A race of aliens known as Maltrinites have been fighting a war for over 400 years, a bitter conflict between the Pax Rebels who seek freedom from oppression, and the Dicio Council who seek to regain total control of the planet Maltrina. The war devastates the lives of all involved in some form or another. In the Earth year 2041, a group of elite Pax Rebel fighters crash on Earth during a mission to acquire new weapons and gear. They now find themselves struggling to find a way home, all while a Dician ship hunts them across the planet Click here for the full list!Â
The story of a young Pax Rebel caught in the worst of circumstances. 30 years before joining the Titan Guard, Alek was taken prisoner by the Councilâs forces. A year passed before he was found, the only one left alive. Click here for the full list!Â
Revolution: The Early Years of the War
A young Rebel joins the efforts to help his people and his world against the ruling Dicio Council. Itâs a time when those close to him show their true colors, and he finds that people arenât always who they seem to be.
Commissioned from the AMAZING AND BEYOND SUPER TALENTED @elgrajaz ! thank you so so much for drawing my boy!!! đ„čđ It's beautiful, I can't stop looking at him!!! AAAAAA!
Two years since the last update for this part but a lot has happened đ
Anways Lulan has an even worse time, First, Previous
CW: prisoner of war, whumper's POV, restrained, branding, forced surgery, amputation, interrogation
Titan Guard taglist: @nightly-whump, @angst-art-writing, @whipper-whumper, @yet-another-heathen, @why-not-whump-it, @kixngiggles, @annablogsposts, @whumpwillow (let me know if you'd like to be added!)
Lulan tested the strength of the cuffs around his wrists. He knew there was probably no point in it, them and the ones around his ankles being made from reinforced alsmic steel, but it at least got his mind off the mounting dread in his mind. Being strapped to a table didnât really help him try and think of better things.
Neither did TonĂĄr pressing hot, glowing metal into the skin of his bicep.
âAnytime you want to stop, Iâm all ears.â TonĂĄr pulled the poker away and gave Lulan a half second to stop screaming. âI think we can agree that youâve been keeping this up for too long.â
Too long for them, maybe. If his counting was accurate, heâd been stuck on this ship for three weeks now. Three weeks of almost round the clock interrogation and torture. They were persistent, more than he might have expected given how clear he had been that he wouldnât give them anything. He wasnât going to tell them where to find the rest of the team, he wasnât going to give them any other military secrets. He wouldnât even give them his name if they didnât know it already.
âGnh, y-you kidding?â Lulan let out a light chuckle as he tried to catch his breath. His throat felt raw as he spoke. âItâs barely been a f-fucking sprint. F-figured youâd be getting tired by now.â
âYouâre a nutcase, Quioph,â TonĂĄr sneered at him as he reheated the poker in a small flame. âOne would think the training you went through with the Rebels implanted some kind of dumbass switch.â
âNah, it just comes by me naturally.â
âClearly, I havenât been making this hot enough then.â
The bright orange end of the poker came back into Lulanâs view. It smoked and sizzled with contact in the air, hovering just a few inches away from his face. The heat so close to him seemed to make the fresh burns flare more. He lay still against the table, holding a strained but still smug smile in his expression.
âHow about it then?â TonĂĄr turned the poker slowly in his hand. âThink an extra 20 degrees will made a difference?â
âMhn, maybe. Youâre taking a while to test that out, though.â
Lulan saw the glint he always hoped to bring out in TonĂĄrâs eyes when they talked, annoyance. It always gave him satisfaction knowing he could get under TonĂĄrâs skin so easily. The look held as TonĂĄr spotted an old wound still healing on Lulanâs collarbone and pressed the pokerâs glowing end against it. Lulanâs throat let loose another scream as the heat traveled through his chest. His back arched against the table and he strained against the cuffs. It hurt no more or less than the other burns TonĂĄr had branded onto him in the past two hours they had been in here, really. Still, Lulanâs eyes watered, sweat ran down his face, and his nerves overwhelmed him with the sensation.
This wasnât getting used to it, he just knew what to expect from himself at this point.
TonĂĄr pulled the poker away again, leaving Lulan to catch his breath with the scent of burning flesh in the air. Lulanâs chest expanded as he breathed in deeply. He wanted to collect himself better, but TonĂĄr wasnât interested in giving him any time.
âWell, this burn doesnât look that much different from the others,â he goaded, âI guess I could try upping the temperature again, unless youâre ready to talk now?â
âAh, Iâuhââ Lulan gasped out, stumbling over his words. The slight waver in his voice caught TonĂĄrâs attention. He lowered the poker and leaned closer to Lulanâs face.
âWell?â
âIâllâI justââ Lulanâs voice was far quieter than before, âIâll⊠Iâll tell you one thingâŠâ
The intrigue on TonĂĄrâs face couldnât be hidden. He watched Lulan intently, awaiting whatever information he had finally decided to provide.
ââŠYou look even stupider up close.â
Lulan couldnât contain himself any longer. His lips cracked into a smile and he erupted into laughter. His wounds still pinched with burning pain as his body shook, but it didnât stop the nearly giddy joy in him.
âEm, your fucking face! Oh I wish I couldâve gotten a picture of that! You thinking you actually had me! Too fucking funny!â
Lulan kept laughing as TonĂĄr leaned back, his lips pursed in bubbling anger. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath in.
âOh, I canât wait until I finally get to kill youâŠâ he seethed through his teeth, âBelieve me, Iâve had a few ideas on how to make the most of it.â
âThe fact that you havenât even brought down his moral by this point is troubling, Colonel.â
A new voice cut into the room outside of Lulanâs periphery, which stopped his laughter and sent chills down his spine. He craned his neck to the side to get a look at who was speaking, although he had a hunch as to who it might be. To his own confirmation, Admiral Jentari stepped out of the shadows of the room and towards him.
âIâve seen you achieve greater progress in shorter times than this.â She spoke to TonĂĄr almost like a teacher scolding a student. The look on his face as she spoke said the same thing. Lulan found it amusing, even if the Admiralâs presence made his heart run. Her presence was unnerving, and he had no idea how long she had been in this room with them.
âI suppose everyone comes across a challenge⊠some point or another.â TonĂĄr only muttered the last part, showing a side of his embarrassment of failing to successfully interrogate his prisoner. In front of his boss, no less.
âChallenge or not, this arrogant pride is an obstacle to us discovering the location of his team,â Jentari spoke with an air of impatience. âBut that will be dealt with today. Then I expect results as soon as possible, Colonel.â
âIâm sure thatâll work out just great for you.â Crush his spirit, Lulan had heard that one before. Always from these high and mighty types who think everyone below their command is a mindless drone, and their enemies arenât worth the dirt on their boots. Yes, heâs heard those words before. But no one who had uttered them before ever even came close to getting him to crack.
Why should the Admiral be any different?
As if waiting for the cue, the interrogation room door opened and in walked another person, pushing in front of them a hovercart. From where he was laying, Lulan couldnât quite see what all was laid out across the top, not until it came up right next to him. A neat arrangement of sharp looking medical instruments, contorted metal frames, a dermal sealer, and a small pile of bandages next to a deep, silver colored tray. The way they caught the light above set an uneasy feeling in Lulanâs stomach.
âAlright, Rebel,â Jentari said the last word as if she had a bad taste in her mouth, âIâd like to see how well that façade of yours holds up by the time this is done.â
She rested a hand on top of his foot and Lulan suddenly realized what she meant. The instruments, the frames, the neat stack of bandages waiting for him.
âNo.â
âProceed, doctor.â Jentari lifted her hand away, but remained close to Lulanâs side watching as the surgeon pulled up a chair by the end of the interrogation table. Lulan looked down and could see his head hovering between his feet, already pulling on gloves. He struggled in his restraints, flinching hard as he felt cold disinfectant spread over the bottom of his foot.
âThis⊠this wonât get me to tell you anything, you know.â He did his best to keep his voice from shaking despite his growing rambling. âIâve already made that clear to your lapdog back there.â
TonĂĄr glowered at him from the corner of the room, but Jentariâs expression remained unchanged. The Admiral merely watched him in a quiet, unsettling way. A mind game, Lulan figured, to see if heâd crack before they actually went to cut into him. He wouldnât budge, but his breath quickened as the surgeon pulled the hovercart of instruments closer to him.
âYouâre just wasting your fucking time!â Lulanâs voice rose to a shout. âThis wonât change one goddamn thing, okay?! It doesnât matter what you do to me, youâre not gonna make me talk!â
A gasp left his lips before he could catch it as he felt the cold metal of one of the frames enter the open space of his booster. Then another over the other foot. He fidgeted, trying to pull himself out in vain as they started to expand.
âWill you fucking listen to me?! It wonât work anyway, so just donât fucking do it!â
âHold.â Jentari spoke just as the expanders were about to bend the frames of his boosters. Lulan held his breath. He tracked Jentariâs every move as she came closer to his head. She looked down at him with cold indifference, like a scientist inspecting her dying lab rat.
âHere I was thinking you were an intelligent creature, but you still grovel and bargain like a common sonda. I believe this course of action is working exactly the way I want it to. There is one small exception, however.â
She held her hand out to the surgeon, who placed something small in her palm. She brought it into Lulanâs view, a small headband with little blinking nodes pointing inward. Lulan recognized it and started shaking his head.
âI canât have you thrashing around while Lieutenant Yelvik operates. We wouldnât want to cause any unintended damage.â
âNo!â Lulan tried to pull away as she slipped the headband over his forehead. There was a sudden pulse, and his body relaxed all at once. He was still awake, eyes open and breathing normally. Even the sensation of touch seemed unchanged. But the rest of his body was limp as a noodle. He couldnât even lift his head to see what the surgeon was doing to him.
âWhâŠWhaâŠâ His words slurred under the forced immobilization. His heart raced as he looked Jentari in the eye, watching her lean down until she was next to his ear.
âI think this should be enough to bring you down from that pedestal youâve built for yourself. Donât you think? Doctor, proceed.â
She pulled away and Lulan felt the expanders start up again. He let out a barely stifled groan of pain as they pushed apart the inner structures of each of his boosters. The lower half of him was hot with pain that he wasnât sure when they finally stopped. The expanders kept the strained cartilage in place and open wide enough for the surgeon to begin his work.
âNâŠNuhâŠ!â Lulan blamed the barrage of pain to his nerves for the tears growing in his eyes. He could feel every adjustment, every poke and prod the surgeon made on his boosters as he took one sharp tool after another to them. His breath hitched with strangled screams, a strange sensation as he couldnât move his mouth to catch a proper breath yet couldnât stop himself from letting out the cry. He felt the running of blood through the heat with each drag of the scalpel. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying heâd pass out from the pain and escape this sensation.
Whether he had or not, he wasnât sure. All he did register was a sudden and strange sensation of coolness within his boosters, followed in time by the quick retraction of the spreader frames on both his feet. Lulan gasped, the pain not disappearing but shifting to a dull, buzzing sensation through his legs and torso. He started to notice the wetness on his face from his tears and the harsh, raw feeling in his throat from screaming.
But he was alive, and he hadnât cracked.
âYouâre true to your word, Captain,â Jentari came back next to him and nudged his head so he was forced to face her. Her expression was unchanged, yet had an air of smugness Lulan didnât notice before.
âNo response this time? No last-ditch effort to spite us?â She taunted him. With one hand, she pulled away the headband on Lulanâs forehead. As if waking up in fright, his body flinched back to life, and he found himself shaking. Whether it was from the pain or lingering fear, he couldnât quite tell.
âPerhaps the reality of your situation hasnât quite hit you yet.â Jentari held the top of his head and turned him to the other side, where the surgeon was approaching him. Lulan already knew what happened. They had clipped him. They tore into him and took away the ability to use his wheels. It was true that the reality hadnât quite hit him yet, but he knew it would eventually. She was just looking to rub salt in the wound. Lulan knew he would have to expect it in time.
What he didnât expect, however, was the surgeon carrying a tray holding the severed, bloodstained remains of his wheels just for him to see.
âOhâŠâ A soft cry left his lips and his head fell back against the table. All at once, pain and grief seemed to crash all around him. How could he have not realized what theyâd done to him? His eyes couldnât leave the sight of the now former segments of his body. He tasted bile and salt in his mouth, as though the image was about to make him sick.
âI feel compelled to make a distinction about the decision to do this operation,â Jentari spoke plainly and without a hint of remorse, âThis is not meant as a means for interrogation for the location of your base. If it were, it would be rather sloppy and ineffective. No, this is a reminder, Captain. A word of warning that your defiance and unruliness will not get far with me. It is my sincere hope that you take this to heart in the future, so that I do not have to issue further reminders.â
âYou⊠you fucking bitch!â Lulanâs voice broke as he screamed out the words. He turned back to her, eyes filled with tears and blazed with rage. He struggled against the restraints, exhausted and hurt but wanting to tear Jentariâs throat out. He didnât want any reminders, no reminders, no torture. He wonât have any of it anymore.
Jentariâs hand sailed through the air, the back of it slapping Lulan hard against the table. He instinctively fell silent from the shock, but still drew in shaky breath alongside hot tears. His lungs froze from Jentariâs sudden movement towards him, leaning forward as she grabbed the top of his hair to make him look up. Her eyes were cold, lifeless and without mercy, but he couldnât look away. He couldnât close his eyes as death bore into them.
âNo more interrogations for the rest of the day,â she whispered to him. âYouâll have the night to recover, but know this. It will be the last night of peace you will ever know for the rest of your treacherous, insignificant life. I will make sure of that.â
She released him and turned to leave without another word. Lulan remained froze on the table as if she had never left. The agony in his body refused to die down, even as he forced air back into his lungs. He thought for sure she was ready to kill him just then. The desire to do so was set deep in those earth-dark eyes. But she couldnât, not quite yet.
Not until Lulan had already shattered into a million little pieces.
He had no thought or strength to pull away as TonĂĄr released his restraints and pulled him to sit up. He caught another glimpse of the surgeonâs table of instruments and the tray holding the now dead limbs of his wheels. His throat lurched, threatening to bring up the remains of the poor excuses of a meal they had given him earlier. No time was spared for that as TonĂĄr whipped his legs around to the tableâs side and pulled him down to the floor. His feet, still bleeding and weak from the pain, hit the floor and shot bolts of agony through his body. Lulan cried out and crumbled to the ground, barely holding himself up on his hands and knees.
âGet up,â TonĂĄr growled at him from above. Lulan gasped, still trying to get his bearings with his legs feeling like jelly. They wouldnât work, not in any way that would bring him standing so he could walk out of here with dignity. TonĂĄr nudged him in the thigh, and he groaned softly.
âGet. Up.â TonĂĄrâs patience was running short fast. âUnless you wanna crawl on the goddamn floor.â
âI⊠I canâtâŠâ The words left Lulanâs mouth before he could smother them in his throat. The weakness burned in him, mocked him with the same cruelty of his tormentors. Â
âThen donât,â TonĂĄr replied curtly, âIâll just hitch some rope around your ankles and drag you out.â
The thought of that sent jolts of tension through him. He couldnât stand, but he refused to let TonĂĄr or any of them touch him again. Cursing himself with each movement, he began dragging himself forward on the floor. First a hand, then a knee, another hand, another knee, moving no more than a couple of inches with each motion. His cheeks burned from the humiliation, knowing TonĂĄr looked down at him with a smug, sadistic grin.
But still he moved forward. Out of the door and down the detention hall agonizingly slow until they came up to Lulanâs cell door. It opened with a hiss, moments before Lulan felt TonĂĄrâs foot kick him in the back and into the cell. He fell with a thud, ready to turn and curse TonĂĄr out just as the cell door closed shut again. Now alone, his remaining energy left him. He laid limp on the floor, eyes closed and refreshing with tears as he tried to calm down.
In one breath, and out. In, and out. Over and over again until the exhaustion finally took him.
CW: prisoner, blood, electrocution, interrogation, death threats, head injury
Titan Guard tag list: @nightly-whump, @whipper-whumper, @whumped-cream, @ghostcomit, @yet-another-heathen, @why-not-whump-it (let me know if youâd like to be added!)Â
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The taste of blood reached towards the back of his throat as he coughed. The act sent a sharp pain through his trachea, but he clenched his teeth firmly and forced a smile all the same. He could tell his captor didnât like it when a fist grabbed a handful of his green hair and wrenched his head back to look at him.
âDonât tell me youâre actually enjoying this, Captain,â TonĂĄr growled in his ear.
âNoâŠâ Lulan strained through raspy vocal chords, âIt actually fucking hurts⊠but itâs funny that your mind goes thereâŠâ
He coughed and TonĂĄr released him and slapped the back of his hand against his cheek. Lulanâs head whipped to the side, throwing his weight against the restraints on his wrists. He didnât budge, the forcefield around him keeping the cuffs in place above his head. They took his armor a while ago, leaving him in his tracksuit, torn and bloodied from TonĂĄrâs inventive interrogation tactics. Lulan wasnât sure how long he had been here at this point. The Admiralâs henchmen didnât exactly keep him up to date with the time. They werenât even nice enough to give him a cell with a window. Figures.
âWhatâs funny is you thinking this is all some kind of game,â TonĂĄr circled him from behind, âAnd youâre either an idiot or your sense of humor is just fucked up.â
âItâs both,â Lulan laughed bringing up more coughing from deep in his chest. âIâm surprised you donât think itâs a game, honestly. Hasnât it always been a game to you⊠the rest of us being your little toys to play with and throw away when you get bored?â
âIâm not the one broken and bleeding in a cell.â
Lulan shrugged as much as he was able, his shoulders screaming in their awkward position. âS-Stakes are just higher for me, I guess.â
Thereâs nothing so perfect as a defiant whumpee who is both playing the game and refusing to. The spite, the mouthiness, the gallows humorâfuuuuuck I LOVE IT
TonĂĄr turned and pressed the prodâs end hard into the soft spot over Lulanâs jugular. Lulanâs breath hitched in his throat weakly, and he clenched his fists tightly to keep from shaking.
fuck yes fuck yes fuck yes fuck THE FLINCH RESPONSE
âGuess what? My life is already over!â
this? THIS?? ahsihfakjfkalsjh
itâs the ultimate weapon! deciding youâre already finished means you have nothing to lose! try as they might, once Lulan makes that decision, itâs over for them. thereâs nothing they can do, threaten, or take away that will get its nails under that belief
I fucking love him. Have I mentioned that I love him?
6, 24, and 30 for the ask game? -chaotic-tired-cat
(Forgot the ask game this was connected to so I can't link back to it)
6. what's the best and worst part of being online/a creator?
Best thing is making connections with people of similar interests and who really take joy in what I'm creating! Worst part is the constant fear of someone stealing my ideas/stuff and losing my story forever.
24. what's one thing you're proud of yourself for?
(This question is admittedly the reason why this has been sitting in my inbox for so long.......)
I'm proud of growing more comfortable in the weird, funny things I enjoy, being able to let go of fear of judgment for the things that bring me joy. It's made life more enjoyable overall and by embracing that, I've been able to find friends I connect with on a far deeper level.
30. what's one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?
