#atlasfought

[detectivest]

This blog has really become a vld au angus stan blog, huh....

[bledthrice-moved]

@atlasfought

“Well Mister Beefcake—it seems you are in need of a healer & I just so happen to be proficient. What are the odds?” The half alien tilts his head. “You have a name, don’t you? You may as well say it. I don’t bite—well, I do bite—but only if you want me to!” 

[caniisrufus]

━ @atlasfought

     it’s a slow and painful process keith’s been witnessing, watching shiro find feeling in his fingers again that don’t ache so much. crystal clear memory tells him he’s seen it before, out on the desert after a hard ride on hover-bikes, but this feels different. back then keith never had to hand him things, or ask him in level-toned concern if he could walk. there’s been an ill-feeling in the back of his mind ever since it started.

     but shiro can walk, and throw his weight around in punches now, from what he’s been hearing from the paladins over com reports. keith’s back on the castle for blade-paladin recon, and he figured it’d be easier eating hunk’s switched up food goo and battling lance with his wits. it’s not. not when keith hasn’t witnessed things for himself while he’s been off being marmora, hoping in and out of black’s pilot seat for him. it’s for him, even if it’s wrong in his head.

     keith takes a day, and a little more, into later hours of the night to ask shiro for a sparring session. he can feel the tension that knots up in his shoulders, and this THING that sits heavily on top of that, like an extra set of weights. he switches back into something more familiar ━ instead of the blade uniform he’s been sporting more often than not recently. he feels bigger, broader, since he started out under kolivan’s direction, but it’s been harder to work his bones loose with him and the galra, than here on the mats where he’s used to it. keith’s demeanour is closed to him, gaze set and steady and hard, like a dare. real ‘ do it or else ‘.

      ❛ no weapons. ❜ no rules, but he figured that’s a given. shiro fights like he’s been trained━━ and then on top of that, like he didn’t have a choice.

     or he used to.

     he raises his fists, battle stance set without giving him an opening just yet. he wants to see him take if for himself. ❛ don’t let up ❜

[icetread-moved]

‘oh, um......’ shiro’s visibly flustered, gesturing to the doorframe above their heads. there’s mistletoe hanging above their heads, and his cheeks are red. ‘um......y-you don’t have to kiss me for some silly tradition, if you don’t want to.’ but he’d like to, very much.

“Oh Shirogane, you misunderstand—” He pulls him down by the collar & kisses him roughly. He even bites Shiro’s lower lip at the end. He’s feeling spicy and the fact that Shiro brought up the mistletoe only serves to encourage him. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a very, very long time. This was a calculated maneuver on my part.” 

[bledthrice-moved]

@atlasfought​

Scars cover his body from ankle to throat—there are hundreds upon hundreds. There are newer wounds too—chemical burns from the Galra. Even with the new burns, his most prominent ones are those of his self inflicted top surgery. He can feel Shiro’s eyes on him, so he flourishes, completely comfortable despite the fact that, aside from a pair of boxers, he’s completely naked. 

“Like what you see, big guy?” He winks as he pulls on a  black turtle neck sweater and an equally pair of black pants. “Sorry for putting on a show if you didn’t—I don’t exactly have anywhere private to change.” 

[ashenheart-moved]

@atlasfought​

Val is starting to get used to finding people out in the cold. The man is bent over, trying to get their glaceon to come closer. Their glaceon hisses at him before bounding back over to Val. “She’s not lost—and you’re on private property. You’re lucky I didn’t fucking shoot you!” They sigh, exasperated, and shake their head. “I don’t feel like you have ill intentions—you may as well come inside before one of my guards do shoot you.” 

[icetread-moved]

@atlasfought​

Alejandro enters the facility hesitantly, cane in hand as he limps inside. The cold weather is hell on his injured leg and makes traversing the wilds worse. His sylveon walks inside like she owns the place and mews loudly to get the shelter owner’s attention. He clears his throat, a bit awkwardly, and shuts the door behind him. “I’m...ah...here about the Eevee. I heard about him from a friend and wanted to see if he’d maybe get along with me.” He leans against a wall, trying his best to take pressure off his bad leg. “I hope I haven’t come at a bad time.”

[vilethorned]

@atlasfought​

“I’m afraid there’s very little I can personally do—if these, ah, Galrans decide to invade. I’m not as powerful as I once was.” He pauses, pours a glass of wine for his guest, and offers it to him. “Ah, I’m sorry, I forgot to ask if you drink—” Rose lets out a soft sigh. “I can call the Prime Minister. He still might listen to me, but, well. I’m on house arrest. My company has been collapsing in my absence. Things do not look good.” 

Rose glances outside and into his manor’s expansive garden. His pokemon are playing, blissfully unaware that they may be fighting for not only their lives, but their freedom too soon. “I’m honestly at a loss as to what to do beyond that, Mister Shirogane. I used to have friends in high places, but that time has come to pass.”