i think what gets to me about Milo's betrayal was that he did that to you because he LOVED you like romantic or platonic it didn't matter but he loved you so much that he was willing to become the object of your and everyone's hatred just so that you could be saved, because he hates himself and thinks he deserves it but also because it's one of the few things he knows better to do than anyone else (hurting others, not that I'm saying that's all he's good for btw it's just my reading of his thoughts)
This is like the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice again but instead of looking back and the themes of grief it's desperation and what would you do to save someone from this fate and to Milo, his answer had always been "Everything" and I GRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH I NEED HIM AND MC AND MALCOLM TO MAKE OUT SLOPPY I LOVE DOOMED AND SOMEHWYA TOXIC ROMANCES GRAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH
Orpheus and Eurydice is just one of my favorite tragedies. If you ever get the chance to go and see the play Hadestown, do it. You won't regret a second of it.
Yeah, I think the thing with Milo is he is not someone that can handle stress very well. He is too used to doing everything on his own and lets face it, this was too big for anyone. Doing what he did, he hoped the entirety of the Night Market would be okay, and, in the end, he secretly hoped that the heart of the market would get to live again some day.
A’s gentle smile remained as B described in detail what they planned to do to them.
“I’ll... break and set your fingers over and over,” B threatened.
A carried on smiling and slid their bound together hands over towards B. Loving, welcoming.
B’s brow furrowed, they wanted to see the fear in A’s eyes, but there wasn’t a trace of anything like it.
Not wanting to appear shaken, B fumbled for a new threat, anything, even if they would never do it.
“I’ll hang you until you nearly pass out.”
A turned their head and moved their neck towards B.
“I’ll rip out your teeth, grind them up and make you eat them.”
A’s smile became an open one, showing off their pretty little white teeth.
“I’ll do bloody surgery on your guts with you awake!” B exclaimed in desperation.
A nodded, not enthusiastically, but how a teacher might acknowledge a student’s comment. Loving, welcoming.
B looked deep into A’s eyes. B couldn’t pretend anymore, their expression becoming one of pity and sorrow for A. A didn’t want to die or be hurt... but they weren’t scared of it either. A barely seemed real, A barely seemed human. A was broken. Broken by B? Broken by what they had done all those years ago?
“I killed your parents, A. I slit their throats and watched them bleed out slowly after weeks of torturing them for information they screamed over and over they would never give me, but they both did in the end. Why aren’t you scared? Why aren’t you begging me to stop? Why aren’t you fucking making your escape and plans to torture me?” B said, shaking their head in disbelief as the smile endured on A’s lips.
A closed their eyes and rested their head on the table, not seeming to hear anything B had said.
B swallowed, pushing themselves up on the table and leaving the chair out, just as askew as this whole situation.
Just as B went to open the door, A finally answered B. “Nothing you can say or do will ever be as bad as what they did to me,” A whispered. “Because they were my mum, my dad. They were meant to love me. And that’s what really hurts.”
Still, A’s gentle smile remained. But B, their whole world felt as if it had just slipped away and they stood silent and still as their throat closed up.
Alright, 6 and 7 are ready to post, so I’m getting there, slowly. Thank you everyone for the support so far. I really do appreciate it and it really keeps me going.
Master-list Here
Approx WC: 1600
Avizon struggled to hide his wince, the pain in his arm from the bite and the apprehension at feeling the burning in his arm starting to fade away into a tingle as he left Ihuka in the dungeon. He was fuming with anger, so startled at the fact Ihuka had it in him to snap, to bite him with a venom that would easily kill under the right conditions, and all for a cloudwalker he'd just met too.
Surrender was not within Ihuka's psyche, yet. He'd be punished for this. Avizon was determined to knock that resilience out of him- if the bite didn’t kill him first. That damned venom acted as a partial paralytic, and painkiller, a way for cloudwalkers to grab their prey, bite down and fly high into the sky to drop their prey while it was powerless in their hands. It was a highly sought after chemical for various reasons, one of several elements of these cloudwalkers he intended to harvest.
When Avizon returned to the throne room where he'd left Dyan. It was a grand room, with luxurious floors that were hidden beneath dirt and chandeliers and art that was heavy with dust. He intended to get both his new purchases working soon, Dyan especially, but for now that would have to wait.
Avizon found that Dyan really hadn't moved. He hadn't even turned around or adjusted how he sat. He was frozen stiff with fear.
"F.Follow," Avizon ordered.
Dyan jumped and yelped at the sudden noise that came from behind him.
"Hurry up!" Avizon snapped as he started towards his laboratory. He needed to hurry. He didn't know how potent Ihuka's venom would be, what effects it would have on him considering he was a youngster.
He stumbled just as he got to the lab, through the old desolate tunnels and stairways made of large blocks of dark stone in need of attention that Avizon couldn’t afford to give. The whole castle was in need of repair, but that took magic, magic he didn’t have, yet. He was struggling to think clearly. He had to lean against the wall. The paralytic compound in the venom was taking effect already. He needed a remedy before he was defenceless against the two cloudwalkers or worse, dying. He rushed to the workbench with Dyan following in fear. He was struggling to lift his shaking hands, he stumbled before he could get to what he needed.
"M… master?" Dyan whispered. “C.can… Can I help?”
"G.get the… the…" Avizon groaned, his words were slow and slurring. He needed to get the remedy. He forced himself onwards, to the right drawer, and Dyan dared to offer an arm with his head held low. Avizon took it to steady himself until he could reach the glass vial on the bench. He’d already been making an experimental batch of antidote for cloudwalker venom, but he hadn’t really tested it. He’d planned to find an enemy and try it but now he didn’t get that option.
He gulped, and drank down the liquid quickly while his throat was still working. He groaned and fell to the floor, his back pressed against the bench. Everything was spinning and he didn’t know how to make it stop. He focused on his breathing, feeling sweat drip down his face.
Dyan looked at him with concern from where he knelt, looking small, weak, and perfectly precious, but he still needed to be punished- at least once his world wasn’t spinning anymore. Avizon groaned again.
“Can I help you more, master?” Dyan asked quietly.
“G.get… bandages. B.bring the… the box,” he panted. This was getting harder and harder. Dyan might have seemed broken, but if he was sure he had a chance…
Dyan rushed away, collecting a box from the bench that had said bandages in, but also ointments and salves. Avison struggled to get his shirt off and reveal the wounds underneath. They were small, almost human-sized teeth marks, but far sharper, and the canine teeth had naturally gone deeper. Blood dripped freely.
Avizon rummaged around the box and took out the right ointment for Dyan to use, not seeing how Dyan stared at the scars on his body. He could barely grip it now with his injured arm. It did seem that Ihuka’s venom was weaker, perhaps due to his age since he’d go after smaller prey. Dyan opened the glass container and swallowed hard. He started to apply it, though with great uncertainty, over Avizon’s wound, being too afraid to press down hard and make it stick to the skin straight away. Avizon groaned and struggled not to move away from his touch.
Dyan seemed to know what he was doing, at least a little. He applied the medicines and then waited for the all-clear to wrap it with bandages. Once Avizon nodded, he raced to get it done. Avizon could only sit and try to stay stony-faced. Dyan still seemed terrified of him.
“T.take… me… b.bed,” he murmured. Dyan took a deep breath before he offered an arm, and once Avizon took it, he was able to move and take more of his weight, almost all of it in fact. Dyan struggled, panting hard as he helped his master to his room. Avizon could feel the fear radiating off him.
Avizon dropped down onto his bed with a feeble groan. Everything was slowing down, and he felt it was getting harder and harder to move, to breathe. Dyan moved his legs onto the mattress and backed away, waiting for more instructions.
“G.go to your room...” Avizon barely managed before he finally drifted off into sleep, hopefully a sign that his antidote was in fact working...
_____
Dyan went straight to his bedroom and didn’t look back, didn’t hesitate to open the door, close it behind him and take off his clothes. He didn’t deserve nice clothes. He had been bad, He’d been given such wonderful things and he’d been disrespectful. It had been an instinct to protect Ihuka, but perhaps it was an instinct he should have controlled. Now they were both in trouble.
Dyan gulped. He didn’t know what to do. Was he allowed in bed? Did he deserve it? No, he didn’t, but did his master want him there? Did he want him to sleep? He didn’t know, and so he sat on the floor, staring at the door in apprehension. He’d endured this a few times with his old master, being told to wait and then finding out he’d fallen asleep. He could do this, he had to.
Ten hours passed, according to the little clock on the mantlepiece. Ten hours of barely moving, of waiting for his master. He’d cried so many times while waiting for his master to come and collect him after being bitten, and Dyan could only hope that the sorrow didn’t show too badly on his face. It had left his exhausted though, and he desperately wanted to sleep. He hoped Avizon wasn’t dead.
Avizon sighed when he opened the door and Dyan sat up a little straighter, with dark circles under his eyes and a trembling lip. He swallowed hard, seeing a cane in Avizon’s hand.
“You… didn’t sleep last night?” Avizon asked.
Dyan lowered his head. “I… I didn’t have permission? I was bad, master. so...”
“You are always allowed to sleep in your bed, Dyan, unless I tell you otherwise.”
Dyan’s shoulders slumped with exhaustion and the disappointment of making another mistake. “Yes, master. I'm sorry.”
Avizon looked down at the cane in his hands. “You are not in trouble for misunderstanding. However, there is, of course, one thing. You disregarded your place, you tried to argue with me and my decisions.”
“I understand, master. I should not have tried to defend Ihuka where I was not permitted to.”
“Correct. Hold out your hands, palm up.”
Dyan did so with a soft sniffle.
Avizon held the cane with a firm hand. “Since you were a great help, I have lessened your punishment... This time. But move your hands, and I will whip you more. Seven lashes, and your punishment will be complete.”
Dyan nodded silently and took a deep breath.
Avizon brought the cane down before Dyan was ready. He yelped and his hand moved out of the way. He looked up at Avizon without a word, saw him raise an eyebrow and returned his hand while gritting his teeth. He didn't move for the next two following strikes, but after that his shoulders hitched with the pain as he tried not to cry out, but the seventh and final strike was enough to make him screech. His hand shook with the pain, the sheer burning of the impacts on his soft skin. Still he didn’t pull away.
"You'll do well to remember that, although I am fair, you will not abuse the generosities I give you which I can, and will, so easily take away."
"Yes, master," he whispered. "Please forgive me. It won't happen again."
"I should think not."
Dyan looked up at him with teary eyes. "M.master?"
"Yes, little bird?"
"Are. Are you feeling better? From last night?"
Avizon couldn't help but let a smile tug at his lip. That was not a question he was expecting. "Yes… thank you. You did well last night and I do appreciate it. For that," Avizon waved his hand and conjured a plate of cooked meat he had left waiting in the kitchens. "Eat. And get some rest on the bed. You look tired. I repeat what I said before: you may always sleep on that bed, unless I directly tell you otherwise."
Dyan's mouth watered at the sight. "Yes, master. Thank you."
Avizon passed the plate down to him and watched as he ate, wincing as he moved his sore reddened hands and pushed the chunks of meat into his mouth. Chewing slowly and savouring it.
Avizon nodded and patted his head. "Good bird. I'll be back later once I deal with Ihuka."
Dyan opened his mouth to speak, but he bit his lip and thought better of it. Avizon noticed, he stared hard, but Dyan had made the right decision on his own.
“Yes, master.“
Thanks again @whumpywhumper. I’m so excited about the response this series is getting, thanks everyone!
Without his captors presence to ground him Nico floundered. Unconsciousness pulled at him only to be ripped away forcefully by every bird call, every cricket, every crack of a branch.
The blind fold that had pulled terrifying visions from his eyes mere hours after being placed continued to bombard him and Nico flinched in fear when visions of gleeful devils flashed in his vision, flames entrenching them. Was he dead, had he actually died in the vehicle and this was just his own hell?
He tugged weakly at his restraints, trying desperately to hide beneath the blanket that wrapped around his broken frame. A child hiding from a nightmare.
Fire burned at his shoulders and Nico only succeeded in making the slatted frame he lay on sway, igniting the low grade nausea that was his constant companion. Bloody saliva pooled in his throat and he stopped his pitiful struggles. Breathing as deeply as he could Nico tried to relax. The earth around him wavered, and fever consumed him.
The crunch of a vehicle over gravel trapped his attention and Nico felt his heart flutter in fear. Was this his new tormenter. Goawaygoawaygoaway-
The adrenaline pumped through him giving him a clarity he hadn’t had for what felt like hours.
“No, I don’t know why he would have texted me. Especially to come to the pack house. I mean it’s in the middle of nowhere.”
The voice was distorted by distance but it still made Nicos heart lurch, recognition flooding him. Bri-Brian? Delirium making him forgetful and he drew a bubbling breath to cry out. A rasp fell from his lips and he was grateful it wasn’t enough to set of the collar.
“Loo- look. Stop. I know you think he’s a shitty person!” Brian’s voice hissed, raising in anger. ”He’s fucking ghosted us for six months and he wasn’t a good friend before but I don’t think Nico would have messaged for me to come out here if he didn’t have a reason.”
Nico drew a ragged breath and felt his heart shatter. Was this why he’d been left there? In the recesses of his mind he’d hidden a small hope that just maybe his captor has been lying. That his friends just hadn’t been able to find him.
But this confirmed it. They just didn’t care. They didn’t even consider him a friend. Hadn’t ever looked for him.
Nico struggled to breathe as he felt what little was left of his will to fight collapse. He knew-knew- that he shouldn’t have tried to make friends. Nobody had ever wanted him.
The crunch of gravel drew closer but the sound barely registered over the thoughts that raced through him.
“I know you don’t trust him but I can’t not check this out, okay? If you’re so adamant about that why didn’t you come with me? Kristy, Kristy-no, I don’t think he’d do anything to hurt me, just cause he proved you right by ghosting doesn’t mean I think he wants to hurt us.”
Brian. It’s not like he deserved a friend like him anyway. He hated him and still defended him. Loyalty. Brian had always gone out of his way to invite him to hang out when his anxiety and depression had kept in locked inside for weeks. Had reached out when no one else had ever bothered.
He knew he was bad at keeping in touch. But he’d never had anyone to keep in touch with before. Foster home after foster home had driven home the idea that he wasn’t good enough. Then college had cast him as an outcast for being a loner due to his inability to relate and make friends.
He’d desperately wanted to connect. But he was broken. His tormenter was right. He belonged with him.
Even with that certainty he couldn’t make himself whimper to set of the collar. To break the rules and bring him back. Brian may hate him but maybe he wouldn’t hurt him. Or he’d end it quickly.
Brian’s friends had always been a little guarded with him, especially when he’d discovered that they were magic. Convinced that he’d sell them out. But he’d just wanted to belong.
The footsteps stopped before they reached the wooden steps he’d been carried up. Brian’s voice quieted but picked up an edge and he tried to focus on it.
“-the fuck kind of sick game is this Nico?” Brian’s voice whispered, his over sensitive hearing picking it up. “No, there’s some sort of weird BDSM pictures all over the ground here.”
Nico couldn’t hear the response but felt horror in every cell of his being. No. No, not like this-please, please they already hated him they didn’t need to know what happened too. Please...
Nico knew it was already too late, Brian would find him eventually, strapped down like a sick offering. He wished viscerally that he’d taken his captors offer, that no one would ever know what he’d done, what he’d allowed to happen.
This is exactly what he’d wanted him to hear, Nico realized. His captor knew. Knew that he’d be just enough to make his friends realize that his tormenter knew what they were, that he was watching. But his tormenter had also known he wouldn’t be missed, the group didn’t really care, that he was fundamentally worthless. He wished he’d have died with his family when he was six and their car had rolled on the interstate. What’d he done, why did he deserve this. Please God just make it stop. Make it stop make it stop make it stop please please please......
“I may need you guys to come up here, I’m getting a weird feeling....” Brian’s tenor trailed off as his quiet foot steps came closer. Nico felt a weak sob gathered behind his muzzle and he prayed that this was a fever dream.
The thump of footsteps on wood made Nico turn his head, injuries screaming.
“Hang on Kristy, stay on the phone, I’m just going to check the door and see if the wards have been triggered, maybe look in the windows. Yes, yes I’ll wait for you guys to— oh. Oh my god. HOLY SHIIIT!!”
There was a clatter and the scrambling of footsteps. “What the... what the fuck.” Brian’s voice held an edge of hysteria. Nico’s sensitive ears heard the squeak of a voice on the phone and he wanted to hide. “There’s a fucking body here Kristy.”
“Of course I’m not going to fucking touch it! You think I’m some sort of idiot?! Get everyone up here! Now!” Brians voice was so close. He was sure he could touch him if his hands were free. Nico didn’t feel anything with the realization. Glassy numbness encroaching on his reality.
This was what happened to his wishes. Reality twisted them cruelly and gave him the end result. He wanted his mom, to wake up as a six year old again and know who he could trust. Nothing was right. His friends had warped into cruel tormenters and his tormenter into someone who whispered loving things into his skin as he stripped him to his core and played.
It was too much. He was done. He ignored Brian’s voice and felt the dull throb of his heart. He wished it would stop.
He didn’t know how long he lay in limbo. Reality started and stopped intermittently and everything that did register came to him through a thick fog. “I knew you’d see it my way pet.” His tormenters voice whispered to him. “No one will ever care for you like I do. All you’ll have to do is behave for me, I’ll make sure no one else ever hurts you again. I might even make you feel good if you ask nicely.”
Nico felt as if his tormenter placed a heavy weight on his chest and he gasped brokenly. The collar at his throat jolted and Nico sobbed as he felt like his heart had been crushed in a vice.
He gasped for air, the vice on his heart clamping down on his lungs, the high pitched scream from Brian barely registering over the pain in his chest. I’ll be good, I’ll be good, just make the pain stop, please. He begged his tormenter and felt his cold fingers at his throat, probing at the collar. “I don’t think it’s up to you what you get anymore is it pet? In fact, I don’t think you quite remember your rules.” There was a faint click of the collar and Nico sobbed silently. No, please, please don’t turn it up-
Brian’s voice halted his tumbling mind, “Kristy, what the fuck do I do?! It’s not a god damn body- what do you mean what do I mean?! It’s fucking gasping for air, there’s a fucking shock collar on it that just went off!” Fingers started ripping at the collar on his neck and his perch tilted dangerously. “Of course I turned it off! How far away are you?!?!”
Nico gasped weakly behind the muzzle, Brian’s voice fading as his heart thrummed in his chest. Slender fingers replaced the thick ones at his throat and a warm hand pushed into his chest. Soothing energy raced through him, pushing away the pressure on his chest, calming the fire that had built in his broken bones. The absence of pain made him want to rest, to not simply slip into unconsciousness but to fall peacefully asleep.
The energy pulled him away from the peacefulness, and he fought weakly against it. “I need you to stay with me” the voice was feminine and familiar, he wanted to trust it but he couldn’t. “I know, just a little longer.”
Nico shivered at the reminder of the words his tormenter has used to comfort him. There were hands groping at his battered body and Nico wanted it to stop. I don’t, I can’t-
“Shhhhh, its all right. It’s ok, we’re going to take care of you now.” There was a feeling of tearing at his face and Nico winced as cold air touched his face.
Here's yet another robogore vent art piece I did of Stormshift just barely hanging on to life after being maimed and torn in half. As she clings on to the last flicker of life in her spark, her servo clutches the stick, the only thing she ever owned in her miserable life. The metal of her face is clawed to shreds, her wings are crushed along with her arm. I do not yet have a story behind this drawing. Maybe a stray insecticon got to her, or maybe one of the higher ups was having a bad day. Maybe she got caught for deserting the decepticons, or some rogue bot decided to tear her to bits out of cold blood. Either way, she was too small and weak to stop whoever it was. She was to naive and innocent to avoid such a gruesome fate. Is there any possibility that someone would be able to save her from dying like this? How much longer would such a frail little thing like her last with that much damage done to her frame? I was just in a really crummy mood and have been feeling so overwhelmed with everything. It felt so freeing to draw this and just focus on the colors and line art. I think I'm getting a little bit better at drawing robogore and energon.
Stormshift is my own original character. DO NOT TRACE, STEAL, OR COPY!!! ALL ART SHOWN IS MY OWN ORIGINAL WORK!
The walls were built from cemented sand, it’s constantly crumbling strangely grounding Lance ever since he’d stared housing himself in it. His ability to leave through the back or front door providing an everlasting comfort of sorts after his disastrous stay with the Galra.
Every mirror found in the house had been shattered within moments, Lance cringing at the mere look of himself, a constant inner debate whether he should ever let others see his horrifying appearance. He’d decided against that, using a cloak that scratched softly at his skin that he’d maimed to hood his face and shoulders, the scrappy prisoner outfit only later being replace with varying other rags.
For the first few weeks everything was hard. His body was constantly rigid and tense, constantly believing the darkness of the night had pulled him back to his imprisonment, and his sudden lack of love and empathy filling his every remaining bone. A constant array of fear, hurt, and betrayal, drifting through his every breath and word.
Voltron didn’t want nor need him, and it could only bring him ache to think of his family that had most likely already moved on from him. His head hung in shame, he shuffled through the house, opening cupboards and flicking switches.
Crime was high in the village. Filled with thievery, violence, and destruction. When he’d first witnessed it, his mind took over and he had the guilty on the ground. This continued on for awhile, and Lance found it entirely distressful when they did come of as frighteningly threatening towards him. Locals took it upon themselves to feed and gift him every time he’d breakup another fight, and he slowly found his house growing with its amount of little trinkets and items as thanks.
Jagged rocks poked softly at his side as he fumbled with the carcass of what looked like an oversized caterpillar that dripped in smelly mucus, luckily for Lance, when boiled it lost any distasteful flavour and mixed so well with the native herbs that were always left at his doorstep. Three months into his new life and everything was going smoothly.
Everything was not going smoothly.
Jumping into the air he let out a mechanical screech, twisting around with sharp vigilance to identify the deafening bang that had him ready to attack.
A pod lay unmoving in the earthly ground, steam fogging its every window, a loud temperamental beep that screeched from inside. No Galra soldier within proximity to investigate, Lance stepped forward hesitantly. We’re whoever was inside dead or alive, ally or foe?
“Is everyone alright?”
That voice. He knew that’s voice, and he felt the intense urge to turn and run away but his teammates- former teammates, were they okay, would they be able to fend off any straying Galra?
There were groans of ‘yeahs’ and ‘sort of’ that sounded from inside.
“Where are we?” Keith.
He felt his body go rigid, if he helped them would they recognise him, what would they say and do? He ached for their acknowledgement so badly yet despised them. The pod folded open, the paladins tumbling out, little cracks of them hitting small stones and twigs.
“I lost contact with Coran,” Allura murmured, wearing a pastel pink coloured armour -not blue was all that Lance could think.
“Y-“ Lance’s voice raw and interrupted by constant ‘clicks’-“You better (click) be careful (click), the Galra (click-click) are patrolling the streets.”
All eyes were on him, unconsciously pulling his game closer to him. Apprehensive paladins all watched him with mixtures of surprise and suspicion. Keith had his hand uncomfortably close to his Bayard.
Shiro rubbed his hands together uneasily, cocking an eyebrow at Pidge.
“I’ll need awhile to get my laptop to send a signal without it being intercepted,” she informed, a grim look on her face.
Bewildered, he turned away, they seemed to have this under control. “If you need anything (click) my home may provide shelter from the (click) Galra (click),” he deadpanned as he began his make his way towards his home hidden in the shadow of the building that towered over his.
Ignoring the whispered arguments he moved quickly, relief would be found when they were gone.
“Wait, please,” the soft voice of Allura infiltrated his hearing. “We aren’t in any shape to continue fighting for ourselves at the moment.”
“Allura! We can’t trust him,” Keith snapped, Lance could feel the narrowing of his eyes and the great distrust rolling off of him.
“Paladins please!”
Gruff agreements followed, “stay (click) in the (click) shadows,” he murmured, hearing their following footsteps.
