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somesuperherowrites · 3 years

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To the Rescue

request: Will you do a Luke Alvez x Reader Drabble where you’re taken by an Unsub and he just barely rescues you and it’s all fluff and all love and all goodness!

a/n: part 2 will contain the fluff !

....

Luke paced around the bullpen anxiously. You weren’t answering any of his texts or calls. Normally, this wouldn’t worry him. He knew you usually took a while to respond, but right now the team had just gotten a case in D.C. and the unsub’s type fit you exactly. When he had seen the pictures of the unsub’s victims, it felt like he had been drenched in ice water. They could have been your mirror image.

He nervously dialed your number again and put the phone up to his ear, “c’mon, c’mon Y/N. Please pick up.”

“Hey, this is Y/N! Leave a message and I’ll call you back.” Your bubbly voice resounded in his ear. Luke quietly cursed to himself. He was going to have to ask Garcia to ping your phone.

Luke practically ran to where Garcia was sitting with Emily in the conference room. “Hey, uh, Garcia. I need you to ping Y/N’s phone for me please.”

Penelope quirked her eyebrow questioningly, but began typing on her tablet.

Emily looked at him concerned, “Luke, what’s wrong?”

“Y/N fits the unsub’s type and I can’t get her on the phone. Oh god... what if he has her Emily.” He was very quickly breaking down and he knew that, but the thought of a serial killer kidnapping you was enough to make him panic.

Emily nodded, “Garcia, did you find anything?”

Garcia stared at her tablet, “Yeah, her phone last pinged right outside your apartment complex. But that was three hours ago.”

“Penelope! Where is she now?” Luke took a shuddering breath. He had to remain rational. Maybe you had turned your phone off for some reason once you were in the apartment.

Please. Please. Please. Be in the apartment Y/N.

“Here is the video footage from the camera near where her phone was last pinged.” Garcia pressed play and the three of them watched as you walked down the sidewalk.

Luke’s breath hitched in his throat as he saw a man approach you and start talking. No alarms bells appeared to be going off in your head. You seemed calm. You pointed down the street and the man nodded his head. As soon as you turned your back, the man forced a cloth over your mouth.

“Oh my god.” Penelope breathed out. They were watching your abduction.

Luke watched as you resisted at first then quickly surrendered to the drugs. Your limp body was then thrown into a nearby van. The whole interaction had take 2 minutes.

“Damn it!” Luke tightened his hand into a first and punched the table. He tightly closed his eyes with his fist resting on the table. Truth be told, it was the only thing keeping him from falling over right now. God, this couldn’t be happening.

“Penelope, track that van and run facial rec. I’m going to get the team.” Emily commanded as she stood up.

She walked over and placed a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “We’re going to get her back Luke.”

Luke bit his lip. He wasn’t one to cry in front of others, but right now, he was fighting like hell to not break down sobbing in the conference room. He pushed himself up off the table. There was only one thought running through his mind now - he had to get you back.

....

You groggily shook your head. Where were you?

You winced as the memories came flooding back to you. Shit. Someone had kidnapped you. Panic began to overtake you and you struggled against the restraints that we hanging you from the ceiling.

How could you have been so stupid. You had pepper spray and you hadn’t even used it. Luke would be so disappointed that you hadn’t fought back hard enough. Luke.

You took a deep breath to keep from crying. Luke was going to find you. You had to believe that.

Footsteps sounded from the hallway near where you were being held. Your eyes widened. Oh god, he was probably a serial killer. You couldn’t survive this. Luke was the tough one in your relationship. He was strong and good and could handle all the bad that the world had to offer. You couldn’t.

He was going to save you. Luke was coming for you.

You pulled against your restraints as hard as you could as a man appeared in front of you with a knife. You cried as you felt him press the cool metal of the blade against your throat.

His breath fanned your face and he smiled, “I’m gonna have fun with you.”

....

Luke paced the floor and exhaustedly ran his hands through his hair. “What are we missing? We have to be missing something,” he demanded looking around to the team members who were tirelessly working in the bullpen.

“Luke,” Emily started gently, “it’s been 3 days. You haven’t left and you’ve barely slept. You need a break.”

Luke scoffed, “do you think she’s gotten a break from the unrelenting hell this unsub is no doubt putting her through?” Heavy silence met his rhetorical question.

“Yeah, me neither. Emily we’re running out of time. He keeps them for 4 days at most. He tortures them, brands them, then dumps their body; and I.. I can’t -“ his voice broke.

Emily stepped towards him and looked him in the eye, “Luke, we can’t think like that. Okay? We’re missing something. You’ve studied this case more than anyone. What are we missing?”

Luke stared at the board in response. What was he missing?

“Hey Spencer!” he began putting together the dots of thoughts in his mind.

Spencer looked up from where he was sitting at his desk, “yeah?”

“Do you have that geological profile?” Spencer nodded and held the map up, which Luke snatched out of his hand.

Luke slammed the paper on the table, “there it is! the letters are of the streets the bodies were found are spelling out my name. Atlantic Street, Lawrence Avenue, Victor Street, East Capital. There’s no Z because that’s where he has her.”

Prentiss’ eyes widened. “Spencer, what street names in D.C. start with a Z?”

Spencer racked his brain, “There’s only one. It’s called Zei Alley. It’s two minutes away from the White House. Do we think he’s that bold?”

“No, I think he’s that stupid.” Luke grabbed the keys from his desk and paused when no one was moving. “Let’s go! He kills them at that location on the 4th day. She doesn’t have that much time.”

Prentiss nodded, “you heard the man. let’s go save Y/N.”

....

Your body was on fire. Anytime you moved, you felt the sharp sting of the cuts that littered your body. Luckily, he hadn’t cut too deeply. Unluckily, everything he did seemed to be because he wanted to cause you maximum pain.

You tried to lift yourself up on the top of your tip toes to give your arms some much needed relief. Being shackled from the ceiling was torture in itself.

You felt tears fall freely from your face as you heard footsteps coming toward you. You closed your eyes in dread. You knew what was coming, and you couldn’t take anymore.

“Please, please stop,” you sobbed.

“Shhh. It’ll all be over soon.” He grunted as he lifted your body against his so that he could undo your chains. He let your arms fall unceremoniously to your sides.

You screamed at the blinding pain that was taking over you. If you thought your arms had hurt before, boy were you wrong.

Your captor sneered at you, “Oh, shut up.”

He placed some a damp cloth against your mouth, and you welcomed the sweet darkness that it brought with it.

...

It wasn’t long before the team arrived at the location that the ubsub was going to bring you to. There was no sign of you yet, but everyone was waiting undercover and ready to jump in the second they saw you.

After 2 hours of waiting, a white van pulled up by Zei alley.

Luke immediately brought the team’s attention to this new development. “Guys, I’ve got a white van by the alley.”

Emily looked over the newspaper that she was holding as she sat on a bench. “I’ve got eyes on the van.”

They watched as the driver got out and approached the passenger side. He pulled the passenger out and help them up.

“Passenger looks unconscious. This is definitely our guy. Move in.” Prentiss commanded.

As the unsub shuffled you into the alley, he was surrounded. He held your body close to his and used you as a shield for protection.

Luke’s breath caught in his throat. You weren’t even awake. You couldn’t fight back. He wanted to scream in anger - how was this fair?

Luke licked his lips as he was thinking and his eyes darted between you and the unsub. “Okay, I’m going to put my gun away, and they’re going to back up, okay?” Luke slowly placed his weapon in its holster.

The unsub tightened his grip around you and shoved the knife deeper into your throat, so droplets of blood were now appearing on your skin.

“Hey, hey, look. You want me, right? That’s why you were spelling out Alvez, huh? Now take me instead of her okay?” At this point Luke was practically begging, but he didn’t care.

“You don’t want it to go down like this, okay man? You don’t wanna do this,” Luke pleaded.

The unsub was seemingly persuaded and loosened his grip on you for a second. A look of hatred flashed in his eyes. “You’re wrong,” he snarled and plunged the knife into your side.

....

You were trying so hard to open your eyes. Something was going on, but you couldn’t open your eyes. You thought you heard Luke’s voice faintly come in and out of focus. “down....don’t wanna..”

Was Luke coming to save you?

You suddenly felt a searing pain in your side and immediately screamed Luke’s name.

Gunshots sounded and you fell to the ground with the unsub. Everything was hazy and pain was consuming all your senses, but you knew without a shadow of a doubt when someone picked you up that it was Luke.

Your eyes kept fluttering open. Trying to stay conscious to see Luke was hard.

“Hey, hey, hey. I need you to stay awake for me Y/N. Can you do that?” Luke pleaded with you. His voice was like crystal water washing over you. So refreshing. Just what you wanted and exactly what you needed.

Even though you were pretty sure you were bleeding out, his voice was enough to make you quirk the side of your mouth into a slight smile. You knew you couldn’t talk, but you kept your eyes open long enough to meet Luke’s concerned gaze for a second before finally falling unconscious.

“No. No. Don’t do this Y/N.” He grabbed your face in his hands. “Come on. Please...” Tears were freely falling from his eyes and he desperately held pressure to your wound while begging you, pleading with you to stay with him.

In a second, medics ripped you from his arms and began applying pressure to your stab wound. They rushed to place you on the gurney and into the ambulance. Luke blindly followed them, unwilling to be apart from you for even a second.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #luke alvez x reader #criminal minds fanfic

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ghostking-wenning · 4 years

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Radishes, Chapter 6.2

This one’s a 2-part! Enjoy!

2.5K, Rated G, modern au, NingXian etc

***

Qionglin sat bolt upright in his bed. A thin sheen of cold sweat coated his body, the sheets tangled around his legs. His chest heaved and his cheeks flushed. A dream. It was just a dream! Oh, but what a dream it had been. Wuxian on his knees before him, looking up at him as he… oh god. Qionglin clapped his hand over his eyes, as if that would block out the memory of that vision.

Tentatively, he stood on shaky legs. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he hadn’t made a mess of his sheets, aside from wrinkling them beyond recognition. Sure, he’d had raunchy dreams before, but never like this! Never so long, with such detail, with a specific person that he actually knew! They weren’t even boyfriends yet! They had only recently shared their first kiss! Why would his brain conjure up such naughty imagery? Such naughty sensations?

He shivered remembering the feeling of Wuxian’s hands… and mouth… all over him. It had felt so real, even though he’d never done any of … that. His dream had even replicated the scent of his cologne, the flavor of his favorite wine. Heat coiled in his belly as he remembered the way he squished him against the wall, leaning his whole body into him. Then all that heat immediately rushed to his face when he remembered the way he had simply submitted to Wuxian’s ministrations, baring his throat like a dog to a wolf.

Really? He asked himself. Is that what I’m into? A wave of dread and shame washed over him when he heard an echo of the words “good boy” whispered in his ear and remembered how much he loved it.

“Oh god,” he groaned aloud. “I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again…” What a shame that was, too, they were such beautiful eyes. Especially when they were fixed on Qionglin with that searing heat as he--

“Nope!” Qionglin said, forcibly derailing that train of thought. A cold shower. That’s what I need. He peeled off his sweat-soaked nightclothes and headed to the bathroom. In the mirror, he was almost surprised to find his neck and chest exactly as they always were, not mottled in lurid red marks. He couldn’t bring himself to look any further down, so he hopped into the shower and turned it on full-blast, hoping the water would pressure-wash his filthy mind. He didn’t even flinch at the cold.

He lost track of time, but he eventually calmed down. He dried off and redressed himself in clean pajamas. It was still several hours before he needed to be awake. He laid down on the couch, so he wouldn’t have to change his sheets for the moment.

Mercifully, the rest of his sleep was dreamless and deep. He woke to the sound of his phone chiming. He had a message from his sister.

“Happy birthday, little brother!! I love you! We still on for dinner tonight?”

Oh god it’s my birthday! In an instant, all traces of sleepiness vanished. Somehow he’d entirely forgotten his own birthday. Am I seriously that clueless? He shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself.

“Thank you, jiejie! Yes, of course, I’ll meet you at 7!” He replied, tacking on a few heart emojis.

Granny didn’t allow anyone to work on their birthdays, so he had nothing to do until dinnertime. He slumped on the sofa and stared at the ceiling until his phone pinged again.

“Bring that little punk boyfriend of yours. I have to make sure he’s good enough for you.”

He knew Qing well enough to read between the lines: “This is not a request.”

He didn’t even bother pointing out that they weren’t technically boyfriends yet.

Usually he would be elated to spend time with Wuxian on his birthday, but a) Qing could be … intense… he wasn’t sure if he was ready to introduce them yet, and b) he was convinced Wuxian would somehow read his mind and discover what a weird pervert he was. Maybe he’s busy! Maybe he won’t even come. He tried to reason with himself, but that actually just made him sadder.

It took a couple of hours to build up the courage to text Wuxian. He was a lot of things, sure, but he wasn’t a psychic. (Right? That would be crazy… right?) If Qionglin could just keep his cool, he’d never have to know about his dreams. He took a deep breath and opened the message app.

“Hey, Wuxian! Are you busy tonight?” He cursed the way his fingers shook as he typed.

Not five minutes later, his phone beeped.

“Nope! What’s up?”

Fuck.

“I’m having a birthday dinner with my big sister, and I was wondering if you’d like to join us!” He decided not to mention that Qing wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Wait, is it her birthday or your birthday??”

“Mine.”

“What?!”

“Why didn’t you tell me!!”

“Happy birthday!!!!!!!!”

“I forgot! I’m sorry!” It was fully true, but that didn’t make it less ridiculous to admit.

“FORGOT? Wild. Anyway I gotta go find you a present! Can’t wait to see you later!” A string of kiss emojis followed, and Qionglin giggled in spite of himself.

He gathered himself quickly and responded. “You don’t have to get me anything!!”

“Too late! I’m already out the door! See you later byeeee!”

A minute later, Wuxian texted again. “Wait, where and when am I seeing you?”

Qionglin snickered softly, an endeared smile growing on his face. He sent Wuxian the map link and enjoyed about four minutes of peace before remembering why he’d been so nervous about texting Wuxian in the first place.

Panic hit him like a train. Several trains, maybe. His heart skipped and his fingers tightened around his phone so hard his hand shook. Calm down, he tried to tell himself over the alarm bells clanging in his head. Calm down!! Through sheer force of willpower, he evened out his breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth, he repeated like a mantra.

He walked briskly to his bedroom, pointedly ignoring the rumpled sheets on his bed and snatched his anxiety medication. He popped one in his mouth and hastily gulped some water, and sank into his desk chair. Leaning back, he shut his eyes and waited for his heartbeat to calm.

Something to focus on, that’s what he needed. Something hands-on. But if Granny caught him working the fields, she’d chase him away with a rake -- it had happened before. So he decided on target practice. He grabbed his bow from its stand in the living room and marched out to the woods.

In a small, round clearing were a line of painted wooden targets he’d made himself. He liked to warm up starting from 30 meters, then progressively back away. He took a deep breath as he lined up his shot, shoulders flexing as he drew the bowstring back. The middle target, dead center. He exhaled slowly as he released the arrow, which made a satisfying thunk as it sank exactly into the center of the target.

After landing perfect bullseyes into each target, he backed away to 40 meters, then 50 and so on. He felt perfectly centered; there was nothing in this forest but him, his bow, and his breath.

He leapt about a foot in the air when his phone chimed in his back pocket. How was it already 5 PM!? Where did the time go? He thought, as he began to gather his arrows. It was well past time to get ready. He hurried back to his house, where a fat orange barn cat woke from its nap on Qionglin’s rain boots. It made a curious prrt noise as it fixed big yellow eyes on him. This was the one his little cousin had dubbed “Cheese.”

“Hello, Cheese,” he greeted, stooping to scratch behind its ears. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come inside.” Cheese purred and pawed at the door, but didn’t put much effort into following him inside.

Hanging up his bow, he realized he felt much better, as if his thoughts sorted themselves out on their own. It was just a dream. It’s perfectly natural, and he’ll never even know! And if he found out somehow, I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t blame me at all. It was magical, almost, how archery relaxed him, even as it wore out his muscles. (His medication probably also helped, but he liked to think it was mostly archery.)

He washed his face, and pulled back his hair, fussing with the locks that were too short for his half-ponytail. Poking through his closet once again, he wondered if Wuxian would say anything if he wore the ghost shirt again. He decided against it, instead opting for a grey striped shirt and a dark blue cardigan that he thought looked pretty sharp. He may not have a lot of nice clothes, but he thought maybe he was getting better at dressing well. Well-ish, at least, he thought, tugging on his comfy-but-ugly sneakers, but it was those or work boots.

He checked his pockets and whisked out the door to his car. He would probably still be on time.

He was not.

Fifteen minutes late, he scurried into the restaurant and scanned the room for his sister. At least for his birthday she might not scold him for being late. Soon enough he found her, looking polished and perfect as ever, in a tasteful dark red dress with her long black-tea-colored hair in a sleek braid. Across from her was none other than Wuxian, Qionglin realized with a start. What-- how did she find him? Why-- oh god what are they talking about?

He stood stock-still for a few seconds, until Wuxian laughed brightly, the sound spurring Qionglin forward. As casually as possible, he strolled over and plunked down beside them. With any luck he’d missed the awkward small talk and Qing inevitably giving Wuxian the third-degree about what he does, and his intentions with her little brother.

“S-sorry I’m late,” he said, offering a sheepish smile.

Qing looked like she wanted to say something about it, but Wuxian beat her to it.

“No worries! Happy birthday!” He said, grinning and reaching for Qionglin’s hand.

“Mhm,” Qing agreed. “Happy birthday, hun.” She patted his cheek fondly, and he blushed, unable to hide his cheesy grin at the attention.

“Thanks…” he mumbled. “Um, so, I guess you’ve already met, so I don’t need to introduce you. I-- I hope you weren’t waiting too long, though.”

“Not at all! Your sister was just telling me about how cute you were when you were little,” Wuxian said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Qionglin’s head whipped around. “Qing!” He complained, exaggerated betrayal written on his face.

She smiled deviously. “What? You were adorable! You used to hide behind me and follow me everywhere like a little duckling.”

Qionglin groaned and buried his face in his hands while Wuxian giggled.

“He’s still adorable,” Wuxian said. “Absolutely too cute.”

“Yep.” Qing nodded.

Well, at least they’re getting along… Qionglin thought. The rest of the evening went in a similar fashion, the two of them teasing him affectionately and relishing in his embarrassment. After dinner, they sat around chatting over glasses of wine. Qing reached into her purse and produced a small envelope.

Qionglin carefully opened it and read the card. Tucked into the corner was a gift card to a ritzy clothing shop.

“I’ll take you shopping next weekend, if you’re free.” Qing promised.

“Mm! Thanks jiejie,” Qionglin said leaning over to give her a one-armed hug.

“Ooh, my turn!” Wuxian chimed in. From inside his jacket, he pulled a little bundle wrapped in red tissue paper. He handed it over, grinning proudly.

Qionglin untied the silver ribbon holding it together, and the paper unraveled. Inside was a packet of heart-shaped candies and a set of charming pins shaped like monsters: a werewolf, a sea serpent, an alien, and a ghost, much like the one on his t-shirt. Qionglin’s heart threatened to burst in his chest. Faintly blushing, he gazed up at Wuxian, who was watching him intently, eyebrows raised.

“Thank you…” he said, somewhat breathlessly. “I love these.”

Wuxian’s face split into his signature dazzling grin. “I’m so glad! I noticed you don’t accessorize much, and I thought maybe it was because jewelry would get in the way of farm work or whatever, so I figured pins might suit you-- I even made sure to get the kind with extra-sturdy backs so they won’t fall off!”

Qionglin chuckled shyly. “That’s… really thoughtful. Thank you,” he repeated.

Qing scoffed lightly. “Way to show me up,” she said looking pointedly at Wuxian, but she was smiling. She gave a small, approving nod. Apparently Wuxian met her expectations well enough. She stood gracefully and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Well, I should get going, but you two have fun, okay? Dinner’s on me.” She bent slightly and gave Qionglin a firm hug and kissed the top of his head.

Then she walked around him and extended her hand to Wuxian, who shook it graciously. She leaned in and whispered something to him that Qionglin couldn’t hear.

Wuxian’s eyebrows shot into his hairline and he blanched. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured weakly.

Qing flashed Qionglin an indulgent smile and bid them both goodnight, before sweeping away, paying the bill and leaving, her heels clacking decisively.

Qionglin cleared his throat awkwardly. “S-so that’s my sister,” he said tentatively. “I hope she didn’t say anything rude.”

Wuxian laughed, light and breezy, like he hadn’t just looked scared out of his wits. “Nothing unusual, anyway. Just the shovel talk-- and a quick one at that. Very efficient. She’s cool, though!”

“Isn’t she?” Qionglin agreed wholeheartedly. “I-I’m glad you got along okay. She seems to approve. Of you, I mean. Of-- of us.” He felt his cheeks color slightly, savoring the word us.

Wuxian smiled again, and squeezed Qionglin’s hand. “Good. Because I plan on sticking around.”

When they finished their wine, they took a walk through a park to sober up. The moon was just beginning to rise over them as they strolled leisurely, hand-in-hand.

“So, how old are you now? 23?” Wuxian asked, somewhat out of the blue, stopping and stepping off the paved trail.

“Mhm, exactly.” Qionglin said, following him into the trees. “Why?”

“For this,” Wuxian answered. He tugged Qionglin closer and cupped both sides of his face, then began peppering him with kisses, everywhere he could reach. Qionglin spluttered and tried to pull away, but Wuxian was unstoppable. He seemed determined to cover Qionglin’s entire face in a layer of kisses. “20,” he murmured, kissing his left eyebrow. “21,” he kissed the center of his forehead. “22,” he kissed the tip of his nose. “23,” he whispered, and at last kissed Qionglin’s lips, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him tight.

When they finally parted, Qionglin was breathless and practically vibrating. He hid his face in Wuxian’s collar and snuggled close. Wuxian chuckled lightly and nuzzled his hair. “Happy birthday, Qionglin.”

#mdzs fic #modern au #farmer's market au #ningxian #wei wuxian #wen ning #wen qing #birthday fic!#my writing #my art

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lillegalloli94 · 4 years

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Moonlit Café

Back when I was in my last semester of college, I took a creative writing course and wrote a short ten-minute play called “Moth to the Flame” about a moth that fell in love with a spider and went to spend her last night with her. Since that play ended tragically, I’ve since imagined those characters in different scenarios and, of course, one of those scenarios is a coffee shop au.

Click… Click… Click… Click…

The mindless noise pinging by her ear was all Allura could do to keep herself awake in this late, dead hour.

Click… Click… Click…

The Moonlit Café prided itself in serving the nocturnal crowd into the darkest hours of night. Be it 3pm or 3am, they had a coffee fix for all types, from the earliest bird to the latest night owls. Of course, that did mean someone had to man the front line, and that someone, five days a week, was none other than Allura herself.

Click… Click…

She didn’t mind it too terribly. She was a moth herself so such a schedule was natural for someone like her. She didn’t have an issue with the hours itself but in the lack of action she typically saw on an average day. There were the regular patrons that liked to take advantage of the cool, quiet atmosphere; they’re the ones that kept the graveyard shift alive and kicking. But between those revitalizing few, was nothing but the smell of coffee, the lingering sweet air from the pastries and mindless, almost automatic, clicking.

Ding!

The front door’s bell chimed, a sudden shift but not alarming enough to encourage professionalism in Allura’s stature. The most her body would manage was get herself ready to ring up the customer at the till.

“Welcome to the Moonlit Café. Will you be dining in house this evening or to-go?”

“To-go,” a deep, husky voice spoke back to her, drawing her eyes up from the screen to find her patron staring down at her with dark, expectant eyes.

Now, Allura has dealt with spiders before and was self-assured that they never gave her pause for alarm. Sure, there were still people that would insist that they’d gulp her down in a second if given the chance, but she never took such warnings to heart. She’s seen small and cute little jumpers. She’s talked with gentle giants much too aware of their overwhelming size to want to hurt anyone. But this…this was possibly the first time she ever felt her chest seize up, her heart stilling and her breath catching in her lungs, under a spider’s striking gaze.

“Hello?” she waved a hand towards Allura, “Still there?”

Her normal body functions rebooted and her brain remember that she still had a job to do. “Y-Yes, sorry about that.” she straightened up her posture, her eyes looking much more awake and her antennae perked from their droopy dog positioning. A quick clearing of her throat and a kind smile and she was ready to serve. “What can I get for you?”

She followed her hand, long, slender fingers wrapping around her chin as she pondered the menu, “Hm… let’s go with a small mochaccino. Extra milk and whip cream.” she said, pointing towards the item’s picture display.

Allura tapped away on the till, ignoring the stabbing sensation ramming through her body while using up every fiber of her willpower to keep her hand from shaking. “Will that be regular or decaf coffee for your mocha?” she asked.

“Oh, decaf then.” she answered, the soft upturn in her tone sending a soft fluttering sensation through Allura’s stomach.

“Alright…” she successfully managed to restrain herself from squeaking out, “Will that be all for you?”

“Yep, think that’ll do it for me.”

“Gotcha. And…” she reached for a cup and braced her pen against the side, “could a get a name for you?”

Her spider guest stared at her for a moment. She supposed it was a strange request with it just being the two of them, but Allura considered it the perfect excuse to learn this new customer’s name. She was just doing her job, after all.

“Just Eva is fine. You don’t want to try writing my full name on that tiny thing.” she told her with a soft chuckle, waving off the idea of even trying to attempt the impossible.

“Just Eva, then.” Allura muttered, taking a second to make her penmanship as pretty as she could against the curved surface. She even went as far to as add a curling heart at the end of her name. “I’ll have it ready for you in a sec.”

Allura turned from the front counter and walked closer to the machine. She set the cup down with a soft tap and lifted her arms to let a second set of limbs sprout free from her sides. A couple extra hands always got the job done faster but she more liked the flare four arms could accomplish as opposed to two. It kept her mind entertained and sane to perform a little show, to add a bit of pizzazz to her coffee making process.

Extra milk, she reminded herself as she poured more into the cup. Extra whip, she shook the can and squeezed on a hearty amount while keeping the spiral neatly coiled. Some cocoa powder to dust it like chocolate snow and some chocolate shavings sprinkled on because why not.

The whole time, she could feel her heart thudding in her chest, her eyes desperately wanting to turn back and gauge her audience’s reception but held tightly to the strain. But she was watching, wasn’t she? This electrifying tingle she felt coursing through veins and tickling the ends of her nerves, she was definitely watching, waiting…staring.

“One decaf mochaccino, extra milk and whip cream.” Allura swallowed down the hum of her racing blood, topping the drink with a domed lid before passing it over.

“Looks good. So, what do I owe you?” she asked her, voice smoother that butter and richer than fresh cream. Her gaze lowered towards her wallet, a perfect display of her lovely lashes that added an extra sultry shade to her already dangerously seductive irises.

Immediately, a thousand answered raced across her brain, most of which pretraining to abandoning her post and taking the rest of the evening off with this late-night patron. But she couldn’t, not over coffee anyway.

Allura eased down those impulsive thoughts and gave her brightest smile that could rival the full moon waiting outside. “Actually, it’s on the house.” Okay, maybe one impulsive thought might have slipped past her.

Her guest gave a concerned raise of her brow, the corners of her lips turning upward in a nervous smile. “You sure about that?” she asked.

She couldn’t just take it back now, that would be even more off-putting. Double-down, she commanded, barking the order to the rest of her body, Double-fucking-down. “Certainly. It’s only a couple of bucks, anyway. Think of it as a free sample.”

She laughed softly, “And you’re positive you can be giving out free samples this good?” she asked, a bit of a smirk on her lips as she eyed the barista.

“You want to pay that badly?” Allura tilted her head, putting on an innocently curious façade.

She laughed a little louder this time, “I’d feel a bit better knowing my drink won’t be putting you in some future trouble.”

“Oh, if that’s what you’re worried about, it’ll be fine. The owner is one of my best friends. The worst she’ll do is take it out of my pay and I can live with that.” she said, unable to keep the bubbling giggle from escaping her lips. “However… if you really want to offer compensation, then perhaps… could you tell me what your full name is?”

She could see the intrigue starting to come over her eyes again, flickers of bewilderment and a hint of suspicion rising in her gaze.

Allura waved a hand, “No need to worry, I don’t plan on doing anything wicked with it. You’ve just got me curious about how long your full name would have been.”

The spider considered it, studying Allura’s eyes and possibly deciding how much she could trust her. She must have figured she could trust her word decently enough judging by the returning smile on her lips. She reached for her drink, wrapping her fingers around the warm cup and lifting it off the counter. “It’s Evangeline.” she said, tipping her cup slightly towards her server before turning, “Thanks for the drink.”

“Have a nice night.”

The door’s bell chimed again, a soft thud from the closing door leaving a gentle ringing in the air before everything died down into silence once more. It was then, when everything was still and her spider visitor’s figure disappeared into the dimly lit, midnight air, did Allura find it the perfect time to officially freak-the-fuck out.

Each of her four hands grabbed at her thick, rosy locks, pulling the hair over her face and squealing into its voluminous mass. What was that, her heart raced in her chest. What even was that?? The organ pumped harder and faster, feeling like it was about ready to explode in her ribcage. Is this death? Is this what death feels like? But it felt so warm and freeing and, honestly, kind of good too. No, actually, really good. The scared tingle of adrenaline tickling at the back of her head was amazing, like her body was truly living for the first time.

Her upper hands lowered her hair from her eyes, her glistening, pleading gaze searching the glass door and begging for her spider to come back sooner. To give her another dosage of her piercing eyes. Another taste of her dark chocolate voice. Another feel of her incredibly intimidating, towering stature. Allura already felt herself addicted to the spider’s surplus of flavor. And the icing on top, the juicy cherry sitting right on the peak, was that enchanting song of a name.

Evangeline.

Had she ever known a name as enticing as Evangeline? Had she ever known one as charming, as stunningly gorgeous, as Evangeline? Surely not. She would have remembered. She would have been prepared for the striking beauty of the letters that made up Evangeline. This was new. A deep fascination. A worthwhile obsession. All for the spider known only as Evangeline.

(Disclaimer: I don’t drink coffee but I love the idea of cafes)

#Moths to the Flame #Coffee shop au #original writing #original characters #just a little thing for fun #this has been nagging at me for a couple days now

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mythharvester · 3 years

Text

Over the next three weeks I intend to journal my dreams and use the info and my interpretations as the basis for a short story entitled Walking In My Shoes. Each day I will probably be a chapter and I will eventually post each chapter.

Chapter One DAY ONE - What A Year.

He woke to the ping of his mobile phone going off. Resisting the urge to immediately check the phone Cassidy tried to centre himself. He must have nodded off reading, his Ipad was next to him. The room was dark and peaceful but the pull of technology got to him and he reached over to check his messages. It was 10:30, he had a new message. "HAPPY New Year! Not quite there yet, they probably decided they won't make it to midnight so triggered the message early.

Still it was 10-30 on December 31. 2020 was all but done, a year that will go down in history no doubt, a year that even the youth will remember, the year the world shutdown. As he lay in the dark an urge popped into his head, he Laughed at the notion that even his thoughts had a Scottish accent. (say a wee prayer for everybody big yin don't be shy, its been a hard yin for everybody, it's no goin tae dae ye any herm ). He Laughed again at the fact he was having a debate with himself then he closed his eyes and asked for the right words.

Thank you heavenly father for the challenges you have provided us this year. Please accept our brothers and sisters who have departed us into your loving arms. Continue to shine your light on those who dedicate themselves to providing support, assistance and solutions to those who require their attention. Thank you for guiding us to a working vaccine. Lastly holy father, please continue to shower us with your holy spirit so that more of us can walk a path of empathy, understanding, compassion, forgiveness, humility and unconditional love. Thy will be done.

Ping, whose this one from? Happy New Year.

He dragged his attention away from the phone and focused his thoughts on reflection. "The year that was! How did he feel about his year? Was he happy how it unfolded? What were the main changes he had noticed? Did he feel like he moved forward?

As he pondered over the year he felt a shift almost like a synchronisation as he connected with his truth.

Overall it had been a fantastic year. Ok, that book is still not written, but from a spiritual point of view he has moved forward dramatically and he was writing blogs and maybe honing his skills. He felt happy and at peace. The first shift he recalled Happened in May. It creeped up on him a bit, and he did not realise it till September when he was reading about it. He stopped worrying about stuff. Kay serra serra. The second shift happened in October, the power of intention at work. 10 months of setting intentions to, be a beacon of light, be kind, compassionate, forgiving, non-judgmental and he noticed himself consciously stepping around insects, his natural instinct to seek to kill any fly or spider in the room was gone. No longer squashing ants that find there way onto his office desk. Being in tune to the oneness of nature.

So what now its a new year, 2021, a new beginning, where to now? Honestly he thought I'm still a long way from Enlightenment and truthfully he was not sure he wanted to get that high up the mountain. Fact is he would be satisfied if in 2021 he reached a level of joy, of unconditional love, the level of healing.

As he Lay on his bed, the room still dark, breathing deeply, relaxing he could feel the Project Manager in him butting into the room.

Lets map out what worked for you in 2020. So the list began.

His four anchors:

• Maybe- the importance of acceptance, detachment from

outcome. Good news, bad news, Maybe, smile, this

too shall pass. Good fortune can also change so make it a simple process to release stuff. Live life with a mind open to anything.

• Frozen-emotions can be really powerful chains to

break away from. If we hold a glass of water at arms length it is not a burden, however 6 hours Later our arm is shaking, emotions are worse if we hang on to anger, jealousy, resentment we get bitter. Frozen is the cartoon-its about the song. Let it go. More of Wayne Dyers 10 principles, "There are no justified resentments and you can't give what you don't have. (if you squeeze an orange you get orange juice, squeeze an angry person you get anger.) Fill yourself with love what will come out when you get squeezed? Let it go! Forgive and moves on. Let it go.

• Is that so- increase the gap between stimulus

and response, don't react, don't defend yourself or your opinions, you don't need to prove you are right, to win. Acceptance, we are all one, I see you brother and I see God's high in you.

• Edith Pieff-No regrets, there is no such thing

as a bad decision, only the best choice available to us at that time. Sing it Edith.

What else worked? The long drive Mondays and Fridays and taking the opportunity to listen to audiobooks. In fact being informed that the the New Testament vibrates over 700 and that keeping things that vibrate that high close raises your own vibration is the reason I've been sleeping next to it and reading it.

Then there was using cards to set daily intentions in line with his quest to raise his vibration.

It still surprises him how, more often than not the card he pulls is so pertinent to what is going on at the time.

Oh and obviously there are the fundamentals of meditation and prayer. Find silence, find God? and ask and it is given, Dear Lord, how may I serve, why am I here? how can I help raise the consciousness level?

Enjoying lying back on the bed in the dark he thought the List is getting a bit long but he believed the little writing course he did deserved to be in there. It got him back on track with his writing but more importantly the fact that some of the others got him interested in Angels and spirit guides. (Live life with a mind open to anything) It led in his belief to the second shift. Talking to them as part of his bedtime ritual asking for guidance led to some surprising synchronicity.

He checked his watch 11.45 almost midnight, almost a new year, almost 2021, a new beginning. he felt alive and his thoughts went through the motions of his strategies and connections that helped him make the progress in 2020. More of the same was his initial thought, but as usual with thoughts his brain filled with with the cry-You can't solve a problem at the level it was created. You need a breakthrough, a new teacher. In a world where 78% of the population calibrate below the level of integrity and only 4% get to where you want to go or higher you are going to need something else to help get to the next camp on the mountain. As the relaxed and focused on his breaths he knew there was something he was missing. Like those times you maybe know a song, its on the tip of your tongue but, it's not there. The one that jumps into your head 3 hours later and slaps you in the face.

He focused on his breathing, in breath, out breath. Ping, Happy New Year, Midnight or in Scotland, the Bells. As his thoughts wandered to his homeland it came to him. The audio book on rising up the calibration scale. What the orator said. "In my experience progression to this level comes after the person manages to open their third eye.

Six days Later he woke to the alarm, time to get up for work, another crazy dream? He thought it was similar to the previous 5 nights. Since new year! Was there something in that? He had been asking his angels, spirit guides, and higher self for guidance and assistance to help open his third eye.

Showered and dressed in his hi-vis protective clothing he absentmindedly picked up his deck of Angel cards and started shuffling. He stopped and pulled his card for the day. His card was Dreams. It always makes him Laugh when it happens (thinking about a subject, pull that card). He pulled the book to find out what the card meant. Turns out the universe was involved, The angels want him to record his dreams so he will remember the messages they will deliver to him. Are these messages going to enable him to open his third eye? Will this be a case of when the student is ready the teacher appears?

Later that evening he meditated for a while and got into bed. Holy Father, my guardian angels, my angels, spirit guides, my higher self and ascended masters I give you permission to join me in my dreams and please guide me and help me to clear and unblock my Chakras and open up my third eye. Help me to remember my dreams and to interpret any signs or messages I need to help me on my journey. Thy will be done.

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imspardagus · 5 years

Text

In Bruges

Last week I went cycling in Bruges. For two-and-a-half hours, in a procession of mainly older men following an exuberant guide, I pedalled along main streets and backstreets; and I was mostly terrified.

I should make it very clear – I owe it to the City and people of Bruges to do so – that there was no objective reason for my terror. Bruges has the title of most cycle friendly city in, well, Belgium at least, and, while that may not seem the greatest accolade, it is fully deserved.

Bruges is a small, compact city, but it is still a city and its inhabitants could be forgiven for displaying the self-protecting want of empathy that most city-dwellers wear like an enveloping cloak. But somehow, even in the face of staggering hordes of tourists, they have managed on the whole to keep their humanity and their humour.

And this has spilled out to embrace their use of road space. The general tendency elsewhere is for pedestrians to hate those on wheels and for those on wheels to hate those on foot while equally loathing each other, creating a ballet of aggression performed on every street. Somehow, when we get into the driving seat of a vehicle our ability to recognise and respect our fellow human beings gets switched off. We become warriors and our vehicles are our armour. Somehow, when we climb onto the saddle of a push bike or a motorbike, anyone standing or walking is a stupid obstacle and anyone in a vehicle is a crazed thug. Our two wheels mark us out as evolutionarily superior. Somehow, when we are on foot and see a person at the wheel of a car or astride a bike we see an enemy, an alien and a threat.

But not in Bruges. Our guide told us that in Bruges drivers of vehicles give way to cyclists and cyclists and pedestrians treat each other with respect. “Oh yeah?” I murmured to myself, cynically. But in the time that followed I had only proof that it was true. Vehicles drove at sensible speeds and not only looked out for cyclists but stopped and slowed and waited for them. No horns, no menacing revving, no cutting up, not a single instance of impatience, just acceptance of their equal right to be on the road.

And perhaps because of it, most cyclists stuck to the road, leaving the narrow pavements to pedestrians. But where foot-travellers and bikers coincided, there too was a mutual respect. Those on foot made room. Bikers didn’t career savagely through crowds. The pinging of bells was simply a polite warning and not an angry demand to get out of the way.

It seemed natural, unforced. Not an imposition but just the way people had decided things were to be. And I could not help but be aware of it, coming from an equally small English town where the highways are a battleground, where lycra louts race through pedestrian subways scattering all before them and shouting abuse at those who cannot move quickly enough, where motorists drive through red lights at pelican crossings, and up pedestrian precincts rather than walk 20 metres to hand over their gifts to charity shops and lorries routinely block footways while their drivers unload and where pedestrians, in thrall to their smartphones, wander, heads down, expecting everyone else to get out of their way.

I wondered what it would take to change our mindset to emulate theirs. What would we have to excise and lay aside, what would we have to discover in ourselves and bring to the fore? There is nothing special about being Belgian that makes one an inherently less selfish, more emotionally intelligent version of humanity. It must just be something about the way we have been brought up, the way we have been told the world works.

And I wondered how much else in our lives would be improved if we could change the way we think about each other from the competitive and combative to considerate and respectful.

Why had I been terrified? It was already building inside me before I got on the Eurostar. It had been fermenting in my gut over breakfast. When we arrived at the hire shop, I was engaged in a battle with my anxiety that was screaming at me, pleading with me to back out, make excuses, walk away. My anxiety, ever inventive, had created a vision, an expectation that I was going to die, or at least be maimed. As I took my bike and mounted, for the first time in 10 years, my hands were shaking and sweat was soaking my shirt. As I did a few practice runs, my concentration was so fierce that I was getting cramp in my arms and I could barely turn the handlebars. I wanted more than anything to give up. I didn’t. I fixed my attention on my companions, each one in his 70s or 80s and decided not to “let them down”. I am glad I did.

After only a short while, my hands were red raw from gripping the handlebar. Each time I had to take one off to signal, I became so tense that I wobbled violently. I was close to tears, quietly shouting my terror and my wish to stop. Then I remembered what I had told my children. You have to use the right part of your brain. When you get anxious, your conscious brain tries to take control. That is the worst thing it can do because it was not built for control but as an interface with the world. It gets in the way, eats up valuable processing time. And it is aided and abetted by the adrenalin flooding through you, knocking out your fine motor skills in favour of clunky fight or flight ones whose inability to serve the purpose only fuels the anxiety in a rising spiral of alarm. “Switch off, Luke. Use the Force.” Sort of. And with that epiphany, I turned to talking my outward-facing mind into letting go, letting my brain do its job. And slowly it eased and I became, if not accomplished, at least competent.

And I wonder if that is what we all need to do, in a different but parallel way. Aggression is a deeply embedded response to fear. But it is only one possible response. Selfishness is a response to insecurity. But it is only one possible response. We have others standing by, ready to be chosen. We get stuck with the choices that we have made before, choices that we have seen others make. We get stuck because each time we make that choice it gets confirmed by our brains as the go-to option. We do not have to learn to be kind. It is there waiting to be chosen. We do not have to learn to respect others. It is always an option. We only need to learn to make them our go-to choice.

In Bruges, on the streets of a small but beautiful city, that is what seems to have happened.

#Bruges #cycling #respect #mindfulness

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sandstonesunspear · 7 years

Text

The Budling, Part 1

Or alternatively known as: That obligatory accidental baby acquisition fic

Okay, it’s taken a while, but it’s finally out. I’ll post it AO3 here in a bit. Sorry it took so long.

Sameen awoke with a start. Something was wrong. They sat up and swung their legs over the edge of their bunk. They were careful not to disturb Kessel, who lay snoring loudly in the bunk below.

An unusual sensation ran through their mind once again, almost like a shy psychic touch. Sameen’s brow furrowed. What it was specifically, they couldn’t tell. They only knew that it had made them restless for the past several nights, and tonight it was more pronounced than ever.

They sighed and quietly dropped down from their bunk. Perhaps the medbay would bring some answers.

Zar’ya looked up at the sound of the medbay doors hissing open to see Sameen slink in. Her eyebrows rose at the sight of a clearly worn Saurian, an unusual sight given how resilient Saurians were.

“Evening, Sameen,” she greeted, glancing over at the clock to make sure it was actually evening. It was hard to tell day from night in space without a clock.

Sameen grunted. Zay’ra’s eyebrows crawled even higher. While they weren’t the most verbal of crewmembers, Sameen had never been one for stilted verbal communication.

“What troubles you, friend?” she asked.

“Something awoke me. A feeling running along my mind. It does not come from the crew.”

Alarm bells sounded in Zar’ya’s head. Saurians were extremely sensitive to psychic phenomena and were often the first to sound the warning if a psychic attack was about to occur. It was taxing, sure, but it was also a great feature to have when one shared a ship with others who also possessed psychic abilities.

“May I?” Zar’ya asked. It was always polite to ask first before initiating a meld with anyone not Roltocon. This was especially true if the prospective partner was a Saurian, because they tended to react to violently to unwanted telepathic contact.

Sameen nodded and closed her eyes. Zar’ya pressed her lips to theirs, eyes slipping shut as she reached out with her mind. Almost immediately, a gentle, tentative, touch danced across the telepathic connection. It caused her to pull back and look at Sameen in surprise.

Sameen looked at Zar’ya worriedly, not having expected her to sever the connection so soon.

“That,” they said. “That was the feeling.”

Zar’ya’s gaze softened. “It’s nothing malicious,” she rushed to assure them.

“What do you mean? It does not come from the ship!” Sameen protested.

“Sameen, you’re budding.”

Sameen was taken aback. That couldn’t be right. They had joined with Samar almost a year ago, before everything had gone to hell, but insofar Sameen could tell, nothing had resulted from the joining. At the time, they had just thought that perhaps they had misinterpreted the signs and hadn’t quite reached that stage in the Saurian lifecycle yet. And then once they had been sent into space by Cadmus, they had chalked it up to stress at being the only Saurian on the ship.

“Sameen?”

Zar’ya’s gentle tone snapped them out of their shock.

“My apologies, Zar’ya. What did you ask?”

“Do you have anyone to help you?” she asked. If she recalled correctly, Saurians needed a partner to aid them along during their budding cycle, particularly for the latter half. Otherwise, the pain and stress could easily kill them.

Sameen placed their hand on their pouch. They looked out the window of the medbay.

“No.” They replied after several moments. “Not here. Not now.”

It was a well-established fact that, despite being more than willing to pull several all-nighters in a row, Alex Danvers loved sleep. Having been an agent of a semi-clandestine paramilitary organization on Earth, and now the de-facto captain of a starship, a night of uninterrupted sleep was a rare, wonderfully extraordinary gift.

So, when her comm terminal started to ping with a new message, Alex was growling even before she was fully awake. She lifted her head to see the light flashing red intermittently, signaling that the message was urgent, and resisted the urge to face-plant back into her pillow. She got up and stumbled over to her terminal, eyes squinting as its bright light illuminated the otherwise dark captain’s quarters.

‘Captain, your presence is requested in the medbay. This is a sensitive matter that must be discussed in person. –Zar’ya.’

Alex’s brows furrowed at the message. Well that was…vague. Still, Zar’ya wasn’t one for exaggeration.

She sighed and threw on her coat. So much for a quiet night.

Zar’ya and Sameen both looked up when the doors to the medbay hissed open. Zar’ya felt slightly guilty for having sent the message so late at night, seeing that Alex was exhausted. But this wasn’t something that could wait.

“Alright, what’s up?” Alex asked around a yawn. She blinked a few times to clear her eyes. She was surprised to see Sameen sitting on one of the tables. “Sameen?”

Sameen was silent. They were still coming to terms with the Zar’ya’s discovery. They had no idea how to explain the situation.

Zar’ya cleared her throat. “My apologies for waking you, Captain, but as you can see, I have an urgent matter to discus with you,” she said.

“I’m not seeing much of anything right now, Zar,” Alex said. “Care to clue me in?”

“I am budding,” Sameen spoke up, before Zar’ya could say anything else.

That caught Alex’s attention. “You’re what?” Was Sameen about to split in two or something?

“Budding,” they said again. Had the Captain not heard them the first time?

Alex waved her hand. “I got that part, but—”

“How much do you know about Saurian life cycles, Captain?” Zar’ya interrupted.

Alex’s brow furrowed. “Not much,” she said slowly. She gave Sameen an apologetic look. “They weren’t a species the DEO ran into often.”

Zar’ya nodded. “Understandable.” She cleared her throat again. “Do you mind if I explain your situation to the Captain, Sameen, or would you prefer to do it?”

Sameen waved their hand. “I will leave it to you. Should you require my aid, I will provide it.”

“Uh, hello?” Alex waved her hand. “The human is lost here.”

Zar’ya sighed. “Saurians have a complex life cycle, Captain,” she started. “And they can only reproduce at a certain point in their life. The term is hard to translate, but the closest thing would be ‘budding,’ hence Sameen’s use of the word.”

Alex frowned but said nothing as she processed the information.

“Sameen has reached that point in their life.”

The pieces finally clicked for Alex. “Wait,” she said. She pointed between the two. “You’re saying that Sameen is pregnant?”

“No?” It came off more as a question than a concrete answer. “Ish?” She tried again.

“Ish?!” Alex was trying incredibly hard not to lose it. Yes, she medical doctor and yes, she had extensive knowledge regarding xenobiology, but she had no idea what to do with a pregnant alien. It was bad enough that they were all stuck on a ship that was lightyears away from Earth, but they were also stuck on a ship whose medbay was not equipped to handle pregnant individuals, regardless of the species.

Sameen picked up on Alex’s panic and immediately moved to counter it.

“This medbay will serve its duty fine, Captain. The medbay is not the concern.”

Sameen’s words pulled Alex back from her panic, but only just.

“What do you mean it’s not a concern? Of course it’s a concern!” she sputtered. “We don’t have the proper equipment to handle anyone birthing anything! Not to mention, we’re in the middle of space and extremely wanted!”

Zar’ya placed her hand on Alex’s shoulder, drawing her attention. “Let Sameen explain before you completely go off the rails, Captain.”

Alex took a deep breath and motioned for Sameen to continue.

“My people do not birth as humanoids do. The subunit is not brought into the world cold, but rather into our pouch.” Sameen motioned to a region on her lower abdomen. Alex could make out a slight opening. “The ship will not require any added or unique nutritional supplements for the subunit, as the pouch will provide them.

“I’m sensing there’s just a bit more to this than you’re letting on,” Alex said.

Sameen nodded. “In order for the subunit to emerge safely, I require a kepesh-par.”

Alex’s brow furrowed. “A what?” She could speak Kryptonese, Martian, and a smattering of other alien languages, but that had just gone completely over her head.

Sameen frowned. How best to describe a term that had no proper translation outside of the Saurian language?

Zar’ya stepped in. “I believe the closest translation would be a combination of co-parent and birth coach.” She looked to Sameen for confirmation and was met with a nod.

“What exactly does a kepesh-par do, aside from help a baby Saurian emerge?” Alex asked curiously.

“They aid a budding Saurian through the pain.” Sameen replied simply. “Without a kepesh-par, we Saurians would fall in the face of the stress and pain.”

“Wait, you’re saying you could die from this?”

“Without a kepesh-par, yes.”

Alex could only stare in disbelief. Sameen was incredibly calm with divulging this information.

“Saurian births aren’t like a human’s, Captain,” Zar’ya spoke up. “They involve a great deal of psychic pain in addition to physical pain, since a telepathic connection gets formed between the main parent and the subunit.”

Alex said nothing as she took the information in. She took a deep breath.

“Alright.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. She looked at Sameen. “What exactly would you need in a kepesh-par? Do they have to be Saurian?” If they did, then Sameen was in trouble since they were the only Saurian on board.

Sameen shook their head. “No, while preferred, a kepesh-par does not need to be Saurian. They simply must be able to handle the psychic and physical load of the emergence without their brain hemorrhaging or dying.”

Alex looked to Zar’ya. “Do we have someone on board that’s capable of that?” she asked.

Zar’ya gave a small shrug. “It would take some time, but I could probably find someone. Unfortunately, the longer we wait, the greater the danger to Sameen. There isn’t a whole lot of data on Saurians out there, but from what I’ve read, a kepesh-par needs to establish a bond with a parent and subunit pretty early on.”

Alex frowned. She folded her arms as she contemplated the options. Suddenly a thought struck her.

“What about me?” she asked suddenly, taking both Zar’ya and Sameen by surprise.

Zar’ya frowned. “What about you?”

“Would I work as a kepesh-par?” Alex clarified. “I’ve melded with Martians before and my brain didn’t turn into chunky salsa.” Zar’ya face screwed up in disgust at the image.

Sameen shook their head. “I cannot ask this of you, Captain,” they said.

Alex gave them a small smile. She placed her hand on Sameen’s shoulder.

“I’m offering, Sameen,” she said gently.

“It will bring you pain.”

“I can handle pain.” She shrugged. “Before all this happened, I was worked for a paramilitary organization and had a tendency to punch things much bigger than myself.” A thoughtful look crossed her face. “Come to think of it, I still tend to punch things much bigger than myself.”

The truth in that remark drew a laugh from Sameen and a sigh of exasperation from Zar’ya.

“You’re part of my family out here, Sameen,” Alex continued. “I’m not going to let you die from something that I can prevent. And there’s no way in hell I’d let you go through this alone.”

Silence reigned in the medbay following Alex’s declaration. Zar’ya scanned her data-pad, just to see if what Alex was proposing was even safe, let alone possible. Alex did have a high tolerance for pain. After all, she had returned from a planet-expedition with four broken ribs and said not a word about them. The only reason Zar’ya knew was because Kessel had brought it to her attention so she could treat Alex.

Sameen mulled over Alex’s words. Samar wasn’t here and they needed a kepesh-par, sooner rather than later. They had felt Alex’s mental fortitude and caught glimpses of her stubbornly defying a White Martian’s mental probe. They closed their eyes and felt Alex’s sincerity in her offer.

“Very well.” Sameen broke the silence, drawing Alex and Zar’ya from their thoughts. She looked at Alex. “Captain, I would be honored to have you as my kepesh-par.”

A wide smile broke across Alex’s face. “I’m the one honored, Sameen,” she said with a tip of her head. She glanced at Zar’ya, whose attention had returned to the data-pad.

Zar’ya looked up, having felt Alex’s gaze on her. She shot a quick look back to her data-pad before nodding.

Alex returned the nod before focusing back on Sameen. “Alright.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.” She frowned for a moment. “Is there anything in particular that I need do before…?”

Sameen shook their head. “No, Captain. Be at ease.” They placed a clawed hand on the side of Alex’s face with a gentleness one would not expect. “May our minds be one.”

Alex felt a slight twinge before things fell away.

Alex opened her eyes to an inky blackness. She looked around. She was alone. She opened her mouth to speak but no noise made its way out of her throat. She didn’t have time to panic before a whooshing noise caught her attention. She turned to see images rushing past her.

An image of Kara and the others during Game Night played for a moment. Her eyes widened. These were memories.

Alex felt the air shift as the memory changed from Game Night to her and Maggie dancing on Valentine’s Day. Her heart clenched at the sight of Maggie resting her head on her shoulder as they both gently swayed to the music.

The shifted again. This time, it was a foreign memory, probably Sameen’s. She saw another Saurian holding Sameen, almost like Maggie had held her. Samar. The name came unbidden to Alex’s mind. This had to have been Sameen’s original kepesh-par, she mused. She couldn’t help but feel a bit like a voyeur watching this memory play out.

The images of Sameen and Samar faded out leaving Alex in the dark once again. She felt unusually calm, despite being alone in the vastness of…well whatever this was.

A small little thrill went through her suddenly. She looked to her right and saw a dim light in the distance. Alex walked towards it. Each step saw the light grow brighter and brighter until it was almost blinding.

Alex shielded her eyes once she finally made it to the light. As if sensing Alex’s discomfort, the light dimmed down. She lowered her arm to see what exactly it was she was dealing with. She frowned at the sight of a glowing ball. It appeared to be no bigger than a softball.

She reached out to touch it and it moved to meet her halfway. She gasped when her hand connected with it, feeling a surge of emotions rush through her.

This was Sameen’s budling. Alex couldn’t hold back her laugh at the feeling of utter joy it exuded. It was playful, almost bouncy. Like Kara…

The comparison brought forth a memory of Kara laughing and smile. It played around them, the sound of Kara’s laughter making the budling bounce around.

“Hi,” Alex said quietly. “I’m Alex Danvers. Guess you probably already know that. I’m your parent’s kepesh-par and I’m going to help keep you safe.”

The budling pulsed happily in response.

Alex felt a subconscious tug. Someone, Sameen probably, was pulling her back. That meant the meld was ending.

The budling pulsed sadly as it felt Alex being pulled away.

“Hey, none of that now,” she scolded gently. “I’ll be around.”

The budling gave two short pulses, as if telling Alex that it was holding her to that.

Alex smiled and closed her eyes, feeling the air rush past her.

Alex opened her eyes. She was met with Zar’ya’s worried gaze.

“You alright, Captain?” she questioned, her voice full of concern.

Alex had to blink a few times to readjust to the lights of the medbay. “I think so?” It came out more as a question than a definitive answer than Alex would’ve liked it to. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were down for a while,” Zar’ya explained. “Barely breathing or moving.” She shot a look at Sameen. “If Sameen hadn’t told me you were fine, I would’ve thought the meld had killed you.”

Sameen made a wounded noise of protest at that. “The Captain is resilient. Her mind is strong. I knew as soon as the meld began she was in no danger.”

Alex cleared her throat to catch their attention and to keep the two of them from fighting.

“Zar, I’m fine,” she reassured. “A little disoriented, sure, but it’s nothing I won’t recover from.”

She looked at Sameen, who was staring at her.

“Did it work?” she asked them.

Sameen closed their eyes. They could feel the subunit, no, budling, Sameen corrected themselves when it pulsed petulantly. Apparently, it had come to enjoy Alex’s term for it and no longer wished to be referred to as a subunit. They smiled. The budling bounced around telepathically, informing Sameen of Alex’s journey and all the fun memories it had seen and expressed its happiness with their kepesh-par.

“Yes, Captain,” they replied, opening their eyes. “It has worked. Feel for yourself.”

Alex frowned. Feel for herself? How was she supposed to do that?

On a whim, she closed her eyes. She felt a happy thrill skitter across her mind. Her eyes snapped open in shock.

“How…?” Was all she could ask.

“As the kepesh-par, you now share a link with the budling, as I do. As you can tell…”

“It’s happy.” A grin spread wide across Alex’s lips. “Wow. That’s…that’s something else.” It was different, feeling the budling’s emotions outside of the meld.

Before Alex could say anything else, a wave of exhaustion suddenly swept over her. She swayed slightly and had to brace herself against the medical bed to keep from falling over.

Zar’ya rushed to her side in alarm. Alex waved her away.

“’M fine, Zar,” she protested.

“You’re slurring your words, Captain,” Zar’ya retorted. “You are most definitely not fine.” She moved to grab the scanner, but Sameen stopped her.

“The Captain is fine, Zar’ya,” they said. “She is simply taxed from the melding. It is draining for anyone who has not undergone it.”

“Yeah, what they said,” Alex slurred. She struggled to right herself.

Despite Sameen’s assurances and Alex’s protests, Zar’ya scanned Alex anyway. She nodded when the scanner confirmed what Sameen had said.

She sighed. “I suppose it doesn’t help that you were woken up rather late, or early, I guess,” she said, closing scanner with a shut. “Best thing now is for you to get some rest, Captain. And no melding for the next few days.”

Alex looked ready to protest, but a firm glare from Zar’ya kept her silent. She settled for grumbling her dissatisfaction as she moved to leave.

“And Captain?” Zar’ya called out.

Alex glanced back over her shoulder just as she reached the doors.

“I mean it, do get some rest. Who knows when you’ll get the opportunity again?”

Alex’s frowned, slightly baffled, but said nothing. She exited the medbay, unaware of the smirk on Zar’ya’s face.

“That was unnecessarily cruel, Zar’ya,” Sameen remarked.

Zar’ya shrugged. “Humans. Think they’re invincible, especially that one.” She sat down and glanced out the window of the medbay. “Think you’ll be able to sleep soundly now, knowing what’s coming?”

Sameen nodded. “Yes.” A smile appeared on their face as the budling reached out, as if it knew it was being discussed.

“Good. You ought to get back to sleep then,” she said. “You’ll be needing it too.”

“I find the humour of your statement to be lacking,” they replied dryly.

Zar’ya flashed them a cheeky smile.

Alex face planted on to her bed. Melding with Sameen had taken a lot out of her, more than melding with J’onn or the White Martians ever had. Establishing a connection with the budling had been enjoyable experience but she couldn’t help but feel a little sad. She and Maggie had discussed having children, but only in passing. Privately, she wondered what Maggie would say if she were here.

Alex let out a sigh and closed her eyes. There was no use in thinking about it now. It would only make the ache in her heart stronger.

Her eyes snapped back open when Zar’ya’s cheeky remark finally clicked her in head. Oh Rao. She was going to be a co-parent/birth coach. There was going to be a tiny child-alien-budling roaming the ship, a ship that seemed to be a hostile raiding party magnet.

She could already hear her mother chiding her, ‘Really, Alexandra? I can’t believe you allowed a child to be born on an alien ship in outer space surrounded by hostile forces! What were you thinking?’

Alex let out a groan. As much as she missed her family, she was grateful, not for the first time, that some of them, namely her mother, hadn’t accompanied her the night Cadmus shot her into space.

She glanced at the clock. It flashed an obscenely early time at her. She buried her face in the pillow. Enough. She’d worry about all the tiny details and panic properly in the morning. Right now, she needed sleep.

After all, Zar’ya had a point: Alex was going to lose some major sleep with a tiny budling on the way.

#space pirate alex #alex 'fight me' danvers #alex danvers #my writing #supergirl #sandstonesunspear

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