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iellarenuodolorian · 4 years

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Mandoctober Day 9

Darksaber

Summary: The first part of this prompt is dedicated to what we actually know about the Darksaber from the cartoon shows. After the “〰️”is when my AU takes over and I get carried away with how it came to be in a certain someone’s possession.

Words: 3.5k (YIKES sorry ya’ll I got carried away!)

Warnings: war, death, fighting, angst (mild), scattered fluff

Pairing: Din DjarinxF!mandalorian reader

~2BBY

The strangest event had happened. Bo-Katan had returned to your clan with a new gift. It was the Darksaber.

As you stared at the silver hilt in Bo’s hands, you tried to remember what you knew about this legendary weapon.

It was created centuries ago by Tarre Vizsla, the only Mandalorian to ever be part of the Jedi Order. The Jedi must have been different back then for Vizsla to agree to be one of them. No Mandalorian these days would agree to such atrocity. Tarre used his skills as a Jedi to bring peace to the war torn Mandalorians and for the first time in centuries Mandalorians knew what peace was. But that peace did not last, because after Tarre died, the peace he had worked so hard to build was torn apart and Mandalorians were at war with each other again.

After Vizsla died, the Jedi kept his saber in their temple, as a relic. House Vizsla “liberated” it from the hands of the Jedi, and the Darksaber became a symbol of leadership to all Mandalorians after Vizsla had wielded it for so long and lead the Mandalorians to peace. That wasn’t to say that whoever wielded the Darksaber was fit to always be Mand’alor. Anyone who wished could challenge them to combat for the right to be Mand’alor. Mandalorians had always believed only the strongest should lead, and only the strongest should wield such a relic.

House Vizsla had kept the Darksaber in their clan for many years, and the next Vizsla to have a history with the Darksaber was Pre Vizsla. During the Clone War, he created a group of Mandalorians who believed in the old ways, not the pacifist ways of Duchess Satine and her followers. Vizsla and his group he named the Death Watch, Kyr’tsad, were a rogue group of lawless killers who obeyed no one and only followed Pre because he brought them glory in combat. The goal of Death Watch was to liberate Mandalore from their pacifist enemies and restore the mando’ade to Mandalore. Originally Death Watch aligned themselves with the Sepratists, but after many failed attempts to take Mandalore back Death Watch the alliance is broken and Death Watch sets out to try and build their own army.

Death Watch stumbled upon two Sith brothers, Pre makes the mistake of thinking that because these brothers are Sith they could be allies and be joined by their hatred of Jedi. Little does Pre know that Maul is only using Death Watch to start his own crime syndicate, Crimson Dawn. Maul has his own agenda which does NOT include taking back Mandalore in a timely manner.

When Pre realizes this, he challenges Maul to a fight, that he ultimately loses. Bo had told you this part of the story because she had been close with Pre, once upon a time. Watching Maul kill Pre was horrifying for Bo and because she believed no outsider, aruetii, should rule and wield the Darksaber, she deserted and took a handful of loyal Mandalorians with her.

Bo returned to Mandalore with her nephew to break her sister out of jail, but with no small amount of convincing from her nephew, Korkie Kryze. The small group only managed to escape to the edge of the city of Sundari where Satine managed to send a transmission to Master Kenobi with a plea for help. Master Kenobi showed up some time later, only to also fail in his attempt to save Satine, and Master Kenobi was forced to watch as Maul killed Satine with the Darksaber. Bo and the Nite Owls helped Master Kenobi to escape and told him to tell the Jedi Council what has happened but to keep the Republic from sending troops to occupy Mandalore.

After many years of recruiting loyal Mandalorians to her cause, Bo set out with a small group of her loyal Nite Owls to find a Jedi she had met years before when she was part of Death Watch. Bo had hoped that if she could find this Jedi she could use said Jedi to recruit help from the Jedi council to take back Mandalore from Maul. Bo and the Nite Owls eventually found this Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, and recruited her to train in the Mandalorian ways. Ahsoka eventually agreed to talk with her old Masters, Kenobi and Skywalker, and see if there was a way to send troops to Mandalore to capture Maul.

Ahsoka was given command of half of the 501st Legion, and the Siege of Mandalore started. It was a long and bloody six months, with neither side making any sort of gain. Maul eluded capture again and again, and finally, after most of Sundari was in flames, was Maul finally captured. Except the Darksaber was nowhere to be found. Maul must have hidden it somewhere only he knew, and now this ancient relic that could unite all the Mandalorian clans was lost, possibly forever.

The Force works in mysterious ways, you could testify to that from your own life experiences, and the Darksaber was not lost forever. A member of House Wren, Clan Vizsla, had come across a shrine on the planet Dathomir dedicated to the late Duchess Satine, and on a pedestal was the Darksaber. Having stolen the saber from Dathomir, this member of House Wren was reluctant to learn to wield it. She knew the responsibility and power it carried and felt that she didn’t deserve it. But after accepting who she could be, Sabine Wren accepted that the Darksaber had come to her for a reason. Sabine was dedicated to the Rebellion, and knew she could not divide her loyalties between her Mandalorian family and her Rebellion family. She passed on the Darksaber to Bo-Katan to unite the clans and to take back Mandalore.

〰️

Bo-Katan traveled to some of the larger clans to ask for warriors to come out of hiding and to take back their home with her. Many joined, only some stayed behind to protect those too young to fight and to pass the Mandalorian culture on to the next generation.

Many thousands of Mandalorians gathered Carlac to form the army that would take back Mandalore. You were an anxious mess, knowing at some point Din Djarin would show up and you would be able to see him again after more than a year of being apart. In the last decade you had only managed to spend a few days with him once a year, in a cold dark corner of space hiding from the rest of the Galaxy in stolen moments of passion. The passion was like a supernova, burning hot and bright for a short period of time, only to implode into a black hole with the loneliness and depression of being separated again after such a short time.

It was two days before the attack was to take place, and you were going over plans and cleaning your armor and weapons. You had spent the day training and catching up with Ailyn to distract yourself from the fact that Din still had not come to join the attack group. Ailyn had to end the session early, you were taking all your frustrations out on her. You were so focused on polishing your helmet and checking the wiring in your HUD you failed to notice someone sneaking into your tent. You whirled, blaster aimed, ready to tackle the intruder when he threw his hands up shouting “Hey, its just me! Udesii.”

“Jare’la di’kut.” You lowered your blaster and sighed to yourself in frustration. You watched Din take his helmet off and gently toss it onto your makeshift cot. His arms reached for you at the same time as yours and you wrapped each other in the tightest of embraces, holding on to each other for as long as possible, afraid this was only a dream.

Din began pressing kisses into your neck, as your hands found his curls, gently tugging and pushing the curls around. Din kissed his way up your jaw, and finally his lips found yours. Not wasting any time you eagerly pushed your tongue against his lips, just begging to taste him. It had been so long and you had almost forgotten what his kisses were like.

After you had finished reacquainting your mouths with each other, armor was removed and set at the end of your bed. You had gone out for food and brought it back to your tent, so you and Din could share a meal in peace and catch up.

“How are things going with the Bounty Hunters Guild these days?” You asked him.

“Work is work.” He shrugged as he took another bite. “I keep busy, nothing is too challenging. Sometimes it's almost too easy. But then I remember I’m getting older, and my back loves to remind me of that fact.” You laughed at his statement, almost spitting out your bite of food.

“You are not old! Because if you are old, then so am I and I am NOT ready to accept that fact of life. We are just hitting our prime!”

The rest of the meal was spent with Din telling stories about some of his more, eventful, bounties while you shared that you had not been doing much but traveling to the different hidden clans making sure they had enough supplies and that no one was trying to kill each other. Bo-Katan had given her Nite Owls the task of making sure the clans were taken care of in hiding.

It was late when you had finished telling your stories, so you curled up next to Din under the blankets. Using his shoulder as a pillow, you curled up next to him trying to be as close to him as possible. You would only have tonight to enjoy him as much as possible, tomorrow night everyone was to load up and head out to make the jump to Mandalore. You played with his hair until if put both of you to sleep, and for just one gloriously perfect night, you slept peacefully.

You wished you could always wake up to Din in the morning, his bed head was legendary. You weren’t sure if it was from sleeping, you playing with it in your sleep, or both. Either way his face in the soft morning light made you wish for just a moment that you both had different lives and that it was possible for you to always wake up like this.

The day was spent doing some light training with Ailyn and Din, making sure everyone’s weapons were functioning at 110%, armor was polished and functioning properly, and everyone’s munitions belts fully stocked with charges and spare power packs. When everything was as ready as it could be, you, Din and Ailyn went to your respective ships to start the pre-flight checklist. Your secure comlink connection to Din’s helmet kept you entertained through the checklist as you talked about silly memories to keep you distracted from the nerves of the coming battle. It was entirely possible that one of both of you would not return from this mission.

You were leading the squadron of Gauntlet fighters to the underground tunnels in Sundari. Your group was tasked with taking the tunnels while Ailyn was taking a group to secure the loading docks. Bo-Katan was taking another group to the Palace to capture Saxon, and secure the throne.

As soon as your group came out of hyperspace, something in your mind was screaming, “trap!!” The recon and intel that had been gathered for weeks before the mission had to be accurate, there was no way that the Empire could have changed anything in such a short amount of time. You would have to trust your training, which was more like automatic reflexes, and trust Bo-Katan and her strategy.

Suddenly, a Star Destroyer came out of hyperspace on your port side. I have a bad feeling about this, you thought to yourself as swarms of TIEs came streaming out of the Destroyer.

Bo-Katan’s voice sounded over your speakers, “All fighters head for the surface! Only engage if you have to. We need as many troops on the ground as we can get!”

After dozens of close calls, minimal damage, and only one Gauntlet lost along the way, your team made it to the surface. Your thoughts momentarily wandered to Din, wondering if he had managed to make it to the surface with Bo. He was part of her group responsible for taking the Palace. But you had to focus leading your own group through the tunnels so that you could set as many traps for later when Imperial troops were fleeing.

The Imperials were more than prepared for your attack on the tunnels. The nagging feeling in your mind that something was just wrong kept pushing its way to the front of your thoughts. You were met with squads of stormtroopers at every junction in the tunnels, and it was taking far too long to try and flank them to get around and to the central drain that would lead to the surface of Sundari. You knew the surviving members of your group would need to be split between reinforcing the loading docks and helping to secure the Palace. But something was just wrong about the entire situation. The stormtroopers seemed to know every move before you even made it. If you didn’t know better you would have said that whoever was leading them had a book on Mandalorian tactics and had studied it very well.

After what felt like days of fighting, your group had finally reached the main tunnel that led to the surface. With your comm working again, you reached out to Ailyn to see how her fight was going at the docks. Her group had things held down for now, but Ailyn had not heard from Bo-Katan in hours. She should have checked in by now with a report, good or bad. And that was when the nagging feeling hit home. Something had gone terribly wrong in the Palace, and the two people who meant the most to you in the Galaxy were stuck in the trap. You had to come up with a plan, but what?

You couldn’t just charge into the Palace, shooting at anything that moved and being a one woman show. The Mand’alor was in there, probably held captive by Saxon, and surrounded by troopers. Ailyn pulled up a holo of the Palace, and together the leaders of the four squads that were going to pull off this rescue mission.

With a plan in place, you took your squad on the long route to the throne room. Ailyn was going to create a distraction with an attack at the front, one squad served as the backup for any team that needed extra firepower, while the last squad was being saved as the last effort to save the mission.

You were amazed at how many troopers were stationed in the palace, far more than there should have been after the estimate you had added up in your head from your own experience in the tunnels and from what Ailyn had told you from the docks. The only way that there could have been this many troops to reinforce the original recon numbers was if a Moff or someone higher than that in High Command had pulled strings to make sure Mandalore did not fall.

The nagging feeling in your mind only grew stronger the closer to the throne room that your squad came. You knew Din was still alive, and you hoped that Bo-Katan was alive too. Without her the clans would surely fall into civil war again, and this time it would be a civil war that ended the Mandalorian culture.

Upon finally reaching the doors to the throne room, both yours and Ailyn’s squads stormed the room, taking out the troopers stationed around the spacious room with ease.

Your eyes fell to the throne, and the man sitting on it. That man was not Tiber Saxon. Who was this man with dark hair and dark skin, and black stormtrooper armor?

“My name is Moff Gideon.” A baritone voice drawled. “You may remember me from years past as the Imperial Security Bureau Agent in charge of rounding up and executing Mandalorian traitors to the Empire. As you can see I managed to escape from that pitiful prison the Rebels tried to hold me in. You do not know the extent of the powers I have, nor the powerful friends I have in high places. You have underestimated me. And now you will pay for your costly mistake.”

He ignited the Darksaber, and held it to Bo-Katan’s neck. “Lay down your weapons and surrender if you want your precious Mand’alor to live. I have no qualms using this blade to kill her, and the rest of you for that matter.”

With a glance at Ailyn, you knew that your final contingency plan was going to be called into action. Din wasn’t too far away, with a jump and a quick burst of your jetpack, you should be able to protect him from what was about to happen.

“Lower your weapons. Now.” More troopers began filing in from behind the throne, and slowly you and Ailyn signaled to your troops to set their blasters on the floor. The audio sensors in your helmet had picked up the sound of the jetpacks of the fourth squad, and your jump to protect Din had to be timed perfectly or it would give the whole plan away. 3… 2… 1…. JUMP!

You wrapped Din up in your arms and curled your body around him as much as possible to protect him from the missiles that were being sent into the throne room from the Mandalorians outside. Ailyn made a jump similar to yours for Bo-Katan, and in the chaos of the dust and blaster bolts the Mandalorians made their escape.

Back on the base at Carlac, you and Ailyn sat down to talk about what happened with Bo-Katan. She would need several days rest before she could be moved back to her clan’s hiding spot.

“Who was that man and how did he manage to defeat us so easily?” You asked her.

“Many years ago, in the first Siege of Mandalore, when we asked the Republic for help in dethroning Maul we made the mistake of thinking the Republic was on the right side. It turns out we only made it easier for the Empire to occupy Mandalore after the Clone War ended. Gideon was put in place to oversee the submission of Mandalorians to the Empire. When we refused, we were imprisoned and killed. Gideon spent his time interrogating his prisoners before he would kill them, so he could learn as much as possible about us to make it easier for him to wipe us out. And now he possesses the Darksaber. I fear Mandalore is lost, for without the Darksaber to unite the clans there will be civil war again. We must go into deeper hiding, to protect ourselves, our families, and our way of life.”

After saying goodnight, you and Ailyn left Bo to sleep for the night. Tomorrow would come and be a new day to look at the problems facing the Mandalorians.

You told Ailyn you wanted to check on Din before heading to your tent, and admitted you would probably end up staying with him for the night.

As you walked into his room, you saw he was already asleep. The droid had told you outside that he would be fine, his wounds had already been healed with some bacta slave. The only injury that would require a bit longer to heal was the broken ribs. You walked over to his side, and kissed his head brushing a few curls off to the side and running your fingers through to the ends a few times. Tears formed in your eyes as you thought about everything that had happened the last few days, and how you could have lost him. You refused to let more than one tear fall though, because he was here and everything was going to be fine.

You pulled up a chair next to his bed, and laid your head on your arms next to his legs, and wrapped your hands around his and fell asleep with your face next to his hand.

In your dreams, you had visions of a man in silver beskar’gam, wielding the Darksaber. He felt familiar to you in the way that dreams tend to blur the line between reality and dreamland, but in dreamland grasping at familiarity is like trying to smell colors in reality.

Aruetii- traitor, foreigner, or outsider [ah-roo-AY-tee]

Mand’alor- sole ruler [MAHN-dah-lor]

Mando’ade- sons and/or daughters of Mandalore [mando-AH-day]

Kyr’tsad- Death Watch (lit. Death Society) [KEERT-sahd]

Udesii- take it easy/calm down/relax [oo-DAY-see]

Jare’la di’kut- you’re asking for it dumbass [jah-RAY-lah DEE-koot]

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

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Thank you for taking the time to read my silly little story!! It mean the world to me 💙💙

#mandoctober #the mandalorian #din djarin #my fics #I’m actually really proud of this one #ive probably peaked with this chapter and the rest of the month will be a flop

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writersrealmbts · 5 years

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Con Amore: Part 3

Bulletproof Melody Sequel

Description: Con Amore– A directive to a musician to perform a selected passage of a composition tenderly, with affectionate emotion, or in a loving manner; an instruction to the player of an instrument meaning ‘with love’ or ‘lovingly’. Three years with all seven of your loves, three years of relative peace. But now everything is threatened as darkness surges from the horizon.

Originally Posted: 07/24/2019

Tags: Superheroes, Ot7

Fluff/Angst: 1,833 words

A/N: Hope you’re excited! Any theories yet? It’s posted early because I have plans for tomorrow and intended to post it then. Probably wait five days before posting the next part, if not a week.

Jimin stroked your hair, watching your every movement as you sipped some ginger ale. “Better, chubs?” You nodded. “It was probably the artifact Tae and I recovered combined with my worry. Nothing to worry about.” “Of course we worr—” Jimin broke off, dropping his gaze, “Worry. I’m sorry, y/n. You were already worried about me, and Joon-hyung, and…and you—” You put a finger to his lips. “You should try to sleep.” He looked a little like a kicked puppy. “But—” “Jimin-ah, I really don’t want to talk about this right now. Please. I get that you don’t like conflict to remain, but there’s going to be even more if you push me right now.” He slowly nodded. “Okay, chubs. Cuddle with me?” You nodded, laying back and lightly holding onto Jimin. It was a good way of knowing that he was just worried about you instead of being upset with you. He craned his neck to get his kisses, then lay back with a slight smile when he received it. You matched his breathing, waiting until he had fallen deeply asleep, then glancing back. Yoongi nodded, climbing over and carefully taking your place. You slid off the bed, checking on Namjoon, who was half-asleep on the other bed. He caught your hand, squeezing it and pulling it so he could get a kiss. “Feel better?” “Yeah, you?” He nodded. “Hoseok gave me some herbs and painkillers.” “Good. Rest up,” You whispered, giving him a second kiss. Taehyung and Jungkook were eating in the next room, the one you sent Taehyung to get. Whatever they were eating smelled…absolutely terrible. You gagged a bit and closed the door, plugging your nose. “You okay?” You wrinkled your nose. “What the heck are they eating?” “Grilled chicken alfredo,” Hoseok answered, still looking concerned. “Your favorite. You must be really sick. You don’t like ginger outside of ginger-ale, so maybe catmint or peppermint…” He started muttering, feeling your forehead. “I really don’t want to consume anything right now, Hobi.” You tucked into his chest grateful he had come from taking a shower. He didn’t smell like anything but Hobi, and his chest had a comforting warmth to it. “I was planning on sleeping in there.” He hummed softly. “What smells are okay?” You shrugged, then sniffed your hand. “Citrus. I think peppermint.” He nodded. “Let me and the other two try and clean out the smell. If we can’t, are you okay sharing with Joon?” You nodded. You had told Jungkook that you wanted to have your own bed. You just needed space. Space to calm down. Space to worry. Space that should be filled by Jin. Space to punish yourself for not protecting your loves better. You had put off finding more protections for them, thinking they might find it a little overbearing and worrying that your love for them might cause you to overstep the bounds of your duty as an archivist. What if you used an artifact to protect them, and ended up hurting others because of it? But now Jin was missing, and even if you didn’t think he was in danger…Namjoon said Jin had been hurt. And who knew who had taken him, and for what reason. For all you knew it could be like what happened with your father. Oh God. “Tinny? Is your stomach bothering you that badly?” Hobi slouched to meet your eye, gently wiping your cheeks. You wiped a tear from your own face, staring at it. “No. It isn’t. I’m just…” You shook your head. “I don’t even know. I mean, I’m crying. Again. I’m broken. Why am I broken?” “Your voice just squeaked and it was adorable—no wait, don’t cry more!” “It’s not cute, it’s annoying and wrong and ugh!” “Sshhh,” He hushed you gently. “Jimin and Namjoon are asleep. We don’t want to wake them.” You pressed your face into his shoulder. “What’s wrong with me?” You asked, unable to push back the tears. “You’re sick and stressed, and I’m sure you’re tired and worried. I think you should just try and sleep, Tinny. Okay? Yoongi and Namjoon can help you figure out the songs you need in the morning. Do you want pajamas or are you okay in Jungkook’s t-shirt?” “I’m okay.” He guided you to the other side of Namjoon’s bed, helping you lay down under the covers. “You want me to hold your hand until you fall asleep?” You nodded, feeling calmer. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why….” He kissed you gently when you didn’t continue. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay. Just try and sleep, baby. Cuddle Joon if you feel sad again.” You nodded, closing your eyes. You were tired, and crying always gave you a headache. Maybe sleep was a better choice. You wiggled over so that you were next to Namjoon, squeezing Hobi’s hand. You opened your eyes as light shone brightly through your eyelids. You were in some sort of stone room, cold air greeting you where you had been warm next to Joon just seconds earlier. It felt foreign and familiar at the same time. There were no lights or windows, but the room was mostly lit. You looked at each blank wall, but the only thing that you really noticed was that the walls were the light source, and some other part of your brain was saying that you already knew that. “Nightingale,” A voice called behind you. You froze. “Nurya Cohen.” “You may face me, Archivist.” You slowly turned to her. “Working with that artifact you swore would stay locked up?” She looked to the floor, the glow about her dying down slightly. “Slicha, ani lokeakh et mlo ha’achrayut.” “I still don’t speak Hebrew.” “Sorry, I take full responsibility,” She translated, dipping her head. “But I should hope you know I would not go back on my word unless circumstances called for it.” “As a light priestess, I would hope not.” She turned, gesturing for you to follow. You fell in step with her, out into her sanctuary. Last you had seen her was when her healer friend had, well, healed you after your crash from the top of the building three years ago. She had come to you, so the last time you had been to the sanctuary was when you had dropped the artifact with her. Too big for you to move around, but perfectly hidden in her sanctuary. Which was a temple of light and healing, a place where some astronomy students also conducted their studies. It had surprisingly strong security despite being a pacifist group. “We have a metupal in our infirmary. One of yours, I believe.” She folded her hands in front of her, similar to how an opera singer might. “Actually, we are mostly certain.” “Oh?” You frowned, trying not to get your hopes up that it was Jin. “He keeps rambling about dorchadas and something about an oasis. He also said that the kids were in danger and he had to tell you, Nightingale.” “Dorchadas? Are you certain?” You frowned. “You know what it is?” “It’s Irish. For darkness.” She looked more troubled. “And the oasis mentioned?” You shook your head. “Not sure. Not even sure what kids he could mean. I keep an eye on multiple children’s homes.” “Well, he wouldn’t lay still until I assured him I would pass the message to you. But I also contacted you because of the rumors that we heard just before his arrival. Rumors of a dark organization that works to remove the powers of supers, one that had been disbanded, but are now active again. And that they had found a former patient.” She paused, glancing at you as you froze. “Nightingale?” “The Oasis Initiative,” You breathed. Both of you were silent, but she looked at you as if waiting for further response. “Cursing is a little inappropriate here so you better continue.” “Quid pro quo.” You made a slashing gesture, making a face as you tried to think of how to explain it. “After you finish.” “Very well. One of our watchers got the pictures and information of the patient. It’s Siphon, or Laguz as you know him. However, another group also got the information—” “The Conservatory,” You guessed. Everything made sense now. They probably sent rookies because they thought it would be a basic abduction followed by an explanation that it was for his safety. They probably only heard whispers of a threat and given their penchant for watching out for their own (one of the few points you couldn’t find fault with) went to make sure that the whispers couldn’t be carried out. She nodded. “I know you dislike the place—I don’t blame you—but if this Oasis Initiative is functioning again….” “Then we all need to be ready for the worst. And we’ll need a strong base of operations, like the Conservatory. I trust you to send a representative as well?” She dipped her head. “Of course, Archivist. I will give you the head-start. Be advised, though, you should put distance between yourself and this fight.” Everything was getting blurry and the panic—that was a side effect of the artifact—started rising in your body. “Why? And who’s in the infirmary?” You managed to choke out. Her gaze flit to your midsection before the dream shattered like glass. Strong arms had you pinned down. “Y/n!” You finally opened your eyes, almost throwing up, but somehow managing to choke it down long enough to free yourself and run to the bathroom. Someone pulled your hair back. “Maybe she should see a doctor,” One of them said softly. You sat back, panting a little. “Tae, can you get me my makeup bag?” “Yeah.” “Makeup? Honey, I don’t think that’s—” “You’re right, you don’t think of me having anything else in my makeup bag, but I do. Now, Hoseok, I love you, but get out. Same goes to you, Kook, and you, Yoongi. Nothing to see here.” You got to your feet, reaching to flush the toilet before shakily stepping over to the sink to brush your teeth. You scrunched your nose, frustrated with yourself. “I’m sorry. I just…I need a minute.” “Okay,” Jungkook said. “We’ll keep the food in the other room. Do you want some toast?” You nodded. Tae handed you your bag. You closed the door behind him, taking a couple deep breaths to steady yourself before going to the bottom of your bag and pulling the pregnancy test out. “Please be wrong,” You muttered. You waited the appropriate amount of time, trying to count how long it had been since you had had your last visit from Aunt Flo. This would be the worst timing ever. You didn’t want to be sidelined. Not if the Oasis Initiative was active again. You glanced at the time on whoever’s watch you had found sitting on the counter, then looked at the test.

~~~~~

Part 2. Part 4.

Masterlist. ~ Series Masterpost.

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maandags · 5 years

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Fixable Mistakes (Hunk x reader)

fam im jsbdcjs

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Summary: When you show up at the Castle of Lions with a heartbreaking story and a request for help, Hunk accepts immediately, not thinking anything except the fact that you needed help and he could give it to you. But as schemes begin to unfold and errors are committed, Hunk constantly needs to remind himself of something: that not every mistake can be fixed...

Word count: 11.2K

Genre: angst/fluff

Notes: masterlist - yalls idek what to say. i show love by making my babies suffer

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At first, Hunk thought you were a hallucination.

He was in his room, minding his own business, when his wristband went off and Keith’s face appeared on a little screen hovering over his arm, telling him to get to the briefing room right now. Before Hunk could ask why, Keith broke the connection.

So Hunk sighed and pushed off his bed, trudging towards the briefing room with a scowl. He had stuff to do, damn it–he needed to show Pidge some inconsistencies in a program he was working on. Maybe she could help him. There were dozens of other things he needed to do, and there had been no meeting scheduled until two days from now. It made no sense, he grumbled internally as he pushed open the door to the briefing room.

He froze, one hand still on the doorknob.

There you stood, looking regal as anything, your hands clasped behind your back, your feet standing solidly on the ground and your shoulders drawn back. A strange thing he immediately noticed was how your hair seemed to flow behind you as if you were underwater, the ends dissolving into golden dust–as if you were a sand statue seconds away from crumbling.

You turned your head, two eyes that seemed forged out of hot embers casting him a surprised glance before your lips curled into a tentative smile. “Hello.”

“Hi,” said Hunk, voice squeakier than usual.

“Hunk? Sit down, please,” said Allura from the head of the table, and somewhere in the back of his mind Hunk noticed how shaky her voice was. His mind was completely entranced with your image in front of him, though, so he didn’t pay any attention to it until Lance brought it up later.

He ripped his eyes from your form and quickly sank into his seat, Pidge at his side. She leaned towards him and whispered, “Don’t worry. We all had the same reaction when we first saw them.” For some reason, that didn’t sit well with Hunk at all.

Everyone was there. Everyone looked at you, seated opposite Allura at the other end of the table, your body giving off its own golden-orange glow, your hair turning to stardust behind your head. You looked like… well, Hunk thought, somewhat embarrassed, you looked like royalty. Yet you also looked slightly nervous, your eyes darting from Paladin to Paladin and your shoulders drawn up to your ears as if you were expecting to get yelled at. The opposite of how you'd looked only minutes ago.

After a moment of silence, Keith spoke up, and you jumped. “So. Are you going to introduce yourself?”

Shiro’s eyes snapped to Keith, a careful warning lying in them. “Keith–”

“No, it’s okay,” you interrupted him. Your voice was quieter than Hunk had expected–twinkling. Like a melody from a music box, back on Earth. Or a star.

You took a breath, bringing delicate hands onto the table and lacing your fingers together. Even your nails seemed to give off that strange golden glow. “My name is Y/N. I’m a Comet, and I’ve come to ask for your help.”

There were exactly two seconds of dead silence, and then everyone began to speak at once. They bombarded you with questions or simply said, “What?” Lance practically jumped over the table and shouted in your face, Pidge right by his side, and you shrank more into yourself with every word they uttered. Keith had grabbed Shiro’s arm and was saying how much he didn’t like this, how he was sure this was some kind of scheme from the Galra to infiltrate them, how there was no way this was going to end well–

No one paid any attention to how you felt, and when Hunk locked eyes with you over Pidge’s head, all he saw was absolute terror and confusion and desperation. The fire he’d seen earlier was still there, but it didn’t glow as brightly as it had before–they were frightened little flames, grasping and reaching for any bit of air they could get before they were completely suffocated.

“Everyone SHUT UP!”

He surprised even himself with his shout.

But it worked, because the room went so silent you could hear a fly drop dead. Lance and Pidge slid back into their seats, having the decency to at least look a little embarrassed. Keith still held on to Shiro’s arm but cast an annoyed glance at Hunk. But Hunk’s eyes were on you only, and the look of gratefulness you sent him made his chest churn.

“Can you explain who exactly you are and what you need our help for?” he finally said.

“I still don’t like this,” whispered Keith angrily.

“Let them talk,” muttered Shiro back. His eyes were back on you again, but not before they slid over Hunk with a new sort of interest.

You nodded, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I’m–I’m sorry for barging in like this, first of all. But you must know I would never seek your help if I had another choice,” you said, your voice strained and your eyes pleading as you kept your gaze firm on Allura. The princess’ expression was guarded, but held also something that was almost reverence, and Hunk got the feeling she knew exactly who you were–or at least what you were.

“As I said, I am a Comet. You have probably heard of my people, whether the ones talking about us knew what they were saying or not, but you probably have never made the connection between the comets you know and beings like me.” With these words, you burned your fiery gaze through Keith’s as if defying him.

“Well,” said Lance hesitantly, “we do know of comets on Earth–but they’re nothing more than lumps of ice and space dust and gas that burn up in our atmosphere.” But his tone was questioning as he said it.

You smiled faintly. “That’s what we made you believe.” Hunk could almost feel five pairs of eyebrows lift at the same time. “You know of falling stars, yes?” you said patiently, and when they all nodded, “All falling stars are comets–and some are, indeed, lumps of ice and dust and gas.” An amused look towards Lance. “Others are Comets–capital C.

“We’re a nomad people. Pacifist. We travel across the universe, needing nothing but starlight to survive. Sometimes we touch down on a planet and mix with its population for a while. One lifetime. Two lifetimes. Maybe more. But we always return to the space between the stars. It’s where we belong.”

“If you’ve always been around,” began Shiro cautiously, eyeing you as if he didn’t quite know what to make of you, “why has no one ever heard of you?”

“They have,” you stated simply, ember eyes flicking to Allura and Coran. “We stay out of wars. We don’t have a home for belligerents to conquer or destroy–we’re perfectly happy roaming between the stars. We don’t fight.” The words were tinged with a sadness Hunk couldn’t quite place. There’s a twinge in his gut.

Allura cleared her throat. “Comets were always regarded as deities, back on Altea. They represented everything important to us–freedom. Peace. Tranquillity.”

“Whenever a Comet touched down on Altea, they were treated with the utmost respect and were offered hospitality in the Castle of Lions,” continued Coran, a sad smile upon his face. “They always refused, wanting to be among the people instead. They never asked for anything in return, and what could we give to them? They lived so much longer than us. They were so much wiser than us. There was nothing we could give them except for kindness.”

“We never wanted anything more,” you said in that twinkling voice of yours. But then your eyes grew sad, the embers dimming to nothing more than a slight glow.

“Why did you come?” asked Allura–the question that had been burning on everyone’s lips from the moment you stepped inside the castle.

Your lips pursed themselves into a straight line, and as you screwed your eyes shut a single tear slid down your cheek. It was black and seemed to suck all the light into itself instead of glowing with it like the rest of you did. “The Galra found a way of harvesting a Comet’s quintessence,” you said shakily. When you opened your eyes again, they were blazing with a fury that almost has Hunk shrink back in his seat. “My people have been disappearing from all over the universe. We don’t know how to fight, it’s not what we were meant to do–how are we supposed to resist?” You balled your fists. “I don’t even know how many of us are left.”

Allura had her hands clapped over her mouth, and Coran had gone stark white. Looks of confusion were painted across the other’s faces, mixed with sympathy and anger. Shiro ran a hand through his hair. “The Galra have been capturing your people for their quintessence?”

You sighed shakily. “A Comet is aeons worth of starlight and energy. If you can harvest that much power all at once…” You shivered, looking suddenly very small and weak.

A spark of anger ignited in Hunk’s chest and he clenched his fist underneath the table. This was just another example of how the Galra would stop at nothing to get more power. They would just keep on destroying and harvesting–even if it meant wiping an entire people from the universe. But he remembered with a shock that it wasn’t the first time they’d done that, either; Allura and Coran were living proof of that.

“We’ll help you,” he found himself saying. Now everyone turned to him, and Keith shot him a murderous glare, and he was probably right to do so–it was way too quick to agree to something like this. But now that the words were out there he couldn’t take them back anymore. Hunk tried for an encouraging smile your way.

“Of course we’ll help you,” said Allura after a moment of silence. She took a breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, determination glinted in them. Hunk had seen this look on her before. It was the one she wore just before going to battle. “Coran and I know what it’s like to watch your people fall right before your eyes better than anyone. Of course we’ll help you.”

And that was that.

You were given your own room, at the end of the corridor and opposite Hunk’s. Everyone agreed you shouldn’t be left to roam the universe on your own when the Galra were rounding up Comets left and right, and you seemed beyond relieved that the team had decided to help you. When Hunk asked if Comets even slept, you merely smiled. “Not as far as I know… but there’s a first time for everything, right?” Your ember eyes, burning into his.

He grinned, expression a mirror image of your own. “Right.”

You arranged a meeting with Allura, Coran and Shiro first thing the next day and left the room. Everyone sagged in their seats and released puffs of air. Hunk pushed back his chair and prepared to get back to his own room, but a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked up right into Keith’s scowling face.

“You were stupid to just agree to help them like that,” he hissed, voice low so only Hunk can hear him. The rest talked in hushed voices, their heads close together. He opened his mouth to retort but again Keith cut him off. “I’m not gonna say anything to them–but know that I’ll keep an eye on them. I don’t trust this. I don’t trust them.”

“You still think this is some scheme from the Galra to try and infiltrate us?”

“They’re insane enough for it. But, Hunk?” He paused, violet eyes hard and steely. “If this all goes to shit, and any one of us gets hurt? That’s on you.” He let go and joined the others before Hunk could answer.

Despite Keith’s bitter words from the first night, the others seemed to warm up to you pretty quick–including Hunk himself.

You were the type of person anyone liked to be around: cheerful, always kind, always trying to help in whatever small ways you could. You glowed, lighting up a room by simply being in it. Hunk caught himself staring at you more often than he’d like to admit. Sometimes you’d meet his eyes. Smile. Hunk would look away, cheeks tinged red in embarrassment.

Around two weeks passed before there was another meeting. There had been small missions; gathering intel, trying to find out where the Galra took the Comets once they’d been captured, how they were captured, what was done with them. They’d all been working themselves to the bone to get all the information they needed to craft a solid plan. Now seemed they could at least lay down a base.

Shiro pressed a button and a hologram map sprang to life in the middle of the room. “This is where we think the Comets are taken once they’re captured,” he announced. Straight to the point, Hunk thought. All right.

“It’s a base in the Kianre quadrant, section KV-23. We’ve searched out for it. Found nothing but a whole lot of radiation emanating from this exact spot.” He wrote down some coordinates. “They’ve concealed the base, but now that we know it’s there, that’s not a problem anymore.”

Lance raised his hand. “So. This might be a stupid question, but why don’t we just form Voltron and blow the base up? Boom. Problem solved.”

“It’s what we would do if there wasn’t the slightest chance that there are actual alive Comets still being held captive there. We just can’t risk it,” said Allura.

“All right, then.” Pidge puckered her lips. “So it’s a stealth slash extraction mission then?”

Shiro nodded. “That’s right. The plan is to go in, find the Comets, take them to the lions, find out how the Galra harvested their quintessence and destroy it.”

“Sounds awfully simple when you put it like that,” muttered Keith from behind his crossed arms. A wave of irritation washed over Hunk and he bit back a retort. Why couldn’t Keith just relax? He saw threats where there weren’t any.

They discussed strategics. Hunk pitched in here and there, scratching the back of his neck and casting looks at you every now and then. You were a little off to the side, fiddling with your fingers. You looked, for the first time, unsure of yourself. As if you didn’t quite know why you were there. The glow permanently surrounding you had dimmed.

“Y/N,” called Allura.

Your head jerked up. “Yes?”

“Do you know how to fight?”

You pursed your lips. “I’ve never had to fight. I wasn’t trained.”

“So that’s a no,” said Lance helpfully. Hunk kind of wanted to punch him.

Allura looked torn, trying so hard to keep a straight face. “There’s nothing you can do to defend yourself?”

“I mean… I can manipulate my light a bit,” you mumbled, drawing your hand to your chest. shy under the sudden attention. “I’m only a young Comet. I have yet so much to learn…” Your fingers opened and closed, a little ball of pure golden light dancing between them. It was hypnotising. “It’s not much of a weapon, though, I don’t think.”

Allura and Shiro shared a look between them, and Hunk sensed that in that look a whole debate took place. Finally Shiro lowered his gaze and sighed. “Y/N, I’m sorry, but you won’t be able to come with us on the mission.”

You pursed your lips, clenching your hands into fists at your side. You looked like you wanted to say something, but thought better of it in the end: the decision had been made. You sat down, your gaze firm on the floor and your fingers entwined.

Shiro put a hand on your shoulder. Your body tensed ever so slightly–Hunk didn’t think anyone but him noticed. “I’m really, truly sorry.”

“No, I get it,” you muttered. “It’s okay. Really.”

You didn’t say anything more after that. You stayed until the end of the meeting, and Hunk was impressed with you for that because he could see how much it hurt you, the knowledge that everything could go wrong in a second and you would be powerless to do anything about it. But when Allura declared the meeting over, you were the first to exit the room.

It made Hunk’s chest ache. Seeing you like this–shoulders hunched, glow dimmed, completely deflated–made his chest ache. He wished there was something he could do to help. Just make sure the mission goes all right, he told himself. Just make sure their pain isn’t for nothing.

Hunk could feel the anticipation building inside the Castle as preparations were made. Their training schedules were altered, so every moment they weren’t resting or out and about they were holed up on the training deck, working their asses off.

Shiro yelled, “Training sequence over!” The sound of the training bot deactivating was the most beautiful sound Hunk had heard all day. He blew out a breath and let himself fall to the floor where he sat cross-legged, grinning at Lance who was splayed out on his back and making sure everyone knew how tired he was.

“I swear to everything that’s holy,” he said, staring up at the ceiling from where he starfished on the floor, “once we get the Comets out of that base I am rewarding myself by not doing any form of exercise for a week.”

Shiro frowned. Hunk knew you were supposed to stretch your muscles out after exercising. Technically. Shiro was the only one doing it. “That’s not a reward. You’ve gotta keep in shape, Lance.”

“Shut up. My limbs are jelly.” Lance demonstrated this by meekly flopping his arms.

Behind Shiro, sitting against the wall, Keith rolled his eyes. “We’re probably all going to die anyway in this stupid rescue mission. So I don’t see the point.”

Pidge sighed audibly. “Okay. So I know you never liked this idea to begin with but can you please don’t be a dick about it?”

Lance now sat up. “Yeah, I mean, what is your problem? Not to be passive-aggressive,” he added quickly, “I’m actually genuinely curious.”

Keith pulled his knees up to his chest, eyes pointedly to the wall opposite him. “I just don’t trust Y/N.” Now it was Hunk’s turn to sigh and roll his eyes.

“Why not, though?” Pidge asked, eyebrows knotting together. “They’ve been nothing but kind and helpful.”

Keith shrugged again. “I don’t know. Just a feeling.” There was a pause. “It’s just–don’t you think it’s weird that they just… showed up? Like, there was no warning, no distress signal, no nothing. None of us except for Coran and Allura have even heard of Comets before. And yeah, I get it. They need help. Their people need help. But still.” A defiant look Hunk’s way. “It doesn’t sit right with me.”

And with that happy thought, he pushed himself up and left the room.

“Well,” said Lance after a while, “paranoid much?”

But Shiro’s eyes had taken on that sheen that screamed doubt. His jaw was set, and Hunk could almost see the gears turn in his head. Even though it wasn’t clear if he actually believed Keith, the fact that his words had let Shiro doubt whether what they were doing was the right thing was enough to make Hunk past uncomfortable. He narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t actually think he’s right, right?”

Shiro turned to him, everything about his expression masked with doubt. “He might have a point, you know.”

“Oh my god,” Hunk choked out. Scrambling up, he grabbed his bayard and threw up his arms. “Y/N needs help! When have we ever refused anyone help?” He glared at Shiro. “They watched their civilization get destroyed. We’re their last resort! And you’re starting to doubt if they’re even telling the truth?”

Pidge stood up now, too. “I’m with Hunk on this one. Y/N doesn’t seem the type to be a traitor or something. A spy? They can’t even fight to defend themselves! And I don’t think I’ve ever caught them lie.”

“Maybe they’re just good at their job,” muttered Lance.

The words hit Hunk like a truck. “You too?”

Lance gave an apologetic shrug. “I’m not saying I don’t trust them. But Keith does have a point when he’s talking about how randomly they just showed up. You’d think we’d hear about it if beings as powerful as the Comets were being rounded up en masse.” He sniffed, rubbing his arm. “I’m just saying we could be a little more careful.”

Hunk bit his tongue, knowing that if he let his emotions spill over now he would say things he was for sure going to regret later. Instead he turned and headed for the door, making sure to slam it shut behind him.

He had the whole trip to his room to calm down, taking deep breaths and shaking his head as if he could shake the others’ words out of his mind. There was nothing wrong with a healthy dose of suspicion–but you?

Cheerful you, who Hunk was sure had never hurt a fly in your life. You, who made him laugh every evening at dinner, talking animatedly to anyone who would listen. You who were always keen to try whatever new concoction he’d come up with in the kitchen and tried your best to convince him he’d done a good job, even when he could see the strain in your grin. You who could make him feel better by simply being by his side.

One hand on his doorknob, he bit his lip. You hadn’t been much out of your room since the meeting; only for food (and even that was just out of politeness since Comets didn’t need to eat) and occasionally for a chat or two. It was clear you didn’t want to be reminded that the fate of your people lay in the others’ hands and that you could do nothing about it. But there was an itch in Hunk’s chest–he wanted to see you. Hear your voice.

So he spun on his heel and marched to the door opposite his own.

He had to knock twice before he got an answer. Your “Yeah?” sounded slightly irritated, and Hunk pulled back his hand, but before he could decide if this was actually a good idea you opened the door, eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of him. “Hunk! Hi.”

“Hey,” he said, fighting the urge to awkwardly balance on his heels. There were smudges of something dark under your eyes and on your cheeks. Hunk frowned. Had you been crying? Your eyes weren’t rimmed purple like they had been when you’d cried that first day you were here, but there was still something about the darkness on your face that made Hunk the slightest bit uncomfortable.

“Um… did you–uh–want anything? Or…”

Hunk jumped, feeling his own face heat up. “Oh, uh, no? Not really. I just wanted to check on you.” Your gaze softened and he suddenly really wanted to wipe away the smudges on your face. But he didn’t. Because that would be weird. “Are you okay?”

You grinned. Carefully. As if smiles were a fragile thing. And in a way, Hunk guessed they were. “Mostly. I’ve just been… you know. Stressed out. About stuff.”

Hunk sensed there was something you weren’t telling him, but he didn’t want to pressure you. If you wanted to tell him, you would. End of story. But your eyes were full of insecurities and doubt and there was something you weren’t telling him and it was something important. He opened his mouth to ask about it–but you cut him off with a question of your own.

“Hunk, do you ever feel like you’ve made a horrible, terrible mistake?”

The question caught him so off-guard he was rendered speechless for a second. But you were looking at him expectantly, almost desperately, so he thought about it before answering. “Well, I mean–of course. I’ve made my fair share of mistakes. But, you know, that’s okay. Everyone does.”

You nodded, chewing on your lower lip. You avoided his eyes as you mulled over his words. “And… when you realise you’ve made a mistake. What do you do?”

Hunk cocked his head. He didn’t quite understand what you were on about, but if he could help…

“Well, I try and fix it, don’t I? Almost every mistake can be fixed. Even trying goes a long way.”

Again you nodded, your eyes distant and your eyebrows furrowed. Your lips were moving, but whatever you were saying Hunk couldn’t make out. Your fingers fiddled with something dark but shiny, almost subconsciously. Upon closer inspection, Hunk saw it was a piece of fabric. It looked a lot like silk–but it also didn’t look like anything Hunk had ever seen before. The fabric was shimmery and seemed to shift between hues of blue and purple and black, glittering here and there with silver stars, as if someone had pinched a piece out of the universe and wove it together.

You saw him looking. Quickly withdrew the piece of cloth from sight. “Oh, that’s just–I’ve had it for ages. It’s like a good luck charm.”

Hunk nodded quickly. “Right.”

There was something else. He could tell. There was something else and it was bothering you and all he wanted to do was help–but if you wouldn’t tell him… Maybe this was something you needed to deal with on your own. He resisted the urge to pout. “Well, if you need anything else…”

Your eyes widened and snapped back to his face as if you’d forgotten he was still there. “Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

He smiled. You smiled back. Before Hunk closed the door to his own room, he swore he could see a tear track down your cheek.

– – –

It was finally the day, and the tension could be felt throughout the entire castle. Hunk bounced on his feet, repeating the plan in his head, rolling his shoulders. Lance and Shiro were practising hand-to-hand combat. Pidge checked the wirings inside their helmets. Allura spoke with Coran in hushed tones, frantically waving her hands around. Keith sulked in a corner.

You were nowhere to be seen, and it made Hunk uncomfortable.

He’d thought you’d see them off, at least. You wouldn’t be completely alone during the time the rest went on the mission; you’d have Coran to keep you company. But still–your absence was unnerving, and he was positive the others felt it too. They were lingering, hoping you’d show up without having to go get you. He could almost hear Keith biting back some snarky remarks.

At last, Shiro sighed. “We have to go.”

Hunk kept hoping you’d come until his lion shot out of the hangar and joined the others. No sign of you. He ignored the disappointed prick in his chest. Maybe it was too difficult for you to see them leave without you, he told himself. Maybe you’d fallen asleep. Maybe, maybe, maybe. It didn’t give him any certainty. It didn’t make him feel better.

The ride was silent. Everyone was alone with their own thoughts. There wasn’t as much nervous chatter as there usually would have been. It only added to the ominous atmosphere pressing onto them. Something was askew, and yet no one wanted to mention it.

So they kept going.

The view was nice as ever, yet Hunk couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. His mind was filled with worry; for you, for himself, for his friends. So much could go wrong. He should speak up. They weren’t ready enough. They weren’t prepared enough. It was going to go wrong.

If this all goes to shit, if any one of us gets hurt–that’s on you.

He groaned, lowering his face into his hands. When he closed his eyes, all he could see were your own staring back, blazing embers forged out of pure starlight. It made his thoughts muddy and his actions sluggish. He started doubting his every move. Things he used to be absolutely certain of weren’t so clear anymore.

He hated it. He wanted it to stop.

It was probably the stress, he thought. The pressure of this one particular mission that could determine an entire civilization’s fate, and yet… they’d done missions of an even more important scale before, and he had never reacted like this. A voice inside him murmured, but this mission isn’t like the others. Because the others weren’t about you.

“Dammit,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. He vaguely noted how hot his forehead felt.

“All right folks, we’re getting close to the Kianre quadrant. We probably have ten minutes left to go before we reach the concerned sector. Get ready,” said Shiro’s tight voice over the speakers. It wasn’t like him to sound this nervous, Hunk thought. But then again–they’d all sounded nervous. Nothing made any sense anymore.

There was a flash and a kind of humming sound. The air charged with energy. It pressed down on Hunk and he yelped in surprise, squeezing his eyes shut against the bright light suddenly filling his lion’s cockpit.

“Call off the mission,” you said in a hurried voice.

Hunk almost fell out of his chair. “Wh-what?” he spluttered, blinking furiously to get at least some of his sight back. When he did, and he focused on the figure standing behind him, he blinked a few more times for good measure. To make sure what he was seeing was real.

You grabbed his arm, fiery eyes burning into his with an intensity he hadn’t seen before. “Hunk. Call of the mission. Now.”

“I can’t just do that,” he said weakly, head still spinning from the rather unexpected turn of events.

You exhaled sharply. “Right. Okay. But Shiro can.” There was a flash again, and you were gone.

Hunk shook his head, still dazed, and pulled his lion to a halt. In his helmet, Pidge’s voice piped up. “Hunk, what’s wrong?” He didn’t quite know how to answer.

Then the comms crackled. “This is Y/N. Turn around and get back to the castle as quick as you can. The mission’s cancelled.” The connection broke.

There was exactly one second of silence before everyone started talking at once, but there was a flash again and something shot past Hunk’s window. It went too fast for him to make out anything more than a yellow-golden streak, but the resemblance to a shooting star was too big for Hunk to ignore. It was you. Somehow, this stripe of light was you. He was sure of it.

“Wait, wait–what just happened? Was that really Y/N?” Lance squeaked, his face appearing on Hunk’s screen along with all the others. They all looked at Shiro.

He nodded grimly. “I don’t know what that was all about. But they seemed genuinely distressed–”

Hunk interrupted before he could think better of it. “Well, actually, I don’t think they were distressed as much as they were angry. Frustrated.”

“What?”

“You know. I’ve seen them actually distressed. Scared, and everything. This wasn’t that,” he said, shrinking back in his seat because of the looks his teammates were sending him.

“They came for you too?” said Keith sharply. “I knew we couldn’t trust them–!”

“They came to me,” Hunk corrected, irritated. “And we don’t know what they’re on about. Maybe Coran got hold of some new information that changed the whole situation completely. Stop being so quick to judge.”

“Okay, so let’s assume that’s the case,” said Keith angrily. “Coran couldn’t have sent us a message?”

“Maybe there was interference! That’s happened before!” Hunk threw up his arms. “I don’t know, damn it!”

“Guys.” There was a warning in Shiro’s voice Hunk didn’t want to challenge. “We’ll discuss it back at the Castle. Let’s just get going.” He frowned. “Y/N has some explaining to do.”

You were pacing, waiting for them in the hangar. Hunk noticed now that you did look distressed, but as soon as you looked up and met his eyes a huge weight seemed to lift off your shoulders. You still acted strange–a little scary–but you hurried towards him, only stopping in front of him at the last second, looking like you had to restrain yourself from throwing your arms around him. “Thank the stars,” you breathed when every lion touched down.

Keith was out first, and he stomped up to you, yanking off his helmet and pointing an accusatory finger at your chest. “You better start explaining right now–”

“Keith,” hissed Lance from behind him, looking equally cautious and curious as to what you had to say.

You cringed away slightly. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Where’s Coran?” Allura’s eyes grew increasingly worried as they scanned the hangar for him. Then they snapped back to you and filled with fury. “If you’ve laid a single finger on Coran, I swear to–”

“He’s fine,” you assured her quickly, a dark blue blush creeping up on your cheeks. “He’s–in his room. Asleep.” You flinched when you said the words. “He wouldn’t let me go warn you, and, well... not many people know Comets produce a kind of sleeping dust.” You held up a hand. Something resembling sparkly golden sand swirled in between your fingers. Everyone took a step back, their hands hovering around their bayards and their gazes fixed on your hands. “I won’t use it on you!” you said hurriedly. “I never do, when I can help it, but I had no other choice.”

“Like you had no other choice coming to us for help?” Shiro’s voice was dangerously low. Hunk could see the fingers of his prosthetic hand flexing and curling. “It’s time you start talking, Y/N.”

You took a breath. “Most of what I said is true. My people are getting captured by the Galra and they are being drained of their quintessence.”

“But you also lied.” It wasn’t a question, yet Allura glared at you as if she expected an answer.

“I did.” You stuck your chin up slightly, your hands curling to fists at your side. “I was captured by the Galra too. And there are no more of us left. Not free, at least.” You sighed shakily. “The Galra decided they could use me for more than just my quintessence: luring Voltron into a trap. With bait they can’t resist.”

“You,” breathed Hunk. The heavy weight of betrayal settled on his chest, the floor suddenly pulled out from beneath him. His whole world had been turned upside down. You threw him a pleading look. A look that screamed I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

“Someone in need of help,” you said quietly. “They knew you wouldn’t throw me back out. Because you help people–it’s what you’re here to do.” Tears brimmed your eyes and you blinked them away angrily. “Anyway. You were supposed to find the base and ambush it, except they would be ready. You’d be captured along with the lions and eventually killed.”

The simple way you said it made Hunk want to throw up. Or maybe it was the thought of having been so close to death and not even knowing it that made his head spin. He grabbed onto the nearest pillar to steady himself.

“So all this time you knew,” said Shiro in a low voice. Again, it wasn’t a question.

You nodded stiffly. “I couldn’t–I couldn’t let you get killed.”

“Well, that’s a nice sentiment, isn’t it?” Keith growled, making half a step forward. He looked as if he physically wanted to fight you that very second. “You were going to let us get killed. While we were fighting for you.”

“But I didn’t,” you whispered pleadingly. “I know that doesn’t make up for the lies I’ve told. I really truly am sorry.” You looked directly at Allura now. “The Galra General–I don’t know his name–injected a tracker inside of me before sending me here. I managed to cut it out without destroying it.”

On your open palm lay a little metal object, about the size of a pill, covered in your strange night-sky-black blood. It was flickering with a little orange light. “It would have alerted them if they saw I left the Castle. I don’t know how long will go by before they realise you won’t be coming.”

Allura took a step back. “Keep that thing away from me.”

“I’ll take it,” said Pidge quietly before she plucked the little tracking device from your hand. She was the one who looked the less shaken by the whole situation. The one who acted the less hostile towards you. Which Hunk found strange–he’d thought Pidge would be utterly devastated, especially after having expressed her trust in you when everyone else had their suspicions.

Keith had pulled Shiro aside and was whisper-yelling to him and Allura, a mix of anger and smugness on his face. Smugness because he’d been right from the start, Hunk suspected. Lance was awkwardly hovering close enough so he could hear what they were saying, but not be an actual part of the conversation. Lance had liked you from the very first moment. He looked torn between anger and sadness, having run his hands through his hair so many times it stuck up in all directions.

You rubbed your collarbone absent-mindedly. A bandage was wrapped around your chest, barely peeking out from beneath your shirt. Hunk wondered if that was where the tracker had sat before you cut it out. You saw him look. “I kind of ruined one of your knives when I took it out,” you mumbled. “Comet blood’s close to impossible to wash off of metal. The stains are nasty.”

Hunk nodded dumbly. “Good to–good to know.”

“I think I can trace the signal this thing’s reacting to,” Pidge said as she studied the little device. “If I’m careful.”

“I’ll help,” said Hunk. Anything to take his mind off of you.

Pidge smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“Hunk?” Your voice was small, but when Hunk’s eyes met yours, he saw nothing but determination. There was a pause in which neither of you said anything, and Hunk almost lost himself in the fire that burned in them, brighter than ever. “I know you're mad at me, and you have every right to be--but this is my way of fixing a mistake.”

Hunk nodded. There wasn’t much else he could do.

Allura and Shiro decided, despite Keith’s protests, that it was best to keep you in the castle at least for a while. You still knew things that could be of possible use to them, and you didn’t show any signs of wanting to leave. As a matter of fact, when Allura informed you that you were basically their prisoner now, all you did was shrug and say “Okay.”

Not a very villainous thing to do, in Hunk’s opinion.

You were escorted to the cells, Keith and Shiro by your sides. Keith had his bayard drawn, probably because he wanted to look intimidating, because Hunk suspected you could get away from them any second you wanted, if what he’d seen in his lion was anything to go by. But you didn’t. You stayed. You were cooperative. It puzzled Hunk beyond belief.

When you were safely stashed away and Shiro and Keith had come back they all flunked down around the big dining table, plates of food goo waiting for them. It was silent for a good while. Allura had gone up to check on Coran, only returning when she was sure you had been telling the truth and he was merely asleep. With a few taps on the cheek, he was up and about again. A relief, even though Hunk had never thought you’d actually hurt Coran.

Finally Lance threw his fork down. “I just can’t believe…” His voice trailed off. “I mean, Y/N? They’re not like that! None of this makes sense.”

“They confessed, Lance. End of story.” Keith kept his gaze firm on his own plate of goo. He didn’t eat, though. Merely pushed around bits of goo with his fork.

“You know, there are parts of this that don’t make sense,” Pidge chimed in. Hunk didn’t understand how she could just chow away at her food, not with everything that just happened. “There are parts that do. And then there are parts that don’t.” She swallowed. “I get the feeling Y/N’s not telling us everything.”

“I know, Pidge,” said Allura. “It’s bothering me as well.”

“You can just ask them, you know,” Hunk muttered, sagged in his chair. “It’s not like they show resistance. They’ll answer your questions.”

“Do you have something to say, Hunk?” There was the hostile edge to Keith’s voice again.

Hunk exhaled. “No. I just don’t think it was necessary to throw Y/N in a cell.”

“They’re dangerous–”

“Okay, listen. We’re all upset, but we’re forgetting one thing here,” said Hunk, slamming down his fork, finally giving in to his irritation. “Y/N made the right choice in the end. No one got hurt. They answered all our questions and explained themselves. They cut the tracker out of their body to come warn us.”

“They’re still a traitor–!”

“Because you’re not looking at it from their point of view! I’m not saying we should immediately forgive and forget, but we can afford to go a little gentler on them, you know. Their people are being slowly killed and robbed of their quintessence, in case you forgot.”

Hunk hadn’t intended for the snide tone to edge his words, but it had crept in there anyway. He was worked up, and as he pushed his chair back and stood up, he had to curl his hands into fists to keep them from trembling. He snatched a towel up and wet it under the sink. “Don’t follow me.” And he left the room.

You were sitting with your back to the glass wall of your holding cell when Hunk pushed open the door. You immediately straightened, eyes darting around–but there was no fear in them. Only curiosity and caution, but no real fear. He pressed the button that made a panel to your cell slide open and he stepped in.

“You’re not scared I’ll kill you?” you said, a ghost of a smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eyes.

Hunk snorted, crouching down and tugging at the bandage on your chest. “Nah. Not that you’re not capable of doing so,” he added, “because I totally think you are. But I’m not worried about it.”

Your sleeve fell down a bit, and when he pushed aside the last layer of the bandage a gaping black wound was revealed, just between your shoulder and your neck. He flinched slightly at the unfamiliarity of it–but you gently pushed his hand away and tugged the bandage back into place. “It’s okay. Don’t mind that.” Hunk pretended not to see you grimace in pain.

So he twirled the wet towel in his hands and said nothing for a while. He pointedly avoided looking you in the eye.

“You don’t have questions?”

Hunk’s head snapped up. “What?”

You shrugged. “Well. I wasn’t really expecting anyone for at least a bit longer. But you’re here.” You regarded him curiously. “That must mean you have questions.”

Hunk hesitated. “Just one, really.” You waited, eyes expectant. “Why did you save us?”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s not the question I was expecting.”

“I’m still curious.”

You mulled it over. “I guess… I don’t know. I’d started to care about you. You were so keen on helping me, and you didn’t even know who I was before I showed up–lying to you grew more painful by the day. I hated every second of it. Hated myself every second of it.” You cast him a tired look. “They promised me they wouldn’t harm her if I did it, you know. My sister.”

Hunk almost choked on air. “What?”

You sagged, back against the wall and arms crossed. “They said–they said if I refused the operation they’d kill her and make me watch. I didn’t hear anything she said, but the walls are clear. They like to be able to see their specimens.” Your voice was strangely monotone, carefully devoid of any emotion. Hunk listened with horror, unable to speak. “She was begging me not to do it. Begging. Screaming and crying and clawing at the walls. I could read her lips. ‘Don’t you do it, Y/N. Don’t you dare.’ Kyra’s always been a firm believer in peace.”

You pulled out the piece of dark cloth and started rubbing it out of habit. “This is her handkerchief. She made it herself. Used to carry it everywhere she went.”

Hunk took all of that in, mind racing with the bomb you’d just dropped. “You needed to protect your sister.”

“Twin, actually, as you’d call it. We were forged out of the same star.”

“Forged out of the same–”

“It’s Comet birth stuff. It’s complicated.”

“Right.”

A pause. Then you grabbed his hand. Your fingers curled around his, palm pulsing with a heat that coursed through his entire body from the second you touched him. If starlight was an emotion, he was currently experiencing it. He didn’t want it to ever stop.

“My sister is the only one in that facility, Hunk,” you said quietly. “They needed leverage and Kyra was perfect for it. I don’t know where the others are. I doubt they’re even still alive. But I’ve been having–I’ve been having these visions…” You shivered. “She’s getting worse. I don’t think I have much time left. I don’t know what to do.”

Hunk knew he should have been suspicious, or at least cautious to a certain degree–you had just lied to them for a month. This could just be another ploy from the Galra to make the team trust you again, but then he looked you in the eye and there was nothing but honesty there. As if you knew what he was thinking, you pulled your hand away, a dark blue blush dotting your cheeks. His hand felt oddly cold without yours in it.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Hunk. Not now. Not about this.”

“I believe you.” And he meant the words with every fibre of his being.

– – –

“They only wanted to protect their sister.”

Pidge looked up from where she was fiddling with the tracker still covered in your blood (they’d tried cleaning it, but you weren’t exaggerating when you’d said that Comet blood was impossible to get off of metal), her eyes huge behind specialised magnifying glasses. “Say what now?”

Hunk plopped down in front of her. “They were set up. The base we found is the place where the Galra are holding Y/N’s sister. They threatened to kill her if they wouldn’t cooperate.”

Pidge’s face went white. Hunk knew he’d made the right choice to tell her–they were still looking for Matt, and even though she was utterly convinced he was still alive, Hunk could see how scared she was for him. She put her tools down, fingers shaky. “You’re sure about this? How do you know they’re telling the truth?”

“They wouldn’t lie about this. Not right now,” Hunk said, echoing your words from earlier. “We have to help them.”

“We have to tell Shiro and Allura about this is what we have to do.”

“That too. And then help them.”

He started pulling her up but felt she was a little bit reluctant. He frowned. “What?”

She shrugged. “I’m just saying… They’ve lied to us before. This could just be another ploy.”

“Not this time,” Hunk said with all the confidence he could muster. And that was a lot. There weren’t many things that he was sure of at the moment, but you telling the truth about your sister was one of them. “I swear. I can swear on their behalf, they’re telling the truth.”

Allura reacted about the way Hunk had expected.

“It’s a lie,” she snapped immediately, but Hunk could sense something in her crumble. “They’re trying to finish what they started. It’s bullshit.”

“I get why you’d think that,” said Hunk, “but please just hear me out. Or better yet, hear Y/N out. It’s the truth–and it makes perfect sense. It explains why they couldn’t say exactly how they’d found us. It explains why they always were trying to do something; to take their mind off their dying sister. It explains why I found them crying on multiple occasions in their room. It explains everything, Allura.”

Allura looked torn, on the verge of tears. “I don’t want any of us to get hurt, Hunk.”

“But we know what to expect now! We can do this.”

“Wait–what’s this all about?” Keith and Lance stood in the doorway, caution painted upon both their features. Keith’s expression immediately grew guarded as Pidge quickly explained what was going on, but Lance looked, if anything, relieved.

“I knew it. I knew they weren’t a bad person.”

“No,” said Keith flatly. “I’m not having this conversation again.”

“Then don’t. You won’t even try and understand where they’re coming from,” Hunk said, irritation stinging his throat.

“Why don’t we go ask Y/N themselves?” Shiro interjected. “I wanted to go talk to them anyway.”

Keith still looked set, eyes steely. “Fine. I’ll come. To prove to all of you they’re lying again, and stop this once and for all.”

So all seven of them trudged down the stairs again to your cell. If Hunk hadn’t been so worked up, he would have made a comment about how they looked like a herd of sheep looking for their shepherd. But now wasn’t the time for jokes. His mind hummed with anticipation.

You were pacing in your cell when Shiro punched the button for the door to slide open. You looked up, eyebrows raised.

“Get out,” he said. You did. “Explain.” You cast a look at Hunk, then you did.

Everyone listened intently as you told your story. It wasn’t much different from what you’d told Hunk, so he allowed himself to look at the others’ expressions. Allura was closed off. Shiro and Lance were sympathetic, Pidge was wringing her hands–no doubt thinking about Matt–and Keith, of course, being Keith, was scowling, a few feet away from the rest of the group with his arms crossed.

“Y/N–I want to believe you. I really do,” said Allura when you’d finished talking. “But you’ve lied to us before and I don’t know whether to trust you on this.”

You gave a resigned nod. “I know. I’m not blaming you. This time, though, I’m not asking for you to trust me or to help me. I’ll be going back anyway.”

Hunk’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” he blurted.

You looked at him–really looked at him, and he felt like his knees could give out any second. “I failed the operation I was given. That’s okay. But I owe it to my sister to at least own up to that. She’ll die–I will, too, probably–and the last of the Comets will be gone forever. But I’ll go out with a bang, take the base with me and as many of the Galra as I possibly can. I won’t go peacefully. I owe that to my people.”

“No,” Hunk said before he could think better of it. “No, you don’t–you can’t do that. Why would you do that?”

“You don’t get to make this choice for me.” You stood your ground, fists balled at your sides. Before you could go anywhere, though, a hand came to rest on your shoulder.

“Y/N, Hunk’s right,” said Keith–of all people, Keith was the one trying to talk you out of this ridiculous idea. Hunk didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry. “I’m sorry I was a dick to you. But I don’t–there has to be another way. You don’t have to do this.”

You smiled before gently shoving his hand off your shoulder. “Apology accepted. Still gonna do it.” You started marching for the hangar. No one moved for a second, stunned as they all were. Hunk snapped out of his daze first, and he sprinted to catch up with you.

“Y/N! Wait.”

You stiffened. When you turned around, dark blue rimmed your eyes, sorrow and anger and determination swirling in your ember eyes. “Let me do this, Hunk.” You brought a hand up to your chest, taking a small step back when Hunk approached you. “I want to do this.”

“No, you don’t.” Hunk didn’t know exactly what he was saying, but the words started pouring out before he could stop them. The only thought looping around in his mind was Stop them. Save them. Don’t let them get hurt. “You think you don’t have a choice. You do. Let me come with you. Let us all come with you. We can save your sister and we can destroy the base. Together. Please.”

“Hunk–”

“Y/N.” He took another step closer to you. You were close now, looking up at him through your eyelashes, dark tears spilling onto your cheeks. The stone-hard determination in your eyes was starting to crumble. He took your face in his hands, pressing his forehead to yours. “There are mistakes you can’t fix. Let me come with you. Let me help you. Please.”

And then he was kissing you. Your lips were warm, warmer than he’d expected–but he was revelling in it, and when you brought a shaking hand up to his cheek and kissed him back, he felt invincible. Like nothing could touch him, because he was here and he was kissing you.

He pulled away. “Please,” he whispered.

You took a shaky breath, fingers tracing his jaw, chewing the inside of your cheek. Then you nodded, pulling back completely. Again you nodded, more sure of yourself this time. “Okay.”

A noise sounded behind Hunk’s back. He turned to see the rest of the team hanging around the doorway, looking unsure of whether they wanted to come in or not. Allura looked slightly embarrassed, avoiding eye contact. Shiro’s eyes seemed to say: Really? Right now? But he was biting back a smile. Hunk had to hold back a grin of his own as he reached for your hand. He didn’t need to look back if you took it; the heat suddenly slipping in between his fingers was all he needed.

“C’mon,” he called to the others. He couldn’t imagine they’d still refuse to come. All resistance had completely vanished from their expressions. “We have a sister and a species to save.”

You rode with Hunk in his lion, pacing behind his chair as he shot out of the hangar, wringing your hands and muttering under your breath. Hunk cast you a look over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “You okay?”

You gave him a tight smile. “Yeah. Just–worried. About Kyra.” The handkerchief had made its appearance in your hands again.

“We’ll get there soon,” said Hunk. “Kyra’s gonna be fine. You’ll see.” He hoped he was right.

During the trip, they worked up a makeshift plan. As soon as they started talking strategy, you hurried up to the front of the cockpit and steadied yourself on the back of Hunk’s chair, engaging in the conversation with sharp remarks and useful information about the base, the security there, the general layout of the place. Hunk felt a small burst of pride at how quickly you seemed to be able to readjust to a completely unexpected situation, though he also knew you were good at hiding your emotions. He would probably never truly know what went on in your mind–not unless you and him had time to work out… whatever it was that needed to be worked out. He didn’t quite know what you were to each other yet, but if the both of you came out of this in one piece…

He tried to push back the dopey smile threatening to creep up on his lips. This wasn’t the time to be thinking about an eventual future with you, damn it. There were other, more pressing matters at hand.

But your hand was warm on his shoulder and he allowed his mind, just for a moment, to wander and imagine the life you and him could lead. Together.

They arrived at the base way too soon.

They set the lions on a nearby asteroid because it would have moved closer to the base by the time they would need to get out (not much–but anything was something) and all of them piled into Pidge’s lion so she could get them to the base unnoticed. According to you, there was a blind spot at the underside of the base that wasn’t equipped with surveillance cameras, because you’d destroyed them prior to starting your mission.

Shiro had raised an eyebrow at that. “Were you planning something like this?”

You smiled a mischievous smile, and Hunk’s heart fluttered at the sight. “It’s good to be prepared.”

They touched down seemingly unnoticed. You had found some dark rags in Pidge’s lion, and Hunk had helped wrap them around your body, to at least dim the permanent glow that seeped from your skin. “How’s it look?” you said, voice muffled, from behind multiple layers of cloth that kind of made you look like a mummy, leaving only a slit for your eyes to peek through. In cases like these, it was nice that you didn’t need to, like, breathe.

“Fabulous.”

You rolled your eyes, but they crinkled at the corners, and Hunk couldn’t hold back a smile of his own. It probably wasn’t the best idea for the two of you to act all lovey-dovey in the moments before destroying a Galra base and causing general havoc, but hey–it might also be the last chance either of you had.

“Seriously. It looks fine. Very mysterious. It does the job.”

You nodded, eyes pensive. “What if we don’t find her? Or we do, but it’s too late?”

Hunk set his jaw. “We’ll blow up the base and everyone in it.”

You looked at him for a moment, ember eyes ablaze. “Sounds good.”

You were very stealthy when you needed to be.

Footsteps nearly soundless, you didn’t carry any weapons with you except a long knife the size of your forearm you’d borrowed from Keith, and you got rid of the guards you encountered quite effectively. Hunk didn’t even need to unlock his bayard the first two times. He raised an eyebrow at you. You grinned. “I might not be quite as helpless as I made it sound.”

No shit, Hunk thought.

They were lucky to have you. You mumbled to yourself as you led them through the corridors–you’d insisted on taking a small team inside (consisting of him, Pidge, and Keith) while the rest waited for your signal–as you tried to recall exactly where your sister was kept. You had to backtrack a few times, and almost caused them to run into a chattering group of Galra soldiers, but you were doing fine.

You skidded around a corner and halted, looking around, eyes suddenly bright and hopeful. “I know this. I remember this. We’re close. I can feel her.” Hunk almost smiled. They were almost there.

But then the alarms started blaring.

“What,” muttered Pidge as she furiously tapped her wristband. She looked up. “I lost control over the system. I don’t–that’s never happened before.”

“It’s okay, we have enough time,” you said quickly, making a beeline for a particular door on the far edge of the corridor. “Wait here.” And you exploded into dust.

Hunk stopped in his tracks, not quite sure of what just happened. Keith and Pidge looked just as stunned. But on the other side of the door, he could hear grunts and surprised yells, and at one point there was a clang as if something hit the door on the other side. “Uh..”

A minute later, the door hissed open and you beckoned them in. “She’s here. Come on.”

Kyra was trapped inside a cell that looked like a glass tube–but a glass tube filled with liquid and so small she had to twist herself into weird shapes to even fit in. There was almost nothing left of the glow that usually surrounded all Comets; it had dimmed to barely a shimmer rippling across her skin. Her jaw was clenched, and Hunk could see how hard she was trying to break the walls of her confinement, and when he eyes settled on you they went wide and a huge smile spread across her features. Her lips moved.

You ran up to her, pressing a hand to the tube. “Kyra.” You balled your hand to a fist. “I’m getting you out of here.”

Pidge was already moving for the control panel. Her fingers hesitantly moved over the buttons, pressing here and there and waiting for anything to happen. “I have no idea what I’m doing.” She pressed a button again. Something puffed and hissed out steam, but nothing happened.

In the distance, the rumbling of multiple Galra soldiers approached with every passing second. You launched yourself at the panel next to the door, slamming your hand on it so it closed, and then you hacked the panel off the wall with your knife. You’d successfully locked them in.

“It buys us time,” you said in response to Keith’s glare before running back to Pidge. “Can you get it to work?”

“With time. This is different from the other control panels I’ve seen, and everything is in Galran, of course… I can get it to open. How long do you think we’ve got?”

The first bang sounded on the other side of the door. It didn’t dent, but Hunk could have sworn the walls shook. His hands itched for his bayard, and he summoned it, just in case.

“Maybe five minutes,” you said, face steely but nerves lacing your voice. “Lucky us they had to reinforce the insides of this place so we wouldn’t wreak havoc.”

“Then how did you get in?” said Keith, off-topic, more out of nerves than anything else, suspected Hunk.

“They had to worry about us getting out, not getting in.”

“Right.”

A hiss. A splashing sound. And the tube retracted, liquid spilling out of it in waves and Kyra flopping onto the ground, hacking a lung out coughing (did Comets even have lungs?) and throwing her sopping hair out of her face, blinking furiously. You screamed, skidding onto your knees and slamming into her like a freight train, pressing your face into her shoulder and almost squeezing her to death.

“Y/N, Y/N,” Kyra choked out, weakly tapping your arm, “watch the ribs. Ow.”

You immediately let go. “Of course. Yeah. Sorry.” You pulled down the cloth hiding the bottom part of your face, revealing your massive grin. You frowned, pushing strands of sopping wet hair out of your sister’s face, turning her head this way and that to check if she was okay, fussing over her as you sat in front of her on your knees. Hunk suddenly felt like he was watching something very intimate, and he looked away, just for a second.

But then there was a crashing sound, and a dent appeared in the door. Pidge scrambled up, pushing her helmet back on. “We need to go. Y/N.”

You nodded. “Right. Right. Can you walk? Can you streak?”

“Walking, sure. I think. Running, maybe. Streaking, probably not,” said Kyra with a wince. She held on to your arm for a moment before taking some wobbly steps forward. “Whoa. Funny how months locked in a tiny tube can mess up one’s body.” Hunk pretended not to see how you flinched at that.

You caught his eye and nodded at him. “Now.”

Hunk gestured for everyone to flatten themselves against the wall, then told Shiro to hit them with the lasers. Not them, obviously, but the room they were in. And sure enough, a humming sound filled the air, slowly growing louder. It made the hairs on his neck stand up. Then a scorching laser beam blasted the wall next to him, only feet away from his face, and when it died down there was a smoking, red-hot round passage for them to fly through.

You went first, giving your sister’s hand a squeeze before streaking out of the vessel. (Streaking was apparently what it was called when you moved so fast that he couldn’t see anything but–well–a streak of light. Creative naming, right there.) Hunk grabbed Kyra’s hand as he fired up his jetpack and made his way to Lance’s lion, who was on his way to pick them up. You, on the other hand, were planting explosives all around the base.

Sirens were blaring. Galra fighters were pouring out of the base. Everything had to happen quickly.

Lance took them all back to the asteroid. Everyone took back their own lions. In the cockpit of his yellow lion, at the controls, knowing Kyra was sitting in the back and alive and okay, Hunk felt instantly better. He allowed himself to hope–maybe this would work out, after all.

Whilst everyone else joined the battle, he waited for a number of agonising minutes for you to return. Nobody was to engage the base before they knew for sure you were out of range and safe, and the best way to ensure that was for Hunk to wait for you. He tapped the controls with his index finger, muttering under his breath, “Come on, come on, come on,” until he saw a familiar stripe of light zoom towards him.

He opened the hatch and a split second later you came tumbling in, slamming your body against the other side of the cockpit and making the entire lion rock with your speed. You didn’t seem fazed as you scrambled up and yelled “Go! Go, go, go!”

To Hunk, there was nothing more morbidly satisfying than watching the base that had caused you and your sister so much pain blow up in a bajillion little pieces. He actually smiled at it. And he meant it. He was the last one to turn back and follow the others back to the castle.

A familiar weight settled on his shoulder. He turned his head, pressing a kiss to your hand, ignoring Kyra’s startled but smug “Oh?” in the background. You looked down at him, the fire in your eyes not quite died down–but more at peace. A light flickering, as opposed to the violent blazing he’d gotten used to. He liked it like this. It made him feel warm in the chest.

“So where are you going to go after this?” he asked softly, recalling how you’d said Comets were a nomad people. The thought of you leaving was painful, but if that’s what would make you happy…

You grinned, placing your hands around his face. “I think I’ll stay a while.” And then you pressed your lips onto his, hand leaving his face only to flip your sister off who whooped in the background. He giggled against your mouth, pulling away to kiss you on the cheek and pressing his forehead to yours.

“What?” you whispered, a smile of your own curling your lips.

He nuzzled his nose to yours. “Nothing. I’m just–glad. That everything worked out.”

You closed your eyes, muscles finally relaxing. “Me too.”

18 notes · View notes

veridium · 6 years

Text

OC Interview Meme

I have been tagged by @dickeybbqpit to do this wonderful interview, this time I will be doing it for everyone’s favorite petite, sweet badass, Olivia!

I am tagging @orlesianbard, @wardenofmyheart, and @ladylike-foxes but if you have already done one already I’m sorry! whoops!

This is an UNNOFFICIAL face-claim that I am having stand-in for an image since I do not have access to playing DA:I right now in order to craft her character!

1. What is your name?

Well, that would be Olivia.

2. What is your real name?

...Olivia? Oh, I’m so silly, you’re probably suggesting my full name. That would be Olivia Berenice Sinclair.

3. Do you know why you were called that?

My father got to choose my first name, but my mother insisted that ‘Berenice’ be put in somewhere. It’s funny to think I was almost a Berenice, actually! I wonder what my nicknames would be? Hm. Well, my name also means ‘peaceful victory,’ which is a testament to my father’s virtues. If only he knew who he was naming.

4. Are you single or taken?

Oh my goodness, *laughs* how hilarious would it be if I were to tell you I had no sweetheart, if Cassandra heard? She would be so bothered. But, I suppose that means I should say I am happily in love with someone. A certain Seeker who looks very attractive when she’s sparring, and filing reports, and...well, most everything she does.

5. Have any abilities or powers? Besides the power of persuasion? Oh yes, silly, I am a Mage. I did not develop any particular elemental abilities when I was in the Circle -- I preferred Apothecary and Natural sciences. I can make most anything blow to smithereens, or turn to mush, or chemically break down. That is a hard-won skill, I must say. The construction personnel here are not particularly fond of me, now.

7. What’s your eye color?

They are a light hazel, though the Seeker insists they are honey-gold. Oh, whoops, *giggles* should I have not said that? Does that complicate her tough persona?

8. How about your hair color?

Blonde, like my father’s. It was very fair when I was small, but gradually it’s turned darker.

9. Have you any family members?

Hm, well, yes. My father passed many years ago, but I imagine my mother is still alive and well -- I would have received a letter dictating the contrary otherwise. She lives on our small estate in the northeastern countryside of Orlais. Then there are my relations on either side of my family tree, though I was never very close with them. My cousin was the only one I had contact with, and she has recently passed.

10. Oh? What about pets?

Oh, no no, not for me. I could scarcely find the time! I like going for walks out on the trails and watching the wildlife just fine. I don’t need any other tasks to manage. Although, I must say, it would be adorable to have Cassandra be around a puppy, don’t you think?

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

Oh, my, well. That would be...hm. Men who think they know more than me because they see I am pretty, and petite, and kind. Most Orlesian food, besides those little chocolate pastries, uh, I can’t remember the name. The Ambassador would know.

Other than that, I suppose unkind people? I really don’t pick things to dislike in my life, they find me.

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

Making explosive substances is always riveting. But, when I’m not hard at work, I enjoy bathing with candles, reading, walking around the fortress...sometimes, I sit by the fire with Varric and he tells me about his writing. Don’t tell Cassandra, but I know what happens in the next book of Swords & Shields.

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

Yes, yes, but is that really a rarity around here? I can’t find a person who is a tried and true pacifist. Also, if you have done the work I’ve done, and made end’s meat like I have had to, you find nonviolence to be an impossibility.

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

..Technically?

15. What kind of animal are you?

Animal? I could tell you the human speciation term, if that is what you are referring to. But, I am confused as to what you are referring to other than that.

16. Name your worst habits.

Oh, drats. I’m a terrible workaholic. Really, I could spend overnight hours here in the tower if I get a project that I an enthusiastic about. I am also very silly and clumsy, I’m afraid. If it isn’t precise measurements or recipes, I tend to knock into things or stumble.

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

Plenty of people! My friends, Veronica, Naomi, and Theia, the Inquisitor. They are strong and wonderful souls, and I am so blessed to have them in my life. Cassandra, because she is so brilliant and just...well, just amazing. Vivienne, because she is so endlessly confident in herself. Dorian, because his humor is wonderful and he is terribly intelligent.

I suppose the better question would be who I don’t admire!

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

Hm. I love people, I do, but...I would be content never knowing the attention of a man ever again. With Cassandra I feel as though that is no longer a concern, but, I would say I prefer women.

19. Do you go to school?

Yes, I was a very attentive scholar. My mother sent me to school in the Capitol when I was of age, and before that I was tutored. I showed great promise in the performing arts, so when I got a bit older my schooling was focused on those talents most of all.

Truth be told, I consider my time in the Circle the most educationally nourishing time of my life. It was where I found something I was passionate about, and now I am here serving the Inquisition with all that I learned.

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

Marriage was one of the first virtues ever instilled in me, so I...hm, I really don’t know if I have an objective taste for it! I think if the conditions were right, and I felt like I wasn’t giving up a life I wanted to lead, it would be something I would consider.

Children...children, I don’t know. I don’t believe I learned from the right person how to mother, and thus I am not confident motherhood is my fate. There is so much of this world to see, and so much to do, besides be a mother. I could easily spend the rest of my days finding out what all those things are, and not bring a child into this world.

*Laughter* I just imagined what it would be like to proposition Cassandra about parenthood and just the image of her complexion turning to snow, it’s priceless! I may have to steal that question.

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

Besides the children that insist I be their best friend, I suppose not. I am a controversial person here, I believe. A former harlot and Circle Mage, who has no ensnared the heart of one of the most faithful Chantry figures who could be the next Divine? That does not exactly make me the world’s favorite person.

Surely, I don’t see why not, though. I consider myself a splendid person.

22. What are you most afraid of?

Veronica and Theia when they get into arguments. Naomi and I have to almost threaten freezing them to opposite walls in order to get them to cease. Other than that, I don’t have any real fears.

...Okay, well, my dreams would suggest otherwise, but I am not defined by my trauma as a Mage. I believe fears to be unexplored understandings.

23. What do you usually wear?

I have a couple dresses that are simple and practical, that I wear day-to-day. When I travel, it is typically to the Capitol, so I wear more fitted and formal attire. But, for all other excursions, I prefer a light patented armor I had specifically made for me. It is nimble, flexible, and sturdy -- and I must say, makes my butt end look positively delectable.

Nothing beats a masterful seamstress. Absolutely nothing!

24. Do you love someone?

Yes, I love many people! Well, alright, I struggled with romantic love for a long time. I had signed myself away to a life of no real romance, and no true love, to protect myself. I felt calloused from my upbringing along with my experiences as a rogue harlot.

Now, though? Love has been redefined for me, and I intend on exploring its depths for as long as I can. It helps to have someone who inspires such a new direction in your life.

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

Oh, never! Never, ever, surely. How could you ask such a silly thing? *Giggles.*

Although, on many an occasion, I have stained my dresses in such a way where it looks like I had an accident. Those always make Cassandra chuckle when I come back from the tower.

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

What fun this has been, I’ve never been interviewed about my life in such a way before!

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

Well, being a Mage, I am pretty nomadic in life. But, I was born into a comfortable gentry life with my family, so, I could say I’ve experienced multiple areas of class in my short life. I don’t need wealth, though, as much as I have depended on its proximity. I like a quiet life where I can do what I want to do.

28. How many friends do you have?

Oh, many! Many dear friends in my life, whom I adore. There’s the girls, and then some of the allies in the Inquisition -- have you by chance met Cole? He’s such a dear. Ambassador Montilyet and I have much in common. Vivienne and I have struck a good reporte as well.

Friends are wonderful, and I am fortunate to have them in this stressful and uncertain time.

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

Oh! My goodness, you reminded me that tonight there is to be thindleberry pie in the kitchens. I have to bring several spices for it before dusk hits, or else it’ll be terribly bland.

Pie? Pie is delicious. The crust bottom is the best part.

30. Favourite drink?

Honeyed tea, just warm enough to make my tongue tingle!

31. What’s your favourite place?

Somewhere in the countryside with pastureland and woodlands. Oh, and anywhere the Seeker is. *giggles*

32. Are you interested in someone?

Yes, of course. I am interested in you, for example. Where did you come from, and why did you search me out of all people?

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

*Giggles* Precisely one-Seeker’s-hand’s worth.

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

Lake, because that would suggest there is lush land around it, and I love valleys and meadows where there are flowers and trees to enjoy.

35. What’s your type?

Someone honorable, who is passionate about what they do! I cannot be with anyone who is apathetic or uninterested in life’s intricacies. Someone who is kindhearted and has respectable virtues. Someone who loves to be impulsive and silly sometimes! There has to be sweetness to balance out life’s bitterness.

Oh, and I have to say, if they have dark hair and battle scars, that also melts my lard, if you know what I mean.

36. Any fetishes?

*Laughs* No! I don’t need them to be creative.

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

I prefer the term “Persuasive.” But also, I’m afraid I’m far too flexible and nimble to simply remain on a pillow. I have talents, and just because I’m no longer utilizing them to survive, doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy partaking in them.

Plus, it is thrilling to find out what makes someone with an assertive and dominant personality feel more...comfortable. *giggles*

38. Camping or indoors?

Camping, certainly! And with those wonderful fleece blankets that come out of the Hinterlands? Agh, there is nothing more beautifully engrossing.

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

I mean, no, but I do have a kettle of jasper elixir on the fire and it is temperamental once it gets to a certain temperature. Oh, I should show you what it is when we are done here! It turns water into....well, you’ll see!

40. Now it’s over!

Oh, splendid! Let’s go, I have much to show you!

Thank you again for tagging me!

#oc stuff #olivia sinclair #oc meme #long post #I love bby Olivia

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sunriseoverastorea · 6 years

Text

Dreams

♬ Hans Zimmer - Aurora

Rajya spreads out a map on the table, unfolding it with care, smoothing down each corner thoroughly, though they immediately curl back up. Marea sits across from her expectantly, a contented smile on her youthful, gaunt face.

“We are here,” Rajya begins, placing one hooked claw in the circumference of Divinity's Reach, where Rurikton would be. “And I came from around—well, here.” She slides her claw to the Black Citadel, and then encircles all of Ascalon, even Ebonhawke. Marea gazes at the map, rapt.

“You've lived everywhere in all of A—Ascalon?”

“No, no, I mean that all of Ascalon was my home. To call a place home, you do not specifically have to live there. The land was all I needed, so wherever the land was, was home to me.”

“Oh. So, does that mean that, that, just because I live in the city doesn't mean it's my home?”

“If you do not feel at home here, then no.”

Marea tilts her head, gently poking the Reach on the map. “It does feel like home, now. But not the city, just this place. And not even this place, more like—y—you. Just you.”

Rajya lifts her eyes from the map, meeting Marea's for a moment. The little girl's eyes seem to overflow with kindness, round gray wells that nourish her own, for now, for a time. But tomorrow the wells will fill with anger, and pages ripped from books will burn to ashes in the fireplace.

“I am glad you think so, Marea.” She tenderly begins to fold up the map, handling it as if it were glass, when Marea smacks her hand down on it with aplomb.

“Wait!” she exclaims, pushing the map flat and running her hands over the western edge. “What's out here? Beyond the sea?”

“Nothing. Did I not just teach you to read? It's the Unending Sea,” Rajya counters with a playful huff, patting the pouting Marea on the head, before pulling the map out from under her hands.

“It can't really be unending, can it? There's no s—such thing. There's no, no unending islands, or woodses, or lakes.”

“It can be whatever it wants to be. However, it is true that we only call it 'unending' because we do not know how long it goes on for, and what lies beyond it. There is enough mystery in Tyria without sacrificing lives to the unknown.”

“I guess so,” Marea concedes, sitting back in her chair and biting at her thumbnail. “It just seems—it—I dunno what I want to say.”

As Rajya wedges the map between two books on a tall shelf, she looks back at Marea, fallen silent. The girl looks right back at her, though her pale eyes are distant now, unfocused.

The charr goes about her nightly routine, extinguishing candles with the barest puff of air, nudging dust over the cinders in the fireplace, opening the front door to dump buckets of water into the street, then replacing the buckets under leaky sections of ceiling.

“Rained a lot this week, huh?”

She blinks at Marea, nodding slowly.

“I wonder what the rain looks like over the Unending Sea?”

“Most likely just as all other rain does, though I suppose we will never know.”

Rajya snuffs the last candle between her claws, and then only moonlight gives the room a faint bluish glow, punctuated by the glistening gems of crimson in the fireplace, struggling to breathe through ash. Marea gets down on her knees and blows on the ashes, making space for the dying flames to flicker once again.

Pen Yfan watches the stars, perched on the railing of the ship. It bobs gently in the sleepy sea, soothing, like the arms of a mother she never had. A mother Rajya never saw, a mother Marea never knew. Perhaps Marea is luckiest of them all, in that regard—she was tossed aside, and found by someone who would love her, in time. A time too long to undo what had been done to her, but perhaps she was softened by it.

Pen thinks it must be strange to grow up. To have been a child, incapable of understanding how a wide glass of water and a tall glass could hold the same amount of liquid. In that regard, she is the lucky one—she never had to grow up, she simply was. And she needn't spend as much time learning about the hardships of the world as her kin, thanks to Rajya. Thanks to Rajya, she already knew, she had already lived a sorrowful life with a heart full of hope, and all that was left to do was continue that life, kindle that hope in her own soul, and kindle it in Marea's.

So Rajya was the unlucky one. Coming to the aid of others, however unlikely and unusual, and lifting them up from their own personal ignorance. And she received nothing in return, nothing but fire and fury. For what greater offense to a Separatist could there be, than a pacifist charr with a human daughter, writing treatises on peace and surrender?

Muffled footsteps catch her ear, and she looks over her shoulder, watching the hunched silhouette of Captain Bashere make his way to the bow of the ship. White sails flap languidly about his head, the wings of great birds beckoning him onward into the sea. He stops, planting his feet firmly on the deck, and slips his hands in his pockets, gazing wordlessly over the undulating ocean, like black glass under the gaze of the opalescent moon.

“Captain,” Pen says softly, coming up on his left side. “It is very late. Should you not be sleeping?”

He gives her a long sideways glance, sniffing once.

“Aye, in time. What're you, my mother?”

Pen perks up at that, her gentle smile broadening.

“No, do not be silly. I only worry because I have seen you out here so late many times these last few weeks. Does something trouble your dreams?”

“Nothing of that spiritual sort, not me. I'm firmly grounded in the present.”

“Yet you search the Unending Sea for a giant squid?”

“And you look for a girl who's barely human riding around in a blue and white airship. How you expect to see that from down here, eh?”

“I have eyes, sir—oh, I did not mean for that to sound so sassy!” She covers her mouth, giggling for a moment. “I am sorry, I was aiming for just a little bit sassy. You know how these things are.”

“Do I? I've never been a fourteen year old girl, can't be too sure.”

“Neither have I, so we're in the same boat—oh!”

Bashere finally turns his head to stare at her, face blank.

“You think I've never heard that pun before? Goddamn sylvari, acting like they ain't never stepped outside the jungle.”

“You got me. Those darn sylvari, so excitable.”

He shifts his gaze back to the sea, the weathered wrinkles on his face filling with silver moonlight. Pen steps a little closer, peering up at him earnestly.

“Sir, please forgive me for prying, but I have wanted to ask since we left port, and there has never seemed to be a chance—what are we doing out here?”

“Giant squid, said it yourself.”

“No, really. Why would you care about some squid? Has it done something to you? Did it kill your family?”

“Oh yes, my family lives on the open sea, just floating about on a raft, and one day--”

“--Come on, Captain! Throw me a—a bone, is it? That is the expression, correct?”

Bashere moves suddenly, knocking on the side of her head with his fist, as if she were a door to be answered.

“You're a marvel, the walking talking echo chamber.”

“It is a gift, truly, when I get a moment's peace from the voices in my head.”

“I don't wanna hear about that weird Pale Tree stuff.”

“I have little experience with the Pale Tree. Her voice has always been the softest among the din.”

Bashere raises a brow at her, and Pen does her best to raise one back, though both brows go up at the same time. Finally, with a scoff of distaste, Bashere pulls a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it in one smooth motion and touching it to his lips.

“Fine, you wanna know what I'm doing out here? I'm chasing stories.” A crisp, salty breeze blows his long gray hair back from his face, and the sails of the ship flap steadily behind them. “Stories I been hearing all my life. Come from fishermen, so the sea is all my family knows. My great uncle was lost in the Unending Sea, on a damned stupid quest to find sunken treasure, but his brother made it back to tell the tale. Told us all about a squid the size of a house, how it came outta the sea in a raging storm and swallowed their ship from beneath.”

“And you believe this story? It sounds rather far-fetched.”

“Aye, why shouldn't I? Old man like me, got no wife or kids, no friends. Just a crew that wants to chase my family legend. Not a bad way to die.”

“You, you think we are going to die out here?” Pen's eyes widen, and she leans in a little closer, trying to get him to look at her.

“No, not we.” He shoos her with a wave of his hand. “Me, myself and I, and all my men that want to come with me.”

“But why? Why would you want to perish in the middle of nowhere, with such a frightening death?”

“Because I want to experience something!” Bashere snaps, suddenly whipping around to face Pen. She shrinks slightly at the anger in his tired eyes. “Not everyone's life is adventure and endless wonder, you know! Most of us wake up, work, go to bed, and do it all over again, every single day. We ain't like your friend up in the sky, with her personalized airship and metal arms. When a man like me loses an arm, a million blessings don't fall with the rain and remake me better than I was before. No, I suffer, and I age, until life has passed me by and I've never done a damn thing.”

“Oh,” Pen breathes out, sympathy softening her shoulders. “So, what you are thinking is, perhaps your great uncle was not such a fool after all?”

“What makes you say that?”

“He lived his life how he wished, and then he died. Now, you are doing the same. You are your own mechanical girl in the sky.”

“By the Six, why would Raigar ever hire a dunce like you?”

Pen shrugs, smiling lopsidedly. “I asked him very nicely, and would have persisted if he did not take me on.”

“Hmph. Stubborn women. Same whether they got skin or bark.”

With one last breath, Bashere flings the cigarette into the sea, brushes his hands off on his trousers, and turns back to the ship, staring for a long moment at the cabin, looming darkly against the grain of the stars.

“Bet the squid is a woman. We'll find her, soon enough.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Pen chimes helpfully, missing the way he rolls his eyes as he saunters off, disappearing between the ghostly sails.

Once she's sure he has left, Pen turns back to the bow, to the bobbing cradle of the sea, and wraps her arms around her chest, closing her eyes and listening to the crush of the waves. Rajya sleeps, wandering in the Mists far from Pen's mind, and Pen, not even on a map where a child can point at her head, fills to brimming with a strange peace, an emptiness, a delicate but certain sense of self that she has never felt before.

In the soothing surge of the unknown, she is Pen Yfan, all alone and nothing more.

High above and not so far off, Marea lies on her back on the deck of the Horizon, watching her own stars glide by. In them she sees her vision from between the standing stones, she sees the void and the twinkling lights that fill it. It chills her chest, but sets her mind afire. The possibility in each little light—endless possibility—endless chances for freedom, for escape, to find the life she was meant to live. By day, she scans the seas and does her best to track the winds and search for storms. At night, she can hardly sleep, seized in her dreams by that primal terror of the nothingness that lies somewhere beyond her reach. So instead of sleeping, she makes up her own dreams, awake, and sometimes she forgets if they are dreams or not. It has been a long time since she went so long without sleep. But years ago, when she avoided it at all costs, she does vaguely remember seeing things that were not there.

Eyes are upon her. She sits up, pouting with displeasure, and comes face to face with Evelina. The woman squats on the deck before her, red hair falling loose around deep green eyes, brown skin seeming to shimmer under the moon. They stare at each other, silent, unblinking, until Marea has to blink, she just has to, and then her lover's voice appears in her mind, clear as day and sultry as the blanket of night that hovers over them.

“What don't you have? Am I not enough?”

The thin strap of her dress slips down her shoulder, and Marea reaches out a hand as if to touch it, but she stops short, fingers twitching, a sigh escaping her lips.

“It's not you that's the problem. It's me. I told you that.”

“You wrote me a letter. We're not fifteen, you can do better than that.”

“I didn't want to tell you,” Marea whispers, leaning in closer, staring at those unblinking emerald eyes. “I didn't want you to be mad at me for doing what I have to do.”

She jumps as another voice suddenly calls to her, cloying, deep and comforting, the song of a spider as it winds you in its web. She looks to her left, and there is a familiar face, one that she hasn't seen in months—Noctis, scarlet eyes to match her own, dark hair resting perfectly at his shoulders. As she stares at him, wide-eyed, he slips on his sunglasses, and his face becomes unreadable. The handsome jaw and cold smile of a stranger.

“What do you have to do? You're just a kitten, after all.”

“And this is why I broke up with you, you goddamn fuck face,” Marea exclaims without hesitation, throwing her arms in the air. “I'm not just a toy for your amusement. You forgot that somewhere along the way, huh?”

“Don't avoid the question. You're just like me. Your desire to go to the Mists is more important to you than your love for your girlfriend. Even more important than your love for Raigar! A brother to you, and you would just leave him behind. What a bad kitten. Ungrateful. Should've stuffed him in the cargo bay and taken him by force.”

“Oh, shut up. Nobody invited you,” Marea snaps, waving her hand in his face.

She stiffens at a sudden pressure on her wrist. The rough scrape of bark, tugging at her gently. She swings her head around to her right side, and her chest aches with guilt at the sight of Nobu. Ridged brown bark barely illuminated by its own glow, his slender, tall frame like that of a child beside Noctis and Evelina, he doesn't touch her, yet she feels his hand against her skin. Black eyes meet hers, and she swears she can hear the flutter of wings, far off in the sky.

“Why do you have to do this? You have a choice. There is always a choice.” His imperious sylvari accent suddenly sounds foreign in her ears.

“And I made my choice. What're you even doing here? You don't care about me anymore.”

“I will always care about you, Marea.”

“Well aren't you a saint.”

“You have a home now, Marea.”

“Do I? Do I though? Could I really ever be at home in a place called Tyria?”

The visions disappear in the blink of an eye, as one last voice speaks up behind her.

“What do you want, little one?”

Slowly, she gets to her feet, turning to face Raigar. He stands with his back to the bow, arms crossed over his broad chest, gazing down at her with a kind smile. Despite that smile, sadness sits heavy in his eyes, haloed by golden hair that gleams in the light of the stars. Marea bows her head for a moment, looking at their feet, nearly toe to toe.

“I want to be free.”

“Free from what?”

She feels his hand tilting her chin up, and this time she sees it, too. Gently, she places her hand on his, brow furrowing as she meets his gaze.

“I'm—not sure. A lot of things.”

“Hm. Is that all?”

“Shackles. I feel like I'm in shackles, no matter where I go. And I just want to fly. And I want to be alone. And I want to know what it's like to, to feel, to feel at peace.”

“You want to know peace?” His gaze shifts past her, into some great, impenetrable distance. “Peace doesn't exist. Not in this life. It's not too late to turn back, Marea.”

“I won't give up,” she says suddenly, forcing his hand away from her face, but holding tight to it still. “You may have given up, but I won't. Rajya taught me that the world outside the city was a place of wonder, and hope. For a time it was, but that time is long past. Now I have to go farther. Farther, and I know I will find the place I'm looking for, I know it. It's your place. With the hills and the rivers and the horses.”

“Rohan,” the word drifts on the wind, so soft and faint amongst the whisper of the waves she almost thinks she imagined it, “My homeland. I hope it meets your expectations.”

“If I can ever get there,” she whispers back, her fingers suddenly closing on air.

Raigar's smile fades, the starlight dulls upon his hair, and shade falls upon his blue eyes. He nods once, before he turns away, taking two steps to stand upon the bow.

“You'll get there. And then you'll know what home is.”

She lurches forward to grab him as he takes a step into the constellations. And instead of falling, he fades away, like mist caught by the golden eye of the sun.

She stays like that, hand hovering, as if waiting for him to return and take it. Eventually, the sky lightens on a new day. On the horizon, steel gray storm clouds gather, stacked high into the heavens, and a single streak of lightning pierces the ocean, like an X, marking the spot. She returns to the cabin, to the wheel. And she clenches it tight as she puts the ship on a course to the eye of the storm.

#I LOVE THIS BIT #the last section was so fun to write #it's been a while since I've loved a marea bit this much >.<#chasing arcadia #marea the silent #pen yfan #rajya sleekfur #and next time she visits the void!!#rp post

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flipsideds · 6 years

Text

“ — oh, uhm... i hope you don’t mind, but i was actually saving that last sugar cube for a pal of mine. RANDY. yeah, i... i’m sure there’s more oranges at the store? if you’d maybe want to check there? ”

alternatively: i have z e r o p e r c e n t self-control & am ready to introduce you to my little honeysuckle dewdrop, ollie smith !!

* ━ ━ have you met brattleboro's very own BOTANY STUDENT / HORTICULTURAL APPRENTICE yet ? if you haven’t, let me introduce you to OLEANDER “OLLIE” MICHAEL SMITH — a TWENTY - TWO year old CISMALE, he was last seen ARTFULLY PLATING SUGAR CUBES & ORANGE SLICES FOR HIS DAILY BREAKFAST WITH THE BEES whilst listening to HERE COMES THE SUN. oft described as soft-spoken, mild, breezy & acquiescent, he won't ever tell you that A FINE SELECTION OF BRATTLEBORO’S BEES HAVE TAKEN UP RESIDENCE IN HIS HAIR, A RESULT OF HIS LONG-STANDING PROTECTION PACT WITH THEM: IF THE BEES ARE THREATENED IN ANY WAY, HE WILL NOT HESITATE, BITCH ! ; at least that's what the rumour is around town. // TARJEI SANDVIK MOE.

here’s the buzz concerning oleander smith :

randy is a bee. he is ollie’s very best bee friend. he takes the cake when it comes to loyalty and priority, and if you cannot handle that, then ollie concludes your presence can probably be best made useful elsewhere.

if his bees don’t trust you, game over. sorry, ollie doesn’t make the rules !!

he’s studying botany, looking to get his masters! so in the meantime, he’s also working a paid apprenticeship with brattleboro parks & rec, maintaining the local butterfly gardens in the town center. catch him watering the plants daily, taking very frequent breaks to smell the flowers and whisper to them about how pretty & special they are!!!

he has mfing bees?? living in his hair?? like a boss tbh. and when they’re really happy and/or he’s asleep, they form a lil halo around his head and it’s 2 cute to handle. basically, the bees and ollie have a mutual protection pact, the details of which i’ll briefly outline below.

adores children, so whenever little kids come to the gardens for field trips or whatever he’s always stooped in the dirt with them, introducing them to butterflies that casually perch on his fingertips. i swear, this kid is the friggin’ flower/insect whisperer.

how the arrangement came to bee :

so a young 5 y/o ollie got stung by a bee one day. he cried a lot, not about the sting but rather about the bee dying?? so baby ollie held a full funeral service for it near its hive and then began bringing bereavement meals (sugar cubes, etc.) to the bees in the wake of their loved one’s absence, as is obviously customary when one mourns the loss of a fallen bee. he started visiting the bees more frequently, having his breakfasts outdoors in his family’s back yard just to chat with them.

in elementary school, ollie got bullied pretty badly because kids caught him talking to ‘no one’ (aka his bees). he’d always been picked on for his size and for having two moms, but this one awful kid decided to continue this teasing further than small comments and jeers. so one day, cute lil fetus ollie tries to play kickball with the other kids and is instead kicked in the shins. his balance was awful so he toppled to the ground, scraping his knee and his left cheek in the process. the other kids found this hilarious -- ollie’s walk home featured slumped shoulders and an abundance of sniffles.

his moms didn’t really do much about it tbh?? beatrice and debbie don’t believe in aggravating others; they’re pacifists at heart. so they encourage ollie to “talk it out” with his aggressor.

a similar physical teasing happens the next day. instead of telling his moms about it, ollie returns home and goes straight to the hive to tell his bees. they are BUZZING with anger.

ollie goes to school the next morning. same shit, different day. this trend continues for about two weeks before the bees finally decide enough is enough. one of ollie’s bestest bee buddies, randy, tags along to school without making himself known. he hides away in the hood of ollie’s sweater. the bully kid tries his usual teasing at recess and manages to shove ollie onto the blacktop when ollie tries to reason with him. he’s about to do more damage with his freakin’ buzz lightyear light-up sneakers when wham!! he’s stung! by a bee! right on his nose!

the kicker is this kid was like... hella allergic to bee stings? so he nearly died and never messed with ollie again. and from then on, the bees have vowed to protect ollie because they don’t buy into humankind’s capacity for kindness.

they casually alternate shifts living in his hair, y’know? casual. and they ADORE his current line of work, so it’s a winning situation for everyone involved.

personality ? more like personali-bee, am i right ladies ?? :

honestly people around town probably think he's got some marbles loose because more often than not he will converse with the bees out loud?? but they've got this ~ emotional bond ~ too, which makes communicating non-verbally just as effective?

he's such a nerd, adores everything about botany and flowers and biology.

lil sunshine gumdrop. but his bees WILL attack people who wrong him, or threaten him, or give off the vibe of being capable of hurting him.

ollie is such a pacifist but he doesn't force his bees to abide by the same moral code.

you can routinely find him outside the local grocery store asking for donations to save the bees !!

also catch him lecturing the locals on how bees have pure hearts, therefore humans should not be afraid, nor should they deem killing them the answer !!!

lavender macaroons are his favorite.

any sweets, also.

he takes his tea with milk and honey, and a dollop of sunshine.

he has a habit of humming to himself when he’s gardening.

will routinely pose questions with an unironic “huh?” at the end.

christopher robin in another life, probably.

he’s always wearing some form of gentle color. baby blues, lavenders, etc.

he has an adorable little gardening hat. and probably always has dainty little gardening gloves tucked into the back pocket of his jeans because you just... never know when you might encounter a plant in need, ok??

very not used to being the center of anyone’s attention, so he’s very softspoken. like, even the silent evening air is like, could you pls speak up, lil gumdrop?

blushes like, all the time?

his best trait is def his smile. it just blossoms across his features and lowkey some people think the town gardens are flourishing so much just because of his sheer capacity for peace, luv, & joy.

* BLACK EYED P E A S BEES VC * hive got a feeling ( whoo hoo ) that tonight’s gonna bee a good night :

pals! he’s such a Soft Boi

people who wholeheartedly despise bees, even if it’s just in an effort to make ollie squirm.

fellow nature enthusiasts!

his mail carrier? because i have this headcanon where they’ll have the most basic conversations in the morning, but they’re always so uplifting and cute?

someone who anticipates his tendency to forego a grocery basket and then spill everything as he tries to juggle it all toward the register.

bad influence!! he’s so innocent? someone attempt to lure him to the dark side?

“ excuse me miss, pls stop stepping on the flowers... if you can? if it’s not too difficult? it’s just -- they’re not exactly privy to moving out of your path, and they prefer to be alive and not be crushed. so if at all possible..... it would mean a lot to them.”

someone who calls him to take care of spiders/caterpillars/other insects that are in their home. they’re all freaked and ready to kill, but ollie just rolls in and gingerly picks up the lil guys, coos a bit. maybe asks them how their day was, what got them into this house to begin with. turns to his friend, informs them that their spider pal here came inside because they really wanted to get a better look at their interior design -- they embroidered pillows in the living room are so tasteful.

this is a M E S S but i owed it to myself to get it up! so pls hit me up on here or discord 2 plot! xoxo gossip linc

#suburbs.intro #❀ don't be a buzzkill ! interactions.#❀ in full bloom ! reflection.#❀ milk & honey ! isms.#ignore the tag dump i'm just accessing all dem life hacks

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themalyniumfalcon · 7 years

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My Past Lives: Joe

So a little context: There is no proof that I actually have a past life, or that any of this is true, but these are feelings or ideas that I have had that have made themselves my truths. I don’t know what to think of the stories I’ve conjured up, but I believe that my soul is not my own. I have lived as other people in other ages in other places. I’m not alone on these feelings, and I hope others find who they were before they were themselves. •-• Joe. I imagine Joe was born around 1952 in Pennsylvania. He had a lower middle class family and a pretty average life. He was a free spirited, and knew from adolescence that he was not meant to stay in his home town. He was a free spirit, and he needed adventure. I imagine Joe to have hair like wheat, it was golden and rested at his shoulders. He was a lanky guy, but was not too tall, maybe 5'11" or so. I have no inkling of his eye color, but I feel that he had freckles, like me. In high school, Joe probably started smoking marijuana. It was recreational and he enjoyed doing it. This shouldn’t be a surprise, as it was the 1960s when he was in high school. Joe is what I would consider a true hippie. He enjoyed plant life and free love and was a passionate pacifist. Also, he was a definite stoner. Another thing to know about Joe is that he was depressed. He never liked himself too much and nothing in life seemed to excite him, but that’s not why he got high. He got high because he wanted to. Around age seventeen, Joe started dating a girl. She was pretty and was as much of a hippie as he was. They made plans to move out to California after they graduated, and they did. In 1970, they took Joe’s car, packed it full and headed out to California. They hadn’t been in California long when Joe’s girlfriend got pregnant. Joe was thrilled to have a child, and his girlfriend was happy to start a life with him, but soon things started to go downhill in their relationship. Joe’s girlfriend started to become influenced by her father, who believed that Joe was a bad influence and that she should move back home with the baby. The baby, a little girl, was born in 1971 and Joe and his girlfriend lived together for a nearly a year. Joe stopped smoking in the house, started working more hours, and seemed to be pulling out of his depression. That little girl was the light of his life, and he loved her more than anything. But, no matter how much money he made, or how much he loved his daughter, Joe’s girlfriend wasn’t satisfied. She left Joe and took their daughter with her. She moved back home for a little while, which crushed Joe, as he couldn’t see his daughter. It was probably around 1973 when Joe’s ex-girlfriend and daughter moved back to California. They moved in with a friend and his ex started working a waitressing job. It took some persistence, but Joe was able to see his daughter again, quite often actually, and he started to become happier. Things were pretty steady from there. Joe kept working, kept getting high, found a couple new girlfriends and broke up with them, bought a new car and new apartment, and saw his daughter a couple times a week. It was a good life and Joe was content. Still depressed, but content. I imagine it was around 1978 when Joe, now 26, was heading over one night to see his daughter when he got into a car accident. The accident wasn’t his fault, he was sober and alert, but the other driver was neither of those things. The other driver hit Joe’s car head-on and it killed him. Joe died instantly. No pain or suffering, just death. •-• So, that’s Joe. Make what you want of it, but that’s who I feel I was before I was me. I feel a connection to this narrative and am happy that I am finally sharing it. I hope Joe found peace with himself, and I hope I can find peace in this life.

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hydrangeatee-blog · 7 years

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Forget Me Not

Papyrus reconnects with a distant memory to find out if the great Papyrus is really so great...before it’s too late.

I wrote this with @crisiskode in mind because he is such an amazing person and I hope that as time goes on he can truly realize how much he means to me and so many others. Thank you for being such a wonderful friend to me,

And for everyone else reading, I hope this reminds you to dig deep and find your worth every day, no matter how daunting that may seem at times.

Was he...dreaming?

Last he remembered, Papyrus had been standing in a torrent of snow, confronting the human who’d committed quite a few dastardly deeds in the underground. Not even confronting, really, in spite of all that. He was forgiving them. A simple matter of reverse psychology, was it not? Provide the reaction opposite of what’s usually expected, and you’ll receive the same result. He whole-heartedly believed it. Believed in them. Even as the world spun, sinking to the ground as everything went dark, succumbing to immense pressure...cracking...shattering…

“Sans…?”

His body felt oddly light; in fact, he couldn’t feel much at all. He was fully in control of his actions and aware of his surroundings, yet what stretched out before him was unlike any previous figments of his imagination. It seemed as though the aforementioned light and darkness had split into two distinct paths; the first glistening bright like sunlight reflecting on snow, the other ebbing with impossible, muted colors and the same aura he’d felt right before--

This wasn’t a dream, was it?

Papyrus sank to his knees. “T-the human...would they have...e-even after I put my faith in them...? This can’t happen...w-who will take care of Sans? Who will make him pick up his sock, a-and feed him a healthy, balanced diet of spaghetti...who will read bedtime stories with him…”

Tears blurred his vision as the darkness began to encroach upon him in suffocating waves, whispers of ovations of self-destructive thoughts buzzing louder and louder in every direction. “ S-So then...this is it? Heh...good riddance, honestly. They’ll be...better off without me. Who am I kidding, Sans will thrive not having to live in my shadow...this will be the best thing to happen to the entire underground…”

A sensation like lava melting torturously slow crept along his body, eyes blacking out entirely, static crackling in his vision. “Forget...that I ever existed…”

The shadows began to shape and shift, as though eager to swallow him up, only to begin taking shape in a vaguely familiar form. “Attempting to erase your shortcomings from the universe, eh?” A wispy voice chuckled softly as its owner materialized before Papyrus. “Like father...like son.”

A pause. “W-who are you...?”

Gaster regarded the young skeleton with a sad smile. Look at how much he’d grown...he reached out and gingerly linked their digits together, peering at him through the perfectly matching holes in their hands. “I’ve missed you, so much…”

A goofy, lopsided grin...a long trench coat that may have been all the stars he’d ever dreamed of seeing strung together...Papyrus regarded him like a distant de ja vu that faded quickly as it came. “I...don’t understand…”

Of course he wouldn’t. Glimmering pupils of otherwise empty eyes averted themselves in thought. If they stayed here together, he wouldn’t be alone anymore...after all, they were so much alike...too much alike. No. That wouldn’t be right. His right pupil flickered purple, magic trickling along Papyrus’ body. “You may not know me, but I know too much about you…” he said as the corruption faded from Papyrus, “to allow you to travel the same path I did.” Before the other could protest, he grasped his hand once more.

Nipping cold, playful snowflakes tickled Papyrus’ face as children laughed and scurried about. “W-we’re back in Snowdin Town?”

Gaster nodded shortly. “In a manner of speaking. I have taken you back in time so that you may observe and draw your own conclusions, hopefully based on logic rather than emotion.”

The same expression of a lost puppy seemed permanently glued to the younger skeleton’s features now, but he obeyed and fell quiet, listening to the idle chatter of some passerby.

“Did ya hear about those wacky skeletons that barged into town? Er, was it last week, last month? Time seems to fly by with some new shenanigan every day, eh?” said an elderly bunny to a youth.

“I know, right! Everything used to be so boring and dull. And like, that one big guy is such a cutie!” replied the youngster, a sparkle in her eyes.

Big guy? Obviously it was Sans; he always did have a way of attracting--

“Er, heightwise or widthwise big guy?”

“Heightwise, of course!”

Papyrus gasped, clasping his hands over his mouth. “R-really? Me...cute? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before…”

Gaster chuckled, nodding shortly and guiding him along once more, this time with less resistance. They wandered undetected through gushing waterfalls and sweltering canyons bursting with lava, and sure enough there was no shortage of hubbub regarding the mysterious skeleton brothers. Of course, not every bit of it was positive…

“That Sans sleeps at his post too often, I mean seriously! You walk by and he’s just snoozing away! What’s with that?” grouched a sea urchin. “The Papyrus lad, though, I hear he’s always out and at it, working to serve our King! We need more young people who appreciate the value of hard work!”

“Hm, how interesting. And here you thought your effort wasn’t noticed at all...Papyrus?” Upon the awkward silence that ensued, Gaster turned to Papyrus, who was clenching his fists as his eyes watered.

“That’s not true...of course I would nag him time and time again, but I know he was always pulling his weight and then some...he has sentry stations in all the districts, of course he’d be tired! I...I just...thought he could do better, still…” Tears fell down his face, and he buried his head in his hands. “I’m sure without me around, he’ll do much better...he won’t have so much pressure on him and he can truly shine...and be who he wants to be…”

A breathy sigh escaped Gaster’s mouth. “Come. I’ve one more thing to show you.”

The scene shifted around them, changing from peaceful surroundings to screaming and shouting figures charging about with spears and torches and magic flying in all directions. Dust surrounded by armor littered the ground; a Royal Guard sat crying, clutching one of the metal hunks as a monster charged at him, raising their spear and…

“U-Undyne? But that’s...is this..the Royal Guard? T-they’re all...what’s going on?!” Papyrus trembled, feeling sick to his core.

“Heh...good. That’s the last of them here.” Undyne yanked her spear out of the now lifeless armor. She closed her eyes, a pained grimace overtaking her features as she fell to one knee. “Papyrus...I’m sorry. I know this is not what you would have wanted...but no one is safe anymore. We cannot trust them any longer…” Her fists balled, and she turned to the mass of troops assembled before her. “Because if HIS death will not be avenged by the Queen...if SHE passes off even a single homicide as a reason to show more LOVE…” She punched the air, her wild crimson hair blowing fiercely in the wind. “THEN LET US TAKE ALL OF OUR L.O.V.E TO HER AND END THIS! ONCE AND FOR ALL! FOR PAPYRUS!”

“FOR PAPYRUS!!” A defeaning roar rose from the crowd. As they charged after their leader, Papyrus fell to his knees. “P-please...tell me this is just a bad dream…”

Wordlessly, they drifted through time and space once more until they reached the door to the ruins.

Sans stood there, staring back as though he were looking straight through Papyrus’ soul. He addressed the army behind them, “Stay back. She’s mine.”

Papyrus shouted at him to stop, but he summoned one, two, three Gaster Blasters and destroyed the door in a flurry of light. “Heh. So it was you all this time.” His left eye turned blue. “Good to know you make bad jokes about everything. Including people’s lives.”

Toriel stood facing away from him, her posture calm and dignified as ever, hands clasped in front of her. But her voice sounded broken. “What you have done...is inexcuseable. I only wanted for human and monster kind to be united again. Violence only creates more violence…”

“You were a COWARD and ran away from everything! You sold out EVERYONE the moment you said that we should just...move on and forgive and forget!” Sans shook, his bones rattling. “Being a pacifist will only get you and people you love KILLED! But you never cared about that, did you? All that mattered was preserving the memory of some kid who cost you EVERYTHING. You know what it’s like to lose a child...yet you don’t even CARE if it’s someone’s brother? Well it’s the same thing to me!”

Papyrus began to cry again, racking sobs shaking his body. “S-sans...I’m so sorry…”

Toriel turned on him, tears and rage in her own eyes. “Everything I have done was an attempt to save EVERYONE! YOU ALL were cowards! You killed innocent people for petty revenge! And you...where were you all this time as the human you hate so much roamed free? You were too weak to do anything about it, and now you take out your pain and humiliation on those who have only ever wanted to protect you! You’re just like...no, you’re WORSE than ASGORE!”

“SHUT UP!” A circle of Gaster Blasters surrounded him. He threw his hand out. Papyrus ran to him.

“S-Sans, please don’t do this! This isn’t you! Don’t let me turn you into a murderer!”

But no one could hear him cry. No one could see him as he reached out to hold his brother, his ghostly hand passing right through him. Toriel stood proud, not even flinching as the attack raced right at her…

“STOP!!”

They were at the crossroads of light and darkness once more.

Papyrus sat crumpled over, sobbing like a small child. “W-why would you show me that…?”

Gaster stared a moment before kneeling next to him. “I think you know the answer. You’ve known all this time, but you keep lying to yourself. Do you really believe, after all of that…” He gently lifted Papyrus’ chin so that he faced him. “...that you are entirely worthless?”

Papyrus grabbed Gaster and hugged him close. “I-I don’t care about that! If I’m important enourgh to start a war, I don’t care about being famous anymore! I just want everyone to be happy!” He sniffled, burying his head against Gaster’s shoulder. “B-but none of that matters now! It’s too late…”

Surprised by the initial contact, Gaster smiled slightly and returned the embrace, enveloping him in his coat of stars. “Given the right circumstances, it is never too late.”

Several reluctant pauses later, Gaster pulled away after giving Papyrus a gentle nudge towards the light.

“W-wha?” He tried to move towards him, but he could not. His body was floating away, while Gaster began to assimilate back into the darkness. “W-wait! What about you? P-please don’t go, I was just starting to remember you!”

A chuckle resonated around them as the stars on his cloak spread out onto the horizon. “If there is one thing to remember about me…” His form disappeared and became one with the darkness that shrank and dimmed as Papyrus grew closer to the light. “...it’s to never be like me.”

Papyrus reached out his hand helplessly. “N-no, it doesn’t have to be like this! Please...G...Ga…”

“Take care of yourself, Papyrus.”

“DAD!!”

Papyrus’ eyes flew open. Light shone through the hole in his outstretched hand. His chest heaved up and down, tears dripping down his face. Downstairs, the sounds of a dog barking and his brother laughing rang out clear as day.

After getting dressed, he quietly descended the staircase and entered the kitchen. Sans looked up, the usual lackadaisical smile on his face. “Mornin, bro. No grand entrance, eh? Didn’t sleep well....?”

Papyrus hugged his brother tightly. “Thank you, Sans...for everything you do. It’s truly an honor to have a brother like you.”

Sans was startled, but hugged Papyrus closer anyway. “Heh. Thanks. Same to you, couldn’t ask for a more amazing bro.”

Papyrus breathed deeply, allowing himself to smile. His hand ventured to the back of his neck; when he brought it back around, his glove had slipped off a bit. He quickly covered the hole that peeked out.

It was just a dream, right?

#undertale #undertale fanfic #papyrus #gaster #sans #forget me not #my art #fanfic #death mention #toriel #undyne

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writersrealmbts · 5 years

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Con Amore: Part 6

Bulletproof Melody Sequel

Originally Posted: 08/07/2019

Tags: Superheroes, Ot7

Fluff/Angst: 2,823 words

A/N: Let’s get into it.

Your nose wrinkled as you entered the cafeteria. “Oh Lord.” “Back away slowly,” Namjoon instructed. “Maybe they won’t notice us and we can escape to where we can get food that doesn’t smell like…what does that smell like?” “Feet and tomato sauce,” Jin answered. “I can transport out and get us edible food,” Taehyung whispered. “Good plan.” “Nightingale!” An evil voice called out. You glared at the young man in his stupid temple travel robes looking like a cross between a wizard, a monk, and a farmer. Now everyone was looking at you. He ran up and bowed, straightening quickly. “High Priestess Cohen has sent me to represent…um…to represent…did I do something wrong, Arch—” He spluttered and spit out the mouthful of water and plant matter that had filled his mouth. You gestured for them to stop, stepping in close. “I believe one of the most intensive training programs at the temple is that of discretion, is it not?” He blinked in surprise at you, then looked a little sheepish and nodded. “Yes, miss.” “We should speak in private if you are to be the liaison between us and the temple. Does the dean know of your arrival?” “Yes, miss.” “And you’ve eaten?” “Not yet, miss.” “Follow me.” You pivoted and headed back to the elevator, feeling the curious gazes of at least two hundred students on your back. It was a good way out of eating whatever minimally edible food you found in there and frankly the smell was making you feel sick. Again. “So—” “Not in the elevator. You’re new, aren’t you?” “Sorry, yes, ma’am.” “What’s your name?” “Heuning Kai, miss.” “And you are a…” It wasn’t that you actually needed him to explain his powers, but you figured it would make him uncomfortable if he knew that you could sense his powers. Besides, sometimes it was nice to keep a power hidden away for emergency use. You certainly kept yours hidden. “Acolyte of day, messenger of the high priests and priestesses,” He replied quickly, dipping his head and making a gesture of the temple in the center of his chest. He looked at you with a little apprehension. “What does that mean?” Jimin asked, idly leaning against you. “It means he’s a light super training in the ways of the temple, and while he’s training he’s their messenger. Like an apprenticeship. You learn, but you also work to earn your keep. The temple is structured and run for supers who believe their powers give them too much…well, power. They stay at the temple to protect themselves and each other from those who would use their powers for ill. Instead they treat the sick and injured and provide sanctuary for those in need. When they do use their powers, it is after much prayer and meditation. They’re essentially pacifists that will fight if provoked in just the right way.” You explained, stumbling as the elevator made you dizzy. “I’m going to have to start using the stairs.” “Not a good idea,” Seokjin said. “You’d never get anywhere.” “I know,” You muttered poutily. “But the elevator makes me dizzy.” Jungkook wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry.” You sighed and leaned into his embrace until the doors opened. “Right. Let’s use one of these other rooms to set up for battle plans.” Yoongi picked a room and went in. Once inside, you hummed to make sure no one could see or listen in, then turned to Heuning Kai. “It’s safe to speak now.” “The high priestess of light sends word that our patient that was asking for you has begun recovering, and but hasn’t been able to clarify his messages from before. She also wished for me to tell you that you were right about the organization that was rising back to power, and that the temple is preparing for battle should you have need of them. I am to be at your disposal.” “Anything else?” He frowned slightly, almost indignant, but seeming to remember something before. “She said that you need to seal the doors that very moment.” “I take it that was her exact wording, she said “that very moment”?” He nodded. You frowned, trying to figure out what that could mean. There were literal doors, figurative doors, the doors to your archives, the doors to the school, the doors of transportation…there were an almost endless number of doors that could be referencing to and apparently she had decided to be vague. “Nothing else?” “I believe that was everything, miss.” “Alright. Let’s go over the ground rules while we’re at the conservatory. Do not discuss any private information about yourself, us, or the mission with anyone except me and these men. That includes me being an archivist, any relationship things you see with us…did you give them your true name?” He looked up in surprise. “They didn’t ask for it.” “Then don’t. Do you have a code name at the temple?” He nodded, but it was hesitant. “One you don’t particularly like?” “I’m called orangeade.” “Yikes. He wins,” Hoseok muttered. “Okay…well, the dean will probably just call you Acolyte…but is there some other code name that you’d maybe like to use while here?” “Well, I’ve also been called wings…” He shrugged, looking uncertain and a little out of his depth. “Wings?” Jimin asked. He reached behind him and pulled a piece of fabric. Wings spread out behind him, the white feathers connected with metal, gears working smoothly to allow them to work properly. Not quite a power, but explained that weird sense you got from him about a second power. You knew the handiwork. He likely had wings he was born with, and was refitted as a child to have these, then rescued and taken to the temple for safety. You looked at his face, seeing how uncomfortable it made him to even be called wings. “I could call you Hermes, Euros, or Zephyros.” He lit up a bit. “Hermes was the messenger god. Euros was the god of the east wind and autumn, thought to bring rain and warmth. Zephyros was the god of the west wind and spring. If those don’t sound like good names, then I can find others. And it’s only temporary.” You gave him a gentle smile, knowing you could come off as abrupt. “Just to keep you safe. This place is just as dangerous as the enemy we’re facing.” “I like Zephyros,” He said softly, smiling a little. “Okay.” You gave him a gentle smile, then turned to Taehyung. “But seriously, real food.” He grinned. “What do you want?” “Hmm, I think I want a burger,” you said. “Maybe some fries. And fruit. Strawberries. And blueberries.” “Alright, I’ll do my best,” He came over and collected a quick kiss. You gripped his sleeve. “Be careful.” He met your eyes and nodded. “I’ll take Mannaz-ah.” “You will?” Jimin looked a little indignant. “Yup.” Taehyung grabbed a paper. “Now taking orders.” The boys started giving him instructions for food, and you gestured for Heuning Kai to give Taehyung an order as well. He looked nervous to do so, so you pulled him over to where Taehyung was writing down Namjoon’s order. “Do you want a burger?” You asked after a moment. He nodded. Taehyung flashed a smile. “Come over here, I have a menu pulled up for the place I’m going to.” You gave the young boy an encouraging smile, then headed over to Jimin. “Keep your head on the swivel. I don’t care how ridiculous you might look, keep an eye on everything.” He nodded and nuzzled your cheek. “We’ll probably have to spread out tonight. You were too warm this morning. We’ll have to go back to our old routine of one or two of us sleeping with you at a time. Laguz-hyung’s neck is hurting him and Sowilo-hyung’s leg is hurting him.” “And how’s your back and neck?” You asked, gently rubbing the muscle connecting his neck and shoulder. “Mmm, Jera-hyung gave me a massage earlier this morning.” He melted into your touch anyway. “Good. You’re right. Probably only manage one of you in a bed with me, though. I’ll let you have the first night.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed a few kisses to his lips. “I’ll need your special brand of cuddles tonight.” He smiled. “Cuddles, yeah. That’s what we’ll be doing.” You rolled your eyes. “We’ll do whatever we both have energy for.” “Mmhmm, or I could just please you,” He murmured, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to your lips. You shook your head and lightly punched his shoulder. “Raidho is ready to leave.” “Try not to worry about us,” He whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ve got the check-in app going with Tiwaz-hyung.” You kissed him again, then stepped away from him so that Tae could step in and transport them out. Namjoon led Heuning Kai out of the room, talking about getting him settled in the same wing as us. You looked back at Jungkook. “Come with me to the archives?” He smiled and nodded. “Don’t let her work too hard,” Hoseok said, quickly kissing you as he pulled a sleepy-looking Yoongi toward the door. “Hey, if I give you guys a list can you lay out a plan to rescue some kids from some of the homes, make sure the organizations can’t get to them?” You pulled out a paper. “Yeah, we’ll make a plan then when everyone is back we’ll execute it,” He plopped a kiss on your hair. “We’ll also set this room up as a meeting room. I just have to tuck this one in for a nap.” You giggled and stepped in to kiss Yoongi. “Sleep well, dearest.” He visibly blushed, and looked away. You grinned and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder and kissing his neck. “Try to dream of me?” “Yeah, whatever,” He murmured, a little bit of his cute, flustered lisp coming out. You kissed his neck again, seeing his ears turning red. You squeezed him again, then released, letting your hands trail across his body. He caught your hand, giving it a light squeeze before letting you retreat to Jungkook. He was still looking away from you, but you knew he was watching your every move. “Come on,” Hoseok chuckled, tugging Yoongi out of the room. You hummed and pulled Jungkook through the door and into one of the archives. You had almost finished organizing the artifacts in your own way so that you could find whatever you need, but there was still one room full of artifacts that you still needed to find a home for. You relaxed once you’d sealed the entrance again. Jungkook was watching you with worry in his eyes. “You alright?” “Tired. Worried. A little nauseous. I wish I could just curl up with all of you and sleep. Not worry about another opponent.” You nuzzled into his chest as he wrapped around you lovingly and protectively. He just held you tightly. “I wish that too. I wish we could all just bask in the happiness of a baby. We’ve wanted one for so long. Been trying since Christmas. For it to come now…” “Yeah,” You whispered. “All things in due season, though…right?” “If you mean that things happen when they’re supposed to, then I guess so. Like fate.” You nodded. “Fate.” You ran a hand over your stomach, chewing on your lip. “I just…the thought of being a mom hasn’t really hit me yet, I guess. I’m used to being free and doing almost exactly as I please when I please. Do you think I’ll be a good mom? And what’s it going to be like with the baby having essentially seven fathers?” “We’ll figure everything out together. You’ll be a great mom. You’re already so good at taking care of us,” He reassured softly, smiling at you lovingly. “And when you get all big and your ankles and back hurt, I’ll carry you wherever you like.” You groaned. “Oh, I’m gonna get fat. I was just feeling like I was in excellent shape too.” “You look beautiful no matter what.” He kissed you chastely. “Now, what’s the task?” “Keeping me from doing too much while I find some artifacts that can help us that aren’t dangerous if taken by others. Then I want to seal the archives so that only I can get into them. I don’t know quite what to make of Nurya’s warning, but I do know that if I can, I should make sure these never fall into the wrong hands.” “So you’re preparing early for the occasion of your death.” He sounded upset. You shook your head. “No. I meant it when I said I’d stay away from the fighting and the danger. I just want to make sure no one gets in uninvited. Which is why I’m also making sure that if I do open it, it’s also because I’m carrying this,” You explained as you picked up an amulet with a tiger and rooster depicted on it. “This was collected by my five-times-great-grandfather, from Jeju Island. The amulet of Munjeon, a god of doors.” You held it out to Jungkook. He took it, looking it over, running a finger over the inlaid rubies and sapphires. “It looks like that peace symbol, the black and white one.” “Yin and Yang, which represents balance, not peace. Yes, it is.” You grabbed a special case from the side and started carefully picking out artifacts that could be useful but wouldn’t break the world. “Keep it safe for me. If you don’t feel like I’m me, don’t give it to me.” He watched you for a while, then slowly closed his fist over the amulet. “Okay.” He caught your waist. “But what if I’m the one that’s taken.” “It’s also a protection charm.” You kissed his cheek. “And I’ll make sure there are fail-safes. I just need to sit down with some sheet music and headphones while you guys make plans for fighting and investigation.” He nodded. “They’re probably back with food, now.” You grabbed a few more artifacts from other archives, then pulled him back into the room. Taehyung and Jimin were putting chairs at the tables, which had been rearranged into a huge meeting table that could seat all of you plus some extras. You smiled as the smell of burgers wafted to you. “That smells fantastic. Thank you, boys.” They jumped and Jimin went down behind a table in surprise. Tae recovered first. “What’s the suitcase for?” “Tools,” You explained, kissing his cheek, then going to make sure Jimin hadn’t hurt himself. “Any trouble?” “Nope, we were perfectly safe.” Jimin hugged onto you. “We have a problem,” Hoseok said, coming back in with the others, including Huening Kai and the dean. “What problem?” Taehyung asked. The dean put a device down and Yoongi projected the screen onto the wall for everyone to see. “The old church which was used by a private organization has been burning for six hours, there are no reports of anyone being in the church when the fire began, and firefighters are still working hard to put out the flames, which have extended to throughout the entire building.” The news reporter kept talking about when the fire started and all that, but your gaze was on the symbol on the burning door. “Beit mikdash lekavot,” The dean read from the simple sign. “Hope Temple.” Heuning Kai looked devastated. “That’s where the entrance to the temple of light was,” You confirmed. “Boys, we need to rescue the kids from those homes I listed. Now.” “Right. We’ll eat as we go,” Jin quickly grabbed his burger from the bag. “I’ll have some transportation students ready to assist you all.” “Huening Kai, why don’t you help me today?” You said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. He slowly nodded and let you guide him to a seat. You gently rubbed his back. “I’m sure they’re okay.” He nodded again, but his gaze was fixed on the video that Yoongi was still projecting, obviously waiting for more details. “Wilo, you should stick with Jin,” You suggested gently. Yoongi glanced at you, then Heuning Kai, before nodding and ending the projection. The dean turned to you. “I would like to speak to you later. When it’s convenient.” You weren’t sure what that would be about, but you figured it probably wasn’t good. You nodded anyway and sat down with the laptop to monitor the separate missions of your boys, giving Heuning Kai the second and telling him what to do based on the plan Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok had come up with. You just hoped it wouldn’t be too late for the children.

~~~~~

Part 5. Part 7.

Masterlist. ~ Series Masterpost.

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