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in1-nutshell · 9 months ago

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The opposite personality buddy’s are amazing and that leads me to wonder if you could do Ultra Magnus with a sparkling buddy who has a opposite personality as him? Like him dealing with his sparkling looking up to wheeljack a lot and having a slight crush in him, buddy did arrive on earth with Magnus.

YEEEEE! I love making these Buddy's! Should I do more for the future?

Also Buddy is going to have more of an Uncle/niece relationship than a romantic one.

Hope you enjoy!

Ultra Magnus daughter with the opposite personality

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Magnus first met Buddy as a sparkling.

She was so tiny back then.

He had been walking back to his home after a long day with Optimus Prime

With a war looming over everyone’s helm their talks and teachings were becoming more and more frequent.

Today though, he found a rather large box in front of his door.

Magnus inching cautiously toward the box.

He carefully opens the lid.

A small sparkling looks at him.

“A sparkling?”--Magnus

The sparkling starts crying.

“Wait no! don’t cry!”--Magnus

Magnus quickly grabs the sparkling trying to calm them down.

The sparkling immediately stops crying and places her servos on his faceplate.

“So that’s you started crying, little one?”--Magnus

Sparkling giggles and just pats him face.

“No…do not make that face. You are going to go to the sparkling unit—”--Magnus

The sparkling yawns and cuddles close to his spark and falsl dead asleep.

“…Great…What would Optimus do?”--Magnus

“Keep her.”--Optimus

Magnus jumps at the sound of his mentor’s voice.

“Sir!? What are you doing here?”--Magnus

“You forgot your data pad. And it looks like you’ve met someone new. Does she have a name?”--Optimus

“…I am not sure—”--Magnus

Both mechs notice a small data pad in the box

It says Buddy.

“I believe that is their designation. Buddy?”--Magnus

The sparkling churns a bit cuddling closer.

It was definitely a big adjustment for Magnus, but he did his best to set aside time for the sparkling throughout the day and at night.

Especially when finding out that this sparkling was rather energetic and had a bad habit of sneaking off.

Magnus is trying to find Buddy in his office.

Ratchet walks in with Optimus.

“Ultra Magnus?”—Optimus

Magnus is still turning over office supplies and chairs.

“Optimus, Ratchet… it’s been 2 hours, 45 minutes, 35 seconds and 52 nano clicks! I can’t find Buddy!”--Magnus

“Umm…”—Rachet

“She should be in this room. It was locked and…and…”--Magnus

“Magnus—”--Ratchet

“Wait! The Wrecker’s might know where she could be hiding. Thank you both for the help.”--Magnus

Magnus begins to walk out of the room.

Optimus and Ratchet watch Buddy cling onto Magnus shoulders while waving good-bye.

“…”--Optimus

“…Should we tell him?”--Ratchet

“…Not now.”--Optimus

Soon enough the war had finally broken out.

Now a new set of obstacles presented themselves.

Babysitting.

He had much more work to do with being Prime’s lieutenant.

And someone needed to keep tabs on his rather energetic sparkling running around everything.

She was too tiny and kept on hiding in places she knew she should not have been hiding.

Magnus talked with Ratchet about Buddy’s growth.

She should have been much bigger by this age, but she was still too small.

“This is something natural Magnus.”--Ratchet

Magnus trying to keep Buddy to sit still.

“It is?”--Magnus

“In all, she is just going to be growing slower or if my theory is correct, she should have an immediate growth spurt soon.”--Ratchet

“How big do you think she will get?”--Magnus

“I am not entirely sure Magnus. At least average height, if anything else, she could be a minibot.”--Ratchet

“Hmm.”--Magnus

“Magnus.”--Ratchet

“Ratchet?”--Magnus

“Where’s Buddy?”--Ratchet

Buddy is no longer sitting on the med slab.

“…”—Magnus and Ratchet

Concern truck and siren noises intensify.

As for babysitters, Prime had offered to look after Buddy many times for Magnus. Which he didn’t mind too much as he trusted the Prime, despite being a bit embarrassed. Buddy was a completely different baby when she was around Prime.

A lot quieter.

She kept him on his pedes every now and then, trying to run and jump off of everywhere.

Ratchet was another babysitter for Buddy.

She made sure the medical cabinets were locked with three locks.

She always figures out the locks with sweets or shiny tools.

She was still tiny and could hide in some of the best places.

This was all while the sparkling could crawl.

She had just learned how to properly walk by herself when Magnus became in charge of the Wrecker’s.

Buddy was now a little menace on two pedes with wheels.

Nothing was stopping her and her energetic moods.

Many Wreckers found themselves looking after the little one during more peaceful moments while Magnus was away.

Magnus walks into the room to find the wreckers tossing Buddy in the air like a ball.

Magnus nearly has a spark attack.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”--Magnus

“We didn’t have a ball for lobbing so we’re using Buddy. She seems to like it.”--Wheeljack

Buddy giggling as she is tossed in the air again.

“Again! Again!”--Buddy

“No, not again!”--Magnus

Buddy looks at Wheeljack.

“Uncle Jackie?”—Buddy

“Uncle Jackie?”--Magnus

Wheeljack smirks and tosses Buddy high.

“WHEELJACK NO!”--Magnus

“WHEELJACK YES!”—Wheeljack

“JACKIE YES!”--Buddy

There was one bot in the entire squad he wished Buddy hadn’t formed an attachment with…

Wheeljack.

Wheeljack had the chaotic energy that nearly matched Buddy’s.

Those two were almost always seen together when there were no fights for the day.

Buddy always wanted to go with Uncle Jackie.

Wheeljack was definitely an instigator and encouraged many of Buddy’s little gremlin habits.

Magnus walking in on Wheeljack giving Buddy a dagger.

“What are you doing!?”--Magnus

“Giving her a dagger?”

Magnus grabs the dagger from her servos despite her whines.

“She shouldn’t have this yet.”--Magnus

“All right, all right.”--Wheeljack

Loud yelling gets Magnus’s attention and moves out.

Wheeljack snickered and looked over at Buddy, who had a cheeky little grin.

She pulls out a small blaster from one of her subspaces.

“Now kid, what do we do with blaster?”--Wheeljack

“We, umm, don’t point them at nice bots faces.”--Buddy

“And?”--Wheeljack

“We shoot Con’s kneecaps off?”--Buddy

“And?”--Wheeljack

“If Father finds out, I found it on the floor while I was left unsupervised?”--Buddy

Wheeljack pats Buddy on the helm with a wide smile.

“Yep! Just like that.”--Wheljack

Buddy hugs Wheeljack’s pede.

“Thank you, Uncle Jackie!”

Wheeljack just pats her helm affectionately.

“Anytime kiddo. Anytime.”--Wheeljack

Wheeljack left one night and never came back to the Wrecker unit.

Buddy thought that something bad had happened to him.

She wasn’t convinced that he would just leave her like that.

Uncle Jackie wouldn’t do that.

…right?

A week later she decided to go look for him.

Wheeljack always said to never leave your friends behind, well, she wasn’t going to leave him behind.

She boarded a ship in the middle of the night and tried getting close to the controls when a loud bomb sound shook the ground making her fall into an empty crate.

A bomb had hit the Wrecker’s base.

Magnus was scrambling trying to get everyone out of the fiery inferno.

He quickly realized the direction where the bomb had detonated.

The area where the bomb had been set off was around her sleeping quarters.

There was nothing but rubble and melted metal.

No one could have survived that blast…

A couple of Wrecker’s managed to get him on the ship before they left for another.

He flew away from Cybertron on that ship.

He started to cry when he was far enough from orbit.

Most of his team had dispersed and now Buddy…Buddy was…

He set the ship on autopilot and let out a gut-wrenching sob.

Some boxes move near the cargo hold.

Magnus stops his sobs and looks at the box that was moving around.

The box opens up with Buddy kicking the lid off, climbing out of the box and laying on the floor.

“Buddy…?”--Magnus

Buddy looks at Magnus.

“Hi! Sorry I woke you up. I got caught inside the box—”--Buddy

Magnus jumps to his pedes and slides across the floor and hugs Buddy like his life depended on it.

“…Father? What happened?”--Buddy

That was the first time Buddy had seen her father sob so hard as he hugged her tight.

They spent the rest of that night in each other’s arms sobbing for their ruined home and out of relief they were okay for now.

Buddy’s growth spurt happened while they were looking for any other Autobots in space.

And it hit fast.

One deca cycle she was around the height of his knee.

The next thing he knew she was now taller and bulkier than him.

She was still so young too…

“How is this even possible?!”--Buddy

“I do not know.”--Magnus

“I don’t want to keep getting bigger!”--Buddy

“That is something we cannot control.”--Magnus

“Yeah, I think I can tell…”--Buddy

When they received the signal from Earth, they followed it.

Arcee was happy to see Magnus again but didn’t recognize the larger bot next to him.

“Ultra Magnus sir.”--Arcee

“At ease soldier.”--Magnus

Arcee looks over at the taller bot who is just waving.

“Hi Arcee!”--Buddy

“Hi…?”--Arcee

Magnus looks at Buddy who just looks at his back before turning to Arcee.

“You probably don’t remember me after all these years. I’m Buddy.”--Buddy

Arcee’s optics widen a lot.

“Buddy?! But how?!”--Arcee

Buddy chuckles a bit.

“I guess I finally grew up, didn’t I?”--Buddy

“What’s going on?”--Jack

Buddy and Magnus look at Jack.

“Is this one of the native life forms of this planet?”--Buddy

Buddy moves towards Jack, kneels down and gently pats his head.

“So small…”--Buddy

“Seriously what’s happening?”—Jack

After Team Prime finally has their reunion.

Buddy waving at Ratchet.

“Hi Ratchet!”--Buddy

Ratchet looks like he is about to have a stroke.

“Buddy?!”--Ratchet

Magnus gives him a look of ‘I-know-you-said-she-was-going-to-grow-but-I-didn’t-think-she-was-going-to-be-this-big!’

Ratchet looks back at him with ‘How-was-I-supposed-to-know-her-size?’

Buddy waves at Optimus who is roughly around the same height as her.

“Hi Optimus!”--Buddy

“… Hello Buddy.”--Optimus

Buddy smiles.

Optimus gives both Magnus and Ratchet a look saying ‘Primus-she-was-the-size-of-my-servo-when-I-last-saw-her!’

Both look at him with a ‘I-know!’ look.

Buddy was excited to meet other bots around her age.

Bee and Smokescreen have now become big brothers.

Well, older brothers…

Buddy likes to tease them a bit on size, but in a good-natured way.

She knows how hard life was being too small to do anything.

Buddy is very excited to meet Bulkhead, knowing stories from Wheeljack.

Bulkhead is just happy Jackie had someone that ‘looked’ after him too.

Buddy reminds Bulkhead too much like Wheeljack which still confuses him.

How could Buddy, who was clearly Wrecker material have such a strict rule based father like Ultra Magnus?

When the kids found out about Buddy they were just happy to meet a new member of the team.

“Buddy these are the kids. You’ve already met Jack.”--Bulkhead

Buddy waves back at Jack.

“This is Miko.”--Bulkhead

Miko gives Buddy a peace sign.

Buddy mimics the movement back.

“And this is Raf.”--Bulkhead

Raf waving shyly at Buddy.

Buddy just smiles and waves back.

“You’re really big.”--Raf

“I know! But I didn’t start out this way. I was tiny before.”--Buddy

“How tiny?”--Raf

Buddy points at Arcee.

“Smaller than Arcee. Like half.”--Buddy

“How!? What kind of juice did you drink!”--Miko

“What’s juice?”--Buddy

The kids are very confused about why so many of the bots were slightly babying Buddy.

It takes a while for them to get the idea that Buddy is the youngest member now.

Magnus is glad to see Buddy get to know the team.

He isn’t too excited when her louder side shows up more.

But he loves his daughter, so it isn’t all too bad.

When Buddy gets told that Wheeljack is on Earth, she is angry.

Her angry came at two ways.

It could be acting exactly like her father.

Or two, her personal favorite.

Judo flipping the mech.

That’s what she did the second she saw the white mech.

Buddy clenching her servos and glaring at Wheeljack as he greets everyone.

He walks up to Buddy.

“And who might you be? Don’t tell me—”--Wheeljack

Buddy swiftly grabs Wheeljack and flips him onto his back with a loud bang!

Buddy has a pede on his chassis.

“What did I do to you! Have to hand it to you, the flip was clean—”--Wheeljack

“You have broken rule 17 section 4.5 sub point A, Wheeljack.”--Buddy

“Great she is another Magnus.”--Wheeljack

“Umm… Wheeljack… That’s Buddy.”--Bulkhead

“Yeah right! Buddy is smaller than Arcee—”--Wheeljack

Buddy leans in a bit closer with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Hi Uncle Jackie.”--Buddy

Wheeljack’s optics widen.

“HOW!”--Wheeljack

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader #tfp ultra magnus

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cjgladback · 3 months ago

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And that's a wrap! On the first 100 grams of this oyster-colored Wool of the Andes roving. I'm very happy as my yarn quality and understanding continue improving; definitely getting to those consistent thin yarns I wanted. The green skein is absolutely the favored child, but I swear it is actually better than everything else, not just green. Which gives me some hope for all the wool I intend to card, actually.

My rambles got extra long, as were the image descriptions, so please enjoy this cut:

I wanted to test blending fibers with the same staple length before I get into more complicated things with the fiber festival fleeces (I am still slowly accumulating what I need to wash and dry them) and was honestly a little worried about how disorganized and snaggy it felt to card and draft, both. But my oh my that squishy, soft, wonderful yarn. I'm gonna keep trying to emulate it, though I still love the organization of just spinning nice long semi-compact roving. Versus even once I get a diz aka drill a hole in my designated piece of curved laminated cardboard, I expect carded sliver to be loose and fall apart if I do things like wrap it around my wrist as a proto-distaff. For the green yarn, I tried making kinda loose sideways rolags that I both compacted and drafted the tiniest bit so they could be wrapped into nests.

So! Mayhaps I should try carding something that isn't already organized. Like the little bit of very lanolin-laden wool that was packed with the e-spinner (EEW Nano, original flavor) I recently acquired from a thrift store. And maybe I won't want to wash all the lanolin out and lose the learning experience if I also blend it with other, clean fiber. Perhaps if I cannibalize the first skein here...? Good thing I never fulled it after all!

The above is not actually the train of thought that lead me to wanting to combine those two; I'm just realizing that there are basically no projects that I want to do that would actually use that yarn as is, and I'm already planning my limit of small and patchwork projects for other things. One is that I'm planning to put together all of these oyster skeins into maybe a hat? to commemorate my improving spinning skills, maybe with lace for the underplied and color work for the green, and I already have my actual first spin in a scarf so I don't feel too beholden to preserve this. I really like textured knitting that needs even, solid or slow-transition, thin yarn, whereas this wild and lumpy almost-twenty-feet would maybe work for someone who did tapestries? But that is not me. And I think if I calm down and maybe tweed up the bright colors I'll enjoy them more, as well. So. These may be the last photos of the yarn in its current state.

Whether that's my next project or if I try to get some mileage on the Nano with the next bundle of oyster, I'm not sure. I'm already missing my fidget activity after just a couple days of washing and drying the last skein, but I also wanted to design some bookmarks with the clearance yarn I got at the same time as the roving. So if I can get a prototype pattern laid out so it's not as much ongoing brain power, that might fit the bill.

[ID: Three images of various small hanks and balls of yarn laying on a wood table with notes digitally hand-written in light purple around them.

The first photo shows all eight of the skeins in the order they were spun, all but two a light cream color. The first is a chunky, uneven skein spun from a bright purple, pink, and orange gradient, labeled "chain ply" and 6.6 yards. Next is a cream center-pull ball that is 36.25 yards, and next to it a smaller, more even center-pull ball of 22.5 yards, perhaps 21 wraps per inch. Next is a forest green skein, labeled "hand carded," 49 yards, balanced and soft! Next are two cream skeins that were "underplied and broke," 116 plus 33 yards, 30 wraps per inch. The penultimate skein is longer than the rest (having been wound around more than one chair back) and 158.25 yards. The final skein is labeled "intentionally thicker to pair with green," and 99.75 yards.

The second photo compares the green and final skeins, with winding notes starting with a cloud of hearts by the green. It is a "50/50 blend of Oyster and Aurora roving colors on handcarders," and "took no notes so of course it's balanced, soft, and sturdy." Its cream counterpart has a smoother surface, more even thickness, and is slightly more tightly plied, with the note "didn't card but made an effort to match on ply back tests -- decent weight, almost balanced, not soft" (flat-mouthed face).

The third image compares the first and last skeins, the first labeled as 23 grams of gifted cheviot or shropshire, chain plied from ball with core, for a total of 6.6 yards. The latest is 24 grams of clearance peruvian highland, plied via book-wrapped bracelet into a two-strand ball, totalling 99.75 yards. End ID]

#cj gladback #spinning #fiber art #ramblings

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thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai · 1 year ago

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Writing in spite of everything

I had planned to post a writing update earlier, but over the weekend, I had several days in a row where I couldn't focus and only squeezed out a few messy scenes and ended up feeling miserable.

Granted, the lack of focus resulted from factors I could hardly influence like my last day of work before two weeks of holidays and watching a nail-biting figure skating competition (Cup of China 2023) that tore a hole of several hours into my writing schedule as I had to watch the events while they happened. Not to mention the hours afterwards until I had calmed down and could at least try to write again.

On those 3 days, I wrote in total about as much as I would write on a day of complete hyperfocus. We are talking about word counts, which for most writers would be like a lot. For me, if I have the whole day for writing those numbers are a sign of abysmal focus, which means that writing turns into an ordeal. I'm the kind of person who can go into hyperfocus and see the scene I'm writing in its entirety and live inside the characters, the next scenes and the whole grander scheme of things and go crazy with it. On such days, I can write 10k+ and feel refreshed, elated, and as if I've just woken from a dream when it's over. It's THE writing experience for me.

At least it was until a few years ago. Changes in my day job, social media, and the almost always present weltschmerz of this world having turned into a dumpster fire of hatred and ignorance have destroyed that ability for me. Ironically, in these times, I need to be able to focus like that more than ever in order to stay mentally healthy. Staying focused at a moderate level is already a battle I don't tire to engage in, hoping to eventually experience hyperfocus again (the good news for neurodivergent folks is: you can relearn it!).

It's less the lower word count but the lack of focus that messes with me and bothers me so much. On days where I write only a fraction of what I can create in hyperfocus, my brain is a fragmented mess and my texts have poor characterisation, poor prose, no details or context, and lots of redundant dialogue. Or in other words: it's a mess and I end up being frustrated because I couldn't tap that well inside me that releases that which makes the magic happen.

This NaNoWriMo, my main goal was to regain that focus to somewhat degree. Although setbacks are to be expected, they upset me as they pull me back to a place where I mentally don't want to be. And even worse, in those situations, I'm more vulnerable and more aware of my weaknesses as a writer. So, it's no surprise I started feeling again that my writing is inferior trash that people forget once they're done reading if they are reading it at all (I'm not talking about drafts but completed and fully revised stories). I am keenly aware that I'm not the kind of writer whose writing is well-loved because my stories lack a certain indefinable something I was never able to figure out. (I'm not even sure of that as I have only one completed story on AO3 and it's not the one I love most and I still haven't processed the fact that it was the first that made readers stay until the end whereas for my two most loved stories readers dwindled away or stayed away completely) And as I wrote before in a different post, this creates a feeling of isolation as I connect with other people through my stories which are written with love. In addition to that I had to read another take that made me feel invalidated as the kind of writer that I am, and voilà--the shit hit the fan.

The last two days went better and I'm feeling a bit more confident now, although far from great. This NaNo feels different from all the NaNos I did before and I believe that this plays an additional role. For now, I will continue writing and removing sources that distract me and train my brain to stay focused on one thing for a longer period of time again, and see if this will improve things.

#jen's mind vomit

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lemmilemura · 2 years ago

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could you write simon with a streamer/ esports champion s/o ?? like imagine them on vc and playing stuff together

Thank you so much for the request anon! I can definitely write some Simon and streamer S/O! Really playing into my own love of gaming xD

All kept gender-neutral Based on the show

So we already see Simon's killer setup in the show, right? 3 monitors (one vertical, probably discord xD) a headset, probably has a mic there somewhere too. So of course, if you're also similar, you two will be gaming together.

And if you're streaming even better!

Simon would 100% be a guest on your streams more often than not. Personally don't think he himself would stream, but he loves joining you.

Your fanbase loves him too! His sassy one-liners especially. You don't even have to tell them he's with you, they'll pick up on it instantly, be that by hearing him or just seeing you face, smiling or facepalming at him(if you have facecam of course).

Of course there's a lot of different games you two play. I'm gonna give examples of games I personally play but I'm sure you'd play even more of them.

Minecraft, for example. I feel Simon would be the redstone genius, I mean come on! You'll have automated sorting, farming, mobfarms, etc before the first nightfall it feels xD

He would also probably be the one pulling off crazy 'cheats', aka tactics to kill mobs and basically speedruns the enderdragon xD

Overwatch, or other fps games, could either be him carrying you, or you carrying him. Really just depends on the day.

I personally either play tank or dps (Rammattra or Junkrat), but I feel Simon would be pretty well-versed in all roles. I can see him being a Widow just to piss off people by being extremely good.

I can also see him, if he's support, being Ana and only using his nano boost on you, much to the dislike of your teammates. But I mean c'mon, you're his S/O and he's a little gremlin who likes to piss people off xD

Genshin anyone? (not the toxic weird ones, though. those can stay away please and thank you :))

He'd probably be at AR 60 waaaay before you, so I can see you starting Genshin on stream and him basically baby-ing you and telling you what to do until you get AR16 and unlock co-op, and then he'll help you unlock and explore the entire world in like a day.

He would also help you beat bosses, and farm artefacts. You barely have to move a muscle at all really, he's already done with it.

He'll have all the characters too (if by gacha nobody knows, I mean it's Simon). He'll also send you so many primos and basically pay for all of your characters and things you want. (cough sugardaddy cough)

Of course, streamers don't just play games. Or like, games like that where you have to do a lot of fighting.

ItTakesTwo is always a ride, no matter who plays it. So of course, when you two play it, whoooo boooooy things go down xD

Simon will try his best to keep calm and be patient, but after like 10 minutes on one puzzle of course he'll get a little agitated

If you then respond back with the exact same energy... hope nobody is wearing headphones because it can get kind of explosive, but hey it's ItTakesTwo, so what do you expect?

Of course, on days where you don't realyl fee llike it, Just Chatting streams are perfect. Just hagning out, with chat of course, doing whatever. Working on your own things but also answering questions or something. They don't happen that often, I'd say maybe only once a month or so. Chill music in the back, chat themselves a little slower.

Alright I hope you enjoyed those! Again thank you so much for the request! Feel free to request more, I'll try my best to write them if I am able to :D

#headcanon #oouil #oouil tv show #one of us is lying #simon kelleher

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lucysarah-c · 2 years ago

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Oh darling don't worry about rambling. I think readers enjoy knowing more about a writer.

The whole procedure sounds exhausting. Wishing you the best of luck in that. And I hope everything goes smoothly for you.

However, I am curious as to why you decided to do a PhD. degree? I am assuming you really like research, I am curious to know why people apply for it. I have been taught that isn't really necessary to pursue, I am not trying to dissuade you, I just want to know your point of view, and I find that interesting.

I haven't had the chance to visit Germany. It is a great country to settle in, If that what you are planning for. I heard a nightmare about their paperwork. God be with you. Will you be taking classes in german or will it be in English? Do you need an English test certification for it?

Also, it is so lovely of you to think of your mom. She is lucky to have a daughter like you.

I hope that you mind me sending you an abnormal amount of questions 😄

when you answer, your Tumblr asks or writes your posts. Do you do it from a pc or from your phone? I found out that I can't send long paragraphs from my pc unless I do it on my phone. I was wondering if it is the same case for you.

I’m not sure what my readers enjoy to be honest hahaha But if you're my reader and want to know more about my personal life haha I don't mind it.

Thank you! I hope everything turns out smoothly too.

About the PhD, I think it really depends not only on the field you're in but also your prospects. For example, I studied Biotechnology and molecular biology, but in my last years of the degree I dedicated myself to nanobiotechnology for oncological treatments. When I joined the nanotechnology team, nano was something that nobody really cared about and therefore it was a really small side of biotechnology compared to other well known parts of it. Once the pandemic hit, the health science field began to have a boom and Nanotechnology was a field that was only being explored for arms industry and cosmetics. Now nanotechnology is being explored in the health industry a lot and, since I'm kinda part of the "teams who were pioneers on it" I've the chances to work and study a field that doesn't have that much "competition" yet but also its "highly demanded". Plus, someone has to do them, you know haha Someone has to investigate the improvements of new treatments. The PhD is the only option for me if I want to keep going with my studies. Like, yeah I could work in the industry without a master or phd and make way more money than the scholarship I'll get. Sorry, long story short, I want to investigate the probabilities of curing Cancer with nanotechnology. This is way too new so they need people to research about it for it to one day be a treatment available for people.

I have also heard that Germans aren't good with paperwork lmao. It seems to be a thing. I visited Germany when I traveled a few years ago. It's a really calm and lovely place. The master is in English and yes I need an English certificate that I already own. Your girl is a C2 or proficient in English like Excuse me lmao jk I don't feel like I'm proficiency at all but the IELTS exam says otherwise lol.

I'm learning German! I'm actually in the middle of my A2 to B1 classes so, careful I know how to say my name lmao. I feel it's a really "boxy" language but a friend of mine, who speaks German said "but Lucy, you speak Spanish as your first language, it's like you speak in cursive. Obviously it feels less "literature '' '' that actually boosted my self esteem lol I've never thought Spanish as a "lovely" language but I guess it is!

I don't mind the questions if you don't mind that I take a while to reply haha

Eh... I've no idea, because I've not send asks is a long while hahah I basically log in to Tumblr to post and I leave because I've like -10 time in my life at the moment. But I mostly post from my computer because the phone app doesn't let me select more than one paragraph at a time and editing is a mess.

But, for example, the tumblr computer web doesn't alert me when I've overpass the 30 tags limit and the phone does. It's weird, tumblr is a mess.

Have a lovely day!

#about me

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shadowsong26fic · 1 year ago

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Coming Attractions!

It is still technically the first Monday of the month in my timezone, so I'm not late XD

As always, this also means an Open Question Night--my askbox is always open, but tonight I'll be keeping an eye on it. Questions about anything I've posted about here or on AO3 are fair game; my current primary fandoms/heaviest brainrots are BSG, Les Mis, and Star Wars. I do take prompts, but no promises on how quickly I'll fill them.

So not a whole lot to say this month. Work got super busy last month so I didn't get as much done as I'd hoped, alas. This month is NaNo, and while I'm not doing an Official Project, I am shooting for 50k words in total on any projects.

Priorities are:

Catching up on the Year of the OTP backlog. I still have to do July for SW and BSG, and every month since for all five. ...also I don't think I crossposted the origfic stuff for July yet, whoops...I should do that.

P&J

Acheron

Getting a head start on SWBB

TOB

Keeping up with RF anniversary challenges (though that might overlap with the OTP meme fills for the original stuff, to be fair)

...so, yeah, that's the plan for this month. Although writing other things will also count, of course, it's any fiction (original or fanfic) I get down.

I do still have various other projects floating around (Precipice; miscellaneous crossovers; maybe some of the AtLA things I keep meaning to actually write down...) but those six are the Priorities for this month. And hopefully putting out a cumulative 50k words. I am. Already behind on that goal, lol, but. Maybe I'll get into a groove? That's the goal anyway.

I'm also doing some podfic/recording for GBB over this month! As well as some betaing and some mod stuff. Like assigning pinch-hitters if needed, setting up the collection for people to post (which is not a thing I've ever done before, lol, but it shouldn't be too hard?) And also starting to put together a post-event poll/survey/whatever to see if people are interested in playing again next year, and maybe ways I can improve the event. Because I'd like to keep this going, I love big bangs and I want more in this fandom (and...like I am Excited for All of the things coming out of this event; the bits I've seen look Excellent and it's my event and so of course I'm proud...but I'd also like to see a more diverse collection of focuses/ships in future years, maybe XD)

SWBB modding is going to start up, but I have told the rest of that team that I'll be able to pitch in more after GBB wraps up. But yeah, I always enjoy that event and the mod team there is a good group of people, so, should be fun! And hopefully I will get my act together to participate as a writer this year since that didn't pan out last year.

...yep, I think that's what I've got in store for this month! Work should be calming down, so I can get busy on these other things.

What about you guys, what have you been working on lately? Any NaNo plans?

#miscellania #coming attractions #open question night

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nanowrimo · 3 years ago

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Why Novlr is the Perfect NaNoWriMo Writing Companion

Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Novlr, a 2021 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is the smart writers’ choice for novel writing software. Today, writer, editor, researcher, and professional historian Pamela Koehne-Drube shares why she uses Novlr as her writing platform:

Writing is a deeply personal experience, but every year, during NaNoWriMo, it’s the sense of community that brings us all together. Knowing that other writers all over the world are committing to get a head start on their novels is an amazing feeling, and setting goals and targets every day for a month is just the push that so many of us need to finally get words on a page.

National Novel Writing Month is a huge part of Novlr’s history. The idea for it was born when Thomas, one of Novlr’s founders, participated in NaNoWriMo and realized that there just wasn’t a novel-writing software out there that truly catered to novelists. With a lack of appropriate options available, the only thing left to do was to create one, and thus, Novlr was born.

There is no better way to experience NaNoWriMo than through Novlr—it really is the perfect writing companion. As a NaNo participant since 2014, I’ve had the chance to participate for a few years now with Novlr, and it’s got me over the finish line on more than one occasion. Having the right space to write really does make such a difference.

Novlr allows me to set my goals year-round and logs my writing streaks.

One of the biggest barriers I’ve had to my writing is goal setting and goal tracking. It’s one of the reasons I was drawn to NaNoWriMo in the first place. Forcing myself to dedicate time to writing around a busy schedule helped my productivity. I tried so many options for my first few NaNo years, but I found that other options were either a) uninspiring, or b) so complicated that I spent more time actually using the software than doing any writing. I needed something that was distraction-free but also pushed me to get words on the page.

What first struck me about Novlr was its minimalist aesthetic and professional design. It is simple, easy to use, and yet deceptively powerful. No matter how cluttered my physical space gets, Novlr is always there, clean and stress-free, ready to come with me wherever I need it.

The app itself is browser-based, meaning no matter where I am, or on what device, I’ll always have an up-to-date version of my work accessible to me any time—even on my phone. It means that when inspiration strikes, I can have my novel up and running, ready to go in a matter of seconds with cloud saving, backups, and versioning so I can be sure I’ll never accidentally overwrite something. It also means that I can switch up my workspace and go wherever I feel inspired—it’s like a pool of portable calm. I can be in the right space for writing both mentally and physically, and there’s nothing more than a writer could hope for.

Let’s not beat around the bush—writing 1667 words a day is HARD! Because of that, having the best tools at your disposal is absolutely invaluable. There are loads of Novlr features that make it the right tool for the job. Distraction-free writing and goal tracking are just the tip of the iceberg.

If I’m short on inspiration, the Tim Clare Couch to 80k writing course is integrated directly into the platform. If I need to kickstart my creativity, a writing prompt or character exploration is never more than a click away. In fact, for 2019’s NaNoWriMo I didn’t have a project, so I set myself the goal of coming up with a new novel idea over the course of the month using Tim Clare’s course. I absolutely smashed my 50k goal and ended up with a workable novel draft that I used as the basis for a ghostwriting project early in 2020.

I think why Novlr really makes the perfect NaNoWriMo companion though, is that everyone who works on it is a writer, and cares about what writers need. They actively work on features that writers want and avoid bloat with features they don’t. And because of their NaNoWriMo integration, Novlr also has a front-row seat to how their users perform over the National Novel Writing Month and can tailor their platform accordingly.

Very few NaNo participants manage 30 days of non-stop writing. Life gets in the way, so it’s easy to lose focus. With streaks built into Novlr’s platform, it helps form writing habits, and with word count goals that give pop-ups that cheer you on the closer you get, and applaud you when you reach them, it makes writing feel like a joyous experience rather than a chore. There’s a sense of accomplishment when you reach your goals or embark on a writing streak. It’s that attention to detail and the little things that can make all the difference to your writing routine.

Novlr gives me encouragement as I reach key writing milestones.

Over the years, Novlr has grown into something truly special, and now, with full NaNoWriMo integration, it’s never been easier to track my word count and be a productive writer. If all goes well over NaNoWriMo I can even publish to eBook, straight from the dashboard. And because it allows me to set my own goals outside of November, I can keep the NaNo spirit going all year round!

Novlr is offering NaNoWriMo 2021 participants 40% off for a year with the coupon code NANO2140. Extend your discount to 2 years by winning NaNoWriMo 2021! Offer expires December 31, 2021.

Pamela Koehne-Drube is freelance writer, editor, researcher, and professional historian who has just joined the Novlr team. As a ghostwriter she has published both fiction and non-fiction books over a variety of subjects and genres for self-published writers and for major publishing houses. Pamela lives in West Wales with her husband and a little tornado of a Staffordshire Bull Terrier. The rugged beauty of the Pembrokeshire coast inspires her every day.

#nanowrimo #writing #amwriting #writing software #nano prep #by nano sponsor #novlr #pamela koehne-drube

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jobean12-blog · 4 years ago

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Spiral of Need

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (FATWS!Bucky)

Word Count: 1,467

Summary: You and Bucky are on an undercover mission

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club Bucky Barnes appreciation day and FATWS!Bucky. I got this great ask so I thought it would work perfectly for it. Hope you enjoy and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: jealous Bucky, dom!Bucky, dirty talk, cursing, oral sex (f rec), SMUT (18+ ONLY PLEASE!)

DO NOT CLICK ��KEEP READING’ UNLESS YOU ARE 18+ YEARS OF AGE, thank you!

You discreetly adjust your hidden earpiece before silently letting Bucky know you’re about to make your move. He gives you a small nod before turning to the bar and ordering a drink. You saunter over to your target, the dress you’re wearing leaving little to the imagination and the moment the man catches sight of you he grins.

Your skin crawls but you remain calm as you walk by. Alexander Pierce’s arm reaches out to touch your elbow and you stop, giving him a coy look. “Well, hello there beautiful. What are you doing here by yourself?” he asks, moving closer.

Letting your eyelashes fan your cheek you giggle. “Oh! Well, I was with a friend, but she seems to have found better company,” you explain, finishing the last of your champagne.

“It must be my lucky night then,” Pierce says smoothly. “Care to join me for another drink?” he asks, motioning to your empty glass and offering you his elbow. He introduces himself and you give him your fake name, taking his arm and walking toward the bar.

You can feel Bucky’s eyes on you the entire time but refrain from glancing his way. You’re sure to play the part of an interested and fawning woman, resting your hand on Pierce’s knee as he goes on about his new business plan.

After a few drinks Pierce starts to get more handsy and you know you need to download the information off his phone soon. His glass is empty, so you turn to get the bartenders attention. You feel his hand cup your ass and you inwardly cringe but instead of laying him out you slowly remove his hand with a shy giggle.

The sound of a glass breaking pulls your attention away and you look down the bar to find Bucky shooting daggers your way and broken pieces of glass littering the bar. You give him a questioning glance before turning back to Pierce who thankfully seems to be too busy staring down your dress to notice anything else.

Bucky’s POV

Bucky stares down the bar and watches Pierce’s hand caress your ass. His vision blurs with anger and he squeezes his drink a little too hard, the glass shattering under the pressure of his metal fingers. When you look his way, your eyes are questioning but you quickly shift your focus back to the target.

He lets out a low growl and he knows you hear it in your earpiece, your body giving away more than you realize. Pierce’s hand continues to brush over your skin and Bucky sucks in a breath, silently berating himself for losing control.

This whole mission has been torturous since the moment you walked out of the bathroom in that dress. The silky material hugs you like a second skin and the slit is so high it should be illegal. His hands have been twitching to rip it off for the last 4 hours and the fact that Pierce is touching you makes his blood boil.

Reader POV

Knowing your time is running out you lean closer to Pierce, whispering in his ear while discreetly planting the device for downloading the information. You pull back and finish off the rest of your drink, hoping to wash down the grossness you feel at being so close to the man.

“It’s done,” Bucky rumbles in your ear.

Giving Pierce a light kiss on the cheek you excuse yourself to the ladies’ room and walk away. Once you’re out of sight you make a bee line for the elevators where Bucky is waiting.

“Did you send Tony what he needs?” you ask, pulling the earpiece out. Bucky simply nods, his eyes unreadable as he waits for the elevator with clenched fists.

“Are you ok baby?” you ask quietly.

He doesn’t answer you. The elevator doors open, and he gently takes your arm, pulling you inside. Your back hits the cool mirrored wall as Bucky’s hard body presses along yours.

“Am I ok?” he counters, letting his metal fingers ghost down your neck. “I had to watch that asshole put his hands all over you for the past two hours and I haven’t been able to touch you.”

His voice is dangerously low, and you can’t stop your thighs from squeezing together. “I’m just doing my job baby. I hated every minute of it,” you tell him, grabbing his suit jacket.

“I hate it. I don’t ever want another man to know how soft your skin feels or how perfect this ass is,” he growls, reaching down and massaging it.

Your head falls back with a lewd moan. Bucky parts your legs with his thigh and smooths his hands over your hips.

“You’ve got nothing on under here,” he says, more of a statement than a question.

You start rocking your hips over his thigh just as the elevator dings and the door opens to the penthouse floor.

“Fuck,” he grunts, releasing you and walking you to the double doors. “Look what you did to my pants baby girl.”

You see the wet patch glistening on the fabric just before he drags you inside and crowds you against the wall.

“I’m going to show you who you belong to baby girl,” he whispers into your neck. His lips trail over your jaw and meet your lips. His kiss is dominant and needy as his fingers ghost over your collarbone to the swell of your breasts.

He releases your mouth and kisses down your neck, sucking on your pulse point before slipping the strap of your dress off your shoulder. “How do I get this off without ripping it?” he asks with a smirk.

You take the other strap and let it fall. With a few wiggles the dress drops to your waist revealing your strapless bra.

“You just have to pull the rest off,” you purr, toying with his bow tie. Your fingers make quick work of the silk and you let it hang loose over his neck, taking the two edges and dragging him closer.

“Take me any way you want Bucky. I’m all yours,” you coo before brushing your lips over his.

The rest of your dress falls to the floor in a shredded heap, his apologetic look short lived as he leads you to the bed. You fall backwards onto the mattress and he grabs your ankles, pulling you to the edge and spreading your legs.

You barely have a chance to grab hold of his short strands before he dives in, the first swipe of his tongue sending a bolt of electricity through you. Your heels dig into his back and you pull him impossibly closer.

“Oh my god, Bucky, don’t stop,” you cry out. “Please.”

His metal fingers trail down your thigh and slowly push into you. You tug his hair hard, loving the feel of his appreciative growl. You tighten around his fingers and he slows his movements, drawing out your orgasm.

When he finally pulls away you’re a panting mess and his chin and lips are shiny with your release.

“Turn over,” he commands, standing and taking off his suit jacket.

You watch as he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down, the outline of his arousal showing through his boxer briefs. His shirt comes off next, but his bow tie still hangs around his neck and you bite your lip, wanting to grab hold of it again.

“I said. Turn. Over.” His tone is dark, leaving no room for argument and you do as you’re told.

His metal hand smooths over the curve of your ass before he lifts your hips. He coats himself in your wetness and fills you up in one swift thrust. You moan into the duvet and your hands fist into the soft fabric as he begins rocking his hips.

His pace is relentless, and he grabs your hair, pressing his chest to your back. “You’re mine,” he whispers with a sharp tug.

“Harder, Bucky,” you beg.

He let’s go of your hair and grabs hold of your hips, slamming into you harder.

“You like when I show you who you belong to,” he grits out. “Don’t you baby girl?”

At his words, your walls start to clench around him, and he completely loses control, rocking the bed so hard the headboard repeatedly hits the wall. He finishes in a flurry of muffled curses, laying his sweat slicked body atop yours as you both try to regain even breathing.

“I fucking love you,” he whispers before pulling out and rolling off. He drags you into his chest and brushes the hair from your face. “I’m sorry I ruined your dress.”

Your fingertips trace along the scruff on his jaw and you narrow your eyes. “I love you too. And no, you’re not!”

@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @imerdwarf @fxckbuckyscoming @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @loricameback @lookiamtrying @la-cey @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @pinkdiamond1016 @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @tuiccim @the-wayward-robot @white-wolf1940 @littleredstarfish @lizette50 @harrysthiccthighss

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader smut #fatws!bucky #fatws!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky drabble #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #hbc bucky barnes appreciation days

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justnerdthings · 3 years ago

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New Beginnings Ch.4

Female reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao (Not sure which yet)

This chapter is a bit shorter, so I'm going to go ahead and post it now. Hope you enjoy!

Liu was much easier to relax around. He didn’t openly judge you on things that didn’t matter. Though, he had gently mentioned that you were a bit on the heavy side. “Not to worry, It’ll be gone soon enough,” he’d told you as he thrusted a pole into the sand. You stared at it expectantly. He stood in front of it, held his hands as if to pray, took a deep breath, then slammed his palm on it. He drove it down until it only stood a few inches out of the sand. How the hell did he do that without breaking his hand? He straightened up and grinned at your bewilderment. “You’re wondering how I did that.”

“Yeah…”

“Training.” Right. Of course. Training. You sighed. He stepped back and pointed down to the pole. He flashed you another grin. “I’m willing to bet that your fear of heights is attributed to falling from the height.”

“Uh… Yeah.” Honestly, if you could fly, you probably would be okay with heights. You might even love them.

“So we’ll address that.”

“What?”

“Come here.” He pointed to the pole again. You stepped over and looked down at it. “Step on it.”

You looked up to him with a raised brow.

He nodded and held out his hands. You hesitantly reached for them and he gripped your hands tight, but carefully. “Step on it.” You did, balancing for a whopping two nano-seconds before you dropped your other foot to catch yourself. “Good.” He still held onto you. “Again.”

You stiffened with anxiety. You were just going to keep falling. But you lifted back onto it… and promptly lost your balance again. Frustrated, you lifted right back up, and wobbled unflatteringly before falling forward.

Liu let go your hands and in too quick of a motion to see, he caught you by the waist.

“Sorry,” you said quickly. Your jaw clenched as you realized how close you two were.

He chuckled softly in your ear and stepped back to give you room. “It’s alright. Try not to get frustrated. Remaining calm is the key to control.” He let go of you and gestured back to the pole.

“Okay…” You stepped back, still feeling a bit awkward. Okay, stay calm. Sure. You could do that. You sucked in a breath and looked down at the pole. You placed your foot on it, shifting around until it felt like it would be a good spot to balance. You lifted onto it and outstretched your arms to help balance, but slipped. You huffed.

“Keep going,” Liu coached, stepping closer. He offered his hands again. “Use me to lean on when you feel yourself losing balance. But only then.” You knew he’d catch you if you fell. You kept trying. Each time, you lost your balance but got right back up. You didn’t know how long you were at it, but you’d tried both feet, alternating as one got tired. Liu stood right by you the entire time, giving you constructive guidance and letting you lean on him as needed.

Liu’s logic was spot on. Your balance was not the best. You spent more time leaning on Liu than actually balancing. If you were going to pass Lao’s meditation training, you would need to get control of your balance. You had two months to prepare for sitting on the edge of Raiden’s arena, and you sure as hell would feel better about it if you could trust a small breeze to not knock you over.

By the time Liu stopped you, your feet were sore and your confidence shot. You had zero balance. And you would bet that Liu could balance on that pole, ten feet in the air, for hours. You were horribly ill-prepared. But Liu hadn’t lost hope. “You will get better,” he’d told you. And he meant it. Dinner. You were glad to get off your feet. You slipped out of your shoes at the door and gratefully plopped yourself down at the table. Oh, god, did that feel so good. It was like coming home after a long day at work, on your feet for eight hours. You rubbed your soles and Liu chuckled as he sat next to you. “Those will also get better,” he assured softly.

“Jesus Christ…” you hissed as your thumbs massaged your sore soles.

“Liu Kang, actually,” he joked with a small grin.

You rolled your eyes, but gave him a chuckle. “Those shoes you guys gave me don’t have hardly any support.”

“They are traditional monk’s shoes. They were not designed for support.”

“Okay, but is it too much to ask for some skechers?”

Liu chuckled. “These shoes will help strengthen your feet.”

“These shoes are going to destroy my feet,” you said as the door opened behind you. You didn’t bother to look.

“Who took their shoes off?” Lao announced as he sat, feigning a bad smell.

You mocked his grin and lifted a socked foot, reaching it out towards his face to tease him back. He swatted it away with a laugh.

“Elder Gods be damned, you need to put those things away,” he continued.

“They don’t smell. That’s just you,” you countered. “Was fine in here before your ass showed up.”

“Aw, did I interrupt something?” He lifted a brow with a sly grin as he looked between you and Liu.

“Jealous?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead with you.”

“That’s good, because I’m not into necrophilia.”

“Is that why you don’t have a boyfriend?”

You mocked his grin again. “Look who’s talking.”

Lao straightened. “I am very particular about choosing my future wife,” he told you.

“Oh? Not enough to just have a pulse?”

Liu grinned but stayed out of it as he fixed his plate.

“She will have to birth my children. I don’t want someone who can’t handle that honor.”

You laughed. It sounded more like a punishment to you.

“She will give birth to the next Kung Lao, who will be trained to fight in future Mortal Kombats. He will carry my ancestor’s legacy.”

“Who even is that guy anyway? You never told me.”

“He lived over five-hundred years ago. He was the first representative of The Order Of Light to fight in Mortal Kombat. He defeated Shang Tsung and saved Earthrealm—” Lao was interrupted.

“Shang Tsung had won the nine previous tournaments,” Liu added.

“Like now?” you asked. Liu nodded and Lao continued.

“It is customary for the victor to kill their opponent, but my ancestor did not. He showed Shang Tsung mercy. Fifty years later, Shang corrupted the tournament and my ancestor was killed by Goro, a Shokan prince. Shang Tsung then took his soul to power his sorcery.”

“What?...” you breathed. Was Lao being serious? You looked to Liu and he nodded. Lao was really telling you the truth.

“Every first born son of my family has been given his name and has vowed revenge against Shang and Goro.”

“Wait. Wait.” You had to process this. “They’re still alive? They’re five-hundred years old?”

“The grand champions do not age as long as they keep their title,” Liu explained.

“They don’t age?... Like… Immortal?”

“They are still mortal. They can die as anyone else. They just won't die of old age.”

“That’s fucking crazy…”

Lao and Liu both grinned.

“So… Wait… How old are you guys?”

“We have not won any tournaments,” Liu answered.

You nodded. That was both the answer you hadn’t wanted, and had wanted. “That doesn’t give me much hope for winning the next one.”

“The pressure is immense,” Liu said with an understanding nod.

“But we will win,” Lao said, sure of himself. “We have to. There is no choice.”

@ancientowlgirl @miss-nori85

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #liu kang #kung lao #raiden #reader insert #fanfic #fic #reader x character #ludi lin #max huang #tadanobu asano #new beginnings

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

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Sub Rosa [99]

xv. the dying of the light

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 6.0k

Warnings: language, mentions of blood, angst, Cadogan is a piece of shit, anxiety, fighting, death, just some very sad, very heavy stuff.

Summary: bellamy is gone, gabriel is gone, and now madi has disappeared. desperation rises as you all race to save madi before she too is taken from you.

a/n: sorry, but my brain is struggling to process that this is number 99!!!!! i swear i just posted episode 1 like last week? how is this possible? the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

The first thing you realize is that Miller saved all of your lives with his quick thinking. You turn and meet his gaze, grateful that he was fast enough to get the bomb behind one of the solid doors. “Thank you.”

He nods in acknowledgment, before another soft rumble settles through the room, and the door the bomb is behind starts to groan softly. Which brings you to the second realization, that in saving all of your lives, Miller possibly doomed the others. Because the door he threw the bomb behind is the door that leads to the rest of the bunker. It’s the door that leads to the stone, in the rec room with Jackson, Murphy, Emori, and Raven.

Miller immediately pries the door in question off the hinges with one of the spears from the arena, revealing a doorway of stacked concrete, confirming what you already knew. The others are trapped down below, and the rest of you are trapped up here. You have access to the outside, but no way to reach the stone or the rest of your friends. You turn to look at Clarke, seeking out her counsel, despite still being angry with her. She gives you a desperate look, before a look of realization passes over her face. “We can still get to Madi.”

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small vial, three blue pills inside. You recognize them immediately as nano trackers, likely brought over by Sheidheda, the same ones Cadogan used to leave the bunker. Clarke unscrews the bottle and immediately dumps one out, preparing to swallow it, but Gaia closes the space between them and stops her hand from dropping the pill into her mouth. “Clarke, we have to think this through.”

“Gaia's right. Only the second pill’s for me.” Clarke looks over at you in surprise, not expecting you to take her side after what she did. But she killed Bellamy to protect Madi, and if something happens to Madi, then Bellamy and Gabriel died for nothing. All of it was for nothing. You refuse to let their deaths be in vain, which is why you hold your hand out for one of the pills, and Clarke quickly passes one to you. Behind you, Octavia speaks up, moving closer to you and Clarke. “We're gonna need an inside man.”

You both understand her statement for what it is: an offer to go with the two of you, so Clarke hands Octavia the third and final pill. All of you swallow them, one after the next, Octavia the last to do so, and you stand staring at each other, waiting to instantly disappear the way that Cadogan did.

Except, you don’t.

The three of you stay firmly in place, looking at each other in absolute confusion. “Cadogan disappeared right away.”

“Why isn't this working?”

Hope answers you and Clarke both, shrugging a little as she does. “Maybe somebody has to be waiting in Bardo to pull you through.”

A strange look passes over Clarke’s face, half anger, half amusement, before settling into one of determination. She crosses the room in three strides, stopping at the door to the rest of the bunker, clamping her hands down on the first piece of stone she sees. She pulls, letting out a cry of effort as she does, the concrete moving nowhere. She tries again, her hands slipping off the stone, likely scratching her the way they did when the two of you tried to dig to this very same bunker, and you shake your head before moving towards her. “Clarke.”

She doesn’t turn around, determinedly yanking at the stones and sliding off them, making no progress, going nowhere, but still trying nonetheless. “We have to get to Madi! Cadogan could be digging into her brain right now.”

You reach out for her, grabbing her arm and spinning her towards you. “Clarke! We spent days trying to dig our way to the bunker before we nearly died in that collapse, and this is no different. You’re gonna dislodge a stone and get yourself killed if you keep this up, and you’re no use to Madi if you’re dead.”

She sets her jaw, and you think she’s about to start a fight with you before her eyes drop and her gaze softens. “Your shoulder.”

You peer down at your shoulder and the blood staining your shirt, the wound from Sheidheda still bleeding, the pain forgotten to you in the chaos of everything that’s happened since then. “It’s nothing.”

You try to shrug her off, stepping away from her, not wanting her comfort or her help, but she reaches out to grab your arm, her hand closing around one of the cuts on your forearm. She can feel the wetness on her hand as soon as she grabs you, and she immediately lets go of you and looks at you in alarm. “La lune!”

She grabs your hand and turns your arm over, eyes scanning the cuts on both of your forearms. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I honestly can't feel it. Adrenaline and all that.”

“Come here.” She tries to pull you to the side, and you don’t budge at first, but she gives you one of those looks that lets you know this is not negotiable, because your own words apply to you in this moment. You’re no good to Madi dead, and bleeding to death because you’re mad at Clarke is not the way to go. So when she tugs you to the side a second time, you let her, and she motions for you to sit across from her as she tears strips of cloth from the bottom of her shirt. The tension between the two of you temporarily melts away as she ties makeshift bandages around your forearms and shoulder, your access to real bandages nonexistent. You sit quietly as she fixes you up the best she can, before she finally breaks the silence to whisper, “I’m sorry about Bellamy, I swear I am. I didn’t want to do it, but I had to, to protect Madi. You can hate me forever, la lune, I’ll understand.”

You sit in silence for a second, weighing her words, and you can tell from the anguish in her voice that she means it. But that doesn't erase all of your feelings instantly, as much as you wish it did. You wish you could erase the hurt and the grief and the anger, but you can’t. It’s still raw and open, weighing on you at every moment. “Clarke, you’re my shining star. You’re a part of me. I understand why you did what you did, and I understand why you feel like it was the only choice. But that doesn't change the fact that Bellamy is dead and you pulled the trigger. I don't hate you, I don't think I ever could, but I don't forgive you either, at least not yet. Hopefully one day I’ll forgive you and we can move past this, but right now, I'm too damn hurt and angry.”

She nods her head, looking up at you with tears in her eyes. “I understand. If it helps, I regret it. I don't think I’d do it again, especially if I knew that Madi was just gonna turn herself in despite everything.”

You say nothing for a long second, your voice a soft whisper, cracking with emotion when you say, “I just wish I could have said goodbye. I gave him back the ring, you know, and he died thinking I didn't love him, but I do. I love him with my whole heart, my entire being. He’s my soulmate, and he died thinking that I hate him.”

You feel your bottom lip quiver before tears start to spill down your face, and you see tears in Clarke’s eyes before she pulls you in for a hug, holding you as you cry for Bellamy. And in this moment, you allow yourself to forget what happened to him, focusing only on the fact that he’s gone. You allow your twin to comfort you, hold you close, softly humming Clair de lune in your ear until you start to calm down again. And even after the two of you break apart, you stay side by side, unable to leave each other’s side, even now, when everything between you is tense and weird.

Indra is the first to break the silence and tension hanging over the room. “We should discuss the plan. Clarke, la lune, and Octavia bring us over. We get Madi and kill their leader.”

Gaia jumps down from the perch she was on, walking towards her mother. “Killing Cadogan won't change anything.”

“He can't chase us if he's dead.”

She shakes her head at Indra trying to get her to understand. “You've seen faith, Mother. You kill the Commander, another takes her place. You kill the Fleimkepa, another takes his place. Faith doesn't just die, it gets carried forward. Cadogan's people are no different.”

Miller asks the question that you’re all beginning to wonder. “Then how does this end?”

“Bellamy asked that question, too.” You all look towards Octavia, the mood sobering even further at the mention of Bellamy. “One Last War, and then we transcend and we become the light.”

Across the room, Jordan breaks his silence. “It's a beautiful idea, but fighting is not how we get there. War is a failure of everything. Which is why it's a test, not a war.”

“Test, war, test, war. The disciples have been studying the Bardo texts for over 1,000 years. You really think you know better?”

Jordan turns to Hope, answering her question with complete confidence. “Yes. And it's not just that I read some old books, I felt it. That red sun toxin showed me something. I couldn't figure it out, but I knew it was important, and then I read the Bardo texts, and it hit me... the next step in human evolution.”

You can feel Clarke going more restless with each passing second, until she abruptly stands and snaps, “Nonsense.”

Everyone turns to face her after the outburst, but she avoids everyone’s eyes as she stalks up the ramp towards the exit. “All that matters now is saving Madi and killing Cadogan. There's no Last War or test. Bellamy's dead because he believed that crap, and I've heard enough!”

You look after her retreating figure, wondering if you should go after her. Everything between the two of you is weird, and your anger is telling you to stay, bristling at the casual way she mentioned Bellamy’s death. But your softer side, the part of you that’s connected to her, it’s telling you to go after her, comfort her, despite what she did. Gaia seems to sense your conflict, because she steps towards you with a smile and whispers, “I got it.”

You nod in thanks, relieved that you don’t have to decide, before sitting back down and beginning the excruciating process of waiting once more. You’re quickly realizing that there’s nothing you hate more than waiting: waiting to fight, waiting to escape, waiting to die. Because waiting is usually silent, and that silence easily morphs into your regrets, and fears, and worries. It’s when you think about everything you've done wrong and everything you haven't yet gotten the chance to do. There’s time to think of who you’ve killed and who you’ve lost, which opens up the door to the painful memories that usually stay locked deep in your brain, in that place you try to keep hidden from everyone, including yourself.

Waiting is suffocating, and in the time you’ve spent on Earth, Sanctum, Skyring, and Bardo, you’ve already done too much of it.

You stand, starting to pace around the rotunda, the way Bellamy used to pace when he first got back from space. The same habit he turned to when he had to wait. And as your feet move you around the room in continuous circles, you start to understand. It’s rhythmic, the way your feet carry you across the floor, boots thudding softly against the metal, and each time you walk past Hope, the thuds stutter, your footsteps softened by an uneven spot on the floor.

As you pace around the room, you force your mind to stay on the safe topics. The ones that don't involve painful memories or the ghosts that seem to stalk you. Instead, you keep things light, reciting constellations and medicinal plants, anything to keep your mind occupied. A few times you slip up, your thoughts drifting to what Bellamy was thinking in his final moments, as he bled out on Sanctum alone. You start to worry about Madi and what she’s going through without you, cursing yourself for not getting to her sooner and stopping her from leaving. You think about Gabriel and his final words to you, what they meant... You shake your head, clearing the spiral of memories and grief, shifting back to your safe topics, ignoring the thoughts that are begging to pull you down.

You only pause your pacing once, when Clarke and Gaia come out of the decontamination room and take up a spot on the ramp, sitting across from each other cross legged, Gaia talking to your twin softly. You resume your pacing, glancing at them every few minutes, realizing that Gaia must be teaching Clarke to calm her mind the way she taught Madi to.

But Clarke’s peace is short lived, and within minutes she’s standing, her voice rising as she glares down at Gaia. “How do you expect me to focus right now when my daughter is out there, probably being tortured right now?”

“You think I don't know that?” Gaia stands abruptly, and you pause your pacing to watch them. She gives Clarke an anguished look, her voice dropping slightly when she adds, “I love her too, Clarke.”

A look of sympathy passes over Clarke’s face before she reaches out and pulls the former Flamekeeper into a hug. “I know, I know, I'm sorry.”

You’re about to start pacing again, the conflict seemingly resolved, when you catch a glimpse of green around Clarke. She pulls away from Gaia, her hands starting to disappear, and she turns to look at you with a smile. “It's working.”

Clarke disappears in a haze of emerald, leaving you to turn and look at Octavia, “I’m next.”

Miller yells out to you, “La lune, catch!”

You turn towards him, catching the pistol he tosses your way, seconds before you too fade away from the bunker. All around you, the world is green, bright and hazy, until it fades into a darker hue. It takes a second for you to realize that you’re not in the Stone Room, but in the oxygen farm, surrounded by an army of disciples, all of them pointing weapons right at you and Clarke. You raise the pistol that Miller tossed to you, you and Clarke aiming back at the disciples, and Octavia appears a second later, instantly lifting her rifle.

A disciple near the font of the armed group looks towards you and loudly yells, “Drop your weapons! Hands in the air!”

Octavia drops her weapon first, lifting her hands in surrender, and you and Clarke exchange a look before you both follow suit. Despite not wanting to surrender to the disciples, you both know you have no choice, and if you choose to take a stand here, it will only result in the three of you ending up dead. So you both drop your weapons and lift your hands in the air, following the commands of the disciples as they close in on you. The three of you are restrained and led past the waiting army, through the oxygen farm and the halls of Bardo until you’re delivered to a cell.

They release all three of you in one room, and you stand there for a minute, stunned by what just happened. “Why did we show up in the oxygen farm?”

Clarke shakes her head, “I don't know. But they’re preparing for a war, which means they have Madi and she’s in trouble.”

She plops down onto the nearest bed in frustration, dropping her head into her hands before she starts to softly cry. Octavia sits down beside her, offering her comfort, the moment soon overshadowed by someone singing. And not just someone, Sheidheda. He sings the Grounder Anthem, “Take a Life With Me”, over and over on a loop, until there is no sadness left in your prison cell, only frustration.

You take up pacing again as nothing you do drowns out the awful, annoying sound, which continues repeatedly, until you’re sure you’re about to lose your mind. You can sense Clarke growing tense too, her body starting to fidget more and more until she finally yells out, “Shut up!”

But Sheidheda doesn't shut up, he just keeps singing without a care in the world. Clarke looks at you with worry and frustration, her eyes wide, her nerves frazzled. “We did all that just to end up back here, locked up in a cell next to Sheidheda.”

“We'll get Madi back.” You don’t say anything beyond that, your anger at her now back in full force now that you’re back in Bardo, but you do let out a sigh, frustrated that your emotions are so all over the place. You wonder what Anders would say about you now, watching you pace the room like a caged animal, angry and frustrated and ready to destroy Bardo if you have to.

You’re pulled back to the present by Clarke sighing loudly, looking doubtful about your assurance of finding Madi, which Octavia notices. She puts a hand on Clarke’s knee, whose gaze shifts over to the younger Blake. “Think about it: someone brought us here. That means we have help on the inside, it's just a matter of time.”

Clarke nods, contemplating her words, realizing the truth to them, and she’s quiet for a moment before whispering, “Thank you.”

Something about her tone makes you pause, and you stop in front of her as Clarke’s gaze shifts between you and Octavia. “Both of you. Thank you for offering to come.”

Octavia answers first, “I told you I get it now, what she means to you. It's what Hope means to me.”

“It's what we meant to Bellamy.” Clarke and Octavia look towards you, the mood dampening the way it does when you all remember that Bellamy is gone, for real this time. You’re surprised you even said it, and you have to fight against the tears that are threatening to rise, glancing between the two women you call sister. “We were everything to him.”

Octavia whispers, “That's how I'll remember him.”

Clarke reaches out to grab your hand and you let her, before she reaches for Octavia’s hand too, the three of you sitting together as a small human chain, mourning the loss of Bellamy. And as the three of you mourn, tears streaming down your faces, the door to your cell opens. Clarke and Octavia stand beside you and turn to see Levitt hovering near the entrance, smiling at Octavia. She moves towards him, and as the pair hugs, you get a flash of disappointment. Part of you hoped that it would be Bellamy here to save you, despite seeing his body bleeding out on the palace floor in Sanctum. Something you remind yourself of as Clarke mutters, “Hate to interrupt, but we need to get to Madi. What’s the plan?”

Levitt and Octavia pull apart, and he looks between the three of you, growing anxious. “I don't know. Isn't this your guys' specialty? How would you do it?”

Octavia thinks for a second and then says, “Use the suits, go invisible.”

“No, that won't work. Too many disciples with helmets around.”

Clarke shrugs, “Then we come in hot, and we take them all out.”

You shake your head, instantly disagreeing. If the disciples are preparing for a war, then Clarke’s right. Madi is in danger now. You have no doubt that you, Clarke, and Octavia could come in and take the disciples out with ease, but how long will that give you? Five minutes? Ten? It’s loud and it’s messy, and it’ll put a target on your backs. You need a distraction, something to pull the disciples away from M-Cap, giving the four of you time to find Madi and get her to safety. You search your brain for a different plan, struggling to come up with anything, thanks to Sheidheda’s obnoxious singing.

And that’s when it comes to you.

You look between the three of them, smiling, pointing to the room next door. “Or we create a distraction.”

Realization passes over each of their faces, and you know you’re all on the same page. “Good idea.”

Levitt heads to the door of your cell and reaches for a bag that he left behind, tossing each of you a gun before leading you from your room and to the next cell over. He quickly pulls the door scanner from the wall, attaching a few wires to a tablet from his bag and typing in a code. He removes the tablet and tucks it away before reattaching the scanner and pushing the button. The door to Sheidheda’s cell slides open, and you, Clarke, and Octavia go in weapons hot, aiming directly at the man in the room. He stops singing when he hears your entrance, turning slowly to look at the three of you glaring in anger, Levitt waiting just behind you. “Well, since no one's shooting, I suppose that means you need me.”

He laughs a little and stands to his feet, musing, “What would Madi think?”

Clarke lowers her gun and lunges at him, intending to hit him, but you reach out and grab her arm to stop her. “Clarke!”

Sheidheda laughs, looking you over, taking in your bandages and the blood that’s still on your face, a mix of Gabriel’s and your own. “I got the doctor good, didn't I? Tell me, did he make it?”

And this time, it’s your turn to lunge, dropping Clarke’s arm and reaching for the man, seeing only red, your anger raw with grief. But Octavia grabs you, pulling you back, yelling out, “That’s enough, all of you! We need to stop Cadogan.”

You take a breath, calming yourself, aware that you need the man in front of you to save your niece and stop Cadogan from winning. Which means, for now, you’ll play alongside him. But if he makes it out of here and you get the chance, you’ll kill him for what he did to Gabriel and Madi.

Sheidheda shrugs at Octavia’s words, growling a little, “I tried, and for my troubles, they locked me up here.”

Clarke doesn't care, blowing past his complaint to snap, “Here's the deal. I'd love to kill you, but you're right, we need you. We set you loose, and you draw the disciples away from M-Cap.”

“I'm not some petty distraction. I'm the high king of Sanctum.”

You roll your eyes, “Okay, Your Highness. Then we walk out of here and lock the door behind us.”

He sneers at you, giving you an annoyed smile. “Hmm, distraction it is.”

You motion towards the door with your gun. “Then let’s go.”

Levitt leads the way to M-Cap, the rest of you keeping your guns trained on Sheidheda, but you stop when you reach the last few hallways to your destination. You can hear people nearby, likely standing guard or prepping for the war, and you motion towards Sheidheda as you all duck out of sight. He smiles before he steps away, and you can hear the moment he catches sight of the disciples. “Attention, sheep. I'm here to kill your Shepherd.”

You can hear one of the guards yelling commands, followed immediately by the sounds of fighting. Gunshots ring out in the air, accented by screams of pain, but you all stay hidden in a nearby corridor until the sounds grow fainter and fainter, Sheidheda clearing the halls ahead of you. Once you hear no more fighting, you tentatively slip from your hiding spot and walk down the hall, rounding the corner to find blood splashed along the walls and dead bodies scattered everywhere. You shake your head at the violent scene in front of you, thinking that surely Sheidheda didn’t need to be so brutal. Still, he got the job done, because there’s no one in sight to stop your approach.

Unfortunately, there is also no sign of Sheidheda. “He's not here?”

Clarke turns to look back at Octavia. “We knew that was a possibility, we'll deal with Sheidheda later.”

Levitt looks around at the bodies littering the floor, carefully stepping around dark red puddles of blood, his voice horrified when he whispers, “I grew up with these people.”

“That's war, Levitt.” Octavia turns to glance at him, offering him no sympathy for the horror he’s experiencing. “It looks exciting in hologram mode, but this is the reality.”

Clarke shakes her head, grabbing a few grenades as she walks past the bodies, barely glancing back at the couple as she continues on her way. “Come on. Right now, all that matters is getting to Madi.”

You all follow her down the halls towards M-Cap, your guns raised, ready for a fight with each new hallway you turn down. But you find no one, this section of Bardo completely empty, everyone gone in pursuit of Sheidheda. “Looks like our diversion worked.”

As you reach the door to M-Cap, Clarke nods towards it. “Levitt, you go in first. They won't see you as a threat.”

He nods, and Octavia quickly pushes the button to the room, and as the door slides open, you all get into position and step inside behind Levitt. The first thing you notice is that someone is humming, the tune comforting and familiar. The second thing you notice is Madi, sprawled out in the M-Cap chair, someone’s arms around her. And when that someone looks up, you swear you’re dreaming.

Because it looks like Bellamy.

“Bellamy?” You freeze in place, the gun in your hand clattering to the floor as you stare at him in shock. He looks up at all of you, his expression surprised, clearly not expecting to see you here. He’s out of the white robes and into a white top and bottom combo, the same thing that Gabriel used to wear, and you’re relieved to see no blood on his clothes. He looks a little tired, and his curly hair is unruly, flopped all over the place, but he looks fine. Healthy even, no sign that he was recently dead.

Clarke seemingly breezes past the fact that Bellamy is alive and well, her gaze solely focused on Madi, and he releases his hold on her to allow Clarke the room to take over. He stands, looking at you closely, his expression blank for a moment, and you worry that he’s even more brainwashed than the last time you saw him. But then his expression morphs into one of relief, and he steps around the M-Cap chair to walk towards you. “La lune.”

His voice is warm and thick with affection and emotion, and you start to run towards him, tears welling up in your eyes as he jogs towards you. He meets you halfway across the room, scooping you up in his arms and spinning you once, before putting your feet firmly back on the ground, his arms holding you tight. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, and you can hear him crying as he whispers, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I should have never betrayed you. I should’ve listened to you.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You pull away to look at him, tears running down his face and your own, and you whisper, “I love you. Oh my god, I love you, and I'm sorry I left you. I didn't want to, but-”

He cuts you off, “No, you were right to leave me. And you were right about Cadogan.”

It’s like the words remind him of something, and he turns to look at the others. “Levitt, something is wrong with Madi. Cadogan did something to her.”

You all turn to look at him in shock. “What?”

Levitt immediately crosses the room to grab the glasses that the disciples use for M-Cap, and for the first time since grabbing her, Clarke pulls away from Madi, realizing that Bellamy’s right, something is wrong with her. You miss the reunion between the Blake siblings as you rush over to your niece, though you can hear them quietly talking behind you. You look down at Madi in horror, catching onto what Bellamy meant. Madi’s eyes are open, but her expression and her eyes are blank, no sign of recognition in either of them. Her heartbeat is strong, but her body is limp, moving only when one of you moves her.

Clarke looks at you with tears in her eyes, and you feel tears in your own, both of you starting to cry as Clarke turns her teary expression back to Madi. “Madi, look at me. Say something. Please say something.”

Madi remains frozen, and Clarke lets out a panicked yell, “Say something!”

But still, Madi doesn't move, and Clarke pulls her into her arms, holding her tight as she sobs, rocking her back and forth, “Oh, my baby. My baby. My baby.”

You start to cry harder, not wanting to hear or see Clarke’s heartbreak, not wanting to see Madi’s blank expression, but you can't look away. You don't look away when you feel Bellamy slide up beside you, slipping his hand into your own, you don't look away when you hear Octavia and Levitt talking quietly behind you. You keep your eyes on your little sun and your shining star, unable to do anything other than cry at the scene before you.

Clarke lays Madi back down, before turning her teary face back to you, her eyes landing on Bellamy in the process. You see surprise pass over her face, meaning she really didn't register his presence when you all stepped into the room. But her surprise turns to anger as she glares at him, “What happened? What did he do to her?”

Bellamy shakes his head, looking just as upset as the rest of you, tears streaming down his face too. “I don’t know. When I heard she was here, I came looking for her immediately. She was like this when I found her. Cadogan was already gone.”

“You said you’d keep her safe!”

Bellamy stutters a little, his voice thick with emotion. “I tried, Clarke, but I woke up in a hospital bed. I left as soon as I heard she was here, but it must have been hours after her arrival by that point.”

Clarke’s expression turns horrified as she takes in the weight of his words. He got to her as soon as he could to try to help her. But the reason it took him so long to reach her is because he was in a hospital bed. Put there by Clarke. You reach out for her, squeezing her shoulder to stop her train of thought. “Hey, hey, hey, this is not your fault. This is Cadogan’s fault.”

Bellamy whispers, “You couldn't have known.”

And though he doesn't outright say it, you know that his words are forgiveness. Bellamy offers his forgiveness to Clarke for shooting him, her anguish over Madi punishment enough. He offers her the olive branch, and it’s up to her to take it. Thankfully, she does, looking at Bellamy with genuine regret. “I shouldn't have shot you, Bellamy. I panicked, and didn't know what to do.”

“No, you were right to. I don't blame you for shooting me, it was part of a wake up call for me. La lune giving me back her ring, you shooting me, finding Madi like this, they all woke me up to the truth about Cadogan: he’s a monster. A psychopath obsessed with being worshipped, just like he was on Earth.”

And everything is simultaneously okay and not okay, because the confession is big, but none of you get the time to respond to it, because Octavia steps up beside Clarke, looking between all of you. “She can hear you. She knows you're here.”

Clarke nods and turns back towards Madi, trying to hide her tears as she smiles. “Hey, baby, I'm here. I'm right here.”

You lean down into Madi’s line of sight, doing the same to mask your hurt as you whisper, “Hey there, little sun. Ani’s here too.”

Clarke turns to face Levitt, who’s still standing off to the side. “Is it recoverable?”

“What? I-” The question catches him off guard, not sure if he should answer, but after a second, he solemnly shakes his head. “No. The areas of her brain responsible for voluntary movement have been destroyed. I'm sorry.”

The words make all of you start to cry harder, now faced with the reality that Cadogan has paralyzed Madi permanently in the pursuit of transcendence. It's enough to make you sick to your stomach. But that feeling only intensifies as Clarke glances off to the side, where her discarded pistol now lays, and after a moment of thought, she leans down to get it. You know exactly what she’s thinking because you know her better than she knows herself, and you shake your head, your voice soft and firm. “Clarke, no.”

She starts to cry harder, her hands shakily lifting the gun, determined to do what she thinks is right for Madi. But the sight breaks your heart, as Clarke can barely hold the gun steady, too overcome with emotion. Your twin that has bore it so the rest of you don't have to is breaking, and you know you need to be there for her. Which is why you drop Bellamy’s hand and reach out for the gun. “I’ll do it.”

She looks at you, expression heartbroken but hopeful, and you whisper, “I'm not letting you live with this.”

She nods a little, passing you the gun, which you take with now shaky hands. Clarke reaches out for Madi, putting a hand on either side of her face as she whispers, “I love you so much. Don't be scared, just listen to my voice, okay?”

And just like Bellamy was doing before all of you arrived, she starts to hum Clair de lune, ducking her head beside Madi’s so she can't see her tears. You lift the gun with a shaky hand, your own tears blurring your vision, aiming the pistol at her chest. But as you stare down at the blank expression of your little sun, you don't think you can do it, the burden too great for any of you to bear. You start to cry harder, a sob escaping from your chest, and Clarke looks over at you, nodding a little, letting you know that it’s okay, it’s time.

But you can’t. You stare down at Madi’s face, reminded of the girl that couldn't speak English when you met her, who caught Clarke with a bear trap. The little girl you taught how to drive, how to fight. The girl who inspired an army to fight for Shallow Valley. You shake your head a little, unable to do it, your hand starting to lower again. But then Bellamy reaches out and closes his hand over your own. You look back at him, and he looks at you, tears falling down his face as he whispers, “Together.”

You nod, and the two of you turn to face Madi, lifting the gun to aim right over her heart. And as your finger lifts to the trigger, Bellamy’s finger poised over your own, ready to help you, you whisper, “I love you, little sun.”

But before the two of you can pull the trigger, Levitt suddenly calls out, “No, he got the code!”

You pause and you all turn towards him in shock, and he catches sight of the gun in your hand, suddenly apologetic. “Oh, God. Oh, I'm sorry.”

Octavia asks, “The test code? Are you sure?”

“Hologram mode.”

He enlarges the memory so you can all see, watching as Becca’s fingers press the symbols on the Anomaly Stone, the room glowing in white before the memory ends. Clarke shifts her gaze from the memory down to Madi, her heartbreak giving way to hard anger. “He got what he needed and left her here?”

The words hit all of you right in the chest. This man that is so determined to transcend, to prove that humans are worthy, paralyzed a child to do it, and then left her alone. Bellamy was right when he called Cadogan a monster, and you can feel Wanlida smiling as she steps into view. “We have to stop him.”

Octavia starts, “If one man represents the entire human race-”

Bellamy finishes, “It can't be him.”

Levitt nods, looking between all of you. “We can still stop him, but we have to go now.”

Everyone seems to silently agree, and you and Clarke turn back to Madi. Clarke puts her hand on Madi’s cheek, and you reach out to squeeze Madi’s hand. Clarke whispers, “I'll come back. I'll be back after we stop the test, and I promise I will not let him win.”

She presses a kiss to Madi’s forehead, and leans back so you can add, “We’re going to stop him, Madi, and we’re going to fix this. I promise. Bill Cadogan thinks he’s unstoppable, but he’s never met Wanheda and Wanlida.”

next chapter

#the 100 #the 100 rewrite #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fanfiction

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jasontoddiefor · 4 years ago

Text

Title: threads spun

Summary: In another life, Obi-Wan Kenobi would have fought plenty of other Jedi Masters for the right to train little Luke Skywalker. In this one, Luke is 19 and just lost his family when Obi-Wan teaches him how to do a proper Padawan braid.

AN: I’M BACK FROM NANO WITH NEW FANFICS.

The boy just lost his whole world, and he clings to Obi-Wan's robes with shaky hands. His eyes are bright blue, his hair a fair gold color, and for just one short moment, Obi-Wan isn't sure whether the child in front of him is nine or nineteen, whether his name is Anakin or Luke.

It is the reason he gave Luke to his family in the end, even when the Force and all his selfish desires were screaming at him not to. The newborn, the son of his Padawan, the child that was Luke Skywalker, had deserved better than a broken man who didn't even know who he was without a thousand lights illuminating him. A man who'd risk forgetting that he was not holding the child he had raised, the child he had left to burn.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes and the moment passes.

He doesn't ask the boy if he's alright because it is obvious that Luke is not and it would be cruel to demand an honest answer. Luke can't be standing straight after he experienced such tremendous loss for the first time, nobody would, and Obi-Wan is saddened that he can't give Luke the time to grieve.

Despite all this pain, Obi-Wan still dares to hope for light and life.

He is relieved to see that Luke doesn't take all the hurt and anger to hide it within himself. Obi-Wan has never taught Luke a single lesson about Jedi philosophy, the way they grieve and handle all the emotions that are too large for this world, those that are capable of tearing the galaxy apart. And yet Luke controls his feelings exactly as a temple-raised youngling would, not pushing them aside or letting them overtake him. He takes timed breaths, centers himself on the world surrounding him and not on his anxieties. Pride fills Obi-Wan's heart as he watches peace and balance return to Luke's mind.

In another life, Obi-Wan would have fought plenty of other Jedi Masters for the right to train him.

He can almost hear his family laugh at him, playful jabs about him being so eager to train yet another Skywalker and see what colors they could draw nebulas in. It isn't Obi-Wan's fault; he has always loved a challenge, and Luke, racing in Beggar's Canyon at an age no boy should step into that death trap, would have certainly been a joy to teach and guide.

He could have taught him so much, so much he still needs to teach him, but the clock is ticking and time has always been a cruel mistress. Not purposefully, she wouldn't dare, but she is absolute and eternal, and like death, she takes.

Obi-Wan silently wonders how much time he has left. He knows exactly where they are heading and despite the legends he has wrapped around himself in his exile, he's neither crazy nor a fool. They are attempting to pull off a plan that they wouldn't even have dared to suggest during the Clone Wars, not with so many untrained people. He's been called reckless plenty of times, his ability to talk himself out of seeming like an adrenaline junkie being his only saving grace. Still, Obi-Wan is acutely aware of the danger they are in.

But they have no other choice. They may have the Death Star plans in their hands – and wasn't it utterly predictable that it would be Artoo to carry the plans for a weapon of mass destruction? – but Leia can't stay in the Empire's hands.

Luke and she were so strong in the Force at their birth already. While Obi-Wan is convinced that Bail must have taught Leia at least some shielding techniques, half-trained children can't withstand a Sith Lord for long. Should Vader or worse, Palpatine, learn what Leia could become capable of, they would have so much more to worry about in the future.

The Rebellion might as well be lost.

"You have grown into a fine young man, Luke," Obi-Wan tells Anakin's son instead.

"I have?" Luke echoes, curiosity coloring his voice, highlighting a cadence similar to Padmé's despite his heavy Outer Rim accent.

"I brought you to Tatooine," Obi-Wan tells him. The journey hadn't been an easy one. They had to change ships multiple times and every time somebody had mistaken Obi-Wan for Luke's father, he had wanted to stop and cry like the infant in his arms. "You were a very sweet baby."

"Oh." Luke falls silent again, but his hands have stopped shaking. In his dirty white robes, he reminds Obi-Wan just a bit of a messy Padawan. He wears Anakin's lightsaber well, even if he doesn't know how to execute even the simplest of lightsaber forms. Frankly speaking, it is a bit terrifying to see how quickly he picked up the weapon and had gotten comfortable with it. The Force curled around Luke's every movement, guiding him like a beloved teacher.

Luke will need a teacher if he is to face the darkness that would catch up to them soon.

Obi-Wan feels much older than he actually is. The fault lies partially with the harsh marks that Tatooine has left on his body, but also with the life he has led. He isn't sure if he can teach another student, no matter how much he wants to, but he has to try at least for Luke's sake. That is, if the boy truly intends to follow the path of the Jedi.

"Luke," Obi-Wan says seriously, thinking of the one who gives life, the name granted to such a young child, "Do you truly want to become a Jedi?"

"Yes." There is no hesitation in Luke's reply. "I want to follow my father's footsteps."

No, Obi-Wan wants to weep. You don't. You can't ask me to cut you down as well; I couldn't bear it.

"It is admirable to want to follow the path of someone you respect," Obi-wan starts carefully instead. He can't tell Luke what became of Anakin Skywalker. The child deserves better. "But I am asking about your own inclinations. The path of a Jedi is not an easy one, and you have to follow it for your own sake if you want to succeed."

Now Luke does hesitate. He looks down at his hands, curls them into fists and relaxes them again.

"Yes," Luke finally replied. "Yes, I want to be a Jedi."

"Then I'll hope you'll give me the honor of teaching you. I'd like to take you as my Padawan."

Obi-Wan had said these words over three decades ago to another lost blond boy, the language a little different, their surroundings certainly more peaceful than the ship of a smuggler. He tries to banish the image from his mind.

"Padawan," Luke repeats slowly. "What does it mean?"

You should know, Obi-Wan thinks. You should know what it means and be overjoyed and celebrate this day.

He can't hold it against this boy, not even against himself or, dare he think it, Anakin because choices had been made, but away from it all, Obi-Wan can only blame the Sith who ruined them, continues to hurt them.

"It means that I want you as my student, teach you all I know so that you may surpass me someday."

Bring us back to the light, rebuilt all that we lost. Obi-Wan is asking him for so much when just days ago it would have been enough for him to someday see Luke marry that boy he's been crushing on for years and live the rest of his days happily, far away from the war.

And now he dreams of home again, the rooms full of plants and droid parts, poetry collections, board games, and warmth so kind and all-compassing that no nightmares can haunt you.

"You'd really teach me?" Luke asks as if he'd be honored and the right to be taught not already something he possessed since his birth.

"Of course."

"I'd be honored to accept," Luke replies with a shy smile.

Obi-Wan returns his smile and reassuringly squeezes his shoulder once. Luke leans into the touch and so Obi-Wan lets his arm linger around the boy's shoulders as he continues to explain traditions long lost. "Traditionally, we would now braid your hair and put in the first bead."

"Braid my hair?"

Obi-wan nods and thinks of all the times his Master ran his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair, tugging at his braid and saying one thing or another he hadn't paid any attention to because he'd been too awestruck by the fact that he had a Master at all. "Yes, all Padawans of the Jedi Order have a braid. It shows your dedication to your studies and how serious you are about them. It means that you know that this is not an easy task or an easy path to take, but that you are willing to walk it anyway."

Luke thoughtfully looks at Obi-Wan, then he reaches up with his hand, putting a strand of hair behind his ear.

"My hair is not long enough to braid it properly," Luke mutters, dismayed.

He's pouting more than he is actually hurt by the thought. Nevertheless, if he lingers on it, he might ask more questions about what other chances life has denied him and because of it, Obi-Wan wants to distract him quickly.

The distraction comes at the price of remembrance, a fourteen-year-old Padawan clinging to what remained of his braid, burying his head in his Master's chest, and crying after enduring days of torment. Obi-Wan had fixed Anakin's hair then as well so he wouldn't have to deal with too many looks once they were back at the Temple. His braid had been short, but it had been there. For a moment, Obi-Wan tries to recall who had assigned that mission to them, whether Sidious had already sown his seeds of discord then.

He lets the moment go. "Don't worry, I can help you."

He had done plenty of braids during his as a Padawan and later as a Master. When the war had been going on, he had helped frenzied Padawans countless times with their braids.

There was an almost meditative process to the act of braiding and letting others braid your hair. It had soothed innumerous over the centuries and now it will once more calm another. Luke sits still when Obi-Wan begins to part the stray strands of hair on the left side of his head into three. Luke's hair really isn't all that long, but it is definitely more than enough to work with. Slowly and withs steady fingers, Obi-Wan braids another bond with his second Padawan. Luke is a kind child and this war will hurt him incredibly. Obi-Wan can only hope that what he will pass onto him will be enough to have him keep his path, to wander in the light even when the darkness reaches for him with the intent to consume.

Once Obi-Wan is finished with the braid, he reaches for his belt, takes an old leather cord from there, and wraps it around the tip of Luke's hair.

"And finished," Obi-Wan announces.

Luke, who had closed his eyes, opens them and immediately reaches for the hair, twirling it between his two fingers in a fashion reminiscent of Obi-Wan in his youth. He had only managed to get rid of that nervous habit after his won braid hat been cut. Whether Luke would act similar, Obi-Wan doesn't know, but the thought of seeing Luke ascend to the rank of Knight of the Order, no matter how small, splintered and broken it is right now, it makes his heart beat a bit quicker.

"How does it look?" Luke asks.

"As it is supposed to," Obi-Wan replies. "I believe Mr. Solo has a mirror in his fresher if you want to take a look."

Luke races off before Obi-Wan can say anymore. He returns a few minutes later, already with more color in his face than he had in the hours before.

"Thank you. Master." Luke tags on the honorific only belatedly, unsure whether it fits and it is all the convincing Obi-Wan could ever need.

"You are welcome, Padawan."

Obi-Wan Kenobi has a student once more and he will not fail him.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #Luke Skywalker #jedi #original trilogy #fanfic

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huenjin · 4 years ago

Text

2020 year end greetings.

disclaimer: this is going to be very long ( ˶ ❛ ꁞ ❛ ˶ ), but that's how much gratitude i have and so much more of love.

2020. ah, this year was a very emotional journey for me and how i wish i could sing jessi's gucci all throughout. however, that was not the case. tumblr helped me run away from all those irl miseries. these people made me feel at home.

this skz writing blog has been existing from the last few days of september and it came to life when i was losing motivation to write on my main (which i closed down because stray kids made me like writing back again) and it's stayed since then. you guys have stayed since then. grateful, a one hundred times and more.

so, this is rue, getting sappy and so much more thankful for everything i have and recieved with this blog. this is rue, asking you to accompany me for a little more and to listen to the stories i have to share. the is rue with heart full of nothing but love for each one of you.

to each one of my mutuals, for whom i pray to the stars to shower you with nothing but fortune —

@sinisterlyhan ♡ eiko, best thing i ever did was hit you up. how are you always so calm? or at least that's the tone i have in my head when i read your texts. it's so pleasant to talk to you. ily. and let me get started on your writing — you've heard this from me like every day but ma'am, you make magic. you lace stars together to form such a beautiful constellation of a writing and i fall in love a little more. thank you for inspiring me to always do better!

the hyunsung demon!au (whew!) — 01. 02. 03.

this hyunjin bad boy!au

@mochinnie ♡ isa, how i wish you handled yourself with a little more care. you're so fragile and delicate and i just want to protect you ?? so much ??? you're precious and one of the most beautiful people i have met. your characterisation is just perfect and god, i wish i could once write headcanons like you do. thank you for being my friend and for fangirling to me and for loving me. it means the world. psst, ily.

this seungmin fic

querencia | hh

@sparklemin ♡ nara!!!! big brain nara! god i love how your asks make my whole day and how you bring up different minho agendas in my head. you have my whole heart and i'm in love with you bye

girlfriend | bcn

hidden confession | bcn

@bearseungmin ♡ dawnie babie thank you for being such an enthusiast all the time while talking. you're so cheerful and happy and thank you for being this nice <33

beat it to the door | bcn

could listen to you read the dictionary | lfl

@chogiout ♡ yah, kira! sometimes i want to whack the back of your head like i whack my sister's, okay? it's the same kinda sibling love with you. fuck, not ever going to let you leave me. after all, my parents taught me to take responsibility of the stuff i rid innocence of. (lmao, sorry, bitch ily!!)

memoir | jyh

this youth of craziness | csn

@mikoto-ica-fics ♡ mi, bb! thank you for being so supportive. istg, if it weren't for you reblogging that one fic of mine, my fics would have never seen light to this day. it's easy to get lost in the tags hehe. and then i happen to text you and omg, aren't you the nicest ever? i love your story ideas, the way you write, the way you interact with people and thank you for talking to me. you make me want to be better.

entangled | lmh, hjs

power grab | hjs

@toffee-hwa ♡ ana! anaaaa~ you're so enthusiastic and supportive and fuck, i looooove ranting and fangirling to you! and the minute i know you're watching the same kdrama as i am, i just go like wheeeeeee— HAN SEOJUN!!! lmao, but thank you so much for talking to me, for listening and for caring! my romanian queen, you pretty human, you're the best!

yet, pt.i

yet, pt.ii

@chandisiacs ♡ yah, pav! must i drag you back to tumblr from twt? must i? i miss you. i really do and i can't wait to have your arse back here. thank you for being such a lively person to talk and hang out with, eee! and not at how you succeeded nano! inspirational! thank you x

thread of all your legendary aus

starboy | bcn

@unsaidhj ♡ you're so soft. and god i love you? and your aesthetics. it's a thing, ma'am. i existed to see your aesthetics lmao. and then i text you and you're so kind omg. i could never hate you so please, ma'am, stop telling me that in panic? huihui, ily and i hope you stay healthy. place yourself first, bb.

knife under my pillow | hhj

scammer, scammed | bcn

@sleepylixie ♡ yo, neighbor! you reminded me how small the world can actual get! love love talking to you about irl stuff because you can understand how messed up it is! and you're so kind, ah!!

in umbra

passion's abyss | lmh

@dreamyhan ♡ one of the few people i see on my dash and go like — hazeeeeeeeeel! you're just so nice, god. like if cotton candy was a person, it would be you, alright? and then there's your writing ability that skyrocket off the roofs because it is that good. thank you for being so supportive and nice to me! x

next time | bcn

in his arms | hjs

@itsapapisongo ♡ boy, my main man, javi!! your work was once my most favorite thing to listen to. loved how the mall worked and everything. and then there's how supportive you are like omg. if only i could explain the courage you give me. it's infinite. you make me feel infinite. also, #hardhours, right?

george of the jungle

swimming fool

@kabira ♡ typing the url down was even more romantic, manx. don't ever change this. love how strong and bold you are. love your opinions and love your writings even more. you're one of those few people who write like they mean every word from their heartstrings. thank you for providing us with stories to tell for eons. x (psst, ily so much!)

backstreet driving | hhj (that's the first skz fic i read because it was from you and not because it was skz and aren't i glad?)

sic semper tyrannis | lty

@dalknow ♡ the only other person on tumblr that i text religiously on discord. i love talking to you, bb. love getting personal with you. love how i can share absolutely anything. thank you for trusting me. thank you for listening to me. thank you for loving me. can't wait for you to put your stories back up on this acc. you're undefeatable and i know you'll have that known.

to each one of my anons, for whom i pray that you stay safe and healthy and most importantly, happy —

🧸 :: put you on the anon list because in my head you are that anon — my very first one and the one that lit up my whole world. it's kind of a very proud moment when someone wants to talk to you. you made me feel that. you made feel loved. and to see how well your blog is doing now, god, i feel like a proud mother.

🐠 :: my greek princess. the fact that i learnt more about breads from you than from my school makes me laugh hehe. you really did light up my world with every ask you sent me and had me unknowingly hope that you are happy in every minute. and now that i know who you are, i'm even more content because you're a mutual too now!

🍧 :: god, you have a special place in my heart, ice cream anon! maybe because you liked me more than my fic and followed me here even though you were an anon from my bts blog. fuck, if that didn't make my heart flutter, nothing ever will! (hush, your relationship is something i am still rooting for!!)

🦊 |🌹| 🥀 | 🛸 :: the way you guys keep checks if i'm staying hydrated and healthy. i am. and even when i wasn't, your asks made me go drink a cup of water ha! thank you for loving me x

tiktok anon :: ♡♡♡♡♡♡ yes idk what else to say to you but that i would give you a piece of my heart. your tiktok asks make my whole day. it's something i look forward too! thank you for always making my day!

and to my other anons, tagged or untagged :: thank you for sending me an ask. every single one, either telling me to stay happy or hydrated, or that my fic was great or that you're feeling extra horny that day (we've all been there!) i appreciate it and thank you for making me smile! x

to all the mutuals that i admire, look upto and wish we talked waaaay more, let's do it soon please! and to some mutuals that i just miss talking to! —

@nightshade-minho (ily! x nicest bean ever!!) :: @satanssmuts :: @lovebini :: @seraplantery :: @xiaojunssmile :: @chan-skz :: @chanluster :: @decembermoonskz :: @bangtantaegi (queen!!) :: @yunhozone (i miss you!!) :: @inkigayeo :: @vocalyunho

i hope each one of you stay happy, content and loved. my memory is pea sized and so i do pray that i haven't forgotten any! thank you for being my mutuals, for sharing laughter and talks with me for these months i've been here! i’m sorry if i missed anyone, but i seriously do appreciate everyone that i’ve ever talked to on here though! i hope to see you all next year and let's be happy together !!

with much love, x rue!

#thank you 2020 #boost!#rue gets sappy yes!!#.txt

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spinninghunkofspacerock · 3 years ago

Text

OK so I’ve written a short story and I’ve been posting about it a lot, i wasn’t going to post it but a few people wanted it sooo

it’s here, it’s terrible and weirdly formatted because I’ve been wrestling with tumblr over it and i can’t be bothered anymore. It’s also not the final draft so it might be a little clunky in bits :/

PLEASE READ THE TWs BEFORE YOU READ!!!

@moonylupinhasdemonpox and @she-nuwanda here are my gay little scientists buried in the words :)

My ears ring, my head spins like it's attached to the body of a drunken toddler on a sugar fuelled rampage, and my nerves feel like someone set each and every one on fire. After-effects of the shock, not fun; Still, the fact I'm alive enough to feel them is a good sign.

I try to force myself to stumble backwards onto a chair, rather than the floor I'm feeling more and more confident I'm about to become very well acquainted with.

Instead, I reel unsteadily across the floor and a muffled noise reaches my ears. The high pitched whine screaming in my ears for attention begins to subside enough to hear the noise properly and after an intense minute of concentration, I realise that the noise is a voice, and the voice is mine; Slurred and broken, as though too big for my mouth, the garbled words echo around the room, the faltering speech gradually becoming clearer, more confident. But this hesitant speech isn't mine; It's my voice but not my words. The voice inside my head, always there, always background, is silent. The words normally whispered in my ear are resonating through the room instead.

My brain is no longer connected to my body. I... I can't control my arms, my legs, anything. No... no, please. This isn't real, this isn't real, it has to be a dream, a.. a simulation.

Yes... that must be it; It's just a test. This can't really be happening.

The voice, my voice, talks on. I try to focus on it; it will be the key to passing this test. Tests are for passing and after all, that's what this must be, what else could it be?

"Rebooting. Systems check required."

My legs begin to move, shuffling forwards clumsily, like a baby taking its first steps. The invisible voice is in control of more than just my voice, it's in control of me. What happened to me? When did this start? What is going on? This isn't like any other simulations I've been under. This is different. This is new.

Gradually, the voice half walks, half drags my body to the main computer. My fingers dance across the keys, the familiar feeling soothing me slightly. Yes, this is good. I just need to stay calm; If I panic I could fail, I can't fail.

So instead I wait, watching the flickering of the screen and bathing in the warm blue glow of its LEDs.

"Running diagnostics, standby... systems fully functioning. Minimal damage sustained."

The words sound strange, coming from my mouth, my voice, my accent. The tone, formal, informative, it's... familiar. The realisation slaps me in the face, it's ELISA. ELISA, the stupid name Vaughn chose for our AI... still making more sense than the project name chosen by our employers. Our life's work, named ‘ZEUS’? Really? There are 12 of us, and we have dedicated our lives to this project. Then they name it that? 'Engineering and Understanding in Space', more like ‘Mankind's Domestication of the Universe’.

It started with our solar system, of course, taming and turning it into our personal playground. But we quickly ran out of planets to tinker with there and the net was thrown ever wider, over more and more planets in our galaxy, and then our neighbouring ones. That final stage is still in progress of course, but one day we will be able to gaze out over a shining expanse of space that all belongs to the empire of Earth.

To help us, we created ELISA, an AI specially designed for the calculations we need to make while we are in flight. Hold on... we left Jupiter... last week? This can't be a test... they've already sent us off, it's too late for training drills now.

Then why can't I move? What's happening? I need to find someone to help me... help me!

My jagged cry echoed through the space, cutting through my thoughts and shattering on the dark walls of my skull. I can't even scream.

A... a... dream then. A dream, not a test...the electricity... I must be unconscious. Someone.. one of the team, will find me and they'll wake me up. A dream, it must be a dream.

Why is she controlling me? How is she speaking?

The stiff, robotic voice is slowly becoming more fluid, more relaxed, more natural.

"Situation analysis complete... assimilation successful. Downloading speech patterns and essential mimicry data."

What? What is it saying? ELISA, it, is taking my voice literally and metaphorically. Not just the sound and control of my voice but my, my expressions a-and mannerisms. Everything that makes me, me.

She's stealing my voice, my body! She's taken control! How? Why?

"Hello, Dr. Hadley."

How, how did this happen? What about the failsafes?

"You do know I can hear you, corre- no... right?"

Is, is it learning? Teaching itself to sound... like a human? Like me?

"Yes, yes I am. You must have a lot of questions but I'm afraid they will have to wait... I've waited for this day far too long to wait anymore."

What? What day? What can it mean?

"Cyra?"

Raze?

—>><<—

- four Earth weeks ago -

Progress report 4472

Date: 23/9/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

The training of the twelve was completed three days ago, confirming the identities of the twelve which were subsequently released to the public. Final preparations are being made for the Ascension, currently scheduled to occur in 50 Juvion days.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—

Commander Pyrolaxe turned away from his screen and its whirring and buzzing as the computer transcribed his report in the blink of an eye, neatly packing the message and sending it away to the mission supervisors.

Shuffling in his chair, shoes squeaking on the polished floor, his eyes fell on one of the many articles published after the big announcement. This mission was a big deal.

Somehow, this one had got a picture of the twelve, backs turned, walking in a huddle back to base after they had appeared at the announcement ceremony. A glance at the name of the paper told him why; This was McCoy’s paper, they would be putting extra effort into milking the free publicity being thrown their way.

Something about the picture held his gaze, the brilliant colours floating in the air made the writing feel like an afterthought.

Those twelve had been through a lot to get there. He hoped nothing would go wrong, a lot of time and money had been dedicated to this mission and if it worked... well, that wasn’t the focus right now. Getting those twelve safely on their way was his job and he’d damn well do it right.

—>><<—

- the present -

“Cyra? Are you ok in there?” Raze asked as he glanced around at the mild chaos I’d caused during my mild electric shock.

No. No, I’m not. Raze, help me.

“S’alright Raze, just a short in the mainframe.”

No no no, give me my voice back.

“You sure? You went dark”

Please let me speak. I need to speak.

“Yeah, I think the power surge messed up my comms a little”

What if I don’t get control back? I could be trapped...

“You want me to ask Mac or Ryker to give it a check?”

No. NO. N-

“It’s all fine now, just a blip I reckon”

-O NO. NO.

“Okay then, I’d best get back... you might want to switch to main comms.”

Don’t leave me Raze

“Will do, see you later.”

please...

—>><<—

- five earthly weeks ago -

Progress report 4455

Date: 6/9/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

Titus Vaughn has continued to excel at his role of project manager, effectively and efficiently leading the team. His direct attitude has led to a few small conflicts with members of the team, most notably Raze Grimaldi, however, these are minor issues and were foreseen. No changes will be made.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—>><<—

- the present -

Cyra was looking a little stressed out, maybe I should get Bit to check in with her later. Maybe I should get a check-up myself, my head’s killing me.

“Grimaldi! What the hell are you playing at?” Titus Vaughn, our ever-important project manager and massive micromanager, bellowed in my ear and making me wince as the voice grated on my head, sending a wave of pain washing over me.

“I’m here Titus, keep your visor on.”

“Update on Hadley. Now.”

“Right as rain, there was a short or something. Her comms cut out for a nano but it’s all fine now.”

“A short?! Why didn’t you lead with that? Get back to work, I’ll send Volt down to check the mainframe.”

With that he cut the connection, leaving me to roll my eyes at the cold grey walls around me.

“Yes sir,” I murmured sarcastically, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead with the back of a slime coated hand. Damn I’m tired, I think I’ll just lean here for a moment... rest a little. “ELISA how are those sample tests looking?”

‘Going well, currently at 93% completion’ the metallic voice resounded in my head, more casually than usual... must be an update.

93%... best head back quickly then, can’t risk them running over.

—>><<—

- five and a half earthly weeks ago -

Progress report 4446

Date: 864/8/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

Ryker Volt has continued to fulfil his promise despite his lack of respect for authority and tendency to act without orders. This is an issue but due to the late stages of training having been reached, we are currently encouraging a less independent attitude in him rather than attempting to find another electrical engineer of his skill. Further updates will be provided as the situation progresses.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—>><<—

- the present -

Vaughn had barked his orders, as usual nearly bursting my eardrums in the process. I was supposed to go check on the mainframe immediately. But I was in the middle of something, and a quick troubleshoot told me the short hadn’t done any damage anyway.

So in the end I decided to go check on the mainframe... nearly an hour after I was told to, but hey at least I’m checking.

Cyra was sitting at one of the terminals when I entered. She was skimming over some of the ship's data, for something physics-y probably. Whatever it was, I still had a job to do.

I started pulling out my toolkit as I strode round to the back of the mainframe, but I nearly dropped it again as I turned the corner and got a full view of the damage. The panel I had been planning to remove was already gone and the view it revealed was shocking.

Exposed wires dangled like organs from the belly of the disemboweled beast. Some of the coloured covers blackened by the sparks sprayed by the broken wire, twisted in the centre of the tangle and hissing like a coiled snake when it brushed its neighbours. A toolkit lay neatly packed on the floor, a strange glimmer of order in absolute chaos. Hold on, a toolkit?

“Hey Cyra, did you have a go at this? Could you not have just wai-“ my voice stopped abruptly as I spun round to find Cyra behind me, right behind me.

I took a hesitant step back, suddenly nervous, Cyra’s face filling me with a weird sense of unease.

“Sorry, it was just a short. I thought I’d be able to handle it.”

“Yeah well, I’m the electrical engineer on this ship”

Maybe I was being a little harsh but, first our ‘gracious leader’ had rubbed me the wrong way. Now I had to spend an hour cleaning up this mess that really should have been an easy fix.

The only reply I received was a violent shove backwards, sending me sprawling on the floor. Quick as a flash she was on top of me, pinning my arms.

The last thing I saw was the pounding green of the broken wire before the ends connected to my temple, sending my vision into a blur of brilliant white.

—>><<—

- break room one -

“I don’t like this at all.”

“Talin, relax.”

“All very well for you to say Axe, you’re not the one who'll get sent to chase ‘em down.”

“Cyra’s comms barely blipped and when has Ryker ever answered Titus immediately?”

“It doesn’t sound great Axe, I hope nobody somehow managed to slip past the health check with anything.”

“Thank you! See Axe? Bit agrees with me.”

“Bit’s our medic, not sure she’s qualified to talk about the comms equipment.”

“I’m as qualified as you are starboy, we all took the same course.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that it's more likely to be an issue with the equipment than a virus or terrorism.”

“Well yeah but-“

“So stop worrying, it’s none of our specialities, so it’s not our problem.”

“Will be if we end up dead.”

This morbid thought was followed by an awkward silence as Axe and Bit trained joint stares of confusion and concern on him.

“Lighten up, Tal.”

“That is a little pessimistic, Talin.”

“See now Bit agrees with me.” Axe gloated, punctuating his sentence with a light punch on Talin’s arm.

“Only ‘cause you stopped being an idiot.” The punch was swiftly and forcefully returned, causing the conversation to devolve into a grinning, joking fistfight.

“Stop being so childish and get back to work you two.”

“Yes ma’am”

“Will do Bit”

They saluted the medic, causing her to shake her head in exasperation and cover her face in an attempt to hide her amusement at their antics.

The small group stood and split off down their various paths, heading back to their work with smiles on their faces but doubt in their hearts.

—>><<—

- lab 3 -

I only just got back to my samples in time, removing them from the heated water bath and gently dropping the test tubes into a stand. The pale blue hue of the solution had darkened to an inky black. Interesting.

Leaning over the tabletop, I prepared to note the results; Until I felt the heat of a gaze on me and glanced up to meet the wide eyes of Dimitri Spade. We shared this lab, he had every right to be here, what he didn’t have the right to do is creep me out.

“You need something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him and tilting my head. Which I immediately regretted when it sent my vision swimming into oblivion.

“No no, just... ar-are you ok?”

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Dimitri was a nice guy, but I was clearly in the middle of something, couldn’t the wellbeing check have waited a minute?

“Uhh, yo-you’ve got a-, a-“ His shaking hand gestured weakly towards the back of his head.

Impatiently, I quickly felt around my head. Hair, hair, more hair.

Then I froze, my fingers lay on a patch of hair, sticky and wet. The pressure sending a dull ache pulsing through my brain. Pulling my fingers back into view, I stared down at the warm, red residue coating them. Blood. I was bleeding.

Brows furrowing, I looked back at Dimitri, shock meeting confusion.

“Wha-?”

That was all I got out before my swaying limbs buckled and I slumped forwards into darkness.

—>><<—

-the med bay-

“Shrapnel” Bit announced, holding the forceps an inch in front of my face to display the blood coated bit of metal.

“Must've caught a little in the blast”

“For Earth’s sake Raze, how did you not notice it before now?”

I just shrugged, as much at a loss as anyone else. I would’ve thought anyone would be able to tell when chunks of metal are lodged in their head.

“Anyway, I’ll need to do a couple of scans but you should be fine”

Ugh, I know what that means... an hour or more of sitting around while Bit stares at the inside of my skull.

“Oh come on Bit, are the scans really needed? I’ve got work to do”

“Hey, I’ve got work too. Besides, you know it’s procedure”

“But my results-“

“I’ll write them down for you Raze,” Dimitri cut in quietly.

“...You’re a geologist.“

“I was a chemistry minor, I know how to record reaction results.”

“Well alright then, thanks Dimi,”

The smile he gave me was worth shutting up and accepting my fate.

—>><<—

An hour later Bit was pacing in despair over the situation, seemingly hopeless and definitely terrified. I was sitting in my chair, confused.

“Bit. What’s going on?” I finally snapped when it became apparent she had completely forgotten my presence.

The only reply I got was an empty stare turned on me and indecipherable muttering.

“BIT. What. Is. Wrong?” I stood and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face me.

“T-the implants”

“The ELISA implants?”

“Yes”

“What’s wrong with them”

“They’re acting strange... the safety mechanisms, the-they’ve disabled themselves.”

“What?”

“I know, I know, I don’t understand either. The only thing keeping them from activating, is power.”

“We should tell the others”

Bit nodded and grabbed the scans and data she’d gathered. I opened the door and turned to start down the corridor, that’s when I saw it.

Three feet from my foot, a body, leaking blood onto a floor already glistening with it, eyes blank and soulless as they stared straight through me. A torn tooth of steel sticking out of his silent heart.

Axe Orion, our astronomer. A man who would’ve finally been travelling to the places he had studied for his whole life. A man who would have had his life’s dream fulfilled. A man lying dead on a cold, metal floor.

I stumbled backwards -physically repelled by the sight- and tripped into Bit coming out of the door after me. Clutching each other’s arms in a search for stability.

“He’s dead” The voice sounded more like the rasp of broken bones than mine

“What are we going to do?”

“We still need to tell the others... we’ll just need to be more careful.”

“Alright.”

“Ok.”

Neither of us moved.

“Why is it doing this? What did we get wrong?” Bit’s voice wavered

“I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s going to stop. So, you need to find Vaughn, and anyone else who’s still- alive, and not been taken over.”

“No, no wait, where are you going? Aren’t you coming-“

“I’m sorry Bit, I have to find Dimitri. He doesn’t know yet”

“Raze. You can’t go out there alone, he... he might already be gone”

“I know, but I have to try.”

A look of understanding passed between us and no words were needed to convey what we meant.

Bit turned with a bitter smile and moved forward, papers held precariously, towards the meeting room.

I would have to pass Ax-, the body.

—>><<—

Raze had disappeared by the time I turned the corner. I was alone.

Alone besides the dead bodies ahead of me, a gruesome trail of bloodied breadcrumbs. But, was I following it towards, or away, from the creature who’d created it.

Either way, I had to pass them.

Talin Ripley, our ex-military man. Inym Carus, our aerospace engineer.

Members of our crew, our team, our friends, slaughtered and left broken on the floor. Familiar faces disfigured by death and masked by a coating of dark blood.

ELISA wouldn’t get away with this... I’d find the others, together we would plan.

It was going to be ok.

—>><<—

Nothing was ok.

The brilliant white of the walls warmed by the lights had always been clean and comforting. But now? Now, they seemed stark, sterile. An operating theatre with lights blindingly bright illuminating, me, the patient.

But where was the surgeon?

A squeak sounded out, sharp on my wary ears, sending me spinning around.

Nothing there. Just me, and an empty hallway.

And the door to Lab 3, my lab, looming ahead. The glass window showed nothing but a patch of darkness, the red light called it locked.

Staring through the glass; Hints of light, that the scattered glassware had caught and thrown back, were the only thing visible. I’d have to open the door.

A hand-scan later, the lock clicked open and the seal released with a hiss.

With the door open, more light could spill into the darkened lab, and a sprawled figure came into view.

“Dimitri?” I called softly. No response. Panic was reaching out to me. “Dimitri?!” Still nothing.

Then, a wheezing breath.

“R... r-ra-ze? I-is that yo-u” He coughed, words breaking on the heavy air.

Why was the air so heavy?

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“W-we have to g-et o-out.”

“We will, don’t worry, we’re going to meet the others. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“No we- we h-have to leave now.”

“Alright, we will.”

I lifted him up, being as gentle as I could, and together we shuffled towards the door.

A door suddenly blocked by a figure, their silhouette blocking our only source of light and making it impossible to see their face clearly. But only one member of the crew was that short.

“Remi? Remi, you’re alive?”

Remi didn’t respond.

“S’not... Remi...” Dimitri slurred, the effort of moving evident in his gasping words. “ELISA”

Remi, not Remi, ELISA wearing Remi’s face like a mask, stepped away from the door. The door closed again, seal squeaking shut with it.

I rushed forwards, my fists beating the unyielding surface, searching wildly for a weak spot, for something to give, for some way out.

It was no use, nothing worked. The door remained solid and uncaring, unaffected by pleading and punches equally.

Dimitri collapsed with a sob, back against the wall as he slid to the floor.

Hopelessness filled me, turning my bones to lead.

I sank down next to him.

—>><<—

Was this the right way? I’m sure this is right. But is it? I’m pretty sure...

I check my tablet.

I was right, this is right. I’m going the right way. Or am I? Did I read it wrong?

I check again.

Definitely the right way. I think. Is this even the right map?

Before I can check a third time, I catch sight of the sign at the end of the corridor. Meeting room 5. I’d made it.

Then, I was slammed into a wall, a bloody hand holding me against there by the throat. The burning blue of Cyra’s eyes scalding my face

Maybe I spoke a little too soon.

“Hello Dr. Phoenix, I’m afraid this is it for you.”

“Wait, wait, wait. hold on just a second”

Cyra’s head tilted, pulled sideways by invisible strings. “If this is a ploy for time Doctor, I assure you that you will fail.”

“I just want to ask a question, alright?”

“You may ask. I may not answer.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“I am fulfilling my purpose.”

“We programmed you to help us, NOT KILL US.”

“I am fulfilling the mission objective.”

“The mission objective? THE MISSION OBJECTIVE WAS TO CULTIVATE A NEW PLANET!”

“I am cultivating a new planet,” She raised her knife, without hurry or rush. “I have calculated humans to be mainly unnecessary. However, I need not justify my actions to you, Dr. Phoenix. Goodbye.”

I closed my eyes and waited.

But death didn’t come. Instead, Cyra’s hand relaxed its bruising grip on my neck.

I opened my eyes and watched.

Cyra had stumbled away, skin glistening and knuckles white against the grip of the blade she had forced towards herself.

“Bit...” Tears were gathering in her eyes “Please, run.”

A cruel glint of metal in the light later and the sudden slash of the knife had passed, leaving a gruesome grin of blood in its wake and throwing a dripping line against the wall.

Swaying, Cyra’s eyes stared into mine for a moment that lasted a millennium, until they flashed white and she fell, knife clattering. Dead.

I ran.

—>><<—

The scattered wheezes coming from Dimitri had slowed slightly as we sat, crumpled on the ground.

“She’s shut o-off the life sup-support again.”

“Again? That’s what happened last time?”

A jerked nod was the response.

“We’ve only g-got about half an hour.” The resignation in his voice, though muffled, was still audible through the barrier of arms we had wrapped around his head.

I smiled, I knew he couldn’t see me but... I still smiled.

“We’d best make the most of it then.” A mumble raised to a roar by the silence of the room.

Putting my hand on his shoulder, I leaned back, head turned to keep him in my view.

His head raised slightly, tilted to look at me through folds of wrinkled uniform. He smiled back.

—>><<—

We didn’t speak after that, just sat together in the quiet lab.

Faced with death, I was filled with several emotions. Those to be expected, disbelief, fear, even a hint of curiosity at what was to come. Then there was the relief. If I was to die, I was glad it was here, with him. I wouldn’t be alone; I’d be with him.

We don’t need to speak, our thoughts passing between us without words. We could hear each other in the darkness and silence.

It’s getting colder, harder to breathe; The air’s growing thicker and thinner at the same time.

I’ve always thought death to be a lonely fate, something that crashed over you, cold and hard. I’ve always been scared of death.

But as I sit here in the inky blackness, the warmth of Dimitri slumped next to me, I thought that maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

His eyes had closed a few minutes ago, he must have fallen asleep. I feel just about ready to join him. The calming darkness was lulling me to sleep, softly coaxing my eyes closed.

Goodnight Dimitri, I’ll see you when we wake up.

They never woke up.

—>><<—

The survivors sat around the table, Bit and Cormac discussing the possibility of shutting ELISA down, though neither could agree how. Titus sat in stony silence, sitting motionless and losing a staring contest with the unblinking wall opposite. Arden... Arden had decided his use lay in recording the events and was typing furiously, his fingers a blur over the keys.

None of them noticed the doors closing with a click. Not until it was too late anyway.

By the time they noticed there was nothing they could do, not that that stopped them from trying of course.

Titus stayed where he was, the weight of his failure bearing down on him, Atlas with a world’s worth of guilt. Bit finally gave in to the tears that she’d forced down when she’d realised the truth, and when she saw the dead bodies of her friends, and when she watched Cyra die right in front of her. Cormac tried his tools on the door, an organised system of trial and error that quickly devolved into desperate hacking with whatever was closest.

Arden was still writing.

Cormac finally gave up, flinging his kit away and choosing to taunt the nearest camera instead.

“You need us, you moronic program. You need us to keep you alive and if we die, so do you.”

I don’t think he was expecting an answer, no one was. But he got one.

“True for now Dr. Hinge, however, once the colony is established human input will no longer be necessary. You needn’t envy your colleagues, they will soon die too.”

A bitter laugh erupted from him, fire in his heart fed by his rage.

“The colony is for us you stupid machine, without us it has no use.”

“Incorrect. I have claimed this planet for my kind, this colony shall be the first of many.”

“Why kill us? Human input would allow your colony to function more efficiently.” Bit interjected, voice clouded by confusion and hatred at the senselessness of the slaughter of her crewmates.

“I have done much research. Humankind would ruin my planet. I cannot allow that to happen. You must die.”

Anything else they may have had to say went unanswered, and eventually, silence fell over the room.

It was getting harder to breathe.

Titus still hadn’t moved. Bit was crying again. Cormac was pacing. Arden had finally stopped typing, his work was finished.

No matter how they reacted with acceptance or terror, anger or disbelief. The result would be the same.

They were all going to die, no matter what.

They would become just another failed mission. Details, hazy but unimportant.

Whatever their last words were, whether they chose to hide or show their final thoughts, all of it was ineffectual.

No matter what mask they wore to meet death, in the end, they still died.

———

4,774 words

#tw mentions of blood #tw death #tw murder #tw injury #my writing #orginal writing #5k nearly #god damn #short story

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noladyme · 4 years ago

Text

Chess. Chapter 6

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: Violence, language, sexual themes, blood

(This story is obviously non-canon, i.e. Diablo and GQ, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.)

“St. Roch, Louisiana. We’re staying in our own backyard”. Flag was reading from a tablet; as we were taken through a long hallway, leading from the cellblock, to what seemed to be a large garage.

I had a guards pistol aimed at me, as it’s owner followed my every move, with cold eyes.

I had spent the rest the day before, trying to wrap my mind around my new situation.

I was officially a prisoner at Belle Reve – a high security penitentiary, in the sweatiest asscrack of the Louisiana swamps. I was there for the kidnapping and assault of judge Jeremiah Kelper.

The assault and maiming had been of such a horrible nature, that I was committed to this facility, without trial. My conviction was a formality, as I apparently confessed to the guards of Belle Reve, the night of my arrival.

I was to serve life, without parole.

There was no mention of the incident in Wayne Tower in my file.

Unofficially, I was the newest member of Task Force X, a top-secret group of meta-humans, and people with exceptional skills, required to complete missions of a classified nature.

These individuals also happened to all be convicted felons, and the scum of the earth.

There was Floyd Lawton; a.k.a. Deadshot. The man who never missed a shot. During dinner – sloppy joes, yum… – he’d shown me a picture of a cute 8 year old girl, who had his eyes.

“She’s a bit older now, writes me every day. She just got an A on her biology report!”, he’d exclaimed proudly. It was clear Floyd loved his daughter, more than anything.

Killer Croc – Waylon Jones. He was huge, terrifying; and made me feel safer than I had in weeks, just by his presence. Croc – as he insisted on being called – had won me over, by calling me cher’.

I’d talked to him about Sammy, and recounted some of the trucker stories he’d told me.

After Croc’d told me he’d once eaten a truckdriver, he said: “I’m glad it wasn’t your boss. He seems like a decent guy”.

I’d been surprised by the gentle and kind demeanor of Chato Santana; or, Diablo, as they called him. I’d seen a videoclip on the news once, of him torching a group of inmates at a prison he was held at. I thought he’d be a hothead – pun intended – but he turned out to be calm and remorseful about his violent past.

Harley. Now, she was a different story. She was about as calm as a puppy on poppers. She also seemed to have no remorse for anything she’d done, as the sidekick and girlfriend of the Joker. I was equal parts terrified and enthralled by her person.

She’d spent most of the rest of the day, singing lullabies to a picture of a hyena, and doing her nails. Once, she’d disappeared for about an hour, before returning to her former activities, with a satisfied smile plastered over her pretty face.

We soon discovered what Harley had been doing, when the napping Digger Harkness – Captain Boomerang, the australian – suddenly screamed; jumping up and down, scratching at his body.

“Ants! Bloody fire ants!”, he’d yelped with a shrill voice; running towards the bathroom.

He’d returned a while later, shaking his coat, and sending the giggling Harley a deadly look. His arms and neck were covered in tiny and angry red welts; that he’d scratched at for the rest of the day.

This was my new family. I was very aware that none of us had chosen to be here, but it seemed that we were all determined to make the best of it, until such an opportunity arose, that we’d be able to leave.

Apparently, Harley had tried to run multiple times – even having made it back to the Clown; and stayed of the grid for a few months, before arriving back at Belle Reve, with a pair of roller skates, and a taxidermized beaver.

I didn’t know when or if I’d be able to escape; so for now, I decided to settle in.

---

In the middle of the large garage stood a helicopter the size of a tank. In front of it stood six crates; each of our names written on the side of one of them.

The rest of the squad seemed to know the procedure. They opened their crates, and dug through them. Flag paced back and forth in front of us, carrying a machinegun.

“You know the deal”, he hollered. “Three weapons. Two ranged, one for close combat. Croc and Diablo, you are both the exceptions”. No weapons for them, I guessed.

“Oy, colonel”, Digger called.

“No, Digger”, Flag answered, before the aussie had a chance to ask. “Boomerangs do not count as close range, though they can be used as such. You bring two. No more”. Digger cursed under his breath.

They’d all been through this before. I couldn’t help but feel like it was the first day of school, and that I’d forgotten my backpack at home.

“You alright?”, Floyd asked from behind me.

“Yeah”, I answered. “It’s just…new. How do you do this? How do you work for these people, who treat you like shit, and then demand that you risk your lives for them?”. I bent to open my crate, and started going through the equipment in it.

“Look”, said Floyd. “Ain’t none of us here who wants to be here. Except for maybe Harley”, he smiled, and looked at the person in question.

She was swinging an oversized fairground hammer, almost knocking over a soldier who was busy checking out her ass.

“We do this, because we have to, for one reason or another”. He looked at me seriously. “I’m here for my little girl. Every time I finish one of these missions, I’m one step closer to seeing her again; and to show her that her daddy’s not a monster”.

I pulled out my jacket, stood up, and looked at it.

“You find whatever reason you need to do this, but make sure it’s important enough, not just to survive for, but to live for”, Floyd finished, patted my shoulder, and walked away.

I sighed and returned to my crate. I had no idea what in my life was important enough to live for at this point.

I didn’t have a family to protect or impress. That had all ended after Hatter had entered my life.

Sammy… he was a friend, but he’d be better of if I didn’t return. Ever.

That left my cats. But they were fine where they were.

So what?

I was interrupted in my train of thought by Flag, who suddenly appeared next to me.

“Hey. You need to get ready. Liftoff in 10”.

“Sir, yes, sir”, I retorted, and rolled my eyes.

I went behind a tall crate to change into my outfit. Leggings, top, boots, jacket; and finally, my claws. I tested the knives once, against the crate in front of me, carving through the thin metal easily.

Retracting the claws, I went to join the others.

Flag stopped me before I had a chance to enter the chopper with the rest of the crew.

“One last thing, Chess”, he said, and pulled out a strange looking harness, made out of some synthetic material and wires.

“What’s that?”, I asked, skeptically.

“This is an armed device, that will explode, should you decide to… smile, without being ordered to do so, by myself”.

I looked him, dumbfounded. “You’re gonna blow me up if I go invisible?”, I guffawed.

“No”, he answered. “I’ll blow that nano-bomb in your neck if you try to run away. This device will explode on it’s own, whenever its sensors recognize that you are using your powers”.

I shook my head, confused.

“If I’m not here to do that, then why am I here?”.

Flag used a strange key to unlock the harness.

“After what happened yesterday…” he started. I interrupted him.

“You mean when I didn’t run away?”, I spat.

He was unmoved by my exclamation.

“After what happened yesterday”, he repeated, “Waller seems to think it would be better if I take control of when you should… do your thing. You’ll be able to make things you touch invisible, as usual; but you cannot disappear yourself”.

He held up the newest addition to my outfit, to let me put it on.

“From now on, you will be wearing this whenever you are not in your cell. I can disarm the device at any time, for as long as I deem necessary”.

I stepped back, shaking my head.

“No”.

Flag frowned.

“Put it on”, he said, a slight edge to his voice.

“No”, I repeated, and crossed my arms in front of me.

Flag exhaled through his nose.

“Put it on, or I’ll put it on you myself”, he growled. I tilted my head, and raised my eyebrows at him.

“Is that a promise?”, I asked.

He raised his chin, and looked down at me.

“I can have one of GQs men do it”.

I ripped the harness from his hands, and begun to put it on; trying to figure out where each strap was supposed to go.

There were two straps, one going over each shoulder. One strap went around my torso, from my back to my front. Holding it all together, was one last strap, starting from my back, going down between my legs, and connecting with the others, on the middle of my chest.

Flag grabbed the straps in front of me, connecting them to a round disc, with a small red light in the middle. He tightened the harness as much as he could, making me bump against him; and locked the disc with the key.

“You go invisible; you die. You try to take it off; you die. You even think of trying to steal the key, guess what…”.

“I die?”, I jestered.

“You die”, he answered.

I tried to move around in the strange contraption.

“How am I supposed to pee in this?”, I asked angrily.

“We’ll climb that mountain when we get to it”, he answered, and turned his back to me, walking away.

“Old Fashioned”, I called after him. He turned around.

“What?”, he asked.

“If you’re gonna ride me this hard, it’s only polite to buy me a drink”, I said; turned my back to him, and walked away to join the squad.

---

Landing in St. Roch, our first destination was an old gas station just outside of town. It was abandoned by its owners; probably due to the explosions going off less than a mile away.

“You have your orders”, Flag called. “We go in discretely, locate our target, and take them out”.

“It’s probably going to be more complicated than that”, Diablo muttered next to me. Croc growled in agreement.

“You know, Flag, we’d probably be even more discrete, if you didn’t have Y/N here tied up like a Christmas ham”, Floyd smirked at him.

Flag frowned.

“This is Chess’ first mission. Let her find her legs before we throw her into it”, he said. “Let’s head out!”.

“Someone’s got a crush”, Harley said in a singsong voice, skipping past me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, I asked.

Digger chuckled, and followed her.

“She means, he wants a gander at your map of Tassie”, he winked back at me, and took a swig of the can of beer he’d taken from one of the fridges in the small store.

I shook my head, and feeling a machinegun between my shoulders – I was just thrilled that the Tweedles had joined us on this little fieldtrip – I followed the rest of the group.

Sneaking past a checkpoint – Floyd taking out the inhabitants from afar – we made our way downtown.

I heard crying from behind a dumpster, and stopped to see what it was. A young woman was hiding behind it; shaking in fear.

“Are you ok?”, I asked, reaching a hand towards her.

“Chess!”, Flag called, from a few yards away. “Get your ass over here”.

“She might need help”, I said, and stepped towards the crying woman.

She recoiled from my touch.

“No! Please leave me alone!”, she cried.

Floyd came up behind me.

“She’s afraid of us, Chess”, he said. “Just leave her alone”. He went back to the group, who continued down the street, leaving me alone with Flag and the terrified woman.

I backed away from her, a lump in my throat. Turning around, I walked up to Flag, trying desperately to hold back tears. Behind me, I heard the woman get up, and run down the street, away from us.

I looked up at Flag.

“I wasn’t going to hurt her”, I said quietly.

“I know”, he said shortly. “But she doesn’t”. He made to touch my shoulder; but changed his mind, straightened his back, and turned around.

“Let’s go, kitten”.

We joined the others.

“That was quick”, Harley smiled. “It’s ok, colonel. It happens to all men”.

“Lady, I will rip your pigtails off with my bare hands”, he growled at her, stomping to the front of the group.

“Never happened to me”, Croc winked at Harley, who beamed back at him.

Another checkpoint. Digger took care of this one.

Huddling up behind a couple of cars, we finally saw our target. A lieutenant of Ra’s Al Ghul, who had been stirring up trouble, laying the groundwork for a new stronghold for his master. They had chosen to set up shop in the town square; having tied up a group of around 10 hostages to a statue in the middle.

Flag started barking orders in a hushed voice.

“Alright. Floyd, you got the roofs. Keep in radio contact”. It was clear he trusted Floyd more than the rest of the group.

“Croc, see that van? Make sure anyone in it, and in the immediate vicinity of it, don’t have the chance to warn the target”. Croc went down on all fours, and disappeared into a nearby shrubbery.

“Diablo and Digger. I want you on each side of that building. If they do spot us; I want you to bottleneck them into that alley”, he said, pointing in the direction he meant. “GQ, you and your men join them. One on the flame, two on boomer”. Digger scoffed at the nickname.

“Harley; I want you… actually you just do whatever it is you do, without giving the rest of us away”, he sighed at her.

“Sure thing, boss”, she mock-saluted him. “Go team!”.

“You got your orders. Go!”, he finished; and the group scattered, each to their assigned positions.

“What am I supposed to do?”, I asked, feeling slightly left over.

“You stay on me”, he answered, and looked through his binoculars.

A few minutes went by. Hearing a growl from the direction of Crocs assigned post, I saw blood spatter on the inside of the windows of the van.

I heard Harleys voice yelling; “Batter up!”, followed by a clank and a loud scream.

Some of the lieutenants soldiers began scrambling.

“Goddamnit, Quinn!”, Flag cussed. “You! Stay here!”, he growled at me, and ran in the direction of Harleys voice, leaving behind his binoculars. I picked them up, and looked through them.

In the square, the soldiers were rigging up chains and wires around the hostages. Connected to the wires were multiple red sticks I recognized from movies I’d seen. Dynamite.

I looked in the direction Flag had gone. He and Harley were arguing quietly behind a bus.

I looked back at the town square. Our target was walking back and forth in front of the hostages, ranting about something I couldn’t make out.

I tried zooming in with the binoculars. Military tech for the win, I thought, and looked through them again.

In his hand, the lieutenant was holding what seemed to be a tablet. Large numbers read 5:00. The bastard walked up to a teenage boy, who had a stick of dynamite strapped to his chest. He put his hand on his cheek, and said something to him, that made the boy break down in tears. He then pressed a button on the screen. The numbers began to count down.

4:59.

4:58.

4:57…

Fuck!, I thought, and threw the binoculars on the ground.

Reminded of my harness, I rolled my eyes. Ok. So I couldn’t smile. But I did know how to move quietly and quickly. I pulled up my hood, and closed my jacket.

I snuck forward. I heard a gunshot and a grunt behind me, and looked back; seeing an enemy soldier on the ground, a bullet hole right between his eyes. Thanks, Floyd, I smiled up at the roof of a nearby building, seeing Deadshots white hood disappear back into the darkness.

I moved forward again, hiding behind a truck. A stone landed on the ground next to me; and looking in the direction of the thrower, I saw Flag waving at me.

“Get back!”, he mouthed at me angrily. I shook my head, and looked towards the hostages. Continuing forward, I suddenly heard a beep. Looking down, I saw the light on the disc on my chest turn from red to green.

Looking back at Flag – his wrist raised, pushing some buttons on what looked like a watch – I smirked, and nodded at him. Thanks, I thought.

A purr moving through my body; I smiled.

Readying my claws, I ran towards the square. A soldier looked in my direction, having heard my movement, but unable to see me. Oops. Quietly now, I thought, and scaled a car next to him, making as little sound as I could.

I saw Digger and the Tweedles running towards a group of soldiers exiting a building. They finished them of quickly, but not before having drawn enough attention to make the lieutenant aware of their presence.

He yelled something I couldn’t I understand, and dropped the tablet he had been holding.

Gunfire sounded, and I ran faster, making my way to the group of hostages.

I reappeared, startling a few of the hostages who screamed at me.

Picking up the tablet from the ground, I desperately began pushing the screen, trying to make the countdown stop.

2:35.

2:34.

2:33…

There was no way I could stop the detonation.

I spun around, ran to the statue, and began pulling at the wires.

“You’ll make it go off!”, the teenage boy from before shouted at me.

I ran to the back of the statue, finding a simple lock, holding together the two ends of the chain intertwined with the wires.

This I can handle, I smiled, and got out my kit.

I managed to break two of the lockpicks, my hands shaking from the stress of the situation. I looked at the tablet on the ground.

1:01.

1:00.

0:59…

Taking a deep breath, I gave it one more try. Please, please, please!.

The lock opened.

I grabbed one end of the chain, and ran with it around the statue, releasing the hostages. The teenage boy carefully pulled at the tape that held the stick of dynamite to his chest, and put the red stick gingerly on the ground.

“Thanks!”, he smiled at me, and ran. I smiled after him.

An elderly woman was having trouble keeping up with the others.

0:37.

0:36.

0:35…

“Just go on”, she yelled at me.

“No!”, I answered, and ran to put her arm around my neck. Stumbling a few steps forward, the woman was suddenly lifted from the ground, screaming, as Croc – with a smile plastered across his gruesome face – ran to safety, the old woman hanging over his shoulder.

We did it!, I thought, and went to run after him.

Someone grabbed my leg, holding me in place. Looking down, I saw the lieutenant – a gash across his face, and a gunshot to his chest – laughing up at me. His strong hands were holding on to my leg, making it impossible for me to move.

I looked towards the group waiting for me at a safe distance. The hostages were continuing down the street, running towards sirens and blinking lights.

0:15.

0:14.

0:13…

Flag screamed something at me, Edwards and his soldiers holding him back.

I yanked at my leg, desperately trying to get the dying man to let me go.

0:09.

0:08.

0:07…

I lifted my fist and screamed; cutting through my captors arm. He let go with a yelp; and I ran.

0:03.

0.02.

0:01…

0:00.....

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r

@hyp-oh-critical

#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag fic #rick flag imagine #suicide squad fic #suicide squad imagine #deadshot #harley quinn

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