#skeletons write

[cyber-skeletons]

You asked, we delivered: a sequel to Whoops! We had soooo much fun with this <3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: None

Fandom(s): Transformers: Prime

Relationship(s): Megatron/Optimus Prime

Characters: Megatron (Transformers), Optimus Prime

Additional Tags: Sequel, Mech Preg (Transformers), Unplanned Pregnancy, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Angst, Magical Healing Cock, Spark Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Fade to Black, Getting Back Together, Transformers Spark Bonds

Fic below the cut!

In response to learning that Optimus Prime was carrying his sparkling, Megatron called for an immediate ceasefire. Initially it was conditional, limited only to Earth, but one threat from Optimus to make Ratchet the sire and raise the bitlet as an Autobot had Megatron grumbling to all his forces throughout the galaxy to not engage in hostile actions against Autobots or any other species — save for self-defense. Megatron wasn’t an idiot, despite certain claims.

“So when can I see you?” Megatron prompted through a wide grin, resting his chinguard on his palm and swinging his leg where he sat on call with Optimus. “Send me the coordinates to your base and I’ll come over immediately.”

Judging by the sigh on the other end of the line, Megatron could perfectly imagine the petulant look on his sparkling’s carrier’s faceplate (his sparkling, he was carrying Megatron’s sparkling!). As things stood, he could only stare dreamily at the caller ID image of Optimus frowning constipatedly at him. “This trust is very, very tentative, Megatron,” the Prime said tiredly. “And the circumstances of this conception are quite volatile. If we were in any other position in our respective factions, our… dalliance would be considered high treason. I do not think it wise to reveal the location of the Autobot base on Earth to you.”

“Come now, Optimus,” Megatron crooned, tilting his helm and tracing hearts around his picture. “Stop stressing about such things! It’s bad for the bitlet! And you know, separation from the sire is also bad for a carriage. I’m sure your medic can tell you that. We’re going to be lying together many, many times over the course of this next stellar-cycle; can you really not trust me?”

“You have given me nothing to make me believe that you will not offline me immediately post-emergence and raise our sparkling as your heir while you lay waste to my armies.”

“Fine, how’s this: I give you my word.”

“Allow me to rephrase: nothing substantial.”

Megatron smirked and purred, “I like it when you’re feisty.”

“Megatron, be serious.”

“I am deathly serious right now.”

Another petulant sigh. “I would be willing to… t-to…” The sound of a shaky vent came through the call.

“I know, this situation is quite breathtaking,” Megatron chuckled, resting his chin in both his palms and swinging both legs.

Optimus made a noise on the other end of the call as if he were beginning to speak, only for the loud whine of overclocked machinery to sound off immediately before a deafening crash.

Megatron snapped to attention. “Optimus?”

Muffled shouts and yells came through the call, but none of them were Optimus’s voice.

Megatron stood up and yelled, “Optimus, are you alright?!”

The call ended.

--

Megatron was nano-kliks away from ordering the entire Decepticon fleet to invade Earth in search of Optimus when Soundwave pinged him with an urgent comm from the Autobot line.

Making his way swiftly away from the bridge and to Soundwave’s station, Megatron stepped up to his amica’s side and answered the call. “Optimus?”

That grouchy Autobot medic Ratchet’s ID picture appeared instead. “Megatron, whatever slag you’re thinking about doing, cool it. Optimus and the bitlet are stable for now, and the last thing they need is more stress to bring on another attack.”

“Attack? What kind of attack?” Megatron snapped, deigning to ignore the disrespect in leaving out his title.

“Optimus’s forge is drawing extraordinary amounts of power from his frame, far more than any carriage I’ve ever seen. If it weren’t for the Matrix keeping his spark stable, Optimus’s spark would have been snuffed out completely during his episode. As things stand, he’s exhausted and weak, and energon infusions aren’t working.”

“What does he need? You’re a renowned medic, what do we need to do to fix this?” Megatron babbled. “Whatever it is, I will do it. I will raze the galaxy for this sparkling. Just-”

“Will you shut the slag up for 2 fragging nano-kliks?” Ratchet snapped. “Look. I’ve never seen anything like this before, which means that there’s a variable we’re not accounting for. Now what about you of all mechs being the sire could destabilize a Prime so terribly, hm?”

Cold dawning realization washed over Megatron as he rested a servo over his spark chamber. “Dark energon…”

“That’s my conclusion as well,” Ratchet said tiredly, a faint tremor in his voice. “Which is why… it is my… very, very pained recommendation that… you personally attend to Optimus through his term. Optimus has requested as much from berth rest.”

Megatron cycled his optics, then set his shoulders. “He will have a place of honor aboard the Nemesis with full attendance by myself and my finest medical staff. Let me take the ship into Earth’s atmosphere and we will send you coordinates to ground bridge to so we may receive him.”

“Good to know you can be reasonable.”

“Why, you…” Megatron growled with a deep rumble of his engine, but the medic already ended the call.

--

Megatron’s entire army was in position to receive the Prime by that evening. His vehicons and seekers stood at attention in neat lines on the flight deck of the Nemesis, with Soundwave and Shockwave standing at attention and Starscream sporting a sneering grimace-smile that didn’t reach his optics as he idly clapped.

Sure enough, the ground bridge opened up at the end of the runway at the agreed-upon time, and the Prime walked through under his own power, displaying no signs of weakness save for the palor that had overtaken his plating. He looked around at Megatron’s army critically for a long moment, inclining his helm in acknowledgment to a few vehicons and seekers before locking optics with Megatron.

It was the first time Megatron had seen Optimus since learning of his carriage, and even with a sickly palor, he had never looked more beautiful.

Megatron found himself drifting forward, breaking his very painstaking, professional, grand formation to first walk, then trot, then run towards Optimus, a beaming smile on his faceplate. Optimus braced himself as if to meet an attack, only for Megatron to reach out and fold his servos around his abdominal plating, cradling it tenderly.

“Optimus,” Megatron greeted, his plating flared out happily.

“Megatron,” Optimus returned, his optics softening.

“EVERYONE!” Megatron then bellowed, turning around while Optimus cringed and covered an audial. Grandiosely holding his arms out to frame his Prime, Megatron projected, “GREET THE CARRIER OF MY SPARKLING!”

All the vehicons and seekers began clapping and cheering; Knock Out had some kind of human noisemaker for some reason where he sat on Breakdown’s broad shoulders, Soundwave displayed a :) on his visor, and even Shockwave was clapping.

The ground bridge closed behind them, and Optimus grew tense, finnials twitching wildly as he stammered, “This is… very kind…”

“Oh, don’t be shy, my spark,” Megatron soothed, sweeping Optimus off of his pedes and into his arms, prompting a squawk from the usually stoic Prime. “You will want for nothing with me, I assure you.”

“We shall see,” Optimus muttered, though as Megatron walked them down the runway and carried him through the threshold of the Nemesis, a small smile overtook his intake.

--

As night fell over Earth, the planet turning away from its star to sleep, Megatron and Optimus lay in Megatron’s berth after Optimus finished unpacking. He had paltry few belongings to his name, despite his status — only a few physical pictures in frames that he lovingly set up on Megatron’s side table of his team and the fleshlings.

Currently, Megatron was spooning Optimus from behind, arms wrapped protectively around his abdomen.

“How are you feeling, beloved?” Megatron murmured into his neck.

“...Tired,” Optimus muttered back, finials twitching.

Megatron chuckled and spared a servo to trace one, stilling it and inciting a shiver in the Prime. “I know you well enough to know when you’re thinking.” Optimus hid his face in the berth and released a long ex-vent. Megatron frowned. “Your finials always used to twitch when something was upsetting you.”

“That,” Optimus grunted, servos curling into loose fists. “’My spark,’ ‘Beloved’… You used to call me those things, back when I…” He sighed. “I’m not Orion.”

Megatron clenched his jaw, looking away. “No,” he agreed. “You’re not.”

“And you are not Megatronus. Those young lovers are long offline.”

“Is there a point to this morbid thought spiral?” Megatron huffed, caressing the Prime’s abdomen once more.

“You don’t love me,” Optimus croaked. “This, all of this… if it were not for our sparkling in my forge, you would try to tear me limb from limb.”

Megatron paused. “...Would you not do the same?”

“No,” Optimus said immediately. “I wouldn’t.”

Slowly, Megatron let go of Optimus and sat up. Optimus weakly mirrored him, finials pinning back.

Oceans of hatred, betrayal, and resentment roiled between them.

Eventually, Megatron said, dark and flat, “It is as you said. Megatronus is dead. You do not love the mech before you. There is no Champion and his little archivist anymore. If you wish me to cease the epithets, then I will, but do not ever doubt my genuine care for this sparkling.”

“I do not doubt that,” Optimus huffed, the faintest tinge of amusement in the sound as he caressed Megatron’s chassis. “But you’re wrong.” Megatron arched a browplate and sneered. Optimus stood firm. “I do love the mech before me, and not as a ghost. You changed, Megatron — you changed into something, someone dark and twisted and full of hatred, but that is not all you are. All this time, I have ached to touch the part of you that has not been corrupted by your hatred, not to change you into the mech you were but to realize the potential of the mech you could become. And now…” He carefully grabbed Megatron’s servo and returned it to his abdomen. “I have. But I am afraid.”

Megatron tried to stoke the fires of his deep well of anger and rage, but the warm thrumming of the plating beneath his servo broke him and made his walls crumble. “Of me?” Megatron asked weakly.

“You terrify me,” Optimus managed, blue optics so painfully sad, and… dim, flickering. “Not for what you could do to me, but what you could do to yourself. What you have done to yourself.”

Tensing, Megatron tried, “Optimus…”

“Y-You… Our sparkbond, Megatron, I thought the Matrix burned it out but we could not conceive without it, it’s still there, so surely there must…” Optimus started swaying. “There… m-must… hunh…” And with that, Optimus fainted, optics going dark.

“Scrap,” Megatron hissed, catching Optimus and settling him down to the berth. He was having another attack, but — what could Megatron even do? Contact? He could do contact. Straddling Optimus, he gently pressed himself over the frame of his sparkmate like a weighted blanket and frantically pinged Knock Out. He could feel Optimus’s rapid, erratic sparkpulse through his own chest plating, growing weaker and more irregular.

Think think think. Scrap this was bad.

That was when Optimus’s chest plates swung open and smacked him across the face, making him rear back and splutter.

The Matrix of Leadership shined up at him in the darkness, all-powerful and resolute. Behind it, Optimus’s spark wobbled dangerously. And orbiting around it… a small, fragile little flickering light.

Megatron plowed through all his dark, inky compulsions to rip the Matrix out of the Prime’s chest and claim it for himself and instead opened his own chest plates, baring his own spark before pressing their chests together.

It was like being plunged into a celestial pool, spinning through the cosmos surrounded by light and sound and sensation, all of it pointless distraction. Megatron saw Optimus sinking deeper into the celestial sea and fell after him, throwing himself through the blinding rivers of light and leaving darkness in his wake, reaching out for him. Optimus looked up at him and reached back.

The two of them immediately clung to each other, pulling each other flush against their plating, and a supernova went off around them as they sank into each other and became one.

Light and darkness rapidly flashed all around them in cacophonous storms as they felt eons worth of pain hate hurt fear but also longing warmth grief love.

I miss you.

I know.

I’m sorry.

And suddenly, they were apart again, floating in a serene dawn, light perfectly blended with darkness, as a warm light flowed out of their sparks to be kindled into a fragile flame between them, pulsing in time with their synchronized sparks. Each of them leaned down to kiss it, and it flared into an inferno, whipping wind around them harmlessly with a chiming sound not unlike a newspark’s laughter.

Then Megatron was back in his frame, and their chestplates were closing. They stared at each other, optics bright with charge, vents heaving for air as their cooling fans roared. Optimus smiled. Megatron smiled back.

Both of them whipped their helms around at the sound of slow clapping.

Knock Out smirked, a carefully polished browplate arching as he drawled, “Good show, you two, very lovely. Am I still needed?”

“GET OUT!” Megatron bellowed, priming and aiming his cannon while Optimus laughed, and Knock Out shrieked before scrambling to leave so fast he transformed and sped out the door.

“That was unkind,” Optimus chided, immediately calming Megatron by cupping his helm in his servos.

“I’ll show you how kind I can be,” Megatron purred with a rev of his engine, right before he leaned down and kissed Optimus’s lights out.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Some writers: *meticulously plan out every plot point and the tone and meanings before they start writing*

Me:

[deadpearls]

[emptyjunior]

Enough random notes that have a written story on them as environmental storytelling, explore the space, get crazier with it.

You move into a house and aw cute, it has the kids height on the walls but you notice there's a three foot difference in height between measurements, you check the date, they're a month apart. The final measurement is on the ceiling. It's dated two days ago.

You're part of a recovery team that have finally found a stranded ship, they were found too late and have all passed a long time ago. They all died of starvation. You enter their storeroom, it's filled with food. In the dining hall you find the tables laden with perfectly fine looking breads, cakes, cured meats, jams, candies. Your medic says all the people sitting at the table didn't eat a Thing.

You wake up in an apocalypse. You can't find anyone at all as you wander the streets but you do hear faint music playing from somewhere. You stumble into a supermarket, to see all the aisles still full, except for the shelf that was full of ear plugs, which look to be the only thing that was looted.

Like there's light, sound, props. Having a street where every house is decimated except for One. Landing on a planet known for having No Water and a plant is growing and you don't know where it could have possibly gotten moisture from but you can't find the citizens Anywhere.

I'm sorry, I'm just kinda over the "graffiti on the wall to show the bad guy is around". That's not environmental storytelling that's just normal story. Show me I'm in the villains territory by the rain suddenly cutting out above me as I'm driving, even though it's meant to be raining all night. I park the car and step out, and realise the constellations are Wrong, until I see they're Not constellations, they're the blinking lights of a massive ship-

I Will stop now because everytime I go to write a sentence it devolves into another prompt but I'm just saying we have a Lot of senses, engage them, show me the Environment in environmental storytelling.

[mischievous-thunder]

And then the two princes saved the world and moved in together to start a new family with their adopted daughter and a dog. The end.

[alizalayne]

it's so amusing that when you're an author who is like any minority, you have this caveat where if your book gets banned, you kinda have to mentally acknowledge whether it was banned by Bruce, the one really bigoted guy who wastes everyone's time in florida. idk how bruce is doing. you don't need to learn who he is really which is why im not using his surname. but if you have a book out commercially, bruce has probably written "damaged souls" on a form about you. so there's a street cred element to all this like did people really have a vendetta against your work...? or was it just bruce again

[lescarnetsdehaku]

Hear the music, hear the pipers!

See how life is beautiful. When a life drifts away, a thousand more memories prevail. For a life that is lost, they'd live in thousand stories, and a thousand more hearts will tell them again !

[max-nico]

I am obsessed with soulmate characters. There is no (light) without (dark) there is no (sun) without (rain) there is no (day) without (night) there is no (joy) without (anger) there is no (red) without (green) there is no (love) without (hate) there is no (defense) without (offense) there is no (tide) without (moon) and these characters can be love interests, best friends, enemies, rivals, I DON'T CARE, but they understand each other like no one else does and where one goes the other follows

And this isn't about just grumpy x sunshine this is about one existing without the other. Characters where if you take one away a part of them gets taken with the other, characters whose lives are significantly altered by the absence of the other, characters who literally already do find each other in different universes.

[s0fter-sin]

vampire au where they can only drink the blood type they were before they were turned. other blood has an almost poisonous effect, burning them from within like acid and drinking too much of it can kill them

in the old days, before the knowledge of blood types, it made humans they could feed on absolutely precious. they're kept safe, pampered and doted on; a vampire’s most prized possession

attacking another vampire's human is seen as the highest insult; not only is it a slight against them, it also carries the implication of "i want you to starve"

it's also used as the cruelest of punishments; starving a vampire for months, until they're feral with hunger just for their torturer to throw in a random human, watching them desperately suck down poison, their instincts begging them to keep drinking even as it kills them

ghost is one of the few who survived it; thrown in a pit so deep, he saw stars in the middle of the day, left with nothing but the dried bodies of the humans roba drained without care, others with their throats slit, blood he can't drink spilled out around them

a taunt of the one thing he needs but will never get

but ghost hasn't survived this long just to give up here

he refuses to die in this stinking, rotted pit

ghost is a force of nature as he descends over roba's manor; killing any who wander into his path until the halls run red. until he gets his hands on roba and tells him a secret:

vampires can feed on the blood of any vampire, regardless of blood type

it becomes a legend in vampire high society; if you starve another, you'd best make sure they actually die

otherwise you might end up piled in a dining room, the vampire you left for dead lounging on a throne of corpses with his fangs lodged in your throat

ghost decimates roba's empire, burning it to the ground until no one dares to speak his name in fear of incurring his wrath. it's incredibly taboo for a vampire to feed off another but ghost's too powerful for anyone to challenge him and the other vampires are too scared to try. scared of what he's willing to do, the lengths he'll go to; not that they'll ever admit it

soap is the first human he ever brings to court; delicately bathed in the finest silks and jewels, his throat always bare so he can show off ghost's ownership, his bite framed in lace

he's not like the delicate waifs the other vampires show off; he doesn't cling to his master, demure and submissive. he shows off his teeth as often as any vampire, fully willing to rip out the throats of any who insult him or ghost

a feral master needs a just as feral pet

[aylish91]

New chapter incoming!!

Sea Of Hope Chapter 8

Previous Next SOH Master Grandmaster

This masterful piece of art was done by @aoi-kanna as a commission. They are truly talented and I appreciate all the hard work they put into making this for me. Go check them out, they are absolutely wonderful!!!

Story below or AO3 above.

~~~

While Axe checked you over, Edge grabbed Red by the back of the neck and stormed down the main hatch, loudly yelling at the rest of the crew to mind their own business as they scurried out of his way. For the most part, Red's protests went unheard as he was dragged down the steep steps. Blue, on the other hand, had hesitantly approached Papyrus, whispering something before they too turned and headed past the hatch, disappearing through a pair of doors into the upper levels of the ship. 

The clearing of a throat had you tensing and pressing closer to Axe. Black had once again gotten closer than you were comfortable with, standing only a couple paces away. “AS HEARTWARMING AS THIS IS, IT IS QUICKLY BECOMING LATE AND THE LADY STILL NEEDS ADEQUATE DRESS. MY BROTHER’S COAT IS HARDLY A FITTING SUBSTITUTE.”  

Rus chuckled beside him. However, when he made to comment, a look from Black had him looking down instead. 

Axe narrowed his sockets. “Don’t know where you’re planning on get’n somethin. Ain’t exactly swimmin in extras and you’ve refused to mend mine so I could give it to her.”  

Black scoffed. “YOU FAILED TO MENTION IT WAS FOR YOUR MARKED. YOU HAVE ALSO YET TO COMPLETE THE TASK I ASKED OF YOU. I DID NOT SEE THE POINT IN TURNING IN YOUR FAVOR WHEN MY OWN HAD BEEN UNMET.” 

“Been busy.” 

“AS WE’VE ALL.” 

Something shifted in the air, both of their eyelights brightening. Rus glared, moving closer to his brother. It took Crooks placing a hand on Axe’s shoulder for the two to back down. 

“Petty bastard.” 

“WHEN IT SUITS ME.” With a flourish of a hand and a half step back, he indicated the direction of the doors, continuing to meet Axe’s gaze. “NOW, I BELIEVE WE SHOULD ATTEMPT TO FIND SOMETHING MORE SUITABLE UNTIL NEXT WE MAKE PORT. SURELY YOU CAN AGREE IT WOULD BE IN EVERYONE’S BEST INTEREST.”  

“Fine, but we’re not leadin’.” You could hear the creak of Axe’s teeth. 

“OF COURSE.” With a tight turn, Black nodded, marching forward with Rus trailing behind with a wink. "AS YOU WISH." 

Axe refused to move at first, tugging his empty socket and prompting a sighing Crooks to nudge you both. "I Know You Don’t Like Him, But He Is Fair.” 

“Bastard never does anything fer free.” 

“And Yet, He Has A Point.”  

Neither you nor Axe was reassured but allowed him to guide you forward regardless. Crewmen brave enough to linger eyed your group with various degrees of emotion. When a dog monster growled, another was quick to slap the back of their head, nervously hunching at a glare from both of your skeleton friends. You tried not to show your fear or your growing limp as you passed, hoping Rus' long coat hid what you couldn’t. It didn't seem like a good idea to show weakness around others. The watchful eyes and aggressive postures spoke volumes to your already heightened nerves. Entering the ship did nothing to ease your discomfort.  

It felt cramped and pressing despite having more than enough space and light. Unlike the previous ship, several lanterns lit the expanse leaving no ominous shadows or darkened areas. You could easily see all the doors lining the walls as well as the beautifully carved and decorated windowed doors marking the end of the hall. Rus waited near the last door on the left.  

It was calm and warm, but you couldn’t shake off the feelings of danger. 

“Ya c’n go inside Darlin. Milord’s wait’n.” Rus stood to the side, motioning you inside the now open door. 

You looked to your companions. While Axe kept his eyelight on Rus, Crooks’ soft smile and nod gave you enough of a boost to cautiously cross the threshold. It smelled of lavender tinted with something you couldn’t quite place, the overall size relatively small. What looked like a narrow modified canopy bed connected to the wall was on your right. In front of you, under a single window, was a rather lovely desk intricately carved with polished knobs. To your immediate left was an open decorative chest shoved in the corner. Everything was of exquisite taste and quality, from the bedding and carvings on the furniture to the upholstery on the chair at the desk. The few trinkets left out were of fine gold or silver with glistening jewels. 

You jumped when the door closed behind you. Axe nor Crooks had made it inside. It had your stomach rolling with nerves. You did not anticipate having the others closed out. Having Black now between you and the only exit made it worse. His eyelights were too bright. 

Didn’t Rus call him a lord...? 

Your chest tightened at his approach, making sure to lower your gaze. 

“TRUE TO MY WORD, THAT HORROR’S GARMENT HAS BEEN MENDED. HAD I KNOWN IT WAS FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS, I NEVER WOULD HAVE HELD ONTO IT.” In his hands was a large linen shirt, neatly folded and dark in color. Holding it out, he offered it to you. “PUT IT ON. I WILL ADJUST IT AS NEEDED AFTER.” 

You froze, intently focusing on the simple article of cloth. Was he expecting you to do it here and now? In front of him? Wasn’t it bad enough you were laid bare in front of all those on the deck, or stars, when you pressed yourself against Blue? At least Axe had good reason to see you. Multiple! To willingly undress now in the presence of a man other than your husband...  

By the angel, what would Axe think of all this? 

Black must have noticed your silent panicked uncertainty when you didn’t immediately take it. Clearing his throat, something in his tone changed. “I SHALL, OF COURSE, REFRAIN FROM LOOKING WHILE YOU DO SO. YOU MAY LEAVE MY BROTHER’S COAT ON THE CHAIR WHEN YOU ARE READY.” 

It was hard not to squirm. While that was greatly appreciated, it still felt uncomfortable. Could you trust his word? You hardly knew the man. Perhaps things may have felt different if the room wasn’t quite so stifling or the door hadn’t been shut so suddenly. 

Luckily, heavy thumps in the hall distracted Black enough for him to hand you the garment himself, squinting at the door behind him. He was just about to speak again when another set of thumps sounded, this time shaking the door. Growling, he finally turned when the muffled voices following the noise got angrier. 

You really didn’t want to do this right now. Not here. Not with all the uncertainties surrounding you.  

Taking a slow breath in, you let it out. The sooner you changed, the sooner you could be rid of these unsettling feelings. With unsteady fingers twitching against the fabric as you took one last glance at Black’s back. 

One more breath. 

The sound of your rattling bones was louder without the security of the coat. Placing it on the chair, you did your best to quickly dress.  

The feeling of fabric against your bones was surprisingly comforting as you pulled it over your head. True to Axe’s size, the shirt almost went to your knees. It was so large the fabric pooled on your much smaller frame and reminded you of the nightgowns you used to wear back at the manor. 

If only it wasn’t so short. 

Though your more private areas were covered, it was not good for a lady to show so much… leg. You tugged at the hem, the sleeves threatening to engulf your hands.  

“I’m dressed, my lord.” 

A calculated breath was your only answer before his eyelights found you, fuzzy with a slight warble. You had to second guess if you had seen them correctly, for the next moment they were back to their bright and sharp orbs. Getting closer, they traveled over you as he hummed, the heel of his boots clicking as he circled. If you had hair, it would have stood on end at the subtle brush of his hand against your back. 

“AS I EXPECTED.” 

You startled, yelping when he came around to lightly grip your hips. Instinctively, your hands came to your chest from the forwardness, sockets wide. He paid no mind, eyelights intent on the bunched fabric. He only let go to pull a satin rope from his pocket. 

You squeaked again when he reached around you to wrap it around your waist. 

“MUCH BETTER. HOWEVER," His gloved hands touched your elbows, slowly moving up your arms to grasp your hands for inspection. “YOUR MAGIC. IT IS MUCH TOO THIN…” He turned them over. “Hmmmmm. Knowing Him…” 

Your chest clenched. He was close enough you could feel his ambient heat and wisps of breath. 

Before Black could say or do anything else, his door nearly burst off its hinges, a very aggravated Axe forcing it open. Black pulled you into him with a snarl, eyelights vanishing with the click of his teeth. Stuck in a headlock was a disgruntled Rus, resigned to the hold around his neck. 

You didn’t know if you could physically handle any more stress.  

“BY THE ANGEL, YOU WILL REPLACE THAT LOCK IF YOU HAVE BROKEN IT!” 

Axe’s voice was low, grin tight as he took in the scene. “Don’t appreciate the closed door, Black. Hell ya think yer doin’ in here?” 

Black placed you behind him, grumbling a growl. “AS I STATED EARLIER, I HAVE GIVEN HER SOMETHING TO ADEQUATELY COVER HERSELF UNTIL WE CAN PROCURE SOMETHING MORE FITTING.”  

Axe narrowed his sockets at Black’s squared shoulders. For a split second, you could see the red orb of his eyelight flick over the man in front of you before it focused on you.  

“Sure that's all ya were doin’?” 

The fabric of Black’s gloves creaked. “IF YOU MUST KNOW, I WAS INSPECTING HER MAGIC FLOW. I’M NO EXPERT, BUT EVEN I CAN TELL IT’S RUNNING LOW. A MORE IMPORTANT QUESTION WOULD BE, WHY HAVEN’T YOU—” 

“I’ve been doin’ exactly what I need ta be. Don’t need ta explain myself either.” Rus stumbled into the room when Axe unceremoniously released him to motion to you. “Now, if yer done?” 

With a snarl, Black pointed a finger. “NOW SEE HERE YOU–” 

Instinctually, you reached out, stopping just before Black’s arm. “My lord, I!” You faltered at his abrupt attention, pulling back to dip your head in respect. “I thank you for your kindness, but I should return to my lord husband before any more misunderstandings occur.” 

His eyelights stuttered. “I, I BEG YOUR PARDON?” 

There was a beat of awkward silence before Axe broke into heavy laughter, the loudest and deepest you’ve heard from him. It was enough to warm your cheeks as he beckoned you out and away from the room. Black gaped, slack-jawed and sputtering as you passed. You were already being guided onto the deck by the time he was able to call out one last time from his doorway. 

“AXE! YOU WILL… THAT… YOU WILL EXPLAIN YOURSELF!” 

Axe only laughed harder, closing the doors behind you. 

The sun had mostly set by the time you stepped out into the humid sea air. You would have done anything in the past to be able to look up, out, and around but Axe was swift in guiding you down the main hatch. You didn’t want to linger longer than necessary anyway. 

You didn’t have Rus’s coat to hide under. 

You were grateful for the darkness once you were under. The lanterns were farther spread, some empty of light altogether. It helped ease your mind against the wandering eyes. Most gathered under the brightest lamps, playing cards at makeshift tables, drinking, and socializing while others lounged in hammocks hanging interspersed between the canons. While some watched you pass, Axe was surprisingly good at slipping through the darkest areas to avoid the unwanted attention.  

The closer you got to the front of the ship, the fewer people there were until you came upon barrels and crates stacked near and around an area quartered off by familiar heavy sheets. You could even recognize the stack you and Blue had hidden next to, the sheet on that side still halfway pulled down. Axe was kind enough to hold the flap for you to enter. 

Finally, you were able to relax the tension out of your shoulders and pained joints. You wanted to climb back into the hammock and rest your aching pelvis, maybe snuggle against Axe and his warmth. The way he moved about though had you gingerly sitting on his stool, setting it upright from where it had been knocked over. 

You wondered when that had occurred. What happened after you had been taken? 

... 

A quiet curse had you looking back at Axe as he re-fastened the makeshift wall. There were a few more rips in it than you remembered. If he had any sewing supplies, you would have to mend them. It was the least you could do as thanks. 

You let out a slow breath, peering down at your clenched fists. They were cold and stiff on your lap. Black had been interested in them. The lot of them had been interested in general, but he had seemed so focused. 

Your voice was soft, hesitant as you summoned the courage to speak. “Axe? I have so many questions, but I’m afraid… I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask.” 

Axe chuckled. “Don’t gotta be afraid with me, Dove. It’s good ta ask questions around here. The more ya know the better, good or bad. Don’t let anyone tell ya otherwise.” 

You picked at the hem of the shirt, smoothing it down as much as you could. “Is that true?" Axe simply grunted. Collecting yourself, you forced yourself to ask the questions burning your mind. "What is a Banthos? What does it mean to be one? And what did Black mean when he said my magic was too thin? I don’t have magic. I’m not… I’m not even a monster.” 

It was hard not to flinch when, from your peripherals, you saw him stop. His voice had become more serious but thankfully still soft.  

“The hell yer not. Listen, I don’t know what you’ve been told, where ya come from, or what ya been through. But you’re as much of a monster as the rest of us. You’re made of magic and hope just like me.” He came over to place your hand in his scarred one, taking a knee to look directly into your sockets. “We’re the same. Dust and all. It don’t matter about anything else. As fer your magic,” he rubbed his face with a frustrated sigh, “let me worry about that. Just know ya got it and I’m gonna make damn sure ta get it where it needs ta be.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that, but it sent a comforting feeling to your chest. He was always so warm. It reminded you of your mother.  

Nodding, you were about to ask about your first question when footsteps interrupted you. Axe stood, moving between you and the flap.  

“AXE, IT IS GETTING LATE. I HAVE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF PREPARING SANS’ ROOM FOR THE LITTLE MISS. I HOPE YOU HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN.”  

Axe only slightly relaxed at the sound of Papyrus’ voice, not moving but calling out to the other skeleton. “I can take her when we’re ready. Just got a few–” he bristled when Papyrus entered and smiled down at you, hand twitching at his side –“more things ta take care of.” 

“AND WHAT MIGHT THAT BE SO I MAY HELP?” When Axe only grumbled, Papyrus took it upon himself to continue. “WELL, WHILE YOU FIGURE THINGS OUT, I SHALL MAKE SURE TO GET HER SAFELY TO HER NEW LODGINGS.” 

You both tensed. “Papyrus. Paps. At least let things settle before ya drag er away. You saw Sans. I don’t trust him.” 

Papyrus looked a little sheepish at the accusation. “I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONCERN, BUT I HAVE FAITH THAT THIS WILL WORK. I MYSELF WILL KEEP AN EYE ON THINGS IF I MUST. He Means Well. NOT THAT, THAT IS AN EXCUSE FOR HIS TERRIBLE BEHAVIOR.” He came forward to place a hand on Axe’s shoulder, humble and pleading. “WON’T YOU AT LEAST TRUST ME?” 

You couldn’t place the look that crossed Axe’s face from the question, the red orb of his eyelight quaking until his free hand brushed the edges of his empty socket. “That’s cheat’n…” There was a heaviness to the silence.  

When Axe’s shoulders sagged, Papyrus gave him back his space. “All WILL BE WELL. I’M SURE OF IT.” 

You were uncertain as to what you needed to do, but before you could stand, Axe nudged you back down. With the reluctance of a stubborn cat, he then went about gathering items he had deemed yours, going so far as draping his favored blanket over your shoulders. When all was said and done, you were left with a surprisingly intricate box full of puzzles, Axe’s blanket, and an affectionate nuzzle to your neck.  

It was with a heavy heart and a glowing face that you eventually followed Papyrus back out into the darkness. 

You did your best to keep up with his long strides, missing Axe’s purposely slowed gait. You could feel the grinding strain on your pelvis and lower joints with each step. You focused on the clack of your feet to keep your mind off the aching. Papyrus was already several steps ahead of you when he got to the steps.  

Blessedly, he turned to wait for you. 

It was embarrassing how out of breath you had become from such a short distance, especially when you knew you didn’t technically need to breathe. You were even more so when Papyrus cocked his head to look you over with a contemplative hum. 

His smile was kind. “MY APOLOGIES MISS. I KNEW YOU WERE IN ROUGH SHAPE, BUT I HADN’T REALIZED…” He glanced up the steps. “PERHAPS IT WOULD BE BETTER FOR ME TO HELP.” 

Without so much as a warning, he picked you up and draped you across both of his arms. You almost dropped your box, squeaking in surprise as he ascended to the deck. Your mind and tongue had stopped working from the suddenness. Though Axe had carried you once before and had moved you a few times, you didn’t quite know what to think of this stranger picking you up so nonchalantly. It was as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him, smile just as polite and kind as before. 

With him carrying you, it took little time to cross the rest of the way back through the double doors and down to the end of the hall. Standing in front of the windowed doors, you were only jostled a little when he turned the knob. He used his boot to kick it open the rest of the way with a bang, making you flinch when the glass shook precariously. 

You thought you saw a flash of blue, but when you looked, there was nothing there but a railed raised platform with an extravagant-looking bed, windows lining the entirety of the back wall. 

You shuddered. It smelled overwhelmingly of snow and cold rain. 

Scrunching his nasal ridge, Papyrus walked around a heavy round table with a scattering of papers and a lantern. Stepping onto the platform, he carefully set you down, turning to furiously rip the blankets off the bed to ball and fling them across the room with a fwump. 

“FORGIVE MY IDIOT OF A BROTHER. I WILL BE HAVING A TALK WITH HIM ABOUT APPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR LATER. FOR NOW, I’M AFRAID THIS WILL HAVE TO DO. AT LEAST THE BED IS EXCEPTIONALLY COMFORTABLE.” He put his hand down to pat the mattress. “IT IS A GIMBAL BED, MADE WITH LARGER MONSTERS IN MIND SO YOU WILL HAVE PLENTY OF SPACE AND WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT THE TIPPING OF THE SHIP.” 

When you didn’t move, he gently ushered you to sit before making his way to the windows. It was so dark now that the light from the lamp effectively turned them into mirrors. You were grateful, too afraid to look through them. To your relief, Papyrus closed the many curtains for each once. Once done, he gently took your box and stood at the end of the bed, bowing slightly from the waist. 

“I WOULD STAY TO HELP YOU SETTLE, BUT I UNFORTUNATELY HAVE OTHER DUTIES I NEED TO TAKE CARE OF AT THIS TIME. BUT DO NOT FEAR, I WILL MAKE SURE SOMEONE WILL BE BY IN THE MORNING TO BRING YOU SOME TEA AND BREAKFAST AND TO WELCOME YOU.” Walking away, he stopped to place your box on the table and extinguish the lantern. “SLEEP WELL MISS.”  

With a wave, he picked up the bundle of discarded blankets and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 

… 

It was frightening, alone in the dark.

Previous Next SOH Master Grandmaster

[lunarharp]

returning to it

[cyber-skeletons]

Some unknown force corrupts what was supposed to be a routine groundbridge, resulting in the exchange of two universes' Optimus Primes. In one, a battle-hardened and world-weary Optimus struggles to reconcile the reality of new sparklings in peacetime with a Megatron trying to be better. In the other, Optimus is plunged back into a war he thought he'd finally put behind him, more desperate than he'd ever known, with a team that doesn't seem to value his humor or his emojis.

It begins.

[hollybrooke]

Wrote a silly little story about geopolitical conflicts using minecraft mechanics <3 Can confirm it’s better than the minecraft movie xoxo.

“Being taken under a weathered skeleton’s wing and moving into one of the last mob cities free from the Brine family’s chokehold on society was supposed to be a clean slate for Steve. It was supposed to be his only chance to lead a normal life (sort of). And it was, for a while. Between the human village just above them reporting suspicious mob behavior, Enderian soldiers acting out of turn, whispers of the Nether’s involvement, and Oceanic tribes wreaking havoc on the surface, It seemed his past was starting to run faster than he was. And It certainly didn’t help that the son of the End’s most decorated general got framed in an espionage scheme to undermine Overworld political barriers. Now the guy was digging into Steve’s past to open up old wounds and Steve had no choice but to help him do just that.”

[kaleidos-copia]

I made a ceramic plate based on one of the embroidered designs from Copia's skeleton stole!

(reference photos under the cut)

~

Figured this was a subtle yet cool way to incorporate my love of Ghost and Copia into my pottery :)

I'm obsessed with this stole and want one so bad (especially because I'm about to graduate college and will be wearing a boring university one 😪)

[isbergillustration]

They’re stuck in a loop

[ellie-writes-games]

Lucanis Lunchboxes Entry 7: Emmrich's Cake

What if Lucanis packed Rook lunchboxes with little notes in them throughout the main story?

WARNING! Major Spoilers on this one for Emmrich's Companion arc below!

Companion Option 1 of 2: If Emmrich remains mortal and Manfred is revived

No matter how well Spite and Lucanis may ever get along, there's no way I can imagine Lucanis enjoying the menace that Spite would become if he was hopped up on sugary birthday cake.

Companion Option 2 of 2: If Emmrich becomes a Lich

This is one that should sting a bit. The idea of Emmrich losing Manfred and then being unhappy with his unlife is heartbreaking.

**This is some fanfiction/fanart from an elder millennial (me) who is stuck in Thedas. These are NOT actual screenshots from the game.