#there’s never any compassion or trying to make me more comfortable or just being with me so I’m not stuck on the bathroom floor for who | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

giddyfatherchris · 4 months

Text

I can't sleep

pairing: bang chan x reader

type: not requested

warnings: none, pure fluff baby

word count: 1k

requests: open for stray kids and bts

a/n: i thought of this when i had an insomnia episode for a few weeks and it always helped make me feel better, i hope it does the same for any night owl out there xxx

summary: the reader cannot find sleep, but instead finds comfort in the arms of her sweet sweet sweet partner

You awoke for what felt like the millionth night in a row. Eyes wide open, a little hot, and completely lucid. You stared at the ceiling, praying you would fall back asleep, but nothing.

Lately, you felt like a broken record. Almost every night, you would have the weirdest dreams and wake up every hour, struggling to get back to sleep. You would either end up on the couch reading a book or stay in bed trying every trick to reach a peaceful slumber once more.

Some nights, Chan was right by your side, and you cursed him for being asleep while you weren't. Of course, you immediately chased the thought from your brain every time. You knew how much sleep evaded him. The rare nights he could get were a blessing, and you would be a horrible person if you ever were mad at him for recuperating all his missing hours.

You checked your phone, hoping the time on your device would be decent enough for you to get up. You let out a growl of disappointment when you saw the numbers 3, 1, and 0 flash on the screen. You couldn’t help a spasm of frustration only to stop the motion dead in your tracks. You winced, praying you didn’t wake Chan up. After a few seconds of statuesque immobility, you realized your Aussie boyfriend was not in bed. You patted the blankets, searching for his muscular frame, but found nothing. You sat up and noticed the door ajar with a feeble light filtering through the crack.

You got out of bed, not before wrapping yourself properly like a burrito, and went out. Unsurprisingly, you found Chan in his office, gaze focused on the screen before his eyes. His hair was disheveled beneath the hood of his sweater. He wore his favorite pair of sweatpants and looked cozy as all hell. It seemed you weren’t the only one sleep eluded tonight.

You observed him for a few seconds, admired his handsome features, and marveled at his concentration. You felt your heart flutter with love for the man before you, gently humming to some mysterious song only he knew about. You shuffled to him, attracting his attention.

"Oh, hey baby. I didn’t know you were awake." he smiled at you like you were the best thing in the world, and you felt a herd of butterflies take control of your stomach but pouted at the mention of your insomnia.

"I think I caught your illness," you whined with your lower lip deep set in a pout. "I can't sleep well lately." He looked at your moody expression with a small smile illuminating his bare face. God, you were cute.

"Poor baby," he cooed, "I'm sorry to hear that." He opened his arms, motioning for you to sit on his lap.

You did so happily, sitting on his thighs and facing him like a koala. He stroked your back and held you tight.

"I'm sorry for saying I caught your illness. I feel so guilty telling you I can't sleep knowing you've been dealing with insomnia your whole life. I sound like a bratty kid, I'm sorry," you mumbled on his clothed shoulder.

He pulled back enough to meet your face. "Hey, I never said anything like that and didn't even think it. I get how frustrating it can be. As you said, I can't even remember a time when I didn't have insomnia. I'm so used to it that I don't really care anymore, but that doesn't mean I can't show you compassion for going through something similar. Okay? So I don't want to hear anything more about feeling guilty."

You nodded shyly before letting your head fall on his shoulder.

"My beautiful angel", he whispered while kissing the side of your head, just above your ear. You nuzzled in the crook of his neck, took a deep breath, and inhaled his familiar scent, appreciating the calming effect it always had on you.

You finally looked at his screen, wondering what he was working on. As usual, when Chan couldn’t sleep he used that time to work. He figured at a young age that if he couldn't use the late hours of the night to rest, he might as well put that free time to good use. He quickly explained the new song he was working on, inspiration striking in the dead of the night. You nodded appreciatively before settling your forehead on his chest.

You stayed like that for a little while, hoping sleep would find you, as it sometimes happened when you were cuddling with Chan, but nothing. Not the faintest sign of sleepiness.

"You really can’t sleep, uh?" he asked when you wiggled on his lap for the third time. He also hoped the cuddles would have lulled you to sleep as it usually did, and wondered if he had lost some of his effect on you.

You sighed deeply, "I don't know what's happening to me."

He sat back in his chair, hands on your thighs, to face you. He gently lifted his hands to cup your cheeks. You leaned into the touch and almost started purring like a kitten when he stroked the side of your face.

"I think it’s time we use the big guns," he suggested magnanimously.

He carried you to the couch and gently laid you down before disappearing. You heard him rummaging in the kitchen for a little while before he returned with two steaming cups of tea.

"First, a little chamomile tea. It helps to relax and fall asleep." He smiled before handing you the cup. "Careful, it's very hot."

He disappeared again and reappeared with more blankets, his Wolfchan plush you loved, and his laptop in one hand.

"What are we doing?" you stared curiously at him, the hint of a smile playing on your lips.

He sat down next to you and grabbed the remote.

"Now, we put on one of your favorite movies, and you just relax. I have to finish this tiny thing for work, and then we can cuddle. Does that sound good?"

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you looked at your oh-so-caring boyfriend. You grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. You loved the way his lips just seemed to fit perfectly with yours. Once you pulled back, he seemed a little dazed but stared at you adoringly.

"Woah, what did I do to deserve that?" he whispered, gaze still going back and forth between your eyes and lips.

"Oh, not much. Just being the best boyfriend on earth."

He smiled shyly and kissed your forehead before putting the movie on play.

You cuddled into his side, lightly playing with his free hand. You watched the first movie, sipping on your comforting cup of tea while he worked. Once done, you watched another together until sleep finally graced the both of you with its peaceful embrace.

#ilya writes #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenario #christopher bang

476 notes · View notes

angelbarelywrites · 2 months

Text

♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting (part 2)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda)/ Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; Billy Lenz, mentions of violence and general slasher activity, kidnapping, stalking

♡ notes; i didn’t include Bubba last time, so i slipped him in with the pt 2 team :v

also for ghostface i went with Danny over Billy + Stu, just because i’m more comfortable writing older characters tbh. and he’s very attractive to me. maybe i can do a college au fic of them in the future?

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> you were lost

> utterly, hopelessly lost without a map, compass, or even your backpack

> you were out camping with a couple of new friends when you wandered off to pick flowers

> well, acquaintances more like- they weren’t particularly nice to you, but you knew one from your home town

> before you knew the sun was starting to set and you had no clue which way to go

> you’re kicking yourself for being so dumb but try to make the best of it, continuing to collect flowers and pretty rocks

> soon enough you find yourself on the edge of a lake

> that couldn’t have been good- there weren’t any lakes near the campsite at all

> maybe this was that old summer camp they’d mentioned?

> either way you turn around and try your best to retrace your steps

> but even with a full moon it’s just too dark and too dense and you’re exhausted

> holding in tears, you find a small meadow and finally sit to rest

> you’re still sniffling and rubbing your eyes when someone walks up to you

> you were so oblivious that Jason was able to get a few feet in front of you before you noticed

> he seems…perplexed to find you there

> he thought he’d gotten all of the campers

> and you didn’t really look like you belonged with those fornicators

> (or at least that’s what he told himself to justify leaving you alive)

> he’s holding his machete and soaked with your companions’ blood, but you don’t seem to notice

> “…can you take me back to my friends?”

> well he most certainly cannot do that, not if he wants you to like him- though he’s not sure why that matters

> he’s still staring so you, exhausted, do the only thing you can think to

> “…do you want a flower? I picked a lot”

> he’s delighted and takes it before finally gesturing for you to follow him

> you can’t keep up, so eventually he picks you up

> and like that you’re nearly dozing off

> you don’t even notice he’s taking you back the way you came from

> and he’s glad- he wasn’t going to give you much of an option anyway

Bo Sinclair

> single travelers are so much easier to deal with

> so when Lester gives him the call that some college kid was stuck on the road, he’s eager for an easy catch

> you take your sweet ass time getting to the station- even though Lester drove you most of the way you let him drop you off just outside of town

> the smell of the truck was really getting to you, and you’re happy to let the dog lead you

> when he strides out you’re cooing over Jonesy and giving her a belly rub for her troubles

> he’s seen his fair share of attractive victims

> men, women, and folks that didn’t fit either category

> and he’s slept with most of them

> but you… there’s something extra special about you

> he decides right there he’s not taking care of you without at least getting a taste

> you’re not too impressed by his flirting- or at least you try and act like it

> but he catches your pink cheeks and quiet giggles as he takes you on a walk

> because of course he’s got the part down the road at his place

> by the time you get there he’s decided he’s marrying you - or maybe keeping you tied up, beggars can’t be choosers

> he’s impulsive but he’s never wanted to keep anyone before

> “hey sugar-“ god your face heats up just hearing him call you that “turns out I don’t have that part you need. It should be in by tomorrow, if you can stay the night?”

> you say yes before you can think critically- he’s good at getting folks wrapped around his finger like that

> “Good. Cause I’m just dying to show you some real southern hospitality…”

Danny Johnson

> he knows you long before you know him

> he’s a natural nosy guy- he’s a journalist after all

> and a serial killer, of course stalking is on his to do list

> originally you were going to be a victim

> you’d make a good story, a young person taken tragically early

> but you were too cute to die just yet- he had to at least meet you, just once

> if you were a dick no one would say anything nice for your article, right?

> so he just happens to bump into you outside your work one day

> literally bump

> when you spill coffee all over yourself he smoothly apologizes and offers to help clean you up

> “What a mess- I’m so sorry sweets. Let me take care of all this”

> and you fall for it, hook line and sinker

> he’s a handsome guy, he’s used to that but he’s smug anyways

> he gives you a spare shirt of his, though you still skip work

> he buys you another coffee and you sit in his car chatting

> you’re innocent enough to trust him like that- to get in a vehicle with a strange man?

> a strange man that’d been stalking you, no less

> it’s adorable- if he wasn’t so attached he could kill you right there

> but you’re just so damn sweet, and genuine

> and you’re so fascinated by these Ghost Face killings…

> maybe you’re worth keeping around for a bit

> just a bit

> that’s what he says to himself anyways

> when you meet him as Ghost Face, it’s after you’ve already got him all figured out

> and he’s lucky that you like a bad boy

Billy Lenz

> it’s a given that you first meet him over the phone

> you’re renting out a spare room from Mrs Mac, not in the sorority but a good enough tenant that she keeps you around

> you get along well with the girls and cook them meals, run study sessions and help clean

> it’s almost parental at times, even if you’re not far off in age

> Billy hates you at first, for taking such good care of ‘filthy piggy whores’

> he tells you just as much over the phone, but you’re not bothered

> you never seem to be bothered by his calls

> and that pisses him off more

> but you’re so so cute… it quickly becomes an obsession

> he’s in your walls constantly, watching you

> and the calls from the moaner start coming more and more frequently at times you’re home alone

> one day you just start giggling at him, tipsy “you know, you scare the girls,”

> “good i—“

> “but your voice is sooo nice. that’s why i pick up so much”

> you didn’t mean to confess that , and you hope he takes it as an awkward joke

> when he hangs up you think that maybe he did take it that way

> its not until late that night that you realize that he knew he was sincere

> before you can register that there’s anything wrong he’s covering your mouth and pinning you to your bed

> “hi there, baby doll,”

> his grin gets huge when your still horrified face goes bright red

> he always knew you were perfect

Bubba Sawyer

> you pick up Nubbins hitchhiking one day, and he’s just dumbfounded by you

> you’re nonplussed by his rambling and you don’t squirm at his yucky pictures. you don’t even kick him out, just drop him off at the gas station.

> you’re not really his type, but you’re fascinating

> he’s gotta get you home to meet his brothers

> so he pops your tires when you go inside- all four

> when you come back out Drayton is cursing him out and smacking him upside the head

> he makes him take you back to the house to rest up while he gets you tires

> of course he intends for Bubba to kill you

> but Nubbins doesn’t pass the message along, because he’s Nubbins

> “Here Bubba! I made us a new friend!”

> you shyly greet him, but he’s an oddly calming presence

> let’s be honest you’ve gotta be okay with a lot fast to like the Sawyers

> so maybe you’re just in denial about the material

> but you tell him you like his mask- and you do

> he obviously worked really hard on getting the makeup just right- and it compliments his suit

> he stares at you a long while before taking your hand and giving you a grand tour

> well, more a tour of his favorite spots

> the chicken coup, a patch of wildflowers out back, and his room full of trinkets collected from victims

> you’re strangely enamored by this big, quiet man

> and you don’t get the sense you’re allowed to leave

> especially when Drayton comes home and goes on and on about witnesses

> but you didn’t really even have an end goal in mind on your road trip anyways

> and now you’ve got Bubba to protect you

> maybe it’s not so bad, stuck with those weirdos

323 notes · View notes

starberry-cupcake · 2 months

Text

back by popular (?) demand, I am now starting chapter 28 of gideon the ninth and I guess I'm sharing updates to the general public now ( @lady-harrowhark this is your responsibility). I think I'm gonna put them under this tag because I am being told I will want to look back on them later (sounds threatening ngl).

previously, in gideon the ninth:

isaac was ended by some junji ito shit

jannemary was ended by a stealthy junji ito shit

very pointed messages were written for them

which is too dramatic to be a random monster killing, if you ask me

gideon took a 15 minute nap and was startled awake in hell

gideon most definitely did not look much at the room before she took said nap, nor did she remember the paper she's still carrying around

I'm losing my mind at the paper

I'm like watching another d&d player choose to never look at something the dm gave them

were we are now:

gideon is back, now with More Trauma

harrow has the compassion of a feral kitten

this is a bad combination for me, personally, in particular, because this means gideon is going to look for comfort in my mortal enemy dulcinea

she gives her a talk that is trying to distract me from the fact that I don't trust her, but I will never trust her

she was like "it'd be better to die here than to be living longer and trapped" and I was like "wanna let me help you with that?"

palamedes has also been carrying a dulcinea boner, which also makes things difficult for me

because if my mortal enemy ends up being bad and dangerous, and palamedes is in danger, it would force camilla to be in danger, and we don't want, under any circumstances, to put camilla in danger

mayonnaise uncle has been gossiping in the eighth and ortus's mom (where I'm from, 'orto' means 'ass', so I will never forget his name) spilled the beans on the ninth

he offers gideon literal tea with a side of the metaphorical tea

here's where I went "boy, I sure hope harrow doesn't push gideon away and gives her a reason to turn to these guys"

harrow proceeds to do just that

with clockwork precision

I cannot emphasize enough how meticulously she did this

if pushing people away was an olympic sport, and if that was the way to judge this competition, this book would be 10 pages long because harrow has mastered the craft

you could hear gideon's psyche becoming dust

needless to say, we're having tea with the eighth soon, everyone bring your scones and poison

which, you know, fine, at least gideon will be told information

and btw, protesilaus is still live reacting from an unknown location

idk what regina george twin, yandere simulator twin and chad the third are doing but, at this point, I don't know what anyone is doing, really

except for dulcinea, I JUST KNOW she's up to no good

and the second is probably still dealing with the fact that they lost to Camilla The Everything

#tlt #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #luly rambles #luly reacts to tlt #tlt spoilers

180 notes · View notes

tinydefector · 2 months

Text

Transformers reacting to Nipple piercings

Characters: Mtmte Rodimus, ROFB Mirage, TFP Knockout

Warnings: slight nsfw, oral fixation, nipple piercings, hinted smut, piercing care.

If people enjoy this series I might make some others.

Word count 3K

Request and ask open, read pinned post

_______________

Rodimus

They couldn't sit still. The fabric of their shirt continued to rub against their skin in an unpleasant manner, ignoring it was the only option at that moment. They sat on Rodimus' desk helping him with reports. "How's your report going Rodimus?" They ask while trying to get in a more comfortable position.

Rodimus sighed in frustration as he reviewed the long list of maintenance reports in need of sign-off. "Not great," he replied. "There always seems to be more work to do than cycles in a solar cycle. I don't know how Megatron keeps up with it all. or how Ultra Magnus can write so much" He offers a rueful smile. "Thanks for helping me plough through these. It's much more bearable with help and company."

Taking note of the fidgeting, Rodimus asked gently, "Is your plating bothering you? I wish we had better abrasives to smooth the rough spots. Being cooped up inside the Lost Light so much can't be easy on your systems." His optics shone with compassion for his human friend's discomfort.

"It's called a shirt Rods, humans wear them kinda like how you bots have plating over your body, And no the fabric is just irritating my skin today, keeps catching on my piercings" they mumble the last part to themself.

A curious look came over Rodimus's face. "Piercings? What in the Pits are those?" he asked.

"They are little decorative pieces of metal we have put through our skin. Some we wear in our ears, nose, lips, eyebrows, it's a little bit of a painful process but they are pretty" they explained.

Rodimus nodded thoughtfully at further explanation on human piercings. "I can see the appeal of adornments, even if the application sounds rather narely," he said. Furrowing his optics, Rodimus peered more closely at their frame. "Hmm, if they're meant to be visible decorations, then why can't I see any of you now?" he wondered aloud. "Are they retractable like transformation seams? Or is human flesh somehow capable of covering them up? Your species never ceases to perplex me with your biological quirks and tricks."

They laugh loudly before wincing slightly. "They aren't always on display, but no we can't retract them but we can take them out. Mine are just under the shirt is all. And feel rather tender at the moment"

"So they come out, huh?" Rodimus responded thoughtfully. Curiosity piqued, he asked, "Do you have them on you now under the shirt? Can I see? Do they have lights or are they just metal?."

He tilted his head inquisitively. "Fleshly adornments are such an alien concept to me." Pausing, Rodimus added excitedly.

With a small shake of their head in amusement at Rodimus' curiosity they speak again. "Sure I'll let you have a look." They are quick to discard their shirt sitting there so Rodimus can look. Each nipple has a bar though it with a little ball at each end. Rodimus is overly eager to touch and inspect.

Careful with his touches, Rodimus leaned in slowly for a closer look. "Fascinating," he murmured, optics shining with wonder at the novel modifications. Up close, he was even more intrigued by the symmetrical placements and elegant simplicity of the adornments. Softly, as if handling something incredibly fragile, Rodimus raised a finger and ghosted it above one glistening bar, mesmerised by the contrast of cool metal against warm flesh.

Servo hovering, as always mindful of organic delicacy. Rodimus barely grazed the ball end with his fingertip, amazed by its give underneath hard plating. Cybertronian armour was rigid and unyielding; sensitive inner workings always shielded. He had much to learn about life beyond his kind.

a soft gasp leaves their lips as Rodimus' digit graze against their chest. The piercings themselves were still rather tender, but the soft touch of cold metal against them left goose bumps across skin, they relaxed into the touch. Both their works are forgotten.

Rodimus noted the soft intake of air and sensations rendering their plating sensitive. "My apologies, I didn't mean to make it hurt," he said gently. When they relaxed into his feather-light touch, seemingly soothed rather than aggravated, Rodimus felt his curiosity heightening. The smooth textures and varied temperatures called out to his sensor net to further discern material properties through all means available.

Leaning closer still, Rodimus let his optics dim and his glossa slowly extended, barely brushing one adornment in a tactile sampling. Cool and slick, it traced intricate shapes with an elegance beyond his plated appendages alone.

eyes shoot open wide as they feel the cool touch of Rodimus glossa against the flushed skin, biting back a moan at the pleasant sensation. "Having fun?" They asked in a teasing tone, not stopping the bot from exploring, enjoying the feeling of Rodimus' glossa.

"Frag, sorry, curiosity tends to get the better of me," Rodimus replied lightly, though his field betrayed growing enthusiasm.

He held their gaze, optics half-shuttered, as his glossa traced delicate circles, learning every contour. Something in the way pleased noises were stifled stirred Rodimus's core, spurring his exploration ever onward in a dance of discovery.

Soft ex-vents ghosted warmly over newly sensitised skin, it prickles with more goosebumps as the air brushes the areas he had run his glossa across. eliciting subtle tremors that Rodimus felt to his struts.

They gasp and moan softly as Rodimus softly sucks on the tender skin. "Fuck Rodimus feels good" The young human arches into the touch as Rodimus' other servo slowly teases the other nipple.

Tracing lower, Rodimus' glossa circled delicately, tasting the sweet warmth of their skin through every sensor. His free servo rolled the other nub skillfully, marvelling at how small fluctuations elicited outsized effects.

Ventilation hitched as strange new feelings rose in Rodimus's spark. He focused on their pleasure, marvelling at them. slowly they pull Rodimus back, breathing slightly heavy from the experience. "I think that's enough exploring for one day Roddy, we still have reports to finish"

Rodimus loathes having to release the soft nipple from his intake, it makes Rodimus Rodimus rumbled apologetically as duty calls them back to boring reports. Yet parting from sweet flesh proved unexpectedly difficult after such revelation of how it tasted, It's addictive.

"Just a moment more," he pleaded between languid sucks, unable to relinquish the heady sensations. Never had something like this tempted him so much.

Mirage

Mirage had caught a glimpse of the piercings a few times. Mainly when he had been intimate with his lover, the small metal bars thought their nipples had never escaped his processor, But as they sat together a question lingers on mirages mind. What were they?

"Raj can you grab me a tarp, gonna need it when I do this oil change on This car" they call out.

Mirage processes the request, grabs one of the tarps from the storage area and brings it over to where his friend is working on the vehicle. He sets it down nearby so it's ready when needed.

"Here is the tarp. So..." he thinks back to the memory files of their intimate moments together "I have been curious about those things in your chest. On your nipples specifically. What made you decide to get those? Just something you found aesthetically pleasing? Or is there another reason behind it?"

"My piercings?, I got them as a dare a while back, hurt like a bitch getting them done but I don't really mind them now, until they get stuck on things then they burn, mainly keep them in because I like them" they explain as they move around getting set up to do the oil filter change. Bucket set up under the car.

Mirage listens to the explanation with interest, tilting his head slightly as he processes the words. A playful smirk spreads across his faceplates as his friend mentions the piercings occasionally getting stuck on things.

"Is that so? Well I can understand the appeal of a dare, though personally I think I'm too clever to ever get myself into such a predicament." He chuckles cockily, exuding an air of lighthearted smugness.

"As for liking how they look, I have to agree they do add a certain... aesthetic flair" His optics briefly glance over their body in a subtle once-over before meeting their gaze again with a grin.

"Just be sure not to let those piercings of yours get snagged on any wiring or plating during that oil change. Wouldn't want anything... sticking unexpectedly." He waggles his optical ridges suggestively.

"Let me know if you need an extra set of hands though. Wouldn't want an... accident to occur down there." Mirage offers his assistance in a playfully teasing tone, enjoying the back-and-forth banter as usual.

"Raj! Please, I'm working here! Perv" They call out swatting the bots hand away. They focus in on the car they are under. "Can you pass me the 10mm socket wrench" the call out while setting up their small touch to see.

Mirage chuckles good-naturedly at getting swatted away. "Ah, you know you love it when I tease," he says lightheartedly.

Making an exaggerated show of pretending to pout with downturned optical ridges and a small smirk, Mirage turns towards the tool cart. "Alright alright, no more distractions while you work."

He rummages around briefly before producing the requested 10mm socket wrench. Mirage saunters back over and holds it down for his friend, lover? to take it easily.

Settling back against the wall again, Mirage watches them get to work on the vehicle, angling his helm thoughtfully. "You know, you perform repairs so dexterously." He teases

They work quickly with undoing the oil cap to drain it. But when they lose grip on the small screw they curse. Oil spilling out quicker than expected. "Son of a bitch!" They hiss. Moving quickly after getting oil spilt over them. It makes mirage chuckle in amusement.

Mirage can't help but chuckle in mild amusement as he watches the spat of unintentional spillage. "Well well, looks like someone needs to tighten their grip," he quips lightheartedly, unable to resist the playful jab.

They roll out from under the car, oil covering them, they grumble trying to get the shocked shirt off before more of it could get on their skin or in their hair. And there they are on display again, those nipple piercings mirage liked so much, oil and grease lingering on the skin

Mirage's attention is immediately drawn to the piercings on display as his friend struggles to remove their shirt. His engine emits a subtle purr at the tantalising sight, optics roving appreciatively over the grease-stained form before him.

"Well well, what have we here?" he speaks in a low, smug tone, cocky attitude radiating off him in waves. "It seems our little spill has left quite the...messy situation."

His gaze subtly lingers on the piercings, glistening with oil, before trailing back up slowly to meet thier eyes. A grin plays across his faceplates, brimming with self-assured confidence.

"Need a hand cleaning all that grim off? I'd be happy to...lend a digit or two. And perhaps a glossa too, if you'd like - can't have precious jewellery like that staying filthy now, can we?"

He steps closer, fuel pump thrumming in approval at the enticing view. Mirage oozes smug charm, revelling in the alluring scenario before him. "What do you say...care for some assistance?"

"God you're a nuisance " the huff, but let mirage continue with his antics. Mirage lets out a playful chuckle at his friend's exasperated remark.

"A nuisance, am I? You wound me so." He clasps a hand dramatically over his spark, optics swirling with mirthful mischief.

"But you haven't said no yet..." Mirage points out, emboldened by the lack of outright refusal.

Stepping closer still so they're mere inches apart, he levels his friend with a gaze of smouldering intent, laughter fading to a flirtatious smirk.

"Come now, we both know you enjoy my particular brand of...nuisance. And I do so want to help clean you up properly." His field pulses with suggestive magnetism as nimble digits reach out to gently brush over their exposed skin in a teasing caress.

"Unless...you'd really rather I leave you to your grimy predicament?" Mirage whispers huskily.

"Get me a towel, Raj, then I'll think about it," they state, standing there with a smile as they wait for him to grab a towel.

"As you wish." Mirage's engine rumbles with delighted intrigue as he accepts the challenge.

Whirling on his heelstrut with a flourish, Mirage makes his way towards the storage closet at a leisurely stroll. Rummaging briefly, he selects one of the largest, grease towels.

Returning to his still-grease-laden friend, Mirage holds out the towel with an elegant flourish and a sly smirk. "Well? Have I earned the privilege of assisting further?" he inquires softly,

"Say the word, and I'll gladly help..."

"Trying to get in my pants again?" They ask teasingly before leaning back into the bot's touch, letting mirage help clean up the mess. Mirage chuckles low in his throat at the playful accusation, a hint of arousal mixing in with their humour.

"Guilty as charged." He flashes a roguish grin, azure optics dancing with mischief and desire.

"Can you blame me, though?" Holding their teasing gaze, Mirage leans in to press a kiss to their cheek, his cooling ex-vents puffing against plating still warm from work. "How could I resist such beauty, even coated in oil?"

Knockout

Knockout smirked as he leaned against the medical table, crossing his arms over his chassis. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my favourite lovely little human in distress," he purred, his voice dripping with charm. " I'd ask what trouble you have gotten yourself into, but where's the fun in that? I'd much rather tease you a bit first."

He sauntered closer, his optics lingering "Now, how did this happen, darling? Neglecting proper care for these delicate human chest adornments? It's a shame, I happen to rather enjoy your little jewellery pieces" he chuckled, his tone laced with amusement.

They don't look impressed, looking away when knockout asks how it happened. "Went out on a mission ended up in mud and now they hurt '' they hiss under their breath. "Knockout please I just need some help. I'm not embarrassing myself by going to ask ratchet for help!" They hissed.

Knockout raised an optic ridge, slightly taken aback by the lack of enthusiasm from the human. He couldn't resist a chuckle at their stubbornness. "Oh, darling, you wound me," he replied, feigning a hurt expression. "But fear not, for I am here to help. No need to embarrass yourself."

They continue sitting there uncomfortably while knockout moves around grabbing what he needed. Knockout sets up a dish of salty water with a cloth. His optics flickered with focus as he set up the necessary supplies, preparing to tend to the infected piercings. He approached the human with a suave yet professional air, gesturing for them to remove their shirt so he could properly examine and treat the area.

"Now, now, don't be shy," he said smoothly, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "We've got to get a good look at those piercings if we want to fix them up, don't we?"

As the human complied, Knockout dipped the cloth into the dish of salty water, ensuring it was properly soaked. With a gentle touch, he began to clean the infected piercings, his movements precise and careful. "Try to relax," he advised with a soft, soothing tone. "I know it stings a bit, but trust me, you'll feel much better once we've taken care of this."

He continued to work, his optics focused on the task at hand, all the while maintaining a charming demeanour. Knockout couldn't help but let a small smile play on his lips as he worked his medic magic, determined to alleviate the human's discomfort and make them forget their initial reservations about seeking his help.

They sit there quietly avoiding knockouts gaze, as the medic continues cleaning the inflamed piercings. Knockout couldn't help but notice the human's avoidance of his gaze, their quietness speaking volumes. He continued to clean the inflamed piercings with utmost care, his touch gentle and precise. As he worked, he couldn't resist a small sigh, his usual charm momentarily fading.

"Look, I know I can come across a bit... overwhelming," he admitted, his voice softening. "But I want you to know that I genuinely care about your well-being. I may be a Decepticon, but that doesn't mean I can't be a good medic, and primus knows im not letting an infection get you my dear"

With a final, gentle touch, Knockout finished cleaning the piercings and set aside the cloth. He reached for the disinfectant and carefully applied it to the affected area, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Just a little more, and then we'll be done," he assured, his voice filled with sincerity. "You'll be feeling better in no time, I promise."

"Thanks and please don't tell everyone, don't need the whole base knowing about this" they state while motioning to the piercings.

Knockout flashed a charming smile as he applied the cream to alleviate the inflammation around the piercings. "Your secret is safe with me, my dear," he assured, his voice filled with sincerity. "As much as I enjoy a bit of gossip, I understand the importance of privacy, especially when it comes to matters like these."

He leaned in closer, his optics gleaming mischievously. "But remember, secrets have their price," he teased playfully. "Perhaps a dance or a playful conversation in the future can serve as payment for my discretion."

Straightening up, Knockout took a step back, admiring his handiwork. "There you go, all taken care of," he said, his tone gentle. "Just remember to keep an eye on them and follow the aftercare instructions I've given you. If there are any issues or if they don't improve, don't hesitate to come see me."

"I will thank you again, and I might give you that dance once they heal, but don't expect anything" they reply while pulling on their shirt again.

Knockout chuckled, his optics gleaming with amusement. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of expecting anything more than a dance, my dear," he replied with a sly smirk. "But who knows? Sometimes, unexpected connections can be quite delightful."

He watched as they pulled on their shirts, "When those piercings have fully healed, you know where to find me," he said, his voice filled with a mix of charm and sincerity. "I'd be more than happy to share a dance with you, no strings attached."

#transformers mirage #transformers #valveplug #rodimus #transformers rodimus #transformers knockout #transformers x reader #transformers x human #mirage #Knockout #mtmte #tfp #tf rotb #mirage x reader #knockout x reader #rodimus x reader #mtmte rodimus #rotb mirage #tfp knockout

215 notes · View notes

traumasurvivors · 4 months

Text

Here’s a link to a blog post on my personal website on a topic that I think is very important.

I’ve also put it below the read more for people that don’t like external links. But if you're okay with it, checking it out on my personal website is really nice (and even giving it a heart if you can)! I don't make money from my website, so there are no intrusive ads or anything like that to stop you from reading the article.

Embracing Your Inner Child

This applies to anyone, but I really want to emphasize this to my fellow survivors who went through trauma as children and/or teenagers.

I’m so sorry you lost part, most or all of your childhood. That doesn’t mean it’s too late to give your inner child what you can. This includes comfort but it also includes doing the things you didn’t get to if you can.

Play the fun games. Buy the tasty treats. Go on adventures.

It’s never too late to feel a little more of the kind of joy you had (or should have had) as a child. You may not be able to be a child again, but you can still help and support your inner child.

You might have been told that a fun idea you had was “silly” or even “stupid.” When you have those thoughts now, instead of rejecting it, embrace the “silly” idea and let yourself enjoy it. It’s not shameful or wrong to do the things your inner child wants to do. It’s okay to be “immature” sometimes, even if you’re twenty years old. Or thirty. Or sixty. I just want to say that I don’t think any of this is immature, but I know that is a bias and judgement a lot of us might pass on ourselves.

A short, not at all complete list of things you might do for your inner child:

Watch childhood movies or tv shows (Did you watch “Blues Clues”, or “Pokemon”? Maybe “The Land Before Time”? There’s no reason you can’t still enjoy them.)

Listen to “silly” music, maybe singing along or dancing to it (for me, one favourite is “I Just Can’t Wait To Be King” from The Lion King. I know every word and have a dance party everytime it comes on my shuffle.)

Go to the park and use the swings (I don’t know why, but flying up just a few feet can make me forget all my “grown-up” worries)

Have a treat just because (maybe that big sundae your parents never let you have, or the chicken nuggets you haven’t had in a decade). Maybe you want to fulfil your childhood dream of having ice cream for breakfast!

Go to the toy store - maybe even get some stuffed animals or other toy items. (I just recently realized that I can fulfill my childhood dream of collecting certain toys that I never got to have when I was younger!)

Ride a roller coaster and scream your head off on the way down (I like to try to be in the very first car)

Make creative, crafty stuff - like a painting or drawing, or decorating a picture on construction paper with googly eyes and glitter or a clay model with a weirdly shaped head (even if the result looks like something you’d expect to see in a kindergarten class, or the process makes a mess that looks like a glitter bomb went off)

Another aspect of embracing your inner child is trying to give your inner child the person you needed when you were a child.

This might mean standing up for yourself when others try to put you down or take credit for things you’ve done, even (or especially) if no one else spoke up for you when you were a child.

It might mean offering comfort and compassion to yourself, and not being too hard on yourself when you make mistakes that you would have been insulted for as a child or don’t know something that “everyone learns as a child.” Maybe now you can teach yourself that accidents happen, and spilling a drink or breaking a plate is not the disaster and failure of character that you were told as a child.

It might mean being patient with yourself when something is harder to do than you feel like it should be (whether you actually aren’t able to do it as easily as others, or you have unrealistic expectations of its difficulty because of the expectations put on you as a child). There are lots of instructional videos out there to help you to gain basic cooking or cleaning skills. If you never really learned to read, there are programs to help you. If you weren’t allowed or able to learn to manage your emotions or relationships in healthy ways, there’s help out there for you. There is absolutely no shame in not learning any kind of skills you feel you “should” have learned as a child, and it is okay to learn them as an adult.

You may have had to grow up too fast. You may not have been allowed to do the fun things. You may have suffered trauma that shattered your childhood. I’m here to tell you that you still have an inner child, and embracing that inner child is good for you. Just because you’re an adult, at any age, doesn’t mean that you’re too old to have fun.

No one else gets to decide what’s right for you - you get to decide what you enjoy and what you want.

And it’s never too late to remember, indulge, listen to, and embrace your inner child. Let them be a part of how you choose to move forward. It’s time for us to realize that there is no one way to be an adult, and we get to decide what being an adult means to us. And if that means I want to rent a bouncy castle for my birthday, then that is my perfectly valid version of an adult birthday (a birthday which my inner child would be thrilled about, by the way).

#my blog posts #embracing your inner child #my post

190 notes · View notes

its-elioo · 4 months

Text

A/n: Wanted to write a one-shot about one of Celine and Dogday's bonding moments.

Story occurs after he was saved and she put his body all back together.

Idk if Dogday is a little bit ooc here but I tried my best.

Probably missed some grammar mistakes.

Their relationship is completely platonic.

Slight mentions of trauma.

Hurt/comfort

Sun and cloud duo 🌤️

»»------------- ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ -------------««

While the girl placed several fluffy pillows and thick blankets on the floor, her most loyal and newest friend Dogday watched closely from behind in a kneeled position. In the meantime, Kissy Missy and Poppy scurried around the factory, searching for any additional soft materials to enhance their sleeping spot. As the human kept on making a giant comfortable bed, Dogday spoke out of the blue, “You know… I never really got your actual name, Angel.”

She smirked, “I thought the nickname you gave me was going to be my official one from now on.” Dogday glanced away in embarrassment and the female slightly patted his arm to reassure him, “Hey, it’s alright, I like it. It’s sweet.” she replied with a soft smile which caused the tall canine to turn his face towards her again, ears perking up by her gentle tone, “But to answer your question-“ she continued and kept on arranging the pillows, “It’s Ci, short for Celine.” he tilted his head at her in wonder as he listened, “I prefer the nickname more because it’s easier and sounds less formal but… It doesn’t matter to me what you decide to call me.”

The mascot dog stared at the ground for a minute, as if he was in deep thought, his tail wagged back and forth when he repeated her name in a whisper, “Celine…”

All of a sudden, he let out a low chuckle. The human rolled her eyes at him, “Oh, c’mon. It’s not that bad.”

“No, no…” the smiling critter replied, waving his paws, “It’s just- it makes so much sense now.”

Celine raised her eyebrow in confusion, “I don’t follow, big guy.”

“Heavenly.” he spoke, “That’s what it means…” the girl was looking at him in surprise due to the information she just received. She never realized the significance of her name until now. Dogday responded with a warmer voice, ”Guess you really are an Angel that has come from above to save us.”

She shook her head and her lips faintly curved up, “Nah, just a regular human. But thanks for the compliment.” when she made the final touches, she lifted herself and wiped her hands, “Alright, think it’s finally done. Care to try it out first?” she directed to the puddle of softness on the floor and the giant orange dog gladly accepted the offer. He made a big stretch and moved to it on all fours. As he observed it and walked in a circle, he finally settled down, “So? What do you think?” she asked out of curiosity.

“I must admit… it is very comfortable.” he replied softly and sighed, he definitely looked more relaxed, “Thank you, Angel. You didn’t have to.”

Celine shook her finger, “Ah, ah, ah. None of that.” she took one of the blankets, “You really thought I’m going to let you sleep on the cold ground? Not a chance.” afterwards, she put it on top of him and reached out a tentative hand to scratch him behind the ear, feeling the softness of his fur under her fingertips, “Take a rest, D.D. You need it.”

After being treated so cruelly by the feline he once called his best friend, he never expected someone to show him such kindness and compassion. He melted into her touch, feeling comforted and safe for the first time in a long while.

To Dogday’s surprise, his savior got up and headed towards the doorway, the canine immediately lifted his head and ears, “Wh-Where are you going?” he questioned apprehensively, near to the point of letting out his pleading whine for her to stay.

“I will keep on watch for Catnap.” she said and put her hand on the handle, but before she could open it-

“The whole time…?” he asked with a mix of confusion and desperation, grabbing her attention again. A wave of panic and loneliness washed over him. He wanted to run after her, to beg her not to leave him alone, a huge sense of abandonment weighed heavily on his heart, mind racing with doubts and fears. What if she didn't come back? What if something happened to her out there?

She shifted her gaze towards him, “Well, one of us has to stay alerted.” the poor dog stared at her with a pair of sorrowful pitch-black eyes, tail thumping against the tile floor, eagerly yearning for her attention with its mournful expression.

The smiling critter thought for a moment until an idea popped into his mind, “I-I can listen for him while we are both asleep.” he suggested timidly, hoping his offer would be considered.

Celine crossed her hands with a hint of skepticism evident on her face, “You can do that?”

“It’s a small ability we dogs have.” Dogday admitted sheepishly, “Don’t worry, I will wake you up the second I hear someone approaching. Besides, you need rest as much as I do.” his human companion hummed back and wondered about his proposal.

Muttering under her breath, she rubbed the back of her neck and glanced away, “It has been some time since I took a proper break…” a desire for relaxation and peace seemed to envelop her, the weight of exhaustion settling on her shoulders. After a few seconds, she sighed in defeat, “Okay then, I’m counting on you.” the canine’s tail began to sway in joyful anticipation, scooting away to give some space as she made her way over. Dogday laid his head on his big paws while watching with a tender gaze how she was getting comfortable closely beside him. Celine rested her head on one of the plush cushions and let out a weary exhale, “Can’t believe I fell for the puppy eyes again…” she playfully remarked and rubbed her temple, the large pooch chuckled slightly at her comment, “You wanted a cuddle buddy, didn’t you?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Maybe…” he murmured in embarrassment.

She laughed and gently caressed his paw, “Just don’t let me sleep for too long, okay?”

“Of course.” he responded with a gentle nod, his action a silent vow, “You have my word.” once affirming with sincerity, she nestled her face into the pillow and closed her eyes, embracing the familiar warmth and sweet vanilla scent emanating from the mascot's body.

As Dogday stared at her for a minute, protective instincts stirred deep within him. Very slowly and cautiously, he lifted one of his paws and wrapped it around her in a shielding gesture, “Sweet dreams, little Angel.” whether it was his imagination or not, he was the only one who could see the shimmering halo hovering above her head and the feathery white wings resting on her back.

A profound bond existed between them – he, her devoted guard dog, and she, his cherished angel, forever intertwined in a unique and heartfelt connection.

»»------------- ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ -------------««

#dogday #poppy playtime #poppy playtime dogday #poppy playtime oc #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime 3 #poppy playtime chapter 3 #oc #original character #oneshot #alternate universe #au #poppy playtime au

150 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 1 year

Text

i’ll keep you safe ~ newt;the maze runner

word count: 2498

request?: yes!

@jesylovesmusic “ Hey I know you're not talking request right now but I just had a question for if you would accept request for the maze runner when they're open again. Ive fallen down a hole”

description: when a new girl who knows more than the rest of the gladers is brought into their world, newt finds himself drawn to her, and a strong desire to make sure none of the others hurt her

pairing: newt x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of the world being awful outside the glade

masterlist (one, two, three)

The Gladers had hardly grasped the addition of Teresa into The Glade when The Box shuttered to life again, signifying that another was being added into their world. There had been so many surprises and uncertainties with their recent two additions - Thomas and Teresa - that the others were sure that nothing else could ever surprise them.

They were proven wrong when The Box delivered to them another girl.

This time, she was huddled into the far corner of the box, her knees brought up to her chest and her whole body trembling with fear. The Gladers looked down at her with yet another feeling of shock, something that had become normal for them at this rate. None of them knew what to do, so Newt took the lead and jumped into The Box to retrieve their newest member.

He was taken aback when her eyes widened with fear upon seeing him and she started to scream, “No! No, get away from me!”

“What’s wrong with her?” Minho asked.

“She’s scared,” Newt responded.

He dared to take another step forward, but she shrunk away from him the best she could, hiding her face behind her hands. Newt felt a pang of compassion for her. They had all been scared and confused when they entered The Glade. It was never easy, and it especially wasn’t easy to collect the newcomers when they arrived in this state.

Newt kept his distance, but knelt down so that he came eye level with the unknown girl. She peaked at him around her hands.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m just trying to help you. I know this is scary; you just arrived to a strange place and you don’t even know who you are - ”

“I know who I am,” she cut him off. “My name is (Y/N). They took me away from my parents. They took my parents and I don’t know what they did with them, but I don’t think they’re alive. They tried to inject me with something, but I fought back until finally they just knocked me out and threw me in here.”

Her eyes gazed up at the other boys who were now peering down at her. The terror returned to her face and she curled herself up tighter into her ball. Newt stood and turned to look at Alby. He knew by the look on his leader’s face that Alby had heard what this new girl had said.

Another strange thing to continue the string of surprises they had been going through: this new girl had memories of the outside world.

~~~~~~

After finally managing to get (Y/N) out of The Box (although not without a lot of screaming and a hearty fight), they put her up in a room alone. It was the only way they could get her to calm down. One of the Gladers would come by to give her food to make sure she wouldn’t starve, but she refused to face any of them. She stayed in the room until she knew they were gone, then she would take the food and leave anything to be collected outside the door by the time someone else came by.

She wouldn’t even open up for Teresa. The boys thought that maybe (Y/N) was afraid because she was one girl with a large number of boys, so maybe she would feel more comfortable if she was approached by another girl. However, when Teresa came back from giving (Y/N) her routine meal, she told them, “She definitely does not care about gender. She screamed at me as if I were one of you guys.”

On the day that Newt was tasked with bringing (Y/N) her food, he felt a bit more courageous than the others seemed to be. He wanted to know more about this new person; he wanted to know what exactly she knew about the outside world. Maybe she could tell him how they all got there. Maybe she’d know how to escape.

He approached her room with a tray of food and knocked at the door. Of course, there was no response. He placed the tray on the floor by the door and backed away two steps. He waited again, expecting to hear her shuffling around her room to come get the food. When she didn’t answer, Newt tried knocking again.

“I’m not going away until you come out,” he said. “You don’t have to be afraid of us. If anything, we should be afraid of you. You’re this strange new girl that’s been dropped into our world saying you actually remember what life is like outside The Glade. How do we know you haven’t been sent to hurt us?”

There was no response again. Newt sighed. Okay, maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

He pressed his back against the wall next to her door and slid down till he was sitting. He still couldn’t hear any movements inside the room. He wondered if she was even awake. It was only midday, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t trying to escape this situation some other way.

“Obviously, you’re not going to hurt us,” he said, hoping she was awake he wasn’t talking to himself. “If you were, you would’ve by now. You’re either genuinely scared, or you’re an incredibly good actor with much patience. I’m choosing to believe the former.”

He put his head back against the wall behind him. “You have to understand, you’re the first person to ever come here to remember life before The Glade. None of us remember how we got here. We just woke up in The Box while being transported in. We understand that, if someone took you the way you say they did, that you’re very scared, but we’re all very curious to see what you know. You might be our key to finding out how we got here and how we can get out.”

When no response came, Newt sighed and admitted defeat. There was no coaxing (Y/N) out of her room, and he wasn’t about to sit around so that she couldn’t get her food. He was pulling himself to a stand when he heard the doorknob slowly turn and the door creaked open just a crack. (Y/N) peered out at him through the door, her face a mixture of worry and sadness.

“You don’t want to leave here,” she said. It was the first time she had spoken since that day she arrived in The Box. “It’s...terrible out there.”

“What do you mean?” Newt asked.

(Y/N) opened the door a little more, just enough to poke her head out and see if there was anyone else with Newt. She knelt down to pick up her food and beaconed for him to come inside.

Besides the sheets on the bed having been messed a little, it looked as though the room was untouched. Not even the clothes that had been brought for her to change into had been touched, Newt noticed. It was like she had been spending all of her time in bed or pacing around the room. She didn’t want to be entertained, she wanted to be home.

She sat down on the bed and placed the tray in front of her. She ate slowly, her eyes never leaving Newt. He didn’t want to push his luck too much, so he opted to sit on the floor across from the bed. He waited until she felt ready to talk.

“The world is not...good,” she told him, finally, after what felt like hours of silence. “There aren’t many of us left out there, and the ones who are left...they’re not nice humans anymore. Not like in here.”

Newt pushed aside the thoughts of Gally and the way he treated Thomas and Teresa when they entered The Glade. Definitely not everyone in here was “good”.

“A virus took out a lot of the population, and those it didn’t take out have resorted to fighting for survival. My parents and I were fortunate enough to have hidden in a bunker full of survivalists who knew how to handle the situation, but even then we had out moments where things were looking dark. Honestly, I don’t think any of us expected to survive as long as we have. Others were lost much earlier on.”

“How did you get here then?” Newt asked.

(Y/N) sighed, looking down at her plate. “Our bunker was compromised. A couple scientists who said they’re trying to find a cure for the virus or something. They grabbed us, took us in for testing to see if he had been infected, then they put us up in some rooms in their labs. Next thing I knew, they were bursting into my room and dragging me off. My parents tried to stop them, but they were detained as I was taken. I have no idea what happened to them or if they’re even still alive, but I don’t have much hope for it. One of the scientists tried to explain to me what was going on, but I didn’t want to listen. I just wanted to get out. And then, suddenly, they just knocked me unconscious and threw me into that thing that brought me here. I woke up just before it opened up and you guys found me.”

“No wonder you were so scared then. You probably thought we were one of them.”

She nodded. “I thought you were going to kill me. I thought that they found traces of the virus in me and that’s how they dealt with people who were infected. I have no idea why I’m here, or what ‘here’ even is.”

Newt was also starting to wonder where “here” was. Was The Glade supposed to be a safe haven for those who hadn’t been infected by the virus in order to save them? If so, why wipe their memories before sending them in? Why not send in their families, too?

He always knew there was a world beyond The Glade, but he never could’ve imagined it was as awful as (Y/N) was saying. Newt always figured that maybe he and the other Gladers had done something bad and The Glade was their punishment. But maybe The Glade was a way to save the world once this virus was taken care of.

Newt was brought out of his thoughts by the sounds of whimpering. When he looked up, he saw tears running down (Y/N)’s cheeks and her body was trembling from silent sobs. Against his better judgement, he got up from the floor and rushed over to wrap his arms around her. To his surprise, she leaned into his embrace and buried her head into his chest. He could feel her tears dampening his shirt, but he could care less. He held her and allowed her to let out her emotions in a safe environment. She could finally let her guard down, even just for a second.

“I just miss my parents,” she sobbed. “It’s the not knowing that makes it so awful. I have no idea if they’re dead or alive, if they know where I am, if I’ll ever see them again. I’m all they had, and then those fuckers took me from them!”

“I know,” he said. “Until you know for sure, it may be best to think of them as still being alive.”

“How will I ever know for sure?” she asked. “I’m never getting out of here.”

“We’ll find a way. We’ve been trying for so long, and now we have you who actually knows about life outside The Glade. There’s a huge chance we could get out of here and find your parents.”

(Y/N) pulled away from Newt. Her eyes were swollen and puffy and her cheeks were tearstained. His heart ached for her. The Gladers always wished they knew where they came from or what their life was like before The Glade, but now Newt was realizing what a gift it was for them not to know those things.

“There’s bad people out there,” she said. “What if they try to kill us?”

“We’ll just have to prepare for that,” Newt said. “We can talk to Alby, that’s our leader, and tell him everything. He’ll come up with a plan.”

“What if your people don’t like what they hear?” she asked. “You’ve all been in here for how long? Dreaming of a life outside of this place, a world that’s beautiful and good. What happens if I tell them that the world is not beautiful and good and they decide they don’t believe me? What happens if the entire place turns on me except for you?”

It was a small thought in the back of his mind, but Newt refused to let it wiggle it’s way in. He took (Y/N)’s hands in his and squeezed them. “I would never let them hurt you.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah? You’re going to protect me? You don’t even know me. Those people down there have been with you for years, and you’re going to back up the crazy new girl who just arrived?”

Newt nodded, which seemed to surprise her.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I believe you,” he said. “I know it’s going to be hard to swallow the fact that the world outside of The Glade is not what we pictured it to be, but it’s something that we have to prepare for whether we believe you or not. And because...well, there’s just something about you. You interest me. I’ve actually been waiting very patiently for many days to be the one to bring you food so I could try and talk to you.”

It was Newt’s turn to be surprised when a small smile spread across her face. “You’re quite the charmer for someone who’s been stuck in here with a bunch of dudes for years.”

Newt chuckled. “Maybe my lack of practice helped.”

(Y/N) leaned into Newt again, which took him by surprise yet again. She guided the two of them down until they were both laying on the bed, her head against his chest and his arm around her. He could feel the tension leaving her body as she relaxed against him.

“I just need to lay here for a second,” she said. “And I don’t want to be alone. We can go down and talk to your people later, but I just need to build up the courage to do so.”

Newt nodded and ran his hands through her hair. “That’s fine. Take as much time as you need. I’ll stay here as long as you want.”

Her arm moved around his stomach and gave him a small squeeze. “That might be for a very long time. You never told me your name, by the way.”

“It’s Newt.”

“Newt. I want you to stay, Newt.”

#newt #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster x reader #the maze runner #the maze runner imagine #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

403 notes · View notes

irkimatsu · 23 days

Text

Sweet sweet angsty smut~

This is my third in a series of pieces about Husk being chained up and muzzled by Alastor as a punishment for... something. I've been vague about it, if we're being honest.

Part 1

Part 2

This piece is full on smut, with fem!Reader having sex with Husk while he's chained. Lots of angst; references to abuse, self-harm, substance abuse and withdrawal, all sorts of nasty stuff. But at least you get to comfort Husk through it in any way you can...

---

It’s been several weeks, and neither Husk nor Alastor are budging on their positions in whatever disagreement they’ve gotten into. Until someone gives in, Husk will remain here, leashed to his bed and muzzled, while you do all you can to make his isolation a little more comfortable.

Even with your best efforts, however, Husk’s deterioration has been steady. It’s hard for him to consume anything with the muzzle on, for one thing. You bring him food scraps and alcohol whenever you can, but it’s so hard for him to eat and drink with his mouth blocked like this, and in his weakened state he can only try for so long before his body gives up on the effort. At least he can splash some sink water into his mouth when you’re not there; Alastor gave his leash enough slack to let him use the bathroom, though that likely had less to do with compassion for Husk and more to do with not giving Niffty a disgusting mess to clean up. It’s difficult for him to do, but it’s one thing that saves him from feeling completely helpless. The alcohol and nicotine withdrawal hasn’t been easy on him, either; he’s still regularly self-harming to distract himself, clawing open new wounds over old scabs before they have a chance to heal. His fur is sparse and comes out in tufts when you touch it too much, and his wings and tail are only lined with a thin red fuzz rather than the handsome plumage you’d gotten used to on him. He’s never been a healthy weight due to him regularly replacing meals with alcohol, but he’s wasted away so much that you’re beginning to see the outlines of bones beneath his bare skin.

If he wasn’t already dead, you’d be terrified for his life.

Why is he being so stubborn about this? You’ve never seen him defying Alastor this intensely before. Sure, you’ve seen him talking back enough to receive a condescending scold; you’ve even caught Alastor striking him a few times when neither realized you could see, followed shortly by Husk going off to complete something particularly dangerous or demeaning. Husk had even told you about previous times when he’d been muzzled until the substance withdrawal had him begging his owner for mercy, willing to degrade himself however it took to receive just one bottle of precious, life-granting booze. But from what he’d said before, it usually took him days to break, not weeks.

He’s still not telling you what task he’s so desperate to avoid. “It’s better if you stay out of it,” he always says. It’s been a few days since you’ve asked about it, at his request; it was one of the only times he snapped at you while in this predicament.

“Fucking hell, I told you I don’t wanna talk about it! I spend enough fucking time thinking about it when I’m alone in here! Can’t you let me forget for a minute?!”

Despite your deep concern, you’ll grant his request; it’s part of the least you can do for him.

Neither of you have said a word since you arrived for that day’s visit. You brought him lunch, a bread roll and a miniature bottle of whiskey, and laid his head in your lap so you could feed him. He was able to finish the whiskey, and he weakly chewed some of the pieces of bread you broke off for him, but more than half of the roll sits on his bedside table for now as you gently stroke him between his ears, moving gently as to not dislodge what little fur he has left. His eyes are closed, and his breaths are heavy.

You know you need to stay strong for him, you can’t give him yet another thing to worry about, but it takes so much for you to not start sobbing at the sight of him like this.

“Hey… babe?” he asks, his eyes slowly creaking open, his voice hoarse from how little he’s been using it recently. “Could you do something for me…?” “Anything,” you promise as you continue petting him.

You can barely see his mouth behind his muzzle, but his slight smile is visible in his eyes. “I miss… making love with you.”

“Oh… oh, Husk…” That was the last request you expected when you offered him anything. “I miss it, too, but… not while you’re like this…”

“What? Am I not handsome enough for you anymore?” His eyes glimmer playfully as he speaks, somehow.

“You know it’s not that!” you insist. “I just don’t wanna overexert you. You’re having enough trouble eating.”

“Can’t I at least see you?” he asks. “It’s been way too long…”

Surely there’s no harm in that much? Besides, you do miss his skin against yours… “Of course.” You help him sit up and get settled across from you. He leans back on his hands, drooped ears and lidded eyes making him appear as if he’ll collapse any second, but his eyes stay glued to you for as long as you can.

You’re not exactly in the mood to give him a sexy display. You take off your clothes simply, as if you were only preparing to change them. Despite this, he’s still entranced, his breath growing more rapid as you expose more skin.

“Baby…” he breathes out as you throw your underwear aside and spread your legs, showing him the treasure he hasn’t seen for so long. “Can… can I…”

You nod without letting him finish, willing to accept any affection he can handle giving. He weakly leans forward until he flops down to the bed, his face settled perfectly between your legs.

“Fuck…” he whispers, before taking a deep breath and holding it for a moment. “I’m so thirsty, baby…” You can’t help but gasp as his cold nose rubs up your lips and settles against your clit. His nose may be cold against your skin, but it’s always so comforting, something living; it’s so different from the metal that’s now pressing between your legs, separating his mouth from what he so badly wants.

“I wish we could,” you tell him as you stroke between his ears again, warm breath exhaling from his nose and making you so needy. Normally you’d grab his fur and pull his face in closer, holding him in place while you grind yourself to an overstimulated mess against his hot, rough tongue… but you manage to catch yourself before you accidentally tear out even more of the weak fur that he can’t afford to lose.

An idea suddenly strikes you. “Back up a little?” you ask. Once he finally manages to peel himself off of you, you reach between your legs and sink a single finger into your opening. You gasp and buck at the sensation, teasing yourself as Husk enjoys the show. After you’ve sufficiently excited yourself, you pull your finger out, your slick now coating it, a string still connecting your fingertip to your entrance.

“Come here,” you say, holding your finger out to him. He catches on quickly. He moves closer to your hand and turns his head, allowing you to slip your finger through the side of the muzzle and into his mouth. He moans as he sucks your finger as best as he can from this angle, his tail waving as his teeth graze your skin. He doesn’t pull back until every drop of your cum on your finger has been replaced with his saliva.

“Delicious…” he moans, already drunker on you than he ever is on whiskey, as his tongue pokes out of the side of his mouth in a desperate search for more. Once he finally has to admit that there’s nothing more to be had, he climbs into your lap and buries his face in the side of your neck. His arms hold you tight and his knees squeeze your hips as he presses his muzzle into your skin; he’d be kissing you, at the very least, if there was any way for him to.. “Baby… want you bad, baby…” His words are slow and slurred, tinged with the emotions of a man who could start crying at any minute if he wasn’t so sick of it already. Yet, none of this is enough to drown out the pure need his voice always holds for you in moments like this.

“I want you too, Husk,” you say. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responds as he weakly pushes against your body. He’s in no state to pin and ravish you like he has so many times before; it’s up to you to hold him and pull him down with you as you lay back. He spends a few more moments nuzzling against your neck, so desperate to kiss you, before slowly pushing himself up with his paws and staring down at you.

He whispers your name so sweetly as his body sways.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine…” he says, still swaying. “I can…” He stops speaking to take a deep breath. “Please, just let me…”

“Don’t push yourself,” you urge him as you cup his cheeks, fingers threaded through the patchy fur.

“But I need this… please…”

“If you lay down, I’ll take care of you, okay?”

He nods slowly, and allows you to grab his hips and roll him over onto his back. Once he’s flat against the mattress, he spreads his nearly-bare wings out as he settles in, and looks up at you with eyes so tired, but so hungry. He’s still breathing heavily, as if just that much has him winded, but at least now you’re not worried about him falling and injuring himself further.

Looking at his body like this only emphasizes in your mind how much he does not need to injure himself further. He’s fully naked just like he has been on all of your previous visits, leaving no gash hidden from your worried eyes. Your eyes jump from gash to gash, allowing so much worry to build that you barely react when your eyes reach between his legs. You haven’t even been considering that sort of intimacy ever since this started, and this moment can’t get you to start thinking about it yet.

“Husk…” you whisper, trying your damnedest to stop any of your tears from dripping out onto his skin. You lower your face to his chest to kiss a particularly grisly wound; he groans in response. “Am I hurting you…?”

“No,” he says simply as he wraps his arms around you. “Keep going...”

You keep kissing him, showing every injury as much tenderness as your lips can give. The taste of his blood stings your tongue, reminding you further of the hell he’s been through, but you don’t let it stop you from showing the affection you have so many times before. As you kiss him, you trail your fingers over his concave stomach, lightly brushing his skin until your fingertips find his cock. Despite everything, he’s still able to stand at full attention, and he twitches the instant you touch him. You wrap your hand around him and gently squeeze, and he moans softly as his head tilts back, his hips so slightly jerking into your hand a couple times before giving up and lying still.

“Please,” he begs with a struggling exhale. “Please…”

Still stroking him, you move back up his body to press a series of kisses against his muzzle, continuing on no matter how much the cold steel tries to remind you how meaningless the gesture is. “Are you ready?” you ask.

“Please…” he repeats. “Please make love to me…”

You take your hand off his cock and brace yourself by placing both hands on either side of his head. “Anything for you, Husk…” You press one final kiss against his muzzle, letting it linger as you lower yourself onto his cock. You both share a moan, as close to each others’ mouths as you can both get, as you slowly sheath him inside you.

“God…” he murmurs as his claws lightly flex against your back. “I’ve missed you so fucking much…”

You slide up and down his cock, moving slowly and gently, trying so hard to not hurt him in his fragile state. His chain clatters against his headboard with every thrust, but you manage to block out the sound by focusing more on his breaths and moans. So many times before he’s had your brain screaming for you to take him fast and deep, to ride him rough like the wild animal he is… but that part of your mind is dead silent now.

He’s said it before. He’s not an animal, no matter what he looks like now or how Alastor treats him. And you’re determined to reassure him of that by letting him indulge in emotions and desires that are so deeply human.

You lay your body over him and gently curl your hands around the backs of his ears. “Is this okay?” you ask him.

He nods with a small grunt.

“Tell me if it hurts,” you say. “I don’t want to push you too far.”

Another grunt is all you get out of him before you resume moving, your chests sliding together as you rock back and forth. You wonder if this is bothering his wounds, but he’s not saying anything or making any noises to indicate anything like that. As you ride him, you kiss his forehead and cheeks, letting what’s still exposed of his face feel how much you adore him. He grips your hips and starts thrusting up to meet you, but after a few movements, he groans in pain and lets his waist collapse back onto the bed.

“...sorry…” he murmurs.

“You’re okay,” you assure him with another kiss to his forehead. They’re the last words you say for a while; all your focus now is on how you’re moving, making sure this is everything he needs it to be. Tonight, your pleasure is secondary. Both of you remain mostly quiet throughout the act. Not only is this not something that inspires the sorts of screams and filthy talk you love so much with him, but you absolutely cannot let Alastor hear an instant of this. You don’t even want to imagine what he’d do if he knew Husk wasn’t suffering his punishment, if only for a brief moment.

He still feels as amazing as ever inside you, his barbs greedily pulling at your tender walls with every upward thrust of your hips. And yet, you can’t focus on it as you usually do. His girth stretching you out, his throbs when you move at just the right angle, his tip finding your sweet spot and purposefully hammering it until you can no longer see or speak… none of it matters right now. All that matters are his eyes on you, brimming with gratitude and love.

You kiss away a tear before it can roll too far down his cheek.

“I’m getting close…” he whispers, his eyes not leaving you. In most circumstances, your current speed wouldn’t be enough. Hell, you’ve gone this slow to purposely tease him before, edging him on until he finally rolls you over and takes what he craves.

Given the circumstances, though, you can understand why it doesn’t take much this time.

“Go on,” you say, encouraging him with a small smile. “I know you need this.”

He smiles back before a shudder rolls through his body, sending his head rolling back again with another quiet moan. He pulls your hips down flush with his and holds you in place as he grinds up into you.

“Oh god-” He moans your name in between his pleas to the being that abandoned him so much. Soon it’s only your name that he’s saying, each repetition coming out with more urgent need.

You kiss his muzzle one last time, and his heavy breaths brush past your cheeks as he climaxes inside you. You don’t stop kissing him until you’re sure he’s done, determined to see the gesture through no matter how futile it is. He finishes and softens inside you, but doesn’t pull out right away as he struggles to catch his breath.

You’ll let him stay inside you as long as he wants. He deserves it.

“Lay next to me?” he finally asks. You sit up, hoping that your weight over him hasn’t caused him any further distress, and lift your waist off of him. He rolls over on his side, shifting his wings to a more comfortable position as he moves, and once he’s done moving, you settle into his arms. He nuzzles the top of his head under your chin and purrs weakly as he hugs you close. “Thank you…” he murmurs through his purrs.

It abruptly occurs to you that this is by far the longest time you’ve spent in his room over these past few weeks. “Husk? I’ve been in here for a while… should I le-”

“No,” he snaps as he squeezes you more tightly. “Don’t you dare leave…”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble with-”

“Get me in trouble. I don’t fucking care anymore.” His tail lashes as he speaks, not even weakness preventing his feline body from expressing its anger. “He can do whatever the fuck he wants. I’m still not letting you go.” His tail finally calms down as he settles against your body. “I don’t care if he kills me… as long as you’re with me… I won’t let him touch you, I’ll take the blame, I promise…”

No matter how afraid you are for him, you just can’t say no to his pleas. His first act of intimacy with you in weeks, and you were about to leave him in the lurch immediately after? What kind of monster would you be in that case? You already knew that he hates being left alone immediately after sex under the best of circumstances. Leaving him in a state like this could very well kill him via heartbreak.

Instead, you settle yourself into his embrace. His wing may not be able to keep you as warm as it usually does as he drapes it over your body, but you still feel so safe in its embrace.

You’ll do anything to make him feel just as safe.

“I love you,” you whisper, as you try your hardest not to think of this as the last time you ever get to hold him.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk huskposts #substance abuse #self harm #abuse #substance withdrawal

34 notes · View notes

choicesficwriterscreations · 6 months

Text

December MC of the Month: Luca O'Rinn

Please welcome December 2023's MC of the month! Each month, we will highlight one MC or OC that is currently on our Meet My MC / OC List. The MC / OC is selected randomly on the Wheel of Names, and eligibility requirements can be found here. We accept MC / OC profiles on an ongoing basis. Please feel free to send yours in!

This month’s MC of the month is…

@aria-ashryver 's Luca O'Rinn

More below...

In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC / OC.

This little idiot just doesn’t stop. They are so damn resilient! I love their bravery, compassion and that Luca takes the time to make sure the people around him feel seen, heard and understood. Communication is important to him — he’s a little tactless or graceless with it sometimes, but he tries so hard to make sure the people he loves know it. I love how talented and inquisitive he is, and that he has such a strong sense of self — Luca just feels so bright to me, so vibrant and joyous. “Lightbringer” was an accidental name meaning, I just picked “Luca” at random when creating my MC because it felt right, but it really was the perfect choice for them!

2. Do you feel your MC / OC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

Luca is much more impulsive than I am, and has a bigger social battery, but I think we are both the kind of people friends come to for advice and comfort. We are both musically inclined, both love hugs (probably more in my case), animals, and the beauty and magic of the natural world. I’m 6ft tall, Luca is tiny. Luca’s heritage is a nod to my own Scottish roots — my grandparents / great-grandparents emigrated from Scotland, and I’m lamenting the slow death of any Scottish cultural influence in my family’s day-to-day life as the generations pass. There are parts of me in Luca, sure, but ultimately they are very much their own person.

3. What is most important to your MC / OC? What is their motivation in life?

Authenticity, truth, and (this one might sound weird, but) movement. Luca will never be someone he’s not. For him, to live is to grow, to always seek out opportunities to find out more about himself and the world he lives in.

They can’t stand being stagnant and idle, both mentally and physically; Luca is a dancer with a truly avid curiosity, so they just need to keep moving, no matter what they are doing. Right now for Luca, that means having intense, emotional conversations; breathing love into the world; learning new skills; knuckling down on language studies; uncovering vampire lore; fighting to protect the ones he loves; doing a lot of introspective thought and trying to be a better version of himself with every day that passes.

4. What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes?

Luca has a strong sense of social justice, so there are plenty of things that annoy them —particularly in regard to the treatment of other people; they’ll be the first to jump to someone’s defense— but in terms of more minor pet peeves, pertaining to him personally? Being called “bro” / “man” / “dude” by someone who obviously means it in a cisheteronormative way (and people who blatantly ignore the “they�� aspect of their pronouns). Luca definitely picks their battles, and they are totally fine with being called any of those names by friends and family, but it often elicits an eyeroll coming from closed-minded and/or queerphobic people.

Also, early mornings. Luca is firmly of the opinion that mornings should be banned. No more mornings. The day doesn’t exist before 10am. He will never understand how Gabriel keeps getting up at dawn to go for a run. On purpose. That’s just wild.

5. If your MC / OC could change one thing - anything - what would it be?

Luca hasn’t had the easiest life, but it was one that led them to find Cas and Gabe. They would go through it all again and then some if it meant a life of loving those two and being loved by them in turn… but Luca sees how much Cas and Gabriel are hurting, too. How much they ache for a place of belonging. How deeply lonely they have been.

If Luca could change one thing, it would be for them, not himself. He’d bring back their parents. Choi Harin. Sofia Adalhard. Remiel Adalhard. He’d bring back Gabriel’s sisters, Raquel and Michaela. His grandmother, Sarah. His cousin, Joaquin. Cas’s halmeoni, Choi Miyoung. His harabeoji, Choi Yongho. Cas’s best friend, Ricky Harlow.

If Luca could steal them even a moment with the people they have lost, then he’d do it in a heartbeat. He knows it's an impossible dream, but that won’t stop him from making sure that, at the very least, Cas and Gabriel know they will always, always be a part of his family. That the O’Rinns will always be there to welcome them with open arms.

6. What is your MC / OC’s favorite quote or song?

Luca’s favourite song changes with the wind, but at the moment they are making good use of Hozier’s “De Selby (Pt1)” to practice their (rusty) skills on acoustic guitar, as well as their pronunciation of Irish Gaelic (which they’d like to be fluent in — Scottish Gaelic and Irish Gaelic share a root language, so they are very similar in many ways. Think Spanish to Portuguese!) Luca has a firm grasp of Gàidhlig, but the only fluent Irish-speaker in the family is their great aunt Morag. Given the O’Rinn’s ancestral ties to Ireland, Luca aims to fix that!

He’s also currently messing around with some original contemporary choreo to Lee Taemin’s “Just Me and You” and “Guilty”.

7. Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC / OC?

Luca has come to mean so much to me. I never intended to write about them when I first started reading ID —I had never written fanfic at all!— but the more I learned about them and fleshed out their backstory, the more I knew I had a story to tell. Rather than write a simple, short piece, fool that I am, I decided to dive right into a (currently) 250K+ word longfic centring on not one, but four romantic relationships (Luca x Cas; Luca x Gabriel; Cas x Gabriel; and the dynamic of the poly ship between all three of them).

Despite being a retelling, I think “Starlight” gets a lot thematically heavier than Immortal Desires ever did, with a broader focus on worldbuilding and characterisation, and the experience of writing it has been so rewarding — I think in large part because of Luca.

I just adore them. So much. And I’m grateful to have them along for the ride while we find our way through this story together. There is no one else I’d rather have along for the ride. (Also, I’m sorry I make you suffer so much, sweet Luca. I promise your happily ever after will be worth every hardship 💖)

Thank you so so so much to CFWC for letting me gush about Luca!! If you would like to know more about them, you can read about them in my longfic, “Snow In Crimson, Starlight in Gold” on AO3, or find more on my masterlist.

#cfwc mc of the month #immortal desires #aria-ashryver #luca o'rinn #meet my mc #choices fic writers creations #playchoices #choices the stories you play #december mc of the month

70 notes · View notes

turbulentscrawl · 7 months

Text

Identity(V) Headcanons: Naib Subedar

yall know the drill ;) If you like how I write the characters, consider sending me a request or matchup!

I also don't really have the patience to sit on my posts for a few days and check for mistakes, so forgive my typos hahah

-Naib got into his line of work out of necessity, not desire. He has never enjoyed taking lives…but he is both very good at it and very professional about it. He’s survived so long, in part, by being good at compartmentalizing his emotions. Work is work, and life outside is not, and he’s somehow managed to separate the two without separating his mental state. Nevertheless, he’s a very different person when he’s on the job and he would prefer that his loved ones didn’t see that.

-Outside of work, Naib shares Norton’s sentiments of all life being created equal. Unlike Norton, however, he uses this as a motivation to protect people rather than concern himself with revenge. That’s not to say he won’t step in if someone is out of line, but he is primarily focused on contributing good to the world in his free time.

-That said, Naib’s moral compass has become a bit warped over the years. He does his best to be a good person, but at a certain point someone can have so much blood on them that it starts to color their vision. The opposite of rose-colored glasses, if you will. He is, however, an accurate and consistent judge of character, so he often thinks about his course-of-actions in the frame of ‘would my mother be proud of me for this?’ That helps a lot with any difficult decisions.

-Naib “gets along” with most people. Being rough around the edges as he is sometimes makes it difficult for people to tell where they stand with him, but in truth he’s very vocal when he doesn’t like someone. It generally takes someone intentionally and repeatedly antagonizing him before he starts to develop a negative opinion. Otherwise, he maintains politeness.

-He is very slow to let people in, however. Naib’s life is dangerous and fleeting, so even when he likes someone he’s hesitant to get close to them. Outside of the manor, he’s a genuine slow-burn sort. A real “we’ve known one another for years and I’ve liked you for almost as long but I wont let myself have you until it’s entirely too much to take and I initiate an explosive night of passion” sort. Inside the manor, though, I think it’s more of a “we take comfort where we can get it, and then it slowly becomes real” sort of thing.

-Used to being the man of the house, Naib has a habit of trying to speak on behalf of or otherwise handle people’s problems for them. Again, he’s a good judge of character, so he’s pretty accurate in gauging how people would want situations handled…but this can still cause tension with friends and partners who are more independent. And if you talk to him about wanting to handle something yourself? There’s a non-zero chance he’ll go behind your back and take care of it anyway.

-The best love languages for Naib are Gift Giving and Words of Affirmation! He likes receiving thoughtful gifts—specifically ones that help in his everyday life, or resolve an issue he’s having. (Even if that issue is just “I’m hungry” and you pick up some of his favorite snacks.) He also likes little trinkets that he can easily carry around to remind him of the giver when he travels. Naib also tends to give kind words the benefit of the doubt, so he accepts verbal affection without argument or doubt. Everything he does is for his loved ones, and he likes to know that he’s appreciated, loved, and missed when he’s gone. Letters are amazing too; he keeps every letter and picture he receives and treats them with as much care as possible.

-Naib could not be close with someone who has a problem with his work. He understands why they would, he himself is rather tired of it.... But he’s been doing this for too long and is in too deep to leave. He and his mother cannot afford for him to quit being a mercenary and take the time to try learning some other skill that may or may not keep food on the table as consistently. You don’t have to like his work, but it can’t be something you hound him about. If you don’t talk about it, neither will he, and you can both just pretend it doesn’t happen.

-He’s a walking garbage can. I mean it, he can and will eat anything provided to him. He has preferences of course, but after years of food insecurity and then subsequent years of service-provided meals, he’s learned to not be picky. He also never outgrew the habit of rationing and hiding food in case of emergencies, and is an avid believer in the 5-second rule because he dislikes wasting food.

-Because he eats so much--and in spite of having irregular sleep patterns—Naib always has a lot of energy. This is useful for work and matches but also shows itself in other ways…such as being a very animated conversationalist. (per the stageplay lol) It’s only obvious when he’s moderately comfortable, but Naib might legitimately be incapable of sitting still when he’s not on guard.

-He’s pretty bad at making jokes. His sense of humor came from his years in the service, surrounded by brothers-in-arms. As a result, his idea of good-natured joking is completely ragging on people. Norton is the main person in the manor who gets this, but it leaves most other people to wonder if they’re actually friends or if they hate one another.

#idv x reader #identity v #naib subedar #idv mercenary #naib subedar x reader #turbulentscrawl #identity v x reader

92 notes · View notes

flightfoot · 14 days

Note

Ur a pretty fair voice in my opinion when it comes to the whole mess in miraculous. Would you mind telling me what your favorite things are about Marinettes appreciation of Chat Noir in Canon? Not fanon, CANON.

I'm still grieving LadyNoir and recently I'm feelin very down in life in general and now I don't have my comfort show and ship anymore the way I used to love them for.

The way Marinette treats Chat Noir in and outta her transformation never stops hurting my poor broken LadyNoir heart n as much as I wished I could love the potential of her love for him as I once did, it just feels so paper thin and shallow to me now after everythin this show did.

The show is clearly trying to have her feelings for him be smth now, but for me it never seems to go beyond her infamous vague heart eyes the show likes to hav her throw around for damage control & surface level appreciation of his presence when she has to. But if you'd tell me that she still has no real feelings for him, I would believe u, cause he as a person doesn't truly matter at any given moment her words have to MEAN something more than a vague "<3" she's never asked to back up with anything worthwhile (srry, I know you've heard that complaint a million times before. It's at least comforting to know that others feel the same)

Wasn even her taking any interest in Chat for his person in the first quarter of season 5 only caused by Marinette wantin to proof Alya wrong and that her love for him instead of Adrien is real and valid? That's so disheartening...

Going through the tags isnt helping either, cuz most i find it is either much more fanon than Canon, or it's in line with Chat prrty much being her servant now instead of her finally giving care back

Idk, I hope I'm not bein too much of a downer. So imma get back to my question now. Maybe u can help me see Canon in better light again.

Could you tell me what you like most bout Marinettes and Ladybug's connection with Chat Noir? Things she does for him, what she values in him and so on and so forth?

I like the times we see her getting upset when Chat's hurt, or when she comforts him when he's clearly not feeling good. I adored how angry and upset she got in Timebreaker when Chat was "killed" in front of her for the first time, how she suddenly became more vicious. She doesn't want to lose him.

Or like, for times when she's comforted Chat, I adore how calmly and patiently she spoke to Chat in Reverser, after his courage was taken away, how she gently coaxed him where he needed to go. I took great solace in that, the first time I rewatched that episode, since I'd been exposed to a lot of Saltinette at the time, and I needed the reminder that Marinette does, in fact, care about people, even when it's inconvenient.

While I wish that Marinette had really thought through Chat's potential reaction to someone new showing up with her Miraculous without warning, I DID love that Marinette had this long list of protips. I especially liked this one:

Marinette: (v.o) Protip 33: When Cat Noir tells a joke, try to laugh at it even if it isn't funny. It makes him happy.

Even in episodes where I have a problem with the way Marinette conceives of Chat Noir, I generally still like elements of it. Like even in Ephemeral, while I think it was very, very wrong for her to try to trick Chat the way she did, she WAS doing it because she didn't want to risk Su-Han taking Chat's Miraculous from him. Or in Kuro Neko, when she didn't want to give the miraculous back to Plagg to give to Chat Noir, because she was afraid they'd end up back in this same situation, and she didn't want to keep hurting him.

At her core, Marinette cares about Chat's feelings and wants him to feel good, to be happy. The issue comes from her not seeing things from his perspective, from being terrible at reading him. Marinette has a lot of compassion towards Chat Noir, she just doesn't understand him.

#ask #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml analysis #miraculous ladybug

20 notes · View notes

danieyells · 6 days

Note

I feel like bc vagastorm is mostly male (usually it's pretty even when we see female and male NPC but vagastorm we see like 4 male designs and just 1 in hotarubi or I just remember her hahahs) and he went to juvenile, Alan is accidentally sexist in the benevolent sexism way if you know what I mean?

Like it can be as small as giving the MC the last canned coffee or his jacket when it's cold to refusing to think the MC did something bad on purpose bc he believes they have a better moral compass, to even ban them from the pit bc they "shouldn't be around so much violence" and leave that to boys to fight while you read or something.

Yeah, I agree there are probably a lot more men there, or at least not a lot of feminine people. Leo is legit probably one of the most feminine people there lol

But yeah I think Alan would definitely lean into an almost 'chivalrous' set of behavior with girls, or at least with girls from outside of Vagastrom and the MC especially. He doesn't realize he's being sexist in any way, he's just trying to be helpful and do what he's been taught is the right thing, but he'll definitely treat mc a little differently than other people.

According to Leo he walks around in winter with short sleeves so he probably doesn't usually have a coat to share if it's cold but when he does he'll absolutely drape his coat over the mc if she seems cold while they're out, maybe gently chide her for not dressing warmer. Doesn't understand why he likes the sight of her in his jacket so much. He does tell the pc not to come to the Pit in the game, though! I think, as time goes on and he starts to trust her, he'd be okay with her spending more time there, but he'd assign someone to make sure nothing happens to her with all the rowdy guys around. Or he wouldn't fight/train and just be her bodyguard if she really wants/needs to be in there.

But yeah he definitely like. Tries to open doors for her or keep her out of danger and discourage her from dirty places and gets mad when men are rude to her. Always asks if she'd prefer to hang out somewhere else instead of sitting around in the garage with him, but he's never really sure where to take her. But I also feel like he's not offended or bothered or upset if she's like 'you don't have to do that' or 'i don't really like when you do that' or what have you--maybe a little surprised and embarrassed that he was doing something wrong all this time. And she has to explain no it's not wrong just, y'know, she doesn't wanna be treated differently for being a girl. Maybe she's not very strong but she's fine with getting her hands dirty or being in dangerous places if she's got backup. Yeah those are nice gestures but. . .not if it's because she's a girl, y'know?

On the other hand the mc is the usual type where she's very much just there as a view into the story and she just rolls with what comes her way--and compared to some people on campus I think Alan's Benevolent Sexism would be a breath of fresh air lmao better than everyone else who makes her do their bidding! Especially when he starts to feel comfortable around her and instead of pushing her away while he does something he thinks she shouldn't do or wouldn't want to do is like "sit here and wait for me" and he like. Brings her something to drink or apologizes for not having something to do while she waits.

(lmao now i'm imagining the pc asking him what he's doing to a car and he's like 'stay back, you'll get dirty. I don't think you'd be interested?' and she's like 'honestly i like cars i'm really curious about all the anomalous vehicles' and he pauses then he starts explaining and showing what he's doing. And over the next few days they all notice he seems a little down and finally pc asks what's wrong, he's been acting a little upset since that day and he just

Gets embarrassed and apologizes

And admits he was thinking he might have feelings for her but when she said she was interested in cars he realized she liked girls and it got him kind of down but he'd get over it and liked having her around as a friend anyway and he didn't wanna overstep by saying something

And she is BEFUDDLED AND CONFUSED and leo from wherever he's hanging out or eavesdropping just cracks tf up

And they have to explain to him that girls having "masculine" interests does not make them lesbians oh my god alan even if she does like girls it's not necessarily exclusively

And that ends up being the very awkward story of them deciding to go out, just alan being completely blockheaded)

#alan mido #danie yells at tokyo debunker #danie yells answers #danie yells with anons

19 notes · View notes

rineedagger · 2 months

Text

Some things I've learned this pasts twenty six years

Do NOT alter your form and size to fit into somebody's ribcage. Authenticity is the ground for a healthy environment.

Authenticity can't exist without self-criticism and sticking to your core values.

A peaceful solitude is just as important as a nutritious companionship.

We aren't born knowing, not even of our own self. Wisdom is the fruit of life-long learning, therefore, making mistakes is the key to be and do better (this reminds me of the famously quote "Do not be sorry, be better" from Kratos lol).

Doubting, asking questions, is the concrete to build a fulfilling life.

Remaining the same does not imply to be more stable nor having a healthier life.

Easy and good are not synonyms.

Enough with the label bullshit and the blaming. It isn't about been or not been normal/right, your life/truth is yours only. Do not try to make sense of it using somebody else's eyes.

Medical checking is important. Nobody likes going to the doctor nor feeling sick (and yes, I am talking about going to the therapist and psychiatrist as well). It is part of been human and you will never be alone in the process.

Cooking life actively and over a low heat, is vital to have an appetizing full of flavour meal.

I'm never going to feel ready nor good enough.

Life isn't right nor makes sense. Do not try looking for the missing leg, you'll lose yourself in the process.

Communication is important, but not all communication matters. It has to be direct, understandable and, overall, precised. Overcommunication is as bad as the total absence of it, if not more painful.

Accepting and respecting are not the same thing. One is mandatory while the other, even important, isn't indispensable.

In order to live and not survive, you have to accept your own vulnerability and fragility.

Drinking water is always the good choice.

There will never be enough strawberries to satisfy the craving.

Whoever loves you today may not love you tomorrow, and that's okay.

There isn't such thing as good and bad emotions, rather comfortable and uncomfortable ones. And we must feel them all.

Setting boundaries with yourself and your surrounding is vital to be certain that, whoever remains by your side, is because they actively want you and love you, since there are parts of your self that are not negotiable. If not, you will always be the coach, the therapist, the mother, the sister, the helper, the clown, the mad one, the weirdo, the mysterious one, the thug, the whore, etc., but never you. Consequently, these means an assured expiry date plus food poisoning (I don't know why I'm comparing so much with food...maybe it's because I didn't eat strawberries for a while).

Social media has become a demanding, violent and sick place, filled with expectations, constant stimulation, manipulated or sensational information, rule-following, triggers, distortions and the possibility of been reachable to people that you don't need in your life. It is okay if you can't live in it. Also, if you're the reactive kind, set boundaries immediately with how you manage your social media and your exposure and be firm with it (believe me, I couldn't stand seen someone hating my friend on social media and saying lie after lie after lie...it was REALLY consuming and it leaded to impulsive and shameful acts).

If you are the one that overthinks or re-read texts after a fight, delete them.

Having life-long or very long friendships does not mean that you should cope with every mistreatment.

Do not remain by somebody else's side only because you pity them. Pityness and no compassion is vile.

The same with egotistical interests. The other person is a whole living being aside of yourself, if you put your own interests and greeds as the motivation of that relationship or over it, is vile.

The world is not trying to punish you for any mistake you've done nor for any joy you've experienced. That is, indeed, the process of living.

Boredom is a freaking gift, and a pleasure indeed.

23 notes · View notes

testingthewatersss · 6 months

Text

I never lost him Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, etc. Just unapologetic cuddling and comfort ft. Steve Rodgers. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 8 2560 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI Post TWS Steve realises that he's not the only one looking for Sargent Barnes. Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced.

“That went great” Y/N says instantly, "Well done, Buck"

The praise washes over him like water, soothing the frayed edges of his soul like a balm.

He relishes in the soft swell of affection for a moment, nuzzling down into her embrace until he feels like he might be able to speak without his voice cracking;

“‘days not over yet, doll” he murmurs eventually, “’s only the afternoon— still plenty of time for me to ruin’ it”

“Don’t be ridiculous” she counters, “You’re here, with me— there’s no way you could ruin anything.”

He scoffs, holding onto her a little bit tighter.

Y/N can feel the way he’s clinging onto her waist with both of his hands, clutching onto her t-shirt like a child who’s afraid of being abandoned.

Her heart is aching, behind her ribs. He’s clearly trying to catch up with the reality of everything that’s just transpired, and she doesn’t really know if she can do anything to help.

Holding him seems to be doing something, at least.

So, she decides to just keep doing that, stroking circles across the back of his ribs.

“I can’t believe he went to the deli dressed like that” she murmurs, “I bet it makes the news.”

He smiles a little at that, small and hidden against her shoulder.

“He… he wasn’t wearin’ his dog tag”

That hurts.

It hurts more than she’d have expected it too.

“I asked him where it was” she tells him, “He says he lost it, y’know? In the ice”

That sounds reasonable, he’d been prepared for a similar answer, but, she doesn’t sound sure. There’s something about her tone, that makes him furrow his brow;

“You don’t think he did?”

“I might be wrong” she sighs, “but, I could’ve sworn I saw it in one of Peg’s old boxes”

It’s why I recognised yours so quickly, she thinks.

“If… If it was in Peggy’s stuff, maybe he did lose it, but she, she found it?”

“Maybe” Y/N agrees, “Or maybe I never saw it at all”

‘Excuse me, boss’ FRIDAY inserts politely, ‘But Bucky is right, I can confirm that when Captain Rodgers was first brought to SHEILD headquarters he was booked in, and his dog tag was noted along with his compass and original suit in the documentation regarding his personal belongings.’

That catches her attention, she tilts her head and hums,

“Was… was he awake when you brought him here?”

‘No’ FRIDAY replies, ‘He remained frozen until our medical officers felt confident in their ability to bring him round without complication’

“But he had it on him when he arrived?” Y/N cuts in, wanting to clarify, “Do you have any record about where it went?”

‘Yes, boss.’ the AI agrees, ‘And whilst there is no official mention of the article after that initial reference, I can use the archived security footage to speculate that Agent Carter may have retrieved it from him during one of her regular visits.’

Oh—

“Well there we go…” Y/N murmurs, stroking Bucky’s back again, “…mystery solved.”

“She…” Bucky says, clearing his throat, “… Y’think she took it?”

“Probably” she sighs, “she loved him, it’s not a stretch to think she’d want to try and keep a piece of him close, ‘specially… ‘specially when she realised that he probably wouldn’t be wakin’ up any time soon.”

Bucky thinks that’s awfully sad.

Sometimes he forgets how unfair fate was to Steve. He forgets that it wasn’t just him who lost everything in ice.

“I think we should get it back to him, don’t you?”

Y/N’s voice makes his head lift up, away from the crook of neck.

He’s starring at her, trying to read wether or not she’s being serious.

“You… you think we can?”

“Of course we can” she chuckles, stroking his cheek, “Baby, if Peggy kept it then it’s here— After she died a lot of her stuff was archived, y’know, for security— Tony and Sharon agreed that the tower was the best place for her personal belongings, since it’s real easy to protect, and, if I saw it before got scooped up, then I’d wager it’s still exactly where it was back then.”

“So” he murmurs, “We… We really could get it for him?”

“Sure” she says, “We can go grab it ourselves, or I can ask Tony or Nat to go and find it?”

His face shifts into something terribly conflicted. For a moment, she thinks that he might speak, but instead, he just ducks his head back down into her shoulder, burying his face against her like hiding might erase the burn of shame he’s experiencing because he just can’t volunteer himself to go and retrieve it himself.

It doesn’t.

Her arms wrapping back around across his body helps though.

So does the way she presses her lips against the top of his head, hushing him before she says,

“FRIDAY, can you message Natasha discretely for me? Do it in Russian so she knows it’s private— ask her to go down to the archives and use my override to get into the safe in room 12, tell her that I think the tag is somewhere between boxes 1-8 under one of Peg’s old dresses. When she’s got it, ask her to bring it up here, don’t let Rodgers see.”

‘Yes, boss’

“I- I’m sorry” she hears Bucky whisper, voice melting against her throat, “I just can’t-“

“It’s okay” she soothes, “Baby, it’s fine, Nat loves snoopin’ around down there, she’ll get it for us, and then you can double check, make sure it’s right before you give it to him.”

“Before-“ he gulps, “before I give it to him?”

“well, yeah” she says, smiling, “Sweetheart, unless you don’t want too?”

“I- I do” he blurts out urgently, “I-I just, thought maybe you-”

“No, baby” she murmurs, “I think it’ll mean more if it’s you.”

‘Ms Romanoff is on her way to the archives now, Boss— she asked me pass on a message to Bucky on her behalf’

“Oh?” Y/N scoffs, pressing another kiss against his head, “What message would that be?”

‘Dobro pozhalovat' domoy, serzhant’

Welcome Home, Sergeant.

That makes a smile bloom across her face.

The recorded greeting being laced with a genuine tone of kindness is enough to make her affection towards her old friend swell in her chest.

“She… Is, is that her voice?”

‘Yes, Bucky- I can relay messages to anybody you like.’

“Could you reply for me? could… could you tell her ‘Thank you, and I- I’m sorry, for— for fightin’ you, and for- for shootin’ you back… back in Japan.”

“Sure I will.”

“Sweetheart” Y/N says, “you know she’s not angry, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter” he counters weakly, “It doesn’t matter if she’s angry, doll, I— I’m still sorry.”

The silence that follows doesn’t last long, but it’s still long enough for his words to make Y/N’s chest ache again.

“C’mere” she purrs, settling herself back against the arm of the couch, guiding him up, so he’s back in position between her thighs, “Grab that blanket, baby, are you sure you’re not hungry?”

He lets one of his hands snake out so he can pull the covers out from underneath his legs, whispering out an “I- I can eat if… if you want me to?” as he passes it to her.

“It’s not up to me” Y/N says, arranging the quilt across his back, “what do you want?”

“…To stay here for awhile?…”

He means in her arms. He means against her chest, where he finally feels safe, and there isn’t a single thing in the world that could convince her to prise him away. Not with the way he’s looking at her, wide eyed and touch-starved.

“Then you can stay here awhile.” she tells him, one hand snaking up to cup his cheek, “You can stay right here for as long as you want”

“Excuse the interruption, but Miss Romanoff has sent a reply, Bucky, would you like to hear it now, or shall I store it for later playback?”

Bucky’s eyes widen for a moment, and he pushes back into Y/N’s hand as he gulps;

“Can I- Can I hear it now?”

‘Ofcourse—

Zabud' ob etom. Vy byli pervym chelovekom, kotoryy ustroil mne dostoynyy boy za desyat' let. My provedem match-revansh, kogda tebe stanet luchshe.’

Forget about it. You were the first person to give me a decent fight in a decade. We'll rematch when you're feeling better.

There’s a laugh in her tone that makes Y/N scoff, eyes rolling as her old friends voice floods the space.

“See?” she whispers, pressing a kiss against his lips, “Don’t worry about Nat”

His smile is tight and anxious, and she can tell he wants to hide again, so she reminds him that he doesn’t need to reply, and that is when he surrenders, nodding and retreating to her chest.

“We’ll eat later” she says, “You, you just get comfy, it’s been a hell of a mornin’…”

It has, it has been a hell of a morning.

“I love you” is the response he settles on, “I- I love you so much”

That makes her laugh, but it’s sweet, it’s happy and girlish, and he’s beaming into the skin of her throat.

“Baby boy” she coos, “I love you more.”

“’s not possible” he counters, because he can’t not, “doll, It… it’s like you hung the damn moon”

“We’ll argue it out another day” she whispers, feeling him sagging against her, “you’re exhausted.”

He is, he is exhausted, he’s emotionally drained and the heat from her body is drawing him in, making it easy for his breathing to synchronise with hers, deep, and slow.

His eyes are closed and her fingers are in his hair.

God, he feels like the luckiest man alive.

and then, he’s asleep again.

Y/N spends more time showering him in gentle touches, this time. She plays with the curls that are hanging loose across the back of his neck. She presses her lips against his brow and then finally drapes one arm across the back of waist so that she can pull up the STARK internship paperwork that she’d mentioned filling out earlier with the other.

In two hours, it’s early evening and she’s half way through the file.

In three, she’s still half way through, but now Natasha has let her know that she has the dog tag, and she can bring it up whenever.

Now might be the best time, she considers, whilst he’s sleeping— maybe we can avoid another introduction.

She relays her thoughts to FRIDAY who quietly, and politely agrees with her theory, and tells her that ‘Ms Romanoff will be with her in a few moments.’

It’s been just over five minutes when Natasha lets herself into Y/N’s suite.

Unlike Steve she’s used to dropping by, so, there isn’t any cause for her to stop to survey her surroundings.

That is, until she spots her best friend, curled up on her couch with the very same super-solider that had been deemed as ‘HYRDA’s most dangerous weapon’ passed out between her thighs.

That is definitely worth a double take.

Y/N’s eyes roll at the look on her face, and she uses her free hand to beckon her towards her,

“He’s sleeping—” she tells her helpfully, “— and thank you for finding it so quickly”

The dog tag is already in her outstretched palm. Natasha’s smile is curious more than anything else, so Y/N finds herself mirroring it, quirking a brow and murmuring out a “what?” that makes the other woman chuckle, quiet and tempered into the air between them;

“This isn’t just a hook-up is it?”

“No” she replies, “No, I don’t think it is.”

The red-head nods, and her face morphs into something only approving.

“You met him whilst you were away?” she checks, waiting for Y/N to nod before she continues, “So you’ve been, together, for awhile?”

“Yeah” Y/N agrees, “better part of 5 years.”

“Well” Nat sighs, “I hope he deserves you.”

“He does” she’s quick to tell her

“good” the other woman replies, “if you trust him, then that’s good enough for me, just let him know that if he breaks your heart then it won’t just be Tony he has to watch out for.”

That makes Y/N snort, childish and happy as she nods, curling her fingers through Bucky’s hair again.

“Speaking off” Natasha murmurs, “Is he okay? With this whole thing?”

“I think he’s more than okay” she says, “Honestly, I didn’t expect him to be so good about it, y’know? but he’s really gone out of his way to make this easy on us.”

“He can probably tell how happy you are” she replies, “and if somethin’ happens and you need me then-”

“I know you’ve got my back” Y/N swears, “You always have, Nat- ya tebya lyublyu”

I love you

A genuine smile blooms across the red-heads face. She’s beaming as she leans in to press a kiss on Y/N’s brow, and she’s still sporting the same grin when she starts towards the door.

“Do you think he’ll mind if I stop by tomorrow?”

“I don’t know” Y/N says honestly, “I doubt it? If he isn’t ready then I’ll slip out and catch you before training”

And then she’s gone, and Y/N finds herself tucking the dog tag into her pocket so that she can return her attention to the papers she’d been working on before.

Bucky doesn’t stir for another hour. By then she’s actually almost finished. She’s so focused on the task at hand that she only notices he’s awake when he moves, rolling onto his side so he can peer at the glowing hologram she’s typing on.

“Hey, love” she purrs, “Sorry, I thought I’d try and get this finished whilst you slept.”

“Don’t be sorry, doll” he replies, voice cracking with disuse, “Have I been out long?”

“3 hours, maybe 4?” Y/N answers, looking at the clock, “it’s about 8 now, Nat’s been and gone.”

That catches his attention, he paws at his eyes, and then at his chin, all whilst using his metal arm to support his weight so he can stare at her face.

“What?” she presses, typing the final sentence of her conclusion with impressive speed, “Did you want me to wake you?”

“No” he admits, “I- I just didn’t think she’d be able to find it so quick”

The papers are finished so Y/N hits submit, dismissing the screen with a flick of her wrist so that she can give him her full attention.

“It wasn’t hidden” she reminds him calmly, “Do you want to see it?”

His lip quirks as he nods.

She shifts her hips pulling the silver, age-stained trinket out of her pocket before letting the charm drop, so that its where he can reach out and grab it.

He does, turning it over in his flesh fingers as his eyes scan the engravings again and again.

“Is it the right thing?” she wonders, already suspecting from the look on his face that it is, “I’m pretty sure, but-”

“Yeah” he says, “Yeah, it- it’s right— can I give it to him now?”

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | x | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #fluff #x reader #drabble #series #BBneverlosthim

42 notes · View notes

actual-changeling · 4 months

Note

…im sorry i feel like im still missing something. gabirel and beelzebub didn’t unlearn anything, though? they were in positions of power and left the system when they got bored. they’ve never been terrified for so long the way crowley and aziraphale have been (as far as we know). they implemented fear into the lower ranking demons and angels to keep them in line with threats of violence, of falling, condescension, and actual implementation of punishment via execution. g+b arent comparable to a+c because g+b actually felt like they had control over things in their lives. and what other angels and demons have unlearned everything the system has taught them? do you mean unlearn as in they now view the system the same way crowley does? if i understand you correctly (and correct me if im wrong), you’re saying aziraphale is in the same position as all the other angels so therefore has no excuse to “not change” but he (and crowley) are in distinctly unique positions from everyone else because of their time on earth and with each other. that gives them unique struggles, right?

I'm sorry, but at this point I'm wondering if you've even watched the show because it is all right there on the screen.

Aziraphale is in a unique position yes, and it is BETTER than literally everyone else's. Heaven does not give a single fuck about what he does and does not do, he has more freedom than any other celestial being and can do whatever the hell he wants. The only time heaven cares about him is if he is directly working against their world-ending plans—otherwise they forget he exists. This is canon. Heaven somehow judging and punishing him is made up. They don't care about earth or what Aziraphale does down there.

And are you trying to tell me that Gabriel and Beez are somehow in charge of the system? Because they're not. They're victims just like everyone else. The Metatron could have his memory erased and his life destroyed with a snap—they survived the way they were forced to live, just like every other angel. They have no more control than Muriel does, they are just as paranoid and terrified and lonely. They can be punished like everyone else, their jobs are high-risk.

Gabriel is not lying to Beez' face. He is not insulting them, being cruel, trying to change them, or calling them an evil demon like it is the worst thing it could possibly be. Beez is fine with being a demon and Gabriel is fine with being an angel, and they both understand that those identities mean absolutely nothing once you look past the institution. Everyone knows that, except for Aziraphale, because he refuses to see that.

Angels are working with demons, and yes, they have their roles, but they also know that those only matter while they're actively doing their jobs. None of them have fucking control, not demons, not Archangels, not Dukes of hell, not Crowley. Angels and demons are not the enemy here.

Heaven and hell as institutions are, not individuals who were forced to live within them.

Again, Aziraphale had almost total freedom because he's been on earth since the beginning, his "concern" is based on made-up beliefs so he does not have to look past his own comfort.

"Unique struggles" for CROWLEY, who is canonically being tortured and followed and watched 24/7. And HE STILL CHANGED. He fucking worked on himself, he is not being cruel or cowardly, he is not hurtful, he understands what it means to live in an abusive system and he still changed because that's what is right. What is decent. Crowley is kind despite the fact that it can get him killed because he actually looked in the mirror and built his own moral compass instead of shutting eyes & ears and sticking to bigoted views to make his life easier.

Aziraphale does not change because he does not want to. He keeps hurting Crowley because it's the path of least resistance, the easiest way to avoid having to look in the mirror, and he takes it for granted that Crowley will come back to him no matter what. That he can demand anything and everything and Crowley will follow—and if he doesn't, he throws a tantrum like a toddler and goes to pout in a corner (see the argument about Gabriel in episode one, for example).

Aziraphale was in a unique position with endless opportunities and he did absolutely nothing with it—his beliefs and words are the same as on the walls of Eden. Six thousand years and Crowley is still the second choice and heaven his first.

#alex answers asks #alex talks good omens #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce

26 notes · View notes