#eclipse tribute

[orawyra]

i never was able to play the first game before the bucket kick but i dont think youd need to play it to understand how much of an amazing and life changing community it managed to so quickly cultivate and continues to foster nearly 10 years later. this franchise has shaped me so much since i first became a fan in 2017 and began playing in 2019 i honestly dont know who i would be today without it.

thank you splatoon

[liyazaki]

you TELL HIM, honey 👏

the eclipse | episode 10

[lost-my-dragon]

saw something really weird while looking at today’s eclipse

[tomorrowcomesadaytoosoon]

Oh, won't you save us from what we are? Don't look clear, it's all uphill from here They say we're crazy

The World Remembers + Imagine Dragons - Who We Are

[thepeelingrenoir]

Tribute to Alain Delon by Kristin Dean

Music: Indila - dernière danse

[shortpplfedup]

Look I'm just saying I can fight, and the teachers are around my age.

[dropthedemiurge]

"Red sky morning whispers a warning, whispers the "silly boy, you're forever mine". Bleeding your soul out, a nick before fallout, you're staring so bravely like there's nothing to hide - like you know how to breathe, like you're perfect for this. You give a promise you won't keep, and that's how it slips. That's how it kills you - to be torn apart by different palms on both shoulders, by their warmth and their weight, oh how they manipulate - you, the silly boy bleeding under the moon.

And by the time when it's noon, by the time you've endured, you can breathe for a while and wish you were gone. And to the island you're gone, salty tears washed away... There's a different warmth that you find in embrace. There's eclipse on your lips, and even though in your sleep there are footprints of nightmares and judgemental jeers,

you are here. Not alone. You're not gone, and the skies in the morning may bleed,

but you won't."

[uniqueartisanconnoisseur]

Music of the Eclipse in Richmond, IN

The music of the 2024 eclipse was one of absolute silence during the four minutes of Totality! Dr. Wes Tobin, Assistant Professor of Physics at Indiana University East explained exactly what would happen when the moon eclipsed the sun. “There will be silence. The birds will go to their nest, the bees will drive into the grass if not near their hives. Cows, horses and dogs will run thinking a…

[cerise-apple]

if you go, we go together.

[ironychan]

Getting emotional about how animals have no idea how much we love them.

Kabosu and Maru and Tardar Sauce had no idea they were superstars. Miette is unaware that people all over the world know her name.

Brave Little Hunter doesn't know that thousands of humans are rooting for her. 52 Blue has no idea that they have inspired films, books, poetry, and music. Porphyrios didn't know he nearly bankrupted an emperor or that we'd still be talking about him 1400 years later.

Kipekee doesn't know how excited we were to find a second like her.

Lonesome George didn't know people came from all over to see him, and will continue to pay tribute to his taxidemied shell. I wept looking at him in the AMNH, and for Martha and for Benjamin and Celia and all other, nameless endlings. I looked at him and wondered if the last Neanderthal knew they were the last.

Eclipse never knew he was a champion. Dolly didn't know she was a breakthrough. Balto didn't know he was a hero. Laika never knew what she died for or that we regretted her death or that we still speak her name.

Maybe it's better we can't tell them. Maybe it would go to their heads. I don't know.

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.15. NOSY BITCHES!!

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . mystery by raveena

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

okay so tbh i'm going completely off script at this point bc i'd actually planned for kenma and y/n to have another fight 😭 but the more i thought about it the more i thought it was just repetitive and i just didn't think it fit anymore and i don't think anyone will complain about that

but it also means i'm cutting like three chapters and we have ?? two chapters left to go??

and sadly kageyama does not get his moment of spotlight in this smau </3 and i'm still trying to decide if atsumu gets redemption or not which is why this chapter started with his texts which i realized i should have done at like the end of last chapter or something i'm sorry </3 hopefully it still fit ok!!

y/n and kenma were both so tired last night that after they talked they both fell on to her bed and cuddled <3

after kenma texted the pretty setters & problem children gc he went back to sleep and soon after y/n woke up to leave for her classes

when was the last time kenma went to his classes in person? idk. he doesn't know either

it was also pouring rain when she woke up but she was so happy she woke up next to kenma she wasn't even mad

y/n was texting kenma in class when it was quiet and everyone was working on an assignment so when he started talking about being official she wanted to scream so bad

she just bit suna instead who gave her the most concerned look ever and was like "ow?? bro wtf???"

kenma was so worried when she stopped responding he thought he'd made her uncomfortable

kenma took y/n to nabana no sato <3 a flower field-type garden place that also has nighttime light shows. in the winter they have a field of winter daffodils/narcissuses <3 (in tribute to y/n's twitter header on her private and her user on it)

twitter's going a little crazy rn between atsumu/yn fans and kenma/yn fans

kenma streamed playing stardew valley with y/n later that night <3

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @skylarkalchemist @kunimix @sereniteav @kodzubaby @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @r0seandth0rns @gsyche @kitnootkat @seillarium @tamimemo @myromanempiree @coldcigarette @eclipticnikki @squiishymeow @vivian-555 @cryptictheseus @eclecticeggknightpsychic @kodzukein @kawaii-angelanne @luvly-writer @kodzuken-hoe @kodzuken88 @bookworm-center @theweirdfloatything @glitch-karma @spicana

[jiubilant]

cw: blood

“Do you love your brothers?” asks the priestess of the god Ofaanruvaak.

The god, licking the gore from his great maw, grants her a burning look. He’d caught the god of the hillmen, his brother, winging over his land without tribute or tinvaak—and had named him anew for this insolence, that Ahrolmal who had been Ahrolmul would not again forget who was thur from pines to fens. Nor would the hillmen forget. The priestess, before sending her marshmen to make thralls and crowfood of Ahrolmal’s folk, had painted their faces herself.

Now she stands at the foot of the godsroost as Ofaanruvaak Raven-Gift clambers down. Stones skitter down the slope. The ground trembles like a supplicant. A tree trodden beneath the god’s foot groans, prostrates itself, and snaps like a twig.

“Tell me a riddle,” he croaks, his voice still hoarse with flame. He bends his head. Smoke vents from teeth longer than seaxes. In the gilded hall of Konahrik Jun, hung above the pelt-strewn throne, the priestess had once seen a god’s fang taller than herself.

“My beak is bent to the base of things,” she murmurs, her face as still and wooden as her mask. The answers of her god are often as circular as his paths in flight; she spends her days treading patiently after the shadow of his wisdom, which seldom eclipses her whole. “I go grave along the ground. My going-forth is green on one side, and my track is black—”

“Do they love one another, these words that you speak?” The vast neck coils around her. A breath, or perhaps the heat of the huge eye, scorches her back. “The parts of the lawspeaker’s speech—proposition, examination, refutation—do these love one another, sonaaki?”

“If the speech is wise,” the priestess suggests. Her hand drips with the blood of Ahrolmal, which she had daubed on her warriors’ brows. “If the riddle is glib.”

Her god snorts. A pillar of smoke swirls from his jaws and dissolves in the mist of the night.

“It is a plough,” he says. Like a child studying an ant, he rests his chin on the ground to look the priestess in the face. “Tell another.”

“I have one single eye,” says the priestess, her voice dry. The riddle is one of Konahrik’s. “And two ears, and two hands, and two feet. And twelve hundred heads.”

A pause.

“I do not know this riddle,” says the god.

“A half-blind onion-peddler.”

Ofaanruvaak’s huff of laughter ripples the priestess’s robes. He straightens. He’s not as large as the World-Eater, her god—but his scales, as slick with blood as her sticky hand, are almost as black.

“I love my brothers,” he says, lifting his head higher than the trees, “as you love yours.”

He nods to the western hills. A glow like sunrise crests them: the burning houses of the hillmen, abandoned by their god.

[eu-nicola]

Emotional Labyrinth - Luke Castellan x Reader

summary: You see yourself enveloped in a love that consumes and hurts you but that feels like love.

warnings: This story contains depictions of toxic and emotionally abusive relationships. Themes include emotional pain, confusion, and internal struggle. If these topics may be triggering or problematic for you, I recommend considering whether you want to continue reading. Remember that your emotional well-being is the most important thing.

inspired by “ultraviolence” by lana del rey

Before you could realize that you were in love with that boy with the curls and the scar on his face.

Falling in love was easy, his brave, charismatic and seductive nature were what attracted you. You had heard and they had told you about how manipulative he could be but you never really listened, from the beginning you felt so attracted to him that you didn't pay attention to anything else.

You didn't go unnoticed in his eyes either, you were the daughter of Aphrodite, of course you were going to catch his attention, your beauty, intelligence and charisma dazzled everyone, especially the men. You didn't go unnoticed in anyone's eyes and you liked that, being the center of attention.

This caught Luke's attention, so much so that he began to spend time with you, accompanying you to your cabin at night or walking around the camp when no one was watching, it was really lovely to be with him. As you spent more time together, the connection between you became deeper and deeper, but also more complex.

Luke seemed to exert an irresistible magnetism over you, drawing you more and more towards him and his desires. You found yourself caught in an emotional web, fighting addiction to the intensity Luke offered you. Even though you were just friends because he didn't want anything else, there were episodes of jealousy when you talked to other guys or when he thought you were doing something wrong. You tried every way possible to not get him mad at you because you knew he might go off with some other girl and that was the last thing you wanted.

The more you spent time with him the more he consumed you, he was like a vampire sucking your blood and consuming you. You were entering increasingly turbulent waters, the shadow of the emotional labyrinth in which you were trapped became denser. You struggled to find a balance between the passionate love you felt for Luke and the need to preserve his own emotional integrity.

And even through everything you always chose the love you felt for him because you knew that the love you felt for Luke wasn't enough for him but when you were in his arms he made you feel divine and loved, most of the time when he wasn't a jealous idiot spoiled and adored you. Your thoughts were so clouded that you didn't know if he was actually doing that because a part of him wanted you or just to keep you by his side. He clung to you as much as you clung to him but the difference was that he didn't get hurt.

Those few times where your thoughts were clear you wrote to free yourself. Your trembling hands held a letter you had written in a desperate attempt to give form to the feelings that were consuming you.

“You hurt me in ways I can’t even put into words,” you murmured softly, as if you were talking to yourself. "Every lie, every act of contempt, every moment in which I felt invisible in your eyes..."

A lone tear ran down your cheek as you continued, "But the strangest thing of all is that, in the midst of all that pain, I still found a way to justify it as love. As if every wound inflicted by you was further proof of how deep it was." "Our bond. It was as if the tears shed were a tribute to the love I felt for you, a love so intense that it eclipsed even the sharpest pain."

The letter trembled in your fingers as you continued writing, trying to unravel the tangle of emotions that had kept you trapped in an endless cycle of love and pain. And after all that you just burned them, letter by letter.

And with eyes red with tears that refused to stop. You realized that it wasn't the violence that scared you, but the certainty that no matter what Luke did, you would come back to him again and again. It was like he knew exactly how to lift you up in your darkest moments, how to wrap you in a hug that seemed to contain the entire universe.

Sometimes you desperately longed to return to the past, to a time when his paths had not crossed. But despite everything you loved him from the first time and you would love him until the end.

That feeling of being elevated above the emotional chaos that consumed you. Despite the pain and confusion, you kept coming back to his arms, seeking refuge in him, and at the end of the day he kept coming back to you too.

[fanaticsnail]

You Kissed the Clown? Part 13

Oh, my darlings. Crying, screaming, throwing up, drinking. I simply couldn't wait any longer

Word Count: 5,690

Part 12 here, Part 14 to come. Masterlist here in the interim.

Warnings: mention of a bomb/explosives, self harm (Nami)

Destruction.

Complete and utter desolation and devastation is what you were greeted with as you and the other four members of the Straw-Hat crew ventured into Tangerine-Town. Houses smouldering, upturned vendor carriages with not a soul in sight: fishmen nor other humanoid.

Shock fell upon the features of the Straw-Hat’s, comments on the sights that lie before you echo within the chasms of your mind as your mouth hung agape.

“Arlong did this,” your Captain uttered darkly, his eyes narrowing in hardened resolve. You drew your sights to fall on the back of his straw hat, a snarl peaking its way to the side of your upper lip as to express your displeasure.

“Hey, Shit-Hat,” Buggy’s decapitated head called from its place resting against Sanji’s hip from within a canvas satchel hanging loosely from his shoulder, “I think we can all agree that Arlong is a bad fish, but why don’t we quit lolly-gagging and get my body back?”

“Pipe down in there,” Sanji ordered the shrouded head, rolling his eyes at the comment.

“Or what?” Buggy taunted from within the bag, “you gonna whip me up a soufflé?”

Sanji turned to Usopp and muttered to him, “why don’t you take him for a while?”

“Ooh, new guy carries the clown-head,” Usopp commented, his hands raising themselves defensively to pass up the opportunity on being Buggy’s handler for the day.

You took a few steps closer to one of the ransacked houses, noticing a small object twinkled at you within the rays of the sunlight eclipsed by cloud-cover. Crouching down to examine the object, you stooped down to clasp it in your hands. Turning it over in your palms and smoothing the dirt away from its rough exterior, you found it to be a dart of some kind; feathered at the end with a sharpened brass tip tapering into a piercing point.

“Keep up, Tinkerer,” the green haired swordsman called to you, “can’t have you getting too far.”

Rolling the dart over in your hands once more, fury washed over your senses as the world began to fall away from your vision. You had but one focus, and one focus only: destroy Arlong and lay waste to his legion of fishmen.

“Aye, sir,” you spat in return, much to the shock of Zoro at the darkness in your tone.

Keeping up pace with your crew, your vision returned to you as your body brought yourself before a large gathering of people collecting a tribute into a small wooden chest.

“Do we have time to get some more?” a woman asked from the crowd, clasping her chest to stabilise her panicked words.

“No,” a voice called, the crowd parting to reveal your orange-haired companion, “you don’t.” She stalked like a predator hunting their prey into the crowd and made to collect the box from the leader of the town.

“Nami,” you whispered, mouth slightly agape at the sight. Zoro held his hand against the chest of your Captain to restrain him from sprinting over to your former navigator and confront her.

A blue-haired woman in the crowd murmured something to your former companion and spat at her feet in disgust, before turning and walking away from the gathering of people. Luffy’s eyes trailed the woman as her form retreated into several of the lined houses and swiftly away from your vision.

Looking over again to the trail of destruction and tuning out your surroundings, a small whisper of divinity eclipsed your mind. Your sights did not teeter back to interact with your orange-haired companion as she engaged your captain with a hardened taunt and threats of great harm falling upon you all.

Clarity: true and vengeful struck like lightning into your mind as untested and untrialled knowledge enchanted your tinkerer thoughts. You could barely feel the tug on your wrist by your sword-wielding companion as he led you, glassy eyed, throughout the road and down towards the direction of the blue haired woman.

Potassium nitrate. Charcoal. Sulphur. Clay. Cogs. Gold. Copper. Tubing. Piping. These thoughts eclipsed your thought as you absent-mindedly began searching your tinkerer’s pouch for your tools and any of the items you prior thought to include.

As your team entered into the last house down tangerine grove, Zoro relinquished his grasp on your wrist as you were brought to a halt.

“You okay?” he asked in front of you. Your eyes remained unblinking in their focus as you began assembling your items within your fingertips. Barely again processing the rough, calloused hands clasping your shoulders to shake you from your thoughts, you finally graced your eyes upwards; breaking from their glazed state.

“Where’d you go?” he whispered to you in question, “you didn’t respond when Luffy spoke to you. That’s not like you.”

You sighed out a low, rumbly sound through your chest; “leave me here.”

“What?” he uttered, mimicking your same dark tone.

“I cannot fight, Zoro,” you growled, “both you and the clown confirmed that. What was it you said? I can’t kiss my way out of this one,” the last comment you mimicked in Zoro’s tone, laughing a cynical and depressed laugh afterwards.

“Not only did the fishmen torture the man I’ve come to love,” you began darkly, turning your sights back to the town, “but they’ve brought pain and destruction on this town and several towns over.”

Zoro released his grasp from your shoulders.

“What are you saying?” he asked with a deep frown.

“I’m saying it’s not enough,” you sighed before lowering your tone, “I’m not enough. I can’t do what you do.”

“Nobody is asking you to,” Zoro’s tone lightened slightly, bringing you back to fix your vision into his eyes, “you’re a tinkerer, not a fighter.”

“That’s right,” your eyes glimmered with an unnerving twinkle, “I am a tinkerer.”

You began clasping at your pouch again and sunk onto your knees on the wooden floor outside the window of the wooden cabin; emptying the contents on the wooden floorboards under the shelter of external roofing.

“What are you doing?” Zoro asked you, his tone more cautionary than questioning.

You laughed again in a manic sort of way, remaining your fixed gaze holding to the items on the floor before you; “tinkering.”

Zoro, holding his arms out defensively chose to disengage from the conversation; leaving you to rejoin his companions within the cabin. As much as you truly desired to join with your crew inside, your true goal was to currently muster enough energy fuelled by vengeance to create something of chaos, destruction and mayhem rolled into one.

The day became eclipsed by the setting sun as you worked tirelessly on the ground in front of you; pouring powder into vials, screwing cogs against brass bolts, heating a flaming rod of solder and joining pieces together to firmly fix them in place. The scent of charred metal permeated along the wooden perimeter as fumes turned to smoke and ash before you.

“It is done,” you uttered to yourself, eyes wide and a sinister smile befalling your senses.

Bringing your shaky hands to the object you had created, you grasped it within your fingertips after securing a timing mechanism to the face of the object. You rose to your feet, feeling a numbness come over your thighs and calves from kneeling so intensely against the floor for so long. You cringed a little at the pain, soothing over your aching thighs by massaging and kneading the flesh under your palms and fingertips. You thumped your fist against your right thigh before quietly standing uprights; opening the door to welcome the retreating form of your captain followed closely by his first-mate.

Stepping aside from the doorframe and bringing your gaze to fall on the ground, you allowed them to exit the house and leave to be in solitude with a polite bow.

While remaining in the cover of external darkness, a quiet voice began echoing a single word repetitively. As you craned your ear to hear what it was saying, your body jolted as you were frightened by a sudden loud, vocal: “BOOM!”

“Buggy,” you thought to yourself, smiling a little as you made your entrance into the building.

“Yeah,” the blue-haired woman sighed, “I’m gonna go get some air.”

Hushed conversation resumed between Usopp with Buggy’s decapitated head perched atop the blue-haired woman’s dining room table. You were not able to quite make out the words from your position outside of the house, so you began to make your way into the dining room to meet with your remaining crew.

“Ah, screw you guys!” Buggy yelled from his position on the table, “Arlong’s gonna bite the shit out of you anyway.”

You halted your steps, coming to situate yourself next to Sanji and out of view of Usopp and the clown-captain as he continued relaying; “You know you don’t stand a chance against him and his army.”

“And you dumb pieces of garbage,” he continued relaying, prompting Sanji to move from your side and collect a tangerine in his right hand, “you ain’t gonna do anything against that stupid-,”

Sanji moved to thrust the orange, cylindrical citrus into the open mouth of the clown, uttering: “new guy shuts up the clown head,” with a light smirk.

Buggy began coughing and sputtering against the intruding object thrust between his teeth. You creased your eyebrows and shook your head in disapproval at him, a smile peaking at the corner of your lips when his eyes fell on your form.

“Mmf ner dngre der, frner?” he asked you in a soft tone, his eyes softening in question.

You flittered your gaze to Sanji, quirking your eyebrow up to him and gesturing with your chin at Buggy’s head. He held his hands up defensively before wordlessly extending his arm out to usher you to claim the object of everyone’s unease and spirit it away from the common area.

You shook your head, moving to place down the brass object in your hand to rest it beside Usopp’s tools.

“It seems we’ve got very similar ideas,” you said, gesturing down to the items Usopp was cradling in his hands.

“Panic?” Usopp questioned you, eyes wide in desperation.

You laughed at his comment before gesturing to the brass object you placed atop the table, correcting him: “explosives.”

Both the eyes of Buggy and Usopp’s bulged within their sockets at how abrasive your off-handed comment was, before their sights were turned to the proximity of the large brass object on the table.

“What’s the range on that thing?” Usopp asked, reaching to touch the object before apprehensively wincing away from it, “is it active?”

“Only when I want it to be,” you chuckled to yourself mainly, “I’ve rigged a timer to a detonator.”

“What’s it for? You going to kill Arlong with that thing?” Usopp asked frantically.

“I don’t know what it’s for,” you shrugged a little, patting his shoulder lightly, “but I know what it does.”

Turning your smiling eyes to meet with a nervous-looking Buggy once more, you gestured your right hand out to him as to wordlessly ask him if he would allow you to lift his head from the table. He immediately began jumping upwards at the notion of leaving the company currently present to join with you in a more intimate area of the surroundings.

Giggling, you placed your hands gently against his jaw and caressed your hands gently to reach under his decapitated neck to raise him upwards to you. You nodded politely to Usopp as the gagged clown began shaking in delight in your arms. Turning around towards the kitchen, you nodded again to dismiss yourself from the chef in the room; an action he reciprocated with a smile.

As you made to exit the room, Sanji gestured to the black satchel. You shook your head and scrunched your nose at him before exiting the house one again.

“What does she even see in him?” you heard Usopp utter as the door closed behind you, breaking your silhouette away from the light and under the cover of darkness once more.

“I’m not sure, I’m just the new guy,” Sanji mocked Usopp’s tone before laughing at his own joke.

You shook your head and began to walk to be far from the wandering eyes and ears of your crew, desperate to have a moment alone with your beloved jester. You found a small row of tangerine trees, sitting down on a small patch of plush grass and bringing your knees to the righthand side of your body, resting your weight on your left hip as you reclined your back against the trunk of the citrus tree.

Turning the face of the clown you had been dutifully carrying, you noticed the tangerine continued to remain held within his jaw. A small amount of saliva had begun gathering at the corners of his mouth as it struggled to contain the spherical object within his mouth. You placed his head on the ground in front of you before gesturing for him to place the object in your awaiting palm.

Attempt as he might, he could not dislodge the object from his lips by maneuvering it himself. His eyes began to widen in panic, prompting you to reach upwards to his lips.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” you whispered, reaching your thumb and index finger to his lips to pry the object from between his teeth. He winced slightly before the tangerine was finally dislodged. He circled his jaw, his voice making an “ah,” sound in relief before he looked up at you through his long blue eyelashes. You tossed the tangerine to the side to lay beside the other fallen citrus fruits on the ground below their trees.

You hesitated your next move, but ultimately decided to go through with moving Buggy’s head to lay perpendicular with your left side as you lay your body down to rest fully against the green grass, moonlight caressing both of your bodies.

“Well isn’t this romantic,” Buggy’s voice cut through the silence, prompting you to giggle in response.

“I suppose it is, yes,” you agreed with a nod of your head, before uttering, “it would be even better if all of you were present.”

Buggy released a groan from his lips as he jumped his head down from its upright stance to lay his right cheek against the ground, gazing deep into your eyes.

“I didn’t mean what I said, if you heard it,” he uttered, eyes brimming with seriousness.

“Oh?” you asked, arching your brow, “and what did you not mean?”

“You’re not a dumb piece of garbage,” he uttered in a tone beneath his breath, “none of your crew are.”

You laughed at his comment, bringing your right arm over your body to make your position more comfortable.

“Why did you say it then?” your eyes twinkled, teasing him with your tone.

“I’m frustrated,” he snarled with his eyes roaming your form, “I just-.”

His voice halted in his absent throat, his gaze being brought back to rest against your own; your eyes half-lidded while maintaining a coy expression.

“I just want to hold you,” he confessed breathily, “I need to feel you flush against my body. I crave you, my queen.”

You smiled, studying his face. His paint had become more askew atop his face, allowing your eyes to meet with the dark blue stubble that had began revealing itself more prominently below his red hued lips. You brought your eyes over to study his pierced ear before trailing to the top of his red and white bandana.

Apprehensively, you reached your right hand towards the top of his head, smoothing over the fabric of the bandana beneath your fingertips.

“If I promise to put this back,” you began, meeting your eyes with his teal ones, “may I remove it from you?”

His eyes flittered between your own before he allowed his face to nod slightly in confirmation. Sighing lightly, you reached both of your hands over to his bandana and pulled the object from his head, allowing the soft blue locks to free themselves from their bonds beneath it.

A gasp left your lips as some strands fell into his eyes, prompting you to reach your right hand over to cast them from skewing his vision. The feeling of his sea-worn hair was softer than you anticipated, noting the bandana must’ve been maintaining the structural integrity of his hair relatively well.

Before you realised what you were doing, both of your hands fell within the scalp of the soft blue hair the clown in front of you adorned, a sigh falling from between both of your lips under your ministrations. You raked your fingers through his hair, his eyes falling closed as he relished the feeling of your gentle touch.

“You are so beautiful,” the words escaped your lips before your mind could keep up with them, having your thoughts overexerted from their earlier fixation on tinkering. Your fingers stiffened in his hair as your mind caught up with your words, prompting Buggy to chuckle at your confession.

“You are even more beautiful, my queen,” he uttered quietly, reopening his eyes to gaze into your own.

Starlight flickered against his pupils, highlighting his teal hue beneath his long, blue eyelashes. Your breath caught in your throat as you became transfixed under the soft gaze of the genius jester. Breaking from your grip in his hair, your fingers trailed to lay at the back of his neck before fleeing from their place to lay in front of your body.

“Why did you stop?” Buggy asked you in a voice above a whisper, “I was enjoying that.”

“I’m sorry,” you hurriedly said, apologetically, “I would never want to disrespect your boundaries, especially because you have no way of defending yourself.”

He rolled his eyes at you before unceremoniously hopping from his place to bring his face within inches of your own.

“Baby, if I wanted you to stop; I’d bite you,” he warned you with narrowed eyes before chuckling, his red nose scrunching and smile lines becoming prominent against his eyes. You laughed at his comment before looking at him quizzically; prompting him to do the same.

“What is it?” he asked, his eyebrows creasing in the centre at the question.

You began searching your mind for the appropriate answer before shaking your head and just speaking directly from your thoughts.

“Your chop-chop powers,” you began, prompting him to crease his brows further and his smile fall from his face. You continued; “where, uh-. What happens to your hair?”

His brows knit together further before his laughter erupted from his lips, a wide smile appearing once more.

“That’s what you’re thinking about?” his voice broke through the air, “where my hair goes?”

You exhaled a sharp breath through your nose in protestation of his laughter, before a wide smile overcame your own features.

“To answer your question,” he began after teetering off his laughter, “yes, it keeps growing. If I want short hair like this-,” he flicked his neck to reveal his chin length locks more to you, “I simply remove it.”

Your brows creased before you reached up once more to smooth through his hair, brows again furrowing in curiosity.

“It’s in my hat,” he chuckled, “I removed it for flare, sweetheart. And now the fucking fishmen have that along with my other fun parts.”

If you had a drink, you would’ve unceremoniously spat the liquid in laughter. Instead, you choked on your own saliva at his comment, prompting him to laugh in response.

“I thought you were going to ask me about something more serious than that,” he said, quieting down his laughter as you recovered.

“Oh? Like what?” you asked him in response as your lungs once again filled with an appropriate amount of air.

“Like if all my parts can detach,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, “which they do.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, once again reaching for his head and smoothing your hand over his stubbled cheek and raising your fingertips to brush his pierced ear.

“Buggy,” you addressed him, moving your eyeline from his hair to rest once more against his own.

“Yes, dearest?” he chuckled, “what? More questions?”

You shook your head, smiling at him in chastising his statement.

“No more questions,” you confirmed, “just a statement.”

“Oh?” he asked, bringing his face closer to your own, wiggling his cheek against the green plush grass.

You smiled at him and smoothed your fingertips over his cheek before resting your palm against the rough surface of his stubble.

“I am likely to perish tomorrow,” you nodded your head cynically, prompting the playful expression to flee from his face altogether.

“Don’t say that-,” he began, prompting you to rest your fingertips lightly against his lips to halt his sentence.

“Please don’t interrupt me, my love,” you affectionately commanded him. He nodded frantically in confirmation of your words. You sighed before moving your fingertips back to their place resting against his stubbled cheek.

Buggy felt himself swoon under his new title bestowed to him as he chased your retreating hand with his lips and placing a small kiss against the skin before fully allowing your retreat.

“I am not a fighter,” you nodded your head at your own statement, “and I do not expect my crew to lay down their lives to protect a tinkerer – a boatswain – within the thralls of battle. I am replaceable-,”

“-Don’t,” Buggy warned you, eyes narrowed and commanding presence returning to his features.

“Please let me finish!” you said, desperation clawing at your words.

“Then hurry up and say what you need to say without putting yourself down!” he commanded in a booming voice.

The wind began to blow the sea air against the tangerine trees, filling the air with their bitter-sweet scent.

“I want you!” you spoke, eyes narrowing as you realised the words you had spoken. You shook your mind from your own thoughts and doubled-down on your confession: “I want to go with you so badly. I want to leave my crew behind to join with you; body and soul.”

The words pulled themselves from your throat freely as your eyes began to brim with fresh tears, emotionally draining you from your frustrations.

“I want to feel you within my arms, hold you against me and tell you how much you truly mean to me as I feel you relax into my arms and become one with me,” you began, tears pricking at your eyeline and threatening to break over, “Buggy-,”

“Kiss me,” Buggy commanded you, bringing your attention back from your inner intrusive thoughts and back into reality.

“W-what?” you stuttered over your words.

The clown in front of you sighed as his eyes became darkened under his hardening resolve, a snarl pulling at his lips.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he spat at you, all humour and playfulness fully fled from your interaction; leaving only destruction in its wake.

“And what might that be?” you taunted him, your own snarl forming between your lips and growing into a deep frown.

“I want to be with you, but I’ll never leave my crew,” he said, scrunching up his features and mocking you in a horrid, high-pitched voice.

You snarled at him, baring your teeth at his harsh words.

“I don’t sound like that-“ you began, only to have your words halted by Buggy’s voice replacing your own.

“But that is your intention, isn’t it? I can tell by your tone, sweetheart,” his voice remained elevated, only stuttering under the title he bestowed to you; his own eyes beginning to swell, “you’ll leave me just like the rest of them.”

Choosing not to speak, you allowed a small tear to escape from your left eye and fall to the greenery beneath you. After the one tear escaped from your left, your right followed swiftly behind it.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Buggy reiterated, his breath hitching in his non-present throat, “tell me you’ll come with me and rule at my side as queen of the pirates-.”

“-I can’t,” you whispered, halting the next words from escaping his lips in their formation behind his mouth.

A moment of uncomfortable and tense silence fell between you, the breeze again gracing itself over your features and blowing Buggy’s exposed locks within it; hindering his sights from meeting your eyes.

“See,” he chuckled, relieving the tension, “this is why I wear the bandana. This shit always gets thrown in my face without it.”

A giggle began to erupt within you as your bottom lip remained downturned, a sob following it before you allowed the laughter to take over. You reached your hands up to his face again and raked his blue hair away from his eyeline, his eyes meeting your own once again as he sighed into your touch. You smiled at him, prompting him to do the same.

“I love-,” you began.

“-Please don’t,” he spoke over you, closing his eyes and shielding his emotions from your sights, “if you won’t come with me, I won’t allow you to.”

“Buggy-,” you again found the words halted by his voice.

“-I said don’t,” he whispered, keeping his eyes tightly shut.

You inhaled a deep breath to fill your lungs as your mind hardened in its resolve. You placed your hand against his cheek and closed the gap between your faces; finally bringing your lips to lay flush against his own.

Unlike the first kiss, you had no need to muster bravery, stupidity or something else entirely. You knew within your minds eye that this kiss was something of purity. Something true. Although you promised both him and yourself that you would not engage with him without his entire form being fully present, you could no longer withhold expressing your adoration and affection for the genius jester as he so beautifully humbled himself before you. Your body responded directly to his direction breathily spoken moments ago.

“Kiss me,” his words echoed within your mind as you trailed your right hand from his cheek to rest against the back of his neck so tenderly.

You felt him inhale a sharp breath through his nose at the initial shock of the contact made between you before whimpering against your lips at the sudden contact. He relaxed against your lips as you soothed him with your hands, brushing his loose hair beneath your fingertips.

He maneuvered his mouth effortlessly against your own, his tongue dancing at your lips to prompt you to open yourself up to receive him. You parted your lips, an action that had a low groan resonate within his bodyless throat as he pushed past your lips with the muscle to meet with your own.

Tangerines; the citrus that was so unceremoniously thrust into his mouth, successfully gagging him by the chef earlier, was the flavour you could taste as your tongue danced against his own. The bitter-sweet citrus being the perfect analogy for the emotion you truly felt as you moved your hand from the back of his neck to trail down his jaw and pull him closer into you.

He struck his chin against your own to angle your face upwards to deepen the kiss, him very much in control over the embrace; although he was just a head. You felt him moan against your lips as he continued to push himself further against you in an attempt to bring himself closer to you. You gasped as you felt his tongue retreat back within his lips, his teeth meeting your bottom lip in its stead, nibbling at the puckered flesh; coaxing a moan from within the chasms of your chest.

Your heart fluttered at his ministrations, a heat gathering itself at the pit of your stomach as a sob released itself from your chest and into the lips of the clown in front of you; prompting a similar response of his own.

He broke from the kiss, resting his forehead against your own; his nose resting flush against your own.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered against your lips, his breath halting within his mouth, “I can’t live without you.”

You moved your hand again from his jaw to rest behind his head, massaging small circles at the nape of his neck.

“I can’t leave my captain,” you whispered in return, circling your nose affectionately against his own, “nor will I leave my crew. I would sooner die than betray them.”

Buggy clenched his teeth as fresh tears began to flow freely from his eyes, betrayal the emotion gathering itself within his chest all but three miles away from his current proximity.

“I will never stop pursuing you,” he whispered; his breath becoming one with your own in its proximity.

“And I-,” you began, smoothing over his face with your fingertips; prompting him to reopen his eyes to meet his gaze against your own; “-will never stop loving you.”

Screaming interrupted your thoughts, as your body and Buggy’s head jolted forward at it’s vocalised interruption. You immediately sprung to your feet, your arms stooping down to collect the head within your grasp as you fled to its source.

“Arlong!” the voice cried, baring their soul in intensity.

Your feet carried you faster than you expected it to be, especially while cradling the head of your lover between your arms. As you sprinted on, your gaze was halted by a sight your mind could not readily process.

Nami lay askew on the floor beneath her, a blade clutched within her right hand as she thrust a small blade within her grasp against her tattooed shoulder.

Her movements became halted under the firm grip of your captain as he approached her crouched form.

She looked to him, her eyes filled with sorrow as she continued to clutch the blade between her fingers. Her breath hitched within her throat as your captain bore his eyes into hers, echoing her sorrowful intensity.

“I told you to get the hell out of here,” she uttered darkly, her tone becoming skewed by her sorrow.

“You did,” your captain confirmed monotonously.

Nami’s blade fled from her grip and fell to the ground as she collected herself against her growing rage.

“Then leave,” she commanded; rage and darkness filling her voice at her orders, “you don’t know anything about what’s going on here.”

“I don’t,” your captain agreed with her, the same monotonous and dark tone gathering within his throat as his resolve hardened.

A silent moment passed between them, tension hanging within the air as you cradled your lover’s face between your arms; bringing his view to the situation as it unfolded.

“Luffy?” Nami quietly addressed your captain, turning her sorrowful gaze to meet with his eyes, her voice becoming desperate in its addressal; “help me.”

Your captain reached his right hand above his head and collected his straw hat from above his head, removing it from his raven hair and placing it atop Nami’s orange locks; securing it in place with a firm push.

“Of course I will,” he uttered darkly before turning away from his navigator and maneuvering his body to face his crew.

“Of course I will,” he again growled below a whisper of a breath, his resolution resolving within an awaited breath. He walked down the dirt road to meet with his crew: Usopp sitting against the ground, his arms folded: Zoro propping himself up by his single remaining white blade: Sanji smoking his cigarette down to the butt of the filter before flickering it away.

“Of course I will!” your captain screamed into the empty road, a declaration of his intentions thrust in solitude into the road ahead, Nami bringing her right hand to stifle a sob gathering in her lips.

Luffy’s gaze narrowed, brimming with a single purpose as he uttered: “let’s go,” to direct his crew.

“Right,” the voices lifted of your crew, and within the chasms of your own chest in confirmation on the next course of action.

Usopp stood to his feet and checked his perception on the movement and sounds resounding from before you.

“What’s that?” he uttered in question, prompting you to turn your own sights to the noise echoing ahead.

“They’re attacking the village,” Usopp uttered, confirming your fear as smoke littered the sky with its fumigation.

Echoes of battle hung within the sky; explosions, gunshots and shrieks from civilians joining in a sorrowful chorus of pain.

Reluctantly, you handed over the head of your beloved to the arms of Sanji. You made eye contact with the teal irises of the clown as you parted with him, spiriting away to meet beside your orange-haired navigator.

“What happened, love?” you asked her, bringing your right hand to rest above her left shoulder, noticing her flinch under your touch. You flittered your eyes down to meet with her fresh, self-inflicted wound on the side of her arm.

“Arlong told the Marines the location of my treasure,” she sobbed, her eyes meeting with your own.

You brought her into an embrace, cradling her hat-adorned orange hair into your left shoulder. Your eyes narrowed, your purpose forming within your chest.

“Which Marine?” you asked her, darkly.

She released herself from your embrace, searching your eyes for an indication of your intentions.

“A commander,” she whispered to you, prompting your gaze to meet with her own, “his name is Nezumi. He took my gold: the ransom for the freedom of my village-.” A sob caught in her throat as she attempted to collect herself.

“Shh,” you soothed her, your hand rubbing circles against her skin; “say no more, my dear.”

You released her from your embrace and brought her gaze to meet your own; wildness and mischievousness gracing over your features.

“W-what is that look for?” she asked you, her eyes flittering to meet with your own to search for reason within them, being met only with an unnerving smile and wide eyes.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” you reiterated, smoothing your hand over her form to comfort her; only to unnerve her more, “now I know what it’s for.”

Part 14

Tag List:

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[cf8wrk4u-us]

How The Lost Light Canceled The Hunger Games

Summary: To a Cybertronian, 200 years is nothing, barely a foot note in this peaceful time where bot are trying to rebuild their world and society.

But 200 years is a lot to humans though, 200 years is a lot for Earth in general.

Things change, humanity changes.

And as Cybertron will learn, not for the better.

But this is something the members of the Lost Light wouldn't stand for.

(Based on these ask given to @yes-i-write-fanfiction

https://www.tumblr.com/yes-i-write-fanfiction/735322098308890624/in-honor-of-the-ballad-of-songbirds-and-snakes?source=share

We're on a flat, open stretch of ground, a plain of hard packed dirt. 

Behind the tributes across from me, | can see nothing, indicating either a steep downward slope or even cliff. To my right lies a lake. To my left and back, spars piney woods. This is where Haymitch would want me to go.

 Immediately.

I hear his instructions in my head. “Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water”

But it’s tempting, so tempting, when I see the bounty waiting there before me. And I know that if I don’t get it, someone else will. That the Career Tributes who survive the bloodbath will divide up most of these life-sustaining spoils. Something catches my eye. There, resting on a mound of blanket rolls, is a silver sheath of arrows and a bow, already strung, just waiting to be engaged. That’s mine, I think. It’s meant for me.

I’m fast. I can sprint faster than any of the girls in our school although a couple can beat me in distance races. But this forty-yard length, this is what I am built for. I know I can get it, I know I can reach it first, but then the question is how quickly can I get out of there? By the time I’ve scrambled up the packs and grabbed the weapons, others will have reached the horn, and one or two I might be able to pick off, but say there’s a dozen, at that close range, they could take me down with the spears and the clubs. Or their own powerful fists.

Still, I won't be the only target. I’m betting many of the other tributes would pass up a smaller girl, even one who scored an eleven in training, to take out their more fierce adversaries.

Haymitch has never seen me run. Maybe if he had he’d tell me to go for it. Get the weapon. Since that’s the very weapon that might be my salvation. And I only see one bow in that whole pile. I know the minute must be almost up and will have to decide what my strategy will be and I find myself positioning my feet to run, not away into the stir rounding forests but toward the pile, toward the bow. 

I notice Peeta, he’s about five tributes to my right, quite a fair distance, still I can tell he’s looking at me and I think he might be shaking his head. But the sun’s in my eyes and-

CRASH!

A symphony of broken glass and metal erupted across the arena, the once sunny and clear blue sky darkens into a mess of pixelated screens and  crumpling scaffolding. But that's not what had our attention. 

From the growing crack in the forcefield  was a large aircraft, far bigger than the Capital hovercraft that had brought us to the arena. It was colored in a bright orange red and yellow with tinted dark glass on its front, so massive was its size that it literally scraped the sides of the entrance it cashed through. Sending more of the broken structure to crash down.

My breath picked up, heart hammering in my chest as I saw the craft get closer and closer to us,  I noted absently how its shadow easily shaded over me the rest of the tributes. Practically eclipsing the whole arena. 

A part of me screamed to move, to run, I thought of images of a hawk as it swooped over a desperate rodent. But the rational part of myself firmly and calmly reminded me that I needed to stay still on the circle before me or I would end up in pieces from the land mines.

But even that became a physical struggle as the aircraft landed sending a heavy gust of wind that threatened to blow tributes back from their stands. I braced my knees and even as I couldn’t stay on I grasped to stay right on the circle. In fact I noticed how others did the same , but a few weren’t successful. Such as one male tribute, from District 5 I believed, who was sent tumbling off. I gave a quick look from my position, ready to hear and see a mess of explosions…but nothing happened.

Even the District 5 tribute, whose face had paled, was now looking confused at the fact he wasn’t a mess against the grass.

The gong hadn’t gone off, yet the mines were not active, so what had the trigger time run out?

Has the Hunger Games begun?

In my head the passing thought came of how this could just be a scenario made by the Gamemakers. 

That perhaps the games already started and here I was just standing like easy prey.

But as I heard another groan of metal from the collapsing field above, even I had to admit that was a stupid idea.

Even so, then what was happening?!

Finally the craft opened and a bridge slid down, then stepping out with a thump of metal and heavy footsteps were what I can only name as giants.

Giants covered, no, made of metal!

Then it barely took me a second to recognize what these beings were.

Transformers.

In our history books it always seemed that throughout Panem past and even before the creation of the country, humans have always been each other's greatest enemies. But as stated in our history books, thousands of years ago, there was another race of beings that almost wiped out the planet and the entire human race with it.

Aliens from another world, giant transforming robots known as Cybertronians.

Beings of metal brutality and cold indifference, a warring species who brought their conflict with one another to Earth and put humans right in the crossfires of it.

Only leaving once almost irreparable damage was done to the planet.

As a child and learning about them in class I sometimes would look to the night sky in terror at the thought that these aliens were still out there. Just hiding among the deceptively beautiful stars.

But after losing my father, struggling to hold what was left of my family together, and the helpless dread that came with the annual Reaping; I learned rather quickly that the monsters in real life were far scarier than that of thousand-year-old metal terrors that hadn’t been seen in ages.

What was there to fear of beings who hadn’t been interested in Earth for centuries?

How ironic that my only fear had been my fellow humans when it came to surviving the arena.

Four stepped out from the ship, taking the lead was a fiery red and orange mech whose colors matched the design of the ship. Next to him came the largest of the group was colored a deep blue and red with white high shoulder guards on each side. Besides them was the shortest of the group of Cybertronians, his dark armored body barely reaching the orange one's waist and who unlike his companions didn’t have a visible face of sorts but a blue visor that fitted their red and white helmet. And finally from behind was an imposing gray and black figure, whose armor may appear more subdued in coloring and design than his group, his helmet a simple flat triangular design, nonetheless was buff and strapping. Power practically screaming from just his image alone, and when his red eyes gazed over to us I couldn't help but shiver under their intensity. Not feeling any better when I noticed a sort of dark blaster on its right arm.

He seemed familiar, his image perhaps one I had seen in my aging textbook?

I didn't have the time to ponder further as they finally stepped away from the ship and made it to the grassy field of the arena.

Like earlier I shifted my legs for a sprint, forgetting all about the food and weapons, my eyes shifting to the large expanse of forest that would be the only way to try to avoid whatever these stalking giants had in stored for us.

It was the only plan I could think of, the safest choice, and I’m sure Haymitch would agree.

Is he seeing this? Is the Capital? The whole country? Do they know where being invaded-

“Hello, there”!

I was taken off guard as the orange and red Transformer, the presumably leader of the group, called out to us. His voice was jovial and the smile that spread across his metal face was friendly.

Nothing that gave me a reason to trust him.

His grin persisted as he marched closer only shifting as several tributes cried out and scrambled to escape.

“Wait! Wait”! The giant robot hurriedly said “It's okay”!

I didn’t stop in my sprint  till I made it to Peeta, not complaining as he firmly grasped my wrist and pulled me into a hurried pace.

We needed to leave, put as much distance as we could from these metal monsters.

“We're not here to hurt you”! The Transformer said in a surprisingly desperate tone “We're here to help you! Save you! Too Stop The Hunger Games”!

I nearly fell as Peeta stopped.

“Peeta”! I hissed trying to tug him towards the forest, but he refused to move instead looking dumbfounded at the robot. As if he believed what it was saying.

But as I looked around I could see the other tributes had stopped as well, with the ones who made it to the woods actually peeking from the edge of the treeline.

The red and orange robot's face morphed into a softer expression before he went down on one knee. 

I gestured I couldn’t help but recognize from my sister Prim when she approached the small scared animals she nursed back to health or in my mom to the anxious sickly children that were brought to be treated at our home.

This Transformer, this giant of a being, was trying to make himself smaller so that the tiny humans before him wouldn’t be frightened. 

That…didn’t sound like the hostile warring species from my history class.

I stopped trying to move Peeta.

Seeing that he had our attention the robot spoke again, his voice soft but clear.

“We're here to save you, you won’t have to die today, not for some game, and especially not for your Capital” he stood up before looking at the smaller Transformer “Rewind, are we ready”?

“Just about” they, Rewind, answered “Though before we start mind stepping a little to the left”?

“Huh, why”? Asked the leader

“Because captain, if we were trying to sell the whole “we don’t mean any harm” image maybe we shouldn’t be showing how we trashed their enclosure”? Rewind said 

The apparent captain looked to the shattered entrance they had created before sheepishly smiling “Yeah…better not let them see that yet”

“Doubt it will make much a a difference” said the gray and black Transformer, his voice was sharp and curt “No doubt their Capital already knows about the damage done to their little arena”

“This difference is Megs is that we're making a statement” said the Captain “One that has to be said as soon as possible, ready Rewind”?

“Whenever you are” said the smaller bot, tapping the side of his helmet.

I was confused why he did that till I noticed a redlight shinning on the side of his helmet, a video recorder perhaps?

With that the red and orange giant stood straight ahead, his gaze intense as he looked at Rewind “Citizens of the Capitol and Panem, we come in peace”!

CRACK! CRASH!

At that moment more scaffolding and material decided to come tumbling down into the arena as if to loudly object to the statement.

I winced at the noise and off to the side I could see the largest of the Transformers actually pinch his brow in an exasperated manner. A scene I could almost find funny.

 Despite this though the captain gave only a nervous chuckle before speaking again “This is Rodimus Prime, and despite our rather abrupt entrance, we have only the best of intention for our arrival” he face then became more serious “While I understand that as of now most of the citizens of this country recognize us in a hostile light, we Autobots,  many members of the Cybertronian race have viewed Earth and its people as sentient like minded beings. Ones who needed protection and safety when our war did unfortunately touch your planet. With some humans even becoming valued allies who fought besides us during such a perilous time” Rodimus stopped then, his blue glass eyes dimming even “After the war we left Earth, both out of a need to protect this planet from any further conflict we may have had  and out of respect for humanity who wanted to independently run their society once it was rebuilt, a wish we were determined to honor” his voice then harden as he continued “But recent discoveries and findings have forced us to decide to break this arrangement, this biggest being your so called Hunger Games” Rodimus practically spat that word out “A society whose higher caste who not only feeds greedily on it’s citizens but demands blood tributes out of its children, making a game out of their very lives! It will not continue! Not if I can help it”!

I watched transfixed as he raised a fist to his fiery chassis “I call an end to the Hunger Games! Starting now”! He calmed “Again this isn’t a message made out maliciously, I want more than anything to resolve this peacefully, I hope you can believe me citizens of Panem”

Rewind then made a gesture and Rodimus visibly relaxed, even giving a small laugh.

“So did we get all that”?

“Sent it right to our sources, hopefully it was enough to get it to the other Districts but you can bet those big cogs in the Capitol must have seen it”

“That's good” Rodimus nodded before beginning to walk “All we got to do is wait for now”

“You know Optimus Prime isn’t going to be happy about the stunt we pulled today” the gray and black one, Megs, spoke again.

“Well Optimus shouldn’t have been dragging his pedes over this,” responded Rodimus “But if anything just say you were following the captains orders, I’ll take the fall”

“I highly doubt he believed that” the blue and red Transformer said

Rodimus actually shrugged before looking our direction again, he gave another reassuring smile “Just hang tight” he said “I almost got you all out of this”

No one responded for the longest time, till in a quiet voice spoke out.

“Is this really happening”?

I couldn’t pinpoint who spoke, but that voice echoed a question I was asking myself.

Was this really happening? 

I recalled the proclamation made by the Transformer not even a minute ago.

An end to the Hunger Games.

No more Hunger Games.

The games were canceled.

Was this really happening? Barely a few minutes earlier I was ready to run for my life and fight against my fellow tributes in a bloody arena, but now I was being told that we didn’t have to fight by a giant metal alien.

I felt Peeta shudder beside me and when I looked at him I could see how wet his eyes were getting, he covered his mouth trying to muffle a sob. Without thinking I pulled him close and let his weight sag against mine.

I was ready to let our time in the tower be our final goodbye, knowing that the chances of us making it from the Cornucopia was slim at best and remaining allies had an even smaller chance.

But saying I wasn’t relieved would be a lie, I was relieved that the games hadn’t started, relieved that Peeta and I were still together, relieved that we were going to be okay.

And if a few tears and raspy breaths left my mouth I wouldn’t find myself ashamed for it.

When we were calm enough to pull away I looked to the other tributes; most  stood with their Districts. Some crying and clinging to one another, a few who decided to look through the packs of supplies littered around the arena, but most just staring at the Transformers that stood by their ship.

Well most of them.

The apparent captain, Rodimus, was actually walking leisurely towards the pond. Then literally popping open his chest cavity pulled out a pole of some kind that had a string at the end of it.

It took me a second to realize what he was doing.

“Is he…”? Peeta started

This Transformer, a giant metal warrior, a captain that led his own crew, and just broke into the Capitals arena and called an end to the Hunger Games; just plopped himself at the end of the water and began to fish!

Peeta actually coughed a laugh besides me “Can robots even eat fish”?

I didn’t know and wasn’t sure to find out.

But surprisingly enough Peeta let go of my hand and actually got towards the robot!

“Peeta”?! I whispered harshly “What are you doing”?

“I want to get a closer look at them” he said 

“Peeta, wait”! I said urgently “They’re Transformers, it might not be safe too-”

“They saved our lives Katniss and you heard them, they don’t want to hurt us” Peeta said but before he kept moving he held out a hand to me, encouraging me to take it.

I hesitated though.

Despite what these Transformers had done for us, despite their promises, I still didn’t feel comfortable putting myself in a squishing range of them.

Peeta gave me a disappointed yet understanding look and continued on. Surprisingly even some tributes began to take his lead, forming a small crowd.

The bot, Rodimus, began to notice their approach and gave a large smile at them. 

“Hello there,”!  he said 

None of the tributes worked up the nerve to greet him back verbally but I could see Peeta giving his own smile in return along with an energetic wave of his hand.

A part of me had to keep myself from rolling my eyes, it was just like Peeta to try to get people to like him. The games may have been over and these giants claimed not to mean any harm but Peeta was still trying to play it safe.

He really was clever like that.

But ultimately it wasn’t Peeta who opened up to the metal giant.

“You know how to fish”?

This came from the young 12 year old from District 4.

“Yup” Rodimus said “Back when I was stationed on Earth a good friend of mine taught me, I got really into it after that” He ended that by adjusting his line a little.

The District 4 boy's eyes widened before giving a curious gaze at the pond next to them.

“Do you think there’s anything in there”?

“I hope, in either case I’m just glad to be fishing again”! The robot said “I told myself that if I ever came to Earth again it would be one of the first things I did”! He stopped before asking the Tributes besides him “Do any of you fish”?

Again most stayed silent but the District 4 didn’t hesitate to raise his hand and say “My district is responsible for most of the fishing done, some of my father and uncles are even allowed on the boats to go to sea for the bigger stuff, we even have competitions during the season”

Rodimus' eyes seemed to glow brighter “Oh, so you're a bit of an expert huh”? He asked leaning closer “So what's the biggest fish you’ve caught so far”?

The young boy's face went red, from the freckles of his nose to the bouncy curls on his head.

“Um, just a couple of mackerel with my dads old fishing rod ” he said quietly almost embarrassed “I catch a lot more with nets with my friends”

“Mackerel! Wow that impressive”! The giant robot expressed eagerly “Most of my fishing is done in freshwater, I say the biggest I got was just  5 pound bluegill but boy was he a tough one-hey I didn't catch your name by the way”

“Luca” said the boy “Luca Alberts”

As the red and orange Transformer continued to chatter on about his fishing experiences the group of huns around him seemed to relax more and more, feeling at ease his casual attitude. And it seemed to affect some of the other tributes too who had previously kept their distance.

I moved closer to where Peeta was in the group, catching more of the conversation made by Rodimus to the District 4 tribute.

“So do you really hope to catch anything”? Asked the boy, Luca

“Who knows? Best way to pass the time anyway” Rodimus responded

“You might want to be careful” a voice suddenly said

It was one of the male tributes, I didn’t recognize him initially given he looked like another of the 14 year olds that were taken into the games. Then recalling a yellow suit I realized this must have been the tribute from District 3, his bright yellow dress shirt being the only thing that stood out in his rather dull interview with Cesar.

“You don’t know what might be inside the pond” the District 3 Tribute explained “The arenas are supposed to be set up with all kinds of traps, ones operated by the Gamemakers and ones set loose like the Mutts”

“Mutts” Rodmius said quietly “Right, those lab made animals they make” his happy expression turned into a somber one before his smile returned “Well, it’ll be fine! If there's anything dangerous lurking in these water, just trust your friend Rodimus to help”

He added a thumbs up that honestly felt corny, but seemed to please the younger tributes.

“I’d like to fish too”! Luca announced

Rodimus hummed unsure “Well, I only have one-”

“It’s fine” he stated before going to the nearest pack and rummaging through it “There pretty simple to make if you have the right supplies”

Rodimus nodded “Then I'll trust the expert on this”

The boy gave a proud grin though mad a disappointed sound at not fighting anything before moving onto the next pack.

From where I stood I gave another glance at Rodimus and his robotic teamates.

To be honest it wasn’t enough to say these were robots, the Capital miniature cleaning or delivering drones definitely fit the definition. There movements stiff and uniform, moved with purpose in their singular task.

But these Transformers, they moved as a human would. Maybe not with the same fluidity but unrestricted, like the armor they were wasn't just something attached to their bodies but actually a part of them. Even the metal on their faces, despite how alien they looked,  moved so easily. And given Rodimus examples, with so much expression and versatility.

How could metal and gears and inanimate material move and soften so much like flesh, like actual breathing beings.

Because they were alive obviously….

For years I had it in my head that these aliens were nothing but cold hearted machines of war. That's what our history books told us, showed us.

But then again those books were written by the Capital.

And the Capital says a lot of things.

 I looked at the large Transformers before me; Rodimus chatting with the other tributes, the smaller one Rewind holding the side of his face as he gazed around so obviously still recording, and finally to the two largest bots who stood rather detached from the rest of the group.

I part of me wondered how different things have been if Rodimus and his people had come sooner.

Would the first Rebellion have been successful, would the Capital still have demanded to Hunger Games, would their even have been a Hunger Games, would-?

My hypothetical thoughts were cut short when a piercing scream went through the air.

Turning I could see some of the tributes scattering away from the Cornucopia as the male District 2 tribute came barreling out of the entrance swinging a large sword.

“Stop! What are you doing”?!! cried Rodimus, quickly getting up and abandoning his fishing pole “Why are you fighting! Your free now! No one is making you kill anyone”!

The brutish tribute, Cato if I member his name,  looked at the robot and actually gave a snarky smile.

“Are you stupid”? he asked “Do you really think you can stop the games? That we'll let you”!

From behind him I can see more of the Career Tributes gather behind him, each brandishing their own weapons.

“We're here for a reason! And I'm not about to let you take that away from us”!

More tributes scattered as the pack of Carriers ready their weapons and stalk forward.

Despite everything, despite all of Rodimus hopeful promises, I'm sure that there's going to be death even if these aliens did call for an end of the games.

Really how stupid was I to believe them, how stupid I was for not grabbing a weapon, or not just running when I had the chance.

“That's enough”! Rodimus ordered taking a step forward, barely restrained anger in his voice “Stop this now or-”

But already Cato was rushing forward sword already at the closest, hapless target.

Luca.

The District 4 tribute quest for fishing line and other supplies had put him just close enough to Cato line of attack, he kneeled by an open bag, to startled or afraid to run.

Rodimus quickly moved , the ground quaking in his hurried step forward. Avoiding get accidentally trampled on I didn't notice when Peeta left my side till I saw him rushing past Rodimus bright orange feet right for Luca.

The instance was too fast and too slow at the same time, Peeta running to the boy, taking him his arms to try and pull him away from the attack, the sword swinging down and blood sprinkling out.

I can feel myself yelling, Peeta name clawing its way out of my mouth as I saw the sword about to swing back down again.

BOOM!

A roaring blast echoed through the air as a bright hot beam of purple shot over the heads of the Carrier tributes.

The arena grew hot, it felt like the very air was singed from that one blast. Leaving A smoking crater in the far off distance that no doubt could have easily sizzled away any puny human in its path.

It felt hard to breath and my stomach threatened to lurch the meager breakfast I stomached back at the tower. But still I turned my head to look at the cause of the blast.

The gray and black mech.

Everyone was silent, afraid too move. Even the Carrier tributes, who had been a savage pack thirsty for our blood were left shaking. The District 1 tribute actually scared off his feet, ass to the ground as he look terrified at the glowering red eyed Transformer.

"You wanna try that again”? the Transformer said, his voice like a rumbling storm, his still smoking cannon leveled at the group of Carriers “I came here because I thought I was saving innocent humans from a cruel game made by a tyrannical society, not a rabid creature who sees fit to attack his own kind" 

Cato stupidly tries to argue "Its the Hunger Games-"!

"And as my captain stated, there are no more games from here on out" said the bot, but his face actually looked to soften a bit "Your a Carrier tribute, from what I understand, you were raised for this, all of you" he cast his eyes to the rest of the group "Raised to murder, slaughter, and entertain...but understand that from here on out the games are done….but if you feel so free to continue fighting than do it" 

The cannon lights up.

"Come forward and strike, make your District proud, make your owners proud" 

Cato seemed to be hyperventilating, he turned to his fellow Carrier tributes but they were all shrinking away under the gaze of the giant robot aiming their weapons at them.

All of these Carrier tributes, made into these roughness killing machines for the benefit of the games, reduced to scared children.

I find it laughable if I wasn't fixed on a moaning Peeta lying on the top of a silent Luca.

But I didn't dare approach till Cato, with an almost wheezy cry, squeezed his blade one more time before throwing it away.

The others following his example.

I rushed forward trying to evaluate the damage, kneeling besides Peeta I carefully tried to move him on his back and off of Luca. The boy looked fine but I startled to see that Peeta had a long slash cutting across his right arm. Cutting deeply by his elbow before becoming shallow by his shoulder. Bleeding very heavily.

I did my best to press on the wound, the warmth stickiness of it pooling between my fingers.

Peeta eyes were open with pain but still he managed a strangled “Katniss…”

“You idiot”! I couldn't help but snap “What were you thinking”?! 

He was so close to getting out! Getting out alive at least!

A shadow overtook us and I looked to see both Rodimus and Rewind staring down at us.

Rodimus was clear with horror as he looked at Peeta's wound.

“Scrap” I heard him mutter, I didn’t know what it meant but couldn't help but share his sentiment.

The sleeve of my coat was already soaked with blood. I knew I couldn't continue on like this, then stupidly I member there was a pack besides me.

I grabbed at it hastily looking through, cursing as I only found a few crackers, a empty canteen, and a pair of socks.

Despite this I stretched the socks as far as I could, rembering from my mother and Prims work that no matter what I had to press to keep the blood in! Huh, even with something so obvious I still was failing.

“Here” a voice said and I felt a weight besides me.

It was the young girl from District 11, Rue, and in her hands was a roll of bandages.

Quickly grasping it I thanked her and made to work trying to wrap the wound. Rue wordlessly held up the arm gently to let me encircle it further, though Peeta gave painful gasps still.

“Let's try tying part of the arm” said Rue tapping just above his elbow “It'll help with the bleeding” 

I nodded following her instructions, just like I would if it were my sister and mother. I was never a gifted healer like them and I didn't have confidence in the wrappings as I still saw red peaking through the white of the bandages. But I was still too glad that it stopped spilling on the grass.

The shadow above us got bigger and I felt Rue press up to me while Luca fliched.

“Will he survive”? asked the gray and black Transformer

“I-I don't know” Rodimus said “Oh, slag, we really should have brought Ratchet”!

“To be fair he may nor have been as helpful considering this is a human and not a Cybertronian patient”

“Yeah but-will you put that thing away Megatron”! Rodimus suddenly yelled in frustration 

Megatron.

I felt my blood run cold as I finally realized why I recognized this specific Transformer.

Images of him, him and his Decepticons, littered the chapter of my history book.

Describing one of the leaders of the two waring Cybertronian factions, this bot name was meantioned as to put a face to the carnage that was the species of Cybertronians. Deemed so evil and callus for his not only his utter disregard of human life but in his delighted in the utter suffering and destruction to the organic life on this planet. Pictures and accounts left no room for nightmarish imagination.

He barely looked any different,  I could still recognize him.

This was him.

This was Megatron.

I didn't hesitate to push myself in front of Peeta and the younger two. Despite knowing I was helpless to anything he want to do to us.

“It was just too prove a point” said the metal ravager “Wasn't even looking to maim”

“That's not the point Megs-”! Rodimus would have continued if the whole arena didn't begin to shake causing even the giant robots to become unsteady on their feet.

Suddenly the forest erupted in a burst of flames! And the once tranquil pond bubbled ominously, growing inside till literal waves were sloshing closer to the field the stood.

“I believe the Gamemakers are not too happy with us interrupting there game” said the blue and red bot named Mags as he approached his captain.

Getting a serious face Rodimus loudly ordered “Grab the humans, were getting out of here”!

Rodimus kneeled before us “We got to leave” he said before cupping his metal hand and holding it low “I know your friends hurt but we gotta move you guys”

There's a lot I can distrust Rodimus for, being a Cybertronian for 1. and having Megatron on his crew for 2.

But seeing the earnestness in his blue glass eyes and knowing staying in the arena meant only death, I could only silently shuffle Peeta onto the bright red metal with Rue and Luca following behind us. The metal felt oddly warm beneath me.

“That's it little buddies ” Rodimus said encouragingly “There we go” 

His fingers curling as the only warning before Rodimus lifted us up to a dizzying hight, from their I could see the other bots Mags and Rewind collect the rest of the tributes with surprising gentleness.

Something I also noticed is Megatron himself, simply standing there and staring at the Carrier tributes who panicked as the ground around them began to muddy as the tide of the water lapped at their feet.

I guessed that the metal destroyer maybevwanted to finish the job,but to my surprise he leaned down and scooped up the scared tributes. 

Soon enough Rodimus and the others rushed us towards their ship

It started dark before opening to a control room full of machinery and screen monitors.

“Magnus, get us ready for lift off” said Rodimus before going towards a large glass tank and gentle settling us inside there. Rewind did the same to the two tributes he held and the bot Mags/Magnus set down the rest.

There was some hesitancy as Rodimus saw Megatron with the Carrier tributes but he only made a clicking noise before jumping into one of the seats, no doubt the Captain chair.

“Are we ready”?

“Thrusters on captain”!

I barely felt the ship move but on the monitors is clearly showed us soaring above the almost decimated arena and lift towards the dome. I shuddered and continued to hold Peeta as once again the ship jolted as it scrapped against the size of the force field.

“Rodimus, I'm detecting several hostile flight carriers coming our way”

“Guess they really didn't appreciate our little peace demonstration” Rodimus said dryly as he gripped the steering device.

The monitors showed what was obviously Capital shuttles coming at the ship. 

There was a violent shudder from the side of the ship.

“Rodimus…should we engage” said Magnus quietly 

Rodimus voice was determined as he said “No, we agreed we weren't taking any lives today” but then an almost cheerful tone came to his voice “But I got something else in mind”!

The ship gave a jerk and I felt myself bracing against the surface of the tank.

“They want to chase us, then we'll go somewhere they can't follow”!

Despite the optimistic way he spoke it was becoming worryingly hard to breath.

“Rodimus” Megatron said in a stressed tone “Rember the elevation, the humans-”

“I think I know how to transport humans” Rodimus said sarcastically, but I couldn't help but notice that it was getting easier to breath.

I coughed and checked on Peeta, concerned how paled he was though with how alert he looked I was still hopeful.

The jostling stopped and soon it was a smooth ride. Though not a comfortable one as Megatron gazed at all of us within the tank.

I did my best to meet his gaze fearlessly, my eyes flickering to the scared Carrier tributes still in his hands. The squirmed and cried, terrified to be in the hands of a titan who could easily squish them.

The one-sided stare off was broken by Rodimus hysterical laughter “We did it! We did it”! the bot practically leaped from his seat to fist pump the air “We saved the humans and showed those higher cassette up”

“Yes” Magnus said in a tired voice “With 23 anxious young humans and 1 injured tribute in our care”

“Well, we can figure it out” said Rodimus jovially “Doesn't this prove we can do anything”? 

“Rodimus-” started Magnus 

“Oh, we need to get ready to dock”!

The way Magnus sighed you would think he was a  tired parent to a rambunctious child and not the crew member following his captain.

There was another shudder and soon a bright light entered the hall we had come from, soon Rodimus left his seat to the tank we were in.

He was all smiles as he began to roll the very platform our tank was on towards the entrance.

“Your safe now, your safe” he kept murmuring.

I wondered if it was more for his assurance then for our sakes.

The light at the end of the hall was blinding but when we emerged from it a roar of cheers followed.

“WE'RE BACK”! yelled Rodimus

As my eyes adjusted to the light I could see we were in a large hangar of some sort and inside it a group of Transformers stood, bots of versions colors and sizes all whooped and hollered in congratulations to Rodimus and his group.

Once we got closer several of them surged forward.

“You actually got them”? said one with sharp helmet a grey face and red marking around his eyes.

“Ha! I wish I could have seen the faceplate of those Capital jerks when you burst in there” said one bot who only had a single yellow glass eye that made up his greenish blue helm.

“Are these humans”? one small white and blue bot asked as they struggled to look at them from the height of our platform “They're so cute”!

A purple Transformers with a narrow face and red eyes leaned forward “One of thems injured”

“Scrap”! Rodimus said “Ratchet?! Where's Ratchet”?

“I'm here”! called a gruff voice, a red and white mech pushed through the crowd “What happened”?

“Um, we ran into some complications” said Rodimus gesturing to Peeta “Can you help him”?

“A human patient” the robot frowned “I can try, but I can't promise I'll be as much use given how long it's been and what supplies I have ir should I say don't have”

“Haha, he just being modest” Rodimus said nervously looking at Katniss “But he'll be in safe servos” 

That obviously didn't assure me and both bots could tell as I held Peeta close to me.

The one called Ratchet came forward before lowering his hand into the tank, tributes did scramble back till it was only me and Peeta before the metal hand that was as big as a storage door.

“I see your worried for your friend, I understand” he said “ But I need to take a  look at him, it's the best way to ensure his wound is properly treated”

“Your not a human” I found myself saying “You don't know what your doing”

“This isn’t my first time with an injured human, it's just been some time and I don't exactly have what I need….” He stopped before saying “He looks like aid was administered, was this your work”?

I nodded but admitted “I had some help”

Ratchet hummed and nodded before nudging his hand more instantly towards me “You can come along, perhaps you could help me treat him”

I gulped looking between him, the hand, and a grimacing Peeta. Then finally helped push Peeta onto the outstretched hand before placing myself onto the cold metal of the palm. I braced myself as once again lifted by a metal giant.

Ratchet began to quickly walk away with us, but I could still hear Rodimus speaking.

“Megatron make sure you keep those tributes separated” he instructed curtly, obviously talking about the Carrier group.

His voice became more lighter as he said “As for the rest of you, I want to welcome you all to the Lost Light”!!!!

[anodesu]

More Swordtember! I forgot to upload! Again: these are two hour paintings.

Day 6: Smoke Parchment was forged from loss. It was countless letters from loved ones lost in war. At sea. It was a concentrated, burning pain so hot that it frequently ate away at itself. A wound from it hurt like nothing else.

Day 7-8: Sun and Moon

Prominence and Totality: Celestial sister swords.

Day 9: Ocean

Shipwrecker. There was nothing as cold, as biting, as callously cruel as the water he had sailed on… drowned in. He could not help but pay tribute to his perfect killer.

Day 10: Ceremony/Ritual Moon Eater. Tales from ages ago spoke of times where the full moon would vanish. Scholars today argue it was simply cloud cover, or maybe an eclipse. Tangentially, the rules for pulling this sword have long since been forgotten.