MINORS DNI THIS IS AN NSFW SPACE Age in bio or you get blocked. Call me Spider, age 25, Leo is my sign, I am tired and sometimes post fanfiction here. My AO3 is ElectrifiedLove I will link in my BYF. She/They/It
Fandom: My Hero Academia,
Warnings: Kidnapping, Drugging, Lacking Prep, Con-Non-Con, The Tiniest Amount of Blood,
Word Count: 4.9k,
Summary: A Halloween date goes exactly to plan.
A/N: w/a surprise cast.
‘So…’ You run a finger down Sero’s chest, skating from leather jacket, to pressed shirt, to skin. There’s a covering of hair peeking from his collar that tickles as you stroke it, conjuring visions that make you want to know just how far the hair goes. ‘Do I get a second date?’
He chuckles, a deep, throaty noise that vibrates the back of his neck. His palms are already cradling your waist, his thumb skating across the fabric of your dress. With each passing second, his composure frays. Fuck. You’d accidentally flashed him your fucking underwear back in the restaurant and he’d been a perfect gentleman and not looked. Well, he’d not stared at least - just tugged at the edge of your skirts and helped you readjust. He cocks an eyebrow, pulls you in tight. ‘Who said the first one is over?’
‘Isn’t it?’ You bite back a smile, but it doesn’t work.
‘My place is like a twenty minute walk -.’
Pressing your lips to his, you wink and leave him with the tingling of your apple-spiced lipgloss as you step away. ‘Say less. Just let me text my roommate, tell her not to wait up.’
The smile he gives you could light up a room. It’s crooked and too big for his face, but bleeds boyish charm as he rocks back on his feet like he’s just won the lottery. ‘Yeah, yeah. Of course.’
You hold up a finger trying to shake the nervous energy bubbling up inside of you. It’s always like this, no matter how many times you do it. You still get giddy. Slipping your hand into a pocket, you snatch out your phone and tap out a quick message. The usual stuff. And, then, you’re back with him.
His hands are broad and firm, callosed against your palms. He’d told you he was a painter, both commercially and artistically. In fact, some of the canvas’ he’d shown you had been pretty good. Almost as good as the small block of flats he was currently painting ‘Moon Shimmer’ on behalf of an unusually picky client. Slowing his strides so as not to hurry you, he lifts your clasped hands and kisses the curve of your knuckles leaving the stickiness of your lipgloss in his wake. ‘S’not far.’
The streets are dark at this hour, with only the jaundiced light cast down from the lamps making your path visible. Still, you’re not scared. Bumping your shoulder against his, you dissolve into a mess of soft giggles when he knocks you back and smiles. ‘I love this time of year?’
‘Autumn or Halloween?’
You shrug and swing your hands. ‘Both. But, I mean Halloween.’
As you near the estate, the decorations begin to crop up. There’s a string of pumpkins nestled in the leaves of a hedge, their mouths glowing with fairy light. In the front garden of the flats is an inflatable ghoul, in the window of a house across the way a model of the grim reaper covered in cobwebs. It’s pretty, quaint in its own pseudo-scary way.
‘Yeah?’ He cocks his head. ‘Didn’t have you down for someone into spooky stuff?’
You bat your eyes at him and bite your lip. ‘No? What did you have me down for then?’
It happens so fast.
Too fast.
One minute you’re staring up at him with stars in your eyes, flirting with the idea of letting him take you in the street and the next, you’re being held by the throat. Instantly, your hands are at your neck and clawing, desperately trying to free yourself. You kick out and thrash, suddenly aware that your feet are being lifted from the floor leaving you dangling.
‘Stop thrashing, Sweetheart - Or i’ll do a lot worse to your little boyfriend over here.’
The man with his hand around your throat is huge. His chest is barrelled, his arms almost the size of your skull and neither seem strained by the entirety of your weight dangling from his grip. There’s a scar on his face, one that cuts cleanly through his right eye and ends just below his cheek bone. The eye itself has gone cloudy, a white marble nestled in the socket that seems to glow in the low light. Around his threats, his lips seem to shimmer.
You stop, muscles freezing.
‘Fuck. You can have my wallet, my phone… Just, just fucking take it.’ Sero’s back is pressed to the wall. Despite his lean frame and gangling height, the other man towers over him - a head taller and then some. Although, it’s the blade pressed to his sternum that is doing the job of keeping him still. Stuffing his hands into his pocket, he retrieves his valuables and offers them up, shaking as he does.
The man laughs. He tosses his head, letting his hood slip backward; exposing a slither of hair. The root is black, an inch of midnight, but after that, fire-engine red sprouts like firelight. ‘I don’t want your shit.’ Smacking Sero’s hand, he sends the offerings to the floor.
Sero yelps. ‘What do you want?..’ He glances at you, his eyes wide with panic. ‘Just, just don’t hurt us. Okay?’
‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ Turning his head, he lets his eyes roam over your body. He looks predatory, with a set of teeth that would put a shark to shame. He winks. ‘Just play with you a little.’
The grip around your throat is gone in an instant, abandoning you to collapse to the floor in a heap. You suck air into your lungs, greedily inhale until the blurriness fades from your vision. Scrambling back, you bloody your palms on the floor in an effort to escape, to distance yourself from the man in front of you.
If he notices, he certainly doesn’t care. Setting one of his large hands loose in his pocket, he retrieves a thin piece of cloth. The handkerchief is red, soft to the touch and monogrammed - an embroidered gold ‘BR’ sitting neatly in one of its corners. It smells of rubbing alcohol and apples.
‘No. No. Fuck… What the fuck do you want, mate? I’ll do whatever you want.’ There’s a rawness to Sero’s voice now. A broken edge that grates on his throat. Panic swells in his chest. It constricts his lungs and makes his fingers twitchy, his stomach burning on his every vowel as more pleas are kicked up his throat. He glances to you, watches as you scramble backwards and hopes that at least you’ll make it away.
Flashing his teeth, the man lifts the cloth, pressing it over Sero’s mouth. ‘I told you. I just want to play.’
When Sero finally wakes he’s cold. His whole body is curled, his jacket and jeans stripped, leaving large breadths of skin exposed to the bite of the concrete floor. The roof of his mouth is dry, his tongue shriveled, forcing his throat to convulse and spasm. Placing a palm on the floor, he lifts his head.
The room is dark, unlit apart from a singular light bulb that hangs by its wire from the ceiling. Sero squints. The light puddles at the far end of the room, bathing a fully made bed in clear white. It looks out of place, odd in its decadence considering its surroundings, but it’s there nonetheless and atop it, splayed on its sheets is you.
Sero’s up. His limbs are numb and heavy, fighting him with every step as he drags himself across the room, but he does it. Collapsing at your bedside, he claws his way to his knees and almost chokes when he notices the state you’re in.
Thick cuffs wrap your wrists and hold your arms above your head, the chains that connect them securing you to the metal grill of the headboard. Your body is bare, exposed and draped with only the thinnest of shifts to cover your modesty.
‘Oh, no… Hey. Hey. Wake up, c’mon. Wake up.’ He reaches for you, his fingers gracing the curve of your cheek and the plush of your lower lip. Your breath tickles his fingers, makes him sigh with relief.
Groaning, your eyes flicker open. You swallow and try to sit up. ‘Sero?’
The chains keep you down.
‘What the fuck?’ Yanking on your cuffs, you try to rise again.
‘Not getting out of those, Sweetheart.’ A smokey laugh trickles from the far end of the room through glistening lips. Leant back in a chair far too small for his frame is the man. He’s shirtless now, wearing nothing, but a pair of black military pants and matching boots that look as though they’ve seen better days. On his knee rests a gun. His arm is relaxed, fingers parallel to the trigger as the butt digs into the flesh of his leg.
He looks… comfortable.
Sero’s heart stops. He’d awoken at the man’s feet, defenseless, before scampering off to you. He turns his mind away from the thoughts of what could have happened had he not chosen to move. ‘Where are we?’
The hair on the back of your neck stands to attention and salutes your demise, the chill slinking down your back to make a xylophone of your spine. You’re shivering, your lack of dress making self-consciousness and self-preservation war in your chest. A scream freezes to your lungs. ‘What are you going to do with us?’
‘Me?’ The man relaxes further, the slope of his broad shoulders an upturned bracket balanced on his collarbones. ‘I’m not gonna do anything…’ He lifts the gun, gesturing between the two of you. ‘You on the other hand -.’
Sero stands, willing his knees not to shake. ‘I’m not hurting her.’
‘Not even a little?’ The man pouts. ‘What if she likes it? I bet she likes it’
‘What the fuck are you? Some kind of fucking -.’
‘Pervert?’ He spreads his legs, showing off the thick bulge stretching the tension of his zip. It’s massive, the outline evident as his cock sits across his left thigh lazily, leaning into the crease of his pelvis. ‘Something like that.’
A snarl twists Sero’s mouth. He’s been in his fair share of fights, come out of them alright too. He swallows, but there’s no way he’s coming out of this one on top. For fucks sake his waist is the same size as one of this guy’s biceps. His heart hammers in his chest, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he runs a million and one outcomes through his mind.
‘Don’t even think about it, baby boy.’ The man chuckles. ‘Think you’re quicker than a bullet?’
A groan ricochettes around the room, echoing off metal walls.
You still. Squinting beyond your pool of light, you let your eyes adjust to the din. There, in the darkness are cages. Human sized cells bracket the room, the thick metal bars hiding whatever lingers inside.
The moan comes again.
‘Oi.’ Kicking at the bars of the nearest cage, the man silences the occupant. ‘Patience. It’s a virtue, y’know.’
Sero steps back. He’s out of his depth. The blood in his veins is cold, his skin frostbitten and pale. In the back of his mind, he writes to his mother - apologizes for not coming home more often, for not teaching his little sister to drive like he promised. He makes his peace, condemns himself to whatever might happen next. ‘What the fuck…’
‘We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.’ The man laughs at his own joke, pecs bouncing as he settles himself again. ‘You were going to fuck her anyway.’
‘Please.’
Sero’s head snaps to you. You sound terrified, broken… Expectant.
‘Just… Just do it.’ The skin around your wrists is raw and bleeding, but still the cuff’s won’t give. There’s no escape. Your stomach turns, bile crawling up your throat as a tsunami of tears threatens to spill over the basin of your eyelid. ‘Please, just - just give him what he wants. I -’ A tear slips your lid, rolling over the curve of your cheek. ‘I just want to go home.’
Puffing up his chest, Sero lays a hand on your arm and soothes you with a swipe of his thumb. There’s a heat under his skin, one that makes something disgusting roll in his stomach. He bites the edge of his tongue. Is he really considering this? ‘And you’ll let us go if we…’
‘Yeah, with not a little hair harmed on your heads.’
‘Okay. Fuck. Right. Okay.’ There’s a shake in Sero’s hands when he finally clambers on the bed. It wobbles the mattress, making his progress tricky as he perches above you. Splayed out underneath him, you look beautiful - a Princess in chains, all ready for the taking. His stomach clenches.
A chuckle. ‘If you need a name to scream, mine’s Riot.’
Sero’s stomach flips.
‘Do you need me to -.’
Your voice distracts him, pulling him back immediately. He inhales, smells apples on your skin and lets his body relax.
You glance between his legs and let your words die on your tongue. You’d been about to offer your mouth, or maybe your tits - something to assist him, but as you watch his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers you realise your service isn’t needed.
He shakes his head, swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth. A tendril of shame wraps itself around the back of his neck and dives, poisoning his organs as it squirms its way to his guts. There it nestles, promising to rear its head again. He coughs, humming through his hesitance.
‘What?’ Riot laughs, the noise bursting out of his chest as he seems to spread his legs wider. In his hand, the gun jumps. ‘You waiting for lube or something, pretty boy? Because if you need help getting her wet you’re gonna have to get it from the tap.’
Craning your head, you squeak when you see it. There’s a wet patch on the front of the man’s pants, the material darkened where the head of his cock bulges. It’s obscene… And so is your body's response. Your cunt pulses, drooling as you feel arousal drip down the inside of your thigh. It makes something roll in your stomach, something deep and twisted and sickly sweet.
Shaking his head, Sero tries to rattle his brain into shape. His thoughts race, colliding into one another as he attempts to make sense of his imprisonment, but nothing sticks. His chest hollows. ‘I’m gonna… Gonna put it in now, okay?’
You nod and lift your hips, watching as Sero takes himself out of his boxers. He gives himself a long, tight stroke, twisting his wrist as he reaches the head and squeezing a droplet of pearlecent pre-cum from its tip.
His cock is long, peaking an inch past his fist as he glides his hand back towards his base, and slim. A nest of black pubic hair nestles at its base, a series of gently purpled veins snaking from their hiding place to skirt up the underside of his shaft. The head is plump, a brown rose, slick and glistening from his own excitement. He’s pretty, but the thing that draws your eye the most is the trio of bar-bell piercings decorating the underside. Looking at them makes your mouth wet, your tongue an upturned umbrella as you swallow.
A hand stretches across the turn of your thigh, splaying over the joint as his thumb comes up to swipe at your folds. Holding you open, he feels his lungs stutter as he watches your clit twitch. It’s sickening how he feels his stomach clench, how his cock kicks in his hand and leaks through his fingers. He continues to work himself as he explores. His fingers brush over your entrance, almost dipping in, but never quite breaching you.
‘C’mon, Pretty boy…’ From the corner Riot sings, his voice silky smooth until it’s not. Boiling in the back of his throat, his words turn to grit as a growl slips through his lips. ‘We haven’t got all night.’ He bends back his wrist, cocking the gun.
Sero swallows. His Adams Apple bobs in his throat and catches, sticking there as he tries to calm his nerves. He feels frayed, wired as he shifts forwards on his knees and settles down on his haunches. Jutting out his hips, he offers you a smile that is not quite laced with enough guilt before he’s forcing the blunt head of his cock into you.
One minute, you’re empty, your cunt fluttering around nothing, and then, you’re squirming and struggling to take him. The metal of his piercing rubs at your insides, itching at you, digging in and making you want to lift your hips. The lack of prep is immediately apparent. You’re tight, too tight, as he feeds you another inch. Even with his arousal mixing with yours and dripping back down his cock, it hurts. Your skin burns, heart hammering in your chest as you lift your wrists and grip onto the metal chains of your restraints.
Still, there’s no denying it.
‘Fuck.’ Sero feeds you another inch and squeezes shut his eyes. It’s too much. The feel of you, warm and wet, is enough to make him falter. For a moment he forgets. He forgets about the man in the corner - his cock hard in his jeans. He forgets about the gun. He forgets about everything that isn’t you. His hips jerk, stomach muscles twitching excitedly as he struggles to rein himself in. The blood in his veins burns, threatening to set his whole being alight.
‘How’s she feel?’
Sero answers. His throat cracks, his words coming out garbled as pleasure leaks over his tongue and fights for acknowledgement. ‘Feels… Fuck, she feels so good. So, fucking wet.’
‘Wet, huh?’ A chuckle rocks through the room. ‘How else?’
‘She’s…’ Sero moans as he feeds you the last inch of him. Once bottomed out, he relaxes, his rib cage filling once more as he tries to haul in a full breath and fails. ‘Tight.’
‘Yeah? How tight?’
‘So fucking tight. So fucking -.’ Dipping his head, Sero locks eyes with you, mouthing a silent ‘You okay?’ as he struggles to contain himself.
You nod with your eyes half-shut. Each shallow thrust has you feeling him in your lungs. He rocks forward slowly, pressing himself firmly inside of you before withdrawing - only to repeat the gesture again. It takes your breath and makes you wriggle, hips pulling back to stop the fullness as he seems to fill you more and more. The roll of his piercing has you lost, a sea of ecstasy just waiting for you to drown in it. ‘I -.’ You try to speak, but the words don’t come. Instead they transform, leaving you in the form of a pretty moan that makes both men groan back an answer.
From around Sero’s lithe frame you catch glimpses of Riot. He’s relaxed, his broad shoulders sloping as he lifts a hand to grip the plush side of his chest. A moan shakes his throat as a thumb brushes across his nipple, his eyes flickering from Sero’s back to your face as you roll your head back and moan.
It should scare you. He should scare you. But he doesn’t.
A broad palm splays across his chest, slinking down the plain of his stomach until it reaches his pants. Tilting his hips, he yanks back the buckle of his belt and cracks the leather. The top button of his pants follows, popped open with a thumb as he dips in and hisses. His cock is hot and hard in his grip, kicking as soon as it meets the rough skin of his palm. Squeezing, he lets a groan vibrate through his chest. The thrum of adrenaline tickles his veins turning him into a live wire, one that’s likely to become deadly.
Sero continues to abuse your cunt. His thrusts have become sloppy and quick although each shock of his hips still has his cock nailing your g-spot like clockwork. The ache in your stomach has dulled, used to his assault, allowing pleasure to bloom and spread. Wrapping its tendrils around you, you’re dragged closer and closer to an orgasm that is sure to ruin you.
‘You gonna cum on his cock?’ Riot snickers. Removing himself from his underwear, he lets his cock bob against his stomach before taking hold of it again. He’s huge, far larger than Sero, with an upward tilt that makes your mouth water. It bobs there, struggling under its own weight, even with his hand for stability, and pulses when he strokes it with his thumb, spreading pre-cum down his shaft.
You open your mouth to answer, worried about the repercussions silence would bring and choke on a scream.
A weight falls over you. Sero’s arms bracket your shoulders, his spine concave as he loses himself to the feel of your velvet walls. Fear and arousal pool in his gut, creating a concoction deadly enough to make him fall. He’s wired, his entire being focused on pleasing as he ruts desperately into you.
The head of his cock bullies the roof of your cunt, forcing you to feel each pearled metal ball impaled on his shaft. They roll against your walls, making you see static on the insides of your eyelids. Your arms stretch, the muscles in your biceps straining as you thrash against your bonds. The cold bite of the handcuffs marks your skin, couples each of your movements with a starburst of pain that tickles your nerves in a way you’re not sure you hate. It makes you light headed. Around you, the air almost burns - it strokes your skin, licking at the beads of sweat that collect against your curves.
‘I -.’ Sero gasps. The light disorients him as his eyes snap open. So lost in you as he was, the shock of seeing you again almost makes him dizzy.
Below him you gasp. With your eyes locked on his, you’re almost able to forget the mess unfolding around you. Arching your back, you press up into him just as he drives down his hips. Your bodies meet, a harsh coming together that almost has your limbs turning to jelly, but you hold on - if only to feel the rush of him again.
‘I’m gonna.’ Stuttering, Sero’s arms band.
‘Inside.’
Riot’s voice echoes. Closer. Harsher.
You blink. Riot looms over Sero’s back, his cock is still hard, leaking onto the black of his pants and now, it presses to the fat of Sero’s thigh. A broad palm splays across the small of his back, pressing him forward, forcing his hips flush against yours as he leans in close and nips at his ear growling a singular word: ‘Inside.’
Sero spills at the command. You feel it, a rush of warmth before you even have time to protest. Each pulse of his cock brings another thought to the surface leaving no room for complaint. Forced to stay there, you get every drop - feel him fill you until you until his cum begins to leak back out and down his shaft, dripping onto the bed beneath you.
Sero groans, his body shaking as he attempts to come down from his high as reality hits him like a train. ‘I - Fuck, fuck… I’m sorry. I -.’
Riot rolls his eyes. Letting his hand slip up Sero’s back, appreciating the contours of his muscles, he wraps a broad palm around his neck and curls his hand into a fist. He tuts. ‘Well you were a fucking disappointment.’ Using his grip, he launches Sero from the bed and abandons him as he crumbles against the wall.
You scream. Lurching from the bed, you try and fail to rip the handcuffs from your wrists. The metal burns, cuts deep and dampens your struggle leaving you panting and vulnerable on the bed.
Riot closer, his cock bent under its own weight and weeping against his thigh as he lifts it to keel on the bed.
Against the wall, Sero feels his head spin. There’s pain radiating down his spine and spanning his shoulders, making each of his nerves scream as he tries to scramble to his feet. He can see you, chained and helpless, the insides of your thighs still shining with his spend as you lift a leg to kick Riot in the shoulder. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t even slow him, instead, he bares down on top of you to close the gap. Scrambling for purchase on the floor, he fights through the rising bile that threatens to steal his vision and tries to stand. He has to. He needs to get up. He needs to protect you. Needs to…
‘Bakugo.’ The man’s voice is surprisingly sweet when he turns his head and talks to the air, but the smile he offers is anything but.
Arms emerge from the darkness behind Sero and wrap around his shoulders. The grip is steel, the fingers digging into his flesh tight enough to leave reddened indentations on his skin. He struggles, but it’s useless. He’s stuck fast and tight. Twisting, he turns to sight his captor.
Bakugo’s eyes are dull. His ruby iris’ are shadowed and hollow, the echo of the bags hanging under them evident in his gaze. Sallow skin stretches across his cheeks, purple and red in all of the wrong places. The skin of his arms is much the same, although the muscle there betrays any thought of malnourishment. His biceps are thick, his hands strong as they pull, holding Sero to the bars of his cage.
He’s drugged, or something, he has to be.
His lips are shining.
He can smell it. Spiced apple.
Sero struggles.
Bakugo holds on tighter, pressing both himself and Sero closer together.
‘What the fuck - What the fuck.’ Sero glances down, feeling the press of something hard and wet at the small of his back. He hadn’t noticed, of course he hadn’t fucking noticed. Bakugo is naked, his cock hard and dripping behind his bars. He tries to pull away, but he should know better by now. There is no escape. With wide eyes, he looks back to you - panic rising in his throat as he swallows the pride screaming at him to save you.
Riot pauses his assault on you, thick arms holding him up as he hovers above you - a silent threat. He cocks his head, noticing Sero’s blown eyes and slack jaw. ‘Oh, there’s more where he came from.’ Clicking his fingers, he summons movement in the room.
From the bars of the cages, more arms appear. Another three men step forward with hollow eyes and hard cocks.
One wears a sleepy grin, his purple hair tousled and twisting from his scalp. Another has coloured hair, red and white, and the body of an athlete as he leans against the bars and stretches out. The third is blonde. Smaller than the other two, he kneels his cheeks pressed to the bars, eyes drawn to Sero’s, now flaccid, cock.
Behind them, more move. A woman with bubblegum pink hair wraps herself around one of the men, her nipples pebbled. A second appears behind Sero, the smell of her cunt palpable in the room as she smears her wetness across Bakugo’s shoulder.
All of them have shining stained lips.
All of them smell faintly of apples.
‘What the fuck is this?’ Sero yells. His throat is raw, his muscles screaming. ‘What the fuck - How many, are you drugging them?’
Riot laughs. He has no intention of answering. Instead, he licks his lips and tastes fruit. ‘They’re all gonna have their way with you…’
There’s that smile again, the one that makes Sero feel like he’s being held under a guillotine.
‘You can have Bakugo last, he’s not the…’ Tongue at his teeth, he thinks. ‘Gentlest. Best you’re nice and pliant before he has you.’
Sero’s mouth runs dry. He can feel them looking at him, feel their eyes burning into him, dissecting him like meat. Behind him, he feels Bakugo rut into his back, catching the head of his cock against the cleft of his ass. Then, a sticky kiss is pressed to his shoulder. A gift from the girl.
He swallows. Hauls in a breath. Condemns himself.
‘Don’t - don’t hurt her. Do whatever you want to me, but don’t… Don’t hurt her.’
‘Awe!’ You twist, roll on your side and cock your head. ‘You’re so sweet’ There’s a pout pulling at your lip, a break in your wonderfully terrified persona. ‘But you don’t have to worry about me.’
Riot leans over you and wraps a large hand around your jaw. Holding tight, he yanks you into a beautifully bruising kiss that leaves your lip bloody when he pulls away.
You smile, and this time - it’s full of teeth. You lock eyes with Sero, just in time to see the last of the hope drain from them. ‘He was right, you know. I do like it when it hurts, just a little bit.’ You giggle.
Letting the noise ricochet around the room, you reach forward and swipe a small metal fob from Kirishima’s belt loop and press the button at the centre. The screech of metal fills the air, the smell of sickly rotten apple flooding the room as each of the cages opens.
‘Please…’ Sero begs, watching as people slip into the room from the darkness hunger lingering in their dim eyes. Even Riot shifts, bewitched by your siren’s whim. ‘Please, I’ll… I’ll do anything.’
‘Yeah.’ You lick your lips, tasting apple-spice. ‘You’ll do anything for me.’
Okay y'all while i'm working on an Interview with a Vampire style BNHA DabiHawks fic in the background, should I write a oneshot to get back in the groove for:
Feeling astronomically shite abt my first post back here after ages is yet another fucking donation begging one but i fr have no other options rn so….
2 days ago, i woke up sick with a fever and my mom rushing to take my dad to the hospital, only to find out he apparently had a stroke. It wasn't severe, thankfully, but he's still
They're keeping him under observation and doing more tests for the next week, just to reduce his chances of having another one or anything worse, but he's got no use of his left arm and his memory is worse than ever. A month ago, I finally managed to apply for a disability grant and was told it'll still be another full month before i can be approved and therefore start recieving any money from it, but in the meantime, all the pricetags for his treatment and my own which i havent been able to pay off are piling up, not looking good at ALL and he's the only one in the whole household who can work, which he obviously cant do now in his condition.
My main concern rn is really relieving my own debts since it weighs down on the rest of my family bc i cant work either.
The current outstanding bill for my account is 259.45 USD (if i convert everything as accurately as possible) and i've been warned by e-mail and directly by the national hospital's accounting department about paying it off before the disability grant gets approved to avoid the situation getting worse :/
I currently have 8,50 USD in my PayP account rn, but anything would help towards the full goal in the long run.
the blue spirit!! i wanted to play around with his mask a bit, kind of had an idea of what if it was more mechanical and it's mouth could open and close so zuko could breathe out fire/smoke
+ bonus sokka/blue spirit doodles
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