#and then ill just be like ugh he needs to die

[fuckyeahbakumatsu]

One really cool thing about me is that I got into Hakuouki when I was 12 and it's been my permanent autism hyperfixation ever since but a cool side effect of obsessing over Souji at a point in my life when I was almost completely socially isolated is that death threats became a really prominent aspect of my casual speech and I didn't even notice how bad it is until I've started making new friends in college and they look at me funny unlike my middle/ high school friends who just got used to it. The other day I was just like oh god I sound just like him most people don't say they're going to kill someone because they're frustrated someone doesn't understand the difference between a tornado watch and a tornado warning

[astronnova]

doodles (as i avoid work) of the super awesome you wouldn't like me alive fic by @ectoplasmranch which i binge read in a 7 hour sitting yesterday

[cream-and-tea]

writing apollinaire burnthestars backstory is kind of hilarious like what do you mean you’re becoming a teen dad to your own younger brother nobody asked you to do that

[littencloud9]

i love u nekoma & karasuno i love you SO MUCH

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[coridallasmultipass]

.

[lovecrazedpup]

having to be constantly happy for him is exhausting

[littlest-w01f]

Best Medication

Rhysand x Reader

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand is sick after accidentally scenting a mineral in one of the caves of the Illyrian mountains, he desperately needs Reader's help

CW: Sick Rhys, aphrodisiac, breeding kink, spanking, knoting, FxM, Smut 18+ MDNI

You didn't understand what was wrong with Rhysand, it had been almost half an hour that Azriel had come for you, begging you to check up on Rhysand, and since Madja was busy with another patient and couldn't come to him you packed your supplies.

"Ugh... I'm going to die aren't I?" Rhysand groaned as you set a cold wet cloth on his feverous forehead, slowly changing the cloth over his chest and stomach.

"No, you're not." You frown, dipping the cloth in cold water to cool it down before you keep it back on his chest, "Cassian and Azriel are with the priestesses, trying to find more about the mineral you accidentally scented, I can't see anything from my powers... They show nothing wrong with you."

As Rhysand lets out another groan, his body covered in sweat, you decide to try your magic on him again, the glow of your healing slipped into him as you held his wrist, eyes going bright, "I don't get it..." You frown, moving your hand away, returning to normal, "You're... Freakisly healthy."

You felt helpless as your High Lord shivered in bed, you moved to sit beside him, "We just have to wait for-"

"y/n~" You freeze when Rhysand purrs your name, that sound of his voice. "y/n..."

You turn to face him, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets at the scent of his arousal that fills the room, his violet eyes dark in lust. Rhysand gripped your skirts, eyes almost pleading, "I need you..." He breathed.

"Rhys," you stuttered, feeling your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze. "What... What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the confusion swirling inside you.

"y/n," he murmured, his breath hitching slightly as he spoke your name. "I've wanted you for so long." His words were barely more than a whisper, but they carried an intensity that left no room for misinterpretation.

"Rhys, we shouldn't..." You breathe softly, knowing what he wanted, a part of you wanted it too, "You're sick"

"That may be true," He panted, a faint smile playing on his lips, a smile lopsided from his fatigue. "But I crave your touch like I've never craved anything before." His hand moved from your skirt to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was not even an inch between you. His body was warm against yours, radiating an energy that seemed to reach out and grab onto every inch of you. "You're wrong if you think I'm helpless," he said softly, his voice dropping down to a near growl. "We can find a way around my illness."

His thumb brushes over your lips, silencing whatever protest was forming there. "And if it's the morality of it you're worried about, remember who you're talking to." He smirked, motioning to himself.

"If you're sure..." You sigh, almost shivering under his gaze, your own arousal flowing, you nod.

His smirk widened at your concession, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulled you flush against him. The sensation of your curves pressing into his tense form sent a shiver through his weakened body, reviving him in ways he hadn't thought possible.

"You're killing me here, my pretty medic," he groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. As his tongue explored your mouth, one hand moved down to cup your ass, squeezing the curves firmly while his other hand reached up to caress your cheek gently.

The room spins for him as he flips you onto your back, his strength surprising considering his earlier weakness. Your heart pounds in your chest as he roughly rips at your medical attire, tearing away the fabric to expose your skin beneath.

With a wicked grin, he trails hot kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin until you arch off the bed, a low moan escaping your lips. His hand moves down your body, tracing over your curves until he reaches the hem of your lingerie, slipping his fingers underneath to tease at your slit. He chuckles against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. "So wet already," he murmurs, his fingers dipping lower to circle your clit.

"Please," you whimper, your hips bucking against his hand in sudden desperation. "Rhys, please..."

His fingers continue their torturous circling, teasing your clit until you're writhing beneath him, desperate for more. But he doesn't give it to you right away, instead choosing to prolong your torment, his other hand moving up to pinch one of your nipples, rolling the hard peak between his fingers.

"You want more, love?" he coos, his hand slipping further down to plunge three of his fingers inside your soaked cunt, his mouth capturing your free breasts.

His fingers slide deeper into your soaking cunt, his palm rubbing against your clit as he starts to pump in and out of you. You gasp at the intrusion, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through your veins. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his other hand pinching and twisting your nipple. "Take my fingers like a good girl."

Your heart was beating wildly, pressed under Rhysand, whimpering softly, with a guttural groan, he withdraws his fingers from your dripping cunt, only to replace them with his throbbing cock. The head teases your entrance for a moment before he thrusts in, burying himself to the hilt within your tight walls. "Ahh, fuck," he grunts, his body shuddering at the feel of you wrapped around him. "So fucking tight." He begins to move, withdrawing slowly before thrusting back in, setting a punishing pace that has you screaming his name mere moments later.

With a grunt of effort, he flips you onto all fours, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he positions himself behind you. He gives your ass a firm slap, sending a jolt of pain through your sensitive skin. "Mine," he growls, thrusting into you from behind, his cock pounding into your wetness. "Every fucking inch of you is mine." His hands roam freely over your body now, grabbing and squeezing your curves while he takes you hard and fast, his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust, landing another hand on your ass as he dove deeper into you, his body felt better with each thrust into you, his fever slipping away.

"Yours," you moan, eyes rolling back in pleasure as he holds you by your hair, shuddering from his spanks.

His grip tightens in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his teeth grazing against your skin. "Scream for me, y/n." His thrusts become harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He can feel his climax building, the pressure coiling in his lower abdomen as he reaches down to rub at your swollen clit. "Come for me, y/n," he commanded, his voice full of his High Lord's power. "I want to feel you tighten around my cock."

The moment he commands it, you explode, mind blank, filled with an urge to follow his given order, your entire body convulsing as you scream his name. Your walls clamp down on his cock your entire body trembling as you scream out his name. "That's it," he groans, feeling your cunt flutter around his cock. "Such a good girl."

His thrusts become rougher, more primal as he buries himself to the hilt inside you, his balls slapping against your clit with each powerful thrust, the bed creaking loudly. He groans loudly, his body tensing as he feels his release approaching. "Fuck... I'm going to fill you up, y/n," he pants, his voice raw, wings flaring out, fluttering with his thrusts, making him go harder. "Going to breed your pretty cunt so fucking hard."

"Rhys..." You gasp, eyes slightly wide feeling his cock nudge at your cervix, the bed nearly being pulled off its hinges, his words sent a shiver down your back, you're slightly thankful you had decided to keep taking contraceptive tea even if you weren't looking for sleeping around, not wanting to take chances. You push your hips back against his, moaning softly.

You can feel his knot swelling at the base of his shaft, promising a much more thorough breeding than either of you had expected. "Wait... What's that-" you whine, eyes wide, feeling the stretch, eyes rolling back, for the moment not caring for reasoning.

"Ah, fuck... I'm close," he groans, his grip on your hips tightening, fings turning into claws, scratching at you. "Can't hold back anymore." And then he came, his hot seed spilling deep inside your womb. His roar of pleasure fills the room as he rides out his orgasm, his knot locking you two together as he paints your insides with his cum.

For what seems like hours, time blurring together in a haze of lust and pleasure you continue, losing count of the orgasms you both had. Lost in the pleasure, you let instinct guide you, you collapse onto the bed, panting heavily, Rhysand rutting like an animal into you until you're too exhausted to continue. your bodies glistening with sweat.

"Mmm..." Rhysand pulled out softly, making you whine from being stretched too much by his knots, "I feel so much better now," he smirked, watching you sprawled on his bed, covered in both your fluids.

You pass out by the time he brings a clean washcloth to wipe away the cum from your body, snapping his fingers to replace the ruined sheets under you with clean ones.

"Y/N IT'S AN APHRODISIAC HE'S GOING TO GET REALLY HORNY BUT THEN BE OK, WE JUST NEED TO-" Cassian bursts through the room, eyes going from you passed out in Rhysand's bed to him pulling his pants up.

"'Let him ride it out'?" He smirked slyly, finishing what Cassian was thinking, "Oh, don't worry, y/n already did."

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

[bunni-v1]

You're so right about harumasa!!!! ): I know we need to see him more in-game first to have more to work with for content creation but ugh. Keeping myself (barely) sane thinking about lazy bf harumasa who never ever wakes up for his alarm and you gotta pry him off you to make him get up for work on time. Making that chronically ill king nutrient dense lunches, and nodding along with an understanding "I know, baby" when he comes to you whining about feeling sick. I don't care if he's lying or not I wanna baby him and be scolded by yanagi for indulging him!!

Slightly nsfw thought too but the idea of him being bored at work and texting u silly things, or being like "they're making me work overtime 🥺 can I see ur boobs" is so funny to me

Harumasamasa is just a baby, okay, that’s all he is. He needs alllllll the love and care in the world or else he’s gonna die! You don’t want him to die, do you?

No but seriously, me and my bestie have been talking about him A LOT (in relation to my OC lol), and we’ve made a few conclusions on him.

1) He is so NEEDY. He needs sooooo much attention, all the time. Always. He’s genuinely insufferable about it. He fully expects you to put down the things you’re working on just to pay attention, and if you don’t he’ll get super pouty and whiny. If you’re working, his head is in your lap or on your shoulder until you finally turn to him and give him all the affection he’s been begging for.

Not to mention that he really loves being cared for. He’s intentionally more lazy and useless around you because he loves being pampered like a princess. His favorite meals are meals made by you — and if you can’t cook it’s whatever you buy him. When you pull him out of bed in the morning, he’ll act like he can’t do anything right so you’ll come over and button up his shirt and fix his hair because he just loves when you pretty him up~

2) He’s a little shit. Obnoxious bastard does things just to get you all grumpy and grumbly because he thinks it’s just so cute when you’re mad at him. He’ll poke at your sides and tickle you because it’s funny when you squirm. And he’s such a tease, always making fun of you for how much you pamper him. (If you ever threaten to stop doing things he’ll grovel at your feet for forgiveness because “I was just joking baby, don’t be mean!”)

3) He’s obsessed with his partner. Thinks about you all the time, like a giggly little schoolboy. When you’re not there with him he’s texting you, and when you are there he’s probably hanging off you like a monkey. Brings you up as much as he can, which annoys the fuck out of poor Yanagi. (She’s happy he has someone who loves him, but he can be in love and also do his work… Also you need to stop spoiling him.)

Now obviously, as we get more info on him these ideas will change, but that’s the baseline we’ve decided on our cutie Haru~

As for the last bit you included… he is absolutely the type to beg you for nudes. Any time of the day too. If you don’t send them he’ll pout, but he’s not gonna be too upset. He’s at work after all. If Sokaku or Miyabi saw your nudes Yanagi would probably kill him. But if you do send him your nudes? God. God.

Runs to the restroom, genuinely the fastest Yanagi has ever seen him move. You won’t hear from him for a little while, and then he’ll send you a pic of his ruined underwear with a little “Thank you for the treat! Feeling way more energized now 😋”

Like god he’s such a dummy I love him.

[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting the mortal romance scene (both routes)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the mortal romance path scene dissecting the mortal emmrich argument scene (all routes) emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) dissecting the emmrich romance scene (lich) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic

home stretch baby, I have no idea how long this one will be as I'll save most of the nit grit for the master post

ALAS, lets go -

Emmrich, heart made of worry, mind racing a million miles. the relief in his voice, tainted with gratitude. he looks at rook like he has witnessed the sun and moon collide

Path 1 - I almost was. It was baffling.

I actually quite like this path - it has mourn watch specific dialogue, Rook is vunerable, and emmrich is a sweetheart at the end. there isn't much depth here - it feels like the logical dialogue piece, splash of optimism in there. its a refreshing piece for these two, but path 3 holds a mjority fo the emotion and fear and still tops my life in choices for this scene. ill expand below

Path 2 - It's all right. I'm safe.

in this path of dialogue, emmrich seems to have built some resilience and rook wants to push past the emotional side of it. this path feels, very 'lets just move on' if i'm being honest.

still feeling some distance in this dialogue - but this is probably due to the other paths having a more emotional side to them. emmrich also reaffirms to use here again about rook being remarkable in his eyes - their indomitability. and the, 'my love'. Oh he knows how to make us swoon.

Rook smiles at Emmrich.

Path 3 - Thought I'd be there forever.

this has to be my one and only choice in this scene as it represents rook ripping apart their own pride and ego, and allows them to be vulnerable with their love. with the knowledge of rook being stuck in the fade for weeks, this line hits even more harder than before. being teapped for weeks with your own regret, its horrifying. rook getting in touch with their emotions in this path is truly wonderful because emmrich respons with such glee and relief in his voice, he was terrfied. bar in mind the last conversation they had before rook dissappeared was the argument scene, so they both had so much regret and fear. gosh the love these two have.

BUT - I want to point out the mirroing of this scene in relation to Emmrich's fear of death and his lich path. "I was afraid I'd be there forever" and yes yes, I know its the same dialogue in the lich romance but in BOTH of them, it mirrors him somehow. Rook was not afraid of death, but afraid of mourning, and living with regret forever of losing emmrich. Mirroring how lich Emmrich would mourn Rook forever in the event of their death, per the argument scene. i just think its touching even if uninentional

the relief...oh my god the relief in his shaking voice. he is so grateful and ugh. We know emmrich doesn'y get over, and never will get over his fear of death, but being with rook has helped him in some way. even if slightly. He is given into himself being a fool in love and not worrying about how he is perceived as much. its beautiful, even if only a smidge.

Rook smiles at Emmrich.

All Paths Lead To

I AM INCONSOLABLE DO NOT TOUCH MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I NEED NOT SAY ANY WORDS - LOOK AT THIS. THE TENDERNESS. THE LOVE. THE PLESE DONT GO. THE WAY ALL OF HIS FEARS DISSAPEAR LOOKING AT ROOK. THE WAY HE ACCEPTS THE LOVE HE THOUGHT HE WOULD NEVER RECIEVE. THE WAY FLASHES OF MARRAIGE AND A FAMILY DAWN ON HIM IN THIS MOMENT. THE WAY NOTHING ELSE MATTERS BUT ROOK. the way he grunts, TWICe. THE WAY I AM SOBBING ON THE FLOOR. IM GONNA SAY IT AGAIN - SOULMATES. FADE MATES, SOUL BOUND, DONT CARE. INEVITABLE.

anyway

look i can only say it so many times. the guy is obsessed, rook is obsessed. emmrich had so much shame around his besottedness of being a fool in love. emmrich watched his parents die, of course he is terrfied that the love of his LIFE, the person he has YEARNED, DREAMED of meeting for 40 ODD YEARS. the way emmrich is a hopeless romantic, and always has been. the way that this is relateable with each passing day. emmrich dreamed of marriage, and having a close family. but no one shared his affection the way he did. and thank the MAKER no one wanted him like rook does. his heart sparked not with love at first sight for rook, but familiarity, a love which then buried itself deep in his bones, sprouting the love he has always yearned of. his search for an eternal, enduring affection - like how he engraved on their tombstones, "they walk eternity hand in hand"

oh yeah, after the fade to black, its very cute dialogue choices - emmrich wanting to fetch rook some breakfast. Rook comments -

to which emmrich will respond - dialogue varies but has this line regardless. god he is so confident in their eternal love

Option 1 will see a more romantic dialogue as suggested with rook touching his face gently and -

Rook will respond with "I know" and the two will kiss passionately and my heart explodes

Option 2 will have rook and emmrich go to bone zone for the second time - our man knows how to keep it going thats for sure

rook will whisper in emmrichs ear, the two will giggle and laugh and kiss, and he will get on top of rook and then you can see me crying in the corner because i love them so much

usually we go abit deeper with the dissection but honestly, there isnt much to say. and words arent needed here, you can see and feel the love and enduring affection they share for eachother - into eternity.

I'm so excited to share the Act 3 dissection and overal character breakdown of emmrich with you guys soon ♥

[bluejeanstrash]

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, just a little light-hearted fluff of seungcheol being a dramatic whiny baby when he’s sick, mentions of dry scalp and skin picking lol, seungcheol is very whiny | wc: 742

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

a classic cough and cold combo paired with a side of fever-related aches and pains — that was the diagnosis, not the life-threatening illness seungcheol was sure he’d contracted. he’d tried convincing you it was fast-spreading. like really fast. like it has taken over his body and has been shutting down his organs one by one for the past 6 hours fast.

‘i’m going to die. it’s not a joke anymore. i seriously feel like i’m going to die’ he tugs at the hem of your t-shirt as you clear up the mountain of tissues on the left bedside table, and then tugs again while you’re clearing up a pile of dishes on the right.

you sigh, ignoring him, and disappear into the kitchen to reappear with a fresh bowl of hot chicken soup ‘seungcheol, we’ve been over this already. you’re not going to die’

‘forget it! just get me my will. i have to make some last-minute changes’ he asks for it dramatically, draping a limp arm over his eyes.

‘you don’t have a will’ you blow on the hot soup in quick bursts before feeding him a spoonful.

‘ugh, never mind. it’s fine’ the will talk is waved off with a quick fan of the hand to make way for what he says next ‘they give everything to the spouse anyway. wait, do they?’

‘i don’t know, and we’re not married’ you remind him, stirring the hot liquid so the shredded chicken, his favourite part, rises to the top.

‘god, you’re right’ he sits up a little straighter and grabs your free hand, suddenly somber ‘do you take choi seungcheol to be your lawf-’

you force-feed him another spoonful to shut him up, a bit of it spilling onto the quilted blanket. the soup must’ve still been too hot because he lets out a little cry, whining, though it’s entirely possible he’s overreacting.

‘you’re not taking this seriously, i’m actually dying’

‘you’re not’

‘what do you know! you’re not a doctor!’ he grumbles, taking a moment to tell you he really likes the soup and really really appreciates you making it for him before continuing to rant.

‘yeah, and what about the actual doctor we called who said you’re not?’

‘he doesn’t know anything either, that hack. the people on the internet’ he picks up his phone from the bed, showing you a screenshot from some site you’re pretty sure is for hypochondriacs to confirm each other’s delusions, and taps on the screen ‘have told me i have less than 24 hours left. 24. 24!’

‘seungcheol, i can’t have this conversation with you anymore. seriously. you need to go to sleep’ you put the empty bowl aside, straightening, and then pulling the blanket up to cover him.

‘no, no, don’t leave. i want lap time’ he pouts, baby-talking his way into his third one of the day. you sit back down on the bed with a sigh as he repositions himself to lay on your lap, wriggling his head around until he’s comfy. your fingers slowly comb through his hair, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp to soothe him. in a slightly gross but domestic act, you pick a few bits of flaky skin out of his unwashed hair, flicking them away. you should wash it for him later, you think. he’d like that.

seungcheol always found the sensation of you picking at his scalp strangely comforting, and surprisingly quite sleep-inducing. minutes pass without a single sound.

it’s quiet. finally. or so you think.

‘if i die, you can’t date anyone for the next 10 years. at least’

‘what?!’ you jerk your thighs up, pushing him off your lap ‘10 years? you’re crazy’

he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

‘i was just being nice. you shouldn’t date anyone ever, but ohmygod, i can’t believe you want to be with someone else’ he presses his fingers to his temples, suddenly coming down with a headache.

‘so let me get this straight’ he continues ‘you’re telling me when i die tomorrow-’

‘you won’t’

‘-when i die tomorrow, you’re going to bring some other man to my funeral?!’ his cheeks now hot with a shade of distressed pink.

you’re not sure where he’s got that from but you’ve had enough. you get up, grabbing the bowl, and look him straight in the eye, pinching his cute little cheeks ‘well, it’s a good thing you’re not dying then’

you walk out, leaving him right there on the bed, hot and most definitely cold.

[tonkatsubowl]

aventurine can't help but admire you from afar.

the way the wind flows with your hair, the way your eyes lit up when you smile, the way you just... ugh, everything! despite being bold, haughty and confident, the man was actually a bit nervous to talk to you—or confess, even.

why?

trust issues and trauma, of course.

"i suggest you try speaking with them. in reality, not everyone will constantly betray you or stab you behind your back. take a leap of faith, and test the waters, gambler."

dr. ratio says as the gambler slumps back against his seat, grumbling. aventurine's face was occupied by an open book, in which he definitely did not read.

"this is all too frustrating. really, i'm experienced with talking with women, bedding them—but it's rather annoying that i can't even talk to them." aventurine sighs with a sheepish smile, "perhaps this is a curse that was placed upon me. truly, a riveting way to die." he sarcastically says.

"you're not going to die," dr. ratio says, folding his arms across his chest, "you are merely confused with your actions at this point. i had already suggested you a few ideas, and i won't speak any further."

"oh, c'mon now, don't be like that~."

"you are being pesky, and stubborn. the door is behind you whenever you wish to leave."

the gambler sighed, rubbing the back of his head, "alright, alright. i will leave you to your... whatever you were doing earlier. i'm not opposed to your suggestion, but rather, i am... conflicted, as you say."

dr. ratio sighed again. he did say he wouldn't speak any further after that. but finally, aventurine left, leaving the man be.

days later, you were with the express team. as though aventurine had successfully guessed you'd temporarily depart ways with your crew, he approached you. you were visiting a cat café that time, and he first admired you through the windows of the building. you were happy, and it was a beautiful sight. you held a few cats, took a small nap with a few of them, and you began to play with them. that was when he finally approached you, letting the cats come to sniff him out.

"my, i didn't expect you to visit this kind of café," aventurine says, catching your attention.

like a cat, you perked up, gaze wandering towards the familiar voice before your eyes sparkled upon seeing him. "oh, 'ven!"

his heart skipped a beat, but he hid it. he had nearly forgotten that you gave him a nickname the moment you two first met. aventurine was too much of a hard word to say, you told him that one day, so you decided to give him a nickname.

"the one and only." he says, lowering his sunglasses. as he sat next to you on the floor, the cats came to snuggle up against him. one cat, in particular—a white one with a luxurious collar—came to sleep upon his lap. you cooed at the sight, lifting a kitten and setting it on your lap.

"what brings you here? i didn't expect you to be the type of person to visit a cat café, especially with how busy you are."

aventurine shook his head, "i just wanted to see you."

you blinked, tilting your head. "you wanted to see me?"

he nods, stroking the cat on his lap, giving you a faint smile. "... i was wondering. this request i am about to make isn't business related, or anything of the matter. i've no ill motives behind it—but would you like to... come join me for dinner sometime tonight? that is, if you allow it if you aren't busy. or your... friends allow it." he knows how protective the express team can be of you.

you paused for a moment, blinking. "... like... like a date?"

he nods again, "a date."

"oh! then sure!" you smiled brightly, and your answer was instantaneous too. "i'll just let the others know i'll be busy tonight. where are we going?"

"ah, nothing too fancy (a lie). i just wish to show you my favorite spots here in penacony."

"okay! well, i'll try to dress up nicely, then."

"no need," aventurine shakes his head, "i've already set up a whole schedule for us. let's look at various of clothing later, and see which one you like most."

you blinked. you didn't have that much credits to spend, honestly... "ah... but my budget—"

"who said you were paying?" he flashed a smile. "my dear, i will be the one spoiling you tonight."

"... oh. but wait, that's so much money! please, you don't have to do all of that for me..."

"ah, don't worry! i have all the credits in the world."

"... o-okay."

the night of the date, you were a tad nervous. you didn't know what to wear, and luckily enough, march was kind enough to dress you up a bit.

waiting at the designated location of the date, aventurine shows up wearing his sunglasses as usual. he smiles, taking your hand into his, before gracefully leaving a kiss atop of the back of your palm. you lightly flush, before following the gambler towards wherever he wanted to go...

... and the first stop was the expensive clothing store! it consisted of luxurious of dresses, suits, tuxedos and what not. throughout your time there, the man was practically dolling you up. letting you try on different sets of clothes, getting one custom made on the dot, and even trying to have you match with him.

you finally found the right set, and it was ungodly expensive... but aventurine paid it off like it was nothing, and waited for you to come out with the dress, or whatever you had on. and once you left the dressing room, aventurine's heart melted a bit. his eyes softened, but the color of his shades had hid his admiration for your beauty. he clears his throat, snapping himself back to reality (dreamscape) before rising.

"you look stunning, (y/n)." he says, taking your hand once more, "i adore seeing that on you. perhaps you should wear it more frequently, it suits you like no other."

you felt butterflies roam in your stomach as you look at yourself in the mirror. "you... think so?"

he shakes his head, "i know so."

the second stop was a fancy restaurant. it was built into a casino, so from there, he introduced expensive, five star meals to you and showed you how to play a few games. he won you a cute little plush of (insert favorite animal) through a game vendor, and proceeded to bring you around. he was showing you off like a trophy, too, bringing his arm around your waist to show the world you were rightfully his.

at least, not yet.

the third and final spot was a scenery.

it took a while for the both of you to get there, but the hike was worth it. once you got to the top, you saw the outstanding view of penacony, and you took a moment to admire the horizon.

the night sky, how the stars sprinkled and welcomed you into their sights, and how... aventurine looked stunning underneath the night sky.

you admired him for a moment. he was truly a beautiful man, and instead of admiring the stars, you were admiring your future lover. you felt your heart melt as you sat, staring at him so lovingly.

"hmm? is there something on my face?" asked-he, his smile widening as though to tease you.

you decided to get a little bold, "beauty."

he chuckled to himself, his heart racing. his pride won't admit that he literally felt the world around him explode as you said that. there was just something about you that was just so... perfect.

and yet, all in all, the man was still terrified of you. given his trust issues and everything, he wasn't sure of you - but he knew that he was happy being around you.

all it took was time.

"i can say the same for you," he says in a soft voice, coming closer to you, "did you enjoy tonight?"

you smile, brushing his golden locks away from his visage, "i did. when will we have a second date?"

you paused.

"w-wait, i mean... that's too far, right? i mean, don't get me wrong, i-i'd love to have a second date with you, but that is if... you're okay with it!"

he blinked, before smiling, a chuckle leaving his lips as he returned the favor for you. brushing your hair away from your face.

"... i wouldn't mind. let's have another one again soon."

[thewritetofreespeech]

BG3 - Taking care of sick Reader

prompt: I'm sick. so I wrote this up to help me feel better.

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

‘Your head throbs in tandem with your own heartbeat. Pain coursing through your body with every stifled breath you take, as your tight chest struggles to fill with air. It had been a long time since you were sick. You nearly forgot how uncomfortable it was. Without the tadpoles protective qualities shield you anymore, this new wave hit you like a stone wall. You almost wished to have it squirming mass back in your brain just to be over this. Luckily, you were not alone at least.’

Astarion

“There there darling, allow me.” He handed you a small cup of water. Letting you sip from it for a bit before he put it back, and you fall back against the bed. “You still look awful.”

You glare at him; or at much as you could with this pain behind your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean…you must still be feeling bad and that is unfortunately for you.”

He sat on the edge of your bed, just looking at you. You can see a bit of concern on his handsome face. You wonder if he’s worried about you or what to do. “I’ve never had to take care of anyone who was sick before. I don’t know what to do.” So, it was the former. “Vampires can’t get sick. So I’ve spent the last few centuries in perfect health, minus a few injuries here & there.” He told you. “Should I…get you a new blanket? Prop your head up? Make soup? I’ve never actually made soup before either, but I’m sure I could be up to the challenge.”

You reach out and take his hand in yours. The cool feel of his skin a welcome reprieve against your warm, clammy one. - Just stay with me.

Astarion smiled. “I can do that.” He curled around to lay in the bed beside you. With no fear of sickness, he had no reason to stay away from you until this past. Your body letting out a sigh as his coolness enveloped you. Feeling some of your heat sap out, even over the covers. “You know, maybe I have a knack for this healing thing.” You let him think that, and curl into Astarion’s body to rest and try to regain your strength back. Sleep is easier this time. Hopefully you’ll be better soon enough.

Ascended!Astarion

Coughing and sputtering, you try to sit up as to not choke on your own spittle. An undignified end for a hero. To vanquish so many enemies and an Elder Brain, only to die by asphyxiating on their own sick.

“Still not feeling well, my treasure?” You look up to see Astarion standing in the doorway. His face neutral as ever, but with just the slightest hint of disdain only you can pick up on at the corner of his mouth. Maybe it’s the smell. Or perhaps because now you are so weak. “I bet you wish you had taken me up on my offer now, hm? This wouldn’t be happening to you if you had just listened to me.”

You watch him as he sauntered over to the side of your bed. Annoyed by his comments. You knew deep down Astarion was still hurt that you turned him down on becoming his spawn. He said such cruel things to you in the moment. Even with all that power, still the boy who lashed out at other. But even with everything he said, he’d never left you. Or more to the point you hadn’t left him, as this was his palace, but he hadn’t pushed you out. Comments and jabs here & there said out of latent anger, but always some excuse quickly on why you couldn’t leave just yet.

“Nothing can be done about it now though. I wouldn’t dream of biting you in this state. Agh…” You felt the shutter was uncalled for. You felt bad enough psychically already. Did you really need to be degraded too? “In any case, I’ve had the servants go and fetch you somethings to aid in your recovery. I wouldn’t know the first thing about mortal illnesses after all but they seem to know the trick.”

– Say nothing to him

Bending down at the waist, Astarion pressed his lips to your forehead. The cool touch soothing to your feverous brow. “Ugh. Salty. I’ll be much happier when you’re back to normal, pet. Anyway, must dash. If you need or want anything, please let the servants know. I’ve instructed them to tend to your every need, and expect no slip ups. I look forward to having a new conversation when you’re…better, my treasure.”

You knew, even as he left, what the conversation was going to be about. Another offer to turn you again. You had only turned him down before because you thought you’d have more time to decide. It was literally a life-changing decision. But, laying here, sick and weak as a kitten, you were beginning to wonder if the change might not be a welcome one, as you fall back asleep.

Gale

“Alright love. Here we are.”

You open your eyes and sit up. A little as a tray was sat across your lap. Bread, fruit slices, a bowl of something steaming, and…a flower, all adorn the tray in front of you, and you arch a brow at Gale. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to feed you any strange potions or what not. Despite all my magic and study, there seems no cure for the common cold. No, no, this is just good old kitchen ‘magic’. A Dekarios family recipe past down for generations.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. You trust Gale though and take your first bite. It is delicious.

“I’m glad you like it.” Gale told you with a smile. “I must admit, I feel a bit conceded in this moment in being able to help you. I wish I could say it was pure altruism, or concern for your health, but it’s not.”

- What do you mean?

“Well, I’ve never had someone to take care of before.” He told you. “Mystra never needed anything of me but my loyalty. And…my body from time to time. You need me for things though. Not as often as I would like sometimes. Your independence is a marvel still. But for now, I get to help you. Help you on the road to recovery. I hope it is a speedy one but I have to say,” he reached out and took your hand in his own, “I don’t mind taking care of you.”

You suppose his underlying message was sweet, and you weakly squeeze his hand back.

“I’ll leave you to eat and rest then. Should you need anything, anything at all, just ring this bell and I’ll come to help.” A bright, crystal bell appeared in Gale’s hand, which he presented to you before putting it on your tray. “Be well darling.” He gave you a quick kiss before he saw himself out. Checking on you regularly, with or without the bell, to make sure you didn’t need anything.

Wyll

“Still feeling under the weather then?” You look up to see Wyll entering the room. A bowl of something in his hand. “Come on. Sit up. You need to eat this.”

- Continue to lay down.

“Come on…don’t be like that.” Wyll moved to help you up with his free hand. As delicate and gentle as a badger as he hoisted you up. “Here. This will help you well better.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. It smelled of spices though. Rich and full, as well as a red color to it. To humor Wyll, you take a bite.

- It’s spicy!

“Of course it is. That’s how you know it helps. Tri-pepper soup. My grandmother used to make it for me when I was sick as a boy.” You stop gulping the water by your bed and look at Wyll. “Since my mother was gone, she took care of me often when my father was away. The duties of his work, then Flaming Fist, and then again Grand Duke kept him away a lot. So, she stepped in to take care of me. Until she got older, I had to take care of her. ‘til the end.”

You lower your spoon and just watch Wyll. The loss etched on his face like his scars. For someone usually so good natured, you forget how much he had lost in his life.

“But! Her recipes live on. Now, eat your soup to help sweat out the sickness. And you’ll be right as rain tomorrow. I guarantee it.”

You feel a little manipulated into eating the spicy dish. How could you say no to such a fine, dead woman’s recipe? It takes a lot of will, but you eventually gulp it all down. Wyll seemed pleased. He then took your bowl and left you to rest. Your stomach churning with the spicy soup now bubbling in it. Unable to fall back asleep with the torrent raging in your gut.

Shadowheart

A cool towel pressed against your forehead like a soft caress. Gentle and serene.

“I wish there was more I could do for you.” Shadowhearts voice called out behind the dark of your eyes. “My magic is only for curing wounds and battle ailments. Sicknesses well…being a source of comfort was not something that was taught to me.”

You want to tell Shadowheart that she was doing a fine job. But your mouth was dry, and your tongue felt like it was made of iron it was so heavy in your mouth.

“I can’t recall a time I was sick like this in the past. But I do remember once I was poisoned. Part of my training. Warriors of Shar must be immune to all poisons, least we fail our mistress in such an unseemly way. Anyway, it was horrible. I would writhe in pain for hours while I waited for the poisons to pass. Nocturne would come in now & then, with Mother Superior was busy, and dab my head like this. It helped. I hope it helps you all the same.”

- Turn towards Shadowheart and tell her thank you.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Shadowheart replied with a sweet smile. “After everything you’ve done for me. This is the least I can do.”

Shadowheart took the cloth away and stood from the bed. “I’ll let you rest now. I can…find some herbs and salts to maybe help with the pain. Again, this is not my forte. Eliminating pain. But…I can try.”

She rushed out of the room. Set on her task as you continued to lay in bed. Slowly drifting off to sleep for now, now that your skin was not so hot and your mind a little clearer.

Lae'zel

“What are you still doing in bed?” You turn to look at Lae'zel in your doorway. Her frame stoic and strong as ever. “There is much to be done today. We must make hast.”

- I can’t Lae'zel. I’m sick.

“tas'ki! Absurd. You’re much stronger than some istik disease. Get up and get moving. Your body will not heal if you continue to wallow in this manner.”

You try to sit up as Lae'zel commanded, but your head swims the second you get upright. Lae'zel sucked on her teeth. “Nevermind. Clearly you are in no condition to be out of bed today. I am unaccustomed to this, as no true Githyanki would dream of falling ill and be a burden on their crèche. Perhaps rest is what is needed.”

Before you can tell her thank you, Lae'zel went over to the window and opened it. Letting the cool, fresh air in. “But you must leave this window open to purge the sickness out. Wallowing is one thing, but to marinate in such sick? Disgusting.” You glare at her a little. Not appreciating that she was implying that this was all your plan.

“I will leave you to your rest and check on your progress later. I trust your recovery will be swift.” Lae'zel stepped closer to the bed. Still far enough away, but closer than she was. “Get well soon. It pains me to see a warrior like you weakened this way. And someone I am fond of. It crushes my heart. I do not like it.”

Your face turns into one of surprise at Lae'zel’s back as she left the room. Closing the room behind her. You had not expected that from Lae'zel. To show open concern. The room was much colder now, but the crisp air was a welcome expanse in your lungs. You would need to get up to close them later, but perhaps that was Lae'zel’s plan all along.

Karlach

“Hey there soldier. Feeling any better?” You lull your head to the side to stare at Karlach. “Oof. That good eh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

She pulled up a chair by your bed and sat down. Face still in that almost perpetual smile of hers. Optimistic as ever, although a bit more tepid than usual. “But hey, you’ll be fine though. You’re tough! I’d check if you had a fever or something but…you know.” Karlach held up her hand. Still fiery and hot from her infernal engine, even if she was gifted to touch. “I wouldn’t be the best judge on who runs hot.”

The two of you sat there for a bit in quite. But quite was never long with Karlach. “So how do you think you got sick? Too long out in that swamp marsh? Going to sleep with wet hair again? Like, when I get stabbed, I know exactly where it came from. Do you know when you got bit by the sickness bug?”

- I don’t know Karlach. Please let me rest.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous. Guess that doesn’t help. I’m just worried…you know…that this might not be something I can help you fight. Monster, demi-gods, ghouls, I can fight that all day! But this…you have to do it on your own. And I hate sitting by the side lines.”

Karlach stood. Leaning in to give you a brief, warm peck on your cheek. “I’ll let you get some sleep then. But let me know if you want some company. I’m really good at that part.”

The tiefling then left, and the room suddenly felt emptier without her presence. Like a void had just sucked up all the energy without Karlach in it. Still, you fell asleep. Trying to think of interesting dreams that you might share with Karlach when you wake up. You were sure she would enjoy that.

[ghostreblogging]

Pest control Danny

So Danny is Damian's twin and like the usual jazz. YOU ARE ALIVE?. HAHA NO.

So batfam noticed something. When Danny thinks no one is looking he is muttering die pests and stomping his foot and in general trying to kill something

Alfred thinks Danny saw pests and does not hesitate.

Anyway like a few months later world is in danger yada yada and they need the help of a minor demon, who literally stole the key they need and they need to trade for it.

And the encounter goes like this.

Constantine: we are dealing with a minor demon, don't lower your guard just because it's a lower demon. It managed to steal the key.

Bat: hn

So Constantine summons the demon and the demon gets summoned

Demon:well well-

Danny:ITS YOU!

Demon: huh? Yes-

Danny:NOT YOU, YOUHAVE YOU BEEN THE ONE BRINGING PESTS INNNN THE HOUSE? Ugh later ILL TALK TO YOU LATER need to get rid of this

Batfam : wait a min-

Danny straight up lunges at the demon breaking the circle in the process and no longer trapping it but still Danny grabs it by the legs as it was trying to escape and he just literally kills it.

John Constantine slowly backing away : uhh we needed a . . . thing from that . . ."

Danny: I'll get that key for you, but for the love of the ancients stop summoning things . Gotham is arleady cursed enough as it is

[blackenedsnow]

hallo!

I really love your writing style and I love that your write about mental illnesses

I was wondering if you could do a fluff beetlejuice x reader one-shot where the reader has hypersomnia? It's basically the opposite of insomnia, where no matter how much they sleep they always feel tired, with rare bursts of energy ;v; I just wanna cuddle lots with beetlejuice while I sleep lots <3

dreamstate daze

WARNING: Hypersomnia, mentions of exhaustion and fatigue; overall soft fluff

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Reader

NOTE: Hii! <3 Thank u so much for reaching out!! Love that idea, and hypersomnia? ugh, I get it. Enjoy this lil fluff bomb ♡

SUMMARY: You don’t know why sleep won’t ever feel quite right, but Beetlejuice doesn’t mind.

Everything feels heavy, always. Your body, your mind – it’s like gravity has doubled just for you. No matter how much you sleep, you never feel rested. You wake up and you're still tired, still exhausted, like you just can’t catch a break. You're so used to it now that it’s become your normal. You don’t even fight it anymore. You just... exist, in a haze of exhaustion, floating through your days.

The few moments when you have energy are rare, fleeting, like flashes of lightning in an endless storm.

But then there’s Beetlejuice.

He’s always there, a wild spark of energy against your quiet haze. He never gets tired. He never slows down. But he doesn’t judge you for it, doesn’t call you lazy or ask you to do more than you're capable of.

You're curled up on the couch, buried beneath a thick blanket, your eyes heavy, body sluggish. You can’t bring yourself to do anything but lay here, feeling like you've been underwater for days, the weight of the world pressing down on you. It’s a feeling you've grown used to, but it doesn’t make it any less suffocating.

“Hey,” a voice murmurs above you, and you crack open one eye, just enough to see Beetlejuice standing there, his trademark grin stretched across his face.

“You gonna keep napping all day, or you gonna let me cuddle you, huh?” He moves closer, a glint of mischief in his eyes, but there’s a tenderness to his tone that makes you smile despite yourself.

“Too tired,” You mumble, closing your eyes again, the exhaustion pulling me under like a tide.

He doesn’t give up that easily. Instead, you feel his arms wrapping around you, lifting you with ease as though you weigh nothing. You can’t help but sigh, the weight of him somehow grounding you, even as you still feel like you could fall asleep at any moment. He pulls you close, tucking you against his chest.

“Okay, you’re not going anywhere,” he says, settling beside you, his hands rubbing small, soothing circles on your back. “I can deal with you being all sleepy. I’ll make sure you don’t fall into the endless void, yeah?” He snorts, like it’s some kind of joke, but his voice is softer now, the teasing gone.

It’s hard to talk when the fatigue sinks this deep, like you’re trying to move through honey, but you manage, barely above a whisper. “Don’t… don’t get bored.”

“Bored?” He lets out a huff, more amused than offended. “Sweetheart, I’ve been six feet under for a century or two. There ain’t a chance I’m bored here.” He leans closer, voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Especially not when I get to do this.”

You feel his arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you into his chest. His heartbeat isn’t there, of course, but he’s warm, or maybe it’s just the feeling of him being so close that tricks you into believing it. His chin rests on top of your head, and it’s like he’s curling himself around you, willing to make himself smaller, quieter, just to fit into your need for rest.

“’S’like you’re waiting for me to die or something,” you mumble, only half-joking.

He laughs—quiet but rough, like gravel tumbling down a hill. “Nah. That’d be too easy. I’m in it for the long haul, babe.”

[cookie-waffle-art-and-stuff]

Voyagers Chapter 4: Troubled Minds

Rung realizes he may be a bit too overworked on The Ark

Content Warnings: Topics regarding mental illness and trauma

Prominent Characters: Elita One, Rung, Bumblebee, Windblade, Red Alert, Starscream

Elita One sat stiffly on Rung’s couch, her face in her hand, not saying anything.

“If you’ll allow me, Madame,” Rung began gently, “I could start if you’re finding yourself unable to.”

Elita ex-vented, dragging her palm over her optics. “Go ahead.”

Rung adjusted his posture. “Very well, then,” the doctor started. “Do you have a clear memory of what happened last week?”

Elita’s gaze dropped to the floor. “It’s fuzzy… I just know that my behavior was unacceptable.”

Rung nodded. “Acknowledgement is a good first step. Not everyone is as introspective.”

Elita sat up slightly, rubbing the side of her sore right upper arm. It had been welded back on, but still needed to heal internally. It had to be in a sling for a few weeks. She looked to the side, avoiding the other bot’s optics.

“Can you remember what triggered the episode? You don’t have to answer if you can’t, but it might help me get a better understanding of the incident.”

A bitter laugh escaped her. “What didn't set me off?”

Rung lowered his notepad and looked at Elita. “Could you elaborate?”

Elita sighed. She took a long pause, deciding if she wanted to answer or not. “I felt… Like I was in the same damn place I was back at home.” Elita stood up and began pacing around the room. “Ironhide isn’t the first friend I’ve had to watch die on a hospital bed. Nor is it the first time I’ve had to comfort a loved one while doing so. And every time I see Chromia…” Elita halted mid-step, “Whenever I look at her I just.. I see myself. And when I look at Ironhide I think of when Optimus was critically wounded by Megatron and I- “She sighed again, “I’m being selfish, I know. I need to be focusing on being there for Chromia and my kids, not on my past woes…” She sat back down on the couch, landing a bit too hard. She grabbed her arm and winced in pain from the mild impact.

Rung scooted over a little closer to his client. “You’re not selfish. You’re just a person like the rest of us are. And a lot— I’d even dare to claim all —of us, are deeply traumatized people. Be easier on yourself.”

“Still not an excuse for my behavior.”

“Do you think there was any one specific thing that might have triggered a PTSD episode?”

“No… Well, maybe it was just the sight of Starscream and his stupid smug face.” Her brows furrowed at the thought of the former high-rank Decepticon. “Why does he defend them?”

“Come again?” Rung adjusted his glasses.

“Optimus! After all, we’ve been through, after all that animals like Starscream and Megatron did to us!” Elita’s optics glowed brighter as she continued “Don’t get me wrong, Rung. There are many well-reformed ex-cons on the fleet. But some people can’t just… UGH! Who shouldn’t be offered any kindness from us? It’s like Oppie can’t even remember what has happened in the past several billion cycles! I don’t get it! Why does he have to be so relentlessly forgiving? WHY is he allowing Starscream to run loose on the ship and letting Mebatrom just waltz on in whenever he wants?! He didn’t even take my side when our own kid started dating Deadlock!”

“Drift.”

“What?”

“His name Is Drift, now.”

Elita squinted her optics. “Right…”

“Apologies for interrupting.”

Elita rubbed her hand against her face. “look, Rung, I know Dead- ugh, DRIFT is a lot more well-mannered than someone of the likes of Starscream. But it doesn't matter how much he tries to repent. Doesn’t matter how often he meditates or how spiritual he’s become. It doesn’t even matter if he feels genuine remorse! He still has more blood on his hands than most of us do. I mean, is Hot Rod even aware of how many people he’s harmed?”

“Oh, he knows.”

“There’s no way he knows.”

“Elita, trust me, he knows. And he certainly knows a lot more about Drift than either of us do.”

Elita leaned back in her seat and let another long vent. “Shit… He’s just like his father, isn’t he?” She sat there for a few moments, looking down at her legs, saying nothing.

“Elita One? Are you alright?”

“……No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Rung could see her free hand gripping her thigh. “Are you certain, madame?”

Her shoulders began to shake as she tried and failed to choke back on her tears. She covered her face with her hand, turning away.

Rung brought the chair in closer. “Hey, hey, it’s okay to cry. If there’s anyone you don’t need to hide your tears from, it’s me.” He reached out a hand, but she didn’t take it.

“I miss him.” Her voice cracked, barely a whisper.

“Optimus, I take it?”

Elita silently nodded, wiping tears away from her optics.

Rung leaned back in his seat, thinking of what to say next. He wasn’t trained as a relationship counselor, but neither was anyone else in the fleet. “Elita, no one comes out of a merge break unscathed. It causes permanent physical damage to your spark. Your tears are more than justified. Never having been part of a merge myself, I can’t even begin to imagine-”

“We’re still merged.”

“You are?”

“Of course we are. We’ve been merged for the majority of our lives. We are bonded for life. Even if we tried to break the merge, we’ve done it too many times. We have far too much of each other’s sparks in our chests to break without killing each other in the process.”

“Wait, so, You two are split up… but still merged? Elita, you do know that-”

“YES, I know!” Elita blurted out louder than she intended. “I can’t even hear the sound of his voice without my spark practically trying to leap out of my chest to join his!”

“And you also know that it’s going to get worse.”

“Yes… I miss him every day of my life.” She looked at her injured arm. “I know he’s probably feeling it too, but, we can’t merge again. We’ve grown too far apart.”

Merge breaks were potentially deadly, but there was at least a chance for survival. But unsuccessful merges were always fatal, hence why very few conjunx endures attempted to merge.

Merging was Primus’s gift to Prima and Megatronus, two of the original 13 primes. The Allspark said to hold a piece of Primus himself’s spark, was what gave Transformers the ability to create offspring without the well. But one Transformer’s spark was not powerful enough to create another without killing the parent. There needed to be at least two. The more people who are a part of the merge, the stronger the resulting offspring will be.

Spark merging was exactly what it sounded like it was. Two or more transformer sparks temporarily merge into one. For a few moments, the merged become the same person. Sharing all thoughts, emotions, and memories. Afterward, much of it fades away like a dream. But each merge results in leaving a little bit of you in your partner’s spark chamber. Legend says, that if you merge enough times your bodies combine permanently. But no Transformer has been able to prove that as true.

Elita and Optimus merged a few cycles after the war had started. Both knew it was a horrible idea at the time, but the spark doesn’t always ask for permission. Sometimes the merge just happens accidentally while interfacing. To create new life, it couldn’t just be one merge. It was a very complicated process that involved both recreation interfacing and spark merging. Elita and Optimus had planned to have a sparkling after the war, but they never got the chance to. Sometimes, Elita allowed her mind to wonder what their child would have looked like. She missed having children, but both she and Optimus refused to bring a new spark into a world that may not have even been there by the time they grew up.

Rung was genuinely at a loss for words. He desperately wanted to offer advice, but even he wasn’t sure how he’d handle the situation if he were in Elita One’s place. But alas, he tried his best. “If you don't mind me asking, how is your relationship with Hot Rod, currently?”

Elita let out a groan. “I think he’s still angry at me. I also think he’s been deliberately avoiding having to see or speak to me.”

“And why do you think that might be?”

“He knows I don’t want him around Drift.” She began absently fidgeting with one of her antennae, “I know he’s far more than old enough to be making his own decisions. And I know he’s confident about Dea-Drift being reformed. But dammit, that’s my KID! How could I just smile and nod while watching him put all his love and trust into someone with a past like Drift’s!”

Rung took off his glasses and removed a cloth from his storage space to clean them. “Correct me if I’m out of line here Elita… but have you ever considered trying to get to know Drift yourself?”

“Hah! I'd sooner adopt a scraplet!”

“I’m serious. You should consider it. It may ease the tension between you and Hot Rod. And hey, if you find some current dirt on him, you’d have the satisfaction of proving your point.”

“That’s one of the things I’m afraid of. I’m already on bad terms with Roddy, the last thing I want to do is be the one to break his spark. I can’t always be the bad guy here!”

“Elita, I’m going to be honest with you. We live a VERY long time. We’ve all been through more pain than we can measure. The one thing keeping all of us sane, and therefore alive, is family and camaraderie. We need to fight for the people we have in our lives now before we end up having to spend the rest of our long, painful lives without them. And I think it would be a great benefit to you and Hot Rod to have you both here, but he would have to agree to come along.”

Elita stopped for a moment to think. “Maybe I’ll have civil a chat with Drift… but I doubt Roddy will agree to come to therapy,” she murmured.

“That’s fine. Perhaps you may even start to understand Prime’s view on things a bit more.” Rung gently set his glasses back on, pushing them in with his index finger.

Elita turned sharply, antennae twitching. “The only way I’m ever going to understand Oppie’s reasoning for being so easy on dangerous ex-cons is if I merged with him again. And like I said, the resentment that has grown between us— It’s too risky.”

“Then maybe…” Rung tried to sound like he knew what he was talking about. “Maybe you could try to start over instead? I think what you have in mind is jumping back into the relationship right where you two left off. But lovers don’t always work out that way. Sometimes, starting over slowly is the best way to rebuild a relationship with an ex-conjunx.”

Elita waited another moment, then stood up and began pacing around again.

“Elita One?”

She stopped pacing, biting the tips of her fingers. “I doubt he’d ever want me back. Especially not after what happened the other day. And even before that, the last time we had a real conversation we had…”She hesitated, looking away. “It was not long after the war ended. An argument. A bad one. Intense argument over Megatron.”

“The war ending is what caused you to split?”

“not entirely,” Elita said quickly. “At first I was elated, Just like everyone else. But then Oppie wouldn’t tell me why. And then he started visiting Megatron in prison. I was just so FRUSTRATED with him suddenly not telling me anything! And when we discovered the supernova, that’s when it happened. The argument, I mean. He wouldn’t stop INISITING that Megatron was a reformed bot and that we should let him on the fleet instead of just executing him.”

Rung tilted his head.“Hasn’t Optimus always been highly against executions?”

“OF COURSE! But it’s MEGATRON. There is not a shred of doubt in my mind that he is taking advantage of Oppie’s forgiving nature, and has somehow convinced my sparkmate that D-16 is still in there somewhere!”

“Elita,” Rung said carefully, “Megatron is also my client. I can’t delve into personal patient information, and I won’t claim to understand everything that goes on in his mind, but I can tell you that he’s trying. I can see it He’s trying as hard as he can.”

“Then he’s lying to you, too. Do you honestly think he’s not just going to shoot Oppie in the back and try to take over Theta-3 the moment we land?”

“And do YOU honestly think Megatron would even attempt to do that when Autobots and Nuetrals greatly outnumber the surviving Decepticons? He doesn’t even have his fusion canon anymore. He left it back on-.” He slapped a hand over his mouth, optics widening. “Scrap… I wasn’t supposed to share that information.”

“What did you just say?”

“I wasn’t supposed to “

“He left his fusion canon back on Cybertron?!”

Rung shut his optics, slapping his palm against his forehead. “Uuugh…. Yes. But do NOT tell anyone else!”

Elita Blinked. “I had always assumed he at least wore it on the Nemesis…”

Megatron’s fusion canon might as well have been permanently welded onto his arm. He never went anywhere without that thing. He even slept with it on. And if rumors were true, he didn’t take it off while interfacing either.

Elita’s optics darted around the floor, processing the new information. “But why would he leave it?”

“He wasn’t lying about his vow against violence.” Rung explained gently. “I completely understand your anger and resentment towards him, but I think his actions have been speaking louder than his words. He never wants to see that canon again in his life.”

Elita sank back down into her seat, her expression torn. Again, she didn’t speak for several moments. Rung gave her time to think. She rubbed the back of her neck. “I…. forget it—“

“Come again, Madame?”

“Oppie… I want to trust his judgment so badly but—“ her optics flared in frustration. “I DON’T KNOW!” She grabbed one of her antennae, tugging at it as she fought back the threat of tears.

Rung offered his hand again, this time she took it. “I can’t tell you what to do, Elita. But I can see that you still care for him. Who’s to say he doesn’t miss you just as much?”

Elita looked at her arm, gently placing her hand over the injury. “It was… it was just so easy for him to cut it off… No hesitation.”

“And you think that hasn’t been tearing him up inside ever since? You know him better than any of us, Elita.”

“I suppose…” She vented.

“Bonded for life, remember?”

She managed a weak laugh “I do still feel bad for throwing him.” She got up for a final time. “I should go apologize… Right now.”

“While I admire your determination, you still have a day left to spend in psychiatric care. Just be patient, we still have at least 10 cycles to go on this ride, he’ll still be there when you get out.”

“I hope you’re right about him, Rung. I want to believe you so badly.”

He wanted to say “I hope I am, too.” but decided it was unwise. Instead, he just nodded.

“Well Elita, I’m glad I got the chance to speak with you. But I’m afraid our time is almost up, and my next client should be coming in soon.”

“I understand. Thank you, Rung. Truly.”

Rung reached out to shake her hand but was surprised with a hug instead. “Oh!” He awkwardly patted her on the back. “Um… Thank you!”

When she let go of Rung, she wiped away one last tear before saying her final goodbye. Once outside the office, she was supposed to go back to psych care with Chase. She hated having to be supervised like a child, but she knew it was a temporary policy for psych patients were were in care due to violent behavior. Chase was only doing his job.

But Elita found herself distracted once she spotted Bumblebee waiting outside for his appointment.

“Hello, Little Bee.” she knelt and welcomed him into a hug. They pressed their foreheads together. “I’m so, so sorry about what I did, Little Bee. I must have worried you sick!”

Bee took his mother’s hands into his own. “I’m not angry at you, just worried. We all are— especially Dad.”

Chase walked up from behind Elita. “Ma’am, it’s time to go.”

“Just give us a moment, please.”

“Elita-“

Bumblebee separated from Elita and then placed himself between her and Chase. His horns curled back and his door wings raised as a warning. The hole in his neck vibrated with a low growl.

“Woah there, little guy!” Chase raised his hands. “I’m not going to harm her.”

Bumblebee stared the officer down, juking forward at him.

“Bumblebee! What has gotten into you?”

Bee lowered his wings and looked back at Elita, frowning with his big blue optics dimmed.

“I’m sorry, Chase.”She stepped between him and Bee. “He’s just being protective.” She turned back to Bee and gently caressed his crest. “I’ll be alright, Little Bee. Chase is only following policy.”

Bumblebee sheepishly looked at Chase. He mouthed the words, “I’m sorry…” before running into Rung’s office.

Rung saw his client rush in, “Woah, Bee, what’s the rush?”

Bumblebee lightly shook his head, signifying a, “Nothing”

Rung looked behind the small mech. “Where’s Optimus? Could he not make it?”

Bumblebee shook his head again, horns curled down.

“That’s alright. We can take this as slowly as you need. We don’t even have to discuss your experience today if you can’t do it.”

“Thank you…” Bee mouthed.

“Very well. Is there anything else on your mind that you want to talk about?”

Bumblebee’s horns slightly perked back up. He took Rung’s hands. “Well, Windblade is back on the Ark…”

Rung’s big eyebrows raised. “Ah! Thought I saw her pass by me in the halls the other day. How have you two been?”

Bumblebee looked down, his optics glowing slightly brighter, “Well, we’ve been hanging out a lot…”

Rung leaned forward, smiling. “Aaand?”

“I haven’t told her yet— It almost slipped out while we were drinking together last night, but I chickened out again. I’m not sure I can do this, Rung. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before…”

“Oh, Bee,” Rung said softly.

“I know you said I should give it a shot but, haven’t been the same since…” Bumblebee took a deep vent. “Since the injury.” He paused and looked at the stars outside of Rung’s window. “When we first met, it was at a victory celebration where I was singing in a gig with Jazz, Blaster, and the cassettes. She said she loved my voice… And when I first spoke to her, I made her laugh. A lot. She loved my jokes…” He closed his optics and dropped his head. “But now… I’m angrier. Always, frustrated, always in pain. I’m always running on low power because I have nightmares whenever I try to recharge. Maybe if I had realized how I felt much, much sooner, I would have had a chance. But now-“

“Bumblebee, you are the same person as before. You’re traumatized, and I’m certain Windblade is wise enough to understand what trauma does to someone.”

Bumblebee looked back out the window. “Maybe you have a point… She’s also had her share of scarring memories during the war after all.”

“Look around you. Trauma may have changed you, yes. But you are still loved. I’m not sure there’s even anyone else on the Ark that has as many friends as you, Bee.”

Bumblebee turned and looked back at Rung. “I really love her, Rung. But I’m so scared.”

Rung gave his client’s hands a comforting squeeze. “Loving someone that deeply is extremely rare. I’m several vorns older than you are, and even I have yet to meet someone I feel that way about. Even if she says no, I truly think it’s worth a shot.”

Bumblebee took a deep vent, his optics dimming briefly before glowing steadily again. “You really think so?”

“I do.”

Bee leaned back into his seat, letting go of Rung’s hands. He thought for a while, then nodded, a light smile appearing on his face.

The rest of the session was uneventful, but Rung did give Bee a prescription for sleep-aiding medication. “These are in extremely low supply, and a lot of bots need it. Don’t take any more than your prescribed dose, because you won’t get an early refill.”

Bumblebee gave an acknowledging nod.

Rung patted Bee’s shoulder on his was out. “Good luck, Bumblebee. And whatever happens, you can always come talk to me.” He lowered his voice to a light whisper. “I’ll even let you in when I’m off work.”

Bumblebee smiled, then gave Rung his second hug that day, this one being a lot tighter.

“Haha, Th-thank you Bee.”

Bumblebee was the last scheduled appointment Rung had that day. Now he was open for walk-ins. He took the opportunity to take a break and brew himself a cup of energeon tea. He was just about to pour in his sweetener when a red, white, and black mech forced the door open, ran in, and started yelling incoherently.

“HE IS HERE. HE IS HERE AND HE HAS FOUND US AND WE SHALL BE CONSUMED BY HIS LUST FOR AGONY!!!!!!!!”

“Woah, woah, WOAH! Hey!” Rung backed up. “Red Alert! Let’s try to settle down!”

“HE SHALL PUNISH US FOR ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE OUR FATE! I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN AND NOBODY BELIEVED ME!!!!!!”

“How about we just sit down, and you can tell me all about it. And….” Rung looked around the room. “Where is your supervisor?”

“THEY WOULDN’T LISTEN!!! I SAW HIM! I SAW HIM AMONGST THE STARS!!!!!”

Rung pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, jeez— Alright just sit down, Red Alert. I’ll listen to you.”

“Yes! Thank you, Doctor! Thank you!” Red Alert aggressively shook Rung’s hand with both of his, nearly lifting the much smaller mech off the ground.

Red Alert cautiously sat down on the couch, optics fixated on the window. Rung sat down across from him.

“What’s the matter, mate?”

“UNICRON, GOD OF CHAOS AND CONSUMER OF WORLDS SHALL REIN HIS VENGEANCE DOWN UPON US!”

Rung blinked, “Inside voices, Red. I can’t understand a thing you’re saying when you’re yelling like that.”

“OH- I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better.” Rung gestured for him to proceed.

Red Alert cleared his throat, “I was looking out the window at the rear of the ship. And I-I-I saw him, Rung! I saw him! Unicron has followed us!” Red Alert was trembling as if he had just witnessed a murder.

“Red Alert—“ Rung sighed, “we’ve been through this. You’re just seeing Shaula from a distance.”

“No, no it’s not like last time! It’s not a star! I saw something MOVE!”

“Red, did you take your medication today?”

Red Alert stiffly shook his head.

“Do you think we should probably go do that?”

“They only make me take them to shut me up!”

Rung shut his optics, rubbing his temples. “We’re trying to look out for you, Red.”

“No, no, not you too! You’re the only one on this ship who listens to me!”

“And I am still listening to you, Red Alert. But you aren’t well right now. Paranoid Personality Disorder makes it difficult to rationalize. The meds you take help you think more clearly and be less frightened.”

“NO NO NO NO NO! HE IS UPON US!!!”

First Aid suddenly stumbled in. “Come on, Red Please don’t make this difficult!”

Red Alert shoved First Aid over as he barreled back out the door. He could be heard outside, transforming and speeding away. Rung leaped up to stop him, but First Aid was too quick to get to his feet and hold out a hand in front of him.

“This is my job, Rung. You stay right there!” The medic transformed inside the office and drove after Red Alert, scraping the inside of Rung’s door frame on the way out.

“Bloody hell…” Rung murmured.

Red Alert was practically a permanent resident in psychiatric care. Always fearful and constantly on suicide watch. He was SUPPOSED to be working as the ship’s security director, which was a job he used to excel at. But the troubled mech was so shaken by the war that it left him in a constant state of paranoia. The voyage had only been worsening the poor bot’s condition.

Rung was able to finally finish preparing his tea. He sat down and began sipping on his drink, trying to take Red Alert off his mind. It wasn’t long before he heard someone knock on his door.

Rung leaned his head back in his seat, exasperated. “Break is in 2 hours.” He reminded himself before calling out to his next client to come in.

A young fembot shyly poked her head through the door frame, the signature Camien tattoos on her face making it clear who it was.

“Windblade! Please,” Rung gestured towards the couch, smiling. “have a seat.”

The Camien jet sat down in the center of the couch, back straight and shoulders tense.

“Saw Bee earlier today. I won’t go into specifics, but he always says good things about you!”

Windblade nervously laughed. “Yea… Bee is great.” She forced an awkward smile, tapping her thighs with her fingers.

“Was there something you wanted to see me for?”

“I’m just… Checking in on my mental status. Always important to keep both mind and body healthy after all!” She gave another awkward laugh.

Rung raised an eyebrow. “You seem a bit tense.”

“Who? Me? Nooooo, I’m fine! Well I mean, I’m not completely FINE. Why would I be here if I was totally fine!” Windblade responded, still smiling.

“Alright… So, what was-“

“I had sex with Starscream.”

Rung nearly spat out his tea. “…………Come again?” He asked, feeling his spark drop to the pit of his fuel processor.”

“AAARGH! I don’t know what I was thinking!” Windblade suddenly raised her voice. “I felt so awful for him after the incident with Elita. His stay in the med bay was extended due to the assault. I went to visit him in his new room, alone.”

“Please— don’t tell me you did it in the medbay.”

Windblade tapped her thumbs together. “No… I snuck him back to my quarters for the night. At first, we were just going to have a few drinks…”

Windblade explained what happened that night;

She had walked Starscream to her quarters, with him still sore from the two previous attacks.

He walked up to her mirror. He hadn’t seen his own reflection since before the first attack. His armor was covered in scratches. The soft alloy that made up his face was scarred and still very sore. “I look like shit.” He huffed.

“You can borrow some of my makeup if you’d like.”

Starscream’s optics widened. “Really? Where is it?”

“First drawer under that mirror.”

“Ooooh!~” Starscream opened the drawer, seeing various containers of face polish and lip paint.

Windblade walked up next to him. “I think you should use the medicated faceplate polish. It won’t irritate the cuts on your face and might help soothe the pain a little.”

Starscream held up a tube of deep red lip paint, smiling at it. “Mind if I borrow this one too?”

Windblade playfully giggled, “Sure, Star!” She took her entire makeup kit out of the drawer and set it down on her window-seal. Then sat on it with Starscream after she brought two pints of low-grade. The lights in the room were off, save for one lamp. This way, they had a clear view of the gorgeous stars and nebulae that painted the black backdrop of the void.

“You know, as much as I hate this goddamn trip-” Starscream started gazing out at the universe as he rubbed polish around his cheek, “I’ll never get tired of this view. Even the clearest nights on Cybertron didn’t look this spectacular.”

Windblade leaned back against the wall with her arms crossed. “Neither did the nights on Caminus.”

“Ah, yes… forgot about that colony.”

“Windblade furrowed her brow” You certainly wouldn’t be the first.

“Sorry about the whole er…. The whole thing about your planet running out of resources and everyone dying… thing.”

Windblade raised an eyebrow at the red seeker and snickered. “You aren’t very practiced at consoling people, are you?”

Starscream half-heartedly shrugged, looking into a hand mirror as he painted his lips. “Oh, I look absolutely delectable in this color!”

“It does look great on you! You can keep it if you want. I have a spare, anyway.”

“Why think you, darling!” Starscream turned his face from side to side, admiring himself in the mirror. His expression changed for a moment.

“Something wrong, Star?”

The seeker slightly narrowed his optics. “Why exactly don’t you hate me just like everyone else?”

Windblade looked into the mech’s optics. “I guess I just figured you needed someone to have your back.”

“I can take care of myself!” Starscream snapped, immediately regretting it and softening his tone, “But, er… thanks for not despising me, I guess…”

Windblade tilted her head. “Can I be honest, Starscream?”

“What is it?”

“I think you have trust issues.”

Starscream gasped, clutching his chassis in mock surprise, “NO, do I?”

Windblade smirked, taking a sip of her drink. “I can’t exactly say I blame you. But I do think you should try to be a bit more open about making friends. It’s not gonna be as easy making it to Theta-3 with your sanity if you spend the entire trip alone. We all need each other right now.”

Starscream creased his eyebrows and batted his optics. “But aren’t WE~ friends?” He lightheartedly exaggerated.

Windblade laughed. “Yeah, I’d say we are.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the stars. This distance between them seemed to shrink when Starscream slowly turned back and looked into the optics of the other jet. “Windblade…” he started, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yes?” Windblade whispered back.

“Those markings on your face— did you emerge from Caminu’s forge with them?”

“They’re tribal tattoos, actually.”

Starscream softly smiled. “Very interesting! Your pain tolerance must be something to admire.”

“Oh, don’t even REMIND me.” Windblade exaggerated, making Starscream slightly giggle.

“I think they’re beautiful.”

Winblade blushed and bashfully averted her optics. “Th-Thank you!” She mustered up the courage to look back into his optics, softer than she had ever seen them before. “Did you emerge with the black tearstain markings?”

“Yes, and so did my siblings. Faceplate markings are very common in seekers.”

Starscream had thick black markings covering his optic lids, like permanent mascara. Markings known as ‘tear stains’ ran down from his optics to the start of his neck. Markings like this were often considered physically attractive in many cultures.

“You’re very handsome. But I’m guessing you are already aware of that.” Winblade complimented, her spark fluttering.

“I am aware of that, thank you.” Starscream took a long sip of his drink, still looking at the fembot.

The air felt thicker and a subtle scent of pheromones began to emanate from both bot’s bodies. Starscream and Windblade bridged the gap between them, pressing each other lips together. The kiss was far more gentle than Windblade would have expected from Starscream.

Once they pulled apart, both seemed at a loss for words. They stared into each other’s optics for a few moments before going back in for another tender kiss.

Windblade ended her story there, sparing Rung the more intimate details.

“After we— Ahem, did our thing… we lay in bed for a while and shared a joint. He opened up to me a little bit more.” Windblade fiddled with a loose thread on the arm of her chair. “I think there’s a lot more to him than people think.”

Rung shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his one antennae twitching. “……uh-huh.”

“He mentioned he used to be conjunxed with Megatron. Can you believe that? And they were together for a long time, too. I think that relationship really hurt him…” Windblade looked down at her thighs, the memory of Starscream’s lip paint smeared all over them making her blush. “Rung, I know he’s older than me, but I…”

Rung forced a smile, trying to ignore the voice in his mind saying, “Oh good heavens, please don’t say what I think you are going to say, PLEASE.”

“…I think I have deeper feelings for him. But I’ve never had feelings for someone before, so, I’m not sure what to do next. Especially considering who he is…”

Rung’s optics squinted, still forcing a smile. “Oh my god, what have I done? Bumblebee is going to be crushed!” he thought silently to himself.

“I’m also a bit concerned that he won’t want me. I mean, he obviously finds me attractive, but everyone knows he usually prefers larger mechs over fembots.” Her leg restlessly shook, heel tapping on the metal floor. “He said Megatron used to carry him around on his shoulder. Used to call him his Lucky Star… I think Starscream really misses that kind of affection, but I’m not sure I can give it to him. I’m a lot smaller and weaker than Megs, after all.”

Rung scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t think you should rush into things.” He paused for a moment, rubbing his temples. “But I also don’t think it’s useful comparing yourself to someone’s Ex.”

“Yea… Maybe. I guess I’m just nervous about asking him if we could be conjunx enduras, or at least test the waters for a while and see how things go.”

“D-Don’t you think you may be going too fast?”

“Romantic love is so rare in this universe, Rung. I’m not sure I’d want to risk wasting this chance. Would you?”

Rung leaned back, steepling his fingers in thought. “Windblade, it’s perfectly natural to seek romantic connection, especially after facing so much loss. But I think you need to consider what you’d be getting involved with. Starscream, by his own admission, is a rather complex individual. And you can’t enter a healthy relationship based on trying to fix someone who doesn’t want help.”

Windblade frowned, wings dipping slightly. “I’m not trying to fix him. He just…. He just needs someone who believes in him and has his back. I can see that he’s always scared and tries to hide it. He’s spent most of his life being hated and has gone through so much abuse. Nobody else seems to see what I see in him….

Rung slowly nodded. “That’s not a bad start, but are you even sure HE’S ready for a connection like that? The turbulence of his past relationships is not exactly a secret.”

“Uugh! That’s because he was abused in nearly all of his past relationships! He still has chronic pain from his damaged voice box, for Primus's sake!” Windblade snapped. She lowered her voice. “I’m sorry! Sorry… I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“His voice box is damaged? Well, that sure explains a lot. Should’ve been obvious in hindsight.”

“Rung!”

Rung held up his hands a little. “Apologies! That wasn’t appropriate of me.”

Winblade ex-vented. “Look, I get it. Nobody on this fleet likes him. But you’ve personally seen Drift’s reform, as well as Megatron’s of all people. If a monster like Megatron could be a better person— I think… —Then why couldn’t Starscream?”

“Megatron and Drift WANTED help. That’s the difference. Starscream is an extremely stubborn person who refuses help from anyone who offers it. He’s very well known for this.”

“Well then maybe he just hasn’t met anyone who makes him feel safe enough to trust.”

“Windblade…. You can’t fix someone who doesn’t want to be.”

“But- I want to help him. I… I think I’m in love with him. And because of that, I don’t want him to be in pain anymore. I care about him.”

“GOD DAMN IT,” Rung thought to himself, still trying his best to be professional and supportive. He couldn’t lie to his client, she had a few solid points. If Megatron could learn to cope with his issues, then it theoretically should be possible for someone like Starscream. But Rung personally did not have the slightest bit of confidence when it came to that bot. His stubbornness and arrogance were legendary. Rung had also formally diagnosed the seeker with a laundry list of mental illnesses. Narcissistic Personality Disorder, CPTSD, Bipolar Disorder, and whatever the hell else he didn’t have time to test him for. And Primus almighty, was he a combative patient.

Rung gently set his tea aside and clasped his hands together. “I understand. Love is elusive, and you want to bring out the best in him. You’re a good person, Windblade. But I think you need to be approaching this with caution—“

“THE GOD OF CHAOS IS UPON US!!!!! KNEEL AND PRAY THAT PRIMUS HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SPARKS!!!!”

“Oh no.”

“YOU CANNOT ESCAPE YOUR FATES!!!”

“Um… What is going on outside your office?”

“HIS TEETH WILL GRIND OUR METAL INTO DUST AND HIS EYES WILL BURN THROUGH OUR VERY SPARKS!!!!”

Rung let out a long, exasperated sigh, “Red Alert.”

Red Alert forced the door open again and ran in, startling Windblade and causing her to jump out of her seat, wings fully extended.

“It’s okay Windblade! He’s harmless! He’s just confused!”

First Aid stumbled through the door again, this time followed by Ratchet and Jazz.

Jazz attempted to rationalize with Red Alert, “Come on, man. We’re your friends! You’ve known Ratch and me for vorns!”

“You two have just been playing me for a fool all this time and you know it!”

“Red, you’re sick! Please come back, we’ll help you!” Ratchet said.

Rung tried to step in. “Now Red, I know you’re scared and frustrated right now. Being medicated will take that away.”

“Sure! But then it will just come back? Won’t it?! This is the real me, Rung! And I’m not crazy!”

Rung could see First Aid quietly sneaking up behind Red Alert, small syringe in hand. It was the kind used to inject through the neck or a joint. “You’re right, Red. You aren’t crazy, you’re just unwell.”

“JUST SHUT UP, SHUT UP” Red Alert grabbed the sides of his helmet and screamed, curling over on the floor.

Rung, nor anyone else in that room, had ever seen Red Alert get this bad.

Windblade felt obligated to help settle the frantic mech down. She slowly approached him, “Hey, you’re gonna be okay buddy. Everyone here wants to keep you safe.” She knelt next to him.

Ratchet was quick to warn, “Windblade! I know you’re trying to help, but you need to stay back and let us take care of this!” But he said it too late. The moment Windblade placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, his gut reaction was to strike her in self-defense. She was hit directly in the optic and was knocked out. Rung, Ratchet, and Jazz rushed to her side as First Aid used the distraction as an opportunity to jab his syringe right into Red Alert’s neck. The effect was instant, and he passed out. He was unharmed, only having fallen asleep.

First Aid rolled the unconscious Autobot to his back. “I’m so sorry, friend. I didn’t want to do it.” First Aid’s voice cracked.

Rung’s composed demeanor was thrown out the window, “Oh my God! Oh my God- Windblade! Can you hear me?!” He lightly but firmly shook her by the shoulders.

Windblade’s optics were dim and half-open, the injured one was flickering. A little bit of bright pink blood trickled down from it like a tear.

“Shit!” Jazz yelled, “Ratchet, is she gonna be okay?!”

“Everyone get back!” Ratchet pushed Jazz and Rung aside. He knelt next to Windblade. “Jazz, go get more medics while First Aid takes care of Red!”

Jazz left for the medbay without hesitation.

Ratchet took a look at Rung, who was trembling and hyperventilating. “Rung, you look like you’re about to have a panic attack!”

“I-I am having one!”

“Shit— Just go sit down and try to relax, I need space!”

Rung stepped back, his legs threatening to give out from how much they were shaking.

“She isn’t going grey and I can feel her spark beating. She’s alive.”

While Ratchet was trying to take a closer look at Windblade’s damaged optic, a low groan came from her frame to everyone’s immense relief.

“Oh thank heavens!” Rung exclaimed.

Winblade’s optics fluttered open. “Augh! What just happened?”

“You were knocked out. Take it easy.”

“What happened to Red Alert- OH MY GOD! Am I missing an optic?!” She felt around the side of her face that was hit. “I can’t see out of this one!”

“You’re fine!” Ratchet firmly reassured. “It probably just came a little loose. I’ve seen it happen more times than I can remember.”

Her face and the back of her neck were very sore from the impact. Thankfully, the hit wasn’t strong enough to have likely caused serious injury, and it took a lot more than being knocked out to cause real brain damage in a Transformer.

“Hold still, this is going to hurt like a motherfucker.” Ratchet warned Winblade.

“WAIT WHAT ARE- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!”

Within a second, Ratchet had used his thumb to forcibly push her optic fully back into its socket. He released when he felt the ‘click’ from it setting in.

Rung looked away, nearly losing his tea. “Ratchet! Was it REALLY necessary to do that right here?”

“You couldn’t have at least sedated me first?!” Winbladed added, rubbing her optic.

“Sorry— field medic habit. But can you see now?”

“Ugh…” Winblade’s optic blinked open. “It’s blurry but… Yea, I think l so.”

“That’s normal. You’ll be okay, kid.” Ratchet patted Windblade on the back after she sat up.

Jazz and Knockout came back just in time. Ratchet sent Windblade with them to get an optic patch. She wouldn’t need to stay in the hospital, but the optic still needed to be examined in a less chaotic environment.

Ratchet made sure to check on Rung. “You okay, pal?”Rung was still venting heavily. Ratchet held him by the shoulders and rubbed them. “You’re okay, buddy. You’re okay. I think you should take an early break and get some rest.”

“Yea…” Rung took in a deep vent. “Okay... I’ll do that.”

“Need me to get you anything?”

“Plain liquid energon, please.”

Ratchet luckily had a tube of some in his storage compartment. He gave it to Rung, who thanked him. Ratchet stayed with his fellow doctor till he was finished drinking and calmed down.

Rung took Ratchet’s advice and took an early break. He pressed a button on his terminal, changing the sign on his door to read ‘closed’, and list what time he’d be back.

His tea was cold by now, so he quickly drank the rest of it, not wishing to waste the energon. He turned the radio on— anything to help him shake off the lingering anxiety gripping his chest.

The voice of Rewind, who had been substituting for Blaster ever since Iornhide’s suicide attempt, could be heard on the radio. He was saying something or whatnot. Rung wasn’t paying attention, he just needed the background noise.

He set his alarm for an hour and a half before laying down in his bed to take a much-needed nap. It took him about 30 minutes to go into recharge mode, his mind fixated on what he had just seen. He was only able to relax after resorting to his very limited supply of anxiety medication. It was a small tube of liquid that had to be injected into a port on his wrist. It offered near-instant relief.

When he woke up, he didn’t feel very well-rested but knew he didn’t have time to keep recharging. He had slept through his alarm and only had around 20 minutes left of his break.

He turned to his side, reaching for the datapad on his nightstand. He needed to see who his next client was. When he read the next name on the list, he sat up, grabbed a pillow, and screamed into it.