#in the middle of it i did go “oh what if hes hiding a scar behind his hair” tho so I tacked on that doodle

[wackpedion]

I wasn't planning on posting these doodles but someone reblogged my last post about angst going crazy, and so I thought well if theres a demand for it I might as well

[crispy-armpit]

✧ 𝒊 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕 ✧

yandere secret agent x reader

‧₊˚ ⋅ ‧ 🍸₊˚ ⋆｡ 𖦹 °

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: after taking on your friend's offer to head downtown to a hidden bar, you find yourself in the middle of a covert operation. thankfully Messiah is there to hide you from danger. or did he just push you right into it?

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: gn reader, yandere, suggestive position & situation, slight violence, reader held at gunpoint, mentions of a firearm and getting shot, reader pressed against male crotch, sadism(?), auditory hallucination (you hear voices), hair pulling, swearing

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,153 words

⭒ a/n: it was my birthday last month and i had planned to post this by then but ofc i never learn my lesson and kept my drafts in tumblr (leading to it getting deleted) 😭!! so sorry for the wait everyone and happy late new years! :D hope u like the batman wannabe.. it goes from 0 to 100 rq because it's hilarious to me and i'm sleep deprived.. i can smell the hate comments already

will you venture down this path?

it was supposed to be another weekend night spent alone in your home; you, comfortably snuggling against your pillows while playing your favourite brain-rot game from night to morning.

but here you were— unfortunately not in your bed, and devastatingly not romancing your fictional game characters. your friend, Vern, had dragged convinced you to join him and try out some random jazz bar which recently opened.

he mentioned his band would be playing there... he's probably just trying to get more people to hype up his band.

the warm ambience of the bistro & bar, alongside the joyous laughter ringing all over the room, people bantering and simply enjoying each other's presence was enough to erase the thoughts of your usual weekend plans. it was the type of place where you couldn't bring up any negative emotions just because of how chill everyone and everything was. so that's one forgiveness point to your friend.

at some point, Vern had split off from you to meet up with the other Ares band members to go perform— leaving you to drink away your life at the bar.

you channeled your best resting bitch face to avoid any strangers trying to hit on you, which worked. you sat alone listening to the blue voice of the current performer, making small talk here and there with the bartender.

oh, the bartender—

you'd been eyeing him up all night.

he was the only other person at the bar. like all other bartenders, he was charismatic and attractive despite the two deep scars running down his left cheek.

maybe he noticed you looking at it, because he suddenly rasped out, "...animal attack" with a nonchalant smile. which is quite impressive, since your gaze never once lingered on the scars for too long. he must be observing me.

Logan (you read his name tag) was an exceptional conversationist. and he played the bartender role extremely well. he brought up topics like your ambitions, your dreams, and even your darkest passions effortlessly.

but his eyes never seemed to really focus on your figure when you talked.

it was always off to a specific direction in the distance. and when you turned to look at what he was looking at, there would only be the same wrinkly old man sitting on the sofa chair.

"can you see it?"

confused, you reply, "see what?"

do you see it? the eyes? his lack of mouth? with hair as white as his, and skin as dark as void, how can you not see me?

"what the hell are you sayi—" you grow pale when you turn back and see Logan had his back turned away from you the whole time, far from the counter.

who was talking to me?

and for the first time in 3 hours since you've arrived, the old man from the chair moves. he wanders aimlessly for a moment until setting his sights on the bar. multiple random people who were loitering in the room take notice of his sudden movement, and all briskly walk towards him.

you're petrified.

the world is spinning, people are blocking the old man's path from you. and you're so thankful for that because it gives you the time to be pulled on top of the bar counter and then underneath it by a pair of strong hands.

your consciousness recovers and you're met with Logan, body crouched down to your level. his shadowed face shows no semblance of the bright man you were talking to a while ago. now his own icy blue eyes pierced through yours, and the once attractive rasp of his voice is now chilling to the bone.

"Logan—"

"you better fucking shut up unless you want to die."

he pulls out a revolver and points it to your forehead.

profusely nodding your head in understanding, tears begin to prick your eyes; this is so fucking messed up, what is happening??

your brain tells you that this was just the alcohol getting to you, and maybe Logan has some kind of split personality and a murderer... that it's some kind of sick prank Vern is probably pulling on you. maybe my drink got spiked...

but your gut tells you that you are in great danger. alcohol has never made you experience that level of auditory hallucination... hell, you were probably being delusional right now— of course Logan's trying to kill you!!

you could hear the faint sounds of bodies thudding against other people as if they were thrown or pushed. but no screams, just grunts. the loudness of the approaching footsteps came to a halt in front of the counter.

you cover your cries as best as you can with your palms and with Logan's hidden weapon still pointed at you. you could so easily whack it away or dodge it. but you stop once you hear the most grotesque voice ever, the result of what sounded like flesh tearing apart and bones reconstructing.

"where... are... they.....?"

you are faced with two decisions:

scream for help and get shot in the head by Logan

scream for help and face whatever the fuck is out there

either way, you don't get to choose. because the stress of the situation is beginning to overwhelm you and soon your whimpers slip out a little. small enough to not be heard from in front of the counter, but big enough for whoever is on top of you— and that someone happened to be the psychopathic bartender.

you freeze.

but your strength alone is not enough to hold back against the veiny hands that grab the back of your hair and push you against the bulge of the man standing in front of you.

you push and thrash over his grasp, but your actions only lead to him digging the lower parts of your face further into his crotch. WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING??? IS HE TRYING TO SILENCE ME WITH HIS DICK?!

and it works...

you stay silent and limp, not because of fear. but because of the absurdity of this situation and the slow growth of whatever beast is hiding under those black waiter pants.

the heat of your muffled breath against his privates collects in your face, it's getting too much but you hold yourself together. your hands that were once pushing him off now lay on the top of his hardened thighs.

Logan shares a couple words with the old man before pointing him elsewhere. you catch a strange name falling off the old man's lips, Messiah. fuck, is this a cult? shortly afterwards, you hear the light sounds of evacuating feet. he's finally gone.

and with the speed of a middle-aged lady during black friday sales, you manage to push him off to the side and stand up across him, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

you were humiliated, violated, mentally tired and— and—

why the fuck is he blushing.

[fatuismooches]

Imagine Arlecchino being worried that her lover would be put off by her blackened hands, but then they just yank off any gloves Arlecchino might wear to hide them, and kisses her hands to assure her that they love them.

It had come to your attention that Arlecchino only wore gloves in your presence.

It was an average day, and you were at the orphanage again. The kids there liked when you went over to play with them. Today, you were reading them a story, a fairy tale that ended with the two characters falling in love. Soon enough, the children were asking non-filtered questions about if your relationship with Arlecchino was similar.

"Yes yes, Arlecchino and I are in a romantic relationship," you quickly eased their concerns, a bit embarrassed to be speaking about this.

"Is that why she smiles around you? She never does that," a child tilted their head at you.

"Well, sometimes love can make you do funny things. It brings unexpectedness into your life."

"She even dresses differently around you. That is a funny thing," another kid piped up and you looked at him curiously.

"What do you mean?"

"Father always wears gloves around you!" You raised your eyebrows, still unable to see why that was strange.

"So? She always wears gloves."

"That's not true," he shook his head. "Father never wears them around us, or the other Fatui, or around anyone else. She always wears them around you though." Your brain had a hard time processing this information, but you knew it was true since a bunch of kids wouldn't lie to you about something like this.

A lot of Fatui wore gloves, it was useful for the kind of dirty work they did, so you didn't think it was strange when Arlecchino wore gloves. But now you were incredibly confused and intrigued at why she felt the need to cover up her hands. And kind of stupid that you never noticed until now.

"Well, what do her hands look like without the gloves?" you questioned.

"Her hands are-" Before the child could finish, the familiar click-clack of heels echoed throughout the room. Immediately the children straightened up and quieted down at the sight of Arlecchino, and even your heart hammered a bit from the anticipation of the kid's answer.

"Good afternoon, Father," all the kids spoke at once, showing their respect, and she simply nodded her head at them. Her attention was mainly focused on you.

"I see you've been keeping them occupied, [Name]. Thank you." You smiled at your lover. Regardless of the whole glove situation, you were still happy to see her. "Would you care to join me for a walk now? I have just a bit of spare time," she held her hand out for you to take.

"Of course, Arlecchino. I'd love to," you placed your hand on her gloved one, the mere touch of it making you wonder once again what was under the fabric.

She intertwined her fingers with you. Gloved ones. And now more than ever you wanted to hold her bare hands, no gloves getting in the way of the skin-to-skin contact. You'd have to wait until the two of you were home and alone, however.

—

Thankfully it was one of the rare days when the two of you could have the luxury of falling asleep with each other. Even hours later, your mind raced with possibilities as to what she hid under those gloves. Scars? Burns? No matter what, you'd still love her. She was so beautiful to you regardless. But it seemed that you weren't so good at hiding your emotions on your face.

"[Name], are you alright?" you nearly jumped at Arlecchino's voice, not noticing her next to you.

"Oh! Well, I-, it's nothing really-" You glanced up at her face and you already knew that she wasn't going to buy that excuse. "Okay, fine... the truth is, I think we need to... talk." At that, the Knave was on guard, immediately needing to know what troubled her beloved.

"Tell me what plagues you, and I shall have it taken care of immediately," her eyes narrowed at you, fully intent on solving whatever issue this is, even if she had to... teach someone a lesson, right now, in the middle of the night.

You took a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself. "We need to talk about us."

"Us?" The Harbinger echoed. She was not expecting that. You nodded, and you reached for her two gloved hands, holding them in front of you two.

"This is..." you were unsure of how to voice your thoughts regarding the gloves. Your fingertips danced to the cloth around her own fingers, gently grasping it and-

You had barely been able to tug the long glove a little teensy down when Arlecchino swiftly grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements.

"What are you doing?" For how serious her voice sounded, you swore you could hear it waver for a split second.

"Arlecchino, I-I know you only wear gloves around me. I don't understand why... you know you do not need to hide yourself around me, right?"

Arlecchino closed her eyes, knowing that the jig was up, and appeared to think. "You may not like what you see. You may consider it... unattractive." Your heart broke a little bit.

"Oh Arlie," you sighed. "I would never think that, not ever. No matter what your hands may look like, I can assure you that I'll love them wholly, just like I do for the rest of you." She did not respond other than her thumb slowly rubbing circles on your entrapped palm.

"Please, may I see them? As your lover, the one you said has the sole privilege of seeing every part of you?" You reminded her tenderly. She opened her eyes once again, the ones everyone found terrifying but you loved.

"As you wish." She let go of the grip on your wrist and you were free to pull it off. And you did, in one fell swoop the glove fluttered to the floor. There laid Arlecchino's completely blackened hand, adorned with darker patterns and beautifully manicured nails.

Well, you certainly weren't expecting that. Arlecchino carefully gauged your expression, looking for any signs of repulse or discomfort. For once, she was worried if she had made a mistake, if you would be put off by her hands. But she didn't need to worry, as you found her hands completely alluring.

Without hesitation, you placed a kiss on the top of her hand, making Arlecchino stiffen at the sudden affection. But you did not stop there of course. You had a lot of area left to cover. Your kisses reached up past her elbow as your hand was loosely linked with hers, fingers massaging her palm. It was unexpectedly smooth.

"Your hands are so pretty. I don't see why you would ever hide them from me," you stated honestly. The other glove on her other hand received the same treatment - yanked off and discarded, and soon a victim to your ceaseless kisses, peppered up and down her arm. Arlecchino did not move or speak while you did this, her eyes remained trained on you like a hawk, taking in your every move. Taking in every motion of your lip, drinking in the passion in your eyes as you boldly looked at her as you continued your dauntless display of affection.

After your little stunt, you pulled away for a quick breather, but Arlecchino being Arlecchino, had to regain dominance of the situation again, and she briskly caught your chin with her hands, the one you daringly made your stake on. Before you could speak, she hungrily kissed you, her free hand pushing you down on the bed. She kissed you again and again, determined to make you feel the same things she just felt, her hand running up and down your arm. By the end of it, you were panting, but you felt triumphant. It was hard to change Arlecchino's mind, but you did it anyway.

"It seems like I've successfully proved that you're hands are quite lovely to me," you mentioned breathlessly.

"It seems you have," Arlecchino agreed with you, her usually blank expression had a sliver of softness, her thumb running over your lip. "Thank you." You smiled and gently grasped her wrist.

"So, no more gloves, right?" You asked teasingly. Arlecchino sighed at your tone but a small smile adorned her face as she kissed you once more.

"No more gloves, [Name]."

[bettercallwillow]

pairing: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

summary: when you discover sirius hiding out in the shrieking shack, he and remus make sure you don’t say a word

warnings: dark!wolfstar, older!wolfstar, dub-con/cnc, smut, dom!remus, dom!sirius, rough sex, degrading, oral (m recieving), fingering, penetration, spitroasting

note: happy halloween! this is probably the darkest and filthiest thing i’ve written but i’ve been gone for a while so i might aswell come back with a bang. the ending is slightly rushed so i hope you don’t mind, enjoy!! (also if anybody’s confused about the plot, basically sirius actually did the crimes that he was accused of and remus is helping him while he’s on the run, so kinda deatheater!wolfstar)

Ever since you discovered the passageway that led from the whomping willow to the shrieking shack, you had been hiding out in the dilapidated building to escape the stress of your final exams. With some candlelight and a cozy blanket, it wasn’t half bad.

It had been a rather stressful day when you snook out to the tree, double potions with Snape was never fun. You had been looking forward to the peace and quiet, opting to bring a book with you to pass the time.

However, when you made it to the end of the passageway and pushed open the door, you were quite shocked when your eyes landed on two figures conversing in the middle of the room.

You didn’t recognise them at first. but when one of them lit a cigarette, the flame lit up their face and your eyes widened- it was Sirius Black. The escaped murderer.

A squeak left your mouth and his head turned to look at you, a smirk playing on his lips when he saw you, “Well, well,” he chuckled, “Look who just stumbled in, Moony,”

You were left in even more shock when the other figure turned to look at you, the scars running across his face making him immediately recognisable. It was Professor Lupin.

“What a pretty little plaything,” Remus spoke, snatching the cigarette from Sirius’ lips and taking a puff, “Why don’t you go fetch her, Pads? I want a closer look,”

You turned to leave, your heart pounding, but Sirius was too quick. His hand grabbed your wrist within seconds and he pulled you towards Lupin, his fingernails digging into your flesh slightly.

“Oh, yeah, I know this one,” Lupin looked you up and down, his pupils blown wide, “Smart little student, a slut too- always wearing her skirts short,”

“I can tell, I can practically see her ass,” Sirius landed a slap on your ass, making you yelp and tears form in your eyes.

“Please, let me go, I won’t tell anybody I saw you,” you whimpered, desperately trying to pull your arm from Sirius’ grasp.

The longer-haired man tutted, pulling you towards him so your back was pressed against his chest, “Now that won’t do, darling, we gotta make sure you don’t say a fucking word,”

“W-What are you gonna do to me?” you felt tears begin to fall down your cheeks and you were certain you were shaking now. You had always assumed Professor Lupin was nice, clearly it was an all act.

“I think we show you what happens when you walk around in those short fucking skirts,” Remus spat, standing up from his sitting position, “Think you can take two cocks, princess?”

“Please don’t,” you shook your head, grimacing when you felt Sirius’ hardening cock rub against your ass through his trousers.

“Stupid thing, you should know by now that you don’t have a choice,” Sirius chuckled. Then suddenly, he pushed on your back, forcing you into a position where your ass was stuck out.

You grabbed onto Remus’ legs for support, leaving your face planted directly in front of his already hard buldge, “Good slut, already know what you need to do,” he stroked your hair, a whimper leaving your lips.

Lupin moved his hands down to his belt, working on unbuckling it as Sirius’ hands groped your ass. As much as you hated to admit, you were getting turned on. In any other situation, you wouldn’t have thought twice about sleeping with Lupin.

“The slut’s getting wet,” Sirius noted the growing patch forming on your panties, a blush settling on your cheeks when he pointed it out. He dragged a tattooed hand against your clothed cunt and you let out a gasp, your hips instinctively leaning towards the touch.

Your body was betraying you, craving more friction as your clit began to throb. By now, Remus had pulled down his trousers to mid-thigh, along with his boxers, leaving his leaking cock just inches away from your face, “Well? You just gonna stare or are you gonna do what dumb whores like you are made to do?” he scoffed.

Your mouth fell open and he hummed in approval, taking his cock by the base in one hand and placing the tip on your tongue. The taste of pre-cum soaked into your tastebuds and you moaned, surprising everyone in the room.

“Oh does the slut like the taste of m’cock?” Remus grinned, wrapping a hand in your hair and pushing a few more inches of his length into your mouth. At the same time, Sirius pushed your panties to the side and plunged two fingers into your dripping hole, forcing a loud moan from your lungs.

The vibrations ran down Remus and he groaned, pushing all of his cock into your throat so your nose was brushing against the hairs on his pubic bone. “Fuck, she’s tight,” Sirius chimed, curling his fingers upward and hitting your sweet spot perfectly.

“M’surprised, you should hear some of the- fuck- rumours about her,” Remus chuckled, pulling out so just the tip of his cock was in before pushing back in, making you swallow around him to avoid gagging.

Sirius set a harsh pace with his fingers as Remus started to fuck your face, the lycanthrope’s grip on your hair tight as he rutted into you. You were a moaning mess due to Sirius, the cock in your mouth making you drool down your chin.

“She’s already fucked dumb,” Remus observed your face, his brows furrowed and his lips upturned in a slight smirk, “God knows how she’s gonna- fuck- take your cock soon,”

“I better hurry up then,” the longer-haired man pulled out his fingers and you let out a whine, only to earn a harsh smack on your ass, “Fucking whore, take what I give you,”

Within moments, Sirius had rid himself of his trousers and boxers, his cock making a soft slapping noise as it sprung up and hit his lower abdomen, “Can’t fucking wait to be buried in this cunt,” he groaned, stroking his erection as his eyes settled on your throbbing hole.

You mewled, deciding that resisting him would cause more trouble, and arched your back further. A sound of satisfaction rolled of the man’s tongue and he positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance, eager to fill you to the brim.

As Remus pushed his length into your mouth, Sirius did the same with your cunt, forcing a loud moan from you. It burnt as first, you hadn’t expected the longer-haired man to be so fucking big, but as time passed the pain turned into pure pleasure.

It wasn’t long before Sirius set a brutal pace, hard and fast, his thrusts matching those of Remus. It was overwhelming, the feeling of two cocks using your body as if you were nothing but a mere sextoy.

“Just as I said, so fucking tight,” Sirius moaned, his hands grabbing onto your hips hard enough that his fingernails left crescent-shaped marks on your skin, “When you’re done with her mouth, Moony, you gotta try this cunt,”

“You read my mind,” Remus grinned, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reached his high, “Fuck- m’gonna cum, fill your slutty throat with my seed,”

You were actually quite eager to taste him, all previous doubts thrown out of the window as the pleasure became too strong, so you did your best- suctioning your cheeks around his cock and trying your best to relax your throat.

Remus moaned loudly, pushing you down so his cock was lodged at the back of your throat as he came, ropes of seed shooting into your mouth. You moaned at the taste, immediately swallowing when the lycanthrope pulled out.

“Wow, you really a fucking whore, aren’t you?” Sirius chuckled, wrapping a hand in your hair and pulling you up so your back was pressed against his chest. With every snap of his hips, you felt like heaven, his cock managing to reach places inside you that you didn’t even know existed.

“Fuck, feels so good,” you mewled, pushing your hips back so you could feel him deeper.

“Yeah? You like it when Sirius wrecks your silly little guts?” Remus spoke, grabbing your chin in his hand and forcing you to look at him. You nodded, looking into his eyes with half-lidded ones, you mouth hung open in a constant moan.

“Words, slut,”

“Y-yeah,” you answered him, “I love it,”

Your body jolted as Sirius’ thrusts got harder, a familiar bubbling sensation settling in your lower abdomen, “M’close, please,”

“Wait for me, pup,” the animagus muttered in your ear, his grip on your waist getting tighter and he approached his own high. You nodded, screwing your eyes shut and biting your lip as you tried to your best to delay your orgasm.

“Good whore, doing what she’s told,” Remus praised you, stroking your cheek. You leant into his touch, moans and whimpers rolling off your tongue.

“Shit, gonna cum,” Sirius groaned, a hand reaching round to rub circles on your clit, “C’mon, pup, cum for me, soak my cock,”

You did as you were told, practically screaming in pleasure as you gushed around Sirius’ length, your cunt clenching tight, “Fuck!”

“Fucking hell, pup,” Sirius moaned, the feeling of your walls throbbing around his cock sent him over the edge and his hips stilled as he spilled inside you, filling you the brim with his cum.

A sigh left your mouth when he pulled out and you felt your knees wobble. If it wasn’t for both men holding you up, you would have fell to the floor, “Wow..”

“We’re not done yet, dove,” Remus chuckled, fisting at his already hard cock, “You gonna bend over nice and pretty for me and let me fill you up?”

[munsonkitten]

Eddie locks his ankles behind Steve’s back, thighs squeezing his sides, and holds him there.

“Stay inside,” Eddie whispers.

“Okay,” Steve breathes, shaking but easy. So soft and so sweet.

He’s still shaking, just resting against Eddie as they try to breathe together.

“You okay, Harrington?” Eddie whispers. He runs his hands up and down Steve’s sides, over the scars that match Eddie’s.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Steve whispers, muffled into Eddie’s collar bone.

Eddie’s hands still, he freezes. Still blanketed under Steve’s trembling body, Eddie takes a deep, shaking breath.

“Pussy was that good, huh?” he jokes. Because there’s no way Steve meant that. There’s no way he even said it, nah, Eddie’s just hearing things.

Hearing things he wants to hear.

“No,” Steve says. He lifts his head. “I mean, yeah. Your pussy’s great, man, but no, that’s not — I just had to tell you, okay? It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, but you know, I have to be honest because we just… did all that, and it would be wrong for me to not tell you.”

“After we—” Eddie starts, but then all the words catch right up to his brain and he pulls Steve in for another kiss, so heated and full of all the words Eddie wants to say back.

Steve’s still inside him, still covering him with his body. It’s so hot in the room, and Eddie feels gross, but none of that matters because Eddie may feel gross, but he’s loved. Loved in a way he never has been, and that’s—

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie laughs. He thinks he might start to cry, thinks he might be already. “I mean, hell, I think I’ve been in love with you since, like, middle school, so there’s that.”

“You didn’t even know me,” Steve points out.

“Didn’t need to. Knew you were pretty,” Eddie whispers, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “What about you? When did this revelation hit you?”

“At Reefer Rick’s,” Steve answers immediately.

“Oh yeah? Which time?”

“The first time, man. When you had that bottle pressed to my throat. Fuck, all I could think was that you were wild. Wild, but scared, man. Like an animal that shouldn’t be caged, I don’t know.”

“What the fuck, Steve? You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this the whole time?” Eddie jokes.

Steve shrugs. “Didn’t wanna scare you off. You, uh, you’re doing better now, than you were then, and even just, a few weeks ago, you know? And if I would’ve—”

“I would’ve ran,” Eddie realizes.

Steve shrugs. “I would’ve waited longer, you know. Just, you were lying there in nothing but a pair of fucking cut off shorts, squirming, man. You were squirming and whining, and fuck, you would’ve seen how hard I was if I didn’t say something first to beat you to the punch.”

Eddie laughs. “Can’t believe I got you that worked up.”

“You’re a fucking dream, Eddie Munson,” Steve says. “And I don’t wanna wake up from this one.”

And it’s fucking cheesy, it’s so fucking cheesy, but Eddie finds himself smiling, his grin overtaking his whole face. He can’t stop it, can’t contain it, doesn’t fucking want to.

“You sure know how to sweep a guy off his feet,” Eddie teases.

“Did that actually work?” Steve asks, his grin matching Eddie’s.

“Consider me swept, Harrington,” Eddie says with a wink. “My feet are thoroughly off the ground.”

Steve kisses him again, and he moves them, slipping out of Eddie’s messy cunt, but not letting him go, not going far. He grabs the joint and the lighter off Eddie’s nightstand and lights it up again, taking a hit before passing it over to Eddie. They lay on their sides facing each other, Steve’s arm slung over Eddie’s waist.

“Hoping to get me horny again?” Eddie asks as he brings the joint to his lips.

Steve laughs, ducking his head to hide himself in Eddie’s neck. “I’m hoping I’d get a second round without it, but hey, if it works, it works.”

“Don’t worry, baby, you can have as many rounds as you want,” Eddie promises.

Something has definitely changed between them, but strangely, as Eddie lays in his bed beside Steve, smoking the rest of the joint they were working through earlier, it feels like nothing’s changed at all. They’ve been in love with each other this whole time, been living in each other’s pockets for the entire summer. Steve’s seen Eddie naked before, he’s helped him bathe, helped him change his bandages, helped him brush his hair, and makes sure he’s eating.

All these acts of kindness have never been because they’re just friends, and Eddie knows that now, and he thinks he knew that before, too. He kisses the top of Steve’s head, noses against his sweat damp hair, and holds him closer.

Soon they’ll have to get up and clean up, to wash away the evidence of what they just did, and they’ll get in the shower together, not for the first time, but for the first time when they both know what it means, and Eddie will hold Steve close, and he’ll ask Steve to call him angel and sweet boy, and—

They’ll clean up later.

Now, though, he whispers a quiet, “Yeah, I love you,” and holds him tight, and hears the same three words whispered back.

excerpt from strange as angels on ao3

[spacebaby1]

Only mine (2)

"You can sleep here, I'll fix it up to your liking from tomorrow," You stood inside the huge bedroom that was mostly empty but had a bed in the middle with few boxes to the side of the room; your own room. "My room's down the hallway, that door. If you need anything, tell me, hum?" You nodded in response, "alright, sleep now." With that, he left closing the door behind him while you stood in the middle of the room. Sleep didn't come easy to you; every time you'd shut your eyes, you only saw blood and immediately sat on the bed.

You felt uneasy and alone; the darkness in the room made you uncomfortable, so you kept the lamp on. The bed was too comfortable and you weren't used to it, usually you were forced to sleep on cold ground and it's what you got used to. Getting up from the bed, you laid down on the floor, shutting your eyes and immediately falling asleep.

Around four in the morning, Sanzu got up for his morning workout, and as he was walking down the hallway, he stopped to check on you for a minute. Slowly, he opened the door, his heart almost dropped when he noticed the bed empty and you weren't there. He entered the room quickly but stopped when he saw you sleeping on the floor near the bed without the pillow or blanket, sleeping on the cold floor.

He wondered if you fell from the bed, Carefully he made his way towards you and just when he reached to pick you off the floor you flinched at the sudden contact of his warm hands and as soon as you saw him leaned beside you. You jumped sitting and backed away from him, your back slammed on the wall breathing heavily, "Hey, it's just me. You were sleeping on the floor." He reached for your hand, but you flinched away. He sighed, getting up and turning the light on before walking back to you. He leaned down a bit closer to you, "it's me, did I startled you?" He forwarded his hand one more time. You noticed the scars in his hand that looked like they healed a long time ago, "Hmm?" He hummed, waiting for you to grab his hand, which you did, and he noticed how tired you looked. He just sat there with you holding his hand and tilted his head, "Why were you on the floor?" You looked down, "the beds are uncomfortable?" You shook your head, "you fell?" Again, you shook your head. He gave your hand a squeeze, making you look at him; he had a soft smile on his face before he dragged you by the hand gently closer to him until you sat right in front of him. Sanzu placed a hand on your head, "you're used to sleeping on the floor?" You nodded, fidgeting with your fingers, and he noticed you'd do that every time he talked to you. "Now now, don't worry about anything like I said. I'll take care of you. You shouldn't sleep on the floor it will hurt your back and head. Try to sleep, okay? It's still early." He got up and helped you stand before making you lay on the bed and caressing your hair with a soft smile; this wasn't the same man who killed your father at all, he acted differently towards you.

You tried too hard to sleep after he left and just couldn't go back to sleep, so you tiptoe where he went downstairs. You heard sounds of other men talking as you stood behind the door, trying to take a peek. It was a house gym; Sanzu was training with his katana while three other men were there training. You recognised one of them; kakucho from the elevator. He was talking to a long, purple haired man standing next to him, a much taller man with the same purple hair but short ones. Kakucho noticed you peeking and immediately smiled, "Oh, it's you!" You gasped when he called out, making the other men and Sanzu turn their heads towards the door. Sanzu quickly placed his katana away and reached you before Kakucho did with a huge smile on his face he spoke, "I remember you! I saw you yesterday with Haru!" Sanzu placed his hand over your shoulder as you held on his side, desperately trying to hide away. "Oh, who's this beautiful girl?" Ran made his way towards you. Rindou followed behind them, "Why she's acting like we're gonna bite?" You looked at the three men then back at Sanzu, to which he nodded down at you. Kakucho smiled softly at you, forwarded his hand for you to shake, "and you are?" You shook his hand, "y/n, " you replied, and this was the first time even Sanzu heard your voice. "Aww! She speaks!" Ran jumped in the conversation, pushing Kakucho away and grabbing your hand, shaking it up and down rapidly, "I'm Ran Haitani, but you can call me Roro." You giggled at his nickname, and Sanzu was dumbfounded; did you just giggle? "And that's my baby brother, Rindou." Ran placed a hand on your head before removing it and looking at Sanzu, "where did you get yourself a cutie like her!" Sanzu groaned, grabbing your hand and walking out of the gym and towards the living-room couch, "Wanna wait here? I'll be done with the workout soon, okay?" You nodded.

"Good girl." He smiled before walking back to the gym room.

[skeletinmoss]

Ruffled feathers

Chapter 2: The avian's nest

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Ships planned: Prinxiety, Logicality, Dukeciet

Patton and Virgil are brothers in this one

Thanks @lovelivingmydreams for being my beta

Virgil wasn't sick for too long. And after speaking with Emile he was much easier to deal with. He still hissed at anyone who got close to him though, even his brother. He hated being vulnerable and certainly didn't want to be treated like a baby.

« Being sick sucks,» he decided observing his brother's work from the height of the tree.

« Is that so? You must be glad it's over then,» Patton briefly looked up from his creation and quickly returned to gathering. It didn't look like much yet, but it began to look like a circle. Virgil huffed from his observation point.

« Are you making a nest?» he asked confused. « You think it's safe enough here?» he already knew the humans were going to freak out about it.

Avians made nests for two reasons: they either felt really safe or really stressed. In particularly bad situations avians made so-called panic nests. It was usually a couple of twigs and leaves, or, as they both did, from anything they found at hand (one time Patton made it out of cutlery). Panic nests looked rightfully awful and the word 'nest' mostly meant it was kinda circular pile of things.

What Patton was making looked nothing like that. It was going to be a proper nest about two meters wide judging by the lines Pat drew on the floor. This meant he wanted to make this his sleeping place. And he even did it in the open where everyone else could see.

« It's mostly so we can get more comfortable,» he blushed looking for the sticks he could use. His brother growled in disapproval, « You don't even have anything soft for it.»

« Yes, I do! I have moss!» he pointed at the floor, «And our wings will start to molt soon.»

« Eh. A so-so nest. Not sleeping in the mossy bed,» Virgil hopped on the ground and strolled past the construction.

« You sleep on the floor!» Patton argued.

« Yeah. And that's why I'm not making a bed out of it,» bit the black avian before disappearing behind the door.

Bathroom was Virgil's favorite place. It was warm and shiny. And oh boy did he love the shiny stuff! He made a mental note if ever going to build a nest he will steal that bigass mirror.

He started at it for a minute. There was a scar on his nose left from a muzzle, two more on his hands from the handcuffs and one on his neck from the electric collar. They looked kind of badass, but held dark memories. He looked skinny, but not as bad as before. A proper feeding could do wonders, and he hoped that he could get his muscles back too. He was sick of being weak.

He took off the hoodie, struggling a bit to get it off the wings. Pants went down next, and he plopped into the warm water face first. Wings, still dry, held him him on the surface of the water as he did little to no movement, drifting in the middle of the pool. He tilted his head just enough for him to breathe and relaxed.

It looked like a corpse. And it scared Roman half to death. He sprinted out of the door, through the hallway, past the confused Logan, past the not so confused Janus, into the enclosure and into the bathroom. But before he could pick the body up, it moved disturbed by the sound of splashing water. He did however drag the avian out of the water.

The rescued was not pleased with it and declared so with a strong bite. Roman however was reliеved, « You can't just drown yourself!»

Moody stuck his tongue out.

Roman frowned at his bratty patient. «You looked dead! Did you think that wouldn’t make us worried?»

The avian seemingly tasted the thought. He grabbed Roman by his shirt and walked back in the water, not even bothering to hide his naked body with his wings. He once again settled on the water's surface. His wings were now wet because of him jolting from Roman's touch, so he sank deeper than before. But his head was still afloat and Roman calmed down after he realized it was simply the way he relaxed. Moody squinted his eyes from the comfortable warmth and purred quietly.

« You're an absolute nightmare,» the rescuer huffed dramatically. He observed the avian a little intrigued. It's been a while since he was this close to him. Moody hadn't allowed himself to relax near anyone other than his brother and now he was swimming near him seemingly unbothered.

« Your wings look better,» Roman couldn't help himself but to comment. To his delight the avian in question blushed and started daggers at him. « What? It's true! We definitely need to thank our fawn friend for that thing he gave you,» he declared.

The actor pushed himself out of the water and sat on the edge. His clothes were soaking wet now, but it wasn't something that bothered him at the moment. He couldn't take his eyes of the beautiful feathers. Now looking at them he noticed how wobbly they looked. It wasn't just because of the water, they looked more messy when they should be. They were ungroomed. It would have been understandable if Moody was on his own, but he had a brother. Didn't they groom each other?

Now thinking about it he remembered what Logan told him. Right… Patton didn't have any claws, and his brother simply couldn't reach his back to do it on his own.

« Can I touch them?» he asked finally.

A hiss was the obvious answer.

« I can groom them, you know,» he tried to justify. There was a hesitation before the next hiss, a true master of pretending to not understand the language. Now Dark and Stormy moved further from Roman not quite interested in letting an untrusted creature near his wings. It made Roman frown.

He wasn't frustrated, no. He was angry actually, but not at the avian. Each time he tried to help, Virgil would hiss and try to get away. And it was all because of how he was treated before. It was infuriating! Who can do something bad to a creature this beautiful?! Or any other creature for that matter, not just the beautiful ones. It was so wrong and inhumane!

« I will make friends with you,» Roman half jokingly threatened, and had to go after another loud hiss.

Later, when Virgil finished his bath, he went out to now three people working on the nest. There was a couple of boxes with some soft materials like animal undercoat, feathers and cotton fiber. Patton was currently looking through the box with twigs, Logan helped making the base of the nest and Princey was mostly being a hype man and helping them both. Still in semi wet clothes.

« I told you I got soft stuff for it,» Virgil's brother pointed out smugly.

The black one huffed at that. « You mean THEY got it,» he argued.

Patton's wings shot up flustered, nearly hitting the nerd in the face. His darkwinged brother smirked and stuck out his tongue. There was a moment of silence between them until Patton stood up. Another moment. And then suddenly they both ran: Virgil for the trees and Patton after Virgil.

« Come here, you smart butt!» yelled Pat trying to catch his brother who climbed away as fast as he could giggling to himself.

Eventually they both reached the top and Virgil didn't have anywhere else to run. « No, stop! I'm sorry!» he laughed as his brother got him in a head lock and started to ruffle his hair.

The humans watched it with amazement. It was nice seeing the avians coming back to life. They probably didn't have much opportunities to have fun and banter like that in captivity. To think only two weeks prior they hadn't even talked in front of anyone.

« They are nice,» Patton said more quietly, releasing his brother from his hold. « Don't you want to talk to them?» he wondered.

Virgil took his time to respond, « What if they are still hiding something? Princey absolutely hates me. We're clearly doing something to upset them.»

« I don't think they are upset,» Patton replied. « Not at us at least. They give us nice food and we can move how much we want, they take care of us,» he brushed Virgil's hair.

Storm cloud sight and hugged his legs. « You can talk if you want to,» he relented. The smile on his brother's face lit up his soul.

« I'll ask them if we can go outside!» Patton suggested.

V shook his head at the helpless optimism. « Don't get your hopes up,» he warned, but Patton was already on his way down.

« Can we go outside?» this was the first official thing any of the avians said to their saviors in the human language. The conversation before it was short, but the older brother clearly allowed for it to happen. The whole team should have discussed this and given an answer later with all of the details figured out. But looking in those innocent blue eyes all Logan could say was « Yes, of course.»

Both birds got a little surprised at the answer.

« R-right now? Can we do that right now?» Patton's wings folded behind his back in anticipation. He tried to make himself presentable and obedient as if a little walk outside should be earned.

« If you won't fly away I don't see any reasons not letting you. Clear air is good for health, as people say. And our goal is your recovery.» Logan allowed and Prince nodded.

They should have discussed this with the team first. They should have predicted that something like this would happen.

Virgil tried to fly.

And he fell, of course. They couldn't have reacted in time. The avians were just walking and enjoying the grass and the trees, and the wind outside when the Black one suddenly started to climb higher with a surprising speed. His wings unfolded to their full size and a moment later he was in the air.

The landing was not as rough as it could have been if one of the humans just jumped of a tree. Wings still allowed for some gliding. But it was heartbreaking. Very heartbreaking. And Virgil showed just how much with the enraged scream that left him.

His brother slowly went up to him and hugged him.

They stayed like that for a while before going back into the enclosure.

Tag list: @aphandgflover @yourdragonwitchroyalty @warcats-cat @aevhee

Let me know if you want to be in the tags. Preferrebly in the post

[echo-goes-mmm]

Ambrose and Elliot #32

Masterpost

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Warnings: implied past non-con

Ambrose was really proud of Ellie.

He’d braved the bank, the trip went off without a hitch (mostly), and they were home safe without issue.

Ambrose watched Elliot wipe down the bar counter, his brow furrowed as he scrubbed at the wood. He worked so hard, and without complaint.

Without complaint…

Hm.

Ambrose finished his tea, and went to clean off his mug.

Elliot didn’t complain about anything. He kept to himself, and Ambrose only knew something was bothering him if Elliot couldn’t hide it anymore.

He’d seen some of Elliot’s scars. Elliot had told him very little about his… experiences, and Ambrose didn’t want to push, but what if he was still in pain?

Ambrose put the mug on the shelf. Elliot walked in, putting the dirty rag in the washing pile.

“Ellie?”

Elliot looked up at him, stilling. So… obedient.

“I think you should see a doctor.”

Elliot straightened, looking away and off to the side. “Did I do something wrong? I- I’m sorry, I’ll fix it.”

“No, no! It’s that we should make sure you’re healthy. I’m not a doctor- I mean, I can make some kinds of medicine and help with other things- but I could have missed something,” he explained.

Elliot bit his lip. “Okay.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ambrose added. “I’ll be there the whole time.”

Elliot took a deep breath. “Yes, sir,” he said, his voice cracking on the ‘sir’.

Ambrose rubbed the back of his neck. “We could.. wait a while, if you want. We don’t have to go today.”

Ellie glanced up at him. “I- I’ll go. Um, I’ll be good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

___________________

The doctor’s office was in the middle of town, and Elliot dutifully followed Ambrose down the street.

There was still gray slush on the cobblestone, and their boots crunched the wet snow. At least the sun was shining. He looked up from the street.

There weren’t many people out, much to his relief. It had been a busy week, and Elliot wanted all these errands over with. Master Ambrose didn’t seem to mind that he was shy, thank the gods, but he insisted on taking Elliot places now.

Maybe he wanted him to be more outgoing. Elliot wasn’t sure he could manage it.

The office looked more like a house, but the sign did say ‘doctor’ on it. Maybe the doctor was like Ambrose, and lived in the same building as his practice.

Master knocked on the door; using the brass knocker. Fancy.

Ambrose didn’t wait for a reply before opening the door. It made Elliot’s insides squirm.

They went inside, and the room was… normal. A couch, a couple of chairs. But there was a door separating it from the rest of the house, and this had to be a waiting area.

A woman came through the door, smiling, and she looked kind. Her black hair was poofy and pretty, and her dark brown eyes matched her dark brown skin.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice soft, and it reminded him of Ambrose.

“Hi,” he breathed out, and Ambrose smiled at him.

“Hello, Ruby,” he said. “Is Hannah busy?”

“She’s with a patient right now, but I could get Ben if it’s not serious. He’s almost finished with his training.”

“Oh, uh, we’ll wait for Hannah if that’s alright.”

“No worries,” she smiled, “she shouldn’t be long.” Ruby looked at Elliot, and he tried not to shrink under her gaze. “What’s your name? I don’t think we’ve met.”

“I’m Elliot,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.” Ambrose squeezed his hand in approval, and some of the tension trickled out of him.

“Likewise. I’ll let my wife know you’re here.”

Ruby disappeared behind the door again, and Ambrose sat on the couch, Elliot following his lead.

The doctor was a woman. 

Elliot let out a long breath, shuddering. She was a woman, and wouldn’t hurt him like a man would. Hopefully.

Master Ambrose looked relaxed and unbothered. If Master wasn’t worried, then maybe there was nothing to worry about.

___________________

It wasn’t long before Dr. Hannah was finished. The door opened again, and her patient, a pregnant woman, came out with her. They were laughing at some kind of joke, and Dr. Hannah bit her farewell before her eyes landed on them.

“Hello, Ambrose, and you must be Elliot. Ruby said you needed to see me today?”

“Elliot does,” explained Ambrose. “He needs a check-up.”

Elliot fidgeted as Hannah looked at him. “Alrighty, well come on back.”

He followed Ambrose and Hannah into the hall, and she ushered them into a side room.

The door closed quietly behind them, and Elliot scanned the room.

There were two chairs, and a shelf of equipment that he didn’t know what they did. One wall had measurements on it, and there was a scale nearby.

A cot took up the most space, and Elliot really didn’t want to get on it. But Ambrose would be watching, and he wouldn’t let anything bad happen, right?

Ambrose sat down as Hannah grabbed a clipboard.

“Take your shoes off, please.”

Elliot toed off his boots, and neatly put them aside.

Hannah guided him to stand against the measuring wall. “Stand up straight and even,” she said, “and think tall thoughts.”

Her pen came to rest at the top of his head, pushing down his hair. The doctor wrote down the number. 

“Good. Now if you could step on the scale for me.” Elliot got up on the little platform, and Hannah adjusted the weights until the bar was even.

“A little small, but that’s okay.”

“We’re working on it,” said Ambrose from the chair.

“And is that going well? Balanced diet?” Hannah asked, writing on her clipboard.

Ambrose nodded. 

“Great.”

Hannah gestured for Elliot to sit in the cot, and Elliot obeyed. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants.

Hannah put her clipboard aside, and rolled up her sleeves. “Don’t worry, my hands are clean,” she smiled, noticing his stare.

He wasn’t worried about that. He was worried about where her hands were going.

Doctor Hannah picked up a- a thing, and Elliot tried to take deep breaths to calm himself like Ambrose had taught him.

“I’m just going to use this to look in your ears,” she explained, “and then your mouth, nose, and eyes. Like a magnifying glass.”

“Okay,” he said. That didn’t sound too bad.

Hannah put the little cone on the end barely inside his ear, and it was cold but didn’t hurt. She switched to the other side.

“Mhm,” she hummed, “all clear there. Tilt your head up for me?”

She peered into his nose, and again it felt strange. “Good. Open your mouth please, and go ahhh, stick your tongue out- yes just like that. Perfect.”

Elliot closed his mouth, running his tongue over his teeth.

Hannah looked into his eyes, and marked whatever she had been looking for on her paper. 

She pulled out a metal thing from under her coat. It had a metal circle at one end, and two branches at the other.

“This is a stethoscope,” she said. “I’m going to listen to your heart and lungs with it. This might be cold.”

Hannah put the two ends in her ears, and slipped the other end under his shirt. It was cold, and Elliot squeaked.

“Sorry.”

She moved the metal around, and it was uncomfortable. “Breath in deep… hold it… aaaand let it out. Good.”

Doctor Hannah pulled the ends out of her ears, and offered them to him. “Would you like to listen to your heart? It’s always neat to hear your own heartbeat.”

“Um, okay.” Elliot put the ends in his ears.

Thump thump thump.

It felt calming, somehow, and he relaxed. 

“Neat, right?”

Elliot nodded. He listened to the blood flowing through him for a moment longer before handing the stethoscope back.

“Alright, heart and lungs are great. Ears and nose are clear, mouth and throat are nice and pink. How’s your vision?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any trouble seeing things?” she clarified. “Up close, or far away?”

“Um, I don’t think so.”

“Good.”

Hannah put down her clipboard. “Can I touch your face and neck?” she asked. 

Elliot looked over to Ambrose, who nodded. “I- I guess that’s okay.”

“I’ll be gentle,” Hannah assured him. “This shouldn’t hurt, but if it does, you need to tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Her fingers came to just below the back of his jaw, pressing for something, and Elliot could feel something push back.

“I’m checking your lymph nodes,” she explained. “If they’re swollen, that could mean sickness.” She pulled her hands away. “But yours feel fine. Could you please take off your shirt?”

Elliot hesitantly undid the buttons and pulled it off. The cool air made him shiver. 

“Alright,” the doctor said, “I’m going to need you to lie back. I need to feel your organs; make sure everything is okay.”

Elliot took a deep breath and laid down, his fingers gripping the edge of the cot.

“Just relax,” she advised. He nodded stiffly.

Her hands began to press on parts of his stomach, and it was so unlike how other people touched him that Elliot began to calm down.

“You’re doing great,” she said. “Does anything hurt?”

“No,” he breathed out.

“Okay. You can sit up now.” 

Hannah picked up her pen and paper. “I think that’s everything, unless you need me to check your spine. Do you have any concerns?”

Elliot began to shake his head, but Ambrose interrupted.

“I really think you should see his back,” Ambrose warned. “And maybe his… lower half.”

Hannah looked between them. “Are you alright with that?” she asked Elliot.  “Ambrose could step out if it would make you more comfortable.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Elliot’s eyes. “I- could show you, but I- I need him here,” he admitted. 

“That’s perfectly fine,” soothed Hannah. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Elliot wiped his eyes and turned around.

Hannah gasped in shock, and Elliot hung his head, shivering.

“Oh- oh my. Uh-”

Her hand rested on his shoulder. “Do- does your back hurt a lot?”

“No,” he mumbled. “Not anymore.” 

“Okay- um, stand up for me.”

Elliot got off the cot, his vision blurry.

“Try and touch your toes, without bending your knees,” she ordered, and Elliot tried but couldn’t manage it.

Her hand ran over his spine. “Okay, you can stand up. Do you feel any stiffness on your skin? Like- like you have to tug against it?”

“A little.”

Hannah guided him through a few arm movements, concern on her face. They were hard, and he couldn’t do some of them very well.

“Did any of those hurt?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Okay. Go ahead and put your shirt back on.”

Relieved, Elliot pulled it on. 

“I’m going to need you to do some of those exercises every day,” she said. “Scar tissue is less flexible than regular skin, and currently it’s limiting your movement.”

Elliot nodded, an empty feeling in his chest. 

“It might also help if you massaged his shoulders; help loosen those scars up,” Hannah told Ambrose. “It doesn’t have to be every day.”

Ambrose nodded. “Understood.”

Doctor Hannah turned back to Elliot. “Do you want me to check your privates?” she asked, voice low. “We don’t have to.”

Elliot worried his lip. Ambrose wanted her too, and if he didn’t do it now, he would have to later.

“Okay,” he said, numb. “Okay.”

“Is- is that a yes?”

Elliot couldn’t bear to speak, and nodded instead.

He unbuttoned his pants, and pushed them down until they lay on the floor, and his boxers- he couldn’t force himself to take them all the way off. They rested at mid-thigh, and his cheeks burned with shame. He screwed his eyes shut

Hannah’s hands rested on the fabric of his boxers.

“Alright,” she said, her voice soft and gentle. “Does anything hurt right now?”

“No,” he whispered. 

“Good. How about when you use the bathroom?”

“No.”

“Do the scars on your thighs ever bother you?”

“No.”

“Does it hurt when you touch yourself?”

“I- I don’t do that,” he whimpered.

“Okay. I’m going to touch you, very briefly, and tell me if it hurts.”

Hannah moved part of his- he didn’t want to think about it-

“Did that hurt?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’m all done. You can get dressed.”

Elliot fumbled with his underwear, sobbing, and pulled on his clothes as fast as he could.

“Is there anything else you two are worried about?” she asked. Hannah offered him a tissue, and Elliot wiped his eyes.

“I- I think we’re good,” said Ambrose, who looked pale.

“Great. Just let me know if anything changes- anything at all.”

“Thanks, doc.”

___________________

They walked home in silence.

“I’m sorry,” said Ambrose quietly as they left main street. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to do that.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You did, though.” Ambrose shook his head. Elliot’s breath stuttered. Was he in trouble?

“I’m sorry for crying, sir.”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I- I made you do something you didn’t want to do.” Ambrose cleared his throat. “So I’m sorry. It wasn’t right.”

Elliot didn’t know what to say. A part of him was upset, still small and scared, but the other part was relief. There wasn’t anything wrong with him, except his shoulders, and the Doctor said he could fix it.

“I- I’m glad,” he said. “I was scared but I’m better now. I- I wasn't sure if I was normal, um, there. But I know, now.”

“You think it was worth it?” asked Ambrose, opening the door to the inn for him.

“Yes, sir. That’s what I meant.”

“Well… as long as you feel that way, I suppose. Just… tell me if you really don’t want to do something, okay? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Elliot fidgeted. “...okay. Um, can I go to my room? Please?” 

“Sure.”

Elliot practically ran, taking the stairs two at a time. 

He picked up the bear Ambrose gave him and huddled under the bedcovers. 

“I’m normal,” he said to no one. “Normal, normal, normal. I’m fine. I did good.”

He was fine. The doctor said he was fine. The doctor said he was good.

He was good. 

Elliot squeezed his bear tight. “I’m fine.”

And he very nearly believed it.

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[captain-mj]

Honestly a tradegy that the fandom has so many "possessive ghost/ ghost kidnaps soap" but none of soap being the kidnapper I think it would be fun! Very much feel soap would be more of a "taking you for your own good" sorta guy

(Are there any fics like this and if yes PLS link)

I have zero clue if there are any BUT I can make one

Ghost never, ever drank with people if he could avoid it. After the military wouldn't let him back in after Roba, he spent so much of his life trying to drink it away.

Soap was no different. The only difference was that he happened to be his bartender.

After a while, Soap managed to break down some of his walls. Soap just... got him. He was so nice and there was something about him that put Ghost naturally at ease.

And it's the biggest reason why waking up restrained and without his mask felt so much like a betrayal.

Soap looked at him, serene. So gentle.

Ghost tried to jerk himself forward to strangle him but it only bent his back harder. It hurt.

"It's okay, Simon. Not going to hurt you."

"Fucking bastard. Did Roba put you up to this? He pay you?" Ghost spat out, suddenly very very scared. He couldn't handle it. He'd kill himself first. What they were doing in Manchester?

His family.

Oh god, Tommy and Joseph and Beth and his Mom.

"Who's Roba?" Soap tilted his head, fluffy mohawk getting in his eyes. "Nothing like that, m'eudail. How often do you leave the house?"

Ghost glared. "I don't know."

"6. Every night except Tuesday night, you come to the bar. You have your food delivered. You work out in your home. Your mom visits you on Wednesdays which is why you don't come to the bar on Tuesdays. It's so you won't be hungover when she comes, right?"

Ghost stared at him. "You've been stalking me."

Soap smiled. "For months. Watched your every move. You don't take good care of yourself."

Ghost started to take deep breaths, realizing how well he was played. "I... I..."

"It's okay. I promise. I would never hurt you, Simon." He ran his hands through Ghost's hair, gently touching each bleached strand. "Do you dye your hair so you don't look like your father?"

Ghost physically couldn't cry. Instead, he shook until he thought his bones would shatter.

Soap winced. "I'm going to undo some of the ties so you can get in a more comfortable position. You're not going to try to escape, ya understand? You're in a cabin in the middle of the Scottish wilderness."

Ghost let him slowly rearrange him, feeling helpless. Being out of the military and also still being injured meant it was hard to really keep his skills up. He had barely started to bulk back up.

The bed underneath him felt... nice though. Far more comfortable than anything Ghost had ever had.

"I spent a lot of money on this cabin. Had some rich family members die." Soap grinned and Ghost knew for a fact Soap killed them. "So, you're going to be safe here. No more worries. No more fears."

Ghost shuddered and rolled on to his stomach, hiding his face.

"I don't mind your scars. No need to hide those from me."

Ghost choked down something harsh mixed with bile.

"You're not getting your mask back. Don't make me tie you to the bed. I want to see your face."

Ghost slowly adjusted, taking deep even breaths. He was going to die here. The one person he thought was his friend betrayed him.

"There you go, m'eudail." He continued to stroke Ghost's hair until he eventually fell back to sleep, weighed down and likely still drugged.

When he woke back up, his arms were tied behind his back and he was leaning against the headboard. There was a small tray in front of him with some food.

Soap smiled at him. "I'm going to have to feed you. Can't trust you not to try to kill me." He got a spoonful of the soup he had made and offered to Ghost.

Ghost glared at him. "No."

"Simon. Be a good boy for me." Johnny purred, using the same voice he made in the dead of night when he encouraged a very drunk Ghost to drink some water.

Slowly, he opened his mouth, shamefully letting Soap feed him.

It was delicious. Tasted better than the cheap stuff he had been getting. Anything he couldn't microwave was usually out. He just... couldn't bring himself to cook. Soap picked up on his disappointment when it was gone.

"I'll make you more, okay?" Ghost nodded and Soap touched his face, making him squirm. "I can't wait for when I trust you enough to untie you. I promise, I'll take such good care of you."

Ghost looked at him and nodded. Maybe if he played along, it would be easier...

Later that night, Soap got a gun out. He undid Ghost's binds and motioned for him to go to the shower. Ghost followed him, watching the gun warily. Soap clearly had training, knowing exactly how to avoid getting close enough for Ghost to yank it from his hands. He also kept the gun aimed at his legs so it wouldn't kill Ghost if he shot.

Ghost cleaned himself up, enjoying the smell of the soap. It was... pine? He wasn't sure. Once he was done, he pulled the towel into the shower, refusing to let Soap see him.

Soap had gotten him a t-shirt and some sweatpants. They had a skull design on it that he liked a lot. As awful as it was, Soap clearly knew exactly what Ghost liked.

Ghost obediently let Soap tie his hands back together before Soap put him to bed. He sank into the luxury of the blankets and sheets.

Soap got in bed next to him and Ghost was already stepping outside of his body. It wasn't that bad if he dissociated early.

But Soap did not start to undress him. Didn't tug his pants down or get handsy. He didn't even touch him.

Nights were easily the best. Ghost had plenty of time to himself and Soap never touched him at night. He also put rain sounds on at night. It helped him sleep.

The withdrawals hit fast. His steady diet of alcohol and the painkillers he was prescribed for his.... entire body honestly. Soap was so sweet the entire time, knowing exactly how to help even though he refused to give him the drugs or the alcohol to make it stop.

Ghost felt lips against his forehead as Soap checked his fever. "Don't touch me like that."

"Just checking your temperature, Simon. You're so warm. I'm worried." He gave him more acetaminophen and gently pet his hair. "You're going to be okay."

Ghost grimaced as he moved. His vision turned fuzzy as the fever got worse. "Don't let the skeletons get me."

"the skeletons?"

"Yeah. They haunt my dreams. Roba made them."

"Who is Roba?"

Ghost swallowed. "He raped me. A lot. He kept me locked up."

Soap winced. "I'd never. Ever. I promise. I just want to love you, Simon." He put a wet rag over his forehead, trying to cool him down.

"I know. You wouldn't do that to me." Ghost smiled serenely, even as the world spun. Soap stayed next to him, protecting him from the night terrors and fever induced hallucination until he managed to get through it all.

He kept waiting for the other shoe to fall. Ultimatums or forcing himself upon him.

Soap never did. He had such soft hands that fed him and tied him looser and looser until one day he didn't bother.

"If you kill me, I'll be happy knowing I got to spoil you as long as I could."

Ghost didn't even try. The only difference was he (usually) fed himself. He had gotten spoiled and they both knew it.

Soap was gentle when he tried to ask Ghost if he wanted more. It was soft. Just a slight brush of his hands on Ghost's thigh before he grabbed Ghost's hand and held it. "Anything else I can do for you?"

Ghost wanted to say yes. Stupidly. But if he broke, he knew Soap would take whatever he wanted. Despite how good Soap was, he was still anxious. Unreasonably so.

It was absolutely reasonable. Soap was a kidnapper.

Soap nodded when Ghost turned him down and it didn't get brought back up. They watched movies on the couch and Ghost waited by the door whenever Soap had to leave and occasionally they went outside. It was winter and very cold so they didn't do it very often.

Ghost was spoiled and that's why when Soap slipped his shirt off to shower, he touched him. Tracing the tattoos on his back. Enjoying the feeling of him warm beneath.

"Your fingers are freezing." Soap commented, leaning into him. "Having fun?"

Ghost lightly leaned down and kissed his shoulder. "Yes. I am."

[gtwscratch]

This Heart of Mine is Guilty (And Remorseful)

Summary: Grian breaks the rules of the games for Scar, and Scar confronts him about it. (set in Secret Life)

CW: Mentions of past cheating/killing/stealing, character self-deprecating

Word count: 1,233

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

“He needs to log out..!” Grian says as he watches the Wither chase Scar, panicked.

“He can’t, we’re in the middle of a session, Grian,” Cleo responds, also a bit panicked, but she hides it better.

“I know but..! He can’t lose his first life..!” Grian doesn’t finish his sentence, but he can’t get the words out of his head.

He can’t lose his first life because of me again.

Grian knows he’s been awful to Scar. He knows he’s messed up over and over again. He’s let the urges of being a red life take him over and ended up killing Scar on more than one occasion. He’s stolen a life from him and lost it not even twenty minutes later. He’s cheated on him after finding out they were quite literally soulmates.

And yet, after all of that, Scar has shown him nothing but love and kindness and admiration and-

All Grian knows is that he has to stop this.

He watches Scar stumble and slow down, narrowly missing getting hit by a skull, and Grian feels something. There’s an itch just beneath his skin to do something—anything—and his wings puff up a little from the panic. Without really thinking, he pulls out his comm.

<Grian> Scar log out

<Grian> Scar log out

<Grian> Scar log out

Distantly, Cleo is talking, but Grian doesn’t hear her. All he can hear are hushed and angry whispers. The edges of his vision are purple as he continuously types out the message, praying that Scar is going to be able to read it.

Players are never able to log out in times of extreme danger like this—the Watchers make sure of that. But Grian himself isn’t a regular player. He’s mentioned changing the rules before, but he’s never actually tried to do anything. So maybe, just maybe..

Grian’s heart leaps to his throat as he sees Scar pull out his comm on the shore, nearly dropping it. He reads over the messages.

<GoodTimesWithScar had left the game.>

Grian could cry. His legs feel shaky, and his hand goes to cover his mouth with relief and shock. He did it. He actually managed to save Scar.

Grian feels lighter than he has since the desert.

He suddenly remembers that he’s not alone and looks over to Cleo who’s staring back at him with wide eyes.

“.. How did you do that?” she asks, wariness in her voice.

“Um..” Grian can’t think of a good excuse, so he settles for, “I’ll tell you later. We need to go.”

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

Grian knew there was going to be a punishment for saving Scar. The Watchers would never have let that happen so easily. And of course Grian doesn’t regret breaking the rules for Scar—he’d do it again in a heartbeat—but now his wings ache, and his back feels exposed as his secondary and most of his primary feathers have withered away. He’s also lost a life.

He’s exhausted after defeating the Wither, and it shows. He nearly stumbles, but a strong hand catches his arm.

“Woah there, take it easy, G.” Grian relaxes as he hears Scar speak and steadies himself with the man’s help.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, looking up at Scar’s green eyes. Oh, what Grian wouldn’t do for them to stay that beautiful green color.

Scar’s eyebrows are furrowed in concern, and he starts to lead Grian a bit away from the group of people celebrating the defeat of the Wither. When they’re out of earshot, Scar speaks up.

“Why did you do that?”

“What’re you talking about?” Even though he’s tired, Grian tries to play dumb.

The man sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You shouldn’t have used your powers like that for me.”

For a moment, Grian is alarmed before remembering he told Scar about the Watchers (and how he was one of them) while they were both half asleep and cuddling in some past season. Neither of them had spoken about it afterwards when they were more awake, so Grian had figured that Scar didn’t remember. Looks like he was wrong.

This time, he doesn’t deny anything strange happening. “In my defense, I didn’t for sure know if that would work or not.”

“Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have tried it at all.”

“But you were in trouble.”

“Grian, it’s me! I’m always in trouble!” Scar shouts.

Grian’s wings (or what’s left of them) puff up, a bit agitated. He was finally trying to do something right, and Scar didn’t seem to care. “Whatever, what’s done is done. It doesn’t matter.”

Grian’s a little startled when Scar grabs his arms, and he’s even more startled to see the anguish in Scar’s eyes.

“But it does matter!! You lost a life!! Oh, and your pretty wings.. I’m not worth that..”

“No, you stop that.” Scar’s words strike something deep within Grian. This is his fault. He’s the reason Scar doesn’t think he’s worth this kind of sacrifice.

“But I’m not! You are.. everything.. and I’m just me,” Scar says quietly. “So please.. don’t do that again.”

“.. No.”

Scar blinks. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m going to risk my life again for you if I can.” Grian doesn’t think he’s ever been so sure in something before.

Scar’s look of agony is now primarily replaced with confusion. “You-! We’re not even allies, let alone on the same team! Why are you so-!”

“Because I’m not hurting you again!” Grian quickly answers before Scar can even finish the question.

He didn’t really mean to say it—Grian just sort of blurted it out without thinking. He’s never been one to show any kind of vulnerability. However, unlike past instances, Grian doesn’t look or feel ashamed of the revelation. Instead, he stands his ground and speaks confidently (as confidently as he can as the adrenaline wears off.)

When Scar doesn’t respond, Grian continues. “I have been the cause of so much of your suffering in these games. Please, let me save you from something I caused for once.”

He watches as Scar’s expression softens, and he takes a step forward, pulling Grian into a gentle hug. Grian immediately reciprocates, clinging onto the back of Scar’s shawl like the man will disappear if he lets go.

“Grian,” he starts softly, “you know I don’t blame you for any of that, right?”

He doesn’t respond, and the silence is all the answer Scar needs.

“Well, I don’t. I know you didn’t want to do those things. You didn’t have a choice—none of us do. Everything that happened is in the past now. Yeah, it hurt a lot, but I knew it wasn’t really you.

“This is you. You’re trying to make amends for something I’m not mad at you for.” His hand slides to Grian’s waist, rubbing his thumb up and down against the fabric to reassure the avian.

“And, void, I do appreciate the effort, but please don’t be reckless.” Scar kisses the top of Grian’s head, eliciting a soft trill from his throat.

He leans more into Scar, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “You’re one to talk,” he mumbles. He finally lets the exhaustion of the day wear on him.

Scar chuckles softly and easily picks up the smaller man. “C’mon, you need to lay down.”

As Scar carries Grian off to find a bed, Grian starts to get more drowsy. He rests his head against Scar’s chest, and the steady beating of Scar’s heart soothes him into sleep.

Scar is still green.

I saved him.

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

AHHH THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT WITH THE FIRST ONE SHOT!!! I wasn’t expecting so many likes and reblogs!! :DDD

I’m so excited to keep postinggggg :)))

I have one more one shot already in the works, but after that, I’m not sure when the next one will be. Maybe I’ll aim for weekly posts? Not sure yet.

[ivnxrori]

When Sun and Moon meet - S2 FINALE

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: Arguing, Fighting, Betrayal, mentions of death

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 11 - Trust to Betrayal

“What are you doing here?” I hissed. “Aren't you part of the fire nation? Couldn't they make an exception even though you were banished?” I asked but no response. “Oh so you're just going to stay quiet huh? What happened to your snappy attitude when we last met?” I shouldn't be asking such questions, knowing I wouldn't get any response from him. “I genuinely thought you came to Ba Sing Se for a change until I saw the drill in the walls with the fire nation logo. I even gave the benefit of the doubt when you were looking at Appa’s missing poster.” I stopped for a moment of realization “That's why you’re here! Once Aang comes here you and your nation can easily catch him”. I sigh in irritation “You're so annoying you know that? I don't even understand why you want the avatar so bad to the point you almost got killed. If your father really does care he wouldn't have banished you. You're lucky that Aang was the one that wanted to save you from the snow storm, the rest of us wanted you dead!” I scoffed “But of course you don't care! You only want your ‘honor’” I mocked. “Then once you go back to the fire nation you will continue with the fire nation war schemes and stand right next to your father in his horrible plans” 

“That's not my plan” Zuko finally speaks up. “Oh wow, so now you finally spoke up” I rolled my eyes. “Then what is your plan Zuko? All you fire nation people are about war and taking over everyone's happiness” “You don't know what you're talking about,” Zuko said out loud. “You said that many times to me before, but I feel like I know enough” I glared at him but sighed heavily. “But really what's the point of me trying to say anything to you.” I sat against the wall leaning my head back trying to keep my anger in check. “I wasn't the one who caused the drill in the walls of Ba Sing Se, it was Azula,” Zuko said. “Azula?” I asked, “My sister,” he answered. Ah, so the girl in the middle of the fake Kyoshi warriors was Azula. I rolled my eyes “So what? It's your sister, same tribe, same blood, same everything” 

“That's not the case…” Zuko sighed as he continued “my sister and I always had different views of everything ever since we were younger. Which led to my banishment with a scar to remind me” He touched his scar. I furrowed my eyebrows in sadness and moved closer to Zuko. “Did your sister have the same mindset as your father by any chance?” I asked softly as he nodded. “Then did you possibly have the same mindset as your mother?” Stupid question indeed.

“My mother left years ago because of the fire nation” Zuko said which made me wince at my unnecessary comment. “Sorry…” I said awkwardly. “I'm sure you’ll find your mother” I put my hand on his shoulder in encouragement. “Thanks” He gratefully said. I took my hand off of his shoulder and thought about my own mother. “My mother died from the fire nation last year, however weirdly enough I can't remember the details even though it was so recent” I shrugged stiffly. “I actually had a dream about her when you…uh hit me to the point I passed out” This turned way more awkward than it should have. Zuko stiffened and croaked out a sorry but I shrugged it off. “She told me not to give up in my dream but I'm still not sure what that means to this day…maybe she knew my sister was going to sacrifice herself to the moon spirit and to tell me not to give up…she wanted me to keep my head up high.” I sway slightly, feeling quite sad that I lost two of my loved ones in such a short period of time. “I'm sorry” Zuko said in sympathy as I shook my head. “It's not your fault…that's actually why I came to Ba Sing Se, not only for me to start new but to get revenge at the guy who killed my sister.” I said, trying to sound more confident. “The person who killed your sister was sent to the spirit world by the Avatar” Zuko said which made my eyes widened. “Oh…well that works too” I said slightly embarrassed. There was a moment of silence till I spoke up again. “Are you still planning on hunting down the Avatar…” I asked, silently praying his answer will be no. “This scar cursed me to chase the avatar forever…but lately I realized I'm free to determine my own destiny, even if I'll never be free from my mark.” Zuko turned around to face away from me. “What if you could be free from your mark?” I said which made him immediately turn around with his eyes widened. “What…?”

“In the Spirit Oasis, the water there is more enhanced which could heal your scar” I explained “When I was younger I was in major pain and no one knew my cure, so my parents took me to the spirit oasis for my moon spirit to heal me. Which is why my hair is white” I pointed to my hair. “I'm sure your scar could possibly be healed in the Spirit Oasis, I could take you there.” I leaned closer to his scar, he closed his eyes as I moved my thumb across his scar. Then I heard a crash from the other side, showing Aang, Katara and the Old man who owned the tea house. “Katara! Aang!” I said running towards them in a hug. They both hugged me back “Thank you for coming to save me” “Of course we would save you Y/N no need to thank us” Katara said as Aang nodded. “Yeah! You're our friend!” Aang added. I smiled softly “Yeah…friends” I turned around to see Zuko irritated once again. The once soft moment was replaced quite fast. “Go help your other friends” The old man said while consoling Zuko. We nodded and ran out. I was following Aang and Katara but I took one last glance at Zuko in worry.

“We gotta find Sokka and Toph,” Katara said as we were running. I heard an electrifying sound and immediately turned around. Aang blocked it with his earth bending while I used my water bending to turn into ice. I looked to see who the attacker was and it was Azula, of course. Katara moved  her water bending to get a direct attack at Azula, a wave of smoke fills the atmosphere until she comes out again. Attempting to hit us with fire, the three of us used waterbending to shield ourselves. Azula landed on a tall rock which Aang was able to break down with his earth bending. Azula landed across from me, pointing her fingers like she was going to use lightning however she didn't know who to hit. Suddenly a blast of fire landed near Aang. From the corner of my eye, I saw Zuko who hesitated on who to hit. But it didn't take long for him to make his decision, shown by using his fire bending to aim at Aang. “Y/N Go up the waterfall and get Sokka and Toph,” Katara said, blocking Azula's attacks. I nodded instantly moving towards the waterfall, dodging Azula's attacks that were specifically made towards me. I lifted myself up with my bending, looking down at the scene feeling disappointed in myself. Looking at Zuko, I once again was a fool to trust him, again. It didn't take long till I was out of the cave.

  ҉   ☾

“Appa! Momo! ” I yelled after finding them both. I had no idea where I was once I managed to get out of the cave. Luckily, I found Appa and Momo together outside. I immediately got on Appa “Yip yip, we need to get to Toph and Sokka” I said which made Appa make a sound of agreement and he started flying. Once we got near the palace, I immediately saw Toph and Sokka with the King and his bear. “Sokka! Toph!” I yelled. “Y/N!” They both yelled back. I got down from the sky bison to get eye to eye level with the two. “Are you okay? Aang got a vision of Katara asking for help for you” Sokka said. “Yeah, it was hailing a lot around the palace” Toph included. “I'm fine but Katara and Aang aren't,” I said quickly. “They’re fighting Azula and Zuko right now” I was panicking, a lot. Last thing I want is one of them dead. “Do you know where they are?” Toph asked as I nodded. “Get on, everyone” I ushered the king and his bear to get on. 

  ҉   ☾

Once we made it to the destination I got off the bison “You guys stay here, it’ll be dangerous to all come together” I said. “Then why did we all come here?” Sokka whined. “It's because Katara needed to make sure you all were safe, and it's not for long. I just have to use my waterbending to get down and to somehow get Aang and Katara up. You guys need to be here for all of us to escape” I explained as they both nodded. I made my way over towards the waterfall and took a deep breath before jumping in. Once I made it down, I saw a horrific scene. It was Katara, crying while holding Aang’s body. I immediately used a splash of water to border Katara and Aang, making sure no one touched them. Coincidentally a wave of fire was shown, the old man came out of nowhere, landing in front of Katara and Aang. “You’ve got to get out of here! I’ll hold them all as long as I can” he says to both of them, making Katara nod and carrying Aang to get out of here. “Katara!” I yelled out making her look at me in somewhat relief but I could tell she was on the verge of crying again. I pull her closer towards me and make a water platform beneath our feet, helping us up. Before we reached the top I made sure to glare at Zuko, and he saw me, glaring at him. “Just as I thought you wanted a new start” I said, making sure he heard before disappearing.

  ҉   ☾

All of us were able to get above from Ba Sing Se, it wasn't as happy or uplifting as it was before. Instead it was depressing and anxiety wrenching. We stared at Katara, pulling the spirit oasis water out of the bottle to heal Aang. Internally praying he will come back to life again. Once the spirit of water disappeared in Aang, Katara couldn't help but hug him even tighter, crying. I looked down in disappointment at how everything turned out and so did everyone around me. Till a glow of a familiar arrow and breath indicated he was in fact alive. Everyone smiled happily while Katara laid him down and hugged him even tighter. Thank the spirits. “The earth kingdom… has fallen” Said the earth king with his head down, in disappointment and guilt. I felt bad for him. Thinking just as he saved his kingdom, it broke down once again.

A few hours go by, the cold breeze hitting my face making my skin feel like ice. It feels nostalgic, it feels like my home…northern tribe. I looked at Katara, still holding Aang in her arms. I decided to speak up “I'm sorry Katara…” I said shakily. “What do you have to be sorry about? You saved me.” She whispered, looking towards me in worry. I shook my head “I knew about Zuko being in Ba Sing Se the whole time” I admitted. I felt everyone suck in a breath which made me internally wince. “I met him here and talked to him but I didn't do anything because…I-” My voice cracked “I thought he must have changed…if I weren't so naive then…I would have caused any of you guys trouble”. I looked down, ashamed of my actions. Katara’s hand meets mine “It's fine Y/N…I'm just happy all of us have made it out”. I look up to everyone nodding. I dropped my shoulders and continued to look across from me, the night cloudy sky…

Season 2 END

<- Back - Next ->

a/n: WOAH lots of Zuko today and betrayal lmao. BUT S2 HAS OFFICIALLY ENDED. Not 100% sure when season 3 will start up, I already started it however I have ap exams soon for school, so I wont have much time :(. But I wont be gone for a while. Make sure yall take care of yourself and have a nice day! :)

-

taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547 @leaderwon @yukihatesreoyo @heart4hees @4l3x1s @kkissaku @corpsebridenightamare @newjellis @fatkish@pbeckn26@jasminesacademia @kyo-kyo1

[bettyfrommars]

Betty! I'm so excited, for your blurb game can I get E4, ?, 💚

hannah my love!!!!!!!

Your Person is Drifter Eddie, your Place is a Cemetery, and your Thing is a Blanket

This was also inspired by the idea of cemetery caretaker Eddie as imagined by @br0ck-eddie and @jo-harrington

18+ONLY, mention of death and dying, scars, loneliness, I'm afraid I'm deeply in love with him

word count: 694

You knew the way to Pleasant Valley Cemetery by heart. It was your fourth time there that month, as you'd found yourself really needing the company as of late. The company of cold stone and the buried bodies of long dead corpses? You couldn't explain it to yourself, let alone anyone else, but it gave you comfort.

It was October, and autumn leaves crunched under your tires as you made your way up along the tree lined entrance, listening to the new Portishead album. It was also the middle of the day in the middle of the week, and there was only one other car parked way over on the on the other side of the plots. There was also a motorcycle by what you assumed was a utility shed, and for some reason, it looked familiar, like maybe it had been there before.

Maybe you'd sit and chat with Eleanor Harris, who shared a plot with her husband Daniel; they'd gone to rest only three days apart in 1946. Or Anthony Russo who passed away when he was barely four years old in 1887, his marker was a little carved lamb. You gravitated towards the plots that looked like no one visited anymore, and you usually brought a little something for them, but that day was an exception.

You'd been walking with your head down, arms wrapped around yourself, but stopped short when you got to the tree near the grave of Sherwood Smith. There was someone sitting there, a few yards away from the cracked and worn headstone.

He was on a blanket, booted feet and ripped jeans, long dark hair pulled back to reveal a patchwork of angry scarring down his face and neck. There was a brown lunch sack at his hip, and he'd just taken a bite of a white bread sandwich...bologna perhaps?

You tried to spin on your heel and go the other way, but it was too late, he'd already spotted you.

"Oh, hey," he swallowed the bite, stuffing the rest of the sandwich into the sack, and got to his feet, dusting himself off. "Am I in your way?"

Your voice got caught in your throat as you searched his warm chocolate eyes that were kind, yet weary. He didn't know what to do with his other hand, so he shoved it in the pocket of his leather jacket as you found your words.

For the first time since arriving, you noticed that there were fresh bouquets of wildflowers on Smith, as well as some of the other long forgotten graves in that corner.

"Did you know Sherwood?" It was kind of a silly question, you rationed a bit too late, since the person in question passed away before either of you were ever born, but maybe the man standing in front of you was a relative.

"Not formally," Eddie kept his head turned slightly, trying to hide the scarred side. "But I'm the groundskeeper, so I like to go around and introduce myself to everyone."

It was more than that, but he didn't know if you'd understand that he paid attention to the ones that never got any visitors, and he made sure they were always well-kempt, brought them flowers, even chose different ones to have his lunch with.

"Well, Sherwood and I go way back," you chimed, mirroring the grin that quivered on one side of his mouth.

He popped a finger gun at you. "Didn't I see you here last week leaving flowers for Sara Gerber?"

You nodded, feeling a bit exposed. "Yep," you popped the "p", looking down at your feet. "I have quite a few...friends here, you could say."

"No, I get it," he started to feel so at ease with you that he let you see his face straight on, paper bag crinkling as he loosened his grip on it.

"I have a granola bar in my bag if you want to---" you gestured to the blanket. "---I mean, we could all have lunch together, if you have time?"

Every single task he had planned for the rest of that day could absolutely wait.

"Yeah, I got time," he stepped back to make room for you. "But I know Sherwood is a pretty busy guy."

[bruciemilf]

Watching the last of us currently and I believe the " Grumpy bastard who's slowly been robbed of hope meets snarky kid who's the incarnation of sunshine" trope fits Clark and Kon so well

Jon too! I mean, just this motherfucker

Meeting a kid who's like him? Immune?

"...I knew Lex was crazy but this," he gestures to the whole of Kon, to the everything around him, " This? Is the worst crime he ever did. "

Kon bites both his cheeks, too slim and too pale and too worn out for a fourteen year old. There's pieces of Clark that scar him. His anger, for one. Only thing keeping them warm anymore, " Are you talking about me or you?"

" I'm not you,"

" That's your issue!"

" Claaaaark?"

" Not now Jonny,"

" Yeah Jon, just let him finish yelling at me about how much of a mistake I am!"

" Mistakes are something unintentional, Conner; You? are a bad decision," and he feels guilty as soon as he says it. He hates it; Hates it that he's meaner, sharper. That Kansas boy with sunshine in his hair wouldn't have talked to anyone like that.

But that Kansas boy died when the world did.

" Clark! It's really important!"

Clark bites his tongue. He already yelled at a goddam teenager, he won't yell at the toddler, too. " What -- What, buddy?"

Jon's tiny finger points to a little town, " There's light in there!" Kon doesn't wait for him, and it's not like Clark expected anything different.

They haven't grown closer since Metropolis, since their feet were scraped by walking endlessly, since they've been saving eachother's lives more often than they should've.

Clark sighs as he watches him go, Jon In his arms and a loaded gun over his shoulder, " No, Jonny, don't touch that. It's bad," He says, gently grabbing the kid when that tiny little hand tries to grab the barrel. He knows Jon'll have to use one soon.

Clark just hopes he won't be around to see it.

Let them meet Jason and Bruce when Kon and Jason literally try to maul eachother,

" Kon!" There's a ball of limbs and reds and dark hair tangled together, feral and angry, mangled like two angry snakes clutching at eachother, " is he bit?!"

" I don't care!"

Crack.

Kon isn't immune to broken noses.

The building they're in is big, like everything else in the city, but slightly more titanic, more towering. Darker and brighter all of the same. The echoing of, " Jason," frames that better, traveling through the hardwood floor and walls.

"... Oh, fuck, we're in Gotham. "

" Whats Gotham?"

Jason, who's beside Bruce, now, -- The Bruce Wayne, thought hardly anyone could tell under those bruises and scars and dark smudges dripping down his diamond jawline, -- snarls,

" How the fuck do you not know what Gotham is, dipshit? What, you've been born yesterday?"

Bruce's hands squeeze at his shoulders, slightly rounder and fuller in frame than Kon's. That was expected. Everyone bleeds in the apocalypse, but no one bleeds the same, " Jason. Language."

" Last year, actually,"

"...Holy fuck," Jason gasps when Jon wiggles around, an action Bruce mimicsm, "Holy shit. That's a baby. I haven't seen a baby in years. Bruce, do you,--"

Bruce is already advancing, taking steps, not brave but not cowardly. He hands Kon a handkerchief for his bleeding nose, but there's no breaks in his and Jon's eye contact.

A stare of wonder. Fright, but wonderful. "... Hi, honey. My name is Bruce. What's your name?"

Jon's been hiding his face in Clark's neck until Bruce talked, just as scared of other human beings as Clark was, but shyness dies quickly with him. " Hi! "

" His name's Jon," Clark says, " he'll be six next week." God. He'll be six. He doesn't know. He has to pretend to know or he'll go crazy. Bruce nods. His hand is held out, " May I?"

He asks Jon if he wants to, and of course he says yes. Who doesn't want to be loved at world's funeral? Jon and Bruce cuddle in the middle of nowhere, and they're left to stare.

" Jason, show Kon the bathroom, please. And you're welcome to a shower if you'd like. But no guns," his tone is final, and Clark doesn't mind munch. He doesn't rely on them for survival.

Kon does find it weird, " Where do you keep yours, then?"

"I don't like guns."

"Then how'd you kill sickos till now?"

" We don't kill them."

" Speak for yourself," Jason mutters, pinching Jon's cheek on his way upstairs, " How slow are you, freak?"

" Not slower than you, creep!"

Clark watches. It's nice. To see him be a kid.

He turns to Bruce, unsure, skeptical, all he ever is these days, " You seriously don't kill them? Not any of them?"

" There's enough death around, Mr. Kent. I refuse to contribute. Besides. Aren't we all dead already?" Clark hums. He doesn't know how to answer that. Watching Bruce kiss Jon's cheeks is easier.

It's human.

[my-adhd-gremlin-blog]

I wrote this fic based on a post I made about pirate!Scar being the same person as s8!Scar. This SMP has me in a chokehold, but Scar's character especially has me hooked. Hope you enjoy!

The tavern was alive with the sound of raucous laughter as the Kestrels threw back their ales and shared their stories.

" - and then I said, that's not my wife, that's a crab!" Martyn bellowed, swigging more ale.

"Oh, very funny, Marty," Oli grumbled, hiding his embarrassment behind his own tankard. "My wife is not a crab! She's a very beautiful, very real lady!"

The crew continued to guffaw, ruddy faced and cheery from the sheer amounts of alcohol they'd consumed.

"Oli's wife is cra-ab, Oli's wife is a cra-ab," Sausage chanted gleefully, spilling most of his drink on the floor in the process.

Disturbed by the commotion, Captain Jellie curiously wandered over from the bar, leaping into Scar's lap for a fuss. Scar smiled, scratching Jellie behind the ears. The feline began to purr.

"What about you, Scar? Did you have a special someone at home?" Martyn asked, also reaching a hand out towards the cat.

Scar met Martyn's gaze with unfocused eyes. He thought perhaps he might be trying to make fun of him, too, but Martyn's interest seemed sincere. Scar's smile grew wider, even more playful.

"Me? No! There's a whole lotta Scar to go around, it just wouldn't be fair to the world if I settled down with just one person," he replied slyly.

Martyn chuckled. "Alright, charmer. Maybe you can share some of that charisma with the rest of us, hey?"

He leaned forward, swaying slightly in his chair, surveying Scar with hungry eyes. Martyn was flirting with him, that much he knew. But a face had appeared in Scar's mind, his special someone, and his heart was twisting with guilt. Not wanting to be rude, he threw Martyn a wink and chugged the rest of his ale, hoping that would be the end of it.

"Whoo, look at me go! Martyn, Scar, look! Check out my monocle!"

Oli, who had seemingly gotten over the crab comment, was now entertaining Sausage and Kyle by balancing his monocle on the end of his nose, like a seal with a rubber ball. Inevitably, it slipped and fell to the table, cracking down the middle.

"Oh my gosh, Scar! Look at my monocle!" Grian cried, examining himself in the mirror with delight. "How do I look?"

He gave a little twirl, and Scar whistled his approval. Grian was giving him the biggest grin; he didn't think his heart could handle it.

"Perfect! I told you the hat was a good idea. Now you look like a real train conductor."

Grian laughed, flicking the tiny top hat on Scar's head. "And you still look like the world's worse salesman."

Scar gripped the edge of the table, hard. A memory he thought he had lost long ago suddenly hit him like a gale force wind, and it felt like all the air had been knocked out of him.

"Scar, you okay, buddy?" Oli asked.

Scar waved him off. "Oh, fine. Absolutely fine." He tried to stand, and immediately stumbled. "Actually, I'm a little drunk. I'd say it's time for us, Jellie and me, to hit the hay."

○

The next morning, the Kestrels, all nursing severe hangovers, set out on their first mission in hopes of earning some coin. The rough sea churned their stomachs, but they pressed on, motivated by their greed for gold.

An island grew larger on the horizon, until the ship finally rolled gently onto the soft sand. Sausage dropped the anchor and the crew disembarked, glad for once to be on dry land.

"Are we sure this is the place? It sure doesn't look like a cursed island," Kyle said, taking in the scenery.

"Of course this is the right place. Are you questioning my navigation skills?" Sausage balked.

"I wouldn't dream of it, my dear," Kyle responded with a wink.

"Oh, are we flirting? I want in on that!" Martyn threw an arm around both of their shoulders, planting a kiss on each of their cheeks.

"Sorry to interrupt this little smooch-fest, guys, but Oli is looking a little green around the gills," said Scar, pointing over his shoulder to Oli, who was curled up in the sand holding his stomach.

"No, I'm fine! I'm fine, I -" Oli rolled over, and up came his breakfast. "I'm going to have to stay with the ship," he conceded.

"Lightweight, Oli!" Sausage teased jovially.

With Martyn and Scar's help, Oli managed to pull himself up into a sitting position. He looked much more worse for wear than the rest of the crew.

"If it makes you feel any better, Oli, you look as bad as I feel," Martyn said.

Oli glared at him. "Why would that make me feel better?"

"Well, if Oli is fine to stay here feeding the fishes," said Kyle, eyeing the throw up that was slowly getting washed away by the surf, "then I see no reason why the rest of us can't go and explore the island. There may be treasure to be had. Perhaps, if you're feeling better by nightfall, Oli, you could join us for some monster-hunting?"

He threw Kyle a weak thumbs up. "You got it, boss man."

"That settles it, then," Sausage declared. "Onward, Kestrels! To adventure!"

"To adventure!" Martyn and Kyle chorused.

Scar, however, was looking into the distance wistfully. "You guys go ahead, I'll catch up later."

The ground beneath their feet rumbled. Earthquakes had become pretty much a daily occurrence at this point, and most of the Hermits couldn't remember a time when gravity wasn't a little unstable. Grian tugged on Scar's arm, pulling him inside the observatory to shelter from wayward floating dirt.

At the top, they both sunk to their knees, exhausted from the climb. Nobody in Boatem had slept for days, and the fatigue was making them delirious. The bright, looming figure of the moon shone threateningly through the observatory skylight. It was bigger tonight. It was constantly getting bigger.

"It's not getting bigger," Grian announced quietly. "It's getting closer."

Scar's heart thudded violently in his chest, but all he had the energy to do was let out a meek sob.

"This is the end, isn't it? This world is coming to an end."

Grian didn't say anything. There was no point denying it. Instead, he reached out to Scar, and despite being smaller, pulled him to his chest. Scar didn't resist.

"We'll build a new world, it'll be better than this one," Grian said, stroking Scar's hair.

"But we barely got any time in this one. This place was just starting to feel like home. I'm not ready to move on yet."

Grian chuckled lightly. "I don't think we have much of a choice, if the moon has other plans," he said. "Home isn't just a place, Scar. It's in the people you surround yourself with, too. As long as you and me are together, we'll always be home. And I for one sure do not plan on leaving you."

Scar's eyes drooped. He was tired, he was scared. But now, he was also beginning to realise that he was loved, too.

"You promise?" He muttered, fighting hard not to fall asleep in Grian's arms.

Grian held him tighter. "I promise."

A promise, sealed with a kiss.

Martyn frowned, concerned and slightly puzzled. "Are you alright, pal? Not gonna blow chunks like Oli, are you?"

"I swear to God, Marty, if I had the strength, I'd like to throw some very choice words at you," Oli groaned, half-heartedly flipping him off.

Once again, Scar was dismissive of his friends' concern. "Stop worrying about me. I'm OK, really. It's just been so long since I've had a crew, I got used to being a one man show. I'd appreciate a little bit of 'me' time. It's nothing personal."

Scar had almost said 'I promise' , but the words got stuck in his throat. The last time a promise was made with him, it got broken. Still, the other Kestrels seemed happy enough with his answer.

"OK, then. We'll see you later, Scar!"

Scar waved them off with a big smile. "Bye, now!"

Oli groaned again. "And now you're going to leave me, too, aren't you? Go, Scar, leave me here to die."

Scar rolled his eyes fondly. "Don't be so dramatic, you're not gonna die. Here." Scar handed him a flask full of fresh water. "Drink that. You'll be fine. Take care of yourself, I'll be back in a little while."

The island was beautiful. White sand, lush grass, palm trees reaching for the clouds. Everywhere you looked there was some interesting flora and fauna. Scar trekked up and over a hill, finding the remains of a sunken ship on the other side. It once must have been very impressive, judging by the sheer size of the wreckage. Now all that was left of it was splintered wood, torn up sails and barnacles in every nook and cranny.

Still, there may be something to salvage.

It took Scar a good part of the day to explore the entire shipwreck, encountering issues with a particularly curious duck that just did not want to leave him alone. When the sun reached its peak, Scar took a break, nibbling on a slightly mushy banana to dull his biting hunger. He stowed away the peel once he was finished with it; another potential customer to scam.

A brief run-in with a Kite confirmed for him that whatever had been left behind had already been ransacked by one of their own (Scar swore he would sink that Tubbo's ship one day). Writing that particular mission off a as a dud, Scar began his ascent again. He would go check on Oli, maybe meet up with the others, and slay a few monsters.

At the crest, Scar took a moment to take in the view. He could imagine how the night sky must look from here. How close the stars would seem to be. His eyes were starting to mist over when he caught a flash of red in his peripheral vision.

A scarlet macaw had come in to land beside him, as if completely unaware of his presence. Scar figured the animals here must see so little of humanity that they'd never learned to be afraid of him. He crouched, lifting an arm and holding it out. With a sharp whistle, Scar called the bird, and with very little hesitation, it soared up to him and perched on his forearm.

There were seeds in his bag, Scar was sure of it. With a little rummaging, he managed to grab a handful. The bird ate right from the palm of his hand.

Scar huffed a laugh. "Does this mean we're friends now?"

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, the parrot took off again, flying off in the direction of the setting sun.

The void jump wasn't planned. Scar had failed his Boatem family. His rocketship never left the ground. Still, he had hope. They were together, at least. They'd make it to the next world.

Time passed. Scar wasn't sure how long. It was Pearl who began to deteriorate first. Her body became skeletal, her lips turned blue, and not long after, they were setting her body free.

Mumbo went next. His cold, stiff corpse remained with them for days, before finally, Impulse convinced Grian to let him go.

Scar's hope dwindled as fast as his grief mounted. He was supposed to save them, but instead he was clinging to dear life and praying his last two friends were doing the same.

Impulse went quietly. He'd never liked to make a fuss. Not a word was said when his body went numb from cold. Not a word about how agonising his hunger had become. No complaints, just peace.

It was just Scar and Grian left, floating in the void, holding onto each other desperately. Grian had always been a stubborn one. Even when faced with death, he refused to die. Scar believed they'd make it. They'd live for for the ones they'd lost.

But then...

"Scar, I'm so cold," Grian murmured weakly.

"Cuddle in closer. I'll keep you warm."

"I'm so hungry, Scar," whined Grian.

"We'll eat when we get to the new world. There's bound to be a rift around here somewhere. Soon, you'll see."

Grian started to go limp in Scar's arms. Scar held him tighter.

"Scar... I love you."

And then he went still. Grian did make it to the new world, but he never got to see it. He broke his promise.

"You left me," Scar whispered into the wind.

He watched the bright plumage of the colourful bird blur on the horizon as it flew further away. A tear rolled gently down his cheek.

"I never should have trusted a pesky bird."

This got a little morbid towards the end, sorry. I was up late last night fighting stomach cramps (on a work night ���) so I guess I just chose violence. I was gonna add a scene in which Scott and Cleo found Scar washed up, and they decide to take him in (and bury Grian's body), but it didn't seem necessary in the end. Just know that the "new world" is the Faction Isles, not season 9.

(P.s. it was Scar's comment about "not trusting pesky birds" that essentially fueled this entire fic).

[bambiraptorx]

For the ask game! Raph and with either Starved or Punishment

Oooo this is gonna be fun.

content warning: disordered eating

---

Raphael 'Ragnarok' Hamato learns many things when he gets tossed back in time, and one of them is that he'd apparently underestimated just how scarce food had gotten during the decade or so that he'd been living in a world dominated by the Krang.

Sure, he'd known there were limits to what he could have--snapping turtles have a nasty habit of growing throughout their lives, after all, and feeding someone who's just going to keep getting bigger and bigger puts a strain on anyone's resources. He's gotten used to a reduced food intake over the years, everyone has.

But he just doesn't quite realize how reduced it really was until being thrown into the past, bruised and battered and more exhausted than he'd ever been before, and somehow ending up in the care of none other than Baron Draxum.

And it's not like he minds the Baron attempting to nurse him back to health--he needs to recuperate somewhere, anyway, and watching Draxum trying to hide his research when Raph already knows full well what's going on is kinda funny--but it involves way more food than it should. Three meals a day, plus snacks in between? It's ridiculous.

At least, that's what he thinks at first.

The weeks pass as he waits for a sign from his brothers, his injuries healing. There's more than he'd thought at first; at least there's more things Draxum considers to be 'injuries' than Raph does. A few cracks in his shell, some thin places where the scutes never fully grew back after taking damage, scars and old wounds galore, not to mention all the actual damage. So what if those are all healing slowly? Not like Raph has anything else to do right now but heal, rest, and pretend to eat all the food he's given.

And it's not like it's even that hard to hide what he doesn't eat. Some of it he squirrels away here and there, just in case. Some of it he pawns off to the gargoyles: all it takes is telling them he doesn't like the texture or the taste, though if he isn't careful with how much he gives them they'll bring him more. Most of it he sneaks back into the kitchen, hiding it away in the back of the fridge or taking the time to stash it in a container.

A few times he's had to take a protein shake (or the weird yokai equivalent of it, anyway) to the bathroom, and pour it down the toilet, cringing internally at the waste of food, but it's fine, really, it's not like he would have eaten it. Some days he hides or stashes or replaces more than he eats, but it's not like he wasn't managing just fine before. He's not even that hungry nowadays.

And maybe it's just all the time he has now, but he seems more tired than he ever was before. Colder, too. Draxum must not have heat in his house or something, that seems like something a mammal who lives with two employees made of rock would forget about.

Not like it matters too much right now, when he's getting himself a glass of water in the middle of the night. Also putting his bowl of rice from earlier back in the fridge. Why did the gargoyles bring him that, anyway? He'd already had his three meals for the day, he doesn't need extra food.

It's just after he puts the bowl away (well, puts the rice away in a different container, he's not leaving an entire untouched bowl in the fridge to be found later) that the kitchen lights flick on. Raph blinks a few times at the sudden brightness as he automatically shifts into a wider stance and lets ninpo bubble up his arms--oh, it's just Draxum. He looks pissed, is he not sleeping well again? Couldn't be Raph, he knows for a fact he's been too quiet to wake someone up.

Draxum glares at him with a ferocity he hasn't witnessed since coming to the past, and even before that hasn't been directed at Raph in years. "I don't understand why you keep doing this."

Raph sets his empty bowl in the sink, gently so it doesn't crack. "...doing what?"

"Don't play innocent, you're getting rid of your food again." Draxum jabs an accusatory finger in his direction. "You've been doing this for weeks and it cannot continue."

"Noooot really sure what you're talking about here." Raph reaches for the cabinet where the glasses are kept. Maybe Draxum's just in one of his moods again. He's a lot crankier in the past, that's for sure.

"You nearly passed out earlier today!" Draxum yells, and okay, Raph does not care for that at midnight.

"Pretty sure that was just exhaustion catching up with me. 'Sides, I don't need that much food anyway." He sets the cup under the faucet and turns the water on.

Draxum's mouth falls open. "You don't--you need more food than what I've been given you for the last few weeks, any simple calculation of your caloric needs could show you that. That's what the food between meals is supposed to be for! Not hiding away! And you'll only need more as your recovery continues and your metabolism jumpstarts again--" he pauses as Raph tilts his head.

"You sure?" It's a genuine question, but it makes Draxum ball his hands into fists so tight they tremble.

"Ragnarok--do you realize the condition you were in when I found you? The injuries that wouldn't heal, the lack of appetite, the constant cold you complain about--those are signs of starvation. You were on the edge of mass organ failure when I found you, and with your continual avoidance of food--" Draxum presses a fist against his temple. "And you're telling me you didn't even know?!"

The water is still running, overflowing the side of the cup. Raph slowly reaches out his hand and turns it off. He blinks, first with his outer eyelids, then the inner membrane.

"No, I didn't."

There are a lot of things that he'd learned before coming to the past, but the signs of starvation weren't among them. That would explain a lot more that he's actually comfortable with it explaining.

---

I don't want this to get too much longer so I won't write the resolution, but I couldn't not tie this into my I'm Not Dead Yet AU.

ask game

[sonicasura]

Let's be honest with ourselves that Transformers Earthspark has its issues. It isn't uncommon for the series to have a few messy iterations throughout the years. However those at least have something going for them.

Bayverse is a junk pile yet there's a lot of material you can build off on and some pretty interesting concepts. RiD15 is an awful sequel to Prime but does decently well as a standalone although there are much needed changes to be had. Earthspark... Well, it's just there.

I can be lenient with the plot holes and poor pacing as Nickelodeon is notorious for interfering with any show that isn't SpongeBob to the point of cancellation. The issues truly land on the characters themselves. I'm gonna try to simplify it without devolving into a rant like the previous draft.

Edit: Gonna add some further edits as I wrote this in the middle of the night. Plus my simplified version skipped some key details.

Robby. Somehow they made a human character I actually dislike instead of be neutral about. In the official Transformers wiki, he's labeled as a big brother who cares for his siblings but his actions so far say otherwise. Robby literally ran away in the first episode because they moved then decided to try and hide the Terrans from his parents.

Yet he rarely gets enough consequences for his actions. I think we don't just need less Emberstone saves not just because of plot armor but force actual character growth on him. Like a life changing to one of his siblings as consequences for his actions and strained relationship until he gets his head outta his ass.

Edit: Yes, I know Robby is a teenager but that isn't a decent enough excuse for his behavior. Seen the trope about big brothers who do act closed off or at some points rude but they haven't done shit that put their family in serious danger. No, I didn't try to purposely forget the times he was injured badly.

There honestly needs to be less of those and his consequences be adjusted to it affects someone else badly. *

Next issue is lacking confrontation with Optimus choices alongside the obvious misplaced trust in the 13 Primes. Quintus Prime literally emotionally manipulated and scarred Mo through a fake bad ending reality because she doubted herself. No good person would do that, much less an actual ally. Even moreso on a child.

I seen this shit in Trollhunters but at least Jim, the main character, was a teenager. (It still was wrong though.) We also got remember that Liege Maximo and Megatronus/The Fallen are Primes. Yet somehow it is best to trust them.

Don't get me started with some of Optimus' choices when it comes to GHOST. He probably did it to protect his Autobots but what about the Decepticons who are locked away? Why are there so little of his companions with him especially since Bumblebee had fucking went into hiding before the show began.

There needs to be tension between Optimus with his Autobots. Someone is bound to snap and Bumblebee would have the biggest impact. The man clearly isn't okay as he's doing things that even Megatron admits ain't like him.

Mandroid needs to be written differently. He has the making of a sympathetic villain but oh boy. First off it is clear that his depiction is ableist aligned since the reason he doesn't like Cybertronians is because he lost his arm. Major thing to change right there.

Give him a narrative where his interest been genuine but slowly declines as the Autobot/Decepticon war increases the number of destroyed lives. Let him become a victim to this than just 'I lost my arm so death alongside experimentation to all Cybertronians'. Also don't make Mandroid ignore the obvious fact that the Transformers parts he puts into his body is slowly poisoning and instead come up with ways to fight the infection. Kinda like in Ironman 2 where Tony's arc reactor began to do the same thing.

Edit: Mandroid's negative views on Cybertronians are about the war and he's aware of the Energon poisoning. It is just that it is poorly portrayed to the point you rarely see it over his Arachnamechs/his ruined life.

Have the man present various evidence of destruction the war caused by both sides at the Malto children or anonymously spread such info around town to sew discontent with the townsfolk. 'These are the people who you consider heroes. Who you see as family and friends. Or should these tragedies be forgotten?'

Do a Baxter Stockman where you frequently see him try to fix the Energon poisoning than just simple dialogue. Even have testing on organic subjects to see how they react and find ways to counter it. Don't keep these key points as simple dialogue. *

I don't think Karen needs much changes either. 'But her taking over Cybertron doesn't make sense!' It actually does for one reason: hubris. Have you ever seen what happens when you give a control freak power? Their behavior becomes more erratic as they begin to think they deserve more. She is xenophobic in nature so imprisoning Decepticons and ordering around the Autobots is a drug to her.

Karen wants to treat them like slaves so the next step in her mind is Cybertron. Her death is well deserved and well played. Just like Icarus, the bitch flew too close to the sun.

I think the last major issue, other than out of character racist Shockwave, is the Terrans. No offense but they need a bit less screentime so the rest of the cast can shine. We barely see Alex and there's unclarified issues involving Bumblebee with Arcee if he's uncomfortable around her.

I also want their flaws to be at the forefront. Thrash is the only one who gotten such character development from his encounter with Swindle. We need more of that! Like Hashtag's overreliance on the Internet biting her back as she is forced to use real world skills.

Edit: I accidentally put in Terrans when I really meant Twitch. The screentime for everyone needs to be balanced mainly for the Malto family. Alex alongside the three younger Terrans rarely get involved or their characters further build upon. Twitch needs to get benched more.

Also the Dad Number 2 should really be addressed. Wheeljack was clearly uncomfortable when it been brought up. Plus it is way too fast to even consider such ideas unless you plan to have it addressed properly. Like 'Kid. We barely know each other yet somehow I became a father figure in an instant? It's best not to do that until you truly certain "Dad Number 2" doesn't mean harm or feels comfortable with it.' *

Earthspark clearly has potential but these problems need to be handled better. Addong the deleted scenes help add some clarification but canon needs to present it. We are supposed to get a second season so hopefully some of these are addressed.