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ohtobeleah · 11 months

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Flight Deck // Bob Floyd

-> Prologue: Conspiracy Theories

Summary: In an attempt to prevent Bob from running for the hills believing you’re a murderer. You sit him down to discuss your past.

Warnings: Mentions of Death of a loved one. Mentions of house fire. Bob Floyd x F!reader.

Word Count: 3.4k

Author Note: Day Twenty Four of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Disowned by Family, Oxygen Deprivation, Silent Treatment. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

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The cafe was closed. The flashing open sign that signaled to patrons that premium coffee beans were ready to be freshly ground and a plethora of pastries, toasted sandwiches, crumbly but oh so gooey cookies and massive muffins were fresh and ready to be devoured, was switched off against the window.

The awkward silence that filled the atmosphere was almost too much to handle as Bob sat across from you in the book nook. There was a flat white with one sugar and a macaroon sitting on a small tea plate before him. He didn’t like macaroons, but there had only been a few items left to choose from come closing and his favourite apple and cinnamon muffins had all but vanished from the menu.

It was his fault really, he’d been caught up in his own insecurities for far too many weeks to realise the damage he’d unintentionally caused. You didn’t deserve to be ghosted like he ghosted you. The silent treatment was a poor representation of the man he wanted to be. He never should have believed you were capable of such things. The rumors he had heard about you had a nasty bite. They left a sour taste in Bob's mouth—sometimes he wished he’d never listened, and especially the Jake fucking Seresin of all people. What Hyde saw in him Bob would never truly know.

“You don't owe me an explanation—“ Bob began as he looked down at his hands that rested between his thighs under the table. He’d been picking at his cuticles for the past ten minutes as you shut the cafe down to other customers and locked the front door. It was one of those rare occasions where your son, five year old Oliver Lipscombe, was at after school vacation care.

“You’ve already heard the rumours.” You replied, there was a sadness in your voice Bob couldn’t miss. He knew he’d hurt you. It was never his intention, but his fight or flight response had kicked in and his immediate reaction was to avoid you at all costs. It was his brain's defense system telling him that he was in danger, to run as far away as he possibly could so that he wouldn’t be hurt.

He grew up doing that, running away from any situation that could have caused him any kind of pain. Emotionally or physically. Bob Floyd was a runner, a flight risk of you will.

And that’s exactly what the Weapons Systems Officer who had started to fall in love with you did, despite his heart screaming at him to stick around and just ask you what the hell was going on and why there was a rumour:

A rumour that you’d killed your fiancé and burned your house to its very foundation to hide the secrets you kept close to your chest.

“I've never talked about this with anyone besides my lawyers before.” The zucchini and corn fritter that sat on the tea plate in front of you had gone stone cold. Usually you looked forward to a treat after you closed up.

But sitting across from Robert Floyd, the first man you’d ever bothered to look at let alone entertain the idea of beginning a new chapter of your life with, since your entire life was turned upside down, you hardly had any appetite.

“It’s always stayed with me—and it’s taken me three years to push it back from this cortex part of my brain.” You point to your head, hopefully explaining what your therapist had told you to Bob. “To the frontal part of my brain, the memory.” Again, you pointed to your head—only this time your finger touched your forehead gently. “It took me three years to just put him somewhere else in my mind with the help of psychiatrists and the clinicians.” Bob could tell you were already becoming visibly upset, the teary look of numbness and pain lurked behind your gaze as you looked towards him, but not at him. It was like you were looking right past him as he sat before you. “They helped me move him around so that he wasn’t going to be in my mind's eye in the daytime or in the night time—or any time.”

Three years ago your entire life changed. Just shy off three months ago you thought the missing pieces to your very traumatic puzzle were coming together again. When you first met Bob you were a little weary, afraid to put yourself out there. But he lingered. His presence was welcome and soon enough you found yourself making unapologetic advances towards the reserved but gentle man who adored your apple and cinnamon muffins.

But six weeks ago, Robert Floyd took you and your son, Oliver, out for dinner at the Hard Deck and he never returned your texts after. He didn’t call or stop by. Your apple and cinnamon muffins began to rot and go stale in the display. Turns out you really were just making that particular recipe for him.

“The human body, or the human mind, Bob—isn’t perfectly equipped to deal with trauma despite our very need to believe it can handle everything life throws your way.” That’s what your therapist had told you when the nightmares wouldn’t go away. That’s what she had told you when you could smell the smoke in your room when you laid awake at night. That’s what your therapist had told you when you had been named a person of interest.

Bob sat quietly, watching and listening to you speak like you were on autopilot, like you were reciting an analysis done by some professional who had assessed your physiological state of mind. Still—your eyes remained trained on him, but you were looking right through him. It was eerie, to say the very least.

“The brain can't be positioned to deal with the tragedy of another human being being murdered, it just reminds you that it could’ve as easily have been you or someone you love, and when it is someone you love, when something like that happens to someone close to you—the brains just doesn’t know how to exist with that kind of trauma.”

“So—“ Bob spoke up in the lingering silence as you dropped your eyeline down to the cup of tea that was now lukewarm that sat beside your fritter. “What exactly does the mind do?”

You let the silence echo off the walls of your humble cafe. The Flight Deck as it was appropriately called for the Navy Town that had taken you in with open arms. Accepting the stray you were like you had done with your cat, Oreo, that was older than some of the Admirals that frequented your caffeine corner. You let the silence go for as long as you could—until it was thick and all consuming and you had to remind yourself to breathe again. It was always that burning feeling, your lungs igniting from a lake of oxygen that reminded you to breathe.

“It starts to play games.” You sighed as you tried to let go of the pressure that had built up in your jaw. Anxiety laced your nervous system as you spoke and Bob could practically smell it. “It starts trying its best to process the grief, the loss, the pain.”

It made sense in a way, Bob had truly never stopped and looked back at his own past, he’d never tried to process his sorrow or his own feelings about what had happened to him during his early childhood and teenage years. He just repressed the rage, the anger, the feelings of betrayal and despair that he felt and ran. He ran as far away as he could and never looked back.

Now? He was sitting in a small but beautifully designed coffee shop owned by the most beautiful woman on the planet, listening about how the mind isn’t equipped to deal with trauma. Ironic isn’t it?

“Sometimes if you’re lucky your brain just decides to block the memory all together, but sometimes it begins to create scenarios.” You reached out to rip a little bit of your fritter off as Bob remained still, he was just trying to soak up everything you were saying. “It starts to question the ‘who done it’s’ and the ‘how comes’ and the small intricate details that could have been avoided to avoid the disaster and the choices made that ultimately led to it.” You paused for a second, taking a small but satisfying bite of the cold fritter to stop your stomach from doing backflips. “And when none of that helps? It looks for a different angel, conspiracy theories are born, it’s the very reason why the whole ideology that the Bush administration was responsible for September Eleventh came about.”

In your book nook there sat a book that had always caught Bob's eyes. Ground Zero by Alan Gratz. He could see it behind you just off to the left, shoved between an array of true crime, fiction and biographies. The books were communal—like a library built on a trust system. You take a book, you bring it back and if you have any old books at home you’d like to share? They always have a spoke on the oak shelves.

“People need answers to help them process the utter magnitude of such a tragedy, and when they don’t find it internally, and still can’t process the facts laid out in front of them, the brain searches elsewhere.” Your sudden chuckle caught Bob by surprise as you wiped away tears that streamed down your cheeks. “And you always think conspiracy theories are wild and far-fetched and exactly what they are—theories designed to help people’s minds deal with trauma that their brains can’t comprehend.” That’s when you really took a deep breath in for a moment and looked up at Bob through watery lashes and deep sorrow.

“You always think that conspiracy theories are fake and aren’t grounded in any kind of truth or reality until you're suddenly in the middle of one and your brain is running a million miles an hour trying to understand what the hell is happening.”

Bob knew that your name was shrouded in rumors he never should have believed. He felt so guilty for allowing his own personal issues with trust and loyalty to alter his perception of you. As he sat across from you and watched your tears fall freely, he knew he should have just asked sooner, he never should have grown distant, tried to back away, he should have just asked what happened.

“My fiancé was murdered.” You explained as quickly and as calmly as you could. “We’d been arguing earlier that same day about some upcoming bills that were due to be paid towards our wedding.” It seemed so arbitrary the more you said it, whenever you did think about it you caught yourself wondering had things been less heated that morning, you wouldn’t be sitting here—defending yourself in front of a man that had broken your heart before he even got a chance to officially be anyone beyond the title of ‘Close, sometimes we have sex, my son thinks you’re his best friend, friends.’

“He decided that he was going to go for a run around the estate.” You had to pause for a moment as Bob raised an eyebrow your way. It wasn’t the mention of murder that got his attention—it had been the mention of an estate. “The Lipscombes are old money, estates, luxury homes, cars, hotels, restaurants, you name it.”

“What was his name?” You hadn’t been asked that question ever. It took you a moment to process as you just stared at Bob in shock. “Your fiancé? What was his name?”

“Harrison—“ A little over two years had passed since you had said his name out loud. “He liked Harry.” Bob saw a genuine smile creep itself across your face, he adored it. It was one of the many things he admired about you—your infectious smile. It didn’t last long however. “It was such a petty argument and I spent a lot of time wondering if we had just paid what the photographer wanted then he’d still be here.”

“Can I uh—“ Through a nervous croak Bob cleaned his throat and shifted in his position. “Sit next to you?” It was a simple question really, but the weight of it was truly something else.

Bob really did like you, he’d just made a horrible choice in judgment.

You nodded in response silently as your bottom lip trembled with a sorrow all consuming. Bob was quick to move from sitting across from you, to beside you with an arm slung up and around your shoulders to draw you into him for comfort.

“He never came back.” You continued explaining your past through tears that seeped into Bob's flight suit. He’d come straight from work to the cafe with another bunch of apology flowers. He was as unrelenting as he was endearing. “And I can still remember that feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, that feeling that something was wrong, Ollie was only young, he doesn’t know that his dad was killed, he just knows that he died.”

“What happened?” Bob asked tentatively as he held you, your face was pressed into the comfort of his shoulder and chest as you slid down the booth a little.

“It’s still unsolved.” It gave Bob the chills. “But after three days of searching the property we found his body in the shrubbery that led into the forest, beaten up, stabbed, he was unrecognisable.”

“Oh my gosh—“ It was pretty confronting to hear, but as Bob held you close and guided you through what he could only describe as remembering the worst day of your life, he knew that the more he knew, the more he understood, the easier it would be to move forward.

“Yeah, he was the love of my life.” You didn’t want it to be a secret. “Besides the odd argument, which just so happened to have happened before he died, we were good.” You could remember quite easily what it was like to be loved by someone. “We loved each other so much, there was no malice or spite or secrets.” That’s when you paused and sat up out of Bob's hold to take a sip of your tea. The lukewarm liquid soothed your throat, calmed your nerves and grounded you in reality.

“So when I was being asked to come in for questioning a few days after his body had been found I didn’t know what to think.”

“The police thought you were the one who killed him?”

“Them and the entire town.” You nodded as you pressed your lips together. “Trial by judgment doesn’t leave a hell of a lot of room for innocent until proven guilty.”

“What about his family?” Bob was invested now, not that he wasn’t before. But the more you spoke and the more you told your story the more Bob felt himself understanding. “What did they think?”

“Oh—“ You had to laugh through the painful memories, Bob just pulled you back into him when he saw you shake your head in defeat. “They were the first ones to point blame, someone killed their baby boy and the only possible person who could have done it was the soon to be wife.”

The Lipscombes were old money, which meant they had a hell of a lot of assets to protect. It made sense why they turned on you so quickly when their son turned up dead after an argument with his soon to be wife. But what didn’t make sense was how easily they portrayed you as a woman with ill intentions.

“I loved him so much, with all my heart for five beautiful years Bob, and those people who I considered family, who are my son’s family, decided without any hesitation that it was my doing, that I was capable of murder.”

But the worst part of all was still yet to be told. You had never spoken to anyone about the events that took place the night before you decided to run and never look back.

“Family isn’t always forever.” Bob understood better than most just how easy it could be for the people who were meant to love you the most could turn their backs on you. “And I gotta say, if they were so quick to ostracize you then they weren’t good enough to be a part of your life.”

“Little hypocritical coming from the man who thought he was going to be my next victim don’t you think?” Okay, Bob deserved that. He took the hit but instead of pulling away to sit in his own shame, he leaned in and gently tilted your chin up. For a second he hesitated, wondering if he was crossing some invisible line. But when your teary, water filled eyes trailed between his baby blue orbs and soft lips that tasted of spearmint gum, he knew that it was safe to gently press his lips against yours.

The kiss was fleeting, but was well received. You didn’t hesitate to kiss Bob back in your moment of weakness. Talking about your late fiancé’s death in your cafe with the man you so hoped would love you with all your baggage in toe seemed like something right out of an episode of the twilight zone. But, you pulled away and continued telling your story. You wanted everything laid out on the table for Bob to access and decide if he could handle it.

If he couldn’t? You wouldn’t blame him. You’d be all alone again but at least that meant no one could hurt you.

“Eventually the police dismissed me as a person of interest, they had no evidence to support that I was involved and the security footage from the front and back doors all showed I didn’t leave the house in the timeframe the coroner determined the time of death.”

You could smell it, the burning smell of smoke that deprives you of oxygen. It lingered in the air around you as much as it did in your memories. You hadnt smelt it in years—the smell of your entire life burning down around you.

“Logan, one of Harry’s best mates since high school had come over to help me clean up the house, he cooked dinner and I put Ollie to bed and said goodnight and I ended up just crashing on the lounge.” Bob knew what was coming next, he remembered Hangman telling him when he was on his high horse.

But knowing the rough outline never came close to the actual details.

“It was the smell.” You sobbed as Bob held you tight. “I couldn’t breathe.” Oxygen deprivation was something you’d never experienced to the degree you did that night. “The smoke was so thick and consuming, I woke up coughing and couldn’t see.”

“The house was on fire.” Bob mumbled against the top of your head, he was just trying to process everything you were telling him. And you were trying not to spiral back into that moment.

“HELP!!” The house was full of thick black smoke as everything went up in flames. “HELP ME! SOMEBODY?” You couldn’t see your hand in front of your face as you shot up from the couch. “OL—“ Allconsuming smoke filled your lungs as you coughed and splattered and tried to cover your mouth. “OLIVER!”

“I crawled my way over to where I thought the stairs were and raced up to grab Oliver from his room.” You remembered it all too well, the feeling of not being able to breathe, the smell, the fear of losing your child after losing his father. “I was practically hanging him out the window by the time the fire brigade arrived, the neighbours who owned the estate across the way were up and saw the orange flames.”

“Do you know what caused it, the fire?” Bob asked as you calmed a little in his warm embrace. The next two words that left your mouth sent chills down Bob's spine. He thought maybe you left a candle burning, that maybe the oven was on? That perhaps there was an electrical fault or lightning stuck somewhere.

While Bob was searching for an explanation, he could still smell the smoke. All the oxygen from your body had been absorbed and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t see. It was like you were being totally consumed once again by that deprivation. That all consuming smoke that nearly killed you. But when you felt Bob's hands in yours? Suddenly—you could speak.

“It's still undetermined.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

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v-era-18 · 7 months

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HoneyBee

Chapter Eight : Needing a Hero

“A family friend told me something once; No sacrifice, No Victory.” - (Y/n) (L/n) StoryTeller / Hero

Breathing is a good thing to remember during times like this. When the panic starts to settle in along with your current reality and expectations. Your nerves pump you with adrenaline, triggering your fight or flight responses.

And sometimes your first instinct is to react with emotion instead.

(Y/n) let out a guttural scream before jumping up catching Sam and Mikeala’s attention. The two teens were by her side in two seconds flat Lennox not too far behind. A whine of whirr caught their attention to the side. A large figure of black and yellow moved slowly from the rubble, weirs and sparks emitted from stubs where his legs were supposed to be. Looking around there was no sight of his other ped. The reality of war was sinking in fast.

“Bumblebee!” The girl pushed Sam away and scampered over to the scout. She horrifically watches him drag himself along the ground in pain. His two legs were gone, although she woke up besides one missing limb it didn’t make her feel any less positive about the situation. “Oh my god! What can I do? Tell me what to do! I can help you-I’ll help you-“

Sam started to help clearing a path allowing the scout to move though, “We got you Bee, you just gotta get up. Bumblebee? Get up!”

“Ratchet!” (Y/n) screamed for help.

What Bumblebee needed was immediate medical attention, and it was unfortunate she didn’t know how else to help in this situation. You think in all those books she’s read there were instructions for this. To help when they were injured and there's no help from their fellow colleagues.

The girl went back in front of the cybertronian, her hands shaking and eyes burning. She didn't know what to do. No one around them knew what to do!

“You gotta get up,” Sam encouraged, “You’re okay. You’re okay. Come on!”

As if things couldn't get worse the retracting sounds of a tank in the distance was hollow in her head. For the first time she got to witness a tank firing off in the middle of the street in real life. She had to give men in the service their props, because compared to them she didn't have any balls big enough for this kind of thing.

She already had huge respect for the men and women in camo. But for now there won’t be a day where she’ll shy away for saying thank you for your service.

“Decepticons can have tanks?” (Y/n) whispered solemnly, “These mother fuckers are cheating!”

Sam could only stare in horror at the sight before him.

Jazz and Ratchet could be seen in the distance making their way towards them. It should’ve been a slight reassurance that help was on the way but the decepticon tank looked like it was ready to end them in one millisecond.

“Come on! We need to move!”

Mikaela stared at Bumblebee for a long second. This whole time the only thing she could contribute was support for (Y/n) and Sam. No where was it required for her to be the hero-the aid in this mission. But watching the bot drag himself on the ground with the Afro haired girl before him painicing did something to kick her into overdrive.

The girl looked around before breaking out into a sprint down the street. A truck came into view giving the girl a bright idea for the scout for aid. Although she didn't know much about aliens or their species, she did know alot about vehicles.

Bumblebee moved himself further next to (Y/n), he could see the sheer despair on her face and it made him sad knowing he wasn't able to provide comfort to her at this very moment. The crease in her brows didn't suit her, along with the long blood trail that outlined the side of her face.

The stress of war didn’t suit her at all.

To top it off, he couldn’t stop his spark from beating so loudly. As a scout he never had doubt in his abilities. He was able to get in and out of situations faster than many of his comrades and competitors. It was the reason why Optimus trusted him and the reason why he was so respected amongst others. In times like this age is just a number-a consideration. Your skills and mindset is what separates you from others. In the end you have to be at your best in order to survive.

Bumblebee didn’t have to look behind him to see the damage done. He could feel it. And boy did it fucking hurt.

But he couldn’t think about himself right now. He needed to think about the lives before him. The lives of families, friends, and strangers with dreams that are just a fragment of the imagination.

This was a prosperous planet like Cybertron once was. And he be damned if this one falls as well.

He crawled closer to (Y/n), her form shook with each passing second as she watched him. She never moved away though. The girl before him stood her ground occasionally looking for any signs of Ratchet to come to his aid.

Unfortunately for his sweetspark they didn’t have time.

“I’m not … I’m not leaving you.” (Y/n) stated inching forward, “Ratchet is on his way just give him a second-“

She was cut off with the black and yellow boy presenting the Cube before her. Her breathing hitched in her throat already knowing what it meant. (Y/n) grabbed it from him, the weight of it heavy. So many lives rested in the very object she held. And it made her stomach queasy.

He let out a pained slow whirr at her expression. Hoping the look in his optics would give some form of reassurance that everything was going to be alright.

Sam watched the two, his breathing uneven but concentrated on the task at hand. He knew that help was going to be a long time away with so much going on. Apart from the civilians and the Air Force they were on their own. Seeing his friend hold the cube sent his mind in a tizzy.

How were they supposed to cube to safety with a big tank in the way? And how could (Y/n) get by successfully with a Decepticon blowing her into oblivion?

Jazz ,Ironhide and Ratchet finally arrived for backup. The Afro haired girl backed up behind Bumblebee as she watched the three autobots practically disassemble the decepticon in the middle of the street. Sawed off arms, blasted in torso, and the head eventually being flown off.

A smile slowly graced her features before being completely wiped clean. She heard the plan before she saw him. The low runner of death making her hairs stand on end and spine throb. She could feel it in person. The one thing humans fear the very most ever in life. Death.

“Megatron!”

Sam zeroed in on (Y/n) as her face became slack. Her eyes never removed from the sight of the personification of death before her. Nothing else mattered to her anymore, she wanted to run-scream and hide.

For once she doesn't want to be the hero. No, she wanted to be rescued.

“(Y/n)!” Sam grabbed a hold on the girl's shoulders trying to tune out the yelling and screaming of civilians around them. “I need you to stay with me okay? You got to breathe! Don’t let them win!”

Optimus appeared before them down the street, his stance firm, “It’s Megatron! Retreat! Move! Fall Back!” The Prime tried to hold off the decepticon Leader only to be knocked down quickly with a blast. There were simply too many casualties on the streets to go full on without someone possibly dying or gearing hurt.

The soldiers filed back towards them just as a ‘Mikes Towers’ truck stopped in the middle. Mikeala hopped out of the vehicle, her face stern, “Sam, (Y/n)! Help me with this!”

The three teens worked quickly with Bumblebee. Making sure the wires were wrapped around him tightly in order to haul him onto the truck. (Y/n) at first wanted to question if it would be painful for him to be tied up so roughly. Unfortunately they were all out of options and comfort was the last thing they needed to worry about at the moment.

“What’s going on?” Lennox asked.

A fellow soldier looked through the binoculars, frustration written all over his face, “Sir! That tank thing’s getting back up.”

“Oh, these things just don’t die.” A helicopter’s propellers caught his attention, causing him to turn around seeing a large decepticon pierced on a large building. Dread and exhaustion filled Lennox’s body at the sight.

“Oh we are so dead.”

“Epps, get those Black Hawks here!” Lennox ordered. He looked to his right, spotting a tall skyscraper just east of where they were. “That building….”

He worked quickly getting over to (Y/n). Out of all the people here he didn’t want to ask this of this girl. It was simply because she was a female either-it was because she had so much going for her and he would hate it if she had died. She had a grandmother to go home to, just like how he had a wife and daughter. Fighting for your life doesn’t make these decisions any easier.

“Sam! (Y/n)! Where's the cube?”

(Y/n) lifted the cube off of the back of the truck for the soldier to see.

“Okay,” Lennox grabbed (Y/n)’s arm guiding her away from the cybertronian she was aiding, “Allright, I can't leave my guys back there, so here, take this flare-”

The girl shook her head, “What-?”

“Okay, there's a tall, white building with statues on top. Go to the roof. Set the flare.”

“No,” She uttered softly, “Get Sam to do it I cant-”

“Signal the chopper and set the flare-”

“No! Get someone else to do it! I can't-!”

Lennox grabbed the girl’s shirt roughly causing Sam to step forward to remove his hands by force only Mikela stopped him.

“You know more about these beings than any of my men or any of us here on this planet! The moment you opened your mouth earlier I knew we had a future leader in that room. Wasted potential that system lets go to waste to fucking often.” The girl still continued to shake her head with tears in her eyes, fear running up and down her spine like a virus.

Lennox continued, “You're more than a soldier right now. You're our last hope. All Right? I need you to take this Cube. Get it into military hands while we hold them off,or a lot of people are going to die.” He looked over to Bumblebee who was staring at her the whole time feeling a sense of dread wash over himself before looking back at (Y/n). “including them.”

(Y/n) held the cube tightly, her lips wobbling as she looked back over towards the building. Leonox gave her a second to think before turning his head back over to the other two teens. “You two need to go-”

“We're not leaving,” Mikeala said stiffly.

The soldier grew frustrated. These teens don't know when to listen. “You need to go now!”

“No, we're not leaving okay,” Sam agreed, “Not until we get Bumblebee out of here!”

“Army Black Hawk requesting immediate evac for civilian girl with precious cargo. She is headed to the rooftop marked by the flare,” Epps spoke into the walkie talkie quickly before ducking for cover once more.

(Y/n) started to be approached by the other autobots as she continued to stare at the building ahead. She was trying to slow her breathing, her heart was screaming in her ears and her lungs couldn't get enough air. She's never seen so much destruction before her eyes, and she was just given a task to run right through it to deliver their life or death.

“(Y/n),” Ironhide stepped forward, “We will protect you.”

‘Protect me?’

The promise seemed to be heavy on her heart. Here she was worrying about how qualified she was to do this and there were soldiers and autobots alike willing to sacrifice their lives in order for her to safely get the cube to high ground.

But what happens after that? The sky can only hold the cube for so long before another decepticon finds it in their reach. Itr will be blown out of the sky and then the cube will be in their hands and terraform the planet.

But the fact of the matter is-did they have any more options?

“Lennox! Epps!” (Y/n) called after them, “Where are those planes?”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, watching the girl before him that he'd known for practically his whole life before it actually began. The good the bad she was always by his side, and for the current moment he couldn't be next to her, the time she truly needed her the most. He stepped towards her, catching her eyes as they downcasted towards the cube she ranted about so many times. He should've listened all those years ago; but who could blame him, he thought they were just stories. Fiction a dream that she wished to hear about. And they were now the story book, not knowing the ending.

Two best friends, not knowing if they were going to live or die. One a hero, one a survivor. Or did it really have to be that way?

“Listen I know this isn't really the time to tell you this but—”

“Don't confess to me right now—”

“I promise you, I wouldn't think about doing that at this very moment because I'm four years too late okay?” The boy huffed before pulling her into a strong embrace, “Come home to me alive okay? You're my best friend practically attached at the hip. And if you die-” She felt him shake slightly with an exhale before he breathed in again, “A large part of me will die as well.”

They both released each other, Sam sent the girl an encouraging smile before petting her head softly. Something he hasn't done since the tenth grade. Childhood euphoria washed over them seeming to come full circle. He took in her expression one more time before slowly releasing her, not knowing if it was going to be for the last time.

“Now go fucking kill them.”

(Y/n) let off a cruel smile, “Already ahead of you Lord Witwicky.”

~ ✯ ~

(Y/n) (L/n) from today on has promised that if she survives this, she would document every fragment of her life from her on out. Because this shit could only be made up in the crevices of someone's twisted mindframe.

Ironhide and Ratchet provided protection while the girl made her way down the street to the building. Rubble and black deprise was blown in different directions and made it hard to remain consistent within her sprints on the battlefield.

The girl couldn't believe she was doing this. Her legs burned from the lack of exercise she had throughout her lifetime not to mention the asthma that was catching up to her. It was so hard to breathe each time she pumped her legs to move faster towards the building in front of her.

With a shout she quickly avoided a decepticons ped that landed near her, Ironhid had grabbed the Con blasting him towards another building causing civilians to break out into more screams of panic. It really was a shame they weren't able to evacuate the city in time for these large robots to run amok throughout the streets. She was more worried with the fact that there was a chance there were humans stepping on more than the gunfire.

She heard the sound of a plane and the shifting of metal behind her causing her legs to move faster than before. The hard thumps of ped steps in pursuit of her was what her ears focused on as she made through the waves of chaos around her. Never has she shoved so many people in her life. The cubed seemed to emit a thrumming sound around her arm and rib cage.

(Y/n) pumped her legs faster trying her best to ignore the commotion and panic surrounding her. She screamed as she was cornered In between a store with a deception closing in on her, she ducked her head letting out a yell as the blades missed her by a hair, most of the damage being done to the car and store Windows.

“Ironhide where—?!” The girl cut off seeing an all too familiar airplane diving right towards her letting out sounds that would awaken her in nightmares . Skidding to a stop the girl immediately turned around, the sifting of metal filling along with the crash and destruction of vehicles around her.

Ironhide and Ratchet were there immediately, the girl taking cover behind another vehicle and rubble trying to seem smaller than she was. Never had she’d seen Starscream so up close before other than the nightmares that plagued her, and to say the description of his chilling red optics weren’t ones to laugh at.

This was Megatron second in command. And he-he was flying away after taking a few hits. Although it was a bad time the girl did want to admit it was a bit disappointing from the cruel stories about the Decepticon second in command.

Ironhide looked over at the girl anxiously, noticing her panicked expression, “Hurry (Y/n)! Get to the building! There isn’t much time!”

Shaking and breathing labored the girl did as told. Her thighs burned along with her lungs, cheeks aflame from the heat. Not to mention the desperate sweat clutching every crevice of her being.

She wanted to go home. She didn’t want to be a hero anymore.

(Y/n) stumbled over another woman trying to run away, apologizing quickly before keeping her pace towards the building. She kept her eyes focused, there were only a few more streets down and then she’d he was home-.

“Give me that cube, girl!” Megatron growled fiercely from behind. The girl could practically hear the terrorist order in her very brain, so much that it almost compelled her to do as told.

Her heart thrummed louder in her chest as tears started to roll. The girl was so preoccupied with running away she didn’t notice the car speeding towards her. The girl hit the ground with a painful groan, watching the cube emit a blue glow all around along impacting the electronics around them.

‘Oh no.”

“You stupid bitch! Did you just hit my car?!”

(Y/n) sent the girl a heated glare simply throwing up the middle finger, before running back down the street in time to hear the civilians cries in the car. There was probably no doubt that the car had fully turned into a cybertronian by now.

‘Looks like you won't be having a car anymore,’ She thought snarky.

Finally the girl reached the building running through with a goofy smile on her face, “We can do this. We can do this! They’re not gonna get me! They’re not gonna get me-!”

A crash was heard behind her, cutting off her sentence of freedom , “I can smell you, girl!”

“Ew,” (Y/n) rounded the corner, her eyes placed on the stairs before starting to climb them, “ I do not want to know how that works.”

Upon reaching another level the girl continues up, screaming again as Megatron emerges from the floorboards behind her. The war terrorist was persistent and she would give him that.

She entered another room, a tired steadied sigh leaving her lips realizing that the staircase was still many more floors up.

‘Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he just killed me,’

~ ✯ ~

Mikeala let out a panicked breath pulling the tow truck into the alleyway. Sam was biting his nails anxiously looking back at Bumblebee who couldn’t stop moving his helm back and forth to see more of the fight. They were exhausted.

The girl placed her head on the steering wheel rethinking the past couple hours; her following after a girl she had a crush on for years, the giant robots showing themselves, sector seven arresting them, finding out that the world has been visited by aliens, and now the world was in the same girls hands that was reading in front of the class not even two days ago.

It wasn’t fair. Mikeala knew it wasn’t fair-none if it was. She’ll never get over the girl's face, her plump lips downturned and her eyes furrowed in anguish. She was facing a war terrorist alone-and the fucking three of her friends were fucking sitting here cowering in an alleyway. Frustrated, Banes got out of the car slamming their door back in the process. Sam followed suit, a worried expression on his face.

“Y-you okay-what-“

“We need a new plan, right now.” Banes hissed, “w-we can’t just sit here and do nothing! She’s out there alone-alone Sam! Did you not see her face? I’ve never seen her make that face-!”

The girl stopped a stray tear escaping before roughly wiping it away. She looked over locking eyes with optics that seemed to dim lightly. Something within her stomach started to churn at that expression; she had made it so many times before. But who was he making it for?

“Bumblebee?”The black and yellow boy whirred lightly, showing her that she indeed had his attention. “You want to save your Storyteller right? The same girl you laid in the grass with?”

The scouts expression turned serious, servos turning to guns immediately shocking Sam.

“Wait-are you two thinking what I think you're thinking?”

“Gonna try and stop us?”

“No…” Sam smiled wildly, a look that the girl wasn’t expecting at all, “I’m just making sure that we’re all equally as crazy here.”

The two teens got back in the car, Mikeala revving the engine before looking back at the scout.

“I drive! you shoot!”

~ ✯ ~

With a huff and breathless groan the girl finally made it to the top of the roof, push the cube of the ledge she quickly leapt off the ladder and onto the roof. Grabbing the cube once more she broke off into the sprint seeing the helicopters in view.

“Hey! Hey! I’m here!” She rounded another turn scraping the flare against the way to get their attention, “I’m over here! Please! I’m right here!”

The girl. Was finally surrounded by hope, the helicopter slowly arriving in front of her as she quickly made way towards the sight. A soldier came forward, reaching out quickly for the cube. Just as (Y/n) made way to hand it over in the corner of her eye she saw a sight that made her heart quake.

“Watch out!”

“Missile!”

It was too late the missile was deployed and hit to the side of the helicopter sending it spiraling down below.

“No!” (Y/n) cried, “No! No! No!”

She crawled along the ground , letting out a pained whimper not daring to look at the deep gash on her leg. She willed herself to be pulled up before breaking off into a run once more. A servo emerging from one of the vents caused the girl to scream, backing away, seeing another emerge just as quickly as the first.

Panicking the girl looked around for a hiding spot, nothing to distract the con while she could. Looking around she spotted a pillar on the very ledge of the building.

‘I have lost my damn mind’

She made quick to hoist her up the best she could before speaking her body as best as she could behind the pillar. She willed her whole being not to look down at the city streets below, hoping praying that by some grace of god an autobot would see her up and be ready to catch if she falls.

“Tell me, is it fear or courage that compels you, storyteller?” Megatron growled, “the stories about you were legend back on cybertron. To hear of a rumor speaking personally to an autobot light years away before your time and here you are, trembling like a mere morsel to be eaten alive.”

(Y/n) looked around for any type of escape only to find the honking of horns and rumbled streets down below answering back at her. “Oh my god. Please I don’t wanna die!”

“Give me the All Spark and you may live to be my pet.”

The last edge to the war terrorist tone sent the girl leaning backwards only to regret it a second later when the rubble was starting under her feet. A gulp was taken along with a tear falling down her cheek. She read a lot about heroes in her time of living-the good and the bad.

The knights riding in on horses, the morally corrupt, all the way to the ones selfishly acting for the greater good. And she was about to be the one that dies in the end. It was funny really, the story she told the class a few days ago, the tragedy. A knight and his lover. But in her case there was no lover, if she had one they would be laying at her feet before she would join them in perlies abyss.

This is what she asked for right? To face her fears? To help the autobot cause, to join the fight for her planet?

“We all have roles to play within our own worlds whether it’s fighting a war or simply telling stories.”

She might have been born to fight a war, but she was to tell stories. And another way to tell a story to leave one through actions and shere bravery.

(Y/n) looked back at the deception, a brave face being displayed in contrast to the snot and tears on her face, “I’m never giving you this All Spark! Tell Ultron I said hello!”

“Oh so unwise.” Megatron snarled.

The girl screamed as the mace came down upon her, seeing her off the roof and towards the streets below. Only the impact never happened, she was caught firmly a few seconds later in a gentle grasp incased by metal.

Looking up the girl let out a nervous laugh at the sight of Optimus. “About time Prime! I thought I was dead!”

“I got you, storyteller.” Optimus placed the girl on his shoulder plates before making way down the building, “Hold on to the cube!”

Before the two were almost down to the ground Megatron hurled himself on top of them, throwing Optimus off balance and onto the rubble below. (Y/n) shook on Optimus’ chest holding the cube tightly.

“(Y/N),” Optimus uttered softly gaining the girl's attention, she shot up showing that he had her attention. “You risked your life to protect the Cube. “

She chuckled softly, “A family friend told me something once; No sacrifice, No Victory.”

“If I cannot defeat Megatron, you must push the cube into my chest. I will sacrifice myself to destroy it. Get behind me.”

“Wait-,” the girl started getting down her mind working overtime, “that isn’t right! There’s another logical way to solve this instead of killing you!”

“As of right now we don’t have time to think of one,” Optimus sat up from the missed concrete and broken cars, “I will say it has been an honor meeting you Storyteller.”

Turning to the war terrorist Optimus stood proudly ready to engage, “It’s you and me Megatron”

“No, it’s just me Prime.” Megatron snarled, sword at the ready.

“At the end of this day, one shall stand, one shall fall.”

“You still fight for the weak! That is why you lose!” Megatron growled before throwing Optimus to the other side of the building.

(Y/n) took cover in the chaos watching the two leaders fight. One good, one evil- the earth hanging in the balance along with a human shuffling about with a weapon or a source of life to be given. Megatron threw the Prime once again, causing (Y/n) to shout as it was too close for comfort.

“No no no no-“ Optimus wasn’t doing so well in the fight, making (Y/n)s nerves on edge, they had to have help come in from somewhere. Just as the girl was losing hope reinforcements arrived with soldiers flooding in, shooting and firing at Megatron the best they could. Now with having the upperhand Optimus was able to gain advantage giving hit after hit trying to overwhelm the Decipticon Leader.

“Damn you! Wretched thing! It’s Mine! All Spark!” Megagtron turn towards her, her stance ridged against the car watching the fight closely. She gripped the cube in frustration trying to think of a quick solution.

“(Y/n)! Put the Cube in my chest! Now!” Optimus ordered.

Wait ...if Optimus can die from the cube in his chest surely-.

(Y/n) stood up her decision final before looking over at the terrorist who’s plagued her whole life the moment she was told the stories about him. The good all the way to his genius crimes. She knew from this point forward, she couldn’t allow him the luxury of hiring or causing fear no longer. Autobot of deception alike.

“You want this fucking cube! Take it!”

“No, (Y/n)!”

The girl held up the cube to the Deceptions chest watching it light aflame with vigor along with the cube disengaging before her very eyes. Megatron shook and groaned the once blue spark tuning red, eating itself from the inside out, causing him to convulse on the ground painfully. The leader turned his head, reaching out towards her one more time before his red eyes dimmed. Lifeless.

Optimus walked over, seeming to be in a mix of disbelief and despair as he looked at the dead cybertronian before him, “You left me no choice, brother.”

(Y/n) watched the other Autobots crowded around, all seeming to be accounted for, except one black and yellow mech that was always on the back of her mind. Was he safe? Has his condition worsened? What about Sam and Mikaela?

Optimus drew the girl from her thoughts as he kneeled before her, “(Y/n), I owe you my life. We are in your debt.”

The girl shook her head, “No thank you, for believing in me.”

A car rolling to a stop catches the girl's attention, along with the car doors swinging open crazily. It was only a moment before the girl was tackled to the ground by Sam, the boy was shaking his breaking laborer as he held the girl's face in his hands. A second passed the two childhood best friends looking at one another before (Y/n) broke out into a laugh tears falling down her face before enveloping the make in an embrace.

“Did I do good Lord Witwicky?”

“You did better than good, you were fricken’ amazing. A better hero than I could ever be.”

“Alright move over!” Mikeala pushes Sam away slightly before planting a soft kiss on the girl's cheek before enveloping her in a hug. “Don’t ever do some dumb shit like that for a while okay?”

“A while?” (Y/n) giggled, “You act like I’m gonna do it more often?”

Banes smirked, “Knowing your predicament I wouldn’t be surprised if this is going to be your whole life.”

A whirr and a shift on the truck drags the girls attention to a flash of black and yellow. Her eyes watered over letting tears fall as eyes meet optics. She shakily walked over to Bumblebee, scared that if she breathed too hard the illusion of seeing her new friend would disappear as fast as he appeared behind her at that food truck.

Jazz leaned down slightly nudging bumblebee’s shoulder, “You gonna say something good?”

Ironhide gave a disapproving look, “don’t encourage that at this very moment. The girl almost died.”

The second in command nearly shrugged, before both mechs chuckled seeing how Bumblebee's door wings moved slightly in embarrassment. The scout wouldn't lie if the girl had been on helm the whole battle. Wondering if she was okay, if she remembered how to breathe, if Optimus got her in time-there were too many factors to consider. But here the girl was before him, still alive. One thing about humans they were clearly fragile from what he knows, but Primus-never had he thought this was a pleasing sight to see. The girl's hair was a mess, tears streamed down her cheeks-she a mess. And that's what made her perfect.

“Y-you’re okay,” (Y/n) sniffled. She placed her cut up hand on the mechs arm a soft nervous laugh leaving her lips, “I was so worried,”

Bumblebee simply let out a whirr of a sigh, basking in the attention the girl was giving him. He leaned down slightly to get a better view of her, only to be caught off guard with her wrapping her arms around his helm, cheek to faceplate. The mech's body grew warm-very aware of the stares from his fellow comrades that would most definitely tease him about it later.

She let go, a wide true smile on her face, “Thank you for everything Bee. Once Ratchet gets you fixed up, let's read some more at home yeah?”

The mech's door wings shot up excitedly. Was she-was she asking to see him more often? She wanted to spend time with him-outside of the assignment given to him!

Optimus stepped forward drawing attention of the other participants present, “We have lost comrades, but have gained new ones. Thank you, all of you. You honor us with your bravery.”

“Permission to speak, sir?” Bumblebee switched between channels settling on the temporary voice ratchet gave him a few years ago in a scrap heap. It wasn't his true voice-but it was something.

“Permission granted, old friend.”

“You speak now?” Sam said ludicrously. Mikeala broke out into a laugh along with (Y/n) in response, The teen boy looked back and forth between them, “Are you seriously laughing-he's been using the radio!”

(Y/n) shoved Sam lightly, “I love him using the radio. It adds character.”

The scout perked up at that, his decision final. “I wish to stay with the girl and the boy.”

Upon hearing the scouts request Optimus looked down at Sam and (Y/n). He wasn't against the mech being with the two teens in fact he would like to encourage it. Bumblebee had to grow up at an early age, not being allowed the luxuries of having fun with others his age. Maybe this would be a great start for a new beginning for him. “If that is their choice.”

The two friends looked at one another, wide smiles upon their faces.

“Yes.”

“Of course.”

Bumblebee whirred happily with his charges' decisions. Mentally already preparing himself for the endless summer of fun they were going to have. First he was going to need his legs of course…

(Y/n) let out a yawn shocking Sam and Mikeala, “okay, this is all great but my battery is running low and i need three days worth of sleep for sure.”

Sam ran a hand down his face, “You couldn't just bask in the moment huh?”

“No. We all have our limits Samuel. We just saved the fucking world, I think we deserve some sleep.”

#bumblebee x black reader #bumblebee x reader #transformers bayverse #transformers bumblebee #sam witwicky #mikeala banes #transfromers #optimus prime #honeybee #Spotify

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baduzzxy · 1 month

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heyyyy

i couldn’t hind in your page anywhere on your page if you take requests or not so this isn’t a request u less you want it to be😭😭

but i was reading the second dad!gaz piece (LITERALLY LOVE BTW, ITS ADORABLE£) and i raise you one more. Dad!gaz sitting his daughter down and trying to help her appreciate her curls after she comes home one day wanting straight hair, yes s this is extremely self indulgent as that was me as a kid

SENDING MY LOVE, LOOK AFTER YOURSELF MWAH MWAH

hiiii yes yes yes i love requests !!!!!

thank you for requesting this lol it lowkey healed my inner kid as well bc i grew up getting bullied for my confusing mix of curly/wavy hair i literally go to school with sunflower oil in my hair to atleast make it a bit STRAIGHT and damn bro my hair STANK. so yeah i got picked on a lot and writing this healed me. i love u vro tnx for requesting this again.

dad!141 x mama!reader series

it’s a sunny weekend, and his baby deemed it to be park day! the now 4 year old running around the house with her socked feet to get ready for the day.

that’s what usually happens.

it’s different today, no pitter patter of feet excitedly zooming around the house, just silence. Imagine the worry you and Gaz had when you knocked on your princess’s door and all you heard were muffled sniffles, got dad!Gaz almost kicking the door down, the sound of his baby girl in distress activated his fight or flight response immediately.

you find her infront of the lil wooden vanity uncle Soap made her, detangling brush on her left hand, and the mess of her brushed out curls on the right, clutching in frustration.

Oh how your heart dropped at the sight, walking to kneel infront of your daughter as sobs racks through her, her dada following suite to drop onto his knees and ready to investigate what happened, and why it happened, and potentially, who happened.

you and Kyle shared a soft, and finally understanding look, as you listen to her tiny sobs, how she wanted to look like her playmates, straight strands of hair everywhere she goes, how sometimes she feels so left out when they play their little dollies on the sandbox. It breaks your heart to see your daughter get insecure of her beautiful curls, why, you adore them! you tell her, i love them best! especially since you’ve got them from dada! Her watery eyes look up to her dad, bottom lip still trembling.

You watch him take a deep breath, nothing could have prepared him for this moment, but he pushes through- tells his baby to look at you, my darling, my sweetest girl. He runs a hand through her brushed out curls, your hair is unique, my love. For you to compare your gorgeous curls to- to- no hate to their straight hair my love but, gosh! that is so scandalous!

you almost audibly let out a sigh of relief as she giggles at her dada’s antics, slowly but surely leaving the room as your husband guides her how to properly take care of her hair, some hair mask here, some mousse right there.

And at the moment you stand by the door to leave, you glance at the two light of your life, a wink and a kiss blown to you by your husband, you giddily catch it and place it on your chest.

#cod x reader #cod x you #cod modern warfare #kyle gaz garrick #cod kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #sergeant kyle gaz garrick #gaz nation #gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #dad!Gaz #dad!Gaz x mama!Reader

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 9 months

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you're trans, right? how did you come out to your parents? how did it go? how would you recommend someone go about doing it if they aren't sure how their parents are going to react? (positive to other people's kids being trans, dislike trans women in sports, generally vote democratic). i'm ftm.

sorry if this is too personal or already been answered or something

-- aar

Lee says:

As a matter of fact, I am indeed trans! I specifically identify as genderqueer, non-binary, transmasculine, transgender, and transsexual, although that's neither here nor there.

I actually didn't come out to my parents-- I came out to my friends, and then more publicly to my classmates at school. Then one of my classmates told her parents about me being trans, and that parent met my parents at a party and mentioned that I was trans. Unfortunately it just so happened that while they were at the party and out of the house, I took the opportunity to cut my hair short at home. Yikes!

Anyway, I would fully recommend actually coming out over being outed, if you have the choice, because then you have some control over the start of the conversation and can initially let them know whatever you want them to know.

As always, safety comes first. Do not come out if you do not think you will be safe. If there's any risk of harm or severe negative consequences, you should wait to come out until you're in a more secure position, like being 18 or older, financially independent, not living at home, or at the very least, having a support system in place like a trusted therapist who can help you deal with the repercussions of coming out.

There's a difference between being genuinely unsafe and feeling uncomfortable. Most people will feel their fight-or-flight anxiety response kick in when they have a really scary and stressful conversation, especially when they're talking with someone who means a lot to them and has a lot of authority in their life. But being anxious about their reaction might make something feel unsafe, emotionally, even if you logically know that you are safe and they will not kick you out, abuse you, etc.

That doesn't mean that your feelings aren't real feelings though. If you think that you would not be able to cope if your parents don't immediately and fully accept and support you, then maybe it isn't the right time to come out either. Your emotional well being is important, and if you would be unsafe as a result of mental illness/extreme distress after coming out (if your parent's reaction isn't what you had hoped it would be) then you should consider that to be just as important as if you were physically in danger from an external source. After you've had some time and therapy and got re-stabilized then you can reconsider coming out.

Let's say that you've decided to proceed with coming out. The next step is to continue to gauge their attitudes. You've already observed some of their views. This can be a good starting point to understand how they might react. Remember, though, that parents' reactions to their own child can sometimes be different from their general opinions. So they might be fine with your trans friends, but not be fine with you being trans yourself.

You can't fully predict what will happen, but making sure you have a sense of what they currently think might help a little-- if the topic hasn't come up in over a year and you're working off of what you remember them saying far in the past, it's possible their views have changed by now.

But either way, you'll never really know what will happen after you come out, so if you want to do it, you just gotta go for it.

Now it's time to prepare. You may want to have resources ready for your parents, so looking to find those resources should be your next step. Are there local support groups for parents of trans kids and do you know of any peers whose parents have attended? They might have questions or misconceptions about being a trans man, so be ready to share some basic 101 information with them and don't assume they understand what it really means to be trans. Websites, books, or even contact information for a knowledgeable counselor can be helpful.

Think about what you want to say beforehand. What's the point of coming out? Do you want something to change, like having them call you a different name, use different pronouns, buy you different clothes? Do you want them to understand the nuances of your identity and know the right terms and words to use and what terms and words are offensive? Think about all of your goals, and then write down the key points you want to get down.

This is the time to consider your answers to the questions they might ask you, like "how long have you felt this way," "do you plan on medically transitioning," "what does this mean for your sexual orientation," etc. Even if you don't know all the answers yet and are still figuring yourself out, you want to have an idea of what you'll tell them, even if it's just "I don't know yet, I'm still figuring it out".

I'm personally not a fan of gimmicky/"cute" ways of coming out when you aren't sure whether your family will be accepting. So I would recommend just using a letter to initially come out if you're worried about getting overwhelmed or forgetting important details, and being prepared to follow that up by having a sit-down conversation.

Have a support system in place. This could be friends, other family members, teachers, counselors, or online communities who understand and support your identity. I always recommend scheduling an event with friends either for directly after you come out so you have an excuse to leave the conversation and go, or at least for the next day so you can decompress and discuss it with people who support you.

When you're as ready as you can be, choose the right moment. Find a time when your parents are likely to be calm and not preoccupied with other stressors (so not on their birthday, a major holiday, etc) and either leave the letter for them or ask them if they are available to have an important conversation.

This might not always be possible, but a peaceful environment can facilitate a better conversation. Choose a time and place where you feel safe and where you won't be interrupted. This could be at home during a quiet weekend afternoon, an evening after dinner, or during a walk together, depending on your family dynamics.

Finally, it's time to have the conversation. You should be clear and direct. Tell them "I'm transgender and that means I feel I am a man," or whatever language you feel comfortable with. Don't hint at it because they might not know what you're trying to tell them, just tell them exactly what you want to say.

It’s okay to admit if you don’t have all the answers yet. Transitioning is a journey, and it's fine to be figuring things out as you go.

But if that isn't the case for you, and you are sure, then you should be ready to stand up for yourself and tell them that. They might react positively, negatively, or be unsure, but their feelings are not your fault/your responsibility because you're living true to yourself. It's okay if they need time to process the information, but don't back down and let them railroad you into saying that you're not sure or didn't mean it if you are sure and do mean it.

Finally, be prepared for the long haul. Understand that your parents might need time to fully grasp and accept your identity. Patience can be challenging but is often necessary since it can take several months to years before they come around and truly support you. That means that one conversation is usually not enough. Be open to ongoing discussions and expect them to be sometimes awkward.

We have a coming out page with more info, although some of the links are old and broke (I promise I'll get to fixing it some day!)

Followers, any advice for anon?

#Lee says #coming out #ftm

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theworldwalkerswols · 2 years

Photo

Alt text: Please note repeated tags and numbered tweets indicating thread progression have been omitted.

Twitter thread by user G’raha Tia @/graha_tia on Jan 1, 2022

RADZ-AT-HAN SCENE ANALYSIS: G'RAHA TAKES CHARGE (and makes the fans collapse into a collective sobbing heap)

G'raha's flight, fight, or freeze response is 'Assume Full Command and Take Charge of the Situation' and I think it's the most amazing thing.

The guy is surrounded by people who are literally exploding into horrifying, rampaging monsters & the leader of those people was just devoured alive in front of him, and he kicks into high gear & gains control of everybody in under twenty seconds.

It shows his leadership experience as the Exarch, and how many crises and horrors he must have endured throughout his time during the 8th Umbral Calamity and the Flood of Light on the First. Everything about the scene is so perfectly done, too.

G'raha doesn't just pull out his weapon and start screaming orders - he positions himself in the middle of the space so everyone can have a clear line of sight to him, and he to them. This not only makes it easier for everyone visually, but places him at a vulnerable yet defendable point of reference - everyone (including the Blasphemies) can get to him with relative ease and he, as both a healer and combatant, can get to them quickly if needed. He straightens his posture, pulls back his shoulders, tucks his chin a little, and starts speaking slowly from his chest and diaphragm-which drops his pitch half an octave, adding bass & power, and makes his voice carry without much effort and with absolute clarity over the shrieks of the Blasphemies and the sounds of fighting.

His commands are simple & concise, which is vastly different from his normal talkative demeanor & shows his familiarity with similar situations - after all, it's hard for people in crisis mode to listen & process anything complicated. He's able to break things down to short, digestable phrases: "defend this point", "run here for safety", "REMAIN CALM," and makes it very easy for people both panicking & fighting for their lives to understand & follow.

He has such a strong presence that everyone around just instinctively listens - not a single person questions his authority or decisions, despite most of them having no clue who he is. He establishes himself immediately as a steady rock in the middle of the (almost literal) storm, and even the people who don't know him can feel his reliability & gravitate towards it. The entire scene is just absolutely perfect to me, from the animation & cinematography, to the superb voice acting, to the music and sound design (the cries of the Blasphemies [were] positively bone chilling)... Phenomenal, and one of my favorites from the expansion, not only because it's G'raha.

A visceral, horrifying experience that compounded & solidified the dire nature of the situation into players' minds, and started a long chain of even more terrifying scenes of tragedy (because objectively the Palaka's Stand arc was one of the most distressing).

But despite the fear & dread the story always reminded us that even the darkest moments had light.

Whether it was G'raha standing tall in Radz-At-Han, the WoL & twins fighting their way to Palaka's Stand, or even dear Matsya & the teachings of his faith--it was a constant, well-executed reminder to keep the hope.

Anyways thanks for coming to my TED talk!

I'm so happy to have experienced such a phenomenal, thought-provoking, heartfelt story and honestly have much more to say about everything, but perhaps that'll be for another time. <3

Attached at the end of the thread is a meme image of a man sitting at a table on a campus. The sign on the table reads “ENDWALKER IS THE BEST YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND”

alt text end.

This thread perfectly encapsulates why this moment was so powerful! It also is so COMPLICATED, character wise, because just before he takes charge, he sighs and it sounds distorted to me, like the voices of those who are beginning to succumb.

#Endwalker spoilers #G'raha Tia #FFXIV headcanons

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cult-of-the-eye · 8 months

Text

Jon angst!! He gets a therapist. It makes him worse.

tw: grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms, scars

“So how have you been?”

The question is a completely anticipated one. Jon enjoys the structure of the sessions. The chairs are always facing each other and slightly uncomfortable, the sun is streaming through the window overlooking the car park and she always asks Jon how he’s been. And he always provides the same answer.

“Alright.”

“Yeah?”

His hands smooth over the scar on his thumb. Soothing circles over what was far from a comforting experience.

“It’s been…difficult.”

“In what way?”

Many. He wants to say. Abruptness and off-putting behaviours are out of place at a therapist’s office. She’s trying to help you, Martin would coax him through his thoughts like a feral cat out of an alley.

“I guess, I just-”

She nodded. It wasn’t tea and soft looks but it would have to do.

“I was in the supermarket and I thought I heard Tim’s voice. I left things…badly and it was completely my fault, but I…I don’t know. I just really believed it was him.”

“That must’ve been tough.”

Such a cliche, therapist thing to say. They can’t empathise so they just provide sympathetic looks and synonyms for difficult. Martin’s not exactly here to stop him from hating her in his mind.

“What did you do?”

Jon took a second to remember. The whole scene felt like thinking through fog. Pulling his memories out of his brain with a pitchfork. How he felt stayed with him. It wasn’t too different to how he currently felt.

“I…froze. It was like…it was like all the bones in my body were…calling out for something.”

“Yeah?”

“But I knew I couldn’t reach it, so I froze. I think, my body made the decision for me.”

“It sounds like your fight or flight response kicked in. It’s a way, as you’ve put it so well, of your body taking care of you.”

His body had weathered damage after after. It bore scars of worse and better times and Jon could barely stand to look at it some days. See the way they curved around him, more gentle than any hand had in a while. It disgusted him.

“Maybe.”

“You’re allowed to disagree with me, Jon. This is an open space. You can share how you feel with no repercussions.”

“It isn’t quite an open space when you don’t know anything about me.”

Martin would be so disappointed in him. But Martin wasn’t here.

“Did I say something to upset you?”

Jon groaned in frustration. His hand ground into his thumb, in dizzyingly strong patterns.

“You didn’t say anything to frustrate me. I just- I need to have something and I can’t get it back.”

“That makes sense, Jon. I understand your reaction.”

He nodded, curtly. A small jolt of the head. Barely passing for an acknowledgement.

“What is it that you can’t have?”

Sasha. Tim. Martin.

“Sleep. No chronic pain. A good cup of tea.”

“Would that make you feel better?”

It was that question that played and replayed through his head. He walked to the tube, tossing it around in his head like one of those tennis balls that Tim always had. The effectiveness of this therapy couldn’t be discerned so soon, as Georgie was quick to remind him. But this was the first time something could be accused of sticking.

The tube was packed. That’s why he got off early. Sensory issues had been playing up all day, he had felt it from the moment he woke up. Walking was clearly the best option, here. And if he stopped for a couple of minutes to catch his breath, who would blame him? His cane could immediately clear up any suspicion around that. The house in front of him hadn’t had people in it for 6 months and 11 days exactly. No one would even notice how scheduled these rest breaks had become.

She was right. A good night’s sleep and some paracetamol wouldn’t make him feel better.

Getting them back, however, would.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin k blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #georgie barker #tma fic #tma angst #jonathan sims has a cane #jonathan sims has chronic pain #tw grief #tw mental illness #what if this man went to therapy #what if it made him worse

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ghostlee · 4 months

Note

That is adorable omg

My brain is going to be filled with this among us idea now send help dusjdiajxjsk

-🪐

Here’s another idea to fill your head rent free.

———

Tickle Monster

Hermitcraft x Amongus Adaptation

Words: 1,335

Lee!Etho

Ler!Impulse

———

Etho made his way down the hall towards O2 as fast as his legs could carry him, his boots making a quick *tak tak tak tak* sound on the metal flooring of the spaceship as he ran.

There was a blaring alarm sounding out over the whole intercom system of the ship and he had a sensor on his arm that was vibrating every few seconds and lighting up with a brilliant flashing red hue.

He was mere feet from the O2 Panel as he came skidding to a stop and started to push in the code to fix the O2 system, damn someone was really trying to kill them.

The second Etho typed in the last number and hit enter he heard a small hissing noise as the O2 started to flow back out of piping.

The white haired man was soon greeted with the comforting ambiance of the ships engines as the alarms stopped.

He reached up to push the release on his helmet and folded it back so he could breathe fresh air.

Sighing and looking out the door to his right he saw the corridor he had just run in from. Suddenly another sound invaded his ears as he heard a creaking noise with a metal slam shortly after it.

Tilting his head in confusion he took a step forward out into the hallway again. There was a faint blueish green glow that illuminated Etho from behind as he took in silence waiting for more noise to make itself heard.

Soon slow footsteps could be heard creeping their way down the hall around the corner.

Etho suddenly felt butterflies in his stomach triggering a fight or flight response as he felt something was off about the footsteps.

Not wanting to make his presence known he quietly took a step back into the O2 room and pressed his back against the wall facing away from the hallway.

The footsteps approached agonizingly as Etho covered his mouth with his hand to quiet down his quickening breathing.

And then the footsteps stopped, came to an abrupt halt as everything stood in a standstill for what felt like an eternity.

All at once Etho was plunged into darkness as the LEDs over his head went out with a soft click. Only the dim greenish blue panels of the radar disks lighting up the ceiling casting just enough light over the room to make ethos heart start beating faster due to the eerie vibe of the now dark room.

Another few seconds went by when Etho heard another few taks of footsteps on the flooring as they got closer.

Suddenly Etho felt a clawed hand grab onto the sleeve of his space suit and pull him towards its chest as he let out an undignified yelp and his body kicked into immediate flight mode as he started trying to squirm and get away from whatever grabbed onto him.

The monster although scary, gently managed to get Etho on the ground as the boy flailed unable to see much as he kicked and thrashed. “P-Please!! Don’t do this!” Etho started to plea as he felt his heart start beating.

What Etho didn’t expect however was to feel a scritching sensation around his torso. Etho felt giggles start bubbling up as he covered his mouth, his mind now in this weird crossroad, unsure if he was in danger or not.

As Etho felt more and more prodding and poking into his sides he started to relax more and let his eyes trail down to the clawed hand that seemed to be testing the waters on Etho. “W-What are you doing?” Etho asked as the monster used its claw to start squeezing his sides quickly but gently as Ethos back arched and he let out a small strangled bark of a laugh and reached his hand out to grab onto the clawed hand.

The monster stopped for a second before pulling the hand back away from Ethos torso and reaching up to push the release on his helmet too.

“Impulse?!” Etho could barely make out the boys face as he let out a sigh, “dude you scared me half to death!! What were you thinking!!?” Etho cried out happy that it was someone he recognized.

Thats when it clicked in Ethos head as he looked back down at the clawed hand and then back up to Impulses face who smiled gently before showing his monster like teeth to Etho.

“YOU-YOU’RE AN IMPOSTER!!” Etho yelled as he started trying to worm his way out again.

“Shhhhh!! Shhh! I’m not gonna kill you!” Impulse said as he laughed and placed his large clawed hand down next to Ethos shoulder effectively trapping the boy on his back below him.

“I just want the other crewmates to know what could happen-“ Impulse said with a hint of devious charm in his voice.

“What could hap-“ Etho questioned but was suddenly cut off when impulse sat down on Ethos waist and started to scribble his claws all over Ethos stomach.

“WhahahhAHAHAIT!! N-Nohohohohoh!” Etho started giggling as he squirmed around under impulse.

Etho reflexively reached his hands out to grab onto impulses hands as he tried to pull the claws away from his tummy.

Impulse seized the opportunity and grabbed hold of ethos wrists and used his impostor abilities to expose a second pair of arms.

Reaching up he pinned Ethos hands above his head and used the other new set of clawed hands to squeeze quickly at Ethos sides feeling the boy arch his back repeatedly into his hands again and again.

“IMPUHAHAHAHLASE NOHAHAHAHAAT THEHEHEHERE!” Etho screeched when he felt the claws wiggle over his ribs. Even while the spacesuit could protect his body, it seemingly did nothing to dull the tickling on his torso.

Impulse dragged his fingers down to ethos hip bones to dig his thumbs gently into the little spaces as Etho threw his head back and his laughter became a bit more hysterical.

“NAHAHAHAHAH IMPULSEHEHEHEH!!” Etho screamed as he pulled desperately at his arms.

“I wonder if you can feel raspberries through the space suit?” Impulse nonchalantly asked as if the boy he was destroying with tickles wasn’t right below him at his mercy.

“N-NOHAHAHAH DONOHONT!” Etho yelped as he felt impulses hands latch onto his sides and pull his stomach up towards him by a few inches making Ethos back arch.

Impulse took in a big breath of air as he blew a long raspberry right on Ethos tummy, and even though the space suit Etho could feel the vibration as he screeched and kicked his feet uselessly feeling his boots tak against the flooring again.

Impulse grinned and released Ethos arms as they quickly shot down to protect his stomach.

Taking a second to stand back up, impulse backed up for a second before crouching back down and giving Etho a moment to catch his breath as he watched the boys legs come up to his chest and the giggles died down.

“T-Thahahat was evil!!” Etho yelled with a smile on his face.

“Yeah sorta, impostor duties.” Impulse said as he stood back up and held out his hand letting Etho grab it so he could pull the boy back to his feet.

“Don’t tell a soul, otherwise Mr.TickleMonster will be back, Capeesh?” Impulse grinned as he flashed Etho a smile and clicked his helmet on before holding up a hand a waving goodbye as he walked out of the O2 room and rounded the corner leaving Etho completely flabbergasted.

Etho rubbed a hand over his stomach to get the rest of the phantom tickles away as he fought to keep the stupid grin off his face, thank god he wore a mask otherwise he’d have to go around lookin like a kid in a candy store after that onslaught for awhile.

“Well I know who to stay away from.” Etho laughed as he started his trek back down the hall in the opposite direction that impulse went in.

———

I literally just wrote this all as soon as I saw this ask come in so sorry if it’s badly written.

But I hope you enjoyed your little dose of Lee!Etho

#tickles #tickle talk #ghostleetickles #ghostleebeingagremlin #tickle #lee #ler #tummy tickles #lee!ethoslab #ler!impulse #lee!etho #hermitcraft tickle #amongustickle

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purpleheartskies · 11 months

Text

One thing that's always bothered me after s3 came out is the claim that Robby didn't have remorse after the school fight.

First off, it was very clear from Robby's demeanor in his scene with Daniel at the rehab center that Robby was very truly remorseful. Also, Robby clearly took accountability. He literally stated what he had done.

"But I caused all of this. I'm the one who kicked Miguel..."

It's also always important to call out that it had been an accident. Miguel had without a doubt pushed Robby to his limit. Robby reacted within seconds of Miguel letting go. It's ridiculous that some people say that Robby should have calmed down immediately after Miguel let go. Let's focus on this for a bit. According to some people, Robby isn't supposed to have very human emotions or have very human responses after having been in a fight like that after being attacked. Would those same people be able to calm down immediately? No. Plain and simple. Even Robby running away afterwards was very understandable because (1) "flight" response and (2) his parents are useless and had recently left him to starve for months and Daniel had just disowned him again. He knows he's alone. He ran out of fear, not malice. Robby had injured Miguel by accident, but he still had remorse for doing so. Other characters have intentionally physically hurt him, and those characters have yet to have remorse or take accountability even by the end of s5. After the school fight, it took time for Robby to calm down, which is a realistic portrayal of trauma responses because they can last for some time even. For example, in s4 Robby stayed in his "fight response" of wanting to do whatever it takes to win the tournament for months, until after his match with Kenny.

Back to the scene with Daniel. Right after Robby clearly took accountability about it with Daniel, even refusing to let Daniel take the blame, Daniel ambushed Robby with the cops. Even though Daniel hadn't planned for it to be an ambush like it became, it's especially important that Daniel hadn't talked to Robby first before calling the cops. Daniel didn't give Robby that time, space, and trust to make the decision on his own. Like I talk about in my post about Robby being like the wild rare bonsai tree, Daniel made it clear that he doesn't have faith in Robby.

Now, as parents and adults, Johnny and Shannon are useless to Robby. Johnny had spent maybe a couple of hours looking for Robby before giving up, and that was only after Daniel went to Johnny and convinced him to help after 2 weeks of Johnny not doing anything useful. Shannon seemed to have immediately called Daniel after Robby showed up at the rehab center and just handed Robby over to Daniel, letting him handle everything. And what did Daniel do? See the above.

Johnny's reaction when Robby asked him where he'd been for over one month after their "one good day" together before the school fight. Johnny literally has no legitimate response he could give Robby.

So the 3 adults Robby was supposed to rely on were the complete opposite of truly supportive or helpful. They weren't there for him like he needed them to be.

In all of this, some people are like "Robby didn't have remorse?" Really? Robby had been experiencing trauma after trauma, including those inflicted on him by these "caring" adults (neglect and abandonment are traumas too). Robby went into survival mode. He has no one, and he had to look after himself. He didn't have adults or friends or anyone who truly supported him. It's not that he didn't have remorse or didn't care. He literally had to focus on keeping it together and making it through the whole situation, including juvie, on his own.

When Sam made her speech at the city council meeting in s3e8 and said,

"Sometimes the scars you can't see are the ones that hurt the most"

I thought of Robby. And, as I talk about in Robby's rejection of toxic empowerment post, Robby's behavior later in the episode is exactly the result of that: his scars that no one sees. His trauma responses, including that "fight" response at Miyagi-Do, are the result of hurt. Robby had been in an unsafe, traumatizing environment for months, and within minutes of seeing Miguel for the first time, Mr. "Strike First" Miguel stepped up and challenged Robby even though Robby had told him to stay out of it. Robby had been keeping his distance from Sam and his anger under control. Miguel was once again worsening a situation that was under control. And before this scene, Miguel had hurt him that day in school and at the s1 avt and at the canyon party. Robby's history with Miguel is mostly Miguel hurting him. It's so ironic that Miguel made that speech at the city council meeting, talking only about his injury and recovery and leaving out that he had assaulted Robby first and escalated the situation in school.

Miguel's actions leading to Robby accidentally injuring him. Miguel had attacked Robby, choked him at one point, attacked him again, even purposely kicked him into the railing at one point, and then was going to break his arm for no reason at all. Of course, Miguel left all of this and his taunts to Robby out of his speech to the city council, portraying himself as only a victim in the fight.

He also talked about bullying as only being a victim of it, but completely disregarded his own past actions against Robby. Even trouncing the Miyagi-Do demonstration at Valley Fest had been an act of bullying, something Miguel had done to not just Robby but to Sam as well. Miguel had been proud of what he'd done, and then went back to trying to win Sam back soon afterwards. Miguel later implied to Robby that Miguel himself isn't an asshole, never acknowledging anything he'd done to hurt Robby. Whenever I watch Miguel's city council speech, I roll my eyes. I also find it so funny (in an ironic way) that both Kreese and Miguel spoke about themselves as well-intentioned heroes who believe that they're innocent and just do good in the world, yet they both cause and have caused so much hurt. They've given and continue to give people scars that can't be seen.

"You did it, Sensei!"

"No, WE did it!"

Miguel deflecting his culpability onto Johnny, despite Miguel's own intentions being to ruin the Miyagi-Do demonstration. He also deflected his culpability onto Johnny during the s1 avt and after the school fight.

Based on comments since s3 about Robby not having remorse about Miguel's injury or not feeling sorry for Johnny or not being understanding of Johnny abandoning him for Miguel or not agreeing with Daniel for not believing in him, some fans apparently believe that Robby isn't allowed to have emotions that don't suit what they want him to feel. It's not just Johnny that wants this from Robby. It's some fans too. Robby isn't allowed to put himself first, even when he is enduring traumas that these other characters inflict on him.

Also, where is Miguel's remorse? In s5, he still didn't have any remorse or take accountability. Instead he took his pound of flesh as if he had always been entitled to it. He's definitely acted that way since s1, before the school fight. Johnny has also just moved on and wants Robby to do the same and keep his negative emotions to himself or he's going to get abandoned again. Even Daniel just wanted Robby to accept what Daniel had done to him after the school fight without trying to understand Robby. All of this is consistent behavior by these characters even in s5.

Robby was the one eventually making things right with the others. The others didn't do anything to make things right with him. But some people still comment that Robby had no remorse. Or they only like Robby now that he took a beating from Miguel with Johnny's blessing, bowed his head in defeat, and is now expressing only the feelings that Johnny, Miguel, Daniel, and others want him to show.

Robby reluctantly agreeing that all is good now between him and Miguel to appease Johnny.

The other characters aside, some fans themselves don't want Robby to have emotions that make sense for what he's experiencing. He is given those emotions though. And the writers confirmed that those emotions are all still there and that things aren't resolved. Robby burying the egg to keep it safe during Chozen's lesson was a clear representation of how Robby keeps himself safe too: hiding who he really is by hiding his emotions to feel safe and accepted. The other kids also protected their eggs the way they handle situations too: Miguel is possessive/controlling, like he is in his relationships with Sam and Johnny; Sam thinks she's got things covered but isn't cautious enough, like when she didn't plan beyond having enough numbers for the arcade fight (she didn't consider that more Cobras might show up); Anthony gives in easily, like he did with his friends and bullied Kenny; Hawk is overconfident and doesn't consider that his opponent might do something unexpected, like he is later with Kenny during the trials; etc...

We have 5 seasons of Robby experiencing trauma after trauma. Robby's emotions due to his traumas have always been valid, but people dismiss his traumas and his emotions. The double standard in the fandom is also blatant. For example, Miguel pushes Johnny away and Johnny runs after him. People praise Johnny for being a "father" to Miguel. Robby pushes Johnny away and Johnny doesn't run after him. People excuse Johnny for this and blame Robby for pushing him away. Also, people praise Johnny running after Miguel to bring him home safe as Johnny showing "fatherly love" for Miguel, while people dismiss Johnny tricking, lying to, and gaslighting Robby to use him to get Miguel back as okay. Some even call it Johnny "trying" with Robby. The blatant contrast in how Johnny prioritizes Miguel and his emotions over Robby and his emotions is there for anyone to see throughout s5 as well. If people wanted to have empathy for Robby, they could choose to.

"There's nothing complicated about it. You had a choice and you chose."

(These are general thoughts and not directed at anyone in particular.)

(Note: Please don't reblog/reply with any dismissive comments/tags about the show writers, the writing, or the serious aspects of the show. Such comments/tags minimize the contents of the post. This blog (link) explains my general thoughts about posting after s5.)

#cobra kai is robby's story #robby keene

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insanelyadd · 1 year

Text

Some Collector Character Analysis

Annoyed by people who say that the Collector's personality changed "for no reason" or who say they preferred him from season 2. Like. There is a reason he changed. He was being abused, manipulated, lied to, for 350+ years. Before that it's implied they were, at the very least, neglected by their family. I don't like when people say they preferred how he acted in season two because he was "actually threatening" or "interesting" or whatever because as someone who knows enough about this kind of thing (and that's all you're getting from me), when I see the Collector in season 2, I see a child who is reacting to their environment.

He was never evil, he was in pain and trying to conform to what he thought was expected of him by the adult that was "taking care" of him, that he thought he was friends with.

People talk about fight or flight, when there's actually three other responses, freeze, friend/fawn, and flop. I propose that the Collector's response is fawn, which is described as

"The fawn response may show up as people-pleasing, even to your detriment. You may use compliance and helpfulness to avoid abuse; you disregard your happiness and well-being no matter how poorly someone treats you. This trauma response is often used to diffuse conflict and return to a feeling of safety."

As another layer to this, I was talking to my therapist about the Collector and I asked her how a child who is very neglected might act, since I HC the Archivists were neglectful to them and also they were trapped in solitary confinement for like 2000 years minimum. And she told me "Well they would have attachment issues" either in that they cannot attach to people at all or they are instantly very attached to people. And I think it's the second one, because we see multiple times that the Collector is immediately trusting of people when he meets them. They didn't like Luz but as soon as they think they have the opportunity to befriend her, they immediately become attached. And obviously there was him trying to befriend Belos even after everything he's done to EVERYONE including them.

So I think it's super believable that they immediately attached to Belos, believing everything he was told, and trying very hard to appease and appeal to him, adopting a persona of cruelty, even if they didn't like it. He was doing it to survive, he was doing it because he was desperate for some form of love or approval.

So when we see him in season 3, the reason he's behaving differently could be multiple things:

They are now attached to King and are trying to behave more like King to appease him because that's how he lived for multiple centuries

He never was genuinely evil or malicious, at least not to the extent that he played that part in season 2, though he potentially had some more callous tendencies due to the circumstances of his family and culture

He is no longer being actively abused and the less stressful environment has drastically improved his mood and mental health

I'm willing to bet it might even be all three at once. When you're in pain you are not your best self, pain makes you behave irrationally, angrily, cruelly, especially when the pain never seems to stop, and it's even worse when you're a child and might not even recognize what's happening to you. Belos being gone, and being around King, who is also a good kid with some occasional Mal-intent, "changed" their personality because they weren't conforming themself to play the stressful role of evil side-kick in an act of self-preservation.

So anyways the Collector is cool and I love them and want to adopt them and get him some therapy.

#the collector #the collecter toh #toh the collector #the owl house #owl house #toh #character analysis #king clawthorne #emperor belos #phillip wittebane #the archivists #toh the archivists #toh spoilers #neglect mention #abuse mention

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perpetuelledaydreaming · 2 years

Text

Ivy| chapter seven

summary: Rooster gets kick on the ribs, Jake gets worried and you're a mess.

listen to: Ghosting- Ariana Grande | idfc- blackbear | Why did it have to be me - Mammia Soundtrack (playlist here)

warning: none for this chapter.

word count: 2.4 k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fii!!

It was one of those mornings, those mornings where you know you didn’t have a good night's sleep, those mornings where your neck is stiff and there’s a slight sense of nausea. You opened your eyes. You'd fallen asleep on the couch, you realized.

You frowned. It’s a peaceful morning and yet something feels strange. You whined softly as you tried to stretch out, trying to move your neck for it to recover from the strange position you slept in, it is only until then that you feel him. You look down to be met by Rooster’s amber hair, he’s leaning into you, holding your legs against his chest, tightly.

You sighed as you recalled the events that unfolded the night before.

The first time you’d kissed Rooster, your whole body seemed like it was buzzing, your heart thudding in such a way that it sounded like a hummingbird. The feeling repeated over and over again during your honeymoon phase, it dulled down as the months passed and then it died completely when you could feel the resentment each time he touched you in the last month of your relationship.

Now, as he gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you from the ground so easily like he did before as he kissed you hard and you kissed him back, it was thudding again hard in your chest. Not from the novelty of it all, no. It felt like before, as if everything was falling into place, it felt good and at the same time, it also felt so wrong.

And yet you don’t stop.

It’s strange. It’s strange because you feel like you’re looking for something as your tongues fight for dominance of the kiss like you’re both fighting for each other as if kissing the other harder could turn back time and erase everything that had happened.

Rooster leans both of you down on the couch, too afraid of taking too much time climbing to your room. He can feel like he has you as he did before. His hands sink into your ass as he grinds his pelvis into you, even though the flight suit you can feel him. A strangled moan left your mouth as you feel him, Rooster grunts in response as he repeats the movement before his mouth trailed open mouth kisses along your jawlike, nibbling at the spot beneath your ear, making your whole body quiver.

He quickly takes one of his hands and unzips your flight suit, enough for you to remove the sleeves as he reaches for his back, curling his fist onto his shirt to discard it.

“I’ve missed you, baby,” he whispered as he leaned back to remove his shirt and then you snap awake.

“Rooster,” you murmured as you tried to wiggle out of his hold on your legs. “Rooster, wake up,” you grumble again. He’s a heavy sleeper, you’ve known this since you were kids and yet it somehow surprises you. You rolled your eyes, and with a sigh, you move your legs to the best of your abilities so you kick him in the ribs.

Rooster jolts, wincing harshly and immediately withdrawing, finally freeing you from his hold as you move away from him. He complained as he held his ribs, you watched him with a frown as you pull your knees to your chest and your mind tries to remember what was the last thing you’d told him before you fell asleep.

You were sure that you were making really good points on why you shouldn’t be back together, Rooster refuting each and every one of them as he pulled your legs over his lap while listening to you. It was strange, how the screaming matches would so easily unfold when the cracks in your relationship were getting harder to ignore. Yesterday you talked like you’d done your entire life, it’d been a while.

“What?” he grumbled as he sat down on the couch, eyes still not completely open as your gaze remained on him.

You were trying to decide how you felt about the kiss if you’d enjoyed it or resented it. If you missed Rooster or if you wanted to slap him because he’d done it again, he’d kissed you. And yet you couldn’t blame him, you’d reciprocated even when you knew you shouldn’t.

Because the only thing in your mind was the pressure of Jake’s lips and the scent of wood and lemon that lingered on his skin, that had lingered on yours even. You couldn’t compare it though. You weren’t even sure what your relationship with Jake was, even if you weren’t on talking terms at the moment.

“You need to get out of here,” you finally stated. It’s colder than you meant it to be, but you decided it’s for the best.

He opened his eyes, pushing himself closer to you while scrunching his brows. “Why, what?” he asked, still in a sleepy haze to understand the reason you are kicking him out.

“This isn’t,” you tried at first, unsure of what to say next. “This was a mistake, we shouldn’t have,” you finally decide.

Rooster’s frown deepened. “Kissed?” Rooster scoffed. “It’s just a kiss,”

“It was a mistake,” you cut him off, glaring at him.

Rooster sighed, and he pressed his tongue against his cheek. He wanted to give you space, he had given you the space that you’d asked for. He felt confused, you’d kissed him back the night before, and during the day you’d told him that you’d missed him, that you couldn’t live without him. Not exactly those words, but whatever. It still meant something.

He doesn’t want to bring up the inconsistencies in your actions, or thoughts. He simply nodded as he glanced at the floor searching for his boots. You stay on the couch, watching him get ready to leave. You decide it’s for the best not to move until he’s gone, you know what you need to do now, you just need him to go peacefully.

Bradley decided that he doesn’t. “Sure didn’t feel like it,” he muttered under his breath, referring to what you’d said before.

You narrowed your eyes at him, that’s how your fights usually began. “I’m serious, Bradley,” you state coldly from your place on the couch.

“What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t want this,” you snapped back. It’s harsher than you wish, you could see his expression faltering to hurt for a moment, then back to anger.

“Sure didn’t seem like it yesterday,” Rooster bites back at you. Your frown only turned deeper, you could feel the tone of his voice mocking you. He realized it, pinching the bridge of his nose before he lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry,”

“Good,” you replied. “Now go,”

You’re doing it again, he realized. You’re escaping and running away from him.

“You can’t do this, Brat,” he groaned as he sat on the couch next to you. You watch him carefully. “I have change for you,”

“I don’t need you to change for me, Rooster,” you reply with a frown. “You need to change for yourself and yes, you’re my friend and yes, there might be some residual feelings from our past relationship but I can’t do this, Rooster,”

He sighed, scrunching his brows sternly. Acting like he’s not hurt from hearing the fact that you believed that last night was just residual feelings for him, he doesn’t buy it. Someone with residual feelings from a past relationship wouldn’t have kissed him like that. He stands up and zips his flight suit while you watch him from the couch.

“I don’t agree with you,” Rooster answered. “But I understand that you might be afraid of realizing that it’s a matter of time before we’re back together, we belong together,” he states before opening the door and leaving.

You wondered if he was right. You wondered if he knew you better than you knew yourself. It hurts to think about that. You’d been asking yourself that same thing for so long, ever since Ice passed away you didn’t quite understand, things didn’t quite fit. You’d been all your life acting a certain way for your father, the values that he’d asked, the way that he thought. When he died, you felt like you didn’t have a north.

At least, until you began to see Jake.

Jake.

Before you knew it, your body was moving from the couch into the kitchen where you’d left your phone. It was still too early but you still called him. Tears were streaming down your face as you waited for him to pick up. He did, on the second ring.

By the time you finished the call, you were a mess and Jake was driving to your place as fast as he could.

Jake didn’t knock on the door as he reached your place, after the first few weeks he started seeing you, and you told him where you left the keys. He pushes the door open as fast as he can, and you quickly take a double look as you sit up straight from the couch, wincing at your quick movement.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart” Jake said softly as he closed the door. Your heart beats a little bit faster as you heard the nickname but it also makes you want to cry harder. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head. Yeah, he can see it. You look so broken, the puffy face and your red eyes from crying as you hold your knees to your chest, your entire demeanor felt crushed. It’s strange, seeing you like this. Ice’s daughter, someone even colder than him sometimes never lets her guard down, not even in the presence of your closest friends, and yet he does get to see you like this.

“What happened, baby?” he cooed as he walked to the sofa and sat next to you, quickly pulling you over his lap as he held you. It’s strange, having been apart for two weeks and yet being able to remember exactly how you hold each other.

You want to vomit as you recalled that was what Bradley had called you the night before. You’re filled with guilt and regret, it only manifests through in those stupid tears that fall from your cheeks uncontrollably. You shouldn’t be crying, you should apologize but the words don’t spill out.

You’re so scared that you might break Jake.

“I fucked up so badly,” you finally confessed. Jake's brows scrunched as he listened to you, his whole body tensed up slightly, as he sees from a mile away what happened.

He does, he saw you getting on Rooster’s truck yesterday. He doesn’t want it to be true as he watched you carefully.

“I’m so sorry, Jake,”

He prepared himself to hear it, to hear that you’re probably back with him, to hear that you slept with him. That you’re ready to break it off. He braces for it, he braces for the unspoken words of you aren’t good enough.

“I kissed Bradley yesterday,” you sighed, so quietly that Jake can hardly hear you. “It didn’t mean anything, it didn’t last, please,” you plead, at first unsure of what you pleading for. “Just, please don’t hate me,”

You’re ready for Jake to brush you off of him, to tell you that he doesn’t want you anymore, that you should forget about him.

“Hate you?” Jake asked, his brows furrowed. You don’t understand at first, you’re actually hearing how he could not hate you after what you’d done.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you confessed in a hurry. Jake’s stunned for a moment as he listened to you, his sea-foam eyes scanning over your features.

Jake doesn’t move for a moment. He simply holds your gaze while your heart aches, waiting for him to scream at you and go. He doesn’t. Instead, he places his hand on your neck, cupping it as he brushes his thumb over your cheekbone softly as he brings you to him. You flinch for a moment, Jake waits, examining your features. You’re confused, his heart aches as he thought what you were thinking but then he feels you relaxing against him.

He pressed his lips against yours sweetly. Your whole body knows what to do better than your brain, you quickly move on Jake’s lap as he pulled you closer, your legs on each side of his waist as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing you harder. All the tension in your body fades and you feel like you can breathe properly again.

It’s strange. Everything is so much deeper than usual but so slow. Like you’re trying to buy time to keep kissing like you’re right now. It feels like something just ended but something else just began. There isn’t that urgent rush, there isn’t any horny haze surrounding you, instead, it’s so peaceful, and gentle. He’s forgiving you for what you did, you can feel it, you can feel how he forgives you with his touch, the way he kisses your lips, the way he holds you by the neck so softly.

You break apart from Jake, your nose against his, forehead against his as you breathe softly, eyes closed as if you’re afraid that opening them meant that this was a dream.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “I don’t want to lie to you,”

“I know,” Jake replied nudging your nose with a kiss and pressing a quick peck on your lips. “I’m going to tell you something and I don’t want you to get scared,” he murmured softly as his sea-foam eyes meet yours. “I think I have feelings for you,”

Your eyes widened slightly at the confession. You’d thought about it because you’d realized that something was starting to shift in your relationship with Jake. There’s a warm, full feeling in your heart when you’re around him, there’s no denying it, and yet you feel a bit scared.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” Jake explained as he realized that he had left you speechless. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything right now but I honestly don’t care if anything happened with Rooster if you can assure me that it won’t-”

“I don’t,” you sighed. “I don’t-”

“You don’t have to know right now what you want,” Jake replied. “I really just don’t want to lose you either,”

You nod softly against his forehead, quickly brushing some hair from his forehead and kissing him again. Jake only pulls you closer as he holds you, only then he realized how truly in love with you he is.

He was so fucked.

Taglist: @laracrofted @double-j @inky-sun @alanadetigy @teenwolf01 @beebslebobs @materialgirl01 @daisyhollyxox @piceous21 @elicheel @supernaturaldawning @midnightdevotion @hangrymama @ashann7 @maverick-wingman @snap-crackle-and-pop @ebonyhogan24 @teddyluvs2sing @happypopcornprincess @untoldshortsofthefandoms @xxshea-barnesxx @sweetheart-im-the-boss @je-suis-prest-rachel @teenwolf01 @bregarc @imagineteller1 @abaker74 @lilylilyyyyyy @nemtodd-barnes1923 @loveless-simp @fucktthisworld @deliciouslydisturbed365 @laluneveillesesureux @emma8895eb @tandefeaffe @potato-girl99981 @jstarr86 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mirrorball-6

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aquaheartgirl · 7 months

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One thing I haven't seen anyone touch on yet is a major deciding factor for me: Are we talking about the initial surprise at the exact second you open the door, or are we talking about the lingering effects of the encounter?

I voted walrus as more surprising because if I open the door and see a big fat walrus, it's going to be much more of an immediate shock. I'd be doing a double take. "What the hell is this thing doing here?!" It's right in my face, it probably stinks, it may be confused and aggressive. It might very well trigger my fight-or-flight response on sight. Even if it's just an elaborate prank, unlikely but plausible, that fact will still take a hot minute to process.

Conversely, if I open the door and see a fairy, it's likely to take slightly longer for the surprise factor to kick in. Depending on the size and appearance of the fairy, it might just look like a person in costume. Even if it's a tiny sparkly pixie, it'll take an extra second to spot it and fully take in the reality of it. I'm not necessarily going to immediately think "wtf, a fairy?!" and be mindblown. More likely, I'll INITIALLY think either "Did I forget it's Halloween today?" or "What's that floating in front of me?"

However, if we're talking about the surprise that lingers afterward and the lasting effects on my worldview, fairy is more surprising, no question. I've already had time to figure out how exactly the walrus got to my door; it was probably a prank or some kind of wild mishap. And even IF it's a crazy smart, totally sentient walrus, that at least kind of tracks with... evolution, I guess??? Whereas a fairy will completely shatter my existing worldview. (In a good way. I'd LOVE that! But still - totally shattered.)

#and that is why I voted walrus #but if you voted fairy and it's BECAUSE of the lasting effects?#I TOTALLY understand #fairy vs walrus #ahg

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great20sworld · 2 months

Text

LIVING THE DREAM

A Viktor x Reader fanfiction

Author's note: Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8 and chapter 9 are available in my Tumblr page along with summary.

⚠️ Content warning ⚠️: Violence, injuries, depictions of pain and blood.

Chapter 10: Only weakness greatest strength

_____________________________________

"Look I don't know what your deal is buddy..."

You didn't mean to sound so condescending and self conceited, maybe it was the reflex response you unfortunately possessed in deflecting difficult situations. You had memories of outwitting your competitors by feigning confidence, most of the times it surprisingly works, but this certainly wasn't such an instance. The man grunts angrily, his slightly pendulous nose raising at the tip as his facial muscles contracts into a frown.

"Hand over the golden watch" he spat, contempt in every syllable. "Piltie..."

"No to both, actually!" You wave your hand vaguely as if sending an irritating mosquito on its merry way, not even meeting his gaze as you practically stood in his looming shadow.

"I'm not going to give you the watch buddy, and no- I'm not a...Piltie..."

The latter part of your words makes him unclench his fists and relax his shoulders to a miniscule degree, still the disconcerting veins made you weary.

"Hand over the watch, woman... Or pay the price..." The giant hisses. "I don't like to chit-chat" His teeth grinds against each other.

It was high time that your fight or flight kicks in and you either desperately scratch or bite your attacker or let your legs take you far far away from here, but perhaps your added strength shut the response down, taking the control panel of your brain and toying around with it.

"Sorry bud, it's not for sale." You challenge, smirking.

His teeth bares from the crevices of his lips, scars littering the area, a growl from his throat. "Time to say your prayers!" He swipes with a massive hand in your direction, which you deflect quickly, bending your knees sliding to the gravel filled ground, barely missing his hit.

"I’m giving you a warning buddy..." You smirk, eyes glinting with confidence.

“Let's see if you can talk after I rip your throat out!” the man challenges, the muscles on his back unpleasantly rippling with the rage he felt.

“Now you've done it, bud…”

You could almost see yourself walking away from this field triumphantly, if only anyone was around here to see your victory other than the destructive machines in the distance. Dust swirles as he skids into lower ground, preparing to take you down.

You're not a fighter, not the physical, traditional kind anyways. You would take intellectual battles over punches and kicks any day, but something strikes you- an emotion never felt before coursing through your veins, as you distance yourself from your opponent, for the first time in your life, not because you were scared, but because you needed space to act. As your legs positioned themselves farther apart in defense, and you looked him in the eye, you heard the thrum of your restless heart in your ear. You expect this to be the magic in your action-thriller loving soul.

You were already contemplating what to narrate your victory as, dreaming about how cool you could look- like in the movies, perhaps? Your imagination was running wild, when the man charged at you, his fist drawn back in order to pulverize you when it charges forward.

You sloppily drop to your knees again, rolling out of the way as his feet licks up dust, landing behind him and giving you the opportunity to deliver a powerful blow to his spine- and immediately regret it.

“Oh just…I’m sorry!” You say, as he goes crashing down into the rocky floor, the sickening crunch of rubble pressing against flesh makes you want to squirm in discomfort. It looked like it hurt.

Grunting, he swipes his leg viciously in an attempt to get up and also to kick you. You dodge away quickly, covering beneath a huge boulder. Suddenly, you hear the boulder’s crevices crack and shattering into rubble- he had cracked it into pieces with his bare hands! Turning and getting up, you block two mighty fists thrown your way with every intent on splintering your ribs.

Your arms shook with the sheer intensity of blocking his fists, each of your hands covering each of his fists, his face inches away from yours.

Why was it so…heavier than you thought?

You didn't even have the time to finish the thought before being pushed back roughly, your head hitting the rubbles, nearly making you see stars. Instinctually, your knees bend to kick him away in the chest- it didn't work, but you managed to kick dirt into his eyes, making him growl and slow down before he strangles you, providing you with ample time to scramble to your feet and take cover.

You tap the Chronoporter, anxiously, panting as your knees shook.

“I detect a sharp spike in your heart rate and oxygen intake rate. Are we running a marathon?” The mechanical voice asks innocently.

“No! Chronoporter, we have a problem!” You speak, voice shaking. “My strength…it- it's not working!”

“That's impossible! Your mass and force conditions cannot be altered unless you break the barriers of dimensions, zero gravity or similar circumstances. You haven't traveled anywhere beyond this dimension- I know. I don't see it.” Chronoporter says.

“Zero gravity…” you murmur, eyes going wide in realization.

Last night…

Why was everything from last night coming back to punish you?

First Viktor, and now this…

“Y/N?”

“Uh? Y-yeah, I-I think that zero gravity stuff…did happen.” You stutter.

“Then you're bound to lose almost 45% of the force rates you could instill.”

Your legs shook, yet froze, your hands shaking with fear. Forty five percent, against a fighter who knew the effects of shimmer?! You're lucky you managed to survive till now. There's no way you could manage to beat him.

All the victorious imagination which your overconfident mind had crafted up till now felt foolishly comical and made you embarrassed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of the man picking up a huge rock, ready to hurl it in your direction. Your mind reels. If you catch the rock at the right angle, maybe you could hurl it back with just force of propulsion? Oh, here it comes!

The solid rock digs into your skin, making you scream, it didn't work out. You had no strength. The jagged ends cut through your skin, leaving behind trails of blood, the pain shooting through to your pain receptors, as you fall back- pulling your arm out from beneath the rubble. You're just glad it's not broken, just very badly bruised. When his fists come barreling down to your torso, however- you push the boulder onto his chest, rendering him motionless temporarily at the air loss as you buy yourself time to run away. To your disappointment you don't make it very far as the ground trips you and his grasp closes around your angle, pulling you back down to smash your body against the rock.

You'd like to think you were still alive and barely conscious because of the remaining mass you had after your dimensional journey.

“I was about to let you go after you gave me your fancy watch.” He struts towards your limp body, lying among the rubble.

“But you just had to be cocky…” he cracks his knuckles, now standing not directly over you, but a distance. To make the impact of his fists worse.

He raises his fist, standing tall over you, a malicious grin baring yellowish teeth as he prepares to sign your death warrant.

“Say goodbye.”

You were a goner… never should have left the academy…never should have-

BOOM!

Plumes of smoke rose from where he stood, uprooting the stones buried beneath the hard earth at the power of it, throwing him away, making him spiral into the rocks facefirst, hitting his head on one. An explosion. Powerful enough to send tremors through the dry earth, leaving a scar on the top in the form of a crack resembling lightning. Your eyes widen as you take in…

Blue sparkles rising from the ground. Twinkling gently in the sunlight, as it guides your gaze up and farther away from the scene.

A tall lanky figure stood there, panting, and looking bewildered at his own actions, an equally anxious shorter figure by his side, clutching at what appeared to be beautiful blue crystals which sparkled brilliantly in the sun.

Your eyes fill with tears of relief and joy as you beheld Viktor and Sky, who were now hurriedly making their way over to you, worry written all over their faces- not just simple concern. You attempted a small smile or even a greeting when your facial muscles painfully reminded you that they were damaged and bleeding, making you flinch and groan.

“Y/N! Oh no no no….” distraught faces and hurried footsteps.

You felt yourselves getting raised up by two gentle, yet determined arms going around each of your shoulders as your arms went around each of their shoulders, heavily leaning against them as your legs threatened to give away beneath you.

“Y/N, o Janna- you're bleeding!” The feminine voice on your right said frantically, holding you securely as they both take you away to safety. You could only register frantic hyperventilation from the voice on your left, however, and leaned gently towards the man to comfort him subconsciously, when your consciousness finally slipped away, finally in the arms of your angels.

________________________________

“I sincerely hope I didn't kill that man…”

“You did the right thing! What else were you supposed to do? Stand there and watch as he pulverizes her?”

“Yes, we had no other option but, still…”

“Hey, We have her now, it's okay, Viktor…”

Snippets of conversation, the plush of the mattress beneath your body, the softness of bandages around your arms, on the back of your head and your ankle, and the gentle press of soothingly wet cloth on your face- removing the dirt and grime with tender touches guided by long beautiful phalanges of the man who sat next to your bed.

“Sky, would you get some smaller bandages too? She has cuts all over her face.” He says with a sigh as you listen to gentle footsteps guided away from the room to fetch more medications and bandages. Sunlight streaming in through the white curtains hurt your eyes making your eyelashes tremble even though your eyelids were shut.

“Y/N… Y/N are you awake?” The concern and anxiety in his voice made your heart melt.

“Five more minutes…”

“Y/N!”

Your lips stretch slightly into a playful smile, your eyes opening up to behold the worried face of your object of admiration.

“Oh lord, you had me worried sick!” Viktor's accentuated voice seemed clearer now somehow.

“I…I mean…us.” He corrects, scratching the back of his neck before letting his gaze wander to the door. As if on cue, Sky walks in, carrying some medications, and some bandages. Seeing you awake, her eyes light up, as she rushes towards your side.

“Y/N! Oh thank goodness!” She grips your hand, grinning happily, with relief. “If you haven't woken up, we were going to transfer you to the medical wing.” She giggles lightly at the incredulous expression you wore in response.

“This isn't the hospital?” You look around, tilting your neck gently to here and there, and catching glimpses of a table with scattered books, papers, coffee mugs, and several charts, and a bookshelf with untidy arrangements, a chair piled with clothes, and a small cabinet.

“No. This is my bedroom.” Viktor replies.

“Oh!” You smirk, directing your gaze to his face. “So this is your bedroom and not where you sneaked in Jayce and I last night…” you revel silently in the way his eyes widen and his mouth opens and closes, hand hovering in midair as if trying to catch a thought.

“Ugh! No, that wasn't! Will you ever let that go?!”

“No.” You smirk.

“Viktor was worried if the medical wing would ask for your documents and get you expelled if we took you there. Luckily because of mandatory medical training, he and I could help.” Sky explains helpfully.

“You guys literally swooped in and saved me!” You exclaim.

“I have to go, I still have some unfinished work back in the techmaturgy department. I’ll come back, and when I'm back- you need to tell me what happened, okay?” Sky says, making her way to the door as she speaks in a hurry, her expression imploring.

“Yes, thanks again sky!” You say, grinning sweetly at her (as sweetly as you could with wounds on your face) as she smiles back and goes out of the room, leaving you and Viktor alone.

Silence envelops the both of you for some moments before you both break it simultaneously.

“Viktor I..”

“Y/N I'm..”

You stop, looking at each other and then cracking into smiles and gentle chuckles, breaking the unspoken tension. Viktor starts to gently open the bandages before sitting closer to you, silently asking for permission to proceed. Blushing, you gently tilt your head to the side, showing him the wound in your cheek. You feel the cotton of the bandages against the cuts, and wince, making Viktor apologize in gentle murmurs.

“What happened there?” He questions as he gently presses the bandage on your cheek to make it stick.

“Ah, I think that man wanted to rob me… my expensive watch, you know?”

“Rob you? He looked like he would've taken your life!” He breathes, his eyes widening.

“Ey, maybe he was desperate.” You hum.

“We were lucky to have found you at the right time. A student told us that he saw you wandering in the construction sites… you shouldn't have gone that far!” He says, as he opens the next bandage to apply it to your face. When he faces you however, his expression is rather sheepish and guilty, unspoken reasons between you.

"You saved me though- did you throw the hex crystal at him?!" You suddenly ask, your mind wandering back to the explosion.

Viktor nervously twiddles his fingers. "I, well...noticed that they are highly explosive but still wouldn't reach your range, with the miniscule portion of it that I threw. Luckily, I measured it out correctly."

"You would've broken multiple rules right there..." You mumble, trying not to glare at him.

"But you're alive!" He leans forward.

“Didn't you ask me to leave?”

“Yes, but not to get yourself hurt or worse!” He says, desperate. “I… I shouldn't have said that” plain remorse.

“What…?”

“I…I changed my mind.”

His words astonished you, as you sat up in surprise, yelping softly at the pain in your spine. Viktor hands shoot up to your shoulders to help you, gently lowering you back to bed.

“You’re joking right?” You say, as your head makes contact with the pillow again.

“I’m not… please Y/N, forgive me!” He says, looking at you with an unreadable expression.

“The night we… we broke into the lab, after we got caught, Heimerdinger lectured me too condescendingly… I… I was an idiot to let that get to me, it almost made me lose sight of what really matters in science!” His gaze meets yours, seeking forgiveness.

“It's passion and the thirst for knowledge! Neither of which even my professor follows now- given the circumstances.”

He explains what he saw in the list Sky brought him, and how deeply it rattled all his beliefs.

“Heimerdinger made me feel as if I was the one who didn't belong, when regarding transparency of actions from the academy… he is highly hypocritical!” He says, passionately gesturing with his arms, looking at you.

“He would never acknowledge how almost all the piltovians get into the academy, and almost no one from the undercity, would he?” You gently ask, looking at him sadly.

“No. Maybe it's time I do act as a zaunite here.” Golden eyes shine with determination.

“You said it yourself, Y/N. It's time that I show them what we really stand for.”

You support, gently extending an arm to touch his shoulder, your eyes glimmering with excitement.

“So please Y/N…” he extends his right hand towards you.

“Will you be my assistant?”

Your heart skips a beat in the tenderness of the question, your eyes stuck on his hand and then gently traveling up to his expectant face. You gently press your palms against the mattress and raise yourself up to eye level with him, sitting up. He quickly helps you up. When you meet his gaze, you smile.

“On one condition.”

“What is it?” Viktor leans forward, all ears.

Your arm extends towards him, and when he doesn't resist, you gently press your palms against his heart, as you feel it picking up pace even beneath all the layers of cloth it is underneath, at the gentle contact.

“I rather like this… will you give one to me?” You smile.

Viktor stutters, a lovely shade of red spreading across his cheeks like the red of a ripe apple. “I- umm…well-”

“The uniform, Viktor.”

The blush only managed to spread further to the tips of his ears, as he stuttered and coughed pointedly to his fist, chuckling bashfully.

“Uh- YES! Ofcourse, the uniform, yes, yes- I will register one for you soon!”

You chuckle, enjoying his expressions.

“We- we'll get the paperwork sorted out soon. The professors won't pay much attention to the assistant's paperwork anyways, you'll be fine.” He quickly explains, the blush softly dissipating, leaving behind a pleasant smile.

“Then we're good!” You giggle, and Viktor pats your back, his eyes crinkling at the corners with his smile.

“Welcome to the team, Y/N.”

____________________________________

“How shameful.” Silco’s voice, dripping with dangerous contempt, slithered unto the man's broken ears, making him flinch.

“I d-didn't know there were three of them, I swear I was about to end her!”

“You fought with a defenseless person, completely and utterly weaker than you and came back, defeated and wounded like this…” his slender fingers gesture irritably to the man's state.

“I can go back! This time I would be successful! Please, just don't-”

“Perhaps it would be better if you receive some more liquid strength.” The lethal words send a shock wave up the man's spine as Silco's eye darts to the vials of treacherous purple liquids swirling mesmerizingly in its container.

“No…No, please! Not again! I-I don't…!” Visions from a not so distant past clouds his mind as he tries to keep the painful screeches and blood curdling screams which comes from the depths of his chest. If the fluid is pumped into his veins again...no, no, NO!

The massive blow to the back of his head by one of his other men was unexpected; he fell to his knees, knocked unconscious the second time as his cries for mercy died out.

Silco hopes the small blue haired girl sleeping in the next room hadn't heard the commotion. He would hate for her to wake up that way.

_____________________________________

Chapter 11 available NOW on my Tumblr page.

#arcane league of legends #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #other dimensions #x reader fanfiction #arcane viktor x reader #isekai reader #sci fi #sky arcane #arcane silco

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justanotherperson1 · 1 year

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What do you think when bayverse Optimus Prime is called a psychopath/military criminal?

Well, I say… yes and no.

Yes, ripping faces and spines about of bodies is hella violent, but also, at what point in a war do you start to ask, “do I want to be moral, or do I want to live?” And this kinda ties into my last post about TFP! and Bay! Optimus. Sure, he could be considered a war criminal in human standards, I feel we could all agree that is the case, but a Phycopath? Not really? There is no time for mercy, no hope of diplomacy. Literally every fight he get into, he or someone he cares about gets hunted down and brutalized like a wild animal. At some point, fight or flight response kicks in and using blades is so much faster than trying to just shoot an apponant like in TFP, and it spares bullets that he might run out of like seen in Age of Extinction. Would you like to talk or injure an enemy that is still able to kill you with three others on your ass, while trying to take care of these little squishy creatures you’ve pledged your life to protect? Or rip a head off and have the immediate threat neutralized? And that doesn’t even go into this guy’s day-to-day life. He is surrounded by death and destruction, and has been for millions of years. MILLIONS. WW1 was a couple of years long and absolutely haunted the world’s generations afterward. It fundamentally changed the way humans looked at the world, looked at each other and expressed themselves. Could you imagine if a human war went on for MILLIONS of years? How would he be any different then any other in that situation? If anything, he’s quite tame, keeping his diplomacy with the humans and a tenderness for the life around him. Could you imagine if he had simply lost his shit and stopped caring anymore? He’s trying, man. It also doesn’t help that EVER SINGLE BATTLE is initiated in the middle of a metropolis. Michael Bay wanted a set piece and didn’t think a desert or something would work, so hypothetically, he get’s basically called or lured into battle by his enemies in giant cities, so thousands of people die and things get destroyed because he can’t control where his foes start shooting.

In the end, I get the thought process- it seems super logical, and if he stopped thinking that way, then he is getting slaughtered by either the Decepticons or humans.

“Nowhere is safe and it’s either me or them.”

A war criminal to human standards? Yes. A Psychopath? Leaning towards no. Did it have to be as gruesome? Probably not, but it gets the job done, and that isn’t to say that he doesn’t go over the top, but who wouldn’t in that kind of situation?

Anyway, I hope my silly ramblings make sense. Thanks for the ask!

#transformers #tfp transformers prime #asks #my asks #optimus prime #bayverse #bayverse optimus #tfp #anon <3 #anon aks #anon answered #I fr don’t know #I have also loved him since I was 4 #not biased at all #lol

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your-local-biromantic-ace · 2 years

Text

Not your luckiest day

➤・ James Lee x gender neutral! Reader [Lookism]

➤・could be seen as platonic??

➤・ kind of ooc James Lee(?) , swearing

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:: Author's note ⇐

Helloooooooooooooo I'm back after a longgg hiatus!! And I'm obsessed with this man and my brain rots from the x reader fanfic ideas I've been thinking off so ya . Also no proofread lol so there may be spelling mistakes and errors

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"Is James not gonna tag along with us today? " Your friend asked ,tilting their head and faced you, curiosity all over their face.

"No, he said he had some work to do " (Y/n) answered , their head facing the road in front of them. Your friend hummed in response and also faced the road ahead.

"Why are you asking?"

You quickly added, now turning you face to your right to face your friend.

"Just curious, he always tags along with you after school, it's kind off weird not having his presence today. " Your friend immediately spoke.

You hummed in response before facing ahead again. Your friend was right. It was weird to not have his presence here. You two would always to home together after school, cracking some jokes here and there, doing some dumb stuff. You were used to that everyday. It just feels awkward and lonely without him around.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

Both of you looked at the 'construction ahead' sign in front of you. Today was not your luckiest day was it?

"Awww man... I was planning to go to the convenience store down the road.. " You sulked, one of your baby cousins were visiting you today and you wanted to buy some snacks for them and for yourself.

"Really? I know another route to get there want me to show it to you? " Your friend proposed upon hearing you.

"Really? Alright then, show me the way please"

"Okay then follow me! " Your friend said as they lead you toward the alleyway right beside the construction sign.

How convenient. The alleyway was dark and long. You don't think had you ever noticed an alleyway here. It was like those movies you had watched and your gut feeling churned when you entered the alleyway. You had a bad feeling about this.

Oh how lucky you were! The alleyway wasn't dangerous at all and both of you left it unscathed.

Curse you love for animals. You had seen a cat come towards you and rub itself against your legs. You swore you had told your friend to stop as you leaned down to pet the cat. Curse the fact that you didn't have any food on you to feed the cat. And curse your friend for not listening to you.

The next thing you know , when you straightened your back to what you expected to meet your friend's face, you were met with an empty road. You started to worry. Where had your friend gone off too? Didn't you tell them to stop ?? They're not the kind to just leave you in an empty, not familiar road. Did they not listen to you?

You swear you are smart, you should've returned towards the construction sign and then call your friend. But even you started to question your intelligence when you needed up searching for you friend and ended up in another alleyway

You ended up in another alleyway. You weren't alone this time. You now stood in front of a man slightly taller than you. Everything about him screamed danger. The fact that you two were alone in an alleyway, double danger.

You could feel the adrenaline kicking in you fight or flight response ran off and you had to escape as quickly as you could. His bigger muscular body means that any wrong move and you'd be a gonner. You started to get into position, calculating your plan, your jaw clenching, your eyes fixated on the man you had to keep your guard up.

"So you're the one who hangs out with James Lee... " The man mumbled. His eyes still fixed on you.

There was enough distance between the two of you. You lifted you right leg and with the strength you had kicked the side of the mans knees.

The man stumbled , he was caught completely off guarded. This was your chance. You turned around to sprint towards the construction sign. But a firm grip near you neck stopped you.

You almost choked. The man had his forearms around your neck.

[A low kick huh? Didn't think you could — AHHHH FUCK] the man immediately released his grip held his arm in pain.

You wiped off the blood running off your mouth and spit out the disgusting taste in your mouth. Again when you started to sprint, you were stopped by him.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH—"he turned you to face him and punched your left cheek making you stumble He then punched you in the stomach, making you choke out saliva. You could only wince in pain and struggled to get rid on his grasp. You were now in the air, both of the mans arms were on your throat.

You tried to release the chokehold he had, with both of your hands but failed to do so. You started to gasp for air when it started to get difficult to breathe. You were feeling weak.You were desperate to not die or get kidnapped . Your vision was starting to get blurry.

With all the last bit of strength you had, you used it all to kick his chin . The force made his head to tilt back and his grip on you loosened, making you fall.

You closed your eyes, preparing yourself to hit the floor. But the anticipation was disrupted by someone catching you from your fall. You opened your eyes to see their face. Your vision was a bit blurry from tears . You saw a familiar red hair. You slowly rose your hand to rub your eyes and looked at the man.

"... James..? " You spoke, your voice hoarse and you were trying to regulate your breathing.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

It was one thing to go after him, but is another thing to go after the people he cares for. Especially his best friend.

He knew something was up when the crew, who were supposedly after him didn't show up at all. His suspicions were proved true when he got a call from your friend about your disappearance and you not picking up their calls. Luckily he was able to pin point where you were in time.

Who knew that the crew members were guarding the alleyway entrance and exit. That wasn't a problem for James though, he got rid of them with ease.

He was mad. He was approaching the crew head, when he was choking you and when you kicked him.

He quickly caught you from falling, having a quick glance at the head to make sure he was unconscious.

James slowly let you down on the ground his hand rested on your back to support you to sit straight while the other hand on the chin to examine the wounds.

Your left cheek was red and was a little swelled up. There was blood running down your face and there were hand prints imprinted in red on your neck.

He was mad. He was mad the the crew, the audacity to harm his friend and try to kidnap them. He was more mad at himself. How could he have not seen this coming? He could've, should've prevented this. Now they were hurt and and everyone knows their face.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

"(Y/n) you're awake!! " You heard someone spoke when you blinked your eyes open. God, your head kind of hurts . Your immediately winced when you to sat up. Your stomach hurts like hell.

"Careful, you're gonna hurt yourself even more " You heard someone say. A familiar voice.

You turned your head to look at the speaker. It was James. He sat on the stool next to your bed, his eyes fixated on whatever he was reading.

"Thanks for the advice genius." You sarcastically said.

"Your welcome" You heard him say, making you scoff. You looked at your surroundings . You were in your room. Nice. Both of you remained silent .

"What had happened? " You mumbled, your whole body felt sore, there were bandaged on your cheek and stomach.

"..you don't remember?" James finally took his eyes off the book to face you.

You started to remember what happened upon hearing him. The memories started flood in. Your awful silence answered James and he looked towards the book again. Silence filled the room once again .

"So... How are you feeling now? " James inquired after a long pause.

"..Not much..,just sore throughout" You mumbled, your eyes fixated on your hands as they figeted the blanket's fabric .

"So you're the one who hangs out with James lee.. "

A realisation struck you, making your eyes widen a bit. . Why did the man know about James? And Judging by his looks and fighting style, he was probably a gangster. Why was he even looking for James in the first place.

".. James? " You said, your voice laced the suspicion you were starting to have.

James noticed the way your expression changed and hesitated to answer. "... Yes? "

"That man... Said something about your name... He didn't look like a normal citizen, but rather... A gangster.. "

While he admired that trait of yours to catch up on what was happening quickly and with the littlest hints, it wasn't the best time for it to show up.

He decided to test your gullibility.

"Really? That's —" He immediately kept his mouth shut when he saw your cold glare. Maybe it wasn't the best time to test that.

"James. What is going on. " (Y/n) sternly said, he knew that they won't keep shut untill they know the truth.

James knew this day might come. But he didn't expect it to be this soon.

Boy oh boy was it going to be a one hell of a story.

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

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:: Author's note ⇐

Heya!! Hope you liked it ^^ , constructive criticisms are always accepted so fell free to advice anything on this

Tired Author over and out

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#james lee x reader #dg x reader #lee jihoon x reader #lookism x reader #lookism #gender neutral reader #lookism james lee #webtoon #lookism dg

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