#maybe they pull him out of prison to make him a warrior again

[arliedraws]

ooooohhh who do you like/ship in macbeth? 👀

Omg a MACBETH ask!!!

Umm...I would ship Macbeth with a LOT of characters. I really, REALLY like when Macbeth is a young man and Lady Macbeth is at least a decade older, so that's my top ship right there. The Mommy thing is...so fucking delicious. Big murderous warrior asking Mommy to please fuck him? Trying to convince her he's a big strong man???? Lady Macbeth taking care of her boy????

Then Macbeth/Banquo--very into the best friends things lately, but I like that this is much more toxic than my usual. I like the idea that when Banquo had a son, Macbeth was...jealous of the attention Fleance received from Banquo. Also, having your ex-lover murdered because you believe he's the better man and you think he's going to take your throne? The only thing is that I wish Macbeth had been the one to kill Banquo, but oh well.

Also, Macbeth/Malcolm. Older man/younger man. Macbeth is physically stronger and aggressive while Malcolm is young and manipulative? Yeah, feed me.

You'd think with my love of enemies-to-lovers that I'd like Macbeth/Macduff, but I honestly think Macduff is sort of boring. Theoretically, it's hot, but it doesn't actually get me going. I could ruminate on this and get myself there eventually though.

Also Macbeth probably fucked (got fucked by???) the witches? And liked it?

[legendofmorons]

Meetings (Fierce)

Pairing: Fierce x reader

Rating: G

Summary: You don the mask only for it to be ripped away mid battle. The boys are able to save you but the mask is broken. Fierce tries to check on you to varying success rates.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, nothing too bad

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

-------

Fierce has known about you since the first night you joined his host. He knows you see Time as family - but oh, Fierce thinks of you as an angel on earth. Perhaps a deity yourself.

You are unlike any of the boys. Unlike anyone he's ever met.

Your hands take his mask prison, gentle with new calloused forming. You're crying as you raise the mask to your face.

(Y/n)!" Time calls, "You don't have to-"

"I do." You say, pressing the mask to your face.

You scream - Fierce wishes it wasn't such a shock to gain his power. That it didn't hurt everyone who does this.

Hello, dear one. Let me help.

Your own thoughts greet him, 'Please just help. I need to protect them.'

I'll help you.

'Do you- really drive people mad?' You question, and it hurts him.

But he cannot lie to you.

When someone chooses unearned cruelty, I do.

And then you seem to relax. His power seeps into you, turning your eyes pure white and your hair turning to match.

He guides you, regretting every moment you might possibly be in danger.

He loses track of time.

The blood you shed under his helping hand is a sin.

One he will bear proudly as long as you make it out.

He hears your scream as something pulls his mask off of you against both your will and his.

It all goes black.

He is still attached to you, jist enough to feel you still fight. To hear someone call your name- his host.

He can feel from Time that you are safe. See out of Time's second open eye. Something is very wrong- but you and the others are safe...

Good.

.......

You are curled into the cloak Time set around your shoulders, the older man more than a little worried for you.

Warriors sits on your left, allowing you to lean against him as your body recovers.

"I'm so sorry. I should have -" You start an unneeded apology again.

"You did everything right. I've never had the mask ripped from me mid use- you protected us all. Long enough for us to heal and save you." Time says firmly.

"But I lost the-"

"We'll get it back. Right now, our concern is you." Time reassures, "Please. You need to rest."

You are too tired to really argue. Too far gone from the fight and the sudden ripping of the mask.

You feel a presence, tensing. It's strong, almost intimidating.

"Guys-"

The boys are already moving, swords drawn as they're push to their feet.

Warriors and Wild stand in front of and behind you, keeping your exhausted form safe.

From the tree line, a large Hylian figure holding what looks to be two halves of a mask emerges.

He's tall- insanely tall. Like, eight foot tall.

His hair is white.

His eyes - even from thirty feet away are unnaturally snow colored.

His face is covered in markings - the markings of f the mask you'd just used.

"Hello, young one." The man says, his voice like rolling thunder.

"You're free." Time says, sounding genuinely surprised.

"I am."

"Who-" you start, but you already know. This is the fierce deity.

"How?" Warriors asks, his own experience with the mask harrowing for him. More from the necessity than the deity himself.

"The mask broke. Where are they?"

"Where is who, Fierce?" Time asks, moving between the deity and the group.

"(Y/n). Never before has the mask been so suddenly ripped off during combat. Are-... Do you think I would harm you, Link?"

The deity sounds curious. Maybe just a little hurt. His gaze is stoney, but he dosen’t seem like he's itching for a fight either.

Time stares at him, "You're free for the first time in years. I don't know what you'll do."

"I would never hurt you. You are mine. My young hero."

"I'm not so young these days."

"No, I suppose not. You go by Time now, yes?"

"I do."

"Time, I do not wish to cause harm. "

Time seems weary, but he nods slowly as he takes one large side step so Fierce can survey the group.

Weapons are still clutched.

Wild and Warriors still flank you on either side, almost daring the deity to try to attack.

"(Y/n)." Fierce says, his eyes drawn to you, "are you hurt?"

"No... Hyrule helped me."

"Were you hurt then?"

"Some."

Fierce moves slowly, caution as he walks to you. Stopping a few inches away.

He reaches, gently, to touch your face. The back of his knuckles rest on your cheek as he stares at you.

"I truly apologize. For any harm I caused to you."

"I'd be worse off. Thanks for helping me."

"You, my dear one, I will always help."

Warriors blinks, confused, surprised, and a little disturbed.

You stare wide-eyed at the man before you, something about a war deity being so gentle is sweet. You're not sure you deserve it... but you appreciate it a lot.

"Thank you."

"They need to sleep still." Time says, "Ypu know what your mask does to people- did. What it did."

Fierce simply nods, "You had all better rest. I will keep watch as you sleep."

"I don't-" Warriors starts only for you to cut him off.

"Thank you. We do all need the rest." You say with a soft smile.

"Then you shoukd rest. I will keep you safe until you all are naturally rested."

[dont-go-where-i-cantfollow]

ok, but what about some bagginshield?

When the dwarves were captured, Bilbo was not able to remain composed. Would they be harmed? Would they be mistreated? Would their weapons be left or taken so that the prisoners couldn’t even think of escape? And what if someone is hurt and needs urgent help? Bilbo had no idea how elves treated their prisoners, but he was sure that nobody in his company wanted to experience it. 

A group of armed dwarves, led by their king, imprisoned in an elven dungeon and awaiting judgment, isn’t it just wonderful? Warring races always try to put a spoke in one another’s wheel, and when a bunch of armed shorties falls into the hands of the forest elves, it is naive to believe they will be released without a proper investigation. They are not in RIvendell, there are no friendly elves. There are only forest keepers fighting anyone who dares to disturb their peace. 

Bilbo uses his ring once again, becoming completely invisible to the guards. He is aware of how sharp all the elves’ senses are, but he crosses his fingers and tiptoes past two guardians who are cracking jokes and laughing out loud. He is almost caught by a tall elf in white clothes (is he someone important? or maybe he’s even an elven prince? the hobbit does not know him and he is not particularly interested in making acquaintances with anyone right now), who is reprimanding one of the female warriors accompanying the dwarves before. Bilbo has no idea what they are talking about, but he is ready to swear that they are not discussing anything good. 

The keys are stolen (The hobbit starts to understand what the dwarves were talking about; he really is a skilled burglar), and Bilbo makes his way to the prison cells. He hears how dwarves are getting angry, discussing how they would punish all these nasty forest creatures for imprisoning them, and he can finally take off his ring. Asking his companions to remain quiet, so as not to be noticed, he takes the keys out of his pocket and pushes them through the bars. Some of the dwarves are sitting here together, some alone, but all of them are jumping on their feet and trying to exit the cells as quickly as possible. 

When Bilbo approaches Thorin’s cell, he doesn’t even have time to greet the dwarf king. He is pulled by the sleeve so that his face fits neatly between the bars, and he is kissed as if he has just returned from an incredibly long journey. Thorin is holding him by his hand, his other hand touching the soft spot where the neck meets the skull, and the hobbit has no choice but to surrender. He exhales into the kiss, closing his eyes, and relaxes for a few seconds, feeling the warm waves of shivers coming down the spine. 

He was worried about all the dwarves who were traveling with him, but especially about their king. He was afraid that, because of his status, Thorin would be treated differently, forced to talk about their journey, or even tortured, but no. Here he is, standing in front of Bilbo, with leaves in his hair, and trying to squeeze the living hell out of him. He was afraid, too, Bilbo thinks, but he will never admit it; he is too proud to be caught caring for this little hobbit with sticky hands. 

They break the kiss and Thorin looks at his hobbit as if he has grown a tail in these few hours they were separated. There’s no tail, his ears and feet are the same size they were before, but the dwarf king looks at Bilbo with such attention and even… worry? Of course, he will never say this out loud, but this troubled look on his face speaks louder than words, and so does this sparkle in his eyes, similar to the one occurring right before you start crying.

‘’Thorin, let me open the door please, and then we can hug properly.’’

‘’Finally, you stole something worthy! Well done, little burglar!’’ Thorin steps aside and waits for Bilbo to deal with the lock. Before this adventure, Bilbo would have taken offense at such words, but now? Right now he understands that the moment the door is open, he will be enveloped in a hug so tight, he will hear his bones crack. Thorin can’t show his emotions properly, but the hobbit doesn’t ask him to do so: he knows what the dwarven king feels; he couldn’t doubt him even if he tried. 

Tonight, when they manage to get some rest, Thorin will hold him in his arms, cover his face in many kisses, and whisper about how he prayed for his hobbit to be safe while they were imprisoned; but for now, there is a battle awaiting them, and Bilbo hopes that his companions are ready to fight. 

[antianakin]

I find it interesting seeing arguments about how of the three main people in relationships with Anakin, Ahsoka is the most "normal" about him. I'd actually argue that Ahsoka is not the most normal about Anakin, Obi-Wan is.

Obi-Wan is the only one who can remember Anakin as he was without denying who he's become. While I don't blame Ahsoka for simply... not knowing what happened to Anakin post Order 66, once she feels his presence in Rebels, she spends an entire year trying to find evidence that will refute what she already effectively knows. And when she finally faces him, the moment Anakin gives her a reason to believe it's NOT him, she takes it and decides it's true. Obi-Wan really isn't given a lot of time to sit in this place because he's shown the hologram of Anakin pretty quickly, but there's no attempt by Obi-Wan to try to excuse what Anakin's done, to try to tell Yoda that maybe Anakin was brainwashed or the security recording was tampered with. He accepts that Anakin's betrayed them fairly quickly in a way Ahsoka appears to struggle more with.

Ahsoka also is appearing to have trouble ten years down the line remembering Anakin without fear and anger. When dealing with Grogu and his own issues with fear and anger, Ahsoka refuses to have anything to do with him and just passes off the responsibility onto someone else specifically because he reminds her too much of Anakin. She no longer believes Grogu could EVER become a good Jedi because she knows what Anakin became. She can't remember Anakin positively now that she can't deny what he became, the things he did. Contrast that with the way Obi-Wan "separates" Anakin and Vader when speaking to Luke. He doesn't deny what Anakin's done because he says it pretty plainly when explaining it to Luke, that Anakin betrayed and hunted down the Jedi to the point of near extinction. But he can also extol some of his virtues, that he was a good warrior and a good pilot and is even capable of calling him a good friend. He can remember Anakin fondly without denying what Anakin has become and the things he's done. Anakin WAS a good friend, but he IS a traitor and an enemy.

Obi-Wan is the only one who can walk away. Obi-Wan may not land a killing blow on Mustafar, but he refuses to help Anakin and definitely leaves him to die. His choice to let Anakin live on the moon near Jabiim isn't about being unable to kill Anakin for Anakin's sake, but for his own. It would destroy Obi-Wan and require a sacrifice Obi-Wan is unwilling to give in order to kill Anakin. Obi-Wan would have to give in to anger and grief and pain to do it, which would mean making the same mistakes Anakin did. Obi-Wan's not capable of holding Anakin prisoner or giving him a trial, but he's unwilling to simply murder Anakin when he's defeated and incapable of truly defending himself either. Obi-Wan refuses to let himself become what Anakin's become.

Ahsoka refuses to walk away. Once she gets that confirmation that Vader is Anakin, she abandons Kanan and Ezra in order to never leave Anakin again because she's so caught up in her own guilt over the possibility that her leaving the Order may have led to Anakin's fate. She can't walk away. She can't save him, and the knowledge that she can't save him destroys her. She doesn't want to face or accept that she can't save him, so she stays in the Sith battlestation with Anakin, presumably hoping that she can kill 3 birds with 1 stone here: the battlestation gets destroyed, Anakin goes down with it, and she can die with him. At the very least if she dies and Anakin survives, she can die knowing she didn't abandon him again. Ahsoka cannot walk away, for herself or anyone else. Not initially, at least. Not until she gets literally pulled out of time by Ezra and forced to see him confront his own attachments.

Ahsoka is unwilling to hurt or kill Anakin once she knows it's him. Her angry declaration of "I will avenge his death" comes when she can still pretend Vader isn't Anakin, her cutting the mask off only happens before she gets the confirmation that he IS Anakin. The moment she gets it, the moment she can no longer pretend, she's pretty solidly on defense and nothing else and then she does one kamikaze move where she literally kneels in front of Anakin and theoretically is going to allow him to strike her down. She blames herself for what's happened to him and so can't truly fight him any more than she can walk away from him.

Ahsoka is so consumed by her relationship with Anakin and her inability to comprehend and accept that the Master she loved and the nightmare he became are the same person keeps her from being able to truly move on, even ten years down the line from discovering his betrayal. She's not the LEAST normal about him, that distinction I think will always likely have to be Padme's, but she's also not the MOST normal about him because Ahsoka's relationship to him was always based on lies, and seen through a child's rose colored lenses.

Obi-Wan raised Anakin, he understands Anakin's flaws, he knows Anakin can be arrogant and reckless and overconfident, he knows where that comes from in Anakin's past. He CHOOSES to have faith in Anakin, he CHOOSES to see the best in him and believe that Anakin can overcome his struggles. It's not an inability to see the truth about Anakin so much as it is an active choice to let Anakin have the space to make mistakes and a belief that even when Anakin stumbles, he'll get back up and find his balance again. It's also just a lack of information about how hard Anakin's stumbled to some degree.

Ahsoka doesn't have that foundation, she's a child with a Master she looks up to as a hero and someone she wants SO BADLY to emulate and impress. She CAN'T view him normally because she never truly gets the chance to evolve their relationship into something more equal, so when the truth of Anakin finally becomes known to her, it collides pretty hard with that childish rose colored version that exists in her memories. She doesn't truly have a way to combine the two versions of Anakin into a way that makes sense to her the way Obi-Wan is capable of doing. Which sucks for her because it leaves her in a limbo, unable to move on and unable to go back.

[catsandgoodbooks]

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you’d never leave.”

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

Technoblade sighed, rubbing his forehead, and stepped towards the door. He was tired and still fighting the soul-crushing exhaustion of the ender guardians and really really worried. Yeah, sure, he got Dream out of the prison (which was supposed to be inescapable, so Techno thought he should get a little pat on the back for that), but he still remembered the state that he found Dream in and couldn’t brush off the fact that Dream, previously gently placed on the bed behind Techno, was still unconscious.

Techno wanted to…Techno wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. To be honest, he wanted to take a nap, but he knew he didn’t have anywhere close to the necessary time for that. He still had to talk to Phil (because he told Philza that he’d break Dream out sometime, but didn’t tell him that it would be today, and because he’d tried really hard to make the prison break a one-person job, which he pretty much succeeded in), figure out what to do about the server inevitably coming after him because he did not want to wake up to an unexpected mob of people on his doorstep, take inventory, get Chat to stop yelling at him…Look, it was a lot okay? Jailbreaks are usually very stressful for everyone involved.

Techno was about to open the door and leave when he heard a soft “Techno?”, so quiet he thought he must be imagining it, behind him. He still froze and glanced back, and, sure enough, he was met with wide, scared green eyes peeking out from underneath a pile of blankets.

“Dream? You’re awake?” Technoblade asked, trying to be subtle about his step forward, towards Dream.

Dream nodded quickly, his eyes still blown open and terrified. Ah fu–nope, he was trying to stay monetized here. He hadn’t wanted to scare Dream.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Techno tried. Prime, he wasn’t good at this. He was a warrior, not a therapist, but he’d have to be both now. “I’m not goin’ hurt you.”

“Yeah?” Dream whispered, his eyes still locked on Technoblade. His fingers, poking out of the pile slightly and gripping the blankets shakily, pulled the fabric closer around him.

“Of course, Dream. Can I come closer?” Techno asked.

Dream nodded again, and Techno stepped a little closer, and then a little closer. He sat down on the bed beside Dream, making sure not to squish him by accident.

“You don’t gotta worry about that, Dream. I’m not goin’ hurt you, and I’m goin’ make sure no one else gets the chance to,” he told Dream.

Dream blinked up at him. “You are?”

“Was that ever in question?” Techno asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah?” Dream’s eyes drifted away from him and onto the floor.

“Wait, really?” Okay, maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe it really wasn’t. Maybe he should disengage from the conversation and talk about something else. But he wanted to know, even though he knew it would just hurt the both of them.

Dream’s grip tightened, and he pointedly didn’t look at Techno. “When…when we were in the cell. When you sometimes were…not myself.” Technoblade had almost forgotten about that, had tried to block out those memories, of the times when Chat got too loud and he lost control. He knew what was coming next. “Sometimes…you would hurt me.”

Dream immediately started babbling again when Techno gave no response, hastily twisting to face him. “Not often! Not often! It didn’t happen often, and you didn’t want to do it, and…and we both knew that! And it was fine!”

“It wasn’t fine,” Techno refuted. “It wasn’t okay, Dream. I’m…I’m sorry, I…I wish you didn’t have to go through that, but it still wasn’t, and isn’t, okay.”

“I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean to make you upset,” Dream whispered. He still wouldn’t look Techno in the eye.

“No, it’s fine, Dream. Don’t apologize. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t of brought it up,” Techno told him (or maybe he was just telling himself that, apologizing to his consciousness instead of the person he had actually hurt). “If it helps at all, it won't happen again. You’re out now. We both are.”

“I thought you weren’t going to,” Dream murmured, eyes downcast, glued to the floor. Techno could barely hear him.

“What?”

“I thought you weren’t going to break me out,” Dream repeated, a little louder this time but no less ashamed.

“Why? I promised–”

Dream nodded. “You promised, but then you left…and you’d promised that you’d never leave.” He curled in on himself, and Techno couldn’t stop himself from selfishly, selfishly wondering what had happened to the old Dream, Techno’s rival, the acrobat and daredevil, the one not afraid of anything, the one with a wheezing tea kettle laugh? Technoblade thought he knew, but he didn’t want to accept that. “You said you would never leave.”

[hello-nichya-here]

(Got some Zucest inspo so I'll send more than one asks)

One day, Azula was being a huge pain in the ass. A brat beyond the limits of Zuko's patience. He hadn't slept well and reached his limits before Azula expected him to. She was undermining his authority during a meeting, do he pulled her over his lap right there and then and spanked her hard, which got her going, which was very humiliating, which got her going even more. And then he also made her just sit in her chair and wait until the end of the meeting for him to make her cum, so she just sat there, horny, frustrated and humiliated for at least half an hour

Ooooohhhhhh, I like that. I can perfectly picture Azula's outraged/shocked face because how dare Zuko do this to her in public? And it making her all horny just makes it even worse, because now everyone knows that's what she likes. Damn him.

The other people in the meeting will probably just be frozen in place, trying to process what's going on, while their brains are also REFUSING to accept that, yes, what they're seeing is very real.

Zuko will probably be blushing a bit when he finally calms down. Sure, seeing Azula all turned on and humiliated was hot, and she looked so cute when she was all pouty that he made her wait until the meeting was over to get what she wanted.

But now he is lowkey embarrassed that he exposed something so private as what they like in bed to an entire group of horrified people, and that EVERYONE now knows he's a kinky bastard. He is also worried that maybe Azula felt humiliated and disrespected in in a not at all fun way.

So, at night, he apologizes for what he did and promises he'll never do anything simmilar. Azula tells him not worry about it, and that all is forgiven.

Then, of course, in the next meeting, Azula just kneels before Zuko and starts trying to give him a blowjob in front of everyone, which freaks him out. He tries to talk her out of it, but she just says that he owes her this after what happened last time AND that he shouldn't complain since she is pleasing him and won't make him wait for his release. He can't argue with that logic, nor does he really want to, because of course he feels like the most powerful man in the whole world having Azula wanting to do that for him.

After that, there's not a single meeting in which Azula isn't at least sitting on his lap, the two of them being super clingy and ocasionally feeling each other up.

The more shameless they are, the more likely it is that the meeting is about some excellent news, so everyone else tolerates their degeneracy.

The ONE time they were not even holding hands, everyone else was scared to death, wondering what kind of horrible news they'd hear - Ozai had escaped prison and regained his bending? They wanted to start the war again? The Avatar died? Some rebel group was threatening their reign? Were just going to kill everyone in that room for their own amusement?

Turns out, no, it was just a regular day, but they had a petty fight a few hours earlier and were giving each other the silent treatment because, despite being warriors and rulers of a whole nation, sometimes they can't help but act like bratty 5-year-olds,

[kleyamarki]

who needs authorization?

Pairings & characters: Leia Organa & Hera Syndulla, Mon Mothma (mentioned), Jacen Syndulla (mentioned), Hamato Xiono (mentioned)

Category: Gen

Other tags: Hera Syndulla is So Done, Leia Organa is So Done, Missing Scene, Pre-Episode: s01e05 Part Five: Shadow Warrior (Star Wars: Ahsoka TV)

Notes: I’ve been in “Senator Organa says she can only give us cover for so long,” brainrot for a full 24 hours. This is the result. Enjoy <3

Summary: General Syndulla and Senator Organa make a deal — for Ezra.

AO3 Link

“Leia, you should’ve seen her face,” Hera paced around her office on Home One, her holoprojection coming in and out of frame.

The senator was in her own office on Chandrila.

“Okay,” she said, “Tell me again, from the top.” Leia believed everything Hera had already told her, but she wanted to hear the story again to come up with some kind of plan.

“We were attacked by Imperial loyalists on Corellia working for Morgan Elsbeth,” Hera began.

Leia pulled up her file on Elsbeth, “The Navy woman?” She broke in, skimming over the file quickly.

“Yes,” Hera nodded, “She was arrested not too long ago as an Imperial sympathizer, but broke out of the prison ship she was detained on.”

“Got it,” Leia said simply, “Go on.”

“The senators on the call with the chancellor so graciously reminded me that there are former Imperials working all throughout the New Republic government,” Hera continued, “And that Imperial remnants don’t pose a threat anymore,” she shook her head as if in disbelief.

“But with Elsbeth’s connection to Thrawn…” Leia trailed off, still thinking.

“If she’s able to contact him or find him, those Imperial remnants suddenly have a leader — and a really good one, at that,” Hera finished for her.

The possibility of renewed Imperial remnants being able to come together made Leia’s stomach turn. Part of her couldn’t believe Chancellor Mothma allowed Hera to get walked over by senators who obviously knew nothing, who had the luxury of waiting out the war to see who came out on top of it. She’d grown up around the Imperial senate, she knew that compromise and at least trying to hear each other was key. But Hera said it herself: “long live the Empire” was not the loyalty they were looking for.

“Mon,” Hera gave a dark chuckle, “She looked uneasy, afraid, maybe, but wouldn’t stand up for me, or for Ezra,” she was pacing again, “So much for him being a hero to the New Republic, right?” Hera stopped and looked to Leia, hurt in her eyes.

Leia swallowed. She worked with a lot of people during the Rebellion, and she vowed a long time ago that if any of them needed a favor, she’d do it, minimal questions asked (or no questions, outside of natural curiosity). She’d already cashed in favors for Hera, and she’d become a friend, which afforded her many more. But for Ezra, this could be as close as she was able to get.

Leia sighed, “I’m guessing you didn’t get authorization to pursue the matter further, then?” She felt silly for even asking.

“After discussing with the senators, she told me no,” Hera said bitterly, “I don’t have authorization to leave Home One, let alone to go to the Denab system, where Elsbeth is heading.”

“Even though at the shipyard they said ‘long live the Empire?’” Leia could still hardly believe that fact, “And Mon was visibly shaken up by the mention of Thrawn?” It was even more of a shock to her that Mon Mothma would back down at even a shadow of Imperial loyalty.

Hera just nodded.

“I can’t just sit back and do nothing, Leia,” she said quietly after a long moment.

“How can I help?” Leia asked, for Hera and for Ezra.

Relief flooded Hera’s face, obvious even in holoprojection form, “I need you to keep the chancellor and those senators occupied, especially Xiono.”

Leia rolled her eyes at the mere mention of Xiono — Mon she could handle, but pure idiots like him got on her last nerve. But it was an easy enough task, “You got it, General,” she replied, “What about Home One?”

Hera grinned, “These are my people, Senator, I’m sure they can come up with something.”

There was the Hera that Leia knew and loved.

“Safe travels to the Denab system, General,” Leia smiled, “and tell Jacen hello for me.”

“Thank you, Leia,” Hera was sincere, “and good luck to you, especially with Xiono.” The holocall ended, Hera’s grinning projection blinking off.

Leia took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders back. It was show time.

[gisenne-flameheart]

Flame, Encased in Crystal

Here is the first short piece written by the amazing Shio @the-littlest-kojin after we discussed and shared our ideas. Shio then wrote more for me. All Shio's work can be found under the tag #shio's writing

Striding up the mountain, Gisenne hangs up the linkpearl, Y’shtola’s warnings still ringing in her ears. Cresting the path, crowned with gleaming giantsgall crystals, she slows to a stop - a crimson-cloaked figure floating in the air above her.

On-guard, she slowly approaches - only to freeze in shock as a familiar voice meets her ears.

“Such an exquisite sight,” the voice says - so warm, so safe, like comfort, like home - “A canvas of vibrant colours. As was our world too, once.”

For long seconds, the only sound is that of the wind, and the rustling of the voidsent’s cloak. The Warrior of Light, working on reflex, reaches into her robes to grasp her soul crystal - the proof of her pact with a fire-voiced fiend, her confidant, her ally.

“...Are you the one who destroyed the treasure vault?” she asks, barely above a whisper.

Turning to look at her, holding his cloak across his body, the monster’s gaze is piercing as he examines her.

“I am. Rubicante, the archfiend of fire.”

There is a long pause as he continues to examine her - or maybe she just imagines one. Her heart is thundering in her ears, as each word makes it harder and harder to ignore that she knows that voice.

“A monster in flesh, yet in spirit I remain a man - a prisoner of the past,” he continues - his voice soft, and deep.

His gaze turns to the side, sadness filling his tone.

“Such tears I wept when Darkness consumed the world. Until Lord Golbez came, and spoke of salvation. Thus do I walk proudly at his side, to see his dream fulfilled.”

His gaze returns to her, piercing and weighing her. “Your heart is pure. For benevolent cause, you seek the dragon.”

“...As is yours,” she cuts in, her voice equally soft. “I know you, Rubicante. I have heard your conviction. Your cause is as pure as mine.”

Lowering himself to the ground, clawed feet landing upon the grass, he stands over her. Looking down at her, the wind snapping his cloak, his eyes fill with sorrow.

“We knew we were going to come to cross-purposes. This was always a danger.”

“I know,” she responds. “But I need to stop your Lord Golbez.”

“And I cannot let you. If you would continue, there is but one recourse.”

Sadly, she nods. Grasping the stone, she pulls it from her robe, gazing at the black crystal - shot through, she realises, with hair-fine tracery of crimson red - red like the cloak in front of her. Raising her eyes to look at the fiend, she nods down at the crystal questioningly, and raises an eyebrow.

“The pact will function,” he tells her, solemn. “I will honour our deal - give you power, even to this end. You have not betrayed your cause.”

Stowing the crystal again, she nods, drawing a shaky breath. “I am sorry that it has come to this.”

A sigh escapes the voidsent’s lips - the air from it warm, washing over her like a summer breeze. “As am I. I shall await you at the summit - come, and weigh your cause against mine.”

Without a further word, he turns into a flash of flame, and is gone - up, towards the very summit of Khadga.

-

Standing on the stone platform, the Elezen draws her scythe - holding it in the ready stance as she taps upon the power of her Avatar - the Pact with the voidsent standing in front of her.

Looking down at her, he smiles, drawing himself up in turn - drawing, she knows, on the wellspring of aether she has fed him.

“You stayed the course,” he pronounces, as flames start to swirl. “As I knew you would. As too will I! Come!”

Without a word, Gisenne leaps into battle - blinking back tears as she swings her scythe.

-

As the fiend falls to one knee, he laughs. “To defeat all of us archfiends… You are strong indeed.”

Reaching out one hand, warm fire blossoms from his fingertips - washing over Gisenne’s wounded, exhausted body. Unafraid, she steps into the flame, trusting the voice that has been at her side for so long. Behind her, running up the path, she can hear Zero’s shocked cry, and she holds one hand out, gesturing for the half-voidsent to wait.

Flames, crimson and gold, envelop her form, enshrouding her, encircling her - and when they dissipate, she is rejuvenated. Her wounds healed, her exhaustion burned away, her body mended.

“Zero,” she murmurs, solemn.

“Yes?”

“Please… Crystallise him.”

A look of bafflement on her face and Rubicante’s both, the black-clad woman limbers her scythe, gathering aether about the blade.

“Why?” Rubicante asks. “Why preserve my existence? I have been a persistent thorn in your side.”

Stepping forward, the Elezen raises one hand, resting it on his jaw - ignoring the near-burning temperature of his skin to give him this measure of comfort. “Because, you have also been my friend, my aid, my confidant. And I do not wish to lose you.”

Closing his eyes, the archfiend laughs. It is not a kind laugh - self-mockery and self-deprecation echoing from the crystalline surrounds.

“You,” he finally concludes, “have an odd definition of ‘friend’. And to do this would be to put myself yet further from my goal - a true death.”

Nodding, Gisenne looks up at him. Her gaze is heavy as she weighs her options, and his words. Finally, she speaks, her voice halting and quiet.

“...I would be most saddened to be deprived of your counsel - and our pact. If you truly wish to die, instead of be crystallised, I will not stop you - I could form a new pact. But your soul and mine… They are akin. They resonate. Surely you have noticed such?”

“...I have,” he murmurs. “And your cause is worthy, it is true. You truly value my counsel over that of any other?”

“I do. I trust your words - they are warm. And we resonate. Our souls… We are on the same wavelength. Do you not feel it?”

“I… I confess, I do. And what kind of man would I be, if I deprived you of my power before your own heart is fulfilled, and your goals complete? You are the flame I spent so long trying to preserve, it seems. The sun is represented in you - my sun. I will keep you burning.”

Her mouth agape, the Reaper watches as the towering figure turns to the woman behind her, resolve in his eyes and steel in his voice.

“Memoriate - crystallise me. I will aid my sun as best I can from my lithified prison.”

Stepping aside, the Warrior of Light watches as the strange ally from the Thirteenth does her magicks - and catches the small shaft of crystal in her palm.

Its presence is warm - comforting. The aether swirling within is familiar, half the essence of her Avatar, ready to mingle with hers.

“Zero,” she calls out. “Do you think the alchemists at the Great Work would be able to make him a custom body, the way they do Vrtra?”

Her expression as unreadable as ever, the Memoriate strides over, looking down at the piece of stone, held clasped in Gisenne’s hands. “It is not impossible. But I do not know; you would have to ask them. Are you to go there next, then?”

Nodding, the Elezen turns on her heel. “We are. Could you please fill the Scions in on what happened here?”

“As you wish,” Zero murmurs, watching her fellow Reaper stride down the mountain - back held stiff and straight, the crystal clutched to her breast.

[wild-at-spark]

The convoy is silent for a good portion of the journey away from the M*A*S*H site, allowing everyone to hear the sounds of war around them rage on. The Decepticon’s haven’t faltered in their assault. Seekers fly around, circling like vultures, occasionally shooting off projectiles.

The convoy comes to a halt, jolting Wild out of her trance. Why have they stopped? What’s going on? A chorus of worried voices fills the transport vehicle, only to be interrupted by sounds of gunfire.

Clamp lets out anxious cry, burying her helm into her conjunx’s chest. Charge tries to comfort her but even Wild can see how terrified the larger femme is.

As the gunfire gets closer and closer to the transport vehicle, the staff desperately try to muffle their whimpers and cries. The same thought running through each of their helms.

We’re going to die.

It comes as no surprise when the transport doors are yanked open by a troop of Decepticons, guns armed and poised at the staff inside.

“Bring them to me.” A familiar voice orders.

The Decepticons waste no time, grabbing at Wild’s staff members before dragging and throwing them out the vehicle. The small femme follows them; trying to help her staff up to their pedes, only to phase straight through those wants to help. Right.. it’s only a memory.

“Look what we have here.” The familiar voice comes once again.

The staff look around for the origin of the voice, only for each and every one of them to wear the same shocked look on their faceplates. “Flatline?!” They call out in unison, which only earns them a cackle of laughter from the red and black mech.

“But you’re supposed to be-“ Bunsen calls out.

“Dead?” Flatline interrupts. “That’s what you thought.” Flatline glances over all of them, waving a servo around. “Restrain them.”

The Decepticons once again follow his command, grabbing a hold of the nearest members of staff. Several Decepticons latch onto Paxafere in an effort to restrain the large mech. “Why are you doing this! What do you want?” Charge yells, trying to fight back the con restraining and pulling her away from Clamp. “Striker, make him kneel.” Flatline points to Paxafere. The Decepticon warrior moves behind the large nurse, kicking him in the back of his calves. The nurse refuses to cry out as he falls to his knees, biting his bottom lipplate as he glares at Flatline. He will not cry, he will not give Flatline that satisfaction.

Wild can barely watch, turning her helm away. They suffered because of her. Maybe if she had of been with them she could have at least protected them, instead they got imprisoned because of her. The medic has to force herself to watch. She needs to know where they got imprisoned.  Putting on a brave face Wild turns her attention back to Flatline.

“If you really must know I barely managed to escape the clinic as it fell. I ended up being found by the Decepticons. In order to survive I pledged my allegiance to them and here I am ever so loyal to their cause. Now tell me. Where’s that ring leader of yours? Where is Wild?”

“We don’t know! She told us to leave without her.” Clamp cries out.

“As if you would have left her behind.” The Decepticon medic huffs, turning his gaze to meet Paxafere’s optics. “Especially you.” He points. “Make him watch.” Another command to Striker.

Watch? What does he mean watch? Wild’s spark begins to race. That doesn’t sound good.

Striker grabs a hold of the pacifists bottom jaw, squeezing tightly as he forces Paxafere to look at his fellow medical staff.

Flatline grabs a hold of Clamp by her arm, dragging her to the centre of the circle of prisoners which is enough to break the femme and reduce her to a wailing mess. Charge fights at her stasis cuffs, trying desperately to break free and rescue her conjunx, yelling at anyone who will hear for Clamp to be left alone.

The bulky femme manages to elbow the mech holding her back temporarily freeing herself so she can launch herself over to Clamp.

Flatline finds it all so amusing and flashes a sadistic grin to Charge, aiming his blaster before firing it straight between the optics of the small pink nurse.  Charge screams out but is silenced with a shot of her own straight to the spark. Her lifeless frame falls forward, coming to rest beside Clamps dead body.

“Aw look, the love birds had to be together even in death how touching.” Flatline torments, earning him stifled cries from the rest of the staff.

Wild lets out her own agonised scream, lunging herself towards the deactivated frames of her colleagues. “NO!” She drops to her knees, looking over their frames, optics wide in fear. They can’t be dead, it’s a lie, it’s a trick! She doesn’t get time to react to the bullets being fired at Brass, Bunsen and Triage. The trio being executed quickly and efficiently.

The medic’s optics frost over and a cascade of snow crystals fall down her faceplats. Wild crawls over to their bodies, trying to pull them close to her, only for her servo’s to phase through. This cannot be the truth, this cannot be what happened.

They’re supposed to be alive!

“Not so mighty without her to protect you are you?” Flatline asks Paxafere.

Paxafere’s bright pink optics stay fixed on Flatline, ignoring the tears streaming down his faceplates. "Wild will make you pay for that." He growls.

::Flatline. Target has been secured, commencing transport back to base.:: Wild looks to Paxafere, desperately trying to wipe the frost and snow from her optics. “Primus please no..” She wails. Flatline smirks as he reaches into his subspace with one of his smaller arms, pulling out a large knife. “Looks like you are of no use to me after all.”  A swift slash to delivered to the neck of the helicopter severs the main fueline. Energon spurts out in rapid bursts rendering Paxafere choking on his own energon. The bright blue spatters the copter’s dark frame

“Paxafere!” Wild shrieks, clambering over to her amica just as his hefty frame slams to the ground.

“I’m so sorry.. Paxafere.. no.” She chokes out, watching as his once bright pink optics flicker offline. Wild doesn’t even pay attention to the Deceptions taking the medical convoy and leaving. Too busy desperately trying to hold the lifeless frame of her amica.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be. This is the truth? She was fed nothing but scraps of lies for 5 million years to keep her complacent!  The femme clutches at her chest, claws digging into her own frame. She lost everyone who meant anything to her and she didn’t even know it.

How could she not know?! How could she be so stupid?!

She gazes around at the deactivate frames of her staff, paying no attention to the blue glow taking over her frame. She should have been here. She should have kept them safe. They weren’t warriors they weren’t soldiers! Just people wanting to help others.

Wild lets out a primal screech, the blue glow shooting out into the surrounding area. In an instance the execution site is swallowed in a blizzard.

In an instance the world goes white.

[gliphyartfan]

MY BOY...God he is just so pretty. I love him so much. Twilight Princess was my first Zelda game and so he will always be my favorite. -He did pout about losing the wolf pelt but he has settled for fur-lined jackets that are well broken in.

-Does own cowboy boots, mainly cause the other fuckers boys keep just giving them to him.

-You can see the chest tattoo peeking out...I am soooo tempted to draw them all. Definitely one of the more heavily inked along with Legend and Wild.

-Had to have room to run around as Wolfie.

-I see him wanting and maybe owning a ranch? He needs a weekend away to ride Epona and be away from the city. (Our girl BETTER have come with our boy or we RIOT)...also gives him an escape with y/n when she gets close enough with them. He'd love to show her an escape from the stress of the city...and how wonderful life with him can be.

-His clothes are more durable than comfortable. He likes broken in clothes, especially good leather. -Just as charming as Warriors but in a more, good boy way. Definitely, boy next door vibes...no one expects the violence he is capable of when you come between him and his singular reason to exist. He loves his darling so much.

GAH I COULD TALK ABOUT HIM ALL DAY

Oooh, if that man approached me... huehuehue

First off yes, If Epona can traverse through the portal in canon, she can travel beyond dimensions! (The horses of the modern world WISH they could be a single percent as amazing as Epona!)

Chest tattoo? I wish to to pull the collar of hos shirt out...and see the full view... huehuehue

Ahem, I mean, from a creative standpoint, of course...

I feel that the main house the chain reside in is nice and large. Not because they wanna be extravagant, but those dungeon crawlers learned a thing or two about making a large building veeeery complex (with traps and runes and places to hide their prisoners...)

But they do have large spaces and most of them DO have their own little properties. So Twilight would have a ranch with many acres of land and Legend would have a set of warehouses and a huge library that only the rest of the chain have access to.

Four would have a private personal forge to create things. (Not to be confused with the main forge he uses to make the chain their weapons)

Time would have probably bough some property on the water for Wind (and made sure the sailor had a few old fashioned and modern boats so he can expand his skill)

I like how it looks like a punk but the moment someone would speak to him, it's like whiplash!

(When he dresses for 'business', ooooh he is as deadly as his blade. Then again they all have that trait)

If he manages to obtain something of hers that has her scent, he stays as Wolfie, basically just drilling her scent into his memory, so he could never forget it. (Even though he acts intoxicated if he does that for too long, but the others merely swipe away whatever he's latching to in order to snap him out of it. Even though they'll probably do the same thing when somewhere private)

Remember, this boys be cray-cray, but they are gentlemen! (Even if they have some crooked morals these days. But for their beloved, they can reign them in!)

A fantastic piece! I just wanna snatch his jacket, I bet it's nice and comfy!

Phenomenal work!

[beantothemax]

Therion was quiet but Olberic slept light. He was always on alert, even in his rest. The door clicked shut and the room was dark again. With a sigh, Olberic stood and threw on his coat and boots. It wasn't the first time Therion snuck off without warning.

His search was short lived as he found the thief half hidden by a bush near the water.

"Stupid Heathcote, didn't have to make it so tight," Therion... Cried?

Olberic approached him. Therion looked up and nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Oh, it's just you," he murmured.

"May I sit?" Olberic asked.

"Go ahead."

Therion knelt by the riverbank, both hands dipped in the water. His left hand was massaging his right wrist. A deep red line marked the spot where the fool's bangle was. It was just loose enough to move it a bit. The mark ached and itched every second it was there.

It was sad to see.

Olberic started, "Alfyn probably has some kind of herb that can help with-"

"It stops working after a day," Therion growled.

He watched as the thief desperately rubbed the mark on his wrist as tears trickled down his cheeks. It wasn't the first time the feeling of wearing that damned fool's bangle had made him act like this.

He had an odd sensitivity to things that were too tight. A shirt that no longer fit would be torn to shreds if he struggled to take it off and he refused to even enter caves if the ceiling was too low. Perhaps it was severe claustrophobia, or maybe an aversion to the feeling of being caught.

Olberic wanted to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him that he'd be okay, but such a thing would only anger Therion further. The fool's bangle was overwhelming enough, he didn't need another feeling ontop of it.

Eventually, the numbness of the cold water became worse than the ache from the fool's bangle. Therion pulled his hands from the water and dried them in his cape. He sighed as he leaned back on the thick bush. His tired eyes fell on Olberic.

"Are you gonna leave?" he asked.

But the warrior shook his head. He pulled something from his pocket and sat beside Therion. The thief moved some inches further from him. There always had to be just a bit of space between him and anyone else.

"During the war, I was kept as a prisoner of some time and I was handcuffed non stop for several weeks," he started, "they dug into my skin and left wounds."

Olberic rolled up his sleeves to show thin scars along his wrists that had long since healed. He doubted that Therion even glanced at them.

"I made a bracelet out of some old rags to put under the handcuffs and it helped with the soreness. Do you want to try that?" he asked.

Olberic showed him the fabric bracelet in his hand. It was likely only some millimeters thick, but it was several centimeters wide, meaning it'd cover his entire wrist.

"Sure, why not? I've got nothing to lose," Therion reached out his hand.

Olberic careful wrapped the bracelet around his wrist, making sure it didn't cut off his circulation. He placed the fool's bangle back over the bracelet and looked expectantly at the thief, "well?"

Therion carefully inspected the bracelet. It was tight, but in a different way from the handcuff. The fabric was soft, it was a nice change from the cold, hard band of shame.

"It's fine."

The warrior stood with a smile. He offered the thief his hand, which he accepted. The two of them returned to the inn. For once, Therion slept well. The feeling of steel on his wrist was gone, instead replaced by a kind gift.

AAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THIS SO SO SO MUCH !!!!!!!!!!

olberic and therion is not a dynamic I have given much thought before but now im officially invested in these two

olberic trying to give theri the space he needs… and… and his whole story about the handcuffs and the lil fabric………

GOD theri suffering because of how tight the bangle is hurts my heart. there is. probably some kind of deeper meaning you could read into a mark of shame causing physical pain to him but. regardless…

and the whole pet at the end!!!! theri taking olberic’s hand and actually getting a good night’s sleep for once!!!! and the last line!!!!!! it’s a reminder of a gift now!!!! aaaaaaa!!!!!!

[pathofmysins]

𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈’𝐦 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

I've tasted blood and it is sweet.

I've had the rug pulled beneath my feet.

I've trusted lies and trusted men.

Broke down and put myself back together again.

You couldn’t tell where the grey skies ended and the grey seas began. There was only the wind, sending shivers down my body as I was walking down the coast of southern California. Despite the wind and the freezing air, engulfing me in it’s clutches, it was somewhat peaceful. I loved storms, they resembled my personality, but even more I loved sitting on the beach during one. It was therapeutic, a way to calm the storm within my mind while watching one unfold before my eyes. Another wave of shivers runs down my spine and I throw that old, outworn leather jacket over my shoulders. It belonged to my dad, at least that’s what my mother told me. The jacket was all I had left of him now. We lived on the outskirts of town, but our house was located conveniently halfway between biker clubhouses and acted as a safe haven to a lot of the bikers who stopped at our house. When I was ten years old, I used to pop open beer bottles for them while my mother patched up their wounds and cooked them dinner. Sometimes she would let them crash for the night and that’s also how she became pregnant with me.

Once I make my way closer to the water, I sit down on the wet sand and inhale the salty peace while lighting up a cigarette. The ocean always felt more home to me than those four walls and a roof people call home could ever be, that’s why I always came here since the day I can remember. It was my escape, where I kept the record of the wreckage in my life. It was not a tragedy, it was just the sad reality.

My mother always blamed me for ruining her life, shattering her dreams of fame. Her wish was to be a famous singer and travel the world, but instead God gave her me. I was the daughter she never wanted, the mark of shame for eternity since she wasn’t even sure who was my daddy. There was a man who sticked around for a little bit though, he taught me how to ride a bike and how to hold a gun when I could barely even fit it in my hand. No, it wasn’t love, but it was the closest I ever got. Of course it didn’t last long and the dream soon turned into a nightmare.

“I’ll be back soon, kid. Make me proud.” Those were the last words he ever said to me before placing a kiss on my forehead and walking out through the doors to ride off into the sunset. Twenty something years later and I still haven’t heard from him, no prayers will ever bring him back to me now. People disappear, but a little part of you always remains hoping that maybe it was just a bad dream and soon enough your loved one will walk through those doors again. My mother says he’s probably rotting in prison, but I would rather believe he is dead.

I have mastered the art of portraying the perfect facade of not having a single care in the world. I had no choice, it was the only way to survive in my world where different men came and went almost every night. It was an open house. I lost count how many boyfriends my mother had over the years or how many times she let them slap me across the face. It didn’t take me long to realize where the money was actually coming from. What once was my home became my worst nightmare so I grew up on the streets and quickly enough I found myself involved in many dangerous situations as well as potentially fatal addictions. Some of them, I regret and regret is something I carry a ton of within the depths of my soul. My path is now one of sins, it always has been my fate, no matter where I go. I try to be better, to be selfless and compassionate, but then a trigger gets flicked and my emotions turn cold. I push the good people away, hurt them in ways they don't deserve to be and in times like these, I fail to be the warrior I was born to be. Instead, I show the frightened child within, still hiding under the safe covers of my bed, counting seconds until the next hit would come and leave me in tears.

“So you let Max fuck you now? You know what he does, Nora. I didn’t think you were this fucking stupid!” My mother shouted while stubbing out the cigarette into the ashtray on the kitchen counter. Her eyes gave it away, how little she thought of me, how ashamed she was of my choices.

“What can I say? I learn from the best. You have no right to judge me.” I snapped back.

An embarrassment, an idiot, a slut. All the insults heard one too many times, I became immune to it all. I have tasted blood too many times before and now it just tastes sweet. Oddly my mother never approved of the lifestyle I chose, but she gave me no choice. I would have done anything not be stuck in this house, which is why I got involved with Max and his business, that was the easiest way to make money around here. Earn enough to get myself as far as possible from this place. Max owned a brothel in the city where I spent most of my nights for the past few years. It wasn’t all that bad, at least no one could hurt me there. Besides, most of the men only last five minutes and they are good to go which makes my job so much easier. The plan was always to get away and perhaps if only I could get closer to Max, become his favorite girl, a different path would open up. With every risk I take, with every kiss and each tainted touch - I get one step closer to my goal.

My mom’s last boyfriend, Jonathan, he was a bit of a drinker. That’s how I got all my bruises since I was about ten years old, that’s the age when I started to remember. The first slap was the worst, even though his hand was empty, I felt like I was hit with a piece of metal. I guess when you’re a kid, you don’t realize how much strength adults hold because they’re never meant to use it against you. When I was older, whenever I could, I used to take the hits meant for my mother too. My whole childhood I dreamed of the day my mother would leave him, I would go with her and flee the violence. But that day never came. Every hiss from Jonathan’s lips had to be more spiteful than the last, as if it was bringing him satisfaction to see me hurting, breaking. Long ago I learned how to hide the pain, I became intoxicated with the emotions I never had the desire to feel. Hate. The acidity of it was too strong to ignore, it was just waiting to be spat out in the most foul manner. In this fog of anger and vulgar words, before I could realize what was happening, his fingers were wrapped around my throat as he slammed me against one of the kitchen walls and spit on my face.

“You’re a fucking whore. If you were my daughter, I would fucking kill you.”

Here comes another insult, but I just smile in the most twisted way possible. Perhaps I was signing my death wish with the sarcastic curl of my lips, but the temptation to send him over the edge of anger was too sweet to resist. I looked over to see my mother, she was curled up on the couch, almost choking on her tears, but she never had the courage to protect me. The wall shuddered, I could hear my mother desperately crying out for him to stop, to let me go. But his fingers tightened instead, the glowing embers in his eyes ablaze with rage and I could smell the reek of whiskey coming from his breath. I couldn’t deny the pain anymore and my facial expression was a clear indicator. My vision blurred, a flame curled in the pit of my stomach and my brain went on overdrive.

This was my life, always has been, whatever I do, they make me suffer for it. Repeat, repeat, repeat. How many more hits before he decides to finally kill me? How long until my mother finds me beaten to death on the kitchen floor because there was no more whiskey in the house? My words were scattered as I struggled to breathe with his hand still wrapped around my throat. That bitter smile on my lips though, it lingers as I try to provoke him to see how far was the bastard willing to go.

“Kill me, go ahead. Put me out of my misery. I fucking dare you!”

The memories come rushing through, weighing me down as I relived every night I spent crying, begging him to spare me. The flame twisting in my stomach came rushing forward, crawling through my veins and taking complete control over my body. My fingers coiled into fists as I was being completely deprived of air and now my rage held the power of a wildfire. I saw it in his eyes. It was either kill or be killed. I’m scared. Frightened. Was there a chance that all of this is just a nightmare? I’ve been there for my mother so many times, saved her over and over again, but now I was being outgunned and she still would rather watch me die than fight the man she claimed to love. She didn’t know what love was, neither did I, maybe we were never meant to find out. Now my lungs are running out of air as Jonathan continues to choke me. I worry I won’t be able to control the ending of my story. Darkness consumes me and I find myself reaching over for one of the kitchen knives on the counter. Pain and sickness, fear and cold. I let go of the last piece of hope in my heart and stab him in the abdomen.

The waves are crashing, rising and falling. They come without fear of the beach, embracing their destiny. My fingers find their way into the pocket of my leather jacket as anxiety begins to take over, my chest is hollow. What have I done? Is he still breathing? Trying to juggle my mistakes, my past and present sometimes would leave me wishing I was drowning in these mighty waves. I am worthy of a better life, but I have been a drowning victim since childhood and now, in adulthood, I curse those to blame for the life I found myself living.

I walked these streets my whole life, I know them as if they were etched in my mind with a sharp knife, scars so deep they would never heal. I knew I did something horrible, but I had no choice. Right? I had to do it. The guilt was now like gasoline in my guts, there was so much of it, that it left me completely empty, just an outline of a person. I had no one to turn to, except for the family I chose myself, it meant more to me than my own blood. And these beautiful streets, that were once my salvation, now spike up my adrenaline as good as a shot to the arm.

[sashibunbun]

You know what's fucked up? Nearly 40 years of trauma that I'm just now coming to terms with.

Let's start with, I guess, step-uncle (Dad's step-brother), being a straight up abusive asshole. We're talking training me in Martial Arts in a Cobra Kai way, belittling me, actively tormenting me, basically shit, macho older brother shit, trying to make me into basically the guy with a goatee and sunglasses who would say "Covid is no joke, calling all prayer warriors."

Then the instability, so let's trace it 1 1/2-3 Boise (I only know for certain the latter half), ID; 3-6 Henderson, NV; 6 South Lake Tahoe,NV (2 months in Henderson); 6-7 North Lake Tahoe, CA; 7 Kuna,ID; 7-8 Boise; 8-9Nampa,ID; 9 technically homeless in N. Idaho; 10-21 North Bend-Snoqualmie, WA.

Oh and the fun of watching my paternal grandmother (who raised me), slowly die from Diabetes, and being practically the only family who'd visit.

Dad continually coming in, then exiting my life (usually doing hard time) until I was 13, then dropping me back off again ay 16 (because fucking hell I did not want to move to Kansas). So at least the last time was my choice.

Definitely self induced and perpetuated fasting all my life, because fuck it, keeps me sane controlling my weight, even if it's unhealthy. Sometimes seems like the only thing I can control.

Let's start with the specifics at age 1 year 6 months, left to my grandparents because dad is also dealing with his own shit from a bad childhood, and it's 1982 and mom doesn't seem to want to be a single mom.

Flash forward to 7 years old, go to visit dad and step-mom #1. Let's run downy step-siblings first. Horror Movie freak step-brother with massive mental problems, actually tried to lord over me that he was older, actively tried to punish me, usually for no reason all because he couldn't stay up late watching horror movies. Older step-sister #1, massive Marilyn Monroe Stan, didn't really acknowledge me except a few times to tease me. Older step-sister #2 (see TW tags) very inappropriate, like fuck she's the embodiment of red flags for CSA at 12 (porn, playing with dolls inappropriately, inappropriate flirting with me). Then step-mom #1. I could and still can tell I was not supposed to be around, at all. Wanted me to come visit, but had to sleep in a closet, regularly verbally abused, eventually my dad caught wind and actually did the right thing, twice (sent me back to get away because I was sleepwalking and he knew that was no Bueno, then after him and step-mom #1 moved to my grandparents for a short time caught her giving a very abusive, but not physical punishment and divorced her, before going back to prison soon after.)

Actually that was kinda the problem with my dad's relationships until step-mom #2, had older daughters who flirted with me.

The problem in Kuna between 7 & 8. So shortly after the above divorce moved to Idaho, supposedly because Grandmother's health was going downhill from the altitude later found out it was to keep me from becoming a ward because of my dad. Moved in for about 3 months with my great uncle. Great uncle had a friend or something since he was always there named Ken. Next door was a friend one year older than me. Friend was definitely being sexually abused by at least Ken, if not her family (her sisters, looking back now, also showed signs), literally pulled his dick out to rest it on her 8 year old ass. She was the definition of learned that sex=love, so her BFF definitely needed to do what Ken did... guess who that was. Yeah, abused by a kid 1 year older who didn't know better. Oh and aside from maybe my grandparents because he did that shit when they weren't around (both were actually trying to find a place), everybody, including his friends who were Birchers knew what was going on, including my great-uncle (he'd later cop an Alford for having sex with said friend when I was 16).

Then came the most stable time in my life. But oh, the Universe wasn't done. So going along fine until my dad met step-mom #2. Actually still my step-mom and frankly a better one than either of the others. She doesn't actually have anything here was the first to notice I was not doing well mentally.

Split time between the two homes (as unstable as it sounds was actually stable until...) fast forward to me 12, in 7th grade dad decides, you need to live with me and he's stable now, agree because he is. Unfortunately decides a few months later that I should only live with him (12ish years of not being there and just a year or so out of his thankfully last stint in prison). This causes massive problems in the Family. So torn from grandparents, friends, and school. Eventually changed back after a custody agreement was signed. Had to go into counseling a few more times over the next couple years, but it was stable.

Then I found the internet at 14 and by 15 was cybering, usually with people around my age who were, you know, uwu. First online boyfriend was 18. Didn't last long, second was 17 (note I was 15), third was 18, last was actually almost my age. So kinda groomed but not really. Did help me discover my sexuality though.

Then came 1999, probably the worst year of my life. First came Columbine, think on it a kid who liked Rammstein, Manson, KMFDM and loved trenchcoats (face it also in the area of Seattle so it was functional). Everybody avoiding me aside from friends for a month. Then go to Semenary (ex-Mormon) on a Friday, new friend (well old by this time since I'd known her since the 6th grade) and her sister have a fight. Last time I saw either alive. The next day, her stepfather killed in her, her mom, and that same sister, still don't know the reason. Then I moved to Kansas to be with my dad after school was over. Hell got a job doing cold calls because no diploma (technically needed one credit because of a snafu), it's going OK, until about a month in, my dad gets a call that my grandmother is in the hospital for the last time. I let work know and me and my family drive up to see her and attend the funeral. It was here I basically went no contact for almost a decade on my dad's side of the family, because the funeral was basically bashing on her Husband of 20-ish years who was there for her at the worst parts of her life all because she wanted my aunt back when I was 14 to take care of my cousins, instead of her who was in failing health, and nearly blind. After that moved back because Kansas is ass, and going through my senior year a second time for that one class met my first real boyfriend, we ended up breaking up, I said it was because I didn't know if I liked guys, but truthfully, it was because I was scared of other things (see above about ex-Mormon). Then met somebody else, we stayed together off and on until 2004, through a move back to Kansas, then coming back and being homeless for 3-ish months. But during that was...

So I had a friend throughout High School. We were thick as thieves, and he wanted to be a director, and musician and you know teen gonna be big shit. We also had a friend who was going to be pur editor. I wrote, he directed and she edited. It seemed great until I got a call from his mom. Shortly after his return from either Basic or A-school (he was a Marine for the money) and on his way back, she downed some pills and wine. Hit me hard, within the space of a year, I had lost a good friend, the woman who raised me, my first love and kiss, and another good friend.

So flash forward to September 11th, 2004, have a new girlfriend, we're all living at a friend's place. We get into a bit of a fight because of some stupid shit. She goes to the park nearby and me and one of our friends go over to make sure she's safe. The next 3 hours are such hell, being beaten, threatened to be killed, made to watch her rape, before being made to turn away so no witnesses. We're the cops not looking for these guys, it probably would have ended with me getting stomped and dumped. It destroyed our relationship. Soon after I met a guy, actually loved him, and fell out because neither of us were stable. Got stability when I moved back in with my grandfather for the next 3 years in 2006. Then he had a stroke and died, I was there for that death, but it still hurt and I was, in no way able to pay rent so got the first roomy I could afford.

Big mistake, it was 5 years of problems. Living with a schizoform bi-polar person does that. Even worse was his girlfriend. He might have been physical when he went manic, and hell even tried to kill me because he thought it'd bring her back. She however was verbal and mental, constantly doing the same kind of shit as my stepmother. I pretty much cut them out in 2016 when I came back to the stability I'm in now.

So if you wanna know why I say I'm fucked up, well go back to the beginning and reread.

Edit: Shit I almost forgot something. So shortly before that cutting out thing. Attempted and about the only time the roommate's girlfriend wasn't a piece of shit, she managed to get ahold of the crisis line to keep me from taking a kitchen knife down the road, or tossing myself out our second story window into a dive onto the ground.

[gaming-thoughts-by-an-idiot]

Dragon age origins: Human Warrior

"I've never had this many evil choices during dialog... being human is terrible"

[Return to ostagar DLC]

"I was thinking 'why haven't I played this last time' and then I remembered this is a dlc"

"I hate that I cant log online on origins"

"Stop showing me flashbacks to the battle, I was there ish"

"I wish we could've found Duncan, and burned him too :( "

"What the fuck do you mean you 'disagree', Morrigan? Da heck is wrong with you"

"Omg the deserter prisoner is still in his cage"

[DLC done]

"Why was there just a drake wandering out here?"

"Oh my god, stopped again? Ugh"

"Yeeesss bleed out"

"Does all these spider webs remind me of the hobbit or Harry Potter? Both? Both."

"Killed the werewolves, got a random thing for a dalish woman put hunting for random werewolves... alright then"

"I want to tattoo the Grand Oak on me, with the stupid rhyming tree joke"

"I love him so much, ugh"

"I read a letter to the king from Arl Eamon, and he said that Anora was like 30 and getting too old for having kids, and that he should find a new wife to have kids with like- yooo wtf"

"Having Shale and Sten in the same party is so weird"

"dWARVEN CRAFT- buy dwARVEN CRAFT- direct from Orzammar... you wont find better"

"Meeting Alistair's sister, let's goo"

"Save first, always save first"

"Fun fact, his mom is actually an elf, was a warden, got cured, and then we meet her in Inquisition"

"UM?? ALISTAIR IS JUST LIKE, HES GONNA ASK ME SOMETHING WHAT"

"NERVOUS???? SIR WHAT??? AAAAA, YOOO IM MAKING HIM LIKE, UNABLE TO EXIST CUZ IM SO PRETTY OMG"

"Oh wow, the options are so good:

1. Oh? Thanks a lot.

2. Pull yourself together, will you?

3. That's very sweet.

4 I feel the same way

Like??? What's up with these replies??? Being human SUCKS"

"Nr 4"

"I'm such a catch- AAA HE LOVES ME SO MUCH, IM DYING"

"-but you're gonna be king :( - she says, as if that's not the end goal"

"I DO NOT WANT TO BREAK UP, BABY NO-"

"Saving saving saving, and then talk to him again"

"I've played 34 hours, damn"

"I named my human warrior for Anna, cuz it sounds like a royal name"

"??? ANOTHER SERIOUS CONVO??? SIR-"

"A HAJAHXGAKNAJAJAJSHSHAHHAHAKSKAKALA????? I FUCK I HI AHDBAKAHAHDKAB OKAY OKAY OKAY SIR ALRIGHTY MAN ALRIGHT HEY SO HM"

"Okay, okay, I'm calming downnnnnnnnnnn... okay phew ok, so, I was like '??excuse I am just a friend' but then the fucker dropped 'and I... love you' BITCH, SIR, MY HEARRRTTT"

"HE WENT FROM "your wish is my command" TYPE OF GREETING, AND NOW??? WE ARE FUCKING GOOD, HE JUST SAID 'SOMETHING YOU NEED, MY DEAR' HE CALLED ME DEAR, BITCH ITS LIKE WE'RE MARRIED AAAA LOVE THISSS"

"Kissing him<3"

"I'm not saying I don't love Zevran, but like 🥺"

"Saving saving, in case I say something bad"

Anna: Where do u see this going between us?

Alistair: Idk, but maybe if I'm king? Maybe we have to stop :( but I dont wanna think about it

Anna: I'll never let u go, bitch

Alistair: I sure fucking hope not

"More or less what happened"

"Let's go to bed, bby"

"Sten gets all of Cailan's armour"

Anna: its either YOU or ME, and it isnt gonna be me!

*whenever we approach danger*

Anna: my warden senses are tingling

"Being human is so weird"

"Remember to pickpocket your targets before killing them, that's how you get coin"

"Omg, I stabbed him in the throat, it went through, whoa"

"I asked Sten to knock someone out and he started to evil laugh, wtff"

Anna, fighting a thug: is it just me, or do you really think you have a chance?

"Damn, who is she"

"I accept all jobs, I dont care who or what I do, give me money"

"Wait, I'm of high ups blood, I should behave..... moneiiii"

"I just threatened the dude who stole Sten's sword, basically just 'break his bones' like damn"

"Doing the mage quest last"

[zanrelley]

Adrift 12

ROTTMNT Fanfic

Summary:

 Leonardo isn’t rescued from the Krang Prison Dimension by his brothers, forced to flee from his cellmate in the void. The greatest ninja warrior of all time has to learn how to adapt to his new home, traversing low gravity, discovering the usefulness of spaceship corpses from worlds far beyond his own, and finding ways to survive such a harsh abandoned world.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

AO3 Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: All In A Nights Work

Word Count: 3.9k

 Leo awoke with immediate regret, raising his hand to shield his eyes as they were blinded by a white light above him, squeezing them shut with a groan. Had a new hole been ripped into the ceiling above his base while he was asleep? And even then, he didn’t remember the light of the prison dimension being this bright, maybe there was a sun after all?

 Leo rolled onto his side as he tried to open his eyes again, he needed to see if he was in danger, even though he was sure he would’ve been dead or hearing Krang starting some supervillain speech by now if he was there. He just needed to see what had happened, slowly blinking the sleep from his eyes as he tried to look around. He heard a strange sound from his left and turned his head towards it, his vision bleary from waking up, but he managed to get them open. They slowly adjusted, the purple blob in his peripheral sharpening into- “D-Donnie?” Leo asked, his mouth lagging behind his brain as the sleepiness wore off, his eyes popping wide in disbelief. He flung his arms out without hesitation, latching onto anywhere his arms could reach of his brother, ignoring the sharp sting in his arm as he dragged his twin to him with all the strength he could muster, which was apparently more than needed. He came to regret his decision as the gurney was rocked to the side from the frantic shift in weight and fell to the floor, with both turtles in it.

 Leo felt the breath knocked out of him as Donnie landed on him as his shell hit the floor. Donnie immediately scrambled off of him, four mechanic arms flying out of his battle shell as he used them to right himself quicker, wordlessly turning back to help Leo. Leo couldn’t help but burst with laughter like a crazed man, continuing to fumble on the floor, reaching for his purple brother while looking a lot like a turtle who had gotten stuck on its shell. Donnie was overwhelmed by Leo’s first action after waking up to flip them both onto the floor, even more confused about his blue bro’s behavior.

It was all over his face: Were there side effects of the prison dimension they weren’t aware of?

 Leo knew that was exactly what was running through his brother’s mind as he watched him. Donnie hadn’t stopped assisting though, his metal limbs putting the gurney back on its legs properly while his real ones were pulling Leo from the floor, helping balance him on his feet.

 “Leo, please, don’t ever do that again. This is a great example of why I banned surprise hugs.” Donnie chastised him, holding him by the elbow and forcing him back into the bed. Leo couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop giggling, and especially couldn’t stop looking at his brother’s annoyed face while doing so.

 He was back home, somehow, and he was seeing his twin again. He needed to see Mikey and Raph, he needed to know that dad was okay and April was fine. He needed to see Casey doing well.

 Tears brimmed in his eyes as he thought of them, his heart swelling with relief. Donnie was set on getting him tucked back under a blanket, making a face Leo recognized as him pretending to not be just as excited as he was about something, Leo knew it down to a science. He snorted as the joke went through his head, keeping his eyes on his brother.

 “Where are the others?” Leo asked through his giggle fit, Donnie finally coming to stand beside the head of the bed.

 “Raph and Mikey went to get April. Dad is in his room. Do you want me to get him?” Donnie asked, raising up his arm that had his wristlet, fully intent on activating a program that would no doubt drag their father to them right away. Leo reached up to wipe his happy tears away, still chuckling.

 “Nah, I’m sure he’ll make his way over here later.” Leo kept grinning as he continued to stare at Donnie. His brother seemed only a little uncomfortable under all the attempted eye contact.

 “I’m glad we got you back. It took a lot longer than I would’ve wanted.” Donnie tried to start a proper conversation about what had happened, but Leo shook his head.

 “Don, just give me a hug, please. You can tell me all the science mumbo-jumbo rescue explanations later. I missed you guys.” Leo just wanted a hug, he wanted to feel that this was real, that his brother was there with him. Donnie gave him a soft smile, reaching out to grab Leo and getting pulled into a long-awaited bear hug. It felt so right, their plastron’s only slightly ruining the embrace as they scratched against each other.

 Leo couldn’t stop the tears as he shut his eyes and held his brother tight, Donnie giving his classically awkward pats on the back, but his head was burying itself into the side of his neck as they held one another, it was like Donnie wanted proof this was real too.

 “For a guy who doesn���t like hugs, you’re really good at them.” Leo joked as he started to pull away from him, watching his brother respond with a roll of his eyes.

 “I picked up a thing or two from Mikey’s.” Donnie admitted, eyeing him for a moment before taking a seat in a chair Leo hadn’t noticed before. He didn’t recognize it as one they ever had in the lair, maybe Donnie got some new ones for the med bay while he was out. Neither of them got to say anything else before the med bay doors opened, Mikey, Raph, Casey, and April all practically running over one another to get to Leo’s gurney.

 “Leo!” They nearly all said in unison, his bed being dog piled onto as Raph held it steady so he wouldn’t fall to the floor, again. Leo really couldn’t stop the grin on his face or the laughter as he did his best to hug them all back. Mikey was front and center on his lap, crushing Leo’s abdomen with his arms tightly wrapped around him. It made the continuous laughter only slightly harder and maybe helped him feel light-headed, but he didn’t dare to tell him to stop.

 April and Casey were on each arm, their own arms fighting for room to hug him above where Mikey had snuggly fit himself against his chest. He felt relieved to see both of them, he hadn’t seen either for a while after they put their plan in motion to infiltrate the Technodrome. He sent a wink at Raph who was holding the bed steady at his feet. Raph offered a wide smile, tears already waterfalling down his face.

 “So, I hope I didn’t worry anyone while I was away?” Leo continued to joke, only causing the hugs to grow tighter. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to breathe again until Raph grabbed at who he could reach to pull them off, the sides of the bed crowded as they all watched him.

 “We’re so relieved you’re back, sensei. We didn’t know if we would find you to get you out.” Casey spoke up first, grabbing Leo’s hand and giving it a firm squeeze, his eyes also tearing up. April snorted from his opposite side, crossing her arms as she gave a sassy smirk.

 “Yeah, you scared us half to death, Leo! You’re never allowed to pull a stunt like that ever again!” She looked like she wanted to go for a playful punch to his arm, but she turned it into a slap on his chest when she noticed the stitches on his bicep. Leo noticed them now too, surprised that they were no longer the mangy thread he had used, now replaced with fresh and proper-looking sutures. Donnie must have replaced them while he was asleep.

 He glanced at his brother who was still sitting in the chair beside the gurney. He needed an answer to a worry that he had been avoiding during his stay in the prison dimension.

 “How’s my shell look? There was a distinct lack of mirrors, you know, I never got to see the damage myself.” Leo asked in a light-hearted tone, desperately trying to sound casual as he fought back his fear of the damage, hoping it wasn’t as bad as it had felt. Wait, past tense, his shell didn’t hurt at all. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t even feel it.

 Why was that? He shifted in the bed, looking to see if he had something on his back. Did Donnie give him some crazy pain medicine? He didn’t have an IV in and he wasn’t drowsy like some pain meds usually made him feel.

 “Well, it is severely cracked. I had to…” Suddenly Donnie’s voice started to slur, growing distant and muddled but his face remained the same, his lips still moving as he continued talking. Leo couldn’t understand anything he was saying, it sounded like soft mumbling as if someone put an invisible barrier between them to block sound. Leo’s face contorted in confusion as no one else seemed to have a reaction to the change in his brother’s speech.

 Was Leo having a stroke?

 “...It’ll take a long time to fully heal. You’re not going to be able to leave the lair for at least a few months.” Donnie finished his explanation, his voice returning to normal. Leo continued to look at him incredulously, a small headache starting.

 “Donnie, I think you just had a stroke, or I am having one. You just... I didn’t understand anything you just said. A-and I know I always say that, but I mean it literally this time.” Leo watched his twin cautiously, everyone else giving him concerned looks as he put his head in his hands as his headache grew worse. It was strange, this wasn’t like a normal headache, the nagging pain was slowly spreading to the rest of his head and neck. It seeped into his shoulders and his chest.

It felt like it went beyond his skin, reaching out of his body to make the room look like it was pulsing along with every throb. What was happening to him? Leo was only vaguely aware of his family's voices, starting out as concerned murmurs before growing louder, their shrill voices making his brain hurt even more.

 He looked up from his hands as he realized it, they weren't talking, they were screaming. Leo's eyes went wide as he saw it, tentacles sprouting from him, the gooey pink masses were identical to Krang's. He couldn't control them, he couldn't move at all, watching as they snapped and whipped out toward his family.

 Mikey was knocked back into Raph, and Casey and April were forced to back away from the gurney as Leo was covered in more fleshy wet globs of the Krang parasite. Leo couldn't breathe as he was encompassed in the fast-growing blanket of meat. Everything became cold, damp, and dark as he was sealed off from the light of the med bay. He couldn't see his brothers anymore, he couldn't hear them anymore. Everything was black and deathly silent.

 He still felt the gummy texture on his skin, it was everywhere, all around him. He had no escape from the soggy void around him, was this how it happened to Raph?

 Leo felt a surge of anger spike through him, this is what Krang had done to his brother? Leo grit his teeth, finally able to move like his body was finally waking up from a drug-induced sleep. He forced his limbs forward, ignoring the stab of pain in his arm and the ache in his back, opening his eyes as he thrashed at the parasite around him.

 Leo fell forward as he was once again in his room in the prison dimension, his hands hitting the cold hard floor beneath him, his breaths coming in heavy pants. He stared down at the grey nonsensical patterns on the ground, forcing himself to blink a few times as reality set in. He had been dreaming, he had a nightmare.

 He couldn’t bring himself to even his breathing, shaking as he clenched his muscles, the horrible dream running through his head again as he panted in the dim room. Was that what would happen if he went back? Was he infected by the Krang goop? Could he turn into a Krang monster just like that, having no idea he could?

 His heart fluttered painfully in his chest.

 Leo felt a stinging pain growing in his arm, glancing at his injured bicep only to see the wound had been disturbed in his fitful sleep. He must have been moving around too much from his dream. He needed to try and patch the stitches again, and re-seal it properly.

 He sighed as he reached for what little extra he had left of his pseudo-sutures.

—--------

 Raphael woke up to a vaguely familiar ceiling above him, yawning as he tried to stretch his arms out only to have one of them being held in place. He glanced to his side, spotting Mikey curled around said arm, softly snoring with a line of drool leaking out of his mouth onto Raph and the bed. Raph playfully rolled his eyes, glancing at the other bodies weighing him down. 

 Splinter was splayed out across Raph’s stomach, his leg twitching every few seconds, and his snores were much louder than Mikey’s. Raph didn’t know how it hadn’t woken any of them up last night, Casey looking nearly the same as Splinter on his other arm, sprawled out wide with a blanket hanging halfway off of him. It was dad’s idea for them to stay together and they had formed half of a turtle pile in his room, all of them falling asleep while watching Lou Jitsu movies from Splinter’s secret stash. Raph had considered trying to drag Donnie along too, but he knew his brother would just sneak off once they were all asleep, or bite him until he let go, whichever came first. 

 The snapper glanced over to the bedside table to see what time it was on the alarm clock his dad always kept but never used. 6 AM. Raph had no idea when he had actually fallen asleep but it seemed his body was still on his normal schedule, and he had to admit he was eager to do his morning routine, it would give him the time to think of what to do for the day and clear his head. 

 But first, he needed to check on Donnie before he considered doing anything else. Knowing their genius brother he was probably still awake, but part of him hoped Draxum had forced him to go to sleep, but it was unlikely since even they couldn’t get Donnie to go to bed without a fight or a break into his lab, and that was only during an emergency “Donnie has been awake for five days straight” situations. 

 Raph started to sit up, Casey easily rolling off of his arm as he gently grabbed his dad and scooted him off of his stomach and onto the other side of the bed. He reached over to grab Mikey off of his arm but found it to be an impossible task as his brother kept a firm hold on him no matter what he did. He managed to pry one of Mikey’s arms off only to have him contort himself to wrap around somewhere else. He tried unwinding a leg and found it snuggly curled around him again the moment he let go. 

 Alright, Mikey was coming with him to check on Donnie, conscious or not. 

  Raph got out of bed, only needing a few steps to fully adjust to the extra weight, and headed out to confront Donnie. His big brother sense was starting to tingle, he had a feeling he was going to be dealing with that for the next couple of days. It was normal for Donnie to lock himself up in his lab when he got deep into an invention, but he didn’t know how to approach getting him to take a break when they were all silently backing him up on this one. 

 It wasn’t like he was building some new weapon or testing out new tech that never existed before, this was about getting Leo back, and it put Raph at an impasse. How could he bring himself to tell him to stop trying to save their brother? He huffed a sigh as multiple thoughts swam around his head, concerned about one brother locking himself in a neon purple lab, and worried to death about the other trapped in another dimension. 

 He cared about all his brothers and even if they were able to communicate with Leo now there was no guarantee how long he would be safe, and he couldn’t even tell them if he was in trouble, at least not more than they all suspected. The sword talk had eased his mind beyond belief, but he was still scared for his little brother. Krang was still there with him, and he was still alone. 

 He was worried about Donnie too, Raph felt like all the weight had been put on the soft shell’s shoulders like he was the only one who could solve the problem. He wanted to help too, he just didn’t know how. Mikey had been trying to cover different bases, fixating on what to do when they got Leo back and how to welcome him home, what to do to help him feel safe once they got him away from Krang. 

 Raphael didn’t even know where to begin, he didn’t know anything about mystic energies or the Krang dimensional gateway, the only sci-fi-related things he knew were from Jupiter Jim and Leo had him beat on most of that stuff too. Casey probably knew more than all of them when it came to Krang stuff, but no one had really gotten around to asking him, and Raph figured Donnie would ask him if he needed to know. 

 Casey had been nothing but eager since he got there, but Raph could see the exhaustion in his eyes and in the way his shoulders sagged when he thought no one would notice. The kid had been through more than all three turtles combined but he was still ready to run anywhere at a moment’s notice, no questions asked. Raph didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign, they still hadn’t known Casey for very long, and he didn’t know him well enough to tell how much this whole situation was affecting him. 

 He should try to get closer to him, and really finalize bringing him into the family as an honorary Mad Dog. He was pulled out of his thoughts as Mikey started mumbling, nuzzling his face into his shoulder as he walked them through the lair. He reached out absentmindedly to pet his brother’s head as he finally reached Donnie’s lab door, eyeing it as he tried to decide how to approach his brother. 

 Well, it would all depend on what he would witness after disturbing him, and yes he knew Donnie was awake, the hum of a blowtorch was easily heard through the metal door. Raph sighed and steeled his big-brother nerves, raising a large hand to knock on the door. 

 He heard a pause in the blow torch, heard a few things clattering to the floor before the door was pulled open by an exhausted Donatello. His eyes were barely open, looking like he was fighting off falling asleep as he stood there. 

 “Hello, Raphael. Michael.” He nodded to his unconscious little brother.

 “What brings you by?” Donnie asked with another yawn, covering his mouth with a hand as he tried and failed to casually lean against the doorframe, his arm slipping before he righted himself. Raph blinked at him, almost lost for words. Was he trying to pretend he hadn’t pulled an all-nighter? 

 Raph knew Donnie was a bad liar, but this took it to a whole new level.

 “Just wanted to check on my bro... Did you get any sleep?” He already knew the answer to that, the dark bags that were starting to bloom under Donnie’s eyes had already given him away. Donnie waved dismissively, doing a raspberry with his mouth.

 “Pfft, of course I did, he says with total honesty.” Raph sighed through his nose at how bad Donnie was at lying, you would think with the biggest brain among them he could do better, Raph had almost mistaken that for sarcasm. He propped his big arms on his hips as he tried to look past his little brother into his lab, hoping to catch a glimpse of Draxum somewhere inside. Maybe their honorary stepdad could help him talk Donnie into taking a nap, Mikey would normally be his first go-to partner in Donnie sitting due to the soft spot Dee had for him but he was out of commission right now.

 The lab wasn’t dimly lit by any means, the only sources of light being bright purple LEDs lining every corner of the room, it was almost painful to look at. Raph didn’t see any obvious signs of Draxum, and he didn’t know if that should be concerning or not, it was possible he might just be somewhere else in the lab where he couldn’t see.

 “Where’s Draxum? I thought he was helping you?” Raph decided to get the whereabouts of their stepdad that way, diverting his attention back to his half-conscious little brother. Donnie gave a look of confusion like he had no recollection of who Draxum was, before glancing behind him and then looking back to only shrug.

 “I think he is that big guy sleeping on the floor in my lab. I pushed him into a corner, he got in the way of my project.” He lazily gestured with a thumb behind him that Raph knew wasn’t even in the direction of Draxum. So, big Draxie passed out at some point last night while trying to beat Donnie in a “who can stay up the latest” competition and lost. Meanwhile, the soft shell had entered the sleepy Donnie state and had been working all throughout the night.

 “Anyway,” Donnie glanced away from Raph, still refusing to open his eyes all the way, “I need to get back to the Leo-Pod. It has already been two days, I need to get this done for a trial run soon. Bring Michael back in a few hours and I should be able to prepare the next part of my prototype.” Don droned on as Raph gave him an incredulous look. This was even worse, his brother didn’t even know how long he had been awake.

 “Donnie, It’s 6 AM.” Raph watched as Donatello’s face lost all traces of weary sleepiness, his expression becoming somber. It made Raph’s chest ache as he watched the realization hit his brother, Donnie’s mouth opening and closing deftly as he tried and failed to say something back. The soft shell raised his wristlet to prove what Raph said, deftly turning and marching back into the lab, leaving his brothers at the door.

 Raph followed him out of concern, spotting Draxum in a dark corner with a blanket haphazardly tossed over him, and Donnie grabbing his blowtorch off of a table as he made his way over to a small dome-looking invention. It was about as tall as Raph with a small door with a glass window. He couldn’t see the inside, but it was decked out in Donnie’s signature purple, maybe it was almost ready for a trial run like he said.

[feralgalaxy]

Galacta Knight has a nightmare of being locked up in a cramped refrigerator.

Nightmares

...

... ... ... Where...?

He feels that stabbing cold again, though maybe after what he had endured earlier it is a mercy.

The knight picks himself up from an icy cool floor, noting that his body seems to have reformed itself after being reduced to a cinder earlier.

A shock rocks his system. The smell of burning matter and what it felt like to be eviscerated so wholly recreates the dream still fresh in his mind.

Right now, he really just wants to curl back up on this floor and cry his eyes out. Forget everything else and how it would make him seem weak, this was already too much to bear.

And yet, he couldn't. Even in his own dreams, he can't cry. And he would soon see why.

It was as if the warrior had sprung a trap. The moment he stood up on his own two feet again, the sound of something popping open was heard behind him. Turning around, he saw... A large metallic box, like a chest turned on its side. Light and cold poured out from it, like it was some gate to another world.

And then, he starts being pulled in.

He is given no time to react, much less fight back. In a matter of moment, the warrior is pulled inside this device and the door slams itself shut, plunging him in darkness.

No.

No, no... No!!

Immediately, he is plunged into panic. Like a bird caught in a cage much too small, he thrashes about and tries to break free. The door remains impossible to open from the inside, no matter how hard he kicks and screeches at it.

The cold persists, though. It nips at his extremities and brings his body to a chill. Soon, he is shivering, and all this fighting becomes terribly exhausting.

He is forced to curl up in the corner as a whimpering, shivering mess. Resigning himself to yet another sealing, but with an extra horrible twist of having more autonomy than ever and still being unable to do anything about it.

... .... .....

How long has it been now? A minute? A month? One year, or more?

He had learned long ago that trying to keep time when in these prisons was futile. There was a time when he was unsealed so they may try to put him to death he'd ask his assailant how many years had passed. Sometimes they'd have the grace to answer, others not so much.

And then he would kill them after their new toys failed, and then he would be sealed again, and then the next goon with a new weapon of mass destruction would unseal him and he'd ask how much time had passed, and then he would kill them and be sealed again, and then he stopped asking and just skip to the part where he would kill them, and then be sealed again, until they finally gave up and left him alone like that. And he wished they would come back, and try to kill him again, so he could ask the time, and they would not understand Halcandran, and he would give up and kill them, and then be sealed again and wait for the next guy to come and-

Pop!

The doors fling open, and an unseen force grabs Galacta Knight by the shoulders and tosses him to the ground and leaves him there.