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thanksjro · 1 month

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More Than Meets the Eye #50 — The Midlife Crisis Cruise Comes to an End

Our issue begins on Earth— not Swearth, but honest-to-god Earth— where Optimus Prime and Jetfire are watching a broadcast. It’s not syndicated television like I Love Lucy or The Transformers (1984), however. No, this broadcast is coming from some of our favorite Lost Lighters, detailing their last will and testament.

Nautica wants to be buried on her home planet, and doesn’t give a hot gay fuck what they engrave on her sparkcase. Also she’s missing a good chunk of her face, but don’t worry about that too much.

Chromedome’s just happy that he’s dying WITH his husband this go around. I’m sure Brainstorm’s also thrilled to not have the “please please please stop stabbing yourself in the brain to avoid the pain of being a widower Jesus Christ we can’t keep doing this”.

Rewind takes the opportunity to poke Chromedome in the inferiority complex one last time, making his message out to Dominus Ambus. Our resident lovebirds want to “enter the after spark simultaneously”, though that seems more like something to address with whoever’s killing them.

Over on Cybertron, in Metroplex’s titties, it would seem this broadcast is VERY wideband, as Starscream and Scoop (we’ll go over whatever the fuck’s going on there in another post) witness Nightbeat’s will and testament, though considering Nightbeat’s technically undead, I’m not sure how much legal weight it holds. Having done the whole “dying” thing before, I’m sure he’s spent many a long, sleepless night thinking about how it would happen next time. Ikea Johnson wants a “Neoprimalist” funeral, where they preserve only the head. Interesting that Nightbeat's religious sect is the same as Flywheels, the Scavenger who only existed to be a stand-in for the word "fuck".

Over on Luna 1, Red Alert is convinced that Megatron is using his gun mode to threaten Nightbeat. Fort Max isn’t so sure.

Minimus shows off the most recent trick he’s learned, saying the word “fun” with only stuttering twice. He wants to be buried on the moon, next to all of Rodimus’s failed pregnancies, and wearing the skin of a man who’s been dead for thousands of years.

Whirl doesn’t want a funeral, though you’d think he’d at least want his corpse thrown in the general direction of the Wreckers’ base, where every member gets a slot in the Zone of Remembrance as part of the onboarding. I know he got kicked out, but being shot out of a rail gun at Debris sounds roughly his speed.

Rung only requests that, should he die in his vape pen form, that he be dismantled. He’s so committed to preventing underage smoking, and for that I commend him.

Rung’s request greatly disturbs the Scavengers, who seem to have forgone fixing the Krok-shaped hole in the wall and buying a couch more than two of them can sit on at a time, in order to afford a replacement TV, after Krok fastball-specialed a golden disc through the last one.

On another part of Cybertron, Windblade and Wheeljack watch Velocity state that she doesn’t regret a single thing that’s happened while she’s been a part of the Lost Light. To recap, in the few months Velocity’s been aboard: Thunderclash almost died of being too perfect, Velocity’s first boss ran off to go bang a billionaire with a sword collection, Swerve almost died from too much television, her second boss ran off to get roped into the Polycule Wars, Tailgate exploded, Rung was revealed to be practicing without a license by way of a weird gibbon with a ball gag and his serial killer boyfriend, and she became the only practicing medical professional aboard a ship of over 200, after failing to pass her medical exams ten times. Oh, and she wants to be recycled.

Optimus wants to go save them, thinking that there’s still time. However, the Lost Light isn’t responding, and it doesn’t actually matter anyhow— these recording were sent out weeks ago.

Looks like that’s a series wrap on Nautica, Chromedome, Rewind, Nightbeat, Minimus, Whirl, Rung, and Velocity! Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!

Three weeks prior, on the planet of Miliarium, action is happening:

Being on your headset in the middle of a battle seems rather rude, but I suppose sacrifices to politeness have to be made, when one of your co-captains is effectively forbidden from stepping foot on any planet that’s aware of Cybertron’s existence, given that he, y’know, is the face of a cause that slaughtered billions over the course of millions of years.

(No, don’t ask Optimus how relations with Earth are going.)

Megatron, continuing to command from orbit, tells Whirl to go help Cyclonus and Crossblades with the Rust Giants’ longship, asking for no casualties. Which is sort of like asking a horse on cocaine to not freak out and kick someone in the head, if that horse also had guns tied to 30% of its body.

Rodimus asks Megatron if he’s enjoying himself, playing a pacifist run of a wartime strategy game with their lives, and Megatron says that he’s “rumbled”; which I’m not sure if I’m search-engining wrong, but I don’t know that even the British are saying that to mean they’re right chuffed or tallywackered about a situation, or whatever. Rodimus is suddenly faced with a Rust Giant that he doesn’t even come up to the knee of, but luckily we have a new superhero to save the day, by way of incredible violence.

Looks like we’re still workshopping the battle-cries.

Tailgate punched this guy so hard it cause a jump-cut to the post-battle celebration, where Rodimus shows off his multi-typefacial abilities, Megatron perpetrates his bigotry towards organics, the Cybertronians make galactic news for a not-awful reason for once, and Swerve is also here! For some reason! It looks like it’s gonna be all peaches and cream from here on, so long as we ignore the first three pages of this issue!

Hey, Cyclonus, you have to wait for him to call you, you're not an Autobot. Just because the little white guy you're Sufjan Stevens-level attached to is going, doesn't mean— Cyclonus, hey. Hey, Cyclonus. Cyclonus. Cycl—

Later, back on the Lost Light, class is in session. We finally get a look at those course Megatron’s been teaching, only briefly mentioned by Riptide in issue #29. The current course track is on the Knights of Cybertron, Megatron having assigned those in attendance to write essays tackling “pre-Functionist folklore and contested heritage”.

Today’s class consists of:

Minimus (old as balls, former high society)

Skids (the best at everything)

Brainstorm (literal genius)

Perceptor (slightly-less-literal genius)

Nautica (jack-of-all-trades brainiac and bibliophile)

Crosscut (former senator, current playwright, therefore probably has at least some sort of degree)

Nightbeat (nosy as fuck, loves to figure shit out)

Hound (former Primal Vanguard)

Thunderclash (perfect student, researcher, friend, confidante, and maybe even lover)

Grapple (not much to say here, other than he’s fucking jacked in IDW)

Xaaron (chief legal advisor for the Autobots)

And Riptide (created during the war and therefore has the least connection to Cybertron's folklore, canonically not a good test-taker)

Poor Riptide's grades don’t stand a snowball's chance in hell against his peers', but good on him for sticking with the classes regardless.

This essay was assigned to help students establish context for the Knights within a world where they have not existed for millions of years, having disappeared since they embarked on their quest to Cyberutopia; a world where information creep, the slow degradation of memory as time passes, has made them into mythological figures. Megatron posits that the only thing we really know about the Knights is that they failed to do what they set out to do, as the universe is not a peaceful place, himself arguably being exhibit A of that failure. Still, he intends to use this course to help the Lost Light’s crew understand the Knights to the best of their current, modernity-biased ability, prior to potentially meeting them. Considering that the Knights will be deciding Megatron’s fate, perhaps this is also for him to grapple with understanding his own end.

Anyway, let’s look at a plot device.

The last time we saw this symbol was during issue #46, both drawn by Grimlock on his walls, paired with the words “prepare confront repel”, and then on some mysterious fellows who were working with Krok’s nasty little friend Demus and someone called "The Grand Architect". However, the first time we saw it was with Skids in #21, after he went through Tyrest’s space bridge and talked to a giant technicolor ball of light.

Seeing this image kickstarts Skids’s memory, enough so that he interrupts class over it. Nautica has also seen this symbol, at an exhibit on Troja Major (a planet that Roberts will use as a dumping ground for many plot points in the sequel series to MTMTE) where it was claimed to be some sort of coat of arms. Thunderclash also knows this symbol, having seen it with his beautiful mind and kind heart in his visions, the same visions that were leading him to the Knights and allowing him to create a map to Cyberutopia. Nautica asks Skids to write out the symbol that he “heard” phonetically into her space phone, in a move that will prove HIGHLY useful later on. Perceptor adds in his two cents, showing off that he’s wearing the “feminine” nose-type today, stating that he had talked to one of the Circle of Light members back in Season 1, who had theorized that the Knights of Cybertron was either originally made up of OR broke down into clans, and that the symbol/map Rodimus and Thunderclash were drawing is merely connected to part of the Knights, and that there could be others floating around.

Nightbeat thinks that all this brainstorming (which hasn’t involved Brainstorm, oddly enough) is super cool and great, showing off his anime thumb in approval. When Minimus tries to give Megatron props for bringing everyone together to figure this out, he finds that Megatron is having some troubles, hunched over his podium as far as his fucked up old man toy articulation will allow. When Minimus approaches to see what’s wrong, he gets punched clear across the room for his troubles. Then this happens:

Look, I don’t care if 99.9% of the Cybertronian population can reclaim, you shouldn’t just limp your wrist at your first officer in the middle of class.

No, what Megatron is actually doing is pointing the fusion cannon he doesn’t have anymore, but had attached to his arm for roughly 4 million years, directly at Minimus’s tiny little skull. Quickly coming back to himself, Megatron is both horrified and mortified by what he’s done, offering nothing more but a quick apology before he dismisses the class and bolts, not even helping Minimus off of the floor.

The following day, Velocity’s paying a visit to Megatron’s room, which is STILL as barren as the most dire of single male living spaces. Velocity’s here because Megatron missed his appointment yesterday, after whatever happened in the classroom. Megatron reminds her that the weekly appointment is for him receiving his ration of “fool’s energon” which is meant to keep him in a weakened state, which arguably shouldn’t make it medicine in the traditional sense. Velocity reminds him that he nearly knocked Minimus Ambus’s (yeah, she uses his full name, guess she’s not been around long enough to get “just Minimus” privileges) block off, and that if Megatron had been at full strength, we might be dealing with a murder situation instead.

Though Minimus IS a load bearer, who regularly slings around a body three times his size, on top of weapons, so maybe not. Also, there’s an even smaller guy inside the first mustached guy, so honestly it’d probably be fine.

Does Velocity even know about the irreducible Minimus? Is that in his medical history? Does she even know that Ultra Magnus and Minimus Ambus are the same person? Because Megatron didn’t even know until they found that corpse on the quantum duplicate Lost Light, and Magnus was his lawyer for the trial as well as being his SIC. Really, what are the legal ramifications of Minimus having assumed the identity of a dead man, now that Tyrest isn’t there to keep up the charade and the secret is a bit more open? Does Minimus have legal claim to Magnus’s identity, or at least ownership of the armor? Can Minimus lay claim to any property he purchased as Magnus, or that the previous Magnuses had purchased prior to their deaths? Was Minimus legally declared dead prior to undertaking the role of Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, if only to make things easier in terms of paperwork? Can Minimus sign off on things, and if so, does he use his own signature, or Magnus’s? If he signed something as Magnus, would any contract bearing it be rendered temporarily void whenever he’s not wearing his work pants? How much of Minimus’s existence makes him cry late into the night with how legally dubious it is? Does Delta Magnus know about Ultra Magnus being a skin suit? I feel like we don’t focus on how fucked up this whole situation is nearly enough.

Anyway, Velocity asks after Megatron’s medicine, probably because First Aid’s medical note-taking skills often get usurped by his need to write SpringerxReader fanfiction. She mentions that what they’ve been feeding Megatron over the last year have some side effects, which Megatron seems surprised by. Considering he’s felt sickly and crampy this whole time, the side effects are likely meant to be the intent of the medication.

Velocity then takes a gander at the dents Megatron put into his head when he had his little freakout, stating that “chemo-sedatives” can change one’s whole personality in extreme cases, as well as increased stress levels, as Megatron admits that the reason he crushed his head with his hands is that he heard voices screaming. However, Megatron doesn’t think stress caused such a thing.

To recap how the last year has gone for Megatron: he was forced to renounce the cause he had led for the last 4 million years, became co-captain of a fucking Carnival cruise ship, had 95% of his crew disappear from reality, found a bunch of corpses, got slapped in the face by Soundwave’s dad, had to lie to Rewind’s face to make him okay with killing himself so that everyone else might live, got shot as an infant, gaining anywhere from three-to-five fathers as a result, visited the most passive-aggressive garden in the galaxy, got stabbed in the chest and brained with a flat-screen television and then had to apologize for it, and was non-consensually hugged by a swarm of flesh-eating insects parading around in his SIC’s skin suit.

Velocity gets a call on her smart watch, Swerve on the other end demanding her presence at the medibay, seeing as she’s the only doctor on the ship now, and there are multiple people having a crisis.

Smash cut to Swerve, Cyclonus, Tailgate, Chromedome, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron standing on the bridge, their colors looking super fucked up and light bloomed out, because this is a 40-page issue with a shit-ton of detail and characters, so we’ve got three colorists, two artists, and an extra inker on for this one. They’re meeting with Rodimus, whose fingers have shrunk down to the size of shoestring potato fries, because Swerve, Tailgate, Rewind, Rung, and Megatron heard some sort of awful noise in their brains at the exact same time. Chromedome is here to support his husband, because he loves him so, so much, kissy-noise kissy-noise. Cyclonus is here mainly to clarify that he’s a badass who no one has ever heard cry, because emotional vulnerability and expressing pain are for pussies, unless you’re doing it by way of self-harming directly onto your face meat.

Only Tailgate and Rewind actually admit to what they heard, Tailgate hearing Cyclonus berate him for falling for Getaway’s tricks and Rewind hearing Dominus berate him for not doing enough to find him. I’d imagine both Rung and Swerve were hearing things relating to their professionalism, given that Rung fucking sucks at his job, and Swerve’s gonna fry the moment Ten gets a union sorted out. Megatron, is well, Megatron, so there’s a litany of awful things that he could have heard.

Rodimus has Blaster reveal that the ship received a signal at the exact same time that these people had their little brain event. Brainstorm hypothesizes that what happened was some sort of psychological assault, perhaps of Galactic Council origin, as a means of testing a new brain weapon. Magnus, who has been up on an upper level with a clipboard up to this point, notes that they could trace the signal. Mainframe informs him that they have, but the origin doesn’t seem to correspond to any known location in the navigation, and they’d have to physically go there to see what’s up. Which isn’t sketchy in the slightest.

Rodimus wants to load up on his big, beautiful Rodpod with everyone, so they can find who did this and make them stop. When Magnus questions if this is a wise course of action, Rodimus uses American grammar to trip up Magnus’s British-based spellcheck, so he gets to do whatever he wants. This is a trick he’s picked up since Drift left, as the old game of “pitting my people-pleaser hippy dippy boytoy and my no-nonsense stick-up-the-ass sentient rulebook against one another, so whatever I wanted to do from the start can seem like a pleasantly centralized option” doesn’t work very well when you replace the boytoy with a grumpy old man who tried to murder everything with a heartbeat.

Velocity wants to join the trip alongside Team Rodimus, but Mainframe has his reservations. I don’t blame him, considering she is, again, the only medical doctor currently on board this ship. He suggests she take along some personal protection, just in case.

…I mean, he’ll definitely make sure any bad guys who come her way will die horribly, if nothing else. Also, apparently the Rodpod's artificial gravity goes all the way around.

Nautica’s spent the last few weeks tricking out the Rodpod with a fancy schmancy new teleport drive, because Rodimus was annoying her to the point where if she didn’t give him what he was moaning about she might have had to kill him. Megatron is hesitant to use the drive, but after being informed that there are safety perimeters in place that’ll keep the ol’ Rodimus Podimus from teleporting inside a asteroid or whatever, he pulls the level and they end up in the dark.

No, not space dark, don’t be funny. That’s my job, and they don’t pay me for it, which should tell you how dire the situation is. This is a special sort of dark. The sort of dark that leads to panic and lethal levels of quipping. Rodimus cuts the lights on, but it does very little to offset the absolutely suffocating darkness outside. Rewind notes that there aren’t any stars, and Tailgate admits that he doesn’t know how space works. That’s alright Tailgate, neither do any of the people who draw or color this comic. You’re amongst (created by?) friends here.

The scanners reveal that there’s something 3000 miles in front of them. And behind them. And to the left, to the right, 12 o'clock, three o'clock, six o'clock, nine o'clock, rock around the clock tonight— that is to say, they’re surrounded by something the size of a planet. After disabling the safety protocols on the Rodimus Podimus, the gang find themselves on the surface of Necroworld, where the Necrobot Censere lives and operates his many plinths to the living and dead. Megatron isn’t exactly thrilled to be back here. Nightbeat on the other hand, is overdose on mystery, and he couldn’t be happier. Nobody’s sure what the fuck is going on. There’s no time to theorize, however, as half the gang just got blown sky high.

Everyone books it back to the Rodpod to escape the dozen attack craft coming after them, but there’s more trouble here— the teleport drive is dead. Which is weird, because they should have had enough juice to get to and from their little trip. When Rodimus tries to contact the Lost Light, there’s no response. They’re not responding. Megatron tells him that those are two different things, mirroring the same thing Optimus said about trying to contact the Lost Light after he and Jetfire viewed the will tapes. Everyone else is busy trying to figure out who the hell could be firing on them, all of them roughly coming to the same conclusion that Cybertronians as a whole aren’t terribly well liked, and the Lost Lighters have made a bit of a name (derogatory) for themselves, since they insulted the Galactic Council, caused the end of the 16-million year Stentarian war, and have ruined at least one bar with physical violence over home movies.

Rodimus tells Megatron to park the Rodpod at the Necrobot’s citadel, just in time for a missile to hit the ass-end of the shuttle, blowing off Magnus’s arm, shredding off roughly half of Nautica’s face, and giving Cyclonus an excuse to hold Tailgate in his arms. Everyone bolts to get inside, Nautica being carried by Skids so we can further solidify the straightest pairing in the series. Once they’re all inside, their attackers retreat, and we see where Censere’s gotten to in all this.

Let’s give him a hand, folks!

While Velocity looks over the body, Nightbeat deals with his personal Santa Claus being dead by way of trying to figure out what happened. Megatron, meanwhile, noticed that the craft that attacked them were of Decepticon design, and he tells Ravage to go check it out. Honestly, I doubt he was the only one to notice, given that all but three of the people on this trip were dealing with the Decepticons in some form or fashion all throughout the war, and could therefore identify the make of the crafts, if not the model, so I’m not sure what the deal is with this secrecy.

Brainstorm is brought over to Nightbeat to help solve this mystery, and he promptly identifies that some of Censere’s equipment is very similar to the stuff Tyrest used for the Aequitas trials, likely used to figure out what sparkflowers to plant where. Rewind, having popped on his sparkliest nipple pasties on, because he hates Censere and wants to get glitter all over his house, asks the boys to scootch on over so he can try to call the Lost Light. Nightbeat thinks that Censere tried to sabotage a signal someone else had sent in an attempt to lure Team Rodimus (and friends) to the planet, and that resulted in the brain attack that had happened earlier in the day. Unfortunately, Censere didn’t spend any time with Rodimus the last time the Lost Light visited, so he didn��t get a taste of the ridiculous way Rodimus likes to live his life, and why the psychic attack wouldn’t work.

Rewind gets the phone working, calling Rodimus over to get on the horn. Magnus stands in the background, showing off his grievous amputation. After a bit of fiddling with the settings on their end, the Lost Light makes official contact with Team Rodimus.

Getaway, last we saw him, was very much in prison, but Rodimus isn’t going to focus on that niggling little detail right now, as he asks for the Lost Light to swing by to pick up the team so they don’t all die. Getaway sort of DOES want to focus on that detail, however, as he very much didn’t appreciate being fetish fuel throughout the holiday season, and, despite his name, didn’t actually escape that setup. No, Getaway had help.

Man, guess Megatron should’ve reconsidered failing Riptide on his essay.

Speaking of Megatron, he walks up about now to see what all the hubbub’s about. Rodimus, looking like he’s about to cry, realizes that Mainframe lied to them about not being able to track the signal. Getaway gives him points for getting that right, but really, he wants to drive home the point that the entirety of the crew wanted Megatron’s little pals off the ship. And that’s what it’s really about, at the end of the day. Getaway hates that high command gave Megatron a party cruise to live out his last days on, last days that might not even happen, with the track record of this goddamned quest. He’s sick of Rodimus and pals acting like this whole arrangement isn’t an affront to every single life that’s been snuffed out because of Megatron’s actions.

Everyone other than Whirl seems pretty bummed out by these accusations. Swerve pipes up, enraged that he’s been doomed to die alongside everyone else— he doesn’t even LIKE Megatron. Getaway reveals that at some point or another, he and Atomizer (the interior designer turned bowman, you’ll recall) approached every single crew member and asked if they thought Megatron deserved to have a second chance and also, completely unrelated, but what would you do in the event of a coup? Anyone who didn’t provide a desirable answer got visited by the nudge gun fairy— that gun that can fire thought into your brain, or just erase memories if fired dry. The collection of headaches main cast have been experiencing over the last several issues? The side effect of being shot. Skids especially does not like this reveal.

Of course, Getaway isn’t just upset with Megatron’s leadership— he’s also mad as hell what’s supposed to be a trip to find their ancestors, who will guide them back onto the straight and narrow, has, in actuality, been Rodimus’s midlife crisis road trip. Getaway wasn’t even here for Rodimus and Drift’s ass-slapping contests and insulting galactic officials who want the Cybertronians dead, but he didn’t need to be. He took one look at the Rodpod and decided he needed to kill Rodimus right then and there.

Rodimus, at this point, remembers the list Atomizer had offered him back during the trial. Magnus, biting his lip at the idea of a list existing, asks what that’s all about, and Rodimus explains. Getaway really was hoping that Rodimus would take the bait, so he could’ve blackmailed Rodimus into stepping down and letting literally anyone else take over. Probably Magnus, at that point in the timeline, given that he hadn’t gotten buddy-buddy with Megatron yet at that point. Unless Getaway considers acting as someone’s lawyer under order of the space pope as being too close to an individual.

Getaway decides that this conversation has reached its natural conclusion, as he’s got questing to get done, and it should be moving at a pretty even clip now, since he’s excised all the distractions. Rodimus swears to come after him, but Getaway doubts it’ll happen, given what’s happening next.

While this debacle has been happening, Ravage has been busy searching a crash site, trying to uncover the identity of who the hell’s decided to attack them. Tarn commits a microagression at him, before firing his twin fusion cannons.

The call ends, Getaway cutting off the comm to all contact.

Ravage shows back up at this point, to give everyone the bad news.

Nightbeat, honey, the tragedy is in the opposite direction.

Now, that’s technically the finale of the main story, but there’s a little bonus comic attached to the end, acting as a sort of sideways epilogue to hint at what Getaway and his merry band of mutineers will be getting up to, since we aren’t seeing them again for a bit.

Our little backup strip begins right before the original launch of the Lost Light, where we see some guys we haven’t seen the 2012 Annual issue. Shock and Ore wander around what will one day become Swerve’s, Shock convinced that this ship is actually the ship they lost 5 million years prior, the Unitrex-1. Ore isn’t so sure, but as the readers, we saw the exact moment that Unitrex-1 disappeared in issue #38, after Rodimus forgot to wash his hands while putting the quantum engine together. Shock, wanting to prove that he’s right, fumbles around in the dark, looking for the graffiti he carved into the underside of a table. Ore gets a call on his space Blackberry while he’s doing this, and we finally get the other half of that call Prowl made in issue #1, after he failed to get Chromedome to stay on Cybertron. The Duobots have 20 minutes to get Overlord’s massive, lippy ass on the ship. Knowing that that isn’t a ton of time, the two quickly book it out of the bar, leaving the spectral form of Skids to look really bummed out.

Later, at Swerve’s grand (secret) opening, we see some more old faces.

Whoa now, Drift, you’re not supposed to be back until next issue!

Pipes thinks he’s been cursed to not have friends, since Hubcap is still at his dead-end job with the Wreckers, and Riptide was too busy being in a coma to come say goodbye. How rude!

Drift doesn’t seem to particularly want Pipes around more than necessary, pushing him to be friends with Rewind, who he describes as having kind eyes. Whether Drift is doing this to keep Pipes safe from overhearing any Overlord-related secrets, keeping his ass-slapping and sexually-tense sword training time with Rodimus safe, or just because he finds Pipes to be mildly annoying isn’t clear. Pipes, however, is looking for more than friendship— he’s looking to bone down.

Pipes’s ideal partner is wide as they are tall, with tits to match and at least one alt-mode that he can use as a yacht. Drift tells him he can introduce him to Tailgate, though something tells me Pipes isn’t really Tailgate’s type, given that he can actually say what he means and doesn’t have some fucked-up facial situation.

It’s really too bad that Pipes died, because I bet he would have loved Nautica, and he would have REALLY loved Nickel.

Later still, we see all of our doctors together— even Ambulon is there! In one piece, even! Ambulon wants to tell First Aid something, and First Aid automatically tries to make it a cosmetic thing, because of COURSE Ambulon would be insecure about his bad skin, and what he really needs is a better cleanser. What Ambulon actually wants to talk about, though, is his alt mode, and the fact that the puns involved with being part of a Combiner make him want to die. First Aid understands, but Swerve, known menace to society, might not be so compassionate, as he throws a grenade into the back of Ambulon’s head, triggering his transformation. Ambulon is mortified, and Swerve does the thing that Ambulon literally just said he hates. First Aid continues to rip flakes of paint off of Ambulon, as the specter of Velocity watches, looking pretty bummed about the fact that she never got to be part of banter like this.

Later on than that, Rewind and a wheelchair-bound Rung are in the currently-empty Swerve’s, as Rewind calls Chromedome to gather up one of the groups for those storytelling circles Rewind organized to try to fix Rung’s brain. He hangs up, then tells Rung that once his brain works again, they’re going to have a goddamned chat about Dominus Ambus, which is only mildly hampered in its threat by the fact that Rewind standing is barely the same height as Rung sitting down.

Rewind then gets to work writing out the story map for when the “Shadowplay” group gets there, as the specter of Chromedome reaches out longingly for the dead version of his husband. He laments that this Rewind died without closure, but the ghostly specter of Rung reminds him that there are rules to this, and they have to leave now. Not sure why Rung’s here to watch himself be threatened by Pipsqueak McGee. Is he actually doing his job for once, helping guide someone through their grief? I doubt it, since Chromedome isn’t a hottie bo-body like Skids, and his problems haven’t (directly, at least) caused the sort of trouble that make entire star systems hate you like Megatron.

Later, during the Overlord disaster, Perceptor sprints into Swerve’s, shouting for a medic, as the rest of the battered and beaten watch. Hoist, himself hooked up to the wall by some sort of cable, while wearing his extra-special Rodimus Star, offers to help, though he’s technically an engineer, and whatever he’s gonna do probably won’t have any consideration for the soul or ability to feel pain. Perceptor was using Tripodeca— sweet, beloved, friend to all, who was the star of the post-Overlord mass funeral Tripodeca— as a, uh, tripod for his rifle, when Overlord probably noticed that the ol’ science sniper looked sort of familiar and did a lil’ grabbing with his big nasty hands. Hoist asks if Perceptor is going to stop Overlord, and considering how things went the last time Overlord was the star of the show, I doubt Perceptor thought he was gonna get lucky twice in terms of survival, especially when Overlord is riGHT BEHIND HIM OH GOD LORDY JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH

How Perceptor survived this isn't clear, but we know he did, as he continued to show up in the story past issue #15 in a decidedly alive, non-paste form. His specter watches this scene unfold, expression unreadable.

Post-Luna 1, Swerve stands in his ruined bar dejectedly, when he realizes that quite a few people have shown up to help him clean up the mess, as long as he promises to reward their hard work with reopening once it’s done. As everyone works to get things back in order, Swerve tells them to keep an eye out for a non-trashed Legislator that he could use as a bouncer, once he fucks around with its head enough to make it do what he wants. Ten’s specter watches as his shitty boss and arguable father is gifted the body that would become him, making a note to get his union going with a bit more urgency.

Later, on the day of the “Fuck Off Megatron 2-for-1 Drink Deal”, Crosscut lead Riptide, Mirage, and Nautica on a tour of the ship. Mirage notes that Swerve’s is a bit of a dive, not suited to his refined tastes in the slightest. In a booth, Getaway and Atomizer have boxed Mainframe in on either side to have a little chat. Swerve and Bluestreak talk television, Bluestreak making a little jab at MTMTE’s second season not being quite as well-received by fans as the first. Over at the bar, Highbrow and Perceptor talk about Quark, while Brainstorm watches while having his briefcase, which he is NOT supposed to have in here.

Crosscut goes on about this bar being where all things happen and where bittersweet is the most often-felt emotion, then calls Trailcutter/blazer an alcoholic as he dances on the ceiling. The specters of just about everyone on the ship watch their fallen friend, enjoying the moment and missing him terribly, as Perceptor brings them back to the here and now of the story, which turns out to be just after the holiday special, judging by the Christmas lights.

Minimus asks if this is safe, and Perceptor says that it is, as nobody can actually interact with the past, because Brainstorm is the only one who’s ever actually perfected that tech, not that this isn’t his fault either. It turns out that when you try to fly against the stream of time as it naturally occurs, you tear a few thousand itty bitty holes on the way to perfecting the process. Perceptor’s found a way to let others view the past, at least for a little while. Minimus is fine with it, as long as everyone continues to behave, and it seems like they are, as everyone mingles in Swerve’s.

The two of them sit down, Megatron handing Minimus what I’m sure is a mocktail, and Perceptor explains that while the window into the past is closing for now, it may open back up in the future. When Rodimus asks when that might be, he then immediately decides that he doesn’t want to know, instead wanting to have a fun little surprise for later. They don’t get very many of those, fun surprises.

As everyone toasts to the dead and to future adventures, the specter of Getaway watches on, smug as hell.

That’s the end of “No Guns, No Swords, No Briefcases” but that is STILL not the end of the issue! It never ends, this thing! Because the number 50 is very big and impressive, obviously this is a double-sized spectacular, and has to cap off with a note from the man himself— James Roberts.

And then after that we get a new notes from fans, but this is already obscenely long and I think I can show you the crux of what they’re all saying right here: MTMTE (2012) is fucking good. It’s a good series. Make your goddamn family, friends, coworkers, librarians, and goldfish read it. Share it with people you’ve never met. Get a long-term personal project out of it. Get long-term friends out of it. Get a long-term romantic partner out of it. If I can do it, so can you!

#transformers #MTMTE #issue 50 #maccadam #hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing #overthinking about robots #incoming analysis

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v10l3t-jpg · 22 days

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my tmagp appearance headcanons!!

Sam

Decently tall, like 5'8"-5'9"

Pakistani descent, black hair, dark brown eyes

I know Alex is trying to push this noodle arms spindly Sam agenda but I literally can't picture him like that, in fact I'm headcanoning that when Alice calls him noodle arms/waif/baby shrimp it's because he's lost weight since uni but he's still fat, all very round shapes on the go here

Also he has big dark brown eyes like a calf with ridiculously long lashes

The thought of him activates some kind of grandmaternal instinct in me, I need to pinch his cheeks and give him a Werther's original (I am 22)

I love love LOVE @fox-guardian 's design for him (for everyone, actually, especially Tim), it's exactly what I imagined listening to that first ep, down to the wee moustache and everything

I think he wears square or rectangle glasses, either in black or tortoiseshell

Alice

LANKY

Still a surprising amount of squish to her frame tho because I have to push my women tumby agenda everywhere I go

The Kiki to Sam's Bouba

5'11"-6'0"

White, strawberry blonde, hazel eyes

Still working out whether she wears oval framed glasses or contacts or can see pussy fresh

Medium long fluffy strawberry blonde hair with a fringe and layers, it's kind of a mess but she can pull it off because she's my wife, there might be a curl pattern in there somewhere if it was maintained right

Heart shaped face and faded freckles, has a jellyfish tattoo on her left thigh which she got done when she was 19 and going through a phase when she thought SpongeBob was peak humour (Gwen insists it's because she also has no brain)

Gwen

5'4" ish, not super short but Alice teases her enough to give her a complex about it

White, blonde, blue eyes (or maybe green I haven't decided)

I've decided that, to go along with her general insecurity, she's also really insecure about her appearance

Pear shaped, gains weight easily, and hates that it reminds her of being a chubby kid. Has freckles and a button nose and hates them because she thinks they make her look childish. Wore a headband to work once and immediately binned it because Alice flirted made a joke about school uniform and Gwen got self-conscious.

Used to have long blonde hair, got it chopped into a bob about a year before TMAGP begins

Celia

5'7"

Korean descent, dark brown hair in that like mullet-y wolf cut thing, dark brown eyes

Stocky and strong build

Wears little thin framed black or silver glasses

The only person to ever look good in dungarees

Colin

5'8"

Prematurely balding, we're talking bald on top with that band around the back and sides

White, brown eyes, greying brown hair

I think he's a bit of a metalhead and he has some kick ass tattoos but they're almost always covered

Lena

I'm so sorry, I actually find her so bland she's hard to think about 😬 hopefully she gets more interesting as the show goes on

5'6"

Greying dark brown hair, curly but always in a severe bun, and piercing blue eyes

I do picture her with a very defined chin, maybe rectangular face shape

Made with wervty's murmur character maker on picrew!!

#the magnus protocol #samama khalid #alice dyer #gwen bouchard #celia ripley #colin becher #lena kelley #tmagp #sam khalid #gwendolyn bouchard

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foxintheferns · 5 months

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Wild Heart

Chapter Three

A Twilight - Paul Lahote Fanfiction

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

*Short summary for my antsy gals: this absolute babe with childhood trauma, no real family and a passion for animals goes to live in the woods outside of La Push beach for her job that’s she’s deemed is necessary to find her way in life, and guess who’s not happy she’s there because now they have to worry about this human who’s put herself smack in the middle of bloodsucker city, where they have an instinctual obligation to protect her. And guess who’s even more angry that he suddenly feels an undying and relentless, fiery need to be with her all the time? Angst, tension, passion, anger, love, jealousy, perhaps even some betrayal? This story’s got it all babes (yes, even the smut) - it’s just one of those slow burn, then-suddenly-everything-is-fuckin-crazy-and-the-angst-is-unreal fics, you know? stay tuned ;)

A/N: awww shit we got the Jacob POV with this one! Sorry this took a while! I’m feeling super excited about the story and antsy to get into it. Hope you enjoy!!! PS, tagging all the wonderful lil babies that liked chapter one and two! You guys motivated me to get this one done :’) more to come shortly

CHAPTER THREE

Jacob Black’s POV:

“I don’t know, dude, but she’s out there,” I muttered under my breath, whittling away vigorously at the piece of wood I was working on with my knife. Jared scoffed, lounging on Emily and Sam’s couch across the room, gnawing on some chicken wings that Embry had brought over.

“Yeah, okay, I’m sure she was just a hiker, Jake. Teenagers from the Rez go out there all the time lookin’ for trouble, you know that,” he responded, not seeming to be truly allowing his full attention to fall on the conversation. I raised my eyes from my wood carving to glare at him from where I sat on the wooden steps.

“I do know that, Jared,” My voice came out as a sneer now, “That’s exactly why I’m saying this is different.”

Jared didn’t notice my eyes on him, and shrugged casually as he continued to pull chicken off a thigh bone with his teeth, his eyes more focused on the hockey game playing on the television than on my concerns. His face was looking extra punchable today, and I knew I’d have to reel in my annoyance for him if I wanted to be taken seriously by the pack with this one. Seth strode in from the back porch now, the screen door into the living room having allowed him to hear our bickering. He slid the screen closed behind him and shot me an interested look.

“I believe you, Jake. We just all gotta go out there and see what’s goin on.”

Ugh. Seth was always backing me up, and it made me even more irritable. Even though he was 22 now, he still felt a lot like a little brother to me, although I’d started to really respect him as a member of the pack; he did really pull his weight. I shrugged now, turning my attention back to the wood in my hand that was starting to slowly take the shape of a full-bodied wolf. I knew I’d have to wait until Sam and Paul came back from their trip to Canada before the issue would be addressed seriously. Even my own father wasn’t showing the concern I thought was necessary.

A week before, a twenty-something, obviously totally clueless girl had moved into the old lookout shelter smack in the middle of the Olympic Forest. Right where the pack had full territory protection orders, conveniently enough. The shelter hadn’t been used in over 5 years, and now suddenly the State of Washington has deemed it necessary for this girl to be out there doing, what exactly - birdwatching? It was ridiculous. On my patrol a few days before, I’d decided to stay quiet and watch her from afar for a while, as I’d been keeping an eye on her since I noticed her arrive days before. I seriously watched that girl walk around the forest for hours, looking through her binoculars and scribbling in her little notebook. I got so bored I almost fell asleep, my head resting on the ground between my paws and the occasional sound of the girl’s whispered ‘wow’s and ‘look at you, you are a beauty!’s lulling my tired brain. She often stayed in one area of the woods for hours, and I didn’t have to move around much to avoid her detecting my massive form behind the falls ferns and trees.

I just didn’t understand why anyone would do that to themselves. I mean, if anyone understood the beauty of the forests around La Push, it was me, but subjecting yourself to living in that little cabin for who knows how long? This girl must be certifiably insane - or at least very weird and antisocial, I thought. The boys and I had seen the empty cabin loads of times, it being pretty much smack in the middle of the pack’s territory. It was every so often that young, drunk teenagers stumbled across the chained-off shelter late at night and warranted us to do a little intervening, scaring them off by growling or shuffling deep from the darkness. It worked like a charm, every damn time. We couldn’t have people, nonetheless some random kids, partying out in the middle of the woods like a buffet for the bloodsuckers. It was our job to make sure anyone on our land was safe. And that’s exactly why this girl was putting a bit of a kink in our system.

I remembered the night I first saw her. The lights had been on, smoke escaping from the cabin’s chimney for the first time in years, and I had practically sprinted home to tell the rest of the pack. I had been the only one out doing patrol recently; Sam and Paul had gone as the pack ambassadors to Northern Canada, in their human forms, to visit another group that had reached out in efforts to understand more about our kind. It seemed the Quileutes weren’t the only shifters around. It was great and all, sure, but it left me as the stand-in Alpha while they were away, and the boys didn’t necessarily fear me as much as they did Sam, what with them being my best friends.

“Ah, right, that girl… the one with the Bronco, from the grocery store,” my dad Billy had said casually a week before, when I had brought up to him the severity of my concerns after first seeing her and having my worries be promptly brushed off by Embry and Jared pretty quickly. There hadn’t been a bloodsucker around these parts in quite a while. The Cullens were away, somewhere in Europe, for the past few months, and the pack had seemed to get a bit too comfortable with the lack of constant vampire threats.

I stared up at my dad in confusion, my mouth slightly open in surprise that he seemed to immediately know who I was talking about. All I’d said was that I saw someone was in the lookout shelter, lights on and wood burning stove cranking, and that we needed to figure out who the hell was trespassing and kick them out.

Billy looked up briefly from his newspaper and coffee to meet my eyes nonchalantly.

“Who?” I asked incredulously.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head and straightening his newspaper out to read it again. “Jacob, the lookout is State property. Sometimes they send in a scientist or two to do some research on endangered species and whatnot for a year or so. They’ve done it lots of times. She’s not the first,” He said casually while eyeing the newspaper. My mouth gaped at him now. How was he taking this so lightly? “Wh-first of all, how do you even know about this girl? Second- she’ll be out there a year?!” My voice was louder, his nonchalance starting to irk me. Billy had sighed then, setting the newspaper down on the table. “I saw her when we got groceries earlier today. She dropped something from her wallet and I yelled out to let her know. I asked her what she was doing in these parts, and she told me she moved here for her job. Wildlife biologist. Tell me, son, you see any other places that a wildlife biologist would work in La Push? I figured that’s where she’d be going, right when she told me. Now, obviously it’s not ideal that she’s out there but, well… I mean, she’s doing it for a good cause.” I stared at him in disbelief, shaking my head and my eyes bugging. His careless demeanor towards the issue was making me feel like I was about to implode, my temperature rising and the wolf inside me eager as ever to let my anger take hold. “Yeah, not ideal is a bit of an understatement. Ha! She’s bloodsucker bait out there. She won’t even last a month, just watch. Either we’ll scare her off, or the leeches will come for her,” I seethed, crossing my arms and putting my feet up on the coffee table in front of the couch. I stared across the room at the wall. Billy’s eyes burned into me from my peripheral, and I heard him grumble under his breath before he curtly responded, ”Jacob. It’s your job to keep her safe now. That is not an option. That is the responsibility and obligation that runs through your veins,” he hesitated briefly, “And I won’t hear about you trying to scare her. I won’t.”

My brows furrowed, and I kept my arms crossed in defiance, although I knew I couldn’t argue with him. He was right. But, it was still worth a shot trying to get her to leave.

That was a week ago now, and with Paul and Sam still gone for the next week, I knew I’d have to figure something out myself. I was the Alpha for the time being, after all. I stood up from the step, folding my knife, stuffing it into my back pocket and carefully slipping my incomplete wolf carving into its velvet pouch for safe keeping.

“You guys have fun. I’m going back out there,” I grumbled, taking the extra moment to flick the side of Jared’s head on my way out the back door. He yelped and grimaced, holding his head dramatically and rubbing the place where my middle finger had made contact. Seth stifled a laugh from the recliner in the corner, and Jared shot him a look before flinging a chicken bone at his head, which Seth dodged gracefully. I hid my smile as I strode out across the back porch, bracing myself with my right arm and slinging my legs over the waist high fence to land on the other side with ease. I breathed deeply, feeling the last bit of direct sunshine the day had to offer touch my skin. I had honestly been enjoying this smaller pack experience. With Sam gone, and me calling the shots, I had a lot more solo-shifting time. Being in my wolf, all by myself and without the constant obnoxious chatter of the boys in my head, was truly peaceful. I stood behind the porch and glanced around me once before pulling my pants to the ground. I shook them off and tied them around one of my ankles, my typical way of ensuring I had clothes to put on when I shifted back into my human form later. I let my body begin to tremble and burn and tear as I pushed through my current peace and urged it to become strength. Shifting on command was now something my body had gotten quite used to, and I felt natural doing it. I was grateful that I no longer had to be seething with rage or worry in order for my body to morph, painfully and violently, into its massive canine form. This was much more convenient.

I made a point to check the entirety of the perimeter first, possibly trying to convince myself that this foolish girl wasn’t the only reason I was out there so early. I ran for miles, keeping my senses honed in and my body at a steady pace. I was leaving checking on her for last, the little cabin tucked deep into the woods on our land and about a mile in from our southernmost territorial boundary line. Suddenly, a thought broke through my quite peace.

~Jake, we’re all down by First Beach for a fire, you should swing by and take a break~

Seth’s voice was soft. He knew when I was in the zone, and had been barked at for being a nuisance many times, so I could sense his hesitation with the invite. Surprisingly, I was eager to take a break before checking out the lookout shelter. I hadn’t realized it, or maybe hadn’t even wanted to acknowledge it before, but I was a little nervous. I didn’t know what it was about this girl, but her comfort within the forest threw me off. I wasn’t used to seeing outsiders look so at home in what I felt was my home.

~Sure, sure, I’ll be there~

Seth’s presence quickly disappeared again with my response, and I began my sprint through the forest down to the beach. Within minutes I was gliding through the trees, aiming for the spot where the boys and I typically met up. I stopped when I came to the tree-line, and could see the fuzzy outline of the reservation’s only restaurant, Riverside, through the trees. I felt my body shimmer and shake as I shifted back to my two legged body, bending at the waist and moving from side to side to crack my tired back and neck as I adjusted. I untied my sweatpants from my ankle and pulled them back on, swiping my hand quickly through my hair to make myself presentable and avoid attracting too much unwanted looks from tourists on the beach. Although, being six foot five and shirtless usually prevented that from being avoidable. I made my way through the remaining patch of trees until they broke apart and revealed the stretch of dirt road that went from the restaurant down to the beach. Seth, Embry and Quil were standing in a huddle off to the side of the small building. Seth and Embry turned at the sound of my footsteps, a greeting, howl-like call coming from Embry’s mouth. I chuckled and returned the sound, coming up to them and returning his waiting fist bump. Quil nudged my arm, narrowing his eyes and lowering his tone to speak in a playful inflection, “Yo, think I saw that girl you’re so hung up on down at the beach, man.”

I felt my cheeks warm, and I immediately felt anger at the odd sensation. I knew Quil was just trying to fuck with me. ‘That girl you’re so hung up on’ as if I gave a crap what she was up to. I just didn’t want to have to deal with the inconvenience of another innocent human to have to protect for no good reason other than she wants to watch some birds. I punched his arm, hard enough for that shitty grin of his to be wiped off of his face.

“Yeah? D’ya tell her to get the hell out of here?” I responded with a sarcastic smile.

Embry rolled his eyes, looking at me straight on. Embry was never intimidated by me, even when Sam appointed me the stand-in alpha, even when I was the only one of us besides Paul that could easily overpower any of the others in the pack.

“Jake, relax. Girl looks like she knows her way around a trail, I don’t think it’s a big deal.” Embry’s voice was steady.

I raised my eyebrows, smirking at his consistently naive kindness.

“Yeah, Embry? You ready to keep watch and make sure she doesn’t become leech bait for the next year?”

Embry’s face faltered, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion, “A year? Why would she be here a whole year?”

I nodded, a grim smile on my face, happy the boys were finally getting it. “A year. Billy says that’s what the State does, hires biologists or whatever to come down here to study the animals and shit. I guess that’s how long the job is.”

Seth seemed interested now, his own usually neutral position seeming to falter as well.

“Oh damn, that is kinda…not ideal… I wonder if-,” Seth paused mid sentence, his eyes catching something behind me. I waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, I turned to see what had caught his attention. Walking toward the restaurant -and toward us- a small red backpack strewn over her shoulder and light brown, caramel hair that escaped its long braid in small wispy sections around her face to whip across her cheeks with the slight salty breeze, was a girl. The elusive forest girl. There she was. The current thorn in my side that was causing more issues than she could even dream of understanding. I hadn’t seen her this up close yet. She looked to be around our age, early twenties, and she was a bit taller than a lot of the girls I’d seen around town. She had long, graceful legs that carried her with purposeful and lengthy strides. Her feet were clad in brown hiking boots, dirty and currently covered with sand. In the brief moment we had stopped our conversation to look in her direction, she had glanced down at the ground, seemingly avoiding our intense stares. The silence carried on until she opened the door to the restaurant, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

I turned back to the boys, and Seth’s eyes were still on the door. I snapped my finger in his face, calling his attention back. He blinked, staring at me. Then, he looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet around on the dirt and finding a random rock to be apparently quite interesting.

“I mean, if that’s the girl living in our woods- I think it’s, uh… I think that’s just fine,” Seth mumbled with a light shrug, a playful smirk pulling up onto his lips as he shot a narrow glance at Quil from the corner of his eye. Quil snorted, earning another shoulder punch from me. “Yeah, yeah. Get your asses down to the beach, let’s go,” I instructed, turning my body away from the restaurant and directing the group of us towards the treeline. They obliged, starting a new conversation amongst themselves as I trailed behind. Before we entered the trees to make our way down to the beach, I risked one brief glance over my left shoulder, and regretted it instantly when I made direct eye contact with her through the glass pane of the front window of the restaurant. My eyes shot back forward immediately, but I continued to see her face in my mind for a moment. She had been looking at me. Her expression was… intrigued? No, that wasn’t it, maybe nervous? Good. I didn’t want her getting comfortable here.

Two Hours Later

“All I’m saying is, she’s hot,” Quil had his hands up defensively in front of him, palms facing outward, “sue me, Jake. A hot girl is living in our woods and I’m not mad about it.”

I glared at him from across the large driftwood fire the four of us sat around on First Beach, the sun just starting to come down across the horizon.

“And all I’m saying is, you’re lucky you’re sitting all the way over there, Quil,” I mumbled back, turning my gaze downward to continue to play with a stick in the sand, stabbing it down and feeling the satisfying crunch of the beach beneath it.

“Lighten up, Jake. You’re gonna go prematurely grey with all this worrying you’re doing,” Embry joked, chewing on some Swedish Fish he’d pulled out from his back pocket. My eyes flickered up to his face, and he slowed his chewing when he saw whatever expression was on mine.

“This isn’t something he, or any of us, should be joking about. Just because the bloodsuckers haven’t come through in a while doesn’t mean they’re not out there. They’re always out there. And this girl has just decided to settle down right smack in the middle of the damn woods. You guys don’t see anything that could go wrong there?”

Seth shrugged halfheartedly, “Honestly, no…Not with us around.”

I rolled my eyes, but slumped my shoulders back down in defeat. “Whatever, I’m going back,” I muttered, throwing the stick I’d been fumbling with down into the flames of the bonfire as I pulled myself to my feet. I heard the mumbles of complaint and opposition come from the three of them, but decided I wasn’t in the mood for more petty arguing and defending of my side, and kept a steady pace over to the tree-line bordering the beach until I was well into the cover of the dark greenery. I walked further, trying to allow the cold air of the forest to bite into my skin and clear my head. The sunlight was almost completely gone now, and I was eager to get back into my wolf form, the idea of not having to communicate with the rest of the pack looking like a luxury at this point. I was always able to sink effortlessly into the instinctual, primal rhythm that came along with shifting. It was a quiet place where my human emotions and worries weren’t as clear and sharp. It allowed escape. As I bent to pull my sweatpants down, a distant light flickered across my vision. I stood back up straight, my pants coming back up to my hips, and narrowed my eyes to peer through the trees. A bobbing flashlight was moving through the black trees ahead, probably around 40 yards away. My vision was much better than the average human’s due to the altered DNA I possessed, and my senses of smell and hearing were almost as good as they were in my wolf form. I knew almost immediately that it was her. I felt a smirk pull up a corner of my mouth when I realized that she was making it far too easy, now. All I had to do was freak her out a bit, right? What woman wants to stay in the woods by herself when strange shirtless men are out and about? I started striding towards her, not fully knowing what I was doing or bothering to question myself up until the very moment she seemed to hear the crunching of my feet on the ground. She froze, and I could hear the terrified pumping of her heart in the silence. Maybe I wouldn’t even have to do much. Maybe this would be enough to scare her, to get her to pack her things and head back to wherever she came from. I continued to loudly trudge across the forest floor, trying to make myself sound even bigger than I already was. She suddenly reached behind her, grabbing some object from her backpack’s side, and then proceeded to yell. Or, I don’t think I could truly call it a yell. A loud whimper, perhaps.

“Hey, bear! H-hey bear!”

I almost laughed out loud. I stopped walking, stifling my chuckle and keeping my eyes on her trembling frame. I had to make myself known; I couldn’t let the poor girl believe that her pathetic attempt at keeping a bear away would’ve actually worked. I’d practically be doing her a disservice by going away now. Back to the strange man in the woods approach.

“Well, I’m not a bear, but if I was - don’t know that those sounds would do the trick.”

She reeled, gasping and throwing her flashlight to the ground in her panic. I rolled my eyes in the darkness. If I had been a bear, you’d be a goner by now, I wanted to say.

“Shit!” Her voice filled the silent forest, and I bit my bottom lip hard to keep the unimpressed laugh from escaping. I was right to try and get this girl to leave, she wouldn’t last a second around a vampire. Suddenly, the flashlight was back in her grasp and a blinding light was being pointed directly at my face.

“Jesus, wha-, fuck, can you shine that down?!” I practically yelled, throwing a hand up in front of my face and straining my eyes from the brightness. After a moment, the light was lowered quickly, hovering around my legs, and I let my hand fall back down. We locked eyes, her terrified gaze traveling up and down my body, resting finally on my face.

“H-…wha-who-,” she stammered out, then appeared to take a deep breath and began again, “Why are you following me?”

Now, I couldn’t hide my amusement. I felt a smile prick the corner of my mouth, and I watched as her expression became more filled with terror at the change in my expression. When I saw that, I realized it was possible that I was maybe scaring her a bit too much. I let my gaze soften and stifled back another chuckle, cocking my head towards her and letting my genuine interest in her ridiculous reasoning lead the way.

“Following you? You’re on my land, sweetheart,” I responded, my voice calm and steady, keeping my eyes locked on hers.

➡️NEXT CHAPTER

……………………………………………………………………………………

A/N: eeeeeek! This was basically Chapter Two but from Jake’s POV, so very excited to move it along in the next chapter heheh. Should be up tmrw! To the wonderful readers who followed along with Chp 1 and 2, you guys rock and I hope you still wanna read, but still luv u even if u just stopped in for those first chapters! <3

@hotheadwolf @living-that-best-life @carrrieeexu @plainharmony130th-blog

#fanfic #twilight #imagines #jacob black #paul lahote #paullahote #twilight imagines #fanfiction #paullahoteimagine

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skaldish · 3 days

Note

re: science and spiritual/supernatural, you might want to look up author Corine Sombrun - she took part in some scientific collabs researching trance. I can't be sure yet how good these are, since I've been made aware of her recently (my friend worked on polish edition of one of her books, which I'm also yet to read), but it seems super interesting and I love that it's being looked into. I see on her website that most of her books aren't available in english so far, but some articles are, so there's a start!

Noted! I'll see if there's any weight to it. I think with recent advances of biopsychology there's now the potential to actually rule out probable causes. The issue is that not all of science is on the verge of all the latest advancements, and some scientists are still treating yesterday's developments as novel concepts.

If I may ramble for a second too, since you got me thinking about this topic: I think the main issue we've been facing with science and the supernatural, is that all our technology is designed to interface and measure the natural, and we can't use tools that measure the universe's hardware to read its software anymore than we can read a Wikipedia article by watching electricity move through the server it's hosted on. Crude analogy, but that's the basic concept.

Like...if we were to put me in an MRI, and I were to hold a conversation with Loki while my brain is getting scanned, what would inevitably happen is that my brain will light up in ways that probably correspond with my auditory and language processing, as well as some visual processing and wherever the hell "thinking" lives. And at the same time this is going on, we can have all those ghost-hunting gadgets set up in the room to try to pinpoint where Loki is.

And the inevitable outcome of all this is that the results will be inconclusive...because all of these things are trying to measure matter, rather than a function.

It seems when it comes to anything supernatural, science has a habit of clinging fast to a really outdated false predicate—that anything that's "real" must have a material existence. So of course we're only going to come up with *non-committal wiggly hand gesture* if we keep trying to measure it like this.

No one will say that a Wikipedia article isn't real, despite the fact it has a digital existence. It's not made of matter-based atoms, but energy-based 1's and 0's. Sure, the article may be hosted on something that's made of atoms, but that doesn't give the article itself a material existence—the material thing is just the container it exists in, the same way our universe is the container we exist in.

The only reason why we see Wikipedia articles as words on a screen is because our displays give them the appearance of documents. But this is just a facsimile for our sake only—it's not what the article actually "looks" like.

Like, idk. With how our own digital tech is shaping up, I figure it's only a matter of time before we go, "Maybe there's a thing here that's interfacing with our material world. I bet we can pinpoint what it is, and develop a technology on our end that can interface back."

#answered

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queers-gambit · 2 years

Note

hi! Absolutely love ur work, you're super talented! Would you mind writing a something about Billy with an insecure reader? Like just concerning her body and stuff :> if you don't want to it's no problem!

i am smooching your forehead, you cutie. i'm sorry it took so long but i'm finally thinning out my requests!!

The Weight of Words

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 3.0k+

note: author is projecting!! maturity and caution advised!!

warnings: cursing, angst, shitty family relationships, a mother's hate, talk of birth control, talk of poor self image / self-esteem, author relived some conversations she's buried deep down and poured it into this. talk of diets, illusion to poor-food-relationship, again, proceed with maturity and caution.

The rain seemed to match your mood, beating down on Hawkins, Indiana residents relentlessly until you finally felt like a sopping piece of paper - ready to fall apart the second someone touched you. You tugged Billy's hoodie up higher on your head, tightening your hand in his as you hold the umbrella above you both while rushing for his car.

Moments before, you were hardly paying attention to anything around you as you were sat on the bleachers; trying to focus on your homework but the teachers must've felt the energy shift in the school and actually backed off of piling the work on. The weather seemed to drag everyone down, and perhaps, that was the reason for those harrowing comments you caught in the locker room right before lunch, that still plagued you.

Billy had another detention to serve because he was the "star" of the basketball team, meaning Coach got him out of after school detentions. Didn't mean he didn't get them still, just that he served during the lunch hour; interrupting the limited 'free time' you and Billy have. It left you alone, and while you had friends to sit with at lunch, you were feeling down since the previous evening and your mother made comments about your weight.

"Hmm, you feelin' okay, sweetie?" You mother asked, standing above you with a plate stalled in her hand.

"Yes, Mom, why? Don't I look all right?"

She tisked her tongue and turned to set your plate down on the counter, away from you at the table. "You're looking a little, well," she trailed off, shrugging as she used her hand to talk, "pudgy. Are you keeping up with your diet?"

"Mom," you groaned, sighing sadly.

"Janet," your father growled in warning, sat across from you.

"What, Hector?" She snapped. "It's a mother's job to make sure her baby girl isn't ruining her life!"

"I'm not ruining my life, Mom," you tried to interject, but the truth was, you were much closer to your father, and after you and Billy got serious (complete with your first pregnancy scare), you went to your father expressing interest in birth control.

Now, ask anyone else, and it was a 'smart, responsible decision', but ask your conservative mother? And birth control might as well been a death sentence.

The Pill wasn't widely accepted yet, but your father trusted you to be safe and after going to your OB/GYN together, he learned much more about contraceptive, and how condoms only work 99% of the time, before giving you parental consent. It was kept a secret from your mother, who would've surely slut-shamed you, but now you're wondering if keeping her in the dark was right.

It's true, The Pill made you put a few extra pounds on, but you didn't think it was bad. Your hips became shapely, your thighs rounding some, and your belly soon had a layer of "pudge". It wasn't a bad weight gain in your eyes, but if it was enough for your mother to notice, you knew it was enough for others to, as well.

"Well, you're looking heavier than usual!" Your mother snapped at you, making both you and your father shrink in your seats. Janet was a scary woman, and her words were law; her eyes blazing in anger as she look at you two. "And Hector! You let her drop cheerleading! No wonder she's putting weight on!"

"Mom!" You tried.

"No!" She raged, shoving your full plate into the sink and watching it shatter. "No daughter of mine is going to become a lard-ass in my house! We're going back on your diet, and you're going back to cheerleading - and that is the end of it!"

"Mom, I don't like cheer, anymore," you tried. "I was e-even thinking of going for softball in the spring - "

"Softball!?" She repeated with disgust. "So you can work on your manly figure, huh!? No! I will not let my daughter ruin her beautiful, feminine figure! Bad enough I let you get this heavy, but that's all over now! Tomorrow, you bring home a new permission form for cheerleading, or don't bother coming home. Now - here."

She spat her last word as she set a bowl of steamed veggies in front of you, glaring once more, before taking up your toddler brother to move into the living room. Your father caught your eye and mouthed an apology, watching you nod as you forked a stem of broccoli into your mouth. He stood, and within moments, you were heading for your room as Janet and Hector started their nightly yelling match that would only result in him sleeping on the couch - again.

While Billy was serving detention with Mr. Shwartz, you were pacing the length of the bathroom out of sheer anxiety. You eyed your outfit in the mirror, sighing in malcontent as your top showed off more of your figure than you'd realized. Figuring Billy had a hoodie in his locker, you turned for the door, and side-stepped out of the way of four cheerleaders, who were entering. They offered fake smiles, greeting you with sickly-sweetness; making you internally flinch as you remembered being in that particular crowd.

Only a few steps out of the room, you realized you forgot your backpack, and doubled back; only a few feet into the bathroom to grab your bag when the four cheerleaders were heard from their stalls, laughing, "Did you see what she was wearing? I mean! What was that!?"

"I know," another scoffed. "Like, sorry, babe, that top was cute two years ago - it's a little small now!"

"A little?" Another repeated, laughing. "Girl, that top barely covers her tits! Honestly, what does Billy see in her? It's like watching a cow try to fit in a tiny top!"

"Hey! At least her tits and ass actually finally came in, you remember how mis-shaped she was before!"

"Must be relationship weight."

"Doubt Billy's gonna stick around much longer! I mean, she's just letting herself go, and it's embarrassing to witness!"

Their laughter followed you out of the bathroom; your eyes full of tears as you rushed down the hallway. Reaching Billy's locker, you easily punched the combo in before wrenching the door open, snagging his hoodie, and only finding mild comfort when it was finally over your head and his scent invading your sense. Billy was bigger than you due to his incessant working out, leaving his hoodie a little big on you - and God, was it a life-saver now.

You were relieved for the extra material that seemingly still dwarfed you.

During the transition to class after lunch, you saw the four cheerleaders again; pointing at you and snickering to one another, making your anxiety spike once more. For the rest of the day, you couldn't find it in you to care for anything your teachers drowned on about, and when the final bell rang, you made a beeline for the gym to get comfortable until Billy was done practice.

Which brings us to the present, where you were trying to appear as small as possible on the bleachers with Billy's hoodie tugged up your head. You listened to the rain beat on the school's roof, then to the endless squeaking of the boys' basketball team sneakers.

Two hours later, you heard Billy calling your name. "C'mon, pretty girl!" He chuckled, offering his hand as you darted down the stairs.

"Hi, good practice," you whispered, pausing on the last step to reach his lips in a greeting kiss before stepping down in full; leaving you at least a foot smaller than he.

"Hey, thanks, baby," he smirked, tossing his arm around your shoulders. "That my hoodie?"

"Mhm," you nodded, fingering the material lightly. "Want it back?"

"Nah, baby, looks better on you," he nodded, pinning you with a confused look. "Everything all right? You look kinda, I don't know, sad?"

"Yeah, sure..."

"Baby," he sighed.

"It's nothing," you whispered, desperate to keep your emotions in check. Billy sighed and lifted your bag from your grip, tossing it onto his shoulder as you opened your umbrella for you both when you stepped outside.

And here, you were feeling more like a weighted piece of soggy paper that would've torn apart at any intruding touch, but only feeling able to stay together from Billy's grip on your hand. The rain was unbearable and started to sway sideways from the harsh, cold wind of late January; honestly shocking you that it wasn't snow yet.

After jogging to the car, Billy made sure to open your door and make sure you were in safely before shutting the door and rushing for his own. Once he dropped in, Billy sighed heavily and looked at you with concern, "All right, I know it's not nothing, so, don't try that with me. C'mon, baby, tell me what's wrong. Someone say something?"

"Billy," you sighed, reaching for his hand to idly toy with his fingers. He waited, knowing you sometimes need a bit of time to warm up to whatever was on your mind. In an effort to comfort you, he reached out to adjusted the heat setting of the car, letting it blast for a few moments before turning it down to a steady flow.

"We're not leavin' until you tell me what's botherin' you, pretty girl." You sighed at his words, tears springing to your eyes and making Billy tighten his hand in yours. "Who did it? Who hurt you?"

Your shoulder meekly shrugged as you felt his distinct protectiveness swell to fill the entire car; finally admitting, "It's... Kinda two separate things from yesterday and today..."

"Start with the first," he soothed, but you still felt his projected anger. You knew Billy hated your poor self esteem and trust me, he'd done wonders to help build you up - but while it took 1,000 compliments to build you up, it only takes one to knock you into the dirt. "Hey, baby, it's only me," he comforted when he felt your panic swell. "Only me, pretty girl, you're just talking to me, c'mon..."

You nodded, sniffling, "Well... Can I ask if you're... Attracted to me anymore?"

"Why would you ever ask that?" Billy frowned, sounding genuinely put off. "Baby, hey, hey, look at me, please. C'mon, look at me, pretty girl," he coaxed you into turning towards him, hand resting along your jawline to pet his thumb over the apple of your cheek. "What's going on? Who said what to you that would ever make you think I'm not attracted to you anymore? C'mon, you know that couldn't be true even if you tried."

You chuckled lightly at his complement before shrugging a bit, but hanging onto the wrist that was holding your cheek, "You know how I went on The Pill?"

"Mhm."

"Well, one of the side effects is... Is weight gain."

"Okay?"

"And, you know how Daddy was the one who took me to get it?" You pulled his hand down to hold in your lap.

"Yeah, 'cause your mom is batshit crazy," he chuckled, eyeing you wearily as you didn't always like him talking about your mother like that. Most of the time, she was supportive; but she had her own issues and sore spots that were taken out of you unjustly. And Billy worked tirelessly to make you understand that you are not your mother's worst insults.

But for this particular comment, you nodded in agreement, "Right, yeah, so, Daddy approved the medicine and we didn't tell Mom... So, because of that, she doesn't know I'm on it and noticed that I've gain some weight..."

"Oh, no," he sighed.

"Yeah," you whispered. "So, she noticed, right?"

"Okay?"

"She completely lost it on me, saying I was pudgy, saying I was going back on a diet, and all this other really hateful, awful shit. A-And today, I-I don't know, I just got a little overwhelmed. And then, there was the thing with the cheerleaders, again."

"What do you mean? What'd they do now?"

"Bee, take a breath," you whispered, squeezing his hand. "They noticed the change, too... Made a few comments about it when they thought I wasn't around," you sighed, feeling encouraged to continue by the way his thumb swept over the back of your hand. "And Mom wants me back on the cheer squad because it'll help get me back in shape... But how can I be on that team when they talk about me so fucking easily? And so hatefully? L-Like it's not my fault, there's so many medications that cause weight gain, or weight loss, and it's like I need to project that to be understood? That doesn't make sense, and girls are just so mean, and I don't know, I'm just - it's all so much right now!"

The tears got bigger and your breathing became shallow, making Billy sigh and tug you across the center console. "C'mere, c'mere, c'mere, c'mere, c'mere," he repeated until you were out of your seat and on his lap securely. "You listen to me," he sighed in a whisper, petting over your back, "you are the most beautiful woman I've ever known, okay? Extra weight or not, you're gorgeous to me. You're right, there's plenty of shit out there that can cause weight gain and it's not fair that people don't outright understand that. Fuck what everyone else says, you hear me? They only wish for a fraction of this ass," he chuckled, smacking a hand to a cheek before giving a hearty jiggle, "and to have your brains, your wit, your humor..."

"Did you do something?" You asked teasingly, resting against his chest comfortably, manicured hand scratching into his hair for your own comfort. "Kissing my ass pretty well."

"Nah, just want you to understand that I'm obsessed with you and everything about you, and that it doesn't matter to me how much you weigh or what you look like - 'cause I fell in love with much, much more than that," he whispered, pulling back to press his lips to your forehead. "I know it's easier said than done, pretty girl, but don't listen to them. They're just fucking jealous of you, they're unhappy in their lives, 's the only reason anyone talks shit about anyone these days - 's all just pure jealousy."

"And my Mom?"

He sighed, tugging you in closer, "She's just... In her own fucked up, really warped way, she's trying to protect you, I guess. I'm not saying it's the right way, or even the right thing to do, but she's trying in her own way. But you don't need to hear that shit - I know how much it hurts," he sighed. "Just listen to me on this, hey? You're so fucking beautiful, and those bitches are jealous."

"Bee?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can you stay with me tonight?" You pouted a little, offering him your best puppy-dog-eyes.

"How can I say no?" He smirked, nodding at you. "I'll stay, baby, yeah. Your mom home?"

"No, she's working late, and you know she comes home and just crashes on Friday nights..."

"All right," he sighed, petting a strand of hair from your forehead. "You want me to say something to her when I see her?"

"No, no, please don't," you begged, sighing after. "I uh... I'm gonna go back to cheer... Maybe placate her with one thing, since I can't really control my weight."

His head cocked, "Thought you were gonna go for softball in the spring? Baby, you lettin' her words get to you?"

"Billy, you know better than anyone in this town how heinous parents can be... So, maybe the easiest thing right now is to go back to cheer to keep her calm."

He sighed, shaking his head, "Nah, you wanted - "

"Billy, I want peace more than anything."

"She doesn't get to bully you into things you don't want to - "

"Neil doesn't get to bully you, Bee, but we both just deal with it - right? We have ticking-time-bombs for parents and you and I have learned to diffuse them instead of letting them blow up."

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. He hated when you used Neil to deflect his anger, but you had a long day, and your emotions were out of control. "All right, truce, truce, truce," he relented. "You wanna go back to cheer, I'll support you, baby. But please do it because you want to, and not because your mother bullied you into it."

You chuckled lowly, "Yeah, I've been in cheer so long, maybe I won't switch up my sport yet. Might wait for college for that."

He cocked his head, asking, "Could you do both?"

"Oh, uh, I'm not sure..."

"I'll ask Coach on Monday," he assured softly, squeezing your thighs. "Wanna go to Joey's?"

"That's in the next town, Bee."

"And you love that chocolate shake they have," he smirked. "C'mon, baby, 's been a long day... Lemme treat you to something that's gonna make you smile."

Sighing gently, you nodded, "Okay, but we're splitting the shake."

He smirked, "You better not order the salad, either. Or I'll take you home, drive to her work, and have a word with your mother."

"Don't," you warned, then sighed. "All right, if I order the burger, what about the sweet potato fries?"

"Deal," he beamed, leaning in to peck your lips. "C'mon," he chuckled, helping you climb back over him to settle in the passenger seat again. "But I'm ordering us regular fries - sweet potatoes in a shake? Nah, that's just gross."

You chuckled, "You order the regular fries, please. I'm craving the cinnamon-butter they have."

"Oh, shit," he remembered, nodding, "all right, yeah, you get the sweet potato fries and butter, I'll get the regular fries, we split them?"

"Yessir," you smiled softly, reaching for his hand to lace together in your lap. "Thank you..."

"For what, baby?"

"Helping... I wasn't having the best day, but you really helped."

"You know I love you," he smiled, "and you know when you're sad, I'm sad, but when you're happy, I'm happy."

You let your head rest on his shoulder; fingers toying together as he drove you out of Hawkins High School, heading out of town for the diner with fancy cinnamon-butter.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove one shot #billy stranger things #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 20 days

Text

I finally managed to finish this hurt-comfort piece from last month ^^' And it is very much hurt-comfort, so prepare accordingly

Summary: Fuegoleon overhears his wife on a communicator talking to some man he doesn't know, it is followed by said man badmouthing him, suggesting his wife to divorce him, and marry his (the man's) son instead. She then proceeds to give the man a piece of her mind. She and Fue talk afterwards, some comforting, and flirting ensues

Pairing: Fuegoleon x Solara Genre: Hurt-comfort Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~2,0k Contains: Feelings of inadequacy, fears and self-doubts, badmouthing, (kinda) strong language in some point I guess, hurt-comfort, happy end, maybe some suggestive themes (?), emotional piece, fluffy end, happy teasing at the end, oh and Fue is implied to be impotent by an idiot in reference to some earlier event (it's one sentence flashback), but I promise a happy end for the happy couple!

“I don’t understand why you are with him?”

The statement caught Fuegoleon off guard. Despite it not being something completely unheard of in the noble circles.

Someone was always jealous of someone, there were conflicting interests of different kind, or then someone was simply wearing rose coloured glasses. The reasons might have differed, but the statement, the sentiment of ‘you could do better’ was nothing new.

And while he wasn’t one to pry, the fact that the statement was spoken… in his own home, the Vermillion estate, he… Something made him stop in his track. Behind the partially open door. And just listen.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He could feel warmth draining from his face as he could hear the voice of his wife. His beloved, gentle, loving wife.

“You really want to know?” Spoke the voice of a man he did not know.

“Well, since you started already?”

There was sarcasm in her tone, along with annoyance, and anger.

She sounded defiant.

But there was still a sense of creeping dread, of fear and defeat, that seemed to glide over the floor and into his shadow, making him feel the weight of his doubts. The things he had thought would have been left in the dusts of time, or would at least be nearly conquered. But here they were, lifting their ugly heads, making his eyes fall onto his right arm. The extremity that he had created with his mana, his power alone, and which he governed with his mana control, and sheer willpower, at all times. To not burn and scorch when not needed. To maintain shape and poise, despite fire itself wishing to do anything but.

The flames, the fire, the ever-present reminder of… his failures. And with the flickering flames, another memory surfaced. Perhaps one of the most vicious statements that had ever been uttered to him.

Wives in unhappy marriages usually rely in artificial … extremities... to keep them satisfied. But what a sorry excuse is it when the husband needs to do the same.

It had been a cheap shot.

And one that had barely made sense.

Barely but… it had stricken a nerve in him.

Most things that were thrown at him, he could take, but that… that had been a sore spot. And the sickening taste of that memory seemed to follow him, come back, even if only scarcely, but still… in his moments of self-doubt, of pain and sorrow.

“He’s a workaholic,” the man’s voice stated. “Overly focused on rules and regulations, has no sense of humour, has this sour expression all the time like he’s smelling someone’s sock sweat and … whatever he has going on with that eyeliner has got to go. I thought he’s royalty. Not a jester.”

There was a moment of silence.

A deafening silence.

He didn’t know what to think. What to feel. And he couldn’t see his wife’s expression, so all the had to read, was the silence.

Her mana was there, but he couldn’t read it.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing, or a bad thing. That he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell what she might have been thinking, with the statements made. What path she was travelling. But. One thing he did know, was that she was going to go that path to the end.

Because there was no sway coming from behind the door.

Whatever she had decided, had been decided before the silence.

“And what?” She asked. “You think you could do better?”

“I have a son of marrying age, and I know you have kids and all, but blended families are the-“

“Why?”

There was a pause.

Another silence, another third of an eternity, during which he didn’t know what to think.

“Why what?”

“Why do you think you’d be better?”

The room fell into another silence. His mind failed to comprehend.

But it seemed, that the man’s voice was just as baffled.

“What I hear, is that you have an issue with how responsible he is. That you have a problem with how he’s trying to do the right thing, and do it correctly.” She started. “And I will have you know,” her voice was low, and quiet, but it held gravity to it. “He is responsible. He takes his job seriously and is trying to do everything like it should be done; keep the best interest of his people in mind, keep them safe and listen before placing judgements. But. He still manages to show love and care to his family. Because his loyalty is to his family first and foremost. He is a father, husband, and a knight, in that order. And whatever bullshit followed your opinion after that, is just you, trying to badmouth him.”

His eyes were still down, but he didn’t see whatever was laid before him. His mind was instead engulfed into thoughts, into the swaying sea of his emotions. And… before he realised it, he notices that the corners of his mouths had tugged up ever so slightly.

It was a strange combination of a lot of thoughts and feelings, which were neither particularly heavy nor light. But they were one thing: secure.

There was security in the moment, the things she had stated.

It was a quiet kind of security. The kind that didn’t make conscious thoughts run through his mind; but they weren’t needed. He didn’t need words to it, because he knew.

He knew what he had known for a long time already, but which, it seemed, the world wanted to make him guess again and again. But there was something he had to wonder.

He knew that she loved him. He knew that she’d stay loyal to him. But… the thing he found himself wondering, and the thing he felt that he had to wonder, was-

“Oh.”

He turned his head, realising the door nearly bumped onto his side.

“Sorry honey, I didn’t see you there. I was… umm… I got off from a call and I…” she trailed off, shaking her head. Her eyes were closed, as if she was trying to shut out the topics of the conversation, and focus on what to do now. She swayed her hand lazily in the air, as if to try and assist the thoughts that must’ve been circling in her head, to flow again. “It doesn’t matter.”

Just like that. It didn’t matter. Except that it did.

“Who was it?” He inquired, turning towards her with a gentle motion, as if he was trying to ease into the conversation.

“Some…” she opened her mouth, closed it, opened again and… sighed. “The umm… what was his name? You remember the pretentious man from three months ago who came to visit with the prospect of hoping that you’d give him advice while conducting business in relation to knight grimoire cases.”

“I remember,” he nodded.

“I don’t know what that man is on, but he needs to either lower the dose, or double it.”

A faint smile tugged the corner of his lips.

“Such audacity and, and, rudeness and delusions of grandeur or desperation or,” she blabbered eyes widening with every syllable, her voice growing louder from word to word. “Or just having his head shoved up so [goddamn high up his own ass that he cannot for the life of him see anything besides his own-]”

“Honey, honey…” he took a hold of her hand, stopping the flurry of words that bubbled with rage and discontent from her lungs, spat out in her own language because Cloverian didn’t seem to suffice. “It’s alright, my love,” he stated while taking a step closer to her.

His breathed glided over her forehead, as the syllables of his words, his whispers drizzled down from his lips and into her hair… making her eyes close as she took a deep breath, and tried to let the anger flow down, and down, and down… to the bottoms of her feet. His warmth sought to envelop her into an embrace, as his hands simply continued to hold hers. “It’s alright, my love,” he repeated as his thumb stroked her hand.

“But it’s…” her mouth twisted into a grimace, as if she was in pain, pricked and stung by a thorn from the shadows beneath her feet, from the emotions and thoughts of the conversation that she was trying to stomp to the ground. “It’s really not. I…” she looked at him, opened her eyes for the first time since he took her by the hand, and gazed into his eyes with a flicker. Uncertain if she should tell him or not. If she should speak out what had been dared to say to her and she just…

“I heard you.”

“I… you..”

“I heard you,” he repeated with a nod. “What was said on the other side of the line and… what you replied.”

Her gaze averted, looked to the side as her grimace only grew. “He-“

“There will be audacious, shameless individuals, who will try anything,” he stated. “Say anything, and… I just…”

“But I should’ve told him off, properly, really told him what I thought about whatever bullshit opinion he had and-“

“Honey,” he stated, nearly laughed, “darling, love,” he continued while placing his forehead against hers. “The love of my life…” he whispered, uttered with hushed syllables with closed eyes. “Aren’t I always telling you to behave?”

There was a brief pause, a moment of silence, at the end of which she replied with a whisper of her own. “You are…”

“That is about how much you can behave, while, properly, letting someone have a piece of your mind. And… from what I heard, there was a strong word or two in there,” he mused with the latter sentence, making a single amused huff leave her lungs. “So you made your stance very clear, and we have all the more reason to steer closer to another direction when it comes to grimoire cases.”

“Still, I feel that I didn’t… say enough,” she admitted, while nudging his head with hers.

He pulled away, just enough to place his hand onto her cheek and look her into the eyes.

“Then what would have been enough?” He asked, which was a fair question.

What really would have been enough for her to say? Made the scores even? Not make her feel this burning and pricking sensation in her that still tried to flare up?

She didn’t think there was such a thing. Which is what she admitted. “Nothing…”

“Then it was enough,” he told her while stroking her cheek with his thumb.

“God…” she shook her head with bittersweet amusement. “I’m supposed to be comforting you since you heard it, not this way around.”

“You did,” he told her with a chuckle. “You comforted by standing up for me.”

“Ah, so no kisses and cuddles then?” She teased as the emotions still mixed within her, but the melancholy was beginning to subside.

“Hmm…” he hummed in thought with a smirk. “When did I turn down such an offer?”

“I was just asking,” she grinned while leaning up, so that her lips inched closer to his.

“Were you now?” He mirrored the movement, lips nearly touching, but not quite, as the word dripped from him as if some divine nectar that she could almost taste…

“Mhm~” she hummed back, eyes flickering between his lips and his gaze. “Unless you have other plans.”

“Plans can change.”

“Oh really now?”

“Mhm.”

“I see…” she placed her hands onto his chest, and let them slide over his jacket, under his cape, until they settled onto his shoulders, and pressed herself against him. But her face was still hovering against his, eyes tracing every line, every exquisitely crafted feature, as she could feel his warmth flowing to her.

How was I so lucky…? How did I earn this… you, in my life? He thought before pressing his lips against hers, taking a hold of her upper lip, and drinking in her love and affection.

The world might not always been a kind place, but… with the right people in it, it didn’t matter. Because his world was soft, and gentle, everything he could have hoped for, and more.

#fuegoleon vermillion #solara equinox #fuegoleon x solara #black clover fanfiction

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reblog-house · 22 days

Text

An Alien Find

Characters: Gem, Pearl

Wc: 987

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 251, “Out There”

Ao3: Here!

When Gem settled on the mountain with her dwarf friend, Impulse, it wasn’t just because of its advantageous position, far away from civilization and with a river on the skirts of the mountain.

The landscape across from her… there was no word for it other than alien.

No, not magical. She knew magic better than most and it didn’t look like that. Hills that twisted and rolled. Platforms of soil, forming natural underpasses. Trees of colors she never would have imagined possible. Purple, blue, pines of yellow and orange. Crystal flowers. Vines that supported their own weight, growing up in the air. And over one of the hills…

A mushroom. Towering over nearly everything. Teal. Like two heads of a bird, sprouting from an orange stem. Nothing about it felt… earthly.

And next to it, a flower, the only thing that stood taller than the mushroom. Its petals reached out like tentacles into the skies. Its roots shaped the soil around it like a magnet, green tubes that left the ground. From afar, you could confuse them for moss-ridden bridges.

But not everything was natural, and that interested her just as much. Builds sprawled over the landscape. Grey, but not stone. And a tower, though it was unfair to just call it that. It stood as tall as the flower and mushroom. Multiple layers of different colors and shapes. Rings floated around it.

And they were empty.

So far, Impulse and her hadn’t seen anyone around. No one who could’ve built or lived in those buildings. And yet, they weren’t crumbling from disrepair.

Neither had crossed the river yet, fearing what could reside there, all the same.

They still chose that spot to live in because sometimes, the views were worth the risk.

And anyway, their distance was changing today! She thought she saw some movement, as she was setting up base — a bigger one, not the small treehouse she was currently living in. It was nice, but obviously temporary. She was an elf. Sure, she may have been exiled for befriending a dwarf and also her many crimes of treason with said dwarf and some beheadings here and there, but she still had standards. And those standards were a big castle with a dungeon where she could display the heads of her enemies.

And so, she filled herself with courage and buckled her sword.

One could never be too careful.

Impulse was too busy doing dwarf things underground and she wanted to do this on her own. Still, she called out to him, just in case, and when he didn’t respond, she shrugged. She was intimidating enough on her own. And if the being wasn’t intimidated by her at first, they would quickly learn to adapt.

She slipped on her wooden glider wings, something she and Impulse designed for quick get-aways, and with a running start, jumped off the mountain.

The closer she got, the more she was hit with how gorgeous it all looked.

She descended gracefully in front of the buildings and closed her wings. She unsheathed her blade.

Slowly, she approached the main building’s gates.

The crushing of grass behind her made her swivel, sword outstretched, her braid whipping from the movement.

“Oi, mate! Careful with that thing, you almost hit me!”

Gem’s eyes widened and her arm lingered uncertain as she processed the message and what she was looking at.

A woman was standing there. Human, by the look of things, but you could never be too certain. Tall, long brown hair, a sloped nose, friendly looking eyes, and some very strange clothes. Forest green… not quite breeches, that extended over her torso, covering a black shirt. And on her head, the strangest thing of all, a helmet without face protection. Orange, and with a texture she couldn’t recognize. Actually, her boots seemed to be of a similar material.

Gem took a step back, certain with her sword. “Who are you?” she asked with a threat in her voice.

The other got the memo and stepped back too, arms still in front of her. “Wh— I should be asking you! You burst into my home and threaten me?”

That got Gem to finally lower her sword. “This is your home?”

The lady looked around with mild panic and then deflated. “Yes.” Then, her eyes shone, body re-energized. “Oh, you must be one of the new neighbours! You’re human, right?”

She looked too eager, asking that.

“Uh…”

“Oh, are you not?”

Gem pointed at her ears and the woman nodded absently.

“Right… So, not human?”

“... No?”

Okay, whatever that lady was, she definitely was not a human, like she’d thought. They’d have to keep a close eye on her.

“And your friend? The short one?”

“A dwarf.”

The definitely-not-human lady took a second and then pouted. “Okay.”

“What, you looking for humans?”

“W-well, of course I am looking for my people!”

Right, so that’s how they were doing things. Gem decided to play along.

“I see!” She looked over the constructions. “And they aren’t in one of those buildings?”

The stranger shook her head. “No, I don’t know what happened. I’m trying to study what happened to the– to my people. They were all here and one day, they disappeared. I figured if you two were humans too… you may have an idea of what happened.”

“Sorry, no.” Gem genuinely was sorry. “I was too busy trying to commit regicide.”

“Oh.” Their eyes met. “And that is?”

Gem brushed it off with her hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay…” The woman sounded unconvinced. “Oh, you asked for my name. I’m Pearlescent Moon. Pearl, for short.”

“Nice to meet you, Pearl.” Gem stretched out a hand. “Gemini Tay. Gem.”

Pearl looked at the hand for a long moment, frowning, then met her gaze. “Um, nice to meet you too, Gem! I’ll have to meet your ‘dwarf’ friend next!”

Yes, she would definitely have to.

#hermitfic #soup group #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #hermitcraft season 9 #hc s9 #fff251 #my writing

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is-the-bug-video-cute · 2 years

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Karen’s Blog, August 20 2009:

A few days ago I finally went on Cornell’s annual alumni field trip to Shoals Marine Laboratory, on an island off the coast of New Hampshire. Met a lot of nice and interesting people on the boat trip over—Hi Sue, hi Bob, Hi Louise and Stefan and Hannah, hi, Fern. We saw lots of sea birds and seals. We toured the island, watched the bird banding, visited labs, inspected some (very tidy) student dorms.

Cornell offers college-credit courses all summer; students come over for two week stays or longer. At lunch time I sat down with a bunch of students. We all started talking. The girl next to me looked at my name tag, startled, and said “Are you Karen Pryor?” Yes. She was very excited. “Your book changed my life.” Hmm. Too young for it to be Nursing Your Baby; she must mean Don’t Shoot the Dog; the new book’s only been available three weeks.

No, Lily Strassberg meant Reaching the Animal Mind, and got a jacketless and already well-used copy out of her back pack for me to sign.

Lily is 17. She has been clicker training dogs since she was ten, and now teaches public obedience classes. She read my story in Chapter 1 about training a hermit crab to ring a bell. So, for her class research project last week at the marine lab, she set out to train a crab to ring a bell. Her professor doubted it would work, but she was so excited about it, he let her try.

Lily collected some of the local hermit crabs around the island. They were very small and timid so she used the local green crab Carcinus maenas instead. (These are pointy-shelled Portunid crabs, like the blue crabs we eat on the East Coast, only of course they are green not blue.)

Lily used the same reinforcement procedure I did--feeding with forceps, using the movement of the forceps as the click. She shaped the behavior of shoving a hanging weight with a claw, an improvement over my more complicated job of pulling a string down.

Just to be safe, in spare moments across two days she trained two crabs, Crab A and Crab B, Abby and Bertha. She took good and thorough data, photographs, and video too. When she presented her project, the other students burst into applause. The professor said her study was ‘practically publishable.’ When the experiment was over, Lilly released Abby and Bertha back to the ocean in the same place where they were collected.

I was thrilled. So, apparently, were the crabs, and here’s why I think that.

For each session the crab had to be moved into a small experiment tank with a grid drawn on the floor (to measure exactly how far the crab came toward the target each time.) At first the crabs were hard to catch, and struggled mightily when lifted into the air. But soon, they got it—Oh, I’m flying to the place where I train them to feed me delicious stuff—and they just held still to be picked up by the shell, and relaxed completely in the air, legs hanging down calmly. Now I ask you: isn’t that cool? Clicker-wise ‘operant’ crabs?

What were the chances that out of 100 people or more in the room I would sit down next to Lily?

You will be hearing more about Lily, I bet.

#science #hermit crabs #crabs #crustaceans #mod poppy

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flu5zn · 4 months

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⠀✼⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀،،⠀PROLOGUE : BALANCE.

almost. it’s a big word for me. i feel it everywhere. almost home. almost happy. almost changed. almost, but not quite. not yet. soon, maybe.⠀┉⠀from, “Almost Home” by joan bauer.

&.⠀ʿʿ⠀CHARACTERS﹕DEVIN XIE feat. her family. &.⠀ʿʿ⠀WORD COUNT﹕1.7K &.⠀ʿʿ⠀WARNINGS﹕swearing, drugs, weird family dynamics, corey catches a stray. &.⠀ʿʿ⠀NOTES﹕gonna be doing a little prologue series as kind of a character study for each of the members to give insight into what they were doing before the band. as well as some of the things that shaped their choice to join the band.

Devin could never tell when her parents were angry with her. Whether it was because they were always angry with her or because she never cared enough to figure it out, she wasn't quite sure. She wasn't exactly the perfect daughter, that she can admit. But their perpetual disappointment in her never bothered her as much as they liked to think it did.

She had developed her brand of nonchalance pretty early on. Always the child who rolled her eyes while her parents gave important speeches to important people, always the child those same important people avoided making small talk with. By the time she was old enough to drive, Devin did her best to avoid those important speeches altogether. But if she couldn't, there was always a group of misfit nepo babies with plenty of substances that numbed her spirit in ways only designer drugs could. Getting high was often the only time she felt truly free. Outside of the watchful eyes of her older sisters, and their parents, and the scrutiny of her parents' high positions.

Inside her bubble of intoxication, a reality fabricated entirely for herself allowed her to pretend she was nobody for a few drugged moments. Devin was always at peace when she was within that paradise. Her breathing slowed, her pupils blown, her speech slowed with a smile that curved at the edges of lips that had yet to be touched by a surgeon. Her best friends, Corey and Genesis, called her selfish. Claiming the little care she had while sober disappeared as she immersed herself within her hazy world.

"Sometimes I start to care about you and wonder where you disappear to. Then, I remember who you are and I care less."

Jennifer always reminded Devin of a bitter old woman. Hardened by the burden of being the eldest daughter and the weight of perfection on her shoulders, it was no secret why Jennifer had always been such a hardass.

Devin's eyes rolled impossibly far at her sister's words. "If I wanted your sympathy I would've keeled over and put a bullet in my head by now. Fuck off, Jenn."

The two weren't close, they never got the chance to be. Equally stubborn, and equally stoic, the sisters were at odds from the moment Devin was born. As the story goes, four-year-old Jennifer was the first to make the very quiet baby Devin cry when her parents first took her home from the hospital.

It should be worth mentioning that Marilyn Xie was a known compulsive liar, a fact a very young Devin had been fed by her father, George, when her mother had still been a subject of her admiration.

It was interesting to see the two sisters interact. It wasn't that they hated each other. No— Jennifer thought Devin too resourceful to resent her, and Devin found Jennifer too resilient to be anything more than a nuisance. In all honesty, the sisters' relationship was complicated. Perhaps if they were born into a different family they would've been closer, perhaps not. Devin never cared much to ponder the possibility for too long. It gave her a headache to consider alternative timelines.

To Jennifer’s credit, however, she wasn't Evelyn.

"You're so fucking tense, go get laid and lighten up Chrissy."

Evelyn always made it a point to call Devin by her birth name. She held that power over her younger sister and dangled the name over her head, daring her to lash out. Devin never did lash out, she knew better than to be upset over anything Evelyn could come up with to insult her. No matter how low.

Evelyn was much too intelligent to be aloof or indifferent—no matter how much she tried to act it. Devin never quite understood the second eldest daughter and all the peculiarities of her behavior. Dubbed a "gifted" child before she could consistently perform long division, Evelyn was always "just enough". She was the planned second child, the smart one with the perfect arrangement of genes that gifted her a beauty that surpassed all of her siblings.

"My options are getting slim considering you've fucked half of Manhattan at this point."

Admittedly a gross exaggeration, Devin, and Evelyn ran in close circles. Only two classes above her younger sister, Evelyn had somehow managed to make connections with anyone remotely close to Devin. Her shadow remained large over Devin’s very existence, towering over her despite being nearly four inches shorter.

"Half of Manhatten thinks you’re a bitch anyways," with a huff Evelyn was off to god knows where. She did that often, as their parents liked to willfully ignore. For every pointed observation Jennifer made of Devin's habits, their parents constructed three more double standards to support their bias toward their two eldest daughters.

Evelyn never peeved Devin the way that Jennifer did. Devin knew better than to cross Evelyn who was much more resentful than Jennifer ever had the energy to be.

On the last occasion Devin had decided to test the grasp of Evelyn’s wrath, she had ended up with a headache. The kind of headache you only get when you witness your best friend, tiptoe across the edge of his father’s penthouse after experiencing his first heartbreak at the hands of your gorgeous older sister.

"Evelyn cheated on Corey because she’s a bitch and that’s just what she does. Not sure what that has to do with you." Stephanie had always been the most agreeable of Devin's four sisters.

The two weren't close by any meaning of the word. They simply tolerated each other enough to get along for an extended period. Finding a common enemy in Jennifer’s self-righteousness brought the girls together once Stephanie entered high school. Often locking themselves in Devin's room to smoke weed, the burn of grapefruit-scented candles mixing with the potent herb to create a smell that only meant trouble. It wasn’t lost on Devin that Stephanie would never go further than smoking. The fourth daughter leaned empty-handed against walls Devin and her friends would crouch next to when they snorted lines off tables. She’d pretend she didn’t see them, keeping guard at the door before some sleeve offered her a joint to keep her busy.

It was a mystery to Devin how Stephanie managed to fly under their parents' radar for this long when considering how defiant the fourth daughter's true nature was. Though she had considered it might be her cowardice that allowed her to coast by for so long, Devin was convinced she would snap at some point— she never did.

"It has everything to do with me. Corey's a whore, and Evelyn doesn't put enough effort into finding guys I don’t know, to fuck with." Devin sighs, smoke leaving her lips at the sound.

"Fuck this," Stephanie spat, almost mirroring the vengefulness of Evelyn’s nature.

Devin often noted the patterns of her elder sisters' behaviors that embedded themselves into Stephanie’s behavior. In all honesty, Stephanie didn't have much of a personality of her own. She was a copycat; doomed to comparisons and repetition. She was the fourth child born to their parents, the manifestation of an obsession with righting the ways they went wrong with Jennifer’s stoicism and Evelyn’s callousness and Devin’s nonchalance.

To their credit, it worked.

Devin never could get past Stephanie’s absence of a unique personality. She agreed with everything she said, grew angry when expected to, and suppressed every urge of rebellion Devin knew she was capable of in favor of the security of her trust fund.

Despite her faults, however, no one remotely bothered Devin the way Victoria did.

"Mom and Dad miss you. They're asking when you'll come to visit."

Poor, sweet Victoria Xie. The perfect culmination of George and Marilyn’s parental experiences—and fittingly, hated by all four of her elder sisters.

A perfectionist by both nature and nurture, Victoria could do no wrong. Devin was convinced her youngest sister was physically incapable of disappointing their parents. Though Jennifer praised the youngest for being everything Devin wasn't, even she knew Jennifer wouldn't miss hearing of Victoria's consistent perfection.

"Victoria, stop—"

Devin often found herself high-strung around the youngest Xie sister. Annoyed by her name itself before she ever got to hear her sing-songy Disney Princess tone.

"Christina, I said they miss you."

She often spoke through gritted teeth, holding back her words and reminding herself of her place within the family. She wasn't devoted enough, much less pampered enough by her parents to speak to Victoria the way she could the others. She had to coax herself back into the familiarity of carelessness before she could have any sort of conversation with Victoria.

She was much too sweet, much too often for Devin's comfort. And as Victoria grew older, Devin was sure she became aware of how much the middle child resented having to hold any sort of contact with her. Yet, if she felt any feelings at all for the way Devin avoided her, Victoria never showed it.

Of all four of Devin's sisters, Victoria was the only one who could ever get Devin to care. She liked to imagine her parents used this to their advantage. Drawing Devin out of her isolated existence on the other side of the world to get her to make appearances; an effort to keep up their reputation.

Of all four of Devin's sisters, Victoria remained the only one who could bend Devin to her every will and whim. Though they were frequently their parents' wills and whims, Devin knew better than to cross Victoria. She was much too perfect, too much of the time.

Devin could never compete with perfection.

"Tell them I'll make it for brunch next week."

Her manicured hands massaged her temples with her phone lodged between her right ear and her shoulder blade. Nursing at her headache gave her a moment of clarity, just in time to hear Victoria's response.

"Perfect," her tone perfectly bright. "I’ve already sent you the plane tickets, see you next week, Chrissy."

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cyanide-latte · 2 months

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Get To Know My TWST OCs pt. 4

Ilias & Kallisto, Chrysanthos's Parents (an infodump)

💫💫💫

Figured maybe doing a series of posts like this would help friends and mutuals get to know my OCs better!

Part 1: What Are They Twisted From? | Part 2: What Nicknames Do They Have? | Part 3: Copper's Backstory

This one got a little bit lengthy so I made it all bullet points

Kallisto Shroud, -nee Euphemia

Gorgeous. Plus-sized from a young age, often leading to her being bullied by peers. Even when she tried everything she could to lose weight and slim down, she was still plus-sized compared to other girls.

To try to overcome this, she became a party girl in middle school

You want someone to throw a party? Kallisto will do it and she'll make it so cool and memorable!

Despite her hopes however, while this did make her somewhat popular, she didn't actually gain any true friendships from it

She developed her Signature Spell/Unique Magic to try to help with this. It's called "Life of the Party", and it allows her to push feelings of positivity, euphoria and excitement into other people around her within a certain radius

Again however, this only served to bolster her popularity and reputation as the girl you want at parties, but she still found herself bullied and rejected by the people she most wanted to be friends with

This followed with her as she entered a co-ed arcane academy

Lost what few friendships she did have because she kept chasing superficial acceptance

Eventually the "party girl" reputation caught up with her in her junior year, and at a harsh disciplinary meeting with the headmistress and her parents, Kallisto was told to shape up her act or she would be expelled

She agreed and spent the majority of the year focused on her studies and coursework

Developed an interest in the complex relations between humans and the fae people and made that her focus of study

Started dressing as unflatteringly as she could, hoping that if she looked mousy and blended into the background she would be left alone

Saw a counselor who helped her through that lonely senior year and told her she had no self-confidence and a self-image she needed to work on healing

Kallisto wanted to pursue the studies of human-and-fae interactions and relations into higher education but has to do so on a more casual level, as she was needed to assist with her family's small business after she graduated

But word still got out about the fact she used to be great at throwing parties and has a SS/UM that can ensure guests at a party or event leave happy

She was approached to work as an event planner and would have turned it down if it weren't for all the money she was being offered. She accepted because she wanted to help her family

This led to her taking additional workshops and classes on party planning and event organizing on a professional level

It was during one of these events hosted by the Jupiter family where she was hired to help with the moods of the guests that she met Ilias Shroud

She spotted Ilias about to become the victim of a nasty prank and stepped in to help him out

Upon realizing Ilias was hot, Kallisto became a stammering, tongue-tied mess

The two ditched the party to go have a long conversation where Ilias pointed out some truths about her that made Kallisto uncomfortable but he did so in a gentle way and she realized he was confused about why she tried to hide who she was and was attempting to coax her into being genuine with him

They decided after that conversation to have a long-distance friendship. (This was easier on Kallisto's nerves as she could more confidently chat with Ilias through emails and IMs and on the phone instead of in-person)

Ilias was one of the only people to take a genuine interest in Kallisto's desire to study fae society, and encouraged her to keep pursuing it as a career path

He also made it a point to consistently remind her not to be ashamed of her body and to try to dress and carry herself in a way that was more confident and flattering to her natural figure

Kallisto began falling for him as a result of all of this (he was already hot but somehow he just got even more hot the more she spent time being his friend and falling in love with him)

The day she found out her feelings were reciprocated was the happiest day of her life, at least until the day they got engaged, and even that day wasn't as happy as their wedding day

She learned of S.T.Y.X. gradually during her friendship and romance with Ilias and though he told her several times what she would be getting into, she still chose him

She continues to work in both career paths as best as she can, both the event organizing and the fae liaison, even as she eventually helps Ilias to raise their son, Chrysanthos

Outgoing, happy personality. She's bursting with life and creativity, it practically comes off her in waves, and she's so infectious with positivity, the people around her can't help but smile

(her eyes are delphinium blue and Chrysanthos actually inherits her eye color!)

Ilias Shroud

Middle son of three brothers, easily the most pessimistic of them

A lot of this stems from his Signature Spell/Unique Magic, "Harbinger".

Harbinger developed early, when Ilias was still a child (around 9 years old.) It allows him to divine some insight on other people's fates, but also their suffering, their darkest thoughts and secrets, their soul, and other things.

The Shroud family takes this to mean the blood of the oracles from the Age of the Gods runs in their family line but Ilias is miserable. Harbinger is a huge weight on his shoulders and he cannot control how much information he gets from a person when he tries to divine their fate. He always gets more than he wanted to know or bargained for. Harbinger exacerbates blot accumulation and so the family learns quickly they shouldn't push him to constantly use the spell.

Ilias grows up very gloomy and desperate to find any kind of beauty in even the darkest things. (Yes he grows up goth, he's got the piercings, the wardrobe and all the angsty poetry he writes to prove it.)

Attended Night Raven College and hated every minute of it

Classmates constantly mispronounced his name as "eh-LIE-as", and trying to correct them (his name is pronounced "IL-lee-uhs", thank you,) only led to the nastier classmates nicknaming him "Mentally Ill-ias."

Never really fit in, was constantly ditching club activities, and when it came time for the senior year work-study he practically flew out of there. Anything to get away. Crowley all but had to drag him back by the ankles for formal events.

Ilias gets on track to join the Security, Control and Containment branch of S.T.Y.X. Security specifically is his preference and he's particularly good at monitoring various situations.

Not so much when it always comes to himself though, which is how an old tormentor of his from their school days (an RSA alumnus named Adonias) nearly succeeded in a nasty prank where he spiked Ilias's drink at an event hosted by the Jupiter family

His savior in that instance was Kallisto, who got flustered around him but also promptly offered to buy him a drink to replace it

The two spent hours conversing, during which he asked questions about why she presented herself the way she did, and she also asked questions about why he sees the world the way he does and what kind of sorrows and hurts he carries with him

He admits to wearing anti-magic accessories (they look like chains he wears around his neck) when she tells him that he was the only person not affected by her UM, and he in turn divulges a little about the nature of his own UM to her

Agreeing to be long-distance friends, Ilias leaves the encounter feeling perhaps a little lighter and more hopeful than he has in years

Over time he starts to divulge more about his life and what he can safely share about S.T.Y.X. with Kallisto without violating limitations from his job or putting her in danger

He continues to support her dreams and hopes, and watches from a distance as she grows confident in herself and her body, and he falls head-over-heels during the course of time

This leads to Ilias allowing more of his poetic side to show as he talks with her, often in an attempt to either cheer her up or because he's trying to woo her without directly saying so

Eventually Kallisto confesses her feelings for him (it slips out on accident) and he immediately confesses his own feelings back to her

They start going on dates whenever possible, but they've been friends long enough and are comfortable enough that a proposal and engagement soon follow

During the time of their engagement, Ilias starts to worry and tries to reiterate to Kallisto what it means to marry him, how much she might be giving up in the process and what his family curse might mean for them and any children they have. He wants her to know and be absolutely sure of what she'll be getting into, and that if she wants to back out and call it off, she can.

Kallisto is undaunted and tells him that she chooses him, and that she's going to marry him because she chose him and everything that comes with him. Ilias weeps, feeling for the first time in his life that he can see a happier future.

He goes absolutely all-out to make sure their wedding and honeymoon are everything she wants and more. No expense should be spared for his bride.

Kallisto and, when he's born, their son Chrysanthos are Ilias's entire world. He would kill for them, he would die for them, he would live for them, he would thrive for them

He tends to come across as very eerie, unsettling and humorless in stark contrast to his wife, but he's largely gentle in nature and very thoughtful and aware of the people around him. Very loving and doting on his son and on his nephews, Idia and Ortho. Although he has a vicious temper if you even think about insulting or mocking his wife.

(he's also one of my only OCs I've picked a voice claim for, at least so far! Most people may not be into my favorite band ever, but that's okay, here's a cover of a song that features Ilias's VC, Ville Valo.)

He will not, in fact, turn down an opportunity to gush about Kallisto and tell anyone who is unfortunate enough to be nearby just how much he loves her and how perfect she is and that she's a goddess among women

Very reluctant to use his UM ever but can be persuaded to do so (you just need to sign all of these forms in triplicate first.) Refuses to use his UM on family members.

Anyway thank you for indulging my ramble about Chrys's parents, I love them to bits and pieces. I plan on posting more of the oneshots I've been working on for them.

Taglist: @blithesharem @elenauaurs @tixdixl @ramshacklerumble @inmateofthemind @simons-twsted-children @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @rainesol (let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for posts about my OCs!)

#TWST OCs #Ilias Shroud #Kallisto Shroud #my OCs #OC details #Cyanide speaks

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lesbaimsey · 1 year

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okay so prewarning this one has spoilers for just roll with it: riptide episode 90 that was streamed on twitch today so if you havent seen it and plan to stop reading now ok? ok

so. jay ferin. i love her more than words can express. and in todays episode she seemed to have a bit of a moral dilemma in her head, and didn't outwardly express it much

and a little bit ago condi tweeted saying it was "interesting" how jrwi fans were pointing out her behavior as odd or different.

now some people would see a tweet like that and go "oh wow so is he planning a villain arc for jay or something?" but those people would be Wrong ive decided.

i think jay is having doubts about becoming a pirate. she had just finished telling an old friend that her crew was trying to make a positive change in the world, and convinced her enough for her to have let jay go.

and what happens as soon as she finds chip? the two of them kill someone. and yeah, it was self defense. but they killed someone, and their last words were a word of warning. a message saying that they had made a huge mistake, fucked over allport and potentially the world.

and IMMEDIATELY afterwards, gillion comes crashing down THROUGH THE GROUND AND INTO THE FUCKING OCEAN, with the weight of a fully packed 18-wheeler, killing a man on impact. and sure, kuba kenta was a fiend and absolutely would have killed gillion if gillion hadnt beat him to the punch(or drop, i guess). but gillion had still killed a man, and this certainly wasn't his first time doing so.

and immediately after THAT, both chip and gillion wanted to take kuba kenta as a prisoner. they even tried to convince jay to let them when kira gave them an out to leave if they had just left him. jay had to step away and tell kira just to take him.

and once all of that was said and done, this person who was once a close friend and had agreed to let jay go (not once but TWICE) looked her in the eyes and asked why she was on their side. the side of the riptide pirates.

and for that moment, jay couldn't think of an answer.

but once she got back on that boat, a million answers hit her in a flash. she watched as ollie's eyes lit up as he slowly turned the wheel of the ship, she watched the proud expression on alphonze's face as he guided him through it, she watched earl smack gryffon over the head with his cane for making a mistake while they cooked, she watched queen absentmindedly humming while plucking strings on their guitar, she watched chip excitedly take roofus aside for their drinks, and when she felt that presence walk up behind her, she felt a pang of guilt.

these people were her family. maybe far more of a better one than (most of) her blood family ever was. and she doubted them. she felt guilty for ever even considering the possibility that this wasn't the choice she should have made.

but she thought for a second about what drey had told her. on the midnight rose, crew members had squabbles all the time. hell, her own crew had plenty of them as well. and she knew that just like all the other fights they had, this would pass.

and if it ever comes down to it, if the morality of the riptide pirates starts to gray a bit more, jay knows that she can just whip them back into shape. or just challenge them to a duel. it's definitely her turn anyway.

and as gillion pats her on the shoulder as he leaves, jay decides once more, even if only she is there to know, that she is (and hopes to forever be) a riptide pirate.

and so she leaves gillion to his horrible horrible nightmare ridden sleep, and she leaves chip to catch up with his old friend.

but those two dumbasses are DEFINITELY getting an earful tomorrow.

#riptide spoilers #just roll with it #jay ferin #i dont know man its 3am im just rambling about jay #does any of this even make sense? probably not

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collabwithmyself · 1 year

Text

I finally fucking wrote down Hito's backstory. This took me over an HOUR

⚠️ emotional abuse, child abuse, unsafe sex/unplanned pregnancy, drugging

Hitoshi is the younger son of Hirofumi and Haruka Hidaka. His older brother, Hironori, was planned for, and he wasn't, so this already results in a fair bit of tension.

Nori and Hito's parents are obsessed with keeping up appearances. They intend to shape Nori's life as well as they can, and Hito's sort of a distraction from that. They do the bare minimum to keep him in line, scolding him to make him avoid seeking attention, just trying to get him to keep his head down and not make them look bad. Hito's constantly compared to his older brother, and kind of resents Nori for it.

(Nori's got his own problems with living under constant scrutiny and expectations, and resents Hito for being freer of responsibility than him. But that's a tale for another day.)

After having his thoughts and feelings ignored for pretty much his whole life, Hito takes the first opportunity to dive headfirst into trouble the second he leaves home and no longer has his parents to worry about. He befriends a reckless young man calling himself Jester that's the star of the local community college's wrestling team. Jess is the son of some decently rich and pretty detached assholes, and he's far more annoying and bigoted than he is charismatic.

Unfortunately, Hito, having zero reference for a healthy relationship and just glad someone is paying attention to him, is all too eager to be his friend. Jess drags him down to his level for a while, and the two act crass and irresponsible, like your typical college frat bros. Hito's uncomfortable with some of the stuff he's goaded into doing, and Jess is often outright cruel to him for the sake of a laugh... but at least he likes having Hito around, right?

Hito's still lacking affection in his life, and with some tips from Jess, he starts dating around to try and seek it. He never intends to stay long with any girl he goes out with - he's frightened of the idea of making a commitment, only to be abandoned after his partner inevitably saw the failure his parents always saw in him.

After a few years of trial and error and learning how to actually enjoy his short flings, Hito's thrown a curveball in the form of the awkward but earnest Aoi Sasaki. Aoi's struggling to find a foothold for herself after recently tearing herself away from her own controlling mother, and when Hito takes interest in her, it's like a dream come true for her. She's not aware Hito intends for this to be a temporary engagement, and starts believing they're going to be together the rest of their lives. Hito does enjoy her company and has a lot in common with her, and winds up staying together with her a lot longer than he normally would (to Jester's annoyance), but...

One day Aoi gifts Hito a locket. A token of her affection, a signifier of their relationship. It hits Hito all at once that Aoi thinks their relationship is serious, and if it lasts any longer, he's going to disappoint her and be rejected. He gets less affectionate with her as he struggles to find an out that'll let her down as gently as possible, which frightens Aoi and makes her more clingy. Eventually, he has to break up with her properly, and returns the locket to her. They're both devastated by the turn of events.

Jess is only glad that Hito finally managed to dump the dead weight, and when Hito's still miserable about the breakup days later, invites him to do something fun (read as: something that will endanger the both of them, as well as several bystanders) to get his mind off things. I haven't exactly ironed out what that is yet, but it lands the two in extremely hot water, and Hito's forced to return to his parents in disgrace.

The Hidakas are already kind of ticked off from not having heard from Nori in a while, so Hito showing up on their doorstep again is taken even less gracefully than it normally would be. Both their sons are out of control, and they attempt to mitigate their anxiety by forcing the whole brunt of their micromanaging parentage upon Hito in Nori's absence, including cutting him off from all his former contacts. Hito's not prepared for it in the slightest, and actively resists their attempts to whip him into shape - struggling to find a home and a job, sneaking out to indulge in the habits Jess instilled in him.

When Hito refuses to improve despite several years of his parents' efforts, they finally deem him a lost cause and throw him out to fend for himself. Hito's avoidance abruptly catches up to him when he realizes he doesn't know what he's doing on his own, so he seeks out the one connection he has left for help - his older brother.

Nori's been having a time of things himself. He's found a niche for himself, and even settled down with Emi Uchiyama, a woman with even higher aspirations in life than him. However, Nori has his misgivings about romance in general, and can't help but feel like Emi's draining him as he struggles to meet her needs in their relationship. He hasn't told his parents about her, or the child they've wound up with, Ayaka - he fears that if they knew, they'd pressure him even further into the relationship and it'd be truly inescapable.

When Hito shows up, Nori has his suspicions that their parents are desperate enough to send Hito to spy on him. He lies about the nature of his and Emi's relationship - he claims they're only cohabiting, and Emi is a single mother. Hito's got no reason to doubt him, and is just relieved to have somewhere to stay while he scrambles to get back on his feet.

To say that Emi's pissed would be an understatement. The only reason she doesn't call Nori on the lie is because she senses an opportunity to have her desires fulfilled - Nori has been neglecting her, and Hito is certainly stupid and eager enough to believe the lie she cooks up when she propositions him. He has a couple of misgivings about going behind Nori's back as Emi asks, but old habits die hard.

The ruse has to come to an abrupt, messy end when an accident occurs and Emi winds up carrying a second child, the future Ko. Nori's furious at both her and Hito for tricking him, and won't hear either of their excuses. This is the final straw for him after all the stress he's been under to perform perfectly, even though the situation was partly his fault for obscuring the truth in the first place. He winds up abandoning Emi, who turns down Hito when he asks if he can stay to try and make up for the mistake.

Once again, Hito's alone and confused, left reeling from the intensity of his ignorance and the gravity of his mistakes. He's been abandoned by his friend, his parents, his brother... can it get any worse than this?

It can. While he's struggling to cope with the wreck he's made out of his life, he winds up crossing paths with Aoi again, who's been unreachable for the past six years. She's got a bone to pick with him - apparently, Akane isn't the only woman Hito left with an unplanned child. She's been struggling to provide on her own, and demands he take responsibility for his actions.

This could be an opportunity to make up for at least some of the mistakes he's made, so Hito leaps at the chance he's been given, despite the glaring red flags of Aoi's physical and emotional health (or lack thereof). He's introduced to the sleepy but inquisitive Akiko, and with Aoi too drained to give them the time of day most of the time, they and Hito quickly form a bond.

Hito struggles to cope with Aoi's volatile state. She often snaps at him him, and completely ignores Akiko, regarding them as a parasite that Hito stuck her with. She's blindingly furious at the both of them for ruining her life when it was just beginning, and she intends to take every ounce of that fury out on Hito now that he's here. She ignores Hito's increasing concerns about Akiko's lethargy and illness, insisting that the medicine she gives them is all they need.

It takes two whole years for Hito to gather the courage to properly investigate - and what he finds out is distressing. Aoi's been keeping Akiko sleepy and complacent by drugging them with narcotic cold medicine since before Hito came into their life, and they're in serious danger if it continues. When Hito confronts Aoi in good faith, Aoi explodes on him for forcing her hand by not being there for her. Akiko comes to investigate the commotion, and in a fit of rage, Aoi tries to attack them. Hito pulls her off them and manages to contact the authorities, and when Aoi's arrested in the aftermath, he's left alone with a child he's uncertain how to raise.

Hito finally finds the motivation to pull himself together a little. He manages to get a cheap apartment for him and Akiko to live in, and finds a job as a mailman. He doesn't want to burden Akiko with the knowledge of all the failures he's suffered up until now, and he'd really just rather avoid acknowledging them altogether... so he keeps his mouth tightly shut regarding the subject of his past.

Akiko doesn't remember the incident - all they know is that Aoi's gone and Hito's here and everything is a lot different, and it scares them. They're only seven, and they've been half awake most of their life. Suddenly being snapped into a higher state of alertness is terrifying for them, and with Hito avoiding the topic of their mother, they decide he's to blame for things going awry.

The two grow apart as Akiko gets older, and complications arise. Despite Hito's earnest, honest attempts to care for them, they heavily distrust him, and refuse to tell him about their struggles in school and with their poorly developing motor skills and inability to stay awake. It's only when their body suddenly fails them one day that they're diagnosed with narcolepsy and cataplexy, but they have no idea what the true source of their condition is, and Hito won't tell them. They grow more frustrated and reclusive as their perpetual exhaustion and bouts of temporary paralysis make it even harder to connect with their peers.

They decide they can't trust Hito altogether when a teacher outs them to him as nonbinary, and he approaches them about it instead of letting them come to him. They don't tell him that they're skipping school, or growing a garden on the roof of their apartment complex, or that they're seeing ghosts after their near-death experience. They cling to the hazy memory of their mother, holding on tight to the locket she always used to wear, with no idea who it was initially meant for.

Hito is afraid for Akiko, but he's even more afraid of pushing them and causing them to do something drastic. He keeps his distance, and keeps a smile on his face to try and worry them as little as possible. He does his best to put food on the table for them and keep them medicated, and tries not to push his expectations onto them the way his parents did onto him. He's terrified of hurting them the way their mother did. But really, isn't this silence hurting them in its own unique way?

Akiko's almost old enough to leave home, and they don't intend to look back. Hito dreads the day they leave, but is relieved that they won't have to be weighed down by him anymore. They were his last chance to make something of himself, and he's long since accepted he threw that away.

If nothing changes, they'll both part ways without answers or closure.

#collab writes #collab ocs #gutg #abuse #abuse tw #drugging #drugging tw #hitoshi #hironori #jester #aoi #emi #ayaka #ko #akiko

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