#...maybe i should make one of those long bullet-point headcanon posts if i can remember how to do that and/or disentangle what's hc.

[oncillaphoenix]

wonder how long it's gonna be before i accidentally say something i made up about anthea and concordia as if it's canon.

[pencilofawesomeness]

htryds microshot: book nerds

October 7, X778

 It was starting to get colder, but secretly, Levy couldn’t wait for it to be colder. Then, nobody would complain if she curled up inside of her dorm-apartment and read all day long.

Not that there wasn’t stuff to do in the guild, of course, or with Jet and Droy. In fact, there had been a ton of new members this year, and some of them were even her age, which was nice, so Levy really should get to know them better.

The Strauss siblings were nice, even though the oldest one had quickly gotten…intense. Lisanna and Elfman were very kind though (and she was sure Mirajane was too, but she wasn’t the most approachable, so Levy wouldn’t know), and then there was the other group of… siblings? They seemed like siblings, with the way they stuck together, though Levy also knew that that wasn’t always indicative, but she, Jet, and Droy only knew other from the orphanage, but they were like brothers to her, and they stuck together like they were family, too.

Although the youngest boy and the older one did look similar. They both had black hair and red eyes, and red eyes weren’t something that was common. Not that the girl, Wendy, looked anything like them though. Wendy and Rogue she had the most contact with. They were delightful children—and quite young; it was amazing they could perform magic at their age—and very polite. She had been helping them with reading material ever since she found out they were still learning. And of course they were—they were only six or seven. The older one, Gajeel, was closer to her age, but he was more…stand-offish. And intimidating. She wasn’t sure if it was all of the piercings or the way he always glared and sulked in corners. What was it about the oldest of a group of three being the scariest? (Well, there was nothing scary about Jet, so that observation was limited to the two new groups of Fairy Tail.)

Enough about that, though. Levy had properly introduced herself, and that was what mattered. Not that that was recently, or anything. Meeting new people was still the difficult part of being in the guild, not that she regretted joining for one moment.

Levy knew the way to the bookstore by heart. She was positive she could navigate the building itself blind by now, though that wasn’t a large feat; it was pretty small. Although, she had still yet to read the store’s entire selection, so it was still plenty large enough—for the time being.

What was she in the mood to read this time? Hm, maybe fiction. Levy enacted her normal strategy of browsing until she had a suitable stack, wandering between the aisles and sections and stopping whenever she saw something interesting.

Or she stopped when she ran into somebody. Literally. Which wasn’t supposed to happen because there was never anybody in this section, but it happened this time and—

Levy blinked, wondering if she was imagining things. “Gajeel?”

The boy would have jumped out of his skin if he could. “What? Nothing, I wasn’t doing nothin’—!” It was his turn to blink. “Oh. You’re from the guild.”

“Yeah.”

They stared in a moment of silence. Levy wasn’t sure what else to say in a situation like this, especially since he was blocking the bookshelf she was wanting to look at.

Wait a second—there was a book in his hand. He was trying to hide it behind him, but she could recognize that cover anywhere. “Do you like the Detective Danger series too?” Levy blurted.

It was so hard to find other people to talk about it with, because it wasn’t exactly a popular series. It was simple, corny, and a little predicable—but it was charming and heartfelt, and it was enjoyable to read nonetheless, especially for relaxation. Not that Levy had a lot of people to talk about books period with, but the Detective Danger series was not something people followed beyond a stray book or two, so Levy never had anyone to discuss it with.

Gajeel’s face started to turn red. “Wh-what? No,” he denied quickly. Then he seemed to realize that he was holding the fourth book in the series. “I-I mean, it’s okay. Easy read in between training. And stuff.”

Levy resisted the urge to giggle to herself, but it was a hard thing to suppress. Ah, to see the denial up close. There was a time when Levy too would deny her enjoyment of the series (because honestly, it was designed for kids, and even though she was a kid, technically, she had long since moved past that reading level) but the series started to really get interesting around book nine, so she might as well see it through to the end.

“Okaaaay. How’d you like the ending of the ski-lodge case, then?” she asked, feeling devious. If there was anything to have a strong opinion about, it was—

“Are you kidding? It was awesome! The way he choked a guy with a hat, stopped a bullet, and caught that chick, all while skiing down the Deadly Hill? I— I mean… i-it was okay I guess.”

Her face split into a grin. “Busted,” she giggled, and Gajeel deflated like he had been caught doing something embarrassing.

Levy was just thrilled that she would have someone to discuss that twist in book nine with. “Have you read the Underwater Case yet?” she asked.

He looked down at the book in his hand awkwardly. “Ah, no… I haven’t read any since I was in Denish, and even then, there wasn’t really time.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there soon. I remember I read that one—” She pointed to the Volcano Case in his hands “—really fast. Oh, and when you get to the fifth book, I even got the special edition with the extra scene.”

“They make those?”

“Only a few! I got really lucky with that one. Would you…want to borrow it?”

For a second, Gajeel looked overwhelmed. Oh no, she had gone too fast again, hadn’t she? It had just been so long since she could talk about books with people, and even then, the librarian might not count…

“Yeah, that’d be cool. Er, thanks.”

But maybe she can add one more person to her list.

----

You can’t convince me that Mr. Long-coat-tie-and-fedora didn’t internalize cheesy detective fiction at least once in his life. (I headcanon that he did read some stuff post coming to the future to, ya know, learn that modern language stuff, so kid’s fiction is simple enough for that.) He might have been too stubborn to continue it in Phantom Lord, but Gajeel has time (and a fellow reader) now. Meanwhile Levy went through the classic introvert “I don’t know how to talk to people unless it’s about <special interest> and then I can talk a lot.”

Ah, the simple friendship of twelve and thirteen year-olds. 

[heraldofzaun]

This is my “Viktor has never been a stereotypical evil villain, you guys are just mean” post.

Hi. Well. That says it all, really, but I guess I should elaborate. I think that Viktor has always been a victim of society [cue Joker meme], it’s just that what society has shifted over the course of his lore update.

With new lore, it’s very clearly Piltover casting him out for his (in my opinion, pretty unethical from the get-go) ideas on free will/worker safety/etc. and that subsequently making him worse. But with his previous lore - what I run off of on this blog - I’ve seen a lot of commentary about how he’s always just been “evil”, or that his motivations weren’t defined, etc. And while I can agree that his old lore certainly has less of a word count (5x less, actually) and doesn’t make his motives crystal-clear, it’s just not true that his original incarnation was just a villainous scientist. (Nor is it true that he was perceived as one by his old fans!) It takes a little bit of looking at Blitzcrank’s lore, and the Journal of Justice (hey, remember that?) to see, but it’s there... So, here goes. I’m sorry for how long this ended up being (2k words!) - it ended up touching on a lot more than just Viktor.

Viktor’s always been stolen from. (Except for Blitzcrank’s newest lores, which contradict Viktor’s new lore, which... That’s a topic for another time.) It’s always been Professor Stanwick Pididly (now Professor Stanwick) who’s done the stealing - originally, he was a professor at Zaun’s “prestigious College of Techmaturgy”. In new lore, he’s a professor at an unnamed academy in Piltover. I think the best way to track the new/old changes is bullet-points, rather than writing this all out. Tumblr doesn’t allow T-charts, sadly.

Professor Pididly in old lore:

Zaunite professor.

Stole Blitzcrank (well, the accolades for developing Blitz’s sentience) from Viktor and Viktor’s doctoral team. (While this is headcanon, I’ve always assumed that Stanwick was Viktor’s (and Viktor’s team’s) doctoral advisor. I can’t quite imagine how else he’d pull off stealing a group project like that.) Viktor subsequently withdrew from the college and “barricaded himself in his private laboratory”. (Which is his house in my personal take, because really - what sort of doctoral student can afford a lab?)

Blitzcrank’s case reached Zaun’s legal system, resulting in a “legal maelstrom” (Blitz’s original lore) that ended with Stanwick presumably being legally declared Blitzcrank’s creator.

Blitzcrank’s lore states that “most now know the truth” in regards to who his creator is. This is important for later, so stick that in your back pocket.

Pididly is referred to as “Professor Pididly” in JoJ issues 3, 18, and 23, which are given the dates of August of 20CLE, March of 21 CLE, and June of 21 CLE.

Side note: According to Orianna’s judgment, which is dated May of 21 CLE - stay with me here, it’ll make sense - Blitzcrank entered the League “years before”. As League at this time was mostly running in time with the real world, this makes sense - Blitzcrank was a 2009 champion and Orianna was released in 2011. Judgments seem to be dated to a few days before a champion’s release, in order to tie with the lore - one had to be “Judged” before made a champion... but I’m rambling. Anyways, years before, back pocket.

Is referred to as “Chairman Pididly” in JoJ issue 27, dated August of 21 CLE. “Chairman” seems to be a title given to those in political power in Zaun. Another example is Chairman Magnus Dunderson, Zaun’s “Chief Executive” (issue 5). (I could’ve sworn that there is canonically a “Board of Executives” in old lore Zaun, but scrubbing through the JoJ on the wiki hasn’t turned it up - just Blitzcrank’s lore mentioning the “Council of Zaun”. Maybe it was fanon? Anyways.) Back pocket!

Also stole some work from Viktor in order to revive Urgot. Urgot’s revival was reported on in issue 3 of the JoJ, and the confirmation that it was from Viktor’s work is in Viktor’s original lore.

Professor Stanwick (Pididly? I feel like they ditched his last name because it was “too silly”, also because Stanwick sounds British-adjacent anyways and that’s Piltover’s “thing” - but anyways) in new lore:

Piltovian professor.

Stole Blitzcrank from Viktor alone, who made the robot to help clean up a specific chemical spill. Viktor went to Zaun for a few weeks and came back to find that Stanwick had “held a symposium on Blitzcrank and presented Viktor's research as his own”. Viktor subsequently continued on his studies, culminating with him later being expelled for “violating basic human dignity”. Viktor returns to a laboratory that he had in Zaun.

Blitzcrank’s case is solely a university matter. Viktor petitions Jayce to help support his claim, but Jayce is Jayce and doesn’t help out. The “matter [is] decided in Professor Stanwick’s favor”.

Blitzcrank’s lore doesn’t really say anything about if people know that Viktor made him (them, technically, but Riot doesn’t get to make the robot non-binary), but I guess it’s implied in the 3rd iteration? (That would be the first new one, after the IoW retcon making most champions’ 2nd lores being the same lore with any reference to the titular League of Legends removed.) He works with Viktor in that one. It doesn’t fit with Viktor’s updated lore at all, actually, because it mentions Stanwick absolutely zero times. (A post for another day...)

Has nothing to do with Urgot, since Urgot’s different now.

So, the general plot of “professor rips off a student” is there, it’s just got an added layer of “professor rips off a foreign/out-group student” in new lore to tie into the overarching idea of Piltover exploiting Zaun. (Is Zaun considered foreign? Yes? No? It’s sort of textually implied sometimes to be another city, but can it actually be when it’s physically underneath Piltover? Is the metaphor in new lore a class thing, then? Is it both? Am I supposed to take Viktor’s Russian accent into account when reading this text? I don’t know.) Anyways, so far so... same, in the broad strokes. Unless Viktor’s villainy in old lore is specifically because someone from his city ripped him off, I don’t know how you can compare new/old lore and say that old painted him as a villain.

But what about the everything else I put there? We’re getting there - that’s part of Viktor’s in-universe stuff. I’m taking a quick detour out of universe, to Jayce’s very first lore...

Which had Viktor stealing a techmaturgical device from Jayce. While I can’t cite this, sadly - thank you, Riot deleting the old forums and me not having the patience to look through archives at the moment - there was a backlash around this on the forums. Why would Viktor, a character who’d been stolen from, steal in turn? So Jayce’s second lore, the one that most people were familiar with before the new lore update, was made. Now Viktor stole a crystal after trying to partner with Jayce, Jayce was less well-established as an inventor, he had a bit more character... All good things. (Also, this is probably where the new lore direction of them being former college colleagues come from.)

Also, as an aside: this is the first use I can see of crystals specifically being described as arcane power sources... The only other discussion of magical crystals was the Brackern... which was then merged into magical crystals having to be from the Brackern... Which means that...

But anyways! Clearly Viktor fans didn’t see him as a villain in 2012, or at least not one that would victimize others in the same way that he’d been hurt. They made such a fuss about it that Jayce’s lore was changed to paint Viktor more sympathetically! (When’s the last time that there’s been that much backl- oh. It’s Seraphine again. Anyways.) So, again, Viktor’s perception as an evil scientist mostly seems to have come from people who weren’t really familiar with his lore. So... case closed?

Except that I also want to talk about in-universe things! Everything that I told you to put in your back pocket! Because this post is already over a thousand words and I have thrown myself firmly into this vortex.

Viktor’s victimization by society [Joker meme] is actually probably worse in old lore, which is a fact that I think has been pretty overlooked. While new lore Viktor gets kicked back down to Zaun and gets his work stolen in academia - with Stanwick presumably never being questioned on whether or not he made Blitzcrank, because there’s that whole “Zaunites are bad” thread that is both in and out of universe... Old lore Viktor sure does get it worse, although I admit that this requires some interpretation of canon. His thing with Blitzcrank was, again, a “legal maelstrom” - and with Blitzcrank being considered a Zaunite celebrity before this court case, it seems relatively easy/logical to infer that this maelstrom was a very public case.

So all of Zaun gets to see Viktor crash and burn in court. I’d say that’s a bit worse than just academia seeing it, as is the case in new lore.

And then there’s Blitzcrank’s lore flat-out saying that “most now know the truth” about who made him. (While this lore does predate Viktor’s existence - isn’t it odd to think about a Blitzcrank made by a faceless team of generic doctoral students, rather than Viktor... and a faceless team of generic doctoral students? - I see no reason not to take it as canonical for Viktor’s original lore. There’d been minor lore touchups before, so if Riot wanted Viktor’s creation of Blitzcrank to be an unknown... they could have edited Blitzcrank’s lore.) But Viktor’s still on the fringes, and nothing in his lore (which, again, was written years after Blitzcrank’s) seems to acknowledge that by the time he enters the League we have confirmation, date-wise, that it’s been years since the truth came out. (Orianna Judgment, etc.) That’s to say: people knowing that Viktor made Blitzcrank does nothing for him - he gets no apologies or anything like that.

Of course, if you take League lore as happening concurrently and nix the Judgments and the League, I guess that this is tenuous - but working within the framework of when he was released, it seems clear to me that the implication of all this lore is (whether it was intended by Riot to be read this way or not) that no one in Zaun cares that Viktor was stolen from. It’s an open secret. No one’s seeking justice for him. But it gets worse...!

So, it’s generally known that Stanwick didn’t make Blitzcrank by the time that the JoJ is running. And he’s just a professor for most of the run of that part of the lore, until... Issue 27. In which he becomes Chairman Pididly, someone who is now implied to have political power. (I have to assume he gets the position due to the political goodwill from Noxus that his revival of Urgot must have brought Zaun, but that’s just interpretation.) But! Even though most people know that Stanwick didn’t make Blitzcrank - that he stole Blitzcrank - he ends up not losing his university job (he’s still Professor Pididly for most of the JoJ, after all) but... gaining political office!

All of this is to say that Zaun is so crooked that you can have the fact that you stole from someone and ruined their life revealed... and get a promotion to government! You can shatter an idealistic man who had a “hope to better society” and make him into someone like the Machine Herald and face absolutely zero repercussions. I think that that is significantly worse than how new lore Viktor’s victimization by Piltover consisted of an academia-only dispute that left him with just some bitterness... New Viktor was, after all, kicked out of Piltovian academia for ethics violations, not for Blitzcrank.

Everything surrounding old lore Viktor is a bit harder to piece together, since you have to look through a few lores and make a few inferences, which is why I think that people don’t realize exactly how bad he had it... (That and time erasing memories, or people being new to the fandom, or people not being interested in Viktor, or...) But he had it bad, and I’m honestly disappointed that we never got to explore much of Zaun’s particular brand of corporate corruption in canon. Now they’re the perpetual underdogs, both victims and villians, and Riot isn’t quite sure how to write them beyond constant exploitation from Piltover. (Even the chem-barons have taken somewhat of a backseat lately in new lore, from what I’ve seen - Piltover seems to be the primary cause of Zaun’s ills, because the combined region is now an upper city/lower city metaphor about class. The chem-barons just seem to be written as a result of Piltover’s ignoring of Zaun - because Zaun seems to be more of an undercity than a sovereign city or state, but that varies depending on whatever piece of lore you’re reading and... Another post, another time.)

So. TL;DR: Viktor’s always been a character who was victimized by a city, be it Zaun or Piltover. Viktor’s always been a character more complex than just a maniacal villain, although it takes more work to see that in his old lore as compared to his new. (His new pretty much screams “we are trying to make him and Jayce morally grey”, after all.) This victimization is arguably worse in old lore, as it’s implied that he went through a very public legal case that ended with Stanwick taking credit for Blitzcrank. In addition to that, Stanwick’s subsequent shift to politics implies that Zaun is so corrupt that most everyone knowing that he’s a thief isn’t an issue at all. He’s untouchable.

Viktor’s always been the result of an idealistic man being crushed by a society that doesn’t care for him and his dreams. That’s nothing new.

[arkannis]

Hello,

I just recently got into the Old Republic Fandom, and the Eternal Empire is my favorite arc. I do wish there was more story content to give more development to the characters, particularly in Arcann's case. While I love his romance scenes, I wish there were more scenes about his redemption and relationship with the Outlander or a dark side ending where the Outlander or Arcann takes the throne with the other as a consort. I found your blog while trying to find content further developing his character. Thank you so much for posting all your headcanons and musings!

With that being said, what are your headcanons for Zakuul culture? And could you post a masterpost compilation of your Arcann headcanons? I am trying to find the post where the romance novels headcanon originated in the tags and not having much luck.

Hope you have a nice day!

Hi anon!! Sorry for a late reply. First I’ll answer the second part of your message. The romance holonovels headcanon originated from the this post ; the post doesn’t outright say it, but some people in the tags (when they reblogged it) mentioned that Arcann probably seemed like the type to read romance in his free time. As of what I can remember the tags were from this reblog and this other reblog and both say that Arcann reads romance holonovels. The continuation of this headcanon were in replies or tags, so it’s hard to track them all down! Secondly, my Arcann tag is a mess, and I probably threw in multiple headcanons in reblogs or tags so it would be hard to find them all... I’ll think about making a masterpost, but I don’t think I have time for something like that right now. Ok, now that’s over with... I 100% agree with you, anon! I HAVE so many things to say about the possibility about that dark side ending. I don’t think devs were planning to make Arcann a possible romance option in the beginning, so it wouldn’t have been possible to be his LI and rule as emperor/empress. I also agree with the development of the characters... however, Arcann’s redemption and relationship with the Outlander was definitely rushed, because the plans to make a third expansion was apparently cancelled due to the backlash from fans who wanted pub vs. imp back. I made a whole post complaining about that... Otherwise, I definitely think they would have had more time to flesh out his characters and the other Zakuulan characters as well (Vaylin, Senya, Koth, etc.). I’m like pretty much sure content was cut out from KOTFE/KOTET to make them shorter. Due to such lost content, I have to create my headcanons from extrapolation based on the Sacrifice trailer, available codex entries, existing dialogue, and implications of existing issues. As well as other people’s hcs and commentary!! WARNING: SUPER LONG BULLET POINTS for Zakuulan culture headcanons.

The reason why I don’t have that many Zakuulan culture headcanons is because.... I feel like it’s so weirdly explored in the expansions.

I think the arts is a big thing in Zakuul! The Dragon’s Maw chapter gave me that kind of vibe. I also discussed this mildly (not) with Arcann. Most specifically THEATRE, PERFORMANCE AND SINGING. 

Evidence: Senya sings and composes and there’s the famous Zakuulan holoperformer, Malita Tal. No, I don’t have evidence for theatre, but honestly? Zakuulans are so goddamn dramatic, they most definitely have reality TV series or drama series... 

arcann be like oh you listen to malita tal? name all of her albums in alphabetical order or you get exiled

Zakuulan culture most definitely has idol culture, based on Malita Tal (and reportedly her performances were watched by millions). And those fans apparently also protested against Arcann’s rule. personally i think if they had twitter the u.s. gov*rnment would be wiped out.

I just think singing is a big thing in Zakuulan culture. I mean, even Valkorion sings (if you decide to kill Senya, his force ghost appears. They both have an exchange and it’s actually sweet for like 0.1 second). 

I also think there would be typical Zakuulan fairytales embedded in the culture. Hear me out. Most specifically those type of royal fairytales with the princes and princesses. This can be heavily contributed to the fact that a royal family is essentially in power. 

You cannot expect me to believe not a single person in Zakuul has written a Prince Arcann x reader holofic. You just can’t. Or Prince Thexan. Actually, I think Thexan would be more common, I think he was perceived to be more compassionate and kind compared to Arcann by the common folk? Since I know there’s that NPC dialogue where one of them goes how different it would be if Thexan took the throne instead. 

The fairytales would probably involve a lot of references to the Old Gods. I kinda imagine that the enemy would be some sort of serpent, that is, Zildrog, because apparently he’s just a bedtime story to scare children away. 

I think these Zakuulan fairy tales would contribute to the theatre and performance, acting culture that Zakuul has. 

Furthermore, I just think the Tirall kids probably read these fairytales as well. francis dont talk about arcann reading again

I want to talk about the Old Gods and that religion, which is one of my favorite things ever... probably because the Gods are machines. Superweapon machines... ok ill shut up

Even if Valkorion basically got rid of the religion, it’s clear that the religion is still incorporated into heavy talk in Zakuulan culture (e.g. eyes of Esne, heart of Scyva). 

My headcanon is that there are sanctuaries or small secret churches (?) for those who want to worship the Old Gods. Obviously the Herald of Zildrogs who believe in the Old Way are a cult, so I think people would look for an alternative. 

I think there would be great effort to hide these places, as it can get you exiled. Thus these would probably be located in the Old World, rather than in a more obvious position like the Spire. 

The beliefs of the Old Ways isn’t exactly clear, they aren’t exactly touched upon, which is a shame. I think people would ask for help from each of these gods depending on what they want.

Those who ask for Izax’ guidance want to seek success, accomplishments, power, and glory.

Those who ask for Scyva’s guidance ask for her to guide souls peacefully to death (she is described as someone who weeps beside Zakuulans as they march towards Izax - basically death) , or ask for help/compassion from her. Maybe maternity as well? Or parental love?

Those who ask for Aivela (goddess of passion) want her to guide them with her passion (Aivela accompanies Tyth, who is kind of a god of war/warrior). I think there would also be romance related stuff as well. If someone asked for help regarding their love related issues, it would probably be from Aivela!

I’m not sure about Esne - but maybe in a similar sense, if someone is suffering with jealousy - in any situation, they would ask guidance from her. I don’t know where I read this but I think the “eyes of Esne” expression meant like having eyes of jealousy.

Nahut? I don’t think he was worshipped.  “Nahut was considered to be gray, formless and cold, and was denied worship by all except his mother Scyva.” But regardless, I think he still had a role to play. 

After the Outlander takes the throne, and Zakuul renounces their membership from the Eternal Alliance, I think people would be allowed to openly express their religious beliefs, that is, the Old Ways. Oh, personally I headcanon that they would build beautiful places of worship in the Spire with similar geometrical pyramid designs...!! 

Yeah...I think that’s all I got! I’ll need to see how I can somehow make this post easily found, lol. This is quite a long list, and I have to emphasize that these are my headcanons! They are based on what I see and I just kind of fill in the gaps to fit my own stories. This took a while to write because I KNEW I had these headcanons, but they just didn’t appear at the time I saw this anon ask. Anyways, I’ll probably create more headcanons in the future. Also:

a dark side ending where the Outlander or Arcann takes the throne with the other as a consort

I have so many things to say about this. I know the game won’t permit it, because if you think about it, both the light side choice (Eternal Alliance) and the dark side choice (Eternal Empire) are happy endings for your characters anyways. They can continue as the “hero” or the “protagonist”, so I don’t think this route could ever be implemented. However, I think it would be absolutely interesting if throughout the gameplay, players are given a choice to flirt with Arcann. The Outlander and Arcann agree to get rid of Valkorion, but thats if the Outlander decides to betray the Alliance and joins Arcann instead. And should they join him, they have the choice to romance him... and I guess it’s a happy ending for you both :P Obviously this won’t happen, but maybe it will. I wouldn’t mind being the prince consort of Arcann lol idk! me and vaylin are gonna be besties and we’ll paint each others nails or something Oh and have a nice day too anon...!!

[themadauthorshatter]

TOPPAT!CHARLES PART 6

HEY! HEY, YOU!

Don't scroll past this!

Why, you ask?

Simple.

TIME FOR TOPPAT!CHARLES PART 6!!!!!

Sorry if I scared you there, I'm just über excited for this one, I sincerely am, you have no idea!!! 

If you haven’t read the previous parts, you can find them RIGHT HERE: 

Part 1: 

Part 2: 

Part 3: 

Part 4: 

Part 5:

Previously on Toppat!Charles: Our pilot friend learned the hard way it's not a good idea to say 'no' to the Right Hand Man, and has accepted his offer. Meanwhile, Henry has been having nightmares of his different end selves disagreeing with his decision and chastising him for letting Charles get taken by Right.

HEADCANON/THEORY FOLLOWING OF THE CHAPTER: Watch this theory by Two Left Thumbs, and you'll know instantly. A hint, though, Ellie is dealing with this in her own way; she and Henry ARE connected in more ways than one😉: https://youtu.be/LjOCfKOqkic

Got that? FANTASTIC!!

LET'S DIVE RIGHT BACK IN!!!!

Henry walks down a hallway and toward a break room for breakfast; he, Ellie, and Charles do have an apartment, but the general wants them to stay until Charles is back home safely. 

It has been at least a few weeks since part 5, and that time, in addition to the nightmares, has taken its toll. Henry’s hair is messy, his clothes are wrinkled, and bags have formed under his eyes. 

As he reaches the doorway, someone is there to greet him. 

“Morning, Mr. Stickmin.” 

Bill Bullet sits at one of the tables, having just finished his own breakfast and is now fidgeting with his empty coffee cup. 

Henry takes a seat across from him and rests his head on his hand. 

“You doing alright? You look like Hell in a hand basket.” 

'Hard time sleeping,' Henry signs as he yawns.

"Well, don't go sleeping on me. We're moving today."

Henry looks up at him, now awake and alert.

"Some of my men saw movement from the orbital station on oir satellite. They might be paying Earth a visit."

Henry pulls a newspaper ad out of his pocket and uncrinkles it and shows it to Bullet, tapping on it.

It's an add for a museum exhibit in a neighboring city close to the one Henry robbed in StD, said exhibit being a sapphire, like a large sapphire, like the size of the diamond, ruby, and emerald. It's tempting for Henry to not steal the sapphire and slip back into old habits.

This is an excellent target for the clan.

'The Right Hand Man should be, too.'

Bullet smirks and nods. "I've got a team ready for you. We'll leave on your call."

TIME JUMP TO THE MUSEUM!!!!!

Henry and his team and Ellie enter the museum with little to no problem; Henry brought Ellie for emotional support and so he could show her the sapphire. (A small gift to her for everything she's done as his friend)

They have some close calls like Ellie almost getting seen by a guard, one of the CCC men almost shoots another guard "just in case," and another guard almost falls on yet another guard.

After that, they get to the sapphire exhibit and take out the guards in a way that doesn't get them (the guards) killed. After that, they all sit down and play the waiting game.

The CCC men do a sweep of the area and ready themselves at different parts of the exhibit, hiding in spots and ready to strike. Ellie and Henry take a seat near the sapphire itself, admiring it before focusing back on the mission.

Henry lets his mind wander, thinking about how once they save Charles, Henry will take his place in the CCC. It's the kind of thought that gives them a sick feeling, but all he can think is 'As long as Charles is safe, it'll be worth it.'

He remembers Terrence's words about how life is for living and bites his tongue.

I've seen families live together just fine with no riches, no crime, and no Toppat Clan. We really meant that little to you?

He gets a tap on his shoulder and looks over to see Ellie holding out a cup of coffee to him, a thermos, maybe two, next to her.

"I thought you could use some, since we're gonna be here for a while."

Henry shakes his head and tries to push it away. 'No thanks. I don't really like coffee. Gives me a headache.'

Ellie gives him a withering look. "When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

When Henry doesn't answer, Ellie smirks and holds out the coffee once more. "Yeah, thought so."

Henry rolls his eyes and takes the cup, signing with his free hand, 'Fine. When did you become my mother?'

"When you became a child," Ellie barks as she lightly bonks Henry on the head. "And when you came back from visiting your father." She leans back and puts the back of her free hand against her eyes, looking as dramatic as possible. "What they say is true: A boy really needs the love of a mother."

Henry scoffs and shakes his head with a smile before writing on her palm again with his finger. 'I already have a mother.'

Ellie sits straight, now intrigued. "You don't talk about them a lot. Your parents, I mean."

Henry raises an eyebrow and points to her as he nods, gesturing either, 'You don't, either' or 'Neither do you.' Same message, different phrasing.

It's Ellie's turn to shake her head. "They're not people I want to talk about. I doubt my dad would let me visit him, even in a situation like this."

Henry pauses from drinking his coffee.

"Your dad said life is for living. I can't say he's wrong for saying that." She turns her head to Henry, looking him in the eye even those he's staring off into outer space/zoning out. "It's just hard to live life when..." She looks away again, lowers her voice, just so the CCC men don't hear her, and clenches her fists on her knees. "When you can't stop living."

Henry nods as he goes for another sip of coffee.

Then he stops.

'It's hard to live life when you can't stop living.'

Those words make Henry slowly lower his cup and turn to Ellie, looking at her both incredulously and with fear.

"What?" He asks under his breath.

Before Ellie can answer, something is thrown into the exhibit and EXPLODES, filling the room with smoke and no one really getting too injured.

The CCC men fall one by one from being grabbed from behind and put into a sleeper hold, and the toaats responsible run over, mostly undetected because of the smoke.

Henry is seemingly tackled down by Ellie as the two hear glass breaking above them.

The sapphire's case is open.

Henry sees a toppat get close and shoots him in the shoulder, not enough to kill him but enough to get him running away.

"Good shot!" Ellie yells between coughs because the alarms been set off.

Henry points to his gun, then to his hand as he shakes his head with a "Mh-mm." 'I was aiming for his hand.'

The two go toe to toe with a pair of toppats like in the very beginning of this series, but something's different. When Henry kicks his opponent away, the toppat scurries away from the two. And Ellie's just runs when she's just started fighting.

"What's going on?"

Henry shrugs and then looks over at the sapphire.

You know that face and stance he does in Toppat King when the rocket takes off without him? Weeeeellll...

Henry's face drops completely as he holds the sides of his face, gasping loudly.

Ellie is equally flabbergasted, and a little annoyed at how well this plan actually worked in the toppat's favor.

A little too well, I'd say.

"What do we-"

Henry runs after the toppat Ellie was fighting before she can finish asking him.

The three race through multiple exhibits, the toppat throwing down trash bins and benches in order to slow them down.

Henry, however, has the power of friendship and adrenaline and keeps up with him evry step of the way.

"Stop!" He yells. "Where is he!?"

The toppat fumbles, but still continues running. Ellie picks up her pave unitl she's in front of Henry.

"Where's Charles!?"

The chase takes the two of them outside, Henry falls behind, where the toppat makes a sharp turn to the wall.

Ellie sees this a second too late as she is hit in the nose with a cybernetic hand, knocking her down, but not knocking her out, even when a cybernetic foot is put on her freshly healed rib.

"'Ello. It's been a while, 'asn't it?"

Ellie glares up at Right and tries to move his foot.

"Last time I saw you, you had to get carried in a stretcher."

"And you took our friend," Ellie sneers.

Right rolls his eyes; these kids do not play around, which he admires, but it does get annoying when he's in a playing mood.

"Charles. Our friend. What did you do with him?"

Right smirks and looks over his shoulder. "Looks like this one missed you, after all. You'll fit in perfect with the two of them now." Right moves his foot and approaches whoever he's talking to, and Ellie takes this opportunity to try to get the jump on him.

The toppat sees this INSTANTLY.

🤨... I don't know anout you guys, but I feel like I'm forgetting something here.🤔🤔

OH, YEAH!!!

Henry runs out just in time to see this toppat shoot Ellie in the hip.

If this was a movie, we would hear nothing, no music, no talking, just the sound of the gun firing and echoing as the bullet either gets lodged in Ellie's hip or goes THROUGH her hip, close to the joint of her leg. We would get a shot of Ellie's face, eyes wide, brows furrowed and widely arced, like those despair looking anime faces, and lips slightly parted as shock sets in. We would also get three more shots, one from her perspective as she sees the toppat lower his gun,one behind Ellie as she falls back, and the third being on the ground and slightly in front of her as Henry freezes where he is and watches her fall.

BUT HE DOESN'T STAY THIS WAY.

"You BASTARD!" Henry screams as he charges toward Right, who steps back and throws him into the toppat.

The sight of him not only snaps Henry out of his rage, it completely throughs him into a despaired shock.

He's lost a lot of weight in his captivity, and Henry can feel it through his suit and see it in his cheeks, jaw, neck, and eyes, which are blood shot, empty and glassy. His hair's grown longer to where it is past his shoulders and kept in a low ponytail, the rest held back by gel and his own top hat so it stays out of his face. He's gotten pale from his time in space and not being exposed to sunlight and vitamin D.

For a second, neither recognize each other, but Henry is the first to as his chest goes hollow.

"Charles!" He quickly embraces his friend, who is still quiet and nit exactly reacting, but the gears start turning in his head as he realizes who's talking to and hugging him.

Right watches ans his smirk widens as Henry let Charles go and turns to him, tears pouring down his cheeks and now angry as hell.

"What did you do to him!?"

Right looks back at Charles, prompting Henry to do the same.

"Henry?"

A smile grows on Henry's face as he helps his friend up.

"Charles, I'm so sorry! I should've-"

BANG!

Henry falls backward, but doesn't die. Instead, the ground melts away beneath him and he gasps as the bullet wound heals on his forehead. You know that feeling you get when you're falling asleep and feel like your mattress is floating on the ocean waves? Henry feels that until he's back looking up at Right.

This time, he looks at Charles to see Charles is literally about to shoot him, but he hits and throws it away before Charles flips him over and smashes his fist into Henry's face repeatedly until Henry throws him off and stands back up, Charles standing as well and glaring at him, absolutely livid.

"Why'd you do it?" Charles growls. "Why didn't you help me when I needed you!?"

The hollow feeling in Henry's chest worsens as Charles stares him down. Part is him is more than willing to break down into tears, but all the time watching the tapes Right showed him in Part 5 have made his body producing tears next to impossible.

Right only stands back and watches because, as you probably put together, THIS is plan. Not only to take a friend, Charles, away from Henry, but to have said friend destroy him.

"I'm sor-"

Before Henry can finish, Charles punches him again.

"TELL ME!" His voice is a little broken, but he keeps yelling out of frustration and sheer anger because, yes, while Henry sent the destroyers and the government to help Charles, he didn't stop Right in the jungle during the mission. "WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP THEM!? WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP ME!? YOU JUST STOOD THERE AND LET ME GET TAKEN AWAY!"

Henry doesn't have the fight in him to stop Charles from yelling at him or punching him. He doesn't even have it in him to look Charles in the eye.

And that bothers Charles immensely.

"Why won't you say anything?" Charles asks. "No matter what, you've always stayed quiet."

When Henry still remains silent, Charles swings a punch into his face hard enough to make Henry fall down.

"SAY SOMETHING!"

Henry holds up his hands, revealing how much he's been crying and how hard Charles has been hitting him; Henry's nose is broken, one of his eyes his swollen shut, his lips are split, and a tooth is loose.

Physically unable to speak, Henry signs to Charles instead, 'I'm sorry.'

Charels quickly kneels down and snatches Henry's hand.

"I want to hear you say it."

Henry tries forcing those words out, but his throat tightens up and leaves him unable to speak. He tries again and his crying becomes worse as he shakes his head.

"SAY IT!" Charles screams.

Henry breaks down as he shakes his head again, signing and gesturing as much as he can.

Charles rises to his feet, his eyes going glassy and his face expressionless. "I figured as much." He kicks Henry in the mouth and turns to Right. "We're done here. Send a message back to the station. We got the sapphire."

Right nods as his smirk becomes a smile. "Yes, sir."

Henry stands up on shaky legs and stiltedly walks towards his friend.

"Ch-Charles."

Charles shuts his eyes and heaves a breath through his nose, his top hat in his hands.

"Charles, w-wait-"

Charles wheels around as he watches Henry stumble toward him.

"I... I-"

"Don't bother."

Charles holds the hand gun Henry made him drop and aims it at Henry.

"I've heard enough."

When Charles shoots, Henry does not feel the bullet when it is lodged into his waist.

Henry is standing long enough to see Right, Charles, and any remaining toppats be beamed up to the orbital station with the sapphire.

The glare from Charles stays in Henry's mind as he falls, eyes locked on the night sky as Charles's words replay over and over in his mind.

Ellie groans as she crawls over to Henry and falls on her good side, where Charles didn't shoot her.

"We tried," she says as she breathes shakily and hold his shoulder, more his shirt, but I digress. "We tried."

The CCC guards do eventually wake up and get Ellie and Henry back to the government base. Both get immediate medical attention, which leads to Henry getting surgery to get the bullet out and seeing Ellie suddenly begin to panic and shout repeatedly, "I can't feel my leg!"

TIME JUMP TO AFTER HIS SURGERY!

Henry wakes up in his own room and finds that Galeforce is sitting in a chair, hunched forward, fists shaking, and his hat off.

"General?"

Galeforce puts his hat back on and sits straight. His eyes are red rimmed and have bags underneath them now. "Morning, Henry. How're you feeling?"

Henry holds his hand out and sort of tilts it on a way to say, 'Fine.'

Galeforce forces a smile and sighs.

"Ellie's still in the infirmary. That shot form-" He gulps and coughs a little bit. "-From the toppat... did a number on her leg. She won't be on the field for a long time."

Henry sits up, even when his body aches, and picks up a pen and notepad on his bedside table.

'They got the sapphire.'

Galeforce nods. "I know."

Henry shakes as he writes on the notepad again before dropping both and resting his forehead on his knees while loosely hugging his knees. Galeforce hangs his head and lets Henry cry; he doesn't really have much to say anyway.

'Charles,' the notepad reads.

HOLY SHIT DID THIS ONE TAKE FOREVER!!!!!

But that is a really good thing��!

I hope you all enjoyed this one because I certainly did!!

I'm probably going to take a break from this for a little bit because of how much of an emotional roller coaster this is, and so I don't get burn out. I will come back to this because I love this series, I guess you can say I'm letting my cake cool down before adding the frosting or letting the pot sit so it make good caramel or fudge.

Thank you, thank you, thank you all so much for following this series. I appreciate each and every one of you so much!

I hope you all stay safe this season, thank you again for reading and following, and HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!!

[angsty-nerd]

Nonny Questions

Okay, so a Nonny (or multiple Nonnies) sent me a whole bunch of ideas for questions for Carina that I never got to ask... however, I do have MY answers for them, so... here you go Nonny(ies)!!

1. Can you ask her for me "You said that Nathan got hired because of his chemistry with Jeanine. Were there other actors that auditioned for Max considered before Nathan came in? And did you stop looking once Nathan read with Jeanine?

So this is actually something that Carina’s talked about quite a bit. Nathan and Carina were friends before RNM - they worked together on the Originals for a number of years. When it was time for casting RNM, Nathan was one of Carina’s first calls. She always knew she wanted him on the show, but he was supposed to play Michael and not Max. Then Vlamis came in for an audition and blew them away and at the same time they were having trouble finding the right Max. So Carina decided to ask Nathan if he’d be willing to do a chemistry read with Jeanine (who had already been cast), because she didn’t doubt that he was capable of playing Max...she just wanted to check the chemistry, and obviously it was magic. Jeanine told a little story about that read on Lance Bass’s podcast this past week. Something about how they both do the same awkward tap dancing move...

2. Can you ask her how Liz knew she could show Max her feelings and what memories did she show Max since that's how he used the handprint to show memories of her?

If you remember back in 1x02, she told Max, “When you showed me your memories, I didn’t just see them, I felt them.” Also, the connection through the handprint made her feel Max’s echoes, and she experienced it again with Noah in 1x12-13 (in a really not-awesome way). And in 1x13, Noah told HER that he could feel her through the connection. He comments on the guilt she feels. So that was really Liz learning that Max could feel her just like she felt him through the connection. I don’t know that there were specific memories associated with it. She wanted him to feel her feelings, not see specific memories. It’s not like she got memory flashes from Noah. Just feelings.

3. An idea for a question. When Max and Isobel were on their way to find Noah and Liz was on the phone with Max, was she going to say I love you? Because her mouth moved with no words and when the camera went back to Max she said "stay safe".

I think that’s pretty clearly suggested. Throughout the entire episode Liz is fighting her guilt for loving Max. She’s very firm with Maria earlier in the episode that “you can’t help who you fall in love with”, which implies that she’s pretty much there already at that point. Noah comments on her guilt. But Liz feels like she needs to come clean to Rosa first, before she tells Max. Which is what stops her from saying it on the phone (plus, lets be real...we don’t want a first I love you to be over the phone. That would be so lame!). Which is why she goes to visit Rosa’s grave after leaving Max in bed. She’s trying to get a clean slate for herself so that she can say it to him. But instead she’s left haunted by her decision NOT to say it for months. *excuse me while I go cry in a corner*

4. Oh oh you should ask her if Liz is the light to Max's darkness! Unless you think it's too spoilery.

Yes. Yes she is.

5. Can you ask her if there was an intention in having all Liz Ortecho items in Max's mindscape when Isobel and Rosa tried to talk to him?

I think it was clearly intentional. I don’t think we’ll get much elaboration on that from them, although admittedly, now that the whole amnesia/dark!Max plot seems to be done (which, honestly...should have taken longer to resolve), maybe they’d speak about it now. I’ll tell you what MY headcanon is on it, and I dunno, maybe we can call it canon too based on what Isobel said at the beginning of 2x06. I think that Max was being overwhelmed by all the dark energy, and his memories and associations with Liz were the only way he could fight it. But his body was dead — only his mind was active. So after “pulling his plug”, his brain slowly started dying, and as it was dying, slowly the darkness began to take over. His memories of Liz were dying along with his mind. Slowly disappearing. If you watch those scenes closely, things are constantly disappearing until the very end, when he’s dying on the operating table, and Isobel goes in and nothing is left except the Jeep and Bright Eyes playing...and then Bright Eyes fades away - like it was his last memory of her fading away. And then what do you know, he wakes up and he remembers everything about his life except for Liz — the thing he was hanging onto until the end as he died. Another point to sell this - Carina mentioned in an interview that she fought hard to use Bright Eyes in that scene — that it was an important detail to her.

6. Possible question, "Did Max absorb Rosa's ten year of darkness or just 10 years of a general dark energy? Cuz as Rosa was in the pod she was in stasis so it's not like her body was decaying for 10 years, but a couple hours or a day or two.

Max absorbed ten years of dark/death energy by bringing Rosa back to life. I don’t think it has anything to do with decay. I think it has to do with death and the amount of time that she was dead. Like, dark/death energy was just building for all of that time. And I don’t think it’s intended to be specific to Rosa. Like, if he went to resurrect Kate or Jasmine, or Jim Valenti, or some random dude killed by a stray bullet, he would absorb the darkness of their deaths too, for the amount of the time they were dead. Dude, think about his “wrongness” after healing Liz. And she was only dead for, like, a minute at most. This is part of why I’m a little critical about how “easy” it was for him to expel the darkness...because Liz’s one minute (ish) of death was enough dark energy to blow out the entire town’s power! So ten years of Rosa? Hell, that could be some scary shit. He shouldn’t have been able to just cause a little mini earthquake and shoot some lightning and then done? It doesn’t sit right with me.

7. If Liz had a fiance, does that mean when Diego asked her to marry her she said yes? Will we see this?

Typically that’s what it means when you have a fiancé. And god, I hope not. I did like that we got a little bit more Diego detail in this last episode. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see him at some point, but I really don’t care to spend much time with him. Diego is the past. Max is the future. And its not like Diego is a threat to Max. I think one of the things I like about the way they’ve set up Echo at this point in the series is that it makes almost no sense for them to find themselves in a love triangle. Like, they are already basically spiritually married at this point. I can’t imagine Liz looking at anyone else. I can’t imagine Max looking at anyone else. They’re it for each other.

8. Can you ask Carina if that's the real Max or a different Max?

Obviously I didn’t get a chance to ask, and I don’t think she would have answered it I had...but based on her tweets, I’m inclined to think it’s the real Max. Yes, there was a lot of interesting imagery, and we could still end up with some sort of Jekyll/Hyde situation per @maxortecho metas, but Carina basically admitted that they felt like they needed to get Max back at the halfway point in the season, and that even though they wanted to do more with Dark!Max, that they felt like they needed their male lead back. And that the amnesia twist was really just to give us the chance to see Max falling in love with Liz. So I think there’s some GREAT opportunities for AU/Dark!Max fic now, but that the guy we’re seeing on the show is the real deal.

9. Can you ask if we should be suspicious of Max or can Echo fans breathe for a little while?

So I think I answered a lot of this above, however, now that I have the recording of my chat with Carina, let me give you the exact quote that she said to me about Echo…

“Oh good, I felt like it was time that you got fed.” (After I told her I was an Echo person)

“It was nice to see them be happy and laughing. I don’t know how long it’s going to last, but...Echo’s relationship is pretty good for a little while.”

I think that’s fair and I told her so in the chat. I really don’t think it’s reasonable to assume they’ll be all happy all the time (like I posted about a few days ago), but I think pretty good for a little while sounds nice!

[kitten-keith]

Private Moments

Two posts in a day? Yeah cause while I was fighting with my internet I finally got the chance to sort of proof read this one. Started it in like... March? Last year. was more of a headcanon free form thing that got unintentionally longer and then longer still and then I forgot about it for months, popped in on it a few times, forgot some more and then finally wrote the most ridiculous sappy ending ever like-- last month? two months ago? Idk.

Anyway. Enjoy.

Klance, roommates AU. Lots of smut to make up for those last two I guess. Like this whole thing is born from the concept of Keith trying to find a comfortable way to masturbate.

---

Keith has had to share a room for as long as he can remember. The orphan home was crowded, schools gave you dorm mates. 

When he graduated he couldn’t afford to live on his own and between sharing a studio with Shiro and moving into a two bedroom with Hunk and Lance-- See, Hunk had a fancy catering job that helped him pay a larger share of the rent so he got the room to himself leaving Lance and Keith with twin beds on opposite sides of the second bedroom. It made finding alone time difficult.

Keith is tired of waiting for the dead of night when his roommate has his sleep mask and headphones on, already in some manner of deep sleep, to finally touch himself under the covers.

He hates how hot it is and how he sweats into his sheets when it takes too long and he starts to get desperate. 

Lance is wearing those headphones so maybe he could have gotten away with a relaxed moan or two but he bites his lip hard instead. 

He can’t do that. What if Lance hears him, what if he pulls down his mask and looks over and in the shadows of their shared room he can see Keith’s fist moving. 

He has to restrain himself. He constantly... constantly... has to restrain himself. 

And he is so god damn tired of it.

He thinks of Lance’s eyes on him once and cums faster than he’d thought he would and he wasn’t ready with his designated cum rag so it gets on the sheets and he spends the night terrified that Lance can smell it. Terrified that he’s going to nod off before it’s socially acceptable for him to be up and doing laundry and that Lance will get up first and see— 

He gets hard again, thinking about Lance’s face and the potential smirk that would grace his lips once he realized what Keith was doing in their room at night. 

The resulting stress of this causes him to consider Lance for the following days. 

The next time his body is so damn desperate for release in their room he thinks of him. He has to struggle not to come undone thinking about Lance’s hands and his mouth and those eyes watching him in interest...

He fucked up.

This was a mistake. 

Now when he looks at Lance or when they hangout for their weekly roommate movie he feels himself wanting.

He can’t masturbate the way he wants to while sharing a room with Lance and Lance makes him want to so badly...! 

He takes to going out more, like he used to do in high school. Getting himself fucked in the backseat of cramped cars where he still can’t scream, still can’t be comfortable, still can’t be wholly satisfied—

And then Hunk finally says the magic words. 

“Hey Keith, Lance and I are going upstate for this big catering job I have this weekend, you want to come with?” 

Keith freezes with his hands on the dishes. He’ll have the apartment. Empty. For a little over two whole days. 

Keith feels his throat go dry and tries to clear it, “uh— sorry, I think I might be coming down with something, it would probably be better if you guys go on your own.”

Lance waltzes in, comments on how Keith is totally going to take advantage of the empty apartment and invite his mystery boyfriend over.

Keith rolls his eyes, he doesn’t have a boyfriend. He barely remembers the names of the strangers stretching him out and trying to get him to cum all over their seats while he day dreams about his roommate. But oh, he will take advantage of the weekend.

He immediately orders some toys offline, pays for express shipping because he’ll be damned if he misses his opportunity to go absolutely wild. 

Lance and Hunk leave Friday before he wakes up and Lance only barely makes his bed. 

And maybe it’s because of his ill begotten sort of crush or maybe it’s because Keith is a deprived mess but as he stands over Lance’s bed so blown away that he is actually alone, actually able to relax he just kind of...Collapses into it. 

The remnants of Lance’s scent alone help get him to full hardness and he grinds his hips into the bed, his dick trapped in his pajama bottoms but the whole thing is still so freeing. 

He’ll wash Lance’s sheets later just in case. He’ll thank him for it, they were due soon anyway...

When he cums his voice is raw and his throat is dry as he moans Lance’s name. 

It feels amazing. 

Lance makes him crazy.

He passes out for a few minutes, face down in Lance’s bed, hugging his pillow to his face, damp spot soaking from his pants into the sheets. 

Worth it. Worth it worth it worth it.... 

But he can finally do so much more. 

When he gets back up he gathers up his toys on shaky legs and moves into the living room. The cool air across his pants feels nice. It’s supposed to be disgusting, he’s sure, but it still feels nice because he doesn’t have to care about it. 

He imagines how much nicer it will be sprawled out across the cool leather couch in the light from the window fucking himself on his toys. 

He can get completely naked, he can moan and cry out all he wants. He can make himself go for hours.

It’s going to be phenomenal, he’s already hard again from the excitement of it. 

He strips right there, feeling lewd and on display and it just excites him more. He drops his clothes on the floor and slides onto the couch, he shivers at the cold but it doesn’t dissuade him at all. 

He’s got lubed up hands over his body quickly. His moans are wanton, his breath is shallow. When he stretches himself out enough for the smallest toy he pushes it inside himself and spreads his legs wide just for the sake of it. Just because he can and a part of him gains confidence in that. 

A part of him is sad. 

No one will ever see him this free. This open. 

Because he fucks strangers and doesn’t know how to make an effort for them to be anything but. Doesn’t want to. 

Because he wants Lance. 

Because Lance isn’t a stranger and he’s more than just his roommate. He just...

Well. No. He is just his roommate because he can’t be more. Because Lance is too good for him. Because his laugh is infectious and his heart is too big and he can do anything when he sets his mind to it— 

And everyone loves him. 

Everyone should love him. 

Lance could have anyone. 

Why would he want his shitty socially stunted sexually repressed dumbass roommate??

Not. Even. Remotely... the way Keith wants to be thinking. 

So he shoves his cleaner fingers into his mouth and thinks about what it might be like to suck Lance’s cock right here, out in the living room pinned against the couch. 

He turns on the vibrations for his little bullet friend and feels a bit overwhelmed for just a second before he lets himself enjoy it.

He rolls his hips so the toy inside him drags against his sweet spot and he keens, voice caught with his tongue against his fingers. 

He still manages a sound like his name, because he wants to say his name. Wants to scream it over and over as he wrecks himself. On some level he wants the world to know how wild he can get— with one specific man in mind… but on all other levels, he’ll remain repressed. 

And in this case, he’ll keep his voice sensible enough to be respectable of the neighbors. 

Still, he’ll keep thinking about Lance. Wanting Lance. Imagining Lance’s hands and Lance’s teeth and Lance’s skin. Lance’s broad shoulders and long legs and clear blue eyes. Lance’s voice in his ear and his breath on his neck and his lips on his—

Oh.

He wants to kiss Lance. Very badly. 

So badly he swirls his tongue around his fingers and moans because he may be free but it’s so much easier to pretend he’s about to be fucked by Lance when he’s at least about to be fucked by someone. 

But he’s alone. 

He’s alone and he has to settle because he won’t go out and find someone, they aren’t Lance.

Speaking of... Lance would be bigger.

He retrieves his fingers and slowly removes the smaller toy, he hadn’t even played with higher vibe settings but that was fine, he had time later. Now he wanted the dildo he’d bought. He’ll have to stretch himself a little more but that’s fine. Because he wants to imagine that it’s Lance. Lance who’s thighs he’s straddling rather than the couch. Lance’s dick pushing inside him, hot and pulsing and desperate for him the same way Keith is desperate. 

When he’s finally ready for the purple plastic toy he lays over the back of the couch, warm chest against cold leather as he eases himself down. His legs are spread wide and his dick is slowly dragged down against the couch. He imagines if his roommates ever knew about this they’d probably get new living room furniture, but Keith doesn’t care. He has time. He’ll clean everything up once he’s done and they’ll never know. 

He’ll know. And maybe whenever Lance sits right here he’ll think about it. Think about how he wants to be sitting in his lap. Thinks about how he wants to drag his nails through his hair and not scrape along the leather of th seat back 

Wants Lance’s cock instead of this pathetic little purple bobble.

But he settles, because at this point this is his life and he should just be happy he has the place to himself. 

He sinks to the hilt and whimpers because he isn’t used to it. Isn’t used to the size and the stretch and how it still falls just short of his expectations.

“La-anceee...!” He cries out to no one. His head drops against the couch and he rolls his hips the tiniest bit against the intrusion. 

It feels better. Not good enough. But better. He tries to lift himself up. One hand reaching behind him to steady the dildo and keep it from simply rising with him. The lube makes it easier but it’s a tough sell and he’s still so very aware of the fact it isn’t a real person’s dick. It isn’t Lance. 

Lance would.. would have his arms wrapped around him. Would kiss him all over, bury his face in his neck and make his whole body ache with need for him.

He starts to ease himself back down, dreaming of Lance’s nose bumping at his collar and he starts to melt into the feeling, into the dream. 

He finds a rhythm and it feels good. His body thinks so anyway, with the way the heat builds in his belly. 

He flops onto his back against the armrest, works the toy into himself a little faster. Starts to jerk himself off in time with the thrusts but he’s sloppy and uncoordinated and it doesn’t matter too much if it’s still gonna make him cum.

His mind wanders to a long forgotten memory. Of one of the few times Keith had agreed to hang out with his future roommates back when they’d been high school classmates sneaking into bars that didn’t card. 

Keith had agreed because he was in the mood to drink. Lance, who at the time couldn’t stand Keith, had agreed because he had a date and that meant Hunk had company when he inevitably left him behind. 

The night was primarily a foggy blur in Keith’s mind but now, fucking himself over the armrest of his couch and thinking about Lance—

He remembered Lance’s date. 

He remembered how she couldn’t keep her hands off him and how they’d nearly immediately found a corner to make out. 

Keith hadn’t watched. Hadn’t cared. Drank away his anger over Iverson’s patented daily bullshit and tried to make small talk with Hunk who smiled a lot and was too nice for his own good. 

But occasionally Keith would scan the crowd and see. See how Lance had made that girl putty in his hands. How she leaned back over the edge of the booth they’d found for their supposed privacy and how her mouth hung open to moan or cry, with his lips on her jaw and his hands around her waist and under her skirt.

How Lance just... made her into this simpering mess. 

And at the time, Keith had simply rolled his eyes. Moved on.

But now here he was. Practically the image of that nameless girl and all from the mere thought of Lance. 

How had he been so blind for so long? 

Was it better that way? 

He grasped at the foggy edges of that memory and placed himself directly in her position. Nestled tightly against Lance’s body while he kissed and nipped and sucked on his throat, bare as he stretched further back, giving him all the room he needed as he fucked himself on his dildo and pretended his own hand was Lance’s, smearing precum all over his cock head. 

“Yes...” he breathed out softly. “Yes... Lance...!” 

There really was something about just being able to moan his name like that. So invigorating. 

He drives his hips down hard, the toy accidentally hitting his prostate. It makes his next cry of Lance’s name much louder than he’d planned. Louder, and desperate as his voice cracks and he sees stars. 

God help him, he hasn’t wanted anything more in his life and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to face Lance again. 

He’s aching, tossing himself front first over the back of the couch again to better his leverage as he keeps driving himself to that edge, Lance’s name a whispered mantra as he squeezes his eyes shut tight against what he’s feeling.

“I can’t take this anymore.” 

Warm arms wrap around Keith and pull, his back against a firm chest. Keith nearly screams but it dies in his throat when he finds he knows exactly who’s touching him. 

“G-god—! You’re— you’re not supposed to be here!” Keith pants as a hand grips his dick. 

Lance’s mouth finds Keith’s neck and the pleasure Keith feels is immeasurable, his tongue massaging his pulse and making Keith cry out. 

“You’ve been here moaning my name so long, I’ve gotta give you a reason for it Keithy...” 

Fuck. What was happening. Lance’s hand was so smooth and his teeth grazed at his shoulder and good god the dildo was being pushed deeper inside him, harder and faster than Keith’s original rhythm.

“Lance...! Lance!”

“You’ve been here fucking yourself to the thought of me... thought no one would hear you? Thought you could get away? Never telling me how badly you want me?” He drags Keith back far enough that his ass is in his lap now. Lance is wearing sweat pants that aren’t doing a damn thing to hide his hard on and Keith loves the feel of it. 

“Can’t believe you. Sprawled out naked on our couch with a bunch of toys... if you wanted my cock so much you could have just asked...”

Keith is going to faint.

“Ask me for it.” 

Keith is going to fucking faint, how is Lance here? How is Lance here and touching him like this— 

“Ask me to fuck you, Keith.” 

The toy is tugged out of him with no warning, leaving him open and empty and wanting. Lance drops it on the ground without a thought, grinding his hips up to push his point home to Keith. 

“Beg for my dick.”

Keith rolls his hips back but can’t find his words, still so lost, still so confused.

“Don’t you want me to? Don’t you want my big hard cock inside you? Splitting you open? Sounded like you did. Sounded like you were desperate for me. Come on beautiful...” 

Keith can only meekly whimper his name, “L...Lance...!”

“Cause man do I want to fuck you... everyday you come home from the gym wearing those nice tight leggings... fuck, it’s so hard not to touch you... and now you’re all open and pliant and calling my name... how am I supposed to not take you?” 

Keith can feel his cock rubbing over his entrance through the fabric and his eyes roll back at the very idea that Lance might actually... 

“R-really...? You want...me..?”

Lance growls against his neck, “Of course I do. Now say it before I cum in my pants, you’re too damn cute.” 

He rolls his hips and the sensation makes Keith keen again before going mostly limp in the arms, raising his ass a little more and giving a little shake to entice the other boy. 

“I want you... I want you so bad Lance... please fuck me...?” 

Lance’s teeth go for his neck and the mix of pleasure and pain has Keith seizing up, a loud moan breaking from his lips and covering the sound of Lance yanking his sweats down one handed.

“You can do better than that. But this once I’ll take it.” 

Keith doesn’t know where he finds the lube because one of Lance’s hands remains on his collar the entire time, but soon the damp head of his cock is sliding into him and Keith might see god. 

The toy wasn’t too far off Lance’s size actually, but the pleasure Lance brought him by comparison was insurmountable. 

“Do you like that...? Do you like how my cock feels, Keith?” Lance grunts against his shoulder as he slowly bottoms out. 

It takes Keith a moment to realize his moans have gone silent, lips dropping open but unable to wield the strength for sound as the feel of Lance completely enveloped him. Lance’s arms around him, his chest to his back, his dick fully seated, like being closer was impossible.

He croaks around his dry throat before offering Lance a very clear and eager: yes. 

Lance chuckles. 

“So cute... I’m going to wreck you Keithykins. Make you come back for me over and over...”

Over and over...

Keith could do that. Keith could absolutely go back to Lance over and over to feel this good. 

“Are you ready?” Lance asks, softer than before. 

But Keith is so ready he doesn’t even answer, simply pulls his hips back and slams back into Lance, rubbing that dick inside him in ways he’d only dreamed of. 

“Sh-shit!”

At Lance’s response Keith has to go again. 

Has to slam back harder, faster, make it worth it to Lance in the long run too, to make him come back to him again and again. 

The sound of his ass against Lance’s waist shouldn’t sound so good to him but coupled with Lance panting and his fingers twitching at his waist as he attempts to get a grasp on Keith to regain control— well it all feels like heaven to him. 

“Fuck! Keith. Keith. C’mere.” Suddenly Keith is pulled away from the couch and onto his back, Lance moves to lay on the couch beneath him, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as he starts his own rhythm, thrusting his hips up into Keith. He’s getting deeper now, and the angle seems to work for his speed too. It’s nearly punishing but Keith is living for it. 

Then Lance reaches up with one hand, cupping Keith’s chin tightly and turning him to face him. 

It nearly stops his heart.

Their lips brush lightly at first. A hint of static between them as it seems to dawn on them, how their relationship is changing with every second. How there’s no turning back from this. Lance’s hips don’t falter though. His eyes are calm, confident, positive that this is right. 

Keith can’t disagree. His hands find Lance’s thighs and give him a reassuring squeeze as he tries to stare back at him in a way he hopes exudes that same kind of sense of calm, lips parting in invitation but hiding his moans. 

Lance doesn’t mind too much, because he clearly wanted the invitation. 

When Lance thrusts up into him at the exact moment his tongue slides into his mouth, Keith considers he might actually have died. 

Died and entered the world where everything is rosy and Lance doesn’t ever let him go. Where these sensations never end and they can stay joined like this always.

Lance moans into the kiss and Keith can’t help but return those sounds in earnest. 

He can’t imagine how he ever went a moment without it in the past. Without this. Without Lance and the way his hands dig into his hips and how he nips at his lips still trying to catch his breath.

“So good Keith... you feel so good. Why weren’t we doing this before...?” Lance moans in his ear, one hand sliding over Keith’s chest to tease a nipple as the other delves south to stroke him in time with their movements. 

Keith shakes his head, unsure he can form words as well as Lance can. 

“I don’t know... I don’t know. We should have. We should have been— like this— like this from the sta—aa—art...! Lance...!”

It’s not long before Lance is pulling out, his cum all over Keith’s thighs and the seat of the couch. Keith’s cum already drenching his hand though Lance hadn’t ceased his strokes, causing Keith to writhe on-top of him through his orgasm. 

Finally, Lance releases him and nuzzles his face into the crook of his neck, letting them both simply lay there, basking in their joint mess, the smell of sex, the constant rising and falling of their chests. 

Sated and content and brains reminiscent of puddles of goo. 

Before they manage to remember to breathe again something short circuits In Keith’s brain and he laughs. He doesn’t have the air to laugh deeply but the sound is apparently enough for Lance to join him, arms coming back around him tightly as they both shake, voices raspy but filled with the same unbridled mirth. 

They end with a long wheeze from Lance, possibly due to the added stress of Keith’s weight. 

It’s silent again. 

Comfortable. 

“You really should have told me sooner...” Lance mumbles though, typical as the one used to breaking the silence. 

Keith turns his head, damp bangs against Lance’s neck. 

“You could have told me too...” he says through a smile that can’t leave his cheeks.

Lance chuckles again, “Point taken.” 

—-

(Bonus)

“...why are you even here? What about Hunk?” 

Keith can feel Lance’s face get warm beside his own cheek. 

He quirks a brow though he isn’t too sure Lance can see it.

“Uhhh... sooo... about that... I hid in Hunks room to try and sneak a peek at your secret boyfriend.” 

Keith raises his head to look Lance in the face. 

“But I don’t...?” 

Lance looks away, “I mean I know that now! But. I just. I didn’t know that. Before. And uh...” 

Keith stares. 

Lance won’t look him in the eyes. 

“...you ditched Hunk because you were jealous of my non-existent secret boyfriend?” 

“I mean I DID tell Hunk I’d meet up with him later!”

“Were you uh… jealous?”

“No I wasn’t— I just wanted to like-- I guess… see what I was up against? Scope out the competition— dooooont look at me like that. Oh my god.” 

[writeyouin]

Swerve X Reader – A Human Crewmate - Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - A Happy Ending

A/N – I cannot believe that I’ve got to this point. I loved getting here, but I’m sad to see it go. Fine, if we must part ways then I’m glad it’s to a happy ending. Based on headcanons by @rocksinmuffin and @straightouttacybertron and starring fan art by the miraculous @bloodypoptart

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Rodimus pouted from his position on the balcony overlooking the entire crew. This was where he usually made announcements, but no, this time you had called for an announcement and Megatron had simply agreed to whatever it was you were about to say. If you only relayed what you were going to say then Rodimus would say it for you, but no, apparently you were going to take one of the best parts of his job away. You assured him it was only going to be this once but he highly doubted that, once you found out how great it was to say anything you wanted while everyone else was forced to listen.

You glanced over to Rodimus sympathetically as if reading his thoughts. He gave a sarcastic thumbs up, indicating you were to start, although he already knew what you were going to say with Swerve stood by your side. Everyone already knew you were dating, thanks to Rewind. This was clearly an announcement to say so officially, probably to save face after the week’s earlier embarrassment. It’s not like he couldn’t say that for you. On his spot. On his ship. As Captain. But it was fine, he wasn’t jealous or anything, so long as you would hurry it up already so he could get back to actually following his quest… as Captain.

While Rodimus heaved a dramatic sigh, which you ignored, you looked at Swerve, silently affirming that he was ready. Swerve grabbed your hand, giving a small squeeze to let you know he was as prepared as he could be, though he was secretly more frightened than he’d ever been in his entire life, including all the years he’d spent in the war; war was inevitably something all Cybertronians were used to, commitment and marriage were much scarier. In war, you could choose to rely only on yourself if it was so desired, in a marriage, you suddenly weren’t alone anymore and as such had so much more to lose.

“You sure you want me to do this?” You whispered to him as the crowd below started to get restless; it reminded you of your first day on the ship, when you had to be publicly announced for the crew to assimilate to you.

“They’ll take it from you better,” Swerve said supportively, but what he really meant was that he had to hear it from you, if only to further prove the wedding was still happening and he wasn’t forcing you into it somehow.

You took a deep breath, not needing to ask for the crew’s attention as all optics were trained on you; even those who couldn’t leave their posts were undoubtedly watching you over the vid-screens. “Hi,” You waved somewhat awkwardly. Rodimus rolled his optics and came over with a microphone, thinking about how he never needed one when it was him making the speeches.

You nodded in thanks, hefting the heavy microphone that was made for Cybertronian size and was almost the same length as your torso. “Okay everyone, so it’s pretty obvious me and Swerve are dating but that’s not what I’m here to announce. Look, before I say what I’ve got to say, well… I’m- Uh, we’re not here to seek validation or for you to ask a bunch of questions or anything like that, it’s just, me and Swerve… Well, um, we’re getting married.”

You bit your lip, waiting for an uproar or maybe some cheering or even a deafening silence. You got neither the reaction you expected nor wanted, as almost the entire crew burst into fits of laughter.

You looked to Swerve for support, but he simply shrugged his shoulders, unsurprised that the crew thought it was all some kind of epic joke. You glanced at Rodimus, who was also in hysterics. Speaking into the microphone again, you said, “Hey, this uh, isn’t a joke, I’m serious, we really are getting married.”

Nobody heard you, but deep in the crowd, Rung, Chromedome, Rewind and Whirl were watching you very closely, knowing that you spoke the truth.

Whirl shook his head, deciding to take control of the situation once and for all. He blasted a loud shot into the ceiling from the one gun he’d managed to hide from Ultra Magnus and always carried around with him for such events that might be made more entertaining with bullets. The room fell silent as Whirl shouted, “THE NEXT PERSON TO LAUGH GETS VENTILATED. NOW, I DON’T KNOW WHAT (Y/N) SEES IN THAT IDIOT, FRAG, SHE’S PROBABLY JUST IN IT FOR THE FREE DRINKS BUT IT’S CLEAR THAT SHE’S NOT JOKING. YOU ALL SAW HOW SHE KISSED HIM ON THAT DAMN TAPE. SWERVE’S GOT GAME, I GUESS.”

You didn’t know what to say now that your entire speech had been derailed. You half expected things would get even crazier or that Ultra Magnus would interject, and it would turn into another debate about gun control. Instead, the entire room turned to you for confirmation and Ultra Magnus was too distracted to help as he cringed at the burn mark on the ceiling, clearly upset that his none of his Roomba armada would be able to reach the ceiling to clean it; besides that, he’d already lost far too many Roombas to the ‘secret’ fights the crew held.

“Yeah…” You said anxiously. “What Whirl said.”

Nobody said anything for a long time and finally Rodimus stepped forward, placing a comforting servo on your shoulder and smiling confidently. You thought he was the first to congratulate you in his own way, but little did you know, he was simply happy to be back in control with what he planned to do next.

“You heard the happy couple,” He beamed. “WE’VE GOT A WEDDING TO PLAN!”

Finally, there was a small cheer as everyone came to terms with what was happening. “Okay,” Rodimus said, “So I’m thinking we’ve got a lot to do and little time. Seven cycles sounds about right.”

You glanced at Swerve, seeing how everything was completely out of your hands; in seven days the two of you would be married. Everything in your life since joining the Lost Light had happened in whirlwind time, it should have been no surprise that your wedding would be no different.

“Alright,” Rodimus continued as he began pointing out people in the crowd, “Brainstorm and Perceptor, you two are on the (Y/N)’s bride outfit. Ultra Magnus, catering detail. Rewind, I want all kinds of documentation, I’m talking films, interviews with the bride and groom on their take on the love story, get everything you can. Blaster, you’re on music. Ten, Tailgate and Cyclonus, You three are on decorations.”

Cyclonus scowled, but before he could argue, Rodimus shouted his name, “HEY, DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT! YOU NEVER USE THAT SWORD FOR ANYTHING USEFUL ANYMORE ANYWAY… Primus, at least use it to cut up some origami or something. What does that leave… Mirage, you’re on bartending duty since Swerve can’t be and, let’s see, um…”

Swerve stepped forward to protest his distaste for Mirage, his chief contender, serving drinks at his wedding, but you held him back, “You really wanna serve drinks at your own wedding?”

Swerve sighed, and wrapped his arm around you, “I guess not, but the reception will be at my bar, not his.”

“Whatever you need to sleep at night, handsome,” You patted his chassis.

Rodimus practically glowed as he made his final announcement, “And last but certainly not least, only I can be the priest or whatever as the Captain of th-”

“CO-CAPTAIN,” A voice from the throng called.

Rodimus leaned over the railing, curling his fist angrily, “WHO SAID THAT?!”

Nobody answered, and Rodimus straightened up, pouting. “Fine, as Co-Captain I will officiate, Megatron can… I dunno, Megatron can be Swerve’s best man I guess.”

Megatron gritted his dentae and while he and Rodimus argued it out, Swerve looked at you pitifully, “Should I even try arguing this one?”

You gave his servo a squeeze, “Honestly, I don’t think you’d win.”

“Yeah. Me neither.”

The two of you held onto one another, the calm in the eye of the storm until Rodimus said, “Till all are one,” marking that the speech was over.

“Hey,” Swerve said, “You okay to be on your own for a while? I’ve got to sort something out… It’s a surprise.”

You smiled, “How intriguing. You think you can keep a secret?”

“Every once in a while,” Swerve chuckled.

“You know, it’s bad to keep secrets in a marriage, this could very well destroy us.”

“We’re not married yet.”

“Fine,” You said playfully, “Keep your secrets. It’s just as well, I’ve got to see Rung anyway.”

Swerve kissed your head lovingly and the two of you parted ways, each on your own little mission, preparing to begin a new adventure, together.

It was taking you much longer than usual to get to Rung’s because every time someone saw you, they stopped to congratulate you, and more than once, you found your path blocked by various wedding preparations. You even heard talk that some of the bots were struggling to rearrange Swerve’s; you hoped that wasn’t true because if it was, Swerve was going to have an aneurism.

Finally, your goal was in sight and you foolishly thought you were going to make it to Rung’s office until you were once again plucked out of the air by Whirl who threw you into a supply closet, locking the door behind himself.

You remembered the days you used to be afraid of such a situation, now they had become your normal. Although breathless by the impromptu kidnapping, you decided you still had to thank Whirl for his earlier rescue in the speech, if it wasn’t for him, none of the ship’s hubbub would be happening right now.

“Whirl, I-”

Whirl waved his claw casually, “Yeah, yeah, can it fleshie, I got something important to say. ‘Kay, now I’m not saying that marrying Swerve is bad but I’ve gotta ask, you sure you don’t wanna switch to a real mech?” He pointed to himself. “I’m a real prize, y’know. Nobody can take me in a fight. Tell me, what’s better than that?”

You couldn’t help yourself as you doubled over laughing, holding onto his leg for support, “Whirl, what the hell man?”

“Don’t blow this off so easily, really think about it, this is a one-time offer, trading Swerve for me.”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, still snickering. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, but hey, if you would do me a favour and be my mech of honour, that’d be great.”

Whirl had seen enough of the films in Swerve’s bar to know what you were asking. He rolled his optic sarcastically, “You have no idea of what we could’ve had but sure, go with the orange guy. Fine, I guess I can be the mech of honour… Does that mean I get to kill Swerve if he runs?”

“I- Um- Maybe try not to do that.”

“What about stabbing him a little?”

“I’d uh- rather have him kept whole.”

“Gotcha,” Whirl attempted a wink, which ended up being one unusually long blink. “Psychological torture and a light-beating only.”

You patted his leg in a supporting manner, “Sure, that sounds like a deal.”

Turning around, Whirl unlocked the door, letting you out first. “As your mech of honour, I’m gonna go train. Gotta get buff if that orange scumbag tries to run. Primus, I hope he runs.”

You blew Whirl a kiss, which he tried hard to ignore blushing slightly anyway, “You do that big guy; you’ll be the best mech of honour a girl could have.”

Whirl walked away, leaving you to finally get to Rung’s office. You jumped up to the door buzzer, taking three attempts before you managed to press it, silently cursing yourself for not wearing your rocket boots.

Rung opened the door, a look of surprise contorting his features. He thought he’d be the last bot you would want to see, considering his slightly strained relationship with Swerve. “(Y/N), what a pleasant surprise. Is this a professional meeting or a social call?”

He highly doubted it was the latter, becoming further shocked when you claimed it to be just that. Settling himself down in his chair, and giving you a boost to the desk, he waited for you to set the tone of the conversation, ever conscious that if he spoke first, he would blur the lines between patient and friend. Although he didn’t fully approve on your and Swerve’s hasty decision, he was determined to be supportive, afraid that if he wasn’t you would stop visiting him in both personal and professional terms.

When it became clear that you weren’t sure how to start, Rung found it impossible to ignore his processor, and spoke up quietly, “Presumably, you’re set on your decision so I’ll spare the lecture and simply ask, is this definitely what you want?”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking Rung in the optics, “More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. I love him Rung. He makes me feel safe and God, so, so happy.”

Rung nodded, satisfied with you answer, “Very well. Then I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you. I um- Excuse me for getting straight to the point but I need to know something, how much do you know about human weddings?”

“Not a lot, I’m afraid.”

You paced the table, taking time to find the right words, “Right… well, me and Swerve have decided that we’re going to somehow mesh our traditions, one wedding with the Endurae Ceremony thrown in. In human weddings there’s this role I need filling and it’s super important to pick the right person.”

Rung observed you, waiting for you to ask his advice on who to pick. He sighed, deciding to intervene before things got out of hand, “(Y/N), I cannot influence your choices on who to choose during your ceremony. It would be unethical-”

You grabbed his servo, “I want you to walk me down the aisle like the father of the bride is supposed to.”

Although Rung didn’t know what the significance was behind your request, he could tell from the tone of your voice that it was an important role. He took off his glasses, wiping away some coolant, “(Y/N), you’re sure about this?”

“Rung, you’ve guided me since my first steps on this crazy ship. You’ve made me a better person, and there is nobody I’d rather have giving me away than you. You’re the closest thing I have to a dad here and I want you by my side on my wedding day.”

Graciously, Rung bowed his head, “It would be my honour and a pleasure.”

You grinned, jumping to hug his chassis, feeling the comforting warmth of his arms wrapping around you, “Thank You.”

Rung stroked your back, waiting till you pulled away from him before speaking again. “The pleasure is all mine, though if you could tell me more about my role and how I am to fulfil it, that would be greatly appreciated.”

“Yeah, sure. Well, to put it-”

You were interrupted by the sound of a gong echoing over the ship’s announcement system, followed by Rodimus’ impatient voice. “(Y/N), how many times have I gotta tell you to carry around your communicator? Honestly, it’s zero, but you’re slipping, forgetting it in your room. Do you know how rude that is? What if we needed to track you? Like we did, right now, today, for a VERY important thing.”

You stared at Rung, silently begging him to tell you your communicator hadn’t really been bugged with a tracking device like you would give a dog or child. Rung raised his servos sympathetically as Rodimus continued his rant.

“What? You think I’m gonna tell you what the super cool thing is. Guess again. But if you’re not in rec-room 2B in ten minutes- wait, scrap that, make it twenty, gotta account for those tiny little legs… so cute. Anyway, twenty minutes, or I make no promises on what I’ll do to your room. Captain out!”

You shook your head disbelievingly, “I uh, I guess I have to go. Sorry Rung, rain check?”

Rung chuckled light-heartedly, “Yes, of course. Go find out what Rodimus wants, and don’t worry about me. I’m going to do all the research I can into human weddings.”

He helped you down from the desk, wishing you well as you ran down the hallways, trying to beat the timer Rodimus had set, and cursing the entire time as a cramp formed, hitting you like a needle every few seconds.

When you finally got to rec-room 2B, Rodimus was waiting outside, tapping his pede. “Primus, did you skip leg day? I’ve been waiting here forever,” He whined.

You held your hand up, ready to argue, but quickly let it drop, still trying to catch your breath.

Rodimus shook his head, placing a servo on the small of your back and guiding you into the room where a table was waiting with three seats. Cyclonus sat on the left seat and Nautica on the right, leaving the tall, middle seat for you. With Nautica’s assistance, you clambered up, watching Rodimus as he ran out of the room.

“What’s going on?” You asked worriedly.

“Don’t know,” Nautica said. “Rodimus dragged me in here as quickly as he could. Told me if I waited long enough, he’d get me a whole set of new tools… I think that was a lie.”

You nodded thoughtfully, turning to the ever stoic Cyclonus. “Tailgate,” He answered curtly, as if that was any kind of explanation.

Rodimus, re-entered the room, placing both servos on his cheeks, his mouth forming into a socked ‘O’ as if he never knew you were there. “Why, what have we here?” He asked loudly, strutting in front of the table like a peacock. “Well, if it isn’t our table of judges for the brand new, one-time-only, mech of honour contest! Today, for our three judges, we have a line a mile long, full of hopeful contestants to be (Y/N)’S MECH OF HONOUR!” He revved his engines excitedly.

“Uh, Rodimus,” You squeaked, thinking of Whirl. “I already-”

“AND HERE’S CONTESTANT NUMBER ONE!”

Tailgate skipped in, clearly having been trained by Rodimus on exactly where to stand. His visor flashed eagerly as he waved at you.

Rodimus patted him on his shoulder, “Tailgate, why don’t you tell our panel a little bit about yourself and why you deserve to be (Y/N)’S MECH OF HONOUR!”

“Are you gonna shout that every time?” Nautica asked almost boredly, thinking of the tools she would never get.

“Withhold any comments until after the audition please, judge Nautica,” Rodimus commanded, his optics still trained on Tailgate who began his audition.

“Hi, I’m Tailgate and I’d make a great mech of honour for the same reasons I’d make a great Co-Co-Captain.”

A few other mechs peaked in from outside, trying to determine what they were supposed to say during their auditions.

“Rodimus,” You smiled awkwardly, feeling it stretch too far across your face.

“Not now judge,” Rodimus waved you off.

You sighed, seeing that there were no other options. “I already have a mech of honour!” You told the room, “I picked Whirl earlier.”

Riptide booed from outside, and Tailgate began muttering to himself, “Don’t get to be mech of honour, don’t get to be Co-Co-Captain, don’t get to be anything.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but I didn’t know you were planning any of this,” You gestured at the line of mechs who were blocking the door to listen in.

“(Y/N),” Rodimus held his helm in his palm. “(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)… You know how impulsive I am, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Don’t blame me!”

“I blame you!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the disappointment surrounding you. “Ugh, fine, I guess I can have two bridesmai- uh bridesmechs.”

Upon hearing this, Tailgate pushed Rodimus away from you, “As I was saying. I would be the best candidate for a tonne of reasons, right Cyclonus?” He winked.

“I’m not going to be a part of this,” Cyclonus deadpanned, leaving the room solemnly.

“Wha- CYCLONUS, COME BAAAACK,” Tailgate whined, chasing after him.

Nautica pulled out her datapad, making a note. “Hmm, chases after his own personal problems instead of focusing on the bride. Not a good quality in a bridesmech. Too bad, he was doing so well until then.”

You smirked, amused with how scientific she was even now; it looked like most of the decisions of the contest would be up to her for the rest of the game Rodimus had dragged you both into.

“Contestant number two, we are waiting for you,” Rodimus called, in a game-show host kind of voice.

Riptide stepped forward, “Hi, I’m Riptide, but all my friends call me… uh Riptide.”

You snickered into the palm of your hand, finally beginning to see the appeal in Rodimus’ game, even if it was to be a long one, judging by the ever-growing queue outside.

Swerve hugged you close to him, wrapping you in your blanket that he’d moved over to his berth along with an assortment of pillows. You had already told him of your long day and how it ended with you picking Nautica, Tailgate, Rewind, Chromedome, and Riptide as your bridesmechs, mainly because everyone kept complaining until you did.

“A gaggle,” You groaned. “I have a gaggle of bridesmaids.”

“Bridesmechs,” Swerve corrected you playfully.

“They’re like Gremlins! Spill water on one and it multiplies.”

“Primus, I love you,” Swerve murmured at the reference.

You peeked up at him, frowning suddenly, “Hmm, you’re awfully quiet tonight. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been talking.”

“Yeah, talking but not babbling. What’s with that? I mean- Wait!” You sat up, “Are you trying to keep your secret thing quiet by not talking.”

Swerve blushed, going ridged, “NO!”

You slapped his chest, grinning idiotically, “You totally are. What is it? Come on, tell me!”

Swerve mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?”

He nodded vigorously.

“I bet I can get those lips open.”

He shook his head. You placed a single finger under his chin, drawing him close to you and kissing him, slipping your tongue in to rub against his metal one. He moaned into your mouth, accepting defeat, even when you pulled away.

The two of you laid down again, and Swerve finally spoke, albeit quietly, “Are you happy?”

“Of course, why do you ask?”

“It’s just… in Mork and Mindy, they waited four years for the slow burn until Mork proposed to Mindy. Four seasons, that’s like four years for you guys. Are you sure I’m not rushing you?”

You stroked Swerve’s cheek, “I think this is more like a Sam and Diane kind of thing in Cheers.”

“Sam and Diane… (Y/N), are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No, they get together in like, season one.”

“And then they repeatedly break up and they finally stop seeing each other after breaking off their engagement in the season four finale.”

“Really? God, I have got to see more of that show.”

Swerve let go of you, “You haven’t seen all of cheers?!”

“Save it for the honeymoon babe. What I meant was, they spend ages beating around the bush until they’re finally together and then it’s a full-on relationship, in season one at least. Now come on, no more Cheers talk, tell me at least a little bit about your day, pretty please.”

“Fine,” Swerve huffed, “But the Cheers thing isn’t over, it’s just on hold.”

You nodded agreeably.

“What to tell you, what to tell you… Oh, I chose our song for the first dance.”

“Is it one of those funny ones where we pretend to slow dance then pick out a hip-hop number?”

“W—well, not uh, not really,” Swerve stammered, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as his cooling fans kicked on. “I-I mean we could do that if you want, but I was thinking something more traditional?”

“Really? I thought you’d like an opportunity to show off.”

“I uh- I guess we could. I’d have to pick a different song but if that’s what you want then…”

Seeing how much Swerve wanted his traditional dance made your heart flutter. You pecked his lips, “No, whatever you’ve picked will be perfect, I just know it.”

“I’m still not telling you what song it is,” Swerve smiled.

“Oh, come on,” You pouted, “I’d tell you. Man… I cannot believe you can keep a secret.”

“Speaking of secrets… I’ve been thinking about how to integrate the four acts of The Conjunx Rites into a human wedding and, uh… how much do you know about the Conjunx Rites, by the way?”

“Between my vast knowledge of everything? I know… nothing.”

Swerve vented his fans anxiously, “Um, the first act is the act of intimacy.”

You bit back a laugh, thinking of the night before with Swerve between your legs. Reaching over and tracing your fingers lightly over his interface panel, you winked, “Pretty sure we already got that one covered.”

Swerve blushed and stammered on, “I-I was thinking we c-c-could just hold hands or something, for the crowds.”

You giggled, and stopped teasing him, keeping your hands to yourself, “Alright, then what?”

“I’m gonna save Act 2 for last because I dunno, we’re rebels and kinda screwing with tradition as it is, so next is the act of profference. We have to give each other a gift of some kind.”

Reaching behind him, Swerve pulled a small orange metal box from underneath the mountain of pillows. “I want to give you this officially on the day, but I think you should see it now.”

Wordlessly, you took the box, opening it to find a plain purple ring, the likes of which you’d never seen before. While you stared at it, Swerve started explaining.

“I don’t know if you’ll get it, but it’s made out of my innermost energon… Percy found a way to stabilize it into a metal, so, uh, well, it’s important to me and I’ll explain if you need me to.”

As it happened, you didn’t need Swerve to explain; you already knew that receiving inner-most energon was the highest form of love and respect you could receive from a Cybertronian.

“I get it,” You said quietly, wiping your eyes free of tears.

Trying to alleviate the sombre, yet joyous mood, Swerve said, “Brainstorm wanted to make it, but he was planning to inscribe it with ‘One Ring to Rule Them All.’ There’s still a good chance, he’ll put something like that on your dress.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. Closing the box gently, you handed it back to him, “I don’t know what I can possibly give you that could ever match up to that.”

“You’ve already given me something though (Y/N).”

“Please do not say that boxset of ‘Three Men and a Baby’ I found.”

“(Y/N), you’re exempt from act three because you’ve already given me something nobody else could; a reason to live.”

You looked up, shocked and afraid, despite his happy tone. You were about to say something when Swerve got the ball rolling again with act four. “The final act is the act of devotion, which is to perform a spectacular demonstration of love. I think we can both agree that’s the wedding.”

“So, then what’s act two?” You whispered, feeling an almost electric atmosphere once you asked.

“The Act of Disclosure, which I think we should do here and now, otherwise it kind of defeats the object of telling an intimate secret… We can’t really do that in front of a crowd.”

Swerve waited with bated breath to see your reaction; asking someone who wasn’t prepared to reveal something intimate about themselves wasn’t exactly comforting.

“I…” You took a deep breath. “On Earth, there was always so much pressure to find someone who you’re meant to be with. They don’t really show it on TV, but we are told all the time that we have to find somebody or die alone, there’s never any time to relax or be free under so much damn pressure and it is terrifying to think that we- that I was brainwashed into it just like everyone else. ”

“I never trusted anyone enough to think of them as someone I’d want to be with. When I got here, I acted more confident and mature and, I um, guess it was kind of a clean slate for me. I never actually expected that I’d find someone to spend my life with but suddenly, when the pressure to fall in love was off, I met you. Swerve, you are my happy ending, when I didn’t think I could have one anymore. I don’t um- Is that what you were thinking? Is it intimate enough? I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be do-”

Swerve pulled you into a hug, his entire body convulsing in silent sobs. Suddenly, you knew why this step was so important, and so you held him, until he was ready to share his secret.

Swerve shook himself, as if trying to physically shake his nerves away, though it was evident he couldn’t as his vocaliser filled with static when he spoke. “Um, I’ve… Let’s face it, I’ve lived through a war. I’ve seen horrible things, done worse sometimes but that’s no secret of any Cybertronian. My secret is- W-What I’m trying to say… When war lasts that long, you have to expect that people, even the most desperate are going to be pushed into relationships, some of which last, most of which break. Some are intimate, but a lot were purely sexual… My point is, that even though I looked for anything in either of those categories, nobody ever loved me- Scrap, nobody even liked me enough to well… Y’know, uh- You were my first.”

Swerve half-expected you to laugh, despite the sober atmosphere. Instead you drew him close once again, staring into his visor, “Then all those others were idiots and I got lucky. I love you and I am so damn proud to be your first.”

Swerve looked away, “You’re not embarrassed by that?”

You shook your head, feeling your way over to his interface panel, a misty glint to your eyes. Swerve grabbed hold of you gently, still not meeting your gaze,

“Then… Then you won’t be embarrassed if I ask to wait till after the wedding? I know we already did it before but now… I want to wait till we’re married, and you are Mrs. Swerve.”

You drew back scowling, “What the hell, Swerve?”

He shrank back from you, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Why? Why would I be Mrs Swerve? You don’t even have a last name, if anything, you’d be Mr (L/N).”

Swerve’s jaw dropped as he stared at you, soon grinning goofily. “Is this how it’s gonna be from now on?” He asked. “You giving the orders and me just obeying like the mindless idiot who worships you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Thank Primus,” He laughed, grabbing you and rolling back onto the berth so you were on his chassis again.

You woke up, with a nauseous stomach, finally afraid now it was your wedding day. How had seven days passed so quickly?

“Swerve?” You mumbled. “You awake?”

You turned over, finding the berth empty, aside from a note that had been messily scrawled over the rest of the berth.

Hey fleshbag, it’s bad luck to see the groom on the wedding.

Swerve will be returned, mostly in one piece at the wedding.

- M. O. H. (MECH OF HONOUR)

 You smiled, the message alleviating your nerves slightly. All the same, you wanted to call Swerve and make sure he wasn’t getting cold pedes. Had it not been for a banging on the door, you would have.

“Who is it?” You called, falling off the berth ungracefully and hissing as you rubbed your sore hip.

“It’s your fairy godmother,” Brainstorm answered cheerily. “With your carriage and might I say, a very glamorous ensemble for you.”

You opened the door wide, “…Does it have your face on it?”

Brainstorm gasped, covering his faceplate playfully. “Y/N, this is your big day and you think I would make it about me? How dare you? I’ll have you know that this is a traditional Earth wedding outfit that I have lovingly synthesized with you in mind.”

“So Perceptor wouldn’t let you?”

“Not even when I offered to put his photo on it too, talk about selfish.”

You nodded almost mournfully, playing along with his game, “That prick.”

“Yeah… Anyway, here it is,” He stepped outside, bringing your outfit back with him. It was in the traditional white, but instead of being a dress or a tuxedo, it was both. There was a small white zip for you to tear away either the skirt or the pants so you could choose your style. You teared up slightly.

“Yeah,” Brainstorm said sympathetically, “I mean it is good, but I’d cry too if my face wasn’t on it, where it clearly should be. No time for that now though, your carriage awaits.”

You tore your eyes away from the outfit, peeking through the door to see a giant truck with a bow on it; the bow had Brainstorm’s face on it.

“Magnus?” You asked, somewhat dazed.

“(Y/N), it’s almost time for your wedding and you have not even done your hair yet? This is going to throw everything off schedule,” Ultra Magnus reprimanded, proving that it was indeed him. He sighed, switching to his communicator, “Rodimus, (Y/N) isn’t ready yet… I already told you- No I will not use those ridiculous code names and furthermore- You will refer to me as Ultra Magnus or else- Fine,” Ultra Magnus said defeatedly, apparently losing whatever argument he was in with Rodimus. “Flaming Cupid, Princess Perfect is running late. Keep Lucky Orange calm and where he is, we will be there soon.”

You giggled quietly to yourself.

“I heard that Princess- I mean (Y/N). Get inside and get ready. Schedules wait for nobody.”

“Okay, I’m going, but real quick, are you comfortable doing this? You’ve never driven me anywhere before.”

“(Y/N), this may well be the most important day of your life, I would not be here if it wasn’t.”

Brainstorm leaned over to you, covering his mouth-plate and whispering, “He was afraid anyone else would speed.”

“Speed laws are to be obeyed,” Ultra Magnus warned you exasperatedly.

With that, you skipped back into your room to get ready for the first day of the rest of your life.

Swerve waited at the end of the aisle with shaking legs, the only thing that kept him from pacing was Megatron’s servo on his shoulder; the action was supposed to be supportive, but coming from Megatron, it only felt intimidating.

“I’m gonna purge my tanks,” Swerve whimpered.

“Do it glitch, I dare ya,” Whirl warned from opposite him, throwing a metal, painted bouquet at Swerve and hitting him square on the head, much to Megatron’s chagrin.

“Hey!” Rodimus picked up the bouquet, shoving it at Whirl’s chassis. “Remember, we’re here for (Y/N).”

“And me too, right?” Swerve squeaked, feeling faint.

Rodimus rolled his optics, “Yeah, yeah, you too, whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Suddenly, music began playing, and everyone stood up as they’d been told to do. Nautica, Rewind, Chromedome, Riptide and Tailgate ran to the front where they were supposed to be just in time for Ultra Magnus to drive around the corner and let you out. Ultra Magnus transformed, spotting his Brainstorm bow for the first time and tearing it off in disgust. He took his place in the back, while Rung went to your side in his holo-form, so he could link arms with you.

You barely had time to look around at all the intricate decorations as you were walked down the aisle towards Swerve who looked completely dumbfounded that you’d actually showed up.

“Are you nervous?” Rung asked you quietly.

“Absolutely,” You whispered back.

“Don’t be, from everything you’ve told me over our messages this past week, you’ll do great.”

You squeezed his arm in thanks.

“I believe it is customary for the ‘father of the bride’ to offer a compliment. I may not be your creator, but I must say, you are glowing. I am truly happy for you (Y/N), ah, but here is where we part ways.”

Rung went to take his seat, but you pulled him back slightly, pecking his cheek, “Thank you. For everything, I mean. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Rung put a hand over his spark, bowing his head humbly and leaving your side, as you went to join Swerve.

“Finally,” Rodimus groaned, “That took forever.”

Chromedome nudged him warningly, giving Whirl just enough time to lean close to you, “Told you I’d get the glitch here in one piece.”

You nodded, holding back a laugh at the already unconventional wedding.

“Alright,” Rodimus boomed, “Let’s get on with it so we can get to the P-A-R-T-Y!”

Megatron glared at Rodimus, silently telling him to tone it down, but Rodimus didn’t care as he went into a full-on impression of an over-the-top-preacher. “I have been told that Act two of the Conjunx Rites has been completed, can I get a HALLELUJAH?!”

The entire room cringed and Rodimus scowled, “Ugh fine.” He grew semi-serious, facing you and Swerve with a smile, “Swerve, (Y/N), if you would like to initiate Act One of the Conjunx Rites?”

You reached out for Swerve’s servo, smiling radiantly the entire time. Thankful that you had made the first move, Swerve grabbed your hand gratefully, squeezing a little too tight, though you didn’t mention it.

“Very good, and I believe you have something to give one another?”

Once again, you surprised Swerve by holding out an orange metal box, identical to his. He reached out carefully, “(Y/N)… What-”

“Open it,” You said.

He did, finding a locket that would fit perfectly in one of his sub-spaces. He flicked open the locket, finding a lock of hair inside. He stared at you, mouth slightly agape at the unexpected gift.

“I may not have any inner-energon, but I figured this is close enough.”

Rewind leaned forward to get a better view, his camera displaying a live-feed to all the vid-screens on the ship, including two large ones for all the attendees.

“Ha ha,” Riptide laughed, “Gross.”

Nautica nudged him and Swerve ignored the pair as he tucked the locket delicately into his subspace, offering you his own box shortly afterwards, letting you put on the energon ring yourself because his servos were shaking so badly.

“Great,” Rodimus clapped his servos together, “Then that leaves act four, Swerve, I believe you’ve prepared some vows but I looked at them and they were long, so here’s a queue card that I wrote and believe me, it’s an improvement.”

He pulled a card from behind him which Megatron firmly snatched away, glaring the entire time, “Let. Him. Speak.”

Rodimus grumbled, stepping back, “Fine. Bet he doesn’t say ‘Till we are one’ though.”

All optics and Rewind’s camera went onto Swerve who stood dumbly, unsure of what to say now that he didn’t have his datapad with the speech on it. “I um-” His voice filled with static and he had to wait a minute to clear it. Ratchet creeped behind him, turning a fan on in case he overheated; you withheld a wry smile.

“(Y/N),” Swerve began, “You- You’re the Monica to my Chandler. You listen to me even when I get crazy and I know I’m not good enough for you, Primus, this whole ship does, but you’re here anyway. I want to spend every nano-click with you, in the non-creepy way. You’re my universe.”

The static began again and Swerve had to take a small step back, though he still held onto you, more for support than anything else.

“(Y/N),” Rodimus said, “Care to add anything to that?”

“What can I say other than what I’ve already said?” You mused. “You’re my happy ending Swerve, and if you can deal with all my gross human stuff, that’s good enough for me. I love you, you’re my lucky star… and I’m totally in it for the free drinks,” You laughed and the crowd chuckled along with you.

“Then by the power vested in me,” Rodimus went back to his preacher voice, “as Co-Captain of this ship, I present to you, these Rodimus stars for the Lost Light’s first ever interspecies marriage.” Seemingly from nowhere, he pulled out two gold stars, passing the human-sized one to you and handing the other to Swerve. “I now pronounce you Conjunx Endurae and mech and wife.” He looked at Swerve, “What are you waiting for? Kiss your lady love!”

You didn’t wait for Swerve as you jumped into his open arms, kissing him while the crew cheered.

The two of you were broken up by a loud shot from another gun Whirl had managed to smuggle in. Once again, Ultra Magnus stared mournfully at the ceiling, wondering exactly where Whirl had got the other gun from; he had confiscated last week’s after the first incident.

Whirl picked you up, “FIRST ONE TO THE PARTY GETS A PRIZE KISS OFF (Y/N).”

A mass of Cybertronians transformed, each trying to beat Whirl to the bar while Swerve was left alone, wondering how he was still left competing with the crew over you, even now that you were married.

After you’d given a victory kiss to Whirl, the party kicked off to a roaring start, with you being dragged off in every direction while Swerve tried to catch up. Finally, you managed to reach him at the bar, which he glared at enviously, hating that Mirage was serving drinks, even on the happiest day of his life.

“Hello, Mr (L/N),” You bowed graciously.

“Hello, Mrs Swerve,” Swerve curtsied. He offered you his arm, “If I may ask you for a dance?”

“How courteous of you,” You smiled, then paused to listen to the current song. “Yep, I always wanted my first dance to be to Wrecking Ball.”

Swerve snickered, “I’m afraid not.”

He led you to the dancefloor then waved at Blaster, who instantly switched the song off. Frank Sinatra’s ever sweet melody, ‘I Love You Baby,’ played instead and you bit your lip, fearing your face would practically split open from smiling too much. Swerve led, matching the pace of the song, and gazing at you adoringly the entire time.

“This was your big surprise?” You asked.

He nodded vigorously, not trusting his voice to match the lie he’d just told; so long as you thought the song was his secret, he was fine.

You leaned into his chassis, ignoring the faster pace of the chorus so you could simply hold onto him, spinning slowly, “I love you too.”

“Not as much as I love you,” Swerve responded ecstatically, picking you up bridal style. You squealed, letting him twirl around, helpless to stop him anyway. All around, the night was perfect and you would never dream of asking for anything more.

Later on, when you were distracted once again by many a bot who wanted to congratulate you, Swerve received a comm on his private channel. He checked his messages, finding a text from Brainstorm and Perceptor, telling him his request was ready. Checking on you once again, Swerve slipped out, transforming so he could be at Perceptor’s lab in record time.

He let himself in, finding the two bots talking about you and the ethics of the project Swerve had asked them to complete. “It’s ready?” Swerve asked. “And you’re sure it will work?”

“Of course,” Perceptor said almost offendedly. “We invented it. It works.”

“Can I see?”

Brainstorm grabbed a remote control, pressing it with flair so one of the flooring panels lifted up as well as thick plumes of smoke.

Perceptor waved the smoke away casually, “Was the smoke machine really necessary?”

“Well you wouldn’t let me have the laser show,” Brainstorm explained. “Where’s your sense of presentation?”

Swerve didn’t listen to either of the pair, he was too focused on what had come out of the floor to care.

Perceptor turned his attention to Swerve as the orange mech stroked a lifeless mini-bot model that looked remarkably like you yet worlds different at the same time. “Are you sure (Y/N) will agree to this? We are talking about moving her consciousness from one body to another.”

“Human life is too short,” Swerve said as if it was an answer. “She doesn’t have to say yes today. Primus! I want her to stay human as long as she can but… But I just got her, I’m not losing her in the blink of an optic. Make sure this will work, I’ll get her to agree. She’s everything to me.”

He walked out of the lab, transforming so he could get back to the party. Finally, things were going his way.

THE END.

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[lizord-lord]

The Invisible Language

(This is a vent fic. I was struggling with having to dump a friend yesterday and it got me dwelling on my social struggles..and so I tried my hand at actually writing a fic to project all my problems through! XD)

(For anyone who doesn’t know, I have autism-Aspergers specifically, and I totally 100% headcanon Logan as an aspie. I have this post detailing why. So..for those of you who also stan autistuc Logan (and maybe a bit of ADHD Roman) here is this, me basically throwing my entire life story on our poor nerd and I am so sorry but also not XD. Also, the book I mentioned is very real, and I actually own it. It’s really useful, if a bit dated and heteronormative)

Warnings: Descriptions of sensory overload (similar to a panic attack) social struggles, very brief mention of selfharm, mentions of fistfights and minor physical violence.

Ships: none, but you can probably see my logicality heart in there lmao

The Invisible Language.

It was all just so complicated now.

Or rather, now he knew how complicated it was.

Before, Logan had always just thought he was bad with people. That was fine. It fit, with his habit of staying inside with his nose in a book. The socially awkward, introverted nerd who wasn’t good with kids.

It was simple.

But that’s the thing. Life isn’t simple. And neither was Logan. Even as a six year old.

The socially awkward, introverted nerd, from what he’d seen on tv, would have cried or just silently tried to make due when another kid ‘accidentally’ spilled tomato juice all over his copy of Alice in Wonderland. Logan Sanders leapt from his desk, grabbed the kid’s wrist, and yanked him down so his head smashed into the wood.

The socially awkward one was laughed at. Logan was sent to the office.

Time and time again this would happen. Until he turned eight, and his parents pulled him out of school. He was homeschooled after that, and it was simultaneously like a breath of fresh air and entering a stifling hot room. He was free of the children, free to discover on his own, but he found himself itching for more, to ask questions about things his parents could answer, to do projects he’d heard about online but often ended up screaming in his attempts to recreate them because it wasn’t explained, why this, why that, how do I do that, it doesn’t make sense!!

Homeschooling was a blessing and a curse. He made due. He did well in fact, almost all of his online courses were marked complete with a neat 100 for the score. It was enough for them, but not for him.  Eight year old Logan hated it. Ten year old Logan was used to it.

Eleven year old Logan dug his heels into it.

Middle school. His parents wanted to send him back. He understood their reasoning, the rational half of his brain did. Middle school was a big change, adolescence, and the middle ground before high school, which he always knew he would be going to-you can’t get college credit from online courses and library books after all, not the ones he was using. It would give him time to prepare. And yet he was a creature of habit, so used to his solitary life..

Logan has no choice however.

On the first day he stepped inside, armed with only the knowledge of American Girl books he’d skimmed through (who cared if they were meant for girls, they didn’t write helpful guides for boys!) and distant memories of elementary school. The first weeks went by as a blur, and Logan ate it up. The assignments, the grades, the smirk he always found himself wearing when he placed his assignments in the bin. That triumph didn’t even compare to the rush of pride and satisfaction he felt when the teacher told the class that he test they’d been given was apparently too hard, many kids failed and only one student actually got a perfect score, and his paper was handed back with a 100 written on the top.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t hold the paper up a bit and catch the eyes of the numerous people who stared at him with no surprise in their eyes.

Logan even found friends in those first few weeks. A darkly dressed kid who, much like him, never really knew where to go during paired projects and ended up working with him. He found that Virgil was actually very bright, a relief when he looked around the room to see people talking and not doing anything useful. The pale boy was quiet, but listened as Logan chattered away about his  plans for the assignment.

Patton was next, a round-faced boy who seemed to share at least a few words with everyone he saw. Logan didn’t mind that. He wasn’t a lazy student, maybe a bit easily distracted, but when he was sat next to Logan in science his work quality was always at least a solid B, as long as he was shushed every now and again. He seemed better with people too, and Logan found himself enjoying his company.

Then there was Roman. He was introduced to their little trio by Patton, who apparently shared a drama class with the tanned boy. He was..a handful. And yet Logan found himself challenged by him. Their friendship was an unusual one, full of debates that more often than not ended in yelling, but at least they started off with intelligent points and interesting ideas-and if often Patton had to break off their passion so neither of them landed with lunch detention, well that was the price to pay.

He was enjoying himself here.

Then the second month. Logan remembered where he was when a redheaded girl told him he was wrong in that ‘you’re a moron’ tone when he told her that actually, the word for the study of space was astronomy, not astrology. When a boy in a green sweater had blatantly ignored him when he asked him to stop scooting his chair across the hard floors. When an entire group of people had continued to call him Logie even though he’d told them over and over he hated it. Many of them seemed to do it just because it annoyed him. This went on. Every day another simpleton would disrespect him. Every day he’d tell him to stop. Often he’d snap at them, or swear. That always got him snickers in return. And Logan found himself clenching his fists as his whole body burned red hot.

It happened again a week after this started. A boy with a Minecraft t-shirt cut him off in the lunch line, and when Logan told him to go to the end, the boy only scoffed and responded with “Are you in kindergarten?” in a tone that made his blood boil with how fucking snotty it was.

Logan’s hand was fisted in the back of that obnoxious t-shirt and pulling back with all its might before he could think.

The boy ended up on the floor crying, and Logan ended up suspended.

There were more incidents that year. Mostly yelling or swearing, but minor physical violence was not unheard of. It was common even.

Logan didn’t want that. He wanted to be cool, to drop the bullies and idiots with bullets of intelligence from his tongue, but everything he tried a witty comeback they’d give him either confused looks, no acknowledgement as all, or retort with ‘Your mom’ jokes, a sort of ‘insult’ that required barely a single brain cell to perform.

They never listened. They were stupid, childish, disrespectful. Logan stuck only to his three friends and the many teachers he’d grown quite friendly with, They liked him after all, he was precocious and that was something teachers always found fun. with adults, he also found he could make himself actually heard, his theories, ideas, suggestions, it was a glorious freedom he had previously only had with Patton, Roman, and Virgil.

But things didn’t get that much better.

In fact, in seventh grade Logan found his outbursts getting worse. They were farther and fewer between, but the eventual rage that would explode was far worse than before. It was like the dam that held back his rage had grown stronger, but that meant it took more water to barrel it over, and that sent far more devastating floods down the peaceful valley of his mind.

In eighth grade, he got into a fistfight with a boy who had called Roman gay as an insult, not knowing that it was true or that the word should not be used in such a manner. When the boy refused to listen to Logan’s explanation of what the word meant and instead switched tracks to scoffing every time he said it was a normal and perfectly acceptable, beautiful thing. And by the time the midget of a bigot tossed in the dreaded f-slur Logan’s mind was so crimson he only felt a rush of relief when his fist connected with the boy’s head.

It was two weeks of suspension for that. And it was during that time that Logan’s mother revealed something to him that he had never expected.

Tales of his childhood-or babyhood rather, where he had exhibited strange behaviors no other parent seemed to have seems.

“I think you might have Aspergers,” she had said.

And now, here he was. He couldn’t believe it had taken her this long to tell him of her suspicions. But now Logan was sitting on his bed, the blanket covered with constellations, staring at the cover of a book.

It was a familiar scene.

But this wasn’t a book chosen by Logan’s own hand, or by the school, or even a recommendation from his parents or a loan from his younger sister Abby.

It had been gifted to him by the man at the Autism Center.

The Asperkid’s Secret Guide to Social Rules.

He’d read the whole thing.

Before, he’d thought he was just awkward.

But no. Of course it couldn’t be that simple. It wasn’t that he just didn’t know that w to say. He was. missing an entire way of communicating that people his mind now knew as ‘neurotypicals’ spoke in without realizing it.

The secret language. Body language, facial expressions, tone, he knew that all existed yes..but he’d never seen it. At least not in the subtleties the book described. And all these double meanings of phrases? So the dark-skinned girl who had asked him what he was reading during math class didn’t want to just read the back and learn Sherlock Holmes’ latest mystery? She’ wanted to get to know him?

Why didn’t she just say so!

It was so much more complicated now. The vague, yet simple term of ‘weird’ was replaced by the vast, yet specific, confusing, and multifaceted word that was autistic. A word he’d never have expected to apply to him. Mental health went really a subject he’d looked into, feelings were too wound into it.. and feelings had always been his greatest vice.

So now, with that book in his hand, he thought.

There was a whole other world he couldn’t see..that’s what he had been missing all this time? was the specific shifts in tone in posture people made-what he’d always thought to be absently-something his parents expected him to understand and that was why he always seemed to have to be elbowed when running his mouth?

It was like….like telepathy. Yes, to Logan, the cues he now found himself putting extra effort into finding; his sister’s slightly hunched shoulders at the dinner table, his dad’s slightly turned up nose when he mentioned his history teacher, were a sort of telepathy that the ‘normal’ population all shared. But it wasn’t as if it was that simple. Of course, it was tauntingly, agonizingly complicated. You see, these people were all telepaths, sharing cues in an invisible tongue-and yet, none of them knew they were telepathic. And yet still, they all expected everyone else to be.

So that was why he was strange. Logan had looked up how much of communication was non-verbal - he felt his eyes go wide when he saw the percentage dedicated to ‘body language’.

Fifty-eight percent.

Fifty-eight percent.

What else could he have missed?

Logan was both happy and uncomfortable with the diagnosis. He now knew terms, words, blessed reasons for his little ticks, why he felt like something was terribly wrong for at least an hour just because he’d had to take an alternate route to school (routine disruption), why was such a picky eater (finickiness caused by sensitivity to textures and certain flavors/smells), why people always responded with confusion whenever they saw him pepper the science teacher with question after question, challenge after challenge like he was trying to understand how the universe wove itself in the span of five minutes, and looked surprised when Roman asked him if he knew why Patton was being quiet. Logan had responded with a simple no, informing the other that Patton hadn’t told him-and when the slightly taller boy had suggested that he ask, Logan realized the thought had never occurred to him.

Most importantly, it explained what Roman had dubbed ‘The Fitness Fiasco’. To sum it up, Logan had thought of a new game for their groups to play in gym class—something besides basketball for once in their lives, and yet as he tried to explain, the girl who seemed to have taken charge of the group he was trying to explain the idea to kept talking over him, ignoring him, challenging what he said—and the noise. The noise, how all the chattering and the sound of balls bouncing on the floor, the rage he felt at being slighted in this way, how it had attacked him. How he’d suddenly found himself tensing, wanting to run or to yell, unsure which, how the sound turned solid and pressed in-his muscles going taut, his hands twitching with every word from the students mouths,  how his arm violently jerked away as Patton tried to comfort him- And then the scream. He’d screamed at the top of his lungs for quiet, falling to the ground and sobbing in the fetal position—eyes screwed shut behind his glasses and hands clamped tight to his ears, unsure of what was even falling from his mouth aside from the fact that he was begging, begging for silence. It had only quieted a bit as people turned to stare, and then he’d felt hands on his shoulders, ones he jerked away from—but no one knew what to do. Virgil’s low whispers for him to breathe, to use the 4-7-8 method that the emo always used to calm his own panic attacks, was only met with more incoherent begging for silence. It had been Patton who rescued him, who brought the teacher over and ended up guiding the sobbing Logan to an empty classroom. There he had been met with silence. There he felt his terrified bawling turn to weeping with relief. In the silence, he’d recovered, his muscles lost the tension, and he allowed the freckled boy to wrap him in a hug.

He’d only been able to call it a panic attack before. But now he knew the term. Sensory overload, brought on my the noise and the stress.

It had been a relief just to know that. To know that in moments when he stood among too many people, feeling his muscles clench as their shoulders brushed his, that his hands should not go out to push them away, but to his ears, to block out the trigger.

It became a cue, when debates with Roman got heated—they were friends after all, if rivals as well, and it was understood that if Logan’s jaw suddenly clenched and his hands went up to cover his ears, they had to pause for at least a minute.

But of course, knowing where the holes in his social skills were led to Logan compensating, and it didn’t..always feel natural. He found himself staring at people, trying to read their faces, for a little too long on many an occasion, or overreacting to something because he’d overanalyzed the tone. He found himself having to bite his tongue on many an occasion to keep himself from simply explaining why he did what he did to his parents, who would only take it as making excuses.

It was a balance of the good, the bad, and the ugly. He understood now that his all-or-nothing attitude was why he found himself simply not doing projects if he couldn’t grasp the material—and this led to him having to more often than not, swallow his pride and ask for help when he was getting frustrated. Yet the same black-and-white philosophy got him gasps of shock from Roman when he explained that, in the story Roman had been iterating to him, the whole second half of the plot could have been avoided if Leealli had simply decapitated Sorcerer Kai while they were trapped in her dungeon. Roman had protested, saying it would make her just as terrible as they, but Logan had frowned, explaining that yes, the act was cruel, but if a single act of evil by her direct hand was all it took to stop countless others by her indirect hand, wasn’t it worth it?

But he had also been the one to convince Patton not to remain friends with Oliver, when one day, sitting on the cotton candy clouds that patterned Patton’s quilt, the smaller boy had confided in him that Oliver had vented about his habits of self-harm to the kind soul for three hours the night previous, yet refused any help Patton gave, shot down any attempt at saying he was worth more than he thought.

It was Logan who had took Patton’s hand and told him that people like that could only be helped by themselves and a therapist, that he should not take it upon himself to bear others’ problems in that way. Who had given him a hesitant hug and told him that his mental health was just as important as theirs.

His friends were his lifeline. Maybe they tripped him up—well, they definitely did, yet as much as he found himself apologizing to Virgil for seeming angry when he was simply tired and being a bit blunter and more insensitive with his words than usual (not that he usually was tactful or sensitive when it came to criticism, even constructive criticism) he found himself sighing in relief as the anxious boy shared with him his own experiences in worrying about the negative undertones in the words of others too much to be considered healthy. They would sit and talk about it, the same experience for two different reasons, one of them due to the irrational fear of people disliking him or being angry, and the other due to worrying he was doing something incorrectly that he was not aware of, failing to pick up on a crucial piece of information.

As much as Logan found himself and Roman butting heads, even shouting at each other during friendly debates gone sour, name-calling and snapping fault after fault, he reflected fondly on the time he had been ecstatic to discover that Roman’s own ADHD-riddled brain hyperfixated on Disney just as his own did on Sherlock, and they would both go on for hours about their obsessions while sadly recalling how old interests had faded.

As much as he often found himself hurting Patton unintentionally, and even worse, learning that Patton had been hiding that fact from him for weeks as to spare his feelings, as difficult as it was to convince (well, more plead with) Patton to tell him these things, as he wouldn’t be offended much and he had no other way of knowing what he was doing wrong, he found himself sitting by his side, all attention completely fixated on what to him were mindblowing truths about people and yet seemed common, boring knowledge to Patton, as the freckled boy explained cues and rules, that invisible language Logan did not speak.

Those friends stuck by him, even though others did not. With all the walls Logan had built up around his emotions, to protect himself and others, few could breach the fortifications—except for those who had already been on the inside as he built them. And he was fine with that.

Going to a therapist was...awkward at first, but it helped. Mr. Picani understood his aversion to talking of his feelings, and instead cleverly tricked him every time, asking questions about events until Logan was off on an angry rant. With that expelled, they’d talk through possible solutions.

He kept the book. And most of the other books he was given on the topic, eager to learn and understand more things about himself, knowing the reasons behind behaviors, quirks in things had always been one of his favorite things, and now he found it was possible in people.

As Logan worked through his discovery during the last semester of eighth grade and through that summer, with his Virgil, Patton, Roman, his parents, Mr. Picani, and occasionally even his rainbow-haired little sister, he found his mind shifting. He was truly calm now more often than not, able to express his rationale...well, rationally, rather than through insults. His debates grew calmer, and while he certainly had his slip-ups..he was improving. Slowly. Steadily.

His viewpoint of the world was unusual, like an outsider, and while that could be isolating, if he explained it well, people were often interested to hear it. It was different, his own; the metaphor Logan found himself using was that everyone else was a Macintosh computer, and he and his fellow spectrumites were PCs, capable of all the same things, though in ways the world was not wired to accommodate. Also, clearly superior in many a way.

His core programming was different, even if his exterior seemed the same, and Logan was okay with that. He’d never know the invisible language, not as a native would, but he could learn it—the same way he learned slang, through help, a lot of online research, his friends, and some study notes here and there.

It was complicated, they way he figured things out, the systems he’d devised. But complicated problems would never be solved with simple solutions.

And he still had plenty of time left to learn.

(Thanks to @poisonedapples for betaing this and basically screaming RELATABLE every two second, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear!)

(...I don’t really have a general fic taglist so imma just- y e a here)

Tags: @royallyanxious @whatwashernameagain @sandersmarvel @the-incedible-sulk @supremestoverlord @hanramz-the-fander @childhood-wishes-and-dreams @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @madly-handsome @galaxy-warping @extremist-water-agenda @ierindoodles @princeanxious

[makoskies]

character analysis

* Disclaimer: This is based off of a lot of my own headcanons of Zack and canon divergent verses where he lives post-game. Also, this is just a really long post. Proceed with caution.

tagged by: @culturedconjurer​ THANK U FOR TAGGING ME IN THIS this was a lot of fun!!!! tagging: @sweettifalockhart​ @gunsandpuppies​ @nymphatragicae​ @officiums​ AND WHOEVER ELSE WANTS TO DO IT!! INDULGE ME!!!! LET ME READ ALL UR HEADCANONS ABOUT UR CHARACTER(S)!!!!!!!

GENERAL.

full name.  Zack Fair pronunciation. zæk fɛər nicknames. Puppy, Pup; best not to call him this unless you’re Angeal or someone else that’s close to him.  height. 190 cm / 6′3″ age. 16-26, verse-dependent zodiac. Rat (1984) languages. The nebulous canon/common language of the FF universe...

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour.  Black eye colour. Mako blue-green skin tone.  I headcanon him closer to a tan like his Crisis Core overworld sprite, in comparison to his HD renders. body type. Mesomorph accent.  Not exactly sure how I would want it to sound, but he has a kind of country twang from his village of Gongaga in which he sometimes slurs his words and uses some interesting contractions. After a few minutes of speaking to him, you can definitely tell he’s a country boy. dominant hand.  Right. Being part of SOLDIER though, Zack was trained to be proficient with his left as well. posture.  He has pretty good posture, especially good during combat, but when he’s in a casual setting he does let loose. More often than not, he’s bounding with energy, even to the point of nervous energy, and speaks with lots of body movement. scars. The telltale X-shaped scar on his left cheek and various ones all over his body from combat. tattoos.  Sticking true to my brand, I’d really like for him to have one on his back... maybe a combination of angel wings, flowers, wolves... [vague hand gestures.] It would be a combination of things that represent his closest friends. most noticeable features.  Definitely the Mako eyes and the fact that he just can’t seem to sit still for more than five minutes. You can almost see his eyes glow brighter when he’s physically stimulated as if they’re trying to release the overflowing energy in his body.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth.  Gongaga in FFVII-verse; Radiant Garden in KH-verse hometown.  Same as birthplace. birth weight / height.  He was probably a smaller baby who ended up going through some crazy growth spurt in his teenage years. manner of birth.  A normal birth, nothing exciting. His mom probably gave birth to him in their home in Gongaga with the help of a midwife. first words. Probably something like.. “Go!” siblings.  None. parents. Both alive, at least until the Reactor nearby is blown up by AVALANCHE. The explosion kills both his parents in the process. This is something I really want to explore with AVALANCHE roleplayers because it’s one of the few times Zack would be full of sheer anger. parental involvement.  He was definitely pretty close to them, writing back to them while he was enlisted in SOLDIER whenever he could. Zack’s parents also ask about him when the party visits Gongaga in FFVII. They definitely love him but they let him do his own thing, not like they could really stop him even if they wanted to.

ADULT LIFE

occupation.  Timeline and verse dependent. SOLDIER 2nd class to 1st class in FFVII-verse, helps out with the Strife Delivery Service post FFVII; Radiant Garden Restoration Committee in KH-verse current residence. Timeline and verse dependent. Gongaga pre-FFVII:CC, Midgar FFVII:CC-FFVII, Edge post-FFVII. Olympus Coliseum KH:BBS, Radiant Garden KHII-III. close friends. Verse dependent. Angeal, Cloud, Aerith, Tseng, and Cissnei in FFVII:CC (we must also remember Kunsel!), the whole main party in FFVII. The Radiant Garden Restoration Committee and the Wayfinder Trio in KH. relationship status. In my headcanon, he’s in a really happy poly-relationship with Aerith, Cloud, and Tifa. But in terms of this blog, it’s verse dependent. financial status.  Probably pretty well off. Still not as good as the Turks though. driver’s license. He definitely should have one as SOLDIER. criminal record. ... Ambiguous after he escaped from Hojo’s lab, at least according to Shinra. 

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation.  Bisexual romantic orientation. Biromantic preferred emotional role.  submissive  |  dominant  |  switch  |  unsure preferred sexual role.  submissive  |  dominant  |  switch  |  sex repulsed libido. Average to high turn on’s. Zack is a very tactile person, so making out and general intimate touches for sure, ranging anywhere from like gentle kisses to more NSFW behavior. He’s the type to initiate these touches, sometimes in public if his partner is into that, and delights in his their reactions. Dirty talk and teasing is also high on this list because of those reactions ESPECIALLY DURING COMBAT. Honestly, he’s pretty easily turned on but he’s only intimate with people he really loves. turn off’s.  Any.. extreme kinks.. I don’t think he would be into things like degradation at all. People who are insincere or needlessly mean. love language.  P H Y S I C A L T O U C H and words of affirmation as a secondary. Like for example, how does Aerith comfort him after Angeal’s death? She hugs him, and he responds by leaning back into her. He doesn’t talk, doesn’t make a sound past his cries, but he lets her know what he needs by returning her touch. Even in his own death scene, he can barely move, but he pulls Cloud close to him, the closest thing to a hug he can muster, like he’s trying to show Cloud how important it is that he continue to live and to chase his dreams. I feel like physical touch is so important to him because sometimes.. sometimes there are things that he can’t put into words, not to the extent that he feels them. He wants people to feel how he does, and what better what to do that than through touch? relationship tendencies.  He is admittedly a little bit of a flirt, but only if he’s not currently committed to someone. It’s not because he’s a player or a heartbreaker or finicky. No, it’s more like he just sees the good in everyone and sees a lot of people as deserving and worth loving. Over time though, as he gets to know someone more, he’ll figure out if he actually wants to be committed to that person. He’s likely to be the first to confess and ask someone out once he’s interested. Once he’s committed, holy hell you will find no one more loyal. HE WOULD LITERALLY DIE FOR HIS PARTNER(S) OKAY!

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. "The Price of Freedom” from the Crisis Core OST, of course. If I had to choose a theme song though... Like Not To Be Me (TM), but I think a good theme song for him would be “Bishops Knife Trick” by Fall Out Boy.  “I got a feeling inside that I can’t domesticate/ It doesn’t wanna live in a cage/ A feeling that I can’t housebreak.” I feel like this lyric just really captures Zack’s... almost desperation to accomplish the goals he’s set for himself in life. He’s a little reckless, a little headstrong, and his impulses can get the better of him, but that’s just who he is. “And I’m yours/ ‘Til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away/ I’m struggling to exist with you and without you.” And of course, he’s fiercely loyal to the people he loves—even when they test his morals and understanding of the world, like Angeal. He struggles to understand Angeal’s view of the world, of himself, but no matter how difficult it is, he just keeps trying because he loves him. hobbies to pass the time. SQUATS ALL DAY EVERYDAY BAYBEE. Definitely exercise and sports. He’s also really handy, as can be seen when he crafts that little flower cart for Aerith. He probably just ends up making a lot of things for his loved ones to make their life easier: a flower cart for Aerith, armor for Cloud. He also would very much absorb the hobbies of his loved ones, like Aerith’s gardening. mental illnesses. After all the shit that goes down in Crisis Core, I think he would have some form of PTSD. He wouldn’t do well with loud, sharp sounds—too reminiscent of the sound of bullets. He would also probably have night terrors. To be honest though, I’m probably going to stay away from writing things like this because I’m just not educated enough in it. physical illnesses.  None really, though he may be a little screwed up because of the intense exposure to Mako during Hojo’s experiments. left or right brained. Right. He’s much more inclined to follow impulse and instinct. He definitely trusts more in what he feels than just the cold hard facts. fears. His loved ones being in danger and not being able to do anything about it. Maybe worse than that though would be having his loved ones be in danger, being able to protect them, but failing at it. His whole mantra is that he wants to become a hero, he wants to save other people from danger. For him to fail at that, at the cost of the people he personally loves, that would just destroy him. self confidence level.  I would say that Zack is more self-confident than the average person—that just naturally comes with his ambition—but it comes with moments of extreme self-doubt. Despite his appearance, he can be awfully introspective, especially in the face of failure. During these times, it’s more of his ego that pushes him along (I’m a Second Class SOLDIER, of course I can do these things. I’m strong and outdid most of my colleagues during training, etc.) until he kind of restores that genuine confidence. vulnerabilities. Zack is forgiving and empathetic to a fault. Like I mentioned earlier, he always sees the good in people even when, in my opinion at least, they’re beyond saving. If someone played the long game with him, convinced him that they were this good, redeemable person, they would very much be able to get him on their side. Zack is by no means unintelligent so he would of course see through like poor attempts at deception, and it’s not like he would just mindlessly do something because someone told him to... but if someone played the game right, the potential to manipulate him is very much there. And also, because he’s so empathetic, that forces him into a lot of tough situations where he has to make a decision as to what is right and wrong, what he should and should not tolerate. Even if the decision might be obvious, it doesn’t mean it’s an easy one to make.

[violentnonretirement]

About Bastet: Jack

I’m doing multiple posts to kind of separate out things. This one will be about Jack, there will be one about Ana, and then one about the general Lore.

So keep in mind this is just about Jack, since the short story was equally about both and I literally have way too much to talk about with Ana to fit them both here while still being at all readable.

I’m just going to go through chronologically. Also under the cut because it’s... It’s a lot. Ana’s might end up longer, though.

“ As she took a closer look, she could see that the jacket and his flesh had been ripped apart by a shotgun blast. From that range, it should have killed him, but Jack had certain advantages. His wounds could heal themselves—a legacy of his past as a test subject and an enhanced soldier...“

First of all, we can finally do away with the ‘Gabe wasn’t trying to kill Jack’ theories because he absolutely was. Also, referring to Jack (and by extension Gabe) as test subjects says a lot about the nature of the SEP. Not an exact process, not a 100% smoothed out deal. Jack and Gabe were test subjects.

Jack’s got a crazy good healing factor. Like. We learn later the bullets from Reaper have a necrotic agent of some sort that’s trying to keep him from healing and his body is still pushing through to heal the wound literally minutes after the attack, also aided by Ana’s dart.

“ His genetic enhancements should have helped him acclimatize to different conditions, the same way they should have stopped the blood that was seeping through the shirt he’d tied across his midsection as a bandage. “

First of all, “genetic enhancements”. Second, Jack is able to acclimate to different weather very easily.

ALSO

How many times has Ana bailed his dumbass out of danger???

“ ...He made a face at the bitterness. “Any sugar?” “ “ ....“You’re a kitten, Jack,” Ana laughed. “

THIS IS FUCKING CUTE COME AT ME. I got that hc wrong Jack apparently likes sweet things if tea is too bitter for him. Fucking adorable you big punkass  funky boy.

Tangent here to talk about their banter? Like it’s so... honest? Like it’s just “these are two extremely close people who still have the fun sarcasm and are easily filling back into the role of close friends despite everything that’s happened”. It’s genuinely entertaining and I had a lot of fun reading the back and forth because it’s just fun and snarky and both have so much life to their replies. And it shows they know each other to the point that Ana knows Jack well enough that she literally drugs him because she knows he’s about to be a dumbass the minute he wakes up.

Also, proof that no one but the three of them and by extension Talon know Jack and Ana and Gabe are alive.

Jack took a trip to New York with his mother and loved the Egyptian museum as ‘his favorite part’, so that’s rly cute.

“ “We tried to find you,” Jack said somberly. “I used every resource at my disposal. Gabe even put McCree on it personally. Not a trace. Everyone else tried to convince me you were gone and that I was being irrational. But deep down I knew that you couldn’t be dead.” “

“...It turns out we couldn’t do it without you,”

“.... Don’t let this go. Don’t be like the others. They dismantled everything we spent our lives building, and then they made us into villains.”

“ “... You never were good at letting go,” Ana chided him. “Too stubborn for your own good.” “

Fucking. One of my big headcanons confirmed. That Jack and Gabe did everything in in their power to find Ana, and that Jack did not give up. If there’s something to be learned about his character from this it’s that Jack is a deeply emotional and very unforgiving character. He remembers, and he holds grudges like a motherfucker.

Even after the years, Jack was in Cairo because he believed Ana was alive and he wanted to find her.

Jack says he’s moving on and his quest is moving on but I don’t think Jack can let things go. Period. He couldn’t let go of Ana, Overwatch- his in-game lines “I’ve got a long memory”. Jack does not forget, and again, he holds grudges like a motherfucker. 

She was thought to be dead for years and yet Jack held out hope the entire time, all the way up to chasing her down in Egypt after hearing there was a vigilante there and hoping it was her. If we’re looking at canon Jack, canon Jack loves Ana deeply. She is an important person to him. Just like he loved Gabriel.

Which brings me to a big point. Jack is an angry, frustrated figure but he feels deeply. He feels so deeply for the people he’s with. Ana, Gabe, those people are so fucking important to him that the issue of Ana’s unknown fate, plus the (still only theorized) ‘betrayal’ from Gabriel, two people who were so important to him, turning to anger and vengeance would feel like the only option for him.

“ Ana read the desperation on Jack’s face. “Getting revenge for what happened won’t accomplish anything other than getting you killed.” “Maybe, but I still have to fight. Everyone else gave up, but not me.” “

This is the core of my style of characterization. If Jack lets this fight go- against Talon and Hakim and Los Muertos- he has nothing left. Jack was a soldier for the majority of his life. We know he enlisted around 18 and fought in the crisis, and led Overwatch, all adding up to about 30 years of “fighting the good fight” and something like 6 of fighting it from the shadows. At this point, giving up that fight would force him into an identity crisis, and I don’t think Jack wants to face that, so he just puts up walls against forming new bonds, and considers that, yes, he may die, but he wants to do what’s right. (it’s not healthy. There are so many times when Jack is wrong, etc, and he’ll fight you tooth and nail because he’s a stubborn jackass but he’s not a mentally healthy person)

This also supports my hc that Jack kind of blamed everyone. In that anger, Jack considered everyone at fault, and then sat on that anger and pain for years as he tried to find out what happened. He saw people either get to return to normal life, be forced into mercenary situations, or worse, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it- just try to find out what caused it and expose the people who ruined his life.

“ “Cairo and the world will suffer until we bring them all down! You have to see the bigger picture,” Jack said heatedly. “Are you even hearing yourself? You would never have made this argument before,” Ana said disapprovingly. “The way we do things matters.” “

Jack was the man who believed in saving everyone and Gabe was the bigger picture person, I think. I think Gabe did the dirty work no one else wanted because he saw what needed to be done and got it done for the greater good, even if that meant sometimes morally wrong choices in the moment. Now, Jack sees Hakim and Cairo, he sees the wrongness there and he doesn’t want to get involved because he knows Talon is Hakim’s benefactor and taking out Talon is the only true way to get rid of Hakim.

And we see that as much as he loves Ana, he is still angry and lashes out. He sees the world through a selfish view. He sees it as ‘this needs to get done and I don’t know why you don’t see it my way’ but Ana sees Cairo as she has for the time she’s been gone. Egypt is her home, she can’t see it rot under Hakim. This is her mission.

It was the sort of problem that was never Jack’s strong suit. He preferred two sides, concrete facts, and one clear, unequivocal decision.

In messy situations, Jack finds an answer, and he goes with it. And in a time when almost all his decisions are ‘messy’, Jack often has the moments between Los Muertos escaping and the grenade at Alejandra’s feet. There is what’s important now, and what’s important for the future. Deciding that Alejandra was the most important then, and then agreeing to help with Hakim, Jack is being forced to do what’s right again, and it causes him to fight against the personas of Soldier: 76 and of Strike-Commander. We hear SO much that Jack is stubborn, stubborn, stubborn, but he relents to Ana. He comes back after storming off and helps Ana take down Hakim. Hakim is the grenade at Alejandra’s feet- he cannot ignore his conscience, and here, he also knows he cannot do this without Ana.

“ He had gotten one good night’s sleep since he arrived in Cairo, and it was the first in as long as he could remember “ ...He was uneasy now. Staying in one place for too long was risky, especially now that Gabe would be looking for him. He had to move on.

Also going along with the “Jack just doesn’t stop” vein of characterization. Jack can’t stop. Especially now that Talon is very aware of his presence and that he’s coming after them.

“That’s why it’s a great photo!” laughed Jack.

cute.

So let’s get into Vincent.

Jack is gay, as confirmed by Chu. I have my issues with this reveal like I did with the Christmas comic and Tracer’s reveal. The romantic partner characters are not really, full characters. They’re stand-ins, and they’re not given a whole lot before they’re buried in the story again, but they do their job. Lena is a lesbian, and Jack is gay. This in itself makes me so happy. Because here, in this whole update, we are given a Manly Man’s Man in Jack- except that we learn he’s a deeply emotional man, struggling with trauma and mental health issues, and is so far from the picture so many people might have of a gay man. Like Lena, he isn’t defined by his sexuality, it’s just a part of him. Which is what we want. Yes, again, I have my issues with the reveal, but in the end, and if I’m deeply honest with myself, I’m happy that two mainstay characters in this game are irreversibly, wholly, completely confirmed inside and out as SAGA, and I’m happy that Jack is given that identity as someone who was open about it. Ana apparently knew Vincent well enough that she recognizes him from an old photo.

But in that vein, we get the fact that they’re separated, and that once upon a time Jack “I’ll never stop fighting” Morrison wanted to settle down in the quiet life with his then-boyfriend, and openly talked about that, at least with Ana if not others. Again, we’re given the image that Jack as a younger man was a very openly emotional, connected, and caring figure. Someone who loved the people he was close to dearly and showed that.

“At least you and Gabe managed to have families.”

Another one of those hcs I’m ding-ding at, Jack did not really engage in relationships as Strike-Commander. Whether or not he tried we don’t know, but he didn’t ‘manage’ to have a family, or connections beyond platonic love for people like Ana, and Gabe, and likely others. But it also ties into that resentment and anger he’s been nursing for so long. It’s not a kind remark. Not mean or hateful, just, kind of unnecessary.

“I just thought my mask was scary.” Jack smiled.

What a fucking dork.

In all. I’m happy. I’m so happy to see Jack confirmed as gay, I’d love to know more about Vincent, I’d love to see where this all goes, and I love that we have a continuation, more lore for Ana, and more personality for both of them- seeing these softer sides of the ghosts.

That being said, I’m happy with the s76 lore we have. I love him, he’s my dude, but we need lore on literally anyone else. I would be happy if their story was either on pause for the next however long or working in the background while other characters got their stories and their time in the spotlight. I want to see Zen, Lucio, Zarya, the Junkers. They need to be fleshed out. They need to be fully realized.

[ko-shichi]

what's your opinion on the latest bsd chapter ?

A warning. This is going to be a fairly long opinion post. I have a lot of feels and opinions on it. This is also HUGE in spoilers. 

Chapter Highlights: 1. HOLY SHIT CHUUYA IS BACK AND HE IS THROWING BULLETS. I LOVE HIM SO FUCKING MUCH MY BOYFRIEND. You’re so amazing and beautiful and I fucking LOVE YOU CHUUYA. Being able to fling bullets is so beautiful, even if the science doesn’t exactly back your Ability as much as one would like. You are also the king of entrances. Like baby, they not only gotta catch your hands, but they gotta catch your bullets too. OH WAIT THEY CAN’T, BECAUSE YOU ARE A GOD. 2. The fact that Chuuya and Yosano appeared in the same chapter again under circumstances like those (with the exchange) really backs a ChuuSano headcanon I have (I will speak about that later).3. KuniChuuZai is now an OTP of mine. Like Chuuya looked as though he held so much respect for Kunikida when he saw him? KuniChuu fuel?  And most people know I am also a Soukoku fan and a KunikiDazai fan. If you take my fics as anything. KuniChuuZai has always been a favourite of mine, because in one way, shape, or form, they all come across as compatible. It also is a huge angst party, seeing as Chuuya is Dazai’s past, Kunikida is Dazai’s present, and Chuuya is collectively their enemy. 4. Finally, I am bringing up the exchange once again. I find this super, super fascinating and I can’t wait to know the outcome. I have a few ideas, rest assured, and I will get to them.OVERALL OPINION.I absolutely loved this chapter and everything about it. From Chuuya returning to Kunikida getting his morals bashed by Jouno, essentially, when it comes to saying Tecchou should cut Yosano’s head off, to Kunikida jumping in to sacrifice himself for the entirety of the ADA, even stating that he was well aware it was essentially an act of suicide.I have to hand it to Asagiri, however, about planting Chuuya in as a supposed hero when in actuality Kunikida ended up being the true hero of the chapter, and arguably of the past few chapters. We all have to admit, Kunikida has recently had it very rough. His ideals have never been more evident in the series than the past maybe 10 chapters. It has been challenge after challenge for him, and quite honestly, while I much enjoy conflict in a manga, I do believe he needs a break. And rest assured, to those who read this and maybe got concerned about the turn of events with Kunikida, he is not dead. Asagiri isn’t necessarily the best writer, but he isn’t all about that life. Kunikida would not die in something as mundane as self-sacrifice. And Asagiri would pass up an entire opportunity to put Kunikida into despair if Yosano were lost. Or rather, even this entire situation has already tossed him up in the air. After this event, if Kunikida lives, which he will, he’s going to go through a midlife crisis. 

Remember, just remember, Kunikida has a tendency to blame himself if anything goes wrong on his watch, and Kunikida is the type of person to take the entirety of the blame and be immensely hard on himself. That’s part of his life as someone with strict morals such as his. There is no way Asagiri would kill Kunikida. Especially with Chuuya and Yosano being there, Yosano, if she goes down at the right time (which she could, with Chuuya’s help) she could save herself, Kunikida, and if any damage were done to Chuuya, him too.

The Trade

I believe the trade is of the utmost importance to the plot, in some way, shape or form. I believe that there are three primary choices for who would be chosen (I would assume by the Port Mafia and Mori himself because he would not pass up any chance of no success in this trade by letting the Armed Detective Agency decide) : Yosano Akiko, Kunikida Doppo and Dazai Osamu.

I will provide explanations.Yosano Akiko(Most Likely): Yosano has a very prime Ability, one Mori would most certainly desire. Being able to heal people while on the field would give Mori the upper hand when facing many of his greater enemies, this counts for the Port Mafia by default. She also has acquired the title, “Angel of Death”, despite us having little to no knowledge of what that means. Yosano also has a past with the Military and therefore has some sort of offensive (I’m assuming) experience in combat. Not like Kouyou or Chuuya, but certainly enough to get by. If Yosano’s past with Mori has shown her love for life, it would give a disadvantage for Yosano, because he would know just how desperate Yosano would be to heal individuals. Yosano would have no hesitation, most likely, to go if it meant the Agency would be helped, if only temporarily, and would be loyal if the conditions were met to help the Agency.

Kunikida Doppo(Third Most Likely): This chapter in itself has been a very prevalent example of how Kunikida would sacrifice himself for the good of the Agency. He wouldn’t kill anyone, though, but his selflessness is very much something to note. One thing that makes this a challenge, though, is if his morals are broken, if he isn’t able to save people, will he die? Will he turn out like Oda? Many people make references to how they are similar, and I can see it too. Mafiosi who wouldn’t kill. But, it is to be noted, that Oda broke, and killed. Who is to say that Kunikida won’t do the same if something happens to ruin his ideals? If something causes him to break more than he already has? Kunikida, despite having many emotions, can be ruthless if need be. Another reference to Oda that you could use to justify this would be the fact that Kunikida is very close to Dazai as far as the Agency is concerned. And we all remember what happened when Mori knew how close he was to Oda. If Mori wants to break Dazai back into being with him in the Mafia, Kunikida is arguably the way to go about it. If Mori knew this, he would probably also have plans to eventually get Kunikida to die during a mission after he broke. Kunikida would be Dazai’s second Oda. No one can deny the fact that Kunikida has done some wonders for Dazai, had taught him in the Agency, had taught him how to be a better person. And that is something Oda told him to do. Kunikida helped him be on the side that saves people.

Dazai Osamu(Second Most Likely): Mori has dictated that Dazai’s Mafia Executive position is still available for him should he ever decide to go back. Mori would choose Dazai because Dazai has a mind as similar to his, built to manipulate and control. Of course, Dazai has learned that there is more to life than that, that life is actually slightly worth living. Though, despite probably not belonging in the Mafia anymore, having done too much good, having learned how to be a decent person, when given the opportunity to choose whether or not one should experience a life like that, he would say no. He wouldn’t want someone as idealistic as Kunikida, someone as young and almost naïve as Atsushi, one who cherishes life like Yosano, to experience what life in the Port Mafia would be like. He would most certainly figure that he would be saving a lot more people if he sacrificed himself in this. Dazai wouldn’t admit that the Port Mafia destroyed him, probably destroyed most of his opinion on life. He was empty at that point in his life. He may not want to subject himself to it again, but he would rather do that than let anyone else experience it.HONOURABLE MENTION: ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA: It is entirely possible that Atsushi, with his ability being so strong, that he would be chosen by Mori to join the Mafia. It would be good in terms of plot development, but I also think that Dazai himself wouldn’t allow that. Akutagawa wouldn’t necessarily be fond of the idea either, given how much they ‘hate’ each other. As the main character, it also wouldn’t surprise me if he were chosen to join the mafia because that’s the life of a protagonist.Now, I am going to focus on RELATIONSHIPS:Dazai Osamu and Kunikida Doppo, Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya, Yosano Akiko and Nakahara Chuuya, and Yosano Akiko and Kunikida Doppo.               

Kunikida Doppo and Dazai Osamu: An important thing to note, is that should Kunikida die at the end of this chapter, what would that do to Dazai? As aforementioned. It would send Dazai into an unspeakable pit. He would be full of despair. Dazai isn’t one to really acknowledge guilt when it comes to him, but I do think it’s plausible for Dazai to feel guilty if something happened to his partner. I think it would send him into a rut because Dazai is aware Kunikida probably trusts him with his fucking life.When it comes to the trade, it takes little to no knowledge of Kunikida to understand that should Dazai ever rejoin the Port Mafia, even in the situation like this, that he would certainly disapprove of it, he would try to convince Dazai not to. Kunikida may not have considerate knowledge (personally I don’t believe anyone other than Oda, Mori, Ranpo, and possibly Ango would) of what royally fucked with Dazai’s life, and what the Mafia had done to him. So, it is a given that Kunikida wouldn’t want to let Dazai back to that. Despite it all, much like Chuuya, Kunikida does care about Dazai and his wellbeing, even if he believes that Dazai’s suicidal antics are a façade. Nakahara Chuuya and Dazai Osamu: Now, Chuuya, he isn’t a given.  We don’t exactly have knowledge about how much Chuuya knows about what the Port Mafia and being a ploy of Mori’s did to Dazai. Of course, Chuuya would have an opinion, but we don’t know what Chuuya knows. It was shown that they knew each other quite well as partners, but that doesn’t mean anything, either. We don’t know if Chuuya was aware. And I am not going to stereotype it and be one of those people who will say that he’d be definitely okay, or definitely not, though I lean more toward not. I think it depends. Regardless, Chuuya has shown genuine care for Dazai’s wellbeing, so basing it on the fact that Dazai fucked up their partnership is not reliable. If Chuuya was aware, even to a small extent, I don’t think Chuuya would be okay with it. I believe that Chuuya would rather Dazai not go back to that state of mind. We don’t know if Chuuya is also aware of how much Dazai has changed, that he has found more of a reason to live, but if he has, he wouldn’t wish the worst on Dazai.Conversely, if Chuuya wasn’t aware, I think it would settle more on Chuuya’s perception of self. I said that I wouldn’t bring their betrayal out in this, but it is undeniable that Chuuya is in some way still hurt. Being over something doesn’t mean you aren’t affected by it, still. Chuuya doesn’t perceive them as partners anymore, that much is for certain. No one could blame him for that. It depends on the person; if you are one of those individuals who thinks that Chuuya can’t live without Dazai, then sure, you can go and say that Chuuya would prefer to have Dazai by his side. I’m one of those people who doesn’t necessarily believe that. Because they’re Soukoku, they get under each other’s skin. That’s what they do. It would be easier to do that when they are together. And Chuuya probably did like that. This one is really iffy. I don’t think he would want Dazai to come back to the Mafia, though. EDIT: My friend brought up an interesting point about the plot of Dead Apple, where it was very evident that Chuuya has a lot of faith in Dazai, like that Dazai wasn’t truly on the side of Shibusawa and Fyodor.

Yosano Akiko and Nakahara Chuuya: Now, I have a lot more to say about that, but I want to focus on the opinion I have on how Chuuya and Yosano met, and it wasn’t in the underground in the Guild Arc. We all know that Yosano has connections with Mori and that she used to work in the military as well. It wouldn’t have shown it, but my personal headcanon is that one time, ONE TIME, Chuuya was healed by Yosano from Corruption’s damage before the Armed Detective Agency was formed, and was sworn to secrecy by Mori, who had probably paid her. At that time, Chuuya had probably been out of it in one way or another and was to leave right before he woke up. Though, I imagine, when she is offered the chance to heal someone, given the fact that she really does treasure life. One thing I do wonder, is did Yosano have control of her Ability before the Agency? She probably did, or else, the “Angel of Death” would have not been employed by the military. If she did not have control, maybe she just healed anyone within her vicinity on the brink of death. But, that is why I doubt it. This chapter could have been a lot of shock to Yosano, seeing Chuuya once again. Yosano doesn’t seem like the type to lie, rather seems very blunt when she opens her mouth, so to withhold information, like the fact that she was hired to save and heal Chuuya, and act as if she doesn’t know him, probably did more numbers on Yosano than she would like to admit. I believe if Chuuya suggested for them to save Kunikida, she would agree and go along with it.

Off topic: The two probably find each other really pretty. They would most definitely be drink buddies and Chuuya would take Yosano out shopping.EDIT: Yosano worked in the military, and Chuuya was ‘made’ and ‘experimented on’ in the Military, presumably during the Ability War. So perhaps there is connection to that in them as well. It is a possibility, and this is only to be noted, that Yosano could also have an artifical Ability like Chuuya? Or something of the sort? That is something we can’t say for certain, though.

Yosano Akiko and Kunikida Doppo: This is my very last topic, but I want to shed some light. Kunikida, Ranpo, and Yosano were the first ones (other than Fukuzawa) to join the agency. Yosano kind of views Kunikida as her little brother. She most certainly wants to protect Kunikida no matter the cost, and I think that is going to put her in a situation that could get her killed. I also think that between the two of them (Dad and Mom of the Agency), they would try to prevent any other member of the Agency younger than them, say, Atsushi, Tanizaki, Kyouka, or Kenji from being subjected to the life of the Port Mafia. Yosano and Kunikida are shown to be quite close as well, and they look after each other. They also have familiar morals, so that means they could work well together, and probably would for the sake of the Agency. They also have close bonds with Ranpo. All three of them, but namely Yosano and Kunikida, care most about the success of the Agency.

This was a long post, and this is about what I think about chapter 61.5 of Bungou Stray Dogs.

[destiny-islanders]

Any headcanons for the boys (w/ or w/o Sora) for movie nights?

Remember when I said I was almost done with a headcanon post, but my computer crashed and I lost all of my work?

IT WAS THIS ONE

What fine ingredients has my shitpost lost to the computer crashing and my horrible memory? What memes will never see the light of day because I forgot about them? Who knows…? I’ll try to make this post again. IT’LL BE EVEN BETTER THIS TIME!!!

Gladio

Oh my GOD starting off at this first bullet point AGAIN really sucked the wind from my sails… Really gotta do this all over again, huh?

OKAY DESTINY YOU GOT THIS C’MON

Likes to munch on salty and sweet snacks during the movie. Chocolate-covered pretzels or potato chips, caramel popcorn– those are all winners in Gladio’s book

115% the person who talks during the movie… to point out all of its flaws. (It’s very annoying.)

Gladio: “Yeah, that thing’s fake, no question about it”

Ignis: “Seeing as how it’s an anthropomorphic chicken… I should hope so”

Sora: “I made friends with an anthropomorphic chicken once”

Gladio:

Ignis:

Prompto:

Noctis:

Sora: “He blew things up with rockets. It was frickin’ rad”

Gladio: “Why didn’t [this character] just do [that action]?”

Prompto: “Duh, because then the movie would be over! It’s only been 15 minutes, dude”

Noctis: “Which would be okay with me tbh… this movie lowkey sucks”

Will watch pretty much everything. 

Deeply appreciates action movies and admires the hard work of the stunt team and fight choreographers. 

Likes romance movies, but NOT romantic comedies!

LAUGHS SO HARD AT HORROR MOVIES! DOESN’T MATTER HOW GORY OR GRAPHIC THEY GET!

It kind of scares the guys tbh

One of Those “The Book Was Better” People

Starts out movie night at one end of the couch… but slowly spreads out until he’s hogging all of the space >:O

Ignis

Not much of a snacking guy, but if he ate anything during movie night, it would probably be some manner of baked good

115% the person who falls asleep during the movie… Doesn’t matter how loud the explosions are, doesn’t matter how high-pitched the screams get… this poor guy needs a Nap

Half of the time ends up falling over onto Gladio and sleeping against his shoulder

Ask Prompto for pictures, they’re frickin’ adorable

Ignis does drool in his sleep though so there’s that

Lets the other boys pick the movie

Pays more attention to films as an art form rather than as entertainment

Appreciates creative shots, realistic dialogue, and good scores

LOVES MOVIE SCORES

Even has some video game scores that he picked up after hearing the music waft to the kitchen while he cooked Noctis dinner

WILL NEVER LAUGH AT A MOVIE. LIKE. EVER.

Maybe don’t watch mystery thrillers with Ignis… he will call out who the killer is 10 minutes into the movie and ruin the twist ending…

Probably the best person to share a couch with tbh… he stays in one place pretty much the whole night

Noctis

Give him everything. Popcorn. Candy. Chips and dip. Fresh chocolate chip cookies. He will eat it all

115% the person who gets Way Too Absorbed into the movie… it’s like he blanks out and can only focus on what’s happening on the screen

The Prince of Escapism

CRIES WHEN THE DOG DIES BUT HIDES IT

Please don’t watch documentaries with this kid because the chances are you’ll end up with two sleeping Chocobros on your hands

It is kind of funny to see his reactions to documentaries about the Lucis Caelum family history though hahaha

It is guaranteed that Noctis will put his feet up on Someone before the end of the night… If you’re sitting close to Noct on the couch, don’t be surprised when you become furniture

Prompto

CANDY! GIVE HIM CANDY!

This is a bit of a tangent but Prompto Middle Name Argentum is That Person who wears a poofy hoodie to the movie theaters to hide all of the snacks and drinks.

Gets so nervous about getting caught every time though it’s actually pretty cute

115% the person to get… bored…

You’d think Prompto would be all over superhero movies, right?

NOT SO

Prompto: “Why in the name of the finest Cheeto dust is this movie two hours and ten minutes long”

Noctis: “I guess that’s how long they needed to establish this in the bigger universe and–”

Prompto: “WHY IS IT TWO HOURS AND TEN MINUTES LONG”

Prompto: “Just make them punch each other a couple times and let me go home!!!”

Will usually end up on his phone by the end of the movie

WITH THE SOUND ON

PROMPTO THAT IS SO INCONSIDERATE

CRIES WHEN THE DOG DIES AND DOESN’T HIDE IT

Rushes to update the “Does the Dog Die” website to warn other people about the puppers’ fates in the movies they’re in

Will try to watch the movie instead of reading the book…

Yeah, he never did too well on book reports in school

Likes to bundle up with blankets and sit against the arm of the couch with his legs curled up beside him

Usually the person Noctis ends up using as a footrest

Doesn’t mind it

Sora

Classic popcorn boy, but he enjoys his candy, too. Loves sour gummy worms and chocolate-covered raisins

115% the type who ends up Liking Every Movie

He’s not picky

CRIES THE HARDEST WHEN THE DOG DIES

Sora: “Some of my best friends are dogs and this is just… it just hits too close to home”

Will watch literally anything

LOVES MUSICALS

Want to get Sora a good birthday present? Buy him good seats for a musical at the theater downtown

Also loves animated movies… but that’s probably not a surprise

Restless, fidgety boy usually sits on pillows on the floor with his back against the couch

He’s more comfortable this way

[shalebridge-cradle]

I know you have other prompts so please don’t feel obligated to do this, but what about the ghosts AU where they sit through their graduation? If you do the musical canon, you could even have Ram and Kurt in their class and with them. Thank you for all the writing and headcanon stuff you’ve been posting here! I’ve been meaning to send something in for a while now.

That I can do.

There are four seats meant to be left empty - two with lettermans draped over them, one with a red ribbon, and one with a blue book.

The only people who know the seats aren’t vacant are the ones sitting in them.

Veronica knows how hard Fleming fought for that fourth chair. She doesn’t really get why - maybe she believed there was good in her. That Veronica was just a girl too lovesick to notice what she was doing. As usual, Fleming is wrong. Veronica was just angry and stupid.

Nobody, dead or alive, is listening to Gowan’s introductory speech. Ram and Kurt are elbowing each other and pointing at various students, and Heather has a reassuring hand on Veronica’s thigh.

Gowan hasn’t mentioned them at all. That’s probably for the best. Let it be silent and sophisticated.

“God, they all look so girly in their little dresses,” Kurt says to Ram.

“They’re gowns, dude. They all proved they’re smart, so they get to wear wizard robes.”

Never mind.

“Wizards are nerds. Good thing we don’t have to wear ‘em. I kinda want the jacket, though.”

“Yeah, It’s cold.”

(It’s always cold.)

“Hey, ‘Ronica,” even in death Kurt’s trying to pick her up, “why’d you have to kill us in our briefs? You into that?”

Veronica sighs. “I didn’t know you were gonna die. If I did, I wouldn’t have agreed to the prank in the first place. Assholes you may have been, but you deserved some dignity.”

“You’re still mad about the skid marks, aren’t you?” Ram teases.

“Whatever, dude. I mean, it would have been a killer prank if it went like you said.”

Killer.

“Can you shut up for five minutes?” Chandler snaps, “This is supposed to be a formal event.”

Kurt hangs his head in shame, like a kid getting told off.

(That’s all he was. A dumb kid.)

“Sorry, Heather.”

“You’d better be.”

Veronica rests her head on Heather’s shoulder, a sign of her gratitude. Chandler offers an almost invisible smile in return.

They listen to the valedictorian’s speech, and Veronica’s so proud of Betty Finn for beating out Rodney in the fight for the top spot. The speech she gives is way better than anything he would have come up with, anyway. The guy was only good at taking tests. Betty talks about hope, the future, everything they can do now that they’re free from high school. Every so often, her eyes flick to those four seats in the front row.

Ram leans over, his voice a stage whisper. “Why does she keep looking at us?”

“She can’t see us. She’s talking about leaving high school, so she’s thinking about the ones that don’t get to.”

The former linebacker goes deathly silent, his eyes blank as he looks back up at Betty. As she finishes her address, Ram claps clumsily, like he’s forgotten how.

Then, Ripper.

“Ah, fuck,” Heather mutters.

Veronica’s not sure what it is about the pastor that triggers the effect. Maybe because he’s a holy man, and his mere presence makes ghosts suffer.

“Don’t stick your finger in it, Kurt,” Veronica says as a precaution. He probably won’t listen, but no-one can say she didn’t try.

“If he says anything about ‘the MTV video games’, I’m gonna puke.” Heather’s voice is already growing thick. Veronica hates this. Her temple has already gone ice-cold, and the vision in her left eye is going dark.

Father Ripper speaks of them. Of course he does, the ‘suicides’ have drastically boosted the numbers of his flock. How the dearly departed all supposedly found solace in the arms of the Lord, how, so long as the graduating class follows the straight and narrow path, everyone will find peace their former classmates lacked in their lives.

Bullshit. All of it.

Veronica hates the sensation she has to go through when she’s like this. It’s eerily familiar - like drinking a frozen drink too fast, but only on one side of her head. Hates it, hates it, hates it.

“Don’t cry,” Ram tries to say, his rasping voice accompanied by a faint, tuneless whistling.

Ah, hell. Is she crying? This is the last thing she needs. Salt in the bullet wound.

The hand that was on her thigh rises to her shoulder, pulling Veronica into a one-armed hug.

“He’ll stop with his preaching soon enough,” Heather reassures her, pausing to cough, “you’re okay. It’s okay.”

Ripper finishes with the sort of finality he’s used to by now, and the focus shifts to where it should be - the students who are still left. The pain in Veronica’s head fades a little, and she relaxes as the first students receive their diplomas.

She applauds nearly every student - The Country Club kids are the only exceptions. Kurt whoops and Chandler smiles when Heather McNamara receives her ticket out of this hellhole, and Ram claps politely for Martha and all his past friends (he’s getting the hang of it now).

Soon, it’s all over. Final congratulations are given, and everyone files out. The four are left alone among the empty chairs.

“Feeling a bit better?”

Veronica taps her now-present temple in response to Heather’s question.

“I’m happy for them,” she adds.

“Good. Good.” She pulls Veronica closer, pressing her lips to the top of her girlfriend’s head. “Some of them only passed ‘cause of you.”

“I just took some notes. Most of it was them.”

“You’re more help than you think. Remember that.”

Veronica leans into the embrace, sighing. She can see Kurt and Ram out of the corner of her eye again - apparently, awkward knuckle-punching is the only form of affection they know that cannot be construed as gay.

“Maybe we should do this again next year.”

Heather hums. “Maybe. Might not gets seats, though.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just… It’s a nice feeling, seeing everyone happy and ready to get on with their lives. Ready to grow up and be adults.”

And die. But maybe they’d die happy. That’d be something.

“I guess,” Heather concedes. “We should get going before they pull the chair out from under us.”

They do. All of them. The gym, where everything could have gone so wrong, is silent once more.

[chaotic-theatrical-weaver]

Okay, you are doing this fanbase a great service because no one talks about Elizabeth enough, much less the implication that she’s experiencing postpartum depression and what that means for her character:

All her existing feelings of failing her husband* have been compounded, and now she feels like she’s failing her children as well.

The time period has no reference for what she’s experiencing, so she’s just more confused and isolated.

When she finds out about the affair, she knows on some level she’s worth more than that, but her mind is just too clouded for her to fully realize that, so she blames herself.

I mentioned in my posts on how I’d like to stage this play (definitely go check those out) that it’s implied that the Proctors only hired Abigail, and later Mary, because Elizabeth hasn’t been well. I also mentioned in the same post that in my interpretation, John sees his flaws in Mary and punishes her for them because his guilt brings with it self-loathing. So what does this mean for Elizabeth? She probably feels guilty about the way Mary is treated because if she were well, Mary would not be there to begin with. In addition to my previous bullet point, she blames herself for the affair, so she feels that if she hadn’t failed John so badly, he wouldn’t have done such a thing and wound up carrying his guilt around, trying to transfer it onto someone else. Since she can’t do anything about that anymore, she blames herself for struggling to forgive him because she feels as though she’s only prolonging his guilt and making him more desperate to shift it away. Finally, she knows she should do something about how Mary is treated, but she’s too paralyzed by her guilt about it, which just compounds it further!

Read under the cut to see my mom’s interpretation and my own headcanon that blows her out of the water. (Sorry, Mom.)

*When I was discussing these implications with my mom, she asked if I thought Elizabeth’s feelings of failing her husband stem solely from her experience of postpartum depression. I said no, it’s probably been going on for longer. I mean, “I counted myself so plain, so poorly made, no honest love should come to me” very much seems like it stems from how she grew up. Cue the response from my mom that maybe she had more beautiful sisters. (WHAT is this? My mom usually gets things right when talking about stories, but when she’s wrong, she tends to be very wrong--remember her disproportionate reasons for not liking Mia?) I feel like there’s a better explanation than that, and as much as I tried to push down my idea, it has recently come back. Why? Oh, because I am Ellie Who Sits Down and Thinks About It Too Long, and if you sit down and think about it too long, you can find textual evidence for MORE reasons Elizabeth is misunderstood. I sat down and thought about it too long and I was like, “well, she certainly seems like she understands how people feel and what to do about it, but also can’t quite pin down what they feel--this extends to herself as well.” 

And then Isa (affectionate nickname for my internal monologue) was like, “isn’t that...affective empathy vs. cognitive empathy?” 

I kinda had to concede to that. “I mean, look at how my classmates doing her analysis poster took her being ‘cold’ at face value. What if she has alexithymia?” 

Isa really, really took this to the extreme. “And do you know what else tends to be co-occurring with alexithymia? Now hear me out, she seems to be on the spectrum as well! Isn’t her defining character trait having a strong sense of justice, for one?” 

“Please, Isa, can we stop here?” 

“No, wait, there’s more. Don’t the stage directions make a specific note that she’s averting her eyes from Danforth when being questioned in Act Three?” 

“Isa, that was one time, and she’s trying to look at John for a cue, that’s what! Don’t pathologize everything and certainly don’t go stretching--” 

“Correction: that was the one time the stage directions thought it was important enough to note. Depending on acting choices, she could have that as a constant thing. Also, I thought you threw out the idea that she’s searching for cues from John when you said she was looking at her voice instead in your staging, right?”

“Well, okay, you’re right, depending on acting choices, that could be constant. But I’m not conceding in regards to your other point: she still wants her voice to tell her what to do, more or less.”

“A cue is vague. The dominant reading may be a cue on how to respond, but it could also be on how to act. Whether she’s looking at John or her voice, she might feel safer looking there than at the imposing authority figure asking her questions, but because this might not be my strongest evidence, fine, moving on from that to circle back to the first topic. So say she does have alexithymia and finds it hard to identify emotions. That makes reading people that much harder, so rejection seems more unprompted. And if she experiences rejection sensitive dysphoria, guess how often that’s ignited.”

“Wait, now that just makes her life that much sadder. Why are you like this, Isa?”

“I just am. But that’s not important right now! Think now about the sensory aspect. Pregnancy already takes a toll on the body--imagine how amplified that would be for her.”

“Oh, goodness.”

“Also, John promised nothing would happen to her in Act Two, only for that to just fall through a few minutes later. It’s probably already hard for her to cope with unexpected change. Then the authorities have her chained, and it becomes that much harder to self-regulate via stimming! Besides, wouldn’t their suspicions of her being a witch be even worse if she tries? Like, they’d probably think she’s trying to cast a spell on them or something!”

“ISA, THIS IS TOO MUCH! BACKSPACE!”

“No. More subtext: Won’t Abigail, for example, wonder why John is suddenly defending Elizabeth? She sees herself as the better choice who won’t keep him down, in contrast with his wife, who has always been different in ways the time period has no reference for!”

“Woah, another layer.”

“Also, I’m only talking about events depicted in canon! Imagine what it’s like to grow up and be misconstrued as willfully difficult. Everyone is warned about you and no one gives you a chance! It’s the double empathy problem!”

“STOP NOW, ISA. I AM DONE WITH YOU BEING LIKE THIS.”

fun times here in the brain h*ckhole

let's break this down baybeeeee (under the cut, because i pride myself on being polite)

Keep reading

[phdna]

How do you reconcile wanting more male-male friendships that are openly affectionate and also wanting more representation? Because I love Steve and Bucky as friends, but I think representation matters and I never know if I should or shouldn't ship them... (And would your answer for this depends on whether we're talking about MCU or comics?)

I don’t have much time now so I’ll be ultra quick in my answer. I hope that’s fine. It’s just that this question has been in my inbox for a while now and I think it’ll be rude if I don’t answer it now. I wish I had more time!

So, first of all, I’m really not the best person to ask about this! You see, you really ought to be asking people who are directly affected by representation, in this case, people who identify as LGBT+. I usually write down my sexuality as quoisexual/quoiromantic, though for the past months I’ve been wondering if I’m not grey ace/aro. But either way, this is not a major part of my life and so I wouldn’t call myself LGBT+ and by default am not a good person to talk about this kind of thing.

However, while I encourage you to find other people to ask this to (more than one, btw, because naturally, no person can speak for an entire group), I’ll still answer this ask, so as long as you remember this is a personal opinion you should take with several grains of salt.

I’m a huge fan of close platonic relationships, regardless of what genders are involved. BROTPs are one of my favorite things in the world. I love to see women being there for each other (still mourning the end of Peggy and Angie), I love to see men and women loving each other without being love interests (Steve and Nat and Steve and Wanda are personal favorites), and I love to see men openly caring about each other with no “No Homo” tags attached (Steve and Sam and Steve and Bucky are a given, but can we also talk about Tony and Rhodey, please?). All these things are rare. Female characters are sorely lacking in the MCU (and in the world in general), and usually the ones that do exist hate each other or simply don’t interact. Everybody also knows that if a man and a woman get along in any meaningful way, they’re secretly soulmates, or are at least up to some casual making out, right? - well, Hollywood is pretty sure that’s how it goes, anyway. But male-male friendships are weird in the sense that there’s plenty of them to pick - but far too few are actually… well, loving. Loyal, sure. Interesting, definitely. But affectionate? Openly emotional? Nah.

Now, some of this comes down to the general rule that men aren’t allowed to have feelings. (Which is complete BS and one of the reasons why men also need feminism.) I think fiction has to acknowledge this to some extent. For the past several decades, men have been taught to not express emotions except for violent or sexual ones, and well… it’s hard to imagine a bunch of guys in modern day America not being emotionally repressed to some extent. So that’s a factor that comes into play when writing a script. That being said, using that as an excuse to have muscly icebergs of testosterone parading around as human beings is simply lazy writing. I don’t really expect the Avengers to go all “LET ME HUG YOU AND TELL YOU HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU”  to each other, or even to want to do that, but if you have to tell me “Oh they actually care about each other” for me to see it, then this is being done wrong. One of these days I’ll make a post about it, but an easy example is Steve and Tony. In Avengers and AoU, we’re supposed to believe they actually care about each other underneath all the fighting. And yeah, I think they care a bit, as teammates. But in CACW, you can actually see it without having Teaming Up Moments or “But I Actually Respect You!” Speeches. There’s actually friendly body language, there’s them seeing right through each other’s BS, there’s worrying about each other without particularly noticing it. And that’s an antagonistic dynamic!! You can do much more with people who DO get along. But that’s only if you acknowledge that men are human beings and human beings have hearts, and that hearts =/= hormones.

But not writing male emotion well isn’t the only thing that keep us from having genuinely affectionate male-male friendships. There’s the whole No Homo culture. I don’t think I have to elaborate here, but just to clarify - if men are affectionate towards each other, they must be secretly gay.

…so what?

I mean, if a guy wears a baseball cap, somebody might think he’s into baseball. Do you think your average guy would stop wearing baseball caps ever or have to say “Dude, I’m not a baseball fan, I’m wearing this baseball cap for a completely unrelated yet true reason” as a default disclaimer? That sounds bizarre. And it IS bizarre. Because there’s nothing wrong with being mistaken by a baseball fan. Which leads us to… well, the entire No Homo culture happens because society teaches that being guy is a bad thing.

So part (only part!!!) of the reason I would love for Steve and Bucky to be canon in the MCU is because I want more male-male friendships! If being gay stops being seen as wrong, there’ll be nothing wrong with seeming gay. So even if a random BROTP some years from now explodes as a ship, there’ll be no reason to change their dynamics, much like they don’t often change male-female dynamics just because people are shipping them when the Official Ship is a different one.

Personally, Steve and Bucky are my BROTP. That’s how I see them, that’s how I headcanon them. Politically? I’ll take any chance to yell at Marvel that making them an official OTP is something I want. Because I DO want it. My headcanons are far less important than the effect that Captain America being bi would have on so many people who need to see this happening. But at the same time, I can also yell at Marvel to keep writing men having positive, emotional relationships with each other. It’s one of those situations you can have your cake and eat it too. In general, I want to see more friendships; in particular, I want the symbolism of Captain “Always Right” America and Bucky “Baddass In Human Form” Barnes being LGBT+. Mostly, because I’m not LGBT+, I’m an ally, and being an ally means I fight together with them. And if their current (is it current? I haven’t been much online lately) fight is that, then my voice will be heard in support of them. That’s pretty much it.

Now, this is all an oversimplification. Society isn’t made of neat bullet points. It’s more of a web. So if you start wondering why men aren’t allowed to have loving friendships with each other in the way women usually are, you’ll end up uncovering lots of theories about feminism and gender and other stuff like them. Look them up! Educate yourself! Because this is really complicated and there’s no cookie-cutter answer, I believe. So maybe you’ll end up realizing (and please, please, please, talk to all minorities involved as you do that!) that you feel more strongly about the emotional repression of men than about LGBT+ issues. It’s possible and it’s not for me to say it that’s right or wrong. (Again, talk to the people directly affected by these things!)

All this being said, I strongly believe shipping shouldn’t be about what you feel you should be doing, but about what you enjoy. I think it IS a moral duty to do SOMETHING to make the world a more equal place for all, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be how you consume entertainment. You have to be critical and you have to take a stand when the media crosses the line, yes, but there are other forms of activism to explore as well, and it’s an impossible standard to be in social justice mode 24/7. Do what makes you happy, just make sure you aren’t being a passive bystander when it comes to other people’s rights.

But just to say it one more time: this is only my opinion and I’m probably wrong about at least something.

As for whether my answer would depend…………….. I don’t know. I feel a little conflicted about shipping Steve and Bucky in the comics because there are definitely father-son overtones to their dynamics even though modern comics have them having only a small (4 years, give or take) age gap now. I feel like making them canon might do more harm than good, because it could be very, very easily twisted to make them sound like an abusive relationship of some sort. Even in universe, it could be problematic: Bucky sees Steve as his commander, and Steve still sees Bucky as a child, and I’m not sure I can imagine what would need to happen for them to actually get together without either of them or both feeling uncomfortable, possibly enough to make this a slightly dubcon-y situation. But then again, a talented writer could probably make it work by playing down the creepy elements and playing up the fact that they DO see each other as equals and would never do anything to hurt each other on any level (which is also true.) So my answer is basically: I don’t know.

So yeah, that’s my far from perfect reply to your ask. Sorry for the delay - and for the length!