#or else he resigned and everyone is just combining it with everyone else
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Do I even want to know
#about to be told sunak got caught reading dracula daily#or else he resigned and everyone is just combining it with everyone else#uk politics
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Part 1 Here
Prompts combined for Pt. 2 are : Outsider POV, Steve Harrington is an idiot (affectionate), Wayne Finds Out, and Everyone is Queer Because I Said So.
Wayne Munson knows he’s not the best parental figure. He never liked kids. Never wanted kids. And he nearly said no when the social worker called asking if he wanted to take guardianship of his thirteen-year-old nephew. Because surely there was someone better suited. Except then the social worker told him why Eddie had been removed from his father’s care. About the magazines Eddie’s father had found in Eddie’s backpack that preceded him kicking Eddie out. About the fights Eddie had been getting into at school. About the song lyrics his temporary foster had found in his journal. And suddenly Wayne wasn’t so sure there was a better option. He knew there had to be people more equipped to raise a traumatized queer teenager, but there was no guarantee Eddie would end up with one of them. The opposite was far more likely. Wayne knew firsthand that much of the world was unkind to people like them.
In the years that follow, they don’t talk about it. He figured once he’d won the kid’s trust, Eddie would bring it up in his own time. Or maybe Eddie would ask why Wayne spends a weekend in Indy once a month or maybe ask who he’s spending the weekends with. But somehow those conversations never happen and Wayne doesn’t force them.
It’s not until he finds Steve Fucking Harrington keeping vigil at Eddie’s hospital bedside that he thinks maybe he should have pushed the issue sooner.
Because Harrington looks like he’s been through a war. He’s covered in blood and grime; only his arms, washed to his elbows where he’s holding Eddie’s hand, are clean. He’s looking at Eddie with naked emotion. And, perhaps most damning, he’s wearing Eddie’s battle jacket.
When Wayne enters the room, Harrington startles and says, “Hi. I’m Steve Harrington,” like Wayne and everyone else in Hawkins weren’t already aware of that.
“I know who you are. I know who your father is, too.”
“I’d uh, prefer you didn’t hold that against me.”
Wayne makes no promises. “How do you know Eddie?”
“We’re…friends,” Steve says. There’s a continent of things unsaid behind the word.
“And how are you in his room past visiting hours?”
“I bribed the nurse," he admits. “I didn’t want him to be alone.”
“Well. On that, we’re agreed. But I’m here now. And no offense, kid, but you look like you should be in one of these beds yourself.”
“Yeah. I told them once you got here I’d let them stitch me up. It’s not anything life-threatening.” He says this with the resigned intonation of someone who is familiar with the difference.
What the fuck has Eddie gotten himself involved in?
Harrington stands. It’s a slow, painful, movement, and he only lets go of Eddie’s hand at the last possible second. “Can I—I’d like to come back. After. If you don’t mind.”
Wayne considers him. He considers Eddie’s blood-smeared vest on the kid’s shoulders. He realizes, belatedly, that Eddie’s guitar pick necklace is hanging around Harrington’s bruised throat, the rings usually crammed onto Eddie’s fingers lined up on either side of the pick.
“Sure,” he says. “Be nice to have some company. And you can tell me what the hell happened.”
Harington sighs. “Not sure how much I’m allowed to tell. Or how much you’ll believe. But I can try.”
Wayne takes his place holding Eddie’s hand.
He tries to ignore the fact that Harrington stands in the doorway for more than a minute, just looking, before finally slipping into the hall.
He’s back a few hours later, clearly showered, wrapped in gauze, and wearing the preppiest goddamn outfit. Honestly, Wayne can’t fathom how Eddie and Harrington have anything in common. He’s also still wearing the necklace, though. And when he pulls up a chair to sit on the opposite side of Eddie’s bed, he removes the necklace and carefully, downright tenderly, returns the rings to Eddie’s fingers. Wayne notices, almost despite himself, that Harrington isn’t just guessing at the placement, either. He knows. So either he’s intimately familiar with Eddie’s fingers––something that, as impossible as it sounds, is starting to seem more and more likely––or he’s particularly observant. And that kind of observance speaks to its own sort of devotion.
Wayne isn’t excited about either of these options.
He’s trying to figure out how to ask if Steve Fucking Harrington is Eddie’s boyfriend without scaring him away when Eddie shifts, which has Wayne and Steve both jumping to their feet.
“Wayne?” he murmurs. And Wayne isn’t one for emotional displays but he finds himself participating in one for the next few minutes nonetheless.
Once he gets ahold of himself, Eddie’s head turns, slow with painkillers, to see Harrington.
“Stevie,” he says, grinning. “Hey. I’m not dead.”
“Despite your best efforts,” Steve chokes out. His hands are fisted under his armpits and he looks about five seconds away from crying. Not that Wayne can judge since he’s more than five seconds into crying.
“What did I tell you, what did you promise?” Harrington snarls.
Eddie’s grin dims. “Not to be a hero. But Dustin––shit. Dustin. Is he...”
“Fine. Sprained ankle. Pissed as hell at you. Everyone else is fine too. Max is down the hall. She has some broken bones but she’ll be alright.”
“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs. “How did I—“
“We went back for you.”
“We?”
“I,” Harrington grits out. “I went back for you. Thought you were dead. Carried you back anyway. Didn’t realize you were still breathing until we got you in the car. Drove like hell to the hospital.”
And that’s. Well, shit. Apparently, Wayne is going to need to temper his distrust of this particular Harrington. Because it sounds like he saved Eddie’s goddamn life.
“He also refused treatment and waited with you until I got here,” Wayne feels he has to add. “Despite the fact he was bleeding everywhere.”
Eddie glances between them, eyes huge. “Shit. I’m sorry. Hey, no, don’t––”
Steve is crying now, not even trying to hide it, and Eddie holds out a hand, wincing. “Come here, man, I’m fine. Or I’ll probably be fine, right?”
“So says the doctor,” Wayne agrees.
Steve doesn’t need a second invitation.
He all but collapses, carefully, into Eddie’s outstretched arms, and Eddie’s hands bunch into the fabric of Steve’s sweatshirt and he crams his face into Steve’s neck and they’re so––their obvious, desperate, affection for each other is so unapologetic that Wayne has to look away.
It’s not until later, when they’ve hashed out the basics of the insane upside-down phenomenon, that they finally convince Steve to go home and sleep.
He waits ten seconds after the door has closed to exhale, pressing his palms into his eyes.
“Jesus, kid. I knew you had expensive taste with cigarettes and guitars but this? He’s the closest thing to royalty this town has.”
Eddie lets out a hysterical little warble of a laugh. “No. No, no. That’s not—we’re not.”
“What the hell are you then?”
“Friends. Bonded through extreme trauma.”
“But you’d like to be more than friends.”
Eddie looks at him askance “I’ll take what I can get and I won’t ask for more,” he says quietly.
Unfortunately, Wayne is well familiar with that kind of love. He just can’t get Steve’s expression out of his head. The gentle way he’d replaced Eddie’s rings. He doesn’t think Eddie’s interest is as one-sided as Eddie does. But he doesn’t want to meddle. He’s certain they’ll figure themselves out.
Two months later, Wayne is starting to think they’re both idiots. Because half the time when he gets home from his evening bar shift––a new job after the plant disappeared into the fiery abyss––Steve’s BMW is parked down the street and when he cracks Eddie’s bedroom door he finds them cuddled up, asleep. Sometimes he’ll go to rent a movie and Steve will be wearing a shirt that Wayne knows is Eddie’s and half the time when he wakes Eddie up in the mornings he’s wearing a pastel sweater monogrammed with initials that don’t belong to Eddie. He’d think they’re together and keeping it quiet if not for the fact that Eddie is driving him absolutely insane with pining. He’s written three songs about longing and heartbreak in the last two weeks and if Wayne has to listen to one more wailing ballad he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.
He’s walking back from the bar after closing, only a mile from the new fancy trailer the government had installed for them when he passes Harrington’s conspicuous vehicle a few houses down. He sighs. The boy really has no sense of subtly.
He’s expecting to find them, as usual, asleep in a tangle of limbs, except when he reaches the porch stairs, he can hear the boys talking.
He pauses with his hand on the railing.
“What are you doing,” Eddie murmurs, voice just carrying from the open living room window.
“Well. I’d like to kiss you, if you’d let me.”
About damn time, Wayne thinks.
“Steve, wait,” Eddie says. And it’s so quiet, so uncertain, that Wayne is tempted to open the door right then if only to prevent Ed from sounding so broken.
“I can’t be a practice run for you,” Eddie says, “Please. I can’t. I wouldn’t survive that.”
“A––what the fuck, Eddie.”
“It’s just, I know this is new to you and I’m, obviously, all about exploration and, um, finding yourself. Congratulations. Yay. But I can’t be an experiment. Not with you. I can’t.”
“You’re not an experiment,” Harrington says, voice a little louder than Wayne would prefer, given the circumstances. The trailer park isn’t exactly spacious. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I want to kiss you because I’m in love with you, how could you think—besides. This isn’t that new. I’ve kissed other guys.”
“You’ve what? Who? When?”
“Just. You know. Friends messing around. I didn’t know that made me bisexual until I talked about it with Robin but apparently, I’ve been kinda gay this whole time.”
“I’m sorry. You thought making out with your basketball buddies was…a standard heterosexual pastime?”
“Well, when you say it like that.”
“What other way is there to say it?”
“Okay,” Steve says, “I already had this conversation with Robin this morning. I don’t need to rehash it again. So I’m a little bit of an idiot. Memo received.”
“Jesus, Harrington. You just found out bisexuality was a thing this morning and now you’re here, what, asking me to be your boyfriend?”
“I mean, yeah. Ideally.”
“You don’t do anything by halves, do you.” Eddie sounds disgustingly fond.
“Eddie. I just said I love you.”
“You did,” Eddie says, high and cracked. “You did say that.”
“So if we could refocus.”
“Right.”
“I don’t expect you to say it back, but––”
“God, you really are an idiot. Of course I fucking love you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And then that’s––well, that’s probably his nephew getting his first kiss from Steve Fucking Harrington.
Wayne decides to give them to a count of thirty before interrupting, but just as he’s about to stomp his way up the stairs, Eddie says, “Sorry, sorry, I’ve never done this before.”
“Hey, no. It’s ok. Neither have I, really. But you’re crazy if you think I’m going to fuck you right now,” Steve says.
“I meant kissing. Hold on, does that mean you would be willing to fuck me later?”
Wayne winces. There are things he does not need to hear come out of his nephew’s mouth.
“Wait,” Steve interrupts, “You’ve never been kissed before? How is that possible?”
“Who would have kissed me?” Eddie hisses, “ I’m the town pariah. And until I met Robin I didn’t know any other queer people existed in Hawkins. Though apparently, I should have just joined the basketball team since you’re having orgies or whatever.”
“The first two were on the swim team,” Steve says.
“First two. How many were there?”
Steve ignores him. “And that wasn’t––you’re so hot, though. And your band has played in bigger cities. Haven’t you ever gone up to Indy to any of the bars there?”
“I need you to understand,” Eddie says, “that I am 90% bravado and 100% anxiety.”
“That’s not how percentages work.”
“Steve.”
“Sorry. Okay. Well, if this is your first kiss then I better make it good, huh?”
“Yes. That is absolutely the burden placed upon your capable shoulders should you choose to––oh.”
Eddie stops talking and doesn’t start again, though he does make a breathy little noise that Wayne takes as his cue.
He stomps up the stairs as loudly as possible, fumbling longer than necessary with the door handle, and pushes his way inside.
The boys are both shirtless, clearly in the process of shoving themselves away from each other. Eddie’s face is pink and his lips are kiss-swollen and Harrington’s back has a set of welted scratches on it that Wayne imagines are a perfect match for Eddie’s fingers.
“Well, shit,” Wayne says. He definitely should have opened the door sooner.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Eddie says.
“What the fuck else what it be?” Steve says, only sounding a little hysterical.
Except then the kid is pushing Eddie behind him and squaring up to Wayne with his jaw clenched and his head high, the discolored ring around his neck, still not yet healed, the scars down his belly, on display. Wayne is well-acquainted with the nuance of a man posturing versus a man who would gladly throw himself into a fight, even one he’s not certain he’d win. Steve Harrington is indisputably the latter.
Wayne can’t decide if he’s offended or endeared.
“Stand down, kid, I’m not going to hurt him.”
“I wouldn’t let you.”
“That is…extremely apparent.”
“Steve,” Eddie says. “It’s ok. He knows. Or. We’ve never really talked about it but.” He meets Wayne’s eyes. “He knows. It’s ok.”
Eddie pushes around him, stepping into Wayne’s open arms.
Steve watches distrustfully as Wayne wraps Eddie in a hug.
“You’re both safe here,” he says. Mostly to Steve, since he’s the one who needs to hear it. “And I’ll call up my boyfriend in Indy and have him vouch for me if you don’t believe me.”
Harrington’s expression is just as magnificent as Wayne hoped it would be.
“Your what?” Eddie shrieks.
Part 3 Here.
On AO3 Here.
Tempted to do one more from one of the kid's POVs when the kids find out. Thoughts?
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Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH38
Rip to these promising mages. I assume they will not survive this massacre.
IS that where her lungs and kidneys are? Because like. She's huge. Her entire body is behind her. Do you really think she'd keep her vital organs in the little human bulb on the front?
I mean, he has a point. What are you going to do? Fight off more hoardes of dragons?
oh noooo, Kabru.... too bad. That's so unfortunate.... anyway.
It's curious that Laios only got knocked away. He was just as likely to have had his head squished like a grape.
Guys, this is absolutely not the time to be concerned for her privacy.
Yes, queen. Free the tiddy. Murder everyone in this dungeon. I support women's rights and women's wrongs.
.......that's. One way to do that. I guess.
.......what's that rock about.
Oh, I see. That's convenient.
This guy dungeons! Maybe he even dragons.
So we got north (tallmen? dwarves?) and then the easterners.... and now the elves of the west?
He's going to give her to the Americans?! ಠ_ಠ
To be fair, at least they HAD a plan. And they executed it. It's more than you did. I don't mean to point fingers but... at least they... ya know... did something.
Kabru's like 'no, no, hang on, I need to hear what batshit fucked up thing this dude is going to say next, this is important'
Laios is so stressed he broke character.
Then again, maybe it's healthy to let them slug it out a bit. Get it out of their system.
It's true. They wore fitbits and everything.
...hey, hold on a second.
Now hold on a minute.
Damn, this is. Kind of even worse because. I guess I could have guessed that Toshi was just pretending to be polite, like you do. Cultural differences.
But the painful thing is, Laios doesn't seem surprised. He just seems resigned. He's been told before that he's difficult to get along with. To the extent that he doesn't even consider Marcille and Chillchuck his friends? Even though they arguably both care about him? But because Toshiro didn't bother to be deadpan about him being a bit odd at times, Laios thought it meant that was fine.
And that kinda hurts. Like damn. Laios just wanted to make a true connection. And I can't really blame Toshiro either, he was just trying to keep the peace but. Damn.
Free her! Let her do her illegal magics! She deserves it! （︶^︶）
Thoughts:
Senshi just being annoyed about that one last harpy looking for scraps.... like "shoo, this ain't the time"
That gnome seems genuinely nice. I'm sorry Falin squished his pet undyne.
Kabru hugging his..... mage? Girlfriend???? Seems very...one sided. Kinda feel bad for her.
Laios and Toshiro still going at it, I see. Get it allout, boys.
Uhhhhhhhhhh ninja girls.
Aww, doggo.
Last question: Where did the cat go?
Senshi: I can fix that.
Are you all worried because he's finally making sense?!?!
Laios and he punched their singular braincells into several new ones, it seems.
F./....Falin... please give the caterpillar some privacy........
My man, maybe lead with that............
I can't believe Marcille was potentially more forward about her feelings.......
"his pupils are dilated" yes, thank you sherlock. You've finally realized what everyone else who meets Laios feels almost immediately. he's a monster freak club card carrying member. Welcome.
p.....pubby......
As long as he was also inside the dungeon with them.... yes.
The issue with Kabru isn't that he isn't trying his best. It's that Laios isn't trying at all.
On a scale of one to Kabru, how badly do you react to being offered a food you don't want to eat?
......oh no. He's so pathetic it's funny. He's growing on me.
Absolute morons, the pair of them. Immovable object meets unstoppable force. The funniest combination ever. Ghost type and normal type pokemon, forever throwing moves at each other that will never hit. Laios thinking he's made a friend. Kabru just barely stopping himself from killing Laios. Best comedy pair. Tom and Jerry in a can.
Anyway. What a great manga.
#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi quick reacts#chekhov reads dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi liveblog#delicious in dungeon
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Heart-stopping
Alejandro Vargas x f!reader
Warnings: tiny bit of angst, mention of violence, description of injuries, otherwise pure fluff, pregnancy announcement, crack?
Summary: Only Alejandro can kill Alejandro. You may easily give him a heart attack, though.
On AO3
A/N: Sorry, this is not my triumphant comeback. I had to get this out of my system so I can continue my work. I hope to be able to write more soon though!
~•~•~•~•~•~
Only Alejandro can kill Alejandro.
The proverb was often repeated among his peers and subordinates with a mix of awe and reverence, and by his rivals and enemies with spiteful resignation.
You, however, repeated it as a mantra - or a prayer? - in your head whenever his chest rose and fell with every breath. Just like you had for a week now.
Just an hour earlier, the nurse had come with orders from the doctor to pull him off the meds keeping him asleep, and you anxiously wrung your hands together, waiting for any signal of your beloved Alejandro awakening.
When he finally shifted and gave signals of waking up, you released a shaky breath you weren't even aware of holding. His name fell from your lips in a whisper, and his eyes flew open as if a spell had been broken at the sound.
As soon as his eyes found yours, his lips flickered a smile, revealing the dimples that created ripples on his cheeks like the ocean.
"Buenos días, mi amor," he breathed out, his voice rugged and raspy from a combination of sleep and a dry throat.
"Es medianoche, pendejo," you offered him a wide grin, carefully approaching him and cupping his face, pressing your lips to his with the urgency that it warranted.
After the longest week of your life, your lover was finally awake.
A few seconds later, you pulled away and inwardly celebrated the little dispeased noise he made when trying to chase your lips. You offered him a glass of water instead, and he accepted it silently, taking slow sips until his parched throat didn't resemble a desert anymore.
Once he was satisfied, you took the glass back and cupped his face, your fingers stroking the growing stubble and brushing against the bandage covering his head.
"Are you hurting anywhere?" Your voice was quiet as you studied him carefully, looking for any hint of pain.
"I feel pretty numb all over," he groaned, nuzzling your hand like a sleepy cat, "I'm mostly confused as to why I'm here."
Your brows furrowed as you remembered the doctor had warned you about amnesia, and took you a few moments to finally gather your words.
"We were under heavy fire from the cartel while crossing the bridge," your hand slowly moved from his face to his chest, feeling the bandages under the hospital gown, "they got you between your chest plates, and the impact made you lose your balance."
You paused to take in a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay while you relived those memories. He watched you closely, his smile slowly falling at the signs of your distress.
"Oviedo jumped after you into the river, but you hit your head at the bottom real hard," you watched as his brows tightened and his fingers enveloped your wrist and his thumb traced your pulse, a silent apology of sorts. But Alejandro rarely ever apologized - or did anything else - silently.
"Lo siento mucho, mi amor," he offered, his heart breaking a little at the sight of the unshed tears pooling in your eyes, "I've made you worry for me again, didn't I?"
A sharp snort left you as you used your free hand to wipe the tears away. "I was worried sick, Alejo, and everyone else too," you briefly thought of Rudy, now in charge of the Vaqueros for the time being, and them too, who often texted you and called you for updates. "You were put in a coma for a week because your brain swelled up."
His eyes widened at the information, his fingers tightening around your wrist slightly. "Verga... That does sound pretty bad..."
You took a deep breathe in to compose yourself, and nodded as you leaned down to press your forehead to his bandaged head, enjoying the gentle warmth sipping from beneath them. "Doctor said you'll be out of commission for a while, until he's sure there's no lasting damage."
Alejandro suppressed a groan and a complaint at the news. He was a soldier commited to his cause, but he was also a realistic man. If he was in no shape to guide his men, he wouldn't dare put them in unnecessary danger. The quickest way to return to his duties would be to heal.
Only Alejandro can kill Alejandro.
The toughest man in the army.
Still, very much a man that can be brought down by bullets one day.
"What about you, mi amor?" He questioned you as he tenerly brushed your cheek with his fingers, eager to focus on something else. He noted the bags under your eyes, and let his eyes wander over your form. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
You kept in silence for a few seconds as you stared into his eyes, but moved to bury your face in his neck instead, immediately raising all the alarms in his mind. "... I'll be out of commission for a while, too."
His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, slowly stroking your scalp, "what happened, mi vida? Did they get you too?"
You enjoyed his touch with a secret smile in your lips. Even after all he endured, he cared so much about your well-being that it made your heart swell. It also made you feel just a tiny bit bad about what -or rather the way - you were going to tell him. But you wanted revenge for all those sleepless nights spent worried sick over him "...you did."
Alejandro blinked once before forcing your head off his shoulder so he could look straight at your face. His eyes searched yours in a raising panic as he registered your words.
He had no memory of the incident itself. Had you been close to him when he was shot? Had he hit you in the confusion after getting hit himself? He would never live it down. Even taking into account that in both your careers injuries were common place, he would never forgive himself if he had been the direct cause of any injury on you.
The warning bell from the machine registering his palpitations went off, signaling a worringly increase in his heartbeat, causing you to shake yourself from your trance to look at it.
Oh.
Oops.
"Alejo, tranquilo," you offered him an apologetic smile, laying your hand flat on his chest and rubbing it, "I'm sorry, I was just joking - kinda."
He blinked at you in confusion, his brows furrowing deeply as he looked at you as if you were insane.
"Esos chistes no son graciosos, amor," he scolded you, and you leaned in to kiss him sorry, but he pulled away with a petulant pout, "casi me da un infarto. I didn't know you were the kind of woman to make that kind of jokes."
You chuckled softly and pulled away, reaching into a paper envelope you had left earlier on the bedside table "Bueno, pero si me diste, Alejo," you smirked at him playfully, handing him the square picture, "you got me good."
He glared at you for a little longer before taking the picture, examining it. It had your name on one of the upper corners, and a circle zeroing on a tiny protuberance. "Y esto?"
"The reason I'll be out of commission, mi amor," you smiled at him warmly, "or should I call you papi? I mean, you should start getting used to it."
Alejandro's eyes shot up to meet yours again, this time wide as plates as your words sunk in. "...when did you...?"
"Doctor confirmed it two days ago," you stroked his cheek, watching him closely for any reaction. You hadn't actively talked about forming a family before, other than in a hypothetical future. So, you were still quite unsure whether or not he would take the news in stride or not.
You were rewarded with a wide grin that nearly parted his face in two, and his free hand moving to your body, tenderly landing on your belly. You reciprocrated with your own grin, your eyes flooding with fresh tears, this time out of pure happiness.
"Voy a ser papá?," he wanted to confirm, and you didn't wait to nod your head eagerly, leaning closer to him again until you were in range of a thousand of small kisses he spread over your face before pulling you in for a long kiss.
Only to be interrupted by the machine again, its alarm announcing his rising heartbeat and causing you to inch back from the kiss in a giggle.
"Alejo, tranquilo!"
~•~•~•~•~•~
BONUS:
"Soy tan feliz, mi amor," he mumbled in your temple, his lips brushing your skin. After the doctor had finally seen him after waking up, he spent a whole half a second trying to convince you to join him on the bed. He pulled you closer to him, enjoying your warmth and your closeness.
"I'm so elated," you hummed into his chest, before letting out a soft sigh, "I'm just not looking forward to your mamá berating us for getting pregnant before marriage."
"... Ay, pinche verga, cierto." He whispered in horror, the machine beeping loudly again at the thought of his very catholic mother reacting to the news.
"Alejo, cálmate!"
#alejandro vargas#alejandro vargas x reader#alejandro vargas x f!reader#alejandro x reader#f!reader#fem!reader#alejandro vargas fluff#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod mw2 x reader#cod mw2 x f!reader
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A/N: Rosie/OC… literally couldn’t resist. I was torn between this OC and a Red Cross OC from the flak house, but I think I wanted someone who would see him during all the hard parts, not just for a week when he’s Suffering. Spoilers for eps 5 and 6 of MoTA.
one - adjustment period.
Grace watches warily as the crew approaches on the jeep - she’s not sure what she expected… for them to be jubilant and laughing, looking refreshed and ready for action? Nervous, scared, resigned… some combination of the two?
Her eyes land on Rosie, as they’re prone to do. He seems calm. That’s not a surprise, but the glimpse of something — fear? hesitation? — in his eyes is.
Helen, standing on her left, shifts her weight, her posture the picture of worry and sadness.
“Try to pull yourself upright,” Grace says quietly.
"I'm trying--" Helen says, her voice dull. To her credit, she flashes a smile as the guys get closer, her frown softening.
"Ladies," Rosie says, fingers on the brim of his hat. "What's the welcome wagon for?"
"Coffee." Helen says, "Just brewed."
He smiles thankfully at her, but his eyes go back to Grace's. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, Lieutenant Fleming--"
"Bearer of semi-bad news, I'm afraid." Grace says, ignoring the way her heart picks up a little at his half smile. She rushes to finish before she can see his face transform - he can't afford any more bad news. "Doc wants to see everyone, just a quick chat. After that there's food in the mess."
He nods. "What's one more doctor?" He mutters. She suspects she wasn't supposed to hear that. Then, louder, "You heard her, gents. Doctor's orders."
They grumble a little, but head into the infirmary behind Grace and Helen, taking a cup of coffee each as they go. Helen follows behind, empty tray tucked under her arm. She looks back at Grace, but Rosie is lingering behind, twisting the brim of his cap in his hands, and Grace can't bring herself to leave him out here alone.
She waves Helen on, telling her she'll catch up in a minute.
“Captain?”
He starts, like he forgot she was there. He also looks like he’s forgotten about his promotion. And that’s the thing with flying — a promotion isn’t always wanted. Deserved, certainly. But it often comes at the expense of other pilots, and it’s always a tough pill to swallow. “How’s it been? How’s— everyone?” He asks her. His face is so earnest. It makes her throat tight.
“As well as we can be, Captain. Most of the replacements are here.” She hesitates before continuing. She’s been here right along, with the Red Cross girls and the doctor and the other nurses. But just because she’s been here as long as everyone else doesn’t mean she understands what the flight crews have gone through. “How was your week off?”
“Too long.” He says, no hesitation. His smile is small, wry, a barely-there upturn of his lips. “I wanted to get back.”
“And you’re alright?” The question comes out almost without her permission. They don’t even know each other that well - she’s patched up a few of his scrapes and bruises and they’ve made idle conversation as he checked on some of his crew that ended up in the infirmary, but this is bordering on too casual.
But she’d argued with him, the day before he went on leave. She’d been too casual then, too, and so had he, both of them lost in the emotions of the Munster mission.
It feels a little awkward now, but she does her best to press on.
She can’t help but worry about him. She admires him, at the heart of it. The way he kept his men together through it all, the way he always has a kind word and a joke for anyone who needs it.
She just hopes he’d say so if he’s the one who needs it, this time.
“I’m as good as I can be, Lieutenant.” He replies.
“Grace.” She reminds him softly. “It’s— you don’t have to call me Lieutenant.”
“Grace, then.” He echos. “I’m okay. Have to be. For them.”
“I hope—“ she pauses, looking down at her shoes. “Forgive me sir, but I hope you know that we’re all here for you. What you went through—“
“I know.” He interrupts her, not unkindly. “You think we haven’t seen the way you’ve been there for us? Even when you thought we didn’t notice?” He shakes his head. “You write our letters when our hands shake, and get us extra blankets, and tell us it’s going to be okay when it’s—��� He stops himself, shaking his head.
When his eyes meet hers, they’re so soft she can barely stand it. This is dangerous, what this conversation is turning into, but she’s also relieved to hear that what she’s been doing besides being a nurse and keeping them alive has made a difference.
“I appreciate it more than I can put into words, Grace.” His voice is rough.
There’s a long moment of prolonged eye contact. Her senses are screaming, danger, danger! But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t look away.
“You just keep yourself and those boys alive, Captain.” She says, her voice thick. “For the rest of us.”
He salutes, a jaunty thing that lightens the mood. “Yes ma’am.”
She laughs, and he grins at her in response. “Go on, you have to meet with the Doctor too. Just standard procedure.”
He hums. “Heard a lot of that the last week.” He takes a few steps away and then stops, “Grace?” His face is suddenly boyish, shy. “You’d better call me Rosie. Or at least by my first name.”
It feels right — she’s given up calling anyone else by their rank anymore. They’ve been through too much for that. The new guys will be an adjustment - she’s not sure she can manage getting attached to any of them. Because it’s inevitable, what happens after.
But the line has already been crossed with this man, looking at her in the fading sunlight.
“You got it, Rosie.”
His answering smile stays with her until the next day, long after the roar of B-17s fades into the distance.
#rosie rosenthal x oc#masters of the air fic#mota fanfiction#i am…. going crazy???!#he’s got a hold on me guys it can’t be ignored anymore#please welcome grace fleming#softspeirs mota fanfiction#oc: grace fleming
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In honor of the 2023 TFATWS Anniversary Event, below is a list of AU SamBucky fic recs for your enjoyment!
you're my river running high (run deep, run wild) by notcaycepollard
M | 9.9k | nwa | shapeshifter AU
The third day after SHIELD falls, Sam finds a crow with a broken wing on his doorstep.
What My Hands And Body Done by Fool_for_love
NR | 10.3k | ccntw | soulmates AU
Bucky had resigned himself to a life without a soulmate. After Steve, he didn’t really want another one. Even though Steve had moved on with Peggy, Bucky didn’t see himself doing the same.
After all, if the damage done by Hydra had been enough to scare off Steve, make their soulmarks fade, how the hell was someone else supposed to accept him? Who would even want to?
The universe seemed to think Sam might want to. Bucky disagreed. He and Sam tolerated each other. Sam was funny, sure, loyal, definitely, attractive, no doubt. But none of that screamed soulmate... right?
Ye Cannae Change The Laws Of Attraction by velvetjinx
E | 3.9k | nwa | star trek AU
There's a lot of friction--in more ways than one--between First Officer Bucky Barnes and Chief Science Officer Sam Wilson of the USS Avenger. But in space, things can change in a heartbeat.
we're awesome, totally genius by napricot
T | 3.9k | nwa | meet-cute, no powers AU
At this point, Sam’s scanning the coffeeshop for an exit strategy from this terrible date; maybe he can trip a customer into spilling coffee on one of them, or pretend like he’s seen a friend, something, anything. His eye lands on the white guy sitting at the table behind Mike, directly in Sam’s line of sight, but not visible to Mike himself. And okay, hello, stranger. He’s gorgeous, and he’s looking up from the stack of papers on his table, right at Sam. Hot Stranger’s thick-lashed blue eyes are wide, and a pen is dangling from his fingers as if the nonsense happening at Sam’s table has shocked him into interrupting his work.
What the fuck, mouths Hot Stranger.
Sam's on a first date that starts weird and only gets weirder. Thankfully, there's a hot bystander who's ready to be a hero and save Sam from the horrors of app-based dating.
A Chance by Siancore
E | 20.8k | ccntw | social media AU
Bucky Barnes is a Fuckboy. He exhibits Fuckboy Behavior. Everyone knows it. Especially his best friend, Steve Rogers. Then, one day, he sees one of Steve's social media post with a gorgeous guy named Sam Wilson. Steve's friend is hot and Bucky's interested, but the dude is still Steve's friend. Can Bucky quit his Fuckboy ways to have chance with Sam? Dad Friend Steve doesn’t think it’s such a good idea that they hook up because he doesn’t think Bucky can or wants to change, and more importantly, Steve doesn’t want to see Sam get hurt. Can Bucky change his ways and prove Steve wrong or is the whole thing a disaster waiting to happen?
Not Like I'm Counting the Days by yammz
E | 13.9k | nwa | civilian!bucky/cap!sam AU
Sam takes a deep breath, then nods, and Bucky feels like he just stumbled upon the combination for a lock that he hadn’t known was there. Sam nods as though he’s making the decision right then and there that this is happening, that they’re actually going to hook up instead of just talking about it. Maybe he is actually making that decision right then. He looks Bucky in the eyes. “Tomorrow, I’m being named Captain America.”
(The one where Bucky starts casually dating Captain America)
Sports AU by funsized-loser
M | 1.1k | baseball AU
Bottom of the 8th inning, runners on 2nd and 3rd with 2 outs; the Avengers have a 1-0 lead over the Hydras
The Valk’bhòid by eden22
E | 20.2k | nwa | medieval AU
Uneasy is the head that wears a crown.
The First Gentleman by glittercake
M | 55.7k | gdv | first gentleman!sam/bodyguard!bucky AU
Sam knew what he was signing up for when he married a senator running for Office. He knew what Riley’s job demanded. He knew the hours, the stress, the milling, and the perpetual buzz. Living his life constantly surrounded by everything, by an entire nation.
But he had always dreamed of a quiet life. A place in the country with the man he loves, acres of greenery and trees, and flowers around them. A long winding road they could drive down on a warm Sunday afternoon. A big old farmhouse with a wraparound porch and a French kitchen. Some horses and a stable, and a little creek covered with a blanket of mist in the mornings.
He gets what he wants in the most horrible of ways.
Any Port in a Storm by swiftrax (wildtrak) for GodsDoggy
E | 9.4k | nwa | abo AU
Sam is the first to admit that he and Bucky have got issues. It would be fine if they could just ignore each others' existence and didn't keep getting paired up on missions... but the universe (and Steve Rogers) isn't going to let them off the hook that easy. Being an Avenger means sucking it up and pretending they can both be professionals to get the job done.
When a mission goes awry in the middle of the ocean, Bucky and Sam are forced to take shelter in a remote lighthouse as a storm rolls in.
Can they survive each other long enough to be rescued, or will their interpersonal friction come to a head...
there's a war inside of me by CapnWinghead
T | 5.5k | nwa | multiverse AU
When a portal drops another version of Bucky Barnes into their universe, Sam's adamant about helping her. Bucky's a lot less welcoming.
The Way Out Is Through by samwontshare (Attaining)
E | 12k | gdv | zombie apocalypse AU
Sam and Bucky's love story in Wakanda is interrupted when Sam contracts a virus that makes him crave human flesh. Bucky will do anything to keep him safe. And fed.
Instead of The Blip, Thanos' minions brought the zombie apocalypse.
more TFATWS anniversary themed fic rec lists to come!
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Charisma House - Superhuman Sharehouse Story “Charisma” - #86 Libido
Please read alongside listening to the drama track on Youtube.
Let me know if I missed something!
TL note:
The fellas are playing yakyuuken, basically a game based on rock paper scissors where the loser strips. The song that goes along with it is normally baseball-themed. Yoyoinoyoi remains untranslated, see it as some kind of “chant” or "sound" like la la la.
Uchiwa is a type of Japanese fan. It's common for wotaku/idol stans/etc to make custom-made uchiwas with faces of their fave idol, or some supportive message about their oshi on it.
(The five of them getting ready)
Amahiko: ….Everyone? What are you all planning to do here?
Fumiya: Rehearsal for the Sexy World Cup
Amahiko: Huh?
Ohse: We’ve been practicing till the brink of death.
Sarukawa: Sorry but we’re gon’ bag that victory. We ain’t losing to the likes of you, Amahiko!
Iori: Resign to your fate!
Amahiko: No, before that, I fail to understand the meaning behind everyone joining. I won’t be going.
Iori: “Won’t”…! You still have it in you to say such things, Amahiko-san!
Terra: Come back to your senses! You will participate in the Sexy World Cup!
Fumiya: We’ll definitely convince you. We’re serious, Amahiko.
Fumiya: Witness, all of our power combined, the greatest sexy show of all time.
Amahiko: …!
Fumiya: ‘Kay, let’s roll
(Sound of spotlight)
Amahiko: Eh?
(Music starts playing) 〜♪
The five of them: If you wanna be sexy You gotta shake it like this~♪
The five of them: Butt! Nipples! Yoyoinoyoi!
The five of them: Yoyoinoyoi!
Iori: Ohse-san looost!
(The other 4 hollering)
Ohse: ….! ….!
(Ohse gets naked)
Sarukawa, Fumiya, Iori, Terra: Sexyyyy! Wheeeh! Ain’t this nice!
〜♪
The five of them: If you wanna be sexy You gotta shake it like this~♪
The five of them: Butt! Nipples! Yoyoinoyoi!
The five of them: Yoyoinoyoi!
The five of them: Yoyoinoyoi!
The five of them: Yoyoinoyoi!
Sarukawa, Terra, Ohse: Woahoh…! You lost…!
(The three of them hollering)
Fumiya: Shit… I’ll kill you….!
Iori: Shit… I don’t hate it…!
(Fumiya and Iori getting naked)
Sarukawa, Terra, Ohse: Sexy!!!!! Yaaay!
Terra: We’re so winning with this!
Sarukawa: How ‘bout it, Amahiko!
〜♪
The five of them: If you wanna be sexy You gotta shake it like this~♪
The five of them: Butt! Nipples…
Amahiko: What is this? In someone else's house nonetheless.
Amahiko: Also that’s not what being sexy is. Is this mockery?
The five of them: No!
Sarukawa: You got that wrong, Amahiko
Iori: We took everything into serious consideration.
Terra: And then it came to us! Yakyuuken!
Amahiko: What, that’s how you got there.
Ohse: I-it’s more than just that…
Amahiko: Either way, I am not participating in the Sexy World Cup anymore.
Amahiko: It's futile. You can't change my mind.
The five of them: ….
Rikai: One moment Sensei!
Amahiko: !?
(Rikai popping up out of nowhere)
Amahiko: Rikai-san…!? That outfit…!
Rikai: Behold the bravery of your top disciple.
Amahiko: Eh?
〜♪
Amahiko: This is… ballet…
Fumiya: Rikai…
Ohse: Rikai-san…
Iori: Rikai-kun…
(Rikai eagerly dancing and being awful at it)
Rikai: Hah! Hoh! ..Hah, hah! Oho hwowo h oh wow
The five of them: Awful.
(Rikai getting flustered as he dances)
The five of them: Aaah, aaah, aaah… Rikai-kun? This is cringe to watch…
Rikai: Yaaah…! Haaah! Juuuump!
(Rikai twists his leg)
Rikai: AAAAAAAAA!
Amahiko: Rikai-san!? Are you okay!?
Rikai: Damn it…! I cannot…!
Rikai: I am not destined to be sexy, Minister of Sexy Affairs…!
Amahiko: !?
Ohse: He’s right. It’s pointless for people like us.
Fumiya: We can struggle all we like, it won’t change that we can’t create sexiness like you.
Iori: You are a different being than us!
Terra: That’s why!
Sarukawa: You have to show us the ropes!
The six of them: World Sexy Ambassador!
Amahiko: …! You guys….!
Amahiko’s mother: Amahiko…
Amahiko: Mother!
Amahiko’s mother: Take this with you to the competition.
Amahiko: What’s this…?
Amahiko’s mother: A new costume for you to wear at the cup.
(Amahiko snorts out of shock)
Amahiko’s mother: Everyone made it together. Terra-san was in charge of design.
Amahiko’s mother: Minato-san and Motohashi-san tailored it.
Terra, Ohse, Iori: Eehehe☆
Amahiko: Aaah…! …!
(Amahiko falls to his knees)
Rikai: Sensei, it’s your moment.
Terra: Ladies
Fumiya: And gentlemen
Sarukawa, Iori, Ohse: It’s showtime!
Amahiko: I… I lost, everyone…. To think there’s such sexiness….
Amahiko: Your nomination has been accepted.
Amahiko: This very Amahiko shall enter and dominate the Sexy World Cup!
Everyone: WOOOO! YAAAY! FINALLY!
Fumiya: Well, isn’t this nice, ma’am.
Amahiko’s mother: Thank you
Everyone: Hahahahahaha! Hahahahahaha!
(Sound of sliding screen being kicked down)
Amahiko’s father: What are you bastards doing----!!
Amahiko’s mother: Dear…
Amahiko: Father…
Amahiko’s father: What have you filth been talking about! Seriously what's this all about!
Amahiko’s father: Nothing made sense! The whole time!
Amahiko’s father: It’s nothing but nonsense! Stop screwing around you lot----!
Amahiko’s father: …..
Amahiko’s father: ……Amahiko, how much of a nuisance must you be to our family until you're satisfied.
Amahiko’s father: What a deplorable display.
Amahiko’s father: Not to mention this worthless filth you’re with, have some shame!
Amahiko’s mother: Uugh…!
Amahiko: Mother!
Amahiko: I understand, so please don’t shout anymore.
Amahiko: I won’t participate in the Sexy World Cup.
The six of them: EEEH!?
Terra: No way, Amahiko
Iori: Don’t listen
Fumiya: Ignore him
Ohse: Don’t give in
Sarukawa: Amahiko!
Rikai: Sensei!
Nakagami: He won’t…!? He can’t back out now…!
Nakagami: I even got my uchiwas ready…!
Torahime: Stop trying to get inside…! Sensei…!
Amahiko: It’s fine. That competition is unnecessary for me.
Rikai: …Eh?
Amahiko: I never understood why I was so obsessed with victory.
Amahiko: The source of my libido depending on the evaluation of others didn’t feel that was true to myself.
Amahiko: But now that has become clear to me. In reality, there has been someone this whole time.
Amahiko: A man who I wanted to be recognized by.
Amahiko’s father: !?
Amahiko: The stage I wanted to dance on was not at the Sexy World Cup!
Amahiko: Dear father, it was in front of you!
Amahiko: My libido is you, father! It’s youuuuu-------!
〜♪
Amahiko’s father: !? What!
Sarukawa: His libido is his dad!
Rikai: That’s what it was!
Terra: It all makes sense!
(Amahiko taking off his yukata)
Amahiko: Fufufufu… Hahaha…
Amahiko’s father: Hey... why are you…!
Amahiko: Time for training.
(Amahiko’s father getting scared)
Amahiko’s father: …! Stop, Amahiko…
Amahiko’s father: What are you up to! STOOOOOP!
(Amahiko throwing off his clothes)
Amahiko: TA-DAH!
Amahiko’s father: GUAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
(Charisma charge: Complete)
Amahiko’s mother: Huh? My body feels great!
The six of them: Ma’am!
Fumiya: I’m glad
Amahiko: Now everyone together
Amahiko: ECSTASYYYYYYYYYYYY YAAH!!!
Take No Break
#charisma house#charismahouse#kusanagi rikai#tendou amahiko#motohashi iori#ito fumiya#terra#sarukawa kei#minato ohse
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plotted starter // @ensxrcelled // Glacies
The battalions consists of a thousand troops if not more, all of them merfolk from the Coral Sea. Jade had never once in his life seen this many mermaids gathered, perhaps that was because their numbers were in slow decline since a thousand years ago. His eyes wanders the rows of troops as he watches from a platform from the second floor of the stronghold, fingers sliding against railings clearly made of otherworldly metal as he makes his way towards the stairs, pondering whether he should descend and take what he assumes would be his last glance at merfolk he once considered his brothers and sisters.
Someone places a hand on his shoulder and Jade turns around. Tension eases out of mismatched eyes when they were welcomed with the sight of red-haired man with green eyes. Jade's gaze hardens, but it quickly turns into a weary and resigned sigh when Rielle leans in further to wrap his arm completely around his shoulders and bump their fists.
They don't particularly get along. Rielle is far too cheerful, far too high-spirited for Jade. His bubbly, overoptimistic attitude tend to get on his nerves at the worst of times. He finds Rielle exhausting and shallow. Compared to the simpleton that is Rielle, he'd much preferred Floyd's ability to overcomplicate things and making everything more interesting.
Though, when that had happened to Floyd... Rielle had been the only soul who Jade allowed around him, a combination of wariness and fear that what happened to Floyd might also befall upon him, and they'd been —he's reluctant to use the word— friends ever since. Or at least, Rielle believed so.
"I was surprised at your request to switch to administration work, Jade."
Jade wrinkles his nose. It's a long time coming, he knew. Rielle makes it a point to be an active participant in almost all of his affairs. He tips his head slightly upwards as if to draw a breath of fresh air. A hand lifts to pinch the bridge of his nose. "It's to be expected, I've just only woken up. The nurses have advised against physical labour for quite some time. Mother has already approved of the transfer."
One of his hand is still in bandages, winding around his neck and shoulders. The nurses had deemed that he's healthy enough to leave the infirmary, but he would still have to keep his hand in bandages for another week.
"Oh, right." Rielle laughs it off, "I just think it's a pity for you to leave us. You would've been my supervisor."
It wouldn't have mattered. There is no where else to go but circles within Queen Moriganna's army.
We've fallen so low that we've taken the homes of someone much more weaker than ourselves simply because we can.
Rielle was a fool. Until today the former prince of the Coral Sea was not aware of who had been behind his father's murder. King Triton's death was shrouded in engima, but at his passing everyone has been too busy scrambling for survival that no one spared the time to give his timely death a proper investigation.
His eyes returns to the battalion, the sound of their footsteps resound in the hall in unison. "I would be getting my own office, and I would be primarily in charge of our provisions and our armoury. It is much better than having to fight on the battlefield."
He gives Rielle a final, dismissal wave and turns back towards the direction he came from. The insides of Tesseract was fortified with a special kind of metal he and Floyd discovered centuries ago while searching for a potentially new place to inhabit. Nothing could quite pierce it, despite numerous experiments and attempts. It's the same metal they used to create their weapons and their armour. Merfolk who were once told to live in hiding from fear of humans could now wipe off entire human cities if they wished.
He turns a corner and descends a long, steel-coloured hallway. Antartica is so cold, even merfolk such as themselves had to put on furcoats and thick boots when they were in their human forms. However, there had been no objections that this is exactly the reason why it's favourable for merfolk to rebuild their homeland here, away from human civilization.
He simply had not expect to find that Antartica had its own natives. When Floyd discovered this place and they'd spent months together here, neither of them had encountered a single soul.
Just as he reaches his room, a lackey runs up to him and frantically reports. "Sir, someone is causing a scene in the cafeteria. I think they're a lych. Assigned to your squad."
Jade's response is a long, muted silence, but only for a little while. "Direct them to my office."
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Burning Hearts: Chapter Twenty-Four
(AO3 counterpart here.)
Nights dragged by after Fireheart’s walk with Tigerclaw. As if to punish Fireheart for his optimism, hail pummeled the territories for long enough that even the elders remarked in surprise that they’d never seen this before, in between telling stories to entertain the cats who stayed inside to avoid the weather. Fireheart’s ears were freezing all the time and he quickly grew tired of being hit on the nose by clumps of ice. The hail melted, sure, but that just led to chilled mush on the ground one had to crawl over and tramp through if they wanted to get any prey.
The scarcity of prey was another problem—Fireheart had been warned once that prey became harder to find as the seasons grew colder, and the ones that didn’t just wait the temperatures out by sleeping would be skinny. Combined with the leaves on the forest floor that stuck to his paws and alerted his quarries to his presence, his hunting attempts were barely ever successful. Even when he did catch something, he would stare at it between his paws, painfully aware that this was not going to fill any belly in his Clan.
Worse was when, one evening, Fireheart jolted awake to a cry from the nursery. The words were indistinct but desperate and repeated; he thought he caught Brindleface wailing for “Elderkit”, drowning out Frostfur and Goldenflower’s attempts at soothing her.
“What’s going on out there?” Fireheart asked Whitecloud, who had just woken up himself and was peering out of the warrior’s den.
Whitecloud sighed and gave Fireheart a solemn look. “Brindleface must have lost one of her kittens.”
What little sleepiness remained in Fireheart immediately vanished. He bolted upright, his tail puffed out in alarm.
“This happens,” Whitecloud said calmly, eyes soft and sad. “All we can do is mourn for her.”
Fireheart wanted to argue or plead denial or run to help save the kit or something, just anything that could stop this. As it was, he was frozen in place, even as the rest of his Clanmates roused behind him and murmured sympathetically.
Sure enough, when everyone was awake, Goldenflower pulled herself out of the nursery holding a tiny dark-grey kitten, limp and lifeless. Fireheart’s eyes were glued to the dangling body while everyone else bowed their heads and shut their own eyes. Brindleface’s voice warbled out from under the tree-roots, a shaky, near-incoherent stream of grief that Frostfur quietly replied to with gentle reassurance and sympathy when there was room for breath.
Fireheart’s throat tightened around a lump. He watched Goldenflower silently leave camp, her tail dragging on the ground.
“Where’s she taking him?” Swiftpaw whispered to Lizardtail, both sitting near Fireheart.
“She’s burying him where Brindleface decided,” Lizardtail whispered back. “I don’t know where, but it’s not our place to ask.”
Swiftpaw nodded slowly, his eyes melancholic but resigned.
Fireheart hated that. He hated that resignation on everyone’s faces. How could even a young apprentice already be fine with someone so small dying?
He didn’t remotely humor the idea of expressing that anger, though. Swiftpaw was sensitive enough. He just sighed and turned his gaze to the ground, vaguely aware of Lizardtail glancing at him.
“It happens,” Lizardtail said, a little louder now and seemingly speaking in Fireheart’s direction. “Kits die. All the time.”
Fireheart turned his head a little—yes, Lizardtail was looking at him, somewhere between awkward and distant. Quietly, he responded, “I don’t know that it ‘happening all the time’ will be a source of comfort.”
Irritation swept over Lizardtail’s face for just an instant. Then that awkwardness returned. “Well… it’s something we all have to get used to at some point. It sucks, yes, but—”
He stopped. Fireheart waited, but Lizardtail did not appear to have anything he could add as an argument against mourning dead kits. He moved his mouth a few times before turning back to Swiftpaw and clearing his throat.
“We might as well get some hunting done,” he said. “Come on.”
Swiftpaw gave Fireheart a worried look, only standing up to follow his mentor when Fireheart flicked a paw at him: permission to go on, he’d be fine. The pair’s movements sent a ripple through the clearing—everyone else slowly returned to their business, whether that was picking up prey or grouping up to patrol under Tigerclaw’s direction.
“You alright?” Ravenwing asked, somehow having gotten close to Fireheart without his notice. “I know it’s hard to see.”
Fireheart didn’t startle. He didn’t have the focus for it. He just shook his head. “How can anyone be okay with this?”
Ravenwing grimaced. “Well, we’re not okay with it, but we’re used to it. I mean, I had siblings that died when I was a kit. So did Greystripe.” His eyes went to the nursery. “Honestly, it’s a miracle that Frostfur’s kits all survived. That doesn’t happen with litters that big.”
At Fireheart’s lack of a response, Ravenwing gingerly draped his tail over his friend’s back. There was a moment of silence.
“Where’s Greystripe?” Fireheart finally asked dully.
“Oh…” Ravenwing leaned his head in closer, murmuring now. “He said something about going to check for news about Silverstream.”
More kits to potentially lose, Fireheart thought miserably. Who else—?
He jerked his head up.
“I’m going for a walk,” he said, voice low but taut.
“Oh. Okay.” Ravenwing shuffled a little. “Do— do you want company?”
“Not on this one, sorry.” Fireheart stood up. “Just—if anyone asks, I went out alone to think.”
Ravenwing’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny, but he nodded. Fireheart took the opportunity to turn and force himself to walk coolly out of camp. No one watched him go, thank the stars.
As soon as he was sure no one could hear him, he whipped around and sprinted for the Houses. He only slowed down when he was out of breath, and even then he barely went below a run. Cold and wind and mud vanished from his awareness—all he could do was see where he was going.
He reached the Houses quickly, not slowing down while crossing the border. He only skidded to a halt when he reached the gravely road and caught sight of a familiar face.
“Smudge!” he called.
The fat black-and-white kittypet was choppily trotting his way, puffing far more than Fireheart. He called back, “There you are!”
Fireheart barely took a heartbeat to bump heads with his friend. “What’s going on? Have you seen Rosy?”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d come by for.” Smudge’s yellow eyes popped with worry. “Your sister was yelling for you all day. I asked her what was wrong and she just said she needs you. Something about her kits.”
“Oh, stars above.” Fireheart’s back legs almost gave out. “Not more of this.”
Smudge, taken aback, blinked and frowned. “What do you mean?”
Fireheart looked painfully at his friend. “My Clan lost a kit this evening.”
“‘Lost a…’” Smudge started, before his eyes widened again. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
Fireheart nodded without energy.
Smudge nudged the ginger tom’s shoulder with his head. “No wonder you look so upset. I hope to high heaven that Rosy’s situation is better.”
“Is she out now?”
“She was when I left.”
“Then come on.” Fireheart shook himself in impatience. Together, the two quickly padded down the street, silent until they reached Rosy’s yard.
Fireheart didn’t waste any time; he leaped over the fence, leaving Smudge to climb over more slowly alone. No cat was in the yard, but he only had to call his sister’s name before she came bolting through the door-flap and almost crashed into him, only stopping a whisker-length away and then leaning into him hard, shaking all over.
“Thank you,” she whispered, breathless. “Thank you for coming.”
Fireheart’s own fear spiked, but he forced himself to stay calm and groom the top of her head, purring, as Smudge landed behind him. Slowly, Rosy’s shaking lessened and she stepped back to look him in the eye. Her face was miserable and terrified.
“What’s wrong?” Fireheart asked, using the exact same easing gentleness Whitecloud had to him earlier.
“I—” Rosy swallowed. “I had my kits. Some days ago.”
“Oh, that’s—”
“No, listen.” Rosy’s voice wobbled. “I had them, and they’re all healthy and beautiful, but… but some humans came over yesterday. They all started picking up my babies—like they were toys or something, an-and I tried to get them to stop, but my human pulled me out of my nest and put me away until they were gone. My babies were crying, and the humans, they– they were talking to each other, and I didn’t understand what they said, but I knew what they were doing.” She shook harder again. “They were doing what they did to you and me, Fireheart. They were picking my kittens to go to their own houses.”
Fireheart knew his face had fallen. He nodded sadly for her to go on.
“And I realized—” Rosy shuddered out a breath. “I realized that one day, I’m never going to see my kits again. They’re going to go away a-and have kits of their own or get sick or die and I’ll never know. I won’t get to watch them grow and talk with them and share stories and tell them about you, and you’ll never meet them. And I can’t stand that, Fireheart, I can’t.”
Out of the corner of Fireheart’s eye, Smudge was looking at him glumly.
“I can’t imagine how hard that is,” Fireheart said quietly, touching his nose to Rosy’s head. “I barely see you and Smudge, and that sucks. For you and your kits…”
Rosy buried her face in his chest, barely managing to get out, “I know.”
The kittypets and warrior were silent for a long time, Rosy leaning against Fireheart for support and Fireheart grooming her as well as he could. Smudge looked deep in unhappy thought, fidgeting a little like he was anxious to solve the situation.
“Your Clan is lucky, Fireheart,” he said at last. “At least you get to know what happens to everyone, kit or– or, uh, adult.”
Rosy’s head shot up, her eyes stretched wide enough to rival ShadowClan. “You keep your kits?”
Fireheart nodded. “They stay with us all their lives. They become apprentices and train under warriors, or seers, or I think even the matr—”
Rosy whipped around and was through her door-flap in an instant. Fireheart blinked and exchanged a confused look with Smudge. Both of them turned sharply at a high-pitched wail coming from inside the house, followed swiftly by Rosy pushing her way back outside, a tiny white kit scruffed in her mouth.
Fireheart was the first to speak. “Rosy, what—”
“Take him.” Rosy set down the kit and sat behind him, tucking her paws in close around him, as if to share body heat. “Please.”
Fireheart and Smudge exchanged a look again, this time one of disbelief.
“Rosy, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Smudge said carefully. “The forest is a dangerous place, we all know that—”
“Fireheart, your Clan will keep him safe.” Rosy’s big yellow-green eyes fixed Fireheart’s gaze right on her. “Won’t they? They’ll take care of him.”
Fireheart opened his mouth and had absolutely no idea what to say. “I– Rosy—”
“Don’t you have queens?” Rosy persisted. “And cats who can teach him how to live out there?”
“Well– yes, but—”
“Then you can take him to your Clan and they’ll raise him.” Rosy’s voice caught. “And I’ll know where he is, all the time. And you can bring him to see me, can’t you?”
“Rosy,” Fireheart said with speed and emphasis. “One of our kits just died earlier tonight.”
The little tortoiseshell wilted, looking down at her squealing kitten.
“We can raise him, but life is still risky in the forest,” Fireheart went on. “He could get sick or hurt without a human to fix him. And I can’t promise that ThunderClan would agree to take a stranger’s kit, or that they’d even let him know who you are.”
Rosy wilted even further. She looked up at her brother, pleading.
“But wouldn’t you take care of him?” she asked weakly.
And Fireheart just didn’t have it in him to rebuke her. He sighed, more empathetic than tired. Softly, he said, “I’d mentor him myself.”
“Then please…” Rosy placed a paw on the kit’s side, earning her another complaining mewl. “Try. I’m begging you.”
Curse his soft heart, the look on Rosy’s face got to him. Fireheart took in a breath, tried to will himself to refuse, sighed and nodded. “I’ll try. But if they don’t want him, he’s coming back here.”
Rosy sagged down, eyes wet with gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you.” She bent down her head to the kit’s level, touched her nose to his cheek, and licked the top of his head. She looked up again. “I named him Cloudy.”
“That’s a good name,” Smudge said, sounding resigned. “Fireheart, you better get him to your Clan quickly. It’s cold out here for a kit.”
Fireheart bumped heads with Rosy. “I’ll see you if I can.”
“Thank your Clan for me, if they say yes,” Rosy said before stepping away from Cloudy, making the little thing wail.
Fireheart didn’t quite know how to pick up a kitten, so he copied his sister and held him by the scruff. Cloudy squeaked in protest—he was certainly feeling fine against the cold—and dangled as Fireheart carefully jumped up over the fence, Smudge in tow and Rosy watching them leave.
“I hope your Clan will appreciate this, uh, offering,” Smudge said as they half-ran down the street. “But from what you’ve told me, they’re not… enthralled about kittypets.”
“Maybe a kit will be different,” Fireheart said around Cloudy’s scruff. “I gotta run.”
“Yeah, get going.” Smudge nodded. “Good luck.”
Fireheart waved his tail and broke into a sprint again, still energized by the cold air. Cloudy was quiet until they got into the woods and Fireheart had to start ducking around bushes and jumping over fallen logs and branches. Then he started up with protests that scraped against Fireheart’s ears.
I know, little guy, I know, he tried to think at the kitten. You’re cold and your mother just gave you up for strangers. I’m going as fast as I can without hurting you.
By the sounds of it, Cloudy did not hear what he thought, nor did he particularly care.
At least that was a sign that he was healthy, Fireheart supposed.
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Early Departures
Nico jumps when the door to the visitors’ area hisses open.
He wasn’t paying attention to what was going on in there.
He’s been huddled up in a little ball of misery and hurt feelings under the window for…approximately eight minutes, according to his watch.
He scrambles to his feet just as Joey closes the door behind her. He’s sure she noticed, but she doesn’t comment on it.
“You’re…uh…you’re back early.” His voice is rough and wet and he clears his throat harshly.
“They had to take a bus here and if they don’t make it to the stop by seven, there won’t be another one for an hour.” Joey shrugs. “Mauri’s got his learner’s permit but they don’t have a car.”
Just another thing in the long list of reasons even the best parts of the mentor program get hung up in real life struggles. Joey was supposed to have an hour with her family. Between her pre-visit jitters and her family needing to get home safely at a reasonable hour, she barely got half of that.
“They said they’d stay, but I don’t want them waiting that long in the dark, or walking home.” She says nothing about calling a cab or a rideshare, and Nico can understand why. Last time they were alone in a vehicle with someone driving them to a destination, Joey got bitten and infected. Statistically, late hour rideshare driver is a pretty common job for vampires, and not all of them are ethical about it. It’s not like the bus is a whole lot better, but the bus driver doesn’t know where you live.
Shortly before he got Joey assigned to him, Nico had heard about a coven where drivers identified marks and then some of the other vamps pretended to drop off deliveries, showed up as contractors, or otherwise conned their way inside the places.
He’s not sure Joey heard about that scam, she wasn’t involved much in the vampire world before her turn, but she’s also smart enough to have figured out the potential for it on her own.
Nico makes a mental note to ask around the office and see if anyone’s planning on swapping a vehicle soon. It’s a little bit overstepping the boundaries of his official job description when it comes to his mentees, but he’s pretty sure that making sure Joey and her family get their full visitation time falls under the general bullet point of supporting his mentee’s social wellbeing.
This is upsetting him a lot more than it should, given Joey seems not exactly happy with the situation but at least resigned to the idea of losing out on some time with the people she just reconnected with.
“What happened to you?” Joey asks.
He’d been planning to slip out to the restroom for a few minutes, wash his face, and pull himself together. But he’d also expected to have about ten more minutes. He’s sure he looks like a mess.
He shrugs. “Nothin’. We oughta get going.” When they step up to the exit door, he wipes at the tear tracks on his cheeks as subtly as he can with his hoodie sleeves.
Neither of them say anything much as they walk to the van parked in Chimera’s visitor lot. Joey mentions a few tidbits of news from her family, but she’s more subdued than he’d expected after how well the visit was going. Right up until they had to leave early.
He’s not sure if it’s having their time cut short, or if it’s his fault for letting her find him so obviously in distress, or some combination of both that has her acting like this.
But he’s going to find out.
He waits until they pull out onto the street, into the slowly moving river of traffic. Joey is staring out the window at the lights and the buildings they’re passing, blinking slowly every few seconds.
Nico sighs. “I know your thing is being okay for everyone else. But I also know you’ve been desperate to see your family for weeks, and now you missed out on half of it.”
Joey shrugs, but doesn’t look away from the window. “I told them to go catch the bus. They all should get home as soon as they can at night.” It’s the same kind of painful self-sacrificing practicality that made her lock herself in a silver-laced crypt for two weeks as a fledgling. He still doesn’t know how she managed that.
A moment of post-feeding clarity and an available hunter burial site, according to her file, but still.
“I’ll ask around the office. I know a couple of the others have been talking about getting newer cars, and maybe one of them would be interested in selling the old one outright instead of trading in.” It’s hard for vamps to get leases, too. More often, they own vehicles outright.
“I can’t just let you find Mauri a car. You’re supposed to be helping me, not everyone in my family. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Joey, sometimes I think you are your family. You won’t let yourself be okay until they are. Everything I know about you is that you put your own best interests dead last compared to your siblings or even your aunt. So if I want to stand a chance o’ helpin’ you, I have to help them first, so you’ll let something good happen for you too.”
“Why are you trying so hard for me?”
“Because I called Ricky again while you were in there.”
“Did he answer?”
Nico just shakes his head. “Nothing I do or say is gonna get him back. But your family wants you in their lives. And that’s worth hangin’ onto every single moment of. I don’t want you to miss out on one.”
Joey bites her lip and looks down. “No wonder you’re so upset I had to cut the visit short.” She looks up at him. “I get it. But I learned a long time ago not to feel sorry for myself about the things I don’t have, and to just be happy for the things I do. If I hadn’t figured that out, I’d be a lot worse off.”
It sounds better than tearing his heart out over and over every time he hears a voicemail. But that same attitude is what put Joey in a blood coma in a place no one would have found her for maybe decades.
Maybe the best course is somewhere in the middle between stubborn refusal to give up on what you want, and acceptance of the circumstances life throws at you.
He’s beginning to think Joey’s going to do him as much good as he’s going to do for her.
“I’ll take the help with the car on one condition,” Joey says. “You come meet my family at the next visit and tell Mauri all about the plan yourself.”
It’s definitely unorthodox.
But if it gets Joey to accept a little more help from him, he’ll go for it.
“Okay. I’ll clear it with Lawson first, but I don’t think she’ll veto it.”
“We’ve lost a lot of family. And you’re kind of part of mine now, so I think it’s only fair they all get to meet my mentor and boss. Tía Patricia was already asking all kinds of questions about you. She worries a lot.”
Nico can only imagine how that woman is going to cross-examine him. But he’s honestly sort of looking forward to it. Besides, setting her mind at ease is going to make things easier in the long run.
“Also, I think you should know. You called your sister an annoying pest.”
The look Joey gives him is the most murderous he’s seen her yet.
“What was that about my sister?”
“You called her a ray of sunshine.”
“I’ve been calling her that since she was a baby. She was always smiling. Even when she wasn’t feeling good or had to stay in the hospital.”
Nico shakes his head. “Clearly you haven’t come across the vampire meaning.”
“There’s a vampire meaning?” Joey is genuinely at a loss.
“If you hear a vampire call someone a ray of sunshine, it’s not a compliment,” Nico explains. “It’s a small but persistent annoyance.”
Joey stares at him for a second then bursts out laughing. “That…makes a weird kind of sense.”
“You don’t have to tell her if you don’t want to.”
“Are you kidding? She’s going to think it’s hilarious.”
“In that case, I look forward to witnessing this.” Without a panel of shatterproof silver-treated glass and an intercom system between them.
(This is the followup to Day 13, which you can read on my WorldAnvil here! You can also read this story and others from this universe there!)
@catwingsathena @nade2308 @the-one-and-only-valkyrie @telltaleclerk @ettawritesnstudies @writeouswriter @whump-place @the-lovely-wren
#febuwhump#febuwhump2024#febuwhumpday22#you weren't meant to be there#josefina quintero#domenico pontevecchio
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Character sketches
Francis was the first of the Safehouse boxboys to make himself known, although Mikey was not far behind. The thing I'm finding most fascinating about writing Francis is finding ways to convey his worldview, which I feel like I'm doing to a greater extent than with Mikey or Nathan. Because he was living with another person who had very definite ideas about what he should be like, Francis had his worldview sort of forged for him in really odd ways.
There will eventually be an installment where he learns to count higher than ten, for example, but right now he thinks everyone gets to ten and starts over and therefore functionally can't conceptualize of quantities greater than 100 (ten tens, as he would think of it).
He also speaks in third person, which obviously the other two do not, and has developed a very flowery, formal way of speaking as a result of being a living showpiece and as much an accessory in his former owner's home as the art on the walls. I imagine that his owner worked on training him to speak in a highly artistic style and move as if everything is a ballet.
Francis gets really good at interpreting for Mikey when Mikey learns to sign and ultimately decides to pursue interpreting as a career. It's a good fit for him because he doesn't have to speak for himself or produce original utterances unless they're really simple; he can just interpret from one language to another what somebody else is saying. He also prefers not being the focus of the conversation in any way and interpreting lets him fade comfortably into the background.
I imagine that he uses a wheelchair or crutches depending on how he's feeling, but because of the nerve damage in his feet, has a lot of difficult walking without a mobility aid.
When I write Mikey, I kind of can't help but make him sound small and waifish, because he's so sad and scared all the time- at least until yesterday's short story, which gives a brief glimpse of Mikey in the future. In fact, Mikey is a pretty big guy, which is likely what you'd want for a guy who lives as somebody's personal bouncer. He's probably six inches taller than Francis, although Nathan is closer to Mikey's height.
And as I elaborated on a little in yesterday's backstory, he's very muscular from a combination of enforced workouts and a low dose of steroids. Incidentally, I don't think the WRU publicizes their use of steroids but I would bet everyone knows they do it. Owners presumably make the choice to continue that practice or not, but I think Mikey's owners don't. There's probably a story about withdrawal in there, actually.
I don't know much about Mikey or Francis before they were boxboys, but I do have some idea what happens to Mikey after he's been at the Safehouse a while. As you can guess if you're caught up, he is going to be able to use his hands and arms fairly normally (although he hates when it rains because he gets so sore) and he becomes a fluent signer over time.
I think he goes from resignation at the loss of his voice to having a lot of anger about it. He experiences bouts of depression as he learns to cope with knowing how things could have been vs. how they are, but he finds strength and fulfillment in becoming an activist against the Pet trade. It's the kind of outlet for his anger that Mikey really appreciates- he abhors violence, but he feels a strong need to "get back at" the people who took so much from him. He probably does, or tries to do, research to find out who he used to be. I'm not yet sure what amount of success he has.
Poor Nathan was the last of the three to come along and I feel like he sometimes get short shrift. His backstory is the only one I have much of a handle on, and he talks about it in one chapter. He aged out of the foster care system and basically didn't have the counsel or a parent or mentor to give him a realistic perspective on what volunteering to become a Pet entailed. I think he was very briefly working a soul-sucking job somewhere he hated and was recruited on the basis of his looks and the recruiter's desire for a commission check.
Obviously, when he got to the WRU facility, it was nothing like he had imagined. I don't think he knew about the memory-wiping process, although I think most adults in his society are aware that something like that goes on. In my created world, as in many other peoples', I think, Pets are a luxury and generally only affordable by people who are wealthy or willing to save up. So Nathan went in with just the information he had from the recruiter, which obviously wouldn't reflect reality.
Once I wrote the bit where Mikey remembers another Pet who was kind to him and who was the closest thing he ever remembers having to a friend, I knew I wanted them to be re-united. I wasn't quite sure what Nathan's defining feature would be until I was writing it and sort of discovered in the process that although he had signed the papers and been sold and lived as a Pet, the memory wipe had never taken.
I was pretty fascinated with the implications, which I'll definitely want to explore at greater length. One thing it means is that Nathan knows exactly who he is and what his life was like before, although he was pretty lonely to begin with, so nobody's looking too hard for him. It also means that he knows exactly what happens at WRU facilities and can be a whistleblower, if and when anyone's ready to hear the truth.
But the effect of all this on his mental health is hard to overstate, because it's so traumatic to go through training and living as someone's possession without ever giving away that you're the same person you always were before. (Side note- Nathan is dyslexic, which is how he gets by without admitting he can read. He definitely can, but it's enough work that he doesn't see words and visibly process them without meaning to.)
The almost endless mental stress of pretending to have no memory, on top of the same stress other Pets experience, like trying to please a person who may be impossible to please, never having time to themselves, and being under constant physical strain, really takes its toll on Nathan. I think he has a sort of permanent thousand-yard stare, even when he's looking directly at someone or something. A part of his brain is just always a little stunned and distracted and he usually looks sad, even when he isn't. Meeting Mikey again, though, gives him a bit of a new lease on life, because he's so relieved and happy to know that Mikey has a chance at a happy ending.
NB: originally written for a BBU Community Days prompt that I was informed I misunderstood. I’m not able to rework the post but I hate to waste the work so I’ll leave it in case anyone is interested.
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Turtle headcanons but almost all are about Donnie (movie spoilers)
- Spiny softshell turtles (I think thats what he is) have stripes from their eyes down to their neck and are covered in spots. I made those purple like the canon shoulder stripes. The extra stripes and spots became more noticeable after the movie when he was around 17/18.
- Spiny softshell turtles are not adapted well to handle changes in oxygen levels so Donnie has asthma
- Donnie is the younger twin
- He had glasses when he was younger but not during the show time because he outgrew them and has put off finding a suitable replacement because he hates the way the temples of them squish against his head when he also has his headphones/goggles on.
- Actually very squeamish around blood/major injuries but was unfortunately delegated to the stand-in medic after the events of the movie since Leo was out of commission.
- More of an ‘all the turtles’ thing but they go through three major growth spurts, (look at the babies compared to the tots compared to the show compared to future leo like woah there) one from 1-3, one at around 11, one at 18-20. The one at 18-20 gives them some more unique features like the spots, makes them even taller, and finishes their brain development (like humans at 25).
- Mikey caps out at 5′5 cause apparently all that growth went to his mystic powers. Donnie gets to 6′9 and Leo gets to 6′7. Raph gets to 7′2. Their new base after the movie is bigger.
- Will Wood listener
- Wants to go to comic-con type things but the idea of all those people makes him nauseated. If he did he would get fake tusks and very easily pass as a troll from world of warcraft cosplayer.
- He’s so used to taking notes/designing things/etc on a computer that combined with the turtle hands he has the worst handwriting of the four of them.
- Bi + demiromantic
- Best swimmer of all of them and can breathe underwater. Forgets that the others can’t breathe underwater very often.
- The worst case of resting murder face you’ve ever seen, to the point where he regularly practices ‘proper’ facial expressions/reactions in the mirror in order to not freak out strangers.
- That wrong tooth Leo took out when they were kids did not grow back properly and its on a little tilt towards the front of his mouth. He has considered removing it and replacing it with a gold one Just For The Look but has resigned himself not to.
- Him and Raph were the bite-y kids. Raph grew out of it because of his fear of hurting his brothers by accident. Donnie did not. Definitely bites peoples arms to show affection and absolutely was given a dog chew toy by Leo for one of his birthdays. Actually uses it sometimes but nobody knows because it would be really embarrassing.
- In the Bad Future, taught Casey how to swim, do math, history, etc. Went out when Casey was 12, defending and evacuating the rebel base after they were found. To get everyone else out he had to remotely operate a lot of things and couldn’t escape with them.
#rottmnt#rottmnt movie#rottmnt movie spoilers#rottmnt donnie#donatello#tmnt#tmnt donatello#rottmnt mikey#rottmnt raph#rottmnt leo#my art#rottmnt headcanons
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Is Flowey's literal inability to love and care about others tied to his SOULless state, his past trauma, his huge emotional and psychological baggage, or a combination of all 3?
I think it's a combination of factors. I think being soulless has impacted him, but I honestly think it's entirely possible he has some form of PTSD or depression as well. The thing with Flowey is that he's not a psychologist, and to our knowledge, he never went and got help from a psychologist. I also believe that Toriel and Asgore are really not great at meeting the needs of traumatized or neurodivergent kids.
That's not a diss on either, but I think it's pretty telling in how they didn't seem to pick up on Chara's pain and bitterness in UT, and how both parents handle Kris in Deltarune.
Toriel seems very passive about Kris' eccentricities and problems. She worries and cares, but the fact that their bathroom behavior is just something they do sometimes and she seems to have resigned herself to it is worrying, and Asgore is so estranged from Kris that he isn't even sure if they like big hugs or not.
Asriel in Deltarune lived this very happy, successful life with tons of friends and accolades while Kris is a loner until Chapter 1 happens, and it strikes me that Toriel just... doesn't seem to know what to do. Plus even in Undertale, Toriel's gut response is that being loving and doting will make Frisk want to stay. I think both Toriel and Asgore struggle with the idea of a child whose needs can't simply be met through love.
And so, with Asriel reviving as a flower, I think they'd struggle with the idea that he's changed and that their love isn't going to "fix" him, and I think HE'D struggle with that because he can't fathom the impact things like trauma would have on him, so he just resigns himself to this idea that he's unable to love when it might be more complicated.
You can easily interpret Flowey's situation as a child not understanding mental illness and just assuming he is broken due to his lack of soul.
Plus having the ability to rewind time over and over again probably didn't help, considering it gave him a get out of jail free card and made it so easy to see everyone and everything as just a cyclical game of sorts.
But post-game, he does seem to be able to care again to some degree. Whether that's because he worked through his trauma, retained some residual compassion from his time as Asriel again, or something else... well, there's a lot of room for interpretations!
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Going Back to Those Times
Fandom: Pandora Hearts
Characters: Oz Vessalius, Gilbert Nightray
Summary: Many have said that the child we once were is never lost, it’s only waiting inside us for a chance to go out and play again. Gil and Oz have just proven that theory true.
A/N: Like I've said, one of my goals for 2024 is to finally finish all the wips that have been collecting dust on my folder for ages. This fic is a part of this project and a specially difficult one at that, because:
1) Believe it or not, this fic was supposed to be a fill for a prompt on the kink meme in LiveJournal (computer says I started it in 2011, which makes sense, but somehow feels wrong, where did time go?); and
2) Do you think past!me wrote down what the prompt was or saved a link to it anywhere? She did not! :D So I had to put together a plot and ending for this fic from the thousand or so words I had already written for it and my very vague memories of where I was intending to go with this.
Bright side is: I did it! Not exactly sure how close it is to the prompt it was supposed to fill anymore, so uh, if you had a prompt on the kink meme that involved Gil and Oz playing as kids again in some way and you happen to see this, I hope you like it! And I hope everyone else likes it, too!
If you prefer, also read it on AO3!
~~**~~
When Gilbert Nightray got out of his bed that day, he expected and resigned himself, as always, to face all kinds of strange, scary, dangerous, and very likely to cause serious body damage situations. And all that setting aside the part where he would eventually have to actually go out of the Rainsworth mansion to hunt the human-eating monsters that were known as “chains”.
He did not expect, however, that an apparently harmless excursion to the market would lead to him finding himself thrown to the ground and then smashed by five of what should be the most annoying, tireless, relentless and devious kids he had ever seen.
Aside from his master Oz, that is.
Gilbert felt all the air being forcefully pushed out of his body and struggled to get it back, but, with the combined weight of the children pressing directly onto his ribs and lungs, this task seemed almost impossible. He gasped, desperate for air, and tried to scream and make the kids get off of him, but only managed to get out a strangled whisper.
One of the kids – he couldn’t possibly tell which one – started to scream and roar in victory, giving the cue for the others to follow him and start a deafening noise.
An alert started to sound off in his head (“You need air NOW!”) so he did the next thing that had come to his mind and used his arms to lift himself from the ground a little. The kids didn’t even notice, but it was enough to stop his chest from being crushed and to get the air back into his body. His breath was, of course, a bit erratic, but, as he was not facing imminent death anymore, he could focus on other important things such as: how he would get out from under those children?
He tried to search for Oz and ask for help, but his view was currently limited and the blond wasn’t anywhere in his line of sight. Feeling completely hopeless, he dropped his head to the ground, groaning and trying to ignore the kids’ cheering, and went back to the events that had brought him to this ridiculous situation.
~~**~~
Gilbert had woken that morning to a mansion immerged in complete silence, what was, considering the people that lived there, rather odd and suspicious. Plus, having lived most part of his childhood with Oz Vessalius, he knew that silence was never a good thing.
While he washed himself and changed, his mind rushed through the possibilities of evil plots that could be being put into action at that exact moment. Horrible images started rushing through his mind: Of the mansion being blown up or he being thrown in a room full of cats or… Who even knew!? (And no, he wasn’t paranoid, thank you very much. Some of those things had actually happened before, especially the ones that involved cats).
Afraid of what he would face once he started wandering the corridors, the raven considered, for a moment, staying in his room and pretending it had nothing to do with him, but the fear of what could actually happen if he didn’t keep an eye on Oz and Break was enough to make him storm out the door, looking for them.
The obvious place to look at that time would be the dining room, as it was breakfast time, and, surely, as soon as he approached the door he heard Oz’s voice coming from behind it, but the one answering the blond was not who Gilbert had expected.
He opened the door to find Oz chatting animatedly with Reim (Well, the younger boy was chatting animatedly, the other was just listening, but seemed to be having a good time nonetheless). There was no one else there, which was odd. Where were Sharon, Break and that stupid rabbit? His master looked up at him when he entered the room and gave him a smile:
“Hey there sleepy-head. It was about time you woke up, Gil!”
“Good morning, Mr. Nightray.” Came Reim’s greeting soon after.
Deciding to ignore Oz’s comment, he took his place at the table, sitting right in front of them.
“Morning…” He looked over at Reim, trying not to look too curious, but he must have failed it, because the other soon added:
“I came to deliver some documents that master Barma wanted Lady Cheryl to analyse, and then I ran into Oz, who was kind enough to invite me for breakfast.”
One mystery solved. There was still the other one.
“I see… And where are the others? I mean, that stupid rabbit is probably still asleep, but where are Break and Sharon?”
It was Oz’s turn to ignore part of Gilbert’s comment. He had known since long that all the animosity between Gil and Alice was just for show, so he didn’t even pay any mind to it anymore.
“Sharon wanted to give Alice another one of those ‘lady lessons’ and took her to the city. Break went with them, of course, and he also said we could have the day off.”
At this, the raven-haired man sighed visibly in relief. So there wasn’t any evil plan being plotted, after all, thankfully (Okay, so he was just a little paranoid. No one could blame him for it after all he had been put through). More relaxed, he filled himself a cup of coffee. The rest of the morning went down smoothly.
Things continued calm until the middle of the afternoon. The others still hadn’t come back, so Gil and Oz were killing time at the library. The blond was sitting on the floor, back against one of the shelves while reading one of his adored Holy Knight books, and Gilbert was on the nearest table, filling up some paperwork, when the boy lifted his head and said the phrase that was bound to be the source of all of Gilbert’s nightmares:
“You know, Gil… I could really use some cookies right now…”
Gilbert didn’t even look up. The other wasn’t seriously asking him to drop everything to go bake cookies, was he? Didn’t he remember what had happened the last time he tried?
“So go ask one of the maids to bring you some.”
“But I want the ones that you make!” Oz almost but whined. “You were never able to finish them last time and I have been craving your cookies since then!” (Damn, so he did remember).
Receiving no answer, Oz huffed, immediately changing his tone of voice.
“Come on now, Gil; don’t make me turn this into an order, because you know I will.”
Yes, Gilbert didn’t have a doubt he would…
He really didn’t feel like making cookies at the time, but if that was going to make Oz happy, then he didn’t really mind.
The raven sighed, although it was only for show, and pushed his chair away from the table.
“Fine, I will make your cookies. I’ll be back in an hour or so, ok?”
“Oh, really?! Thank you, Gil!”
Gilbert rolled his eyes as he left the room. Oz had the sweetest of smiles on his face, as if he hadn’t just blackmailed him into doing just so, the manipulative brat…
Oz chuckled as he heard the library door closing. They were nice, these times when they played their little games, Gil pretending he didn’t like to obey Oz’s orders and the boy pretending that he didn’t give a damn. It was something they had been doing since they were kids, the only difference being that there used to be a lot more whining and crying from the (now) older’s part. But it was ok, most of the times. If the game was always the same, it would eventually become boring, but not with Gil. With Gil it just felt nostalgic, safe, welcomed... Just like home. Even if that “home” was always surrounded by deep darkness.
Caught in his own thoughts for a while, the book was lowered to his lap, almost forgotten. The sound of the opening door pulled him back to Earth with a startle, but he quickly composed himself and was back to his book-focused appearance by the time Gilbert appeared on the door frame.
“Wow, back already? You must be the quickest cookie-baker in the whole world!”
Gilbert huffed, not finding the slightest fun on the lame joke and thereby deciding to ignore it.
“The cooker said they have run out of vanilla extract because of the amount of deserts prepared for last night’s dinner and today’s lunch so I offered to go to town and buy some, since we are on a day off anyway. Just thought I should let you know.”
“Whaaat? You are not going to invite me to go with you? Are you abandoning me, Gil?”
Gilbert had only been teasing, and the comment was said on a tone not meant to be taken seriously, but shocked that his master would have that impression about him, Gilbert quickly sputtered a desperate excuse.
“What?! No! A-As if you needed any kind of invitation, idiot. And weren’t you the one that said that was going to stay glued to that book the whole day, anyway? I thought you would prefer staying here.”
“Huh? All alone? No way! I prefer going to town with Gil, it’ll be way more fun!”
Oz rushed to the exit, grabbing his sleeve, and started to pull him through the corridor, but that excited façade didn’t fool Gilbert. He had learned how to see through these expansive actions; that forced joy. He could count on his fingers the times Oz had really had fun after returning from the Abyss, and having to watch his desperate attempts of bringing back his old self, on continuing to seem untouched by the events surrounding them, clutched at his heart with an iron claw and ripped it to pieces.
No, even this was a false nostalgia, somewhat. There had been a lot of darkness surrounding Oz, even back then, that was why Gilbert was always doing – had always done – everything his master wanted, everything he thought might make him happy. But before his father’s ritual, there had at least been real innocence, real happiness in Oz and in plenty of his moments, specially when he was with his uncle Oscar and Ada. Now even those moments seemed tinged with a hidden angst.
If he didn’t know Oz as well as he did, though, it would be impossible to see. As he walked to and around town towards the market, the other boy chatted and ran everywhere, pointing at birds and interesting objects on the shop windows, and even making Gilbert chase him once or twice. Gilbert couldn’t help but wonder about the picture they painted, him all black and moody and Oz all golden and smiles, everyone that saw them would think they didn’t have a care in the world, though deep down he thought Oz was always ever so energetic because, if he stopped, then his thoughts would catch up to him.
“Hey, Gil, let’s take a shortcut through here!”
The call cut him from his thoughts, and he looked around to find Oz waving at him and pointing at the entrance to the park.
“That is not a shortcut. It will take us at least twice as long to get to the market through there.”
“No, no, it’s a shortcut. Trust me, Gil.”
Well, what was he supposed to do? Say he didn’t trust Oz? He begrudgingly followed the other into the park and off the path through the trees until they came to a clearing in the middle of the woods. Well at least it seemed like they were walking in the general direction of the market and should-
Something hit him on the back of the head, and he acted in a fraction of second, grabbing Oz by the arm and pulling him behind him as he turned around and pointed his gun in the direction of the enemy.
Unfazed, an angry looking young boy threw his ball in the direction of Gilbert’s face now, making him duck fast not to get hit.
“Hey, old man! Get out of the field, you are interrupting our game!” The boy yelled at him, and Gilbert quickly hid his gun away before yelling back.
“Don’t shoot balls at people, you know how dangerous that is?!”
“I wouldn’t have to shoot my ball at you if you didn’t walk in the middle of our game in the first place!”
Some other voices yelled in agreement behind him, and Gilbert looked around to see there were three or four more kids around, and no indication this was a playing field of any kind.
“Well, you shouldn’t be playing in the middle of nowhere like this. Where are your parents?!”
“None of your business!” The boy had the audacity to blow a raspberry at him, but before Gilbert could argue further, Oz got free from his hold and walked around him.
“A game? What game are you playing?”
“It’s a game I invented.” The boy said, sounding all cocky. “It’s called ‘monster’. The monster needs to try to shoot the ball at the others and if he hits someone, that person will be the new monster.”
“Woow, sounds super fun, can I play?”
“Sure!”
“Oz, we don’t have time to play, we need to go to the market and back to the mansion.”
“Aww, but Gil!”
The boy grabbed Oz’s hand and started pulling him away. “Don’t listen to that ugly nanny of yours, come play with us!”
The other kids cheered as Gilbert simmered in rage at being called an ugly nanny. He grabbed Oz by the back of his shirt. “No, we don’t have time to spend with these brats. Let’s go, Oz, or don't you want your cookies?”
Oz whined a little more, but soon his pout turned into the devious smirk Gilbert knew so well. He had a feeling he would not like whatever came next.
“Hey, I just thought of a new cool game we can play!” Oz said, and the other kids looked at him with confused faces. He pointed straight at Gilbert, and Gilbert immediately knew he absolutely would not like whatever came next.
“That guy is a super ugly, super mean monster, and we are the knights that are going to bring him down! Whomever can hit him with the ball, wins!”
“Oz, wait a-“ Gilbert started protesting, but had to jump to the side to avoid a ball one of the other kids had already thrown at him.
“Let’s get the monster!” She yelled and all the other kids, including Oz, cheered.
Oh, fuck.
Gilbert spent the next minutes running, dodging and jumping as the kids ran around him shooting and kicking the ball in his direction, trying to “kill the monster” or whatever it was. Oz gleefully joined in the torture and his attacks were the hardest to dodge since he knew Gilbert’s movements so well. It wasn’t particularly tiring or difficult after being trained most of his life by Break to fight Chains, but it was getting pretty annoying.
An idea suddenly stroke Gilbert and he wondered how he hadn't thought of it before. The next time one of the kids threw the ball at him, he grabbed it and held it high above his head.
“Game over, I win.”
“Aw man, that’s not fair!” One of the kids complained.
“That wasn’t part of the game!” Another joined.
The kid that had had an issue with him from the start looked angry for a moment and then gave a devious smirk that rivalled Oz’s and yelled:
“The monster is cheating! Let’s get him, guys!”
There was another round of yelling and before Gilbert could understand what he meant by that or react, one of the kids jumped at him from behind. He wasn’t expecting it so he lost his balance and stumbled, but he would have been able to recover, if the other kids didn’t follow soon after.
He fell to the floor with a scream, a couple of kids landing on his back and the others jumping after them in a pile over his body that left him unable to breathe. One of the kids – he couldn’t possibly tell which one – started to scream and roar, giving the cue for the others to follow him and start a deafening noise.
An alert started to sound off in his head (“You need air NOW!”) so he did the next thing that had come to his mind and used his arms to lift himself from the ground a little. The kids didn’t even notice, but it was enough to stop his chest from being crushed and to get the air back into his body. His breath was, of course, a bit erratic, but, as he was not facing imminent death anymore, he could focus on other important things such as: how he would get out from under those children.
He tried to search for Oz and ask for help, but his view was currently limited, and the blond wasn’t anywhere in his line of sight. Feeling completely hopeless, he dropped his head to the ground, groaning and trying to ignore the kids’ cheering as he tried to think, and that’s when he heard it.
Laughter. Pure and joyous laughter that he hadn’t heard in a long time.
His head jerked in the direction of the sound, and he could slightly make out Oz sitting on the floor and laughing like this was the funniest thing he had ever seen in his life.
He had missed that sound so much. Oz’s real laughter, without any sign of being forced or hollow, like the one he had had when they were both kids. Before Abyss, before his father, before chains or Baskervilles; it elated him, it was his most favourite and the best sound in the world. It made Gilbert so happy himself, he almost started crying from the relief of it.
He would do anything to keep that sound alive.
With renewed strength, he pushed himself up, making the kids fall on their own pile behind him, then he turned around, glaring down at them, and said:
“Now you have made the monster angry. I am going to eat all of you!”
He fake-growled and the kids screamed and scattered as he chased them randomly around without any intention of getting any of them. After a few seconds of this, he turned and looked at Oz. The other boy was looking at him with a surprised look on his face, half thinking it fun and half disbelieving, so Gilbert turned to him with hands half raised in claws, and fake-growled again.
“And you! You turned against me! I’m going to eat you first!”
He ran towards Oz and was pleased to see him reacting just like the other kids: with a fake scream and starting to dash around. He ran after him for a while, and almost exploded from happiness when he heard Oz laughing again, before he took a sharp turn towards one of the other kids that were nearby and continued chasing them randomly around the clearing among the trees.
Every once in a while, the game changed: soon the kids organised themselves into a monster hunting squad, and started chasing him again, then the ball was rediscovered near a tree and they went back to something more similar to what the boy had explained at first, with the “monster” trying to catch the others by hitting them with the ball, which somehow turned into a soccer match, and a game of hide and seek, and another round of tag.
Every time Oz laughed or smiled or cheered together with the other kids, it made Gilbert laugh, too, and soon he had forgotten that his own laughter had also died over ten years ago or that he was a hunter and a killer, the Raven from the Nightrays, and not simply a boy playing together in the park with his best friend.
This is what they were supposed to be, they were supposed to have had more of this, still years of this to come. They had been robbed from themselves and each other, their lives turned upside down, but this was their defiance: they could still laugh, and smile and play, and every time they did, they were taking back a little piece of what had been stolen from them, they were back to being just boys and best friends playing in the park, with freedom and their whole lives ahead of them.
They would never be able to go back to those times, but they could pretend and heal for a while, at least.
~~**~~
The sun was already setting when Gilbert and Oz finally sat down on the grass propped against each other, exhausted and trying to catch their breaths. The other kids said goodbye and waved as each disappeared back to their own homes, inviting them to come back and play again tomorrow. Even the boy that had initially disliked him said they could come back anytime; it made Gilbert smile.
“I’m completely beat, I hadn’t run so much in ages.” Oz remarked, and Gilbert had to agree.
“How was this somehow more exhausting than taking down a Chain? What do kids nowadays eat?”
His dramatic statement made Oz laugh again, and Gilbert beamed. He would never get enough of that sound.
“What made you change your mind, Gil?” The other suddenly asked. “I never thought you’d start a game yourself, but you were almost having more fun than me.”
The raven didn’t know what to say for a moment. He didn’t want to bring attention to Oz’s present happiness – and general unhappiness, by consequence -, in fear it would make it disappear, so he just shrugged. “I just wanted to teach those kids a lesson for piling on top of me, and I guess I got carried away.”
“I see… You were really cool when you called yourself the monster like that, I couldn’t believe it!”
The comment made Gilbert blush a bit. “Don’t make fun of me, I was just going along with what you said.”
“I’m not! You were really cool, I mean it.”
They stayed silent for a little while longer, until Oz said, almost inaudible:
“Thank you, Gil.”
It took Gilbert by surprise, but then he smiled, and put his hat on Oz’s head in place of an answer.
“Come on. Let’s go find a cab and go back to the mansion, I can’t walk the whole way back again.”
They found their way back to the main entrance of the park and Gilbert hailed a carriage for them to climb into. Oz fell asleep almost instantly, and Gilbert contented himself with watching over him on their way back.
It wasn’t until they were back at the mansion that he realised they had forgotten all about the vanilla extract and the cookies, but it was okay. They had gotten something way more precious instead.
#pandora hearts#oz vessalius#oz bezarius#gilbert nightray#fanfic#fanfiction#mine#writings#nandawrites#AO3#gen fic#childhood friends
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hero touya who finally realizes, as an adult, that he never really wanted to be a hero. he just wanted enji to care about him. but even now, enji doesn't really care about him, just what he can do for him. and even then he's still really only interested in shouto, touya's barely an afterthought, mostly a nuisance with enji still putting the weight of all his dreams onto shouto's shoulders.
then a couple of things go wrong when he's in pursuit of wanted man jin bubaigawara, who's just fattened up his wallet at a bank. someone gets overzealous, jin panics a bit, and in the end, jin and touya end up underground beneath a formerly-condemned-now-rubble building. while they wait for rescue, which will take a day or two to ensure they don't, y'know, die, they get to talking. and talking. and talking. jin gives touya the weirdest mix of a harsh lecture and pep talk he's ever received in his entire life.
jin is kind. roughed up, crude, but kind. one of the most wanted men in japan, and he's probably the kindest person touya's ever met. and it sort of makes him snap. the fact that enji, who couldn't care less about being a decent father to the children he practically demanded be dragged into existence, who hit his mother until she broke and poured boiling hot water over shouto's face, who's probably spoken a total of fifty words to natsuo and fuyumi combined, who could barely spare him a glance, who forced shouto to train until he couldn't stand... this piece of shit is at the top of the food chain, offered media deals and lavished in admiration of kids who don't know any better, who has practically everything except the title of number one. and when he doesn't have that, he forces everyone else to suffer for his stupid success.
then there's jin, who's talking his ear off, resigned to the fact that he's probably going to prison now, wistfully telling touya he's always wanted a pet of some sort but never got the chance. and there's a little restaurant on the street he used to work that he's always wanted to try but never found the time. how he's always dreamed of going to see the ocean, but he's never been outside the city, and now his future is mostly surrounded by slabs of concrete and wire fences and iron bars. touya almost feels stupid about complaining about his own life, but jin doesn't sneer or huffs. joins him, actually, when he has nothing good to say about his old man.
by the time they're ready to extract touya and the robber, enji's there to ask if jin is still in custody. of course, touya says, who does he take him for? and it's too late for the heroes. by the time they realize that the touya that dragged a cuffed jin over to the ambulance were just clones, and that the real touya and jin were making a run for it, there's not much they can do. jin's an expert at stealing vehicles, knows exactly what to do, with a practiced speed that touya doesn't notice because he's laughing at enji's flabbergasted gawk as they peel off.
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Transformers More Than Meets The Eye Retrospective: Annual #1: Ultra Magnus, What A Joke (Patreon Review For Brotoman.EXE)
Hello all you happy autobots and after a long side trip for beetlemania, we're back on the lost light!
In full too as for the next few months at least, we're back to the main story. Kinda. This story takes place BEFORE Shadowplay, our last covered one, but was put here so it could be paired with avengers annual #10 patreon review wise, but other than Rung still being headless it's not so out of synch that it coudln't be moved around.
Thankfully after this it's a straight shot to the end of season 1 with just three arcs to go, which teneatively will be covered in novemeber and december, with another break for a specail halloween suprise in october. After that we have the big crossover Dark Cybertron, which while serving as the end of Season 1 of this era of transformers, feels more like a big finale movie. It still has ramificatoins for both.. but both sides also had a proper finale before this.
So before things get explosive we have a character piece here.. and like with Shadowplay my general view was
The art didn't help. . As I said in another review of a great comic's less than well done annual, I TRY to be positive and for the most part the art on this book is great, but the art for this annual is pretty bleh. It's this weird mix of very 90's faces and very bland coloring that just dosen't not work.
The story itself however is pure setup for the finale, setting up a mystery to be solved there, some character growth with dire consequences for Magnus, while also, as tends to be standard for Roberts, setting up a plot point for much later in the story. So let's take a close look at MTMTE Annual #1 under the cut and see some smiles, some beaurcary and a giant robot man.
We open with an action set piece that dosen't do a lot for me. The art just isn't fluid enough and it's especially a downgrade from the regular artists, making it even more noticeable. It dosen't help the microcons their fighting look more like live action transformers,
And you can see the dullness I mean too. Our heroes still have their designs.. but the colors try to make them more realistic. Concidentally this scene is set in ultra magnus' mouth as some nanocons a decpitcon shot him with long ago have awakened and threaten to combine and kill him and then the ship, so our heroes have been shrunk down to deal with it. The only way to stop this realistic scenario that happens to everyone all the time is for Magnus to smile, destroying the generators in the pistons he uses for that.
This opening is a great example of just.. how much fun James Roberts has with MTMTE. While at it's core MTMTE is the kind of high concept sci fi you'd find in say Star Trek or Fantastic Four, he also doesn't forget he's writing giant colorful merchandisable battle robots that can turn into those nitro burning funny cars, vroom vroom! Besides the various jokes on the toys, he's not afraid to just go balls out silly.. while still having lots of nice genuinely deep sci fi couched within. It's essentially what i've heard Star Trek Lower Decks is before that existed: taking the piss out of a stored decades long franchise.. while still staying UTTERLY loyal to that franchise and why people love it.
Magnus tries to do his normal grumbly telling people ot straighten their badges and such , but everyone mocks him, something he takes with grace dignity and plans to resign as soon as possible.
First we get some smaller character stuff as everyone prepares for Tailgate's cermony, but it's all good: Rewind worries about Chromedome who is having a flash of ptsd... someone else's ptsd from the memories he's absorbed, Tailgate tries to get Cyclonus to attend but he's still being a mopey puss about it and Swerve passes by shock and or ore.. only for them to speak.
We'll table that problem for now as Drift's forced to have an invtervention for Hot Rod. He's been wearing a giant foam cowboy hat for 8 months now.
He can take it off any time he wants he just dosen't want to, so they instead pivot to another problem: He's been saying "Till All Are One" every five minutes. Rodimus deflects it.. and i've noticed as i've re-read season 1 that it's a pattern with him, and one that carries till the final arc of the series: Rodimus prefers to dance a little side step instead of face most of his problems. Just put it off to the side and let it sort itself out or let someone else handle it. And when he does tackle an issue, he usually handles it recklessly, impuslviely and half assedly
It's not that he's lacking any talent, his improvisations often work as seen with the very first issue, or that he's a terrible person: he loves his crew, as seen both with the red alert incident during shadow play and in this issue as when Magnus comes barging in demanding a new crew.. he explains that it's their way of showing affection. I mean granted i'm sure some of those are just jabs at his humilation, Magnus is a fun character but not exactly someone people like and he liked it that way, but his point is clear: it's okay for Magnus to be a person and not just the duly appointed enforcer of the tyrest accord. It's that humanity, for lack of a better term, that makes Rodimus likeable even when he's being a whinybabyasshatbot. He simply wants to be loved and respected, and this quest is more about personal validation by the universe than it is real enlightnment. He just wanted to do something big and showy to show he really earned having the matrix for a time and he really is worthy of being a prime. He just wants to be loved and can't accept that maybe.. he's just not the big sweeping hero go. A big sweeing hero guy sure, but he's not optimus and that's okay.
While Magnus stews on this advice, we also find out our heroes next stop: The Crystal City, home of the circle of light. Something that confused me as whlie this book is good at expositoin normally they kinda dropped the ball explaning these guys in a way that made sense if you hadn't read the drift mini.
The Circle of Light is a group of cybertroninan ninja monks who preach non violence and live in a walled off city, having largely skipped the war. They took in Drift at his lowest and the kind treatment and mentorship of their leader, Dai Atlas, convinced Drift to turn face and the circle in turn backed him when he needed their help.
This series recontecutlaizes them as having been avid followers of the knights of cybertron, a nice little addition, and thus seeing them, while also a homecoming of sorts for Drift, is important as if they can get them to join, they have all the help they'll need. The only problem is... Magnus can't raise them on coms and while Drift is assured given their badassery their fine.. as we'll soon see Magnus was right to be worried.
The ceremony itself goes off the rails: not only does Hot Rod fail to not use some form of till all are one, but Tailgate dosen't get to do his speech.. and his autobrand turns out as anceient cybertronian. Something is channeling through Hot Rod, and the bots who fell out of the airlock as we find out via an expesition dump during the ceremony.
Our heroes have even better concerns as the galactic council shows up.
While they explain it after this scene, i'll go ahead and filll any newcomers in, as Magnus does for Tailgate. It's a great part of having tailgate around: it allows Roberts to do worldbuilding without having to work too hard for it , as most of the cast would know this. Their essentially this universe's federation, a group of higher order plaents bound together to protect each other. They've recently taken on more policing, a red flag if their ever was one, and aren't fans of the cybertronians due to their war, having blacklisted them and being right dicks to Rodimus, having anxexed this territory as the Crystal City is abandoned. That itself.. is a dick move as they didn't bother informing cybertron, and the war's been long over enough, of any of this so they could investigate, instaed scavanging. It's some nice show don't tell: it shows that while these guys DO do some good and claim to be benevloent.. their really beucractic wankphesants who blame a whole race for the war.
Luckily the Lost Light has a secret weapon...
After Mags has finished hermes conradding this guy into a corner, in part because he's the only person here M Bison IN SPACE respects, we find out the deal: one hour to investigate for "religious reasons", which both sides know is basically bullshit but they need to look into this.
We get a brief interlude with Swerve, who has a heart to heart wtih Shock.. and also lies that he's pipe as like most people Swerve didn't make the best first impression. He confesses about the shooting of rung if from a third person and agrees with Shock's assetment he's a scumbag. It also explains WHY Swerve's so willing to help the next arc: he feels deep guilt for it and while it was on orders.. that makes it worse. Swerve admit she was more scared about loosing his bar than doing what's right. Later on drift further muses about feeling... a lack of purpose. That the war ending was supposed to be awesome and everything resolved.. but it really isn't. There's no real ending to life after all and as Shock puts it he's lucky to be alive if nothing else.
On the surface we get an away team consisting of most of our main cast but notably lacking Magnus, who we'll get to in a moment. They find the crystal city but..
Drift naturally mentally wigs out a bit: his people are missing, the city is ransacked and their biggest lead is now a massive dead end. It's only Rewind suggesting that he uses his sword to try and commune with the city that snaps him out of it... and only punching a mocking Whirl that fully gets him on mission. Instead of getting any graet message stabbing his sword into the city instead makes autobots go down the holeeeeeeee
We then find out where Magnus is: turns out the Council abducted him.. so they could ask thim to join him, having found him just over these decades of wars and never wavering. Essentially it's everything UM could ask for: defined rules, structure, order and respect. and metro titans are their ancient cousins, apparently created by the knights of cybertron, they can touch into other realms and such. So they decide to learn more about this thing to go on a BRAIN QUEST!
Six minutes later the brainquest is over and they found it. Great joke. And at the center... Cyclonus is in reverent awe as he used to worship at th efeet of metrotitans and gives his own version of the cybertronian creation myth, with Rewind naturally recording it since he dosen't have this version in his archives.
So once upon a time there was primus
Who found cybertron and some sparks and wanting to give it life, split himself into five gods
But like most media portrays mythical death gods, Mortilus eventually rebelled, wanting to conquer and war were declared. While our heroes won they were left in bad straights, each dying but becoming part of cybertron itself: Primus became Vector Sigma, the computer at the heart of cybertron and the source of sparks, Solmus became the Matrix of Leadership, and Epistemus and Adaptus the model for brain moduels and transformation cogs. And out of them came a new generation of Cybertronians to spread peace: The Knights of Cybertron. All of this will naturally be very important later.
For now though Ratchet is doing his usual over the top athetist schtick and Drift calls him out for being a dick: Being an Athiest? Fine. Mocking someone else's beliefs simply because he doesn't think their true. Not okay. Ratchet further digs himself deeper by outright stating Drift is so religious because he wants absolution for everyone he killed as a decpticon.. and nearly gets a sword in him for it. Not the best way of showing your not a murderer anymore, but well warranted. It's okay not to be religious, especially given how much harm some religions do. But it's not okay to mock someone when their beliefs aren't harming anyone.
So naturally Rodimus' next move .. is to have Chromedome try to braintap the giant... and it goes as well as you'd expect.. heavy feedback.. and the titan waking up screaming, rumbling the planet and leading M. Bison IN SPACE to assume this was all a trap.
So he plans to burn the lost light and EVERYONE on board in retaliation, and is leeching off their warp drive so they can't escape
Magnus has rejoined them, having turned down the offer , we'll find out why later and giving Rodimus a fond farewell, telling him to say hi to the knights of cybertron for him while Rodimus ORDERS him not to die, begging him. Their one hope is activating the drive.. but that involves swerve telling Shock the truth.. and he simply.. can't. And while this could come off as dickish.. the why is as heartbreaking as it is glorious
It's a hard choice.. but it was his. And inspired by this... Rodimus chooses to set the titan free instead of having him shrunk for his knoweldge. And it calls back to something Drift said earlier I glossed over: that when the right time came, Rodimus would save them all. And.. he does. By doing the right thing, the Titan warped everyone out of there and since he was linked up to Ore, it also freed the lost light.. and Ore is gone. Why? No one knows. But our heroes are safe and for once Rodimus has an actual plan, having relalized from this experince his winging it... has consequences.
So with our course for the next arc set, we end on the Council.. and just WHY Mags turned down his dream job
Naturally for this comic, M. Bison IN SPACE will be back. For now though it's the last part that's important: that despite not wanting to change, despite his inflexiblity.. magnus sees that .. maybe inflexiblity isn't a strength. That not accepting any change, not changing will only make him tyrants like the council. It's being faced with everything he could want and everything he could become.. that gets him to evolve past what he's been... and smile.
This issue, as you can probably wager is excellent. The art is.. not good and I won't slag it further, and it does drag the issue down slightly.. but the character work, from Swerve's chats with Shock and or ore, to Rodimus' desperation at the end, to Magnus growth is phenominal and this one issue spotlights the series at it's best: introspective, engaging and reallyf ucking weird
Next time: Tick tick tick....
#transformers#ultra magnus#hot rod#drift#chromedome#rewind#space#space opera#sci fi#transformers more than meets the eye
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