Title: Safe Place
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38112859
Squares filled: Panic Attack for @badthingshappenbingo + Protective Alpha!Eddie for @buddiebingo
Pairing: Buck/Eddie - 9-1-1
Rating: General
Word count: 1,460
Summary:Buck runs into someone he never thought he’d see again. Eddie is there to make sure he’s okay.

() Cimmerian (Tutor & Saifah) ~ Bloodstained Clothes

Table of Contents

• Genre: Friendship, fluff, slice of life
• Word Count: 2,702
• Pairing: Tutor, Female Reader, Saifah
• World: Why R U?
• Prompt: O-2 ~ Bloodstained Clothes
• Note: Another period fic.

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“Don’t forget about the test next week! It’s going to be a hard one so you better study this weekend. Dismissed!” The teacher waved his hand at the class before turning around and leaving the room.

The room erupted with noise as the students gathered their things, discussing their weekend plans with their friends. You heaved a sigh, thankful that class was finally over. Your weekend was completely free and you fully intended to spend it lounging around your dorm playing games. Unfortunately for you, life had other plans.

As soon as you stood up, you felt a gush between your legs and you squeaked, sitting back down so quickly that the chair scraped across the ground, gaining the attention of nearby students. Your face burned and you lowered your head to hide it.

‘You’ve got to be kidding me… why now?! I’m not due for another week!’ You swallowed hard, feeling the sticky blood clinging to your panties. You knew as soon as you stood up, it would only get worse and you would most definitely bleed through your clothes. Everyone would make fun of you or be grossed out and you’d earn some stupid nickname that would follow you for the rest of your life!

A warm hand rested on your shoulder and you slowly lifted your head, looking at Tutor through eyes blurred by tears.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned softly, alarmed to see you so upset. You weren’t the type to cry easily, especially not in front of others, so seeing you nearly sobbing at the back of class had him really concerned.

You sniffled, rubbing at your eyes but the tears wouldn’t stop. Tutor was a good friend of yours and he had always been there for you no matter what you needed, but this? Most boyfriends didn’t even want to deal with it and he was just your friend. If you told him, you were sure he would be disgusted, but… what choice did you have? “T-Tutor, I…” you groaned, putting your face in your hands. ‘How the hell am I even supposed to say it?’

He gently squeezed your shoulder. “It’s okay. whatever is bothering you, you can tell me. I’ll do what I can to help.”

You glanced around the classroom. Most of the students had left already but a few were still lingering about. You leaned closer to him, lowering your voice. “I… had an accident.”

“An accident?” He tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You motioned toward your lap, biting your lip.

He followed the movement, brow furrowed as he tried to understand what you were trying to tell him and then it dawned on him. “Ah!”

The sudden exclamation caught the attention of the other students and he sent them an apologetic smile, putting his hands together in front of him.

When he looked back at you, there was no disgust in his eyes, just warmth. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

The kindness brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes and you sniffled, rubbing them away furiously. “I need a change of clothes and… a pad,” you mumbled the last bit, looking down at your lap.

Tutor nodded, setting his books down on the desk in front of you before he shrugged out of his blue engineer shirt, placing it across your lap. “Where is your dorm?”

You pulled the room key from your pocket, handing it over to him along with the information he requested and the location of the items you needed. “Tutor…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Thank you.”

He smiled warmly at you, patting your head. “That’s what friends are for. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Sure…” You bit your lip nervously as he ran from the room, leaving you alone in the classroom with your thoughts. What if a teacher came and forced you out? Would they understand your problem and have sympathy? You doubted it. With a groan, you let your head fall to the desk, feeling a cramp begin to grip tightly at your abdomen. ‘Crap, I should have told him to grab the pain meds, too…’

“Y/N?”

You quickly sat up, expecting to see Tutor but to your horror, it was Saifah, one of the popular boys in your grade. Your body tensed up on instinct, making you wince from the pain it caused in your stomach.

Saifah stepped farther into the room, giving you a curious look. “What are you still doing here? Class ended a while ago, didn’t it?”

“Oh. um… yeah, it did…” you quickly grabbed Tutor’s book and opened it to a random page. “I’m just, uh… studying! For next week’s test…”

“Mm, that sounds pretty suspicious.” He leaned on the desk, tilting his head at you. You tried to ignore his stare but it felt like he was looking into your soul, making you squirm uncomfortably. “You’re up to something.”

“I’m not…” you muttered, not convincing him even a little bit.

His lips parted but he was interrupted when the door creaked open, Tutor rushing inside with a bag slung over his shoulder. He was breathing heavily, sweat making his bangs stick to his forehead.

“Ah, Tutor,” Saifah straightened up, regarding the male curiously. “What are you doing here?”

Tutor’s eyes flickered to you before he smiled kindly. “I’m here to study with Y/N.”

The taller male frowned, looking between the two of you with suspicion in his eyes. “Okay… I’ll join you, then.” He pulled out the chair beside you and you sent a panicked look to Tutor.

“Actually, I think it’s better if it’s just the two of us,” Tutor told him softly.

“Why?”

“Y/N gets too distracted and we need to focus.”

Saifah looked between the two of you again and scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “You guys are definitely hiding something. I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

You groaned, feeling more blood gush from inside you. At this rate, you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without leaving a trail of blood behind. The thought brought tears to your eyes, shoulders trembling.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry… I’m sorry.”

Tutor sighed, closing the distance and motioning for the taller male to lean down. so he could whisper into his ear. Realization flickered across his face and he quickly sat down beside you, placing his arm around your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, it’s natural.”

You sent a half-hearted glare to Tutor who returned it with an apologetic smile.

Saifah gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Come on, let’s get you taken care of. We’ll make sure no one knows, okay?”

You looked into his warm eyes and nodded. How did you get so lucky? Two gorgeous boys were willing to help you out with your period and they didn’t show any signs of discomfort or disgust. Their presence was reassuring. Taking a deep breath, you screwed your eyes shut and stood up, wincing when you felt the gush between your legs. It was warm and sticky and you could feel it soaking through your clothes. You looked at the chair, thankful that there was nothing there.

Saifah glanced at your behind, seeing the blood slowly start to soak through the cloth. He tugged his jacket off and handed it to you. “Wrap this around your waist.”

You frowned at the tan cloth. “But… it’ll stain.”

“It’s fine, just do it.”

You slowly nodded, wrapping it around your waist before you slowly headed for the door, scared to breathe in case it unleashed the waterfall of blood. Tutor led the way toward the bathroom while Saifah stayed behind you, the two acting like guards. You honestly felt so thankful toward them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to voice those thoughts. It was all you could do to keep your head down and not worry about whether or not you were leaking blood everywhere. Tutor handed you the bag when you reached the bathroom, giving you a smile. You bowed to the two before rushing into the bathroom, choosing the stall farthest from the door.

Tutor had really gone all out. Not only did he grab a change of clothes and pads, but he also grabbed some wet wipes, a bottle of water, and some pain meds. ‘He’s too good of a human being… is he even real?’

You felt a bit better after getting cleaned up, but you couldn’t wait to get home and shower, spending the weekend curled up in bed and cursing the universe. You washed your hands, shaking the water from them as you exited the bathroom. You figured the two boys would have gone about their business, but they were both waiting for you outside and you didn’t understand why.

Tutor noticed you first, pushing away from the wall with a smile. “Have you eaten today, Y/N?”

“No… I felt sick at lunch so I skipped. Now I know why…“

“How’s ramen sound?”

Your stomach answered for you, growling loudly which earned a laugh from the taller male. “Don’t worry, I have snacks at my dorm.”

The two exchanged a look.

You bowed, putting your hands together in front of you. “Thank you both so much, I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’ll wash your jacket and return it later.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Tutor offered with a smile, taking your hand before you could refuse. You glanced over your shoulder at Saifah who offered you a wave and a smirk.

It was quiet between the two of you at first, walking side by side and enjoying the crisp night air. The stars were twinkling above like tiny diamonds, the sky clear. Crickets were chirping somewhere in the distance, not the least bit disturbed by the sounds of the city.

“Does it often catch you by surprise?”

“Eh?” Your gaze snapped to Tutor who was watching you curiously.

“Your period, I mean.”

“Ah… no. I usually know when it’s going to start, but sometimes it can come early or late.” You rubbed the back of your head, yawning. “It’s usually because of stress, either way.”

“I see.”

“This is my dorm. Thank you again,” you gave him another bow, turning to enter the building but he followed you, a smirk on his lips. “Tutor?”

“Saifah is on his way with ramen. Let’s relax, okay?”

You huffed at him, pressing the button for the elevator. “I told you it was fine.”

“I know.”

“You ignored me.”

“We did.”

You clicked your tongue, muttering under your breath as you stepped off the elevator, inserting the key into your room. It wasn’t too messy, mostly just clothes strewn about and manga lying everywhere. At least your underwear wasn’t lying in the middle of the floor.

Without hesitation, you sunk to the floor with a sigh, leaning your back against the bed. Tutor settled down in front of you, placing his books on the floor. For a moment, you just watched him as he studied, taking note of the way his lips would part as he silently mouthed the words or the way he’d put the tip of his pen against his lip when he was thinking. It was no wonder he was so popular, he was beautiful inside and out. The perfect man.

You snorted at the thought and he lifted his gaze to yours curiously. “Ah… sorry.”

“You’re fine,” he smiled, returning to his book when his phone dinged. “Saifah is here with the food. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure…” You watched him leave the room, a sigh passing your lips as you curled in on yourself. Today had been very stressful for you and you felt exhausted, both mentally and physically. You were tempted to just crawl into bed and go to sleep, but you didn’t want to do that knowing that Saifah had gone through the trouble of bringing you food.

You smelt it as soon as they opened the door and your stomach grumbled angrily, mouth watering at the heavenly aroma that permeated your room. Saifah grinned when he stepped around the corner, carefully setting the bag on the floor so he could pull out one of the steaming bowls, wrapped with clear plastic so it didn’t spill. He had chosen your favorite flavor and you honestly could have fallen in love then and there. How did he know? You looked at him gratefully.

“What are you staring at me for, hm?” He teased. “Hurry up and eat before it gets soggy.”

“Thank you,” you put your hands together in front of you before peeling the plastic off and bringing the bowl closer. The first bite was heavenly and you ate quicker than you should have as if you had been starved for weeks.

Tutor shook his head as he settled down near you, an amused smile on his face. “Thank you for the food.”

Saifah hummed in acknowledgment, silence settling over the group as you all enjoyed the food. You finished long before them, staring down at the tiny bit of broth left at the bottom of the bowl. With your belly full, you were thinking more clearly and you wanted to properly thank the boys. It may seem insignificant to them, but it meant the world to you. You knew there were very few guys out there who were willing to go so far for just a friend and yet you had two of them sitting right in front of you.

“Thank you,” you told them softly, not lifting your gaze from the bowl because you knew it would be harder to speak your mind if you looked at them.

“You said that already,” Saifah pointed out. “But you’re welcome. It wasn’t too expensive.”

You shook your head. “Not that. I want to thank you for… everything, I guess. Maybe it seems stupid or insignificant to you guys but to me, it… it means a lot to me. So thank you very much!” You lowered your body, ignoring the pain in your back. “No one has ever gone through so much trouble for me before and… I know you probably felt uncomfortable or disgusted… I’m sorry.”

The two exchanged a look, surprised by your sincerity.

Saifah smiled, resting his large hand on top of your head. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

You slowly lifted your head, meeting his gaze. You honestly didn’t know the answer to that because you never thought he saw you that way. You just assumed he viewed you as Tutor’s friend and nothing more. It’s not like the two of you had hung out, but he was always nice to you when you did cross paths. Were you friends?

He clicked his tongue when you didn’t answer, ruffling your hair. “Yes. The answer is yes.”

A smile tugged at your lips and you nodded, gaze brightening up.

“You don’t have to apologize, either,” Tutor set his bowl down and scooted closer, resting his hand over your own. “It’s a natural part of life and you can’t control it. There’s no need to be ashamed.” He smiled softly when you gripped his hand. “I’m happy I was able to help.”

Saifah nodded. “If you ever need help again, don’t hesitate to ask. Friends are there to support each other, you know.”

Tears stung your eyes but you held them back, smiling brightly at the two boys. “I love you guys.”

A smirk tugged at the taller boy’s lips. “You move too fast, Y/N. You only just now realized we’re friends and now you’re confessing to me?”

You scoffed at him. “Please. If I was going to confess to anyone it would be Tutor.”

“You’re choosing Tutor over me?” He pouted, tugging at your free hand.

Tutor laughed, shifting closer so he could pull you into a hug. “Of course, we’ve been friends for years.”

You returned the hug, comforted by the warmth of his body and the soft beating of his heart against your cheek. A soft smile tugged at your lips as Saifah complained about your choice. You had never felt as if luck was on your side but now?

Now you felt like the luckiest girl alive.

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This was originally requested by a very lovely prompter who wanted faux-affectionate villain with Lotor and either Shiro or Keith. I really struggled with the fic for some reason so wrote a different one for them instead. When I decided I was getting back into bthb I wrote this fic and wondered why I struggled so much the first time. Then I checked the original request and realised I’d totally forgotten they asked for Lotor ‍♀️ If the original prompter does read this, I’m sorry it’s not what you wanted!

Also, just to note that I generally don’t write Voltron fics anymore. That isn’t to say I never will again, but at the moment I’m only writing Voltron for bhtb, just to warn anyone who might be expecting me to write more Voltron after this!

Forget Me Not

Fandom:Voltron: Legendary Defender

Prompt: Faux-Affectionate Villain

Characters: Shiro, Keith, Lance, Pidge, Hunk

Warnings: Implied past rape

Summary: “We had an arrangement, the Champion and I, back then. An exchange of favours. Blankets and water and such in return for what I wanted. And I always followed through, didn’t I? Not like some of the others.”

There‘s a throbbing pulse somewhere in the back of Shiro’s head. His face feels too hot, his throat tight. The scar across his nose tingles oddly. It feels a little like the flashback he’d had in Voltron, when they’d first laid eyes on the robeast that had once been Myzax, but slower. More insidious.

Read it on AO3 here!

Shiro doesn’t like this. Normally during intelligence gathering missions like this, they try to avoid any of the higher-level Galra. They’re usually stealth missions, only resorting to fire fights if something goes wrong, but this time, there hadn’t been an easy way to access the terminal. The Galra commander in charge of the ship had still been in the control room when Shiro and Pidge had made it through the blast doors. They’d taken him down quickly, but now Lance and Keith are standing over the Galra kneeling on the floor, hastily tied up, and glaring as Shiro presses his glowing Galra hand to the terminal whilst Pidge downloads the necessary information to the castle.

It’s nothing they haven’t done before. Sometimes situations require them to have to confront the Galra. If they don’t have to, they try not to kill anyone. Sometimes they even manage to get some useful information out of the Galra - if they’re particularly cowardly.

For some reason, though, Shiro has a bad feeling about this. Worse than the normal low-level anxiety he feels whenever any of the paladins are having to deal with actual Galra face-to-face. Worse than even some of the more dangerous intelligence gathering missions. It’s stupid, because this particular Galra is hardly a big player and the ship itself would barely even be a blip on Voltron’s radar if they hadn’t gotten a tip-off that it might have been involved in the Kerberus mission’s capture.

Maybe that’s all it is - this reminder of what had happened to Shiro. Maybe this ship really had been involved in the worst year of his life, and something in the back of Shiro’s brain recognises that. But he doesn’t like it. And he doesn’t want to be here a second longer than he has to be.

“You won’t find anything useful there.”

The voice startles Shiro. It’s the Galra. A strange sensation prickles across the back of Shiro’s neck. There’s a weird sense of deja vu, like he’s heard this Galra’s voice before.

He ignores it. It’s never a good idea to listen to unsolicited advice from the Galra. If they’re trying to offer it up on their own, it’s unlikely to be reliable.

“Shut up,” Keith growls. His bayard is held low in front of the Galra’s face, an implicit threat.

The Galra eyes him cooly. “I was speaking to the Champion,” he says.

“Well don’t,” Shiro snaps. “I don’t need to hear anything you have to say.”

The Galra makes an odd noise. “But I can help you. We can help each other.”

Something spasms at the back of Shiro’s head. There’s a flicker of something, like a shadow of a memory. Shiro flinches away from it automatically.

“We don’t need anything from you,” Keith says.

“Perhaps,” the Galra allows, sounding far too calm and in control for someone with a glowing sword shoved in his face, tied up and on his knees. “But perhaps not. I have information, and I’m not asking for much.”

Shiro doubts that’s true. It’s highly unlikely this Galra knows any more than they’ll be able to gather from the ship itself. And even if he did, it’s not worth risking a debt to their enemy.

“I’m downloading data right from your ship,” Pidge says, dismissively, like she read Shiro’s mind. “I doubt you can tell us more than that.”

The Galra shrugs. “If I can’t, then you won’t need to follow through on your end of the deal.”

“And what is our end of the deal?” Lance asks. His own bayard is pointed at the Galra too, perfectly steady in Lance’s hands.

“All I’m asking for is safety. If the empire finds out you took data from my ship…well, victory or death, as it were.” He gives a low, bitter laugh. “Just get me out of this system and I’ll tell you whatever you need to know.”

“Right,” Keith scoffs. “Because we could trust you not to fuck us over the moment you get on our ship.”

The Galra ignores him. “The Champion will vouch for me.”

Shiro cuts him a sharp look. There’s something strange about this. The Galra says it with such confidence - as if he knows Shiro - and there is a certain familiarity in his voice.

“Why would I do that?” he asks, icily, although he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be encouraging this. All they need to do is download the information and get out of here. Who cares what happens to the Galra after they’re done here?

“I never went back on my word, then, did I?” the Galra asks. “I always honoured our little agreements.”

A trickle of ice slides down Shiro’s spine. Keith looks up sharply, narrowed eyes finding Shiro, but Shiro ignores him. His focus is on the Galra. Does he know him? Does he recognise him from the blank inside his head that’s almost all that’s left of that terrible year?

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, slowly.

“Guys,” Hunk says from where he’s guarding the door, sounding nervous. “Maybe we shouldn’t be talking to the enemy.”

“You don’t remember?” the Galra asks, completely ignoring Hunk. A slow smile slides across his face. He cocks his head and his eyes run up and down the length of Shiro’s body. Despite his armour, Shiro feels strangely vulnerable beneath that gaze.

“Remember what?” Keith asks, as sharp as his eyes had been.

The Galra twitches, like he’s shaking Keith off, but he answers. “We had an arrangement, the Champion and I, back then. An exchange of favours. Blankets and water and such in return for what I wanted. And I always followed through, didn’t I? Not like some of the others.”

There‘s a throbbing pulse somewhere in the back of Shiro’s head. His face feels too hot, his throat tight. The scar across his nose tingles oddly. It feels a little like the flashback he’d had in Voltron, when they’d first laid eyes on the robeast that had once been Myzax, but slower. More insidious.

Shiro shakes his head. He doesn’t - he doesn’t remember, not properly, but he suddenly wants to be very far away from here. For the other paladins to be very far away from here - back on Earth, maybe, where none of this could touch them.

“We don’t exchange favours with Galra,” he says, coldly.

The Galra makes an affronted noise. “What? You’re going to let me die, after everything I did for you?”

“You didn’t do anything for me.”

There’s a wild look on the Galra’s face. Shiro wonders if it’s true - if the Galra really will be killed just for being overpowered. It doesn’t sound unbelievable, considering the Galra. But Voltron have been responsible for plenty of Galra deaths. Shiro can acknowledge that. One more is just another blip on the radar.

“I helped keep you alive,” the Galra snarls, low and vicious. “I could have just taken what I wanted. I could have just raped you like the others.”

An electric shock jolts right through Shiro. Suddenly he isn’t in the command room anymore - he’s on another ship, in another time. There are claws digging into his shoulder, his throat, his hips. Bruises on his knees that didn’t come from a fight. An ache in his jaw. A searing, throbbing pain deep in the core of him - a filthy, violating agony that hurts more than any of his arena wounds.

He gasps.

“Get on your knees,” the Galra growls in his ear, thick with lust. Shiro’s throat is so dry, aching from the lack of water. The bottle the Galra is holding - the promise of more, when Shiro has been starved of it for so long - is like a siren call. Burning with hate and embarrassment, Shiro sinks to his knees.

Someone slams him into the bars of his cell. There’s no water this time - no promise of anything, just rough hands on his hips, a burly thigh pressing his legs apart. Teeth on his neck and pain and pain.

There’s sand in his mouth. Someone at his back. Shiro tries to roll away from them, but his mangled arm screams in furious agony and - it’s not even so bad, really, compared to the nauseating pain in his arm. If he just lies still it will be over soon. God, let it be over soon.

“Shiro?” someone says, soft and scared.

Shiro blinks and the command room slowly materialises around him. It had felt like a long time - trapped in that flashback - but it can’t have been more than a few seconds. The Galra is still on his knees in front of him. The paladins are still standing in their positions, although all of their eyes are on him.

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Keith asks, in a voice that lashes like a whip.

Fuck. Fuck.

Bile rises up the back of Shiro’s throat. His body feels stiff as a board, but he’s trembling, he notices, in a distant sort of way. He doesn’t feel entirely in his body. There’s a part of him that’s still on that prisoner ship, sharp claws buried in his skin, a monstrous alien panting over him.

He can’t tell them, the part of him that’s the Black Paladin, their commanding officer, Keith’s mentor, hisses. They can’t know what Shiro had just witnessed in painful technicolour.

They already do, another part of him argues. One of the Galra who’d raped him had just announced it to the whole room. Shiro hadn’t even known…

What else doesn’t he remember? What else had he done in the year he’d blocked out of his mind? If he’d been willing to whore himself out to the Galra for a bottle of water, what else had they managed to make him do?

He feels sick. How can he trust himself? How can anyone else ever trust him again?

“Shiro,” Keith says, the name tinged with desperation. “What does he mean?”

Keith’s eyes are wide and pleading. The other paladins are staring at him too, faces pale and shocked. Shiro shouldn’t - he should find a way to reassure them. He should tell them that the Galra is lying, that nothing like that had happened, but the words stick in his throat and choke him.

“Ignore him,” he manages, finally. His throat feels like it’s glass coming up from his chest rather than words. He sounds like it too, strained and broken.

“Ignore him?” Keith asks, incredulously. “He - Shiro…”

Keith’s voice shatters over his name. Shiro flinches. He has to turn away. To stare at where his hand - his Galra hand - is pressed into the console, glowing a sickly purple.

“Shiro,” Keith says, again, like it’s all he knows how to say. “What -? Raped?”

Shiro shivers at the word - at the strangled, devastated way Keith says it.

“Not now,” Shiro grunts. Not ever, if he has his way - although not a single one of the paladins is likely to ever let this go - but especially not here, with one of the Galra who raped him kneeling on the floor and grinning at them.

“Sorry,” the Galra says - Shiro had slept with him and he doesn’t even know his name - not sounding sorry at all, “did you not want them to know that? There’s no shame in taking what help you can. And we can help each other.” A moment of tense, awful silence. “I won’t expect a fuck this time.”

Keith snarls, a low, animal sound. There’s a loud crack, and Shiro glances up in time to see Lance’s bayard bouncing off the back of the Galra’s skull.

“Shut up,” he growls, in a voice that Shiro has never heard from the blue paladin. “Stop talking.”

The Galra keeps his head down for a long moment, submitting to Lance’s anger. Shiro stares at the back of his neck. At the soft purple fur there. Shiro’s own neck is marred with scars. Most of them from the arena, Shiro assumes, but some of them must have been from this Galra - from other Galra - bite marks and claw marks, scarring Shiro with the evidence of what they had done to him.

And Shiro wouldn’t have even known. If it weren’t for this encounter, would he ever have remembered? Would he have recognised the scars for what they are? Or would they forever have been lost amongst the ruined topography of his flesh?

He shivers again. His throat aches with the sting of bile. It reminds him, hatefully, of a different ache. Of flesh rubbed raw. Of another bitter, ugly taste on his tongue.

No. Shiro needs to stop this. He isn’t there anymore. He can’t let himself sink into the past. His team need him here - need him present. He can freak out about this later, when he’s sure he’s alone and no one else can get hurt.

A hand touches his shoulder. It’s a feather-light touch, but Shiro still flinches, not expecting it, the sense-memory of large, claw-tipped hands pressing him cruelly to his knees too fresh and raw.

“Sorry,” Pidge murmurs, retracting her hand like Shiro had burnt her. “The download has finished. We can - we can get out of here.”

Shiro tugs his arm free from the console, but doesn’t power it down. He doesn’t think he can, not while he’s so full of restless energy - something close to panic.

“We‘ve got what we came for,” he says to the rest of the paladins, because no one has made any move. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” the Galra says, desperately. “You can’t leave me here. Not after everything I did for you! You might as well just kill me and -“

He’s cut off by Keith practically leaping at him, snarling, knocking the Galra heavily to the ground and pinning him there with a sword at his furred throat.

“I should kill you right now,” he growls, barely sounding human. His hands are trembling where he’s gripping the sword, his face red with fury. Lance steps back, but his own bayard is still pointed unerringly at the Galra’s head.

“Keith,” Shiro snaps. In two quick steps, he reaches the red paladin, looping his arm around Keith’s chest and dragging him upright, away from the Galra. Leaving him here might be a death sentence, but that doesn’t mean Shiro is willing to sit back and watch Keith murder a living creature in cold blood.

Shiro knows better than anyone, the toll that can take. Knowing your actions might lead to the death of another, and actually taking that life with your own hands, feeling the heat of their blood, watching the light leave their eyes, are two entirely different things.

Maybe they shouldn’t be, but Shiro can’t deny that they are.

“Leave him, Keith. He isn’t worth it.”

For a moment, Keith strains against his hold. If he truly wanted to, the red paladin could probably break it - Shiro is holding him in an awkward, one-armed hold that Keith could easily twist out of. He doesn’t. Instead, Shiro feels the fight leave his body. Slowly, he eases his grip, stepping away when he’s sure Keith isn’t about to attack again.

“Let’s go,” Keith says, in a rough voice, not looking at Shiro, before turning to leave.

They leave the Galra lying on the ground where Keith had dropped him. He calls after them again, one final time, but no one turns. If he is telling the truth, and the other Galra will kill him for this, Shiro doesn’t care. He’d deserve it.

The trip back to the green lion is tense and silent. Shiro can sense the other paladins’ worry. He can see them stealing less-than-subtle glances at him. He ignores it, keeping his own gaze fixed ahead of him, pretending he can’t feel the tension humming in the air around him.

The silence lasts as long as it takes the green lion’s hatch to close.

“Shiro,” Lance says, sounding as devastated as Keith had.

“Don’t,” Shiro says without even really meaning to, feeling weak and pathetic, “please don’t.”

There’s another tense silence. Then: “Raped,” Keith says, short and sharp. “He said you’d been raped Shiro.”

Shiro’s throat hurts. His chest feels too tight. What is he supposed to say? How can he justify this?

“He didn’t mean…” but he trails off. He can’t say the Galra didn’t mean it. No one will believe that, and the lie tastes sour and salty on his tongue.

Two broad arms wrap around him, carefully, slowly, to give Shiro time to pull away. He hates it - hates the casual affection and the obvious pandering to his potential triggers - but he doesn’t pull away. Hunk doesn’t deserve his aggression. He’s only trying to help.

“I’m sorry,” Hunk murmurs, sounding choked, his face pressed into Shiro’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Shiro does jerk away, then. He doesn’t want this. He hates the fact that this has happened - that he’d been fucking abducted by aliens, tortured, forced to kill, experimented on, and now this. That there’s no part of him that the Galra haven’t touched. Nothing that hasn’t been tainted and violated.

And that it’s not just him who’s been confronted with this awful reality. If he’d just had a nightmare or a flashback he could have handled it himself - an awful, disturbing realisation, but something that could be hidden. If he’d been alone, he could have pretended it didn’t happen, as best as he could.

Instead, every single member of his team had listened to the Galra reveal this brutal secret. They’re so young, still children. They don’t need to be burdened by this.

“Did you know?” Keith asks. He’s still shaking, anger and heartbreak clear on his face. “Did you…why didn’t you tell us?”

Shiro’s chest aches. His face is hot with shame and his own anger. Even if he had remembered, there’s no way in hell he would have ever told the other paladins of his own volition.

“No,” he says, shortly. “I didn’t know.”

“Do you -“ Lance starts, but Shiro cuts him off. He doesn’t want to discuss this with the paladins. He doesn’t want to reveal any more of himself to them.

“I’m not going to discuss it,” he says, more sharply than he means to. “It’s not something any of you need to worry about.”

“Shiro,” Pidge starts, at the same time as Hunk says, “But we are worried.”

“I’m not going to discuss it,” Shiro says, again, this time a clear command. He moves stiffly to the other end of the green lion hangar, putting distance between himself and the rest of the paladins. “Get us back to the castle, Pidge. Now.”

There’s a tense silence. Shiro can sense the other paladins exchanging glances, unhappy and upset. But Shiro can’t deal with this now. His head is too much of a mess, hateful memories crowding, clamouring for attention. He needs a moment to be able to sort through the emotions swirling in his gut. He needs…

He needs to not be here. But he is.

Thankfully, the other paladins give him space, but Shiro knows that won’t last long. He’s dreading the inevitable interrogation he’s sure he’ll be subjected to. He’s dreading the conversation he’ll have to have with Keith.

He needs to get himself together, as quickly as possible. Compartmentalise. Repress. The ghosts of claws at his skin and teeth at his neck are not helpful. Shiro needs to push through this. Nothing has technically changed between this moment and just a few hours ago. He’d been as violated then as he is now. He just hadn’t known.

He does now, but it doesn’t change anything.

It can’t.

~ Rape / Non-Con ~

NSFW

Vox machina had been at the party for a short while when Sylas and Delilah Briarwood stepped into the main hall. They had decided once Percy explained how he knew them that Vax would go check there room for anything suspicious. After what could have only been 10 minutes of searching the room Vax found a magic book of some kind, he was about to leave when the fire was blown out by a large gust of wind. Vax turned towards the fire and then back towards where he found the book only now Sylas stood in the chests place. “My my your a curious one aren’t you ?” Sylas said almost flirtatiously. He stepped towards Vax placing a gentle hand onto his cheek. Sylas pulls Vax towards the rooms large canopy bed and pushes him down onto the mattress.

Vax is almost half the size of Sylas and no matter how hard he tires he can’t push Sylas off of him. Vax isn’t one to panic but he can feel the panic settling deep within his chest as Sylas begins to remove the younger males clothing slowly and almost teasingly. Vax is never one to shy away from sex but he’s not sure wether it’s the way Sylas towers above him or the sheer panic rising in his chest but this is not going to be Pleasant.

Both Vax and Sylas are completely naked now, Vax has been trying to get free struggling against Sylas’s strong hands to no avail. The panic in his chest is bubbling over now as callous hands run from his chest to his lower abdomen. Sylas starts kissing at Vax’ildans neck, he gasps at the sudden contact and screws his eyes shut quickly. Sylas wastes no time in grabbing the lube from the dresser next to the bed. He spread a thin layer over his fingers, he lined the first finger up with Vax’s hole and pushed in roughly. Vax let out a sharp exhale and began to scream, this was not happening ! Nope not happening. Sylas paid him no mind and simply used his other hand to cover Vax’s mouth. After another minute or two Sylas added a second finger and then a third. Once he was satisfied that Vax was stretched enough that he could fit comfortably inside him he lined himself up with his hole. He pushed down to the base of his cock in one quick movement, Vax’ildan let out another scream. “P…please stop, I … I won’t say anything I promise. J..just let me go please” Vax begged. His words where left untouched as Sylas thrusted hard into Vax and grunted.

Sylas must have been getting close because his thrust got harder and much faster. Vax was still struggling to free himself and still failing to do so. Vax must have been screaming more than he himself had realised because not only had Sylas’s hand found it’s way back to his mouth his throat was dry and soar. The thrust were still getting harder and deeper, Sylas’s mouth came up to meet Vax’s neck again this time leaving bite marks in its wake. With small moans and little grunt Sylas finished in Vax’ildan but he wasn’t finished with him yet. Sylas grabbed Vax’s hair and pulled him down towards his dick, he quickly pushed it down his throat causing him to choke slightly. Vax tried to pull him self away but the grip Sylas had on his hair was far to tight.

After what felt like and eternity Sylas grabbed back onto Vax’s hair and pulled him to the large doors that opened up into the hallway and threw him against the wall and left his clothes in a pile next to him. Vax hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until he slumped down against the wall panting trying to collect his breath. He whispered a quiet “Jenga” before tears started streaming down his flushed checks. He didn’t have enough energy to move let alone put his clothes back on so he stayed slumped against the wall and allowed his eyes to close. It wasn’t long before the rest of Vox machina was running up to Vax. “Brother … what on earth happened ?” Vex said with a hint of worry. “Are you crying Vax ? What the hell happened in there” Scanlan was the next to speak. Vex looked at her brothers state and now she understood why Percy wanted revenge on the Briarwoods so badly. “H…hurts” Vax’ildan said weakly, it was all he could manage. That was all it took for the others to realise just what Sylas had done to him, Vax couldn’t look any of them in the eyes after it became clear what had happened. Percy offered to help Vax’ildan back into his clothes if not to embarrass him further, he was reluctant but accepted the help if only to get him back to the keep quicker. Vex pulled her brother to his feet and slung his arm over her shoulder but it was no use his leg where shacking underneath him. Grog lifted Vax into his arms and carried him back to the keep where he laid him on the bed as gently as he could and left him there to rest. Sylas Briarwood will pay for this Vex will make sure of it.

{Word Count - 890}

——————————

@badthingshappenbingo

PROMPT - “it’s all my fault”
CHARACTER - Tabby Nic'hel (Space Intern ocs)

anyway, here’s Whumperwall
as always, thank you to @badthingshappenbingo for the card!

They were invited to a conference in the Jericho Galaxy, so they went to the Jericho Galaxy.

And then Brando and Tabby became hostages.

By the third day of the conference, Tabby had started to feel a little overwhelmed. As interesting as the panels and presentations were, they weren’t enough to distract from how loud and crowded the conference center was.

It had been Brando’s idea to get away from it all for an afternoon. “We’ll go to the docking bay, hang out on Aegis,” he said.

Tabby wasn’t difficult to convince. “Okay,” she said. “I told Blare I’d meet her for a presentation, but I’ll meet you for lunch after?”

The presentation turned out to be very boring, but Blare and Tabby kept each other awake. They parted after the presentation, and Tabby headed straight for the docking bay. She strolled through the rows upon rows of crafts with her hands in her pockets.

She arrived at Aegis and scoffed. Brando had lowered the ramp, but had forgotten to raise it after he’d boarded. He’s lucky it’s just me. Blare would have thrown a fit if she’d seen.

Tabby ascended the ramp and headed for the lift. Its platform was two levels up – at the communal space. But when Tabby tried to connect to the system and summon the platform back to her level, nothing happened. Tabby rolled her eyes at Aegis’s glitchy behavior and took the stairs.

Tabby reached the communal space and checked the dining hall first. Brando wasn’t there. She checked the kitchen next, but he wasn’t there either.

Tabby left the kitchen and was headed toward the stairs to check the cabins when she heard a chirpover Aegis’s speaker system, followed by a voice she had never heard before.

“Come to the bridge.”

Tabby’s face went cold. She turned very slowly to see the monitor in the lounge showing a video feed.

A young human with long silvery-blonde hair hovered over Aegis’s helm. His left hand was encased in a sleek bronze metal glove.

Tabby’s eyes darted to the corner of the screen, where she saw Brando bound to the wall by a single wrist.

Tabby glanced back at the primary lift. For half of a moment, she wondered if she could make a break for it and get help. But she looked over at the bridge lift and had a strong feeling that if she didn’t do what she was told, Brando was going to suffer for it.

“I’m on my way,” she said.

The man at the helm nodded. Then the video feed cut and the bridge lift’s platform lowered to Tabby’s level.

Tabby got on. It took her up. As soon as the platform stopped moving, Tabby stepped onto the bridge and looked into the face of her captor. His eyes were cold, but Tabby could see the red around his irises.

Has he been…crying?

“I didn’t want this,” the man said suddenly. He lifted his left hand – the one encased in the glove – and Tabby could see his fingers were shaking. “All I wanted – all I wanted was to leave quietly and get my pay. I’m a fuckingdead man, now!” the man shouted. Tabby flinched. “You’ve seen me. You’ve seen everything. I’ll be hunted until the day I die, and that’s pretty fucking soon if I don’t finish this job.”

Tabby let him ramble, her eyes flicking over to Brando. She raised an eyebrow in hopes she could convey the question: are you okay? Brando nodded confirmation. Then Tabby turned back to the burglar. “Maybe we can help you,” she said.

The man chuckled wetly. He sniffled. “Not likely,” he said.

“We can try,” Tabby said. “What’s your name? I’m Tabby.”

The burglar wrinkled his nose. Tabby could see tears welling in his eyes.

“He’s Brando,” Tabby offered, jerking her head in Brando’s direction. Brando gave a small wave with his free hand. “Come on. What do we call you?”

The burglar took a shaky breath. “…Frand,” he whispered.

“Thanks, Frand,” Tabby said, her hopes rising. “Why don’t we unbind Brando over there and we’ll talk this out, okay?”

Frand didn’t make a move. He sniffled.

“Please?” Tabby pressed.

“I don’t trust you,” Frand said.

Tabby swallowed. “I know you don’t.” She smiled ruefully. “I don’t really trust you either. But we can start trusting each other now. I –“ She broke off and looked at Brando. He nodded. Tabby looked back at Frand and took a deep breath. “I can show you how to lift the ramp and raise shields,” she said. “Then we won’t be bothered by anyone else. All I’m asking is that you free Brando.”

Frand considered this. Finally, he nodded.

Tabby and Frand did exactly as Tabby said, and then Frand opened Brando’s cuff. Brando got to his feet, his eyes on Frand the whole time. Frand’s eyes darted between the pair. “What now?” he asked.

“Now, we figure out our options,” Tabby said.

“Maybe we start by talking about this job you’re on,” Brando suggested. “I’m assuming it has to do with that thing on your hand?”

Frand looked down at the glove. He curled his fingers. “Yeah.”

“What is it?” Tabby asked.

Frand’s eyes welled with tears again. “It’s an empathic gauntlet.”

“So, you use it to feel what others are feeling?” Brando guessed.

Frand shook his head. “The other way around.” He sniffed. “You can make anyone feel anything.”

“That’s a pretty powerful device,” Tabby remarked.

Frand snorted. “Except it’s just a fucking prototype. You have to touch someone with it for it to work.”

Brando and Tabby exchanged a glance. So we’re safe as long as he doesn’t touch us.

“What’s your job, then?” Tabby asked. “What were you hired to do?”

Frand shook his head. “It was supposed to be easy,” he whispered.

“What was it?” Brando pressed.

Frand uncurled his fist. “I just had to sneak this from the conference to – to my employer,” he said. “But he changed the location, and I – my ship can’t go that far. I needed transportation.”

“So you went for the smallest craft docked at the conference center,” Brando realized. Frand nodded. “Except –“

“Exceptyou came along,” Frand snarled. After his outburst, he went deathly silent. He took in a deep breath, then exhaled shakily.

“So,” Brando said hesitantly, “you need a ride.”

“Yes,” Frand snapped.

“Okay – okay, I understand,” Brando said, holding up his hands. “But –“ He pursed his lips, then admitted, “The thing is, neither of us know how to pilot this craft.”

Frand’s hands shook. “You don’t even…” He took another shuddering breath. “So you’re more useful dead than alive.”

Brando paled.

“No – no, we’re not,” Tabby cut in. “Listen, Frand. If you kill us, you’re committing an even more severe crime.” She gestured to the crests on her and Brando’s chests. “Look at us. We’re SCS interns. You really think they won’t come at a murder case of their own people with everything they’ve got? They’ll find you, Frand. We’re too messy to dispose of.”

Frand’s breathing quickened as Tabby spoke. Then, when she finished, he moaned. “But if I don’t get this to my employer, then Idie.”

“Then work with us,” Tabby said. “We’ll get someone to protect you.”

“I…I…” Frand swallowed. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“Well, it’s either that or you’re on your own,” Tabby said. “It’s up to you.”

Frand looked down at the empathic gauntlet on his hand. He flexed his fingers. His brow furrowed in thought, and his tears dried up. His face turned red.

Tabby stiffened. He’s not going to trust us, she realized. So she acted.

Tabby lifted her head, her gaze on the empty space behind Frand, and gasped loudly. “We’re being hailed!” she lied.

Frand’s head shot up, and he instinctively turned to see. Tabby rushed forward to knee Frand in the groin. Frand yowled, curling in on himself, and Tabby smashed her elbow into the base of his skull.

Frand stumbled forward, his gasp cut short as his eyes rolled back and he dropped to the floor.

Tabby stepped backwards. Brando came up beside her.

“Is he out?” Brando asked.

“Not for long,” Tabby said. “Come on, we need to bind him.”

“Y-Yeah.”

Brando and Tabby knelt beside Frand. Brando lifted Frand’s right wrist and held it to the cuff he’d just been bound to. Meanwhile, Tabby started unbuckling the gauntlet on Frand’s left hand.

“That was really clever,” Brando remarked as he locked the cuff.

“Thanks.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Brando said. “It could have gone really badly and I hope you never do anything like that again, but –“

“You couldn’t just leave it as a compliment, huh?”

Brando chuckled. Tabby allowed herself a smile.

And then, without opening his eyes, Frand turned his left hand over and grasped Tabby’s wrist.

Tabby tried to pull back, but Frand had a firm grip. Tabby felt a rush of cold, and then –

Brando reared back and landed a punch on Frand’s jaw. Frand’s head smacked against the wall, and he fell still again. Tabby fell backwards onto the floor, and Brando unfastened the rest of the gauntlet’s buckles before pulling the glove from Frand’s hand and throwing it across the bridge.

Brando whirled around and dropped to his knees. “Tabby – Tabby, did he get you?” he demanded. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Tabby, say something.”

Tabby’s eyes were stretched wide, and there were tears welling in the corners.

“Tabby – Tabby, come on,” Brando pleaded, gripping her shoulders tighter.

“Oh, no,” Tabby ground out. “No, no – it’s – it’s my fault.”

“Tabby!”

A delirious laugh made Brando turn his head. Frand’s eyes were half-open, and he was smiling weakly.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Brando growled.

“I–“ Frand broke off in a giggle. “I only gave her all the guilt she’s ever felt.”

Brando’s heart leapt into his throat. He turned back to Tabby; her cheeks were slick with tears. “It’s my fault,” Tabby said through gritted teeth. “Oh, Castor and Pollux, it’s my fucking fault – it’s all my fault, it’s all –“

Brando pulled Tabby toward him and threw his arms around her. He squeezed tightly. “C’mon, dumbass, come back,” he mumbled into her hair. “You’re okay.”

“It’s all my – it’s my –“ Tabby couldn’t finish a single thought, her breaths coming in rapid gasps. “No – no – no–“

Brando curled his fingers into fists. He breathed slowly against her, hoping that she would instinctively follow his rhythm.

Tabby took in a breath, huffed, and then inhaled again. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered.

“Even if it is,” Brando murmured, “it’s okay. You’ll be okay. C’mon, you’ve got to hear me.”

Tabby’s exhales continued to tremble, but they evened out. Her inhales became slower, more controlled. Finally, her muscles relaxed.

Brando leaned back. He raised a hand to cup Tabby’s cheek, and her tears seeped between his fingers. “You with me?” he asked.

Tabby’s eyes wouldn’t meet his, but she nodded. “Holy shit,”she muttered. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. “That was unpleasant.”

Brando rubbed her shoulder. “Yeah,” he said. “It was.” He sat down beside her. “You’ll be alright, though.”

“I know.” Tabby pressed her palms to her eyes. “Ugh.”

“Does your head hurt?” Brando asked.

“No,” Tabby said, “it’s just…confused.” She drew her legs close to her chest and laid her chin on her knees. Brando put an arm around her shoulders. “I feel like I just time-traveled.”

“Do you know what that feels like?” Brando asked.

“No. Shut up.” Tabby rolled her eyes. “I’m saying, it really felt like I was…back. There. On Hel. When I was a kid.” She shrugged. “And now I’m here again.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Kind of, yeah.” But then she didn’t speak for half a minute. She rubbed her eyes, tapped her feet, ran her fingers through her hair. Eventually, she groaned and burrowed her face into her arms. “I don’t know where to start.”

“I’m not in a rush,” Brando assured her.

“I am. I want to get this over with,” Tabby admitted. She let the next words tumble out of her mouth without thinking. “My mom’s not a good person.”

Brando nodded. “Okay.”

“When I was little, I just thought – that’s how parents are,” Tabby said. “But then I started going to school, and…” She swallowed. “Well, I realized my teachers, my classmates, my neighbors – everyone danced around me. They were afraid.”

Brando furrowed his brow inquiringly.

“Of my mom,” Tabby clarified. “They’d never even met her. But they knew who I was, and who she was, and they – they wanted nothing to do with us. Who would?” she added bitterly. She turned her head to the side and met Brando’s eyes. “She’s a crime boss.”

Brando blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah. She’s the head of one of the biggest crime syndicates in Eastern Hel,” Tabby explained. “And I – I –“ She bowed her head. “I’ve seen some things, Brando.” Brando leaned against her. “I watched her –“ Tabby cut herself off, took a deep breath, and said, “I watched her do a lot of bad shit, and I didn’t do anything.”

Brando couldn’t help himself. “Tabby, you were a kid.”

Tabby rounded on him and snapped, “I’m not a kid anymore.” Then she deflated. “I’m sorry. I just – I’m not powerless. Not now. And I feel like –“

“It’s not your fault. It’s hers.”

“Mhm.”

Brando had the feeling that Tabby was just humoring him. But he also knew that she was still reeling from the emotional experience she’d just had, and that he wasn’t going to convince her to believe him in that moment. So instead of fighting it, Brando just squeezed Tabby’s shoulder and leaned his head on top of hers. Tabby rested her head on his shoulder. They listened to the hum of Aegis for another few minutes.

Eventually, Brando nudged Tabby in the shoulder. “You ready to call the others and end this?” he asked.

Tabby pressed her lips together and nodded. Brando got to his feet. He turned and helped Tabby stand.

Tabby held onto his hand for a moment longer. “Listen, about –“

“It stays between us until you say otherwise,” Brando said.

Tabby smiled. “Thank you.”

PROMPT - serum injection
CHARACTER - Slipper Hecatezen (Space Intern ocs)

So, tumblr ate your ask, @randomlifeunit - that’s fun! I’m sorry this took so long, and thank you for the submission, friend!

And, thanks as always to @badthingshappenbingo for the card!

After a devastating world war, the planet Perses had been reclassified to Class 0 – a certified “failure” of a planet. It was practically uninhabitable, with pockets of continents oozing with radioactivity. The Perseans that survived the war had been evacuated and relocated across the galaxy.

Slipper didn’t think a mission on Perses – even in a designated safe zone – sounded like a good idea.

He was right.

Slipper led the way through the streets, Brando and Tabby close behind.

“Okay. This is…great. I love it. I love this.”

“Brando, shut up.”

“No, it’s fine! It’s awesome. I love being in a ghost city on a planet that has two hours of sunlight a day.” There had been light while they were briefed, but night had fallen since they’d entered the city.

Yowling echoed through a nearby alley. Brando jumped.

Tabby rolled her eyes. “It’s just a roz fight,” she said. “Calm yourself.”

“Not all of us know every single creature in the universe by the sounds they make,” Brando grumbled.

“You shouldn’t waste your energy with focus on fear,” Slipper said.

“Easier said than done,” Brando said.

“Especially for a braveless like Brando,” Tabby teased.

Click.

Slipper stopped in his tracks. He looked down at his foot.

“What’s wrong?” Tabby asked.

“I appear to have tripped a trap,” Slipper answered. At the same time, there was a loud whistling sound as something hurtled through the air.

Slipper felt something strike his neck.

Tabby and Brando gasped. “Fuck!” Tabby cried. “Slipper, you –“

Slipper raised a hand to touch the foreign object. It appeared to be a syringe. He tugged, but the needle wouldn’t come loose.

“Holy shit – hang on,” Brando said, rushing forward. He reached up and touched the syringe. “Oh, okay – that’s a good sign,” he said in a voice too high to be genuine. “It’s, uh – it’s stuck between your scales. Tilt your head.”

Slipper tilted his head away from Brando, ignoring the prick of pain that followed.

Brando gripped the syringe with one hand and placed his other palm against Slipper’s neck. “I should be able to…” Slipper felt a pinch. “There we go. Got it.”

Brando stepped away, syringe in hand. Tabby stepped closer.

“Let me see that,” she demanded. Brando handed over the syringe. Tabby inspected it with a hum. “Um…Slipper, a bunch of this went into you.”

“I’m aware,” Slipper said, and collapsed.

“Slipper – Slipper!” Hands grabbed his arms as his knees buckled. A face entered his line of sight. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Slipper gritted his teeth and hissed. “What was in that syringe?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” Tabby said. “Talk to me – what’s happening, and what can we do?”

Brando shushed them suddenly. He cupped his ear. Slipper raised his head to listen, but there was ringing in his eardrum. After a few moments, Brando threw Slipper’s arm over his shoulder and started to lift him. “I hear voices,” he whispered.

“No one should be anywhere on this continent,” Tabby said. “What do you mean, you hear–“

A bright light washed over them all.

Slipper could hear an engine revving somewhere within the headlight’s too-bright beam. He curled his lip and shut his eyes.

“Oh, Dioscuri,” Tabby swore. “That guy’s got a plasma burner.”

Brando nodded. “We’ve got to fucking move!”

Tabby threw Slipper’s arm over her shoulder, rose, and then all three fell in step to hobble onward. Slipper tried to walk faster, but his left foot had gone numb. He shuffled along with Brando and Tabby to support him.

An ear-splitting tseew pierced the air as a bolt of electric energy crackled past them. Brando gasped and tightened his grip on Slipper’s wrist. “I see an alley – past the library!” he said.

Tabby nodded. “Let’s hope there’s a back door.”

Another bolt of electricity shot past them.

As they entered the alley, Tabby slid out of the support chain. She rushed ahead and tested the door. At first, it wouldn’t budge. But she quickly picked the lock and the door slid open. “In!” she shouted.

Brando bore the brunt of Slipper’s weight as they entered the building. Tabby slammed her elbow down on the keypad, shattering the screen, and then followed. She shut the door the moment she was through and set the lock from inside.

“That should hold them, right?” Brando asked as he helped Slipper sit down on the floor.

Tabby nodded. “Yeah. Slipper, you still with us?”

Slipper’s nostrils flared. He spat something in a Hecatean hiss. Then he said, “My vision is compromised, and I have numbness.”

“What do you need?”

Slipper barely had a moment to process what she had said before it suddenly felt as if a solid mass were striking straight through his head. He folded over, grasping his temples with his claws.

“Fuck,” Tabby spat. “I’m getting in touch with Aegis. Brando, get ready to move him. We need to get to the roof and get off this planet.” She tapped her chest four times. “Nic’hel to Aegis,” she said. She waited. “Nic’hel to Aegis,” she said again. She tapped her chest another four times.

“Don’t tell me,” Brando said dryly.

“Yep. Scrambled signal.”

“Okay,” Brando sighed. “So we’re sieged by unknown predators on a planet that’s supposed to be uninhabited. We can’t reach Aegis. Slipper’s –“

“Brando, the recap is not helping.” Tabby reached into her sash and pulled out her glasses, hooked them over her ears, and tapped the frames. “Hm.” She forward to reach into the darkness and pulled something off a shelf. She held it out for Brando to see.

“Vitamins?” Brando said. “Are we in a drugstore?”

Slipper’s breath rattled, but he managed to croak, “Look for triptans.”

“Triptans?” Tabby echoed.

“Or anti-inflammatory tablets,” Slipper said. “Triptans are…preferable.”

“Do you know what the serum was?” Brando asked.

“I do not,” Slipper said, “but I know what it is doing.“ He hissed. “It has triggered a severe migraine.”

“Triptans or anti-inflammatories. On it,” Tabby said, slipping into the gloom. She moved stealthily through the racks, her eyes skimming the labels. Fortunately, they were written in Standard; before its reclassification, Perses had been a Gal-U affiliate.

It didn’t take long for Tabby to find a bottle of triptan tablets. She snatched it from the rack and returned to her crewmates. She announced her arrival, but kept her voice low, for Slipper’s sake. “I found some triptans.”

Slipper didn’t even crack open an eye. His nostrils flared, and he asked, “Water?”

“Yeah, I’ve got my flask,” Brando said, reaching into his sash.

Tabby poured three tablets into her palm. “Here,” she said, kneeling in front of Slipper. She took his hand and uncurled his clenched claws before dropping the tablets into his hand.

Slipper held out his other hand. Brando handed him his unscrewed flask. Slipper sipped at the flask, then popped the tablets into his mouth.

“How long will it take for these to help?” Tabby asked.

Slipper swallowed. “I have not eaten since the midwake meal,” he murmured, “so they will likely take effect within the hour.”

“And we were supposed to check in with Aegis at around the same time,” Brando recalled. “When we don’t, they’ll realize something’s wrong.”

“So, what? All we can do is wait?” Tabby asked.

Slipper closed his eyes and burrowed his face into his arms. “All we can do is wait.”

PROMPT:incapable of disobeying
CHARACTER:Glen Ptahfi (space intern ocs)

as always, thank you to @badthingshappenbingo for the card! :)

After it was all said and done, Brando and Tabby had a few scrapes, so Slipper took them back to Aegis to patch them up.

Blare and Glen, however, stayed on the planet to thank a new friend of theirs. His name was Lian, and he had been a huge help during their mission.

“I’d been saving this!” Lian called from his kitchen. He emerged with a tray. There were three glasses of ice water, three shot glasses, and a bottle of liquor. He gestured to the liquor. “I’d say this counts as a special occasion, right?”

“If not now, when?” Blare joked.

Lian grinned. “Exactly,” he said. He set the tray down. “You’ll want to hydrate after,” he said, uncapping the liquor. “This gives you a keen buzz, but a hangover if you’re not careful.”

Glen picked up a glass of water. “I’m dehydrated, anyway,” he said. He downed the entire thing while Lian poured the shots.

Lian picked one shot up and handed it to Blare. “For Minervas,” he said. He picked up another and handed it to Glen. “For Ptahfi,” he said. “And here’s to your next adventure,” he said, lifting the final glass.

“Cincin,” Blare and Glen said. They touched glasses knocked the shots back.

Glen pulled a face. “Whew.”

Blare shivered. “Smooth,” she rasped.

Lian coughed through a laugh.

Glen felt the effect almost immediately. He listened as Blare and Lian bantered, feeling pleasantly buzzed.

After about ten minutes, everything began to spin. That stuff’s strong, he thought. Probably doesn’t help that I have no tolerance.

His face started to feel flushed. Glen brushed the back of his hand against his forehead, surprised by the slick sweat he found there. He excused himself, stood, and walked as straight as he could to the bathroom, where he splashed cold water into his face.

“C’mon,” he muttered to himself. “It was one drink.”

Glen returned to the living room, where Blare was laughing at a story Lian was telling. He sat back down on the couch and peered at the label on the liquor bottle. It seemed normal in every way, and the others weren’t reacting to it so severely. Why did he feel so awful?

A drop of sweat rolled down his back. He stared at the ice in his empty water glass, wishing he could press it to the back of his neck.

Suddenly, Glen leaped to his feet. The world tilted miserably.

“Glen?” Blare asked.

“Something wrong?” Lian asked.

“Motherfucker,” he slurred. “What…did you do?” His knees gave out from under him.

“Glen!” Blare gasped, leaping off the couch. She rushed forward to catch Glen as he pitched forward. Together they collapsed to the ground. “Glen, talk to me,” she demanded.

Glen looked up at her, his eyes not quite landing on hers. “You didn’t drink the water, did you?” he murmured. He started to close his eyes.

“Glen – no, no, no, don’t go to sleep.”  Blare tapped his cheek. She looked up at Lian. “You drugged him?” she demanded.

“Oh, I only gave him a little dose. He’s being dramatic,” Lian sighed. He got out of his chair and knelt beside them. “Hey. Stay with us.” Glen didn’t react.

Lian reached forward and grabbed Glen by the chin. At once, Glen’s eyes flew open. Blare didn’t like how wide his pupils were.

Lian huffed with amusement. “You know what this is?” he asked. Glen didn’t respond. “Go on. Tell me. What did I give you?”

Glen’s voice got caught in his throat. He sounded like he was in pain. Then, through gritted teeth, he said, “It’s biaberry.”

“Good,” Lian said. He looked up at Blare, who had gone pale. “Based on Minervas’s reaction, I’d say she knows what it does. But remind us anyway.”

Blare cut in. “Glen, you don’t have to –“

But Glen couldn’t stop himself. “It slows the frontal lobe so you’re really compliant.”

“In other words,” Lian said, dropping Glen’s chin and getting to his feet, “you’ll do whatever I say. Tell me that’s right.”

Glen clenched his teeth and groaned. “That’s right,” he said.

“No – you’re wrong,” Blare said, turning on Lian. “I won’t let you –“

“Ptahfi, get up,” Lian said.

Glen went rigid in Blare’s arms. Then, he pulled away from Blare and pushed himself to his feet. Blare scrambled up after him.

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Blare said. “Can you hear me, Glen?”

“Yeah,” Glen said. His voice shook. “I can hear you.”

“He can hear you,” Lian said, “but that doesn’t mean your little suggestions mean anything to him right now. One direct order, and he’ll forget all about them. Watch. Ptahfi, stop breathing.”

Glen abruptly held his breath halfway through an inhale.

Blare panicked. “What? No!” She turned to Lian. “Stop it!”

“You can tell him to keep breathing, if you want,” Lian said. “You should probably do it soon, though.”

Blare swung around. “Glen, breathe!” she begged.

Glen finished his inhale, his knees shaking.

Blare turned around. “Okay, you’ve made your point,” she said. “What do you want?”

“I want out,” Lian said simply. “I want off this forsaken planet, and I want out of Gal-U.”

“And you think you’ll get it by holding two Gal-U interns hostage?” Blare said incredulously. “That’s not going to work.”

“It will.” Lian leaned forward. “Because Gal-U will want to cover up what their intern did to me.”

“What are you talking about?” Blare asked.

Lian stood up straight, put his hands behind his back, and said, “Ptahfi, attack me.”

Glen’s muscles tensed. He lunged forward, barreling into Lian and sending them both to the ground.

“Glen!” Blare shrieked. “Glen, get off of him!”

Glen fell backwards at once.

Lian, lying on his back, laughed. “That was good!” he said. He propped himself up on his elbows. “He wanted to, that time, did you see? He keeps resisting me, but you –“

“Stop it! This is inhumane!” Blare seethed. She looked down at Glen. He was shaking, his eyes misty. She knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Lian rested his arms on his drawn-up knees. “Either you get me off this planet,” he said, “or I make your friend here beat me until I pass out.” He smiled.

“I won’t let that happen,” Blare said to Glen.

“So you’ll get me out of here?” Lian asked.

“Not a chance.”

Lian grimaced. “I was actually hoping we wouldn’t have to do this,” he sighed. “Ptahfi, punch me in the eye.”

Glen scrambled forward, but Blare grabbed his arm. “Don’t!” she said. “Please!”

“Attack me!” Lian roared. “Punch my face!”

Glen lunged. Blare met him midair, brought him to the ground, and pinned him there. “Come on, Glen, please,” Blare begged. “Snap out of it!”

“I’m trying,” Glen groaned, shutting his eyes tight.

“Get her off of you and fight me!” Lian commanded.

Glen groaned, but then he struggled against Blare’s grip. “I’m not going to let you hurt him,” Blare said. “Stop fighting me.” Glen fell still at once.

Lian chuckled. “He’s used to taking orders from you, isn’t he?” he asked. Blare glowered in his direction. “I can see that he’ll always listen to you.” He cleared his throat. “Ptahfi, don’t do anything she says.”

Glen’s eyes filled with panic.

“What?” Blare gasped. “Glen, don’t listen to him,” she said. Glen didn’t say anything. “Glen. Glen, talk to me,” she pleaded.

Lian laughed. “I should have done that from the start. All right, Ptahfi, get over here and attack me.”

Glen struggled against Blare again. “No – damn it, no!” she snapped. “I won’t let you do this!”

Lian came close and gave Blare a shove. She stumbled sideways, and Glen immediately lurched forward to slam his fist into the side of Lian’s head. Lian gasped and fell onto the ground.

Blare tackled Glen again. He rolled, sending Blare onto her back. He didn’t attack her, but instead got to his feet, stalked over to Lian, and aimed a kick at his ribs. Lian folded with a wheeze.

“No!” Blare shouted. She stood and grabbed Glen’s arms, pulling him backwards. “Damn it, Glen, fight it!” As Lian pushed himself to his knees, coughing, Glen tried to pull himself away. Blare could hear the blood roaring in her ears. “I know you can’t do anything I tell you,” she said, “but you can still hear me – right?” Glen pulled against her. Blare thought over her next words carefully. “I know you can do this,” she said finally. “I know you can beat this.”

Glen struggled, his eyes never leaving Lian. Lian looked back up at him with an amused smile.

“Knock me out,” Lian mouthed. Glen struggled.

“You don’t have to listen to him,” Blare said, her grip firm.

Lian slung an arm across his torso. “Come on, Ptahfi,” he said, getting to his feet. “Enough’s enough. Fight your friend, and then come and knock me out.”

Glen yanked his right arm free and swung around to punch Blare. Blare let go of him and leaped backwards. “I don’t want to fight you,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt you, and you don’t want to hurt me, either.”

Glen didn’t reply. His knees were shaking.

“I know how hard you’re trying,” Blare said. “I know you can do this.” Glen’s fingers twitched. He took a step forward. Blare flinched, but she didn’t move back. “I know you can do this,” she said again.

Glen’s eyes met hers, and Blare saw something harden in his gaze. In a swift movement, Glen reached up, grabbed his stun wand, and pressed his thumb against the switch. Electricity crackled.

Blare’s heart hammered. “Come on, Glen,” she breathed. “You’re strong enough for this.”

Glen spoke in a strained voice. “I know.” Then he pressed the live stun wand against his own chest.

Glen went rigid as electricity coursed through his body. He shuddered, then fell backwards onto the floor. After about ten seconds, the wand stopped jolting, and Glen lay twitching on the ground.

Blare surged forward and pulled the wand from his hand. “Glen, can you hear me?” she demanded. She pressed her hands to his face. “Glen! Look at me.” Glen didn’t respond. His eyes stared up at the ceiling.

“He’s a fighter,” Lian grunted behind Blare. “I didn’t think he’d be that stubborn.”

Blare tried to ignore him. She tapped Glen’s face. His eyes drifted in her direction, but wouldn’t focus.

Blare heard footsteps. She turned. “Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

Lian was halfway to the door. “I’m not sticking around for what comes next.” Blare opened her mouth, but Lian beat her to it. “I know I’ve lost. Look at him – he’s no threat to me anymore. No one’s going to believe my story over yours now. You’re going to call up your friends, and I’m going to be hunted as a criminal. I’m not getting off the planet today.” He turned and faced the door. “But I will.” He opened the door and stepped outside. He looked back and winked at Blare. “Looks like he’s waking up,” he said. Then he shut the door.

Blare turned back around, pressing a hand to Glen’s cheek as he stirred. He squeezed out a groan and opened his eyes. His gaze landed on Blare.

“Aries above – Glen, are you alright?” Blare asked. “Please, say something.”

“I’m…okay,” Glen wheezed. “Lian –“

“He’s gone,” Blare said.

Glen started to sit up, but grimaced and fell back.

“Relax,” Blare said gently. “Just hang on. I’m going to get you help.”