#a fellow tiny terror
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vipermenace · 1 year ago
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Micro Chibi Com for a friend!
Reminder my coms are open!
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yandere-wishes · 5 months ago
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༄。° Ice on Ice ༄。°
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𐙚 Yandere!Capitano Drabble
𐙚 Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, gore, manipulation
𝄞 Song: Kill V. Maim by Grimes
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⋆˙❅ He's molded you into his perfect darling. His perfect weapon ❅⋆˙
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚‧͙̩̩͙
It's always snowing in Snezhnaya .
Even in the dead of summer.
Capintano glides across the castle like a shadow. Shying away from the moonlight gleaming through the towering windows.
Ice slithers up his arm, forging into the hilt of his glacial sword.
He can smell your bloodlust in the air, good, you've already commenced the integration.
The lower levels of Zapolyarny castle speak only of terrors.
It's where the faithless come to die.
Traitors to Her Majesty.
It was where he'd kept you upon your initiation, where he burned you down and fabricated you anew.
His pretty little deadly thing.
So eager to please.
So loyal
The salty tang of blood permeating the air has his heart racing, furious war drum hammering in his chest. He follows the embers of your rage, standing by the threshold watching as you dig your knife deeper into the traitor's shoulder. Capitano basks in your raw fury. Your anger sweet on his tongue.
"Darling"
His voice is low, a whisper among the screams. Snowflake on ice and yet you still jump to attention. Run up to him with a sweet smile that doesn't quite suit the crimson specks adorning your cheeks.
His eyes glide across your taut body, spine straight, fingers up in salute. Your pyro delusion glowing gently at your waist. Ready to engrave his commands upon your bones.
"Master, the prisoner has confessed to carrying out treason against the crown. But he's yet to disclose the whereabouts of his fellow rebels."
"He will."
Capitano hands you his coat, relishing the delicate way you clench the heavy thing. Cradling it in your chest as if it's more precious than all the constatations above Tyvat. He pulls his helmet up, ever so slightly, enough to press his frigid lips against your cheek and lick the specks of blood. You freeze, fingers grasping the fuzzy pelt.
"Come watch, my darling"
He stalks towards the bloodied man, twirling his sword, letting the tiny ice splinters impale the traitor at random. The man cries, voice hoarse and weak. The slim glaciers replacing blood with frost.
You trail after him, lovesick and devotion in every step, his coat hanging from your shoulders.
Heavy burden upon frail shoulders, such a perplexing thing you are...
Capitano can't help but smile in satisfaction. He's molded you into perfection, sculpted you from the purest ice. He studies your work rigorously. Pain painted across the vile canvas. The traitor's right eye is missing, the socket scorched, torrid flesh pealing from his arms. His shirt ripped, rude stab wounds still fresh, still dripping ruby.
He's trained you well.
Trained you to make nation topple and archons bow. To bend the stars and flames with your fealty.
Maim and kill.
Because this world is too cruel for righteous little boys and naive little girls.
Kill and maim or else it will be done to you.
You pull the informer's hair back as Capitano lands a metal-clad punch to his face, blood sprays unceremoniously, spoiling Capintao's black-silver armor, followed by the familiar clatter of a tooth hitting the thinly iced floor.
Capintano steps back, braces himself for a moment then thrusts his sword into the rebel's thigh. Marring the sturdy hoar a rotten red. Frost blisters skin ripping the soft tissue underneath.
Ice chips bone
Meat falls to the cold ground.
The man screams, crying out locations and names in jetted tongue. His eyes slowly grow darker.
The blood continues to pool.
You clap your hands cheerfully. Letting the man's head fall forward "Well done master."
For a fleeting second, as you skip towards your master, you catch the traitor's picture in the odd light. You gulp, the creature staring back wears your face, your body, your skin. You see yourself in the dead stranger. Stubborn face and blank eyes. You blink and it's gone, a trick of the dark, one you're too eager to forget. Those days have passed, left to decay in snow-covered tombs. You are someone else now, more importantly, you are Capitano's lover, his most devoted soldier. No longer a gullible thing chasing after empty ideals.
Capitano towers over you. A stone pillar etched of ivory paragons. His iron fingers wrap around your smaller wrist as he pulls you forward. Your fingers lace through his ebony main, while your other hand pulls up the helmet, desperate for his kiss. Biting his lips and letting the blood from his armor stain your uniform. He pushes pain and loyalty down your throat with metallic spiced kisses. Replaces the pearls of your spine with molten lava and brimstone. His touches are frostbite running rampant across your body. Peeling away skin and inscribing mortality and ethereal strength into the soft tissue of your organs. Leaving your lungs corked with icy doctrines.
He has sculpted his style of blade work into your blood. Your veins pump explosions through your body.
Capitano's lips trace the expansion of your neck, savoring your essence between harsh kisses and harsher lovebites. You feel like a sword in his hands, meticulously forged with the finest steel. He has killed many apostates with you. Used you to serve the Tsaritsa without fail
Weapon of war, built from the corpse of a little lost girl.
The frenzy in your eyes, the cosmic thumb of your heart, the way your fingers claw, and the silver of skin of his neck.
Deadly deadly deadly.
He plays the role of the virtuous knight.
Only he's come to learn that many mistake virtue for pacifism.
No.
Love and loyalty are delicate threads entwined with massacre and pain.
You must kill to protect loyalty.
You must kill to protect love.
And how better to express both than in love letters penned with fresh scarlet and decay?
"Get rid of the body, we have much work to do." He raises his sword up to the thin ray of moonlight. For a second your reflection flashes across his icy sword, broken and damaged and perfect in every way. He gives you a final kiss on your templet. Before retrieving his coat and turning away. Disappearing in the dark.
You sigh, breath observable in the chill. Your fingers ignite, warmer and warmer. Preparing for another cremation.
Capitano smiles, ridged, grotesque. As a putrid sickly saccharine scent wafts through the castle's dungeon.
He's raised the perfect lover.
Devoted to a fault and stronger than any weapon.
He's looking forward to unleashing you upon the rebel's nest.
Looking forward to the dance of savage carnage.
It's summertime in Snezhnaya 
Although you couldn't tell from the snowy blizzard outside...
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When is Varka coming out? I want to be caged between the two of them so badly 😭😭
Also, guys, what if Capintano is Rustam or Arundolyn?? 🤔 I feel like I'm onto something
°🪼° @choueries @animelover6000 @viannasthings
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emacrow · 15 days ago
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The villains had been 'mildly' concerned about their fellow villain, scarecrow by emacrow/creator
He haven't been to the annual monthly meeting in 6 months after his quiet muttering that how he beat The Mistress of Fear plotting by destroying her psychology.
Only for him to stumbled a bit in the door with a heavy limp, a marriage ring that was a gem bejeweled carved in the shape of pumpkin head on his ring finger, his scarecrow pants inside out, his jacket was missing, revealing several black and orange lipsticks marks and hickies on his shoulder, his sack mask has a new decoration of a childish scribble doodles of a ghost and a stitches of a carved pumpkin with glowing emerald eyes that was the Mistress of Fear symbols on the backside with his curly hair longer then it usually was, sneaky a bit out under the sack.
He look like someone who got their soul devoured in one go during a one night stand,
He ignored the obvious stares and snickering of each and every one of the guys watching him sit in his personal seat.
"So did you found what Mistress of Fear plotted against you, Scarecrow?" Harley was the speak first, a chuckle on how Scarecrow glared sent her way, fixing his mask.
"Oh, I think he found it alright." Penguin snickered.
"Fuck, now I owe Cat lady 1000 bucks."
"S-shut up! Scarecrow growled back if he wasn't struggling with his legs so much being weak in the knees.
"I still don't believe that The Mistress of Fear married this guy when she as tall as Killer croc and he like-." Riddler emphasize the height between Mistress and Scarecrow.
"He survived the other dozen times he fought her. Hell, Joker is still in the isolated cell for extend time after what she done to him the first fight, but seeing this. I can see she pretty much destroyed the poor guy to the point of bedrest." Bane spoke quietly, which cause the roar of laughter to begin in the meeting table.
"Bet she had many treats and tricks for our poor scarecrow to be walking like baby deer like that."
....
....
....
Jonathan wanted to blow up the entire meeting with his newly tested extreme fear toxic bomb so badly, but he held his anger and embarrassed down tight, considering half the thing they were gossiping were the truth.
They didn't have a clue what he went through personally.
He could barely hold a shiver trying to rise up his back after what was his honeymoon, along with learning some deep dark secrets Lilith had in her closet after he tried to snoop into.
Her endless, glowing green otherworldly filled of the damned souls that the soulshredder hoard closet that sucked him in for what felt like eternity when it was only 5 minutes in there before he passed out from terror.
No wonder she wasn't afraid inhaling the damn fear toxic when she had a goddamn portal to hell in her bedroom.
What he got forced into marrying her was to destroy her, but he was now playing against the unknown element that Lilith was a mistress of.
He doesn't want to remember the Training schedule she set upon him, but the lessons..
Oh the lessons of learning about fear essence in souls, Jonathan was drooling like he was starving for every single word that Lilith was speaking during that entire session, not cause his heart was skipping a beat with how she grin about a certain topic in fear or how his palms drench in sweat and face burning hotter then lava watching her show him a tiny water drop size of Fear essence in her hands.
He never was sexually attracted to anyone women or man, much less desire to touch or have affection for, but at that moment seeing that sparkle of flaming interest and desire in lilith's eyes showing him that made all the blood in his head went south for the first time in ever was the most embarrassing thing in his entire life.
He was fucked.. even literally in the sense.
Previous pt 1 link<- pt 3 link here<-
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harryhighkey · 9 days ago
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183.
hi! this is my first ever Lee Byung-Hun/The Frontman one shot! I hope u like it! this man has taken over my life !!!!!!!!!!
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183.
That was the number that ticked over on the screen as the final vote was casted by Player 001. The people who voted to stay had won. You were in disbelief. Standing on the side of people who voted to leave this hell you were positive that this was the side that was going to win the vote.
How wrong you were.
183, this number was going to haunt you during your time here, which was ironic considering it was also the one that was labelled on your green tracksuit.
Now you stood in utter shock at this outcome. All 183 of them had witnessed the same brutal deaths that had only happened hours earlier, so how could they choose to stay?
You were frozen and your eyes were trained on the man who had been the 183rd vote. You kept watching as he turned to face everyone else. Half the room cheering and the other half disappointed. However, his expression was unique, a sinister smirk adorned his face that sent shivers down your spine.
------
The guards had demanded you had spent too much time in the bathroom and were making you return to the room the vote had taken place. It had been a long time, but you weren't doing anything wrong, you were so desperate for a moment alone to cry over your terrors which is exactly what you had been doing. You cursed yourself for not trying to do anything productive in looking for any chance to escape, there was a vent in the roof that you wanted to have a closer look at later.
Not wanting to draw attention to yourself as you walked back through the doorway, you kept your steps quick & quiet. You were about half way back to your bunk when you got stopped.
"Hey, now look at this pretty girl, I didn't notice you in the game today." Thanos. The purple haired, Player 230 had certainly let himself be noticed by everyone today.
"I was laying low, wouldn't you expect you to get it." You quipped back, keeping your head down due to the fact you could feel your eyes were puffy & were positive your nose was red from crying and you didn't need it pointed out.
"Why lay low, baby? We're here to have fun. We should have fun together!"
You scowled at the pet name and instantly snapped back, "I'm not interested in joining your tiny dick parade."
"Such a dirty mouth on a pretty girl! I'd like to know what else that mouth-"
Just as you were about to raise your voice and interrupt the unwelcomed comment by telling him to fuck off, someone beat you to it.
"Enough." It was another man's voice, this one much more commanding, not as loud but it was dominant.
Yourself & the purple haired man turned to who spoke up. It was him. The final voter. Player 001. You stood there with the only red 'X' on your green tracksuit out of the three of you yet he was coming to your aid, going against a fellow blue 'O.'
His eyes briefly landed on yours and you inhaled a sharp breath, you were so hyper-focused on him that you swore you noticed his face contort into a display of sympathy. Just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone just as fast and Player 001 was stone faced once more as he looked back to Player 230.
You watched the interaction between the two men, had something happened whilst you were in the bathroom? They were only saying a few words to each other but the tension was so high.
"Leave her alone." Was how Player 001 ended the moment and this man shocked you yet again as he caused the most bold player to follow his order and walk away from the two of you. Once Thanos was gone he turned back to you. Your chest going tense at the eye contact. "Are you-"
"I don't need your help." You quickly cut him off, already walking away from him so he didn't get a chance to answer. This unknown man had just come to your rescue, but he was also the deciding vote for staying in this hell. If you hadn't of rushed off so quick maybe you would have paid more attention to how his face softened when looking at you and maybe paid attention to the fact that part of you noticed how nice that felt.
------
"There you are."
You were laying on your side and the voice came from behind you, but you already knew who it was without seeing them. You'd heard that same deep voice hours earlier when it had come to your rescue. The only difference this time it was more hushed and closer to your ear.
"Go away." You didn't turn over to look at Player 001, you stubbornly stayed in place.
"I would like to talk to you."
"I'm sleeping."
"And conversing?"
"Sleep talking exists."
"Yours is quite advanced." His tone was light-hearted, but you were still on the defence. It wasn't lost on you that you had to protect yourself, being a female and much younger than a lot of the other contestants here. Player 001 included.
"Wait until you see how I sleep hit." You suddenly waved an arm back towards his direction, only for a firm grip of his hand coming around your wrist that quickly halted your movements.
He used his hold around your wrist to pull you so you were flat on your back. The movement was so fast, your strength was no match for his and now you were face to face. If you lifted your head the slightest bit from your pillow, your nose would graze his and that had your heart racing. Surely just because you were scared, not for any other reason.
Acting fast, you went to grab his hand with your spare one to try and free yourself, but he was faster and easily caught your second hand in his own second hand, trapping them both.
"If you are going to make it out of here alive, you need to keep that attitude of yours under control." His tone was serious now, his fingers tightening ever so slightly. You were so vulnerable right now, your breath was coming out in quick pants, your wide-eyed gaze had become frightened as you were forced to look into his stern one.
"Please let go of me." Your voice came out shaky, tears began to well in your eyes. He had scared you. Your hands were freed and you swiftly moved to sit up and move to a corner of your little bed to put some space between you and this man.
His face softened, the same way it had when he looked at you earlier and would have noticed the after effects of crying being present on your face. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Well you did."
"I'm sorry." He apologised and you didn't know what to say. "May I sit for a moment?" He asked so politely, his tone now gentle. You took a second before nodding your head and he sat on the side of your bed, facing you. "I don't want you to die in here."
"I don't want to either. That's why I voted to leave." At that response, his eyes fell to the red 'X' labelled on your outfit before lifting to find your gaze once more.
"Let me help you in here."
"I don't need your-"
"You do." He cut you off, his words were impactful. You clenched your jaw.
"No I don't."
"Yes."
"No."
He huffed and dropped his head into his hand, rubbing his fingertips into his temples. "Stubborn girl."
You watched him silently, a million thoughts running through your head. Part of you still felt afraid, but another part of you was curious about him, you almost felt drawn to him. Your eyes were trained on his fingers massaging his own head and before you had a chance to think about what you were about to ask, you already blurted it out. "Can you rub my head like that?"
"What?" He paused his movements and looked at you again, an expression of confusion present on his face.
God, he had a handsome face.
"I know it's a weird request but I can't sleep and I'm exhausted. I'll never able to sleep here and I will obviously need energy for tomorrow and my head getting rubbed always makes me sleepy." You spoke fast, rambling your words out and you could feel your face heating up in embarrassment as he continued to stare at you in surprise. Which only got worse when he let out a quiet laugh which made you put your head in your hands and let out a little whine. "Forget it-"
"I'll do it." Yet again he cut you off and his response made your heart beat harder.
The two of you sat there looking at one another in silence. You were memorising the details of his face when he snapped you out of it.
"Are you going to lay down?"
"Oh, yes." You returned to your original position of laying down on your side, this time your back was leaning against his leg as he stayed in his spot.
When his fingers combed into your hair and made contact with your scalp, you took a deep breath at the soothing movements he began making.
"Like this?"
"Yes, just like that."
"Close your eyes." You finally listened to him without arguing back and fluttered your eyes closed.
The more you focused on the feeling of Player 001's fingers dancing such peaceful patterns along your scalp, the more you relaxed back against him and forgot about where you were. In your mind, only the two of you existed in this moment.
Maybe the next time he offered help, you wouldn't be so quick to fight back.
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fitzjamesbulletwound · 1 month ago
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well i finally made it... here's my episode by episode deep dive into every joplittle moment in the entirety of the terror for all of my fellow joplittle freaks out there. i can't draw or write fiction but i CAN be insane about details :) i did my best to edit this so please forgive me if there's typos or things that don't make sense. and a final note before you start reading- i think i make a point to say this in some instances but it bears repeating at the beginning- i could certainly be wrong about some of these observations as they are largely in the background and usually happen very quickly while something more front facing is happening in the scene. i did my best though!
Episodes 1&2- basically nothing, at the dinner scene in episode 1 we can infer that jopson shuffles behind edward at one point but there’s no onscreen proximity or eye contact. neither of them are in episode 2 at all. 
Episode 3: we have one of the joplittle scenes to end all joplittle scenes in this episode. When edward is talking to crozier, blanky, jirv, and hodgson about his fears of netsilik retribution, jopson knocks and walks in the door. When he enters the room, edward immediately stops talking, makes eye contact with him, then starts tugging his jacket down, almost to the point of squirming and fidgeting. Jopson walks into the room making eye contact with edward with the tiniest smile on his face and his eyes are so bright and interesting in this scene. And i think there could be some arguments made that this is just how these two are but i have some additional thoughts- yes edward is an awkward guy but he outranks so many people in that room, jopson most of all, and yet he immediately stops speaking and becomes visibly flustered when jopson walks in. And their eye contact lingers for such a long time before jopson looks to crozier, the person he actually came to address. And just again with how bright jopson’s eyes are and the tiny tiny smile he has on his face when he’s looking at edward that then turns a little more serious when he turns to address crozier. It’s such an interesting scene! 
later on when the terror boys are going across the ice to sir john’s funeral, jopson is walking behind edward… he might be looking at him but it’s very hard to tell so i hesitate to even include that instance. HOWEVER during the camera pan when crozier is reading sir john’s eulogy, we see jopson looking up at one point, and then his gaze briefly comes down to the person directly in front of him… which is edward. 
Episode 4: When crozier is sitting in the dark drunk and depressed and probably listening to the cranberries and jopson comes in, the script says he shows somebody down the hall five fingers, probably to indicate “give me five minutes”. Since he then says that lieutenant little is asking about the meeting, we can presume they came to see crozier together. 
When jopson is giving crozier the headlines of the meeting, the way he talks about what he knows from edward sounds more like it was from an actual conversation they had vs the other two he mentions- he says “mr reid reports” and “lieutenant irving has what sounds like a pressing issue”- both of these expressions imply that he was doing exactly what crozier says he does- hearing everything. but with edward it’s “lieutenant little is wondering, he says/thinks this this and this”. The language used to describe what he knows about what edward will report on is much more direct and familiar. I think ned and jopson were hanging out before they came to see about the meeting with crozier hehe
In the scene where heather gets his shit rocked it’s very hard to keep track of edward and jopson but there is proximity and it’s very possible a few times that they might exchange glances. It certainly seems that when edward goes below decks to arm the men jopson watches him go. 
Episode 5 ended up being the most fruitful for pretty clear glances and looks that i had never noticed before
when jopson comes in with the tea tray he and edward look at each other the whole time Jopson is walking to the table to set it down
after Jopson says “consider it done sir” edward watches him as he walks out of the room until crozier stops him, then he looks at crozier
Ned could definitely still be looking as Jopson answers crozier, the line of sight is correct and in the script it specifically says that little has to look away from Jopson (not crozier) as they discuss the whiskey because it makes him so sick that this is being discussed right after talking about hornby’s death
A lot of proximity during the Silna and crozier conversation but I don’t think they look at each other.. Jopson might be looking at Edward when he walks in with silna and he might glance at him when he walks past him after setting the tea tray back down but I’m not sure. 
In the script it says that jopson and little exchange a look when crozier says he’ll go to get the alcohol for blanky’s surgery but it looks like it’s him and hodgson looking at each other.. however edward looks at someone offscreen too that would make sense to where jopson is standing at the time. There’s a lot of proximity in that scene where they carry blanky down and set him on the table
Damn that extremely prolonged eye contact when taking the whiskey shots is so interesting too? Especially since it seems like jopson struggles to take the shot.. It seems like he might not drink a lot and that could be for 2 reasons- another callback to historical jopson and him being lashed 30 something times for drunkenness or it could be because of his mother’s addiction which at this point in the story we don’t even know about it. Either one would make sense but if anyone has any ideas please share them
they are right next to each other while blanky gets his leg cut off
In the script it says that jopson brings edward into the room for the meeting with crozier after blanky’s surgery, I believe they are the last two to join but even if not.. interesting for sure.
when crozier stands up to give the whiskey to jopson to pour out, Jopson is looking down but for just a moment before he turns to crozier again he looks at edward
Aaaaaand edward then watches crozier take the last drink of whiskey but then he looks right at Jopson!!!!
When crozier goes to his berth it pans over to Jopson and he eventually looks at ned AGAIN
Ugh I loved this episode because there was truly so much to notice and like it’s there! I need to know why!!
Episode 6: okay we have one of THE joplittle scenes and god fucking bless Liam for his commentary here because there’s just so much to it… like the fact that he’s trying to convey to Edward that things are bad but they will be okay with a single look suggests such a familiarity and closeness and understanding between them because like how would you communicate that with a look to someone that you weren’t on fairly intimate terms with?? (need to make post about other pairs that talk through eye contact in the show, like hickey and tozer). at the very least we have to assume they confide in each other and understand each other to a certain degree and like now we’re slightly straying into delulu land but I love how protective Edward looks when hickey walks over and kinda gets close to jopson lol edward is already watching jopson walk away and he gives hickey this little glare when he realizes hickey is too. also just the simple fact that they were eating together??
When Reid bumps into crozier at carnivale and little tells him to step back he’s looking at jopson and when it cuts to jopson he’s looking back at him
They exchange a glance in the background of crozier reacting to hoar and crispe in the big pot lol
Jopson watches Edward for most of the little clip where crozier is walking away after telling the men to get of the pot
After crozier says they’ll be abandoning the ships and walking Edward looks over at jopson for a long time
When crozier is saying “they are a good people who we can greet as friends” jopson looks over at Edward and looks him up and down twice… that’s 4k babyyyy, that one was crazy
When Stanley sets himself on fire and it cuts to the crowd Edward definitely looks around until he sees jopson in front of him
It’s extremely hard to tell but at one point it looks like ned crozier and jopson are all moving together looking for an exit and ned briefly puts his hand on jopson’s back or at the very least reaches for his back wtffffff
Mmm not sure about this one but in the background of the cleanup scene you can see Edward helping people and it looks like jopson may be with him
Episode 7: ugh the promotion sceeeeene idk what i can say that hasn’t already been said but i will always always always point out that this is the happiest we EVER see Edward in the show, his smile is so huge and throughout the scene he keeps giggling to himself and when he’s still sitting down you can see him kinda do an eyebrow raise thing like “oh my god well I wasn’t expecting that but this is amazing” HE LOVES THAT MAN UUUGH AND THE WAAAAY he looks so fondly at him after he shakes his hand and he just keeps smiling and giggling like everyone is so happy in this scene but Edward is the happiest…
Episode 8: when crozier is yelling at edward for arming the mutiny jopson is turned around watching ned.. Ugh :( 
another shot of jopson turning to look at ned before he looks at crozier in this scene 
eye contact when Edward walks into the tent where Irving’s body is
definitely some potential eye contact when they’re asking hodgson to confirm that hickey lied
jopson watches Edward when he’s explaining why they shouldn’t trust the marines
edward is looking at jopson right before crozier says to find the carpenters
Episode 9: what i believe is the last joplittle scene…. god it’s so rough. I feel like jopson is so hurt because he knows his time is coming and i feel like Edward thinks everyone in that tent including jopson will be able to continue to haul south… ugh and then jopson just stares Edward down the whole time when dundy starts talking :(
Episode 10: when edward is walking to the tent to address the men his gaze lingers on the sick tent where jopson is now…
i also find it very interesting that he was all about going south and leaving the sick behind in episode 9 but completely changes his tune now- i know that this has to do with saving crozier but he makes such a strong argument for not leaving the ill behind (although he of course obviously somehow does) that it makes me wonder if jopson had anything to do with that.. like a big difference between when they first made the proposal and now is that jopson could still haul when they suggested it before but he can’t now
And his reasonings point to jopson a lot too- “9 so ill they can’t walk, only 2 able bodied lieutenants” like he was thinking of him!!
and one last fucking thing before I fucking die- edward’s last word “close?” mirrors some of jopson’s first- “we’re close sir”.. They are the last two to be found by crozier, two of the men who saw almost everything and died last… ugh. 
Final thoughts: i will constantly make the argument that when it comes to the terror, absolutely nothing is on accident. Nothing. Some of the scenes i described can certainly be debated but the simple fact is, edward and jopson spend a lot of their scenes together exchanging looks and watching each other. It is safe to assume based on their roles that they must share at least a small amount of familiarity but i think that these shared glances suggest a deeper connection. They seem to be able to communicate seamlessly without ever really speaking to one another and when they aren’t communicating through their eyes, they are still watching each other in shared scenarios. I would love to know more about whether this was just how liam and matthew chose to act their dynamic or if there’s more to say about them. Either way i’m going to keep being delusional about them because i love them together and i think there’s ample evidence to prove that they are more familiar than we might realize
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liliacamethyst · 2 years ago
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So apologies if in advance this is in anyway triggering but I had an idea for a great angsty reveal and all I ask is to be heard out
It involves a miscarriage scare, not that it happens but the scare happens. Here’s the bare bones prompt:
During a mission Sun Spider (ie us) got really bad cramps and is of course terrified that she’s having a miscarriage. As soon as she’s able to she rushes to her place and sets up the ultrasound. (I was kinda thinking the reader were a doctor or nurse of sorts, or at least know another spider who is that would keep the secret.) She wanders the wand and begs that the baby is okay, finally breathing a sigh of relief when she hears the heartbeat and sees her tiny one. Unbeknownst to her Miguel had followed her….
Ahhh this is so angsty and good. Thank you so much Jesse! I thought it would be perfect to combine it with this comment by @fleeingdawn-blog1 :
"Imagine him being FURIOUS that you slept with someone else, the screaming and all the vitriol he would spit your way. Then the dawning horror when he slowly pieces it together and feels his world fall apart around him."
So, because you guys are amazing and have even more amazing ideas, here's another alternate reveal Drabble:
In the middle of an intense mission, you feel an agonizing pain in your lower abdomen. It's a sharp, cramping sensation that doubles you over and forcing you to stop in your tracks. You clutch your stomach, dread sinking in. No, it can't be... Please, no.
You have to leave. You have to get home.
Making some vague excuse to your fellow Spider-people, you swing off, all while trying to ignore the terror building up inside of you. “Please, please let my baby be okay,” you whisper to no one in particular. You had never prayed so hard.
You're careful as you swing, each movement precise so as to avoid jostling too much. As soon as you reach your apartment you rush inside, immediately heading to the hidden medical room you've set up.
You're not a doctor, but you're resourceful. You had to be. You had to protect your baby.
Setting up the ultrasound, your hands tremble with anxiety. You take deep breaths, trying to stay calm for the sake of your unborn child. Picking up the device, you slowly move it across your belly, your eyes glued to the screen, your ears straining to hear that precious heartbeat.
And then you see it. The tiny flicker on the screen, the reassuring beat that echoes through the room. Your baby is alive. The relief washes over you like a wave, tears prickling your eyes. You breathe out a shaky laugh, one hand coming up to cover your mouth.
"You're okay... oh, thank god, you're okay," you whisper, tears streaming down your face. You continue to stare at the screen, memorizing every curve, every line of your tiny baby. You're so wrapped up in your relief and joy, you don't hear the door creak open.
Miguel, who had silently followed you, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He's staring at you, at the screen, at the clear image of your unborn child.
As Miguel’s gaze moves between the ultrasound screen and you, something inside him snaps. His face contorts, his nostrils flare, and his eyes flash with a fury you have never seen before, turning even more red than usual.
“What is this?! Who is he?!” Miguel’s voice fills the room as he points toward the screen.
“Miguel...” you start, but he cuts you off, his voice now a roar.
“WHO’S IS HE? DIME!” Miguel’s words are like knives, slashing through the air.
You’re cowering back, tears streaming down your face. “Mi... Miguel, please, just...”
“WHO ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH, HUH?” He's practically spitting the words at you, venom dripping from every syllable.
“HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!” he bellows. His eyes are wild, his rage all-consuming.
“I... I didn’t... you...” You’re stuttering, trying to get the words out, trying to tell him the truth, but his anger is like a tidal wave, overwhelming you.
And then just like that, in the midst of his rage something changes. His gaze flicks to the ultrasound screen again, and his face goes pale. The room is deathly silent except for your ragged breathing and the rhythmic beating of the baby's heart on the ultrasound monitor.
He blinks. Once. Twice. His voice drops to a whisper. “How... how far along...?”
“Three months,” you manage to whisper back, choking on your tears.
His brain races, the timeline whirring in his head. Realization dawns on him like a cold sunrise.
“Is it...?” His voice is barely audible, a ghost of its former fury.
You nod, tears streaming down your face. “Yes, Miguel. It’s yours.”
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smilesatdawnmain · 3 months ago
Note
Have you ever thought of how The Day The World Eclipsed would be, if you made it with Xiotain and MK. Cause like I could see Wukong being ran ragged by two little toddlers. But then I can also imagine how adorable it would be when Macaque met the twins, the original meet scene was adorable, but like it would be even more adorable! Just a thought I had!
WELL DANG IT!!
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Macaque's voice was hoarse as he whispered, "Here? You mean... now?" He had anxiously awaited the chance to meet his child, but he hadn't expected it to happen so quickly!
Wukong acknowledged with a nod, his gaze shifting towards the direction his clone was approaching from. Macaque tensed, his eyes tracking the route into the distance. Though there was no one in sight yet, he could clearly hear their approach.
The sound of the nimbus cloud cutting through the air filled his ears along with the chatter of Wukong's clones, who were busy answering trivial questions. And then he heard something else- the faint beating of two tiny hearts.
He inhaled sharply, startled when chirps filled his ears, consuming his waking breath with their high pitched tone and sweet resonance. 
“Two…?” he whispered. He touched his ears, confused and spooked. “I-I hear two??” he looked to Wukong for answers, “Why do I hear two?!”
His ex-partner gave him a puzzled sideways glance, then his lips formed a sheepish smile. "I-I'm sorry Mihou," he stammered, realizing his mistake. In the midst of his excitement and nervousness, he had forgotten to mention a crucial detail about their son's birth. Or should he say, sons? "You thought you heard one heartbeat, but there were actually two," Wukong muttered, his eyes focused on the approaching sounds. "We have twins, Mihou. Beautiful little twins."
"Twins?" Macaque echoed. He took a step back, blinking rapidly as if it would clear the confusion. He had been bracing himself for fatherhood, had been preparing himself for one child, one baby monkey. But two? There was a flutter in his chest that he couldn't describe, an odd mixture of terror and joy. It was too soon. Everything was too sudden. Twins? How could he handle twins?
Just before he could express his worries, Wukong's clone glided into view on a nimbus cloud, swooping around the tree line before landing. The clone dismounted and Macaque quickly slipped behind Wukong's back, hoping to avoid being seen by the curious cubs who were about to appear. Wukong in turn tensed, eyes wide and tail holding perfectly still. He scratched his cheek awkwardly, trying not to smile when he felt Macaque’s hands holding onto his back to steady himself.
“Deep Breathes,” he instructed.
Macaque panted, struggling.
The clone was soon joined by the rest of his fellow clones, each of them grinning with the joy of introducing the two newest members of their family to Macaque. They stood aside to allow Wukong's original body to step forward, making room for him to approach the eagerly chirping young ones, who seemed engulfed in their own little conversation. The toddlers each with their own little backpack, filled with things for their day.
Xiaohua was attempting to descend from the cloud, his pudgy leg reaching out in search of solid ground but coming up short. He chirped a call for his Daddy to help him, all while MK watched curiously. One of the clones stepped closer, scooping Xiaohua up from his arm pits to instead settle him back on the cloud.
“Wait a moment, Bud,” the clone mused. Xiaohua pouted, wanting to explore.
Macaque's heart raced, finding it was hard to breathe. His mind spun with questions, his pulse thrumming in time with the joyful chirps. As Wukong grinned and walked forward, Macaque swallowed hard, his palms sweating against each other as he clutched his ex-partner’s back tighter, half hiding behind him.
"Wukong," Macaque stammered, unable to look at his ex-lover as he tried to calm his erratic heartbeat. "I... I can't, I..."
"Shh, it's okay," Wukong cut in gently, reaching back to squeeze Macaque's hand reassuringly. "You don't need to do anything. Just meet them." there was a small twinkle in his eyes, “They are excited to meet you.”
Macaque sharply lifted his head, “They are…?”
"Of course," Wukong replied warmly. "They've heard so much about their Baba, they can't wait to meet you." He extended his arm out for Macaque to come out.
Macaque hesitated for a moment longer before slowly stepping out from Wukong's back.
His heart thumped against his ribcage as he stood in front of the two tiny monkeys. Their eyes were brimming with innocence and wonder, their features an endearing blend of their parents' traits.
“Oh…” Macaque whimpered, these two everything he thought they would be and more. Macaque touched his chest in awe, happy to just- just stare. They were so small and perfect. One had chocolate brown fur, his eyes as golden as Wukong’s with six little ears on his head like him. On his face was a little heart with a spot of freckles upon his chubby cheeks. The second, had fur almost pure white, like when he himself was little, before it turned black. He had Macaque’s color face marking, that shaped similar to a butterfly. Macaque’s eye brows, Macaque’s eyes… But both had Wukong’s grin.
He made a sound similar to a whimper.
"Dada!" The little one with golden eyes, MK, chimed, breaking the silence. He had noticed his Father and stood, pausing when he saw Macaque. His eyes doubled in size to the stranger and yet- he knew who this was. His Dada had been telling him all week. This was his Baba.
His Baba he was finally getting to meet.
Wukong grinned as he waited for Macaque to speak and introduce himself. Instead, all Macaque did was gape, speechless under the magnitude of the moment.The toddlers were oblivious to how their appearance had turned their Father into a stammering mess, just curious of this new adult.
“Xiaoxiao-” ML reached out for his Brother’s hand, who was still preoccupied by the new land around them, distracted. “Xiaoxiao,” silencing the chippering scamp to also turn his head, MK pointed to their Baba. “Look,” As soon as Xiaohua saw Macaque he ducked his head a little behind his brother, clearly shy.
“Macaque, this is Xiaotian and Xiaohua.” Wukong gestured to them both. “Boys… Meet your Baba.” Wukong added softly, reaching over to gently squeeze Macaque's shoulder. "This is your Father."
The little one with white fur, Xiaohua, peeked up from behind his brother, his eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and shyness. He'd heard stories about his Baba, tales of bravery and strength and kindness. And now here he was, standing right in front of him, as pretty as the moon.
Macaque sucked in a sharp breath as he looked at them, his heart aching with an overwhelming surge of love. He was entranced by their curious gazes and the familiarity of their features - the softness of their cheeks and eyes. They were perfect. Everything he dreamed they would be. Oh gods-… he was gonna cry.
"Wukong," Macaque managed to choke out, his voice blubbering, "They're... they're beautiful." He reached out a shaky hand, as if to touch them, but quickly retracting it as if he thought he might burn them if he did.
Seeing his struggles, Wukong shifted with his hand to lower the nimbus cloud to the ground, slowly guiding Macaque in the same direction, “Let’s all sit down,” he says gently. Macaque didn’t try to argue, letting himself be lowered to his trembling knees.
The world felt surreal as Macaque settled on the soft grass, the ground cradling him in a way that felt both grounding and weightless at the same time. As he sat there, surrounded by the warmth of Wukong’s presence and the innocent awe radiating from his children, he finally exhaled—a long, shaky breath that released a cascade of emotions he hadn’t known he was holding.
This was real.
This was happening.
He was a Baba.
"Come here, loves," Wukong encouraged softly, motioning for Xiaotian and Xiaohua to join them. The boys looked at each other, sharing a glance. As they debated listening to their Dada, Macaque’s ears flattened, a strange heat on his face.
Wukong’s soft and sweet call to the kids had been… adorably sweet, and it had startled him. They were his loves…
He cursed himself for finding his sweetness to them endearing.
“Coming, Dada,” MK was rolling off the cloud first, a bit braver to strangers then his Brother. He wobbled forward, sniffing the hair with a velvety nose. Xiaohua quickly followed suit, his small face peering up at Macaque from behind MK. As soon as they got close enough to his Dada, realizing MK wasn’t going to stop-, he rushed from behind Xiaotian to Wukong, hiding behind his back just as Macaque had a little bit ago. “Daddy,” he whispered.
Wukong smiles, rubbing Xiaohua’s back assuringly, “Yes?”
The child’s fingers clung tightly to Wukong’s shirt, his eyes never leaving Macaque’s face. “He’s got six ears, Daddy,” he pointed to them.
MK was bouncing, grasping his ears, “Like me!!”
Xiaohua nodded, “Like MK…”
“MK?” Macaque asked, looking at Wukong. Wukong blinked a few times then laughed sheepishly again.
“Like um.. M-Monkey Kid?” he says.
Macaque’s jaw fell open, stunned, yet also not surprised at all that Wukong would name on of their sons after him… AND ADORABLY SO! He clicked his teeth in a clear annoyance, but paused when MK patted his chest.
“Monkey Kid!” he declared, a savior to his Father, who exhaled in relief. “And Xiaoxiao is- uh… Xiaoxiao.”
“I’m Xiaoxiao,” the other toddler nodded, stepping out a bit more, “I-I like- I like Mangos.”
Macaque stared at him, a soft smile spreading across his face. What an innocent thing to say. “Mangos, hm?”
“I like peaches!” MK waved his hands around, getting close enough to stand before his Baba. Without hesitation he was scampering into Macaque’s lap, eager to touch is clothes, his scarf, and the fur of his arms. Macaque held perfectly still, letting the child do as he wished. His lips were squiggly, trying to hold back any tears.
The child smelled like sweetbread and milk, so sweet and eyes so round. He was talking more and more, Macaque bobbing his head and listening intently.
“I like to color, and paint- but I gotta be careful cause-cause I make messes. I help clean messes.” he babbled a few things, most slurred and unable to be fully understood in his toddler talk.
“I-I see,” Macaque nodded, his voice strangled but his smile sweet.
Xiaohua peeked out from behind Wukong, his shyness still evident in the way he tucked his chin. Still, it looked like so much fun over there-, “Daddy, can I… can I sit with Baba too?” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.
“Of course you can,” Wukong replied, his tone gentle and encouraging. He bent down slightly, offering a reassuring smile that seemed to fill the air with warmth. “Go on, It’s okay.”
Macaque turned his head quickly to the approaching toddler, eyes wide. He swallowed thickly, slowly opening his arm a little in hopes to entice the boy closer.
With hesitant steps, Xiaohua made his way forward, glancing back at Wukong for reassurance before flopping into Macaque's lap beside MK. MK didn’t stop talking the entire time, his tail wagging and slapping at Macaque’s arm with little control.
“And I like juice and toys and- Hi Xiaoxiao- and blankies and—and Dada’s stories!” MK beamed, his enthusiasm spilling over like a bubbling pot.
Xiaohua nestled closer to Macaque, drawn in by the warmth radiating from his Baba. A shy smile broke through his timid demeanor as he clutched the edges of Macaque's scarf, feeling its silky softness between his fingers.
Macaque’s heart swelled with an unfamiliar joy, and it was all he could do not to break into a grin. He felt like a giant in their little world, these tiny beings weaving themselves into his life with laughter and innocence. “Stories, hmm?” he repeated softly, looking between the two boys.
“I like stories,” Xiaohua whispered.
“Do you?” Macaque’s voice was a melody, soothing and rich as he leaned closer to the boys. “What kind of stories do you like?” He closed one of his eyes when MK suddenly touched his cheek, startled when his pudgy hand curiously explored the expanse of his Baba’s face.
“Adventures!” MK shouted excitedly, his eyes sparkling, “Like when Dada fights bad guys and saves everyone!”
“Adventures,” Xiaohua nodded. He reached his little hand up to copy his brother, hesitating. Instead he touched Macaque’s chin lightly, curling his fingers through the fur there.
Macaque turned into his hand a little, eyes fluttering for a moment. Xiaohua smelled like wild mountain flowers…
The two of them together had to be the sweetest smell he had ever encountered.
MK gently patted Macaque’s velvety muzzle. He watched the older monky wiggle his nose in response, and felt his own nose crinkle in anticipation. MK examined Macaque's facial marking next. It was a deeper shade of red than his own, with intricate little hills that forked off from the center in a unique pattern. The color was like Xiaoxiao’s.
Then, there was his fur.
MK’s fingertips ran across the small white patch of fur near Macaque’s right eye. Perhaps age, perhaps stress- perhaps the effects of the Witch's magic; Macaque wasn't sure.
At the touch of it, Mihou flinched, holding his breath as his Child investigated, tilting his head curiously at the altering color of fur. Delving into the blacker tufts, he rubbed the strands between his fingers.
"Its..." he trailed off. Macaque's lower lip trembled, not sure how to explain that his fur just wasn't that soft. MK's eyes lifted, a sparkle to them. "XiaoXiao,” he gasped, as if realizing something and wanting to share with his Brother.
“It’s like blankie,"Xiaoxiao had already caught on, curiously touching Macaque’s fur.
Macaque openly stared. Huh??
MK and Xiaohua tugged themselves closer, tails swaying behind them as they examined their Baba for the first time. Little fingers exploring, searching, mapping out Macaque’s face to memory as they had done with their Dada so many times before. 
“They have a blanket,” Wukong spoke, since the children were too distracted to answer, “It’s their favorite thing. I’ve used it since they were babies,” when Macaque looked at him with an emotional look, his voice grew softer, “You remind them of their favorite thing.”
Macaque blinked, the weight of Wukong's words settling over him like a gentle fog. He felt a rush of warmth bloom in his chest, an unfamiliar tightening that tugged at something deep within. "Like their favorite thing," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. The thought echoed in his mind as he continued to feel the boys' tiny hands traversing the terrain of his fur, discovering every ridge and curve. MK didn’t hesitate to bury his face against Macaque’s shoulder to nuzzle him, startling the older man.
He dare not move, shifted, or lift his arms, less he scare the children- but that didn’t seem to stop them from doing whatever they wished with his own form.
“Baba,” MK tells him, watching Macaque’s eyes tremble at the use of the name, “You smell like chocolate.”
Xiaohua gasped, standing on his Baba’s lap to press his face to his neck. “Chocolate?” he gasped, making Wukong snicker, knowing how much his second son loved the treat, “Chocolate!!” he squealed.
Macaque blinked a few times, trying to sniff his own fur. When Wukong only nodded knowingly, he figured it had to be true.
Macaque stared at his son, mouth agape. His brow furrowed as he opened and closed his mouth in slow motion, unable to find the right words.
MK scampered up Macaque's arm and onto his shoulder, chittering excitedly with an unmistakable tone of acceptance, adoration, and delight. Xiaohua was bouncing, giggling as his shyness fell, touching Macaque’s ears next. He rubbed them, always touching MK’s ears too since they were soft. Macaque felt awash with elation as MK and Xiaohua squeaked in admiration.
He understood nothing that was happening, but his children seemed happy with him. His children... liked him.
Macaque's voice sputtered out like a radio station losing its signal. "MM-hmm," he managed to utter, but his ears betrayed him as they twitched in different directions. His vision blurred...
He quietly cursed.
Macaque’s face crumpled, tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto his scarf. His body trembled as the silent sobs wracked him.
Wukong’s broad smile faded as he watched those heartbreaking tears. His heart yearned to reach out and brush away the tears that had started to roll down Mihou's cheeks, but he stayed rooted in his spot, feeling helpless. He wanted to offer Mihou comfort, yet his presence seemed like the last thing Mihou desired. 
“Oo…” Xiaohua felt a droplet fall onto his nose and looked up to see the monkey's eyes closed, face wet and quivering. His chest heaved with emotion as his children reached up and tenderly patted his stained cheek. “Baba sad?” Xiaohua asked. He got a little closer, hugging the man and pressing his head to his chest. MK hugged Macaque’s head, patting it.
“Shh..shh..” He leaned up and gently pressed his lips to Macaque's chin, just like his Dada had done when he was feeling down.
Macaque's shoulders sagged, and a whimper escaped his lips. He tugged the boys further into his arms, his hands trembling.
His sons. His babies.
He was never letting them go again.
----
HOW DARE YOU PUT THIS IN MY BRAINNNNN!
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pinkanonwrites · 8 months ago
Text
The Immensity of Vacancy
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Energon Universe Jetfire/Human Reader, +1200 words
Just a little bittersweet something I wrote after the last issue of the Skybound comics came out. Jetfire my sweet, you did not deserve your fate.
ENERGON UNIVERSE COMIC SPOILERS AHEAD.
It was curious how even the most harrowing of circumstance could, with enough time and enough patience, shear down its jagged edges until it became something nearly palatable. 
Not comfortable. Primus, no, never comfortable. But palatable.
Stars no longer graced Jetfire’s curious optics, all light snuffed in favor of an inky nothingness soothed only by memory. There could be no ache of stasis lock when the freedom of movement had been ripped from his frame entirely, left to the whims of his fellow Cybertronians. The breems of silence would stretch into cycles, tuning his remaining audials ever finer upon the low thrum of Teletraan, the rattle-step of Autobots passing through corridors below. 
Perhaps that was why he could always hear you coming.
Your footsteps didn't boom or echo like those of Optimus Prime, never accompanied with the screech of tires like Arcee or Cliffjumper. Instead came the soft tink tink tink of tiny, booted feet against the resonant floor, the jangle of metallic jibbitz swinging from a clip on your belt. ‘Keys’ you had called them, though they were nothing like the data-keys or passcodes more familiar to him. ‘One for my car, one for my house, one for the back door at work.’ Primitive, but undeniably clever. 
You always paused in the doorway of the hangar when you approached, a brief instance of silence. Perhaps you were waiting for a transformation from him, a flourish of panels shifting and plates fluttering into place to reveal his root mode, his towering form compared to your own tiny one. You knew as well as he did that idea was an impossibility, but you paused nonetheless.
“Hey. Are you awake?”
Jetfire spent much time in recharge nowadays, the only respite from the insurmountable emptiness that surrounded him that remained in his control. It was another consistency from you, willing to let him rest for untold lengths of time, as if your own presence was not wildly preferred.
“Yes. For quite a while now.”
You let out a soft, sad sounding hum. “I’m sorry I couldn't get here earlier.”
“That's alright. I’m sure you have much of your own work to attend to.”
“Maybe, but it's not really anything exciting.” He could hear the shuffle and thunk of your backpack hitting the metal landing bay, the pull of the zipper. When you settled in your spot on the floor and leaned back against his landing gear, heat radiated through the space where your back pressed to his cool plating. “Work, mostly. Had a late shift last night, so I ran to the library this morning instead. The librarian actually recognized me.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, I just didn't expect it. I never went there until recently, anyway. Guess now that I’m going in a couple days a week I’m becoming a regular. Imagine that.”
Jetfire let out a soft hum. “We’ll never be wanting for reading material then.”
You seemed to hesitate for a moment as you removed something from your bag, the flutter of paper against your fingertips tickling his audials.
“I brought a new book. ‘The War Of The Worlds’. It’s an old sci-fi classic.” You softly fanned through the pages again. “It’s about, um… It’s about aliens. That come to take over Earth. It was probably a stupid choice, we can read something different if you want.”
He could understand your hesitation. Though Jetfire had not spent long interacting with the local lifeforms of your planet, he’d heard more than enough from the other Autobots about the occurrences at the power plant; The terror, the violence. The story of a hostile occupation from beings infinitely more powerful and dangerous than the planet’s inhabitants could strike offensive if presented in the wrong way, to the wrong bot. And yet…
“I would like to hear it.”
He couldn’t help that part of himself that yearned to understand. To learn. How often would he get the chance to hear the perspective of another species, better yet from the species themselves? Considering his current state, likely never again.
“Are you sure? It doesn’t have to be this, I brought other books. To Kill A Mockingbird, Treasure Island, maybe some Shakespeare-?”
“No, I… I want to hear it. I’d like to understand.”
You hesitated further still, as if you were waiting for Jetfire to change his mind. Then you let out a small, huffy noise, like you were trying to clear your vents. Jetfire recognized the sound to be what you’d called a “sniffle”. Paper shuffled, you let out a low, steadying sigh, and began to read.
“No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man’s and yet as mortal as his own…”
You were a delightful narrator, though you’d often brush off Jetfire’s compliments as to the former. ‘You should hear David Attenborough!’ you’d reply, though Jetfire had no idea who this apparent man was. Your cadence and accent would adjust slightly when switching characters, like you were putting on a play. The first descriptions of the alien conquerors were read with a faux suspense, as if you could scare the Cybertronian with narration alone. And yet, when you came upon the paragraph describing the first human deaths, there did your energy began to falter. You shifted against his landing gear, swallowing thickly as you described the heat ray that jumped from man to man, ‘...as if each man were suddenly and momentarily turned to fire.’ Your hesitance didn’t seem to stem from the words themselves, but the context in who you were reading them to. Did the recent Decepticon attack on the hospital strike as close to home mentally as it did physically?
You paused again at the end of the chapter. Usually here Jetfire would have rattled off the questions he’d saved while you were reading, foreign concepts and names of unknown locations and the intricacies of human interaction that he didn’t quite comprehend. But he found himself in silence here as well. Not stunned, not scared, merely… contemplative.
“Sorry. It’s not too late to read something else, you know. Treasure Island’s still on the docket.” You murmured, fingers tapping absentmindedly along the book’s spine. 
“There’s no need to apologize. Already it’s a fascinating tale.” He paused for a moment, mulling over his words. The question he was about to ask seemed painfully obvious. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave it unsaid. “Are all humans this afraid of… aliens?”
‘Will all humans be this afraid of us?’ He did not ask.
“I think…” You hummed, head thunking back against his landing gear plating. “I think that most humans are afraid of the unknown. The idea that there’s something out there we can’t understand. We don’t like being reminded that we aren’t actually in control. That at any point in time we could die.”
Jetfire thought back to Cybertron- the expeditions failed, the cities razed, the lives lost- and he understood the sentiment exactly. 
“Would it comfort you to know that the experience isn’t uniquely human?” 
You barked out a short laugh. “A little, actually.”
Jetfire had spent so much of his life in the cold. The cold of space. The cold of the ice. The cold of the silent, empty hangar. But here, in this moment, with your body pressed to his plating, your voice filling the blackness, he felt inexplicably warm. 
“I’d still like to hear more, if you would continue.”
Though Jetfire could not see your smile, it was more than enough to hear it in your voice.
“Sure thing, big guy.”
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arget-star · 2 months ago
Text
For Thy Sweet Love
Umemiya Hajime x F!Reader
tags: fluff, reader and ume are married with two kids, not beta read. if you see any spelling mistakes, no you don't
wc: 2k
about: There's someone new at the park today. Umemiya, happily married with two kids, isn't a fan of how this man gravitates towards you
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“My nephew loves this park,” says a voice to your right. You glance over, unsure if the young man is talking to you or into a phone you can’t see. He catches your eye and grins—no phone, then. “Last week, he said the swings were his favorite, and now he claims the slides are the most fun he’s ever had.”
He sticks out a hand in greeting. “Nishida Hideo. A pleasure to meet you.”
There’s no harm in making a new acquaintance at the park. It’s nice, knowing the other frequent visitors, making your trips here less lonely on the days Hajime’s stuck at work. Puts you at ease, surrounded by people you can chat with. You accept his handshake, offering your name in return, silently appreciative his touch doesn’t linger once you gently pull your hand away. “How old is your nephew?”
“Six. He’s the little terror currently reigning as king atop the slides,” Hideo replies, tilting his head in the direction of said slides. You follow the gesture, eyes landing on a little boy whose black hair has the same cowlick as his uncle’s. His tiny fists are planted atop his hips, mouth moving as he explains the rules of whatever game he and your son—also six—have created. At least, you hope it’s just silly rules, instead of something rude or the age old you can’t play with me.
You squint a little, right hand raising to shield your face, and see the smile on your Yuzuru’s face. That same wide, open grin he inherited from his dad. Your lips quirk up as you turn back to Nishida. “He seems to rule his subjects well.”
“Is that your son up there?”
“Mhm. Also six. He loves making new friends.” Yet another thing he inherited from Hajime. Nishida’s nephew shouts something, raising his tiny arms up and stepping aside. Yuzuru, with a loud laugh also courtesy of his father—honestly, you’d hardly know Yuzuru was also yours if he hadn’t inherited your hair color—positions himself belly-down on the slide. Pushing himself with his arms, he goes flying, landing in the woodchips covering the park ground, giggling like a maniac all the while. You sigh fondly; you’ll be cleaning woodchips off him until bath time tonight.
Nishida’s nephew follows suit as soon as Yuzuru stands up. They brush themselves off, then climb back up the staircase next to the slides, presumably to do it all over again. A handful of woodchips cling to the back of your boy’s shirt, and his fellow conspirator has one stuck to his cheek.
“To be a child again,” Nishida says wistfully. “They make me tired just watchin’ them.”
A small snort escapes you. “Try parenting. It’s just as exhausting as you think it is, and yet, there’s nothing in the world I love more. Do you watch your nephew often?”
Nishida gives you a sidelong glance, like he doesn’t quite believe how people could willingly love something so tiresome. “Every couple weeks or so. My sister and her husband own a shop on market street. I try to help out by takin’ him off their hands.”
Yuzuru flies down the slides again. This time, when he pops back up, he gives you a wave. You eagerly wave back; some days, you can hardly believe the tiny baby you once cradled in your arms every night has grown into such a big kid.
“That’s kind of you. Which shop—” You begin to ask, cutting off as movement catches in the corner of your eye. A newcomer has arrived at the playground in the form of your three and a half year old daughter. Shiori’s tiny pigtails bounce as she toddles along, calling for her big brother. You smile again—she’s fearless, so long as Yuzuru’s around. The boy in question momentarily abandons his game, turning towards his sister. You tilt your head, looking for Hajime. He shouldn’t be too far behind your runaway girl.
Nishida, now busy shouting a hello to his nephew, misses the commotion. Just as well; despite the sunny day, a shiver unexpectedly runs down your spine as you finally spot your husband’s approaching figure.
Umemiya Hajime is not a jealous man.
Protective, certainly, and fiercely loyal to those he loves. Never once in all the years you’ve been together has he acted out of jealousy.
Yet now, you feel the same aura that so frightened any and all who opposed Bofurin and commanded the utmost respect from his fellow members. You think Nishida asks you something, but all your focus rests on Hajime, wondering what, exactly, has ruffled his feathers.
He grows closer, features becoming distinct, and it’s then you notice the edge to his smile, the hard glint in his eyes. The tails of his coat snap behind him, in time with his purposeful strides. He doesn’t look like a father who just spent the last twenty minutes calming down his tearful little girl from a scraped knee.
Umemiya Hajime looks every inch the former leader of Bofurin.
An arm wraps around your waist before you can think of anything to say. His right arm, you note, which he uses to tug you closer. You spare a glance first for your children—slides abandoned, they happily chase each other up and down the jungle gym steps—then to Nishida, whose face has gone carefully blank.
“Haji—” You begin, then stop. You don’t know what to say.
A rogue piece of hair has come loose from its usual slicked back style. Normally, you’d brush it aside, laughing as he uses your proximity as an excuse to kiss you senseless. He’s not feeling play now.
In mirror to your own greeting earlier, Hajime sticks out his left hand to Nishida. Sunlight glints off the golden wedding band adorning your husband’s ring finger, and you know he was planning this the moment he began stalking over here.
“Great day to be at the park, isn’t it? Umemiya Hajime. My wife’s such a great conversation partner, isn’t she?”
Nishida stares at Hajime for a heartbeat, then slowly accepts the offered hand. From your place tucked against his side, you can feel the tense line of his muscles, a snake coiled to strike if provoked. You don’t have anything against Nishida, and his nephew plays quite nicely with both Yuzuru and Shiori. You want to be annoyed, even a little angry, but you know Hajime. He wouldn’t act like this unless he had good reason.
“Y-yeah, she is,” Nishida replies, quickly retracting his hand. Nervousness has replaced his earlier ease, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart over to the children, who have commandeered the swing sets. Yuzuru must have helped Shiori onto one; now he’s twisting her round and round while she kicks her legs in delight. One of her pigtails has started to come loose. Nishida’s nephew propels himself on the other swing.
A throat clears. Nishida’s, you realize, as he casually slips his phone out of his pocket. “I should be getting back. Thanks for chatting with me,” he says to you, phone still in hand. Another look at Hajime. “…I’ll see you around.”
“Have a great day!” Hajime calls as Nishida scurries away. His nephew pouts. Your children halt their own game, offering loud farewells of their own. There’s a moment where you think someone will start throwing a tantrum—Nishida’s nephew, mainly—but the man quickly scoops his young charge into his arms and carries him off.
Hajime releases you with a sigh once Nishida’s retreating figure disappears, all that coiled tension dissipating in a puff of air. He smiles at you like nothing happened. “What were you thinking about for lunch?”
You stare at him in disbelief. Is he not going to say anything? It takes a moment for your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth, and when it does, you can’t stop the hiss that escapes. “Hajime, you didn’t have to scare him off like that!”
He tilts his head, gesture almost boyish. You know better. “He said he had to leave.”
“Because of you!”
“Baby—”
“Mama! Mama! Pus’ me, p’ease?” Shiori shouts. You sigh, glaring at Hajime to let him know this conversation isn’t over. Plastering a smile on your face, you happily trot over to the swing sets. Yuzuru has claimed the one left empty by Nishida’s nephew, leaving his baby sister to wiggle pitifully in her seat. A bright, floral patterned bandage sticks to her right knee.
“How’s my brave little girl?” You coo, planting a kiss atop her head. She giggles, sticking her leg up while you set about fixing her loose pigtail.
“Dada fixeded me!”
“He’s quite talented at patching up owies, isn’t he?” Against your better judgement, your hands still, chin tilting up to find Hajime standing alone where you left him, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He’s watching you and the kids with undiluted joy.
You’re still upset with him, but the look on his face tempers some of your annoyance.
“Mhm!”
“I’m glad, my love.” Pigtail fixed, you gently take her tiny hands in yours, placing them around the metal chains holding up the swing. “Ready? One, two, three!” On three, you give her a light push, sending her soaring into the air.
Twenty minutes later, everyone’s safely buckled in their car seats, hands thoroughly cleaned courtesy of your stash of baby wipes in the glove box. Hajime passes around a water bottle from the driver’s seat, while you stand at the back passenger door, shaking woodchips out of Shiroi’s shoes.
“Mama, can we listen to Bluey?” Yuzuru asks, idly running a toy motorcycle up and down the car window.
“In a minute, baby,” you reply. Shoes free of debris, you shimmy them back onto Shiori’s little feet. She’s clutching the metal water bottle in both her hands.
“T’anks, mama.”
“You’re welcome,” and it’s accompanied with a loud smooch to her forehead. You take the water from her, stealing a quick sip. She giggles, waving as you close the passenger door. You clamber into your own seat with a relieved sigh. Park days are fun yet exhausting.
Yuzuru, never one to forget anything, pouts. “Mama, can we listen to Bluey now?”
The car engine roars to life. You fiddle with your phone, queuing up the latest Bluey album while telling Shiori yes, you did see how fast she went down the slide, and you know she’s hungry, reassuring her that lunch will be made as soon as you get through the door at home. She kicks her legs out again, pretending she’s still on the swings. Your hand snakes between the car door and the seat, questing fingers latching playfully around one small ankle. “Got you!”
She squeals, delighted, kicking harder now. “Shake her off,” Yuzuru encourages, and now you laugh, releasing your hold.
“You’re too strong for me, my love,” you say, shaking out your hand.
“’Cause I eats my gebtables,” she replies seriously.
Haji laughs, grinning at you as he backs the van out of the parking spot. It soothes the remainder of your irritation—that smile of his always makes you melt. “That’s right, baby,” he agrees.
Shiori asks for more water. You oblige, passing the bottle back. Yuzuru starts humming along to Bluey. Hajime rolls slowly to a stop at the intersection. It’s all so normal, so perfect. Almost enough for you to forget about Haji’s odd behavior.
Yuzuru may have inherited most of his father’s looks, but he got his knack for persistency from you. Gently, you prod Hajime’s arm. “What was all of that about, earlier?”
He sighs. Flicks his eyes up to the rearview mirror, looking at your children in the reflection. They aren’t visibly paying attention, although your son listens to far more than he lets on. Scary, how often he asks about things you were positive he wasn’t within hearing distance for.
Hajime’s hand flexes around the steering wheel, like he’s fighting off the urge to rub the back of his neck. You squeeze his shoulder this time. He’s the most responsible driver you know—and it makes your heart ache whenever you think of why.
“I was a little jealous,” he admits, softly.
“A little?”
“…a lot,” he concedes, flicking on the turn signal. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you. Something about his manner set me off.”
You frown in thought, playing back your interaction with Nishida in your head. Nothing struck a warning bell inside your own head. Other than the strange look he gave you when you said how much you loved being a parent. Overall, you’d considered Nishida nice enough. Not someone you’d want to become best friends with, but a decent enough park companion.
“I thought he was gentlemanly enough,” you say carefully, trying to see the interaction through your husband’s eyes. Maybe Nishida ended up a bit too far into your personal space, towards the end of your conversation. Half of your attention had been on Yuzuru by that point; the other half was worried about Shiori’s wounded knee.
“It’s how he kept watching you when you weren’t looking. Like he was sizing you up.”
You didn’t feel anything untoward coming from Nishida. Then again, Haji’s always had a gift for reading people and their intentions. You lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m yours, always and forever.”
Those impossibly blue eyes of his land on yours. “I love you.”
Yuzuru, no longer occupied with Bluey or his motorcycle, blows a raspberry. “Gross!”
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your-average-yandere-lover · 3 months ago
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𝓡𝓮𝓭𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷 𝓗𝓪𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷’𝓼
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Tw: Cursing, Spooky themes, Teo slander, mentions of pumpkin slaughter and suggestive content under the cut.
Notes: Happy Halloween! I wanted to do more but I've been so busy with midterms, work and personal stuff that I never got around to it! Here is my half assed Redacted headcanon because—I can. Side note if someone can clarify, is redacted they/them exclusive or bother he/him, they/them, my ass is confused. Obsessed either way though, none the less lol…mk—Happy Halloween!!! ψ(`∇´)ψ
❥ Redacted likes Halloween. Obviously, they would only want to celebrate Halloween if it makes angel happy. However, considering Redacted is a huge horror fan, they would probably pick Halloween over the other holidays.
❥ Redacted enjoys when you feel safe and happy so, when you said you wanted to go to a haunted house, it wasn’t exactly exciting news.
❥ The idea of you being in fear was something they dreaded but…on the other hand…you clinging onto them for dear life was just a tiny…tiny bit tempting—but the cost of scaring you didn’t compete with the temptation of being depended on. Ultimately they agreed to take you, but they had to gather every ounce of strength in them to ensure they didn’t clobber every actor jumping out in front of you.
❥ Unknowingly angel did the staff an act of kindness when convincing Redacted not to take their ‘new’ sledgehammer to ‘cosplay’ as a serial killer whilst out and about.
❥ Redacted has a special cell in hell for the few propionate actors that popped out and made angel scream bloody murder—And don’t think for one minute he doesn’t have a grudge against every single person who works at the haunted house—even though it was your idea to go in the first place. Simply put, he’s not nearly as forgiving as angel.
❥ At some point in the spooky season, Redacted would absolutely take you to your favorite candy shop, if you like sweets, because—who doesn’t love treating their inner child to some candies! They’d make sure that the store would have all the candies you’d both would share as kids. Redacted would also make sure sure to buy a bunch to take home and devour while you turn off the lights and pretend you aren’t home when the trick-or-treaters come by. Yk because that’s what all adults do on Halloween—be fr with me rn. Unless your Teo ig…I have no doubt homeboy is terrorizing children and flirting with women wearing suggestive outfits, on their way to parties.
❥ Around the spooky season, Redacted loves to watch you watching classics like Slasher films or Halloween but, he’ll only put them on if you want to watch them. He enjoys setting out nostalgic snacks from your childhoods and cuddling up in a blanket with you.
❥ Redacted may pull off the goth aesthetic, however Redacted would create a movie night straight outta a Pinterest board if they knew it would make angel happy. They’d honestly do anything to make you smile and enjoy your time together.
❥ When you suggested pumpkin carving, you never expected them to create such detailed monstrosities. Their pumpkin looked professional, they would absolutely win any contest, hands down; ya boy put Dr.Frankenstein to shame. And watching them carve the guts out was another thing, bro would literally butcher the pumpkin like they were creating an audition tape for a slasher film; they were completely unphased by the nasty smell and the pumpkin pulp everywhere.
❥ Being an artist they’d made their pumpkins look really cool—like one was a hockey mask and the other was a cute doodle like portrait of you as an Angel which he loved your sweet reaction to. The only down side was you didn’t really have anywhere to put them but luckily the you and the fellow library staff were told you could bring some by to add a bit of fun to the building around the spooky season.
❥ If you like pumpkin seeds, he’d make them with you after you set out your pumpkins. The more fun activities to do with you the better—even if they watched twenty different videos on baking the seeds the night before and is stressed about making sure everything is perfect.
❥ If you bake your friends anything, Redacted will get hella Jealous. They want to say something but they don’t wanna ruin your fun ideas—well they really just want you to save your fun ideas for them. Besides you look so cute in the apron they bought you. They end up switching your sugar with the salt, and making the desserts into a literal salt licks in hopes you give up and go to them for comfort. And that maybe if you serve your dessert to other people they will fall off the face of the earth.
❥On that note…He would 100% scare the living shit out of Leon, Teo, Jay, Violet, anyone honestly if you weren't around or you thought it was funny.
~~~~~18+ under the line~~~~~~~
❥ You’re gonna dress up?…Hell yeah. Redacted loves this idea. They’d shamelessly sends you all sorts of costumes you can’t wear out. They won’t waste the opportunity to make this holiday into an excuse to seduce angel.
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agalychnisspranneusroseus · 2 months ago
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Think I overdid it with the Marcy harm today so let me tell you a little bit about Marcy fluff before I go to sleep.
So as we all know, at the end of the show the three girls discovered how to open portals on their own w/o the box, right?? Because they have the powers of the gems, you remember how - how that's the end of the show, right? And remember how Marcy was adopted by Olivia at the end and moved to Amphibia while still attending to school on Earth with her girls? Okay so since the show ended like that, I just know she and Olivia have the softest most supportive and endearing mother-daughter relationship even though none of them call it that, mostly because neither of them had a great relationship with their mothers, so it's not like they would know anyway. But Marcy just triggers Olivia's protective instincts so easily! Olivia likes ti make her tea and put bandaids on her knees when she scrapes them and defend her when people start accusing her of every current problem in Amphibia because she brought the box back and she gave it to Andrias and she terrorized everyone alongside him - and oh, Olivia would have none of it. Not when she was there to see what happened. Not when she knows those screams will haunt her forever. Not when they still wake her up at night, whenever Marcy scrambles out of her bed trembling from head to toe. Olivia wraps her up in a warm blanket and makes her some hot chocolate whenever that happens, maybe watches a movie with her on her phone until Marcy feels better. She doesn't understand Marcy's love for movies and games, and when Marcy starts explaining, she feels like she understands even less, but she likes listening. For so long after the invasion, her happiness would be so rare... the curious, adventurous, energetic child she once knew was now quiet and timid, always with dark bags under her eyes and a neutral expression on her face. All Olivia had wanted was to make her smile - maybe that's why she turned a blind eye when she heard her on the phone with her friends late on a school night, tiny portal open just enough to let the signal in. So, she found her strange little rambles endearing, because she looked so happy talking about her games and movies. Yes, Marcy seemed to awaken a need to protect that Olivia never even thought she had in her. She had this effect on a lot of people, if her friends were anything to go by. It made her wonder how come Andrias never saw her that way. It confused her, how anyone could know Marcy and want to hurt her.
Then again, she'd heard horror tales about her parents, so maybe she shouldn't be so surprised. Marcy had ended up at the mercy of people who hurt her far too many times.
But now she has Olivia, and Yunan is there, too - Olivia's girlfriend doesn't live with them, but she visits often, and yeah, Yunan doesn't like kids much, but she gets along with Marcy fine. It seems like she forgets she's a kid half of the time: she'll ask her if she wants some whenever she drinks, and she'll tell her about her personal problems as if she were talking to a fellow adult. Olivia has scolded her more than once, but Marcy doesn't mind. It feels nice to be respected. Yunan and her go on a lot of adventures together, and always make sure to bring Olivia a little trinket or two.
Marcy's favorite part, though, is when she catches them exchanging sweet glances and gentle words, like, sometimes she's be coming right around the corner and she'll find them talking in hushed voices, giving each othe the biggest heart eyes, and she'll leave to give them their privacy with the biggest grin on her face. Oh she just has to tell Sasha about this.
As for her girls, she sees them every day at school. Sasha even stopped skipping altogether so she won't miss a day with her. It's always nice being with her friends - they have sleepovers every month, always in Anne's house, and Anne is the one to cook for her friends whenever that happens, because she knows Marcy loves her cooking the most. They still dare each other to do increasingly stupid things, and somehow, she gets Sasha to write down her name in the Book of Losers for the first time. She's not too upset, though, because somewhere in her sleep, she ends up turning around and wrapping her arms around Marcy from behind, pulling her flush against her chest, and oh, Sasha is very warm. To think she'd once been so rough and domineering! She always knew she was a big softie deep down, but maybe what surprises her the most is how openly Sasha expresses it nowadays. It's not like the three of them had never told each other "I love you", but it's crazy how Sasha will say it every time they hug each other goodbye before Marcy goes back home. Anne is a bit more shy in that regard, but she expresses it in so many other ways - hugs, holding hands, piggyback rides... she even tries to get into her games! Though she ends up enjoying the likes of Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing more than the massive high-fantasy open world RPGs Marcy loves so much. Still, she makes a habit of always making sure Marcy's portable charger is full so her switch will never run out of battery while Marcy is in Amphibia - Frog knows that would kill her.
Wanting to look out for Marcy is remarkably easy. They don't understand why some peole find it so hard either.
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tinyclownhours · 11 months ago
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Human Hermit Crabs
I turned the silly little prompt I sent to @so-very-small into a full fic. Enjoy :)
Summary: Human gets abducted by giant aliens and sold as a novelty pet in an intergalactic souvenir shop, only to be rescued by a rugged space explorer.
Word Count: 5781
Cw: Abduction, dehumanisation (it's nothing too bad, but the MC is seen as a pet/object by the other aliens), mentions of death and humans being sold as pets/objects.
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An apex predator. That is what Henry had lived his entire life believing he was. Everyone knew humans were on top of the food chain. Even in situations where they were wildly outmatched in pure strength, it was their intelligence that kept them on top. The only one who could realistically hurt him was his own kind, he had thought. As long as he kept his head down, he could get by without trouble. Oh, how foolish he had been…
He was curled up at the far end of the glass cage, leaning against the cold wall as he breathed in a shallow manner. He was cold, and he was shivering ever so slightly. Every now and again a giant figure would glide past the outside of his cage, browsing all of the curiosities the shop had to offer, him included…
He thought back to that day, the 15th of October. The day when his perception of reality had been utterly shattered. It was a crisp autumn evening and Henry had been strolling around on a walk out by the countryside where he lived. There was rarely anyone out where he walked. Maybe that’s why they chose him…
He still remembered the feeling of being sucked up into the air, the feeling of his stomach dropping while he looked down at the ground becoming smaller and smaller below him until he was swallowed up by the sky. Or at least he thought. The pure terror and panic were still fresh in his mind, as he looked around the gigantic spaceship that he’d been beamed up into. He had seen the giant alien smirk down at him, roughly grabbing his body in his callus fist while he inspected him. Henry felt his stomach turn as he thought back to how the giant poacher had looked over him after putting a metal collar around his throat, calling him a “beautiful specimen” before carrying him off and throwing him into a crowded cage full of other humans, all of them equally confused and terrified. 
He remembered how horrific it had been initially, being sold as some sort of tiny novelty pet in this intergalactic souvenir shop. He was trembling almost if not every waking hour of the day, and would freeze up anytime someone walked past his cage. Rush hour was hell for him… Nowadays he was too exhausted to even lift a finger. Most customers took note of his sickly appearance, being so pale and thin he looked like he was one second away from crumbling into dust. Which he supposed was good, since most of them lost interest in him after a few seconds of inspection. It seemed like all of them knew. All of them knew he didn’t have long. And why buy a pet that you knew wasn't going to make it? He never bought those scrawny and off-colored goldfish at the pet store when he was a child. No one did, why would they? If it wasn’t for the fact that he was dying, he might’ve seen the cosmic irony of him ignoring those goldfish as a child only to feel some sort of comradery towards them now.
He was the last human left in the cage, all of his other fellow captives had either been sold off or passed away due to the horrid living conditions they’d all been exposed to for the last month. Unfortunately for Henry, he had been a stubborn one, as the owner of the shop commented quite frequently. It was clear he was just waiting for Henry to disappear so that he could order a fresh batch of captives to abuse with horrible housing.
The cage was small and made entirely of glass which stripped away any privacy any of them could’ve gotten. There wasn’t any padding or places to sleep comfortably. Besides, even if they did have someplace to sleep, the clunky metal collars made it a little hard to get comfortable. They had been provided with some sort of strange wood shavings on the cage floor, which quite possibly couldn’t have been any more itchy and uncomfortable. Any food they were provided with seemed deprived of any hint of nutrients and only provided Henry with temporary relief by filling his stomach with something to quell the searing pain of hunger. Lastly, they were put through so much distress, with the top of their cage being completely open for all of the shop's open hours, meaning that anyone could pick them up and manhandle them as they pleased in order to figure out if they liked the tiny human or not.
In the beginning, Henry had suffered quite a lot of stress at the (literal) hands of the shop's customers. A lot of them had been kids, or so he assumed, considering they were smaller and much less delicate with how they handled the poor humans. Henry had witnessed one too many of his fellow merchandise be dropped from tens of feet up in the air by those clumsy monsters. Some were quote-on-quote fine, getting lucky and only breaking a few bones. Others died upon impact. Although, Henry was starting to wonder which ones were actually the lucky ones…
Other times there were the odd tourists who walked in and were fascinated by the cage of humans. Most of them were quite handsy, pulling and playing with each one of their limbs as if they were just dolls. Of course, tourists are just what Henry called them. They were all bulky giants with what seemed to be purple scales and multiple eyes spread across their entire body. They were all just loud and quite frankly, too curious for his liking. It reminded him of the horror stories he’d read online by people recalling their experiences with obnoxious tourists… But he supposes that it was through them that he learned what the metal collars were for. There was a sign taped onto the side of the cage that read “Translator included!”, which many of them would read aloud and then condescendingly speak with them and try to get them to repeat words to them. Henry wasn’t quite sure why they were given translators. He wasn’t complaining of course, this whole ordeal would have been a thousand times worse if he hadn’t gotten a helpful (if a bit rude) explanation from the store owner as to what was going on when he first came into the store. However, he didn’t understand the appeal of a pet that could speak. Wouldn’t it feel weird to have a pet that could share its honest opinions with its owner? Surely they couldn’t think they enjoyed being here and would act like small puppy dogs once they brought them home? Henry wasn’t sure considering the way so many of them spoke to their purchased goods while leaving the store, all while ignoring their screaming and crying with soft coos and laughter. Maybe they were all sadists and didn’t care. It sure seemed like they didn’t.
His least favorite was the obnoxious teenagers that would come in, pick up and touch every single one of them, taking photos, tapping the glass, and being generally insufferable. A week or so ago a group of them came in and tried to get Henry’s attention. When he didn’t react to whatever they were doing, one of them grabbed the edges of the cage and started shaking it. 
But luckily, he didn’t have to deal with that now that he barely had any energy to move. Now that he was weak and unresponsive, he wasn’t entertaining anymore. Safe to say, Henry knew that they knew that he didn’t have much time left. On particularly desperate days he considered begging one of them to take him with them. He could try to perform his role as a souvenir if it meant getting out of there and maybe getting a shot at living life. But how good of a life was he really going to live if this was the standard?
Henry was pulled out of his thoughts as the shop owner walked by. He looked down at him with a scowl, eyebrows knit together as he picked up the full food bowl inside of the cage. He sighed in annoyance and walked away with it, presumably going to throw away the old pellets and replace them with new ones. Not that it mattered in Henry’s eyes. They were always dry and disgusting, and he wasn’t eating any longer.
He looked around the store, since his cage was placed at the very back he had a comfortable view of the entire thing. Despite being only one room, it was huge from his perspective, larger than a big football arena. Today seemed slower than usual. There were barely any customers. Three to be exact. A couple looking at some novelty junk, and a man at the end of the store. Was it a man? Henry wasn’t quite sure about alien biology, especially considering none of them looked to be the same species. Come to think of it, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen that type of alien before. He kept a small list in his head to pass the time, and there were a couple of regularly reoccurring species that came through, some of the less common ones, and then there were wildcards like the man in the back.
His skin was dark, and he had large pointed ears. His eyes were sharp and yellow, and unlike the store owner and most of the regular aliens, his eyes sat at the front of his face, rather than the sides, just like Henry himself. It’s funny. He almost looked a little human if it weren’t for some of his more alien-esque features. From where Henry was sitting, he actually didn’t look half bad for a horrifying gigantic alien. His eyes seemed so cold and hyper-focused… And that’s when Henry realized, much to his horror, that the giant had been eyeing him, staring at him intensely. And Henry had been staring back.
He quickly averted his gaze, feeling his heart skip a beat as a small dose of adrenaline rushed through his veins for the first time in what felt like forever. That was… Weird. Why did he react like that? He didn’t think he had the energy to fear these creatures any longer. But something about him was making Henry nervous. Really nervous. Maybe it was the aliens' new and darker appearance. Maybe it was the way he seemed taller than most of the other aliens he had encountered. Maybe it was that cold stare… Or maybe it was the fact that forward-facing eyes only belonged to predators. Henry didn’t know. But something about him didn’t feel right. He turned to glance back at him only to bite his tongue and let out a muffled yelp as the alien now towered over his cage. Somehow, in the span of a couple of seconds, he had walked from the back of the store all the way to the cage in the front. 
His eyes seemed to drill into Henry as he looked and inspected him. Henry had an even better look at his face from this angle. He could see that the alien looked more reptile-like than most, having two small slotted holes where his nose should be and his pupils were narrow slits rather than round balls like humans had. Henry looked up at him with his tired eyes. Usually, he would look away and be unresponsive to disinterest whatever customer had their eyes on him, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the alien. 
He must’ve looked so pathetic. Small, and exhausted. Having to lean up against a corner to keep himself up. He hadn’t looked in the mirror in quite a while but he could only imagine how messy his hair must’ve been, how heavy the eyebags under his eyes must’ve gotten, and he didn’t even want to think about how pale and delicate he must’ve looked with how little he had been eating. For whatever reason, Henry felt ashamed. Like he was falling short under the judging eyes staring down at him.
Suddenly, Henry caught the slightest twitch of one of the aliens' long ears. He could see his eyes widen slightly for just a second, before he quickly walked off to a nearby shelf, looking at the different merchandise. It was only then that Henry picked up on the footsteps approaching his cage. He could see the store owner walking out with a new bowl of kibble and a basket of cleaning supplies. It was time for him to clean the cage. Henry prepared himself mentally as the store owner reached into the cage and pulled him out. The feeling of his leathery hands enveloping his tiny body made his skin crawl. Luckily it didn’t last long since the store owner quickly set him down into a separate open plastic box on the register counter. He then turned around to the cage and began the process of cleaning it. 
Just then, Henry saw the couple leave the shop and the reptilian man turned back around and faced him. He looked back to the shop owner, who had just emptied all the wood shavings and was scrubbing the cage clean, before looking back at Henry. After a few seconds, he swiftly approached the plastic container. It was truly impressive to see just how swift and soundless he was when he walked. Henry looked up at him with uncertainty and a small frown, and he swore he could see the man’s eyes soften just a little bit. He was lying on his side, too weak and shaky to try and crawl away from the descending hand that soon covered his entire vision. His breath hitched slightly when he felt the surprisingly soft fingers gingerly wrap around his sides before pulling him up and out of the plastic container. 
He didn’t know if this alien was extremely confident in his ability to go unnoticed or if he was just stupid, stealing a human mere feet away from the store owner. He debated making any sort of noise, but at this point, he honestly couldn’t be bothered by what would happen to him. He could die at the hands of a mysterious stranger or in a glass pet cage… One of those felt at least more dignified and less pathetic, and it also came with the possibility of not dying, depending on this alien’s intentions.
He felt the warmth of the man’s hand envelop him, between that and the soft padded insides of the jacket pocket he was placed into, this was the most comfort he’d been provided with for weeks. He could feel the giant shift around, probably walking to exit the store. He was afforded a small window to the outside world through the pocket opening, and could see some of the other shitty products that lined the store walls as they walked out. However, his sight was robbed of him as the alien's hand once again blocked his view. Henry tensed up as it got closer, only to feel it gently cover him. At first, he was confused until he heard that voice he had despised for weeks.
“Have a great day, we hope to see you again soon!” It was so loud and near. They were walking past the store owner. Henry tensed up as he realized this, and the giant could probably tell since he started to stroke his back with his thumb oh so gently. Henry couldn’t help but melt into the touch. By all means, he should be terrified. He had just been kidnapped… again. But is it really kidnapping if you get kidnapped away from a kidnapper??? Or would that be more of a rescue? Henry supposed it all had to do with the giant's intentions. He could be planning to torture and kill him for all he knew. But right now in this moment, he was handling him like he was the most delicate thing in the world, and that tenderness was something Henry needed desperately after three whole weeks of rough manhandling.
“Have a good day to you as well.” The giant spoke, Henry felt his breath hitch again as his heart skipped a beat. His voice was deep and velvety, he swore he could almost feel the base all the way down from his pocket. He felt the alien speed up a little once they were out of the store. He had stopped stroking Henry’s back and was now speed-walking somewhere. After a short while he sped up further, breaking into a jog. Henry let out a small yelp as the hand now enveloped him, still careful but holding him in place. It wasn’t before long that he could hear the sound of a mechanical whirring followed by air pressure and steam release, most likely a spaceship door opening. Henry’s suspicions were confirmed when he felt them walk upwards, probably on a ramp. He could see some hints of LED lights peeking through the gaps in the pocket opening and soon enough he was pulled out. 
Henry was set down in what appears to be the ship cup holder. The alien was using both hands to tap on buttons and pull levers that Henry could not begin to understand. Soon enough, the ship engine roared, and with the slow and precise pull on what appeared to be the startup leaver, the ship started taking off. Henry let out a small noise of displeasure when the alien suddenly covered the cup holder with his palm. However, Henry was thankful for it when only a mere second later, after pressing a button, the ship blasted off as if instantly and Henry’s body jerked backward. He probably would have fallen out of the cup had he not been covered. 
The ship soon smoothed out into an unnoticeable yet fast speed. The alien slowly uncovered said cup holder and placed his hand on the wheel. Henry looked up at the giant and fiddled with his fingers. They were alone now… What should he do? Should he say hi? Why was this so awkward all of a sudden?!
The air was tense as none of them seemed willing to make the first move… The reality of what had just happened was starting to settle into Henry. Had he just left the safety of the store for some stranger? Dread started to seep into his stomach as he wondered what this giant was possibly planning to do with him. 
Said Giant soon pressed another button on the spaceship panel before turning to look at Henry. He could probably see just how scared Henry was, considering his eyes once again softened just a little too much.
“Hey…” He spoke, and it shook Henry to his core. Just then, sitting curled up in the cup holder, having this gigantic alien looming over him after having taken him so effortlessly, Henry felt truly small. Almost insignificant. As if nothing he could say, do, or think was worth anything. He remembered when he thought he was on top of it all, that there wasn’t any predator that could harm him as long as he remained smart, only to find out that he was deemed as so uínsignificant that he was sold as a fucking novelty product… The alien above him could crush and dispose of him within a second, like how he would trap and dispose of mice and vermin that invaded his home back on Earth. He wondered if this was how they felt moments before he handed them over to the local pest control. His heart wept for them, for now, he knew just how it felt to be small.
He was pulled out of his thoughts as the giant slowly reached out and started stroking his arm with the back of his finger. Henry looked into his eyes only to see none of the previous sharpness, but rather nothing than affection and softness. “You’re okay… It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m not gonna hurt you, alright?” 
Looking down at the tiny human sitting in his cup holder, it was evident that he was terrified. The poor thing was shaking, and his eyes were wide as pinpricks. He hadn’t done this in quite some time, not since he was a teenager. And even though it was a little messed up, seeing the shivering tiny almost brought Kazurix some sort of nostalgia. Most if not all of them reacted this way initially. And in the less extreme cases, Kazurix thought their little shaking forms were quite cute. 
He continued to stroke to the little guys arm as gently as he could. The human was curled up, but it was quite clear he didn't have the strength to curl up completely. Just how malnourished was he? It was evident from his sickly appearance that he, like most humans, hadn’t been taken care of very well. His skin was pale, eyes tired, and his blonde hair was tangled and matted. As soon as he’d calmed the human down, he’d get something to eat. They’d have to start slow, with some liquid food to not overwhelm his stomach, but after that, they’d gradually be able to make their way into actual food. It’s a good thing Kazurix always kept liquid food on him. As much as he told himself he’d stop doing this, he always kept some emergency rescue supplies.
He looked down at the trembling human. He didn’t seem to be rejecting the physical touch. That was a good sign. But he wasn’t responding either. The alien took a deep breath and tried something a little more direct.
”What’s your name?” He asked, prompting the little human to speak. He had to show that he wasn’t a threat to him. He could see his eyebrows knit together as he processed the question. He seemed hesitant for a few seconds, but Kazurix remained patient.
“…H-Henry…” The tiny squeaked out. Kazurix's heart almost melted. He had forgotten just how attached he got to these guys. He smiled softly, being careful not to show his teeth.
“It’s nice to meet you, Henry.” He spoke, continuing to stroke Henry’s arm. “My name is Kazurix. But you can call me Kazu if the full name is too hard to pronounce.” The way he said his full name wasn’t even really how you said it, he had to simplify the phonemes a lot since most humans couldn’t pronounce it. Henry nodded at him. Every movement he made seemed to take so much effort on his part. 
“Do you want something to eat? I have some nutrient paste that should give you some energy back without being too much for your stomach to handle.” He reassured him, standing up from his seat. His ear twitched as he picked up on the small gasp that had escaped the human once he stood up. He crouched down in front of the cup holder to be a little more on the human’s level, while still keeping a little bit of a distance from him to give him some space.
“I… I-I…” The human, Henry, started before resorting to a simple nod. Kazurix nodded back at him.
“Alright. I’m going to pick you up now. I’ll be careful.” He warned before snaking his hands underneath and behind the human. He gingerly scooped the tiny one up into his palms. He was lying there, looking up at Kazurix with those big eyes. At least they weren’t as wide as before. Now they were back to those tired, sad doe eyes that had single-handedly convinced Kazurix to take the human with him. He walked over to the small kitchen space on the ship and put Henry on the counter. He propped him up against the wall, ensuring he wouldn’t fall to either side. Then he opened the cooling box and searched around for the nutrient paste. He wasn’t sure where it was since he hadn’t had to use it in so long. It was a good thing they lasted so long…
Finally, he found the tube. He pulled it out. It was supposed to taste sweet. He hoped it did. Kazurix squeezed out a small dollop of the paste onto one of the small capsules left over from a bottle he’d thrown away, creating a small makeshift plate for the human so he didn’t have to be hand-fed. He watched as Henry cautiously inspected the food before looking up at him.
“I don’t have anything you could use as a spoon.” The human's eyes widened only a little before he shook his head.
“O-Oh! N-No, it’s okay! I- Uhm-“ He took a shaky breath before reaching his shaky hand up. “I wasn’t expecting any utensils… I wasn’t even expecting any food at all.” Once he was handed the capsule he looked away. “Thank you…” Kazurix smiled.
“You’re welcome.” He was once again reminded of why he did this so much. Most of them took a while to warm up to him, but once they did they were so sweet. He had nursed his fair share of humans back to health. Some of them were incredibly grateful, and some of them were reluctantly so. There were of course the poor humans who were so traumatized that they sadly never let their guard down around him, even after he proved himself as a non-threat. But he nonetheless cared for each and every one of them… Although, he was surprised as to how willing Henry had seemed to be. Usually, they were a lot more hesitant and afraid in the beginning, and while he was both of those things, Henry still thanked Kazurix politely and didn’t put up a fight as he was picked up… He knew there was something about him the second he walked into that store.
He hadn’t expected to rescue a human today, but fate was a funny thing. He had flown his sister and her girlfriend to the intergalactic travel center since the two of them were going on a little trip together. He knew he would’ve run into one of those tourist shops eventually. It was inevitable at such a crossroads of different alien cultures and species, but his heart still dropped when he saw one. He figured they must’ve shut down the human souvenir section, right? The last time he rescued one of them was years ago, it had to have become outdated at this point, right? But alas, walking into the shop he was immediately greeted by a glass cage with a tiny human inside of it. His heart broke for the poor guy, leaned up into a corner of the cage and breathing shallowly. Two people were looking down at him and discussing him, so he took that time to slink past them and into the back of the store. It wasn’t too far away from the cage since the store was quite small and narrow. That was bad.
He preferred to do rescues in larger stores, especially ones where the human section was tucked away between shelves and not out in the open. As the two left to look at some cheap garbage in the store, Kazurix wondered if he even could rescue this tiny. The store owner walked out to grab the bowl of food from the cage. It was full, meaning the human hadn’t eaten. Not that it wasn’t obvious given how scrawny he was… 
Just as he was about to call it quits and leave, the human made eye contact with him. Kazurix’s species were known for their enhanced senses - There was a reason that despite having been found out multiple times while in the middle of a rescue, Kazurix had never been caught. Some would even go as far as to say he was an apex predator of sorts, but Kazurix didn’t agree. He wouldn’t be so foolish as to assume there weren't bigger fish out there… However, his enhanced eyesight helped him see all the details of the tinies face even from so far away. He looked tired, exhausted even, and he was indeed looking at Kazurix. His eyes were sad and round, he wondered how much life had previously been filled within them, only to be stripped away by forces out of his control.
Just then, those eyes widened and the tiny looked away. That was it. Kazurix didn’t care if he got in trouble, or if this was as far away from the ideal rescue circumstances as possible, or if the tiny seemed to be one day away from death. He was going to save him… He was going to give him at least one last day of comfort.
Walking up to the cage, Kazurix could take in even more details of the pocket-sized man. He was dressed in a loose T-shirt and shorts. Probably unisized ones that the shop provided all the humans with. He was wearing a cheaper model of the universal translator collar. That was unusual for a shop this small, but convenient for Kazurix since he didn’t have to worry about how to non-verbally explain what was going on to the human once they were out of there. Then, the human looked back only to yelp at the sudden appearance of Kazurix. Sometimes he could forget how light on his feet he was despite his size. It had always come so naturally to him, but apparently, some aliens thought it was freaky. He had to stop himself from laughing when he heard the small sound that escaped the human. He kept examining him, about to reach in and take him when he heard the footsteps of the owner. He had to wait for another opening. 
He quickly walked to a nearby shelf, pretending to look at whatever junk they were selling. He could hear slight shuffling behind him, and once he heard the scooping of wooden chips he turned to the shop owner. He was cleaning out the cage… Looking around, he quickly found the human on the register counter. He crept over to him, being kept in a small plastic box. His heart broke when he saw just how powerless the little one was, lying on his side with a frown. Without hesitation, Kazurix reached into the box and picked the human up. That’s when he felt just how truly small he was. He had forgotten the tender feeling of holding someone smaller than your index finger, of just how utterly helpless they were to anything and anyone bigger than them, which was just about everyone. And that’s why he needed to do this.
The little guy didn’t even put up a fight. He was lying limply in his hand as he gently stuffed him into his open pocket. Walking by the store owner, Kazurix shielded the tiny using his hand. When the store owner spoke up and politely said goodbye to him, he could feel the poor human tense up in his pocket. He started stroking the little one tenderly, hoping to calm him down as he responded to the store owner, and quickly making his way out before he got busted. 
Everything was so unplanned and happened so fast, and looking back at it, it was a miracle that they weren’t caught. Kazurix was snapped back into reality when he heard Henry call out to him.
“Hello? Uhm… K…Karu?” He asked. Kazurix looked back down at him, eyes now focused. He could see how the human seemed to squirm under his gaze. “Could I get some more food?” He seemed almost afraid to ask. Kazurix smiled down at him, squeezing out another dollop on the small makeshift plate.
“Of course… And,” he chuckled slightly, “it’s Kazu.” He smiled, but the human’s face seemed to pale at his correction.
“O-Oh! I-I’m sorry- I didn’t mean-“ Henry scrambled to explain himself. Kazurix simply smirked in amusement. Something about this tinie's nervousness was so charming to him… 
“It’s no big deal.” He stated simply as he went back to stroking Henry’s tiny back with his finger. “Close enough. Don’t be nervous.” He smiled. The tiny paused, looking up at him hesitantly.
“…Why are you doing this?” He asked in a quiet voice, almost a whisper.
“Doing what?”
“Why did you take me? Wh-What are you going to do with me?” Kazurix could see the anxiety building up behind those eyes of his.
“…You looked so weak, and sad. I couldn’t just stand by without doing something.” He said. It was true if only a little simplified. Henry looked away, down at the pale brown paste dollop in front of him.
“…I want to go home.” His voice cracked, and Kazurix’s smile fell in an instant.
“…I know. Earth is… Quite far away from us.” He admitted, unsure if he could even get to earth from where they were right now. Not that he was going to tell Henry that. The human turned his face to the opposite side of Kazurix, but he managed to catch a glimpse of how glossy his eyes had gotten. Poor thing… He wouldn’t blame him if he broke down right now, considering all he went through.
“Hey?” Kazurix said softly. “Let me tell you something.” He moved a little closer. “I’ll get you to Earth… Okay? I promise.” The tiny human turned his head back, and Kazurix could see the small drops of tears that had built up in his eyes.
“You will?” Henry asked. Kazurix got a little closer once more.
“I will…” He reached his hand forward, extending his pinkie finger. “As soon as you feel better, I’ll take you to your home. I promise to protect you and escort you if you’ll have me as your travel companion?” He flashed the human a tender smile. Henry looked away, but this time, Kazurix could see the slight blush that spread to his ears. He couldn’t help but chuckle as the human grabbed his finger and shook it.
“Y-Yeah… That sounds nice.” He picked the paste back up and went back to eating, not before muttering a small and meek: “Thank you…”
And so it was decided. Kazurix was going to help Henry back to earth, a venture that would probably take them months… But he wasn’t about to drop that on Henry right now. He’s had a draining day as is. Although Kazurix was a little ashamed to admit it, he was almost a little happy that the journey would take a while. He’d be happy to get to know Henry more, and what’s a better way to get to know each other than a couple of months in space? He was sure they could make a couple of stops on the way so Kazurix could show off some fun places to Henry. He wouldn’t exactly be able to see them once he was dropped off on Earth anyway. He wouldn’t let anything happen to him while they were enjoying themselves.
“Of course. It’s my pleasure… Henry.” His name rolled nicely off his tongue. It’s been a hot minute since he’s last pronounced a human name. He would no doubt say it a lot more from now on.
Oh, he could tell this was going to be a fun experience.
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fatallyfalling · 1 year ago
Text
Sea-Green~ ♆
“waves crash , time slows , and all that’s left are those stupid sea-green eyes”
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{{ Finnick Odair x Reader }}
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warnings: hurt/comfort - fluff if you squint, it’s the Hunger Games so canon perceived violence/trauma, Finnick is soft, vague/brief insinuation to Finnick’s place in the Capital, talk of nightmares, brief panic, comforting touch, slight language, etc
{{ word count }} 2.7 k
{{ prompt }} you didn’t want to be a victor, you don’t think anybody in the districts does really. It’s the wee hours of morning - sun still asleep below the endless sea and you can’t help staring into the water, it brings a comfort you can’t quite describe. However your peace is interrupted by a certain “Darling of The Capital” looking for his own escape.
{{ a/n }} this is my first fic in like.. three years please be kind >< this is also my first time writing finnick so i’d love feedback! please enjoy <3
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The evening air by the sea is salty, intertwined with damp earth and a hint of pine as you take a deep breath in. You can feel the malleable sand beneath your fingernails keeping you grounded as you perch on the beach with your knees drawn close to your chest. There’s a chill that nips and a breeze that whips but you don’t mind it, if anything it helps keep your grip on reality to feel the sensations.
The sun is still sunken deep below the horizon and there’s only the oceanic chorus of the tide mixing with nature as District 4 remains in its slumber for a while longer.
You hadn’t bothered to check the time when you had shrugged on a sweater and crept out of Victor’s Village to escape the shadows of your nightmares, but it was definitely two or three o’clock in the morning. At least the sea was close so you didn’t have to go far to find solitude with the water. The soft murmurs of the crashing waves and the lull of the tide brought a peace you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else, not that you had much peace, to begin with these days. In fact, you used to fear the ocean, its watery depths murky, unknown, and brimming with secrets. However, you found yourself sneaking away to visit the rolling waves more often than you could keep track of now.
The sounds were comforting, the push and pull of the sea foam was a steady cadence to help focus your thoughts away from the night terrors. You managed to drag your arms away from the wet sand to wrap themselves around your shoulders, another shaky inhale and a squeeze of your closed eyelids as the tiny granulated pieces of earth clung to the knit sweater making it a bit scratchy.
The dampness had suddenly felt too much like blood.
You tried to focus in again on the sounds of the water, your earth-covered nails digging slightly into your skin as you kept attempting to steady your breathing. The terrors that came with the setting sun were your least favorite change thanks to the deadly arena you had been trapped in years ago. Unfortunately, as much as it felt like an eternity had passed, the terrors made it feel just as fresh and raw in your mind.
The 67th annual Hunger Games.
You had been sixteen, now twenty-two. The arena had confined and demolished your heart and senses like a meal, you still found yourself jumping at the kettle whistle and reaching for a phantom knife on your hip. You hadn’t even intended to last let alone win, as many tributes as you had managed to outlast in the first two days you were still forced to reckon with death and the sticky metallic scent of blood and copper following the sting of salt as you fought a fellow tribute to prevent drowning in a river.
You gripped yourself a bit tighter as you tried to shove away the memory and the sudden tightness constricting your throat.
A harsh shiver raked through you as the cold finally seeped into your bones and snapped your awareness to a shifting sound a few paces behind where you hid. Instinctively you whirled, sand kicking up in a small spray as your distorted view and trembling hands scrambled for anything to defend yourself. There wasn’t anything but sand, not even a shell within reach as you rapidly blinked to focus on the darkness in front of you.
Your gaze landed on the tall figure a few yards away, the waves crashing as time seemed to drag itself across the sand and you met a familiar set of sea-green eyes.
You let loose a breath you hadn’t quite noticed you’d been holding as the blossoming warmth of adrenaline on your skin fades to let the cold once more seep in. Collapsing your knees back onto the sand your hands dig into the wet beach along with a sharp inhale, the sense of danger slowly ebbing away as the figure continues to approach, a thin whistle swimming into your senses as he stops a pace or two away.
He allowed a brief apology as you adjusted back to your curled-up position on the sand, failing an attempt to brush the clustered sand off your pants with a sigh.
“It’s fine, Finnick..”
You weren’t exactly ecstatic about the so-called ‘Darling of The Capital’, his smirks and the drip of confidence off his tongue tended to rub you the wrong way, but considering the mere constant watch of Capital elites and a vague awareness of the many lipstick sealed letters and ��visitors’ coming and going from his home in Victor’s Village you tried to keep your patience on a tight leash. A pang of concern stung inside however as you noticed the too far away look washing over his tanned features as he slumped down beside you.
“Can’t sleep?”
A tense muscle fluttered in the Darling’s jaw as he rested his elbows on his knees.
“No..”
Your brows stitched together in a bit of confusion but you didn’t pry, the air around Finnick Odair was colder, more solemn than the usual radiating warmth and the lack of any suggestive comeback from the bronze-haired male sparked a wonder of what might be going on inside. If he was awake at this hour and out here the same as you, it could only be assumed he had a similar reason to your own.
Quiet resumed for a while as you both sat in silence listening to the crash of the waves. You tried not to look too long but in your peripheral, you could notice the messier than usual mop of bronze hair, a smudge of purple beneath his eyes and the ivory knit sweater Finnick wore was bunched over his hands as if to mimic mittens. He caught your glimpses after a minute and you quickly reverted back to looking at the horizon, hugging yourself a bit tighter as the wind swept the disturbed sand around your boots.
Inhaling through your nose for a brief moment you decided to break the silence, it hadn’t been awkward but by the twitch in Finnick’s jawline, you could tell he didn’t exactly prefer the quiet.
“Do you get nightmares too..?”
Your voice was a bit meek, toeing the line of a whisper as you kept your eyes trained on the water beyond. You tried not the notice the tension release in his shoulders as he dropped his head to look at his hands, a small but forced smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as an empty ‘tch’ huffed out with his reply.
“Was it that obvious ?” the slight tilt in his head as he turned to look at you had a few bronze waves falling over his forehead, the tug on the corner of his mouth showing his too-white teeth in a coy half smile. Ever so slightly turning to meet his gaze you couldn’t help marking the crinkle in the corner of his eyes or the slight dimples on his cheeks. No wonder the Capital adored him.
“What is it - three? No - four in the morning? You mustn’t think I’m out here for an evening stroll Odair.” you huffed, your tone slightly playful if only to keep the smile on his face. Your ploy worked as his cheshire grin widened, a small head shake tossing his bronze waves back and forth as his gaze flickered between yours.
He hummed in response, the brief glimmer of mischief returning to his sea-green eyes for a moment before quickly deflating again. “It’s hard to sleep when there’s always eyes watching,” he murmured, his gaze dropping back to his sweater mittens.
You paused, biting back a remark about his trade in secrets. To receive one from Finnick without a form of repayment was rare if ever from your experience watching the victor at capital functions in the upper districts. But you could tell he wasn’t asking for any repayment, that far-away look had glazed over his face again in an all too familiar way. “Sometimes I have to throw blankets over my windows just to feel any sense of privacy..” you softly return, you couldn’t know the full extent of his experience but you had your fair share of watching eyes from the Capital as a fellow victor.
Finnick’s gaze snapped back to yours, this time it was his turn to knit his brows in confusion, if it wasn’t for the nature of the conversation you might have taken the perceived concern - or was it..worry? to heart. But when it came to the Capital’s Darling you found it a bit puzzling to figure out which reactions were genuine, though a sneaking whisp of knowing allowed room to think this was true.
“I’m sorry…”
Your name sounded foreign on his tongue, had he ever directly addressed you before? It didn’t matter, you tried to push away the warmth that clung to your heart, averting your gaze from his stupid sea-green stare.
“It’s not your fault Finnick.”
You tried not to notice the spread of the warmth as his name left your lips.
He pushed a hand through his messy hair, no doubt dragging sand through it as well to be inevitably washed out later. Quiet returned, the soft rushing of water filling the silence as a small glow started to peek over the horizon. You enjoyed sunrises more than sunsets, watching the world slowly rise from slumber and start their day was a feeling you relished being one of the only ones to experience it sometimes.
“It’s hard… remembering the arena. Waking up feels more like a dream than the memories sometimes..” You sighed, feeling a weight start to press in on your shoulders as you spoke. “I know I’m not physically there anymore… but it still feels inescapable - like if I blink too fast I’ll be put back in with no way out..”
Drifting your hands up from your shoulders to your head, not quite covering your ears as they threaded through your hair, you blinked hard to try and fight the growing sting in your eyes. There was no way in hell you’d cry in front of him, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn and meet his gaze either.
“It just… it’s just horrible, what they make us do... a-and even after we survive we can’t have any form of peace.” You were starting to ramble, a familiar tightness creeping across your chest and throat as you subconsciously picked up a quicker breathing pattern.
The fear stung as you gripped your hair a bit tighter, trying to remember the sound of the ocean across the way and that Finnick was beside you. You didn’t feel much comfort at the fact he was practically watching you fall to pieces in front of him - actually, you felt awful for doing so. Horrors flashed behind your eyes that you furiously tried to blink away. “I-I’m sorry..”
You didn’t register a reply if he gave one, instead finding a sudden but gentle heat on your back. The warmth slowly spread, like flames starting to lick up your shoulders and neck and drawn in small, slow circles with an even pressure that oddly helped calm the rising panic in your system. You apologized for getting yourself worked up, it wasn’t fair to dump such a thing on him.
“It’s okay,, we all have a few skeletons in our closets..” He mumbles, adding that you didn’t have to apologize. For someone who excelled in confidence and strength, it was a tad odd to see the one and only Finnick Odair be gentle if not comforting to someone. There was a beat of silence and a falter of his hand on your back that brought in a nip of cold air at the absence as he must have realized what he’d been doing, “Is - is this okay,,?”
A simple nod and small hum in return from You and he resumed the gesture, your fingers slowly leaving your hair to gather on top of your boots, fidgeting with the sandy laces as you let your eyes flutter closed, wetting your lips and trying to control your uneven breaths.
“I get them too, not just the night terrors but the panic attacks..”
Your eyelids fluttered open, braving to meet his eyes as you listened to his confession.
“Usually I have to dunk my head in ice cold water to break out of it.. other times diving into the sea..”
Finnick’s gaze was tender, his lips pressed into a thin line as he peered over at you, another secret kept hidden under that Golden Boy mask revealed. You returned a small, tight-lipped smile as your gaze faltered from his out of a sudden nervousness.
“I guess there’s more in common between our Capital’s Darling and us mere mortals than I thought.“
You breathed with a small hint of a laugh. That cheshire grin was quick to make an appearance once again on Finnick’s face as he let out a low chuckle.
“I’d hardly place myself above anyone..” Finnick shook his head again, bronze waves whisking around in the wind but his grin didn’t falter.
“Hmm,” You hummed in response. The Darling’s circles on your back had slowed to a stop as you calmed down, eventually returning to its place over his knee. “Thank you.. for that, i-it helped a lot,” you murmur in thanks to him. He simply nods, telling you not to worry about it as the warm light of early morning starts to wash over his features. The weak light brings a new look to the Darling, and it’s the first time you’re able to notice that the brave Golden Boy facade of Finnick Odair is nowhere to be seen.
It’s refreshing, to say the least, he seems more relaxed, at ease in a sense as he watches the waves. The posture he normally holds isn’t there and the messy bronze waves of his hair make him seem almost nothing like the charming playboy the Capital adores, more human than anything to say the least.
You couldn’t bring yourself to really resent or dislike him in any way either, he may shine in the spotlight and favor of the Capital and career districts but you knew it was a light he didn’t choose nor have a say in. You’d heard the murmurs and noticed the prying eyes of the elite, always watching as if ready to pounce on the Darling victor. But Finnick carried himself with a self-assuredness that could put even the best victor to shame. He didn’t let the Capital see the fruits of their torture for what they did to him and if anything you could only admire his strength.
“You’re staring y'know ~ “
shit!
Shock smacked you in the face like a punch as an uncontrollable flush tinged your cheeks and ears red, averting your gaze to anywhere but those stupid sea-green eyes. “S-sorry..” you mumble, bending your head as if it could hide the embarrassment burning your face. Finnick’s laugh rises over the rolling waves as he tilts his head back, the coy smirk on his face downright insufferable if not…cute.
“It’s alright, you can stare if you want to,”
Finnick leaned to gently bump his shoulder to yours, a reassurance that you hadn’t made him uncomfortable in the slightest. Sighing through your nose you playfully reach out and shove him away, a small grin spreading on your own lips.
“In your dreams Odair.”
Your eyes meet once more as the sky turns from blues and purples to pinks and oranges, the weight that had been pressing on you only lingered now, much lighter than before and you could tell the same proved true for Finnick. The small giggle that left your lips had the smirk on his face growing wider by the second, dimples well and truly defined and his too-white teeth flashing in the morning light. Maybe, just maybe, you could learn to be friendly with him. It was… comforting - to have someone to confide in after the isolating years following your games.
“Would you like some tea ?”
“Drinking tea with a mortal? I’m flattered” You feign a dramatic wave across your forehead but accept his offer with a smile.
Another bout of laughter rises from Finnick’s throat and you no longer feel the cold or the wind. Your heart feels lighter, almost like a piece has managed to pick itself back up from the damage.
And maybe you could get used to those Sea-Green eyes.
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gxr25256 · 2 months ago
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Mercy in the Shadows - Sixshot x reader
🌵 If there are any mistakes, please forgive me.
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The black market of Cybertron sprawled beneath the grimy spires of an abandoned industrial sector, where the remnants of war and conquest had been shoved aside to decay in shadows. Towering structures—relics of past battles and conquests—cast long, harsh shadows over crowded rows of stalls where vendors hawked anything with a price. Stolen weapons, forbidden tech, scraps of Cybertronian armor, and unfortunate captives from distant planets—all of it littered the scene in a chaotic mixture of neon and rust. Each item was a trophy, a whisper of violence from a hundred other worlds, and Sixshot drifted through it with a growing, gnawing sense of restlessness.
Megatron’s unexpected day off grated against his nature; idleness felt like rust forming on his circuits. A day without purpose felt like a day stripped of his essence. That's insulting. But the boredom had brought him here, among his fellow Phase Sixers. They were scattered across the market, each drifting toward different distractions like predators prowling in the dusk.
Overlord prowled through the stalls with his usual swagger, laughing off merchants' terrified glances with mock kindness that barely hid his violent intent. Sixshot had long ago come to understand Overlord’s twisted relish for bloodshed, a brutality that went beyond any sense of duty. There was something grotesque, almost obscene, about his joy in suffering, a sentiment that made Sixshot uneasy.
Black Shadow, on the other hand, drifted between stalls with a smooth confidence, a face that alternated between detached boredom and intrigue. Occasionally, he exchanged a few sly words with some of the merchants or put his arm around some of his deceptions colleagues and appear very friendly. But Sixshot knew better—he saw through the charade. Black Shadow wasn't here out of camaraderie. No, the only reason he is here: profit. Energizing his private stockpile was his real objective. Sixshot knew as soon as black shadow got a good enough price, he’d betray them without a second thought.
Putting thoughts about his colleague aside, sixshot adjusted his posture. He leaned back against a wall of rough, rusted steel, arms crossed, optics skimming the market with a disinterested glare. His gaze skimmed over the vendors and buyers, creatures of every shape and size, each chattering in grating voices over who or what might be worth a trade. The entire place was a crowded mess, littered with broken artifacts and miserable captives. Some were quiet, others despairing, a few shouting or growling in languages he didn’t bother to understand.
But then, his optics landed on "you."
It took him a second to recognize the figure—a tiny form crammed behind the energy bars of a cage, looking so out of place it was almost laughable. Among the clanking, bulkier species of aliens, among all the caged beasts and prisoners from dozens of battlefronts, you stood out: fragile, trembling, skin pale under the harsh Cybertronian lights.
A human.
The human's fear was almost palpable. Your breathing was quick, shallow, and you clung to the far side of the cage as if hoping it would dissolve into an escape. Your wide eyes darted around the market in search of something, anything, to save you from the towering titans that prowled the area. That look was one Sixshot knew well.
He couldn’t resist the pull of curiosity. What do you feel when you know your existence is utterly insignificant in a universe ruled by giants? he mused. Something about their terror was... different from what he usually saw. Battle gave him excitement, yes, but this? This was a glimpse into the helplessness he so rarely encountered.
He pushed off the wall, striding slowly toward your cage, his optics studying every detail. Your small form clung to the bars, eyes darting wildly around the market, your breath coming in quick, shallow gulps. From the trembling in your limbs, to the way you pressed yourself against the back of the cage, every fiber of your being screamed of fear, like an animal that knew it was cornered and hopelessly outmatched.
There was no bravery in you, no defiance, no hidden strength waiting to be unveiled. And yet…your fear was different from what he normally saw in battle. There was a desperation in it, a rawness that he rarely encountered. The beings he faced on the battlefield had a hardened kind of fear, a last-stand defiance, as though they had already accepted their fate before they ever laid optics on him. They were soldiers, warriors resigned to the end. You were none of those things. You were terrified in a way he hadn’t seen since his earliest days of combat, when his first foes had still been innocent enough to believe that fighting back would save them.
He leaned closer, his optics boring down on you, watching with an intensity that made the cage rattle as his presence loomed. You flinched violently, clutching the bars of the cage as though willing yourself to vanish. Your eyes met his briefly, wide and pleading, then darted away, too afraid to hold his gaze. The look on your face—it stirred something deep within him, a flicker of recognition that was more instinct than memory.
This was prey. True prey. The kind that knew only terror, the kind that understood its helplessness in the face of absolute power.
He was aware of your every movement: the small tremors running through you, the quiver of your lip as you fought to stay silent, the shallow rise and fall of your chest as you struggled to control your breath. He could practically feel your pulse racing from where he stood, a tiny, frantic heartbeat in the face of a predator that could crush you with a single motion.
Something cold and calculating sparked in Sixshot’s optics as he observed you, an old, he hadn’t felt in cycles. It wasn’t the thrill of conquest, nor the satisfaction of a worthy opponent. It was simply a glimpse into something so small and insignificant that it gave him a reminder of what he truly was: a weapon, a machine of total annihilation, one that even other Decepticons viewed with unease. His power had made him a pariah, feared and isolated even among the monsters he called allies.
Yet, he respected the strong. He valued those who fought back, who met him on the battlefield with fire in their optics. This human was none of those things. But there was still something about them, something attractive.
An annoyed sigh came from him, like a roll of thunder. “Pathetic,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. But he didn’t move away. He stayed there, towering over the cage, optics fixed on you like a scientist inspecting a specimen.
The vendor, noticing Sixshot’s interest, sidled over eagerly, his voice a grating whine. “Quite a rare find, isn’t it? A rarity from that little backwater planet, Earth." The merchant gave a smug chuckle. “Not much of a fighter, but they cower in the most entertaining ways.”
The words barely registered to Sixshot. He continued to observe you, noting every subtle tremor, every desperate shift of your eyes. He saw the way your fingers gripped each other tightly, knuckles turning white under the strain, your breathing growing shallow as you tried to make yourself smaller, less visible.
“Interested?” the trader ventured, clearly hoping for a transaction.
Sixshot’s optics narrowed. “What would I do with something so fragile?” he replied, his tone dismissive, though his gaze hadn’t shifted.
The merchant chuckled, mistaking Sixshot's interest as mere curiosity . “A toy, perhaps. Or a pet to keep your quarters interesting. Some find it amusing, having one of these creatures cowering in the corner, watching you with those little eyes. It can be… satisfying.”
The idea of taking you as a “pet” was laughable to him. Amusing? No, that wasn’t it. He had no need for amusement. His life was not about leisure or indulgence—it was about the thrill of worthy combat, the satisfaction of watching an opponent meet their end with dignity or terror. You didn’t fit into that world; you were not a warrior, nor an enemy, nor anything remotely close to a combatant. And yet, your fear called to him.
It would be so easy to snuff out that fear. One flick of his finger could silence you, end your miserable terror in an instant. It would be a mercy—a quick death, a release from the agony of knowing you were powerless.
And yet, he didn’t.
“Do you understand what you are?” he asked quietly, his voice a deep, rumbling growl that filled the space around you. The question seemed almost rhetorical, but he was genuinely curious. What went on in a mind that knew it was nothing more than prey? A creature so weak it couldn’t even defend itself, forced to rely on hope or mercy—neither of which existed here.
Your head lifted, just barely, and you managed a timid nod, your eyes wide and glazed with tears. He could see the struggle in your face, the way you fought to keep some shred of composure in the face of absolute terror.
"Then you understand this is where you die," he continued, almost conversationally, as if discussing the weather. His tone held no malice, no cruelty; it was a simple statement of fact.
Your lips parted, a faint tremble to your voice. "Please…" The word slipped out, barely audible, a plea that you knew was pointless yet voiced out of desperation.
With a dismissive huff, he straightened, turning away from the cage, folding his arms and giving you a final, unreadable look. “I’ll take this one,” he said simply to the merchant, his voice devoid of any emotion but finality.
The merchant’s face brightened with greed. “A fine choice! You’ll enjoy having a creature so… malleable. They’re delightful to break.”
Sixshot didn’t respond. He didn’t take you because he wanted a pet. He didn’t take you becausehe found any joy in your terror. But perhaps, in his own way, he was giving you a purpose. A purpose in his world—a chance to exist, however briefly. Or it would simply be a way for him to kill time.
Whatever it is, then for you, it would be the beginning of a nightmare from which there was no escape.
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flame-shadow · 8 months ago
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@fly-sky-high-bug-games asked for folks to share their bug murderers, so here are some of mine :)
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There's Charon, obviously. He's selective about his prey, often spending time learning their quirks and subtly testing their reactions before he decides to hunt them down for the kill. Though he's not opposed to the occasional kill of opportunity if circumstances work out!
Chalice is next. Though he's a nosk and a proud beast, some of his kills are absolutely murders rather than just him needing to eat. You cannot make him feel guilty about it, though. He is pleasantly unphased. Genially removed from the ethical foibles of bug society. He will also vivisect some of the bugs he captures. For scientific purposes, mostly.
Jynx down there is a tiny terror who has caused a few of her siblings to develop negative associations with the happy sound of jingling bells. She plays cute and innocent to charm bugs and get on their good sides, and she takes advantage of those good rapports to have people who will defend her when the stray accusation comes her way.
Koretta. She doesn't like being in this group, but it's where she feels she belongs. She may have been infected when she performed the marketplace slaughter, but it was still her hands, her nail, her fists... And the scars are right there on her shell as the victims -some even her fellow guards- fought back, trying to defend themselves against her....
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hotvampireadjacent · 7 months ago
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In too sick to turn on the local news…. The people in the United States will hear about a coup in Bolivia in passing and not care. I will voice my concern and everyone will ask me why I care so much about a tiny country in Latin America they don’t even know exists.
I am Latino so I understand their suffering under the terrorism of the United States. Above our shared identify, how could I not care about fellow humans?
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