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xxwritemeastoryxx · 3 years

Text

Unintended Target

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Avengers x Reader

Request: Hellus can I have a Bucky Barnes angst where you're dating and like you get hurt really bad on a mission because you tried protecting him and he just cannot stop crying while you're being treated. Steve like literally has to hold him through it. Ending in fluff. Sorry for so many details ahahaha! -Anon

Word Count:

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mentions of blood, a bit of angst

Author’s Note: We've reached the ending of the first week of May Madness! And welcome to my first one shot for the MCU! But you know me. I do hope you guys enjoy

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Y/N never believed that she’d ever be able to run as fast as she had. Her heart pounded in her chest as she raced against time to get across the property in time. The sound of her boots hitting the ground had been lost to the sounds of gunfire that surrounded her.

She and the rest of the Avengers were dealing with the remnants of a hydra base. What was supposed to be a quick in and out mission seemed to take a turn. There was more manpower than they expected and it was taking longer just to clear the property.

At some point during the fight, she’d lost her earpiece making it difficult to keep in contact with the others. The others knew she could handle herself, even though they were currently trying to find her among the mess that was being created. She had been expecting to meet at the rendezvous spot with a smirk on her face with all the files she needed in her hand.

At least that had been the plan. But after her eyes had scanned one of the files, she dropped the file and began running out of the building. Hydra had a new plan alright. And it was that plan alone that had caused fear to course through her, wanting-more like needing-to be on the opposite side of the property.

“Anyone have eyes on Y/N yet?” Bucky called out as he took down another member of Hydra.

Bucky hated that Y/N currently couldn’t be reached. While he had trained with her plenty of times and knew that she was able to take care of herself, he didn’t know where she was at. He didn’t know if she was injured or having any issues. His girlfriend could easily wipe the floor with him, but as close as they were, he was worried.

She’s not in the west wing anymore. Bucky heard Natasha’s voice over the comms. She left a nice trail in the process for us though.

Natasha was trying to make light of the situation. If she could get Bucky to bring down his worry in the slightest, she was going to attempt it. Together the two were practically unstoppable, separate them and make it so they can’t speak to each other and they’ve got an anxious super-soldier.

I’ve got eyes on her. Clint’s voice came over next. And unless there’s something I’m missing, Y/N is either running from something invisible or she’s trying to get somewhere.

Anything from the west wing she could have seen? Tony’s voice filled their ears.

Still looking. Nat responded.

“Where is she headed?” Bucky asked a moment later, the swift movement of his knife piercing the body of another person advancing on him. With him down, Bucky had cleared his section. His concern now focused on why Y/N had been running away or towards something.

I’ve lost sight of her. She was headed towards the east. More than likely heading your way.

The plans had been replaying in Y/N’s head from the moment she read them in the west wing. The words on the pages she had found made her heart race in a way that all the training she had been through never made it race. The fear had threatened to bring tears to her eyes. All she knew was that she had to get to Bucky.

She hadn’t stopped for a moment since she had begun running. Even when she was faced with those that tried to stop her, she simply pulled out her dagger, allowing it to make contact for a brief moment before she continued. The bodies she left behind weren’t on her mind for more than a second.

As she made it towards the end of the property, her eyes landed on Bucky. From the looks of things, he had finished clearing things out and was beginning to look for her. She knew he had to be seeing as she no longer had her earpiece. It was something he’d always do no matter what the mission was that they were on.

Y/N believed she had made it there on time. That if he was alone he’d be okay. If there were no signs of Hydra, Bucky would be safe. That getting him out of the area would ensure his safety. It was as she began slowing down did Bucky notice her.

He took off on a light jog to meet her halfway from that point. “What happened?” He asked, seeing the look on her face.

“We need to get out of here, now.” she said in between the breaths of air she was trying to get.

You should listen to her. Nat’s voice picked up in Bucky’s ear. This whole thing was a damn setup.

The moment the words registered in his ear, they both noticed the way a red dot appeared on Bucky’s chest. His first instinct would have been to grab the both of them and find cover. Before he could do anything, Y/N’s instinct kicked in and she pushed Bucky out of the way, just as the shot had been fired.

Both of them had fallen onto the ground but it was Y/N that cried out in pain. Her hands automatically tried to grab at her back to take in the injury she had gotten. To apply some kind of pressure to it or at the very least to see where it was.

Just as Bucky moved to look her over a jolt of electricity shot through her body. One that caused a loud piercing scream to pass her lips before she went silent. Bucky could only watch as her body convulsed from the electrical charge running through her body. The last thing Y/N heard and saw was Bucky reaching for her the moment the shocking stopped his voice calling out to her before she passed out.

The minutes after had gone in a blur to Bucky. The others all speaking at once trying to figure out their location. They all had heard her screams. May it have been through the comms or even the fact that they were close by and could hear it. The words mixed in with the emotions that were currently playing through him.

From the moment she passed out, Bucky had her in his arms. He hardly even remembered yelling at the others to shut up and just get to them. They needed to leave before Y/N bled out or even died there in his arms. He didn’t even want to begin to think about her dying there. Not when that shot wasn’t even meant for her.

He could barely remember how long it had taken him to get to the quinjet, let alone the ride back to the compound. The whole ride back, he never left her side. Even when Bruce helped to stop the bleeding for the trip back, he never once took his eyes off of her. Even after getting her to the Med Bay, he fought to be with her. But he couldn’t be.

There was a storm of emotions brewing within him as he watched from behind a glass window as the team Stark hired had begun working on pulling the bullet out of Y/N’s back. The wound was simple, but because of the electric charge that came from it, her skin looked fried around the wound.

Y/N wasn’t even supposed to be in there. She wasn’t supposed to be wounded and it was because of who he was made to be. That the very organization that he had once freed himself from was desperately trying to get him back. And in the process, the woman he loved was injured.

“She’ll get through this.” Steve said as he came to stand beside Bucky. Steve knew that Y/N had been shot at, broken, and bloodied with several of the missions that she had been through. The woman always seemed to pull through.

“That charge that went through her body, was meant for me.” Bucky said never taking his eyes off of Y/N. “My body would have taken that charge and it would have caused little damage. She’s not like us.”

“She may not be like us, but I’ve seen her take on world threats and she’s come out of them right by your side.” Steve needed Bucky to have some kind of hope.

Bucky’s forehead placed against the glass as he shook his head. “I can’t lose her Steve.”

Steve watched as tears slowly formed in Bucky’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or anger that had caused the tears. He brought his hand up and placed it on Bucky’s shoulder. It seemed that the simple action had caused Bucky to let the storm inside of him be released.

He placed his arm around Bucky, allowing his friend to lean on him while he broke down. Steve listened as Bucky mentioned time and time again about it should have been him. That he should have been the one on the table. But if it hadn’t been for Y/N, Bucky would have been taken away.

Steve stayed with Bucky for the time it took to get Y/N closed up and have tests done to make sure the surge of power that went through her hadn’t damaged any of her organs. The testing is what took the longest. The needing to ensure that Y/N would wake up was something that held the heaviest weight.

Y/N’s eyes slowly opened and she found herself in a bed in the Med Bay. A confused look played on her face for a moment before her brain registered the pain her body felt in that moment. She winced as she began to look around before a small smile pulled at her lips.

Bucky had been by her side, his head resting on the space beside her. She could tell he had been sleeping. She could see it in the steady rise and fall of his shoulders as she watched him. Bringing a shaky hand up, she ran it through his hair. The action itself was comforting to herself and if she was being honest, she was sure that it would bring some comfort to him as well.

Her touch had caused Bucky to lift his head quickly. “You’re awake.”

The slight nod of her head had caused her to wince. “How long was I out?” Her voice was rough as she spoke.

“Almost a week.” She could hear the relief in his voice at seeing her awake. He sat up and moved his chair closer before he reached for her hand. “Have I ever mentioned how crazy you are?”

That caused a slight smile to grow on her face, her fingers tightening around his own. “We both know I’m crazy enough to take bullets for the people I love.”

“Doesn’t mean you should.” He said with a slight nod of his head.

“I couldn’t let them take you. Not after everything we’ve done to make sure you got better.” She wasn’t going to let him ‘win’ this argument. “The moment I saw their plans, I didn’t care about anything else. I just knew I had to get to you.”

Bucky sighed as stood up and moved to sit on the bed next to her. His hand came up and ran along her cheek, before bringing his lips to hers for a brief kiss. “I was afraid that you weren’t going to wake up. They kept saying that you were okay, that it would be when you were ready that you would wake up. All I could think about was how there was a whole day where I thought I was going to lose you. And I hated that feeling.”

“If you’re trying to say I shouldn’t go on-” She tried saying before he cut her off.

“No, I would never say that. Not when you know how to take care of yourself. I was just thinking it would be a lot easier and probably safer for the both of us if we stick together as a team.” His words had caused her eyebrow to raise.

“You mean babysit me.” It caused them both to chuckle.

“Is it really babysitting if we enjoy working together?” He asked with a smile pulling at his lips.

She shook her head slightly. “Fine. But even I know it might be a while before I’m out in the field again.”

“About that,” He said as leaned into her a little more. “During your time away from the field, I was thinking about a vacation for the both of us. Lay low while the others cut all the loose ends to ensure there’s no one coming after us.”

“A recovery vacation, while laying low? I’m definitely listening.”

The two of them knew things would never be perfect out there. Not in their line of business. Not with their pasts or even who they’ve become. There would be times where they’d be placed in this same position. They'd be willing to keep the other one safe, no matter the cost.

All WorksTag (The tag to be notified for everything I write):

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@amariaamaris

Excelsior Tag(All MCU fics):

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@fandom-princess-forevermore

#Marvel #MCU #marvel cinematic universe #Bucky Barnes x reader #Reader insert #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fics #Bucky Barnes one shots #Bucky Barnes request #May madness day 8 #May Madness #Feedback is appreciated #Cause part of my brain is giving me negative feedback #But ya'll be the judge of it #Just help me #if it's crap say so #if not tell me what you like about it

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stolen-pen-name23 · 3 years

Note

KATIEEEE THAT PROMPT LIST IS AMAZING YOUR MIND—

ahhh there are so many good ones okay maybe #15 with anakin and ahsoka??

FIONA MY LOVE I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER!!!! //from this prompt list// prompts now closed//

Here ya go!

---

Sickness looms thick in the air like humidity blanketing a coastline.

Refugee camps breed a lot of things – desperation, camaraderie, hunger – but disease is the most ruthless of its spawn. Ahsoka can feel the lives of these poor, tired souls blinking out like so many ancient stars.

Anakin walks beside her, and from the weary set of his shoulders, she knows he senses it too.

They are here to provide relief, but Ahsoka fears they are too late. Hundreds of people lie in sick beds, their emaciated bodies lacking the strength to fend off the virus that has circulated the camp.

The sour scent of bile and death fills Ahsoka’s nostrils and she grimaces. She shifts the heavy backpack full of medicines and vaccines on her shoulders and hears the vials clink against each other.

Anakin falters.

“What is it, Master?”

“Maybe you should go back to the ship,” he says nervously, eagle eyes scanning the hundreds of dead and dying.

“Why?”

“I don’t like the look of this disease.”

“It’s non-transmissible to Togruta. If anything, you should go back to the ship.”

Anakin waves off her protests but does not make her go back to the ship. Instead, he leads the way to a makeshift office area. A woman, haggard but determined, greets them.

“Are you the Jedi?” she asks, hope glinting in her bright eyes.

“Yes. We’ve come with the supplies. There is more on our ship, but we have some here to get started with,” Anakin says.

“Excellent,” the woman says. “We cannot thank you enough. These vaccines will save many lives.”

“Of course. It is the least the Republic can offer.”

Anakin returns to the ship to unload more supplies while Ahsoka stays and begins to help the woman organize the medicines and vaccines.

She pauses and looks around at the desperate scene before her.

These refugees all fled Separatist-controlled planets in search of asylum — in search of hope. Their hopes were dashed when disease broke out in the camp. Now, with every life-saving vial Ahsoka unpacks, she prays to the Force that their hope can be restored.

---

The Resolute has been in hyperspace for two days. Ahsoka knows the journey from the outer rim planet back to Coruscant is a long one, but this knowledge fails to stave off the boredom.

She knocks on the door to Anakin’s quarters impatiently. Ahsoka hasn’t seen him all day and quite frankly, she just needs someone to talk to. She is about to give up and try searching for him in the hangars when he opens the door.

He looks… disheveled.

“Ahsoka? Do you need something?” he asks, voice husky from sleep.

“Did you just wake up?”

“Aren’t you the one always telling me I need to sleep more?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s Obi-Wan and honestly you should listen to him when he tells you to do that.”

“Whatever. Did you need something?” Anakin asks again.

“No, I was just bored. I wanted to see if you wanted to spar. But you look tired so…”

“No, no, I can spar. Just give me a minute to get changed.”

He gestures for her to step inside and she lets the door click closed behind her. His quarters are warm and stuffy and Ahsoka once again finds herself resenting the desert planet he was born on. Ahsoka liked warmth, but having the heater on this high was a tad ridiculous.

“I don’t know how you stand to have it so warm in here.”

“It’s a reasonable temperature,” Anakin says defensively, rifling around in his dresser drawers.

“It’s a reasonable temperature for lizards,” Ahsoka says unimpressed.

She takes a moment to step toward him and give him a closer look. “Are humans supposed to be this pale?”

“I’m not pale,” Anakin says. “Maybe it’s the lighting.”

“The lighting is fine,” Ahsoka says. “But you aren’t.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Anakin says with a conviction so strong Ahsoka would have believed him had he not stumbled forward as he said it. He manages to catch himself and stay upright, but Ahsoka isn’t fooled.

“Are you sure you didn’t pick something up from that refugee camp?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Anakin says. “We’re not as susceptible to contagious diseases, you know that.”

“Not as susceptible, but not immune either,” Ahsoka replies nervously.

It is true that a side-effect of Force sensitivity is heightened stamina and a higher immunity against illness, but that does not mean Jedi are invincible.

Anakin stumbles forward again. This time he puts a hand on the wall to steady himself.

“Master?” Ahsoka asks with concern.

“I’m fine. I’m fine… just a little dizzy,” Anakin says just before sliding down the wall to the floor.

“Anakin!”

Ahsoka rushes forward and grabs his shoulders before his head can hit the ground. “Master?”

“Ahsoka, I’m—”

“Stop saying you’re fine, you’re clearly not fine,” Ahsoka says, a frantic edge creeping into her voice.

“I’m dizzy,” Anakin mumbles. “Was gonna say I’m dizzy.”

This confirmation doesn’t make Ahsoka feel better. She presses her hand to his forehead and winces.

“I don’t think humans are supposed to get this hot,” she says. “I think you did catch something from that camp.”

“It’s okay,” he says softly, his eyes closing. “Just gonna sleep it off.”

“Master…”

“I’ll be fine in the morning,” Anakin insisted. “Just… just need to sleep.”

Anakin’s eyes close right there on the floor. Ahsoka groans. She does not want to drag him all the way to his bed or to the medbay.

“Promise not to get mad,” Ahsoka says as she pulls out her comm.

---

The steady beeping from the heartrate monitor is as comforting as it is annoying. Ahsoka has been listening to it’s rhythmic chimes for hours now, so when the pace changes just slightly Ahsoka shoots up in her seat.

“Master?” Ahsoka asks hopefully.

Anakin groans, his eyes open just a sliver and Ahsoka puts herself in his line of sight.

“Snips?” he asks softly.

“Hey Skyguy. How are you feeling?” Ahsoka asks.

“I feel alright. I told you I just needed to sleep it off.”

“Anakin, you were asleep for 26 hours.”

Anakin’s eyes widen. “Twenty-six?”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka says bitterly. “Twenty-six. And no you did not just ‘sleep it off.’ Kix had to put you on an IV. You were lucky we still had some medicine after we gave so much of it to that refugee camp.”

Anakin shrinks back from her ire, but Ahsoka doesn’t have it in her to feel guilty.

“I’m sorry, Snips, I didn’t realize it was—”

“Oh you didn’t realize it was that bad? You passed out in your room and I had to get Kix to send some clones to come and carry you here.”

Anakin looks around like he’s just noticing that he’s not in his quarters.

“Ahsoka, I’m sorry, but you need—”

“If you’re about to tell me to calm down, you can save it.”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin says softly. “Talk to me. What’s going on? I’ve been hurt much worse than this before. Why are you so angry with me now?”

Ahsoka huffs and crosses her arms. She looks away from Anakin.

“Ahsoka,” Anakin says, his voice turning more commanding. “Please tell me.”

Ahsoka sits down on Anakin’s bed, but doesn’t look at him. “At the… at the camp. All those people… they were dying and so many of them were dead and I saw you collapse and you wouldn’t respond to me and I was just…”

“You were scared,” Anakin finishes.

Ahsoka keeps her gaze firmly fixed on the floor.

“It’s alright to be scared, Ahsoka. You just can’t let it control you.”

“I know,” Ahsoka sighs. “But I still don’t like it.”

“I know. I don’t like it either,” Anakin says.

They sit in silence together, tension still hanging in the air.

“You look exhausted,” Anakin says, breaking the still quiet.

“I’ve been here,” Ahsoka says.

“Come on,” Anakin says, gesturing for her to come lay down with him. “Let’s both get some rest.”

Ahsoka offers him a smile and climbs into the small medical bed. Anakin lifts the blankets and she slides in next to him, laying her head on his chest.

“Master?” she asks after getting settled in.

“Yeah, Snips?”

“Don’t do that again.”

Anakin laughs and the deep rumble of it in his chest reverberates through her montrals.

“I’ll do my best, Padawan.”

#my writing #prompt fill #snips and skyguy #fiona tag #ficlet #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano

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ajeepgirl · 3 years

Text

Hold On

Premise: Lena is severely wounded in a battle.

Inspired by the songs Hold On by Chord Overstreet and The Other Side by Ruelle

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32889202

Kara always thought that the moment she looked back from her pod as a young adolescent girl and saw her own planet exploding would be the memory that always felt like time stood still. She remembers feeling so frozen, so helpless, so alone, in that moment as she realized that everyone she has ever known and loved, she would never see again. She remembers the chill that ran through her entire body, as the reality of her situation dawned on her, turning to face the endless void of space in front of her. She recalls the sudden shock she felt when moments later she was rocketed into the phantom zone by debris from her own planet.

She would question it, for years, really. Why her. Why would the chaos of the universe or Rao itself decide that she be destined to spend the next twenty years in stasis in her pod, endlessly floating as she was half asleep, half unconscious, because of the pod. But still, be awake enough to replay the destruction of her world, over and over again. And even more so, why her cousin would be gifted the ability to arrive safely on Earth, without her. Of course, Kara never voiced these thoughts to anyone when she finally arrived on the planet herself, so lost in her own anger and grief that she never quite got to process losing her family, her people, and her planet. And when she arrived on Earth, she was full of more anger over the fact that she couldn’t do what her parents had asked her to do. She failed them and their dying wish for her. All because Kal was now an adult. Not only that, but he was the Champion of Earth. A Superhero. Superman. And here she was, being tucked away, far away, from the only person she remembers only as a baby. She has no idea who this man was before her. He can’t speak their language, not fluently like her. He reminds Kara of Daxamites who would come visit in efforts to broker piece between their planets, never quite understanding how the language is supposed to flow. It is chunky and hard to hear. Which is why Kara quickly learns English and never speaks Kryptonese with Kal ever again.

But here she is now, once again feeling like she is watching herself, watching what is happening from somewhere else, from above. Because this, much like the destruction of her own planet, this cannot be happening. For the second time in her life, Kara feels like time is frozen as she looks down at Lena’s motionless body. And here she is again... frozen, helpless, and so, so alone.

There is blood everywhere.

Too much blood.

Kara knows it.

Her own heart is pounding in her ears. She is too afraid to even attempt to use her own superhearing to see if Lena’s heart is beating. She is too afraid to know the answer.

“You can’t be dead,” she finds herself saying out loud, instead.

Over and over again. It starts out slow, drawn out, almost a whisper, like she is trying to convince herself first, and then Lena herself. The more she says it though, the quicker it starts to come out and the louder she starts to say it. Like she is trying to will Lena awake just with her words.

“YOU CAN’T BE DEAD!”

Lena doesn’t move.

“Kara, Kara, can you hear me? Did you find her?” It’s Alex, coming over the comes, apparently whatever issue they were having with communication has been fixed.

Hearing her sister’s voice, Kara is finally spurred into action. She reaches down gingerly, her hands shaking as they brush back dark, bloody hair from Lena’s face. She reaches under her and gently lifts her up.

“I’m bringing her to the Tower,” is all Kara says in response.

Alex and Brainy work on Lena for hours.

Kara paces outside the room the entire time, the image of Lena laying in the rubble seared into her brain. She doesn’t notice Nia approaching.

“Kara, how is she?”

Kara, eyes glassy, finally looks over to Nia. She is walking with a limp; her suit is torn, and her arm is in a sling. She clearly didn’t come away from this battle unscathed either.

“There was so much blood,” Kara says, the image still at the forefront of her mind.

Nia nods as she takes Kara’s arm and guides her over to a couch to sit down. “She is a fighter, Kara.”

“She wasn’t supposed to be out there.” Kara says it as she rocks a little bit back and forth, her arms wrapping around her stomach.

Nia puts an arm around Kara’s shoulders. “You and I both know that Lena was never going to stay behind. Aren’t you the one that told me she literally told you she isn’t some ‘damsel in distress’?”

Kara’s lip turns up at the memory before she shakes her head. “Yeah but… but she knew… she knew this was too much of a risk. I was supposed to do it.”

“She did know the risk, Kara. But she wasn’t ever going to let you face it alone.”

“But why, I just…”

“She loves you, Kara.”

Nia says it bluntly. Everyone knows exactly why Lena used her watch and showed up in the middle of the battle, right where Kara was, to use some weapon she just finished designing, to save Kara. And it did, it saved Kara’s life. However, Lena also knew it was supposed to be wielded by Kara because it had too much energy in it. Too much for a human to manage. That’s why Kara was supposed to be the one who used it. She could withstand the energy output.

Kara had been knocked down. She was severely beaten and bloody by the time Lena arrived. And when Lena looked around for anyone else who might be able to wield the weapon, she didn’t see anyone. And she had lost contact with the others. When she tried to reach them, all she got was static. She didn’t have time to do anything else. They were going to kill Kara if she didn’t act. So, Lena took aim, and fired.

Kara remembers her head falling to the side, as she laid on the ground, breathing raggedly, trying to find the strength to get up. Her vision was blurry. She thought she was dreaming, really, when she saw Lena, at first.

But then she saw the weapon. She had just enough time for her brain to register what was about to happen and for her mouth to form the words.

“Lena. No.”

And then all hell broke loose.

The weapon fired. And everything around Kara exploded in a massive burst of energy. Debris and dust flew into the air like a tiny bomb had gone off. In reality, it kind of did. The alien that had nearly killed her was laying several dozens of yards away now, incapacitated. But Kara wasn’t concerned about that now. As she gathered her strength to stand, she used what remained of her powers to use her x-ray vision to search through the dust, unable to see otherwise. She was looking for Lena.

“No no no… where are you…”

Kara hadn’t registered the silence on her comms, which had been cut off from her several minutes ago when she was still being thrashed by the enemy.

It takes another minute before her vision allows her to see Lena’s warm body laying on the ground. She had been thrown a good fifty yards from where she had fired the weapon. Her powers nearly depleted now, she stumbled and crawled across the debris as she makes her way over to Lena.

J’onn, Brainy, and M’gann had to meet them and help Kara fly Lena back to the Tower, with her powers all but gone when she was only halfway back. Kara refused to let any of them take Lena out of her arms though. Instead, they all helped carry Kara, holding onto her in what might be awkward ways, if it wasn’t for the urgency of getting them back to save Lena’s life.

Kara collapsed from exhaustion once they had returned, but of course she refused to sit under a yellow sun lamp. She refused to leave Lena’s side until Alex insisted that she couldn’t be in the room with them, as they worked on her.

Which is why Nia found Kara outside the room, pacing.

“Did you hear me, Kara? Lena loves you.” Nia says it a little softer this time, but with no less conviction. Even Nia, the youngest of the group, is a bit tired of how these two have continued to dance around each other after everything that has happened between them.

Kara’s behavior now, is no less convincing to Nia that they are, indeed, in love with each other.

She nods, her eyes telling Nia that she isn’t really all here with her, that part of her is somewhere else entirely right now.

A few more seconds go by before Kara says softly, “I can’t lose her, Nia. I’m lost without her.”

Nia gently squeezes Kara, letting her know she is here for her, and just holds her as the tears finally come. A sob escapes Kara’s mouth as the reality of the situation finally hits her.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alex and Brainy work on Lena for twelve hours. J’onn and M’gann make several trips to the blood bank.

Lena’s heart stops beating four times.

Each time, it takes them longer and longer to bring her back. As they get Lena’s heart beating again, a part of Alex’s brain, way in the back, registers that it is a good thing Kara solar flared because otherwise, she would be using her superhearing and she would definitely be freaking out every time Lena codes.

When they finally come out of the room, both Alex and Brainy’s feet drag. Their eyes are sunken in with dark circles beneath them. Nia is still seated nearby, with Kara’s head on her lap. Both are asleep. Brainy looks at Alex, asking without words if they should wake them. Alex shakes her head and turns away from them. Brainy follows her in the opposite direction towards a room down the hallway that has a few spare cots. They both immediately pass out from exhaustion.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Kara wakes up a couple hours later, she sits up slowly, wiping away the grogginess from her eyes. Nia mumbles in her sleep as she sinks further into the couch. Kara half-smiles, thankful for the friendship and bond she has with Nia as she stands up and walks slowly towards the doorway of Lena’s room. As she does, she sees Alex walking out of the room down the hallway in a fresh pair of clothes. She is drying her hair with a towel as she spots Kara.

Kara sees her and immediately looks from the doorway to Alex and then back again.

“Kara, wait.”

Alex lets out a sigh as she watches the doorway close behind her sister. She had wanted to prepare her, had wanted to let her know what she was walking into. Kara has never dealt with this level of injury before. She has never had to see someone in this condition before. It can be quite alarming.

Alex decides to give Kara ten minutes alone with Lena before following her.

Once inside, Kara freezes, taking in the scene before her. There is the constant hum of machinery and the constant beep, telling her that yes, Lena’s heart is still beating. There are all kinds of wires and chords and machines around her. Kara isn’t sure what all of them are for though. She never learned about all the Earthly medical stuff that Alex knows from medical school. She takes a few deep breaths as she slowly approaches, unsure of exactly what to do now that she is here. She swallows as she sits down next to Lena’s bedside. Kara finds herself reaching out and taking Lena’s hand and placing it between her own.

She sits quietly for a few minutes, just listening to the machines tell her over and over again that Lena is alive, that her heart is beating. As the memories from the battle, of her conversation with Nia, and the memories of her entire friendship with Lena flash through her mind, Kara’s eyes fill with tears. She lays her head on her hands as she begins to speak.

“You have to wake up Lena… please… I… I can’t… You can’t leave me here alone without you… not yet… I still need you.”

Alex walks in a few moments later. She stands behind Kara, putting a hand on her back.

“When… when will she wake up Alex?”

Alex doesn’t answer right away. She waits for Kara to look up at her, tears still falling from her eyes.

“I… I don’t know Kara. She took massive amounts of internal damage from… the battle… We were able to repair everything that we could find… but her body needs time to repair and heal itself… right now she is still in a medically induced coma… we will wean her off in the next day to see if her body can handle it… and then see if… when… she wakes up… we won’t know anything for sure because of the brain damage from the skull fracture.”

Alex talks more after that, using more medical jargon that Kara doesn’t hear, as she rests her chin on her hands and stares up at Lena’s face. All she wants to do is sit here with Lena, for now until she wakes up.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They end up keeping Lena sedated a few extra days after the first attempt to bring her out of the coma sends her vitals spiking to the point that Alex was sure Kara was about to have a heart attack. On the fifth day, when they try again, the process goes much smoother.

However, Kara is not doing a good job waiting.

“It could be a few hours or a few days, Kara,” Alex reminds her sister, before walking out to meet Kelly for lunch. Kara has barely eaten over the past week, despite everyone trying to convince her that she needs to eat. She continues to insist that she needs to be here, beside Lena, for when she wakes up. She has doubled down with that statement since Lena has been taken out of the coma.

That was 38 hours ago.

When Alex leaves, Kara smiles at Lena. “What does she know anyway, right Lee? I’ve always liked it best when it’s just the two of us. And you’ll wake up when you’re good and ready. For now, I’ll keep reading to you.” Kara continuing to read to Lena from the book she was reading before Alex had come in to check Lena’s vitals. It has become their thing, over the past few days – Kara reading to Lena. Refusing to leave the Tower, barely leaving Lena’s room, she asked Nia to bring her a set of books, a very specific set of books, from her apartment, that she knows Lena likes. And she has been reading them to her every day.

She is getting to the part of the current story, where the protagonist confesses her love for her best friend. It’s a big moment, considering they are on the run and being persecuted for witchcraft by their village. Kara never really understood the appeal of historical fiction. Though, she has been slowly getting it over the past few days. Many of these books, underneath the overarching historical elements that fuel the tragedies in the stories, are telling stories about romance and growth and acceptance. These are aspects of storytelling that she can get behind.

Kara gets to the end of the chapter, where the confession happens and the two characters are immediately torn from one another, because of course they are. She sets the book down and again finds herself reaching out and holding Lena’s hand gently in her own. She intertwines their fingers and finds herself tracing patterns over Lena’s knuckles as she thinks about her own story and what it might look like if it were written by someone. How might someone tell her story? She thinks back, recalls watching the tapes with Mxy, remembers how he summarized her relationship with Lena at that time. She thinks about how someone might write a story if they were telling it form the perspective of her and Lena.

She sighs as she looks back up at Lena’s face before she looks back at their hands, a sad smile forming on her face as she blinks away the tears. “Please wake up Lena… You are my sun. You are my everything. I… I still need you. I don’t want to live this life without you… I don’t know if I can…”

A few seconds of silence go by before Kara suddenly hears, “This might sound a bit anticlimactic after that amazing declaration… but… I love you too, Kara.”

As she says it, Kara’s face shoots up, her eyes zoning in on Lena’s face in disbelief as Lena looks back at her. She is talking. She is responding. She is awake.

“Lena,” she breathes out, still not quite processing the actual words that Lena has said.

Lena smiles. “Hi darling.”

“You’re awake.” Kara’s eyes are full of tears now, free flowing down her cheeks.

“And you’re crying,” Lena responds with just the slightest bit of wit.

“Lena,” she says again, this time more emphatically. “You love me…. You love me?” Lena laughs knowing she is watching Kara process out loud because the first one was a statement and the second one was a question. She nods. Her smile widens as she raises her other arm up and signals for Kara to come closer.

Kara stands excitedly before her mind catches up. “Um… I don’t want to… hurt you… you’re still healing.”

Lena smiles again, softly this time. “We will be gentle. This bed is plenty big enough. Come lay down with me, please?”

Kara nods as she takes the last two steps forward. She helps Lena adjust slightly on the bed, before laying down next to her, immediately engulfing Lena in her arms.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself,” Lena immediately says, sadness in her voice. Now that she has gotten a closer look, she can see the bags under Kara’s eyes and hear the rumble in Kara’s stomach.

Kara shrugs. “I’ll be fine, I can sleep now that I know you’re ok.” Lena lets it go, still too tired to argue with Kara in her current state. She makes a mental note to circle back to this particular issue at a later date.

As they curl up together, Lena smiles into Kara’s chest. “You know, if I had known this was all it would take for you to finally admit you love me…”

“Lena Kieran Luthor.”

“Too soon?”

“Too soon.”

Lena chuckles to herself at her morbid joke, tucking her head further into Kara, relishing the feeling. Despite her own protest to the joke, Kara still turns her head and gives Lena a kiss on the head.

“Thank you for coming back to me.”

“Always.”

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #they are in love #angst with a happy ending

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hongism · 4 years

Text

mists of celeste ➻ 28

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 5.7k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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✧✧✧ act four ➻ part three

“Mingi had an episode in the mess hall.”

“Captain–” Seonghwa swivels to call Hongjoong forward, but the captain has already stood up and made his way over to the door. He comes to a halt not far behind Seonghwa, eyes trained on San and no one else. There’s only silence for several moments, and you aren’t sure what to make of it until Hongjoong dares to speak.

“Lieutenant, I want the crew here in less than five minutes.”

“All the crew?” Seonghwa inquires. Hongjoong pauses, inhaling a breath so deep that you can see the way his chest puffs a bit.

“Minus Mingi,” he responds after a breath of hesitation. Seonghwa nods and steps around you, no doubt trying to get to the comms station outside. He pauses next to you though, and you shift to look at him at the same time that he glances down at you. His lips part, and words are on his tongue, yet they are words that never reach your ears because Hongjoong speaks again before he has the chance. “Seonghwa.”

The tone is firm enough to cause Seonghwa to move again, and he leaves your side to escape the room. It leaves you with the bitter taste of curiosity on the back of your tongue, wondering what he intended to say and what was on his mind for the past week and why he couldn’t at least visit you once.

“If it’s what you want, let’s do this once more. And if it’s time that you need, I can be as patient as you need me to be. Whatever it is you want this to be… whatever it is you need me to be… I’ll do it for you.”

Unless his definition of patience somehow became avoidance, you cannot figure out where this sudden change came from or why it’s happening. You have better and more important things to worry about for the time being though. Your woes surrounding Seonghwa will have to wait for another time because Hongjoong is clearing his throat again and look between you and San with expectant eyes. He somehow bears even darker circles than Seonghwa did, but even with the exhaustion on his features, he seems as awake and alert as ever.

“I’ll ask for a deeper explanation once the others are here but…” Hongjoong trails off, voice dying before he can finish the thought.

“Everyone is still in one piece, yes,” San finishes. His presumption must be accurate because Hongjoong fully exhales the breath he’s been holding in since before Seonghwa left.

“Anyone hurt?”

“Wooyoung sliced his hand open, but that was unrelated.” Hongjoong opens his mouth again less than a second later, but San beats him to it once more. “Mingi is okay as well, as is everyone else as far as I’m aware. When they left, that was the case.”

A whooshing sound echoes through the room, and Hongjoong stands up a bit straighter as Seonghwa steps back into the office, looking a bit more somber than before. You twist to watch him enter. He isn’t alone this time either; Jongho is the first to enter behind him, followed by Wooyoung and Yeosang, who has his hand wrapped tight around Wooyoung’s, and finally Yunho walks in with his head dipped to his chest. Seeing him in such a state of disarray is disconcerting, to say the least, and painful nonetheless. You can hardly look away from the blossoming bruises over his neck, ones that are splotchy and red right now.

Hongjoong doesn’t wait for everyone to file in and line up before unleashing his barrage of questions, but his impatience doesn’t surprise you in the slightest.

“What happened? What was the trigger? How long did it take to get under control? Did you have to use force to stop him, or was he able to overcome it on his own?”

No one responds right away. You can’t recall a time when the air has ever been so still and quiet. It would be disconcerting if you did not know the reason behind it, but that much is obvious considering what went down in the mess hall less than two hours ago. Then Wooyoung starts speaking, or at least tries to when –

“I triggered him,” Yunho cuts in, lifting his head for the first time and looking Hongjoong directly in the eye. “I brought up – I mentioned Kebos on accident.” Wooyoung’s eyes grow to an impossible width, and he seems to be half a breath from countering Yunho’s false confession, but yet again, the taller man doesn’t give him a chance. “And I panicked a bit too much without realizing how it would affect him. It trigg – I triggered the episode.”

“You know better, Yunho,” Hongjoong replies, tone barely above a whisper. It holds no contempt or anger; frankly, all you can hear is the interlacing confusion in his words, as though he can’t believe that Yunho of all people would make such a mistake. He wouldn’t be wrong to think so in any case, but it’s still something you don’t understand in the slightest. Yunho swallows around nothing, and his tongue darts out to moisten his thin lips before retreating back into his mouth.

“I messed up.” Yunho drops his eyes to the floor. His shoulders begin to sag bit by bit, and you aren’t even sure he’s doing it intentionally with the pace his body moves at. Jongho takes the chances to divert the subject, stepping forward just enough to draw Hongjoong’s attention off Yunho.

“It didn’t take more than ten minutes to get everything under control. He didn’t have a bad episode. I would say it was a more mild one, but he did hurt Yunho in the process. No force needed to stop him; however, I was able to talk him down and bring him back in one piece.”

Hongjoong releases a deep sigh, bringing a hand up to rub at his forehead, then he turns on his heel and moves back towards his desk. Seonghwa is quick to follow; he steps around you and San to draw closer to the captain. His hand ghosts over your back as he goes, and for a moment, you think you imagined the sensation, but Seonghwa confirms its presence when he glances back at you.

“How is Wooyoung’s injury?” Hongjoong inquires after a long bout of silence.

“Recovering. He’ll be fine: more shaken up than anything else. It caught him – all of us off-guard,” Yunho explains. He doesn’t lift his gaze from the floor. The way his shoulders slump forward is a clear sign of his guilt towards the situation, but he opts not to voice any further grievances or explanations. Hongjoong hums in reply before shifting his gaze to Jongho.

“And how is Mingi?”

“Upset. He says I should have used a gun and ended it there. I talked him down from a worse episode than this one though, so… baby steps.”

“Baby steps,” Hongjoong echoes, lips barely moving.

“Progress is progress, Captain,” Jongho speaks up again, tone a bit louder than before. “That’s better than nothing.”

“You’re right… Could’ve afforded faster progress though, but I suppose we don’t have a say in that matter.”

“We should discuss the mission,” Seonghwa whispers when silence envelops the room again. “While everyone is present.”

“Right, yes, the mission. The plan is –” Hongjoong slips around the backside of his desk, motioning down at the mess of papers atop it “–information gathering. That’s all. We’ve been going back and forth on what the plan would be exactly for the past week, and the agreem–conclusion was that it’s best to gather intel where we can and leave.” Hongjoong seems to want to say something more. His gaze flits over to where Seonghwa now stands close to his desk, but he doesn’t add to his thoughts, merely sending a somewhat annoyed stare at the back of his lieutenant’s head.

“We will have a lot more luck if that’s the case,” Seonghwa says without looking back at Hongjoong. “Gathering the intel and leaving the planet before the military can sniff us out, or before something worse happens.” You know Seonghwa is looking to you for some sort of reaction to the mention of the military, but you manage to conceal your expression long enough for his gaze to pass onto someone else.

“I have settled an agreement with Vladimir. We will be meeting in three days to discuss my questions and the information I’m after, and once our conversation comes to a close, he will name his price. The meeting place is at the arena during one of his matches.”

“Isn’t that a bit…?” San cuts it but trails off before he can finish the thought. The hesitation makes sense, as does the confusion about the situation. You can’t imagine Hongjoong would easily agree to such a dangerous agreement. Should Vladimir request something Hongjoong doesn’t want to give, then what? Would he ask for a Siren? Information about them? Maybe he would just ask for you and be done with it because of the bounty on your head. Or perhaps he would opt to take all of you and collect a lifetime’s worth of money. There are too many ‘if’s and ‘maybe’s. The lack of certainties in this plan already is concerning, to say the least.

“We have worked a few things out through our previous chats. Monetary compensation only, and nothing else.” Hongjoong dispels your concerns in an instant with those words, and you find yourself exhaling a breath of relief. San’s eyes dart over to you, concern glistening over his dark orbs before he returns to staring forward. “Seonghwa and Yeosang will be at my side throughout the whole meeting. I will not be allowed to keep an earpiece or a wristband on my being throughout the meeting, but both Seonghwa and Yeosang will have them. Seonghwa will serve as a broadcast for the conversation, and you all will be able to hear every word being said. It is also a failsafe in the event that… and we hope this won’t be an issue, but a failsafe for if things turn south. Understand so far?”

A myriad of nods and murmurs of approval greet Hongjoong, his eyes shifting from person to person until he reaches Seonghwa.

“Good, now — we will also have a right-wing team. Since this meeting is happening inside the arena, we will need teams to move through both wings of the stadium. The right team will consist of Yunho, Wooyoung, and Y/N.” The plans for that haven’t changed in the past week, but the way Seonghwa presses his lips tighter together is more than enough evidence to tell you that it was a lost battle on his part. He isn’t the first to protest the arrangement though – it’s Yeosang who steps forward, arm pulling away from Wooyoung’s as he draws closer to Hongjoong.

“That team doesn’t have a strong enough defense. If something were to happen, they would be at a tactical disadvantage. And you know that I do–”

“Hear the rest of the plan first, Yeosang,” Hongjoong counters. “You’ll understand the logic behind it once I finish.” Yeosang’s lips fall shut, teeth almost clattering together as he snaps them together, and he lets Wooyoung tug his sleeve to pull him back to his original place. “As I was saying, the right-wing team will consist of those three with the main purpose of being scouts. Just meant to be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary, whether that be soldiers, snipers, or generally suspicious things. Now, for the left team, the purpose will be similar but not the same. Jongho, you’ll lead the team. San and Mingi will follow.”

What follows is a jumbled mess of words that makes little sense in your mind, but you manage to pick out a few words here and there.

“Mingi?”

“Hongjoong, that’s–”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Quiet,” Hongjoong orders, lifting one hand above his head just a bit. Silence falls over the room without hesitation, and all the voices die into nothingness as Hongjoong lifts his chin to stare out over his crew. “I am well aware that there are many concerns to take into account in this decision. It is not set in stone yet, and most certainly not something I’m confident in doing knowing that he had an episode not too long ago–”

“Yeah, not too long ago as in less than two hours ago!” Jongho snaps. Hongjoong meets his fiery gaze with one that contains equal heat, barely flinching as the Berserker hurls the words his way.

“You know better than anyone what the risks are, Jongho. As does Yunho. So enlighten us a bit, and explain what those risks are.” Hongjoong clenches his fists against the desk. Jongho doesn’t answer right away; his lips stutter and mouth meaningless words that never reach the air. The captain turns to Yunho next, eyes searching and demanding an answer that still doesn’t come. “If it can be avoided, I would like to know. But leaving Mingi on the ship alone is the last thing I want to do.”

“Then let me stay behind with him,” Yunho insists, but the words hold no confidence or certainty.

“That’s not an option, Yunho. We have to have a right-wing team, and I cannot send Wooyoung and Y/N alone.”

“Scrap the left team and keep me on the ship with Mingi then!” Jongho takes a quick step forward. For a second, his red eyes flash with a barely contained rage, and out the corner of your eye, you see Seonghwa discreetly lower a hand to the holster residing on his right thigh. “San and Y/N can take the left-wing, and Yunho and Wooyoung can take the right.”

“Oh? And leave Yunho and Wooyoung without any defense whatsoever? How is that a good plan, Jongho?” Hongjoong chastises. Jongho seems to at least see the logic in those words, shoulders losing some of their tension as he withdraws from Hongjoong’s desk a bit.

“There are too many… I don’t even know where to begin with the list of bad things that could happen if you bring Mingi into that arena,” he murmurs with his gaze glued to the floor.

“Risks! Then what are the damn risks?” Hongjoong slams a fist against the table, eyes narrowing on Yunho and Jongho where they stand near your side. Yunho purses his lips and shakes his head, an evident lack of knowledge concerning what Hongjoong asks. Jongho, however, avoids Hongjoong’s stare like it’s a plague spread by sight. “Jongho, give me an answer. Best case scenario?”

“Best case scenario is that Mingi goes fucking psycho,” Jongho relents, giving an answer to Hongjoong’s desperate questions at last. “And I somehow manage to quell him before something worse happens.”

“And worst?”

“Worst is that he goes fucking psycho and kills me, which means the none of you have a way to stop him without killing him.”

The odds aren’t pretty in the slightest. It doesn’t take a genius to see that. Hongjoong doesn’t seem to be backing down though; he still seems adamant about bringing Mingi along despite the risks. The captain sinks to his chair without a word, hands pressed hard against his temples.

“Yunho, give me something. Anything.” Hongjoong’s tone is nothing short of desperate. On your left, Seonghwa grinds his teeth together and avoids looking at Hongjoong.

“I have an… idea,” Yunho starts, tone barely above a whisper. It isn’t hard to see that he’s hesitant and nervous about whatever it is he’s thinking. Again, you find yourself wallowing in shock. First, Hongjoong’s brash and bold facade falling away, and now Yunho’s arrogant and know-it-all attitude?

“Yunho.” Desperation doesn’t sound pretty falling from Hongjoong’s lips. You’ve decided that much.

“I don’t think I could carry it out in good conscience. It’s a bit – well, it’s unethical.”

“Jeong Yunho, I could care less about ethics right now. But if you don’t hurry up and spit it out, I will have no qualms with putting your head through a wall.” The threat falls on deaf ears, and Yunho doesn’t seem daunted by Hongjoong’s words in the slightest. Still, he heaves a deep breath and continues to speak.

“There’s a way to, uh, accelerate a hard reset. I’ve been looking into it over the past few days since Y/N told me what the military did to her. According to my research, the military uses a serum – injected into the arm once – then sends several electric pulses to the brain. They often add a narcotic given orally so that the patient doesn’t feel any pain throughout the process.” Yunho’s gaze shifts over to you. “It effectively wipes the memory of the patient.” The gleam in his eyes is almost expectant, like he’s waiting for you to have some sort of reaction. And you do.

Strong arms yanking you forward, fingers closed around your bicep. Weak cries for help and attempts to pull away. A cold chair against your back, then the touch of rough leather straps coming over your wrists and ankles. Writhing and kicking to get out of the chair, only to be hit across the temple with a sharp jab. A stab of a needle, a syringe going into your skin, a strange blue liquid being pushed into you. Warmth, then the feeling of your blood turning to ice. Your mouth forced open and something being shoved deep inside. Red. So much red. Hands coming down on your head. Then – nothing.

You don’t realize what’s going on around you until several sets of eyes snap to focus on you. Frankly, you think that you’re handling the trauma quite well. Still on your feet, at least even if you can’t think thanks to the rush of blood in your ears. You imagine that you even manage a tight-lipped smile in Yunho’s direction – an assurance that you are just fine. That was a minor miscalculation, as it turns out, and all of a sudden, San’s hand is on the back of your neck, cradling your head when your knees buckle and you nearly fall to the ground. It’s embarrassing more than anything else, especially with the heat of Hongjoong’s stare on you and your determination to not be weak in front of him. You seem to be proving anything but the fact that you’re strong.

San’s touch is too much. It sears your skin, fills your head and overwhelms you in seconds, and you do hit the ground this time, although it only consists of your knees hitting the metal underneath you. San chases you, hands seeking purchase on your waist and shoulder, but you swat the offending limbs away before he can touch you. It reminds you too much of that dark room, the hands closing around your temples, and the cold liquid filling your veins until you could feel nothing else. The memory that has been buried for years and years coming forward again, stronger than ever before. Your head feels as though it’s being split open with a dull knife, but you can’t even manage to cry out from the pain.

“I’m fine,” you hiss out between gritted teeth. San’s hands remain close though, ready to make contact if need be. Seonghwa has angled his body in your direction, and his brows are so closely knit that you can hardly see the skin between them. He doesn’t move though, staying as far away as he is without making any effort to come closer. Hongjoong barely bats a lash in your direction.

“Will he have a similar reaction?”

Yunho’s gaze flits between you and Hongjoong, mouth hanging open and failing to produce words for what feels like hours.

“H-He – possibly. Yes, he might,” he manages after some time. “In the event we discuss it. I… Y/N went years without remembering what happened, though. He could remember nothing depending on how effective the process is.”

“How quickly can you complete the procedure?” Hongjoong’s tone has grown cold and emotionless, face as rigid as a statue. You would believe that he’s an Elitist at that moment if you didn’t know better.

“Hongjoong, you – you can’t be seriously considering this,” Seonghwa stammers.

“How long will it take, Healer?”

Yunho presses his lips together.

“I should be able to complete the procedure in no more than an hour. All Mingi needs to do is have ample time to recover physically. Maybe a day at most. I – I would need the serum they use. I can’t make it myself.”

“That can be arranged. We can find a source and dispatch a team to collect it within a day.”

“Hongjoong–”

“You can’t be serious about this,” Jongho growls, stepping forward once more, but this time he doesn’t stop until he hits the edge of the desk. His hand darts out and snatches the collar of Hongjoong’s shirt. Seonghwa lunges into action, hand gliding over the table before rising up to press against Jongho’s neck. There’s a glimmer of silver, and it’s only then when you notice the blade in Seonghwa’s hand, one that is digging into Jongho’s skin without relent.

“Yunho, we’ll have what you need within a day,” Hongjoong continues without so much as batting a lash at Jongho’s aggression. “You should be prepared to conduct the procedure day after tomorrow, and that will give you enough time to finish it and help Mingi recover for the mission the next day. You all are dismissed for the time being.”

No one moves despite the order. If Hongjoong is surprised or angered by that, he doesn’t let it show on his expression.

“If you do this, I won’t forgive you,” Jongho hisses. His knuckles go white from the pressure of his clenched fist.

“Don’t be mistaken, Jongho. I don’t need your forgiveness for anything I do.” Seonghwa’s hand twitches, and the blade drags over Jongho’s skin. A few droplets of blood glide down to the hilt of the knife. “Should my decisions upset you that deeply, then you are welcome to leave the crew as you see fit.”

Jongho jerks backward, hand falling down to his side, and from where you kneel on the ground, you can clearly see the anguish that paints his expression. His chest heaves a bit from the deep breaths he’s gasping in, but words fail him for several moments. The whole situation unfolding before you feels like a fever dream, something so surreal and confusing and painful, but somehow that only gets worse. You couldn’t describe the pain that blossoms in your chest when Jongho utters his next words if you wanted to; all you know is that it’s such a tangible pain that you feel it through your whole body.

“Then I’ll pack my things and be gone in the morning.” A startled and choked sob bursts from Wooyoung’s lips, and his hand reaches up to clap over his mouth just as quickly. He attempts to hide himself from view before anyone can see the evidence of his distress. It’s useless, of course, but no one is about to tell him that. Yeosang extends a silent offer of support, arms wrapping around Wooyoung’s waist and pulling him into a tight embrace as the other quietly cries against him. Hongjoong’s gaze flits over to watch the exchange.

“So be it.” Hongjoong’s words are tight, strained, and almost thick. However, he doesn’t try to stop Jongho, and when the Berserker turns around to leave the room, Hongjoong merely watches him go. Yunho rushes to follow the man out, calling out his name too late.

“Hong–” Seonghwa doesn’t get to finish his thought as the captain levels him with a glare so intense that you have to look away.

“Yeosang, San, and Y/N. Return tomorrow at seven in the morning. You’ll be the team going to get the serum for Yunho.” You push up to stand up straight once more, San’s hand lingering near your back in case you fall again.

“Understood, Captain,” Yeosang replies over Wooyoung’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything more than that; instead, he guides the man in his arms to the door with gentle hands and pushes. Once the door snaps shut behind them, the cracks in Hongjoong’s resolve begin to show. He exhales a staggered and shaky sigh, head dipping down until he stares at the wood under him with empty eyes.

“Don’t give me that look, San,” he mutters after a few seconds of stagnant silence.

“Sorry, Captain. I’m–” San inhales sharply and blinks up at the ceiling before he continues the thought “–You once told me that even when there seems to only be one way out, there is always another option. I hope you remember that.”

You move when San does, not wanting to stay in the room any longer than you have to, and neither Hongjoong or Seonghwa try to stop you from going. Stepping back onto the bridge is like breathing fresh air after being trapped inside for too long. There’s an immediate break in the tension, and reality seeps through your skin in that moment.

“He’s not… he’s not serious, is he?” You ask, tone so hushed that you aren’t sure San hears it at first. All San can do is release a dry laugh.

“Which one are you talking about?” You aren’t even sure that you could answer that. San tilts his head from side to side, releasing a small hum as he leads the way off the bridge. You fall into step with him without complaint, content with going wherever he goes as long as it’s away from Hongjoong’s quarters. “Jongho is dead serious. He would never let any harm come to Mingi, and if he had it in him, I’m sure he would go against Hongjoong’s orders. I think – I think he sees leaving as his only option. The only way he knows how to get Hongjoong to see reason and think straight, or… yeah. I think he’s being serious, but Hongjoong? Not at all. He’s not thinking straight, too little sleep obviously but also too caught up in something in his head. I’ve seen him like this before, making bad and irrational decisions out of desperation. He’ll get over it.”

“How long will that take?”

“Hopefully less than two days?”

“You don’t sound confident,” you say through a weak smile.

“I’m not.” San glances over at you, eyes glistening with an emotion you can’t read. However, you don’t have time to dwell on it or wonder what it is because he continues speaking without dwelling on the subject for long. “If this does work out the way Hongjoong wants it to, then we’ll be going on yet another dangerous mission, huh?”

“Not as dangerous as the last, I hope,” you murmur back.

“I fear that… more than I would like to admit. A repeat of what happened last time we were on an official mission. I don’t think I can go through that again.” San pauses, and his tongue darts out to drag over his lips. “Seeing you in the position again — t-that’s hard to think about. Any of the crew in that position for that matter.” You aren’t sure what compels you, but you reach down to catch hold of his hand, pulling it closer to you and lacing your fingers through his without saying anything for a few moments. When you do muster the strength to speak, your voice comes out as nothing more than a whisper.

“We’ll be more careful this time. Better prepared too.”

“Seonghwa must be rubbing off on you,” San chuckles. “You sound just like him.” The words catch your off-guard, and you pull your hand back in an instant thanks to the surprise. You don’t know what expression crosses your features, but San sees it and devolves into a small panic because of it. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t – I didn’t mean to overstep. If you–”

“No, no, it’s okay. I just w-wasn’t expecting that,” you interject, equally as rushed and frantic. It serves to calm San down some though, and that’s all you can ask for at this point in time. “You’re not overstepping.”

“Then would it be too much to ask if everything is alright between the two of you?” San’s question isn’t inherently nosey or prying, merely a genuine question about the state of your relationship with Seonghwa, but you aren’t even sure how to answer that yourself. It isn’t a relationship – a romantic one, that is – but it surely can’t be described as nothing more than a friendship or a work relationship because friends or coworkers don’t necessarily behave the way the two of you do. The lack of a label on it helped up until this point. Now you feel as though you’re swimming in a deep ocean with no life vest.

“We’re… on break?”

“Now look who doesn’t sound confident,” San teases. The smile that stretches his lips offers a moderate amount of comfort, and you find yourself returning it with one of your own without thinking.

“He’s patient and giving to a fault almost, and I — it makes me feel guilty because I can’t give the same in return. So… on break.”

“Hm, well, if I may be so bold as to offer some sort of advice?”

“Be as bold as you want, by all means.”

“In any type of relationship, there is give and take whether you are aware of it or not. You may not feel like you are giving as much as he is, but the guilt you feel towards it is more than enough to show that you aren’t intrinsically a bad person or someone who just wants to take. Some people show affection and love through giving. It’s hard not to want to give back in return, but at some point, it all becomes a matter of perspective. Receiving love, letting someone give you that, allowing yourself to accept those things – I guarantee that the other person sees that, appreciates it, and feels your affection through it. Especially when you’ve gone through things that would otherwise hinder your desire and ability to let people into your heart.” San’s gaze is almost too warm and soft on your skin, and chills go through your spine because of it despite the warmth.

“I-I… you’re t-too bold, Choi San,” you stutter as you try to wrangle your scrambling thoughts before they slip too far away from you.

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Which one?” San hums, moving to tap his chin, and you swing a fist at his arm. “Sorry, sorry! It was a joke! Please don’t hurt me!”

“As much as I hate to admit it: yes, you’re right. Those sorts of emotions are something I’ve never put much value or care into because of my line of work. When I did, it was something I didn’t value enough until they were gone. So I suppose that part of me doesn’t know how to do it right.”

“Well, is that something you would want one day? Someone – a person and a family or the like?”

“I’ve never thought about it that way.”

“Never seen people as a necessity? Moreso just constants in your life? Things that come and go without influence or intention?”

“Stop reading my mind,” you grumble, turning your cheek in the opposite direction so you don’t have to suffer looking at San’s everpresent grin. “Yes, I think I would like to have that someday. When this is all over, and I can rest without constantly looking over my shoulder or worrying that something bad might happen.”

“Hm, do you think that’s a possibility?” You barely notice that you and San have stopped moving. You’re suddenly standing still in the corridor, side by side but now facing each other head-on, and San continues peering at you with those same perceptive eyes.

“I think… I think I would only have that peace when I’m dead.” San’s smile falters and shifts into a pursed frown.

“You’ll find that peace one day, Y/N. I’m certain of it. Because if even I can be worthy and deserving of having that chance at happiness, then you can too.” His words almost put a spell over you, and you find yourself stuck to the spot, unable to budge even an inch. San reaches up and cups your face with his hands, letting his grin return and tug one side of his lips up. You follow the movements with your hands as well, not with the intent to pull him away but merely to let your fingers rest against his wrists as he holds you gently. “We’ll get there,” he whispers.

“O-Okay,” you respond with a series of shaky nods. Slowly but surely, San moves closer to yours, lips pressing against your forehead so softly that the feeling of the kiss ghosts over you in less than a second. He pulls back with a sigh, not asking for anything more than that, then extends a hand in your direction. It takes a moment for it to process, but you place your own in his once it dawns on you.

“Come on. I guess we better go say our goodbyes to Jongho.”

✧✧✧ a/n: gah yall have no idea how much I missed this ;-; I'm so happy to be writing something that isn’t smut KLFJSDKLFJL i needed this break from kinktober and I'm so happy that this is the chapter I got to write because whewie she’s a big one and she’s intense!! I hope you guys enjoy tho pls let me know what you think >-<

if you would like to, you can take the survey here! if you would like to be added to the taglist, just let me know!

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awhitehead17 · 4 years

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Whumptober 2020: Day 23 - What’s a whumpee gotta do to get some sleep around here?

Prompt: Sleep deprivation

Summary: When Tim gets hit with Poison Ivy’s new toxin, he’s forced to stay awake until an antidote is created. Normally it would be easy however since he’s already pulled two all-nighters prior to being affected, it becomes a whole lot more difficult.

Enjoy! :D

“Okay, so, don’t be mad, but something’s happened.”

It takes all of Bruce’s self-restraint to not let the sigh slip past his lips upon hearing his eldest son’s words. He knew the night had been going too smooth to be true, nothing has happened up until Dick called him through the comms.

“B? You still there?” Dick’s concerned voice travels into his ear.

“Yes, Nightwing, I’m still here.” Bruce answers evenly, waiting for his son to get to the point.

Nothing good ever follows the words ‘something’s happened’.

“In simple terms, Red Robin’s been hit by Ivy’s new toxin. He’s fine, except not if you know what I mean.”

Unfortunately Bruce does know what he means. Tim is fine physically and not injured however he has a poisonous toxin running through his veins.

“Red’s on his way back in the Batmobile with Robin, not the smartest move I know but Robin was there when Red got hit.”

Bruce finally gives in and lets out that sigh. He wish he could have been out in the field helping to find Poison Ivy, however he’s stuck in the cave behind the computer because of a damaged hip he acquired 3 nights ago, he was in no shape to go out and fight villains.

Ivy has recently conjured up a new toxin one of which takes affects when the body is asleep. When the body is relaxed the toxin begins to shut down the organs, eventually killing the affected in their sleep.

This new toxin appeared two nights ago and has been a headache since. Bruce has had to split the family up into two, one half going out on patrol to find Ivy herself and the other half is mixed between working on an antidote (since it’s new they have not yet got one) and working out what Ivy’s other motives are as there’s reason to believe this toxin is simply a distraction for something bigger.

The fact Tim has now been hit with the toxin brings a new urgency to creating an antidote.

Bruce is disrupted from his thoughts when a familiar engine could be heard echoing throughout the cave. He waits patiently and observes as the batmobile pulls to a stop and two doors open up. The bickering could instantly be heard and Bruce takes a deep breath in order to help prepare himself to be deal with his two youngest.

His sons immediately head over to him at the computer and stand a couple feet away. Damian was scowling, he had his hood up and arms crossed over his chest. Tim had his cowl down and Bruce could see the way his eyes were dilated and how sweat was coating his skin.

“Father,” Damian demands his attention after a moment, “Drake has once again proven that he is incompetent in the field.”

Next to him Tim grits his teeth and Bruce could see how the boy was holding himself back from making the retort he desperately wants to.

“Damian, you’re finished for the night, go get changed and head for bed.”

“But father-”

Bruce’s glare stops his youngest from voicing the rest of his protest. Once Damian is heading for the changing rooms, he turns to Tim. “Tim, I want you to go to the medical bay, let Alfred take a blood sample and then get yourself washed and changed. Once you’re done, we’ll talk.”

Tim wordlessly nods and heads for the medical bay where Alfred was waiting for him. While he waits for Tim to sort himself out he turns his attention back onto his other family members still out in the field. He updates them with the situation and gets reports back in return. By the time he was all caught up Tim had retuned to the computer.

“How are you feeling?”

Tim sighs and runs a hand through his damp hair. “I’m fine, I don’t feel like I’ve been poisoned or anything. Nothing is hurt, well maybe except my pride. It was a stupid mistake and I messed up.”

Bruce leans forward as much as he can in the chair and pins Tim with a firm look. “You do understand the seriousness of this situation don’t you Tim? You may not feel anything right now but under no circumstances, as much as I hate to say it, you cannot go to sleep. We’ll be having a conversation on your performance once we know you’re safe and toxin free.”

Tim rolls his eyes in that typical defiant fashion that teenagers seem to have. “I know Bruce, I’m not stupid. I can help create the antidote. Also, I’m pretty experienced of working without sleep, I’ll be fine.”

“That's great except you’ve already pulled nearly two all-nighters prior to tonight.” A new voice joins their conversation. The two of them look over to see Dick walking towards them, glaring at Tim as he does so.

Upon hearing this Bruce rubs his forehead. So it’s going to be much harder to keep Tim awake than he thought because his son was already sleep deprived as it was. Keeping him awake for another 24 hours or so was going to be difficult.

Tim glares at his brother. “I’ve handled worse. I’ll be fine.” With that he storms off and heads towards the stairs in order to go up to the manor.

Bruce shares a look with Dick. “We’ll rotate people to keep an eye on him at all times. He can’t be allowed to sleep until we can clear the toxin from his body. It’s nearly done now anyway, another day then it should be complete, hopefully.”

Dick nods slowly. “Yeah, like I said he’s already running on fumes so it’s not going to be long until he crashes for good. If you and Alfred focus on the antidote then the rest of us will keep Tim awake. Please finish it soon.”

------

The day that follows is interesting for everyone. Much to his annoyance Tim was being watched like a hawk, anytime he even closes his eyes for more than two seconds someone was there either calling his name or physically shaking him.

This of course leads Tim to being snappy with anyone who was around him at the time, his tiredness was quickly coming through and it was clear he wanted to rest but could not do so.

Dick watches as Tim floats about the manor, going between the kitchen, library, bathroom and his bedroom. They’ve banned him from any form of training, saying that the exercise will tire him out quicker. In result Tim is working on WE reports and case files to fill up the time while the antidote gets made.

Dick joins Tim in the library and silently works on his own files while keeping an eye on his brother. It doesn’t go unnoticed on how Tim sometimes pauses as if he’s forgotten what he’s writing, or the way he stares at the page for a good five minutes before carrying on with the task.

Dick was getting worried because the sleep deprivation was clearly getting to Tim now and it’s only a matter of time before he crashes.

The two of them work in companionable silence until Tim groans and stands up to stretch. He looks over at Dick, “I’m going to get some food, want anything?”

Dick shakes his head. “No thanks.” He watches as Tim nods and begins to head for the door. He’s glad he had been watching Tim because after a couple steps Tim swayed on his feet and without even thinking about it, Dick jumps out of his seat and lunges for his brother. He reaches Tim just in time to catch him before he hits the ground.

Dick lowers them both to the ground and checks Tim over. “Tim, you okay? What’s wrong?”

Tim blinks at him owlishly for a moment and frowns, “I uh, I don’t… God the room just spun like crazy then and I lost my balance I guess.”

“That's the sleep deprivation, it’s really hitting you now. You just need to stay awake a little longer bud. Bruce is nearly done with the antidote.” God he hopes he is. Without any other words, Dick picks Tim up and takes him to the couch, putting him down gently.

Tim slumps into the cushions behind him and Dick feels terrible because he looks so wiped out and awful. He wants his brother to be healthy again. When Tim’s eyes close, Dick reaches out and roughly pats his cheeks. “Hey, none of that, not yet Tim okay.”

Tim noncommittedly hums as he pulls himself into an upright position and leans over his work again. Dick studies him for a moment before deciding to return to his own workstation. As he settles into the seat he sends Tim a look. “I’ll text Jay and see if he can bring in some food for us, perhaps a drink as well.”

When Tim doesn’t respond Dick shrugs it off and sends Jason the message. After that he cracks back on with his own work.

Time goes by and Dick soon realises he hadn’t checked on Tim for a while. He looks over to where the teenager was sat only to feel his heart stop inside of his chest. For a second time, Dick is lunging across the room to get to his brother, who was lying down on the couch with his face pressed into the cushions.

With one hand Dick reaches out to check for a pulse and with the other he scrambles to get his phone out of his pocket. Thankfully there’s still a steady beat underneath two of his fingers but he has no idea how long Tim had fallen asleep for. This was Dick’s fault, he should have been paying closer attention to his brother.

“Dick?” A voice calls for him through his phones speaker.

Dick frantically shouts into the phone while desperately trying to shake Tim awake. “Bruce please tell me you have the antidote ready! Tim’s fallen asleep and I have no idea how long he’s been like it!”

“Yes, it’s just been finished, we’re prepping a needle now. Where are you?”

“We’re in the library. Bruce hurry!”

“Alfred is on his way. There are precautions however because it hasn’t been tested-”

“Fuck the precautions Bruce! Tim is dying we need to save him!”

Bruce continues to speak on the phone but Dick wasn’t listening. He was too focused on his sleeping brother, worrying about how his body is going to shut down if he doesn’t wake up. Tim wasn’t waking up no matter what Dick tries.

“Master Dick, please allow me.” Dick looks up and is relieved to find Alfred approaching them. Dick shuffles to the side to make room for the butler and watches with an intense stare as Alfred takes Tim’s arm and injects him with the antidote. As soon as it’s administered Dick is asking questions.

“How long until it takes affect? Will it work? What if it doesn’t Alfred?”

A gentle hand on his arm stops him from rambling. “Master Dick, unfortunately all we can do is wait and see. Master Bruce is still in the lab triple checking it over but an estimation will be a few hours or so, especially considering how exhausted the lad is.”

Dick nods his head and takes a few deep breaths, willing himself to calm down and trust Alfred’s words.

The next few hours were awful. Dick could feel all of the anxiety, the anticipation and worry storming inside of him as he paces around the library waiting for Tim to wake up. In that time, Bruce had now joined them in the room along with Alfred and even Jason.

A small gasp soon gets his attention and Dick abruptly stops walking to stare at the couch where Tim was lying. Sparks of hope travel through him as he watches Tim stir and joy explodes in him when Tim’s eyes open up. Before anyone else could react, Dick was moving, making his way to the couch and pulling Tim into a fierce hug.

“God I was so worried! Never do that to me again baby bird.”

Tim’s only response is to loosely hug Dick back while he tries to wrap his head around what happened. Dick ignores it all, loving the feeling of having his brother back and mostly out of danger, they can deal with everything else soon enough.

#Whumptober2020 #day twenty three #sleep deprivation #Tim Drake #dick grayson #bruce wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #Damian Wayne #big brother dick #worry #bit angsty #poisonous toxin #panic #fanfiction #batfamily #sorry for the terrible summary

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taetaespeaches · 3 years

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favorite albums of twenty-twenty:

I’m indecisive, so disclaimer lol. But I wanted to be self-indulgent for a moment and share my very favorite albums of 2020. In a year where I felt both alone and lonely, music was massively important to me. I tried to limit this to my top ten but I’m too indecisive and a lot of amazing music came out this year so there’s eighteen albums lol. Why not. So yeah, enjoy or ignore, I just had the urge to do this. (This isn’t in order except BE, D-2, Maria, and Map of the Soul: 7 are all definitely in the top five.)

Also, if you see this and want to do your own, tag me! I’d love to see your top albums <3

↬ BE — BTS

⟶ Top tracks: Telepathy, Blue & Grey, Fly To My Room, Disease, Life Goes On

I mean come on. This was the pandemic album we all needed and I will forever be grateful for this masterpiece. I think this is an album that will grow with me and will kind of act as a companion throughout my life. The musicality, the lyrics, the variety, all of it, it’s just perfection. It feels like a friend who gives you comfort but also makes you confront your emotions, and that was everything I needed this year. I will forever be obsessed with this one. BE is my friend.

↬ D-2 — Agust D

⟶ Top Tracks: People, Moonlight, Daechwita, What do you think?, Dear my friend

Agust D came back and he fucking owned it. The amount of pure talent and passion in this mixtape is un-fucking-real. Yoongi is just unbelievably talented and this album perfectly displays that. Plus, these songs have been my ride or die since May, like, there isn’t a week that goes by that I don’t listen to this album in full at least once. Just incredible.

↬ María — Hwasa

⟶ Top Tracks: LMM, Maria, Intro: Nobody Else, WHY, I’m bad too

This album is so connected to my fucking soul. I swear, Ahn Hyejin and I’s emotions are so similar and the way we process them is soooo similar, this album just honestly means the world to me. Plus, it’s amazing. Every song is a masterpiece. Obsessed. Much like D-2, I listen to this album at least once a week. And the number of times I have cried listening to it is unreal. Intro: Nobody Else is very much how I felt this year and LMM has made me cry more times than I care to admit. This album makes me feel what I’m feeling, gives me comfort, and helps me pick myself back up again. Another one that will grow with me. This year through the loneliness and in times that I felt I had no one, this was my companion.

↬ MAP OF THE SOUL: 7 — BTS

⟶ Top tracks: Black Swan, Interlude : Shadow, My Time, ON, Friends, Moon, We are Bulletproof: the Eternal, Outro : Ego

Come onnnnnn. Perfection!!!! Quite literally the album that has been there with me through every step of this pandemic. I still cry watching the Ego mv. Why? No clue, just makes me sob tears of happiness. Black Swan? Possibly one of my very favorite songs EVER. OF ALL TIME. My Time? Relatable as fuck. Friends? The cutest thing I’ve ever heard. Moon? I’m sobbing again, that’s my emotional support Seokjinnie. Just, the album is a goddamn masterpiece, I don’t care who disagrees, my opinion is fact on this one.

↬ love is not dying — Jeremy Zucker

⟶ Top tracks: full stop, oh, mexico, hell or flying, lakehouse

Jeremy is another one that I just feel emotionally related too. Like I just get what he says and means and it hits me right in the heart and mind and gut. Another companion album. I think full stop is one of the most relatable songs I’ve ever heard- lyrically and the way it builds and becomes a bit chaotic… like whoah. I feel that in my chest. Also, oh, mexico is another song I related to so hard this year. This album has just made a massive impact on me and I love it.

↬ folklore — Taylor Swift

⟶ Top tracks: seven, peace, the lakes, the 1

So Taylor surprised everyone with an album. What the fuck, ma’am? This is my second favorite Taylor album to date, second to only her second surprise album of the year. Like what? I’ve cried listening to this album and absolutely sobbed listening to seven. She just really popped off with this one and I don’t think I need to explain to you all why this album is so good. If you’ve heard it, you know.

↬ evermore — Taylor Swift

⟶ Top tracks: ivy, cowboy like me, long story short, coney island, gold rush

Oh here we have another surprise album, and now my favorite album by Taylor. I think this album perfectly displays Taylor’s insane lyricism better than any of her works. This album just hit really different for me, every song was my favorite on first listen and I still have the hardest time picking favorite tracks. It’s just beautiful and it’s great and I love it a lot.

↬ SAWAYAMA — Rina Sawayama

⟶ Top tracks: Fuck This World (Interlude), Tokyo Love Hotel, Bad Friend, Comme Des Garçons (Like The Boys)

Have you heard it? If so, you know why it’s on this list. Pop perfection. Rina is a goddess. That’s that. It’s just amazing. Rina is a visionary and this album displays that perfectly. Comme Des Garçons was the first song of hers I ever heard and I was immediately obsessed. Next level, this woman. A queen.

↬ Petals For Armor — Hayley Williams

⟶ Top tracks: Crystal Clear, Why We Ever, Over Yet

Wow. Just, bless Hayley for this. Crystal Clear has quickly become one of my very favorite songs ever and Why We Ever is a little too relatable. And I distinctly remember hearing Over Yet for the first time in May and feeling joy for the first time since the pandemic started. This album is one to listen to when you’re mad, sad, when you need comfort, or when you’re ready to heal. Honestly, another companion.

↬ Nectar — Joji

⟶ Top tracks: Like You Do, Your Man, Sanctuary, MODUS, Run, Mr. Hollywood

I could honestly list nearly every song on this as a top song. Holy shit. Joji is another visionary. He’s insane and I’m obsessed with this album. I swear, every time I listen a new song jumps out as a favorite. Like You Do is a song that just means so much to me. A masterpiece. This album is my go to when I’m looking to get into my feels. Also Daylight isn’t listed in the top tracks but what a fucking bop. I’m just in love with this album. For real, obsessed.

↬ Plastic Hearts — Miley Cyrus

⟶ Top tracks: Angels Like You, High, WTF Do I Know, Midnight Sky, Never Be Me, Plastic Hearts

I’ve never been like an avid listener of Miley, just a few tracks, but this year I got more into her. And this album, goddamn. Every song is a contender for top track. How does that happen? Midnight Sky? Huge for me this year. Like I cannot tell you how massive of an impact this song made on me. Angels Like You is such a perfect song. High is a little too relatable. Just seriously, wow. Kind of speechless, I just adore this album.

↬ Positions — Ariana Grande

⟶ Top tracks: pov, obvious, 34+35

The way I cried my first time hearing pov. Ari what are you doing to me? That song is just such a beautiful way to look at love and this whole album is just so healing. A happy spot on this whole year. 34+35 is a thot anthem and I’m obsessed. This album is just another example of Ariana’s talent and we were all blessed to be able to hear it.

↬ CALM — 5 Seconds of Summer

⟶ Top tracks: Wildflower, Lover of Mine, Best Years, Teeth, High

I don’t care if y’all think it’s cool to like 5sos or not, this album is so fucking good. It far exceeded my expectations. Some of these songs are some of my favorites for the year. Wildflower is a fucking happy pill and Best Years makes me fucking cry. High is too relatable, and Teeth may as well have been written about me. And Lover of Mine perfectly relates to the most important relationship of my entire life. I’m gonna say it, Luke Hemmings is such an underappreciated lyricist. The man is good. I love this album a lot.

↬ Manic — Halsey

⟶ Top tracks: Finally // beautiful stranger, SUGA’s Interlude, Forever … (is a long time), 3am

I never really listen to Halsey so it took me a long time to give this album a try and wow I’m so glad I finally did. It became an instant fav. Honesty, anything Yoongi touches is a favorite for me so obviously that song would be in my tops, but Forever … (is a long time) is so relatable and just so fucking good. And Finally // beautiful stranger is honestly my favorite Halsey song ever. It’s stunning. This album is amazing. Period.

↬ Future Nostalgia — Dua Lipa

⟶ Top tracks: Pretty Please, Cool, Don’t Start Now

This album is just disco pop perfection and I’ve been obsessed all year. It’s the perfect album to listen to when you just wanna fucking dance and forget about all the shit that 2020 gave us. The perfect escape and it’s so so fun and the songs are just bops. I’ve probably listened to this album a hundred times because it’s just the perfect escape. If I wanna let go for a bit, this is my go to.

↬ Punisher — Phoebe Bridgers

⟶ Top tracks: I Know The End, Chinese Satellite, Garden Song

This album makes me feel some shit. Like holy hell we are in our feels. Phoebe’s songwriting is superb and these songs just hit. I honestly only listen to this album when I really need to get in touch with myself because it literally doesn’t allow me to avoid my feelings. But it’s pretty much perfection and I think it’s going to grow with me throughout the years. I just love it. I remember being blown away on my first listen, it’s just unbelievably good.

↬ Ungodly Hour — Chloe and Halle

⟶ Top tracks: Tipsy, Baby girl, Ungodly Hour

I don’t even know how to explain how good this album is. Like, have you heard it? You get it. These girls went the fuck off and all we can do is thank them for it. Thank you for your service ladies. This album is just a vibe from start to finish. And Ungodly Hour is one of the best title tracks of the year. That’s just that on that. Give them all the awards.

↬ IS ANYBODY OUT THERE? — DPR LIVE

⟶ Top tracks: OH GIRL, NO RESCUE NEEDED, KISS ME

This album isn’t just an album, it’s an experience. This man takes you on a musical journey. It’s a story. It’s flawless. I adore it. DPR LIVE is so underrated and I can’t wait for him to get the hype he deserves. This was the most surprising find this year and I’m so thankful I found it. Just so god. From start to finish, you just get sucked in and then it ends and you’re just left like, whoah. Amazing.

#ayyyy i can't sleep so i thought i'd post this since it's been in my drafts for a couple days #bc why not i guess #bullshitting with liv #you could say music was a lifeline more than usual this year #thankful to all the amazing artists who put out music this year #we all needed it #top albums of 2020

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 4 years

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WIP Wednesday, kind of!

for @grandthorkiday this year, I really wanted to finally finish the fic I started for it last year, but that didn’t happen because literally everything is happening at the same time this October and also it’s hard to focus on writing in general right now. but then I thought of this older Sakaar fic that has been vaguely on my “I’m almost positive this is practically done if I would just put some time and effort into finishing it (but it’s also totally possible it’s nowhere near as close to being done as I think it is)” list for ages, and I realized it totally fit the definition for Grandthorki, and I thought maybe I could finish that real quick instead!

...I couldn’t. there’s a lot more to this one that needs to be written than I kind of thought, in part because it’s so old I wrote it before Ragnarok ever came out, so it was based purely on the trailer (and then inspired by some speculation by @theotherodinson, I think), and to finish this fic I would first have to decide if it would be more straightforward to just keep going with my pre-Ragnarok speculation or change the setup a bit to fit the film. also I would have to turn a bunch of bullet points into an actual conversation that would have to...make sense? and, like, establish things? and that’s hard even when my brain isn’t busy constantly screaming.

but! I can post most of what I already wrote, just for fun and because at least this is something Grandthorki-related that I haven’t already posted elsewhere! knowing me this could backfire because then I won’t have as much motivation to try to finish it but on the other hand it’s been sitting at this exact level of unfinishedness for like three years so it’s probably not going to hurt.

warnings: I kind of don’t know what to say here because nothing actually happens but there’s a lot of discussion of rape and graphic violence, so...warnings for that!

[the basic premise/assumption here was that Thor ended up on Sakaar at some point in his search for the Infinity Stones, was forced into the Contest, and gradually gained more of the Grandmaster’s favor and attention because he’s Thor and he’s great at fighting. it’s probably been months at this point, he’s one of the Grandmaster’s champions, and that earns him a reward that he extremely does not want: a few hours with a sex slave, basically.]

The Grandmaster calls them his pets, sentient beings he keeps because they are pretty rather than for their fighting prowess, but the term seems only partially accurate given that it implies both ownership and some level of exclusivity. The latter, at least, seems to apply on a purely arbitrary basis according to the Grandmaster’s whims. There are other appropriate terms, certainly, and Thor has heard plenty from the guards and his fellow warriors. “Pleasure slave” seems to be the most accurate while still remaining within the bounds of marginal politeness.

“Grandmaster must like you special,” the guard says in a confiding tone as they walk. “This one used to be one of his favorite pets, all personal like—didn’t share him much, real picky about what anybody could do with him. Guess the mouthiness lost its shine. Oh yeah, that reminds me—” He digs into his bag and emerges with a handful of metal. “Boy’s really got a mouth on him, so use this when you get tired of it. Or if you wanna make sure he won’t bite; he still hasn’t learned his lesson on that either. Up to you though; walls are soundproof, so whatever you get up to won’t bother nobody else.”

It’s a gag, Thor realizes, reminded with a jolt of the muzzle he fastened on Loki before bringing him back to Asgard, and he cannot afford to think about Loki now. “Thank you,” he says as politely as he can, “but I have no need of…that.”

“You do, trust me,” the guard says. “Only way the boys have found to shut him up and stop him biting. Never met somebody who runs his mouth like that. Dunno why the Grandmaster liked him so long. Oh, and it opens, see—” He twists something at the side of the gag and part of the mouthpiece folds inward. Another twist and the opening widens, and it takes very little creativity to imagine how the mechanism would force the wearer’s jaw wide. “Careful with that, by the way,” the guard adds. “Two turns gets him open, three or four is good, keep going and you can dislocate his jaw—which is fine, fixed that before, it’s just the kind of thing you probably want to know you’re doing, right?”

Thor’s stomach turns over. When he is free of this place, he will come back to help the other slaves. He forces a smile. “I assure you, I do not need such an instrument.”

“You’ll thank me when you change your mind later,” the guard says, shoving the gag into Thor’s hand. Thor gives up and takes it, because if he has learned nothing else in the last few years he has at least learned the importance of picking his battles. “He hasn’t been fed today, either, so no worries he’ll puke on you. Might get him to cooperate if you promise him food after, but that never really works with this one, so, probably a waste of time. All up to you though. Anyway—” He puts a hand over the locking panel and the room’s outer door slides open. “I’ll lock you in, come get you in a few hours. Comms are open in case you need something. And ‘cause we get bored.”

“And if I prefer not to have an audience,” Thor says.

The guard snorts. “You been here this long and you don’t get how things work? In you go.”

Thor sighs and does as he’s bid. The outer door hisses shut behind him and the inner door slides open, revealing a modestly appointed bedchamber. The bed is the largest thing in it, a sturdy-looking wooden construction with prominent bedposts, but Thor’s attention is drawn immediately to the figure kneeling on the floor. He is facing away, though not by choice; his wrists are shackled behind his back and bound to a metal loop in the floor with a short length of chain. Thor has no doubt the positioning is deliberate, just another way of reminding the slave of his powerlessness. His shoulders are rigid, his fingers curled into fists—blue fingers, Thor notes, with black nails, and blue skin at the back of his neck under black hair. Probably Kree, then, which makes it a little odd that he is not being used in the arena, instead of…this.

Thor grimaces and moves to put himself in the slave’s line of sight.

[aaaaand naturally the slave is Loki, miraculously alive after dying in Thor’s arms on Svartalfheim! also he doesn’t recognize Thor at all and in fact remembers nothing prior to waking up half-dead on Svartalfheim and being scooped up by the Grandmaster somehow! this is all very upsetting for Thor! it gets more upsetting when, in the conversation I haven’t written, Loki starts working really hard to goad Thor into a temper and Thor realizes what he’s trying to do!]

“You want the gag,” Thor says finally.

Loki jerks back, his mouth snapping shut. He recovers quickly, his eyes crackling with anger, but he’s not quite fast enough to keep Thor from glimpsing a flash of fear underneath. “What I want is irrelevant. This is about what you want, that is the entire point, and I know your type, dozens of times over. You’re a warrior. You want to win. You want to hear me beg you to stop, to show mercy you delight in withholding. And I am telling you now, you can do anything you like but you will not hear me beg, not for anything. So use the damn gag.”

And with a flash of nauseating clarity Thor gets it, why Loki’s working so hard to goad others into forcibly shutting him up, because it’s the one tiny piece of control he has left. Unbidden, the image forces itself into his mind: Loki, eyes squeezed shut in pain, screaming into the gag and clinging to the very last scraps of his pride with the knowledge that if he breaks and begs for it to stop, no one will know—clinging to those scraps even though his defiance hurts him, because he has been left with nothing else that is still his.

[Thor gets real upset! upset enough to unlock his lightning powers without access to Mjolnir? yep!]

Loki’s red eyes widen, his bravado visibly wavering, and his voice shakes just a little as he says, “Well done, that’s actually a new one.”

“I’m sorry,” Thor says, “this will hurt, but I will be quick,” and he reaches out one crackling hand for the collar.

[Loki’s eyes widen etc. here instead probably] and he cringes away, raw panic breaking through his bravado, but if the guards are not already on their way they will be soon, and there is no time to spend on reassurances Loki will have no reason to believe anyway. Thor steels himself and lunges, seizing the chain at Loki’s wrists with one hand and his collar with the other, and Loki’s body snaps taut as lightning floods into him.

Once, over a century ago, a journey with Sif and the Warriors Three went disastrously wrong, resulting in Thor and Loki stranded alone on Muspelheim, relentlessly pursued by a dozen Fire Giants and unable to get far enough away to safely call on Heimdall. By the time the giants truly cornered them, they’d been running for three days straight without water or sleep, Loki’s magic was nearly depleted from several aborted attempts to hide them and open a pathway between realms, and Thor couldn’t draw down a storm from the painfully dry desert air. With no options remaining to them, Loki convinced Thor to channel the last dregs of Mjolnir’s lightning through Loki himself, in the theory that doing so might amplify what little remained of Loki’s magic and grant him the power needed to escape. It was a mad, desperate gamble that could have easily killed him and nearly did, but it worked, leaving Thor with—among other things—an unsettlingly precise knowledge of how much lightning Loki’s body could take without dying.

He has not thought of that incident in years, but he is glad of it now, especially without Mjolnir to help him control his power.

When everything clears, Loki is sprawled on his back, staring up at Thor and breathing hard, freed of all his bonds. His expression shifts through pain and fear and shock into confusion and then, finally, a faint glimmer of recognition, and he says hoarsely, “…Thor?”

Thor exhales, relief and battle-lust tangling inside him, and holds out his hand to help Loki up. “Come, brother. It’s time to get out of this place.”

Loki stares at him for a moment longer, his throat working, and then he reaches back and takes Thor’s hand.

#loki #thor #sakaar #fanfic #marvel cinematic universe #rape tw #grandthorki #occasionally I write things #sometimes I even finish them but not often #cw noncon implied #fic #text

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jenovahh · 4 years

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Comm 07 - NSFW - Outing

Rating: NC-17/Explicit Tags: Fem!WoL X Ardbert, Named WoL, Fluff, Smut, Mutual Masturbation

Notes: A commission from twitter!

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A gentle breeze blows into the cottage, carrying the smell of freshly chopped vegetables and sliced meat with it. Dainty hands neatly cut off the crust of bread just pulled out of the oven, placing them in a nearby bowl to give to the birds when she departs. The sun has almost climbed to the middle of the sky, the day is still fairly cool, but it’s still warm. As a result Calista has chosen to wear something lighter today. Her Dalmascan top paired with her Eastern skirt makes for a light, breezy look, as well as being comfortable.

Humming a light tune to herself, she cleans as she works, neatly tucking the sandwiches into a basket similar to the one the Exarch had given to her upon her arrival on the First. With the ease of practice does she neatly fold the paper to keep them covered, slipping the basket on her forearm as she prepares to step outside.

Locking up, the Norvrandt sun beats down on her fair skin, but she had used ointments from the first to protect it. Making sure her sandals are strapped well on her feet, she seeks out her amaro, giving it an affectionate pat as she carefully climbs atop its back. Balancing carefully, she manages to side saddle as to not have to deal with moving her skirt to get comfortable. With just a few words, her amaro responds in understanding, giving her an affectionate smile as it slowly stands on its hind legs and spreads its six wings. Giving a testing flap, it checks to make sure its rider will not fall before taking to the sky.

The wind blows through her bound hair, the ribbon fluttering haphazardly in the breeze as her amaro sails through the sky. Calista watches as the Crystal Tower grows only a little smaller as they fly deeper into Lakeland, her peridot eyes taking in the magical vista before her. She had always found Lakeland to be a gorgeous region, loving it’s soft lavender grass and trees native to the First. With Bismarck resting in the background in the pristine lake, it made for a vista that even a painting couldn’t capture. Even still, she hoped to perhaps ensnare its beauty somehow so that she may show her other companions on the Source back home.

The amaro gives a little chirrup as it begins its descent, signaling to her to hang tight to the reins lest she might slip off its back. Doing as told, she takes the leathery straps in hand as the amaro slowly begins its descent, landing softly on the lush grass below. Sliding off its back, she rubs it affectionately before fishing a spare sandwich she had stowed away as a treat. Her laughter bubbles up as the amaro happily nuzzles her before taking the sandwich from her hand and swallowing it in one gulp. Giving one last nuzzle, it settles down for a nap as she begins to make her way through the forest.

As she makes her way through, she takes just a few more moments to take things in. All she can do now in this moment is wait; wait for the Exarch and Urianger to figure out how to carry their souls home, wait for Y’shtola to make a breakthrough with their discoveries of what they had found below in Anamnesis Anyder. Part of her felt on edge sitting still for so long, with nothing to do. Garlemald seemed to be sitting on their hands in the loss of their emperor, and Elidibus didn’t seem keen on revealing his plans anytime soon. It was at the forefront of her mind most days, but he had always said she was quite the worrier…

“He”, her sweet Ardbert.

As she continues stepping over fallen trunks and other twigs, the sounds of metal striking rock reach her ears, along with the sound of masculine grunting. Her approach is silent compared to the sound of a pickaxe hitting stone, allowing her to engage in a bit of voyeurism before she makes her presence known.

Peeking from behind a tree, Ardbert swings his pick with more force, a determined look etched onto his manly features. Sweat beads at his brow with each swing, eyebrows pinched together as he wills himself to hit the rock harder. Calista can feel herself swoon as she watches the flex of his muscles beneath tanned skin, given that his arms are bare in his craftsman’s tank top. It was rare to see this much of him, given that the armor of a warrior covered just about all of him. She couldn’t help but blush a little at her blatant admiration of how handsome he was, that even though they had been married for just a while now, she still felt her heart flutter as if she had met him for the first time.

Ardbert mumbles something under his breath, tightening his grip on the pick before taking another mighty swing. The rock finally breaks under his effort and he lets out a laugh of success, reaching down to sift for ore. The smile on his face lets Calista know he had found what he had sought, satisfaction brightening his features. Standing tall, he drags his arm across his forehead, wiping at the sweat there. Just as he turns to gaze at the Crystal Tower in the distance, his eyes finally catch her in her hiding place.

“Oh, I was unaware I had an audience.” He teases, clearly able to see the way her cheeks color over being caught.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Calista tries, finally stepping from behind the tree, uplifting the basket. “And, I had brought lunch.”

The way his face lights up immediately fills her with joy, her eyes drinking him in as he all but drops his pickaxe to the ground in favor of meeting her halfway. Once in arm’s reach Ardbert wastes no time grabbing her by the waist and pulling her close. “Ardbert!” She shrieks, though her laughter is mixed in. “You will ruin my clothes, covered in all that dirt.”

“I’ll wash it when we get home,” he sighs into her hair, breathing her in. He hugs her tight, his arms curling around her.

“You will ruin your lunch as well if you are not careful,” Calista huffs, trying to meander the basket from between them.

“Did you only come out here to fuss at your loving husband?” Ardbert questions, pulling away for just a moment. Though it sounds like he genuinely asked, she can see how his lip quirk up in a smirk.

“I came here to give my husband a well deserved break.” She beams at him, eyes reflecting the blue sky. Saying nothing, Ardbert merely smiles as he drags a hand higher up her back, cradling her neck gently to press his lips to hers. Calista’s eyelids flutter closed immediately, focusing on their sweet kiss, giggling as Ardbert begins to pepper more across her face.

“You are a lovestruck fool,” she jests, finally pulling away to reach into her pack for a blanket.

“Full glad that I am.” He replies, taking the basket from her hands. Setting it down on the ground, he grabs the opposite end of the checkered blanket as they spread it out perfectly on the ground. Picking up the basket once more, he places it gingerly on the blanket, letting out a tired breath as he takes a seat.

Kneeling down, Calista begins to unpack the lunch. She chooses the sandwiches first, unwrapping the paper she so neatly folded a bell before. “You can start if you’d like. Surely, you are famished.” She urges, even going as far to pick up a sandwich and hand it to him.

With a gentle hand, Ardbert pushes it away. “Not so famished that I cannot wait a moment longer to share my wife’s cooking with her.”

Calista’s face flushes red immediately, surely to her hairline. Somehow hearing it from his lips, the words “my wife” set her face aflame. Ardbert laughs at her expense as she brings her hands to her cheeks, feeling their warmth. “Have I embarrassed you, my love?” he asks.

“Not at all!” Calista denies, fanning her cheeks lightly with a pout. ‘It is still just...new to hear you call me--”

“My wife?” He repeats, intentionally with a growl. He leans forward to tease her with kisses again, until the both of them are shaking with laughter. “If it helps, know I feel similarly when you refer to me as your husband.” With one last kiss on her lips, Ardbert helps reach over to pull out the freshly squeezed lemonade she had made that morning. It’s thankfully still cold, Ardbert pouring them each a glass as they settle down to eat.

Adjusting to ingredients on the First would’ve been difficult were it not for the Exarch’s help in teaching her about the variety of plant life here. What kind of wife would she be if she could not cook a meal for her and her husband? Granted she is not the average wife in the least. Most women are not dancing between shards, saving two worlds, striking down Ascians, and dismantling empires with their bare fists.

And most women certainly don’t get to marry their literal soulmate.

The two are content to eat in companionable silence, speaking up only if one of them has something on their mind. No longer shouldered with the burden of a slowly dying star, the happier notes of Ardbert’s personality shine through, making her fall in love with him a little more each time. As they finish up their lunch, they pack it back up in the basket to set it to the side.

Ardbert scoots closer to Calista, beckoning her to lie down beside him so that they can watch the clouds float by. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, she lays her head on his chest, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes soothing her ever weary nerves. His hand lightly brushes through the length of her ponytail.

“It’s a beautiful day out,” Calista observes, her fingers dancing in nonsensical patterns across his torso. She can feel the tough muscle even through the fabric of his tank top, feel the hills and valleys of his abs beneath her hand.

“That it is.” He breathes, pressing her a bit closer to him. They sit in silence a bit more as Calista’s fingers continue their tickling, until she lays her palm flat to his stomach to get a better feel. She not just hears, but feels Ardbert’s breath hitch as she smooths her hand across his muscles, feel how he tenses beneath her.

Face warming, she lets her wayward hand stray up toward his chest, slowly growing bolder with her affections. She feels Ardbert shift beneath her, feels his arm work its way from under her head. Sitting up, she prepares to ask if something is wrong before she is brought back down, his lips crashing into her hungrily.

Their tongues dance together, Ardbert’s hunger pulling her under as he wraps both his arms around her. “Did you come out here just to tease me, my love?” He rasps, trailing heated kisses from her lips to her jaw, his hands slipping downward until they reach her backside and give a firm squeeze.

Calista gasps with the motion, arching into him as her hands flatten on his chest. Pressed close now, she can feel what her earlier attentions were doing to him, her face heating. Ardbert continues to trail down to her neck, his hands coming to her front to push the straps of her top down her shoulders. She moans as she arches into his touch, her own hands getting bolder as they dance downward to cup him through his pants. The moan he rewards her with spurs her on, her hand giving a firm squeeze, his hips jerking into her hold.

“I really had,” she gasps as his thumb flicks across a nipple, “come out here to bring you lunch,” she whimpers as he continues to toy with her nipples, his lips still pressing wet kisses to her feverish skin.

“Truly?” He doubts, cupping a breast in each hand. “With nothing to bind your breasts? No smallclothes?”

She pauses her fondling to smack him in reprimand. “This top is to be worn without one!” She huffs angrily, though it is snuffed out as he squeezes her breasts in hand.

“And I am glad for it.” He shifts so that his mouth can now place kisses in the valley between her breasts, but no lower. “I don’t think I have the patience or the energy right now to get you out of them.” He sucks and nibbles at her fair skin, uncaring of making a mark; in fact, she is sure that is what he means to do. “Though the length of your skirt is proving somewhat troublesome,” he grunts, nearly fumbling to get his hand under it. His hand is a furnace to the skin of your thigh, his fingers giving a possessive squeeze on the supple flesh.

“One of us should have some propriety,” She sighs into his mouth even as her hand fumbles with his pants, eventually loosening them enough to slip a hand inside. It is searing, but she is undeterred, unsatisfied until she is able to get her hand around his hardening length. The way his hips buck into her touch never fails to excite her, her hand working him slowly.

“You are so beautiful,” Ardbert rasps, pausing his exploration of her body to help undo his pants further to finally free his cock to the open air. He doesn’t bother to hide his impatience as his hands creep back under her skirt, caressing her wetness through her small clothes.

“Should we not wait,” she gasps as he finds her clit, pressing gently, yet firmly enough it divests her of speech.

“I am far past waiting,” he moans as her hand tightens around him, his lips seeking out hers again. The kiss loses its former grace in exchange for raw passion, their tongues twining together, teeth nibbling at one another as they rock into each other’s hands. They are deep enough in the forest that no one should come across them, so she doesn’t stop him when his fingers push her smallclothes aside, feeling how much she desires him for himself.

“You are lovely,” he groans, circling her clit delicately. His touch is still careful, as they are still learning each other’s bodies, learning what each other likes. She enjoys finding how much pressure makes him squirm, what parts to squeeze that has him gasping her name.

Calista could feel the pleasure taking over quickly, the burning in her belly coiling tight as it prepared to explode. “Ardbert,” she whimpers, pumping him faster in her hands. His fingers have slipped inside her, her walls stretching around them, leaving her unable to do much else save for moaning into his mouth. He greedily drinks down every whimper, every moan, gasping her name as they both teeter on the edge of completion.

Calista cries out as her orgasm washes over her, her eyes shut tight as the pleasure surges through her, winding her tight like a coil and finally setting it free. Even through her haze, she still works Ardbert to completion, sighing his name as if in a dream, his moans music to her ears as she finally drags him into sweet, sweet oblivion alongside her.

His seed spills between them, making a mess, but that is something to worry about later. For the moment, they are content to merely lay in the afterglow, basking in the warmth of the sun and each other.

Ardbert is the first to move, straining his neck to place a small kiss to her forehead, chuckling with the effort. “I think I’ve gone and gotten you dirty along with me,” he breathes into her hair, before sitting up. Reaching toward the basket, he fiddles around until he finds a spare cloth napkin, cleaning off her skirts and hands before finally tending to himself.

“I suppose we should return home, eh?” Ardbert grunts as he stands to his feet, hand outstretched for Calista to take. Placing her smaller hand in his larger one, he pulls her up with minimal effort. “And perhaps, we might continue lunch there.” He grins with a wink, laughing as she once again blushes bright red.

“You are insatiable!” She smacks him playfully on the shoulder but still he whimpers at the strike, nursing the affected area with a free hand.

“Is it so wrong to want to spend time with my wife?” He purrs, reaching out to bring her against him.

“Only when your wife seems to not know a moment's peace because someone can’t keep their hands to themselves…” she murmurs slyly, giving him a knowing look. “Will you help me pack up?”

“Depends.” He says, even as he bends down to begin folding the blanket. “What’s in it for me?”

“Well, the sooner we pick up our things, the sooner we might head home…” Calista trails off, giggling as Ardbert hastily gathers the blanket together and folds it in record time. The blanket is back in her pack, and the basket’s belonging safely tucked back inside. “Did you walk here?”

Ardbert shakes his head as he goes to pick up his pickaxe and strap it onto his back. “Seto had actually flown me here early this morn. Though the hour has grown late, I think he should still be close by…though I would not be opposed to us making use of the aetheryte system to get home a little quicker…” He trails off as he gives Calista a playful pinch on her rear cheeks.

Swatting his hand away playfully, Calista giggles as she lets him pull her close. “As you wish.” With home in her mind’s eye, Calista feels the magic spin around them, whisking them away house and home.

#Ardbert #FFXIV #ff14 #Final Fantasy XIV #Final Fantasy 14 #Writing #ffxiv writing #Comms #commissions

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cathrynkenobi11love · 4 years

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A/N: I know these first few chapters probably feel dry and boring, but It's all important character development, I promise. They become important in the future.

I laid back in my chair in the hanger twirling a wrench around my finger. "R8, what does a Jedi padawan do when they are so bored they feel like sleeping would bring them enjoyment?" I asked and R8 beeped the answer 'sleep'. "Wow, your really helpful." I said sarcastically. "Hey, isn't that Anakin?" I ask, pointing at a speeder that has Anakin in it. "He's flying to the Senate building, but why?" I ask. "Your the one who's bored, maybe you should follow him." R8 beeped and I shook my head. "No way, I hate politics." I said and laid back. My comm clicked and I sighed. "Well, the council's calling. Yay for me!" I said sarcastically an headed to the Jedi temple.

I walked into the council room to see my master. "You called me master?" I asked. "Yes I did. Your bored, are you not?" He asked. "Uh, yes, I am." I said. "Good, I have a mission for you. With Anakin and Senator Amidala." He said and I put my hands up. "Oh no, I'm not getting involved in politics. I hate politics." I said. "Well, last I checked, I'm your master and it's my decision to make." Obi-Wan said and I sighed. "I hate you." I grumbled and left the room quickly, passing an angry looking Padme and Anakin on the way.

----- ----- -----

"I hate this, I really really hate this." I said as I fidgeted with my Naboo uniform. "You hate this too Anakin, right?" I ask him, but he seems distracted. "Anakin? Hello?" I said, waving a hand in front of him. "Alright don't talk to me." I said and sighed. In front of us, Padme and Senator Clovis come up and I try to look like a normal guard. Anakin, on the other hand, doesn't even try to do anything. "What is your problem!" I say and we walk onto the ship. As we lead the senators to their seats, Anakin runs forward and pulls down one of the seat rests. "Allow me my lady. Oh, and this ones, broken. Too bad." He said and I noted he broke the rest himself. I tilted my head then shrugged and walked away to the cockpit. I started to slip into the Pilot's seat but Anakin pushed me out of the way. "I drive." He said and sat down, clicking on the cameras to the senators. I groaned and slumped into my seat, sticking my tongue out as Clovis began to try and kiss Padme. I had to then grip the edge of my seat as Anakin jolted it to the side. "Anakin! What are you doing!" I yelled and glared at him. "Oops, sorry." He said and glared at the cameras. I looked from the cameras to him then smirked. "Oh, I get it. Someone's got a crush on the Senator." I said and he looked startled. "What? Of course not! I have no idea what your talking about Ashlynn." He said and turned back to the controls. "Okay." I said and smirked mischievously.

When we landed on Cato Neimoidia, Anakin, Padme and Clovis all rushed out and I sighed. "Are you kidding? I have to take care of the luggage on my own now? This day just keeps getting better and better." I said to myself and grabbed the bags. As I stumbled down the stairs of the ship I came to Anakin. "Hey, Anakin, can you take some of these-" He walked off, ignoring me. "Jerk." I mumbled and kept struggling to walk with the luggage.

The servants lead Padme, Anakin and I all to our rooms and I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. "You know, I really am going to get Obi-Wan back for this." I said and got off the bed, walking over to Padme. "Ashlynn, it was a long ride, I think I need a walk." She said and left the room. "Bu-bu-but you have to unpack your things!" I called after her. "You can do it." She said and gave me an encouraging smile. "Ugh! 'Ashlynn do this', 'Ashlynn do that', do things for yourself senator!" I yelled and started unpacking the clothes. When I finished, R8 came over to me with a plate of food. "No thanks R8, I'm not hungry." I said. "As soon as Senator Amidala finds something, she's gonna signal me to come to her." I said, resting my head back in the chair I'm sitting on.

"Can I sleep now?" I asked Anakin and he sighed. "Fine, go sleep. You would make a terrible guard you know." Anakin said. "What? I'm the one who did all the work today!" I said but he was already gone. I sighed and went to my quarters, flopping on the bed and falling right to sleep.

----- ----- -----

"Ashlynn get up!" I woke up to see Senator Amidala's face and groaned. "How much sleep did I get, an hour?" I asked. "No, actually you got about 30 min. We have to go now though." Padme said and grabbed my wrist. I groaned and strained my uniform, then left the room to go to dinner. "Senator, as my honored guest, please share this drink with me." Senator Dod had a glass in his hand and was going to share it with Padme, but I didn't know that. I was too thirsty to pay attention. "A toast to our new friendship." He said and I grabbed it out of his hand. "Thank you, I'm so thirsty!" I gulped down the rest of the drink and they all glared at me. "What?" I asked. "Ashlynn, that was for me." Padme said and my leku darkened from embarrassment. "Sorry." I said and stared at my toes.

After dinner was over, I stood up from my chair and began to feel lightheaded. "Ashlynn, are you alright?" Padme asked me. "Oh, yeah, just worn out I guess. It was a long day." I said and she nodded. "How about you head back to the room, Clovis is going to give me a tour of the place." She said and I nodded. "Thank you Senator." I said and left for the room.

As I got into my room I walked over to R8 and kneel down in front of him. "Time to shut down R8, pick a spot." I told him like I do every night he has to shut down. He picks a spot in the corner of the room and I get to my feet and start to walk over there. I then feel lightheaded again, and grabbing my head I collapse to the ground, fainting.

----- ----- -----

My vision was blurring but it soon cleared as I opened my eyes. I saw Padme, Anakin and Clovis were all arguing, and I felt very weak, like I was dying. "Anakin, what's happening?" I asked him. He turned away from Clovis and rushed over to me. "It's okay Ashlynn, you were just poisoned, accidentally. Were going to save you though, I promise." He told me and I nodded, resting my head back and sighing. Worst day ever, that's for sure. Anakin scooped me up in his arms and I grabbed his neck for a tighter grip. He took me out of the room and down the stairs and I faintly heard the sound of them talking. "I'm sorry, Lott, Ashlynn is very ill and we're taking her to her ship." Clovis was saying. "If Ashlynn is ill, she should not be moved." Lott said. "I have contacted the authorities on Naboo. They thought it best to take her back to Coruscant. The doctors there are better equipped." Clovis responded. "You cannot leave!" Lott yelled and I heard noise that sounded like guns. "Give me the antidote or you're dead!" Clovis yelled and I opened my eyes enough to see him pointing a gun at Lott. "You'll pay for this." Lott said and pulled out the antidote. "Your kindness is much appreciated Senator." He growled and turned to Padme. "This should save your friend, now go!" He said and she nodded and Anakin ran off with me. I closed my eyes again and gritted my teeth. I needed that antidote now!

"Wait! Give me back my disk!" Clovis was yelling to us as we boarded the ship. "Don't worry, Clovis. It's good to know you have a heart. I wish I could give you the disk, but I have a lot of faith in your survival skills." Anakin said and I inwardly thought about how much I could get at him for this once I'm better. The door closed and Anakin laid me down on a medical bed. "Where's that medicine Padme?" He asked her and she handed him a vial. "I'm sorry." I told them and they looked at me, confused. "What for? For drinking that drink? It could have been Padme that was poisoned tonight, but you saved her. You also took care of everything else tonight, and I'm grateful for that." Anakin said and I smiled, drifting off to sleep.

----- ----- -----

"Obi-Wan! You are really going to get hell from me!" I yelled to myself when I woke up and R8 told me I had to stay in bed for weeks. "Come on, let's go get Anakin and Padme." I told him and went to the cockpit. I opened the door and gasped at what I saw. Anakin was kissing the senator! "Anakin!" I yelled and he looked at me in fear. "Please don't tell anyone!" He said and I smirked. "Of course I won't tell anyone, the question is, tell them what?" I asked and they exchanged glances. "Were married." They said in unison and my jaw dropped.

"WHAT!?!"

#anidala #anakin x padme #ashlynn is the ultimate shipper #ashlynn knows!#ashlynn tano #oc #anakin hates clovis #padme #give ashlynn a break

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thedistantstorm · 5 years

Text

Phoenix Protocol 05

When the Traveler’s Light was returned to the Guardians after the defeat of the Cabal, it did not manifest itself the same in everyone. Miyu, an Awoken Warlock, finds herself struggling with her abilities, her Light feeling different and not her own. With her Vanguard preoccupied with grief and all eyes turned to the Reef, she finds herself turning to an unlikely source in an attempt to rediscover her connection to the Light and define what it means for her as a Dawnblade.

Previously

She doesn't actually get a free chance to see the Commander (in which he is also free for more than a polite greeting) for more than a week after attending his Titans’ workshop. Ikora sends her into the maw of Saturn, to experience the Tangled Shore. Her tasks include collecting Hive specimens and neutralizing priority targets.

It also includes seemingly endless combat. The Hive are relentless. In the shadow of the Dreadnought they fight the Scorn, pausing only to combine forces against her. There is no safe place, the further she tunnels into the caverns of festering husk and larvae, to heal should she need it. Her rift can still heal bullet holes, but not her charred arm in addition to them. Certainly even less under live fire.

She’s fought the Hive for centuries, it feels. Her sword is voracious enough that she feels comfortable cutting through them, for the most part. But their numbers are uncountable here. Where one falls, three take its place.

The result is slow-moving progress and several (very) desperate attempts to shield Ghost while he heals her failing body. Miyu returns to Ikora precisely ten days, three hours and four minutes after she'd been deployed. Ikora looks unimpressed.

Miyu is too groggy to give a damn, having had Ghost auto-pilot her return from the Shore just so she could actually sleep. While Guardians could exist without, sleep was essential to peak performance, and everyone knew it. She shifts uncomfortably in her Hive-ichar stained robes, waiting for Ikora to dismiss her so she can shower and sleep in her own bed.

Ikora does not do any of those things. Ikora instead determines that she should go to Mars, and assist with containing the Hive there.

“More Hive,” Miyu comments drollishly before she can help herself. It comes out in her featherlight voice though, so it doesn't sound so patronizing.

“Grey, the Hive -” Miyu clenches her fists, and Ghost's presence in her mind attempts to flood her with calm while Ikora speaks, “- want your Light. They are drawn to it. Your Light will protect itself, though you. Unfortunately that means putting yourself in harm's way, but for the greater good.”

Miyu sighs and nods. She knows this. She’s done research on the subject herself. Enough research for all of her lifetimes.

“Only for a few days,” Ikora tells her. “To give me time to see about other arrangements. Return to me at the end of the week.”

On Mars, she summons her sword. Her vision burns white - still a single candle. She cannot see, but the sword she's trying to throw is too heavy to lift with one arm - and the flames in her vision are hot agony as they consume. She blinks back to herself, her body ablaze. A Severing Knight slices her clean through. It's a mercy.

Ten hours later, it's a Hive Wizard who blasts her across Hellas Basin when she tries to call upon her abilities once more. She looks like a comet, a streaking, dying star. She wakes up with Ana Bray beside her, discussing something animatedly over quiet comms.

“Send her home, Anastasia.”

“Hey, I'm not about to argue with you on this one,” The Hunter shoots back quickly. “I know that worried-angry voice of yours.”

“You do,” He rumbles, “And yet you purposely ignore it when you defy me.”

She laughs nervously. “I mean, it's in the name of the greater good, Zavala -” Said Titan growls, just enough to be picked up over the line “- alright, fine,” The overzealous Hunter relents for once. There's a pause. Miyu can see the shadow of someone leaning over her through her closed eyelids. “I think she's waking up.”

There's a twitch between her palms that lets her know Ghost is cradled between her hands. She barely, gently, squeezes and releases him, groaning as she attempts to rise. Ana puts a hand behind her, to prevent her from falling back on what she assumes is supply crates.

“Easy,” The Hunter encourages. “That wasn't a good trip.”

Ghost flutters around her and nods. She blinks over to him and he twists anxiously, looking like he's about to speak.

“You’re coming back to the Tower,” Zavala's voice calls over the comms. “This is madness. If Ikora has an issue, I will address it myself.”

Ana flips the mute switch. “He's… really angry.” She flips it back.

“Commander-”

“That is an order.”

Miyu sighs. “Understood.”

“Report to me when you get settled,” Zavala instructs. “I will be waiting.”

He cuts the line after that. Miyu doesn't get a chance to thank Ana before she's brushed aside by some chattering of Rasputin that sounds apparently very important to the crypto-linguistic researcher. For the best. She feels like garbage, but at least Zavala made it sound like she might be able to change into something clean before parading through the Tower.

It's late when she takes the lift up to the top level of the Tower. She checks his post first, but he's gone. Ghost steers her toward the command centre next, looking for the frequency of the Commander's ghost in a wide, sweeping scan.

Her robes are clean, unremarkable ones, devoid of armor beneath. It is never too late for a fight, Shaxx would say, but she wants nothing more than a warm mug of tea and a good night's sleep. The command centre is mostly empty, so she realizes it must be later than she thought.

Zavala sits at the end of a long table, mug beside him and tablet propped up on a large palm. His eyes rise to meet her when she enters the room, and he motions to the seat beside him before finishing what he's doing.

She obliges him and sits quietly. Ghost appears in a flutter of sparks. “Ikora,” He says, minding his volume, “Received word that you returned early. She is unhappy-”

Miyu sighs. “Tell her I will see her in the-”

“That,” A serious voice calls from behind Zavala, “Is unnecessary. I'll have answers now.”

The Commander sets down his tablet, powering it down without looking. “I called her back,” Zavala says, turning in his chair. “Do you require her for a task?”

Ikora looks exasperated. “Her training is necessary, Zavala. What business-”

“Her training nearly saw her ghost razed by Splinter Knights. I am removing her from active duty.”

“Grey needs the exposure.” Ikora's golden gaze cants over the quiet Warlock.

Zavala bristles before the thought occurs to Ikora's exhausted subordinate. “Her name is Miyu, and she needs time to heal.”

Miyu's hands twitch under the table. Ghost looks at her before regarding the other two Guardians. The tension is palpable between them.

“You are an expert on Dawnblades, are you?”

“No,” Zavala concedes, “But-”

“But nothing,” Ikora snips. “Grey,” She says, the moniker acidic on her tongue, “You will return to Mars.”

Miyu does not move, even before Ghost tells her to stay silent through their neural link. This is not about her, he imparts to his charge, not really.

“No,” Zavala refutes. “She will not.”

Ikora snarls at that, and the hungry-angry-cold ripple of her power is felt by everyone in the room. She reigns it in seconds later. “Is she allowed in the Crucible, then? Or is that too much for her, too?” Cold eyes slide over the Awoken Warlock's face, her posture bowed. “Think of how it must sound to her, listening to us quarrel. What an impact you're making, Zavala.” Her patronizing tone is honeyed and that much more rage inducing.

Zavala clenches his fists. “If you desire it, she will report to the Crucible at first light,” He tells Ikora. “You may otherwise proceed how you wish, but any missions - recon or otherwise - will be approved by me.”

Ikora whirls around and stalks away. She does not dignify him with a response.

When it's just the two of them, Zavala reclines in his chair with a restrained sigh. Miyu purposely looks away, despite straightening her posture.

After some time, he speaks. “What happened today,” Zavala says, “I don't believe it was benefiting you. I am sure Ikora has your best interests at heart, however…”

“Sending her to Mars was foolish,” Ghost chimes, hovering over the desk.

When that brings the Commander's gaze upon her, Miyu blushes.

“What do you think?” He asks her, slowly. His bright eyes search her face. “Everyone else has spoken. What say you?”

Miyu chances a look into his luminous glowing eyes. She sighs. “I think-” She grimaces. “I do not wish to make things worse between you and Ikora.”

“Nevermind that,” Zavala replies. His voice is stern. “You are the one who does not feel like yourself. What do you need?”

Ghost blinks over at her. She sighs and rises to her feet. Her quiet voice carries well in the silence. She paces, speaking, “I'm not sure, but… Can we go elsewhere? There is something that happened, during the training… and on Mars and I... I would like to discuss it with you.”

The Commander's brow furrows, but he acquiesces, rising to his feet. “Lead the way.”

#commander zavala #oc: miyu #zavala x oc #zavala x female guardian #destiny fanfiction #collection: phoenix protocol

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pink-is-for-altean-goths · 6 years

Text

day 7: sacrifice

I churned out a quick!fic for todays last prompt

Allura took a deep breathe to steady herself. Her pod was ready and everyone was counting on her to do this. Dread had settled in her stomach like curdled milk from Kaltenecker. You didn’t exactly get use to that feeling although the familiarity numbed some of her nerves. But today she’d be shielded by no lion; surrounded by no friends.

“Allura---wait””

She stopped beside the pod and turned to see Keith. Despite the circumstances she smiled; finally again he wore white and red, his helmet tucked under his arm.

He briskly crossed the distance between them in the hanger. He opened his mouth to say something then thought better of it. As usual his eyes were intense but he said nothing.

“Yes? Keith?” she asked, hand still on the pod’s cold exterior.

He straightened his shoulders but still struggled with his words. “I--.You.” He pressed his lips together.

You cannot possibly go down there; the path alone is treacherous, the old woman had said across the screen. It’d been only a little over two weeks since she’d last seen Hys. You’ve not nearly finished your training!

None of the others can get here nearly in time. And we haven’t found Haggar’s location yet. I have to try.

Elipta was a highly populated planet, as were the surrounding ones; it wasn’t enough to god-speed the coalition forces out of the area. If the planet was going to die by Altean hands and Altean tech then it was only right that an Altean try to stop it (lest Elipta become like Altea; if she should fail perhaps her conscious would at last be at peace with the guilt of never protecting her home and satisfied with dying, if not with than at least like her people).

“We’ll keep your path clear so you can get down there. But once you do you’ll be on your own.” Apparently Keith’s fallback in losing his resolve to say whatever he had come to say was to repeat the mission plan. She couldn’t help but feel a kind of sympathy to him and the Galra soldiers fighting outside. Zarkon had sent them on a clear suicide mission: Haggar was somehow evading detection and detonating the bomb remotely. From the outer reaches of the safe zone to orbit around Elipta, cruisers were on the offense holding down the coalition forces. If the coalition reatreated then the cruisers would destroy Elipta, Nectya, Pul’I and their moon colonies. If they didn’t, Haggar’s detonation of the Altean terraforming core would. Although it seemed counterproductive to sacrifice their own soldiers to the bomb it was apparently a trade off Zarkon was willing to make. And as always the Galra did what they always had excelled at: follow orders and carry on with the mission. It was, ironically, something she admired in Keith once she became able to discern it for what it really was.

“Of course.” She replied and waited.

His expression softened, “You’re sure you can do this?” He asked more quietly.

She nodded. “I have to-“

“Can you?” He cut her off glaring. No ‘I have to try’; There was no point in attempting it unless it was possible. No symbolics. No martyrdom. Dying in vain in a war was not only useless but selfish.

Allura turned and faced him fully.

Power means nothing, Hys had told her on Pollux, unless you know how to use it. But once you know where power lies and how it flows you can be as strong as any enemy. You can turn their power back on them and you can use their strength to cut them off from the source of their own power.

“In truth,” she admitted. “I’ve never even attempted to defuse an Altean alchemic bomb, and certainly not one of Haggar’s design-“

“Then why-“

“Because Keith,” she said stepping forward and cutting him off. “I have to try. Please understand; wouldn’t you do the same if you knew you might be able to do it?”

Might. As in, a Galra fighter jet might break through a crusier’s shield and disrupt a magic ceremony about to turn a planet to a bomb that would destroy not only your friends but the vast majority of your forces.

Might. As in, you might be able to get into Zarkon’s ship undetected and upload a virus to disable the ship’s system because you’re Galra and can interact with their technology.

Might. As in, he can still see the back of a member of the Blade as Kolivan grabs him by the front, lifting him away as he runs from the deck.

“Might” as in, “might be able to override the ship’s self-destruct sequence.”

Keith shuts his eyes. Sacrifices came in all sorts. Sometimes it meant letting someone else take the risk.

When he opens them Allura is still there, determined, sad, and pleading all at once.

“Alright,” he says, too easily for what it weighs. “Alright.”

“Thank you,” Allura whispers back quietly, still feeling a quaking fear in her palms and back. She wishes she could say yes, yes I can do this, yes I know for certain. She doesn’t know she can but she really believes she might be able to.

Lance was against it. I’d rather you weren’t down there alone, but if anyone can do it it’s you.

Hys already made her stance clear. I would never have a mage so inexperienced attempt such a thing....but if you must, I will guide you as much as I can.

Pidge and Hunk vouched their support in tiny hopeful voices, almost croaking with tears.

Shiro was still and silent over the comms before acquiescing to Allura’s plan. The most emotional thing he said was “be careful” but despite his outward calm, Shiro was an open book. Even though they weren’t face to face she could feel him swallowing down his own feelings of fear for her.

Coran had hugged her for longer than they could afford.

She turned to get into the pod when Keith grabbed her wrist.

“Come back to us,” he said, gripping her wrist tight enough to feel it through her armour. “I know you can’t promise anything but-“

As usual, it is her that throws herself into his arms. For a moment she lets herself take what she wants and squeezes against him, unafraid at the moment to let the side of face press against her own while she buries into the crook of his neck.

This time his hands are more than a gently presence on her back. This time he squeezes back.

“I will,” she says even though they both know not to make promises. “I’ll come back to all of you.” She says a new fire kindling in her bones. She can feel it now: it feels like it could happen. Not will; just could.

“I will,” she says again.

Keith doesn’t believe or deny it. He knows he should feel afraid for her like everyone else. But he knows he’s been in her place. He tries to cast out the image of Allura’s back at the helm of a Galra ship ready to blow as Kolivan drags him away, the doors shutting in slow motion and instead remembers what it was to rev a fighter and dive headlong to Haggar’s ship.

If Allura can’t, if she doesn’t—he will.

#day 7: sacrifice #kallura #fanfic #kalluravalentinesweek2018

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elitaxne · 6 years

Text

┊❛ CONSPIRACY ❜

♖. }

❝ If history is anything to go by I predict you will all be severely disappointed... Were something SUBSTANTIAL to have happened to either of them we would have heard by now, ❞ Councillor Merga drawled, taking another puff of his third cygar, flicking the ashy end into the collecting bowl. ❝ It is most likely the result of the virus that has been going around, and since she is BONDED with the Prime they rushed to Emergency to assure it would not affect him... ❞ he finished, expelling the bitter smoke from raspy vents.

❝ But, Merga, you weren’t there with her --- you didn’t see her. She looked like the Pit, worse than I’ve seen anyone afflicted with any virus, ❞ the younger mech continued, fidgeting with his stylus, ❝ If someone would’ve said she was dying I’d have believed them... ❞ he shivered, quickly taking a gulp of lukewarm mid-grade, trying to clear his processors of the sickly image.

❝ I do not think we would be lucky enough for that... ❞ a slightly older femme whispered to the same-aged Councillor beside her, who chuckled lowly with a knowing gaze. While their bets remained on a sudden spark-attack they knew better than to get their hopes up, Elita and Optimus remained unfortunately healthy mecha; plus hard to kill, they had survived the war after all...

Neon optics rolled at his colleague’s commentary, and Merga continued reading through his data pad with a dull even BORED expression. Everyone at the Towers had become mindlessly obsessed with the First Chair and Prime ever since Elita’s sickness a few hours ago. While their meeting had the intention of discussing the latest international trade proposal, it had been placed on hold --- along with the entire PLANET for that matter --- Cybertron came to a complete stop ever since news broke. And he couldn’t escape the madness despite his best efforts.

❝ Sh, sh, sh, quiet it’s back on !! ❞ an older mech cut in, waving the end of his cygar to Starburst at the opposite end of the table, ❝ Hey, Sweetspark, turn the volume up a bit will you? ❞

The red femme begrudgingly complied with a scowl, dragging a digit tip over the control screen just as the broadcast credits came to view. It took every ounce of strength NOT to leap across the table and defend Elita, but doing so would only make things worse --- her duty was simply to take notes for Elita if the meeting ever did occur. At least Merga remained civil, oddly enough, dutifully working on the trade proposal like they were suppose to be doing... at least, that’s what she assumed. Whatever it was he was reading and writing he seemed more invested in than the newscast.

[ Anchor ] >> For those of you just joining us here is the developing situation: Just before mid-day today Councillor Elita-1 fell violently and suddenly ill while in the Council Towers, and was promptly admitted to the clinic alongside Optimus Prime via Emergency Ground Bridge. <<

❝ Yeah, yeah, get to the good stuff. Is she offline or--- ❞

❝ SSSSHHHHHHH--- !! ❞

[ Anchor ] >> ... We have yet to receive any word on the Councillor and Prime’s condition, but sources close to the case report they have been moved to a private wing, specializing in spark health and safety, with Doctor Atria and her team. Again, if you are just joining us, we cannot confirm any diagnosis nor the Councillor and Prime’s condition, and have yet to receive confirmation on any current speculation. <<

Resounding ‘Awws’ filled the large meeting room as the frustration seeped from nearly every EM Field and filled the air like a thick fog. Starburst shifted in her seat, sharing a brief glance with Councillor Merga before peeling her gaze back to the screen. Hopefully, the silence on Optimus and Elita’s end of things was a good sign, but even then she didn’t know for sure. They had a healthy sparkling last time as well, but upon emergence was when things took a turn for the worse...

[ Anchor ] >> In the meantime we have our panel of experts weighing in from across Cybertron. On behalf of all of us at the station we thank you all for joining us. To start, what would you say given the current situation? <<

[ Expert 1 ] >> Thank you for having me. First off I would like to say that from a Medical standpoint, it really is rather obvious what could have caused this. If we look at this not as an isolated event but over a course of time it’s easy to piece together the puzzle. There have been multiple reports speculating the Councillor’s slow decline in health. Colleagues have gone on record stating she has been working less and less, public appearances have declined from minimum to non-existent, and both her and the Prime have been frequenting the clinic for months leading to this event. <<

[ Expert 2 ] >> Pardon the interjection, but to your point: it’s also no secret that the First Chair had health problems prior to this. On her public records she is listed to have a degenerative disease --- stemming from the T-Cog --- but in some cases have been reported to link back to the spark chamber. <<

[ Expert 1 ] >> Yes, exactly. But also keep in mind, being bonded to Optimus, who currently acts as host for the Matrix of Leadership, there was a rather large concern that the relic’s energies could prove benign, and over time, cause adverse affects on the second half of the bond. Mixed with pre-existing health defects it is not impossible to believe that perhaps the spark, over time, has simply dwindled on its own accord. <<

Merga swivelled in his chair to glance up at the large screen. ❝ Primus... ❞ he sneered, turning incredulously to his colleagues, ❝ Of course, you all realize that is HERESY, do you not? ❞ Immediate shushes met the strange words of protest and the elder mech went back to smoking his cygar, reading over his newest messages with a prickling field. He had at least done his part and tried to speak against things...

[ Anchor ] >> By those measures then, would you all say the Matrix itself is rejecting the bond and in doing so, inflicting the sickness? <<

[ Expert 3 ] >> I certainly would, it’s the only logical explanation. No one knows the full breadth of the Matrix power, nor the intricacies, and certainly being sparkmates with another is an unprecedented occurrence One that has NEVER before happened in the history of the Primacy. But here is what we DO know about the Matrix from the teachings... <<

Merga had completely tuned out the broadcast by now, tilting his data pad closer to the navy and gold chassis to better read the new message from his contact at the clinic.

CONTACT > [ Preparing to move from observation room to surgery. ] CONTACT > [ Our team has everything blocked. Press can’t get through. No leaks. ] MERGA > [ Is it as we suspected? ] CONTACT > [ Yes. Medical team wheeled in two protoforms. ]

Ridges narrowed as neon optics flicked across the screen, fighting the sudden SPIKE in his spark-pulse though he was sure the apparent shock spilled briefly into his field.

MERGA > [ Singular extraction? ] CONTACT > [ No. Overhead Atria; twins. ]

Merga felt his own spark LURCH into his intake, and he choked on his cygar --- though hardly anyone else in the room noticed or offered to assist in the wheezing, shushing him to listen to the broadcast. Slowly regaining his composure he managed a reply.

MERGA > [ Are you certain? ] CONTACT > [ Affirmative. ]

Of all the unfortunate news to hear...

Merga stifled another hoarse cough, grinding his denta behind a hardened jawline with a force that nearly threatened to unhinge the joints. TWINS. Not one but TWO spawns of the Prime now sat between him and the Primacy, likely by purpose --- an extra addition to make up for the number they lost with Saiph. He certainly had to hand it to Optimus and Elita, assuring a safety cushion to their legacy with kin. A clever political move, and even larger commitment.

He --- and his trusted circle for that matter --- had all been banking on the possibility Elita had been carrying, but never did they think such would come to fruition with DOUBLE their expectations. Finishing off his cygar he blunted the end in the glass collecting bowl, taking it upon himself to dismiss the meeting, not that it mattered.

Neon optics flashed up at red plating, finding Elita’s young Assistant frozen in place, worry and apprehension etched on smooth fascia. Merga let his mouth twitch into a crooked grin, tipping his helm to the side as her large sapphire optics met his. She would be of use to him later, so of course, he remained cordial. The less she suspected him the better ( though he highly doubted such. Working so closely with Elita likely tainted her view of him ). It was a pity, really... Starburst seemed to be so competent and intelligent, he would’ve rather loved to have offered her a job in the future when --- Ah, well, in time perhaps...

Once out of the room he tapped at his comm, a familiar frequency, one that was expecting word from him...

¦ ¦ The usual. One hour. I have a story for you... ¦ ¦

#( NPC. ) COUNCILLOR MERGA #— · ♔ » ┊ ❛ ᴄᴏɴsᴘɪʀᴀᴄʏ ❜「 ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ 」#/ long post #◤— · // « ᴠᴇʀsᴇ » ┊ ❛ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ❜ ○「 ᴍᴀɪɴ 」#[ time to play everyone's favourite game !! ]#[ what's this fucker up to?? ]#[ xD ]

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