#but yeah it’s. like yeah i still panic about it. especially certain things. but sometimes instead of losing function every time i just talk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

celestialscatterbrain · 4 months

Note

hii!! could u pls tell us about having someone’s mars sun and venus in our 12H pls (synastry)!?! 😵‍💫

Do not interact if you are a minor. (18+)

Oh, wow! You probably have no idea just why you want them so much. In more unfortunate situations, the planet person can give you nothing tangible and maybe even be breadcrumbing you, but you just can’t get enough. It’s like, they can give u nothing and you’ll still pick them over other people who are trying to give you the world. You want to figure them out and enter their world, especially because there is something “inaccessible” or “mysterious” about them. You want to know how they think. This is especially true from the house person’s perspective. With 12H synastry, I always learn soooo much about myself and my unconscious desires and tendencies (whether as the planet person or as the house). I noticed that Mars and Venus in the 12H of a synastry or composite chart can indicate this relationship might start off as an affair or 3rd party situation.

Of the placements mentioned here, my least favorite to experience was definitely Mars in the 12th. I had read once that this placement can create blockages in being able to have s*x with one another, and that’s exactly what I experienced. It’s like you get so close but just can’t for some reason. Could lead to performance issues at the start of a s*xual relationship, in some cases. I noticed it’s super easy to feel vulnerable with the mars person as the 12th houser, but it’s not consistently reciprocated from the mars. Mars can notice everything about the 12H person, and can try to force them to talk about it or they have to point it out to them. In an unhealthy dynamic, the mars can get gratification at how weak the 12H becomes for them. In the positive, it’s crazy how the mars person can teach you what you like s*xually. They can learn your body extremely fast. It’s like your body and mars are having a conversation that you are left out of but get to enjoy the rewards of it. I never got to have s*x with mars, but the way he would touch my body and explore me made me literally c*m from kissing. It was the craziest thing I ever experienced and was super shocked LMFAOOO (TMI, sorry). I’ve never experienced that again in my life. Mars can have different ideas about spirituality than the 12H, and will be down to debate why they have certain beliefs. It can be super easy for mars to hurt 12H’s feelings. I don’t know why this placement can make the 12H person more submissive than they are with other romantic partners, but it does. The mars can sometimes fight to be in your life, but once they are there it seems like they can panic and leave after they’ve brought destruction you have to live with. Sometimes I felt like I “irked” the mars person on a subconscious level even though I was always nice and sweet with him. He would be super nice with me and then one moment make a snarky comment or just switch up completely without warning. I sometimes felt like he wanted to like me, but a part of him somewhat disliked for reasons unknown to him.

Sun in the 12th house synastry has potential to be nice. I feel like this is a placement where you guys can recognize something inexplicable in one another. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.” I think this leaves nothing off the table, and all topics are fair game. You can find a lot of unconditional acceptance with one another, even with the parts you might hide from others. The 12H person might feel instinctually comfortable expressing their quirks or behaving the same way they are when there’s not a soul in sight when with the sun person. “Let’s be alone together.” The sun brings light and warmth to the dark nebulas the 12H person swims in. The sun person can probably help the 12H person come out of their shell and show themselves to the world. The Sun person might want to lift the 12H person up. The 12H person might also see through the persona the sun person can let off. The sun person could confidently feel like they have the house person figured out, but the 12H person’s foggy neptunian energy can always catch the sun by surprise and they realize they didn’t dig as deeply as they thought. The 12h person can teach the sun person to be more introspective and can teach them how to appreciate time to themselves. The sun person might change the depth of their thinking or topics they engage with after their interaction with the 12H person. In a negative interaction, the house person can see every move the sun person is gonna make and knows how react in the way that will bruise the sun’s ego. The sun underestimates the 12H person a lot. When they experience conflict, the sun person will try to embarrass the 12H person and can try to paint them as weird, and the 12H person will swallow up the sun into their dark oblivion and drain their light as retribution. Also in the negative, the sun person can compare themselves to the house person and can at times feel like they are having an identity crisis and resent the 12H person for it when the house person was just doing their thing and being authentic. I noticed that the 12H person represents a lot of things the sun person wishes they could exude and it can make the sun feel dimmed and their egos to be challenged. The house person can also represent qualities the sun person hasn’t really seen in person before, and they can envy the individuality of the 12H person. The sun person can dislike how philosophical the 12H person makes everything. If engaged in conflict, the 12H person can dream of the sun in ways that show the sun’s intentions or moves. The 12H person’s connection to the dead or the spiritual realm might be intimidating to the sun person, even if they believe in the same things. They might resent that the 12H person seems to be more spiritual gifted than them. the sun person might have more paranormal experiences when around the 12h person. The 12H’s spirits might become “visible” or "active."

For Venus in the 12th house synastry, that eye contact must be crazyyyyyyy. The dreams you have of one another can feel euphoric. You guys can idealize each other and can dismiss one another’s red flags. In private is when this relationship thrivessssssss. Like absolute heart eyes. Late night hang outs. Wanting them irrationally. Your thoughts are now entirely consumed by one another, but you still might not display that to one another until you guys are back together in person. I feel like whispering amongst each other is a big thing. “Let’s make a fairytale.” Wishing you can find books or movies that have a similar set up as you two so you can relive certain moments. “You’ll see me in hindsight tangled up with you all night burning it down, someday when you leave me I bet these memories follow you around” from wildest dreams by Taylor Swift puts it perfectly. Good luck forgetting one another even if the relationship never comes off the ground. “Say you’ll see me again even if it’s just pretend.” You long for one another. You feel like this is a love sent from the heavens. This person exemplifies your dream girl or boy, that you didn’t think existed and now you NEED to have them. This feels like your chance and living out ur favorite fan fiction or romance novel. The ups, the downs, the depth, the confusion, the consuming rush of love. The daydreams, the sweetness, the intimacy. “Your love is my drug” vibes for real, (Kesha is a Pisces after all). However, this can also be a relationship that needs to be kept secret for some reason. This can be because one or both of you might have another relationship someone feels trapped to. Not sure what security you’d have with one another if you fully got together. “What if it was all for nothing?” Maybe a fear of being outcasted from society or judged terribly for getting together can be an issue present in your relationship. Fear of expressing or confessing romantic feelings out of fear or rejection can make this relationship become an extremely confusing one or be an incredibly drawn out slow burn. Check out my post on 12H Venus in the composite for more of an idea on what energies can be present with this placement. Intimate eye contact feels like: “let me dive into your pupils and take a swim inside of ur soul.” Bonnie and Clyde vibes, “if we go down, we go down together and meet in the next life. The 12H also rules over prison, so hopefully this doesn’t apply to you two— but it emphasizes the partners-in-crime dynamic.

#astrology #relationship astrology #astroblr #astrology observations #sexstrology #synastry #12h placements #12th house synastry #mars #Venus #sun #astro community

290 notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 9 months

Text

Drive With You Forever

Chapter Six: When they realized then needed a bigger bed

Max Verstappen x reader x Charles leclerc x lando norris

Chapter Summary: Lando is a bit insecure, sleeping arrangements are changed, reader gets an ominous letter, Charles is furious with Ferrari

Warnings: anxiety, insecurities, creepy people, ferrari being idiots

Notes: so, hear me out here y'all. Any thoughts on adding a fifth 👀

Previous <-

Masterlist

Lando spent the rest of the break with them. Or, as much as he could.

He felt like he belonged every time he was near them. Even if they were just sitting. He felt loved and wanted.

They hadn't officially said what they are yet. Lando has no idea where any of this is going. But for now, he's enjoying it.

The start of the season came around quickly. All of them are back to traveling around the world in now time.

Something new is in the air, however.

Covid had been a possible threat to their sport. It had already canceled other events and prohibited people from leaving their houses.

They got to spend a few days in Australia before being sent home. Ordered to tay inside.

Lando was terrified. He hates being cooped up, and he hates being alone. Two of his worst nightmares come to get him. The idea makes him want to vomit.

It's her idea that he stays with them. He practically lives there already anyway. Max is especially excited to have his gaming buddy in the same house, and Charles is glad that Lando is open to the idea of all this.

All of you hated the idea of not being able to leave the house. The only thing keeping everyone sane is each other.

The boys have taken to streaming. The setup in every room made to look like it's an entirely different house.

There have almost been a few close calls. Her awareness of tlwhen they have a camera on not the greatest. It's specifically difficult when all three odbthen are playing and she has nowhere to go.

Max took the main bedroom. Lando has been living in the guest bedroom and set up there. Charles has a corner of the living room. It leaves very few safe spots for her.

Their sleeping arrangement hadn't changed. Lando is still holed up in the guest bed. Despite all three of them making it known he could sleep with them if he wanted.

She saw the anxiety flashing through his eyes every time they brought it up. They'd tried talking to him about it it multiple times now only for Landonto shut down right before their eyes.

"You could just kiss him." Suggests Max one night like as the three crawl into bed.

"And send him straight into a panic attack?" Charles counters. His hands under his pillow and spine facing the ceiling.

"Have we ever considered that maybe he doesn't want this?" She ponders. Her arms wrap around her legs and pull them into her. Both boys just shake their heads. They'd all picked up on how he was testing certain boundaries. Slowly getting comfortable with being more touchy. He asks questions about them whenever he sees them do something new. Longing glances cast between him and the other three when they do something romantic.

“I think he’s just shy.” Charles voice is muffled by his head in his pillow.

“Maybe we need a slow start.”

Lando can’t sleep that night. The tossing and turning he’d been doing forever, not helping him. There are too many thoughts. There are too many wants. Not enough sleep.

He'd been listening to someone tiptoeing around outside. The hushed whispers of deep male voices. Sometimes, the cats would pur outside the door.

He was already when he heard someone softly knocking on the door. "Yeah?"

The door opens, revealing the outline of a female figure. She pads over to the bed and crawls in next to him. "Can I stay? The boys are snoring. Only if you're okay with it, though."

'"Yeah, sure, it's no problem. I can't sleep either, actually."

She slides herself under the covers and curls up into his sides.

He'd been more touchy with then recently. He didn't know the limits and it seemed like touch is a secondary form of communication. But this felt different. Seeing her completely relaxed, head on his chest and his arm now wrapped around her. It's more intimate. She's letting herself be completely vulnerable with him. Something very few get the privilege of.

He did even realize he fell asleep until he's awoken by another set of knocks. They just come in without knocking.

"Can't believe you left us." Charles feigns and exaggerates a look of heartbreak.

"You sounded like your engine at the start of a race." She counters.

Max keels over from laughing so hard.

None of them mention the way Lando is holding her. Neither of them make it awkward.

"Can we join you? You look so cozy." Max smiles at them. His voice raspy from his previous sleep.

"Sure, if it's not weird or anything."q

"Why would it be weird?" The girl on his chest asks. He looks at her, and there is genuine confusion in her eyes.

"I'm not - you know - with you guys."

"Do you want to be?"

He's grateful the lights are low because he can feel the heat in his cheeks. Everything in him wants to say yes.

"The offer is there Lando, if you want it."

He goes to sleep with that thought in his head. The presence of other people comforting enough to send his head into the bliss of unconsciousness.

The way they wake up in the morning is absolutely ridiculous. The girl is still on top of Lando's chest. The two of them are tucked protectively into Max. His arm managing to grip both their waists. Then Charles is sprawled across their legs.

He's met with pretty eyes batting down at him. A smile creeping on his face at the sight. "Is this normally how you wake up?"

"Depends on the night." She answers with a chuckle. He lets himself relax into the soft feeling of the bed. The other two males waking up slowly to the sun drifting in through the window.

"Why me? I don't add anything to the group."

"You don't have to add anything. Yourself is enough because we love you." She smiles. "Seb says I spent so much time away from people that now I have too much love to give."

The German had told her it's okay to want to love more than one person. It just means she has a big heart and wants to share it.

"Is it bad that I like waking up like this? With everyone?"

Max tightens his grip. "We can do this all the time, if you want."

Lando gains the biggest grin on his face. "I think I would like that."

"We're going to need a bigger bed." Comes Charles voice, muffled since his face is in the bed.

His comment making everyone giggle

Then three became four

They did manage to get a bed big enough for them. Instead of a set place they had previously, the file in where ever seems most comfortable for the night.

It didn't take long to move Lando in. He didn't have much left at his apartment anyway.

They did have to rearrange some furniture and get another dresser. Their original storage far from enough now. They'd give new purpose to the guest room by basically turning it into a closet. They are proud of their handiwork on that.

Now, if someone wants to stay with them, they'll have to explain why there is a room full of dressers and drawers. Not that they're complaining, though.

Lando had fallen right in sync with how they've been operating. Even adding his own things to their routine.

The four of them were on the couch just talking about anything and everything. Lando with his new hobbies, Max and his iracing team, Charles and his music, her with her new inventions.

They'd wanted to know for a while now what been keeping her attention. She'd done small projects up til this point, and now she had been working on the same thing for weeks. They had yet to figure it out.

Then Max's phone was ringing. Then went Charles. Followed by Lando. The three darting to seperate room to answer without bothering eachother.

She considered calling Seb. Only to cure her boredom while waiting for them to return. She called him and Hanna almost daily. They'd laughed when she told them about Lando. Seb commented that she's collecting drivers at this point. The joke made her laugh so hard she alerted the entire house.

It doesn't take long for Max to come back, practically jumping with excitement. "We can race again!" He cheers. His celebration continued by lifting her into his arms and swinging her around.

Charles and Lando do the same thing, and by the time they finish, the floor is moving beneath her. She had yet to get a phone call. She works for Ferrari, so she figures it will come soon.

She is, however, very wrong.

She gets a call from Mattia hours later. The boys exited to celebrate the return of their livelihoods with her when she comes back with the good news.

All three are shocked to see her return downcast. Her phone call lasts longer than the other three combined. They can't hear anything aisde from small sniffles.

She doesn't want to tell them what was said. She dosen't want to ruin their night with her problems.

Mattia had called just to tell her not to come anywhere near the garage. Somone had been leaking Ferrari designs and data to Redbull. The most likely suspect is her because she's dating Max, but that's their only evidence.

It feels wrong. She feels let down in a way. Did they really think she would do that?

She's drying her tears before they can see them, but they know. They'd seen her upset enough times to know when she's hurting.

Charles is the first to embrace her. The hug causes her to fall into him. She choked on her sobs as she hid her face in his chest. His fingers fall into the same soothing pattern that always calms her down.

"They think I told Max Ferrari secrets." She sobs.

The other three exchange looks of anger and confusion. Obviously, someone had done it if they had a reason to think this, but to blame it on her makes no sense. She'd been with them longer than Charles. She practically lived in the garage helping the mechanics.

"I promise I didn't, Charles. I could never hurt you and Seb like that."

"I know you didn't, mon chéri. You're too busy trying to help Max not crash his car. Our secrets won't fix that.

Lando bites his lip to hold a laugh in, and Max dramatically clutches at his chest. "I'm offended by this Charles. Next time, I'm crashing into you."

Their first day back, she immediately ran off to find seb. Only to hault in her tracks when she sees him in the Ferrari garage. She looks at Charles, who followed close behind since they needed to go to the same place anyway. "Can you tell Seb I'm out here and want to see him, please?"

The Monegasque nods understandingly and stalks off. Still angry that they've kicked her out of any Ferrari places in the Paddock.

Seb nods his head at Something Charles said, then comes in her direction. Despite the protocol, the German hugs her anyway. "I'm trying to sort things out, I promise."

"I'm alright, really, I'm just disappointed that they think so low of me after all these years." She sighs.

The engineers are looking at her with sad and longing glances. She was immensely helpful to their strategy and safety. Very few of them really believe what they've been told.

She spends her newfound freedom to see those she hadn't in months. Daniel's smile is still as big as the last time she saw it in person. Alex and Lily haven't changed a bit. George seems to have gotten taller over the break. Then Carlos, his jokes just as bad as when they last saw each other.

Pierre and Kika end up finding her. Pierre spent a good chunk of time with Charles, and though he hasn't said anything, she gets the feeling the Frenchman knows there's something going on.

She doesn't know where to go. Everyone knows her as the Ferrari girl. It hurts seeing everyone in red and wishes she could be there with Seb.

Redbull is out of the picture for now. If Seb is trying to fix things, that would make it worse. McLaren seems like a good option, but even then, she doesn't know if she'll be wanted.

She finds a corner of the paddock that's secluded and tucks herself away. Her mind is doing its best to try and escape the reality that she is no longer with Ferrari.

It seems nobody is going to disturb her. That she may get to sit here in peace. Until someone she doesn't recognize is standing in front of her.

He looks like a fan. "Excuse me, sir, do you need help?" She asks. Her voice made to be friendly since he's probably not trying to disturb her and she dosent want him to feel bad.

"Actually, I was looking for you." He fishes around in his pockets and pulls out a note. The envelope folded and creased and he hands it to her.

"He said he's nit finished with you." Is his only statement before turning on his heels and leaving her alone again.

She texted the boys that she was going to the hotel. The encounter left her with a sick feeling. She just made up some excuse about not feeling comfortable around the Ferrari garage. It's only Thursday. They won't miss her with their media duties to keep them busy.

Her fingers hold the crinkled envelope. No address or name on it.

Her curiosity gets the better of her, and she's ripping it open to soothe it. The letter itself is just a handwritten piece of white lined paper. Nothing special.

The contexts inside the note make her sick. She knows this handwriting. It's her father's.

Sentences about how he's going to come back for her when they let him off parole. How he's been spending his free time learning everything the government would teach him. He was a benefit to them and he is benefiting from them.

There are instructions about how to keep herself in top condition for when he is finally able to continue his work. To make her whole. To let her atone for her sins.

The room feels as if it's closing in on her. She can't breathe. All sense of reason lost to the idea she could be going back there.

But she's an adult now, right? He can't tell her what to do.

She tucks the note into her coat pocket. Praying the boys don't go rifling through her things. She's not going to tell them. Worry about what it could do to them eating her up inside.

They have jobs to do. She's just here now. Alone and lost. Just like all those years ago.

Traveling with the four of them makes trips fun. Somone is always getting up to something.

The constant banter filled with love and tender moments makes everything worth it.

She feels guilty for hiding what happened. The note still hidden in the same pocket.

She's analyzed every bit of it. Her free time still massive since Ferrari determined they are not taking her back. Charles and Seb have been struggling more since her departure. The mechanics are trying to make up for her speedy repairs, and the engineers spend more time looking and analyzing data.

The boys can see she's hurting. Charles sees it every time he's heading to the paddock. Lando notices when she looks at her old Ferrari shirts. Max can seem to pull her head away from trying to figure out who did leak the information. Terrified it could hurt Seb and Charles more if the same person is able to do it again.

Max had even made a statement about it along with Charles. Neither of them being heard.

She's basically glued to Lando now. The McLaren garage her new safe place since corners are now seemingly dangerous. They welcome her in with open arms. Lando enjoys sending pictures of her to their group chat, much to her displeasure.

Seb is the one who catches wind of redbull not having a second driver yet. Silly season in full swing with the German moving to Aston Martin, Carlos moving to Ferrari, and Daniel coming to McLaren.

He's over bugging Christian within minutes. Max being dragged with him.

"Just give her a chance. You trusted me once and I wouldn't lie to you. It could actually hurt my career more if you let her drive." Pleads the German.

Christian turns to Max. "Have you seen her drive?"

"Yes, and I can confirm that she fast."

"I'll Gove her one test drive to prove it."

Seb and Max are smiling in excitement. Max is rapidly texting the group. All of them cheering in the message stream.

A week later, she's able to test drive an older car. They geared her up. Her nerves settle in as she slips her helmet on and slips into the car.

All the boys are there to cheer her on. There are a few skeptical looks from people here and there, but they don't say anything.

She fires up the engine and waits for the go-ahead. Her mind fires up as well. Her fingers are getting every piece of information from the car she needs to get the best out of it.

Then engineers release her, and she drives out of the pits. Starting a slow lap to learn the car and track.

She lets small images in of what could happen. A possible spin on her third lap that can be avoided by staying on the inside of the turn. She's flying by lap three and is able to correct the mistake she saw herself make.

Her lap times are gradually getting faster as an engineer gives her data and things they want her to try.

It's not perfect, but she's fast, and she listens. She takes the corrections she's given and gives some feedback of her own. Even asking questions here and there.

She's signing the papers that afternoon. Seb having looked over the contract with her since she doesn't have a manager herself.

She calls Hanna first. The older woman practically screams into the phone, and the kids are chanting her name.

The boys are all over her that night. The four of them celebrate her monumental achievement. The smile doesn't leave her face all night.

The off-season is back, and she is busier than she's ever been. Max had to force her to set up every social media account under the sun. The PR team are attempting to get her out there so she dosent go into the season a stranger.

It's weird posting updates about her life for strangers. Though she will admit it is fun to see what her friends and partners post.

It's a controversial subject. She is hardly known and did a little racing prior but nowhere near the amount she should have to be in Formula 1, and she's female.

Some fans have taken a liking to her, and others are ripping her to pieces. She's incredibly glad the boys are there to help her navigate the shark infested waters of the internet.

Speaking of the boys, they've been trying to let her come to them. The guilt that's been eating away at her is showing in everything now.

Her smile drops when she thinks nobody is looking. She's struggling with simple daily tasks. She been more reserved than normal, and frankly, it's scaring them.

Lando decoded he wanted to try his hand at a new recipe, and Charles decided he wanted to be a menace in the kitchen. Max and their female quarter are lounging at the table.

Max is trained to notice small things. He has to as part of his job. So when her eyes flicker to the pocket of her blue zip-up, he knows something isn't as it seems.

"Is your jacket more interesting than me now?" He pokes. Trying to make light of her gloom and ease her into opening up.

Her eyes winden the smallest bit as she shakes her head no too fast for his liking. "Just distracted, sorry."

He can't take it. His instincts are clawing at the back of his mind that something is wrong and her jacket it the answer.

He throws himself over the couch, grabs her jacket, and then plops himself right back down next to her. Lando's frustrated wails echoing in the kitchen as he does so.

"I know something is bothering you and it's something to do with this jacket. Now, either I'm going to find out via investigation, or you can tell me." He quirks his eyebrows at her in a questioning look.

She's shaking now. Her face losing the slightest bit of color. Her hands find her head as the word no falls from her lips repeatedly.

Max places a hand on her knee. "Whatever this is, we'll get through it together, all of us. We want to help you, okay? But we can't do that if you shut us out." He keeps his voice steady and soft. The words he said resonate with her.

She reaches her hand into the pocket and pulls out a letter. Her fingers tremble as she hands it to him to read.

Max takes it cautiously. He can see the panic increasing in her body language. The note crinkled as he unfolds it. His eyes scan furiously over the words.

It makes sense why she's been distant, he thinks. The letter obviously causing her to pull away in case something happened to her.

Max tugs her into his side. "We're not going to let anything happen to you. Honestly, I think Seb may actually start a war if something does."

A ghost of a smile tugs at her lips. "I'm sorry for not telling you. It was just scary how it all happened."

"I understand why you are so scared. Just remember you have three very protective boyfriends who won't let him anywhere near you."

"Seb says he wouldn't be shocked if we get a fifth at this rate."

"Honestly, I don't think any of us would."

The moment is interrupted by shreiks from the kitchen. "Charles! You ruined it!"

Next ->

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab (comment if you want to be added)

349 notes · View notes

alexsoenomel · 1 year

Text

Enough, Enough Now (Joel Miller x Reader Smut)

Summary: Sad reader is a horny reader basically

Pairing: Sub!Joel x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Sub!Joel (oops), unprotected sex, creampie (double oops)

Word count: 1532

Song: Enough, Enough Now by Bad Omens

Note: I’ve never read a Sub!Joel fic so....yeah this happened.

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

You tossed and turned as your mind went into an overdrive. Ever since the world had gone to shit your ability to establish a normal sleeping pattern had vanished and became erratic – even 10 years later you still found yourself tossing and turning in wherever you would find to crash for a night. This time was no different and it was in an old abandoned motel. Joel was sleeping right next to you on his side, facing you. You didn’t want to wake him up, but you craved his touch, his ability to calm you down when you would lose yourself in your own mind. Sometimes you would enter a maze and get lost in it. And sometimes it was just stress – stress that was given to you by this brand new world, wrapped with anxiety and occasional panic attacks. Even 10 years later it would still come in waves.

Your eyes started to fill with tears as you covered your mouth with the palm of your hand trying to hold back the cries that desperately wanted to come out. You didn’t understand it. Why? Rationalization was how you would defend from the endless pit of negative thoughts and feelings that came with this brand new life. If you had an explanation why you felt a certain way, you would feel a lot better and it would pass quickly. Pass or repress? The same thing.

Now you didn’t have an explanation. You were mentally stuck in one place making yourself shake and cry for no reason.

Why am I crying?

You were wiping your tears, engulfed in the complete darkness of the room as you felt a hand around your waist pulling you closer. The thing that finally gave you away was the sound of your nose sniffling. Joel knew your relationship with sleep was unstable, especially since he could relate. Sleep wasn’t his best friend either. He knew what not being able to sleep could do to someone – he hadn’t had a decent night of sleep ever since his daughter died.

"Are you okay?" You heard him whisper. His voice seemed deeper, more rough than usual.

"Not really."

You turned around, wiped your tears and kissed him as hard as you possibly could. He kissed back immediately, cupping your face with his hand as you climbed on top of him, your lips not leaving his. You could still taste the whiskey you two drank a couple of hours ago on his lips. You needed him, all you wanted to do was forget – forget the world you were living in, or rather surviving in.

You broke the kiss as his silhouette was gazing at you, inches away so you could feel his alcoholic breath on your face. He moved your hair behind your left ear as it was falling on his face.

"Baby-"

"Shhh! I don’t wanna think about it. Kiss me!" Before he could say anything you placed a finger on his slightly chapped lips only to move it seconds later to kiss him again. The kisses turned into a full blown make out session, making you hungry for more. Your hands were exploring his body until one settled between his legs, feeling his already hard cock which turned you on even more. You were eager, needy and pathetic. You knew that but didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him and forget, forget your existence. You wanted to be sucked in pleasure by the man you shared everything with.

A moan left your lips as you felt his fingers in your panties, feeling your already wet and pulsating core.

“God, I love that sound!” He whispered as he moved your hair back and buried his lips in the crook of your neck, knowing damn well it will drive you mad. And it did.

He knew your body like his own, knowing which buttons to push, what places to kiss and bite – he knew them all.

Your patience was running low as you took his face, forcing him to look at you. His eyes were like two stars shining in the darkness of the universe, studying each line of your face.

"Will you make me cum, Joel?" You whined in desperation. "I." You positioned yourself on his cock as you slowly started to rub yourself on it. "Really." Each word that left your sinful lips was a thrust.

"Want."

"To."

"Cum."

Joel was slowly losing himself in you. Everything you did he liked, but telling him what to do he liked the most – he would never admit it to himself, hell he would never admit it to you, but sometimes he was exhausted from being in charge. He was tired and you were happy to take over.

"Can you do that, please Joel?" You asked him before kissing and biting his lower lip, making it sore and sensitive. Your words were like poison to him and he couldn’t stop drinking it.

"Can do that baby… " His whispers became heavier as you kneeled between his legs, took off his boxers and positioned yourself on him. You didn't sit just yet, his tip was touching your entrance making him grow impatient and needy – just the way you liked it. You leaned in and kissed his neck whispering how good he is. His skin reacted to your words with goosebumps – you didn’t even need to touch him to make him whimper and fall apart under you.

"What do you want me to do?" You asked him inches away from his face.

"Sit on me!" He groaned in frustration.

"Beg me! I wanna hear it!" You demanded. The only thing better than Joel's moans was him begging you to satisfy him – which didn’t happen often. You enjoyed seeing him in that state, all hot and bothered being desperate, especially since he had such a strong presence as a person. It turned you on knowing no one can make Joel Miller plead or boss him around, besides you.

"Fuckin’ hell baby! I'm going insane here, do something! Please!"

"Oh really?" You teased with a smirk on your face, while rubbing yourself on his tip a little bit more. God, he was hot. Even though you could barely see him, desperation was written all over his face.

"Ye-yes, please!"

"God, I love when you beg!"

You slowly sat down while your hand was holding his cock, feeling just how big he was. He was stretching you as you moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure going through your whole body. You could never get tired of that.

"Fuck!" He finally got what he wanted.

"Do I feel good?" You asked, slowly starting to move up and down establishing a pace. "Do you like when I'm riding you?"

"Yes, baby! I do!" He said holding on to your hip bones as your pace became faster. You desperately wanted to cum. You needed it.

"You feel so fuckin’ good! Fuck!"

It was euphoric, intense and you could feel your orgasm approaching.You were too sensitive and horny, so every touch, kiss, thrust would set you on fire. You were slowly starting to lose it. Your nose was pressed against his, occasionally swallowing his moans with each kiss you gave him. You stayed like that inches away breathing each other, like oxygen wasn’t enough for you to survive.

“Joel.”

You were getting closer to coming undone and completely falling apart. Hearing Joel’s groans and the way he gripped your hip bones – you knew he was close too. You took his thumb and put it in your mouth as you started rubbing myself while riding him. You loved his fingers, they were long and thick…and would give the best orgasms.

"—fuck!" He said before taking out his thumb out of your mouth and kissed you hungrily practically wanting to devour you whole. You felt the pleasure build up in the lower part of your stomach – it was coming.

"I'm close." You managed to say. Your pace was fast and steady. He was hitting just the right spots that way.

“–baby! Fuck I–"

You could feel it. Your whole body shaking, his name never leaving your lips as you balanced yourself on his legs with your hands, back slightly arched. You came all over him.

You didn't want to end there. You wanted him to cum too. You wanted to see it, to hear it – so you didn't stop moving – not until he came too, filling you up. He dug his fingers in your flesh even harder as his orgasm came in intense waves.

When you both came down from your highs a little bit, you collapsed right next to him.

“Oh God I needed that!” You confessed, trying to catch your breath.

You were covered in sweat and in haze but finally out of that endless hole of nothingness your mind liked to take you sometimes.

“Couldn’t sleep again?”

“Yeah!” You moved a little bit closer to him resting your head next to his shoulder.

You stayed like that in silence before you both drifted back to sleep. No ‘I love you’s were exchanged, no ‘good night’s… Most things were left unsaid between the two of you, but were nonetheless already known.

138 notes · View notes

wolven91 · 10 months

Text

The Predator Café - Chapter 7

(Trigger Warning: Violence, Injury)

Panic, rage, fear and white-hot fury swirled within Natasha's chest.

The outside world began to fade out until all that was within her sight was that remnant of clothing that was unmistakably her friend's as the edges of her vision became a black halo around this tenuous link to Pip.

She could hear naught but the roar of her heartbeat as she began to hyperventilate.

The next thing she was aware of was being inside the Café, standing in front of her boss. She watched herself as if from above near the ceiling; she demanded if he'd seen Pip enter, he was denying this and shaking his head. She could see herself asking if he was certain. The man confirmed that the smaller Prey entrance hadn't been opened since the lunch time rush.

She 'blinked' and was already halfway home in a full sprint.

Their voice, crystal clear, repeated in her head. '...your 'Prey' won't escape...'; her blood boiled and her jaw ached from clenching her teeth.

Bursting into her home she stalked from one dark room to the other, pacing in impotent rage and fear.

She stopped at the kitchen, the cold pasta still sat in a pot on the hob. Her mind cleared instantly; Pip was in danger and she had to protect him. She was getting him back, there was no doubt in her mind for a single second that she'd get him back or she'd pull their god-damned spines out.

She'd have to be smart about this.

The police were as useful as an ashtray on a motorbike. If she rang them, they'd turn it into a hostage situation that would leave Pip in even greater danger. Her lawyer had even said that they'd never retrieved any of the previous victims alive...

“...fucking ghouls ate the evidence...” she realised with horror.

Her lawyer though? She was capable; she could call in the cavalry while Natasha bought them time on the inside. Natasha had never been one to sit on the sidelines when someone else was in trouble; especially one of her own. She'd learnt over a long childhood in the slums that sometimes one had to take things into their own hands; to stack the deck in their favour.

Their whispering came back to haunt her from the darkness that surrounded her; 'When you’re ready, go to the sub-station near the park. Knock once.'

“When I'm ready? Oh I'll get ready boys. I'll be good ‘n ready...”

===

Pip woke in a cloying darkness that made it hard to breathe.

When he did try to take a deep breath, pain lanced through his side causing him to flinch which only hurt the mammal further. He tried to remain still and take damp shallow gulps of air as he came to realise that he was contained within a sack of some kind.

He assumed he was on the floor as it was hard and cold beneath him. He thought it would be better for whoever had him to believe he was still unconscious so made a point to remain as still as possible while he tried to listen for voices or a clue as to what was around him.

Panic bubbled just below the surface, it threatened to rise up and drown him if not for the mantra that he repeated to himself that just had to keep calm and he would find an opportunity to escape. His entire childhood had been training him through established methods of how to keep safe in a world that wasn't a Prey's.

Many of them were pointless now; stay in lit areas, stay in communication with people, arm yourself. His best hope now was to find a chance to get distance between his captors and either hide where they couldn't reach him or out run them.

A nasally voice, moving closer to where he lay, broke the silence.

“Do we know if she's coming?”

A gruff voice replied a moment later.

“She'll be coming, sooner rather than later. I don't know much about these Humans but they don't look like the kind to give up on Prey.” A mirthless chuckle escaped the gruff voice. “If I haven't missed my mark, I'm willing to bet she'd chase this meat for forever.”

The nasally voice seemed unconvinced and to Pip struck him as a minion rather than a mastermind.

“Yeah, but what if.. what if she-”

“Shut up.” The gruff voice stated flatly.

“If she does anything stupid then we'll have to react to it. This may be your first time dealing with this, but this is how we recruited before. If these humans are what we think they are, it'll be easier to get them to join Predators like us than anyone else.”

“But boss, they aren't exactly discrete, she's taller than you even?”

Pip had used the term 'feral' before in jest or flippancy, but the growl that came from the gruff voice triggered a primitive part of his brain, it was a deep seated fear that ran through his body.

If he didn't get free, he was going to die.

His thoughts were interrupted by a third voice, this one came from further away as if they weren't in the same room as the other ones that had spoken so far.

“Hey boss! She's coming! She's.. got a pipe?”

“You two, go hide in the other room. You two with me, when she gets in, stand either side of her. I don't care what's she's armed herself with, if she fucks around we'll show her that we're the real Predators here, not this 'equals' nonsense...”

===

Natasha marched with confidence towards the substation that sat just outside the limits of a public park. It was a small structure, no larger than her front room and without a second floor she questioned whether it would be able to hold any more than the group of three that had told her about it in the first place.

There was something she didn't know. Either this wasn't their base or there was something she wasn't seeing yet.

It didn't matter; this was her single lifeline connecting her to Pip, there weren't any other options.

She had prepared herself as best she could, it had taken longer than she had wanted it to, but without a timeline she had hoped they had meant they'd keep Pip 'safe' until she could make it. Hey lawyer had assured her that she would inform the police, but begged her not to do anything rash.

Walking up to the substation door, she knocked a single time and stepped back away from it. A weird 'secret knock', but who in their right mind would knock on a door once? She shrugged to herself, it didn't matter; she just had to get inside.

The door unlocked from within as a bolt slid free.

“Come in, Sister.” A familiar voice said from the shadows, this was definitely the place. She steeled herself as she stepped into the 'lion's den'.

Inside a creature that resembled a Weasel hoped down off a crate that had served as its perch to look out of the small grime encrusted window. Normally Natasha would do her best to recall their correct designations and species names, but it didn't even register. She was appraising him; weighing him up as to how quickly he moved, how heavy he was, did he look like he could handle himself? Her time in the slums had given her enough experience to gauge how dangerous a person actually was.

This was a creature that looked like they used; speed, claws and teeth to win their fights. It gave her a toothy grin which faltered immediately as he noticed her expression and flinched from looking at her directly in the eye. He gestured lamely to the metal bat that she gripped in the middle with one hand while avoiding her gaze.

“You- you can't bring that in here... you can't be armed.”

“Ya’ think I'm gonna’ go into a room of Predators unarmed? Do ya’ think I'm stupid?” She snapped back at him, she'd expected to be challenged, but with just a bat she'd be able to talk her way through. Bluff that they wanted her here, not the other way round.

“But.. you..”

A voice called out from deeper within the structure, further away than what should be possible.

“Let her in, she's one of us...”

She gave the weasel a withering stare as she tapped the bat against her hip impatiently.

He ducked his head and retreated to the end of a grey electrical console. It dominated the single room that was the substation, but when he and Natasha rounded the far corner, a metal bulkhead jutting out of the ground was swung open presenting a ladder down into what Natasha assumed was the sewers.

This was not going to plan; she had no interest in going below ground, especially with what looked like a manhole cover that could be sealed closed between her and the rest of the world.

“Ya’ live in the sewers...?” She said disdainfully as she grabbed the ladder and began to descend before anyone could question her resolve. As she reached the bottom of the ladder, a serious voice, which gave her the impression of the ringleader, greeted her.

“Welcome sister. Yes, we may technically live in the sewers for now, it won't be long before we bring our vision of the galaxy to the wider city and world above. We and now you, are not alone with our desires-”

Natasha tuned him out as he continued to drone on, seemingly loving the sound of his own voice and getting high off his own horseshit. She noted that he was a Canid, black and brown colourings with a body that spoke of time at the gym, but he was small, shorter than normal canids. A runt? Either side of her sat two more, totalling four so far, one a felinoid that looked like she'd seen better days with the scraggly pelt of tawny fur and bald spots in her hide. Her partner on the other side of the room; a draconian, was thin with black for the majority of his scales but with blotches of deep red in a chaotic pattern across his visible flesh.

Natasha continued to observe the room as the ringleader went on about a 'new world order' by talking about how it was 'better in the old days'. She could sincerely feel her brain cells dying as he continued to regurgitate words that must've sounded impressive to him but imparted no actual meaning to anyone paying attention.

The room was a definitely part of the sewer system, but it appeared unused based off the floor and walls being clean of any sign of previous water or sewage, it was however, littered with the signs of usage by people; bottles and empty food packages lined the walls along with various boxes and half burnt candles scattered about haphazardly. The room itself was wide and open, the ceiling was however, almost too close for comfort to Natasha, but she gauged that she would be the tallest here by at least a head; only she would have to worry about hitting head against the humming strip lights. The end of the room, behind the ringleader's chair, had a divot in the floor for sluicing liquids away and a tunnel that cut across the room, leading deeper into the sewer system, it made the room into a 'T' shape, preventing Natasha from seeing around the corners into either direction of the tunnel.

She was in look, these lot looked like dregs, deformed and stunted. Was that their reasoning for eating people? They didn’t have the strengths of their brethren so they attacked anyone weaker?

The canid who was currently sitting at the opposite end of the room to the entrance ladder was occupying an aged leather chair that had somehow been brought down into the space. Saying that the only other visible seating in the room were several crates, it struck Natasha that this canid thought himself above those who followed him. The crates that served as seats were reinforced as such as they were each surrounded by empty bottles of beer or cans. What was interesting is that there were more available and visibly used seats than members present.

'Maybe 6 of them?' Natasha thought to herself as she realised the ringleader was winding his speech up as he was now standing with arms wide as if addressing a grand cheering crowd rather than skulking in the goddamned sewer.

Her bat 'tinked' against the cement floor as she dropped her grip from the middle of it, to the handle end and she flatly began.

“Wow...” struggling and failing to pretend any longer.

The sickly canid brought his gaze from the ceiling down to her, lowering his arms down to his sides lamely. Her lack of applause was disheartening to the man. He genuinely thought he'd improved his delivery of that speech.

“Jin, give us some privacy.” He shouted past her; the metal portal she had climbed through closed with a slam and grating lock.

'So much for their plan; my turn.' She smiled to herself, she hadn't been relying on any back up if she was honest with herself. It was always going to be her versus whatever unfortunately bastard that thought they could take her Pip.

“You fella’s took something from me. I want it back.” She demanded with a stony glare. The canid held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Peace Sister, we only grabbed it so you could enjoy it without anyone suspecting you and so we could all meet. We're glad their meddling didn't get you arrested properly before you could enjoy its succulent flesh.”

The felinoid piped up in a tone that Natasha assumed she meant in a supporting manner.

“It smells so sweet, I can understand why you chose it. I can't wait to sink my teeth into it properly...”

Natasha gripped the bat harder, her knuckles turning white.

“I will not 'share' Him in any way, shape or form. Not with y’all or anyone else, do ya’ understand me?”

The canid gave the human an award winning smile as he tried to reassure her.

“Oh you must understand, until we have enough to go around, we all must all share our prey. We each can support each other, we are a fami-”

“Show me him now.” Natasha cut off the canid. She needed to know he was alive. As long as he was alive she would help him live a life even if he wasn't whole.

“You're right, you're right! Of course, we've taken your food from your mouth and are trying to negotiate while you have no evidence we're sincere. Granc! Bring it out here now!”

From one of the blind-corner tunnels, another runt of a canid appeared with a lumpy sack in one hand. Like the felinoid, this one had mange and looked thin or sickly. He handed off the sack to the ringleader who reached in the bag.

A heartbreaking squeak came from within as he grasped and pulled Pip out in one harsh movement. Natasha's ache from her jaw came back, she could feel her bottom left eyelid begin to twitch with the effort of keeping her face neutral.

Pip looked scared and hurt. The Canid held him by the back of his neck, Pip had grabbed the larger creature's fingers in an attempt to ease the pressure on his body. He had dried blood over his face and he wasn't breathing correctly, as if he couldn't draw in a full breath. His fur was bedraggled and damp, he looked awful, but he was alive and awake; that was enough for Natasha. As he blinked in the sudden change of light, his eyes focused on Natasha and his face showed shock, surprise and fear.

Whether fear for himself, fear 'for' her or fear 'of' her, Natasha couldn't tell.

It didn't matter, he was alive and she was keeping it that way.

“Hand him over.” She demanded again.

“No, we've been more than welcoming to you and we've only received hostility in return. It's time you decide to join us or not.”

“As I said before; He. Is. Mine. I will not be sharing him with anyone, let alone pretend Predators such as y’all.”

This got a reaction from them, the two who had been sat either side of Natasha stood and came closer to her, well within range.

Good. Get cocky, get in close.

“Pretenders?!” The ringleader said incredulously.

“Oh, ya’ disagree? Ya’ll not predators, none of ya’ are! And yet ya’ think ya’ll good enough to take what's mine?! Ya’ bottom feeders! Ya’ll haven’t brought down anything that could actually give ya’ a run for ya’ money. At best, ya’ll opportunistic scavengers and ya’ done fucked with the wrong human.”

As the canid breathed in to retort, Natasha didn't wait to hear any more drivel from him.

She grasped the opposite end of her bat in her spare hand and drove the handle into the ribs of the black and red draconian as hard as she could, utilising her whole body to add force into the jab. The dull 'crack' echoed through the room from the bipedal lizard’s torso as he crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. She let go of the business end of the bat to swing it in a full circuit, so the felinoid received the full brunt of force that swept the bat from down by her feet right up and into her jaw. Her head snapped backwards in a whiplash inducing motion before falling away and clutching at her face, the scream that came from it was more raw emotion than anything coherent.

At a glance the draconian had fared little better as he remained on the floor trying and failing to gulp air that simply wouldn't come.

The spare runt canid came from the front as he grabbed at the bat with both hands, Natasha was pushed back a moment before moving her arms in a violent jerking motion to push the bat squarely into his snarl, breaking his front teeth. He was stunned for a moment allowing Natasha to follow up with a second strike with the middle of the bat with little resistance. The front of his muzzle crumpled slightly as the majority of his front teeth disappeared when they broke in half and blood burst from the ends of his nostrils.

As she pulled the bat clear of his hands, she swung the handle to hit him in the face in a short pivot, it was then that Natasha was blind sided as she was tackled to the floor by a green blur.

The green blur slashed at her face where her cheek immediately began to burn and ache. The new geckin, previously hidden around the other blind corner, reared back, jaws agape to clamp down on her exposed neck. He was small, but still sharp. As he lunged downwards, the act was arrested by the spiked choker she had donned before her arriving at the substation, preventing him from being able to close his jaws around her throat completely.

Normally she would only wear the spiked collar when going to a concert or other event where she could dress as dramatically as she liked, but she had feared that without something to defend her neck and wrists, she may have been vulnerable to this exact attack. The 'camo' geckin tried to close his teeth around her and pull, but the metal and leather left his attack ineffective and more damaging to himself than Natasha.

As he straddled her, she drove a knee up into his crotch as hard as she could before grabbing the creature and rolling to the side, dragging him beneath her in a reversal. She proceeded to pound into his face with both of her fists; her adrenaline allowing her to wail away into his jaw, cheeks and eye sockets. It wasn't until a kick to her ribs from a new assailant, forced her to roll away with a wince into a low crouch and her fists raised to defend herself.

The Ringleader stalked around his fallen compatriots, the geckin wasn’t moving.

“You idiot! Do you not understand?! We're the only ones in this city that appreciate your desire! You're denying yourself it's flesh!”

Natasha was beyond words at this point, her rage fuelled her onwards; the slight movements of her Pip in the corner of her vision willed her to tear this dog’s head off.

She reached back to retrieve her 'back-up plans' from her back pockets. Slipping the pair 4-ringed brass knuckles over each of her own she stalked forwards towards the enraged alien.

The wild haymaker he threw out was easily redirected; it was trying to disembowel her, but Natasha gave back a quick jab into his chest rather than a grander response. He was shorter than the average canid by a significant margin, but no less dangerous, to underestimate him would be to defeat herself. He took a step back before pushing forward again, he then threw out a series of clawed slashes that did no more than bounce off Natasha's guard as she allowed his assault uninterrupted. The spiked bracelets that donned her wrists, jabbed and gouged at his own forearms weakening his attack as he could simply flail at her. His assault was feral; strong and violent, but without finesse. He’d been used to being the larger one in past conflicts, his self-assurance was evident in his lack of form or skill.

Her initial plan was to allow him to punch himself out, with his inability to end the fight by numbers or taking advantage of an exposed neck, he could only batter himself against her stalwart defence. He had a moment of inspiration however by throwing out a punch into Natasha’s gut slipping through her guard. She doubled over in a moment before twisting at the hip and using her elbow to slam into the canid’s face. He flinched and stepped backwards blinking away stars as his sensitive muzzle burst in a small geyser of blood.

Natasha’s ‘rope-a-dope’ plan was thrown into disarray however when, as the two circled each other, Pip appeared from behind the Ringleader and drove a screwdriver into the flesh of his calf with a rebel yell. Crying out and collapsing to one knee the canid successfully aimed a sweeping backhand that launched Pip deeper into the room away from the brawl.

Natasha saw red at Pip being struck; defence gave way to pure, livid hatred.

Before the canid could prepare himself, he was attacked by a true ‘Predator', one that dredged an icy dread from deep within him; a feeling he was not aware that he could ever experience, one of a Prey.

The metal covered knuckled came up in a south-paw upper punch that snapped his jaw closed and put the former Predator on his back. Natasha pounced upon him to batter solely into his head and whilst the sieged creature attempted to bring his arms up to defend himself, Natasha simply pulled his arm out of the way to land an uninterrupted hit square into whatever was in the way between her and the floor.

This continued for a time, a cathartic, raged filled therapy for Natasha as she paid him back for the upset and harm he had caused for both the Human and her Pip.

It was only when the creature had stopped moving that the drive to hit it drained from Natasha and a sudden overwhelming need to find and protect Pip returned.

Natasha got off the still breathing but bloodied meat that now laid thoroughly tenderised and scrambled over on all fours to the caramel furred mammal that remained still in a heap. She gingerly picked him up; he was still breathing but limp in her arms. She rushed over to the ladder out and turned the handle that would open the hatch once more, it had been locked from the inside.

When she unlocked it fully, the hatch was opened immediately by the collection of law enforcement officers that had crowded around the entrance to the subterranean lair. They however flinched back at the sight of the haggard and still enraged Human crawling from the depth with her face covered in blood. Whether this was her’s, Pip's or anyone else's, none of them knew, but they retreated to allow her to pass and leave the substation. The officers then climbed down the ladder to arrest the occupants within, they had heard the violence from within and expected the worst. Aside from a variety of heavily injured occupants, they were all still alive, albeit some only just.

===

As Pip came back to the waking world, his environment had changed significantly for the better.

Beneath him was a soft mattress that supported his body gently, while the bed itself had his upper half slightly raised. The pillows beneath his neck and head were softer than his own back at his dorm, he thought mildly as he opened his eyes and began to blink the burring away.

Before his vision returned he felt a weight over his shins, heavier than the thin sheet that covered the majority of his body. Hovering over him was a fellow Prey dressed in the uniform of a nurse. Her whiskers twitched as she smirked down at him as she adjusted a bag with clear liquid inside that was connected to his arm via a tube.

“Welcome back Mr Warin, so you are aware; you've been asleep for the best part of two days, but should make a full recovery shortly.”

He blinked and croaked in response from his incredibly dry throat. He tried to swallow to refresh himself as the nurse, satisfied with her work, walked around the bottom of the bed where he suddenly noticed the form of Natasha.

The medical ward he was in was obviously designed for creatures smaller than Natasha; the items, fixtures and beds were all a more ‘normal’ size to Pip’s perspective. However, even slouched as she was, Natasha took up an alarming amount of space, practically overtaking the bottom of his bed where the top half of her slept.

‘She must be sat on the floor while hunched over the bed’ Pip thought to himself.

“We moved the other patients once she refused to leave. The others were distressed despite it being on the news.”

“She refused… What... what was on the news?”

“Her rescue of you Mr Warin? Whatever the misunderstanding was the day before, word is she single handedly removed the beginning of another feral Predator ring. The reporters had followed the parade of police and reported it live. When she appeared like an angel of death, but carrying you; people didn’t know what to think.” The nurse shook her head.

“Tokens of praise and apology have been arriving whilst you’ve both been here. They are starting to take up too much room. I would have raised a complaint if not for the fact that everyone is still hesitant to stay in a room with a human…” The nurse continued, gesturing towards the entrance to the room where a pile of gifts, flowers and tokens of various sizes had overtaken one wall.

“Now you’re awake, I doubt there will be any need for you to stay much longer. You were suffering more from sleep deprivation rather than anything physically wrong, aside from some nasty bumps. We have however stitched up the claw marks on your back, although it is likely they will scar, and your fur may not return.”

Pip thanked the nurse before she retreated from the room to follow up on her other patients. Looking down at the blonde beauty, he recalled what he had seen down in the sewers.

He had described her before as a force of nature, when he had laid on top of her chest and listened to her heartbeat. Now he knew this description was too understated. She had been truly terrifying, her speed went beyond what was right for a creature at her size to be able to move.

He had felt the impacts of her hits, the reverberations of the strikes had made him wince with each blow. When she had been taken to the floor and the Saurian that had been hidden away tore at her neck, Pip had feared the worst.

But nothing could stop her, she was a tidal wave of anger, of something primal... feral, even...

Pip winced at his own thought, that he'd put her in the same category as those brutes.

Placing a small hand into her hair he stroked it through the silken mess. She looked tired, the three gouges in her cheek looked deep and were held closed by white stitches. If he had scars on his back, those would absolutely scar and all because he got into a mess he should have avoided.

His heart broke at the idea he had led her to harm.

A wordless groan of being pulled from sleep escaped her throat.

"Morning beautiful..." Pip whispered.

"Pip? Pip!" She exclaimed, waking up fully and rocking the bed in her attempt to straighten up.

"Ya’ awake! Oh I'm so sorry Pip! It's all my fault, if I'd just left ya’ alone ya’ wouldn't have been taken or threatened and everyone-"

The cascade of apologies and worry that spilled forth surprised him, he was expecting to be the one that was to apologise not for his saviour to best him to the punch, so to speak.

"...Natasha." He said simply, stalling her mid-sentence.

"Sorry." She said meekly.

It didn't suit her.

Pip hated the idea of her not being herself, but he wanted her to say her piece, it was important to her so it was important to him.

"I don’t believe there's anything for you to apologise for, but if you disagree, I accept your apology and want nothing more than to hear nothing else on the matter..."

Her shoulders slumped, as if he had single handedly removed the weight of the world off her shoulders.

“...its me who should be apologising."

"No, thats not-"

"Let me finish... please." He quietly begged.

She fell silent and waited for him.

"I knew better, you didn't." He began with a sigh. "There are... expectations of what is ‘normal’ of you and me, of a Predator and a Prey. But you weren't aware of these and shouldn't be and won’t be held accountable for them. I was, and I deliberately ignored them so I could selfishly spend time with someone I found exciting... Even when I knew and was duly warned, that it would all end in tears.”

He closed his eyes in confused shame.

"I came back and encouraged you because I found you attractive Natasha, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, even though I knew it was more than likely that nothing good could have come from us spending time with each other. This whole mess is because I didn’t do what I was supposed to…” He couldn’t look at her right now, he had to tell her the truth, to make her understand that she was free from blame, and he wouldn’t hold anything against her when she defended her social standing by leaving him behind. Especially after he had intentionally undermined hers for his lust.

Humans were new to the whole mess; how could anyone blame them? Not him, he would never blame her.

“What a crock.” Natasha stated flatly, Pip snapped his head up in confusion. “Do I not get a say? Ya’ think I didn’t know what people might say when we waltzed off together? Don’t be making assumptions that I’m jus’ some wallflower who ain’t gonna’ say nothin’. Ya’ people got some ‘expectations’, just like everybody else in this universe. Ya’ think I haven’t had to clash with ‘expectations’ before?”

She ‘huffed’ and shuffled closer to the top of the bed before reaching out a hand to hold his chin between her large fingers.

“If I didn’t want to see ya’, I wouldn’t see ya’. If ya’ want to see me, I want ya’ to come see me. And there ain’t nothing anyone else is gonna’ say or do that’s gonna’ change this.”

She released him after making her point and looked away.

“…’Expectations’ my ass. Thought I got away from all that nonsense...” She mumbled to the empty ward.

“So… we’re, okay?” Pip asked, he was stunned she would not only disregard any issue but made him feel slightly put out for attempting to assume the responsibility over the matter.

“I’m frustrated Hun’, but all this has done is tell me that I need to get ya’ home and teach you properly; just how much ya’ mean to me, ya’ daft thing.” She said with a smile as she gazed back to him, putting an elbow on his bed whilst resting her chin in her hand. Her other hand came round and gently ran over his body over the thin covers.

“I think we need to start addressing things directly, no more beatin’ round the bush. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.” Squeaked Pip.

She leaned forwards, her face now dominated his vision. The soft closing of her eyes prompted Pip to do the same as his arms reached up to cup her face as her fingers curled around the back of his head with her nails scratching through his fur. Her lips touched his and whilst her bottom lip gently pressed against his own, her top lip brushed and pressed against his nose due to the difference in their sizes.

His world was one of softness and peppermint. This is what ‘heaven’ had to be like.

===

The journey back to his dorm was uneventful, but while he packed a bag for a stay away at Natasha’s Geegee was beside himself at the idea that Pip ‘hadn’t learnt his lesson’. Pip rolled his eyes and ignored him.

He understood his opinion, it took a verbal slap from Natasha for Pip to also give up on the social contract himself, he’d just wait for the geckin to come round and begin talking to Pip again. He vowed to be there for him when or if he did.

Once they got back to Natasha’s, Pip’s things were placed on the desk while Natasha whisked him off his feet and landed on the bed; laying on top of him and assaulting him again with wet kisses, some pecks and others lingered. He returned the favour; Natasha could feel the small wet pecks across her skin as he tried to match her ferocity.

“Hun’, I hope ya’ ready; because I’ve been waiting to eat ya’ up whole since ya’ walked into my Café.”

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #chintian #haso #hfy #humans are space orcs #Trigger Warning: Violence #chipmunk #size difference #sizeplay #sizetumblr

125 notes · View notes

vampsquerade · 1 year

Note

Ghost helping a male reader through a panic attack please🙏🙏🙏🙏

i will certainly try my best anon, thank you for requesting!! sorry it took me so long to get to this, i’ve had a lot of unnecessary and downright bullshit delays that caused me to hold back on writing as much as i do. also i hope you don’t mind but i did kind of tweak it a little and decided to use my own personal symptoms of PTSD (even tho the one i’ve been diagnosed with is a bit different)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ghost x Male!Reader: A Ghost’s Aid

Trigger Warnings: angst with a happy ending, PTSD, panic attacks, hyperventilation, uneasy feelings, traumatic memories

Life in and of itself is forever cruel. Countless years in which this cruelty has been seen and those most affected by it suffer its effects forever. Experiencing them yourself as your task force worked alongside the 141 and Los Vaqueros and previously with Shadow Company against Al-Qatala, you had developed a difficult reaction for certain situations that caused you to react too quickly. You would find yourself eventually with a diagnosis of PTSD after Graves’ betrayal as well as being separated from Johnny and Simon. Hours of the 24 hour cycle constantly passed within the 365 days of the year and you spent most of them awake out of fear of reliving that night in your dreams. Rainy days especially made it worse, often forcing you to stay inside until the storm was over and done with as you dealt with an episode on your own.

However, this time you would find yourself to be dealing with one in the presence of somebody else: Simon “Ghost” Riley. Though he wasn’t exactly the emotional type, you knew he still cared about everyone around him. You had just been hiding in a corner, hands clutching your head as you laid there panicking. “Y/N? What’s going on?” Simon asks, coming out of the room you were letting him stay in and into the living room where you were hiding. “F-Fuck…Simon please help me…” you whimper softly, hyperventilating terribly as you’re finally getting over that clearing. Grasping the situation a bit properly now, Simon then comes next to you and carefully sits you up and checks you all over for any wounds. He sees the bullet wounds you had gotten all that time ago, and gently grazes them with his fingers.

“It’s a hell of a thing, isn’t it?” Simon mumbles softly. He had begun to carefully and gently rub your back in a way to help you calm down. You simply nod, unable to form words as you continue to hyperventilate while attempting relaxation. It would take you an entire hour to finally calm your entire body down and regulate your breathing. “I’m sorry you had to see that…I wasn’t expecting rain…” you whisper. “It’s no worry, don’t apologize for anything related to your disorder. Anything you need right now?” Simon asks. “Wanna share a cuppa?” you ask. He gives you a nod accompanied with a slow blink before standing up. Simon obviously gives you a helping hand as well, helping you walk a little until you feel like you can on your own.

“Thank you…” you mumble, going and washing your hands before grabbing teacups and your teapot to transfer the boiling water into once it’s done. “So what’s in the cabinet then?” Simon asks as he takes a seat at your table. “I only have Earl Grey.” you say, opening the cabinet and grabbing the small box of authentic Earl Grey tea leaves. “I reckon I’m quite alright with that.” Simon says. Smiling a little, you nod and lean against your counter as you wait for the water to boil. “How often does any of that happen? The thrashing and hallucinations.” Simon asks out of genuine concern. “It happens when it’s raining the most and in my sleep, but that’s only sometimes…” you say, crossing your arms against your chest and sighing. “I see. You’ve got a prescription?” Simon asked again.

You pipe up a little, “Reminds me, I’ve gotta take a pill.” you say. “Have you eaten though? I know some medications require you to eat before you take them.” Simon says. “Yeah. I had already eaten beforehand though so I’ll be fine.” you say, walking back over to your cabinet and taking out your pills. You take one and sip some water from a water bottle you had around before going back to where you had been previously standing. The atmosphere of the kitchen grew a little tense, causing you to become unnerved and intimidated by Simon’s presence and intense gaze. “You’ve been suffering alone, haven’t you?” Simon suddenly asks, cutting the thick atmosphere.

Unable to look him in the eye, you just stand there and keep your gaze away from his own. “Look, I’m not the best with words and never have been—you can ask us for help.” Simon says. Though his voice doesn’t sound too reassuring, you know it is. Hell, the man guided both you and Johnny towards him once Graves betrayed you. It’s okay to trust Simon. “What if my panic attack gets really bad? That stuff was just mild—it’s so much worse.” you say. “Then let me help. It’s not like I haven’t saved your ass countless times; what’s so different about this?” Simon asks. “I don’t want to burden you.” you say, finally meeting Simon’s eyes. “Don’t give me that. I know you’d do the same for me.” he says. You stay silent for a moment, contemplating what he just said.

“You’re right…it’s just…I feel like I don’t deserve it. I knew the shit I was getting into and for fuck’s sake I thought I was going to die that night.” you say. “I helped save your ass then as well. Let me do it when we aren’t in the field. No protests, that’s an order.” Simon says sternly. “But-“ you pipe up only to be interrupted by the hardened man, “But nothing, I’m going to help you. Am I understood?” he says. You remain quiet, sighing softly as the tea kettle begins to whistle as it has reached completion of boiling the water. “I asked you a question and I expect an answer, Corporal L/N.” Simon says. “You’re understood…” you say as you take the kettle off the heat. “Atta boy.” Simon says.

The man then stands up and carefully takes the kettle from you, pouring the water into your teapot with the leaves to allow for it to steep. “What makes you want to help me?” you ask genuinely. “Don’t quite like seeing a teammate continue to potentially hurt themselves like this. I know it’s not your fault and you can’t help it, but you can always ask. No harm.” Simon says. “I see. Well cheers, Simon—I can’t really express how grateful I am that you want to help.” you say, lightly punching his shoulder. “It’s really nothing to thank me for. I’m just being a decent person—for once.” Simon says, rolling his eyes a bit and scoffing. You can’t help but smile, giving him a nod. It felt nice to have someone to rely on, even a scary dog like Simon.

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw22 #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #angst fic #male reader #cod task force 141 #task force 141

319 notes · View notes

detectivesvu · 2 years

Text

Exhaustion and Affection

Sonny Carisi x Fem! Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2.4k

“Of course. You need a decent meal that isn’t just a cup of coffee.”

Sonny hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Sonny was tired.

He felt the fatigue all the way to his bones as he shuffled to the front door of your apartment. The travel from his office to home had felt like an eternity, and sometimes with New York City traffic, it might as well have been. Sonny had the weekend off (technically – but there was always the chance of the infamous Olivia Benson phone call), and he was desperate for it. The past few weeks had been long for the esteemed counselor. He was strung out and spread thin with work, and he just didn’t have much juice left to give.

He had shed his blazer before he had even left his office for the night, and his tie had been loosened on the cab ride home. His hair that was usually neat and styled was wrecked on his head from his hand running through it throughout the day. He had officially clocked out until Monday morning (or unless prompted sooner).

Sonny felt a rush of relief when his feet landed at the mat in front of your apartment door. That was his signal that he had indeed made it, and his weekend off had officially begun. He reached for your spare key that you had gifted to him in his briefcase. Sonny felt like he never spent any time at his own apartment anymore.

He rummaged through papers and files before recognizing the cold brass on his fingertips. The key was rather worn for a spare, but it wasn’t surprising considering he used it practically every day. He put the key in the lock and turned it, alarmed when the click didn’t sound. There was hardly any real panic of a response because this was a regular occurrence.

Sonny scoffed under his breath, tossing the key back into his case and opening the already unlocked door. He entered your apartment, which offered warmth from the cool October air outside. He then noticed a certain smell, one of his favorite smells, that brought an audible rumble to his empty stomach. He closed the door (being sure to lock it behind him), and set his belongings by the front door. He followed the heavenly smell into the kitchen, and he was presented with a sight that nearly catapulted his heart out of his chest.

He saw you standing over your well-used stainless steel pot that was reserved for any and all pasta dishes that you knew how to make. He saw a separate pot with a lid over it, which he knew good and well was a tomato sauce. He knew the smell of good pasta, and he especially knew the smell of one of his mother’s recipes.

He noticed that you were still in your own work clothes, which let him know that you hadn’t been home very long yourself. The clicks of Sonny’s shoes hitting the tile caught your attention, and you turned around to greet him.

You gave him a happy hello, but he decided to get the hard business out of the way first.

“Sweetheart, you gotta start locking the door….even when you’re home.” Sonny warned, and this was not the first time that he had done so.

“Ah. I forgot. I need to start leaving a note on the inside of the door to remind me until I get in the habit,” You shrugged. “But even then I’d probably forget to look at it.”

“I know this is a well-secured building and all. And I know your neighbors are clean but-”

“-you never know.” You finished his sentence, and he couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Sonny’s concern came from a good place. He had seen too many horrific things to not notice the small things that could potentially put you at risk to the evil of the outside world. It only made sense that he was so concerned.

“Now. How about a proper greeting?” You smirked. “Hi.”

“Hey, doll.” He laughed.

“You’re home somewhat early.” You noted, glancing at the clock that read 7:30 p.m. on the dot.

“I couldn’t take it anymore. There wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait until next week,” Sonny groaned. “Besides, I have the weekend off so why not start early?”

“Mm. Agreed.” You elbowed his side playfully, and he continued to peer over you as you stirred the spaghetti noodles.

“What are you making?” He asked.

“Carbonara. Nothing special,” You shrugged. “I just figured a simple dinner for tonight would be best. If you want something else, I can order takeout for you.”

“No, no. Carbonara is perfect,” He kissed your temple. “Smells great.”

Sonny really was hungry. It seemed that he had fallen into the ways of a real New York criminal prosecutor by skipping meals in order to get more done. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning, and he had used the last of that energy long ago.

“I hope it tastes okay too. This is only the third time I’ve tried your Ma’s recipe.” You chuckled.

“It was delicious last time. Dare I say that it was….better.” He whispered the last word just below the shell of your ear, and your face ran hot.

“Dominick!” You gasped. “That is nearly blasphemous.”

He laughed a genuine, hearty laugh that brought some life back into his tired body.

“All I’m sayin’ is that my mother has taught you well.” He snickered. “You need help finishing up?”

“I don’t think so. Do you want to get washed up?” You suggested.

“You read my mind,” He joked. “Be right back.”

Sonny left the kitchen and took slow steps to the bedroom. He removed his shoes before stepping on the carpet, setting them next to the dresser so they would be out of the way. His socked feet felt better after being released from the confinement of Sonny’s leather work shoes. They had served him well, but no matter how much he wore them, they still weren’t the most comfortable shoes in the world.

Sonny’s blazer and tie were officially abandoned on the bed, and he’d be sure to take his jacket to be dry cleaned. He removed his belt and unbuttoned his shirt, stripping his clothes to prepare to change into something more comfortable. He was more than happy to change into a t-shirt and sweats, and he was even more glad that he didn’t have to wear his usual business professional attire until Monday morning.

Sonny padded into the bathroom, stopping at the sink and turning it on. He lathered his hands with soap, noticing how tired he visibly looked in the mirror. He knew that he had been working hard the last several weeks, so he wasn’t shocked that it had caught up with him. He rinsed his hands and splashed cold water on his face to wake himself up. All he wanted was a good meal and a night of leisure. God knows he needed it.

Sonny returned to the main area of the apartment, his excitement peaking when he saw that you had already plated dinner for him and were just finishing setting the table. Sonny sometimes felt guilty when you doted over him like this. He didn’t feel like he deserved it most of the time, but it made him only adore you more than he already did.

“You’re too good,” Sonny gushed, walking over to you for a quick kiss. “Thanks, doll.”

“Of course. You need a decent meal that isn’t just a cup of coffee.” You told him.

You were always on Sonny’s case about eating legitimate meals every day. You didn’t like when he came home late every day after skipping lunch. And even then Sonny usually only settled on a measly dinner.

The two of you sat across from each other at your dining room table. Sonny never complained, but he was far too tall for the small table. You had been meaning to search for one that didn’t cause his knees to be pressed up against the bottom of it. Sonny couldn’t have cared less though because he was only focused on the plate of pasta that was screaming his name.

Sonny barely even waited for you to sit before he began to dig in. Sonny was usually very polite and well-mannered at the table, but with the way he was slurping down his noodles – you would’ve thought he’d never been taught dinner table manners. He was chewing through the heat and hardly even chewing before he swallowed.

“Sonny, honey!” You stopped him from literally choking himself to death. “It’s not going anywhere, and I assure you I’m not going to take it from you.”

Sonny paused to actually chew his current mouthful and took a moment to compose himself before he spoke again.

“Sorry,” He chuckled, a little embarrassed. “I’m even hungrier than I thought.”

“There’s plenty more. Promise,” You caressed the calf of his leg with your foot from under the table. “How is it by the way?”

“Incredible. As expected,” He smiled. “Best meal I’ve had all week.”

“How would you feel if I told you that I have a coconut cream pie for afterwards?”

Sonny’s fork his hit plate with a clink, and his eyes went wide with surprise.

“You’re lying.” He gawked.

“I swear. I didn’t make it though. I bought it on my way home.” You admitted.

Sonny went quiet for a second. His eyes squinted in thought as he racked his brain.

“Did I miss something? Not our anniversary, not my birthday, not your birthday….” He listed off.

“Not at all,” You giggled. “I was saving it for tomorrow since I knew for sure you’d be here for dinner….but since you’re here now, I don’t see why we can’t have it tonight and tomorrow.”

Sonny was overwhelmed with love. It wasn’t that you didn’t shower him with affection like this often, but it definitely made it extra special considering he had been so rundown recently. Sonny was happy as could be sitting at that tiny dining room table, enjoying your food, and catching up with you. Sonny had missed seeing you and spending time with you — and it always reminded him how work could drag him away from you.

Once dinner was finished, and your chilled pie was being served, Sonny felt completely at ease. He had absolutely nothing to do until Monday morning, and he wasn’t even sure what to do himself.

“How’s the paperwork coming along?” You asked, scraping the last of the sweet cream from your dessert plate.

Sonny couldn’t help but groan.

“Babe, if you don’t mind, let’s not talk shop tonight,” He chuckled. “Please.”

Sonny’s request hadn’t been an irritated one. If anything, he was amused. He was usually more than willing to talk about work with you (considering that it was a great opportunity for him to vent to someone who could understand), but tonight he wanted to get as far away from it as possible. He was passionate about his work, but even then he could only take so much.

“I’m sorry,” You laughed. “Just a habit. Do you want more?” You asked, standing to retrieve his empty plate.

Sonny stood from his own chair, refusing to let you clean up alone.

“No, love. I’m good,” He kissed the crown of your head. “Thank you.”

Sonny helped you with the dishes, washing and drying and putting away to leave the kitchen clean for the night. Cleaning up with Sonny usually took double the time that it should’ve because he had a tendency to get distracted. You found it rather amusing because that was just how Sonny was. When the dishes were cleaned and stored away, Sonny pulled you into his chest for a kiss.

“You’re the best. You know that?” He hummed.

“I’ve been told a time or two.” You smiled against his lips.

Now that you were looking at him up close, you could see just how weary he looked. The lasting effects of stress were clear on his face.

“You’re tired.” You pointed out, burying a hand in his graying hair to scratch at his scalp.

“Very,” He nodded, his voice gone groggy. “How about a movie?” He kissed you again.

“Sure. Can you stay awake for it?” You asked.

“Very funny. ‘Course I can.”

Sonny had meant it. He wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with you on the couch under a blanket and spend the rest of the night doing nothing in particular. Sonny felt like he had been stuck at his desk or in the courtroom for weeks. Your apartment felt like the safest place on Earth to him right now. Sonny smiled lazily when you took his hand, prompting him to follow you into the living room. Sonny crashed on the couch, the plush pillows were a celebration to his tired muscles. He needed the rest.

“I’m going to change. How about you pick?” You suggested, offering the TV remote to him.

“Sure. Don’t be long.” He winked.

You tottered off to the bedroom to change into your own lounging attire, leaving Sonny in the silence of your living room. Sonny stared at the black screen of the television. The remote remained still in his hand. He hardly even had the energy to lift his thumb to hit the power button. It seemed ridiculous, but the thought of scrolling through Netflix to find a movie just seemed like too much work to him.

Sonny was sunken into the cushions, nearly being swallowed by the sofa as he stared at nothing. It was so quiet in the room. So still. So peaceful. He heard you rummaging around in the bedroom, but it was like white noise to him. Before he knew it, his eyelids were growing heavy, and his breathing was reaching a slower pace. Images of the last few weeks danced around in his head. The fast pace of his career had suddenly come to a stop, and he was basking in relief. Sonny had come home to a happy girlfriend who had fed him and taken care of him in his exhausted state. He had never felt more loved. And that was the best feeling to dream about.

When you returned to the living room clad in your most comfortable clothes, you weren’t surprised to see Sonny snoozing. You had a feeling that he wouldn’t have made it long once collapsing on the couch. He worked hard to pursue his passion, and that was something you never got in the way of. It wasn’t surprising that his work caught up to him at times. If anything, it was a reminder of how hard he worked.

It didn’t bother you in the slightest. Sonny needed the sleep.

After all, you knew that he hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x fem! reader #sonny carisi x female reader #sonny carisi x you #sonny carisi x y/n #sonny carisi one shot #sonny carisi oneshot #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi imagines #sonny carisi fluff #sonny carisi fanfiction #law and order: svu #law and order svu #law & order: special victims unit #law and order fanfiction #law and order svu fanfiction #detectivesvu

398 notes · View notes

quandaryqueen · 1 year

Note

He has a serious relationship with S/O who has a kid. After some time he helped the kid with something and they went "Thanks dad." Without realizing.

Riddler BTAS, YJ, Arkamverse

Thanks dad

Edward Nygma X Reader

FIRST OF ALL THAT'S PRECIOUS OMFG 😍

💚 Young Justice

Children? Oh he fights them on a daily basis... He can't say that, can he? Ahh, fuck.

Look, he is one desperate cookie and those who glance upon him, he is latching himself to them faster than you can blink, regardless of who they are. A ten is still a ten even if they have a child from a previous relationship, he is willing to take any baggage, child included... N-No, he didn't mean to call the child a baggage--

Oh kids... Yeah, he doesn't really have a positive thing to say about them, especially when they're certain inconvenience that will render his plans collapsed because of them... But it's your child, they're an exception.

The little thing is tolerable for sure. A bit hyperactive, but what child isn't? A six year old who has a lot of question for the world, confused about socialising but his heart is at the right path.

Guess what their name is... Robin. An energetic gymnast with a penchant to ask plenty of questions, a known witty ass... Um yeah.

NO WORRIES, HE DOESN'T — ahem, he doesn't hate the boy at all! Even if he shares striking similarities with the boy wonder, he's checked just in case... Though sometimes he doubts himself, but then he is reminded that, in fact, Boy wonder Robin is no longer six years old, whereas Robin-Y/N's-son is only six years old.

Anyways, Edward picked up Robin from school for today and they greeted you with a concerning sight; your son holding a bloody handkerchief to their nose and your Edward's shirt bloodied with, presumably and hopefully, your son's blood... That is phrased wrong, but you know what I mean, right?

Edward then explains to you about Robin failing to secure himself in his seat and one abrupt halt after an encounter with a dumbass driver, your son was sent hurling forward and slamming his face against the seat in front of him. Oh Edward, our sweet Edward was a nervous wreck and it went a little something like this:

"Oh my god are you okay, buddy? Oh shi--oot. Oh no, oh no, oh no."

Edward bends back over the backseats, but to no avail, he resorts to leaving the driver's seat and entering the back. He nervously inspect your son, wincing when his fingers touched and stained with blood, but he pushes through his squeamishness and pinches Robin's nose, all the while, his free hand hunts for his spare handkerchief.

"Am okaaay," Beams your son with a nasally voice, his big eyes identical to yours looking up at Edward. "That's a lot of blood."

"Oh no, Y/N's going to kill me!" He squeaks, finally able to get a hold of a handkerchief before using it to pinch your boy's nose.

"Yeah, blood is hard to get off a white shirt... And it's brand new." Oh bless his heart.

"Whatever you do, don't tilt your head up," Edward says, absentmindedly wiping his bloody fingers on his shirt before reaching for the bottle of sanitiser in the glove box. Luckily, he spots a bag of wet wipes and opts to use it instead. "Give me your hand."

Robin puts a hand out and Edward got to work with ridding the red from Robin's fingers and palm. Robin switches to his other hand and Edward does the same. During the act, even in concentration and panic, Robin's nasally voice does not slip his ears.

"Thanks dad."

.... Augh 😫

💚 Arkhamverse

Children are not his thing, he'd like to stay away from those fussy miniature humans with underdeveloped minds as much as possible... But he is making an exception with this one that happened to be his favourite person's daughter.

At first he was a touch tense around your daughter, opting to lean away and at times, dismiss them as much as he can, until you scolded him to include her as a package that comes in the relationship and if he doesn't want that, then he should drop the relationship all together. Apparently he loves you enough thay he began to be less dismissive of the child.

... he supposes your daughter, Helen, isn't that bad. She's tolerable unlike other children. Curious little thing, fidgety, and a bit timid. At first she too was afraid of Edward, sensing that she isn't wanted to be dealt with, until he himself began warming up to her that the nine year old began to open up as well.

Peaking from the threshold of the kitchen, you spot Edward who had just crawled out his development facilities and freshly bathed, sitting across the counter from Helen as she moves between to the surface of the counter and the stove where a pot is boiling. Tipping your head upwards, to see a chess board on the countertop.

You remembered how Helen brought up yesterday she needed to enhance her puzzling skills to compete against other schools. She had only recently developed an interest to puzzles thanks to Edward and specifically towards chess.

"Are you sure that's your final move?" Edward asks after Helen has placed a piece down on the board.

Helen, upon being greeted by this question many times, began to analyzing and questioning her move. Noticing what he is implying, she takes her move back and places her piece elsewhere.

"Good. Remember, during a real chess match, you can't just hope your opponent does not capture your piece."

"Okay... Thanks dad."

Edward's game plan to destroy the child with a checkmate once again has been thwarted with a single word. Dad... DAD---

Short circuiting. Give him a moment to process. He got knocked off-guard so hard he lost to Helen. Well, she can't just call her opponent's 'dad' to catch them as off guard as Edward now can she?

💚 Batman the animated series

He is selective when it comes to children. On the other hand, he had made a demographic out of younger groups of people and kept them in mind when it comes to developing video games and on the other, he can find a few of them as obnoxious and he actively turn away from them just so he could act out the urge to smack a child.

But your daughter Meri was nothing but am absolute dear, Edward couldn't help but to simply adore the precious little babe! A polite young lady who is a touch playful and is an absolute delight to talk to! Edward couldn't help but to want to spoil the girl! ... If you'd allow him. Can he? Okay, not too much, just this Gameboy.

Meri doesn't play videogames all that much but when Edward introduced her to a Gameboy, oh boy, he might just make a gamer girl out of he. I mean, since the man has also the intricate knowledge about programming, he might get her interested in it as well! The process of which Edward was teaching her now to be accustomed with playing with one is something they bond over, at times where Meri couldn't bear a certain level she would tug in Edward's sleeve and ask him to help her out.

How could he say no to the face that resembled you??? Tasks and agenda are now thrown away, we must beat this level of Super Mario Bros. It will cost him his career as a Internationally renowned threat as a rogue, but he says it's worth it. Why, you may ask?

"YAY! Thanks dad, you're the greatest!"

Among the influx of emotions, the only implication of the absolute joy he feels inside leaks through his soft smile and he pulls your daughter against his chest and pats her head.

#edward nygma #riddler x reader #dc x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nigma #request #young justice riddler #young justice riddler x reader #btas riddler x reader #dc x you #btas riddler #arkhamverse riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler #patisilence

186 notes · View notes

loser-jpg · 1 month

Text

being sad somehow makes me write damn good shit, so heres even more hurt/comfort LeoDee. I need to write these two happy sometime. (this takes place before 'bad day' and early on in their relationship)

Leona wasn't sure what to do.

Here he was, the boy he was supposed to be able to protect and take care of in front of him, yet said boy was crying.

He'd seen Dee cry before, but not like this. He'd see him tear up at an injury, and had seen his eyes get watery on certain occasions. But right now the Ramshackle prefect was sitting on the ground of his dorm, sobbing uncontrollably.

Grim was curled up in his lap, somehow able to do more to comfort him than Leona, despite also seemingly frozen in shock.  

It was previously a normal day, save for Dee not appearing at Savanaclaw after classes like he usually did. Typically Leona wouldn't have bothered, but something felt off, especially since Dee had given no heads up about not visiting. So Leona decided for once he'd visit Dee himself. Which led to the current situation.

After a moment of useless standing, finally Leona moved, crouching down beside his lover, softly grabbing the sides of his face, though there was hesitation behind his actions.

"What is it, whats wrong?" Leona's voice came off more concerned than intended. He aimed for comforting, but a bit of panic still seeped it's way into his words.

Dee let out a choked sound, lifting his arm to his face to attempt to wipe the teary mess temporarily. He sounded sick when he spoke, "You ever been in a situation where you really need to cry, and have every reason to cry, but you can't because if you do then people ask what's wrong and when you're inevitably forced to tell those people you know they'll just make things worse-"

Leona wasn't sure where Dee was going with this, but he supposed getting him to talk was better than nothing.

"So then you keep not being able to cry even though you keep needing to cry until you finally are in a situation where you can cry, even though you don't need to?" Dee's voice had become more stable as he talked, but as he neared the end of his sentence Leona could hear him getting choked up again.

Leona could figure out the rest on his own from there, "And that's what this is? You're just crying about old stuff since you weren't able to before?" Leona almost chuckled, it seemed silly, but also made sense. He was able to calm down, at the least, knowing there was no immediate issue.

Dee nodded, laughing through his tears, which made Leona laugh lightly too. Grim was however, not so amused.

"Mrah! That's all this was?! Stupid hench-human you had me think something was wrong!" Despite his words the cat kept himself firmly planted in Dee's lap, opting to pretend to be less concerned than he truly was.

"Aww you cared about me~" Dee sniffed again, his tears slowing down, "you pretend you didn't but you care~"

"Alright whether the furball cares or not it's time for him to leave." Grim yelled in protest and Dee gave Leona a deadpan look as he picked the little monster up and removed him from Dee's lap, pulling the man towards him as he sat down.

"Wow. Rude."

"I see you making no efforts to keep him." Leona was right, of course. Dee fully allowed Leona to pull him away from Grim, and Grim seemed to get the message, as he was already on his way out of the door to Dee's room. Leaving Dee and Leona sitting on the floor in front of Dee's bed.

The two of them stayed silent a moment, both seemingly unsure of what to say. "You...sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I am, thanks."

"Alright, that's all I need to know." Leona pulled Dee closer, resting his forehead on Dee's shoulder from behind. "...though if you need me to do anything for you..."

Dee snickered a little, and it comforted Leona to see him bounce back so quick, "I mean it Leona, I'm fine."

"I can still do stuff for you even if you're fine. Though I have to admit it'd probably be easier to get me to do anything if it was because you weren't fine."

"Snrk- To be expected from you, huh?"

"Mhm." Leona hummed into Dee's shoulder, the last of his concern leaving, now replaced with slight discomfort at sitting on the old wood floor rather than the only slightly softer bed right behind them.

"...crying made me tired."

"Your eyes are all red now."

"I know, I can feel it."

"You can feel that they're red?"

"I can feel that they're puffy, dummy. You know for someone so smart you say some silly things."

"Oh yes, out of the two of us I'm the one who says silly things."

"Yeah well you're the smart one and I'm the silly one, so leave saying silly things to me."

Leona chuckled, before finally growing uncomfortable enough to move the two of them to Dee's bed. Leona had planned to wait until Dee fell asleep, but surprisingly enough he was extremely truthful about being tired, and fell asleep within a minute. Though Leona decided to wait a bit before going to sleep anyway. Just to watch him for a bit.

#twst #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #dee :3 #leodee #losers writing

7 notes · View notes

lnc2 · 1 year

Text

i know this won't sound like a revelation and i mean maybe it's not because of course i've known i've been living it but like

pet death is so fucking painful and real and constant

like losing rory was like losing a part of myself and even when i was at my worst (hospitalized) i still felt guilty for being so distraught and even though it's been nearly six years this december i'm still so easily triggered and can be set off if i'm not expecting certain reminders or anniversaries and like

yeah a bunch of other things happened around that time and the way it happened really cemented the Trauma and deeply embedded it into my body but i don't cry for my pets from childhood the way i do for rory

and i think about losing toby and i just... can't handle it?

and i've finally accepted or believe even though i've always Known it's because they're with me always. like your pets, especially the ones that are v present and interact w you in a v real way and are so smart and have their own personalities, they're yours, they're your kid, they're your best friend

i don't spend time with anyone the way i spend time w my dogs. i told/tell them everything, i schedule my days around them.

good morning toby, how's my boy, are you hungry, did you sleep well? i have a doctor's appt today, i'm anxious about this, can i have a hug? do you want to go to the park? let's watch a movie, i have to go out of town but i love you, are you feeling okay? do i need to take you to the vet? am i just being crazy? is this my trauma or my instincts telling me you're sick?

every year with him is one more year without her and one more year closer to being without him and just

i grieved rory the week she died before the accident even happened just sobbing like i'd lost her even though i had no reason to and didn't even know why i was crying and then i lost her bc no one believed me when i said she was sick and i didn't advocate or fight hard enough for her until it was too late.

so now toby slips when trying to jump on the sofa or sighs too much or his nose is runny or whatever and i'm on the verge of a panic attack and calling my mom to make sure i'm not being crazy before i schedule an emergency vet appt and just how do i know what's my trauma and what's my instincts? i don't know when to trust myself anymore all while knowing i can only trust myself.

i'm neurotic about his health, his environment, who he's with. if i can't have him in a place i can 100% control and guarantee is safe then i want him with people i know will take his safety as seriously as i do because they know if something happens to him i will lose it, catastrophically, wholly, entirely.

there are ways rory is still with me that are good and then there are ways that are very much... not.

idk if it's just because it was her and the how and when of it all but the end result was just complete and total devastation of my entire world. and i know it will be the same with him so even though he's happy and (hopefully please god hopefully) healthy i spend most of my time worrying that i'm not doing enough even though all he wants to do is to lay at my feet and play tug of war.

maybe it's bc i live alone, but idts i was crazy about her even when we lived w roommates, and i know i'd be the same with toby and i don't even know if i could trust someone to live with us anyways because would they see all the potential disasters as naturally as i do and make sure nothing happens? would they care like i do?

idk. rory's birthday was this past week and i was so exhausted from wedding stuff i don't think i was feeling any of it consciously but i'm feeling it tonight bc anniversaries are really hard even the happy ones, even so many years later.

everything with rory was a fight and a challenge (so so worth it, i've never connected w anyone spiritually like i did with that damn dog) and toby for all his size and sometimes annoyingness and for all that i resisted loving him the first year i had him is mostly so easy even when you think he shouldn't be. idk what it says about either of them but i think the universe sent him to me because they knew i needed a hardy dog, one that was sturdy even though he is a giant baby, and one that would take my anxiety and just let it roll off of him because everything after that left me so so fragile.

i'm sad she would have been eight. i'm said she never saw three. toby is five and will be six. numbers like these play through my head always. i've had him longer than i had her and yet and yet and yet

i keep telling myself i shouldn't still be crying this many years gone but it feels so new and so now whenever i think of her so i try not to think of her (my therapist says it's PTSD) but then i only remember the bad and not the many, many good.

it's okay i'm still sad, or something stronger than that. i love her and that's good and it's okay to cry. toby is taking care of me and i'm taking care of him and hopefully in many many many years they'll take care of each other.

i just needed to get this out, somewhere, i know it's disjointed and doesn't have a point but so are my feelings and i just wanted to acknowledge them even if it was only to myself

#not ml #tw pet loss #not toby just memories #and anniversaries even good ones are hard #now everyone knock on the nearest wood surface for me so i don't jinx anything #also why tf doesn't read more work the first time you enter it and you have to go back and edit a post?

20 notes · View notes

not-poignant · 1 year

Note

You've been getting death threats? 😕 I'm so sorry that's happening to you. I fuxking hate antis man

Hi anon!

Thankfully not for a while now, but it does happen from time to time. I'm generally not targeted as much as some so I fly under the radar a lot, but I do filter out the majority of the hate and weirdness because I just don't see the point having it here / giving it a platform!

I hate how much damage abuse/bullying does, but I sadly can understand how people end up with fancop / anti mindsets, especially when young. It's very sort of logical to go from 'I hate pedophilia (or rape or incest)' (a normal response) to 'I hate anything that causes it (or rape or incest)' (a normal response) and then making an illogical leap to 'people who write about it in fiction deserve to die and I have a right to destroy them because they're basically as bad as the criminals because they create more criminals and are criminals themselves.'

It starts in the most logical place. And I gotta say, people love being able to hurt others under the banner of a sense of righteous anger. When you feel justified ethically, abusing others, you don't have to deal with shame or guilt in the same way as just targeting someone in highschool or college (or in the workplace). Instead you just get to profoundly dehumanise invisible folks in the internet, and feel like that's activism. That's disgusting, absolutely abhorrent, but I do understand how people get there.

I used to get a lot angrier about it on Twitter, and I still do sometimes, especially when I see the direct harm it causes our communities, when it suffocates creators (many of whom don't even want to draw or write this content, but just feel judged and starved out of fandom), or worse, destroys their lives. I'm very angry on behalf of the people who are scared to post fics or art etc. because of the antis in the fandom/s around them, because it's unfair, and it's hard to convince people to just 'post whatever you want' when it's realistic that some of those people will be abused for it.

So yeah, the hatred makes sense too. It's like...indefensible behaviour and so different to just having general NOTPs / squicks / not liking certain ships. But I do sometimes look at folks who take anti positions (especially the ones who don't realise they're doing it, because they're generally permissive of like 90% of stuff including a fair bit of problematic stuff except like One Thing they're triggered or squicked by), and think... 'You've been fearmongered into believing abusing real people is appropriate behaviour, and if you're lucky, you're one day going to have to deal with the shame and guilt that comes from knowing you've actively tried to destroy people's lives online, and have done harm to many vulnerable people in the process. That's going to be a hard journey for you, but if you make it through to the other side, you are going to feel so much better about yourself as a person, and so much less afraid of your own thoughts, and your intrusive thoughts, and it will be worth it, I promise.'

If they're unlucky, they never realise, and then we all pay the cost for someone who just lives in a state of moral panic forever :/

Anyway, for the most part I'm not really hurt by it personally because I a) have a background in university media studies and know that - scientifically speaking - antis are wrong about (nearly) everything they say, lmao, and b) can tell the difference between reality and fiction and know there's not a 1:1 correlation between the two, and c) I've experienced a lot of different kinds of abuse (sadly) and I can see most of it coming from a mile off these days and I'm not going to wear the shame and guilt people try to dump on me, because they're too juvenile or immature to process with and sit with their own discomfort that others are different to them and have different taboo fantasies to them.

Tl;dr anon - I'm doing okay! Antis do a lot of damage. I get where they're coming from but it never excuses their abuse. The hate they send doesn't really affect me these days, which might be why they started to leave me alone more sdalkjs

#asks and answers #purity wank #moral puritanism #there's been waves of it #some of the worst has been on twitter when i've actually stepped into threads of rabid antis to like #gently and academically challenge the outright lies and myths being spread like facts #and one day i was like #i just don't need to do this #especially when i saw that some proshippers there were also becoming very abusive and toxic towards antis #which is not the answer #death threats aren't okay no matter which side you're on #though again i can really understand it lmao #i retreated primarily to tumblr and i'm very careful re: how i curate my spaces #i think my fics are generally tagged well/thoroughly enough #that antis who stumble across it just don't bother #the only antis i meet the most these days #are people who don't know they're antis or carry some of the rhetoric #but use that rhetoric in like...AO3 comments or similar #and if that's the case i'll just gently point out what might be happening #i get so angry on behalf of others instead #fdsklajs but yeah i have had some crappy things happen over the years #but eh the vast vast vast vast majority of folks i meet online #are the very best of people

20 notes · View notes

mmx-code-crimpphire · 5 months

Text

Headcanon - Xev and Axl headcanoned as autistic

AND A LITTLE MORE ON AXL IN THIS!!

I'm struggling coming up with headcanons lately and wanna write other things, so I might stop for a little bit after this one. My backlog of headcanons are a little short right now, esp ones that aren't spoiler heavy, so I'll stop for the moment and focus on writing other fics

Once I'll have more headcanons, you'll know when I post a new one!! Especially the world building headcanons when I write more for the towns!! I might post something I'm planning on writing today which I can finally post a new series on AO3 I've been meaning to make for the past few years!! I'm excited!!

Anyway, have this lengthy headcanon I have a lot of thoughts on~

Half a headcanon for Axl and half not for X just yet, I’m still deciding but

I wanted to talk about this primarily because I wanted some characters I can relate to in regards to this topic. Plus, either one has tendencies in one having the potential and the other having that kind of vibe period. At least to me, in most regards.

NEW CHAPTER ON AO3

I pretty much viewed Axl mostly with the autism I had in mind. Pretty much similar abilities and disabilities to mine- basically kinda projecting from this character but also making him his own, pretty much canon in his own right, and also kinda tweaking him to what I personally view him as.

We all know Axl is the young and ambitious but risk taking and noble hunter we've known up to X8. But that's basically all we know about him. I'll touch on his backstory sometime when I finally start the bio series for these characters.

But point is, that's all we know, and we don't have anything else to go off of except for our headcanons of him and depict it best we can from the source material. And this is my take on him besides the autism headcanon: He's a young adult and very ambitious, but from what he's learned from Red himself and his team of wannabe Maverick Hunters, he learns to adapt to his delta nano powers, gain close friendships and learn what his goal and purpose would be in life. Especially after certain events in his life that change it drastically. One that brings him into Red Alert into the first place, and years later after something happens to his found family.

He had to rush to the Maverick Hunters and rush for help in a panic when he couldn't face whatever was happening, and he was torn apart until he got to meet X and Zero in person. Except they're going through something themselves that he eventually had to get into the middle of. Especially bonding with Zero and trying to talk to X, which doesn't work.

Basically kind of a reverse scenario with Iris talking to Xev while Axl talks to Zero more in depth. And I do mean the key words being "kind of". Since Zero briefly talked to Iris, and he didn't need much talking to, for Xev, he needed budging. Whereas with Zero and Axl, he definitely needed that push as well down that time in the main story.

And he helps bring X and Zero back to their realities they needed to face and they, of course, face the big baddie head on. Which won't be Sigma, but I won't spoil who else ;3. Especially after this, he starts gaining a heart of gold and has another found family he can protect once he takes his powers and training more seriously. So he won't lose that second found family like he did his previous one.

Anyway, yeah that's what his general character is like in the AU, now for the Autistic headcanon. I don't know exactly where I got it from, other than I KNEW he had the vibes for it. So I slowly implemented what he would want as a stimulant, what he hyper focuses on, what his hyper fixations will be, what his sensory issues are, etc.

To which, I list that he stims with rubbing his thumbs, squishing things, vocal stimming and rocking. Either in a rocking chair or swinging. He gets a swing later on when his autism is being made more aware of in Hunter Base. He hyper focuses on what he vibes with and what he wants to do in that moment.

Anyway, what his hyper fixations/special interests would be, is he would wanna write music and play on his electric guitar. He loves stimming to softly playing and hearing the electric chords, btw. He loves doing it. He also hyper fixates on German Rock and hard rock from the 80s. Such as Def Leppard. he's a HUUUUUGE fan. Rick Savage, the late Steve Clark, and Joe Elliot are his favorite band members. He feels connected to them, and sometimes feels sad that he can't meet them, being he's in 21XX/22XX, and they're all long dead by then. Unless someone makes reploids out of them if their minds are preserved in data ;3. But, continuing on, he is OBSESSED with music theory and wants to write his own songs. Zero wants to write songs and has music theory down to an absolute tee- however, he won't know how to condense his deep love and feelings for Xev. He asks Axl for help, and they both collab and write a song together, which helps Zero gain an extra boost of experience in writing songs, which gives him the chance to write another song condensing his feelings for Xev for their wedding by writing "Only One Blue Jay in the Sky". What they both write together is called "Bird Wings Glide".

I’ll probably make another headcanon when I get the details down on the songwriting process of the two and Zero’s feelings and possibly the lyrics to what they’d be like in another post, maybe.

Another special interest he has is squishies. He loves to squish things, as stated previously, and squishies are his number 1 go to for that. He also loves pushing buttons or tapping on things. Especially when he loves making certain noises that tickle his neurodivergent A-Chip. He also loves remaking them. Repurposing them into something and making them into his own style he loves to make into art. Yeah, if you couldn't tell, Axl actually loves watching Moriah Elizabeth on Youtube lol. Don't worry about if youtube's still a thing or not, idk if I wanna figure that out for the AU at all yet lmao.

His sensory issues would be with smell and texture from coconuts, human bones (like basically touching them, especially the marrow), soapy water with grease, seeds in jam (yes, I said jam, not jelly), large crowds (especially when they touch him unprompted), sitting still without able to stim at all (I'm debating on headcannoning him with ADHD as well, haven’t decided yet), textures that feel rough (in his words, "icky", which I feel that, man) when rubbed the opposite direction of a texture he loves feeling. It's a very complicated one we both feel tbh haha

Anyway, that's all I can name at the top of my head, I'll probably make a list specifically to both his and Xev's things they have troubles with.

Which, speaking of Xev, it's still a more up in the air kind of thing, since I'm still not sure. This headcanon kind of spurs from a friend's headcanon I got from, @curtashiism specifically. They had an X that was headcanoned autistic and I really liked it cuz he had the potential to have autism, and it made the most sense to me so I figured I'd think about if I wanted the same thing for mine.

But I'm still unsure about it, really, even if I'm leaning towards wanting to do it. So, if I ever fully decide to go that route, I'll post the list of stuff he has trouble with, as well as his strengths in terms of what he loves doing, etc.

I hope y'all liked this post/chapter and felt connected in some way, cuz I def sure do~. Anyway, that's it!! Hope this was also a fascinating read~.

#vincent rambles #code crimpphire headcanons #headcanons #curtashiism #ayyyyyy friendo it's been a hot minute since I tagged you!!#headcanon - axl being autistic and xev having that potential

6 notes · View notes

leaveherwildliketheflowers · 10 months

Text

Conversation with my therapist went like this:

T: We have had a lot of space between appointments this summer. How has that felt? Do you want to go back to a weekly cadence or do you think that it's better to space out our appointments going forward?

Me: Um, am I supposed to feel a certain way about that?

T: Well, yeah. You are in a different place than you were the last few years. You talk more in session than you used to. I know there are still things you don't bring up but you generally utilize your time better.

Me: .....

T: Think about it. We can discuss it more next week.

Y'all, I'm shook. This summer has been CRAZY with destination weddings, vacations, federal holidays and now being sick. As a result I saw T once from June 5th to today. I just assumed it was part of summer schedules and we would go back to our normal weekly cadence. Stepping down to once every 2 weeks wasn't even on my radar. Honestly, I feel like I'm just now adjusting from going from twice a week to once a week.

T is all in my head now though. Does she not think I need weekly therapy? Does she not have time for me in her schedule and this is her way of gently pushing me out of her case load? Is she just tired of working with me after 4+ years? Does she really think I'm ready to scale back on addressing my mental health?

Is this what happens if I make any sort of progress? I mean, in some ways I'm doing better. I have learned how to handle my grief with more success, though sometimes it still gets the best of me. My eating behaviors are under control at the moment. I'm generally being kind to my body. These are all the "safe" things that I talk to T about. At the same time I'm still really struggling in a lot of ways. My grief steam rolls me from time to time. My anxiety is the worst it's been in years, with frequent anxiety attacks happening at the moment. I'm still shit at recognizing and naming emotions, especially now that I have SO much distraction. These are things T knows and we have been talking about in the few sessions we have had this summer.

What T doesn't know is that I have been really, really struggling with suicidal ideation again. I haven't gotten myself to bring that up. I'm just not ready to address it, mostly because I don't know why it's back. I can't figure out why part of my brain is so desperate for an "out" right now, but it came on strong when I went back to work. Now I'm thinking, how in the hell do I bring this up without looking desperate for attention? Saying something now seems like I'm screaming, "I can't put more time between sessions, I'm constantly thinking about k*lling myself! Please don't leave me!" That really sounds pathetic doesn't it 🙃

Also, when I go long periods of time without therapy I block out my emotions because I don't have time to deal with them and without the accountability I won't make the time. Then when I realize, oh shit I'm finally accountable to report on how I'm doing, I panic and get flooded with it all at once. Then I spiral into an emotional panic or completely shut down and that's just not fun.

I'm probably over thinking this. Of course the logical thing would be to say all of this to T but I feel like I can't because any potential relationship conflict with her feels too scary. I really need her to be a safe place when I feel wanted, welcomed, seen and held. Normally I do feel that way with her but this simple conversation has triggered something inside of me. A child part that feels like once again we are being left to fend for ourself when all we desperately need is someone to sit with us in the dark while we cry. This little part is throwing an absolute fit because she is never understood or loved and she feels foolish for thinking anyone ever really cared. She feels abandoned.

Omg the fucking drama. All this mental gymnastics over one stupid question about how I want to spend my time and financial resources. Clearly I'm deeply insecure, I think everyone hates me, and I'm insane.

#personal #therapy rant #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: suicidal thoughts #therapy woes #omg she's insane #I'm losing my mind #this is what my anxiety is doing to me these days #I overthink and overthink and overthink until I break down #also I clearly have some inner child work to do #she is deeply hurt and offended #mostly she is pissed that she believed T understood her #clearly there is a disconnect on how I'm perceived to be doing and how I'm actually doing

13 notes · View notes

invested-in-your-future · 11 months

Note

How would you write Ruby then?

That's the easiest one yet because that's something I have been thinking about since V3 ended.

If I were to to summarize Ruby after V3 ended in one word, it would be "Haunted".

As the V3 progressed and slowly but surely everything went out of control, we saw Ruby and foundations of both her idealism and escapism be genuinely shaken. I have written about it before, really

Basically as rewrite starts, you have Ruby in quite a chaotic state. She's haunted by what happened to Pyrrha and what happened to Penny and at the same time all the other terrible things through her life are also closing in like her vague memories of what happened to her mother.

The fact that her relationship with Yang is "a bit" strained also doesn't help. Yang has always been supportive and cared for Ruby, often at the cost of herself, but now? Now Yang is hurting and she's in no place to do that. One could see it even in V3 finale - their interactions are bit awkward now as Yang is a LOT worse at masking her hurt than Ruby is. So, needless to say, Ruby leaves home on a pretty bad note as far as conversations with Yang go, their final farewell being something that haunts both her and Yang going forward.

So you have Ruby who is unsure of her path, haunted by the terrible tragedies that befell her and also feels like she's been kind of cut off from her support net - relationship with Yang is strained, Weiss left for Atlas before Ruby woke up and Blake just outright disappeared.

As her journey goes on, Ruby is dealing with conflicting feelings - she still wants to be a hero, but she also finds herself willing to do whatever is necessary to protect the people she cares about and also she absolutely wants to make Cinder pay. One would expect for her to find some solace with Jaune going through grief too, but unlike in the show, rewrite Jaune handles grief differently - he finds peace in his memories of Pyrrha and, just like Pyrrha would have wanted, is in the middle of of trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life and what kind of person he truly wants to be beyond all the fake bravado and knightly nonsense he tried to do before. Nora and Ren are dealing with grief too, but also returning to Mistral adds a whole another layer of worries and past memories for them because there's quite a bit left unsaid between them in regards to their own personal past tragedies.

So even though Ruby is traveling with Jaune, Nora and Ren, at the same time she's also someone who is traversing a dark forest all alone.

She still smiles and she still acts like everything is fine as much as she can, but on the inside she's terrified. Various moments from her life come back as dreams and sometimes they can make it pretty ambiguous on what is real and what is not amidst all the anxiety and panic attacks. Also, especially during stressful situations, Ruby finds it a lot harder to handle her emotions now (because she repressed a LOT of negativity before and what happened kind of broke the dam and you can't just "unbreak" it). She's a lot more prone to displaying anger or acting reckless. Her outfit is in a bit more of disrepair and her weapon is damaged from fighting that way.

Meanwhile, the world doesn't wait - with the transmit system being gone, there's a world war brewing as mistrust grows between nations and also in the corners of the world, dark things are slowly awakening. Oh yeah and also certain girl with a pointy umbrella seems to have dedicated her life in chasing her down and making her life hell.

How does Ruby deal with where she's at right now as far as life goes? How does she handle possible tragedies in her future? Where will she be emotionally when one day team RWBY actually meet again? I think its pretty interesting angle to take.

Thematically Ruby, as protagonist, is the microcosm version of the whole setting and the whole narrative itself, so it makes sense that both the larger world and the protagonist herself would be in a state of terrifying unknown, dealing with grief and lingering sense of dread from everything they experienced.

Each RWBY character is handling Fall of Beacon differently - Ruby finds herself falling apart, Weiss finds her conviction and belief renewed as she views everything around her in a different light, Blake needs to face her past and Yang is picking up the pieces of her life and trying to build some kind of meaning out of them.

#rwby #rwde #rwby au #ruby rose #rwby stuff mine

14 notes · View notes

thefanfictiontaria · 6 months

Text

Light in the dark

Fandom: MCU

Genre: hurt/comfort

TW: suicide attempt, very brief mentions of assault

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Peter was fine, truly. Except for the numb feeling inside.

===

I had a great thought about someone panicking for whatever reason and this was made.

================

[29/03/2024] This fanfiction was posted on ao3 by me. it was slightly edited. new fic here

Peter was fine.

Really, he tried to be.

He smiled through the days. He laughed at Ned’s jokes, he smiled when Aunt May came home. But he never felt it. It was automatic really.

In reality, Peter felt dull.

The monotone routine was exasperating. He knew he shouldn’t feel like this. He has no reason to feel like this. He knows Tony stark for hells sake! He’s Spiderman!

He’s Spiderman.

And he sees so much goddamn death and pain every single day.

Sometimes he’s late to the scene and arrives just as the oppressor finishes his job.

Sometimes he just finds a body and someone running away.

Sometimes he has to see life leaving someone’s eyes.

So he thought, why? Why live in a world full of pain and suffering? For every person he saved, there’s 20 that got robbed, assaulted or died.

He is no hero.

A hero could save everyone. A hero could really smile. A hero doesn’t have problems.

He is no hero. He is useless.

So now Peter stands on the edge of the bridge, his phone and shoes abandoned on the other side of the rails.

He has nothing to lose. The numbness consumed him to the point of no return.

The cold air of November bit his skin, the fog blurred his vision. The surface seemed so far away, but he knew it wasn’t as far as it looked.

He took in a breath, and jumped.

The air was even colder as he fell.

Then he felt a sudden impact.

His back hit the water and it felt as if someone pushed the air out of his lungs.

Then he began sinking.

Panic set in.

He tried to breathe in, but he was met with all surrounding water.

He tried to swim.

Everything hurt.

Why does everything hurt?

It should be painless.

He thought it would be painless. Why does it hurt?

It’s so cold.

He doesn’t want to die.

He has Ned to live for.

He has MJ.

What will they think when they see him dead?

His corpse being dragged out of the river.

Everything hurts.

He doesn’t want to die he doesn’t want to die HE DOESN’T WANT TO DIE

He can see light.

He’s underwater, where did light come from?

Maybe I should swim towards it?

He can’t move.

Why can’t he move?

The light got closer.

How?

Everything is so fuzzy.

Everything is dark.

~~~

Tony was just in his workshop, adding small details to one of his newest tablets. The thing was almost done, but it still needed the tiniest bit of colour to truly feel like a stark invention. Of course it wasn’t just his invention, Peter helped a lot in the process. The kid was very helpful in inventing and engineering a lot of things.

Lately though, Stark has been concerned. Due to spending that much time with the kid he knew certain speaking patterns and behaviours of his. That’s how he noticed the slow decline in Peter’s happiness. He’s been acting less and less enthusiastic for some time.

The most obvious sign that something was wrong when Peter stopped responding to the small remarks by the man. It’s not that he stopped smiling at all, he still gave little laughs and grins, but the light from his eyes was gone. Tony looked with concern at his kid and asked some questions, but it was brushed off.

“I’m fine! I just didn’t get a lot of sleep today, that’s all. I swear!”

Tony got very worried but never thought it would get any worse, he just thought it was seasonal depression.

“Mr. Stark, Peter seems to be in high distress.” FRIDAY boomed through the speakers, breaking the scientist out of his deep thoughts.

“Oh yeah? Do you know why this is?” Tony usually shrugged off the many alarms that FRIDAY gave him on a daily basis, especially the high heart rate ones. The kid was prone to stressful situations, the alarm was installed for the more severe ones. Stressful tests were one thing, but being shot at by one of the criminals he was trying to stop was something that should definitely have a safety measure installed.

“I am almost certain he is in danger, Mr. Stark. His heart rate is unnaturally fast.” Tony stopped in his tracks.

“Well, what is he doing? Where is he?”

“He is on the edge of the Marine Parkway Bridge. He seems to be standing on the other side of the rails.”

“HE IS WHAT?! GET ME MY SUIT RIGHT NOW.” Tony scampered out of his workshop and towards the nearest balcony. He felt the metal engulfing him before he flew out of the tower and towards the location.

“FRIDAY, connect to Peter’s phone, call him now.”

“He seems to have turned off his phone, sir.”

“Shit,” he swore under his breath.

Soon enough he saw the bridge and the small figure of Peter letting go of the rail. He saw the fall.

Tony quickly got to action, flying towards where the figure hit the water and diving headfirst into the dark depths. He saw Peter sink, he saw him shift just slightly. The man grabbed the limp figure of his intern before flying to the surface.

He carried Peter back to the bridge. At first he seemed to not be breathing, which scared Tony, but after a few seconds the boy took in a heavy breath before coughing a few times. He remained unconscious.

Tony noticed the teenager left his shoes, watch and phone on the sidewalk. He then asked FRIDAY for a scan of Peter’s vitals.

“It appears that his heartbeat is irregular and he has liquid in his lungs and stomach." Tony was taken aback by it all. He quickly grabbed Peter and his belongings before flying back to the tower.

“FRIDAY, get the med bay ready for Peter. I want the best staff there right now.”

“Sir, it’s 1 am.”

“I don’t care! Get whoever is there ready for Peter! I am not losing my kid today!” Tony sped up.

When they finally reached the tower, he almost broke the window that was quickly opened for him to fly directly into the med bay before leaving Peter to the doctors.

~~~

Peter’s eyes slowly opened to be blinded by bright white lights. He thought he finally entered heaven, that was until he heard the beeping of a heart monitor and felt the intense smell of sanitizer. He was in the med bay.

“Fuck,” he swore, noticing how dry his mouth was.

He felt a stir to his right. He turned to see none other than his mentor sitting next to him, seemingly just woken up from sleep. The man quickly regained his composure before embracing Peter in a light hug.

“Peter! Oh thank god you’re alive!” Tony let go, just holding the boy’s shoulders. “You got me so worried! What were you thinking?! Jumping off of the bridge, almost like you tried to-“ he stopped in his tracks upon noticing the blank stare Peter gave him. It was blank, and yet so much emotion hid behind it. Sandess. Anger. Agony. Grief.

“Peter, were you trying to actually…?”

The silence was painful.

It was broken by a silent tap of a tear on the white covers.

“Yes. I wanted to kill myself.”

Peter slowly started crying. “I actually tried to… I tried to kill myself. I went through with it. And I lived! I fucking lived! Why the fuck can’t I just-“ he fell sobbing into Tony’s embrace, who quickly accepted the hug.

“Peter… I don’t know what you’re going through, but know this: I’m always here for you. Your aunt is always here for you. Your friends are always here for you. If you ever feel like you need to talk about you emotions, please do. If you need like you need a therapist, just tell me, and I’ll find you the best one in the city. Just, please… Talk to us. Talk to me.” The grip got a bit tighter.

And suddenly Peter knew.

He knew he had people to live for.

He knew he could maybe make a change.

He just needed a little bit of help.

There was light at the end of the tunnel afterall.

#tarias oneshot #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #peter parker #marvel #tony stark #depressed peter parker #angst #hurt comfort #oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #tony is peters dad #fanfic

3 notes · View notes