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anonymousewrites · 2 months

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Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Six

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Six: Memories of Life and Death

Summary: Everyone says the wrong thing, and (Y/N)'s mental health pays the price.

(Y/N) closed their eyes and put their hands over their ears as Angel’s show-and-tell video played. It was, of course, nothing short of one of his acting scenes with more of him than (Y/N) ever wanted or needed to see.

“Ya know, this performance won me a ‘Sex-x-x-i’ award,” said Angel proudly.

“It’s, uh, very…honest?” Charlie averted her face.

“Ew,” said Vaggie. “Okay, enough of that! Angel, what the fuck?”

“What? You said it was Show n’ Tell day!” said Angel. “I’m showin’ you my best film, and I’m tellin’ you that it scored me a win over that bitch, Tiffany Titfucker.”

“Ya know, that’s not a very convincing interrogation scene,” said Husk from the bar as he cleaned glasses.

“Alright, dickhead, what makes you think you have any right to insult my work to my fuckin’ face?” said Angel.

“You’re really gonna sit there and act like these scripts ain’t hot garbage?” said Husk, raising a brow.

“Fuck you,” said Angel. “This is classy art!” He pointed at the screen on an incredibly inappropriate scene.

Pentious covered his eyes with his head flaps, and Niffty grinned happily as she watched.

“That’s bullshit,” said Husk. “You get drunk and bitch about them all the time. Everyone likes to bitch to the bartender. I know everything about you and these motherfuckers at this point.” Angel rolled his eyes, and Husk decided to make a point. “That one.” He pointed at Pentious. “That one is an insecure buffoon whose lonely ass watches you idiots sleep. Princess is a bleeding heart who wants to solve everyone else’s problems ‘cept her own.”

“What? No, I—Pfft, no, no,” denied Charlie nervously.

Husk just continued on to Vaggie. “This one judges everyone and everything because she hates herself.”

“Aargh!” Vaggie hated how accurate it was.

“That one.” Husk moved on to (Y/N), whose flowers flinched nervously. “Is sick and tired of being thought of as some innocent kid by everyone here and might go crazy if anyone tries to put that role onto them.”

(Y/N) smiled sheepishly. Unfortunately, they really did feel like that.

“And Niffty.” Husk made a face. “You don’t even wanna know what her deal is.”

Angel cackled. “You weren’t kidding. Haha, wow! Kitten’s got claws! Meow~” He grabbed Husk’s face teasingly.

“And you!” Husk pushed Angel back. “Don’t get me started. I see right through you and all this bullshit and how fake you are.”

“Oh, me? Fake?” challenged Angel. “Wow. I had no idea. Guess that’s why I’m an actor. Dumbass. And—” His phone went off, and Angel’s face fell before he grabbed it. “Hold that thought.” He walked a few paces away. “Hello? Uh, yeah, I’m-I’m…” His entire attitude had changed, growing nervous and hesitant, completely unlike the usual Angel Dust the hotel dealt with. “No, no, I just, I—No, I’m not, but, uh, yeah…I’ll be right there.”

He turned off his phone and looked back at the group. (Y/N) furrowed their brow in concern as they saw a familiarly fake smile spread across his face. They had worn that smile themself. It had weighed more than a thousand tons on their shoulders.

“Well, uh, looks like Val needs me for an, uh, emergency shoot,” said Angel, trying to seem excited and eager.

“Uhuh, sure,” said Husk, seeing through it.

“You know what?” snapped Angel. “Fuck you! I don’t give a shit what a drunk ass bartender thinks a’ me! So why don’t you just crawl back to whatever cave you came out of, porn critic.” He gave Husk the middle finger and walked towards the door.

“Angel, you can’t leave yet!” said Charlie. “We haven’t finished our exercises for the day.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage without me,” said Angel.

I don’t think he can say no to Valentino, thought (Y/N), frowning.

They knew Angel had a contract with Valentino, and they saw the exhaustion in him whenever he returned to the hotel. They knew that if he could, Angel would rest more often. But he couldn’t. And (Y/N) really wished they could do something about it. After all, if there was one thing they despised more than anything else in this whole Hell and Heaven and Earth and everything, it was those that took advantage of others. The very thought summoned a murderous rage (Y/N).

They knew what it felt like to be used and abused.

The roses on (Y/N)’s head quivered and wilted as they felt themself on the verge of really, truly remembering (reliving) what they had gone through in life, and (Y/N)’s chest tightened.

“There isn’t much time left for the hotel to prove itself,” said Charlie, her words drawing (Y/N) out of their mind successfully.

“Dollface, it’s my job,” said Angel forcefully. “I know you want to fix everything, but unless you can fix my boss, there’s nothing you can do.” He slammed the door shut and was gone.

“Uuuuugh, why is this so haaaard?” groaned Charlie, curling up in front of the door. “What am I doing wrong?”

“I don’t think Valentino wants Angel to be redeemed, even if it’s possible,” said (Y/N), frowning.

“But I do,” said Charlie. “And I really believe in him! But he always has to go to work and can never really commit…What do I do?”

“Well, I mean, you’re the princess of Hell,” said Vaggie.

“So?” said Charlie.

“So, you don’t really use the power that comes with that, which I love about you, but maybe you can…I don’t know, command a little more authority?” suggested Vaggie, smiling encouragingly.

“But that’s so mean!” said Charlie.

“I don’t know much about the Vees, but I’m sure they’d deserve it,” said (Y/N), and Husk nodded in firm agreement.

“It’s not mean, exactly,” said Vaggie, trying to get through to Charlie in a way she’d understand. “It’s, uh, aggressive kindness!”

Wow. (Y/N) and Husk looked at each other, unimpressed by that “persuasion.”

“Okay!” Charlie brightened, apparently having been convinced by the idea of “aggressive kindness.” “I could be so aggressively kind to Angel’s boss that I convince to let Angel spend more time at the hotel!”

“Sure, whatever gets you there, babe,” said Vaggie, smiling at Charlie as she walked out the door happily.

“Is killing Overlords not on the table?” murmured (Y/N).

“No,” said Husk. “At least, not for you.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll do it another time,” said (Y/N).

Husk shrugged. “As long as you know you’ll win, go for it.” He didn’t care if Valentino got what was coming to him.

“Do not encourage them to kill people!” said Vaggie.

“It’s not people. It would be Valentino,” said Husk, and (Y/N) nodded in agreement.

Vaggie sighed, but she couldn’t disagree.

When Angel returned, (Y/N)’s anger returned full force. He was clearly exhausted and uncomfortable, and whatever he had to film, it was long and, possibly (likely), painful.

“Eugh, I need a drink,” said Angel, slumping across the bar counter. “The hardest you can make.”

“Hm. You look like shit,” said Husk, putting a glass down and pouring a drink.

Angel straightened and put on his overconfident act. “Pfft. Not possible. Just a long shoot, nothin’ new.”

“Are you alright, Angel?” asked (Y/N), frowning.

“Of course!” said Angel, but he quickly chugged the drink Husk had made him. He slammed the glass down. “I said a strong one.”

“Excuse me,” scoffed Husk. “Didn’t realize this was a ‘drinking to forget’ kind of night.”

“Oh, I forgot. You’re the wise old bartender who’s seen it all!” Angel spoke confidently, but the look on his face was clearly not. “Get the fuck over yourself and pour me a real drink.”

“Look, if you got a problem, you’re not going to find the solution at the bottom of a bottle,” said Husk. “I should know, I’ve been looking there a long time.”

“Oh, sure, and where should I look, huh?” said Angel, scoffing. He wiggled his eyebrows. “In your bedroom, maybe? Under the covers? Maybe we can go and look together.”

“Angel, we’re actually worried,” said (Y/N), walking over. “We want to make sure you’re okay and take care of yourself.”

“I’m fine,” snapped Angel. “I don’t need any help.”

“Cut the act,” said Husk. “We can both see through it. You’re just lying to yourself and being fake.”

“Call me a fake one more time, motherfuckers!” Angel snapped, leaning forward towards (Y/N) and Husk angrily.

“Angel—” began (Y/N), reaching out slightly.

“Just leave me alone!” snapped Angel. He slapped their hand away. “Ya know what?! Ya’re all fucking lucky to be talkin’ to me! And you—” he glared at Husk “—would be lucky to fuck me! Ya know how much I’m worth?!” He was clearly spiraling. “Ya know how many people would kill to have Angel Dust come onto them?! Fuck you!” He spun on (Y/N), who flinched back. “And you! Just leave me alone! Stop trying the nice act on me! Acting like you’re innocent and nice when you’re just as much a sinner as us! Just fucking stop!”

(Y/N) flinched back as Angel stormed out. Their chest constricted, and they were overwhelmed as words from their past came to the surface. (Y/N) stumbled back even as Vaggie came around the corner. They could vaguely hear Vaggie asking Husk what had happened, but everything was faraway, like (Y/N) was underwater.

(Y/N) pulled away from the group, and as the edges of their vision blurred, they stumbled away, farther into the hotel.

Away. Need to get away.

(Y/N) collapsed in a darkened corner of the hotel.

“Don’t act innocent. You’re a filthy sinner, and if you don’t start obeying me, you’re going straight to Hell.”

(Y/N) curled up, putting their hands around their knees. Unbidden, roses and briars bloomed around them, creating a protective barrier that couldn’t hide (Y/N) from the words echoing in their mind.

“I saw you in Church. You weren’t paying attention. Can’t you do anything right? Do you want to burn for all eternity?”

(Y/N) squeezed their eyes shut and put their hands over their ears, but nothing could block out their memories.

“You’ve brought this on yourself. You refuse to atone for your sins, so I must deliver you from yourself.”

(Y/N) flinched, and phantom pain blossomed on their back.

“You are a sinner! You bring sin into this household! You must atone!”

(Y/N) curled farther in on themself.

I’m fine. I’m free. None of them can hurt me again. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.

“I’m fine. They can’t hurt me. I won. I won. I won.”

“Sinner. Filthy. Dirty.”

“No, no, no, you were the filthy one. You hurt me.” (Y/N) murmured. “They hurt me, and I punished them.”

“Wrong. Mistake. Abomination.”

“I did the right thing. I did the right thing. I did the right thing.”

“You have to atone.”

“Can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt me.”

(Y/N) tried to breathe as their entire body ran hot, lungs too tight, the air too stuffy.

And then something cool wrapped around them. (Y/N) tensed, but they were too exhausted to open their eyes, too scared to see the people they were so desperately trying to block out. So they just let the comforting temperature wrap around them, settling around them. It stilled their thoughts, delivering them from their own mental hell.

(Y/N) let out a tired breath and held themself tightly. Whatever was settling around them felt like no enemy, and (Y/N) would take any bit of comfort they could find.

They had never gotten any before.

Alastor lurked within the shadows of the hotel, gazing over (Y/N)’s small, protective barrier. He loomed above, perfectly able to act as he wished, ready as ever to drive fear into all. Instead, Alastor let the shadows rise and settle around (Y/N)’s shoulders. Their breathing calmed, and Alastor pulled back farther into the shadows, satisfied.

He could’ve frightened them. He could’ve driven them farther into their own madness. He could’ve pushed them and their magic to the brink to see if they had the strength to survive.

But Alastor hadn’t. He’d heard the same words he’d spoken to himself so, so long ago. And he’d done what, perhaps, a different, faint version of himself would have wanted.

Perhaps (Y/N) and he were not as different as he assumed.

Instantly, Alastor retreated into the shadows. He would prefer to think over that new realization on his own. It presented quite a few considerations Alastor had so far avoided in his life.

Much, much later in the evening, (Y/N) braved a return to the lobby to attempt to steal a drink before retreating to their room again.

“Hey, kid?”

(Y/N) froze and turned. Angel was standing across from them, rubbing his arm nervously.

“Oh. Uh, hi.”

“Listen, kid.” Angel stepped forward. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry. For earlier. I shouldn’t’ve said what I did. I was being stupid. You’re a good kid. And even if you’re in Hell, you’re betta than most of the sinners in the Hellhole.”

“It’s okay,” said (Y/N), shifting uneasily. “You weren’t feeling well. I’m sorry for pushing.”

“You, uh, cared,” said Angel. “It was nice of you. So thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Angel smiled slightly. “Are we okay?”

(Y/N) nodded. “We are.” Angel wasn’t who (Y/N) had escaped. He was their friend.

And whoever had helped them was their friend, too.

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writeyouin · 11 months

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Mirage X Reader - Falling

Description (This was a request but it got sent to my PMs instead of my inbox by accident): When Alison Moyet's song Falling comes on the radio, Mirage is forced to think about you and his feelings towards you.

A/N – Yep, so another Mirage one for all of you desperately waiting for the film to come out on a good pirating site in top quality.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

You stood at the sink washing dishes, a tune on your lips that you mumbled quietly to yourself, only half singing with your mind on other things like lost loves, failed relationships, and someone new in your life; Mirage.

“She said something like, I’m tired of me,” You sang Alison Moyet’s ‘Falling’, and then transitioned to whistling part more of the tune which had only come out a year prior.

Then, without the radio to follow, you reset to an earlier part of the tune, singing whichever little bits came to mind.

Little did you know, Mirage was spying on you, trying his best to imitate the stealthy way Arcee moved. Alas, subtlety wasn’t Mirage’s strong suit and he had already knocked over a row of garbage cans, and crushed some kid’s bike; he could only hope the bike wouldn’t be missed. Fortunately, among the usual noise and squalor of New York, nobody had cared about the sound or come out to explore.

Mirage wasn’t trying to be a creep by observing you. He just wanted to know more about your life and what you did. It seemed that in your day-to-day routine, you were obsessed with music. Bumblebee had already introduced Mirage to the concept of human music which was vastly different from the stuff that used to exist on Cybertron and Mirage liked it.

It was different from what he was used to for sure, but there were some songs he just couldn’t resist. The Twisted Sister song ‘We’re Not Gonna Take It,’ seemed to be a great Frag You to any Decepticon scum that attempted battle with him. And there was that one Bumblebee had introduced to him, ‘I Can’t Drive 55’, by that Sammy Hager fella. That was great, but Mirage was more than capable of beating that set speed and regularly did so when he wanted to bait the local authorities into a fun chase.

Still, he wasn’t sure he saw the appeal of this song. It sounded happy and sad at the same time, and he couldn’t decide which it was supposed to be with its New Wave vibe. Was it about falling, like it said? Falling for what? Mirage wasn’t sure, but you seemed to enjoy it. You hummed it quite a lot when you were thinking; he wasn’t sure you realised that you did that. It was one of the things he liked about you. It felt like you were letting your guard down when you hummed along to half a tune, and he enjoyed that you could feel so relaxed around him and the other Autobots.

Mirage might have called on you that night to ask you out on a drive; he liked your company. Alas, he got a message from Optimus telling him to return for the evening so they might meet the humans that Noah had been found by. Apparently, the new humans wished to discuss the possibility of an alliance with the Autobots.

Either way, Optimus’ message ended with, “Return to the rendezvous immediately.”

“Mirage, return,” Mirage mocked, impersonating Optimus. “Mirage, meet the humans. Mirage, I choose you.”

“Did I ask for your backtalk?” Optimus’ gravelly voice came through the radio.

“Scrap!” Mirage hurried to end the communication, having not realised that the line was still open when he had been joking around.

He transformed and raced off to the rendezvous point, any thoughts of you temporarily forgotten.

The next night, the Autobots stood in a unified line as they stared at their new base, a fully functional warehouse, with technology that they could use, even if it was primitive Earth tech.

“Optimus, can we trust these humans?” Arcee asked, her optics never leaving the building.

“We must try, Arcee. I see now that we have spent too much time working only for ourselves when we should have been working together.”

“Any way you want it, that’s the way you need it,” Bumblebee played from his speakers, using Journey’s immortalised words to convey his point.

Arcee looked past Optimus to catch a glimpse of Mirage, “You’ve been awfully quiet, Mirage. Thoughts?”

Mirage marched himself in front of the trio, clapping his servos together as he began his speech, “Well, I mean, clearly there’s a lot to think about here. There are the new humans we know, we have to check the place for bugs, and of course, there’s the most important matter of all-” He took a few slow steps backwards, “- who gets the biggest room. I call dibs!”

With that Mirage spun on his heel and pelted towards the base. Bumblebee, unwilling to let Mirage have all the fun joined in the race and chased after his ally, though when he had just about caught up, Mirage jumped backwards, crashing into Bumblebee and knocking him over. Before he could sprint off again, Bumblebee grabbed Mirage’s ankle and the two began brawling on the floor.

Optimus walked past the wrestling bots with dignity befitting his position and a dismayed shake of his head.

Arcee took a few steps closer to her allies, resting her servo on her hip as she took in the show.

‘Scouts will be scouts,’ She thought mirthfully.

Eventually, the competition was over, with Bumblebee the clear victor, and after sitting on top of Mirage for ten minutes, he finally let him get up, but only after Mirage admitted that Bumblebee was the best Autobot and the supreme Earth expert.

After that, they raced through the base, checking out every nook and cranny, and wondering which exits they could exploit and sneak out of, should Optimus try to ground them from the drive-in again.

Eventually, Bumblebee and Mirage settled down, each picking out a portion of the warehouse that was just for them. All rooms had been modified with individual entrances so they could come and go as they pleased. Mirage had even been hooked up with some sweet racing posters. He set about decorating the room to his liking, letting his internal radio play as he did so. After switching channels, he stumbled across the song you liked so much.

Curiously, he let it play, trying to really listen to what the lyrics meant.

She said something like I want to go Down where the river's wild He said take me then I want to drown Deep in your violent eyes

Deep in your violent eyes? Was it a love song? If it was, it was the strangest one he had heard before.

He continued listening.

But I want to be sure of one thing That I'm getting into something peaceful I want to fly in on your wing Way, way up here I don't care for anything It's all in, and I'm not afraid I don't fear Falling

There was no doubt about it. The song was indeed about falling in love.

Mirage felt a sharp prick of indignation. Were you in love with someone? He had to assume so, considering that you didn’t seem to sing anything else. It was always this song. Who were you in love with, and why did he care so much?

He wasn’t sure, but the idea of you with someone else made Mirage’s engines rev and his face contort disgustedly. You were his buddy, his pal, his partner in crime. Why did you need some stupid, boring human, when you could hang out with him? Speaking of which, when was the last time the two of you had hung out of late? You hadn’t been together much since he’d been repaired. Well, with his room claimed and little else to do, Mirage decided that tonight was as good as any to get in some bonding time.

He transformed, revving his engine loudly as he waited for the automatic garage door to open for him. His wheels spun on the spot in a move that would have burned rubber on any ordinary car. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door opened enough for him to slip through and he sped off, ignoring every speed limit he came across; if Prime gave him the third degree about laying low later, he would claim ignorance and take whatever punishment he was given.

When Mirage got to your house, he honked his horn loudly, waiting for you to open your window and see him. He couldn’t transform into his root-mode while a few seedy humans lingered about, so he had to wait for you to get to him… presuming you weren’t with someone lame, like a crush you hadn’t mentioned.

At the commotion, you poked your head out of the window, grinning when you saw Mirage. You held up two fingers, indicating that you would be two minutes and then hastily got changed from your pyjamas back into your day clothes. Grabbing your keys, you ran outside and climbed into Mirage’s passenger seat, buckling up in case he decided to take off before speaking as he was prone to do; buckling up was indeed a wise choice as Mirage took speedily to the streets.

“So,” You asked casually, “Business or pleasure?”

“Have you ever seen me do business? Business is for the big guy, you know, never smiles, never shows me that underbite, the big OP,” Mirage sassed you.

“I dunno, you seemed pretty business when you fought Scourge for me.”

“For you? No, no, no, I was fighting Scourge just for the sake of being the tri-planet champion.”

“Tri-planet champion?” You repeated incredulously. “You only fought him on Earth.”

“Yeah, but he’s from Galvatron, the living freaking planet. He fought on the Maximals’ planet, and he came here. Count ‘em – One, two, three. So, I digress, Tri-planet Champion.”

“Well, technically Noah was the one to face off with him, so-”

“Yeah, while he was inside me.”

“Okay, but Optimus was the one who took him offline.”

“Look, Optimus is always gonna be the champion of frowning and hard stares, a class I can’t compete in, so this is my thing.”

“All right,” You held up your hands in mock defeat. “You’re the champion.”

“Damn straight.”

“…Is the Champion going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nowhere. Everywhere, Anywhere the road takes us. Just sit back and relax. We could listen to some music,” Mirage suggested innocently, his hidden agenda on his processor.

“Sure, then I can be the champion of karaoke,” You bragged.

“Against my voice? In your dreams.”

“Oh, so you can fight, race, and sing? Triple threat.”

Mirage laughed and turned on his radio. He let a few songs play, letting you sing along while he distractedly kept his inner workings tuned on finding the Alison Moyet hit. It would likely play soon, considering its popularity.

After a few good tunes, Mirage managed to find the song and he switched channels.

“Oh hey, I’ve heard this one before,” He said nonchalantly, “This is that sappy love song, right?“

“I don’t think it’s that sappy,” You defended with a smile.

“Oh yeah? Why? Does it make you think of someone special or something?”

You imagined how easy it would be to tell Mirage the the ‘someone special’ was him; as it turned out, it wouldn’t be easy at all. You clamped your mouth shut, a blush peppering your cheeks.

“So there is someone!” Mirage said all too accusingly. “You won’t be needing me anymore then, when this new person comes into your life.”

“You sound angry.”

“No I don’t!” Mirage replied huffily, proving your point. “You know what? I don’t think I like this song after all.”

He turned the radio off and the two of you sat in awkward silence. He kept on driving, slamming down on the accelerator. There was a lot of noise from honking cars as he sped in and out of their way.

“Just tell me who it is!” Mirage demanded petulantly when the silence finally got to him. “Is it Noah? He’s probably your type, right?”

“Why do you care?” You asked, annoyed and upset by the turn of events from nice drive to speedy interrogation.

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you asking so many questions?”

“I just feel I deserve to know who it is.”

“NO YOU DON’T!” You yelled back. “THEY’RE MY FEELINGS”

“AND I’M YOUR FRIEND,” Mirage countered as if that ought to give him the right to know everything you thought.

“This is so stupid,” You breathed, shaking your head.

“Come on!” Mirage insisted. “Tell me!”

“No.”

“Tell me!”

“No!”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me-”

Against Mirage’s frustrating onslaught, you finally yelled, “IT’S YOU!”

Mirage slammed hard on the breaks and you lurched forward, hissing as the seatbelt bit painfully into your collar bone. Fortunately, you were in an area with no cars on the road, having got off the interstate some time ago.

“What?” Mirage asked.

“It’s nothing, just… take me home, please,” You begged, scared now that you had said too much.

“You like me? Like romantically? You like me romantically? You romantically like me?”

“You done with the combinations?” You said bitterly.

“But I’m- I’m an alien.”

“Yeah,” You threw your hands up. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. Now will you please take me home?”

Mirage transformed his arm, pulling you out of his chassis as the rest of his body followed suit. From his palm, you looked down to the floor, wondering whether it would be better to jump and get a concussion rather than have the embarrassing conversation that was about to follow.

“I don’t get it,” Mirage said, staring at you as if you were a complicated mathematics problem.

“I know,” You said, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself as if it might protect you from the sorrow you were feeling.

“No, but like, I really don’t get it. I thought you were just a friend, and kind of cool but I think- I think I feel the same way, maybe?”

You watched Mirage guardedly, unsure as to why he was asking you when it was his feelings that were scrambled.

“Look, Mirage, you don’t have to pity me, okay? Please don’t test yourself on me. I know I’m not what you’d look for and-”

Mirage pressed his lips against yours then hastily pulled away. You stared at him, too scared to speak.

He nodded to himself, pecked your lips again, and then vented a quick puff of air from his systems.

“Yeah, yep, yes,” He stammered. “That- That was a feeling. A-ha. Yeah, so I just found out I have a thing for you too.”

“You serious?” You asked, making sure that Mirage was alright as he stumbled through a barrage of new feelings.

“Yeah, I uh- I get the song now. Still don’t love it, but I get it.”

“Seriously? You’re still thinking about the song?”

“Hey, I’m thinking about a lot of things at once here (Y/N), mostly how I’m going to explain this to Prime later, a little bit about how this is going to work, and yeah, the song slipped in there. Frankly, I think we need to get you more into Bon Jovi, but I guess this could be our song or whatever.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “This was not how I pictured any of this going.”

“Yeah,” Mirage nodded, pacing back and forth, the motion rocking you on his palm, “But at least we got a song, right? Most new couples got nothing.”

Despite your tiredness, you couldn’t help smiling at his straightforward manner of thinking, “Sure, Mirage. At least we have a song.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #transformers #maccadam #tf #transformers rise of the beasts #optimus prime #bumblebee #arcee #mirage #mirage x reader #mirage x you #falling #alison moyet

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questionableratatouille00 · 7 months

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𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 4

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve mentioning his regrets about what he did during a traumatic event prompts Y/n to think about her own regrets. This sends her into a spiral, but a very special outing helps her out. Especially when the invite comes from that same redhead.

Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.

Warnings: grief, mentions of a dead lover, heart attacks, talks of trauma, cursing, self-hating thoughts.

🌻Series Masterlist 🌻

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𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭

“I regret what I did. When it happened.” Steve confessed, and you frowned.

“Would you like to share more about what happened?” Coulson invited him to speak.

“There isn’t very much to share. I was thirteen, my dad and I were outside. He was cutting down a tree, and then…well, he just clutched his chest and fell over. I think he called for help. I can’t…can’t remember it very clearly. But I just stood there. I just stood there like an idiot.” Steve swallows, clearing his throat.

“And I’m not saying he was the best dad, or the best man, because he wasn’t. He was a drunk, and he’d do stupid shit when he was drunk. But I’d never…never seen someone die before.” He rubbed his hands together every so often. “I regret it. If I’d done something, maybe he could’ve lived.”

“That’s not your fault, you know.” Wanda says gently. “You were a child. You couldn’t control that.”

Steve just shrugged in response.

“Does anybody else want to share similar feelings or memories?” Coulson addressed the crowd.

Regret. You understood that feeling. You regret what you did the morning of the accident. How you didn’t get to tell her goodbye that morning before she went to work. How you didn’t tell her that you loved her.

Warm sunlight spilled through the blinds of your bedroom, the blankets strewn about the bed. You’d chosen these bedsheets together, you remembered. You’d picked them out in the store together, soon before you moved into your apartment. These were good bedsheets. Warm, and comfortable, and safe.

You heard the distant sound of Natasha making coffee in the kitchen. You wanted to get up, to kiss her cheek and tell her you loved her before she went off to work. But God, you were so tired, and the sheets were so comfortable and warm and safe. Besides, you’d see her later anyway. She was only going to work. She’d come back around dinner time, and then you two could cook together or she’d bring something home. Like any other day.

But it hadn’t been any other day. You knew that now. God, you were such an ass. You should’ve just gotten out of bed like a normal, functioning human being and told your girlfriend you loved her and hoped she had a good day. It was so easy. Why couldn’t you have just done it?

But now Natasha is gone, and the last time you got to talk to her was the night before she fucking died, and what had you said to her?

“Can you take the trash out when you leave tomorrow?” Fuck, you wanted to beat yourself with a chair. Your last words to your girlfriend were asking her to take out the fucking garbage. Not ‘I love you, goodnight’ or ‘you’re my everything’ but ‘hey, can you take out my fucking garbage because I can’t get up off my ass and do it myself?’

You weren’t very present as you listened to the rest of the meeting, and you weren’t present when you walked out to your car, either.

“Hey,” a familiar feminine voice called for your attention. “Are you alright?”

You looked over your shoulder to see the redhead. “Yeah. Yeah, m’fine.”

“Are you..sure?” She asked softly. God, there was something about her, about the way she spoke, that made you want to tell her everything.

Fuck, you were just downright awful, huh? You couldn’t even be bothered to tell your girlfriend that she mattered to you, and now you’re just going to dump your baggage onto every attractive person you meet?

“I…” You trailed off, opting to rub your thumb against your keys. You decided to just shrug in response.

“Would—would you like to get lunch together? Tomorrow?” She blurted out. She bit her lip immediately after, and you could tell she regretted saying it.

But you nodded. You couldn’t lie, you’d been attracted to her.

“Great. Uhm—here’s my number.” She hands you a tiny piece of paper, and you’d realized that she’d been waiting to give this to you.

“Thanks.” You smiled. She nodded quickly, rushing off to her car. You chuckled to yourself, opening your car door and getting inside. You didn’t feel as shitty anymore.

As you drove home, you couldn’t help but think about her. You and Wanda were always pretty friendly with each other, exchanging a few words or compliments here and there.

———————

The next day, you made sure you didn’t look like you’d just rolled out of bed, taking the time to pick out a decent, matching outfit and even accessorizing with a necklace. It wasn’t fancy by any means, you were just going out to a cafe. You’d texted with Wanda about where the two of you were going to go, and you’d both eventually decided to meet at the cafe at 12:30.

You were out the door at 12:00, driving down to the cafe as you anxiously anticipated the…whatever this qualified as. It wasn’t a date. It couldn’t have been a date, Wanda liked men and only men, right? Just because someone isn’t homophobic doesn’t mean they’re gay.

When you arrived, she parked next to you.

“Hey,” you greeted awkwardly, wiping your sweaty hand on your thigh.

“Hi.” She smiled, and her nose crinkled. It was adorable, and she looked genuinely happy to see you.

You walked inside together, ordering your food and taking it to a table to sit down. You’d ordered your favorite food from the cafe, and she’d gotten a cup of soup with a half of a sandwich.

You chatted about anything and everything, and you smiled warmly throughout the entire conversation. Wanda had that effect on people. Even in group therapy, whenever she talked to anyone they ended up smiling.

You’d been to a quite a few meetings, getting to know everybody. The weather was still decently warm and the sun was still out, but it was clear that fall was approaching.

“Any plans for Halloween?” You asked after a few moments of silence where the two of you were eating.

“No, I don’t think so. I normally have a bunch of trick-or-treaters, so I’m probably going to end up decorating a lot this year.” She explains. “Normally my husband would’ve helped, but..” she shrugged, smiling up at you lightly. You envied Wanda in her ability to be so put together after losing a partner. Her husband, no less. Natasha meant the world to you, and maybe one day you would’ve gotten married, but there’s a whole lot of extra stuff to do when your spouse dies, isn’t there?

“I might invite the group over and we could do it together. I’d make or get dinner or something, and we’d get time to get to know each other outside of therapy. Maybe that’s not what I’m supposed to do, but they all seem like really nice people. What do you think?” She suggested.

“I think that’s a good idea.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d be willing to help, if you want.”

She smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

#moving on #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic

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maximwtf · 1 year

Text

“When the sun sets.”

Pearl x reader

words: 1300

google docs pages: 2

Warnings: sleeping problems, think that's it

opening: You’ve had trouble falling asleep recently, but no worries. Pearl is there to spend time with you in the dark hours of the night, and wait for you to fall asleep.

AN// Reader can be any gender. This is a really short one, but I still wanted to write it you !

“When the sun sets.”

While tossing and turning on your bed again, the thought of how amazing it would be to be able to sleep comes to mind. A while ago the blame of keeping you up had been placed on the ‘bed’ you’d been given, but it wasn’t that. The couch was actually very comfortable to be on, but you just couldn’t catch sleep.

As you turned to your back, the rays of sunshine from the rising sun seemed to have come back. Another night spent without an ounce of sleep. A long but a rather quiet groan escaped your mouth. You pushed the soft pillow from the couch onto your face, hiding from the light of the day. What you couldn’t see, wasn’t there.

It didn’t take long for Steven to start waking up. You heard his sheets move, and soon he was making his way to the kitchen area to make breakfast. Peeking from under the pillow, you could see him start to prepare something. “Morning…” You mumbled, letting the pillow fall onto the floor. The dark haired boy looked a little startled at first but soon calmed down, seeing that it was only you talking. “Morning!” He chirped, before seeing the condition you were in. Tired and worn out, barely any sleep for a while. “Are you…okay?” He asked carefully, tilting his head a little. You sat up, stretching straight after. “Okay, yes. Tired, also ‘surprisingly’ yes.” Steven hummed, as if to say that he understood but also as a sign that he felt bad. “I’ve tried everything, and nothing seems to help. How do you sleep so well?” You asked the boy, turning to look at him again. Steven kept preparing his food as he replied. “I guess it comes naturally to me.” He said, then quickly turning to look at you. “I’m sorry for not being able to help, really.” Poor boy, he was still quite young and somehow felt bad because you couldn’t sleep. “It’s okay.” You took a hold of the edge of the pillow, and pulled it back onto the couch. Pearl hated when you left them on the ground.

The door behind the warp pad opened, and Amethyst walked out of her room. “Morning.” She said, making her way to the kitchen, seemingly looking for something to eat. The gems didn’t have to do that to survive, but somehow Amethyst was the only one who chose…who wanted to take part in it. Though she went above and beyond with it. She would often be seen making an egg salad in the garbage disposal, which you’d never in a million years do, nevertheless eat it afterwards.

You were brought back from your thoughts by Amethyst waving her hand in front of your face. “You there, buddy?” She said, and when your eyes moved to hers, she sat down next to you. “Sorry, I haven’t really slept.” You apologised, trying to erase the slight blush that had creeped onto your face.

The next one to appear from their room is Pearl. She sits down on one of the kitchen bar chairs and soon her gaze lands on you. “Stars, you look terrible.” She blurts out, soon fixing her wording. “Not that- I didn’t mean it in-” You giggled, making the pearl stop explaining herself. “It’s okay. I do look like I’ve been through a car crash.” Pearl tries to laugh too, but fails to do so, as she clearly feels bad for you. She despised most human traditions, but she was still understanding. Humans needed sleep.

The rest of the day went on with you staying inside most of the day, not having the energy to go out or do much for that matter. The sun was setting yet again, which to you indicated many restless hours that were ahead yet again.

Steven was putting himself to bed and the gems had gone to rest. You began to unfold your blanket, when Pearl turned to look at you. Not feeling her gaze, you tried to lay down, eyes open like they were taped up. A soft sigh came from the other side of the room, as quiet steps came closer and closer. “You don’t look like you’re ready to sleep, no?” Pearl’s voice said as she sat down next to you. “I won’t be any time soon.” Pearl furrowed her brows as she watched you move back to a sitting position. She didn’t say a word for a moment, an oddly comfortable silence falling between the two of you. Only the usual nightly sounds surrounded you for that moment. The sound of Steven breathing in his sleep, a clock ticking and the wooden house creaking when gushes of wind blew past outside. A quiet ‘erm..’ came from Pearl’s side before she spoke up more properly. “Would you like me to spend time with you? If that could help?” She ended up saying, a little awkwardly. You turned to look at her for a short moment, surprised by the offer. “Sure, go ahead.” And with a soft hum you leaned back against the back of the couch.

Pearl’s gem started to glow and soon a book appeared in her hands. After that the glow died down and the room was dark once again. The spine of the book made a little crackling noise as the pale gem opened it up. Without saying anything, she started to read it quietly. Not loud enough to wake up Steven, but just so you could hear it too. Slowly, as the story went on page by page, you started to lean more towards the gem. At some point she had lit up her gem to function as a reading light. Her gem was placed perfectly, for her having to only look down and the light pointed nicely on the pages.

Some time later your head had slumped down against her shoulder. It felt like the pale gem had tensed up for a moment but soon relaxed, not mentioning anything about it. She kept reading, and at some point into the book she had pulled the blanket back on top of you. It felt comfortable. Comfortable to be warm and have her around.

Pearl started to be near the end of the book, and it might as well have been hours or a shorter amount of time, you couldn’t tell anymore. She had placed her free hand around you, to make sitting more comfortable. Your eyes had grown heavy, and with the sound of the pages turning sleep finally overtook your mind and body. Pearl only noticed this after she had closed the book and put it down. It almost felt like a crime to move now that you were finally asleep, but maybe…maybe if she moved just carefully enough you wouldn’t wake up.

With slow and to her style usual, elegant movements, she was able to get up and let her human companion sleep in peace. She observed your sleeping form quietly and moved a stray hair out of your face. The glow from her gem had disappeared a while ago, leaving the house dark once again. A faint smile appeared on her face as she took long and quiet steps towards the door at the back of the house. Before entering her room she made sure to check that you were still asleep, and then disappeared from the house.

#steven universe #pearl #steven universe pearl #pearl x reader #steven universe x reader #steven universe pearl x reader #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #pearl su

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tellmeumissme · 11 months

Text

"Breakup"

Mikasa Ackerman x Female!Reader

Do NOT repost or translate my work anywhere pretty please!!

Warning(s): Alcohol, Breakups, Jealousy, Crying, Venting, References to Canon.

You’re at another one of Porco’s stupid frat parties, alone. Annie dragged you here to help you get over your breakup, but right now all you wanted to do was go home and cry.

Not over your ex, that breakup was mutual and long overdue, no, the reason your eyes are stinging tonight is because Annie is flaunting herself and her relationship right in front of you. Bertholdt wraps his arms around Annie and kisses her with a smile, she rests her arms around his neck and you scowl, gripping the beer in your hand so hard your knuckles turn white.

You can hear a dull ringing in your ears as you stare at the two, Annie notices your glare and swallows hard, you shift your gaze to Reiner and Porco playing beer pong in front of you, feigning interest in the two frat boys competing for fuck all besides “street cred” if you could even call it that.

You hate everyone here besides Annie, and as you stand alone in Porco’s shittily decorated living room with a room temperature, below-mediocre beer in your hand, you desperately wish you were better at saying no to her, she had you wrapped around her expensively manicured finger and she didn’t even know it.

You glance back over at Annie to see her pushed against a wall, making out with her boyfriend as he pushes her skirt up the side of her thigh. You grit your teeth and set your beer down on the pong table for Porco to finish—he’s a human garbage disposal for anything liquor related—and walk off to the bathroom to calm down.

As you splash water on your face to try and sober up enough to drive home—you’ve only had half a beer and your house is a 2 minute drive—you hear a sniff and look behind you to see a pretty girl with short black hair, naked from the waist up, laying in the tub with her head tipped back, she looks drunk out of her mind.

“You alright?” you ask, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes flutter open and she looks at you hazily, her arms hang limp off the edges of the tub and she hums in acknowledgment.

You pull your jacket off and cover her chest with it. “How much have you had?” you ask, she shrugs loosely. “Uhhh..mm likeee.. 7, maybe 10” You push her short cropped hair out of her eyes and she looks up at you through her eyelashes with big steel-blue eyes.

She seems to be falling asleep, and you call back to your first aid training last summer and do your best to keep her conscious.

“What’s your name?” You ask, she frowns. “Mikasa Loser-man...” A memory surfaces in your brain as her first name, Zeke’s brother's girlfriend. You met her a few times at previous parties, always hanging off of Eren’s arm like a puppy, but as far as you knew she was pretty friendly.

“Aren’t you Eren Jaeger’s girlfriend?” You ask, tears well up in her eyes and she pouts, her head hangs low and she sniffles. “Not anymore…” You take a deep breath and sit down next to the tub, resting your forehead on the porcelain side.

You feel something touch the top of your head and you turn your head to the side to see Mikasa looking at you intently with tears staining her pale cheeks, she keeps her hand resting on your head before you sit back up. “Do you have a ride home?” she shakes her head, you stand up and put your hand out to help her up. “I’m sober and my car is just down the road, I can drop you off.” she smiles goofily and lets you help her up before she slumps against you.

“My legs are tired..” she says, you set her down on the toilet lid and stick your head out of the bathroom, Reiner is standing near you with a red solo cup in his hand, telling a story to a couple of girls surrounding him.

“PSST! Reiner!” you whisper-yell, he turns towards you with a questioning look. “You’re strong, right?” He raises a bleach-blonde eyebrow and nods, you gesture for him to come closer, he puts his pointer finger up the people he's talking to with a smile before walking over.

“What’s up?” he asks, you open the door to reveal Mikasa slumped over sitting on the toilet, wearing nothing but a short pleated jean skirt and the jacket you gave her.

You look up at Reiner with a pleading look. “I’m driving her home but I can’t carry her to the car all by myself.” He takes a deep breath and looks you both up and down. “How much have you had to drink?” He asks “Half a beer like an hour ago, and I’ve had lots of water, I’m clear.”

He nods and walks past you to pick Mikasa up bridal style, her head hangs off his bicep and you rush to his side. “Support the head!” Reiner chuckles. “She’s not a newborn, Y/N, I’ve seen this girl jump off a roof into a pool more than once.” You roll your eyes and walk to your car with Reiner behind you.

“I can trust you alone with a drunk girl, right?” Reiner asks as he sets Mikasa down in your passenger seat.

You look at him over the roof of your car with a disgusted look “Reiner Braun so help me god-” He puts his hands up beside his head with wide eyes.

“I’m just checking!” You roll your eyes and slip into the driver’s seat and roll down the passenger window to wave goodbye to reiner but he opens the backseat and slides in, you look back at him with a confused look.

“Party’s boring anyways, drop me home?” You chuckle and turn the key in the ignition, the car starts loudly and Mikasa jolts awake beside you, turning to you with wide eyes. “Good, you’re awake. What’s your address?”

…

You drop off Reiner first, his house is only 10 minutes away and Mikasa’s is 15, and he waves at you and watches you drive off safely like a dad. Mikasa waves at him as you drive off and you smile, putting Mikasa’s address into google maps and hitting go.

You feel Mikasa’s stare burning holes into the side of your head and you shift your gaze to her for a moment. “Can I help you?” You ask, she shrugs. “I dunno, do you have a time machine?” she crosses her arms and lets her head hang low. “I might, depending on how you plan to use it.” She leans back against the headrest and stares at the ceiling with a frown.

“My boyfriend broke up with me earlier today, he found someone else, or something.” she sighs. “And then I drank myself stupid, and here we are.” she takes a sip from the water bottle you gave her earlier, she’s had four bottles and has started to sober up, hopefully enough to get to her apartment safely.

“I went through a breakup recently, too.” She looks towards you with interest. “Different situation from yours, though, it was mutual, we just couldn’t stop fighting and we were both tired. It was long overdue.” Your hands tighten around the wheel and your muscles tense. “It was for the best,” Mikasa nods. “Mine was too, I think. Eren.. changed, I’ve known him since we were kids but now.. He’s different. He’s meaner. He almost killed Armin. Granted, Armin started it, but he sent him to the hospital with a broken nose and a concussion. It was rough.”

She sighs, your eyebrows pull together in pity for Armin, you’ve only met him once, but he seemed like a pretty stand-up guy, responsible, smart, and somewhat funny. God only knows what could’ve set that guy off enough to start a fight, must’ve been bad.

You pull up to the parking lot of Mikasa’s apartment building and put the car in park, she gets out slowly but ducks her head though the open window. “Wanna come inside? I could make some tea.” You consider it for a moment and decide it couldn’t be that bad, you nod.

You walk up to the third floor together and she lets you inside, she turns the lights on and a fluffy white cat rubs up against her leg, she picks it up while kicking off her shoes and walks into the kitchen.

“Make yourself comfortable!” she calls from the other room, you sit down on one of the stools connecting to the kitchen island and the cat from before hops onto the counter and headbutts your hand.

You smile and scratch it behind the ears. Mikasa walks back into the kitchen—wearing a white tee-shirt and grey sweatpants—with a smile. “Weird, she usually doesn’t like people. She hated Eren so much he couldn’t even come over without being scratched, but I just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of her, y’know?”

You nod as she joins you in petting the cat. “What’s her name?” “Pickle.” You look up at her with a quizzical smile. “I named her when I was like twelve, okay?” you laugh and go back to petting the cat.

The kettle starts whistling on the stove and Mikasa pours it into matching cups with daisies painted on them. “Cute cups.” “Thanks, my friend Historia sculpted them, I painted them.”

You hum and bring the teacup to your nose, the tea smells amazing, you blow gently on the liquid before taking a sip and humming as something other than alcohol or tap water warms your insides, Mikasa seems to feel the same way as she hums while drinking.

You finish your tea and set the cup down. “I should get going.” Mikasa looks up at you with a hesitant expression. “Okay.” you chew on the inside of your cheek as you walk to the door to put your dumb uncomfortable heels back on, but Mikasa stops you with a hand on your arm.

“Are you sure you wanna drive this late? I’ve got a nice guest room and we could even watch movies and get to know eachother better.” you look at her light pink manicured nails resting on your arm and back up to her face, you set your heels back down on the shoe rack and take a deep breath, you smile. “Sure.”

#mikasa ackerman x reader #attack on titan #x reader #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x you #annie leonhart #hurt/comfort #fanfiction

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gabriel-xander · 22 days

Text

Don't Forget

[Sans x Female!Reader]

7: Your Mom Paid Me to be Your Friend (but She Forgot to Pay Me)

♪⁠────✿⁠(⁠✧◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕✧⁠)✿⁠────♪

You yawn dramatically, stretching your arms above your head but you end up knocking your knuckles harshly on the headboard above you.

Ouch.

That certainly woke you up. You reluctantly pull yourself out of bed, just sitting there for a moment with your eyes closed. You… You don’t feel like doing anything today, if you’re honest. You and Toriel made plans today to go buy groceries to try making a recipe you found in one of her books. Now that you’re actually awake though, you don’t want to do anything. You just want to waste away in bed for today.

You’re sure you’ll have more energy tomorrow-

Knock Knock Knock.

You cover your mouth with your elbow when you yawn again, “Yes?”

Toriel opens the door and enters the room with a smile, “Good morning, my child. Nice to see you are already waking up.”

“My body is getting into the habit of waking up at this time, I guess,” You reply, smiling at her, “Are we going out for breakfast again today?”

“I–Yes,” Toriel’s smile becomes a bit strained at your tone, “Take your time to get dressed as always, alright?”

“Mhm.”

She leaves the room swiftly and closes the door behind her. Her smile drops to an expression of sadness immediately. Toriel is sure that you didn’t mean to, but your tone was so exhausted, and not the type of exhaustion that came from drowsiness. You’re getting tired of routine already. You need something new.

Toriel takes a deep breath, nods to herself, and hardens her resolve. It’s going to be fine, you’re going to be fine. After all, there’s someone she wants you to meet (again) after breakfast.

⁠────

You tilt your head to the right.

Napstablook tilts his head (rather, the top part of his body) to the right.

You tilt your head to the left.

Napstablook tilts his head to the left.

You straighten up.

Napstablook also straightens up.

You grin, “Hey, man! You’re that ghost from my second day here, the one who’s really good at fake sleeping!”

The ghost perks up with a little smile, “you remembered me…?”

“Of course I did! You’re one of a kind, you know,”

A red, ghosty blush appears on his cute little face. As you and Toriel returned from breakfast, you were surprised to see Napstablook just waiting outside, lying down and (presumably) feeling like garbage while a song blasted from his headphones. When he noticed you two, he swiftly got up, and his headphones disappeared somehow.

Wow. That was pretty cool. You have no idea how he did that.

“um… i was wondering if… if you would like to hang out…” The ghost asks awkwardly, “but i understand if you don’t want to… no pressure…”

“Wait, really?” You smile wide, “Yeah, that’d be great, dude! Oh, I’m [Y/n] [L/n], by the way. But just [Y/n] is fine.”

Yep! Napstablook already knows, but he nods anyway.

“i am napstablook, but you can call me blook, or blooky…” He looks at Toriel, “if it’s okay, i’ll take [y/n] to my favorite music store here in the ruins…”

You expect your girl-dad to interject and say no, but to your surprise, she’s wearing a happy smile and nodding. “Of course! Though, I must ask you, Napstablook, to please take care of her. As you know, monsters might be eager to fight a human, and I cannot bear knowing she’ll be hurt.”

“of-of course… miss toriel…”

“Just Toriel is fine.”

“right…” Napstablook looks at you with a nod, “if you’re ready now, we can get going…”

You blink, “Oh, right! Uh, wait–my clothes…”

You’re not wearing your striped dress right now. Of course, during your time here, Toriel was more than happy to take you shopping and even made a few things for you as well. She understands you don’t want to be perceived as a child 24/7 so the only other striped clothing item you have are some ugly socks you got. Right now you’re just wearing simple dark leggings with an oversized purple sweatshirt.

If you’re going out with someone who isn’t Toriel, wouldn’t it be safer to switch into your dress? (The whole “it’s a monster’s custom that children wear striped shirts” thing and Toriel believing monsters might not be as aggressive if you’re a kid.)

“I think it should be fine, my child,” Toriel says, knowing your concerns, “After all, I’m sure Napstablook will make sure to take good care of you.” She gives the ghost a deadly glare, “Correct? You will make sure to do your best to protect my dear [Y/n], will you not?”

Poor Napstablook tears up, “yes! yes, i-i-i will…!”

“Hey, hey, hey! No need to be so strict, T!” You laugh nervously, stepping in between her and the ghost, “You’re forgetting that I’m a tough cookie! I’m not gonna hurt anyone, and no one is gonna hurt me. Besides, I think most of the monsters here in the Ruins have seen me with you and will know better than to try anything even if you’re not around.”

She sighs, “Yes, perhaps you are right. But still, both of you, be good, alright?”

“We will,” You’re about to put your arm behind Napstablook to redirect him away, but you remember that you’d phase right through, “Anyway, let’s get going, Blooky.”

He nods frantically, floating by your side as you two begin to leave back to the city. Toriel balls up her fists, trying to suppress her anxiety.

You’re right…You’re right, you are very resilient and you tend to stand your ground even with Toriel. It’s not so much that she’s worried the other monsters will attack you, they’ve all gotten to know your face, and even greet you casually now.

Toriel is just nervous because of that flower monster that almost killed you the first day you arrived here. There still has been no sign of it, and it’s the main reason why Toriel wants you to stay in the house if she’s not out accompanying you instead. Hopefully, Napstablook will take what Toriel asked of him yesterday very seriously.

⁠──

Toriel was outside, sweeping up the fallen leaves from the tree again. She knows that it’s an endless cycle of the leaves falling, so she focuses on making sure the leaves are neat and don’t look out of place. You had turned in early for the day, and are sleeping peacefully.

“I spent all day trying to do some personal research on souls from your books. Did you know that all human souls contain something called Determination?”

You were telling her yesterday, books scattered around you and the floor with your notebook (that she bought for you) in front of yourself. You were in the lounge area on the floor, scribbling notes while looking through the books. You never liked sitting in the big chair since “that’s Chariel, the beloved living room chair,” so Toriel had put out a rug on the floor to make it a little more comfortable for you.

“I wanna take a nap though. I know it’s annoying, but can you NOT clean this up?” You asked her while getting up, “I wanna pick up where I left off later, and I don’t wanna lose my spot. But I used enough brain power the last hour, I’ve earned a little nap.”

You did not take a little nap, you passed the fuck out. Still, Toriel respected your wishes and left the books on the floor. Since you slept so early, Toriel decided to take this time to tidy up outside.

That’s when a friendly little ghost sauntered up the house. He looked extremely nervous, but Toriel was more focused on her mystery friend finding the right ghost so soon! She straightened up and cleared her throat.

“Welcome, welcome. You must be the ghost from all those weeks ago,” She sets the broom aside against the tree, “I am Toriel, thank you for taking the time to come here.”

“oh… it’s no problem…” Napstablook purposely avoided Toriel’s eyes from anxiety, and if he had hands, he’d nervously be fidgeting with his fingers, “did… did i do something wrong…?”

“Oh, no! Not at all. On the contrary, I’d like to talk to you to ask for a favor.”

“a favor…?”

“As you know, there is a human that is staying with me. Her name is [Y/n] and she has been here for almost a month now.”

“ah, right…” Napstablook nodded, “that human child who believed in my fake sleeping… she was really nice…”

“Yes, about that. She…” Toriel took a deep breath, “[Y/n] is not a child, she is a grown woman. She and I both have our hesitation when it comes to her interacting with the other monsters for this reason. Not only that but there is a particular monster that has it out for her.”

Wait, so you’re not a kid? But what about that striped dress you were wearing? Don’t you know only kids wear striped shirts? Well… Yeah, okay. You’re a human, you wouldn’t know that. Still, it makes sense why Toriel was giving him the stinky eye when he first met you. If monsters have no problem killing a child whenever one falls into the Underground, then of course they might be harsher when it comes to an objectively scarier adult.

“[y/n] isn’t a mean human, is she…?”

“No, she is rather kind. She has her… eccentric moments, for sure. And perhaps her humor can be… not for everyone, but she is a kind human,” Toriel shook her head dejectedly, “Which is why I cannot fathom why there is a particular monster who is after her so violently.”

Napstablook, for some reason, can only think of Sans.

“wha-what do you mean…? what monster?”

“There is some type of flower monster that nearly killed her were it not for me interfering just in time.”

Phew. Oh, okay. So NOT Sans.

…

That is still concerning, though.

“I can’t be too careful when it comes to her safety, so I made sure to only allow her to leave the house as long as I accompanied her. But… As you may be able to guess, the lack of new companions and staying indoors so often can be rather lonely for a human like her. Not even my companionship can help her.”

Toriel took a deep breath, “So if it’s all the same to you, I would appreciate it if you could spend some time with her out in the city–here in the Ruins. And make sure she stays safe as well. She expressed once or twice that she was interested in getting to know you, so I figured if I were to ask anyone, it would be you.”

…

Huh?

Is… Is Toriel basically asking him to be your friend and your bodyguard?? That’s all she wants from him? Sans made him think something super serious was going to go down, or that he’d have to be careful of the human trying to murder his face. Toriel has no reason to lie to him about the human’s nature. And just like he suspected, you’re kind and Toriel agrees to it, too. That thing about a flower monster wanting you dead for no reason though…

Napstablook has some (self) doubt.

“you… you want me to hang out with the human-”

“-Her name is [Y/n].”

Napstablook winced, “right, sorry… but… you want me to hang out with [y/n], and… protect her…?” He looked away, “i don’t know if… if i’m strong enough… i can do my best, though…”

She sighed, “[Y/n] is not so weak that she needs a demanding presence over her shoulder, but there is only so much she can do by herself. I just don't want anything to happen to her, but I cannot have her stay inside all day, either.”

Napstablook nodded slightly, “yeah… i’m not very social myself, but i still go out and talk to other people because i know it’s good for me…”

“Then please, tomorrow once [Y/n] and I have breakfast, come by and take her out to have some fun.”

“yes, miss toriel… i can do that…”

“And Napstablook?”

“ah, yes?”

Toriel looked at him with desperation, “Please… Please don’t share this information about my dear [Y/n]. There’s no telling what might happen if word got out that an adult human is living in the Underground.”

⁠────

Napstablook smiles at your eagerness, and content as you take a seat on the piano stool. This place is small and doesn’t have a lot of variety in instruments. But you don't seem to mind at all, in fact, you were super excited to go to the different instruments going “Lookie!”

“Not to give myself a congratulatory slap on the ass cheek, buuuut I’m pretty mediocre when it comes to the piano.” You… gloat?

“aw, i’m sure you’re great…”

“Oh, I was just joking, Blooky.”

“oh……. so-”

“-If you apologize one more time, I’m gonna sing your praises passive-aggressively. Want me to do that again?”

Oh, God. 10 minutes ago you had stopped him in the middle of the street and started yelling nice things at him! It caused a scene (only 2 monsters were watching) and your kind words brought him to tears! You said things like: “Oh, look at me! I’m Blooky! Everyone is always so happy to see me, and the room gets brighter when I float in!”

THAT’S… THAT’S SO??? NICE? BUT CONFUSING?!

So no, Napstablook is not looking forward to that again.

He frantically shakes his head, “n-no…! no, i’ll stop apologizing…”

“Aaanyway! I can play a few songs on the piano. I only bothered learning when I was in my Theater Kid Arc™.” You tell him, “I think I know just the one, too. Ready to hear my tunes?”

“yeah, let's hear what you got…!”

You make a show of popping your fingers dramatically before playing…

“It’s Raining Somewhere Else.”

Yep. You’re hella corny like that. You know a few Undertale tracks because Undertale was at its fucking peak while you were in high school. And no, the Undertale OST is not the only music you bothered to learn, but how are you not going to play absolute banger?

You never managed to learn “Megalovania,” though. You learned the other variations of it, such as those really sad piano cover versions that people go crazy over. You don't know if you remember it well, though. Ah, but one of your other favorite ones was always “Waterfall” since they were just lovely.

Anyway, short story long, you know how to play piano originally to woo your old love in theater club, and guess what mother fuckers?! It fucking worked so it paid off!

In any case, Napstablook looks like he’s really enjoying it! You guess you could say…

It was…

Resonating with his soul!

Ahh, you’re so funny!

Anyway, it seems some monsters are coming closer to listen in. Oh boy, guess you’ll have a chance to show off those songs too if they think you’re here to perform.

⁠────

After getting you back to Toriel and agreeing to visit again tomorrow, Napstablook leaves the Ruins with a smile on his face, and a pep to his ghostly… floating? He left in a good mood, and for once, he was looking forward to hanging out with someone again. He’s humming that first song you played on the piano, wondering if you’d appreciate him trying to replicate the tune to make into a remix-

“napstablook.”

“AHH!!”

The ghost spins around with fear and tears in his eyes, clutching his invisible pearls close. He sighs heavily in relief and slight irritation when he sees who it is. The skeleton monster is sitting casually by the big bush right outside the Ruins’ doors. Sans’ grin widens slightly while he pushes himself to stand.

“ah, sans… it's… it's just you…” Napstablook wants to cry, “were… were you waiting for me the whole time…?”

“nah, i got here a short while ago and took a nap,” Sans answers honestly with a shrug, “so? what happened? what did the lady want from you?”

Oh, right. Napstablook was supposed to be some kind of double agent. But now that he knows the situation is different, he can’t help but feel bad that he originally had ulterior motives.

“uhm… i’m not sure if it's okay for me to say…” Napstablook looks away.

Sans feels his eye socket twitch. “oh, come on, bud. was it really that bad?”

“it's not that, but i was asked not to tell…”

“it’s a little too late for that, don’tcha think? I already know there’s a human in the ruins.”

“right…”

The ghost sighs heavily. Well… it should be fine if he just doesn't tell Sans too much, right? He doesn't think Sans is malicious and will abuse this information, but Toriel specifically asked him NOT to share about you.

“well, miss toriel wanted-ah, toriel is that monster lady who asked for me.”

“huh? oh, uh, good to know.”

“all miss toriel wanted was… she just wanted me to hang out with the human…”

“…? and?”

Napstablook shrugs the best he can, “that’s it. we went to the small city in the ruins and hung out at the music store… she’s really good at playing piano, you would’ve liked it, i think…”

…HAH?

“huh…” Sans furrows his brow-bones together, “did toriel say why?”

THIS part Napstablook feels like he really shouldn't share at all. Maybe he can lie by omission.

“uh… just that she’s lonely…”

“…uh huh…”

“this human is really nice, you know…” Napstablook continues to say, feeling as if he should defend your honor, “she said she doesn't wanna leave the ruins any time soon, so i don’t think you have anything to worry about…”

Sans snorts, “i’m not worried about, anything, buddy.”

“but yesterday you said you were worried…”

Curses! He’s been caught!

“meh, things change.” Sans shrugs, “so, what's the human’s name, huh?”

“……………i can't say.”

“oh-really?”

“sorry, sans,” Napstablook says immediately at the other's deadpan tone, “but miss toriel asked me not to say anything, to begin with…”

The skeleton monster resists the urge to run his hand down his face. He supposes he should’ve expected this. Napstablook is a good egg and willing to help out, but he’s too straight-laced. And the thing is, Sans could easily find a shortcut into the Ruins to see for himself, but he’s sure the other monsters would say something about a mysterious skeleton sighting.

“nah, i get it. thanks anyway, bud,” Sans gives the anxious ghost a friendly wink, “i gotta stay out here anyway, but you’re free to go.”

“oh… okay… see you later, sans…….”

“see ya.”

Napstablook doesn’t think he can handle it any longer, and just straight up fades away to avoid being looked at. Ugh, he was having a good time, but now he wants to go home, lay down and feel like garbage.

Tag List

@lemonboy011

#fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #don't forget fanfiction #sans undertale #sans x reader #undertale #sans #toriel #napstablook

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mariailoveyou-guerin · 1 year

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Nathan Shelly I love you, you have never done anything wrong in your life boo never! people making him into a villain just because he didn’t wanna be in environment where he was treated like shit and bullied for years by rich spoiled fotballer like be for real but Jamie who y’all forgave like that and whom y’all love now bc he was nice for 1 season and whom y’all want to be gay all is sudden is forgiven and loved by the fandom I wonder why? but Nate isn’t but is made to be the villain bc he left a horrible bullying toxic privileged spoiled people environment that didn’t appreciate or acknowledge him and Colin the rest get to treat him like shit Colin literally was worse “did I stutter kitman” at least Jamie was trash to eveyone not just Nate sure him more but still Colin had no reason to be that horrible to Nate and now bc one has horrible garbage dad and the other is yt twink loser they get a pass? not on my watch never on my watch is a boring yt twink whos whole story is he’s a twink ever gonna or the hag losers who relate to him gonna make my boy feel like the villain maybe your loser twink shouldnt act like hes majo dude by being a horrible person first if I’m supposed to care about him

I’m sorry but nah I like Colin now but the way he was treating Nate in season 1 bullying and the only reason he apologized was bc the real majo dude he imitated when he was bullying Nate told him to! Fcvk that Colin the way y’all stand up for or have amnesia when your boring yt meow yt fav does something or forgive him in heartbeat bc he has a sad backstory bad dad or he’s just a bland basic twink but will vilify demonize a poc character for giving back just small part of what they gave him is insane not surprising tho same old shit in fandoms vilifying poc but find excuses or puts your yt meow meow twink or broken boy on pedestal never giving them the same treatment vilfy dehumanize the poc but have so much compassion understand feel for empathize and have excuses for the yt character! the double standard hypocrisy of it all I’m so mf tired even tho its the same bull shit in every fandom I’m tired!y’all expect so much from poc characters have such high expectations for y’all to even like care or acknowledge them as humans they can never do say anything wrong especially never to ur yt fav def never to a yt twink!

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ekowolf · 7 months

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Trying to get my brain to stop so here is a bit of an excerpt from a story i’m writing for Supercorptober-Control. It’s fine if it’s hot garbage I just need it out of my head.

Synopsis: Lena was taught to control at a very young age. Control her emotions, control her actions, control perceptions, control her looks—control, control, control. But there was something Lena couldn’t control no matter how hard she tried and it was infecting her life—her nightmares. It was only a matter of time before her house of cards came crashing down all around her.

-Control-

(TW: Nightmares and very vague reference to SA)

“You shouldn’t be here.” Lena opened the door and immediately turned to walk deeper into her penthouse, her back to Kara.

“W-what?” Kara’s stood frozen at the door for a moment before following behind her girlfriend. Her eyes burned as she tried to sort through what she was hearing.

Kara was hoping to surprise Lena when Jess informed her that Lena went home early after having a very off day today.

The super had not seen her girlfriend in five days after being pulled into a Flash mission on another earth and she just wanted to spend some time together.

This was the exact opposite reaction she was expecting from her presence.

Kara followed behind Lena as her eyes bore into the young woman’s back, praying to Rao she misheard her.

Lena reached for a glass on an open-air shelf, before turning to the sink, her hair shielding her from kara. She filled the glass with water, hands shaking, her voice just above a whisper, “I was stupid to think I could have this—any of this. I don’t deserve love like this—like you.”

“First off, you are not stupid. I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk about my girlfriend like that but Lena, you’re worrying me…what are you trying to tell me? You aren’t making sense, baby, of course you deserve love,” Kara tried as hard as she could to not raise her voice but it was difficult when her favorite human was self deprecating herself.

Kara deposited the Chinese carry-out on the island before walking over to her girlfriend still standing behind the sink.

“Don’t you understand, I have this darkness inside me and it reaches out to infect everything in its path. My past is a plague and there is no vaccine, Kara.” Lena’s voice was monotone but held a depth of sadness not even Kara with all the powers of the sun could reach.

Lena picked up her head, her hair falling away from her face. Kara held in a gasp. Lena had massive wells of darkness beneath each eye, the whites of which were bloodshot. Exhausted wasn’t the right word, it didn’t go far enough for how tired Lena looked.

Lena didn’t even notice Kara’s worried expression, “I can usually contain it—control it—keep it away from everyone I love, but something is wrong…I can’t get them to stop,” Lena looked at Kara for the first time since she arrived at her door a few minutes ago…or was it hours…she wasn’t sure, time had been moving strangely for a while now.

Lena watched the gears turning inside her girlfriends head, her favorite blue eyes filled with tears but she wasn’t sure why.

Even more intrusive thoughts of never wanting to be the cause of harm to anyone, especially Kara, flooded her brain on repeat. In obsessive moments like these she would have a ritual that would help keep the thoughts more quiet. This time though they were secondary to the flood of emotions welling up inside her chest like lightning traveling the path of least resistance to find ground—it needed out.

Lena tipped her head back letting the water splash in her nauseous stomach before placing it in the dishwasher on autopilot.

She walked around the island and started pacing in the living room. She is supposed to keep it all locked up tight in boxes nobody is ever supposed to know exist.

Everyone she touches is covered in her darkness. It’s just better if she carries it alone so she doesn’t cut anyone with her sharpness.

But her mask has been falling, she can feel it as it slides, just too tired to keep it upright anymore.

It seemed the more she tried to control it the less control she actually had. Like quicksand the more she struggled the more it dragged her down to the abyss.

She could feel it. Kara was going to see.

“Forget the movie night, l-let’s go to bed, baby. You need sleep. Everything you are feeling is valid but we can talk about it in the morning after you rest, okay?” Kara was slowly getting closer, her arms up like she was trying to corral a wild animal.

“You aren’t getting it, Kara! I want to never wake up but I also never want to sleep again…I-I’m being torn apart. They won’t stop.” Her long fingers ghosted around her own throat as if she felt the echo of another time.” Lena shivered and started to stare off past Kara.

Her mind floated away from the room, away from Kara, What kind of person is plagued by nightmares every single time they close their eyes to sleep?

What grown ass adult pees the bed because they are terrified?

What if Kara wanted to know what was haunting her? It would be just like he said “you will infect everyone if you tell, it will be all they ever see.”

“B-baby…come back to me,” Kara’s voice was so far away but simultaneously right next to her. “That’s it, follow my voice, baby.”

Lena returned back to her body or maybe not, she wasn’t sure. Her body didn’t feel like her own anymore and everything vibrated to a frequency nobody could hear, even her voice didn’t sound like her own as it whispered, “I feel as if I’m laying there in a desert decaying, there’s birds circling overhead and over and over they swoop down to claim for themselves the last bit of flesh from my bones. I-I’m so scared all the time. There’s nothing left of me, Kara. I- feel like I’m disappearing.”

Lena’s legs cannot hold the weight of it all anymore and she falls to her knees. Kara catches her and cradles her in her arms, “Shhh I’ve got you, I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #katie mcgrath #no sleep club #supercorptober2023 #ao3 #supercorp ficlet #soundcloud #supercorp fanfiction #tw nightmares #nightmare #trauma #ao3 fanfic #supercorptober

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titus-androgynous-87 · 3 months

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Almost all caught up with Love is Blind (just a bit left in the last newest episode). And all of these men are garbage. Like these women made a wish over a bunch of overflowing dumpsters and now they have to teach these trash monsters how to be humans

The women have their own flaws and issues, for sure. But these men make my butthole pucker, as my mother likes to say. None of them ever have anything positive or kind to say about ANYONE, let alone their partners. And constantly trying to fuck other people from the pods

Lying about being engaged, lying about their jobs and looks and goals. And for what? A few hundred more IG followers and a damp dick that don’t work because you drink more vodka than water?

A half-baked reality circuit career where no one falls for your shit because you can’t act to save your fucking life (y’all can’t even gaslight effectively, how you gonna sigma alpha bro your way out of situations of your own making)? An ego boost you clearly don’t need? External validation because your dad never hugged you or said he was proud of you? Forcing people to spend time with you because your toxic personality has alienated everyone around you, but it can’t be YOUR fault! No! It’s not YOUR fault you’re a raging narcissist fuckstick who only views women as holes to pathetically fail stick your aforementioned broke wet rope dick into and then cum on her knee and tell her she should feel grateful you fucked her because she’s ugly (all while looking like a melted tickle me Elmo with your coke-and-alcohol flush and botched chin implants)

I’m sorry I just really hate straight men, and fuck these assholes in particular. This season is a disaster, and not in a fun way

Between this and the Sandoval Apology Tour 2024, I’m so tired and done with reality TV

#I was really rooting for Kenneth and Brittany #but god he is such an avoidant cocksucker #be a man and break up with her and ADMIT you’re scared she won’t be able to raise Black children #that’s something you need to TALK ABOUT #and you’re a principal?#a FAITH LEADER???#sir if I was in your church #I’d disavow your sermons as heresy and divest from the congregation #because you can’t even keep your own house in order #how you gonna shepherd a congregation?#love is blind

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alvallah · 7 months

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What was the worst date you ever went on?

Girl [gender neutral]. Fourth of July. This year of our Lord, 2023.

Boy is kinda hard to nail down with his schedule, which is fine. Shit happens. He’s open on the 4th though, and the 4th is supposed to be beautiful anyways so I’m like okay cool, but I have a paddle scheduled with my friends during the day, is dinner in the evening cool? And he says yeah. I tell him it’s a federal holiday though so you might wanna call a couple places while I’m out just to see what everyone’s hours are, and I agreed to pick him up and drive since he’s fresh from LA and doesn’t have a car (also fine, idc).

Boy doesn’t answer me like all day. Evening comes. I ask him what’s up. He says “why don’t we just meet at my place and I can cook us something”. I’m not an idiot. Dude just wants a fuck and I don’t do that on the first date anymore because I’m grown and I’m tired and I don’t wanna give pussy to just anybody, even if it’s casual. I gotta know I at least like you. I tell him this, and I tell him I prefer to meet in a public place at a restaurant before I agree to more intimate dates. He says okay. But he hasn’t called any places. It’s 8:00 PM. On a federal holiday.

On my way to get him (which is like a 30 minute drive, annoying but also normal where I live), he texts me “we can choose a place when you get here” 🙄. I get there. We sit in my car for like 15 mins while he goes through a list of like 6 different places. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since noon. I’m hangry. He suggests we walk around the downtown and drop in someplace. We do that. We are refused at two places that are closing. We’re still walking around an EMPTY downtown on a HOLIDAY while I’m STARVING and other couples are probably hanging out watching fireworks and shit. He’s trying to butter me up by telling me how pretty I look and shit but I’m avoiding eye contact and giving one word answers.

I tell him I’m starving. I will eat anything at this point. The only place open is some gas station pizza place. It’s 10 PM now. Dude spends a lot of the time bantering with the pizza people while I’m silently waiting to get food in my mouth. He pays for everything (as he fucking should at this point) and we sit down. He gets up because he forgot napkins. Chats up the girl outside for a couple mins ??? He comes back. We’re talking. He answers a phone call in the middle of a conversation to talk with his boy, he mentions he has a date but he’s like ignoring me anyways and keeps talking on the phone ??? He finally hangs up and doesn’t even apologize. And as we’re talking I learn that he’s petty and always feels the need to resort to “eye-for-an-eye” when it comes to conflict. And he slaps his animals.

I drive him back to his house and fucker tries to kiss me and I SWERVE the kiss so hard lmao he texts me the next day asking for another date and I say no and he acts surprised. Bruh. I didn’t get home until like 1 AM after everything and literally nothing went right and you couldn’t plan for shit and you’re a garbage and unprofessional human being. Fuck out of here.

#sorry this is so long but UGH #also I had another guy try to sell me a conspiracy on UFOs but yeah #asks #about me

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marta-bee · 1 year

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There’s a reposted tweet making the rounds, of how a world where humans do the hard workthrough low-paid jobs while robots make art and literature wasn’t the future they imagined, and it’s getting under my skin. I really don’t think it’s meant the way I’m reading it. There’s probably a bit of tonedeafness excused by being in pain from the people sharing it, or me imposing my own thoughts on it. Probably a bit of both. Still, it’s bothering me, and better out than in I think.

See, there are quite a lot of working class people, white men in particular, who’ve found a lot of purpose and dignity in doing physically hard jobs; and suffered from the loss of that purpose and dignity when those jobs were mechanized. Manual labor like mining and lumbering trees, factory jobs, even menial jobs at big box stores.

Subjective dignity, I mean: they felt dignified by doing good honest work that required strength, or, more recently, persevering through whatever the boss-man threw at you. At being able to provide for their families, or the illusion of that as the actual wages made it harder and harder to do just that. I don’t think it’s particularly good dignity, and I wish the found that purpose in building communities and actually loving and raising their kids and supporting their friends and what-not. (Not that working-class people don’t do that, too.) I personally think any job that can be done by a robot should, so long as we find a way to share society’s resources so those not needed to do mechanizable labor can still live a good life. (And that’s the tricky bit, isn’t it?) But the fact I disagree with where they found that dignity doesn’t change the fact that they’re experiencing a loss through mechanization and automation. Loss of purpose, of power and control over their lives, of pride at accomplishing something hard and being able to make life easier for the people they love.

What I hear in things like that tweet is people saying that hard word those people took such pride and purpose from is garbage work, fit only for machines, whereas art is the proper work of humans. Which feels dismissive toward the pain of people not like them, who never assumed art could be a career, or a full-time endeavor. Mostly they were too tired to do much of it at all. It seems classist if I was going to put an -ist label on it. And that stings, because I remember being a doctoral student in a program with people who grew up with a lot more money than I had, who had this sort of confidence that sitting around and thinking about theory was their assumed and rightful place. I had to scrounge to fund my education, and most of my family and friends and neighbors were much more likely to work their asses off in factories or at Walmart than they were to be disappointed they had to work as baristas while they waited on their art or writing or music to make them enough money they didn’t have to do that anymore.

As I said, I really don’t think this kind of talk was meant this way. I feel silly even putting it into words, and I certainly don’t mean to be flippant toward folks who do create art professionally or hope to. But seeing the work a lot of people around me found purpose in as the kind of job fit only for machines? That’s hit a bit close to home.

The meaning I’m taking from the whole AI shitstorm is that people need something meaningful to work for, and ideally they need to find it in a place that’s actually worthy of giving them meaning, something authentically dignifying; and that being told, no, this thing you thought let you be worthy of respect and dignity is actually easily done by machines and people only care about the output and not what you put into it? Well, that hurts, no matter who you are. Unity and mutual support between blue-collars and creative-types, and maybe (dare we dream) finding a way to put bread on all our plates so we’re free to invest in the stuff that matters. Not making yourself feel better because really you’re better than those people who are rightly replaceable by robots, no matter what the boss tries to do.

I don’t know. Probably I’m reading too much into this attitude; or writing over it with my own insecurities that really don’t have anything to do with what’s being said. Still: it’s pressing a nerve, and that nerve’s aching quite badly, no doubt about it.

#marta blathers #ai #class politics #personal

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97-liners · 1 year

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hiiii congrats on 2k!! deserved 👏👏👏 love how you play with language and set the mood and write dialogues ^^

for my request: sensory prompt 63. indigo skies before dawn + supernatural!vernon or maybe royalty, up to u :D

63. indigo skies before dawn | supernatural/fantasy au | this is a teen drama wrapped in a modern fantasy setting

HI IM GARBAGE. i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for WELL OVER half a year now and i’ve been feeling so guilty that i can’t just bring myself to finish it. so i’m absolving myself of my sins (a lie) and just posting my unfinished draft. FORGIVE ME 😭😭😭😭

words: 3.8k; progress: ~25%

Hansol always makes it feel so easy.

Tonight, he comes into the convenience store just before 3am, dressed in a denim jacket pulled over a plain gray hoody and gray sweats. With a wave of a hand, he tugs one of his earbuds out and greets you with a casual “‘sup?”

“Hi Vernon,” you grin at him from behind the register. “Staying up late again?”

“Yeah,” he says nonchalantly as he grabs a triangle kimbap and a can of peach soda from the refrigerated section, “I have a big project due tomorrow.”

You raise an eyebrow and begin to check him out at the register. “Should you be working on that?”

Hansol shrugs. “Yeah, but I’d rather hang out with you for a while.”

“Fine then.” You grin and lean forward, resting your chin on one hand. At this time of night, the street is empty and silent and the washed-out bright glow flooding the convenience store is beginning to make your eyes hurt. “What are you working on these days? Did you finish that song from last week?”

Hansol offers you one of his earbuds, tilting his head in a silent nod for you to listen. You lean across the counter and take it, and you wait for the music to start.

The first time you meet Hansol, it’s nearly midnight and you’re the only person working. The convenience store is nestled in a quiet human residential area on the edge of the city, an area that gets nearly no traffic in the small hours of night save for the occasional tipsy businessman smelling of soju and grilled meat, stumbling in for a bottle of water and some hangover relief drink mix before returning home.

That night, Hansol comes in and you watch, tired and bored, as he saunters through the automatic sliding doors in his ripped jeans and leather jacket, a cap tugged low over his eyes.

Of course you recognize him. You’re not stupid, after all, or totally out of the loop despite the stereotypes. You’d have to be totally dense not to recognize Choi Hansol. Even if he hasn’t been in the public eye for years, you still remember what his face looked like, bright and innocent, just a child standing on a balcony in front of millions. You know who he is, but you don’t react, simply because you’re too tired and self-absorbed in your own internal turmoil to.

You watch, disinterested, as he wanders up and down the aisles and grabs various snacks and junk food, bobbing his head to whatever music is being piped through his headphones. When he gets to the counter with his instant ramen and peach yogurt, he tugs off his headphones and lets them hang around his neck and looks up at you, almost cautiously.

“Will that be all for you tonight?” You keep your expression neutral and your face blank, and Hansol nearly breathes a sigh of relief. He’s so obvious, you can’t help but to think that it’s kind of cute.

“Yeah,” he says, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “Can you heat up the ramen for me?”

That surprises you more than anything. Most customers use the attached charm on the underside of the lid to heat up their ramen. Maybe the rumors are true– you remember the gossip back when he had stepped down and passed the crown to his younger sister. Apparently, he’s a dud, you remember one of the city vampires, Jeonghan, telling you when he had visited your sire. Jihoon doesn’t really care for mortal business, so naturally you had been out of the loop, only informed when Jeonghan had visited from the city with new clothes and the latest model of cell phone for you. You remember thinking that it was an unnecessarily cruel thing to say about a teenager, but then again, you had been too wrapped up in your bloodlust and still barely-controlled violent urges to really care much about human drama.

“Sure thing,” you say to Hansol, still not letting anything show on your face. You open the ramen package and turn around to fill it with cold water from the dispenser behind the counter, and then you close the paper lid and fold the tab over the lip of the styrofoam bowl. With a press of your hand against the lid, the charm activates and a few seconds later, the water is bubbling and the bowl is steaming. “Be careful,” you warn, placing the ramen on the counter in front of Hansol. He pays with his cell phone and takes his food, bringing it with him to the counter by the window.

Hansol settles on one of the stools and turns to face you as he waits for his ramen to finish cooking. “Are you new to the city?”

You had just settled back down in your book, so it takes you a second ot realize that he had been talking to you. Slowly, you look up from the page you’re on and at Hansol, who watches you expectantly. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he says, “your accent. You sound like you’re from the country.” His heartbeat is relaxed and his face is open, curious. It doesn’t look like he has any ulterior motives, so even though it’s a little weird of him to strike up a personal conversation with the convenience store worker, you decide to indulge him.

“Yeah. I just moved here two weeks ago. My family moved here, and I wanted to be closer to them.” It’s not a lie– while you were still coming to terms with your new body, your brother baby brother had gone and grown up, graduated college, gotten married, and moved to Seoul. And when your parents found out that his wife was pregnant, they had moved to the city too. And by the time you were stable enough to rejoin society, although Jihoon had advised against it, you wanted to be there too. You’re one of the lucky ones– your parents had wanted you back, despite everything.

“Cool,” Hansol nods. “How are you adjusting?”

“It’s… overwhelming,” you admit, “I feel like I don’t belong. It’s big and noisy, but it’s lonely.” The other night, while you were trying to find a post office open 24 hours, you had accidentally touched a door handle plated in silver, clearly of an anti-Other establishment, and you’re still nursing the blisters on your fingertips. In your past life, you’re not sure it you ever even noticed the silver-plated doors everywhere.

Hansol nods again, sympathetically. The way he listens to you feels sincere in a way that not a lot of people do. “I bet. You’ll get used to it, though,” he says, offering a little smile. “The city’s like that in a weird way. It so big, and at first, you feel like you’ll never fit in, but you start leaving your imprint on the city, and the city molds to fit you. Everybody gets used to it eventually, the city makes sure of it.”

“You talk about Seoul like it’s alive,” you laugh.

“Isn’t it though?” He tilts his head inquisitively.

You pause, considering his words for a moment. The concrete and wires are still, but the bright headlights and masses of beings pulsing through the highways and squeezing in the subways and buses are more alive than anything else you’ve experienced before.

“I mean, you’re here, in this convenience store, checking people out and heating up ramen in the middle of the night,” he points out. “Right now, this little piece of Seoul is alive, because of you.”

You press your mouth into a tight line, lips suddenly feeing shaky. Hansol stares at you with those dark, sharp eyes, fidding with the plastic sleeve of the disposable chopsticks in his hands. You inhale slightly, just enough to fill your lungs with the air to say “that makes me feel better. Thank you.”

“Vernon,” he says, face breaking into a grin. It’s a ridiculous smile, with all three billion of his teeth, but it’s a good smile regardless. “I’m Vernon.”

Returning his smile, you repeat the name, testing it out in your mouth. “Vernon.”

It’s just after the end of your shift and you’re walking home, headphones on, jacket slung loosely over your shoulders, listening to the kind of music that always reminds you what it feels like to be human. The night is cold, but you don’t feel uncomfortable, walking past buzzing orange streetlights and passing darkened windows. It’s 5 AM, and it’s just you and the moon. When you were younger, you used to savor these moments. It used to be a reprieve from the heat and noise of home, where you, your parents, and your brother were all cramped into the tight little flat, arguing and watching TV and listening to the radio and cooking and doing homework. But now, it just feels lonely. It makes you feel hollow, even as you sip at the little foil juice packet in your hand and let the metallic tang of blood flood your mouth.

You turn the corner to the little alley that the entrance to your apartment is on, and to your surprise, you see Hansol sitting on the steps leading up to the building across the street from yours. He’s looking down at his phone and is nursing a cigarette, a can of coke zero on the concrete by his feet.

“Vernon,” you say, half out of surprise, half because you’re just oddly glad to see him. “Do you live here?”

He looks up and as soon as he meets your eyes, he grins, a big goofy smile spreading across his face. “Oh, hey. Did you just get off work?”

You nod, and without waiting for an invitation, you toss your backpack to the ground and sit on the step next to him. Hansol wordlessly offers a cigarette, and you accept. Back when you had just been turned, you used to live on cigarettes because it would help to curb your uncontrollable thirst and calm you down from the bloodlust that new vampires are prone to. You’re less dependent on them these days, but it doesn’t hurt. Anything to feel human.

“I don’t live here, by the way,” he says, taking a nearly empty lighter from his pocket. You lean in to light the cigarette off the weak flame, and in the process, you catch a deep whiff of his scent, almost shuddering at how sweet and warm he smells. Like cinnamon and hot chocolate. Hansol goes on with his explanation, “my friend is a werewolf and asked me to wait here and let him in when he gets back.”

Your ears prick at the mention of another Other. Hansol still doesn’t know about you, but the casual way he mentions it makes you feel just a bit less nervous around him.

“You’re a really good friend, then,” you grin at him.

Hansol shrugs. “It’s just once a month, and his roommate is sick. Plus, he can’t pick up his keys and unlock the door with his wolfy paws and all.”

“I forgot it was the full moon,” you admit. “Probably should have been a bit more careful walking home from work,” you say, even though you’re fairly certain you have nothing to be afraid of save for bigots with wooden stakes.

“Nah, the wolves in this city are nothing to be afraid of,” he says, lifting his shoulders in a half-shrug. “There’s, like, three major packs here, and they all run a tight ship. Zero tolerance for anything that could get them in trouble and all.”

“Oh. That’s good to hear.” You wonder if there’s any other vampires your age in Seoul– the only other ones you know are open about their situation and well-established in the community, hundreds of years old. Jeonghan is nice to you, but it feels weird thinking of him as anything other than an elder.

“You live around here?”

“Yeah.” You point to the apartment across the narrow street. The metal gate is rusting and plastered over with old fliers. “That’s my apartment.”

“Nice,” Hansol nods. “It’s kind of a far walk from the convenience store.”

“I usually take the bus there,” you say. “And I don’t mind walking at night.”

“Hm,” Hansol tilts his head, like he’s thinking, as he ashes his cigarette. There’s a small tattoo on the shell of his ear, you notice. A simple protective charm. It’s roughly drawn, but clearly crafted by someone who loves him.

“Anyways, Did you watch the last episode of Reply 1999?”

Talking to Hansol is easy. It’s all mindless conversation that doesn’t mean anything, but it flows like water, and the way Hansol always makes eye contact with you makes you feel like he’s really listening to you.

Absentmindedly, you run your fingers along the scar on the back of your neck where your mother’s protective charm used to be, before it had been burned up by the curse.

“Wait.” You turn your head to the opening of the alleyway when that deep, creature part of you tugs at your attention and makes your skin prickle. You barely resist the instinct to extend your fangs at the intrusion, relaxing only when a large wolf steps into view and Hansol stands. The wolf pads down the street, regarding you suspiciously.

“Hey, hyung,” Hansol grins at the wolf. “This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Mingyu.”

My friend. His words echo in your mind. Friend. Hansol thinks you’re his friend. You let yourself dwell on it for just a moment, basking in the warmth of the word, before turning your attention back at the wolf, who still regards you cautiously, crouched like he’s getting ready to run. You narrow your eyes at him, trying your best to wordlessly tell him not to blow it for you. Be chill, you think, please.

“It’s okay,” Hansol says, “Y/N is nice.”

The wolf huffs, tossing his large head, but evidently trusts Hansol’s judgment, because he steps past you and starts pawing at the lock on the door.

“I gotta let him in,” Hansol tells you. “You should probably go to sleep too.”

You look up at the sky, which is beginning to lighten. In a few moments, the sun will be nudging at the horizon and turning the world yellow-orange, and then that bright endless blue that you can only see in your dreams and memories anymore. “Thanks for chatting, Vernon,” you say as you drop the cigarette on the ground and step on the butt to extinguish it. “I’ll see ya around.”

“Yeah,” he says as he sides the key into the lock and pushes open the gate to Mingyu’s apartment, “see ya!”

(You're on the bus on the way to work when Jeonghan calls you.

"Are you busy?"

You glance out the window. "No, but I have 3 stops left before I get to work."

"Perfect, how much college did you finish before you were turned?"

"College?" You furrow your eyebrows. "One year, why?"

"Excellent," Jeonghan says, "do me a favor and write to your registrar to have those records released."

You huff out a short bark of laughter. "Jeonghan, what are you talking about?"

"I can get you into Seoul National University's undergraduate pre-law program. I know you're smart enough, and I'm fairly certain you'll be accepted to the law school easily."

"But--"

"It's a hybrid program," he continues, steamrolling on, "half online and half night classes, and I personally know that the law school makes special accommodations for Others. It's where I went, after all, for my second law degree a few years ago."

"Second?!"

"Yeah, turns out a JD earned in 1923 doesn't mean much in 2009." You can almost imagine the way Jeonghan flippantly waves his hand as he speaks. "Long story short, I'm getting tired of being one of seven vampire lawyers in this city, and I want you as my protege. Don't worry about tuition, I can foot the bill, easily. I have land investments I've been sitting on for over two hundred years. Society has changed too, you'd be surprised how well-received vampires are in higher education. A good handful of the most respected professors at SNU are vampires themselves."

You chew on your lip. The scar on the back of your neck prickles. "I don't know if I can do it, Jeonghan."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and then Jeonghan sniffs. "Of course you can do it. You're brilliant, and I understand this is the path you would have likely taken if it weren't for the incident. Jihoon wouldn't have introduced me to you if he wasn't confident in your abilities, and I trust Jihoon's judgement."

Jeonghan's words hit you half a second later. "Jihoon was involved?”

"I'm always on the lookout for a bright young vampire, and he called me to visit you as soon as you were coherent enough to string two words together. Think of him a bit like a talent scout."

You hesitate, phone still held tightly to your ear.

“Jihoon may be prickly,” Jeonghan says, “but he’s a responsible sire. He doesn’t let any of his fledglings go into the world without sound prospects.”

You hold your breath, hand over your mouth, pressed tightly against your lips. Around you, the bus rattles on as it continues on its route, past restaurants and darkened salons and shuttered fruit stores. You sit still, feeling the city move past you.

“Think about it, Y/N. If you want to start this winter, I’ll need your information by the end of August.”

“Okay,” you respond numbly.

“And,” he adds, voice gentle, “remember, just because you’ve died once before doesn’t mean you have to stop living. You and I, we both feel, think, hope, and love, just as we did when we were human. We’re alive.”

Swallowing down a gasp, your fingertips dig into the soft, cold flesh of your cheek. Your chest feels hollow, where your heart used to beat.

“You have a right to be alive, to live, now, just as much as when you were human,” he finishes quietly.)

Nine hours later, you’re still mulling over the offer. You step out the back door of the convenience store at the end of your shift, Hansol is there waiting for you. He’s sitting on the curb with a bicycle next to him leaning against a lamppost, playing a mobile game on his phone.

You stop in your tracks.

The heavy metal door slams shut behind you and Hansol looks up at the noise. “Hey,” he says, putting down his phone, “hop on, I’ll give you a ride.”

You laugh a bit, a little incredulous. “You’ll give me a side on the back of your bike?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “It’s not a car or a motorcycle or anything cool like that, but I figure it’s better than walking. And anyways, the weather is nice and I like hanging out with you.”

“Oh.” Around the corner, you hear the chiming of the automatic door as a customer walks in. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies. “Are you getting on or what?”

“Yeah, sure.” You pull your tote bag to your front and carefully straddle the metal rack mounted on the bike, sitting so that your bag (holding your wallet, a cardigan, and two packs of blood) is nestled safely over your stomach.

“Sorry I don’t have a cushion or a real seat or anything,” Hansol says. He starts pedaling and the bicycle wobbles dangerously a few times, and you have to resist the urge to lean the opposite direction.

“Are you sure you know how to do this,” you laugh, leaning forward so that your chin is a breath away from his shoulder. You can’t see his face, but you know from the shape of his cheeks that he’s grinning.

“Yeah, I used to give my sister rides all the time.”

“And when was that?”

“When she was 10.”

“Well I think I’m heavier than a 10 year old.”

Hansol shrugs. “And I’m heavier than a 14 year old. And I’m stronger. And, it’s not that bad now that we’re moving, right?”

[more here]

“So,” Hansol says as he pedals you home, “I can’t pick you up tomorrow. I have a family thing.”

You almost laugh. As always, you’re perched on the wire rack on the back of his bike with his jacket folded under your butt to pad the metal. The edge of the sky is beginning to lighten and glow a dim gray blue. “It’s okay, the store is closed tomorrow for Coronation Day anyway.”

Nearly the whole city is shutting down tomorrow for the 20th anniversary celebrations for the king’s coronation. You think you have some idea of what Hansol will be doing tomorrow, but you’re not going to pry.

He doesn’t seem fazed at the mention of Coronation Day, though. “Oh, cool.”

"What are you gonna do then?"

You shrug even though you know he can't see it. "My sister in law had a baby a few weeks ago, so I think I'm going to buy some expensive fruit and visit my new nephew."

"Oh, cool, I love babies," Hansol says, "I wish I could read their mind."

"Tell me about it," you laugh. "I used to say that all the time when my brother was little."

"Oh, he's younger than you?"

You blink, realizing your mistake. Yes, at one point he was four years younger than you, and he will always be four years younger than you. But now he has lines at the corners of his eyes and a new gray hair every month. He's almost a decade older than you now. Or, at least, his body is.

[more here]

(You wonder if you should tell Hansol that you had dreamed about him the other night. It was daytime in your dream, and he was walking his bike beside you going down one of the thousands of spindly side-streets nestled in Seoul. You’ve never seen him in the sunlight, but you can imagine— the way his soft hair shines brown in the daylight, the way the light reflects gold in his eyes.)

((A few days ago, you had called Jihoon. The first call went to voicemail, actually, but the second call went through. Jeonghan tells you that Jihoon usually never replies to anyone’s calls, but he’ll always think twice before hanging up on his brood.

“What,” Jihoon’s gruff voice sounds over the phone.

The confession spills out before you can stop it. “I think I’m in love.”

There’s a long pause over the line, and then you hear Jihoon sigh. “Oh, YN. You know you can’t do that.”

You know. But maybe you had hoped that this would be different somehow, that Jihoon would have the answer for you, like a magic spell that fixes everything. After all, he had saved your life once before.

#haezysol #ask #97.yn #97.writings

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