#I like how ingrained the idea of a true name is to most people

[2torm]

You know what u did with those colors.

Also yes, join the army of larp furries...

@2torm What if. I make a cat zooic. And then just start like. Sitting on tables at larp. Like this:

[abbyshands]

for you

🇵🇸 LINKS | before engaging !!! | m. list | join my tag list!

♡ synopsis; making a home out of catalina island for years on end had been wonderful, but for most of it, you had been derived of the last piece of the puzzle: abigail anderson. you were a skilled medic, so when abby had showed up, you had cared for her, and nursed her back to the girl she was, helping her to heal, and to find home the same way you had. now, it’s abby’s chance to return the favor.

♡ pairing; abby anderson x fem!reader

♡ warnings; lot of game references, some of which include infected, the WLF, plot of the first and second game, loss, violence, etc, general angst (ish) in the beginning, but fluffy at the end, i promise, reader loses her dad in the backstory, and there’s a heavily established backstory for the reader, abby uses nicknames (my love, babe, gorgeous), reader calls abby baby, just general angst n’ fluff tbh!

♡ a/n; sooo this idea has been sitting in my notes app for the longest time, and to be honest, i’m not sure how i feel about the finished product! i don’t think it’s my best work? i don’t know. i like the idea but i’m unsure about the way i executed it. maybe i’ll revisit it at some point, but this is what i’ve got for now ♡

♡ wc; 4.5k

divider creds !

YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS. APOCALYPSE.

If someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, you would’ve checked them for a bite mark.

Because they would have been losing their mind.

2034, and all the years beforehand, were years unforgettable. The person you were couldn’t imagine a life that wasn’t the one you had. Infected roamed, and danger lurked. But love prevailed.

And you were lucky to be a part of it.

You were born in Boston, Massachusetts in the 2010’s at an unlucky hour. To an unlucky life. You had lost your mom before you could say your own name, and the only biological family you had ever gotten to know in your life was your dad, who was the reason you were where you were today in the first place.

When you were young, your dad joined a group once asked to by the leader of it, a woman named Marlene. Since then, and for as long as you could remember, this group has been your place to call home.

They called themselves the Fireflies for the very bug they took the name from: Their goal was to spread luminescence in a world full of darkness. Your dad, who was an incredibly skilled medic, was roped into it when you were younger, for that very reason. And because of the group’s dire need for medics at the time, their leader, Marlene, who was an old friend of your dad’s, asked him to join, all but begged him to, really.

Your dad wasn’t one to deny anyone in need. It was in his nature, and it was why he was such a great medic. So, of course, he agreed.

But only if there would be a place for you, too.

Your dad raised you up as a member of the Fireflies, and then later as a medic, and it was because of him that you were who you were: A resilient individual, a survivor, and yet, a person who embodied compassion, just as he did.

The years went by hazily, the older you got, anyway. You became just as immersed into your work as your dad did, bettering your medical knowledge on a daily basis, be it by old books, rusted cassettes, or your dad himself. But all the while, you managed to balance work, love, and family, and, in a world like this one, that was a lot more than most people could say.

For obvious reasons, you couldn’t remember the 2010’s. Then came the 2020’s, which sped by your eyes. But the 2030’s as a general consensus were years ingrained into your brain. Full of friendship, family, and love? At times. But they also encompassed chaos, despair, and pressure, and changed your life forever.

And forever was a long time.

In the year 2033, all that you believed was true about the world as you knew it, crumbled to the ground. In a land following an apocalypse, it wasn’t uncommon to feel as if there was no way out, as if the life you lived had hit a place of no return.

Now, if only there was a way to fix it. A cure, right?

It was late one evening while you were working on somebody in the Fireflies’ medical center, that Marlene came into the room, expression serious, and voice showing for it. Once you had the person you had been caring for under control, you followed Marlene out of the center, and into a room of a pair of people, one familiar, and one not.

Your dad, and a man who would later become a crucial figure in this tale: Surgical expert, Doctor Jerry Anderson.

You didn’t understand what Marlene, your dad, and Mr. Anderson, as you used to call him, were getting at when you were first pulled into that room. All that they were explaining to you was blurring inside of your head.

Because it was unlike anything you had heard before.

Your ears were told a tale that you had heard on numerous occasions. A girl who was only a few years younger than you, was bitten. You weren’t sure how. But it didn’t really matter, did it? Everyone who was bitten turned into an animal in a matter of days. It didn’t matter how she had gotten the bite mark. It didn’t even matter where on her body the mark was. All you knew was that in a few days, this girl that was being described to you, would no longer be human. That she would no longer have control over her body, and she would no longer know right from wrong, up from down, man from woman. All she would know, was kill. Kill. Kill.

Unless she was one in a million.

Ellie Williams was hardly a human in your mind when you originally heard, but a God given chance, to fix the world as you knew it. You never believed you would live to see the day where a bite mark was a good thing, and yet, it was here, gazing you in the eyes.

Immunity. She was immune. The auburn haired girl had been bitten three weeks prior to the date you heard about this, and zilch. As Marlene had explained to you, it was like the mark was healing, not worsening. 

And in a desolate world, where danger lurked every corner, where sorrow was normalized, and where loss was ceaseless, you were desperate. The Fireflies were desperate. Hope like this didn’t come on a daily basis, now, did it?

You jumped on the prospect as soon as you became conscious of it. All of you did.

Graciously unaware that it would blow up in your face.

In the earlier days of 2034, Ellie was smuggled to a Firefly base in Salt Lake City, a medical center, where your dad, Mr. Anderson, and several Fireflies were residing. As head medic by this point, you decided to remain in Boston caring for the members of your group back home, especially in the absence of your dad and Mr. Anderson.

It’s your life’s biggest regret.

Marlene had asked that you come to the Salt Lake City medical center as soon as you could, and to employ someone else to take over for a bit. Mr. Anderson was a good doctor, but he had decided that to perform proper surgery on Ellie, he would need a few more hands. You were honored that it was you he had chosen. To you, it was on the same level as getting an award. And so, alongside Marlene, and a few more members of the group, you made your way to Salt Lake City, your hopes in your hands, and dreams in your heart.

There was a point during the journey, however, where you ran into some trouble. Infected. And naturally, you were not just a medic: You knew how to survive in a world like this, and you knew how to hold your ground.

Splitting up wasn’t usually recommended when it came to any scenario, and for good reasons. However, it was your only choice. You and everyone beside you aside from Marlene, split up to make sure that she was the first one to make it to the medical center. You remember the last thing you said to her like a movie on loop in your head. See you soon.

And it plagues your brain like the virus that grips your world.

See you soon. You wish you had never said it. You wish you had never split up.

You wish it hadn’t happened.

You did see Marlene. But she was no longer alive when it happened. Fear grasped your bones as your body paralyzed, eyes glued to Marlene’s bloody corpse on the second floor of the medical center’s parking garage.

Tears filled your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. And then, you remembered.

Dad.

You took off running, brain not even processing that you could be putting yourself in danger by doing so. Whoever had done this to Marlene couldn’t be faraway from the building for all you knew. Hell, they could even be in it. But you didn’t care.

You booked it to the highest floor, where your dad and Mr. Anderson were supposed to be, heart racing, begging and bargaining to the universe, or whatever God there was, or somebody, to ensure that they were okay. That they were just fine.

There are some days where you wish you hadn’t opened that door.

The pair of them, alongside a third medic in the room, were found by you in a shape similar to Marlene. Naturally, you ran to dad first, small, shaky hands reaching out to flip over his face down body.

But you were too late.

Your mind goes blurry whenever it goes back to recall the memory. You don’t remember much: Tears, nausea, shaking, panic. You remember screaming, loudly, at that.

And you remember passing out, before being pulled out of the room.

The second that Jerry Anderson was announced dead, all hell broke loose, and you knew, you knew, it was over. The chance that had been driving you and your family of Fireflies for the last year, was gone, and it wasn’t coming back. Unless a brand new surgeon was going to generously drop from the sky, you were hopeless. 

And it wasn’t even just that.

Because the universe had taken from you the one person you held closest to your heart. To your soul.

Dad.

You had a chance. You all did. 

And, then, it was robbed away from you.

You and your dying group made your way back to Boston knowing just that: That you were collapsing. The days passed by in blurs, each one gloomier than the last. You just weren’t sure what to do anymore. All hope for a cure was gone. All hope for yourself was gone.

In 2036, the Fireflies were disbanded by what little members of it were around to do so, and that was it. It was over. 

Your home was paradise, and paradise was gone.

You didn’t know what to do. Most of the family you had found here in the Fireflies was leaving, searching for a life away from the one you all had known for years. You didn’t know if you wanted to do the same. Part of you wanted to follow suit and leave Boston. Renew who you were. Adapt, and move on. But Boston had always been home, and by leaving it, you were leaving a part of you behind.

But you didn’t have a choice.

It was an early morning in 2036 when you began to pack your bags, readying to go. Where? It didn’t matter. All you knew was that home or not, Boston carried way too many painful memories, way more than you could bear. Marlene was dead. Mr. Anderson was dead. Dad was gone.

You didn’t see what else Boston had to give, that it hadn’t already taken away.

But just, just, when you were about to say your goodbyes, the universe, who had screwed you over in the past, clearly had different plans.

A few members had heard word, from previous members who had left the Fireflies before you, that on the west coast of the country, there was a chance: A chance to find home again, in a place named Catalina Island, a gorgeous land in California.

Risks had failed you before, and so had second chances. But, for once, you wanted to give in. You had to.

So you did.

That’s not to say that the second you got to Catalina Island, finding home once again in your fellow Fireflies, who were just as shattered as you were, that your tale was over. God, it was really, really far from it.

Because there was one more piece to the puzzle.

Abigail Anderson.

Anderson. The last name rang a bell once it escaped her lips. A blonde woman, body bruised, bloodied, and covered from the arms down in oozing gashes. Her hair was short and poorly cut, and from the way her bones were pushing into her skin, you could tell that she was severely malnourished.

Alongside her was a boy, obviously younger than her. Tousled black hair, bruises wherever you looked, and fully unconscious. In your time at Catalina Island, and as a Firefly in Boston, for that matter, you had never seen any pair of people in worse shape.

Not unless they were dead.

You remained head medic once you arrived in Catalina Island, naturally, and you had been managing that way for the last four years. So, when this woman showed up, this young boy by her side, like this, it was you who took control. It was you who nursed them, and it was you who made their scars, in a physical and mental sense, not disappear, but easier to handle. To bear.

By looking at them, by looking at her, it was like a mirror. You saw you.

Which is why you saw her.

Now, if someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, losing your dad, losing Marlene, and losing Mr. Anderson, but falling for his child, you would’ve looked for a bite mark. But now, come the year 2040, where you had made a new life, one that Abigail Anderson was a prevalent part of, happiness no longer seemed impossible.

Because it wasn’t far away anymore, slipping from your fingers, the way it had on numerous occasions. 

It was in your hands.

And you were in Abby’s.

Your eyes were being covered by Abby’s large hands as she led you to a place unknown. You had to assume it was one of the several beaches on the island, sand under your feet, sounds of waves in your ears. A smile had been plastered across your face for what seemed like hours, as Abby dragged you along.

“Come on, Abby. Are you going to tell me what this is about or what?” you asked her for the second time in the last minute. You could hear her low chuckle from behind you, and the way it always happens, comfort surges into your veins.

You had learned from Abby, once you bonded over the mutual loss of your dad and hers at the same man, that once Mr. Anderson had been killed, her and her friends, a few former members of the Fireflies, joined a group named the WLF. You had hence learned that during her time there, she was commonly known as a rugged, scary person, who a lot of people in the WLF didn’t dare insult, nor disobey.

And you couldn’t lie: It was hard to believe that for a second.

You had learned from Abby, also, that her resolve began to slip when she met the young boy who she had made it to Catalina Island alongside, who you had also taken care of: Lev. To put it simply, Lev was a member of a different group, that the WLF was never supposed to come across.

Not unless it was in war.

But he changed her. He did. Some days, you could see how guarded Abby was, how she couldn’t help going back to all she used to know, which was being all but barbaric when she was in Seattle. Closed off, wary. But most days, like today? You knew in your heart, that deep down in hers, Abby Anderson was good. Not innocent, but good.

And that was enough for you.

“Just come on!” Abby chuckled as she walked, not letting up her hold on your eyes for a second as she led you along.

You smiled, shaking your head in mock disapproval. “I have work to do back at the center, and we’re not supposed to be roaming around like this. You know that, right?”

“Babe,” Abby responded in an almost firm tone of voice as her feet quit moving, forcing you to root your body to the spot. It was silent, before she pressed a series of sweet, sloppy kisses to your neck and cheeks, managing to keep her hand over your eyes all the while. She had you crumbling just like that, making you a giggling mess as her lips met your skin.

Her kisses subsided once a million of them seeped into you, and it wasn’t the island heat that had your face warm when Abby was done. “Can you just trust me, please?” she laughed, and you didn’t need your vision to know she was giving you that puppy dog look that had you falling to your knees every time. The one that you couldn’t resist if you gave it your all.

You were too easy. “Yes.”

It wasn’t long before you and Abby reached where she wanted to bring you, and once you did, she paused. She was perched behind you now, large hands over your face, the solacing sound of her sighs coming into your ears. “Okay. Are you ready, my love?”

There wouldn't ever be a day where Abby calling you that wouldn’t make your heart pound in your chest.

“More than,” you easily respond.

As soon as you said it, Abby returned your vision to you, and your eyes can’t help but widen at what you see before you.

Because you never pegged “rugged” Abby Anderson as one for picnics.

“Oh, my God, Abby,” you said more to yourself than the blonde as you slowly approached the scene. Laid out on the sand of the beach was a picnic blanket, a folded blanket, a few pillows, a basket, a few books, and playing cards.

Accompanied by a perfect view of the beach.

“Do you not like it?” Abby asked, and there’s an air of sadness to the way she says it. You turn to look at her on cue, your face one of complete, utter disbelief.

Like it?

“Like it? Baby, I love this. More than know,” you respond, meaning every word. It’s been a long time since someone has wanted to care for you. A long, long time, since you had been the receiver, not the giver.

“Abs, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You can see Abby blushing as you approach her and take her face into your hands, her freckled skin burning in heat. She leans into your touch, pressing her forehead onto yours, and holding your hands in her own.

“I just,” Abby sighed, opening her eyes once more to meet yours, solemn expression across her cheeks. “I just don’t feel like I cherish you enough, babe, show it, that is. Because believe me, I do cherish you. S’just, it’s been hard for me to show you how much. All that you did for me and Lev when we got to the island. Taking care of us. Helping us find a home here. I’ll spend the rest of my life saying thank you for it.”

You can feel your soul healing the more Abby speaks.

“I know this isn’t nearly enough to make up for what you did for us, and I wish it was. But I just figured, maybe. . .it could suffice for now.”

“Abby, baby,” you let a small laugh escape your lips as you say it. “You don’t have to make it up to me. At all. I did what I did, because I saw someone in you. I remember asking for your name, and you responded by asking me where Lev was. You didn’t even care what shape you were in. All you wanted to know was if he was okay. You reminded me of me.”

“You reminded me of dad.”

You couldn’t help but sigh, letting silence seep into the air around you as your brain battled to process what you had just said. You didn’t speak on your dad as much as you likely should: Abby knew that, and so did you. Talking about him made your chest compress, and your throat would fail you, making it feel as if you were choking. As if you were helpless. As if you were there all over again. But Abby knew as well as you did, that when your dad came into discussion, it was for a certain reason. 

And for that reason, Abby didn’t speak: She hung fire. For you. For you.

“We live in a world where people combat their own morals just to survive. There’s no good guys. No principles, no rules, no laws. Anyone you come across is just as bad as you, and if not, they’re worse. But when I saw you? I knew. I knew that wasn’t you. Not anymore.”

You know you’re rambling by now, saying whatever comes to mind as soon as it does, but you can’t find it in you to care as you go on. “You want to believe I don’t know how much you care for me. But you don’t need to show it, Abby. I know you do. Right here.”

You take one of Abby’s large hands into yours, and as cliché as it is, not that you care at all, you place it over your heart.

“You feel that, don’t you? That’s all for you, baby. And it’s there that I feel how much you care about me. It’s there that I know.”

The same silence that was here before comes back. But this time, it’s not sad, or dark, or eerie. It’s solacing. It’s warm. It’s home.

And Abby doesn’t need words in order to respond.

It’s her turn to take your face into her hands as she pulls you in close. Her lips meet yours like they have so many times before, her familiar scent hitting your nose as you settle your hands onto her hips. The kiss is slow, and sweet, but passionate, and a burning desire surges inside you to never let her go, to always hold her close. To always call her yours.

You pull back from the kiss once you tire from it, gasping, Abby’s body mimicking yours as she does the same. You gaze into her eyes, the pretty blue ones that always make your heart swell, smiling up at her as you press one last kiss to her lips for good measure. “I adore you, Abby Anderson. You know that, right?” you grin.

It’s the first time you ever hear her giggle. “Me more than you, gorgeous.”

You spend hours there alongside Abby, and it’s the best time of your life. You spend time indulging in a few snacks the blonde packed for you, playing cards, and running around and playing in the sand, smiling all the way. You even get to hear Abby read to you, one of the most endearing things in the world, accompanied by the calming sound of the ocean before you. And when it came time for sunset, you sat down beside Abby, gazing on as amber, ochre, and rose faded into night.

It was perfect.

When it was nearly time for the evening to come to an end, you used the second blanket Abby had packed for your shared night to cuddle up beside her, heads rested on the pillows she had carried along as well. The side of your face was pressed into her chest as you gazed into the sky above you, Abby’s hand rubbing your back in slow circles to console you. Small suns coat the evening sky like sweet, powdered sugar, accompanied by a full moon that looks incredible over the horizon. All you could hear was the sound of the ocean, alongside Abby sighing gingerly every once in a while, or her pressing kisses to your forehead.

Not that you needed much more than that.

Suddenly, the sound of Abby chuckling in your ears snaps you out of your head, and you turn your face upwards curiously. Abby’s smile makes you smile, and it’s no surprise you began to wonder what the blonde woman found so funny all of a sudden.

“Remember how I told you Lev and I had to cross those bridges that were really high up?” Abby asked, and you had to raise an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. “Mhm,” you mumble, which is when Abby goes on.

“Well, before that, we had to get there by foot once we got out of the aquarium I told you about, the one I used to go to all of the time. That part of Seattle is overrun in rushing rapids, so a lot of the buildings around there were a lot more demolished than they usually would be anywhere else,” she explained.

“And, well. . .”

“We walked into this building, and there was a painting of these dogs playing cards. And I asked Lev if he knew our dogs could really play cards like that. Then he asked me if anyone found me funny,” Abby laughed. “It cracks me up whenever I remember it.”

She wasn’t the only one laughing. “Sounds like Lev. And like you,” you smile, and the tale makes you recall a humorous memory of your own. “Once, I was working late at the medical center back in Boston. I was doing research on this girl who had been feeling sick, but I wasn’t sure by what. Mind you, it’s late, and silent, if you don’t count me flipping the pages in my books.”

You giggle just remembering it. “It’s the weirdest thing ever, but my dad was really good at making Clicker noises. Like, really good. Sounded so real it made your heart drop. I was reading when I heard it, and I remember wondering how the hell infected had gotten inside. ‘Course I grab what was closest to me, a scalpel, and I swivel around.”

“And it’s dad.”

That one got Abby to burst out chuckling. “Oh, my God. Of all the things you could get, gorgeous. A scalpel?”

You rolled your eyes in response, playfully so. “What can I say? I’m just a medic. I didn’t carry a gun.”

Once Abby’s done laughing, which seems to take forever, she smiles down at you, pressing one more kiss to your forehead as if to make up for poking fun at you. You cuddle closer into her, letting your body relax in her embrace as a sigh escapes your lips.

You fall back into silence soon enough, eyes glued to the sky as Abby rubs her hand over your back, holding you like you would fade away if she let you go. You run your fingers through her short hair as you press kisses to her neck, jaw, and face, giving her all the love you know she deserves. Your eyes scan her features like she was molded by some higher power, and you can’t help but want to worship her, endlessly.

Not just for what she looks like. But for who she is.

“My baby. It’s like you were made for me, you know?” you whisper in Abby’s ear as your eyes pierce into her blue ones. But Abby’s head shook quickly.

You can predict what she’s going to say in response. “No, gorgeous.”

“It’s you who was made for me.”

—

reblogs are very much welcomed! <3

—

[naanima]

Let me answer your question in simplest terms; Luke was intended to be Force-sensitive from day one and his character built up around that. Sabine's Force-sensitivity is a big fat retcon that overshadows the infinitely more interesting aspects of her character.

1. Did ANY of you people hear Dave Filoni ever say Sabine WASN'T a Force sensitive? Maybe he always planned for her to be a Jedi? Where is the interview that said he DIDN'T plan it?

2. Intended? Like the way Leia was set up as the sister of Luke AND then set up as a Force user from EP 1? Like Vader was set up as Luke's dad in EP 1 too?

3. I would like SW fans to stop rewriting history, and stop pretending as if George Lucas had a perfect plan for the SW universe that DIDN'T change after the first movie & every few years after that.

4. There is enough plausible/fan wrangling theorising material from "Rebels" to make it work. I love how SW fans can bend backwards to prove some obscure fan/head canon with literally a flash of a pic or some one liner, or a look at a character etc. But don't wanna work with Kanan & Hera talking about Sabine being stubborn and blocked in CANON while training how to use the dark sabre with JEDI fundamentals. But dude, let's theorise ALL the people that are under the mask of whatever character.

5. Personal preference - I like Sabine as a Mandalorian Jedi. I like the fact it took her years to resolve the conflict of her guilt, her heritage, trauma etc. And once again, Mandalorian fucking Jedi - fucking awesome. And it is curious to me you talk about the "interesting aspects" of her character but name none of them. As if being a Force user somehow removes all those "interesting aspects", makes them somehow less.

Here, let me help you list those aspects, and how being a Force user negates nor overshadows NONE of those aspects:

She was a child genius who developed a weapon that killed her own people, she had to live with that guilt & trauma.

She is a Mandalorian who wanted to express herself in a different way - her art.

She ran from her family, her culture, her homeworld, she abandoned them in their time of need. That's a tonne of fucking guilt.

Her Mandalorian upbringing ingrained in her certain ideas about the Jedi, most likely not positively. Something she had to resolve & work through. And DEFINITELY became a block in her training to becoming a Jedi. In other word - CONFLICT that makes her so much more interesting.

Her guilt over not being able to save Kanan, compounded by letting Ezra walk into certain death.

Her guilt and trauma over her family and her people killed on Mandalore, and not being able to save them.

Her SENSE of inadequacy she can't compare to Ezra in the Force, can't compare to the thousands of youngling who became Jedi.

Her sense of being a DISAPPOINTMENT to Ahsoka, to Hera, to the fact she can't find Ezra.

All of these interesting aspects of her character are STILL THERE in her character, it LITERALLY powers the motivations and choices she makes in the show. She is just now also a fucking Jedi Padawan to Ahsoka fucking Tano.

But sure, her Force ability overshadows her "interesting aspects", and not like it make her so much more fucking interesting and awesome.

ETA: Also, thank you anon, I honestly didn't think I loved Sabine as much as I did till I started thinking about your question. She is truly awesome.

A true inspiration. Honestly what ALL Mando Jedi should be moving forward. Also, her immaculate makeup, and the colour decal on her armour is bitchin'. I aim to be like her - enraging people with my awesome.

[neighboringheart]

hi I hope you're having a good day

may I inquire about yours ocs? c:

anon get out here get out here so I can hold your hand and know your face and leave a lil smooch on your cheek (I'm already giving one to @eclipsedmoon87 for replying to my other post asking about them lmao this is for the both of you)

okay so this is gonna get kinda long so just bear with me here

I've got a handful of different OCs but there's only two that I've really fleshed out and I will tell you about them now!

before I start telling you about them tho it's important to establish that they're a part of an AU that's an offshoot of the end of MTMTE/LL in which that the universe they end up in has a cybertron but every Cybertronian is a beastformer

and my OCs are two of these beastformers! they are twin turbofoxes named Turnpike and Trailhead

Trailhead is excitable but just as easily spooked and incredibly fucking smart. He loves experiments of all kinds (even if they're not the safest) and he causes Turn so so much fucking stress all the time from how reckless he can be. He's always carrying some type of blaster, but he's not really that good of a shot. Beware all who may be in the general direction of where he's aiming. He's also religious, but not in a way that was considered palatable back planet-side, as he believes that with the bodies and capabilities Primus gave them, they should use their longevity to find out the full potential of what they can do with their own bodies. Basically, he loves mods and loves his alt-mode dearly, which is frowned upon back home.

Turnpike is the more level headed of the two, they are very stoic, standoffish, and incredible with swords. I'm working on the worldbuilding for this AU still, but I've fully cemented that Turn used to be a fighter in the arena back on Cybertron. They're not religious per se, but like they believe in Primus and similarly to Trail believe that Primus gave them their ability to transform for a reason, and that their robot modes are not their "true form" but that both are equally true and ingrained into them. They have a hard time getting close to people due to how alienated they were before being recruited in the arena. Even after gaining mass popularity there, they still didn't like all that attention and were generally mistrustful of many people.

The two of them are sent out on a mission to gather energon from lifeless or abandoned planets since the naturally occurring energon that was provided by the fruits that grew on Primus' Hand (a giant ass cyber tree that basically spans over the entire planet in one giant system lol it looks like a forest but is actually all one organism) but those trees stopped growing at around the same time that the Blight appeared

The Blight is basically a neurodegenerative disease that causes any who contract it to gradually lose more and more of their memory and have lapses where they will transform into their beast mode for extended periods with little to no responsiveness where they may wander or become aggressive until one day they transform and never return to their robot mode. Their memories and ability to communicate disappear leaving them as seemingly nothing but a standard mechanimal if it weren't for their transformation seams remaining. Despite meticulous research, the cause and cure are still a mystery

luckily the Blight doesn't kill whoever contracts it, but they're not the same after. most who undergo a full regression end up escaping into the wilds never to be seen again beyond occasional glimpses

While on this mission, their ship is critically damaged and despite it being taboo for cybertronians to communicate with outsiders, Trailhead rigs a distress beacon that ends up being answered by the Lost Light

from there the two of them meet the crew and learn things about themselves and I have more plot ideas planned there but I'll leave that a mystery for now because that's more fun

instead I'll keep telling you some little things about my OCs bc that's what you came here for lmao

since they are turbofoxes, the two of them can be very mischievous especially when they team up and the Lost Light crew finds out very quickly just how wild the two of them can get when properly motivated which is quite often since Trailhead is usually the instigator and Turnpike gets bored a lot

other tidbits to note:

Turnpike is a bit of a lurker and loves to sneak around where they can't be seen. They've got some attention deflectors that Trail made specifically for them so they could avoid fans back home and they love to use them to spy on the crew even if Minimus has told them it's against regulation. They'll stop spying once they know they and Trailhead are actually safe aboard their ship. Before long, they learn just how much they love the simple things: music, arts and crafts, and even dancing. That's when they finally start to break out of their shell and really become close with the others

Trailhead has no such hang ups however. Within minutes of meeting and talking to Brainstorm he immediately dove into finding out everything he could from him and Perceptor. By that first night aboard he's already getting drunk at Swerve's with Brainstorm and Nautica and making friends with everyone he can. His biggest vice however is his vanity. With a life of working in a lab day after day and nothing else to do with his spare time, he became incredibly invested in his own appearance, and as such is very protective of it. One scratch in his finish and his mood is dashed for the rest of the day.

and here's some design concepts I've put together for them. The ones in color I originally traced from a panel of dominus bc I was just trying to figure out a direction and I can't draw for shit so like ignore that I'm working on it lol and the second one is a sketch where I'm just trying to figure out some more realism in the way they're put together like in terms of joints (been inspired after assembling a few model kits I guess lol) as well as playing with some shapes.

(the one with the pink is Trailhead as you could likely guess lol he likes his colors bright)

Anyway I'm still figuring that out and I'm way more of a writer than an artist so any work there is especially slow going forgive me but like hopefully you can see what I'm going for there

some other fun notes:

the two of them become obsessed with Minimus. They love to call him big brother to get on his nerves. For them, it was a term of endearment used with the other turbofoxformers in their skulk in the old days, but after everyone else caught the Blight, Minimus is the first other turbofox they've seen in centuries, so in addition to it being entertaining to call him that bc it irritates them, it's also comforting in a way. They also love how small he is since on their Cybertron turbofoxes are quite a bit larger than in the LL Cybertron. they're both a little over a head taller than Minimus when he's irreducible. Once they get comfortable with the crew, they're constantly plotting how they're gonna get Minimus into the nest they share so they can all sleep in a pile in their alts like Primus intended (according to Trailhead anyway Turnpike just likes it bc it's cozy)

but yeah I've got like a million random notes about this AU and these two scattered all over my docs and one day I'll have the motivation to actually write the whole damn thing lmao but for now I hope y'all enjoyed my ramble about them and please tell me what you think of my little guys

oh and I haven't gotten their sexualities set in stone yet since I'm still trying to figure out what kind of endgame would be the best narratively for them both I'm pretty set on Turnpike just not really giving af but being a total romantic who commits to one partner only and that Trailhead is somewhere in the ace and aro spectrums like he doesn't really give af about romance or interface but also isn't opposed to fucking around with his friends if he thinks it might be fun and he enjoys making other people feel good and hasn't figured out what he wants long term just yet

so like I know I wanna pair Turnpike up with someone (and already have someone in mind feel free to guess) and as for Trailhead I'm still not sure what his love life will look like just yet hell I might even leave that one open ended if it would serve the story better I just know that he'd be happy to find the friends he finds on the Lost Light they both are but I feel like he'd find satisfaction in that alone while Turnpike would want more if that makes sense

I also had an idea for him ending up in a sort of queerplatonic polycule situation with some of the other characters that I thought might be fun to explore but it would be a while before I'd get the logistics of that down well enough to be able to implement that so we'll see lol more people = more complexity and I can only handle so much of that before my brain starts to smoke but the image is in my mind and I want to make it real if I can

oh god I accidentally talked about this a lot longer than intended lol I hope anon and anybody else who might be reading this likes these dorks too bc I need the motivation to write this story and also would love people to bump ideas off of for potential side plots and such since I want to write something more long form and there's a lot of blanks still

at last my little guys are unleashed on the world uh T&T be upon ye

[ashmitawrites]

Clarity

If I’m writing about you, I can’t not start with what you always say. What you’ve ingrained in my mind and what I’ve come to believe even stronger than I did before, and that is, GOD DID. God really did. He sent you in my life, as a gift, a ray of light to blind me from all the darkness I’ve had to see. As a gentle apology for the rough times, maybe. When I look into your eyes sometimes, I get lost. I hear a voice that is not yours. 

“My child, I’ve put you in all the wrong places throughout your life not as a test. I knew you’d make it through, I built you that way. The ulterior motive was to prepare you for the happiness I had in store for you. The intention was to allow you to make all possible mistakes you could and learn from them, so that when the time comes, you do it right. The time has come.”

And then I snap back. You take me to places I haven’t been before, places that aren’t necessarily comfortable but always enriching. You make me see things from the beautiful floor to ceiling windows in your home. The home that you’re building for us, which is full of love and respect despite disagreements and differences. You make me see the twinkling lights from far away and the grand scheme of things, but never once do you forget to remind me how high up we are, how much more we’re yet to rise. Sure, I had my own dreams before I met you, I still do. You teach me to dream bigger, because you see me as more than I see myself. You see in me, what I can’t see in myself.

The first night I met you, I honestly had no idea that things would turn out this way. But I recall the moment your fingers entwined around mine, with a certain kind of physical strength I had never felt before. Whether it was just physical, is debatable. But I felt strength in your grip, I felt safe. Not just from the evil things on the planet, but also safe from my own demons. I felt protected in a way I never had, felt that this man wouldn’t just fight the world for me (and win), he would fight me too if it meant I walked on the path I’m meant to. The thing about trust is, most of it goes unspoken. And it truly did. I started trusting you a little from the moment you held my hand.

When your lips touched my forehead next, I felt respect. I felt seen as beyond an attractive young woman. The way you held on to every word I said with utmost sincerity, I felt heard. And not only did you listen, you responded by staying true to yourself and your beliefs, never once offending mine. I felt respect again. You talked about almost everything under the sun from music to marketing and pedophilia and religion and science and God and finance, and boy did I feel respect. I felt awe at your intelligence. I could have one conversation with you and learn more than I would in an hour of studying a textbook. The thing about respect is, it has to be earned. People spend their whole lives working to earn that, you did it in one night.

When you pushed me onto your bed, undressed me and kissed me hard, I felt hunger. Your skin against mine, my whole body was on fire- it had never felt like that with someone I met for the first time. I felt belonging, I felt remembrance. You seemed to be someone I had loved passionately in a past life. When you were inside me, I felt aggression and ownership. For the first time in my life, an independent, sassy boss like me, felt the urge to surrender herself. To you and solely you. The thing about ownership is, it has to be claimed. And you did not shy away from it. Every touch since that first night is the physical manifestation of the word “mine”.

When you warmed up rice and veggies for me and fed me with your own hands, I felt cared for. When you made a stupid joke about forgetting my name and saw the hurt in my eyes, I felt love. I started thinking I was just another random girl to you. I couldn’t get words out of my mouth, so I fell silent. As I laid there naked on your bed without making a single noise, you weren’t distracted. Your one single focus was making sure I’m okay again, and you would stop at nothing till I smiled again. I think that is the moment I fell. I remember you telling me that night itself that you were falling for me, I felt happiness like never before. I wish I could tell you too, but I was scared. When you took the initiative and asked me “What are we?,” knowing the difficult circumstances that we’d have to face in the near future, I felt brave. I felt like if I had you by my side, I could conquer the world.

I can’t possibly list down how fulfilled you make me feel, intensifying every emotion to such heights that it’s hard to distinguish between falling in love and flying. So I tried to describe the initial feelings, the ones that made me realise I was wrong all along about having nothing left to give. I loved, but it was dull and blurry.

I have never loved someone in full brightness and clarity until you.

A (16.1.24)

[caffeineandsociety]

Genuinely I think one of the most annoying things to deal with is stereotypes that are decoupled from the demographic they're about, so they end up flying over a lot of people's heads - and to some people, they still evoke An Image, but to others, they either don't evoke an image of Actual Human People at all, or evoke an image of something completely different.

Namely I find this so annoying because of how we treat "Doing Something Racist/Sexist/Etc." as a Horrible Mark Of Evil Person Shame, Something No Good Person Ever Does, which means if you point out when someone does, say, use a fantasy trope that's based on a racial stereotype, or repeat a joke that's been decoupled from its shitty origins and doesn't outright mention the demographic being mocked, a lot of the time they'll insist you must be wrong because THEY didn't think of that demographic.

For instance, most of us on tumblr at this point know a lot of standard high fantasy goblin tropes are born of antisemitic stereotypes...but while we're over here discoursing about what do DO about that, there are a whole bunch of people who don't have a single fucking clue that those are stereotypes of ANY real human demographic. They're just silly little guys who only exist in a fantasy realm, to them. They're not being indoctrinated into intentional antisemitism by playing a stereotypical goblin in a video game because they're not making any connection between those funny little fantasy guys and real human people - as is one of the two ways propaganda can largely fail -

But by continuing to use those particular tropes, they are unwittingly perpetuating those stereotypes, by potentially passing them on to people who DO make the connection.

The ideal reaction, when someone credibly (...we are acknowledging but not getting into those cases where the complaint is some asshole weaponizing progressive language for less than progressive ideals) points out that you've done something like this, is "oh, shit, well that is NOT what came to my mind at all, I won't do it again/do you know how I can fix it?/[some other relevant statement or question about moving forward]" -

But because so much of this culture is obsessively punitive, because we have culturally decided that the goal of these conversations is not about minimizing harm done but about identifying Who Is An Ontologically, Essentially, Evil Bad Person, instead...people get defensive, which helps NO ONE involved.

Now, I will always say that in the case of an infrequent fuck-up, a brief reminder that a mistake was, in fact, a mistake rather than intentional harm is usually a good thing, because it's reassuring. "Oh shit I honestly had no idea"...is what I expect to be true if it's someone I'm willing to actually bring something up to, but it's nice to hear it confirmed. In fact, while it shouldn't be a default approach, for me personally sometimes I even like to hear the internal logic that led someone to do something assholey and think it was harmless at worst; I like being able to dissect where this shit comes from, what people are and aren't being taught about social issues, and what (if any) connections they're seeing instead, knowledge is power and all that (...as this blog is kind of a testament to).

But...that's only if they're. You know. Open to acknowledging that they fucked up in the first place. Which a lot of people aren't because we treat every single mistake that accidentally hurts someone else as some kind of mark of intentional evil that will, like, bar you from getting into heaven or something. In a lot of cases this ends up affecting even people who know better because one, it's deeply culturally ingrained, and two, it's never just about one person; you have to take into account whether or not anyone ELSE involved is still buying into that crap.

In short, it's a mess.

[doodlboy]

I think my noggin' isn't working pt 2 [now that I'm awake]

I think what my 6AM brain was trying to say was:

[tastytoecheese]

People don't release how much Wills bullying hurt him, truly hurt him. And how deep ingrained the idea he's a mistake is.

Will grew up with Lonnie byers as a dad. Lonnie tried to force Will to like things he never would, like baseball, because all the other-the normal-boys liked it. He called Will things such as 'fag' and 'queer'. While this might have only been something he told to Joyce its clear Will knew his farther thought he was different.

Will has been bullied all through school for his interests to his choice of cloths. We see Troy calling Will a fairy and a bunch of other stuff even when the whole town thought he was dead, that Will, and 11 year old boy, was murdered because people thought he was gay. Bullys build off eachother so the amount of bullying Will must have went through to make the bullys think that was OK is insane. In season 2 Will gets a nickname, one other then fag, fairy or queer, he gets called zombie boy. I personally think this was probably the most hurtful name he was called especially after everything he suffered in the upsidedown. Zombies are only half human, they are disgusting, dangerous and infectious-sound familiar? 1983 was almost ot the hight of the aids epidemic, gay men were labelled these things to further dehumanise and vilinise them just like what the kids (and probably some adults too) treated Will like.

Coming to the realisation you're gay is scary but in the 80s is was downright terrifing, knowing that if anyone evan had the idea you're queer could get you killed. But Will basically lived that. He came back into the world after everyone thought he was murdered via hatecrime and hardly anyone cared. Will got a taste of what could happen if he was hatecrimed, the fact that rumours and bullys were enough to make a town disregard him. And the worst part is (for Will) they're right. The bullys were right. Because he is gay and there's nothing he can do to change that, all the bullying and name calling, all the side eyed stares in the locker rooms and parents whispering to eachother about "the byers queer kid" , all the times he was thought of as a mistake was right.

That's why it hurt so much when Mike said 'it's not my fault you don't like girls!' Because Mike never treated Will like he every one else despite if it was true or not. He was Wills safe space where Will could be his funny, nerdy, happy self free of judgment-until that day. With that one sentence Mike confirmed all of Wills fears , he knew Will was different, he knew it had something to do with him and he did judge Will for it. Of course as the audience we know this isn't really what Mike thinks but Will doesn't know that.

The destroying of castle byers represents Will tearing down his comfort in himself with hatered. Even the name castle byers puts Will in a position of power, it's not hard to imagine young Will pretending to be king of the castle: there's no king anymore. All his memories from there, Jon helping him build it, his mum messing with him, the sword leaning against its entrance almost definitely left by a certain paladin, flattened on the wet ground as he physically tore his happiness and comfort in himself and feelings for Mike down. Because its stupid, it's 'so stupid' because his feelings are wrong. Because stupid things are mistakes.

Will has always felt like a mistake.

[sevikas-whistle]

Ours

A Sevika x Reader x Silco fic that absolutely NOBODY asked for (but me). I wrote this in my notes and uploaded it onto the mobile app. So yeah. Sorry for any mistakes.

Shout out to Sevikasslut for the inspiration to actually write my ideas. Thanks doll ☺️

This series was entirely brought on by this single screen grab and my filthy imagination.

This is part 1/?? Of I don’t know how many parts to be totally honest. I’ll be sure to tag any N!SFW content that come up but this does have minor drug use and drinking.

You’ve known of your…soulmates existence since their names burned onto your wrist on your 18th birthday. A soul marking day was always something to celebrate and a double marking was a true rarity. Yet when you shared their names with your parents, their collective looks of terror remained ingrained into your memory for years to come. Their rejection of this bond burned almost as much as the marks themselves.

The evening of your marking day, they sent you to the inner city of piltover, to stay with a distant relative. And when you asked why, the only answer you received was a grim:

“We’re doing this for you. To give you a chance.”

The week following they sold what they could to grant you entrance into the academy. Something they hadn’t even considered doing until these two names were painfully etched into your skin.

Silco & Sevika

Before you left, they made you promise to keep your soulmates identities hidden. The urgency in their request made it seem like your life depended on it.

Little did you know, it did.

That was eight years ago. Since then you had felt your marks burn only a handful of times. A tell sign that one of your soulmates was nearby.

But it was nice, being able to focus on your studies, uninterrupted. No pressures to slow down in your passions for the sake of your partners. And passions you had. Specifically on the glaringly obvious social issues between Topside and the undercity. The serious rift between the two was truly heartbreaking to anyone who actually took the time to see what was happening. You hadn’t spent much time back home since your marking day, at your own parents insistence. Yet every visit revealed that the under-city was slowly deteriorating.

The eight years spent in the sparkling city of piltover was bitter sweet. Having opportunities your parents only dreamed of, created this imposter syndrome that weighed heavy on you if you stopped to think about it too often. So you threw yourself into your studies. Finding ways to help both peoples by learning how to maneuver the intricate systems of operation oppression that most piltover citizens couldn’t be bothered to deal with, much less look at.

You made friends here, or rather two. Chani and Marina. Their circle accepting you reluctantly enough. Their micro aggressions on where you came from slowed down significantly after your vast achievements in your area of studies. Which brought you to this moment now.

You stood in front of the mirror, glancing over the finishing touches on your makeup for the night. Looking over your outfit for any imperfections became a habit, living on this side. With nothing out of place you left the powder room of Chani’s house. A low whistle was heard, coming from them.

“Damnnnn you clean up nice. Who would’ve thought?” Chani giggled

You rolled your eyes and flipped them off. Your running joke falling def on the rest of the group.

“Alright whores! Time for some shots! It’s not every day we graduate as Doctorate’s from piltovers FINEST.” The cheers of 30 valedictorians filled the room, including yours. Blaring whistles and high fives following after.

“Now listen up!” Chani continued, ever the type A personality.

“I have our entire itinerary for the evening. So keep up! We’re starting with dinner at Voxx. Delanys father graciously lent us his private box for us to get to our main attraction for the evening. So make sure to thank him. Following dinner, we have an entire section at-“ stopping for suspense, she continued when she knew she held everyone’s captivation “-The Last Drop.” She finished with a smile.

Despite the pantyhose, your felt entirely too exposed walking the small distance to The Last Drop. Your rowdy group of polished topside citizens sticking out like a sore thumb in the lanes. Pulling the leather mini skirt down as you took another step towards the club gave little reassurance. Thankfully the thigh high boots provided another barrier of unconscious protection. No matter how much you were able to cover, which wasn’t a lot considering the top you wore barely counted as a covering, you felt as if the people around you were seeing through you, in a way. However, the thick heels of the boots you wore did create a semblance of safety in case you needed to run. An outfit choice you thanked your past self for multiple times since leaving the safety of piltover.

As Marina gave the party name to a rather dapper bouncer, your head filled with the irony of this entire situation. Some of piltovers finely educated citizens coming to the lanes to celebrate their success while totally blocking out the horrors of the lanes. The people we’re supposed to be helping…

“You’re in your head again! Which obviously means you need at least two shots, and a drink!” Marina yelled knowingly into your ear over the blasting music of the club.

You laughed as she pulled you along towards the two beautiful bottle girls who were working your group. Her short silky pearl dress moved with her graceful movements. Looking almost angelic in this club against the colorful lights. She yelled your drink order to one of the girls who smiled and nodded, getting to work. Marina impatiently, yet ever politely poured the both of you a colorful shot each while your cocktails were being made.

“To us!!” She cheered

“To us!” You yelled back, downing the drink

You hadn’t felt this free in years. The kind of high that only comes from looking good and having a night on the town with your best friends. Blowing steam in the best way felt incredible. Indestructible even. Chani and Marina approached you with another drink, you blew them kisses as it was handed to you. Your world flowing and moving as your body swayed in time with the music. A blunt being passed your way soon after. Taking a greedy hit only to realize too late that it was laced after it burned too heavily. Coughing in a panic, you realized the smoke coming out had a light purple tint

Fucking Shimmer?!

You glared at your classmate who took the tainted blunt.

“Don’t worry angel, you’re safe. We got you.” Marina yelled over the blasting music.

Putting your drink down you nodded and stepped away from the circle.

“I’ve gotta pee! Come with me?!”

Your duo nodded in agreement and stumbled your way to the filthy restroom.

Once you were in front of the mirror, it hit you. You were fucked up. The room tilted despite your death-grip on the counter. Making eye contact with yourself you admired the beautiful artwork on your face.

“At least I look good” you thought as you tried to stay upright as you waited for the next available toilet.

As soon as it became available you quite literally stumbled in, clumsily locking the door behind you. Barely having control of your facility’s made it more challenging to pee, but you managed with a sigh of relief. The relief was short lived due a growing pain on your wrist, it was starting to burn under your smartly placed metal cuff. An involuntary whine left your lips as it increased in intensity. In your hazy mind it slowly clicked:

They’re here. You’re soulmates.

Oh, shit.

If you were feeling it, then surely they were too.

Which meant you had to leave. Like, now.

But what if they’re nice??? A part of you wondered.

Immediately your parents faces flashed through your minds eye. Their urgency and sacrifice to keep you away from them. To give you a chance, they said.

Quickly finishing up, you rushed out of the stall to wash your hands.

“Marina, Chani! I’m ready to go home!” You shouted, slurring slighty.

A flush sounded and quickly after Chani came out, long locs moving with her as she made her way out of the stall, washing her own hands.

“What’s the rush? We’re just getting into the thick of it babe! Nights still young!“ she giggled , wrapping her arms around you.

“What is this I hear about leaving? Girl it is too early for that! It’s barely 1:30 AM!” Marina raised a perfectly shaped brow at you as she waltzed out of her stall, washing her own hands.

“I’m just not feeling very good. I’m- a little too fucked up to be dealing with this.” You admitted your half truth.

Your friends eyed you, seeing the strain in your eyes even with liquor, weed and shimmer coursing through your system. After a moment Marina spoke first. “We’re a little too buzzed to leave right now love. Let’s wait until we sober up a bit. It’s probably not the best idea for us to leave in this state. We can grab a bite to eat before we catch a ride back to Topside. Sound good?” She finished, playing with a piece of your hair.

Three women, under the influence, walking alone in the lanes at this hour? Good point.

Nodding, you agreed.

“You’re not hiding out in this bathroom though, let’s go.” Chani linked arms with you and Marina then led you back to your section.

You’ll stay in your designated section, sober up, and leave. Maybe grab a late night bite (preferably something greasy) and be home, safe in your own bed in no time.

Suddenly thankful for the exclusivity of Piltovers socialites, you relaxed a bit. Even with your soul mates being in the area. It’s not like they could just waltz in and snatch you up. This area was heavily guarded for that very reason. Exclusivity.

Saved by classism. How ironic.

Swaying back into your section, you decided to make the most of your safety. Grabbing your best friends hands and dancing to the pulsing music.

Little did you know, of the cold silver eyes sweeping the crowd.

Sevika’s POV

It took too long to recognize that the burn on her wrist was from the soul mark and not from all the.. action, that played out earlier in the evening. It wasn’t until Silco hissed and discreetly rubbed out his own wrist. The wrist that carried the names of his soulmates; Sevika and y/n. Then it dawned on her.

Silco eyed Sevika, an entire agreement being communicated without a word being uttered:

Find her

With a subtle nod of his head, he dismissed Sevika from the meeting to find their missing piece. They had never been this close to her before. Already feeling the effects of having her so close yet not close enough, fueled the woman with a hungry passion. Their beautiful girl was somehow always out of reach. Deducting that she must reside in Topside, since Sevika had felt the burn of the soul mark only while overseeing deals there. A serious shock to both the revolutionists.

Maneuvering with purpose, Sevika made her way down the stairs leading from Silcos office. Eyes vigilantly scanning the crowd of swaying bodies for the new face. The face that’s been painfully out of reach for the last eight years. A carnal motivation fueled the woman. She would find their partner or die trying.

Y/n POV

Your Dancing to the euphoric music came to a swift halt when your wrist burned, painfully. Your arms that had once been in the air came back down fast. Quickly removing the metal cuff, you noticed. Sevika’s name on your skin was glowing red. She must be really close. Carefully replacing the metal cuff, you wormed your way through your party to find Marina and Chani.

“

The look on your face left no room for argument. They nodded, saying quick goodbyes to the surrounding graduating classmates before linking arms with you and heading towards the exit. A wave of sobriety hit you as You realized the danger you were in while you worked through the crowd of people. Not only were The looks you and your friends receiving make you want to take your skin off and never put it back on; but the realization that your soulmates truly might be dangerous people made your stomach drop. Leading your girls towards the exit, you held your breath as the pain in your wrist moved from a burn to literally scalding. You were almost out. Literally steps away from the exit when the soul mark became almost debilitating. This was the downside to having two soulmates. The initial contact was so overwhelming, sometimes enough to make one black out from pain.

Silco and Sevika must be right on your tail.

A new urgency fueled you as you pushed your friends out of the club. Accidentally bumping into the bouncer as you did. Giggling yet Mortified, your friends apologized and the three of you made your way out of The Last Drop.

“Y/n!!!”

You stupidly turned at the call of your name. Meeting the eyes of a beautiful yet terrifyingly determined woman. She narrowed her eyes and made her way towards you.

Sevika sent you a warning look before you side stepped your friends, mumbling clear instructions to them.

“You two head STRAIGHT to the box trolly and meet me at my place. Don’t stop for anything.”

With that you made a break for it in the opposite direction. Hoping like hell they listened. It’s been years since you’ve been this deep in the lanes, and you prayed to any gods who were listening that this short cut to piltover was even still standing.

Running through the lanes, The air was thick, as if it carried some of the burden of what happened in these streets. It would be almost comforting if it weren’t so suffocating as you fled the woman destiny had fated you to. And her cronies. She must be someone important to command such individuals in the lanes. Despite her hard beauty, you couldn’t stop the longing for what if. Briefly making you question why you were even running from them in the first place.

“If she gets away Boss will have both of our heads!” you heard one of the men yell.

“She’s close! If she gets away you won’t have to worry about Silco taking your heads. I’ll kill you right here.” Sevika grunted, her heavy footfalls getting closer and closer.

Whelp.

Leaping over a suspiciously viscus puddle in the middle of the ally way, you found what you were looking for. An abandoned material shoot that’s glory days had long passed. You had used this very shoot when you first came to visit your family and didn’t have enough coin to pay for a public trolly ticket. Too embarrassed to ask your aunt for ticket money. After learning of its existence, and it’s purpose (heaven forbid piltover citizens had to sit in the same transport as the material being sent to their city.) Despite it being retired and kept up for historical purposes, it became your preferred means of transport into the lanes. That was eight years and about 30 pounds ago. With a comicly skeptical prayer you opened the gate and pulled the lever. Hoping the metal death trap was still functional. A terrifying yet familiar metallic groan sounded all around you before you shut the gate, locking yourself in. Backing into the far wall you braced for departure. Panting as you closed your eyes to steady your breathing.

The sound of shrieking metal made your eyes flash wide open. Only to see Sevika, or rather her prosthetic arm, breaking through the ancient metal gate. A look of sheer determination on her face. It made your knees buckle and for the first time since the chase started, you felt the pure fire from your wrist. A whimper escaped you. Being this close to her without the needed physical contact to complete the bond, was truly torturous. That same fire seemed to fuel her in a different way. She made eye contact with you and a gasp escaped your lips. Different emotions seemed to move through her at a rapid fire pace. Smugness, want, annoyance, desire, and settling somewhere between frustration and confusion.

“Why are you running from us?!” She demanded. Passionate silver eyes searching you, as if you had the answer embedded into your skin.

An almost electrical tension filled the space between you two. As if the universe itself was tired of your shit and was pulling you towards her.

Before you could answer the shoot groaned as it tried to take off.

With Sevika’s arm still inside.

A pained noise escaped the brute of a woman. Without thinking you rushed towards her to untangle her arm from the gate, before it took her arm with you to topside. But as soon as you were within reach, her organic arm shot out to pull you towards her through the small opening; Hitting the top of your head in the process. Without a moments hesitation her warm lips were on yours. Your own falling open in a surprised gasp. A hum left her lips as the burn in your wrist immediately subsided. Feeling her smirk into the kiss as the soulbond was solidified, You launched yourself away from her as the lift attempted to take off again, and this time, she let it.

‘See you around sweetheart.’ A smug voice promised in your mind.

A voice that didn’t belong to you.

[demonicheadcanons]

Obey Me Brothers + Little Affections

AN: Keep thinking about the little things each brother would do to express affection. Some warm fluffy stuff because we all need it. Enjoy!!

The hair drying one on Lucifer’s sparked this entire thing thanks

Lucifer

- Washing and drying your hair. You know if you get your hair washed at a hairdressers and they just. Go to town with a towel drying your hair? He finds it hilarious and loves doing that. You’ll hear him chuckle, unable to see him because your face is covered by the towel. He’s softer towards the end but initially when trying to get most of the excess water his only concern is not actually hurting you. He’s also genuinely trying to help, just having a little fun with it at the same time.

- Continuing on from this, Lucifer will ruffle your hair. If it doesn’t really upset you, he loves to make a mess of it, and he grins at you, your hair sticking out every which way.

- The second his brothers aren’t around, he seems to canonically love holding your hand under the guise of keeping track of you or comforting you. Its partially true - the MC gets into trouble easily, so its good to keep a hand on them. However, the comforting affect goes both ways.

- Sharing information with you implies a close bond (or at the very least, a strong curiosity, like when he hints at where Mammon’s card is / when he talks about the album) and it means Luci cares about you a lot. He likes to talk about his interests and introduce you to things he cares a lot about. A lot of the time this comes in the form of music, because it’s something he’s able to enjoy whilst still doing his work.

- Doing origami or other paper crafts together? Really relaxes him. It’s so peacefully intimate and cosy. You sit together at his desk, work documents hidden out of sight for now, and make whatever you can out of colourful little bits of paper. He likes making flowers, although he’d never say it out loud, but he makes you countless crowns with paper flowers of all different kinds. You walk in one day when he’s taking a break from work and he’s got paper cranes lining the entire length of his desk. He calls you over and puts one on your head for absolutely no reason before acting like it never happened.

- If no one else is around and he’s feeling a bit daft, he’ll sweep you up into his arms with no warning and just hold you like that, staring directly into your eyes with a daring and loving smile on his face. This happens most when it’s late at night and all the coffee he’s had is starting to wear off and he feels a little more relaxed and open. He’ll carry you to his room to cuddle, too, if you don’t have anywhere else you need to be. Just pray none of his brothers encounter you two because he’ll set you down on your feet immediately and he won’t help you up if you fall.

[[Other Brothers under the read more]]

Mammon

- Fist bumps!!! He passes you and holds his fist out, and pouts if you don’t immediately bump your hand into his. Do the snail or turkey thing once and he falls in love with it. Lucifer, tired and stressed after a lot of work, decides for once to go along with giving him a fist bump because he’s too tired and no one else is around, and Mammon does the snail thing. The look on Luci’s face is worth everything that happened after. But when its you, Mammon just smiles and beams at you. He’s really happy.

- Sitting so close together that you can’t possibly move without disturbing the other. Sides fully pressed together even if he doesn’t have an arm around you or your hand in his. He likes the constant contact, it’s healing. So heavily invested in whatever you’re watching that the two of you simply don’t realise how close you are until the episode ends and you realise you’re leaning your full weight against him and his face is red but he’s smiling so softly you can’t bring yourself to move.

- You’ll have to start the habit, but, tackle hugs. You see him in the distance somewhere and sprint over and tackle him full force. He’ll act mad at first, especially if he trips and falls over or he’d been talking with someone else, but he holds onto you tightly and his face is beautifully flushed. After a while he’ll do it too, although he’s a lot gentler, but if you hear him call your name you need to turn around quickly and hold your arms out. He’ll lift you up into the air and twirl you around once or twice before just, going on with his day as normal. You hear his laughter as he walks away, bright and bubbly and confident, exactly as he should be.

- The absence of insults is important for Mammon. He’ll tolerate it if it’s every now and then but he’ll really notice if you’re always kind to him, he pays attention and holds tightly on to every compliment you give him. When he feels low he finds you and holds you in his arms, fingers playing with the loops in your jeans, as he recites off every nice thing you’ve said to him, hoping you’ll reaffirm them. Did you mean it when you said he was one of the most caring people you’d ever met? When you said his eyes made you feel at home?

- He likes feeding the crows with you. It’s something he does without telling anyone, but one day he takes you out along with him and the crows take a liking to you instantly. He likes how you look with his crows standing proud and confident on your arm, your hair a mess from their flapping wings as you laugh and try to get the last bits of food out from the bag.

- If you style his hair and put random accessories in it - anything from silly plastic hair clips to flowers to feathers - he’ll keep them in all day. He doesn’t care who sees because his MC spent their time doing this for him, and he’s happy to tell anyone who dares criticise him.

Leviathan

- He’s awkward with any affection at first, but he actually builds up to quick tight hugs when he’s really happy. If he’s incredibly excited - just won tickets for something, or some idol liked his comments - expect to be tackled in a hug. He gets flustered after, but if you hold tightly onto him he won’t let go immediately.

- If they even vaguely relate to his own interests, Levi will try hard to be invested in anything you really enjoy. For example, he’ll watch your favourite shows with you or try and read things you enjoy, etc.

- At the same time, Levi will share his interests with you. It’s not something he can really avoid doing as it’s ingrained in him to ramble about his special interests, but it will come in seemingly smaller forms - for example, he’ll hand you his headphones one day, blushing, and ask what you think of this song, or he’ll show you a paragraph in a TSL book that has particularly good rhythm or evokes a lot of emotion. If he lends you his books or DVDs it’s practically a proposal.

- You two have full conversations with Henry as he swims about in his tank. About silly and pointless things or very serious topics, from jokingly scolding him to venting about the future and about school and such. It warms Levi’s heart.

- Horn pats. When he’s in his demon form, pull him down to your level and pat his horns. He’s so flustered he can’t move the first few times, but one day he’ll start coming up to you and asking you if you want to do it. He likes being able to be in his demon form, and likes that you’re comfortable with him even when he doesn’t look as human.

- When he’s very comfortable with you, he likes to wrap you up in surprise hugs and laughs if you try to squirm your way out of his grip, a brilliant mischievous glow in his eyes, any self-consciousness long forgotten.

Satan

- I’ve said this before on another post but Satan likes to pet your hair and run his thumbs over your palms, pressing into them gently like he’s touching the pads on the paws of a cat. He traces circles and presses kisses into your palm and over each finger tip and knuckle, like it’s his own form of worship.

- It takes a long time to build up the confidence to do so but I can see him like. Playfully nipping at your skin if he presses light kisses against your shoulders or neck. If it makes you laugh or blush he smiles against your skin.

- If you fall asleep somewhere he’s the first person to go get a blanket to throw over you - he’d rather just let you sleep if you’re somewhere safe instead of disturbing you to lift you elsewhere, and risking waking you up. Occasionally he’ll kneel down beside you and stay there with a book until you wake up, and he’s fallen asleep like that once or twice.

- Just. Talking. Laying down together and going from topic to topic, saying whatever crosses your minds with no filters and no judgement. Letting time pass by with the comfort of the other, laying on your back in the planetarium or library or in his room, wherever there aren’t books piled up. No responsibilities except to listen to the other, and every now and then you laugh and he feels like maybe this could be home.

Asmodeus

- Sharing things, whatever it is. Food, clothes, jewellery. Taking a necklace off and putting it on him because “this would go so well with your outfit,” or holding out your fork and telling him to try some of your food, it tastes heavenly. Perfume, as well, is a must - he wants the two of you to smell the same.

- Like Mammon, he likes to have some kind of contact with you at all time - holding hands, an arm across your shoulders, anything. But the main point of contact he truly adores is if he has his hands on the skin of your stomach or back, even in the most innocent way possible. If his arms are around you and you’re comfortable with it, he’ll tuck his hands under your shirt and trace shapes against your hips, stomach, back, lower ribcage. Wherever he can. It’s something he’ll do absentmindedly without everything thinking about it, and it recharges him when he’s low on energy.

- He actually really likes working alongside you, whether it’s school work or something related to a part time job, or a potential business idea. He’s smarter than anyone would give him credit for and he loves how you look when you’re deep in thought, trying to solve something, and how your eyes light up as you figure it all out. He’s not one to just give you the answer to things, so if he knows something and you don’t he likes to hint at it like it’s a game. When you guess the answer right he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose and beams at you.

- Late night phone calls where you talk about whatever’s keeping you awake. He doesn’t mind who’s calling who, he wants to ramble or listen to you at any given moment and he’ll give up his sleep if it means you can get something that’s bothering you off your chest. Similarly, there is no greater comfort for him than getting to complain to you about something or other, something that’s genuinely bothering him and that’s stuck in his head. He feels like it only disappears when you take a hold of it for him for a little bit.

Beelzebub

- Sharing food, obviously, means a lot to him. Feed him bites of your food, give him anything you don’t want, and he’ll love it. He especially loves if you share food that’s important to you in some way, and you’ll find him giving you little bites of his food too the closer you two get. It means a lot to him when people embrace the fact that he eats so much, instead of scolding him for it or making jokes about it.

- He really likes holding hands. Your hands are so small in his and yet you trust him not to injure them as you pull him along. He feels possessive sometimes but isn’t outwardly affectionate enough to do anything about it, and the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. It’s the perfect thing for him.

- Stacking random things on the other. Sitting cross-legged in a park, pulling daisies out of the lawn that’s about to be mowed anyway and gently placing them into each other’s hair, on the other’s shoulders and laps. If you’re laying in his bed he’ll take random light objects off his night stand and place them on top of you. There’s no purpose and no intention, and yet it makes him smile and gives him butterflies, and he laughs if you glare jokingly up at him but let him continue.

- Run your hands through his hair, down the sides of his face, under his jaw. Anywhere. He melts in an instant, mouth slightly open as you poke his cheeks or tickle his neck and shoulders with feather light touches.

Belphegor

- Nap. On. Him. Any time, any where. Snuggle up to him, lean your head against his shoulder or bury your face into his neck or lay down on his lap and just rest. He blushes every time and it takes him a second to recover. Sometimes he’ll angle himself so he can lean against you two and he’ll fall asleep as well.

- He likes those kind of monkey hugs where you wrap your entire body around him and he can bury his face in your neck and hold on as tight as he wants. He’ll walk around like that until you get to the attic and he can throw you into his pile of pillows and blankets, and he flops down on top of you and clings onto you again, trying to hide his face because he’s smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

- He loves playful, back and forth banter. He’ll tease you constantly, loves if you pout at him, loves it more if you retort with something and keep it running for a while before the two of you start laughing.

- Being childish. He’ll stick out his tongue at you or pull a sudden face and he expects you to do it back immediately. If you don’t he’ll poke and tickle you, telling you how disappointed and hurt he is.

- Headbumps! But not too hard. Gently bump your head against his shoulder to get his attention and he’ll pat it. Bonus points if you nuzzle into his hands then - he’s hard to fluster but you can hear him swallow as he starts to go red. You’ll immediately have all of his attention to yourself.

- Belphie is the king of silent conversations. The tiniest gestures, nods, tilts of the head. He can pick up on all of them, knows exactly what you’re trying to say without you saying it, to the point where sometimes you won’t even realise you’re not talking aloud.

[thismaydestroyme]

Denver: Love on Tour

i didn’t have any idea what i wanted to name this blurb. this shit wiped me out, and i don’t know if this is any good. i can’t bring myself to reread this over. it’s currently 2 in the morning, and i’m about to hit the hay. i hope you find this somewhat tolerable.

warning: that’s a loaded question 

word count: 3084

That fucking little teasing dance Harry did while he was performing ‘Woman” will forever be ingrained in your head. 

That fucking cheeky bastard.

Harry is so loved on stage and he was feeling himself the entire night, that’s why he did that cheeky dance because he knew his beautiful girlfriend, Y/N would go in a frenzy and that’s what he wanted. Of course he had to throw something in for Y/N, what kind of boyfriend would he be?

When Harry was finished with his show, he ran backstage to find Y/N, but he had to stop and appreciate everyone’s remark when they were throwing gratitude and compliments his way by his performance tonight. We could all say Denver won this round compared to the Las Vegas show. 

“Harry, you ate that!”

“You whore!”

“That was amazing”

“You deserve to have your ass eaten out.”

Harry immediately turned around to find who said that last part, because deep down he knew. Y/N pushed some people out of her way while she was trudging her way to Harry. Y/N is wearing her infamous white booties so when she walks you can hear her coming from all directions. When Y/N enters the room, all eyes are all on you because you own every room you’re graced in. When you finally get to Harry he’s already giving you a smirk which you gave right back. 

“Oh no…. Not this again.” Couple of people behind you said that while they start packing up their gears so you guys can leave and head to your next location and that’s San Antonio. 

“Hello puppet. I see that you’re in your dom headspace. I can see it in your eyes.” Harry said while he brought his hand to rub your cheeks. You give him a glare and push his hand away and you start walking back to the table which is covered by random shit- which you have to pack and clean. You hate the idea of leaving things a mess, so when you guys leave, people here won’t have to clean up all the mess you guys left behind. 

You can be a bitch, but you’re not disrespectful.

After a couple of minutes has passed where you put things back in the duffle bags that you brought and wipe down the vanities and tables with Lysol. Making sure things are squeaky clean.

You feel a presence behind you, but you don’t have to wonder who because you can spot that Tobacco Vanille fragrance anywhere. You turn around and you see Harry looking down at you, his eyes burning onto yours. 

“Why are you being like this?” Harry asked.

“I’m not being like anything, you’re…”

“I’m what?” 

“I just didn’t like you doing that ‘little’ dance. Flaunting your hips around and toying with your nipples while you were performing, Women.” You said annoyingly. You try to turn around, but Harry grabs your hand to make you stand right in front of him. 

“Are you jealous?” Harry said all knowling with that fucking grin on his damn face. You try to look over him because you don’t want to have this conversion, but he grabs your jaw so you’re forced to look at him. His green eyes are so blown out, you can hardly see any green. 

“I’m not-”

“Pet. Stop it right now. Answer my question.”

“Yes. I was jealous” You mumbled hoping he’ll drop it. 

“Awe, baby. That’s adorable.” He giggled.

“It’s not funny nor adorable.” You push his hands away to storm off but he still is holding onto you. 

Harry looks around and you’re not sure what he wanted because this room is already packed up and no one else is here beside you too. Then you realize there's a couch in this room and before you know it Harry is trudging you along to the couch. He plops down and you’re still standing between his legs that he purposely did on purpose because he loves it when you’re between his legs. His arms are stretched out, hanging loosely on the back of the couch. He’s staring right at you. Fuck, this man right here with his red pants on, with his blue and white strip button up shirt with his red spenders on. Like you said… this outfit beats the Las Vegas show.

“What you want, baby, you want to punish me?” He said while wiggling his eyebrows, which you taught him to do. It took him a year to master it.

You cross your arms which have your boobs stand out more. 

“Puppet, stop it, m’okay? Come to daddy.” 

You turn your head around because you’re just annoyed with the fact he turns himself on so easily and the fans witnessed it. You’re happy and glad Harry is finally at this point in his life where he’s able to live his authentic life and he’s able to express himself in the most beautiful way, but when it comes to his horny meter, you want to be the only one to see it. 

“C’mon darling, I will be a good boy for mommy. I want to be a good boy to mommy.” He said in the wine. 

Fuck.

You try to ignore his neediness, but it’s so hard to because he knows how much hearing him whine will send you into an overdrive. You try to ignore your needs, but you feel his hand on your waist, trancing his name on your waist. Due to the low rise jean you’re currently wearing, his name is on display. His hands started to work his way up to your stomach which he stopped at your belly button so he could play with your belly ring. 

His hands are so gentle and soft. It feels like Harry is doing figure skating motion on your stomach. It flows in the wind. You start to completely forget why you’re even mad at him. Your eyes flutter close. Everything just feels heightened.

You jolt because you feel Harry’s lips on your stomach and his hands are roaming your back and inching it way to your ass, but before he could even reach it he brings his hands back up. Harry is pampering you in kisses. It’s like his way of apologizing. Your hand finds its way to the back of his hair to tossle it up a bit. You feel so good and it feels so right. 

“Mommy?” Harry whispered which broke you out of your trance. You open your eyes and you see Harry looking at you with admiration. 

“Yes, baby?” You said in a gentle tone still twirling his hair in your hands. 

“I’m so sorry. I went overboard on stage. I just want you to know that.” He slowly gave you a kiss on your blushy stomach which resulted in you moaning.

“It’s okay baby. I’m not mad, I’m just sad I wasn’t the one to get you turned on.” You lean down to kiss the top of his head, so he knows that you’re not angry with him. 

“NO! The reason I did that was because I was thinking about you when I was singing Woman.” He rushed out his words. 

You bring your hand to his chin so he could look at you, “is that true, my pretty boy?”

“Yes! I want to be a good boy. That’s all I want. Please.” He rambled and immediately started kissing your stomach over and over again. Not missing any skin. 

“Fuck… you’re such a good boy to mommy. Mmmhh.” Harry starts sucking your skin. You toss your head back letting this feeling consume you. 

“H. I think we need to stop. We have to leave.” Your words were so broken up.

There was a plop sound due to Harry letting go of your extra skin that was in his mouth just a second ago. 

“Don’t worry about that. I told them to leave. We’ll just order an uber when they’re at their resting stop.” Harry went back to your stomach and his hands are roaming freely. You don’t want to argue with him how that’s unprofessional, but at this moment… fuck it.

“Okay baby.” You said to him. People wouldn’t think having someone making out with your stomach wouldn’t be considered sexy or whatnot but this moment is so intimate and so perfect for the both of you. 

While you have Harry praising you, you couldn’t help but think what he did on stage toying with his nipples. Just that sight almost had you cuming, but you had to control yourself, but now you don’t have to. 

You pushed Harry’s face away from your stomach and you could tell there was a hint of defiance in his eyes, so you had to stop it before he actually got in trouble. 

“That’s not a good boy behavior. Sit back.” Harry let out an annoyance huff, but you stopped it by glaring at him. He obeyed and he moved himself back on the couch. 

“Happy now?” Harry lifts his arms up so he can let it land on his thighs. He’s being a brat now. 

“Bad boys don’t get treats. So if I was you, I would stop this shenanigan right now.” You glared at him. He softened his eyes. 

“Good boy.” 

You walked little more up to him so it would be easier for you sit on his lap facing him. You lower yourself onto him. His hands found it’s way to your waist. When you're completely on his lap you feel a nice bulge forming, you couldn’t help but to smile. You raise your eyebrows which he responded by pulling you closer to him. 

“I didn’t realize how needy my superstar is.” You taunted him. You start moving your hips into a small circle which results in a moan getting stuck at the back of his throat.

“Awe, my baby is all choked up. Do you need mommy to help you?” You whispered to him leaning over to toy with his earlobe with your tongue. Slowly flicking it. Harry goes into a frenzy when you play around with his earlobes. 

“I- I’m- MOMMY!”

You bite on his earlobe the way he likes it. You suck on his earlobe to bring him back and help with the sharp bite. 

“Don’t worry, I got you darling.” You whispered. You change position and start licking his neck to collect the remnant of his sweat. It’s so salty, but so tasty. You start sucking him kissing and leaving wet kisses to soothe the pain. The way Harry is holding onto your waist you know when you wake up there will be bruises which you don’t mind because you love seeing the marks he left you to remember him by. You’re still swaying your hips, but it’s getting hard to do due to how Harry cemented his hands onto your waist. 

You’re suctioning your mouth on his neck but you can feel his veins in your mouth due how turned on he is. You couldn't tell he’s holding himself back, which you don’t like. So you remove your mouth from his neck which resulted with him whining. 

Your eyes connected with his and omg, you wished your phone wasn’t at the far end of the room because you would want to take a picture of his beautiful face. 

“Don’t hold back. If you do I will walk away.” Before he could say anything your lips landed on his and shit, that kiss is wet, messy, and a lot of fucking tongue. His tongue immidently found yours and you began to suck on the tip of his tongue. He had to open his mouth more so you can have enough room to suck his tongue. The mix of yours and Harry saliva are all over you guys. You pull Harry’s hair so his head is more lean back so you could do something you guys both shared a common interest in and that is spit play. 

You roughly spit in his mouth and the sound he made was so delicious. He closed his mouth to form his own spit and before you knew it, it landed on your face. All over your face. His salvia landed on your eyelids, your mouth, and  your forehead. 

You grab his cheeks and kiss him with so much force. The room is filled with pronographic sounds that’s both making you guys get so turned on because you guys both love hearing the sound you too make together. You remove your lips from his and you push yourself off from Harry so you can be right next to him. Before he could say anything you grab his face so he can turn to you and go back to feverishly kissing him all over. 

The image of him on stage with him swaying his hips and giving his nipple attention is something that’s not leaving you anytime soon. Both of your lips separated and Harry breathing is all over the place, if you didn’t see him taking his inhaler after he got off the stage you would’ve immediately gotten up and fetched his inhaler. 

“Stop teasing me.” He said groggily. 

“I’m not teasing anymore, baby.” You gave him a peck on his lips. You pushed him back so his back hit the back of the cushion. You’re eyeing him up and down, trying to figure out what you want to do to him, after a couple of seconds you have an idea. 

“Take off your shirt.” You said. 

Harry immediately did what you asked him to do. Snapping off his suspenders and unbuttoning his blouse. His whole stomach, his butterfly, and the bird tattoos are finally on display. Before you knew it your lips were on one of his four nipples. You suck on his nipple, but make sure you pay attention to the other three. You’re twirling your tongue around while sucking it because you love it when Harry does it to you. 

“Fuck baby. Omg.” Harry moaned out. His hand is at the back of your head playing with your hair. You move on to the next but instead of toying with his nipples with that one hand that isn’t be preoccupied you bring that hand to his covered bulge.

Harry landed a nice smack to your ass. You made eye contact with him. You let go of his nipple and you dribble spit over that nipple you were just sucking. He look at you like you were going to eat him alive. You gave him a smirk and went back to paying attention to his nipples. You keep palming his crotch while twirling your tongue, on his nipples. Keeping track of three nipples while you’re sucking on one is hard, but hey, whatever your pretty boy wants, he gets. 

“Mommy, I’m feeling weird.” Harry whined. You immediately stopped what you were doing because the last you wanted to do is make him feel uncomfortable. 

“I stop, I stop. Are you okay? What did I do? I’m sor-” 

“No, everything is fine, more than fine… amazing I might add. Just, you’re sucking on my nipples and palming my dick which is so simple, but that simplicity makes me feel I might cum any minute.” Harry whispered feeling lost how such a small act of you has him feeling like he could cum, just by this. 

“So I didn’t do anything wrong?” You asked Harry, making sure you’re not misinterpreting any of this. 

“No, absolutely not.” 

“Well…. If you want, I would like to make you cum just by doing that, if you don’t mind?” 

“Yes, mommy. Do whatever you like to do with me.” Harry rambled. You let out a toothy grin how excited and new how all of this is for him. 

You lean over to give him a quick peck on his lip, “good boy.” You said while giving him his last peck.

Your wet mouth went back to his nipples and your hand went back giving his cock attention. His cock is settled on his left thigh due to how hard he is. Just the image of him cuming on himself is something you were so destined to achieve. 

You lap your tongue around his areola. Just the sound of it all has you feeling something running down your inner legs, you know you have to take care of it, but not right now. Not at this moment. 

You tighten your grip on his cock to hopefully create a nice friction which rewards you having to listen to Harry’s moans. Harry’s hands are on your head trying to compose himself, but you knew the second he made that sound you knew he would cum any second. 

You remove your mouth from his nipples and went down to the other one that was below the one you just previously sucked. You guess this nipple holds a lot of sensitivity because Harry buckled himself out and let out a horrific sound you weren’t expecting to come down. So you decided the pace you were going at, will have him cuming, pretty fucking soon. 

“Baby, just like that. I’m going to cum. Can I take my cock out?” He whined. He can’t help himself to stay still due to the overload his body is feeling. This is pretty much all new to him. 

You exchange positions so your mouth is next to his ear, so he knows that isn’t going to happen. “No baby, I want you to cum just the way you are. I want the world to see how filthy you are by cuming in your trousers. Be a good boy and cum for me.” 

“Baby- Fuck” You start speeding your pace and you attach your lips to his to swallow every drop of his moan. After a couple of minutes of passionately kissing and letting him use your mouth as a soundproof room to let his moans and rubbing him off inside his pants, he finally came undone. 

“Fuck, Fuck, Yes!” You feel something warm coming out of him. You start massaging his swollen cock to bring him down your high and for him to come back to you. You start whispering sweetnothings to his ear to help him come back. 

His head fell onto your shoulder and you started soothing his hair pampering him with praises and love. Your baby boy deserves the world, and just wait and see what you have planned for him for the next couple of months.

[jossambird]

The scent on your coat P5

Summary: Otto spends time to reflect on his life and his encounter with you and decides to go find you… Only to meet someone else.

Otto Octavius x F!Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: Fighting, mentions of bleeding, NS/FW Subjects, Doc Yearning, Doc Jealousy,

AO3 Link for Previous Parts or on my masterlist!

For the next few days after your encounter, Otto couldn’t shake the feeling inside his stomach after seeing you again, heart beating happily as the image of you sprawled out for him reappeared in his mind. Just how long had it been?

Nearly a year had he been forced into a life of criminality, and no matter how much time would have passed, nothing could have ever changed his ever growing love for you.

The stars over his head remained hidden, just like he had been after his accident. The memory of it all felt fabricated, like a story out of the newspapers, but it wasn’t, and here he was, tentacles and all, no longer living the same life as before.

The night he had broken into Oscorp, everything had felt much too nostalgic for his taste, yourself included. You weren’t supposed to be there, served like a decadent meal on display for anyone to see. But you had been, and now, that image would remain forever ingrained in his memory.

Seeing you again in his lab, panting and touching yourself had caused him to feel all kinds of emotions all over again, mainly jealousy coursing through his system until he heard his own name escape your lips as you came.

“Ive only ever wanted you.” The very words replayed in his mind, heart beating faster at the thought. Did you also harbour a deeper emotion for him, just like he did for you? During your employment together, becoming close to you had felt like heaven, your smiles and gentle accidental touches always making his days better.

Otto sighed, eyes turning back to the endless black sky, and wondered if you were looking up too.

The state of his marriage to Rosalie had laid heavy on his mind, long before your employment as his assistant. Otto could still remember the moment he knew it was done, knew that his heart had stopped beating for Rosalie: You had smiled at a successful test, a simple little thing really, but the beauty in that moment, witnessing first hand your joy, had gotten him.

The love he had once felt for Rosalie had long since passed before that moment, just as her love for him had as well.

He had always felt jealous when Harry would come and see you, touching you innocently infront of him and everyone. Though, the very act of watching you always reject Harry Osborn’s advances left fire in his veins, pride radiating off him when you would turn back to him, smiling shyly as Harry left. Oh how he had always wanted to push you against his desk and take you right there, show Harry who you belonged to.

Now, in hindsight, he regretted becoming distant after the whole Harry hug ordeal, remembering how you would try to talk to him afterwards, worry painting your beautiful features with each passing day.

Most of all, he regretted not being able to properly tell you how much he had missed you, and just how much he loved you…

He started moving in seconds, claws burying themselves into the brick and steel of buildings, making his way towards the hideous Oscorp building. Perhaps, you would be working a late night shift again, and perhaps, you would be open to speaking with a villain and old colleague once more.

‘Speaking’ was perhaps not the right word to employ for what could potentially transpire between the two of you after his previous promise to you but he held no expectations, excitement coursing through his veins at the mere idea of seeing you again.

As he approached the Oscorp building and scaled up to the roof, he was met with a bizarre sight, momentary confusion equally held in the other man’s eyes.

Before him, on the very top of Oscorp Industries, sat Spider-Man. In seconds, Otto launched himself at the younger man, frustration rolling off of him in waves at the idea of not being able to see you tonight because of little Peter Parker.

A few moments passed, attacks flying left and right, yet… Something felt off, Otto thought, watching as Peter merely deflected his attacks and stood out of the way, never stepping forward to actually harm him or to the tentacles. He was taking the hits alright, but never retaliating, only receiving, as if to punish himself-

“S-Say Doc Oc- Doctor Octavius, can I ask you something?” Spiderman stuttered out, barely standing in place, face turned away from the older man. The younger man paused, mind jumbled while the villain remained still before him.

Otto didn't know what to do with this bizarre turn of events, looking at Parker in confusion and suspicion. He must have hit the boy on the head, or perhaps he was drunk, using his name for the first time in ages. Otto huffed out in annoyance, he’d much rather go back to trying to throw him across town then answer whatever stupid questions-

“If you loved someone… TRULY loved them, and you found out they loved another… Would you let them go?” Peter cut off his train of thought, making the elder man freeze at the intimate question.

Otto Octavius, renowned Scientist and villain, felt speechless. Of all people whom Peter Parker could have asked… Why him? Was this why Parker kept missing his attacks, barely avoiding his claws, tumbling left and right like a drunk? A broken heart?

“Yes, I would set them free.” Otto uttered without a beat, instantly regretting opening his damn mouth at the sight before him.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Peter tried to let out, a loud sob escaping as he staggered to the rooftops ground, mask in hand while the other hand furiously wiped his tears away.

Otto suddenly felt as if he were back in his old apartment, answering all of Peter’s questions, laughing and thinking just how bright and kind this young man was. But now, it was another woman roaming the halls of his apartment in his mind, another woman turning the corner to see him, your brilliant eyes shining as you smiled at him.

“Sometimes, to do what's right… we must be steady and give up the things we desire the most. Even our dreams.” Otto threw back the boy's own words that he had told him ages ago, knowing that despite everything, it was true. It was hard not to remember just how human they both were, and just how young Peter Parker was.

His eyes landed on the younger man once more, watching as Peter tried to regain a sense of decorum, despite the sobs that still shook his shoulders.

“Are they the one who told you they love someone else?” He asked after a beat, mild curiosity coursing through him as he tried to remember who Peter Parker had been interested in except that poor Mary Jane. The younger man let out a wet chuckle, surprising Otto as the boy smiled widely, fondly.

“She didn’t need to, she's always loved him, even if he didn’t know.” Peter uttered but shook his head, unmasked eyes turning up to look at the villain.

“She- she worked with him. They were pretty close.” Peter swallowed, sorrowful eyes turning away from the man.

“He left, and never came back, for her or his work. I'm the one who helped her pick up the pieces.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, our wedding is in a few days.” Parker smiled softly as if reliving a memory, eyes and skin blotchy red from his tears. He lifted his hand in the air, wedding band shining in the moonlight.

Silence reigned between the two men, a gentle breeze caressing Otto’s cheek as his mind ran wild, trying to discern who Peter kept alluding to, eyes turning towards the city around-

“You know, she loved you. Really love you.” Peter whispered with a laugh, but it didn’t matter, Otto had heard him loud and clear, body freezing at the younger man's implication.

“She loved you, waited for you. But you never came.” Parker continued, taking the man's silence as an invitation to be quiet.

The silence felt all too stifling, until a tentacle shot out from behind Dr Octavius, grabbing Peter by the throat and throwing him against the brick wall beside them. Emotions swirled in Otto, thoughts and memories flashing before his eyes as he imagined you with Peter Parker, imagined you under the boy, moaning Peter’s name instead of his own. Soon to be married, Y/N Parker.

The very thought of it all and the thought that Peter had had you under him caused liquid hate to course through the Scientist’s veins, wondering if Peter had ever been able to make you cum just as he had, remembering the way you’d gripped his hair and moaned HIS name, crumbling so beautifully under his tongue.

A growl escaped him as he launched after Peter, tentacles whipping right and left to try and catch the little shit.

Most of all, he imagined you disappearing forever, married to a boy, never to see HIM again. Never again would he hear you moan, never again would he hear you say his name, and most of all, never again would he see you smile for him. All of the dreams he had had of a life with you, ripped away because of Peter Parker.

Otto blinked, looking up to see the tentacles enthusiastically attacking Peter of their own volition, reacting to his jealousy, anger and sorrow. Though the scene before him took Otto Octavius by surprise, watching as Peter barely avoided the Claws, taking each hit that landed.

Otto watched the young man for a moment and decided, upper right Claw clasping itself around Peter’s throat, dragging the boy forward. Blood trailed down Parker’s mouth and nose but his quick hands reached out and grabbed Otto’s coat, hazy eyes focusing on his ex-Mentor.

Suddenly, Peter’s blue eyes sharpened, mouth opening to try and speak.

“P-Please, tell me… Could you love someone, be IN love with someone, as you are now?” Peter whispered, coughing up blood as he ground out his words, red splattering over Otto’s black turtleneck and leather coat.

“Pardon me?” Dr Octavius bite out, faltering for a moment at the way Peter watched him, as if trying to discern something important, shaking hands firmly balled in his coat.

“If you had that one chance right now, to tell her- to tell the person that you love that you want to be with them for the rest of your life and make them happy as you are now, tentacles and all, would you do it?” Peter asked, and in the brief second that followed his question, no matter how jealous he felt at the fact that Peter Parker had had you first, images of you coursed through his mind, your voice repeating every sentence you had ever told him. Peter’s little blunder had also not escaped him, the word ‘her’ ringing in his ears.

“In a heartbeat.”

Peter remained still under the claws hold, visibly debating something.

“Sometimes, to do what's right, we must be steady and give up the things we desire the most. Even our dreams.” The boy repeated once more, and even though Peter had thrown those words at him once before, now, it seemed the words weren’t for him. No no, instead, they were for Peter himself. Tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks once more but a smile appeared, tired eyes looking up at Otto.

[of-birds-and-men]

Kass gave Link a warm smile, the early morning sun dipping him in honey and making his smile glow even more. “Well, this is quite out of the blue. Not even a ‘hello?’ Much less a ‘please?’”

Link’s lips snapped into a flustered frown. “I’m sorry,” he frantically signed. “Please, could you teach me?”

After throwing his head back to bellow a laugh, Kass chuckled, “I am only messing with you, my friend. Do not worry.” He patted the spot next to him on the landing where he sat, signaling Link to sit by him. “I’m curious about what song you want to play. Which is it?”

Accepting the invitation to sit next to Kass, Link kept his head down as he shuffled over. His eyes flicked around and his cheeks started to redden the slightest bit. Why the answer embarrassed him so much, he wasn’t so sure, but it was hard to get his reply out.

“Ah,” Kass said with his smile still prominent on his beak as he set his accordion down next to him. “Do you mean to learn the other Champions’ songs as well?”

Link breathed in through his teeth and shrugged. “Maybe. But I want to learn Revali’s right now if I can...”

Kass looked down at him with raised eyebrows, as if gently urging him to elaborate. 

With that, Link rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged again. “Well...I don’t know. I had some memories come to me, but they’re foggy and I can barely understand them. But, something is telling me today is Revali’s…” His hand dropped and his brow furrowed in thought. He knew the sign for the Hylian term but didn’t know it for the Rito if there even was one for it. Opting to fingerspell, Link spelled it out with his fingers as Kass read it closely.

When he was finished, Kass’s beak hung open a little in interest. “Oh, so today is Champion Revali’s Hatchday? I had no idea.”

“Yeah, I…”

“...I think so.”

“You mean to play his song in his memory today?”

Link’s cheeks burned brighter. “Is that stupid?”

“Oh, no. Not in the slightest,” Kass assured, waving his hand. “In fact, I think it’s a lovely idea.”

“...Thanks. I don’t know what else I would do anyway. If there was something, I don’t remember it,” Link said, his hands moving slowly. His mind drifted; not that there was anywhere for it to go after his century-long sleep practically wiped it clean. 

He brought himself back to where he was with a sigh. “I don’t know. I would do something or leave him a gift, but I remember next to nothing about him. I don’t remember what he liked or even what he hated. Nothing...”

It was true. There were only a couple of clear memories of Revali that Link remembered now. Only a few moments where Link could see his face and hear his voice clearly. And then there were even more blurry, foggy images of him that were slowly trickling in and left Link with more questions than answers. Leaving him feeling like there was so much more that he was missing. Almost like he was missing an important part of himself; of what his life had been before Calamity Ganon struck.

Really, it was the same thing with everyone; with Zelda, Mipha, Urbosa, and Daruk. Brief memories, some clear and some so hazy they were beyond recognition.

But with Revali, it was somehow different. It hurt more. It was severely more painful. It made both his heart and head ache. And he had no idea why it was the case for Revali out of all of them. Why the one who seemed to like him the least, or even hated him, made Link feel this longing...No, this need...to remember and know him like he used to. However it had been.

Still, even though his mind was riddled by all sorts of questions he couldn’t answer after forgetting everything but his own name…

Something within him couldn’t quite let itself completely forget.

“But I know that I have to do something for him and this is all I can think of,” Link finished, taking his time with every hand motion as he stared down at the lake below them; the surface of the water was almost black with the light of the morning sun not having reached it yet.

Noticing the gloom that was beginning to dawn on Link again, Kass leaned over and spoke up in a chipper voice. “It is more than a generous gift. Do not sell yourself short. I’m sure that if he is still there to listen, he will be grateful.” 

Link forced a small smile to give to Kass. “Thank you. I hope you’re right.”

Kass let the corners of his beak curl all the way up to try and settle whatever troubles he thought Link had. “I must say though, I did not take you for the musical type,” he began. “What does a man like you play?”

Letting out a short hum, Link fumbled around in the small bag on his belt to show the instrument in question. Once he fished it out, he held it out for Kass to see.

It was an ocarina he had come across in his travels. His curiosity had driven him to buy it with the extra rupees he had on hand when he saw it amongst Beedle’s wares. Though, it wasn’t until he actually held it and felt the cool ceramic touch on his skin and the shape in his hands, did he realize it was not so much curiosity as it was familiarity. Or something close to it.

And again, it was proven to Link that while his head was clear of what made him himself in the past, there were many things that his body seemed to remember. Muscle memory helped him ride horses like a pro straight away, and instinct along with that allowed him to fight the way he had before without needing to relearn much of anything. It was the same sort of thing for the ocarina; as soon as he brought the mouthpiece to his lips, his fingers knew exactly where to go to play notes he didn’t remember and songs he couldn’t recall. It all came to him naturally as if playing it was once something that was ingrained in him. And he found himself occasionally fiddling with it until now. Too busy to really sit down and learn anything new, but playing what his lips and fingers remembered when he had a moment to himself.

If Link couldn’t leave Revali a proper gift on his Hatchday, then at least he could play his song, one of the last things the world had left to remember him by. Whether it was for Revali himself, if he was still there, or if it was in his memory on his day.

Or, even if it was just for Link; a way to remember Revali with what little he had left.

Hopefully, it would be enough. But it definitely didn’t feel like it, even if it was all he could really do.

“An ocarina certainly does suit you,” Kass said, looking at the instrument in Link’s hands before peering at him and pointing at it. “Ah, may I?”

Link nodded, allowing Kass to take the ocarina in his hands and examine it himself.

“Can you play it, too?” Link asked.

Tittering, Kass replied, “Well, Rito aren’t exactly equipped to play wind instruments, considering our anatomy.” He tapped his beak. “Though, I think once I found a way around it to make it work with this blasted thing on my face. Would you mind if I tried?”

Link’s lips tightly creased together to keep him from smirking as he shook his head and motioned toward the ocarina. He watched as Kass brought it to his beak, which clacked against the ceramic as he tried to find the best position.

Kass’ feathers ruffled; clearly, he was flustered, but he tried his best to get past it by laughing it off. “Well, this is certainly humbling. This proves that no matter how esteemed of a bard I may be, I simply cannot master everything...What with my pesky beak and less than graceful fingers.” He rubbed the mouthpiece of the ocarina on his scarf before handing it back to Link.

With how much spit he saw flying from Kass when he was trying the ocarina, Link decided to rub it again on his clothes for good measure. 

Kass let out another embarrassed chuckle and twisted around to grab his accordion. “I might not be able to give you direction, but I can teach you the notes.”

Link nodded. “That works,” he said, his last words before readying his hands to focus on his ocarina rather than on speaking.

Smiling while he slid his hands through his instrument’s straps, Kass said, “Well, let’s begin then.”

~

Link opened his mouth to say something, finding himself gaping at Vah Medoh, but clamped it shut again. He attached the ocarina to his belt for a moment to speak with his hands.

Whether he was really alone or if there was still someone there to see him, he was not sure at all. After the defeat of Ganon, he was never sure what happened to Revali or the others.

Even so...he had the feeling he wasn’t quite alone.

But maybe that was just him being hopeful. Hopeful that he wasn’t just making a fool of himself. Grasping at straws for nothing.

“Hi.” Instantly, he cringed at himself and hissed through his teeth. Now he really felt stupid. Nonetheless, he made himself go on. “I’m not sure if you’re even here right now or if I’m talking to myself. But, either way-“ Link took a second to swallow and fix his eyes back down to the ground beneath him. “I wish I could say I remember you. There are only little things I remember, but something is telling me there’s so much more to you...to us...that I’m still missing.”

Link licked his lips. He hoped that he was, in fact, alone, so Revali wouldn’t be seeing him rambling on to himself.

“But I know that we were close somehow. I feel that, once, you were the most important thing to me, but that’s all I know. I’m sorry.” He bit his lip that was still wet from when he licked them. “That’s why when I remembered it was your birthday-“ Link froze, then corrected, “Sorry, hatchday...I knew I had to do something for you, because, in a way, you still matter to me now as much as you did before. But you’re still a mystery to me; I know nothing about you further than you being a Champion and being the pride of your people.” He laughed a little to himself. “And that you didn’t like me at all. At first, at least. I’m not sure.”

Finally, he racked up the courage to look back up at Vah Medoh. “I do know your song though, which I’m sure you’d like to know is played by bards to keep your memory alive. I’m not one of those at all, but I can just barely remember how to play this thing and Kass taught me how to play your song. One of the things of yours that’s still here- Even if these are all the memories I can ever have of you, at least I can have this. And your bow, too.”

Nervously, he started to chuckle to himself. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Maybe I never should’ve said anything. Anyway, the point is...I know it’s a crummy present and I don’t know if you’re even still here to listen, but I learned how to play your song for you.”

Done with his monologue, Link anxiously took the ocarina off of his belt. For a moment, he stared at it and focused on the cool touch of it in his hand before slowly bringing it up to his mouth. He took in a deep breath while his fingers went to their places and he played what he learned for Revali.

Dormant, Vah Medoh said nothing in reply, leaving Revali alone to revel in both Link’s appearance and song. That was fine. He honestly hadn’t expected her to reply anyway.

Even when he couldn’t even remember him, Link was still annoyingly sentimental. It brought bittersweet comfort that, even with everything that had happened, it was still the same Link before him. His Link.

He had the same golden hair he used to run his fingers through. The same lustrous, sapphire eyes he used to stare into. The same quiet laugh that warmed Revali’s heart. The same strength that Revali both envied and once fell in love with. The same kindness. The same courage. The same everything. Every little thing Revali loved and even hated about him was still there, down below, playing a song for someone he didn’t even know anymore.

Still, it hurt knowing Link didn’t know him. Seeing no recollection on his face when Link first came to Vah Medoh...Seeing Link looking at him as if he was a stranger…

Well, it nearly broke his heart. To be eventually forgotten by his people was worse enough, but then to have the one he loved come back to him only to forget him, too…

Revali sniffed, resting his hand under his chin to watch Link far down below. 

Link was right. This was a crummy present. His finger clumsily fumbled around and he kept blowing into the ocarina’s mouthpiece too hard or too soft. Even from here, he could see his spit flying. Funny how, even over a hundred years later, he never did get better with that thing.

He really was still his Link. Just how he remembered him. Just how he loved him. How he would, unfortunately, always love him. Even if it meant being unrequited for the rest of time.

~~~

GASPS OUT OF BREATH,,,,,, WOW OKAY,, umm LOL here is le @revalinkexchange gift for @mars-janka ??? I. hm. certainly took some liberties and for some reason with my srs lack of expertise ..I was like “HEY I KNOW HOW TO MAKE THIS INFINITELY HARDER ON MYSELF!!! WRITE AND ALSO DRAW A BILLION PICTURES WHICH IS SOMETHING I BARELY KNOW HOW 2 DO.” 

//sobs// i was so drained of my life juices by the end that the quality DROPPED and im genuinely so sorry pls forgive me wwwwwwwwwwww- i even redrew the last link panels to try and make it better if u can believe it LOL i also was considering making a prose only version of this to make up for it but i honestly don’t know how to translate some bits to that...SO- ah

anyway...yaaaaaaaahhh happy valentine’s day!! hope u still like it despite my clear depletion of life juices dskjghkjag

also teehee ty @udog​ for helping me w vah medoh u smell

[blindbeta]

Blind/Visually Impaired Person’s Review Of ‘The Blind Bandit’

It is here! At almost 6 thousand words (I have a problem lol). This is a review of season 2, episode 6 in Avatar: the Last Airbender. The episode is called The Blind Bandit.

Note that this is only a review of the portrayal of blindness rather than the episode or show itself. This show also has audio descriptions on Netflix so any blind followers of mine can watch the show if the want to. I would also like to make it clear that this is my opinion. It is my no means lacking in bias and I won’t pretend that it is. I love this character for some of the reasons I will explain here, and that will show even as I consider criticisms of her or things that simply could have been better.

This character, Toph, was my first exposure to a blind character in television.

CHARACTER INTRO:

“Your champion, The Blind Bandit!”

We first hear Toph introduced as The Blind Bandit. She is described as having pale eyes which is usually how eye conditions are conveyed visually. Some online sources describe them as light grey or sea form green, but glazed over. This could be due to cataracts or some other deterioration. Part of me wants to mention that not all blind people have eyes like this. Most don’t; I don’t. However, blind people can have many eye problems outside of just The Blindness, so it isn’t inaccurate either, especially for a time period where eye surgeries are not available, and Waterbenders are not as easy to reach for healings as they may have been before the war. I also suspect her family would not care about cataracts if Toph was not in pain— their main issue would be her blindness. I’m getting ahead of myself.

The point is, I don’t mind the way her eyes are portrayed here. I do think non-blind people are too obsessed with portraying eyes like this, however, and I feel like it is not necessary in non-visual media unless you have established why their eyes are cloudy/lighter/Like That other than Because Blind. I’m happy they didn’t fall into the trap of portraying her eyes as constantly closed.

I also read somewhere that the creators tried not to move her eyes much. I don’t know how true this goal was, but I feel it is not entirely necessary. Blind people can also have uncontrollable eye movements or rapid eye movements. This might be too hard to animate and too confusing for viewers. Therefore, I feel the creators chose a more practical portrayal of eye movements that is the easiest to animate and least confusing for people who may not know blind eyes can and do move, whether due a condition or other factors.

“She can’t really be blind, can she?”

I like that everyone says “blind” without stumbling over it or treating it as a bad word. Katara is surprised and Aang is accepting, feeling hopeful that this girl could at last be his teacher. I even like that she chose to capitalize on it for her persona. Already we can tell Toph has no issue with being blind, nor does she feel the need to hide it in such a setting as this. She is already the champion— it must be working for her. It is this openness and acceptance of blindness that I like, especially from the main character. Rather than make her hide her blindness or angst over something she has lived with all her life, the writers just introduced it as fact. She’s blind and she’s a champion. That is how we meet Toph.

“Sounds to me like you’re scared, Boulder!”

Trash talk. She’s trash talking him. If the champion thing was not an indication that this wasn’t your stereotypical innocent, blind flower, her first line should be! Already Toph is brash and fearless. A far cry from the angelic stereotype we often get in the media.

“Your winner, and still the champion, The Blind Bandit!”

Toph kicks Boulder Butt. Pretty easily. I loved every second of it.

Now let’s talk about the Super Crip trope here.

IS TOPH A SUPERCRIP?

The Supercrip trope is a bit hard to pin down. I found a few definitions floating around. This link has two: Trope: SuperCrip | #CriticalAxis: a community driven project from The Disabled List

The Supercrip is seen as having “overcome” their disability in order to do normal things or even extraordinary things— with a focus on their disability rather than their accomplishments.

The first part is avoided. The narrative doesn’t focus on how extra special it is that Toph is doing things like: walking, talking, eating soup, sitting with her family, yelling at Aang and his friends, etc. Toph is not seen as extra special for doing normal things that her disability does not make more difficult. Not only would this be patronizing and ignorant, this would reflect that attitudes many real life strangers have: disabled people are so strange and mystical to some people that they feel the need to ask blind people on the street how they walk or talk.

Personally, I find this portrayal of disabled people to be the most harmful. It caters to able-bodied onlookers alone and offers nothing for disabled people. To clarify: the problem is not portraying disabled people/characters doing normal things! The problem is expecting your audience to feel inspired because a disabled person did a thing that is completely ordinary for them.

This does not apply to Toph.

Another definition is that a disabled person is portrayed as “overcoming” their disability in order to do something cool/big, usually something able-bodied people don’t do everyday. This disabled person is only noteworthy because they did something extraordinary such as win several gold medals. This presents two problems: 1) it is hard for disabled people to meet these expectations, especially when this is shown as the only positive way to live with a disability. And 2) able-bodied people see this and believe all disabled people must be winning gold medals or doing super extraordinary things because their disability somehow gives them privilege, pity-points, or superhuman powers that make up for their disability. An example of these powers would be the myth that blind people have superhuman hearing rather than simply using their hearing more than sighted people and thus being more attuned to sound. An example of pity-points would be the time my family was watching Dancing With the Stars featuring a blind contestant. After the dance, someone remarked that the contestant would probably get sympathy points and go on to the next round. Her talent was not a factor the same way it was for the able-bodied contestants; pity-points could not be separated from her success. It was impossible that she would be supported and judged the same way as the others, with her blindness being only an extra factor that might make copying a dance to learn it more challenging for her. Keep in mind, these ideas are so ingrained in people that my own family believed it in even when they know me and several of my blind friends.

Let’s consider Tooh:

Pity-Points? - Not even a factor. This was not brought up by Aang, nor Katara, nor Sokka. It was certainly not thought of by the owner of the battle ring nor Toph’s opponents. In fact, she was only doubted when she lost. Her talent was never viewed as the result of someone else’s pity or reduced to inspiration for an able-bodied wrestling audience. The announcer says her name and nothing else. Her parents don’t bring up the idea that Toph only wins because she was pitied either. They witnessed her bending and only believed they needed to protect her more, not that she was not talented.

Privilege? - It is no question that Tooh’s family is rich. It is hard to say how much that affects her here. She has a tutor who undermines her growth and is pretty much useless. She has protection she doesn’t want and riches she doesn’t seem to use. She does have more free time to battle as a result of her riches, not having to work at a young age (although her parents probably would not have let her even if they needed the money). Toph’s family status could have been seen as playing a role in her winning— if her parents allowed the world to know about her. - It is no secret that Toph is rich, however, when privilege is brought up by able-bodied people, they don’t usually mean riches (although the stereotypical rich disabled person is something I could discuss at a later time). They usually mean some combination of government benefits that may or may not exist and pity points. Disability makes things HARDER, not easier. A person can have multiple privileges they did not earn, or lack of privileges they did not ask for. Toph does not gain special privileges due to her disability, nor does she ask for or expect them. My opinion is that no one asks for this, anyway.

Super-human? - This one is a little trickier. It is the one people are obviously hung up on when they consider Toph. It is difficult to consider this without considering Toph’s entire arc. However, I have chosen to focus on her bending and “sight” and how it is used in this episode. I may talk about this more if I do other reviews. - First, bending. Toph is not the only bender in the series. She is also not the only good bender, as Katara is also someone who grows into her bending and becomes particularly powerful. Aang is already a master of airbending in addition to being the Avatar. He is special and particularly powerful, mastering water quickly. Azula is also said to be a prodigy and has mastered lightning at 14. The point is, Toph is a powerful bender. She is not the only powerful bender in the world. The Avatar needs someone to teach him and that person would, reasonably, have mastered their bending in order to teach the Avatar. - Now for Toph’s bending in relation to her blindness. It is true that Toph is powerful AND blind— is she powerful in spite of being blind? Is she powerful because her blindness gives her superpowers? This is tricky. To me, the narrative doesn’t go out of its way to say “she overcame her blindness and was able to win”. It also doesn’t show blindness as a superpower, such as causing superior hearing. - How is it portrayed then? First, Toph never has to “overcome” her blindness, which is important. The obstacle is the limitations placed on her. The obstacle is society, not her disability. Toph does not need to accept her blindness before doing anything, because she has been blind since birth. She does not have to overcome her blindness before fighting or becoming a champion because when we are introduced to her, she already was. She is not expected to overcome her disability in order to teach Aang; he tries to recruit her without seeing her disability as an issue. She does not need overcome her disability because it is not what stops her, as is the case for most people. There are some things being blind makes difficult, different, or impossible to do, but this isn’t one of them. Blind people can learn to fight. They can win. And when people reduce such accomplishments as “overcoming disability”, it can feel like a misdirection, like a dismissal of hard work and talent.

This does not happen with Toph.

Second, does Toph’s blindness give her superpowers? Maybe. I feel like it might be necessary to cover Toph in other episodes. However, this review is focusing mostly on The Blind Bandit and so I will focus on Toph’s unique “sight”. Toph’s bending is unique from others because she can feel the vibrations in the ground, allowing her to sense objects and people. This ability allows her to fight and beat others. In my opinion, this is more of an adaptation perfected through sheer amount of practice. Katara and Zuko don’t always bend. Toph is using her bending constantly. Of course she would be good at it. Her bending is a tool for her use. Fighting? That’s just a bonus, a hobby.

Toph also has weaknesses and is in fact beaten by Aang, who wasn’t even trying. Losing to someone who had no intention of winning is a pretty big deal.

Personally, I don’t think Toph is a supercrip in this episode. She is a Blind Seer, a trope popular in literature. The Blind Seer can’t see physically, but they can see in other ways you can’t. I don’t have an issue with this trope and think it can be used in cool ways, especially if the blind character isn’t the only one with a superpower.

I do, however, want people to question why a blind character always needs to have a power that relates to or makes up for their lack of sight in some way. Unless you are making a deliberate allusion to something or a blind is not the only one with sight-related powers, I ask writers to question why they jump to sight-related powers in the first place. Or powers related to hearing, something to “make up for” their lack of sight.

Can this be done well? Absolutely. Toph, while she can fall into both The Blind Seer and the Supercrip tropes for some people, she is beloved and interesting for many fans, blind or sighted.

I ask people to trace their logic about why they choose to give their blind character powers related to sight. What kind of power is it? Does it make up for (aka erase) their blindness and make them less relatable to blind readers/watchers? Are they the only blind character and/or the only person with such a power? Can they have another power? What works and does not work for good characters like Toph? Why?

Getting rid of these particular tropes are not the answer. I simply invite people to consider other options, try new things, think critically about why and what woks or doesn’t work in other characters.

I absolutely invite blind writers to use whatever tropes they want, as they can probably write it in a more nuanced way.

My personal opinion about the Supercrip trope is that it is somehow focused on success or talent as the enemy without recognizing what it means. Wanting to succeed is not wrong. Being competitive is refreshing!

It isn’t really about doing super things or not— it is about disabled people being made to feel like they will not be successful, accepted, or taken seriously if they do not win everything or succeed at impossible feats. Able-bodied people are permitted to exist without needing to prove anything. Disabled people are not afforded that respect.

Either disabled people fight against the ingrained expectation that they simply cannot do anything, that will FAIL, because of their disability, or they fight against the realization that, for many people, even impossible feats will never be enough. Their accomplishments will never be seen as just that— accomplishments.

Blind characters should be talented or hard-working, prodigies or people who claw their way to the top. Their disability may be an obstacle and it may, in fact, barely even be necessary to mention aside from adaptive tools. The Supercrip is so alluring because people are under the impression blind people— and disabled people as a whole— cannot do anything. To the point that some condescendingly assume certain things are impossible because they did not think of adaptive techniques or technology. This is why research is important.

Remember why this trope/stereotype exists: for the inspiration of able-bodied people who are uninterested in making changes in society’s attitudes and the amount of accessibility it provides. Problematic tropes like this usually have a specific issue behind them and you cannot tackle or discuss r subvert the trope until you understand the harmful reason it exists.

Not everyone agrees with me. Here are some reading materials:

On the pervasive Supercrip trope in martial arts:

http://feministing.com/2010/02/19/media-portrayal-of-disability-and-martial-arts-a-personal-statement/

On the pressure this trope puts on blind people:

Challenging the ‘Supercrip’ Stereotype of People With Disabilities | The Mighty

[In the comments, I would prefer people not speculate about Toph being a Supercrip or not if they aren’t blind themselves. It would be more helpful to focus on other aspects of this review or share posts by other blind people instead.]

Keep in mind, this is only a review of one episode. And I personally will take a powerful disabled character over a powerless, sad one anytime.

This concludes our commercial break. Back to the show.

BEING BLIND IN EARTH KINGDOM SOCIETY

Earth Kingdom Boy 1: “Well, a flying boar is the symbol of the Beifong family. They’re the richest people in town. Probably whole world.” Earth Kingdom Boy 2: “Yeah, but they don’t have a daughter.”

Now this is interesting. It implies that Toph is: a) hiding herself well so as to keep up her double life and/or b) being hidden by her family. I suspect it is a little of both. A) is pretty obvious, especially with the wall surrounding their estate, while b) could be due to overprotectiveness or shame on the part of her parents. Shame may seem harsh. However, this is not exactly a modern time period and respect for disabled people can vary depending on culture, time, place, and individual attitudes.

When portraying poor social attitudes toward disabled characters, writers must work hard to show the attitudes as wrong and work to reduce them. I do feel that, like with gender discrimination, people tend to preemptively assume accepting disability is modern and Western concept- and that any ableism is fair game because it is realistic. That is far from the truth, especially if they get it wrong.

Too much and it could be mistaken for an excuse to be ableist. Too little and it may seem like erasure of societal barriers faced by blind people.

Let’s see how the ATLA writers handle this.

TOPH’S “SIGHT” AND MISSED OPPORTUNITIES

Anyway, the Gaang finds Toph again. Toph: “What are doing here, Twinkle Toes?” Aang: “How did you know it was me?”

Two things stick out here. I love that The Gaang interacts with her normally and this episode is not about the able-bodied characters learning how to treat a disabled person like a person, nor is it about them confronting their biases. Instead, they have a favor to ask, one that Toph cannot grant. The episode shifts focus onto Toph and her emotions and needs.

I also liked that Aang asks how she knew it was him. This is a common question and it seems to be asked in curiosity rather than implied judgment or suspicion on Aang’s part, as is often the case nowadays. Later in the episode, Toph explains how she knew, but she could also have recognized his footsteps (light as they are) with or without her bending. Blind people are also usually more reliant on hearing or smell and so may pick up on scents or sounds others do not. That is not to say their hearing or smell are superior (see the Supercrip discussion), but that they are used more often. This is how I conceptualize Toph’s bending— it is something she uses all day, every day. Like her hearing and smell and touch, she is more reliant on these senses and so uses them in ways others don’t.

I do wish we had a few more examples of this in the episode/show rather than Toph using her bending for every situation. As I said, I do not mind that she can “see” with bending as it is not true sight, but showing how she uses other senses would have been nice details.

TOPH’S PARENTS HAVE ENTERED THE RING

Toph: “I thought I heard something! I got scared.” Guard: “You know your father doesn’t want you wandering the grounds without supervision, Toph.”

With this, we can understand her father is overprotective, so much so that Toph is able to believably pull off this act of helplessness in front of the guards. Her father does not believe even walking around her own home is safe for her.

With that in mind, it is NOT a plot hole that she can walk around her home in front of her parents. Even overprotected blind kids don’t use canes or need a guide within their own homes as they often memorize the layout. Canes are not usually used inside ones own home or very familiar areas. Outside areas might be an exception as they are likely to change due to nature or redesign, but generally familiar, casual areas do not warrant canes or guides. It is completely believable that Toph can walk around in her own home without causing suspicion.

Toph’s father, indicating soup placed in front of her: “Blow on it. It’s too hot for her.”

Not only is her father overprotective, he is infantilizing. He thinks she can’t blow on her own soup and must be confined to basic stances of bending, something Toph is clearly unhappy with. Toph’s parents are the kind of people who wouldn’t let her watch TV lol!

Toph’s father: “And sadly, because of her blindness, I don’t think she will ever become a true master.”

There it is. There are many people in the world who have this mindset, believing disabled people succeeding is unrealistic, or only achieved by pity-driven intervention from others for inspirational purposes or a lie told by overly soft parenting. Toph’s father may seem radical, but his views are very common even for those close to a blind person. Even for those who might like the inspirational stories about blind people doing things.

HOW TOPH SEES THE WORLD

Toph: “It’s kind of like seeing with my feet.”

This is where I disagree with some interpretations of Toph. She can sense where things are and what they are. She has a wider range than someone with a cane would. However, I don’t know if this is quite erasing her blindness. Could they have done better? Yes. However, to claim the show made her sighted with magic is not quite fitting to me. Toph is not seeing with a magical potion, nor did Katara heal her blindness. She is using a power a lot of people in the ATLA universe have in bending, one she has used her entire life and perfected through sheer number of practice hours. I think it helps that she did not get this power, narratively, because she was blind. Rather she is a blind person who adapted a skill to her use.

A cane or an animal guide might have helped make the narrative more relatable for blind people, however. They could have also played up being unable to see people’s facial expressions. In other episodes, they show areas where she is unable to bend, such as on ice, sand, or floating objects like the warship or Appa.

In these instances, they could have shown sighted guide.

However, I think what they did worked. Would I suggest anyone else try it? Maybe not. It depends on their motivation for doing it. Toph’s powers basically act as a cane or Sunnu band would. They aren’t a magic spell letting her see all the time.

They could have done a little better— I still think it worked. It does not seem to have unfortunate implications of sight being better than blindness or blindness needing special cures.

For writing purposes, it is important to understand why this worked, how it was portrayed, factor in that bending is not unique to Toph, understand the nature of her ‘sight’, and understand what they could have done better. Just because it works here doesn’t mean it will work everywhere. It is important for writers to understand that and question their motivation for giving their character a different kind of vision.

THE DISABILITY EPISODE - AVOIDED

Toph’s father: “My daughter is blind. She is blind and tiny and helpless and fragile. She cannot help you.” Toph: “Yes. I can.”

Some may feel uncomfortable that Toph’s first episode is about her parents doubting her, dealing with ableism and being forced into stereotypes by her own family. It is important to remember that this is a show for children and any blind children watching it will have dealt with similar issues from adults in their lives. The show doesn’t seem to say this is the only narrative a blind character can have, but rather that it is a relatable occurrence for blind children who are watching it.

Toph also has many episodes left — this is only the beginning. This is hardly her only arc, and even her personality and abilities challenge so many stereotypes.

In most shows, the blind character gets one episode. Toph, however, is a main character.

Toph is also a well-rounded and interesting character with agency. She hardly seems like an inspirational puppet for adults.if this show had been written for adults or if Toph had been focusing on wanting to become a champion “despite her blindness”, I might have felt upset. It goes to show how important nuance is when writing disabled characters and how powerful it can be to make an effort to challenge stereotypes.

This is not how we first see Toph— helpless, unproductive. Instead, we FIRST see her out in the world kicking butt with her bending skill and I think that it is important.

NOT SO HELPLESS AFTER ALL

Toph’s father uses these words to describe her: Tiny, helpless, fragile. Unable to help others. Unexpected to become a true master or even advance beyond breathing techniques.

Toph challenges all of these at some point. She helps Aang defeat the bad guys. She faces many people in battle and wins, remaining an undefeated champion until Aang accidentally beats her. She advances far beyond basic bending techniques. Toph is good at very active things, with bending as a martial art and as a sport here. It is refreshing to see blind characters being so active and a stark contrast to the passive image her father has of his blind daughter. She does things for herself, including developing her bending style without the help of a master who limits her- and she hides her double life well. Toph’s ability and personality also challenge notions of fragility: she is boisterous and fearless, stubborn and even a bit rude. She mostly says what she wants to and fiercely hides what she doesn’t want to, even when pressured. She yielded only to her parents, which is tied up in love, respect, fear that they will no longer love her, possible aversion to change in some aspects of her life, and cultural expectations. For disabled children, it is often hard to go against your parents because the world teaches you that the world will never accept you or allow you to live in it. Your family is all you have.

Toph IS tiny, although that is due to genetics, environmental factors, and her age. However, her stature is used to prove the other qualities assigned to her when in reality her height has nothing to do with anything her family believes about her.

When the fighting starts, Toph creates a cloud of dust which effectively blinds her opponents. I thought it was a nice, ironic touch. The point is not just that her opponents now cannot see; Toph is already used to fighting under these conditions. She didn’t level the playing field. She is already better than them, already used to working without sight, and so the advantage is hers.

ABLEISM IN ACTION

Later, Toph confronts her parents:

Toph’s father: “You will be cared for and guarded 24/7.” Toph’s mother: “We are doing this for your own good, Toph.”

Unfortunately, this kind of infantilization is not uncommon. They saw her as she truly was and were still unable to let go of their ideas of their blind daughter. At this point, Toph is more trapped than ever despite opening up. The first time, it was surprising to see them not change their minds, given the happy endings we are used to in children’s shows. However, what happens is more relatable to blind kids with overprotective or controlling parents.

Of course, Toph makes the choice to leave them, showing more agency than most blind characters get, with or without controlling parents.

OVERALL

Overall: I loved this episode. It was a nice introduction to a character that both challenged expectations and dealt with obstacles relatable to blind fans. Toph’s struggles with her parents and the weight of stereotypes could have been cheap inspiration porn, but the way it was handled and the target audience of children rather than adults changes things immensely. This episode goes out of its way to challenge many stereotypes viewers may hold about blind people in ways that are fun and exciting. Toph’s personality is refreshing even over a decade later. While her bending as ‘sight’ may be disliked by some, it feels more like something with missed opportunities (the use of a cane or sighted guide), although I thought this episode did it well. Toph is not given special powers so that she can see—she adapts an ability for her own use.

Toph is a martial artist, encouraging children to try something similar if they are interested. She challenges her own parents, which may be very relatable to blind fans.

Unlike most children’s shows of the time (and even now), Toph does not feel like a vessel for able-bodied viewers to learn about blindness.

ACCESSIBILITY:

However, it is important to remember that at the time ATLA aired, there was no Netflix with audio descriptions. Descriptions were infrequent at the time and are still spotty on cable TV. The ATLA DVD did not have audio descriptions either, which is the case with all DVDs I have come across. Netflix also took an embarrassingly long time to add audio descriptions to a show with a blind character.

Consider that Toph was nearly inaccessible to blind children at the time — until 2020, well after other sighted children could enjoy it fully. Blind children could not watch a show about them with the same ease that a sighted child could. Think about that.

Is the show to blame for this? I don’t know. Usually the broadcasting service handles descriptions. I have yet to come across a DVD with descriptions. However, I wonder why it took this long. Did the staff consider a blind audience at all? Could they have pushed for descriptions to be added to the DVD?

And what about fans? Did fans consider that the character who challenged stereotypes for them might not be as accessible to blind people themselves? While they scrabbled about whether the characters were ableist, did they bother to consider Netflix’s lack of audio descriptions? Do they remember to add image descriptions to GIFs, pictures, or video clips in the years ATLA was popular online? Did any of this occur to anyone BUT the blind community?

Doesn’t seem like it.

TOPH AND THINGS I WOULD LIKE TO SEE MORE OF/LESS OF IN BLIND CHARACTERS

I made a post about things I would like to see more/less of in blind characters. You can read it here:

https://blindbeta.tumblr.com/post/637419979125489664/things-i-want-to-see-more-ofless-of-in-blind

Here’s how Toph compares to that!

More of: -Blind main character ✔️ -Blind character of color ✔️ -Active (sports/martial arts) and competitive ✔️ -Acknowledgment of difficulties faced in society ✔️

How They Avoided Things I Wanted Less Of: -Being portrayed as sad or broken because of blindness - Avoided - Toph owns her blindness by giving herself the same The Blind Bandit. The only time she is sad is when facing ableism from her parents.

-Being innocent, helpless, and unrealistically kind or selfless - Toph proves she is not helpless, even directly challenging it in the narrative. - Toph is also not unrealistically kind or selfless, not only insulting other characters- but refusing to help Aang when he needs it because it would change things between her and her parents. She also challenges her parents in the end, putting her desires before their feelings toward their perceptions of her. When she follows Aang, she doesn’t do so only to help him. She has her own want to travel and gain independence. - As for innocence, Toph IS 12, although she is far from naive. She is able to fool her own parents into thinking she is who they want her to be.

-Being portrayed as ungrateful or rude in general - Toph’s rudeness comes from a non-ableist place—herself. She is not rude due to anger about being blind nor rude due to entitlement. She doesn’t accept she doesn’t need and is not demonized for this, even when going against her own parents. Toph’s rudeness is in her personality, making it subversive in avoiding the idea blind people must accept all help and be grateful for it. The narrative does NOT expect Toph to go along with the ‘help’ of her parents or even Aang. She refuses this help until she is ready and willing to receive it.

-Going blind due to accidents or trauma - Toph was born blind

I WOULD HAVE WANTED TO SEE: -more adaptive technology/skills in addition to her bending -how she utilizes her other senses -another blind, minor character somewhere in the show (doesn’t apply to this episode, but still)

Toph is, in the end, a token blind character. It works better because she is a MAIN character, which is still not a common occurrence in modern media at all. Toph works because she does not have any stereotypical traits about her personality, which means the sighted audience does not have to rely on another character to broaden their perspective. However, it is still important to include more than one blind character in your stories. For ATLA, 1 or 2 minor blind characters may have helped, or maybe an additional secondary or even main character with low vision.

Toph has a well-rounded personality, which also means the “token” is not completely applicable to her. Toph is a great character. It would have been nice if she were not the only blind character. In fact, I cannot think of any show that has more than one blind character, as if it is a character quirk that cannot be done more than once.

RANDOM IMAGINES TIME

Now I’m imagining a Zuko whose eyesight was affected by the burn or a Zuko whose father decided he didn’t need that side of face anyway if he could not see out of it. Or an Azula who is blind and still better than Zuko -sticks out tongue-! Or perhaps Sokka or Ty Lee contrasting Toph’s personality and bringing to the table a struggle with a lack of depth perception while hunting or performing in the circus, respectively.

The point is, you don’t have to overload your story with blind characters unless you are setting it at a school or event for the blind. Instead, consider who is blind in your story and who else possibly could be. Consider why you only have one blind character and why.

That about wraps up all my thoughts on Toph. In short, I love her. There are things they could have done better or additions they could have made to improve the episode and Toph’s character as a whole, but she is still one of the most beloved and recognizable blind characters ever. I think that says something about the impression she left on people.

If only she would have been accessible to more blind children from the start.

I hope this review was helpful! If you need help writing blind characters I provide sensitivity reading in exchange for donations. My inbox is also open for questions.

[dracowars]

the right thing | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,0k

summary: where y/n does the only right thing, much to the dismay of everyone else

a/n: i had this idea in mind for so long and finally managed to bring it to life, enjoy <3

warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of childbirth, torture, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

"Darling, are you listening to me?", your father's voice tears you out of your dreamy, peaceful thoughts and you silently direct your gaze from the nature outside, which is quickly passing by, to him. As an answer you nod, even though you were definitely not listening a bit.

"Very good! I am so incredibly proud of my grown up daughter", he smiles at you and takes off the glasses he used to read out what is written on the parchment in his hand to you when you were not listening.

You do not answer or show a reaction, causing your father to clear his throat nervously before looking down while you switch your own gaze back out of the moving carriage.

As much as you would like to believe what he is saying, you can't. This man has ruined your entire life and is now only trying to make up for it with his stupid niceness and courtesy. Just like he always has, knowing that you will never forgive him for what he did.

The sudden waggling of the carriage makes you assume that you have arrived and at that very moment you recognize the large creaking gate that leads into a wide avenue to a huge mansion. The Malfoy Manor.

Your pureblood family has been very influential for generations, just like the Malfoys, so it not really surprising that you and Draco immediately befriended each other in your first year at Hogwarts. A friendship that soon became more than that.

What you did not expect, however, is that you would get engaged to each other just as quickly.

Your parents wasted no time after learning about your relationship. After all, it would mean the continuation of the purity of your families as well as the union of two of the most influential families in the whole wizarding world. And it was clear for both of you that you were lucky to have met, because otherwise you would probably have married someone you would not have loved with your whole heart.

And yet, you are not happy.

The creaking of the carriage door opening by magic, makes you flinch before you follow your father out and are now standing in front of the huge building you have already visited several times. One of the house elves leads you to the large front door and another leads you through the halls of Malfoy Manor, past the numerous locked doors and through sparsely furnished corridors.

As soon as you arrive in the long, dark dining room, your breath gets stuck in your throat when you look over your father's shoulder, only to see many faces that you would not have expected to see here. Especially not the face of a specific someone since you originally assumed that you would only gather here to discuss more wedding preparations.

"Oh, how nice! The Y/L/N family has finally made it", the Dark Lord grins devilishly, locking his cold eyes with you, and your father bows respectfully before you two sit down at the wooden table, directly across from Draco and his parents. He throws you an unsettling glance and your pulse rises immediately.

"Very well. Now that we are complete, let us begin", Voldemort speaks up treacherously while strutting around the end of the table, his wand openly displayed in his pale, bony hands.

If there is one wizard in this entire universe that you can't stand, it is definitely him, even though you are a Death Eater and thus belong to his close entourage.

But you never had a choice.

Your mother died during childbirth, but your father had already foreseen it and did not want it to come true. In order to prevent this, he ran to Voldemort and his people to beg for help. He so gladly granted him his wish, but only on the condition that his only daughter and heir to the wealthy Y/L/N family will become a Death Eater at the age of sixteen. And so it happened.

Of course he was not able to rescue your mother from death, but you are not sure whether you would be sitting here at this table right now without his help or if you would not have survived the birth either. Whatever it is, you do not know what you would have preferred.

All in all, you harbor an abysmally hatred for this man as well as for your own father, who simply sold his daughter to the evil in person. For nothing but an empty promise.

In your eyes this man is not and never will be your father. To you, he is nothing more than a ridiculous, old and bitter coward.

You hear Voldemort keep talking in the background, but his words do not go inside of your head and you just emotionlessly stare at Draco on the other side, who switches his intimidated gaze between you and the other end of the table. Only when you follow his gaze do you understand why he has this kind of an expression plastered all over his face.

At the other end, across from the position where Voldemort is currently making his hate speech against Harry Potter, a terrible looking woman hangs upside down from the ceiling, softly whimpering. Floating in the air by a spell, she moves around a bit and if it were not for her making quiet noises, you would have thought she was dead.

But when her empty gaze meets yours, an ice-cold shiver runs down your spine. It is Mrs. Burbage, your Muggle Studies teacher. You almost did not recognize her because of her distorted appearance. Her pale, lifeless face, however, seems to be staring at you, almost piercing through you, making you feel like it is your fault that she is hanging there.

You quickly turn away from her and look down at the empty table, which suddenly seems much more interesting than anything else in the room while you try not to let the deep, ingrained shock show. Taking in a deep breath, you only lift your head up again when a silver snake's head is thrown on the table, frightening you for a second.

Apparently Voldemort has just damaged Lucius Malfoy's wand in order to use it himself. The look on Lucius' face makes you shudder again. You have never seen him like this before and you have had to spend a lot of time with him and the other Death Eaters already.

Just as shocked as you are, Draco is as well while looking to his father. Draco, like you, never wanted to become a Death Eater, but his father's failures eventually forced him into this position and now you are both bound to the same horrible fate, caused by your own fathers.

While Voldemort continues to drag their family name into the dirt with his words, you and Draco just look at each other intensely. As if you could understand what is going on in the others' mind.

At least until a green spark flies across the table in the middle of you two and Nagini snakes over it shortly afterwards. Unnoticed, you move your chair back a litte. Already suspecting what is going to happen, you turn your head away and try to block out the disgusting and disturbing noises that are triggered by killing one of your favorite teachers.

In the end, however, you are unable to take it any longer, getting up and running out of the room with your head and shoulders lowered, but you can still hear how the Dark Lord declares the meeting finished as you run down the stairs. Holding your hand in front of your mouth, your insides make a flip and you feel incredibly sick all of a sudden when you come to a stop in one of the hallways.

Startled you turn around when you hear your name behind you, but as soon as you recognize that it is Draco who followed you, you crash into his arms and he catches you, protectively holding you against him.

"D-Draco", you bitterly sob into his chest and he just hugs you tighter, trying to calm you down.

"Shh, love. I know, I know", he silences you softly and puts his hand on the back of your head while you remain in this position for a few minutes. Until you hear your father's annoying voice.

Moving away from Draco and straightening your posture, you look in the direction from where your father is now running towards you, Narcissa closely behind him.

"Darling, there you are! I will go back home now and you will have a nice time here", he happily announces, not even noticing how miserable you are. But what else did you expect from him?

"We will take good care of her, don't worry", Narcissa smiles, but it does not quite reach her eyes and therefore stays cold. Your father seems satisfied by her answer and, together with all the other Death Eaters, leaves.

"I will make us some tea", Narcissa clears her throat and you follow her into the salon, your hands intertwined.

A few days later Draco and you comfortably lay on the couch in front of the big fireplace in the afternoon, an open book about potions in your lap, your head leaned against his broad shoulder. As you continue to rummage through your book, Draco gently takes your hand in his and smiles down at you before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

Your little moment of peace and contentment, however, is quickly destroyed again when Bellatrix's crazy laugh echoes through the room.

"Draco, Y/N, my darlings! I searched for you everywhere", she giggles as she strolls towards you, pressing her wand against her temple as she stops in front of the sofa. You expectantly look up at her, waiting for her to explain why she so rudely interrupted your moment.

"Bellatrix! What is going on here?", Lucius suddenly rushes in after her, Narcissa following him, so that you are all gathered now.

"Oh! I assume you have already met our lovely guests", Bellatrix laughs and, as if on cue, two more men enter the living room. Death Eaters. Deeply breathing in shock, you abruptly get onto your feet when you discover that they did not come alone.

Hermione, Ron and someone who somehow looks like Harry Potter but isn't, are pushed ahead of them until they are ungently thrown to the ground, right in front of Bellatrix's feet.

"Welcome, welcome", she licks her lips bloodthirstily, a playful laugh escaping her throat as your gaze meets Hermione's. There is nothing but disappointment in her eyes. Disappointed that you do not step in, that you just watch.

You avert your gaze and look at the other person and the longer you look at him, the more it becomes clear to you that this is Harry Potter after all. Terrible things have been done to his face that made you barely recognize him.

"Why are they here?", you choke out and Bellatrix turns to you in amusement, giggling while mockingly sulking as she presses her knife against Harry's throat.

"Why not? Well, Draco! Why don't you come over here and and take a closer look", she urges Draco and he slowly loosens his grip on your hand, not even realizing how hard you have squeezed his. He cautiously walks towards his aunt, even though you would like to stop him immediately.

"Come closer. What does he look like to you, huh?", she asks him and Draco stops right in front of them.

He hesitates.

Lucius suddenly stirs next to you and puts his hand on Draco's back, whispering something into his ear which you can't hear before he raises his voice out of nowhere when one of the Death Eaters intervenes. Narcissa manages to calm Lucius down though and pull him away from their son.

"Don't be shy, sweetie. Come over", Bellatrix persuades him and takes his hand to pull him closer to the disfigured Harry, giving him a better view. You can clearly see the fear in Harry's eye that is not swollen, and something deep inside of you keeps telling you that it would not be right to betray him. You are about to step in when Draco mutters under his breath for the first time since they entered the room, kneeling down in front of Harry.

"What is wrong with his face?"

"Yes, what is wrong with his face?", Bellatrix counters and adresses the two men, but you automatically block out their conversation, only being able to concentrate on Harry and Draco. Draco examines his face closely, but you are sure that he too immediately recognized that it is actually Harry. However, he gets up with a shake of his head and remains silent.

You just do not understand why he does not say anything.

Maybe he never wanted to become a Death Eater either, but still, you always had different views on Harry Potter and his Gryffindor friends. He loathed them since first year, and yet he does not betray him now.

The sudden screeching by Bellatrix and the following fighting noises release you from your numbness and you only see how she orders the now injured men to disappear, a silver sword in her hand that was not there before.

"Put the boys in the cell! I will have a conversation with this one", she angrily growls and pushes Harry and Ron to Narcissa and Wormtail, who take them to the basement. "Get out!"

Not being able to move from the spot, you stop and do not obey her instructions, making her give you an aggressive look until Draco quickly grabs your wrist and roughly pulls you away from the scene, Hermione now alone with Bellatrix.

You have just left the room when you hear a terrible scream from behind you and there is no doubt that it came from Hermione.

"What is she doing to her, Draco?", you furiously ask him and pull your hand out of his strong grip, a little too strong for your liking.

"I don't know. Let us go upstairs and-"

"No!", you interrupt him angrily and his eyes widen at your sudden outburst, not expecting it.

"No?"

"I am not just going to look away when someone is tortured!", you yell at him and immediately turn around to go back, but Draco stops you.

"You can't do anything for her, Y/N! It is the best idea if we just stay quiet and let it happen. I can't risk them harming you as well", he explains and his voice softens towards the end, almost gets vulnerable, which is why the tension in your body slowly fades.

"But Draco.. This is Harry Potter and if your aunt finds out about it, he is doomed!", you sadly whisper and place your hands on his chest, fists clenched.

"Do you think I do not know? I do not want them to get him either, but we have no choice if we want to stay safe, my love", Draco sighs and lowers his head in defeat, his left hand clasping and loosening your fist, the cold rings on his finger slightly touching your skin. "Promise me that you will stay safe here with me."

"I-I.. I promise", you nod and avert your gaze, unable to look in his eyes while uttering such a lie. However, Draco has no chance to say anything about it when in the next moment a loud clink shakes the walls of the mansion.

Throwing a shocked look at each other, you quickly return to the room and abruptly stop in the middle when you see Narcissa defending attacks by Harry and Ron. Lucius growls behind you and you see him laying on the glass table that probably was destroyed by the impact of his body hitting against it. You are about to pull out your wand when Bellatrix loudly yells.

"STOP!"

Everyone's gaze falls on the knife she is holding against Hermione's throat and you discover a bleeding wound on her forearm, the word 'mudblood' cut deeply into her skin. Bellatrix's work.

"Drop your wands!", she orders and shortly afterwards they fall to the ground. "Pick them up, Draco!"

With you by the hand, Draco quickly picks up their wands and leads you back to his parents, his body blocking you protectively as he stands in front of you.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here. It's Harry Potter", Bellatrix whisper-yells into Hermione's ear, who is trying to suppress her sobs while Harry's face is suddenly turning back to normal. "Just in time for the Dark Lord.. Call him!"

The last command coming from her mouth makes you swallow hard, but the lump in your throat won't go away. Especially not when all eyes are on you and Draco alone now. Their faces soaked in expectation and disappointment, it only intensifies the conflict within you.

"Call him!"

Releasing you from your suffering, Lucius steps forward when neither Draco nor you stir a single bit, pulls up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark on his forearm, the same one that painfully adorns your skin as well and always reminds you of who you have to obey. You see how the snake slowly winds around the skull and you look back and forth between him and Hermione, trembling.

"I am sorry, Draco", you breathe out barely audible, closing your eyes while doing so before letting go of his hand.

In a matter of seconds, you raise your wand, aim at the magnificent chandelier on the ceiling that is directly above Bellatrix and Hermione, and the following words fall off your lips with sudden ease.

"Confringo!"

All at once everything that happens next is like in slow motion. The huge chandelier crashes down onto the parquet, freeing Hermione from Bellatrix's grip and you are thrown to the ground as well. Raising your blurry gaze again, you see feet right in front of you and are suddenly pulled up onto your legs again.

By no other than Harry.

He brings you to the others and the last thing you see is the hurt, disappointment and heartbreak on Draco's pale face as you feel a stabbing, sharp pain from both your own broken heart and the dagger piercing through your skin that was thrown by Bellatrix before you vanish into thin air.

[dangermousie]

CFC Chapter 54

“A crashing car?” Ahahahaha I see you, Meatbun. But it was indeed an utter pileup!

I know I commented on this passage in its various iterations eight billion times already but I still have more to say. And it’s that XQC taking so long to realize that even though HY is young, his emotions and feelings are as genuine and strong as those of anyone older is so realistic - people do tend to think that especially with regard to children - think of a reaction of an adult to a three year old crying over ice cream they dropped. It’s all amused even if not meanly so. Because to an adult with vastly more experience, this is not a big deal. But what that forgets is that whether it’s ridiculous to someone else or not, to the person at issue that is a real feeling, AND that of course a person can only feel through the lens of their experience - what else is there? Emotions aren’t any less valid because they are informed by lesser or different experience.

Honestly, to me so far this is one of the driving messages of the novel - everyone is in their own world of issues and pain and none of these characters can truly look through the lens of another person and it would be so much better if they did. To XQC, for so long, He Yu’s strong feelings (and we know so many of these feelings are awful - despair, and self-loathing, and loneliness) never quite felt real and therefore never quite felt fully valid. And by the time it wasn’t the case, it was too late.

But the same is true for He Yu - he is so concentrated on his own grievances and his own pain, he cannot perceive others’ different issues. In He Yu’s mind, he’s the winner and always champion of Misery Olympics and while he’s had a horrible time of it, that doesn’t mean other people didn’t either just in different ways. Whether because of his condition, his issues or just his age, HY is not empathetic in the least.

And think about it - XQC does not have a horrible illness. He does not have unfeeling parents. But he had to watch his beloved parents brutally murdered in front of his eyes at 13 (!!!!) and then had to raise a 5 year old by himself. Is it worse or better than HY’s trauma? That’s a matter of opinion but what there is no question about is that is a different type of trauma and a different type of scar. Or think about the patient in the asylum whose name I am too lazy to look up - her life is such a theater of horrors that to me, it makes the combined issues of HY and XQC seem small, though once again that’s subjective. Nobody wins when people start this sort of competition.

My heart breaks for XQC but also - I am sorry - if/when HY x XQC hook up again (how? I have no idea! But that is one of the joys of Meatbun - I both have no idea how/where it’s going and utterly trust her), please have He Yu read up and learn things because Good God. You should not be in major pain the morning after unless you are into pain and XQC clearly is not!

The other thing is the bit about XQC forcing himself to walk in his usual ramrod-straight manner is the moment I went utterly gone for him. I mean, I liked him and found him interesting before. But this is the thing that flipped that invisible switch for me and I went rabid and irrational and now I am Team XQC and I don’t care what he wants and does from now on, he should have it. It’s so small but so real. My mother and her mother were both big on straight posture. And one of the reasons they gave was when you walk with good posture - you look confident but also it makes you feel confident and stronger. And I’ve actually found it to be true - when you throw your shoulders back and straighten your neck and hold your head up, it does not just give others a signal, it gives a signal to your own brain. So to see XQC insist on doing it, despite being emotionally and physically shattered - because of his pride refusing to give up, because he’s so unbending, but also this being some sort of instinctive armor, just hits straight through the heart.

OK, I laughed at HY as a fucking machine. But also, this is another point in the whole “everyone has issues” narrative and HY’s life could be worse. HY, with all his other issues, can pay an insane amount, an amount that XQC could not pay in a million years, so easily. It’s not even a blip to him. Hell, the fact that he forgot to pay speaks to that - I can see forgetting to pay a friend a couple of bucks back right away because it’s not much money. HY forgets because it does not loom in his mind. And this rich lifestyle is instinctive, is ingrained in him. I think he’d find it hard to be poor.

THAT is what he’s thinking about? Priorities are...

The sole good thing that came out of this insanity is that XQC is getting in touch with his emotions, even if those emotions are (rightly) rage. He’s too closed off from them normally.

The fact that you slept with a man should be secondary to the fact that you drugged and raped him, but here we are...

To me, this sums up He Yu as a moral wasteland. To still, when sober and past his fit and not under influence of wine, to still feel excitement over his revenge and to somehow twist it that it’s XQC’s fault for being raped by He Yu is !!!!!!!!!

(I suppose if I were charitable, I’d assume that the disquiet is small stirrings of almost dead conscience and his “he deserved it” is an attempt to justify the unjustifiable to himself, but I honestly don’t want to think so because I am so angry at him. Not until I see some more evidence. I don’t feel like being indulgent with He Yu since he’s indulgent with himself enough for two.)

1. The fact that you can tell from the picture XQC got taken by a man (I am gonna defer to Meatbun’s expertise here) definitely points to the fact that the pictures are going to be used for something bad later - because if it’s just oh XQC had sex, so what, he’s single what’s the big deal. But like this it becomes a different matter. No idea if it will be used for HY or XQC or both, and by whom (money is on Duan and co, but after the way HY went off, I would never say HY himself won’t use it badly somehow) but knowing Meatbun, it will go for maximum damage.

2. Ruthless? Perhaps. Unfeeling? Hmmmm. I am not He Yu’s biggest fan atm but that’s a wonderfully misleading adjective here. He does still seem to be in shock. And fixating.

3. The whole “hahahaha XQC is a hypocrite when he was all ‘I am not interested in sex’“ is - I am not sure if HY is just short-circuiting (fine) or using a rapist justification/rolling in a sea of toxic toxicity (not fine) because I am sorry, that’s totally like “he/she had a reaction, can’t be rape” writ large. Yeah, sure he had a reaction - you poured drugs down his throat. That has nothing to do with his default preferences or his actual state. THE FUCK?!

Anyway, we end on the whole “u mad bro?” bit and you know what strikes me? HY was all “I am done, we are done, my revenge is complete I don’t care” but here he is, still desperately seeking and craving reaction and interaction from XQC.

I remain utterly puzzled as to how these two will ever be a couple except for a couple being defined as “two mutually homicidal people.” Leaving aside everything else, I am willing to accept HY is in the closet - clearly whatever his orientation is, it includes men. But I do not get that sense from XQC at all. When he’s not drugged, he’s barely interested in sex with anyone and I do not get the sense he’s in the closet either. Chances of anyone, let alone He Yu, who is both a man and someone who raped him to humiliate him, being able to entice him into sexual encounters voluntarily is about the chance of me going to visit Mars. Meatbun loves doing insane things so I can’t wait.

PS I know people use the term psychopath all the time casually but ummm, I think He Yu may actually be one? When he has his father (!!!) on speakerphone, calmly carrying a conversation with the man as he’s raping his father’s friend in the club as he talks (!!!!!) that is...in RL I’d be “team lock him up for life, there is something so basic broken in him that it can’t be fixed.” Like - the hell? The ability to put things on different shelves so much is not in the same country as sane (it makes me think of 2ha and TXJ banging CWN being the curtain while performing court business but TXJ was bona fide clinically insane and also this is worse because this is his actual freaking father omg.) Of course, only time will tell whether it’s evidence of him being irreparably incapable of normalcy in terms of living in the world/interacting with others or it was an extreme psychotic (in casual parlance not medical one) break because most people are capable of truly horrific stuff if certain levers are pushed and his default is saner. It’s the question, isn’t it? Whether He Yu’s factory default setting is the monster of the previous chapters or the kid who’d cut his wrists so as not to hurt others.

Anyway, this novel is a terrifying roller coaster ride and I love having strong emotions.