Phil takes a deep breath and sits up.
And immediately finds himself facing the newest problem of the day.
There are two… piglets? Shoats? Baby piglin. Phil isn't clear on the terminology. whatever they are, they're standing there, peeking around the trunk of one of the crimson trees, staring at him with wide, interested eyes.
Where there a baby piglin, the grown-ups aren't far behind.
The bigger piglet stepped out from behind the tree and starts creeping towards Phil.
"Easy mate, why don't you just go back to your little friend there, I'm sure your babysitters are looking for you two."
The piglet tilts his head, the smaller one starts coming closer as well. Not what Phil wanted.
A deep snort comes from the trees.
That--that would be a Brute.
He's got an axe slung casually over his shoulder, the head is pure netherite, and it looks sharp enough to cut Phil in half.
"Ha, hey mate, I was just telling the kids that you would be looking for them."
- Part 36 of Wait That's Illegal
Bookmarked by StormSaga
30 Nov 2022
There is nothing Phil hates more then arrows. He turns away from the sight of the scattered shafts before it can call up memories of his flock, falling from the sky, sprouting feathers and wood from their throats.
The Godservant trembles under Technoblade’s hand,the Blood God chatters eagerly In Technoblade’s mind. Technoblade closes his eyes against the endless stream. The Blood God’s enthusiasm is nearly overwhelming.
New job, new job, new job
Not our birdie, We’re just borrowing him
If Death wants him back she can come get him
Look at the gold
Poor birdie, Death doesn’t take good care of her angel
The Blood God is right, Death hasn’t taken good care of her Angel. He starved, injured, chained, fresh off of his first brush with his lady. Technoblade can feel, can practically taste, the magic still in the air around him.
He should have recognized the Angel immediately, but he hadn’t been expecting to find an Overworlder. Certainly not so close to the Bastion, he’d thought he would have to go hunting for his new charge. There is no doubt who this is, though.
Death’s claim lays heavy over him.
Technoblade has heard Blood God’s whispered prophecies. The Angel of Death will one day be glorious on the field of battle. A warrior king unmatched by any mortal. But he is not that yet.
Now he’s on his knees before Technoblade, without even a fight, trembling with fear and exhaustion. It’s no wonder why Death has put her Angel in Technoblade’s care.
Death and the God of War go hand-in-hand. There is no other God’s servant whom she would trust with her Angel.
Even if Technoblade was not, at least a little bit, intrigued by this chance, he would do his best by the Angel of Death. For all that he never intends to die, pissing off the Goddess of Death is not a smart plan, and Technoblade likes to think that he’s a smart man.
As it is, Technoblade looks forward to looking after the Angel. To bringing the Angel to his full glory, even to restoring him to something more than…this. He has always had an eye for restorations, for taking the old and broken and making it new and good again.
The Angel will be his greatest project.
Gently, Technoblade nudges him to his feet. They have a long way to go.
Elytrian are a social species, he’s meant to have a flock. Phil has been alone for so long, with only the cold touch of death to soothe him.
In case it wasn't super clear: Techno and Phil are both their gods' Chosen Ones, but Techno has been doing this whole gig for a lot longer than Phil. And Phil is....kind of bad at it, right now. He's been having a very bad time :( So Mumza went over to the Blood God and went "could u have ur dude babysit mine? He is Struggling" and the Blood God was like "why did you pick the most pathetic man ever to be your Champion" but he still did it because he's nice like that.
Techno knew to be on the lookout for his new charge, but he was expecting it to be a piglin, not an avian, and all the other piglin in his group were not happy that this new Godservant that they were going to get to host was a sad looking feather heap instead of another massive unbeatable warrior and they were like "no surely that's the wrong person" but the gold on Phil's wings proves that he is indeed a Godservant so Techno told them to fuck off
Phil will get taken care of now and he'll have Techno to protect him and teach him how to take care of himself. (After Phil has some time to settle in and figure himself out. My dude has been having A Time and he deserves to have a vacation)
25 Nov 2022
Lambert finds a very battered stranger in an alley and takes him home.
Aiden is extremely surprised to have been rescued, and even more intrigued by his rescuer.
Bookmarked by StormSaga
26 Nov 2022
“He leaves Mathew Holt behind and becomes someone new, someone deadly, hidden in plain sight, a shadow, a creeping dread, right in the heart of the Galra empire. He is prisoner 1277-8 and he is a complete idiot.”
Or: We all know Matt's a pretty smart cookie, so why wasn't he with his father and the other smart prisoners?
Bookmarked by StormSaga
07 Nov 2022
Later, when he tells the story, he will say that it began as innocently as widespread rebellion can begin.
There is another alien in the room, this one is a pale lavender with a white crest on its head. Part of Matt wonders if its a different species, or if perhaps this one is female, or maybe these aliens have biological castes.
The alien looks over him with clinical detachment, eyes catching on the wound on his leg and the blood spilling down his face from the guard's blow. “Prisoner.” The new alien barks, “sit up.”
He must have a concussion because the only thing Matt can think to say is: “tol' me not to move.”
This is the beginning.
He isn't sure how his reputation spreads, but it does, and it does quickly. Before the day is out, or whatever passes for a day here in space, among aliens, he is even more famous than Shiro. Sure, the new gladiator beat a longstanding champion, but there's a prisoner down in the cells that's a complete idiot.
The aliens are cruel and bored, and Matt is an easy target. At first, he's confused when there are waves of aliens coming down to the cells to order him to do random actions, but he figures that antagonizing his captors is a bad move, so he obeys. He jumps up and down, he touches his toes, he tries to lick his elbow. He doesn't realize what a gift he's been given until he's transferred.
His leg is too damaged to send him back into the arena, so they make him into slave labor. He is chained to a group of other aliens and they're all crammed into the cargo hold of a tiny ship and flown out into space.
When he gets off, he finds his reputation has arrived ahead of him. He is plucked out of line by a pair of guards. “Is this the one, then, the other one from the Champion's planet? Why isn't he in the arena? I'd love to see the Champion go up against one of his own kind.” The first guard says.
“Nah,” replies his companion. “This one's too dumb for the arena, some kind of brain damage during capture, they say, he's a complete idiot. Follow any order you give him, never talks back, never complains, but he hasn't got two brain cells to rub together.”
A spiteful, childish part of Matt's mind taps him on the shoulder and says, 'we could work with that.” And so he does.
He is the greatest idiot this side of the cosmos, the Galra—as he learns they are called—tell him to put ration packs in the storage bay? He moves exactly two and puts on his best wide-eyed innocent expression, the one that never worked on his mother, and says “Oh! I didn't know you wanted me to move all of the ration packs.”
His overseer groans, “Why would I only want you to—nevermind.”
What begins as petty revenge, soon becomes an advantage. The Galra Empire is full of arrogant people who feel their talents haven't been appreciated, and there is nothing a narcissist loves more than an idiot. The guards tell him of their victories, “I was on the front lines in the Barona system, the front lines, I tell you. If the emperor himself had been there he would have promoted me on the spot! But no, I get stuck out here on a mining planet.”
And because he is an idiot, the Galra tell him. After all, he can't figure out which hole his head goes through on his uniform, what would he do with a blaster? He is endearing in the way all harmless idiots are, and the Galra eat it up. He gets a nickname, he is more pet than slave, and nothing is off limits to him.
“Rebels?” He asks, he hopes his overseer thinks the choke in his voice is surprising. “Who would want to rebel against Zarkon?”
His overseer pats him on the head, “I don't know, Sevens, but they're even bigger idiots than you.”
Matt smiles that blank smile with his wide blank eyes and laughs with his overseer. Inside, his mind is spinning out idea after idea.
And then he lets Matt lose into the Galra mainframe, no file is restricted, no information off limits. After all, he's an idiot, a loyal idiot, what's he going to do?
His overseer leaves him to it and Matt resists the urge to throw his head back and cackle. Now, now his work can truly begin. His first step is to actually begin color coding the Galra mainframe, because, what are they, animals? He delves into every file, every scrap of information, every piece of code. That is where he finds them, the rebels, hidden in a primitive back door into the Galra system.
Hello. He says to them.
There must be all sorts of panic on the other side because they try to close the door, try to kick him out of their system, but Matt was trained in coding by the Galra themselves because the base technician liked to talk to himself while he worked.
I'm not Galra. Matt says. At first, the rebels don't trust him, he can accept that, but slowly, as he feeds them information and it pans out, they begin to appreciate their contact. This, too, is a beginning.
A bat that is found indoors is most likely to be a crevice-dwelling species. These bats are often lost youngsters or migrating bats. Oftentimes they will find their way out through an open window after dark. If this is not an option, and if you feel confident that you can move the animal without physically touching it or injuring it, proceed to step one.
Or: Batgirl is injured. Jim Gordon isn't sure he's the one to be dealing with this.
Bookmarked by StormSaga
07 Nov 2022
“Batgirl.” Jim said quietly. He'd hung around the big man enough to know that you didn't sneak up on a bat, especially a wounded one. True to this assumption, the sound of his voice startled Batgirl into swiping blindly with a batarang. Had he been closer, she likely would have left a nasty cut on his leg. “Batgirl.” he tried again. “Its me, the commissioner.”
“Dad?” she asked weakly and oh God, how bad was this if she was confusing him with her father?
“No.” he said gently, the last thing he needed was her thinking he was her father and accidentally giving away her identity. “Its Jim Gordon.”
She blinked and shook her head, as though trying to clear a fog. “...Right.” she managed, once again trying to lever herself up, this time with a little more success. Now Jim could see the dark puddle of blood underneath her body, staining her suit. Shit. That was not good. She leaned her upper body against the wall, seeming to gather herself before looking at him with the unsettling pure white eyes of her cowl.
Serial Killler Au AU (AKA: What if I was killing a rival serial killer and I found a tiny bird child and I ended up technically kidnapping him a little bit so I took him to your house because you and your wife are good with kids haha jk....unless?) by SilverWing15
Fandoms: Dream SMP
10 Aug 2022
Techno’s morals aren’t standard, but he would never hurt kids.
This guy did.
The other serial killer who was--Technoblade allows himself a satisfied smile at the past tense--operating in the Blood God’s city. Now he’s dead, and the kids out there on the street are safe.
The door opens.
There’s a boy at the top of the stairs. Little, maybe six or seven, the light is behind him, but Technoblade can see his hair is blond. Techno would bet money on the kid’s eyes being blue.
- Part 24 of Wait That's Illegal
Bookmarked by StormSaga
07 Nov 2022
Dream is human, and he has no family. No son, no little brother, Technoblade made sure of that. Dream lives alone.
But the few witnesses to the Smiley Killer’s abductions have said that their friends were lured off by a kid. An avian kid.
He needs to get the kid out of here.
He needs to keep the feral little thing calm until Phil can come and take over.
….birds are supposed to calm down in the dark, right?
Its dark, and he hates the dark, hates not knowing whats coming. His instincts tell him its safe, that nothing could see him here, so nothing could hurt him, but he’s not an idiot. He knows better than to believe that.
The car turns, and starts rattling. The road is really bumpy, and there are sharp taps and tocks of things hitting the sides that make Tommy flinch. After a moment, he realizes its a familiar sound. A gravel road.
They’re going somewhere far away from the city.
A tiny chirp escapes his lips. Nobody could hear him in Dream’s house, nobody but Dream and the boys he took down to the basement. Nobody could hear the boys either. Nobody but Tommy.
Tears burn in his eyes.
He just wants Puffy. He wants Henry, he’s not seen Henry since he went to help Dream find his stupid fake dog. He wonders if his fosters gave Henry back to Puffy, or if they just threw him away.
Maybe the man will throw Tommy away too, after he’s done with him. Maybe he and Henry can find each other wherever all the garbage goes when the trucks come to take it away.
Tommy wraps his blanket tighter around himself.
The man is sitting on the lip of the trunk, his head ducked down so he doesn’t bump it on the lid. He has wings, great black wings, held low so they drape over the trunk.
Tommy aches to hide in them. To feel the press of warmth and feathers keeping him safe. He clenches his jaw, his fists, curls his toes, anything to keep him from doing something so monumentally stupid.
The woman is kneeling, her arms resting on the lip of the trunk, her chin resting on them. She has wings too, black, like the man’s, but where the sunlight hits her feathers, they turn a deep, shimmering purple.
The woman’s eyes meet his. Tommy chirps fearfully and covers his head with his arms. He doesn’t know what to do, where to go, he just wants--
“Don’t open the trunk until I knock,” the woman says.
She sounds close.
Tommy looks up.
The woman gets into the trunk and shuts the lid behind her.
Darkness falls over him, over them.
The world outside is muffled, all Tommy can hear is the sound of his panicked breathing, and the woman’s slower breaths.
She’s in the trunk with him.
Why is she in the trunk?? Why did she do that?
Tommy forgets to be afraid for a moment, he’s just so confused.
She just? Got into the trunk? Like it was the most natural thing in the world. He blinks in the darkness.
“...hi,” the woman whispers softly.
Tommy takes a sharp breath.
“My name is Kristin.”
Feathers rustle and the car moves a bit, and Tommy can see the vague shape of the lady--Kristin--turn onto her side. He thinks she’s facing him now.
“That’s my husband Phil out there,” she says, “and his best friend Techno. Well, Techno’s my friend too, but the two of them knew each other first.”
What is she…doing?
Tommy keeps staring at her, even though he can’t see very well.
“Techno’s a bit of a goofus,” Kristin says.
“He’s not good at…people. Especially not kids. He likes kids, but he doesn’t know what to do with them. Me and Phil, well, I like to think I’m good with kids.
“I’ll be honest, most of my experience comes with crows. Like, actual crows. We saved one once and now the whole flock has adopted us. Since we both have black wings, we joked that they’re our kids, and its just kind of stuck.”
What is she talking about?
That--does sound kind of cool. Having a bunch of crows following you around.
But Tommy is still so confused.
He takes a breath, another. He realizes, belatedly, that he’s not breathing so fast anymore. He licks his lips.
“What--” he croaks. He can’t bring himself to say more.
“Hm?” Kristin asks. “Do you wanna know their names?”
Kristin starts telling him about the crows, ‘chat’ they’re apparently called. There’s apparently a lot of them.
Its sort of cool, but also Tommy doesn’t care about the crows.
Phil is *totally* fucking hovering over the trunk. got his ear pressed to it and everything. How dare his wife steal Baby Time >:( He was gonna do that!