#rewriting this was such a pain end me

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My Word; Chapter 2

The day continues, and this time you find yourself in an entire new world... a world called The Underground.

Character; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, more shenanigans, reader isn't happy

Content Warning; Intoxication (Lilia), swearing

Word Count; 2.7 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you end up in the Bog of Eternal Stench.

Lilia’s night was not going according to plan and he was mentally cursing himself over it.

Thing Lilia did not plan for #1; he got lost. To be fair though, many a thing had drastically changed since the last time he romped around the mortal realm. A few hundred years would do that though. Humans now seemed to live in tall metal boxes rather than the humble cottages of ages past. 

Thing Lilia did not plan for #2; a red flower deceiving him and containing something akin to liquor. So he was flying around lost while under the influence, which only worsened his situation. (Lilia did not know it, but the red flower was in fact a hummingbird feeder with sugar water which had been left out in the sun for too long and had fermented. Make sure to change your hummingbird feeder often on hot days so you don’t cause a nectar-loving friend to fly while wasted) 

Thing Lilia did not plan for #3; getting himself stuff in one of those tall metal boxes, and he was now stuck inside some cursed metal labyrinth. At least it was not iron or silver, as it did not burn, apparently, humans no longer fortified their abodes with those metals. Perhaps the times have changed for the better?

But Lilia finally escaped the infernal metal labyrinth, perhaps luck was finally on his side tonight after all! He bumped around a few corners. My my, what a small hovel. Perhaps things have not changed all that much from the last time I was here… But Lilia was rudely pulled from his thoughts when something swatted him clean out of the air. And the culprit? A rather rotund grey cat with large blue eyes, which was now carrying Lilia into its lair, most likely to play with him for a bit before deciding that it had had it’s fun and ultimately put him out of his misery.

His night went from a jolly and somewhat embarrassing tale he would regale about at the local tavern, to a bedtime story parents would tell their children about the dangers of going places that you really shouldn’t. Should he get out of this sticky situation Lilia would not live this incident down. 

The cat placed Lilia in a collection of socks and then sauntered off, calling out at the top of its lungs. Great, it's getting company for supper, and I’m the appetizer. How lovely. But Lilia knew he would have a better chance of getting out of this situation if he stayed calm and waited for an opportunity to escape. Even while tipsy, he could keep his cool.

And the feline was back and yanked Lilia out of the sock hole. Cracking open his one eye he saw that the cat did not come back with its hungry friends, but rather, a human. That was both good news and bad news. Good news; he most likely was not going to be eaten tonight! Yippee! Bad news; the last time he was in bat-form in a human’s abode, he was chased around with a torch, which he really did not want to go through again. So his best course of action was to play dead in this situation.

When the human left the room though, he took his chance and took flight once again, trying to find a way out. The cat was trying to catch him again, but Lilia knew of its tricks this time and dodged every swipe it sent his way.

But he was pulled out of his thoughts when the human screeched at the cat, “YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!” 

Oh yeah, they did not sound happy, not at all, but it seemed to be directed more at their feline companion rather than him.

As he was busy flapping around, trying to find an escape but to no avail, he also heard the human whispering to him. “Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat.”

Were he not preoccupied and in a better state of mind, Lilia would have been amused by this. Currently, though he was occupied with trying not to be eaten and finding a way out of this cursed place. He was not in a laughing mood. All Lilia wanted to do was get back home, pass out in his bed but he would also be happy with his sofa as well, and pretend that this was nothing more than a bad dream after a night spent tavern hopping. Dealing with a horrid hangover would be better than this… and he was most likely going to have one of those anyways. Tonight really wasn’t Lilia’s night, not at all.

Then the human grabbed the cat, and Lilia was finally left alone. The window was open, but he didn’t know that, as his mind was too preoccupied with you know, not dying, that he hadn’t noticed that the human had opened it for him. So where did Lilia go? Well, he went back into the metal labyrinth (air duct), and fumbled around until he tired himself out. It wasn’t the most ideal of spots to crash for the night, but it was better than going back and possibly being eaten, Lilia would rather avoid that. So this was going to be his bed for the night, a lonely quiet corner of the air duct system, where he could hopefully wake up sober tomorrow. But he yearned for his warm quilts that awaited for him back at home, back in Faerie, or as some call it, the Underground.

Lilia wasn’t even supposed to be in the mortal realm in the first place, but curiosity had won him over, and he even ignored the travel advisory that was in place. Some crow fae had travelled there about a century or so ago and had yet to return back, hence a travel advisory. But yet here he was in the mortal realm, tiny, drunk, and utterly lost. His bad decisions could be looked into further detail once he got some shut-eye. So he wrapped himself in his wings and passed out in the corner of the air vent. Hopefully, when he woke up he could turn this disastrous day around.

…

Upon waking up, Lilia groaned — or rather, in this case, squeaked — and stretched his wings out. So the wretched metal maze and last night's fiasco was not some liquor-hazed dream; how lovely. Utterly delightful.

At least the strange maze echoed sound quite well, so he knew what exits to avoid. Not that one, he could hear a dog barking, and the feline encounter was enough for him. No, not that one either, he could hear children screaming.

Finally, he came to an opening, there was some quiet chatter, but it was far enough away where Lilia felt comfortable enough to explore this potential escape route. 

Why does this look familiar? AM I BACK IN THE BUILDING?! Yes, yes he was. At least there was no sign of the ca–

“Mrp?” Speak of the devil.

The cat got out of its den and lept at Lilia, who dodged the attack, and the cat pushed some books off a desk. The cat was also screaming at him, and causing an all-around ruckus. Lilia managed to outmaneuver the feline, but soon a brand new human came into the scene.

The new human took one look at Lilia and backpedalled out of the room. But the human had just created another escape route for him, and Lilia flew, well, like a bat straight out of hell for it. Too bad the next room contained two more humans, including the one he had encountered from last night… maybe they would be nice again and spare him for trespassing on their small abode?

In the midst of the chaos, the human from last night knocked him out of the air with a broom. Okay, that hurt little Beastie. But that swing and the crash landing into a table caused Lilia to shift back into his human form, which also caused sparkles to happen. Did humans still think magic was evil? Well, he was about to find out.

Everyone remained silent, and after the sheer noise of the chaos, it was deafening, even the cat was quiet. And Lilia stared at the human that had knocked him out of the air, you. And you were staring straight back at him, looking utterly baffled. Well, this is awkward… I think I have overstayed my welcome… 

Lilia snapped his fingers, and he started to disappear into sparkles yet again, this time going home since he wasn’t able to use his magic when stuck in bat form. And it was happening without a pinch, but you seemed to trip on thin air and crash landed on his feet, disappearing with him; a stowaway coming to Faerie. 

… Well this is no good now, is it?

…

…

…

 When the green sparkles subsided, you found yourself sitting in some sort of bog, and the water had made it into your mouth by some twist of fate. While you were busy spitting the bog water out of your mouth, the stranger was standing by the bank, dry, without any sulfuric-tasting water in his mouth, and looking better for wear.

Pulling yourself out of the bog water — eugh, you smelled like eggs now, great — you pointed an accusatory finger at him, water dripping from the end. “Where,” you spat out some extra bog water from your mouth, “am I? And why does it reak of eggs?!” You would have looked and sounded more imposing, but you were sopping wet, covered in mud, and spitting out coughs trying to get the bad taste out of your mouth; which wasn’t really commanding any sort of respect.

The stranger, Lilia, snorted before letting out a cough, trying to hide his amusement very poorly. He waved his hand, green sparkles surrounded you and you were now dry, still covered in mud, but dry. “Faerie, although some call it the Underground.”

You opened your mouth, but he wagged his finger at you. “And before you blame me for bringing you here, you have no one to blame for this but yourself!” Despite the cheeriness, there was something cold and off putting in his eyes, like he was calculating something. But that moment passed, and the almost annoying cheerful facade came back in full. “As for the smell? That so happens to be The Bog of Eternal Stench!”

“Like eternal eternal?” You really didn’t need to smell like rotten eggs for the rest of your days.

The stranger just chuckled, “Fret not, Beastie, I decided to return the favour, since your feline friend decided not to eat me. But it is indeed ‘eternal eternal’ if you don’t have the means to get rid of it.”

Beastie? “Uh, okay.” not the most eloquent of things to say, but really, could anyone blame you? You just fell through some kind of portal, magic(?) was real, and oh yeah, so were fae/faeries or whatever the hell they called themselves. So ‘Uh, okay’ was perfectly fine in this situation.

Mr. Sparkles — if he was going to call you Beastie, he deserved a dumb nickname — just gave you a smile, exposing the barest hint of his fangs; despite his small frame, he was still dangerous, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. It was as if he was assessing you, to see if you would be worth the trouble to help. You didn’t know if either option would be good by the way his magenta eyes twinkled with mischief.

He let out a huff and started walking away, and you followed. “I wouldn’t recommend following me, Beastie,” he hummed, and you tripped over a rock, vines keeping you to the moss. “The court would not take kindly to you.” 

You glared at him and tried ripping the vines off of your feet, but they didn’t budge. “And why should I listen to you?” 

Mr. Sparkles booped you on the nose, “Well, it would ensure that you made it out of here alive, which I believe you would find beneficial and all.” 

Obnoxious prick. But he did have a point, you would rather make it back home alive rather than fucking around and finding out (aka dying). “So what? Are you going to just leave me here? No welcome brochure? Thanks.” 

You were being sarcastic, since it was either sarcasm or having a full-on existential crisis, since hey, magic wasn’t real in your world! Dimension? Galaxy? Where the fuck was this place?! How the hell did you end up here?!

“Hmm good point…” he snapped his fingers and there was now a book sitting in your lap. “This should suffice, do be warned though, Beastie, I may call on you later to return the favour. For now though,” he started to turn into green sparkles, “toodaloo!~” And he turned into a bat, flying off into the sunset, leaving you alone at the edge of the swamp with the only things to your name being the clothes on your back and a book in your lap.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! … Did he just give you this world’s equivalent of a For Dummies book? What the fuck? Was this kind of sick joke to him?

…

…

Once some of your ire had subsided, you decided to sit down on a boulder and read a bit of the book while there was still some sunlight out, but it was dipping into the horizon fast.

How to Survive the Underground; For Humans! By Yelworc Erid Preface …… i - iv Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night…… 1 - 10 Chapter 2; Edible Food for Humans …… 11 - 31 Chapter 3; The Basics of Fae Etiquette …… 32 - 35 3.1; Species Specifics …… 36 - 146 3.2; Government Specifics …… 147 - 169 Chapter 4; Help! I Have Been Indentured to a Fae! …… 170 - 200 Chapter 5; Adjusting to Fae Social Life …… 201 - 224 Chapter 6; Transmittable Illnesses & Diseases …… 225 - 261 Chapter 7; Fae Courting Practices …… 262 - 264 7.1; Species Specifications …… 265 - 366 7.2; Government Specifications …… 367 - 389 7.3; Accepting a Courting Proposal …… 390 - 393 7.4; Refusing a Courting Proposal …… 394 - 401 Chapter 8; How to Handle Fae Children …… 402 - 452 Chapter 9; How to Leave the Underground … 453 Chapter 10; Adjusting to Life in the Underground …… 454 - 482 Acknowledgments …… 483 - 485

Looking back up to the horizon, you quickly turned the pages to Chapter 1; Surviving Your First Night.

“If you are unable to find yourself some suitable shelter, one should find themselves safe by camping out in a rowan tree. These trees can easily be found by their vermillion clusters of berries. They keep away all native species of the Underground,” you read out loud, turning your attention to the trees nearby, searching for those berries. “Rowan tree, rowan tree–”

A loud screech coming from the undergrowth only pushed you further. 

Nope, I do not want to find out what THAT was! Nope! NoPe! NOPE! 

Finally, you found a tall enough tree and you hauled your ass up it like there was a fire below you, and you were up in the canopy, far enough up that nothing could reach you, but also high enough where you needed to be careful, since you didn’t want to meet an early death because you made a wrong move. But for now, you were safe.

“Nice try buddy,” you muttered to yourself, trying to get comfy. Wood wasn’t the comfiest thing in the world, but you weren’t really in the position to be complaining. “I am not on the menu.”

The screech came again, this time closer; yeah, you weren’t sleeping tonight. The sun was now beyond the horizon, and there was no moon, the only light coming from the stars above; it was very pretty, but you could see jack shit. This was going to be a long night… and not a fun one, since you could also see the glowing eyes of unknown creatures which were, quite frankly, freaky as fuck. So yeah, no sleep for you.

“This fucking sucks,” you grumbled, and a chittering from the bog seemed to mock you. “This really fucking sucks.”

…

…

…

…

Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @lucid-stories, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

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Author's Note; This chapter is shorter, but it felt natural to end the chapter like this. This chapter, and the previous one, were both rewrites of an old WIP, so from here on out I don't have to rewrite! YIPPEE!!! Rewriting takes me forever, so we shall see what I come up with next.

If you liked this, do check out my masterlist for more content!

[crossthread]

No jokes here. The Navy’s best pilot and the Navy’s best admiral. Between them, eight air-to-air combat kills and five stars. These were men who commanded respect with or without your approval. This was the picture of ruthless competence.

Debriefing (& Other Stories) • part 2 of Easier Done Than Said by @compacflt

[livelaughlovesubs]

I read this from yours https://www.tumblr.com/livelaughlovesubs/743492538930954240/pitiful-thing?source=share

And i couldn't help reading it due to your amazing writing even if im not really into sadism-, anyway can we have more raphael?a part 2 but can you make it fluffy/sweet if its okay? Thank you!

Hey hey! Thank you for reading it :D and like always, I’m sorry it took so long… anyway, here it is :>

How pitiful

Part one!

Raphael x reader

Word count: 5.9k

This includes: triggering content, angst (aftermath from the first part), mental breakdown? Very toxic, at the end there’s fluff (happy end?), reader is still the same (very selfish)

Okay so, I wanted to make this like fluffy and sweet, and I didn’t manage to do that. I’M SORRY. Cuz I had too many ideas and so the fluff part would only be at the end. Sometimes there are small pieces of it throughout the story, but yea. I didn’t want to stop in the middle of it and make a third part cuz then you wouldn’t get the fluff you wanted, so I’m sorry that you had to wait this long, even then it’s more angst than fluff I’m sorry.

After a while, the corrosive smell started to bother you. Your hands were dyed completely red now. They were sticky and had feathers stuck to them, the blood of the male dried too. For a moment, it felt like you had a hangover. The things you did in the last few hours and the emotions you felt were slowly fading away, leaving nothing but desire behind. All you remembered was a vivid dream akin experience, one where you got to finally feel alive after falling down this deep abyss. The sudden change in environment seems to have influenced you more than you imagined. How you yearned for the screams and cries of him. It has only been a few minutes, yet that feeling, the rush of adrenaline started to disappear like a childhood memory. You didn’t want to forget it, you wanted to keep it sealed within you forever.

Time was passing by like usual, yet for some reason you didn’t seem responsive, as if you weren’t really there. As if you were floating in space, every nerve in your body turned off and your senses dulled. You couldn’t really acknowledge your surroundings, simply at the wall, contemplating and thinking about whatever you did remember. Everything that happened was being replayed in your head like a show, sadly the graphic setting was low and everything was a blur. Except for those crimson eyes of him.

The different expressions his eyes bore were mesmerising, enough to leave its imprint on you. How the once fierce look he owned turned into one of uncertainties, of doubt and fear. Your room looked like the aftermath of a battle. Luckily for you it was at a hotel, so you wouldn’t need to clean it. This wasn’t earth, it wouldn’t matter if the owner sees all of this, the evident of your action, the proof of your true desires. You felt empty again, like the fulfilment you felt before was ran out. The hand on the back of his head moved to his cheeks, moving his face backwards. He has been resting his chin in the crook of your neck the entire time without making a single sound, slowly it got suspicious.

Raphael was breathing very weakly and shallow, apparently he also got a nosebleed. “Hey, wake up.” You muttered, rubbing his cheeks gently. His pale face had blood stains, but his eyes were still closed. Right now he looked very vulnerable, so helpless as if he was someone that needed protection. At the same time he also appeared like an innocent child in your eyes, one that’s been depraved of love. How pitiful he is, being cast aside by his creator and now stuck in the claws of a monster. Since you wore him out a lot, you let him sleep. It didn’t matter if you knew nothing about the anatomy of an angel, if one is exhausted they need to take a break. You laid him down onto the humid mattress before you got up to go to the bathroom.

Now that you cleaned yourself up and got a towel, you started to clean the still asleep male too, wiping the excessive body fluids of him away. It was a little disturbing considering you were the cause of all of this, but you could manage. When you saw the two holes on his belly, where his piercings have been, you gaged a little. The scene turned out to be a bit more grotesque than you remembered. Speaking of memories, it was strange how you couldn’t recall what happened very clearly. After all, it was just happened, as if you weren’t thinking clearly when you did all that. You didn’t regret it though, because if there’s one thing you remembered, then it’s that you loved every second of it. Every action to the words you spoke, you knew you enjoyed yourself a lot. Enough to make you want to go for a second round.

Eventually you finished wiping him, sitting down next to Raphael again. Still so quiet, this wasn’t normal. Your first thought was that he fell asleep, though upon further inspection his face was starting to get pale. Soon you realised that he passed out and sighed, “…not good.” It looked like he lost his consciousness, probably due to the excessive amount of blood he lost. One glance was all you needed to know your hypothesis was right. In the end, you did rip his wings off, not to mention how the bed was now akin to the red carpet. A stressed out groan left you, why were thing always so difficult. Aftercare is great and all, but what should you do if he needs immediate treatment? It’s not like you can carry him all the way to paradise lost. Will today be the day you kill someone for the first time?

Suddenly the door to your hotel room crashed down, and a group of devils barged in. These devils, they really know no manners. Though you were also glad to some degree, because you saw Satan, sitri, and Marbas. “Y/n!” The devil with the white hair ran towards you, but he stopped after taking three steps. Sitri, who was pushing Marbas, followed his king and stopped right next to him. “Solomon, what happened?” That devil asked, his voice was filled with confusion. They must be shocked to see the state the room is in, not to mention Raphael. “I’ll tell you later. Marbas, can you help this guy here? He’s lost a lot of blood.” You looked calm, terrifyingly so, no panic could be spotted in your voice nor did you have a fast heartbeat. “I’ll see what I can do.” Marbas answered after a bit and got out of his binds. When he got close enough to recognise who that was, he hesitated. He still started treating him afterwards, despite the identity of the patient.

“Satan, why are you here?” In all honesty, you didn’t care, and you had a vague idea how they knew your location, but you didn’t want to answer their questions. You weren’t in the mood to right now. “When you disappeared so suddenly, everyone got worried. Then sitri found you.” Nothing you couldn’t guess yourself. “And? Why’s Marbas here?” This time, the devil with the blue hair spoke up, “I heard two heartbeats, and I recognised that the other one was an angel. That’s why.” So they thought you got beaten up or injured, huh, if that’s the case they are pretty late for a rescue operation. “What about you tell us your side of the story now?” It seems like you won’t be able to get out of this one. You noticed that he gritted his teeth again, one look was enough to tell he wasn’t happy. “Well, you see…” “y/n, your majesty Satan and sitri. I’m done, I stopped the bleeding and treated his injuries. Though this won’t be enough, we’ll need to bring him to paradise lost.” In the nick of time Marbas reported his observations and actions, in contrary to what you predicted, you were able to dodge the questions again.

“Why do we need to go all the way there, won’t the hospital in Gehenna suffice?” Satan scoffed, he was getting more furious by the second. First your disappearance, now all the hassle for an enemy. “Because… I believe only his majesty lucifer and gamigin knows how to properly treat him.” Just as Satan was about to inquire about the former seraphim’s injuries, you barged in, “All right, we don’t have much time, no? Shouldn’t we be on the way?” Everything was taking too long, so you interrupted their little small talk and rushed them. In addition, you also walked over to the bed, picking up the white jacket that belonged to his outfit and wrapped him in it. Sitri seems to have finally caught on and helped you carrying him. This was going to be a long night. It was so much hassle just to keep someone alive, maybe you should let him die instead? Was it because of your hardened personality that you weren’t sorry for him, that you didn’t feel any remorse?

It’s been three weeks since Raphael got taken in at the hospital of paradise lost. Your life hasn’t changed much, in fact it reversed back to how it was before your second meeting with him. Today, while you were visiting him, the sleeping beauty finally opened his eyes. It did caught you off guard, so you started to call for the doctor. “You’re [—]. Ah, lucifer, where’s [——]?” His view was blurry, it was like watching black paint spread on a clean paper. Furthermore his head was hurting a lot, as if he had been on a carousel for too long. It was to the point he couldn’t even register your voice properly. “…where…?” The man uttered, it was more like a groan of pain than words. He tried to cover his eyes with his hand due to how bright it was, that’s when he noticed an IV stuck to his arm. “You [—] hospital, if you [——] noticed.” It was still difficult to understand you, but it got better the more he tried. “…is that you, y/n?” Raphael asked and his hand reached out to you, his body acted before he could think about it. You held his hand and intertwined your fingers, then you squeezed his hand. “Yes.” He flinched at that, a little surprised at this sudden gentleness coming from you. This wasn’t how you were like last time, but he didn’t hate it.

A few minutes later lucifer also came into the room, the patient froze upon seeing his former colleague, he also hold your hand more firmly. You didn’t need two brain cells to know they had something to say to each other, so you got up to leave the room. When you stopped holding his hand, he tensed up again, in the end he eventually let go. Were you overthinking it or was he acting differently than before? Nonetheless, you went out to get some food for him. With a bit of discussing and arguing, you got Satan to give you permission to keep him. He did almost die because of you, with that being said you also thought he’d be more wary of you. In the end, you were proven wrong. For the time being you were going to be nice to him, so that he will want to stay, it’d be no good if he runs away. It’s been three weeks now, three weeks of pure boredom. After all that torturous wait, you finally felt an ounce of excitement.

When you got back to his resting place with a bag of to go food, you met lucifer who was just coming out of the room. They must have had a very long talk, was what you thought. You weren’t really curious about what they talked about though, which is why you asked him instead, “can he get out today? He looks healthy enough.” To your surprise the male disagreed, explaining, “he lost his wings, he’ll need physiotherapy.” The confusion was written all over your face like the front cover of a magazine, you said with an irritated tone, “you mean he can’t walk?” “Not good at best.” You should trust the words of a doctor, especially him who has more experience than you, yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. “But, it’s his wings he lost. He always walked without showing them.” Lucifer was kingly enough to explain it to you, how much patience he must have, “not showing them and not having them are two different things. He’s been used to having wings it for as long as he lived, this sudden change will cause his body to lose balance, because…” he has too much patience for sure, normally you though he was a quiet guy, though it looks like he can talk a lot if it’s his field. Great, now you had to listen to him lecture you about angel anatomy.

A while later buer called for lucifer, he had something to take care of and left you alone. You on the other hand was standing in front of the patient room now, still holding the now cold bag. So he has to stay here for a month, and then continuously visit it to get better. Is this was you want? Slowly your thoughts were getting too complicated, which is why you stepped inside. “You are back.” You saw raphael turn his head towards you. How pitiful he looked, all bedridden like this. “Yea, are you hungry?” That was a very unnecessary question, really, you didn’t know why you just wasted your breath with that one. Nevertheless you got closer and sat down on the chair next to him, then opened the bag and let him look inside. Maybe you should have used the microwave first, if there was one that is. “It’s all for you.” You added, in case he misunderstands anything. His hand reached out to your direction, though instead of the food he grabbed your hand. “…” “…?” This was bizarre to say the least, he didn’t make any sense. Both of you stayed silent, a few minutes felt like days. Why did he do that? You wondered, but before you could ask he let go of your hand again and reached inside the bag. “Thanks.” The male whispered, then bit into his food.

It was awkward, none of you dared to say something about the new promises between you two. The situation already escalated to the point where you couldn’t go back, guess you had to keep your word then. At some point, after he finished his meal, he just stared at his hands clenching the blankets. It looked like he was deep in thoughts, maybe even regretting ever meeting you. Was what happened only a mistake done in the heat of the moment? Were you going to tell him, ‘sorry, I didn’t mean to’ and then leave? After taking everything from him? That’s what he was contemplating. He can’t return to heaven without his wings, not that he exactly wants to go back, but if hell doesn’t have a place for him where can he go to? Your expression was neutral, too calm even, he couldn’t read you.

It was frustrating, you didn’t get any backlash from it, yet his life had turned upside down. Out of nowhere he reached out to you again and grabbed you by your collar, “You have to take responsibility, you can’t leave me now.” The male threatened you, getting really close to your face. Despite his deep voice, you saw the fear in his eyes, like a stormy night filled with thunder. He moved up too fast, as well as using too much strength, causing him to lose balance and fall over, crashing into your arms with his upper body. This wasn’t anything too dangerous, since you managed to catch him and prevent the fall of you two. It still hurt a little, because his fingers were gripping your shoulders really tight.

“Be careful now.” You said, pulling him in to hug him tightly, watching him tremble a little. This is weird, it wasn’t a natural reaction, so you questioned, “What’s wrong?” “I can’t…” “What?” He was acting strange, this was starting to make you feel uneasy too. Suddenly you hugged you back, holding onto you while saying, “You can’t leave me, don’t leave, never again. You made me like this, you have to take responsibility. Please, please, don’t abandon me too.” His eyes were unfocused, hieratic and wild, he panted while uttering those words like a prayer. The aspect that confused you the most was his expression, an unsettling, forced smile as he clung to you, repeating those phrases like a madman, “don’t leave, I can’t afford it now, don’t leave me.”

You stroked his hair and tried to reassure him, his voice was shaking the entire time. Has he finally gone crazy now? “as long as you behave good, I won’t leave. I’d never leave. I’m right here, Raphael, I’m right here.” It doesn’t matter if he is delusional or not, it’s easier this way. What a twisted path fate has planned out for him, it seems like no matter which turn he takes, he’ll always end up miserable. Even so he just adores when you hold him, when you make his life worth living by planting the seed of love within him. Just a few words that doesn’t even need to be true are enough to wrap him around your finger. You were no good for him, this much was clear from the beginning. Like the deadliest drug, giving him the illusion of temporal happiness, all while slowly rotting him from the inside. He can’t get out of this, he doesn’t want to get out, as long as you are alive he’ll keep using this drug, begging you for more. You can’t leave now, and he’ll make sure it stays like this forever.

Soon your visiting time was over, it was the break of dawn and you had to go home. You wanted to leave and already got up from your seat, he then asked, “where are you going?” “I’m going home, you have to stay here for a while.” Something was amiss again, the atmosphere got heavier. His eyes widened and you saw him getting uncomfortable, the change was so drastically like a light switch. “Take me with you,” Raphael demanded. “What?” This surprised you now. “I want to go with you.” He repeated his words once again, after hearing it for the second time you were still bewildered.

You’d like to say you saw determination in his eyes, but you only saw suspicion and anxiety. “If you want to, but lucifer said…” You abruptly stopped mid sentence, before adding, “you know what, let’s just leave together.” Then you gave him a hand. He tried to stand up, one step after another and hold your hand firmly. Out of nowhere he fell forwards, crashing into you again. Just like last time you managed to grab him and prevent the fall. “Ugh.” The boy yelped a little, and with your help, he managed to get back on his feet. Why was his balance so off, you thought, before you remembered the words of lucifer. To think losing his wing would have such an impact on him, you didn’t imagine it’d be this bad.

But standing alone wasn’t enough. You took a few steps back, and waited for him to follow you. When he did, he instantly fell over again. This time you weren’t there to catch him, and he crashed onto the floor. “Ah..” it wasn’t really painful, considering what he went through, but it scared him. He couldn’t walk like before anymore and flying was definitely out of the question. Even if he knew it will get better, this shock still had a physiological effect on him. Was this truly his fate, the path his lord has chosen for him? Will he find the affection he never got once he reached the end of this? He stared back to his legs, cursing his pathetic state under his breath, why was everything so hard?

You on the other hand was mesmerised, those vulnerable and desperate actions of his were making forgotten emotions float up to the surface again. These were the feelings you missed for three weeks, life’s been so boring without him like the main component was missing. The way he looked so crude was making your heart pound. You wanted him, so bad it hurt. When he looked up to you, he met your gaze, the face you made was indescribable. Was it joy, want, or anger? It made him anxious. An unfamiliar place without anyone he can trust. He killed may devils, who knows when one of them would attack him? His helplessness was causing him to depend on you more and more. “Get up, here.” Once again you reached your hand out to him, and pulled him up. With you here to help him keep balance, he was able to move more precisely.

The two of you didn’t do anything dramatic, simply walking out of the hospital hand in hand. Even if you walked pass other devils, they didn’t dare to say anything. You were the descendant of Solomon, and he was the infamous red angel. Was. Sometimes he would trip a little and lean forward, but you always managed to keep him on his feet. It felt like escorting someone who was drunk. Soon you two got out of the hospital and you called for a taxi, then you opened the door and pushed him inside. Raphael held your hand the entire time, unwilling to let go even for a moment. And with that, you two were making your way back to Gehenna.

Now you’ve done it, you really broke out of the hospital. It was way less dramatic than you thought, even so it left a bad taste in your mouth. You could still turn back and act like all of this never happened, should you? Then you looked over to the man sitting next to you in the car, he was looking out of the window, observing hell. “How do you feel, Raphael? You only woke up today after all.” He flinched at your words, then turned around. “I’m fine, I don’t need to go back.” Silence, a pretty awkward one at that. You still haven’t figured out how you should treat him, just the thought that he didn’t feel any resentment towards you was weird. On one hand you wanted to talk about it, on the other hand you didn’t know if it was the right time to do so. Suddenly Raphael spoke up again, “can I hold your hand?” He’s been like that all day, wanting to do such an innocent act with you, as if you didn’t turn his life upside down. It wouldn’t hurt to agree, so you held your hand out. The male was still looking out the window, in addition to that he was also holding your hand now. The rest of the ride went by like this, quietly and peacefully.

Once you two arrived in Gehenna, you helped him get out of the car. He stumbled a little but he was able to walk, though sometimes he would lose his footing and stray off. With heavy steps you two managed to get to your room. The devils who saw you two didn’t stop you, in such instances it was better to stay curious than knowing somehting they shouldn’t. You two had to go up the stairs to reach your destination, that was fun. Really fun. After he arrived in your room, you immediately made him sit down on your bed. He panted a little, already tired, probably because he didn’t move for the past few weeks. Satan did allow him to stay here, but you weren’t sure if he had an own room yet, so you suggested, “You can stay here for the time being, until I get you a separate room.” “…can it be the one next to yours then?” He asked, it was more like a condition though. “I’ll see what I can do.” “Then i don’t mind staying here.” That wasn’t something he gets to decide. You didn’t know what to think about sharing your privacy like this, since you didn’t have an answer yet, you changed the topic.

“Raphael, how do you feel?” “I answered you already, I’m fine,” he sounded mildly annoyed. “Yea, alright. Then what you are thinking?” “What I am thinking? Let’s see.” Raphael stretched himself on your bed, while you stood in front of him. “I can still remember the pain very well. Don get me wrong, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I don’t need it.” The male started explaining, his expression was serious and nonchalant. Then he trailed off, “huh, my chest feels tight whenever you aren’t here, if I can’t make sure you are with me my air gets snapped off. Like someone is ripping my heart out of my chest by force.” You weren’t sure what to do with these information, based on what you understood it seems like he has a few screws loose. “And?” “And it aches, it hurts. I can’t stand the idea of being separated from you.” He fumbled with his sleeves, but he wasn’t uncomfortable with sharing his thoughts.

Suddenly, out of nowhere he raised his voice, those red eyes of his showed an insatiable hunger in them, a need that can’t be satisfied. He grabbed your leg and pleaded, “don’t hurt me, you can hurt my body but don’t hurt me. Don’t leave me on my own, okay?” It’d be an understatement to say you were caught off guard by his sudden touch. Instead of replying him, you tried to take a few steps backwards, but he held onto you tightly. “Please.” His voice echoed through the room, it kind of freaked you out. In the end you got closer to him, now only inches away from the boy. This seems to satisfy him to some amount and he continued, “my neck, hah…it feels like a hand is choking me. It’s snapping my air off. Choke me please, take this feeling away.” “What are you talking about?” You couldn’t keep your bewilderedness hidden anymore, trying hard to understand the current situation.

“You are the only thing I have left. It’s only fair if I’m the only one in yours too. I’ll be good, I’ll be obedient, please tell me you need me like how I need you.” His hands grabbed your hips, fingers digging into your waist. “Ugh! Wait a second…” “I gave you what you wanted, because of you I ended up like this, don’t you see how good I’ve been to you?” This was getting uncomfortable, you weren’t exacltly scared for your life, rather you were concerned about the situation. Was this the consequences of your actions? “Raphael, calm the fuck down!” You grabbed his arms, trying to yank them away. It was starting to hurt, his nails were scratching you. Even admits all of this you noticed the flickering of his eyes, how his hands trembled and how he was shaking.

“Don’t you love me? Don’t you adore me? Isn’t that why you did all of this? Please tell me it’s true, don’t tell me otherwise. I don’t care if you have to lie. I didn’t do all of that for you to abandon me. Aren’t I the only one who would go this far for you? Tell me, tell me…! Please. I can’t, I can’t breathe. Y/n. Tell me you love me, please, give me everything you have. This agonising pain is too much to bear. Numb those feelings down until i am a shell of what I used to be. You can take anything from me, even if it’s my eyes. It hurts, it pains, help me, please, I’m begging. I think I’m going mad, y/n, have I made the wrong choice? All of this ache is driving me insane, you are my only escape now. Take it all away, make it go away. Is there no end to my suffering?”

His emotions just exploded, everything was all over the place. He also started crying at the same time as well as shaking you back and forth. Anger, doubt and fear filled him up to the rim. There was only so much he could take, and today was his snapping point. Your hand moved first, slapping him across the face, soon it turned red. His little breakdown was going too far and you weren’t nice enough to deal with it. “Fuck I told you to calm down, what are you doing, spouting one nonsense after another?” It’s rare for you to get this angry. You’ve learned to have a lot of patience after coming to hell but this man was pushing you out of your comfort zone. “I’m not good enough. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again. I can do better.” For some reason you highly doubted it, I mean just listen to what bullshit he was spouting. “Keep your hand on me, hurt me all you want. I’ll keep you entertained, I can be perfection for you.” The stare he gave you was serious, his tears rolled down his cheek with no purpose. Once again he started yapping about some hallucinations and fantasies he had in his brain.

He felt awful. There was no other way to describe it. Everything hurt, there wasn’t anything worth living for but you. If you left now who knows what he’ll do. Being casted aside all this time made him more insecure than he expected. Like a small bunny that got separated from its mother, walking into the wolfs den without a single clue. All that’s left for him was to clench onto any trace of love he could get. With god gone now, he truly had nothing left to lose, he needed nothing but your affection. This wasn’t about you, this wasn’t about him neither. It was about his obsession with finally feeling loved by his creator. For once he wants to be important to someone, to be useful and seen.

This need of his has been building up for centuries, and now he finally gave in to it. God was it pathetic. The title angel should have never been given to the likes of him, he truly was the one mistake of god. Despite all that you couldn’t deny it, the way he panicked was a little cute. It made your stomach feel butterflies, or was it something? The knowledge that all of this was your work made you feel proud. What a wise decision it was to leave with him today, when he’s still the most unstable. Getting thrown into an unfamiliar environment, meeting all kinds of people that can kill you. Maybe you two were pretty similar after all.

You were planning on being nice to him, you really were, but not anymore after all this drama he caused. “Raphael what are you talking about? You don’t get to decide who I’m seeing!” The words that felt from your lips were like blades stabbing his chest, the filter you had was turned off now. “Be grateful, that someone like me is taking care of something so filthy like you! You know it yourself, you are miserable and vulgar, it’s so selfish of you to want to keep me to yourself.” If he was going to let himself run wild like that, he also had to expect some consequences. The face he pulled was priceless, truly youthful greatest joy now. Tears dropped down his cheeks, you were enjoying yourself again, just like three weeks ago. Yes, this was the feeling you desperately missed.

“Such a pathetic being like you is destined to end up like this. Giving yourself up for me, isn’t it only natural? God favours me and not you.” That was a statement you highly doubted, since you weren’t exactly happy about being down here. Nonetheless, you said it just to make your little dove more miserable. Then you cupped his red and warm face, it was completely drenched in his tears now. His eyes looked tired, he seems to be so done with everything, so you cooed at him, “how pitiful you look…If I own you, you will finally find a purpose in that worthless life of yours again. If you give me your everything, naturally I’ll give you something worthy of it too. You can have an ounce of my affection, isn’t it great? Such a high reward for something like you!”

This was inexplainable, whenever it came to him you were like a different person. Ruining him, breaking him, hurting him, all of this became your favourite hobby. You aren’t a sadist, you are only like this with him! You are a good person, you are saving everyone in hell! It seems even you has lost your mind now. How are you going to return to earth with this mindset? The two of you were a match made from the depths of hell, a place not even god dared to enter. A truly beautiful and twisted bridge full of thorns. Instead of fighting together you made him clear the way for you, only to push him into the deadly river afterwards. Why you’d go this far? Honestly you didn’t have a good reason, it was all done for the sake of your enjoyment. “You aren’t enough Raphael, you are never enough.” A soft smile appeared on your face as you chuckled. This was fulfilling, but that blackhole inside you ached for more. “I’m so sorry Raphael, that you were born, and that you have to keep living. I’m begging you, please be lonely forever. Do it for me?”

Raphael was sobbing quietly, yet his features didn’t tell he was sad, instead relief was written all over his face. He didn’t know why, but you were dazzling right now. When you touched him it felt like the hand of god, you were his replacement for his lord. “I know it hurts, it will only get worse from here on, but soon you’ll be craving the pain.” You whispered, wiping his tears away with tender movements. “Please endure all of this and live miserable with me for a long time.” Stay with you, forever, that was all he heard. He filtered the words out he didn’t want to hear, then he gave you a meek smile. How adorable, so damn cute you won’t ever let go of him. You caressed his cheeks from above, smiling back at him. No one could understand the relationship of you two, it was something truly unique and wonderful. Who would have thought that the bunny and the wolf ended up together?

“y/n, do you love me?” Raphael asked, it looks like he finally calmed down. How strange that such words were able to help him. Or it broke him more, who knows. You had to think about what to say, the feelings you experienced when you were with him, the ache you felt and how you wanted to do so many things to him. After a few moments, you eventually came to the conclusion this must be love. Love makes one crazy, if this isn’t love, then what is it? It would mean it was something much more sinister, and that didn’t have a nice sound to it. Maybe it was just a mutual reliance, each one takes something from the other they desperately need while hurting all the involved parties as they do. Even if that was the truth, you couldn’t care less. All you wanted to do was to hold him while he repeats the words, ‘I’m yours’. You kissed his forehead, then answered with a ‘yes’. He pulled you towards him and both of you fell onto the bed, it bounced a little due to your weights. Then, Raphael hugged you tightly as he whispered, “I’m glad. I love you too.”

[adastra121]

Monster (Touchstarved MC Rewrite)

I've been really loving the songs from Epic: The Musical and decided to do a lyrics rewrite of my favourite song from the Underworld Saga, "Monster," for the Touchstarved MC, because I thought it was fitting, possibly for an MC turning to the dark side.

I did a lyrics rewrite for another song from Epic for my Alchemist!MC and his mentor a while ago, but I didn't change too many of the lyrics, so I might revisit that one in the future.

MC: How has everything been turned against us? How did suffering become so endless? How am I to finally wash this blood away? Or do I need to change?

MC: I'm surrounded by the ghosts of minds they’ve lost, Haunted by the blood and death that I have caused. What if the greatest threat we'll find is not the mist, But this?

MC: What if I'm the monster? What if I'm in the wrong? What if I'm the Soulless that's been lurking in the Fog? These hands of mine had killed them. What if I must bear the guilt? What if after this curse goes away, I’ll remain a monster, still? What if I'm the monster…

MC: Does the temple bear the guilt when they kill? Do their deaths keep the priests up in the night? Or do they take and tame in the name of faith, And believe they have served their gods right?

MC: When a childhood friend makes a promise and then Stabs the back of the one they swore to save, Did they learn to be colder when they got older, And now they can save themselves the pain?

MC: When an exiled mage builds a child a cage, Does she fear all the lines that she must cross? Or she commands respect, keeps her feelings in check To find answers regardless of the cost.

MC: When a traveller goes unravelling the mind Of a stranger who helped them, are they vile? Or do they have no say, made to drive insane And cursed to survive?

MC: If I became the monster, and threw that guilt away… Would that make me stronger? Would it keep the curse at bay? If I became the monster to everyone but me… What if there’s no price too high, As long as I am free? If I became the—

Caravanners: Monster… MC: Oh, ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves. Traveller: Monster… MC: And deep down I know this well.

MC: I lost my best friend, I lost my mentor, my faith, Too many lives slain, I cannot wait! I must find the key to what I seek, or else more will bleed. So if I must face down dangerous trials and battles, I'll go where the Senobium won't travel, And if I must send another innocent to madness in an instant so that I can end this…

MC: Then I'll become the monster! I will deal the blow! And I'll become a monster like none they've ever known! So what if I'm the monster tearing through the Shroud? I must become the monster if I’m to make it out!

Priests: Monster! MC: I’ll find the key! Syndicate: Monster! MC: And if I must— Mentor: Monster! MC: Oh, ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves. Kuras, Leander, Vere, Ais, Mhin: Monster! MC: I’ll become the monster…

[kandicon]

*writes the same exact headcannons in slightly different scenarios over and over again*

[baeshijima]

someone needs to take my brain away from me. i beg. this is an sos. a cry for help.

[ivycorp]

Riot's TFP AU: Megatron as a patient, or how Soundwave tries to not go insane with his leader's unfortunate addiction to a certain Prime

From the moment Megatron left his quarters knowing that Soundwave was really cross with him, he knew there would be more consequences than just the communication blackout. Walking to the bridge he was barred from entering by the TIC, who simply pointed him in the direction of the medbay.

There were battles to be picked in one's life - and usually the warlord picked them all - but this time the guilt from disappointing his most loyal friend (beyond acceptable parameters) could not be stopped. It flooded his circuitry, making him flinch away and nod; he turned away from the door and followed the path to Knock Out's domain. Soundwave followed him like a shadow, most likely to ensure he reached the medic and stayed there for whatever reason he deemed necessary.

Megatron doubted he would like the outcome, but he knew that the blue mech was not actually plotting his demise - if Soundwave wanted him dead, he would already be melted down for the Cause before he stepped out of his room.

He wouldn't even blame him - TIC did not wish to lead, so it would not even be a selfish decision to climb rank. If Megatron ever became unsalvageable, Soundwave would put him down, simple as that. But before that ever happened, he would exhaust all the other options first.

Which, apparently, included getting the warlord examined. 

Knock Out turned towards the opening door, unsurprised to see their leader sulk inside, nor to see the company. He gestured towards the berth the warlord was repaired on just a day prior.

"Hop on, my Lord, I have been informed you require a full physical," the medic began, as he took a relevant datapad in his servo to take notes on.

Megatron shot a look at his TIC, and upon seeing a small motion of the helm indicating the direction of the berth, he crossed over and laid down his tired frame. When he felt a gentle tap and heard a firm but polite 'please open the mediport for me, sir', he allowed a rarely used panel to reveal the port entrance, feeling oddly vulnerable. He didn't have to worry about Knock Out doing anything dangerous in Soundwave's presence, but the multitudes of professionals had taken a look at him and either gave up at once, or did the same just after a short while - when they realized how uncooperative of a patient he was.

The silver mech didn't really mean to be so difficult - but nearly every piece of medication tasted so bad to him that he would end up throwing it up or away instead of taking it. His body was in a permanent state of screaming, and his coding had not been updated in eons. Because of this, there was a limited patience to explain to yet another doctor that:

Yes, he couldn't recharge regularly;

Yes, he was very sensitive to the bright lights, and it made his helm feel like it was splitting apart at times; 

Yes, he was aware his optics were no longer working as before.

No, he was having enough exercise;

No, he was not trying to off-line himself from lack of maintenance;

No, he would most certainly not discuss his self service schedule.

Meds, injections, operations - and, of course, therapy. The standard result. 

This only meant he would be purging his tanks for a month trying to follow any instruction and fail from the distasteful residue from the medicine - all of this causing him to lose hope of the diagnosis being correct. He would feel let down at the lack of effect, get angry, and the cycle continued. There were periodic attempts to get this addressed - until he finally went out to get Dark Energon and was under nobody's care for a couple of years.

Not that he needed somebody to take care of-

An image of smiling Optimus crossed his mind, and he scratched out that last thought.

Knock Out used his distraction to plug into the exposed port, completing handshakes with his old programming and starting the check-up procedure. He raised the datapad, frowned at it, and took a look at the warlord.

"My Lord, when was your last full frame medical check-up?" Knock Out inquired, tapping the empty log on the patient file.

Megatron muttered something quietly. 

"I didn't catch that, sir, you need to speak up, please," he asked again, a bit less patiently.

"I think it was before we left Cybertron," the mech answered without looking at the medic. He knew what to expect by then - a huff of anger, an exasperated sigh, or a combination of both.

Instead, Knock Out grew silent. 

The red bot turned towards Soundwave, clearing his intake to catch his attention. TIC flashed a questioning glyph on his visor, as the medic asked:

"Is there any upcoming operation that requires Lord Megatron's presence or particular skill set?" 

The blue mech paused, visor flashing with a flurry of images as he cycled through the upcoming plans and schedules. When the screen blanked once again, Soundwave shook his helm negative.

"Lord Megatron: not critical to operations before next rota generation," he added in a short burst of combined recordings. Knock Out nodded thoughtfully, still connected to the silver mech, and reached out to another datapad, filling it up and passing it to the TIC.

"That would be probably enough, if we don't take too many breaks," the mech said matter-of-factly, as the blue mech read up the contents of the form - before adding his own signature. 

"Splendid, that's taken care of," the red mech smiled, and added as an afterthought prompted by the newfound professional concern:

"Some of the tests will take a while, so I believe we could turn this into an opportunity to check up on the entire staff," Knock Out observed the TIC for a moment, and after receiving a tired nod, waved the mech politely away.

"Fantastic, I will send over the list for the worst offenders and for the necessary shopping - or specialists to start looking for," he added, as he already was opening up a call to his conjunx to get cracking on the personnel's files.

Megatron was slightly confused at the odd exchange, but when the form was passed back to the medic, pieces fell together. 

The rota is generated every six Earth's weeks. He could vaguely recall seeing the update warning a few days prior. The fact that the TIC signed anything the medic gave him, meant he was officially approving something.

They benched him.

As Soundwave turned to leave, Megatron blurted out a short chirp of distress, but remained in place when the visor turned to look at him one last time. 

If it had been anger, he would have understood, possibly tried to overwrite the signature with his own - but he knew his loyal friend for a long time, and this was not that. 

No, Soundwave was trying to hold onto hope. That Megatron could still be 'fixed'. The door slid shut, and the warlord felt hollow as his CPU supplied him with a number estimate of that happening. 

It was depressingly low.

"Well, My Lord, your file is currently very patchy, I will need to check everything," the medic's voice drew his attention back, as he stared at the smaller mech blankly. He tilted his helm curiously, but his silence was taken as a permission to speak more. Knock Out started explaining the details, the plan of a lengthy cycle of checks and possible treatments, when Megatron raised his servo to cut him off.

"Why do you bother telling me this?"

The implied 'it's not like I can disagree and leave' hung in the air. 

The red Con looked at him with a mix of worry and hesitation; putting the data pad he was holding on the side table, he decided to respond:

"Because you are not a subject to be studied, sir; you deserve to know what am I going to ask you about and why, especially since I would rather we worked together instead of me having to fight you on providing you medical care," said the medic, looking Megatron straight in the optics. Normally, it would make the bigger mech tense up, sensing competition - this time, he felt it was more of a look of careful wish for cordiality. 

He sometimes forgot that Knock Out was an actual medic that could do his job well. And apparently, for some inexplicable reason, decided to employ his skill fully in his case.

Megatron nodded his helm, and tried to focus on what his old-new doctor was saying. It seems he would be in for a long haul. 

*****

The check-up took a long time. As the warlord and medic were cooperating to help get a complete picture of what was out of the acceptable norm, Knock Out cursed not being able to discuss this with another professional - he was sure even Ratchet would not scoff at the multitude of issues he kept on adding to the file.

Lord Megatron was a medical disaster. 

The silver mech had been riddled with pain that became such a norm that only the strongest pain relief would have made any difference. He did admit that the Dark Energon provided a dampening effect, and the medic immediately pushed the internal fluid check to highest priority. 

Contamination from the use of the mysterious substance was spread out across the frame, lingering despite lack of external exposure at surprisingly active levels. Knock Out noted with alarm that the normal Energon digested was being tainted, most likely keeping the warlord sedated without his knowledge. 

To remove the influence of the Unmaker would be to remove the only relief - and Megatron was still in a lot of pain despite its presence. 

The red bot called for Soundwave's support when he had to share this particular piece of diagnosis, afraid of a possible lapse in the arrangement he managed to turn this situation into - worried it would cause the warlord to lash out. In an unlikely turn of events, Megatron's face blanked out, before he tersely agreed to get the flushing procedure started.

When he woke up afterwards, he stared at the ceiling of the medbay for a long time and turned to Knock Out:

"I severely underestimated just how much the Dark Energon numbed the pain," he said, gritting his denta, and the medic took the hint, excusing himself for a moment.

The low wail of pain could be heard through the walls. When it stopped, the red Con let a couple of short, measured in-vents out, before he got back. The silver mech was back to his stoic expression, but the curled servos indicated he was still struggling to get back to living with the actual amount of pain he knew he managed to suffer in silence before.

The return to the prior state of things was way harder than he expected.

Knock Out did not hold any viable alternative that could have rivaled or surpassed the effects of the substance they just purged from Megatron, but he was going to try to get one - or possibly get some of his patient's aches away. 

One of the easier identifiable issues came to when the red bot examined the warlord's optics. When the silver mech flinched away at the passing light, Knock Out nearly dropped his tool - he knew there were going to be problems connected with them, the medic himself left some notes with a string suggestion for corrective action, but it never went beyond a temporary measure in form of shaded corrective visor.

Mostly because Megatron kept on 'forgetting' to wear it. 

This time around, however, the access to mediport allowed the smaller mech to see the intense flare of pain, suggesting a helmache forming. He hummed before reaching out and deactivating the light, and ordering the other lights to dim. 

The ache receded, systems noting lower strain.

"My Liege, I know we talked about this, but you really should be wearing the shaded visor we prepared for you," Knock Out mentioned, putting the tool away on a prepared tray table. Megatron grumbled a bit, but the medic had grown to know by then that it did not mean he reached the end of his tether, but that the mech was reluctantly listening. 

The warlord not doing some sort of token protest usually meant he tuned the conversation out. Knock Out learned to sense those moments, usually waiting for the mech to get out of this particular tactic from sheer boredom.

"Do you still have the old one we made you?" asked the doctor, and seeing the shake of the silver helm, sighed. 

Another thing to make. 

"I will get one more done for you, sir, but if you don't use it, I'll have to wield the next onto your frame - your optics are set for much darker surroundings and no matter how many times I fix it, it shifts to pre-sets every time, causing you helmaches," he promised, putting a note down on the file. The medic could see Megatron was observing him, trying to gauge the seriousness of the threat; and at that point, Knock Out was very serious.

His momentary suggestion to check out the entire ship had ended up with way more work on his servos than he expected - worse yet, the mechs he was treating needed help beyond his skill. 

Soundwave was updating him daily on the procurement and negotiations, but the millennia of war effort meant there were not many who would be willing to provide help to Decepticons - unless, of course, they paid a hefty fee.

Starscream was handling the budgeting, and seeing this supplied his recommendation: they needed to call Swindle. He would be most likely to get the results despite the cut he would be taking, so they allowed the mech to search the markets for their targets. 

The shopping list grew every day. 

Swindle was ecstatic.

Knock Out additional concern was the odd disposition of their supreme commander - namely, the distaste for one of the most common additives there existed. It was nearly in all of the medications as a stabilizer, and it was very rare to have any perception of it in the Cybertronian population.

Obviously, Megatron had an extreme case of it.

At first, when the medic realized his patient was very reluctant to take the meds, he tried hiding it in refueling rations.

It was also the last attempt of this solution pathway.

Megatron was able to feel the slightest presence of it in whichever substance he consumed, making it impossible to hide. Knock Out had to go apologize to the SIC who got accused of trying to poison the warlord that day.

For some reason, however, when the medic found colored glass in a similar pattern as the meds, the warlord ended up loving them - crunching on the marbles happily. Bribing the mech into taking more medicine became slightly easier with the promise of getting more of these in return.

Luckily, this time around the oddities of the Decepticon commander's frame came in handy - the glass didn't cause any issues, instead processing them easily. Knock Out checked a few times for possible residue buildup which occurred in some mechs with foreign substances, and noted with relief no adverse effects. For all he cared, Megatron could eat as many as he wanted, if it meant he would take the medicine. 

Especially that they were still battling his insomnia… 

The silver mech's recharge logs were all over the place - with no rhyme or reason, and an alarmingly low average time of rest. 

There were, of course, exceptions - but the analysis of those, run in tandem with the known occurrences of loud music being played in particular quarters made it clear why that would be. 

Knock Out cringed inwardly; since they were trying to solve this problem too, that was not the answer they could utilize. 

*****

Solar cycles passed, and the life on Nemesis carried on. 

With the warlord confined to a rigid schedule and the SIC at the helm, everyone seemed to lose some of the tension that came with Megatron's return from space.

Dark Energon was now fully isolated in Shockwave's lab, behind three different access codes held between Starscream, Soundwave, and Knock Out - their commander was banned from approaching the substance under threat of getting Tarn as a round-the-clock minder. As the DJD's leader volunteered readily to do it, the warlord kept far away from the lab.

The peaceful time was met with enthusiasm: the Vehicons were thrilled to have time to indulge in their hobbies and getting slagged less, thus the sense of community grew. The trinkets that got collected from around the Earth started showing up in shared spaces, colors and soft lights getting incorporated into spartan decor of the Nemesis. The dimness remained, as per Knock Out's insistence, but the variety of the glittering points strewn across the halls provided enough coverage in a pleasant manner that even the officers found appealing.

As the majority of the crew had been either dragged or came in willingly for a check-up at the medbay, the morale improved; who knew that showing concern for the troops would make them feel better?

The communication blackout was still in effect, but there were exceptions added to the list, allowing the troops to be contacted on operations outside of the ship; the ongoing income streams have been re-opened too, due to the increased spending estimates.

The Nemesis has changed - but none of its inhabitants could say anything negative about it.

*****

After the first three weeks, both Soundwave and Knock Out were satisfied with Megatron's progress - to the point they found it fitting to provide positive reinforcement. 

Namely, returning the access to his private room for recharging.

Releasing the warlord from the all-cycle supervision was done on a condition that he would still show up at scheduled times so the medication could be monitored, but the privacy of own berth and trinkets was to help facilitate a gradual adjustment back to the normal daily routine. They couldn't shut him in medbay forever. 

Though it seemed Soundwave wouldn’t mind this idea, if it kept him away from Optimus.

For a while, it worked as intended - Megatron followed up on their agreement, coming on his own volition to see Knock Out before he would be escorted by Soundwave to the office, where he would be finishing up on the reports back-log. He was not yet allowed back on the bridge, but there was not so much happening with the operations schedule keeping things on the down low for at least another couple of weeks. Starscream had a good hold of matters, so he couldn’t even have an excuse to be more involved - it was annoying, but as the medication went on, he appreciated having time to deal with the most irritating of side-effects at his own pace, without multiple witnesses.

Coming back to his own quarters was odd, at first - he didn’t miss the sounds of resident medical staff getting it on, but that was mostly because he couldn’t reach the same level of completion in his own self-servicing due to his odd arrangement with Optimus; not to mention that he couldn't deny the couple their happiness when one of them was his direct physician which could (and would) leave Nemesis at the mere suggestion of this sort.

He got used to the red mech, and would rather avoid having to lose the one medic they have around - or at least the only one they had that did not look at every patient as a science experiment.

As he closed the door and started getting on the berth to rest, he sighed, feeling the buzz under his plating come to the forefront of his mind yet again. In the medbay, it was easier to avoid the temptation, but in the privacy of his room, it came back in full force. The warlord was trying to wait the desire out, already sensing that he was fighting a losing battle. He could not allow himself to overload, his mind reminded, indulging into it would only drive the frustration higher.

Megatron managed to wait it out for the entire three days.

As his systems reported increasing signs of struggle, on the fourth day he found himself stepping over the threshold and going automatically to the interior sound controls.

He didn't think consciously about what he was doing - his servos moved in a well-known pattern, familiar music filling the space, as he turned to resign himself to losing himself for a bit in another fantasy. 

A small explosion rocked the ship, stopping him from arranging himself in a preferred position on his knees. Momentarily distracted, he went to check it out, his combat systems greedily hoping for something to punch. When it turned out to be nothing major, he took off back to the room, where he was stopped by Soundwave standing by the door.

The music was still playing, only fractionally muted by the walls.

Megatron's plating tightened defensively, but when the TIC pointed him away with an air of disappointment, the silver mech sagged and obediently dragged himself to the medbay.

*****

The Decepticon leader had known payment for his relapse was due - the reinstated ban of his quarters was proof of that, but even he couldn't expect what his friend would choose as a revenge tactic.

When he heard the news of Autobots showing up to Starscream's operation, he was understandably curious, but as the fighting occurred during his scheduled medbay visit, he didn't pay it much thought.

Until the message arrived later on with two attachments. No words. Just the files.

But they came from Soundwave.

Megatron braced himself, and opened the first one.

The recording opened to his quarters, quickly led towards the storage compartment. The silver mech was mortified when a slim servo reached inside the closet and pulled the box with interfacing toys out. There was no looking around - Soundwave knew where it was and came for it directly. 

As he watched the path of the TIC lead to the incinerator in Shockwave's lab, he started to panic. 

The warlord was in denial the entire time, until he saw the box get tossed inside, opened slightly to allow the heat to reach the interior. The blue digits turned the settings lower - the container would not incinerate completely, but it would be greatly damaged nonetheless.

As the fire raged, Megatron's spark filled with anguish so visceral, he let out a noiseless cry the entire time the box burned. When its charred remains were moved into another container, his throat hurt despite him not uttering even a whimper. 

The recording ended.

He didn't want to see the other one, but he knew that if he didn't see it, Soundwave would force him to watch it the next day in the office. He resigned himself to being mortified beyond what he already felt.

Megatron was not disappointed in that regard.

It must have been the fight earlier this cycle, as they didn't get to face the Autobots in the meantime; he could see that the TIC emerged from the ground bridge carrying the same box he saw on the previous file. 

The warlord was initially alarmed that the blue mech would just give it to the Prime, but instead a fight broke out, the box forgotten.

Seeing Optimus struggling against his top lieutenants was difficult, but he could not stop feeling proud of his crew - he knew they were capable, and seeing it was always fantastic to witness. As much as he didn't want the Prime dead, he couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of Starscream and Soundwave partnering up. 

At least if they off-lined him in the end, he knew that they could take on anything. 

He was surprised to notice the newcomers to the field, recognising the frames easily from memory - nearly forgetting what this all was about.

When a sharp order to retreat came, he noticed Soundwave pointed towards something, prompting Starscream's goading towards the Prime, who was barely holding himself from overheating from exhaustion.

The box. 

The TIC stepped through the portal, but he looked back towards Optimus one more time.

Megatron knew he saw it too.

The wide blue optics filled with dread.

Optimus suspected what was inside - and if the warlord knew his lover as well as he hoped, he would have confirmed his guess. 

Prime knew their collection was gone.

The silver mech curled in on himself, his spark pulsing with sadness and humiliation.

*****

Megatron was devastated - and it showed.

The progress made with Knock Out, the changes to Nemesis, the general improvement of morale, even increasing the rate of victories - all of this didn't matter.

Their box was destroyed. There was no fixing it. 

And Optimus knew about it. They gave it to him, after all. Like a cursed gift.

The warlord felt unmoored - carried only by the routine he had complied with so far, missing at least a solar or two from his memory. He was mostly staring into nothingness, barely acknowledging anyone. 

At least Soundwave did not act like he didn't know why he behaved like this. The TIC was waiting him out, as the silver mech would not even speak to his friend, communicating in nods instead. Megatron still followed the schedule they set up for him, but the balance has shifted - the repetitiveness of his days was grating, instead of grounding. 

He felt trapped inside his frame.

Lying down on the slab in the medbay, he idly noted Knock Out's presence - he opened the medical port without prompting, and the red bot plugged in while maintaining a bit more distance than before. 

The warlord couldn't explain why it bothered him, so he kept his mouth shut; with the other monitoring his systems, it was hard to avoid confrontation.

"There was an odd spike across your multiple processes right now, my Lord - would you be able to tell me why that happened?" Knock Out asked tentatively, more carefully than he used to. Megatron didn't think he actually needed to provide an answer, but something in the medic's posture prompted him to say:

"You are acting differently."

The red mech startled at the reply, expecting another session of complete silence. He weighed his options, and sighed.

"Lord Megatron, your recent behavior led me to believe you wish to be left alone - as your physician I am unable to comply with this preference, but I will not force my presence on you more than necessary," Knock Out explained, tapping idly on the pad in hand. 

"I do wish to be left alone, but this has nothing to do with you, doctor," Megatron's words sounded perplexed, but honest. The title had been slipping into their conversations before, so the medic was pleasantly surprised it was not rescinded.

"I will take that as a vote of confidence in my skills then," Knock Out smiled, letting himself slide back into a more relaxed stance, as he pulled closer the tray with assorted meds for his patient. The frown on the warlord's faceplates did not go unnoticed, but there was little to be done there.

He needed to get the alternative medications soon, the rate at which they were going through the marbles collection was concerning.

Megatron took every pill into his servo and as fast as possible swallowed them in one go - the taste was dreadful and the quicker it went down, the less suffering would be there to experience afterwards. The worst was when something got stuck and he could not flush it down - he would rather claw his throat out at times like that then let it stay there to dissolve on its own.

The silver mech started to power down, knowing he should try to allow the new concoction from the Pit to do its job. Knock Out let out a quiet sound of relief, as the evening routine went by the easy way this time around. He bid his commander a quiet farewell and locked the door to the medbay behind.

*****

Megatron didn't realize when recharge claimed him, but an undefined time after he laid down, he found himself being shaken awake by a pair of familiar servos. 

He scoffed, unwilling to wake up, because he must still be asleep.

There was no way it was actually Optimus - he wouldn't do something as stupid as come onto Nemesis, so he must be dreaming.

The touch became more insistent, so he lazily on-lined his optics.

Red and blue filled his vision.

"Hello, love - you're finally awake, I was worried I wouldn't have a chance to talk to you," said Optimus with a smile, as he stood right by Megatron's shoulder like this situation was completely normal for them.

"What are you doing here?" Megatron hissed out, starting to get up, when a servo on his chest pushed him down. 

"No, don't get up - I need to leave soon, it took me a while to get around the lock and I'm expecting alarm to be raised pretty soon," rushed the Prime, patting the silver plating pacifyingly, placing a kiss onto the other's helm. 

Right as the warlord was about to say something, the shrill sound of intruder alert sounded out throughout the ship.

The Autobot cursed, as he fumbled around some item in his servo, before he pushed it into Megatron's hold. 

"Here, I got you something - I had some time and well… couldn't stop thinking about you, and suspected I was not the only one like that," Optimus chuckled right over his audial, so he could be heard over the sharp sounds filling the medbay. 

Megatron, who could not comprehend this surreal situation while still fighting off the effects of interrupted recharge, just nodded and curled his digits around the gift. He was rewarded with another kiss, and a thrilling purr of "thank you, darling," as Optimus stepped away, watching the door to the medbay.

The warlord sat numb, observing as lights of a ground bridge flickered in the dim room, and loud shouts were heard through the walls in the corridor. 

Prime lunged into the barely formed portal right as at least ten Vehicons, Breakdown and Starscream burst into the medbay, nearly falling over Knock Out's short frame as he keyed the entrance open. The shots they sent towards the source of light never reached the mech going through it, instead leaving scorch marks on the walls. 

"Lord Megatron, have you been injured?" Starscream inquired after it became obvious they came too late. The silver bot shook his helm negative, as he kept his field tucked in tightly. 

"Move the ship and check how he had been able to pinpoint our location," he ordered, shifting focus away from himself towards the security of the Nemesis. The seeker shot a suspicious look towards his leader, but nothing seemed out of order - and the concern raised by the mech was valid. They needed to understand how the Prime was able to get onto the ship and so far inside before the alert went out. 

They couldn't let it happen again.

Decepticon SIC nodded, offering an acknowledgement of the order back to the warlord, and waved everyone out. The seeker had to find and talk to Soundwave - the TIC would be most likely the only one who would be able to trace Optimus's path, and who could counter it.

Megatron watched them all go away, and when the doors closed with a soft whoosh, his field unwound itself, spreading around the space like an explosion.

He was filled with so many contrasting emotions, there was no way he would be able to recharge again.

Curling his digits around the small item in his servo, he pondered:

Perhaps he could spend the time on something more… pleasurable.

******************************

Another ficlet inspired by @transingthoseformers's TFP AU, a direct follow-up to this and running parallel to this - and fleshed out by these posts about Nemesis time wth Megs as a patient.

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft

Hiya Middy! Long time no see!! I hope life has been kind to you 💜💜💜

lol we're thinking on the same wavelength today @coldshrugs 😂 :>

anyway. This was supposed to be a snippet. It...did not end up being a snippet omg, it really got away from me kdlfhgjkfdhgk. It's 3:40 in the morning and this is the first piece I've (more or less) finished in like 3 or 4 months. It's just under 1,300 words. Set a few weeks after the big Endwalker finale, so vague mentions of what happened there.

[prompt meme]

nascent hope & new beginnings

The uneven rhythm of O’ravi’s cane tapping on the cobblestone announces her presence before she emerges from the early morning fog that blankets Sharlayan, and Aymeric sets aside the report he was reading, its contents immediately forgotten.

She’s starting to look like herself again, a clarity in her eyes now that’s been absent since her return from Ultima Thule. The silver and teal shawl she’s wrapped around her shoulders clashes somewhat oddly with the dark red tunic dress she wears, which in turn contrasts with the royal blue ribbon that holds her hair in a loose ponytail. It’s a far cry from the well-coordinated outfits she wears for business and battle, but it suits her.

O’ravi smiles, a little lopsidedly, a little shyly, and waves. “Hey.”

“Good morning, Ravi.” He can’t help it—he runs to meet her, and offers his arm. “You’re up early.”

“The pain was too great to stay in bed. So I thought I might as well seek you out, enjoy the fresh air.” She moves to link her arm through his but pauses, a strange look on her face. Instead, she reaches up to grasp his collar and tugs.

Wordlessly, and with no small amount of confusion, he acquiesces to her wish and leans down.

And softly, sweetly, feather-lightly, she presses a kiss to his lips.

She withdraws before he realizes what happened, content. His heart lurches like a wounded animal within his chest, his breath suddenly shaky, and she winds her arm through his as if she didn’t just send him reeling.

He can’t bear to look at her, he can’t bear to look away. The kiss in Ala Mhigo, before she set out for Garlemald—when she’d kissed him like her survival depended on it only to flee for the airship. That was moons ago, and they’d not spoken of it yet. It was never the right time.

Now, this. Against all the odds she defeated Meteion and Zenos and made it home alive, and she could’ve gone to anyone—could’ve sought out anyone she wished—but she chose to be here. With him.

Halone have mercy.

They walk together down the garden path back to the pavilion. Her gait is unsteady and torpid, but between him and the cane she’s at no risk of falling. It frustrates and distresses her to be so robbed of strength, but he’s just glad to see her up and about and alive. Safe, and free.

There’s a chill on the breeze, carrying the promise of snow and the memory of home. The long walks they took through the Pillars on the eve of battles she didn’t believe she’d return from. He lays a hand over hers, letting her clammy hands soak up his warmth. Soon, they’d go home together, and never again would she need to leave fearing what fate awaited her in far-off lands. Not if he had anything to say about it.

They make their way to the bench where Aymeric left the report, and O’ravi attempts to fold her legs beneath her only to cringe and hiss when the motion aggravates some half-dozen different wounds.

“Careful,” Aymeric says, settling down beside her.

“It never gets easier.” She leans the handle of her cane into the corner of the pavilion wall, careful not to knock it over lest its clattering disrupt the morning quiet. Her tail swishes placidly as she shifts to close the distance between them, ensuring that her arm rests against his and her leg likewise touches his.

He raises his hand slightly in silent offering; without hesitation, she twines her fingers through his.

“Aymeric,” she says, so softly it’s almost a whisper, “what do you think happens now that the Final Days are over? No more Ascians, no more Garlean expansionism, no more Hydaelyn and Zodiark…”

“Years of rebuilding, to start with. No nation was spared the destruction the blasphemies and towers wrought—in every corner of the world, entire communities were wiped out, the population slaughtered or turned, to say nothing of the state of Garlemald. We must needs—”

O’ravi laughs. “No, no, no, I meant: duty and the wider world be damned, what do you want for your future?”

Ah.

He blinks stupidly, trying to cobble together an answer. “I’ve not put much thought into it, to tell you the truth.”

In truth, that is a flat-out lie. Of course he’s thought about it. But what he wants, what he longs for above all else—he cannot ask that of her. What if the request hurts her? And, perhaps it’s selfish, but what if her answer hurts him? Their friendship is too important to take the risk. No, he will hold his tongue.

“You don’t have to have it all figured out right now,” she says, and while her smile is tender there’s a knowing look in her eye that he can’t withstand. “Just think about it for a while.”

He never has been good at lying to her. His one consolation is that she’s just as bad at lying to him.

“What of you? The world is yours now, your life is your own again. What will you do with it?”

“Well.” She straightens her spine, ears twitching excitedly, and her smile takes on a mischievous edge. “After all I’ve done, I have more than earned the right to live as I see fit. I’ve earned the right to put duty and responsibility and reputation aside—and I know someone else who has earned the same.”

“We do owe much to your fellow Scions and Warriors of Light.”

“No, Aymeric, I mean you.” She takes his other hand in her own and squeezes. “The future is ours now. Ours to shape, ours to live. After all we’ve bled and suffered and sacrificed, we need to do something for ourselves. Just this much at least.” She leans towards him, and he has no choice but to meet her gaze. “You give and you give and you give of yourself until you have nothing left. The world takes and it never gives back, and before you know it you’ve lost yourself. I know this is happening to you because it happened to me, too. You have to draw a line in the sand somewhere and say, this is mine, this belongs to me, and the world can’t touch it. Aymeric, may I tell you what I want for the future?”

The light is glinting off the gold veins that mar her eyes. Her sincerity is painful to behold.

“Of course.”

“I want you to find yourself again. I want to find me again…and I want us to do it together. I want us to walk into the future together, hand in hand, side by side. Whatever paths we walk going forward, I want us to walk them together until the end of our days.”

“I…”

By the Fury, how is he supposed to answer that? How is he meant to—?

His heart is racing, and she’s watching him with such an innocence, a kindness that’s driving him mad.

Her wish answers the question he couldn’t voice. Yet it still leaves some things up in the air, namely: will they continue to keep a distance between them? Pretend Ala Mhigo never happened and remain friends and naught more?

A deeply foolish thought—he knows what the answer to that is, even if he won’t admit it—but nonetheless…

O’ravi raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “What say you, my brilliant blue knight?” His thoughts are spinning too rapidly to be trusted now, so despite the fact he’ll likely regret it later, he follows the impulse of his heart and kisses the scar that cuts across the bridge of her nose. Let that be answer enough.

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

.

[unknown--author]

When you make a masterpiece of a work and you thought it autosaved, but it didn't:

[dargonpoop]

how is mikayuu the most canon a noncanon ship has ever been help me understand

[adastra121]

The Ones That Got Away (Touchstarved OC Rewrite)

I changed the lyrics to “The One That Got Away” by Katy Perry (I listened to this cover by Brielle Von Hugel), based on my Hound!MC Alon's backstory and their childhood friend's betrayal.

Summer in the city where we grew up. Running from our troubles and tryin’ our luck, Searching for a world that’d be big enough for two. Used to steal Headmaster’s liquor and climb to the roof. Dreamed about the future like we had a clue. Never thought that one day, I'd be losing you.

In another life, I’d still be your friend. We'd keep all those promises, be us until the end. In another life, you would make me stay, So I don't have to say you were the one that got away, The one that got away.

One night on that rooftop, we’d made our pact To leave these walls together, have each other’s backs. Sometimes when I miss you, I climb towards the sky. Summer kept on passing, and we grew up, Found something in the city much bigger than us. It’s time to face the music, we had long run out of luck.

But in another life, you’d be by my side. We'd keep all those promises to take charge of our lives. In another life, I would fight to stay, So I don't have to say you were the one that got away, The one that got away.

The one that got away.

All that money won’t buy back our time for me. Can't replace you with a million dreams. I never thought you’d turn our dream on me. So I guess this is goodbye.

But in another life, I could still believe That friends would keep their promises… In another life, we’d make our escape, And everyone who stayed would say we were the ones that got away.

The ones that got away…

In another life, I would make you stay So I don't have to say you were the one that got away. The one that got away…

[fallenoutoflove]

The realization that this breakup hurts so much because they confirmed a subconscious belief that I’ve had my entire life, that I’m not enough.

Consciously sure I always will tell people I’m amazing, I’m beautiful, I’m hard working etc, but I grew up in a house hold where I was always not enough for my family. So my subconscious is devastated right now at the thought that I once again- wasn’t enough for someone I loved.

[shoechoe]

I have mixed thoughts on that 6k Pucci analysis I made over a year ago now. On one hand I kind of like looking back at it because I feel like I've improved a lot with my writing but on the other... man I really don't like it anymore

[aparticularbandit]

...yeah, there's a very distinct reason for the shift between she/her being used to describe junko in these memories and you/your and like.

sometimes, yes, it's junko beating ryoko over the head with you are me you made these decisions we are the same but also sometimes it's you're the one who fell you absolute idiot this is your fault.

[melzula]

hii i was wondering could you write a oneshot of how zuko's self cautious of his scar and reader just kisses his scar and reassures him and tells him that hes perfect and that she loves everything abt him. This is in a very like intimate and loving way ykyk

a/n: ah this plot is so sweet! had to rewrite this piece a few times before landing on something i liked so i hope you enjoy!

summary: zuko asks you to remove his bandages

“Are you sure you want me to do this? I can fetch Iroh instead.”

“No,” comes Zuko’s soft reply, his sullen features bathed in candle light. “I want it to be you.”

Sighing softly, you give him an understanding nod and press a careful kiss to his check. The Prince remains stoic in spite of your show of affection, simply signaling for you to proceed.

It’s been a week since the Agni Kai, and the healer has given Zuko the okay to remove his bandages. The wound should be healed by now, nothing but a painless scar with a painful memory attached to it. It’s not only your first time seeing Zuko’s new face but his as well, and neither of you are sure what to expect.

You were honestly surprised when the Prince had asked for you to be the one to remove his bandages. He’d been cold and standoffish with you since your departure from the Fire Nation, something you couldn’t blame him for considering all he’d been through, but you didn’t expect him to trust you with something so important so soon. It made you nervous, but it also made you relieved to know he still felt he could trust you with such things.

Your fingers work carefully as you unravel the white cloth around his head, doing your best not to cause too much discomfort for your Prince. He says nothing as you move and only watches you through the reflection of the mirror before him.

“Are you ready?” You ask him softly, hesitating as you reach the final layer of wrapping.

“Hesitation is a sign of weakness,” Zuko replies gruffly, and that’s all you need to hear before finally pulling away the last of the bandages.

The room is silent and tense as Zuko stares at his own reflection. The skin around his eye is angry and red, permanently damaged and forever serving as a reminder of his failure. He can hardly see out of his left eye, but he’s still able to make out your figure watching on silently as he assesses the damage.

“Go ahead and say it.”

“Say what, Zuko?” You murmur softly, carefully resting a hand upon his back.

“Say you’re disgusted by me. Say you’re repulsed,” he snarls bitterly. “Say that you’re too embarrassed to be seen with such a failure!”

“Is that really what you think?” You utter sadly, a pained smile on your lips as you carefully reach out to touch his face. His hand immediately flies up to catch your wrist in a firm grip before you can get any closer, and despite the discomfort it brings you make no attempt to move.

“It’s what I know.”

“Then you must not know me at all,” you counter with a small shake of your head.

Reality sets in and Zuko guiltily removes his ironclad grip on your wrist. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh with you, but there’s an amalgamation of emotions festering within him at the sight of his deformity. He was a Prince, he wasn’t meant to look like this, he wasn’t meant to be out at sea fruitlessly trying to find the Avatar so he could end his banishment. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“You’re perfect, Zuko,” you console with a careful brush of your fingertips against the freshly healed skin. His eyes flutter shut at the comforting sensation, and you take it as a sign to continue. “I love you the way you are, and this scar doesn’t change that.”

He can’t help but gasp when he feels the softness of your lips pressing against his temple. How could you not feel sickened by him? How could you still love him after everything?

“Your scar is nothing but a sign of your strength, I hope you know that,” you tell him before pressing another kiss to his cheek just below his eye.

He says nothing in response, but you know that he understands you. With you, he doesn’t have to feel shame or guilt. Your love for him knows no bounds, and there’s nothing he could do that would ever make you turn away from him.

He sits in silence as you begin to apply a soothing balm to his skin. His eyes close in contentment and for the first time since leaving home he finally feels at peace.

He knows then that he made the right choice in having you be the one to remove his bandages. No one sees him like you do, and it’s more than he could ever ask for.

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