#like yeah he has his faults and his mistakes but at his core this boy is kind and warm and compassionate. like wow. incredible

[starry-bi-sky]

Hi IT TOTALLY HASN'T BEEN *checks watch* THREE DAYS.

First off yesssss Danny has an ice core/space core while Wisp/Dames/(Damon?) has a fire/star core. But ALSO which is perfect for a little bit of drama beCAUSE you know who else has a fire core? Vlad. You know who is obsessively trying to adopt a certain halfa (or halfas?) into his family? Vlad. All I'm saying is that when his manipulation tactics with Danny doesn't work, there's a perfectly cherubic little boy with a fire core right there that's young enough to be much, much easier to manipulate....

Why, after all! They have the same core, Vlad could help Damian with his powers much better than his brother can. And if Damian is on his side, it'll only take a little convincing to get Danny on his side! He's seen how protective the boy is over the toddler....

Which wouldn't be a bad plan, if it wasn't Danny and Damian that Vlad was messing with. Vlad is going to get crushed. Curbstomped. Turned into a fine paste by one truly incensed mama bear.

And aaaaa Wisp is a little kitten. A mischievous and playful little kitten, who likes to play hunt Danny when his back is turned (it MIGHT work if Damon didn't have a tendency to giggle whenever he got close... Or set off Danny's ghost sense/flood the parent-child bond they have with the sense of lightjoy-play.) And yesss his ghost form as is is very simple. He's gonna have a blast experimenting once he gets older and he settles more into his person.

Baby ghosts SO have a much easier time at shapeshifting/changing their size. It's kinda like how kids have a ton more energy than adults do but also a built in defense-mechanism to hide from 'predators'. Makes it easier to hide under their parent.

Yesyesyes to the ghost cannibalism. Whenever they go into the Zone and have to leave the spectre speeder, Wisp is under strict conditions not to leave Danny's side, and just as an extra precaution, Danny's scarf acts as a secondary child leash just in case Damon gets the idea to zip off somewhere. (They usually don't have too much of a problem, Damon prefers to be close to Danny in the zone out of ghostbaby instinct. Much safer to be tucked under baba's underbelly than it is anywhere else. But... just to be safe. Or if they're in the Far Frozen/Greater Athens/one of the mega-isles)

I've thought it before but I don't think I've said it -- and if I have, I'll say it again -- but you know the Batman Shadow Blob thing he's sometimes drawn as? That's Danny. That's Danny 100%. He can just go Full Shadow Ghost at a whim and it's so fun, he loves hiding in his friends' shadows and scaring the shit out of them. It's less fun when he inflates his size and turns into a great snarling, vaguely-human-shaped shadow beastie when someone tries to go after Wisp.

Rip to that one dude in the Greater Athens, he still gets nightmares sometimes.

Danny has never MacGuyvered something faster in his life than when Damon started floating, flying, and going through walls, and when he started getting the hang of it. Damon's threes were terrible. Oh man. Danny was convinced he was going to go gray before 16.

He kept the leash in his backpack or bag Always whenever he went out with Damon before Damon stopped running off.

Aaaa I love that Danny and Bruce have some kind of friendship/bond after that initial trust is established, that's so sweet. I don't see them having a relationship that isn't like, Danny dunking on him, that often. So that's super sweet <333. They talk about their Damians over tea, and Bruce has baby pictures from Talia (they trade).

Honestly tho I imagine Danny being super skittish/shy around his template at first, if only because of his own trauma and insecurities. He feels extremely guilty over his own existence lol. Lmao even. He's very polite to Batman when they first meet because he feels like he needs to make it up to him somehow, even if his creation was out of his control.

(he empathizes with the man HARD because he was also cloned. So its a special kind of hell that danny is in where "yeah I know what its like to be cloned so i know how violating that feels" and "i'm a clone, i feel so gross about myself bc i know what its like to be cloned. i can't stand the skin im wearing, oh god" aND "nothing about me is unique. i'm a ten cent copy of something far more advanced than me." all co-exist with each other. He's got clone trauma^3 <3)

And after Batman reveals his identity to him, I see Danny struggling to look him in the face a lot. It pulls up all those ugly feelings in him over his own identity. The first time Danny went home post-reveal, he covered all the mirrors in the house (or at least in places where he would see it) and flinched away from his reflection for a while.

Batman has to reach out and bridge that gap first before any kind of connection can be made lol. But once they get over that initial awkwardness, I can see them very much developing an almost sibling-like bond despite the age gap. Danny very affectionately calls him "template" as a playful nickname. And, as a personal hc I have, calls him Buzz.

("You know! Since all your kids call you "b" and a 'bee" is a type of insect, and bees buzz! So, Buzz!" "I thought it was because Buzz Aldrin was your favorite astronaut--" "ssHHHHHUSH DAMON")

Wisp so play-hunts with Kon whenever he visits. He's not really allowed to with Sam or Tucker since they're 'squishy humans who will get VERY hurt with your teeth if you bite them -- yes even if they're baby teeth' but Kon is not only okay with it, but invulnerable! So Damon's got the okay to play.

Which also makes me think of like, Danny and Damon visiting Wayne Manor, and they're chilling on the couch with some of the other Fam. Damon is leaning against Danny and idly using his hand as a chew toy, and showing off some very frighting fangs while he's at it. Danny looks completely nonplussed, and is either scrolling boredly through his phone, or talking to like, Tim or Bruce or something.

"uhh--- Danny.. are you sure Damon should be--"

"Dw it's fine, he's still got his baby teeth. The adult fangs haven't come in yet."

"Adult fang--?"

and Danny gently grabs Damon's face, squishing his chin between the web of his thumb, lightly ignoring Damon's indignant whining, and uses his thumb to push his upper lip up to show off the little fangs on Damon's upper jaw. "Ghosts have fangs, although they all look different from ghost to ghost. Wisp is still little, so he's got baby teeth. And only on the top shelf. Once he starts losing them, his big ones will come in. And they'll probably look like mine."

He lets go of Damon, and then hooks his finger around the corner of his mouth and pulls the skin back to show off some fierce looking fangs, both top and bottom canines look much sharper and bigger than a human's should, and the teeth surrounding it look a little sharp as well.

"I still wouldn't let him bite you though, the itty babies can do some serious damage when they want to."

(honestly baby ghosts probably have even sharper teeth than adults do just because its an even better defense mechanism. And I'm pretty sure that's a thing with most if not all animal species. Because I know for fucking certain its a thing for humans. Seriously! If you've ever worked with kids, those mfers have some seriously sharp chompers on them. I've never seen sharper human teeth than I have on a two year old toddler. they've given me BRUISES in a single bite.)

"I don't plan on being bitten by any Damians a day in my life, thank you very much, but I'll keep that in mind."

"Hn."

ALSO. i have more doodles

Over 900 prompt

Okay I love the Danny is a clone of Batman aus but I've never seen this done.

Danny and Kon dating and Then Danny learning his parents cloned Batman thinking he is a ghost only to find out he isn't and kept Danny as their kid.

Just think of the hilarious reactions

Caue this immediately popped into my head.

Kon: *muffled screaming into Tim's couch*

Tim: ....you good?

Kon: danny is the clone of Batman

Tim: ...

Kon: I'm the clone of Superman

Tim:...

Kon: AND WE ARE DATING!

[fraux140]

Some König Headcanons and Hottakes

So I want to preface this by saying no hate to anyone. These are just some opinions that I think some people might disagree with which is totally fine. This is also a little bit of me pointing out some of his flaws. I love him though.

He is not a shy little uwu boy who would have a panic attack if a cutie looked at him a certain way. If he was so prone to panic attacks and his anxiety was that crippling then he wouldn't have been in the special forces and he wouldn't be in a PMC - which are highly selective.

Personally I don't fully believe that he was a colonel. The only hint we have gotten of that is a one of the 'Bad Brothers' loading screens which just says 'Colonel König' with no more context. Colonels aren't really active on the battle field and it is very unlikely you would see one in action. Officers ranked that highly are seen as too valuable to be 'wasted' in infantry combat.

Continuing from my last point, even a lot of majors and Lt Colonels aren't battle prone. Considering he would have had to have passed through those ranks to become a colonel means that he would have spent a lot of time behind a desk and commanding teams such as platoons and battalions. We don't know enough about him to say that he isn't a good leader, after all he is simply an operator with a few paragraphs of text as a background. However, his voice lines and little text we do get about him tells us he is not one to enjoy standing by and having others fight on his command. He would MUCH rather be in the brawl.

And I know that Alejandro is a colonel and very active duty, however we can assume that this is largely due to his ambition and personal attachment to his home, which he wants to protect from the cartel. I'm not saying a colonel doesn't fight, but it is exceedingly rare.

My last anti-colonel theory point - why would a colonel wear such DIY gear? I just want to say if you hc him as a colonel that is absolutely FINE, those are just reasons as to why I don't :/

Moving on, I believe him to be a sore loser. For example, he was deemed unfit to be a sniper, and so he wears a sniper hood and has that voiceline "And they said I couldn't be a sniper". Dress for the job you want, not the job you have ig?

I believe he wants to prove people wrong. Getting rejected as a sniper wounded his ego so A LOT. I hc him to be between 32-37 and if he joined jagkdo/KSK (old bio said he was German and in the KSK, newer ones said Austrian and JagKdo, now there's no mention of sf so idk??) while he was younger, say around 23-26, he's had a lot of time for that wound to heal and yet it hasn't. This man holds hella grudges.

Because of this, I think that a fear of failure might also contribute to his anxiety. If he was asked about being scared to fail he'd smirk and say there was no way. But deep down in his core it eats away at him.

This might also bleed into his social life. He's fearful of relationships and remains single for a long time. He'd rather not ask you out instead of having you reject him for trying. He'd have to REALLY like somebody and also have some reassurance or signs that they liked him out.

Cannot accept accountability for simple mistakes. He knocked your coffee mug over? You shouldn't have left it there. Hit you a little too hard in training? You should be stronger. You should have dodged it. Not his fault you're not as good as him.

Is a show off. If he is obviously better at something then you'll never hear the end of it. Better driver? Better fighter. Yeah, he's bragging about it. Again, his fear of not being good enough rears its ugly head. He deflects it on to those who are weaker - they could never be him.

Damn this was a list of negatives, but I love him in spite of all of his flaws. What kind of list should I make next? I should probably do one with some positive traits lmao.

Anyway, I don't mind at all if anyone disagrees with these this is just how I see him. Maybe one day I'll write a fic where he acknowledges his demons and starts to heal.

[aziraphales-library]

Hey! Hope you’re having an amazing week!

I was wondering if you could recommend some kissing fics? That’s literally it haha, just a few fics featuring our favorite boys being in love and having a make out session.

Any ratings are fine with me!

Thank you!

Hi! You can check our #kissing tag for fics like this. Here are some more to add to the collection...

The Right Words by Justanothernerdsstuff (G)

Eventually, Aziraphale was able to find words. “You’re standing in the rain,” Not the right words, but something.

Crowley laughed in disbelief. “Yeah, angel. I am,” He ran his hand through his soaked hair.

Crowley shows up at the bookshop, and can't keep his feelings quiet any longer.

and as we kissed and said goodnight by decafrose (T)

“I just…well, I never quite got around to it,” Aziraphale said. “Is it nice?”

“I mean, sure. Yeah. S’fine.” Crowley shrugged. “Kind of exactly what you’d expect from putting your mouth on someone else’s. Depends on who it’s with, though, sometimes that makes all the difference.”

“Ah. Yes, I see how that would change things.”

Should I Write Us A Love Song, My Dear by animeangelriku (M)

Aziraphale loves kissing Crowley, and he will never tire of kissing Crowley, and he will keep saying so and kissing Crowley for as long as Crowley allows him to, and that’s that.

Crowley makes the sweetest sound when Aziraphale catches his tongue with the tiniest of nips, a devious, pleased smirk twisting the corner of his lips on their next kiss, a gesture that Aziraphale feels down to his bones, to his essence, to the very core of him, where Crowley has made his home.

The Kiss That Was No Oyster’s Fault by SeedsOfWinter (T)

What if Aziraphale and Crowley throughout the ages, but a first kiss of some kind always happens?

In Rome, Aziraphale and Crowley have time on their hands and oysters on their plates...

———

All the taverns in all the cities in all of Creation, and the demon slithered into Aziraphale’s.

There was no mistaking Crowley. All mourning black wrapped and hellfire haired, slouching towards inebriation, there could be no other. There never would be.

blow him a kiss (and you're mad) by orphan_account (T)

Crawly was gazing at Aziraphale with an untranslatable look on his face. His tongue darted out for a second, and his eyes flicked down to Aziraphale's lips.

So there was the translation.

OR

5 times Crowley and Aziraphale almost kissed and 1 time it finally happened.

did you ever fall in love (did you ever dream of falling?) by Imagined (T)

Crowley slides into the comfortable leather seat of the Bentley, the door falling shut behind him. The metallic thud is not enough to get him out of his stupor. He grasps the steering wheel and looks back to the bookshop, inhabiting one angel who - who just kissed a demon. Kissed him. Aziraphale kissed him.

“What the fuck?” he says to himself, and it takes him a full minute to remember that he has to start the car if he wants it to go. Even then, he just stares straight ahead, mouthing ‘what the fuck’ to himself a few more times.

The Bentley takes pity on him, and just drives itself home.

Or:

Five times Aziraphale kisses Crowley after the Armaggedidn't, and one time Crowley finally takes the hint and kisses Aziraphale back.

- Mod D

[hitchell-mope]

(Third film. After “who better than me”. The screen splits in two, similar to the end of Do You Wanna Build A Snowman from Frozen as Uma rushes to the door and pounds on it, crying her eyes out, begging Gil not to leave her as he runs away in a hurry)

Uma: GIL! GIL!!!! DON’T LEAVE ME!!!! I DONT WANT TO BE ALONE GIL!!!! PLEASE!!!! PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME!!!! I don’t want to be alone. I don’t like the dark.

(Meanwhile, in another part of the palace, the rest of The Royal Court are celebrating the completion of the rebuilding process. To that end. Mal and Jay have jumped up on the bar. This is when “if I didn’t have you” happens. After the song. Carlos shoos Mal and Jay off the bar, takes their place on it and addresses the others)

Carlos: yes, yes. We rebuilt everything. We’re so smart. We’re so happy. Yaaaay! But do we really want my mother hogging the karaoke machine? I think not.

Ben: low blow buddy.

Carlos: but true father. But. True. Now. Who wants ME to perform?

(Everyone cheers)

Carlos: good answer. Diego. With me.

(This is when “it’s all love” happens. After the song. Evie stands up and raises her glass to Carlos)

Evie: thank you for that C. Now who would like to hear me and Doug sing a real song?

Quinn: please.

Doug: how does no.20 sound?

Evie: I loooove no.20. Nobody join in. Just us two. Lonnie. Hit it.

(This is when “don’t go breaking my heart” happens. After the song)

Anthony: that was very nice guys. But how about we all have a go now?

Evie (whining): oh but why.

Mal: because he said so. You gotta respect your elders sis.

Anthony: hurtful.

Mal: ah but true.

Anthony:....yeah....Let’s see now. No.48? Carlos?

Carlos: that’ll do. Ma? Pa?

Ben: ooooh yes.

Mal: ‘bout time we did a group number.

Freddie: then let’s do it!

(Everyone looks at her quizzically)

Freddie: what? I haven’t said anything for a while.

Everyone: let’s do it!

(This is when “sing” happens. After the song. Hadie gently removes his hand from Anthony’s and approaches Mal)

Hadie: hey Mally can we talk?

Mal: hey bro. Wanna drink? We got beer, vermouth, whisky, vodka. Not gin because it Carlos nightmares. What’re you in the mood for?

Hadie: we need to talk about Harry.

(Mal’s hand, still holding her knife, zooms to a stop less than an inch above a martini olive. Thinking fast, Ben magic’s away the knife and every piece of sharp cutlery away from Mal)

Mal: thank you sweetheart. Could you um. Take everyone but uh the boys and Evie away somewhere else. Please?

Ben: as you wish. And Hadie.

Hadie: yeah?

Ben: you’ve fucked up. Again.

Hadie: yep.

(Ben teleports the others away, leaving Hadie alone with the core four)

Hadie: okay hear me out.

Mal: no.

Hadie: Mally please.

Mal: I said no Hadie. How many times do you want to say it? No. No. No. And no. Is that enough for you? Or maybe you want to hear it in a different language? No. Óchi. Non. Nō! Is that enough for you Hadie? Is it? Is that enough for you big brotha?

Jay: don’t do the accent. You sound like a chav.

Mal: right. Sorry.

Hadie: Mally please. He was our brother. The least we can do now that the trench has opened is go look for his remains.

Mal: no! It was your brother! Your fault! Your mistake! Not mine.

Hadie: what’s that supposed to mean?

Evie: believe me. You do not want to know.

Mal: we’re not looking for it. Because the current most likely scenario is that an angler fish has already found it, eaten it and she’s it out.

Hadie (nearing tears): don’t talk like that. Please don’t talk like that. Our brother deserves a fune-

(Mal let’s put a cold, high, piercing laugh that sends ice up everyone’s spine and she doesn’t stop until Hadie backs away)

Mal: you really think it deserves a funeral? Did Carlos to get chased down and slashed open with a hook when he was eleven years old? Did Ben deserve to be kidnapped and early just because of his connection to me? Don’t you dare tell me what it deserves. Because as far as I’m concerned. It already got what it deserved. And my only regret is that I didn’t kill it myself.

Hadie: you don’t mean that.

Carlos: the hell ahead doesn’t.

(He takes his shirt off)

Carlos: this right here on my back. Where it flayed me open like a haddock on a board. It’s been seven years and you still see the scars. Does that seem like the image of your brother that you had in your head? Does it Uncle Hadie?

Evie: I saved Carlos. I pulled Harry off of him. And broke Harry’s leg in two.

Jay: that’s why Mal let Evie into the gang.

Mal: after I kicked her into the barriers roof for tattling on us when we were eight.

Carlos: take a good look Uncle. This is what your precious innocent baby brother did to me.

Mal: just not the scar on his neck. That was all Cruella.

Hadie: why don’t you have a belly button?

Jay: our fault.

Mal: yeah. We were eight. We didn’t know what navels are because we don’t have them and we thought it was a wound. We vanished it.

Hadie: huh. Anyway, anyway. I’m begging you. Please. Allow a search for our brother’s remains so he can be properly buried.

Mal: no.

Hadie: why not?

Mal: because I didn’t like it. Ben didn’t like it. Jay, Carlos and Evie didn’t like it. Nobody liked it apart from you and dad.

Hadie: Uma liked him.

Mal: oh. I don’t see you beseeching her to throw it a funeral. Now I wonder why that is(?) Oh yes. Because YOU hate her. So you come crawling to me in the hopes that I’ll forget that I hate him once look into your sad, sad yellow eyes(.) You bet on the wrong dragon Haydes. Now get out of here before I horrifically lose my temper and conveniently forget that you’re my brother.

Jay (getting an idea): hey Mal. What if we....

(He leans over and whispers in Mal’s ear. As he does so Mal face splits into a very wide and very cruel Cheshire Cat grin)

Mal: ooooh. I like that. Yo Hadie. (She sends a stream of magic into Ben’s walk-in wardrobe)

Mal: though there you’ll find a little mock up theoretical funeral for Harry planned by us. But be warned. Once you’re there you can’t leave until the sequence is over.

(Hadie speeds through the door)

Mal (aside to the others): he is soooo gonna regret that. Let’s go.

(They all walk into Ben’s wardrobe. On the other side is a lavish outdoor funeral. Very traditional. Bright and sunny. Everyone is wearing black. A giant portrait of a bruised and battered Harry is hanging on a black velvet curtain behind a podium. Carlos steps up to the podium. This is when “homecoming” happens. After the song. Persey gets back to their family’s residence)

Persey: hey guys. Can’t stay long. Somethings up with u-Kay. What’s dad doing?

Persephone: Sherlocking it my dear. Your father is Sherlocking it.

Persey: not a word.

Persephone: right. Sorry. Your father is going through her brain in hopes of finding a memory of Harry being happy to see her.

Persey: why?

Persephone: she thinks she saw Harry earlier.

Persey: what?

Hades: I don’t think I saw him. I know I saw him floating across the courtyard. Not eight hours ago.

Persey: eight hours. Dad listen to me very carefully and think extremely hard. Where was “Harry” supposedly going?

Hades: to the enchanted lake.

Persey: right. Okay. Oh boy this is bad. This is very, very bad. Mom. Stop dad from trying to find Harry. By any means necessary. I gotta go.

Persephone: where are you going?

Persey (already running out the door): to circumvent disaster!

(On their way back the kings office Persey bumps into Gil who’s heading in opposite direction. The two of them spin around, holding onto each other’s arms until they settle down)

Persey and Gil: where’s Mal? How should I know? I just got back! I’m asking you! Stop copying me! Argh!

Persey: oh this isn’t gonna work!

(They spot Ben coming out of the castles bar)

Persey: BEN! Benbenbenben! Come with us!

Ben: whoah! What’s happening? Where are we going?

Persey and Gil: we’ll explain on the way!

(Back in the kings residence. Mal is at the bar, once again, pointedly ignoring her older brothers pained pleas)

Hadie: please Mally. Please. I know you can get Ben on side. I can do the rest.

Mal: Carlos. You and Doug have been reading up on dimensions of magic. Do you know if a god can be executed?

Carlos: yes. But they’d reconstitute in ten working days.

Mal: good. If Hadie keeps bleating then we can hang him.

Hadie: you don’t mean that.

Carlos: oooh but she does.

Hadie: no. No I refuse to believe that. If she didn’t feel anything about our brother dying she wouldn’t have those tears in her eyes CHRIST!!!!

(Mal’s had enough and thrown a bottle of bourbon at Hadie that narrowly misses shatters against the wall behind him)

Mal: ENOUGH HADIE!!!! ENOUGH!!!! OKAY!!!! ENOUGH!!!! WE HATED IT!!!! WITH EVERY FIBRE OF OUR BEINGS WE HATED IT!!!! AND RIGHT NOW-oh my god Carlos! I am so sorry!

(She rushes over to Carlos and pulls him into a crushing hug)

Carlos (unaffected but embarrassed): I’m okay, ma. Ma, I’m okay. Finish what you were doing.

Mal: are you sure?

Carlos: yes. I’m sure.

Mal: okay.

(She uses magic to throw Hadie throw the wall. Next thing he knows, Hadie’s falling through the blackness until he lands in a void filled with the rotting corpses of Harry Hook)

Mal (her skin green and covered in scales, her horns large and curling outwards, her hair and dress purple flame, walking through the corpses and tearing them apart like tissue paper as her voice reverberates inside of Hadie’s head): you want ussss to locate and hold a funeral for a dead basssstard who we hated and who hated ussss! And after all of thissss I have. Jusssst. One. Quesssstion.

Hadie (on his knees, his hands covering his ears and sobbing his eyes out): WHAT?!?! WHAT?!?! WHAHAHAT?!?!

(The illusion ends and they’re back in the kings residence)

Mal: why?

Hadie (still shuddering in terror): huh?

(This is when “requiem” happens. After the song. Ben, Gil and Persey rush in, panicked and very, very scared)

Gil: is everyone okay?

Mal: yeah. Yeah I um. I just had a little tiff with my big brother.

Carlos: the moron thought he could beg us to look for hook’s corpse.

Gil (chuckling nervously): about that....heheh.

(Cut to the Enchanted Lake)

Mal (from hundreds of miles away): WHAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

(Back in the palace. Mal and Gil are running at full speed towards Milo’s offices. On their way they pass Ben’s Ego and Mal’s Id)

Ego: this is really bad isn’t it?

Id: oh honey. Only for Uma. For us it’s all going to be wildly entertaining.

(He looks directly at the audience again)

Id: enjoy.

(Mal and Gil are greeted by Facillier at Milo’s observation office. Through the two way mirror Mal can clearly see the spectral Harry floating around Uma’s terrified head)

Mal: shit.

Gil: he really is back then.

Facillier: not fully your highness. Nothing more than a ghost.

Mal: a poltergeist you mean.

Facillier: you need your fix this your grace.

Mal: not Celia. Not my problem. By the way. How the hell can you see it?

Facillier: I was dead once. The after effects are exceedingly long lasting.

Mal: oh.

Facillier: and yes you do need to help my daughter. You’re family. And this is what family does for each other.

Mal: oh god how did this happen?

(This is when “the kids aren’t alright” happens. After the song. Ben walks into his office to find Mal, Evie, Hades, Persephone and the twins lined up in front of his desk in military fashion)

Ben: not that I don’t like a nice family meeting but why do you all look like you’re waiting for me to tell you to activate the Zords and stop Emperor Grumm?

Mal: Persey and Gil were right. Harris a ghost and it’s haunting Uma.

Ben: ah. Wait. If this is about Uma why is Evie here?

Doug: Persey’s holding her sewing machine hostage.

Ben: that’s fair. Okay so. What’s the first order of business? Oh and uh. At ease.

(The gods and demigods relax)

Mal: we need to figure out how it came back.

Doug: Carlos thought it was the black cauldron.

Hadie: but I deactivated it when we won.

Ben: how so?

Hadie: I’m a god. I jumped into it then reconstituted a few seconds later.

Ben: if you say so Captain Jack. Right then. Any other theories?

Persey: oh no. Oh nononononono

Mal: what?

Persey: I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

Ben: what Persey? What is it?

Persey: I think it was me. I think I left The Door open when I sent Verna to asphodel during the Processing.

Ben: right....

Mal (thinking quickly): Pain! Panic!

Pain and Panic: princess?

Mal: go to the underworld. Check and double check every door and opening. Make sure none of the dead can get through. We can’t risk any more leakages.

(The imps disappear)

Mal: Boss. Take dad and Hadie back to Olympus please.

Persey (nearing tears): Mal I am so-

Mal: it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about that. This is just a precaution. We can’t afford to have them trying to talk to it.

Persey: right.

(They teleport themselves, Hades and Hadie back home)

Ben: good thinking Mal.

Mal: thanks.

Doug: what do we do about Uma though?

Evie: I say we kill her. We can use your axe.

Mal: shaddup Evie. We’re not doing that. We’ll have to isolate her in her suite

Ben: are you sure?

Mal: yes. No. I don’t know. All I know is we can’t have Uma walking around until we get rid of the ghost floating about her head. We need to protect her as well as everybody else. Because if she finds a way to bring it back. We are all screwed.

(In Uma’s suite. She’s shivering with terror as Harry’s ghost gently unravels her now fully lavenderbraids. This is when “it’s a dangerous game” happens. After the song. Uma wrests herself away from his grip)

Uma: you’re not here. You can’t be here. You’re dead. I saw you die. You’re dead!

Harry: I know that. Why’d ya think I ain’t got legs? But you can fix that.

Uma (covering her ears with her hands in a futile effort to block Harry out): you’re not here. You’re not here. You’re not here. You’re not here.

Harry (taking Uma’s hands off of her ears): oh but I am. You can’t escape this Uma. I need to come back. To prove them wrong. To prove my bitch sister wrong. We need each other.

Uma: NO!

(She turns towards the mirror but she can still see Harry. This is when “my demons” happens. After the song. In the infirmary. Mal, Gil, Freddie and Celia are watching as Uma gets sedated)

Gil: is he still here?

Mal: yep.

Celia: I told her. Back in Arendelle. I fucking told her this would kill her.

Freddie: what’s happening to my sister?

Mal: Harry’s back. He’s haunting Uma. And what the hell do you mean by you said that what would kill her?

Celia: she tried to switch her magic from sea witch to voodoo.

Mal: shit.

Freddie: I’m not following. Like. At all.

Odie: there’s a hierarchy to magic.

Mal: yeah. Gods, genies and dark fae are like the top three.

Odie: correct child. Vooodoo is near the bottom. Just above regular, run of the mill witches.

Freddie: but Diego? And Ben, Lonnie, Doug and Gil?

Odie: magic can be given sweetness. Either willingly or unconsciously.

Mal: like that that tornado I made that turned Ben into Hybrid?

Odie: correct again. You’re good at this your maj.

Mal: yeah well between Doug and the library I learnt a lot. 

Celia: and those exosuits from before?

Odie: same principle. It was Mal, Jay, Jane and Evie, and later Ben, granting magic to those without.

Mal: what does Uma need right now?

Freddie: what makes you think my grandmother knows?

Mal: it’s her modus operandi. Ditch the shallow and jump right into the deep end. But please don’t be cryptic. I am not in the mood for that right now.

Odie: simply put. One of em needs to let go. And since Harold Icarus Hook-

Celia: Harriet.

Mal: what?

Celia: Harriet named him after her. So technically his legal name is Harriet Hook Junior.

Mal: whoa....

Odie: indeed. So since Harriet Icarus Hook is the one haunting my eldest granddaughter, showing a truly breathtaking degree of stubbornness even among pirates.

Mal: it has to be Uma. Excuse me.

(She teleports into the dungeon. Once there she uses telekinesis to crash Cj’s head into the bars four times before throwing her into the back wall)

Cj: what the HELL!?!?

Mal: yo Harriet!

(Harriet cowers in fear until Mal holds her hand out for a fist bump. Which Harriet gladly acquiesces to)

Cj: what was that for?

Mal: feeling generous today. What’s that smell?

Cj: our lavatory situation.

Mal: I told you where the bathroom is.

Cj: we’re on protest.

Mal: stanking up the cell the pair of you gave to live in isn’t going to punish US. Just you. Both of you remember this. Behind that wall, middle stone in the centre panel, is a bathroom. Full amenities. Including two walk in wardrobes. One for each of you. Everything is self replenishing.

Cj: why didn’t you tell us this before?

Mal: we did. You’re just pricks.

(With that she teleports back to the infirmary and into the fire)

Mal: oh god what now?

Ella: she just started seizing. We don’t know why.

Mal: I think I do. Uma. Uma can you hear me. Cuz-zen

(Uma spits at Mal)

Mal: I’m guessing this is Harry.

Uma (in Harry’s voice): took long enough ya bitch. DONT FUCKING LOOK AT HER YOU BLOODY TRAITOR!!!!

(Gil cowers and turns towards the wall)

Mal: it’s okay Gil. Uma’s strapped down. Hook can’t hurt you. What do you want with our cousin?

Uma (still in Harry’s voice): just her.

(Both Harry and Uma’s voices scream in unison. A thick plume of blood red smoke shoots out of Uma’s mouth which results in her vanishing into the ether)

Mal: find her! Find her NOW!

(She heads to Ben’s office only to find him waiting for her at the closed door)

Ben: we have a slight problem.

Mal (exhausted): another one?

Ben: yeah.

(He opens the door to find Maddie and Quinn standing in front of the desk looking excited)

Ben: they refused to leave until they talked to us together.

Mal (aware of the insanity that’s about to unfold): oh boy. Let’s get started then.

Maddie: why is a raven like a writing desk!

Ben: because Edgar Allen Poe wrote on both. What was it you wanted to talk about?

Quinn: Maddox and I have a theory.

Ben (though an incredibly forced smile): about what?

Maddie: the daughter of the sea and the shadows.

Quinn: not the diminutive pain in the ass. The demented one.

Mal (aside to Ben): well ain’t that just the pot calling the kettle black?

Ben (the incredibly forced smile still plastered on his face): shush.

Mal: so. About Uma?

Quinn: ready?

Maddie: indubitably.

(This is when “white rabbit” happens. After the song. Maddie and Quinn turn around to find that Ben and Mal have teleported away. Back at the kings residence. Ben and Mal run into their personal staff)

Mal: Ebsen. Jimmy. Um. It’s Monday isn’t it?

Ebsen: yes ma’am.

Jimmy: shall we split off and commence with the weekly appointment?

Mal (cursing her and Ben’s luck): oh this is gonna be difficult.

Ben: could we reschedule for next Monday? You’ll be paid double for this week.

Jimmy: as you wish sir.

(The buffalo and chameleon leave, passing Gil on the way out)

Gil: what were the Mannings doing dressed like that?

Ben: Monday appointment.

Gil: Mr Manning was dressed as a chippendales extra.

Mal (bursting into comical tears): I KNOW!!!!

Ben (comforting her): it’s okay. It’s okay.

Gil: isn’t this like really ethically dubious? I mean. Ebsen is Mal’s lady’s maid and Jimmy’s your personal valet.

Ben: tell that to Lonnie, Jane, Doug and Jay. And besides. Once word got out about mine and Mal’s “interests”. It was only a matter of time before someone wanted to capitalise on it. Who better than a Sherwood chameleon and a Zootopia buffalo? And besides. It’s just a couples massage.

Gil (smelling bullshit but wanting to drop the issue): touché.

Mal (regathering herself): what’s wrong?

Gil: Evie’s been, what’s the word, scrying but she can’t find Uma.

Ben: course she can’t. She doesn’t care about Uma.

Mal: we just have to think. Where would a Harry possessed Uma go?

Ben: where he died.

Gil: looks like Hadie’s getting his wish after all.

Mal: not if we have to do with it. Cmon Gil. Let’s go.

(She sprouts wings and starts flying to the Mariana Trench)

Gil: léviter et voler

(He starts floating and follows Mal)

Ben: good luck. You’re gonna need it.

(The screen cuts to Uma walking towards the ocean. Her hair is completely lilac and her eyes are blood red from pupil to sclerae. She’s being followed by Mal and Gil in an aerial pursuit. This is when “boulevard of broken dreams” happens. After the song. Gil and Mal land in the bottom of the Mariana Trench. And stop to catch their breath)

Gil: What the. How?

Mal: air pocket. It won’t last long though.

Gil: but we have magic. We can breathe underwater.

Mal: not if we’re unconscious. And if trillions upon gazillions of water comes crashing down on our heads.

Gil: we’ll be puréed.

Mal: yup. Hold on. Lemme try something. In order to help us

accomplish our deed/Give us all the air we shall need

(They breathe in deeply)

Gil: thank you.

Mal: hopefully it works. Let’s go.

(They head down further into the trench until the finally find Uma. And it looks like she’s about to perform a resurrection ceremony)

Gil: what the hell?

Mal: she can’t be.

Harry (on Mal’s right): oh but she is. 🎶And you’re too late🎶 ACK!

(Mal’s reached out and grabbed Harry by the throat with her dragon paw hand. And she’s digging her claws into his translucent skin)

Harry (struggling to breathe): h-how? I’m-

Mal: dear. Yeah. Funny thing about that. Your mother, my father, is hades. So not only can I see you. I can beat you up.

(She proceeds to do just that. All set to jaunty circus music. By the end Harry’s got bruises and cuts all over his body and his face is flushed with what would most likely be blood if he were still alive. But since he’s dead. It just looks like squid ink is flooding his face)

Mal: now. Let. Our cousin. Go.

Harry: fuck you.

Mal (kicking him in the face): LET OUR COUSIN GO!!!!

Harry: NO!!!!

Gil: Uma if you’re listening you can still stop this. Harry’s dead. And I get it. You’re grieving. But you can’t do whatever it is you’re doing. Wait. What is she doing?

Mal: trying to bring him back. Use big voodoo magic. And if Celia’s right. It’ll kill her.

Gil: oh god. You FUCKING PALOOKA HARRY!!!! LET HER GO!!!! YOU LET HER GO RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!!!!

Harry (slowly floating around Gil’s head): I’m sorry Gilly. I need to come back. She needs me. We need to each other

Mal: no the fuck she doesn’t. She has her father. And her grandmother. And her sisters. And Ned Thatch.

Harry: a prince? Oh please. She’s better than that.

Mal: She’s better than you. She found the better option.

Gil: UMA! Listen to me! You don’t need to do this! Bringing Harry back will kill you!

(At this point Una turns to Gil. Her eyes are still completely blood red)

Uma (smiling cruelly): I want to.

(Mal decides to try a different route. This is when “nothing left to lose” happens. After the song. Harry, still reforming, laughs smugly at Mal. Which causes her to lose the last of her patience)

Mal: if that’s the way you want to play it. Then fine. Let’s play. 

(She screams in fury, sprouts her wings, bursts the cage open, and stalks over to her dead brother. This is when “trouble” happens. After the song. Harry’s a ghost again. A beaten, bloodied ghost. However. The clearing is starting to shake. And water is starting to pour in)

Mal: Gil. Be a dear and carve the perimeter please.

Gil: on it.

Mal: now brother. Back to you.

(She steps on Harry’s arm, crushing it beneath her foot and crouches down to look him in the eyes. This is when “skyfall” happens)

[sereiaxz]

Im gonna be mean here but like... Jiang Cheng shouldnt have done that lol his priority was his sister to be safe (not gonna go in there but yeah many bad things could happened to Yanli without the boys) they could have been on the run to reach Carp Tower and ask them to receive them for some time, it was one of the few relatively safe places) because Jiang Cheng all he did was to fault Wei Wuxian in everything instead being helpful, yes he lost his parents, yes he saw their bodies and witnessed a lot of horrible things, but Yanli and Wei Ying did too. I HATE that WWX has to carry with weight he doesnt deserve, and here Jiang Cheng follows his mother steps and does stuff like "im gonna give MYSELF in his place" BEING AWARE that doing he was going to be tortured, OBVIOUSLY losing his golden and its just a big no from me okay. Dude didnt give a shit at all so when WWX got help from Wen Qing and Wen Ning got just a petty and cruel reason to keep being a bad person towards the one he supposedly loved.

No he is not a hero for "sacrifice himself." Because at the end of the day, his irresponsible decisions will always lead WWX to do WORSE decisions for the sake of others. Because JC knows that. Does he take advantage of WWX devotion towards the Jiang Sect? Not sure. I dont think JC is a villain, he takes reckless choices in the name of the abuse Madam Yu did towards WWX (aware or not) trip-guilting him forever to do things out from the love WY felt towards them with the name of "you owe this to us forever."

And even when he comes to know abt the golden core transfer, he continues to guilt Wei Ying.

In conclusion, THIS is JC biggest mistake he ever did.

Jiang Cheng & Wei Wuxian | Episode 50

[chronosaurusnot]

VIP boy

pairing: dom!bangchan x bratty sub!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2.1k

warnings: +18, night club, mentions of alcohol, teasing (with minho), jealousy, possessiveness, bratty behavior, explicit sexual content, bathroom sex, choking, pet names, degrading, slight humiliation, fingering, oral sex (m), rough sex, unprotected sex (stay safe please), cumming, creampie

note: so the original idea was a request from my friend about chan in a night club, but after that teaser i can't get out of my mind that scene of him choking hyunjin from behind. so, this is a mix of both things, i hope you like it!

as always, i’d like to clarify that english is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any mistakes, and feel free to give me suggestions<3

-----------

you ended up in the night club again with your friends; another night when you don’t know why you are there. it’s been a rough week, full of work and with stressful exams, so your friends insisted on getting you out to distress yourself a little bit. but between the time you’ve spent on getting ready plus all the sweaty people pushing you all around right now, you could swear you would’ve been better in your bed watching a movie or something, or even sleeping. it’s been already an hour maybe? you don’t know so you go straight to the bar to get some drink to see if time gets faster; hopefully it’ll make you less grumpy.

but when you are there, you see him on the vip section of the first floor. chan is there with his friends, talking and looking good as he always does. you start feeling like the night could maybe get a little more interesting, but when you get to see him talking with a girl that feeling changes to anger. sure, you agreed on being friends with benefits -if that was even a title or smt- so you both could be with anyone else you wanted, always respecting each other. so if he didn’t know you were there, in the same way you didn’t know he was coming too, it was okay if he wanted to be with someone else, right? but all the logic didn’t seem to care to your emotions, because you were now in a horrible mood.

you took your drink from the bar and drank it in less than a minute without taking your eyes off him and that girl. that dumb girl, she really thinks he’s hers tonight. but it’s stupid to feel like fighting over a man, so you get your mind clear and go back with your friends to tell them what you just saw to laught about it.

but when you look up again, you see chris leaning on the railing looking at you. he smiles when he notices your stare and waves at you, and after you wave back he makes gestures to let you know you can go there with them. you really wanted to play hard but you go there with your friends, following his instructions like a puppy obeys his owner.

“hey princess, you didn’t tell me you were coming” he greets you with a smile on his face. “yeah, the girls insisted on going out to destress a little bit, but i think i would have been better sleeping” you answer, trying to hide your growing excitement to see him there. “oh don’t be grumpy y/n, it’s early, we can still have a good night” he said in a cute and smirky way, an attitude that you hated and loved at the same time.

“yes i see you were already having a good time” you answer, and chris looks kinda confused. you point with your eyes to the girl he has been talking to, and he smirks at your reaction. “don’t be jealous princess, i was just talking”

you rolled your eyes at his stupid answer, and he just smiles. you hated how flirty he was and his fuck boy vibes, but there was something about him that eventually made you like him; maybe way too much. it all started as just a sex partner, but since day one you discover he was actually a super sweet, caring and fun guy, so you got really atractted to him in a matter of time. friends with benefits sounded right for both of you, but you always wanted more from him. maybe it’s his fault, cause he’s always giving you everything you want, but not only sexually; he is a pleasant man, you know he would give and do anything for his girl. and you wanted to be that girl. his only one.

and especially tonight. how could someone be so fine? he was all in black as always: black pants, black leather jacket and a black silk shirt that let you see his whole chest. “what a fucking fuck boy” you said to yourself, trying to hate him.

“what do you wanna drink, babygirl?” chan said, bringing you back from your thoughts. “your favourite one?” he continued while taking off his wallet from his pocket. you knew he was just doing it to show his hands; chan knew exactly the power his hands hold on you.

“yes, please” he smiles at your answer and goes to the bar for your drink.

but as soon as he goes, minho comes to you. “come on change that shitty face and dance a little y/n” he says while grabbing you from your arms to force you to dance with him. he takes you maybe way too closer to his body considering he is chris’s friend. but you think to yourself that maybe it’s a good idea; using this to get chan’s attention, to look at you, to make him jealous, and taking advantage to dance with a man so fine like minho. you wouldn’t be with him, sure, he is his friend; but it would be nice to at least flirt with him a little bit.

you sincerely got lost while dancing with him, so close to each other; till you notice chan looking at you both while leaning on the railing with the two cups on his hands. he looks at you in a challenging way, like wanting to see how far you can go.

and you accept the challenge, getting minho even closer to your body without cutting the eye contact with chris; you can see how his eyes turned darker, and you just smirk at his reaction. you dance a couple more minutes with minho, his hands on your waist, yours on his neck; after deciding it was enough teasing, you go back to chan playing the innocent. “he was helping me to cut out the bad mood, he’s so sweet. thank you for the drink channie”

“yeah i see, you should hang out with him.” he answers, his look darker; you prouder. “oh you think so? i mean, he seems to want to help me out to not be bored.” you answer, loving to see how your dumb plan worked.

“oh you just want to have fun, mh?” he says in a dark way, making you feel nervous and taking a big sip from your drink. “i know a place when you could have fun”.

you finished your drink in a couple of seconds, so he just takes your cup away from your hand. “why don’t you follow me, princess?”

he lefts the cups in the table, and takes you by the hand to guide you through the place. he talked to you calmly, but you knew he wasn’t not only because of the way he looked at you, but also cause he was holding you rough.

“get in, princess” chris says, letting you place to came in the bathroom. you get shocked; is a public space, but you are feeling so aroused with this situation that you just got in. chan locks the door behind you and turns you around to put you against it, resting his hand above you.

“you’ve been such a bratty, babygirl” he says, using his free hand to caress your cheek, slowly moving down to your neck. “if you were just bored, you should have told me instead of acting like a slut with my friend” chan continues while adding pressure on your neck, making you shut your legs from the feeling. he notices it and smirks in a mocking way. “are you already turned on, y/n? are you that desperate?”

he keeps on adding pressure, driving you crazy. you felt your panties getting wetter as every second passed by. so you decided to keep pushing his limits. “you’re not the only one who pays attention to me, chris. you should try better” his smile turns devilish.

“do you want me to remind you how good i fuck you, y/n?” he keeps choking you, but uses his other hand to touch you under your skirt. “do you want me to remind you whose name you repeat endless times while moaning?” he moves your panties to a side and start touching your pussy while still choking you, making you moan at the feeling of his cold hands rubbing against your clit. he laughs mockingly again at your desperate face.

“did you get this wet while dancing with minho? do you prefer his fingers over mine?” he never desease the smirk on his face, his nose touching yours and the feeling of his heavy breathing so close to you while you were cutted out of air made you go crazy. but you let out a moan after he gets two fingers inside you, making him laugh again.

“tell me, princess. tell me whose are you” you wanna answer, but he curls his fingers inside you while increasing his pace and makes you even harder to breathe. “i’m yours” you answer, and he takes his fingers out of you to put them in your mouth. you suck them instinctively, keeping eye contact with him, seeing the arousal in his eyes.

“you’re mine, y/n. no one else” you keep sucking on his fingers while his other hand finally moves from your neck to your waist, getting you closer to him. he softly moans at the feeling of his hardened dick rubbing against your hot core. “you are my baby slut, and the only one i want to please”

that was everything you needed to hear for being now completely at his will. the only thing you wanted was to be his only girl, the only one who he pleases, the only one who pleased him. you were feeling more desperate than ever now, getting crazier at the way he was rubbing his bulge against you in such a needy way, with both of his hands now on your hips, guiding you to make the touch rougher.

you remove his jacket and your eyes travel all over his chest, revealed by the thin silk. one of your hands caresses his chest, shoulders and neck, while the other one unzips his pants to get his cock out, making him moan louder at the feeling of your skin. “let me please you too, chris” you tell him in a whiny voice that makes him shiver.

you kneeled before him, and as soon as your lips touched the tip of his cock he rested both of his hands on the door that was behind you, moving his head backwards between deep groans.

“you’re such a pretty slut for me, y/n” he says and you speed up your pace. he starts to feel uncomfortable in any position, battling his urge to cum only to have you sucking on his dick for a longer time.

just when you feel his precum in your mouth he lifts you up, getting his eyes teary due to the denied orgasm. “turn around, princess. i’m not over yet”.

chan pushes your body against the door, guiding your ass close to him and lifting your skirt. he kisses your neck before pulling his cock inside you, making you both moan at the feeling of your stretched and wet pussy. “tell me who can fuck you this good, y/n?” he says while keeping a painful fast speed, tears forming in your eyes from the intense excitement.

“are you still thinking in minho, mh?” he says while he chokes you from behind, the other hand guiding your hips to move on his cock even harder. “tell me again, babygirl, who do you belong to?”

the feeling of his fast and hard pace, his hand holding you hard from your hips, his other hand cutting your air, his heavy breathing on your neck, his possessiveness, his moans; everything was making you feel extremely sensitive, desperate for a release of the tension that’s been building up. “you, o-only to you” you cried out in a broken voice.

his now clumsy moves showed you he was close too, getting weak to your submission. “only mine, y/n. f-fuck.” his last words whispered in your ear made you hit your orgasm. the feeling of your release all over his cock made him cum inside you, groaning your name in a completely fucked up way.

after a moment to catch up your breaths, he turned you back, facing you with a relaxed smile. “you’re still my girl after this, y/n. and i’ll always please my girl.”

[ayamturd]

trapped│bench trio hc

warnings: mentions of imprisonment, exhaustion, ranboo lore, angst

prompt: (requested) “can i request a platonic!bench trio x teen!reader (individually) where they find out you got trapped in the prison with dream?”

pairings: in-game platonic! tubbo, tommyinnit, ranboo

a/n: i tried to experiment with writing more dialogue for this hc, pls feel free to always give feedback!

wc: (1.6k) - m.list

tubbo - 

“No.”

“Tubbo, I’m so sorry but i-”

“You’re wrong,” Tubbo cuts Sam off, shaking his head widely in refusal to the news. He slowly backs away as Sam tries to approach him. “They’re not- no. They can’t be, Sam, there must be some mistake.”

Sam is at a loss, his concern for the boy present, and attempts to raise his hands cautiously out with soft eyes; Tubbo is in panic, and he needs him to calm down.

“Tubbo…”

“I just saw them yesterday, surely-”

“Tubbo, please.”

Tubbo would refuse to accept that fact for what it was

can’t stand to look at the prison, the sight of it haunting him

will ignore the topic altogether and try to change the conversation if someone mentioned you

if they were persistent and didn’t pick up on the fact that he didn’t want to think about it, he’d snap

people always assume that Tubbo is a happy, emotionally driven person; while they’re not completely wrong, he’s extremely closed off to his trauma and knows how to put up a convincing front

that being said, the idea of you trapped with someone who is at the core of his past pain is unsettling to him

he’s trying but failing to pretend like everything’s okay, because everything’s not okay and he feels helpless to the idea that he might be at fault for it all again

make no mistake, he does care for you, but the fact that he cares so much makes it where he doesn’t want to believe something so awful can be true

Ranboo will quickly pick up on what he’s trying to do, and will go along with it for his sake; everyone deals with their trauma and hard news differently, Tubbo especially

Tommy, however, is too upset to notice and reacts impulsively to Tubbo’s reaction

they both clash: Tubbo refusing to address what happen, and Tommy emotionally sensitive when believing Tubbo doesn’t care

his anxieties would build up until one day he just falls apart

“Tubbo?”

They had been walking and collecting more material for their most recent build when Tubbo stopped, Ranboo pausing once realizing he had fallen behind. 

“Tubbo, what’s wrong?” Following his line of sight, Ranboo sighed once seeing your house; despite looking untouched in the time you’ve been gone, something just felt off when knowing you weren’t there. Ranboo patted his shoulder gently before tugging him away.

“Let’s go, man. They’re probably out right now.” There was a beat of silence, and Tubbo eventually responded in a weak voice. 

“No.” Ranboo picked up on the hostility in his tone and spoke with caution to his obvious upset.

“...Tubbo?”

“They’re gone,” Tubbo croaked, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes as he bit his lip roughly. Ranboo tried to console him, but it didn’t help stop the pain. “They’re trapped and I- I just can’t…”

Ranboo was at a loss for words, for Tubbo couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

he misses you, and doesn’t want to accept that there’s a reason he should miss you

tommy - 

“You’re lying.” Ranboo glanced down, his fingers fidgeting together harshly as he struggled to come to terms with the news himself.

“I’m not,” he mumbled, his voice weak in comparison to Tommy’s usual blunt tone. “I’m sorry but it’s the truth.”

Tommy’s breathing hitched from Ranboo’s words, the truth quite evident in his wavering tone and the fact that this was no joking manner. 

Eyes wide, Tommy was frozen to the truth and fear that slowly washed over him, life practically spitting in his face for how cruel the world could truly be to those young on the smp. 

“I know this is really hard to process but we have to be hopeful that everything will turn out okay-” With a shove to Ranboo’s outreached hand, Tommy turned and bolted away, his emotions running high and the situation too painful to admit. There was no ‘okay’ in this reality, you were stuck with Dream and they couldn’t do anything about it. 

Tommy was angry to say the least

he channeled his fear into his drive, but knowing you were trapped with the manic that broke him down and manipulated him for weeks on end completely offset his focus

he didn’t want sympathy, he wanted to get you out of the damn prison

while he’s usually caring to how others may feel and adjust his attitude to them, he couldn’t care much besides the amount of anger he manifested

he’d snap at anyone that tried to console him, yell at others that seemed like they showed no real concern over your absence, and most of all, he’d blame those that tried to downplay the situation

Sam was the center of his rage; Tommy couldn’t stand the thought that Sam sat there and possibly did nothing to prevent your current state

Tommy would close himself off and push everyone away; it felt wrong to act like nothing was wrong when you weren’t there

he can’t stand the idea that everyone’s okay when you’re not, and it follows him to the point where he wishes he was in your place instead 

“Tommy.” Puffy’s stern voice startled him, and he flinched with tired eyes from his spot above on the small hill. 

“You shouldn’t torture yourself like this.” 

Tommy clenched his jaw from her words, her concern valid but useless to his main reason standing watch over the prison. With a shake to his head, he tried to wave her off. 

“I’m not,” he mumbled, “I need to be here.” With a sigh, Puffy crouched down next to him and moved his chin towards her, eyebrows furrowed as she took in his tired eyes and the bags that hung beneath them. He was pushing himself too much. 

“But you don’t, Tommy. You shouldn’t be the one to burden yourself like this.” Trembling lips and narrowed eyes, Tommy broke down. Puffy was quick to grab hold of him, trying to steady his distraught state when he lost his footing. 

“Why couldn’t it have been me?” he cried, his eyes squeezed shut as he dug his head deeper into Puffy’s arms. “Why isn’t it me?”

Puffy couldn’t do anything but squeeze the boy tighter. 

Tommy was a force to be reckoned with when things involve his friends, and the fact that he couldn’t help you essentially tore him to bits

ranboo - 

“Are you alright, Ranboo?” 

Ranboo looks ahead, but avoids Sam’s wavering eyes as indelicately as he can. He doesn’t want to show his real emotions to the news; he doesn’t want Sam to feel worse for the situation as is. 

“Y-yeah, yeah, I’ll be alright. Mhm.” Nodding stiffly, Ranboo’s voice pitches higher than what it usually is, but he pretends it doesn’t faze him while rubbing his hands anxiously together. 

His head snaps up when Sam speaks, his ears twitching once recognizing the painful guilt in the creeper hybrid’s voice. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry I let this happen.”

“It’s okay, Sam. I don’t blame you.”

While Ranboo chose not to look directly at Sam, he emphasized his point a final time, his thoughts lost in thought of the real guilty party.

“I don’t blame you at all.”

oh Ranboo

he would be concerned for other’s reactions to the news, first and foremost

he’s the type of person to put people above his own needs, he puts other’s take on the news before his own

will comfort Tubbo to the best of his abilities by distracting him

though Tommy tries to push everyone away, Ranboo will find ways to help, whether that be letting him yell his heart out when he’s upset or putting a blanket over him when he passes out after watching the prison overnight

you were one of the few people that understood his main values and always treated him well; he’s close to you, and would have probably told you about Dream’s internal torment over him

because of this, knowing that you were trapped with Dream made him feel like he had some involvement with it, that he’s at fault somehow

he puts others before him because he feels guilty, like he needs to redeem others for something he possibly did

no one knows of your status, of how you’re doing in there alone with Dream, but he fears the worst and rattles himself down to the bone

when he’s with Tubbo, he’s able to play along and put up a front too: pretend nothing is wrong and not be faulted for it

but when he’s alone, he’s spiraling and has no one there to wake him up

“I let this happen.” Ranboo was pacing, his voice echoing in the dimly light room while his thoughts rang loudly in his head. He could stand still, for he was too anxious and unnerved by the recent events.

“I’m the reason, I’m the reason they’re trapped. I did this.” 

Lifting his hands to his head, Ranboo began to pull at his hair, pushing pressure to the stress he had created upon himself. Before he could demean himself further, however, another voice spoke up. One familiar and one thought gone.

“You’re right Ranboo.”

Pausing, Ranboo froze in horror to Dream’s taunting statement. He pushed his hands against his ears, desperate for the voice to go away.

“No…”

“You did this to them, and they’re stuck with me now.”

“N⍜”

“Can you hear their screams?”

“⌇⏁⍜⌿ ⟟⏁.”

“They’re mine to play with. Because of you.”

“⏚⟒☊⏃⎍⌇⟒ ⍜⎎ ⋔⟒. ⟟⏁'⌇ ⋔⊬ ⎎⏃⎍⌰⏁, ⟟⏁'⌇ ⋔⊬ ⎎⏃⎍⌰⏁, ⟟⏁'⌇ ⋔⊬ ⎎⏃⎍⌰⏁ ⟟⏁'⌇ ⋔⊬ ⎎⏃⎍⌰⏁-”

people are more important than any goal or belief, and Ranboo stands by this when he vows to end Dream himself

[1plus1kiyoomi]

p*$$y fairy #1

iwaizumi x f!reader

now playing: p*$$y fairy (otw) by vedo

warnings: smut, f!masturbation, phone sex kinda, overstimulation, creampie (please practice protected sex) message me if i missed anything

“You know I love fucking you, cause I stroke with intentions. Bet I make you remember baby how I made you cum for me. Well I guess it's looking like you're stuck with me.”

You know it’s wrong. You know you should stop. You know you’re not supposed to think about it, about him. That night was a mistake. It should not have happened. You both promised to not talk about it to avoid complications at work.

But you can’t stop thinking about that night, especially now that you have your fingers in your underwear, clumsily rubbing your clit for satisfaction. You whine, not able to feel any pleasure from your soft pads.

“Iwaizumi...” You groan loudly and shamelessly. You’re on your own in your apartment, doors locked and curtains closed. No one can hear you, that’s for sure.

“Hajime,” you moan his name, tracing your slit with your forefinger, teasing your own entrance.

This is all his fault. This is all Iwaizumi Hajime’s fault. If only the athlete trainer didn’t fuck you so good that night, then maybe you wouldn’t struggle with making yourself cum. He did you that good.

Everything he did was just perfect. The way he entered you, pounded into you, ate you, fingered you—everything. The amount of times you came for him in a single night is impossibly possible but satisfyingly painful.

Your phone rings, and you choose to ignore the first time. The second time, you reach for your phone in annoyance. You answer the call, your fingers still playing with your folds.

“(Y/N)?” His voice on the other line causes your breath to get stuck on your throat. You cough, clearing your throat. “You okay?”

“Yes, Iwaizumi. Why did you call?” Your eyes are shut, shame thrown out of the window. Maybe his voice can help you. A finger slip into your core, and you stop yourself from making any obvious sexual sound.

“Have you reminded the about the medical files I asked them to fill up?” Iwaizumi asks you, and you try so hard to comprehend his words as another finger is added inside you.

“Yeah,” you reply, your breathing becoming faster as you curl your fingers inside of you, hitting that certain part of your wall. “But I’ll remind them again.”

“Thanks. But are you sure you’re okay? You sound like you’re running out of breath,” Iwaizumi says and you can hear the concern in his voice.

“Yeah,” is all you can reply. You take your panties off, your foot kicking it off the bed. Your fingers dip in and out of your womanhood, making a loud noise that you hope the man on the phone can hear.

“Are you-? Did I disturb you? I’m sorry. Good b-” he sounds flustered. He finally realizes what you are doing.

“Hajime,” you moan his name loudly, your voice vibrating through his ears and straight into his member. The thought that you’re thinking about him while you’re touching yourself is turning him on.

“Y-yes?” Iwaizumi stutters, not knowing what to do. His hand is over his crotch, mind already going into different places.

“Come over. Please,” you plead, your breath becoming shorter and quicker. “Need you so bad.”

Iwaizumi wants to scold you, sermon you about how these activities can affect your work dynamic, but his dick is painfully growing hard in his sweats. His feet brings him to his apartment entrance as if it has it’s own brain.

“On my way, baby. Make sure you’re ready for me when I get there.”

You can’t think of anything else. The way Iwaizumi is stretching you out is all that can process. He has your knees, hands on your back as he thrusts his cock in and out of your aching core. He has made you orgasm twice before using his mouth and fingers, so you’re more than sensitive.

“I fuck you once and you can’t cum without me?” Iwaizumi chuckles proudly, his pace slowly increasing in speed. “I guess I’ll have to claim your pussy now.”

“So good... It’s so good,” you pant, cheek planted on the bed beneath you.

“Fuck, you’re too tight...” he hisses as he feels your walls spasm around his cock, the grip slowing down his movement. He groans as he pulls out of you and then slamming back in immediately. The tip of his manhood hits your cervix, making you arch your back. His hand holds onto your wrists, the other hand landing a slap on your ass cheek. He leans his body down, his chest pressed onto your back, his lips attaching to the shell of your ears.

“Who owns this pussy, baby?” Iwaizumi whispers, his mouth nibbling on your earlobe as he continues to thrust into you.

“You, Hajime! You!” You scream, his quick thrusts turning into harsh pounds. He lets go of your wrists and you swiftly grab onto the sheets tightly as he reaches deeper into you.

“I’m cumming,” Iwaizumi pants, his hands gripping into your hips. He pushes your hips to meet his, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

“Cum inside me,” you manage to say in between heavy breaths. Your words make him thrust deeper and faster. The pleasure causing your orgasm to build up. “Gonna cum, too.” After a few thrusts, you feel your orgasm wash over you, your body trembling from the pleasure.

Iwaizumi continues to slowly go in and out of you, feeling his own high approach him. Your flushed cheeks, sweaty body, and desperate moans makes him cum, just where you wanted it. Iwaizumi pulls out of you, watching his white creamy fluid drip out of womanhood. His dick hardens again as he sees your lips push his cum out. He flips you onto your back, eliciting a gasp from you. You can’t process anything at this point. Your legs are shaking and your mind is hazing.

Iwaizumi holds onto the base of his shaft, the tip of your other hole, gathering his cum that has reached there. He slides his cum back up using the head of his cock, then slam it back into your pussy.

“Hajime!” The sudden intrusion has brought you back into your senses. You can feel his cock growing inside you as you slowly pull him down for a kiss.

“Can you cum for me one more time?”

A/N: this is a smut series hahaha i’ll probably finish the whole song with different haikyuu boys. i hope you enjoy them

[muffindaddystyles]

KISMETS (Part 3)

Harry Styles x Preggs Fem!Reader.

Frenmies to lovers to parents, Dadthon!!H

Oral Smut, dirty talk and teasing.

Angst! Angst and fluff!! N' tooth rotting fluff.

Dadrry, bestie!h, boyfriend!h

Author's Note: The concept's kinda weird but if you've watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Phoebe Buffay carrying child for someone. You've got it my pal!

MASTERLIST PART 1 PART 2 LETS TALK/ ASK

The morning light cocoons them with softness and they don't care if they're sitting in a pool of blood.

"I love you too, so much." She hiccups pacifying down not wanting to never be to able say them again as Harry runs a hand at her back, limbs still tangled with eachother, whispering sweet things to her while Miss. Dori pulled her placenta out, "Y/N?" He panics when she dulls in his arms head lulling at his shoulder and heartbeat slowing down to feeble line. Gently pulling his face out from the cave of her neck he pats her cheek worriedly, again, at her unconscious state, her head dangling back over his wrist, "Y/N!?" His heart squeezing tight miserably into his ribcages when she doesn't respond to his calls.

Or

Harry and Y/N are back being to besties and enjoying being pregnant together.

Warning: Mentions of blood, pregnancy trauma and natural childbirth hurdles.

//

Eyes gives it all. Even the hidden treasures get's looted from the mere mistake of someone's gaze just like right now when he's pretending to be confused as ever, "what? Called her myself . . ." He frowns and she sniffs frozen in her position feeling exposed from the vulnerability of being naked infront of him; tries to cover herself criss-crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why'd you d'that?" She hiccups wiping her blushed nose and his pupils bursts wide into realization. Immediately, cradles her face tenderly stroking the apple of her cheeks shaking his head vigorously, "Oh -— no. no. no baby told her to come over to take her leftover stuff if not I better give it to charity."

"O . . okay." She sucks in a breather. Without a word he removes hers arms away in a gesture that you never need to hide from me. Kisses her shoulder blade stroking her wrists and her pulse in circles.

"Don't cry, lil penguin. Why're ye' cryin'?" He asks in his most gentle voice feathering her cheek with the back of his hand, "'m . . . 'm scared." She tries to recoup her cries holding her breath causing her cheeks to puff like a fish.

"Let's get you cleaned warm and nice. Then we'll talk yeah lovie?" He slides her elbows behind his neck holding her strongly to walk them to his bedroom. Gives her a bath full of vanilla bubbles, essential oils, scrubbed her back and would trail kisses up her belly from under water making her giggle and weave her fingers into his own wet curls.

Him loving all three of them's the most adorable thing.

Got her ready for mid-nap with his sweater and boxers putting fur pads atop her ears, aloe fused socks on her feet and turning the heat a bit to sleepy temperature. Tucks a quilt under their chins and snuggles her closer to himself letting herself calm to his heartbeats before she speaks her heart out to him, "wanna talk? What you're scared of babe tell me all of it. Knows that I'll handle." He slips further into bed bringing her thigh around his torso and her head atop his buff chest.

She exhales loudly trying to subside the emotional feeling of crying along with each word that comes out of her mouth. Her bad habbit of grounding everything to the pit of her stomach until it blasts into a massive destruction always gets her into worst scenarios.

"'M worried about alot of things –- actually." She peeks up at him and he's already looking down at her genuinely with relaxed self to let her know that nothing has changes and he's still her bestfriend who'd wait for her till she manages to speak, "about what?" He encourages her petting down her hair.

"Everything like 'like future . . 'n — me being a good mum after all of that 'm uni too. . . the semester would start right after the month of my delivery." She furls her toes to keep her anxiety at bay level cocooning her womb cause she feels the safest with the assurement of her babies being with her, "about my career and what about me dreams? What if I'll never get to chase 'em?" He listens to her diligently boring his gaze to the way her lips mold with each word. Sighs gently rubbing her arms up and down salutating his palm around the side of her neck to tip her face towards him. His lips lingers at her temple murmuring against it, "Together we're gonna do this."

"You're gonna be the kindest and bestest mommy ever Y/N. I belive in ye' and about your dreams. I'll take care that nothing comes in the way to stop ya . . You'll attend UNI same as before 'cause 'm takin' a break to be with our babies till your done with your degree." He declares to her seriously and honestly running his hand all over her spine to assure her in every way possible, locking his ankles with her under the sheets.

"'M a big boy now! A daddy to two babies don't underestimate me miss gremlin!" He grins impishly smushing his cheeks into her side wide spreading his palm atop her tummy warmly with bare fingers, "'kay gotcha!" She giggles cuddling into him with droopy eyes inhaling the same scent she's lathered in from the sweet spot of his neck.

//

She wakes up in the evening satisfied and happy with the nap marks, sweaty baby hairs, a bit of drool at the corner of her mouth and Harry already awake but still spooning her. He's her pregnancy pillow.

Covers her mouth with his pinky and ring finger when she yawns cutely stretching beneath him slowly blinking. Proper stops with his intense loving gaze still on her and blushes hard when he pecks her dry lips after sleep. Her chest heaves with his kisses and snogs trailing down between the valley of her breasts making her card her fingers through his chocolate curls. Whimpers ever hoarsely raising her hips in air for some friction and to levitate the throb in between her legs asking for him to release the ache away.

He takes the hint scooching closer to her side nudging her knees wide stroking the flesh of her thighs with tickling pinches. She whines fisting sheets with yearning arch of her back, "insatiable lil thing aren't ya?" He gives a toothy grin wetting his lips making her pause in her heave of getting his fingers instead flickering her vision over his candy plush lips.

"Kiss me?" She whispers and how couldn't he when she's looking this soft, warm and full of blush from the nap. He was litreally nutters for not ever pondering over the thought how alluring and attractiveness her satiny features hold, "'course darlin'." He tips her chin towards himself letting her sweet cushiony lips fuse against his's into an ardent kiss shooting her libidos 100 times higher than before making her moan pathetically into his mouth.

Her forearms winding around his shoulders instinctively and exhales through her nose not pulling away from the kiss and squeaks lowly when he bites her lower lip pulling away, "'ve got asthma y'mad mad woman." He gapes down at her dramatically fiddling with the bow of her panties. They skim down to her mound feeling the slickness that has spread all around and the rough trim of hair, "and I've got an extravagant sex drive!" It whisks into a breathy gasp of dense air when he slid his digits in between her slick folds flickering her swollen clitoris and repeating till she's panting for more.

"Sad innit? 'S me fault. I should be the one to help my girl out." He mutters trailing sweet kisses down her swollen belly to her pelvis snapping the elastic with his teeth causing her to jolt under his firm hold. She's too floaty else the statement of him claiming her would have swiped her away into a paradise of never ending imaginations.

"Mhmp. What did ya had fo' lunch lovie'?" He licks her juices off from the inside of her thighs sending intense quivers to her core. His palms smoothes under her thighs to hike them up and over his shoulders nipping at her skin when all she did was responded with a gasp, "d- dunno forgot . ." He perks his brows to his forehead commenting playfully while dipping down to tickle her with his curls.

"Pregnancy made ye' loose your braincells, moppet?" She raises her hand to smack him at head instead tugs his hair when for finally he flattens his tongue thickly against her wet cunt to give a good mind boggling lick sucking her clitoris in the way, "asshole. . ." She moans squirming like leaf under him but he quites her by taking her sensitive nub between his teeth to give a little graze and pull. It makes her pussy lips flutter and her hole leak with so much wetness it sticks to Harry's chin.

"H – ha . . rry. Harry." She tries to grind her hips against his mouth but he tuts brushing his pads around her dripping hole to tease her, "yes baby?" Groans of annoyance fills the room and she shoves her face into the pillow bitting down the snarky insults thrown at the curly head.

"Not gonna give ye' me fingers till you ask fo' it." He smooches wet filthy kisses letting her stickiness coat his lips stirring a ball of fire in her pit, "shut up." She whines nudging him with her knee telling him to do something to relax her.

"Make me." He smirks tilting his head to suck her petal fold creating dirty seductive noises on purpose. She huffs taking the matters into her hands pulling him up towards her by a hard grip onto his hair, "ouch ouch!!" He quips shutting his eyes tight.

"Harry Styles you make me cum or I'm never letting you fuck me ever." She glares him and he gives out a defeated sigh naughtiness still lurking in his moss of irises, "bossy – kay! Sorry! Was kiddin' babe. 'M all here to please ye'." She nods her head curtly shoving him back down and he giggles at her when in an instant from an angry lil penguin she melted into a mush of gooe when Harry thrusted two fingers at once inside her curving them once they were buried snug deep.

"Yes. Yes. Yes." She gasps moving her hips along him that he stayed in his place eating her out while his fingers pushed in and out of her tight pussy with squelching noises, "fuckin' tight urghh." He grits rubbing her clit into harsh circles with his other hand, mouth on her cunt and fingers fucking her continuously.

"Want more?" He asks and she bobs her head not even processing what he said almost loosing the idea of her presence feeling too much ecastasy and over the clouds, "here take as much as ye' want baby." He slips another third finger admiring the way her pussy stretches swallowing his fingers, "'m gonna lick your little wet cunt off then clean it with me filthy tongue to make a mess of ye' all over again filling you full with me cock. Sounds good baby?" He knows she's the shy lil bean and his sweet enthusiastic words of vulgarism heats her up enough.

"Gonna come. Harry --" She tips her head down and back in air eyes rolling into her sockets. Harry rubs her outer thighs soothing her thrashing body, "shhh baby relax. You can cum on me fingers." She obliges him softening in his arms and her pussy makes soppy noises gushing with each wave of pleasure throbbing around his digits while he works her out to make her feel as giddy as he could, "That's it baby girl. That's it cum fo' me again?" He prods at the sponge of bump inside her seething through her twitching walls making it impossible for him to pull out and tent his cock against the bed leaving a spot of how turned on he's at the moment.

But, his first-most priority is her. It always was her maybe more than Chessie

"Happy my lil lioness?" He comes back on top of her arms digged on either side of her temple and she tries to squint from one eye pulling him to herself planting a rewarding kiss at his cheek, "how 'bout a pizza from Tommy's place?" He lays ontop of her (like half ontop of her and half on his side; just to share her warmth).

"Can I have an extra topping of olives, pretttyy pleaseee?" She makes a weird funny face to convince him, "but you're allergic to 'em." He frowns sitting up thumb hovering over the contacts popping on the screen. He has everything memorized she's allergic to; it's not much peanuts, olives and clay dough ( she claims that she ate it once when she was possibly 5 and it swelled her flesh up ) not that she's gonna nip at it now but Harry couldn't trust her cravings at all.

"But 'm craving them sooo baddd." She clutches the hem of his tattered shirt pouting but he retorts with the shake of his head intervining their fingers together to kiss her knuckles, "Nope moppet. We don't need another hospital visit at fou' in the morning like last time, do we?" She remembers it. A very angry Chessie at his doorsteps while he helped her walk inside this home post hospital visit.

"I hate this." She huffs folding her arms against her chest, "I know. How about we delay getting y'sick once babies are out?"

"You kidding?" Her mouth slacks turning into a widespread grin at last, "absolutely not. Pizza without olives yeah?" He smacks a kiss against her open mouth loudly before his phones rings at the pizza place.

//

Harry's the busy bee. From grocery shopping to making the list of all the organic food he needs to line up his pantry with, he took everything's responsibility on himself. Cause mama has a huge duty for wrapping two babies in her womb safe and heated. Even when she tries to bend down to put a plate in dishwasher he skates near her supporting her back and scolding her, "all you've t'do is eat and nap. Dunno fucks count 'cause we fuck alot — chill sweet baby. 'switch onto telly 'm bringing banana milk and cookies." She pouts because she doesn't want to be a burden on him. She wants to suspect any tiredness from his features — the way he's been on his trippy toes for her from eight and half months but how much she tries she couldn't instead he looks way more giggly and joyful than before with never ending dad jokes and teasing bum pats.

They indeed fuck alot. Harry loves that she's always sleepy and clingy — he thinks he's truly, deeply and madly in love with his lil penguin but they're in the middle of train's track whose destination is atlast confession of love but he wants to wait. He can't wait though. He's always been impatient and light from stomach can't sleep at night without sharing a word of his swimming thought with anyone. He shared it with Nialler, it was at three in the morning after Y/N sucked his cock dry with so much admiration for his prick he was bout to cry and blurt out but he didn't. Cuddled with her and oreo practically on his face then ringed his lad startling him up, "why did ya wake me up fo' something we all already know Harold? Do I've to teach ya lessons cause now that would be a shame to your kiddos." He grunted dropping the call leaving Harry baffled and alone to his thoughts again.

"Sweet angel . . " He cooes jarring the door to his room with his foot. She has moved in to his house, from guest room to his room and his heart. Told him she didn't like sleeping alone and gets the most amazing slumber squished up against his chest in his arms. He was ardent that she completes him. He's right. She does. Always had but this time it's till they're getting old and wrinkly.

Lilac walls glow from the telly's illumination and the flicker of light from their open wardrobe. His ears perks at a repulsive groan and his brows dips to tune into the situation, "what are ye' doin', pet?" He asks confused at the sight of Y/N in a funny position with a razor in her hand standing in the middle of their wardrobe trying to duck and see through her huge bump.

"'M tryin' to shave me legs — seems impossible though." She throws her head back to convey her annoyance and Harry chuckles placing the banana milk and the plate of dark chocolate cookies atop the drawer island taking her wrist which's holding onto the razor, "you don't 'ave to it's just a maternity shoot –- no biggie, moppet." She huffs. Their faces at level and intimately close to have a good stare in eachother's eyes.

"No biggie!? it's the first time I'll get to have someone take me pictures, all, personally fo' me." Her smile pouty as she tries not to break her disgruntled facade down.

"How 'bout the times, I was a victim of ye'r endless pictures taking sessions?" He squints down at her. Hands out of instinct fumbling by her sides to feel her warmth on his skin, "you were sooo shittt at that job."

"Kay, kay then, lemme just –- hand this razor, I'll shave ye'r legs pretty girl." Happily she shoves it in his grip while he knees down hiking her leg ontop of his knee. His pink tongue popping out in concentration. She trusts him in this because last time he was the one to shave herdown there. Taking a sip of her banana milk she taps the straw against his lips speaking, "a bestie in need is a bestie indeed." With his eyes on her ankle and his pretty hands which could make her come infinite times right now working so diligently, He gives her a high five taking a sip himself.

She breaks a cookie forwarding it to Harry and he looks up — so being all dramatic she acts shy and blushy turning her gaze away in a swift, "what baby?" He laughs putting her other foot on his knee his grip tight around her ankle.

"Don't stare at me calves like that you creep." He wipes away the crumbs from his lips giggling and making her giggle, "I've literally shaved your cooch days before." She jabs her big-toe against his nipple getting a high pitched squeak from a grown ass man in return.

"I hate you!" She says through the spurt of chuckles and his response in return turned both of them silent, "I know ye' love me." Their cheeks blazed. Eyes twinkling. Hearts doing lil dance dance but nobody from them tries to break the comforting silence knowing they'd word vomit the instant they'd.

They say "I love you." And "love you." in their normal routines without making it a mess of shyness. But the butterflies at that specific moment when the epiphany dawns on the pair that they really are in love with eachother makes their tummies float in void with butterflies.

"All done!" He announces enthusiastically kissing her knee like she's a princess in distress and the words burns at the plush of her lips, "love you."

"You too, lil penguin." He smiles boyishly.

"Oh fuck, I forgot we're gonna have shoot in our pyjamas." She yells in a low hum and he rolls his eyes slapping her ass, "rotten you're."

"Oopsies."

//

A maternity shoot in their back garden along oreo never seemed this fun when they were gushing about it days prior. Nialler gifted them cute baby pink coloured matching pyjamas with yellow peaches pattern, mommy and daddy embroidered on them. They even matched some fluffy kitten hats too!! A pair of yellow and pink with kitten ears with goggly eyes, big cheshire that of Oreo.

Their close friend Onna was all up for the shoot and nothing's more adorable than Harry's soft hands around Y/N's belly in a protective way, while they sat on the fluffy growing grass and cotton flowers. Her back resting against his taught chest, his legs wrapped on either side of her and oreo almost stretching atop her bump quenching loud belly ache laughs from them.

"Two pictures 'n 'm already tiredd, pff." She gasps shuffling a little to activate her sore bum and Harry pecks her shoulder cutely, "some more 'cause you'll grump later." Onna captures each every second of their tooth rotting interaction.

"Oi. I'll not!!" To avoid a banter Harry taps her chin pointing towards the camera speaking, "last one doll, one to show that we really are pregnant." Onna's laughing at their techniques. Shaking her head with each shot of overloaded sweetness she traps in her camera.

"I. Am. Indeed. Pregnant. Pet." She looks down with wide eyes rubbing her prodding tummy in circles, the top button litreally about to pop and Harry's face adorns with a naughty grin showing his bunny teeth, "Me too!!" He squeals rubbing his moth covered belly the same way she's doing and it sent both girls into fits of laughters.

"Sillllyyyyy." She sing-songs throwing an arm around the nape of his neck to bring him closer and smooch a loving kiss to his cheek, "you're gonna be the best dad." She whispers eyes closing into the diameter of his scent and he rests his lips against her forehead. Onna having a smile of adoration for her friends while she did her job, laying down to capture this one beautifully.

"Yeah?" His voice just audible to them. "Uhmm." She nods fiddling with the collar of his pyjamas and their bubbles pops when oreo tugs at Y/N's top revealing her graceful babies bump.

"You batty creature!!" She tries to grab oreo to smoosh her in her arms but oreo gallops miles away before it could happen.

//

The whole last night Y/N couldn't sleep. Tossing and turning with whines of complaints to a snoring Harry on her side. When Harry woke up she was already staring him like an owl scaring the poor thing, cause it wasn't a loving one. It was a proper creeping stare with baggy eyes and pouty lips, "can we have 'em out already?" She snuggles into his throat and he massages her head.

"In a week." He grogs out stroking his cheek against her's, "Have ya taken out all the required papers?" He asks her and she nods with a yawn. Today's the enrollment day for Y/N's next semester -- Harry will go to her UNI to talk to the administration instead of her.

"I'll be back in no time, till then try havin' a good rest, want some donughts from that one shop near ye'r UNI?" He thumbs at her baby locks. She shakes her head murmuring into his flimsy sweat shirt, "not feeling like it." Dunno what happened. She was alright after for finally her sickness went away but today she feels like shit because of her Braxton hicks climbing to painful peak.

Kissing her head last time he untangles himself to get ready and she watches him buttoning up his cuffs with his curl dangling over his eyes, he's looking handsome and a bit too out of her league with the crisp white shirt and chequered trousers.

He squats down pecking her lips. Her nostrils filling with cinnamon ocean-y smell soothing the tick of her nerves. Her body reacting to even the air pricking at her skin, "don't miss me too much, lil penguin." He gives her an eskimo kiss knowing she's feeling down and tired today the way she has her face squished into pillow and isn't trying even to cup his cheeks like she does everytime he leaves for something.

He puts her phone on the nightstand tugging her under the sheets, switching off the lamp and slowly exists the room not to disturb her. She doesn't know when he leaves but the pin-drop silence tells it all and she's half conscious half awake with fluttering eyelids.

She turns on her back with a groan to get rid of the dull ache in her pelvis and outer thighs — but then she feels something . . . . something wet between down there and it makes her snap open her eyes blinking blankly at the ceiling. Tries not to think of bad scenarios but it's otherwise.

"Holy cow of jesus." She fists the pillow under her sitting up with much difficulty and to her worst horrors the sheets are sploched badly. She stands up with her spine almost bending in two — staying calm and positive even when a heavy gush of water trickles down her legs soaking the rug. It has nothing attractive in it as they show in movies but rather feels like a dam leaking and a litreal adult peeing in their gowns.

She snatches the phone from nightstand putting a firm arm beneath her belly walking out of room, her maternity floral white gown clinging to her skin. A tinge of shock weaved through her bones but that didn't made her loose her balance. She wants to throw the phone against the wall when the line always beeps busy, "already missin — " his honey of voice bringing tears in her eyes.

"Get your ass back home!! Right fuckin' now!" She yells into speaker trudging forward with carefull steps. He pushes onto breaks hard, panicking into his seat, "What happened!?" He's quick in turning gears speeding back home. Her lips wobbles blue from pain and the unbearable throb between her thighs. Words struck in her throat as she tries to speak gripping the globe of stair railing leaning against it when a hard contraction striked against her spine.

"'M going into labour — " Harry's heart falls into his arse. His vision blurring from the intensity of the moment and he's thanking Gods for being five minute drive away from home. How many times they prepared for this time it all went in vain and now Harry's beating himself for leaving her side at all, "'m comin' home, it's okay baby, it's okay breath." His lips stammers from an invisible fear and fingers twitches around the wheel.

Wanted to shout at him "breath, my ass." Instead She gasps loudly in fright when she feels her cervix dilating to the maximum point and it did the last fireworks for her tears, "no, no, noo!!"

"'M giving birth!!" She shouts kissing her teeth together to keep the pain at the bay hooking a thumb into her panties, scrunching her dress up to press them under her armpits and squatting down with the heels of her palms pressed with so much strength over the last stair case, "what? oh my — 'm calling our midwife." She can feel a head trying to force it's way out from her vagina and it rakes out a sob from her chest.

"Please be gentle with mommy, 'm coming." Harry says and it comes out as a weak whisper while he drives sitting on the edge of the seat and Y/N's ears are ringing with white noise to even pay attention to what he's saying. Her gown drenching with sweat and she screamed at the top of her lungs pushing with her all might scaring a sleepy oreo in her bassinet, "Shit." He mutters tugging his curls back immediately calling their midwife. He wishes his babies could atleast wait for him to be there with their momma.

"Miss. Dori !! Y/N has gone into labour, 'm out, dunno —---" There's loud urgent shuffling on her side that of picking stuff and closing metal boxes as she assures Harry with firmness, "I'll be there in just 10 minutes, till then reach there as quick as possible. She needs you Mr. Styles." It collects sweat at the dip of his spine sky rocketing his anxiety. His breath elevating at the sight of his society's gate and if it was possible he'd have flown to her.

Parking hastily on the side of road and leaving his car's door open — dishelved he steps outside almost falling square on his face while the old couple that use to sit at their porch in mornings watch him with concern, "Is everythin' alright son?"

They ask and Harry nods yelling to them, "Y/N is in labour!!" His face blowing out of any color when his ears fills with painful screams of his lil penguin and his fingers jumbles with keys unlocking the door.

It's surreal. The realization not completely setting in that all of this's happening right at this moment, that he's going to be a daddy in some hours, Y/N hunched over the bottom stair squatting down with thighs wide apart and her gown soaked against her back. His breath knocks out of his lungs and eyes bursts into shock when he sees his baby's head pushing it's way out in between her legs.

"I can see it's head! I can see it's head oh m'godness." He announces rushing towards her and Miss. Dori guides him, "Harry help her pull it out, cup the baby's head and if it's shoulders are grab-able, have it out." He places the phone atop the stair sitting down beside Y/N kissing the side of her head quickly wiping her tears away.

"Hi baby, it'll be alright, 'm here now let's pull our bubba out mighty quick." He presses his chest to floor to look down there and if Y/N would have been in her good state of mind she'd have butt him in not to. His brows kinks tightly together as he tries to concentrate and not to pass out from the sight of blood and his blood covered infant half hanging in it's mother's v.

Gently he wraps his shivering palm around it's head and shoulder moreso figuring out if it could itself comes out, "push a bit more, moppet." She shakes her head furiously crying and trying with all her will, "It's hurts!!" He wishes the process wasn't that painful.

"I know, I know baby —- oh okay okay! We got him." He cackles through his worry taking him all out and in his arms having a good grip around it's tiny waist fearing it would slip. Y/N takes a huge sigh of relief muscles loosening and shoulders slumping. She could hear him sniffing close to her with little noises despite of how much she wants to hug him, she still has another one to bring out in the world.

"It's Elios." He grins with ablazed glossy eyes stroking his tweeny baby hair back. Though his excitement shatters into pieces as he cries to Miss. Dori, "He's not breathin, n'--not breathin' what do I do??" He has switched into his fight and flight mode. Fat tears spilling down his cheeks. Y/N wants to have him in her arms and make sure her baby's healthy but a hard contraction makes her bones jello with her another baby trying to pop out.

"Calm down Mr. Styles, Is his cord wrapped 'round his neck?" When Harry couldn't mutter a single word just shaking his head ear to ear staring down his little one with fear and sadness, Y/N screams for him, "No!!"

"It's nothin', clean his nose, it's probably some clotting blocking his breathing passage." Harry acts on her instruction without wasting a time and the threshold's walls bounced with prattle of his low coarse cries, "Oh my god!!" Harry gasps holding his baby boy closer to his chest not giving two fucks if his shirt and skin stains with thick blood.

In the meantime Miss. Dori and her assistant nurse tramps through their door. Cutting the cord Nurse takes Elios from Harry's arms and takes him for a cleanup as Harry leads her to their nursery. When he comes back Miss. Dori has their other bubba already out and it's worth watching him flying into clouds of paradise, full of glee, happiness, so much happiness has never experienced before.

"Hi. Victoria." He keeps his voice soft if she's a chinese porcelain doll and would break in his arms. He loves his son to core but the way his heart just swirled with fondness and love for his daughter the second she was layed into his embrace was something else. He's tender with her and from just gazing her it spurt out a sob from the deepest of his tummy, "she was so stubborn to come out rather than his brother." Miss. Dori tells him and his head perks up with proud adoration. Handing her to nurse he turns his gaze back to his exhausted lil penguin leaning against the wall now. And scoots closer to his bestfriend, the love of his life and the mother of his babies.

Hugging her warmly and affectionately, winding his arm around the nape of her neck to smoosh her into his chest while she cries against his throat. Being tender and the softest yet sweetest he could be with her, pressing his lips against her ear to whisper words that made her cry even more loudly into his bicep, "I love you, I love you more than anythin' in the world, 'm s' soo proud of ye' baby, me soulmate and the love of me life. I promise to love you forever and infinity." The world blurs around them and their heartbeats latches to sync in with eachother. The morning light cocoons them with softness and they don't care if they're sitting in a pool of blood, mess of the beautiful birth of their gorgeous twins.

"I love you too, so much." She hiccups pacifying down not wanting to never be able say them again as Harry runs a hand at her back, limbs still tangled with eachother, whispering sweet things to her while Miss. Dori pulled her placenta out, "Y/N?" He panics when she dulls in his arms head lulling at his shoulder and heartbeat slowing down to feeble a line. Gently pulling his face out from the cave of her neck he pats her cheek worriedly, again, at her unconscious state, her head dangling back over his wrist, "Y/N!?" His heart squeezing tight miserably into his ribcages when she doesn't respond to his calls.

"'M listenin', pet." She whispers smiling weakly and Harry's lungs nourishes with air, "Scared me baby love." He hugs her again with a wobbling pout and this time she tries to console him.

"Y'okay baby? Should we go to hospital? It's better if —--"

"'M okay!!" She simpers kissing the dip of his collarbone. Carefully he smoothes an arm down her back and knees picking her up bridal style to take her to their bathroom for a hot nice bath full of essential oils. He caress her face, trailing his knuckles down her cheeks, gazing her fondly while sitting down on the floor beside her with his one hand inside the warm water to lull around her calves.

"I love you, you've given me such beautiful babies. 'Ave ye seen Tori ? She's a proper you, that lil bunny mouth of yours, aish." He giggles and she squeezes his fingers in a silent gesture to tell him how happy she's. Drying her clean with a towel and moisturizing her body, making her wear her comfortable gown.

When he tucks her under sheets she babbles with droopy eyelids and tired body, "can I see my babies?" He smauches a kiss against her forehead, "After a teeny rest, yeah angel?" But, she was already out like a bulb making him chuckle softly.

//

Miss. Dori left the kind nurse behind with them till Y/N wakes up and with her help Harry lays down the twins on either side of their mommy. Deeply pondering how lucky he's to have his family completed and healthy, tucked into their mother's armpits.

He giggles and holds his breath in awe when Elio wriggles in his blanket, scootes his bum closer when Y/N yawns and stretches, "how ye' feelin'?" He brushes her loose tresses back and she nods attempting to sit up.

"Good." Thanking him when he gets comfy amount of pillows behind her, "wanna hold them?" He asks as she ducks down to kiss both of their soft skins.

"'M arms are still shakin' . ." She chuckles, "no biggie, I'll help ya out, a bestie in need is a bestie indeed." She giggles loudly startling Tori and Harry hushes her comically scooching behind her embracing her in a heated wrap from behind chin resting over her shoulder, "shh, gotta be quite with this one — such a light sleeper bub."

"This's Victoria Anne Styles and Elios Vincent Styles." He supports her one forearm with his's under: giving Elio to her and having Tori in his other, "are you presenting them to me as some kind of award for my bravery, pet?" She nudges him playfully and he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Such nice awards, innit?" He gives her an eskimo kiss and she puckers her lips asking for a loving smooch of his candy lips, "absolutely."

//

They took their first nap together with Harry and Y/N on either side of bed with their babies in the middle of their warmth just like a nest of sparrows, safe, comfy and utterly snuggly with the couple protecting their dainty creatures of soft flesh from the storms of outside.

"C'mere baby . . " Harry usheres Oreo with the snap of his thumb as she tries to canoodle into the soles of his feet tickling him and she obliges his tone, "Good girl . ." His own voice tired petting her crown when she turns into a lil ball of fur beside Tori who's sleeping at her daddy's side, being ever hesitant and carefull with them making Harry smile at her thinking of giving her treats in dinner.

He almost slips from under the sheets when a shriek of cry jolts him awake and it's Tori crying loudly thrashing under the blanket while her brother kept on sleeping stretched over his mommy's chest, head tucked under her chin.

Ah! Here comes the real deal. Daddy Harry's about to face real challenges 'cause we all know he once promised that he's a big boy now, innit?

[chibinekochan]

i heard you were taking luke request so i came at the speed mammon running from luci! 🏃🏽‍♀️💨

so here’s my proposition! you know how luke kinda dislikes being treated as a child even though he’s thousands of years old. so what if after one day of everyone babying him he completely gets fed up and starts his rebellion phase. dad!simeon doesn’t know what to do. so it’s MC to the rescue!

Haha, somehow I can see that happening. Such a teen thing to do.

One day Simeon calls you in distress.

He seems pretty upset. "I have a huge issue. Please come over right away."

You have never heard him like this before. "Did something happen? Should I bring support?" You wonder what kind of emergency happened to make Simeon sound so out of it.

"It's easier to explain in person, just please come." Simeon is in honest distress.

"I'm coming right away." You don't know what is up, but Simeon needs support so you brace yourself for whatever might happened.

You practically run over to his room.

It looks like a bomb exploded, a lot of stuff is scattered everywhere on the ground. It's a big mess.

"What happened? Was there a burglary?" You are very surprised by the sight.

Simeon looks like he is close to tears. "No, it's even worse." He seems to be barely able to speak.

"Okay, you sit down and I make a cup of tea and you can tell me what happened." You feel like it's best to have Simeon calm down first.

"That sounds lovely but we have no time for that. You see Luke did this and just stormed out. It's honestly my fault." Simeon sighs. "I think I have been too hard on him lately or maybe I baby him too much… I don't know but lately Luke has been very difficult to handle. I just don't know what to do anymore." Simeon is very distraught by what Luke did.

"He just threw everything around? That doesn't sound like him." You can't even imagine Luke being this upset.

Simeon sighs deeply again. "I know he is usually such a sweet boy but I guess he grew up faster than I realized and now he entered into a new phase and I'm frankly lost." He looks at you with pleading eyes.

"So you want me to go to him and talk to him?" You can only imagine this is why he called you over.

"Yes, please. I'm so lost I just want everything to be normal again and you have lots of experience with difficult people so you are the only person I can count on." He looks at you with puppy eyes.

"I will talk to him and see what is up, but I won't make any promises." You can understandSimeon’ss struggle and want to at least try to make everything better.

"Thank you very much. I will start cleaning this mess." Simeon smiles lightly at you.

"Luke should clean this mess. Not you. That will only teach him the wrong lesson." You think Luke should fix his own mistakes.

Simeon nods. "You are right. I just want to make it better between us."

"You should have a long conversation with him after cleaning up and having dinner." You know having difficult conversations is best after all basic needs are met.

"I will take that suggestion, thank you." Simeon still looks a bit lost, but at least he has a plan.

You go and look for Luke, who is in the living room.

He is still on the edge, it seems. Even his clothing style has changed.

Luke clearly tries to look more adult.

"Hey, Luke. A nice shirt you have there." You try to start with a neutral topic.

He slightly glares at you. "Thanks."

"Where did you buy it? I'd love to get something similar." You sit down across from him.

"I got it from akuzon, but it sold out." Luke seems to open up a little bit.

"Aww, that's a bummer. It looks great though." You sigh and take a glass and fill it with some water.

"Simeon didn't like it at all." Luke pouts.

"Really? I think it suits you well." You seem to get closer to the issue at the core.

"He just doesn't get me at all." Luke sighs.

"That's normal. He is not used to you growing up. Many things change now for you. I have been there myself. I was a big goth in my teen years." You giggle slightly.

"Really? That's unexpected. I thought you were always like you are now." Luke seems surprised.

"I bet Simeon changed a lot too. Maybe Lucifer can share some stories about his youth with you sometime. I bet Simeon did a ton of embarrassing things." You giggle at the thought.

"He is just seeing me as a small kid. I never get to do what I want." Luke grimaces.

"Simeon is like a parent to you so I get it. Parents only want your best but they don't always do the best. Simeon isn't perfect either, he makes mistakes, but he is also a good guy. You can talk to him." You try to encourage Luke.

Luke casts his eyes down. "Have you ever done anything bad that made them angry at you?"

You laugh. "Of course. You wouldn't believe the arguments we had. I was stubborn and they just didn't get me."

Luke looks at you wide-eyed. "You too?"

"I'd say that's pretty normal." You shrug.

"What about now? Are you guys okay?" Luke looks at you worried.

"Of course, better than ever. We all grew together and now we have a good relationship. There were many talks and they still don't get all of my interests but that's alright. I don't get all of their interest either. But we all have stuff we enjoy doing together." You smile at Luke.

"So umm what did you do when you messed up?" Luke shifts around.

"When I felt bad I apologized and if I could I tried to fix it." You think back on the many times that happened.

"Did they hate you for it?" Luke looks at you with curious eyes.

"No, they were mad, and sometimes I got punished, but we always talked about it after we all cooled down. Sometimes I learned my lesson and sometimes I didn't, at least not the first time. But still in the end we forgave each other." You chuckle thinking of how hard-headed you could be.

Luke still doesn't seem to be able to see your teenage self." You really did some growing up, didn't you? "

"Yeah, it's hard to believe I know. Seeing how awesome I'm now." You giggle.

Luke rolls his eyes. "Come on. You aren't that awesome."

"Aww but I deal with demons on a daily basis." You play along with the light banter.

"That's true. I think I gotta go now." Luke seems to be ready to go and clean up.

"Alright then, just know I'm ready to talk whenever. If you get to your emo phase, come right to me. I still got some clothes and music." You give him a slight smile.

"I don't think that will be necessary." Luke seems slightly annoyed by my comment.

You shrug. "Your loss. I have to go and listen to some of that stuff now." You giggle a bit.

Luke sighs. "I got some cleaning to do. See you later."

You return to your room and in the evening you get a text from Simeon thanking you.

Apparently, they both apologized. Luke cleaned everything and made dinner. They both talked about everything for a long time.

It seems like things are better again.

My Obey me! Masterlist

[narutogwriting]

dude your writing is superior, especially the Kiba one 🥵 would you consider making a part two to that one? I’m kinda hooked on the story now ngl

Thank you so much 🥺 Your guys’ asks make me so happy! Imma keep it real, I’m not stoked with how this one turned out, but I hope you like it!

Eat Your Words Pt 2

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

CW: NSFW; creampie

Length: 2.6k+

Summary: Kiba is your jerk of an ex boyfriend. After making the mistake of sleeping with him again,  you have some harsh words for him that leave him reeling.

Inspired by me wanting Kiba to rail me into oblivion

Please don’t tag as NSFW!

“Hey, what’re you so upset for!?” Kiba called as you shoved him off of you and got out of his bed. God, why had you done that!? Kiba sits up, propped up on his elbows as he watches you march around the room, grabbing your clothes and pulling them back on. You shook your head, waiting until you were fully clothed before turning on him.

“Are you kidding me?!” You snapped. “This is the problem, Kiba! This has always been your problem.” Shaking your head, you picked up Kiba’s own shirt to throw at him. “You think you can solve everything with sex! You think that everything’s okay, and I’m gonna stay just because I let you fuck me?”

Kiba rolled his eyes at you, tossing his shirt back on the floor.  He lounged back in bed, his hands folded behind his head. Kiba obviously had no shame as he laid back completely naked, not even trying to cover up.

“I can’t help it if I have a magic dick.” He snickered. “Not my fault that the sex is that good.” Kiba shot you a wolfish grin, being playful and deflecting as he always did. Did he even know how to have a serious conversation?

Gritting your teeth, you stalked to the side of his bed, surprising him with your vehemency. He could feel the anger radiating off of you. “Let me tell you something, Kiba.” You spat, standing over him. “Yeah, you might be good at fucking,” you said the word pointedly, wanting to make sure he understood the distinction. “But sex? Intimacy? Making a girl feel really good?” You gave a humorless laugh. “You have no idea about that. Even if you go home with a girl every night for the rest of your life, you’re always gonna be alone.”

~

Those words stayed with Kiba, ringing in his head constantly as the days passed. What had you meant by all of that? He tried to pretend it didn’t bother him, but something about it had shaken him to his core.

After you’d left, taking your shit with you just like you’d originally wanted, he’d gone straight to Ino’s house. He was pissed and annoyed and confused and needed some help letting out steam.

So he’d pounded her into the mattress doggy style, making her scream and moan just the way he liked. You’d told him he didn’t know how to make a girl feel good, but he thought that Ino would beg to differ. He spent an hour making her cum around his cock before he finally found his own release. When they collapsed into bed, Kiba found his arm slinking around Ino, something he usually didn’t do.

“That was good, right?” He asked her. 

“Oh yeah,” Ino sighed, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. “Great as always,” she told him as she made a move to get out of bed, but he stopped her with a squeeze to her hips. 

“Where ya going? I thought we could like, lay here, ya know? Cuddle and talk and shit.”

Turning to look at him, Ino gave Kiba an incredulous look, actually laughed at him, making him go red. “What the hell are you talking about?” She asked, pushing his hand off of her so she could get up. “That's… Not what this is.”

Feeling his cheeks burning, Kiba crossed his arms. “What do you mean ‘that’s not what this is’?” He muttered.

As Ino pulled on her top, she glanced back at him. “Kiba, you’re fun for like… a good time,” She explained gently. “But when it comes to that emotional shit, well, I have other guys I go to that for. That’s boyfriend shit, and you don’t exactly fit that bill…”

~

Kiba walked through the village, his head whirling. Did girls really not see him as boyfriend material? Just as a quick fuck? Kiba had never been super into relationships, really had only ever focused on hooking up before, but he’d never considered that maybe girls didn’t want to date him either. He was a catch! Wasn’t he?

He began to think more and more about what you’d meant, that he could fuck, but he didn’t know how to have sex? Well, what was the difference?

The brain has a way of picking up patterns. Once presented with new information, it will begin to recognize that information everywhere. That’s what was happening to Kiba, and it was happening specifically with you.

What had he been hoping for after you slept together? That you would look at him with heart eyes again and fall back head over heels? Break up with gyoza boy and come back to him? 

Well, yeah. That’s exactly what he’d been hoping.

Because, okay, yeah, he was aware that he wasn’t exactly the perfect boyfriend. He knew he wasn’t always as attentive to your needs as you were to his, was realizing that sometimes when you just wanted a kiss and a hug, he was dragging you back to the bedroom before he even recognized something might be wrong.

He was selfish and self-centered and arrogant and okay, now he got it. He was the worst boyfriend. And maybe you wouldn’t understand this, wouldn’t believe him and he couldn’t even blame you for it, but Kiba did love you. He loved you in the way he knew how.

And he could list it all out for you. He loved your eyes, how bright they were, and especially the way they lit up when you looked at him, like he was the center of your whole world. He loved the smile you got when you would see him for the first time all day. He loved the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were nervous and the giggle you gave when you were embarrassed.

Kiba loved how you’d pull him into the grass, tell him the stories you saw in the clouds. Some days you would stay there until the sky was dark and splattered with stars, and then you would tell him the stories they told too.

Kiba did love you, he really did. You were the first, the only girl he’d ever wanted to be in a relationship with. But he didn’t realize just how bad he was at showing it. 

So when you were yelling at him for the millionth time because he forgot another date night he’d sworn he’d plan, he didn’t get how upset you were, thought you were overreacting. You guys spent plenty of time together; why did this specific instance matter?

He was taken off guard, absolutely blown away, when you’d broken up with him. He hadn’t even bothered trying to argue with it because there was no way you were serious, right? He’d laughed, told you “sure thing,” and gone back home waiting for you to show up at his door.

He waited for a week before he’d realized you weren’t coming. 

And he couldn’t understand it, thought you were overreacting, and he was so pissed. Kiba wasn’t emotionally mature enough to realize what he was feeling wasn’t anger; it was actually heartbreak. So he’d gone out, gotten drunk, and went home with the first person that was willing.

Except they didn’t go home. Kiba took Ino right there in the alley outside the bar. Enough privacy that not everyone would see, but public enough that at least someone would see, and surely word would get back to you. 

Thinking about it now, he could see why that was so stupid. He’d only wanted to make you jealous, hadn’t even considered that it may leave your heart shattered. But he got it now. He understood very well how horrible you must’ve felt, because he felt it now, watching you with gyoza boy.

So maybe it was a little creepy--okay, a lot creepy--but he followed you and your boyfriend around when he saw the two of you out and about. You’d gone right from Kiba’s house to his, he guessed. Fine, let’s see what a good boyfriend he is then.

And Kiba could see it, all the things that this new guy did that he never had. You always had this bag you carried around with you no matter where you were, almost instinctively. It’d always annoyed Kiba for really no reason at all. But gyoza boy was carrying that bag for you, had it slung over his own shoulder as he held your hand.

Kiba had never really held your hand much. It’s not like he didn’t like it; it just didn’t cross his mind usually, and he didn’t really think it was that big of a deal. Gyoza boy not only held your hand, but he spun you around as you walked, not carrying how silly it looked. Kiba always cared.

He saw the way you laughed, how happy you appeared to be. When you talked, your boyfriend leaned into you, eyes locked on yours. It was clear that you had  his full, undivided attention. 

And really, those things were so small, but it was all you’d ever wanted. The little things, like having fun in public and those touches of affection and for someone, for Kiba, to just make you feel important. Nothing felt worse than being taken for granted by the person you loved the most.

Kiba realized just how neglectful he’d been.

~ “Kiba? Again?” Ino asked with a sly smile, leaning against her doorway. Kiba shook his head, rolling his eyes. “No, Ino. It’s not that. I need your help…”

~

Weeks had gone by since your mistaken hookup with Kiba. You’d beaten yourself up for that constantly. You’d felt like you had the upper hand when you broke up with him, but you gave the power right back to him when you let him in your pants knowing you had a boyfriend at home.

You’d broken up with “gyoza boy” just a a week after the hookup. The guilt from cheating on him with Kiba had been eating you alive, and besides that, there just wasn’t that spark. He was such a nice, sweet guy, but you didn’t feel anything when you were with him. Not like you did with Kiba. With him, you felt everything.

And speaking of Kiba, you were about to walk right past him. You definitely weren’t ready for that interaction. You steeled yourself, preparing for some snide comment or jab at you. You weren’t ready when Kiba stopped, smiling at you and asking you how you were.

“I’m fine…” You blinked, surprised.

“That’s good. It’s been a long time…” Kiba was being polite, making small talk, and it threw you.  You nodded awkwardly. “But, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” He continued. “There’s a few more things you left at my house. If you wanted to come get them…”

You gritted your teeth, rolling your eyes. Of course. You should’ve known. “I’m busy right now,” you practically snapped. “I’ll stop by later. But my clothes will be staying on.”

When you did finally make your way to Kiba’s later that evening, it was with extreme reluctance. You were certain that all Kiba wanted was another excuse to try and get you into bed. You were going to do your absolute best to not engage any of his antics or let him get to you and end up like last time.

You knocked on the door, crossing your arms, preparing for a shirtless, or even just a boxer clad Kiba to open the door. Instead, he opened it wearing exactly what you’d seen him wearing earlier in the day. He was fully clothed, didn’t have that arrogant smirk on his face, and was opening the door to let you in rather than staring at you like a piece of meat. You didn’t think your guard had ever been up so high. Eyeing Kiba suspiciously, you stepped by him, entering the house and going to the table where a small box was. Shifting through it, they were all little things you definitely hadn’t been missing. A couple hair ties, a few bobbypins, even a sock without it’s match.

You couldn’t help but scowl. This wasn’t anything you needed. Kiba must’ve been luring you here to sleep with you again just like you thought.

You turned on him, shoving the box across the table. “Seriously, Kiba?” You glowered. “What the fuck would I want any of this for? You could’ve just tossed it. I’m leaving.” As you moved to push past him, Kiba saying your name made you stop. It was unwillingly, like your body was on autopilot, responding to his name instinctively. You couldn’t help but groan to yourself as you turned to glare at him. “What?” You snapped.

Kiba turned then, going to the counter and reaching behind it before pulling out a painting. He held it sheepishly in front of him for you to see.

It was two small figures, laying in the grass looking up at the blue sky with white clouds painted against the backdrop. In all honesty, it looked like something a child would have made, but you were pretty sure by the red on Kiba’s cheeks that he’d done it. “What is it?” You asked him.

“A story.” Kiba replied, moving closer. “It’s in the clouds, ya see? A story about a guy who was a complete idiot and who lost the girl that he really loved, and how it took losing her to see how dumb he really was.” He pointed to the clouds which looked like blobs instead of cohesive shapes, but you knew what he meant. You always used to tell him stories, random things you made up when looking at the sky. It was one of the only times you ever thought Kiba was really listening to you.

Setting the picture down, Kiba stepped closer to you. “It’s a present… I just wanted to give it to you to say I’m sorry… I’ve been thinking a lot since the last time we saw each other, and I realized that you were right. I was a really bad guy to you, and you deserved better.”

Despite how skeptical you may have been under usual circumstances, you could see right away that Kiba was being serious. There was no facade or part he was playing. He was being open and honest with you, and you were taken aback by his gesture. He’d actually painted you a picture of one of your favorite things to do with him. It was one of the sweetest gestures you’d ever received.

“You made this for me?” You whispered.

“You don’t gotta believe me…” Kiba continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you deserved an apology. You were always so good to me, and I really loved you for that.. But I also realized I took you for granted. It’s my biggest regret. I never wanted to lose you, but I know that you deserve to have a guy that spoils you and loves you in ways you can feel it.”

Your heart was fluttering as you felt heat rising to your cheeks. Where was all this coming from? All you’d ever wanted from Kiba was for him to say something like this, to put in some effort and show he cared.

“What… what made you realize all of this?”

Kiba paused for a second, blushing before finally answering. “After you put me in my place last time, Ino told me I wasn’t boyfriend material… It was all pretty humbling, not gonna lie.” He gave a small snicker. “I really got my ass handed to me. Then later that day, I saw you with gyoza boy and how happy you were… It really put everything into perspective. I’m glad you’re happy with him, though. I hope he treats you better than I did…  But it made me want to change. The past few weeks, Ino has basically been pointing out every single flaw I have for me to fix.” He shrugged. “It’s been rough. I knew I had one or two, but turns out I have a lot.” You’d never seen Kiba so earnest and vulnerable before. You felt yourself getting hopeful, even though you weren’t sure for what. “Actually…” You admitted, meeting his gaze. “I broke up with gyoza boy a few weeks ago.”

That took Kiba off guard. His eyes widened considerably as he spluttered all over his words. “O-oh, you did? T-that’s… That’s too bad. I’m sorry to hear that.”

The laugh came out of you before you could stop it. “No you’re not,” You told him, giving him a knowing smile. He returned it with a big grin. “I’m not…” He admitted. “But I do just want you to be happy.”

There was a pause that lingered between the two of you. The hope began to bubble in your stomach, rising up and squeezing your heart. You wanted to be happy, too, but you wanted to be happy with Kiba. You loved him too, as much as you tried to hide it. And now, you thought that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to be the person you always knew he could be.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but you grabbed his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss. He made a noise of surprise before finally relaxing into it, kissing you back softly. His hand went to the small of your back, pulling you closer.

Then suddenly, he was pulling back, staring down at you with a conflicted expression. “Wait, are you sure?” He asked you. “I don’t want to rush anything, ya know, or mess things up…” 

A small smile played on your lips. He really was changing. “I want to be with you, Kiba. That is… If you still want to be with me?”

Kiba grinned. “So you’re giving me a second chance?” In response, you kissed him again, this time more earnestly than the last. You melted into him easily, everything about him familiar. One of Kiba’s hands was cupping your cheek as his tongue slid across your bottom lip.

Without breaking the kiss, you began to back him up, wanting to go to his room. “Wait,” Kiba was mumbling against your lips, causing you to just hum in response. “We don’t have to do anything,” He tried again. 

The two of you were in his room by now. You finally pulled away,  breathing heavy. “I want to,” You told him, staring up at him with wide, lusting eyes.

Kiba paused, wanting to be sure you were sure. Then he smiled, pulling you into him again. You made a move to pull off your shirt, but he stopped you. “I got this, baby.” He murmured against your neck, laying you down on his bed. 

Kiba continued to lay soft, open mouth kisses as he hovered over you, his hands running down your sides before moving back up, slipping up under your shirt. You shivered feeling the cold of his hands as he began to nip and suck at your skin.

He broke the kiss to pull at the hem of your shirt, peeling it slowly from your body. With it tossed aside, he reattached his lips to your neck, kissing agonizingly slow down to your collarbone. “Kiba,” You whined, your hands going to fumble with the buttons on his pants.

“Not uh, baby girl…” Kiba smirked, taking your hands and pinning them above your head with one of his. “‘Mma take care of you.” The way he breathed the words against your skin made you tremble.

With his free hand, he reached under you to unhook your bra. He released his hold on your hands to pull the fabric from your body before pinning you down again. Kiba kissed lower until he got to your breasts.

His tongue traced over your nipple lightly, making your back arch. You could feel his prideful smile against your skin. His free hand began to massage your breast as he took the entire nipple in his mouth, sucking as he let his tongue flick over the nipple again and again before switching to the other one.

Your mouth was hanging open as you shook with anticipation, your pussy already wet and throbbing. Kiba released your breast before settling between your legs, grinding against your heat as he kissed you fiercely. 

His tongue moved against yours as you felt him hard and dragging against you. There wasn’t enough friction, too much fabric between the two of you. You needed it gone. “Kiba, please,” You whined against his mouth. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down your body, moving down your stomach to your hips. You tried to arch into his touch, but he had your hips pinned.

Unbuttoning your pants, he drug them slowly down your legs, pulling them off and discarding them to the side. His lips skipped past your aching arousal to your inner thighs. He was more rough this time, nipping and sucking harsh bruises into the sensitive skin.

Finally, after an agonizing time of him teasing and kissing anywhere but your covered cunt, he sipped his fingers under the band of your panties, pulling them down to expose your sex.

“You want me, darling?” Kiba askes, kissing at your thighs one last time. You nodded furiously. 

“Please!” You begged. Kiba didn’t waste time after that, pressing two fingers into your dripping cunt, causing you to cry out. He began to pump them steadily as you writhed and moaned underneath him.

His tongue lapped around his fingers before licking your clit with harsh, quick motions. His fingers curled inside of you in time with his licks, leaving you breathless and shaking.

“Kiba, Kiba, Kiba….” You chanted his name like a prayers, begging and pleading for him. 

“Nuh uh. Not until you cum around my fingers…” Kiba taunted, increasing his motions. He lapped at your clint incessantly, his fingers pressing deeper and deeper. The pleasure in you continued to build until you were clenching and cumming around him, screaming his name. 

“You’re so greedy, sweetheart. Your cunts sucking my fingers back inside you.” He laughed softly as he continued his actions, taking his time with you. It was all overwhelming in the best way.

You were almost limp by the time he was pressing inside of you, sliding slow and easy into your dripping pussy. Fully sheathed, he leaned over you, kissing you gently as he rocked himself into you. It was different than his normal, rough pace that he usually set, but it had your head reeling all the same. 

When he had one of your legs over his shoulder, his cock touching parts of you even deeper than your fingers could touch, he pressed kisses into your calves.

“Fuck, you feel so good baby. I love the way you clench around me, pulling me inside you. You don’t want to let my cock go, do you sweetheart? You like being fucked like this, don’t you? Slowly, having to wait for me to give it to you even when you want me to pound you into the bed.”

It was agonizing, the pace he set. It had you coming undone in ways you never had before. Rather than the constant, almost painful overstimulating orgasms you were used to with Kiba, there was only this one, building up steadily and so intense it had you seeing stars. Your vision went white as the coil in your stomach finally unraveled, and you were cuming, cuming so hard you almost arched off Kiba’s cock with a sob.

“There’s my girl,” Kiba mumbled into your neck as your felt his hips start to smack into yours more erratically until he was spilling inside of you, calling your name as his hips continued to jolt into yours as he chased his high. “Fuck,” he breathed, kissing gently down your shoulder.

You were still speechless, the world spinning around you. All you could do was smile up at him, fucked out of your mind. 

“I love you,” Kiba chuckled, pressing a kiss into your lips. “Now, what were you saying about me not knowing how to make a girl feel really good?”

[patchofsunlight]

Warmth | Zuko x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Avatar!Reader AU | Zuko has made many mistakes and holds uncountable regrets, but maybe Y/N can still love him back. Spoiler: she does.

REQUEST (by anon): “Could you do a zuko with maybe a f! avatar? Him falling in love with her like how they joked in ember island play. And him being tormented when she 'dies' in cross roads and them having some tender moment of confessing either in the western temple or ember island? maybe the play has the kiss and he confesses idk”

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: Y/N is the Avatar, so Aang doesn’t exist. kissing, there might be swear words but I don’t really remember, bad editing. lots of mutual pining and some angst. I don’t know if I did this request justice but I really tried?

OBSERVATIONS: there’s a bit of Sokka x Reader bc I’m a weak woman but in the end he’s the main Zuko and Y/N shipper. not having Aang seriously hurt me. I wrote most of the Zuko sad rant in the beginning listening to Words Fail by Ben Platt and I think it would be interesting if you guys listened to that while reading? idk

I hope you all like it!!! feedback is always appreciated, so keep that in mind and thank you very much for reading!!

There was a hole inside his chest that Zuko simply couldn’t get rid of. It hurt him to his core, bringing pained sobs to the edge of his throat and slowly dismantling his soul.

He always thought getting rid of Y/N would quench his anger, rebuild his honor and complete his destiny. Now, his father accepted him again, Mai was his girlfriend, and Azula treated him like a true brother, in her own deranged ways. The Fire Nation considered him a hero, the man who killed the Avatar.

Then why did it trouble him so much? Why did he wake up every night in a cold sweat, with tears stinging his eyes? Why did he have the same nightmare over and over where he was the one responsible for her death, hitting her with lightning and watching as the light inside her disappeared, leaving behind only her idle body and Katara’s desperate cries? Why couldn’t he be satisfied? He had fulfilled his fate. He had done what he was meant to do, sided with his people, and fought against his greatest enemy. Why wasn’t he happy? Why couldn’t he ever be happy?

Back in Ba Sing Se, he saw her at the Jasmine Dragon more than once. He couldn’t believe his eyes when she first entered the teashop, and he was pretty sure she had recognized him, but Y/N managed to send a polite smile in his direction and sit down, greeting “Mushi” with joy. When Zuko served her tea, she asked him what his name was as if she didn’t know. She didn’t confront nor attack him — she simply let him live his new life and went on living hers. It felt like she had washed off his sins, erased the bloodstains he carried in his soul and hands. Y/N freed him of his past and he had thrown it all away.

It was the right thing to do, he had told himself day after day after day. Except it wasn’t, and now Iroh refused to talk to him and the Avatar was probably dead and, in the case she wasn’t, she would never forgive him. She wouldn’t let him be free of himself again and he would never get redemption for his mistakes.

He wished he could go back in time and fight alongside Y/N in that crystal cave, wished he could live up to the trust Katara offered him before they were saved, wished he could have stopped Azula from throwing that lightning bolt. He wished he could do things in the right way, yet he couldn’t. Zuko tried so hard to regain his so-called honor and to bring his father pride but his only real achievement was engulfing himself in guilt and regret, being aware that powerful and forgiving Y/N could be dead because of his lack of dignity and character — this couldn’t be honor. Violence, betrayal, death, and hurt couldn’t be honor, and he wasn’t sure he wanted his father’s pride if it meant feeling like this, like he was no good, like he was not worthy of love or praise or admiration.

Zuko had spent a great part of his life hating himself, but nothing compared to the hate he felt every night after waking up from another crushing nightmare. How dared he make this about himself and his feelings of guilt when the Avatar could be dead? How dared he worry about the Fire Lord’s pride when the world’s last hope was gone? How dared he indulge in self-pity after all he had done? He didn’t deserve pity, didn’t deserve help, he only deserved to wallow in his own pain and die. But that wouldn’t fix anything, neither would it bring Y/N back — he had to act, and he had to do it fast.

Going after Team Avatar was not difficult. He thought he would feel complicated like he had when first betraying Y/N’s trust, thought it would hurt like coming back to the Fire Nation did. Thankfully, leaving only caused a new type of satisfaction to bloom inside his chest, giving him the sensation he was finally walking through the right path. Hope seemed to pour out of every pore in his body and he could somehow think of better, future days when he would have done enough to make up for his mistakes, days when he didn’t feel the urge to scream every time he looked at a mirror. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to despise himself like he currently did, maybe things would be okay and he would be truly happy, if that was even something he had the capability to do.

But then they didn’t want him. He left everything behind, he charged every inch of his hope with the idea of joining the Avatar, and they didn’t want him. Why would they? Why would they, after everything he had done? How could he have even considered they would accept him, that she would trust him again? Of course they didn’t want him. No one did and no one ever would and that was entirely his fault — it was his fault that he was a bad person, took the wrong decisions, and caused pain and destruction. It was his fault he never did the right thing and he should’ve known he would be rejected again, for being rejected was just what he deserved.

But it still hurt. Oh, Spirits, it hurt. She couldn’t even look at him, even after he helped them defeat Combustion Man and was finally accepted in the group. Sadly, it made Zuko realize that, no matter where he stood, he would never be a part of their team, and Y/N would never trust him entirely. For some reason, that was more upsetting than their rejection. He wanted to impress her, wanted her to like him, and she never would.

“Y/N? Can I—can I come in?”

The Avatar looked up from the map she was currently analysing on her bed, studying his figure carefully before nodding with hesitance, “yes. Do you need something?”

He sighed deeply and walked towards her, feeling his heart crack when she brought her legs closer to her body and away from him the moment he sat on the edge of the bed, “I—I just wanted to talk to you about, well, you know, everything.”

Her expression hardened and she averted her eyes back to the map, “we have nothing to talk about, Zuko. You can go back to your room.”

The Fire Nation Prince swallowed nervously, “Y/N, please. I’m so, so sorry. I have made so many mistakes, I—”

“Zuko,” her voice was firm and emotionless, but that quickly changed when she met his gaze, “I thought things could be different. I thought things could be different back in the North Pole, when we first talked to each other and you told me about Azula. I thought things could be different when you saved me as the Blue Spirit. And I was so convinced things would be different when we met again in Ba Sing Se that I—” she scoffed at her own words, “I had a crush on you, can you believe that? That’s why I visited the teashop so regularly, I just wanted to see you. Stupid, of course. I should’ve known.”

Zuko was sure she could hear his anxious heart beating from the other side of the bed. They were less than a foot away, and yet it felt like miles. He didn’t want her to think about him like that, he didn’t want her to be disappointed in him. Damn, she used to have a crush on him, she liked him, and he screwed everything up like usual. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m—I’m here now, I’m on your side.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were on my side back then too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You need to teach me firebending and that’s the only reason you’re allowed here. Talking is unnecessary.”

“Please, I—”

“You should leave, Prince Zuko,” he flinched at the title escaping her lips, hating how it sounded bitter coming from her, “I have really important matters to deal with. We’ll start my firebending training tomorrow.” 

“Y/N—”

“Leave, Zuko.”

With a heaviness inside his stomach, he left the room, missing if by a second the frustrated tear that ran down Y/N’s cheek. She wanted to trust him, but how could she? How could she let him in after his betrayal? She had always been forgiving, but she refused to be naive — seeing Zuko side with Azula in the crystal caves hurt her deeply and shoved her little crush on him down her throat. She couldn’t go through that again, it would be simply idiotic to. Y/N had to stand her ground. She wouldn’t be hurt by him again.

-----

“Hey, jerks. Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerkbending?”

“Get out of—” Zuko was interrupted by the Avatar’s laughter. Sokka smiled softly at her, cheeks blushing. For some reason, that only managed to piss Zuko off even more, “get out of here!”

“Okay, take it easy. I was just kidding around,” the Water Tribe boy winked at Y/N, “see you later?”

“Sure, we still need to see that part of the temple we found yesterday. Exploration partners!”

“Exploration partners!” he agreed with a chuckle and turned away from them. “Bye, Y/N. Jerkbending… Still got it.”

Zuko glanced at her with irritation while she watched Sokka leave. He felt already incredibly frustrated for not being able to produce his fire and not knowing why, he definitely did not need to watch as Sokka and Y/N flirted. 

They would make a cute couple, though, and she smiled so brightly at him it was physically painful to watch. He wanted her to smile like that at him, look like that at him. But she wouldn’t — she was over her crush and had no reason to ever feel anything towards him again, not after what he had done. He didn’t deserve her love anyway, so maybe it was for the best.

“So? Any progress, Sifu Hotman?”

“I told you not to call me that,” he snarled angrily and she sighed.

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman.”

“This was a mistake,” he sat down roughly, ignoring the ache on his legs due to the sudden movement, “maybe teaching you firebending is not my destiny.”

She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding, “what do you mean?”

“How can I teach you anything when I’ve lost my fire, Y/N?” he chuckled sadly, letting one of his hands go through his hair in distress. “I wanted to be on the good side of the war and I can’t even make myself useful.”

“You haven’t lost your fire, Zuko,” her voice was careful, “I think you’re just going through some internal conflict and that’s reflecting on your bending, but if you were meant to teach me firebending, you will. Your destiny is still your destiny regardless, Sifu Hotman.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the Avatar! I’m not even sure who I am anymore, but you have always known what your destiny was.”

“Yeah, and I was scared of it,” she smiled softly, “I ran away and disappeared for a hundred years. People died because of my absence. I have made mistakes, and I have failed many, many times. Sadly, that doesn’t make me less of an Avatar. Zuko, if you must be my teacher, it’s gonna work. We’ll figure things out and you will get your fire back. Okay?”

He stared inside her eyes. There was still some sort of mistrust in them — she was willing to help him because she needed him, but still suspicious. She wasn’t really sure he was on their side, but this was a start. He was going to fix everything and he would make her proud. He would make Y/N happy to call him a friend. Or something more.

Maybe he had a crush on her, too.

-----

Toph’s idea to look for the original source of firebending had greatly backfired (no pun intended, even though Y/N could clearly hear Sokka’s laughter in her head at the joke). They traveled to the Sun Warriors’ ancient city and found an impressive temple adorned with statues. Things were going surprisingly well until they weren’t, and now they were stuck in a disgusting glue because Zuko touched the pretty gemstone. Hours had passed and Y/N was increasingly more annoyed at their situation.

“You had to pick up the glowing egg, didn’t you?”

“At least I made something happen! If it were up to you, we’d never have made it past the courtyard.”

“Maybe, but we wouldn’t be stuck here either, so did you really win?”

Zuko rolled his eyes, “this is stupid. How are we getting out of here?”

“Help!” the girl screamed as loudly as she could, being met with only silence.

“Who are you yelling to? Nobody’s lived here for centuries,” the Fire Prince argued and it was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Well, what do you think we should do, genius?”

“Think about our place in the universe?”

Despite her current irritation, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words. He instinctively smiled back and she felt warmth spread through her chest.

She was starting to think she wasn’t as over her crush on him as she thought.

They were rescued by the Sun Warriors and judged by the last dragons, and Y/N was sure she hadn’t felt this alive in a while. After burning Katara (it was so long ago it seemed like a different life), she had thought of fire as something destructive, harmful, but she could now see it with new eyes. Fire could be love, life, and power. 

The Avatar glanced at Zuko. Maybe she could try and see him as that, too. 

-----

“You did well today,” Zuko complimented warily, avoiding her gaze, “if we keep up the training, you might become a better firebender than me.”

“Why, thank you, Hotman,” she smiled brightly and Zuko was sure he could pass out right there, “I just have a great teacher.”

“Y/N!”

The Avatar felt Sokka before she saw him, laughing at the way he hugged her from behind joyfully, leaning his chin on her shoulder. “Hey, honey. What’s up?”

“Doing fine,” he mumbled, brushing her hair off his face delicately, “wanna grab something to eat?”

“I think I’m gonna train some more and clean myself later. I’ll meet you after?”

“Sure! I’ll be back inside. See you, Y/N, Zuko.”

They both watched as the Water Tribe boy entered the temple again. There was a weird burning sensation running through Zuko’s blood when he asked, voice slightly raspy and overly quiet, “so, you and Sokka, huh? You make a nice couple.”

She turned her head to him so quickly it almost gave her whiplash, “what? No! I mean—” she blushed at the question, flustered by the fact he would even consider something like that. The Fire Prince waited silently, irritation surfacing at her stammering. He wasn’t sure why that angered him so much, but he decided to be still and listen, “we are just friends,” she concluded, “he means a lot to me, but so do Katara and Toph, you know? We are—we are just friends. He even likes that Kyoshi Warrior, Suki! So, yeah, we are definitely not a couple.”

“I see,” Zuko felt curiously static with that piece of information, “and you don’t have feelings for him?”

“No, of course not. I mean, I had a thing for him when we first met, but now it’s gone. He’s my best friend and I love him, just not like that.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Good?” Y/N turned her head to the side in confusion and he paled considerably, finally noticing the meaning of his own words. “Why is that good?”

“Oh? I—it’s good that you love him! Yeah, having friends is amazing, right? Yeah.”

She smiled amusingly, “it truly is.”

“Yeah.”

The Avatar chuckled lightly, “come on, Sifu Hotman. Let’s do that leg movement again, I think I’m not doing it right.”

Days passed and a lot of things happened. Zuko knew Y/N wouldn’t be happy with Sokka’s suicide mission, but he couldn’t let him do it alone, so he accompanied him to the Boiling Rock. Again, she wasn’t happy when he followed Katara for revenge for her mother’s death, but then at least someone had Katara’s back and was ready to protect her. He desperately wanted to earn Y/N’s trust and friendship, but that was rather difficult when he insisted on doing the stuff she didn’t want him to do.

They continued their training on Ember Island and the whole Team seemed to thoroughly enjoy the place. Y/N was giving her all to learn firebending and was succeeding splendidly. To be honest, Zuko loved to see her get the moves right — every single time she made it, she would look at him with bright eyes and grin. It was the most beautiful sight Zuko had ever seen and he would do anything to have it permanently engraved in his mind.

They stayed up late during one particular night. They were both exhausted after hours of training and ended up sat beside each other on the ground on the back of the Fire Nation Royal Family’s beach house. The air between them was filled with silence and heavy breathing from their previous effort.

“Hey, Zuko?” after a few moments, Y/N called him gently, voice tired and raspy giving him chills. She laid down and stared at the dark sky. “Look at the stars with me.”

He blinked, “really? I mean, shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Please?” her eyes met his and his heart skipped a beat. “Just for a bit.”

“Okay,” Zuko whispered, lying down next to her. They looked at the sky quietly for a bit.

He liked to be around her. It could be the Avatar thing, but Y/N had a calming aura around her that was just unmissable. Being next to her like this gave him the feeling things would be alright, the feeling he was not worthless. It was a lie, of course. There was no way to know how their plans would go, and he was pretty much worthless.

But being beside her was enough to trick his mind. Maybe the little crush he harbored towards her had become something more — Spirits, he liked her so much. Not that it mattered, considering there was no way she would ever love him back, not after everything he had done.

“When I was younger, I believed we became stars when we died.”

He turned his head to look at her, “really?”

She turned to look back and his breath hitched at their close proximity. She chuckled, “yeah. I didn’t even know I was the Avatar back then, I was so young. They told me when I was sixteen, and I ran away shortly after,” there was bitterness to her words, “like a coward.”

“You are not a coward, Y/N. You had no way of knowing how things would go.”

“You really think so?”

“I do. Besides, if you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have been stuck on ice for a hundred years, and I would never have met you, which would be awful,” he widened his eyes, completing quickly, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. I wouldn’t have met them either. Of course.”

Her smile was so pretty he forgot how to breathe, “you’re right, Zuko. I don’t think I would have liked to live a life where I never met you,” she smirked before going on with teasing eyes, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. Of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed with a blush on his face. They stared at each other carefully and Zuko was pretty sure his heart was performing a professional routine of somersaults inside his body. He definitely was past just a simple crush.

Y/N smiled that dazzling smile of hers before averting her gaze to the stars again and yawning. “We should go in.”

“We should,” the Fire Prince immediately started to sit up, but she held him down with a hand to his chest, and probably felt his crazy heartbeat under her fingers.

“Just a bit more, Prince Zuko,” she whispered, eyes trained to the sky. Slowly but surely, she moved her hand from his chest to his own hand, creating goosebumps on every inch of skin she lightly touched on the way there. Zuko could feel his body burn at the barely-there feeling of her fingertips. She intertwined her fingers with his carefully, giving him the chance to pull away if he so wished. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed her hand. She immediately squeezed his back in reassurance.

In the middle of the quiet and comfort they suddenly found in each other, they fell asleep under the stars, fingers playing with each other until exhaustion finally engulfed them in dreams of pretty smiles and light touches.

It was nice to dodge the nightmares.

-----

“I’ve heard you and Zuko slept outside today,” Sokka had a teasing tone to his voice. Y/N glared at him, “you are together now or something?”

“We are not,” she countered, scratching Appa while they talked. Zuko, Toph, Katara, and Suki had left for the beach already. Y/N still needed to feed her sky bison and Sokka offered to help with the excuse of being a good friend. The Avatar was absolutely sure that wasn’t the real reason he stayed back alongside her and he was currently proving her right, “we were just stargazing and then fell asleep.”

“Stargazing, huh? Real cute. I bet it was an endearing impromptu date, wasn’t it?”

“Since when do you even know the word impromptu?”

“I am always full of surprises.”

“Right,” she rolled her eyes and he laughed loudly, “it was not a date.”

“But you do like him, right?.”

“What?” she turned her entire body to him, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms in a defensive stance. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I know you better than you know yourself and I can tell you have feelings for him,” Sokka copied her movements, staring at her with a smirk, “I also know he likes you back.”

Y/N scoffed and transferred her attention back to Appa, “he does not.”

“So you admit you like him!”

“Shut up, Sokka!” she glared, but quickly gave up under his intense eyes and raised brows. “Yeah, I like him. It doesn’t matter, though.”

“Yes, it does! He feels the same! Look, what about this,” he leaned in closer, that crazy look he had whenever making up a plan taking over his face, “we are going to watch that play about us tonight, right? Well, you guys can sit next to each other! Like a couple!”

“That’s a terrible idea, honey.”

“It’s not! I bet he’s gonna make a move!”

“He won’t, because he’s not in love with me.”

“Wait, you’re in love with him?”

Y/N’s entire body tensed up. She shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t in love with Zuko! Was she? I mean, she did love to be beside him, and her heart sped up when he gave her one of his rare smiles, and training with him when he had his shirt off was distracting to say the least. Besides, he really seemed to have changed and grown — she felt like she could trust him again, but she could never be sure, and she was adamant on not getting hurt once more. Especially now, when she was dealing with so many things. If he betrayed her a second time… Spirits, it would be just too much to handle.

“I don’t know,” she muttered and Sokka’s cheeky smile faltered, “I don’t want to be.”

He stretched an arm out to hold her hand fondly, “it’s fine, Y/N. Whatever happens, I’m here for you, okay?”

The Avatar smiled sadly, “thank you, Sokka. I’m really glad to have you in my life.”

“I know, honey. I’m great like that.”

She laughed loudly and he grinned in satisfaction, turning her body around and starting to lead her towards the beach, an arm through her shoulders holding her close to his body.

“Shut up, Sokka. You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”

Zuko felt a pang to his chest when Sokka and Y/N arrived at the beach holding each other so dearly, but he knew he had no right to complain. She would be better off with Sokka anyway — he was good-looking, nice, funny, smart. Meanwhile, Zuko was nothing but a sad mixture of mistakes and regrets. The Avatar deserved more than that.

“Hey, Hotman,” she walked to him with a smile, planting a kiss on Sokka’s cheek before leaving his side. “Why are you all alone on the sand?”

“Because he’s boring,” Toph answered from some feet away and Katara chuckled. Zuko could feel his face redden.

“He is not,” Y/N argued amusingly, sitting down beside him and grinning. She glanced at him with a happy spark in her eyes, “are you excited for the play tonight?”

“No,” he muttered, but his lack of vivacity didn’t bother her in the slightest, “the Ember Island plays are always ridiculous.”

“I think it’s going to be fun,” she shrugged contently, basking in the hot sun, “if it isn’t, we can always throw food at the stage or whatever.”

He tried really hard, but couldn’t bit back the smile that took over his frown. He watched her attentively, noticing how she seemed to glow in the daylight, giving off this incredible warmth he had only ever seen on her. He averted away his gaze, feeling his neck and face heat up at how unapologetically beautiful she was.

Zuko cleared his throat quietly, “yeah, I guess.”

She only smirked in response.

-----

The play could be worse, he figured. Yes, their portrayal of him was horrible (even though his friends — could he call them friends? Were they friends? He hoped they were — said otherwise) and the actress playing Y/N was not nearly as pretty as the Avatar really was, but Y/N was next to him and, at some point, she had leaned her head on his shoulder tiredly and stayed there. All the training was getting to her and he felt inexplicable joy in the fact she trusted him enough to rest her body on his.

“Look,” her voice was raspy from sleepiness and a chill ran down his spine, “I think now is when you join Team Avatar and becomes our friend.”

He nodded carefully not to disturb her from her position and his heart skipped a beat when she nuzzled closer to his neck. Zuko watched as actor Zuko was accepted into the group and just after a scene with only him and actress Y/N started. Actor Zuko stared at the actress longingly, “my dear Y/N… I know I have wronged you in many ways, but I wanted to apologize for my mistakes and beg for your forgiveness!”

Y/N giggled at that, nudging him affectionately, “that really happened.”

He smiled, eyes following the performers on stage. Actor Zuko continued, “your forgiveness… And maybe your love, Avatar.”

They both immediately tensed up at the words and Y/N moved her head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion.

“My love, Prince Zuko?”

“Yes, my darling.”

They all watched as Actor Zuko and Actress Y/N kissed passionately, earning cheers from the audience. Sokka whistled loudly and Y/N turned to glare at him, receiving a wink in return.

“I have been in love with you since we first met!” Actor Zuko declared excitedly, holding Actress Y/N’s hands. “You are the only one who can make me forget about my teen angst. I love you, Y/N.”

“Well… I don’t!” Actress Y/N moved away swiftly and the crowd gasped in surprise. “I have accepted you in my group, Prince Zuko… But I’ll never accept you in my heart! You’re a bad person that doesn’t deserve my love!”

“What?!” Sokka almost screamed in disbelief. Y/N finally took her head off Zuko’s shoulder, incertitude swimming in her eyes. Before she had the chance to speak, Zuko had already left. The Water Tribe boy widened his eyes at her. “Go after him!”

Y/N nodded her head, getting out of her seat and walking after Zuko, calling his name. He ignored her, feeling anger boil inside him. He knew she would never directly say something like that, but he also knew it was true. She would never love him — he wasn’t worthy of her love, and he was pretty sure she was aware of that too.

“Zuko, wait!” she finally catched up to him, holding his arm and pulling him back. “It’s just a stupid play, Zuko. None of that is true.”

“Really, Y/N?” he turned to stare at her, rage covering his expression. “Because I’m almost certain it is. They said I don’t deserve love, Y/N, and that’s true. After everything I’ve done…”

“No!” she exclaimed desperately, shaking her head vehemently in disagreement. “Zuko, of course you deserve love. Yes, you have made mistakes, but all of us have. You shouldn’t care about what some actress says.”

“But they’re right, Y/N,” he insisted, feeling tears stinging his eyes, “I’m unworthy of love and everyone knows, and that’s why nobody actually loves me.”

“I love you!” she yelled out before she could stop herself, breath hitching at the troubled look taking over his face. Y/N sighed deeply, crossing her arms shyly and looking away, “I do,” her voice was small as she blushed, “I thought I was over my little crush for you but I wasn’t, and it’s—it’s much more than a little crush. I was afraid of admitting it but I know who you are, Zuko. You are loyal and smart and so inherently good and I love you. Spirits, I really do.”

  He stared at her for a second, processing her words. She fidgeted anxiously and he smiled at all her small manners. With certainty to his movements, Zuko took a step forwards and cradled her face in his hands. He studied every inch of her expression, waiting for some kind of rejection. She offered him a hopeful smile and he was quick to smash his lips with hers, feeling the warmth that always surrounded her consume him entirely. He kissed her passionately, happiness pouring out of him — the words “she loves you” echoing inside his mind like a broken record, filling his heart with joy.

She moved away when there was no more air in her lungs, breathing heavily and grinning like a mad woman. Y/N lifted her arm and touched his scar so fondly it physically hurt. Never before had he been touched with such care and it made tears flood his eyes, something she instantly noticed, giggling at his cuteness and drying one running tear with her thumb. She felt like her chest was full. He kissed her thumb lovingly when it rested near his mouth. 

She loved him. She thought he was worthy of love, of her love, even after everything he had done. No matter how many mistakes he had made, she still loved him, and that thought was enough to make Zuko feel some sort of hope towards the future.

Spirits, she really loved him.

“I love you too, Y/N. Very, very much.”

is it good? not really. could it be worse? yeah lmao

taglist: @bottledcostcowater @lammello @coldlilheart @azucanela @samsmultifandomblogs and @knaite-solo that asked to be tagged on this particular piece

thank you all for reading!! I hope you liked it!!

[saby-chan]

Why the ATLA comics fail when it comes to Zuko and his family

To whom ever took their time to actually stop and read this post, thank you in advance for not skipping my post and willing to stay and read my humble opinion! I hope I won’t disappoint you!

As a relatively newcomer to the ATLA fanbase since 2020, I’ve come across a lot of interesting debates, comments and rants about the show, characters and fandom in general, but nothing has captivated me as much as the dumpster-on-fire that are the ATLA comics, more specifically: The Promise and The Search. 

On one hand we have the hardcore fans who want them to be animated or serialized into the Netflix live action, praising the comics for the new views and subject matters they’ve brought into the show’s lore, while on the other hand we have the furious Azula fandom who is really angry for the fact that best girl didn’t get the redemption arc she rightfully deserved so much after the painful event that was the Last Agni Kai and the even more angry fans of the Urzai ship (yeah, the people who actually ship Zuko’s parents unironically) who hated the retconning of the show’s cannon since the comics basically took a huge fat dump on what was previously established as official cannon, when the Search entered the scene, but between these two sides, who has the more valid point? In the end, are the comics good cannon or bad written fanfiction?

Well... Here are my two cents on this matter since I myself happen to be an Azula and Zuko fan and had huge expectations from these comics (since I wanted more from my fave hot-headed fiery siblings duo) but ended up disappointed: the comics are indeed a huge mess and actually bad written fanfiction when it comes to Zuko and his family! Don’t click off yet, because I actually documented the reasons why exactly the comics fail in this area:

1. The author of these comics is not part of the BryKe duo

Yes, I would like to start with the fact that if you actually take a second to look up who in the heck took the time to write these two books, you won’t find Bryan, nor Mike, but a fellow man named Gene Yang. This is important because while the wiki of both The Promise and The Search state BryKe as the creators, that doesn’t mean that they were the actual minds behind these comics, but rather because ATLA is their “baby” and these comics involve their characters, over which they have copyright. Mr. Yang here is the actual brain behind the plot, as the main writer, which explains why we find huuuuge inconsistencies between the show lore and the comics, especially Zuko wise.

My main issue with Mr. Yang isn’t that he isn’t BryKe specifically, but because he did an unforgivable mistake in his writing process: He projected himself into Zuko’s character, based on the relationship Zuko had with his father. This is a documented fact from an interview in which he explains that he sees himself and his dad’s relationship into Zuko and Ozai and used that when writing their interactions and built Zuko’s character in the comics. And this is wrong because when you have an already very developed and complex character such as Zuko, you can’t just come in and be like “Oh, I was an angsty teen just like him in my teenage years, fighting with my dad and whatnot, so he must have the same thought process as me!”. NO! This is bad fanfiction writer behavior! Zuko has his own personality and philosophy, which he developed over the course of 3 seasons and is not defined by only 1 unfortunate aspect of his past, so you can’t just base his whole mindset and actions off of your own personal experience just because you had the same daddy issues he had!

2. The whole “Promise that you will kill me if I turn out like my dad!” nonsense in The Promise

Reason number 2 why these comics fail and go under the category of “bad fanfiction” is because they fail to convey the core essence of the source material. The whole point of Zuko’s redemption was that he realized the wrongdoings of his ancestors and his own mistakes. He outgrew his desire of gaining his father’s acknowledgement in favor of choosing his own destiny. Having him worry that he’ll turn into his father is utter nonsense and feels like poor angsty drama material for the sake of angst. At this point in time, Zuko has overcame that obstacle in his life a long time ago and should be at the level where he himself is the “Uncle Iroh” for other people and in no way someone concerned of becoming their own worst enemy!

Not only that, but the whole point of Aang’s journey and the story of the show as a whole was to teach us, the viewers, the importance of forgiveness, empathy and love in life. Aang didn’t spare Ozai, aka “the ultimate evil” just to flex in front of his pals or because he is a “ 12 y/o vegan pacifist monk kid”, but because he knew that killing someone, no matter of what they did or wanted to do, wouldn’t restore balance into the Universe, on the contrary, him killing the villain would have meant perpetuating the “endless cycle of hate” that plagued the world. So having Aang promise to kill his best friend in case “they turned into an evil maniac like their dad” contradicts Aang’s whole character and it’s a nonsense that throws into the trash what we’ve learnt throughout the entire TV series.

3. Azula deserved (and was supposed) to have a redemption ark

This might still be pure speculation, but I count it as a documented reason because I’ve heard quite a few people saying that there should’ve been a book 4 in the show, aka “Book 4: Air”, and no, it wasn’t The Search, but actually Zuko and Azula’s journey as Zuko helps his younger sister heal her broken mind by being her very own “Uncle Iroh”. Sure, they prolly were going to end up looking for Ursa, but the journey should’ve ended with them actually being happy and a family again and not the bs we got in The Search where a still very unstable Azula runs away and becomes the “Next Joker”! The only problem is that M. Night had to pop up and curse the world with his movie, which forced BryKe to delay the project (and eventually abandoned it in favor of Korra).

All in all, either if BryKe had this preplanned or not, it made sense for Azula to get a redemption ark, she deserved it because she was just a broken 14 y/o child! If Katara’s mom’s murderer deserved to be forgiven, so did this poor child who had no fault for what happened to her since she had a dysfunctional family! What Gene Yang did in his poorly written fanfiction was to just antagonize a broken child, turning her into a monster for the sake of friggin angst!

4. The Search is the worst of the two, being flat af character wise

And finally, getting to the point that I personally find the most annoying about these comics: The Search. This one... This one is a mess on a hella lot many levels, and just to list a few: characters are flat as fudge, being either black as vanta black (like Ozai and Azula) or pure white like Gene’s Gary Stue OC, Mr Ikem (or how I like to call him, IKEA man) and his ‘victim’ rendition of Ursa, Azula gets to suffer more for no reason (see reason number 3 to why I find this as a no no), Ursa’s whole character sucks ass (man, I could write a whole thesis on why Yang’s version of her is terrible and doesn’t match the strong woman we got in the show) and Zuko does morally wrong stuff (my man literally used his unstable sister to bribe their dad into spitting info about Ursa... Show Zuko would never do that!;-;)

Oh boy, as a person who’s seen a ton of anime and other media and read many books, I can’t begin on how much I despise this type of writing: flat characters are the worst!

 ATLA characters in the show are nothing close to being flat! What I mean by that is that none of them fall perfectly into pure white (aka goodest of good characters with no imperfections) or vanta black (aka lowest and darkest twisted monsters out there), each of them are various shades of grey (like Aang who is a very light grey because despite being a very kind and nice character, he still isn’t a “perfect hero” since he ran away from his duties, practiced tax fraud with Toph, had insecurities and even threatened to kill people on ocassions like with the sand benders who took Appa) and this is a good choice because that prevents them from becoming what’s globally known as Mary Sues and Gary Stues (aka those either “perfect” characters with no flaws and/or unlimited power, or the twisted monsters full of flaws).

And the other reason why many other people hate The Search: it literally negates previously established cannon. And here comes my short essay on why this comic fails Zuko’s family (since we’ve already talked enough about Zuko himself).

In cannon and even interviews with BryKe, it was clearly stated that Zuko’s family was “once happy”. Where is this “once happy” family in The Search? All I see is pain, deception, lies and betrayal, nothing close to anything that resembles happiness. Okay, some of you might come in and say that “It’s because it was never the case! It was only lies and Zuko trying to convince himself that he didn’t live in hell forever!” and here is WHERE YOU WERE ALL WRONG! And why? Because, my dear fella, where were depicted the flashbacks of Zuko’s “happy family” in The Beach? Ember Island. And what do we know and had been even quoted in the show?  "Like waves washing away the footprints on the sand, Ember Island gives everyone a clean slate. Ember Island reveals the true you." (direct quote from the show). Exactly, no matter who you are or how hard you try, you can’t hide your true self when you are on the Ember Island, best example being Azula, who’s impenetrable though shell cracked and revealed the true vulnerable child that was underneath. If Azula couldn’t resist the “spell of the island”, no one can. So this means that Zuko’s family was indeed happy once and yes, Ozai wasn’t always the douchebag we got to know in Season 3 (I have a whole nother essay on my theories regarding what could be his real past story and why he’s actually the “Zuko” of his generation, based on stuff I gathered from old wiki entries and character analyses I made, but that’s for another time, lemme know if ya’ll are interested).

And what I guess is the biggest proof why The Search did this family’s past trash is comics Ursa herself. My dude, if this woman were indeed the victim of years of endless abuse and never loved her husband, I guarantee you that she would’ve been closer to what we saw in Todoroki’s mom from BNHA and Zuko would’ve gotten that scar or even worse long before the Agni Kai, not from his “daddy dearest”, but from “mommy dearest” herself, because no sane woman would be soo affectionate and attached to a child that’s the perfect copy of their abuser, sepecially appearance wise (again see Todoroki’s mom’s case from BNHA because the stories are really similar) and in no way would’ve she been willing to sacrifice her life for said child’s sake. With this ocassion, I remind ya’ll folks that according to the ancient ATLA cannon wikis on Nick’s site, Ozai was designed with Zuko’s appearance in mind, being meant to be like a “grown up scarless version” of Zuko. So yeah, remember this with a grain of salt that whenever you simp over grown up Zuko, you involuntary simp for Ozai too.

So yeah, I guess this kinda concludes my “not so short” rant about why the comics fail and are bad fanfiction. Lemme hear your thoughts in the comments and if you agree, feel free to leave a like and even reblog.

Bye bye and remember that Momo is the true strongest character of the show!

 Saby out.

[problemswithbooks]

Endeavor and All Might interacting after the war is such lost potential it’s disappointing

Yeah, it really is, especially when I think Enji and All Might could have had a more meaningful interaction overall then All Might had with Stain.

I mean, I love Stain and am really happy he had more screen time, but it didn't really contribute much in the long run, that Enji couldn't have done better given his more fleshed out character and connection to All Might.

All Might was clearly seeing all the destruction and Izuku's spiral as his fault, and coming to terms with the fact that his way of doing things wasn't the big fix he thought it was. I'm sure hearing about Enji's abuse due to his desire to surpass him didn't help either. In that moment he feels like he wasted his life and that he's a complete failure--it's his darkest moment.

And Enji's just had his darkest moment to, plus he understands the feeling of having realized his choices led to long term failure and pain for others. Also Toshi gave him advice when he first became 1# and it's be great to have a call back to that.

The thing is, Toshinori does need cheering up in that moment, but I can see why some people thought it was completely absolving him of any bad choices he made, or fluffing him up. One of Stain's few character traits is his obsession with All Might being the only Hero--he's a fan boy, so his words come across as pure praise, even if I think Hori was trying to have the moment have more depth.

With Enji being the one to talk to him, he can relate to All Might instead. it would be better framed as "yes, some of your choices ended up causing problems, but not everything you did was bad", instead of "you've actually never done anything wrong and are perfect". Enji has been in that head space before and in a way still is, but unlike Enji All Might did do good and did try to help as many people as possible. Having Enji acknowledge that All Might did inspire people for the better over all and admit that his obsession was his own fault not Toshi's would be huge for his character as well.

Giving them this moment would feel like a conclusion to their relationship as well, because Enji's dislike for All Might wasn't fully addressed back when he asked for advice. Toshi didn't have all the facts then about Enji's ugly obsession, and didn't seem to feel much for him at all past 'coworker'. This puts them on more equal footing and lets them talk more openly about their mistakes and how they want to fix them.

It could end with the core message of bnha--plus ultra, aka trying your best and going beyond limitations. Yes, they both fucked up (one way more then the other) but they can keep going and continue to try to do better. Not everything Toshi did ended in despair and he did some really good things that helped spark the desire to help people in others, but those choices that ended in something bad, Toshi can get back up, do his best to learn from his mistakes and fix them as best he can.

It's just a more impactful scene then the one with Stain because they're both far more fleshed out as characters and have an actual history to work off of. It can still happen in Kamino, and honestly it'd be really symbolic later if during the scene it was Enji who takes the sign of the All Might statue, while Touya later destroys it. They can also get the info about the time frame closing from a recovery team at Tarturus or something--though I see no reason to shift the deadline one way, only to have it go back to what it was prior due to Star's sacrifice. It'd make more sense to have a small time skip before Star's fight, and have her actually extend the deadline for them. That way we feel like Izuku got more of a break, and training time between then and the second war.

As for Stain, I don't really know. He hasn't show back up in the story yet so it's hard to say if that conversation with All Might had any long term effect on him. Or how/if he'll have any sort of small arc of his own with Iida. If this was supposed to be a turning point for him he'd have to be included somehow, but I doubt that's going to be the case. But only time will tell how taking him out of the scene would impact the story. For the moment though having it be Enji instead seems to work way better.

[kyoupann]

Please do more of the writing head canons. It’s really interesting to see other people’s ideas on the topic, so if you can be bothered, I would highly appreciate more, thanks bye <3

Y’all don’t know how happy I am to talk about these headcanons, they are my babies and I love them so much :’) thanks for asking g <3

Handwriting Headcanons

Same dynamic as before, try to guess whose handwriting it is before reading and tell me how many you got right! <3

You can find the first post here (no need to check it tho)

Quick disclaimer: halfway through making my initial notes, I remembered I had one (1) single lesson of graphology in my applied linguistics class, but that was a year ago and some information might be off. I just thought it was neat to include.

Another quick disclaimer: I don’t know much about Hylian, but I like to think it has a similar stroke system to Japanese, so the pressure and accuracy of your strokes play a major role in your handwriting (among other things, ofc.) so there are some parts where I focus more on that

(First Row, from left to right)

Sky

Our first boy is mother hen! Believe it or not, he has the prettiest handwriting out of all of them! Sky: probably has nice, even elegant handwriting because Sun forced him to practice when they were little. In the end, that paid off because his handwriting is the prettiest one. There’s no pressure, but he is confident in what he writes that his lines aren’t thin. Mistakes? what is that? this boy has impeccable grammar and spelling. No mechanic errors to be found in his letters! I’d like to think that many of Hyrule’s classic/staple poems were originally written by the firt king aka sky child. Like, imagine, after a retiring from being a Person of Power (as the first ruler), Sky finds comfort in the arts: revisits his old woodcarvings and starts writing poetry about the world he still doesn’t fully understand. wowie. tldr: sky writes poetry and you can pry it from my cold dead hands.

This is what one of his letters would look like: 

Next one is the one and only, our Hero of Time

2. Time

I’ll die on the “Time didn’t know how to read and write” hill. His handwriting is simple, not pretty but not messy. It has some grammar and spelling mistakes here and there. Can become unreadable if writing in a hurry, he sorts of forgets spaces between words are a thing/letters have different sizes and lowercase letters end up the same size as capital letters. I’m not saying he sometimes forgets to write articles: he just doesn’t want to. Honestly, he just has this dad-neat handwriting. He is a gentle dad and writes like a dad, if he puts too much pressure onto the paper, his handwriting become too sharp/angle-ish and ends up looking ugly. And as much as he would like to not care about it, in the end he does (:

Malon taught him how to write and it was quite the experience. At first he didn’t want to because he was ‘too old’ to learn and it was torture at first, but now look at him devouring his cowboy novels. 

A chunk of his handwriting: 

*sniff* such a dad quote.

3. my mansss, your  4x1 deal at Target: Four

Look, my boy is patient! He could do some nice and fancy lettering if he wanted to. He was taught that handwriting and spelling said a whole lot about him as a person, you know, like a first impression kinda thing; so he always proof reads more than twice before sending ­a letter. Super rare grammar mistakes.

The faster he writes, the more slant his writing becomes. Under stress/ when not sure how to write things down, run-on sentences are everywhere and his handwriting is inconsistent in general (I don’t headcanon each part of him having completely different handwriting because handwriting becomes muscle memory over time. It’s just slightly different variations of the same, like idk  Vio’s handwriting is neater than Green’s and Red writes hearts instead of any dot/circle and no, I do not take constructive criticism on that, jk i do.) Adding on to each of the colours’ handwriting, I’d think Red and Green write with words slanted to the right( inclined), Vio is a mix of the opposite, so reclined and straight, and my mans blue a true neutral writes straight (kinda like Time’s).

The logic behind this is that inclined writing supposedly means honesty and need for giving (and getting) affection; reclined means, as you can probably imagine,  defensiveness and repression of true feelings, but also shows great concentration; straight handwriting means self-control, observation and reflection as well as distrust and indifference. But as complete being (tm), Four just writes as in the image example which is not too straight and not too inclined, and I believe that’s a good middle for him

HOWEVER, if I’m feeling in the mood for crack, I totally accept this boy to have the ugliest, chicken scratches-looking handwriting! :’D It’s just funny to think that someone like him, who has to be precise and careful in his work, can't write neatly to save his life. 

One of his letters would look like this: 

Also I just LOVE how his hero titles look in this font ksksks

and that’s

(Middle row, from left to right)

4.- Mister Bunny Boy - Legend

His uncle taught him how to write. I’d call his handwriting pretty and neat at a first glance, but he presses too hard on the paper, most of the time staining the back or the following page. Sometimes will retrace some words if he doesn’t like how it looks (which only makes it messier). According to my notes, a thick or strong handwriting represents determination/commitment.

As I also headcanon him to know many languages, mechanical errors are more present than grammar ones; that is, weird capitalisation of words. Punctuation is somewhere in between; uses too many commas when he should just cut the sentence. he mixes punctuation from two languages or more in writing when too distracted (or too focused, because, well, pressure.); when he writes for himself, he has almost no problem following said language’s punctuation rules. Also, this is just polyglot culture, and I’m projecting a bit, but when he forgets a word in the language he’s writing, he just replaces it with its equivalent in another language because we don’t care about fluency, but rather functionality. in this household (more on that in my language hc, ksksks).

An example of his writing:

so powerful

4.-  Mr. Wolfman, howl me a song - Twilight

I don’t have much for him because 1) I don’t think he writes a lot and 2) he is a hands-on/visual learner, I’ll die by that. He only learnt how to write because Ulli insisted it was important and he was not about to disrespect his momma; he IS That Guy, but doesn’t really write enough to have neat handwriting.

Many people seem to overlook the fact that his house is filled with books and write him as completely illiterate (which if not explored properly, ends up feeling a bit disrespectful and full of prejudice, but go off I guess; and that’s on my core Headcanons for Twi); however, he sticks to simple sentences. Knowing how to read and understanding a text is different from knowing how to write them. Like, when we would see a semicolon and understand its position in the text, but didn’t understand the nature of it. Is this clear? idk i’m sorry. So yeah, boy reads a lot, writes very little.

As for his Actual Handwriting, as opposed to Legend, his handwriting is thiccc but not because he presses into the paper; he is just that messy, he has no sense of ink-flow-control, he does what he can with what he has. To the untrained eye, his handwriting illegible letters like v, n, u are very similar; when he makes notes for himself he does it in the form of doodles or small ‘icons’. But! He reads a lot, so he rarely makes spelling mistakes (: he is your go-to guy when you don’t know how to write a word.

An example of his writing:

He keeps a journal, sue me.

3. My first born- Warrior

Okay, first off... I accept this is completely biased. I saw the idea and said “That’s True”. If you haven’t, please read Effective Communication; or The Lack of Thereof by htruona, a fic where the boys reflect on the language barriers between them. It’s incredibly funny and probably what made me start making these silly notes. So, if you’ve read that fic, you know where I’m going.

My man, Warrior, can’t fucking write. I mean, he physically can, but it’s very bad. Here’s the reason for it, tho, and it’s not his fault: Technically, he knew how to write alright but he joined the military and whatever note he had to write had to be concise or in the worst case coded. He mixes capital and lowercase letters. If we consider that he joined the military at around 15, his handwriting and grammar had yet to continue developing. Just think about how after summer break, your handwriting was always slightly worse than before because you didn’t write for an entire month. Now think what 2 years can do to that. Hmm, not cool, dude. He makes quick notes, when writing he’s all gotta go fast. he is the lighting mcqueen of writing; good for emergency messages, not ideal for love letters. His punctuation also suffered a lot, he only know full stops and commas and hardly uses them. A sentence for him is either one word or fifty without a single comma, no inbetween.

His hero title and an example of his writing.

(Bottom row, or what I like to call “fuck cursive” row)

7.- Magic man - Hyrule

I’m basic and I do agree with the popular headcanon of he not knowing how to write because well, y’all know his Hyrule. He only knows how to write his name because that’s important, same with numbers. I don’t see why would he write/read except checking the roadsigns. (he can even use this as an excuse for getting lost frequently; he thought it said something different.) But I do think that because his habitual reading consists of roadsigns, his ‘punctuation’ is weird af and places full stops/points/periods at the same level of his words and his commas/question/exclamation marks below them. Yk, creative license. Sadly, I don’t have much about my magic hands man so here’s what his writing would look like if he actually wrote a paragraph:

Man, I love Hyrule.

8.- Man, I don’t understand this boy -  Wild

Cursive? ain’t nobody have the time for that. He woke up and had to save the world in his underwear while not knowing how to read nor write.  He learnt during his journey and was taught by multiple people from different regions, that explains his inconsistent spelling of things and names for them. So Wild knows language variations for many items and uses them interchangeably (even if they aren’t exactly the same). Another headcanon related to writing/language skills that I’ve been thinking about is that if the shrine was able to cause amnesia, I’m sure there were other areas in the brain affected which leads us to language disorders such as agraphia and aphasia. But that’s a story for another day ksksksk

An example of his writing (after relearning)

9.- The best of sons - Wind

I don’t have much for him and that makes me sad. Look, he’s a kid, doing kid things like stabbing dudes on the head. This boy was taught cursive by his grandma, but could never do it and no one needs it anyway. His handwriting is good enough for his pirate life, Tetra is the one to handle Official stuff, he just gotta sign. Spelling and grammar mistakes abound. He is still relatively young and can correct his handwriting if he desires. But same as Wild, with how many times he’s been thrown out and hit his head, I’m starting to consider some language disorder for him as well.

An example of his writing:

aaand that’s it.

Thanks, y’all for showing interest in this silly thing uwu it was fun to finally talk about this. If you ever want to discuss ideas/headcanons(especially if they are related to language and culture), I’m your person (: I’m always happy to hear new headcanons. Feel free to add anything to this post either in a reply or in a reblog, I’d love to hear from y’all <3<3

[wherefancytakesme]

“Mistakes”

(BOYD gets to spend the afternoon with Gyro, then Mark Beaks shows up and brings on emotions that BOYD has never had to face before.)

The day so far had been one of harmless goings-on and quiet excitement. BOYD went to school with his adoptive brother Doofus Drake, for once not being as much the studious little database he always was in class—he was going to meet with Gyro Gearloose and Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera after school, and it filled him to the brim with joy.

Since the day he’d reunited with his creator, BOYD loved spending time with the scientist, always awaiting a time when he would call the Drakes over the phone and ask to pick their ‘younger’ son up and bring him to the underwater lab. Gyro always said he needed to perform regular checkups and maintenance on the little android, but BOYD was hoping secretly that it was also about spending time together; The doctor was becoming gentler now that everything in the past was behind them.

Regardless, BOYD’s feet were bouncing lightly under his desk with the anticipation of it all the way until the final school-bell rang—any excuse to see Gyro, someone he considered so close, gave his mechanical heart inexplicable delight.

Finally when class had let out for the day, BOYD took Doofus’ hand, smiling, and pulled him gently along.

“Come on, come on, big brother! Dr. Gearloose and Dr. Crackshell-Cabrera are waiting outside!”

Doofus grunted. His parents had strictly told him to be on his nicest behavior in front of Scrooge McDuck’s scientist, especially for his little brother’s sake—and to say nothing at all if he hadn’t anything nice to say—or else not expect any dessert for the next several weeks. He threw a fit, of course, but eventually resigned to not ruin anything for BOYD—or his chance at still being allowed to eat an ice cream float every night—and let BOYD have all the ice cream for himself.

Some part of Doofus’ subconscious didn’t mind the constant company of someone his own age. But all the unpleasantness that buried such feelings from his thoughts and actions that proved Louie Duck right kept the boy from understanding any of that, and so he simply allowed BOYD to pull him along—small as he was, the android could easily overtake his brother—and decided to be pouty but uncharacteristically quiet the rest of the day—though not altogether unhappy.

When the two boys reached the front gate, Gyro and Fenton were waiting at the entrance. The latter grinned and waved a friendly hand. The former smiled a bit more visibly than he’d have liked to when BOYD ran out to him.

“Dr. Gearloose!” BOYD called out, immediately throwing his arms around Gyro’s knees.

The gesture pushed Gyro to hide his previous smile by putting a fist to his mouth and clearing his throat. But his tone wasn’t harsh.

“It’s nice to see you, 2BO—er—BOYD.”

He had no idea how to greet Doofus Drake, however. He groaned with his mouth closed, awkwardly, and looked away, but Doofus had nothing to say either anyway.

“Are we going to the lab right away?” BOYD asked with bright eyes.

“Well I have an errand to run in town first, but it shouldn’t take long.”

Fenton chimed in;

“We could make a fun outing of it! Uh—nothing that would deviate from the plan, of course,” he said drawing back once Gyro side-eyed him, “Just something to do while Dr. Gearloose is busy.”

“Yeah, like find a local landmark to learn about!” BOYD did some drawing back of his own when he noticed his brother pout, but did so more graciously than nervously as compared to Gyro’s assistant. “Or maybe there will be a park nearby!” He smiled more when he noticed his brother’s frown fade a small amount.

“Whatever we do,” interjected Gyro, “Stay close to me. I do not want everyone running all over and taking up too much time.”

BOYD’s sunny smile remained as he put his hands behind his back, determined to be well-behaved.

“Yessir, Dr. Gearloose!”

About twenty minutes of walking had led the group of four to an obscure electronics store. Gyro needed a special kind of copper wire before going back to the lab and his odd specifications were hard to meet. While he spent his time inside, Fenton and the boys went to the adjacent shop to buy ice cream. Gyro had told them not to wander off, so once both kids had a cone of their own, they walked out to wait for the doctor.

It had taken several minutes longer than usual for the store owner to fetch what he needed, but by the time he had his purchase in hand, Gyro pondered over taking another minute or two to browse recreationally for spare parts. However, the thought was suddenly halted by the sound of a piercing shriek from outside.

“BUT I DON’T LIKE PISTACHIO!”

Gyro’s whole body jumped at the sound before he bolted out the door to see what the commotion was.

Oh.

Of course. Doofus Drake was throwing another tantrum, shaking his ice cream cone violently.

“Then why did you ask for it?” Fenton asked, confounded.

Gyro ground his teeth and rubbed his middle and index fingers against his temples. But the eyes he’d at first squinted shut opened back up when he heard the screaming stop at a kind voice.

“It’s okay, big brother. I’ll eat yours and we’ll trade!”

BOYD had a warm little grin on his face, holding out his hand.

“Fine!” snapped the spoiled drake, fuming as he thrust the treat into his brother’s hand. “You wanted to try a new flavor of ice cream anyway!”

This caught Gyro’s attention particularly. That little brat shouldn’t be forcing something on a robot who wasn’t built for consumption. He approached, and took on a less-than-pleasant tone that now commonly became him.

“Ice cream?” the chicken asked, twisting his face, “2B—er, BOYD, doesn’t eat.”

“I don’t need to,” answered BOYD, “I like to! My big brother told me about all the different kinds, and now every time I eat a new one, I add it to my memory. It’s fun!”

There were so many words in there that Gyro had to take a moment to think over. First and foremost, it was still mystifying why someone like BOYD and someone like Doofus Drake would consider eachother brothers—leaving aside that the former was much older than the latter. But he chuckled mentally a bit at the association between ‘memory’ and ‘fun’. The only other boy he knew who thought like that was Huey Duck, and it was nice that he and the android had found someone like the other. It felt nice too that such a thought could soften him back up again and make his migraine go away.

But Gyro wondered what eating must really be like for BOYD—he didn’t remember programming BOYD specifically to eat, but on a technical level, he supposed it was possible, given the way he’d built him.

“Can you taste it at all?” he said looking down at BOYD now, curious at the answer.

“Yeah! It was actually only recently I first had ice cream. I didn’t know I could taste anything until then, but it seemed to register, and I really liked it! So when I got home, I asked about it, and now I get to have it every day!”

Gyro didn’t realize how much he’d been missing out on the little boy’s life. Even the very first tests he’d run on him didn’t experiment with things like taste, or smell. Body temperature, vision, maybe—but those were comparable to how a computer would run. Gyro had made BOYD with sentient, behavioral programming, but he supposed he never put any of it into practice, in a real-world scenario. Part of that may have been Dr. Akita’s fault, but… Well, Gyro didn’t want to make excuses for what he did and didn’t do back then.

It was strange—and a little sad; BOYD went twenty whole years unaware of whether or not he lacked the sensation of taste, and Gyro wasn’t there when he finally tried. Gyro knew every single robotic modification BOYD had—from the USB drives in his fingertips, to the blasters throughout his body—he’d put every one of them to the test, but how often did he actually take the child outside the old laboratory? Did the small creature have any memory of Tokyolk before his core was overridden?

Quickly Gyro shook any dwelling thoughts from his mind. No matter. He was making up for it now.

At least he hoped so.

All of a sudden, Gyro felt someone bump against his side, sending him back into the conscious world with a jolt. He made a startled squeak, which embarrassed—and therefore slightly angered him.

“Can’t you watch where you’re—Oh.”

The scientist wrinkled his face with annoyance when he turned and saw a slightly younger man on a self-balancing scooter.

“It’s you.”

There was no mistaking it. Sleek cardigan, large overconfident eyebrows, phone in hand… It was Mark Beaks.

Mark Beaks blinked when addressed. He had no doubt everyone knew who he was, but the lanky chicken facing him seemed to be acting like he’d met him before.

“Oh heeeeey… Uh, do I know you? Probably, right? You see so many faces every day when you’re this famous, they kinda all just blend in, y’know?”

Gyro looked up at Beaks with half-lidded eyes.

“Dr. Gyro Gearloose? Scientist of Scrooge McDuck? You’ve stolen and modified my tech about four different times?”

Beaks looked up and narrowed his eyes, stumped.

Gyro sniffed. Mark Beaks had pointed him out in public several times; This was quite obviously being done to wind him up. “Perhaps he looks familiar to you?” he said, throwing a hand out to gesture at BOYD.

“Ohh yeah! You built that guy? No wonder he went all terminator on me!”

Again Gyro responded sarcastically, with more of a scoff this time.

“That is not my fault. Likely you reprogrammed his hard-drive and rewrote his memories so many times, one simple question overwhelmed him to the point that he couldn’t even tell a person from a flyswatter.”

“Ugh, whatever.” Beaks said, waving his hand, “If you make faulty robots and don’t wanna keep the improvements I put in there, that’s on you. Kid was pretty popular online though. I mean, come on!”

Mark Beaks pointed back and forth between himself and BOYD with both of his index fingers.

“He looks just like me!”

When Beaks acknowledged the android a few feet in front, suddenly two yellow eyes stared back. A little gasp emitted from the little black beak that was previously opened to eat ice cream. BOYD hadn’t seen his older doppelganger since the day he met Doofus Drake. His whole face suddenly beamed with cheeriness at a familiar face.

“Da—”

He bit off the word ‘Daddy’. That was a memory overwrite, he knew now. Still, he was happy.

“Mr. Beaks!”

BOYD instantly ran over to the addressee to jump up and hug him. Beaks just as instantly wheeled back with his scooter board, holding his palms up.

“Woah-ho-hooooh, don’t like touching, remember? What was the number one rule?”

Oh. Right. Remembering that made BOYD’s smile fade.

“No hugs?”

“Exactly, see? You’ve still got some of the good ol’ Beaks programming clunking around in there somewhere!”

Gyro rolled his eyes at a statement like that, but for BOYD it started to set a certain train of thought in motion; Mark Beaks had programmed him to be like his son. At the time, he had felt like it, not simply had it wired into his head, but… now that he thought about the standoffish way the young adult was acting, was that all he was to him? Like a son?

That couldn’t be true, could it?

“Um, Mr. Beaks?” BOYD said, voice starting to grow more shy, “I know things are different now—the two of us living separate lives and everything—but even so, would it be okay if I still spent time with you once in a while?”

Beaks sucked his teeth at BOYD.

“Ooh, no can do, sport. See, if we’re not family, there’s kinda no point anymore. Nobody looks at pics of me just hanging with some rando kid, y’know? Outside that, I’m like super busy all the time, sooo…”

“But… Didn’t you have fun with me?”

“Sure, I did all kinds of awesome stuff in a whole day! Took lots of great selfies!”

BOYD faced the ground at that response, trying to process it. All the words were simple, but slowly, they triggered the most complex of memories… ______________________________

The first memory he had after the incident in Tokyolk was the faint recognition of someone’s voice in the garbage dump he’d evidently wound up in. He didn’t know what was going on, and had no recollection of where he came from, how he worked, or hardly even who he was. All he could bring to mind was an assigned identification number—2BO—and a gut feeling that he was a definitely real boy.

But when the voice came closer, BOYD felt his OS booting up again—his processor bringing things back online. What life he may or may not have had before, he knew not. He only understood that there was reason to be up and running now—alive. These feelings hadn’t manifested into thoughts at first—and then he heard the moving figure above him make a noise. When BOYD parroted back the mimicry of lasers, it was purely instinctual—technological sounds, technological creature. But it made someone notice him. It made someone marvel at him. It made someone give him a real name. It made someone want to take him home. That someone was Mark Beaks.

Even if he had only programmed into him the title of ‘father’, the wealthy parrot was the first person he knew to give him somewhere to live. With or without his original memories, BOYD had never really had an actual home before. He’d never had anyone so willingly look after him like a normal kid—like their kid. In many ways, both literal and figurative, Mark Beaks was the first person to be a parent to BOYD. Even lacking the memory of Akita’s cruelty and Gyro’s hesitance, when BOYD was around Mark Beaks, he felt like someone’s son with no hint of abandonment for the first time in his life.

Yet some underlying doubt lie buried, deep down in one of the many corners of his mind that BOYD didn’t have access to—only this one wasn’t blocked by another person’s override. Anytime he called out ‘Daddy’, Beaks didn’t always turn around right away. He might look confusedly around the room, or take a second or two to respond. And even then, he didn’t seem to say things other than ‘Hey you’, or ‘Need something?’—they were happy, but one-sided. BOYD didn’t think about that then. He was just glad to have family, and to have anything a kid could ask for.

But that was another thing that suddenly made BOYD think. The two days he’d spent with his new father were the best of his whole life; He spent time at an office filled with apparatuses to play on, candy to eat, and places to nap everywhere—even if he didn’t need to nap. Then for the rest of the day, the two Greys went all over Duckburg having fun—eating, playing, exploring… And still, through everything, there didn’t seem to be a connection. When BOYD and Beaks spent time at a show, flew kites, or wore novelty hats, the latter was always taking pictures with the former in them, but seemingly never with him. BOYD was too distracted by the thrill of spending time with someone he considered family to notice before, but now that Beaks worded it the way he did, only mentioning the fun he himself had that day, the signs were becoming obvious. He never once touched him—never once looked at him when he took those selfies—BOYD might as well have been a part of the background.

Come to think of it, did Mark Beaks ever touch BOYD? His biggest aversion, which he’d made clear several times, was touching, after all; The hopes of the first hug BOYD thought he’d ever had at the time were straightaway brushed off. Maybe once or twice, when he needed to be kept from getting wet or from going haywire… But otherwise, the man hardly paid physical attention to him. He didn’t want to feed into the worry that was always secretly there, but the recollection of everything made it impossible now. It hurt BOYD so badly to consider that he was only there to serve a purpose—as he had been his whole life—after all. He couldn’t remember Beaks saying his name, he couldn’t remember Beaks saying something gentle to him… Sometimes if he didn’t act the part he was made to, Beaks would scold him. He tried to avoid calling to mind that once, Beaks struggled to even remember the familial title under which BOYD was programmed.

“Yeah, I love this… What was it again? Uhh, uh, son!”

Oh no.

Mark Beaks never even said the words, ‘I love you’.

But no. No, it couldn’t be true that he didn’t at least care about BOYD, it just couldn’t. It was painful all the same, though, no matter how trusting and unassuming a child BOYD was.

He had to know. He wanted just a little word of assurance that he was wrong, that it was all in his head, that it was just worry that came with twenty years of feeling unloved. Even if Mark Beaks saw him as means for attention first, surely there was some sort of fatherly instinct left over from caring for someone made to be for all concerned his family.

BOYD was feeling some sort of physical discomfort he couldn’t pinpoint when he made his next inquiry, as if he was swallowing something down.

“Mr. Beaks,” he questioned, blue irises still fixed on the ground and fingers toying with one another, “Do you…”

He swallowed physically this time.

“Do you love me…?”

Mark Beaks’ face froze, and before answering made a noise somewhere between the word ‘I’, and an ‘Uh’.

“Kid, what kind of question is that? I don’t do the whole affection thing, okay? Much less with someone who’s not even in my entourage anymore.”

Oh, that hurt. That hurt far too much. Normally with Dr. Akita’s overriding, emotional triggers like this would have BOYD glitching. But that wasn’t there anymore. He was open to feel whatever a boy would feel any time he wanted now, without malfunctions and without something to block his true childlike wiring—too open, perhaps, because now instead of his mind going blank over spiritual pain, his mind would take in every single thought that set him off, and fester. What Beaks said to him now was festering. It made him feel vulnerable. Even if it didn’t hurt or scare him as much as when Gyro told him he was going to shut him down for good, or when Gyro constantly put him down, there was nothing to keep BOYD from blacking out afterward anymore. The feelings over Mark Beaks’ statement were flooding all throughout him.

“But…” BOYD persisted still, wanting some sort of kindness—at least for a fresh start. “Couldn’t we at least be on friendly terms? Isn’t there anything you like about me?”

“Aw come on, little man, it’s not like I was letting you get close to begin with. You’ve got other rich people and tech geeks to be with now. So you don’t need me and I don’t need you.” The man crossed his arms.

If any justice could be done, it might be stated here that the biggest reason Mark Beaks was beginning to act more and more bitter with the small child was out of a sour-grapes mentality. Visible weakness wasn’t characteristic of the young trend-chaser, but in a situation like this, where something he genuinely found impressive and thought he’d made his own had been lost to him, and had been left in the hands of someone else he barely knew—knowing that a technological wonder like BOYD was something he could no longer have—Beaks was annoyed, and he would never dare let it show through. Instead he increased his shallowness ten-fold.

Poor little BOYD’s eyes went wide, wanting so terribly not to believe what he was being told, wanting so desperately not to be outright rejected by someone he’d let himself previously grow so attached to. He looked into Beaks’ black eyes, searching for some kind of reassurance in spite of only hearing cruelty. He wanted so much to hear something that would make the building pain he’d never understood before shrink down.

“But,” he said, voice more quiet and in disbelief than he could ever remember expressing, “You gave me a name. You took me home with you. I was like your family.”

Mark Beaks rolled his eyes back, looking only more annoyed that the little creature almost forced him into guilt with such words.

“No way, kid. I just scooped you out of the trash because I thought I could make something out of you. But four-eyes over there took out all the mods I made to begin with—the new voice I gave you isn’t even there anymore. Hate to say it, but without any of that, you don’t mean anything to me.”

He shrugged his shoulders, talking for a minute more so to himself than anyone, but nonetheless just as aloud as before.

“Guess all the time I put into you was a waste. ‘Least with everything else, I got some money or permanent attention out of it.” Beaks blew air out through his nostrils almost like a laugh when he thought about it. “Jeez, kid, you were my worst investment.”

BOYD didn’t know what the feeling was, but those awful words broke something within him. His face tensed up. The tightness in his chest started to swell. All that desperation to disprove his first proper parent didn’t actually care about him, all that pain welling up inside him the more said person shot down attempt after attempt for requited affection… And now he’d dealt him a blow like that? Mark Beaks had thoroughly destroyed his spirit—he might as well have slapped him in the face. And incidentally, his face started to burn. BOYD had no idea what this meant, but the reaction was involuntary. It hurt so much, he couldn’t understand. The heat concentrated in his eyes. His nose and mouth trembled as he faced his former caretaker. A warm, salty liquid began slowly to fill his eyes and then roll down his cheeks.

BOYD was crying. ______________________________

All the time Beaks had been talking, Gyro and Fenton had been narrowing their eyes in anger and darting them back and forth between the two parrots facing one another, the taller one saying nastier and nastier things to the smaller one. Neither Fenton nor Gyro knew quite what to say or do, or how to intervene—for Fenton in particular because he also had to keep an eye on Doofus Drake, who any second could stop being content licking the inside of his ice cream cone and go ballistic again. It irritated him that he had to keep his mind on such a small matter when clearly there were bigger fish to fry at the moment—and also a little bit that BOYD’s adoptive brother didn’t seem to be noticing how much he was hurting.

Gyro wanted to speak up at some point, but couldn’t bring any words into his head.

And then out of the blue, when Mark Beaks had finally pushed innocent BOYD to a breaking point, the tiny thing cried. He cried.

Gyro’s heart stopped dead in its figurative tracks.

His eyes went wide and dropped their gaze to the ground. This was something he had no idea was physically possible. An invention of his had been, through instinct alone, pushed to actually cry. He didn’t understand. He didn’t specifically write that sort of thing into BOYD’s coding when he made him—certainly Akita didn’t put that in—so then what? BOYD was a definitely real boy, but, to this extent? Gyro wanted to react, to do something for the boy, to get angry at Beaks, but everything failed him. He was stock still, frozen with a horrible blend of shock and concern.

Meanwhile, BOYD continued to stare up at Beaks as tears stained his face, disbelief and utter heartache consuming everything from the waist up.

The first reaction was when Doofus Drake turned and took notice of what he had been sure was a robot his parents adopted, somehow leaking sadness out of his eyes. The Drake boy physically reeled back, socially perturbed.

“Agh, he’s broken!” he yelled, unable to understand, “Do something and fix it!”

Fenton reacted second, clenching his hands into fists, intent on indeed doing something to ‘fix it’, but not the way Doofus imagined. He held back solely on the basis that Gyro was going to say something.

But Beaks was the immediate one to react next.

“Yikes, buddy,” he said to BOYD, backing up uncomfortably. He didn’t mean to make anyone cry, but then again, he didn’t think BOYD could feel anything that real. “It’s not my fault a lack of Beaks tech makes you basically worthless.”

Where Gyro normally would have gotten angry, this time Fenton stood in—he saw that the doctor was too dumbstruck to do so for now. But Fenton was certain both of them were equally as angry.

“What on earth are you thinking saying that to his face,” he snapped, “He’s a kid!”

Mark Beaks shrugged, as if his next reply was a matter of fact.

“Well I mean yeah, but like, not a real one…”

Each adult’s face in present company sneered at Beaks. That was the final straw. With that, Gyro Gearloose was finally able to pull himself out of his stunned state and draw up the emotion to straighten his back and snatch BOYD’s hand, dragging him away. Whatever he was thinking or wasn’t able to think at the moment didn’t matter. This child wasn’t going to be tortured by being here any longer.

“Cabrera, you take Doofus Drake home and get rid of this…” He struggled to find the words; “this, while I take BOYD back to the lab.”

Fenton nodded, determined, as Gyro stormed off, leaving Beaks to be thoroughly dealt with. ______________________________

The walk back to the underwater lab wasn’t a long one, but when Gyro wasn’t seething mad, he would look down at BOYD and notice a look on the boy’s face not dissimilar to his own from earlier—it contained surprise, the fearful kind, as if he didn’t know he could shed tears either. He didn’t look up at his creator, even though he followed the aggressive tug of his arm compliantly, and he didn’t try to wipe at his face. He seemed, again, to be having the same sort of shock that tried to question what in the world was happening to him.

When the two finally did make it inside, Gyro relinquished his tight grip on BOYD’s hand, picked him up by the waist, and sat him down on his center loft work desk.

“BOYD,” he said directly, but not ungently, “Keep your face still for a moment, okay?”

Gyro cupped the little creature’s face in his hand, taking a moment to peer into the huge ovate orbs that were wet as ever. There was nothing physically wrong with them… Nothing functionally wrong with them… Lightly touching the substance that had wavered within them didn’t seem to prove this was some sort of fluid leak. As far as Gyro could tell, these were tears, plain as plain.

So then how was that possible? It wasn’t as if the scientist had actually sat down and built a mechanical version of every single organic function an ordinary person had when constructing BOYD—he and Akita wanted a defense drone—but he knew the little one had an approximation of a heart, and bones, and lungs, and other such things; He was an android, which meant he was deliberately supposed to resemble other people in addition to all the access ports and ribbon wire. Still. Things like tear ducts, taste buds, the need to sleep? Gyro didn’t physically install those things into him. Now a possibility occurred to him. He decided to address BOYD again.

“Can you tell me… Can you tell me everything you’ve been feeling since you talked to Mark Beaks? I know it might be hard, but I need you to try for me.”

BOYD felt Gyro place both hands on one of his. It was the first time the doctor had engaged him like that, and it brought on a warm confusion in spite of the pain he still felt at his core. BOYD’s teary eyes were trained on the floor when he started to analyze what kind of things that pain entailed.

“I’ve… been feeling…” he began, voice thin and shaky, “Sad… and overwhelmed… and afraid… and alone, and… and confused… Before, when I had programming issues, I would start to malfunction anytime something hurt me. But now instead of glitches coming on that I can’t control, it’s more like…”

BOYD’s whole body started to shiver. “It’s more like something my heart can’t control, I guess? Not literally, but, I…”

His vision grew blurry and his voice shakier than ever. “I don’t have anything holding me back from losing emotional control, and I don’t understand. What Mr. Beaks said really hurt, but… I’ve been told things that made me lonely and sad before. I don’t know why I’m only reacting this way now.”

BOYD shut his eyes, rubbing at them as he made a little whimper. “I’m sorry, Dr. Gearloose. I know that doesn’t help. The only other thing I know when I think about all this is that it scares me.”

Gyro felt choked up. He wanted to react beyond keeping his hands palmed over the one BOYD wasn’t wiping his own face with, but twenty years of distrust and cynicism had clouded his ability to be as kind as he used to. But that answer actually helped Gyro a lot. Before, he remembered BOYD saying something about eating—he didn’t need to, but he liked to—that he wondered whether or not he was able to taste, but it ‘seemed to register’. Gyro then supposed while he didn’t build BOYD to eat, it wasn’t impossible given the way he was made; He likely found some sort of place in his structure to double as a stomach, being that he was basically the same as any other boy.

This was what made it click in Gyro’s brain. He had programmed BOYD, for all intents and purposes, to be a living child. Even if the actual hardware wasn’t there, even if Gyro hadn’t thought of specifics when creating… Akita called it ‘real boy programming’—there were things within BOYD that could adapt, and apparently had adapted, themselves to become a part of his sentient reactions and behavior—there were things inside him that manifested because at the end of the day, BOYD was… well, BOYD was a boy.

BOYD wasn’t crying because he was built for it. He was crying because all boys were built for it.

Oh god. A realization like that sent a heavy weight into Gyro’s chest. This wasn’t just some invention that was child-like he’d made, as he initially thought two decades ago. He had brought a life into the world.

He was responsible for every bad thing that life would ever face, because he was the one responsible for ever having made something that could feel, could want, could hurt. Why hadn’t he once considered that when wiring sentience into a body? Gyro felt sick to his stomach.

Yet here was BOYD sitting on a desk, afraid because he wasn’t ever told what would happen if he was sad enough—as if crying was normal, but not for him.

“Dr. Gearloose…?” The timid squeaks in BOYD’s broken voice coupled with glumness on every part of his face made Gyro feel pain in every inch of his body. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Shocked as he was still, an automatic reaction came on that brought Gyro to dry the small creature’s eyes. This reaction, too, shocked him.

“No—no,” he answered nonetheless, just as reactionary.

“Really?”

The nervousness in that inquiry pushed Gyro on. What he was grappling with wasn’t important. There was a child in front of him, needing to be consoled. And while he normally was awkward with children—with people in general, really—Gyro knew about BOYD at least from a technical aspect. He wasn’t a medical doctor, but he did have a doctorate in mechanical engineering. He could work from there—he knew hardly anything about children from a biological standpoint, anyway. In a way, BOYD being an android worked to his advantage here. Gyro sobered up mentally and placed both hands on the little one’s shoulders.

“Yes,” he replied, surprised with himself that he was able to sound so matter-of-fact so quickly. He tried as hard as he could to sound gentle too. “Besides your internal structure, you are otherwise indistinguishable from organic life. You have thoughts and feelings, wants and needs. It’s inherent for you to be sad just as any normal boy would—because that’s what you are.”

BOYD looked back at the ground for a moment, then up at Gyro again, putting his tiny hand over the fold of the man’s thin elbow. There was something he wanted to know—there was still pain in his chest that was building up beyond his control.

“Then…” he asked with teary, pleading eyes, “Can I cry a little more?”

Gyro wished that he knew just what to say—his heart ached so much to hear such a little boy ask for permission to feel—but he simply gave a pitying, guilty, yet mostly obligatory, “Yes.”

That one word of acceptance sent BOYD over the edge. A little hiccup escaped him, and what had previously been only silent tears that fell on their own turned into a full-on fit. BOYD covered his face and wept.

Gyro tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat when he saw BOYD truly cry for the first time. But in under a minute, his creation said something that brought him to accommodate without a single thought.

“Dr. Gearloose? I know you said back in Tokyolk that hugging was just for that day, but—”

BOYD was interrupted when Gyro immediately drew him in with a one-armed hug, bringing him close and holding him tight. BOYD in turn drew himself closer to his creator, no longer holding back.

BOYD’s little cries then were soft and whining, innocent and unhinged in the way that became any child. Any time he needed to sniff or dry his eyes, he buried his face into Gyro’s chest, and sunk his tiny fingers deep into his vest. The length in each wail that came on now and again reflected the fact that BOYD had never cried before, and that he was discovering in the moment just how much he needed to all this time.

Poor BOYD, Gyro thought, barely ever allowed to simply hug anyone before. He was the sweetest living creature Gyro had ever known—always smiling so jubilantly and talking politely to everyone and everything—and yet so many people met him only with malice? That was far too unfair.

Oh.

But then, that was exactly what he’d done, wasn’t it? He’d so readily assumed when Inspector Tezuka brought BOYD down that he’d created something evil—he’d thought the evidence was everywhere, quite literally. But couldn’t it have been just as easy to think that someone like Dr. Akita who’d turned out to be a known criminal could have been responsible? Couldn’t Gyro have at least considered for a second that it wasn’t BOYD’s fault and defended him more? But he hadn’t. Instead he’d let his young mind believe everything his former mentor drilled into his head; His inventions were weapons, plain and simple, and nothing would change the fact that that would be a part of him the rest of his life—that he would always know somewhere in the back of his mind that he was just a big screw-up. And Gyro had taken that out on BOYD. He’d turned his anger and fear over himself and projected it into anger and fear over his first real invention. He’d defended inventions like Lil’ Bulb to the last ditch—even when the evidence they were turning evil was just as seemingly apparent, if not more so. Even they weren’t referred to as failures. All that bitter sarcasm and unkindness that became a part of who he was had all been based on nothing. When they’d reunited, he lashed out at BOYD over and over again, scornful whenever he even looked at him, refusing to call him anything other than an ‘it’, saying he was dangerous to his very core, saying he didn’t have feelings—even when the sadness and frightened tentative motions in his expression and body were clear as day—he even said straight to BOYD’s face that he was going to ‘fix’ his malfunctions by essentially flat-out killing him.

Gyro was furious when Mark Beaks made BOYD cry. But the first person to ever treat him inhumanely, was Gyro himself. It made him feel so unbearably guilty he almost couldn’t breathe. No matter what his eyes would look like anytime Akita’s programming kicked in—those things weren’t even there anymore. Anytime Gyro thought back, those big eyes were always so full of light—light of happiness, of sadness, of kindness, of intelligence, of innocence. How could he have ever looked at eyes like that—eyes that were capable of producing tears—and thought BOYD was evil?

Even if the child wouldn’t say so, Gyro knew there must still exist an ache within him over being rejected by the person that gave him life. He owed it to him to make it known just how sorry he was for it—even if the words kept getting jammed in the middle of his throat.

“BOYD,” he faltered, though it was now becoming easier to call him by his real name, “I need to apologize for the way I treated you back then. I know Mark Beaks hurt you when he told you that you weren’t worth his time. But the awful things I’ve said to you… they’re no different.”

BOYD calmed himself down a little to be able to speak. He didn’t face Gyro when he answered, but it wasn’t out of unacceptance—his answer was simply an automatic one.

“It’s okay…”

Gyro let go of BOYD for a moment to stare at him gravely in the face.

“No. It’s not okay.”

Gyro couldn’t remember when he’d talked so seriously before. He’d talked sternly—talked angrily—shouted several times… But as far as he knew, nothing compelled him to speak so straightforward and strict and deadpan as this in his life. He wasn’t going to let anyone make excuses for him ever again—not BOYD, and most certainly not himself.

“I said I’ve spent my whole life trying to live down my first invention being evil. But you were never made evil. I made you out to be evil. And now I’m going to spend the rest of my life living down ever having damaged you like that.”

Gyro found himself astonished that he was able to say what he did next, but nonetheless let it be said; BOYD needed to hear exactly what he was deserving of.

“And I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to do right by you. Because after everything that’s happened, I am so proud that a boy like you does right by me.”

In spite of BOYD’s constant shivering and whimpering, he was able to smile comfortingly just for a moment, nestling his head further into Gyro’s scrawny arms.

“I of all people know what it’s like to be new to Duckburg and down on your luck with nothing—with nobody. But I was fortunate. I met Scrooge McDuck and he gave me a place to work, and to make my way up the ladder. He was the only one to give me a second chance—to trust me.”

Gyro sighed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do the same for you—as if I didn’t learn. How you stayed the same as I built you this whole time is beyond me. I’m nothing like you.”

“That’s… That’s not true,” BOYD sniffed, rubbing his eyes again, “If I make you as proud as you say, then some of that had to come from you—where else would I get it from? The only other person around me then was Dr. Akita, and then I spent twenty years asleep in Duckburg. I’m like this because you made me. And if I’m still like this, that part of you has to still be in you too—doesn’t it?”

Gyro couldn’t respond to something so kind. He couldn’t. Gyro didn’t deserve merit like that. Instead, he turned to another question that he’d been thinking of as BOYD stayed settled under his arm—something more technical, but still in reference to the android’s feelings and his sentience.

“When you shiver…” he asked with difficulty, “Is it because you’re cold? And if you overheat, do you feel feverish?”

“I do feel sort of sick when something overheats inside me… At home, it’s treated like I have a cold, which usually helps. But… when I’m cold, I operate at peak efficiency, so that’s never uncomfortable.”

BOYD’s voice was still full of quiet hiccups and characterized by the hurt within him.

“I guess I’m shivering because of how sad I feel. There are a lot of things I’m scared of—and things I’m so glad of, they hurt—but mostly, I just keep thinking back to what Mr. Beaks said. He brings up this little voice in my head that tells me people don’t want me. Like I’m making it hard for them.”

Gyro surprised himself again by stroking the back of BOYD’s head lightly. Nevertheless, he responded with defense and firmness in his tone.

“You should make it hard for people like that to want you. If you’re a waste of energy to someone like Mark Beaks, then good. The more you keep being yourself, the less they’ll stick around to hurt you.”

BOYD looked up at Gyro once more with his wet, shining eyes.

“But you won’t do that if I’m myself around you, right?”

That question pulled Gyro into a riptide of guilt so strong that it almost drove him to cry. But he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting down the urge for BOYD’s sake—this was about him. He made it clear to himself he’d never let his little creation down again when he hugged him in Tokyolk—and now he was going to make it clear to BOYD, say it out loud to his face so there was never any doubt again. Gyro rested the hand he had on BOYD’s head, held him just a tad closer with his arm, and said,

“I’m only saying this once; There is nothing you could do in front of me that wouldn’t make me want you. Ever. You can come to me for whatever you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gyro watched as that sentence prompted tear after tear to fall down BOYD’s heated face, nearly every part of his insides nagging uncontrollably at him when the little creature encircled his puny waist with his arms.

“I’m so glad!”

The sobs that BOYD let loose figuratively jabbed the scientist in the gut as he thought of the fact that were it not for his sheer irresponsibility, the poor little thing would never have had to be born into a world that presented such harsh treatment.

Still, BOYD wanted to cry. Didn’t the need to cry come from getting to let go—to feel better—to be alive?

Gyro thought as he instinctively continued to stroke the small head under him with his thumb. If he had brought a life into the world that was going to have bad moments, that meant that the same life was going to have happy moments too, didn’t it? Well—he already had! BOYD might as well have been built as a bluebird. Gyro should be glad BOYD was finally allowed to have this kind of release. It meant he could finally, truly, feel like the definitely real boy he was. The pain of fault and responsibility still wracked Gyro—he figured it always might—but at this point, he was relieved the poor thing he held close in the underwater lab wasn’t going to be mistreated any longer—not if he could stand to help it. ______________________________

BOYD sat in Gyro’s lap, beginning to feel better as he allowed himself to let everything out in the embrace of someone close to him. He could cry as much as he needed around Gyro. And he was going to take that allowance for all it was worth.

Part of his crying now came from the warmth he felt knowing that the old Gyro he thought he’d lost was still in there somewhere—that he hadn’t gone after all—and that even though he’d through no fault of his own gotten it lost, he had brought its return as well. That restored a lot more of BOYD’s self-worth than he fully realized.

BOYD was so grateful—so, so grateful to have that Gyro here again. He didn’t understand why at first it hurt so much to be called an ‘it’ by his creator—he didn’t remember Gyro was his creator at the time—but to think that someone was afraid of him and that someone hated him just for being himself stung so badly. He didn’t cry then—he didn’t know he could. But he cried now, over the cutting things Mark Beaks said, over Gyro’s hand at his back, over anything he could think of that needed crying over—mostly however over the knowledge by now that Gyro didn’t see him as nothing more than a destructive machine—as ‘evil down to his core’ any longer. He could tell that even if Gyro didn’t say it, he loved him; He risked his own life just to hold him in his arms, to save him and others from himself. Now BOYD really did have someone who loved him the way a father would a son. He could hug Gyro if he wanted—as many times as he felt like it—and never be brushed off. That thought brought such relief to him, his processor couldn’t take it all in.

But he didn’t tell Gyro any of this; He noticed all those looks on his face—they gave away just how terrible he felt over not being able to do as much as he wanted for him right away. So he kept any more words from leaving his mouth in order not to burden his guardian with any more guilt. BOYD simply let himself release all the emotions he could which he didn’t know he had before, as if he were wringing himself out—and as such, began soaking up all the comfort he was being given like a dry and thirsty sponge.

BOYD learned some wonderful things that day as he clung so strongly to Dr. Gearloose in that lab—much as it hurt to tremble violently, and bleed out feelings until one’s eyes burned, and let out enough raw noise fit to make one’s throat sore. He learned that being allowed to feel so sad was rewarding, and cleansing. He learned that tears were something he could produce no matter what he felt. And he learned that everyone in the world would make mistakes, no matter what or who they were, but that it was never too late to grow from them.

~ Holy shoot, wow, this is the first serious fic I’ve ever posted on here before.

I really wanted to share it, because it took so long to write—although I didn’t think it would turn out so long… 8k words! It’s the lengthiest thing I’ve ever written.

Anyway, this is a story that is very dear to my heart, not only because I put the most into it out of anything, but because studying Gyro Gearloose as a character and loving his dynamic with BOYD has been one of the most amazing things to think of through the hiatus that came after Astro BOYD.

I always loved BOYD, of course, but once I started seeing all the art and fanfics that others had started doing out of the emotions that came with his and Gyro’s backstory, I got swept up in it too, and wanted desperately to get out all those feelings into one story.

The idea came from the concept of whether or not BOYD can cry. We’ve never really seen him do it before, and it’d probably be hard because he’s normally so happy—but I kept wondering if he, as an android, even could. So it hit me; What if BOYD could cry, but Gyro wasn’t aware of it? What if even BOYD wasn’t aware of it? I kept playing with what would possibly make him cry, because even when Gyro was threatening to shut him down or was calling him ‘it’, BOYD only frowned a little. Suddenly I got the nasty idea of Mark Beaks showing up and telling him he never wants to see him again, and it built from there—I started also thinking that maybe what brings BOYD to cry is just a long enough buildup of pain, and maybe he couldn’t feel as much because Akita’s meddling with him had gotten in the way before.

On a sidenote, Mark Beaks was pretty hard to write at first; I had to make sure his confidence was switched on all the time or he’d come off a little out of character. But much as this is about Gyro & BOYD, Beaks being awful is so deliciously fun to write. I think it’s because he makes you love whoever he’s being mean to even more.

Anyway, after I’d written that part out, I spent a lot more time than I initially thought I would focusing on how all this would make Gyro feel—that is, how much guilt his responsibility would bring on. I’m really desperate to see for myself how they interact in canon from now on, but I always imagine that Gyro’s feelings which are most associated with being a father are of guilt; They make him protective of BOYD, they make him sensitive to BOYD, and they might drive him to treat BOYD—again, be more like a father. Pretty much all Gyro’s niceness comes from wanting a do-over.

I never post my serious writing publicly—mostly because I’m really tentative and shy about showing my literary ‘skills’ and the kinds of raw emotion I spill out in words sometimes—but this fic slowly became something I wanted really badly to share with the DT fandom, as a thing that could both be a way to show my own interpretation and thoughts of Gyro and BOYD, and could maybe even be liked by people as much as it is by me.

I know a good few episodes have aired since Astro BOYD did, and that it’s been a long while since the episode has been talked about, but I’ve only now been brave enough to decide to put this story out there for all to see.

I really hope you enjoyed it.

(Incidentally, I wanted to be sure to post it before Let’s Get Dangerous! airs, because I know this fic would get swallowed up by all the emotions to be had from that episode… ^^; )