#don't worry at some point the medics will drag them into the medbay at some point for one reason or another
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transingthoseformers · 2 years ago
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Even after Hazard is bullied into lab safety skills and is dragged into the medbay more than a few times themself, they're always going to be vaguely poisonous. But in the sense of "you should be fine as long as you aren't planning on eating me" levels of toxic.
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callme-adam-iguess · 8 months ago
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Vessel Syndrome|Chapter 1|Ep 3
Smothering
Pyro tapped Scout's shoulder.
"Hm? What's up buddy?"
^are you alright? You seem down.^
"I'm fine Py! Don't worry 'bout me" Pyro could tell Scout was putting on a brave front, they and Sniper talked about before when both noticed that Scout wasn't acting like... Himself.
Pyro pointed to Scout before finger-spelling/finger-signing ^A-R-E N-O-T S-E-E-M-I-N-G F-I-N-E^
"Pyro-" "SCMPHT." Pyro cut him off. They won't let this go on any further. They motioned him to follow before finger Spelling ^P-L-E-A-S-E?^
Scout sighed, he knew that Pyro would drag him over... Where ever they want either way.
And Pyro exactly did that, dragging him to somewhere. Scout let them, having no energy to really protest nor pull away against it.
In the medbay, Medic was listening to each little detail of the odd behavior of the opposite team, told by our dear paranoid Sniper.
"-ooks like it's hard for them to even *breathe*, Medic! It's concerning!"
"Ja... I zaw it az vell.."
"Hell! I can see it's–""Hmmphh!!"
"Oh hello herr Pyro and Scout! Come in come in!"
"Hey Roo and Pyro"
Pyro did some signs to Medic while Sniper observed Scout
"You look worse than normal" ".. Ha ha. Very funny"
"Alright, Herr Scout, Can you take a seat" "Okay..??"
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purple-heart-x · 3 years ago
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A Trade Chapter 9 Part 1
So! I lied, I'm posting this half of chapter 9. I don't think I can rightly call it a sneak peek because there's just so much. The flashback scene is pretty long (and will be continued in Chapter 9 Part 2) sorry!!
Enjoy, and have a good existence til I pop into your dashboard again :)
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Tags: @shydragonrider, @stuck-in-this-mortal-form, @equestrianwritingsstuff
I'm 99% sure I've got everyone? I should probably make an actual list but I've tagged everyone whose ask I saw just now. Please remind me if I've forgotten!
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Medic had waited to make sure Supervillain wouldn’t reawaken in panic within the next few moments. When it became clear that he would sleep for a while longer, he thanked the heroes for their help, asking all but Hero3 to return to their normal duties. As for Hero3, he would stay back as… security. For whenever Supervillain woke up again.
Hero3’s face did not show much emotion. It was key in battle, of course, to not reveal any weaknesses or loss of concentration to enemies. Out of battle, though, it made it that much more complicated to read Hero3’s emotions. 
What made it worse was Medic’s habit of working in silence. So, with the knowledge that Hero3 was with him, he tried to accommodate without losing his place in the process. It only half-worked, though; between lapses of long silences where his mind was too occupied to keep up a conversation, he’d make small talk, dancing around the subject of Supervillain entirely. Hero3 remained sitting quite still, save for his leg furiously bouncing in random bursts of energy. He would respond to Medic’s small talk with a few words, maybe a nod, then let the conversation die. 
Eventually, Hero3 could take it no more. He stood awkwardly as Medic looked up from his supplies. 
“Can I do something? Please?”
It was no abnormal request. Back before, when Villain was still required to stay in the medbay for monitoring, he would wake up during the night, screaming, sure that he was being dragged back to Supervillain. Each time, he lost more and more energy from the panic– and from avoiding sleep itself, too afraid of the dreams and flashbacks to even try.
At first, Medic had tried to stay up with him. He’d find himself some chart to study or medication to stock throughout the night, sometimes passing out before he could even log off of the system. Still, his sleep suffered right along with Villain’s, interrupted not only by the outbursts, but by his own worry that something might happen. 
Hero2 had been the first to notice. He had taken on some of the ordering tasks as practice, trying to automate them based on the previous month’s activity, and those orders ended up stocking the cafeteria and pantry. He was the one who first pointed out to Medic that the energy drink consumption rates were going up. Of course, Hero2 suspected Leader might have been overworking herself and had come to Medic for advice.
Medic, on his part, gave some generic advice and sent Hero2 on his way. From then on, Medic made sure to curb off his energy drinks, opting for more coffee, tea, anything. Then, Hero3 came to Medic when the giant trash trolley’s wheel broke, looking for the screwdriver Medic kept handy to adjust the one broken bed in the far corner that would not adjust without unscrewing each part. The crash had ripped some of the bags, one of them being the medbay general trash (though the medbay’s special trash was in a different container, thank goodness).
Still, Hero3 had cocked an eyebrow at the sea of green and orange cans littering the floor. His eyes, though they were not truly accusing, bored holes in Medic’s conscience as Hero3 spoke. He knelt to help gather up the cans as Hero3 spoke. “Maybe I’m wrong, but this is some kind of concern, isn’t it, Medic? I’ve got a barrel of about this many cans from the last three months, and this time I’m sure I didn’t forget the trash last week.”
Medic nodded hesitantly. “It… Certainly seems like it. Perhaps whoever’s drank these is just having a few all-nighters. I’ll post a notice for Hero2 to monitor this month’s performance, make sure it’s not a lasting issue.”
Hero3 nodded, working in silence until the cans were cleaned up. 
Then he looked up.
“Medic, these aren’t Leader’s. She confirmed, since the last time she tried them, she just crashed straight to sleep,” he said. “Hero2 said he asked you, meaning it wasn’t him. And I know I drink a few, but this could adequately hydrate two full armies.”
Medic couldn’t meet his eyes. After a long pause, he let out a breath. Before he could say anything else, Hero3 spoke again. “I hate to say it, Medic, but you can’t tell me this wasn’t you. You, of all people, touching someone else’s dirty cans without gloves or, at very least, hand sanitizer? Holding them all the way to your chest?”
Internally, Medic cursed Hero3’s incredible ability to read body language. He sighed fully this time, too worn down to argue it. “As I said. I’m sure whoever drank these is just having a few all-nighters,” he said, piling the last can into the trolley. “Don’t worry about it.”
Hero3’s stony expression seemed harsh at his words. “Medic. It’s either I hear what’s going on or Leader does. Your choice.”
A grimace crossed Medic’s face. Despite them being the same age– in fact, Leader was several months older– he still saw her as a younger sister somehow. Having her hear of his latest misstep, gathering not only her attention but her concern, was not an option. She already had too much on her plate, and he would not add to it when he could handle it by himself. Kind of. 
He worked his jaw, staring at the can he had just placed for a long time, before doing something much more difficult than losing more sleep.
“Can we talk on the way?”
And so he followed Hero3 through the base’s basement, telling him about Villain’s fears- his night terrors. How Medic couldn’t leave him so terrified, so he’d been staying up night after night with Villain. 
His mind seemed far, far away as he concluded. “I never thought it would get this bad, you know? It was just making do, but making do turned into… Well…”
They watched in silence as the last can traveled the conveyor belt, into the machine. At a loud beeping, Hero3 sighed and withdrew a key, opening the bottom of the bottle machine to shift the unusually-full contents of the bottle basket until the last can could fit. Pinning the receipt it printed to the bulletin board, his low voice grumbled. “It turned into this.”
It looked much worse, taking up so much space even after being crushed. 
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spell-cleaver · 6 years ago
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I'm sorry for overwhelming you but actually 68. Heroic Sacrifice + 79. Anger born of worry sound *really* good to me too :3 Please don't feel like you have to fill all the prompts, I know I gave you plenty haha ^^
This strayed a bit from the original prompt, because Luke and Vader fluff, but my idea was that the “Heroic Sacrifice” was what happened at the end of ROTJ (what Luke did and what Vader did), only Luke was knocked unconscious by the lightning and now he’s waking up to talk to Vader. (And thank you so much for sending me all these prompts, they’re great :D)
Prompts from this post.
Consciousnessreturned in small bursts. Luke heard the Emperor’s cackle over and over;sometimes the agony of the lightning would shoot through him and he wouldspasm, a pressure constricting around his left hand. Then it would vanish, aswould the flashing behind his eyes, and he’d settle back down into blissfuldarkness.
Thepressure around his hand remained, though. It was always there, squeezing hishand—his flesh hand—tightly wheneverhe seemed at risk of just… drifting, further into the abyss, from where hemight never return.
For atime, immediately after he’d watched Palpatine throw that lightning at him andhe’d embraced this dark place, he’d drifted everywhere and anywhere. He’d beenon the brink of never returning, but then the pressure had come, and it was atether. It was an anchor, reeling him back to shore.
He was gettingcloser now. The bursts were no longer of pain and suffering and the madlaughter of a despot who thought he’d won. Now he saw different things, morefamiliar things: the scuffed, worn-out medbay on Home One; Wedge and his squadron’s faces, worried but elated thatthey’d won; Leia’s glare softening to tenderness as she looked away towards amedical bed, which was occupied by…
…him.
It wasodd, seeing himself through another’s eyes, but the image was gone in an flash.
It waseven odder that everything was tinged in red.
Notanymore. Now everything was inconsideratelywhite. It stabbed at his eyes as he opened them, tearing a groan from histhroat before he thought about it.
There wasa gasp, the pressure around his hand constricted almost painfully, and Lukesqueezed back.
He openedhis eyes fully.
Sureenough, it was the medbay from those visions, only now he saw it in the usualspectrum he was familiar with.
He trekkedhis gaze across it, the light stinging less with every movement. It seemed tobe empty, and when he turned to his left he saw why.
His fathersat next to him, his left hand clenched around Luke's—and only his left hand. Luke glanced down, and tried to ignore the stabof guilt that came when he noticed the wires still emerging from his father’sright wrist.
“Father?”he asked—or, at least, tried to ask. Theword stuck in his throat, and he was still drowsy.
“Luke,”Vader breathed.
“What—”He shook his head. Past and present were merging together in his mind, likesome complex Force vision that left the viewer mad. Lightning crackled beforehis eyes, laughter rang in his ears, but he could hear the silence of themedbay just as keenly. “What happened?”
“Youdecided to throw away your lightsaber,” his father said. “Why did you throw away yourlightsaber?”
Lukegrimaced. He remembered now. “It was to make a point.”
“Wasthat point worth your life?”There was anger in the word, but it felt… impotent. It splashed againstLuke’s shields like a wave against a dam, but it was no longer the tsunami Lukehad come to associate with his father.
So Lukenodded. “Yes.”
Vader’svocoder spat out somehow that sounded like a sigh. “Of course it is,”he muttered. “You nearly died,Luke.”
“Yeah,about that.” He frowned, trying to sit up. “Not that I'm—” Hewinced as pain shot through him; his father pushed him back down. “Notthat I’m not glad, but why didn’tI?”
“Ikilled Palpatine.”
Lukeblinked. “You did what?”
His fathershifted subtly in the seat—a difficult gesture for such a large man to pulloff, but he made it work—and said, almost defensively,“Just because you were not using your lightsaber, that did not mean I hadto abide by the same principle.”
“Imeant—” Luke shook his head. His father knew exactly what he’d meant, andif he didn’t want to admit to why he’d done it, Luke could settle for beingcontent with the fact he’d done it at all.
He’d knownthere was still good in him.
But hisfather kept surprising him anyway.
“Youare my son,” Vader said. “If I have to choose between your life andPalpatine’s, I will always choose yours.”
He said itso… matter-of-factly… that Lukewas left speechless for a moment. It wasn’t matter-of-fact. Luke knew exactlyhow much thought and soul-searching and decision-makingthose minutes would have meant for Vader. But his father had chosen him.
AbovePalpatine. Above the Empire. He’d chosen him, and he’d dragged him back to theRebellion he hated just to make sure he lived.
His fatherhad chosen him.
Therevelation hit him like a speeder. It slammed into him, shoving tears down hischeeks and tremors into his hands, and he squeezed his father’s hand like hislife depended on it.
“. ..Luke?”
Vadersounded concerned, if the vocoder could interpret such an emotion.
Luke justshook his head, and the tears kept coming. He kicked back the covers and flunghimself at his father, almost knocking himself out on his chest plate. The handlet go of his, but it was worth it, because then the hand was resting on hisback, holding him steady, and his father was hugging him.
Luke weptfurther.
In hismind, there was nothing but the elation of the little boy inside him, who’dspent years staring at the thousands of stars sprawled across the sky andwished. Who’d dreamed and dreamed, of a pilot father, lost in space.
Lost inthe darkness.
A fatherwho would come back for him soon enough.
Aunt Beruhad hinted, sadly, that his daydreams might not be wholly accurate; Uncle Owenhad told him the same thing in far less uncertain terms. But they’d been wrong.
Becausehere he was.
He had come back for him.
So Lukesmiled as he cried, and felt his father hug him tighter in response.
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