#please he’s so hot

[baylishh]

Need me a man who looks like Madara Uchiha

[thrdchld]

i think i have successfully read all belos-centric fics and i’m going to go insane because i NEED MORE

i really gotta reflect on my character about this

[egophiliac]

Malleus' bday is coming up, thoughts on what his sleepwear might be?

anticipating that reveal any time now, so gotta get my predictions in real quick (aka extremely fast drawings) (I'm sorry)

[muffinlance]

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

[shallowcoffin]

THE SECOND PART IS EVEN BETTER PLEASE

keeping ya desperate bean fed fr

was so ready there to be a round two-

Bodyguard (Part Two)

Alpha-17 x fem!reader. Reader works as a political aide who is volun-told to assist a controversial politician. Said politician pissed off the wrong people and Alpha was assigned to be his bodyguard until the inflammatory issue was voted on. After your transport was shot down, you and Alpha are alone in an abandoned cabin, trying to survive a cold night.

Read part one here! Early cut on this one because we get right to it.

Rating: NC-17, explicit, smut, lemon, etc. Minors DNI!

Word Count: 3,000

Warnings: fingering, unprotected piv sex, hint of a hint of a breeding kink.

Previous | Masterlist

Alpha’s kiss was deep and thorough, raging with the passion he had hidden so well. You were caught up in the onslaught at first, shocked by it, but you recovered enough to eagerly participate. You threaded your fingers into his hair just to add to the sensations. He seemed to be doing the same, running the tips of his calloused fingers over every bit of skin you had left exposed.

It was lovely, tucked in a nest of blankets in front of a fire, kissing Alpha like it was more important than breathing. But this wasn't all you wanted - you were working with a goal in mind. Every time you moved, it was to let the blanket wrapped around you slip a little looser. The blanket that had been draped over your shoulders was long gone, as well.

When Alpha's fingers danced across your collarbone and down, you saw your chance, moving in the slightest shrug and giving the kiss every ounce of attention you could muster. Thus distracted, Alpha's hand worked further and further down, until he was cupping your naked breast.

He only pulled away after his thumb brushed over your pebbled nipple, coaxing a sound from you before you could stop it.

"Sorry, mesh'la," he apologized, slowly removing his hand. He placed it instead on the curve of your hip - an even more promising spot, to your way of thinking.

"It's fine, Alpha," you assured him. "Better than fine, actually. It's what I want."

He groaned, rolling away from you slightly… hips first. "Don't say things like that. I can't be expected to control myself."

"I want you to lose control, actually," you said, your tone matter of fact. "I want you. All of you."

Alpha groaned again, rolling fully onto his back and rubbing a hand down his face. "I can't say how much I've wanted to hear that, but…"

"But what?" you asked, immediately pulling back. "If you've changed your mind-"

"No," Alpha said, his grip on your waist tightening, keeping you from moving further away. “I just thought civvie women wanted some kind of commitment before sex."

You stared at him for a moment, then said with a smirk, "Please, you’ve seen what it’s like working for Julgum. I can’t even commit to being alive until the vote."

You tried to lean up to kiss him again, but he pulled back as you glanced up in confusion. Alpha shot you an unhappy look as you chuckled awkwardly in the near-silence.

" …it was a joke," you explained lamely.

I don’t think it's funny," Alpha disagreed, rolling toward you once more. Any happiness you would have felt about that was tempered by the fact that he was now staring down at you from close range. "If you died from one of those di'kutla attacks, it would only be because I'm already dead."

You smiled at that, but you could feel the confusion in it. "You’re here to protect Julgum, not me."

Alpha shook his head, immediately denying your level-headed reminder. "No, I’ve been protecting both of you since my second week with Julgum."

Well, that created more questions than it answered, frankly. "Who paid for-?"

"No one paid," Alpha interrupted, sighing dramatically. "Kriff. Is it so hard to believe that I wouldn’t want to watch you die?"

Yes, but that was the kind of thing that stood a better chance of starting an argument than stopping one. And, after the revelation that Alpha did indeed care whether you lived or died, you really didn't want to argue.

You had a better idea of how to pass the time.

Instead, you started laying kisses across the skin under his jaw. “We can-” kiss “-talk about-” kiss “-commitments later.” Kiss. “For now, I was really enjoying what we were doing. Can we get back to it?”

In his most long-suffering tone, Alpha said, "I suppose we can."

Your lips met again and the flurry of movements knocked every other thought out of your mind. Alpha took control of the kiss and of you, grasping your hips to tow you on top of him. The blanket fell away completely then, baring you to him.

Alpha let out a shaky breath, scrubbing a hand down over the lower half of his face. “You’re killing me, mesh’la. You’re so beautiful.”

He reached up, reverently touching a large fingertip to your nipple. The sensitive peak, already half-budded from the cold, tightened further as he brushed over it again. Your lips parted around a half sigh. Alpha, encouraged by the sound, flipped his hand palm-up and settled the back of it against his stomach… and just under you. The angle left his hand cupping your mound.

Alpha’s torso was as broad as the rest of him, and your legs were splayed widely to accommodate him. As a result, the lips of your pussy were spread wide as well, offering everything for Alpha’s fingers without a single barrier.

When those fingers curled upward and in, your head tipped back and you let out a sound of desperation. Alpha paused for a moment, but you took the opportunity to grind yourself down on his hand and he kept going. He played with your spread folds, stroking them as if they were the soft velvet of a flower petal. His thumb lavished attention on your clit, rolling and smoothing over it until the muscles of your thighs were bunched and shaking with effort.

Finally, he breached your entrance with one finger. It met no resistance, sinking deep immediately as your hips bucked. “More, please!”

Alpha’s lips quirked at your plea, but he obliged. He circled his finger back out - making sure to pause against your g-spot along the way - and returned with two fingers. They pressed in more slowly, but you took them down to the knuckle.

Ridiculously, you found yourself close to orgasm just from that, especially as his thumb continued working over your clit.

“Alpha, I- I’m gonna come,” you warned.

Alpha gave a deeper thrust with his fingers.

“Ungh! Alpha, I don’t- I want to- I don’t want to come without you inside me,” you panted out.

“I am inside of you, mesh’la,” he countered, pushing his fingers inside of you until his knuckles stretched your entrance. “Don’t you feel me?”

“Alpha-”

“Come for me, little one,” Alpha entreated, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. “Give me this one. I want to see you fall apart when I can focus all of my attention on you. Please.”

You braced your palms against Alpha’s chest and tilted your hips back slightly, gasping at the change of angle. Your hips danced up and down as you fucked yourself on his fingers, finding a rhythm that worked for you. Alpha helped you along, holding his fingers steady, but spreading them a little wider as you went along. He also angled his thumb to provide stimulation to your clit at the bottom of every stroke.

For a beautiful, horrible moment, you teetering on the meeting place of pleasure and pain, both dreading and longing for the fall. And then Alpha gave a firm rub over your clit and you dropped over the edge of the precipice.

You said something as you came, but you didn’t have the slightest idea what it was. It could have been Alpha’s name. It could have been a wordless cry given form when you clenched your jaw. It could have been an oath of undying loyalty to the Grand Army of the Republic, for all you knew.

When you were aware of your surroundings once more, you had collapsed forward onto Alpha’s chest and his hands were stroking your back. Well, one of his hands was. The other was still buried knuckle-deep in you.

“Are you okay, mesh’la?”

You hummed, unable to form words just yet.

“I’ll never forget that,” Alpha mused quietly, his chest thrumming under your ear with the sentiment. “I’ll remember how you looked coming around my fingers until the day I die.”

That was eerily close to what you had thought earlier about Alpha’s profile in the muted moonlight. Still, you had to admit that you were jealous of the moment Alpha had chosen. You wanted to see how he looked when he fell apart, when he shot cum deep inside of you.

The thought made you tighten around his fingers. You could feel Alpha still beneath you, his breathing cut off but his heart pounding faster than ever. Before he could react, you slid down slightly, reaching below yourself to grip Alpha’s cock through the thin layer of his body glove.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you told him, your voice roughened with how loudly you had shouted during your release.

Alpha sat up immediately, pulling his fingers from you to strip off the shirt of his undersuit. The expanse of golden skin that he exposed made your body surge with awareness and you gave a shiver. Alpha stopped.

“What are we doing?” he asked, the question sounding like an admonishment to himself. “You’re still cold.”

You were ready to argue with him - between the fire and Alpha, you couldn’t remember being less cold in your entire life - but you never got the chance. Alpha cradled you against his chest and rolled over, depositing you against the pile of blankets as you stared up at him wide-eyed. It all happened too fast for you to really take note, but somehow, Alpha managed to free himself from the body glove bottoms and was poised over you in a moment. Your legs were spread wide around him, making space for him between the apex of your thighs.

However much time you had gotten between him stripping and him speaking, it wasn’t nearly enough to admire his body as thoroughly as it deserved. In that short time, you managed to catch sight of a man who was strong without looking unhealthy. His chest was broad, his arms and legs toned, and his cock… Your mouth watered for a taste, but you were willing to bet that Alpha wasn’t going to let you take that kind of detour.

The head of his hard cock was pressed against your entrance before you could take a full breath. Alpha sat there, patient, like he had all the time in the world. “Are you ready, mesh’la? We could take some more time, work you up to three fingers. I could use my mouth.”

“Alpha, please.” That all sounded lovely, but… “I need you now. Please.”

“Tell me if it starts to hurt,” he ordered as you nodded in frantic agreement. And then he was pushing forward and you forgot how to speak, how to nod, how to breathe.

No, you hadn’t gotten a good look at Alpha’s cock, but your body was insisting that it was the most beautiful thing in the galaxy. He stretched you until the sensation was almost painful in its intensity, but he never quite crossed that subtle line. The only thing you could do was stare up at him, wide-eyed, as you tried to process everything you were feeling.

The pressure eased as he reached the end of you and held the position while you adjusted. While he was so close, he leaned down to capture your mouth in a deep, savoring kiss. He massaged your breasts while he did, giving small pulses of his hips at the same time. With all of the stimulation, it didn’t take long for your body’s acceptance to turn into a wave of pure need.

“Alpha, fuck me,” you pleaded, unabashed by the neediness in your tone.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Alpha insisted. “I’m going to start slow. Say something if you need me to take it back down a bit.”

You nodded and he slowly withdrew, leaving your channel fluttering in a mixture of emptiness and anticipation. The emptiness disappeared and the anticipation paid off as he pushed back in, surging into you until your hips meshed.

With a pleased little sound, you lifted your hips, trying to subvocally urge Alpha to hurry up. He obliged, pulling out faster and giving his first real thrust into you once more. The increased force pushed a moan from you, toes curling against the softness of the blankets. He was large in every sense of the word, so it shouldn’t shock you that his cock was the same, but you swore it almost seemed to grow as he drove deeper.

“Perfect, perfect,” Alpha muttered under his breath, toying with your clit between strokes of his cock. “You’re better than I could have imagined, mesh’la, so good for me.”

“Alpha,” you groaned, lifting your hips to meet his in an even harder thrust. The impact felt like it pushed all of the air from your lungs, and you gasped out a curse.

“Okay?” Alpha asked, pausing while he checked on you.

“If you stop now, I’ll be forced to do something drastic,” you warned, squirming under him. That was a mistake. You felt fully impaled on his cock, stretched around him, and moving only made you feel it more acutely. Of course, now that you had started, you couldn’t stop.

Alpha started up a steady rhythm, driving into you so regularly that you didn’t have time to breathe except by riding the push-pull of his thrusts. Your range of motion was limited, pinned as you were beneath Alpha’s bulk, but you did your best to actively participate in this.

You knew things were going to be intense when you started feeling white-hot sparks shooting to your fingers and toes before your body even started to tighten for your orgasm. Alpha was big. Maybe he was pressing on things that you weren’t used to incorporating. Or maybe it was because he hadn’t stopped playing with your clit yet. Or maybe it was because you had wanted this for such an extended period.

Whatever the cause, your inner muscles clamped down on Alpha as your orgasm drew closer. It was his turn to hiss out a curse. “I won’t last long if you do that.”

“I can’t help it,” you complained, but your voice was so breathlessly pleasure-soaked that it came off as more of a compliment than anything. “I’m close.”

“Then let’s get there together,” Alpha suggested, planting his hand beside your head and adjusting his stance to increase the speed and strength of his thrusts.

You cried out as he drove into you once… twice… three times…

By the fifth or sixth stroke, your body was so tight around him that Alpha was losing his pace. You were drunk on sensation, rambling gibberish in a half-muttered stream of consciousness monologue, speaking to anyone who was listening.

And then, your body gave an unmistakable ripple, shuddering as your muscles locked. The muscles of your pussy clenched, trying to draw Alpha deeper and lock him in place until he had given you everything he had to give. You couldn’t pretend you weren’t disappointed when he pulled out entirely instead, shooting his cum over your stomach and breasts.

You lay together on the blankets, soaked with sweat and shuddering with the occasional aftershock. When he caught his breath, Alpha wordlessly handed you a dry washcloth that he had tossed aside, claiming it was too small to do any good in the makeshift pallet. It wasn’t ideal, but it helped you wipe up the cum before it started to cool too dramatically. A quick dip between your thighs took care of most evidence of your arousal and you were as clean as you were going to get.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you came inside me,” you told him conversationally as you tossed the soiled rag away.

Alpha shuddered, hips twitching upward. “You can’t say things like that, mesh’la. Not unless you’re ready for another round. You want me to put a baby in you?”

“No, I just-” you paused to gather your thoughts, forcing yourself not to dwell too deeply on the question he had asked. “I just wanted the full experience. I wanted you to have the full experience.”

“I wanted to,” Alpha explained haltingly, “but I thought, with the cold, that sending you outside dripping cum might not be the best way to keep you warm.”

“Oh. You’re probably not wrong about that,” you agreed. “It’ll have to wait until next time, then.”

“You want there to be a next time?” he asked, arching a brow.

“Well, yeah, as long as you do.” You smiled sardonically. “Despite your suspicions, I didn’t quite manage to work you out of my system with a single fuck.”

Alpha stretched, tucking an arm behind his head as a makeshift pillow. “So you think two will be the magic number?”

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. “But it’ll at least give you the chance to come inside of me.”

He groaned, twisting slightly away from you. “Stop. You’ll get me hard again and you’ll have to deal with the consequences.”

“Least threatening thing ever said,” you told him with a chuckle.

The conversation faded into silence after that and you were quickly drifting off toward sleep when Alpha spoke again.

“So… you’ve liked me since the speech, huh?”

You laughed despite yourself, floating on a wave of endorphins and the natural high of spending time with Alpha. “I mean, you can’t lie on top of someone for that long and expect them not to get ideas.”

He laughed, and it had an edge of carefree pride that made you happy to hear. You added, “But you’ve liked me since two weeks after you started with Julgum! That’s longer ago than the speech.”

“Much longer,” Alpha agreed easily, tugging you close enough that he could press a quick kiss on your smiling lips. “I’ve always been a man of good taste.”

---

A/N - I love that big grump so much. That's why his story was so light on the spice - I was trying to keep it as PWP as possible, but then, he insisted on plot.

Thanks for reading!

[im-still-watching-anime]

apollo’s confidence in court: oh my god i’m the worst lawyer ever my client is going to go to JAIL because i can’t even do my JOB

apollo’s confidence outside of court: i’m the only smart one here, i’m the most normal guy in the world and NO ONE is doing it like i am, investigations are EASY, klavier gavin wants me carnally

[rinsoap]

no thoughts, just alt bfs <33 he lets you dye his hair every other month, looking forward to sitting on the tiled bathroom floor between your legs while you perch on the rim of the bathtub, painting over his overgrown buzzcut. he likes to give your knees little kisses as his foot taps to some system of a down song you hum along to.

he'll happily accept your offer to do his makeup after you finish yours. you drag pencil eyeliner across his lids and corners of his eyes, smearing it in lazily until it's grey to add an even more tired appearance to his face. you finish off his quick look with a kiss to his cheekbone that leaves a dark lipstick print where your lips were.

before he goes out, he always makes sure to be wearing a piece of jewelry you've gifted him; chrome rings, matching red pendants, a little sword earring. he loves being asked where he got his jewelry because then he gets to mention you! "oh this? my beautiful girlfriend got them for me, thank you for asking."

he does not take his playlists seriously at all. he just shuffles his liked songs and calls it a day. he's got one playlist though, and its dedicated to makeouts with you. and he takes that very seriously. he loves pulling you on top of him from laying beside him. he likes to have you on top of him, thighs squeezing against his hips as you straddle him. you lean down to press your lips on his, holding his face with both hands gently while the playlist blasts over the sounds of your kisses. it always starts out gentle, polite even, but as soon as the playlists shuffles to she wants revenge, all niceties are thrown out the window. he pulls you close, and you follow his movement. your hands keep switching from his face, to his neck, to his chest, not knowing where to touch, but knowing you want to touch him. he mimicks similar movements, needing as much of you as he can get. he squeezes the flesh of your hips and lets his hands roam over your body, up his shirt you’re wearing to rub the skin of your waist and back. you need each other, and that's all you know.

SUNA RINTARO. miya osamu. KOZUME KENMA!!!! semi eita. tsukishima kei. kunimi akira. KYOTANI KENTOROU!

MITSUYA TAKASHI!!!!!! ken ryuguji. hakkai shiba. BAJI KEISUKE. kazutora hanemiya.

[pangloss-artee]

my little meow meow

[gongyussy]

forget the horrors and think about this baby achieving everything he wanted and more (first goal, 2005 vs 600th goal, 2024)

[bruciemilf]

Currently doodling some things for a young! Justice League AU.

teen! Bruce is NOT beating the team mom allegations.

[tategaminu]

[sorsabruh]

BEEE!!! He's so stupid and silly I love him

[zephyrine-gale]

day 5 of drawing one dan heng dan feng a day until he comes out

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[keferon]

What are your thoughts on a decepticon prowl?

Oh I'm all for it. But! Only if he's actually a Con. Like. Wholeheartedly.

Not "nnnooo we're doingg a bad thing and I kind of dont wanna do bad thing but I have no choice poor me".

You know how in canon he truly believes he's on the right side and makes everything to ensure that Optimus wins the war? You know how he's willing to make every tough decision so Optimus doesn't have to risk his reputation? You know how he literally makes Autobots look like shiny brave and clean heroes who did nothing wrong ever?

I want all that but the other way around. I want him to do that for Megatron and for the Decepticons. The implications would be so fucking dramatic I could write a whole essay.

Low rank Cons would hate him so fucking bad.

Starscream would try to murder him at least once a day.

Megatron would absolutely treasure him. Autobots would have it r o u g h

Can you imagine

[snail-noodle]

shadow milk cookie is their favorite there is no competition guys