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deunmiu-dessie · 8 months ago

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▬ ⁽ 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑒 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎: ₂˖₁ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎: unedited----- attempted murder, fluff(??), angst. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ ꒰shade ₊⊹ gn!reader꒱

thinking of a shade, just a little more powerful and smarter than the rest, becoming your protector. little ol' you who's had severe insomnia since you were a child. ♡

shade who didnt want to at first, since it usually didn't meddle in human affairs; besides you were nothing special. ♡

shade who ignores you for the first couple of days before begrudgingly shooing away the pesky, lower demons who crawl over your body. ♡

shade who lays next to you and wraps you within its arms ˙◠˙

shade who finds immense satisfaction in watching you sleep for the first time in a long time. ♡

shade who watches as the demons instead prey on your family. ♡

shade who is too enamored with you to even care. ♡

shade who watches your family fall apart. ♡

𝒴 our lashes flutter open in the inky black room, eyes reflecting a glossy sheen from the remnants of sleep, all while the sound of your sniveling fills the darkness that surrounds you. Against your pale complexion, the deep, dark circles under your eyes become prominent, now moistened by the tears streaming down your cheeks in small rivers. You struggle to recall the last time you experienced a full night's sleep, the memory fading away as you reach the tender age of seven.

Despite the numerous prescriptions, medical professionals, therapists, and even herbal teas you have tried, none have succeeded in lulling you to sleep. You remain confined to your bed, yearning for the day when your eyes will finally close and you’lll find respite in sleep, yet that day never arrives. Occasionally, you manage to drift off into a state of unconsciousness, albeit for a mere five or ten minutes, but it never feels like true sleep. Every now and then your plagued by nightmares—disturbing and horrifying dreams that startle you awake, leaving you gasping for breath.

Ever since you were a small child, you had been wanting, no craving to have a good night's rest– though your weren't so sure anymore. Not if the black abyss that threatens to swallow you whole almost every night is the thing greeting you happily when you finally succumb to the person that is sleep.

Nevertheless, you refuses to let it impact you social life. Each morning, as the sun warmly embraces you with a melancholic smile, you rise from your bed and diligently apply layers of concealer and foundation to mask the exhaustion evident in your eyes. Peering into the mirror, you practice a smile, willing your eyes to sparkle, and whisper softly to yourself, "I'm okay."

You're not okay, you swerve gently in and out of traffic, eyelids heavy as you force yourself to work. All you want is to sleep, to feel normal again. Deep down, you knows that what you yearn for is something you can never truly have, but yiu can always ‘dream’.

As the day finally draws to a close, you retreat to your bed – the same bed that bears the imprint of your body from countless nights, the same pillow that holds your thoughts and tears captive, and the same dusty dream catcher that fails to capture any dreams. You're anxious for what your mind might conjure up tonight, but you embrace it with ease – slipping beneath your cozy comforter and switching off the lamp.

A cool warmth envelops your body, your tense muscles finally finding release, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you. You nestle yourself into that snug cocoon – savoring the way it makes your eyes grow heavy with the blissful weight of sleep. It's not the kind of sleep that startles you awake in a panic every night, but rather one that feels natural and inviting.

You're too comfortable to notice the faint outline of a body beside you, mind too far gone to notice the emaciated arms that tighten themselves around your body, pressing your form into the depths of its torso. Even if you were of sound mind, you would simply attribute any strange sensations to your lack of sleep.

That night you sleep for the first time in twelve years, without any nightmares to ruin the unusual but sweet moment. You, this time, don't greet the sun as it rises in the sky, no, you don't wake up until late evening, waving goodbye to the sun as it drifts away from your sight.

Suddenly, your alarm blares from your nightstand, reminding you of your impending night shift. Dread fills you as you recall the eerie occurrences that often plague you during these dark hours– shadows come to life, items are in places you didn’t put them and customers come in faceless.

You feel fine today, energized even. You don't want to push your luck though; and so when you leave for work, passing your mother and older sister- who seem to be completely out of it, you grab an energy drink and wave them goodbye.

You worked diligently and quickly that night, your manager thoroughly surprised that your movements aren’t sluggish anymore and so he praises you enthusiastically– you can only smile in thanks as you rings up another customer.

The night goes on smoothly, and as the sun begins to rise and wave its warmth at you, you realize that the energy drink is still next to you, untouched. You're tired from working the night though and you clock out as soon as the time strikes 6AM.

Cool brisk air greets you as you exit the gas station, wisps of cold brushing your cheeks while you walk to your car. Excitement fills you as you look forward to finally getting some rest after a long day. However, a lingering sense of caution remains, reminding you that what occurred earlier might have been a mere coincidence; and so the car ride home is made up of your thumb tapping against the steering wheel and the sound of your heart pumping quickly. Silently, you ease open the door to the house, moving with delicate steps as you enter. You gently places your keys into a bowl, its transparent purple hue catching the light. You hang up your thin jacket and slide out of your shoes, placing them in front of the shoe closet haphazardly. As you ascend the staircase, your movements are hushed, making sure to avoid any creaks on the staircase. You reach your room door, a contented sigh escaping your lips. You plop down on your bed without a second thought, still clad in your work attire. With the room pitch black, You sleep easily. Cocooned in warmth once more, your body relaxes itself. Despite feeling a slight pressure on your body, you pay it no mind.

Sleep comes quick for you, but not your family. The moment your head touches the pillow, their nightmares start to rear their ugly heads, their once peaceful sleep is no more.

The dark figure that graces you with sweet dreams, relishes in the way your skin gains color, the way your dark circles lighten and your forehead creases smoothe out. You weren't special in any way, many humans out there had the exact same condition that you did- maybe even a bit worse off than you.

The entity couldn't resist being irresistibly drawn to you, despite its own reservations. Seeing a human with so much potential- wasted, was excruciating. So, it clings onto you tightly, using its presence as a protective barrier against the demons that are inexplicably lured by your human essence and dormant state. However, the shade finds itself far from bored. It observes as your chest rises and falls with each breath, watches as your lips curve sporadically with sleeping ticks; and the serene expression that graces your face. It can even discern the muffled whimpers and groans emanating from the rest of your family in the adjacent hallway, as the demons voraciously feed on their fear and anguish, draining their life force. The shade doesn’t care if your family suffers for a bit longer though, now they can fill your shoes. It was only fair. Your lashes flutter and then open at 8:19 PM, you can hear the sound of pots and pans in the kitchen just down the stairs and the soft jazz music that only plays when your mom is cooking. You slide out of bed and pad softly out of the room, stretching your body as you walk down the stairs.

"Good morning," you playfully mumble to your older sister, who is seated at the kitchen island. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion when your sister doesn't reply. Curiosity piqued, you took a few steps closer, gasp of surprise quickly stifled. Jo-Lene’s face is pale, her lips are chapped and her cheeks a bit sunken in. Around her eyes are dark circles that the girl has never gotten before. You cups your sister's face in your hands, titling it back and forth. “ Have you stayed up late working on your book?” Jo shakes her head, softly removing your hands from her cheeks. The older of the two of you shrugs her shoulders and covers a yawn with her hand. "I haven't been getting much sleep lately."

Slowly, she trails off and shakes her head, taking a moment to savor the dark coffee in her cup. "You know, besides the fact that I can't sleep, I also have the most terrible nightmares," she admits. You nod in understanding, settling down beside her and grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl. "You're starting to sound just like me," You tease, playfully rubbing her shoulder to offer comfort.

With a slow fade in her voice, she trails off and shakes her head, taking a deliberate sip of her dark coffee. "You know, it's not just me. Mom and Dad struggle with sleep too," she reveals. You glance at your mother, eyes widening in disbelief. "You're not kidding," You bite into your banana before pushing it against the side of your cheek to speak. “Weirdly? I’ve been able to sleep for the past 2 days. No nightmares; and for hours at a time.”

Your mother stops chopping up vegetables, mouth slightly ajar and eyebrows raised. “Oh! Honey, that's amazing, I’m so happy for you. How did you do it?” You can't recall doing anything out of the ordinary, except praying to sleep well. You shrug your shoulders and chew the banana some more before swallowing. “I didn’t do anything, it just happened.” Jo nudges you with a smile. “Maybe you’re cured.” You give her a sarcastic smile, grabbing her coffee and taking a sip. "I highly doubt it, probably just a one-time thing."

“Also, this could be temporary for you guys as well. I’m sure it’ll pass soon.”

Little did they know, this temporary situation was about to become a never-ending nightmare. Days turned into weeks, and your restful slumber continued while the rest of the family suffered from sleepless nights. As sleep deprivation took its toll, the atmosphere in the house became increasingly tense. Your fathers short fuse ignited violent outbursts, leaving you helpless as you watch your family crumbled before your eyes. Initially, you played the role of peacemaker, but as time went on, resentment grew.

As the weeks pass, younotices a shift in the house. Your family seems to be keeping their distance, observing your peaceful sleep and well-rested demeanor with suspicion. Slowly, they begin to direct their frustrations and animosity towards you.

You learn to sleep with your door locked, especially after a harrowing night where you wake up to an alarming pressure against your neck, feeling your father's chubby, thick hands squeezing your throat. Determined to protect yourself, you start sleeping with your door locked and even go as far as barricading it, when your mother begins sleeping beside you, clutching a knife tightly between the two of you. Your once close-knit family becomes a source of fear and suspicion, leading you to distance yourself and cut off communication. Preferring solitude, you opt to order food instead of joining them for dinner and secretly slip out of your window to go to work. You’re consumed by terror when it comes to your family, but you refuse to surrender to the sleepless nights you endured in the past.

Even if it kills you, you think your family can suffer for a little longer. You’ve dealt with severe Insomnia since you were little, and you were still sane. As a sharp knock resonates through the door, your body tenses. You hear your sister's gentle, drowsy voice calling out, "Are you awake?" Though cautious, you respond with a soft hum, ensuring Jo-Lene can hear you. “I want to apologize. Mom and Dad have gone a bit crazy.” You cut Jo off with a scoff. “A bit? Dad tried to strangle me and Mom isn’t any better.” Jo is silent for a moment before sniffling. “You're right, which is why I think you need to leave.” You blinked owlishly at the door, eyebrows furrowing. “What? What do you mean?”

“Mom and Dad have set up an account to transfer money to you.” A small envelope is slid underneath your door. “Find a motel to stay at until you think you’re ready for an apartment.” You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating your decision. "Ok, then what.” Jo shrugs despite you not being able to see her. “We’ll see each other on Holidays?” She jokes softly but you don't laugh.

“For how long?”

“Until we can figure out this whole situation.”

You hum before getting out of bed and grabbing the envelope that has the credit card in it. “Okay. I’ll leave.”

You leave in the morning, without saying goodbye to your family and without looking back. You smile softly at the faint, dark outline of the entity next to you and sit on a bench in front of a bus stop.

“ Thank you.”

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margaret-97 · 9 months ago

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Alexis & human!Starscream

#transformers #transformers armada #starscream armada #alexis thi dang #alexis #starscream #sunshine x sunshine protector #humanformers #kind of #he is just a human sized robot #starxis

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thesoftestmess · 11 months ago

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this might not be canon, but personally i need furina to struggle a whole lot longer and harder with post-prophecy depression and mental illness. She's played the same tiring and painful act for five centuries, was constantly in a life or death scenario and had to hide her true self from the world the entire time and she won't just recover in a few years from that.

There's parts of her that will never ever be compatible with a simple human lifestyle, and parts of her that are irreparably broken. She isn't sure of her personality after everything that happened and the lie she had to live. She slips between personas and her archon temperament comes through like a defensive mechanism at any sign of conflict or trouble.

She's plagued by nightmares. Of the flood, of the trial, of the people closest to her conspiring against her behind her back, and of being found out in a million terrible ways. Of saying the wrong thing, making a wrong decision. Of being found out, of being found out, of being found out.

Lying or keeping a secret feels existential still. Being honest still feels life threatening sometimes. Putting herself first feels like putting both hands on a hot stove.

She doesn't live in the palais anymore, doesn't have to sit through trials anymore, but her heart and soul are still there. In her dreams she's still at the place she spent her entire life's memories at.

Yes, she can make new memories, but it'll take time. More time than she has, maybe, now that she's the closest to being human she'll ever be.

She'll never be human in the way the people around her are.

What sort of human has 500 years worth of memories after all? What human tells personal anecdotes and mixes up their centuries?

What sort of human can feel the absence of their divinity like it's a physical thing? A voice that will never speak to her again, or keep her alive? What human has no family, no childhood?

What human remembers so little, but still remembers death somewhere deep within?

She jerks out of sleep from it sometimes, gasping for air, and spends the rest of the night awake, almost frozen by fear. The flood is over, but it's hard to convince her racing heart that the danger is too.

Humans have entire family trees that go generations back, but Furina was put into this world a solitary creature, her blood heavy with sin ever since she turned human.

She owns a hydro vision now and doesn't know how to yield it, but the ocean still calls out to her some days. Sea creatures flock to her like they can smell she's not human enough.

She learns how to make little hydro companions for herself, so the darkness and emptiness of her apartment feels less ominous when she lies awake at night.

She can't turn her vision into a weapon quite yet, but when it rains the droplets seem to cling to her. She's watched them roll upwards along her arm, watched them gather in her palm like kin. She wonders if sea creatures flock to neuvillette in a similar way, or if his immense power makes them recoil. She wonders if elemental dragons can feel regret. Wonders if he, too, ever feels entirely foreign in that human body he was given. If he, too, lies awake trying to grasp faint memories of a past life.

She's extremely human in the way she's plagued by body pains from not being able to relax just one day in five centuries. The years catch up with her once she gets out of survival mode, and fatigue is a constant companion now. Sleep comes difficultly and getting out of bed was easier when the fate of a whole nation depended on it. On her. She's never lived for just herself before and some days she's not sure she wants to.

She did her duty and earned her retirement and the story turned out well, all things considered. She still has people by her side, some of them.

Still, she feels raw and tired and overwhelmed by the life lying ahead of her. As a human and as someone who will always be Something Else.

#you can have your perfectly competent fully healed hyper independent furina #if i can have my mess of a person multiply-disordered and trying her best furina #like i'm sorry but this babygirl can fit sooooo much ptsd and depression and personality disorder into her #that's a girl with lifelong chronic pain from not being allowed to relax for a day in five centuries #that's a girl who needs a teeth protector at night because she'd grind he #*them into a fine powder from all the tension she still holds #that's someone who gets so low so suddenly and loes all her joy in the matter of minutes #that's someone who wants to catch up on a lifetime of being human but is bone-deep exhausted #and crushed by fatigued #my disability beam went all over her like neuv's water gun #now she's sopping wet and shivering i'm sorry #genshin impact #furina #fari talks fic

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allmyhomieshatelawns · 20 days ago

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Heyo I was seized by plot bunnies, so have a little DCXDP! Note, this IS heavily inspired by @phantomfen 's ao3 work https://archiveofourown.org/works/57152017

I highly recommend reading that, but this isn't connected, just inspired. This snippet is also inspired by the song "The Tale of The Shadow" by Sail North. I hope you enjoy!

This is Dead on Main because they're my favorite~

The Shadow:

The wooden boards groaned underneath my weight, as I paced in front of the boat I had purchased. I had finally done it. Bruce wasn't going to be happy, but when was he ever happy with what I did? I shook my head, straightening up as I heard several pairs of booted feet. Turning, I saw a gaggle of hardened sailors making their way down the docks towards me.

My own boat bobbed happily in the water next to me. It was smaller than anything that would normally carry cargo. I just hoped we weren't seen as a new rival pirate company. Bruce already dealt with the majority of them, but they always kept breaking out of jail and reclaiming their territory. The idea to claim it for myself was tempting, but that could come after I had found my prize.

For as long as I could remember, Alfred had put me to bed with a variety of stories. Above and beyond my favorite, besides anything set in the regency era, was the tale of The Shadow. A spectral ship, empty of any Captain or crew, but supposedly full of treasure, waiting for the right Captain to claim her. The only person said to be on the ship was some deck boy strung up to be thrown overboard. It wasn't known what the boy could have done to earn eternity on a damned ship, but I hoped I wouldn't find out.

Alfred couldn't tell me where the treasure had come from, but he did tell me of the many times someone tried to claim The Shadow for themselves, but each time, something would go wrong. The weather would turn, the crew would mutiny, a kraken would come and swallow their ship, the ship would come alive and kill the crew, the story would change but stay the same. No one was able to claim her.

The very idea sent me swooning. Tim and Dick both told me not to bother trying to look. Damian thought I was an idiot for believing the ship existed at all. With our nighttime activities of defending Gotham from gangs, pirates, and worse, I didn't know where they got the audacity to be such blatant hypocrites. If someone like Deadman could exist, then so too could The Shadow.

"Ready to go, Captain Jason?" A man I had hired on as First Mate stepped up beside me, a grin twisting his rugged features. He was unshaven, wearing sturdy clothing meant for hard labor. His hair was short and rusty brown, his eyes were a dull green, watering a bit. He slouched, turning to glance back at the men as they loaded themselves on, and began the process of getting the ship ready to sail.

My grin was sharper than his, and I hopped across the gap, landing on the top deck of the ship. Turning back to him, I gestured the man to follow. We toured the ship, and I made sure everything was flowing as it should. I had made sure to do my research on how ships ran, especially old ones, since the legend of The Shadow was as old as seafaring itself, maybe older. I knew how to sail a modern ship as well as, as many of the older versions of ships as I could sink my teeth into. I was ass at canoe, though I had no idea why. Kayaking was fine, and so was a little speed boat, but not a canoe. I kept getting flipped.

…

We cast out to sea, radio on and scanning for any unusual traffic. We were equipped to fish, and that's technically what we would be doing the most of. There was no telling how long it would take to find The Shadow, but I had made a map of where it had been sighted, color-coded by decade. We would find that ship, and I would… I would shove it in Bruce's face to stop doubting me. I would have finally proven myself to him, and he wouldn't have any choice but to pay attention!

Weeks passed, slowly sailing to each spot The Shadow had been spotted. We would occasionally put to port to speak with the ones whom had made the report. The crew was a little irritated with how long that method would take, so currently we were sailing out for our next destination, a series of sightings in the middle of the Atlantic.

"Captain! A storm's on the horizon!" One of the crew called from the crow's nest, sounding really worried.

"Size of the clouds?" I called back, already striding to the back deck to pull out my spyglass and get a better look. We had yet to see a storm yet, but it was sometimes said The Shadow would use them to travel, seemingly popping up once the storm passed and scaring the shit out of people.

"Too big! This storm'll tear us apart!" He called back, the nervous strings of his voice ringing out and alerting the rest of the crew that something wasn't right.

"Captain?" First Mate stepped up, hand reaching out for the spyglass. I handed it over easily, watching him as he held it up to his eye and looked through carefully. Pulling the lens from his eye, he glanced at me, giving a sharp nod.

"This is the best sign we've gotten so far." He announced, getting cheers from the crew. Shouldn't I be the one making that kind of announcement? Oh well. "With any luck, The Shadow is amongst those clouds! The treasure is close!"

The crew crowed in excitement, pumping their fists in the air. I dismissed them back to work, not liking some of the looks they would throw me when they thought I wouldn't notice. This crew wasn't my best idea, but it was almost over, I could almost taste the treasure on the air. We would split our shares, and be on our way.

…

Ocean spray blew into the air, flung across achingly familiar wooden planks. I glided across the damp wood, watching the ocean thrown around by my storm. The Shadow slipped across the water, my awareness brushing across something new. The souls wrapped around my throat like pearls shuddered at the foreign feeling, their rest disturbed. Interest piqued my mind however, the beauty of the ocean was unending, but then, so was the loneliness.

It had been a while since someone and tried to take what wasn't their's. My treasure had been safe for generations at this point. It had been so long, I thought the last person to know of my existence had finally died. I shouldn't have been so hopeful though, humans are too tenacious. They think they can just come aboard my ship, and hurt my charges. Maybe this can be the last time I have to defend. Maybe I can leave them with a lesson so harsh, no one else comes looking for me and mine. Maybe I could even keep a few of them for myself.

The wind I had been using to propel myself forward, ceased. I watched, flitting between portholes, flickering behind rigging, swarming the sails, as a boat drew closer. It teemed with people. They so badly wish to join my collection. I fingered my pearls, body clacking whenever I moved. The strings dangled across the ground, creating an eerie symphony.

Orders were shouted across the deck of the nearing ship. One voice stuck out from the rest. A young man with black hair stood at the helm, calling orders. A wild grin was on his face. Despite the distance I could see every detail. This young man looked as if he had found the thing he had been searching his entire life for. The way that emotion lit up his face was almost enough to make me blush.

This young man wanted me this badly? No one had come to purposefully seek me out in so long. Where maybe my heart was at one point, fluttered with emotion. Maybe this one. Maybe I could keep this one.

The boat was now close enough for them to clearly see my deck. Silence reigned as they all stared. Activity exploded, the Captain bursting forward. He stared at The Shadow, my ship, eyes sparkling and wide, his mouth hung open and everything. Tears sparked in the corners of his eyes, and he scrubbed them away quickly.

"This is it boys!" The Captain called, grabbing a rope and swinging over to me. His feet thunked on the wood, the first step made on this ship since…

Thunder filled the air as every boot landed on the deck. I flinched, hiding beneath the deck and staring up at them from between the floorboards. It had been so long since the souls around me were in a body. I fingered my string of pearls, the sound of the clattering drawing the attention of several of the sailors. They crossed themselves, glancing around nervously. I had to stifle a giggle. They had sealed their fate by coming after my charges, no amount of prayer could save them now.

My attention moved to the Captain, appearing in his shadow, watching him.

"At last… I've heard more stories about this magnificent beast than I can remember. The captaincy is within my grasp. It's right here." He murmured to himself, inspecting different areas of The Shadow. He opened doors, peaking in at empty rooms, followed closely by a few members of the crew. One of them had a knife in his hand, unsheathed, like he was going to kill the captain.

I frowned at the idea. That wouldn't be ideal. I could speak to a soul I had collected sure, but it was much easier if they had a body to move with. I tossed my head in exasperation, holding back a giggle as more of the vile sailors crossed themselves at the rattling clack that accompanied my every motion.

Pearls dripped down my body, strung across like a tight net. Each pearl was a soul I had collected on the seven seas. I kept them safe from those who might wish them harm. Here, with me, they could sail until time expired, feeling nothing but joy at the freedom bestowed to them. Being able to wander the earth, one with the oceans they had so loved? What more could a sailor want? They felt no hunger, no thirst, nor heat nor cold. I would take them around the world, even beneath the waves sometimes, to see magnificent wrecks.

I hadn't caused all of them.

The captain was stroking the wood of the bannister he leaned against. His thumb was gentle.

"I can't believe it. The Shadow is real, and looks as beautiful as if she had just come off the lot." He grinned, head tilting back to expose his neck. His eyes closed, and he sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't need anything else. I can die happy now, just having found The Shadow." He pulled away from the wood, hands going into his pockets.

"Captain! We've searched most of the hold already, it's just full of moldy rocks and bad water!" One of the sailors stomped up to the Captain, a scowl on his face.

The Captain raised an eyebrow, looking the slightly shorter man up and down. "And? We've definitely found the right ship. What do I care about treasure? You'll still get paid what I promised." The Captain waved away the sailor, running his hands over another section of railing. He was approaching the helm, staring at it like it could answer every question he had ever had.

I wasn't sure how to react to him not caring about the treasure though. No one who sought out my ship knew that I was guarding it. Everyone wanted to find and take the treasure for themselves. The crew didn't seem to like that the captain didn't care about the treasure.

My mind whirled with possibilities as the crew began to tear through the ship, trying to find me. This Captain might really be someone worth keeping around. At least for a little while. I could always collect him after I finished with the crew. It would be nice to have a soul here independent of me. Then I would know his decisions were his own. Not to mention, I can't just let him leave after finding me, and I don’t think his crew will let him leave either. I grinned at the idea that these sailors were now all mine.

The Captain touched the helm, awe on his face.

I plunged into the woodwork of the ship, stretching my senses out through every piece of rigging. Snapping out, I grabbed every throat, wringing them like so much laundry. The crew were dead before a sound could be uttered. Another string of pearls clacked into being, wrapped around my body.

The captain was staring at me, his eyes a startling blue. I hadn't seen a person with such blue eyes before. They were almost as beautifully blue as the ocean in all her moods. They would be perfect to add to my collection of the most precious objects I could find.

In a flash, I revealed myself, watching as the Captain's beautiful eyes widened, showing even more shades of blue within their depths. There was nothing for it, I was utterly besotted. I had to have them. My hand reached out, cupping his face. The man was taller than me, but it didn't mean much when my feet didn't have to touch the floor.

"You–! You're not tangled in rigging! You're the treasure!" The Captain gasped, one hand covering his mouth, while the other carefully reached forward. It was if I hadn't just killed his entire crew before his eyes.

My own hands reached out, I cupped his face, feeling the strong jawline beneath my palms. It was so strange to be touching living flesh. The Shadow had already absorbed the bodies and nutrients of the men, their bodies no longer hanging from the rigging. I hadn't touched skin in so long…

The Captain began to scream, reaching up to try and shove me away. His eyes were so pretty, they would look better as the centerpiece for my favorite necklace. The pearls on that necklace had long gone dormant, but the souls inside had been important. Probably. How long since they last spoke to me? I pushed the thought away, wiping my hand across the empty sockets of my new Captain.

The wounds healed, and the man stopped screaming, his hands slowly lowering.

"Much better. Ahhhh, these are so pretty!" I exclaimed, wanting him to know I hadn't just thrown them out. "It's been so long since someone sought me out. Even longer since I had a Captain… it seems like that was what you were hoping for?" I asked, floating around my Captain, giggling as he spun around to my clacking.

"I…" He wet his bottom lip, head tilting this way and that, probably trying to follow me. "I've dreamt about being the captain of this ship for as long as I can remember." He was even telling the truth, rare that. The emotions bleeding from him were a desperate yearning I hadn't felt in ages. Usually I would only feel them from the terrified sailors that would flee before my storm.

My grin stretched too wide, but that was okay. He couldn't see it anyway. I looped my arms around his shoulders, pressing my flat chest to his own. The sound of the pearls rang across the ship.

"Welcome then, my Captain. Where are we going?" I asked, eager to find the first place I hadn't decided on.

Captain looked like I had dangled something precious in front of his face, only to snatch it away again. He scowled, trying to shove me off. I just clung tighter, phasing through his scrabbling hands so I didn't go anywhere. My grin turned to a bit of a snarl.

"You wanted to be my Captain, didn't you? Did you think there would be no price to pay? Now tell me. Where are we going?" I nuzzled into my Captain's throat, not wanting to scare him too much. It had been millennia since I had been human myself (was I ever actually human? Or did I imagine that?), so I would have to be patient with my Captain. Maybe I wasn't speaking his language?

Captain choked on air, but had stopped trying to push me away. His heart rate had spiked, rushing faster through his body as I stayed snuggled up to him.

This was going to be the start of a beautiful partnership.

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lafoget · 1 year ago

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the main difference between dick and tim is that dick believes in bruce as the man who took him in and passed on his moral beliefs and values to him, while tim believes in batman as a concept and idea

#dick: bruce raised me! he's a good man but wearing the cowl is like a burden that broke him!#if i become batman then the curse will pass to me too :\#meanwhile tim: batman is the great protector of gotham but bruce is only human #and when he's broken. he turns batman into something dirty and bad #all we can do for him is delay the inevitable moment when he goes down #(only dick and cass are able to wear the mantle because they're perfect🥰🥰🥰)#also i'm broken too ;) and jason. and jean-paul. and *snorts* damian #dick grayson #tim drake #dick & tim #bruce wayne

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hanasnx · 1 year ago

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a call to you.

WC: 0.2k SUMMARY: the great protector has bonded with you. NOTES: i havent seen the movie. only the thirty minutes that tgp is in fucking shit up WARNINGS: m!dragon x gn!reader | mentioned: mate | no y/n

THE GREAT PROTECTOR has resided at the bottom of Ta Lo Lake for centuries. Entire civilizations have risen and collapsed while he sleeps within the icy depths. In the indigo darkness, he had heard a voice, as clear as if it were next to his ear, and he opened his great eyes. The first time he emerged from his cradle in lifetimes and he did it to follow your sound.

After he’d tracked you down, he brought you to a nearby cave where he’d built a nest for you. His claws having enclosed around you so gently as he carried you to your new home. Your protests and questions went unanswered for he cannot speak your language. The time you’d spend together aids in understanding him. You learn to crave his presence.

You’re no prisoner, you often walk to Ta Lo. It teems with bustling life, unlike your cave, so you socialize there. Everyone has noticed how quiet you’ve gotten, because you’re used to inhabiting a space where no words are needed.

On a rare occasion you’re visited, a friend timidly approaches the cave’s mouth. To soften its intimidation, you meet her, and beckon her inside. You prepare tea, and pour a drink for the Protector out of respect. It’s ceremonial, the way you draw near to him, kneel down to sit on your legs, and place the delicate cup onto the ground near his cheek. He won’t drink it, but you know he appreciates it. Steam rises from its hatch, and he eyes you gratefully.

You return to your friend, who catches you up on the events of her day. At one point, she advances on you with the intent to touch you. It’s a comfortable gesture, a hand reaching for your arm, but you have a preference of space, recoiling out of habit. The rebuke within you stirs the other resident of this cave. He rears his great head, pupils thinning as they set sights on her. She recedes in fear, and billow of angry fog expels from his nose, grating growls echoing off the stone walls. To calm him, you signal a wave to him, convey to him there is no danger. Your emotions are controlled, your friend meant you no harm.

“What was that?” your dear companion asks, bewildered and fit to gather her things to retreat in fright.

You offer her a kind smile as the Protector bows his chin to the floor behind you. Unfortunately, your explanation raises more questions than it answers, “Oh, he’s very sensitive. He thinks I’m his mate.”

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witchofthesouls · 9 months ago

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Tbh Star Saber’s reaction is justified. Sentinel just claims this random bot as a bride (probably doesn’t even know their name too) I’d be miffed too if I was his protector. But what about said bot’s reaction? You wake up after passing out and suddenly your hitched, I’d be backing up Star Saber in the background as he yells at Sentinel.

(You're going to be busy trying to deal with alien biology to start yelling. If anything you're yelling at whatever drop-kicked you into this timeline that's the dumpster fire that makes up Bayverse.

Get ready for misunderstandings and failed negotiations:)

Consciousness doesn't gently trickle back. It kicks you in the teeth without any warning. One moment, darkness. The next moment, you're heaving up and accidentally slamming into something hard.

That something yelps.

While you have the grace of facial protection, Sentinel isn't as lucky. You still have a throbbing headache, though. It flares whenever there's the incomprehensible electronic noise of their native tongue is being spoken.

Your head pulses to an excruciating degree when suddenly it clicks. The noise becomes words.

And you don't like them.

"Look, it can't even speak. Let alone understand us." Star Saber - your HUD factually pings, rapidly scrolling all of his positions, achievements, strengths, and possible weaknesses - says like an absolute cunt.

"Oooooo. Cooon-tuh." The High Lord Protector sounds out the English your ass of a mouth that not even a supercomputer brain could leash have shot out. The Seeker is unamused, and you don't even resist the urge to stick your tongue out since you're wearing the visor and he can't see.

You have a vague sense that you're forgetting something important. The wisps of a strange dream linger in the periphery edges of your mind, but a hiccuping wail interrupts everything.

Nearby and attached to the berth (fanon terminology don't fail you now!) are the infants. You immediately pick up the crying one. The tiny face warps from the force of their distress. Something compels you to cradle it up to your chest, and they settle down to snuffly whistles.

Of course, the other one starts up when your hands are full.

Sentinel picks the second infant to maneuver them to you. You never expected this asshole to have gentle hands, but he does. At least for the babies.

"They're split-spark." He explains as both of them grab a hold of each other, whistling and chirping between a songbird and a hot kettle. "They have to remain close together until they're third in-star."

There's a moment of silence in the room, only interrupted by the newsparks' chirping babbling and fretful meeping.

"Not to be rude," you slowly test out the digital language, and Star Saber doesn't snort or move his expression, but he definitely disproves. Fucker. "But why am I here?"

"Yes, Prime," the Seeker knows how to turn a soft voice into an assassin's thread. "Why do we have such a guest here?"

The words he chose have so many insulting undertones and stresses that if you didn't have your arms full, you might as well slap him. High Lord Protector be damned.

He wants you far away, and you want to be farther than Star Saber could dream of.

Of course, neither you nor Star Saber gets those desires granted.

"You're here," Sentinel’s tone shifts. Formal. Very formal. A strange mix of anticipation and... duty? "In the privacy of my household and in the presence of my most trusted-" Star Saber's expression is set in stone and just as cold "-to declare our sparks together in front of Primus."

Unlike fanfics where Sam Witwicky has the Allspark to handily act as a translator, you only have the equivalent of a more sensible Google translate with all of the additional kinda-helpul-but-not-really dings of subharmonics and underlying glyphs to provide more context. It sounds like a marriage proposal, but the way Sentinel emphasized it is more akin to a 'Guardian seek out an equal partnership in a (business) venture.'

Thanks, Google. Great help as always. Never change.

Unless you've taken over the body of a noble with capital to buy out galaxies or some sort of daring pirate/elite assassin with that ghostly possession of hidden skills, you have no idea why he's asking you for this kind of proposition.

You need to bite the bullet because you don't know what you're walking into, and maybe you can jump out another window and speed away.

You start searching the lexicon for the right words. Hopefully.

_____________

Even with the visor eclipsing your face, you're refreshingly honest and it's something Sentinel profoundly misses ever since he's been taken from the Guiding Hand's Towers.

And right now, they know your possible intention to jump again beneath the tangle of confusion and worry.

The windows here are reinforced and capable of withstanding artillery blasts and extreme heat resistance as well.

:: The foundlings are completely attached to this one. :: Hard and unforgiving Star Saber may be, but there are a few things that soften the mech. It may be the Seekerkin-coding in him that invokes protective feelings towards the very young.

You and the newsparks have sealed a guardian/parental bond. They can't separate them from you. The strain will most likely kill them, and possibly you with your recent recklessness. You may have a powerfully dense spark -a hallmark of mecha with Primal heritage- but you're still young, barely past the ninth in-star, and still developing towards an adult frame.

Ratchet had been torn between absolute fury and begrudgingly impressed by the one that had done your frame-schematics. It's a remarkable mix of stealth modifications, hidden components, and security. Your systems had literally chewed up suppression codes and medical overrides and spat them out.

Either you have a creator that's a fiend of a weaponsmith or you have ties to the legendary War-Forged, too. Unbelievable, but no one expected any frames out in the Wastelands to be blessed by Primus, and yet here they are with not one, but two individuals.

And Sentinel is asking the mechling for a formal courtship with the intention of bonding.

"Are you-" you speak carefully, testing out the glyphs, and he wonders what kind of dialect the Wilders speak "-asking me to bond with you?"

The phrase makes logical sense. However, Sentinel can't help but choke at the subglyphs you used. Instead of 'unity of wedlock between two parties,' you attached something akin to sponsoring a courtesan for an exclusive relationship. An explicitly sexual one.

Star Saber doesn't budge. The Seeker's body langauge is impeccable and beyond reproach to stand as a witness to this mess, but Sentinel feels the icy talons of their shared bond flare to a vicious burning grip.

:: If you say any sort of agreement to that poorly worded question, Sentinel Prime. :: Star Saber's terrible words cut into Sentinel's spark. :: I will personally make the rest of your limited time on this planet a new level of Unicron's Pits. ::

Sentinel had to lock his joints to keep himself upright and not sprawled on the floor. After a long moment, he manages to grapple with the bond to sear away Star Saber's influence. :: I wasn't! ::

Slag all those that deify their partnership as the original split-sparks Prima and Megatronus, it's a slaggen mockery of a marital bond.

Sentinel gathers every scrap of his intentions to make it work with the newly found Primal-descended and throws it at Star Saber's end. It's still a raw wound. He finds it deeply discomforting to be intimately tied to the Seeker upon the confirmed demise of an unmoored Zeta Prime. Just barely after the Temple's blessings to establish suitable compatibility as a Prime and a new Protector.

(If Sentinel thinks too much about it, he will scream until he burns out and -)

Star Saber quirks a plate at his efforts and releases the onslaught. :: Look at that. Perhaps there's a warrior underneath that softness, librarian. Correct your Intended before the Wilder escapes with the newsparks. ::

During their internal spat, you pressed your back against the wall, plating closed to minimize noise. You've silenced your biosignature as well. Even the foundlings are silent -a natural defense that's driven by terror of the sudden tensions and your own reaction.

Fan-fragging-tastic.

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