#I had to pause this audio and stare at a wall for a moment

[whatsfourteenupto]

The Doctor: You know, you can’t have a ship without rope. I dunno why. Most of it’s only there to trip you over, if you ask me. OR to let sailors show off their knots but, there we are.

This just in Ten doesn’t understand how boats work sir it would float away

[razzle-zazzle]

1593 Words; this is literally just crack

AO3 ver

“Dad!” Cole stood up, phone in hand. “How’ve you been?”

He walked towards the doorway as Lou chatted on the other end of the call. Kai watched Cole go, then turned his focus back to the game. If he timed his next combo just right, he could finally get the edge he needed to beat Jay.

“Ha!” Kai executed the combo, grinning as Jay’s character took the hits. “I’ve got you now!”

“No you fucking don’t!” Jay riposted, “Not if I use my special move!” And indeed, while wearing a grin that Kai could only describe as pure evil, Jay broke Kai’s combo to unleash his character’s special attack.

“Wh—no fair!” Kai started mashing buttons frantically to try and regain the upper hand. “I had you! I was—”

“YOU’RE WHAT?” Cole’s voice smashed through the wall and Kai’s concentration in one fatal blow. As one, Kai and Jay turned to yell towards the wall that Cole was on the other side of for breaking their focus—

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU’RE REMARRYING?” It felt as though the whole monastery shook from the force of Cole’s yell. Now everyone was staring at the wall, jaws dropped. Cole’s dad? Remarrying?

Okay, they just had to hear this. With only a single shared glance the ninja crept towards the door as one, the video game long forgotten. One by one, they each poked their heads through the door, thankful that Cole had his back to it.

“Why the fuck haven’t I heard anything about this?” Cole demanded. His foot was tap-tap-tapping against the floor the way it did when he was agitated, and the hand not holding his phone was tangled into his hair. He twitched, as Lou said something sharp on the other end.

“No, dad,” Cole’s free hand moved to pinch the bridge of his nose as he turned, the ninja ducking behind the door frame before he could notice. “I’m not going to watch my language. Not when my dad’s remarrying and never even told me he was DATING in the first place!” Cole paced a short circle as his dad responded, his face pinched between annoyance and disbelief. Kai peeked around the door frame—only to have to duck back behind it when Cole’s pacing turned him towards the door.

Jay turned around to the sound of a floorboard creaking. Wu, undoubtedly disturbed from his meditation by Cole’s earlier shout, stood behind them all, stroking his beard contemplatively. After a moment, he shuffled over to stand to the other side of the door. “Don’t mind me.” He muttered, quietly enough that Cole didn’t hear. With that, they all turned their attention back to the half-of-a-conversation going on in the other room.

“Dad—” Cole had to pause to massage his temples. He loved his father, he really did, but that didn’t mean that his father still couldn’t utterly bewilder him. “Okay, fine, it was a whirlwind romance and you were ‘too caught up in the love’ to tell me.” He conceded, “But just because I can see you doing that does not mean you’re forgiven!”

Zane could have sworn the response from the other end was smug. He could barely pick up on the audio, let alone decipher it, but he could just feel the quick comeback that had Cole stiffening, stopping in his tracks.

“Wh—that’s different!” Cole insisted. “I go to other realms and stuff! I’m not always going to have cell service in the middle of the end of the world!” He put his free hand on his hip, leaning slightly as though Lou were right there in front of him. “What’s your excuse, huh?” Another pause, as Lou spoke on the other end, then—

Cole sighed. “Alright,” he caved, fondness creeping into the edges of his voice, “You’re forgiven. But!” He spun on his heel, “Don’t think I’m not gonna hold this over your head forever!” Some things just could not be let go. Like the Triple Tiger Sashay incident; Cole would never let his father live down the fact that he’d genuinely thought a seven year old could perform the most difficult dance move in all of Ninjago.

Kai locked eyes with Lloyd, wiggling his eyebrows to ask if this was some sort of elaborate prank. Lloyd shook his head, wide-eyed with just as much surprise as Kai was feeling. Kai turned to Wu, who raised an eyebrow in question. But the old man had that gleam in his eyes he got when a soap opera reached a particularly interesting twist, and was leaning towards the wall with clear interest in the conversation unfurling on the other side.

“So who is it?” Cole asked, back once again to the door. “Who am I gonna have to throw into the mud at the wedding?”

Nya had to bite back a snort, lest Cole discover everyone’s shameless eavesdropping. But she and everyone else were on tenterhooks, now—they had to know who it was. Who could Lou possibly have fallen so into love with?

Cole chuckled at his father’s response, tension starting to roll out of his shoulders. He opened his mouth, as if to retort to some comment—

They all noticed the way Cole went as still as a statue, the room suddenly silent. “...what?”

Now everyone was leaning into the doorway, eyes locked onto Cole. The mystery just kept getting more mysterious! Jay and Kai glanced at each other, silently conversing through complex eyebrow gymnastics—

“You’re joking.” Cole wasn’t even tap-tap-tapping his foot anymore, as still as a statue. “You’re pulling my fucking leg. This isn’t—”

Whatever happened on the other end of the phone made Cole’s eyes widen in disbelief. The ninja watched as his grip on the phone grew slacker, slacker, the phone beginning to slip from his hand—

Cole doubled over as he choked on air, the phone clattering to the floor. The ninja all met each other’s eyes. Kai and Wu began to move into the room to go help Cole, only to stop in their tracks when Cole grabbed the phone, and, still kneeling on the floor, spoke.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I—” Cole threw his head back, muttering what might have been a prayer to the First Master before speaking again. “Dad—and I say this with all due respect—but—just—what the fuck?”

The ninja were all silently conversing now, astonishment in their eyes as they tried to determine via eyebrow wiggles and hand movements who in the name of the First Master could be Lou’s new fiance. Even Wu contributed the occasional beard stroke and pointed look to the conversation. No conclusions were reached, though, as Cole continued to converse with his father.

“So when’s the wedding? Oh, are you gonna send out fancy invites?” Cole asked, nodding as Lou responded. “Okay, right, makes sense.” He turned back around again, his foot once again tap-tap-tapping against the floor. “I’ll keep an eye on the mail.” He chuckled at something said on the other end. “Bye, Dad. Love you too. Bye.” With a sigh, Cole lowered the phone, the call apparently over.

The smart thing to do would be to go back to the video game and pretend none of them had heard any of that, to try and respect Cole’s dad’s privacy by waiting until the supposed wedding invites would arrive—

Oh, who cared! As one, everyone spilled into the room, almost tumbling over each other as they swarmed Cole.

“YOUR DAD’S REMARRYING?!”

“Who is it?”

“Are they nice?”

“When’s the wedding?”

“Are we invited?”

“Where will they be getting married?”

“Lou? Remarrying?!”

“Whoa—” Cole stumbled back from the onslaught, turning pleading eyes to Sensei Wu for a moment. But Wu was to be no help, instead stroking his beard contemplatively. With a resigned sigh, Cole turned his attention back to the others. “Guys, guys, slow down, I only just found out—”

“Cole.�� Jay gripped Cole’s shoulders with such intensity that Cole could no longer move. “If you don’t tell us who your dad’s marrying I am going to go straight to his house to find out.” His voice was thick with its intensity, static electricity making the ends of his hair begin to float.

“Yeah!” Lloyd added, “We gotta make sure she’s good enough for Lou!” From the looks on everyone’s faces, it was clear that Jay and Lloyd would not be alone in going all the way to Cole’s childhood home to pry into Lou’s love life.

“Wait,” Cole’s attention locked onto Lloyd. “You don’t know?”

Lloyd blinked. “Why would I know?” One could see the gears in his head turning as he tried to parse the hidden meaning in Cole’s question. His eyes literally lit up once it clicked, his expression morphing into one of horror. “Wait, it’s not…” He inhaled sharply, “mom, right?” Misako and Garmadon had divorced shortly after Lloyd was born, and despite some flirting here and there they had never quite rekindled their old flame. Lloyd’s head began to spin—only for Cole’s hand to land on his shoulder, bringing Lloyd’s attention back to the here and now.

“It’s not Misako.” Cole said, though his tone suggested that Misako might be preferable to whatever was going to come out of his mouth next. He took a deep breath, “The guy my dad’s marrying…” Cole started—the anticipation of the air thickened to the point of suffocation, the heavy silence cut by Kai and Jay’s excited “GUY?”—

“…Is Garmadon.”

The ensuing cacophony reached all the way across Ninjago. Suffice to say, nobody would be returning to the video game for a while.

[midnight-pluto]

I have an idea feel free to write it or not (childe x fem reader)

Playing truth or dare and someone dared y/n to kiss Childe (they did that bc they knew he was in love with her) she got a little angry and shy about it but she approached him pulling him by his collar to kiss him and everyone in the room start to scream and laugh and Ayato is recording what happened for later use

A DARE.mp4 — childe

TROPES: fluff, crack

PAIRING(S): childe x fem!reader

UNIVERSE: modern

WARNING: someone gets called an orphan at the end, swearing

A/N: I’m sorry if this isn’t what you wanted! I did my best to write it in a sense where I could include all your details but if you do plan on requesting some more please be more specific so I can do your request justice

THE AUDIO IS quite distorted at first but then clears out to the point where you can hear distinct voices yelling at one another as well as faint sounds of laughter in the background.

As Ayato shuffles with his phone, he quickly sets his phone up, leaning on the wall in order to properly catch what was occurring. After seeing it balance on the wall he turns back to the problem at hand.

“I REFUSE to kiss this ginger! I have standards!” Y/N declares.

From the camera’s recording, on the left was Ayato’s back and on the right was Yoimiya holding back laughter at her friends despair which so happened to be displayed to the camera between the gap of the two.

“C’mon Y/N~ it’s a dare! Besides Childe won’t mind, right Childe?” Ayato teased, looking towards the man next to the girl having a crisis on whether or not to listen to the dare.

“I’m not confirming nor denying that information,” he chuckled.

“What do you MEAN you’re not going to confirm nor deny that information?!” Y/N exclaimed, grabbing Childe by his collar to look at her in the eyes and shaking him back and forth.

“He means he wouldn’t mind making out with you,” Yoimiya whisper yelled through her hands in the direction of the two with a giggle.

Y/N then turns to the blond in shock, “Hold on! Making out and kissing are two different things! I’m not making out with this,” she turns to Childe and pauses, “Twink.”

“Twink?! Excuse you?!” he yelled horrified, face turning pink not only because of the close proximity between his crush and him, but because of the whirlwind of emotions he felt when being called a twink - causing Yoimiya to fall over with laughter while taking photos of the current scene revealing a stunned Ayaka and Thoma next to Y/N.

“You’re excused bitch!” Y/N turned back to face Childe, creating and intense stare-off between the two.

“Y’know, I don’t think Y/N doesn’t need to kiss Childe if she doesn’t want to; we can all just get a free pass,” Ayaka begins, immediately getting cut off by a loud string of gasps and yells as she looks towards her right she covers her mouth in shock trying to prevent any noise from escaping.

The kiss was gentle yet exhilarating - with watchful eyes around them, their loud cheering just became faint background noise in the distance.

Y/N’s eyes with squeezed shut, but soon relaxed as she slipped her hand into his.

Childe’s breath was swept away and gone in an instant. He had been so sure she would’ve followed through with Ayaka’s words but as it turned out she planned to go against her words the moment she spoke them. Well, not like he was complaining any ways.

Ayato hurriedly snatches his phone back up into his hands and points the camera towards the now kissing friends.

Moving 180°, Ayato pans the already landscape view so the whole room and all the participants is now in the frame - him included - pointing to the two opposite of him saying, “That was me. I’m the one who gave her that dare. You’re welcome.”

Immediately pulling away from Childe, Y/N turns her attention towards the blue haired man and yells, “Are you fucking filming us right now?! Give that shit to me right now you little fucking orphan-“

A/N: I’m including this into my 200 follower event since idk if n e one will request but if anyone else would like to, feel free! also I swear I write things much longer than this I jus didn’t know where else to go with this I’m sorry 😭

[shinyshade8026]

Here's the writing!!! It is called:

Nobody will Lament for you

Writing under the cut. Warning! There is descriptions of death via stabbing.

If anyone wants to like,, do any drawings for this... I could supply refs... /nf

Thick silence filled the air, weaving its way through the halls and hanging in the air like a heavy fog. The silence was comfortable, as though a soothing melody was being hummed throughout the building. This comfort came undone, like a tugged-at ribbon, as light creaks made their way up the steps. A set of ominous yellow lit the hall just barely, the lights dimmed as they moved. The house was nearly empty, the silence caused by the lack of drones. L had never liked silence. There had never been a quiet moment back at her old squad, and she was fine with that. She dragged her tail over the ground, making a soft scraping sound to fill her head as she walked down the hall. She passed by a couple doors but didn’t bother peering inside, those rooms were never used. L looked in one room to her right, it was a bedroom with a large bed for two drones. They grit their teeth, glaring into the room before walking past it with a low hiss. V and S were gone so there was no point looking for anyone there.

They walked forwards, brushing past a bedroom that was barely open. No reason in trying that one when she knew Asmi was with her parents, so they kept walking down the hall. They looked in another bedroom, one that was kept neat and organized. She hadn’t gone this far down the hall before, but they didn’t doubt the room belonged to J. L had always thought J would have made a good addition to her and W’s squad, but that idea shattered the moment she arrived to help S. They passed by her room, tail leaving a light sizzling gash in the door.

There was one room left, and the door was left open. A malicious grin spread over their face as they stepped into the room, one of her hands switching into a gun. There was one resident left at home, and she was currently asleep against the wall of her room. They moved to stand in front of E, raising the gun to be pointed at her core. Her tail scraped loudly against the ground to make E wake from sleep mode, so they could see the fear on its face when they shot her through her robotic heart.

E stirs, her head sensors flickering on as her eyes reappear. She had a tired look on her face as she tilted her head up to see L, holding a gun at them. Its eyes hollow as both drones lock eyes. The drone’s smile widens as she sees E’s face.

“You know, I always wanted to teach S a lesson in some way. Maybe I should make them feel what it's like to lose their best friend, hm?” L inched closer, revenge plastered on her face. She would make S feel what they felt when W died, and they’d kill E again when she came back, to fully tear her away. “Just hold still and this won’t be difficult for you,”

As L stared down at E, she watched as their face suddenly took on a manic smile. L bristled, glaring down at her. “The hell are you smiling about?! I’m going to kill you. This is not an empty threat,” L snarled, she took a step forward but paused when they heard a sound. A sound she heard too late.

Pain bloomed through her body, starting at her back and working its way forwards, as though it was being driven through her. L let out a loud hiss of pain staggering slightly, but she suddenly couldn’t move. She looked down and saw a sharp steel blade protruding from her core. Her eyes hollowed as it came out further, holding her up as her legs threatened to give out. The blade was slick with oil. Her oil. L coughed, oil coming out and onto her hand, as a streak of it ran from her mouth. The blade was shoved even more through her, just barely lifting her up. L turned to look at the one who had stabbed her, but she couldn’t move her head as a hand kept her looking forwards.

L shivered as someone leaned forward, right next to her audio recovered and started to speak. “We gave you all the warnings we could, yet you still have the nerve to pull a stunt like this?” S’s voice was deep and angry, laced with a threatening tone. L hadn’t heard them talk like that for a long while. She tried to get the blade out, but S kept her firmly in place as it kept talking, “There is one thing I want you to do for me, L,”

The drone’s display quivered a bit at their words, trying not to cough up any more oil as S’s movements threatened to spin the blade while it was stabbed through her chest. “..what do you want,” she croaked, her lights flickering briefly. L kept staring at her wound, watching as her oil-stained her shirt and ran down her body to drip onto the floor in a black puddle.

“Say hello to W for me,” S growled, harshly turning the blade and completely destroying L’s core. She let out a scream as S pulled the weapon from her body and she collapsed to the floor. She wheezed as she clutched her core. The oil poured out like water from a steam, and she weakly looked forwards. S had come around to the other side, leaning down and offering E their hand to help her up, which she promptly took. As the drone stood, L could hear the faint chiming of the little bell in E’s hair as their vision permanently faded to black.

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

S helped E stand up, their other hand still being a blade. It cast a glare to L’s body, watching it stop moving as the oil slowly stopped seeping from the wound it had caused. They grimaced, knowing the oil would leave a stain in the wooden floor. “Let's move her out of here,” S says, nudging E with their elbow before the two of them lifted her together.

They carried her outside, putting her in the snow while they thought about what to do with her. S turned to E, only to frown when they saw her licking oil from her hand.

“Really dude?”

“Oil is oil, S!”

S sighs, rolling their eyes, but smiling at her still. They were relieved that they had gotten there in time to save her, it couldn’t imagine life without their best friend.

[like-a-bantha]

Sleep Study

Summary: When there's no time for piloting lessons, you suggest a sort of learning-by-osmosis experiment to Tech. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Tech/GN Reader (No Y/N)

Rating: T

Warnings: Language, not beta-read

Word Count: 6.2K

AO3 | Masterlist

Now, this might sound weird – maybe even a tad disrespectful – but bear with me.

I’ve recently begun piloting lessons with Tech and I couldn’t ask for a better teacher. He knows, while I am a proficient mechanic, I’m a total novice when it comes to actually flying, and the man deserves a medal for his patience with me. I’ll ask the same question five times and he only gets mildly agitated around the third, but he’s always been understanding. Not everyone can be a certified genius, after all.

So lessons have been going pretty not bad, I’d say; it’s the workload that’s been causing problems. Cid’s got us going from job to job with almost no breaks. Lately we’re lucky if we get half a rotation to stop and refuel, let alone catch our breath. We’re all exhausted. We’re all on edge. It’s gotten to the point where we’ve had to put a pause on the lessons for a few days just to keep up with general maintenance on top of the back-to-back missions. Thankfully, in those few quiet moments where we can get to that maintenance, I’ve been able to sort of keep up on my lessons thanks to Tech’s rants. And maybe, for whatever reason, my brain decided these rants were incredibly soothing on one particular sleepless flight. And maybe, who knows why, I may have fallen asleep just a bit. It didn’t seem like Tech was angry, or even upset. He was almost apologetic when he gently nudged me awake.

Today, after landing on Ord Mantell for an incredibly brief pit stop, Tech and I work in silence below the ship. He’s been quiet with me since my last accidental nap and I just can’t figure out how to voice how sorry I am without sounding — I don’t know. Disingenuous? And if I’m honest, how do I avoid sounding like a total creep? But we’re just working next to each other, neither of us saying a word, and it’s nice but it’s not us and there’s this massive knot in my gut saying well, it’s your own fault, don’t you remember? 

This silence is awfully comfortable. It really would be such a shame if something were to change that.

“Hey, Tech,” I jumped in without a plan and I’ve given up hope on this being eloquent in any way, at this point I’ll be glad if my question is at least somewhat coherent, “I’m sorry about,” I trail off a bit, I don’t want to finish that sentence actually, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I just, I had this idea — weird idea — and maybe a request? Feel free to shoot it down, I mean, if it’s too much. Would you mind sending me the audio files of your lessons? Sorry, just, they’re really interesting but also relaxing and, and, maybe it can be a sort of experiment, y’know? If I fall asleep listening will I retain the information? Strange idea, sorry.”

Tech stares blankly, and when I turn to meet his gaze after giving myself a moment to reboot, he continues to stare blankly. His head is just barely tilted, and he wears a look somewhere between genuine confusion and borderline concern. With a slight shake of his head he finally responds, “Forgive me, I’m afraid I do not follow.”

If only there was a way to smash your head into a wall a few times without doing any real damage. I’d kill for that right about now. I could’ve just kept my mouth shut but no. Real bang-up job on my part.

“I, uh, I fell asleep the other day because – well, because I was tired, mainly – I don’t know, I just find your voice really soothing? Like, everything’s been really chaotic lately but listening to you talk about paralight systems made it,” I take a deep breath, no going back now, “ah, it made it a lot less chaotic. Like everything was quiet for a minute. Safe.”

Another long exhale. Tech’s still silent, processing, but his brows are raised now and his eyes have gone a bit wide behind his goggles. I can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing just yet. It’s probably best to go against my gut and keep my mouth shut for a few minutes, but now the minutes feel longer than usual. Karked this one up a bit, I think.

“So you would like the audio files to… study?” I nod before he even finishes his sentence. “Or will you be using them to fall asleep?” I’m still nodding and it certainly isn’t helping his confusion at all.

“Both?” I shrug.

He raises his gloved hand inquisitively to his chin, and his face is blank aside from the visible pondering, and now I’m really starting to think I’ve karked it all up. I could’ve put more thought into it, taken my time both in the apology and easing him into the idea of sharing his pre-recorded knowledge, but instead I sloppily tossed all my cards on the table knowing I had a shit hand. And not just any shit hand, no, it’s an alarmingly weird hand. Just as I’m about to start spewing apologies his hand drops slightly from his chin, index finger extended, “An interesting experiment indeed. I shall transfer the files of our previous lessons as well as my own personal recordings.”

Huh.

Wait. “Personal recordings?” Why do my ears feel warm?

Luckily for me his face is buried too deep in his datapad to notice the tinge of red creeping up my neck. “Yes, before you joined our squad and long before our schedule became so hectic, I kept an audio diary of sorts. Detailed accounts of my findings on missions.”

“Cool,” Yes, I can feel how wide and dopey my grin is but I’m still riding the high of my botched opener somehow working and couldn’t care less. “I feel like I remember seeing you telling a bug facts about itself way back when I met you guys. Makes sense now.”

His brows immediately furrow as he finally pulls his gaze away from the glowing screen in his hands. “You assumed I was talking to the insect?”

Straight faced, I raise both my hands like I’m pleading innocent. “Hey, I don’t judge.”

I break first. My shoulders begin to shake, then my still-raised hands, as the laughter bubbles up. Tech isn’t far behind. We look at each other as we laugh and I can’t help thinking that if it were anyone else I’d hide my face, but it’s like I’ve just now realized turning away would mean missing this uncharacteristically uncontained joy. 

Normally I hate sleeping in my helmet. I know it’s for protection or whatever, but there are few things worse than waking up with a crick in your neck and the gnarly one-two punch that is the bed-head-helmet hair hybrid. Alas, I am dedicated to not only my experiment but also not getting mocked by Wrecker for the next week for listening to Tech’s lecture on, let’s see… “Botanical Symbolism in Folklore Across Kashyyyk”? Sounds interesting. But since I’m not on watch for another seven hours, I can actually take my time choosing rather than scrolling a few pages ahead to the B’s and picking the first one that stands out. I kept scrolling and skimming for a while, he must’ve sent his entire audio library to me; there are hundreds of pages and I’m barely halfway through the aurebesh. Then I’m suddenly scrolling rapidly back to the top of the page as if my subconscious just had a great idea that I’m simply too conscious to understand, and that great idea is to sort the files in chronological order.

I don’t have to scroll back very far at all, Tech wasn’t kidding when he said he only stopped his audio diary when the work started. There’s one titled “The mountainous planet of Guntcania 5” from a few days before we last left Ord Mantell. We’d been sent to loot a newly abandoned Imperial shipyard, driven out by a group of formidable freedom fighters whom we were told were not in it for the profit but the valiant cause. Turns out it was both. I remember Tech quietly commenting on the geological formations to no one in particular. I remember standing a bit closer to hear his comments. I fell asleep just shy of eleven minutes after hitting play.

He caught me in the kitchen not long after I woke up, both of us beelining to the instant caf.

“Thought your shift was over,” I grab two packets from the drawer as Tech retrieves two mugs from the cupboard, “Want some of that herbal tea instead? Get some rest, maybe?”

It’s nice, these quiet moments with him. I’ll watch the kettle, if that old saying is true maybe I can buy us a few more of those moments.

“I have yet to decrypt the schematics from the refinery,” With a heavy sigh he sets the datapad down on the countertop, his shoulders hang and his exhaustion is visible, “Once I’ve completed that and analyze the data I will rest. Until then, I will stick with caf.”

I give a sympathetic smile, “Y’know, I’d offer to help but I think that isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”

“I would more than appreciate the company,” Tech interjects, and by the look on his face I think it took us both by surprise. “If you would be so kind as to join me, that is. Though, if you have duties you must attend to I completely understand and–”

My surprise quickly melts into a warm smile. “‘Course, Tech. I’d love to.” And his face softens in turn. And then there’s a beat where we’re just standing there smiling at each other. Then another. And another. Have you ever seen a tooka knock a cup off of a table and jump at the sound of the crash? Now, imagine that but instead of a tooka it’s two mercenaries, and instead of the clatter of a cup it’s the kettle coming to a boil with an abrupt screech. I think we’d find it much funnier if we weren’t still in the vast realm of half-asleep. Right now, it’s just enough to elicit a soft chuckle at most.

Tech retrieves his datapad as I fix the caf. “Have you begun conducting your experiment? I’m sure you’ve already seen, but I have transferred all of my files from the past year or so, I’m interested to hear your findings.”

It’s enough to slow my movements, brain power diverted to processing his question as I reach for the milk at half speed. “Oh. I, uh, I played the one from Guntcania 5. Didn’t last long, though, I was out by the time you got to regional climates.”

“You were with us for that mission. Perhaps choosing a mission or topic you are unfamiliar with would better prove your theory.”

I nod once before turning to join him, a steaming mug in each hand, carefully placing the caf in front of him as I sit. “Realized as soon as I woke up. Any recommendations for tonight's file?”

He names several from memory as he works on his own task, giving brief descriptions of each without giving away too much — that could skew the results. I add them all to a separate folder, sorting them in order of how excited Tech seemed at the topic.

Of course, things got hectic again and I didn’t have time for experiments – I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been listening to those files, though. Five rotations, a standard week’s worth of sleeps and dreams in the tune of Tech’s voice. I’m waking up well-rested despite sleeping only a handful of hours at a time. I’m practically begging the force to fry some wiring or call off a job to spend even just a few minutes with him. I’m starting to think I may have a problem.

Cid called while we were out hunting down puffer pigs for one of her clients. Hunter walked away with the holoprojector about halfway through the conversation, he later told Omega this was to avoid scaring the animals but Echo and I overheard the real reason. That’s another ten credits in the swear jar. When we get one, that is; right now it’s sort of just an honor system. Next mission – big client, big payout, big enough to hack away a good chunk of our debt and take a couple days off – was called off at the last second, she’d try talking to the client again but, right now, and I quote, “He ain’t budgin’.” We’re still on call, though, and flat broke after our last refuel, so this is really just the galaxy’s worst vacation. Hunter’s hushed and extensive vocabulary perfectly summed up our feelings on the matter.

I was going to try to get some rest on the way back to Ord Mantell but puffer pigs are noisy enough in a relaxed state, toss six of them in a cramped starship and toss that starship into hyperspace and you’ll start to realize noisy doesn’t even begin describe it. Poor Hunter’s locked himself in the ‘fresher, of course Tech installed some sound dampening element to the audio relay in his helmet, but that can only do so much. Omega and Wrecker tried calming the animals to no avail, they’ve resorted to tossing bits of ration bars at them as – I’d say tasty, but eugh – edible bribes. Echo and Tech are arguing over something; it’s small, I think, but I’m too tired to step in and mediate right now. What was supposed to be a short flight felt like years.

“Never thought I’d be happy to be back here, but it sure beats being stuck in hyperspace with these things,” Echo says quietly, carefully lowering the crate in his arms, making sure not to wake the puffer pig that had just fallen asleep. I gently placed the crate I was holding right next to it, maybe when they wake up in this new place seeing one another will calm them down. Or they’ll freak out together.

“Between you and the puffer pigs, I must choose the latter,” Tech mutters, still snippy after the long journey, Echo and I turn to look at him in unison.

Echo’s expression is that of a brother who’s accustomed to that sort of teasing, flat and unphased. Mine, however…

“Hey,” I do my best to keep my voice down, “Not cool.”

Echo’s expression is no longer unphased. It is phased. There’s confusion, surprise, the hint of a smile; he seemed as tired as the rest of us before, but this clearly perked him up. Usually when I step in on these little disagreements I remain as unbiased as I can but I am now, very clearly, taking Echo’s side and now he’s visibly interested in seeing how this plays out. I know I still look hurt by the comment that wasn’t even about me. And Tech, his shift in emotion is visible, I could see him process his remark and my reaction, and his furrowed brows loosen as he looks between the two of us.

“You are correct,” Tech nods once, looking to his brother, “Apologies, Echo, I did not mean that.”

After a moment, a smile graces Echo’s face, “I’ll accept that apology.” And gives his brother a solid pat on the shoulder on his way over to the bar.

“I get grumpy-tired, too, I know how it is,” I bump him with my shoulder, an attempt to break a tension that was not there.

“You do not seem grumpy right now,” Tech breathes out a laugh.

I shrug, “Well maybe I’m not tired right now. Maybe I’m just–” My body decides this is the perfect time for an unsuppressable yawn. “Maybe I’m too tired to be grumpy-tired.”

Tech hums, “A valid theory, it seems.” With a tired chuckle and lazy nod I glance around the near-empty bar. Wrecker and Echo sit at the counter with their drinks while they recount the mission to Cid. Hunter’s setting up the cot for Omega, who is already beginning to fall asleep at Cid’s desk, before he joins his brothers. “I am going to head back to the Marauder and get some rest if you care to accompany me.”

“Yes, please, a quiet ship and sleep sounds like heaven right now,” He stands aside, allowing me to lead the way out of the parlor after saying goodnight to our squadmates.

The cool air of Ord Mantell is enough to keep me awake just long enough to carry myself back to the ship. I hear the ghost of a laugh beside me as another yawn takes hold of me. “I fear you may have conditioned yourself, the sound of my voice alone seems to be putting you to sleep.”

Turns out I’m not too tired for a good laugh, “Yeah, keep talking and you’re gonna have to carry me the rest of the way.”

“I assure you, I was trained to carry men twice my size across the battlefield, I can manage.”

“Right,” I nod, later I’ll blame my dopey smile on exhaustion, “Hey, wait, why men twice your size?”

“It is standard protocol.”

“No, like, isn’t it a one size type of deal? Clones and all, y’know,” He stares blankly at me. “Well, yeah, a few exceptions, but broadly speaking it’s just the one size.”

“I see,” Tech says, and I’ve got this look like I just beat a holochess master, “Your exhaustion has caused a state of delirium. Perhaps this means I’m forced to carry you the rest of the way to best keep you safe.” A barked laugh escapes me at that. “Very well.”

Wait. “Wait! No, no, I’m good! I’m up! I’m awake!” And I am, very much so now as I pick up my pace to evade capture. After my laughter subsides I slow my steps to a walk, and Tech quickly catches up, as we traverse the familiar streets of Ord Mantell.

The Marauder’s ramp lowers with a hiss as we approach. “Dibs on the sonic,” I call over my shoulder as I scurry towards the refresher, Tech makes no protest and takes his time boarding the starship. Our water supply, while it is thankfully abundant these days, always seems to be stuck at the average human body temperature – no warmer, no colder – but at least the cycle itself doesn’t last long at all. A full-body shower only takes about three minutes in the sonic, Republic standard for conservation of resources and time between missions according to Tech. While it is efficient, I do miss a good boiling hot, thirty minute shower to tell the truth; I’d never tell the squad that, though, I’m grateful for what we’ve got.

The chime of my datapad sounded halfway through the sonic’s cycle and I emerge to find a message from Tech. A new audio file and a handful of recommendations. I dress myself with an all-too-giddy smile. After hastily gathering up my things from the ‘fresher I elbow the door control, ready to shout my thanks to the clone and surrender the now warm ‘fresher to him. Instead, however, I am met with the clone himself, standing in front of the doorway, datapad in one hand while the other is in position to knock on the now open door.

He retracts that hand quickly, though, he still looks as if he’s about to say something but nothing has come out yet.

I decide to take the lead. “Hey, thanks for the message. ‘Fresher’s all yours.” 

His parted lips form a smile. “I- you are welcome.” But when I exit the refresher and step to the side he makes no move to enter. “After reviewing a handful of files I found those to be most interesting, I hope this helps your experiment.”

My grin widens, “Thank you, Tech, it’ll definitely help.” He nods just once with a smile before retreating into the ‘fresher. Maybe I stared at the door just a second too long. Maybe I even let out a quiet little giggle before heading over to my bunk.

I can hear the sonic start as I finally turn in, scrolling through highlighted files on my datapad while I try to get comfortable on the flat old mattress pad which always proves to be an impossible task. My sights lock in on a file between two of Tech’s suggestions labeled “Repairs and Maintenance”. Do I already know the in’s and out’s of most starships? Of course. Do I still learn something new everytime Tech talks about the in’s and out’s of the Marauder? Of kriffing course. Perfect.

The sonic’s still running when I put my helmet on and hit play, and I’m promptly out like a light.

I wake with a stir when I feel something plush fall on my helmeted head and open my eyes to see a large hand reach down and grab the offending object. Wrecker whispers an apology as he gingerly retrieves his Lula after dropping her into my bunk. Still half asleep, I can’t decide if that sorry was for me or the doll. The guys are back.

With a quiet, sleepy groan, I roll onto my side and pull my knees to my chest, blindly reaching for the datapad behind me. Waking the device is a mistake as I am instantly shocked by its brightness, my eyes snap shut and I dim the screen. I’ve moved onto a new recording, it seems. This one is titled “Atmospheric Changes of Taccoh”, about five minutes in. Taccoh was one of my first missions with them, I remember my excitement at how well we worked together as a team. I’m not usually good on a team, but clicking with these guys was just easy. It just felt right.

“—they seem to be adjusting rather well to mercenary work. I must say, they are quite the knowledgeable mechanic and are proving to be a great asset to the squad. Wrecker’s comments on their romantic interest in me are, in my opinion, absurd. Though I would not be opposed to such interest, I find the probability highly unlikely. Their interest, as I’ve observed, lies both in their work and the pursuit of knowledge. Qualities I find most admirable, as well as —“

Pause.

The heart rate monitor on my dimmed HUD glows an ominous red as the number rises.

Oh god. Kriff. I found Tech’s kriffing diary.

I pry the helmet from my head, foregoing any attempt to fix my surely frazzled hair, still damp from the fresher, and swing my legs over the side of my bunk to sit up. My whole body is tense, my knuckles pale from the force of my grip on the durasteel frame. Fresh air. Yes. Fresh air would do me good right now, I’d say.

The room seems to spin as I fumble for my boots and the sheer volume at which my mind screams nearly drowns out Echo, half-asleep and confused, staring at me through squinted eyes from his bunk.

“You alright?” His tired voice repeats.

“Yes, yeah,” I answer, all too quickly, “just need some air, is all. You okay? You good? Sleeping okay?”

Echo’s brows furrow, he shifts slightly to face me properly, “I was,” he suppresses a yawn and I hurry up with my boots, “but then you shot up like you saw a ghost.”

My laughter is quiet but crazed, and I can barely hear it, “Ship’s not haunted, Echo, go back to sleep.” 

I stand to leave but the quiet call of my name stops me in my tracks, I turn to face the sleepy clone. “You sure you’re alright?” 

“I’m fine,” I try to make it sound convincing but I know it’s a sorry attempt, “really, get some rest. Be back soon.” His gaze remains fixed on me for a moment longer before he shuts his eyes, nodding before settling his head on the pillow once again. I let out a portion of a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding as I hurry out of the ship and into the crisp night air of Ord Mantel.

My feet take me to Cid’s. She shut the sign off but I can hear the jukebox from the street, no luck kicking out the regulars for the night, it seems. My feet then decide to take me down the stairs. Then to the bar.

“Great, I try to kick two out and a third appears,” the trandoshan huffs from behind the bar, “If you’re looking for dark and broody and the kid, they’re sleeping. Not sure how, these two bozos won’t shut up.” She shouts in the direction of the booming jukebox and patrons as she pours two drinks before sliding one to me.

“Hey, can I get your take on something?” I down the drink, extending the cup in a silent request. 

She glances tentatively first at my now empty cup, then at her own drink, before quickly finishing it to pour us each a second round. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Tell ya after I hear it.”

I laugh into my drink. “This stays between us.” She laughs into her drink. “Or I can just finish my free drink and leave.”

“Fine, fine. Between us.” She waves a dismissive hand. “But it better be interesting or these are going on your tab.”

My brows furrow, I nod just once before finishing my second drink, and the second the empty cup makes contact with the sticky countertop I blurt it out, “I listened to Tech’s diary.”

She waits for me to go on, I wait for her to be a voice of reason. Neither of us get what we’re looking for. “Alright, you found Goggles’ diary. And?”

“And?” I echo, incredulously. “I accidentally listened to some really, really personal stuff that I can’t un-listen to, what do I do? Do I tell him? What, do I say ‘Hey, Tech, so the learning by osmosis experiment was a bust but a little birdie — you, you’re the birdie — told me you had a big ol’ crush on me, for, like a while, so I just wanted to —‘ I don’t know what I want. Kriff, this is bad, isn’t it?”

Cid stares at me like I’m a three-headed mythosaur for what feels like hours, I try to calm my breathing, try to take a sip from my already empty cup. I’m only pulled out of my thought loop by the howl of Cid’s laughter. It even manages to pull Bolo and Ketch’s attention away from the jukebox, if only for a second. In all the time I’ve known her, I’ve never heard Cid laugh so hard. My look of shock remains even as her laughter subsides.

“Good one, kid. You almost had me for a second there.” She gently wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, but the laughter returns when she notices my expression is unchanged. “Oh, you’re serious?”

“Obviously I’m kriffing serious! Cid, I’m kind of in deep shit here, I need advice, I don’t need you laughing in my face!”

“Oh, relax, it’s not like you didn’t know. You idiots have been pining over each other from day one. Didn’t think Goggles would make the first move, though, I owe Muscles ten credits.” She mutters, though clearly still amused.

“I didn’t know! Force, how would I have known!” I put my head down on the bar with a sigh. “So, what, everyone knows and I’m just the last to find out?”

“Got it.”

All I can manage is a dramatic groan.

“Just talk to him, what’s the worst that can happen?”

I don’t even need to think about it, “I say exactly what I said before, weird him out, and go back to working by myself because he never wants to see me again.”

“Yeesh, try living a little sometime, kid. It’ll do you good,” Cid cringes into her cup, “Talk to him. Trust me.”

With a roll of my eyes I extend my empty cup one last time, Cid fills it without a word and I down the drink before leaving the empty glass on the bar as I stand, “Those were on you, I could’ve gotten better advice from Bolo and Ketch.”

“Can’t argue with you there, they’ve been together as long as I’ve known them,” She rinses out the empty cup and tosses it into the washer. “He’s crazy about you, kid. Just tell him how you feel.”

Cid’s words play on repeat in my mind as I wander the now empty city streets. Talk to him right, easier said than done. What if he’s not ready for a relationship? What if I’m not? We’re already so busy, will we really have the time? What if this changes our dynamic irreparably? What if I lose my closest friend?

It takes hearing someone call my name to pull me from what could’ve been an eternal thought loop. I’m back at Cid’s, a weary Hunter stands below the glowing sign, his arms crossed and he somehow looks both concerned and amused, “Going for a fourth lap around the block?” My lips part as if I could form a response but I come up short, opting to shrug instead. “Care if I join you?” I nod and we walk side by side, allowing silence to settle between us.

“Thought you were asleep,” I break that silence. Better to get it out of the way now, I figure I know where this is going.

“Not with all that noise,” Hunter lets out a deep sigh, he must know he could just power the damn jukebox down and get some rest. “I don’t know how Omega does it, that kid can sleep through anything.”

“She’s exhausted,” I let out a sigh of my own, “We all are.”

“Cid’s focused in on this puffer pig client, that’ll buy us some time to regroup, rest up.”

“Good. That’s good.”

Hunter nods, the silence that follows is not as easy or relaxed as earlier. He breaks it first, “I’m assuming you know what I’m about to say.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Talk, I guess. Can’t not now, huh?”

“That’s your choice,” He stops walking, catching me off guard, I stop a few paces ahead and turn to face him, “Never thought I’d say it, but I’m with Cid. The happiest I’ve ever seen him is when he’s talking to you. I get the feeling the same goes for you.”

I bite the inside of my lip, suppressing the smile that threatens to light up my face. Not the time. I nod, crossing my arms, “It does.”

“Good,” He smiles this warm, genuine smile before his serious sergeant demeanor returns, “Don’t let it get in the way of the job.”

“Copy that.” I give him a mock salute, to which his head drops with a tired laugh before his ears perk up. I raise my eyebrows in question as he turns his head in the direction of the parlor.

“Music’s stopped,” Hunter takes a step forward, extending an arm to pat my shoulder before retreating. “Get some rest.”

“Thanks, Hunter.” I give a little wave and watch as he retreats to the now quiet bar down the dimly lit street.

I begin my walk back to the ship, my mind still racing but not nearly as catastrophically quick as before my chat with Hunter. He’s probably still asleep, and I’m not planning on going back to the ship to wake him up and talk about this. My best bet would be to shoot him a message, ask if we could talk when he wakes up. Word travels too fast with these guys and the last thing I want is Wrecker bragging to his brothers about how he put his money on Tech and won. When I reach for my datapad I find the pocket is empty. Of course. I pick up the pace, almost frantically trying to recall whether or not I locked the device in my hasty departure. Odds aren’t looking great, though.

I take my boots off at the bottom of the ramp and tip-toe up in bare feet. Two out of the three men aboard are light sleepers and the last thing I want is to wake them as if I’m some teen sneaking back home after a party. Quiet as a mouse droid, I make my way back to my bunk as Wrecker’s snores reverberate through the durasteel walls. I’m greeted by my helmet, tossed haphazardly next to my pillow, but no datapad. Uh-oh. I glance into Echo’s bunk and find him sleeping, but the bunk above his, Tech’s bunk, remains empty. You’ve gotta be kriffing kidding me. Back to my tip-toes, I make my way to the kitchenette first, also empty, then the cockpit. The control panel is dimmed and all of the seats turned forward, if it weren’t for the tell-tale glow of a datapad screen I’d have thought Tech had simply vanished.

Without a word I join him, only releasing a quiet sigh as I sit in the copilot’s seat. He doesn’t look up from the datapad, its screen displaying the evidence of my discovery in bold text. “I didn’t intend to include such personal files.”

“Yeah, I didn’t intend to listen.” He nods before handing me my device, our gazes still not meeting. I take a turn staring at the display, rereading the title of the file over and over as I continue, “I fell asleep listening to ‘Repairs and Maintenance’, woke up to this one.”

“I, again, must sincerely apologize for any discomfort this finding has brought you, I was not planning to tell you in such an impersonal manner.”

“How did you…” I trail off, he was fast asleep when I left, I never pegged him for the type to pretend to be asleep and his quiet snores sounded so real.

“Echo woke me up, it was shortly after you had left. He said you appeared to be in a state of shock, I found you’d left your datapad open on your bunk.”

“That checks out.” Now that I’m here with him I can almost find the humor in the situation, I even manage a quiet laugh, “I’m sorry I flipped out, I just wasn’t expecting to wake up to that, I guess.”

He finally turns to face me, “You have nothing to apologize for.” “Neither do you,” I retort, meeting his gaze with a smile. I can almost see his thought process before his mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as he realizes the meaning behind my words. I continue, regardless, I heard him spill his guts, it’s only fair I do the same for him, “I feel the same way, Tech. I have for a while. Come to think of it, maybe I always have. Your feelings didn’t scare me, the possibilities did.”

He cocks his head in question, “Possibilities?”

“I’m scared of our dynamic changing, I’m scared I’ll kriff it all up and lose you. I’m no good at this kind of stuff and the last thing I want is for our relationship to suffer because of me,” I ignore the tears beginning to form in my eyes, turning my attention back to the viewport. Tech’s gaze, however, remains locked on me.

A hand reaches out, resting gently on mine, his thumb ghosting across my shaking fingers, “My darling, the fact that you are willing to voice these fears should be evidence enough that you have nothing to worry about. You contain a level of emotional intelligence that will never cease to amaze me. Should you choose to act upon these feelings, I assure you, we will be just fine.”

My eyes meet his, I don’t notice a tear has fallen until he reaches his hand up to wipe it away. When he notices how I lean into his touch, he cradles my cheek ever so gently, and I shut my eyes to savor the feeling, letting a warm smile wash away my worried frown. I rest a still-shaky hand upon his, opening my eyes to meet his once again, “What do you say we figure it out together, then?”

“A wonderful idea, darling,” Tech closes the small distance between us, placing a kiss upon my forehead. I can feel his smile. “However, I’ll need to review my files before you continue your experiment.”

I pull back, a look of faux shock on my face, too giddy to feel the real thing right now, “You mean there’s more?”

“Frankly, an embarrassing amount, perhaps we will review them someday but I’ve taken the liberty of deleting the more… risque files from your library.”

I’m glad the door to the cockpit is closed, otherwise the volume of my laugh surely would’ve woken both Echo and Wrecker, “Risque?!”

“I would greatly appreciate it if you refrained from mocking me,” Tech sighs, the mirth in his tone evident.

“Maybe that can be the next experiment,” I laugh with a smirk.

“Mocking me does not sound like an experiment I would have any interest in partaking in, thank you very–” His mild offense fades away in realization, “Oh. An interesting experiment, indeed.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! As always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, I love hearing your feedback! Part two will be posted soon <3

[haunted-xander]

Finally. Finally she had found the exit, the end of this hellish labyrinth she'd been pushed into. Everyone is waiting for her to save them, she needs to hurry...!

She placed her still usable hand on the doorknob, hope and anxiety swirling in her chest. What if I'm too late...? What if Enoshima-san have already gotten to them? What if-

Pushing those thoughts aside, she twisted the doorknob.

As light poured out into the dreary hallway she came from, she swore she saw them all standing there, smiling warmly at her as if to say; You did it, Nanami-san. You saved us. Thank you. Even the image of Chisa was smiling and welcoming her with open arms. ...Ah, that's right! Yukizome-sensei, she-

Her eyes adjusted and the image disappeared. Instead, what stood before her was a cold, empty room with turned-off screens lining the walls. The feeling of anxiety that had swirled in her chest now threatened to devour her. Where...? "Where is everyone? ...Enoshima-san! Where are they?! Wha-" She paused to breathe, "What did you do to them?! Hey, Enoshima-san! Answer me!" As she yelled at the screens, she fell down to her knees and gasped in pain.

"Ooooh my GOOOOD~! Nanami-senpai just look at you! That look of utter despair... Ah~ I just can't get enough!" Obnoxious laughter filled the room, as the screens turned on. "You look so goddamned miserable it's almost enough to make ME pity you! AAHHAHAHAHAHA WOULDN'T THAT JUST BE FUCKING HILARIOUS?!" The voice turned saccharine, "Buuut since you were such a good wittle senpai, I'll be a nice girl and give you a reward!" One of the screens extended and stopped in front of Chiaki. "As a reward for surviving my execution, I will allow you to witness your fellow students' last moments of sanity."

The screen up-front switched footage, now showing a similar room to the one she was in with her classmates staring dazedly at the screens covering the room in an ominous red light. Chiaki prepared her voice to call out when- "Oh by the way, they can't like, hear you or anything. I already cut the audio feed so now all they see is a red screen signaling your death." Her words choked up. And then, "My... death? They think I'm dead? But I'm... right here..." Light sobbing filled the air as her voice faded out. The faint feeling of tears rolling down her face didn't even register.

"Awwww, is miss cwass rep cwying now? That won't do, that won't do at all! You're not crying nearly as much as you're stupid fucking hopeless heart should be! C'mooon senpai~ Show me that beautiful despairing face of yours~ I need some relief senpai, won't you pleeease help me~?" Junko's rapidly tone-shifting voice snaps Chiaki out of her daze.

"...I won't..." Junko snapped to attention, clearly intrigued. "Hmmm? What's that? You won't?" Using her less injured arm, Chiaki attempted to push herself up, "I won't... fall for your despair! I will never, ever give up on my classmates! No matter what... I will... sa...ve... th......"

Right as she passed out, she swore she felt eyes staring into her back.

[searchingforatrail]

Title: Wall

Summary: "I was created for a singular purpose, Megatronus. To organize data. Even if Cybertron did have a successful revolution, I doubt I’d operate outside of what I was created for.”

Or, Megatronus realizes that his caste is not the only one he’s fighting for. Though it's considerably harder to fight when the one you love most does not realize there's a battle worth fighting.

[original ao3 | twitter]

--

Megatronus descended from his makeshift stage in the midst of cheers and applause, a silver bullet ebbing through a sea of mismatched colors and frames. Mechs he’d never met before clapped him on his shoulder, their words of praise and admiration fueling the high that he was on. The streets had been filled to the brim with his supporters, all drinking in the words and promises he’d proclaimed into the air.

Yet a quick scan of the area revealed the absence of one of his closest confidants. Orion Pax was nowhere to be found within the ocean of his supporters. His smile faltered, the grin not quite reaching his optics as it had before. Soundwave flanked close behind him, answering the questions that had fallen silent on Megatronus’s audio sensors.

Amazing how the absence of one single droid could pull him from the elevated feeling he’d experienced just moments before. Even politicians had managed to wriggle their way into the crowd, inviting Megatronus to meet privately with him. And yet he felt empty.

“Did Orion not receive a personal invite to this speech?” Megatronus communicated to Soundwave mentally as he continued to shake hands with the mechs around him, “this is the second time he’s done this.”

“Orion: Preoccupied with data organization. Sent his apology an hour ago,” Soundwave communicated back, effortlessly, “Suggestion: Go visit him. This is becoming a pattern.”

Megatronus did not have to be told twice. He excused himself, leaving his disciples on an amicable note before leaping into the air, and transforming into his familiar jet form. The route to Iacon was second nature to the silver mech now, something he never would have guessed would have happened in a million years. Such a city had been one of the many targets of his anger and hate. How many politicians in Iacon had chained he and his brethren down, had forced them to submit to their “greater”, superior will. He had hated Iacon with a passion, much like Vos and the other higher caste cities. And yet, Orion had somewhat changed his vision of things.

If only to prove that even the ugliest places in their corrupted society had their jewels.

Yet he felt a twinge of annoyance when his gaze settled upon his rather occupied friend. He could see him through the large, open arched windows carved into Iacon’s old halls, busy pouring over a tray of data pads. In a fluid movement, Megatronus jumped into the halls, transforming midair and descending before a wayward Orion Pax.

“I didn’t see you at my speech today,” He beat him to a greeting, standing at full height with his arms crossed, “the speech I told you about ages ago. The one you helped write.”

Orion paused, azure gaze locked onto Megatronus’s. For a second, he stared, hands paused against the data pad he had been occupied with, and optic ridges knitted tightly together. His mouth opened as if he meant to speak, only for his jaw to close moments later.  Megatronus stared back, slightly uncomfortable at the growing silence.

“Orion, did you–”

The Gladiators own mouth dropped as Orion turned away from him mid sentence to continue organizing his data. The initial anger he felt died down, replaced instead with a deep sense of concern. It wasn’t unusual for Orion to lose track of time due to his duties, but this was different. This was unnatural.

And then he saw it . A small, circular device on the back of Orion’s neck, just below his helm. A chronometer. The kind used to ensure a task was done seamlessly in a given time. One that he hadn’t seen since his time in the mines.  His memory was vague regarding such a device, but he understood the basics. It was only meant to be a simple timer, but to be placed on one’s neck, interfering directly with the electricity that ran through their body. That was different. And he knew a body modification when he saw it.

Megatronus moved without thinking, and his anger was renewed ten fold. “What in the Pit is this?” He hissed, yanking the device from the back of Orion's neck, “a chronometer?”

Orion hissed, then blinked. And brought a servo to the back of his neck, wincing in pain.

“I..I apologize Megatronus, do you mind if we sit? I’m afraid my processor is readjusting to the sudden loss of the chronometer.” Megatronus wasn’t sorry for removing it, though he guided Orion to the nearest seat they could find, giving him a few moments to recollect himself.

“I am very sorry. I meant to respond to you earlier, but I hadn’t been given my time yet. I didn’t expect you to come to Iacon today, and Soundwave said he would tell you I was busy.”

“Your ‘given your time’”? What does that even mean Orion? Why did you have a chronometer on your neck? Why weren’t you speaking with me?” Megatrons tried his best to level his words, to snuff out the fire raising in his spark.

“The higher ups have deemed it necessary to add chronometers to the frames of the clerks. They are simply testing out productivity output. If we work in intervals, the theory is that we can increase the rate at which we are organizing data, and reduce error rates. It was not only done to me.”

Megatronus gulped, his words clear and icy, “Did you provide your consent? Did they inform you of the side effects, such as not being able to speak?”

“They–I–I don’t remember? Yes?” Orion’s answer provided no relief, “This doesn’t matter. It’s standard. Occasionally, when we aren’t working to their standards, they will implement new techniques and technology to ensure we are working at 100% efficiency. However, they were simply running a test phase today.” Orion's defense of his “higher ups” was frightening to Megatronus, and it tugged at a fear he’d long sense overcome.

“But you were unaware of the consequences, and how it would change you?” He asked again, forcing his voice to calm.

Orion ex-vented, closing his optics, “Yes, but it’s not what you think. We have specific coding, and sometimes it fails. If that’s the case, then they deem it necessary to–”

“Orion how is this any different from slavery?” Megatronus couldn’t keep the edge from his voice, “Coding? And when that fails, a piece of hardware that makes you forget where you are? Makes you unable to speak or to talk?”

Megatronus stared deeply into the innocent, deep eyes of Orion. He could get lost in them, on a good day. But today, he was fearful. Horrified. He looked on in sheer terror, fearful that he’d look away only to be met with the bland, empty mech he’d met just moments ago.  “You do not even know what they’re doing to you.”

“I am not a slave, Megatronus. What you and I went through are different,” Orion spoke firmly, the only indication in the entire conversation that he’d been himself, “I am a clerical bot. That is my purpose.”

And Megatronus knew he should not have asked the next question. Knew the answer would either anger him, horrify him, or both. Yet he pressed on.

“And when the revolution happens, when there is no more caste, what will you do?”

“You will need someone to organize your data. There will be clerical task. I assumed you would want me to do it.” He responded, practiced like he’d rehearsed it a hundred times before.

“Do you think that’s why I befriended you? To make you do my office work?”

“No, I think you befriended me because we are friends. But I am a data droid. I was created for a singular purpose, Megatronus. To organize data. Even if Cybertron did have a successful revolution, I doubt I’d operate outside of what I was created for.”

“Orion, listen to me, and listen carefully,” he gripped his shoulder plating tightly, pulling him close, “You are more than just a walking organizer. You are a Cybertronian who deserves to have his own wants and needs outside of his programming. That is what we are fighting for. And you do not deserve any less than that. Do you understand.”

“I..I will try to, and I do. I just don’t think it applies to mechs like me.” He said, not a hint of sadness in his voice, “and that’s okay. As long as I can organize data by your side, I am okay.”

“So you do have aspirations, and you do have desires outside of your station,” the relief set in, and Megatronus embraced his friend before he could debate him any further, “You have fight within you, I beg of you to hold on to it.”

“But it’s just data.” He said, muffled, “I am not fighting for my life in the mines or the pits, not like you.”

Megatronus was tired. Something about Orion had zapped the energy from him, and he didn’t know what. Maybe it was the fact that he felt as if he were talking to a wall, or that Orion genuinely believed his life was okay. Or maybe it was the great sadness he felt for his friend, the one he loved the most in the world.

“We all have our own battles, Orion. You are just starting to fight yours.” He muttered, “you’ve done so well at helping me fight mine, only to hide the one you have here.”

“Excuse me. Orion needs to return to processing his data.” Megatronus blinked, fighting the urge to slack the mech who had just interrupted them. Only, he looked into similar blank eyes, “He should have a few more minutes left.”

Orion maneuvered himself from beneath his friend, taking the chronometer from Megatraonus. “I apologize for missing your speech, Megatronus. I will be at the next one, I promise.”

He didn’t give Megatronus a chance to respond. He simply placed the chronometer back onto his body, his form growing rigid and mechanical as he found his cart of data pads again.

“Just like you promised last time.” Megatronus said to himself, jumping and taking flight. He didn’t bother to let Orion know he was leaving. His friend was no longer there. And according to the other droid, wouldn't be for some time.

(follow my twitter for a request :D I follow transformers and dc fans back!) 

[darkestspring]

snippets

welcome to my little series of tiktok audios i make into scenarios to encourage to write just a little bit. (mostly maegara involved since she's my current baby)

"Is this what you really want to talk about?" Aleksander asked Maegara in a soft voice, his hand reaching out for hers. All of the other Targaryens had given them privacy to talk.

It had been a few years since he had seen her face and yet he still remembered her so clearly.

"I died." Maegara voice was soft but not filled with despair or malice, instead she took her death with full acceptance. "And you weren't there." Her voice held no resentment at the statement, only sadness.

Aleksander had cursed himself for years over the agony and not being at her side at her last moment. "I know." He also sounded sad as he held her hand.

"And you died," Maegara sounded like she was holding back her tears as her gaze focused on their entwined hands, "and you came to find me." Maegara's red eyes locked with Aleksander's brown eyes.

Aleksander's hands tightened around Maegara's own hands, his voice containing all the sadness he felt, all the longing he had felt. He was glad that no one was around, this was a side he only showed to his wife. "Of course I did." He spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could do nothing else."

Maegara's red eyes glitters mischievously as she backs up Aleksander into the wall in the abandoned corridor of Dragonstone, looking every bit the dragon that she is.

"You know, I can hear the way your breathing changes every time I call you sweetheart." She purrs at Aleksander before she stopped moving looking at him with an almost predatory look in her eyes.

Aleksander sucked in a breath and Maegara laughed softly.

"There it is again."

Maegara looked down at the disheveled Aegon with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. "Mmm, I never thought I'd have to say this but there's only space in this family for one unstable sibling," Maegara rose her eyebrows as Aegon's groans got louder and goards no doubt ran off to alert their mother.

"And I have held that title for a very long time." Maegara uncrossed her arms as she smoothed down her red dress. "So, you are going to have to get it together, Aegon, or so help me, I will never cover for you ever again."

"You're so annoying." Aegon groaned. "Love you."

"I love you too."

"You kidnapped Aegon??? That's illegal!" Aleksander turned to stare at Jace in disbelief.

"But Ser, what's more illegal? Briefly inconveniencing Aegon or destroying Maegara's one hope for everyone to be there for her birthday." Jace mock gasped dramatically.

Aleksander paused before shaking that thought off and pressing his hand against his forehead.

"Kidnapping Aegon, Prince Jace!" Aleksander retorting, trying to keep his headache from forming.

"Aleksander, listen. Whatever I may think of you right now, Maegara is depending on you to make sure her birthday is the best one yet and so are, all of them. You inspire them." Daemon retorted like it hurt him to say those words.

"What? To kidnap people???"

"To work together."

"TO KIDNAP PEOPLE????"

Jeoffrey took the pause to speak up. "Ser Aleksander, we all agreed. Aegon is not a people."

"I will not let you poison her against me." Alicent hisses, running to catch up to the fast walking rhaenyra. Maegara was alicent's pride and joy, and also currently married to Rhaenyra's heir, jacaerys.

"That's an interesting word choice." Rhaenyra comtinued walking, paying her no mind as she hurried to return to dragonstone. "Since you already did."

"I want to see her." Alicent was on the verge of tears as she continued to storm after Rhaenyra. "She deserves to hear my side of the story, she's my daughter!"

"SHE'S NOT! SHE'S MINE!" Rhaenyra's shout reverberated through the hallways as she spun to face Alicent, a glare on her face. "She is my daughter now. If she wishes to speak to you, she will. I'll let her know you asked about her."

Alicent was left alone in the hallways with tears in her eyes.

"I guess you know my future, right?" It had been an accident how the 11 year old Maegara came across the older version of herself.

"I mean how often do you get a chance like this?" Maegara seemed to burn with curiosity at her older self as her red eyes looked up at her. "There are somethings I-I just gotta know."

The 26 year old Maegara stared down at her younger self, her heart aching at the sight.

"For instance! My marriage." Maegara looked over to the side, a worried look on her face. "Am I doing the right thing marrying Jace? Do we grow old together?"

Maegara felt like she wanted to cry just hearing her younger self, how she had yet to love and lose everything.

"You're going to love him until the day you die." She spoke softly, her expression softening with sadness.

"Maybe I don't need to know anymore than that." the younger maegara smiled, unknowing of the grief she'd receive in return.

"I love you." The declaration that came from Maegara's mouth had stunned Aemond more than it should have. They had both agreed to never mention any of it, so why?

"You love me?" Aemond asks, astonishment painting his features as his voice cracks from his own disbelief. "I thought that we had agreed not to fall in love."

The look in maegara's eyes were enough to make him crumble completely.

"Woah." Maegara's red eyes tinted with mischief as she peers down at Jace. "I knew this would get a rise out of you but still, you really are obsessed, aren't you?" Maegara's smile widened as she leaned even closer.

"Kitten." She practically purred the word before leaning back and laughing.

[agentplutonium]

Seraph leige and 1920s!Milo/SH pls!!

(talking about this game)

hehehe my two favourite wips (lying they're all my favourite)

OKAY SO Seraph Liege is a wip of mine for NeXus and the general concept is the idea that Liege is trying their hardest to reach their "final form" (A seraph, but like, severely fucked up cause they are NOT supposed to do that). They do this through the help of the Priest that they came across in their first audio. I will give a small snippet but I am unsure if this is ever gonna go anywhere outside of this. (CW: manipulation, I think, just to be safe)

“Get up, Darling. It’s time to go.” “Who are you?” Liege paused, turning back to look at the priest. The poor thing was huddled against the wall, nearly cowering from them. The priest was terrified. “Whatever do you mean?” “Do I know you?” Liege made their way back, stepping over their latest victim to do so, slowly and deliberately as if to not scare off a stray animal. They crouched when they were close enough, face soft. “Of course, you know me, Darling. You know me very well.” “I…” Liege frowned at the response, or better lack thereof. Good pets didn’t have thoughts that didn’t revolve around their master. And they certainly don’t think about themselves, especially in the presence of said master. They flooded Darling’s mind as Liege sat there with good memories—only some of them being fabricated this time. Ones where they were there for Darling, ones where Darling worshiped them, memories where Darling felt amazing, being praised for doing what Liege wanted. Anything to get back on track.  They didn’t have time for this, but you can only expect so much from a pet. Liege will have to stop training Darling until they get the desired results. “Do you remember now?” Liege asked, lips still turned down at the corners. “I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you after that blow to your head.” Darling shivered as Liege’s hand came up to caress the back of his head.  “Yes, my Liege.” “Good. Now, get up, pet. You’ve wasted my time.”

and and the 1920's fic my beloved. This was something that was inspired by the amazing @dizzy-n-busy who made this amazing art of Milo

here's the jist-- Criminal Milo met Investigator Sweetheart at a bar, they hit it off, Milo finds out that Sweetheart is an investigator. There's a bit of drama. Sweetheart shows up with the shade case. They get closer again. Sweetheart gets hurt. Milo runs into the shade, gets into a fight, kills it, gets in trouble with the law, and has to be interrogated. Sweetheart gets in there, helps Milo get out of there, and they meet at the end and decide to go on an official date. This fic is actually ongoing currently (Biting the Hand that Feeds on AO3) but here's a snippet from chapter 1 because I like it ^^

“Your friends are here,” Sneaks said, almost sounding disappointed. Or, maybe that was just Milo being hopeful. “I’ll go. I’m sure you want to be alone with them.” They moved to get up, but Milo’s hand shot out to stop them. He didn’t think about it until he felt the warmth of their wrist against his palm. Sweetheart also seemed to freeze at the contact, staring at their hands. “I want you to stay,” Milo said finally, letting go. Sneaks’ eyes shot up to his for a moment, capturing his attention immediately. “I wouldn’t want to intrude,” they said softly, almost hesitant to accept the invitation. “I insist,” Milo said. Sneaks was still looking at him, analyzing him. He felt like he was an open book to them, and he had no problem with that. If it meant that they looked at him like that then he is more than fine with it. “Okay,” they said quietly. “I’ll stay.” “Thank you.”

[swift-creates]

@tbb-appreciation-week DAY 2: ECHO (09/04) — No Order 66 AU | Touching Foreheads | "This wasn't supposed to happen."

characters and relationships: Fives, Echo, (dream) mentions of Krell, Rex and Jesse

warnings: Umbara is its own warning, mentions of violence, death and PTSD, one real-world swear word

Notes: I've wanted to write a TBB!Fives AU for a while now, and now i finally did hehe. can you tell i love (hurting) these two

read on AO3

Grabbing tentacles, thick shadows, blue-gray fog, and screams. Fives had seen this in his mind’s eye far too many times.

They could only guess at where Krell would appear next, where he would leap out of the shadows and add to the 501st’s list of casualties with his quartet of lightsabers, four-armed strikes powerful even without using the Force. Fives pushed through the jungle, the terrain that would be difficult to navigate even if they hadn’t been shrouded in darkness. He remained on Rex’s heels even as blasterfire sounded in the distance, a wailing chorus of death overlapping with the repeated audio over the comms. His helmet’s display zoomed through the dark, narrowed in on Krell’s flashing blades slicing through flesh and plastoid. “He’s coming.” He fought down the dread, the nausea that still crept up his throat no matter how much he tried to train himself out of it, and knelt in front of Jesse, blaster at the ready.

Krell was there faster than he thought, his symphony of slaughter following with a sickening crunch of breaking bones, stealing his brothers’ lives with his bare hands, throwing them into unforgiving tree trunks, slamming them into the ground. Fives’ breath caught as he flung Tup by the head, and the younger trooper went falling somewhere past Fives’ line of sight. There was nothing he could do but force the sick feeling down, keep firing. 

Fives blinked and Krell was in front of him. No. No, this isn’t how it went- Panic shot through his thoughts as he was picked up in one monstrous hand, and another raised a blue-bladed lightsaber. No, no no no nonononononononono- Krell brought it down in a sweeping blow, and-

“Fives.” Rex was shaking him awake, but his voice was pitched wrong, like something from a dream, so familiar yet so foreign. 

“Fives, ya snoozin’ bantha, wake up.” 

That was definitely not Rex. He opened his eyes to see Echo staring down at him, the worry ridge between his eyes furrowed despite his light-hearted words. “You okay, vod? You were doing your sleep-wriggling thing again, but you looked… scared.” 

Fives sat up and drew his hands over his face, delaying his response for just a few seconds as he struggled to pack the memories of Umbara back away in their little boxes in his mind. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m… fine. Just a bad dream.” 

Studying his face carefully for a moment, Echo turned so his back was to Hunter and sat on the bed by Fives’ leg. “We both know your bad dreams are bad, Fives. What was it this time?” He leaned in closer, lowered his voice. “Was it Lola Sayu again?”

“No-”

“Rishi?”

“No.” Fives looked away, folded his blanket with shaking hands, hoping Echo wouldn’t notice. But of course, he did. He reached over and took it from Fives, folded it neatly in half, quarters, eighths. Set it aside in one of the Marauder’s storage compartments and put his hand over his twin’s.

“You know you’re shit at lying to me.”

“Language.” Rex would have said it, but Rex wasn’t here, so Fives said it, and it made Echo laugh.

“Calm down there, buir. Omega’s still asleep.” He leaned back against the wall, looking at Fives, waiting for him to go on.

“Umbara.” That made Echo’s eyes widen, and he scooted closer. 

“Oh. Force. You okay?” he asked, softer. “I know you said it was rough.”

Fives huffed dryly. “Rough is one word for it.” He paused, and Echo waited. It took a moment, but he found the story making its way slowly out. Echo didn’t say anything when he was done, just sat close to him, leaned in and pressed his forehead to Fives’. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Fives closed his eyes, leaned into his brother’s warm comfort. “It’s not your fault.” “I wasn’t there,” Echo said simply.

“And I don’t wish you were. You’re better off without those memories, trust me.” 

Pulling back, Echo was quiet for a moment. “I know. But I wish I’d been with you. Even so.”

“Yeah, well. We’ll never know what would have happened, so. No point dwelling on it.” Fives got up and stretched, then squeezed Echo’s shoulder before heading to the ‘fresher. “I’m fine, Echo. Really.” He didn’t look totally convinced, but nodded anyway. 

They went around their day as usual, and occasionally Fives would catch his brother giving him a concerned look. He rolled his eyes. For Force’s sake, he’d said he was fine. 

(But that didn’t stop him from crawling into Echo’s bunk later that night and snuggling as close to him as humanly possible.)

[risarchives]

imperium audio spoilers !

vindemiator’s joy at seeing them again immediately fading into concern when he heard about the deal they made with president moore and his voice visibly transitioning back into how it sounded when they first met (low, sad) is just. wow

vin’s mirthful freelancer! at the beginning… stop. stop. stop. my heaaart (i missed him so much ahh BELOVED)

i had to pause a few moments and stare at the ceiling because i didn't want the audio to end jahdjdnfjw I ADORE THEM TOO MUCH THIS IS GOING TO HURT

my courage when it comes to writing angst just completely vanished when i listened to vindemiator be, act, and sound like that. saying he wants them to be happy and that he doesn't like the idea of fl needing to come meet president moore every time he asks for it just to have time with him and everything in between. everything painful and tender and full of love

my god. i was right. freelancer would do anything but leave vindemiator helpless and alone. and lasko’s obviously taking it for granted im just— *slams head against the wall*

freelancer... sigh truly the listener after my own heart. and after vin's as well so im backing off haha <3 stay strong together you two please

the fact that he, a demon, lived so hopelessly and did everything in his power to survive before freelancer came around because his kind is so disrespected and frowned upon in the imperium presently has to handle the fact that he is loved. so loved that the person who adores him so is going through so much just to see him and spend time with him and he can't even do anything to protect them from it

AHHH

pres. moore: “—that demon (...)”

fl: “vindemiator.”

and then vindemiator saying he trusts avior AND doesn't doubt freelancer both in the same audio im going insane. how do i even function after all that

AND TH. THE—

“i know, my love.” “promise me, my love.”

IN !!! EVERY !!! UNIVERSE !!! god it hurts so good

[archives-of-camelot]

Weak Spots

Characters: Eli, Evelin (@nimue-hidden-lake)

Series: Evelin Anniversary

Note: While not explicit, there is some mild teasing depicted. Specifically involving the lips, neck, and ears.

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

How did he end up here? On the floor, his back up against the wall, cornered like a rat, staring up at who was bearing down on him, with her ever unchanging expression.

"H-Hey, what's gotten into you?!" Eli would ask, his mind racing.

She didn't answer. Not at first anyway. She looked him up and down, observing his every little move, and his expression. His eyes wide with her sudden move and takedown. Yet his face...it was anything but shocked or displeased. She could easily tell. A shade of red was slowly creeping it's way into his cheeks, like usual.

"I needed confirmation" she said, not budging from the position she put them in, still staring.

"Confirmation? For what?!"

Again she didn't answer right away, staring with her deep violet eyes.

"I noticed you have a particular taste. What you read and listen to"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about" he tried to avert his gaze as his face grew redder.

"You didn't hide it very well. You left the tabs open...almost as if..." she paused and slowly got closer. "As if you wanted me to see~"

A shiver went up Eli's spine as she whispered tenderly into his ears. However unable to escape meant that he couldn't do much. Or so he made it seem like he couldn't escape.

He knew she was right. But ever admitting to it would be a death sentence. She already had alot of power over him as it was, he didn't need to give her any more!

"If my hunch is correct...this should elicit a response" she said as she moved her head closer to his neck, and let her breath gently run across it.

Another shiver ran up his spine and he even jolted a little. She was doing this on purpose. To scope out if what she learned from his History was true or not. Or maybe just to see how he'd react. Which one it was mattered little at the moment.

"W-Why so suddenly?" was all he could muster, trying to keep thinking straight and not give in.

"Why listen to all those audios and read all those stories...when I can do it for you?" she answered plainly as always, continuing to tease him as she spoke hushed while still close to his neck.

All he could do was wriggle as she persisted. He felt his face get warmer as he could do nothing but try and survive her assault.

He closed his eyes, hoping that if he didn't look at her it would make it easier until-

He felt her lips press lightly against his neck. The feeling lingered for a moment or two, before she pulled away. At this point it was some game to her. To see how much he could take before breaking. But he wasn't gonna let her win. He wouldn't! He echoed the statement in his mind, trying to strengthen his resolve.

He would feel the sensation again, though longer this time. The warmth and softness of her lips making him want to surrender himself to the feeling. But he couldn't! That's what she wanted! Not this time!

"Maybe I should try a different approach..." he heard her say as she moved to his ears once more.

"Nya~"

A familiar chant whispered into his ear. Last time it was an invitation...this time it was temptation. How could one word- nay, one sound, be full of so much power?! He tried to move his hands to try and block it out, but she was one step ahead, pinning his hands to his sides as she kept chanting her spell.

"Nya~"

The pressure was building, before reaching it's peak and finally-

"O-Ok ok! I can't take much more!" he shouted out as his face was beet red.

She pulled away, a light smile on her face as she chuckled at his outburst.

"Oi, are you trying to kill me...?" he said with a sigh as he shook his head.

"If you can't handle just this, how are you going to be able to survive what I have in store for you? This was a small taste" she tilted her head.

"Wait...there's more...?" he asked, wide eyed.

She only nodded, before getting off of him.

He barely survived this time...what worse could she possibly do?! Someday he knew he'd find out...and that he wouldn't win round 2.

Masterlist

[daughter-of-fire-and-dreams]

#8 Shed

Between roads of ice and fire, of snow and sand, of a limbo between the woods where nuisances, simple moments and psychedelic dreams had taken place, a destination had been reached. 

Rhua had promised herself she wouldn’t return to Eorzea, but all that went down the drain the moment she got a hold of an actual map to see the routes to take a boat out of the damn continent. Which in and of itself, felt off for her as well. 

Yes, she was finally fucking off even farther than what that little lavender shit could reach (if they ever even thought of her as a nuisance coming back for). But she was still in unknown land, and still heading for an even less known land for herself. The thought didn’t feel right. But at least she was no longer freezing. 

It was already night time by the time that she finally made it, the lot had been left alone, with several vines already having overgrown the fence and outer walls of the house, but it was still a habitable abode. And one within a security perimeter. For Rhua, there wouldn’t be any sensation, for any machinery it would be clear that it felt as if entering a field of relative stability, no feedback from any outer source could be felt, as if having entered a force field. 

And it was also then that her own drone bleeped, establishing connection to her family’s network. ‘Family’ she’d think, except only herself and her mother were the only ones that knew how to manage and sustain it-

“Yo.” her brother’s voice came through the comms. Which made Rhua pause, yes, he existed, but he was also not prone to having a drone around with him to use for communication. 

Rhua paused, warily letting go of her bike handles that she’d been pushing to get into the house’s front yard. Then looking over at Sergiu’s drone before sighing to turn back to her own. With a quick flick of her wrist, the drone’s feed went from mere audio to actually also display visual feed, her brother’s image after so many long moons finally for her to see again. 

He still looked the same, dumb pokerface that was being slightly betrayed by his awkward gaze for once. 

“Alright, why the fuck do you have a drone from mom?” Rhua asked, skipping right to the point.

She’d received a call from him in the past regarding some repairs, and she’d snarkily offered the very helpful advice of ‘have you tried turning it off and then back on’. But to think he still had the drone with him, something was definitely afoot. 

“And you got a drone that’s definitely not yours.” he retorted at her, clearly unamused.

Pleasantries were something these siblings definitely lacked in between themselves. 

“He’s a friend. And he has a name you shitface.” Rhua replied in a deadpan tone. “It’s Sergius.”

The news though, caused Rhea to do a double take both in confusion and amusement. 

“A friend.” he repeated. This time taking a moment to stare at what little feedback he could of the drone hovering around his sister. 

“Ok, that’s a huge upgrade from your previous choic-” 

“Want a third and a fourth broken rib?”

Snark, bark, bite, just the usual behaviour for family. One that both Rhua and Rhea clearly had an easy time bouncing between seriousness, actual threats, and just small talk. 

“I’ll let mom know you made it to her old Shroud lot. You can probably store that bike in Loverbird’s old shed. Water’s still running, and tons of old stuff are still inside. You can probably bunker up for a bit.” Rhea informed his sister, as if the threats had come and gone with the wind just as easily. 

“Yeah yeah. I got all the instructions, I don’t want to stay for long-” she paused, having a look at the shed that had already nearly collapsed by then despite the short moons that had passed since it’s inhabitants had left. 

“That shed looks like-” before Rhua could even finish, her brother easily completed her statement. 

“Like the dingy house we hid at when we were kids on the way to Eulmore?”

“For fuck’s sake Rhea, you were almost a toddler. How the fuck do you remember that?” she asked, clearly weirded out by the fact both had thought exactly the same thing. 

Rhea merely shrugged. 

“A kid can’t exactly fall asleep on command. Oh wait, my bad, one of us actually does-”

“Eat shit.”

[cryinginsidebecauseofbrutasha]

Day 7: Medicine (by Havelin if you want the inspiration)

Natasha watched the rain, sitting outside the compound in the refurbished greenhouse. It was her comfort space, sitting comfortably in the solace of blankets and fairy lights. It was small and cozy. No one knew about it.

Nat sighed.

They had lost a really bad fight between her team and a really enthusiastic branch of the Black Order, who had come back for vengeance, she assumed, and while, thankfully, there weren't any casualties, everyone was a little shaken up.

Natasha stared at her phone, screen dark, as she contemplated calling him.

On one hand, she might get a few words of sympathy. On the other, did Natasha really want a few words of sympathy?

Nat shook her head at herself, swallowing her pride. She went to her starred contacts list and pressed the top number. It rang once before he picked up.

"Nat?"

Natasha sighed. She didn't even know why she was holding her breath for him to answer. He had never left her hanging. "Hey, Bruce." She took a shaky breath. "How are you?"

The was a short silence before she heard a car door being closed. "I'm in my car," the scientist answered. "Are you at the greenhouse?"

Natasha exhaled a laugh. "How'd you know?"

"I just do." Bruce sounded rueful, but maybe it was just the audio quality. "What happened?"

Nat shook her head as if he could see her. "Just... the last mission. We didn't really... you know."

"Oh." The scientist didn't offer up the words of sympathy Natasha had wondered about. "I'll be there in a few minutes. Talk to you then?"

"Sure." Nat closed her eyes. "Hey, Bruce?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

There was a brief pause, then– "Anything."

Natasha smiled as she hung up.

A few minutes later, Bruce knocked on the greenhouse door.

"Come in!" she called.

Bruce stepped in and looked around. "You redecorated," he noted.

Natasha sent him a wry smile. "Well, I couldn't keep your quantum theory Pinterest board up here forever." She watched him sit down at the foot of her egg chair. "It's my resting place and it made my head hurt."

The scientist smiled softly. "I could teach you."

Nat rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean." She sighed, leaning back into her chair. "Things have been crazy."

"This week, month?" She opened her eyes to see Bruce watching her carefully. "You were out of reach for a while."

"This whole..." Natasha waved her hands around to try and convey the sheer vastness of crazy she experienced. "... Thing." She turned slightly to look at Bruce. "How are you?"

He shrugged. "I'm fine. Working on a project at the moment."

"About what?"

"Time travel." Bruce shifted in his seat. "I just wanted to try. I have schematics running right now. Uh, Tony's actually over here, with Morgan. We were hanging out."

Natasha blinked. "Oh my god." She sat up. "I interrupted you. I'm sorry."

Bruce shook his head. "It's fine. We weren't getting anywhere." He chuckled. "Plus, after Ultron, I had this safeguard installed so that once I leave the place for more than ten minutes, everything is self-contained. It won't break. Even with Tony and his baby with sticky fingers."

Natasha sighed.

They were both startled by Bruce's phone pinging.

He checked it and sighed. "On another hand... they could just figure it out." Bruce looked at Nat. "Do you need me to stay? I can have it set on a back burner for now. Time travel isn't urgent."

Natasha shrugged lightly. "Go do your time travel thing. I'll be fine."

Bruce looked unconvinced. "Tasha..."

His phone pinged again.

Bruce was halfway between sitting and standing.

Nat bit her lip. "Actually, could you stay a while?" she asked softly. "If you can."

"Of course I can." He sat back down, but Natasha pulled him up into the egg chair with her. "Back to our old habits, aren't we?" he commented with a small smile.

Nat returned with a shameless one.

They sat in a comfortable silence, squished next to each other even though the egg chair had plenty of empty space between them and the walls.

Natasha glanced at Bruce only to see him already looking at her.

"What?" he laughed quietly at her smirk.

"Nothing." Nat smiled to herself. She looked back to see him again, gazing at her. "You're staring."

"Is that so wrong?"

Nat rolled her eyes and linked their arms. "This reminds me of before the... you know." She leaned her head against Bruce's shoulder. "I think... maybe if I had tried a little harder, we might've been together still, right now."

He was still looking at her. "We could still try again. There's still time."

"According to who?"

"The world." She felt Bruce drop his head on hers. "We aren't dead yet."

Natasha laughed. "That doesn't give me a reasonable timeframe, you know."

"I made you laugh."

Nat huffed. "With your face, it's not that hard."

"Ouch."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Natasha got on her knees and sat back on her heels. "I think we should try again."

Bruce's smile widened. "Oh, really?" he asked.

"Give me one chance," Natasha said. "I don't deserve it, but give me just one chance."

The scientist curled his arm around her waist. "Who said you don't deserve it?"

"Me." Nat grinned up at him. "Are you going to send me to a psychiatrist?"

Bruce rolled his eyes affectionately. "Ha. At least you've stopped calling them 'shrinks'."

"I have."

"And it shows some growth."

Natasha sighed and looked Bruce in the eyes. "When I ended things... did I tell you why?"

"You said it was too much," he said. "Though you weren't very convincing, for a spy."

Nat settled into his arms. "That was part of it... but another part of me was scared of what would happen if I followed through on plan A."

Bruce smiled slightly, a little confused on the outside. "What was plan A?" he prompted.

"Telling you I loved you that night," Natasha confessed. "Over a romantic candlelit dinner and a bouquet of a dozen red roses."

"Aww. You're a romantic."

"Of course I am." Nat sighed. "It's a pain." She had a sudden moment of forgetfulness. "Why did I get you to come here again?"

Bruce chuckled. "You asked me how I was and I knew something was up so I just came."

"Typical." Natasha nudged him a little. "You're a romantic too. Running in the rain, 'I-remember-every-tiny-detail' kind of romantic. Though," she added with a smirk, "that can be translated that you're a creep."

Her scientist rolled his eyes. "Ha."

"It's true!" Nat grinned. "But hey, you fixed my headache. You're like my own personal brand of Tylenol."

Bruce laughed slightly. "Of course. I'm headache medicine."

"It's a compliment!"

"I have no doubt it is."

"I love you," Natasha blurted out. She immediately hung her head and whispered quietly to herself, "Fuck." She looked back up. "That was not how that was supposed to go."

Bruce smiled. "I love you too."

Natasha opened her mouth and closed it. "Th–thank you." She blinked. "Yeah."

"Tongue-tied?" he teased.

Nat batted his hand away annoyedly. "Shut up, Banner," she muttered.

"Anything."

--

Here's the song that inspired me today! It's called Medicine by Havelin. 

[mordysworld]

Perfectly Perfect: A script for a short film

The following is the drafted script adaptation of my short story 'Perfectly Perfect'. A Warning: This script contains themes of death, suicidal ideation and intrusive thoughts.

INT. HOUSE - EVENING

CUT TO A BIRDS EYE SHOT OF A PLATE OF FOOD, IT LOOKS DRY AND BLAND- THE PLATE CONSISTS OF COLD LOOKING PEAS, DRY CHICKEN AND CARROTS. THE SHOT IS STILL, CLEAR AND BRIGHT.

UNKNOWN LADY'S: 

How was work dear?

THE AUDIO IS MUDDIED AND SOUNDS LIKE THE LISTENER IS UNDERWATER. 

A clock can be heard ticking in the background but somehow louder than the other sounds in the room.

UNKNOWN LADY'S VOICE: 

Honey..?

THE MAN (V.O.):

Oh right, she's speaking to me

THE MAN(CONT'D) 

It was fine dear... same as always John got permission to move forward with his pitch in his meeting today

THE MAN (O.S.) 

It was my idea, I got zero credit, it's fine.

UNKNOWN LADY 

Oh that's good. 

(An uncomfortable silence stretches between them)

The bland boiled carrots on his plate stare mockingly at him so he picks up a fork full eating and killing them, if he focused hard enough he could taste their blood. (a dribble of crimson blood leaks out of the corner of his mouth he wipes it up licking his fingers) ( The clock continues steadily clicking )

THE MAN (V.O.): 

I wonder, if water perhaps enjoys being drunk? If it finds a spark of joy from travelling down the gullet of those who are lucky enough to come by it?

He takes a sip of his glass of water, a scowl on his face as he replaces the glass on its coaster.

THE MAN(V.O.) (CONT'D):

Impossible. It was foolish of me to even ask such a question... How could anyone truly feel happiness in this awful world? A world where intrusive thoughts are a regular occurrence, where even if you wanted to you couldn't feel anything, a world in which everyday is a struggle- where waking up feels like a burden- where a coherent thought is hard to come by- WHERE THAT DAMN CLOCK WON’T STOP TICKING

( The Clock continues to click)

The man's eyes refocus and he stares down at his plate, heart racing. He sees a small collection of eyeballs on his plate- he eats them without a second thought.

THE MAN(V.O.):

I want to leave.

THE VOICE:

Then leave.

SHOT OF THE TABLE SHOWS THAT THE LADY AND A CHILD ARE HAPPILY CHATTING AWAY. THE MAN IS CONFUSED AS HE SHRUGS AND WALKS AWAY, THE CAMERA FOLLOWS.

INT. BEDROOM.

ALL SHOTS UP TO THIS POINT HAVE BEEN STILL, STABLE SHOTS.

The man sighs as he enters his room, not one of relief but one of tiredness. He slowly but surely strips off his clothes. A ringing sound can be heard as he stares at the clothes in his hand, a muffled distant screaming can be heard. 

Shot from the perspective of the Laundry basket as we see him look at the clothing before throwing it in the basket before turning away.

INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT

The man walks into the bathroom now naked; we see him glance at the shower.

THE MAN:

What a pain.

Mistakenly he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, flinching at his own reflection.

THE VOICE:

You’ve let yourself go… you've been eating too much again haven't you?

The Man refuses to respond.

THE VOICE:

Pity. You looked so handsome when you were younger…why does everything on wither as time moves forward? Everyone and everything is destined for this disgusting decay. What's the little one's name? It honestly doesn't matter- she will grow up to  be just like you, I can see it in her eyes. What sort of man are you that you can't even spare your own child from this suffering? I thought a man's job was to protect his family?

The voice takes a moment of pause from its degradation

THE VOICE(cont’d):

Pathetic.

He stepped under the cold shower water, barely twitching at the temperature

SHOT OF THE MAN TURNING THE NOZZLE ON THE SHOWER TO COLD AND WE SEE HIM JUST STAND BLANKLY STARING AT THE WALL.

Camera shows blatant and dark eye bags and a deep set frown but his eyes look soulless as if all the life had been sucked out of him. He collapses in a heap on the floor of the shower, falling to his knees.

He appears lost in thought, scratching at his arm- he comes to and realises that he’s bleeding.

THE VOICE:

You should kill yourself

THE MAN:

I know

THE VOICE: 

Then do it, coward

THE MAN:

Not now

THE VOICE:

You're a miserable excuse for a human being, you know that?

THE MAN:

I think I want  meatballs for dinner tomorrow. I’ll have to ask if she can pick up the ingredients.

THE VOICE:

I hope you choke and die on your food you pig.

The man starts to sob silently, curling in on himself and laying in the foetal position. His tears and blood mixed together with the shower water.

When he finally gets up it is visibly much later than when he entered the shower.

A long uncomfortable shot ensues, the camera remains still across the room watching the man attempt to move.

He crawls over to the counter to heave himself up using all his strength, it shows on his contorted face. Forgoing the towel he attempts to walk back into his room but he collapses to the ground before he reaches his bed. His cuts were deep and still seeping blood. He

INT. HOUSE - EVENING

CUT TO A BIRDS EYE SHOT OF A PLATE OF FOOD, IT LOOKS DRY AND BLAND- THE PLATE CONSISTS OF COLD LOOKING PEAS, DRY CHICKEN AND CARROTS.

UNKNOWN LADY'S VOICE 

How was work dear?

THE AUDIO IS MUDDIED AND SOUNDS LIKE THE LISTENER IS UNDERWATER. 

(A clock can be heard ticking in the background but somehow louder than the other sounds in the room)

THE MAN (V.O.):

Was that clock always so loud?

UNKNOWN LADY'S: 

(hesitantly)Honey..?

THE MAN (V.O.):

Oh right, she's speaking to me

THE MAN(CONT'D) 

It was fine dear... same as always John got permission to move forward with his pitch in his meeting today

THE MAN (O.S.) 

It was my idea, I got zero credit, it's fine.

UNKNOWN LADY: 

Oh that's good. 

(An uncomfortable silence stretches between them)

The bland boiled carrots on his plate stare mockingly at him so he picks up a fork full eating and killing them, if he focused hard enough he could taste their blood. A dribble of crimson blood leaks out of the corner of his mouth he wipes it up licking his fingers ( The clock continues steadily clicking )

THE MAN (V.O.): 

I wonder, if water perhaps enjoys being drunk? If it finds a spark of joy from travelling down the gullet of those who are lucky enough to come by it?

He takes a sip of his glass of water, a scowl on his face as he replaces the glass on its coaster.

THE MAN(V.O.) (CONT'D):

Impossible. It was foolish of me to even ask such a question... How could anyone truly feel happiness in this awful world? A world where intrusive thoughts are a regular occurrence, where even if you wanted to you couldn't feel anything, a world in which everyday is a struggle- where waking up feels like a burden- where a coherent thought is hard to come by- WHERE THAT DAMN CLOCK WON’T STOP TICKING

( The Clock continues to click)

The man's eyes refocus and he stares down at his plate, heart racing. He sees a small collection of eyeballs on his plate- he eats them without a second thought.

THE MAN(V.O.):

I want to leave.

THE VOICE:

Then leave.

SHOT OF THE TABLE SHOWS THAT THE LADY AND A CHILD ARE HAPPILY CHATTING AWAY. THE MAN IS CONFUSED AS HE SHRUGS AND WALKS AWAY, THE CAMERA FOLLOWS.

INT. BEDROOM/BATHROOM - EVENING

ALL SHOTS UP TO THIS POINT HAVE BEEN STILL, STABLE SHOTS.

The man sighs as he enters his room, not one of relief but one of tiredness. He slowly but surely strips off his clothes. A ringing sound can be heard as he stares at the clothes in his hand, a muffled distant screaming can be heard. 

Shot from the perspective of the Laundry basket as we see him look at the clothing before throwing it in the basket before turning away.

The man walks into the bathroom now naked; we see him glance at the shower.

THE MAN:

What a pain.

Mistakenly he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, flinching at his own reflection.

THE VOICE:

You’ve let yourself go… you've been eating too much again haven't you?

The Man refuses to respond.

THE VOICE:

Pity. You looked so handsome when you were younger…why does everything on wither as time moves forward? Everyone and everything is destined for this disgusting decay. What's the little one's name? It honestly doesn't matter- she will grow up to  be just like you, I can see it in her eyes. What sort of man are you that you can't even spare your own child from this suffering? I thought a man's job was to protect his family?

The voice takes a moment of pause from its degradation

THE VOICE(cont’d):

Pathetic.

He steps under the cold shower water, barely twitching at the temperature

SHOT OF THE MAN TURNING THE NOZZLE ON THE SHOWER TO COLD AND WE SEE HIM JUST STAND BLANKLY STARING AT THE WALL.

Camera shows blatant and dark eye bags and a deep set frown but his eyes look soulless as if all the life had been sucked out of him. He collapses in a heap on the floor of the shower, falling to his knees.

He appears lost in thought, scratching at his arm- he comes to and realises that he’s bleeding.

THE VOICE:

You should kill yourself

THE MAN:

I know

THE VOICE: 

Then do it, coward

THE MAN:

Not now

THE VOICE:

You're a miserable excuse for a human being, you know that?

THE MAN:

I think I want  meatballs for dinner tomorrow. I’ll have to ask if she can pick up the ingredients.

THE VOICE:

I hope you choke and die on your food you pig.

The man starts to sob silently, curling in on himself and laying in the foetal position. His tears and blood mixed together with the shower water.

When he finally gets up it is visibly much later than when he entered the shower.

A long uncomfortable shot ensues, the camera remains still across the room watching the man attempt to move.

He crawls over to the counter to heave himself up using all his strength, it shows on his contorted face. Forgoing the towel he attempts to walk back into his room but he collapses to the ground before he reaches his bed. His cuts were deep and still seeping blood. He passes out and the screen fades to black. The credits play over top of a translucent background where you can just make out the scene of an ambulance lights flashing brightly, sombre jazz plays over it.

[dollwritesarchive]

[ ᴍɪɴɪ ᴍᴜsɪɴɢs ] the dragon slayer’s lullaby ❛ thorin oakenshield

big, big thank you to @ginny-rose-sixx, who helped to inspire this idea since I’ve been listening to richard armitage narrate audio books for days now thanks to her!

fandom the hobbit

featuring king!thorin oakenshield x wife!reader

rating sfw

content warning none!

summary king thorin retells the greatest victory of his people- the day they took back Erebor from Smaug, to his children as it is their favorite bedtime story. not canonically accurate, sorry bard!

word count 2575

attention not proofread. do not repost or translate my work ever. full stop. reblog & give feedback, pretty please.

safe and sound au masterlist coming soon!

“ … And the roar of Smaug was thick and smothering with fog as dark as a starless sky as his gullet filled with red flame, ready to destroy us all.” it was a familiar tale, one always told in the same manner. he had, no doubt, asked the little ones what story they would like to hear tonight before sleep, and you could almost hear the exclamations from your children now- a begging, pleading, to hear the epic story of the day he and his company stared down the dragon Smaug. it was their favorite, and you knew he wouldn’t admit it, but it was Thorin’s favorite to tell.

you smile, fond, upon the echoing of your husband’s baritone as you move closer to the nursery; your youngest son, Sindri, but a toddler upon your hip. ever your shadow, the child clings to you, small and chubby fists gripping on to the neckline of your gown. he is much softer, and more shy than your other sons, and prefers to remain as close to you as possible. in this moment, however, his marble eyes are shut, pink cheek smushed against your bosom as he slumbers in your arms.

“Then what happened?!” as always, your daughter Idunn seems most enthralled with the telling. contrary to the softness of her voice, there’s always been quite the adventure-hungry sparkle within the two, glimmering jewels placed ever so delicately into her doll-like countenance. Thorin says she has your eyes, and he is absolutely right.

“The devil Smaug, destroyer of kingdoms, glared at me. His eyes were as fierce as the fire in his breath, massive and marbled like molten earth. He means to kill me, use his meat-hook claws to tear my flesh from my very bones!” Thorin’s voice booms from within the room you approach, and out erupts child laughter. you are certain as the rising moon that he has attacked your daughter and twin boys with merciless tickling to their ribs, as you’d seen this performance many a night.

“Weren’t you frightened?” Vali cries. their shadows come into view as candlelight dances across the stone walls, and you find yourself pausing by the threshold, hanging back to hear the story as well.

“Of course not!” Ulf cuts in, matter of factly. “Father fears nothing! He is much too strong.”

glancing down to your feet, the smile tickles your lips. how simple things were in the mind of a child, everything made sense and was factual. Thorin was a strong man, and thus in the eyes of your sons, could not feel fear.

you hear Thorin’s hearty chuckle, a deep and warm sound, like deep crimson embers of a dying flame. “Even the strongest men can still feel fear,” he corrects his son, “if not for their own destruction, for the ones they care for.”

“You were worried about mother.” Idunn suggests.

“Aye.” Thorin replies, most sincere. “And the rest of my company. Your cousins, Fili and Kili, were also heavy upon my mind. If I could distract him, if only for a few moments, then perhaps they could escape. I charge the beast, bellowing a mighty roar as I do. If he means to kill me, then he shall feast on me alone.” as you listen, you press your back against the cool stone and close your eyes. you could still remember that moment as if it had happened only the day before. the fear, the anguish, and the desperation you’d felt. a powerless, pathetic bystander. “I swing my mighty axe, but have not the power to pierce the stygian scales. his massive claw swipes at me, the wind from the force of his batting sends me on to my back, and that is when the claw comes down upon my chest and pins me there!”

Idunn gasps as her father’s fate hangs in the balance; almost as if she hadn’t heard this same tale hundreds of times before.

“I could feel the heat of the flames in his throat ready to engulf me. Long, black claws sharper than swords and twice as lethal form a cage around my body. I am trapped, and I call out for the others to run while they still can. Smaug’s neck contorts as he leans close and bares his foul smelling, blood stained teeth at me.”

“What does he say? What does he say?!” Vali is excited, you can hear it in his voice; this is his favorite part of the story and always has been.

“‘IT IS OVER, THORIN SON OF THRAIN!’” as loud as thunder, Thorin’s impression of the dragon echos in the nursery, an evil snarl upon the very tip of his tongue. “‘I AM GOING TO ENJOY WATCHING THE SKIN MELT FROM YOUR CHARRING BONES!’I am certain this is the end, and as his wicked lips pull back, and his mouth opens, I watch a sea of fire overflowing from his belly, clawing its way up his throat to embrace me in flame.”

your children are silent. there are very few moments in which every one of them are brought to complete and utter quietness, but this part of their favorite story is one of them. you can hear the crackling of the fire that warms their bedroom; it must’ve been dying down by now, and you press your lips to Sindri’s temple in a loving kiss.

“If I would’ve closed my eyes that day, I wouldn’t have seen it. For as I stared into the depths of the beast’s fiery belly, a silhouette leaps atop his monstrous paw and obstructs my view-“

“Mother!” all three of them exclaim at once as you enter the room, finally, both as a greeting and exclamation of the story. you smile upon the visage of your tripled offspring, Idunn sits atop your husband’s lap and the twins on either side as he’s planted on the bed.

he, too, raises his oceanic gaze and typically stoic features are incredibly softened by firelight. “Indeed,” he murmurs, holding his daughter tight. “It was your mother, she had leapt on to Smaug’s paw and is between myself and certain death.” as the story continues, you carry your youngest to his crib and lay him down gently, so as not to wake him. even with your back to the lot on the bed, you can feel Thorin’s eyes upon you. much has changed since you’d married him, since the dragon had been slain and he had become the rightful king of Erebor, but much had stayed the same. you didn’t suspect the way he looked at you would ever change, and you wouldn’t want it to.

“What did you say to Smaug, mother?” Ulf urges you to join in on the storytelling once Sindri is sleeping peacefully in the corner of the room, and you turn on your heels with a tilt of your head. all four beings are waiting eagerly.

“I took a deep breath, looked Smaug right in the eye, and said, ‘you have taken enough from us, you will not take him from me.’” coming to stand at the bedside, you can feel Thorin’s strong arm embrace you, and guide you closer.

“Your mother thrust her sword into the dragon’s chin, with so much ferocity that only a few of his tough scales gave way and fell to the stone floor-“ Idunn toys with the obsidian scale on a chain around her neck. it was only just larger than her hand. as her fingers glide over it, her marble eyes are wide with amazement, for she can feel the scathing from your sword. “-her sword, though blunted by the dragon’s iron scales, pierced his flesh, jutted into his mouth. It was lodged so perfectly through his jaw and up into the roof of his mouth that it sutured it shut.”

resting your hand on Thorin’s shoulder, you knead against the muscle there- it was quite the habit, to comfort him with physical affection.

“She jumped from the dragon’s claw as he rears his nasty head, fire flooding from the corners of his mouth in scalding streams, and Dwalin took to crushing each, individual finger beneath the weight of his powerful hammer until I was freed. Kili fired many arrows at the beast’s eyes, blinding him while I found my footing and collected my axe. Before I can face Smaug alone, I feel the warmth of her hand in my own. I turn to look at her, and I am in awe all over again,” as he speaks, Thorin does the same as in the story, tilting his head and staring at you. “The flames dance around us, and cast this celestial glow about her face. The fiercest, loveliest woman in all of Middle Earth was staring back into my eyes.”

“‘If we are to take the dragon’s head, then we do so together. If we are to run, then we do so together.’” the words are so easily remembered that they bubble from your throat simply when you gaze upon your husband. “‘For I will never do anything apart from you again, Thorin, son of Thrain.’”

your eyes are drawn to your son, Vali, whose eyelids are drooping. your free hand flees to run your digits through his tendrils.

“You chose to kill the dragon!” Idunn exclaims amidst a yawn. “Together!”

“Aye,” Thorin exclaims with a wide grin. he has since plucked your daughter from his lap and is laying her on her back against the pillow, pulling the blanket up close. leaving a peck upon her forehead. “Myself, your mother, and the whole company charge Smaug with every ounce of strength and courage that we can muster.”

“We fought among the flames that day,” you chime in, both arms coiling around your sleepy son to hoist him into your arms and carry him to his own bed a few feet away. he all but goes limp the very moment he touches the bed. “And broke many a blade against Smaug’s scales.” tucking Vali in, you glance over to see Thorin doing the same with Ulf, who has always been the most reluctant to sleep. “But, we didn’t give in. With your father leading us, how could we ever lose hope? He is the very beacon of it within our people.” your eyes meet Thorin’s, and you smile. it is mirrored upon his countenance as well, so swollen with love that it must hurt his cheeks. “We defeated the menace, then. The dragon, Smaug, was defeated, and the Lonely Mountain was once again, ours.”

once you had given your son a goodnight kiss to his satin cheek, you stand upright and strode across the room to smother the fire in the fireplace. the room darkens without the orange glow from the pit.

“Father became king,” Ulf yawns, as if the blanket of darkness had exhausted him, “and the two of you were married?”

you nod, coming to stand by Thorin at the door to the nursery, and your voice is little more than a whisper, as his siblings already sleep peacefully and he is not too far from dreamland, himself. “Yes, and we lived happily ever after with our four, beautiful children…”

less than an hour had passed, and Thorin now lounges in the massive bed you typically share with him. he has retired his garments and the golden crown. navy sheets of silk are draped over his lap, his hands resting behind his head. you are but a few steps away from the bed, one strap of your nightgown sliding down to sag against your bicep. the moon was high in the sky already, and from the castle in the mountain, you feel closer to it than ever. you look towards the balcony, and the gems of your couplet coruscate as you embrace the night.

“What are you thinking about?” Thorin asks, followed by a gruff, “if I may ask.”

faint bemusement possesses your countenance as you arch a brow. “The children,” you admit, before your gaze is cast downward to your bare feet as they peek from beneath the billowing skirt of your gown. “How they love the tale of their father, the dragon slayer.” you glance up at him, to find him staring back- sapphire hues watching you closely. “Sometimes, I wonder if we have made a mistake in telling them the truth. They are only children, after all, what should they know of slaying dragons and the horrors we faced without our kingdom on the mountain? This is their home, and this is all they’ve ever known. Shouldn’t we have kept it that way?” as you speak, you turn on your heels and approach the balcony. “They’re safe here, but sometimes I feel a familiar terror creeping up on me, the thought that Smaug will blot out the moonlight with massive, black wings and set the whole kingdom alight once more. What if we are putting the same fear into their hearts?”

a bit taken aback by your fears, Thorin’s expression changes; normally furrowed brows seem to relax as his countenance softens, and he withdraws the sheet from his body and pulls himself on to his feet. you can hear the sound of his heavy steps as he approaches you from behind, followed by the warming, strong embrace of his sculpted arms. they pull your back against his torso and you melt into the vice, but your eyes remain on the sky.

“My love,” he whispers, velveteen and soft against the shell of your ear. “Smaug is dead. Destroyed. You know this, it was half your doing.” his tone is much gentler than the norm. he chooses his words carefully, fully aware of the traumas carried by living a life on the run for so long, an experience he, too, knew all too much of. “The kingdom of Erebor is restored, and our children are safely under our watchful eyes. You don’t have anything to fear, not anymore.” you nod, hands fleeing to find his forearms and you hold on to them for dear life. he feels this, and responds by unhooking them from one another to allow your smaller hands to be swallowed within his own. your satiny skin rubbing against his calloused palms. “Dragons are but fairy tale creatures to the little ones, an evil obstacle in a bedtime story, and that is what they will remain.”

“And what of another enemy?”

“I will cut them down.” he mutters, an air of determination and certainty. “Anyone who dares to threaten my wife, my children, will bleed upon the edge of my axe.”

you believed him. for as long as you could remember, Thorin had been a man of his word, and he would stand against any foe to his people, but this was different. there was a darkness in his voice, as if the mere thought of any harm coming to you or your children would send him into a bloodthirsty frenzy for revenge. you were sure that was the case.

“You are safe, my love, my queen.” he repeats, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck; his beard tickles your neck as he plants fleeting, saccharine pecks over it. “We are safe.”

you’d been told such a thing many times before by others, but none were as believable as Thorin. none were so true than his words.

“Because of you,” you whisper, finally resolved and convinced enough to speak. “My dragon slayer. My king.”