#This is not helping Shockwave’s insomnia | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wordtotherose · 8 months

Note

Hi it me!!! Thank you so much again! 9 to 15, astarion being the receiver? 😏

Hiya! I only fit the eyelid kiss in because this got away from me but I hope you enjoy regardless! Thank you for the prompt!

***

Gortash's scrying screen is cut off mid-threat by Elizia's fist slamming into the glass. It shatters with a satisfying crunch and whilst it isn't enough to be visible from where he's stood across the ship, the faint scent of her blood itches his jaw. Silence overtakes the submersible even as the first of the explosions reverberate through the water and jolt them slightly. Astarion, having recieved prompting looks from the rest of their small party, clears his throat, not entirely confident in what he's going to say but it turns out not to be necessary. Elizia snaps herself together and leads them smoothly into docking, having been instructed by the dwarf who, in an unshocking display of cowardice, refused to accompany them, lowering their chances of success that much more. Shadowheart starts handing out dimension door scrolls. To make himself useful Astarion crouches down to Elizia's pack pushed out of the way and rummages around for the fire protection potions he watched her brew the night before in preparation for storming the Steel Watch Foundry.

"Things are going to happen fast," Elizia says, calm and unwavering as stone, reassuring in her cool determination. "We are not going to waste a single second. I don't care if they are annoying, if they swear at you, threaten you, anything, okay?"

"That feels a little pointed, love," Astarion can't help but grumble, Shadowheart shrugs a shoulder at him as if to say 'yes, but true'. He deliberately leaves her until last to get an elixir.

Elizia ignores him and continues as if he hadn't spoken which has him setting his shoulders, the gravity of what she's asking of them settling in with icey numbness. "You see a cell door with people behind it, you open it. You move on to the next. If it's locks and not levers or buttons then Astarion you prioritise any children and go from there. I-" the Iron Throne rumbles as another shockwave explodes, "Shit, okay. Shadowheart, cover us and dimension door where you see us needing to go. Hatch is safe to open in- three...two...now! Go!"

It's chaos. Pure and simple. Nonsensical and horrifying. The water rushing into the prison behind the automatically locked doors along with the echoing of every voice off the walls and floors ruins any chance of verbal communication. So Elizia, with a succinct mental prod to make them aware of what she's about to do all of half a second before she does it uses their last resort. The tadpoles have not been something Astarion has played with, not even had a passing fancy to. He knows Elizia has utilised her one, and the extra she actually ate out of pure curiosity one insomnia-ravaged night when she hadn't realised he was watching, from time to time to get them desperately needed information or safe passage. She has not used them to creep into their minds though. Let alone force her way past any mental protections they had standing, obliterating any resistance with ease. Not until now.

Continue Reading on AO3 or under the cut!

Creeping is not quite what she's doing. Bombarding them. Assimilating them. Bringing them so fully into her thoughts that her directions, her orders, are mere feeling, basic instinct, shared understanding of the situation as she sees it. Changing every millisecond as she takes in new information like she's been starving for it. For what feels like hours they race against the explosions and the deep ocean pressure to get every Gondian they can, and apparently Wyll's father, out of the prison and up the ladders to the ship. Astarion is beyond relieved when the prison works on mechanicisms rather than traditional locks and he can feel that relief bounched back twofold by Elizia in his head. He clears his area first, shutting the doors in the corridor behind him, and he goes to help Shadowheart with her side. Lae'zel is the one to tell Mizora where she can go shove her petty interference and slash down the spiders in one foul dance across the room. The Duke, to give him due credit, does follow the Gith's orders and go straight for the ladders rather than trying to join in the fight.

Elizia is the last to safety. She crawls up through the hatch, rolls to the side to clear the way for Lae'zel to slam it shut. At the same time she withdraws from their minds. Astarion reels in the sudden silence of being alone again, of not seeing and hearing and experiencing double. He looks to see if the others are as affected and whilst they do well to hide it as they go about sorting the prisoners into seats and out of the way, the pinched brow Lae'zel is sporting and the stiff movements from Shadowheart give them away. He turns to check on Elizia, ready to steady her after all of that, but she's already undocking them from the Iron Throne and starting to steer them back to the city. One of the Gondian's is bleeding enough to make his stomach roil so he scowls and goes to hand out health potions.

It is a testament to their leader's exhaustion that she tries to intimidate the fish cult woman only once before letting her start a fight. Astarion truly cannot be fucked remembering who it is they help or don't anymore unless they pop up at least a second time in their journey, preferably a third to learn their name. These have not left a lasting impression so he lets himself take in the thrill of ending them with limited efficiency. All of them are sluggish and Lae'zel's damned boots accidentally electrocuting them all does not help. By the time the fish women are lying dead in puddles of the salt water they so adored, Elizia is clearly exhausted. He watches her struggle through, accept the gold handed over from the dwarf, and give the direction to head back to the Elfsong.

It's when he wanders over to her side, knuckles of his fingers casually grazing against the back of her hand in an offer, that he realises the extent of her distress. As soon as he touches her she flinches away, startling away like she hadn't noticed him approach, and there's a mental shove at his mind as if Elizia is using what hold she has on her two hitchhikers to repel him. He apologises quietly and gives her the space she so dearly needs. She doesn't even thank him, becoming lost in herself again immediately.

Back at camp, Astarion packs a bag before even washing the bloody grit of the day away. He hesitates over shoving in one of his own blankets but ultimately decides that Elizia is exactly the sentimental sort to appreciate the offer of having something of his with her. He still hides it at the bottom just in case she isn't the one to unpack. Backpack ready, he drops it at Halsin's feet without a greeting.

The burly druid looks down at the bag then back up at him quizzically.

"Is this your way of telling me to get lost?" He asks, that damnably kind twinkle in his eyes to ease any contention his words may provoke.

It's not necessary, Astarion knows where he stands with Elizia, and she with him. She's got him, and he's got her. This is part of having her back.

"No, though it is sweet of you to be so amenable if it were. But no. You need to take Tav out of the city for the night. The forest or the coast or... I don't know. Somewhere quiet. You aren't tadpoled right?"

Halsin's smile has drifted away, concern clouding his expression as he looks over to where Elizia is curled up with the owlbear near the door.

"Is she okay?"

"It has...been a tough day. She needs to be away from people for a bit, get some peace and quiet away from this noisy lot."

"Why aren't you going with her?" He questions, picking up the bag to sling it over one shoulder.

Astarion taps the side of his forehead. "The tadpoles got a taste of each other today, let's say, and they're greedy for more. It's uncomfortable and I expect more so for her right now."

Halsin nods solemnly. "Understood. I'll keep her safe, Astarion. I promise you."

"You had better. The end of the world will not be your biggest problem if she doesn't come back safe. And mind you don't give her any blackberries, she's allergic."

He hangs back as Halsin crosses the room to offer Elizia a hand up from the ground. He can't quite hear what the druid is saying but Elizia's glance over at him suggests that the credit is being given to him, she smiles, a small tremulous thing, before turning back to Halsin who somehow already has her travelling coat ready for her.

The first of dawn's misty light is sneaking into the upper floor of the Elfsong when Astarion slips out of meditation. The weight above, and sort of on him in an uncomfortable misidentification of where his legs were under the blanket, stills.

"Sorry," Elizia whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead, "and thank you."

He tilts his chin up for a sleepy kiss which she grants chastely before giving a featherlight kiss to his stubbornly still closed eyelids. Satisfied, she finishes crawling inbetween him and the wall and fights her way under the blanket. Once settled he rolls onto his side to curl up around her as she lies on her front. He's never understood her favouring sleeping on her chest, neck craned so she doesn't suffocate herself. But she does and so he provides the weight she enjoys when relaxing, lying carefully half on top of her, arm around her waist and face buried in her neck, her braids tickling his skin only slightly. He dozes whilst she sleeps until Gale starts up on breakfast later in the morning.

#my writing #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #act 3 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #halsin #he be here enough to warrant a tag #promise #fanfic

17 notes · View notes

transingthoseformers · 2 years

Text

"Riot why are you up still" weird sleep schedule

I wonder a little too much about the Decepticons' sleep schedules because A. I've seen so many insomnia and nightmare and sleep headcanons for the autobots that I just HAD to think about the Decepticons. So, ideas!

Starscream definitely is a blanket stealer, and moves around a lot while recharging. It's definitely a common occurrence for him to quite literally fall out of berth. After his time as a rogue, he likely missed many of the old comforts of before and sure as hell won't give them up now. I feel like he would he Very jumpy about people entering his quarters, especially when he's recharging. He's definitely got some form of "do not enter" sign

Soundwave has a very rigid schedule, and Everything has to be Correct in order for him to go to recharge. I'm also betting he plays white noise, or sleeps somewhere where he can hear the engines hum. idk i just feel like he has OCD and that this is when it really comes to shine, somewhere that necessitates him being incapacitated. It's probably Lazerbeak who reminds him to recharge. He is the damn backbone of this ship and you gotta treat your back right

Megatron just feels like someone who gets up in the middle of recharge to walk around. He would say it's because he's plotting against the autobots, but I think it would be a multitude of reasons. Insomnia, the dark energon, thinking about Optimus (because you can't tell me he doesn't obsess HARD over his nemesis) You could easily mistake this for sleepwalking, but I'd aliken it to more of a trance. He'll return to his quarters... eventually, he just needs a moment to think.

Good luck getting Shockwave to recharge. He spends way too much time in his lab, has probably invented some form of stimulant to keep him awake that Knockout advises against. He spends as much time on his experiments as logically possible and won't hesitate to push his biology just a little further. This fucker would need to be dragged to berth, but is out like a light once he's in.

Knockout has a pre-recharge self care routine that Breakdown helps/has helped with, and god forbid it's interrupted. After Breakdown's death, Knockout spent a lot of time in the medbay unable to face their quarters alone. I'm guessing that he found himself recharging next to Cylas a few times, having thought it was Breakdown. Those times probably didn't turn out so well for Cylas once the realization hit though.

I headcanon that Breakdown had a lot of nightmares after his run in with MECH, and that Knockout would soothe them away. Recharging in the medbay was a common occurrence before it, but after MECH he avoided it like the plague. He enjoyed taking part in the self care routine, using it to ground himself during tougher nights. Breakdown is good with a buffer yeah but Knockout isn't half bad either.

Arachnid likely grew used to recharging in odd places, from her time hunting trophies to living in the Earth wilderness. She had to find shelter that was hidden from not only the weather, but also humans and the other mecha in the war. To me she feels like one of those people who like to sleep in enclosed spaces. Her time on the Nemesis was probably spent staying out of the usual hustle and bustle of the ship.

Dreadwing was used to being separated from his twin for long periods of time, but it was different once Skyquake was gone. I feel like he would need some sleep aids in his energon in order to properly recharge. I headcanon that during season two if you encountered a Decepticon at night, chances are it was him flying around.

Cylas. Why am i putting Cylas here? Well, he was on the ship for around a season, and he was in a very interesting situation. It took him a while to figure out how to get his Cybertronian systems to calm down, and he was woken up from the sheer pain more than a few times. I can tell you from experience that at some point, your pain receptors start to ignore it and he eventually got to the point where he could recharge peacefully.

The vehicons and eradicons know that they're considered expendable, so they've all agreed on various shifts and schedules to earn their brethren some well deserved rest. I hc that they definitely have a dorm situation going where they have lots of roommates in relatively small quarters. At first it was probably a very uncomfortable living situation, but at this point in the war it became endearing. A select amount of vehicons are awake when the majority of the ship is recharging, and this is probably the most peaceful time upon the Nemesis.

Predaking at first was fully down to recharge on the floor, but as he grew more aware and learned more he started to loathe it. When he came out as welllllll Predaking he was reluctantly given a habsuite of his own, where he became absolutely entranced with having his own berth. Although he was by far too large to fully fit on it, i am exactly saying he would make a little lair out of the habsuite with a hoard of (relatively) soft objects. Maybe there's a reason dragons sleep on hoards of gold after all.

Now, these are mostly made up right here on the spot and surprisingly this post took an hour to make, but they just feel right. Whether you take this seriously or as a massive shitpost is up to you. Good luck, and to anyone else in my timezone GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP :)

#transformers #decepticons #transformers prime #though you can apply this to many other continuities #tfp megatron #tfp knockout #tfp starscream #tfp soundwave #tfp shockwave #tfp cylas #tfp predaking #tfp breakdown #tfp vehicons #i tried to be super duper fair about it and give everyone around the same length of post #there's a read more yeah #under the cut #but the tags are already getting too long

25 notes · View notes

every-marveler-ever · 1 year

Text

Idea’s Keep From Sleeping

Fluffbruary Day 14 | @fluffbruary | Idea

Bucky Barnes Flash Bingo | 📚 @buckybarnesbingo | Ultimatum

IronHusbands Bingo Round 4 | 🗯️ @ironhusbandsbingo | Insomnia

masterlist :: (ao3 link)

RATING: General WARNING: Insomnia mentions and descriptors, carrying to bed, war mentions (not graphic detail).

A/N: 2 back to back Rhodey/Bucky/Tony fics? I definitely feel like I see a trend (and new ot3) coming along. But my title’s lately have been so bad, I’m sorry lol.

Bucky goes to collect Tony from the lab so they can all go to bed together for once, but then Bucky gets distracted and so then it’s up to Rhodey to figure it all out. | Tony Stark/James 'Bucky'Barnes/James 'Rhodey' Rhodes

fluffbruary 2023 | bbb 📚 flash | ihb 🗯️ round 4

“Am I going to have to pick you up and drag you to bed?” Tony’s eyebrows frown as he sees Bucky in the lab doorway, “Peter’s coming over tomorrow and I know that you want spend the whole day with him and despite how lovely he is Peter takes a lot of energy, so bed.” Bucky tells the truth and he’s not acting especially politely because this is day 3 of Tony not coming to bed with him and Rhodey.

Tony would retaliate that he had been sleeping and JARVIS was logging it as sleep in his habit tracker, but it was sleep in the lab and in short periods of time, which Rhodey may count but Bucky did not. Bucky spent a whole war not slepping properly he was not going to let Tony not sleep because of the lab.

Frowning Tony watched as JARVIS turned off his holographic blueprints, “did Rhodey send you down?” If Rhodey had sent Bucky down that is when he knew it was bad, he was actually in trouble. Tony used his puppy dog eyes to his best advantage when he says, “becuase I was working on the new blueprints of your arm, and I just had to get ti done, but if you wanted to help…” Tony trailed up and it didn’t take much for Bucky to be gesturing for the holograms to resume their positions and sit in the wheely chair next to Tony.

Quickly Bucky became just as excited about the project as Tony was previously before ebing interrupted, he was confiscating Tony’s coffee by drinking it himself, but in Tony’s eyes you lose some you win some and his partner influencing his insomnia seemed to be a win.

“Have you thought about the feature I was telling you? The shockwave one that I could maybe turn off and on?” Bucky’s tone raised as he became excited and Tony snikered.

They spent the next hour sitting like that, shoulder to shoulder in their individual chairs, Tony’s backless stoll and Bucky’s wheely chair. It seemed to be they were making decent process on the schematics when they were interrupted by a cough from the door way, both men’s eyes went wide.

They were in trouble if Rhodey unpleased expression was anything to go by. There was a loud gulp from beside Tony.

“I seem to remember giving Bucky 20 minutes to make sure you were in bed, which seems strange because it’s over an hour later and you are both still in the lab. I know for a fact that it does not take 20 minuted to turn off holograms and have Bucky carry you to bed. Thought I should investigate what was really happening.” Tony gulp was just as loud as Bucky’s previous one.

Looking to eachother they both are quick to fend for an apology, random words spilling out of their individual mouths.

Rhodey’s eye squint and he lifts his hand into a stop motion, “my ultimatum for you both is you follow me to bed as I walk out and then I get a massage when we get back to bed, because I am exhausted and because of the stress you two have caused me,” Rhodey side eyes them both, “I have knots all over my body.”

Coming closer to his partners so he is stadnign across from the works bench with one flick of a hand, and then leaves without another word.

Bucky and Tony scramble as they are quick to follow, “that is not an ultimatum,” Tony whispers to Bucky, Bucky nods, “I’m fairly sure he knows that.”

Sleep, sleep sounds good now.

Cards:

#fluffbruary #fluffbruary 2023 #fluffbruary2023 #bbbflash2023 #ironhusbandsbingo #ironhusbandsbingoround4 #every-marveler-ever #every marveler ever #tony stark #bucky barnes #rhodey #james 'rhodey' rhodes #james 'bucky' barnes

3 notes · View notes

unitshow05 · 2 years

Text

Find out how I Cured My Massage In 2 Days

If you are feeling stressed, sore and overtired -- in different words, in need of a massage -- however you're not quite in the mood for a strenuous muscle-kneading session, an aromatherapy massage could possibly be right up your alley. Businesswoman Inge Theron based the company after she discovered the power of facial massage while detoxing from the injectables. An excellent alternative, if it's obtainable, is a custom-made facial designed to treat all the objects on your facial to-do checklist. Here you will discover particular recipes to that use aromatherapy to deal with a wide variety of medical conditions, from acne to insomnia to warts. To treat pimples and discourage blemishes, apply a mixture of calamine lotion and 1 percent phenol (obtainable at a drugstore). Curcumin is one of those items that shows promise of providing quite a lot of well being advantages. Hippocrates. Fast-forward about 2,four hundred years -- it appears that evidently hardly a week goes by with out an announcement that some examine has concluded that a certain meals item has specific well being advantages.

The use of curcumin abounds in treating quite a lot of skin conditions, but because most of the evidence is still inconclusive at finest, the scientific jury continues to be out on its definitive benefits. Or, try the following liquid for a variety of skin improvements. If there is not any enchancment, the practitioner might try one other remedy. Although the exact prescription for a person patient may require skilled consultation, urtica (stinging nettles) can typically provide relief from acute assaults of hay fever. It might outcome from a weakness in energy, or qi, within the lungs, which might go away the respiratory system in an unhealthy state. Instead, the shockwaves jolt your musculoskeletal system. 스웨디시마사지 for Allergies -- Hypnotic trances can provide the subconscious thoughts healing solutions, resembling that the immune system is able to tolerate a certain allergen. Just take into account that it is important to house those treatments out as much as potential.

Mind/Body Medicine for Allergies -- Because allergies will be discovered, the mind can play an energetic role in treating them as well. I have found that a cream referred to as capsaicin works well on this itch. Simultaneously, different cells known as osteoblasts are taking calcium from the blood and redistributing it upon the bone. Often called a bladder infection, a urinary tract infection (UTI) can affect not solely the bladder but in addition the kidney and the urethra, the tube that carries urine out of the body. Furthermore, it's wanted for amino acid metabolism and the synthesis of hormones, together with the thyroid hormone that controls the speed of metabolism in the body. Several herbs, together with valerian, skullcap, and rosemary, help decrease muscle spasms; drink tea made from them. Some researchers are utilizing it or testing it on a variety of pores and skin circumstances, together with eczema, scabies and chronic pores and skin ulcers. Foods are reduce from the weight loss plan for a couple of weeks to see if symptoms disappear. Food additives may carry on allergy symptoms. Exposure to the allergen (the material that causes the allergy) can result in uncomfortable, debilitating, or probably even life-threatening reactions.

Tornados do occur and so they generally is a menace to the Central Texas space throughout tornado season, often March by May, however they're comparatively uncommon in Austin proper. Yet in hindsight, this was a restricted series that didn't appear to appreciate it -- a present destined to run one season, maybe two, however which couldn't maintain its delicate juggling act for four. For sufferers of seasonal allergic rhinitis (commonly generally known as hay fever), this therapy is particularly promising; a minimum of 4 scientific studies have shown the effectiveness of a homeopathic remedy for hay fever. Move digital tools (alarm clocks, stereos, etc.) at the least six ft away from your bed. Take no less than 2,000 milligrams three times or more per day with or with out meals. For more data on this natural ingredient and its doable advantages, go to the hyperlinks on the subsequent page. However, in depth use of turmeric carries the risk of doable pores and skin rashes and irritation. Just be sure to use rugs with nonslip coatings on again or use nonslip rug pads.

#massage #health #well-beng #beauty #spa #aroma #healing #life #theraphy

0 notes

liaswritesrobots · 2 years

Note

Hello could I have a platonic bot and con match-up for Transformers Animated?

I like reading, writing, cooking, sewing, and seeing/petting animals! I love playing chess and am always looking for new people to play. Warm drinks like tea and hot chocolate are my favorite.

Personality wise I think I'm the kind of person who lay in front of my computer all day but would go out in the cold just to see some deer. That I'm lazy but I put effort and energy for things/ people I care about. I'm an older sibling, so I have a protective streak. I can be a bit childish, I sometimes do little pranks but admit to them easily with a nervous laugh. I'm Ace/Aro, I like hugs and small kisses but am not comfortable with anything else. I'm prone to self deprivation and over think things.

Am definitely a night owl, with my crazy insomnia. My favorite places to visit are libraries(I've worked in a few), museums, aquariums, forest, and out door markets. I consider my love language to be gifts and food, I love making things for people I care about.

Your friends would be...

Bumblebee and Shockwave!

They don't mind that you probably rather sit in front of a screen than go out because they prefer that too, though they will check out an animal outside if they see you get excited about it, especially Shockwave since he likes to learn about new things. They're impressed at how creative you are and love to see your finished projects, especially when you make something for them. Shockwave loves playing chess with you and Bumblebee likes to watch you cook. They like how protective you are because they're very protective over you as well. Bumblebee likes how childish you can be and loves to pull pranks with you, Shockwave doesn't mind helping you pull pranks on Lugnut and Blitzwing. Shockwave respects that you're not a big fan of a lot of affection because he isn't either, and Bumblebee is fine with it too even though he likes to hug you. Bumblebee also makes self deprecating jokes so he relates when you do but also tries to hype you up so that you know how awesome he thinks you are and Shockwave will try to subtly give you small confidence boosts with words of affirmation. They like that you're active at night, especially Shockwave since he has a lot of all nighters, he likes when you stay and keep him company while he works. Shockwave likes to go to libraries and museums with you to learn more about humans and Bumblebee loves trips to the aquarium, he likes to see all the pretty little fish!

Other possible friend matches: Ultra Magnus, Blurr, Prowl, Blitzwing, Megatron, Skywarp

#transformers match ups #transformers matchups #tf match ups #tf matchups #match ups #matchups #Bumblebee #Shockwave #asks #cf8wrk4u us

10 notes · View notes

iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Teas and Tisanes // G.W.

Request: Another request for my boy Georgie because I'm a needy bitch! Hahaha Set during OoTP, and they're at school and the whole Umbridge situation is really getting to the reader, and her anxiety spikes and she's struggling with sleeping and she hides her panic attacks from her amazing boyfriend (but he notices, just doesn't want to push!), until one night it gets so bad, she ends up sneaking into his room and sobbing in his arms and he soothes her and helps het sleep? just comfort and fluff!

A/N: Here’s your request! I’ve been working on it for so long so I hope it’s okay! Feedback is appreciated in any form whether it’s likes, reblogs or comments. As always, I hope you all like!

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, insomnia, nightmares and panic attacks BUT A LOAD OF COMFORT AND FLUFF AND A HAPPY ENDING.

Word count: 2.9k

The appointment of Dolores Umbridge as Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sent shockwaves through the entire student body.

They were all well aware of Umbridge’s presence – it was hard not to be, after all. With her constant decrees and her iron fist, Umbridge had become public enemy number one for the students at Hogwarts.

You had always had issues with anxiety; struggling with panic attacks since your early teens, but since the appointment of Umbridge, you’re experiencing the attacks and the sleeplessness that follows much more often.

There felt like there was no end in sight as you sat up night after night; tiptoeing down to the common room, sitting with your knees pulled up to your chest, resting your cheek upon them. The usual heaviness settling over you as if greeting an old friend, and from then, you knew that the next few would days would be spent jumping at loud noises and such.

George realises something’s wrong a day into your panicked state. He makes the extra effort to walk you to every class; holding your hand that little bit tighter, silently letting you know that he is there – and he always will be. He’s loved you since Fifth Year, and now two years later in your Seventh, George is certain he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. He’s well aware of how young you were, but his parents have loved each other since their Hogwarts years and who better to emulate than Arthur and Molly Weasley?

In a private moment in the Gryffindor common room, George pulls you to one side. One hand tangling with yours whilst the other brushes against your cheekbone. You lean into his touch; loving having him so close to you.

“You know I’m here, don’t you? If you ever need to tell me anything.”

“I know, I know,” You comment, burying your face in his chest.

His arms come to wrap around you tightly; his chin resting atop your head.

You hide the tears that threaten to fall. You just squeeze him that little bit tighter, thankful to know that he’s here and waiting for you to come to him.

-----

In your mind, Herbology is one of the calmest subjects offered at Hogwarts. Sitting in the greenhouse, you understand how young Neville Longbottom fell in love with the subject; deciding at such a young age to dedicate his future career too it.

You sit next to George throughout the lesson, and whilst it is one of the calmest subjects, it doesn’t stop your knee from jerking up and down for the majority of the lesson.

It seemed even in the safety of the glass greenhouse; your anxiety would not let up.

Thankfully, Professor Sprout has you up and about repotting Asphodel plants that have grown too big. It keeps you distracted for a time; your mind too busy on not damaging the valuable roots instead of on the crushing anxiety settling in your gut.

George flashes you wary glances throughout the class, and all you can do, is smile back at him with what you hope is reassurance. Each time you find yourself next to the red-headed teenager, you brush your hand against his gently. It takes everything within him not to pull you from the greenhouse and whisper reassuring words into your ear until you begin to believe them.

The bell rings, however. Standing from your seat, you look over to George where he remains seated.

“George?”

“I’ll follow you out, love. I need to ask Professor Sprout something.”

You smile smally at George before you leave the greenhouse. He promises he’ll meet you in the common room soon; you nod before grabbing your bag and heading out of the door.

George approaches Professor Sprout after the particularly long lesson. Usually, he’d be first out of the door, eager to finish his school day but he has more pressing matters on his hand.

“Professor?” George asks tentatively after waving Fred away.

“Mr. Weasley, is everything okay?” Professor Sprout questions, eyebrows reaching her hairline in surprise at the prankster still sat in his assigned seat.

“Everything’s fine with me. I was hoping you could help my girlfriend?”

“Whatever’s the matter with Miss (Y/L/N)?”

“She’s suffering from a lot of anxiety and I think she’s having panic attacks as a result. She hasn’t come to me yet, but I was hoping you’d know of a plant or an herb that I could brew into a tea or potion to help for when she does come to me.”

Pomona Sprout blinks away the sudden wetness in her eyes. She had never seen this side of the Weasley twin, and it oddly touched her. She clears her throat before answering, “Lavender is the most helpful with issues of anxiety and panic.”

“Lavender gives her migraines I’m afraid. Is there anything else?”

Sprout purses her lips, thinking of alternatives, “Jasmine for relaxation. Peppermint boosts awareness. Chamomile helps to calm the nerves too.”

George grins; happy to have an answer, “Thank you, Professor. I’ll go find them now.”

“Don’t spend your money, Mr. Weasley. Take some from greenhouse but don’t tell anyone I helped except for Madame Pomfrey who’ll help you brew this into a tea.”

“Thank you, Professor.” George whispers; touched by the kindness lacing her words. Then and there, George resolves to take Herbology more seriously; to work on improving his grades and attendance in class.

Professor Sprout waves off his thanks as she hands him bundles of the plants, “Go on. I’ll tell Madame Pomfrey you’re on your way.”

George nods once again before leaving the greenhouses, heading straight to the hospital wing.

Madame Pomfrey already has her cauldron heating up when George arrives at the hospital wing.

“Pass me your ingredients here, Mr Weasley, and I’ll show you what you need to do.”

George hands over his bundle of plants and herbs; eager to know how to help you manage your anxiety.

Madame Pomfrey, for the next hour or so, goes over the method with George meticulously, ensuring that he won’t make any mistakes should he need to create this brew on his own. She highlights how long it needs to steep and the right amounts to add so the brew isn’t too overwhelming.

“How often would you say it needs to be drunk for it to be effective?” George asks as Madame Pomfrey starts to ladle the mixture into a container for George to take with him.

“One cup, every morning, Mr. Weasley. For it to be effective. It’ll stay warm until morning in the container I’ve given you, but if you have any troubles with it, come see me.”

George nods, taking the container from Madame Pomfrey. He thanks her repeatedly before rushing out of the hospital wing, eager to get the tea safely to his room where he can keep it safe until morning.

He lets himself give in to the growing excitement coursing its way through his body; he truly feels as if he has found one way to help you with the anxiety that paralyses you so often.

Upon his arrival at the common room, he rushes to his room where he stores the tea in an empty drawer of his bedside cabinet. He bounds back to the common room where he finds you sat at a corner table, working on another essay set by Umbridge; he knows exactly which one – the theory behind the practicality of the stunning charm. He won’t write it in protest of her abysmal teaching methods – final grades be damned.

He takes the seat across from you, “Love? How are you?”

You smile at him tiredly, “I’m tired and hating Umbridge.”

“How much sleep are you getting?” George asks; a concerned lilt to his voice.

“Enough,” You comment lightly, turning your attention back to your essay.

George sighs at your evasion, but the last thing he wants to do is push you into saying something you aren’t ready to say yet.

He leans back into his chair; watching your work silently for a while.

He leans back into his chair, and he hopes and hopes that the freshly brewed tea now hidden away his bedside cabinet helps you step away from the edge you’re teetering so precariously on.

-----

Even in sleep, the panic finds you.

It has you sitting up in bed, gasping for breath after breath; trying to leech enough oxygen out of the air to be able to properly inflate your lungs, but not enough is coming in and you’re panicking more. The tell-tale sign of tears dampens your cheeks and the sobs only add to not being able to breathe.

You throw your quilt from your body; not caring if it slides off the other side of the bed. You push your feet into your slippers; rushing out of your room without a second thought.

You climb the flight of stairs to the boy’s dormitory; your tears coming faster and faster with each step. The headache you would have in the morning was something to worry about then, but already, you didn’t look forward to it.

The door to the boy’s dormitory, thankfully, opens quietly as you tiptoe into the room. The only sounds being the echoing of snores from Fred and Lee Jordan.

You find George’s bed easily; having slept in here so many times before. You smile a watery smile as you gaze down at the sleeping teenager; he’s kicked off the covers and lies with an arm covering his eyes as his mouth hangs open. It’s not the least bit attractive, but all the same, you find your heart racing at the sight of him.

You kick off your slippers before padding to the small gap of mattress available.

George startles awake at the change of pressure; blinking bleary eyed as he looks for the culprit of change. He relaxes a little when he sees you but is immediately worried by the sight of your tears.

“Love?” is all it takes for them to start anew.

You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs in order to not wake any of others in his dorm. George frowns, pulling you into his lap, wrapping one arm tightly around your waist as the other runs through your hair. He rocks you gently back and forth; all the while hushing you quietly, whispering words of calm and reason into your ear.

Your sobs turn to sniffles, and you slowly start to feel your eyes get heavier and heavier, but you force them open out of the fear of experiencing another nightmare.

“Do you want to try and sleep?” George mumbles into the dark.

You shake your head. “Nightmare?” He asks.

You nod your head.

“Alright, we’re going to need to move, love.”

George pats your hip, getting you to shift further down the bed so he can grab his dressing gown and a hoodie for you to put on over your pyjamas.

Your slippers make their way back onto your feet as you shove your arms through George’s hoodie, pushing the sleeves up some so it fits comfortably.

You wait by the door as George grabs a container of some sort from his bedside cabinet then he reaches for your hand and leads you down to the common room.

The fire still roars as you take a seat on the couch in front of it. Your tears have dried now, and you scrub at your face with the sleeve of George’s hoodie to remove their stain from your cheeks.

George sets the container down on the small table before sitting down next to you; his arms already open for you to crawl into. His fingers doodle a calming pattern through the material of his hoodie and your breathing relaxes into a more acceptable rate. He presses kiss after kiss to your hair and for a while, he’s silent on the whole matter.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” You whisper.

“Are you ready to talk to me now?”

You nod, “It’s all been piling up on me, George and I thought I could cope but I can’t. Exams, Umbridge and the Dark Lord – I don’t think I’ve had a full night sleep since term started. And on top of that, I feel so awful with how I’ve been treating you; I am so sorry, George.”

George hushes you as you start to ramble faster, “Love… Love, calm down. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, George.”

“I accept your apology. I’ve been so worried; I didn’t think you wanted to come and talk to me.”

Your eyes widen, “No! I did! I did want to tell you, but I was so scared of what you’d think.”

“Love, anxiety and panic attacks are not something I’m unfamiliar with. Ginny suffered with both after what happened in her First year.”

You nod your head as you think back to the small girl now in her Fourth Year. You hadn’t started dating George yet, but the feelings were there. It was the disappearance of his youngest and only sister that had you talking to him for the first time; offering him any words of comfort that you could think of.

“I should have known, but I didn’t think.”

“That’s okay, love. The fact that you came to me now means everything.”

You nod your head, smiling apologetically at the red-haired teenager that you fell in love with at the age of fifteen.

Curiosity being your besetting sin though, you can no longer ignore the container sitting on the table, “George, babe, what’s in the container?”

“Oh!” George yells, only just remembering that it’s there. Then he blushes deeply, “It’s something I had made for you.”

“What?” You gasp.

George manoeuvres himself out of your grip; reaching for the container. He opens the latches, happy to see the steam rising from the tea. The smell of the chamomile calms his racing heart, and he turns to you with a shy smile – two cups already poured.

“George?”

“So after you left Herbology, I spoke to Professor Sprout. I asked her for her advice on some plants or herbs that can help with anxiety.”

Tears spring to your eyes, “You didn’t?”

“I did,” He nods, “She suggested Lavender at first, but I know how it gives you migraines just from being in its vicinity, so I asked her for some alternatives. Chamomile, peppermint and jasmine. Then I went to Madame Pomfrey who showed me how to brew this tea to help with your anxiety. She said to drink a cup a day and see how it helps.”

“Oh George,” You hiccup; tears falling fresh down your face, “This is everything. Thank you, my love.”

You lean forward to catch George’s lips in a long kiss. Tears mix with the laughter coming from your mouth. George can barely kiss you for the smile on your mouth; instead, kissing your teeth.

George pulls away with a laugh, handing you a cup of the tea. Immediately, you blow on the hot liquid before taking a small sip. The tea warms your body and you settle back into the couch; George settling with you.

The scent of the chamomile has you feeling more relaxed, and just having the comfort of a warm drink in your hand, helps make you feel better.

As your grandmother would always say: everything can be solved over a cup of tea.

“What do you think?” George asks somewhat shyly.

“George, I think this is the best gift someone has ever given me.”

“Really?”

“Really,” You affirm, “You saw me struggling and instead of pushing me, you went out of your way to help find a solution for when things become too much. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“I have an idea,” George comments lightly.

“Oh?”

“Let me know when you start to feel this low again? Or if you think you’re going to? I know how to make this tea now, and I’m sure mum wouldn’t mind growing these in her garden especially if I tell her what they’re for. She’ll be happy to help in any way she can-”

You break off George’s nervous rambling with a kiss, “What did I do to deserve you?”

He kisses you again, “Nothing, my love. You were yourself.”

“I promise though. To let you know.”

“Thank you,” He whispers.

Silence falls over the both of you; settling happily as you drink your tea, already feeling the calming effects.

With the heat of the fire and the feel of George’s chest pressed into your back from where he’s relaxed back to where he sat, your eyes start to droop once more.

No longer afraid of the nightmares that could come; no longer afraid to face the panic now that George has helped and will continue to help, you let your eyes slide shut.

The morning after brings with it sleepy smiles and a calm atmosphere. You kiss George good morning before stealing away back to your own dorm where you can get ready for the day.

On your way to the Great Hall for breakfast, you find George leaning on the wall opposite the entrance, waiting for you.

“How are you feeling?” George greets.

“Better,” You admit with a smile, “I’m glad we talked last night.”

“I am too.”

You nudge his side with your elbow, smiling happily for the first time in days, “Come on, Weasley. You can treat me to breakfast.”

“Love, nothing would make me happier.”

************

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton

George Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

#george weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fluff #george x reader #george weasley x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #george weasley reader insert #reader insert #x reader #comfort fic #harry potter imagines #my writing

802 notes · View notes

secret-engima · 4 years

Note

Just had a thought, for the LC Chase, what if, just for the Drama, something happens, idk what but the Chasers manage to track down Ardyn just before, like a massive daemon attack or something. Nox runs in to help, Ardyn runs after him, and in the resulting confusion, the front of Ardyn's shirt gets torn (the Hat is safe) and the Chasers can /see/ the scars and the brand. Just seeing that must be like a punch in the gut. And then having to tell Regis about it, too? Ooh, I have shivers.

Nooooo this is my lighthearted AU of an AU....

BUT HYPOTHETICALLY:

-It’s a normal day and a perfect escape until- well it isn’t. Well, for Ardyn and Nox it would be, except they aren’t too far down the road when they feel magic spike in combat, look up at the dark sky and realize that Cor and the Chasers have been caught out at night OUTSIDE A HAVEN. Ardyn and Nox can get away with that since they’re- well- ARDYN AND NOX but the team chasing them are just- mortals. Not LCs with 2k years of magic apiece to back them up and make daemons think twice before fighting them.

-They run back toward where they lost saw the Chasers, the ruins of an Imperial base that Ardyn and Nox had blown up earlier that day.

-They arrive in the middle of utter chaos. The daemon pack had formed right in the middle of the group, and Cor’s quick thinking has managed to keep everyone alive for now ... it won’t be for much longer. Not with this many daemons and how they’re already on the back foot.

-Nox charges in with a surge of magic that knocks some of the lesser daemons right off their feet even before he warps into the chaos and Ardyn curses as he chases after his nephew because this was NOT the plan, Nox wasn’t supposed to be revealed to the Chasers!

-It’s an Ostium tracker who spots them first in the confusion, even though everyone can FEEL the twin massive oceans of magic unfurling around them. The Ostium gapes as he glimpses Nox, long hair and pale skin and red eyes reflecting the light of the fire bombs he’s massacring, then Nox warps away to somewhere else in the fray and the Ostium loses track of him.

-It’s Cor who spots Ardyn.

-Because it’s Ardyn who saves Cor’s life.

-It’s dark, the lighting is iffy with only their jacket-clipped flashlights and the bombs winking into and out of existence, and Cor is Distracted™ with keeping his group alive, shouting orders, keeping track o the Ostium trackers who DO know how to fight, but don’t have magic like the Glaives or Guards and are at even more of a disadvantage. It just a simple mistake, a single, split second slip up where he diverts too much attention toward the nearest trackers and not enough toward his front.

-The goblin near Cor’s feet and the Ronin lurking in the shadows outside the main conflict strike in that instant.

-Cor registers the flare of purple light and already knows even as he raises his guard and turns that he’ll be too late, the attack is going to catch him right on the ribs-.

-By the time he turns around, Ardyn is already there, red magic crystals flaring around him.

-Ardyn, being Ardyn, being USED to tanking damage without being able to die, chooses to use his sword to cut off the goblin’s head rather than block the Ronin’s strike. Fabric tears and blood flies, an instant too late, lightning springs from Ardyn’s fingertips to send the Ronin flying.

-Ardyn turns as Cor steps closer, a shout of alarm on Cor’s lips because he KNOWS that hit landed, knows just how devastating Ronin can be-.

-The Mystery LC turns and Cor’s jacket flashlight illuminates the sight of Ardyn’s torso stitching itself rapidly back together from the diagonal strike, another death scar added to the ones already littering his exposed waist and chest.

-And- like a beacon, especially in the darkness of night, the brand draws Cor’s eye and knocked the wind out of him. Cor can only stare at the brand, barely registering anything else about Ardyn’s appearance (though he DOES, later, when looking back on the memory) beyond so-many-scars-so-MANYSCARSANDTHATBRAND-.

-A moment later, Nox registers Ardyn has taken a hit and loses his temper. The magic shockwave that follows basically annihilates what few daemons remain and drive the Chasers all to their knees, the wind knocked out of them beneath the towering RAGE of this second LC they just discovered is a Thing.

-Nox comes out of a warp at Ardyn’s side, his back to Cor, his shoulders tense and magic snapping around him like blue lightning and crystals. Ardyn looks away from Cor and smiles at his nephew, touching Nox’s head before they warp away into the night before Cor can recover his breath.

-Cor and the Chasers return to Insomnia to report to Regis that 1. there is a SECOND LC they’ve been chasing all this time (black hair, the Ostium who got the best look at Nox reports, pale skin, blood red eyes, YOUNG, maybe 14-15 at best) and 2. ... the scars. The BRAND.

-Regis listens to the reports in a Horror™. Suddenly understanding all too well the passive aggression that has been in the notes, the refusal to be caught or named. The elusiveness.

-Astrals. Astrals not just a brother but a ... a nephew perhaps? Born of the sibling clearly TORTURED by Mors? Or ... considering Cor was so certain that the man had red hair ... could the teenager be...

-Regis’s?

-Regis can’t breathe just thinking about it. About HOW his wayward brother would have found any unknown son of Regis’s. About the possibility that the boy is several years older than he looks but his growth was STUNTED because- because-

-Oh Astrals what if his father had found BOTH OF THEM.

-True, the option that the younger LC is Regis’s nephew is far more likely but- BUT. The thin chance that has entered his mind now haunts him and nothing Clarus says can shake it loose.

#SE asks #spideypoolalways asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse #the Great LC Chase verse

100 notes · View notes

redassassin · 4 years

Text

i thought you were dead

word count: 1822 this is an old ask from a while ago, but i lost all the actual asks when i deleted my account! the prompt was “i thought you were dead.”

Everything changed after the Supernova. Relationships, politics, leadership, society. The Renegades were still in action and had expanded greatly with the sudden increase in powers. The city was built up from the ruins of the battle, and life changed with it. People switched jobs, their powers granting them advantages in certain fields. Some joined the Renegades, excited to put their new powers to use. Others left the Renegades, eager to pursue a more normal life after years in their workforce.

Crime rose alongside the Renegades. Prodigy criminals were more dangerous and more powerful. Many people who had scorned the Renegades and prodigies, feared them, were found bitter and angry to suddenly become the thing they hated.

Sketch’s team remained in the Renegades, determined to help the organization as it changed with time. They all became figureheads for the Renegades organization, working closely with what remained of the Council to improve the lives of every citizen of Gatlon and assist in their transition to the life of a prodigy.

While Nova could admit that she liked Adrian, her life was too chaotic to remain anything but good friends with him. She often caught herself stealing small glances at him, glaring at other girls that would flirt with him when their team went out, or reliving every single one of their kisses when she lay on rooftops in the early hours of the morning, watching the stars. But they were friends, and Nova didn’t want to risk that just because she couldn’t get her own feelings under control. They were all too unstable to pursue proper relationships. The Supernova and all the events leading up to it had taken too much a toll on all of them.

________________________________________________________________________________

Even though patrol was exhausting and dangerous, it was Nova’s favorite part of the day. It gave her a strange sense of normalcy to be back on patrols, just like everything was before the Supernova. Although, now that she wasn’t worried that her identity would be revealed with one tiny slip, she was actually enjoying being a Renegade, especially now that the Council listened to her. Not only did they pay more attention to her ideas, but they took suggestions from the general public on how to help with the transition, on how to make their daily lives safer, and even on the fates of some of the Anarchists and former villains from the Age of Anarchy. Of course, the final decision was still up to the Council, but the people liked to be heard.

Sketch’s team was chasing Shockwave, a prodigy criminal that was a strange cross between the Detonator and the Sentinel. When he snapped, a ball of energy formed in his hand, either stunning anyone unfortunate enough to come across him, or sending walls toppling upon contact. Shockwave sent a volley of tiny energy spheres back at them as Nova and Adrian chased him down main street, and away from the drugstore he’d just robbed. Nova pulled ahead of Adrian, determined to reach him and send her power through the exposed skin at the back of his neck. But the villain sped up, smirking triumphantly back at her as another energy sphere was sent hurtling towards her. Nova dodged it, before realising that he hadn’t been aiming at her, but at the wall a couple of feet to her right. The ball hit the wall, and it began to crumble, threatening to topple on to Adrian, who had been a few yards behind her.

“Adrian!” Nova screamed in horror, as he stopped in confusion, before turning his head up towards the sound of cracking stone. She began to run for him, but it was too late. Adrian, frozen in shock and fascination, disappeared beneath the fallen building.

Nova let out a scream of desperation so shrill that even Danna flinched from her position at the end of the block, having just emerged from her swarm of monarchs.

“Insomnia? What happened? Where’s Adrian?”

Nova didn’t answer, sprinting to the collapsed wall and picking through the rubble for any sign of Adrian. She can’t lose anyone else. Especially not Adrian. Anybody but Adrian. She flinched at the implications of her thoughts, that Adrian’s life was worth more than someone else’s.

It was to her. She can’t lose Adrian. A life without Adrian—she can’t imagine it.

She paused. Waiting for her thoughts to catch up to her, trying to process the fear and hope and utter terror coursing through her veins.

Nova was in love with Adrian. Completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with him. And she refused to believe that he was gone. She continued to tear through the wreckage, tossing aside what she could lift, nudging the larger pieces as far as she could. Danna appeared beside her, silently helping her lift away one of the stones. Nova gasped as her hand brushed against something wet and sticky. Blood. Her heart clenched as the image of Adrian lying under the rubble, bleeding, dying. Dead? She pulled one more stone away, and gasped as her eyes found the red and grey material of Adrian’s uniform. Danna was by her side in an instant, helping her pull Adrian out of the ruins. Danna raised her wristband to her mouth, requesting medical assistance and updating the rest of their team on Shockwave and Adrian, ordering Ruby and Oscar to continue the search. Danna rested a hand on her shoulder whispering words of reassurance, ensuring her that Adrian would be okay, but Nova hardly registered them.

Nova sat beside Adrian, cradling his head in her lap. He was unconscious, but breathing steadily. His face was covered in tiny scratches and bruises, his hair covered in a fine layer of dust. The blood had come from a gash on his leg, still bleeding profusely. Nova cut a strip of fabric from the leg of her uniform, wrapping it shakily around the wound. She didn’t even realise she had been crying until she noticed the spots from her fallen tears. Wiping her eyes, Nova examined Adrian’s face. He looked calm. She would have thought that he was sleeping if not for the current situation. Hesitantly, she rested her hand on his shoulder, tapping him gently. When he didn’t wake, she shook him, harder than she had meant to, but Adrian groaned as his eyes flickered open.

“Nova?” Adrian croaked, his voice rough from the dust he inhaled. He coughed, and the sound sent such a flood of relief through her that a small sob burst from her mouth. She buried her face in his chest, clutching at the material of his uniform.

“Nova, are you okay? What’s wrong, are you hurt?” Adrian began to sit up, shifting them so that she was cradled against his chest.

Something inside Nova broke. “I thought you were dead.” She whispered, her sobs dying out. Adrian’s hand found its way into her hair, running his fingers through it as his other hand rubbed her back.

“I’m fine, Nova. We’re superheroes. We all get hurt sometimes.”

“If you say it’s in our job description to worry people sometimes I am going to punch you.”

Adrian laughed quietly, and the sound sent a rush of relief coursing through Nova’s veins. Adrian was okay.

“I’d probably deserve it.”

Nova hadn’t felt that helpless since Adrian had cared for her after Honey’s bees and wasps had attacked her. In the moments after, when Adrian had carefully bandaged every sting, she had realised that they might be okay. And when he confirmed that he still cared for her, she knew, that if they lived through the rest of the battle, they would. But everything had fallen apart after the Supernova. Nova wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but she regretted it. She wanted him back. A couple of times she thought that she may have caught Adrian watching her with the same wistful expression that she recognized from her own face, but always passed it off as wishful thinking.

“Nova?” She turned her head, looking up to face him, and the kindness and worry and caring in his eyes melted her heart. She wanted to kiss him. But, she had been the one to break up their relationship all those weeks ago, and she knew that it had been hard on him.

But before she could weigh the pros and cons of her decision and determine how much Adrian might hate her if she did, he was leaning down, his soft lips brushing against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned into him, her arms winding around his neck.

Nova shifted in his arms a little bit, deepening the kiss, and Adrian hissed as she elbowed one of his bruises. The situation was so familiar that Nova almost laughed, but instead she pulled away from Adrian, asking if he was okay. Before the words could come out of her mouth, Adrian cupped her cheek and pulled her mouth back to his.

Adrian broke away after a few minutes, his eyes shining.

“Promise you won’t put me to sleep this time?” Nova gaped at him, landing a light shove on his shoulder.

“You promised you wouldn’t bring that up. I didn’t want to stop that kiss and you know it, there’s no reason to keep bringing it up.”

Adrian kissed her cheek, his eyes full of laughter. “I need some way to blackmail you, you’re already better than me at so many things. I need ways to distract you.”

Nova considered what he’d just said. “Well, you can always use the time I tried to assassinate your dad and take down the Renegades.” Her tone was joking, but her eyes betrayed her.

“The Council also tried to execute you just for the purpose of pleasing Genissa. I think you’re even.”

Nova opened her mouth to apologize, something she found herself doing whenever someone mentioned her past.

“Don’t apologize, Nova. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, and you’re no different.” He laced his fingers through hers and brought her hand up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. The touch felt so intimate that Nova felt her face flush down to her neck.

“I love you.” Adrian started, his eyes snapping to her. It took Nova a second to realise that the words had come out of her own mouth. She shrank away from Adrian, the surprise on his face eating away at her soul.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, it just slipped out,” Nova began to slide out of his grasp, moving to sit beside him. “You don’t have to say anything. The medics should be here soon. I’m going to go watch for them.” She stood up, turning away from him, her face burning.

“Nova?” She tensed preparing for the rejection that was sure to follow. Just because he kissed me doesn’t mean he loves me again.

“I love you too.”

tag list: (this is my old tag list lmk if you want to be put on or taken off!) tag list:@obssesedwithliterallyeverything @red-eyes88 @onecannotbebrave @renegadesmarissameyer @somanyfandomsonly1username @everhartartino

#renegades #nova artino #marswriting #adrian everhart #danna bell #ruby tucker #oscar silva #nodrian #archenemies #supernova #post supernova

37 notes · View notes

saga-chan · 3 years

Photo

It is but a mere quarter past midnight, and the cobblestoned streets have already been lulled to sleep by the sound of silence several hours ago. The eerie darkness is cloaked in a heavy cloud of thick fog. If not for the dim street lights, one would be as good as blind. A sudden splash echoes throughout the emptiness as a pair of running, worn out shoes find an ice cold puddle. The owner of these shoes happens to be a slender, pusillanimous man with obvious bags under his eyes, suggesting days of insomnia. In his hands, he carries a black instrument case. “Oh, Mr. Houghton, must we do this the hard way? Why not settle the matter as proper adults?” Somewhere within the fog, a deep, disembodied voice resonates the moment the man stalls to catch his laboured breath. And yet, though the voice holds a formal fruitiness in its inflection, there is something strangely... odd about it as well. Something menacing. “I swear— I didn’t do it! I— I didn’t steal anything!” With trembling lips, Mr. Houghton hugs the case tightly as if it contains his life. The piercing sound of clacking boots sends a shockwave down his spine. Fear forces him to blurt out another shaky wave of rapid phrases: “I swear! This is all I have! M-my violin! It’s what provides bread on our table—“ “Tsk, tsk, and you stole it.” “I didn’t!” “So incredibly intractable. It is quite valorous of you to lie to the authorities like this... Very well, if you refuse to cooperate, it can’t be helped. Now then...” A fizzling sound of something electric is awoken. “No!” The fog casts itself aside to reveal his pursuer who’s launched himself towards his exposed back with the speed of a lightning bolt. When he turns around, the violinist is met with a crooked, disturbing smirk, a pair of widely opened eyes, wielding terrifyingly amounts of sheer madness through shrunken pupils, and a raised hand engulfed in blue— whatever the heck that substance is! No matter how hard he tries to move, his feet are locked in place. His mind registers the last words he hears: “Are you done running?” ⚠️Please don’t copy, steal or post my art w/o my permission!⚠️ #instagood #photooftheday #art #artwork #follow #followme #instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/CHbliMKhzBC/?igshid=1cd69p18776d7

#instagood #photooftheday #art #artwork #follow #followme #instagram

1 note · View note

ratchetsboyfriend · 5 years

Note

Thank you sm for the clarification haha — my apologies for the little misunderstanding! Can I request TFP Shockwave and Soundwave’s reaction to their human S/O dealing with insomnia and nightly hallucinations/sleep-related stress or anxiety? Hope this is alright! :)

Shockwave

Humans require a set amount of rest in order to function so for you to be unable to do so means that you are running at less than optimal levels. Shockwave would not say that he’s worried but he still devotes some of his time to researching potential remedies. His help also comes in the form of informing you that your reactions to the anxiety and hallucinations are illogical, though whether or not that’s actually helpful is another question. He has neither the time nor the inclination to cuddle but can be persuaded to recharge with you as it would only make sense for him to rest as well and potentially help you sleep with his presence.

Soundwave

Soundwave gives off the impression that he doesn’t refuel, recharge, or do anything outside of his duties, but that’s far from the truth and if he needs rest then you need it even more. He doesn’t speak but he’ll play clips of soothing music or sounds in an attempt to calm you down and lull you back to sleep. He’s also very tactile when you two are alone so he holds you tightly and runs his servos down your back and through your hair in another attempt to help you relax enough to get a peaceful night’s sleep. He does a thorough search for other solutions and tries each of them at least once to see what does and doesn’t help.

#soundwave #shockwave #transformers #tfp #transformers x reader #transformers imagines #transformers reader insert #my writing

133 notes · View notes

unitshow05 · 2 years

Text

Learn the way I Cured My Massage In 2 Days

#massage #health #well-beng #beauty #spa #aroma #healing #life #theraphy

1 note · View note

anonthenullifier · 5 years

Text

Of Cephalopods and Pistol Shrimp

Summary: Vision helps Wanda figure out a new way to harness her powers by using techniques from the ocean.

AO3 link

Based on a fic suggestion from @thissweetmoment about how Wanda goes from her looser powers in Age of Ultron to the tight, electric spheres in Civil War. Sorry this took me so damn long to actually write. I hope you enjoy!

I hope everyone else enjoys this as well!

Existence is a fascinating ordeal. Technically the number of experiences and sensations are finite, yet each day Vision encounters something new. Sometimes it is a smell, such as Rhodes’ burnt toast or the antiseptic, lemony sting of the new cleaning solution the custodial staff recently switched to. Other days it is a sound, like the way pages whisper when Sam falls asleep on the couch, his magazine tumbling to the floor or the authoritative click of Natasha’s shoes. Tactile sensations are amongst his favorite, entire nights spent running the pads of his fingers over the bumps in the imperfect paint on his bedroom wall, dipping into the crevices of the grains in the kitchen table, analyzing the difference between the tiles of the backsplash and the grout, or relishing the effervescent embrace when he flies into the clouds. Taste is a curiosity but not enough to waste food. Even when he experiences the same stimuli numerous times, it is somehow never the same and that is what makes it so enthralling.

His eyes do not waver from the reinforced plexiglass in front of him, arms crossed over his chest in mimicry of Sam and Steve’s shared stance (apparently, this is a sign of contemplation), as they complete the latest test devised by Stark to map the abilities of the new Avengers. They all watch as Wanda sends furious and untamed tendrils out, the scarlet matter beginning as a cohesive unit before spasming into myriad uneven pathways. It’s reminiscent of a documentary he watched the other night on cephalopods, the red clouds surrounding Wanda shimmering and undulating much like the frenzied dance of the ink as the animal fled danger. The tactic is mesmerizing, always new, the patterns sporadic and unique, much like snowflakes, yet just as with snowflakes, it is only effective in large quantities, which tires Wanda out.

“She’s terrifying.”

Steve grunts noncommittally at Sam’s awed comment and Vision finds himself confused at the terminology. Terror is what horror movies are meant to evoke, the white knuckles of Wanda’s hand as she absentmindedly grips his bicep during a team movie night, or the wide-eyed, shaking stance of a small child they find in amongst the ruins on a mission. There is nothing about this display that elicits said reaction. Perhaps their adversaries would feel some terror from this, but teammates should not. “I think it is calming.”

The two men turn and stare at him, the same furrowed brows and slight side-eye occurs now that happens any time Vision attempts to make an observation counter to what has been stated. “It’s something, for sure.” Steve remains neutral, unaffected by the training as he clicks the intercom switch, “I think we’re good for now, Wanda.”

Wanda throws a tired thumbs up in their direction and exits out the side door, arriving in the communication center minutes later, her breath light and rapid, muscles shaking slightly as she huddles in close to watch the tape of her performance. It is impolite to stare, or so he has been informed, and yet Vision cannot stop himself from watching Wanda watch her own tape, curious to see if there are any signs of terror in her stance. “It seems a bit sloppy.” Her comment is factual but tinged with a negative emotion that is not terror, per se, perhaps more like the time Wanda stepped in the aftermath of a food fight that happened at the team’s fourth of July barbecue. Disgust, yes, that’s it, not terror.

“It could be tightened up,” Steve agrees with her observation, though he does not seem upset, “we really need to find a way to channel it all into, I don’t know,” a wary hand rubs the back of Steve’s neck, his day longer than their own, having to watch and critique each teammate, “concentrate it somehow.”

Wanda nods, forehead wrinkling at the comment while her lips purse in concentration, “Do you have any recommendations?”

A sigh answers her, the same one Steve used when Vision asked him if there were any known exercises to help him with his phasing. “I need to think on it for a bit.”

“Okay.”

“Sam,” the conversation moves on as Steve turns to the last of the team to go into the simulator, “you’re up.”

Sam grins, snapping on his goggles with an, “Alright!”

Her session done, Wanda leaves the room and Vision waits exactly five minutes before excusing himself for the evening.

It’s while he’s watching another ocean documentary that Vision realizes he may be able to help Wanda. Unfortunately, this occurs at 4:15am and for once, no one else in the compound seems to have insomnia. To pass the time, he sets himself up in the common room lounge and drafts plans for different exercises, tests some of them himself with the Mindstone, though he recognizes the confound in his attempts to extrapolate his own power set to hers. It’s at 5:30am when Steve and Sam come in with a friendly, “Morning, Vision.”

“Good morning, Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson.”

Sam always gets this smirk when Vision addresses him, a small shake of his head and sometimes a roll of his eyes. “Dude, just Steve and Sam.”

This has been told to him before, yet it seems very impersonal given their longer duration in heroics. “My apologies.”

“We’re going out for a run, wanna join?”

Usually Vision is not in the common room at this time, mainly for this reason. He is aware the offer is out of politeness when it comes from Sam (it is a command when it is from Steve), which means he can technically say no, though his stomach always seems to rotate uncomfortably when he turns them down. But he doesn’t want to get distracted and miss out on Wanda. He also, if he is being honest, is not particularly fond of running, flight a far more invigorating experience. “No thank you, I am attempting to draw up potential exercises for Miss M- for Wanda to better examine her powers.”

Steve nods in approval, “Good, I think that’s a great idea, you two can probably learn a lot from each other.”

“Yes,” Vision’s stomach evens out, no longer churning at dismissing their request, “I do believe that is true.”

“Alright, well, have fun.” Sam winks at him, taking a bite of his granola bar as he and Steve leave the common space.

It’s approximately forty-three minutes later that Wanda enters, her hair thrown up in a ponytail and still adorning her pajamas with a baggy sweatshirt. She shuffles towards the kitchen, her eyes leaving the ground once to make sure she is heading in the right direction. “Good morning, Wanda.” He seems to surprise her, her hands clutching the sweatshirt tighter as her face swings in the direction of his voice.

It takes several agonizing seconds for her to respond with an un-emotive, “Morning.”

“Did you sleep well?”

Wanda shrugs and it conveys more than enough information, her sleep patterns erratic and unhealthy, though they are getting better. This seems to end their conversation, her feet taking her closer to the kitchen. Vision stands, fingers twisted as he considers his next step, but now that he’s standing, it would be awkward to sit back down, he thinks, so he phases through the couch and follows her to the kitchen, coming to stand next to the stools at the island while she busies herself making her tea. “I had an idea last night,” Wanda turns towards him, face expectant, “I, um, well I believe I had an epiphany on how best to harness your powers,” her stare doesn’t change, despite the fact he feels like it should be blossoming with the excitement, just as his did when he had the revelation, “the way Captain Rogers suggested, by concentrating it.”

Her response is slow, the two-syllable, “Okay,” lasting long enough that it feels like eight.

“I was watching a very fascinating documentary last night about cavitation and pistol shrimp—”

“Am I going to need some coffee for this?”

Vision pauses, taken aback by the change in her preference and why she is inquiring of him, “I believe you should drink whatever sounds most appealing to you.”

This garners a laugh, though he isn’t sure why, but it is a pleasant experience, his own mouth lifting in response to her apparent joy at his comment. “You’re going to have simplify this for me.”

Which is fair. “Cavitation is a phenomenon in which cavities are formed due to rapid changes in pressure and this change in pressure, if it becomes too great, the cavity can collapse into a shockwave.”

“More simple.”

Vision follows her as she fills her cup with tea, drizzling honey in while she stirs and then tossing in a pinch of sugar for good measure. No one else on the team ever attempts to understand him this way, to demand he work on his communication, and so he is never offended when she asks him to rephrase or simplify. “When you use your powers now, they are free-flowing, like,” the simile of his revelation may be apt to use now, “a cephalopod…” Wanda glances up at him as she blows gently on the tea, and wordlessly she informs him to keep simplifying, “a squid or an octopus, when it is alarmed, it sends out ink into the water. This method is particularly useful for obfuscating,” another glance and he runs through a thesaurus online, “confusing people, a distraction–”

A shimmering cloud engulfs her hand, wispy and tumultuous with the rotation of her wrist, “Are you forgetting how my squid powers took you down in training last week.”

“I am not, it was an impressive display of power,” she glances down at her tea though it is not enough to fully mask the upward curve of her mouth, “but you would have been victorious even faster had you acted more like a pistol shrimp.”

“Which would be?”

“Oh, um,” this speech went smoother when he rehearsed it earlier in the morning, though his conversational skills are always more confident when he is alone and practicing than when her green eyes are locking onto him, flecked with an amusement that sends electric shocks down his spine, “to gather your powers into a bundle of unequal pressure and then let it loose.” If the quirk of her eyebrow is any indication, this is still not as illuminating as he hoped. “I can show you a video?”

Wanda waves her hand at the tablet on the counter and she takes the seat next to his as he searches for a good example. Together they watch a five minute clip of a pistol shrimp, first at actual speed which makes it look like the shrimp is punching the air, but then the scientists present a slowed down version and together they watch as a small air bubble forms in the middle of the open pincher. “This is pretty cool.”

A warmth, similar to his first time winning one of the training challenges, circles his chest, “It is.”

Suddenly the shrimp closes its pincher and the bubble collapses, sending a shockwave through the water, stirring the rocks at the bottom of the tank and immobilizing the smaller crustacean in the tank. When the video ends, Wanda lifts her hand, powers collapsing from their usual tempest into a centralizing orb. “So, you’re saying something like this could be more effective?”

“Assuming your powers can be driven by cavitation, yes, with enough pressure you may be able to more efficiently remove threats.”

She studies the orb undulating in her palm, head cocked to the side, allowing the red to reflect off her eyes, and Vision is briefly mesmerized by it, until she extinguishes the orb, jolting him back to the present. “Worth a shot. I assume you already have exercises planned?”

Others on the team have said similar statements, theirs laced with exhaustion and aggravation, at times, Wanda’s is neither of those, the corners of her eyes pinching as the right side of her mouth tips up. “I do, yes. Shall we reconvene in the training gym in approximately fifteen minutes?”

“Sounds good.”

When they meet again, he has restructured his molecules into his uniform, feeling like his new staple of slacks and a sweater do not belong in such a space. Wanda is not in her uniform, but is wearing the same outfit she dons when Steve forces her on the morning run three days a week. “Okay,” Wanda’s tightens her ponytail as she talks, “so how are we doing this?”

“I believe we should start simple, so I have set up a number of targets ranging in weight and size,” he directs her towards a table containing several sizes of soup cans, dumbbells, and kettlebells. “I have downloaded a relatively novel program that will allow me to analyze both the broadband noise and subharmonics created before you unleash your powers.”

Wanda’s lips tighten in time with her hesitant nod, “I’m guessing that’s how you tell the, um, power of the attack?”

It is close to what he is doing, if she replaces power with pressure. “Precisely.” A broad, toothy smile parts her lips and he mimics it, always enjoying these small moments of glee she shares with him. “Would you like to try?”

“Yep.” Wanda spreads her feet out so her stance is a touch wider than her shoulders, her right foot approximately an inch closer to the display than her left. Slowly her powers pool around her hand and even more slowly she draws them together into an orb. He expects her to release it, but she doesn’t, instead her fingers continue to wave, weaving her powers into a bigger orb that spins faster and faster.

He checks the measurements streaming through his mind and frowns, the display reporting an error. It is only at the subtle dip of her hand that he figures out the problem, “Wanda wai—” she doesn’t hear him soon enough and she flicks her wrist, the orb soaring through the air and exploding upon contact with a can of tomato soup that never stood a chance. The shockwave of the hit throws the table across the gym, the viscous soup coating the floor looking more like blood than lunch and several new holes have been created in the wall from the weights. Vision rushes to Wanda’s side, “Are you okay?”

Shock pulls her jaw down, eyes wide and hands clasped into fists at her thighs. “That was fucking awesome.”

“I—” he follows her gaze to the destruction, not certain awesome is the best term, it was remarkable, for sure, but he’s going to have to explain how this happened to Natasha and Steve and Tony, a meeting he is not thrilled about. His worry is eradicated when she laughs because it’s the freest sound he’s ever heard from her, effervescent and untamed, her body shaking so much she leans against his shoulder for support. “It was amazing.”

“There’s soup everywhere!”

“Yes,” her reaction is infectious, his own lungs beginning to spasm as light huffs intersperse his response, “that was an oversight on my behalf.”

“At least it you didn't grab something like corn.”

The image of hundreds of kernels littering the ground is a much worse reality. “This is true.”

Wanda straightens her spine, removing her touch from him, and turns with a smile that might almost be described as wicked. “Can we do it again?”

A survey of the damage forces him to reassess his strategy. “Yes, though I believe we need to be more methodical.”

Together they pick up the table, Vision arranging the weights on it while Wanda uses her powers and a mop to remove the soup from the ground. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I believe we should experiment with how much pressure you build up to determine the amount needed to effectively deal with the target without destroying it.”

For the next hour they do just that, Vision reading the indices and informing Wanda when to release her orb. They start small, and work until finding the most efficient amount per each weight. Once they’ve done this, he stops informing her of when to attack, instead allowing her to determine the feel of it in her hands, since he cannot constantly assess her during a mission. It’s after she’s successfully sent the heaviest weight flying an acceptable and not destructive distance that they move on to the punching bags, which are more analogous to the foes they face. With each target she grows more confident, the power coalescing faster and faster until she can attack within seconds.

During their (well her) water break, Wanda suggests the next step, one he hadn’t yet conceptualized since he did not (foolishly, admittedly) anticipate her being so proficient after a half day. “You know, in the video we watched the prey was moving, so I don't think I'm one with the pistol shrimp yet since we've just used immobile targets....”

"Oh, well, I can find some of the mechanized bullseyes from the supply closet."

This doesn't seem to be what she had in mind, the tips of her ponytail dancing as she clarifies, "Those never move like the actual people we face on missions."

A true statement and one dripping with suggestion that is driven home by her pointed stare at him. It takes Vision 1.5 seconds longer than it should to fully grasp the implication. “Are you asking me to be your soup can?”

“Yes.” Her face grows serious other than the flicker of red in her eyes, “Vision, will you be my soup can?”

He’s not sure why the question releases a torrent of heat in his cheeks, a reaction he will need to further parse out at a later time. “I suppose since you asked so nicely, I have no reason not acquiesce.”

“Don’t worry,” she pats his arm as he walks past, an action she’s never done before, “I’ll be gentle.”

Vision has to suppress the way her actions and the glimmer in her eye make him feel unsteady, keep his voice calm and unaffected as he quips back, “I believe I am somewhat more formidable than Campbell’s.”

“We’ll see.”

He stands twenty feet from her, the optimal distance they decided on during the prior phase of her training. “I will maintain my normal density for this.” Wanda sends him a thumbs up and he activates the program, recording the accelerate spike in both the broadband noise and subharmonic index, sending her a wave when he believes it should have some effect. The orb crashes into his body, the shockwave of it bursting flutters his cape, but nothing else occurs. “Try again.” And she does, fifteen times and yet she can’t seem to send him farther than a centimeter back. “Perhaps try using both hands to form the orb?” He has no basis for the suggestion, but he hypothesizes that each of her hands serves as an independent source, using both might double the impact.

Wanda’s feet spread a bit farther apart as her arms wave through the air, the orb oscillating between her palms reaching the highest threshold of his measurement system in a matter of seconds. The power is released before he tells her, not to any detriment, the burst of scarlet against his chest sending his sympathetic system into a frenzy, his body desperate to increase its density but he resists, instead allowing her to throw him back into the wall.

“Oh shit!” Footfalls echo around the gym, the noise bouncing too fast for him to pinpoint her location until her hands wrap around his biceps, worry streaming from her fingers, “Vizh, you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Her right hand leaves his body and hovers in front of his face, fingers bending and straightening as his eyes adjust. “You are switching between two and three fingers.”

“Can’t even trick you after that.”

Vision smirks at the despondency in her response, sitting up slowly while running a quick system check. “Wanda,” she meets his eyes, “that was incredible.” The last stray wisp of concern leaves her face, replaced by a proud grin. “Shall we try it again, only I will fly this time?”

“Only if you’re okay.”

“I am fine.”

Despite his assurance, Wanda still offers her his hand, helping him stand before returning to her position in the gym. It’s at this point that Natasha comes in, a wave towards them that states she’s merely here to watch. Wanda’s fingers flex at the added attention, still overcoming her self-consciousness of being scrutinized by the former spy during training. Vision takes a moment to approach Wanda, standing far enough away to not encroach in her personal space, but close enough that she can hear his slightly lower voice. “Pay no mind to Natasha,” Wanda’s head tilts, in what may be annoyance or anger or some other emotion he has yet to determine in situations such as this, “I want you to go back to one handed throws. We want to train your accuracy first and then you can add more power.”

“Okay.”

“And Wanda.”

“Yeah?”

For some reason he is tempted to reach out to her, give her arm a comforting embrace, but he doesn’t, instead clenching his fingers into fists at his side. “Remember that no one else on the team can do what you can.”

His comment seems to latch onto the corners of her mouth, tugging it up into a brief smile. “Don’t go easy on me, okay?”

He reassures her with a heartfelt, “I will not.”

Vision lifts into the air, eyes scanning the gym for all accessible routes and protection. For the first attempts, he determines to remain relatively low to the ground, allowing her to fine tune her aim at a more accessible level before moving higher and requiring greater calculation on her behalf. He waits for her to form an orb before moving. Like with any other foe, he positions himself so that she is always in his view, even if it is just his periphery, but primarily he utilizes his proprioception to determine how to angle is body or bend his limbs to avoid her attacks. Even with her rapid-fire method, the closest she gets to a hit is a singe to his cape, her movements too predictable to him given the hours they have spent training together. Vision lands softly in front of her, assessing the stoop of her shoulders and the way her fingernails are digging into her palms, a small action he has come to associate with her frustration. “I believe we may be approaching this incorrectly.”

“How so?” The weightless ease of her voice is gone, replaced by the measured rhythm she uses during any other training, particularly after being beaten down a few rounds by Natasha.

No single animal utilizes just one attack pattern, nor do any of the Avengers, and yet that’s what they’ve been trying to do. “We have only been focusing on this one aspect of your powers, but for the task at hand, you need to utilize more than that.” Wanda waits for him to continue, arms crossing as her eyes slide to where Natasha is sitting. “You need to obfuscate first...”

Now her attention returns to him, “So squid power you?”

“I- yes, correct, distract me and then—”

Her frustrations flips into understanding, “Then I pistol shrimp you.”

"Correct.”

A shared nod cements the plan and he returns to the air, waiting, yet again, until scarlet oozes from her hands to begin flying. This time is very different, every direction he flies is teeming with scarlet clouds, each one obscuring his view and sending him into a new location, only to be met with another dense nebula. Vision decides to tempt fate by flying through one of the formations, having no other means of getting to the other side of the gym, it’s then that the cloud constricts around him, throwing off his senses long enough that he feels an impact on his side, hard enough that it stings yet soft enough that he remains steady in the air. Vision lands, hand rubbing out the branching tingle still spreading throughout his oblique. “That was much more effective.”

“It was. Mind if we try ag—”

Before she can finish, a new voice enters the gym, Steve’s authoritative, “Training starts in two minutes everyone,” setting an end to her suggestion, Wanda’s mouth closing and her shoulders shrugging, the look on her face one he thinks says Maybe later?

A week later he stands again with Steve and Sam, arms crossed and head tilted to the right, his eyes never leaving the varying patterns of scarlet through the plexiglass. This time her powers seem to dance, a careful choreography of wild undulation followed by disciplined restriction. “Holy shit,” Sam steps closer to the glass, hand rubbing his chin at the destruction being wrought within, “she’s even more terrifying now.”

Terror is still an odd descriptor, because what Vision sees before him is more beautiful than even the undisturbed dawn over the mountains, the memory of her powers erupting in tingles along his skin, a fascinating texture he now associates with power and marvel.

“What exactly did you two work on?” Steve only watched some of their additional trainings, never interceding, something he tends to do when the more fantastical powers are at play.

Vision doesn’t pull his gaze from Wanda as he answers, “Obfuscation and cavitation.”

“Not really helpful, man.” Sam, like Wanda, will always tell him if he is being too dense, though never as nicely, but never rudely either.

The other way Vision can think to explain it likely won’t help them either, but it is how Wanda describes it to him as she eats lunch after their trainings, hair dripping with sweat, hands shaking from her hard work, and her smile radiant, so he determines it cannot be worse, “She has become one with the squid and the shrimp.”

“Okay then,” Sam’s two words last for four seconds, his confusion palpable, but Vision doesn’t amend the statement, deciding to let Wanda explain it to them later, allowing Vision to become engrossed in the fascinatingly breathtaking display in front of them.

#scarlet vision #wanda maximoff #vision #the vision #thescarletvisionnetwork #mcu #pre-relationship #flirtatious training #mine

30 notes · View notes

platonicone · 5 years

Text

Devotion - Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Chapter 1 - The New Omen

Fate, some embrace it, some abhor it, yet few truly understand it. The Oracle was a prisoner of a cruel fate, yet she bore it with a smile. Destined for hardship and heartache, she carried on her journey, from Insomnia to the Disc of Cauthess, to awaken Titan. It was there where everything changed. For better or worse none of us knew.

A colossal fist slammed on the ground, hurling debris in all directions. She had successfully dodged Titan’s attack, but it was flying debris that caught her. Small shrapnel-like rocks had lodged into her forearm and temple. She hissed in pain and removed them as a small stream of blood started to flow.

Before she could do anything else, Titan slammed down his enormous fist. She raised her trident out of reflex, temporarily halting Titan’s attack. It was Titan’s sheer power versus her defiance. The crushing force with which Titan was pushing his fist down would soon overpower her. She realized it and quickly erected a magical barrier deflecting the attack and buying her a few precious seconds.

“I am not your enemy. I seek your blessings for the King of Light, so he may fulfill his destiny and banish the darkness from this world,” said Lunafreya, clutching her trident.

“The power of the gods can only be claimed by those deemed worthy. Be it the Oracle or the King, they must prove their mettle,” an ethereal voice responded.

“If, for Noctis’ sake, I am required to fight, then I will fight, even with the Gods,” she said with a firm determination in her eyes even with blood dripping down from the side of her face.

Titan roared in response and unleashed the next set of attacks. Lunafreya dodged each of his attacks. She summoned the energy around her trident and unleashed a devastating attack on Titan. Not expecting such a powerful counterattack, Titan was dazed. Taking advantage of this opening, she continued sending a volley of attacks to gain an upper hand momentarily. This only angered Titan further.

Not to be outdone by a mortal, Titan stomped the ground, sending shockwaves all around and knocking Lunafreya off her feet. She flew back a few feet and landed with a thud on uneven ground. The impact of the fall had dislodged her trident from her grip and it landed farther from her.

She tried to get up but her body had given up and refused to move.

She had endured a great deal of physical trauma in the last few days and her body couldn’t cope with it. After barely escaping from the jaws of death during the fall of the Insomnia, she had traveled to Lestallum among the refugees after overcoming great adversities. Without rest or recovery, soon she marched on to awaken Titan. Physically, her body wasn’t trained to endure such hardship. Her body had long since given up; it was only her willpower that drove her.

Titan continued to stomp in rage, hurling debris in all directions. Once again, her mind told her to get up, but her body refused to obey. She crawled towards her trident, which remained painfully out of her reach. She tried to push herself up when a huge piece of boulder flew towards her and landed on her leg. She let out a piercing scream as the weight of the rock crushed her leg. She was sure it had broken her ankle.

With her trident out of reach, her leg trapped and her body unable to move, her ability to attack or defend was nullified. She had come to awaken Titan; she had not been expecting a fight with it. It took armies to bring down an Astral. To confront Titan and survive this long was a feat any warrior would be proud of. But this was the end. She had put up a good fight. One more attack from Titan would be fatal.

“Willpower alone is not enough to overcome the impending darkness. If you can’t pass my trial, what hope do you have of succeeding against the combined might of daemons, Starscourge, and the Usurper? Mayhap you or your king are not worthy to consort with the gods,” said Titan in rage.

“Let me end your misery, the slave of fate and destiny,” said Titan. With that, Titan coiled back his fist and, with all his might, charged towards the defenseless Oracle.

She had many visions about her future, but this, a premature death without fulfilling her calling, was not one of them. Her mind ran through all the possible scenarios and concluded there was no escaping this situation. She closed her eyes and thought of one person she loved the most: Noctis.

'No! This is not how it is supposed to end. My calling is to awaken all Astrals for Noctis. I cannot die here.’ Her mind tried to defy the odds. But looking at the reality of the situation, she couldn’t help but think, 'Could the Astrals have forsaken me? No, that can’t be. I must be steadfast in my faith, even when all hope is lost. Oh the gods above, please me!’

She saw the giant’s fist descending upon her and, with no means of defending herself, she instinctively closed her eyes, and waited for the fatal blow.

A few seconds went by but that fatal blow never came. With her heart still pounding like a drum, she opened her eyes wearily. She was greeted with a sight of Titan’s colossal fist hovering just a few feet above her with a sword-like weapon preventing its descent. She traced the sword with her eyes and looked at the owner, clad in all black, blocking Titan’s mighty attack.

“You all right?” Asked a cool and collective voice as he glanced back at her.

She nodded in response, which wasn’t missed by the stranger looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

“The good thing about a fight with a colossal enemy is that there are plenty of areas to strategically target,” he muttered to himself, as if remembering a lesson he had learned. With all his might, he swung his sword deflecting Titan’s fist. He immediately followed it up with two volleys of blizzard spells aimed right at Titan’s eyes.

Titan screamed in agony and retreated momentarily. This gave enough time to the stranger to lift the rock trapping Lunafreya’s leg.

“Thank you,” she said, as she pulled her leg out from beneath the rock.

“No time for formalities,” he stated, and proceed to cast a healing spell on her.

She closed her eyes as the feeling of rapture engulfed her whole body. For the time being, she forgot how much pain her body had to endure. She would love to be in the state forever if that were an option. But all good things must come to an end such is the cruel nature of life. As the effect of the spell wore off, the pain sensation returned, but with much lesser intensity.

“Take cover behind that boulder, I’ll fight this thing,” he said, just in time to block a renewed attack from Titan.

“No, I’ll fight with you,” she refused his offer. She tried to get up and walk towards her trident, but she stumbled on the first step, and fell to the ground. She noticed her ankle was badly damaged, and walking was excruciatingly painful.

“You’re in no shape to fight so just sit this one out,” he disagreed, while parrying Titan’s attack.

“This is my fight,” she said, as she crawled towards her trident with pertinacity.

“You will only end up getting hurt further,” he said, looking at her struggle as he dodged another attack.

“I don’t care if I get hurt. I only care about fulfilling my duty,” she replied quickly.

“You can’t fulfill your duty if you are dead, can you?” He asked sternly.

“If I don’t even try then how different is it than being dead?” She retorted.

He placed his hand on his forehead. “Whatever. You are stubborn,” he said, sounding annoyed.

“I am not stubborn. I am determined,” she said, with fury in her eyes, as she clutched her trident.

“Determined to die, that is,” he said under his breath, but Lunafreya heard it and gave him a look of contempt.

“Just stay out of my way,” he said, as he readied to charge at Titan.

“What a jerk,” she hissed under her breath, but he heard it. It was very unlike her to get angry at anyone, but here was a stranger who inserted himself in the middle of her covenant with the gods, and then have the audacity to tell her what to do.

“Look, you are hurt. You will only be a liability on the battlefield,” he said, trying to reason with her one last time. He took his eyes off Titan momentarily to look at the girl who was arguing with him in the middle of a battle. It was a costly mistake as the impact of Titan’s fist easily knocked him back a few feet.

“The Fallen has risen? How? He was erased. Matters not, for he shall fall again,” said Titan, angrily at the intruder.

Before the stranger could get back on his feet, Titan’s other hand was ready to pounce on him. Titan’s fist was barely inches away from his face when a translucent golden magic shield blocked his attack dead in its tracks.

“Not much of a liability now, am I?” She said with a hint of a smile.

He tried his best not to react to her comment, but instinctively a hint of a smile crept on his face.

“Well, then, let’s defeat this thing together. We can’t win by defending only,” he said, while getting up under the protection of her magical barrier. She quietly nodded in response. He extended his hand, and she grabbed it, and used it as a support to get back on her feet.

It was the first time she noticed the stranger closely. He wore a black leather bomber jacket over a white deep V-neck T-shirt which parts down the middle of his chest. He wore black pants, and white fur trim along the collar of his pants. A sash partially covers his right leg. He wore a lion-like pendant and a similar belt buckle. He had a distinctive scar which ran diagonally across the bridge of his nose. His unruly shoulder-length brown hair and a short boxed beard gave him a matured look. The way he was dressed was unlike anything she had seen before.

“My, my, what is he doing here?” Said a distant observer, removing his fancy hat. “Him being back is, dare I say, a bad Omen,” said Ardyn, before breaking into a hysterical laugh at his joke. “What an interesting twist in the tale. Bahamut, what are you scheming now?”

On the ground below, the warrior launched himself towards Titan, expertly dodging all the incoming attacks. Lunafreya could tell he was a seasoned warrior.

He hacked and slashed at Titan with great agility. She too joined in by unleashing bolts of magic towards Titan. For the first time in this fight, it felt as if they had an upper hand.

Their victory was short-lived, as Titan swept his colossal hand swatting both of them. That attack caused them tremendous damage. Before they could recover, Titan stomped on the ground, causing a shockwave to knock them off their feet. Titan followed it up by forming a fist and targeting Lunafreya with it.

Because of her ankle injury, she struggled to get back on her feet quickly. She was about to be crushed by an incoming attack when the warrior in black covered her, and took the brunt of the attack. He falls away grimacing in pain.

Titan targeted him next, as he lay on the ground defenseless, still recuperating from the last attack. Just as Titan’s attack was about to land on him, a magical barrier protected him once again.

“This magical barrier of yours is very helpful. How long does it last?” He asked while getting back on his feet.

“I don’t know. 10 seconds maybe?” She said unsure.

“Hmm,” he thought for a second, and continued, “that should be enough.”

“Enough for wha-” Her sentence was cut off as Titan’s attacked knocked Lunafreya off her feet once more. Another pounding of the fist next to her, sent debris hurling towards her, reopening her wounds.

He saw a stream of blood gushing down from Lunafreaya’s hand and head. He looked at Titan with rage-filled in his eyes and ran towards Titan launching different spells all over him. Some hit Titan on his face, some on his hands, and some on his chest. As he got closer to Titan, he slashed him with his sword, creating sparks on each impact.

Instead of defending or even attacking him, Titan launched another attack targeted at Lunafreya again. He rushed back and covered her just in time to protect her, but once again they both were knocked down to the ground. Lunafreya erected her barrier to buy them some precious time.

While lying next to her, he noticed the blood had entirely covered one side of her face. “You’re hurt,” he said, with a hint of concern in his voice.

“I’ll live,” she assured, with a faint smile.

She uttered some spell and healed him, which took him by surprise.

“You should heal yourself first,” he stated the obvious.

“No, you took the brunt of the attack multiple times for me, and you are hurt too, so I should heal you first,” she argued.

“God! You are so stubborn,” he said, putting his hand on his forehead. “Here,” he gestured towards here, casting another healing spell. While it did not stop the bleeding entirely, it eased her pain.

“Next time, heal yourself first,” he said, as he got back on his feet.

Their fight commenced. The dance of attack and defense carried on for a few minutes, with momentum swinging back and forth multiple times during this battle.

Instead of him attacking from close quarters and Lunafreya supporting from the back line, they adopted a new strategy where they fought back to back. It was a lot more efficient than their previous strategy, as now one barrier can protect both parties. They both took turns attacking, so others could get enough rest in between. It surprised them how well they fought together.

“My name is Lunafreya,” she suddenly said, realizing she had not introduced herself to the stranger.

“Squall Leonhart,” he said, without shifting his focus from Titan.

“Have we met before?” Lunafreya asked the stranger.

“No,” he said definitively, before adding, “but you look familiar for some reason.”

“Strange, I feel the same,” she confessed, parrying the attack.

“We need to get an upper hand in this battle. At this rate, we will run out of stamina and all our spells soon,” he remains focused on the task, while sidestepping Titan’s fist.

“What do you suggest?” She asked.

“I don’t know enough about this thing to draw any conclusion. What do you know about this giant?” He inquired.

“Well, this is an Archaean called Titan. The legend says that when the meteor fell on Eos, Titan intercepted it, and has been carrying it on his back for eons,” she said, as she erected her protecting barrier.

“I don’t need a history lesson right now. Just give me any information I can use to defeat it,” he said, getting agitated.

“I don’t know of such information. I was not planning to defeat it,” she said sheepishly.

“You were fighting against it, but had no plan of defeating it?” He said partly surprised and partly frustrated, as he deflected another attack.

“I wasn’t planning to fight with-” she said before he cut her off mid-sentence, “what was the thing you said about Titan carrying something on his back?”

“It’s a meteor this Astral has been carrying for eons. He is protecting this planet by not letting the meteor hit the ground, or so the legend says,” she repeated, her ‘history lesson,’ annoyed at being cut off mid-sentence earlier.

“That’s it!” He said, as his eyes lit up.

“What?” She asked, unsure of what he meant.

“Attack him on his back where the meteor is being held,” he instructed.

“No, that is reckless, I will not do that,” she defied.

“God! Why are you so stubborn?” He complained.

“We don’t know what kind of chaos it could unleash if that meteor hits the ground,” she replied still in shock at his preposterous idea.

“He won’t let it fall at any cost,” he argued back.

“How can you be so sure?” She asked with a reservation.

“Because ever since the fight started, he has used only one hand to attack. His other hand is always supporting the meteor,” he explained the rationale behind his plan. “And if he is carrying it for eons, then chances are, he will try to hold it up at all cost.”

“It is too risky,” she doubted, while wiping her face off the blood.

He turned around, grabbed her hand, and looked straight into her eyes. “Just trust me on this one.”

His commanding tone left no room for argument. She nodded in silent agreement.

He ran towards Titan drawing his attention, while Lunafreya prepared her attack. She said a silent prayer before letting out her attack, hitting the spot where the meteor was lodged in Titan’s back.

Titan let out a deafening roared in response. Titan was furious but, before he could counterattack, Lunafreya attacked again. As the weight of the meteor shifted on his back, Titan immediately focused on readjusting it.

With Titan distracted, Squall let out a volley of blizzardga freezing the entire Titan.

“It’s time to end this,” he declared. His heart was pounding, his focus laser-sharp, as adrenaline ran through his body. It was time for his limit break.

He ran towards Titan with unmatched speed, slicing him with his gunblade multiple times, causing massive damage with each hit. He stepped back and raised his weapon over his head to summon a large aura of energy around it. He charged the energy until it formed a pillar extending into the sky. With a mighty force, he brought down his gunblade and the pillar of energy with it, destroying anything within its path causing an exorbitant amount of damage to Titan.

“Finish it,” he instructed her.

She swung her trusty trident and unleashed a massive amount of energy aim at the heart of Titan. The frozen Titan appeared to shatter into million spectral pieces in the surrounding atmosphere.

Squall looked at Lunafreya, asking for her silent approval to check if it was over. Her face was expressionless, as she was unsure of what would happen next.

Within seconds, the spectral pieces dissipate, and Titan was revealed once again. Titan adjusted the meteor on his back and sat back in a dormant position.

“Mayhap I misjudged your strength,” Titan said in a humbler tone.

She stepped forward confidently with a trident in her hand. “Will you forge a covenant now?”

“Yes. But, I shall first test your king’s strength, before I surrender my power unto him,” said the ethereal voice in a divine language.

“I have full faith that he shall pass your trial. Thank you, for your kindness,” she said, bending her knee and bowing down her head slightly. She was still graceful as always, although she could barely stand.

“Is it over?” He inquired from a distance.

She nodded with a charming smile.

“I hear by form a covenant with thy soul,” echoed the ethereal voice, as gold lights emanated from its body, some of which coalesced around Lunafreaya. The energy circulated around Lunafreya for a few seconds, before lifting her off her feet, and suspending her a few feet in the air. The surrounding energy suddenly imploded on her. As her body absorbed the massive amount of energy, she screamed in pain and collapsed on the ground.

Squall caught her just in time, as her head was about to hit the ground. He cradled her in his arms, as she seemed to be in a deep slumber. Was she exhausted or unconscious? He didn’t know. He quickly checked her pulse. He let out a sigh of relief, when he detected a normal pattern of the pulse.

It was the first time he noticed how beautiful she looked. Something about her felt so familiar to him. A sudden jolt of a headache had him clutching his head in agony. It was as if a distant memory was trying to resurface from the depths of his mind. He vaguely remembered holding a girl in a coma, tenderly in his arms. He caressed her face, but everything was a blur. He could not recall who she was or how she looked. He clutched his head in agony as the memory faded.

A warrior without a past and an Oracle without a future, united in a cruel game of fate.

“Bravo! What a spectacle that was. This was as good as last time, if not better,” Ardyn said, from a distance, eating popcorn in his lounge chair. “Now that my dear friend Squall is back, perhaps it’s time for a rematch with the Astrals. What say you, Bahamut?” He broke into a burst of maniacal laughter, as a dark aura started oozing from him.

Earlier That Day

Gentiana opened her eyes and quickly realized where she was. She was in the beyond, in Bahamut’s domain.

“I know that you can sense him too,” said the ethereal voice of Bahamut.

“Bahamut, what is Squall doing here? How did he–” Gentiana’s curiosity was cut short by Bahamut.

“Do not finagle, Shiva. I had trapped him in the beyond, it is impossible to escape from there without divine intervention,” howled Bahamut in rage.

“Are you accusing me of helping him escape from your prison?”

“I merely suggest the likeliest possibility, as you are the only one among all the Astrals who is fond of that traitor.”

“Let me assure you, I had no role in this,” she said sternly. “I have learned my lesson from last time,” she said with her eyes cast down in a humble tone.

“Have you?” Bahamut asked. “How about you prove it to me?” He challenged.

“What must I do to prove my loyalty?” She asked.

“Do that which you failed to do the last time,” he offered.

“What!”

“Yes, kill him and all that you lost shall be restored to you.”

“You can’t be serious!” Gentiana said, appalled at the proposal.

“Should you kill him, that which is most precious to you will be restored. I want to see the old cold-blooded Shiva back.” He tempted Gentiana with an offer she couldn’t refuse.

“Then I shall do what I must,” Gentiana said coldly.

“I like this attitude, but let’s not get too hasty,” he said with a sudden shift in tone.

“What do you have in mind?” She asked hesitantly.

“Gain his trust and use it to your advantage. Assign him to be the shield for Lunafreya, and guide them through the trials. Bring him to Altissia, to the very location where he betrayed us, and slay him there.”

“What purpose does this serve?”

“My purpose is not your concern,” he said commandingly.

“Maybe so, but is Lunafreya not your concern? Wouldn’t she be hurt by his presence?”

After a long pause, Bahamut finally responded, “I don’t determine fate, I simply enforce it. They are slaves of destiny and duty; they will tear each other apart. Such is their providence.”

“How many times must history repeat itself?”

After an outstretched silence, Bahamut spoke again, “History is only important to those who remember it. He remembers none of it: not of his old world, the Omen, or even his history with Eos. His memory is like a puzzle with missing pieces, and you are forbidden to assist him. He must not learn of his past.”

“You intend to leave him in his ignorance. To what end?”

“Learning about events from the past would corrupt his redemption. Should you tell him, you will suffer the consequences,” Bahamut said in a menacing tone.

“Understood,” Gentiana said with an icy stare.

'Everyone from his old world perished and were reborn on Eos, but he remembers none of them. Moreover, he has no recollection of the events that transpired during the Omen. I wonder if he will even remember me. Can fate be more unkind?’ Gentiana thought grimly.

“He awaits you at Garden of Fenestala Manor,” said the Bladekeeper, breaking Gentiana out of her thoughts.

She glanced at the Draconian before leaving the ethereal realm of the beyond.

“Please forgive me, Eos,” said Bahamut, once he was alone.

Author's notes

Since characters from a different world e.g. FFXIV and Serah (Terra wars) can pop in and leave without altering the overall narrative of the game, I thought why not do something similar for Luna. Unfortunately, we don't learn a lot about the heroine of this story in FFXV, which ironically gives freedom to fill up those gaps as per our imagination. So I picked Squall (Leon) Leonhart (FFVIII)/(KH)/Dissidia to serve as her Shield (I have a good plot reason to pick him.) However, the challenge is to bring Squall into this lore (and take him out at Altissia) while leaving the main FFXV story intact, to the point that not a single dialogue from the game should be changed for any characters involved.

Please leave a comment if you've enjoyed the story so far. It would be very encouraging to hear your feedback. Thanks :)

2 notes · View notes