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    Summary

    The moderator on the right frowned, “This one’s quiet. Sure there isn’t anything wrong with him, boss? Although,” Her face contorted into a grin, “Wouldn’t hurt if we messed him up a little bit, huh?”
    The middle moderator threw his head back, laughing. “Yeah, I-”
    BAM.
    The world was spinning as Taph stood from the position he was thrown into when his Subspace Tripmine went off. Large black wings were folded over his body, protecting him from the worst of the explosion. However, the moderators were not quite as lucky, bodies contorted in various grotesque poses, blood dripping from wounds caused by flying shrapnel. They seemed to be alive, which was his intention anyways. Nevertheless, he ought to check, padding softly up to them, checking their pulse. Yep. Still alive, although the splitting headache they would get when they woke may still finish them off.
    OR

    Preforsakened Taph-centric fic
    (title is from a the rare occasions song)

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    12,273
    Chapters:
    5/?
    Comments:
    68
    Kudos:
    154
    Bookmarks:
    21
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    1,788