BurnTorta
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“Did you try to open it with your teeth again?” Lifeline asked, eyes being glazed with a knowing look watched over Octane’s, “What can I say? I’m impatient and hungry, chica.”
“You’re not supposed to open it roughly, It needs to be all nice and kind for so none of the contents spill out.” She spoke, cradling the neglected and abused piece of fruit from Octane’s hands into her own, prying off each meat-surrounded seed into Octane’s willing palm, “See? Nice and slow.”
Or
Octane is starved for the attention he never got from his father, so he bites straight into the pale, cold shell of the pomegranate.
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Long ago, he sat at the backyard mixing together various plants on a pestle and mortar he stole from the kitchen, crushing down bugs and roots alike while pretending for the mush of dying insects to be some kind of experiment, staring at the other kids playing in the mud when his mom brought him to the park to socialize; just to end up watching them at a safe distance to not get dirties by it while watching all of them with confusion and disgust.
But now, he sat inside an aircraft-like facility going through unholy miles per hour against the currents, staring in-front of the same green chalkboard he had grown accustomed to, chalk long forgotten on the floor as soon as his thoughts had started, ending on a bittersweet note of past reminiscing on his old life.
One where he was Alexander Maxwell, not Mikhail Caustic.
Or
Caustic is cold, unlovable and strict on himself, cherishing his lack of emotional attachment to others.
Mikhail knows he’s getting old and confused, past ghosts of his former self slowly haunting him with the underlying guilt.
Alexander just wishes he could’ve done things differently.
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"And the sun got too close to the flower, it felt the heat burn right through its petals."
Recent bookmarks
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Shelter in Place: AUTOSAVE — COASTROAD NIGHT by ninineen for thegingerbeck, willa_earps
Fandoms: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
25 Jul 2026
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Summary
Same coast road. Same dead coil. Same regulation blanket, and the same freezing night that should have ended in two men quietly falling asleep.
Somewhere behind Harry Du Bois's ribs, the parliament calls an emergency session — twenty-four voices arguing over a kiss neither of them has had yet — and for once in his life, Harry doesn't wait for the ruling.
Two dice go across a table. In one room, the forehead kiss stays a kiss. Not this room.
A save-scum reload of Shelter in Place — same blanket, same Kineema, same lieutenant with dead-fish hands, told from inside Harry's skull — except this time, nobody sleeps until morning.
Series
- Part 2 of Shelter in Place
Bookmarked by BurnTorta
11 Aug 2026
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Summary
Exploring the implications of Harry Du Bois being his worst self.
- Words:
- 20,639
- Works:
- 3
- Bookmarks:
- 4
Bookmarked by BurnTorta
09 Aug 2026
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Summary
Main fic is Minuet and Trio. Other works are Kim point of view spin-offs that didn't fit or weren't relevant to that story or are in argument with some point established in main fic, which I have written anyway because I don't know man, I can't help myself. Everything marked complete stands on its own and works without having read anything else. Fraternity is technically in "continuity" with this but I'm not putting it in this series because it's Jean's point of view.
- Words:
- 37,030
- Works:
- 4
- Bookmarks:
- 1
Bookmarked by BurnTorta
09 Aug 2026
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A dead man bound to a chair, his guts spilled into his lap. An Innocence running in the rain, her silver hair stuck to her skull. A spy, his wife, her ex and his partner.
SHIVERS: SHE'S COMING BACK.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 203,077
- Chapters:
- 19/19
- Comments:
- 1,299
- Kudos:
- 1,023
- Bookmarks:
- 333
- Hits:
- 29,649
Bookmarked by BurnTorta
08 Aug 2026
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Summary
Stranded overnight at a motor-inn a long way from Revachol, unable to sleep, Harry Du Bois plays a joke on a sleeping lieutenant with a pair of regulation cuffs.
Harry thinks this is going to be funny. All Kim has to do is tell him to stop.
He doesn’t.
You do the thing you do when you cannot believe an instrument reading. You check it again. Slow. Deliberate, this time — no tickle, no bit, no schoolyard in it — the flat of your palm dragging back down over the warm skin below the navel.
Kim moans harder.
PERCEPTION (HEARING) [Medium: Success] — That one came from the exact same place the last one did. You can stop calling it a squeak now, Harry. You can stop calling it a lot of things.
Series
- Part 4 of Red Checks and Orange Bombers
Bookmarked by BurnTorta
04 Aug 2026