#and when we do we never see his face. it creates this alienation; or actually the opposite of it but not in a good way

[hezzabeth]

The trumpets were old plastic souvenirs painted gold, so the off-key wailing was hardly surprising. A band of disheveled people marched onto the stage, still blowing on the plastic trumpets. Surprisingly, Isabeau was among them, her face displaying a bored, blank expression. They abruptly stopped once they reached the center of the scaffold, the wood creaking under their feet.

A man wearing green tights and a shirt reading "Medieval Christmas market 3345" on it walked onto the stage. His hair had been cut into a peculiar bowl shape with a blunt fringe, and someone had painted red circles on his cheeks.

"All hail Sister Morganna! Conduit of the one true god," the man bellowed in a surprisingly high-pitched voice.

“Did you bring your solar flare gun?” Dityaa asked.

“Of course I did! I never go anywhere without it,” Revati snapped back.

Revati had never seen Sister Morganna up close. During her childhood visits, Sister Morganna was a distant figure. Glimpses of her gloved hands could be seen waving from the castle windows. Every summer solstice, she would lead a parade across the park, carried by men in a gold and white carriage. Through the mesh curtain windows, her shadowy figure could be seen shifting about. Now, Sister Morganna was walking across the scaffold boldly and freely.

She was dressed in a sky-blue and emerald dress, with a thick red and golden scarf covering her scalp, the ends trailing down her shoulders. Slowly, she turned toward the waiting audience, and Revati gasped. Sister Morganna's skin was the same color as fresh lavender. A single round, circular eye glanced about—an eye that could see and understand everything, even things that had yet to be—an eye that could glance into the very nature of people.

“She’s an alien!” whispered Dityaa.

It was an eye that could read minds; no wonder she had successfully started a cult.

“Technically, she’s a human from a faraway planet,” Revati hissed back.

The "faraway planet" was the closest the solar system got to actual aliens. Over a thousand years ago, a group of scientists set off to colonize Pluto. Obviously, they vanished, the ship sinking into the darkness of space. Three hundred years ago, their descendants returned. They were, of course, different.

Sister Morganna calmly walked across the stage and raised her hand.

“Praise be to Marduk, son of the sun, radiant is he,” Sister Morganna said.

“Radiant is he,” the crowd echoed, their expressions blank.

“Who’s Marduk?” Hissed Dityaa.

Revati merely shrugged, completely confused.

“Today we bring forward two heretics, those who smother the great transition,” Sister Morganna said, gesturing towards Bridgadeiro and Aurora.

“Heretic? I don’t even understand what I did! All I said was 'Bless Goup' when my new friend sneezed,” Bridgadeiro argued, nodding at Aurora.

“And I didn’t do anything! I swear,” Aurora cried.

“Goup is a lie! A false prophet created by an ancient snake oil seller,” Sister Morganna said with a small, tight smile.

“False prophet? The rainbow mat of crystal light has been proven to work! It balances your mind, body, and spirit,” Bridgadeiro smiled, and Sister Morganna turned to him, her one eye slowly blinking.

“I can see you standing on that mat, praying to the dark,” she whispered. “Your brother, he drowned, didn’t he? On that hot summer night? You cried and prayed! You think it was her that brought him back,” she added, and the smile dropped from Bridgadeiro’s face.

“She did save him! Goup saved him,” Bridgadeiro said, and Sister Morganna shook her head.

“Oh, you’re a true believer... you poor little boy,” she sighed. “Some gods are lies, but Marduk is true and ancient. My people have lived on his surface! We have been blessed with his gifts! Praise Marduk,” Sister Morganna said.

“Praise Marduk,” the entire crowd screamed, including Revati, who found herself clapping her hand over her mouth. Sister Marduk had hijacked her vocal cords.

“Now repent and embrace Marduk or sacrifice your light to his glory,” Sister Marduk cried.

“I repent! All hail Marduk!” Aurora cried, bursting into tears.

“Well, I’m not repenting. Marduk is just another name for your home planet that blew up centuries ago,” Bridgadeiro said with a small shrug.

“Very well,” Sister Morganna said. Revati sighed, pulling out her solar gun and setting the final charge to maximum.

“Oh, you’re not going to…” whispered Dityaa, and Revati nodded, pulling the trigger.

The solar flare hit the stage in a blinding loop of ultraviolet light. Sister Morganna screamed, flying upwards and landing face-first in the crowd, her body twitching.

“Praise Marduk! This must be an omen!” Aurora smartly yelled from the stage.

The crowd, no longer under Sister Morganna’s control, began to scatter in all directions. Some stumbled towards the fallen leader, striking her with whatever they could find. Others pushed and shoved each other, stumbling over cobblestones.

Through it all, Bridgadeiro stood, completely confused, his hands still tied behind his back. People pushed and shoved, stumbling over each other and tripping on the slick cobblestones. Revati fought through the tidal wave of chaos until she reached the scaffold again. Bridgadeiro was staring down at her, completely transfixed.

“Did you just save my life again?” He asked.

“Yes!” Revati replied, climbing up to the scaffold.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen! He said it so quickly,” Aurora said as Revati began to undo her bound hands.

“It was pure instinct!” protested Bridgadeiro.

The crowd was starting to swarm towards the stage like ants around a sugar cube. From above, Revati could see the smoking, twitching form of Sister Morganna.

“What are they doing?” Bridgadeiro asked, and there was a faint creaking sound as Isabeau joined Revati.

“They’re probably going to kill her; none of them wanted to worship an ancient Babylonian god!” Isabeau said and then she smiled. An actual smile. “I can talk normally again! She’s really gone!” Isabeau cried with delight as Aurora pulled her hands free.

“She’s gone!” Aurora echoed, grabbing Isabeau. Revati watched them kiss for a fraction of a second before politely turning her head.

“Did she really control all these people with her mind? Why would she do that?” Bridgadeiro asked as Revati began to undo his constraints.

“The tornado and the second invasion messed a lot of people up,” Revati merely replied.

“You seem fine,” Bridgadeiro replied, and Revati chuckled.

“Trust me, I’m not fine,” Revati said firmly. Life on Baker Street before the tornado had been hard. But there had been drawing lessons with her father. There had been fairytales with her mother. There had been tea parties with Dityaa. Dityaa.

“Where’s Dityaa?” Revati said as Bridgadeiro tugged his hands free. There was no telltale flash of Snow White silk in the crowd. Everyone was dressed in shades of green and mud brown.

“She was out there before,” Bridgadeiro said, gesturing to the bottom left corner of the courtyard. Revati jumped swiftly off the scaffold, ignoring the pain searing up her ankles. People were pressing in from all sides, shrieking, laughing, and, in some cases, singing. A blur of purple skin and red fabric passed her head on outstretched hands.

“Did you see a girl in a white dress?” Revati screamed in general; no one answered, and the crowd pushed her forward. People were spilling out of the courtyard into the laneways. Someone had decided to start looting the shops. Revati felt herself thrown against a wall, crushed face-first into the bricks. A hand grabbed hers, calloused, well-worn fingers gripping her wrist.

“I saw her at the end of the crowd! This way!” Bridgadeiro ordered her.

“You’re helping,” Revati gasped; something hot and red was trickling down her cheek. Revati was bleeding.

“Let the crowd push you forward; don’t fight it and try not to stumble,” Bridgadeiro said firmly, still holding her hand. The crowd surged and pressed in. Revati could see nothing but gleeful faces, smell nothing but hot, foul sweat.

Then suddenly, the crowd began to break into pieces, trickling away like water. They had reached the back wall of Medieval Faire. There was a hole in the wall. A massive hole. Beyond the hole lay the freezing wilderness of Mars. People were climbing out of the hole, running into the cube-shaped snow. One of them was Dityaa, spinning around and dancing with the Duke of Io. Dityaa spotted them and waved happily.

“They’re all going to freeze to death,” Revati realized, marching to the hole.

“It looks like some of them had enough to steal jackets,” Bridgadeiro added. Revati and Dityaa rarely left the park. When they did, Amma always made them wear her old protective gear. Dityaa seemed oblivious to the cold. It was almost as if the Duke's love was covering her in a warm, sacred light.

The escaping people were beginning to join in with their dancing.

“Look! He was waiting for me outside the wall,” Dityaa yelled, resting her head on his shoulder. Revati stepped closer to the wall. Revati let go of Bridgadeiro’s hand and carefully climbed through the hole. The freezing winter of Mars blew around her, fighting against the park's atmospheric heating system. Snow began to blow around her chest, and Revati felt flushed and dizzy.

The Duke was dressed in the same outfit from the night before. The same thin jacket and trousers. Up close, his blue hair was a little too shiny. Up close, Revati could actually feel heat wafting off his body.

“The Duke was waiting for you… outside in that outfit?” Revati asked suspiciously. Dityaa’s expression froze for a moment as if considering this.

“Sissy’s right! Let’s get out of the cold, darling; I have so much to tell you,” smiled Dityaa. The Duke held up a hand. The tip of his finger turned blue.

“Ah, the sister,” he remarked, reaching towards Revati. His eyes glowed with the brilliance of true Ai, and darkness prevailed.

Here's the revised text with corrected spelling and grammar:

True, jet-black, soothing darkness.

For Revati, who spent most of her nights lost in nightmares, it was actually comforting.

In fact, Revati felt herself sink into it.

The darkness was as soft as the mattress she once slept on.

“Oh, don’t sink into it, Dimpy. It’s not time for that,” her father’s voice whispered in her ear.

Dimpy.

Revati was Dimpy, Dityaa was Rinky.

Jay would draw pictures of them flying across the stars with wings.

Dimpy and Rinky; the sisters were so close they could be twins.

“You’re not real. You died, and your consciousness is in a plastic box,” Revati muttered.

The darkness was warm and sleepy, lulling Revati into nothing at all.

“Some of me is in that box, but scientists don’t know everything. Some of me is also in you, in your sister, and in your mother,” her father’s voice said.

“And I’m guessing I’m dead?” Revati whispered.

“No, you’re just recovering from a traumatic brain injury. Someone has placed a standard issue healing pad on your forehead,” Jay’s voice replied soothingly.

“And how do you know that?” Revati groaned doubtfully.

A distant, tiny light had appeared in the dark.

A pinprick that seemed to strip away things.

“Dimpy, you know I was a nurse! Relax, your glia cells are busy repairing themselves. Look, they move like fireflies,” her father said.

He was right; more dots of light had appeared.

They buzzed around gently.

For a moment, one of them flashed, lighting up everything.

Revati, in that second, saw a much younger Dityaa handing her a doll.

“I remember that doll. I bought it the day Dityaa was born,” her father said.

“Dityaa tried to give it to me after we buried you. I told her I’d take the book of fairy tales instead,” Revati remembered.

“Once upon a time, in the ancient kingdom of Mithila, the earth yielded a miraculous gift. A baby girl was born. She was discovered in a furrow by King Janaka and named Sita. As she grew, her grace and beauty were matched only by her wisdom and strength of character.

One day, Rama, a prince known for his valor and virtue, won her hand in marriage by stringing the mighty bow of Lord Shiva.

Soon after the wedding, Rama and his best friend were exiled to the forest. Sita, full of devotion, followed.

The forest was dark and full of dangers.

The most dangerous being was the demon king Ravana,” a woman’s voice, the voice of the maternity droid, whispered.

The lights were growing stronger, and Revati remembered something.

“Dityaa’s in trouble,” Revati realized.

“Yes, she is,” her father replied.

Revati’s mind was so bright she could see her father.

He looked younger than what she remembered.

He was dressed in the blue protective outfit Amma kept packed away.

Standing next to him was a woman.

A familiar woman cloaked in a fuchsia and green saree.

“You’re the lost princess,” Revati realized, and the Princess nodded.

“Wake me up, wake me up, and I will find my daughter,” the Lost Princess insisted.

#nanowrimo #nanowrimo2023 #science fiction #life on mars #saying farewell to armageddon #speculative worldbuilding #speculative fiction #futurism #nibiru #spilled writing #writing science fiction #sci fi ya #sci fi

[cyberrose2001]

TFP Starscream x Reader

This is for @condeeznutsfitinyomouth! Again, sorry your asks got eaten :(

They requested confessional sex with Starscream after you caught your boyfriend cheating! Hope this is what you were after, enjoy! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Warnings: Confessional sex, cheating, afab reader, GN reader, human reader, starscream is domming but reader tops.

Word count: 869

You hate that you knew it was coming. You predicted it immediately when your calls went straight to voicemail and left you on read. And last night, that deep feeling in your gut didn’t lead you on as he did. No, because your boss had let you off early, and you came home to find some random car parked in your driveway.

You were furious, full of unbridled rage, as you stormed into your house and made a bee-line to your shared bedroom. It reeked of sex, and the look on this douchebag's face when we saw you, death staring at him from the door, was laughable. He was terrible at keeping his dirty secrets.

But you had a secret up your sleeve, too—the knowledge and companionship of a sleek alien robot jet. You met Starscream a long time ago; a total asshole who wouldn’t let you off this ship called the Nemesis. Something about being ‘live human bait for the human empath, Optimus Prime’. But you had sweet-talked him enough to let you at least have some freedom.

Over time, though, your fears of being involved with an alien fizzled out when you started to confide in one another unintentionally. You would express how much of a doormat your boyfriend made you feel, and Starscream would also express how much of a doormat Megatron made him feel. Together, you both created a home where there are no doormats. And ultimately, no regrets.

After you had kicked out your now ex-boyfriend and his little protégé in cheating relations, you contacted Starscream to meet you on the outskirts of Jasper to vent out your frustrations. What you never expected, though, was to have that deep gut feeling replaced with the gut-deep feeling of his upwards thrusts.

Propped up against a dusty boulder was Starscream, with you in his lap. His sharp silver talons tightly grip your hips, guiding you up and down on his sleek yet rigid metal spike. His scarlet optics focused on your squishy body pressed against him, as well as your face, twisted in beautiful pleasure and heated anger.

“That’s it. Tell me how much you loathe that wretched human boy.”

Oh, you wish he could see you now. To watch his ego deflate as you impale yourself on a dick that’s much, much larger than his.

“F-Fuckin’ hate him,” Your voice shakes from your rage and the inability to cohere a single sentence, “Asshole, he never loved -hggff- me.”

“He never satisfied you, didn’t he?” Starscream sneers, moving a servo to your face to squish your cheeks together. His other servo pushes your hips further down his spike to meet with his thrusts.

“N-No.”

He growls and leans close to your ear, “And I am willing to bet that my spike feels significantly more pleasurable than whatever that mere human possesses, is that right?”

“Mhmm,” You mumble, but it soon transitions into screaming as Starscream forces his spike so fucking deep in you that you start to see stars.

“I want a verbal answer,” He growls again, and it’s so delicious and smooth against your ear that it nearly sends you over the edge, “You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Yes, fuck!” You cry out, and your head rests on Starscreams shoulder once his servo returns to your hip, “F-Feels so good, so much better than him.”

“Good, little pet,” Starscream pounds into you with reckless abandon, purely focused on bringing you to orgasm. His venting is rough, full of equal zest for the anticipation of overloading in you, “Now, my dear, scream my name as if he can hear you.”

And you do. You clamp down on his spike and let out the filthiest moan of his name that actually echos off the rocks and reverbs around you, with the full intention of wanting him to hear. Your ears are ringing from the loudness and the explosive orgasm that shakes your body like an earthquake.

“There you go, let the whole world know who you -hgghn- belong to.” Starscream is close behind. The ever-increasing momentum of his hips becomes more stagnant until he groans and releases his transfluids deep inside you, vocaliser fluttering and turning into static. He’s throbbing against your walls, filling you to near breaking point, and you have no choice but to collapse your entire body weight against him.

“Fuuuck,” You mewl. Your thighs are shaking, and your voice is croaky. And your heart is booming against your ribcage so hard you’re sure Starscream can feel it.

After Starscream returns from his high, he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms loosely around you in an attempt to give you some rare affection before you can question what the fuck just happened between you two.

“There, doesn’t that feel so much better?” Starscream hums, stroking lines across your back. It’s soothing and a welcomed distraction from the welts forming on your waist from his sharp digits. You whine in reply, eyes fluttering shut weakly.

“Mmm, I thought so,” He sighs, an ever so slight smile encompassing his dermas, “Shall we return to the Nemesis?”

Let’s just say you got your revenge on your ex a few more times that night.

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #tfp starscream #tfp starscream x reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites

[kanmom51]

Hi. Recently discovered your blog.I am having fun reading it.. You nice keep going 💜

I was just listening to Letter and thinking how fast we moved on from it.

The ending lines from the song literally broke my heart into pieces

🎶because we don't know what days await us,

though it's scary , though we're afraid Never forget that we are together🎶

the way these lines always makes me wanna cry . They are literally sharing with us that they are afraid of what comes ahead in future for them as a couple. The kind of society they are living in. We sometimes tend to forget the kind of fear Jimin and Jungkook must be living with. It must be so hard on them it breaks my heart.

But I know they both are strong and together they are stronger and i want them to know that we jikookers will be there to support them and we all together will be the strongest.

also Jimin wrote this song for Jungkook and no one can change my mind. When Jimin wrote this song Jungkook was on his mind, when Jimin released it as a hidden track Jungkook was on his mind and while Jimin was saying this is a fan song.. Mr.Jungkook was on his mind.

Letter for me stands right next to GCF at Tokyo.

Letter. Omg, I love that song. Can I just sit there and listen to it on repeat? Although not a very good idea, cause I just wouldn't stop crying.

Those lines at the end, JK joining in, confirming their together, so so beautiful and emotional, and definitely not for Army.

It's not only their own society they fear @youaremyparkfilter.

They know the fandom. They know the good, the bad and the extremely ugly of it. They know that coming out as queer individually will be a big issue for many fans, even more so for JK's stans (it is what it is).

But coming out as a queer couple, that will be a massive earthquake in the fandom. And again, nothing to do with how it will be accepted or rejected in Korea.

In Korea both JM and JK are loved, adored (yes there are haters, but there always are, you just cannot be loved by everyone). People that lifted them to where they are, Princes of Busan, the black and white couple, the sun and moon couple, people that see them as a representation of SK in the world and say it out loud, how loved they are, how proud they are of them.

In saying that, I think that a big lump of those don't actually see them as a queer couple, they just can't envision it, as queer is such an alien notion to them. Even with all their shenanigans. That's the whole glass closet and stretching boundaries within their reality as Kpop idols. Many people, in Korea and out, even if they acknowledge their closeness, do not or will not see beyond it into maybe, just maybe, them being a queer couple.

If they ever do 'come out', there will be those in Korea that do flip flop on them (and I'm not talking about the ones that throw hate at them already), although I personally think not as many as feared. They have been loved for such a long time, it will be harder to turn around and suddenly hate on them (although sometimes the line between love and hate is very thin). Not to mention how hard it will be for people, officials as well, to flip back on calling them the face of Korea, pride of Korea etc.

Make no mistake though, there will be a lot of hate (and it will be very loud, as we all know very well), and their families would receive a big chunk of it (easier/softer targets because of who and what JM and JK and BTS represent).

I think many would take pause, they would perhaps be initially shocked (some not so much, more like a eureka moment for them, like "oh, that explains everything..."), but at the end of the day the blow to their careers won't be the level of Holland's. Because of who they are, because of others that are paving the way (including Holland), because let's be honest here, they are artists and want to continue creating and performing and succeeding, but even if they take a hit their fandom is so friggin huge that whatever happens they will continue to succeed, and I do believe they will gain fans too because of that brave move, because of people realizing just how much their art is representative of themselves. Not to mention the level of impact it will have in Korea for recognition and acceptance of the LGBTQ+ community. In a society like Korea you have the very loud anti LGBTQ+ religious groups, you have those with the old fashioned backwards way of thinking, you have those that don't think or care either way (as long as it doesn't concern them) and you have those that are part of the LGBTQ+ community or support it and their fight for equal rights and protection by law. On that spectrum I believe you will find that a big piece of society can be swayed. And people like that who will see these two young men who they have grown to love come out as queer, they can have a change of mind, a moment of enlightenment/ realization that perhaps love is love is love. Maybe that's me being over optimistic, but I really don't think so. Because that's how change is made. That is how change was made in the West.

But, there will always be a price, and all of this is purely speculation (no way of me knowing just how bad it could get for them). It's their lives, their safety, their careers on the line and they are the ones that are living this reality and having to hide who they are and who they love at the moment, and will be living this conundrum on a daily basis.

So to sum it up, I believe there will be a hit but not a crushing one to their careers if they ever do decide to take that step. I'm not expecting it of them though. I know it will be a huge step forward for the LGBTQ+ community in SK if they do, but it's their lives, their careers, their loved ones, their decision.

It's a bloody scary thing to do, and it impacts not only them but also their families, their loved ones, their bandmates. This is a decision they will have to make together, and they will most likely make some sort of decision post MS. One way or another, I think things will change post MS. Contracts will change too. Just how much it will change, that is the million dollar question.

God, did I digress....

After saying all of that, I do want to back pedal a bit to your ask and to those specific lines in Letter.

I think they engulf not only the fear of being a queer couple in an unfriendly society, but also the upcoming uncertain future of military service, being apart for such a long time after being together for what seems like forever, not being able to be there for each other in this oh so scary new reality of military service that is looming over them. The uncertainty of this time to come and what lies ahead. All of that is engulfed into those lines of the song.

Anyway, the song is beautiful.

The song is a love song. And we aren't the recipients of said letter, said love song.

Letter is a song for JK disguised as a song for army.

Letter is addressed to JK, for army to hear.

#`ask

[thenamesblurrito]

assorted Transformers fics to rec (part 1...?)

i really do think fic recs are valuable to fandom so here’s a random collection of Transformers fics i like, with no particular theme. these were compiled by frantically googling half-remembered bits to try and find the only ones i remember reading years ago, and i know i’m missing some i’d like to include

EDIT: part 2 here!

A Prime Performance

TFP AU, incomplete, AO3. Megatron is an actor in a children’s show. this is just as hilarious as you think it is. some slowburn MegOp. i love all the easter eggs and references and the way this in-universe show is created and run?? it’s fascinating

All Roads Lead to Rome

no set continuity/vaguely Bayverse, oneshot, AO3. a huge robot warrior like Sunstreaker is odd enough in modern times, just imagine him in ancient Rome. extremely interesting premise to me i love this bit and would love more. warning for typical crass patriarchal expectations for women in marriage but nothing actually explicit

Another Gate

Bayverse, complete multichap, FFN. whatever Sam is now, it isn’t human. some REAL good body horror, friendship, and alien strangeness ooooo

Bodies (break)

IDW, oneshot, AO3. Ultra Magnus goes to therapy and Rung is something wrong. oooooooghhghghhf i LOVE when people lean into the oddness and creepiness of the local god

Brave New World

fan canon, ongoing webcomic, TFW05. a spin on BW among other things, following Rodimus Prime’s crew of beastformers as they face down an assortment of bad guys and mysteries. LOVE this canon guys i LOVE it, very very good beast mode choices, very heartfelt and very funny, i also love seeing the art progression over the years. lovely webcomic here

Burn a hole in the old grip of the familiar

TFP, complete multichap, AO3, NSFW near the end. it’s focused on Ultra Magnus/reader but the first half of this fic is probably my favorite. the overwhelm and incredulity the reader character grapples with for awhile, i feel like it’s pretty realistic for someone who’s been shoved into a weird new world. DEFINITELY did Breakdown dirty though. has sequels that i haven’t read

dares for the first time

G1, oneshot, AO3. lovely little take on a G1 Guiding Hand that makes me feel things

Dog of Law

IDW, complete multichap, AO3. the Lost Light crew don’t find Minimus in Tyrest’s cells, they find a small green turbofox. lovely character driven piece here and honestly i just really like when his canonical turbofox alt is used i think it’s a shame we never got it in the story proper

First Contact

IDW, incomplete, AO3. listen it’s only a little bit written but i am OBLIGATED to post isekai/modern girl in Middle Earth/falling into fiction type of stories and i really liked the setup for this one okay! i love isekai and this was the only one i could remember to track down

Grey Is The Night

Batman/vaguely IDW crossover, complete multichap, AO3. there’s a new police car in Gotham, and it’s up to no good. listen i don’t even do DC stuff but Batman meeting Prowl here is done MARVELOUSLY ohhh i love this very much, the plot is GOOD, and i bet folks who actually like DC will love it even more

Hazard Light

IDW, oneshot, AO3. a hanahaki take on Brainstorm/Perceptor that i actually like, despite not usually enjoying hanahaki at all, with some nice Cybertronian biology too

How to Save the World in 8 Minutes and 3 Seconds

vaguely G1/continuity soup, oneshot, AO3. how does Prowl save a species, with blocked communications, no visuals, and a short time limit? why, he just keeps an eye on social media of course! a lil dark and fun and clever

In Media Bellum

TFP, incomplete, AO3. human reader is caught up with Team Prime in a delightful exploration of culture and introspection and found family. no shipping but masterful platonic relationship work! it feels... idk relaxed? caring? i love the tone of this writing

Juxtaposition

vaguely G1, complete multichap, FFN (also on AO3 but never finished crossposting). a human OC gets in a car accident and starts hearing voices in her head, unknowingly saving a Cybertronian’s life, even if it’s in a very atypical manner. love this OC, love the whole premise here and the exploration of an alien reality from a human POV. no shipping, if that’s not ur thing

Lost Light/Rodimus

IDW, oneshot, Tumblr. the ship comes to life and has something important to ask Rodimus. i love this concept it’s very good, very intriguing

Magnus Carey

IDW, oneshot, AO3. Verity teaches Minimus about Christmas. short and sweet, i love their friendship

My Totally Real Mary Sue Husband Who Lives Back On Cybertron

TFA, oneshot, AO3, Dratchet. “Ratchet offhandedly mentions he's conjunxed. Bumblebee refuses to believe him. Hijinks ensue.” funny and in character and sweet

Mythbusters Season Nine Interlude: The Autobot Special

G1/Mythbusters crossover, oneshot, AO3. busting some myths AND some Decepticons! it just keeps getting better and better the further you read. i laughed out loud so many times, and cheered at recognizing so many classic Mythbusters bits, and i will get on my hands and knees to beg for a Dirty Jobs sequel these shows were my CHILDHOOD

Patronus

TFP, twoshot, AO3. Megatron has teatime with Rung, who... is not a normal bot. more good good Rung being something wrong

Property Of

Bayverse, incomplete, FFN. when Sam and Mikaela meet Bumblebee, it isn’t as an Autobot scout, but rather as a new owner of these recently discovered organic animals called “humans”. a very well done human pet fic that doesn’t veer into psychological torture or boundary crossing or anything (sorry if that’s your jam) and while it’s incomplete i still love what’s there, especially as the kids learn how to communicate their personhood to an ignorant Bee

Rules to Follow When Making First Contact

continuity soup/fan canon, ongoing series, AO3. listen i know many folks aren’t here for the human characters but i LOVE all the humans here they are each characterized so well and i love seeing how its been blended together across canons. this is a very clever, very engaging setup with a very grounded presence for alien robots that hits in ALL the right places for me. AUTOBOTS LEARNING ENGLISH YALL!!! YES!!! very good very good

Scrimscrim

TFP....... sort of, incomplete, AO3. what do you do when you end up with a Starscream toy brought to life? this is a hilarious premise with good characterization, a lovely human OC, a ridiculous situation handled very realistically, and generally good fun to read. reverse isekai is perhaps more of a favorite of mine than isekai!

SG Prime

TFP SG au, ongoing webcomic, own website and DA. REALLY REALLY COOL YALL. fantastic designs and inclusions and expanding on TFP lore and making very interesting SG dynamics and just. excellent.

TFP Wheeljack in TFA

TFP/TFA crossover, ongoing series of posts, Tumblr. i LOVE crossovers, i will kill and die for crossovers, and this is one of the few i’ve been able to find! there’s enough posts under that tag that i haven’t been able to read them all but what i did see is GOOD

The Echo Garden

IDW/TFP crossover, incomplete, AO3. Soundwave gets picked up by the Lost Light. okay i am a SUCKER for crossovers as previously stated and this one is Good. leans fully into being a crossover and expounding on the differences between universes. Soundwave needs to figure out what to do with himself! also features some delightful slowburn SoundRod and a lovely ensemble cast. Toaster is the best

The One Where The Decepticons Are The Good Guys

TFP SG au, incomplete, AO3. i’m not typically a fan of Shattered Glass stuff but this doesn’t feel terribly OOC or completely upended or alien to the original plot, i think this is done very well and i can’t wait for more

Transformers Recovery: Primal Launch

fan canon, complete multichap, AO3. it’s like the Lost Light but weirder, i don’t even know how to convey its awesomeness. VERY funny, VERY cool, Sky Lynx is there, Swerve is important, Riptide is such a good bot, Megatron exists, just all good things here. treat yourself and read this it’s such a delight

Twenty-Five to Life

vaguely IDW, oneshot, AO3. Starscream/Minimus soulmate au that makes me wheeze when i read it because it it so painfully in character and hilarious oh my god i am CRYING laughing by the time i finish it. petty criminal Starscream, noble Minimus, oil and water. gets raunchy but nothing explicit with an NSFW sequel

Under Control Till You’re In Front Of Me

G1, oneshot, AO3. i need more people to join the Shockwave/Moonracer ship please please it’s good

Xenoethnography

canon soup/based in TFP, ongoing series, AO3. a more hard scifi take on Transformers from the POV of an anthropologist hired to study them. y’all, THIS IS GOOD. seriously if there’s one fic out of all of these i could keep, it’d be this one, it’s just so so good ugh. ugh i love it i need to catch up with it again

#fic rec #rec list #macaddam #transformers #transformers fanfiction #long post #hey look its story isnt that weird #theres still a few open on my tab holder i need to get around to rereading and put on here but! thatll be an eventual part 2 ig #if you have any crossovers or isekai esque fics not on here send them my way and i will add them to my to-read list

[steppingonyourshadow]

Selected excerpts from Esquire April 2023

"There have been two Xiao Zhans for a long time. One of them is here. That's me," Xiao Zhan said as he ate during a break from filming in early February at Chongqing Xiannu Scenic Area. "Then there's the other Xiao Zhan, the one with quotations marks around his name, but he might not be me anymore. We all work for him, including myself."

Xiao Zhan put down his chopsticks and spread his hands, palms facing inward, in the shape of an invisible container.

These days, when Xiao Zhan gets up in the morning and stands in front of the mirror, the man he sees has messy hair; sometimes his face is a bit bloated. He wonders what the public would think if they saw him like this. He has to take care of how he presents to the public. As an entertainer, he has to care about his appearance.

He started working out, consciously building muscle, in the second half of 2020. Before that he would just routinely go for a run, but when he had to play a character who was physically strong, he started working out and the habit has stayed with him. These days, he'll find some time even in a dressing room to do a high intensity routine or some running.

But throughout there have been dissenting voices concerned that this would sabotage his previous image. He doesn't want to grow his hair out, or keep a fringe when he's having his hair done. His people always say, listen to everyone's feedback, you look better this way.

It's true that when he deliberately roughs it up a bit, some people get mad - actually, lots of people get mad. Sometimes outside voices say to him, don't work out. This face is his, but there are countless others who look upon it, countless others who make demands.

Sometimes Xiao Zhan sees the face in the mirror and thinks that it belongs to him, but seemingly also to others.

Might being known for his good looks be an impediment for his acting career? He's been asked that question more than once. It's probably a difficulty common to all good looking stars. Xiao Zhan thought so too, not that he could do anything about it. Everything depends on the script, the scenario, what the character requires. If the role is a young man in a modern city drama, it wouldn't be right to deliberately "play ugly". He has the passion and will to make the change if the script requires that he change his looks. This face can help him, but he also knows that sometimes it means he might have to give more.

Now he thinks it's more important to find equilibrium. Of those who like him, some will always be there, and others will leave. He's only moving forward step by step, like when he went climbing as a kid, wearing this ever-changing face.

Other than filming, ad shoots and some public appearances, Xiao Zhan spends most of his time alone. During a shoot, like a bat burrowing into its cave, he'd disappear into his hotel room, and not come out unless he had to. Most other times, he'd stay home. Of course, other than the driver who picks him up for work, not many people know where he lives.

It's kind of a habit, but also a matter of instinct. He reckons he probably wouldn't enjoy hanging out in a cafe or a bar even if he had a different job. He didn't go out to crowded places a lot before, either.

In a way, he's oddly suited to the job he has: once he's done with work, he can be alone - watch a drama by himself, play a game, do some pushups, think through whatever's on his mind.

Lots of problems become clear when you consider them in isolation. Of course, there are some that remain opaque - Xiao Zhan deals with those by casting them aside for later. He'd rather solve problems himself, and will almost never ask anyone else.

The idea of confiding in someone else is even more alien to him. His friends might suggest to him that if he's stressed he should tell someone, confide in them, let it out. He doesn't agree. If it's a solvable problem, he can figure it out himself. If not, talking about it just creates more upset. He'd rather go do something new.

In a way, this is the voice of experience. We all encounter an endless stream of problems. When we forget older problems in favour of newer ones, then obviously those old problems were not so important. The ones which are, even if you forget them, they'll resurface again in the dead of night, still stuck, Xiao Zhan thinks, like a small boat lost at sea, about to be struck by a big wave.

His view is that to confide in another doesn't change anything. Even if you tell a hundred people, the problem is still there, if left unresolved, lurking and waiting to resurface in the middle of the night.

He's been like this since university. Not confiding in others and preferring not to express himself conversely led to others feeling like he was a safe person to talk to. His friends would often confide in him, as if he was a living tree hollow.

On the one hand, he would always listen in order to be a good friend, even though he'd immediately forget what they'd said. On the other hand, he did his best to deflect. As soon as they began he'd say: "does what you're saying have anything to do with me? If not, don't say it, I don't want to hear it."

It was too difficult to keep other people's secrets, so he'd try not to find out anyone else's private information. The risk with being confided in was that if the secret came out, he'd be a suspect for having leaked it. He doesn't want to be a suspect, and wants even less to have to protest his innocence: "I didn't tell anyone, I wasn't the one who betrayed you." Absurd.

These days, he doesn't get to be by himself very often. Three days in a row is a luxury. During this time he and his staff try to do their own thing and not contact each other, to give each other space, in order to let him return to his own little universe. At first it was a habit, then a tacit understanding, and now just the way things are.

Whenever he encounters some difficulty at work, Xiao Zhan always seems capable of producing the energy required to wrest control of the situation.

Once he was meant to be on stage already for an awards show, but due to a rare confluence of events was still on his way back to the venue. Xiao Zhan got out of the car and raced toward the stage as the presenter improvised to stall for time.

His heart was still hammering as he got on stage. He settled it, and then he spoke. But no one could tell - he had such good control and appeared so steady - like on many previous occasions. His staff believe that he really does carry his own little universe with him.

"I'm going to run away," he says sometimes, maybe when he's a little tired, or wants to let off steam. It's just a joke, but he says it with a serious look on his face.

What would he do? Maybe open a flower shop, or an art gallery, he says. Doesn't matter where, as long as it was by himself. Back to the factory complex of his childhood, the terraces of Datianwan Stadium, or the buses of Jiefangbei. Or the door no one could open on the fifth floor, or back to his designer workstation.

If he kept running, eventually he'd be back on the mountain he used to climb as a kid. That mountain once seemed so far away, so tall, but no longer. Lots of people know the name Xiao Zhan now, but the mountain is still nameless.

But if he could actually run away, he might choose not to. He's here, now, in the place that suits him best - in the gap between the person he wishes to be and the expectations of others, moving forward step by step.

#Xiao Zhan #text translations

[tossawary]

Hi! Just wondering, for you what is the difference between transmigrating in as an infant and regaining memories of your past life later, and transmigrating in as a character who a bit older but remembering the past of the character you’re in? I guess it’s kind of moot considering he still feels the weight of both those lives either way, but I was curious about your thoughts on it.

Hey! I think this is a pretty complicated and broad question. Overall, as with any story, there are different ways to write both of those things, different directions to explore, which could make them feel very different or functionally identical. My personal feelings on this can change wildly from story to story, and character to character. SPOILERS for SVSSS.

Let's say that Airplane Bro is the first case (reincarnated as an infant and gained his memories of his past life on the way) and Shen Yuan is the second case (transmigrated into an older character's life and later unlocked some of Shen Jiu's memories). Just to use their particular situations to look at some of the practical realities. I know that it doesn't fit precisely, but it's useful to have examples.

I think that a big element here is personal life choices and personal relationships. Airplane never has to feel like he replaced someone else. He's Shang Qinghua now, sure, but there was never an Original Shang Qinghua in this world. Being there from the beginning, he's been able to control his actions and responses, and build his own personal relationships. His relationship with Mobei-Jun, for example, is entirely his own.

(We don't actually know how much the System interfered in his life, but he does seem to have a degree of freedom that's much more significant compared to his fellow transmigrator. The vibe I got by the end of the Airplane Extras was that the System probably would have let him do whatever he'd wanted if he'd really gone for it, honestly.)

Shen Yuan, on the other hand, knows that he replaced someone else, and Shen Jiu had a miserable life and then made some cruel choices. Shen Yuan has to bear the burden of things he didn't do, even if other characters are willing to sweep it under the rug of amnesia, which has permanently colored his relationships with Luo Binghe, Yue Qingyuan, and Liu Qingge. (The System then forced him to do something terrible to Luo Binghe, whom he loved very much. At the very beginning, it temporarily controlled his every single interaction with any other human being during the OOC restriction period. That's just fucked up.) By the end of SVSSS, Shen Yuan fully inhabits the new Shen Qingqiu he's created and has made peace out of the story he's been given and the relationships he's inherited and made his own, even though he owns a life that partially belonged to someone else (Shen Jiu and the System). He has to live with that history.

Rambling on about Airplane Bro for a little bit to take a look at these two different approaches from another angle...

I typically imagine Airplane Bro slowly regaining his memories over the course of his childhood, because I personally can't fully suspend my disbelief over a fully conscious adult in the body of an infant. I mean, I've read that kind of thing before, and some of the stories have been good. But brains just don't work like that. Newborn babies are such little fragile aliens, barely able to see the faces less than a foot from their face. It's important to me to physically ground fantasy (and sci-fi) somewhat to make magic (and tech) feel both believable and compelling. This is a personal nitpick.

(You could have the reincarnated/transmigrated mind/soul being held mostly separate, slowly integrating, and essentially controlling the body remotely, I guess? But yeah, the "adult stuck in a child body" thing inherently has powerful horror elements (and political elements in regards to children's rights) that a lot of reincarnated stories seem to take on unintentionally and don't always handle well. When I'm writing reincarnation stuff, I usually skip over that backstory stuff in part because it's just so complicated, and also because there are other plots I'd rather explore that I find more interesting. Getting bogged down in early childhood stuff generally isn't really my thing, reading or writing it.)

If Airplane is essentially haunted by the memories of his past life for his entire childhood, I think it would make him strange, unnerving, and generally unpalatable to other people. I think it would be confusing and scary to know things without being sure how you know them. To remember things that seem to belong not only to another life, but another world. It would contribute to his isolation, his emotional detachment, and his choice to identify strongly with his previous life in terms of personality.

And if it's a more gradual process, then he doesn't have to feel like he replaced someone else. He knows (as much as anyone can know anything) that this body has always belonged to him.

If he suddenly remembered a past life, then that would also lead to his detached Airplane Bro personality. But if he suddenly remembered a past life, depending on how you write it, it might feel functionally identical to transmigrating in in that moment but still retaining the body's memories.

Of course, even if it was a gradual process, depending on how you write it, it could seem to him that it was a gradual transmigration and that he replaced someone else. Both approaches are cool.

Transmigration and reincarnation must be such a disorienting experience, liable to make a character doubt reality or their "sanity". When a character transmigrates in but has access to the body's memories, there's often some plot device dream sequence (the transmigrator briefly gets to meet the ghost of the person they're replacement) or System interference to let both the character and the readers know that there's been a switch. What if there's no System popping up to explain exactly what happened? What if the character just has to guess based on these vague memories that they may or may not be able to tell came from another person?

Either way, transmigrators are usually dealing with feeling like an imposter. But I think the transmigrator generally might feel guiltier over taking up or ruining any pre-existing relationships if they know for a fact that they replaced a separate person.

Back to some physical practicalities between our two transmigrators in SVSSS... Airplane Bro has just had... more time to get used to his life here. Coming in as an infant, presuming a gradual adjustment of awareness, he's used to his own body. He's at home in it.

SVSSS isn't fully interested in exploring this topic, so we don't really see Shen Yuan dealing with it, but... suddenly being in a different body would be a WEIRD experience. I can handwave away a lot of brain stuff on "magical System weirdness", so sure, Shen Yuan's mind is somehow his own while retaining some Shen Jiu memories, and he has special muscle memory and spiritual memory that allows him to continue being a powerful cultivation with only minor adjustment.

But... what about things like taste buds? The physical human experience is so wildly varied. Humans are incredibly adaptable, but surely it would be weird at first to potentially have different favorite foods. To like different drinks. To maybe enjoy different smells. To dislike things you used to love. To be a different height. A different weight. To be far more physically fit. To have different teeth. Personally, I move slightly differently and have slightly different mannerisms depending on the length of my hair, having to keep longer hair out of the way. Shen Yuan would adjust in time, sure, but that dysphoria must've been something else at first.

As someone interested in these physical realities of magic, I was a little disappointed when none of these came up more extensively when Shen Yuan switched into a body made out of a plant. I think that even little things like breathing and sunlight would feel intensely different. I'm now tempted to write something exploring Shen Yuan enjoying the sensations of his super magical plant body now.

Okay, I don't know where I'm going with my rambling now, so I'm signing off. I think the weight of different transmigration experiences can feel very, VERY different depending on what you're personally interested in exploring when you write.

#goldroitelet #ask tossawary #tossawary svsss #shang qinghua #shen yuan #airplane bro #fic ideas

[ryndicate]

Bonus Scene for this from earlier

notes: implied nsfw, implied taboo itafushi (society/time period stuff), royalty au, arranged marraige

18+ Minors DNI

“I brought you something.”

Gods. You shove his chest in mock frustration before burying your face into the furs of your pillows. “You said you wouldn’t this time!” 

“I said I wouldn’t buy you anything, and I didn’t.”

You pout, grumbling about how little difference that makes despite the curiosity that tickles you, shifting to peek at him only to see him watching you with amusement, a smug glint in his eyes. 

You flush with embarrassment at being caught in your interest. “Fine then, what is it?”

“A very late wedding gift. Two actually.”

You sit up this time, turning to look at him with raised eyebrows. “But we married three years ago…?”

You trail off as Megumi’s smile grows, more genuine than the soft curls of lips he usually gifts you with and you realize, he’s excited.

He laughs, the sound coming from deep in his chest, as you strike him with a pillow, exclaiming hotly, “Well, what is it? Don’t be so vague.” 

At your demand, Megumi rises from the bed, the dying embers of the hearth creating a dance of shadow and warm tones across his lean figure. He offers a hand to you, pulling you from the bed and helping you find your discarded slip. You gape at the fabric. “You tore it!”

“It was in the way.” He’s shrugging into his discarded pants.

“This won’t cover—”

Megumi throws a fur blanket around your shoulders like a shawl. “No one is awake at this hour. Do you want to see your gifts or not?”

“You know there’s always someone awake in this castle.” It’s not really an argument, not when you’re already making for the door.

Megumi smirks and follows you, before taking your hand and leading you down the empty halls towards the kitchens. The halls are much colder than your chambers, and you wrap the blanket around yourself tightly, repressing shivers. Curiosity bites at you sharply as you near the kitchen and catch ear of squeaks and snuffling. 

“Oh, Megumi!” The voice of Megumi’s head knight booms out in the empty kitchens.

You jump, turning on reflex to maintain your modesty, overly aware of your state of undress. Despite your grumbling, you hadn’t truly expected to see someone.

“Thanks Yuuji, I’ll take them.”

“And Lady Fushiguro! I hadn’t thought I’d see you again so soon,” Yuuji Itadori beams at you and you feel a deep flush overtaking your whole body. If he's aware how little you’re wearing, he’s smartly overlooking it, but you’d wager on his oblivion.

“Good evening,” you mumble shyly, sending a pleading glance at your smirking husband, who’s now crading something close to his chest.

Finally taking pity on you, Megumi sends Yuuji off. “I’ll be taking them to my room now, thanks for watching them. Wait for morning before going home, it’s still snowing.”

You shoot him a wary glare as you piece together that he arranged this encounter, your heart thudding unevenly. It hasn't escaped you how familiar they are with each other, and Megumi has made no effort to hide it. During the first year of your marriage you learned quite early why the young lordling Megumi had never accepted a betrothal.

It hadn't simply been his fierce reputation or lack of suitors.

The truth came as a fierce shock and offense to your honor back then, as a lady and wife, to feel as if you were a second choice, simply chosen for your ability to provide an heir. But as time went on, his attempts at equal affection helped you see that you were clutching too tightly at reasons to be unhappy. Especially when Yuuji made no attempt to alienate you as Megumi's lawful wife, treating you with nothing but courtesy and all your due respect.

Your husband has been trying, fruitlessly he might believe—but known or unbeknownst to him he is thawing but another wall you'd put up—trying to open your heart to the idea of accepting the head knight as well. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know where the guest rooms are. Goodnight, lord. Lady.” Yuuji gives a small but polite bow before leaving, and you hear him whistling something as his steps recede down the halls. You can’t help but smile. It feels like the cold never quite puts a damper on the head knight’s cheer. The broader man has never given you an inkling that he knows you're aware of his relationship, but you've come to believe he's doing that for your sake, and you're deeply grateful. You can feel yourself softening to him, but you're still not sure where you stand. 

Your attention is returned to your husband as he walks up and you get a good glance at the wriggling bundles he’s struggling to maintain. 

“They’re really awake now,” Megumi chuckles, moving to pass you one.

Knowing he would never place something dangerous in your hands, you reach for it without hesitation. A warm, fluffy weight is pressed into your hands and you look down to see a pure white wolf pup.

“Oh my gods!” You whisper, clutching it closer, not quite squeezing. It looks so young! “Its eyes are barely open, where did you get these?”

“The mother attacked the caravan on the road a day's ride from home. Apparently we were too close to her nest.” You look up to see Megumi holding another, this one a deep black. You see the bright pink of its maw as it whines, its little nose lifting in search of its littermate. 

“Oh, and they were too young to survive…” you murmur, empathetic.

Megumi shakes his head. “The mother was a danger. Had Yuuji and I not seen her first, she might have killed the entire unit.”

“Are Hinterland wolves really so dangerous?”

“These are, once they reach a point of maturity they’re nearly thrice the size of an average wolf, most stand head and shoulders above a man. And they’re an intelligent species, not only aware of their natural mana, but able to utilize it. This is what makes them so difficult to defeat. They’re scarce now."

You level a curious look at him, petting down the fluffy pelt of the pup in your arms. It seems to tire, shifting and shuffling in your arms before settling, propping its chin over your arm to fall asleep. 

Megumi seems to be watching the black pup closely but his voice sounds far away. "After the death of my mother, my father hunted this species to near extinction. But before then, Hinterland lords used to train them.”

Awe replaces the sympathetic look in your eyes at the mention of his parents, knowing he doesn't oft speak of them. “Trained them? Whatever for?”

Megumi gives you a wicked grin, one that used to terrify you before you knew the man behind it, but now sends a hot thrill up your spine. “To protect the lady of our country. There’s a reason this title passes only through the sons of this land. They're intended to be training their own Wolves to obey only them and their betrothed. They can only marry once they’ve done so."

“And you? But your father hunted them all? Alone?” Curiosity overrides your courtesy for a moment, but it doesn’t seem to bother him.

Megumi shrugs. “Not exactly a man of tradition, am I? Regardless, my mother was lost when I was barely a boy, and my father’s rampage left no room for argument on the matter. And after his passing, my standing needed to be secure. Marraige couldn’t wait for me to track down a Wolf pup. Finding these now seems to be fate smiling down on us.”

“So for waiting so long, I get two?” You tease lightly, shifting your arms around the warm little bundle, adjusting your makeshift cloak.

“Nothing but the best for my lady,” Megumi agrees lightly, but his eyes regain a familiar heat and you feel your own body respond in turn. “Let’s return then.”

He turns and you spy the basket in the corner draped with a blanket. Yuuji must have been keeping them there, and Megumi deposits the black pup in before hoisting the basket in his arms. You gently place the white pup back in with its littermate, and follow along back to your chambers. 

There must be others awake because the hearth has been stoked back to a flame, and the bedding has been changed. As your husband places the basket at the foot of the bed, you peek in to see them piled on top of each other, sleeping deeply, resisting the urge to pick one up again and hold it close.

“What will we call them?” You ask, turning to look at Megumi only to gasp as he curls an arm around your waist and tugs you to him.

“A question for the morrow,” he murmurs against your lips, easing you into the bed. His lean body crawls over your own, his touch hotter than the flames in the hearth, and suddenly the morrow doesn’t even matter. Not when Megumi won’t let you think beyond him and right now.

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi drabble #itafushi #itafushi x reader

[epithet-beloved]

Hi I'm shimmying in here awkwardly but can we have some ideas for Jericho x Dixon for the 3 starving jerixon fans please

MEETING HALFWAY

synopsis… Dixon and Jericho both need romance advice, and the only people they can ask are their cellmates, who are coincidentally both terrible at it.

ft. Jericho Felocity, Dixon Roughhouse, Ramsey Murdoch, California Slim, Alcatraz

tags… anime campaign, epithet erased spoilers, Slim and Ramsey give awful romantic advice, pre-relationship, mutual pining, straight up painful pining they are both so oblivious, Dixon sorta has a nervous breakdown

word count… 1284

a/n… this is my first time writing Dixon I hope the fandom approves of me ✧ 🦄

“Well, at least it’s not Ramsey.”

Was the first thing California Slim said when Jericho told him he had feelings for Dixon.

“Yeah, but what do I say to him?” Jericho was frantically running on his treadmill to blow off some steam, a clear nervous energy about him. In clear contrast to his normal, everyday frantic running on his treadmill. “I’m not really that great at talking. You think he even notices me at all?”

“Oh, don’t listen to Slim, Jeri!” Alcatraz was much more enthusiastic about this matter than the murderer he was attached to, and saw fit to float next to Jericho trying to calm his nerves. “Dixon seems like he’s got a lot to say himself, I’m sure he just appreciates you being a good listener!”

“Yeah,” Slim scoffed, “a lotta crazy bullshit to say.”

The ghost turned to glare at his companion, but with no face, the look of disappointment on his face was left entirely to the imagination.

Jericho, lost in thought about his current dilemma, seemed utterly oblivious to the argument going on behind him. “Yeah, maybe it’s better if I just let him talk. I don’t want him to think I’m weird or anything.” Almost as if to demonstrate his point, the man’s body phased partially through the front of his treadmill whilst he continued to ‘run’ in place as if nothing were wrong.

“Jericho, everyone in this place is goddamn weird. And Dixon’s a nut — guys like him can’t afford to be picky about their company.” Slim just watched his cellmate for a few seconds, then sighed and massaged his temples. Usually, Jericho was an alright guy to bunk with, but sometimes he could be a real headache……. “You sure a relationship in prison could even work? You guys only see each other during lunch time.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Alcatraz quickly said, as he did after pretty much everything Slim told people. “I’m sure you two will find a way! You’re such creative souls!”

“That’s sure a way to put it…..” The actual murderer eventually stood up, finally deciding to do something about his poor friend’s predicament. “C’mon, man, you got yourself all outta sorts.” Thinking it would help somehow, he gave Jericho a hearty slap on the back to try and force him out of the treadmill, but this only created a bigger problem.

“Oh, that’s not good!”

“No fucking shit, Sherlockatraz!” The two unfortunate souls were currently faced with their friend lodged halfway through the cell wall, legs dangling in a janky position. Slim first pressed his ear to the wall, trying to make out if the speed runner was suffocating to death like he did last time. “You breathing in there, dumbass?!”

“Oh,” came Jericho’s voice from the other cell. “Hi Dixon!”

California Slim turned to the ghost with a tired expression. “Never mind. It’s worse than we thought.”

Not like things were going much better in the cell next door before that, anyway.

✧ ✧

“I dunno, I just, I just—“ Dixon was pacing back and forth like the madman Ramsey knew that he was. “I feel like he’s the only one who gets me, but like, what— what if he doesn’t get me? What if he’s an alien? Or a spy? Or— or an alien spy?!”

“Dixon,” started Ramsey, who was laying on his bed like a teenage girl while drawing another commission of a certain inmate’s fursona. “He avoids clipping to the front of the lunch line every day just so he can stand next to you. I’m pretty sure he likes you.”

“But what if he’s just like that with— with everyone?!” From the corner of his eye, Ramsey saw Dixon hunched over with his hands in his hair. If he got any more nervous, he was pretty sure the guy would start pulling his hair out.

“You’re overthinking it.”

“And why shouldn’t I overthink it, man?!” In the split second that Ramsey looked away, Dixon had rushed over to his bunk and was now aggressively shaking the poor rat man by his shoulders. “I finally have the first good chance with a guy in years, he doesn’t treat me li-like I’m crazy, and I could— I could just fuck it all up! ‘Cause crazy fuckin’ Dixon fucks everything up!”

“Hey, hey, relax…..” Worried for his cellmate, Ramsey would slowly raise his hands and place them on the bespectacled man’s shoulders. “None of us ever said that about ya.”

“Slim tells me I’m a nut.”

“Slim’s a dick and he does not speak for us.” Ramsey took a pause to sit up properly, not slouching as he gave his friend a serious look. “Listen, Dixon. My man. If you’re crazy, then so is everyone else in this damn place. And Jericho is the sweetest guy I know, there’s no way in hell he isn’t happy to listen to you. I’m happy to listen to you. So even if stuff doesn’t work out, look at me.”

Dixon, who had stopped shaking, flickered his eyes up from the floor to Ramsey’s face.

“You’ll always have me. We’re buds! I mean it.”

There was a long pause where neither man said anything, and the conspiracy theorist’s eyes resumed darting around the room at high speed. Always thinking, considering, analyzing. Perhaps a bit too much sometimes.

“Y-yeah,” he’d eventually stutter out from between clenched teeth. Finally noticing how tightly he’d been holding Ramsey, he pulled back like he’d just touched a hot stove. “Sorry….” He held one of his wrists and watched his own hand as he flexed it lightly. “Guess I’m just used to all the sorts of stuff….stuff my family—“

A loud crash and the room shaking made both men yelp, interrupting whatever was about to be said in favor of whipping their heads around to the first and last person Dixon was hoping to see.

“Oh, hi Dixon!” An awkward, smiling Jericho was what awaited them, waving with one hand while the other dangled uselessly. Only his upper half graced the room with its presence, the other presumably stuck in his own cell.

“Oh,” Dixon mirrored, suddenly laughing to fill the silence. “Hey! Need, uh…..need some help there?” Shit, he was repeating his words again. Was he weirding him out?

“Nah, I’m alright for now.” Wait, was he worrying him? Now Jericho almost felt bad for showing up. “Just, uh….haven’t talked to you in a while. How’s it been?”

“FINE! I mean uh. Fine!” Dixon lied. “Was just talking…..talking about……”. The man made the mistake of glancing at Ramsey for guidance, who was of no help and instead chose to gawk at Dixon helplessly. “…..alien spies!”

With a conversation hook, Jericho now felt less nervous. He liked it when Dixon talked — it was like the only side quest dialogue in the world he wouldn’t skip. “Wow, I love aliens! Like in Metroid!”

Dixon pointed at Jericho and nodded rapidly, too nervous to do anything but blindly agree and go off of what the other man was saying. “YES, it is exactly like Metroid! You are SO right! Y-you know, it’s kinda like how— how jellyfish are ancient alien parasites that’ll create the zombie uprising!”

“Really? I’d love to be a zombie, because then I’d be the fastest one!”

✧ ✧

“You know, they really are just painful to listen to.”

“Slim, be nice!” Alcatraz chastised. “I for one am glad that they’re bonding! You should stand to be more like them!”

“Mmm, no thanks.” The murderer peeled himself off of the wall and skulked back to his bed. “I’m just glad I’ll get to say I called it when they start dating in a few weeks.”

#🦄's writings #𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 request ! #anime campaign #anime campaign imagines #epithet erased spoilers #jericho felocity #dixon roughhouse #Jericho Felocity x Dixon Roughhouse #jericho Felocity imagines #dixon roughhouse imagines

[faverna]

Ok it's loki season 2 finale rant time bitches

!¡ SPOILERS and crying ¡!

Ok so first, omfg its a tree

With fruit! Or sparkly whatever things. Doesn't matter. I could be thinking too much (I am) but I think it's kinda of cute to think about how loki takes all these lives and choices and worlds and helps them grow into a beautiful living force of nature. One that creates life and great things all on its own. This contrasts the whole loom idea. The loom takes all these lives and choices and worlds, chooses the ones it wants, and weaves them into a single, artificial, "perfect" thread. It's like nature vs. industry kind of.

Second, AAAAAAAA LOKIUS

The way mobius' ending line echoed and it zoomed in on loki's face is my new roman empire. Also the way mobius turned New York alien invasion loki into self-sacrificing, god of stories loki is crazy. Ship them or not that's amazing. They are besties and also definitely in love (imo) your honor. Back to the original train of thought. I would assume loki can see/hear into timelines to a certain degree. Which means he could be watching mobius from afar which is enough to make the tears start. And does mobius know this? Is that why he waits there a little longer? I can see him sitting in a room alone talking to loki and just hoping loki can hear him. And maybe loki responds despite knowing no one can hear him 😭 cryimg. Maybe they don't even speak they just sit there knowing the other is thinking about them. It's so tragically cruel that just as loki realizes that what he really wants is his friends back and to not be alone, he loses his friends and becomes alone forever. He finally gets his throne. Which is another thing. I might be wrong but I think I remember loki talking about how he never wanted the throne of asgard he just wanted his father's love and stuff like that (idr what movie) which is even more painful. He chased a throne he didn't want his whole life in an attempt to gain other things. When he realizes he has what he wants he loses it. Similar to how in ragnarok thor tells him he was always loved, loki just didn't realize. And how thor says loki could've been more if he just let himself be more. And mobius told loki (who didn't get to ragnarok) he could be someone good. Loki finally finds the truth in these things, he can be good, but he loses everything he really wanted in return.

We arrive at three, mobius leaves the TVA

This scene hurts too. Mobius says he belongs at the TVA and he likes it there. And honestly, I (because as not him I am oh so qualified here (sarcastic)) agree. I can't see him living the life he has on the timeline. I can see him settling down but idk something feels off (it's not with loki /hj). After loki leaves he looks absolutely miserable at the TVA though. Mobius lost his purpose when loki found his </3 and now the only thing he can do is try to live some semblance of a life. Loki lost his best friend but so did mobius. And now he has to leave his life's work and try to live like a normal person who hasn't had their world ripped away from them. Me personally, I would feel hopeless.

Oh and fourth, where the fUck is he

It was probably said at some point but I don't remember, I'm too lazy to look, and I don't actually need an answer. But what kind of messed up outer space dimension are they in? Where is the TVA? Can't be in space because then someone would conquer them. And where did loki go? He ripped open space and now he has a chair somewhere. Speaking of which. My man has a chair. Just a chair. A rock chair. Barely a throne. Ignoring all the awful stuff I just spent ages typing that's a pretty awful way to spend the rest of time. Speaking of which part 2. Is loki immortal now? Because last I checked he had a lifespan of 5000 which is not "for the rest of time" sooo?

I'll probably think of more I wanted to say but hopefully I got most of it. Just needed that out of my brain it was and still will take up too much space.

#My friends arent marvel nerds :((( #loki series #loki spoilers #lokius #loki season 2 #mobius #thoughts #my roman empire #ramblings

[doctorho]

Behind these words (3)

hi babes!!!!! we are cooking more parts for this fic <3 This is a Viktor x reader fic based on the Signed, Viktor series by @buttermynutter Behind these words masterlist 1k words, no warnings

The studying environment is…much more open than you were expecting. After Viktor had sorted out your courses for you remotely, seemingly instantly after being informed of your arrival & enrollment choices, you’re left with a few lecture classes and a lot of time set aside for you to work on your projects in the lab with Jayce. He seems nice – polite, and everyone seems to like him – and he’s eager to hear about what you wanted to work on. It was weird, getting to…work this freely, having all these tools and materials there just for this purpose. And if you needed anything, you could just ask, and it would appear in the lab by latest the next morning. 

You don’t tell Jayce this, but every day you keep marveling at how good everything was. The tools were new, and when something got broken or worn down, it got replaced, no fuss. 

The first time your drill tip is so dull from friction and metal that you need to push it into the plate with your body weight, it doesn’t even occur to you that you could just ask for a new one. It feels stupid, because of course they had those in storage, but you had just…never been in an environment where worn out bits got replaced as soon as they got worn out. Everything was always used to the point of no return and then some. 

Jayce tells you to go get some more from the storage, or file in a request for a new supply if they’re out. It’s as simple as that.

It still takes you weeks to get used to just…throwing out parts that weren’t in pristine conditions. But dull drill tips were of no use to anyone, except if you melted them. Still, felt weird to throw them out so often. 

Another thing that you have to learn by trial and error is protective gear. See, when working in factories in the Undercity, that…isn’t really a thing. 

But here?

Here, they had heat protective gloves. Here, they wore masks to protect them from breathing in the smoke from soldering irons. They had targeted air vents. 

You continue working with what you’d started before; trying to figure out a sustainable way to help clean the air in the Undercity. Before, you’d used junk and discarded parts from whatever, and now you had to figure out what you actually wanted and not what you could get your hands on. 

The lab spaces are shared among different students working on different projects. Like Viktor’s letter had said, you shared a space with Jayce, who was working on trying to create a new energy source. It was fascinating work, but you both kept to yourselves to a lot of the time – he was very immersed in what he was doing, and you tried to do the same.

So it isn’t Jayce who tells you about the protective gear. 

Students come and go in the space, so you’re not sure who it is, but after a while, a pair of thin heat-protective gloves and a mask just appear on your place on the desk. You hadn’t…honestly even known to want them, because they weren’t something that you were used to – you had just silently cursed as you occasionally burned your fingers with the soldering iron, and tried to keep your face as far away from the smoke as possible. 

But someone leaves those for you. You don’t know who it is, but you’re thankful anyway. 

The work passes…more comfortably after that. You spend your days in the lab, occasionally attend lectures, try to make yourself presentable in the uniform. Enjoy free meals and always sneak some food to your room too, just…out of habit. Just in case. 

Life in the Academy still feels alien, but you’re starting to get used to it. 

And then, when you get back to your room one night, there is another letter from Viktor that leaves you with your mouth open in shock. 

“Congratulations!

Because of your recent efforts on the Piltover Reforms Project, you have been hand-selected by the Council to receive the distinguished Novice Scholar award, an annual award overseeing students that have attended the academy for under a year…”

An award?

You have to read the letter a couple of times to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. 

Then, you have to sit down.

And then you just sit there in shock for a good few moments.

This whole society felt like a rollercoaster. A few months ago you’d been treated like a criminal in Zaun for trying to develop new tech, and now these people wanted to give you an award, for the same exact reason.

It didn’t feel real.

But the letter in your hands was very real.

And it posed a very real issue. 

Formal attire. 

You did not, as it happens, own formal attire. It wasn’t something you’d needed before.

The most formal clothes you owned were…the Academy uniform, and you doubted that would count. 

But there isn’t much you could do about that late at night, and the letter had said there were three days until the ceremony. Three days to acquire something that counts as formal attire. 

You make a plan to ask someone about that in your morning lecture, if they knew where one could get something like that, and tried not to think about the price too much. The Academy gave you what they called a modest stipend (more money than you had ever made before) and it was intended to be spent on covering general living costs, but…with them offering free meals and accommodation you had a fair bit of it in your account now. You could spend some of it on new clothes. Just…preferably not all of it. 

You’d made a few friends in your classes. You’d ask some of them for recommendations. 

Letter

#viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #arcane fanfic

[love-and-monsters]

Dating a Hive Mind Pt. 2

M/GN aliens X F human, 6.996 words (nice)

I had some trouble wrangling this one and there was some worldbuilding stuff I ended up cutting, so I may revisit this someday. But for now, here’s the conclusion to the story! Missed part one? Read it here.

The twisting, winding tunnels of the hive are, in my mind, a maze. They branch off each other in seemingly random ways, leading off into hundreds of potential directions. Esthell never makes so much as a misstep. They clamber over rocks and around corners with the sort of pinpoint precision of someone who’s done this a thousand times before. And, I suppose, they probably have.

After enough sharp bends and twists to make me dizzy, Esthell emerges into an enormous antechamber. It’s not as big as the spaceport, but it is larger than several studio apartments I’ve been in. It’s decorated with those strange crystal things that Uru had in his ambassador room back at home. They form elaborate patterns across the ceiling and walls. Some of them, I notice, are carved in a variety of shapes. Some of them look more like impressionist art, while others are near-perfect replications of plants or animals on the planet. My gaze drifts, absently, and falls onto a particular shape.

“Is that a cat?” Esthell turns their head in the direction I’m pointing. Out of glittering, almost pearlescent crystal, there is the unmistakable shape of a little cat, small enough to fit in my hand. It rests in a curled-up position, eyes closed, a perfect little statue.

“Indeed.” They approach and delicately lift it up toward me. “Do you recognize it?”

I don’t, when they initially put it in my hand. But after a moment of shifting it in my fingers, something occurs to me.

“Oci!” The word bursts from me both as a stunned exclamation and a burst of laughter. “This is Oci, isn’t it?”

Esthell smiles, though I am almost too busy staring at the little cat to notice. Oci was my childhood pet, the first cat I ever owned, and one that I tended to sneak into all of my works. Nearly every book I’d written had, at some point, a little mention of a gray tabby with a slightly crooked tail. I’d shown Uru pictures when he’d asked me about Earth pets and mentioned the story, but it had been offhand. I’d hardly expected him to remember it.

“Do you enjoy it? Several members worked together to provide it for you,” Esthell says. “Their recreation is as accurate as they could manage.”

The longer I look at it, the more details rise to the surface. The crystal is streaked with opalescence in a way that initially looks random. And yet, as I examine it, I realize that they are patterned. Each little streak of opalescence represents a single tabby stripe. And the longer I look, the more miraculous it is. The detailing is tiny, intricate, and stunningly accurate. The cat’s tail is slightly crooked in the way Oci’s was. There is a cinnamon-bun-like swirl on his side formed from his tabby stripes. Peering quite closely down at his little face even shows the tiny white spot on the right side of his muzzle, the tiny bit of asymmetry that made him all the more adorable.

I don’t get much further in my examination because my eyes start watering and everything blurs a bit. Esthell cranes their neck around to look at me. Their face is almost as inexpressive as Uru’s was at first, but through blurry eyes, I can see a little bit of panic in their eyes. “Are you all right?”

“How did you even-” My voice hitches and I stop, embarrassed. The little cat is cool and smooth beneath my fingers and I start stroking it in an effort to calm myself down.

Esthell presses their side against mine, supporting me. “It was created using the crystal structures. Sculpting through chemical process- encouraging growth there and certain mineral formations here.” They tilted their head. “I am sorry this has upset you. We thought-”

“No, no!” I cut them off, adding in a quick swipe under my eye. My hand comes away wet. It’s been a long time since I actually cried, and I feel weird to be blubbering over a little cat statue. “It’s not- I mean, I’m not upset. I’m happy. It’s… thank you.”

Esthell shifts their feathers, smoothing them back down. “Ah. Good.” They watch as I rotate the little cat in my palm, sniffing every few seconds.

Crystal sculpting- I remember Uru mentioning it vaguely to me at one point. It’s a time-intensive process, and one that is increasingly complex the more detailed a sculpture is. It requires high levels of collaboration between members of the hive. The more artistically inclined guided the shaping of the sculpture, while the scientifically minded worked to create chemical compositions that would inhibit or encourage crystal growth in the right areas. It required work near-constantly, with those who worked on it switching in and out on shifts. The complex work was really only capable because they worked together, sharing their process and ideas directly with each other through their minds.

The tiny cat in my hand probably took months, and at least ten (probably more) members working around the clock. It is a delicate work, a marvel of art and science together, and the tiny details are all the more wonderful for knowing exactly how delicately it must have all been shaped.

And it was made for me. A gift, just to make me happy. So much work, just to create a tiny treasure to make me smile.

I dissolve into tears. It might be that I’m more emotional from the incredible jet lag I have, or maybe my nerves are still acting up and making everything more intense. But regardless of the reason, the fact is that I am still slumped against Esthell, almost hyperventilating and wailing like a toddler.

They shift a little, lifting one of their forelimbs to cradle me against them. Tiny, delicate kisses rain along the side of my face, brushing away some tears. They chirrup gently, making soothing little noises until I am calm enough to breathe steadily.

“Sorry,” I mumble, though I don’t remove my face from their feathers. It’s soft and comforting in their embrace, and I’m a bit too embarrassed to try and face them. I can’t imagine I look all that good.

“You do not need to apologize,” Esthell says. They press their cheek to the top of my head. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. I really do like the gift.” I retreat a little from his embrace. “I guess I just got a little overwhelmed.”

“As I said, there is no need to apologize,” Esthell murmurs. “You’ve been anxious lately, and quite tired. I expect that wouldn’t help your mood.”

“I’m sorry-” I start, before catching sight of Esthell’s expression. They’re looking at me with an unimpressed expression. I manage a little giggle. “Uh. Right. No more apologizing. I just, uh, was worried about not being… enough for you, I guess?”

Esthell laughs at that, a gentle sound. It ripples around the room, with the other hive members picking it up in turn. It’s a strange, but slightly warming sound. I can’t help but laugh myself, and it is comforting. Esthell crouches down in front of me, offering me their back once more.

“Perhaps you are more tired than we anticipated,” they suggest. I have to stifle a yawn and they give me a knowing smirk.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep. I just got up, you just started giving me a tour,” I protest. Another yawn practically cuts me off midsentence. Esthell cranes their neck back to give me a chastising look.

“We can do both,” they say. Before I can ask what they mean, they take off at a steady gallop. I have to lean over their back, clinging to the saddle to avoid grabbing handfuls of their feathers.

We snake hurriedly through the tunnels. This time, while we’re still going in all kinds of directions, there is a definite downward slope. There is a little bit of a panic that stirs in me- I’m not claustrophobic, but the idea of being trapped underground is unsettling. To take my mind off it, I watch the walls as they whizz by.

There are designs all over the walls, symbols that act sort of like an internal map. There’s no writing, but the designs are all slightly unique. From what Uru’s explained, there’s some sort of pattern to what symbols mean what, but I don’t know it. Apparently having a bunch of interconnected brains improves memory to the extent that everyone in the hive can remember it without even trying.

Esthell slows to a near stop and I stop looking at the patterned walls to pay attention to our destination. It’s another massive, open room, but much smaller than the other two we’ve been in. Several others are spread out on what looks like enough pillows to fill several home supply stores. Most of them seem to be snoozing, but a few seem to be grooming or eating or- oh. I avert my gaze. I wasn’t really expecting to see that.

Esthell lowers themselves to the ground, allowing me to slide onto the pillows. “Where are we?” I ask. My voice comes out hushed. It feels wrong to speak loudly in here.

“Close to the center of the hive,” they reply. Their voice is hushed too, but I’m not sure if that’s because I was right and we should speak quietly here, or if they’re just following my lead. “Part of the breeding caste chambers.”

My spine stiffens automatically. This is the most precious part of the hive, their center. Breeding caste members are the members of the hive who mate and carry the eggs, caring for the young ones in the earliest stages of their lives. It’s a revered position, and to be selected for the position is an incredible honor. Uru has told me about them before, in reverent tones. All castes are important, from the guardians to the agriculturalists to the caregivers. But the breeding caste are the only ones who bear the responsibility of directly continuing the hive. They are protected, almost sacred. Outsiders are never allowed in here. The idea that I’m in here with them makes me almost dizzy.

Several of the resting caste members have raised their heads, looking toward me. Now that I’m paying particular attention to them, I can see that some of them are clearly pregnant, bellies swollen, A few others appear to be nursing tiny, featherless babies, which are swaddled against their stomachs.

“Is it okay for me to be here?” I whisper. Esthell nods immediately, not even a moment of consideration.

“Yes. This is the safest place in the hive, a place for precious things.” They give me a meaningful look, and I don’t miss the implication that I am one of those precious things. I feel abruptly hot and flustered all over.

Esthell nudges me over toward the center of the room. “Rest,” they suggest, lying down next to me. After a moment, I lower myself to the ground. Almost instantly, several of the other caste members around us shuffle closer. Within seconds, I am surrounded on all sides by warm, feathery bodies. Esthell settles right behind me, exactly as Uru does when we’re sharing a bed at night.

The room is silent, expect for the slow sounds of breathing and the occasional squeaking of the babies. I can tell why Esthell wanted to being me here. It’s the most peaceful place I’ve ever been by far. Everything is soft and warm and cozy. Without any conscious realization, my eyes close and I slip into sleep again.

My waking is slow, drowsy, the sort of comfortable waking that can only happen without alarms. I doze on and off until, finally, I feel awake enough to open my eyes.

I am in the center of a massive cuddle pile. It reminds me of penguins huddling together for warmth, and I am directly in the middle. As I shift, the hive members closest to me move. One of them, a brilliant blue one that I haven’t spoken to before, opens their eyes.

“Hello.” Their voice is sleepy, but content. I can recognize the expression on its face immediately, because it’s the same one Uru gives me every morning. It’s almost uncanny.

“Hi.” I push myself up a little, stretching my limbs. They’re that sort of stiff that you get when you’ve had a really good sleep and haven’t moved for a while. “Um. I’m, uh-”

“I know who you are.” They laugh a little and shift their position. I notice that their stomach is distended and they shift around carefully, trying find a position that isn’t uncomfortable. “We all know you, dear one.”

“That’s…” I trail off, uncertain how to put it. It’s weird that they all know me without me knowing them, but I don’t know if that’s offensive or hurtful to say.

“I am pleased to meet you in the flesh,” they continued. “Are you enjoying your time here so far?” Their gaze is intense. I have the feeling that I could say anything in complaint and they would be changing it within moments.

“It’s different than back home,” I say. “But I like it.” I lie back down fully, stretching out on the cushions around me. “I was worried about it, but you’re all really nice.”

“Of course,” they say with a serene nod. “We all adore you.”

I flush, feeling awkward and a little embarrassed. “I feel… weird about that.”

Their gaze focuses on me a little more intently. “How so?”

I don’t say anything for a few moments. “You’re all treating me like I’m something important.”

They blink very slowly and tilt their head to one side. “You are.”

“No, but…” I pause for a moment, trying to find the words. This would be easier if my brain was connected to theirs. Not for the first time, I envy their ease of communication. Words often feel so clumsy compared to their Knowing. “I’m not actually important. Like, Uru told me about this place. It’s practically sacred, the future of your hive, and you just let me in here. I’m just some author, and I’m not even that good at writing. I don’t deserve this. It should be, I don’t know. Someone actually important and impressive and-” My voice starts to choke and I realize that I’m embarrassingly close to tears. “Sorry.”

They shift closer and tug me into a one-armed hug. Their lips tickle at my ear as they kiss, focusing their attention on spots Uru’s noticed I like. It’s strange how natural everything feels with them. They’re not Uru- they feel different, larger, and they’re a little less natural at the motions than Uru, but it’s a similar feeling. “You’ve been fretting about this for a while now.”

I slump back against them. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

It’s a weird question. I twist in their grasp to look at them. “I just told you why.”

“No,” they say. “You have told us that you feel unimportant, uncertain of why we treat you so well. But you have not told us why you feel that way.”

The questions has not become less weird. I open and close my mouth a few times. “Well- because it’s true? I’m not anyone particularly important. I’m just… me.”

They consider that for a few moments. “Does not being important mean that people do not fall in love with you?”

“No,” I say. “But important people tend to fall in love with other important people. You’re incredibly important. All of you. And I’m just… me.”

They sway a little, their head bobbing back and forth. “You consider us to be important?”

“Obviously.”

“We are not.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re part of an alien ambassador project to humanity.”

“As are you.”

“Not officially! It was all happenstance! Uru just happened to see my books because they just happened to be thrown into a pile of books for him when he asked for Earth literature and he happened to take a shine to them! It’s not anything particularly special about me. It could have happened to anyone.”

“Our hive only ended up being a part of the ambassadorship program because we were among the first three who located the human probe, and that only happened because the planet happened to be tilted at the proper angle at that time and we were looking in the right quadrant of the sky. It was as much happenstance for us to encounter humanity as it was for you to encounter us.”

I turn that idea over in my mind. “So, you’re saying that I don’t need to worry because we’re both technically unimportant?”

They laugh. It’s a strange, chirruping noise, but one that almost seems to tickle me until I’m laughing too. “I am telling you that importance is relative, and that all of life is happenstance. Perhaps it was all by chance, but such is life! We find the good in the opportunities life presents to us. And you are certainly the best that this opportunity has presented us.”

Fire. I’m on fire. Embarrassment suffuses my entire body and I hunch in on myself, hands pressed to my face. It’s hot to the touch. Apparently, enjoying seeing me embarrassed is a hive-wide trait, not just something Uru likes.

“You do not need to hide.” I feel the person behind me shift a little, tucking me against their body. They rock me a little, waiting for me to come back out. “Importance is a silly concept. Which member of the hive would you say is the most important?”

I peek out from behind my fingers. “You? The breeding caste, right?”

“And what makes you think that?”

It feels a little like I’m being guided toward the right answer by a patient teacher, but I take the bait. “You’re the most protected of all the castes, the future of the hive.”

“Because our survival ensures the continuation of the hive,” they agree. “That does not make us the most important.” I give them a blank look. “All of the hive’s members are vital to us. Each has a job to complete.”

“But some jobs are more important than others,” I say.

Their eyes narrow, the only movement on their normally inexpressive face. “Incorrect. There is no job that is more important than another.”

“But the breeding caste is specifically cared for, specifically chosen- how are you not more important?”

There is a long pause. They observe me with an expressionless face. I can’t read anything from them. Their tail flicks back and forth. “Your cells,” they finally say. “Which are more important- your reproductive cells or your white blood cells?”

My mouth opens. Then closes again. Then opens. “The… uh.” I frown. “I don’t think they’re more important than one another. They just do different things.” The metaphor is obvious already, but they smile at me beatifically and explain.

“Precisely- the guards are as important as what they are guarding. Without them, we would be vulnerable. Every guard who falls in their duty is just as important as those they protect. The idea that they differ in importance is a human concept, one created by your individuality. We are all connected. We all see each other and our importance. There is no such thing as an unimportant hive member. By existing, they improve the hive. By existing, they become important.”

My eyes are stinging and there’s a lump swelling in my throat. I swallow hard. The lump does not dislodge. They continue. “The children within me now are important because they are the future of the hive. The eldest workers are important because they have served the hive and now give their wisdom to the younger ones. Every caste is important because they serve a vital function of the hive. The hive is important because it provides a home and community for each member.” They reach out and slip a taloned finger under my chin. The point tilts my head up so I have to look them in the eyes. “You are important as well.”

“I’m not part of the hive,” I say, though my voice wobbles alarmingly. They shake their head.

“No. Not in the sense that you have been born to this. But you are part of the hive now. You give us joy, new perspectives, a sense of comfort. Your existence is important. You could spend the rest of your life here, simply resting and speaking to us, and we would find it beneficial. Your relative importance compared to others is meaningless. We enjoy you, and so, you are important to us. Simple as that.”

My eyes are still stinging and I’m not sure I fully believe what they’re saying. That doubt and worry seems lodged into my chest, and the comforting words only softened its sharp edges. But their words do make me ache all over in that sort-of-relieving way. I let out a shuddery breath. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” they say. They recline back onto the soft, cushioned ground. “Lie with me.”

Their tail curls around me and tugs me against their body. I recline against them. I can feel the swell of their stomach under my head. It’s a strange, alien feeling; I’ve never really touched a pregnant person’s stomach before, and it’s really weird to feel the shifting under their skin. But it’s also humbling, in a way. I feel awed by it. New life, right under my hand.

They let out a satisfied groan as I run my fingers over their belly. Several other hive members near me stretch and shift contentedly. It’s quiet, peaceful, and I feel enormously cared for. Not tired, exactly, but that sort of contentment that makes you feel lax and restful.

There’s no way to tell the time in the hive, so I don’t know how long I lie there. Other hive members come in and out of the room, caring for the breeding caste by bringing them food and grooming them. Every now and then, a breeding caste member will shuffle out of the room, going off to do something in another part of the hive. I suppose they’re trying to find something to do. As relaxing as the room is, there isn’t much going on.

My stomach growls a little in complaint. Oh, yeah. I’ve been in here for a while. My legs are actually starting to feel a bit stiff from just lying in one position. I roll over and my stomach gives another snarl. God, I’m hungry. Now that I’ve noticed it, it’s actually bothersome.

“You are hungry?” I turn. Esthell is sitting up, looking at me with sharp attention.

“Yeah, a little,” I say.

“We could have food brought to you,” Esthell says. “Or I could continue the tour of the hive and we can stop in the agricultural section next.”

“Would I be getting in the way of you, if I was in the agricultural section?” Uru always made it sound like the busiest part of the hive, which I suppose makes sense. It must be difficult trying to feed everybody.

Esthell laughs, that little chirruping noise. “Certainly not. I’m sure the agriculture caste will be delighted to see you.” They fold their legs underneath them and indicate their still-saddled back. “Climb aboard.”

Within moments, we’re streaking through the tunnels of the hive. There are surprisingly few others in the tunnels- I don’t know if Esthell is deliberately taking less traveled paths or if others are avoiding the paths we’re using to not make me uncomfortable, or a combination of both.

This time, instead of sloping downward, we’re traveling up. It’s mostly a gentle slope, but there are a couple areas that are steep, and even a couple areas that Esthell had to climb up. I have to cling to their back to keep ahold, though their tail does come up to help secure me.

All of the sudden, the tunnel brightens. I squint my eyes shut just as we burst out onto the surface.

The sun is burning high in the sky, which is tinged a darker blue than Earth’s sky. It is a yellow sun, but it is larger than ours, and it feels brighter. My skin grows warm almost immediately, and sweat starts to bead on the back of my neck.

Stretched out in front of me are rows and rows of farmland. I’ve only been on a farm once, when I was a child, and that was a small, family-owned affair. I suppose, technically, this is a family-owned business too, but it is much larger. Large enough that the rows of plants stretch too far into the distance for me to see their end. Enormous, barn-like structures sit on either side of the fields. Some of them are paneled with glass, and I can see flowering plants sprouting up against the walls. Other appear to be storage for equipment and food, with hive members flowing in and out of them constantly.

“Careful there,” Esthell murmurs from underneath me, and I realize I’ve been leaning forward so much that I’d nearly slipped off his back. His tail gives a tug at my waist to secure me back into place.

“Can we get closer?” I ask. The plants look strange, but I can’t make them out from a distance. They’re just as green as Earth plants, with just as much variety, from scrubby little bushes hunched near the ground to towering, woody stalks that look similar to bamboo. There’s a riot of colors in some areas, with enormous blushing flowers swaying on thin stems.

Esthell carries me toward the fields. From a distance, the plants looked fairly similar to most of the plants I see on Earth, but up close, I can see the differences. The flowers have thicker, almost aloe-like petals, several of the leaves in shadows are oddly curled in on themselves, like little tubes, and most of the plants have rusty, reddish-brown stems. The fruits and vegetables they’re growing are even stranger. There’s something that looks like a pumpkin, but squishes like a balloon full of water, something that looks like a pale pink banana with little curving spikes coming off it, and a deep purple fruit growing from the bamboo-like stalks that’s surprisingly heavy for its size. Several hive members pause in their work as we pass by, and a few dig the largest, prettiest morsels out of their bags to offer them to me.

“Is it safe?” I ask, inspecting one of the berries I’ve been handed. They’re really similar to raspberries in shape, but a lot firmer.

“For human consumption, yes,” Esthell says. “There is nothing in them that is toxic to humans. An allergic reaction is possible, but unlikely, given that you have only shellfish allergies on record, and the compounds are dissimilar. However, Uru brought a great deal of medical supplies when they returned, so even if you do have an allergic reaction, we will be able to assist.”

“He did?” I ask. “I didn’t know that.”

“We wished to be prepared,” Esthell says with a shrug. “We have supplies for many possibilities, from allergic reactions to broken bones to emergency surgery.”

“Emergency surgery?” My voice shoots up in alarm. Several of the nearby hive workers, Esthell included, bristle. The others shuffle a little closer to me while Esthell makes a soothing little noise.

“It is precautionary, of course,” they say. “We are not expecting something like that to happen. But obviously, we lack medical supplies that are sufficient for usage with humans, and medical emergencies are always possible. You have not had your appendix out, and it would be a long trip back to Earth.”

I chew my lower lip, trying not to focus on the unsettling sensation crawling through my stomach. “I hadn’t even thought about that,” I say. It makes sense- they wouldn’t have medical supplies that are approved for humans on a completely alien world. But it’s unsettling to think about- they were stockpiling medical supplies just in case and I hadn’t even considered it.

Esthell shrugs. “It does not matter. We considered it. And you will be safe here. We ensured this.”

There’s a weird feeling in my chest, one that I can’t quite identify, a mix of strange emotions that I can’t quite discern. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed. Esthell carries me along the fields, but I’m not really paying attention. They imported medical supplies on the off chance something would happen to me. It’s… bewildering.

Esthell cranes their head back toward me as we approach a different entrance to the hive. It smells slightly spicy here, enough to make my mouth water. But Esthell pauses. “Are you all right?”

“Huh?” It takes me a couple seconds to refocus on them. “Uh, yeah. Everything is fine.”

Esthell considers me for a long moment. I wonder if they’re consulting with the rest of the hive and trying to analyze my expression. Or maybe they’re just thinking. “You have been quiet.”

“Uh huh,” I mumble, not sure what else to do. Esthell narrows their eyes ever so slightly.

“You often get quiet when you are unsure of something,” they probe. Dammit. Uru’s always been perceptive with my moves. I guess it would make sense that the rest of his hive is similar in that regard.

“I’m not unsure of anything,” I say. “But I guess it’s a little strange that you’re all so… attentive to me. I didn’t even think of the medical supplies thing, but you already had it in hand. And everyone seems so eager to meet me. It’s…”

“Overwhelming?” Esthell suggests when I’m silent for a few moments.

“Not overwhelming, exactly. Strange, maybe. I don’t dislike it, I’m just not used to it.”

“You are rarely cared for, back at your home, often by necessity,” Esthell says. “You are not kind to yourself with any real frequency.”

“I’m not that bad,” I sputter. Esthell makes that chirping laugh sound.

“You continually refer to yourself as a mediocre author, despite your books attracting the attention of our hive.” They turn their neck back so I can see the sardonic expression on their face. It is a strange sight, given how usually expressionless they are, and I can’t help but give a little snort. “We all quite enjoy your writing. Why can you not admit that it may just be quite good?”

I shift on their back, tightening my grip on the saddle. “I… don’t know. I don’t want to be arrogant.”

“You are not. But you could stand to be,” Esthell says. “I do wish you could see yourself the way we see you. As our darling treasure.”

I feel hot all over with embarrassment. “It’s not- ugh, it’s so weird being fussed over by so many people! I feel like you’re all making too much trouble over me! I’m just me, I can handle things on my own, you know.”

“You enjoy fussing over Uru,” Esthell says. “I fail to see how this is any different.”

“I can fuss over Uru, but I can’t fuss over all of you! I feel like I can’t return the favor.”

“If you fuss over one of us, we can all feel it. And we expect nothing in return. We do this because we enjoy it. Because you being us joy and we wish to return it.” I groan and lean forward until my head rests on the saddle in front of me. Esthell shivers all over with little chirps of laughter. “Enjoy being cared for, dear one. We all enjoy you being here.”

With they, they take off again, plunging down into the tunnels. The smell gets stronger as we get deeper underground and it’s making my stomach growl. Esthell turns down a smaller path and I duck closer to their back to avoid hitting my head on the ceiling.

We come to a stop in a small room. There are several other hive members there, creating something that looks a little like a bunch of entremets. There’s a lot of careful layering of different foods, from custards to cake to fruit syrups. Watching them work is fascinating, like watching a well-oiled machine. They move around each other without a single hiccup in motion, without the slightest bit of fear in spilling boiling sugar. One will stop working and another will pick up where they left off with no hitch in their speed. I feel like I could watch it for hours, just being soothed by the motion.

As soon as Esthell enters the room, two of the workers break off from the rest. Esthell follows them to a human-style table in the corner of the room. It’s got several cakes on it, all of them decorated in a simple, but elegant way. Esthell slides me off their back and all of them look at me expectantly. It takes a minute to process that they’re expecting me to eat.

“This is all for me?” I ask.

“You don’t have to eat all of it,” one of the chef hive members says. “We picked some flavor profiles you might like.”

“It’s more of a taste test. Uru can try to recreate them when you return to Earth with human flavors,” Esthell says, picking up from where the chef had left off. Their sentences flow into each other like it’s the same person speaking. I pick up the utensil they’ve given me (it looks vaguely like a fork, but like someone who’s never held a fork tried to make one) and take a bite of the dessert nearest to me.

Their flavors are surprising. A couple of them do have typical dessert flavors, but there’s one that tastes strangely savory and another that reminds me of eating just a block of cheese. Esthell is the only one watching me, but whenever I bite into one and react positively, I can feel the ripple of relief that goes through the room.

Given the amount of food, it doesn’t take long until I’m stuffed. Esthell lifts me back onto their back and I give thanks to the chefs before we depart again.

Esthell gives me a very brief tour of the actual kitchen areas of the hive- apparently the place we were just in was more for experimental or recreational cooking. We only take a brief pause at one of the more massive kitchens, and I immediately realize why we’re not taking a longer stop. It’s busy, wildly so. Hive members slide around each other, moving between dishes with ease in a sort of organized chaos. Esthell seems to be able to navigate fine, but I realize that if I were to step in there, I would be very in the way.

Once we leave the kitchens, Esthell takes me to a few other areas of the hive. There’s not enough time to see everything, obviously, but Esthell pauses in the botanical gardens area and a sort of art gallery- it’s not like a human art gallery, in that all the exhibits are interactive. Apparently you’re encouraged to add your own art to it. Esthell nudges me toward it like they want me to add to something, but all of the artwork is ridiculously elaborate and I feel awkward trying to add anything of my own in there.

The last place Esthell takes me is the nursery. Or, at least, one of the nurseries. There are a few caretakers there, nuzzling and caring for tiny, chubby creatures whose feathers haven’t come in. They’re cute, in a strange sort of ugly way.

“The new members are kept separate from the rest of the hive for some time,” Esthell says in a soft voice. “It limits infections when they’re young. But we surround them with our minds and ensure that they feel loved.” One of the caretakers moved closer, several babies cuddled into a sling on either of their sides. “Would you like to hold one?”

I hesitate but slowly extend my arms. The caretaker places one of the littlest ones in my arms. It squirms a little, then cuddles close to me.

“Is it safe?” I whisper. “I’m not going to give it any human diseases, am I?”

“If it was not safe, we would not have given the child to you,” Esthell says. I shift it in my arms, letting it nestle fully into my grip. It makes a tiny chirping noise before burying its face in the crook of my elbow.

I’ve never been one for children, but there’s something about holding this little baby that makes me feel… special. It trusts me, completely. There’s no struggling or squirming or crying even though that’s been most of my experience with them. I wonder how much it knows about me, how much it can gather from the rest of the hive. One of its little hands fastens on my shirt with an iron-tight grip. It’s so trusting. Adoring. Is this how they all feel about me, filtered through the innocence of a baby?

I have to hand the baby back. I don’t feel super safe holding it in trembling arms.

Esthell carries me up toward my little room. I protest a little, but they insist on dropping me off. “Take a break for a bit. We can continue our tour later.” They kiss my forehead, letting their lips linger on my skin for just a bit longer than usual. Then they turn and gallop away down another tunnel.

As I step into the room, I notice a familiar yellow and blue shape lounging across my bed. “Uru!”

He lifts his head. “My dear. How was your tour?”

“Don’t you already know?” I ask.

“I know what the others saw. But I’d like to know how you feel about it.” I hesitate for a long moment, standing uncertainly in the room. Uru hooks his tail around my waist and tugs me closer to the bed until I’m sitting next to him.

“You can tell us. We’re all eager to know how you feel. We only want to make this the best experience for you.”

“I don’t want you to make a big fuss about me,” I say. “You don’t need to be, like, go nuts trying to make everything nice for me. I’d be happy with whatever.”

“Perhaps we enjoy fusing over you,” Uru says. I snort. “Come now. Remember when I returned from a particularly long ambassador trip and you spent half the night waiting up for me and making foods I’d enjoyed just so that I would have something nice to come home to? I would have been happy just to see you, but you wanted to do something nice for me because you wanted to see me happy.”

“I like you being happy,” I mumble. “And it wasn’t that big a deal. I don’t do that all the time.”

“So why can you not accept that we enjoy making you happy as well? We’re trying to pamper you. Just allow us to do so.”

I lean against him, hiding my face in his feathers. “You’re sure it’s not too much trouble?”

Uru shifts his position and lowers his head so it’s right in front of my face. “To us, the hive is paramount. Our lives revolve around maintaining the hive. But you? To us, you are just as important as our hive. Anything we would do to maintain the hive, we would do for you.”

A shiver wraps its way down my spine. “I don’t- I don’t deserve that-”

He shakes his head. “It is not about what you deserve. Our love is given, not earned. And we give it freely to you.”

I remain silent for a minute. Uru sighs. “If only you were part of the hive. You could feel the extent of the love we have for you and you wouldn’t doubt so much.”

“Do you want me to be part of the hive?” I ask. I won’t lie- it’s crossed my mind. I don’t know if it’s even physically possible. I doubt it. But that level of connection and belonging… well, it’s tempting.

Uru considers that for a few seconds. “No. We fell for you because you are distinct from us. We love that we know each other so deeply, but we also love that you are, in some ways, a mystery. Something to discover. To learn about.”

I lean against him. There’s a steady beating under my head, the pounding of his heart. He settles around me, making those little chirping noises again. Something wells in my chest, a feeling of affection and love for the hive. All of them. They love me and I love them back, even if I don’t understand it. Even if I don’t feel as if I deserve it.

Maybe that’s enough.

“Uru,” I ask. “Where do other hive members sleep?”

He takes me to the largest room I’ve been to so far. The floor and even the walls are cushy and pillowed, but there are no blankets. Instead, hive members drape themselves over each other, cuddled up in an assortment of people piles. As soon as we enter, several of the still-awake ones lift their heads. Uru leads me to the center of the room and sits, watching as I lie down next to him. “You’re sure you want to stay here?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I love you all. I want to be with you.”

There’s a shuffling and several hive members huddle in around us. It’s warm and cozy in the middle, like being wrapped in a gentle hug. Uru’s chest rises and falls under my head. I can hear his breathing echoed in the room by all other members. Slowly, my breathing falls into rhythm with theirs. I’m here. I’m safe and loved. And I love them in return. I don’t need to deserve it. It just is.

And it’s wonderful.

#exophilia #exophilia writing #monster lover #alien #alien lover #alien boyfriend #monster x human #monster x reader #male monster #gender neutral monster #my writing #polyamory

[thehunterstars]

@bisexualterror and i: let's make all fluffy scenarios with keony and lori, no need for angst in this household

also me: but what if one/both kids show up looking boy (?) and don't want to shape-shift out of fear that tony will be disgusted or something 🥺

keke: you know what bro.....

Shape-shifting has always come easier to Lori, but even Keony, for their fondness of their born features, has always felt as though their skin is made for other things, other shapes.

Their body, their soul was clay, moldable for unimaginable levels of magnificent beauty and horror– and utterly precious in others hands.

Meleable, until their feelings became oh-so-breakable, when the clay dried into something more difficult, fragile enough to shatter and yet harder to manipulate.

HYDRA liked to test the limits of anything and everything. They had to learn to bend, lest they risk shattering, until HYDRA was forced to sweep up the pieces of their messes. Breakage. Failures.

The kids can admit to themselves, late at night when the darkness cloaks them in its warmth like a familiar friend, that Tony is nothing at all like HYDRA.

“What if we’re too… alien, to fit in here.” Keony whispers into the darkness, inhaling and exhaling like the very thought pains them. To be alien is to be too different, and for all their naïveté’ on the world, they have both seen what this world does to those that are different.

Lori shifts in the darkness, green eyes bright and easily finding them, curled in a ball, the wall a solid presence behind them. They had been given rooms, one each, but being apart... let's just say that after being isolated from each other as a punishment, being separated for too long made Keony itch until they had seeked out for Lori, the only familiar presence nearby.

“I don't know,” Lori confesses hushedly, in part ashamed but mostly afraid and trying not to show it. To not know things is dangerous when you can do the things they can do. Not knowing, when you were created to possess the combined intellect of a genius and a norse deity, makes them feel something not quite embarrassment but akin enough that it burns. “I don’t care about the rest not liking us, or trusting us, but I don't know if I could take it if… if he never trusts us, or our powers.”

He.

Tony.

They could see it on his face, how closely they were watched, always firmly kept within his sightline. And no matter how well he hid his wariness, the quiet horror of who they were, the kids could read it plain as day. A face that Keony became intimately familiar with thanks to mirrors. It was, after all, an imperfect copy of their main Template– Tony himself.

“We should’ve gone to our Asgardian donor, space would be cool.” Funny thing, how the night made Keony more sociable, chatting Lori’s ear off in a way that was rare during the day.

Maybe Asgard would have been more accepting of their abilities, but for all Lori’s magical prowess, they had yet to truly grasp dimensional travel. Something to correct, some day, in the future.

“You know what they say, he got locked up for trying to take over the Earth." Lori pointed out, shifting closer to Keony in hopes that the giant expanse of the bed would feel less like it was trying to swallow her whole.

Keony pouted.

“If we could break out, why can’t he?” But the point wasn’t worth arguing about. Even if they could go to Asgard, they both had decided it was safer to be seen as the children of Tony Stark, right now, than to be seen as any more of a threat than they already were if they tried to chase after Loki. Someone who was just as reviled, and as caged now, as they had been.

No, all they could do now was be more careful.

Lori let out a tired laugh, more of a deranged sound than anything actually mirthful, that was eventually swallowed by the darkness, as everything was prone to. “We’ll be okay, we can learn how to be more... normal.” Until they trust us, went unspoken. Until he trusts us and stops treating us like a bomb ready to detonate.

“I'm so tired, Lo, I just want to be safe.”

Keony was always honest about their feelings, at least more so than Lori. It always made Lori fumble for a response, analyzing emotions always came easier to them than expressing them.

“I hope we can find that here.”

Hope was a dangerous thing to have, and yet it still crawled its way inside of their chest, waiting to grow either flowers or decaying rot inside of their bodies— regardless, it would make itself at home there.

#keony and lori: the misadventures

[mazzystar24]

Wanna listen to my validating Michael’s mental health rant?

Warning it does get anti max

Can we pause and recognise for a minute that Hope or rather a false sense of security is a long established fear of Michael’s so much so that he used his mutilated hand as a reminder that “hope is a dangerous thing”

Not only that but he ESTABLISHED THIS TO MAX and yet throughout the show time and time again every good thing he experiences is consecutively followed by disaster and in multiple cases this false sense of security is caused deliberately by max (im gonna mini rant about him so bear with me)

So here is a list of everytime the writers pulled this good followed by bad shit and acted like it wouldn’t be deeply triggering for someone with his trauma and imma point out when max was at fault

1. Attempted to celebrate his birthday with his siblings (despite having recently been fucking exorcised -see traumatised) only to then have to cover up a murder of a guy who attacked his sister

2. Set to go to UNM and Malex toolshed moments followed CONSECUTIVELY with not only getting full blown hate crimed but then witnessing a triple homicide perpetrated by someone wearing his sister’s face and then having to lie and say HE did it and cover up more murders and then give up a scholarship to the college he wanted to go to now this all by itself is a lot right? But max is relatively free of blame right? Wrong this guy saw his brother with a severely injured hand and knew the truth of the murders but chose to wallow in self pity and AVOID HIM OUT OF GUILT!?!?? WHAT THE FUCK?? WHO LETS SOMEONE THEY CALL FAMILY DEAL WITN THAT ON THEIR OWN??? WHO THEN GOES 10 YEARS PRETENDING LIKE SPIRALING ISNT A COMPLETELY VALID RESPONSE???

Anyways 3. Thinks everything is settled with Noah dead (don’t get me started on the other traumatising shit that happened rn I’m just talking about hope being fucking burnt out in front of this poor guy and him never knowing when his world is gonna implode) but then max goes and kills himself saving rosa -mini max is failing as a brother rant part 2- THIS GUY SAW MICHAEL AFTER CAUFIELD WILLING TO LET NOAH GO RATHER THAN HAVE ANOTHER ALIEN DIE HE SAW THE FUCKING UNHINGED EMOTIONAL STATE HE WAS IN AND WHAT DOES HE DO?? Heal his hand without his consent after killing Noah anyway and then once everyone thinks the dust has settled he goes and he gets himself killed making Michael deal with ANOTHER death (again CONSECUTIVELY HIS BAD SHIT HAPPENS IN THREES ISTG)

4. Season 3 he knows he’s dying and then decides to again create a false sense of hope and reform their relationship only to then reveal TADA HEART FAILURE

5. Ofc we have the latest example of the Alex debacle now I know he didn’t make people not tell him but holy shit he shouldn’t have gone along with it due to RELATIONSHIP PROBLEMS literally what the actual fuck

#anti max evans #roswell new mexico #malex #rnm #michael guerin #rnm s4 #roswell nm #alex manes #rnm spoilers #roswell new mexico spoilers

[tmnt-obsessed-ace]

When The World Crumbles: Chapter 3, Second Encounter

"Two minutes away."

The text message read, making Leo's heart jump to his throat. He shut off his T-phone and went back to staring at the katana in his lap.

Like he's been doing for the past 20 minutes since he called his twin.

"I'm at an old sawmill in Queens." He had said when Donnie picked up his T-phone.

"What? What are you doing at a damn sawmill? You were supposed to pick up pizza from Señor Hueso!" Donnie yelled, beginning the argument.

"I know! I know but I think I got portal jacked and ended up here!"

"And you are calling instead of portaling back, why?"

"Because robots and weird alien brain blobby things!"

"...what?"

"I know right! But it's true-"

"Leon, did you hit your head or something? You might have a concussion."

"Come see for yourself if you don't believe me!

Donnie went quiet for a while, then groaned.

"Fine, but only because I want to tell you how incorrect you are to your dumb face."

"Love you too, asshole." And their conversation ended there.

He let his mind wander once again, all the same burning questions he had were buzzing around in his head like angry hornets.

What were those brain blob/robot things? What did they want? How did they get here? How did they get a goddamn laser cannon?

Most importantly, who are those other turtles? Why are they so similar to Leo and his family? Why use similar weapons?"

Where did they come from? Did Draxum create them and Splinter couldn't save them? Or were they created after Splinter's escape? If that's the case, who taught them how to fight?

So many questions and zero answers to any of them. It was so frustrating.

The blue clad turtle held up the katana, noting how filthy the blade was. The near silver colored metal could barely be seen under all the grime. Since Splinter had taken training the boys more seriously he had repeatedly stressed the importance of keeping the weapons clean and battle ready.

Leo learned that the hard way. You use your swords to cut pizza one time and it's suddenly the end of the world. But when some other turtle in a badass hood keeps a dirty weapon it's fine and dandy.

A thought crossed his mind, maybe that turtle didn't even have a chance to clean it, constantly in battle, never a chance to rest and clean the katana before it was filthy again.

That actually makes sense for the mystery ninja. Definitely gave off the battle hardened vibe. That vibe was reflected in the blade's handle, which was worn and faded from constant use.

"How am I supposed to return this?" The slider wondered before a familiar rumbling caught his attention.

The Turtle Tank pulled up in front of the sawmill, easing some of Leo's growing worries. He stood up, holding the katana in one hand while waving at the massive turtle tank with the other.

Mikey got out first, bounding over to his older brother, worry on his face. Before Leo even had a chance to say anything Mikey's eyes went wide and he turned to Raph and Donnie.

"He's bleeding! Leo's bleeding!" He yelled, panic in his voice. Oh right, the cut on his cheek. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, the dried crimson sticking to his face. He hadn't bothered to wipe it off.

Raph raced over, gently examining Leo's cheek with his large hands.

"Does this hurt? Where else does it hurt?" He asked, much to Leo's annoyance at the frenzied exam. The hooded turtle was much gentler.

"Raph! I'm fine, it's just a scratch!"

"What about the burn on your arm?" Donnie asked, grabbing Leo's arm to examine the dark black spot. Leo winced a little, that still really hurt.

"Burn? What burn! Show me!" Raph grabbed Leo:s arm, adding to his growing impatience. He was fine! This wasn't needed Raph! But Raph's protective older brother instincts were in overdrive and there's no stopping them now.

After several moments of his brother's examining him, Leo had enough.

"Guys stop it! I'm fine! And that's not why we're here!" He shouted, causing the trio to back off.

"Then why are we here Leo? Why are you injured at some abandoned Sawmill halfway across the city?" Raph asked in a calm voice but his tone was stern.

The slider pushed the sawmill's door open and led his family inside. Soon they were in the robot graveyard, surrounded by remains of the trashed robots.

"What the…"

"Robots? Actual robots?"

"Like from Jupiter Jim!"

"Yup, oh and Donnie," Leo pushed the soft shell over to the non busted up laser cannon. "Here's my birthday present to you, happy early birthday!" He said as Donnie looked confused at the strange contraption.

"What is it?" Leo hopped up onto the cannon with a smile.

"Only the coolest, most amazing thing you've ever seen!" He started pressing random buttons, trying to activate the cannon like one of the robots had.

After a few moments, Donnie looked unimpressed. Crap.

"Leo-" The purple clad turtle started before Leo waved his hands, shushing his brother.

"Give me a second!" Leo continued button mashing until the canon activated with a magenta glow. He grabbed the triggers and fired, sending a pink laser beam into the far wall, narrowly avoiding Raph. The beam hit the wall, leaving a gaping burning hole behind.

"Impressed?" Donnie was staring, wide eyed and mouth agape. After a minute for his brain to reboot, Donnie smiled widely, making him look almost like the cheshire cat from Alice In Wonderland. He nearly tackled Leo into a hug before shoving him off of the cannon. The slider could see all the destructive thoughts in Donnie's eyes.

Now that he knew what it could do he was completely interested. "I am SO adding this to the turtle tank!" He exclaimed while Raph and Mikey exchanged concerned looks.

"Anyways, guys come look at this." Raph called out. Leo grabbed Donnie by the arm and pulled him away from the destructive weapon, ignoring his twin's whining.

"Look." On the ground was a dark red streak drying on the dirty floor. "Blood." Raph finished, fear in his voice.

All eyes turned to Leo.

"Obviously that is not my blood!" He groaned, why had they circled back to this?

"Then who's is it?"

"Hey Leo I've been meaning to ask but where did you get the katana?" Mikey asked, pointing to the bladed weapon that Leo still had in his hand. A katana that obviously wasn't his.

"Oh right, the other part of what happened… You see, the alien robot things were all fighting mutants."

"More mutants? But I thought we got rid of all the oosequitos." Mikey interjected, looking a bit worried and confused.

"No, we got rid of most of them, there are still a crap ton all over New York City."

"So these robots got taken down by mutants. Does that mean we have more dangerous mutants running around?" Raph asked. Leo shook his head.

"Not just any mutants, mutant ninja turtles."

It's been several hours since the sawmill fight. The sky was now dark, the light coming from the city below not the sun.

The four turtles sat on a rooftop, hidden behind a huge billboard. Donatello was rummaging through his bag of medical supplies.

Well, the former bag of medical supplies, said items had all been used up before they got here. All that was left was a single strip of gauze.

This isn't good, they have many, many wounds that need to be disinfected and bandaged.

They all looked at the strip of gauze, hope draining from their faces. Low growls broke the silence, causing the four turtles to wince and hug their stomachs as the painfully clawing hunger made itself known again.

They didn't expect to end up here. They should be in Dimension X right now, fighting Kraang Prime. Not stuck in some neon version of their city.

"You sure you don't have anything else Dee? Michelangelo asked, hugging his knees to his chest, his head leaning against Raphael's shoulder.

"This is all we have left." Donatello glanced at the pitiful strip of gauze.

"We could use our wrappings as bandages." Leonardo suggested, struggling against the ringing in his ears and his blurry vision. Donatello shook his head.

"Even if our wrappings were big enough to cover the major wounds, we can't use them because they're filthy dirty. The wounds will get infected in no time." Donatello's voice was small, almost broken sounding.

Raphael groaned, rubbing his face with one hand. The other was holding Michelangelo close to him.

"We have to have the worst luck in the damn universe!" He nearly yelled. Donatello flinched at the sudden increase in volume, the wound on his forehead a reminder to be quiet, he might have a concussion.

"Sorry Don," Raphael whispered as the purple clad turtle nodded and leaned against Leonardo. "First the Kraang are planning another invasion and we end up stuck here in limbo, with no food, no medical supplies, just waiting to keel over and die while Kraang Prime mutates New York City! Again! Fuck us I guess!" Raphael angrily whispered, struggling to keep his voice down for Donatello's sake.

They can't go on like this for much longer. Someone would have to find some medical supplies and or food.

Leonardo sighed, gently moving his younger brother so he too was leaning against Raphael. He stood up, his bad knee aching from the strain. But he put on a brave face. Because that's what he's supposed to do as the leader and the eldest. Take care of the younger siblings.

"I'll go look for food and medical supplies." He said, forcing his exhaustion and pain down and smothering it. Like he does with everything.

Just as he was about to leave, a clammy hand grabbed his wrist.

"No, I'm going." Michelangelo stated, it wasn't a question. He said it like he said that the sky is blue.

Leonardo shook his head, ignoring how dizzy that made him.

"Absolutely not! You have to stay here with Raph and Donnie!" He whispered. Michelangelo stood up on his own trembling legs, eyes burning with fire.

"Why? So you can run yourself ragged?"

"I'm the oldest and your leader, it's my responsibility to look after the team."

"Even when you're about to pass out? Even when your knee is hurting real bad, and don't lie I saw you limping!"

"Mikey I won't be long, you can stay here and rest-"

"What if something happens to you? Leo please don't be stubborn this one time, my injuries are the least severe I'll go get the stuff!"

"Least severe? That crack in your shell looks pretty severe to me!"

"You can barely stand! I get it, you're the leader but that doesn't mean you have to keep hurting yourself!"

"Mikey-"

"Leo. Sit. Down." Michelangelo stated, pulling out his nunchucks. It was a threat, sit down or I'll make you. Leonardo's eyes narrowed, he knew Michelangelo wouldn't act on the threat. It was still jarring to see the normally playful jokester so serious. And that seriousness was directed at Leonardo, not at Kraang so that was even weirder.

"Just listen to him Leo, you need to rest too." Donatello mumbled, grabbing Leonardo's hand with his own.

"Yeah, fearless, sit your ass down." Raohael added, shooting a warning glare at the blue clad turtle. "You've barely slept for what? Maybe two hours total since we first heard about the invasion, not like you were sleeping much anyways. You haven't eaten anything, your leg is killing you and we left our T-phones at the lair so you have no way to contact us if something goes wrong." Raphael hissed at the worn out leader.

"What if something goes wrong while Mikey is out? At least let me go with him so he has some backup."

"Sit down!" All three younger turtles growled at their brother in perfect sync, giving the self sacrificial idiot no choice but to sit back down. They were too tired to put up with that bullshit tonight. Michelangelo gave him a hug as an apology.

"If I'm not back in two hours then you can come look for me." Michelangelo said, jumping down from the roof onto a fire escape.

"Good luck! I'll keep the martyr here so he can rest." Raphael called, ignoring the small hey from Leonardo.

Once the orange clad turtle was out of sight Donnie started whispering.

"Is this actually a good idea to send Mikey out alone in a strange city?" He asked. Just as the words left his mouth, Michelangelo fell from the fire escape. He screamed as he landed inside a dumpster, scaring away a feral cat.

The trio sat in stunned silence for a moment.

"He'll be fine…I hope."

Finding medical supplies was so much harder than finding food would be. He could just steal food from a restaurant and no one would be the wiser. But apparently it was too much to ask for all the buildings he checked to have a first aid kit lying around somewhere.

Either the orange clad turtle missed them because he was so tired, or the people of this city had super healing so fast that first aid kits were useless.

He hoped it was the second option, that sounded way more entertaining.

Speaking of the city, it was different from his own. This city was bright, thousands of colorful lights chasing away shadows even into the night. And it was busy too, with so many people crowding the streets. His version of New York was busy too but not to this scale.

All that meant that he was struggling to stay hidden and all ninja like. He looked at his next target, a convenience store. Surely there will be a first aid kit or two in there.

As he was about to search the store, a strange vehicle drove by on the street below. Michelangelo ducked down, glancing at the vehicle from the rooftop. It kinda looked like a giant turtle on wheels. And why was a Kraang cannon being pulled behind it?

"What the hell is that?" The turtle mused to himself, going silent when the vehicle stopped.

A familiar looking turtle stepped out onto the street, making gestures with his hands while he talked. Although from where Michelangelo was sitting, he couldn't hear any of the words over the buzz of the city.

That was the same turtle that had shown up at the sawmill. Probably this dimension's Leonardo, if the blue mask was anything to go by.

Michelangelo snickered, hoping that this was an alternate version of his eldest brother. Oh that would be so incredibly funny.

Two more turtles followed this "other Leo," one wearing a purple bandana over his head, along with what looked like goggles. On his head. He was absolutely covered head to toe in tech, yup definitely Donatello.

The other was sporting an orange mask so similar to his own. His alternate self. Michelangelo focused on his counterpart, noticing the hot pink and teal streaks on his shell.

The fourth turtle got out of the vehicle, making Michelangelo's blood run cold. The fourth turtle was huge with a big spiky shell on his back. The massive turtle was wearing a red bandana. Was this Raphael? He looked a thousand times more intimidating than his short angry brother could ever hope to be.

Somehow, Michelangelo was reminded of Slash, the massive mutant turtle that was once Raphael's beloved pet. He remembered when he first met Slash, when the mutant tried to tear him limb from limb. And although Slash has turned over a new leaf and is now a loyal friend, Michelangelo can't help but feel a little uneasy around the larger turtle.

And this version of Raphael is reawakening the uneasy feelings.

The orange clad turtle watched the three smaller turtles a little bit nervously now. It looks like other Leonardo and other Donatello were talking about something, while their version of Michelangelo went over to talk to the very big Raphael.

"Ugh what are they saying?" He whispered. He had to get closer. He carefully climbed down from the roof, sticking to the few shadows he could find until he ended up in a dark alleyway close by. Michelangelo ducked behind some trashed furniture and listened in. Technically it was rude to eavesdrop but Leonardo isn't here to tell him no.

"-could check the Hidden City Library, see if they got anything on alien brain creatures." Other Donatello said, tone almost dripping with sarcasm at the last few words. Other Leonardo scoffed and crossed his arms.

"If I didn't know any better Donald I would think that you don't believe me. Me! Your own twin!" The blue clad turtle stated, fake offense in his voice. Leonardo and Donatello were twins in this dimension?

"Well Nardo you do have a track record for "exaggerating" The genius said, air quotes around exaggerating.

"And you have a track record for being a dick."

"Real mature, when you don't have a comeback you resort to petty name calling."

"Yeah but it works and you know it…Dee Dee." Other Donatello's eye twitched. It was at that point that Michelangelo stopped listening, eyes zeroing in on the blue clad turtle.

There was a clean white bandage on his cheek and another wrapped around his arm.

That meant that these alternate turtles had medical supplies! Fucking finally! Then he just has to rob the nearest restaurant and get back to his brothers!

If the turtle had to guess, the supplies were most likely inside of the turtles' ride. However there were four well rested, clean, non injured and not starving turtles between Michelangelo and the medical supplies.

'Maybe I should've let Leo come.' He thought before quickly shaking it away. Leonardo, despite how much he'll deny it, needed to rest just as much as the rest of them. He can do this alone.

Right as the thought crossed his mind, as if the universe decided to screw with him for even thinking that, he bumped into a nearby chair, causing it and the several boxes stacked on top of it to topple over with a loud crash. The four turtles looked over at his alley hiding spot, making Michelangelo gulp nervously.

Apparently, no, he cannot do this alone.

"Is something there Don?" Other Raphael asked, voice a low whisper. Other Donatello lowered his goggles, were they x-ray goggles?

"What the? This is weird…" The purple clad turtle said, genuine confusion in his voice.

"What is it?" Other Michelangelo piped up " A g-ghost."

"No but it's just a black, shapeless, shadow. Can't even tell what it is." The four looked stunned. Even Michelangelo was stunned. X-ray goggles aren't supposed to do that.

"Well whatever it is, it's about to get its ass kicked all the way to New Jersey!" Michelangelo started to panic, he didn't want to go to New Jersey! New Jersey sucks!

The four alternate turtles drew their weapons, closing in on poor Michelangelo. He was going to get pummeled and no one was going to know because he doesn't have his T-phone! Leonardo was right!

'Calm down Mikey!' He thought to himself, nunchucks in his hands. 'Just come up with a plan to not get dead and you'll be fine!'

He shut his eyes for a moment, thoughts swirling. After a few seconds an idea came to mind.

A very stupid idea, that would probably get shot down by his brothers. But they aren't here to tell him no.

That is not a good thing.

He crept underneath a fire escape, staying cloaked in darkness. Moving silently he climbed up the fire escape and sat on the ledge.

His plan was simple: run for your goddamn life!

His eyes went white and he jumped off the fire escape, landing behind the turtles. The orange clad turtle broke off into a full sprint, making a beeline for the turtle shaped vehicle. He could hear the four turtles yelling at him but he didn't care. The vehicle and medical supplies inside grew closer and closer.

Suddenly a burning hot chain wrapped around his stomach, yanking him backwards and flinging the poor turtle into a set of concrete stairs. Michelangelo winced, that fucking hurt!

He got up, ignoring how his side was throbbing in white pain. His nunchucks were spinning as fire burned in his eyes.

A flash of red and a yell caught his attention, giving him a second's notice to duck. He started running, that's all he can do.

Blue light glowed to his left, nunchucks deflecting the sharp blades of twin katanas as he climbed onto one of the rooftops again while he kept screaming, avoiding the glowing attacks while also trying to circle back to the desperately needed medical supplies. His family needs them, and surely these turtles can afford to go without for a bit.

A red fist collided with his head, knocking him down. The orange clad turtle's vision started to blur.

Suddenly a bright purple drill formed above him, other Donatello bearing a frenzied smirk as he brought the drill down. All poor Michelangelo could do was raise his arms to protect his face.

The drill slammed into him, violet sparks of electricity dancing all over his body while he screamed in pain and fear before he was knocked off the rooftop. He landed on an old car, making the alarm go off. He tried to move his limbs but they felt heavy and numb, static buzzing off him.

Michelangelo just lay there, whimpering as he tried to move. His brothers were depending on him! He had to get up and get going!

Cold metal nudged his cheek, his blurry baby blue eyes drifting upwards and locking with that of this alternate version of Leonardo.

"You're one of the turtles from the sawmill." He said, waiting for Michelangelo to either confirm or deny it. He nodded a bit, still trying to get feeling back in his limbs.

"Dude what the hell? I thought you were cool and then you turn around and tried to steal the Turtle Tank!" The slider yelled, as his own family were starting to catch up.

Michelangelo whimpered harder, wanting to curl inside his shell and hide.

"Mhm sorry Leo." He slurred, "Just needed med stuff…" The turtle in front of him lowered the blade, eyes wide.

"How do you know my name?" He asked.

Suddenly, something struck the blue clad turtle in the neck. He yanked the offending object out and stared at it.

Both turtle's faces went pale. It was a blow dart.

Other Leonardo staggered, the fast acting drugs taking effect. And Michelangelo lay helpless on the roof of the car, trying harder to get feeling back in his limbs so he could help the other turtle.

"Leo no!" He shrieked, watching as the blue clad turtle face planted on the ground.

A large silhouette appeared and scooped the unconscious turtle into its arms. It slung other Leonardo over its shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Yes, this will do nicely." The voice said before turning to leave.

"Let him go!" Michelangelo shouted, one arm finally cooperating enough to throw a shuriken at the silhouette. It screamed in pain before turning to him. It looked him over, making his empty stomach churn.

"You look absolutely pathetic, not even worthy of being prepared in my kitchen." The voice stated, filled with disgust. It turned to leave again while Michelangelo squirmed.

"Come back and fight me, you coward!" He yelled, struggling to stay awake.

"Why should I bother?" The voice asked. "I only use the freshest, highest quality ingredients and you are anything but." Ingredients…Oh no, oh god no.

"NO! NO! NO! LET HIM GO!" The turtle cried as the silhouette left him behind and his desperate pleas ignored, taking other Leonardo with him.

The turtle was loaded into a truck, where other Leonardo's three brothers were also unconscious. The silhouette drove off, leaving Michelangelo to scream, hot tears pouring from his eyes.

What had he done?

#tmnt crossover #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #crossover #teeange mutant ninaj turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Who would win, Bartimaeus or an average strength giftless Twilight vampire?

Ooh, interesting question with a two-fold answer.

The Other Place, Spirits, and the World of Twilight as We Know It

The Bartimaeus Trilogy is one of those worlds that actually does make sense in the Twilight context. Not so much in that we'd see the history of the Bartimaeus universe in the Twilight world (I'm not sure the Volturi would allow humanity to get away with summoning alien beings to do their bidding that can cause mass calamity and a simple mispronunciation) but that I see no reason the Other Place and the Twilight universe can't coexist.

Perhaps the Twilight earth simply never tapped into The Other Place in the way the other Earth does, or they did, but knowledge of how to summon spirits died out with some culture ages ago due to some catastrophe/the Volturi going "OH HELL NO".

But the reason I bring this up is there's a fundamental question here: how do vampires in that mashup relate to The Other Place?

Given everything we see of Twilgiht, the answer appears to be that it doesn't. While in the Bartimaeus universe there are people who face side effects due to proximity of The Other Place (physical deformities, uptick in resistance to magic, whatever the hell is going on with the werewolves) without any indication of spirits for at least a thousand years if we're assuming the Volturi put an axe to that and rewrote history, vampires being something spirit related is a little questionable.

Possible, if it's some side effect that spun out of control and is infectious with a single victim, but unlikely.

That Was... Weird, Muffin

I brought it up for a reason and that reason is golems.

Of the enemies we see Bartimaeus face we have a few groups. Humans with resistance who are otherwise immune to what he'd throw at them, other spirits, and golems who are a little complicated.

Humans with resistance are only good in that they can resist him. They still need to use things like molars, artifacts, and other spirits in order to actually attack a spirit. It just means that Bartimaeus can't magically swat Kitty like a fly.

Golems are interesting in that they're also created via ties to The Other Place but that they are specifically a kind of anti-spirit weapon being creatures of earth and water where spirits like Bartimaeus are fire and air. Because of this, a single touch is enough to drain a spirit of all life and you see Bartimaeus terrified of even getting near these things.

So, what are vampires?

If vampires were due to some Other Place nonsense, are they too creatures of earth and darkness? Unclear. Depends on what we decide the origin of vampires really is.

For the sake of this ask I'm going to say no.

Spirit vs. Vampire

Before we get to Bartimaeus, let's look at your average spirit versus your average vampire.

The spirit, given some level of strength, probably wins. They can shift form into a vampire themselves, including the physical form of the vampire teeth, and they are such that if powerful enough our physical reality starts bending to the Other Place.

The laws of physics no longer apply, matter changes form, so instead of a vampire you suddenly have a puddle of goo.

Of course, you have to be very powerful for that, but even something like a djinn or higher can probably shift into a vampire, use the vampire teeth, then light their opponent on fire.

Not to mention that vampire gifts are almost guaranteed not to work on spirits as they're not physical bodies with physical human brains.

Bartimaeus vs. Vampire

Bartimaeus wins and not just because of the above.

Bartimaeus wins because he has a knack for picking and choosing his battles. Specifically, we see time and again in canon, Bartimaeus purposefully avoids fighting when he can help it and almost always knows when he's in over his head.

He's not the strongest (see Jabor), not the smartest (see Faquarl), but he also knows this, and he has absolutely no shame in running away and getting out while the going is good. He does the bare minimum/out of the box method to complete his task and always looks out for his own hide.

This means unless he has absolutely no choice but to fight a vampire (he doesn't and I can't see that he ever would), he's going to go "NOPE" and bravely run away.

It's why he's still here after five-thousand years.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #the bartimaeus trilogy #bartimaeus meta #bartimaeus headcanon #bartimaeus #the volturi #meta #headcanon #opinion

[comicbookhyperfixationtime]

Uncanny X-Men #195- It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

Last Issue Recap: A routine stakeout on Juggernaut turned nasty when Nimrod showed up and started blasting. He was barely driven off thanks to a clutch move by Rogue, but the X-men's decision to let Juggey go without a fight has landed them in even hotter water with the public. Meanwhile, Ruskies are scheming and Storm's off in Africa.

This cover is so amazingly dumb and beautiful and I love it. Like, its literally Wolverine about to murder a child. Everyone's expression is gold. Of course its a fakeout, Wolverine isn't going to murder a child this issue, but I'll be damned if its not effective at grabbing my attention. I vaguely recognize these kids from a Thor comic from the same era they should up in but I'll be damned if I remember a thing about them. I guess Marvel was pushing them really hard at the time. Edit: after doing some research I have discovered the Power Pack was actually created by one of the Marvel comics editors, which explains a lot about their seeming omnipresence.

The opening narration gives a brief summation of who these little rascals are (they are called Power Pack, a quartet of siblings who were given powers by a dying alien Green Lantern style) which explains them I guess but also doesn't explain them at all.

We see the Power Pack in bed with their parents, awoken by the sound of thunder. Because, its a Dark and Stormy Night, get it? What a waste of a good title, why would you name an X-men story "It Was a Dark and Stormy Night" when Storm isn't even there?! A great pun, flushed down the drain.

I think the following dialogue is a good example of Claremont's limits as I writer. Even though I can tell he's trying to simplify his style for kids, this dialogue is still quite longwinded and a bit too verbose. Of course, struggling to write convincing child dialogue isn't a Claremont specific problem, I don't recall Power Pack sounding any more natural in the Thor comic they showed up in. But in the Thor comic, the characters I actually cared about showed up pretty quickly. We spend the first third of this comic with these kids as the only focus, so the awkward dialogue starts to really grate. Doesn't help that the art on the kids is not so hot, their bodies are sometimes weirdly proportioned, and their faces misshapen. Kids are clearly not John Romita Jr's wheelhouse, although he's a great artist.

The Power Pack realizes their parents and neighbors have forgotten who they are, and what's more, all their possessions have been cleared out like they never existed in the first place! This is an excellent setup that will quickly become an extremely stupid plot hole.

The phonetic accent is... certainly a choice. It's Claremont in the 80s, could be worse I guess. But more importantly, these children call themselves the Power Pack... and their their last name is "Powers"... and they don't even wear masks! Wikipedia tells me they had secret identities, how the heck did they keep that up?!

The kid's parents are about to call the police, so they make a run for it, using their powers to blast a hole through their apartment building and causing massive property damage rather than leaving like normal people, I guess because we needed to establish their powers. This doesn't really help me understand their power sets at all, though. Also their personalities are pretty much interchangeable, except for perhaps the youngest, so no matter how many times they repeat each other's names I'm not going to remember them. Best I can gather, the youngest girl absorbs (matter? energy?) to make things explode, the brown haired boy turns into mist, the older girl has Canonball powers but with the pansexual flag, and the oldest boy does gravity manipulation?

The children decide that this series of unfortunate events must be the doing of Annalee, a Morlock who'd previously attempted to forcefully adopted them, with the help of another Morlock with memory manipulation powers. You might say to yourself, "but Fix, this makes no sense because if the Morlocks could access the Powers' house and steal all their stuff why wouldn't they have just kidnapped the kids as well?" You would be right! Unfortunately, so are the kids.

The kids decide to confront the Morlock's themselves, rather than try to find help in the city where literally every other person is either a superhero or related to them, which does seem like the sort of idiotic action a child would take.

The X-men, Spiderman, Cloak and Dagger and Thor?! Jesus, these kids must know everyone in the MC(omics)U! Hell, give them a few more issues and they may meet Jesus too!

The kids enter the sewers, quipping the whole time. Actually, they've been quipping throughout the entire issue; never let it be said that a mood-killing sarcastic comment in a Marvel Movie is not comics accurate. They're confronted by the Morlocks who (unsurprisingly) overpower them quickly. Only the youngest, Katie, escapes, but not before being disfigured by one of Morlocks, Masque, who has plastic surgery powers. The damage to her face is hidden from us and from the way Masque's fingers stick to Katie's flesh in a previous panel like it's hot play-dough, it must be pretty nasty. I kind of enjoyed the brief body horror here, its definitely an interesting idea, I want to see Masque again used to her full potential.

Exactly my reaction if some stranger approached me talking like that.

We finally cut to the X-Mansion and Kitty having her morning breakfast/midnight snack, where its revealed she apparently does some work for the Power Pack's father. Not sure if she's a student assistant or an intern or what have you, especially since she's supposed to be a highschooler, but it doesn't matter because this will never come up again!

She living my life fr fr. Love the little detail of the milk missing the bowl.

We finally get a reveal for what Masque did to Katie's face and I'm going to be honest it really doesn't look that bad. Nowhere near as horrifying as Kitty's mullet.

Kitty and some of the other of the X-men rescue Katie. Not Nightcrawler, though "he's on another mission." Boooooo. I might as well just stop reading. Unfortunately, my completionist tendencies urge me onward, although I expect the next issue to be a totally Nightcrawler-centric or I'm going to write a letter to the editor.

Rachel recaps the first half of the issue via telepathy for the X-men, who vow to help the little tyke.

No she's fucking not, she was literally introduced kidnapping torturing and attempting to rape Angel! I seriously don't get how the X-men manage to gloss over that in all of her subsequent appearances, or why she's ever written as remotely sympathetic (aside from the fact Claremont wants to get stepped on). I'd put her on par with Mastermind for deplorable levels.

Kitty is unanimously elected Team Leader. You got to love a team of people so dysfunctional that the teenager is their current most competent member. This does explain why the best boy has been so unceremoniously left out this week, as Nightcrawler probably wouldn't enact a plan as boneheaded as "rush head-on into Morlock territory with one of the children you're trying to rescue. I can't blame her, though, she is literally a child.

We get a cute little character moment where Wolverine comforts and bonds with a scared Katie that I kind of mentally glossed over because I don't care. It's not that it's poorly written or anything (although it is longwinded), its just I'm really not invested in these kids we never met and their emotional struggles I've been introduced to five minutes ago. I just want to get to the part where people punch each other already.

And get to the punching we shall! The X-men find the room where Annalee is keeping the children, and their stuff.

Average College Dorm Experience.

To the X-men's shock and horror, the Morlocks have mutated the other Powers' children to be slightly uglier as well! They've also brainwashed them to think Annalee is their real mother. Again, why this couldn't have been done when they snuck into their house to steal all their furniture, I don't know.

The X-men start brawling with the brainwashed kids, plus a menagerie of Morlocks. Rogue is kicking ass but gets whammied by Leech, who whammies himself in the process. I'm really enjoying the creative scenarios that Rogues' powerset can create. She's definitely the highlight of this issue.

Leech temporarily strips Rogue of her powers, meaning she'll have to take out the Morlocks the old fashioned way, which she does no problem because Rogue is a badass.

Damn, Aang really let himself go.

Meanwhile, for the rest of the team (sans Rachel who just disappears for a couple pages?) the mooks start coming and they don't stop coming, so Kitty Pryde slips off to rescue the kids herself while Wolvie performs gratuitous offscreen violence. She gets Annalee to surrender with a quick "what would your dead children think?" speech, at which point peak femcel Callisto shows up, just in time to be useless.

The plot is resolved, and Annalee finally processes her trauma from her children's death and makes peace with the Power Pack. And then Rachel and her rattail show back up to let the team know they're being summoned to the X-Mansion... by Magneto, for Secret Wars II!

Wait didn't we just have Secret Wars?!

Oh god, we're entering the Age of the Event Comic, aren't we?! There's going to be a new one every year (at least every 12 issues!) and its going to be convoluted and my completionist ass is going to read every single one of them. But not here because I don't want to.

Anyway, this was a waste of an issue. Usually I'm chill with a breather episode, but I don't care about Power Pack and this wasn't really that fun. The X-men weren't given a lot of time to shine, especially Rachel and poor, poor Kurt. Especially since now I'm going to have to speedrun through Secret Wars II real quick just to make sure I'm all caught up on the drama (expect a brief, unhinged review coming soon).

#comic books #marvel comics #uncanny xmen #rogue #kitty pryde #wolverine #power pack #morlocks #rachel summers for like five seconds #way too long #way too many tags