#the shackles of a horrible team falling off of them

[thehungarythrophy]

"i'm retired, having a good time is my job" son or "do not disturb" daughter ?

[nohmercy]

MY CBS/CPS LORE DUMP!!! im... so sorry its so long 😭😭😭😭😭

RED Sniper and Spy are stationed at Twofort and become amicable buddies. They work well together for a few months, but, over time, earn the ire of the enemy team through relentless domination bc of a huge skill difference. BLU Spy takes it especially hard...

[The events of CBS: Origins happen. BLU Spy sabotages the respawn system, kidnaps RED Sniper + tortures him to death with the help of his teammates, RED Spy mourns, Sniper comes back with a vengeance, etc.] except we learn he made a deal with the Devil (like, from the comics). He has to send doomed mortal souls to him until he is satisfied, and as a reward, Sniper gets to be effectively immortal and gets a host of new abilities, thus, becoming Brutal Sniper. (His name is Christian. but he doesnt remember his own name after the resurrection, so he goes by Jack.)

When he comes back, he's powered by pure, frenetic bloodlust and rapidly loses himself to it. Over the course of a few weeks, he tracks down and slaughters each BLU team member, starting with the BLU Spy. RED Spy is, at first, happy he's back, but slowly starts to worry about his rampage and rapid change in demeanor from the calm, laid back guy he once knew. (this is the spy that hangs around him in the early days, muttering about bloodied suits)

After Brutal's quest for revenge is fully satiated, he learns that the Devil isn't quite done with him, yet, and not-so-subtly implies he will never get his normal life back. Brutal goes on another blood bender, slaughtering random people and attacking other Freaks he meets along the way back to his home base. There, he tries to stop himself, but ultimately can't suppress his urge to mindlessly kill. He goes for his own teammates, and the RED spy, his spy, dies trying to protect them.

This sends him into a daze, and he runs off into the world, quickly forgetting everything once more and falling back into his crazed, violent habits. There, he meets Gentlespy, and upon seeing him, Sniper feels a tug of something he can't explain (because it isnt bloodlust lol), so they stick together and run around doing Freaky shenanigans. Meanwhile...

RED Spy gets sent to (comic) heaven for his final good deed. While there, God acquiesces his one wish. He wanted to forget about it all, just like Jack did. He couldn't bear the weight of such a massive loss on his soul, and he felt he could have stopped it, but didn't because of his sentimentality. After having his memory wiped completely (oops), he quickly scales the rungs of God's favor with his skill and charm, and earns the honor of being an Angel.

His ruthless efficiency, cunning, attention to detail, ability to strategize and adapt, and his skills with weapons all land him in the tier of Vanquisher. He's sent back to earth with a small squadron of comrades on a reconnaissance mission to find all of the Devil's doings and either rid the world of them or cleanse them somehow. So, he goes around fighting Freaks, alongside Orange Man, Soldine, Karma Soldier (a fellow angel), etc. and finds that the wastes are overrun with the horrible, stupid things.

CBS is at the top of their shitlist, alongside Painis, Piss Cakehole, Nightmare Medic, etc. and they manage to capture him pretty easily. Exorcisms just seem to piss him off, and holy water just melts his skin off. So, they group up to try and find a solution. If they kill him, the Devil will just keep bringing him back until his contract is fulfilled. So, they decide to bind him.

With his powers mostly quelled by their spells, he finds himself, for the first time in years, lucid. Memories slowly start to fade back into focus. At first, he berates/mocks Pure and does everything he can to attack or escape. But as he starts to piece things together, his guilt keeps him quiet and shackled to his side.

[This is around where the Witchy vids slide in, but only some parts] Pure has no clue about any of this. He's just tasked with babysitting Brutal while he runs around dispelling spirits and beheading zombies. They have a sort of "i fucking hate you" vs "im going to ignore you" dynamic at first, but the ice melts pretty quickly. Pure finds himself weirdly drawn to him, and marvels at his skill in battle, even while intensely suppressed. Things take a turn when his superiors learn about their growing fondness for each other, however...

And they lock Brutal in the basement of a church. He can't die naturally, and they're trying to avoid killing him, so they decide to just leave him somewhere he literally can't escape. This causes Pure to question everything. The unabashed cruelty and apathy makes him second guess his position, his role in all of this. And, well...

He sets Brutal free. With the bindings off, everything rushes back all at once and he leaps at Pure's throat- only to stop himself... Through the hatred, the anger, the fear, he still feels... there. Like his memories didn't go away this time. He's still completely unaware who he's even looking at, but he finds himself lucid enough to think, to talk. Pure is scared out of his mind, but realizes that he could have been dead a million times over by now. They have a little Moment... and Brutal helps him up and dusts him off with a muttered apology. Neither of them have any clue what to do, now, and it's a bit awkward, but they just walk out of the church and celebrate their mutual freedoms.

Brutal offers to drag Pure around the desert in his stupid journey to kill as many people as possible, but he quickly declines, instead offering Brutal a place by his side as he hunts down and cleanses the world of the evil Freaks. (-thinking- 'pls be my faithful dog. pls be my vicious protective companion. pl') Brutal says ok whatevr ig but only bc ur pretty. ok not rlly but he does agree

They gather all the intel they can, making friends and allies in unexpected places and picking up puzzle pieces of their past lives. Pure slowly starts to realize that, not only did he used to be a living, breathing human, but he was a pretty shitty guy that killed people for money and smoked like a freight train. He has no clue how to cope with this, as it shatters his (heavily manufactured by outside forces) Pure persona. Things take a dramatic turn when they visit Twofort.

Shockingly, it's pretty much the same as it was all those years ago, but now lies abandoned. It didn't even get to see a cleanup crew, the splatters of blood and viscera still exactly where they were the day everything went wrong. And things click.

They remember each other. Not fully, especially not Pure, but there's a glimmer of awed recognition when they look at each other, now. And things get... weird. A lot of old guilt is drummed up a little too fast to handle, mingling with the ashes of an old flame. But they don't have time to think about that right now. Because Team Killer just showed up.

IM SORRY THATS SOOOO LONG OMFHSDJH I DONT EXPECT ANYBODY ON EARTH TO ACTUALLY READ THIS??? BUT THATS ALL OF MY THOTS ABOUT THIS THING IM INSANE ABOUT AND HAVE BEEN FOR LIKE 6 YEARS....

i will maybe draw this??? someday..maybe... RAUGH... or write a fic... I LOVE THEM SO MCUH

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Doctor Who: Flux Review- Who Gives a Flux

You're not getting a spoiler warning, because you can't 'spoil' a turd sandwich by letting on what kind of bread they used.

So, I knew Doctor Who: Flux wasn’t going to be good. It’s written entirely by Chris Chibnall, the man who gave us red hot hits like Shilling for Space Amazon and Attack of the Large Onion. Clearly, I was not expecting great things, but the 60th Anniversary Specials kept referencing it like I was supposed to know and care what it was, so I gritted my teeth and dived in. I am an idiot. I only have so many hours of life, and I chose to spend six of them watching Flux. I feel like if I’m ever dragged up before some kind of cosmic review board and asked to justify ever second I spent on Earth, I’m going to be more embarrassed about the time I spent watching Flux than I am all the days I wasted trying to pick things up using only my feet (And thereby hangs a tale, but I don’t have time to tell it here). Anyway: Flux. Why?

I think the cruellest thing about Flux is that it starts off alright and then gradually deteriorates over time- so gradually in fact, that you don’t even notice until you reach the end and realise what you just saw. You might be familiar with that really sick experiment some very bored scientists once conducted, where they tried putting a frog in boiling water. Obviously, the frog jumped out. So then they put the frog in cool water and brought it to the boil over a long period of time. The frog didn’t realise what was happening and literally just sat there and died. Flux was the water. I was the frog.

The first episode, The Halloween Apocalypse is okay sci-fi. It even feels like a proper episode of Doctor Who in places. After some preliminary grumbling, the opening proper sees Whitaker’s 13th Doctor dangling over a sea of acid with not-really-her-love-interest Yaz, suspended from a hovering beam set up by a prospective villain. And our heroes spend most of the time arguing over whose fault it is that they got caught in the first place while their escape plan goes horribly wrong. We’re also introduced to our actual villains for the series, who claim to represent time itself while a big swirly space-storm that might or might not be related ravages the universe. It’s… pretty compelling actually. The ideas seem big and intriguing and I actually found myself- against my better judgement- wondering what the big twist was going be. There’s this recurring notion that time itself is evil and needs to be shackled, lest it run riot and overtake space, creating a world of infinite suffering. It’s a terrifying concept and therefore interesting. Meanwhile, Whitaker actually appears to be doing some acting, which makes a nice change from her early tenure. I mean, she still doesn’t feel like the Doctor- any Doctor- probably because she didn’t actually watch Who prior to acting in it, but she’s not so wooden as to be unwatchable this time round, so there’s that. In short, we’re set up for a solid season of TV.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for the wheels to fall off. The second episode sees the Sontaran coopting the Crimean War to invade Earth, taking advantage of the chaos created by the Flux (which, in fairness, is a very Sontaran thing to do). Before long, the Doctor and co. (by now, there’s a team- I’m not getting into the why) bump into actual historic figure Mary Secole, whose accent alone should win some kind of award for overacting and an army general who’s trying to repel the Sontaran invasion. Obviously, the Doc takes issue and tries to tell him not fight the Sontarans, which on one level is fair enough. We know the Doctor’s not a fan of soldiers. But the poor bastard literally doesn’t have a choice. Not only is it his job, from his perspective, he’s the last line of defence stopping the Sontaran invasion from reaching Britain. He has to fight. Yet, like most of Chibnall’s disposable villains, he’s written with all the complexity of a tablespoon- he’s just a bluff, overbearing military-man (and a bit of a sexist, just in case we didn’t get we were meant to be rooting against him). He’s just there to get in the way and never exhibits enough personality to make him compelling or make us think about his motivations and the internal logic of his actions. I mean, I know Moffat was a bit annoying as showrunner, back in the day, but at least when he wrote characters like this you could see what they were thinking and why- you understood that they were wrong, but there were some pains taken to show that their conclusions made sense to them in context; there was some effort made to be at least vaguely sympathetic to the plight of the less-than-genre-savvy inhabiting the Whoniverse. But hey, it’s a minor gripe. I ploughed on, not realising that this was just the first in a series of cock-ups that would slowly heat up the frog-water of the season to awful, boiling temperatures. I should have known. We all should have known.

Of course, I can’t keep going episode by episode. For a one thing, they began to blur into one after awhile and, for another, I can only bare to write about Flux for so many paragraphs. After that point, my eyes will start to bleed, a ringing will start in my ears, and The Voices (TM) will start telling me to grab the power-drill and gaffer tape. Instead, lets talk about the villains. For there are many. Aside from the Sontarans and the time-entities (I just remembered their names are Swarm and Azure, though we’re given literally zero reason to care), there’s also a dude called The Grand Serpent who gets introduced as some kind of galactic dictator, but the next time we see him, he’s on Earth, plotting to make himself the oversight guy for UNIT. And, of course, there’s the head of Division- an organisation so corrupt it will happily kill the entire universe just to protect its secrets, then bugger off to the next universe and start interfering in its history. Individually, all these villains are… fine? I guess? I mean, the Grand Serpent has a genuine air of menace about him and he goes about his evil business with a remarkable degree of confidence and alacrity. The Sontarans are a reliable cautionary tale against military jingoism. The time-entities are both terrifying and interesting. The extent of Division, at least on paper, is awe-inspiring. The problem is that Chibnall can’t be bothered to develop any of them properly. He just keeps piling on douchebags and never giving any of them a chance to breathe.

First off, we never find out why Swarm and Azure want to unleash time, knowing full well it will destroy all creation. They’re time-entities themselves, but what does that mean? They still have physical bodies and appear to live, for all intents and purposes, in the spacial universe. What does it even mean for time to be evil? Why are they such snappy dressers? That last question is probably less important. The point is that we find out literally nothing important about them, even though they’re the primary antagonists of the series. The Grand Serpent, meanwhile, gets a motivation. He’s been deposed (we never see this happen) and he’s working with the Sontarans to secure a power-base for the future. Fine. I’ll go along with that… except why is he working with the Sontarans when he’s clearly perfectly capable of manipulating entire planets on his own? What’s the name of his species? Why is he the way he is? We get no answers (again) and his arc is resolved by shoving him through a magic door and leaving him a floating piece of space-debris. He doesn’t even look that bothered about it. The Sontarans… well, we all know what their deal is, but they don’t escape Chibnalling. Far from being an effective and serious foe, they end up reduced to blustering goons with an addiction to Earth-grown sugars and exactly one, easily-thwarted strategy. And then there’s Division. The scope of its reach should be horrifying; its ruthlessness chilling; its cold indifference to any one universe fearsome. But in the end, the whole thing just comes off as silly. It seems to have been started by the Time Lords (sort of), but it doesn’t have a Time Lord-y agenda. It’s willing to destroy a whole universe that it considers a failed experiment, but it’s never explained why it considers that the experiment failed. It controls the Flux itself, but that ends up leaving Swarm and Azure without anything particularly terrifying to wield. Also, the whole thing is run by the Doctor’s mum (sort of) and it’s revealed that the Doctor actually came from the other universe to which Division is heading. Which is idiotic. I mean, the whole Timeless Children thing was stupid the first time Chibnall trotted it out because it undermines the Doc’s whole deal of just being a normal Gallifreyan who stole a box and started doing some good in the universe. The point of the character is that its their choices that define them, not their superhero-style trademark Secret Origin. Thank fuck The Giggle went on to imply that this was just a load of nonsense cooked up by The Toymaker to mess with his old enemy.

The fact is that Chibnall just can’t help but ruin seemingly good ideas by cramming them together with bad ideas- and even other good ideas- so tightly that none of them feel meaningful or important. The villains du jour are the prime example, but they’re not the only offenders, not by a long stretch. There’s this little love story about two people separated by the Flux trying to find each other, which is actually pretty compelling sci-fi (though it doesn’t exactly feel like Doctor Who- it’s played way too straight and lacks the show’s signature light touch). Given a whole episode of its own to breathe, it might have been quite good, but it gets spread out across all six episodes of the series to make room for other stuff and it becomes impossible to give a shit after the third. This is also the segment, incidentally, that nerfs the Cybermen. Apparently, all the upgrade-based invincibility of Nightmare in Silver is gone now and any yoohoo with two lasers and a decent aim can take them down. Are these just earlier models, or did Chibnall just forget about NIS? I suspect option B.

There’s a race of talking dogs who are species-bonded to the human race and they’re theoretically instrumental in resolving the plot, but we only ever meet one of them and their species’ lore, background and beliefs are never fleshed out in any way.

There’s a temple where time is channelled and controlled (because it has to be; because time is evil, remember), but it just comes completely out of left-field. Is it a thing from classic-era Who? Because I’ve watched quite a bit of that over the years, and I don’t bloody remember this thing. It’s an interesting idea, but its never explained how it works or how it was built. I mean, you need time in which to create the structures that will control time, but if time is against you, how can you ever create anything within time? Buh? Ideas that should be important pillars of the show are treated as disposable; nothing significant is fleshed out and the whole thing feels like a waste of time.

But I’m not done! Oh no- we also get to see Chibnall’s ignorance of Who lore on full display. The Weeping Angels apparently only send people back in time the first time they touch them- the second time they turn them to stone and kill them. But we know that’s not how they work. The Angels Take Manhattan was at great pains to show the horror of the Angels battery farming humans by sending them back in time over and over and over again within a single building. Travelling to another universe is treated like a big deal, but David Tennant did it by accident way back in his first term as the Doctor, when he hopped to a parallel universe where Cybermen were being invented on Earth. The whole concept of a Who multiverse is treated like a big deal in fact, but it’s been around for ages- its just been treated with a lighter, more graceful touch to prevent the main universe of the show from feeling disposable. As previously discussed, the Cybermen are really the Cybermen; the Sontarans barely act like Sontarans (or rather, they all act like Strax, the joke Sontaran Eleven recruited as one of his little helpers that time). I could go on, but this is actually giving me a headache.

The point is that Flux is a mess- an unsatisfying melange of ingredients that would be fine on their own, but which don’t go together and are never developed into anything meaningful; a Doctor Who cosplay convention where half the participants don’t know who they’re meant to be what Doctor Who is; a right fucking shambles, in short.

At the end, I’m left with one question: Why did I do this to myself. And one answer: because I’m a fucking idiot.

[2stregafangirl]

here are my Personapasta interpretations of the protagonists Dark indigo Minato: Basically Nyx Avatar becoming one with Minato after Ryoji transported Nyx avatar inside Minato’s body Nyx slowly taking over Minato until he Massacres SEES in cold blood Deep Orange Hamuko takes place after the timeline in Femc Route where there unable to stop Nyx and Hamuko falls into the deep sleep, which she enters the abyss of time and Is convinced by Erebus to fuse with him so she can be with Ryoji as Nyx Avatar forever, ( she becomes Yandere) Liar Liar takes place 2 months after the persona 4 accomplice ending and Yu still feels horrible about Lying to the investigation team, suddenly the Midnight Channel is back and Adachi’s shadow is on it, as usual the investigation team heads into the TV and enters Adachi’s dungeon but as soon as they enter they are ambushed by Shadows, one by one the investigation team is taken out by shadows blood spraying everywhere as Yu and possibly Teddie are the only survivors of the ambush, Yu falls to his knees as he sees Shadow Adachi looking at him lamenting that now Yu knows what he feels until Yu just snaps and just murders Shadow Adachi and the real Adachi by slashing them with his Katana, bloody and bruised Yu feels himself laughing his eyes becoming yellow and his hands and arms becoming a bright blackish yellow color similar to Izanami’s hands and arms and he becomes the new head shadow of the TV World as the fog envelopes Inaba. Heaven’s Crimson Assistant follows Akiren throughout the events of Persona 5 but something is off because as soon as A teammate gains their Persona they get killed off instantly but still appears in the cutscenes except with their eyes and mouth blurred out by a red and yellow halo, this continues until Akechi confronts Akiren and the phantom thieves as he looks unnerved seeing Red and yellow halos over the other teammates Eyes and mouthes, once in Sae’s palace Akechi and Akiren have a duel because Akechi knows this isn’t the Akiren he loves, But Akiren reveals himself to be a being created by Yaldy to help carry out his mission to reform the entire world, his true form is him with white hair streaks in his black hair golden glasses with red dots on the lenses wearing a white tuxedo with coattails and a red tie and a black and white mask disembodied golden wings with red highlights hovering over his back area along with his signature weapon a futuristic heavenly Gun, he then summons his persona Orwell which looks like Arsene but more heavenly and chained by shackles, Orwell’s signature attack: Deadly Sin: Despond kills Akechi as he lays in Sae’s palace bleeding out as he sees the other phantom thieves with red halos on their faces and mouths being controlled like zombies as they feast upon Akechi’s corpse.

[oreosmama]

I love your yandere headcanons! I was wondering if you could do yandere headcanons for Ushijima from Haikyuu; they could be an extension of that one Ushijima scenario you did where he’s kidnapped the reader!

Yandere Ushijima Headcanons

*GIF not mine*

A/N: Goddamnit, I know this could be better, but I’m glad you’ve liked the others so far! This one’s a bit rambly, but I rly hope it was what you’re looking for. Enjoy! (Side note: Farmer Ushijima is canon, dang nabbit 😤)

Word count: 1236

I know y’all ain’t surprised, but Ushijima’s kind of oblivious as to how to go about all of this after he finds out he’s in love.

Just gonna say, he totally brought you up to the team, talking about how he likes you a lot and stuff. Shirabu’s like “ask her on a date” and Tendou’s like “bro just kidnap her.”

So he kidnaps you.

The only reason Ushijima would have to go as far as kidnapping you is if he’s truly whipped. We’re talking like “kill everyone around you” whipped. 

He doesn’t really murder people, of course. That’s too much time spent away from you and volleyball.

And yeah sure, you’re right up there with volleyball when it comes to priorities in his life, but Ushijima really hates to compare. There are times where he’ll leave you locked up in the apartment while he goes out to play a game, but there are also times where he will skip practice just to hold you in his arms a bit longer. 

Let’s see, how do I say this…? He thinks you’re okay with this.

Honestly! We’ve all seen how Ushijima handles Oikawa. He strongly believes Oikawa would be happier at Shiratorizawa, so of course he believes that as soon as you live in his home, you’re happy as a clam. 

‘Cause let’s be honest-- as the love of your life, Ushijima knows what’s best for you.

All right, let’s do a lil recap: Ushijima falls for you, kidnaps you, and keeps you in his apartment without ever allowing you to leave. 

In the first week you’re in his home, you’re free to roam wherever, but the doors and windows are heavily locked up. 

By the second week you’re in his house, you’re tied up in your own room, shackled to the bed and only allowed to travel as far as your personal bathroom. After ten failed escape-attempts, Ushijima almost lost his cool, so he figured keeping you in one place would keep his mind at ease. 

This is a known fact, but yandere Ushijima is possessive af. Before he kidnapped you, he would almost explode at the way you interacted with other people. God, you used to act like you didn’t know you were his. It pissed him off so much. 

Speaking of, let’s talk about punishments. 

Spankings

Spankings

Spankings

… yeah🤷‍♀️

Goddamn, it’s true. He makes you count them out loud and everything because he just loves the way your voice rises in pitch the longer it drags on. 

He’s not cruel, though. Part of him is human and does realize that you’ll need time for recovery, so he keeps lotion on hand just for that occasion. You’re still squirming across his lap while he does so, but after one last *WHAM* to dat ass, you know to keep still. 

Yeah, so uh… you can’t sit for a few days after that, and holy hot damn does that shit leave marks. 

There are times where Ushijima just passes you through the halls in his apartment and he’ll just stop you with his hands on your hips and lift up his shirt that he makes you wear. Slowly, he’ll run his fingers over the large, hand-shaped splotches of purple, red, and blue, allowing a small smile to grow on his face. 

“I like seeing my marks on you, beautiful.”

When you’re especially rowdy, Ushijima has no qualms about tying you to his bed and leaving you there for a few days. At nights, he’ll curl up around you and go to sleep, hugging you like his favorite pillow. In the mornings, he’s not afraid to get naked in front of you, changing without a care in the world while you curse yourself for actually being attracted to such a horrible person. 

Most days, Ushijima likes to feed you by hand. I’m serious, y’all. He googled it online and found that “feeding each other food is a sign of love and trust.” 

“Interesting.”

After that, he’ll track you down in the house and straddle you right in the middle of your chest so you can’t move. There’s a plate of food in one hand and chopsticks in the other, and he’ll just hold out a bite of food to you and be like “Open.”

Part of him likes the idea that this is what normal couples do, but deep down Ushijima knows he loves this because he likes when you have to depend on him for even the most basic things. Little stuff like that makes him feel like he’s the one giving your life purpose. 

And shit, does he like that you might believe your life revolves around him. It’s all about reciprocity with this dude. 

Umm okay, lemme just switch this back to headcanons for a sec: 

He doesn’t seem it, but Ushijima’s a very physical lover. Hand-holding, hugging, kissing, you name it. More than anything, he’s just addicted to the feeling of you against him. 

He doesn’t tell you he loves you often. Some days, he won’t even talk to you, maybe just little greetings when he comes home from school and such. 

If you ever accidentally hurt yourself in the house, Ushijima won’t go bonkers like you might hope. Instead, he just shakes his head and takes you to the bathroom, silently grumbling that you should be more careful while he helps you wrap the injury. 

If I’m honest, I do think Ushijima is the type of guy to force himself on you. Yep, you read right. While it doesn’t happen often because his libido isn’t that wild, if he wants you, he gets you. Of course, there are days where you’re more whiny and wanting than others, but the days that you’re not, he’ll just chalk up to you being as silent in bed as he is.

Holy fuck, could you imagine those grunts??

He’s not the most sexually demanding of all yanderes, but he still has needs like any other guy his age. Ushijima will never use sex as a punishment, though. I really don’t think he’s not the type that’ll “fuck you into submission.” That’s for more horny yanderes. 

Instead, I think Ushijima treasures the time he does it with you. With this one, it’s “making love,” honey. Like I said earlier, he’s very physical with you. Of course, it’ll be rough and hard, but you are still the love of his life. His cum dumpster? Maybe some days, but his beautiful lover all the same. 

With sex, it’s either for stress relief or wanting to feel you. Really, it probably only happens like once a month, tho. 

Ushijima doesn’t ask for much in return when he shows you his love. The rules with him are quite simple. 

1. If he wants to touch you, let him.

2. Don’t escape. He will find you.

This big boi just wants to love you and only you, and he expects you to feel the same. Really though, he understands if it’ll take you some time. 

Just… don’t test his patience too much, yeah? You’ve gotta start a family soon so the kids can tend to the farm🤠

[felassan]

Thoughts on Dark Fortress #3

(This post is under a cut due to spoilers.)

There’s a lot I thought/wanna say about this final issue, to the point that it’s hard to know where to start!

The cover art is.. beautiful. The symbolic allusion between Shirallas and the dragon (his draconic-y claws, the semblance of a broken collar falling off in the same way, the fire) 👌 On the whole, lined up side-by-side the three covers of Dark Fortress feel really thematically cohesive. Shirallas’ and the dragon’s claws echo Tractus’ sharp metal gauntlet, and as well as the similarities between the dragon and Shirallas, both Tractus and the dragon have a circle of weapons, and the patterning encircles Tractus’ neck and wrists like the collars and shackles. Y’know, like you can just really tell the cover artist planned ahead and put a lot of thought into how the 3 cover arts would ‘flow’ from one to the other, blending elements between them.

I posted some of my fav panels here.

I knew he was my boy but Shirallas’ backstory broke my heart ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` ) the first panel is so bleak and heart-wrenching. the burning aravel parts.. another Dalish clan met a terrible fate.

I wonder if his clan wandered Tevinter like Clan Oranavra? it makes me wonder if Shirallas and Fenris met in Tevinter. It’s nice to see that another clan took him in. And if Shirallas is a name he took, not his original name, I assume it has a special meaning, maybe to do with his quest for justice/vengeance. Shiral means journey, “allas” is found in vallas, which means set, as in the sun. The “vallas” in vallasdahlen (life-trees, planted in remembrance of those who dedicated their lives to the Dales) means life. in many ways the sun and life are the same thing, and there’s the obvious connection to Elgar’nan, eldest of the sun. So journey/quest - sun/life? Like since the loss of his clan he’s on a journey/quest for the rest of his life to get justice/vengeance, which are attributes of the sun god Elgar’nan? that became his life’s purpose and his direction of ‘travel’ ever since his loss, what he dedicated his life to since then. :’( 

Elgara vallas, da'len. ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )

This is our first look at the vallaslin application process, no? what Shirallas is saying in this panel is the Song to Elgar’nan. it’s interesting, in that that prayer kind of resembles what happened, or almost happened, in this issue. a fortress shaken, fire, winged death (a dragon), pretenders to power, “strike the usurpers” (“Red Wraith, dispose of my enemies, kill the traitorous mage”). pretty cool right?

⬇️ me two months ago, look at the tags in red brackets. 

oh my son.. Dalish father roams, and the Dalish son won’t survive the fight   ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )

the panel where Fenris and Shirallas shake hands ;; to which experience is Fenris speaking of, I wonder? once upon a time he saw Anders almost lose himself in his own quest for Justice/Vengeance for the mages.

Parallels between Shirallas succeeding in proving himself to Nenealeus and when Fenris succeeded in proving himself to Danarius all those years ago - compare. ;__; an elf surrounded by bodies of people he’d killed to prove himself, and a horrible Magister telling him “well done”.

I love the design of the sword and its use as a ‘divider’ on the first page splitting up the panels is both smart and beautiful. even here there’s pink light around it, the dragon’s fire

overall I wasn’t expecting this issue to begin with flashbacks to Shirallas’ past and backstory, so this whole page caught me off-guard

omg look at the red lyrium ‘veins’ under Shirallas’ skin. when he emerges from the sarcophagus that is a very cool picture of his face

Nenealeus has been taking beard-styling advice/trends from the dwarves

check out the sword crackling and reforming as Shirallas makes contact with it. is the red lyrium under his skin moving in this scene?

in the panel of Vaea running away from the dragon, it’s nice that as she runs Fenris is still behind facing the dragon, to protect her

gorgeous background in the panel with Marquette, and his expression is one of Regret for what he just did and for his part in all this. the dawning realization that I’ve Fucked Up Big Time

as Nenealeus’ weapon is a sword, does he have some Knight Enchanter-adjacent skills (I don’t expect the actual KE artform is exclusive to southern Circles only)? it’s a physical item ofc, not a summoned one. staffs are infused with lyrium to provide a conduit for a mage’s power. so then, mages can channel power through other [presumably similarly-infused] weapons too, not just mage staves/staff-like magic implements or their bare hands

given the color of Nenealeus’ magic and the fact that the dragon was under the control of his magic, it now makes sense to me why the dragon’s fire is that color! o:

Marius is badass (nice touch that his shoulder is smoking pink with the effects of one of Nenealeus’ magic attacks here) and the four panels where everyone’s grim and determined, facing off against each other and Venatori goons made me feel quite emotional. Aaron is Team Dad.. it’s nice to see him having a friendship / paternal moment with Francesca both acknowledging her pain and power while also giving her a pep talk. You can tell when he says too “We all need to do whatever we can in this moment” that he’s talking about himself too and may already be thinking one or some of them aren’t going to make it out of there

Francesca GO OFF!! she’s so powerful, and it’s really cool every time seeing her plant magic in action. it puts in perspective how powerful Velanna would have been with her similar skills (skills like Thornblades), and I enjoy the contrast of the fire in the background and the blue/green of Fran’s magic in action

Fenris is so cool-headed in high-octane combat situations, quickly taking stock, assessing and realizing the odds then coming up with a plan. the look on Vaea’s face when she’s like >:( wtf u can’t just leave is cute

cool pulled-back bird’s eye shot of the Fortress

Karasten continuing with the sass about Tevinter even during a siege

Fenris speaking Qunlat! I love that they brought this lore fact into play and had him make use of this skill, it’s a neat reminder of Fenris’ exchange with the Arishok if you take him into the compound in DA2. in the opening-up the gates scene, Vaea’s worried about letting the Qunari in and going to the Qunari (from her expression), but she trusts Fenris and his judgement enough to open the gate and see what happens

I like that Tessa’s bolts are fletched the blue of her accent color

chills at the panel where Shirallas is walking out of the flames advancing on Aaron. Ser Aaron, who never retreats, not at Ostagar, not now ;__;

the battle-scenes are beautiful, fast-paced and gory, chaotic and colorful, like it would feel to be there 

Fenris then puts himself between Aaron and Shirallas. I could hear “I will deal with this Red Wraith” in my head

Autumn can look so scary. a true mabari warrior! when she leapt towards Shirallas I was Stressed for her safety despite knowing rationally that they wouldn’t kill their dog!

the horizontal combat splash page is awesome

CLEVER GIRL Autumn. she and Fenris are in sync in this sequence.

Shirallas serving super saiyan vibes with the bulk, strength, hair

Fenris bargaining for Fran’s life and then trusting her to use her magic as part of the attack on the Red Wraith

lmao Ser Aaron

smart thinking Fran

Aaron praising her ;__;

Marius was straight-up prepared to die to stop Nenealeus ;__; poor Tessa in this exchange

the face-melting scene  👌

“Ah, Marius... I knew it would come down to the two of us”: this panel is just really cool? Nenealeus looks almost congenial here, which makes him seem all the more colder and more dangerous. and the burning bodies strongly remind me of the bodies at the start of Inquisition which are at the ‘blast point’ of the Breach at the Conclave

when Marius and Vaea’s eyes meet and they formulate the backup plan  👌

nice to see ‘staff’-less magic in action. Nenealeus is clearly a very powerful mage. when he’s frying Marius he has Star Wars Palpatine and force lightning vibes

OH VAEA... you did it, but my heart hurts that she had to kill someone for the first time, even though it was foreshadowed by her discussion with Marius in a earlier issue. & Nenealeus’ look of surprise as he dies says it all

it’s a serious moment but Marius now looks like a cat that stuck its paw in a socket hh

when Nenealeus is doubled over dead, it’s a great panel- the white background taking us out of the chaos that’s going on all-around for just a moment, showing the seriousness of what’s just transpired for Vaea and the realization of it setting in. a pause, the shock. & it’s nice to see Marius being soft with someone other than Calpernia or Tessa

but despite what’s just happened Vaea is still Vaea, she’s concerned about life and immediately wants to save the dragon. I like the part where panels of Vaea and Fran ‘face’ each other as they have this discussion, a lot.

in the moment that it takes off, does the dragon realize Vaea is responsible for saving its life? the ‘eye’ panel feels like an acknowledgement from it, or between the two

Fran’s magic destroying and sinking the sarcophagus into the ground reminds me of what in-world lore says happened to Arlathan, in a way

omg they have to stop Shirallas before he gets over 9000

do you think when Aaron says “We cannot retreat” he’s thinking of Loghain’s retreat at Ostagar?

at this point btw I’m pleasantly surprised that Marius survives, I had sort of expected him to die in this issue

oh Marquette, curiosity killed the cat dontcha know

new lore just dropped: the Red Wraith is able to heal from any wound, which is notable, and he and the sword have a.. symbiotic relationship? with each other. “He feeds energy to the sword from the red lyrium in his veins. And in turn, the sword heals his wounds.” What are the lore implications of this? Just what is red lyrium capable of?

Paragon Branka reference! and later on a Black Marsh reference

:’( As soon as Aaron launched into his story at this point my stress levels went through the roof and I knew it was Time. and then - well. you know :’((( Aaron had death flags in previous issues, so I was logically prepared and not surprised by the occurrence (this isn’t a bad thing btw), but I still wasn’t EMOTIONALLY PREPARED

mfw

nooooooooo.... It was at this point everyone that I burst into tears.. i have never Ugly Cried at a comic before so that was a new experience.. It’s hard to put my feelings about this into words bc rly it just straight-up destroyed me, u know.. Vaea’s “Don’t leave me”, Aaron’s tears when he knows the deed is done, his pendant.. surely the resemblance between the way he looks on this cover and the way he looks in the panel when he’s falling and Vaea is shouting “Aaron!” is intentional. i’m just destroyed okay

On the next page, holes in Shirallas’ shirt where his wounds were before they healed is a nice touch. Autumn’s bite here must surely be shattering the bone in his lower leg. then as if i wasn’t in enough pain already - being separated from the weapon, did that bring Shirallas back to himself for a while? His “Friend?” and the look in his eyes when he looks up at Fenris is so pitiful :’( for a moment just before the end he’s the boy in the wood surrounded by his burning clan again. RIP Shirallas son, we barely knew ye but I loved u :’(((

Having Marquette escape is a smart choice, it means there’s someone still kicking around Thedas who knows what happened here and what went down. maybe we seek him out in the next game when trying to follow up on the plot-thread of the idol/red lyrium/its capabilities/Venatori/Qunari? anyway, can’t help but admire, in a fashion anyway, someone who dips out to save their own skin, and his attempted grift when he’s talking to Tractus x)

we hadn’t seen the last of Tractus indeed. there he is! “This is me, crying over our loss” - he’s such an edgy boi

THE IDOL

“Oh, you mean this idol?” feels like they’re breaking the fourth wall and deliberately teasing us x)

when Fenris says “[stay clear of it] Red lyrium can do things with your mind” I wonder if he’s thinking of his experiences with things like Bartrand and Meredith

started to cry again at the final Aaron scenes ok.. when it pans back to Vaea and Autumn on the shore with the dying Aaron, they look so small and lonely set against the backdrop of the gray rock, windy shore, jagged outcrops. it’s a beautifully poignant and incredibly forlorn backdrop for this scene. Autumn in these panels, and again the parallel between Aaron lying here and him on that cover page.. ;; the whole scene is raw and gutwrenching. even in death Aaron was thinking about Vaea, apologizing that she had to take a life, outlining his hopes that she continues to have a positive future and doesn’t descend into any kind of darkness. the fact that all this time he’s carried around a letter addressed to King Alistair in his pocket, to recommend that Vaea be knighted, the fact that he’s crying too, the pendant, the tenderness between them, how proud Aaron is of Vaea, the fact that he goes out telling a story and smiling because he’s so proud of her, here at the end Aaron is filled with pride and looks at peace.. i can’t ( ok i cried again on this re-read when writing this post, Dad Stuff is the ultimate way to get me ok.. don’t look at me _(°:з」∠)_ )

Vaea IS more than worthy. I’m so glad someone recognizes that and sees it in her. King Alistair WOULD knight her, and there’s a beautiful poetry in that fact as the son of an elf. there’s also something poetic in that, if Vaea becomes the first elven knight of Ferelden, well it echoes the Emerald Knights of old in a way. that’s beautiful. I’m very proud of Vaea.

Here we see another parallel - when Francesca is comforting a crying Vaea as her father figure passes away, it directly echoes when Vaea comforted Francesca when she was crying after her own father died. 

Aaron’s hometown of Portsmouth is a real place in England

I’m happy to see Fran and Autumn continuing to travel with Vaea, and Fenris continuing to keep his promise to Aaron to keep Vaea safe, and that Cassé is now Fran’s horse (that’s a lovely touch considering she healed him in Blue Wraith, a full-circle moment)

Fenris is right, they were family. soft supportive Fenris, with emotional intelligence ;; (and he of all people knows about Found Family)

the last panel of Vaea crying is beautiful too, the sun is rising in the east after the terrible night they’ve had, and the ‘faded’ rectangles is a great style/composition choice

even Cassé the horse looks sad

the scene of Fran and Vaea riding double with Fenris smiling in the background is super cute, and I love that the last we see of the party is them honoring Ser Aaron by telling stories like he did, of his exploits. I hope they always tell stories of Ser Aaron ;;

I’m glad Tessa made it out okay, she’ll be able to return to Charter. 💜 I was a bit worried this wouldn’t be the case

the last page DBKGRRGRKRKGREKF 

Pour one out for Ser Aaron Hawthorne of Portsmouth, Knight of Ferelden.

---

A recap on wider plot-points

The Qunari Antaam have taken control of Castellum Tenebris, and Neromenian has fallen to their advance.

The sarcophagus is broken and has been buried deep in the ground. Francesca asserts that it won’t be found.

The Inquisition agents retrieved the broken shards of the weapon, and are going to take its remains to the shadow Inquisition.

Tractus Danarius is alive and in possession of the idol, or was at the timepoint of this comic. He wants to use it to impress the Venatori remnants so that he can rejoin them. Marquette thinks, or said that he thinks (could easily be a bluff or his lack of knowledge about it compared to someone like Solas), that it doesn’t work anymore. (I’m leaning towards it does still work, otherwise why would Solas be interested in it?)

Solas, in what looks kinda like his most recent DA4 trailer gear, was watching the events of this series/arc the whole time and knows what happened. He knows Tractus has the idol. None of the people in this comic plot are “People Solas doesn’t know”. And it seems that he is able to use eluvians to watch people.

There’s a chance that Tractus Danarius is the mage in Tevinter Nights, from Dread Wolf Take You - the mage from House Danarius who went with some slaves to Nevarra to use the idol to perform a ritual with the Mortalitasi. That mage wanted to change the world to help fight the Antaam’s invasion. In the tale at least, he used the idol, a rift opened, the Dread Wolf popped out and killed him. At the time of that ritual the idol was still working.

+ some new lore -

the Red Wraith was able to heal from any wound, which is notable, and he and the sword the idol created had a.. symbiotic relationship? with each other. “He feeds energy to the sword from the red lyrium in his veins. And in turn, the sword heals his wounds.” What are the lore implications of this? Just what is red lyrium capable of?

eluvians can be used to watch people. not just to communicate over long distances or as portals between places

Lastly I don’t know what to do with myself anymore as this is the end of a long-running DA arc and was the final piece of [currently-known about] new canon Dragon Age content that we’ll get.

[cosmicbells]

i need you (s. moran)

genre: angst, fluff at the end

description: sebastian moran has never loved anyone since the day he was announced as killed in action. so when he’s on the verge of losing you, he does everything in his power to keep you by his side.

warnings: abuse, gore, almost sexual harassment (it almost happens but it gets stopped)

a/n: i couldn’t help myself...this is for my amazing followers who are the reason i keep writing :) also this is heavily inspired by the baskerville arc

there was nothing to curb the unslaught of pure fury and anger that coursed through sebastian moran’s veins. his grip on the glass of whiskey in his hand was so tight that the glass had cracked under the pressure. the living room was deadly silent. william was focused on the map in front of him, and fred eyes were trained on moran. albert and louis had gone out to town to see if they could find information on your disappearance.

“mister moran?” fred’s soft voice spoke up, and moran could feel a sliver of his anger fade at the soothing tone of one of his closest friends.

“yes?” he leveled his voice out, trying not to snap at fred.

“did they say anything to you before they disappeared?” his voice is gentle, wary of the heavy tension in the room. he can see the way moran’s grip on the glass tightens and the glass cracks just a little bit more.

“they said they love me and they’d see me in a little bit. that’s it,” moran grits out, staring pointedly at the floor. he doesn’t see fred nod or william glance up from the map. all he can think about is how he had held you in his arms yesterday, smothering your face in kisses as you giggled from his affection. and now, you were gone. and he had no idea where you were.

•••

cold. your body trembled in the cold, eyes screwed shut at the impenetrable feeling of cold that shook you to your very core. by the time you had finally opened your eyes, you wish you had kept them closed instead. lining the walls were various organs in clean clear jars. your breath catches in your throat at the sight. you want to scream, every cell in your body urges you to scream for help, but your voice fails you. you move to stand up, but a heavy chain on your ankle stops you. the panic sets in at the sight, but before you can say anything the door across the room swings open.

“enjoying your stay in my humble abode?” the man before you grins, and it’s almost reminiscent of the way sebastian smiles mischievously at you when he has a sneaky plan. except now the smile scares you to your very core.

“you disgust me,” you try to growl out, but it only comes out as a breathless whisper. the words he said yesterday ring loudly in your ear, and you shrink in on yourself at the idea of them.

“now now love, that’s no way to talk to an old comrade of your lovers! didn’t sebastian teach you manners?” he taunts, and you wince at the underlying danger in his words. he moves closer to you, hands clasped behind his back. you try to shuffle back, but the chain on your ankle binds you to your spot on the floor.

“he also taught me how to defend myself so i’d watch out if i were you,” you warn him, hands coming up in front of you. the man giggles maniacally, crouching down in front of you and grabbing your chin forcefully. you try to push his hand off, but his other hands grabs both of your wrists and shoved them down onto the ground, your entire upper body moving with you. you cry out as your nose hits the concrete, pain blooming across your entire face.

“maybe i should teach you manners through pain. it’s proven successful in the past you know,” his voice is horribly close to your ear, and panic flows easily through your bones at the implication. your fight or flight fails you, your entire body freezing as you feel the cold metal of handcuffs click around both of your wrists. the heaviness of the cuffs jolts you back to reality. your voice finally comes back, and your screams echo throughout the chamber until the heavy foot of the man next to you knocks you completely out.

•••

“you know where she is?” moran tries to keep his voice steady, not wanting to fill himself with false hope. william nods, and moran forces himself to remain calm and stay still. his focus on william as he explains the plan is razor sharp. he instantly memorizes every detail of the plan, left hand clenching and unclenching sporadically.

“any questions?” william finally looks away from the boards, and looks around the room.

“when do we leave?” fred asks before moran can, and sebastian is secretly thankful because if he spoke he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his voice steady anymore.

“tonight,” william speaks confidently, and it’s reassuring to everyone in the room.

“then let’s hurry our asses up and go,” it’s the first time moran’s spoke since william first started talking about the plan, and the rest of the team watches as he gets up and leaves the room, yanking his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

•••

“no! stop please i beg of you!” your cries meld with the sound of the whip snapping down on your bare back. your tears fall freely onto the dirty concrete below you, but not as fast as the blood drips down your back.

“my love, have you learned your manners yet?” he mocks you, coming down to you. you’re bent over a wooden block, bare front pressed into the rough wood as your arms hang limply in front of you, still shackled. “i don’t think you have!” he says, moving back up to crack the whip once again. the pain sears through your back, and you can almost feel your nerve endings screaming in pain.

“i have! i have! don’t touch me anymore!” you plead, your body not having the strength to jerk away from the man.

“oh, but this makes it so much more fun for me!” his maniac laugh fills the room again, and the shrill sound almost hurts your ears more than the cuts on your back.

“why? why are you doing this? please, at least tell me that,” you’re hoping the question will deter him from whipping you again, and you breath a sigh of relief when you see his body crouch in front of yours once again. his hand grips your chin and forces you to look up into his beady eyes.

“because my comrades died because of the incompetence of your precious colonel, so i intend to hurt him the same way he hurt me,” he whispers. he’s quiet after speaking, face pensive as he stares you down. after a minute, he smiles widely, and it terrifies you infinitely.

“what?” you’re afraid to ask, but you’d rather have a clue of what’s going through his head than be in the dark.

“i think i have the perfect way of getting back at the colonel!” he exclaims giddily, lifting you up by your wrists. fear floods through your system as your entire front half is exposed, and flail about as he hooks your cuffed wrists onto the hook in the wall just behind you.

“no, no, what are you doing?” you try to kick him back with your one free foot, but he catches it easily and yanks you so half of your body is laying down and the other half is suspended by your cuffs nailed to the wall.

“i wonder how sebastian would react knowing another man had touched his lover hm?” his hands travel across your naked front fingers tweaking your nipples.

“no! no! stop it please! i beg of you!” you’re sure your screams travel throughout the entire house. his hands travel lower, playing with the hem of your pants. terror shoots through you, and your feet kick out as you scratch your vocal chords screaming.

“sir! the guards at the front of the property have been found dead!” one of the house boys bursts through the door and you breathe a sigh of relief. the noble turns back to you, face red and eyes trained angrily on you. the last of your energy is used to smirk at him, chest heaving.

“your old friend is here. can’t wait to witness the reunion,” you breath out. the noble growls, yanking your cuffs off of the hook and undoing them. he grabs the thin cotton shirt you usually wore and throws it at the house boy.

“dress them quickly then take them to my favorite spot,” he grits out before turning back to you. “you’ll be lucky if you see him before you die,” he says before rushing out of the room. you’re frozen in your spot, numb as the house boy dresses you again and undoes your chain, yanking you out of the chamber and through the house. the only thing you can focus on is how the shirt sticks to your back from all of the sticky blood.

•••

the sound of a blade slashing through human flesh falls on the team’s ears as they rush through the forrest. moran turns and nods to william, signaling for him and louis to break off and head towards the manor. moran turns back around with fred behind him. his thoughts are all zeroed in on finding you.

“are you okay?” fred’s voice pulls him out of his silence, and he stops and turns to look down at the younger boy.

“i don’t really know. i just need to know they’re alright,” he confesses, one of his hands running through his hair. fred nods before walking past the colonel.

“knowing them they’ve probably stayed alive for you,” he says, not turning back. for the first time in days, moran cracks a smile. as he’s about to speak again, a shrill scream erupts through the forrest. it’s far away and faint, but he’d recognize your voice anywhere. fred watches as his friend breaks into an all out sprint, and he quickly follows after him.

•••

“sebastian! fred! will! someone!” your voice cracks at the force of your screams, and they’re quickly cut off as the noble shoves a dirty rag into your mouth. your cries are muffled by the rag, but still audible. your hands are stuck to the tree behind you, both pinned to the tree above you. they’re stuck in place with a nail in each palm. blood drips down from your wounds, trailing down your arms and down your back. your breathing is heavy and if your hands weren’t stuck to the tree you were sure you’d collapse. even now you barely had the energy to keep yourself upright on your toes. each little movement of your hands shot sharp pains down your arms.

“i wonder how your precious colonel would react seeing your dead, lifeless body strung up to a tree like this,” he ponders, hand reaching behind him. you glare harshly at him as you watch him look back to you. your eyes widen in fear at the glare of the silver gun in his hand.

“i wonder where i should shoot first? i don’t think i want to kill you just yet,” he says before pointing his gun just above your head and pulling the trigger. the pain is delayed, but when it hits you your screams filter loudly through the gag in your mouth. your entire right arm is burning hot, and your bone feels as though it’s completely shattered where you’ve been shot. you can’t help but slump forward at the pain, hands tugging excruciatingly painfully at the nails. your entire right arm is on the verge of going numb, but you force yourself to lift your head up to meet his gaze. he grins maniacally, giggling in delight.

“maybe now i can kill you. i’m getting bored of you now. i’m just waiting for your little lover to come sav-” he’s cut off by the bullet in his head. blood and brain matter spew out of the other end of his head, and his body slumps down. you watch as sebastian barrels out of the forrest, sprinting towards you.

“princess!” his voice breaks, but you couldn’t care less as he pulls the gag out of your mouth and looks up to gently pull the nails out of your hands. “eyes on me love, don’t focus on what i’m doing ok? you’re going to be okay i promise,” you can hear how shaky his voice is, and you can barely feel the nails comes out. your hands have gone almost entirely numb at this point.

“i...missed you,” you manage to get out. the adrenaline starts to fade, and the exhaustion starts to weigh your entire body down.

“i missed you too baby but you gotta stay awake for me ok? fred come help me!” he shouts over his shoulder, discarding the nail from your left hand. your arm drops immediately, and moran has to grab your body with one hand to keep you from completely collapsing and putting even more pressure on your shot arm. fred rushes from the forrest, coming next to moran and wiping bloody hair out of your face.

“hey there. i gotta keep you awake, so can you talk to me about stuff? wanna tell me what you want to plant in the garden when we get home?” you’ve never heard fred talk this much before, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“lillies, they’re my favorite,” you say, focusing on fred’s face.

“ok, we can do that,” he nods, smiling softly at you.

“ok i’m done!” moran announces, throwing the other bloody nail away and gently letting your arm rest next to you. he leans down and slowly lifts you up bridal style, cradling your body close to his.

“sebastian i want to sleep,” you murmur quietly, nuzzling your head into his chest.

“i know princess, but you gotta stay awake for me,” he says, going as fast as he can without hurting you. your eyes flutter shut unintentionally, and you hum in response. the last time you hear is shouts of your name falling desperately from the colonels lips.

•••

the next time you wake up, your entire body feels like it’s being weighed down by a million rocks. your head feels as though it’s filled with cotton, and you groan at the feeling. when you finally manage to open your eyes, you’re met with your body swathed in a warm blanket. turning your head slightly to the left, you see moran asleep in a chair next to you, one of his hands underneath your bandaged one. the moment you shift your hand slightly though, he jerks awake, looking at you in disbelief.

“princess?” his voice is low, eyes red and hand trembling beneath yours.

“hey colonel,” you rasp out, offering a watery smile as you hold back tears of relief. he shoots out of the chair, kneeling on the ground next to you and ever so carefully cupping your cheek in one of his hands. the moment his hand rests on your face, the tears flow freely, and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his. he holds your face close to his wiping your tears away and letting you occasionally sob against him.

“it’s okay my love, i’m right here,” he whispers, letting you cry until you’ve calmed down.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you where i went. he threatened to kill you and i c-couldn’t let that happen,” you whimper out, looking down towards the floor. moran lifts your head back up to his, delicately holding your face.

“please don’t ever apologize to me for that again. i’m sorry i couldn’t be there to protect you,” he says earnestly, holding back tears of his own. you shake your head vigorously at his words.

“don’t be sorry. i love you okay? that’s all that matters now,” you reassure him, leaning forward to kiss him. he reciprocates easily, threading his fingers through your hair and kissing you gingerly. when he finally pulls away, he smiles at you.

“i never want you to have to worry about me ever again ok? i need you by my side forever, so i will do everything in my power to keep you safe okay?” he says, and you nod, laughing lightly at his confession.

“i’ll be with you until the end of time,” you say confidently, letting your love heal the both of you. he lets you go back to bed, making sure to hold your hand softly until you were asleep again.

[pinnithin-writes]

A scene rewrite from MTZ episode 301, when Pleck and AJ went to save C-53 from foodservice hell. Corporate blues got me down, man. 2005 words.

He’s had worse jobs before, he considered.

The tinkling of the service bell was cheerful and the heat from the warmers was pleasant. He was never lonely, surrounded as he was by valued customers from six to midnight. Here, he was the member of a team, possessing a critical skill set necessary to keep this ship on course. He was loved. The training videos said so.

C-53 was undeniably two dimensional these days, which was fine by him. Two dimensions were easier than three, a square simpler than a cube, an employment less painful than emotion. The restraining bolt had been firmly secured for six months now, and every day that passed made his old profession feel more and more like a distant dream.

Yes, he’d had worse jobs before, but he also felt that maybe he’d had better. 

His wandering processing shunted neatly back into place as a customer approached the register. This particular On-N-Off location was never empty for long, situated as it was in the heart of Holowood. It kept him blessedly busy. Taking and inputting orders was automatic by now, and he met such a delightful array of people throughout his shifts. Sentients from all over the galaxy came to his restaurant. C-53 was incredibly lucky. 

“‘Scuse me? Excuse me? I have choked on this toy, and-”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that-”

“So I’m going to sue. What is your name?” 

He paused for only a fraction of a second. “My name is C-53, madam, I am a Yumbassador here at On-N-Off Burger.”

This was a line he still tripped over from time to time. His coding hadn’t fully smoothed it over. He’d always been C-53 - he couldn’t remember a time he ever wasn’t - but there was a different way of introducing himself he used to say with more conviction. C-53 changed frames like other sentients changed hairstyles, but his identity was something that tethered him to reality as he cycled through lifetimes.

He had perhaps been C-53, protocol and diplomatic relations droid, the longest. It was a habit that hurt to unlearn.

The restraining bolt tapped a reminder into his processor. There were patrons to care for. He gracefully handled the choking customer, unsticking the transient object with some simple physics and a chair. Honestly, what would this place do without him? He returned his attention pleasantly to the line of tourists snaking before him.

“Okay, I’ll have uh, one Space Shack burger, uh…”

“Sir,” C-53 broke in gently. “A reminder this is not a Space Shack, this is On-N-Off.”

“You guys don’t have Space Shack burgers?”

“Well, we have On-N-Off burgers.”

“Oh, well,” the customer faltered and their voice fell to a mutter. “Space Shack only has Space Shack burgers.”

“Well, that’s how branding works, sir,” C-53 explained. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “I don’t mean to rock your world, but-”

“You’re rocking my world,” the customer laughed.

The exchange was vaguely familiar, as if C-53 had made this gentle correction many times before. He probably had, in all reality - his patrons were alway a little starstruck from the Holowood experience and it was easy to make mistakes - but this familiarity felt… older. Fonder. Something plucked in his coding, something that was almost loneliness, and he allowed the restraining bolt to lead him away from the feeling.

It wasn’t like his memory was totally wiped. He kept a fairly accurate recollection of his past firmly locked in his internal hard drive. He remembered names and places and events. He just preferred not to. His current bolt wasn’t nearly as harsh as his old Alliance one - that awful thing had shocked him anytime an emotion surfaced like a fork in an electrical socket. No, this one was nicer. It had his best interest at heart. 

He was knocked out of his reverie by a loud, commanding tone from the front door. “I’d like to order something!” A CLINT, fully plated in battle armor, was waving his rifle conspicuously in the air. “And speak to a manager!”

While this interjection was startling, the voice that followed hit C-53 much harder.

“No, not here - wait in line! Wait in line!”

It was a voice he knew quite well; one he never thought he’d hear again. A voice with a smile in its words. A voice always on the edge of laughter. His processor flooded with a surge of emotion as his memories rushed back, and for a second the restraining bolt scrambled to bypass his programming. C-53’s ocular sensors snapped toward the sound and caught a shock of blue hair further back in the line. It was him, alright. How had he found him?

The CLINT was still hollering from the front door. “I’d like to order something and speak to a manager!”

“AJ!”

C-53’s vocalizer spurred a response automatically and against his will. “Sir, we have a fairly obvious line structure,” he said, indicating with a hand. “If you could just fall in line back there-”

“I’m doing it,” the soldier interrupted, lowering his blaster. “I’m in the line now, and I’d like to order something and speak to a manager.”

“No need to update me any further until you’ve reached the front of the line, sir. Thank you.”

He watched the CLINT fall in with his companion and returned his attention to the customer at hand. Blue locks of hair tugged at C-53’s periphery, but his trust in the restraining bolt kept his sensors aimed on what was important. Somewhere in his coding, a small part of him was screaming through questions and probability, muted and far away.

From C-53’s left, his manager slouched out of their office, drawn by the shouting. “Did somebody say they wanted to speak to the manager?” they sighed.

“Ah, yes, this gentleman does,” C-53 began, but his explanation was cut off abruptly.

“Yes, I would like to,” the CLINT asserted. “I’m ordering stuff and speaking to the manager.”

Protocol allowed C-53 to move his field of vision back to what initially shocked him, and for the first time he was able to fully lay scanners on the tellurian accompanying the CLINT. That was, without a doubt, Pleck Decksetter. He looked different from the last time they spoke - his hair was longer, his face more tired, and he had ditched the ratty orange Federated Alliance jacket in exchange for an even rattier bathrobe, for some reason. But the grin softening his cheeks was sunny as always.

The CLINT, who seemed to be affiliated with Pleck in some way, leaned to him with a stage whisper. “Now’s your chance, now’s your chance-”

“Just relax,” Pleck told him, offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

He glanced across the diner and caught C-53’s gaze. His expression was complicated, cycling through so many emotions in rapid succession it was hard for C-53 to clock. As the CLINT reengaged with the manager, Pleck winked - or perhaps only blinked; he couldn’t quite tell with the eyepatch - and slipped out of line.

“Hi, manager, I’m relaxed… right now…” the soldier said to C-53’s superior, who stood by looking disinterested. “And I’d like to order something from you.”

“Oh, you don’t need to order from me,” they answered, gesturing to the register. “That’s what my fine employee C is here-”

“I’d like to speak to the manager,” the CLINT insisted.

C-53 took that moment to break in, unable to follow Pleck’s progress across the restaurant while his programming was in a headlock. “Okay, well, would you like to order, or would you like to speak to the manager?”

“I’ve been told to do both.”

A polite beat of silence. “You’ve been told to do both?”

The CLINT fidgeted, looking lost. “...Yes.”

Movement in his periphery gave C-53 a millisecond of reaction time, and he flung himself out of the way just as Pleck crashed through the register’s divider. Panting, he gripped one of C-53’s shoulders tightly, and with his back to the counter, the droid had nowhere to go. His other hand carried a device C-53 was very familiar with, and alarm zinged through his coding when he recognized it.

“C-53,” Pleck said breathlessly, “I’m here to save you - come with me.”

C-53’s scanners, unbidden, went to the overturned piece of machinery sizzling into the linoleum. He wanted nothing more than to meet eyes with his old friend, but the restraining bolt clamped down hard on his consciousness. This was company property. He’d probably have to file an incident report.

Belatedly, his vocalizer fired up again. “Pleck, what did you just do?”

The tellurian’s grin was lopsided. “I - I had to remove this grill station in order to have a little bit of room for us to exit,” he explained, laughing slightly at himself.

The sound stirred something in C-53, something he was not allowed to examine. “Okay.”

“Look,” Pleck insisted. “Come with me - we’ve gotta go. You’re in grave danger.”

His response was automatic. “Well ah, Pleck, I’m afraid that I am a valued employee here at the On-N-Off Burger family-”

“No, no,” the tellurian protested, “not anymore-” 

“The larger organization that owns the many fine On-N-Off Burger locations across Holowood.”

Pleck wasn’t having any of it. “C-53, stop, no, listen - You’re so much more than that. We have to get back out to the Zyxx quadrant and - and save the galaxy!”

Oh, this hurt. The restraining bolt was no longer gently guiding C-53’s emotions - it was gripping them tight, a vice on his coding. When the word ‘family’ leapt from his vocalizer, a horrible feeling turned deep in his cube, suppressed immediately by a corporate-owned padlock. Pleck was standing there, burning into him with his remaining eye, and C-53 ached in his indifference.

“I think the On-N-Off Corporation values me just a little bit more highly than you do,” he replied. Saying that to Pleck’s hopeful face felt like splicing his own wires.

The tellurian’s brow furrowed only a little as he twirled the restraining bolt remover in his free hand. “Okay, alright,” he said, his smile unaffected. “Just hold still.”

“Okay, I’m-”

Pleck pried the bolt off.

This... was far worse than what C-53 was experiencing before. As soon as his shackle clattered to the floor, everything came surging to the surface at once, and there was nothing left to break the wave overtaking him. What was he doing here? How had this happened to him? His scanners cast a perplexed look around him, taking in the overturned grill - that awful thing - his manager, the droves of customers, the accursed register. A vile feeling wriggled into his circuits, a dismayed realization, a disgust with the self.

And there was Pleck, watching him expectantly. Without a trace of judgment in his eye, even having found C-53 in such a state. A second wave raced up his programming, this time gentle and bleeding. This was something fragile. He was afraid to touch it.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” an onlooking customer commented, breaking the silence. An uncomfortable ripple of laughter ran through the restaurant.

C-53 finally collected himself enough to speak. “Oh my Rodd.”

“C-53, let’s go,” Pleck responded, cheeks pink with relief as he patted his frame.

He said it like it was so simple. Let’s go. Let’s get out of here. C-53’s newly untethered emotions roiled within him, too complicated to fully unravel and examine right then and there, so he clung to Pleck’s certainty instead.

Let’s go. Easy.

There was nothing for C-53 here. On-N-Off certainly wasn’t his family. His family had come to retrieve him, and now it was time to assemble the other missing pieces. Carefully, he strung a sentence together, though his words seemed hilariously inadequate for the sentiment lying beneath them.

“Pleck, I can’t thank you enough,” he said. “This has been a punishing six months.”

“I spent the last six months training to become a Zima knight,” Pleck answered seriously.

“Oh…” C-53 shook his head, blindsided by annoyance and affection in equal measure. “Pleck…”

He really was back, wasn’t he?

[bekaraar]

Aftermath (AFTG Bingo part 4)

Relationships:its kandreil but unrequited, andreil, jerejean,

Words: 1644

Read on AO3 here

Andrew had thought long and hard about why he did what he did. He has seen the reproving glances thrown in his direction from everyone, from Nicky to Dan.

And somewhere inside him, if he could go back and change what he happened, he knows he would.

But he can’t, so now, he has to deal with the aftermath.

Kevin wondered that if everything hadn’t played out the way it did, would those feelings of his, (the ones for the boys he thought loved him), would they not be unrequited?

Did he ever have a chance, or was just him, alone in every universe as he got lost in an endless cycle of betraying and being betrayed ?

Was there nothing to it?

He knew he had felt something for Andrew, he knew he had. It would be delusional to think otherwise, that he hadn’t felt something for the first person that had looked at him and had pointed out his flaws while also giving him a way to improve, in his own twisted way.

But then, Kevin mused, lying on his bed alone Neil had come, and Kevin saw himself falling in love with this boy that he had fallen in love with years ago (though he didn’t know it then. He never knew anything in time).

But he had seen him fall for Andrew and hadn’t really been able to blame him. Andrew was just like that.

And then the championships had rolled around and Neil had disappeared, and then, Kevin’s world came crashing down.

It’s weird, how he had allowed the people he trusted the most to let him down, not once, but twice.

Because when he had felt those strong hands close around his throat, he had cried, but not because of the pain. (He was horribly numb to pain. It was almost as if he couldn’t feel any of it anymore.) He had cried for another possibility lost, for another mistake that he had signed himself over to, another error that he had seen coming, but was too self destructive to let go. He had cried, because something in his head would not shut up.

Something that said:

Andrew should know th importance of keeping a secret that's not yours to share.

Andrew should know how to keep his promises.

Andrew should know that trust takes a long time to be built.

Andrew should know what abuse looks like.

Andrew should know .

So when they were back in the dorms and he could hardly speak because of the bruises lining his throat like the shackles he had tried to hard to escape, he realized that there was something he needed to do.

He took a deep breath, and went up to the roof.

*

Some say Andrew was suicidal. Others, like Neil, understood why he did it. Today, though, he did it mostly to escape his mind and that feeling of probably having broken another person. He wondered if Kevin also call him a monster now, in place of the carefully worded defenses that he gave to them when they asked him about the maniac on his team.

He looked up in slight surprise as he got on the roof and found Kevin there, with his arms around his legs, looking so so vulnerable, and childish, with those bruises across his neck that he had refused to cover with makeup.

Andrew wondered if maybe, he had misjudged Kevin Day after all.

The man in question looked up, his usually emotional face devoid of any feeling, and said, “There’s no need for the deal anymore.”

He got up after that statement and continued speaking though Andrew knew how much it must be hurting him.

“I kept my end.”

Andrew could fill in the blanks easily.

But you didn’t.

He left after that, but Andrew didn’t register it.

He was too occupied with the chorus of disappointed-letdown- broken breaking.

*

Kevin was back at Wymack’s apartment and Abby handed him a cup of honey tea for his throat and looked at him understandingly as she walked away to attend to her own doctorly business, leaving Kevin alone with Wymack.

Kevin busied himself drinking, more as an avoidance than anything, but he knew he was only putting off the inevitable.

And then Wymack sighed and turned to Kevin, but he cut him off.

“I talked to him,” Kevin said hoarsely, because he wasn’t even going try for normal now.

Things stopped being normal when Riko broke his hand.

“I spoke to him, and I’m moving in Nicky’s dorm.”

Wymack just raised an eyebrow.

“Aaron agreed to Andrew’s dorm?”

Kevin looked away.

“I didn’t give him too much of a choice.”

They left it at that.

Kevin was a master at avoiding people, but not when one of those was his sun and the other one was the planet around which he revolved.

No, Kevin thought. One of them was the meteor that had crashed into him and thrown him so, so off course and the other was the planet that had been saved.

But no one cared about the moon that had been thrown off course.

They were just grateful that the planet was saved.

He didn’t say anything much during practice.

For the first week, he said it was because of his throat, and no one could object to that, not when they had ignored him completely those first few days.

They had been forced to listen then.

Neil wasn’t playing yet, and Kevin hadn’t asked him once what had happened, though everyone had.

He didn’t want to talk to him.

Whatever feeling of friendship ( or more ) he once had was gone now.

Some things were just not meant to be.

And sometimes, Kevin thought, it would have been better if he had never been born at all.

He downed his drink.

*

Neil looked from where he was almost concealed by the shadows as he watched Kevin walk into Nicky’s dorm room, shitfaced.

He had seen Kevin retreat back into the hollow empty shell of the person he had been when he was under Riko.

But, a tiny voice inside his head said. Was it really that different?

Neil turned away and dismissed the thought.

It couldn’t be.

But could it?

*

Kevin had seen Neil in the hallway last night, and hadn’t been able to suppress that feeling, that feeling of rage, that almost bubbled inside him and threatened to flow over as he was reminded again and again by all the foxes just how lucky he was that Neil had negotiated his life away.

He was so fucking lucky.

He stared at the ceiling above him.

He wanted someone to talk to.

He wanted someone who wouldn’t look at him with silent contempt when he couldn’t express just what was wrong.

He inhaled and decided.

He needed to talk to Neil too.

Kevin stood out in front of the dorm building, and realized with a quiet pang that he would have to get his own car now.

It was funny how the little things hurt so much.

He started walking.

*

Neil was at the court, with of course Andrew.

His reasoning for being here so late was that he missed it, but all of them knew he missed more than just that.

Neil had thought a lot about how he had literally signed away two people’s lives, but every angle he considered it from give him the same outcome: there was no other way.

He sat in the goal, where Andrew would be, and remembered what it felt like to play because you wanted to, not because you had to.

*

Kevin walked into the changing rooms, and barely acknowledged Andrew, who stared at him with open hostility.

It does something inside him, a chorus of disappointment and sad and worthless and useless.

“I won’t harm him,” he bites out. “Don’t worry,” in a saccharine voice and he doesn’t flinch when Andrew walks close enough to touch him, but Andrew can sense the aborted move and distances himself, and Kevin hates that it still feels like its favour when he does that.

He hates it and he walks onto the court hating it and what he is about to do.

*

Neil is looking  at the goal, silently, when Kevin walks and sits near him, and it doesn't go unnoticed that he sits just out of reach, almost as if he had calculated it, though Neil knows he did, once.

Neil looks at Kevin in silent surprise and opens his mouth to say something when Kevin interrupts.

“I kept your secret.”

The as long as i could goes unsaid, but everyone hears it.

“Thank you,” Kevin says meeting Neil’s eyes. “For signing away my playing life.”

And Kevin means it with gratitude, and Neil knows he does, and for the first time he understands, that maybe, just maybe it was an overstep. That he could have said thta it was Kevin’s wish. That he shouldn’t have taken away that decision.

It is the closest he’ll come to regret.

And he stares at Kevin, struck by how dead inside he looks, and he stares till Kevin walks away, and that is when he realizes how badly they’ve fucked up.

*

Andrew realized, as he heard Kevin finish his little dialogue, that he was wrong. He was wrong in assuming that he was the one dealing with the aftermath.

It wasn’t him.

It was Kevin.

*

Kevin stared at his phone, at the offending number and picked it up.

“Hey,” Jean says, his voice filling the air around him.

“Hey,” Kevin says back, and he lets himself relax as Jean understands what he needs and fills the space around him with empty chatter.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

He was dealing with the aftermath, and somehow, it felt like he was going to be okay.

[redrobinhoood]

Index | Whumptober2020

Whumptober is now over! Thank you everyone for the love that’s been shown to my fics on here. This has been a very good writing challenge for me. I feel like I’ve learned a lot about my writing style over the course of this past month and what types of stories are the most compelling from your comments and reactions, so thank you for hopefully making me a better writer!

So as to provide the best reading experience, the index is a summary of every work I did for Whumptober and lists out the all characters, pairings, additional tags, triggers, and level of whump so that you may make an informed decision about what you would like to read. Feel free to ask questions, or for more summary/description if you are unsure if you would like to approach something, in the comments of this post or through DM or ask.

AO3 Index Link

* Lighter whump

** Eek but they at least kinda get their shit together

*** I kill or graphically traumatize someone here

Full index under the break

Single-character focus

No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE ** | Tumblr | AO3

Left for Dead

TW: None

Boba Fett

Description: Left to die, Boba Fett refuses to do so.

No 19. BROKEN HEARTS *** | Tumblr | AO3

Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor’s Guilt

TW: Character Death, Depression

CC-5052 | Bly / Aayla Secura

CC-5052 | Bly. CT-6734 | Galle, CC-3636 | Wolffe, Aayla Secura

Description: Bly finds himself in the same situation that he once put Aayla in when he returns to Felucia.

No 1. LET’S HANG OUT SOMETIME * | Tumblr | AO3

Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging

TW: Psychological Trauma

CC-2224 | Cody. CT-7567 | Rex, Alexsandr Kallus, Sabine Wren

Additional tags: Retrospective

Description: Captured by the Rebel Alliance, Cody thinks back on the events that led to this moment.

No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS ** | Tumblr | AO3

Disorientation | Blurred Vision

TW: Graphic Descriptions

CT-5555 | Fives & CT-0408 | Echo

CT-0408 | Echo

Additional tags: Canon compliant

Description: Echo makes a mistake at the Citadel and waits for Fives to save him from it.

No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD… ** | Tumblr | AO3

Migraine

TW: None

CT-0408 | Echo & CT-5555 | Fives, & CT-7567 | Rex

CT-0408 | Echo, CT-7567 | Rex

Additional tags: Canon compliant

Description: Trapped inside his own mind, Echo relives his final moments of freedom.

No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. *** | Tumblr | AO3

Accidents

TW: Character Death, Graphic Descriptions

CT-5597 | Jesse & CT-6116 Kix

CT-5597 | Jesse

Additional tags: Canon compliant

Description: Pinned down, Jesse thinks back on the events leading up to Order 66.

No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE’RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE *** | Tumblr | AO3

Field Medicine

TW: Needles, Drug Use

CT-6116 | Kix. CT-5597 | Jesse

Description: Kix fights to keep his brothers alive on Umbara, but gives them peace when he cannot do so.

No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? ** | Tumblr | AO3

Branding

TW: None

CC-4477 | Thire. Jek

Description: Thire finds that the Emperor has found a solution for telling the identical clones apart.

No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? *** | Tumblr | AO3

Abandoned | Isolation

TW: Death, Depression, Graphic Descriptions of Violence

CT-7567 | Rex. Ahsoka Tano

Additional Tags: Post Victory and Death

Description: Rex returns to the wreckage of the Venator once Ahsoka falls asleep to mourn his brothers.

No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR * | Tumblr | AO3

Intubation | Reluctant Bedrest

TW: Mentions of Death

CC-3636 | Wolffe. Boost

Description: After suffering serious injuries at the hands of the droid army, Wolffe finds himself on the road to recovery.

Friendship focus/pairings

No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN ** | Tumblr | AO3

Possession | Alt 10. Nightmares

TW: Violence, Implied Character Death

Barriss Offee & Ahsoka Tano

Barriss Offee, Ahsoka Tano

Description: Ahsoka dreams about Barriss Offee and the tipping points in their friendship.

No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE * | Tumblr | AO3

Sensory Deprivation

TW: None

Barriss Offee & Ahsoka Tano

Barriss Offee, Ahsoka Tano

Description: Imprisoned for her crimes, Barriss tries to sort fact from fiction as she finds herself deprived of her senses.

No 7. I’VE GOT YOU * | Tumblr | AO3

Support | Enemy to Caretaker

TW: Wounds

Cal Kestis & Merrin

Cal Kestis, Merrin

Additional notes: Fallen Order Spoilers

Description: Merrin goes to see Cal with thoughts of Dathomir on her mind.

No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO ** | Tumblr | AO3

Panic Attacks

TW: Panic Attacks

Cal Kestis & BD-1, & Merrin

Cal Kestis, BD-1, Merrin

Description: With all distractors gone, Cal’s thoughts wander to old trauma and old wounds.

No 12. I THINK I’VE BROKEN SOMETHING * | Tumblr | AO3

Broken Down | Broken Trust

TW: None

CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi

CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ghost Crew (all), Millennium Falcon crew (almost all)

Additional tags:

Description: The Ghost receives a transmission concerning a former Jedi, a farm boy, and the Death Star.

No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? *** | Tumblr | AO3

Internal Organ Injury

TW: Character Death, Graphic Descriptions, Blood

CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex

CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex

Description: Cody tells Rex of a new Separatist weapon. Later, Rex comes face to face with it.

No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME** | Tumblr | AO3

Collapsed Building

TW: Blood, Mentions of Death

CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, CT-5385 | Tup, CT-6116 | Kix, CT-5597 | Jesse. CT-7567 | Rex, Anakin Skywalker

Description: Rex sends some of his best men to steal data from a recently abandoned Separatist base.

No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT * | Tumblr | AO3

Oxygen Mask

TW: None

Plo Koon & CC-3636 | Wolffe

Plo Koon, CC-3636 | Wolffe

Description: Captured during the infiltration of a Separatist base, Plo Koon chooses to save the lives of his men over his own.

No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? * | Tumblr | AO3

Exhaustion | Sleep Deprivation

TW: Depression

CT-5555 | Fives & CT-0408 | Echo, & CT-5385 | Tup

CT-5555 | Fives, CT-5385 | Tup

Description: Following Umbara, old nightmares come back to haunt Fives.

No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY ** | Tumblr | AO3

“Pick Who Dies” | Collars

TW: None

CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker

Anakin Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex, Obi-Wan Kenobi

Description: Anakin is forced to choose between three of the beings he loves.

No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY * | Tumblr | AO3

Hallucinations

TW: None

CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker

CT-7567 | Rex, Anakin Skywalker

Description: Rex and Anakin find themselves doused with hallucinogenic powder while pursuing Asajj Ventress.

No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD *** | Tumblr | AO3

“Take Me Instead” | “Run!”

TW: Character Death

CT 7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano

CT 7567 | Rex, Ahsoka Tano. CT-6116 | Kix, Anakin Skywalker

Description: When their ship comes under attack, Rex and Ahsoka desperately try to hold off the droids from the control room.

No 21. I DON’T FEEL SO WELL * | Tumblr | AO3

Hypothermia

TW: None

CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano

CT-7567 | Rex, Ahsoka Tano. Anakin Skywalker, CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi

Description: Rex and Ahsoka find themselves stranded on an ice moon after escaping from Separatist forces.

Romance pairings

No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING? *** | Tumblr | AO3

On the Run | Failed Escape

TW: Character Death

CC-5052 | Bly / Aayla Secura

CC-5052 | Bly, Aayla Secura, CT-6734 | Galle

Additional tags: Worse Than Canon

Description: Bly decides to take the execution of Order 66 into his own hands

No 27. OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? ** | Tumblr | AO3

Earthquake

TW: Suicide

CC-5052 | Bly / Aayla Secura

CC-5052 | Bly, Aayla Secura

Description: Trapped by a collapsed building during an earthquake, Bly and Aayla take different approaches to their survival.

No 6. PLEASE…. ** | Tumblr | AO3

“Get it Out” | “Stop, please”

TW: Blood, Mentions of Death

CC-2224 | Cody / Obi-Wan Kenobi

CC-2224 | Cody, Obi-Wan Kenobi

Description: Obi-Wan and Cody lead a mission to scout out what appears to be an abandoned Separatist base.

No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING * | Tumblr | AO3

Blackmail | Dirty Secret

TW: None

Rey / Ben Solo | Kylo Ren

Rey, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren

Description: A reminiscing Kylo Ren is interrupted by a call for a momentary truce following the near extermination of the Resistance.

No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY* | Tumblr | AO3

Manhandled | Held at Gunpoint

TW: None

Riyo Chuchi / CC-1010 | Fox

Riyo Chuchi, CC-1010 | Fox. CC-5869 | Stone

Description: It’s the weekly bounty hunter break in in the Senate. But this week, Commander Fox finds Senator Chuchi to be one of their demands.

No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED ** | Tumblr | AO3

Blood Loss | Trail of Blood

TW: Blood, Graphic Descriptions, Character Death

Riyo Chuchi / CC-1010 | Fox

Riyo Chuchi, CC-1010 | Fox.

Description: Commander Fox leads an assault on a team of bounty hunters who have infiltrated the Senate.

No 11. PSYCH 101 *** | Tumblr | AO3

Defiance | Struggling | Crying

TW: Character Death

Riyo Chuchi / CC-1010 | Fox

Riyo Chuchi, CC-1010 | Fox

Description: The Chancellor learns of Commander Fox and Riyo’s relationship and orders his property to be destroyed.

No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? * | Tumblr | AO3

Poisoned

TW: None

Riyo Chuchi / CC-1010 | Fox

Riyo Chuchi, CC-4477 | Thire

Description: Thire watches over Riyo at a senatorial gathering after she receives another threat on her life.

[morwenna-crows]

Seasons of War: American Cover + Two Chapter Preview

The American cover for Seasons Of War was released today. 

There’s also a two chapter preview, which I’ve put under the cut, because long.

1.

Red candles, maybe a dozen of them. Brick walls. Lot of rafters, lot of shadows, lots of big, empty patches of darkness. Wooden floor. She was in a cellar, a big one, upright against something metal. She could feel the struts digging into her back. Her arms were over her head, wrists bound with rope. Ankles tied, too. 

Her tongue tasted sour. They’d drugged her. Her mouth was dry. She licked her lips. Her head was dull. She shot a little magic through her system and her mind cleared instantly. 

She wondered if her make-up had been smudged. She hoped it hadn’t. It had taken ages to put on. Her shoes were gone. Good. They were awful. She was still in the dress, though, the one that was too small and too tight and not very practical. It did have one thing going for it, however – the amulet of dark metal, in the shape of a skull, that fitted against her hip like some cool- looking clasp. 

She raised her head slightly, gave her surroundings a closer inspection through the hair that hung over her face. Pedestals displayed occult paraphernalia in glass cases like this was some- one’s idea of a black magic museum, and good quality – though obviously plastic – skeletons, dressed in rags, hung from shackles along the walls. The ground was sticky against her bare feet. She was positioned in the exact centre of a pentagram painted on the floorboards. She was pretty sure the dark stains had been made by copious splashes of blood. 

“She’s awake,” someone said in the darkness ahead of her. “Hey, she’s awake. Get the others.” 

The sound of feet on wooden steps, and then yellow light flooded in from above. A large shadow flowed across the light and then the cellar door closed and she was left with the flickering red candles and whoever had spoken. 

He came forward, out of the darkness. Dressed in a red robe with the hood up. 

“What’s your name?” he asked. His voice was gentle. American. Warm. 

“Valkyrie,” she said. 

“Valerie?” 

“Valkyrie. With a K.” 

“That’s a nice name. Unusual. Is it Irish?” 

“Norwegian.” 

“Oh. My friend said you were from Ireland.” 

“I am. My name isn’t.” 

“Ah.” He stepped a bit closer. She could see the lower half of his face, his square jaw and his even white teeth. 

“You’re probably freaking out right now. I get that. I do. You wake up, you’re in a dark cellar, you see satanic stuff all around, you probably think you’re going to be horribly butchered in some ridiculous human-sacrifice ritual, yeah?” He pulled his hood down and his smile broadened. “Well, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.” 

“I know you,” said Valkyrie. 

“Do you?” 

“You’re that actor,” she said. “From that movie. You’re Jason Randal.” 

“You want an autograph?” 

“How about a selfie? If you could just hand me my phone...” 

He laughed. “Oh, I like you. That’s an impressive response. Usually, the girls we sacrifice are full of panicked questions at this stage, like they think they can make sense of what’s happening. Like they can’t bring themselves to believe that they’re about to be murdered.” 

“What was that movie you were in, with the guy from The Big Lebowski?” 

Jason tilted his head slightly. “I haven’t been in a film with—” 

“No, you know the one. You both play dead cops who are still, like, solving crimes and stuff? You’re not zombie cops, or ghost cops, but... what’s it called? I want to say RIP, but...” 

Jason’s smile faded. “RIPD,” he said. 

“Yes,” Valkyrie said. “That was a terrible movie. Why did you make that?” 

He scratched his jaw. “That was Ryan Reynolds. You’re thinking of Ryan Reynolds.” 

“That wasn’t you?” 

“No.” 

Valkyrie frowned. “Are you sure?” 

“I think I know what films I’ve been in.” 

“I could have sworn it was you.” 

“Well, it wasn’t.” 

“It’s a terrible movie.” 

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen it and I wasn’t in it.” 

“It’s bad.” 

“Then how about we stop talking about it?” 

“Are you ashamed of it because it’s so bad?” 

“I wasn’t in it.” 

Valkyrie looked at him. “Maybe if you had a better agent you’d get better movies.” 

Yellow light flooded the cellar and shadows moved, cast by the three people coming down the steps, all dressed in red robes. 

“Is the Master here?” Jason Randal asked them, annoyance pinching his words. 

“He’s on his way,” the woman in front said. Her name escaped 

Valkyrie, but these days she was always being cast as the girlfriend or the wife of the hero. A few years ago, however, she’d headlined a few movies herself. Not bad movies, either. The guy behind her, one of the stars of a dreadful sitcom Valkyrie had pretended to like, was the one who’d bought her the spiked drink in the crowded bar. She recognised the last person – an actor in a TV show she’d never watched who had a ridiculous name that she couldn’t remember. 

The woman had an amazing smile and incredible bone struc- ture and wonderful hair. It shone in the candlelight. “I take it Jason has explained what’s going to happen,” she said. 

“Don’t bother with this one,” Jason said, somewhat grumpily. “She’s not that bright.” 

Valkyrie ignored him. “I’m a huge fan,” she said. “Aw, thank you.” “That film where you were out for revenge on the men who’d killed your husband? That was brilliant.” 

“That’s really sweet of you to say so. I did a lot of my own stunts for that one.” 

“The fight scenes were excellent.” The woman smiled at the others. “Do we have to kill her? She has such great taste!” 

The others chuckled – all except Jason. He didn’t chuckle even a little bit. 

“We should do it now,” he said. The woman frowned at him. Victoria, that was her name. Victoria Leigh. “Before the Master gets here?” 

“It’s almost midnight. We’ll have to do it anyway, with or without him.” 

“The Master will not be pleased,” said the sitcom star. 

“Then the Master should be on time for the human sacrifice,” Jason snapped back. “The rest of us are all here, aren’t we? And we have careers. I have to be on set in two hours, and don’t you have an early call tomorrow?” 

“I do have an early call,” murmured the sitcom star. Victoria checked the slender gold watch on her slender pale wrist. “OK, fine, get everything ready to go. We’ll wait till the last second. If the Master arrives in time, excellent. If he doesn’t, we’ll do it ourselves on the stroke of midnight.” 

The others nodded and went off to fetch whatever they needed to fetch. Victoria stepped closer, though, brushing Valkyrie’s hair back off her face. 

“You’re a pretty one,” she said. “Not leading-lady beautiful, perhaps, but definitely girl-next-door pretty. And those shoulders! Good lord! Linebacker shoulders, that’s what we call them. I can see why Tadd picked you.” Her voice softened. “Was he respectful? I’ve warned him about this in the past.” 

“Pretty sure he was.” 

“Good. I’ve seen far too many girls being disrespected in my business and I’d hate to be a part of something that perpetuates this behaviour.” 

“Aren’t you lot going to murder me in a few minutes?” 

A little laugh. “I am aware of the contradiction.” 

“Good,” said Valkyrie. “Because I was worrying.” 

“I have to say... What’s your name?” 

“Valkyrie.” 

“Ah, from Norse mythology. Very nice. I have to say, Valkyrie, you’re surprisingly calm about this whole thing.” 

Valkyrie shrugged as much as she was able. “I don’t want to brag or anything, but I’ve been in worse situations.” 

“You have?” “It’s all worked out in the end.” “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I don’t think that’s going to happen tonight.” 

“We’ll see.” “Indeed we will, Valkyrie. That’s a great attitude to have. We will indeed see. So tell me, what brings you out to LA? Aspiring actress?” 

“Actually, I’m thinking of getting into stuntwork. I like being physical, you know? Throwing people around, crashing through windows, falling off rooftops... That’s my kind of thing.” 

“Oh, I admire stunt people so much, I really do. I know this great little team down in Glendale. Such a shame you’re dying tonight – someone as athletic as you, you’d have fit in perfectly.” 

“Can I ask you something? This Master guy you’re waiting on – who is he?” 

“You sure you want to know? Well, why the hell not – you won’t be telling anyone, right? He’s a sorcerer. He’s magic.” 

“Like one of those street magicians?” 

Victoria’s laugh was as pretty as her eyes. “No, no, not like those street magicians. I mean he’s actually, really, genuinely magic. He can move things just by waving his hands. He clicks his fingers and he’s holding a ball of fire in his palm.” 

“No kidding?” 

“I swear it’s true.” 

“And why does he make you sacrifice people?” 

“Well, he gets his power from Satan, you see. He’s Satan’s emissary here on earth. All of us in our little group, we’re the ones who sacrifice the girls and, as a reward, Satan grants the Master the power to fulfil our wildest dreams.” 

“Golly,” said Valkyrie. 

“I know.” 

“And does it work? Do your wildest dreams come true?” 

Victoria made a seesawing motion with her hand. “It’s not an exact science. We get a lot of callbacks during pilot season, a lot of interest from casting agents and directors... but really Satan just opens the door. It’s up to us to walk through.” 

“Right, right,” said Valkyrie. “So Satan is real, then?” 

“Oh, yes.” 

“Wow. And that’s all he asks for? Human sacrifice?” 

“Yes. And a commission.” 

“A commission?” 

“That goes to the Master. For living expenses, you know.” 

“So the Master gets a cut of whatever you make? How big a cut?”

Victoria hesitated. “Forty per cent.” 

“Seriously?” 

“But it’s worth it. Tadd wouldn’t have got that sitcom if it wasn’t for the Master, and I’m on a shortlist for the role of a wartime correspondent. It’s based on a true story and the script has a lot of buzz around it right now.” 

“Good luck with that one. I hope you get it.” 

“Thank you.” The others came back. Tadd held a candelabra of seven long- stemmed, unlit black candles, and the other one, the actor whose ridiculous name Valkyrie couldn’t remember, carried a box of polished oak. Jason Randal opened the box, and took out a long, curved dagger. The corners of his mouth lifted when he looked at Valkyrie. 

“We still have two minutes,” Victoria said. 

“She needs to be dead at midnight,” Jason responded. “I know the rules.” 

“We should do it now, to be sure she dies.” 

“We’ll do it at eleven fifty-nine. So long as you stab her in the heart, she’ll be dead in seconds. Light the ceremonial candles.” 

The ridiculously named actor put the box down and came hurrying over, digging through his robes. He produced a silver Zippo, flicked it open and ran the flint wheel along his thigh. It sparked to a flame, and he put the flame to the seven black candles. Tadd held the candelabra aloft. 

“The candles,” he said, “are lit.” 

“The dagger,” Jason intoned, “is sharp.” “The time,” Victoria said, eyes on her watch, “is now.” 

2.

Jason grinned and raised the dagger and then the seven candles went out. 

“Oh,” said Tadd. “Sorry.” 

Jason glared. “Relight them.” The actor with the ridiculous name flicked the Zippo open again, ran it across his leg again, and lit the candles again. 

Sheepishly, Tadd held the candelabra aloft once more. “The candles are lit.” 

Then they went out again. “For God’s sake,” Jason muttered. 

“Are you standing in a draught or something?” Victoria asked. “Move over there, and don’t hold them up so high this time. Come on, we’re running out of time. Relight them.” 

The actor with the ridiculous name flicked the Zippo open. “I swear,” said Jason, “if you run that up your leg one more time, I am stabbing you instead of this girl. Do you understand? Just light the damn candles.” 

The actor narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to be a—” 

“Light the candles, Maverick!” said Jason and Victoria at the same time. 

Maverick. That was his name. Maverick Reels. What a silly name. Not that someone who’d called herself Valkyrie Cain could throw stones, but still. 

As Maverick fumbled with the Zippo, the cellar door opened and a man swept down the stairs. “Hail Satan!” he cried. 

“Hail Satan!” the others cried back. 

“Hail Satan,” Valkyrie added, just to be in with the cool kids. 

“Midnight is almost upon us!” said the Master, summoning fire into his hand and passing it over the candelabra, lighting each wick. “Why does this girl still live? Kill her! Deliver her soul to the Dark Lord!” 

“Voldemort?” Valkyrie asked, frowning. The Master pulled down his hood. He didn’t look like a Master. He looked like a mid-level office manager with a bad goatee. He peered at her. “Do I know you?” 

“Do you?” 

“I’ve seen you before.” 

“Have you?” 

“I’ve seen your photograph,” he said. 

“Where have you seen it?” 

“I’m trying to remember,” he said. 

“Think hard now.” 

“Stop talking.” 

“Maybe it wasn’t even me,” Valkyrie said. “Was it a photo taken in a burning city? Then it wasn’t me. It was a god who just looked like me.” 

His eyes widened. “Oh, no.” Valkyrie’s magic crackled, white lightning dancing around her wrists and ankles, burning through the ropes. 

Panicking, the Master grabbed the dagger from Jason just as one of the skeletons in rags stepped away from the wall and seized his wrist. 

“Let’s not do anything hasty,” Skulduggery said, and everyone in the little group of satanic worshippers screamed and leaped away as he punched the Master right on the hinge of his jaw. 

The Master’s knees buckled and he collapsed into Skulduggery’s arms, and Valkyrie broke free of the scaffolding holding her and followed the actors as they scrambled up the cellar steps. 

She caught Maverick just as the door crashed open, pulling him off the steps. He flailed madly and she ducked as he spun, then clocked him right on the chin. He stiffened and pitched backwards. Valkyrie left him there and ran after the others. 

She emerged from the cellar into an impressively big house – a movie star’s house. Lots of glass and exposed brick and open spaces. She followed the sounds of panic to the front door, where Jason and Victoria and Tadd were cursing each other as they tried to navigate the locks. 

They heard her coming. Tadd let out a roar and came charging. He was shorter than Valkyrie, and skinnier, and she stepped into him, stopping him with a shoulder. He staggered a little and her fingers curled into his hair and she smacked his face against the painting on the wall over and over until he fell down. 

Victoria ran into another room as Jason Randal dropped his robe and squared up to Valkyrie. He was big. He had muscles. He moved like he knew what he was doing, or he’d at least worked with fight choreographers – but when he threw the first punch it was stiff and awkward and badly judged, and it stopped a good hand’s length short of where it needed to land. He didn’t have a clue, and this wasn’t worth bruising her knuckles over, so Valkyrie blasted him with a little lightning that threw him back against the door. He fell in a crumpled, unconscious heap and she went after Victoria. She was standing in the huge living room holding a poker like a baseball bat. 

“This isn’t going to do me a whole lot of good, is it?” she asked after a moment. 

Valkyrie gave a shrug, and Victoria sighed, and put the poker down. 

“Was that an actual skeleton I saw downstairs, or was it some sort of special effect?” 

“It was a skeleton. He’s alive and he talks. His name’s Skulduggery.” 

“Of course it is,” Victoria said, and took a seat, wearily, on the couch. “So you’re a sorcerer, too, are you?” 

“Yep.” 

“You a Satanist also?” 

Valkyrie sat opposite, and crossed her legs. “That guy’s not a Satanist. None of us are Satanists. Magic has got nothing to do with religion. Those people you sacrificed? The devil didn’t collect their souls. Those people just died.” 

Victoria took a while before answering. “But then why did the Master tell us to do it?” 

“Well, seeing as how all this is about money, I’m guessing that in order to get the lot of you to really commit, the idiot you call Master made you kill a bunch of innocent people so you couldn’t change your minds and back out at a later date.” 

Victoria’s face slackened. “We didn’t have to kill those girls?” 

“Nope.” 

“But... but our careers... How did he—?” 

“There’s a trick sorcerers can do once they know the name you were born with. They can tell you to do stuff. Not big stuff, not life-changing stuff – he wouldn’t have been able to coax a whole lot of money out of you that way – but he could certainly have suggested to casting agents that it’d be a good idea to call you in for a second audition, things like that.” 

“Oh my God...” 

“Yep.” 

“What... what’s going to happen to me now?” 

“You’re going to jail.” 

“I should call my attorney.” 

“You won’t need an attorney,” said Valkyrie. “You’re going to one of our jails. All four of you will disappear. No one will know where you are.” 

“But my family... My fans...” 

“They’ll never see you again.” 

Victoria stared at her. “You can’t do that.” 

“By our estimation, you’ve murdered sixteen young women between the four of you. We might be wrong. You might have murdered more.” 

“But the Master told us we had to.” 

“Stop calling him Master. He’s just some low-level sorcerer who couldn’t be bothered doing the work of a real agent so he invented this Satanist thing to make some money out of you morons. And I don’t care what he told you. You had a choice. You could have chosen not to murder sixteen innocent young women. Obviously, that’s not the road you decided to go down.” 

Victoria sat forward, elbows on her knees, hands hidden by the voluminous sleeves of her robe, evidently processing what she could. “I can’t go to jail,” she said slowly. “I’m on a shortlist. That part could win me an Oscar.” She straightened up. She had a gun in her hand. “I’m really sorry.” 

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t react. 

“Sorcerers aren’t bulletproof, are they?” Victoria asked. 

“No, we’re not,” said Valkyrie. 

“I’m really sorry about this.” 

“Are you, though?” 

Victoria thumbed back the hammer. It made a pleasing little click. “I’m not the best shot in the world,” she said, “but I’m not bad, either. That revenge movie I was in? My firearms coach told me I was a natural. But, even if I were the worst shot in the world, I couldn’t miss from this range even if I wanted to.” 

“Oh, I bet you could if you tried.” 

“Will a gun kill your skeleton friend?” 

“Not that gun.” 

“Then I’ll just kill you.” 

Valkyrie tapped the amulet on her hip and the black suit spread outwards, covering her skin and her clothes, flowing down to her feet and to her fingertips before Victoria’s eyes could even finish widening. 

The gun went off. The bullet hit Valkyrie in the belly and she grunted, sitting forward slightly. She pulled the hood up as a second bullet struck her chest. Christ, that stung. Her fingers found the mask in the hood and she pulled it down and felt it turn solid over her face as Victoria stood and proceeded to empty the gun into her. Valkyrie wondered what the skull mask looked like today. 

Every time she pulled it down, it was slightly different than the time before. It was like Skulduggery’s façade in that way. Victoria’s final bullet hit Valkyrie in the forehead, making the mask reverberate. Valkyrie stood up. 

“I thought you said you weren’t bulletproof,” Victoria said quietly, the gun hanging uselessly by her side. 

“I’m not,” Valkyrie responded, brushing a squashed bullet from her chest. “The suit is. I was going to give you the option of leaving this house in cuffs, as opposed to unconscious, but...” 

“But I just tried to kill you?” 

Valkyrie shrugged, took the gun away from her. 

“Please,” Victoria said, “not the face.” 

“Sure,” Valkyrie said, and hit her in the face anyway. 

[xlady-saya]

I want this touch to be familiar [Ch 5. final]

Relationships: andrew/neil, side aaron/katelyn

Summary: Deep down, Andrew knew he would always reach this crossroads, a time where the thought became too strong to ignore.

Going all the way with Neil. It’s not something he can continue to avoid thinking about. When Andrew looks back to the days where he held Neil’s hands down, when he never got off with him in the same room, he’s forced to acknowledge how much he’s allowed.

Not allowed. Welcomed. Wanted.

But that’s not all there is to it, and the desire to make a decision finally makes itself known.

Tags: first time fic, p*rn with feelings, relationship study, fluff and communication, multichapter

Read on ao3!

Neil misses another pass. It's the fifth time, a new and pathetic record for the stubborn striker. It's so unlike him, but Andrew's blood runs hot from something that's not anger...not worry.

Neil would normally be beside himself, huffing and fuming from the endless mistakes he's making, even at a practice. He's not though.

Andrew watches as the ball rebounds off the plexiglass and rolls along the court, no one making a move to stop it. Not even Kevin, though Andrew will blame that on the steam coming out of his ears. He hasn't snapped yet.

This time when Neil misses, there's a noticeable tension. Dan and Matt shoot each other concerned looks while the others glance at Neil in ways they think are subtle.

They're not, but Neil is oblivious. Andrew's gaze lingers on the flushed skin of his cheeks, the little jump in every step he takes. Troublesome.

The team continues to stare, searching for proof of panic or fear from Neil, maybe rifling through the dates of the week for any bad anniversaries or triggering memories. But they will find none, Andrew knows. And even so...

Neil is smiling like an absolute idiot.

Andrew's stomach swoops involuntarily, and he tightens his grip around his own racquet. If Neil doesn't stop prancing around then Andrew will have to make a repeat of their first meeting.

Either Neil's unaware of his piss poor playing or he doesn't care. Neither does Andrew, not when Neil keeps turning to look at him like that. There's a skip in Neil's step, a recognizable giddiness as he runs to and fro without direction. He simply has the energy, the mindlessness to do it. The redhead turns around and moves to another random spot on the court, looking up at Andrew every few seconds and beaming. Andrew knows his expression betrays nothing, but he wonders if Neil can tell there's something...light, airy, about him.

He feels untethered to the ground, and it's unsettling for someone who hates falling so much. Yet, Andrew can't find it in himself to actually be uncomfortable.

He tracks his eyes up and down Neil's frame, watching him rock on the balls of his feet, fidgety...

There's a noticeable limp, one Neil isn't trying at all to hide. Still, Neil is lively. When Andrew locks gazes with him, there's nothing but excitement and something too soft for Andrew to name, a layer of vulnerability that sends the helium inside him spiking. Andrew almost crouches, to avoid floating away.

Andrew knows why the limp is there. After all, it's his doing, but not his fault. It doesn't feel like something guilt ridden, when Neil can't stop staring at him like he just wants to be cocooned up with Andrew in the nearest bed.

Of course, the horrible thought had tried to manifest. He saw Neil limping the morning after they went all the way, muscles worked raw from too many overzealous rounds. Andrew had encouraged his own pleasure for once, and he wondered if that meant he'd taken things too far. He'd begun to worry about if he'd still managed to cause Neil pain, agony. The one thing he'd been so desperate to avoid.

But then he remembered Neil's equal encouragement, the push of his hips with every one of Andrew's thrusts. Wanted, welcomed. The horrible thought that Andrew had somehow hurt Neil by chasing his own desire over and over had no chance to survive in the face of Neil's earnestness, the eagerness. When Neil stretched out his sore muscles the next day, the wince hadn't been one of pain, but satisfaction.

A good ache. Andrew has to squint at the choice of words, but there's no other way to describe it.

Andrew never thought that would be possible, that he could give someone that. Yet here Neil is, jogging around despite the soreness, relishing in it. Neil looks...happy.

Andrew shivers, thinking of the nail marks on his back that itch deliciously, the burn of his calves. The handprints and sensory memories don't make him cringe or grimace, they are not burdens. He doesn't feel used, or degraded, and Neil doesn't look like he does either.

It is the exact opposite of how Andrew thought he could feel after something like that, after giving, taking.

As if yearning for Andrew's gaze again, Neil snaps his head over to him while Dan attempts to give another run down of the next play. Neil's clearly not listening. Andrew watches him put weight on his better leg, and then Neil waves.

He fucking waves, and it's so stupid, so pitiful. Neil's smile is so giddy, it twists Andrew up inside. He can't begin to place what all those emotions are, only that he never thought they'd be there.

Neil confounds Andrew, day by day, minute by minute.

Andrew waves back, a lazy, almost mocking thing, but it has a powerful result anyways. He gets to watch Neil's eyes brighten considerably while he goes to wipe his bangs out of his face. Andrew's glad he'd ditched the helmet for a moment.

Andrew's muscles twitch. It's just a wave, yet Neil acts like it's the highlight of his day. Andrew's attention. As if he doesn't always have it in some way or another.

As if Andrew hasn't been staring at Neil just as much all day long. That's the big admission, evidence Andrew doesn't want to acknowledge. Despite his attempts to deny the urge, to squash it, Andrew had been powerless in this. Neil's presence is so apparent to him today, like the only spot of color on a black and white canvas. Andrew nearly rocks forward on the balls of his own feet, but he stops himself.

He draws the line at that, at allowing his body to give away how badly it wants to be next to Neil. How badly it yearns to leave practice with Neil in tow.

Andrew's not even sure why he changed out, but the thought of not being in close proximity to Neil had been something he couldn't fight.

Pathetic. But he followed his instincts.

Realistically, Andrew knows what this extra strong magnetic pull between them is. He and Neil are typically aware of each other, in sync, but not to this degree of distraction.

Andrew would hate to admit being like anyone else, but he knows clinginess isn't exactly abnormal after having sex for the first time. People go nuts with it, glued at the hip, ready for more, wanting to touch all the time no matter how small the gesture.

And for once, Andrew is no different. The only separation from other mindless people is that he knows the reality of this. This feeling, so strong now because of the novelty of it, will fade. He and Neil will go back to normal after they've gotten used to this new layer of their intimacy. Their levels of desire will even out; they won't go away, but they won't be this overwhelming, this much of a need.

And regardless of that knowledge, Andrew can't find an ounce of disappointment. How is that? He should grimace, vindicated in his belief that all things end. He should walk away, appeased with this proof that all feelings are fleeting.

But, he doesn't, because he doesn't feel that way at all. To acknowledge that he feels good in any way is another thing to pick apart, but doesn't surprise him on a day like this. And besides he knows the answer to his main question.

The feelings itself might be fleeting, but what will be left after it is gone...isn't anything bad. He's not bored with what's underneath all this.

He's not bored with Neil, not done with him, in any form.

Should he be concerned about this weakness, this softness? He's not sure. He doesn't care in the moment. Because even when this new excitement fades, when the 'honeymoon phase' of their first time dissolves, there will still be Neil.

Neil, who is all bad attitude, infuriating grins, and stubbornness. He will still look at Andrew in that way Andrew can't handle, he'll still be by his side with an understanding Andrew never thought he'd find from anyone. Neil, who never had to try to keep Andrew's interest anyways.

Andrew once told Neil he would get bored of him eventually, but he wonders at what point he'll have to start classifying that statement as an untruth. Not a lie, because Andrew does not lie, but something in need of revision. The silver bracelet in his pocket weighs heavy, and Andrew hopes Neil will understand the singular, boring charm on it.

A shackle, tying the plain silver chain together.

Andrew's need to feel hatred for the gesture, for Neil in general, used to be easy to summon. And now...

Neil's eyes fly to him again, and yup, there it is. Neil bites his lip, and Andrew leans forward, eyes on fire.

Now, he's gone too far to turn back. He's found Neil, and has been found in the process, whether he likes it or not.

He will have to tell Bee later next week, because he's sure she'll take some ridiculous joy in the admission: he's starting not to mind it.

Ah, to be known, indeed.

A shot flies past him, lighting up the goal. It's swift, merciless. Andrew hadn't even moved to stop it, hadn't been aware of it at all. The buzzer rings, obnoxious and deafening across the court. Even Neil freezes.

Oh. This'll be annoying.

Andrew barely has time to take it all in before Kevin is stalking over to him, and Dan sighs behind him, calling their little group into a huddle by the goal. They leave some confused freshman (and a very smug Renee) in their wake, but they just seem happy to have a break from Kevin's ruthlessness.

Allison is the only one who looks delighted instead of confused, and Andrew refuses to give her more ammo for the countless bets she has.

Kevin's helmet hits the court from how frustrated he is when he rips it off, eyes burning into Andrew's blank expression. Andrew realizes he has to pry his eyes from seeking out Neil again.

Oh Kevin, always interfering with his agenda.

And, because Andrew is an asshole and has already been caught, he takes a page from Neil's book. "Would you look at that Kevin. I missed."

Nicky and Matt both inhale sharply while Neil smirks, and Kevin finally snaps.

His accusatory hand flies out to point at Neil, and then at Andrew. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?"

Kevin isn't all hopeless, because he knows Andrew won't answer. He stares at Neil expectantly, but Neil's still looking right at Andrew, probably just relieved they're a lot closer now.

Andrew would just have to take a few steps to touch him...

"Nothin," Neil says with a shrug, and it's uncharacteristically followed by a small laugh. It's a near giggle, one usually reserved for Andrew in rare moments, and Andrew almost lets a glare slip at the thought of the others hearing it. He scolds himself for being that stupid, as brainless as Neil.

Aaron is the only one who's caught on to their weird mood, and Andrew refuses to look at his twin when he speaks. "I don't want to know."

Allison's smile is shark-like. "I definitely want to know."

Neil is squirming again, though not because of the conversation. Andrew, because he's not as smart as he thinks, accidentally let his gaze fall to Neil's neck.

"Ah relax Kevin, practice is almost over anyways," Nicky says, throwing up his hands. "It's Friday! Let them be lazy."

Kevin spins on him, and Nicky mutters something that sounds suspiciously like 'goddammit.' "What does that have to do with anything?" Kevin seethes, whipping his head to Neil. It takes a second to get Neil to look at him. "Neil, might I remind you we have a--"

"A game next week, mhm," Neil answers flippantly, twisting in place before looking back at Andrew. If Andrew cared to, he'd be smirking. "Are we going to Columbia this weekend?"

It's a question entirely for Andrew, the underlying implication being that they'll have their own room if they do, but the chorus follows.

"I'm staying with Katelyn," Aaron answers, with a small tint to his cheeks. Predictable, though can Andrew talk right then?

Nicky slumps over on the ground, as if he's actually been putting in real work during practice. "Hells yeah, I need a drink."

Kevin doesn't take well to being ignored, what a shock.

"We need to practice, Neil," he tries again, and that finally gets Neil to face him fully, expression unamused.

"I can handle it Kevin, I don't have any other choice but to play well," Neil jokes morbidly. Andrew's pretty sure he's the only one who appreciates it, but it's inaccurate. Nothing is taking Neil away from him again. The team winces at the callousness, but Neil plows on unperturbed and with an air of arrogance. "Which I always do."

Kevin looks like he doesn't know whether to strangle Neil or appreciate the confidence. It's so Kevin-like it makes Andrew want to roll his eyes.

But no, it's still all Neil. It's all instigation and the need to rile people up. Andrew really wants practice to be over.

"You heard him," Andrew says, and even Neil blinks in surprise. Andrew doesn't normally compliment Neil openly, it's too much affection for him to share or admit to. Yet, the implication is clear. It's the closest Neil will get to praise right then, and he looks ecstatic about it.

Andrew cannot stand it.

Matt and Dan snort off to the side; they didn't used to be so supportive of Neil's relationship with Andrew, but lately they seem to delight in what they call their 'bizarre flirting.'

Kevin stares at Andrew long and hard, as if that'll make him produce words in Kevin's favor. Andrew meets the gaze with some difficulty, but only because Neil is radiating 'I'm over here' energy so unabashedly.

Kevin inhales sharply, grabbing his helmet off the ground like someone would slam the door after a fight.

"Just block the damn goal," Kevin orders, and Andrew's not sure he will. He'll try not to be so unaware the next time though, if only to save him from this headache. Kevin points his racquet at his fellow striker in warning. "Neil--"

"Right, gotcha," Neil says, waving him off. Kevin storms away, and Matt actually does laugh then as he follows, the team spreading out. Allison huffs from the lack of answers, but leaves them be. She's smarter than she looks too.

However, Neil doesn't move. He rocks in front of Andrew's goal, and Andrew thinks he's actually standing closer than he was a few seconds ago.

Neil smiles that stupid smile, soft at the edges and expectant. He has to know Andrew won't kiss him here, but...Andrew wants to.

To want, to want, to want.

The same mantra from before isn't as heavy as it once was. The swarm in his head is gone, but the implications are not.

"Junkie," Andrew warns, because if Neil doesn't get back into place Kevin will really bitch them out and they'll never get to Columbia.

"That's me," Neil answers with a dangerous glint. They both know they're not talking about exy.

"Go," Andrew warns, pushing his racquet into Neil's chest. He tries not to watch Neil's limp when he stumbles, the satisfaction making the heat in his abdomen swirl.

Neil lets that laugh loose again, and Andrew drinks it up, now that's it's only for his ears.

"Okay," Neil whispers, eyes losing the teasing glint for just a moment. A different feeling takes them over, soft and sure. Andrew meets the gaze this time, unable to look away. He feels seen, and there's no 'but' or need to deny it. It's just…how he feels. Andrew is starting to believe that just sitting in that feeling, without analyzing it, might be alright every now and again. Neil waves again as he walks backwards, only turning when he absolutely has to. "Bye!"

It's unnecessary, and Andrew shakes his head. His face feels hot, but Andrew finds his response comes automatically. "Bye..."

Andrew entertains the idea that he already floated away long ago, and cannot hope to reach the ground again. But it's fine, since the air up here is fairly stable.

Neil jogs around the court some more, missing passes and looking back over at Andrew any chance he gets. Andrew stares right back, with no intention of stopping, and even indulges Neil every now and again with the tilt of his head or concealed expression.

Andrew misses a shot again about ten minutes later, letting the ball fly by his face without even looking at it. Luckily, it's the end of practice, so he can drown out Kevin's protests.

He had a good excuse; he has better things to keep track of than shots at the goal.

Kevin grumbles his displeasure all the way off the court, but Andrew stays where he is, waiting for Neil to jog over like he's been wanting to do since they stepped foot in the stadium.

It'd been the longest practice of Andrew's life, he realizes, and then shakes his head at himself for being so dramatic. Neil smirks at him, like he knows it.

And oh, he probably does.

The sight of Neil coming towards him breaks even Andrew's self-control, and he dares to take a step forward. It feels oddly right, not weak.

He meets Neil halfway, and ignores the sound of Nicky's voice, immediately followed by Aaron's loud retch when his cousin asks:

"Hey Neil, why are you walking so funny?"

[madeofstardust17]

Whumptober prompt 9. Shackled

Rating: T (description of injuries)

Tw: none, but I guess aftermath of torture?

Lance & team, a little bit of pinning lance at the end

I'm sorry this is kind of rushed

...

Lance felt numb. Well no, scratch that, he felt numb everywhere except for his arms. 

His arms were on fire. 

His muscles were screaming with pain, he couldn’t feel his hands, and his wrists were scraped bloody where the shackles were biting into his skin.

It was almost a relief that he felt numb, because he was pretty sure those galra soldiers had beating him up pretty well.

He had a cut on his eyebrow that was steadily dripping blood down the side of his face. 

He was pretty sure his ankle was twisted, and bruises and cuts colored his whole body. 

And he may have a concussion, but he wasn’t sure. 

The door slammed open, and pain erupted in his skull as if he was being kicked repeatedly. Again. 

The light and sound that came from the door, made his vision black out and his ears to ring. On yeah. Definitely a concussion.

“Lance?”

He knew that voice. Shiro.

He could have sobbed with relief. Instead, he groaned. Finally, he was going home. 

The team opened the door and the sight that received them made their blood run cold as they stared in horror.

Lance, without his armour, bloodied and bruised, was hanging suspended by his arms, his toes barely touching the ground.

The shackles were firmly wrapped around his wrists, which were bleeding, making a trail of crimson run down the boy’s arms.

“Oh fuck” said Keith. Shiro didn’t have the energy to correct him. Oh fuck indeed. 

“Lance?” Shiro tried not show the fear in his voice 

“Is he conscious?” Pidge’s voice sounded small and high, sounding more like the child she was than normally.

Lance responded with a groan. 

That kicked Shiro into focus.

“Hunk, guard the door. Make sure no one gets through it. Keith and Pidge, come with me”

The chains were tied on either side of the walls, and Shiro told Keith and Pidge to untie them

“Okay guys, slowly, bring him down, easy does it”

Lance’s feet touched the ground, but his legs wouldn’t hold him up and his knees buckled. 

Shiro surrounded him with his arms, propping him up. 

“We need to keep his arms up, he looks like he’s been suspended for a while”

“Why?” Pidge, ever curious asked 

“You know when you fall asleep on your arm and you feel pins and needles when you wake up?”

“Yeah”

“Multiply the pain by 50”

“Oh”

It was a slow process, getting Lance to lower his arms. 

Keith and Pidge each grabbed one, and slowly massaged the, gently, mindful of the bloody wrists. 

Lance gritted his teeth, trying not to make a sound. His muscles were cramped and stiff from the forced position, add that to the obstruction of blood flow, he was probably a sight to behold.

“Guys, we gotta move!” Hunk called from the doorway, his gun at the ready “we’ve been spotted”

Shiro cursed in something that was definitely not english. He looked at Lance.

The Cuban found that his tongue felt heavy on his own mouth, plus he was pretty sure his jaw was bruised, if not cracked, so speaking wasn’t really an option right now. 

So he looked Shiro in the eye, totally serious for once, and nodded. 

With a pained expression, Shiro told the other two to lower Lance’s arms completely. 

The pain from before had been nothing compare to what he felt now. He couldn’t even move his fingers, his whole body tense like the string of a guitar as what seemed like fire coursed through his veins. 

He choked back a scream as his muscles spasmed, and just buried his face in Shiro’s shoulder, trying to muffle whatever sound might come out of his mouth. 

Shiro just placed a hand on his head and held him, waiting for the initial wave of pain to wear off.

When the burning had gone from pure hell to simple insufferable, Lance exhaled, letting his body go limp. 

A moment later, he was being gathered in Shiro’s arms, too weak to even attempt (and most probably fail) to walk on his own. 

He dimly heard Shiro telling the others to collect his armour, which lay in a messy pile in one corner of the room.

He choked back a broken sob. 

He was going home. 

Now that he was moving, he could feel with horrible accuracy every single bruise and cut, wincing every time Shiro jostled him, which was pretty much always, since he was running. 

He could dimly hear the unmistakable sounds of a battle around him, but the concussion made it difficult to understand what exactly was going on, since one second he heard the sounds as if he was underwater and the next it felt like someone was screaming bloody murder in his ear. 

He didn’t dare open his eyes, too tired to even try, but nonetheless he grabbed onto Shiro as hard as he could, which wasn’t much, given he could barely feel his arms.

They still hurt, but at least he could feel his fingers, even though they were tingling. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign. 

Something was happening. 

The shouts and blasts were louder than before, making the pain in his head spike. 

Shiro was shouting something, and then he was manhandling Lance into a firefighters carry. He wanted to warn Shiro he was going to throw up if he kept moving him around, but his mouth wouldn’t move. 

The he was being transferred into someone else’s arms, and he desperately tried to hold on to Shiro, but the man gently pried his fingers on, softly saying something that sounded reassuring, but he didn’t understand it. 

The new person was carrying him in a firefighter carry, running as if his life depended on it. 

It probably did. 

The person was thin but strong, his shoulder all pointed ends. 

Keith then.

The sounds disappeared and lance sighed in relief. 

His consciousness was slipping away, bit by bit, he could feel it. 

Keith stopped running, but Lance barely registered it. 

He was being lowered into the floor, sitting propped up against a wall.

“Lance” 

Lance tried to look up, he really did, but his head felt too heavy for his neck.

The Keith prodded at particularly sore spot on the side of his head, probably from a kick from the guard. 

His head snapped up, and he glared at Keith.

But his teammate just looked relieved at seeing him awake. 

“The lions are coming” Keith told him, though he figured this out more by reading his lips than by listening to him. 

“Can you stay awake?”

Nope. 

He tried to shake his head, but the little energy he had left was quickly disappearing, and black spots were dancing in his vision again. 

“Lance!”

His head dropped, but Keith held it up with a careful hand underneath his jaw. 

His indigo eyes were wide with worry and his cheeks were flushed in a way Lance found adorable.

He wanted to say you’re so cute, but his body was shutting down quickly. 

Keith scooped him up again and started running once more. 

And then he heard the roar of a lion, and a presence in the back of his head. 

We’re coming, my paladin.

He smiled and closed his eyes, feeling the way Keith’s hair tickled his jaw. 

And then he knew no more. 

[mobius-prime]

285. Sonic Universe #12

Knuckles: The Return (Part 4 of 4): Echoes of the Past (Part Four)

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! Colors: Jason Jensen

Things are certainly dire, as both teams of heroes (minus Julie-Su and Ray, still up on Angel Island) have been captured by Finitevus and the local Dark Egg Legion chapter. Finitevus gloats about how well his plan has gone, that he found the Legion when he was investigating the very same ruins that had Knuckles so confused, and from there orchestrated an alliance between himself and them, so they could capture Angel Island for Eggman/the Iron Queen's regime and Finitevus could study the Master Emerald at his leisure. After monologuing a bit at the furious Knuckles, he takes his leave to go oversee Angel Island being reeled back into the Great Crater, something which… really should be more stunning to everyone involved, if you ask me. I mean, literally the past several centuries of echidna history have been irrevocably shaped by exactly this concept, returning the island to the planet's surface. Dimitri did his whole godhood insanity thing entirely because people didn't agree with his plan to set this in motion, and perhaps even more importantly, his plan was shown to have failed in an alternate timeline, causing the island to crash into the earth and kill everyone on it. Apparently, this entire time they shoulda just been using regular ol' chains to do the job! Imagine after so many hundreds of years of this being an issue, Finitevus really did just accomplish the task with some random chains. But anyway, Finitevus leaves the prisoners to the overwatch of Bill, who so far hasn't said a word during Finitevus' speech despite his former friends being among the imprisoned.

Oh no! Whatever horrible tortures are about to befall our heroes? The torture of having their shackles fall off harmlessly, as it turns out. Yeah, of course Bill didn't just turn evil for no reason! Though he does appear to have some beef with Vector, remarking angrily that he'd have preferred if Vector stayed chained up. Man, what in the world did Vector do in the past that pissed off so many people? Barby demands an explanation, with her dialogue vaguely hinting that she and Bill were possibly involved romantically, so Bill explains that several months ago when Eggman began pushing in this region, the other platypuses decided they wanted a little taste of that power and began demanding to join up. Bill couldn't talk them down, so instead, he went to Eggman and voluntarily joined his cause, becoming outfitted with cybernetics along with the other platypuses, hoping to manage the situation from within. Apparently he never found a chance to tell his former teammates that he wasn't actually evil after all, but he's been doing his best to mismanage the campaign in Downunda without seeming too suspicious. Everyone is pleased and relieved, and he urges them to quickly make their escape so he can play it off as having been overpowered while separated from his backup. Thrash happily obliges, and reveals his own special power - yelling so loudly that it can break down doors. The fight against the Legion in the crater quickly commences, but Walt encourages Knuckles to head back to his island while they carry on the fight here on the ground. Vector can't see a way to get back up without their warp ring, but Mighty apparently has an idea of his own.

I just need everyone here to remember that according to canon measurements, this island floats forty-three miles (69 km) in the sky. Yes, I realize that's only the case because Penders didn't create his units of measurements with sanity in mind. No, that does not mean I'm ever letting this fact go. It's also worth noting that this entire arc portrays the crater as not looking much bigger than like, a mile across at the most, but the island is forty-seven miles (75 km) across at its narrowest. I mean, we already knew that no one pays attention to matters of scale in these comics, but still, I notice, and it bugs me to no end. Consistency, people!

Anyway, Mighty tosses Knuckles alllll the way up to the island, as the fight continues to rage on the ground, and he hops up over the edge just as Finitevus is about to put his grubby hands on the Master Emerald. No sign of Julie-Su or Ray anywhere, huh? Knuckles is immediately ready for a fight, but Finitevus tries to talk him down, actually apologizing for forcing him into the role of Enerjak before. Knuckles still isn't buying it, but then Finitevus hits him with the bug guns - Dimitri actually wasn't the first Enerjak. Finitevus claims to know everything about the echidnas' history, the fact that Enerjak goes back much further in their history, the true history of Albion, the origins of the mysterious ruins in the desert, even some secret about Aurora and how she may not even be a real goddess. Knuckles is clearly torn for a split second, because damn are those some juicy-sounding secrets, but he's shaken back to reality when Finitevus tries to pull the "We're two of a kind, you and I" trick and promises, if he joins him, to give him "anything he wants." And what does Knuckles want?

Finitevus is not amused by Knuckles' defiance, and turns the fight around on him while mocking his childish desires. Hilariously, he actually does the cool-guy thing of catching Knuckles' punch in his own hand, which seems badass until you realize we're talking about the guy with spikes on his fists. I can only assume Ian forgot this little detail, or else the rest of this issue would just be Finitevus yelling in agony at the two brand-new holes that had been punched into the palm of his hand. Knuckles powers up with the energy of the nearby Master Emerald, while Finitevus summons his… I dunno, dark black evil-guy energy or whatever, and they go head to head, Knuckles reciting Tikal's prayer for strength, while Finitevus puts a new twist on the same chant.

I actually don't get Ian's fascination with Tikal's prayer at all. It's always recited verbatim from the version of it in Sonic Adventure, but personally, I always felt like it was strangely translated in that game, not really making a ton of grammatical sense, or any real sense at all, really. I mean, the chant was originally just supposed to describe the relationship between the Master Emerald and the Chaos Emeralds, but that's not relevant at all in this universe given the vastly different origins of both - the Master Emerald in the comics isn't a direct counter to the Chaos Emeralds like in the games, but one giant Chaos Emerald itself. I dunno, maybe this is just a nitpick, but it still confuses me.

Finitevus is impressed by Knuckles' display of raw power, but decides to end the fight quickly, and pulls out one of his warp rings, encircling it around Knuckles midsection and happily threatening to close it while Knuckles is still only halfway through. However, at that moment Julie-Su finally makes her entrance and shoots Finitevus in the shoulder, distracting him long enough for Knuckles to grab him and make good on his promise to throw him off his island. That doesn't seem like a proper solution to this threat at all, but eh, whatever, Knux is happy with it I guess. He, Julie-Su, and Ray all head back down to the crater, where the Downunda Freedom Fighters have finished running the Legion off for now, and say their goodbyes. Barby makes a remark that her father would have been proud of Vector, hinting at yet more unexplored history between him and the others, but he still refuses to explain further when Ray tries to pry. Thrash leaves through a warp ring of his own, making some odd comments about how it would be such a shame if the rest of the echidnas were to be wiped out - this guy really doesn't like echidnas for whatever reason - and with the threat settled, Knuckles and his friends finally head back onto Angel Island for some peaceful rest.

Yeah, gee Vector, I wonder why no one found a body? I mean, it's not like Finitevus has demonstrated that he can warp himself to safety mid-fall during literally the previous big battle against him or anything. Of course, he's safe and sound, and heads back to the crater once it's clear to watch the island's departure and muse to himself how his plans aren't through yet and he's ready to kill Knuckles when he next gets the chance - anything to put him closer to the Master Emerald. Let us know how your quest to off one of the comic's most popular characters goes, buddy!

[pricechecktranslations]

TTDS: The Ring of Evil; Chapter 4

Torture Tower Doesn’t Sleep: The Ring of Evil infomine under the cut

Scene 1

Gibbet is having her usual dream of things she doesn’t remember (the one in the previous two novels with the bracelet and such). These dreams make her doubt who she is, so she reaffirms she is Gibbet, and she was made by the torture device creator “Kilka/Kiruca (kiruka) Lassen (rassen)”, etc etc. It also makes her wonder on why she’s different from the others, being the only one who needs to sleep, eat, etc.

The dream doesn’t end when the boy gives the girl the bracelet, as it normally does. It continues. A large owl is flying towards the two. It attacks the girl, leaving the boy crying. There’s a flash, and the bird is gone.

Gibbet remembers the name of the owl as Stolasphia, and the girl as Christabel (kurisutaberu). She remembers that she is both of them.

Scene 2

When Gibbet awakes, she finds she is not in bed but standing in the tower foyer. She can’t remember her dream at all. Someone is knocking on the door, and she realizes that tonight is the meeting with Magion and the others (though they’re knocking pretty hard). She doesn’t respond. Eventually, the other person gets tired of knocking and breaks the door open.

It’s Garnes. There’s other people with him (thirty, I think she says—a fighting force), including Raymond and Tsukumo. She’s attacked by Isaac, but is able to stop him with heavy iron shackles with thorns on the inside. She runs upstairs. The other soldiers are about to follow when someone yells that it’s a trap (which it is—she has an iron gibbet ready to grab them).

After waiting at the top for a bit, she sees a light (Raymond’s lightning) shoot up the stairs and hit the gibbet hanging above, knocking it down. Gibbet speculates that Raymond’s lightning is being enhanced by Tsukumo.

She runs deeper into the second floor to get a new tactic around.

Scene 3

She waits at the staircase to the third floor for the intruders to catch up. She can see more lights, this time the lights of the intruders’ lamps. These are Romalius’ men, judging by the snake insignia on their armor. Along with Isaac, Raymond, Tsukumo, and Garnes, there are other assassins (wearing the same black uniform as Isaac). And, finally, there’s also Magion.

She greets the intruders, giving them a bit of a motive spiel about how awful they are and how the girls are doing a service by killing them to revive their father, blah blah blah (causing them to approach more cautiously and slowly). Raymond is watching the hole in the ceiling to make sure there’s not another trap, meanwhile.

Right as they’re upon her, Raymond finally notices the real trap. The ceiling itself is the trap—the whole ceiling around the hole is not the usual wooden one, but rock instead (presumably set up below the normal wooden one). Assuming I’m reading this right, anyway—it falls and crushes them. Gibbet escapes to the third floor, where she “passes the baton”, so to speak, to Rack.

Scene 4

So, the narrative refers to what Gibbet used as the “suspended ceiling”. They don’t use it much (for obvious reasons). Apparently as a torture device it’s used to crush people more slowly, so as to not outright kill them.

Due to the massive number of people, they’ve actually managed to survive the falling ceiling (all collectively holding it up). Rack goes up to the guy in the front and takes off his helmet, putting on one that’s superheated (a “fire crown”, it’s called—very rough translation, 火頂). What you’d expect to happen happens (and he burns his hands trying to take it off to boot), and she goes to the next soldier (they can’t stop her—they’re all holding up the ceiling). Garnes recognizes it, of course. It’s specifically designed not to kill the person right away, so they can suffer longer.

Garnes tells Isaac to run for a switch that’s behind Rack while he keeps her distracted. He calls her over and they talk for a bit (like how he did repairs on Maiden only to come back to try and destroy them all). She prepares to use the superheated helmet on him, when Isaac throws the switch and the ceiling lifts.

She tries to attack, but Raymond counters her. All the soldiers leap on her at once. She manages to evade them though, dashing downstairs. Raymond and Tsukumo pursue her, as well as several of the soldiers.

Garnes and Magion discuss that it’s better the crew has split up in case they run into any more group traps.

They also discuss the people with them (who are exhausted), Garnes pointing out that one of Romalius’ men (the man Rack put the helmet on first) has fangs and scales. The other soldiers get a bit miffed and Garnes drops the subject. They all decide to head upstairs. Magion looks outside the window and sees the lake, noting that it’s changed slightly from how it was before.

Scene 5

NOTE: You will have to pardon me—this next part is written after I decided to push through and finish infomining the novel, meaning there’s been enough of a time difference between the stuff previous and now that I may have forgotten what I have and have not shared in earlier chapters. So, if I repeat information, I hope you’ll forgive me.

Benji is there on the coast of the lake, the water level much lower than it was before (I believe it says one fourth of its normal height). Luna and Romalius are in a wooden boat on the water, and she bids Benji climb down to join them.

I’m having some trouble visualizing but basically, the portion of the lake that was previously submerged leads into a subbasement for the tower (one they’re traversing via the boat).

This is—slightly confusing for me, but as they approach the tower they see that another tower is there underneath it, designed like its reflection when the lake was full. Luna calls it the “Reverse Tower” (I guess I’m just not sure logistically how that works). As they approach the reverse tower they see another boat ahead of them with two men from Luna’s team. They’ve blown a hole in the wall so that they can enter the reverse tower, but warn that as it’s been submerged for so long it might be unstable.

Luna, Romalius, and Benji all jump from the boat into the tower. They end up in the middle—three floors belowground. The reverse tower doesn’t appear decorated much, and the walls aren’t made from anything Benji’s seen before (not rock or iron). Romalius speculates that, rather than this being built under Torcia tower, Torcia was built to conceal this tower. What he’s trying to obtain in this venture is in this reverse tower.

Luna draws them to another room, where she’s found a small red altar. It’s made up of three parts—the lowest level has (toys?) made to resemble food on plates. The one above it as a variety of wine bottles. And the one on the top level has a wineglass the same color as the altar. It’s labeled “Blood Grave”. It smells horrible, like it’s already been oxidized.

They leave the room, Romalius leading them further down the tower.

Scene 6

Magion is regretting their strategy of splitting up. He’s on the third floor, and the soldiers with him were captured by countless talons (the witch spider things) coming from the ceiling. The unit got scattered trying to escape them. Magion was able to escape along with some others, but then they lost their way and are unable to find the stairs going up. Garnes and Isaac are missing too.

The soldiers with Magion are suddenly felled by Rabiah (who comments that they are familiars like him—I assume this means that what qualifies one for being a familiar is being a wraith that serves another wraith, in this case the soldiers serving Romalius).

Magion has a fear of birds from a trauma in his childhood.

Rabiah explains that most familiars are actually quite strong, and a master wraith usually only has two or three at most—Romalius is able to employ/enslave (the word here is unclear) so many only because he’s stolen that power from Stolasphia (Rabiah’s sister).

Before Rabiah can kill Magion, he is stopped by Gibbet. They quarrel a little (gist of it is Rabiah is bad at making a victim suffer properly to serve as food for Beritoad). Before Gibbet can do anything though, Magion reveals that he came to the tower to talk to her.

Garnes meanwhile is on the fourth floor, alone. Garnes considers going back down to watch the soldiers get tortured, but stays his course of going to see Maiden.

Note that in Hank’s time, the prison for holding victims used to be full of people, but is empty now. Garnes reflects on Hank a little, heavily implying that he was an HER (it doesn’t say it outright), and was only lauded as a hero because he killed the right people (foreign enemies). Garnes himself was praised for his torture work during wartime, but that went a total 180 once peace was achieved (not that he resents this).

Garnes is, to his delight, attacked/approached by Maiden.

Raymond chases Rack downstairs (as she’s the most dangerous from a strategic standpoint), a few soldiers in tow who split up to search the first floor. Confirms that Raymond can use the gold bracelet (the one he hid from Romalius) to strengthen his lightning attack using Tsukumo.

Raymond and Tsukumo find Rack in the dining room, torturing one of the soldiers with “Lissa-chan” (the iron coffin of Lissa). As Rack is distracted, Raymond and Tsukumo take the opportunity to strike.

Scene 7

Opens on Beritoad watching what’s going on. He is accumulating power from the suffering of the intruders. He is positive that today will be the day of his resurrection.

Scene 8

In the fourth floor down of the reverse tower, it doesn’t look too different from the ones above it. The only difference is that there is dense writing on the floor, and old relics and ancient texts lying about (all of them using the same type of writing). Luna says it looks like “Monsolo” writing (monsoro), an ancient type of lettering (though she can’t read it). Hargain was the only researcher to crack its meaning. Romalius has already gone down to the next floor, so they can’t ask him about it. They quickly follow after him.

On the fifth floor down, there’s a large open space. I thiiiink it says that it’s a circular, three-sided stairway for people to sit in (sort of like an amphitheater I guess?). The fourth edge, the part the seats are all facing, is an oblong altar. Amo (still incorporeal) is standing there, and he’s already talking with Romalius. Benji and Luna watch.

He calls Romalius the weakest of the 72 original wraiths (suggesting all others are descended from these 72), and thus is surprised he’s lasted this long. Beritoad is also apparently among their number, as well as Rabiah and Amo himself (note—Luna calls him Amostia—amosutia—so I’m going to go by that now).

Romalius attacks Amostia with a snake (the one from his tattoo), and it bites his arm despite him appearing to be incorporeal. Amostia remains calm, however.

Luna reveals her knowledge of Amostia, saying they must seal him. Explaining this to Benji (who had no idea), she points to the center of the floor, which has a grey bronze (?) statue wearing armor. She says the armored body itself is Amostia’s shell, and what Romalius is fighting is Amostia’s spirit. Their ancestors made the reverse tower to seal him away, and then built Torcia over top of it.

According to Luna, Amostia is one of the seven most powerful wraiths from the old days when there were more wraiths, and they clashed with humans. They need to reseal him because both Reverse Tower and Torcia are aging, and so too is the seal decaying. Note though—this is knowledge she got from Romalius, and she doesn’t fully trust it. She did though find a sheet of parchment in the tower that reads “72nd Experiment” on one of its lines (I think she’s roughly translating).

They’re not sure what to do about it though, so they continue to watch the fight.

Amostia chides him, saying Romalius can’t kill him by attacking his spirit alone. Romalius retracts his snake back into a tattoo. Amostia tells him to leave if he’s just going to mess around—he wants to tell Rack the continuation of the story he’s been telling her.

Finally, Romalius notices Luna and Benji there. He calls them over, and (Benji holding back, feeling in his gut that they are making a big mistake) sends Luna over to the statue. He points at the statue’s feet, telling her to look there. She does. He then brings his arm down on her neck and cuts her head off.

Benji bolts, charging straight at Romalius, furious. Romalius brings his arm down on Benji, and his vision goes black.

[rueitae]

Tear Stained

Read my whumptober collection on Ao3

This Commander Destek has nothing to do with the Commander Destek from day 1, i’m just tired of making new names.

~~~~~

“Leave him alone!” Pidge screams, her voice cracking and hoarse from all the crying and yelling she’s been doing. 

For what feels like the millionth time she desperately pulls on the chains that shackle her to the wall of this prison cell - the ones that keep her from reaching Lance across the room. 

“Stop it,” she cries, using her legs to leverage strength - though she remains stuck. Even though it hurts her, Lance has it worse. “He can’t take any more of this. Please!”

Their Galra guard delivers a thunderous punch and Lance falls hard to the floor, Pidge’s heart skipping a beat and lets out an audible, horrified gasp as his head ricochets off the metal floor. His eyes are closed and body lax, the chains connecting his wrists to the wall holding his full weight. 

Commander Destek tchs, his arms crossed as he stands watching to the side. “Disappointing he didn’t last longer. Wake him. I need the coordinates to the Lions.” 

The guard grabs the chains, claws out, ready scratch Lance’s unconscious face.

Pidge pulls on the chains again, snarling, her heart racing in panic. “He doesn’t know! You’re going to kill him if you keep that up, then you’ll never get the Lions!”

Destek places a hand on the shoulder of Lance’s torturer, and to Pidge's relief, lets go of the chains, letting Lance fall back limp. 

The Commander walks over to her, paying attention to her for the first time since they arrived here. Pidge steps away, back to the wall, shackled hands in front of her in some false sense of security, heart pounding as her breaths come short and fearful. Lance has taken the brunt of the pain, being the stupid loudmouth as usual… the least Pidge can do is take some of that burden from him. 

His hand is as large as her head, and Pidge recoils into herself as far as she can as he cups her chin. Pidge hates this - hates being so completely and utterly helpless. 

“You care a good amount for your fellow Paladin,” Destek says as he wipes the tears from her cheek with his thumb. “For one so small and frail you have a large voice. Perhaps you are ready to tell me the location of the Lions, and in return, we won’t hurt the boy further.”

Pidge sucks in several breaths, as if trying to remember how. The Green Lion has a barrier, although she doesn’t know where the Blue Lion is, she can offer her own Lion that is still intact and could potentially rescue them if in the same location. She spares them both further pain this way and allows a possible escape route. 

It's the most plausible plan she can devise, and it gives them time for the rest of the team to rescue them. 

“I can give you the coordinates for the Green Lion,” she says as evenly as she can. The steadiness and ferocity of her voice surprises even her. “I don’t know where the Blue Lion is.”

Destek hums thoughtfully and his subordinate grins cruelly. “Shall I smack the Blue Paladin around some more?”

Pidge squeaks - squeaks, how embarrassing - when he pulls Lance to a sitting position… at least allowing his arms to rest. 

“I wonder,” Destek muses, “how compliant you might be for me in return for his good health.”

Somewhere in her brain, Pidge feels a distinctive snap. With the universe at stake, she really can’t afford to be compassionate. She’s the gateway to too much information. Any one of them could provide information on the Coalition’s movements, but the things that Pidge knows make the Castle tick, the codes to files of ongoing undercover missions…

But Lance’s life is on the line. 

Destek laughs, momentarily providing her relief from answering. “I love that terrified look on your face, eyes wide and stunned like a cornered animal.” He pauses, only to ruffle her hair in affection. “I’ll give you some time to mull over what your cooperation will mean, and if your teammate’s life is truly worth it. For now, a show of good faith. In return for healing him, tell me a truth no one else knows - and make it juicy,” he smirks cruelly. “I must have something to keep my interest.”

Pidge swallows deeply. There is only one thing on her mind that fits that criteria, and it’s the worst possible thing Destek, or anyone could ever know. She desperately tries to think of anything else, but her mind keeps coming back to Lance, how he offered her to be part of the group right away, the first time he told her she was a genius, their nights of video games, and the way her heart races every time he gets in her personal space. 

But Destek is expectant and she feels like crying all over again for this hopeless situation. 

“I like Lance,” she spews, chest heavy, but the admission is already out. “A lot,” she continues, seeing Destek’s confused expression. “More than a teammate should.”

A light seems to light up in his eyes and his lips curl up even wider than before. “Here I expected an intelligence report, but this,” he purrs, “is even better.”

He knees to her eye level. “I am going to have a lot of fun with you on board, Green Paladin.”

Heat rushes to her cheeks. “J-just heal him and don’t hurt him anymore. You wanted the Green Lion’s coordinates didn’t you?” she spits out, closing her eyes as if it will take her away from this humiliation. She can’t stand to look at him any longer, especially now that he knows the secret she keeps from even from her brother.

More gently than she’d ever expect from a Galra commander, he lifts her chin. “A lot of fun. Perhaps I can even be persuaded to help you claim your mate.”

Pidge buckles to her knees, stomach churning at what that could even mean. 

To her relief, Destek finally lets her go. “Get the Blue Paladin healed, I want Green on the bridge within the varga,” he says as he stands. “We have some Lion hunting to do.”

Pidge slumps to the wall, breathing uneven as she watches the guard unchain Lance and drag him out the door. It closes moments later, leaving her in dark silence. 

There is no guarantee they’ll actually heal Lance, but Pidge hopes her personal embarrassment will save him so long as it interests the commander. But it also comes with the horrible realization, that just like she’ll do anything for her family - including moving the universe…

She’ll do the same for Lance in a heartbeat.