#but he’ll get hugs

[marysunburn]

Azir the Exile: prologue

(this is another AU I’ve been mentioning for a while that has nothing to do with the one about Azir being tortured by Xerath, even though he’s not happy in this one either because it’s my AU)

-This is the last time you shame us with your stupidity.-

-Father… I beg you.-

Prince Azir, twelve years of age, the sweetest eyes you’d ever see in the Royal Palace or elsewhere now filled with glassy tears, kneels at the bottom of the throne as if his blood was of no worth. He’s never begged, before: not even his own father.

None dare look in his eyes: not the Queen, who seems to relish in her husband’s words, nor his older siblings, standing in a row by her side. They know their little brother is lost, and despite their heavy hearts, none of them could possibly fathom Azir’s decision.

He’s always been strange, but not like this.

-Fraternizing with the lowlife is idiotic even for you. Never…- the Emperor sounds tired, as if he was the hurt party in the situation. -Never has anyone in this dinasty ever insulted us this way.-

-Xerath is good! He’s been good to me, he respects me! He thinks I’m smart.-

-Xerath.- Despite Shurima’s relentless heat, the air seems to freeze around the Emperor. -That one doesn’t deserve a name.-

-I gave it to him, because he’s mine. He’s good and smart… and if you just cared to know him!-

Azir’s eyes seem to bulge out of their sockets he’s crying so much. Even the palace guards look at each other as if the kid has gone mad.

-We of Royal blood give no heed to his kind. But worry not about him: soon he’ll no longer be of worry. Mind your own life, child, and be cert…-

-IMPERIAL MAJESTY, WATCH OUT!-

As if he’d forgotten his fear entirely, Azir lunges to the throne like a rampaging hawk and raises his fists towards his father’s face.

Fists rain upon him; the guards, the servants, even his own mother. But even as strong adult arms drag him away from the throne, hairband coming undone in a flood of locs, he thrashes and weeps.

-NO! NOT XERATH… PLEASE, DON’T! HE’S MY FRIEND… Y-YOU CAN’T…-

Being exiled could have been a sweeter ordeal with his friend by his side. Xerath is clever and inventive, and already saved his life once. They could have lived a life of adventure and forget the loss of status.

But the threat of losing him makes Azir lose what little restraint he has.

As he’s dragged off into the street, kicking and sobbing until he’s out of breath, he witnesses the court artisans carving his name and face away from all the mosaics, the servants ripping his likeness from the paintings, and baskets and boxes of his books, jewels, make-up, his lyre, his practice armor and his own ornate dagger being taken from his rooms.

But there’s one thing – one man – on his mind.

-DON’T HURT HIM, PH… PLEASE! XERATH IS MY… MY FRIEND. DON’T KILL HIM PLEASE, FATHER PLEASE! MOTHER… SOMEONE… please-

~ ~ ~

Azir finds himself out a backdoor, kneeling into the scalding sand, his tears drawing circles into the floor.

Until the evening he screams – he bangs at the door calling Xerath’s name, shedding blood from his fists and growing hoarse with every scream.

It’s over. All his love did was ruin the one person who genuinely cared for him.

When dusk falls, Azir’s strength has expired – but not his tears. He sits in the corner of the back alley he was tossed out of, like a discarded kitten, muttering Xerath’s sweet lost name, and looking upon the wreckage he made of himself.

One day ago he was a prince, clad in gold and silk, beloved by the kingdom and coveted by the worthy. Now he’s nothing. No name, no friends, no place to go, no skills outside from ruling.

So, when a shadow looms over him, he only has the strength to raise his neck – and through the film of tears, a familiar face appears.

-Little bird?-

[artsymeeshee]

Random idea I got this morning thinking about how small little things (mostly about missing important moments of the past) make the boys emotional and sorrowful.

[caelustar]

Day 4 - Isolation

does it get better…?

[crazylittlejester]

something something Wars used to heavily rely on physical affection to express his care for the people around him and he grew up in an environment where physical contact was not rare, and even training in the army it wasn’t that uncommon, but once the war started and everything that went down happened he couldn’t handle it anymore which left him feeling horrible and isolated because he couldn’t stand being hugged by anyone since it felt like being restrained and he lost a lot of his ability to trust people and became an overall jumpy person. and this made him miserable because he so badly craved that contact again but he knew it’d just set him off and he got pretty lonely and touch starved something something and as the years went by and he started healing he slowly worked his way towards getting more comfortable with it again, and now with the chain (even if someone should NEVER touch him without warning, especially if he doesn’t see them coming because he’ll instinctively pull out a knife faster than you can blink) he’s gotten to the point where he’s fine as long as he’s initiating it and he’s relearning the comfort of being physically close to people and now feels safe enough with the others that he’ll go flop down by Twilight at night and wiggle his way under the wolf pelt (because dont lie to me and say Twi doesn’t use that thing as a blanket) when he gets cold, or pick Wind up and spin him around, or sling his arm around someone’s shoulders when he’s proud of them as a way to say “good job”

kicks a rock or something, i dont know i’m having Thoughts

[impish-ivy]

Solomon constantly asking for your reassurance whenever he engages in anything romantic is due to his insecurity that he isn’t as important to you as the brothers. He needs to know you want to do this, he needs to know you love him.

If you say no he immediately backs off. You have to go out of your way to kiss him. There’s never a dialogue option that leads to a kiss without you explicitly asking for one, unlike some characters.

[keirientez]

morning

[thewallsaretalking-again]

“HAHAHA! look at his audial finals! Theyre taller than his fraggin' head!"

“Forget the finals length, look at his legs! He’s got SKYSCRAPERS for stabilizing servos!”

The young bots continued to hurl childish insults at Orion, who could do nothing but sit and watch as the loud voices of his peers rang through the hallway, bringing even more attention to the spat. The students had begun to gather around, some of them starting to snicker at the faces Orion made.

It was one of the few days where Orion was outside of the achives; a school day. It was the end of his second week at [REDACTED]. Like many new sparklings, Orion was having a bit of a hard time adjusting to his new environment and schedule: But he had a very different cause for it. Orion was, in human terms, around seven or eight, but he was only now being put into school for the first time. He knew practically nothing compared to other other bitlets his age. This, Again, was common for many sparklings, especially those of the lower castes; But this again brings up many other problems. Orion had spent half of his life tucked away from civilization in the cybertronian wilds, where food was scarce and life was scarcer. Being taken into Iacon city so suddenly had jolted his senses to an overwhelming point, and randomly being taught to talk and how and have manners was almost a breaking point for the young mech.

Now, Orion was facing a new and very real threat; socialization. Alpha Trion had hoped seeing bots his age would relax Orion some; possibly make his feel more at ease; but the opposite had happened. And, unfortunately. this as just the first of many, MANY rough encounters that Orion would have

“Haha…ew, EW! Look at his denta! They’re so sharp! What’s wrong with him?"

"Sweet Solus Prime! His servos are so sharp! Those things could rip a scraplet apart!”

“EEK! He’s looking at me! Get those creepy eyes off me you freak!”

Orion backed up even further as the crowd got closer and closer to him. Hearing himself clang into the corner of the hallway, Orion reached around the wall for something to grab onto. When he found nothing, he clutched his clawed servos to his chest and tried to make himself as small as possible, letting out an animalistic whimper.

The crowd roared with laughter at the strange sound he made, and only continuer to point out the things that were "wrong" with him: His long arms, his thin stature, his lack of armor; on and on the bitlets went, no sympathy running though their systems.

Just as Orion felt the farmiliar prick of tears in his optics, the bell rang, telling the botlings that they could now leave for the day. As the other botlings ran out the door, Orion blinked and lubricant steamed down his face. He stood there thinking of everything his peers had said about him, feeling something twist inside him as he gingerly grabbed his denta. Alpha Trion has always told him that wrongs could be righted… could he right this? This… none of this made sense…

“Hey! Get out of here you little rust stain! Schools out!”

Orion jumped at the obnoxious sound of his teachers voice. He scurried out of the hallway, head spinning, his metaphorical tail between his legs.

(BONUS)

Alpha trions heels clicked as he walked through the hall of records, looking for Orion. He noticed that Orion had been running off with increasing frequency since he bagan school half a cycle ago. Alpha Trion had begun to grow worried; Orion only talked about the things he learned at school and not about his peers or teachers. Not to mention, when he talked about the things that he learned he sounded… somewhat passionless about it. He always came home looking tired and defeated, and Alpha Trion was becoming more and more worried.

He quickly stopped and adjusted his audio receptors. Listening as well as he could, he faintly heard a sound resembling sudden puffs of air. Following the sound, it led him to an old storage room in the back of the archives. Everything back here was dark and musty, probably rusty and broken too, he thought to himself as he stared at an old toolbox left lying open in the middle of the hallway. Hearing the sound he was following again, he listened closely. It sounded almost like… Alpha Trion immediately perked up, running to a storage room a few rooms down and swiftly opening the door.

Alpha Trions spark sank as he stared at the scene before him. Orion was sitting in front of a dusty, broken mirror with a pair of rusty pliers in his servo; they were clamped onto one of his sharpest teeth, and were being tugged at viciously. Poor Orion was sobbing uncontrollably as he continued to make himself bleed. Alpha Trion rushed over, putting his servo over Orions, making him stop in his tracks. Orion glanced at him with a face full of sadness. Nothing was said as Orion dropped the rusty pliers and fell into Alpha Trions open arms. Alpha Trion sighed; he had a sneaking suspicion as to why Orion was so vague about his life outside of the Archives… And he had a horrible feeling about it…

————————————————————————

Heheh terrible oneshot(s) go brrrr

No but seriously I had this idea late yesterday and I wanted to post it today but I ended up having stuff to do so I posted it tonight instead. This is less of feral Orion, but more post-feral Orion and the some of the struggles he faces in his everyday life (As well as giving some hints as to why Optimus ended up the way he is now). This ended up being a bit more serious than I intended it to be in all actuality, but you can’t really tell why from this part of the story alone. I’ll probably post that tommorow.

Also just for the record this thing was written on the fly, wasnt proof read, or just generally didn’t get any of that nice professional stuff, so that’s probably why is 1. Sucks 2. Has some gramatical or punctuation errors.

[toapoet]

i know geralt is like token grumpy guy but what if he was also like…the “free dad hugs” guy at pride. ??

[krisssssssy]

[squash1]

uh oh.

i’m thinking about how ronan wants to return to a home that doesn’t exist anymore. in the dream thieves he is desperate to go home and when he finally gets to, it isn’t the same. the place itself is the same, he still knows where the silverware is and where to find baby mice, but the pureness and comfort is tainted. home for ronan was always his family together, or at least his mother and brothers together, in a self-described paradise — a place dreamt to be perfection.

but that perfection, the simplicity of his childhood home, of his childhood is gone. having this physical displacement from the barns is representational of ronan’s loss of his actual childhood — by loosing his father, his mother, and his close relationship to his brothers, ronan’s childhood bubble is abruptly popped. his longing to go home, to have everything stay the same forever is so goddamn painful because it’s so familiar for so many of us. wanting to go to a place or a time or back to a person that doesn’t exist anymore or at least not in the context you knew it/them in, is part of growing up. it’s realizing the limitations of comfort and time. realizing that those limitations apply to people and place.

[prettyboykatsuki]

“gets in your space but doesn’t say anything before leaving again” is the most insane thing you said last night and it’s going to haunt me forever dear Christ

once again his nii-chan disorder is kicking his ass. he crowds your space when you’re not doing anything… doesnt really touch you or be around you just sort of hovers. messes around with your hands or your earrings. if you acknowledge him he smiles a little but for the most part he just hangs around like a wraith and goes away again SHGNSJFJ . he is so ridiculous

[whoblewboobear]

Jace lets Zara feed on him sometimes bc that’s his best friend and he loves her, Send Tweet

[always-smileing]

can I hug creepshow Sun? He looks friend shaped to me :)

He likes hugs but he’d rather not have someone hug his TV and ‘smudge’ the screen but if he could he’d jump right out of the tv and hug ya!

[thatsrightice]

When the flyboys found out they couldn’t get parachutes they immediately knew they had to go to Crosby, but I’ll bet they still drew straws to see who had to tell him like:

“You do it”

“I don’t want to do it you do it”

“C’mon just man up”

“Why’s this such a big deal anyway”

“He’s going to flip out”

“Obviously”

“I just don’t want him to get in trouble for losing his mind on some non-co alright?”

“He’ll be fine I saw him get in the Colonel’s face last week because the guy wanted to sign off on a mission he didn’t approve of and nothing happened”

“We need to quit wasting time just go it’ll be fine”

“No you do it you’re his favorite”

“He says he doesn’t pick favorites”

“Well he’s lying”

“Yeah every mom says they don’t pick favorites but they definitely do”

“But I was the one who told him about the broken chair and took all the blame”

“Oh yeah? What was your punishment?”

“…I was grounded”

“Now does that sound like a punishment to you?”

“…no”

“Exactly now go”

[torawro]

MY EYES BURN BECAUSE I’M CRYING😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 pls leave me be let me sob uncontrollably over giyuu my heart can’t take it

[beans-and-shet]

A cat climbing a tree(hugger)