#no murder here no sir-ee

[druid-boy-punk]

a bit of a study of my favorite fugitive and criminal <3

ref

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)

Chapter 8

Dew stages an ambitious plan to save Rain from the hangman.

Y'all we're finally at the scene I wrote this fic for! Sorry for the delay, this one kicked my ass writing it lol but hopefully the slight increase in length makes up for it.

Old-timey language and info is from this description of this story's historical premise, as well as various tiktoks on the subject and some fictional embellishments. And yes I've used a 5e movement guide to estimate some timings and distances.

Rating: M Content: previous injury, trauma-induced-catatonia Words: 6277

Links to full fic: Tumblr | AO3

Hello tag alert-ees! @revengeghoulette @everybodyshusband @rainsbasspick sorry to keep you waiting so long!!

Read below, or on AO3!

Dew hurtled along the main street in town towards the huge crowd gathered in the central plaza. He hoped, prayed, begged that after everything he wouldn’t be too late. If they followed his advice, Mountain, Aether and Swiss would be long gone, so he simply had to reach Rain. In the square in the distance, he could just about make out several figures stood on the scaffold of a single gallows. As he got closer it became clear that the tall, yet hunched over, figure was Rain.

The crowd hurriedly parted for Dew as he pushed the horse as hard as she could gallop, some yelling abuse at him as they leapt away from his reckless riding. Skidding to a stop at the foot of the gallows and Judge’s podium he yelled out,

“Wait!”

A rumble of discontent began to ripple through the assembled townsfolk. The Judge peered imperiously down at Dew.

“Can I help you?” he sniffed. “As you can see, I'm rather busy.” This got a sycophantic titter from the acolytes surrounding him. Dew bit back his snarky reply and spoke as clearly and calmly as his shaking body would let him.

“If you will hear me out Sir, I have a petition for Rain's pardon and release.”

The Judge snorted.

“Rain is a criminal, and a murderer at that. A dozen witnesses here will confirm that he summoned his demonic powers with the intent to kill several innocent bystanders!”

Dew couldn't very well argue with the outcome of Rain’s actions, but he did dispute the whole wilfully murdering people part.

“Why should we listen to him, he's one of those monsters too!” another man interrupted. “Hang the demons!” Dew thought he could be one of the town officials. He held his hands out in front of him in what he hoped was a placating manner and tried to dodge the question.

“I assure you, none of this was my doing.” He chose not to acknowledge how he had riled Rain up that morning, challenging him and his abilities and likely pushing him over the edge. “And besides,” he forced what he hoped was a winning smile, “didn't I keep your fires lit during the storms last January?"

The Judge harrumphed reluctantly. Dew continued, laying it on thick,

“Rain here very clearly committed the acts you describe, but I assure you they were an accident. He is still young, and had any of us known of the danger he could pose to our community we would never have let him leave the farm!”

“On what grounds would you have him pardoned then? Simple carelessness is no excuse for murder.”

Dew fished in the top of his bag for the sheaf of parchment he had stored there in preparation. Reading aloud, he projected his voice as best he could,

“By the laws of our blessed land, the life of a criminal condemned to death may be spared, whensoever a person, being of reputable character and sound mind, thereupon consents to marry the aforesaid criminal.”

The Judge stared at him for a long moment, processing what Dew had just said. Finally, he thrust a hand in Dew’s direction, beckoning him to hand over the parchment. Dew was glad he had several backup copies.

“Give me that!” He huffed, scanning over the words. His eyes flickered as he read it, then re-read it, before shoving it under the nose of the advisor who had interrupted before. After some concerned muttering passed between the two, the Judge called for a servant.

“Boy! Go fetch the legal ledger, I want to check this.”

The young man scurried off, into the town hall behind them. If Dew hadn’t still been mounted on the horse, he would have been nervously shuffling his feet. As it was, he felt her anxiously twitching beneath him as he practically vibrated in the saddle.

“So, if this is true, you believe you are of reputable character?”

“I do, Sir.” Dew nodded his head in a show of humility he did not feel. “I believe we established that I have protected many people from this town during the winter months, for several years.”

“I see.”

Dew knew this was the part where his plan could all fall apart. Of those assembled who were from the village, most knew of him and his pack, and had likely received some form of aid from the ghouls over the years either directly or indirectly. As they continued to wait, Dew could feel the crowd growing uneasy as the talk of what he was proposing spread through them like fire spreading through cottonwood fluff. He was sure that while some of those assembled would attribute their recent years of health, prosperity and luck to the ghouls, others still would believe that the noose was too good for Rain and that he and the other ghouls should burn for their witchcraft.

Eventually, the Judge’s assistant returned carrying a large, leather-bound book. He continued to hold it in front of the man, staggering under its weight as he held it open for the man to flick through the fragile pages. A plume of dust rose into the air. Dew was grateful the ghoulettes had thought to leave a page reference on their transcript.

There was a tense pause as the Judge read the relevant page in silence. The crowd nearby waited with baited breath for his response, while those further back and still unaware of the reason for the holdup were becoming increasingly uneasy.

With a conflicted look on his face, the Judge addressed the nervous ghoul in front of him,

“You are correct, this is indeed a law.” The men behind him whispered to each other. He was sure they were debating the tide of opinion in the crowd, and what outcome would spare them the least outrage. As Dew had said: it was common knowledge that many of their elderly would not have made it through the bitter chill of the previous winter without his mysterious help. For years now, many of the village had acknowledged that by accepting the help of the ghouls they were signing an unwritten contract to protect them by turning a blind eye to their less-than-human nature. Those same people now clamoured for the Judge to accept the law and let Dew leave with Rain, lest a curse befall them for their betrayal. Still, other dissenting voices cried for him to hang all of the demons and rid the town of their presence forever. Yet more simply called for them to leave the town, and never return.

Having gone to the trouble to prove the law was indeed real, and given that he had just accepted that Dew had been a true and longstanding asset to their community during the winter – indeed his own mother had been aided by the fire ghoul – the Judge could not easily back down. He looked imperiously down at Dew, as though considering his options.

“And what do you plan to do with your life, criminal spouse secured?”

Dew answered as truthfully as he could,

“We will travel many miles away, back to my family and a dwelling of my people.” He had realised on his trip back that he did consider the ghoulettes and Copia the closest thing he had to a real family, outside of his current pack. They were certainly the first to treat him as though he was family, coming back to them like he did as the prodigal son returned. Dew also hoped the Judge would see his obvious subtext: they would leave the town and return to a far-flung settlement of their own kind, somewhere where humans would be safe from them. He tried begging,

“Please, Your Honour. I wish I could make amends for Rain’s actions, but I cannot. After all myself and my friends have done for you during our time here, I beseech you to let us leave quietly. I can guarantee you will never see or hear of us ever again.”

In the depths of the crowd, Aether, Swiss and Mountain looked at each other with various forms of shock painted on their faces.

“Dew came back?” hissed Swiss, “How didn’t I see him coming?”

“More importantly,” Aether kept his voice low despite every instinct screaming at him to whoop and cheer about his packmate’s return at the top of his lungs, “why is he back? And why is he showing his face, doesn’t he know what will happen if people decide they’re out for blood?”

“He didn’t just bugger off…” Mountain shook his head in stunned disbelief. He’d misjudged Dew’s intentions, badly.

“What is he doing?” Aether continued to fret, “what could he possibly be talking to the Judge about? He’s practically asking to join Rain on the gallows!”

Even with their ghoulish hearing, none of them could pick out the exchange happening in front of the podium over the noise of a thousand other competing conversations. Clearly it must be something important, as a young assistant had just been sent hurtling into the town hall, returning minutes later with a book almost the size of his torso. Taking advantage of the disquiet in the confused crowd, the three ghouls bean to sidle carefully closer until they could hear what was happening, but they were still unwilling to draw additional attention to themselves.

With the best hearing among them, Mountain picked up on the conversation first. Was Dew… begging? He couldn’t even recall the last time Dew had said ‘please’, let alone fathom him actually begging for something. Was his own life now in danger?

Aether meanwhile, had diverted his attention to Rain. The ghoul was swaying dangerously on his feet: the combination of mental and physical exhaustion, hunger, and the increasingly warm midday sun were clearly affecting him. Aether feared if they didn’t come to a resolution soon, Rain would no longer be conscious to learn of it.

Having heard enough to make his decision, the Judge pulled himself up straighter and addressed Dew and the crowd in a booming voice,

“It has been brought to my attention that, by way of our ancient customs, if an accused is proposed marriage below the gallows and concedes, then they may be spared execution.” He looked down at Dew, a begrudging scowl on his face, “Dewdrop here is a longstanding member of our community, and has proposed marriage to the Demon of the Flood. He has assured me that they will leave here immediately after, never to return.”

The crowd erupted.

In the midst of the outrage and confusion, three ghouls were now more shocked than ever. They stared at Dew as though he had grown a second head: firstly he had returned to the danger of a potentially murderous mob to try and petition the release of a ghoul he had never shown an ounce of affection, and now he was asking to be married to him? It was beyond their comprehension.

The Judge scanned the crowd, before pointing to the town Reverend, hovering at the side.

“You! Come and marry these two so we can get this exhibition over and done with.” The small and wizened man quickly scurried forward towards the gallows.

“I will be the witness for the accused,” the Judge motioned to the barely vertical Rain before sneering back at Dew as he strode towards the foot of the gallows, “you may pick your own.”

Before Dew could even turn to look for a potential friendly face, a familiar voice spoke up,

“I’ll witness!”

Aether pushed his way through the crowd towards Dew. In an instant, an unspoken conversation passed between them, finalised by Dew hissing at him,

“What the fuck are you still doing here? I told you to escape while you could!”

“The same reason you’re here,” Aether whispered back, “saving Rain!”

The pair reached the foot of the gallows at the same time as Rain was brought down from the platform. As his feet touched solid ground, he practically collapsed into Dew and Aether's arms.

“Sorry... I'm so sorry...” he muttered incoherently into Dew's shoulder, as he clung to him like a lifeline. He was almost catatonic, staring but not fully seeing, as though his mind was on another plane of existence.

“I'm sorry too,” Dew whispered back as Aether surreptitiously fed a stream of energy into Rain until he could stand almost unaided and had stopped his jumbled murmuring, “I pushed you that morning, if anything this is all my fault!”

The pair broke apart as the Judge coughed loudly. A small space had been cleared out around them, the crowd continuing to jostle for a better view.

“Let's get this over with then.” he sniffed, standing on a box laid down by one of his cronies to maintain his imposing stature above everyone's heads. “I take it you are going along with this?” he addressed Rain for the first time directly. The water ghoul just about managed to nod, so the judge gestured offhandedly to the nervous vicar. “Make it quick, Padre.”

The Reverend stumbled through the formalities, acknowledging the presence of two parties, with their respective witnesses, keen to connect their lives eternally in the eyes of the church. Each of the ghouls in attendance – or at least those who were conscious enough to – reflected that their own clan's various handfasting ceremonies seemed so much more meaningful that this trite reading of scripted empty promises.

Aether continued pouring as much energy as he could spare into Rain through a hand resting on his back. As the pair were directed to hold hands for their vows, Dew suppressed a shiver at the frigid temperature of the water ghoul's hands. He heated his own to try and defrost him, fearful however of burning him. Rain parroted his responses like a marionette, going through the motions like a puppet at Aether's command. As the final vow, the instant of I do, arrived, Dew smiled encouragingly at Rain and thought he finally saw a flicker of recognition in his glazed eyes. He couldn't be certain however, if it was a positive spark or not.

“Dewdrop; before this audience of your peers, your nominated witness, and the Lord above, do you pledge to protect and care for Rain, to be his faithful companion through life, and guard him through all harm?”

“Yes, I do.”

“And do you Rain, pledge the same?”

“I d-do.”

Rain’s face was an empty slate as he spoke. The final two words, as simple as they were, draining him. With a last burst of quintessence, he was able to stumble forward and scrawl a mark in the town marriage roll. Once Dew's own signature was complete, Aether as a witness had to withdraw for the final announcement. Passing the weight of the slowly slumping water ghoul to Dewdrop, the small fire ghoul sagged under his weight. Rain’s whole body felt like it was made of ice, and Dew ached to warm him up.

“Just a bit longer, we're almost done now.” he breathed into Rain's ear. He shivered, from the tickle of Dew's breath or his own internal chill Dew couldn't be sure.

“Then in the eyes of this church, by the laws of this Land, and before this council of heaven and its servants, I now declare you eternally bonded as devoted spouses for all eternity.” the Vicar declared, his final recited words coming out in a rush before he stepped back, melting away into the crowd. The Judge cleared his throat before addressing the pair,

“Rain, I hereby pardon you in accordance with the historic laws of our society." He directed his next point at Dew, “I have kept up my side of your bargain; you and your Demon are free to go. Now you must keep your end. Leave here, and never return. I never want to hear of you, your kind, or your descendants ever darkening the doorstep of our town ever again.”

Dew nodded hurriedly,

“You have my word.”

With a curt sniff, the Judge turned, stepped off his box, and re-joined his men. Dew took this dismissal at face value, and passed his brand new dearly beloved back to Aether.

He retrieved his horse from where she had been patiently waiting. He stroked her nose, thankful that nobody had recognised her as the stolen horse from the week prior. Cowbell had clearly gotten bored while Dew was huddled away with the ghoulettes, as she had been returned to him brushed cleaner than he could have imagined and with her mane and tail braided in the intricate northern style. The makeover, combined with her natural lack of distinctive markings, had seemingly been enough of a disguise for now. Dew was keen to get her away from watchful eyes as quick as possible however: if he were branded a horse thief, the whole pardon through marriage would be rendered null and void.

Dew debated putting Rain onto the horse’s – also now clean and repaired – saddle, but from the way Aether was gripping him it didn’t look like he was in any fit state to balance or support himself. Instead, Dew slung one of Rain’s arms over his shoulder and, reins in his other hand, he and Aether quickly propelled him through the crowd towards the main gate. The chatter of those around them was oppressive, but Dew tuned it all out to focus on leaving in as expedient a manner as he could. Towards the edge of the square, Dew caught sight of Mountain and Swiss’s heads over the crowd, pushing their way towards them.

“Seriously?” Dew growled at Aether, “You’re all still here?”

“Of course we are,” Aether hissed back, “we had no idea if you were ever coming back! And we couldn’t lose Rain too.”

Dew supposed he had a point, when he put it like that.

Breaking free of the crowd, the pack were all soon reunited. This was no time for celebration however, as they could all feel the thousands of pairs of eyes tracking their exit. Swiss nodded a greeting at Dew, before motioning for him to hand over the reins of the horse. Dew willingly surrendered them, hoisting Rain’s sagging body higher up onto his shoulder, his balance severely disrupted by the height imbalance between himself and Aether.

The second they passed through the gate and turned out of sight of the staring masses, Mountain swooped in wordlessly. He scooped Rain up, tossing him onto his back and jogging away without looking back. The others gave chase, heading back to the spot where the three ghouls had moved their camp to regroup and plan their exodus. The entire journey was silent. Dewdrop couldn’t tell if it was an awkward silence, a stunned or exhausted one, or if everyone simply had too many emotions racing through their bodies to articulate words. For him it was a combination of everything.

They had soon reached the small copse where their meagre belongings were stored. Aether, ever the peacemaker, was the first to speak.

“We can’t stay here long,” his pack nodded at the warning as they all sunk to the ground, “we had a camp a few miles further out where it was safer, but we didn’t think Rain would be able to make that journey yet.” He explained to Dew. “At first light, we should get moving, but it’s probably safe to spend the night here.”

Together, they tended to Rain and made camp for the night. Making a fire went far quicker now that Dew was here to lend his magic to it: over the last week the others had struggled, Mountain’s earth element seemingly repelling the flames. While he gently coaxed the smouldering logs and kindling to life, Aether settled Rain and began checking his vitals and dressing his wounds. Mountain laid more of his protective wards around the area, and Swiss prepared the ingredients for Aether’s revitalising tea, ready to brew it once the fire was going. They all worked in near-silence. Mountain’s muttered spells, Swiss’s quiet questions to Aether and Aether's to Rain were the only words exchanged between them.

The tension in the air was so thick that Dew could have cut it with a knife, and so frosty that he began to feel cold even sat next to the fire. Finally, he could stand the silence no more. Maybe some small-talk would shatter the ice?

“Uh, it’s good to see-”

"You could have told us what you were planning.” interrupted Mountain, speaking for the first time since the morning. “You shouldn't have just run off like that, we thought you'd abandoned us and left Rain for dead.”

“But, I thought-”

“Frankly I don't give a shit what you think Dew,” Mountain turned on him with a snarl, his pent-up emotions getting the better of him, “we could've all died today, if your little stunt hadn't worked. Hell, we planned on getting thrown back in the pit if it came to it to save Rain. And what did you do? Run off and hide, then rush back in to play the hero at the end!”

“It's not like that!”

“Then what is it, Dewdrop? Because from where I'm standing is sure as all Hell looks like it!”

“If you must know, I went to ask for help, not to hide.”

Mountain snorted derisively, “You? Ask for help? What with – writing your marriage vows?”

"That's enough!” Aether bellowed suddenly, interrupting them. “We're all alive, which is more than we thought we would be this morning.”

The two chastised ghouls sat silently, glowering at their feet. Aether rarely got angry but when he did, people listened. He fixed his piercing violet glare on Dew first.

“Dewdrop, it's good to have you back, but please never ever run off without explaining yourself again. People could have been hurt today.” Dew nodded, suitably chastised.

“And Mountain, keep your temper in check. At least give Dew a chance to explain himself before jumping to conclusions.”

"Yes Aether.” the pair muttered.

“Our priority for now should be stabilising Rain enough to travel, then getting as far away from here as possible.”

Swiss looked up from where he was helping Rain drink his mug of warm liquid.

“Do we have any plans for where ‘far away’ could be?”

Aether and Mountain both shrugged. They were the most widely travelled of the group, but before settling here, neither one had put down any roots elsewhere.

“I might do,” Dew said quietly. Mountain turned a cold stare on him, which he chose to ignore, “it's the place I came from before, where I went back to this week.”

All eyes turned to look at Dew: even Rain showed a spark of interest, the heat of the tea seemed to be thawing him from his stupor. Dew had never spoken of his time before joining the pack, any questions had been thoroughly shot down, and Dew had made it very clear that all discussion of his past was off limits.

“It's this Abbey, a religious place about a week north by foot, with lots of ghouls and a few very devout humans. They study His word, and try to spread it through art, literature and music.”

“And we could stay there? For how long?” Swiss perked up. Dew had expected he would be most receptive to the idea, as the most sociable member of the pack.

“As long as we want, I think?” Dew shrugged his shoulders, “They took me in, years ago, in exchange for working there.”

"Why did you leave?” Aether asked softly. “It sounds like a good place for a scared young ghoul.”

“Thanks.” Dew smiled wryly, knowing that description fitted who he was when Aether had first found him, better than he would like to admit. “It just wasn't right for me, back then. Things are different now,” he paused, “I'm different.”

“You’re not expecting us all to give up our freedom and serve some humans, just because they told you about some obscure law?” Mountain asked, incredulity clear in his voice. “Is that why you went in the first place, to sign us all up? You couldn't have known that they would have some miracle answer for you.”

"Mountain...” Aether warned, but Dew waved him off.

“No, I didn't know they would have a solution like this. I didn't know if they would be able to help at all.” Dew looked imploringly into the face of his packmates, “But I knew what our chances of saving Rain were otherwise, and what the consequences would be if we failed.”

“We'd all be in the pit.” Swiss clarified, unhelpfully.

“We're all too susceptible to each other's elements,” Aether confirmed, “every plan we made was hindered by our own vulnerabilities to each other.”

“That's what I thought the ghouls up north could help us with,” explained Dew, “there's ghouls of every element and they all live together without any problems, so I thought they could teach me some way to avoid hurting each other with our magic.”

“Getting Rain out of there would certainly have been easier.” nodded Aether. Even Mountain had to grudgingly admit that Dew was correct in his thinking.

“We're all here now and we're all safe, so let's start thinking forwards.” Swiss reasoned. “Unless anyone has any better ideas, this Abbey seems like the best place while Rain is recovering.” He had a point; staying here they were like sitting ducks.

“It’s not like you’d be trapped there,” added Dew, “they let me leave before, and all the other ghouls are there of their own free will too.”

“Presumably their help isn’t free?” Mountain asked, suspicion still clouding his tone.

“No, but they trade in knowledge rather than money,” Dew explained, “you and Aeth have an encyclopaedic knowledge of medicinal plants, so they'll probably just ask for your help with a few bits in the gardens or their infirmary while Rain gets better.”

“It would help if we still had our anthology, but we couldn't find it anywhere when we left.” sighed Aether sadly.

Feeling guilty, Dew stayed silent.

“What are the ghouls there like?” Swiss asked, curious. “Are they travellers who settled down like us, or a family clan, or what?”

“They're mostly like us, there's ghouls from all over and of all elements.” Dew thought about the ghoulettes there, and how they had been so happy to see him again after so long. “But they've made their own sort of clan, I guess, like a family.”

With the rapt attention of his pack Dew kept talking until the light was fading, the sky changing from blue, to orange, to a deep indigo.

He started by describing the air ghoulettes; the first ghouls he had ever met who showed him what a true, nurturing family could be like. Like Swiss, who was part air-ghoul, they both had almost uncanny predictive powers. The premonitions of the air ghoul clans had always been hailed as their best defence against the occasional warmongering of other stronger and more violent families of ghouls, but usually they gathered and shared information as a swarm rather than as individuals. Cumulus was unique in that she could hear more complete whispers on the winds; small snippets of conversations and rumours wove their way through the breeze to her waiting ears. Cirrus's were slightly different but no less complete, her own visions relating more to the tides of weather than the tides of fate.

Dew continued, describing how his one-time mentor Mist had come to the Abbey after her ancient clan was scattered across the land, when humans drained their river habitat with their dams. He even briefly mentioned Sunshine, although he had only met her during the week before, the first multi ghoul he had met besides Swiss. He knew she had lived amongst humans before too, although he hadn't asked what had changed that led her to the Abbey. He knew some of the other ghouls had been there longer than anyone had any record of – it was hotly debated if Cowbell had been the first ghoul to arrive, or if the building had simply been erected around them.

“What is the human in charge there like?” Aether asked. Dew supposed it made sense that this would be the part they were most sceptical of: if it were any other human, he would be too, and probably doubly so. He thought about the best way to describe the enigma that was Papa Emeritus the Fourth, a man who frequently said ‘ghouls are His children; I am His mouthpiece’.

“He seems more like a ghoul himself sometimes,” Dew finally answered. “Not in a feral way, but he seems to understand ghoulish instincts and needs better than a human should. He might be in charge, but he runs the Abbey for the ghouls.”

That didn't do him justice, Dew supposed, but it would have to do for now. Without Copia showing that not all humans were untrustworthy, Dew would never have considered settling with Aether and Mountain near a village like they had. After the events of the past week however, he was inclined to think that Copia really was an exception amongst his species.

“And the other humans?”

“They’ll do anything he says,” Dew said, thinking of the sheep-like Siblings of Sin, “I don’t think any of them want to find out what would happen if they showed an ounce of disrespect to a ghoul!”

“It sounds like we would be safe there,” Aether said thoughtfully, “and I can't see any other option for now.”

He and Dew looked cautiously at Mountain for his reaction.

“Fine, I guess we can go to this Abbey,” he sighed, “Aether's right, there's nowhere else we can take Rain, and he'll never recover if we stay out on the road forever.”

With a plan in place, each of the ghouls seemed a little more relaxed as they began sifting through their supplies to find something to call dinner, all of them suddenly realising how hungry they were. Aether took a turn coaxing Rain to eat, the still-silent ghoul tentatively nibbling on some dry bread soaked in a broth of more healing herbs. He laid a healing hand on his jaw, sensing the water ghoul's pain with every bite. Rain stilled, hissing quietly at the pressure on the sensitive patch of skin, stained indigo with bruising. Aether funnelled quintessence through his fingertips, the blood beneath Rain's skin starting to disperse and the damaged tissue beginning to knit itself back together.

“That's the best I can do for now,” he said softly, “if we can find the correct herbs, I'll make you a poultice to bring the swelling down further.”

Although Rain continued to say nothing, Aether saw the relief in his eyes as he was able to finish eating without pain.

“Can we make the trip?” He asked Swiss, before clarifying, “Will Rain be able to?”

Swiss zoned out for a second, contemplating, before smiling, “I think so. I don't see him getting any worse.”

"Your sight is back?” asked Mountain, leaning forward into the multi ghoul's space to poke at his forehead as though he had a third eye there. Swiss nodded happily, staring at the finger in front of him with crossed eyes.

“Yeah, it came back as we were leaving the village! I still can't see much, but there's light ahead for us now.”

“I wonder why you lost it,” mused Aether, “and what brought it back?”

Swiss flicked his eyes to Dewdrop. “I think it was Dew.” The fire ghoul stared at him wide-eyed, and raised his hands in front of him as if to say ‘don’t blame me, I wasn’t here!’ Swiss snickered gently at his reaction.

“It wasn’t anything you did, don’t worry. I think I couldn’t see anything because I was only considering the three of us plus Rain.” He explained, pacifying the mildly panicked Dewdrop.

“I wasn’t questioning what Dew was doing at all, if anything I was trying to avoid seeing him to not get distracted,” Swiss didn’t want to admit it and stir the already frayed emotions between his pack, but the real reason he had been avoiding poking for Dew’s future was that he was as upset with him for leaving as the others were, “but because he was so crucial for Rain’s rescue it meant I subconsciously blocked everything about that out too!”

“Uh, sorry?” Tried Dew, but Swiss only shrugged with a small smile, “It’s back now, that’s what matters. I’ll keep a more open mind when looking ahead in future.”

“So,” said Aether, fighting back a yawn as the exhaustion from the last week, combined with the copious amounts of his own strength he had poured into Rain, began to take its toll on him, “it’s agreed, we’re heading north?”

A chorus of assent followed.

“Then let’s stay here for the night, and get moving early.”

“I’ll take first watch,” murmured Mountain, always one to volunteer. Dew suspected he was also keeping an eye on him, should he decide to flee again. Earth ghouls were a stubborn species: once you earned their trust it took a lot to shake it, but if it was lost, it took even longer to regain.

Leant against Aether’s side, Rain stirred from his stupor for long enough to begin shivering violently in the chilly night air. Aether wrapped a strong arm around him, rubbing him gently to try and warm him.

“Dew, Rain’s as cold as ice, he can sleep next to the fire but you should put your bedroll next to him to keep him warm if you can.” Aether said with concern. Dew stared at him blankly.

“Bedroll?” He asked, confused.

“Sleeping mat?” Tried Aether. Dew shook his head. Survival skills never were his strong suit, supposed Aether. “Then what have you been sleeping on?”

The fire ghoul pointed at the horse blanket, draped over the mare’s back beneath her saddle. Aether sighed,

“The horse blanket is for the horse, Dew. It's a chilly night and we've got a long trip ahead of us, she'll get sick if you let her stay cold for too long.”

“I didn't think of that,” Dew looked guiltily at his feet, “do you have a spare one?”

It was Aether's turn to look sheepish.

“We only brought four, we expected Rain would need one, but we didn't think you were coming back.”

Dew looked dejectedly at the pile of warm blankets Swiss was arranging around the fire. He guessed if he curled up close enough to it, it would keep his own internal fire lit for the week ahead.

“Do you think you could share with Rain?” Aether almost begged, “You two are the smallest, and he really needs to be kept warm right now to recover.”

While Dew huffed and puffed indignantly, and made a large song and dance about the whole situation, Swiss bit back a joke about them enjoying their wedding night. Maybe Mountain would appreciate it later, when he wasn't in a vindictive mood and liable to repeat it in order to upset Dew further.

Eventually, the five ghouls were settled. Dew had his back to Rain, led as far away from him as the blanket tucked around them would allow. The water ghoul had finally stopped shaking as Dew's natural heat warmed the blanket and the air within, and the embers of the fire glowing nearby radiated their dying warmth at them as they fell into fitful sleep. Aether had passed out cold almost as soon as his head touched the ground, exhausted from the day. Swiss took a little longer, getting comfortable as Mountain took up his now-routine watch position by his feet, but soon joined the others. He was most happy taking on sentry duties during the witching hour, although Mountain was loath to wake him every time.

Mountain trained his watchful eyes and ears on the area surrounding them, alert for anything out of the ordinary. Above the town in the distance, an orange glow lit up the sky. He wondered if it was a celebration at their exile, or an angry mob preparing to hunt them down. The part of him that was angry at the world and wanted to burn it all down hoped it was the latter.

He knew his reaction to Dew's return had been out of order, driven by his fury at the unfairness of the situation. What Rain had done was terrible, but similar accidents before had been treated as the mistakes they were. When a barn fire had taken out half of Farmer Hedditch's livestock and four of his sons, including his youngest at only six years of age, the careless farmhand responsible had at least been allowed to explain himself. He had later been tried and imprisoned for his inaction and negligence, but at no point had his own death been proposed. Yet Rain had been presumed a monster, and all the town had clamoured for the harshest punishment of all.

Mountain sat and seethed at the injustice of it all. He would have to apologise to Dew eventually: while he shouldn't have antagonised Rain as he had, no one could have predicted how far-reaching the consequences of his jibe that morning would be. Despite the unorthodox way he went about it, and the mistakes he made by not explaining himself, he had indeed saved Rain – and possible all of them – from death or banishment to the pit. Come morning, the next chapter of all their lives would start, and they could all begin to heal from this ordeal.

[randomperson339]

Insects Gods and Mortals 3

AN: hey so this one was back when I was in the habbit of making several page long chapters. I'm going to try to make chapters of this length again, but the thing is I might not have the time anymore to make em w/ out taking months for a single one. That's months, with an s. And while I could do that, my neurodivergent ass wouldn't like it. Also here's the masterpost

Also new rule: Enligh is in italics, and whatever language bugs use is in normal font. (and if you want to start at the beginning, I've been tagging these w/ the title) anyway, enjoy

“Fuck.”

For the second time, that was all Thomas could say. If he was the host- if he was going to die- he needed immediate attention. Hopefully- hopefully he would have a week to sort everything out, and possibly get surgery to at the very least kill-

“No. No kill. Stay alive.” The queen retorted. “you kill / I kill you.”

“Yeah, but what about my life?” Thomas retorted. “If I just kill myself-“

“No.” The queen commanded, sending more shockwaves of pain coursing through Thomas. “I no die. Therefore, I keep host alive.”

“Yeah, but if I’m going to die, I might as well just keep myself alive until I tell the Pale King not to murder his hundreds of children. Then after that, I’m going to die anyway, so…”

“No. Keep alive.” The juvenile responded.

“How? Your birth cycle necessitates that I die. Therefore, I might as well just get it over with.” Thomas continued. 

That stumped the Queen for a bit, allowing Thomas to try to stand up, before crashing back down. It seemed the Queen really didn’t want him to leave just yet.

“What about the surz-gur-ee?” The Queen asked.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“What is it?” 

“Um, it would basically be cutting me open when unconscious, then removing you somewhere where we can safely kill you.”

“Impossible to remove. Surz-gury kill host. Natural better.”

“For you or me?” Thomas asked, as a lone figure started to approach.

“For both. I can control birth. Cannot control suez-gury.” 

“But I could control the surgery. What happens, who’s present, if I’m unconscious or not, why would I give that up?” The pillbug-like visage wasn’t in much of a rush, much to Thomas’s chagrin. 

“I could stop pain.” The Queen innocently remarked.

“Yeah, and if I’m going to die anyways, might as well let someone kill you while you’re still weak.” Why was the figure moving so slow? Thomas wanted out of this conversation, now. 

“And why should I die?” The Queen asked, unaware of how bloody her species' history was.

Thomas was given a moment to collect his thoughts, and observe the figure. While it was absolutely a pillbug, it certainly was dressed up in more comfortable clothes than any Thomas had seen...

“Why?” The Queen repeated.

Taking in a breath, Thomas began: “You see, your species is a naturally parasitic species. You need hosts to propagate, and you’re the one that makes all those parasites. If you start a hive, nobody in Hollownest could stop you, leading to a lot of death. Potentially an apocalypse.”

“While I’m sure you might want that, but I don’t think anyone else wants it.” Thomas thought before quickly being shaken awake by the now overhead figure. 

“SIR? Are you alright?” The Pillbug asked, panic filling his voice. 

“Y-Yeah I guess.” Thomas replied, trying to take a stand with his agonising legs, only to come crashing down again. “Actually, no. I’m not.”

As the bug came closer to Thomas, it continued. “I-I’m sorry that I didn’t help you sooner. I thought that you were a body, left there to rot. I was planning on disposing of you, when I saw that big breath you took.” 

“Thanks.” Thomas continued, feeling the Queen starting to mentally brush up against his mind. “I’m just looking for the tailor-

“Oh! To hide your affliction? Of course! I’ll fit you for free! It would be indecent for me to leave you out like this.” The pillbug replied. 

“Ah, good. Could you get me a cloak? And a mask, if you have one.” Tomas rolled over.

“Absolutely.” The pillbug said, hesitated.

“Thank you. I’ll be able to stand up in a minute, go ahead.” Thomas offered, letting the tailor run back to her house. Which left him and the Queen where they left off. 

“Truce? Until outside?” The Queen asked.

“Sure. I don’t try to kill you, and you don’t try to get out.” Thomas stated.

“But need outside. Too confined here.” The Queen rejected. “Will try non-fatal birth.”

“Non-fatal birth?” Thomas inquired. He hadn’t heard of a single Xenomorph that didn’t kill its host upon exit. If, and I mean if, it worked he wouldn’t only have a week to get everything sorted.

“Try.” The Queen stressed. “Theoretical birth. Too inconsistent to try. Host could still die.” 

“Could you stop calling me ‘host’? My name’s Thomas. And try to fix my legs while you’re at it.” Thomas asked.

“Sure ho- Thomas.” Agreed the Queen.

After succeeding to stand up, Thomas took a tentative step forward. That did remind him that his legs were sore, but it wasn’t painfully sore like it was before. It was normally sore like after going out for a jog. 

Steadily walking to the tailor’s house, Thomas asked the Queen “How do you even plan on making me live through you, ah, violent birth?”

“Latch onto eating system. Change h-Thomas’s genes to help. Try to make smaller opening.” The queen informed.

Thomas was surprised at that revelation. “Wait, change my genes? You can do that?”

“Yes.” The  Queen non-chalaly replied. “Have to be careful, but possibility.” 

After thinking for a moment, Thomas carefully inquired. “How do you change somebody’s genes?”

“Um… by using royal jelly.” The Queen responded. “No… scein-tik-fic reason. Just happens.”

“So why/how has this ability been used?” Thomas hadn’t heard of direct genetic tampering with xenomorphs. Why hadn’t they just used that and every xenomorph become an even better killing machine?

“Mostly tweaks/incopertation. Un-based genetic tampering creates disease. Need something to copy off of.” The Queen clarified. 

“So, you can’t create new structures, only change old ones?” Thomas clarified. He really wanted to know what he was getting into. Actually, what he was in.

“Yeah. Can change, not create. Too… finicky.” The Queen finished. 

“Now, what do you plan on doing to me?” Thomas asked, hoping he wouldn’t wake up with giant spikes sticking out of his back. 

“Mostly unnoticeable. Strengthen muscles, help heart, just basic things.” The Queen assured him.

“Good. I really didn’t want to randomly grow a tail.” Thomas joked, right when he reached the tailor’s house. 

Reaching out, Thomas gave a big “thunk thunk thunk” for a knock. Which was promptly followed by the shrill screech of the tailor, followed by a great crashing sound. 

Looking inside, Thomas found the Tailor collapsed under a mountain of cloth. Ducking in, he moved to get the sea of cloth off, however the tailor spoke up first.

“Sorry… but you’re still… covered in soul. Give me a minute and I’ll be right as rain.” The Tailor diswaided. “If you need to get rid of it, I have some drying rags in the back.”

“Thanks again.” Thomas replied, before quickly hurrying out and around the house. Quickly scrubbing off his hands, his bloody hands, He thought about his situation for a moment. 

He was in the world of Hollow Knight, a video game. With a queen xenomorph stuck inside his chest, which was from some movies. Which were pieces of fiction, and weren’t directly related to his previous… reality.

So, if he was currently inside a piece of media, then didn’t that technically make him part of that media? Was he actually being controlled by someone other being that thought it would be funny to put him in another dimension? Was he even real?

His thoughts were interrupted however, by his own blood starting to trickle down the back of his hand. 

“Fuck”

That wasn’t good at all, there were probably hundreds, if not millions of unknown foreign bacteria crawling around on each surface. If even one wrong bacteria got in, it could easily spell the end for Thomas. 

At least his hand weren’t covered in the still warm soul of the Tiktik. That could’ve been a complete disaster. 

However, now Thomas really needed some piece of cloth to make a makeshift bandage. The drying cloths wouldn’t work, since who knows what had been on them, but hopefully the tailor had some extra cloth she could spare. 

Quickly rushing back in, Thomas saw that the Tailor was frantically searching around her house for… something. 

Briefly looking up, the Tailor addressed Thomas. “Ah, sorry, I just didn’t think about you height. Turns out that there’s no cloaks that could cover everything about you.” 

Now that she mentioned it, Thomas was quite a bit bigger than any other bugs he had seen. The Young bug he met was about half his height. The Tailor got to his neck. And assuming that the Tailor was a pillbug (she looked at one, at least), that put him as one of the tallest beings in Hollownest. The only people he really thought were bigger than him were the White Lady, the dreamers, and the hunter. Also the city guards too, but those don’t really count. 

“I could just wear two cloaks, like the clothes I’m wearing now.” Thomas responded. 

“I suppose so…” the Tailor responded, rummaging out two cloaks. “These should be sufficient?”

Thomas held the larger one to his chest, then the smaller one to his waist. “They look pretty good. Do I have to pay for them or…? He led off. 

“With those cloaks?!” The Tailor gasped. “Who in their right mind would let you run around like that? One of them’s got soul in it. Please, consider this a favour.”

“I guess so.” Thomas replied. He hadn’t thought about the warm wetness on his back. “Is there some kind of changing room?” 

“No, but I do need to leave for some food.” The Tailor replied, scooting past Thomas and almost out the door.

“Wait, I didn’t catch your name. What was it again?” Thomas played dumb, rubbing his nape. 

“It’s Helph.” The tailor, Helph as Thomas now knew, replied. 

“Thanks for everything.” Thomas finished, as Helph closed the door. 

“Other Rival queens? Me queen! Me kill! Me slay rivals!” The Queen bounced into Thomas’s conscious. 

“Um, uh don’t kill the other queens.” Thomas ‘spoke’, before elaborating. “The other queens are not like you. You’re supposed to be more of an ant queen, where you lay all the eggs. These queen take more of a leadership role, where they’re not related to anyone else, except their immediate/extended family. They’re not rivals, they’re just… potential allies.” 

“So, keep alive for hosting?” The Queen unabashedly asked.

“No! That’s wrong.” Thomas knee-jerked before making a coherent argument. “I don’t want any facehuggers running around. If one attaches itself to a bug, it’s basically a murder youcommitted.”

At that the Queen grew silent for a minute. “I… murder host?” She meekly said. 

Ah fuck. Thomas had basically just told a 10-year old that she was a cold blooded killer. So, thinking fast Thomas back-pedaled. “I meant when you’re the one controlling the face-hugger! It’s not applicable if you’re not involved with it, it’s whoever was involved with it’s fault! Plus, we’re trying to do a non-fatal birth, right? That’s gotta count for something.”

“Ok…” The Queen replied, in a tont that told Thomas this wasn’t over at all. 

But, now he was feeling a little self-conscious about undressing with anyone around, even if she was technically a part of him. “Could you look away?” Thomas asked. “To make up for the entire… murdering deal.” He fibbed. 

“Where look then?” The Queen asked. “Necessary look. Me only able to see host.” 

“Um… try filtering through my mind.” Thomas offered, before being mortified by the implications. “Just don’t look anywhere too… NSFW. Or private.” He pleaded.

The Queen’s presence retracted, allowing Thomas to change in peace. While he thought using a cloak as a loincloth was a bit too cold(even though he remembered to keep his underwear on), especially with how naturally cold Hollownest was. He kept his shoes and socks on, though. 

The top was a bit better. It was a bit thinner than the bottom cloak, it more than made up for it with covering down to Thoma’s wait. It also had a hood, in case Thomas ever really wanted to go unnoticed (which he did. So he always had it up.)

Now that he was done, he realised he had completely forgotten that everyone in Hollownest had either a mask, or a mask-like face. He couldn’t reasonably go unnoticed if he didn’t have a mask.

And then he had one. It was a “normal” mask, with the top half being perfectly round before tapering off into a point at the bottom. While the eyes were at Thomas’s height, surprisingly enough, the mask still felt off. 

It was a bit… warm. Not in the “cozy up by the fire” warm, but the “just cooled metal warm.” And it had suddenly appeared in Thomas’s possession, which was never a good sign…

But Thomas held it against his face, and he felt it ‘attach’ to him. There wasn’t any straps or strings to attach to Thomas’s face, but it did. It held there, almost floating against Thomas’s skin. 

Freaking out a bit, Thomas immediately threw the mask away. It obeyed gravity like normal, and was flung to the ground, causing a thin creek of a crack to form from the bottom of the mask to the right eye.

Steeling himself, Thomas picked the mask back up and put it back on.

While it felt weird to have something almost floating against your face. With nothing connecting you to the mask it was just some warm thing obscuring your peripheral vision. In summary, Thomas was getting rid of it the first chance he got. 

And as Thomas began walking to the stagway,(carrying his clothes to appear busy) the young Queen grew curious. “What’s Radiance? Why both real/unreal? Connected to ‘infection’?”

“She’s a ‘higher being’ that rule over Hollownest a thousand or so years ago with a hive-mind, until the Pale King came and sealed her away. He did this by making everyone forget about her, so she was banished to the dream realm. So, not wanting to, well, die, she’s now trying to get people to remember her, thus putting them inside her hive-mind. Thomas mentally explained, not even skipping a step on his way.

“So, why real/unreal?” The queen asked. “What mean “unreal”?”

“Um… I found this video game a while ago that had all this lore in it. I’m pretty sure it’s accurate, since everything, except you, has been from that game. Except the drying rags.” Thomas replied. “So, until I was taken here, the Radiance was fictional, or ‘unreal’. However, I suppose the Radiance is real, so now she’s ‘non-fictional’. Which leads to all sorts of ethical quandaries.”

“What quandaries?”

“Definition of quandaries or what quandaries?” Thomas hoped he wouldn’t have another awkward conversation-

“Both.” The Queen replied, dashing all of Thomas’s hopes. 

You see, a xenomorph also had psychic powers, a hive-mind, and would kill at least one individual (their host), probably more if they wanted more ‘children’. Now, explaining it to a fully grown, adult Queen wouldn’t be such an issue, however the Queen he had before him right now was practically a child. So, Thomas was… hesitant to say the least. 

“Well, a quandary is a kind of question.” Thomas started off easy. “So, a moral quandary is a moral question.”

“And morals good things?” The Queen inquired.

“Not… exactly. Morals are basically… how you determine what’s right or wrong.” Thomas exposited, trying to surface up the base concept. “It doesn’t determine what’s easy, or even what’s best, but it is what’s a good thing to do.” 

“Ok,” The Queen confirmed. “moral quandaries/Radiance pose?” 

Now the tricky part. “It poses a moral quandary because…” Thomas thought for a moment, picking his words carefully. “she’s superseding the will of others.” 

“The will? Choices?” She clarified.

“No, not the choices, the will.” Thomas clarified back. “It takes a will to choose. If you supersede that will, not only can’t you make a choice, you can’t even conceive of making one to begin with.” He explained.

“Bad why? No idea choice, no harm.” The Queen innocently asked.

“It’s… complicated.” Thomas decided on. “You see, my morality comes from a human perspective. Your morality comes from xenomorphs before you. Not only can’t I not think about being unable to choose, I cannot conceive of any scenario where I cannot even think about making a choice.” 

Quickly retorting, she said, “Animals? Animals no choice. Animals cannot think choice.” 

“And that’s a good, but complicated question. However, that’s besides the point of something having a will of its own, and then something else takes that away.” He countered. 

“So, mind-control bad?” She asked.

“Yeah. Mind control bad.” Thomas finished. “And how convenient.” Thomas said, as he stood before the stagway. 

[bonniebird]

Prompts from 80s movies and movie franchises or movies / shows set in the 80s. Feel free to reblog and use or use these to make your own prompt list! :D

.

All we are is dust in the wind, dude.

We're in danger of flunking most heinously tomorrow, (Character).

You totally killed us, you evil metal dickweeds!

I work out all the time, and reaping burns a lot of calories.

Yes, Sir, Dude!...Yes, Sir, Sir, Dude!

I dunno. Philosophise with him!

Iron Maiden? Excellent!

69, Dude!

I totally possessed my Dad!

Remember when (Character) was a senior and we were freshmen?

This is not like I expected at all! We got totally lied to by our album covers.

I do not believe we will get Eddie Van Halen before we have a triumphant video.

The best time to be is now, and all’s ee can say is...let’s rock!

Be excellent to each other.

Strange things are afoot at the Circle K.

I believe our adventure through time has taken a most serious turn.

How's it going royal ugly dudes?

This should be most triumphant.

It's a history report, not a babe report.

Well, how can we have decent instruments when we don't really even know how to play?

Whoa. He didn't even card us, dude.

It seems to me the only thing you've learned is that Caesar is a salad dressing dude.

Gentlemen, we're history.

Party on, dudes!

Your step mom is cute though.

Remember when I asked her to the prom?

If you guys are really us, what number are we thinking of?

You killed (Character) you medieval dickweed!

Maybe it’s time we get Eddie Van Halen.

Maybe we should start learning how to play.

I can’t believe we just melvined Death!

You have had many counter-intuitive ideas over the years, but this is by far the counter-intuitivest of them all, dude!

Sometimes things don’t make sense until the end of the story.

You don’t just get to rock. You got to earn the right to rock.

Grandpa, is it true that Santa Carla's the murder capital of the world?

There are some bad elements around here.

Wait a second, let me get this straight. You're telling me we've moved to the murder capital of the world?

Don't ever invite a vampire into your house, you silly boy. It renders you powerless.

I bet you hate garlic, dontcha!

No, I like garlic! It's just a little much! It's raw garlic.

What, you don't like rice? Tell me (Character), how could a billion...people be wrong?

How are those maggots?

Maggots, (Character). You're eating maggots. How do they taste?

I think I should warn you all, when a vampire bites it, it's never a pretty sight. No two bloodsuckers go the same way. Some yell and scream, some go quietly, some explode, some implode, but all will try to take you with them.

Look at your reflection in the mirror. You're a creature of the night Michael, just like out of a comic book! You're a vampire (Character).

 Second shelf is mine. That's where I keep my rootbeers and my double-thick Oreo cookies. Nobody touches the second shelf but me.

 You think we just work at a comic book store for our folks, huh? This is just a cover; we're dedicated to a higher purpose. We're fighters for truth, justice, and the American way.

We're on the right trail. Flies and the undead go together like bullets and guns. Come on.

One thing about living in Santa Carla I never could stomach, all the damn vampires.

Now you know what we are, now you know what you are. You'll never grow old, (Character), and you'll never die. But you must feed!

Do you smell that? It smells like death and fungus. It's Vampire B.O.

I'm (Character), surfboard shaper and vampire hunter.

 A lot of valuable information can be gained by reading comic books.

I tried to eat that guy...do you realize that? Do you know what it's like for me to want to drink blood? Do you know how disgusting that is? I'm a vegetarian!

Did you know that lycanthrope or female werewolves, she-wolves, actually can change anytime they want to? They don't have to do it under a full moon. That's a myth…

We are awesome monster bashers.

Death by stereo!

Think of it more as a survival manual. There's our number on the back and pray you never need to call us.

Look at your reflection in the mirror. You’re a creature of the night, (Character), just like out of a comic book! You’re a vampire, (Character).

What's the good of being a ghost if you can't frighten people away?

I know just as much about the supernatural as I do about interior design.

I myself am strange and unusual’

Are you Night of the Living Dead under there? Like all bloody veins and pus?

I will live with you in this hellhole, but I must express myself.

A little gasoline… blowtorch… no problem.

These aren't my rules. Come to think of it. I don't have any rules.

I’ve seen 'The Exorcist' about 167 times and it keeps getting funnier every single time I see it!

Well, I've read through that handbook for the recently deceased. It says, 'live people ignore the strange and unusual. I, myself, am strange and unusual.

I’m the ghost with the most babe.

There's a word for people in our situation: ghosts.

You remind me of the babe.

I move the stars for no one.

You have no power over me.

It's further than you think. Time is short.

Your eyes can be so cruel.

It's only forever, not long at all.

If I thought that for one second that you would betray me, I would be forced to suspend you, head first, in the Bog of Eternal Stench.

It's only forever, not long at all.

I ask for so little. Just fear me. Love me. Do as I say, and I shall be your slave.

 Live without your sunlight, love without your heartbeat.

 It's a crystal...nothing more. But if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams. But this is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby.

Daddy, daddy, get me out of here. I, I'm underground.

 So, the Labyrinth is a piece of cake, is it? Well, let's see how you deal with this little slice.

I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down.

Oh, come, come, come, Hogbrain! I'm surprised at you, losing your head over a girl.

Give me the child.

I need you, (Character). I don't know why, but every now and again, for no reason at all, I need you, all of you.

Through dangers untold. And hardships unnumbered. I have fought my way here to the castle; beyond the goblin city, to take back the child that you have stolen. My will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom as great...

Say your right words, 'the goblins' said, and we'll take the baby to the castle, and you will be free!

How can I trust you now that you know you were taking me back to the beginning of the labyrinth?

 You say that so often, I wonder what your basis for comparison is?

You remind me of the babe. The babe with the power. The power of voodoo.

 I have sworn with my life's blood, none shall pass this way without my permission!

Well... May we have your permission?

You have to understand my position. I'm a coward. And (Character) scares me.

 And (Character), if she ever kisses you, I'll turn you into a prince.

Put that magic jump on me. Slap that baby, make him free.

If I found One-Eyed Willy’s rich stuff, I'd pay all my dad’s bills, so maybe, he could get to sleep at night.

I never felt so bad in my entire life

Is this supposed to be water?

I'm gonna hit you so hard that when you wake up your clothes will be out of style!

This is ridiculous. It’s crazy. I feel like I’m babysitting, except I’m not getting paid.

 I can’t tell if it���s an A sharp or if it’s a B flat!

More amazing than the time you saved those old people from that nursing home fire, right?

In fifth grade, I knocked my sister Edie down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog.

Goonies never say die!

(Character), God put that rock there for a reason... and I don't think you should move it.

There's... there's... there's... bullet holes... in the c-c-car!

What are you doing? Those tires cost $500. They're his most favorite thing in the world.

Is your mommy here?

Yeah, and I bet it was even more amazing than the time you ate your weight in Godfather’s pizza, right?

Oh, come on. Come on. Where are you? You are in the clouds and we are in a basement!

But the worst thing I ever done - I mixed a pot of fake puke at home and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then, t-t-then, I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa - and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, this was horrible, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.

That's what I said, booby traps!

Hello, sheriff. I'm at the Lighthouse Lounge, and I want to report, well, a murder.

 Cruisin the coast, down in some brews, but nooo... somebody's older brother had to go and screw it up... by flunking his driver's test.

You guys wanna go see a dead body?

This is my age. I'm in the prime of my youth and I'll only be young once.

I'm never gonna get out of this town. Am I, (Character)?

Oh, great! You brought the comb! What did you bring a comb for? You don't even have any hair!

Maybe you could come into the college courses with me.

I see me, and I don't like what I see, I really don't.

You do everything everyone tells you to, and that is the problem.

Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?

Don't mess with the bull, young man. You'll get the horns.

Two hits. Me hitting You. You hitting the floor.

Could you describe the ruckus, Sir?

I don't have to run away and live in the street. I can run away and go to the ocean, I can go to the country, I can go to the mountains.

I hate it. I hate having to go along with everything my friends say.

You wanna know what I did to get in here? Nothing… I didn’t have anything better To do.

I could disappear forever and it wouldn’t make any difference.

My god, are we gonna be like our parents?

We’re all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it; that’s all.

When you grow up, your heart dies.

You think he's funny? You think this is cute?... You go visit (Character) in five years. You'll see how goddamned funny he is.

What's wrong with you? Why don't you like yourself?

Do you know how popular I am? I am so popular. Everybody loves me so much at this school.

So you just stick to the things you know. Shopping, nail polish, your father's BMW and your poor, rich, drunk mother in the Caribbean!

Honey if you call and I'm not home I'll be at the gym or the gun club.

You yell at my kid like that again, I'm knockin' you out!

Are you crazy? You fed a baby chili!

Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads.

The future. Unbelievable. I gotta check this out, Doc.

Tell me about my future. I know I make it big, but do I become like a rich rock star or something?

Please, (Character), nobody should know too much about their own destiny.

Nobody! Calls me... chicken.

I'll get home, when I get home.

I went to a rejuvenation clinic and got a whole natural overhaul. They took out some wrinkles, did hair repair, changed the blood, added a good 30 to 40 years to my life. They also replaced my spleen and colon. What do you think?

Ahhh, I wouldn't know. I don't know what liquor smells like, because I'm too young to drink it.

(Character), he's in a '46 Ford, we're in a DeLorean. He'd rip through us like we were tin foil.

Oh, man, are you a sight for sore eyes; let me look at you.

(Character), you're acting like you haven't seen me in a week.

The time-traveling is just too dangerous. Better that I devote myself to study the other great mystery of the universe: women!

2015? You mean we're in the future?

Future? (Character), what do you mean? How can we be in the future?

Uh, (Character), um, I don't know how to tell you this, but I... you're in a time machine.

Listen son. You're going to be able to do a lot of things the other guys aren't.

It doesn't matter how you play the game, it's whether you win or lose. And even that doesn't make all that much difference.

What is it, gambling? Drugs? You know I'd really like to help you but I'm kind of tapped out this month. The IRS is coming down on me like it's some personal vendetta against Bobby Finstock.

There are three rules that I live by: never get less than twelve hours sleep; never play cards with a guy who has the same first name as a city; and never get involved with a woman with a tattoo of a dagger on her body. Now you stick to that, and everything else is cream cheese.

Listen, (Character). Do you know anything about a rash that's going around?

No... but I heard Mr. Murphy, you know, the shopteacher? Got his dick caught in a vacuum cleaner.

I told you, I blew a fuse when I totaled that electrical tower. I was checking out some daisies.

I swear to God if I was driving this thing we'd be home by now!

If I stay, those scientists will experiment on me like a guinea pig for the rest of my life.

Geez, I have no idea where we are. We got to get directions.

Ooh, a threat. Look, I'm really shaking!

How do you like that? The guy gets laid more times dead than I do alive.

We could call the cops, (Character), but you know where we'd be spending our weekend. In some... goddamned hot police station answering questions we don't know the answers to.

What kind of a host invites you to his house for the weekend and dies on you?

Look honey, (Character)’s dead, they guys that killed 'em are now after us, can we hide out at your place or what?

We didn't do this to him! Look at us! Do we look like the kind of people who could kill someone?

Yeah. I know that. You know that. Nobody else knows that.

Why are you shooting us? We're just friends of (Character)’s.

I'm not going to listen to this, I'm not going to hear this now.

I want to kill everyone. Satan is good. Satan is our pal.

I've never seen that. I've never seen anybody drive their garbage down to the street and bang the hell out of it with a stick. I-I've never seen that.

(Character), there's no doubt anymore. This is real. Your neighbors are murdering people. They're chopping them up. They're burying them in their backyard. Ray... This is Walter.

He can't come out until he resembles the man that I married.

Nobody knocks off an old man in my neighborhood and gets away with it.

Oh-ho. Got somebody tied up in the ol' cellar, have yah, Rube?

I'm gonna go do something productive. I'm gonna go watch television.

A thermostat on a home furnace; is that supposed to go to 5,000 degrees, you think?

I hate cul-de-sacs. There's only one way out, and the people are kind of weird.

Now they know that we know that they know that we know.

Safety is my middle name.

So they keep to themselves, can you blame them? They live next door to people who break in their house, AND BURN IT DOWN while they're gone for the day!

Just shut up and paint your goddam house!

I've been blown up, take me to the hospital.

You wanna take that out of your pocket? You wanna not steal that from Walter's house, please?

I'm only trying to take a nap! I'm only laying here with my eyes closed trying to keep some goddamn sleep!

I can see the news report now - they were a quiet family, kept pretty much to themselves. No one would have ever suspected them of foul play.

I'm telling you these people are Satanists. As I sit here, they are satanists. Look, look, the world is full of these kind of things - black masses, mutilations. Mutilations! The incubus, the succubus - I'm tellin' you, (Character) was a human sacrifice.

I don't know if you've noticed, but there's bars on the basement windows here.

Are you implying that you've been carrying that around in your shorts all day?

Well you heard them say they're leaving tomorrow morning? As soon as they're gone, I'm going over that fence, and I'm not coming back until I find a dead body.

You were up at the crack of dawn watching a dog poop.

Apparently their last house, it only... burned to the ground.

Last week when I was up on the roof with my telescope I saw them in their backyard.

Of course I know it's wrong to kill, but who told you?

I hope you took the grass out of the glove compartment.

I am thinking she is a virgin. Or at least she used to be.

I don't know about you, but I am planning to scream and run.

What's going on? Is he laughing?

(Character), we're going to have to ask you to surrender the robot.

Can you believe it's been five years since I've driven?

Back off, man. I'm a scientist.

He slimed me.

That's a big Twinkie.

I collect spores, molds and fungus.

Human sacrifice. Dogs and cats living together. Mass hysteria.

Why worry? Each one of us is carrying an unlicensed nuclear accelerator on his back.

Listen! You smell something?

I'm fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What do you mean, bad?

Silence, earthling! My name is Darth Vader. I am an extraterrestrial from the planet vulcan!

Why don’t you make like a tree and get outta here?

I guess you guys aren’t ready for that yet. But your kids are gonna love it.

It’s your kids, (Character)! Something’s gotta be gone about your kids!

Wait a minute, (Character). Are you telling me you built a time machine? Out of a DeLorean?

Hear this now: I will always come for you.

This is true love. You think this happens every day?

We’ll never survive.

Nonsense. You’re only saying that because no one ever has.

We’ll never succeed. We may as well die here.

No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt — no problem. There’s a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future, we can avoid that too. 

Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something.

I told you I would always come for you. Why didn’t you wait for me?

Well… you were dead. 

Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.

It’s not that bad. Well, I’m not saying I’d like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely.

I do not mean to pry, but you don’t by any chance happen to have six fingers on your right hand?

Do you always begin conversations this way?

Have you ever considered piracy? You’d make a wonderful Dread Pirate (Character).

If you’re in such a hurry, you could lower a rope or a tree branch or find something useful to do. Inigo: I could do that. I have some rope up here, but I do not think you would accept my help, since I am only waiting around to kill you.

That does put a damper on our relationship.

 You’ve done nothing but study swordplay?

Don’t worry, I won’t let it go to my head.

Let me explain… no, there is too much. Let me sum up.

 He didn’t fall? INCONCEIVABLE!

You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

 I can’t compete with you physically, and you’re no match for my brains.

You’re trying to kidnap what I’ve rightfully stolen.

It was 10 days to the wedding. The King still lived, but Buttercup’s nightmares were growing steadily worse.

See, didn’t I tell you she’d never marry that rotten Humperdinck?

Yes, you’re very smart. Shut up.

Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind. The end.

Nothing gave (Character) as much pleasure as ordering (Character) around.

As you wish.

You can’t hurt me. (Character) and I are joined by the bonds of love. And you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds, and you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords. And when I say you are a coward, it is only because you are one of the slimiest weaklings ever to walk the earth!

You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.

We are men of action. Lies do not become us.

Grandpa, maybe you could come over and read it again to me tomorrow.

There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in the world. It would be a pity to damage yours.

 I suppose you think you’re brave, don’t you?

You’ve been mostly dead all day.

It’s not my fault being the biggest and the strongest. I don’t even exercise.

You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces!

It comes to this. I love (Character). I always have. I know now, I always will.

Because you’ve always been so kind to me, and I won’t be seeing you again, since I’m killing myself once we reach the honeymoon suite.

Thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. While you’re at it, why don’t you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it.

Have fun storming the castle!

It's this stupid hat. I am telling you, it's totally blowing my best feature.

How many children are you friends with?

Yeah, the real world sucks, deal with it like the rest of us.

Touch my butt, I don't care!

Hope you guys are in shape. Lookin' at you, roast beef.

Okay, it's official. I'm never having kids.

So like, I wasn't totally focused in there or anything, but I'm pretty sure that mom was trying to bang her son.

No, but he went back in time.

He has to go back to the future because he's in the past, so the future is actually the present, which is his time.

This plan is way better. If I knew (Character) could knock out a Russian that would've been our plan in the first place.

Dude, you won a fight.

He's a child murderer!

Why are all these magnets losing their magnetism?

It is important to me that you feel safe. That you and your family feel safe. I want you to feel like this can still be your home.

(Character) has dumped me five times.

It’s finger-lickin’ good.

Nobody normal ever accomplished anything meaningful in this world.

If we’re both going crazy, then we’ll go crazy together, right?

You’re pretty cute, you know that?

Hey kiddo, would you like a balloon?

You act like you want me to be your friend and then you treat me like garbage.

Our children don’t live here anymore. You didn’t know that?

How do you know it’s not just a lizard?

We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it.

I may be a pretty shity boyfriend, but turns out I’m actually a pretty damn good babysitter.

Don’t try to be heroes. There is no shame in running.

Chances of success are 20-1.

That’s a rad shirt, man, Ocean Pacific?

We’re a team. Friends.

You’ve broken everything.

I mean, I feel like I’m losing my mind doing a drug deal with (Character), the queen of Hawkins High.

Are we gonna do this or are we gonna keep chitchatting like its your mommy’s book club?

In other good news, flattery works with me.

Your suffering is almost at an end.

Ever since you left, everything’s been a total disaster. For a while, we tried to be happy, normal. I know that’s impossible.

I don’t have my powers.

You were wearing a Weird Al shirt, which I thought was brave.

You received a doll in the mail- and it’s creepy.

If I play do I get one of those cool t-shirts.

You’re being sarcastic? She’s being sarcastic.

I was convinced I was put here for some other reason.

Maybe I can still help, even if it’s the last thing I ever do.

We will have the best spring break ever.

Hunt the freak, right?

Always the babysitter. Always the God damn babysitter!

I think we’re mad fools, the lot of. But if we don’t stop him, who will?

It is not me. It is you. You are the monster.

Actually, I think it’s a felony.

It would be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.

We’re the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game.

This year is my year. I can feel it.

Um, you know, just on a daily basis.

I say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor. But the Shire- is burning. So Mordor it is.

[returnn-of-the-mac]

How would the companions and leaders(Vanilla and DLC) react toSole effortlessly defeating a courser or Super Mutant?

This rq is also super old, sorry! I decided to be ambiguous about whether Sole had killed a Super Mutant or Courser (both were great ideas). The only companions I gave two sets of dialogue to depending on if it were a mutant or courser were Strong, X6, Father, Deacon, and Des. Please enjoy! :)

FO4 Companions React: Sole Effortlessly Killing a Super Mutant/Courser

Preston: You can kill these guys effortlessly too!? Damn, General, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?

Nick: [awestruck] That [Supermutant/Courser] stood no chance. Incredible work.

Codsworth: When did you get so strong, [sir/mum]!?

Piper: [half-serious] Are you sure you’re not a synth, Blue?

Curie: I would not expect a Vault-Dwelling, Pre-War ‘uman being weeth no combat training to pozess the same capabilities zat you ‘ave displayed time and time again. Your adaptability ees remarkable!

MacCready: Yeah…Remind me not to never get on your bad side.

Longfellow: [exasperated] I lugged this goddamn harpoon here for nothing. Ah well. This deserves a toast, yeah cap’n?

Danse: [impressed] That was an outstanding display of tact and power, soldier. To pull off a kill as effortlessly as you did too; you must hate those abominations as much as I do. Well done!

Maxson: It was noble of you to put that freak out of it’s misery.

Cait: Fuck yeah! That damn bastard deserved a good arse kickin’! Way to go!

Hancock: Ol’ Johnny’s gotta be trippin right now. [amazed] There’s no way that just happened. No way.

Gage: Damn, what a show! Wish I coulda joined in on the fun before you completely bashed its brains in.

Mags: Excellent. I find your ruthlessness admirable.

Nisha: You should have let me participate. Or do the job myself. No matter. At least I can still dismember the corpse.

Mason: Goddammit! I wanted that kill! Don’t hog all the fun!

Deacon: Woah! Green guy down! How did you do that!?

Deacon: You just milled killed a Courser! Holy shit, I’m glad we have you on our side.

Desdemona: One less Super Mutant we have to worry about…or smell.

Desdemona: The way you took out that courser…Deacon was absolutely right about you. We are so lucky to have you with us.

X6-88: Every day you manage to amaze me with you strength and capability.

X6-88: Are you aware that you just killed one of the Institute’s strongest assets? One of our kind? I have lost some respect for you, [sir/ma’am].

Father: The more of these disgusting creatures you kill, the better.

Father: [angry] How dare you murder one of our own!? Who do you think you are?

Strong: HUMAN STRONGER THAN STRONG BROTHERS. STRONG IMPRESSED.

Strong: HUMAN KILL COURSER!? HUMAN IS STRONG!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

raven-san, can we please have a wedding crashing where jade needs to marry this girl from another crime family to consolidate power and become the next head of the leech mob :)) but floyd's like I'M BORED and annoyed that his brother's being snatched up by a random chick, so he asks basketball bros, and azul, to help save jade?

This one is super long, so I added some extra sections and placed the rest of the wedding crashing below the cut!

***Spoilers for Jamil and Floyd’s Unique Magic!!***

"I object to this wedding...!"

Pre-Wedding Jitters

A call comes for the twins in the dead of night, without warning. It’s their parents with exciting news: they’re naming Jade as the next Don Leech. The catch? The Leech mob’s in the middle of a merger with the Worm mob, and he’ll have to marry Don Worm’s daughter to secure the deal.

Jade, ever the dutiful son, is honored by his future title and calmly agrees to the arrangement. On the other hand, Floyd’s annoyed by the idea, and can’t keep quiet about his irritation. He calls out to his twin in the darkness.

“... Ne, Jade.”

“Ee, Floyd?”

“Are you really okay with going through with this? You’re just gonna do what they said? Even though you don’t know the Worms at all? Even if you’ve never met that girl before?”

“It is a request coming directly from father and mother. How could I refuse them? And, furthermore... If I do not undertake this task, then it would fall to you, the next choice to inherit the title of Don Leech. I cannot allow that to come to pass--fufu. You do so enjoy your freedom, yes?”

“... Jade, you’re so dumb sometimes. What’ll happen to your freedom, then? Will you get so busy with being the big boss and being married... that you won’t have time to play anymore?”

“... Perhaps. But that is a sacrifice I am willing to make.”

That thought doesn’t sit well with Floyd--not at all.

“I trust that you will make your own fun of the situation,” Jade reassures him. “You always do.”

As the weeks pass, Floyd sees less and less of Jade around, since he has to prepare for the wedding. Jade reassures him that he’s doing just fine, but Floyd can see right through his lies. He can tell that Jade’s more frazzled than usual--there’s a lingering to his words, and a longing in his eyes, savoring every last bit of autonomy he has before his fate is forever sealed.

Floyd hates it. He hates being lied to by his own brother, and he hates feeling powerless to stop the wedding. Floyd’s so angry that he develops this murderous aura in the weeks leading up to the wedding, which makes everyone around him shy away.

One day, he gets sick of being in the water--it’s a reminder of the wedding to come--so Floyd plays basketball on land to vent. He ends up chomping down so hard that he deflates a ball, then dunks another basketball so hard, he breaks the net.

He sprawls out on the ground and angrily shouts at the sky. His basketball bonks him on the head... and that’s when an idea hits him: maybe he can’t stop the wedding alone, but no one said he couldn’t phone some friends.

Assembling the Dream Team

Floyd first dials up Azul, who agrees to help after some whining and signing a contract agreeing to pay Azul handsomely for his services (... although truthfully, the octopus does want to help Jade, but doesn't immediately agree to do it because of his pride as a businessman).

Floyd also calls his old basketball buddies for help! Jamil and Ace are much more adamant than Azul, but Floyd strongarms them into pitching in. ("Umihebi-kun, Kani-chan, if you don't help me rescue Jade, I'll get suuuper mad, you know? I don't think you'll like me when I get mad. Moray eels are strong hunters, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem for me to track you guys down and give you a good squeeze~" "OKAY, OKAY, WE'LL DO IT!!")

Together, the four boys meet up to scheme of a way to disrupt the wedding without jeopardizing the Leech mob's future. Floyd actively leads the discussion, allowing his hidden genius to come to the surface.

Ace doesn’t contribute much to the strategy (laid out by Azul), but he does keep the spirit up with some jokes. Meanwhile, Jamil provides snacks for them when they work late into the night (though he keeps passing semi-glares to Azul whenever the octopus compliments him or tries to be friendly).

In preparation for the crashing, Azul brews some potions to give Jamil and Ace so they can take on temporary merforms. After all, the wedding will be underwater, in the Coral Sea, and they’ll need tail fins.

The date of destiny draws ever closer... and Floyd's never been so excited to cause chaos in his whole life.

The Crashing - Team Azul & Jamil

They split into two pairs on the day of the wedding—Azul and Jamil, and Floyd and Ace. Floyd uses his position as the future son-in-law to Don Worm to arrange a meeting between himself and the don... except Azul and Jamil will show up instead.

Don Worm shows up to the meeting in his finest clothes (which is very little, given that he’s a merman), sounding a bit annoyed the sudden summoning. “Make this quick, I’ve got to go see my baby girl’s big day... Wait. You fellas aren’t the F. Leech boy.”

“No, we aren’t, sir. We are his representatives... Proxies, if you will,” Azul insists, giving his warmest and most welcoming smile. He uses a tentacle to tug on Jamil’s tail, forcing him to smile too. “You see, there is an important business matter we needed to discuss with you on behalf of Floyd.”

“Hoh? And what would that be?”

“I believe my business associate would be better off explaining the matter than myself.” Azul gestures to Jamil, who has his head down.

“Oi, what’s with you? Don’t you know who I am, boy? It’s rude to not look your elders in the eye when they are speaking to you!! Show me the respect I deserve, from one professional to another!!”

“My apologies, sir.” Jamil looks up, locking eyes with the mob boss. “... Is this better?”

“Yes, that’s...”

“Snake Whisper.”

Don Worm suddenly goes glassy-eyed and slack-jawed. Azul claps at the sight, showering his partner with compliments. “As expected of the talented Jamil-san! Even one look from you can bring a mafia lord to his downfall. Truly, your Unique Magic is most impressive!”

“Save your flattery for later.”

Azul’s lips curl into a smirk as he whips out a golden contract from his briefcase and offers it to the don. “Now then, if you wouldn’t mind, sir... sign on the dotted line.”

The Crashing - Team Floyd & Ace

Ace and Floyd rush to the wedding venue, their tails cutting through the water like knives as they swim at a breakneck pace. Ace can barely keep up with Floyd, who surges far ahead.

“H-Hey, should we really be barging in like this?! Don’t mob families have weapons and other dangerous stuff? Is there a backdoor we can take instead? Hello?! Floyd-senpai, are you listening to me?!” (He isn’t.)

The open, underwater comes into view, and Floyd barrels in without any hesitation, tearing right through some decorations and knocking over the wedding cake with his tail. A loud CRASH! echoes through the waters, drawing eyes to him.

Jade stares at his brother from the altar—wide eyed, but a mirthful smile on his lips. Floyd waves to him, and then to his mom and dad in the crowd of guests. “Hiii, Jade! I’m here to pick you up now.”

The Worm girl starts sobbing, wailing something about how her special day’s been ruined, and where is her papa to put an end to this? At her signal, security guards, and some of the rougher looking guests—Worm family associates—lunge at Floyd, claws and teeth out. A few of them have produced wands, and what seem to be guns—loaded with harpoons.

“Bind the Heart!” Objects and stray magic go flying in all directions, hitting both people and wedding decorations. Cloth tears, columns crumble—but it’s one man against many, and he can only bind so many hearts before the blot starts to stack.

Ace makes it just in time, sending their foes and their weapons hurtling through the water with a blast of wind. “This is why I said to be careful, dammit! Your Unique Magic’s such a crapshoot—don’t just use it whenever, or you’ll be sushi!!!”

“Ahahahah! Kani-chan’s being all heroic today! That’s so cute. Don’t worry, I can play my part, too...!!”

Using his tail, Floyd hooks around a drifting merman and chucks him straight into another. They collide with a CRACK!—but Floyd barely registers it. He’s already bolting off, grabbing heads and smashing them together, slicing through others like a knife through butter.

There’s a crazed, frenzied look to him, gleeful laughter cutting through the waters and mixing with the Worm bride’s screeching. I forgot how scary Floyd-senpai can be, Ace realizes. (Jade and Floyd’s parents are cheering for him from their seats.)

Jade looks quite proud of his brother, even laughing along to the brutal slaughterfest. His bride stares at him incredulously. “Stop that brute! He’s ruining MY special day!!”

“No,” Jade replies calmly. “I don’t think I will. This is far too amusing to let it end so soon.”

She lets out a frustrated scream and launches herself at her groom, hands going for his throat. The Worm girl is slammed back with a strong hit to her gut, courtesy of Jade’s tail.

She flies back, slamming into a column—and feels a tail wrapping around her and squeezing tight. Constricting her to the point where it was difficult to breathe. A livid mermaid glares down at her, teeth bared in a snarl.

“No one lays a hand on my children,” Mama Leech declares. “No one.”

From the corner of her eye, the Worm girl can see that Jade has cast off his bow tie and flitted over to Floyd, embracing happily in a battlefield adorned with red ribbons trailing through the water. Her vision is abruptly blocked off by a broad-shouldered merman wearing a grimace.

“Now then, what shall we do with this one?” Papa Leech wonders aloud—though from his tone of voice, he has nothing good in store.

The Aftermath

“You’re all fish bait when daddy hears about this...!” the Worm girl warns, her words raspy. “Th-The merger won’t go through...! There’ll be war between the Leeches and the Worms...!”

A loud throat clearing comes from behind. “Fortunately, that won’t be happening.”

Azul and Jamil make their appearance, the octopus merman smugly showcasing a contract. “Ashengrotto—Azul Ashengrotto, legal and business extraordinaire at your service, Don Leech and Lady Leech.”

Papa Leech grunts. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

“This?” Azul’s smirk widens. “Why, it’s a prenuptial stating that, in the case that an act of violence is enacted by the bride toward the groom, the marriage is considered null and void... and the bride’s family assets are to be claimed by the groom. Signed by Don Worm himself.”

“Wh-What?! Impossible!! How did you get daddy to sign such a stupid deal?!”

“Oh,” Jamil says nonchalantly, “we have our ways.”

“So... Uh, Jade-senpai’s still gonna be the next Don Leech?! And he’s gonna be in charge of an even bigger and richer family... How is that any better than the situation before?! You’re just giving him more resources for committing crimes!”

At that moment, two hands come down on Ace’s shoulders, causing him to freeze up.

“Kani-chaaaaan! Everyone!! Thanks so much for your help~”

“Yes, you have my sincerest thanks, Ace-san, Jamil-san... Azul.”

“It is my pleasure to assist such VIP clients. Ah, but there remains the matter of my promised payment—” (Jamil and Ace internally groan at Azul’s words.)

“Payment?” Don Leech scoffs. “After the ballsy operation you boys pulled off today... I’m more inclined to give you job offers instead of a one time sum. How do you lads feel about being hired as the Leech family’s personal lawyer, interrogator, and... well, whatever the heart one is good at.”

“My, my! Such a generous and lucrative offer—“

“There is no way I’m accepting that, especially if that means working with Azul.”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I’m good at lots of stuff!! I’m the one that saved Floyd’s tail fins, is no one gonna acknowledge that?!”

“You did amazing, sweetie!!” Mama Leech chirps—her tail grip tightening until the Worm girl passes out. Ace leaps back in fright. “As a reward, why don’t you let me give you a hug?”

“S-STAY BACK!!”

“Ahahahah! Everyone’s getting along so well, Jade. Isn’t this fun? You wouldn’t be able to enjoy this if you had gone to get hitched.”

“Fufufu. You are correct, Floyd. How sad it would have been if I were to miss out on touching moments such as this. From the bottom of my heart... I thank you for thinking of me, and for rushing to my aid. I could not have asked for a better brother.”

... What Floyd doesn’t know is that this was all according to keikaku Jade’s own machinations. He would never take the order to marry lying down—but he couldn’t outright defy it without immediate consequences, either.

Thank the Great Seven Jade has reliable puppets friends to help him out of a pinch. I’ll be certain to put the additional funds we have gained to good use... Perhaps to start a little mushroom farm.

[firestorm717]

"We must be near the Cross," said Stephen, looking out the window... there, in one of the pools of light among [the trees] stood a horseman. The postboy caught sight of him at the same moment, reigned in, and called back to the chaise behind, "It's Butcher Jeffrey, Tom. Shall ee turn around?"

"There's two more of un behind us, terrible great murdering devils. Do ee bide still, Amos, and be meek. Mind master's horses, and tip 'em the civil."

The quick determined clip of hooves, and Sophia whispered, "Don't shoot, Stephen."

Glancing back from the open window, Stephen said, "My dear, I have no intention of shooting. I have - " But now here was the horse pulled up at the window, its hot breath steaming in, and a great dark form leaning low over its withers, shutting out the moonlight and filling the chaise with the civilest murmur in the world, "I beg your pardon, sir, for troubling you - "

"Spare me," cried Stephen. "Take all I have - take this young woman - but spare me, spare me!"

"I knew it was you, Jack," said Sophia, clasping his hand. "I knew directly. Oh, I am so glad to see you, my dear!"

— Patrick O'Brian, H.M.S. Surprise

Stephen pretending he's a helpless little damsel being waylaid by a highwayman when he knows it's Jack Aubrey absolutely SENDS ME 😂 It's like they've rehearsed this exact scenario in bed.

[ao3feed-izuku-midoriya]

Just Do It, Go for It

Just do it, go for it (Only one life to live, so choose wisely) by BucketOfMud

Izuku didn't expect U.A was going to be easy. No-sir-ee, he knew how life worked better then that, he would have to push back against everything to make it. What he didn't expect was to be thrown in a insane game where he and his classmates are pushed to the breaking point, attempting to get them to kill each other. Who will be the first to break? Who will survive this killing game? (Danganronpa: Trigger happy havoc setting)

Words: 798, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: Gen, Multi

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Class 1-A, Uraraka Ochako, Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Sensei | All For One, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Other Character Tags to Be Added

Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Midoriya Izuku & Uraraka Ochako, Class 1-A & Class 1-A, Class 1-A & Midoriya Izuku

Additional Tags: Crossover, Alternate Universe - Dangan Ronpa Fusion, Honey the kids are killing each other, Lots of Murder, Background relationships will be mostly pre-killing game if included at all, Murder Mystery, Murder, Memory Loss, Angst and Tragedy, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hope vs. Despair, Some plot points are planned out, but I dont have a lot of plans so dont expect regular or consistant updates

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30413853

[sleepymccoy]

Now I'm aware it doesn't fit in at all with their timeline, but i wanted to write this out regardless!

From wikipedia: According to the Hebrew Bible, God commands Abraham to offer his son Isaac as a sacrifice. After Isaac is bound to an altar, a messenger from God stops Abraham before the sacrifice finishes, saying "now I know you fear God." Abraham looks up and sees a ram and sacrifices it instead of Isaac.

-

"They want me to climb a mountain," Aziraphale bitched.

Crowley frowned, a tune that hadn't been written yet flitted across his mind. "Climb a mountain? Why does that ring a bell?" He hummed a few notes, but Time took it from him before he could land it. 

Aziraphale looked at him oddly. "I've no idea," he said mightily. "Listen, I know it's not anything like what we do, but would you?"

"What?"

Aziraphale pouted beautifully. "Do the mountain miracle for me, please? I'll make it up to you."

"No!"

So Crowley found himself slithering up the mountain. He'd taken his snake form to be unnoticed by the man he was sent to follow. Apparently God had asked the guy to do something and Aziraphale just had to make sure he did it. I'm sure it wouldn't be anything too much, I'm just there as posterity really. Just watch and make sure they don't get eaten by bears or something.

Crowley was pretty sure there were no bears in this country.

The man walked steadily, not taken by the exuberance of his son. Crowley wasn't watching them closely, he was distracted finding the best path up the mountain. His snake body wasn't made for the speed they kept, but he managed to pace well enough. He hoped the mountain wasn't massively tall.

They reached a plateau, a flat rock with a raise in the middle. Crowley hunkered down behind a bush to keep an eye on things. Just gotta make sure they did what was asked. He wished he knew what he was watching for, but Aziraphale hadn't known either. 

The father and son spoke briefly as the father built an altar from the wood he'd carried up the mountain. Then the son asked what they were here to sacrifice and the father began to cry as he lied in his answer. 

Crowkey watched, aghast, as the father bound his son to the altar, working through his tears. The truth became evident as the man stood and pulled a knife from his side.

Crowley shifted into his form, pulling a white robe into being across him. 

"Wheeeyyy, hey hey hey, oh boy what're you doing?" Crowley cried out as he stepped from behind the bush. 

The two froze. The son had not refused his father, but his wracking sobs stilled in surprise. The father turned and looked at Crowley, eyes wide and panicked. "What is this, Lord?" The father asked.

"Oh I'm not Lord, no no, I'm, um, some angel," Crowley dodged. He miracled a halo that was actually just a shiny disc of gold leaf behind his head. "Tra la la," he proved.

Tears ran unbidden down the fathers face as he tightened his grip on his very large knife, how had he hidden that? "I do as I am bid, Lord, do you bid me?" He asked miserably.

"Father-" the boy coughed, the sound utterly wretched.

"Oh, piss," Crowley admitted as he realised he was going exactly against what Aziraphale had asked. Well, blast him. Crowley was here and there would be no murder today. "Um, listen, God has sent me to say, ah, chill out!" He grinned widely, hoping it came across more confident than he was. "All good, bidding done, you've done it!"

He gave them a hopeful double thumbs up.

"I have?" The father repeated weakly. 

"Yep, all a big test and you passed, sir-ee! Great job, really very commendable. You can put the knife down."

"Oh," the father sighed. The knife lowered slowly, then clattered to the ground as it was finally dropped. The father fell to his knees and began to pray. "Thank you, Lord, thank you for this gift."

Crowley flicked his fingers and the binds undid on the boy. "Are you okay?" He asked.

The son knelt by his father and prayed also, but he looked at Crowley as he did. "Thank you, Lord," the son said. Crowley felt a shiver pass through him, he hadn't been prayed to before and he felt it keenly. 

"Alright," Crowley snapped, interrupting both his musings and the ongoing repeated thanks in front of him. They faced him fully, tears finally drying. "Look, I know you fear God and all, but really, killing your kid? C'mon, man."

"I love my Lord," the father insisted.

"You fear your Lord, it's not the same," Crowley condescended. He went to put his hands in his pockets but these robes didn't have them so he just sort of skittered down his thigh for a beat. He did it again to make it look intentional. Time to leave, perhaps. "Protect each other, you're what you have in this land," he said as he turned to go. 

"There must be a sacrifice, it was foretold," the father said, interrupting his attempted departure. 

"Right," Crowley agreed. He turned back to face them. "Um." Crowley thought for a beat, then waved at the bush he'd been standing by. "Here is a sheep, God would like you to kill this sheep," he said, indicating the sheep clearly. "Yep. Please do that, it's very important." The sheep began to walk but got its horns stuck in the bush ridiculously. It made a strangled sheep noise and kicked a leg, stumbling like a fool. Crowley glared at it for a beat before rolling his eyes and waving his arm at it confidently. "It's meant to be doing that."

"The ram?" The father asked.

"Yeah it's a bad, bad ram," Crowley said. "See the horns? That's demon-y, and we angels here hate demons." He checked his gold disc miracle was still up.

Crowley stood awkwardly as the father and son together manhandled the sheep that until a moment ago had been peacefully grazing a few kilometers away into the altar. He wondered how to best leave, he couldn't really snake out in front of them. He couldn't fly as his wings were black and that was beyond miracling. He would probably just stroll off, that seemed the least suspicious. Perhaps he could time it for when they weren't looking, it could come across angelic then. 

Crowley looked away as they slaughtered the beast, it was unpleasant to see that.

"Is my Lord pleased?" The father asked. Crowley looked back and winced at the sheer amount of blood staining the wood and rock.

Crowley sighed. God really had them twisted around Her finger. He felt a swell of pity and kindness. "Yeah sure, God's real chuffed. You both did great, good job," he said generously. "We're all really proud of you upstairs."

The pair began to cry again and knelt to return to their prayer. 

"Um," Crowkey said awkwardly. He felt quite a lot like he was imposing now. "Aah, a blessing on your house and name and all that, yeah," he murmured. The pair ignored him in their prayers.

"Alright, have a good day," Crowley said with as much blasé as he could pack into the words. He turned and left, trotting off down the treacherous slope. He glanced up as he went, peering unimpressed at the skies. "What the fuck?" He asked no one in particular. 

He should maybe give Aziraphale a heads up.

[hunter-the-sad-skeleton]

“Award Ceremony: AKA; Old Director’s Revenge.”

Hunter smiled, sitting in the darkness by a table, under a lone spotlight-the only one she had ever been in in her life-and folded her hands in her lap patiently. “Come on, buddy! I’ve done a lot for ya, ya can spare one eensy weensy, tiny winy, miniscule timepiece, right?” Hunter asked, voice slowly slipping into insanity. Hatkid shook her head no.

“I need them to get home, Miss Burkes. If ya don’t mind, I need that timepiece now and I’ll be outta your-” Hatkid started.

“Oh? Truly? After everything I’ve done-Everything I’ve given you despite what LITTLE my section of this studio has to offer-you can’t part with one timepiece depsite already having-what, 15?! Sorry, buddy, But if ya want it back, I’ll have to be COLD AND LIFELESS ON THE FLOOR, CAUSE I SURE AS PECK AM NOT HANDING OVER THE ONE THING THAT COULD SALVAGE MY CAREER. JOEY, TIME FOR PLAN B!!!!!” Hunter snapped, eyes almost looking like kaleidoscopes.

“B-But you said that was in case of emer-” Joey started.

“PLAN B, NOW!!!!!!!” Hunter yelled.

“But-” Joey started.

“FINE!!!! I’LL DO IT MYSELF!!!! WHY ARE ALL CROWS SO PECKING USELESS?!?!?” Hunter snapped, shutting the lights off once again, eventually being replaced by a singular bright light alternating between blue and red.

“A-A-A-A b-b-b-bomb?!?” Hatkid yelped.

“RECOGNISE THIS LIL’ BOMB~? I, *HEHE* ‘BORROWED’ IT FROM THE CONDUCTOR’S SET~!! THIS TIME THOUGH, IT’S ATTACHED TO YOU INSTEAD OF HIS WORTHLESS TRAIN~!! IT’S GONNA BLOW IN A FEW MINUTES, SO YA BETTER HURRY AND EITHER USE ONE OF YOUR BELOVED TIMEPIECES TO REWIND BEFORE THE BOMB WAS WIRED AND AGREE TO LET ME KEEP THE TIMEPIECE OR FIND A WAY TO DEFUSE THE BOMB~!! YOUR CHOICE, ‘LASS’~!!!!” Hunter cackled.

The Conductor peeked out of one of the sides at the arena. “Hunter?!? What’s The Meaning Of This?!?” he snapped.

“CROWS, KEEP ‘EM AT BAY WHILE I HANDLE THE KID!!!!!” Hunter ordered, eyes still rippling with anger and emotion.

Grooves peeked out the other side of the arena, shocked at the events occuring before him. “Hunter, darlin’, I’m sure we can talk this out if ya would just calm dow-” Grooves started.

“SHOVE IT, TUNA BREATH!!!!!!!” Hunter snapped.

“LASS!!!! THAT IS NAE HOW WE-” The Conductor started.

“SHOVE IT, DI!!!!!!” Hunter yelled.

The Conductor’s heart stopped for a moment. “Conductor darlin’, get your head in the game! We need to help the little darlin’ out!!!” Grooves called.

“Aye, but how...?!?” The Conductor called back halfheartedly. Grooves tilted his head in concern.

“Darlin’, are you okay...?” Grooves called.

The Conductor shook his head. “Aye, ‘M fine. Yer on figuring out how to apprehend Hunter and I’ll find a defuser for the bomb.” The Conductor said.

(Timeskip a bit!)

Hunter hopped back onstage as Hatkid fell to one knee, catching her breath. “Awww, what’s wrong, ‘Darling’~? Ya can outrun a train set to explode, but ya can’t outrun a crow whose growth was stunted~? How sad can ya get~?” Hunter taunted.

“NOW, CONDUCTOR, DARLIN’!!!” Grooves ordered. Hunter yelped in surprise as The Conductor hopped over the side, rolling into the arena and over to Hatkid, defusing the bomb with ease.

“YOU LITTLE PECKNECK!!!” Hunter growled. As Hunter was about to run at The Conductor, two flippers grabbed under her arms, holding her back. “HEY!!! WHAT’S THE BIG IDEA?!?” Hunter snapped.

“Not this time, darlin’!!!” Grooves said, holding her back. Hunter flailed her legs around in an attempt to get lose, but it wasn’t working.

“Lass-” The Conductor started, but Hunter didn’t make any motion or anything to show she was listening. “Lass-” He started over, still the same result. “HUNTER PLATINUM BURKES, STOP YER SQUIRMING THIS INSTANT BEFORE I BREAK YER LEGS SO THAT YE DO!!!!!!” The Conductor yelled, voice echoing slightly. Hunter stopped at the voice raise, having heard him raise his voice before, but never to THAT level.

“Yes sir.” Hunter squeaked.

“Good. Cause I wouldae, had yer not stopped.” The Conductor snapped. He squatted down to her height, scowl clear as day on his face, despite the lack of eyes. “Now then; START. TALKING. NOW.” The Conductor growled.

“How much do I need to dumb it down?” Hunter scoffed, rolling her eyes. Hunter yelped as The Conductor grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to make eye contact despite not having eyes.

“LASS, DONNAE PUSH ME BUTTONS. THIS IS SERIOUS. YE ALMOST MURDERED A CHILD. THAT COULD GET YER IN LEGAL TROUBLE.” The Conductor growled.

“Like YOU TWO are any better.” Hunter scoffed.

“LASS-” The Conductor started.

“What does she mean?” Hatkid asked, confused.

“Oh, that’s right!! They never told ANYONE HOW I split UP FROM THEM!!” Hunter said, faking cheerfulness.

“Lass, that was years ago, we’ve apologized for it multiple ti-” The Conductor started.

“YOU GAVE NO WARNING, CONNIE!!!!!! AT LEAST GROOVES WAS GONNA PUT IT NICELY!!!!!! BUT NO, YA HAD TO BE A HUGE PECKNECK ABOUT IT AND NOT SOFTEN THE BLOW WHATSOEVER!!!!!” Hunter barked.

“What does she mean?” Hatkid asked, worried.

“Lass, it doesnae mat-” The Conductor started.

“They cast ya in REBOOTS, kid~!!” Hunter butted in.

Hatkid’s thoughts went spiraling. “What...?” Hatkid gasped. Hunter giggled, sounding more unhinged than joyful.

“Yes sir-ee~!!! I helped them out with the originals, but then I got my own studio, so I got kicked from them in fear of-what were your words again, Conductor~?” Hunter taunted. The Conductor’s gaze fell to the floor. “Oh yeah~!!!! ‘we donnae want yer to be stealin any of our story ideas lass, so yer getting removed from our projects’~!!!!!!!!” Hunter grinned maliciously.

“Darlin’, me and The Conductor here have grown past that-besides, the darlin’ there did as fine a job you did, maybe even better!” Grooves grinned.

“Ooooooh, so I wasn’t good enough?!” Hunter barked. Grooves frowned.

“Ya know that’s NOT what I meant, darlin’.” Grooves scolded.

“Oh really?” Hunter growled.

“Lass, that’s-” The Conductor started.

“I’m sure the only reason that your movies got such a high rating was because penguin representation is so low nowadays that penguins were happy to see themselves in the entertainment that they enjoy~!!” Hunter mocked.

“Lass-” The Conductor repeated.

“Peck, I bet that if ya didn’t take the ‘little darlin’ ‘s debt away, she wouldn’t have helped ya to begin with~!!” Hunter teased. Grooves frowned slightly.

“Lass-” The Conductor growled.

“I’m sure she only helped ya outta pity~!!!” Hunter sneered.

“LASS, THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH FROM YOU!!!!!!” The Conductor snapped. Hunter frowned. 

“It’s the truth and ya know it, Con.” Hunter grumbled.

“What HAPPENED to ye, lass?! Ye used to be so kind, caring, upbeat-even yer colours were brighter...! What happened...?” The Conductor asked.

“What happened...? What HAPPENED? What HAPPENED?!?!? MAYBE WHAT HAPPENED WAS THAT AFTER TAKING CARE OF MY FAMILY SINCE I WAS SIX, I WAS LOOKING FOR SOMEONE TO BE PROUD OF ME!!!!!! GROOVES WAS EASY TO PLEASE, BUT YOU-THE ONE PERSON I HAD THAT WAS CLOSE TO A FATHER FIGURE-I COULD NEVER MAKE YOU PROUD OF ME, NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRIED!!!!” Hunter barked. “I JUST wanted to amount to something, and I did, for a few months, but then ya went and ripped it away from me....! It DEMOLISHED my mental state, but therapy never helped. I always thought it was my fault-that I did something out of line-but soon enough, I realized that I wasn’t to blame, but it was you two. So I held a grudge...And that all was kept bottled up until...well, now...” Hunter explained.

“Ye...wanted me to be proud of ye...?” The Conductor gasped.

“Stupid, I know...” Hunter scowled.

“Wait, you never had parents?” Hatkid asked sadly.

“No, all I had were lumps of feathers that were poor excuses for parents. Like, yeah, they’d do stuff to keep me alive ‘n’ stuff, but only the bare minimum.” Hunter scoffed. Hunter chuckled darkly. “At least I kept the Hookshot I got from Train rush...!” Hunter chuckled sadly. The Conductor’s heart stopped.

“Lass, ye didn’t-” The Conductor started.

“I did....! It didn’t work though...Darn low ceilings...” Hunter chuffed. The Conductor nodded at Grooves and he put Hunter down gently.

“I trust ye not to do anything dumb.” The Conductor said, kneeling down to her height. “Donnae break that trust.” He warned. He pulled her into a hug, patting her on the back.

as The Conductor got up, Hunter got up, pulling out a knife. “CONDUCTOR, LOOK-” Grooves started before getting interrupted by an electric zap sound. Hunter dropped onto the floor, out cold.

“Sorry I had to do that, Lass. Sometimes, ye cannae reason yer way outta things.” The Conductor lamented.

“A zap disc...?” Hatkid asked.

“Leftover from one of me older movies; Eggtrocities up on spy tower. I kept ‘em in case I’d need ‘em in future. Wish I didnae have to use it on her, but some people just donnae wanna see reason.” The Conductor sighed.

“What’re we gonna do when she wakes up, Conductor, darlin’?” Grooves asked.

The Conductor took a deep breath. “Apologize.” He stated. “Apologize, and make it up to her.” The Conductor said.

“It’s....a little late for that, darlin’.” Grooves winced. The Conductor giggled and Hatkid smiled, recognizing it.

The Conductor pulled out a timepiece. “Is it now~? Lass, do ye mind if we~?” He asked.

“Nah! You’re all fun to be around! Besides, it’s for Hunter! She deserves better!” Hatkid beamed.

“Aye, that she does, Lass.” The Conductor smiled.

Hunter curled up into a ball, snoozing softly.

“That she does....” The Conductor smiled softly.

[grumpyhedgehogs]

Draw String

Summary: Vanya always wanted to be a hero.

Notes: A little idea that's been kicking around in my head for a few days. Warnings for suicide, blood, violence.

Part 2 Here.

~

The concert is horrifying. Somewhere under the glow and the white eyes and the stillness of her face, Vanya is screaming.

Her suit turns white and her skin burns where the cloth touches her. Her glow gets brighter, brighter, her notes coming faster, and Vanya isn’t in control of her hands. She’s never been so connected to the music and yet so adrift before. It’s like there’s someone else steering her body.

The violin turns white.

The power courses through her veins and no matter what she tries Vanya cannot escape it. She can feel it throbbing in her temples, surging to her fingertips, threading its way through her music.

All she ever wanted- attention, powers, her music- it tastes like ash in her mouth.

She can feel them coming, knows they are here in that way she always had. Their presences are pushing at the edges of her mind; they should have been warm, comforting, familial. But all they ever were was cold and judgmental and suffocating. The power inside snarls at her family and Vanya wants to cry.

She always knows when they are near; they’ve never realized when she was gone. They probably don’t understand even now, how far gone she really is. Vanya doesn’t know who it is that’s making this music, but it’s not her. It’s the white violin, guiding her hands, it’s her child self screaming for vengeance, it’s Leonard’s insidious voice twisting her lips into a smirk.

Now everyone can see her but it’s not her and Vanya wishes she’d never set foot in this concert hall.

All eyes on me- let the show begin.

Her light is blinding now, the music coming faster and faster The notes sweep her consciousness away and Vanya falls into their roiling depths, drowning. Her vision tunnels, her hearing is muffled as if by cotton in her ears. Vanya is- Vanya is falling deep, deep down inside a well which opened in her chest. She can’t see the bottom. The melody flows around her, fills her mouth when she tries to scream, flooding her lungs, smothers her gasps for help.

And the white violin plays on.

And oh, she tries, she tries- she grasps for anything, anyone who will help her drag herself back. She thinks of Five and his return, of Klaus and his fearful, dilated eyes, of Ben, sweet Ben gone forever, of Diego and his little smirk of pride when he hit a bullseye for the first time when they were six, of Luther who only ever wanted to save the world even at the expense of those he was supposed to protect.  She thinks of Allison, Allison, Allison who is staring at her with something too much like pride. Vanya screams for her sister and her music muffles it.

In another life, Vanya pulls herself together enough to complete the herculean task of dropping her bow from numb fingers. In another life, she smashes her own violin at her feet and the impact shatters the weapon into so many wooden splinters. In another life, the powers, the glow, the voice of her younger self, fade to the back of Vanya’s mind, and she collapses, grief-stricken but triumphant, into Allison’s arms.

Except this isn’t any other life. And Vanya does not do any of that.

She watches, as helpless and silent as she made her own sister, as her brothers prepare for an attack Vanya knows will be futile. She tries to call out and warn them, but she can’t push the words passed twitching lips which aren’t her own.

You’re nothing. You are worthless.

Maybe she is. She’d wished for powers, for her time in the spotlight, for the recognition of her family all her life, and now she has it Vanya can’t even get it right.

Fear clouds her thoughts and if this body were still hers her throat would constrict, her eyes would water, her muscles would lock. But the body’s arms are loose and limber, the knees bend and sway, the hair lifts in an unnatural breeze. Somewhere inside, Vanya is locked away just like Sir Reginald always wanted.

Vanya is going to watch a stranger with her own face kill her family and smile all the while.

I always wanted to be a hero.

People with powers save other people. Leonard had told her something like that once- before she knew he was Harold, before she knew he was vile. She wishes her skin would crawl at just the thought of him, but the body is calm and serene and no goosepimples rise.

But Leonard- Harold, Harold Jenkins, he’s a murderer and you killed him, what have you done? - was right about heroes.

They don’t hurt people. They save them.

But at what cost, she’d asked him then. She’d thought she’d understood then, what it cost to save the world, to be special.

Now she knew.

The well inside is deep and dark and Vanya just wants to rest. It would be so easy to curl up in this cold darkness and let the white violin play her song to say goodbye. It would be so easy to spread her hands. You guys were the heroes back in the day- you figure it out.

If they want to kill her, then by all means, kill her. Vanya honestly could not give less of a shit anymore. Literally- the violin stole that ability from her almost as soon as she collected it from the cold, dead clutches of Sir Reginald and Harold Jenkins alike. The violin covered her eyes with milky white and used her own young voice to spin the wool to yank over her head and the violin pushed her deep, deep down into this well of darkness and the violin muffled all the rest of the world until all that was left was the music.

Now she doesn’t even have that. But heroes save people. And no one has ever saved her brothers and sister, even when they so desperately, obviously need it.

If there was anything Vanya’d always wanted more than to be special, it was the ability to save her family.

So Vanya catches the tune inside of her, pulls the glow down, shrouds herself in the darkness instead of letting it suffocate her. She threads the melody through her fingers and claws her way out of the deep.

The violin shudders, tries to force her back. It would be so easy to let go of the music, let the violin twist her out of shape, stuff her down in a cage somewhere no one else could ever find her. It might even be peaceful there.

But Allison is looking at her, her brothers are looking at her, and Vanya can see them.

Vanya can save them. It would cost so very little.

Vanya looks at her sister’s wide, terrified eyes and smiles.

Tell me you’re not threatened now.

She can fix this. She knows she can fix this.

She can be the hero her family needs her to be. Just this once.

Vanya smiles at her sister, raises her bow to her own throat, and draws a crisp G sharp across her jugular.

The white violin parts from her unfeeling hands and Vanya has never been happier as she falls to the stage.

Things get hazy for a while; all she can feel is the warmth and wet at the base of her neck, cascading down her front. The floor beneath her vibrates, as if thousands of feet are stampeding by her, but the wind dies down and the light from her skin must be dimming because that overwhelming, cloying darkness is back. It’s almost enough to let her breathe easy again.

She’s lying in a pool of the same sticky, fast-cooling liquid when she opens her eyes again. Through the beautiful, domed glass ceiling of the concert hall Vanya can see the full moon. It shines just a brightly as she did, up there all alone.

Things are moving at the edges of her vision, but that moon, that ethereal, intact, glorious moon, it stares right into her, down that well Vanya was trapped in. It sees her. It sees her.

Vanya clings to the moon and lets it buoy her on an ocean of her own blood.

Then the moon’s symphony in her mind is interrupted by curls and concern and tears and oh . That’s Allison. That’s her sister.

“Va- no, oh God- don’t mov-”

“Christ! Keep her on her ba- nee- -op the blood flow-”

She wonders if the blood has reached her ear now, pouring in so she can’t hear. The moon winks at her, and her heart settles.

I did it, she wants to tell the soft brown eyes which appear above her. They block out the moon, but that’s alright because Vanya will be there soon. It will all be alright.

The stage is empty; she doesn’t have to see to know. Everyone is safe from her.

“Vanya- stay wi-”

“Oh- oh- she’s losing too mu-”

“ Move! I ca - ee- how bad it i-”

I did it , she says to Allison, and grins. Something warm dribbles from her lips to her chin. It’s probably ruining the pristine white of her suit. I saved you.

In another life, she is again collapsed into her sister’s arms, sobbing apologies and wondering if they will kill her still. In another life, Allison is hugging her, Klaus is cooing, Five is sniping at men in combat gear and gas masks, Ben is glowing and blue and here . In another life, Luther throws a woman in a suit across the stage and Diego knives a man in the back before he can even touch Vanya. In another life, silence falls and she is crying in her sister’s arms and the apocalypse doesn’t happen. In another life they end up in the parking lot of a burned out Griddy’s, clutching a thermos of stale coffee Diego digs out from underneath a car seat. In another life, Vanya falls asleep against someone’s shoulder, with someone else’s hand in hers and someone else’s fingers carding through her hair and more than one someone else singing along (badly) to the radio at two in the morning.

“Please, please-”

“Not you too, Vanya, please, not after Ben-”

(In yet another life, it is too late, and her brother wreaths them all in blue, crackling energy so they can narrowly avoid chunks of moon crashing into the concert hall.)

But in this life, something wet hits her forehead, her cheek, and Vanya opens her mouth to tell her sister to stop crying only there’s someone making this awful gurgling noise somewhere very far away that’s very distracting.

“Stay, stay, I’m sorry just stay- ”

Someone is holding her hand; she can’t actually feel it, per se, but she can flick her eyes down far enough to make out bitten nails and tattoos.

I won’t haunt you, she promises Klaus, but he won’t stop cradling her hand to his heaving chest.

There’s a face beside Allison’s now; wrinkled brow, pursed lips, a nick in the eyebrow. Diego has had his gloved palms pressed to her throat for a while now, probably. Vanya can’t tell- how long has it been? Minutes? Hours?

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Don’t give up on us now, you hear me?”

It doesn’t matter, Vanya tells him. It’s okay. I saved you.

Her brother’s face crumples but his hands don’t fall away. She wishes he wasn’t so stubborn.

Now everything is blurry, and not just at the edges. She can’t quite make out the moon behind Allison, can’t see the pupils of her sister or brother’s eyes. Another face joins on the other side of the blonde-red-brown- blob which used to be her sister, and only the navy and red of their familiar uniform tells Vanya it is Five.

It’s over, Five. You’re safe. You’re safe from me.

I’m the hero now Luther. I did what it took to save the world- aren’t you proud of me?

The light is so weak now; maybe the stage lights have been shut off? She doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that her family is safe. They’re safe. She saved them.

The darkness is closing in again, but it doesn't drag her down like an anchor underwater this time. It’s a blanket, warm and comforting against the tacky, wet substance covering Vanya’s face and hands and arms and torso. It’s nice. Soothing, even. She is so very tired.

She’s done it- she’s saved the world. It wouldn’t be so bad, now, if she rested, would it?

Vanya closes her eyes against her sister’s beloved, unseen face, and smiles as she slips into sleep.

[comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog]

Leopold “Butters” Stotch

hi! i think i’ve worked out that i’ve reached the activity limit with my overall replies & discord rp-ing (16 replies overall) but, if not, I’m happy to leave this in your inbox until it’s ready x

out of character info

Name/Alias: Grace Pronouns: She/Her Age: 23 Join Our Discord: Yes – already in x Timezone: GMT Activity: 8 Triggers: N/A Password: Jimmy can fast pass my ass Character that you’re applying for: Leopold “Butters” Stotch Favourite ships for your character: Butters/Kenny, Butters/Eric, Butters/Chemistry

in character info (heavy trigger warning for parental abuse and neglect throughout !!)

Full name: Leopold “Butters” Stotch Birthday: 11th September 2000 Sexuality, gender, pronouns: bisexual, male, he/him  Age and grade: 17, senior.

Appearance: 

Butters is cursed with eternal baby-face: chubby cheeks and big blue eyes. Even his hair is as soft and fluffy as the day he was born, with his parents making sure that he never deviates from his short-back-and-sides style by cutting it themselves every Sunday evening. That’s not the only thing that hasn’t changed; his clothing style is as sweet and standard as his middle school days – boot-cut jeans, comfortable sneakers and the teal fleece his mom bought for his 15th birthday (he’s barely grown, since). Sometimes, Butters will experiment with a graphic-tee, his favourite being his array of Hello Kitty Island Adventure merchandise, or bright coloured polo. 

Butters stands at just under average height and just over average weight, with a cute bit of chub on his belly that he doesn’t think will ever go (he’s banned from visiting the gym after his dad’s bathhouse escapades). One time, his mom threatened to fatten him up so much that he’d never be able to leave, and he’s never been able to budge the extra weight, since. He doesn’t mind, though: he’s as body positive as can be, and thinks that anyone who don’t think he’s handsome ain’t looking hard enough.

Personality: 

Butters is a mess, frankly, though he thinks he’s just an ordinary fella living life as anyone should: by being kind and helping others. He’s dangerously gullible and painstakingly naïve, with a generous soul even after everything he’s been through. He just wants to do right by the world, especially his friends. He has a strong sense of justice, though this can be easily manipulated to the point where he’ll believe that what’s wrong is right and what’s right is wrong. Despite often being misguided, he’ll stick by his guns and stay true to himself when the time comes. He’s got better at standing up for himself as he’s got older, too, and isn’t afraid to put his foot down and say heck no if necessary. Most days, he's very confident in his own skills and self-image, but that can all change with one comment. 

His disrespect for authority is an interesting personality trait. He’ll fudge the police and tell his teachers to go suck a popsicle, but there’s two people he can’t say no to. Butters has been gaslighted his entire life, and the emotional and physical abuse he receives from his parents has led to humiliating and childlike obedience (what 18-year-old accepts being grounded for using twitter after 9pm?). When he’s caught doing wrong by his parents, all his self-confidence and cowboy-like bravado is shot to smithereens: he’s just a no good miscreant who ain’t gonna amount to nothin’, so he may as well give up on his dreams and stick to bein’ a plain ol’ nobody.

History:

Butters was born to Linda and Stephen Stotch on 11th September 2000. Ever since that fateful day, his life has been nothing but chaos and control and, though he wakes up to the sound of his own screams every night, he’s grateful for every opportunity he gets. It would be impossible to write all of his ups and downs in a couple of paragraphs, but there are two things that have really shaped Butters as a person.

One: his family. Stephen Stotch uses fear to control his son whilst his mom, Linda, is dangerously protective. Though seventeen, Butters still calls his dad ‘sir’ to his face and does what he’s told or faces severe consequences. The night that his mom asked him to stalk his father to the bathhouse changed a lot of things; he saw the internalised secrets and lies that have corrupted both of his parents and has watched them wear white-picket-fence masks in public every damn day since. He saw his dad embrace his sexuality yet treat it as a sin. He experienced his mom, breaking down, vulnerable and distressed, ready to kill her own son. Not to mention the time he was sold to Paris Hilton as a pet. Linda and Stephen Stotch are manipulative and controlling parents whose ‘love’ of their son, however much they fret over him and cover him with kisses, will never make up for the trauma instilled in him.

Two: his friends. Scrotie McBoogerballs, AWESOME-O, Good Times with Weapons, Marjorine, Casa Bonita. The list of shenanigans that Butters been apart of, and victim of, is endless. He’s been locked in a fridge, publicly shamed on television and stabbed in the eye with a shuriken, yet he still hangs out with these guys. Why? Because he was never part of the gang in kindergarten, and he’s never really had a true friend, someone who has made the effort to see what he’s been through and respect him regardless. Besides, hanging with these guys (whatever injuries and humiliation they bring to him) has given him a strength he never knew he had. He’s become a pimp, rekindled his confidence to dance, got his wiener out at school, become a best-selling novelist and, best of all, learned to say no to Eric Cartman. Not bad for a good-for-nothin’.

  Sample paragraph: (At least two paragraphs, centred around your character)

For the first time in a long time, Butter’s internal sludge pile of shame and humiliation is joined by anger. He’s so gosh darn mad that he don’t care who knows it, but no-one is gonna know it, ‘cause he got no cell, no internet, and no hope’a gettin’ outta his stupid ol’ room. It’s the same ol’ story: Eric and the fellas convinced him to get a fake ID so they could get some sorta fancy alcohol for Bebe’s party tonight. Kyle said it had to be him, ‘cause he looks the oldest, and he’s the best actor outta all of ‘em. Butters ain’t sure if that’s true, but he appreciated the compliment, and it’s a bad pal that says no to a favour, especially when the entire party rested on his hands.

He got the booze, alright. And he was nice and proud of himself, until Eric said it was the wrong one. Ain’t no one wants to drink this kindergarten crap, Eric said, we’re men now, we gotta drink whiskey. Well, Butters thinks whiskey tastes like butt, and ain’t no one wants to taste butt, ‘cept maybe Kenny. He thought the blue an’ pink bottles looked cute and bubblegum is his favourite flavour, no doubt about it, but maybe he should’a followed the plan and done what he was told. Darn it all.

He was in trouble with the guys, but at least he weren’t in trouble with his mom and dad, and that meant he’d finally be able to go to a real life party, maybe show off his dancin’ skills and eat some cheese and pineapple sticks. But then they found his fake idea when doin’ their routine search’a his room, and all hell broke loose. You ain’t goin’ anwhere today, mister, they said, you’re gonna sit right here on your tushie an’ think about the consequences of identity fraud. I’m goin’ to that party, Buttons said, puttin’ his foot down. Well, that  just about earned a slap around the noggin and a week without his cell, so he couldn’t even tell the fellas he weren’t comin’ tonight.

A knock on his window jolts him outta his angry pacing. He doesn’t want to look up, ‘cause he knows it’s probably Eric, comin’ over just to make fun of his current predicament and boast all about how much fun he’s gonna have tonight. Well Butters weren’t gonna have it, no sir-ee. He puts his hands on his hips and he gets ready to march right over there and give Eric a proper telling to, but then he sees it ain’t Eric, it’s Kenny, an’ he got a proper determined look on his face.

“We’re breaking you out,” Kenny says, an’ Butters ain’t gonna argue this time.

Headcanons: 

Butters still plays Hello Kitty Island Adventures, but he’s also a massive animal crossing fan. Any game that lets him escape his house, have some independence, and talk to (or raise) cute animals can keep him hooked for hours. Unfortunately, his mom and dad turn the internet off at 9pm and keep his phone in their bedroom at night. 

Butters keeps his sexuality a secret from his parents, and it’s no surprise why. After his mom found out about his dad’s trip to the bathhouse (subsequently attempting to murder her son) and after a gruelling (and very confusing) trip to conversion camp, Butters thought it best to hide any ‘abnormal’ feelings. Fortunately, his friends and their often open sexualities has made him feel comfortable and confident with himself, and he’s resoundingly grateful for it.

He is quietly considering his gender and what it means to be Butters. At the moment, he doesn’t think he needs to put a name to it, but it doesn’t hurt to research, and he’s ecstatic to see he isn’t the only one who doesn’t sit on one end of the binary. Though exploring the possibility of being non-binary, he’s happy to be referred to by male pronouns for now.

Butters wants to be a pre-school teacher, even after what happened to Ms. Claridge. He loves drawing and storytelling and wants to share those gifts to others, helping kids who might not be happy at home.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t think his mum will let him go as far as college without having a breakdown or threatening something real bad. Though his parents have started to treat him a little better as he’s got older, their distrust of the world around them, and of their son, has grown rapidly.

Butters works part-time at the ice cream parlour and adds something special to every sale. Most of the time he uses the wafers and chocolate chips to make little teddy bears, but his extra special treat (for people he really likes) is the unicorn uni-cone with lots of sparkles.

Butters is a wonderful artist! He loves using watercolour pencils and paint the best and though his work isn’t always the most profound (it’s usually portraits of his friends or cute animals he sees), it's always beautifully coloured and full of love.  

Anything else: thank u guys 4 the opportunity

[randomperson339]

Insects Gods and Mortals: A Hollow Knigh/Alien fanfiction

(here's the mastpost for this fanfic)

Warning: graphic depictions of gore and sex-talk eventually

------

“Fuck.”

For the second time, that was all Thomas could say. If he was the host- if he was going to die- he needed immediate attention. Hopefully- hopefully he would have a week to sort everything out, and possibly get surgery to at the very least kill-

“No. No kill. Stay alive.” The queen retorted. “you kill / I kill you.”

“Yeah, but what about my life?” Thomas retorted. “If I just kill myself-“

“No.” The queen commanded, sending more shockwaves of pain coursing through Thomas. “I no die. Therefore, I keep host alive.”

“Yeah, but if I’m going to die, I might as well just keep myself alive until I tell the Pale King not to murder his hundreds of children. Then after that, I’m going to die anyway, so…”

“No. Keep alive.” The juvenile responded.

“How? Your birth cycle necessitates that I die. Therefore, I might as well just get it over with.” Thomas continued. 

That stumped the Queen for a bit, allowing Thomas to try to stand up, before crashing back down. It seemed the Queen really didn’t want him to leave just yet.

“What about the surz-gur-ee?” The Queen asked.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“What is it?” 

“Um, it would basically be cutting me open when unconscious, then removing you somewhere where we can safely kill you.”

“Impossible to remove. Surz-gury kill host. Natural better.”

“For you or me?” Thomas asked, as a lone figure started to approach.

“For both. I can control birth. Cannot control suez-gury.” 

“But I could control the surgery. What happens, who’s present, if I’m unconscious or not, why would I give that up?” The pillbug-like visage wasn’t in much of a rush, much to Thomas’s chagrin. 

“I could stop pain.” The Queen innocently remarked.

“Yeah, and if I’m going to die anyways, might as well let someone kill you while you’re still weak.” Why was the figure moving so slow? Thomas wanted out of this conversation, now. 

“And why should I die?” The Queen asked, unaware of how bloody her species' history was.

Thomas was given a moment to collect his thoughts, and observe the figure. While it was absolutely a pillbug, it certainly was dressed up in more comfortable clothes than any Thomas had seen...

“Why?” The Queen repeated.

Taking in a breath, Thomas began: “You see, your species is a naturally parasitic species. You need hosts to propagate, and you’re the one that makes all those parasites. If you start a hive, nobody in Hollownest could stop you, leading to a lot of death. Potentially an apocalypse.”

“While I’m sure you might want that, but I don’t think anyone else wants it.” Thomas thought before quickly being shaken awake by the now overhead figure. 

“SIR? Are you alright?” The Pillbug asked, panic filling his voice. 

“Y-Yeah I guess.” Thomas replied, trying to take a stand with his agonising legs, only to come crashing down again. “Actually, no. I’m not.”

As the bug came closer to Thomas, it continued. “I-I’m sorry that I didn’t help you sooner. I thought that you were a body, left there to rot. I was planning on disposing of you, when I saw that big breath you took.” 

“Thanks.” Thomas continued, feeling the Queen starting to mentally brush up against his mind. “I’m just looking for the tailor-

“Oh! To hide your affliction? Of course! I’ll fit you for free! It would be indecent for me to leave you out like this.” The pillbug replied. 

“Ah, good. Could you get me a cloak? And a mask, if you have one.” Tomas rolled over.

“Absolutely.” The pillbug said, hesitated.

“Thank you. I’ll be able to stand up in a minute, go ahead.” Thomas offered, letting the tailor run back to her house. Which left him and the Queen where they left off. 

“Truce? Until outside?” The Queen asked.

“Sure. I don’t try to kill you, and you don’t try to get out.” Thomas stated.

“But need outside. Too confined here.” The Queen rejected. “Will try non-fatal birth.”

“Non-fatal birth?” Thomas inquired. He hadn’t heard of a single Xenomorph that didn’t kill its host upon exit. If, and I mean if, it worked he wouldn’t only have a week to get everything sorted.

“Try.” The Queen stressed. “Theoretical birth. Too inconsistent to try. Host could still die.” 

“Could you stop calling me ‘host’? My name’s Thomas. And try to fix my legs while you’re at it.” Thomas asked.

“Sure ho- Thomas.” Agreed the Queen.

After succeeding to stand up, Thomas took a tentative step forward. That did remind him that his legs were sore, but it wasn’t painfully sore like it was before. It was normally sore like after going out for a jog. 

Steadily walking to the tailor’s house, Thomas asked the Queen “How do you even plan on making me live through you, ah, violent birth?”

“Latch onto eating system. Change h-Thomas’s genes to help. Try to make smaller opening.” The queen informed.

Thomas was surprised at that revelation. “Wait, change my genes? You can do that?”

“Yes.” The  Queen non-chalaly replied. “Have to be careful, but possibility.” 

After thinking for a moment, Thomas carefully inquired. “How do you change somebody’s genes?”

“Um… by using royal jelly.” The Queen responded. “No… scein-tik-fic reason. Just happens.”

“So why/how has this ability been used?” Thomas hadn’t heard of direct genetic tampering with xenomorphs. Why hadn’t they just used that and every xenomorph become an even better killing machine?

“Mostly tweaks/incopertation. Un-based genetic tampering creates disease. Need something to copy off of.” The Queen clarified. 

“So, you can’t create new structures, only change old ones?” Thomas clarified. He really wanted to know what he was getting into. Actually, what he was in.

“Yeah. Can change, not create. Too… finicky.” The Queen finished. 

“Now, what do you plan on doing to me?” Thomas asked, hoping he wouldn’t wake up with giant spikes sticking out of his back. 

“Mostly unnoticeable. Strengthen muscles, help heart, just basic things.” The Queen assured him.

“Good. I really didn’t want to randomly grow a tail.” Thomas joked, right when he reached the tailor’s house. 

Reaching out, Thomas gave a big “thunk thunk thunk” for a knock. Which was promptly followed by the shrill screech of the tailor, followed by a great crashing sound. 

Looking inside, Thomas found the Tailor collapsed under a mountain of cloth. Ducking in, he moved to get the sea of cloth off, however the tailor spoke up first.

“Sorry… but you’re still… covered in soul. Give me a minute and I’ll be right as rain.” The Tailor diswaided. “If you need to get rid of it, I have some drying rags in the back.”

“Thanks again.” Thomas replied, before quickly hurrying out and around the house. Quickly scrubbing off his hands, his bloody hands, He thought about his situation for a moment. 

He was in the world of Hollow Knight, a video game. With a queen xenomorph stuck inside his chest, which was from some movies. Which were pieces of fiction, and weren’t directly related to his previous… reality.

So, if he was currently inside a piece of media, then didn’t that technically make him part of that media? Was he actually being controlled by someone other being that thought it would be funny to put him in another dimension? Was he even real?

His thoughts were interrupted however, by his own blood starting to trickle down the back of his hand. 

“Fuck”

That wasn’t good at all, there were probably hundreds, if not millions of unknown foreign bacteria crawling around on each surface. If even one wrong bacteria got in, it could easily spell the end for Thomas. 

At least his hand weren’t covered in the still warm soul of the Tiktik. That could’ve been a complete disaster. 

However, now Thomas really needed some piece of cloth to make a makeshift bandage. The drying cloths wouldn’t work, since who knows what had been on them, but hopefully the tailor had some extra cloth she could spare. 

Quickly rushing back in, Thomas saw that the Tailor was frantically searching around her house for… something. 

Briefly looking up, the Tailor addressed Thomas. “Ah, sorry, I just didn’t think about you height. Turns out that there’s no cloaks that could cover everything about you.” 

Now that she mentioned it, Thomas was quite a bit bigger than any other bugs he had seen. The Young bug he met was about half his height. The Tailor got to his neck. And assuming that the Tailor was a pillbug (she looked at one, at least), that put him as one of the tallest beings in Hollownest. The only people he really thought were bigger than him were the White Lady, the dreamers, and the hunter. Also the city guards too, but those don’t really count. 

“I could just wear two cloaks, like the clothes I’m wearing now.” Thomas responded. 

“I suppose so…” the Tailor responded, rummaging out two cloaks. “These should be sufficient?”

Thomas held the larger one to his chest, then the smaller one to his waist. “They look pretty good. Do I have to pay for them or…? He led off. 

“With those cloaks?!” The Tailor gasped. “Who in their right mind would let you run around like that? One of them’s got soul in it. Please, consider this a favour.”

“I guess so.” Thomas replied. He hadn’t thought about the warm wetness on his back. “Is there some kind of changing room?” 

“No, but I do need to leave for some food.” The Tailor replied, scooting past Thomas and almost out the door.

“Wait, I didn’t catch your name. What was it again?” Thomas played dumb, rubbing his nape. 

“It’s Helph.” The tailor, Helph as Thomas now knew, replied. 

“Thanks for everything.” Thomas finished, as Helph closed the door. 

“Other Rival queens? Me queen! Me kill! Me slay rivals!” The Queen bounced into Thomas’s conscious. 

“Um, uh don’t kill the other queens.” Thomas ‘spoke’, before elaborating. “The other queens are not like you. You’re supposed to be more of an ant queen, where you lay all the eggs. These queen take more of a leadership role, where they’re not related to anyone else, except their immediate/extended family. They’re not rivals, they’re just… potential allies.” 

“So, keep alive for hosting?” The Queen unabashedly asked.

“No! That’s wrong.” Thomas knee-jerked before making a coherent argument. “I don’t want any facehuggers running around. If one attaches itself to a bug, it’s basically a murder youcommitted.”

At that the Queen grew silent for a minute. “I… murder host?” She meekly said. 

Ah fuck. Thomas had basically just told a 10-year old that she was a cold blooded killer. So, thinking fast Thomas back-pedaled. “I meant when you’re the one controlling the face-hugger! It’s not applicable if you’re not involved with it, it’s whoever was involved with it’s fault! Plus, we’re trying to do a non-fatal birth, right? That’s gotta count for something.”

“Ok…” The Queen replied, in a tont that told Thomas this wasn’t over at all. 

But, now he was feeling a little self-conscious about undressing with anyone around, even if she was technically a part of him. “Could you look away?” Thomas asked. “To make up for the entire… murdering deal.” He fibbed. 

“Where look then?” The Queen asked. “Necessary look. Me only able to see host.” 

“Um… try filtering through my mind.” Thomas offered, before being mortified by the implications. “Just don’t look anywhere too… NSFW. Or private.” He pleaded.

The Queen’s presence retracted, allowing Thomas to change in peace. While he thought using a cloak as a loincloth was a bit too cold(even though he remembered to keep his underwear on), especially with how naturally cold Hollownest was. He kept his shoes and socks on, though. 

The top was a bit better. It was a bit thinner than the bottom cloak, it more than made up for it with covering down to Thoma’s wait. It also had a hood, in case Thomas ever really wanted to go unnoticed (which he did. So he always had it up.)

Now that he was done, he realised he had completely forgotten that everyone in Hollownest had either a mask, or a mask-like face. He couldn’t reasonably go unnoticed if he didn’t have a mask.

And then he had one. It was a “normal” mask, with the top half being perfectly round before tapering off into a point at the bottom. While the eyes were at Thomas’s height, surprisingly enough, the mask still felt off. 

It was a bit… warm. Not in the “cozy up by the fire” warm, but the “just cooled metal warm.” And it had suddenly appeared in Thomas’s possession, which was never a good sign…

But Thomas held it against his face, and he felt it ‘attach’ to him. There wasn’t any straps or strings to attach to Thomas’s face, but it did. It held there, almost floating against Thomas’s skin. 

Freaking out a bit, Thomas immediately threw the mask away. It obeyed gravity like normal, and was flung to the ground, causing a thin creek of a crack to form from the bottom of the mask to the right eye.

Steeling himself, Thomas picked the mask back up and put it back on.

While it felt weird to have something almost floating against your face. With nothing connecting you to the mask it was just some warm thing obscuring your peripheral vision. In summary, Thomas was getting rid of it the first chance he got. 

And as Thomas began walking to the stagway,(carrying his clothes to appear busy) the young Queen grew curious. “What’s Radiance? Why both real/unreal? Connected to ‘infection’?”

“She’s a ‘higher being’ that rule over Hollownest a thousand or so years ago with a hive-mind, until the Pale King came and sealed her away. He did this by making everyone forget about her, so she was banished to the dream realm. So, not wanting to, well, die, she’s now trying to get people to remember her, thus putting them inside her hive-mind. Thomas mentally explained, not even skipping a step on his way.

“So, why real/unreal?” The queen asked. “What mean “unreal”?”

“Um… I found this video game a while ago that had all this lore in it. I’m pretty sure it’s accurate, since everything, except you, has been from that game. Except the drying rags.” Thomas replied. “So, until I was taken here, the Radiance was fictional, or ‘unreal’. However, I suppose the Radiance is real, so now she’s ‘non-fictional’. Which leads to all sorts of ethical quandaries.”

“What quandaries?”

“Definition of quandaries or what quandaries?” Thomas hoped he wouldn’t have another awkward conversation-

“Both.” The Queen replied, dashing all of Thomas’s hopes. 

You see, a xenomorph also had psychic powers, a hive-mind, and would kill at least one individual (their host), probably more if they wanted more ‘children’. Now, explaining it to a fully grown, adult Queen wouldn’t be such an issue, however the Queen he had before him right now was practically a child. So, Thomas was… hesitant to say the least. 

“Well, a quandary is a kind of question.” Thomas started off easy. “So, a moral quandary is a moral question.”

“And morals good things?” The Queen inquired.

“Not… exactly. Morals are basically… how you determine what’s right or wrong.” Thomas exposited, trying to surface up the base concept. “It doesn’t determine what’s easy, or even what’s best, but it is what’s a good thing to do.” 

“Ok,” The Queen confirmed. “moral quandaries/Radiance pose?” 

Now the tricky part. “It poses a moral quandary because…” Thomas thought for a moment, picking his words carefully. “she’s superseding the will of others.” 

“The will? Choices?” She clarified.

“No, not the choices, the will.” Thomas clarified back. “It takes a will to choose. If you supersede that will, not only can’t you make a choice, you can’t even conceive of making one to begin with.” He explained.

“Bad why? No idea choice, no harm.” The Queen innocently asked.

“It’s… complicated.” Thomas decided on. “You see, my morality comes from a human perspective. Your morality comes from xenomorphs before you. Not only can’t I not think about being unable to choose, I cannot conceive of any scenario where I cannot even think about making a choice.” 

Quickly retorting, she said, “Animals? Animals no choice. Animals cannot think choice.” 

“And that’s a good, but complicated question. However, that’s besides the point of something having a will of its own, and then something else takes that away.” He countered. 

“So, mind-control bad?” She asked.

“Yeah. Mind control bad.” Thomas finished. “And how convenient.” Thomas said, as he stood before the stagway. 

[fluxanddragons]

The Life and times of Me, Solomyr. Chapter 1.

*If you do read this please give comments.*

I hate humans. They’re only mildly intelligent, mildly violent, and extremely illogical. I mean one time I had a ring of illusion allowing the wearer to control a single mind for any purpose. I of course stole this ring and was going to get rid of the enchantment. The former owner didn’t like this so came after me and this human guard I had. As I was preparing a ward to prevent us being tracked I gave the ring to my guard and told him to keep it hidden for as long as possible. The idiot threw it in a nearby lake. I mean why? Why would you do that? Well this meant I had to camp out by the lake for days waiting for the warlock the ring belonged to give up before searching for the ring myself so as to destroy the enchantment. It’s not as if the guard didn’t know I needed to get rid of the enchantment first, he had been employed by me for I don’t know two months, I think, humans live such short lives, it’s pathetic. I mean at least orcs are consistently stupid and brutish. Alas this is not the story I wanted to tell this story is about me a humble High Elf Mage Pure-Blooded for millennia, Lord Soloymr of Velotil.

 Velotil was a prosperous Valley full of mages and sorcerers use their knowledge to improve everyone’s lives. Except the common farmers and such filth. Their puny lives are adorable labouring day in and day out. We mostly get humans and half-human abominations to work the farms, though treacherous criminals like murderers, arsonists, drunkards, and traitors are sent there to pay their dues. For a life time, the insolent idiots. Ah but High Elf Society is full of the purest and noblest that Velotil could offer. Now I would describe the rolling hill that surround my valley from the azure green fields and the beautiful flower gardens that spell out Velotil, in Elven Runes, of course. I would also the sapphire blue rivers that travels from the magical source at the heart of Velotil’s Rodon District where the best of Velotil’s best live, including myself, of course. The river runs through the Valun courts and the Macyd streets. Velotil is a raised town to help us keep away from the rabble of the common folk. As such the sorcerers near where I live created a light bridge so we could see the beautiful river at all times. From the Macyd streets the river flows south in to the farmlands, a few miles away. The stone walls around all of Velotil aren’t much just to protect crops, livestock and farmers. The Greater Walls, however are enchanted so as to burn any non-elf attackers. I would have had it target hostiles automatically ridding us of the need of look-outs, but the council said the idea was a waste of time. Still at least The Greater Walls aren’t just cobblestone. They are encrusted with jewels and gold to reflect the wealth of my society. Of course, none of the wonders of Velotil matter since only days after my last heroic exploit killing diseased humans to prevent a hideous epidemic. My city was attacked, By a group of annoying humans with sunken eyes and amber eyes. They actually looked similar to the humans I killed earlier. They tore through the farmland slaughtering the commoners who make my food. I was going to starve now. The creatures were still heading towards me. They looked ashen. I could hear criers shouting at everyone to get within the walls. The guards were closing the portcullis. The monsters were slowing down. When they arrived, I could see them just standing there, motionless. They just stared, unblinkingly through everyone, silence fell. The chaos below seemed distant. These, things, with their dusty grey eyes with sunken sockets. They had pale skin as if their heart was beating at a fraction of the pace. The lips were cracked. Some had holes and dried blood under their bottom lip. Whilst stood eerily still, I could see that a few of them were searching the guards and the braver citizens, myself included, of course, that were stood at the gate. One of them set their eyes on me and starting humming. The sound started quiet. The buzz grew as more creatures found me in the crowd. As the sound grew, some of my people looked at me, thinly veiled suspicion in their eyes. The cheek, I, the most respected adventurer in all of Aposity, being looked at as if I was to blame for the hideous monstrosities outside these walls. Well I’ll need to fix that. I marched forward. One of the soldiers saw me and stood in my way.

“Stand back citizen.”

“I beg your pardon”, I reply, startled that this guard thought he could refer to me as part of the common rabble, “I am Lord Solomyr of Velotil, Son of Luthais and Naesala Luven, and Ambassador of the Court, and I demand you let me through.”

“Look… Um… sir… I…”

“Silence!”

Ha! He’s terrified. I thought. That put him back in his place.

The hum died down as I approached the gate. I scanned the crowd of creatures. I swear I’ve seen them before but ah well. I turn back to my citizens.

“Do not be afraid. I shall keep you safe. I am down here protecting the people of Velotil while the apparent court has to meticulously plan a solution. The cowards. If you all return to your homes, I shall destroy the blight these monsters bring. You have my word, As your saviour. Fi hofr jupar” My speech was glorious and awe-inspiring. My civilians left to go home finally devoid of fear. The calm charm I uttered at the end at least made certain of it. Now head closer to the gate and get a good look at my foe. There grey eyes had a red rim on the outside of their iris. Some of them had deep wounds but weren’t bleeding, one of them had a dagger in his shoulder still. There various garments ripped and blood stained, reeked of blood and urine. I moved my eyes back up to their faces. They looked even worse up close. Pale skin coupled with bloody wounds under all of their lips, as if they had a new set of teeth they weren’t used to.

I decide to introduce myself.

“I am Sol…”

“We know who you are?” They said in unison, voices raspy.

“Well then you will…”

“We want vengeance.”

“Excuse me.” I was getting mad now “I was talking! Now if you want to live…”

They bellowed in laughter, interrupting me yet again.

“What now?”

One of the things shambled forward, he had carving fork jammed in his knee.

“You don’t recognise us, do you?”

“Should I?”

“We shouldn’t be surprised, you couldn’t see past your own successes and glories. How would you recognise the ones needed to die for that to happen?”

“I earn my glory. I never need help and I revel in competition. No one is as great as I am.”

“Then look at us. Who do you see?”

“A bunch of monsters who will be incinerated.”

“No. Look at us. Look at me.”

It was then I realised where I had seen some of these people. Some of them were the farmers from the valley and the others were…

“By the gods… I’ve killed you. The other day… the diseased humans… I killed the lot of you.” I was shocked these things wanted revenge from me, since I tried to kill them.

“Well sucks to be you then” I shout standing tall. “You can’t get in. We’re safe.”

“You right about one thing.” The Infected mused, in unison “We can’t get in. But none of the people can get out. How long before food starts running low? Do you really think people will starve to keep you alive? We only want you. Come out and we will take you away. That is the honourable thing to do. It is what a Hero would do,” coaxed the voices.

“No.” I scream defiantly. “I am The Hero my people want, no need. They need my protection.”

“Your ignorance is amusing. But it’s time to realise these aren’t your people. You are not a true hero. Your title was inherited not earned.”

“You know nothing of my plights.” I turn to the guards nearby. “Open the gates. The Infected will die tonight.”

The guard hesitated. “But they can come in if we open the gate.”

“Shut up. I command you to open that gate.”

“No Sir. I am not jeopardising this town to inflate your ego. The council will decide. And Lord Solomyr I am…”

“pyr fir ee” The Guard was silenced by my fireball. “You going to arrest me or Are you going to open that gate.”

Another guard almost tripped over himself rushing to open the gate.

“Now. I don’t care who or what you are. You come here, insult me and my people. You shall pay with blood.”

“Come peacefully and no one else dies”

“pyr fir ee” Another fire ball gets hurtled towards The Infected. It sets fire to a about four of them. They all then charge in. One goes over to the guard and mutters an incantation

“Vame pyre thall” and the guard stands up.

The Infected shambled forward and screeched which could be heard all over town.

“We gave you a choice Solomyr. You chose to doom a city than pay for your crime.” He then hit me across the head.

[returnn-of-the-mac]

Can you do a companions + others to sole being a murderer

Hope ya’ll like them reacts where 85% of the companions hate your guts— cuz this is one of them! Please enjoy! 😊

FO4 Companions (+Others) React: Sole Being a Murderer

Sole and their companion were on their way to Salem when the pair decided to camp out for the night.

At some point in the wee hours of the morning [companion] woke up parched. As they were crawling over to the supply stash, they noticed Sole was missing and heard some commotion beyond the bushes they were sleeping behind.

[Companion] peeked over the shrubbery and witnessed...what appeared to be Sole harassing a pair of innocent settlers. They watched in horror as the duo pled for their lives.

“Please,” the man stated, “Just let my daughter and I go. You can have anything. ANYTHING. Y-you can even take our Brahmin!”

Sole smirked and held out their hand, as if to make a deal, but suddenly drew a blade and sliced the unsuspecting trader’s throat.

“Dad!” A younger woman yelled,. She angrily turned her attention to Sole, drawing her gun, “You killed him, you asshole!”

Sole quickly dashed over to the woman and slit her throat as well.

That’s when [companion] emerged from their hiding spot.

...

Nick: You monster! How could you do that to innocent people? [draws gun] Turn yourself in, kid. I don’t want this to get ugly.

MacCready: Theft is one thing, but murder? That’s low. I can’t just stand by and let it happen. If you’re going to continue to off people, then you’re gonna haveta find a new traveling buddy.

Hancock: Who the fuck do you think you are? Deciding who gets to live and who doesn’t? That’s the kinda playin God typa shit that I stand against [pulling knife] You best get the fuck out of here, punk. And don’t speak to me ever again.

Curie: ‘ave you no shame? No morals? ‘ow could you be zo cruel to a young woman and ‘er father. You’re be’avior ees truly despicable. I don’t know eef I can travel wiz you anymore, [Madam/Monsieur]!

Codsworth: What has this cold world done to you, [sir/mum]? I...I can’t be a part of this. I’m going back to the house in Sanctuary. Please, just don’t visit, and don’t speak to me ever again.

Strong: Human kill other human, good. But these human no try to hurt us! Bad! Not finding milk, human!

Cait: Shite! Thanks for the early mornin entertainment, darlin [kneeling next to females corpse and snagging a locket] [holding it out to Sole] This oughtta be worth somethin, ye?

Ada: You’re no better than the robots who killed my friends, [sir/ma’am]...

Longfellow: Murderin innocents, huh? You’ve really decided to stoop that low. You know who else kills innocents? Raiders, Trappers, Children of Atom, animals. You’re no better than them. I’m going back to the harbor. Don’t follow me.

Piper: How could you that!? That was so...so cold! So brutal! So...heartless! I can’t stand by you anymore. I’m leaving, Blue!

Gage: Ha! Nice one, boss! Don’t forget to loot em! We need all the caps we can get round these parts.

Mags: I commend your brutality, however, maybe you should reserve your energy for the murders of settlers who may...[shoots a disgusted sideways glance at the corpses of the traders]...actually be worth something.

Mason: OOOooHooO! Now THAT is some Pack behavior that I like to see! You’re an animal!

Nisha: Now’s the fun part [chuckling] Dissecting them.

Deacon: Was that supposed to be some kinda joke, because it wasn’t funny. I trusted you to guide the Railroad, and this is who you really are. Des was right. Don’t ever come back. You’re dead to us.

Desdemona: I knew it. I could tell just by speaking you that there was something off. You’ve violated our trust. You can no longer be a part of our organization. Leave immediately. You’re no longer welcome here.

Danse: [infuriated; laser rifle drawn] The hell was that!? I should have known you were a callous killer based on your behavior. How could I have been so naïve? We’re done.

Maxson: The Brotherhood strictly prohibits senseless murder. I don’t know if this behavior is PTSD related or not, but you need help, Knight. Unfortunately, because of your actions, I am going to have to terminate you from the Brotherhood. Please, gather your belongings and vacate the Prydwen immediately.

Preston: [hurt; betrayed] So the General of the Minutemen is a cold blooded killer? History really does repeat itself. [Name], I’m leaving. And you’re not welcome back to any of our checkpoints. You’re not a Minuteman; you’re a monster.

Sturges: I thought you were better than this, General. Reckon I totally misjudged ya that first day we met. Damn shame, too.

X6-88: [crossing arms] Acting on the impulse to murder innocents is while we’re in the Commonwealth, [sir/ma’am], but please refrain from this behavior against our kind. Exterminating surface dwelling trash is acceptable, but harming any Institute personal will result in execution.

Father: A murderer? That’s hardly commendable. You’re no better than the animalistic surface dwellers we despise. That is unless, you only limit your killings to the people of the Commonwealth.

[perksofbeingawaifu]

this is not what you think it is

canonverse (set sometime during the time skip), ereri, ~1800 words. trigger warnings: bondage--but not the way you think, ballgag--but not the way you think, ropes--again not what you’re thinking. minor violence.

The ropes dug into Eren’s flesh, raced across his naked chest trapping his arms at his side and over his bare thighs. He gave a little moan around the gag in his mouth and Levi thought, finally.

“You’re awake,” Levi ascertained. “Good.”

Eren made a noise that Levi assumed was “Captain?”

Levi at least was fully clothed, but because of his height, only came to Eren’s chest, which was very awkward because his tanned chest was very smooth, but also covered in Eren’s drool. Levi wiggled his wrists again, trying to get some blood flowing. Everything was too tight.

Eren looked around the room in horror and struggled to get free. Which was pointless really, their captors had wrapped Eren and Levi together several times over and bound them tight to keep Humanity’s Strongest from simply breaking the ropes and then threw in a chain on over the mess, because why not?

“Easy,” Levi ordered as Eren flailed. “I said easy!”

Eren rolled them both into a puddle of filth. The cistern water filled his ears and Levi’s nostrils flared. Eren realized his mistake because he let out a whimper as apology. Levi tensed up his core and with all his might rolled Eren over hard onto a rock.

“Calm down,” Levi snapped as Eren’s head spun.

“Ai tought it—“

“I don’t want to hear you talk with that thing in your mouth.”

But Levi knew what Eren was trying to say. He thought it was a dream. He thought it was a nightmare.

They’d wanted to try and lure out more Marleyan sympathizers. Not every one of those metal ships that came to the shores of Paradise Island sank with all crew aboard lost. Some had made it inward. Some had made it inside the walls. Some had help.

In that way, the plan was a success, they’d successfully routed out the culprits.

On the other hand, it was a complete failure because both Eren and Levi had been caught and taken hostage. Levi hadn’t been able to count, but it was at least thirty men—some of whom he’d killed—who rushed in on him at once. If Mikasa was worth one hundred soldiers, well then Levi knew he was worth thirty some traitors because that’s how many had grabbed him, nearly pulling his arm out of its socket. They’d beaten him and thrown nets around him and then, the worst yet, chained him to his subordinate. They’d stripped Eren nearly naked, trying to search him for knives or any other weapons he might possess.

“There you are, you devils,” said the man who must have been their leader. “I’m going to take the pair of you back to Boss. He can slice up the shortie in revenge and we can claim the Coordinate which is rightfully ours. And best part is, you can’t turn into that ugly titan because if you do, your Captain here will be just chunks of guts on the wall.”

The man laughed as he kicked Eren’s head and Levi closed his eyes, waiting to be nothing but brain matter, but nothing happened, just steam. And as Levi waited for Eren to wake he began taking stock of the cellar.

“Ahain Evi?” Eren asked, sounding so miserable, Levi couldn’t be mad at him for disobeying the order not to speak.

“Yes?”

“Ah ave to ‘ee.”

Levi closed his eyes for patience.

<*>

“Hold still,” Levi said.

He leaned up and bit at the strap holding the ball gag around Eren’s mouth and shook it back and forth. Walls. He was going to lose a tooth doing this. Eren too. Of course Eren’s grew back, the little monster. It was odd, doing this. His teeth scraped against Eren’s stubbled cheek. Levi could smell a hint of military issued aftershave.  

“AH!” Eren gasped.

Levi had shook it free enough so that the ball was out of Eren’s mouth but still so tight that it was trapped to his bottom lip, giving him an expression akin to a bulldog. Levi carefully took the gag in his mouth and as he did, his lips brushed against Eren’s. He paused. Really this was no time to be worried about nonsense like that. He pulled and tugged the gag down as far as he could with Eren shaking his head to try and free himself of it.

“Got it!” Eren gasped.

“My teeth are going to be sore for weeks,” Levi complained, cracking his jaw.

“Sorry Captain,” Eren apologized. “This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Levi sighed.

Levi respected Eren enough to not acknowledge Eren’s tears even as they stained his cravat.

“Listen, Eren. If they come back, I want you to transform.”

“But sir—“

“You heard me. Titans don’t work well underground, but at least that way you can try to escape.”

“No! Sir! I refuse.”

“You’re going to refuse a direct order from me again, Eren?” Levi asked dangerously.

Eren averted his gaze. “Please…sir, if I transform like this, it’s possible I could kill you. Please don’t make me a murderer.”

“You didn’t kill Armin and Mikasa when you saved them from that cannon ball, did you?” Levi asked. “Then I’ll be fine.”

“The ropes…if I transform the ropes could break your back or cut you into pieces. Please, sir.”

“Then let’s find a way out of here so that doesn’t happen,” Levi said calmly.

They came up with an odd way of searching the room. They rolled across the floor in tandem. Eren’s hair picked up bits of hay. They gained a bit of momentum and overshot their goal, Eren landing on top of Levi. His cheeks were red from exertion and he looked down at Levi breathlessly. He appeared to lose focus for a moment.

“You have spittle on your cheek,” Levi pointed out.

“Sorry,” Eren apologized. There was nothing he could do about it.

Levi felt something hard nudge him between his legs. Please no.

“What’s that?” Eren asked, perhaps as a distraction, nudging him and looking over behind a crate.

A bottle.

They wiggled towards it like two stuck inchworms.

“Roll me over so I can smash it with my hands,” Levi ordered. They were mostly numb but he could still crack it.

“No! Captain—“

“If you tell me ‘no’ one more time—“

“It’s just that you need your hands to hold your blades! Sir! An—and if you slice them, you’ll be unable to do that. I don’t have that problem. Use my hands. They’re worthless.”

Levi didn’t say anything, he only chewed on his lower lip before rolling so Eren could reach the bottle.

“A little closer,” Eren begged as his fingertips stretched for the bottle.

“I don’t think they’re worthless,” Levi said.

“Huh?” Eren asked, still stretching for the neck of the bottle.

“Your hands. I don’t think they’re worthless.”

A smile split across Eren’s face and he hummed, resting his forehead against Levi’s own. He pursed his lips and rested them in the center of the part in Levi’s hair. It was such a bizarre and unexpected gesture, Levi couldn’t find it within himself to chastise him, even as the touch lingered still longer.

“Got it!” Eren crowed.

“Quiet,” Levi hissed.

There was noise outside the door. They paused with bated breath, listening as the footsteps continued on and up the stairs.

“Hurry.”

It took a few tries but Eren eventually cracked the bottle on the stone and then began to saw at his bindings.

“I think there’s another piece here big enough for you,” Eren said, twisting and Levi rolled over him to grab it with his fingers.

He didn’t feel the bottle slice through his fingers until the blood started rushing back in and then everything began screaming in pain.

“Hurt today, live tomorrow. Hurt today, live tomorrow,” Levi muttered to himself as the blade became slippery from sweat and blood.

He didn’t even realize he was saying it aloud until he caught the determined look on Eren’s face. They could do nothing but wiggle the blade back and forth in silence.

The second the binding around Levi’s wrists fell free, he tilted his head back in relief. Once their hands were free, they made quick work of the other ropes. There was just the issue of the chain bound around their chests.

“Okay, let’s stand up—“ Levi said.

They both leaned in different directions, causing their heads to snap back together and crack their skulls loudly.

“Follow me,” Levi said through grit teeth.

“Sorry, sir,” Eren said meekly and they struggled up together.

“You need to hold on to me. As close as you can. Make yourself as small as possible, do you hear?”

“I…yes, sir.”

Eren couldn’t wrap his arms around Levi so he instead tucked his head into the crook of Levi’s neck in an attempt to close the gap between them. Levi closed his eyes as he worked on the chain, pulling it down mere inches at a time.  

“Here we need to breath in and then…out. Together,” Levi said and felt Eren’s hot mouth against his ear as he exhaled.

The chain slipped enough so that Levi could pull out his hand. He stared at it and flexed, wincing in pain.

“Here, let’s get you,” Levi said, pulling it so Eren could remove his own hands.

Then they pulled it down to the waist.

“Here, let me just—“

“Sir, you’re accidentally pulling my undershorts off—sir—“

Without the fabric in the way the chain around Eren slipped off easily. He fell out of it, naked and trying very much to hide that fact by covering himself.

“We’re soldiers Eren, it’s nothing we haven’t seen before,” Levi said, but his mouth went dry as Eren bent over to pick up his discarded clothing. “Here, help me with this. I can’t get it off.”

Eren sank to his knees to help.

“It’s stuck on…a button, I think…” Eren complained, trying to free it from Levi’s shirt.

“Just rip it,” Levi said and Eren did.

A button clattered to the floor and they both stared at it, faces burning.

And yet with that small button they had finally won their limbs back but were not yet free of the cellar. Each took their spot at the door, waiting, listening.

“Captain…” Eren said.

“What?” Levi asked, trying to look through the gapped hinges of the door.

He stepped forward and placed his hands behind Levi’s neck and kissed him. Levi didn’t have time to revel in the moment. He stared at Eren with confusion.

“Focus,” he ordered, gripping Eren’s head with his hands. “When this door opens I want you to transform, do you hear me? I want you to make as much steam as you possibly can and then we are going to use the cover to get out of here. Can you do that for me?”

Eren licked his lips. “Yeah. Yes.”

“Good.” Levi released him. “And if you’re still alive when we make it out of here, you can kiss me again.”

“Yes, sir,” Eren saluted.

It took him a moment to fully realize what Levi had said, but by then they were off and running, making their desperate bid for freedom.