… but, she clearly had more grieving to do.  As that happened, the elder of the town walked up to the grave and made a couple of gestures.     “Ashes to ashes,” he said, “dust to dust.  May he fly with the angels.”     With that, he walked out of the clearing, leaving the group to their business.

    “Gau…”     Wedge blinked.  He’d been standing there without his helmet, quietly taking everything in… when he noticed that Gau was tugging on his pantleg and looking at him.     “What’s up?” he asked as he knelt to look at the kid.     “Armor man like magic girl?” he asked.     The soldier hesitated.  He’d asked that so innocently…     “Tina’s… my friend, too,” he quietly explained, “but Lock is taking care of her.  It’s okay.  I don’t really like him… but, if Tina trusts him that much, who am I to argue?  Heh.”     “Armor man still sad?” was the child’s next question.     “Heh.  Yeah… armor man still sad,” Wedge said with a nod.  “General Leo was great.  He let me and Biggs goof off, all the time, and–”     He paused… then, he deeply frowned.     “Biggs…”

    Gau was left giving a confused look as Wedge suddenly left the clearing, then quietly followed on all-fours.  It didn’t seem like the soldier was going to stop walking and, in fact, seemed like he was heading out of town.  But, as he got to the south entrance…     “Fight lady!!”     He was stopped by the appearance of someone he definitely didn’t need to bump into.

    “Wedge!” she called with a look of distress.  “What is going on…?  Another Imperial ship docked next to ours, then I heard the rumble of Magitek Powered Armor units…  When I saw the Blackjack fly over, I finally worked up the nerve to come here… but, everything’s scorched and ruined!  Plus…”     She paused, looking down.  Both Wedge and Gau followed her line-of-sight to see…     “I found Shadow’s dog…”     Interceptor was in her arms.  And… he looked like he’d found one-or-more armored units, himself, judging by his injuries.

    “Kefka betrayed us,” was his simple response.     “K-Kefka…?!” she exclaimed, accidentally disturbing the sleeping dog.  “A-ah, sorry, Interceptor…  Kefka…?  Here?  Why?”     “Take a wild guess.”     She grimaced, then she shook her head.     “Gau, where are our friends?  Are they here?”     “Gau, Gau!” the child barked.  A second later, he trotted back toward the center of town, followed by the lady general.     “Yeah…  Go find your friends,” Wedge said to himself.  “I–”     “Armor man!”     He blinked, then turned around.  Gau was looking out from behind a building.

    “Come!” he said.     “No, I–”     “Armor man friend!” the boy interrupted.  “Armor man friend of magic lady, armor man friend of Gau!  Armor man come back or… or Gau drag back!  Grrr!!”     There was no reasoning with the little wild child…  So, despite his better judgment, he followed Gau and Celes back into town, then into the clearing.

    “W-what’s wrong with Interceptor?!  Oh, geez… bring ‘im here!”

    Shortly after Celes arrived at the grave, Lock ordered her to bring Interceptor over.  He was quick to remove his bandanna and, with a combination of a Hi-Potion and that makeshift bandage, he treated the poor dog’s wounds.

    “As if General Leo wasn’t enough…” he muttered as Interceptor weakly resisted.  “Seems like even hired help like Shadow isn’t safe from those bastards.  Damn the Empire!”     He sighed, shaking his head.  Then, he re-focused on the slender hound.     “That’s the best I can do, for now.  Thanks for not biting me, ‘Ceptor.”     “Poor doggie…”     Lock looked over and noticed that the little girl in the beret had walked over.  After audibly sympathizing, she sat next to the beat-up pup.     “Don’t worry,” she told him as he settled next to her, “Lilum will keep you safe!”     Surprisingly – at least, for everyone but Lock, Tina, and Stragos – Interceptor seemed… relaxed around Lilum.  So much so that he put his head on her lap and even let her pet him.  It was kind of sweet.

    “General Christophe…  He… he’s really…?”

    Celes stood in front of the fresh grave, her hands over her mouth and her eyes staring at the fresh dirt.  She couldn’t believe what she’d been told…     “Kefka…”     But, rather than stay sad about it…     “He’ll pay for what he’s done!”     She grew angry!

    “The Empire betrayed us all, it seems…”     After Celes paid her respects, the entire party – including the Imperial Magitek Soldier – quietly left the clearing and met in the square of the town to continue their conversation.  As they settled, it was the man with long, white hair and nobleman’s clothing that spoke up.

    “What do you mean, Setzer?” Tina asked, despite knowing better.     “Heh.  We were this close,” he explained as he lit a cigarette for himself, “to being caught in a trap, ourselves.  That’s why we’re here, in fact!”     “We managed to escape, ere,” the black-haired man with a pencil-thin moustache explained.  “King Figaro’s information is to thank.”     Lock smiled.  “Using that royal clout, huh?”     “‘A little kindness goes a long way,’ as they say…” the king said with a grin.  “My kindness toward a tea maiden allowed her to open up and share some interesting information about the goings-on in Vector.  She was quite well-informed… and, quite lovely.”     “So… you flirted the info outta her…” his brother said with a disapproving frown.     “My dear Macías,” Edgar said as he waved a finger, “don’t misunderstand my intentions.  Yes, my actions could be misinterpreted as idle flirtations but, I assure you: it was a simple courtesy.  Cour-te-sy!  It is my kingly duty to make the fairer sex feel… appreciated!”     Macías rolled his eyes with an “Uh-huh…”     “That aside…” the young king said, changing the topic, “I believe we need to rethink our tactics.  Let’s return to the airship, formulate a plan, and stop the empire from entering the Eidolons’ World.”     “May I come with you?”     Both Edgar and Macías blinked, then turned to face the source of the new voice.

    “And, you are?” Edgar asked as he looked at the old man who stood more-than-a-head shorter than him.     “That’s Stragos,” Lock told him from a short distance away.  “He’s from here.”     “He’s descended from the magic-users of this land,” Tina added.  “He can help us!”     The young king gave a puzzled look between his two friends…  “Magic-users, you say?”     “I can’t just let the Empire abuse the power of the Eidolons like they are!” Stragos suddenly told them.  “I aim to stop them in their tracks!”     “Lilum, too!!”     All eyes fell upon the old man’s granddaughter.  She had spoken up from behind and was hopping in place with her arms over her head.

    “No,” was her grandfather’s flat response.  “Stay here.”     She made a noise and pouted… something that got a laugh out of Macías.     “What’s funny?” she asked him with a pout.     “It’s cute that you wanna help,” he told her, “but, a kid would just slow us down!”     She threw her hands up, putting on an angry face.  “What the hell, muscle-man?!”     That just made him laugh even harder!     “Well, you’ve sure got a lot of spunk, missy!  But–”     “Grrrr…”     He stopped, staring as she reached under her hat and whipped out a paintbrush.     “Hold still…” she told him in a vaguely-threatening way. “I’m painting your portrait!”     “Whoa!  No, stop!”     As she twirled the brush between her fingers, Tina and Lock both ran over, pulling their friend aside.  Meanwhile, Stragos snatched the painter’s tool away from her, much to her further annoyance.  All that… just seemed to confuse the ox-of-a-man.

    “Lilum…” the old mage sighed, “you simply won’t take ‘no’ for an answer, will you?”     “Nuh-uh!” Lilum said with a shake of her head.     “Bless you for having your mother’s temperament…”  He paused before telling her… “If that’s the case, then…”     The mage politely handed the brush back with a smile.     “You can come.”     “Oh, yeah!”  The girl leaped up, triumphantly throwing her fist into the air.  “Thanks, Gran’pa!”     “Just, behave yourself.  Okay?”     “Okay, Gran’pa!” she told him with a bright smile.  “Lilum promises!”

    “Well, that settles that!”     Macías gave a nod to everyone, looking satisfied.  Then…     “Let’s head out!”     He headed the pack as they headed out of town.  Not long after…     “Hey, perv!  You comin’?”     Lilum walked back, getting the attention of the man who’d hesitated to leave.

    “E-excuse me?” King Figaro asked, being drawn from his thoughts.     “Lilum said, ‘you comin’?’”  She offered a smile as she said, “C’mon, Kingy!  If you’re niiice, you may get a pooortraaait from The Great Lilum Arrowny, Mistress of the Long Stroke!  You do wanna pose for Lilum, don’cha?”     There was an awkward period of silence as Edgar stared at the girl.  She just stood there with her hands behind her back, cutely shimmying and happily smiling.     “You… uh… have quite the spirit.”     “Thanks, Kingy!” she said with a wink.  “Lilum thinks you’re alright, too!”     He rubbed his cheek before awkwardly asking, “Sssay, uh… how… old are you, exactly?”     “Why, Lilum is ten-and-a-half years old!” she proudly proclaimed.  A second later, she gave him a suspicious look and asked, “Whhyyy…?”     “N-no reason!” he exclaimed, sounding flustered.     She narrowed her eyes… then, she gave a shrug.  “Whatever!”

    As she spun around and started skipping away, she told the king, “Better hurry up, Kingy!  Lilum won’t wait for you, forrreeeverrr!”  And, as she walked out of town, Edgar had to take a minute to catch the breath that had left him and adjust his cloak.     “Pull it back, Edgar…” he quietly told himself.  “She may act grown up, but she’s just a kid.  A real cute kid…”     Almost immediately, he slapped himself.     “J-just focus on the mission!  Gods…  The last thing my kingdom needs is that kind of publicity!  Uh… wait, why am I talking to myself…?”     All-at-once, he called to the girl before running after.  However, as he left…     “Armor man!”     Someone else came back.

    “What?  Gau?  What are you doing back here?”     Wedge was stood near the well of the town – his new favorite spot, apparently – and hadn’t been paying any attention to anything that was going on.     “Armor man come!  Join friends!” the wild child said as he walked over, standing upright.  “Fight bad man!”     “N-no, that’s okay…” was his response.  He figured that Tina and her friends had everything under control and, despite his newfound distaste for the Empire… he couldn’t see himself being any use to them on their quest to dismantle it.  But…     “Join friends!”     The kid who had befriended him seemed as stubborn as the little loudmouthed girl…

    “Listen, Gau…” he started to tell the blond boy in animal hides, “I really don’t think your friends need my help.  I mean, up until today… I was part of the people they’re about to go fight!  So–”     “Fight lady was bad!  Fight lady good, now!” he interrupted.  “Magic lady was bad!  Magic lady good, now!  Armor man good…  Gau know, others learn!  So, come!”     “No… no, it’s fine.”  Wedge gave a soft smile.  “I’ll just… stay here, where my best friend and favorite officer died.  Maybe, in time, the nice folk might even forgive me and let me stay here in town!  Yeah… yeah, I could see myself being happy in this town…”     “But…  Gau like armor man…  If armor man stay…”     The boy deeply frowned, his eyes looking right into Wedge’s.     “Gau be sad…”

    Wedge narrowed his eyes – forgetting that Gau could see them, since he was still holding his helmet.  He knew – and, couldn’t believe – that Gau trying to manipulate him, like that!  Still, there was something about his words… something in the way he was frowning and staring… something genuine… that made him eventually say…     “O… o-okay.  Just… gimme a second?”

    The soldier met up with Gau some short time later.  When asked what he was doing, he wouldn’t say… but, in actuality, he’d decided to leave something of his own on General Leo Christophe’s grave…

    A tarnished sword… and, a beat-up, red-orange helmet with a lightning bolt on it.

[gloves94]

Flowers of Glass [10/10]

Warnings: Suggestions of violence.

Pairings: Thomas Shelby x Pious! Reader Back to [CHAPTER 1] Summary:  Reader is a devout Catholic. Her innocence and modesty make her untouchable to all of the men of Birmingham. However- is she really untouchable to all of the men in Birmingham?

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter [10] - Loaded Gun

With a mind sunk deep in devout prayer.

Mrs. Shelby was currently kneeling in the front pew of the church. She no longer wore her pristine white veil.

Instead, she kneeled and she prayed, she prayed and prayed and prayed.

She thought of Tommy, her dear husband, and she prayed for his soul. He was a good man. She knew it deep inside of her aching heart.

Often times Aunt Poll would join her in prayer. However, this time she was alone.

The cloudy skies cast a dull light which reflected through the church's colorful stained flowers of glasses on the windows.

Despite it being early in the morning the temple was empty.

Deep in devoted worship, she didn't hear the echoing footsteps entering the House of the Lord...

Mrs. Shelby had initially been so hesitant to marry the man. She didn't belong in his world tainted by malicious lies and deathly violence.

Neither did their child…

But did she have a choice?

Her child needed a father and his father needed him, and well- despite his occupation… Thomas had been a good man to her. A really good man.

It had led her to ponder on the philosophical question of what made a man: his job? The way he did his job? Or was it his character?

Meditating upon the Words of the Bible she came to a conclusion. God's Word, the Holy Book, was a book of love.

The greatest commandment was to "Love thy neighbor as thyself." She pondered long and hard on those words. Arguably God's first miracle towards humanity had been to give Adam, the first man, his equal, a wife, a person to love: Eve.

She would be the Eve to his Adam as he would be hers.

When reaching the front of the altar her eyes wandered to look at his pocket watch. She eyed the thin golden chain he had fashioned for it.

It was her rosary cross, the one he had once ripped from her heart in a dark alley.

Now he would always have a piece of her with him.

The day of her wedding she made a pact with God.

He had, and would always have her uncouth devotion, God that is.

In exchange, she only asked for him to save her husband's soul.

The pious woman was surprised at how her life changed when she married into the Shelby family. She spent a lot of time with Aunt Poll who was the family's matriarch. She liked to think of it as grooming.

Mrs. Shelby learned from her very quickly. Aunt Poll taught her what to do, what not to do, what to say, what not to say. They would often pray, run errands or simply enjoy each other's company. Ada would join them sometimes. And when Mrs. Shelby wasn't preoccupied with familiar tasks or running errands she could be found attending the needs of the family's wounded soldiers. An activity that part of Thomas detested, yet was thankful for.

Often times Tommy would miss dinner. Mrs. Shelby would tire of waiting for him with a full plate of cold food. After some time she decided to call it quits.

She could feel him slither into the sheets at the crack of dawn, his weight dipping the mattress. However, she wasn't one to question her husband's matters or his where-have-been's. Something that Aunt Poll had made very clear to her…

He would hold her tight and bury his face in her nest of hair. She could sometimes hear him mumbling something about "the drills…" in his sleep.

xxx

"What?" She would ask gently shaking him awake.

She had grown used to Tommy's odd sleeping habits.  His tossing and turning, his sleeplessness, the mumbling, stirring and even sometimes the screaming.

"Tommy, wake up!"

"You're here." He would sigh as his arms found his way around hers. "You're here…" He would breathe into her skin.

xxx

Time passed.

Tommy's business grew with time.

The Peaky Blinder's territory and infamy spread through Birmingham and further like the plague. There wasn't a person who didn't know who the Shelby's were or would dare touch them with a ten-foot pole.

Tommy's job was to take care of the family business. Hers to take care of him.

Despite it all, their marriage was no bed of roses.

Being married to Tommy Shelby sometimes included unpleasant encounters. She felt as if every night it was something different.

Sometimes he would arrive home covered in something or someone's blood.

Other times he was wounded: shot, cut, bleeding, tortured, ill.

At times he was even high out of his mind. Even tho he had promised he would stop.

The stress of caring for the man who had her heart had caused strands of her hair to begin to turn grey regardless of her young age.

Their marriage could've been called a lot of things- ordinary definitely wasn't one of the words she would use.

xxx

"Now you've seen me."

He said to her the first time she caught him fumbling around the bathroom as he washed foreign blood of off his pale skin.

"Please stop," she would cry into his bare shoulder as she cleaned his wounds. It was beginning to take a toll. The sleepless nights, the stress, the fear or her husband not returning to her any day.

She almost felt as if any day could be the last.

She pleaded to her husband to take another office. She would not care if it was work in the mines or even in the docks. It was probably safer than having him stroll the streets with a target on his back as the leader of the Peaky Blinders.

"You knew the kind of man I was when you married me," he would say gruffly.

At loss of words, she remained silent.

xxx

Other peculiar instances that occurred after her marriage to Thomas would be when she would attend the market to run errands.

xxx

"Could I have some eggs?" she asked one of the vendors once kindly.

"None for ya," the man spat gruffly.

"I know ya. I seen ya. You're that whore- bearing a creature without God's blessing."

Cross. Upset, yet without another word she turned and left the store. She held her tongue and decided to forget about the incident.

The next morning... Mrs. Shelby awoke to the man banging on her doorstep at sunrise.

"I-I am so sorry. I wish I had known! I meant no disrespect! Here-Here!" He cried out as he handed the woman a basket full of fresh eggs to her.

He wore a black eye and appeared and was dressed in dried blood from the former night.

Many teeth gaps appeared in his grim expression, his mouth swollen.

xxx

After that-

Whenever Mrs. Shelby entered a place, Mrs. Shelby got what she wanted.

People began dodging her in the street. Vendors would hand her free cheese, free produce, fresh and hot bread right of the oven. Even the lame and beggars would cringe whenever she approached them to give charity.

Rooms would clear the moment she set foot in them. All falling silent at the presence of the woman.

Aunt Poll would mutter that the people had grown more afraid of disrespecting her than of Tommy himself. God knows what the people of Birmingham had heard.

Rumors were whoever dared lay a hand on Mrs. Shelby would loose more than a hand, and whomever dared even look in her direction would be made a blind man.

Once- a religious man made the mistake of approaching her one Sunday outside of the church. He had meant no ill, yet there was Thomas. Outside, patiently waiting for his wife to finish her worship.

Mass had never been his cup of tea.

Without a word he simply approached her and claimed her. He took in her elbow and with a subtle hand on her back simply lead her away, his jaw was tight as he glared at the foreigner.

Mrs. Shelby simply smiled at her husband and took his hand in hers as they returned home.

Yet- despite it all… Thomas was a loving man to both her and their child. Their small home was filled with familiar laughter, breakfast food fights and bedroom pillow fights.

Some nights Mr. Shelby and his wife would dance to the latest swing jazz on their living room stereo. When Tommy returned from out of town trips it was always nice.

He would arrive with a toy hidden behind his back to surprise his son with. The child would exclaim and clap his hands in excitement at the surprise.

His wife would hold a hand to her heart simply relieved to have her husband home once again.

He would also have a treat for her, rare gems, pearl necklaces, African diamonds imported from the bloody mines of El Congo.

However, she was simply happy to have him back.

She would embrace him tightly every day.

Rain or shine. Shedding away her sadness or anger she would swallow her pride and embrace the man who had given her everything.

After all, any day could be their last.

...They stopped behind her.

The footsteps that is. A pregnant silence followed. A dropped pin could be heard in the temple.

An arm raised.

A loaded gun aimed.

Threatened. Her eyes shot open.

Holding her breath she mumbled her final prayers. Realization washed over her consciousness.

She begged God to forgive and save her husband's soul one final time.

Despite the darkness that Tommy carried within him, there was also good. He had done well. He had done good…

She kept a beaded rosary wrapped around her palms.

Wrapped safely around the white, pearly rosary was a loaded gun held tightly in her stiff hand.

Her finger itched against the burning trigger.

the end.

FIRST: [1] The Untouchable Woman

PREV: [9] Addiction

TAGS: @i-love-superhero  @savemesteeb @hollabackhollagram

AN: What did you guys think of the ending?  Let me know in the comments below! (Please don't shoot me (lol) it's up to the interpretation of the reader. Was Mrs. Shelby shot? Or did she shoot first?) Funfacts about the story: -The ending of The Godfather (the book) inspired me to write this final chapter. - I named (Name) reader “Maria” in my head. - I’m barely in S2 of Peaky Blinders 💀

[artisticvicu]

Say my name, say my name. | Devil’s Angel | Part 5

[Prev]

The walk was equally short and excruciatingly long. He could feel the distance in his body with the way it ached, legs trembling as he came to a halt before his door. Somewhere along the trek he had realized that he had left Lucifer's dressed in cloths that were not his, meaning if he had his keys, they weren't on him now. A dull thought questioning what he would do with the door locked passed through his tired brain as he tried the handle. The door opened, revealing an apartment well lit in the dead of night filled with several people. He was certain his name was shouted as he was pulled into the apartment, jostled about by hands and arms familiar but unwanted. He flinched from the pain in his back and the cacophony of sound around him. "Give him space!" came a sharp order and there was suddenly space around him. He sucked in air greedily as Gruff Boss became his focal point before him. Ever in charge, the burly man was the only one to step closer now. Michael wish he hadn't let the man. From one instance to the next, Michael was forced to turn around, jacket pulled off and shirt shoved over his head. He hissed as cold air hit raw wounds agitated by the sudden removal of his shirt. He struggled to replace the shirt but his boss's grip was strong regardless of how gentle it was. "Penelope, go get what counts as a first aid kit this moron owns." He heard movement towards the bathroom as Gruff Boss directed him somewhere. Another set of hands were on him as equally careful as his boss's as he heard the muffled scrap of a kitchen chair. He was forced to straddle the chair and rest his front against the backrest with his arms still pinned near his head by his shirt. "Ryan, Nate." "Name it and we're on it, Boss," the baker spoke from somewhere to his left. There was sound of another chair being moved. "Help him out of that shirt and keep him seated. And do try to be careful." "Always, boss," the other responded as the pair started working the shirt off of Michael. He did his best not to fight the unwanted touch despite their purpose. "Here, Roderick." Penelope - his other boss - had returned as his head came free. He squinted against the sudden harsh light. He gave both men a flat look as Gruff Boss responded from behind him, "Thanks." There was a brief moment of silence filled only by the sound of the shirt leaving his body completely and of Gruff Boss fiddling with whatever his sister had handed him. He felt far more exposed than he was comfortable. "What happened to your back, Michael." Penelope's question was hard, more of an order for him to explain than any actual option for him to dodge the words. Despite knowing there was compassion there, he wasn't about to tell any of them the specifics. He shrugged, flinching from the pain it caused. Ryan and Nate each shot a hand to his shoulder, pinning him down. Rage curled in his gut at the trapped sensation that settled over him. "I scraped up my back doing something stupid," he ground out. daring them to press the issue. A chuckle rolled from behind him, the sound coming across dangerous and humorless as it was quickly followed by Roderick commenting, "Walking home instead of heading to the hospital was stupid." Ryan's hand squeezed his shoulder, concern on his face as he asked, "Any other injuries we need to know about?" "How are your hands?" Nate suddenly inquired, reaching for one such appendage with his free hand. There was a stutter in his brain as he was forced to adjust his focus from his anger to his person. His gaze moved to his hands as Nate's enclosed one. They were completely healed. There wasn't even any sign of scrapping from pavement or any sort of injury and that was probably all thanks to Lucifer having healed him after the Fallen had first found him A part of him wished he hadn't. "Surprisingly fine. Seems Theo's quick actions yesterday had done the work." The sudden silence was deafening and his head came up so fast, the grips on his shoulders became painful as they attempted to keep him still. He brought his head around, defensive and unsure. He opened his mouth to say something - anything - but the only thing that seemed to come out was one measly word. "What?"

Roderick's hand was heavy and he turned, looking at his gruff boss. "Michael." He felt his stomach drop. Roderick never called him by his first name. "You've been missing for three days." There seemed to be no air in the room as what air had been in his lungs was taken away. "What?" he released in a strangled, breathy voice. Nate spoke up, drawing his attention. "When we sent you home, Boss asked me to check on you the next morning. You normally answer any text I send ya, even if it takes a few hours. But when you didn't respond before your shift was supposed to start the next day..." "We got worried something had happened," Ryan took over, his words sure where Nate's had failed. "We thought maybe you had been in an accident or something but the Bosses said to give you time, that injured hands could be making things a bit difficult and to not worry too terribly much about it." "When you didn't come to work this afternoon without calling in again, Roderick sent Nate to your apartment," Penelope spoke up. "We hadn't expected the panic phone call from Nate. It had taken a few words from Roderick before he was able to understand why Nate was in such a frenzy. Your phone and your keys were on the table and the front door was unlocked but you were nowhere to be found. Roderick and I came here after we left Theodore in charge of the cafe, what with Ryan being so adamant about coming with. We were about to call the cops when you walked in." Michael stared at the floor in disbelief. There was no way he had been gone three days. Two, maybe, but three? Had he been with Lucifer for that entire time? When had Jesus taken him to Heaven? Had it been night? He couldn't remember and trying to was making his head throb in pain. Pain seared his back and he hissed as he tried to recoil from it but Nate and Ryan were there, hands keeping him from moving too far as Roderick informed him rather dispassionately, "Disinfectant. I want to get these clean before we take you to the hospital." Michael shook his head as he gripped at a fistful of blonde curls. "No. Just clean them and wrap it. I'll be fine." "Michael." It was Nate but he didn't look up. "Those look nasty, like something ripped your skin. You need stitches." Michael shook his head again but was interrupted by pain as Roderick pressed against the injuries. "I'll be fine," he ground out. "To hell you'll be," Ryan snapped, his hand on Michael's shoulder suddenly becoming painfully tight. Michael forewent gripping his curls to gripping Ryan's wrist, glaring at the blue haired man. "As soon as Roderick gives the go ahead, I am dragging you to the nearest hospital, even if I have to throw you over my shoulder, kicking and screaming." Michael's expression darkened. "You wouldn't dare." "Try me," Ryan snarled in return, the threat of him actually doing so very real. If not Ryan, he knew that Roderick would. He gave in, letting go of Ryan's wrist. "Fine." Roderick's touch against his injuries became gentle and Michael rested his forehead on his crossed arms. Nate started combing his fingers through Michael's curls and Michael found himself relaxing. "Just a bit longer and we'll get you some good drugs," Nate offered, voice quaking at the edges as he attempted to ease the mood. Michael didn't respond but he did press into the touch. While it wasn't as sure as Lucifer's, he knew that Nate was just trying to help and it was honestly a comforting gesture regardless. Soft chatter filled the air over his head, numbing his thoughts as the air numbed his skin. By the time they had pressed a temporary bandage over his injuries, he was shivering. Nate quickly slipped out of his sweater and wrapped it around him. It smelled of some soap and the faint scent of coffee. Ryan then draped his heavy leather coat around Michael's shoulders and Michael was enveloped by the scent of leather and cigarette smoke. The trip to the hospital was rather uneventful and surprisingly quick. He wasn't about to point fingers but he was certain that someone had called ahead to get an appointment or something because they took him right in and gave him a local anesthesia before doing a thorough cleaning despite Roderick's attempts. Apparently he hadn't realized just how big the wounds were until he felt them working from his shoulder to the base of his ribs. In fact, there was quite a bit of fuss and talk of possible skin grafting but Michael only paid so much attention what with the others there to listen and comment. He fell asleep somewhere near the beginning of the whole thing because he didn't remember feeling the stitches when Ryan and Nate left his sides to climb out of the car. He blinked blearily around, confused. It must have shown as Ryan gently grabbed his arm as Nate unbuckled him. "Come on. You're bed's calling your name. Docs want to do a follow-up due to how severe the injuries were and had not been ok with letting you leave but you were adamant even in the half asleep state you were in." "Fairly certain I was asleep," he countered, leaning on Ryan as Nate opened the door. Up a few flights of stairs and he found himself back in his own living space. Nate hurried on ahead turning on lights and opening doors while Ryan guided him through the rooms, their bosses bring up the rear. "You gonna be ok without us?" Nate asked as Ryan helped him into a sleep shirt. Michael hummed an affirmation. "My phone's on the nightstand-" he wasn't sure who stuck it there but he was glad to see it, "and I don't have work tomorrow." "You're on a week's leave," Roderick commented loudly from the bathroom. Michael heard the clatter of pills and figured that the burly man was putting the pills away. "And I don't have work for a week." Ryan touched his shoulder. "Do you want me and Cynthia to come by in a few days to keep ya company?" "Alex and I have the day off tomorrow. We could come by and check on you," Nate even offered. Michael smiled weakly at all off them, exhausted but touched despite the annoyance that curled in his gut. "I'll let you know. I'm fairly certain I'm just going to sleep for the next few days." Roderick walked over and pressed something into his hand. When Roderick's hand pulled away, Michael found himself staring at a few pills as a glass of water was pushed into his other hand. Penelope was setting the pill bottles down next to his phone with a bottle of water. He popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed a mouth full of water. He shuddered at the nasty taste left behind by one of the pills. Penelope's gentle hand found his hair. "We'll drop by with food tomorrow morning. We've set alarms on your phone for when you need to take pills and I'll have Nate and Alex meet us here and they can make sure you eat tomorrow evening as well." Nate nodded. "Alex can bring their game system. We'll just bum on your couch like we would be doing at our place anyways." Michael nodded in turn, yawning. Roderick puffed up, gesturing to everyone, "Alright, time to leave. Let's let the poor sap get some sleep." Everyone filed out, Roderick being the last. As the gruff man grabbed the door, he looked to Michael. "You let us know if you need anything, alright?" Michael nodded, serious. "Of course. Thank you, Roderick." "Sleep well," the man responded before closing the door. Michael was shrouded in mostly darkness, the only light being the lamp on the nightstand by his bed and what light bled from the window. Situating himself on his front, he turned the light off and tried to sleep. He couldn't get comfortable. His back itched and his skin crawled. It was like he was being watched or something else was in the room with him. He tried to move, to look, but his body was too heavy with exhaustion that even his eyes refused to open and focus. Suddenly there was a weight on his back, a hand burying itself in his hair as fingers dug into one wound, a voice equal parts Jesus's and Lucifer's gleefully demanding, "Say my name." And then it shouted, "Say my name!" He shot upright and to the side, his entire back flaring in pain but he ignored it as he gasped for breath. There was nothing in the room and he grabbed at his phone, finding it to be hours after he had been put to bed. He rubbed at his face, hand trembling at the memory of the dream. His phone chirped in his hand and he was rather surprised when the sudden sound didn't startle him. A text notification illuminated the screen and he swiped at it. It was a text from Penelope informing him that he would be having company in two hours. Turning the screen off, he placed the phone back on the nightstand and hunkered down to try and get a nap in before he had to deal with company. He was relieved when he found himself waking up to the sound of someone knocking on his door.

[Next]

[elfgrove]

Bad Diagnosis - Part 3/6

Rating: T - angst, facing mortality, friendship, lion-paladin bond Word Count: 2195 Characters: Katie “Pidge” Holt, Green Lion, Hunk Garrett, Keith Kogane AO3: [link] < Prev | Next > 

Note: a) This is not an entirely accurate depiction of how brain tumors affect real people. It is based largely on skimming online stuff and stories from family members who’ve been there. Also, blame inaccuracies on how the Altean medicine is affecting things. b) Actions of characters are meant to be in-character and as flawed as the characters are, not recommended behavior for real people to follow.

"Hey Pidge, can you stick around and help me with the food goo machine after breakfast?"

She glanced up at Hunk from where she'd been blearily trying to muddle through some code on her tablet. Last night had been long. A seizure in a supply closet followed by a couple of hours curled up inside Green before she'd finally managed to grab a couple of hours sleep in the wee hours of the morning.

Days like this, she really missed coffee.

"Sure thing."

She stretched when breakfast was over, rolling up her sleeves and helping Hunk gather the dishes while the other members of Team Voltron left to go about their own tasks.

For a while, they worked quietly together, washing dishes.

"So, what have you been working on lately?"

She almost dropped the plate she was holding, "Trying to figure out how to adapt the cloaking from the training maze for the other lions. Why?"

"Just curious I guess," He took the plate from her, putting it away.

"You don't normally ask."

Hunk shrugged, wiping his hands of before passing her the towel, "I've been wondering."

She copied the motion, laying the towel down on the counter when she was done, "Yeah. I figured.  You usually don't though. You know I'll tell you about it when I get it working."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking around the kitchen as if he could find a distraction rather than answer her.

"The food goo machine doesn't need work, does it?"

"Err... No."

"Hunk!"

"Listen, I'm worried about you!" He started pacing, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, but not raising his voice, "You've been quieter than usual about whatever you've been working on in your free time lately. You usually come to me if you're having trouble working something out, but you haven't. And I can tell it's eating up all of your focus, because you've been eating less. Don't look at me like that. It's a lot less. You're losing weight, and you really don't have any extra to lose."

She'd known her appetite had been shrinking as she'd been needing to increase the doses, but she hadn't thought anyone would notice. She hadn't realized she'd been losing weight.

"Someone else is going to notice and say something eventually." Hunk sighed, stopping to run a hand through his hair and glance at her before looking away again, "I figured I'd try to talk to you about it privately, help you with whatever you're working on so you wouldn't be so keyed up that you're not eating."

She shook her head slowly, "It's nothing you can help with."

"It's not really cloaking stuff for the Lions, is it?"

She chuckled, "I am working on that, actually."

"It's not my food, is it? I can make something else for you if that's the problem!"

She started to say no, but he was right. Eating had been harder lately. She couldn't keep not eating and pilot. Food was necessary to survival and all. Eventually, someone else would make an issue of it too, and they'd be less willing to let her off the hook without a good answer.

"Could you maybe make mine with less spices or strong smells?" She cringed to even ask, "You're a great cook, but I think all the alien food is just doing a number on my stomach."

He nodded enthusiastically, "I can handle that!" 

He sounded so cheered by the ability to do something, she had to smile, "Thanks, Hunk."

"Do you want me to whip you up something now? I can make something now!"

"No," She laughed. "I'm good for now. I appreciate it."

"Anytime!"

"Okay, I'm going to go get back to work with Green."

He nodded, already turning to the cabinets and storage bins, probably planning how to alter his food to make something blander for her.

It would probably actually help too.

Green banked a hard left to avoid a blast from the Galra battle cruiser.

Red flew in beside them, Keith's voice coming in over the coms, "Flank left, and I'll go right. If we use the jaw blades along the inset just above that turret line—"

She nodded as she saw what he was talking about it, “On it!”

Green shook as they ripped through the hull of the giant ship, and a satisfying crescendo of explosions followed in her wake. At the other end of the battleship, she shared a cheer of triumph with Keith. While the ship started to collapse in catastrophic failure, they swept out through the space, clearing smaller enemy fighters with claws and blasts from the Lions’ mouths.

Nearby, the other three Paladins had taken out the larger battle cruiser and were similarly sweeping the area of stray fighters. Allura sent out a message that she and Coran working with the native Bajorans had managed to successfully stop the bomb planted in the tectonic plates of the planet below them.

She snickered as Allura repeated the name of the planet, unable to keep a straight face at the idea that Bajor was a real planet. Bajorans a real alien race. It was straight out of Star Trek. Not that the real Bajorans looked anything like their fictional TV counterparts.

She muted her comm to avoid getting chastised by Shiro or Allura again for her bad sense of humor.

“I heard that,” Keith’s voice came over a one-to-one channel between their Lions.

She chuckled again, “I can’t help it. BAJORANS! I used to watch old Star Trek episodes with my Mom.”

They swept through another cluster of Galran fighters, working in tandem to clear the battlefield as they chatted.

“Hey, I didn’t say I blamed you,” This time Keith laughed. “I was kind of disappointed when it turned out they looked like regular Grey aliens straight out of the old Roswell conspiracy theories.”

“Right?!” She felt her grin widen even as she wiped sweat away from her neck and pulled at the fabric of her suit trying to get some relief in the stuffy cockpit. “Not so much as a single earring or wrinkled nose! I can’t believe Star Trek lied to me!”

“You and I both,” Keith answered warmly. “Just don’t mention it to Allura or Shiro, I don’t think they’d appreciate the joke.”

“Of course not!”

“Still, I can’t believe some writer on Earth managed to get the names right for an old sci-fi show. The rebel group here even calls themselves the Maquis!”

“You noticed that too?”

“Absolutely!”

They continued chatting for a while, discussing favorite Star Trek races while hunting down the last straggling sentry-manned Galra fighters. Hers was Vulcans, of course. She was more surprised to find out Keith’s was Betazoids. Somehow, she’d expected Klingons.

When they got back to the Lion hangar at the Castleship, Shiro complimented them on how well they’d worked as a pair today, the sword and shield of Voltron. They’d traded satisfied grins and a fist bump, not telling anyone they’d been bonding over an old sci-fi series and making bad jokes for a large chunk of the battle.

She hadn’t expected Keith to track her down later to continue their chat. It wasn’t that he never did. In fact, it wasn’t strange at all for them to discuss Earth conspiracy theories and urban legends while she was working on a project, but she usually had privacy for several vargas after a battle. Everyone went off to relax, rest, and unwind in their own way.

Usually.

Under normal circumstances she would have found him perching on some nearby bit of furniture chatting with her while she worked her way through some bit of alien technology comforting. Today wasn’t a normal day.

Not old normal at least.

She’d managed to get a shower and get changed into a set of casual Altean clothes (her poor sweater from Earth was on its last legs) before the tremors had set in today. The last thing she’d expected was for Keith to come uncertainly into the darkened and unused lounge she’d hidden in just as the smell of cinnamon started to overwhelm her senses.

“Pidge,” His smiling face had fallen into that lost puppy look he sometimes wore as his searching eyes zeroed in on her in the dully-lit room. “What are you doing down here?”

She shook her head, trying to hide the way her arms were already starting to spasm, beginning at the hands, pinning them between her knees where she sat on the floor behind a couch.

“Nothing,” There was a slowness to her words, and she could feel her mind starting to swim. This was going to be one of the bad ones.

Not now. NOT. NOW.

Keith’s eyes narrowed and he dropped a tablet he’d been carrying as he rushed to kneel next to her. “What’s wrong? What can I do? I’ll go get—"

“No!” She managed to choke out a few words, voice desperate and fierce, even as the room started to tilt dangerously. “Don’t tell!”

She felt Keith’s hands on her shoulders as an oddly distant sensation just as the world around her went black.

She came back to herself quickly, head spinning, body sore, every muscle in revolt. She pushed herself halfway up and leaned away from something soft and warm as her body shuddered violently and she vomited what little she’d eaten this morning onto the metal floor.

She was breathing hard, on hands and knees by the time her stomach finished emptying. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, not ready to face the consequences of having been caught yet. An arm carefully wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her backwards until she was leaning against something – the couch back?

She cracked her eyes open slowly to find she was still in the dimly lit lounge, Keith sat next to her, purple eyes wide and watchful, his arm still carefully holding her in a sitting position.

“Keith...?”

“Welcome back,” He spoke softly, eyebrows furrowed and uncertain. “What do you need?”

“Water. Should be—"

“On the table,” He finished. “I see them. Can you sit up on your own?”

She nodded, and he moved to retrieve a couple of the water packs she’d left in the room for exactly this reason. He passed one to her as he returned to his seat on the floor next to her, holding the other on his far side, watching as she took a few long drinks before retrieving her pills from a pocket and taking a dose of the Altean medicine.

He waited.

“You didn’t tell anyone.” She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement.

“You asked me not to.” He shifted to face her better, ignoring the vomit on the floor, but eyes darting from the pill bottle to her face. “Something’s wrong.”

She swallowed a couple of times, feeling disgusting and humiliated, and not enough on top of her game to be sure she could convince him to keep her secret. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“What is it?”

“Promise me.”

“Pidge, I can’t...”

“I need you to.” She took a bet, knowing how deep his bond with Red ran, “If anyone finds out, they’ll make me stop piloting Green.”

His eyes widened, and she watched as his jaw clench in sympathy.

“I cannot lose her.”

“Okay.” He took in and released a long, slow breath, “But you have to tell me what’s going on.”

She nodded, feeling her shoulders unknot slightly in relief, “I have a brain tumor. I’m taking meds for it, but I still have seizures occasionally.” A lot more than occasionally, but Keith didn’t need to know that. “I’m handling it.”

“I’m guessing the healing pods don’t help.”

“It’s not an injury or a foreign entity. It’s a genetic abnormality. It’s me. The pods wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

He sighed and bit his bottom lip, “I’m guessing surgery is—"

“Not operable. Even if we had a surgeon on the team, which we don’t.”

“Is it,” He paused, looking her up and down as if putting several puzzle pieces together at once. “It’s killing you.”

“Brain tumors kind of tend to do that,” She shrugged, trying to be nonchalant, but felt hot tears forming at the corners of her eyes anyways. “It’s how they work. I’m mitigating.”

He nodded, small swift bobs of his head without looking at her, like he was trying to make himself accept the news.

They were silent for a long few moments, sitting together on the cold floor of an abandoned section of the castle.

“How long?” His voice was almost childlike in the tone of the question, “How long do you have?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why would they make you stop piloting if they knew?”

She locked eyes with him, “You already know that answer, Keith. You’re smart.”

He stared back for a long moment before slowly closing his eyes and bringing his hand up to cover the lower half of his face. His expression was pained. “The Lion Paladin bond. Its accelerating the tumor growth.”

He didn’t open his eyes to see her nod of confirmation.