#And it might be an entirely inconsequential detail

[saltpepperbeard]

so are y’all like me and fixate on the fact that stede has two pillows/an open space available every time you see a shot of his bed or are you normal

[kisakis-boyfriend]

I have a Halloween-esque Bennett request. He lives in a really superstitious village that hates him bc of his bad luck. So on Halloween they try to sacrifice him in a ritual. They wind up summoning Incubus!Reader and we decide to keep him as a pampered pet. And maybe we use the power we gain from Bennett’s pleasure to get revenge on those fuckers who hurt him

Sacrificial Lamb

Pairings: Bennett x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, incubus!reader, sub/bottom!Bennett, blowjob, descriptions of violence, descriptions of gore at the end, implied deaths at the end

Genre/Format: Smut, hurt/comfort; Oneshot

Author's Note: Bennett is 18-19 in this story! — Hell yeah, incubi!! This is such an intriguing concept, it was super fun to brainstorm for this one :3

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

This child is cursed, they all thought. This child is a curse sent to destroy our village from the inside, they all said. This child, no...this thing must be removed before it brings total calamity upon us all, they screamed

The booming voices of the townspeople echoed within the church walls during an emergency meeting. A meeting that was held during one of the young boy's daily journeys into a neighboring town, sent out there to collect several items for his own town. They knew that Bennett wouldn't return until nearly nightfall, so there was more than enough time to conjure up a plan to remove the young boy from their village

During all of that commotion, the young boy known as Bennett traveled on foot to the other town, tripping several times on the way to and back. His usual bad luck never leaves his side even for a second. Sometimes the bad luck was inconsequential, only affecting him or the other townsfolk in small ways. Other times the bad luck caused the entire village to panic as their water supply became contaminated once again, or as a horrific accident occured during Bennett's watch

Whatever the case, these things always circled back to Bennett. The entire village blamed him for any wrongs or catastrophes, even when they didn't have any evidence of Bennett, or his bad luck rather, being the culprit. It was always his fault in their eyes

So just what was their brilliant plan to remove the bad seed from their pristine town? Why, they would simply kill the poison before it could spread any further. The conclusion of their secret meeting was the local witch agreeing to search for a spell that would summon a demon that they could all sacrifice Bennett to, removing him without ever getting a single drop of blood on their hands

Weeks went by until the witch called for another meeting, announcing their proposed plan based on the information that they had gathered. The date of this sacrifice would be Halloween night, when the veil would be at its thinnest and it might be a bit easier to reach the demonic underworld. The townspeople agreed upon this date and worked out several details before dispersing back to their nightly activities

Months passed until the fated month of the young man's untimely death would approach. Spring came and went, Bennett's eighteenth birthday flew by, summer scorched the land and autumn soothed the previous heat wave. Then, the end of October arrived, and every soul within the village grew antsy as that day inched closer and closer. They continued with every last autumnal festivity as if they weren't plotting the murder of an innocent young man, their minds completely corrupt by selfishness and arrogance

-

On the night of the thirty-first, a restless Bennett tossed and turned in the small bed situated against the wall of his tiny wooden house. He lived alone, with no relatives or friends or even livestock to accompany himself, and was forced to occupy the smallest structure within the village. He knew better than to complain though, after all he did at least have a roof over his head and a bed to sleep in. Even if it wasn't luxury, it was preferable to sleeping outside on the hard ground or under a tarp that would so easily blow away during a harsh storm

Sighing as he rolled over for the nth time this night, Bennett tried to distract himself from the uneasy feeling that filled his gut. It was probably just because it was Halloween and this holiday always seemed eerie compared to all of the other celebratory days of the year, what with that ‘thinning of the veil’ schtick and the townsfolk reciting all manner of terrifying tales to the kids. Everything about this time of the year centered around spookiness and horror, and the combined atmosphere of that and the townsfolk being extra cruel to Bennett around this time was the most likely cause of his uneasiness...

...Or so he thought. Just when Bennett had begun to drift off to sleep, his front door was kicked open with a loud bang, startling the poor boy awake. He had little time to react as several of the men from his village stomped towards his bed and roughly grabbed him, squeezing his frail arms while they dragged him outside and towards the dark forest

Upon arriving at the prepared space, they threw him onto the dirt, circling around him so that he had no means of escaping his fate. Their many faces scowled at the young man, spitting curses and harsh accusations while he trembled in confusion, salty tears quickly pricking the corners of his eyes

“W-wait! What are you doing?! What's going o-on?!” Bennett whimpered, instinctually curling in on himself. Some of the people laughed at his fearful expressions, others just grew angrier for reasons that he couldn't understand. One of the village blacksmiths stepped forward and swiftly kicked Bennett over, landing another strong kick to his ribs and causing the boy to cry out in pain. Another large man joined in, grabbed the collar of Bennett's shirt and forced the boy to face him, lifting his torso so that he was almost sitting up

Tears slid down Bennett's cheeks as he stared at the man, confusion swirling behind those emerald green eyes as he tried to make sense of this. “Please...why are you doing this?!” The question was ignored as a heavy punch landed square in his face, causing him to fall onto the ground with a loud thud as blood trickled out of his nose. The boy's hands quickly fly up to hold his nose in agony, crying out harder while the menacing people watch on in amusement

While cruel laughter flooded his ears, the two men began to remove his clothes, stripping him of everything and pushing him back down once they were finished. He lay there humiliated and shivering as the cold night air nipped at his bare skin painfully

“Tie him up.” Said one voice; the town's mayor. Tossing rope to one of the larger men so that they could bind Bennett's arms and legs together tightly, not caring about the rope burns already forming on his tender skin because of how harshly they bound him. The same men then carried the young boy over somewhere else, over to a magic circle drawn on the dirt and surrounded by torches where they planned on carrying out their deed

Bennett's head spun after being thrown back onto the ground, with no clue what was happening or why, he simply cried harder. Broken sobs spilling forth while the chanting of the townspeople drowned him out. Though tears clouded his vision, the poor boy still noticed when the torches changed colour, the flames growing impossibly high as the chants of the people grew quiet

The next thing he knew, the ground had begun to swallow him up, the strange circle he had been placed on sank into the earth slowly while the purple flames flared up dangerously, blinding his vision. Bennett screamed for help, desperately hoping that anyone would hear him and have mercy. Once again, luck was not on his side since the loud roars of the people still in the village drowned out his screams, their celebratory cheering covered up the vile acts committed within the forest next to the town conveniently

-

When Bennett finally awoke it felt as though many hours had passed. His mind was still a bit hazy as he lazily turned his head to check the environment around him. This is...a room? Ugh...where am I? Aah–!!

A sharp inhale alerted you to the fact that the human had finally woken up. You excitedly rushed into the room that he had been resting in, stopping yourself from slamming the door open so that you wouldn't scare him though

“Hi~” Your sweet voice whispered while you poked your head into the room, cracking the door open just enough to allow the human to see your face. His eyes immediately snapped open in fear and his breathing sped up while he tried to scoot away, the effort unsuccessful since he hit a wall almost instantly

“No no, relax. I'm not here to hurt you, little one!” Attempting to make yourself appear as docile as possible, you chose not to move closer until he had given you permission. “Can I come in? I promise I'm friendly.”

Bennett contemplated your question. His mind was racing as he tried to recall everything that had happened to him before he woke up here, the memories of what happened in the forest slowly crept back into his mind and brought a single tear rolling down his cheek. This detail caused you to frown, clearly this boy has been through something terrible. You really didn't want to upset him further, but you wanted to understand what had happened for him to get sent to your abode in the state that he was in when he arrived

Carefully leaning into the room a bit further, you tried to talk to him again, to get even a single word out of him. “Are you in pain? You look pretty beat up... I'd like to help you, if that's alright.”

“Y-you...you can...come in.” Bennett sniffled, averting your gaze as his head hung down. With the softest steps that you could possibly take, you entered the room and stood next to the bed that the boy had been sleeping on

“Mind if I sit?” He nodded, his entire body tensing up when he felt the mattress shift under your weight. “My name is y/n. Do you have a name, dear?” Silence. The human was probably still shaken up from whatever had happened to him previously to trust you yet, though you were more than willing to ease the information out of him and gain his trust. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm sure you're still confused as to what's going on...”

“–ennett.”

“Hm? I didn't quite catch that, darling. Can you repeat that for me?” You asked, leaning over just the slightest bit to hear him better

“Bennett....my name is Bennett...” He repeated meekly. His knees were tucked into his chest while he sat there, curled in on himself and still obviously frightened by everything

A smile found its way onto your lips at the mention of his name, “That's a lovely name. How old are you, Bennett?” The next hour or so was spent coaxing answers to simple questions out of the nervous human. You learned that his name was Bennett, that he had turned eighteen around six months ago, he had no family and he lived alone in a village just south of some mountains. Trying your best not to bombard the boy with questions and allowing him to answer each one at whatever pace he felt comfortable with

As gently as you could, you explained who and what you were; a type of demon known as an incubus. While the human was nervous at first he did eventually relax after you assured him that you wouldn't touch him without his explicit consent. Eventually you coaxed him off of the bed so that you could tend to his wounds, tenderly rubbing soothing ointment onto his burns and wiping some more blood from his nose

-

Over the course of the next few months you managed to earn Bennett's trust. You did everything that you could to treat the little human like royalty; cooking foods that he loved, buying him only the most comfortable clothing, talking about anything and everything with him and becoming fast friends. In the beginning, you had explained that Bennett could provide a certain type of energy that your kind feeds off of, and that you would require that energy at some point. Though you promised not to throw him into the deep end right away

Being inexperienced as he was, Bennett would need to be eased into this new life of his. It began with gentle touches; brushing your fingers against his when you were hanging out or taking a walk in nature, moving on to holding his hand, eventually giving him a peck on the cheek before bedtime. All sorts of small things that got him used to physical affection in general

Then it escalated to things such as pulling the human into your lap, though he still squirmed a bit within your grasp. The way he became so flustered at simple things was too cute. A light shade of pink would blossom on his soft skin as you leaned in to steal his first kiss, breathing words of encouragement and praising him for his sweet reactions

It wasn't long before your darling decided that he was ready for his first time... nervous, yet eager to relinquish his virginity to someone that he trusted. You questioned him, just to make sure that he was truly ready, and he insisted that it was time

You began as always, pulling him in for a gentle kiss and placing your hands on his hips while he wrapped his around your neck shakily. A whimper escaping from him when you licked his bottom lip, asking for permission to take this one step further, which Bennett granted. His soft moans slowly filled the silence of the bedroom while your groans complimented them as you slipped one hand under his shirt and began to feel him up. Exploring the expanse of your darling's chest and soon playing with his nipples, earning more cute whines against your lips

Eventually, you had to part so that you could breathe, giggling in between chaste kisses to each other's faces. “Can I touch a little lower, Benny?” You asked, brushing your fingers through his soft hair while your forehead rested against his. The human nodded with a breathy ‘uh-huh’, his hands now resting on your shoulders

With another kiss to the tip of his nose, you gently slid your hand down until you reached between his legs, feeling just how much this was turning your pet on as his dick was already pretty hard. Bennett gasped at the unfamiliar contact, growing warmer with every new touch to his sensitive body. When you began rubbing him through his clothing, he humped your hand hungrily, chasing the electric pleasure from your touch down there

You took this as a sign to speed it up and be a bit rougher, to which the human responded with a wanton moan directly in your ear. “Oho? Did that feel good, Benny?” You purred, causing another moan to fall from his lips as he nodded again. Taking it another step forward, you helped Bennett remove his shirt and pants, then your own swiftly joined them on the floor

The boy's hips jerked when you returned to stroking him, spreading the strings of precum along his shaft as your hand glided up and down, kissing Bennett with a new hunger as you, too, grew excited. Staring into his emerald eyes while you jerked him off roughly nearly caused the human's legs to give out. The fire behind your eyes spurred Bennett on, enticing him to let go and release every sound that bubbled to the surface

Your next move surprised Bennett a little bit as a small 'wha–!!' escaped from him. His back came in contact with the soft sheets on his bed, legs naturally spreading open when you crawled on top and hovered over him. The nervous boy breathed another beautiful moan when your hardening cock brushed against his virgin hole, the tiniest taste of what was to come soon

An insatiable need to taste your pet took over and you leaned down to take him into your mouth, licking the shaft before swallowing every inch greedily. Bennett's hands flew to the sheets above him, clenching them within his fists as you bobbed up and down his length like a starving man. His cock kissed the back of your throat and the feeling was as close to heaven as a demon could experience; precum dribbled down your esophagus with every downward movement of your head, causing tears to gather in the corners of your eyes as his decadent taste filled your mouth. You couldn't help yourself when your hips began grinding against the end of the bed, humping the mattress like a horny dog while you did everything within your power to make Bennett cum

“Gghh! W-wait I'm...Hah! That feels too good, y/n—!! ” Your pet screamed as you massaged his balls, gagging on his cock until he finally shot his load into your mouth. He nearly began to cry when you refused to pop off and continued sucking more drops of cum from his aching dick

When you were a bit more satisfied, you let his dick slide out of your mouth with a loud plop when it hit his stomach. You licked your lips and complimented your darling, telling him “You did so good, Benny! How did that feel?”

With a heaving chest Bennett gasped out an answer, bucking his hips when you rubbed little circles into his skin. But that wasn't where you intended to stop. Oh no, you hadn't even touched on the main event yet

“I'm so glad you enjoyed that, lovely. Mm but now it's my turn, you're going to make me cum too, right?” You said, faking a pout while your finger trailed up Bennett's pale chest. The boy eagerly nodded, beginning to sit up on the bed and maneuver himself so that he could suck you off as well. Though you swiftly pushed him back down with a dull thud against the cloth. “Where are you going, sweetie?”

Bennett blinked at you as he said, “G-going to put yours in my mouth? Isn't that what you want me to do?”

His misunderstanding was kind of sweet and you couldn't help kissing his pretty lips before correcting him, “Aw baby, that's very sweet of you...but you're not giving me a blowjob yet, not tonight at least.” Your hands traveled downwards, gliding over his nipples, then abs, then over his hips before finally reaching his inner thighs

“No, love, you're going to take me riiiight here~ ” You drawled, tapping on his hole and then rubbing the pads of your fingers around it. Bennett's response was a pretty arch of his back accompanied by a shuddering inhale, rolling his hips into the air as his dick twitched at the idea. Truly a sight to behold, especially with that look on his face. A mixture of excitement and uncertainty, eager to experience his first penetration yet nervous all the same

“Hold your legs up for me, 'kay?” You winked, retreating for a second to grab some lube so that you would slide into Bennett a little more easily. Squeezing a bit of the substance onto your fingers and rubbing them together before you pushed in a single digit, slowly pumping in and out, then adding a second finger. Curling your fingers and hitting that spot that made the pretty boy's back arch again, accompanied by moans as his ass was touched for the first time

After scissoring your digits for a bit and drawing more beads of precum from Bennett's dick, you removed them from his hole and gave your own cock a few pumps to slick yourself up. Spreading more lube on your shaft while you stare into your darling's eyes, asking one more time if he was ready for this

A confident ‘yes’ was all that was needed for you to breach the orifice. Bennett's eyes widened when the head pushed past his ring of muscles, stretching him further than your fingers did a minute ago. Pushing in a bit more drew out the sweetest noises from your pet as your thick shaft stretched him even more, filling his tight hole so much that it caused an embarrassing bulge in his little stomach. His insides were forced to accept the new object as they squeezed around it and molded to its shape, a sensation that would happen countless more times within the young man's lifetime from now on

“B-big...so big...aaah...” Bennett whimpered, weakly thrusting his hips to take more of your length. Though it was a little hard to take something so thick when he had never taken anything before, your hands lovingly caressing his body, carding through his hair, and your words of encouragement compelled the eager man to take more. To push himself more and be good for you. And then your velvety lips made contact with his again, warm and so gentle in contrast with the speeding up of your thrusts as you chased the pleasure that his hole brought you

Your cock drooled within Bennett's walls, desperate to release all of the cum built up inside of you. It was just part of your nature to fuck adorable humans like this; to fuck and breed and cum until your partner was exhausted. To absorb the sexual energy that a human releases whenever an incubus or succubus ravages them. To devour that energy and become even stronger so that you could, in turn, give your human more pleasure. Creating an endless feedback loop of pleasure and power

“Aa-aahh! Y/n...it feels...feels good– ” He screamed, bucking wildly into the air as his own dick leaked all over his pretty skin, neglected while you were busy losing yourself in the feeling of his insides clenching around your cock

“Ah...I'm sorry, my love. Didn't...oh fffuuuck... didn't mean to forget you like that.” Swiftly bringing a hand up to his sensitive member, you stroked his little dick with a skilled hand. Your palm smeared the precum around before returning to pumping his full length while you fucked into him a bit harder, throwing your head back in ecstasy as you moaned out, “Cum for me again, Bennett. I know you can give me one more, yeah? Oh fuck...mmm uh-huh~ ”

Bennett's fingers wrapped around your forearms as his second orgasm drew near, desperate for anything to ground himself with while he shot another load of cum all over his chest. Meanwhile, you were so lost in pleasure that you roughly snapped your hips into his while continuing to pump his dick long after he came, overstimulating the poor thing. It wasn't until you spilled inside Bennett that you stopped stroking his soft cock, growling as your cum flooded his ass with a sticky warmth that was all too new to him

-

Several more months passed by and the boy had grown accustomed to sex being a part of his daily life. You were well aware that a human's stamina was not endless, so you were kind enough to give him frequent breaks. Oftentimes you'd spend an entire week simply spoiling your pet with non-sexual sentiments

The days would start off either cooking breakfast together or you cooking for him and serving it in bed, sharing giggles and kisses as you placed a tiny bit of syrup on Bennett's nose and he returned the playful gesture. After cleaning up you would brainstorm activities to do together; practicing new skills or hobbies, finding games to play together, or simply cuddling for a bit while music softly played in the background. Some days you might offer to give your lover a massage to ease his aches from your recent rough endeavors, kneading his body with your skilled hands until Bennett felt weightless and drowsy from the treatment. Then as nighttime took over, you'd draw the loveliest, most romantic bath to settle down in. Complete with candles and anything that would make your darling happy while the warm water melted away everything except pure bliss, surrounding your bodies as they pressed together inside of the bathtub

Nothing could make you happier than this sweet young man that was gifted to you, albeit under horrific circumstances. No matter how many times you attempted to suppress those feelings, they would always bubble up again. The horror stories that Bennett related to you regarding his time in that village...that god-forsaken village full of heathens...

It's not like the human would be able to go back to that village...not that he wanted to anyway. No one would care if something horrendous happened, right? Certainly no one would be able to tie it back to you; a mere incubus that only those deemed the town's heretics, drunkards, and witches had even a sliver of knowledge of

With that in mind from day one, you decided to store up portions of the energy that Bennett frequently provided your demon self with. Stockpiling small amounts — and spending the week prior fucking the boy into oblivion, therefore gaining large bursts of sexual energy right before your big plan — everything was set for your little revenge plot

They never saw it coming. The whirlwind that was your anger and resentment towards every last soul confined to that land. It was once again hallow's eve; an entire year after a young man with beautiful yet terrified green eyes and the prettiest face you had ever laid eyes on fell into your grasp. An entire year filled with such lovely memories, the brightest smile you'd ever seen from a human, and countless intimate moments had taken place. None of these heartless creatures could ever guess that one whole year of boiling anger — from a demon, no less — would come back to haunt them

-

Light footsteps paraded through the dirt roads that ran through the town, a small bounce in your step, though it was more twisted, manic excitement than happiness. Your little wings twitched behind you while your (e/c) eyes glowed dangerously, drowning out even the brightest harvest moon shining above the destroyed houses that lined the roads

Deep, sadistic laughter fell from your lips as they curled upwards into a smile. The sight of your signature purple flames engulfing the many crumbling buildings filled your demonic heart with glee, unable to hide your feelings of disgust towards the village responsible for such atrocities as the ones they have committed

Screams pierced the chilly night air all around you, harmonizing together with the howls of distant wolves and the many crows that passed overhead in large flocks. The sources of the screaming would pass by you, begging for help that fell on deaf ears. “Help? Where was the help that you so desperately crave when an innocent boy was beaten and sacrificed?! Where were you when those sins took place?! All of you are stained with guilt, and you will pay for the crimes enacted here one year ago. I will make damn sure of that.” You spat, immediately flicking a tiny ember onto the crying human as they became consumed by blinding flames. Falling into a pile of ash within seconds and blowing away from a strong breeze as you walked past them without even blinking

Continuing on until your grand prize practically ran into you, slamming into your chest and falling onto the ground with a painful thud. His fearful, cowardly, angry gaze met your stone-cold stare as his head tilted up. “Wh-what...what are you? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!?!”

You couldn't stop the enraged chuckle that escaped from your lips. “Funny... that's exactly what I heard him say while you sacrificed him. The faintest, broken voice that cried out for help. Begging for an answer or a reason behind the cruelty inflicted upon him.” You paused to lean down, hovering just inches away from the man's face before spitting, “But, tell me...did you ever feel an ounce of remorse for your sins?”

The selfish rage burning behind his eyes had already given you the answer to that. You never even expected an answer in the first place. As if someone like this, who was consumed by his own ego long, long ago, would ever feel guilt or shame for his actions. You knew better than to believe that there was a single kind bone in this one's body

“You FREAK!! Begone, foul demon! In the name of the Lor–” One swift kick shut him up real quick, nearly breaking his jaw with the amount of strength that you packed behind the motion. Blood trickled from your clenched hands as you slowly walked towards the man

Crouching down to his level, your hand latched onto the back of his neck and yanked him up, twisting his body so that he couldn't look away. “I am going to enjoy breaking you, human. Every millisecond of your suffering will become my pleasure~ ” A heavy poison dripped from your lips with each word, a dangerous glint in your eye complimented the promise as sharp nails tore at the human's flesh. His pathetic wails filled the center of the village as you took your time dismantling the weak body. Blood staining your skin and splattering across your deranged features

Slimy entrails were ripped painfully from the mayor's stomach one by one, torn in half right before his eyes. Meanwhile onlookers gasped and choked up bile while the gorey scene played out before them. Occasionally your gaze would snap over to one of them, challenging a single word to come out so that you could rip their tongue out and shove it elsewhere in their disgusting corpse

By the time you were done no one would even recognize the pile of meat and viscera as human. Not that there would be anyone left to recognize anything, of course. The history of this village would become forever stained with crimson, wrapped inside of a mystery as to how hundreds of people died in gruesome ways all in a single night

Who knows how long the bodies would rot there; left to be picked apart by wild animals or buried by nature. It didn't really matter to you. They were history. The only thing concerning you now was a nice bath to calm your mind and cleanse the gore off of your body, and returning to a sleeping Bennett that you could snuggle up to

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

[sensarna]

This is basically me going insane over a single name drop (spoilers and theories below)

So... Anton

The answer to the identity seems obvious, but I would not be myself, if I wasn't over-analyzing things

So let's do just that

The way the name was said - no explanation, no context - means one of two things: the person in question is either so inconsequential that he is not worth the breath to add the details, or is so familiar, that to add an explanation means going out of character. I'm more inclined to believe it's the latter, mostly because I don't remember a single character without even a little bit of background info added for the flair.

(Also Kitten didn't ask about him before or after D's story, so he is probably familiar with Anton. However, there is also a possibility that after.... everything, Kitten either didn't want to ask out of politeness; had no time to ask before D left with the dogs or missed the name entirely)

So, let's assume that this Anton is fairly familiar then. But who is he and what was he doing there? I believe he is one of three options:

1. He is a completely new character who's probably going to be introduced later. Most likely a hunter who worked closely enough with the family that Kitten either knows him or heard about him before.

2. He is one of the brothers. Again, Kitten either heard about him before or knows him personally.

And finally 3. Seemingly the most obvious answer, since he's the only person without a name - a Brother given to the Fey King as a thrall for 40 years. But I have a problem with this explanation. When Kitten tried to say the Lost Brother's name before, D stopped him. He asked Kitten not to say it out loud, clearly distressed and trying to calm down. So the idea that D would say it himself, with no pause or hiccup, seems to contradict with his previous reaction.

I, personally, think that Anton is one of the brothers - whether lost or still active only time will tell - and is more likely an Expy (exported character). Which means, that Anton - if you use the naming method of "sounding very familiar" - is the Extremely, Earth-Shatteringly, Unreasonably, Fuck-Ass Mad Boi Angron...which makes him an even better candidate for the role of this Lost Brother if you view him becoming a thrall as a twist on Angron's story in Warhammer, where he was enslaved at least twice: first as a gladiator, fighting for the amusement of the rich and powerful, and then when he became a Demon Primarch of Khorne.

So, yeah. Most likely an Expy of Angron. Might be the Brother given to the Fey, since it's the only person without a name, and the story itself has some parallels with the Warhammer Angron lore. But, D's reaction to the Kitten almost saying the name out loud doesn't match with how it was delivered later. May be Lost, may be Active.

That's all for me. I know it's pretty bare bone and doesn't have a satisfying conclusion, but there's not a lot for me to work with for now. I hope that in the future there will be more information about this character and I do hope that Anton is Angron, mostly because I want to see what kind of person he would be in this universe and what his relationship with D is.

P.S.: Not sure where and if I should mention this, but there were some ideas flying around on Reddit and Tumblr about what the other Primarchs might be like in HTP and I went with a more supernatural origin for most of them. I kid you not, when I've learned about Changeling The Dreaming I thought it would be hilarious if Angron was not a Werewolf or a Vampire but a Fae. Especially when I was informed of a thing called Redcap. Angron might not have anything to do with the hunger aspect, but he does have a mean attitude and a penchant for violence. So if Anton/Angron is confirmed to somehow be the 3rd option, then I kinda predicted it.

[dr-futbol-blog]

Runner, Pt. 3

We follow Lorne and McKay through the deep dark woods and Sheppard seems to have been correct about not being able to be very stealthy with McKay around. Like he tells Sheppard later in Tao of Rodney (S03E14), not talking makes him anxious. Babbling about something helps him keep his fear at bay. Now, he could just be making inconsequential small-talk because he doesn't know Lorne and probably isn't that interested in getting to know him either, but he seems to take this opportunity to learn something about Sheppard. He asks Lorne about something that he would know that pertains to Sheppard but that he had never either asked Sheppard or got Sheppard to answer him:

McKay: So exactly what kind of, uh, special training do you guys have to go through to get this sort of mission? Lorne: ‘You guys'? McKay: Yeah, you know. Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, it's a great place to start!

He's being smooth about it by not mentioning Air Force first, even though that's what he is definitely most curious about (and, unlike Sgt. Bates, Lorne actually is Air Force, further indicating he was Sheppard's choice for the position).* And this is not about getting to know Lorne because he's not that keen to get to know new people. He can barely remember the names of members of his own science team, it even took him weeks to learn Zelenka's name and he respects him as a scientist. He is asking because, be things as they may between them, Sheppard is still the centre of his universe. Lorne, however, seems unwilling to share personal details about his life with this scientist that is not his scientist (we did see him share personal things with Parrish before), opting for sarcasm instead:

Lorne: And by ‘this mission' you mean hunting down a skilled weapons expert hopped up on wraith drugs in the pitch black of an alien planet? McKay: Yes! Lorne: Actually, I skipped that course in Major school. McKay: Yeah, I was afraid of that.

It is interesting that Lorne's initial reaction was to question which group of men McKay was actually putting him into. He says "You guys?" like he needs to make sure what McKay is talking about. Because he is member of more than one group of men. And whether he realizes it or not, his sexual orientation did play a part in why Sheppard chose him for the mission. It's not inconsequential. Also, even though McKay is a professional when it comes to staying in the closet with military types, it's entirely possible Lorne had clocked McKay as a gay man the moment he walked into Weir's office because, again, it's easier to see from the inside out.

With Sheppard, it's not as obvious. Given that Lorne doesn't know either of them, he might actually think that it's McKay's sexual orientation that is making Sheppard treat him with the disdain that he now seems to be treating him with. It's not a huge logical leap to make, just observing the two of them. And while he certainly hopes this isn't true about his new CO, it does make him more careful around him. To perform more masculine, to behave more military. To show McKay the same disdain he thinks Sheppard does. But he's not a bad guy and he is also trying to get along with McKay:

Lorne: I was hoping Lieutenant Ford might recognize a friendly face and just turn himself in. McKay: What, you mean me?! Lorne: Well, you were friends, weren't you? McKay: Oh, yeah! When we weren't out on harrowing missions, we used to hang out together. I'd share my dreams of a self-sustaining fusion and he, he would talk of how you could sever a man's torso with a P90!

What's interesting here is that this could just as well be true about McKay and Sheppard. McKay is a scientist, Sheppard is a career soldier. On the face of it, they should have nothing in common. And yet we did see them grow very close during the first season, and that their closeness was something Ford was actually envious about, a closeness he desired to have with Sheppard. Now, at this time we don't actually know what Sheppard and McKay talk about when they're alone together, because we haven't been given many chances to observe them when they are not around other people and not in the middle of some kind of an emergency. The last time we (along with Weir) walked in on them talking, they were discussing how big something is, and we never did find out what. They have a different taste in movies. They like different sports. But they do have things in common too, and they are still curious about each other, learning each other, as evinced by McKay's line of questioning here. They're different, but in many ways complementary, too. McKay wants to learn what makes Sheppard Sheppard.

But it's interesting they bring up the topic of friendship here, for the second time in this episode. Lorne assumes McKay and Ford had been friends, McKay isn't sure they were quite that close. He doesn't really have a lot of friends, and certainly not outside of work. Beckett is the closest thing to a best friend he's ever had. Because John Sheppard is not his friend (and even here, as he contrasts himself and a military type, he is saying he and Sheppard are not friends; they will never be friends). He might have considered Sheppard a friendly face waiting for him to come home before, but he never placed him into the mental category of friend.

They were something different. They were something closer than that. They were something more. And now, they weren't, not any more. They were trying to be friends and they were failing miserably because they just couldn't keep from making these little digs at each other constantly, all the time. They might have loved each other but right now it seemed like they didn't even like each other, and that's a minimum requirement for friendship.

But McKay does mention a few interesting things. First, the severing of a torso with a P-90, since we just saw Sheppard attach his P-90 to his tac vest, grunting sensually as he did it. As far as Sheppard was concerned, McKay had ripped his heart right off of his chest so he wasn't a stranger to severing a man's torso, metaphorically speaking. And second, he mentions sharing his dreams. With Ford, he didn't share his dreams. But he had been sharing his dreams with Sheppard; Sheppard knew about his nightmares. Later, in Doppelganger (S04E04), they will both literally share each others' dreams but given that by this time McKay seems to already know what Sheppard's nightmares are like, it seems like they had both been doing this long before that time.

Also, the fact that he mentions self-sustaining fusion in particular as one of the dreams he had shared becomes important as we come to Trinity (S02E06), but more about that later. Point is, with Sheppard he had shared his dreams. And apparently Sheppard had shared some of his experiences in the military with McKay too, as it seems like he misses that here. He's asking Lorne to tell him about his training because he misses Sheppard talking to him about it. He misses Sheppard.

The fact that Sheppard had not only talked to him about military stuff but had been teaching him things like tactical signs (and forward rolls) is underlined by his reaction to Lorne suddenly throwing his fist up:

McKay: What -- that means quiet, right? Lorne: Get down, get down, get down! McKay: What? What? Lorne: I thought I saw something move.

We are also able to see how different McKay's communication is with Lorne as compared with Sheppard. McKay has real trouble understanding the Major, whether he's using his tactical signs or his words, having to repeat the question "What?" several times, and still not quite getting on the same page with him. Similarly, he doesn't seem to understand Lorne's sarcasm and it takes him quite a while to notice that Lorne seems extremely displeased by his company.

In contrast, McKay reads Sheppard extremely well. His body, his facial expressions, his tone of voice, the whole nine yards of him. But this does not translate to being able to understand other people, and his limited people skills are clearly on display here. A point of comparison is also the fact that Lorne seems pretty handsy with people, manhandling both McKay and Parrish. He is not afraid of touching them to move them around. We did see Sheppard touching McKay from pretty early on (even though he was initially protected by a personal shield) but he was very careful about it. As though he wasn't quite sure he was allowed, like at the end of Hide and Seek (S01E02) as he steals a touch when McKay is passed out.

At the same time elsewhere in the forest, Sheppard and Teyla are tracking something, and we can compare their interaction to McKay and Lorne. They are entirely professional. The little that they talk is all business. In fact, Sheppard has very seldom asked Teyla anything personal and he doesn't seem that interested in her as a person. Sheppard could show some interest in Teyla, or her culture, or her galaxy, he could be trying to get to know her better--but he doesn't. Sure, over the years they get to know each other fairly well but they neither of them get very personal. Sheppard just isn't interested in her like that.

With McKay, they have a whole world of context between them. They're able to have conversations so intimate and idiosyncratic even the audience doesn't necessarily get what they're talking about. They don't even need words to talk, and they can hurt each other with a mere syllable. Even when they are trying to remain professional, like now, they can't help but get personal with each other.

We have seen private moments between Sheppard and Teyla, scenes very erotic even when they've been sparring, but neither of them seems interested in the other, not in getting to know the other person and not sharing things about themselves; not even when Teyla was basically in Sheppard's subconscious in Home (S01E08). While Teyla is much more empathic than Sheppard, their interpersonal relationship is cool and professional.

As it happens both teams, Sheppard and Teyla as well as Lorne and McKay, think that they hear something move in the bushes and take after them. Lorne and Sheppard are in radio contact, and they hear Sheppard tell them that Teyla has been "hit" before they lose radio contact with them entirely.

It seems as though many of the reactions in the episode are slightly off, or subdued. For one, Sheppard doesn't even know whether Teyla was killed by what ever hit her, but his reaction to this is pretty underwhelming, and this is relevant for later. He sees Teyla fall down from shot in the back, and he's immediately in survival mode, scanning his environment for the threat. But McKay's reaction to them suddenly losing radio contact after hearing that Teyla has been taken down is similarly subdued.

Let me also point out this: Lorne thinks McKay is out of shape and for sure, he's not an athlete. He's not trained to traipse through the jungle. But for sure he's in better shape than most of the science team, and he not only manages to somewhat keep up with Lorne here, he later spends several hours wading through the woods in a rubber suit with nothing to drink the whole time. We saw Sheppard running to keep up after Teyla the same as McKay was running to keep up with Lorne, so he's really not as bad as Lorne seems to think.

For some reason, probably due to the influence of Sheppard's current disposition toward McKay, Lorne has just decided to dislike McKay. And when someone does that, everything about the other person becomes annoying and suddenly you're just looking for reasons to hate them. It's not exactly fair toward McKay, but it is important for later.

When they lose radio contact to Sheppard, we see Lorne call out to him several times. He's much less used to exploring alien planets than McKay is, and he seems to be freaking out, having lost contact to his CO who was supposed to tell him what to do in a situation like this. He seems to be close to hyperventilating, his breath coming out fast. He's so lost that he looks at McKay for what to do in this situation.

In contrast, McKay does not appear to react at all. He barely moves, he just watches on. But the thing is, this is on brand for him. This is what McKay looked like when he thought Sheppard had died flying the puddle jumper to the hive. He is very similar to how he seemed back then, up to him wanting to look away from Lorne but forcing himself to look dead on.

McKay also looks lost but what they are feeling is very different. McKay isn't the least bit afraid of being lost in the deep dark woods of an alien planet with an unknown assailant bearing down on them. Lorne seems to be freaking out because he's out of his depth, he doesn't know what to do. Major school definitely hadn't prepared him for this. But as freaked out as Lorne is, McKay is terrified. Not of losing contact with his commander but of losing John.

What ever comforting lies he might have told himself for the past few months, he was not ready to be here again. He was not ready to lose Sheppard. Not again.

Continued in Pt. 4

-* McKay is quoting a slogan from a recruitment ad for the US armed forces that was used in 1982-1987, which would have been during his teenage years (he would have been 14-19 years old when the ads were in active use). Now, this is not the first time that McKay seems to dig something out of his past seemingly at random, it's clear that the associative links his mind makes don't always make sense to other people. He's intelligent and idiosyncratic, is the thing.

Now, there are a few reasons he might have referenced this. For one, they're roughly the same age so he might have assumed that this ad had been among the reasons Lorne had chosen to become career military. It's also possible it had something to do with Sheppard's choice to join the military, which McKay might even know about. It could be something Sheppard had shared with him.

And given that these recruitment ads are, albeit completely unintentionally and due to the homosocial environment of the military, extremely homoerotic (in fact, when we look at gay fetish tropes, the military features heavily in these, and e.g., the leather daddy archetype ultimately derives from Hells Angels, who had their genesis in veteran fighter pilots of WW II. The Village People are a good example of the use of gay macho fantasy characters, and "men in uniforms" feature heavily in these fetishes). So, in the 1980s when internet pornography was a thing of the distant future, adolescent homosexuals frequently used such ads for... unintended purposes (the same as straight teens would use department store catalogs advertising women's apparel).

So, McKay may have intended this as a coded message here, a kind of a "secret handshake". To confirm his suspicion that this man is "one of us". His entire line of questioning is digging for information about Sheppard, and knowing whether his new second in command was a friend to Dorothy or not is a pretty important piece of information to know, all things considered. So, he's testing the waters.

But, there may have been other reasons for this particular recruitment ad to have stayed in McKay's memory and to have had meaning for him. The TV version says: "We're not a company but outstanding people come to us every day, people who want to make a contribution to a team, and do work that really counts. People eager to see new places, do the unusual, and find the unusual. People who become your friends for life, people just like you." A teenage McKay may have found this extremely appealing, and it may have contributed to his decision to start contracting for the US military instead of the private sector, like his alternate self in the SG-1 episode The Road Not Taken. He might have had a more illustrious career working for the private sector but for some reason, he had chosen the military. He probably found the routine of it comforting, given his confession that he likes military food, as told to Zelenka in Suspicion (S01E04).

McKay wants to be a part of something, wants to explore the world, wants to find people like him. All of this would have sounded very exciting to him. But at the same time, it contains things that would have been appealing to Sheppard in particular, especially the part about finding friends for life. That's what Sheppard is searching for, someone to stand by his side. Given that they are roughly the same age, the ad may have left an impression on both of them, and it may even have come up as a topic of conversation at some point.

But it might be more than that, even. The print version of the add seems to contain many things that a teenage McKay, coming from a broken home environment where his parents hated each other and took it out on him, might have found extremely appealing:

Looking for an opportunity to develop and grow as a person? You'll find it in the Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines. And that's especially true if you're smart enough to graduate from high school. You can earn responsibility in the Services. Learn to lead. Prove that you can make it. In fact, there are all kinds of opportunities for advancement. The Armed Forces can bring out the best in you -- actually help you grow better. For instance, there's even a program in which the government contributes money toward a college education. Serving in the Armed Forces is an adventure and a challenge. There are new places to see. And new friends to make. Pay is higher than ever--more than $550 a month to start. And you earn 30 days of vacation each year. Plus, the Services take care of your food, uniforms, housing and medical needs. But above all, you'll gain new confidence. Stand a little taller. Walk a little prouder. All while serving your country. And that's one of the finest things a person can do.

McKay very likely went to college on a scholarship because even if they had the means, it does not seem as though his father cared about him enough to contribute to his education. He also seems to have completed his degrees in the US, which is much more expensive than in Canada. The idea that if you're smart enough, you will be taken care of would have been comforting to teenage McKay. These are things that would not have meant as much to Sheppard, who came from a much more financially secure background. Sheppard joined the military as an act of rebellion, not out of necessity. But it's entirely possible that having read this ad as a teenager, perhaps more than once if he used what ever magazine it had come in for... other purposes, it might well have contributed, consciously or subconsciously, to McKay's decision to start contracting for the US military. It's a great place to start!

[vilevexedvixen]

What species are the flowers in Fowler's fortress?

The flower with psychoactive pollen we see in episode 6 is probably entirely fictional, and not based on any specific plant. BUT Pondering over small, inconsequential details like this seems to have become my thing, so let's consider what it could be if it IS a real flower.

Based on its shape, the flower looks either like a waterlily or a lotus.

Fowler's indoor garden seems to be either directly above or otherwise near to the kitchen. Any water features such as fountains and ponds would need to be self-contained (to avoid leaking, or rotting the wooden beams between floors). Also, given how dimly lit the windowless garden is we can assume the flower blooms in the dark / nocturnally which actually narrows down which species of flower it could be considerably.

Now, originally I had assumed no waterlily or lotus is psychoactive so considered it might be a poppy instead, with the pink poppy looking the most similar to the flower in episode 6. The flowers we see are clearly growing singularly from the garden soil, rather than floating in water the way waterlilies and lotuses do. However, not only do these flower in full sun rather than nocturnally, it also turns out that there ARE psychoactive lotus flowers. Specifically Nelumbo nucifera or the blue lily flower and Nymphaea caerulea or the blue lotus, although these too bloom in the day and close up at night.

The broader taxonomy of Nymphaea nouchali / water lily has edible psychoactive roots (containing alkaloid aporphine).

It's pretty fitting for Fowler to cultivate a nocturnally blooming flower, given his crescent moon crest. Not sure if that crest is his or that of the Genghin clan, but he dons it all the same.

With all that being said, the psychoactive effects of the flower seem to stem (heh) from its pollen, not its petals as with Nelumbo nucifera. As it happens, there is a plant native to Japan which has psychoactive pollen containing "grayanotoxins" (named after Asa Gray from the 1800s. If Fowler talked about the plants it would be very anachronistic for him to use this term, so he probably wouldn't). These are a type of neurotoxin produced by the family Ericaceae (including the rhodedendron flower - not especially similar to Fowler's flower as they tend to grow in clusters with relatively smaller flower heads), with the different isoforms (structure variations) of the grayanotoxins each flower species produces varying the plant's toxicity. Whatever grayanotoxins are in Fowler's flowers' pollen act pretty quickly so are probably on the more potent end (so probably grayanotoxin III?)

"Mad honey" can be made from pollen contaminated with grayanotoxins, but the pollen itself is still psychoactive.

Overall, no specific existing flower species seems to perfectly fit Fowler's flowers. Lotus look the closest but don't grow in the conditions shown in the show and have psychoactive roots rather than the psychoactive pollen of rhodedendron flowers. If any BES fans are botanists or specialise in plants / environmental science / botany / related sciences, I'd love to hear what you know and think would be more appropriate candidates!

[bisexual-kelsier]

Love Is Stored in the Oatmeal Raisin Cookie

On Lizzie & Ripred

The newest take I’m seeing right now, both in the TUC tags and on my “controversial TUC takes” post, is that Lizzie’s relationship with Ripred is unfounded and that the inclusion of it “robbed” us of a softer moment between Gregor and Ripred. I disagree with this take so much that I decided to write an entire essay about my thoughts on the subject. The most common argument I see against Lizzie is that she received Ripred’s affection, as well as his tragic backstory, after being present for a very short period of time, while Gregor has known Ripred for months. At a surface level, this may seem counterintuitive, but when we dig deeper into the characters and their behaviors, motivations, and allegiances, the thematic significance of Lizzie’s role in the story becomes apparent.

First and foremost, let’s take a look at Gregor. I love this kid so much, but I do believe that the core of this argument hinges on his more subtle flaws as a character. Consider this: the entirety of The Underland Chronicles is narrated from Gregor’s point-of-view. What does this mean for our perception of the story? We receive only the context that Gregor has, and we only receive the details that Gregor notices and finds important. Across the series, his understanding of the Underland and its denizens expands, grows, and solidifies. He is twelve by Code of Claw and very much still learning and growing, but some of beliefs have settled by this point.

This is where Ripred comes in. Gregor has more or less made up his mind about Ripred by the end of Curse of the Warmbloods. He wants to lead the Gnawers and will achieve that goal by any means necessary. He’s an ally, but probably not a friend, grumpy and abrasive and untouchable. Definitely not worthy of sympathy, because he can take care of himself. In short, Gregor doesn’t see Ripred as a multidimensional person, as someone with emotions outside of anger and self-importance.

In direct opposition, we have Lizzie. Upon first glance, she might seem inconsequential until Code of Claw, because her character arc is quiet and mostly happens off-screen. She’s anxious about almost everything, and the Underland puts her through a lot of trauma in the earlier books without having ever set foot down there. It took her dad from her when she was only four years old, and when he returned years later, he was ill and severely traumatized. His absence and then his inability to work meant that she grew up in poverty, spending a large portion of her childhood food insecure and without a stable home life. Similarly, the Underland suddenly took Gregor, who by that point had undertaken a parental role in the household, and Boots away on more than one occasion. These traumas were then compounded on in Curse of the Warmbloods, first when her family’s apartment was swarmed by rats and then when Grace, the stable parent and breadwinner, contracted the plague and was unable to return home.

Lizzie’s role in both Marks of Secret and Code of Claw directly opposes the effect that Gregor—and by direct extension, we as readers—expects this trauma to have on her. Lizzie is afraid of almost everything, and the Underland has harmed her directly in the past. She should approach it with fear, maybe even hostility, like Gregor does in portions of the book. Lizzie is not Gregor, though, and her key trait as a character is that she is able to see the world as a whole through different eyes. So she chooses kindness, instead.

This is where the excerpt above comes in. Lizzie has never met Ripred personally at this point, and she really only knows anything about him from Gregor’s stories—which almost certainly don’t paint Ripred in the kindest light. Lizzie sees beyond the surface of these stories, though, and considers Ripred as an entire person, with depth and emotions. What she sees between the lines is up for individual interpretation. Maybe she latches onto Ripred’s insistence that Gregor learn echolocation, a skill that might save her brother’s life. She does pester Gregor about practicing. Maybe she sees pieces of Gregor reflected in those stories about Ripred. A rager who doesn’t quite fit in where he’s from or where he’s fighting for, who can be stubborn and short-tempered and quick to hide his vulnerabilities from the people he considers himself responsible for. Maybe she sees pieces of herself reflected in those stories. Maybe, as someone who has lost pieces of her family, who has only one friend, who has likely eaten less than her share so that others could be full, she finds it easy to spot the humanity, for lack of a better word, in Ripred, like light through the crack under a locked door.

Whatever her reasons—and maybe there are no reasons beyond “he’s a person, too”—Lizzie goes out of her way to treat Ripred with kindness before she ever meets him. She sends some of her own food with Gregor so that Ripred doesn’t have to go completely hungry. She makes sure Gregor knows to share that plate of oatmeal raisin cookies with Ripred. Where Gregor rarely shows any gratefulness for his help and, in fact, rarely views him through a lens unclouded by a deeply ingrained bias against Gnawers, Lizzie is kind. Ripred notices.

This is not a matter of Ripred suddenly opening up to Lizzie for little reason after bonding with Gregor across the entire series. Ripred treats Lizzie differently because she acted differently. Their relationship is not built only on Lizzie’s similarities to Silksharp, but on a history of compassion and respect. It isn’t shoehorned in, it’s a necessary relationship that supports the central themes of The Underland Chronicles—violence, war, and colonialism are cyclical, but the refusal to continue living life based on the biases of the past can break that cycle and bring about a brighter future for everyone.

[angelofanimation]

Yeah coming up with grand Game Theory-style headcanonns about media is fun and all, but there’s something to be said about overthinking the inconsequential implications of the little details.

Example: In the Phineas and Ferb season 1 episode “Hail Doofania”, the conceit is that the A- and B-plots are swapped. It’s Doof and Norm building something fun that Vanessa tries to show her mother while PnF are building -inators and talking about “the entire Tri-State Area” and impeding Perry. You get the gist.

Except as part of her Candace impersonation, Vanessa tells Charlene, “Dad and Norm have built a floating country on the sea.” Now, since Charlene’s next line of dialogue isn’t something along the lines of “Who the fuck is Norm?”, this implies one of three things:

Charlene has heard Vanessa talk about Norm (“When I walked in, Dad and Norm were arguing about something they were building. I didn’t really care.”) and just assumes that Norm is a personal assistant Doof hired.

Charlene has heard Vanessa talk about Norm (“I wasn’t sure about it at first, but he’s a lot of fun to have around. I taught him how to play board games and he was really into it”) and assumes that Norm is a flesh-and-blood child that Doof adopted. Vanessa does treat Norm like a little brother so I think it’s possible.

My personal favorite, Charlene is fully aware that Norm is a giant robot her ex-husband built because quite frankly that’s pretty par for the course in the Dwampyverse. The only reason she never pieces together that he might be a tool for evil is that she never asked.

I swear to god I think about this specific scenario way more often than I reasonably should.

[phemestial]

merteskramer and cards: a drabble

Per watches as Chris' eyes light up, a spark of pure joy as he unwraps Per's latest offering. It’s one of those small, inconsequential things that makes Per's chest feel too tight, like there's more emotion than his body can comfortably hold. Chris examines every detail of the card, turning it over in his hands with an awe usually reserved for the rarest of treasures. Per stands nearby, hands stuffed in his pockets, trying to act casual, even though his heart pounds against his ribcage, as if it's trying to break his ribs.

Per doesn't quite understand it—the thrill that Chris gets from these cards, the way he pores over them, carefully slipping each one into protective sleeves, speaking excitedly about stats and powers that go entirely over Per's head. But that doesn't matter. What matters is the way Chris' eyes widen, his smile stretching ear to ear, his entire face brightening as if this card—this little piece of shiny cardboard—is somehow the best gift he's ever received.

And Per would be damned if he says it doesn't make him feel like he's on top of the world.

"Per… do you know what this is?" Chris asks, holding up the card, his voice filled with so much excitement it drives heat into Per's face. He blinks, feeling more than a little clueless, but he manages a small smile, shrugging like it's no big deal. (It's a huge deal.)

"Uh… a good one?" he ventures, his voice hesitant. In truth, he has no idea. He'd searched for "rare Yu-Gi-Oh! and Pokémon cards" online, found the priciest options, and hoped for the best. He's aware of how clueless he is about this—about what Chris would want, about what Chris needs from him at all. But what he does know is the warmth in Chris' smile, the brightness in his eyes when he sees what Per's brought (provided) for him. That, Per knows.

Chris laughs, shaking his head, his grin glittering under the studio's lights. "It’s not just good, it's one of the rarest from this set." He looks up at Per, and there’s something in his eyes that’s softer now, as if he knows of Per's hammering heart. "How did you know?"

Per scratches the back of his neck, trying to downplay his stuttering heart and tumbling thoughts. (It doesn't work.) "Just… a lucky guess, I suppose," he mumbles, feeling the heat creep up his neck. His chest feels tight again, the longing bubbling up his throat, and he doesn't know how long he'll be able to swallow. The truth is, he'd keep buying these rare cards forever, draining all his funds, if it meant he'd get to see Chris light up like this, if it meant Chris might linger a little longer, making Per feel more alive than he's felt in years.

Chris's gaze lingers on Per's face, searching for something more beneath Per's words, cheeks flushed, eyes glimmering. Per's heart pounds as he wonders if Chris sees through him—if Chris can sense all the feelings Per is too scared to put into words. But instead, Chris just nudges Per's shoulder, leaning in close enough that Per can feel the warmth of his skin.

"Thanks, Per," Chris says, his voice softer now, more affectionate, like velvet on Per's skin.

Per swallows, his throat dry, heart stuttering in his chest. "Anytime," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. He’d do anything to keep this—to keep Chris close, to find little ways to make him smile, to let himself imagine that maybe, one day, they won’t just be stuck in this weird limbo of unspoken words and lingering glances.

(Take me, love me, hold me.)

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

(\ (\ („• ֊ •„) ♡ ━O━O━━━━━ for @neuerswaist / @snowyowlee / @wusialaforeva

[theplatypusblue]

Ok uh making a little post about how the realm crystal is cool and epic 👍

So like basically the FSM is trapped in the first realm right? And there's this endless conflict between the oni and dragon and they each want him to join their respective side yeah? And he obviously doesn't wanna do that, but also he can't just... not pick a side. They won't let him get away that easily. So basically he's gotta get outta here, but he can't really do that either. Dragon's are the only beings that are able to travel freely between realms, and he probably can't ask for their help without "being on their side" first. He's only half-dragon, so he can't do it himself either.

So how's he gonna get out of this? Realm Crystal baby.

He uses the realm crystal to escape, which is like, kind of a big deal, right? Like I said, dragons are really the only beings who are able to do that kind of thing, but now, anyone could do it with the power of the realm crystal (theoretically). That's like, a lot of power for one person to have. But it's also a big deal because now he's free. He doesn't have to worry about any big war, he doesn't have to think about hurting anyone he might care about. He has this brand-new, relatively-peaceful world at his disposal. And it's all thanks to the realm crystal. He must have been so happy once he got out.

So basically what I'm saying is: The First Spinjitzu Master took the realm crystal with him to his grave not just because it was an important artifact for the entire 16 realms, but also because it was important to him personally, as the thing that allowed him to make a life for himself outside of his parents' stupid war.

(Stupid little side note: i looked it up on the wiki because I realized I didn't actually know for sure, and apparently the fsm created the realm crystal himself, which is like. cool. I like the idea of it being one of his first big "creations," and then him using it to escape his shitty life situation. it's a mostly inconsequential detail. But I also think my initial assumption of him essentially stumbling upon this Super Convenient MacGuffin when he's at his breaking point, using it to escape, and then Clinging Onto It Literally Until The Day He Dies is also kind of neat. and drives me nuts a little bit.)

[viillette]

it's so crazy how few historical fiction novels are like sharon kay penman's. the way that they're built out of the skeleton of the historical record seems so obvious, but there's so few people who are actually willing to commit to it in the way that she did. it seems like so often that's just a starting point which gets reformed to fit a coherent narrative, but she makes no real attempt to do that. there's themes and foils and patterns, but first and foremost it is a reconstruction. you can't really know what someone who lived that long ago was like, only what they did, and you can feel how she takes these isolated, dramatic events and builds a whole life around them. the books are nothing more than an answer to the question 'what might someone have been like, what could the history between these people have been, to possibly explain something like this?' the ability to string together a handful of facts and events from medieval chronicles to create people that feel so real, and psychology and relationships that develop so naturally that these distant, seemingly impenetrable choices suddenly feel so immediate and clear is just beyond belief. you know this probably wasn't actually how things happened, but it doesn't matter because it was something like this. the particulars are less important the crushing awareness that at one point all of this made sense. there was a time when all of this was right now. the world is unrecognizable and exactly the same. that's something which sounds very simple but is incredibly difficult to accomplish.

you come to know these people so well, their loves and hatreds and ambitions and failures, and those things are rarely resolved in the end. you know them from the time that they're children, you watch each one of them die, and none of it means anything in particular except that they were a human being. things which seem like they must be building to some tragic fallout end in anticlimax. things which seem utterly inconsequential in the moment manifest again decades later in cataclysmic disaster. and then you see it all play out again from the beginning with their children, and their children's children. all these uncanny echoes, this endlessly unfolding palimpsest of lives, each laid over the triumphs and mistakes of those who came before. i've never read anything so epic with so much mastery over the micro and macro levels of history. it's the minute, seemingly inconsequential everyday details, which build into a lifetime, which builds into generation of lives, which builds into the rise and fall of kingdoms and empires. it's the merciless endlessly turning wheel of fortune that replays the same songs in different keys again and again for all time. a person is both an individual with free will, and the prisoner of their blood and circumstances. somehow everything has infinite weight, is tied to everything that has come before and will come after, is the culmination of someone's entire existence—their pains and joys and fears and hopes—and yet is simultaneously completely meaningless, just one more victim of fate in an endless procession of lives and choices. the whole impotent tragedy of humanity is laid out in front of you and it's so repulsive and beautiful. it's deep love and unfathomable, senseless horror briefly and miraculously reverberating in a vacuum, an absurd aberration fading into silence.

if it's not obvious these books have made me cry like 10 different times

[anthurak]

Something that I’ve found makes theorizing for Loona a lot of fun is that for the most part, her entire background is one big black-box up to when Blitzo adopted her. Like we have no idea how long Loona was in that orphanage, or WHAT landed her in that orphanage, or what she was doing BEFORE that. The only thing we can say for certain is that things were BAD for her. As in, right up there with what we’ve seen from Blitzo and Moxxie in the fucked-up department. Possibly even worse.

Now sure, we can see some similarities to Blitzo in Loona, such as how she uses an abrasive personality to keep people at a safe distance, which could be a clue that Loona went through something similar to her father. But the thing is, we can just as easily point to most similarities as things Loona has picked up from Blitzo in the four-ish years since he adopted her.

It's also worth noting that Blitzo has almost certainly sees a lot of similarities between himself and Loona. BUT, it's worth keeping in mind that this is likewise almost certainly simply due to their first meeting absolutely SLAMMING Blitzo's sympathetic trauma response button. I wouldn't be surprised at all if it turns out that many of the seeming parallels between these two are largely surface level, and the deeper we dive into Loona's past, the more differences we'll find.

At this point, I’d say the only specific hint we might have towards something in Loona’s background is her oddly detailed and specific hypothetical shitty family she describes in Murder Family. After all, we now have two cases of seemingly inconsequential lines from that episode ("Maybe like a shitty dad... or a mob family. That's understandable", "We're just killing a mother. We're ruining a family") turning out to be major hints to a character’s background.

And the funny thing is, I get the feeling that this is all quite deliberate as a writing choice. As in, nobody else both in-series and the audience is meant to actually know anything about Loona’s background. Like I think it’s a pretty safe bet that not even Blitzo actually knows anything specific about Loona’s past before he adopted her. Loona has always been closed-off, and I get the sense that Loona starting to bond/open-up to Blitzo is something VERY recent. So I really doubt Loona has ever felt comfortable letting anything slip to Blitzo about her past.

Which all gives me the since that Loona’s backstory is going to make for a significant reveal both in and out of universe. Particularly given that at this point we have a pretty good sense of Blitzo’s, Moxxie’s and Millie’s backgrounds, but barely more than a HINT at Loona’s. It all gives me the vibe of something Vivzie and co. are keeping under-wraps in the background before springing it on us when we least expect it.

As far as specific theories/headcanons go, I’ve personally got two in mind:

Theory 1: EXTREMELY Shitty Family. Loona was given up by her parents pretty much at birth for adoption, and the family that took her in was actually super abusive. Tying into her line in Murder Family, Loona got set on fire a lot. Eventually, Loona either got away or outright killed her tormentors to escape, after which she ended up in the orphanage system.

Theory 2: Freaky Cult Shit. Loona was born into some really messed up cult and got subjected to some pretty fucked-up shit before she managed to get away, probably killing quite a few people in the process. Personally, I prefer this one as it has more potential as a plotline in the present of the show, and could tie nicely into a few of the subtler details of Loona’s character, such as her being a clear prodigy when it comes to magic, and her oddly specific thematic ties to the Goetic Grimoire...

[lesbianalanwake]

Re: dark presence rehabilitation, I was wondering... like, what's the goal? (this is based on my personal understanding which might be wrong.)

overall its goal seems to be to escape the dark place? but at the same time it seems like it wants to turn the outside world into something similar to the dark place, a neverending nightmare fueled by people's subconscious. specifically Scratch seems like a bit of a megalomaniac (I will make the entire world worship Alan's (my) writing forever!) (so much fun, geez...) - but... what's the point of escaping then? Scratch himself says in AN smth along the lines of a drop of darkness being absolutely inconsequential in the dark place, but so noticeable and fun in our mostly light world.

so, my suggestion is that the dark presence can stay outside but it ?should limit itself to smaller horrors. spice of life. a nightmare here, a nightmare there. Cats 2 (2025).

FHGHSKGHS drip-feeding the Dark Presence with minor horror allowances to keep it happy. it can ruin Hollywood. for Barry's sake.

it depends on what the Dark Presence and the Dark Place actually are. that could go a couple of ways. I could not even begin to guess which direction. scattered thoughts:

I prefer an explanation like "x entity became corrupted" over anything "inherent." it is man who is evil.

I'm continually wondering if the Dark Presence is, or is part of, a greater entity that got lost/corrupted.

AW2 describes the Dark Place as a mirror. I think the place that we see and experience might only be a sliver - a cracked and corrupted shard, if you will, because it doesn't always produce only suffering and misery and madness. just most of the time. so maybe Presence and Place are both parts of some greater ocean that got metaphysically landlocked.

maybe the Dark Presence is some kind of spirit of the Dark Place, and corruption in one leads to corruption in the other. so where did it start, if they weren't always like that?

the green/red Polaris/Hiss color scheme is all over AW2. Scratch is red like the Hiss. why is the Dark Presence so similar to the Hiss. what does it FUCKING mean, Sam.

(I have been thinking "the Hiss wasn't originally Like That" since I first played Control. something something the Hiss being embodied in Dylan who wasn't originally Like That either. so that makes me wonder even more about the Dark Presence, when they share those similarities. I cannot stop thinking about the apparently dead world that Hedron et al. came from. about the implication that something is eating away at the Oldest House, that its roots are withering. about the apparently empty world of the Quarry and the City. about how empty and occasionally extraordinarily violent the Astral Plane is when we see how full of life and personality the Altered Items are and how many of them don't really mean harm. about what might have made the Dark Place like that. what the fuck is happening out there in the conceptual reality behind this reality.)

there is the possible implication that the Diver had some hand in creating Scratch? maybe? but that goes back to the question of what the Diver is - Zane, the light/Bright Presence, something else. and what the goal is there. who knows.

I've said this elsewhere but I think Scratch in AWAN is more like. a ghoulish sliver of the Dark Presence mimicking reality like Jagger does, a finger of a giant hand trying to manipulate things. whereas Scratch in AW2 is the Dark Presence more fully embodied and also lost in the sauce. and it has fucked up big time by trying to use Alan to escape, tying itself too closely to him, to the point that even its grand escape is distorted by details of Alan's life. I don't think Evil Deerfest is necessarily what it might have originally wanted, but rather a sign that Dark Presence and Alan have overlapped to the point that Alan is changing it. like it's stuck in the Scratch persona now. has put on a skin that it struggles to take off. (but that's just a game theor--)

like. maybe it wasn't always a rabid beast of an entity and the Dark Place wasn't always a nightmare hell world, or maybe it's always wanted to get out of the Dark Place and doesn't necessarily have roots there. but over time Dark Presence/Place have absorbed and reflected so much of whatever corruption is going on that now Presence/Place want to make a distorted fun house mirror out of everything.

except. now the Dark Presence is not solely mirroring and reflecting corruption and "darkness" anymore. it's starting to mirror Alan even after it jumps out of his body, and, like Dylan being the narrative focus of physical embodiment for the Hiss, Alan is a (relatively) normal person who has been trapped and isolated for a very long time, which does strange things to a person. Barbara was just a sweet woman who got very unlucky. maybe the Dark Presence used to be similar. Evil Deerfest is strangely bright. we've seen it change, a little bit. something is going on there.

so I would like to see something a little more nuanced than "killing the evil" or whatever. (especially when it was all that Jesse and Polaris could do just to shut the door on the Hiss. ain't no way it's that easy.)

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

So I finished The Faithless a bit ago and I've been putting off writing about it because, to my great disappointment, I didn't like it very much. I don't think it's necessarily bad by it's own merits (mostly), but as a sequel to The Unbroken, it was deeply disappointing. Spoilers to follow.

So there were a couple of things that I didn't love back when I first read the Unbroken. I thought the use of Unremarkable Queerness was a disappointing missed opportunity, that an exploration of the differences in cultural attitudes towards sex and gender would've enriched the book's thesis as well as Touraine's own journey as a queer woman raised under one culture reconnecting with the one she was stolen from. I also thought that, while using magic to represent culture - and specifically to use Luca's hunger for Shal magic as a critique of "well-intentioned" cultural appropriation, and Balladaire's lack of magic to represent the way culture is flattened by Empire - was a strong choice, choosing to make magic the exclusive domain of religion created the implication, deliberate or otherwise, that what was really wrong with Balladaire was that they'd turned their back on their traditional faith, which was not a message I cared for. All that being said, I found these issues pretty easy to ignore, because the book had a much more powerful central idea to explore, and its examination of a stolen, abused, indoctrinated victim of colonialism reconnecting with her homeland, as well as its exploration of the ways even genuinely kind-hearted and well-meaning colonialists inflict monumental atrocities, were extremely compelling. The Unbroken had ideas to share, question to pose and answer, and a message powerful enough to render my critiques inconsequential.

The same cannot be said for The Faithless. Based on the framing of the book, I expected to get an exploration of the political relationship between a colonizing nation and it's newly independent ex-colony. I thought we might get some examination of the difficulty of establishing international credibility for a new nation, of arranging favorable partnerships and trade deals in a world where you are seen as not just potentially unstable and with little of value economically, but as literal lesser people. I expected whatever approach it took to this framing device, it would be sharp, incisive, and timely. But it wasn't. Ultimately, the framing device was just a framing device, and the majority of the page count was spent on trying to learn the truth about Balladairen magic and Luca's bid to keep the throne, with the question of economic and political relations hung entirely on whether she or her uncle ended up in charge.

There were some details which gestured at the kind of themes that I'd been looking forward to, but the key words there are "details" and "gestured". Touraine's uncomfortable socializing with Balladairen nobles; cool, we already knew that! How does that discomfort affect her ability as an ambassador to make favorable connections and advance the interests of the people she represents? Don't know, she doesn't really try, beyond reminding Luca occasionally that her interest in getting Luca on the throne isn't altruistic. There's a Balladairen revolutionary movement born of economic disenfranchisement and the fear of free Shalans "stealing" resources. Okay that's interesting! What does their organizational structure look like? How many people can they mobilize? What are their economic and political aims, what's their plan for enacting it? How does Touraine feel about a bunch of people who share many of the same grievances as her people, but that unjustly blame her people for their problems? Don't know, none of that comes up. Their only plot function is to try to kill Luca and make her paranoid about her uncle. There's the Droitist school system that traumatized and conditioned Touraine! They take down one school, but acknowledge that it's a problem that can't be solved on an individual level. What kind of systemic changes need to be made? What obstacles are there? How can they be overcome or subverted? All of that gets pushed firmly onto the "once I'm queen" plate. I could go on. Ultimately, the elements that should have been the core of the story and themes become backdrop to a personal drama between Luca, Nicholas, Touraine, and Sabine. And it's functional enough, but it doesn't have anywhere near the originality or emotional resonance or drive that the plot of the previous book did.

Also, without a strong plot to take center stage, my nitpicks took up more of my attention, and the continuation of the story exacerbated some of the problems I had with them. With regards to unremarkable queerness: the central struggle of this book is over who is going to take over the throne of a hereditary monarchy. Am I supposed to believe that the fact that Luca regularly has sex with different partners, has no interest in getting a consort, and has no blood heir, compared to her uncle, who has a recognized blood heir, is of no consequence in a power struggle over a hereditary monarchy? And if there are cultural values or structure that make that a non issue, I would love to see them explored! I'd be fascinated to know where they come from and how they impact the rest of society! The conflation of magic, culture, and religion didn't end up going the direction I was concerned about, but it also became extremely muddy about what exactly it was trying to say. We learn that Balladairen magic still exists amongst the commons, but we also learn that the large scale type of magic that ensured good harvests was powered by human sacrifice, which is something that no one, including our antagonists, want to resume. So if Balladaire killed its religion for good, justifiable reasons, how does that square with the previous book's presentation as magic being a deeply integral part of culture, with its theft or suppression being an act of near genocide? It muddies the waters, and it ends up feeling like the author wanted to just treat this book as more conventional speculative fantasy fiction rather than a continuation of the themes explored in the first book. Ultimately, I think, that's what I'm really disappointed about. I came to The Faithless excited for a continuation of the deep exploration of colonialism in The Unbroken, and I got a much less grounded piece of speculative fantasy fiction.

[rubberduckyrye]

I'll keep that all in mind, thanks!

Unfortunately when I say I have to reference it for plot reasons that was genuine, the thing that requires it is so small yet so narratively important that I can't just completely cut it out. Nor can I consult you cause the context is literally the biggest spoiler of this entire story. (I know that explanation sounds bad without context but please trust me it's not nearly as bad as it sounds ;-;)

Luckily I've already thought up some alternatives to put it in the far background. I'll definitely rework it alot though. Thanks for the advice! :D

I mean... Again, since you're remaking Angie's background story, I really recommend thinking long and hard about the inclusion of any blood ritual in her culture, and if it's actually so important to the plot that you can't come up with something else, like the newly weds gifting each other their most precious items instead. Something so important that it attaches to their very soul. Something like that. Or, you can look up native Hawaiian traditions regarding the union of two people. That sort of thing.

You are in total control of your story. You aren't trapped by the narrative or are helpless to it. You are the author, making the decisions. You essentially a god of your own story, and you can do with it whatever you please. This single detail of a blood ritual--it's probably not as important to your story as you think it is. It can, and should, be reworked and erased for this context. You should always rework a problematic aspect of your story, no matter how integral you think it is to the plot.

For example: When I first made my OC, Jaden, I gave him the wrong hair texture for a black character. I gave him 3A-3B curls, because I was mistaken and believed that any race could have any hair texture and that hair texture wasn't necessarily a "race" thing (for context, I grew up with a very White cousin who had coily/Afro hair (and no it wasn't a perm, her hair was just really curly and coily despite being white as hell), and often saw black girls with straightened hair in school with most black boys and men shaving their heads. I've since learned from this, but it happens.)

I was later corrected by my partner, Celest, and I immediately jumped to defend the hairstyle design I chose. I had convinced myself it was important to his character to have these kinds of curls, even to the point where when I "gave in" and gave him the right texture, I insisted he straightened it and styled it the same.

However, I knew I was kidding myself and that the hair style wasn't really a "queer effeminate black man curling his hair" thing. It was me being attached to a natural hair style that was just not for a black character like him.

So, I finally changed it. And you know what happened?

Nothing.

The hair style for Jaden was FAR more inconsequential than I had ever imagined it to be. Literally did nothing to the story to change up his hair from curls to twists. From there, I've messed around with other Afro hair styles for him (like rag curls and giving him an Afro puff when he's older), and it helped me grow as an artist, a writer, and a character designer to overcome that initial stage of "Oh no, this problematic aspect of my story/character design is too important to edit out, it needs to stay!"

I am sorry if this sounds harsh, but it is something that you REALLY need to think long and hard about. I'm assuming by your last paragraph that you might have something else in mind, but I thought that this really needs to be said as well.

[colorfuldream]

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off is genuinely the best version that has come out apart from maybe the game. It's funny, well-done, has the same themes but done better, it's fresh, anyone can watch it, etc. It's a better experience than the rest. Whatever you could criticize the original story and movie for, it's been "fixed".

If you were out off by the pacing of the first episode, it gets better and almost completely disappear by the second episode and never comes back! I don't know why it was paced like this. It didn't work. It felt like a drag and made the animation look and feel a lot worse. It wasn't made to be like this so it's at its worse for an entire half-hour. It's not even mimicking the strange pacing of the movie. It might have attempted to but if so, it utterly failed. It sucks because the entire thing is very, very good. It's like they weren't sure how to pull off the stylization and tried to do something new with the pacing again but messed up which dragged both down. At least, they figured it out almost immediately and fixed it early on!

Spoilers ahead:

The exes are also a delight and wonderfully dramatic and pathetic. They're over the top but in an endearing way and we get interactions never seen before and that would only be in fanfics and seem like a stretch but here they're seamless. They just make sense. Plus Ramona actually making amends and healing is amazing to see. She never got to have that. Now, she gets to go beyond the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope she's the poster girl of. We know she is one, and it's obvious in the way her exes see her, but she gets her own agency. She ends up being the protagonist and that somehow makes the plot function a lot better and interesting.

Knives also becomes her own character and grows into her own WITHOUT SCOTT. This time, she's truly past him for most of the anime.

The only thing that I miss, from the top of my head, is the "Scott has perceived his past and his previous actions wildly differently from what actually happened and is a bigger asshole than he and we thought" part that sort of paralleled Ramona who thought that everything was no big deal and that they had all moved on from the inconsequential thing that was their relationship with her too. Here, Ramona is a lot more self-aware, maybe because she's forced to be and is confronted with her past more directly, and makes quick amends. She might have been a terrible partner before but she's not bad at emotional stuff when she doesn't shrug it off. It's a neat detail that would have been even better if the Scott aspect remained and it bounced off the whole "Scott is a terrible partner who does care but is very stupid and would rather die than talk about feelings". Crazy how a simple flashback sequence, barely a few lines, changed a lot of things. Or maybe I missed the point of the scene only known to ultra fans and Kim was just being nice and graceful to Scott especially because she thought he fucking died. Liked how she seemed a lot more over him too, it always almost felt ambiguous before to me.

So yeah, it's a very good show and the best Scott Pilgrim thing. Bet people went crazy over the game and movie references too.

[noodleblade]

Chance and Unlikely Circumstance 4/6

(chapter centered around the episode The Human Factor)

Previous Part AO3 Link

Smokescreen watched the slow, steady tick of his chronometer in absolute silence. At night, along the dusty stretch of highway, there was not a single sound save for the occasional gust of wind kicking up the arid sand. It hissed as it dragged along his frame, leaving microscopic scratches in his finish. 

“Premium grade liquid wax would help sustain the integrity of your finish; the skinjobs have mastered that, at least. You could do with a buff or two. Maybe a repaint. White is awfully boring. Have you considered orange? Maybe just continue on with the blue.”

Smokescreen let out a heavy exvent as the words echoed in his processor. 

Three nights had passed since K.O.’s abrupt departure. There had been no sign of the other mech since. In truth, not an exorbitant amount of time had passed, but after meeting up every night cycle for nearly an entire Earth month, the sudden break in their routine was…jolting. 

As much as Smokescreen had thought he’d prepare himself for K.O.’s eventual farewell, it did little to soften the blow of his absence. Perhaps he had fooled himself into thinking their arrangement could last forever. Perhaps he had grown too reliant on the easy, comfortable friendship that had formed. Perhaps he had been mistaken in thinking the feeling was mutual.

Smokescreen pushed those thoughts away forcefully. He shouldn’t let doubt sully their friendship. All those races and each and every conversation were not for nothing . He had to have some faith that those meant as much to K.O. as they did to him. He couldn’t let his own downward spiraling thoughts take him down that road when K.O.’s absence might be something simple and inconsequential and have nothing to do with Smokescreen.

Maybe K.O. had to deal with something important and it was just taking time. Maybe K.O. needed to stay low for a while and couldn’t risk meeting again. Maybe K.O.’s elusive partner returned. If it were any of those options, Smokescreen hoped it was the latter. K.O. did promise they could meet once his partner returned.

Well, okay. Maybe not promise , but he didn’t seem opposed when Smokescreen had suggested it! If anything, there had been interest and hope in K.O.’s field that one day that could be a possibility. 

Smokescreen decided that must be the reason. K.O. was too busy being reunited with his partner. He attempted to picture the unnamed mech, but K.O. had been pretty lax on the details, only calling him bulky. Whatever he looked like, Smokescreen hoped they were both barreling down a long stretch of highway together. The very thought of it lightened his spark greatly.

A gentle ping came from his HUD and Smokescreen immediately felt his tanks drop at Ratchet’s designation. It was never a good sign when he was called in the midst of patrol. 

::Smokescreen, where are you? Return to base, ASAP. We got a situation.:: 

Perhaps it was for the best K.O. and his partner were together tonight. Afterall, a “situation” almost certainly meant Decepticons and Smokescreen was itching for the chance to kick some aft.

--

A heavy energy hung over the Autobots. 

Smokescreen felt antsy, his wheels aching to spin and his doorwings twitching. After the night they just had, he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to recharge peacefully for quite some time, despite Ratchet’s insistence that he get some rest. Adrenaline still pulsed through his circuits, his processor still trying to understand what he had witnessed. 

He waited until the base grew quiet, waited for the flurry of activity to settle and everyone separated. Bee was quick to volunteer to go out for patrol, Acree disappeared to watch over the Darby residence, and Ratchet and Optimus had excused themselves into a private hab for a meeting. Only Bulkhead remained; his optics staring off into the distance, unfocused and deep in thought. 

Quietly, Smokescreen saddled up to the larger mech. He perched himself on a crate beside him and tentatively let his field brush against his. A weak, barely there flicker was returned and Smokescreen took that as good as any sign that his presence was welcomed. Since their fight with the human-mech monstrosity, Bulkhead had been quiet. Smokescreen was still trying to wrap his processor around it but at least he hadn’t known the bot personally. Not like Bulkhead did. 

“Were you friends?” 

He asked the question softly, simply letting the words hang in the air. He didn’t want to press or bother Bulkhead, but curiosity was killing him. 

Bulkhead swiveled his helm, almost surprised to see Smokescreen beside him. His field pressed back against Smokescreen’s purposefully, awareness and familiarity mingling in the space between. A heavy exvent left the mech’s intake, his frame sagging in exhaustion, almost painfully so. 

“Once. Long time ago.” 

Bulkhead scrubbed at his optics with the heel of his servo as he returned his gaze straight ahead. Smokescreen followed his example and kept his optics focused on the wall before them. 

After a lengthy silence, Smokescreen hesitantly asked, “What happened?”

“When you pick different sides, it tends to ruin friendships. Like I said, it was a long time ago. Probably knew him longer as an enemy and a ‘con than a friend. He…made a lot of mistakes, did some things I can never really forgive but…doesn’t really matter, still ain’t right what happened to him.” A moment of heavy silence hung between them. The air around them was heavy, pressing against his helm. Smokescreen barely caught the muttering of, “I wonder if his partner knows.”

Dread seeped into Smokescreen’s lines as he tried not to react to that word. 

Partner . 

He couldn’t help but think of the red speedster along the dusty stretch of road, alone and his missing partner, field awash in anger, grief, desperation. Smokescreen wanted to chalk it up as a coincidence, that there are two pairs of mechs missing their partners. Surely it was fluke, surely what he experienced tonight had nothing to do with K.O. 

“Partner?” Smokescreen asked quietly. Maybe if he whispered, then Bulkhead wouldn’t hear him and then he wouldn’t have to hear an answer and maybe he’d never have to find out-

“Flashy, red speedster.” Bulkhead spat each word out in anger, each word piercing Smokescreen’s spark. “Breakdown was smitten with him from the moment he laid eyes on him. I told him a mech like that was only going to get him in trouble. But he was stubborn as Pits and scrap at listening.” Bulkhead covered his optics with his servo and leaned back. Another heavy exvent rattled his frame before he continued, the anger absent from his words and replaced with solemn resignation. “Guess they were happy for a while. I didn’t think a mech like Knock Out would stick around long term but from what I gathered they never parted since. I’d almost feel bad if he weren’t a ‘con.”

Knock Out…K.O.

There was no more convincing himself of this being purely coincidence. Not anymore. There were too many points of connection, too much evidence stacking up. Smokescreen wasn’t sure what was worse: unknowingly, unwittingly befriending a Decepticon this whole time or feeling the painful grief in his spark knowing the loss K.O. was experiencing. 

Befriending. 

They probably were never friends. The Decepticon probably knew who he was the whole time and was just playing him like a fool. Probably was hoping Smokescreen would be dumb enough to drop some key intel. Who knows! Maybe he would have too, a couple more races there, a few more sentimental conversations there. Smokescreen probably would have played right into his servo like the bumbling fool he was.

“See kid, too trusting. It’s going to bite you in the aft one day, just you wait.”

K.O.- Knock Out - had even warned him. Smokescreen wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Strangely enough, neither option felt particularly worthwhile. 

He wanted to feel worse about it. He wanted to be angry; he wanted to be hurt; he wanted to feel the acidic sting betrayal…but all Smokescreen felt was sympathy and sorrow. Even if Knock Out was playing him this whole time, the mech still lost his partner. Smokescreen could still remember the pain in his field, the ire, the isolation, the loneliness. Knock Out may have fabricated his relationship with Smokescreen, but his feelings for his partner, for Breakdown , had been real and earnest. 

“You think he knows?” Smokescreen finally asked. Last time they had talked, Knock Out didn't know where his partner was at all. No one else had seemed to even care. 

“You know what’s funny? You are the first one to offer, to even ask.”

“If Knock Out didn’t before, he is most definitely aware now,” Bulkhead grimaced. “I’m sure the ‘cons are dealing with it as we speak.”

“At least, he can give him funeral rites.” 

Smokescreen remembered reading about them all. Each city had its own traditions from the flypasts of Vos to ceremonial recordings of Iacon. Whatever the city, they all boiled down to the same thing: a time for mourning and remembrance. Surely, Decepticons would still uphold those values. Especially in regards to fallen partners. 

Bulkhead laughed, surprisingly jovial despite the grotesque monstrosity they had witnessed. “I’m sure Knock Out will give Silas and Breakdown what they deserve.” Upon seeing Smokescreen’s confusion, Bulkhead leaned in. “Knock Out is a possessive, controlling, selfish glitch. If anyone was going to give Silas righteous punishment, then it’ll be that horrible, violent chop-shop medic.”

Smokescreen grimaced. He tried to imagine Knock Out as an evil surgeon, saw in servo and manic glee in his optics. Instead, all he saw was a lonely mech, crushed with a loss Smokescreen hoped he would never understand. 

“You think it’ll help him?”

Bulkhead raised an optic ridge, meeting Smokescreen’s gaze for the first time since this conversation began. “Should we care?”

It was a pointed question, asking something deeper than the words stated. Smokescreen simply shrugged, ducking his helm. 

“Doesn’t make what happened right.”

Bulkhead’s field softened. A heavy servo made its way to Smokescreen’s shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. 

“No, it doesn’t. Breakdown was a lot of things but he never deserved that. No one does. And as horrible as Knock Out is, they were close.” Bulkhead gave his shoulder another squeeze. “Ain’t much we can do about it. At least, despite everything Knock Out is, he’ll put Breakdown to rest. I have got no doubts about that.”

Smokescreen nodded his helm as silence came once more. His spark still hurt. He could hear Knock Out’s words echoing in his helm.

“He’s not dead.”

Knock Out had been so sure, so furious at even the mere suggestion. He must be devastated. 

Smokescreen wished there was a way he could contact Knock Out. Even if they were to never meet again, to just let him know he was sorry for everything. He knew his words were meaningless. 

 “I don’t need your sympathies .”

Nothing he could say would make things right. Nothing he could do would turn back time. Nothing he had to offer would fix what was beyond repair. And even if he had the chance to see Knock Out again, Smokescreen had the sinking suspicion the red speedster would be on the other side of enemy lines.

--

Rage could only carry him for so long. Knock Out peered down at the parasite living in the husk with his partner with complete and utter disgust. 

Oh, he had been more than tempted to cut the infestation away. The buzzing urge beneath his plating to take the rotary saw and cut and cut and cut until it was all removed. He considered disposal by fire, burning away any lasting attempts the disease may have to survive. The airlock was also tempting. Rumor had it the flesh bags didn’t dwell too well in the cold grasp of space.

Revenge, however, kept his servos at bay. If the human got to see what the inner components of a Cybertronian really were, it was only fair Knock Out was allowed reciprocal exploration of the organic frame and there were many, many tests to run.

What was the earthly saying? “What’s yours is mine, body and soul.” Well, the soul was the human’s spark and Breakdown’s was long gone and snatched away. But Knock Out still had ownership of the body and all it possessed. A stale kindness from Megatron after accepting this gruesome nightmare into their fold.

The very thought of it burned in Knock Out’s spark chamber. Megatron had allowed this festering sickness into their rank, welcomed it with open arms while it puppeteered Breakdown’s corpse in a sick and twisted mimicry of life. Megatron had left Breakdown for dead before, and hadn't even been concerned when he had gone missing again. No one had. No one had even spared him a second thought. Only Knock Out.

“Want to look for him? I could help! I know the area pretty good and two mechs are better than one.”

And a lone, foolish Autobot.

Knock Out could still feel Smokescreen’s field, too honest and earnest in his emotions. He can’t help but wonder if he took the kid up on his offer if things may have been different. Emphatically, he knew that was not true. The human’s integration into the Cybertronian form was weeks old. By the time Smokescreen had offered, Breakdown was already gone. He would have been too late either way, but at least then he would have had agency. He wouldn’t have had to watch the corpse of his partner ambulate and move. He could have ripped out the pathetic, weak flesh and blood spark right then and there and then-

And then.

Knock Out felt a full body tremor rake through his frame, his plating shuddering. He was alone either way. 

“You have me too.”

The overly optimistic and earnest image of Smokescreen centered in his processor. He’d only see the naive little Autobot in his root mode once, but he could picture it well enough. Classic Paxian frame with every idealistic Autobot propaganda drenched in his processor. 

According to Silas, Smokescreen had aided good Ol’ Bulkhead in sending him to his defeat. Knock Out wondered if the kid had realized who he was yet. For all his naivety, Smokescreen was smarter than he gave himself credit for. Foolish and perhaps a tad too excitable, sure, but once he took a moment to think, Smokescreen would piece it all together and then…well, he definitely couldn’t continue meeting with the kid now. 

If he turned up now, he’d surely find Arcee or Bulkhead waiting for him instead. Or worse, Smokescreen would be waiting with yet another offer to join the Autobots. He could hear him now, feel his warm field of genuine sympathy. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Knock Out let out a hollow, empty laugh. 

It echoed in his lonely medbay. Knock Out had temporarily gotten used to the still quiet during Breakdown’s disappearance, but now that Breakdown’s absence was permanent , the silence was unbearable. Gone was the deep rumble of a warm, familiar engine; absent were the deep laughs and the gruff words, the whispered jokes and the murmuring of sweet nothings. Nothing remained of his partner, except his shell, tainted and destroyed at the hands of meddling skinjobs. 

They should have never landed on his vile planet, just ignored Starscream’s call and continued gallivanting across the stars. Breakdown had suggested it once, a quiet midnight musing about maybe taking off on their own and fending for themselves. Knock Out had waved it away instantly. The protection and security of the Decepticons was too great an offer to pass out. How foolish he had been to put trust into that. 

“That naivety of yours is going to get you killed.”

He should have heeded his own advice. Instead of getting himself killed, it-

Knock Out stopped that train of thought immediately, shuttering his optics and forcing air to cycle through his vents. 

It didn’t matter anymore. 

Nothing did.