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parvulous-writings · 7 months

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Surprise // Silco x M!Reader

This is a special little oneshot - for the amazing @rey-is-not-a-skywalker

Summary: Silco has noticed some of your recent behaviours, so gives you a little surprise

Warnings: It's nothing graphic, it's just rather specifically tailored! partially uncharacteristically soft silco - lots of tension with Sevika. Detailed but also... not detailed?

Words: 2.6K

Notes: Unfortunately something is wrong with my Tumblr right now - it's going through long phases of not letting me save drafts and/or post. I've submitted tickets but the first one said there wasn't anything wrong (from a couple weeks ago) and the most recent one hasn't gotten a response yet. I appreciate all of your patience <3 My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Not my gif

Silco had always had a bit of a soft spot for you. At first, he tried to hide it, but here were ways in which you could tell; you'd be the only one he'd offer a drink to at a meeting, his eyes would linger on you for a moment too long every so often, and the mere fact that you worked for him were all signs that some way, somehow, you had wormed your way into his seemingly cold, dead heart. The first to notice was of course, his right hand, Sevika. At first she thought it was merely strange, but then she started to get downright suspicious. First the child he had taken under his wing, and now... You. The child, for the most part, stayed out of Sevika's way, even when spending time with Silco. She could deal with that. But you, you were never too far from Silco - you were practically on display. The man made sure that he always had an excuse on hand to keep you close - preferably within his line of sight. You didn't seem to notice the special attention you always got from the man, but Sevika did. To her, it was akin to a giant flashing neon sign above your head. Though part of her was indeed happy that Silco had finally started to feel emotions strongly enough to care for someone again, another part of her was simply boiling at the prospect. Not out of jealousy, but more out of sheer impracticality. This was not the time to fall in love. Not when everything between Zaun and Piltover was at a head - when Silco needed to keep a close eye on his very calculated moves concerning Topside. The last thing he - or anyone else involved - needed, was a distraction.

But to Silco, the kind of distraction you were giving him wasn't the kind that would be the end of his operation - at least in his eyes. To him, you were giving him a break from the rest of the world, some peace that he had needed for what had now become many years. It was a kind of peace that made him feel almost normal, that for those brief moments, he could pretend that perhaps he had a better life; friends, perhaps a small family, a proper home. This little daydream of his never usually lasted for long, but he wished it would at times.

After about three weeks of Silco's unusual behaviour concerning you, Sevika had reached her boiling point. She couldn't deal with this situation without answers anymore. So, storming up the corridor towards Silco's study, she had a purpose. She was going to get to the bottom of this little mystery, she knew that much. Several scenarios were playing through her mind as she reached the door, flinging it open with such strength that it almost put a hole in the wall. Silco immediately looked up, glaring at the intruder. Even after realising that it was only Sevika, his gaze didn't waver. It seemed that the woman had interrupted whatever goings-on had been happening in the room, and Silco was not happy about it. Silco put down the small objects he had been fiddling with, raising his undamaged brow at the woman. "And what is the meaning of this?" He asked, his voice starting to drip with venom. "We need to... discuss something." Sevika replied, choosing her words very carefully. She didn't want to anger Silco, but she knew that she was already on her way to that eventuality. "Do we really? Well, last time I checked, people typically knock at my door before entering." He glanced to the corner of the room mid-sentence. "It's alright, you don't need to be afraid... You just keep playing..." A small smile plays on his lips as he speaks to you, sat in the corner, happily amusing yourself. Silco's gaze span back to Sevika, becoming cold once more. "Sit down." The woman didn't argue, sitting herself in the uncomfortable - albeit allegedly padded - chair on the other side of Silco's desk. "What exactly is this about?" Silco asked, brushing away the pieces of clutter he had been fiddling with a few minutes prior. Sevika stayed quiet for a moment too long, and it wore Silco's patience thin very quickly. "Well?" He snapped impatiently. "We need to talk about... Him." Sevika's gaze briefly flitted to you, and Silco's eyes narrowed. He wasn't liking where this was going. "What about him?" Silco's tone was cold, almost accusatory. It held an unsaid 'choose your next words very carefully'. Though Sevika was undeniably a valuable asset to his operation, he was not opposed to disciplining her if she dared to speak ill of you. Sevika fell silent again at this. How was she going to put this without royally pissing him off? "I just think..." She began, but soon trailed off as she watched Silco's slender hands slowly ball into fists as they rested on his desk. "... That he's distracting you." There was no other way for her to put it, so she decided to try and face the issue head on, no matter how Silco's temper may to it. "Distracting me?" Silco's voice was... Eerily calm. "And how exactly would you say he's distracting me?" Sevika just gestured to his desk with her augmented arm, then to you seated in the corner with her other arm. "He... He does not contribute. All he does is sit and play like a child. He isn't a child! And you just... Let him? You let him sit in on sensitive shit, Silco!" She exclaimed, getting to her feet. "It's not right." "You wish to lecture me on what is right?" Silco responded, voice practically oozing past his lips. He leant back in his chair as he spoke, eyes trained on Sevika across from him. "After all I have given to you? After all we have achieved together?" His hand trails along the surface of his desk as he slowly gets to his feet. "Have you anything else you wish to say about my arrangements here?" He asks, gesturing vaguely to the room encasing you all. At this question, Sevika falls silent. She knows what kind of test this is - a test of loyalty. Whether she is willing enough to withstand Silco's... fancies, or whether she wants to be dealt with. Typically, Sevika was the one to do the 'dealing', so no doubt she would be left to Jinx, to be the young woman's play thing.

Sevika barely even needed to consider this; she's played with Jinx before, and as demure as the teen could seem to most, she was truly unhinged when it mattered. She had bested Sevika, and the older woman was not too keen to let that happen again. Silco began to turn away, his hand resting on the back of his chair, just above his shoulder height. He heaved a sigh, his slender shoulders slowly moving up, then down with the action, as he tried to rid himself of the tension that had now rooted in the muscle. "I… Didn't mean right as in…" Sevika started to try and explain herself, in an effort to keep herself in his good books, but by the grip that he suddenly had on the top of his chair, he wasn't in any sort of mood to listen to her reasonings. His head whipped round partially, his lips parted in a sneer. Sevika slowly nodded at this, finally deciding to react to the silent message she was being given. Perhaps she would try and get him alone - if that were even possible. Without another word, she left the room, closing the door and returning the room to how it had been before her arrival. Silco runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself, before rounding his chair to face you, as you happily sat with your little creations, blissfully ignoring the conversation that had gone on beside you, just a few feet away. Silco returned to his seat, bringing the objects he had been occupied with before back to his attention, and right in front of him. Carefully, and with a deft hand, he clipped all the pieces together, making sure they fit perfectly, and could move with relative ease without being too loose. When he was finally satisfied with the state of his creation, he got to his feet once more, slowly and quietly making his way over to you. "My dear..." He began, his tone dipped in a softness that rarely ever showed itself. You glance up briefly, a little surprised that he's approached you - it's the middle of the day, shouldn't he be working? Your brows furrow as you are about to ask this question to him, but he seems to predict your query before the words pass your lips. "I always have time for you." He speaks, handing you the small figure he had been working on nearly all morning.

It's a small, pose-able bat. Your eyes light up - the model itself had many smaller components that must not have been easy to place. "I made sure it was perfect, for you." Silco's voice breaks you from your thoughts again, the man's smile visible to you before your eyes had even turned back to his face again. "Well? Do you like it?" He asks, not quite impatient, but more... Desperate. Eager, perhaps is the best way to describe him - he wants, no, needs to know that it's to your liking. You giggle quietly, nodding at him with a wide smile. "I love it, Silco..." You stretch up for a moment, pressing a gentle kiss to his scarred cheek. You then turn back to your model - a vast array of little buildings, all of which Silco has, over time, watched you build and place according to your whims. You gaze over the miniature skyline briefly, before finding the perfect place to nestle this little creature Silco had gifted you - perched amongst some billboards, hiding in plain sight of the human figurines lining the streets below. "There..." You say, partly to yourself, before turning back to look at Silco, beaming with pride. "He can stay there, and we can both see him..." You chuckle, and Silco slowly lowers himself to sit beside you. "He, hm?" Silco hums, "And that's his name? I never thought of one for him..." He muses, playing along with you. You purse your lips in thought, trying to wrack your brain for a suitable name for your newfound bat figure. You shake your head, your nose scrunches as you fail to bring forth a suitable name for the little bat. "I've got nothing..." You reply softly, almost sounding disappointed. You feel Silco's hand come to rest on your shoulder. "It's alright... I'm sure we'll think of something, hm?" He pauses for a moment, his thumb slowly moving over your shoulder in an attempt to soothe any true disappointment you may have. "Now... How about we come away from this for a little while, and get you something to eat?" You nod slowly in agreement, and the pair of you get to your feet; Silco's hand fumbles for a moment whilst it seeks out yours, before your fingers intertwine with one another's.

Lunch, as always, was served in Silco's office, but the pair of you had moved over to another part of the room, sitting down at a small table and pair of plush chairs, that Silco had actually put in a week or so after your arrival. Before you, Silco had often had lunch alone at his desk, but now he had someone to dine with, who actually seemed to be less afraid of him than anyone else. In truth, there was little reason for you to fear Silco - the temper and fury that he had so often let loose on others without warning and without mercy, had never been directed at you, not even a smidgen of it. You had seen it before, of course, living with him made that more violent side of him hard to avoid, but he would always go and calm himself down before he came back to you, if something had gotten him too riled up. You sat across from one another, happily tucking in to your warm meals. Naturally, it was no Topside meal, but it was some of the best you'd be able to get in the Underground. Silco had made sure that you would always get the finest of what the Lanes had to offer, no matter what it took to get it. Thankfully, being the one to pull the strings in the majority of Zaun now, this was no issue for the man. He had treated you to the finest things he could get his hands on, most of them from the other barons of the Underground, but some things he even managed to import from Topside - not that he ever let you in on his secrets on that side of things. In fact, it was very rare that Silco let you know of, well, anything in terms of business. You had asked him about this once or twice before, and his only response was about 'keeping you safe'. That's all it ever was, no matter what you tried to discuss with him on the side of business. 'I don't want you getting involved, dear.' He'd tell you. 'It's not safe, and I'd rather not even think about risking you in this kind of trade... Please, understand at least this much, if anything..' And after that particular conversation, he'd brush you off or change the subject any time you'd bring it up. In his eyes, he had made his stance on the situation very clear. In it's own, sort of sweet way, you believed that this was the main way Silco showed he cared for you - even if he never really said it out loud, besides perhaps the pet name. Public displays - hell, most outward displays - of affection were not entirely Silco's area... And you've never pushed for that kind of thing, as it seemed to be a somewhat tender subject for him. You never asked why, it was not your business, and you hoped that eventually he may trust you - and himself - enough to tell you. For the time being, though, you were both happy enough keeping your relationship as it was; a vastly unspoken one, where although your care and affection for one another was deep-rooted and painfully obvious even to the pair of you, nothing was ever truly confirmed, nothing was made concrete by your words. You were happy with it for the most part - though a small part of you yearned desperately for the validation of his love - and although you hoped to bring up the unspoken part of your relationship at some point in the future, it was to remain the distant future for the time being. You didn't want to ruin a good thing and push Silco too much for an answer, causing him to just... Cut off everything entirely. You had seen it happen before, though mostly with lesser goons that he took in to do all of his dirty work, and whilst you didn't see yourself on their level, you didn't want to take any risks.

"Did you like your surprise?" Silco's low, velvet voice breaks you from your trance. You look up to him, and nod eagerly. You loved it - a truly wonderful and sweet surprise. "I did... Was there an occasion for it?" You asked, placing your cutlery on your plate as you finished your meal. "Do I need an occasion to get you gifts?" He responds, his eyes now fixed on the remainder of his meal. You pause briefly, before shaking your head in answer to his question. "No, of course not..." You crack a smile at him, which he soon returns when he meets your eye. He lets out a breathy chuckle, clearly pleased with this response of yours. "Good... Because, I can assure you, there will be many more to come..."

#requests open #arcane league of legends #x reader oneshot #x reader requests #silco headcanon #silco x reader #silco arcane #silco fluff #fluffy scenario #fluffy oneshot #fluff #cute fluff #fluffy fic #arcane imagines #arcane x reader

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therealeagal · 1 month

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Baldur's Gate 3 - companion ranking.

Decide for yourselves whether my list is accurate or not. Whichever you decide, please do @ me, bro. I'm interested to know who your favorite character is!

I switched up my usual intro. What do you think? Anyway. Let's begin. This is a list of the companions in Baldur's Gate 3. I think I got all of them. There's so many. They are enumerated from best to worst.

Wyll Ravenguard, the Blade of the Frontiers. Really got a stick up his ass. I try to romance him and he starts throwing out disapproves whenever I talk to someone else. Motherfucker I'm not the one flirting with them I just want to know what they're up to. Stuck up piece of shit. Also I guess he's a hypocrite that literally sold his soul for power (he says he had a good reason…) But mainly I'm mad about him being a fucking diva when other people flirt with me. Fuckin' Wyll… Wyll stans got pissy at me because they didn't get the joke. Well, his placement at the very bottom of the list was a joke. Don't tell the stans, but my review was completely accurate) What? I didn't say anything. I mean, Wyll Ravenguard is Ao's gift to humanity. There exists no person in this world that is better than Wyll. I could wax loquacious about all the ways in which Wyll is perfection beyond perfection, but I won't bore you with the details. Suffice it to say that no matter what Karlach's entry may suggest, Wyll is truly the greatest of the great.

Scratch the dog. Maybe it's just because I'm a dog person, but there's no way you can convince me that Scratch isn't the best.

The owlbear cub, for much the same reasons as Scratch. Although I can't say I have any strong feelings one way or the other about owls or bears...

Karlach. No question that Karlach would take the top spot if Scratch and the owlbear weren't around. As she is the first companion that is both A: a good person and B: not a prick about it on top of being irrepressibly cheerful and kind, there is no question that Karlach is the best official companion (Scratch and the owlbear are more pets/familiars than companions). I mean, Gale is also a good guy too and he's not an asshole about it, but he's kind of a tool. Karlach is a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.

Editing this one in, because I FORGOT WITHERS! Rookie mistake. Sorry, Withers!

Jaheira. I never played the first two Baldur's Gate games, but I understand that Jaheira is a returning character. Either way, she's a fuckin' badass. A regular in my final party.

Shadowheart/Lae'zel. It's hard to choose between the two. They've both got excellent storylines, which are actually quite similar in a lot of ways. And they're both badass chicks. What's not to love?

Boo, the miniature giant space hamster and his human familiar, Minsc of Rashemen. Also often a fixture in my party, because he's funny.

Gale Dekarios. To be honest, I wasn't crazy about Gale at first. Kind of pretentious. But he's grown on me. Yes, he is kind of a tool, but at least he generally likes it when I'm nice to people, unlike a certain vampire who shall remain unnamed... also he eats three of my magic items. Not that I was using them but it's the principle of the matter!

(this is Wyll's true rating, but ignore it because obviously he belongs at the top of the list. PLEASE LIKE ME!)

Halsin. Ever wanted to fuck a bear? In every sense of the word? Well, have I got news for you!

Astarion. WHY DO YOU HATE IT WHEN I'M NICE TO PEOPLE, ASTARION??!?!?!?!?!? IT'S SO ANNOYING!!!

The dirt.

The worms inside the dirt.

The stool of the worms inside the dirt.

Minthara. A giant asshole. Which I guess is to be expected. Still better than Solas. Yes, I know they are from two different games. Shut up. Fuckin' Solas...

The Emperor. He of the gaslighting and the tentacles.

The Absolute. Yes, the main bad guy. I'd rather hang out with the main bad guy than...

Oh, lemme edit this in. Just in case. If you, for some reason, get your dander up about the contents of this list, please refrain from reblogging this to just whinge about what a terrible person I am. Not that I am opposed to someone challenging my ideas, but the death spiral does get tedious quite fast. If you really really got an axe to grind, try the PMs. Please and thank you. :)

#spoilers #spoiler warning #fuckin spoilers #but I don't want people whinging at me #baldur's gate 3 #scratch the dog #owlbear cub #jaheira #lae'zel #shadowheart #minsc and boo #minsc #gale dekarios #halsin #astarion #minthara baenre #wyll ravengard #bg3 withers

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leohtttbriar · 10 months

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the people have expressed my own deep desires (and by people i mean @cmayw and @holodax on this post, so thanks y'all) and i felt compelled to at least try to offer something in answer. so. i give you. the final scene of the unwritten kiradax bringing-up-baby au. baby (not present) is a giant tardigrade. bareil (present) is boring.

you drop an olive i sit on my hat. it all fits perfectly.

With their Bajoran space-faring ship finally docked at the station (a certain Starfleet Commander Sisko was thrilled to witness its mooring), the Bajoran and Cardassian law enforcement officials having retreated and released Jadzia and Kira, and Baby the tardigrade long gone into the ether or some other obscurity known only to Starfleet freaks, Kira donned her blue robes and walked along the promenade with Bareil, trying and failing to communicate even a fraction of messiness of the previous three days.

His quiet presence was jarring. And then, worse, he started asking her questions like: “when the wormhole would officially transfer to the authority of Bajor” and “what exactly is a tardigrade” and “why are you talking so much about a worm-person” and “honestly, Nerys, stop talking about this Dax creature” and “Are you paying attention to me?”

If Kira had taken a hammer to her skull she’d have less of headache and, if her luck prevailed, she would also be dead.

“Are you paying attention to me?”

“Yes, love,” she said, patting Bareil’s hand gently.

“Well then,” he grabbed her shoulders and hauled her in front of him. “Mind telling me why you look like someone’s just spit in your tea?”

Kira shrugged. “I don’t look like that,” she said, mildly.

“You definitely don’t look like you’ve just robbed the Cardassians of a chance to stake a claim on a strategic point of travel in our star-system…”

“I’m not the one who did that, Bareil,” grumbled Kira.

“Nerys.”

“What?” she snapped, stepping out of his grasp and turning her gaze back out the observation window. She couldn’t help but think of how ridiculous the wormhole looked, all squiggly lines and heaving waves and so on. She said as much: “It’s a silly thing, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t call it silly.”

“It is, though,” she insisted. She twisted the length of her blue sleeve around her wrist anxiously. “It’s the silliest thing I’ve ever encountered.”

Bareil stepped next to her and tried to dislodge her busy fingers from her robe. She stubbornly kept twisting away at the fabric—Don’t tell me what to do, I’ll ruin my clothes if I want, she wanted to snap, as if that would at all indicate an appropriate level of mental stability.

“What’s going on, Nerys?” he whispered to her, in his careful tone. Kira wanted to un-stick his vowels with a pick-axe.

“Nothing is going on,” she said. “We got what we needed—the wormhole is free for exploration and free from the Cardassians—the provisional government has stopped whining at me like children—the tardigrade is back where she—”

She cut herself off with a sob.

Bareil tried to pull her into him but she just shrugged him off again and began vigorously flapping her hands around her face, as if to fan away her own stupid sadness.

“Nerys…” he said, reaching. “Tell me, please? What’s wrong?”

“Just,” she sucked in a breath that sounded more like a honk. “Do you think she’s happy?”

“Do I think who’s happy?”

“Baby.”

“…Baby?”

“The space-bear!” cried Kira. “The tardigrade! That—that—crazy Starfleet woman—she didn’t tell me where she put Baby—after chasing around the star-system, trying to find a place for a thing like that! That space-bear is as much mine as it is hers now. She can’t just keep that information from me!”

“Nerys—”

“And, what, just because I’m not Starfleet I don’t deserve to explore the wormhole, too? That’s I’m just supposed to stay here on Bajor and be a Vedek’s wife?”

“What—”

“After she trapped me on that planet and made me listen to the ‘songs of the proto-universe’ or whatever horse-shit,” she threw her hands out, now getting truly angry, “after she ruined my ship and delayed this whole project for a dumb animal! After she tried to trick the Prophets and then almost made the wormhole collapse and then dared the Cardassians to invade again! After she lost my earring and nearly wrecked everything! She doesn’t even want to share the space-bear? Are you kidding me?”

She slammed her hand on the observation glass.

“Not on my watch,” she snarled. “I’m getting Baby back. And my earring.”

Bareil looked at her for a long moment. Then he drew a hand down his face and said, “You don’t want to be a Vedek’s wife?”

Kira blinked.

“Bareil,” she said. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

He sighed. “I’m not sure I know you anymore. Let alone anything you mean.”

“Bareil.”

“Are you more upset about losing your old earring?” he asked, crossing his arms. “Or are you more upset about losing the one I gave you? For our engagement?”

Kira opened her mouth to respond, more sure than anything what her answer was and what the right answer should be, but her voice stuttered and squeaked and nothing emerged. She tried again.

A grunt.

She swallowed and tried harder, the words of assurance so real and close and exactly everything she thought would be easiest to say.

Silence.

She patted her throat to make sure there wasn’t an unexpected knife lodged there, cutting off her voice before it could start. She frowned.

Bareil, with the deepest of sad eyes, truly too sad for Kira to fully meet, uncrossed his arms and sighed again.

“You’re not who I thought you were,” he finally said. “Or your…priorities have changed.”

“Hold on—”

“Goodbye, Nerys.”

He walked out.

Kira could think of no rational reason to go after him. Which was probably his point.

She turned and punched the bulkhead and then hissed out a string of curses she hadn’t used since her resistance days.

“He didn’t sound too happy.”

Of course. Of course she'd found her.

Kira had either the urge to launch her phaser at her—Jadzia—like a heavy projectile and screech the screech of the desert lizards on Bajor, or to melt into an amorphous vapor so she didn’t have to listen to Jadzia’s nonsense for a single second more.

Instead she dropped her chin and closed her eyes and groaned.

“How long were you listening, Dax?”

“Oh, not very long,” was the breezy reply.

Kira pinched the skin at her temples, which was now bruised from the amount of abuse she’d put it through the past few days in Jadzia’s presence.

“Dax.” She was going to punch another wall. “My engagement has just ended. My future is up in the air. What do you want.”

“Don’t fret,” she replied, walking lightly up to her side. “I have a gift for you.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you not.”

“It’s a present, Nerys! Come on, relax. Take it.”

Kira opened her eyes—if only so her brain would stop focusing on the particular rhythm with which Jadzia said her name. She looked up (and up and up, why was she so damned tall?) and narrowed her eyes at the wide-eyed expression of innocence on Jadzia's face.

“What is it.”

“Open it,” said Jadzia, un-phased and smiling as wryly as ever. She shoved the package at Kira who refused to lift a hand to hold it.

“What. Is. It.”

Jadzia pouted but obligingly unwrapped the package herself. She opened a box and then held it out for Kira to see. There, atop a black fabric, an earring shimmered.

The earring was the same burnished silver of her old beritium one—only this was darker in color, with a purple tint. The puncture point was still a half-circle, but within the rounded center was a starburst pattern, its tendrils expanding out amongst the rings.

On the upper chain was the ear-cuff, made of a reddish-gold with a thin flare like a glass wing, or glass sail.

The bottom chain had a single amethyst stone and, within its crystal, the tiniest carve-out of a planet—Bajor.

Kira, with a shaking hand, touched the stone and gasped at is warmth.

“So you can always have Bajor close, of course,” said Jadzia, in her casual—her weird—way. “I know—I know I made things hard for you. And I’m sorry. For not…understanding…why you have to do what you do. I know it’s my fault that the others were lost. But there!” she thrust the earring. “Made of beritium and an alloy from Trill—I didn’t have enough beritium. The stone is also from Trill, but I can take it off if you want. The cuff is made from a granite from Bajor, though, look!”

She was speaking far too fast. Kira briefly considered fainting.

“How cool is that?” continued Jadzia, unconcerned (habitually) with Kira’s sanity. “It’s just metallic enough to be manipulated, and in direct star-light, it’ll light up like a gold moon! Isn’t that neat?

"There was this bacteria that used to eat up the earth and then poop out this granite-like waste—which is sort of how all granite is made, tumbling and breaking apart and then being smooshed together again under intense pressure. And this Bajoran bacteria used to have guts strong enough to remake rock! Delightful, right? They used this granite thousands of years ago to build their space-ships, too!

"That’s what the sail on the cuff is for. To be like your ship. The ancient Bajorans used the granite for the ship's bolts and mast, to hold everything together. And help capture sunlight.”

She took a breath and withdrew her fingers, which had drifted around Kira’s wrist so she could hold the earring steady as she lectured about ancient bugs and space sail-boats—both things that were present on the earring procured and gifted to a now brain-dead Kira.

“Anyway…” said Jadzia, dropping her gaze, looking awkward for the first time since Kira had met her. “If you don’t want it, that’s okay. I only thought I should try to replace the other one. All that happened, happened, because I just wanted to keep you near me. And I just did anything that came into my mind.” She shook her head at herself. “And well—I want you to know that”—she raised her gaze to Kira’s again—“I am sorry, Nerys. Truly.”

Then, business done, she nodded and stepped away.

Rapidly, Kira’s brain came back online. The facts of the situation hit her in the lungs and had her coughing out a phlegmy and embarrassing, “Wait.”

Jadzia paused at the stairs, turned around, and raised a single eyebrow.

“Don’t apologize,” said Kira, sounding a bit like a strangled bird. “Don’t apologize. I ought to thank you!”

Jadzia frowned. “Thank…me?”

“You see,” blurted out Kira. “I’ve just discovered that the past few days were the the best few days of my whole life.”

Maybe it’d taken her a little too long to understand. But, to be entirely fair to her, she’d been a soldier since she was a child and, since then, she’d been far more on the lookout for threats than treasure.

But now there was no escaping it. The truth. She didn’t want her old earring made of the scraps of Cardassian vessel she’d shot down as a kid. She didn’t want Bareil’s earring, precious to her planet, the sign of a leader and a leader’s faith. No she wanted this one—this chaotic one, this privilege of wonder and love and duty—made out of the actual shit of prehistoric bacteria.

“Nerys,” said Jadzia, her eyes filling.

“Jadzia,” said Kira, reaching out a hand.

Jadzia didn’t take it, choosing instead to rush forward, pin her against the wall, and scoop her into a kiss. Kira threw her arms around Jadzia’s impressive shoulders, feeling weightless for the first time in her life, feeling pink and full and happy.

Jadzia pulled back but Kira was wasn’t in the mood for her contrariness. She yanked Jadzia’s lips back to hers and wrapped her legs around Jadzia’s waist. Below, her new earring dropped to the floor with a sweet thud.

“Darling,” gasped Kira, breathing in Jadzia’s smile and kissing it again. “This is going to be terrible—but will you marry me?”

Then she kissed her before Jadzia could even begin to start talking once more.

#kiradax #ds9 #jadzia dax #kira nerys #star trek #my fic

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mtap-comics · 8 months

Text

Welcome back to my Bad Things Happen Bingo!

Fandom: My time at Portia

Pairing: Arlo x Female Builder

Summary: Elenya takes a hit for Arlo. The latter, of course, is /not/ pleased about this at all.

Word count: 7,389

Prompt: Anger Born of Worry

Author’s note: I'm sorry you had to wait so long again. I had some stressfull weeks which resulted in a really bad writers block, but I finally manged to finish another fill. I hope the length of it makes up a little bit for it, though! :)

There will be a lot of angst in this one, probably the worst of all the works so far, but the ending is as cavity-inducing as you now it from me. :D Please notify your dentist in advance.

Now I won't keep you any longer and wish you a happy reading!

Warnings: Lots of Angst and lots of Fluff, Blood and Injury

Read on AO3: Link

Scars of Sacrifice

Sweat stood on Elenya's forehead. It was the height of summer and together with Arlo and Remi she was standing in front of a tunnel in the middle of the Eufala Desert. A small earthquake in the desert had revealed an old tunnel, and Arlo had immediately ordered that no one was to enter it until the Civil Corps had thoroughly examined it.

Elenya helped Arlo and Remi on the dangerous expedition, even though she wasn't an official member. She was glad that Arlo, even though they had been married for over a year, still allowed her to help in such matters and trusted her ability to fight. He still worried about her, of course, but he also knew that Elenya was not one to be kept away from adventure.

Trouble always found her, even when she wasn't looking for it.

They had faced many challenges together since they first met in Portia, and their love for each other had only grown stronger through those experiences. Just as this one was about to do.

~~~~~~

The tunnel entrance was ancient and the air inside was thick and musty. It was hard to tell how old the tunnel was. Had it been dug before the Age of Darkness, or had it been dug by the people looking for relics a hundred years ago? They'd probably never know, but it wasn't really important.

It was more important to make sure that there was no danger coming from this tunnel. Who knew what had been hidden here all these years?

Cautiously and attentively they followed the tunnel, Elenya at Arlo's request slightly behind the two men. And indeed, it wasn't long before they encountered the first giant worms. They shot out of the ground as if from nowhere, but the three of them made quick work of the four cell worms.

After a quick check from Arlo to make sure everyone was OK, they pushed deeper into the tunnel. The air became increasingly stuffy the further they went, and Elenya was glad she had taken one of Dr. Xu's tinctures for her asthma before they left. It was really hard to breathe in here.

For the next 5 minutes they encountered a few individual worms now and then, and so far that seemed to be the biggest threat coming out of the tunnel. But Elenya didn't dare hope that something much worse wasn't waiting for them.

Arlo and Remi were getting nervous as well. Arlo looked back at her more often, as if to make sure she was all right, and each time she tried to smile at him reassuringly.

Anticipation was building inside her and she couldn't decide if she wanted the inevitable to happen sooner or later. With every step they took, the tension in the air grew.

After a sharp turn, a large cave suddenly opened up in front of them. An unnatural light shone from it and Arlo immediately stopped them with a wave of his hand.

"What...?" Remi started to speak, but Arlo pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him instantly.

"Shh." With a hand signal he told them to listen more closely and Elenya strained to follow his request.

At first she heard nothing, but then... The shuffling of feet and something being dragged across the floor.

It sounded like...

"Miner variants." Remi whispered her thoughts and tightened his grip on his hammer.

"Yes, and at least six of them." Arlo confirmed, his voice barely more than a breath.

Six against three then. That shouldn't be a problem for them. After all the hours she had already spent in Ingall's Mine, these monsters were more than familiar to her.

Still, an unpleasant anxiety spread through her. Her heart began to pound and sweat made her hands slippery. Almost painfully, she gripped the hilt of her sword.

Could they really take on so many at once? What if, for once, they were intelligent enough to lunge at one of them at the same time?

She did not notice how her breathing quickened until familiar blue eyes slid into her vision and instantly a part of her fear vanished. They looked at her with concern and determination, silently telling her that they were in this together, no matter what danger lay ahead. Arlo's unwavering support gave Elenya the strength she needed to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Without exchanging words, they formulated a plan. Arlo motioned for Elenya to take cover behind a large rock formation while he and Remi strategically positioned themselves on the opposite side of the cave entrance. She admired the coordinated movements between the two, a testament to the time they had already fought side by side together.

With a nod of reassurance, Elenya took her position, her heart still pounding, but now with a newfound sense of determination. She knew that Arlo and Remington had her back and she would do everything in her power to protect them as well.

With one last deep breath and a signal from Arlo, the two Civil Corps charged into the room. They surprised the monsters and quickly defeated the first Miner Variant before engaging in a battle with two of them each.

That left one more, which continued to look bewildered between the two fighting groups. This was Elenya's chance. She could always take on one of them.

At first she tried to sneak up on it as quietly as possible, but then she saw it turn its attention to Arlo and lunge at him, so she quickly jumped in between, deflecting the scythe with her sword.

The screech of metal against metal filled the cave as Elenya parried the Miner Variant's attack, pushing back against its immense strength. Her heart raced as she engaged in a fierce dance with the creature, every clash of their weapons echoing through the chamber.

Arlo and Remi were locked in their own battles, the sounds carried over to her. But Elenya couldn't afford to be distracted by their fights. She focused solely on the relentless Miner Variant in front of her, its glowing eyes filled with malicious intent.

She had fought many of these monsters before, but these seemed a little different from the ones in Ingall's Mine. Bigger, paler, and most of all... faster .

With each of her blows and parries, the monster managed to match her every move. It was as if this Miner Variant had an uncanny understanding of her fighting style. Frustration welled up within Elenya, mixing with the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She needed an opening, a chance to end this battle.

Suddenly it came - a fleeting weakness in her opponent's defence. Elenya seized the moment, her muscles reacting instinctively as she aimed her strike at the creature's exposed side. But in a blur of motion, the Miner Variant evaded her attack and countered, its scythe arcing towards her chest.

Fear tightened around Elenya's heart as she twisted her body, narrowly avoiding the scythe's deadly arc. The close call sent a shiver down her spine and her senses heightened. She knew she had to think fast, her life depended on it.

Every muscle in her body tensed as she observed the Miner Variant's movements, her mind racing to decipher its patterns. Taking a calculated risk, she went on the offensive, delivering a quick series of blows to the creature's legs. With precise, lightning-fast movements, she tried to impair the creature's mobility. The Miner Variant stumbled, its scythe momentarily off balance, and Elenya saw her opportunity.

She lunged forward, her sword gleaming in the dim light, and struck with all her might. In one swift motion, the blade sliced through the air and found its target, piercing the creature's torso. The Miner Variant let out a guttural roar, its body jerking in pain. Elenya stood, breathless and trembling, as the creature crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Her chest heaved, a mixture of relief and exhaustion washing over her. This had been much harder than she was used to.

How had these monsters become so strong down here? There was nothing in here after all.

The clank of a sword snapped her out of her thoughts and she remembered with a start that the fight wasn't over yet. She quickly glanced over at Remi, who had also finished off one of his opponents and was still busy with the second, but didn't seem to need any help.

Then her eyes wandered to Arlo and it was as if time stood still. He, too, had already killed one monster without any problems and, slightly turned away from her, was fighting the second, but that was not what made her freeze in horror.

No, behind him, completely unnoticed by the three of them, a seventh Miner Variant had crept up. As if in slow motion, she saw it raise its scythe high above its head, ready to strike a fatal blow.

A deafening buzz filled her ears, all-encompassing panic gripped her, and she tried to yell a warning to Arlo, but no sound escaped her throat. Without her knowledge, her feet began to move.

Slowly, the scythe lowered and pure desperation made her speed up.

Oh God, please don't let her be too late!

Suddenly Elenya crashed into Arlo's side and time jumped back to normal speed.

With a dull thud, they both hit the ground. For a moment she thought she had prevented the worst, but then it hit her. The pain .

It spread across her back like fire. Tore at her body and had the impact not knocked the air out of her lungs, she would have screamed. But she couldn't. Instead, the pain overwhelmed her and everything went dark.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Arlo didn't know what hit him at first. One second he was delivering the final blow to the monster in front of him and the next he was on the ground, a familiar weight on top of him.

The impact knocked the air out of him and it took him a moment to catch his breath.

What?

Confused, he looked first at the Miner Variant that had suddenly appeared where he had been, as if from nowhere, and at the way Remy was driving it away with his hammer, and then at the shock of black hair resting on his chest.

Elenya.

A surge of fear shot through him, coupled with the terrible realisation of what must have happened. Desperately, he called out her name, in the hope of some kind of response that would alleviate his growing dread.

"Elenya! Please answer me!" His trembling right hand reached out to gently shake her shoulder, but as soon as his fingers made contact, a small whimper escaped her lips and his heart clenched.

His fingers met something warm and sticky, and far too much of it.

"Elenya..."

As carefully as he could, he pulled out from under her, eliciting pained whimpers that tore at his heart, but he needed to know what had happened. He made sure to lay her on the floor in the same position she had been on top of him.

When he finally knelt beside her and could examine her back, he wished he could turn back time. A deep, long cut ran from her left shoulder down the middle of her back, stopping just short of her spine. Blood flowed in streams from it.

His stomach turned and horror rendered him immobile.

Oh God...

For far too long a time he stared at the horrific sight before him. Time in which Elenya lost precious blood.

By the time he was able to shake himself from his stupor, her blood was already spreading across the floor and he desperately pulled everything out of his waist pack until he had compresses in his hands. With both hands, he pressed the compresses firmly against her back, desperately attempting to stem the bleeding.

A faint cry of pain tore from Elenya's throat and a stream of apologetic words flowed from his mouth.

"I'm so sorry, darling. Everything will be alright. Please hold on. I'm sorry... I'm so sorry."

But the blood refused to let up, the metallic smell rising into his nose, and he pressed harder, his actions fuelled by desperation. Elenya's cries faded to silence.

"Please, please hold on. You can't die. Please don't..." Fear ate him up inside.

How had this happened? Why hadn't he noticed the presence of the Miner Variant? And, most agonising of all, why had Elenya chosen to throw herself in harm's way?

Fear, horror, confusion and anger mixed within him, overwhelming him like a searing wave. Unbeknownst to him, tears of despair fell upon his hands as he fought desperately to save Elenya's life.

Only Remington's shocked voice managed to break through the chaos consuming him.

"Arlo!" His best friend dropped to his knees beside him, his expression mirroring Arlo's own horror.

"Remi, help me," Arlo pleaded in a strained, shaking voice. He needed someone else to be there with him, his normal control slipping with Elenya's blood through his fingers. His mind raced, trying to remember any knowledge of first aid that might help them in this situation. But panic threatened to overwhelm him, and he fought to keep his focus on saving Elenya.

Despite his shock, Remington sprang into action. He dug into his waist pack and pulled out all the first aid supplies he could find.

"Come on, we need to get her jacket and T-shirt off. Otherwise we can't bandage her." Remi tried to pull his hands away, but he resisted.

"I can't! She's losing blood way too fast!" Pure panic filled his voice. Elenya was about to bleed to death and he didn't know what to do.

"Okay, okay, I'll have to cut off the jacket then. We can leave the T-shirt on. You keep the pressure on, I'll work around you." Quickly, Remington pulled out a small knife and started cutting what was left of Elenya's jacket.

Meanwhile, Arlo never let up the pressure on Elenya's wound. The compresses and his hands were the only thing keeping her from certain death.

Once the jacket was out of the way, Remi grabbed a fresh pile of compresses and instructed Arlo to remove the ones that had completely bled through. With Remi's guidance, they managed to wrap several bandages tightly around Elenya's torso, stopping most of the bleeding.

"We need to get her out of here, back to Portia," Remington said, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes. "I'll take her horse. You carry her. We'll ride as fast as we can."

Arlo nodded, his friend's words a lifeline in the midst of the chaos. Gently, carefully , he lifted Elenya into his arms, cradling her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. Which she was. At least to him. He could feel her shallow breaths against his chest and prayed with every fibre of his being that she would hold on.

With Remington leading the way, they hurried out of the cave and mounted their horses. Elenya was carefully placed in front of Arlo on his horse, supported by his strong arms. Her head rested against his shoulder and he could feel her feverish skin against his neck.

"Stay with me, Elenya," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Come on, sweetheart. You can make it."

The ride back to Portia was a blur. He barely remembered passing the bridge or the gate. Not even the people calling out to them anxiously as they raced through the streets. All he could focus on was the gentle up and down of Elenya's chest under his hand. They couldn't lose a second. It could be Elenya's last.

Twenty minutes after they had set off, they finally reached the clinic at the top of the hill. Remi helped him carefully lift Elenya off the horse, and then they rushed through the door of the clinic.

Inside, two pairs of startled eyes locked on them, quickly widening in shock at the sight of the bloodied Elenya in Arlo's arms.

"Arlo, Remington, what happened? Quick, put her down here." Quickly, Dr. Xu scurried over to the bed behind the room divider and instructed Arlo to lay Elenya down on it.

Hesitantly, he complied. The fear and desperation in him didn't want to let her go, wanted to keep her safe in his arms, but reason quickly took over. As carefully as he could, he placed her on the bed and turned her onto her stomach so that she wouldn't lie on her wound.

At the movement, a pained whimper escaped her, tearing at his heart and at the same time flooding him with slight relief. As painful as the sound was, it told him they weren't too late. Her consciousness was still aware of something.

A horrified gasp went through the room as Elenya's back came into view of the two medics. The bandages that Remi and he had applied as best they could were now completely soaked through, and the mere sight of them made Arlo dizzy.

Oh God, how much blood had she lost by now?

For a moment all he could do was stare at Elenya's back in utter horror until Dr. Xu shooed him away. Or at least tried to.

He tried to force his legs to move, but another overwhelming wave of emotions had overtaken him, leaving him motionless. Paralysed, he stared down at the petite figure of his wife, his everything, who had risked her life to save his.

A hand wrapped around his upper arm and pulled him a few steps away, but he barely noticed.

Dr. Xu's voice broke through Arlo's trance, sharp and authoritative. "Arlo, I need you to step back. We need to tend to her injuries."

Arlo tore his eyes from Elenya's still form, his heart pounding in his chest. He nodded, feeling a mixture of guilt and helplessness. He stumbled back, his legs feeling weak beneath him. Remington stood at his side, a supportive presence in the midst of the chaos.

"Come on, let's give these two some space so they can work undisturbed." Without waiting for a response, Remi pulled him out of the clinic and over to their headquarters.

Arlo wanted to resist, couldn't bear to leave Elenya alone, but Remi's gentle but firm grip on his upper arm wouldn't budge. Only when they were standing in the middle of the large room of their headquarters did Remi let go of him.

Not knowing what to do with himself, Arlo stopped. Completely lost, he stared unseeingly into the air before him until two strong hands placed themselves on his shoulders and brown eyes bored into his. There was deep concern and tension in them as well, but Remi was far more composed than he was.

"Arlo, everything is going to be fine. Elenya's strong and Dr. Xu and Phyllis know what they're doing. She'll be fine, okay?"

Arlo nodded weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know, Remi. It's just... seeing her like that, covered in blood... I can't shake that image."

Remington's grip on Arlo's shoulders tightened reassuringly. "I understand, Arlo. But right now you need to take care of yourself as well. You're covered in her blood and that's not going to help anyone."

Arlo's gaze drifted down to his blood-soaked clothes and a shudder ran through him. He hadn't even realised how much of Elenya's blood had gotten on him during their desperate struggle to save her. The reality hit him like a punch to the gut, and his stomach churned at the sight.

"You're right," he managed to croak, his throat tightening. "I need to clean up."

Remington patted his back sympathetically. "Take a shower, get the blood off you. I'll bring you some of my clothes."

Numbly, Arlo made his way to the bathroom. His movements were mechanical, his mind still clouded by the terrible events of the day. As he turned on the water and stepped into the shower, he felt the warmth seep into his skin, but he couldn't shake the coldness that seemed to have settled in his bones.

The blood was diluted now, swirling down the drain with the water. But even the sight of it disappearing didn't lighten the weight on his chest. He couldn't get the image of Elenya's injured form out of his mind, and the realisation of how close he had come to losing her was suffocating.

On top of that came this incredible anger. By now he didn't know whether he was more angry at her or at himself. How could he have missed the seventh Miner Variant? Why hadn't he noticed it sneaking up on him? And why, why had Elenya thrown herself in between?

Arlo abruptly turned off the shower, stumbled out and collapsed on the bathroom floor. His breath came in ragged gasps and he covered his mouth with his hand, fighting the urge to vomit. The blood, the fear, the helplessness, the anger - it was all too overwhelming.

Remington's voice echoed in his head, urging him to take care of himself. Arlo pressed his palms against his temples, his heart racing as he concentrated on the sound of his own uneven breathing. Slowly, his pulse began to steady and he pushed himself to his feet.

With trembling hands, he reached for a towel and wrapped it around himself, noticing that Remi had left some clothes on the counter for him. Barely controlling his emotions, he dried himself and pulled on the simple t-shirt and sweatpants. With one last look in the mirror to make sure all the blood had been washed away, he left the bathroom.

Outside, Remi was waiting for him with a slight smile.

"Better?"

Arlo nodded curtly. It was an outright lie, but Remington was just as worried about Elenya and he didn't want to burden him with his out of control emotions.

"I'm glad to hear that. I'll take a shower as well, okay?" Remi demonstratively showed him another bundle of clean clothes and Arlo nodded again. He couldn't get a word out of his tightened throat.

With one last worried look, Remi disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Arlo alone with his inner turmoil. The training dummy, silent witness to his torment, caught his eye. Without even thinking about wrapping his hands or putting on gloves, he unleashed his pent-up emotions on the inanimate object. Each punch carried the weight of his anger, fear, and despair, as if he could physically beat away the tormenting 'whys' that plagued his thoughts.

The room seemed to shrink around him as he sought refuge in his relentless assault on the dummy. The dull thuds of his fists against the worn fabric filled the space, mirroring the cacophony of questions that echoed in his mind. Each blow was a futile attempt to find answers, a way to rationalise the incomprehensible.

His knuckles split open, but he didn't notice. The pain in his hands was nothing compared to the agony in his heart. Blood mixed with sweat, staining the dummy and his hands in a gruesome display of his inner turmoil. Yet, he didn't care about the pain or the mess; he needed an outlet for the overwhelming emotions threatening to consume him.

Time became a blur as he lost himself in this frenzied assault. He didn't know how long he had been at it when suddenly two strong hands closed around his upper arms, pulling him away from his desperate endeavour. Arlo fought the grip with all his might, every fibre of his being yearning to return to the only solace he'd found in this moment of chaos.

"Arlo! Stop!" The voice, barely recognisable through his tumultuous thoughts, penetrated his consciousness. Remi's familiar voice made him stop and clarity returned to his thoughts.

Arlo's laboured breaths filled the room as his arms fell powerlessly to his side. His eyes were wild, a storm of emotions swirling within them. He felt vulnerable, exposed, as if his soul had been laid bare. The 'whys' still echoed, but now there was another question fighting for dominance: "Why couldn't he protect her?"

As if in a trance, he followed the drops of blood dripping from his hands to the floor.

Drip, drip, drip...

Another pair of shoes slid into his field of vision and he recognised them as Sam's.

When had she come in?

Confused, he lifted his gaze slightly from her shoes to her green eyes and was greeted with deep concern. A sad smile sat on her lips.

Shame crept up his spine and for a moment he tried to control his emotions, to get into his 'captain' mode, but quickly realised he didn't have the strength. Instead, his shoulders slumped even more and he let Remi lead him over to one of the yellow armchairs without resistance.

He could hear Sam disappearing into the bathroom as he was pushed into the chair and a short time later Sam was kneeling on the floor in front of him, one of his bloody hands in hers, cleaning his cracked knuckles. The cleaning burned like fire, but instead of complaining, he welcomed the pain. It distracted him from all the terrible feelings that were eating him up inside.

No one spoke a word while Sam tended to his hands and there was a tense, worry-filled silence in the headquarters. Remi, meanwhile, wiped the blood from the floor and the training dummy, and a new wave of shame and guilt washed over Arlo.

Not only was Elenya badly injured because of him (he tried to banish the "maybe even dead" thought from his mind immediately), no, his teammates now had to take care of his mess as well. Couldn't he do anything right today?

15 minutes later, his hands were cleaned and bandaged, and the three of them were sitting squashed together on their couch. There had still been no word from either of them, and Arlo was grateful to his two friends. Nothing anyone could say to him would help him now. Only Dr. Xu telling him that Elenya would be fine would be able to quell his fear.

He didn't know how long they sat there. His thoughts were solely on his wife, who was fighting for her life one building away. All alone, without him.

His heart tightened painfully for the hundredth time today and with a low groan he buried his face in his bandaged hands. His emotions threatened to overwhelm him again when the door finally opened and an exhausted Dr. Xu entered.

All three of them were instantly on alert as they watched Dr. Xu walk over to them and drop into the chair beside them.

Before any of them could say anything, the doctor began to speak.

"First things first, she's going to make it."

Immediately, a heavy weight was lifted from Arlo's heart. She was going to make it.

"But it was damn close this time. Really close. Elenya had lost so much blood that her body went into shock and her heart threatened to stop..."

Arlo felt like his heart was going to stop. His sweet little builder had really almost died? The horror must have been written all over his face, because Dr. Xu hurried to continue speaking quickly.

"But we managed to stabilise her! We had enough blood to replace most of the blood she had lost. I cleaned and stitched the wound on her back and bandaged it tightly. She was really lucky. A little further and there would have been a risk of nerves in her spine being severed. But as far as I can tell at the moment, she should recover almost completely. However, I cannot promise that she will ever regain full use of her arm. The cut did a lot of damage to her shoulder muscles."

Exhausted, Dr. Xu sank further into the soft cushion of the chair after his explanation, letting his words sink in for the three of them.

Arlo didn't know what to feel. The strongest was relief, followed by pain at the thought of what Elenya would have to endure over the next few weeks, and then there was that anger that wouldn't let go of him.

She might have risked her career for him. What if she could no longer move her arm enough to pursue her passion for building? How could she risk that just to take the fall of his own inattention?

Remi snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Can we see her?"

Immediately his attention snapped back to Dr. Xu. The latter gave a deep sigh.

"Phyllis is taking care of her right now. I just wanted to let you know in advance that she'll be fine. But I think Arlo can go and see her. I'm sure you're dying to see her."

He didn't need to be told twice. Without really paying attention to the others, he jumped up and a moment later was standing in the clinic, his gaze fixed on the room divider behind which he could hear Phyllis working.

Suddenly completely conflicted about whether he even wanted to know what was behind it, he approached the hospital bed with hesitant steps.

The first thing he saw were Elenya's feet, covered by a light white blanket. The closer he got, the more came into his field of vision. He quickly saw that she was turned onto her right side, large pillows behind her back ensuring that she couldn't turn onto her back and onto her wound.

He stopped at the foot of the bed. Now he could see what Phyllis was doing. She was gently wiping the dirt and blood from Elenya's face with a basin of water and a soft cloth. She had already braided Elenya's long black hair into a loose plait to keep it out of the way, giving Arlo a clear view of her pale and slightly sunken cheeks.

Seeing those beloved features, as unhealthy as they looked at the moment, relieved him a little more and he let his gaze slide down to her shoulder. Her left arm was resting on a large pillow and her entire torso was wrapped in thick bandages, but now they were pristine white and another weight fell from his heart.

The only blood left was covering Elenya's forearm. Phyllis had probably not yet had time to clean it.

An uncontrollable desire to touch Elenya suddenly overcame him and he cleared his throat softly to get Phyllis' attention. Startled, she turned to him.

"Oh, Arlo, I didn't hear you come in. I need a moment, then you can sit with her." A warm, reassuring smile graced her lips, but he couldn't wait any longer.

"Can I maybe...?" It was only at the sound of his raspy voice that he realised how long it had been since he'd said anything, but didn't let it faze him. His hand pointed first to the soft rag in her hand, then to Elenya's blood-encrusted arm. Confused, Phyllis looked at him for a moment before she seemed to understand what he was asking. Her gaze softened even more.

"Of course. You just have to be very careful not to move her shoulder. It was very difficult to sew the wound and the stitches are very fragile." She handed him the cloth and made room for him.

Silently, he sat down on the chair beside the bed and dipped the cloth into the lukewarm water from the basin on the table beside the bed. He wrung out the excess water and then wiped the last bit of dirt from Elenya's forehead as gently as he could.

Once the spot was clean, he pressed his lips gently against it and whispered against her forehead: "Hey, sweetie. I'll watch over you, okay? I'll take care of you."

With the same tenderness, he continued to clean every bit of dirt and blood from her skin until she was as clean as she could be. Phyllis took the basin of dirty water from him, checked once more that Elenya was lying correctly and that the IV needle in the back of her hand hadn’t slipped, then left him alone.

Once more he pressed a long, warm kiss against Elenya's forehead and then leaned back in the chair to watch over her healing sleep.

For four days he sat there almost non stop, four long days in which Elenya didn't stir. Soothed the light fever she developed with a cool cloth, tried to dispel any bad dreams and whispered loving, encouraging words in her ear. And then, on the morning of the fifth day, he had just come into the clinic, freshly awakened from a fitful sleep in his old room, her eyelids finally fluttered open and her beautiful green eyes appeared.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Elenya awoke in confusion. Where was she?

The first thing she noticed was that she was lying on her right side. Nothing unusual at first, she usually slept on her side, but then there was usually a muscular, warm chest beneath her, with a strong, reassuring heartbeat beating beneath it.

But there was no heartbeat under her ear, and the mattress she was lying on was definitely not hers. There also seemed to be several pillows behind her, preventing her from rolling over. In general, there were a lot of pillows around her. Her left arm also appeared to be resting on one. This, together with a tight bandage around her upper body, kept her in a stable position.

What was going on?

There was only one way to find out.

With difficulty she managed to open her eyes, and instantly all the tension that had built up inside her disappeared as her eyes fell on the familiar redhead in front of her.

Arlo was here, so at least she was safe. He was rubbing his eyes and didn't notice that she had woken up, but as soon as he lowered his hands and his gaze fell on her open eyes, his features lit up.

"Elenya, sweetheart! You're awake!" Joyfully, his slightly hoarse voice echoed through the room and his warm hand came to rest gently on her cheek. He leaned closer to her.

"It's good to see those beautiful eyes again. I was so worried. How are you feeling?" A warm but strained smile graced his lips and for a moment she could only stare at him.

Deep shadows lay under his eyes, his face was pale, and his normally bright blue eyes seemed dull. And she thought she hadn't imagined the bruised knuckles she'd just caught a glimpse of. What had happened?

She could barely remember. They were in the desert, that much she remembered, but what had happened after that? What had made Arlo so worried?

Elenya tried to ask him, but her mouth was completely dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. A strangled sound left her throat.

"Oh, I'm sorry, darling. Here." Arlo seemed to realise immediately what her problem was and reached for the glass on the table next to the hospital bed on which she must have been lying. A straw rested in it, which he now gently slipped between her lips.

She sucked greedily at the straw, enjoying the way the cool water moistened first her mouth and then her dry throat. Before she could empty the glass in quick gulps, though, Arlo pulled it away from her again. A protesting sound escaped her.

"Slow down, sweetheart, or you'll get sick. You've been unconscious for four days, your stomach needs to get used to liquids again." He stroked her hair apologetically, but his words made her forget her lingering thirst.

Four days? She had been unconscious for four days ? That would explain at least one thing. No wonder Arlo looked so exhausted. Worry must have been eating him up inside.

"Arlo?" She was startled by the weak, exhausted tone of her voice. Was that really her?

"Yes, sweetheart?" His hand slid from her hair down to her cheek, and with a soft sigh, she snuggled into his warm palm.

"What... what exactly happened?" Her second attempt to speak wasn't any better, but Arlo had no trouble understanding her.

"You want to know what happened?" To her surprise, his face suddenly twisted with anger and he withdrew his hand. "You almost died, that's what happened! Because you were a bloody idiot!" He was seething.

"How could you be so careless? I took you with me because I know you can look after yourself. But I didn't expect you to be stupid enough to get between me and the sharp scythe of a Miner Variant. What the hell were you thinking?!"

Furious, Arlo paced in front of her bed, running his hands through his hair and breathing heavily.

Concern rose in Elenya. She had never seen Arlo so angry, let alone at her, and she didn't know how to handle that.

At the mention of a scythe, however, images finally surfaced in her mind that would explain quite a bit.

"Why the hell did you do that? Why?" He stopped in front of the chair.

"You could have died, for fuck's sake! And it would have been my fault..." His voice broke on the last words and he collapsed on the chair, crying.

Her heart broke in two at the sight and she was overcome with guilt.

She didn't regret what she'd done, but she'd never wanted to put Arlo through that kind of pain.

"Arlo..." She wanted to reach for him, wipe away his tears, but even the slightest tensing of her arm sent terrible pain from her shoulder to her spine, and with a shocked gasp, she quickly dropped her hand back to the pillows in front of her.

Like fire, the pain spread down her back and she couldn't stop herself from whimpering.

Oh God...

"Elenya, stop! Please, don't move. You'll open your stitches!" Quick as a flash, Arlo shot back up from his chair. Anger still radiated from him, but his touch was all gentle and careful as he placed his large hand on top of hers, stopping her from moving any further.

Not that she had any intention of doing that again.

She struggled to breathe through the pain, tears streaming down her face as the agony refused to subside, taking her breath away.

"Hey, shhh, you're okay. Come on, take a deep breath. You can do this. Just breathe." Gently, Arlo's free hand stroked through her hair and she desperately concentrated on the sensation of his warm hands.

After several agonising minutes, the pain gradually subsided, leaving her utterly exhausted and her muscles limp. Arlo still clasped her hand in his and used his other hand to gently wipe away her tears. With great effort, she managed to flip her hand beneath his, offering a weak squeeze as an apology.

"I'm sorry, Arlo. I didn't mean to cause you so much pain." Her voice was so weak and she could feel her body fighting to stay awake, but she really needed to talk to him about it.

There was so much pain, fear and anger in his eyes and she wanted, needed , to calm at least some of it.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you like that..." Arlo pulled the chair closer to the bed and sank into it, exhausted, never letting go of her hand. "It's just... I don't understand. Why would you do something like that? What were you thinking?" Confusion and distress etched his face, and another tear slipped from his eye.

How she longed to wipe it away.

"To be honest... I wasn't thinking at all. I just saw you being attacked from behind and I... just acted. One moment I saw the raised scythe, and the next... searing pain, and then nothing..." Her voice weakened with each word, but she fought the exhaustion. She couldn't sleep now. Arlo needed her.

He flinched slightly when she mentioned pain and then ran a stressed hand through his hair.

"That was so stupid of you. Besides the big scar you will now bear forever, Dr. Xu said you might never get full use of your arm again. If that happens, you might never be able to build anything again, and all of this just to protect me. I just don't understand how you could do something so stupid..." Desperately he looked at her, confusion still deep in his eyes.

Before she could answer him, what he'd said hit home. For a moment, Elenya's world stopped. She might have to give up her profession? But... what would she do then?

For a split second, she regretted what she had done, but then that thought immediately vanished again. If she hadn't done what she had, she might have lost Arlo forever, and she couldn't bear that. She would rather not swing a hammer for the rest of her life than live without Arlo for even one day.

And she decided to tell him just that.

"I love you, Arlo. So very much. I'm sorry I caused you so much worry and pain, but I'd do it again any time. I can't imagine my life without you. I would rather not be able to work another day than have to be without you." Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes, but Arlo was quick to wipe them away.

"Oh, my sweet, idiot builder. I don't want to spend a day without you either. But that's what almost happened. For a moment, I thought I had lost you." A brief flicker of despair crossed his face, but it quickly disappeared, replaced by a look of love. Gently, he pressed his forehead against hers.

"I love you so much, darling. Please always remember that I can't lose you any more than you can." A short pause. "But thank you for saving my life."

For an eternally long moment they looked deeply into each other's eyes, lost in the familiar feeling of love, until Elenya's last reserves of strength were used up. Without her consent, her eyes kept falling shut, but she kept trying to fight it.

She didn't want to sleep again. Arlo was here with her.

But he, of course, saw her exhaustion and, after a gentle kiss against her forehead, moved away from her.

"You need to rest, darling. Sleep."

"But..."

"I'll be here when you wake up." Arlo, as always, seemed to know exactly what was going on inside her and so she finally gave in.

Her eyes closed, Arlo's gently smiling face disappearing behind her eyelids, but exhausted as she was, sleep wouldn't come.

She felt strangely cold. Not physically cold, but mentally. As if something was missing. But what?

With a soft sigh she opened her eyes again. Maybe Arlo could help her? He always knew how to make her feel better.

Concerned blue eyes met hers as her vision finally focused.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?" Arlo's voice dripped with concern and she hurried to deny his question.

"No, it's just... I don't know... I can't fall asleep." Seeking help, she looked at him. Her head was swimming with exhaustion and she could feel her body crying out for sleep. But then why wasn't it coming?

The worry didn't leave Arlo's gaze and thoughtfully he looked at her. For a long time he said nothing, until suddenly he started to take off his sweater.

Confused, Elenya watched him. What was he up to? Not that she ever minded him taking his clothes off, but that usually didn't help her fall asleep.

As he held the soft, grey garment in his hands, he slid it as gently as possible under her head and adjusted it until the collar of the sweater was directly under her nose. The fabric was still slightly warm against her cheek, and with the familiar scent now rising directly into her nose, something inside her settled. The empty feeling inside her disappeared and her eyes closed in relief.

It seemed she had missed Arlo .

"Thank you..." The words left her lips like a soft breath, her mind already half asleep and only vaguely aware of Arlo's warm lips pressing against her temple.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Sleep well, my heart."

#bad things happen bingo #bad things happen bingo: anger born of worry #my time at portia #mtap #mtap arlo #my time at portia arlo #mtap female builder #mtap builder elenya #hurt/comfort #arlo my love

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rithmeres · 11 months

Note

ive absorbed so much trigun content through you and i still have no idea what it is about. what is it about please

ok so basically. there’s this manga which you can read here and also two tv shows (1998’s Trigun and 2023’s TRIGUN: Stampede) but so far i’ve only seen the 2023 reboot. ‘98 came out before the manga was done so it’s not the most accurate, but it has like a cowboy bebop vibe i’m told. i haven’t even read the manga (yet) (call me a fake fan if u want) but basically it’s like this: desert planet, space western, pacifism, christian imagery, PAIN, sibling relationships that will make u tear out your hair, fighting over resources, the nature of humanity, worms, love and peace and mercy.

most of the following character descriptions will be skewed towards stampede because that’s all i’ve got for now, but here are the main guys:

Vash the Stampede (aliases: the humanoid typhoon, babygirl, el wiwi, vashie, my beautiful girlfriend) has every mental illness inshallah and is wanted in 12 different jurisdictions for Crimes, but he loves people so much and he’s the sweetest staunchest pacifist the world has ever seen and he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt and he suffers for it like jesus.

Wolfwood, Nicholas D., (aliases: the punisher, el woowoo, ww, nico, nick, crucifix jim, (and unfortunately, Bigolas Dickolas)) is goth in the desert and carries a giant cross on his back. while this rips severely (<- factual) it is purely symbolic and certainly isn’t a giant gun that shoots lasers (<- lying). i can’t tell you things about him without spoilers. in the manga he’s a priest, in stampede he’s an undertaker.

Meryl Stryfe, our audience surrogate, is either a reporter or an insurance agent depending on the version of the story, but regardless of her occupation she’s trying to find vash for work-related reasons. area woman won’t stop collecting random shady men from the desert to add to her found family (and sometimes hitting them with her car)

Nai, or Millions Knives, is (one of) our main antagonist(s) and the absolute madman plays the piano and wears either 1) basically nothing or 2) a clothing item that can only be described as an evil snuggie made out of knives. i am not making this up. he’s a massive hater and he wants all humans to die btw but i actually love him and he’s got a specific sauce that makes him far from your regular boring evil villain

supporting characters in stampede include a kid made out of bugs, meryl’s drunk coworker, [REDACTED]’s little brother, the world’s best foster mom #1, the world’s best foster mom #2, blue-hair-and-pronouns, a mad scientist, and brad.

to my limited knowledge stampede functions as something of a prequel (?) to parts of the manga so i would suggest starting with stampede (beautiful) (only 12 episodes) and then tackling the manga (what i plan to do) if you want to give trigun a shot (so to speak).

or just talk to spacekrakens idk she got me into this mess and she knows more than me

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druidx · 20 days

Text

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 12

CW: None AO3; Chapters: 01. 10. 11. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannahcbrown, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster

Elo lets herself into the chambers from a side door. Her footsteps ring out as she passes over the multicoloured marble floor. The giant semicircular window, against which the menfolk are silhouetted in the waning daylight, rests against the semicircular speaking floor like someone has taken an oblique wedge from an orange. From the curve of the speaking floor, seating rises like a lecture hall to meet the domed roof. She's always thought this room is beautiful – perhaps more so when it's not filled with bickering politicians. The wooden balustrades are lovingly carved with vines and mythical creatures, the domed roof is moulded and painted with cornucopias, and the speaking floor is inlaid with the Triumvirate's seal in shimmering brass and coloured marble. "Good evening, your Majesty. Acting Magister. Exchequer," Elo greets them. Outside the window, the orange sun is captured on myriad windows, making the city blaze. "Lady Toreguarde," King Storri says, inclining his head in greeting. "It is indeed a fine eve." He takes a step to the right and invites her, with a wave of a hand, to watch the sunset with them. "'Sargent' is fine," she mutters as she stands next to him. He flashes a smile. She hadn't meant for him to hear the comment, but after the day she's had, Elo can't bring herself to care. "It is a beautiful sight," King Storri says. "Yes," Elo replies, and it is. She can think of no fairer sight than her city; at any hour or in any weather, she loves the sight of it. The sun has dipped lower now, the sky turning from amethyst to navy. Along the canals, the bargemens' lights twinkle merrily along their darkling paths. The Exchequer clears his throat. "If you'll excuse me, your Majesty, I fear I have more work to do, ere our meetings tomorrow." "Of course," King Storri says with a dip of his head. With a mumbled, "Good night." the sallow man hurries away. Clayrmantle grumbles something to himself, then, "Alas, I should also depart. Early birds and worms, et cetera. Good night, your Majesty. Oh, your Majesty? Don't forget about tomorrow night." "Mm. God nat, Magister." "Elowyn, dear?" Clayrmantle says as he steps away. Elo pulls her gaze away from where the stars now glitter across the firmament. "Yes, Thazar?" "Kindly ensure the king is abed before midnight?" "I'll do my best, sir." With a fatherly smile, Clayrmantle nods and departs.

King Storri is deep in his thoughts, so Elo lets them gaze over the city for a few moments longer before calling him back. "Your Majesty?" He sucks in a breath, as though he has been very far away. "Dinner, sir." "Yes, Sargent."

Elo leads him out to the now deserted corridors of City Hall. "What's happening tomorrow night, sir?" "May we speak on it over dinner? I find I am quite exhausted and would prefer to broach the subject with a full stomach," King Storri says. "Of course, sir. Where would you like to dine? There are several Michelin-starred restaurants in the city, that your Majesty may find pleasing–" "Stop." Elo stops walking, looking at the King with eyebrows raised. "I find myself wanting a quiet evening. Where would you recommend?" "Um. I'm told chefs at the Emerald Star are excellent, if your Majesty wants to dine in your suite…?" "No. I wish to know where you would recommend," he says, pointing at Elo. "Sir, I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid I can't help," Elo says. "A copper's salary doesn't lend itself well to eating out. The rare times I eat out, it's at one of two pubs. Neither of which, I should add, are remotely appropriate places to take someone of your station." King Storri lifts his chin. "Tell me what they are called." Elo tilts her head incredulously. "Sir–" "Tell. Me." Elo keeps her glare up for a touch longer than is necessary, but the King does not blink, so she relents. "The Slippery Slope, and the Skiving Scholar." It comes out muttered. "Which is the cleanest?" "I really think your Majesty should reconsider. I'm told the fowl at Bourdain's is exquisite, and Passport Plates, though the name is a bit kitschy–" "Of your pubs, which is the cleanest?" Elo closes her eyes and takes a breath. "The Scholar, your Majesty." "It sounds like a fine establishment. We shall go there."

With that, King Storri turns and begins to stride away. "Your Majesty… Excuse me– Sir!" Elo calls after him. The King stops. "How are we getting there – have you been given use of a chauffeur? Or are we packing everyone onto a public bus?" King Storri tilts his head. "I was informed you have your own transport." "I have a motorcycle that barely fits two. Again, not really appropriate for a King," Elo gesticulates wildly. "Not to mention insufficient for transporting your security detail." "Are you suggesting I will need them?" "Yes. The scholars can get remarkably rowdy." He quirks an eyebrow. "You are suggesting that the fabled Lady of Toreguarde will not be enough to assure my safety?" "Correct. The fabled Lady of Toreguarde got her title by working alongside your Chief of Security, Meredeth Gruksdottir. Who, incidentally, is going to kick me into next week if I let you swan off without your security detail." "You are suggesting we may find ourselves in such a dire situation, I would need them?" "Abso-fucking-lutly! Toreguard is dangerous. Maybe not as much as other places, but still. And even if we didn't, that's not the point! They are your security detail. It is their job, as well as mine, to keep you safe. I will not have you risking their livelihoods and reputations because you want to go rogue. At the very least, I have to inform Agent Ironforge of your whereabouts, or she will eviscerate me. "So you sit your royal ass down and don't you dare move until I've returned, you emmerdement. Am I understood?" And great, she's shouting at him again. It's been mere hours since she was told she'd used her one free pass. His face is a rictus of shock, and cue declarations of war in three, two– King Storri beams. "You are everything they said you were and more," he says, the grin turning smug and self-satisfied. Eloquently, Elo says, "Who? What? Huh?" "Agents Ironforge and Copperheart, and your Mother." "Aunt," Elo corrects on reflex because he is surely talking about Alexis rather than Oakrose. "Your Aunt then, Alexis," King Storri inclines his head. He turns away. "Come. We have much to speak of over dinner." Elo crosses her arms. "Sir, I think you're forgetting something." The King turns back, an eyebrow raised. "I will allow you, this once, to take a quiet meal without the furore of your security detail. But Agent Ironforge will have me drawn and quartered if I don't report your intentions and whereabouts. Please wait here while I do so." "Very well," King Storri says, still smiling as he settles himself into one of the many chairs dotted through the corridor.

#oc elowyn o'toreguarde #npc storri nargondsson #npc thazar clayrmantle #oc lerrald brauma #writing #HCWL Chapters only #WIP 'Her Countenance was Light'#titan fighting fantasy #fighting fantasy #ttrpg fanfiction #wandering words

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beautifulpersonpeach · 7 months

Note

BPP Hi! I second your anon who talked about DPR IAN. I've learned about so many cool artistes from reading your blog too. I got into BOYNEXTDOOR after you mentioned them and BPP I am obsessed. Can we please talk more abt them? Do you have a bias?

***

Haha hello!

I've been learning more about the group too and I love them. This might be TMI (Korean meaning), but a friend was actually telling me last week that it's possible I could become a multi on account of this group looool. But I doubt it. I love them but still need to observe them first.

I certainly have a bias in Taesan though. The guy's a freak. With good taste in books. Calls himself the translation of his name "Giant Mountain"... He's mine.

Maybe I should say I'm triple biased actually, because Myung Jaehyun and Woonhak also seem to have wormed their way in. Riwoo, Leehan, and Sungho are exceptional too. They're all dorks so I'm certainly OT6 on this group. They're the real deal.

Sungho

Leehan

Taesan and Leehan

(...)

Woonhak

Riwoo

Jaehyun

I've talked about how good their music is before so I won't rehash it. The stage I'm at now anyway is building my understanding of the members. Who they are, what their duo/band relationships are like, etc.

Also, random but Taesan reminds me a lot of Taka. He kinda sounds like him and looks sorta like him...

...it's obvious, right? I love how weird and awesome that is.

Anyway, I like Boy Next Door a lot too. Feel free to send me any asks you have on them. I'll be very happy to talk about them and post their pics. :)

(Their visuals are top of the line.)

Let me know what you want to talk about on the group.

#boynextdoor #boy groups #bnd #taesan #myung jaehyun #riwoo #leehan #woonhak #sungho #koz entertainment #kpop #kpop music

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student-in-nightraven · 1 year

Note

hello, can i request a match make with twisted wonderland boy please? thank you!

my pronouns are they/them and im intp-t and my zodiac sign is virgo.

my personality: im really shy and kind of awkward when socializing others bcos im not really good interacting with them so i just stay in the sideline where i observe people and their behavior and thats the reason why people depict me as intimidating and hard to approach and also bcos of my stoic expression too but when im with my close friends, im really bubbly and more comfortable with them. im really quite moody sometimes and i also tend to overthink things. i always listen to my friends whenever they're having a problem and just be there for them sometimes pitching in some advice now and then. im also the type of person to run away from their problems and tend to push people away bcos i dont want to burden them, i also laugh at small things, im also the type of person to read a body language very well bcos of my observant nature. i also get insecure with my appearance too, im also blunt with my words too i do not sugarcoat things.

my hobbies/likes includes writing stories and reading books, poetry composition, learning about stars and outer space, watching horror videos on yt, staying up all night writing down my ideas about my next stories, sleeping, i also have a fascination to ocean and i tend to stare at it, dark academia, i also like abandoned places especially if its haunted, i also love matcha green tea, i also like dark clothes, i really love a meadow full of lavenders

my dislikes are loud people including loud places too, vegetables (depends on my mood), cheaters and playboys, worms, hot weather, arrogant people

that's all and thank you!! 🌾

Was deciding between Jade and Riddle but I decided that

I match you with..

...Riddle!

Riddle relates to the problem you have with people approaching you, he too has problems with people not wanting to interact with him because of his overblot and strict demeanor, so whenever riddle sees you just standing and watching others instead, he walks up to you to keep you company and start a conversation, since your bubbly around close friends and riddle is your match you act the same around him and he really appreciates that, warms his heart everytime you do so.

You know how your always there to give advice to people when they have problems? Yeah tables turned with riddle, he's gonna be the one to help you out of your overthinking state, if it's about anything he can physically help fix he'll do so or give you tips how to fix it.

Ps. Please don't push Riddle away, you are definitely not a burden to him, in fact he feels a giant comfort whenever you're around

You can tell whenever he is feeling down, whether it's because of an exam, remembering his overblot or even because of his mother, you know his upset and you always help cheer him up. He loves writing poetries with you, you 2 write love poems for eachother and gift them to eachother all the time. For a date he took you out on a clear night so that you could stargaze together (he will REFUSE to watch horror movies, he thinks they're ridiculous but really he's just scared and doesn't want to show it)

Whenever you go out to try and find an abandoned place my boy comes running after you screeching "you're gonna die don't go", bro goes through a heartattack everytime you even mention going to a abandoned house. He absolutely adores having private tea parties with you, (he prepares a matcha tea for you)

In my eyes you 2 are a perfect match, the elegant couple(?) You both are truly in love♡⁠˖

Thank you for the request dear annon!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst fluff #x reader #matchmaker #fypage

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cloudbattrolls · 11 months

Text

Might Makes Wrong

Gliese Benral | Benral Hedge Maze | Present Night

Gliese, for all her tendency to snarl and slash at anything that threatened her, could be patient.

The blueblood could send her new necromantic constructs - far more hardy and mobile than her first ones, which had come apart with one good kick and and moved at a snail’s pace - out to patrol the corners of her hedge maze and report back to her. Creations of bone, magically improved dead flesh, and plants, they served her well.

She could have them trap a zombie, entangling her in thorny vines.

Gliese rode up to the struggling, flailing undead on her lusus, the psychic wearing a hard and satisfied grin.

“Well, well, well, look who we have here. The world’s shittiest undead. Any last words, chickie?”

Zeller looked at her with genuine fear in her mismatched eyes, her large ears pinned back.

“I don’t - I haven’t come close in weeks, love, what’s this about? I’ve hardly even seen Shedir lately…”

She sounded sad about it. Boo fucking hoo.

“Who cares?” Drawled the cuspy cerulean. “You’re here now, this is still my territory. I knew if I just waited a few weeks, your ugly mug would pop up again. Anyway, time to die, unless you do have some last words.”

“Wait!” said the woman, panicked. “I - I promise I was coming to tell you something helpful. About the mannequins.”

The hare troll’s eyebrows raised and she shifted her position on her lusus. The giant saber-toothed hare, despite his more limited expressions, looked just as dismissive as his charge. One lapine ear flicked idly as his daughter considered her captive’s words.

“Why?” Asked Gliese bluntly. “Why would you fucking bother? You know I want to kill you, and now I can, no matter what regeneration you have. As far as I’m concerned, I’m doing everyone a favor, especially me.” Her nose wrinkled as she recalled the undead’s attempts to flirt with her. Fucking gross.

“Please.” begged Zeller, some trace of an almost-familiar accent creeping back into her voice instead of the apparently false one she’d been using. What a dipshit poser.

“Please, the mannequins…you don’t understand how bad it is…you haven’t even been looking into it, have you? That other undead you were so busy with, oh my…I could feel him. Feel his power. A beacon…well, they’re like the hands of a beacon, but I scarce understand why or how.”

“Fuck’s sake, don’t be so cryptic.” Said the blueblood impatiently. “I don’t have all night. Really doing a shit job of convincing me to spare you.”

The plant zombies’ thorny vines gripped the lanky woman tighter and she cried out in pain.

“I’m not - not trying to be!” She said, almost sobbing. “It’s all terribly - augh - terribly tangled! I have trouble following it m-myself! P-please, just loosen…ack…l-loosen them a little…there’s a good girl…”

“Barf.” Said Gliese in disdain, but did so with a flick of her magic, a few blue lights swirling with the usual steady orange glow of her eyes.

“Thank you.” wheezed the zombie, her fancy clothing now mangled and shredded. “You really are…quite the stunner! Ha ha…I don’t mean that like I used to…no, you remind me of him…except better to look at, hahaha…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re crazy, I get it, now get to the point.” Snapped the highblood.

“Am I so daft? I guess I am…well, who wouldn’t be…I think I’ve earned a little daftness, for little old me. Little old Zeller had to see trolls dragged away…learned the hard way it was nearly her, for once it was lucky I got my kill stolen! Oh, they like suffering, I think…suffering without cause…screaming and struggling. They remind me of him too…” She trailed off, staring into the hedges.

“Maybe if I had been more like him, I’d have lived! Hm. Or maybe I’d have died…there must have been others who died, it’s been so long, and Tuuya is so much older than me, I hear…”

Zeller said the worm swarm’s name in a strange way; half longing, half jealousy, with a craving that had an ache to it.

Gliese’s glowing eyes narrowed.

“Okay, I really shouldn’t give a fuck, and I will probably regret asking, but what the hell is your deal with them? You don’t seem to have met them but you’re fucking obsessed. Why?”

The stitched-up undead gave a strange and terrible sad needle smile broken only by a small pair of buckteeth. Her short wavy hair was all askew from her rough treatment.

“Well, dearie, you could say we’re connected.”

Wait. She had teeth like - ears like - hair like - regenerated from fire like -

“Oh holy fuck.” Breathed the blueblood. “No way.”

Zeller nodded as enthusiastically as she could while trapped by vines.

“God.” Gliese groaned. “I knew I’d regret asking because now I want to know. Now I have to let your dumb ass live a little longer.”

“Ehehehehee…” Zeller laughed giddily and slightly hysterically. “Hooked, hm? Like a little fish? Yes, yes, you’re right…but don’t think I’m the first. No, not me. I was the second…worse luck. The first was him.” She said, and her voice became dead and grim.

“Him…I won’t speak his name. Maybe Tuuya has said it…let it grime their lips and tongue…I never will again. I didn’t want the face he gave me either, so I changed it, changed the horns too…oh, it helped not an ounce, it didn’t…not when he came calling.” Her voice wobbled with fear and weariness.

“Yeah that’s super sad.” Drawled Gliese uncaringly. “I’m guessing that was your ancestor? Tuuya’s never mentioned anything about theirs, so I’m still in the dark.”

“Good.” Murmured the undead. “Good…let his name die, like he must have if they are free…yes, my ancestor and theirs. The Lifeweaver. Ha! Should have called him Deathbringer…but he failed after all, because I came back! I came back…” her voice trailed off and she scratched at her neck stitches.

“Yaaaaaaay.” Said Gliese in the most sarcastic deadpan. “Hey, question. How come you’re not worms like they are?”

“Because I was a failure, love.” Said Zeller with a croaky little laugh. “The genetics all wrong…the integration a cock-eyed mess…I lived! I ran away…I had never really wanted it.” She gave a hiccupy little laugh, then shivered.

“He dragged me back to finish it anyway…that’s when it happened. Slept so long, no one was left when I woke…no one except the empire nosing around my cavern. Well, they weren’t nosing for long.”

She had a gleeful, hungry look in her eyes that reminded Gliese why she had to kill this piece of trash.

“Cool story! You won’t get to tell it again.” Commented the blueblood, commanding her own zombies to crush the disgusting undead.

Zeller screamed and begged, but it wasn’t the jadeblood’s pleas that stopped the vines from further tearing her body apart.

Gliese simply hesitated to throw away a potentially useful tool.

Yes, she could make good constructs now, but she wasn’t quite at the level of making sapient ones. Plus, it would be shitty to ask someone alive, someone who actually mattered, to endanger themself trying to investigate this thing.

If anything happened to Zeller, who gave a damn?

“Okay, here’s how it’s going to go, so listen the fuck up.” She said, intent.

The zombie swallowed and nodded. Many of her stitches had burst or ripped and were oozing grayish jade blood, her limbs holding on by shreds that were slowly beginning to weave back together.

Not nearly as fast as Tuuya could, the psychic noted. Zeller really was just a clumsy prototype. No wonder the flamethrower had stopped her for weeks, though sadly not killed her.

“You’re going to only feed on whatever dead people you can find. No killing to eat. I’ll be putting a sensor on you so I’ll know if you do.” She said, eyes narrowed.

“You’re going to find out as much as you can about these mannequins and report back to me. I want it written up, too. We’re keeping records, we’re doing this right. Put a single fucking toe out of line, say any more gross shit to me, and I’m going to find out just how good your regeneration is.” Said the hare troll, soft and deadly.

“O-of course, miss.” Croaked the zombie, ears fully down and flattened against her head.

“Cool, glad we got that sorted out.” Said the psychic casually, almost pleasantly.

The spiky vines slowly released the undead, retracting into the constructs who had captured and held her.

Gliese snorted in amusement at the bedraggled, woebegone zombie trying to put herself back together with shaking limbs as she hopped off her lusus.

She took a few steps toward Zeller and prepared to cast the sensor spell.

The constructs’ vines reached in again with a cerulean haze of magic and the jadeblood flinched, but they didn’t wrap around her this time. Instead a pair of them wrapped around her mangled wrist, their ends weaving something together, and then withdrew.

A blue flower - a forget-me-not on its own slender vine - now circled the undead’s flesh.

“Don’t think you can destroy it.” Said Gliese with a dark chuckle. “Or take it off. That thing’s magic and it’ll outlast even you. It feeds on the remains of your own meals, that’s how I’ll know if you try any shit. And if you do…”

She looked meaningfully at the zombie’s slowly regenerating arms, riddled with puncture wounds.

Zeller nodded, still shaky.

Gliese didn’t bother with a final remark. The psychic merely climbed back on her lusus, and urged the saber-toothed hare to turn around and take her hive.

#gliese benral #zeller #cloud writes #I think that went well. just girly things.#somewhere tuuya feels a disturbance in the force

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new-royston-cursebreakers · 11 months

Note

(Pen pal from Micah to Cricket) Greetings, This letter may be a bit of a surprise, but allow me to explain. I'm a studying wizard of another realm. So far, I've only been able to observe other realms for short periods, and just send things back and forth. Long story short, seems like we're both in need of some friends. (My mentor won't stop nagging me about it.) Not to mention, seems your city is in quite the odd predicament. Then again, I'm in a world where fairies and giants exist, so who am I to compare? I suppose I ought to introduce myself. My name is Micah Cyprus. I'm studying a variety of magic, but have taken a liking to elemental and druidic magic. I have many animal companions, as well as my mentor Rhydian and my family. We live on the outskirts of Stellaris by choice, at least nowadays. Being poor has its own set of perks. You get to learn a thing or two that others don't. It's all about perspective. And speaking of perspective, and I hope it's not a rude question, what's it like being small? (I've tried asking a fairy when I was young, it didn't end too well.) Sadly, I haven't mastered that sort of spell. It seems rather fun! Anyways, do you like animals yourself? What kinds of stories do you like? I would be thrilled to learn more about you! Just leave your letter where you found this one. I'll pick it up tomorrow evening. Cheers, Micah Cyprus (took me a while to get to it, but here ya go!)

(Cricket's left a letter and small book alongside it)

Hi Micah!

First of all, this is probably the coolest letter I’ve ever received! And it’s even sized for me! That’s so considerate of you! I hope my handwriting is big enough for you, I assume your the normal size a human should be? That’s around bracket three right? Like four to seven feet?

Second of all, yeah, I’ve been in some need of friends. Since your from another dimension and you know things about me that I don’t talk about I assume you’ve been watching me? If so, please don’t tell anyone about the situation with my household. I am perfectly fine on my own and will be out of this situation soon enough!

Third of all…MAGIC?! I have a friend who uses magic too! His name’s Auster and he says the kind of magic he uses is called stregoneria! It’s a bunch of stuff with oil and herbs and charms and saints and stuff. I don’t understand a lot of it but I know that it works! He uses it to heal and to help people get good luck. What do you use druidic and elemental magic for? I assume elemental controls the elements, but what does druidic magic do?

Your right that being poor has its own set of perks. I look at my bigger richer friends and their problems and it’s so weird. ^ In New Royston those are the same thing, sorry! My giant friend Gio has a lot to live up to and he’s kinda scared of his parents. If you go through all the effort to be rich, why wouldn’t you want to be nice to your kids? And then your kids can get the money and make more money and pass it on to their kids and your set.

But I don’t think I’d give up being small. Ideally I’d like to have money and also be small. I’ve never really been big before, but I don’t think I’d like it. When you’re small, everywhere takes longer to go to and everything’s colder (Gio says it’s because we ‘have less internal organs compared to our skin’? So we put off more heat than we make) but when you can’t get to places so easily, the places you do go matter more and look all the more beautiful from a worm’s eye view. And when everything is so cold, nothing compares to the warmth from baking bread or being held in a pocket or a giant’s palm. And you learn to be there for other small people. I really hope you can learn a spell to shrink, I think being small is something that everyone should try once if they can. If you can’t, then I hope you can find a friendly giant in your world!

I do like animals, but I don’t get to meet a lot of them. Birds and squirrels are scary, and I’ve heard that bigger animals might try to eat me, but I’d love to meet a dog sometime. I’m a much bigger fan of bugs. On my friend Monty’s bug farm, I get to help take care of woodlice, dragonflies, crickets, all sorts of stuff! I’d love to hear more about your animal companions. As for stories, I tend to like them short and sweet. I left you one of my favorites. (https://archive.org/details/trent_0116405259619/mode/2up)

Hope to hear from you again soon!

Cricket

#character pen pals #held in darkness 🦗#i am getting to these. slowly. i am sleeby #ty so much for the letter! hope you dont mind how much cricket writes. he also talks a lot lol

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inkfamy · 1 year

Text

Saturated Sunlight Ch3

Seven years in the making.

Chapter 3: In which Sunstreaker and Sideswipe have a loving family punch up.

Continuity: G1

Pairings: Sunstreaker/Bluestreak

Read on AO3 or continue here.

“I saw you sparring with Bluestreak earlier.”

Sunstreaker glances over at the flame-red form of his brother, splayed across his berth in a picture of idleness: back propped against the wall and a giant slag-eating grin plastered across his face, fingers twirling a blaster he’s been pretending to clean for half a joor. Sunstreaker’s language banks keep shoving the words “Cheshire Cat” into his awareness and he aggressively quashes the thought. What the frag do felines have to do with anything, anyway?

“Speak Cybertronian,” he snaps back in their native tongue. “It’s bad enough having to speak Earthian around the humans, never mind in private too.”

“English, Sunny,” Sideswipe jibes back, still speaking the ugly Earth language. “It’s called English.”

Too irritated by the lack of logic to the humans’ naming techniques, Sunstreaker almost forgets to retort to the nickname.

“Sunstreaker,” he growls, pausing his delicate maintenance work of using solvent and a fine cloth to clear the grit and dirt from the joints of his fingers. “And they don’t call themselves Engs, do they? Why name this planet’s language English?”

Sideswipe laughs, slapping his servo against his thigh and rocking back and forth on the berth in a motion filled with theatrics, despite it only being the two of them in the habsuite. “There’s no Earth language,” he chokes out around the laughter, “this planet has over seven thousand-”

Sunstreaker uninstalls his downloaded language pack and his twin’s words become weird gibberish in his audials. Ignoring Sideswipe’s hoots of amusement, he leans back to his task; Earth has so many more tiny particles floating around than Cybertron, and they’re forever worming their way under his plate and into his joints. Sideswipe, however, will not be ignored. There are orns when the Unmaker himself seems to whisper encouragement into the red mech’s mischievous mind. Sunstreaker knows that when Sideswipe is sitting quietly in their habsuite it usually means that something loud is about to happen outside, and he resolutely tells himself that he just has to tolerate his brother’s barbs until Prowl comes to drag the red mech away.

“You’ve been sparring with Blue every orn this cycle,” Sideswipe says in deliberate, clipped Cybertronian, setting the blaster down and training his bright gaze on Sunstreaker. His servos grip the edge of the berth and he leans forward, anticipation thrumming through his form.

Sunstreaker purposely doesn’t meet his twin’s intense gaze, pointedly continuing his task and watching Sideswipe’s coiled form from the periphery of his vision.

“I spar every orn,” he grunts in a brusque reply.

“In your downtime.”

“I always spar in my downtime.”

“I saw you correcting his stances.”

“None of these civilians know how to fight.”

“I saw you helping him up after you knocked him down.”

Sunstreaker finally spares his twin a withering look, rolling scornful optics. Sideswipe’s knowing smile is one of someone who thinks they’ve speared their target.

“Isn’t that what comrades are meant to do?” the yellow mech snorts.

Sideswipe laughs again, pleased to have finally drawn the rise he’s been looking for.

“Comrades? Yes,” Sideswipe nods, leaning further forward. “You? Never. You’ve never even offered me a hand when we spar!”

“That’s because you’re an aft.”

Resigning himself to having no peace for the foreseeable joor or so, Sunstreaker reluctantly sets down his cleaning supplies and focuses on his twin. Sideswipe is like a pit hound once he gets hold of an idea, and liable to keep biting and shaking until something interesting falls out. Sideswipe gives a taunting smirk that makes Sunstreaker’s servos tighten with the urge for violence and the red frontliner leans back against the wall again, fixing his yellow twin with a hot stare and a crooked smile.

Sunstreaker meets the stare with a glare of his own, silence spreading between the two mechs like a lake. The breems stretch out, but Sunstreaker has never been bothered by a lack of noise. Slowly Sideswipe’s smile becomes a grin, and though his faceplaces don’t seem to move, the expression begins to turn into something unsettling.

“Cut that out,” Sunstreaker snaps, the words slicing across the room’s quiet. He tosses a cleaning cloth at Sideswipe’s stupid grinning face. “You know that doesn’t work on me.”

Sideswipe hoots a laugh again, snatching the cloth out of the air. Instead of throwing it back, he quickly pockets it into subspace - he always did know how to really push his twin’s buttons - and points a black finger at Sunstreaker.

“You haven’t helped anyone back up since the day you were sparked, Sunny,” he taunts, dropping his thumb to his pointing finger and making a stupid “pshew” noise.

Despite himself, Sunstreaker can’t help but take the bait. Sideswipe is a master of being the most annoying mech known to creation when he wants to be, and he knows just what to say to worm his way under the yellow warrior’s plate.

“Sunstreaker,” he snaps, “and why do you care who I spar with?”

“Can’t a mech have an interest in his brother’s life?” Sideswipe hums, stretching his arms over his helm in an overly nonchalant gesture.

“Why do you care who I spar with?” Sunstreaker repeats, temper rising despite the knowledge that he’s playing straight into Sideswipe’s game.

“We’re not in Kaon any more, Toto,” Sideswipe giggles, actually giggles, resting his chin on one servo and huffing a deep vent. “And don’t you think the little Praxian is kinda cute?”

The comment about Bluestreak catches Sunstreaker off guard, and he scrambles to regain his conversational footing. The weird Earthian name Sideswipe just garbled seems like a prime target.

“What the frag is a Toto?”

Sideswipe’s grin widens again, and Sunstreaker realises he’s made a fatal mistake.

“So you do think Blue is cute,” the red mech taunts.

“No.” Sunstreaker grunts, folding his arms and leaning back, looking away from his twin and ex-venting hard to try and pull his temper back under control.

A flicker of genuine surprise crosses Sideswipe’s face. “You don’t?” he asks, tilting his head.

“No.”

Sunstreaker’s engine grumbles with irritation at the descriptor. He doesn’t think Bluestreak is cute - such a weak and diminutive word shouldn’t be applied to a mech like Bluestreak. The Praxian’s slender frame isn’t cute, it’s agile and lithe. The flicker of his optics as he tracks a hundred targeting prompts a klik isn’t cute, it’s a mark of a seasoned warrior who never turns off. His jumbled, tumbling river of words aren’t cute, they’re the exported feelings and observations of a gentle, kind, and thoughtful spark.

Bluestreak isn’t cute; he’s beautiful.

But Sideswipe’s momentary surprise gives way to a sly look as he picks up on his yellow twin’s moment of reverie. He nods with a carefully measured expression of contemplation, recognising a chink in Sunstreaker’s armour and twisting a knife into it.

“It’s good you don’t think he’s cute,” Sideswipe agrees slowly, nodding his head. “Because I think he’s pretty cute, so maybe I’ll ask him on a da-”

“Sideswipe.” Sunstreaker growls warningly.

But Sideswipe has found a sore spot to worry at.

“What, Sunny?” he leans back again, lacing his fingers behind his head. “If you don’t want him then he’s up for grabs, right? I hear Praxians are a wild time in the berth, you know? Drive them feral with those doorwi-”

“Sunstreaker,” the yellow mech grits out. “And stop being vulgar.”

Sideswipe’s optics are fixed on the ceiling. He waves one servo up, tracing in the air as though caressing something.

“Aw come on Sunny,” he laughs, “I know you’ve heard what they say - I mean, Prowl’s gotta do something to keep Jazz so interested and he’s way more uptight than little Blue-”

The cold fury that usually curls, barely controlled, somewhere in the pit of Sunstreaker’s fuel tanks explodes up, and the warrior’s processor turns white-hot with rage. Before Sideswipe can finish the jibe, Sunstreaker is launching himself off his berth, arm twisting beneath his form to send him flying across the few paces between the two mechs. His servo closes over Sideswipe’s helm and with a barbaric heave he sends the red mech tumbling face-first into the floor.

Sideswipe is unfazed, rolling with the impact and turning to reach up, jam his fingers into a thigh plate, and pull his brother down with a thud. He’s laughing, delighted to have struck a wire. His arms lock around Sunstreaker’s helm, black fins scraping welts in red paint, and playfully tries to hold his twin in a headlock.

“Aww, I’m just joking, Sunny,” he sniggers, “you can have him if you want him.”

Sunstreaker isn’t laughing, though, and instead of playing along with the fight he twists his arms up, catching Sideswipe around the pauldrons and heaving the red mech over his head and throwing him into the door. He’s sick of this stupid planet, of being stuck among organics, of being crammed into a ship with mechs who are too friendly and always too close, of energon rations and following commands and whispered comments and punishment detail. He’s bored of always being on alert for the next Decepticon attack, of patrolling, of listening to debriefs. He misses Kaon, and the fighting pits, and the crowd screaming his name. He misses Cybertron, where there was space and privacy and you could court a mech without -

With a yell of rage he launches himself at his brother, servo balled into a fist to deliver a punch.

Sideswipe isn’t laughing any more. His expression is grim, but hungry. He’ll take entertainment wherever it comes; a joke or a prank or a bloody fight. The two mechs meet in a snarling ball, plates buckling and peeling under one another’s servos. A chunk of Sunstreaker’s helm fin breaks away in Sideswipe’s denta, while Sunstreaker’s knee beats into the red mech’s side until the plate screeches and dents in. At some point the habsuite doors open and they roll out into the corridor, a screaming pile of fury. It isn’t a fight to try and subdue or win, it isn’t even a fight between two gladiators under the brilliant lights of a Kaon pit. It’s two mechs trying to hurt each other as badly as they possibly can.

Somewhere beyond the haze of tearing metal, dripping energon, and the roar of the fury in his audials, Sunstreaker is dimly aware of a voice, then more voices. He doesn’t care. Under his servos Sideswipe twists and hauls and Sunstreaker is rolling back, then he’s using the momentum to rise to his pedes. A few metres away his twin is rising too, and Sunstreaker steps forward again with a roar. There’s a flicker of movement, and someone steps between the two gladiators; Sunstreaker doesn’t even know who it is. No one gets between him and his target. He snatches the smaller mech with one servo, throwing him into a wall and out of his way. Sideswipe’s optics widen with momentary shock, but he grins as Sunstreaker barrels towards him, and red and yellow meet again in a storm of tortured metal.

Dimly Sunstreaker is aware of other mechs around them, of comms pinging frantically across open and closed channels. He ignores them. He ignores the increasingly alarmed pings of “ally, ally” that try to creep into his consciousness. His world is energon leaking down his face and the screech of metal straining against metal and looking for the next spot he can jam in a fist or an elbow and do some damage.

Until a ping burns across his interpersonal systems, searing hot against his cold fury. For a fraction of a moment both twins freeze, locked under the authority of a stand-down command neither of them can ignore.

The split second of silence is interrupted. Sunstreaker feels a huge servo wrap around his chest, lifting him like a ragdoll and slamming him into an orange wall. He’s vaguely aware of Sideswipe, similarly pinned, to his right. The cold rage burns out in his spark, and he sullenly meets the furious optics of Optimus Prime.

Packing ammo has been an almost cathartic task for Sunstreaker since the war began, making it one of Prowl’s less effective choices of punishment.

The rounds click neatly into the channel of the packer, then rattle into place as he loads them into the magazine. The fully loaded magazine is set neatly on top of a pile of likewise finished magazines, and a fresh one is selected to begin the process again. It’s mindless, satisfying, and he doesn’t have to talk to anyone. And no one needs to talk to him.

Sometimes he wonders how fragged up he is to enjoy preparing ammunition that’s going to be fired into another mech’s body.

It’s a job that should be done on a factory line, but in the war the factories were the first to be obliterated beyond all use, and here on earth they didn’t even have the materials to try and build a new one. The soldiers have become well used to the grunt work.

Click. Click. Click. Rattle.

The precise way the rounds fit into the packer, the rhythm of the clicks as they’re placed and then the satisfying noise as they each slide into place… he could almost lose himself in it. If only the fragging energon cuffs didn’t make it ten times more challenging.

Sideswipe was over in Wheeljack’s lab, he knew, probably doing some similarly inane task. He’d heard Jazz quietly telling Prime that the twins should be kept away from one another for a few joors.

Behind him, on the other side of the medbay, the murmured conversation between Ratchet and First Aid drones in his audials. Guilt curls uncomfortably around Sunstreaker’s spark as Ratched fusses over his apprentice. The CMO’s usually gruff bedside manner had vanished when he’d heard about how First Aid got hurt; he’d attempted a mild criticism that the Protectobot should know better than to get between two warriors in a fight, but then he’d thrown a dirty look over to Sunstreaker and begun gently tending to First Aid’s crumpled plating.

Sunstreaker hadn’t meant to hurt First Aid - he hadn’t even known it was the newly sparked Autobot that had tried to break up their fight, hadn’t registered Hound holding back a raging Hot Spot from joining the fray when he saw his gestalt brother clang hard into the wall.

From across the medbay a plaintive protest reaches his audials: “But Ratchet, they were hurting each other!”

Sunstreaker hunches down and dials his audial feed as low as he can, so he can’t hear the CMO’s sharp reply reminding the young Autobot to make use of his medic identifiers next time - actually, to just let them kill each other next time.

Ratchet hasn’t tended to either of the twins’ injuries, other than to give them each a cursory look and proclaim that there was nothing life threatening. A bead of energon keeps forming over Sunstreaker’s optic, dripping down the blue glass and running into his mouth. He doesn’t wipe it away. The pain of a few damaged plates and torn wires is something he’s grown used to over the vorns, and the only thing that really bothers him is the persistent damage warnings that flash up on his HUD.

He turns his sensory reporting system off.