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neet-elite · 2 months

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Since you do not get as many requests as you deserve - here I am! Could we get a cozy Sebastian/Reader, where Sebastian comes home after a frustrating day (working on his bike pissed him off, his job pissed him off, his family pissed him off) and he sees the reader and he feels soothed because he loves her so much? OR IF YOU PREFER! Could you write one about Alex being frustrated because his workout didn't work out (see what i did there) and the reader helps him pick himself up? Maybe by letting him do different kinds of farm work, subtly showing him how strong he is? THANK YOU I LOVE YOUR WRITING YOURE A TALENTED STAR; KEEP IT UP

Oh no you sweet thing! I'm absolutely okay with the amount of requests I get, I never want anyone to feel forced or guilty about it!! Thank you for your kindness though <3 giving you KISSES right now!

And giving you double kisses for these sweet prompts omg... It's been a while since I've written just fluff so I adore these so much thank you thank you!! I really needed some feel good fluff tbh...

warnings: fluff, stressed out seb, family drama, venting, slight angst? not really wc: 1885

To say he was stressed would be the understatement of the year, accidentally slamming the front door of your quaint farm cabin shut (and subsequently frustrating himself more in the process) before stomping his way over to the living room couch, throwing his weary body against the worn cushions with a rasped huff of air like some sort of child. Weird, he reprimands himself internally. It's embarrassing to be acting out like this, to bring the metaphorical rain cloud over his head straight into your shared space, uncaring for how roughly he kicks his boots off to the floor, causing a loud THUMP to ring through the house. A signal of his dismay, some sort of flashing warning sign of: GO AWAY. Huffing and puffing in sheer aggravation, because he's exhausted; and he can't quite find the willpower to conceal his true feelings right now.

But despite his tantrum, you tiptoe out from your room, and he can still feel your presence despite your attempts at being quiet. Call it intuition, or perhaps it's just the fact that he's live here long enough to tell which floorboard sounds like which squeak. Still, he allows you the space to sneak up to him, only because he hasn't the strength to turn around himself after todays events.

"Rough day?" You question as if it wasn't obvious, plopping down beside him yet still keeping an arms length. He appreciates it, even if he can't find the words to say so right now. Deep down he understands a simple thank you would suffice, but even that feels like venom on his tongue, so he refrains for your benefit. You deserve better than to be on the end of his stress induced attacks.

So instead, he simply sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose before rubbing harshly at his temples, eyes squeezed shut to try and hone in one the pressure. You've always commented on the fact that he's too rough with himself, so he immediately softens his touch up when he starts to wince into the mean pad of his thumb, knowing that if you even try to remind him that he's liable to bark back; and he wants to do literally anything but that.

"Yeah," he sighs again, though more as a release of built up resentment now, as if that lonely word was enough to convey the myriad of emotions welling up inside his chest. "You could say that."

When his eyes open again and he cranes his neck to the side to properly regard you in conversation, he can't help the barely there smile from tugging at his lips, followed by a brief rushed exhale through his nose. How sweet you are, taking time out of your surely busy day yourself to tend to him and his bruised mental state, pretty smile wide on your face for him to gawk at. He really should be more thankful than he currently is, but his body remembers all too clearly the anger in his fists, muscles flexing and fists clenching idly by his side. If anything, simply being around you is balm enough. A comforting sunny salve that he's mindful not to take for granted, especially in these small moments. As such, his hand instinctively seeks your own, stretching over the remainder of the space left between two bodies to seek solace, forcing himself to unfurl his fingers in favour of wrapping around your own.

"Missed that face today, y'know." He smiles more genuinely now, tone softening under your gentle embrace, the loose pinky around his own reminding him of the good in the world.

And you smile back, of course. The stress slipping from his shoulders the longer you look at him, the tighter you hold his hand.

"Can I help at all?" You question, and he stares dumbly at you for a few seconds before registering your kind offer; too focused on the many upsets today had him endure, he looks to the side to make sure his mean attitude isn't directed at you.

"Maybe?" He whispers after a few seconds of genuine thought; because even he isn't even sure if his sour mood can be enhanced at this point. "It's just— Well, you know how things can get at home."

You nod, but don't speak. He fills the space with his own grievances instead.

"Fuck— I mean, I don't uh... Dunno how it got as bad as it did, y'know? Like— Um, is it okay for me to talk about it?"

"Course, Seb."

He swallow thickly, letting out a nervous laugh at the thought of being vulnerable, but you've taught him safety in that regard. "R-Right. Uh, it started with my bike. Shit's broke broke, right? And so that's my plans for the day ruined," Instinctively he lets go of your hand, repositioning on the couch to get more comfortable to ramble, leaning forward a little as if the objects of his frustrations were right in front of him, listening to his telling off. That made him feel a little better, too. "So I thought hey, might as well hang out with the family, seeing as the stupid bike doesn't wanna fucking work," A laugh escapes him, but even he winces from how forced it sounds. His mouth runs faster than his mind, fists balling against his lap as he recalls the days events. All of these emotions could have been avoided if he'd just stayed home like you'd suggested in the morning, but he was determined to do something outside his comfort zone, and so of course everything went to shit, because he's never allowed to stray too far from comfort or some other bullshit excuse his mind can conjure to somehow make sense of today. Fuck, he feels more riled up now...

"But even that didn't work, because I immediately had to fix mom's phone— which by the way, was so stupid oh my God I dunno how she managed to fuck it up the way she did— but apparently I had to have an audience, and Demetrius would not— Uh, wouldn't shut up for just a second, babe. All I asked for was a single second, and that was apparently too much—"

"Mhm." You respond, still smiling, and the nonchalant way you so easily distract him almost dazes him for a second. The way you're intently listening to his clearly one sided review of the situation, giving him time to collect his unpleasant thoughts; your presence alone causes his cheeks to heat up, prompting him to cut himself off in a bashful attempt of hiding.

"I mean— I dunno, y'know?" He cringes at himself with the useless conversation he's offering, but the feeling of your weight pressing closer to his own instantly relaxes him. What did he say? A balm. He sighs once more. "It's just been a bad day, and I'm sorry for bringing it home..."

You shush him gently, soft hushes barely audible over his own blood pumping through his veins with the anger he remembers, but he does his best to untense, just like you're asking. "Sounds like you might need a distraction." You prompt him, and he slowly reclines back on the couch, placing an open palm against your thigh to calm himself down a little faster; doesn't wanna worry you too much.

"Yeah, you're probably right." He smiles, embarrassed but still thankful for your acceptance. "Always are, really."

He laughs upon hearing your own docile giggle, warming up to the idea of relaxation now that he's had a chance to explain himself without judgement; you're always so good at doing that, and he makes a mental note to thank you better when he's more capable of treating you the way you deserve. With utmost kindness.

However, he's learnt to be open to your own kindness, to welcome it with open arms even if it's difficult in the moment. "How about... A massage?" You question, and he thinks for a moment.

"Mm... No, but thank you."

"Then... Do you need some food?"

Honestly, probably. But the idea of eating right now has his tummy turning so he respectfully declines.

"Wanna play a game then? I saw this cool new co-op game that we could chill and play together, or—"

"Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt..." He holds his hands up in submission, but your gentle smile begs him to continue. "It's just, I know what I want now."

"Anything."

Ah, fuck. He loves you, y'know? Completely and utterly, sometimes devastatingly so; like right now. Almost pained to speak, because he thinks he'll never be able to reciprocate exactly how you make him feel, and he wants more than anything right now to bury himself against you to at least try and thank you for... Well, existing, he supposes. And for the way that you're trying so desperately to cheer him up, giving up some of your free time for his own benefit, because you're perfect like that.

But he wants something smaller, he thinks. After catching his breath as a winding result from your unashamed devotion, he says plainly: "A hug."

And the giggle you let out communicates: Is that all? but rather than shame, or God forbid guilt, rising to his chest, he feels recognition. Shown in the way you immediately move into position, waiting for him to lazily lay on his back with his legs spread open, his head pressing against the armrest of the couch and awaiting the weight of your love upon his chest.

Which you do so eagerly, falling on top of him and forcing an oof! out of him, but he can't stop the laugh escaping in response to your affections. Automatically, his arms wrap around the small of your back, loosely at first, but the feeling of your own arms locking around his neck causes them to tighten, and he's not sure if it's in reassurance or possession.

Because he never wants to give you up, holding on to you as if you would disappear the moment he let go, attempting to deliver the message of I love you through tender touch and heavenly sighs. This is all he needs to feel better, really. The pressure of your body against his own, knowing that his feelings are reciprocated from how easily you slip between his legs, like a routine. The domesticity of the display snaking around his heart, chest tight with adoration for you.

"My love. Mine all mine." His arms squeeze around you tighter, pulling you closer to his heart, hopeful that you can feel how hard it beats for you; how it seeks to match your own tempo. "Thank you." Finally spills from his lips, managing to confess those simple words to you under your gentle embrace, his eyes shut in comfort of your presence.

Maybe later he can take you up on your offer of gaming, maybe even cheekily ask for some of that food now that he's feeling a little better. But at least for now, the world can pause while he hugs the love of his life. His balm, fingers tangled in your hair gently as a distraction from the overwhelming peace you have him endure.

He'd give you the sun if you asked, if only you'd calm his bad days like this for eternity.

#❤️‍🔥request #sdv fluff #sdv sebastian fluff #i love you MWAH #YEAH THATS A MITSKI REFERENCE #i listened to it when writing ok

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witheringwidgetwrites · 6 months

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Ok sorry for the confusing ask, I think I got it this time, (it’s different just in case)

obey me with short trans masc reader?

The brothers with some fluffy comfort and anxiety about telling them

Okay! So these are kinda hard to do like, "reactions" for, so I went w some general HCs! Hope that's cool! These are mostly Pre-transition as well! Levi genderfluid Hc ftw too.

These are fairly short, if you would like a more in-depth scenario, let me know, I would love to write one!

When you tell Lucifer, he doesn't give much of a reaction. You assume he doesn't care, maybe worse, he's judging you a little. He approaches you later to make sure it's okay he mentions it to his brothers. You're a little shocked but you give the okay, you see in his private text chat a message he had sent. 'MC is a boy. You will prefer to them as such from now on.' As your relationship grows closer, you small efforts from him. Your dead name is crossed out on old paperwork, and anything new always has your real name on it. When you grow even closer, you confess how nervous you were to tell him, he chuckles at you, smiling before grasping your hand, "my love, I adore you no matter what."

When you tell Mammon, he has a couple questions. He's a little confused, and kind of invasive, but he's got the spirit! "So I call you a boy right. Like, he should give me some of his money." You chuckle and nod. He messes up a few times at first but it's swift and you don't have to correct him, he does it himself. He doesn't make a huge deal out of it, but he makes a face when he catches himself. When you get together, he will loudly introduce you as his boyfriend. You're his pride and joy. Months later, you casually mention how nervous you were to tell him, and he makes a faux offended look, "I'm yer best man! How could ya be nervous to tell me anything? I like ya no matter what."

Telling Leviathan is a little nerve wracking. You're sitting down, playing games for a hours until you've worked up the nerves to say anything. "Can I tell you something Levi?" "Sure! What's up?" He instantly thinks you hate him. You tell him what's up, and a blush fills his cheeks. "Can I tell you something too?" You nod, smiling at him. "I think I'm genderfluid." With that, you both grow closer quickly. He's very accepting, you don't have to tell him much because he's already done all his own research, and had a few trans friends. Later in your relationship, you casually mention how nervous you were to come out to him, he hesitantly grabs your hand with both of his, and kisses it softly, "I like you for you, MC. Don't forget that, okay?" He averts his gaze, blush rushing to his cheeks.

Telling Satan is a little more anxiety inducing than you would have thought. But you had grown quite close, and it almost felt like lying to not tell him sooner. He puts his book down for you as you explain. He nods, asks, if that's all, and smiles at you. "Nothing could change how I feel about you MC." He's quick to change with no issues. You mention months later how nervous you had been, and he frowns a little, "I'm disappointed I made you so nervous, but I'm glad to have you now, as you are."

When you tell Asmodeus, he isn't suprised. "I had a feeling." He'd smile and say. He hugs you, asks if you need anything, or how he can support you. He has many questions. Some about the name, how you chose it, just personal but not super invasive questions, mostly friendly. It turns into a long talk about what your gender means for you, and what he can do to be supportive. After you both got together, months later you mention how you had been anxious to mention anything, and a soft smile graces his soft features. "MC, I love you to the moon and back, for who you are."

Beelzebub is a little nervous when you sit down with him while you're baking together. "Is everything okay, MC?" You explain things to him, voice quiet. Once you're done, a small smile crosses his face. "That's it?" You nod, he chuckles a little, "you had me nervous!" He pats you on the back, before asking if he can hug you. After a few months, you had both gotten together, and you had mentioned how anxious you were to bring it up to him. "Why would you be? Did I give you a reason to be nervous?" He seems troubled for a moment before you explain, and a smile graces his face before he grabs your hand. "I love you for you, MC. Exactly who you are."

Things have always been a little rocky with Belphegor. Because of the incident. But as you grow closer, you eventually tell him the news. He nods, "oh okay." He has no questions, he knows a little about it from Lilith, but that's about it. He is fairly quick to pull you back into his chest and lull you both to sleep. A couple months go by, you've started your relationship, and the topic comes up again. He asks a couple of questions, such as how you picked your name. You casually mention how nervous you had been when you told him, "really? I guess I'm not suprised, I am a little scary." He turns over in his spot to face you, "I love you for who you decide you are."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #beelzebub x reader #Belphegor x reader

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pttwice · 6 months

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n!d twice hc (1/3 najeongmo)

to the anon who requested a nd!twice hc, i have tried my best! if there's anything else you would want to see or something else like this just send a request my way and i'll try my best :)

nd!nayeon

much like sana, nayeon has adhd. unlike sana, she has inattentive adhd so it makes her very distractable and she constantly loses things

the members are always finding her glasses everywhere but her face and jeongyeon eventually buys her those little grippy things so she can wear her glasses around her neck when she's at her and momo's apartment or the dorm

she also takes a little longer to understand things. if she's talking to one of the members they know to be patient if she doesn't respond right away

nayeon also notices super small details; she's always listening and attentive to the girls even if she doesn't realize it

she is attached to her calendar. if someone makes plans with her verbally but doesn't text her or put it in her calendar, she will forget.

if she's having a particularly hard day, she needs to be with someone (preferably momo because she cooks all her favorite foods) and needs to be held and fed because she will forget that she needs to eat and drink water

nd!jeongyeon (1)

jeongyeon has had depression and social anxiety for a very long time

she has a really hard time being in front of cameras by herself and if she's with her members, she tries to be as goofy as she can be to try and distract her brain from overthinking everything

if she's having a really bad day, the main person who knows how to take care of her is mina. she and mina are very alike in the sense that when they don't feel good, they just want to be alone for a little while in front of the tv and in bed

sometimes practice can be very anxiety inducing since it's tied with good memories as well as really bad memories. if it's a harder day, one of the members will practice in another room with her so there's not as much pressure to get everything right

on the road she has to have headphones and music at all times, especially when they're going through the airports. usually dahyun or sana are distracting her by doing something silly until they get to their gate

in public someone is usually holding her hand or just touching her shoulder to ground her and let her know that she's okay and she's safe

nd!momo (1, 2, 3)

although people usually just see clumsiness, momo has dyspraxia; this means that she's got a lot of problems with coordination

although she is the dancing mochine, there are days when even tying her shoes can be hard and one of the members has to do the fine motor skills for her (not that they mind at all)

momo's usually tired because it takes a lot of energy making sure she's not bumping into everything and remembering how to write and eat with chopsticks

sana and mina are especially patient with momo and are there to wait on her when she's having a really bad day. they're always helping her zip up her jackets and guiding her through dance steps they've all done a hundred times

momo really doesn't like speaking in public and it can be due to slight verbal issues. this is why it sometimes takes her a little longer to say something or she messes up words in japanese

any time momo is having a hard day, the members are there to cheer her up and laugh with her if she trips over something or messes up during practice; they want to make sure she knows it's okay

#nd!twice hc #joon writes hcs 🦖

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balloonboyismyson · 5 months

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Sometimes

When bodyguard!Monty goes into his recharge pod

He can still hear them knocking on his metal frame

OKAY SO this inspired me to write a little so I hope you like it :o))

There was knocking at the door (900+ words) CW: Anxiety-Inducing, mentions of death, mental trauma

It was night once again, and the blue illumination of the single charging station was the only thing that kept the room from being engulfed by the ever-expanding void of darkness he hadn’t dared touch. It had been 6 months since his failure. When They hadn’t heard back from Y/N after the mission, They came to the restaurant themselves.

He had just been sitting there, it wasn’t like he could do much else. Had he been a human he’d have wretched, sobbed, anything to get his despair out, but his manufacturers didn’t account for needing to. They never saw him as anything but a robot, unlike you.

A part of him hated you, hated you for making him fall so madly in love with you. When They saw what happened, They dragged him to the van and brought him back to headquarters to clean him up. They hadn’t even had the decency to turn him off first.

It was the next day where things got worse. Once he finally regained control of himself, his mind was what went next. By the time he was out of the facility, the morning staff would all need to be replaced, and his only regret was making their ends faster than yours.

He knew exactly where your apartment was. He had originally cemented it in his mind to know how to get his assignment back to the Protected Zone as They called it. As he opened the door, the thick warm air encapsulated him.

When you were first introduced, you had asked him if he preferred the air warmer or cooler. You had used your breath to ask him his thoughts. At first he thought it was a stupid question- humans die depending on the temperature, he was a robot, he couldn’t care less. But you saw the way he would linger in the bathroom when you were done with a shower or the kitchen while a big meal was made.

His eyes moved to your bedroom. He entered almost in a panic, moving towards the bed you so lovingly made before last night’s shift. He picked up your pyjama top and stared at it a moment. The fabric scrunched in his hands as he made his way back into the main room and sat in the corner to the right of the door. He held that shirt for dear life.

They had come in the apartment multiple times, trying everything They could to get him out. They wanted to assign him to someone else, or maybe decommission him altogether. He wouldn’t mind the second option, but then who would remember you? That was a reason why you were chosen for this role, afterall. He would attack anyone who came near him, so eventually, They just took the loss and let him stay there.

He always kept the lights on. After that night, he was terrified of the dark. He couldn’t see very well in that backroom, but he could smell, he could hear, and he could feel. He was petrified if the lights went out, he’d be thrown right back into that night.

As the weeks progressed, the bulbs, one by one went out. Each time a bulb flickered, he’d move to a different spot in the room. Just as they forewarned, that bulb would die, just like you.

Every couple of weeks a new bulb would go out. By the time the final bulb flickered, he found himself pressed against the only other thing keeping him alive- that damn recharge station. He was pissed it was there, mocking him. In him was a timer of sorts. When he got too low on power, he had to get up and charge, he had no choice. If it weren’t for its glow, he’d have probably destroyed it.

His timer was up, and he needed to charge. He weakly stood up, his joints creaking loudly with every movement. The door opened for him, and he stepped in. The hum was too loud for his liking, and the tube was barely large enough to fit him. He could see through the window the darkness he so intensely despised.

For some reason tonight, he almost felt… allured. He could just barely see the outline of the couch, and he felt himself looking for something. The once faint hum got louder as he inched towards the glass. He felt tense. The same intensity he got when there was an intruder.

He heard knocking and scanned the room, trying to find anything amiss. Was there someone at the door? He needed to leave but he couldn’t mid-charge.

He put his hands on the door and searched desperately through the darkness, and he swore he saw movement. The hum was blaring and the knocking was hard and fast, every part of his body told him there was someone in the house.

He used his claws to try to pry the door open, but nothing happened. Were those footsteps? He hadn’t heard a crash but his body felt red hot.

Was this what fear was? His eyes darted in the darkness, the hum becoming ear-piercing as he clawed at the door to get out. The knocking turned to pounding. His artificial breath steamed the once clear glass as his fans tried desperately to cool him down.

He suddenly stopped and his eyes glazed as he peered forwards.

There wasn’t knocking at the door.

#Clownie honks #asks #//I do not read much/watch many things so I am unsure what labels mean what I am sorry ;o;#Monty Gator x Reader #Bodyguard!AU #death #writing #Monty Gator Security Breach

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

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how about a yandere tweek with a just as anxious/paranoid darling? preferably GN!!!

Okay, sure! I'm an anxious person myself so I hope I do this justice ^^ Aged up as usual. I could've added more to this but I wanted to save some for my Tweek concept ;)

Unhinged Tweek is fun to write-

Yandere! Tweek Tweak with Anxious! Darling

Short Concept/Reaction

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Drug use, Obsession/Implied past yandere behavior, Violence, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Implied murder, Implied Tweek was arrested before, Isolation, Unhinged Tweek.

This could go a few ways.

You either both help each other due to understanding the anxiety between the both of you...

Or things are just worse.

Tweek is both relieved and nervous at the fact his darling is like him.

Your paranoia is most likely not due to meth coffee but he's happy you somewhat understand him.

Anxiety shows itself in many forms.

You can quietly deal with it and it's just a compressing discomfort around your stomach (me).

That or maybe your anxiety is exactly like Tweek, leaving you twitchy and jumpy with a constant state of worry.

It comes in many forms.

Either way you probably interacted with Tweek first by getting a coffee at his parent's coffee shop.

You just wanted a small coffee with not a lot of caffeine.

When asked why you say it may make your anxiety worse.

Tweek actually understands this and offers to prepare your coffee himself.

Just to make sure no anxiety inducing drugs are put into it.

Tweek off-handedly mentions he has anxiety too, to which you smile.

"Guess we have something in common...!"

Turns out you have more in common than you think.

You happened to go to the same school for high school, it's just that Tweek never noticed.

Tweek may try to talk to you more after your coffee interaction.

He's curious of you and at times he feels his anxiety lessens when around you.

He wants to know if you plan to go to college, favorite drink, what you did in high school, how do you cope with anxiety....

He can't believe he never knew you existed.

In his high school years he was so obsessed about Craig and being a part of Craig's gang that he never really saw you.

You also were too nervous to talk to anyone in your class.

Tweek and Craig didn't work out in the end and Tweek decided to continue working at the coffee shop after graduation.

He was too obsessive towards Craig which caused things to be broken off one way or another with a bit of violence.

Tweek wonders if he makes your anxiety better or worse....

He hopes talking with you makes things better as you make his better!

The most common place you meet up is in the coffee shop.

It's where Tweek feels safest and he always knows your order.

Tweek tries his best to be considerate of your anxiety when he hangs out around you.

It's not always the coffee shop you hang out at, sometimes it's at your house.

He's thought of swiping a few things from it.

Depending on how much of a bother your anxiety is Tweek can do a few things.

He can try to help you with it.

He can utilize it against you.

That or most likely a little of both.

Due to Tweek's past relationship with Craig he may be a bit manipulative and experienced in... well... being a yandere.

He does want to help you with your anxiety.

However he can be tricky with it.

For example, Tweek may get his hands on anxiety medication and slip the dosage into your drink (not coffee, another drink you like).

That way whenever he's around and gives you your favorite drink... you feel better.

Which may make you want to rely on him...

Which means you won't leave him.

What happened in his previous relationship will be a secret only he knows.

But it's certainly messed him up.

Tweek is hypocritical when using your anxiety against you.

Even if you're just friends, or potentially something more, Tweek's forcing you and him together.

Messing with medication is dangerous and could mess you up big time if he uses too much.

Then if you decide to try and distance yourself from Tweek (you were probably told of what he was convicted of or something else in his past) then he'll give you the medication in your cofee to make your anxiety worse.

That or simply give you a drink full of sleeping aid to take you away to his house.

Tweek doesn't mind if he has to keep you in his basement for a little bit.

Your anxiety should be better if you listen to him...

He refuses to lose you like he did Craig... what he's doing is necessary for the both of you, you have to understand that!

#yandere south park #yandere aged up south park #yandere tweek tweak

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sleptwithinthesun · 11 months

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y'all're way too nice. i genuinely forced out the last fic i posted and might just end up rewriting it later, but i'm trying to write the au chronologically so there aren't continuity errors, and that one needed to be finished before i could work on the next few.

anyway.

here's ~1.2K detailing the first time s/teve and n/ancy try inducing j/onathan :) hope you like it because THIS is where the fun starts

"Is this okay?"

Jonathan shrugs, his knees tucked up to his chest and parted slightly for Steve and Nancy to access his face. His back is against the headboard of their bed, and he's twisting his fingers together nervously. "I think so," he says, managing to prevent his voice from curling upward at the end and turning into a question.

Nancy smiles at him, and Steve reassures, "Don't be nervous, Jon. Whatever happens is fine. Don't feel pressured because of us."

He nods, but the anxiety building in his chest is too much for him to speak around. It's taken a while for him to come around to the idea of letting them induce him, despite how willing he initially was to put it on the table, and now, he might be regretting it.

"Hey," Nancy says, putting a hand on his knee. "Be honest, Jonathan. Do you not want to do this?"

Jonathan swallows. His throat is too dry. "I want to," he says. "I do."

"Are you sure?"

He nods. "Yes." His voice comes out a little steadier that time, and Nancy and Steve relax a bit.

"Alright," Steve says, picking up one of the pillows and examining it for a long moment before plucking out a feather. "We're going to start small, okay? Tell us if you're uncomfortable at any time, and we'll stop as soon as you say so. We've both done this before, so if anything gets to be too much, we know how to dial it back. Okay?"

"Okay," Jonathan whispers.

It's... kind of awkward. Likely because Jonathan feels awkward sitting there and letting Nancy slide a feather into his nostrils, but also, just because the situation itself is fairly unorthodox. He's never been into anything specific, in regard to sex, and has no experience with this particular kink.

"Does it tickle?" Nancy asks quietly, using her fingertips to slowly twist the feather around. She's hitting all the soft walls of his nostril, getting the barbs to brush right up against the mucus membranes.

Jonathan hums in affirmation, then pulls away a second later to bring his shirt up over his face and sneeze quietly, suppressing it the way he always does. "Sorry," he says the second he pulls his shirt down, and Steve only smirks at him.

"Don't apologize. That's kind of the point, though, it would be nice if you lost the shirt so that you couldn't hide your face," he says, and Jonathan flushes. "Stick to your boundaries, though."

He takes the feather from Nancy, inserting it into the other nostril and wiggling it around. They have different methods, he realizes; while Nancy prefers to take it slow, teasing him, Steve goes quickly, almost rushing, and it's a matter of about thirty seconds before Jonathan pulls away to sneeze again. "Oh," he says, blinking.

"What's going on?" Steve asks.

Jonathan sniffles. "That one felt, like, uh... more than the first one. Does that make sense?"

Nancy nods. "Yeah. Harsher?"

"I... think so."

"It looked like it, too," she comments. "You backed up more urgently."

And that is definitely not a normal thing to notice.

Something must show on his expression, because Nancy's eyes suddenly go wide. "Oh, shit. Was that too weird?"

"It's weird, but good-weird," he says. "Because it's you-weird, and Steve-weird, and I love both of you."

"You're so fucking sappy," Steve says, and kisses him. "Are you ready for more?"

"Yeah," he says, actually feeling confident this time. "Keep going."

"If you say so," Nancy sing-songs, then slides the feather back in. "This time, try not to sneeze for as long as you can, okay?"

Jonathan nods, wincing when the position of the feather changes. Nancy's careful to adjust it, spinning it slowly as the itch and irritation builds up slowly. He scrunches up his nose a couple times in an attempt to alleviate the feeling, and Steve laughs a bit.

"You look like a little bunny rabbit when you do that," he teases, and Jonathan bites his lip to keep from either talking back to Steve or sneezing.

He scrunches his nose up again.

Nancy giggles. "You're right," she says to Steve. "He does look like a bunny rabbit. Very cute, Jonathan, thank you for that."

Jonathan laughs a bit, then does his best to clamp down on the rising urge to sneeze, the feeling blossoming quickly in the very back of his sinuses and buzzing in his face. His breath hitches once, twice, before he takes back control of it, forcing himself to breathe steadily.

"You getting close to needing to sneeze, Jon?" she asks, pushing the feather in just a tiny bit further and twisting it again.

"Y-yeah," he mumbles, sniffling again.

"Keep it back," she demands, a second before she lefts the feather brush against the very back of his nose, right where he assumes the olfactory nerves must be, and he gasps before throwing a hurried string of four into his elbow. He manages to stifle all but the last one, and it slips out in a tiny "hgk'sh!"

"Bless you," Steve murmurs, his eyes practically glinting with lust. "That was good, Jon."

He ducks his head. "I still have to sneeze," he confesses.

"You need help?" Nancy asks, offering up the feather. She waits for Jonathan to nod shyly before tracing around the edges of his nose in a figure eight pattern, and Jonathan shakes his head slightly at the sudden irritation.

Nancy's face breaks into a grin at that, and she beckons Steve over. "Do the thing," she says, still working at him, and Jonathan is given no time to even wonder what that means before Steve's finger is tracing lightly down the bridge of his nose.

"Nancy, that reahh! Really tickles," he murmurs.

"It's supposed to," she teases, and finally moves the feather back into his nostrils, attacking the areas just below Steve's finger. Jonathan's breath stutters, but he doesn't sneeze, not yet. Nancy's being careful not to let him, and he feels tears of irritation prick at his eyelashes. He's not even allergic to feathers, and yet.

"You almost there, Jon?" Steve asks, and he nods, closing his eyes. "Alright, we'll wrap it up."

The feather suddenly twists, changing direction, and brushes up against something that's really sensitive, because he's sneezing down into his lap with absolutely no warning and no ability to stifle them. "hk'sHhu!"

"Bless you."

"ESH'uh!"

"Bless you." From Nancy, that time.

"h'esHh'uh!"

"Bless you."

"Nance, he's gonna—"

"hk'shh!"

"Bless you," Nancy emphasizes, running a hand through his hair. "Shit, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he replies, blinking shyly up at her and Steve. "Was, um... was that okay?"

Steve grins. "That was perfect, Jon."

He smiles back at them, a bit sheepish. "You want to do any more of that tonight, or wait?"

"If you're up to it, then I'd definitely want to do more," Nancy says, and Steve nods in agreement. "Jonathan?"

"I'm good," he says. "That was... good, I guess."

Nancy snorts and Steve laughs a bit. "Baby's first time," he teases, and Nancy only laughs harder. "Alright, Jon, round two."

He nods, and it begins.

#s/tranger t/hings snzfic #s/tranger t/hings #snzfic #s/teve h/arrington #j/onathan b/yers #n/ancy w/heeler #s/toncy #c/hicago au #swts fic

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kohakurin8 · 6 months

Text

~ Birthday Bunny ~

An innovative analysis for an innovative game

It's still Spooky Season! So of course, I'm still at it with the spooky games. And as suggested by @starwarspurgefan tonight I played the Horror RPG Maker game, Birthday Kid by @livisart !

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

This is an analysis of the overall game plot and contains spoilers beyond this point.

If you would like to experience the game for yourself before reading this analysis, please scroll to the end of the post for a link to where the game can be downloaded!

Holy. Crap.

I absolutely love this game!

In the ending bonus room livis admits that the game is their first ever finished RPG Maker game and honestly, I'm impressed. The story and overall structure is such a treasure -- simple yet deliciously complex at the same time.

Not only that, but it has a lot of little details and themes that remind me impeccably of another absolute favorite of mine, Omori by Omocat -- and considering Birthday Kid was released before Omori, I wouldn't be surprised if Omocat actually played this game and drew some inspiration from it!

So then, let's jump into it. What is Birthday Kid?

Well, to put it simply the game follows a bunny-person named Pepper who is continually reliving the day of their 12th birthday. The focus of the game is exploring Pepper's house as they try to remember something important, finding various clues in order to sort out trauma in the process.

To start with, I'd like to compliment the game mechanics because they are incredibly creative. They guide you through what you're supposed to do while still making it feel like you've solved some sort of puzzle, and the guidance is portrayed in a way that's very realistic to a sort of dream world or delusion.

The usage of blood marks and subtle key words to tell you where to go is spooky and satisfying, and a personal favorite mechanic out of anything I've seen so far.

Secondly, the designs of Pepper and Rascal may be simple, but they've completely captured my heart. I absolutely adore bunnies, and freckles, so Pepper had me excited to play the game before I even started.

And lastly, the story is beautiful and told with such nuance that one can both generally infer what happened, but still ponder the details with healthy curiosity.

But you know me. I can't just ponder this shit -- I have to write it!!

Alright, since it was written so nicely, there isn't much room for theories necessarily. But that's okay! Instead, allow me to explain the string of events and details as I perceived them while playing.

Pepper is officially classified as "a gender", although the dialogue suggests that they may have been born female but prefers to be agender and chose a name for themselves that isn't their birth name-- something which their peers bully them for relentlessly. On top of that, Pepper is a mute and only communicates through sign-language, which adds fuel to the discriminatory fire.

Considering the usage of the bunny theme, and the posters which read "Alice? Is there a god?" I speculate that Pepper's birth name may have been Alice.

And considering livis specifically stated that Pepper "prefers" not to speak, I theorize that they are not mute by birth but rather by some sort of trauma-induced muteness, or perhaps even non-verbal autism.

Regardless of the reasons why Pepper is how they are, even their own parents abuse them for being different. In fact, it bothers their parents so much that they have issues between each other over it.

But one birthday, Pepper was walking home when they found a talking rabbit -- the demon bunny Rascal. Rascal is severely injured, so Pepper decides to take him home and their mother convinces their father to allow them to keep it.

However, poor Pepper's home life soon deteriorates. At first, they seem fine so long as they have their friend Rascal. But the plot suggests that their Dad eventually murdered their mom and shoved her in the wardrobe of the master bedroom, then proceeded to neglect Pepper and abuse them verbally, even to the extent of not allowing them access to the fridge. Although, while sneaking into the fridge to get food for Rascal, Pepper notices a bottle of poison...

During one of these abusive episodes, Rascal actually attacks Pepper's Dad, and judging by some of the dialogue apparently pushes him into the hot stove, burning his hands. (Either that or he once burned Pepper's hands with the stove...) In a fit of rage, the Dad snaps poor Rascal's neck, and locks Pepper in their wardrobe.

Obviously distraught, Pepper uses the poison to kill their father, then summons a demon in an attempt to bring Rascal back. The demon makes a contract to do so with Pepper, offering to erase all of their painful memories in the process. Thinking this was a good idea at the time, Pepper accepts the offer, only to forget all about Rascal too!

This brings us to the start of the game -- Pepper reliving their twelfth birthday party. However, with the lack of memory everything about the part feels strange and fake, prompting Pepper to investigate. I believe that the act of repeatedly killing all of Pepper's party guests is symbolic of their strong feelings of hatred towards those who bullied them. A wrathful feeling that cannot be merely erased even with the help of a demon

All hope is not lost, however, since Pepper does eventually regain their memories. Upon remembering Rascal's name it's revealed that Rascal had been the demon all along, and using his name actually takes him! I'd like to think that in the end, the two were happy together.

And uh... That's it!

Once again, I really loved this game. Thank you so much for suggesting it, I've had a lot of fun with it. If you have anything you'd like to add, feel free to comment!

‼️ SKIPPING SPOILERS? STOP SCROLLING HERE ‼️

As promised, here is the link to where you can download this amazing game.

#birthdaykid #explained #rpg maker #horror games #theory #horror rpg #bunny #pepper (birthday kid)

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desireisqueer · 6 months

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hi!! i thought i'd write the ask for a change ^-^

how was the first day of the con?? hope you had fun!

i woke up today to discover i had slept for 12 hours lol. and i still didn’t feel well rested so that seems like a scam hahah. also threw me off because i had things i wanted to do and now didn’t get to do. hopefully i can balance it out tomorrow

should probably ask a question to keep up with tradition, hmmmm... okay, what random song reminds you of villanelle/oksana or villaneve? (random meaning it hasn't actually on the show ^-^ )

(asks really are quite anxiety-inducing, i totally understand why you prefer doing it via anon)

heyyyyy!! the first day was great!! i hot some new pins such as ”ask me my pronouns” and a ”i hate everyone equally” cause i thought it funny haha

i totally get that sleep thing, i personally can’t wake up late ever cause it brings me anxiety, and it makes me feel like i ”wasted” time sleeping :,))

and for the song, i’ll have to go with два вікна/dva vikna (two windows) by the hardkiss! the lyrics remind me of villaneve in general and when i looked into them more it reminded me of different scenes like the boat and the bridge</3

#desires archive #my asks #asks

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pizza-writes · 1 year

Text

Breathe

Wolffe and FemPadawan!Reader (Hey, friends. This one’s platonic)

Summary: On a vicious planet, y/n and some troopers have to escape the clutches of indigenous life forms. Things don’t go as planned.

Warnings (and I’m keeping them super vague to avoid spoilers): pretty non-descriptive injuries except for one or two, character getting descriptively + violently killed, literal suffocation, some mild horror elements, clone death, a beast/creature thing with temper issues

Notes: I know there’s a lot in the warnings but I promise it’s not all bad. There’s some cool stuff and happy moments. I prefer to write one shots where the characters have redemption or happiness at some point

Rating: 16+, this one got kinda violent

Word count: 4.1k

A thunderous crack drew your attention skyward. With years of training under your belt even you didn’t feel remotely prepared for this world. Nightmare-inducing darkness from the thick atmosphere blinded your entire unit. Worse yet, according to data collected from previous visits, the air could suffocate in minutes and leave poison in the blood for days. Yesterday’s briefing had informed you enough to know the situation would be dire, but having both feet on the desolate surface rattled you still.

Your eyes burned as they surveyed the clearing, lightsaber glowing at your side, casting a blue glow into the swimming fog. Wisps of cloud danced along the ground, making the surface alive and eerie. They slithered into the tree line and up dead branches that complained in the breeze.

You paused when the force warned you of something ahead. Or perhaps it was your nerves. You held your breath. Nothing moved. You looked back at the ten troops you were with. They awaited your instruction. Commander Wolffe tilted his head.

“Hang tight,” you muttered through the restraining mask.

“Yes, Sir,”

You scoped the grounds surrounding you, feeling with the force. Something was luring your mind. Danger crept nearby, hoping to arrive discretely. Frowning slightly, you shifted a hand, reaching out with the force to whatever lurked in the shadows, heart racing.

Eyes locked with your own. Glowing, huge. You gasped, swinging your saber in the creature’s direction—a decision you immediately regretted.

Captain Polka flinched away, “Oh, buggar—“

“Quiet!”

The creature hissed and rose to a great, full height, its form casting a massive silhouette the sky. You reached out in the force, trying to connect with it. The thing shook violently. It roared and stomped its front feet. Spittle sprayed your face but you stood still.

“Steady, men,” you warned. “It’s spooked.”

“Really?”

“Thanks for clearin’ that up, Commander. We were really confused,”

You held a fist in the air to shut them up.

The ground trembled as the creature stepped towards you. It moved briskly for its size. You clipped your lightsaber to your belt and held both arms up, trying to focus the way your master had taught you. If you could connect with the creature through the Force, there would be no need for violence. Eyes closed, you felt the creature’s fear.

Its growl shook your sternum.

It was vital that you calm your mind but each nearing step made you falter. Your heart pounded in your ears, fingers icy cold. It’s life-force began to close itself off. In frustration you pushed harder.

The next roar was much closer this time. Your eyes shot open. One of several long paws bore down on you. You had no time to draw your saber before several bolts of blaster fire lit it up. The beast trudged on unfazed. Its long claws snatched you off the ground.

Several shouts of anger met your ears. You slammed into something solid. Then the ground. You tasted dirt. Blood. Gasping for air, you pushed against the ground feebly. Your hands slipped. Your vision was foggy. The world spun. Did you hit your head? Are the men okay?

“Commander!”

The ground disappeared from under you as you were pulled up into the air again. Your arms got pinned to your sides. Clarity returned quickly with adrenaline. You caught a glimpse of the troopers shooting the beast. You tried to pry those claws from yourself with the force but you couldn’t still your mind enough to be effective. The familiar hum of a lightsaber reached you. No—you had to be imagining it. You grunted as the beast shook you. At once, the beast released you and you hit the ground with a thud. Adjusting your mask, you scrambled to your feet with the help of a trooper. Cheers erupted from all around and you stumbled, confused until you spotted Wolffe running your way, lightsaber in hand. He skidded to a halt and offered it to you.

You took the weapon with a grateful nod and caught your breath, staring at the beast as it recovered from Wolffe’s attack. Slashes, hot and red, streaked the beast. Raging, it huffed and spun to face the other men who were still whooping for their brother.

“Boost, get the others back to the ship!”

He hesitated, nearly being slashed because of it. The creature reached again for him but you force-shoved him back. He landed several meters away and scrambled to his feet, glancing back at them once before returning to the other seven and ordering them to retreat. They ran, drawing the creature’s attention.

With great concentration, you reached with your mind and grabbed hold of the beast. It cried out, tugging the invisible restraint. After the men left the line of sight, the creature slacked. It lunged at the ground, shaking even where you stood. In a moment of respite, it looked around, nose to the air. It looked at you. You froze. Its eyes locked onto yours.

“Wolffe, go—“ The beast swung and you brought your saber up for a block. It cut through, causing the beast to cry out. It trembled in rage. “Go!”

Someone grabbed you from behind. He flung you back just before the creature’s retaliating blow could strike. You stumbled. Wolffe steadied you and told you to run. The beast’s warning growl gave you enough time to swing your lightsaber again, a flash of blue scouring the darkness. You turned, pulling Wolffe with you as you took off into the woods.

“I sent Polka ahead of us. He’s already at the bunker—“

“Bunker?”

“You’ll see!”

Without much time to spare you arrived at a where a rectangular metallic container lay half-buried. Captain Polka stood in the doorway, waving you and Wolffe in. You didn’t have time to question anything. You ushered Wolffe and Polka into the bunker and stood, a hand on the door. You took one final look at the fog before you retreated and slammed the door shut. You turned to Wolffe and Polka, their headlamps lighting up the room just enough to see them.

“We made it,” you breathed. “Have you contacted the others?”

“Yes, ma’am. They made it back to the ship—no severe injuries were sustained.”

“Thank you, Polka,”

His helmet tipped in a curt nod, ever the gentleman.

Wolffe crossed the room to examine a door on the far side. You hadn’t seen it till now. Your keen eyes watched as his helmet moved to look at the dark corners, headlamps lighting the area. You could sense his tension. His head suddenly snapped up to one corner, followed by his blaster. A bolt lit a small, glowing object and it exploded.

“This isn’t a bunker. It’s an entrance to one,” he mused. “And that must’ve been their camera.”

“Great. We’ve pissed off the locals.”

The air shifted. Through the force, you sensed several faint force signatures arriving from behind the door. You hummed. “Wolffe, scan the door,”

He flipped down his scanner and groaned. “You’re not gonna like this,”

“Surely not many. They wouldn’t sent a huge welcome party, right?”

You were envious of Polka’s optimism. “How many do you count?”

“There are too many… more than thirty.”

Wolffe’s helmet trained on the door as he cautiously backed away from it, blaster high and ready to fire. Polka mimicked his stance and you strolled forward, placing yourself between them and the door.

“Are they advancing?”

“Yes,”

“What’s the plan, Commander?”

“Stay behind me. I’ll take the first wave of whatever these are if they are dangerous. If we can’t fight them… We’ll take our chances with the beast.”

“Yes, ma’am,”

“Copy. They’re nearly at the door,”

The darkness of the small, slanted structure brought a chilling reality to your bones. With retreat out of the picture, you had to make friends with the natives. There was no other option. Three versus a multitude. Such odds did not appeal to you.

A thud sounded from the door. You stilled your thoughts. Some of the corrosion fell from the slip around the door when the next crash came. They readied themselves. The latch squeaked and another heavy thud sounded. Then the door slowly heaved open. You shifted in anticipation.

From the shadows slinked a small, slick, midnight black humanoid bearing dark clothing and several indigenous weapons. Its eyes were large and bug-like, mouth wide with sharp teeth bursting, lips unable to cover the fangs.

Its large head tilted as it and its companions examined you. They collectively made a point to hide their eyes from the lights—one of them even hissed upon the sight of the one in your hand. You powered off the weapon in an act of peace, signaling the men to lower their blasters. The one who had entered the room first moved to you and poked at your face—inky black figure unused to your skin. It reached for your hair, very different from its own whisker-like hair that covered its body.

You began to wonder if your trio had happened upon a peaceful species that was merely protecting its home. You marveled at the way its curiosity shone brighter than your saber. It ushered another one of its companions over and the man-like being also studied you. Then the leader came to look at the clones—their white armor and headlamps probably even more terrifying than your more civilized appearance.

One of the beings poked Wolffe’s visor and the commander lightly whispered, “Sir?”

The leader hissed and retreated at the sound of Wolffe’s voice. It looked at its companions, then you. After receiving no further information, it reached again for the helmet. He looked at you.

“Let them,” you returned softly.

The being grasped the lip of Wolffe’s helmet and began to lift it. He gently reached for its hand and the humanoid retracted, hissing. It curled up and backed clear over to the door. The others acted similarly and soon they were raring up like scared animals prepared to strike. Your hand slowly moved to your lightsaber. The boys shifted, readying themselves for a fight. All was still in a freezing cold tension while both sides awaited the other’s attack.

Polka whispered. “What do we do?”

The leader lunged at you. You dodged him, focusing instead on the mass of shimmering eyes behind him. Several more made it through the door before you pushed the group back down the dark tunnel with the force. You held them back as Wolffe slammed the door shut.

Blaster fire lit up the room and Polka’s shouts of terror sent you whipping around, lightsaber extended as two of the beings tackled him. You sliced one down easily but a third attacked you from behind, grabbing you by your armored shoulders. It threw you against the wall. Your bones and muscles already aching from being tossed around earlier, you took too long to get back up. You were still regaining balance when the creature’s large mouth bit at your torso—meeting a mouthful of tough, plastoid armor. Several teeth found a chink in the armor and you gasped, grabbing it by the back of its neck.

You flung it away. When it crawled on all fours back to you like general Grievous, you leapt into the air. Using its own momentum, you slammed it into the wall. It lie there, foot twitching.

An inhuman scream erupted from behind. You turned as one of the beings launched its huge wedge-like weapon into Polka’s helmet. He collapsed like a doll. You felt his life-force leave him. It stole the breath from your lungs, but you leapt into action, charging at Polka’s killer. You drew your saber and before the creature knew it, there was a gaping hole in its chest. Panting, you lobbed its head off for good measure.

You turned to Wolffe to see him wrestling with the final one. Both had been disarmed and were fighting for their lives. It looked like Wolffe nearly had the upper hand. Before you could take a step towards him, something heavy smashed into your shoulder and you dropped your saber.

Your eyes snapped to the being you’d been fighting earlier—his sleek form staring you down. A substance like blood dripped down its face, staining its dark teeth. You had meant to knock it out for longer than that. It ran at you. You flicked your saber at it but like lightning, it evaded the attack. It hit you in the face, sending your mask flying. You blocked another blow to your face—sharp pain manifesting on your forearm from the creature’s claws. On some twisted fear instinct, your hand extended to grasp the being’s head with the force. Something inside of you yearned to crush its skull but you reined that in and instead pulled it to you while simultaneously pulling your lightsaber to your hand and igniting it. You stuck the creature through the chest, stilling its flailing arms.

You turned to find your mask on the floor, saber illuminating the room. A weight dropped in your chest as your eyes located the small, lifesaving piece of equipment. It was broken. Your lungs ached more and more with each passing second. You had never properly learned to utilize the force to hold your breath for long periods of time. In vain, you put the broken mask to your face, hoping it might still work. To your chagrin, the device wouldn’t power on. You brought it before your eyes to see if you could fix it but your fumbling hands couldn’t get the equipment to function. Terrified and unable to hold your breath any longer, your lungs won out.

All hope cascaded into fear as you drew a breath of thick air. Instantly, your lungs burned, throat aching. You coughed, trying to expel the toxic gas, only to breathe in more with your next gasp. You turned to Wolffe, pleading with your eyes as you clutched your chest, wheezing, lungs screaming for good air. His back was to you as he shoved the attacker away from him and towards a wall. Your knees hit the floor and the room spun. Heart pounding in your ears, you reached out in the force to share your anxiety with Wolffe.

His helmet whipped around but you hardly caught the glint of his visor before he was flung into the air. He hit the ground loudly and the being jumped on him. Your eyes drifted shut as your lungs began to give up. In one final effort to help your friend, your fingertips managed to fling your lightsaber in his general direction. Then the world collapsed into darkness.

Wolffe felt the air press out of his lungs when y/n collapsed. A light tap on his shoulder turned his attention and he sent a little thought of gratitude to the padawan for the assist. He fought the creature for control of his helmet as its small hands wrestled for the air hoses.

In an instant, Wolffe freed a hand and reached up, grabbed the cold metal cylinder by his shoulder and ignited it. He swung the lightsaber in front of him, slicing through the creature with ease. It went limp.

Grunting, Wolffe shoved it off and scrambled over to y/n. He tore his helmet off and slid it onto her, holding his breath. His eyes burned immediately as he watched to be sure she would breathe. A moment passed before he realized he wouldn’t last very long like this. He turned to Polka’s body, mentally apologizing. He took off his chest piece and left it beside y/n. Then he rushed over to Polka and stole the broken helmet from him. Blood stained the interior and a large crack ran down the face. He shoved the bucket onto his head. On the glitching visor was a warning that the air system had a leak. He took an experimental breath. It worked. With a sigh, he knelt.

He took a moment to recover before removing his fallen brother’s chest piece and putting it on himself. It was the same size as his own, but it felt wrong—heavier. Like it didn’t belong to him.

Kneeling next to y/n, he felt her pulse. It was steady, her breaths slow. She was asleep, which was much better than dead. He gingerly sat her upright and strapped his armor onto her so she wouldn’t have to carry the air filter around. Even atop her own armor, it was giant on the young girl.

Carefully, he half carried, half dragged her to the wall and leaned her against it. He sat down next to her, setting the lightsaber in her lap. Several long minutes passed. Worry built inside him like a bomb raring to explode. He kept checking to be sure she still held a pulse even though he could clearly see the chest of his grey and white armor rising and falling.

After an eternity, her chest heaved as she drew a deep breath, coming awake. At this, Wolffe let out a heavy breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He stared down at her as the helmet upon her head surveyed the room. It paused on Polka. She then looked at Wolffe.

“Polk’s armor,” she hummed. Wolffe was taken aback, unused to hearing her voice come through the muddled speaker of a helmet. The visor shifted down to her chest, “‘s your armor.”

“You were suffocating. That was the first thing that I thought of,”

“Mm… Thanks,”

“How are you feeling?”

Her head tilted, helmet shifting on a head that was too small for it, “Dizzy.”

Wolffe nodded, resting his head against the wall. After some silence, he concluded, “You saved my life… again. Thank you, commander.”

“Y/n,” she replied, “not ‘commander.’”

He nodded, “Thank you, y/n.”

“‘nything for you, Woof,”

Wolffe couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. He glanced at the door of the bunker, refocusing on their mission. “When should we head out?”

“The beast’s—still ou’ there,” she slurred, head shifting to the door. “Gotta wait.”

“Shall I contact general Plo?”

She nodded, still looking over yonder. If Wolffe could see through her visor, he was sure there would be a blank look in those eyes.

“Are you alright, y/n?”

“‘m fine,” she hummed, “tired.”

He watched her for a moment before activating his comm to record a transmission for Plo. He explained their situation briefly and sent their location, requesting immediate evac. He knew they’d be safe from those deep below the bunker—the strong lock held firm even when, during the fight, the others were banging on the door to get through. His concern lied with y/n. His eyes trailed as her head began to dip, only for her to jerk back. This happened several times before she gave in and her head dropped. Wolffe figured there would be little harm in allowing her to rest.

The response from Plo came quickly in the form of a holo transmission, notifying Wolffe that the rest of the group from earlier would be there shortly with spare masks for both of them just in case. Wolffe told his general that they would likely be alright without them, but he was grateful nonetheless. He himself was beginning to feel the heavy weariness that y/n described, but he tried to not let it show.

“Mas’er?”

Wolffe turned the camera so it would catch y/n as well and so she could see her Master. Plo’s eyes lit up in a soft smile.

“Hello, young one. How are you?”

“Real… tired,” she breathed.

“Are you able to breathe well enough with Wolffe’s helmet?”

“I thinkso. ‘s big.”

“That it is. Help is on the way, y/n. You and Wolffe must hang on for a few more minutes.”

Wolffe’s cracked visor lit up, saying that the oxygen levels in the air were severely depleted. He began to draw slower breaths both to save air and stave off panic.

He had nearly suffocated in an incident years ago that gave him a case of claustrophobia. That day, had it not been for Ahsoka Tano’s persistence and Plo Koon’s innovative tactics, his brothers and he would have died agonizing deaths in the endless vacuum of space. It took a moment to regain composure, and when he did, he tuned back in to hear y/n asking if he was alright.

“I’m fine, commander. Just feeling a little bit crammed.”

Plo announced, “The shuttle should be arriving now.”

As if on queue, the padawan’s comm light blinked with an incoming call and she took it, Boost’s proud voice coming through, “We’re landing at your location now—that huge beast from earlier was out here. Turns out, he doesn’t like bright lights shining on him. He ran off like a scared tooka.”

“Thank the force,” she said, helmet smacking the wall behind her.

Wolffe got up gingerly, nursing his aching limbs. Every movement pulled at his quickly draining energy. He made his way to the door and unlocked it, opening it to to reveal the gunship with open doors awaiting them. He ended the call with Plo and turned back to y/n, who was attempting to get to her feet.

“Sinker, Boost, come here!”

He turned back to retrieve y/n. For as light as she was, in his weakened state, he failed to support her. His head spun. He rested a hand on the wall as his brothers lifted the girl. Sinker made sure that Boost had her and turned to Wolffe just as his visor warned him that the oxygen had reached dangerously low levels.

“My… air is… running out,” he panted.

He blinked and suddenly he was being half-dragged back to the gunship. He heard Sinker call for an oxygen mask just before he blacked out.

You drew a long breath. The air refreshed your lungs in a crisp, clean wave that made you feel alive. Exhaling, you focused on the warmth of the air as it left your mouth, gracing your teeth. Your eyes drifted open and you rolled to your side, entire body stiff from lying still for what must have been weeks. The med-wing was relatively quiet and the lights were turned low. Perhaps it was night.

Time passed slowly but you were too awake to fall back asleep. Heck, you had never felt so alive. For a while, you debated unhooking yourself from the machines and going to your quarters. Before your mind was made up, a doctor came in and greeted you, telling you you were free to leave at any time. He informed you that you were quite lucky—your injuries were not severe enough to warrant surgery. Bacta had done the job. You had been under sedation for three days while the worst of your injuries healed. You thanked him and within the hour, you were on your way to visit with Master Plo.

You found the distinguished general on the bridge. Standing next to him in uniform was a healthy-looking, very alive Wolffe. They both noticed you simultaneously. Without missing a beat, you sprinted to Wolffe and trapped him into as big a hug as you could muster. He gently returned the embrace. You nestled your face into his chest, ignoring any possible stares.

“Thank you so much for everything you did, Wolffe. You saved my life,”

You could hear his smile through the rumble of his voice, “You know, lil pup, you’ve saved my life many more times than I can count. I should be thanking you.”

“I believe that both of you displayed incredible courage through those trials,” came Plo’s interjection.

You released Wolffe to hug your master.

“Thank you, master,” your voice was muffled in his cloaks, “without your training, I wouldn’t have survived a second down there.”

“You have good instincts and a strong connection with the force, young one. You would have found a way—I have no doubt,” he hummed, holding you at arms length. Then he looked between you and Wolffe, a large smile in his eyes. With a hand on each of your shoulders, and a confidence about his poise, he concluded, “I’m very proud of you both.”

//~//~//

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#clone trooper wolffe #commander Wolffe #Wolffe tcw #the clone wars #tcw #Wolffe x reader #tcw fanfic #the clone wars fanfic #Wolffe tcw fanfic #tcw Wolffe

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tsuki-here · 1 year

Text

Okay so @maja-cherub made some Beast Machine Rattrap posts, and I've also been wanting to write a proper essay about the episode "The Weak Component" for a while now [and recently was ranting to a mutual about it like a week ago, so it's still fresh in my mind. So yeah, shout out to @j-starchaser for letting me rant about it and also for being the beta reader/editor for this essay], so here we are. Long text post beneath the cut, and of course Beast Machine spoilers-

To begin with, I enjoyed watching Beast Machines, despite the fact that yes, it has its share of flaws. Also, Rattrap is my favorite character in both Beast Wars and Beast Machines, so some bias might come through. But I've watched some YouTube essays talking about the full Beast Machines series, as well as text posts/comments by others that say they feel The Weak Component is the worst or one of the worst episodes of the series because of the way Rattrap acts/the actions he takes throughout the episode. [AKA, he's out of character]. So I just wanted to give my view on that and the episode in general.

For me personally, The Weak Component is one of, if not, my favorite episode of Beast Machines. I've only watched the series from start to finish once, but have gone back to watch that episode somewhere around 5-10 times, including once again to refresh my memory on some dialogue for this analysis. Of course, this is a matter of personal preference, and everyone is entitled to their own likes and dislikes. A large portion of why I like the episode so much is because of the amount of Rattrap screen time and focus. So, there's some of the bias I mentioned haha.

As for the argument that Rattrap is out of character, I both agree and disagree to an extent. Yes, in this episode Rattrap does things that he never did or would have done in Beast Wars. However, this is a situation that never happened in Beast Wars. The events and situations in this episode are not something we've seen Rattrap deal with before, and are clearly shown to be very stressful, as well as mentally and emotionally taxing for him. I'll go through the episode, breaking down the individual stress factors and his reactions to them.

To begin with a base line: Before this episode even takes place, there's already a number of stress-inducing factors at play. The Maximals’ entire situation seems completely hopeless. The little group of Optimus, Cheetor, Blackarachnia, Nightscream, and Rattrap against Megatron, his three vehicon generals, and the entire population of Cybertron (the latter made into mindless drones to obey Megatron). They're in an extremely unfair, dangerous, and practically hopeless fight with the entire fate of their home on their shoulders. On top of that, Rattrap can't transform. In beast mode, he has no real weapons to fight with, and has to make do with what his animal form is capable of. Meanwhile, everyone else can transform and has weapons/powers. We know from both Beast Wars and The Weak Component that protecting his friends is something extremely important to Rattrap. So, to be in such an outnumbered and dangerous predicament, to be unable to fight alongside the other Maximals and help them in the way he wants to, and had been capable of before, is immensely frustrating and upsetting to him. He went so far as to take 'transformation enhancers' to try and force his body into doing what he desperately wanted it to be able to do. Furthermore, they still haven't even figured out what's happened to Rhinox or Silverbolt, and Rhinox especially was clearly important to Rattrap, so him still being missing is likely also weighing on him.

Now, episode 6 happens. Rattrap is out on a mission with Cheetor and Nightscream. They didn't seem to want to bring Rattrap with them to begin with since they thought he was likely to just get in the way. And each time Rattrap tries to help or contribute in some way, he's scolded and told to knock it off. The other two even come up with a plan together that they completely leave Rattrap out of the loop on, and then are angry with him when he interferes under the belief that Cheetor was in danger, which ruins the plan, and gets Cheetor hurt by accident. Worse, after messing up the plan he hadn't been informed of in the first place, he finds out that his transformed mode has no weaponry, so he can't even clean up the unintentional mess.

When returning to the base, Cheetor and Nightscream talk down to Rattrap the whole time, and don't seem to care about his attempts at explaining himself. It had been an important moment to him, as it was the first time he had managed to transform to robot mode at will, and it was because he saw Cheetor in what he perceived as danger. The strong desire he felt to protect those dear to him was the motivation he'd been missing. Before, he'd been selfishly concerned about not transforming for his own wants, but he put that aside and was fully focused on only wanting to save Cheetor.

But neither of the other two really try to understand him, and harshly tell him that he shouldn't have bothered helping, since he made things worse. He's crushed that his friends aren't happy for him being able to transform at last, and aren't appreciative of how his only desire and intention had been to help.

He's then seen talking to the unconscious Optimus about how useless he feels, describing himself as a lemon. Though he doesn't seem angry with Optimus, knowing that there was no intention on his end for things to turn out the way they had, but he still blames him to an extent for being the one to convince them all to let the Oracle upgrade their bodies, only to feel that he's been remade broken and much weaker than he'd been before.

In his talking to himself, he transforms, as if to show what he's been turned into. At that exact moment Cheetor, Nightscream, and Blackarachnia walk in and immediately start snapping at him for potentially giving Megatron the chance to lock on to his signal and track them to their base. Cheetor even goes as far as physically tackling him to the ground and yelling at him. Though this does give Rattrap the chance to realize that he had accidentally downloaded Megatron's vital stats during the mission, and that he is very vulnerable and weakened at the moment. He suggests that now is the time to attack, but is quickly told “no” by Cheetor, who insists that they must remain at the base to protect Optimus until he's recovered.

Then they leave Rattrap, only to go to a different room to talk about him behind his back. He listens in on the conversation, hearing how they all think that he's not contributing anything and needs to be looked after. Nightscream even goes as far as suggesting they 'cut him loose'. Considering the position they're in, with Megatron having an entire army searching for them at all times, and all of them knowing that Rattrap cannot defend himself, this is essentially Nightscream suggesting that they should exile Rattrap and leave him to die. [To which thankfully Cheetor at least has the sense to get angry and reject that idea immediately.] Tired of the treatment he's getting and of being seen as a dead weight to the team, Rattrap leaves to try and resolve the problem by himself.

During this time, he's being subjected to even more new stresses piling on top of each other. Now he's able to transform, only to find out that all his struggles were seemingly for nothing. He thinks he's no more capable of helping than when he was stuck as a rat. All of his friends are treating him awfully and being completely unsupportive of the issues he's going through. They’re talking behind his back, have no faith in him, and one of them is even advocating for kicking him out entirely.

Rattrap then comes up with a plan to solve the issue himself. He goes to Megatron with a deal: give me weapons and in exchange, I'll protect you until morning while you recover. When Megatron then points out that he can just kill Rattrap while he's there alone, Rattrap counters that he will just send a distress signal to the other Maximals. But Megatron calls the bluff, and says he knows he wouldn't have come to him if he had anywhere else to turn to, and Rattrap does genuinely feel that way. He doesn't feel that he can rely on the other Maximals to help him, and has no choice but to turn to Megatron instead. He is so disillusioned with the other Maximals, that he throws away the device that would have sent the distress signal, believing that it won't be of any use to him. He feels so uncared for that he doesn't think the others would bother coming to help him if he called.

And Megatron tries to take advantage of this, by offering Rattrap to work with him instead, as a vehicon. Of course, Rattrap declines, but Megatron pushes it. He gives Rattrap a powerful weapon suit, and tells him how he would make such a good ally on his side, while the Maximals clearly don't want him anymore.

Rattrap had no intention of betraying the Maximals with this deal. He only said that he'd protect him because he was certain that no one was going to leave the base anyway. Rattrap was promising to protect Megatron from a threat he knew wasn't coming, certain that he wouldn't have to fight the others.

However, Megatron's blatant emotional manipulation does seem to cause Rattrap even more doubts. He's successfully calling out all of Rattrap's insecurities, telling him all of the things he knows he’s already thinking in his vulnerable state. He tells him how the other Maximals don't care or appreciate him, or how Optimus has fed him nothing but lies and false promises of power that he could never deliver on when he convinced them to have their bodies reformatted.

Then things only spiral further out of control when Cheetor, Nightscream, and Blackarachnia show up under the belief Megatron is holding Rattrap against his will and he needs saving. Rattrap is clearly upset and anxious about them being there, as he's now placed into a horrible lose/lose situation.

He can break his deal with Megatron, and they will be attacked and not permitted to leave unharmed. They are in Megatron's headquarters, without a plan, and without Optimus. They can be easily overrun by vehicons if they try to fight there. And if they just try to run, Rattrap would be forfeiting the weapon suit, and would be going back to just being a dead weight again who can't contribute and needs constant protection.

Or if he keeps his word and protects Megatron, especially with him guilt tripping Rattrap that it's morally wrong to attack an injured and defenseless opponent, Rattrap will be betraying his friends. Even if he tries to explain his reasoning afterwards, there's a good chance they'll exile him anyways and won’t give him any chance to explain himself.

Then the Maximals also start accusing him of being a traitor, saying how they never should have trusted him, and that he's sold them out for weapons. He doesn't want to openly admit in front of Megatron that the deal had been intended as a scam, and tries to subtly tell them that they need to leave.

But Nightscream disregards everything, and tries to attack Megatron anyways. Rattrap has no time to think of what to do, so in his panic and confusion, he fires at Nightscream. This only escalates the situation, with the Maximals attacking him more, and him defending himself as well as trying to drive them away. Rattrap is also clearly reaching his mental breaking point. He starts accusing them back of never believing in him, that Nightscream advocated for cutting him loose, how they were now the ones ruining his plan. But despite how angry and hurt he is, after all of the things that had been said, he gives them a heartbroken look and pleads 'don't make me do this'. After all, he still does see them as his friends, or at least he really wants to believe that they are still friends. He desperately wants them to trust his word and walk away so he wouldn’t have to hurt them.

They ignore his warning though, and Cheetor attacks him again, further proving their lack of trust and faith. Megatron uses this as an opportunity to continue pointing out how they hate and pity Rattrap, how they don't want him around anymore and how Optimus lied to him. He also repeats how, unlike Optimus, he himself has delivered the power that he had promised to Rattrap, manipulating him into trying to think that he can only trust and rely on Megatron now. And it almost works, until Optimus arrives and finally shows Rattrap real support and faith, shaming the others for their lack of belief in their friend. Unfortunately, none of them can be bothered to apologize for their treatment of Rattrap. [I’d like to hope that they apologized off screen, but it would have been nice to actually see it.]

The Weak Component is an episode about Rattrap going through severe self esteem issues, only to receive no support from his supposed friends, and then being pushed into a rapid downward spiral by the compounding stress and pain until he's forced into a corner and reaches his breaking point.

One can argue that he's out of character, sure. I can understand why some people might view it that way. But as I stated at the beginning, we don't see Rattrap go through any of these issues in Beast Wars. He doesn't go through a long period of feeling useless to the team, he doesn't lose faith in his friends, he never feels the need to make a deal with Megatron. The closest we get is the episode where he pretends to be a traitor and to become a Predacon, but he and Optimus were both in on it. They had to make it believable to the others to ensure it worked, and Rattrap knew Optimus had his back to explain things afterwards. He never had to actually hurt his friends for any reason.

The argument I do most agree with is that Rattrap could have just killed Megatron the instant he got the mech suit. He could have solved things then, sure, but by that point Megatron was already actively manipulating him and guilt tripping him with the whole 'you can't kill me while I'm too weak to defend myself' thing. Sure, maybe Beast Wars Rattrap would have just shot him anyways, but there's still the manipulation to account for, and possibly the fear that the rest of Megatron's vehicons would have shown up and overwhelmed him while he was there alone. And of course Megatron also convinced him that calling his friends would be useless.

And even if he can be considered out of character in this episode, sometimes stress does that to people. I can personally attest that I'm usually a very calm, reasonable person, and I have a very long fuse. I don't get angered easily by things, and even if I do get angry, I can keep myself from snapping at people. But when I get stressed, anxious, and overwhelmed, I have less control over my temper, and might get upset or angry over seemingly small things because it was just the final straw. I think that's the case for most people; everyone has their mental limits. In Rattrap's case, he has a bunch of highly stressful and hurtful things happening to him, and he finally lashes out. Honestly with the temper he's been shown to have at times, I'm surprised it took so long for him to lash out verbally.

The same argument can be made aboutCheetor. That his treatment of Rattrap was out of character, especially after everything they had been through together. But Cheetor was also acting out of stress because of the situation as a whole and the additional pressure of leadership while Optimus was out of commission.

To conclude this whole thing, I'd just like to say that yes, I enjoy the episode and think there are valid reasons behind the choices Rattrap makes, and that it actually fits his character if you take everything he's going through into consideration. It’s very difficult for him to think clearly, or make the choices he would have made under normal circumstances. I also really enjoy episodes/arcs that force my favorite fictional guys into brand new situations that push them to their limits and even to their breaking point. I don't think his arc was resolved in the greatest fashion though, considering no one apologizes at the end of the episode, no one brings up the things that were said to each other. And, as far as I remember, Rattrap never shows any further struggles adjusting to his new body or role. Optimus just gives him a pep talk at the end of the episode and all his grievances, self esteem issues, etc. are all just solved I guess. There's things that definitely could be done better and I would have done differently personally, but I still like the episode for what it is.

[Also side note! I just also wanted to say that I love the visual direction of the episode with the intense red and black color scheme throughout the whole confrontation scene. You'll see more of my appreciation for it below. And also Scott McNeil's voice acting for the episode is so good! Rattrap is often treated as a comedic character, so I really appreciate the darker tone of Beast Machines. Rattrap gets some very serious and emotional line delivery, especially in this episode. When he said the lines "I ain't nobody’s charity case" and "I ain't afraid of nothing", I got goosebumps. It’s really emotional, and his anger and pain really hit you. Scott's performance really enhances the whole episode for me.]

So yeah, I've been wanting to break this whole thing down for a while because Rattrap has been consuming my brain for months, and I also think about The Weak Component a lot. So much so I started an animatic like 5 months or so ago about the episode [though completely contrary to my point that Rattrap never wanted to hurt or betray them, it's an au of what if he joined Megatron's side], so I'm hoping finally getting to talk about this more will be the motivation I need to finish it. Anyways, here's a couple frames I had on hand that are part of it, and I also posted a short video a while back showing a run animation for it. So yeah, enjoy these in the meantime until I can make myself finish the full video. ^-^

#transformers #rattrap #beast wars #beast machines #rant #essay #analysis #my art #I just really love my little guy okay #and everyone else should love him too #this has been a psa #I just want to give him hugs and tell him I'm so proud of him #he deserves it

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