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olivier-w · 3 months ago

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Hihi!, This is my first request of something like this but here we go! Male harbingers with a reader who has constant nightmares/episodes of sleep paralysis and proceed to comfort them through the process. Obviously you don’t gotta do it if you don’t have the time, just wanted to put this little headcannon out into the world!

(I swear I’m not dead! I was busy graduating and enrolling in my next uni studies!)

✦ How they comfort you when you wake up from a nightmare

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe.

In the darkest depth of our consciousness, even we do not possess sovereignty over our dreams. Be it a curse or a blessing, your mind can become your foe. As thoughts and memories convulse into pleasant dreams or horrid nightmares, you end up with the dreaded sense of despair as you witness your own mind betraying you, and waking up with a cold sweat. Tossing and turning, there is only a certain pair of arms that can soothe you in the dimness of such nights - your beloved’s embrace.

✧ Pierro knows you’re having a nightmare before you even wake up. On a quiet night, when he is sitting beside you in bed, either reading or engrossed in some papers, you’d doze off beside him. But on such nights, he discerns the unease written on your sleeping face. Eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed or softly scowling. The Jester sets whatever he is reading aside and shifts his calculated attention towards you. You start silently tossing as if the very softness of the covers is heavy on you. Pierro sighs, his hand softly coming to rest on your forehead to confirm his suspicion - you are warm, yet breaking out into a cold sweat.

“Dear, shh… open your eyes, slowly now.” - he whispers, as his hands slowly yet deliberately caress your face. “You are having a nightmare again.”

And indeed, you open your eyes; your dazed expression is one of puzzlement yet evident fear. Pierro knows your first few minutes of waking up from a nightmare are delicate. Through the haze, your first instinct is to seek refuge in the safety of the arms holding you, knowing to who it belongs already. You turn towards him, letting him pull you against his chest.

“…Your mind is wary and played tricks on you. You're here now. Breathe.” - you kept your eyes closed, too worn out to get up or speak about your nightmare. Thus, you focused on Jester’s words, breathing deeply as the sound of his heartbeat was navigating you to inhale and exhale.

You didn't have to explain your nightmares to Pierro - he already knows they mirror the horrors of the cataclysm he once witnessed. Therefore, he squeezes you tightly against him, his lips pressed against your forehead. With silent words of comfort, Pierro continued his vows to protect you, even from your nightmares.

✧ Il Capitano kneeled beside your bed, akin to a dutiful knight. You lay there, asleep, your wounds and gashes carefully bandaged. This wasn't your first time returning from a prolonged expedition, battle scars and bruises coloring your skin. After all, he often warns you not to be reckless, while you stubbornly return home with bruises.

Hence, he silently remained beside you, his fists clenched and shoulders taut. His pitch-black helmet stared at you for a prolonged time, anxiously keeping watch of your deep slumber. The Captain's mind reeled, chastising himself for not being there to protect you. But suddenly his attention was diverted as you started to mutter in your sleep.

It was incomprehensible and lasted only a fleeting second before you jolted up with a sudden gasp, urgently grappling for breath.

“My beloved, what is the matter?” - Capitano rushed towards your side, his arm immediately around your shoulder. “Focus on breathing, steady your heart.”

You wake up, eyes wide with shock and gasping for life, like a fool rescued from drowning. You stared at your beloved in confusion, before your face sourced in melancholy. Il Capitano let you hide your face against him, his arms carefully wrapped around you to avoid pressing your bruises. He sensed your shoulders shaking, small sobs emitting from you - and that sound alone could make the steadfast Harbinger crumble. His hands brush your messy hair aside, offering soothing comfort.

“I shall hold you, my dear. These were only illusions brought about by your fatigue and injuries… It’s all safe now, I am here.” - Capitano squeezed you in his embrace as if his larger frame could shield you from harm. However, in truth, his words aimed to reassure not only you but also himself. Despite his vigilance, his hands trembled whenever he witnessed your distress, fear, or unease. "What did you see, my love?"

You sniffled, recounting the blurry bits of your nightmare. Although you were regaining your breath, you felt how Capitano’s hand trembled, his stern expression faltering with concern. Even you could tell that he was more nervous about your disposition, maybe even more than you.

“You saw such horrible visions due to your fatigue. I did not shield you from your wounds and nightmares. I shan’t forgive myself for my failure. From here on out, allow me to remedy it.”

✧ At an ungodly hour of the night, Il Dottore returned to his private chambers. With the long hours of working in the lab behind him, he entered the bedroom quietly, expecting to see you fast asleep. Instead, he noticed the bathroom door ajar, allowing a streak of light to seep into the dark room, and the faint sound of tap water running caught his attention. Most importantly, you were not in bed.

“It’s rare to see you awake at this hour…” - the Doctor remarked as he stood by the bathroom doorway, observing you cool your face with water. “Why are you not asleep?”

“I…couldn’t sleep.” - you replied briefly, yet your fatigue was evident as you tapped your face with a towel.

The Harbinger did not buy your lies, he carefully stepped closer, his gloved hands placed softly onto your shoulders. “Turn around. Look at me.”

You did so, and no words were necessary as he analyzed your sorrowful gaze: reddened eyes, darkened circles, and an ashan look of despair bestowed on you. The Harbinger sighed, keenly aware that you had woken from another harrowing dream. His hands now gently caressed your cheek, thumb trailing softly.

“Another nightmare?” - he inquired in a hushed tone, “Staying awake won’t resolve it, you know. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You wished to object, but Dottore had already sprung into full work mode. He brought you back to bed, deftly fixing the tousled pillows and covers to your liking. Once you were tucked, he instructed quickly: “Now stay here. I will brew some chamomile tea. It will help your slumber.”

Thus, with his coat removed and sleeves rolled up to the forearms, he moved through the house, swiftly ensuring that your resting area exuded comfort and tranquility. Returning with the steaming tea, he placed the cup on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. “Careful now, it’s still hot. Do you want me to give you sleeping p-”

“I’m not ill, Dottore. It was just… a nightmare. Nothing more.”

“Yet your expression says it wasn’t ‘just’ a nightmare, and your heartbeat is accelerating.” - His hand ran over your forehead, instinctively checking for your temperature. “It’s just a dream. You're awake now. Don’t exhaust yourself anymore - it’s usually my job to stay late, actually.”

You huffed at him but managed a faint smile. “Undoubtedly… And what would the doctor prescribe for my ailment?”

Il Dottore smirked proudly, planting a much-needed kiss on your cheek before finally scooting beside you in bed - “Why, a dose of me, of course!”

✧ The moment Scaramouche perceived the sound of your distress in the dead of night, he swiftly flung the sliding shoji door aside, prepared for murder. But there was no intruder or attacker, it was just you, sitting up on your futon, softly weeping. The confused Balladeer stepped into your room, kneeling beside you as his mind invoked the worst scenarios already.

“What happened? I heard a scream.”

For a moment you tried to regain your breath, gulping. Only after regaining your composure, and hearing much coaxing to tell the truth, did you finally reveal to him what transpired. It was a nightmare, plain and simple. For a moment, Scaramouche was silent. He is no stranger to dreams, particularly the ones that bring tears to the dreamer. Instead, he resented them, viewing dreams as the root of his vulnerabilities and the reason for his estrangement.

But witnessing you weep after a nightmare? It was a foreign feeling, one that left a foul pit in his being.

“Hey, calm down.” - he whispered, reaching for you. At first, the Harbinger wasn’t sure how to handle this, but he persisted nonetheless. “It was all just a dream. A jumble of thoughts made up by your mind, Do not allow such a thing to haunt your sleep.”

“I'm sorry, Scara… I know, It’s foolish to cry. I just-”

The 6th shushed you, but when you tried to glance at him in the dark, you sensed no mockery or animosity in his gaze. “I didn't say you should stop crying. It’s not foolish either.”

With a deep sigh, Scaramouche begrudgingly crawled beside you under the covers. He made sure you were lying down beside him, pulling the covers over you both. "Okay, listen. I will stay with you while you fall back asleep. Only this time! So don't expect a bedtime story."

His irritation veiled his concern for your weary expression. But thankfully, his words managed to elicit a chuckle to your sleepy face. He watched you lay on your side, his fingers idly toying with the ends of your hair.

"Say, Scaramouche...? Do puppets have bad dreams?"

The Balladeer did not think much of your innocent question. He didn't have to contemplate long to let his memories resurface; instead, he just nodded quietly with no elaboration. Regardless, that simple question from you kept haunting his mind for years to come. As Wanderer sat alone in bed, the torturous grip of dreams clutching him anew, he no longer had you beside him. The reassurance he once provided while spending sleepless nights with you was absent, just as you were no longer there to offer the same.

✧ When you jolted up with a yelp, you likely caused a bigger fright to Pantalone than your own nightmare instilled in you. The Harbinger rose from his slumber, turning the nightstand lamp with half-shut eyes.

“Oh dearie, Shhh… It’s alright, all is good,” - he tugged at you with trepidation, pulling you close to him in bed. “I’ve never seen you so frightened from a dream. There, there.”

You honestly felt ashamed at first, but both of you understood the uncontrollable nature of nightmares, especially if they caused you to scream in the awakened world. So here you were, hiding your face behind your palms while your beloved hugged you, hoping to provide solace. Once you came out of your shock, you just rested against his shoulder quietly. Once the shock subsided, you remained leaning against his shoulder in silence. However, the lingering taste of the nightmare left a sour impression on your mood, as you found yourself unable to drift back into slumber.

Pantalone observed your despondent demeanor, his arm still encircling your shoulders - “Do you think you can fall back asleep, honey?”

“... I’m sorry, Pantalone. I woke you up, too. Now I feel embarrassed.”

“Nonsense, dear. An unpleasant dream does that sometimes. You’re just… shaken by the memories of your nightmare, and now unable to fall back asleep.” - The Regrator brought the covers closer over your figure, while your head leaned on his shoulders. “Do you want me to make you something? Maybe coffee, or valerian root tea with honey?”

“No, no. Can you just… keep talking for a while?” - you requested in a sudden coy manner, “You can talk about anything. I want to hear you speak.”

“Hm, very well,” - Pantalone smiled fondly and reached for his glasses on the nightstand. “I think I have just the idea.”

Reaching for a book he usually reads before bed, the Harbinger scooted closer, ensuring the open pages were visible to you. Pantalone knew that what troubled you did not require in-depth words or solutions. Instead, you sought a distraction from your troubled mind. Something to keep your saddened thoughts at bay while he spoke about whatever he could think of.

“Then allow me to read for you while you rest easy, okay? Ahem…”

In the dimly illuminated bedroom, you found solace in the soothing voice of your beloved, your gaze tracing the words on the pages as Pantalone remained engrossed in his reading aloud. You kept quiet and still, seeing him flip the pages as he continued. Soon enough, the gentle cadence of his voice ushered you into the embrace of sleep, and you yielded willingly back to slumber. Pantalone detected your drooping head and quietly closed the book before planting a kiss on your forehead.

"Sleep well, dear."

✧ Tartaglia blinked at you, his countenance solemn as he sat upright in bed. You mirrored his gaze, knowing perfectly well what he would say. You could smell it a mile away.

“Let me beat them!”

“No,” - you crossed your arms.

“Let me beat whoever bothers you in your nightmares”

“For the last time, Ajax, you can’t physically ‘fight’ nightmares! It’s a nightmare, not a person!”

Such was the course of your evening. Startled from a haunting dream, you found Childe by your side, showing more concern for your welfare than you did yourself. Instead, he insisted on vanquishing your nightmares with his fists alone.

“Oh come on, you know I’m just joking. I saw you gasping for air after you woke up so abruptly; don’t blame me for being concerned.” - Childe rolled his eyes, gently pulling you to rest on his arms. “Tell me, what did you see?”

You sighed deeply, remaining apprehensive despite his humorous jabs. After much contemplation, you decided it would be worse if you recited your nightmares vocally. “It… It doesn’t matter. It was a nonsensical nightmare, nothing to ponder about.”

The Harbinger frowned softly, he knew you well enough when something troubled you. And it was clear you felt anguished by the recent dream you had. Pressing further would only exacerbate it, instead, he decided to annoy you in a different manner

“Well, next time you have a bad dream… Call out for me. In your dreams I mean!” - He stated with a big smile.

“...What?”

“Think about it! Something is bothering you while you’re dreaming - you call out for me, and I stop my dreams to come to your dream.”

“That’s ridiculous,” - you chuckled

“And then, you know, pow, pow!” - Childe mimicked the motion of fistfighting, pretending to punch some invisible opponent who could be your potential enemy in a nightmare. In the meantime, you started laughing even more. “And there you go! Your nightmares are now rainbows and sunshine.”

You knew well what Tartaglia was doing. He aimed to lift you out of your forlorn state by sharing lighthearted jokes - and it was working. Tartaglia watched you laughing silly as he made some childish remarks, feeling victorious to bring in that smile he adores oh so much. It was his method of alleviating the tensions in your mind, and it proved effective as the two of you snuggled in bed, entertained by amusing banter until your worries subsided. Then, and only then, would you release a contented sigh and allow yourself to drift back into slumber in the comforting embrace of your beloved.

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olivier-w · 4 months ago

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✦ How they hold you in bed when sleeping

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Tartaglia (separate)

When the stars are perched in the night sky, and the world becomes wrapped in a still blanket of darkness - there is no better action than departing to your safe space, the coziness of your bedroom, and the safety of your beloved’s body next to you. The lights are dimmed and after a warm shower and a change into comfy pajamas, your beloved is met with a tender sight of your sleepy figure. It is time for rest, and with his arms open, beckoning you to hop into his embrace - you join him in bed at last.

✧ A single glance from Pierro and his eyes would instantly soften upon seeing your sleepy expression. The Director of the Fatui doesn’t require any questions or even verbal communication to know that something is troubling you. Your solemn gaze and slumped shoulders tell him more than enough - and his heart aches in response. Silently but gently, he pulls you closer, his star-shaped pupils seeking answers from your own.

“My divine one... A long day?” - he whispers, his hand lifting your chin to make you look at him. You don’t directly respond, but nod and press your lips into a thin line. Pierro sighs, yearning to vanquish all your worries and pain. But sometimes, words are superfluous.

“Do not fret your little heart. No harm shall come, for I am here, my divine. Shall I take you to bed, instead?”

With a small nod and a timid glance from you, Pierro spoke no further. He knew what you required on such solemn nights as these, and instead, allowed his arms to pick you up, carrying your fatigued figure in his bigger embrace. He pulled you closer, his cheek gently grazing your face as he whispered soothing words and brought you to bed.

He tucked you in, the king-sized bed bringing the familiar sensation of silky sheets and warm covers. He kisses your forehead with careful and slow deliberation before accompanying you to sleep.

When Pierro sleeps beside you, he is often silent, but his gaze never leaves your figure. He’d lay on his side, gazing at your face as if it were the stars and the moon itself. Even within the dimness of the room, he has memorized the outline of your face, the soothing rhythm of your breathing, the contour of your figure. With one hand around you, you two slept peacefully, the troubles of the world left behind. Even the Fatui’s Director required solace, and this solace he would locate only in your tender arms; his sanctuary.

✧ Il Capitano has memorized your routine. Take a shower, get ready for bed, and most importantly, sleep on top of him as if his body were a sturdy mattress. It’s not your fault your cherished is so much taller and bigger, right? Well luckily for you, he absolutely adores it when you climb on top of him, resting your head on top of his chest and legs around his hips. Your smaller figure clad tight around him like a loving weighted blanket while he slept on his back. His hands would gladly squeeze you, loving your softness against his toned physique.

“You don’t mind my weight on top of you, Cappy?” - you’d often ask every night before bed, peeking at him with that tender worry that made the Harbinger melt in an instant. Capitano would continue to hold you, his sharp fingers tracing circles gently on your hips or your back.

“Dearest, I have carried heavier weights that quadruple you in size. If you were to bother me, would I be pulling you back to my arms whenever you toss and turn?”

And thus, with the seal of approval from the honorable Captain, you’d smile triumphantly and sleep on him. That’s just how the two of you were: Capitano was a beast in size, slept still, and barely moved when on his back. Conversely, you were smaller in size, slept very lightly, and often turned or wrestled with the covers. Even when you had the spacious bed to your leisure, you always chose to sleep tightly clinging to him. And Capitano revered every second of it as if it was the biggest honor in his duty as your protector. Truly, an honorable knight protecting your dreams.

✧ Sharing a bed with Il Dottore is a toil. If you managed to miraculously drag him out of his lab, he’d groan and argue that he has important research to do, that your concern for his sleep schedule is ‘childish’. Yet the moment he settles in bed, he becomes a menace to your sanity:

“Are you coming to bed or not?”

“Come here, closer.”

“No, you are pushing around.”

And the cherry on top of it all? He’d stare at you during the entire night, maskless. You know he doesn’t easily fall asleep, even on days when he overexhausted himself in his experiments. So naturally, his method to relax is to press the side of his head tightly against your chest and just remain glued to you with the sound of your heartbeat being his salvation. You’d assume it is an adorable sight… until you’d open your eyes in the middle of the night, only to notice a piercing, red lens just gawking at you. Motionless and still, he just wore that neutral expression while being pressed to your chest.

“...Uh, are you going to just stare at me in the dark?” - you whispered in the dark, to which he won’t even move or change his expression.

“43 beats per minute.”

You blinked sleepily - “... wha-”

“Your heart beats approximately 43 to 50 beats per minute when you sleep. That’s anywhere between 20640 to 24000 beats for 8 hours of sleep.”

It was your turn to gawk at him, albeit in confusion. His nonchalant yet stoic reply told you that he was, indeed, very focused on counting each and every beat of your heart while you slept. He remained pressing his ear to the middle of your chest, arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“Dottore, have you not slept this entire time…?”

“Shush, stop speaking,” - he whispered more gently, pressing his face into you in a rather touchy manner as if you wouldn’t notice. “I am still counting. Your heart rate is increasing to 81 bpm.”

“If you won’t go to sleep this instance I won’t make any Ajilenakh Cake tomorrow.”

As such, silence dominated the dark bedroom once more. The doctor said no more and settled on hiding his face against your body, not daring to admit that he loved your desserts. And even more, not daring to acknowledge that your heartbeat lulled him to sleep. To deny his infatuation with every beat of your pulse would be a lie, and to deny his longing to physically hold you close would be ignorance. So he settled to silently counting your heartbeat until succumbing to dreamless slumber.

✧ Scaramouche didn’t require sleep. Everyone knew that. Regardless, your persuasion with the 6th knew no bounds as you begged and nagged at him relentlessly to remain beside your bedding. He would audibly scoff and cross his arms at your ridiculous request.

“My body does not need rest for 8-something hours. Why should I even waste such precious time with you while you’re the one unconscious?”

However, no matter how much Scaramouche put up the cold front and rolled his eyes, he wasn’t immune to your ingratiating puppy eyes or gentle tugging whenever you asked something of him. You’d always embrace him from the side, asking him softly to stay a little longer as you depart for the night. He, of course, would refuse and cut your answers short, but his actions told a different story. He was already tucking you in; making sure the futon was neatly laid and the covers warmly wrapped around you while he sat kneeling beside you. He just had to make a fuss first:

“To even insinuate such foolish proposition… You must be truly bored out of your mind.”

You’d only chuckle in response, smiling whenever he made sure your room was tidy and secure for your nightly rest. But even then, you’d reach for his hand, and whisper:

“... Just stay for a while longer. At least until I fall asleep, okay?”

Same scoff. Same attitude. But The Puppeteer never left. He always stayed beside you, despite his arrogant rebuttals that you quickly learned were nothing about. He’d either sit leaning beside you, keeping a silent company, or telling you obscure stories he heard from Inazuma or the Abyss. And at times, Scaramouche would remain kneeling by your futon even after you had fallen asleep.

Your breathing was slow and steady, but he was almost afraid to lean any closer. All bickerings he displayed before were gone, and like a porcelain puppet, Scaramouche would find himself frozen in place, hypnotized by your soothing breathing. He just gazed at you, as if you were a distant star within the dark sky, the palliative breaths emitting from you told him that you were safe. You are here.

And it was from you he learned how gentle breaths are emitted by those deemed “alive”. How your breathing fluctuates in different moments of your life: energetic when happy, hitched when disturbed, and peaceful when asleep. Strangely, this mundane motion of your chest falling and rising worked like a lullaby to Scaramouche.

Alas, he now condemns himself for not caressing your face all these times he watched you sleep. A lonesome Wanderer sat alone, an empty futon beside him. Your familiar presence lacking, and he won’t hear your tranquil breaths. You are not here.

✧ Your dear Pantalone had a fundamental habit before bed. He’d set his glasses aside, hair tied up, and go through his skincare routine right before bed. His hands diligently yet delicately wash all the apprehension and professionalism from his face. But the most important part? Trash talk with you about what happened at his work, while he focused on his reflection in the mirror.

“Could you believe that dear?” - the 9th called out to you from the bathroom, his brows frowning in displeasure. The man continued to cleanse his face. “Those insolent aristocrats offered another bribe under the table, thinking that would change my final statement.”

You responded with a faint “Mhm,” back at him.

“And then! The tasteless bastard dared to ask that some of their reports be delayed because he will pay twice, as long as no one checks for quality control. I mean, the audacity of some of those high-society morons!”

“Right, right” - you murmured faintly from the bedroom.

Pantalone massaged his cheekbones, making sure his face was as affluent as his taste and status. He adjusted his robe, still rambling with the same frustrated passion. “They think that just because they’re doing business with me, negotiating with a high sum of bribes would lead to a guaranteed deal with the Fatui. Ugh.”

This time, there was no response from you. The bedroom was awfully silent, despite the night lamp still shining.

“Honey?” - Pantalone called gently.

Silence. The Regrator stepped out of the bathroom, a curious look on his face, until his eyes spotted you in bed, asleep. His expression immediately softens, all quarrels and gossip forgotten. It seems that his late-night rambles about work have thrilled you so much that you, obviously, dozed off. You didn’t even turn off the lights or get under the covers yet.

Pantalone couldn’t help but smile softly. You two had a long day, anyway. He quietly finished his preparations for bed, changed into comfortable nightwear, and stepped closer to your side. With a delicate touch, he made sure you were tucked in properly, giving you the usual good night kiss on the forehead and tucking your hair away from your face. The man dimmed the lights before he two took his rightful place in bed beside you.

Whatever quarrels troubled his mind now - didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had your comforting presence beside him in bed. As he slowly spooned your sleeping figure, Pantalone let out a sigh of relief, letting his head rest by the crook of your nape. Only then, did the Regrator feel his body go into ease, feeling the tranquil silence settle upon the room. Thus, the two of you slept warmly; Something that Pantalone would never trade for any riches or gold.

✧ Ah yes, Tartaglia, his sweetheart, and their 50,000 Mora five-foot tall Morax plushie. Childe remained lying on his back, his expression far from pleased. Ever since he returned from his mission in Liyue, he gifted you this massive dragon plushie. A plushie that became his mortal enemy. His tormentor. His replacer.

The 11th frequently brought souvenirs back home in Snezhnaya. Liyuan tea sets, Inazuman dresses, or Fontainian gadgets. All for your spoiling, and the joyous smiles from his siblings. One of such missions, he returned home with several cute toys and plushies, just for you and Teucer. He is not beating the “Greatest Toy Seller” allegation anytime soon, but he was certain that the gigantic Morax would be a lovely choice for you.

How naive he was.

The plushie was almost your entire height, yet you held onto it with utter delight when he gave it to you. You hugged and squeezed it with love, finding the fluffy geo archon the cutest thing ever. And thus, here you were. In bed, not hugging your boyfriend, but hugging the massive Morax plushie.

It became a common occurrence. At first, Childe chuckled at your adorable antics whenever you brought his gift with you in bed. But then it became more apparent that you would rather turn your back to him, and just fall asleep while embracing the plushie. Childe swallowed his pride. It’s just a plushie, he bargained with himself. But then he would stare daggers that that innocent, fluffy-looking Morax. How dare it be the one receiving your love, while you adorably squeezed or fell asleep on it.

It should’ve been him!

Therefore, one night, he took matters into his own hands. Tartaglia sat up silently in bed, and by mustering all his skills in stealth, he sneakily pulled the Morax plushie away from your grasp while you slept soundly. He was slow, and careful so as not to wake you up; and boy, tugging that five-foot plush was no easy task. Once it was away from your arms, Childe grinned in triumph… and threw the toy aside. The enemy has been neutralized.

Next step - carefully pulling you closer to him. You were already in deep sleep, so of course, you didn’t feel when your beloved naturally embraced you in bed. Shh, no one will know he was jealous of a silly toy. He was just a concerned boyfriend, who needed to bury his face onto the crown of your head and relish your warmth.

The next morning, you woke up feeling warm and pressed to your dear Ajax, who was particularly cuddly that morning.

“Oh no, how did my Morax plushie fall to the floor?”

“Hm? Oh, you must’ve accidentally tossed it away while you slept, dear.”

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olivier-w · 10 months ago

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its official: tumblr is selling our data to Midjourney

we'd been hearing rumors about this for a bit but now its open and out there. some details from this article

it goes without saying, but if @staff goes through with this its going to be an utter shitshow and im all but certain the website will not survive it.

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olivier-w · 10 months ago

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ATTENTION ARTISTS OF TUMBLR

since tumblr is going to start scraping blogs to train ai be sure to glaze and nightshade your art!! Not only will both of these programs protect your art from being copied but nightshade also poisons any ai that tries to steal it

here is some more info on these tools and where you can download them:

Nightshade: Protecting Copyright (uchicago.edu)

Nightshade: Downloads (uchicago.edu)

Glaze - What is Glaze (uchicago.edu)

Glaze - Downloads (uchicago.edu)

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olivier-w · 2 years ago

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Been reading a lit of @jessamine-rose ‘s fanfics and thought I’d show my appreciation with fan art of one of the darlings (personally my fav one hehe)

This is just my own interpretation, she has her own art of Lady Mist that you should def check out!!!

#fanart #my art #pencilart

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olivier-w · 2 years ago

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He professing his love. he’s gonna get his heart broken.

#my art #pencilart #oc artwork #oc art #sketch

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olivier-w · 2 years ago

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Genshin Impact (FATUI Harbingers ver. + 7 Minutes in Heaven Scenario) click and drag game!

warnings: flashing images

characters included: all 11 fatui harbingers

op's notes: after that recent trailer, you know I just HAD to make a fatui harbinger one immediately. why are they so hot? like damn 😫💘 excited to see more of them!

Game notes • How to Play

Please use a browser other than Google Chrome as the GIFs lock onto its first frame on Chrome. Safari and Firefox work, please try those

If you're on mobile, screenshot the gifs either as a set or individually

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olivier-w · 3 years ago

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Cheers, Loves <3

#valorant #valorant chamber #fanart #valorant fanart #vincent fabron

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olivier-w · 3 years ago

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Focal Point (Chamber x Reader)

Premise: Seeing yourself through Chamber’s eyes while spending a day off together.

Inspired by this post from the wonderful @themugghost about Chamber as an artist!

Word Count: 1,347

• As one of the newcomers added to the roster, Chamber came into the Protocol knowing that many relationships had already been forged among the agents. Fitting in would take some work.

• Being his usual charming self with a squeaky clean record and an unknown past made a lot of the agents wary of him. He was too smooth - his niceties rang as unbearably false to some and highly suspicious to others.

• Most tended to look the other way when he entered the room. He may have smelled rich, but he reeked of bad news.

• He didn’t show it, but this just made him confused and - dare he say it? - a little disheartened. Sometimes he didn’t even have to open his mouth before he was immediately shut out by others.

• One of the only people who didn’t treat him as a social outcast was you. You greeted him with an easygoing smile when you crossed paths, asked how his day was and seemed genuinely interested in his answer. You enjoyed hearing about his weapon-building process and often asked to test his creations with him in the range.

• While many of the agents tended to stick with the same group of people, you were more of a floater and established authentic friendships with all of them: from movie nights with Jett, Raze and Phoenix to coffee breaks with the notoriously icy Viper, to meditating with Sage in the mornings and even stargazing at night with KAY/O… it would take Chamber all day to name your frequent activities with every agent.

• The Frenchman had no idea how you did it, but he could learn a thing or two from you.

• He was thrilled when he found out you had something in common: you both practiced visual art as a hobby. It was the perfect opening to learn more about you, so he invited you to spend the day with him in one of his favourite cafés…

Keep reading

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olivier-w · 3 years ago

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Chamber and Mirror Chamber

#valorant chamber #valorant fanart #valorant #fanart #meme

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olivier-w · 3 years ago

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chamber x agent!reader stables where maybe during a mission reader gets injured or anything like that? I need some hurt/ comfort with this man :) thank youuu

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐋

After trying to flank along with Viper and Cypher to B window, it seems Mirror Skye managed to mature with her powers.

1 | Might make a part 2 for this, kinda not satisfied with how it ended but at the same time, I don’t know how to continue it. 2 | Chamber x GN! Agent Reader // TW: Mentions of injuries, gunshots, blood, poison, and cursing. 3 | Just realized that no matter how much I want to revise my previous posts, it’s best not to so that I can see how my writing has improved :’) 4 | Edited. // 1.7k+ words

"Enemies spotted B Window, teleporter is gone.” Chamber informed his teammates, taking cover back site. The scorching rays of Rabat’s morning sun shone down onto his figure, the climate being more brutal than any other places he’s been sent to. Sand from the ground stuck to the bottom of his shoes, his pants dusty and all wrinkled.

He frowned in annoyance, mentally adding to his never-ending schedule to visit the dry cleaners once again.

Killjoy squirmed in her spot beside Chamber. Usually, it would only take a few seconds and there would be someone coming right away for backup, but no one responded. "Why aren't they responding yet?"

"The radianite along with the horrible connection, mademoiselle." Call them impatient but it's been one of the few missions where communication was agonizingly slow. Seconds seemed like minutes.

Gunshots rained upon the area. Screams of protest from the opponents were suppressed.

Thankfully, Viper’s smokes managed to block the enemies' field of vision, so if they ever tried to go past the smokes, their senses would be nullified for a small amount of time. It was enough to stall their mirror selves and buy time.

"So their mirror selves decided to send in the reckless ones? All the more advantage." Killjoy tried looking towards the positive side. She brought her beanie lower to cover her ears, annoyed with how aggressive their enemies were. Can they please stop spraying their guns? Her turret and alarm bot were close to her, in fear they would do horrible damage to her precious inventions once more.

The radianite crates that they were supposed to protect were barely surviving all the damage being done. Brimstone and Sage won’t be pleased, but there’s nothing they can do about it. Everything was safe, they were safe.

For now.

Their earpieces buzzed. "Testing, testing..." Thank Astra and all her lucky stars.

“Just wait for backup, and don’t do anything reckless.” Viper’s muffled voice reached both of the agents’ ears, her finger repetitively tapping the earpiece. Chamber and Killjoy collectively sighed in relief, glad that their message was relayed successfully.

“Please stay safe, Chamber, Killjoy.” You spoke up. Once you heard their message, you regrouped with Viper and Cypher and ran towards B site, double-checking corners if ever someone tried flanking your team. Your pistol and keys clanked onto each other on your hip, running as quick as your legs could take you.

Chamber ignored the German wiggling her eyebrows at him. “Je vais, as long as you and the others stay safe as well.” He heard your voice as clear as day.

Viper made a displeased sound, annoyed with how delayed Chamber's warning was sent. If it wasn't for you, their chances of surviving would have been at risk. “Why does the signal in Rabat have to be so horrible?” Chamber could imagine the frown on the chemist’s face.

Cypher butted into the conversation, “Don’t even bother complaining. If I’m better than you in surveillance while growing up here in Morocco, you're spoiled.”

“Shut up.”

Despite all the insults thrown between Viper and Cypher, Killjoy talking to her turret and alarm bot in a form of reassurance, and the noises around him, he swore he felt the layers of worries and paranoia from you.

Chamber decided to bring up his worries. “Is there something wrong?”

The French listened patiently, hearing how you smacked your lips a few times. “It’s just, I can’t shake off this strange feeling I’m having...” You trailed off.

“Trust me, with Cypher and Viper by your side, you will be protected. It’s a part of their contract, you're going to be fine.”

No response. Static.

“Cherie?”

The comms were down. Well shit.

“I’m having flashbacks...” Killjoy muttered beside the French. She was so much more naïve back then, so much happened and so much has changed. “There’s no more gunshots, Chamber.” Something felt off.

Goosebumps were on the edges of their neck. She was right, only the sound of the harsh wind filled the area. He couldn’t sense movement.

Killjoy and Chamber’s eyes widened as Viper’s smoke went down. Didn’t she say she significantly increased the duration of how long they would be up? Risking it, they stood up to see nothing. Only the spike left behind.

“Stay close.” Their backs were against each other, and until they were close enough to the spike, Killjoy picked it up.

His eyes analyzed how Killjoy's collected face morphed into confusion and slight shock. “It’s... fake.”

Fake?

───── ° 〔 ⸙ 〕 ° ─────

“Is there something wrong?” Your lover asked.

Viper motioned for you to lower your voice, as your group was now dangerously close to B Window. You nodded and returned to focusing on answering Chamber's question.

You bit your tongue. Why does Chamber always have to be so good at reading a person’s feelings? You swore your beloved was joking when he claimed he could tell who a person is just by what gun they pick.

Your throat tightened, “It’s just, I can’t shake off this strange feeling I’m having...”

“Tru...........y...ou...........ne..” Fuck. Now your communication devices weren’t working.

Viper pinched her skin lightly a couple of times, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “I ran out of toxins, something absorbed a significant amount of poison from my walls.”

Absorbed? What could absorb poison without getting affected by all the chemicals?

“Shit, behind you!”

Before you could react, something clutched your arms and legs, leaping back tremendously with you in their grasp. How come you never heard them sneaking up behind you? Something long slithered around your body and neck, effectively cutting your airflow.

Panicked emerald and muted blue eyes were the last things registered in your mind.

Then, deadly sharp fangs dragged down your spine, drawing out blood. You felt poison kicking into you, heat at alarming temperatures spreading throughout you.

After that, you felt the creature running away. Viper screamed towards it, and Cypher's arms caught your figure. Then, you passed out.

───── ° 〔 ⸙ 〕 ° ─────

No matter how much Cypher despised Chamber, you were someone he's grown fond of.

As Viper hurriedly went towards the aircraft with you on her back, Cypher made a run towards B’s window, not caring whatever was happening in there.

He saw Chamber and Killjoy with their guns up, a spike thrown on the floor behind them.

“Cypher?” Chamber held out his headhunter, unsure if this was the Cypher from his world.

“Your lover has been poisoned.”

Chamber didn't know what happened after Cypher spoke those words, with what just happened it was such a blur. Everything spiraled down, his plans being thrown down the drain. Right now the aircraft was being auto-piloted back to base, the agent’s guns and the fake spike stored somewhere safe. He clutched both of your hands, the familiar slight warmth keeping him sane from losing himself.

"They're going to be fine, right?"

Viper explained to the best extent she could, lowering the vocabulary. There was a difference between science and engineering.

“I’m not sure. From what I’ve gathered, Mirror Skye managed to bring to life another creature, a cobra.” Mirror Skye was able to mature further with her powers. “Seeing as how your partner is still alive and breathing, the creature is still being developed. The other me must have assisted Mirror Skye when my toxins were up, she helped the creature by letting the cobra absorb my poison onto their salivary glands, and onto the alveoli.”

“The creature still being developed?” Killjoy asked. She could fit in the pieces of the puzzle, but it was better to confirm it.

“Simple. Mirror Skye, just like our Skye, is still struggling. The animal trinkets are destroyed with just a few bullets, unconscious when controlling the Tasmanian tiger, and her guard completely lowered when guiding the hawk. It’s a trinket, wood, and nature.” Viper continued. The aircraft was silent after the explanation.

“Didn’t you say that your poisons won’t affect us?” Chamber argued, annoyed with how such a careless mistake hurt you drastically. Viper ignored his statement by answering it with another completely different topic, knowing it would lead nowhere. “For now, until I can fix my toxic screen and poison cloud, both of my utilities will have an increased resource drain. I’ll have to reduce how long my snake bites last to save venom.”

Chamber was about to refute until Killjoy held his shoulder. Killjoy flinched when her eyes connected with his, fury and rage filling his dark brown eyes. She held her ground, knowing how worried you tend to get when Chamber loses his cool.

The French rolled his eyes and slumped back down on his seat. A sigh escaped his lips, the anger that once consumed him was completely gone. He looked at your figure, your skin pale and your lips losing color. Please hold on a little bit longer.

“And why are you just walking away?” Cypher rested his right foot on his left knee, raising an eyebrow as he watched Viper walk away.

“To contact Brimstone and Sage.” She didn’t give a damn about how Chamber’s eyes pierced the back of her head. Viper sauntered off, it was going to be a long week.

───── ° 〔 ⸙ 〕 ° ─────

“Sage, I am in your debt once again.”

Your eyes twitched, the light from the ceiling making everything seem too bright. Groaning in slight pain, warm calloused hands supported your lower back as you felt Sage use her healing orb on you.

“Are you alright? Just listen to my voice.” Your eyesight was blurry, barely comprehending what was in front of you. You could make out Sage's ponytail, but other than that it was hazy and cloudy.

Sage and Chamber whispered to one another, you assumed it was to not make your headache any worse.

"I feel like my head could be split into pieces with just a touch." Chamber ran his fingers along your arms soothingly, bringing your figure gently into his arms.

"Everything is alright, everything is alright."

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