#he says something about how she was unpopular when she ran

[gwyoi]

Cope-ala because I’m just imagining crazy scenarios with her debating trump

[sephirthoughts]

Vincent’s lingering obsession with Lucrecia is excellent drama, but their story is not a doomed romance.

This is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Lucrecia deserves nearly as much pity and excusing of her actions as she gets. This is not character-hate post, it's an analysis of a character I think gets short shrift as a Mother-Mary in a bell jar, and deserves better.

Lucrecia is morally grey. Charcoal grey. I love complex, morally grey characters, particularly when they're women, since usually women are relegated to roles that infantilize and objectify them, particularly in video games, which have historically been a very backward, androcentric medium. I strongly dislike brainless victims, subject to the whims of the male characters, without much agency, and Lucrecia was not such a character.

Lucrecia was an adult with agency and brains. She was a grown ass adult. She was a brilliant scientist. She made decisions with her eyes open, and even sacrificed her unborn child to her work. She is a very interesting character. The fact that she didn't idolize motherhood as the end-all of female existence, and that her obsession with her work was stronger than her desire to be a 'good mother' makes her far more interesting than otherwise. The fact that she regretted it later and wanted him back doesn’t magically make her a good person, or change the choices she made. It demonstrates guilt and remorse, which are part of character development. The bottom line is that she committed atrocities in the name of science, then felt guilty about it later, once she realized how devastating the consequences were to her personally. To say she didn’t know what she was doing or Hojo manipulated or controlled her is to infantilize and disrespect her character. She’s not some sacrificial angel who was a victim of circumstances; she was a willing participant in her own downfall.

Lucrecia is a tragic character, but she's not a romantic lead. Except in Vincent's head. After all was said and done, she had one of those too-late changes of heart that make tragedy so emotionally impactful. She had a human reaction to Vincent's death and felt terribly guilty for her role in all of it, as she should. That doesn't mean she loved him, it means she wasn't a monster. She lost her son, and gradually, Hojo's callous inhumanity and her inability to escape the net she wove with her own hands closed in on her. Did she deserve to never hold her baby son and never see him even once? No. But she caused it, with her own actions. That's tragedy. She was miserable, bereft, and riddled with guilt, so she made a last-ditch effort to make something right...by doing more insane science shit that turned Vincent into a monster. Seeing that she'd only made everything worse, she tried to kill herself, but was unable to, and thus ran off to become a crystal statue in a cave (this is a trope that I dislike, but that's the story, so that's what we've got).

Vincent is a bad judge of the circumstances. Vincent persists in seeing her as a lost love, and someone from whom he was unjustly separated by circumstances. The fact that he is so blinded by his feelings for her that he places her on this pedestal and can't blame her for what she did is excellent characterization, and I love it, but it's because he’s wrong. He loved her. She didn’t love him (I think she was in love with his father, but that's just icing on the tragedy cake, at this point). His lingering attachment, not to the real Lucrecia, but to the idealized version of her he has in his mind, is a very sad reality that adds so much delicious pain to his character. In the end, he is unable to blame her, because he loved his image of her (and Hojo is a way easier target for anger, because he's literally the worst), which speaks far more to his personal bias in the situation than to her actual role in it. She’s not moustache-twirlingly evil like Hojo but she’s not Vincent's star cross'd soul mate tragically torn away by cruel fate. Lucrecia was her own person.

In summation. Their story is not a doomed romance, it's a complicated, messy, ugly tangle of thorns, and one of the best written tragedies in a game that literally bleeds tragedy from every orifice. It's got one-sided love, obsession, mad science, betrayal, jealousy, fetal experimentation, murder, corpse reanimation, and a guy who can't die, and is left to deal with the consequences of everyone else's actions by himself forever. No one is innocent and no one comes out unscathed…strike that. Vincent is innocent and Hojo comes out unscathed. But still. Lucrecia is not a holy mother, she's not a brainless victim, and she's not Vincent's lost love. She's a person he loved, and who didn't reciprocate. Most importantly, she's a person. A whole-ass, complex, morally grey, fully developed person, who made terrible choices, then made even worse choices, and in the end, couldn't escape the fate she wove for herself.

And then wound up encased in crystal so she could be a pretty statue forever cause the game devs just couldn't help themselves I guess.

[connoisseursdecomfort]

All the lies in Chapter 86, and the truth behind

Yes, I'm still screaming internally, and I don't think I will ever get over this chapter.

Endo have told us right from the beginning: this is a story about lies:

Everyone has a secret self they don't show to other people. Not even to family. Not to friends. Not to lovers. And thus the world. They hide who they are and what they want behind lies and painted smiles.

Twilight is a liar. He consciously tells so many lies in this chapter, but it's what he (and the people around him) unconsciously shows really count.

*Manga spoiler alert*

Endo masterfully blends lies and truths together in this chapter. They recognise the existence of all facades, but somehow still manage to show what reality lies beneath, i.e. the three scenes many people have discussed.

When he tries to use his infamous excuse, "for the mission", once again, even Nightfall could tell that it's not the whole truth.

What's more interesting is when the team is in the car, and the old agent asked Twilight to grab a drink with him once they got back. Twilight refused, and that's when the old agent said: クツ調子いい時だけ家庭面しやがつて in the jp version.

The slight difference is he's saying Twilight only puts on that mask of a family man when he sees fit. It of course still means that Twilight is using his family as an excuse to not grab a drink with him. Twilight then replied: その面をか���るのが任務ですつてば. (It is my job to put on that mask.)

There is something poetic about the dialogues. There IS a pretence. There IS a mask to be put on for the mission. But Twilight's excuse has lost some of its validity because literally panels ago he's just got called out. And the old agent's tease is a common one against married men who'd avoid office gatherings "because he needs to go home and be the family man". It's a friendly banter.

They then chatted about his "fight" with Yor. There were four professional spies in the car, and none of them found it weird that he just called Yor his wife, and acted like a miserable married man worrying about his wife being angry at him. They were so normal about the situation it's as if Yor really is his wife.

It is the sense of normality that makes everything feel so real. He tried so hard to keep a distance with "his mission", but his actions and the word choices have exposed him.

He still doesn't call the Forger residence home, but he uses this word - 帰, to return. Mika made a thread about this. You only return to something or someone because at the very least part of you feel belong (I'm being ultra careful here but my soul is screaming it's because you feel at home). The place you "return" to must contain some sense of stability. He unwittingly reveals how the Forgers have become his safe place.

That's probably why once he stepped into the apartment and saw a smiling Yor, he fell to his knees. His body finally allowed himself to relax.

But that is also when his lies reappeared. He lied about his day. He lied about his wounds. And he lied about his feelings. It was Yor who opened up to him. He was lying.

While confessing to Yor in his mind.

This might be an unpopular opinion, but I don't think he's telling the truth in his mind. This doesn't mean he's consciously lying. He is trying to convince himself into "seeing the reality".

I'm going to gush so much about these two pages. Brace yourself.

I love these two pages so much, because it shows how lies can be more revealing than a spoken confession. Especially when Twilight is probably unaware of it.

Yor told him that he could rely on her. She uses the term 甘える.

甘える is to go to someone you trust when you feel scared or upset, to moan about your problems even if they sound trivial, and to ask for help for the tiniest things. It works both ways, you wanting to get attention and knowing that the person would still love you and baby you. You know you can be weak and the one you rely on would still find you to be adorable.

That's exactly what Yuri was doing. He ran to Yor crying after being beaten up. That's also what Anya did.

Yor told him that it's okay to be not perfect, and she's willing to share his burden.

He wanted to tell her so much more, but he only gave her a short answer. He just told her that she's made him feel better, but he wanted to talk to her about it. That's when he started to confess to her in his head.

On the surface, this confession shows that he's trying to deny her request. He is insisting that he has to be perfect.

Here's the tricky thing, by explaining to her why he had to be perfect, he had to admit that he's weak.

He wanted to tell her that he fucked up today and needed to be better. He wanted to show weakness. He wanted to 甘える. And his tone just further gives him away.

I will have to admit that I love how he talked to Yor in his head, especially "でもわヨルさん、オレは". He's using such a soft tone while trying to talk himself into toughening up. He went physically soft too. Fell down thrice even if he had prepped himself to get his guard up. He just couldn't do it when he's with Yor.

There are things he can't tell her, but there are more he can't admit to himself. He has wrapped himself in layers of lies, and they turned out to be more revealing than ever.

Twilight is still a huge liar in Chapter 86. I'm not sure if he's a cool liar, but he is the softest liar ever.

There are so many things I want to scream talk about. How he called Yuri "Yuri Briar" but Yor "Yor san". How he asked about Anya once he got home. How he's failed thrice trying to keep his guard up in front of Yor. How he called out to Yor when he thought Yuri had returned. But I guess it's for another day.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Our love is god (modern!Heathers JD type!Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

synopsis: High school is hell. Truly. However, the one person you think will finally make it better, only makes it so much more worse.

warnings: angst, making out, death, murder, faked suicide, sexual abuse, physical violence, gun violence, afab reader

word count: 6.4k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall, @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

King´s Landing high school. Your own personal hell as you liked to call it in your journal. You really thought joining forces with the devils that ran it would help you get through it, but all it did was make things harder. You left your real friends and unpopularity behind for a seat at the same table as the Baratheon sisters, only to help them bully the rest of the school and focus on your looks and parties more than anything else. You dreaded seeing them every day. Floris wasn´t as bad you had to admit, she was nice. A cheerleader, but in the end she still participated in her sisters doings. Cassandra was a more devout follower. The year book committee and the boob job that mommy paid for made her think she was more than she actually was, but even she couldn´t reach the tyranny of their sister Maris. She truly was a mythic bitch. Drowning in your thoughts, one makes its reoccurring return. College will be paradise if you´re not dead by graduation.

From the side you could feel an elbow get rammed into your ribs painfully.

“Ow. What´s your damage, Maris?” You spit out the words while rubbing the sore spot on your side.

“Stop whining. You are going to go to the big frat party with me this weekend. You should be thankful.” Just hearing her tone made you want to punch her in the boob or something. Gods, you couldn´t even think straight.

“Yay, great.” You can barely hide the sarcasm in your faked excitement.

However Maris doesn´t get the chance to say anything about it as right in that moment a commotion breaks out in the back of the cafeteria. With your old friends you would have been able to just ignore it, but with the Baratheons? No chance. The four of you turn around to see Cregan Stark and Qyle Martell harassing a student you think you have never seen before, which is highly unlikely as literally everyone here had been to kindergarten, elementary school and middle school together. Despite not recognizing him, you feel an immediate yet inexplainable attraction towards him. The whole ethereal beauty that he had going on was really working for him. So much so, that when the bickering stops and a gasp rolls through the cafeteria as the stranger pulls out a gun, you aren´t even that deterred. In fact you think it´s kinda funny how the two jocks pee their pants at being shot with blanks. They deserve some push back to their constant bullying.

But even that little moment can´t lift your mood long enough to get you over the party. When Maris picks you up in her dad´s way too expensive car you already feel like sending her away again. On the other hand you might as well end your own social life then. No.

“And don´t forget the corn nuts!” Maris yells after you as you walk towards the convenience store on your way to that stupid frat party.

“Plain or bbq?” You yell back.

“Bbq!” You get your answer in the middle of the door.

Rolling your eyes so she doesn´t see it you make your way through the store grabbing the snacks and looking around until you almost run into someone.

“Oh, sorry I didn´t look where I was going.” You take a step back feeling your cheeks heat in embarrassment as you recognize the stranger from school.

“It´s okay… You know, I´m not the biggest fan of your friend either.” He says as he grabs some snacks himself.

“What?” His statement catches you off guard quite a bit.

“I watched you… Today during lunch and how you rolled your eyes at her.” He explains as if it is nothing.

“You´ve been watching me?” You ask surprised, but with a smile on your face. “Should I be flattered or scared?”

"A little bit of both maybe?" He leans against one of the shelves. Putting on a half smile himself. A very handsome one at that. For the first time you really study him. The way his silver hair flows past his shoulders. The intense look of his right eye and the scar above his left one. The sharpness of his cheekbones, nose and chin. Until your eyes stick to his lips. Those perfect, pink lips with the sharp cupids bow.

"I can do that..." You whisper more to yourself than the lean person in front of you.

That's when the penetrating sound of a car horn and Maris screaming your name pulls the two of you back to reality.

"Better run quick. Your friend is waiting." He teases as you make your way to the Cash register. Your name rolling of his tongue in the most promising manner. Promising what? That is what you wanted to find out.

“I should.” You sigh. “But before I go… Since you know my name, it´s kind of only fair to tell me yours, don´t you think?”

“Aemond. Aemond Targaryen.” He finally introduces himself and upon hearing his last name you remember him distantly. You had talked to his sister Helaena once or twice a few years ago.

“Well, it was nice meeting you Aemond Targaryen, but I have to go appease the will of a high school tyrant now…” You shoot him a wink and get back to the car as quickly as possible.

The party, much like you thought, is a total bust. The music is complete shit, the alcohol is cheap and Maris leaves you alone to do god knows what with some frat bro almost immediately. Leaving you alone to be harassed by his friend. It all together gives you a major headache and so you leave at the first chance. Walking home still is a better option than having to bear this any longer.

You arrive there late, but the fresh air helps the headache. To your further luck, your parents are already asleep so you can go to your room directly. Writing out all your frustrations in your journal.

While you do so there is a tap on the window. Jolting out of your seat, you see Aemond standing there.

“Greetings and salutations.” He says as you open up for him to come inside. An invitation he takes instantly. “So how was the party?”

“About as good as one would think…” You scoff, closing your journal as you turn towards him.

“Ah… I bet your presence was missed greatly.” He says, the words dripping with sarcasm and making you laugh. I was nice to really laugh for the first time in a while. The two of you talk some more and somehow end the night cuddled up naked under the blankets. Remnants of both of your juices sticking to your thighs as you talk about gods know what. You honestly can´t pay much attention. Yet even post nut clarity couldn´t give you the realization that he just found out where you lived and came in through your gods damn window. Probably because his kisses kept your mind far away enough from reality.

“Maris Baratheon is one bitch that deserves to die.” He sighs.

“Killing her won´t solve anything. I say we just grow up be adults and then die.” You reply in a quiet tone. Your faces so close to each other that there is barely even an inch between you. Perfect to pull him in once more. Locking your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

The two of you fall asleep soon after. A tangle of limbs and your head tucked under his chin, on his chest. However when you open your eyes again you are alone. The only sign of Aemonds company the previous night being your own nakedness and a few marks he had left on you that would be easily covered up.

The real shock comes when you get back to school on monday. Meeting up with the Baratheon sisters as every morning, you are surprised to see only Cassandra and Floris. Who look tired. Well, Floris looks tired and quite sad. Cas looks as unbothered as ever, if not a bit happy.

“Where did you leave Maris?” You ask coming to a stop in front of them.

“Didn´t you hear? She killed herself two days ago…” Floris reveals with a quiet voice. Your heart sets out for a beat at the news.

“Yeah, where have you been all weekend?” Cas adds.

“I- I don´t know… I´m sorry for what happened with your sister. You put your sunglasses back on and leave them to find Aemond.

“Hey.” You great him with a small peck.

“What is going on? You look like someone just died.” He remarks, pulling you close to him and placing another peck to your cheek.

“My best friend just killed herself.” You murmur.

“Don´t you mean your worst enemy?” He replies with a small grin.

“Same difference.” Still bewildered by the happenings of this morning, you shake your head and then go to class with Aemond.

Only to learn then that you would all get a half day off. A half day seemed to be fairly less for a student just committing suicide in your opinion, especially one as influential as Maris, but then again she also enjoyed more fame than during her life. So at least she couldn´t complain. You felt a bit bad for entertaining that thought. Then again with how many lifes she had ruined...

Going to school after that was even worse for weeks. Everyone was romanticizing Maris´ reign of terror, Cassandra silently took over what her sister had started, or at least tried to and you? Well, you only ever got away from it all when you spent time away from it with Aemond, who seemed surprisingly chill, if not smug about the bully being out of the way. The two of you get closer quick during that time. He is the most understanding boyfriend you could have ever wished for. Even his few quirks are cute. Yet he keeps his darker sides safely tucked away from you. At least for now, he vows himself. Who would have known it could get even worse.

When you enter the school building the next day, everyone is staring at you, talking to their friends in hushed whispers. At first you assume it was the usual whispers, but when Cas comes up to you, you quickly get taught better.

“You little bitch. I never knew you were that kind of person.” She says with a wide complacent grin firm on her face.

“What are you even talking about, Cas? What the hell is going on here? What is everyone talking about?” You hiss. Gripping Aemond´s hand slightly, who seemed just as confused as you were. Though he was more successful in concealing his feelings.

“Shouldn´t you know what you did? “ your supposed friend feigns innocence. It really makes you want to slap the holier than thou look off her face.

“Just. Tell. Me.” You make sure to put emphasis on every single word.

“Qyle and Cregan are going around telling everyone you blew them.” She holds her hand in front of her mouth to hide her giggle.

Without another word, you stomp past her. Running around the next corner, where Aemond stops you.

“Hey. Hey! Angel, where are you going?” He questions. Holding you by the shoulders.

“To those stupid… fucking…” You let out an undefinable sound of frustration. “They may get away with harassing the all the girls of this entire school, but not me.”

 “You have to take a breath and calm down.” He says in a low voice as to not attract any more attention.

“Don’t tell me to calm down.” You seethe, but at least you stop marching through the mass of other students.

“Calm down.” He reiterates. “I already have a plan.”

Right in that moment however the bell rings signaling the start of first period. And it is pure horror. The whispers all around you echo in your head even when it is entirely silent. Teachers drone on and on about topics that you couldn´t get less of a shit about. Cassandra and Floris arent´t any help with any of it either of course. With how nice Floris tended to be it was easy to forget who they were sometimes. Time stretches endlessly until you reach home. Sitting down on your bed, you wait for the telltale sign of Aemond coming over. By now the knocking on the window doesn´t even startle you anymore. The opposite is the case. Whenever you hear it, your heart instinctively skips a beat. Just like it does now.  You open the window and watch Aemond hop inside. Greeting him with one, two, three little pecks to the lips you pull him to the bed with you by the lapels of his leather jacket. Barely separating from him as you do so, you grin against his lips at the way his large hands grab your hips to pull your body close to his.

“I missed you so much.” He hums against your mouth between kisses.

“We haven´t seen each other for two hours.” You giggle. Running a gentle hand over his chest as the fingernails of the other massage his neck.

“I know and it felt like an eternity.” Aemond all but growls against your neck. Biting it lightly, before sucking a mark into the supple flesh.

You let out a trembling whine at the tingling feeling his lips chase down your spine. The needy sound followed by an amused chuckle from him.

“So, your still out for revenge?” He growls against your neck.

“Yes.” You answer just a bit more breathless than before.

“Good.” Aemond pulls away from you and throws two guns beside you on the bed. Startled by them, you jump back. Looking at the blond, who returns it with a smug expression.

“Aem, I want to pay them back not murder them!” You shriek, settling down a good bit away from the weapons. He on the other hand is eerily calm.

“Do you take german?” He asks as he sits down and takes your hands.

“French.” You answer still on edge.

“These are `Ich lüge´ bullets. My grandpa stole a shitload of them in WW2, they´re like tranquilizers. Only they break the surface of the skin enough to cause a little blood.” Aemond explains as he dumps a handful of bullets between the guns.

“So… It looks like the person has been shot, but really they are just unconscious and bleeding?” You ask just to be sure. The sight of the weapons made you feel all kinds of bad.

He nods. “We shoot Cregan and Kyle, it looks like they shot each other and by the time they regain consciousness, they´ll be the laughing stock of the whole school.”

“And what is that for?” You point to the folded paper that lies between the bullets.

“That is the cherry on top. A fake suicide note. Painting the whole thing as them killing themselves, because they knew they would never be accepted for being a gay couple.” Aemond snickers and you have to admit that the plan in all it´s simplicity sounds pretty good.

Taking your phone you send a text to Cregan. Luring him and Qyle into the woods behind the school under the guise of wanting to have a threesome with the two of them. Knowing full well it would get them where you wanted. Throwing your phone to the bed with a nervous giggle, you feel Aemond crawl on top of you. The weight of his taller frame pushing you into the mattress as his lips find yours again.

When you enter the woods and Aemond kisses you one last time, before you hide your gun and he goes to hide in the trees, your whole body trembles with uncertainty.

“Hey, Dollface.” Cregan greets you.

The two guys come to a stand about five feet away from you. “So, how are we gonna start this?” Qyle adds to his friend. Wasting no time as always.

“I thought you two could start by undressing for me.” You flutter your lashes at them, voice like honey in their ears.

“Okay.” The two of them say in unison. Nodding before they all but tearing the clothes of their body, stripping down to their boxers. The three of you count to three and right as they want to rip off the last piece of fabric down too your plan sets in action. Aemond jumps out from behind a nearby tree, the pair of you whip out the guns and aim for the half naked and afraid boys. Aemond hits Qyle right in the chest and he drops to the ground right where he stood. You are less lucky, missing Cregan by only an inch. He turns to see his friend lie on the ground, in a growing puddle of his own blood and makes a run for it. Your heart starts pounding in your chest even harder than before, if that even is possible. Threatening to break out of your ribcage as you watch Aemond´s face contorts into a grimace of anger.

“Shit! You stay here, I´m getting him.” He barks, chasing after a screaming Cregan.

It´s silent where you remain alone. Making you wonder what is going on. In the same breath your eyes fall down to Qyle´s body. The blood still pools underneath his body, prompting your thoughts run off the rails with crazy theories.

It isn´t until Aemond chases Cregan back to you, where he finally shoots him as well. The burly body flopping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. With horror you see your worst theory come true. They are both dead. Aemond killed them. And you helped him. A scream leaves your lips and you throw the weapon in your hand away on instinct. Clasping your hands over your mouth as the shock seeps in.

“No. No, no, no, no.” You mumble more to yourself than anyone else really. You are frozen to the spot you are standing in and if it were up to you, you would fall to your knees then and there. But Aemond takes your hand and pulls you away from the crime scene.

You don´t come to until you are in his car, in front of your house. You feel empty, detached from reality. Your body functions on autopilot. Putting a cigarette into your mouth to even somehow try to cope with the stress of what you had just become witness to. However when you lift up the lighter, the flame licks at the skin of your palm instead. You let out an agonizing scream and tears immediately shoot into your eyes at the white, hot pain.

The funeral a week later is a rough one. Even rougher than Maris´. The way the Septon plays up the gay martyr part is unbelievable. Aemond´s presence by your side doesn´t give you any comfort any more either. You can barely look at him anymore. Over the course of the past days your mind had started to come back from what lead you there, but it also distanced itself from him. Only able to see that side of him that he had hidden so well. All you want to do is hide under your blanket for the rest of your life, instead you have to sit in that gods forsaken sept, feeling sorry for Floris and Sarah, Cregan´s half-sister and your ex best friend, who seem to be taking this the hardest. You knew that Floris and Cregan, despite him being a total goon, had been kind of on and off for a while. The two of them didn´t deserve this. Fuck, the bad conscience was eating away at you, making you nauseaus. Of course, Aemond is entirely calm. Not letting a single soul see behind the carefully strung up curtain. Even though you imagine to see the same small smug smirk in his face again that he had expressed while explaining his plan to you all those days back.

Repressing the urge to run out of the sept, you pick at the skin around your fingernails until they bleed.

Once the service is over, you get onto Aemond´s motorcycle and let him drive you home. No matter how hard it is to keep holding on to him and not dissociate the whole ride. Your mind makes up then and there, that this has to end. You have to end this.

That night when he comes over, you sit him down.

“We um… We need to talk.” You mumble. Still not meeting his eye. He had already noticed your inability to do so since that day, but until now he thought you would catch yourself again after an initial shock. A mistake he noted mentally to never do again.

“What do you want to talk about?” He feigns ignorance, though he full well has a perfect idea of what you want to talk about.

“I… We… I can´t do this anymore, Aemond.” You stammer out, your leg trembling under his hand that rests on your thigh.

“Cannot do what anymore, Angel?” His one seeing eye rests on you as intensely as ever.

“This. Us. I thought I could cope with what we have done, but I can´t. I can´t look at you like before anymore. The sight of their… bodies… still haunts me in my dreams.” You try to find the right words to express your feelings and still it feels like the severity of them doesn´t come out right.

“You can´t be serious about that.” He faltered. Despite having a feeling about what you were gonna say, he still feels floored by it. His heart hurting at your words.

“I am. I never wanted this. “ Your voice hardens as you get more confident about your decision.

“You wanted this too. You said you wanted revenge.” Aemond insists.

“Yes, I wanted revenge. I did not ask for this. Two people are dead!” You try to get through to him. To no avail.

“You didn´t seem to mind much when Maris died.” He blurts out. It´s entirely in the heat of the moment. And he regrets revealing it to you like that, but it is out nonetheless.

“What?” You shriek in response. “I thought Maris killed herse…”

The thought of the fakes suicide note for Cregan and Qyle enters your mind and you hide your face in your hands, fighting back the tears that sting in your eyes.

“Please just leave…” Your voice comes muffled from behind your hands. Opting to leave your face buried in them as you speak the defeated words.

“Angel, I am not just going to leave you. We can talk about this.” He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls them down to your lap.

“What is there to talk about? You killed three people!” You pulled your arms away from him, but his grip was too strong.

“Yes, but I did it for you.” He argues.

“How was any of that for me?” Your voice drips with disbelieve.

Aemond comes closer to you until he whispers against your lips. “They hurt you. I will never let anyone hurt you.”

Then he presses his lips to yours roughly. His tongue pushes into your mouth forcefully, stunning you into an overpowering inability to act, as he pushes you against the headboard. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, making you cry out in search for help or to get him to stop. Just something, anything to make him stop. It takes several more moments for your brain to return to the situation, but once it does you start struggling with all your might. Biting his lip and kicking him away from you, finally sets you free from his assault.

“I want you to go. Now.” You say quietly but with as much certainty as you can put into your voice. He turns around and leaves. Surprisingly without another word. Yet your body stays on edge until long after he is gone.

Your arms wrapped tightly around your middle, you shiver from your nerves processing everything that had been revealed and happened. Unable to really cope with it yet. Despite not having really liked them your friends where dead and only the gods knew what Aemond would do next.

That night you get haunted by him in your dreams.

You find yourself in the Baratheon´s dark kitchen. Aemond in front of you, looking for a knife. For some reason you know Cassandra is going to be his next victim. Yet, no matter how hard you try to speak and keep him from going through with his fucked up plan, you can´t. Not a single sound comes from your lungs. With panic you watch as he grabs a dirty knife from the dishwasher and goes into Cas´ room. In the complete dark you can´t see exactly what he does, you can only see the world go dark around you seconds later, feeling like you are falling into a bottomless pit, you wake up with a gasp. Sweat soaking your pillow and your chest heaving with short heavy bursts of breath while your heart threatens to break out if it. You know you have to stop him, before what the dream is foreboding becomes reality. He is incalculable, dangerous and whatever he does end up doing next, can´t happen under any circumstances. You spend the whole day trying to make out a plan, not paying attention to any of your teachers or Floris and Cassandra. Not a single idea your brain comes up with is good enough to work. Luckily it also makes you ignore the weird looks your friends are giving you over your unresponsiveness.

Saying goodbye to them when they drop you of in the afternoon, you plan to head to your room immediately. A plan that is thwarted by your parents, who await you in the living room, worried expressions on both of their faces.

“Darling! We need to talk to you for a moment.” Your mother speaks up first. Seemingly relieved to see you alive and well.

“Sure, what´s going on?” Your mind is still half busy with Aemond when you put down your bag in front of you.

“Aemond just dropped by. Saying all these things about how we should look out for you, that he was worried for you…” Your mom´s voice is shaky as she recalls on the memories of what had happened so shortly before you arrived.

“Did he say something else?” You say passively. Inside you are boiling already. Who does he think he is?

“He said you confessed some rather alarming urges to him. That you shouldn´t be left alone with sharp objects or… or that kind of stuff.” Your father holds your mother a little tighter to calm her down again. You truly feel sorry for them. How could they know that what they have been told was as wrong as it possibly could have been.

“I´m sorry… But I´m not… That´s not true. You know I´d talk to you if there was anything going on.” You assure them.

You try to spend more time with them, but once your parents start to believe you, you make your way back to your room. Your mind is finally made up on what to do. If talking to him wouldn´t help to get him to stop killing, maybe you could shock him into it. Hopefully. He did used say, that the extreme always makes an impression. Taking your bedsheets you tie them around your body in a way that allows you to make it look like you had hung yourself. For once it would come in handy that he had never stopped texting you. Hurrying to get done before you hear that accursed knock. Tipping over the chair you use in your preparations mere seconds before he lets himself in. No matter how much you want to move or even at least open your eyes, you force yourself to stay calm. No matter how unfamiliar the air under your forcefully relaxed feet feels and your lungs hurt from the flat breaths you can allow yourself at most to take. Blissfully unaware to the gun hidden in the back of his pants, with which he planned gods know what. While he doesn´t move or breath or speak for a short moment. Frozen in a shock not deep enough to hold him for long.

It seems you have underestimated his crazy. Mentally you curse yourself out aggressively so that you almost miss him beginning to speak to you.

I can´t believe you did it.” He says in a breathy tone and you can hear his hands slap against his thighs as if he had raised them in defeat beforehand. “I loved you. Sure I was coming in here ready to kill you, but… I at least would´ve wanted to tell you about this petition the whole school signed first. Of course they don´t know what they really signed up for, but that won´t be any of their concern anymore soon. Oh Angel, it´s a shame you don´t get to see this play out anymore. I have the perfect plan. During pep rally on Friday the whole school is gonna come down and everyone in there with it. Listen to this. We, the students of King´s Landing high, will die. Our bodies will be the ultimate protest against you. A society that churns out slaves and blanks. Fuck you all.”

He was even further gone than you would´ve thought or hoped. “It´s not very subtle, but a school blowing up, that´s big. The kind of big that infects a generation. The only place Baratheons and Snows can get along is in heaven. We could´ve united them together, you and I… you left me no choice. So I will do it alone if I must.”

By now he is breathless from the passion that is no doubt not only in his voice but also his heart. The clicking of a lighter registers over the ringing of sheer panic in your ears, followed by the faint footsteps and mumbling of your mother. Aemond is quick to sneak back out the window and you are just about to open your eyes back up and take a deep breath, when the door opens behind you and your poor mothers scream can be heard throughout the entire house.

Hurrying, you untie the bedsheets with shaky hands, hurting your knees in the process of falling to the ground, but you don´t care. All you care about is getting to your mom. Hugging her weak, sobbing form to your body as tightly as you can. Soothing her as best as possible, but the damage has been done you guess and you really can´t blame her. If you would have been in her place you wouldn´t have reacted or felt any other way.

“It´s okay, mom. I´m okay, I´m still here. It wasn´t real.” It´s safe to say, that after all of that you don´t sleep well. Or at all really. How could you after Aemond has told you what would happen next. You want to stop him, feel like you have to stop him, even more so now that your plan has failed so miserably. If anything you´re under the impression of having worsened the state his soul is in.

For two whole days you have to watch school go by without anything out of the ordinary happening. Which just makes the bad feelings in your gut swirl even more intensely. Yet, at the same time, there is a strange calm inside your mind. There certainly, realistically, is very little you can do to keep Aemond from doing what he wants to do. But at least if, or rather when, you go down on Friday, you don´t go down by being by Aemond´s side, watching the smoke pour out the doors. Making s´mores over the burning remains of your dead school mates. This was sick. A whole parade of red flags. A perverted power fantasy, that you can´t believe you didn´t notice before. In those days you have more people than you are willing to count come after you, questioning how you are still alive. How did the stupid rumors always spread the fastest and furthest?

The poor guidance counselor is who almost suffers from you losing your nerves over it, on the day of. You are quick to apologize as well though.

“I am so sorry, I´d be glad to talk about this another day, now I really have something more important to do.” You let the man behind, that still opens and closes his mouth like a fish on land.

Marching through the masses of students on their way to the gym. Scared shitless, but still determined to put an end to this if you can. It was high time you pulled your shit together anyway. Finding Aemond in the boiler room, he is already busy setting up multiple explosives.

“Hey!” You pull his attention away from the dynamite.

“Greetings and salutations. Come to change your mind?” He inquired.

“No. Never! Gods, how delusional are you to think that anyone would join you in this madness! You are no better than your mother.” You take another step closer to him. The venom in your tone gets him to stay silent for once. However he still doesn´t stop fiddling with the bombs.

“Put that down, slowly and then put your hands behind your head.” You put your hand in the pocket of your cardigan to grab your fathers hunting knife in case you´d need it. Pulling it out you earn a genuinely amused chuckle, then everything goes too fast for you to react properly. Aemond kicks the weapon out of your hand, letting it slide out of your reach, and knocks you out with a few , for him very simple, movements. Sinking to the ground you barely stay conscious long enough to see him walk further into the basement of the building. Fuck. The already quiet sounds of the pep rally become even more quiet over the dull thudding in your head and then darkness claims you.

You don´t know how long you have been out once your eyes open again. Thankful for the low light of the rooms you are in, you tumble towards the direction you saw Aemond leave in. Holding on tightly to the wall or anything you can find to keep the dizziness from knocking you off your feet again. Too busy to hear your scuffling steps, you can grab the gun he had brought and laid down beside himself.

“I said put it down… and hands behind your head…” The sentence is broken up by your heavy breathing.

One of his hands shoots to the side to check for the missing gun. Raising them over his head almost immediately and turning around to you slowly.

“Angel, come on. You know you can´t shoot me so why don´t you just put down the gun and join me? I´m giving you one last chance.” His tone is still smug, but you can hear a hint of fear shine through the overconfidence.

Scoffing, you shake your head at his inability to even now be real with his feelings. “Just turn off the bombs.”

Behind his eye you can see his brain mulling over every possible outcome to this situation. Surprising you, by complying to with you have just said. Putting his hands behind his head, the feeling of the imminent danger of the situation subsides from your system and you finally hear the voices from upstairs again. Having had enough of talking you wave for him to go outside with the gun, which you hold safely in both hands. Due to everyone being still in the gym and none the wiser as to what was going on not too far away from them. In front of you Aemond pushes the big front doors open for both of you to step outside.

Standing still, he turns to you again. Eye half closed and so close to you that if either of you were to move, your lips would most definitely touch.

“You know what you need to do now.” He murmurs. The way his breath fans over your face so warm and for a moment you feel set back to the beginning of your relationship. When everything was still okay or at least as okay as it could be.

“I don´t want to have to do it.” You whisper back.

“There is no other way to end this anymore now. I am far too damaged, but you are not beyond repair. Please… Stand back now. You know it had to end this way. No matter how much you wished it didn´t.” Aemond takes a step back himself and stretches his arms out to the side.

You take a deep breath and as you take a step away from him remind yourself of everything he had done and wanted to do. Looking up at him you ask him in a voice void of emotion.

“Any last words?”

“I worship you. So much. I´ll trade my life for yours.”

With a heart heavier than it should be, you point the gun back at the man who you had thought was the only one to ever truly understand you. Then, before your brain can have the chance to think twice about it your actions, you pull the trigger.

The shot rings in your ears long after it is over. The sight of Aemond falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes, filling you with a great void of nothingness. Still you stay there for a few more minutes. Lighting yourself a cigarette and waiting for that atrocious ringing to stop. A part of you still hopes to wake up and have all of this be a nightmare, but you never wake up and the cigarette is entirely done. So you throw the damned thing away, drop the gun on Aemond´s lifeless body and get back inside where everyone is flooding the hallways.

Ignoring Cassandra´s comments and protest, you march past her, taking Floris by the hand and walk over to Sarah who is sitting alone on the stairs.

“Ladies, there is a new sheriff in town. And the way I see it, all three of us are still free tonight. So, I propose we buy snacks and watch movies at my place all night.” You say with a conciliatory smile.

The two girls look happy about the suggestion. About as happy as they can look under the given circumstances and together the three of you decide to cut the school day a bit shorter and go now.

[houseofbrat]

Still so William let his cancer stricken wife being trolled online for the mother day pictures as well have her carry bags during at the farmers market. William sigh

That's the worst part. She had cancer all along and William was like "all right under the bus you go Cathy!"

Meanwhile the stans are calling him a hot zaddy and lusting after him.

Granted we are on Reddit so I guess the bare minimum is expected for men.

They have an entire press office and people that they pay to be their mouthpiece to the public.  Why the hell didn’t they just hand all of this off to them to have a plan to roll out to the public?  How did this go so badly?

Honestly, I'd love to know the whole story. Just to be clear, I mean the whole story of the PR fiasco, not Kate's specific medical problems.

This might be an incredibly unpopular opinion, not sure, but I really disagree with everyone saying oh she shouldn't have had to tell us about her cancer, she should have full privacy, etc. I agree with those thoughts for celebrities and influencers, but for people supposed to lead a country and whose lives are being fully funded by taxpayers, I do think they owe a duty of transparency around their health. I'm in the U.S. and we've all seen outrage because Biden's defense secretary kept cancer a secret for like a day, because Trump refused to release his physical results, I could go on.

I think it’s a really hard judgement to make because royalty is such a unique role, and there really isn’t much to compare it to.  Not to mention that there are 2 separate questions: what was she obligated to announce and what should they have expected as far as levels of curiosity about a high profile public figure.  I do think that there would have been strategies that they could have used to better preserve privacy in the face of public curiosity.

I agree. I tend to think royalty doesn't get to be totally private about major life events but that doesn't mean they don't deserve ANY privacy. I just feel like the outraged comments about how sad it is she was forced to tell people because of their evil speculating ways are going too far in the other direction.

I don't think she necessarily has to share a diagnosis, but expecting that she could disappear entirely from public view and no-one would ask any questions is ridiculous. They had at least two months to come up with any plan besides complete silence.

I never wanted them to discuss her medical issues but transparency would have helped. Don't treat people like idiots. They mishandled this, and there were a million ways to keep things private but not have things turn into a cluster. Prayers for Catherine.

in terms of prognosis...

"preventive" chemotherapy is a positive sign here

the fact that the surgeon did not recognize he was looking at a cancer tumor in the OR is a positive sign here

the fact that it required a complex biopsy (it took 5 weeks) for the pathology to find the cancer is a positive sign.

Having been through this recently with a spouse, what you’re saying sounds correct to me too.  She would have had the best of diagnostic tools, so that would have ruled out large masses.  The language also indicates that what they found was small.

whoever ran the PR definitely did it poorly. Part of the reason the mother's day photo blew into a bigger news event was all the major news agencies put out a kill notice on it. and they only did that because Kensington palace declined to share the unedited one when asked.

Chetwynd said news agencies asked Kensington Palace to provide the original photo, but they did not receive a reply. That’s when they decided to issue “kill notices,” something that is very rarely done.

but they didn’t stick to the timeline.. they decided to reveal a doctored image and then make Kate take the fall for it. even if she did edit the picture on her own just for fun, they didn’t have to put it on her alone? the whole thing was so odd.

They could have skipped the fake photo release. They could have reacted to the swell of interest by putting out a statement that there have been developments and they will communicate when they are ready. To pretend nothing happened since the Jan announcement is disingenuous and PR is about real time handling

[cute-bag-of-bones]

Can't Trust A Supe

Part 2: Ma Petite Poulette

Part 1

Warnings: violence, implied death, swearing.

      The local library wasn't the ideal place to read a top secret file like this but it was the best I could do on short notice. At least it would be quiet.

       The papers inside were both typed and some were hand written. I could recognize my mom's curvy and heavy handed handwriting anywhere. The notes had to be written by her. I found my mom's resignation letter to vaught. She sighted wanting to start a family as the reason for the departure. There was also a copy of a legal document that was asking for my mother to return any stolen property she had taken with her. I read further and from what I can guess Vaught thought she stole some kind of serum. The document never specified the name.  

      There was also documentation of her and Homelander's relationship. The fact Vaught kept track of something like that really cemented to me how creepy Vaught is. They even noted how erratic Homelander became when she ended the relationship. 

     My chest tightened up as I read lower. It mentioned the incident at my family's compound. In this file they claim Homelander had gotten some intel that my father and his cult was planning a mass suicide. When Homelander came to stop them my father detonated the bombs killing everyone there instantly. 

      My hand balled into a fist as I looked up from the papers. Bank holidays and annual parades all spawned because of Vaught's lies. Children wear masks of my fathers face and throw candy bombs at each other. The last name Bishop became so unpopular that residents of New York City changed their names to avoid association. Even I had to take on an alias just to live my life in peace. All because a woman broke up with a man. I needed to calm down, I could see right through the librarian who was starting to notice the glowing blue light coming from my eyes. 

      I closed the file and looked at the number written on the front. Billy Butcher's Mary band of idiots, could they really kill Homelander? Could they do it without getting killed themselves? 

      I knew I would regret it but I had to be there when Homelander died. Even if I can just make him bleed. That will be enough, enough to show him his actions have consequences. No one is above revenge and at some point everyone's ticket will be punched, even his.

     Before I could think about how big of a mistake this was I called (uncle) Billy. He gave me an address to go to and hung up. I wasn't surprised when the address in question was another ran down building. I was surprised when he let me in and I saw a small woman curled up on the sofa and a large black man sitting at a table. Maybe he knew what he was doing. It had been less then a week and he had already conned two more suckered into helping him. 

     "You got more help?"

     "Oh yeah this is Mother's Milk and um oi Frenchie what are we calling her?" He said pointing to the wild looking girl. 

      "We are still working on that part. Hello ma petite poulette. Good to see you came around." Frenchie said with a wave. I'd have to Google what the hell he just called me. Hughie looked less sick this time which I guess was a good sign. 

      "Right, well I changed my mind. I want to help." I say walking in. The girl moved from the sofa and closer to frenchie. She looked at me like she was sizing me up. It made me uneasy but they seemed to trust her. 

      I got the rundown on the plan and all that had happened, it was half baked at best but it was better than nothing.

     "Wait, she crushed the guy's head? With her what?" I guess there are worse ways to go.

      "It was bad." M.M adds as he helps Frenchie put together some guns. 

      This group looked disorganized from the outside looking In but the more time I spent with them the more I realized they had some kind of system. A rhythm of some kind they all understood. It is taking me a few days to fall into it. I wasn't sure where I fit in yet. I know Billy is the ringleader. He sets it all up. Frenchie and M.M make it happen for him. Frenchie normally supplied the tools of the trade, M.M had the skills and cool head. The Female was easy enough to figure out. She is a Beast, a force of nature, in the best possible way. It was sickeningly beautiful how quickly she could tear through a guy. 

         Hughie was the last I figured out but he's the moral compass and he is pretty good for morale to because picking on him is fun. But he's the heart of this outfit without a doubt. 

         Today Billy had something for me to do. He needed a key card from this security guard at a desk of a medical research center or something. It needed to be clean. Frenchie and I were sent in. It was meant to be Hughie and I but he had a bad cheese dog and couldn't leave the bathroom so we improvised.

        It was 11 pm and pouring rain when I walked up to the glass door. I had to get close enough to him to ensure he would survive the encounter. I had been practicing with rats at the hideout and felt confident I could do this on a human. I just needed to close the distance before he got suspicious. I tapped on the glass and held my hands out in a prying motion. 

        "Please I need help!" I yell past the glass. I needed him to unlock the door. I knew I looked very unintimidating. At least to most men. A 5'5 blonde girl didn't scream danger to most people. He got up and sighed as he walked over to the door. 

        "I'm sorry ma'am the lab is closed." He shouted back through the glass.

        "No wait I'm sorry, I'm super lost downtown and my phone died. Can I use a phone? I need to call my mom." The whole time I was looking inside him. Scanning making sure I could do this clean. He hesitated for a moment before finally opening the door to me. 

       "Just be quick please." He said as he showed me to the phone at the front desk. He stood next to me and waited for me to make my call. So I did, I called Frenchie's burner to let him know I was in and that he should head this way. The phone rang and just as planned he didn't answer. I looked up at the man and began my real part of the plan. I start by lowering his blood pressure. He begins to sweat. It was a delicate balancing act between being quick enough he doesn't get suspicious and being careful enough not to kill him. He grabs the corner of the desk and I take the change to put the phone down and help him into his seat. 

       "Are you alright?" I ask as I continue my attack. He tries to grab the phone, likely thinking he was having some kind of stroke. I make his eyes close and apply the lightest amount of pressure to his carotid arteries trying to slow oxygen getting to the brain. Soon his own brain does the rest as he slips into sleep. I run and open the door for Frenchie who comes sprinting in. 

       "What did you do to him?" 

       "He's just sleeping. Go do what you have to. I have to stay down here to make sure he doesn't wake up." He nods and grabs the guards key card and takes an elevator up. The cameras had already been taken care of so my only worry was keeping this guy out cold. I let up on his carotid arteries, scared the limited amount of oxygen to the brain would leave him with lasting effects. He stirred slightly but still seemed to be asleep in his chair. Soon Frenchie came running down with some files and a flash drive.

       "Help me grab him." He said as he tried to lift the security guard from his chair. 

      "What why?"

      "I might have made a small mistake and caught the lab on fire. Just grab his legs for me, ma petite poulette." Frenchie pleaded as he tried to drag the larger man. I hurried and grabbed his ankles and laid him on the sidewalk as the van pulled up. The cold rain and movement was enough to make him come too. He started to open his eyes as the van doors closed with Frenchie and I safely inside. It was a rush, we were greeted with a very happy M.M who pulled me into the tightest hug I had even received.

       "You did it kid! That was great!" He said letting me go. Even Billy was smiling and for once it wasn't for something bad. 

          I was walking back to the shelter that night when some asshole came up from behind me and grabbed my backpack. It ripped and all my stuff fell on the wet ground. Books, wallet, snacks and my ancient Homelander plush. The mugger tried to grab my wallet but before he could a red gloved hand grabbed him by his head and flung him into the air. I screamed in surprise and fell on my butt. Every hair on my body stood on end as I looked up and saw Homelander himself in front of me. I had thought for so long what I would do when presented with this opportunity. Here he was right in front of me and I was so scared I couldn't even move. 

      "Oh we got an old fan." He says as he bends down and picks up the old Homelander toy. "One of the first series. Very rare, if you want I'll sign it for you sweetheart." He says with a grin that makes me sick to my stomach. 

      "N-no thank y-you." I say as I pick up my torn bag and start to put stuff back into it. He just stood there looking at the toy.

      "Where did you get this, I don't think it ever went to stores. Marketing thought the smile was too wide on it and that it would creep out kids." He said with a laugh. 

       "I don't remember." I say quickly I couldn't exactly say my mom you dated gave it to me. I stand up and hold my bag opened for him to drop it in. He stared at me for a second as his grin left his face. 

     "You know you look so familiar. Did you go to the fan signing in Central Park?" He asked as he put the plush back in my bag. I never looked him in the eyes. I couldn't every time I saw his photo on billboards all I could see was his glowing red eyes. I looked down at the ground.

      "Um yeah yeah I was. It was great meeting you. I have to go through." I say quickly as I run across to the other side of the road. I didn't look back as I speed walked away. 

       "Wait one minute." He said in a commanding voice. I froze solid right in my spot. He walked in front of me and held up my wallet. I must have missed it on the ground.

      "Oh thank you so much. It was great meeting you but I have classes tomorrow. " I say as I take it back from him I lie for my life.

     "Yes of course school is very important, you have a safe night." He says before he jumps into the air. I had never ran so fast in my life.

      In bed that night I was beating myself up. He was right there why couldn't I just do it. It would have been perfect. No one around, just him and I. I could have ended it then and there. I hated myself for being too pathetic to do what I knew was right. Finally I let myself fall asleep. All night I was haunted by his red eyes and the sounds of rubble falling.

      The next day I got a new bag and had my lunch under a tree in the park when I heard a familiar voice behind me. 

      "How's the sandwich?" I jumped and looked around as Homelander floated down onto view. A bit of sandwich wedged itself in my throat. I started to cough and hack before finally it flew out. Homelander made a disgusted face but then smiled down at me. A crowd park might have been safer for me but it made me more nervous. Seeing him in person in broad daylight is somehow more terrifying than you could ever imagine.

I think I have it all figured out I'm going to be posting every other day and on the off days I'll be posting a Batfam fanfic on another Tumblr if that interests you at all here's that link feel free to stop by.

[caricature-of-fic]

mini fic for btvs 1x05 Never Kill a Boy on the First Date

Buffy & Willow; gen; general audiences

---

coda.

“Willow, am I frivolous?”

“Hmm?” Willow kept her eyes on the page until she had finished the sentence and covered the period at its end with her index finger before raising her head. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Frivolous.” Buffy wasn’t looking at her. Well, she wasn’t not looking at her, or at least, she was looking in Willow’s general direction, but she was doing it in a strange, avoiding-any-direct-looking way. Instead, she seemed distracted by the book, of all things. “Just… something that Owen said.”

“Owen said something? I thought he was kinda… you know.” An idiot who’d only gotten properly interested in Buffy once he realised she could give him adrenaline kicks, or something. “Out of the picture.”

“He is! Something he said before. Before all of… that.”

“Oh. Okay.” With only a small twinge of regret, Willow removed her finger from between the pages and replaced it with the bookmark. “What did he say?”

“Something about… that he doesn’t think dating is important. And that he doesn’t bother with it because he thinks most girls are frivolous. I kinda brushed it off at the time, I mean, he was on a date with me and dancing and all. But I just… Willow, he reads Dickinson. And I’m pretty sure he only thought I wasn’t frivolous is because I lied about liking Dickinson, too.”

A few potential responses ran through Willow’s brain at that, not all of them charitable. A lot of girls were frivolous, in her opinion. Which was what doomed Willow to unpopularity, because she wasn’t, but which also provided the comforting thought that she didn’t want to be like that, anyway. Not really. Even if it would be nice to be included, sometimes. Except she’d have assumed Buffy was like those girls, too, wouldn’t she?

And Buffy was, wasn’t she? She was pretty and stylish and got asked out by boys and didn’t like studying and didn’t care about books except when a cute boy made her lie about it. But… she also wasn’t like that, because she also cared about other people’s feelings and she hung out with Willow, which showed a clear at least sort-of disregard for her social status, and she spent a lot of time hanging out in graveyards and doing backflips at vampires before shoving stakes in their hearts. So that firmly differentiated her from, say, Cordelia.

Except. If Buffy hadn’t chosen to befriend Willow, Willow would never know all these things about her. She’d just see her as one more popular, shallow, frivolous girl with nothing but boys on the brain, someone Willow wanted nothing to do with while also desperately wishing to be accepted and included by, and she really preferred not to think too deeply on that contradiction because now it just made her wonder if maybe Cordelia was doing heroic things without anyone’s knowledge.

She probably wasn’t, but still.

“I tried reading Dickinson,” Buffy mumbled. Willow hoped this had been a natural continuation and not a despondence caused by her failing to answer for too long. “Why would you put that many dashes into a poem? You’d think she'd know how to finish sentences, if she writes so much poetry.”

“Not reading Dickinson does not make you frivolous,” Willow declared firmly. That much, she knew. “Reading it just makes you broody. Just look at Owen. 40 minutes straight, remember? See what reading dash-filled poetry about death does to you.”

“He wasn’t quite so broody anymore after seeing death for real.” There was a hint of bitterness in Buffy’s voice.

“I guess not. But, Buffy…”

“What?”

“Maybe—maybe someone who goes from ‘broody death poem reader’ straight to ‘let’s challenge death by starting bar fights at 3am’ isn’t really the best partner to have, anyway?”

“I… yeah. Yeah, maybe not.” Buffy huffed a laugh, and Willow grinned at her.

“There’s plenty of other fish in the sea. Or the school. Anyway, what’d that Angel guy actually want before we showed up…?”

[go-go-devil]

for the character ask i send you 3: clara the changeling, somsnosa, reah of thorolund?

Excellent picks, my friend! Though I'm going to exclude the favorite picture of them segments since they all come from video games and I don't wanna overthink which screenshots of them I find the most interesting.

Clara the Changeling (specifically from Pathologic Classic since I really haven't seen much of her in Patho 2 in comparison):

favorite thing about them: I love her sense of humor, even despite the horrible situations she's forced into. I swear Classic's Changeling route has some of the funniest dialogue exchanges in the entire game largely coming from how snarky and overall DONE she is in dealing with all the nonsense of the adults around her.

least favorite thing about them: How her religious ideology often leads her to show a very black and white understanding of morality. Obviously she's not an adult and is largely being manipulated into these ideas by her adoptive parents, but that doesn't mean she's innocent of some of the legitimately rude things she can say to other people's faces (or even just racist since I'm pretty sure I remember her calling Aspity a "heathen" or something along those lines).

favorite line: Of course the "I detest trickery" line is one of the most iconic quotes in the whole game, but I also really love that one line she can say to Daniil on Day 11 when he asks how she was able to get to Peter's loft unscathed: "I can walk through bullets and flames." It's so needlessly dramatic and untrue but also EXACTLY the kind of thing Clara would say to hype herself up XD

brOTP: I will constantly remind people that Classic tells us that she has a friendship with Sticky and Murky. The fact that the devs either ran out of time or simply forgot to show us this friendship in Changeling Route is one of the saddest missed opportunities of the whole game T_T

OTP: I don't really "ship" Clara with anyone, but I do think Clara/Grace is cute. Creepy neurodivergent girl relationships are always a win in my book, and honestly I could see these two getting together when they grow up.

nOTP: I'm not gonna get into this in detail here, but for the love of god people STOP FUCKING SHIPPING HER WITH BLOCK, OR ANY OF THE OTHER THE ADULTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

random headcanon: I truly do adore the idea of her having pet rats 🐀🐀🐀

unpopular opinion: I don't believe her going away with Commander Block is in any way the "good ending" for her. He certainly cares about her, more than the vast majority of the other characters even, but also literally says to her face that he wants bring her into a WAR solely because he too is so consumed by religious prophesies that he believes this malnourished teenage girl will be able to lead his troops to victory with her miraculous powers! What I'm saying is that he's got the spirit, but is also basically just as insane as the Saburovs when it comes to how he chooses to see her.

song i associate with them: As far as I'm concerned "Crucify" by Tori Amos and "Precious" by Depeche Mode are basically Clara's two theme songs. They just fit her storyline SO PERFECTLY T_T

Somsnosa:

favorite thing about them: I can't go into too much detail about this since you haven't listened to Absent Moon yet, but I love how much actual character development (and even character regression) she goes through in this series. Considering how extremely space characterization is in this series, that's very impressive!

least favorite thing about them: Nothing. She's literally perfect 💙

favorite line: Oh man I dunno... "Oh hey Wayne. I left my magic gauntlets in the basement... and now its infested with ambulant skulls." is a very iconic line from the Hylics 1. Wonderfully absurd premise for a "mission," and it's unique in how it implies her and Wayne already know each other!

brOTP: Wayne, Pongorma, and Dedusmuln

OTP: Wayne, Pongorma, and Dedusmuln. They're all in a queerplatonic polycule together 💛💙❤️💚

nOTP: Gibby and/or Odozier, I guess.

random headcanon: Her cat in H1 is named Bug. Unlike Wayne's cat it doesn't own the house she resides in, but does help her hunt insects on occasion and has agreed to guard her fridge as long as it gets free access to any fish held inside.

unpopular opinion: I don't think I even have one lol

song i associate with them: Since I'm nearly done making a character mixtape for her, I'll go ahead and say "The World Backwards" by Broadcast. Both the melody and the lyrics give me major Somsnosa vibes, largely because I imagine her being the one singing it.

Reah/Rhea of Thorolund:

favorite thing about them: Her determination for sure. When you find her in the pit Patches kicks you down into she's the only one of her party who's kept her sanity, and I always read her request for you to put down Hollowed Vince and Nico as less of her lacking the skills to do so on her part and more so that she can't bring herself to kill her two friends herself. Also that one line she says to you in the parish about how she's lost everyone she's ever cared about really hit me emotionally when I least expected it T_T

least favorite thing about them: How we never actually get to SEE her preform any of the powerful miracles she teaches us, even when we aggro her. My assumption is that she wants to be a pacifist whenever she can, which makes sense for her character and explains why she brought knights along with her to do all the dirty work for her, but still I hate being denied women showing off their powers, and she clearly has them!

favorite line: I always loved her end of conversation line in the parish: "Vereor nox." Which translates (roughly) to "Fear the night." It's a cool line by itself, but also does so much to tell us how Reah's viewpoint on the state of this dying world and how she's aligned with linking the fire without her having to outright tell us.

brOTP: Vince and Nico for sure!

OTP: Like with Soms & the Crew, I too enjoy the idea of her having wanted to be in a polycule with her two friends, only it was never meant to be due to the mission they would never return from.

nOTP: I hope I never stumble upon anyone who ships her with Petrus...

random headcanon: The reason Vince and Nico were chosen to be Reah's knights was because she specifically requested it to her father, the ruler of Thorolund. Petrus, however, she has no close relationship with. She let him join the mission out of pity, since after he naturally died and became undead this mission would be his only way out of being carted off to an asylum.

unpopular opinion: Reah is NOT innocent. She may prefer to be a lonesome pacifist, but there's no way in hell she's a fully helpless little maiden. Only the highest ranking clerics are given the mission to seek the Rite of Kindling, and she is objectively the most powerful in her squad thanks to the ivory talisman she carries and which Petrus wants to desperately to steal for himself. She also has a frankly absurd amount of humanity held within her if you steal it via the dark hand: 12 to be exact. That's more than Sieglinde, the only character canonically not an undead, and much more than Lautrec, Patches, and Maneater Mildred, the three of which all having so much because they're MURDERERS! Reah fucking stole humanity from many undead to reach that number, either by her own hands or using her knights to harvest them for her. She hates herself for what she's done for the sake of the mission, but she still let it happen...

song i associate with them: I... honestly haven't thought of that yet. Let's pray that maybe one day it'll come to me 🙏

[fideidefenswhore]

There is a saying that when Anne Boleyn was not the queen, she had greater power than the queen's three years. What do you think?

I think this rather limits the sphere of influence of royal woman (or, as it was for the former period, royal-in-waiting, Anne was a noblewoman, not a royal one, until she became Queen); to, how to put this...the 'domestic'?

Ie, it's known that Henry had mistresses while Anne was Queen, but not queen-in-waiting; I feel like when this is argued that's mainly what the gist of the argument is, she was his ultimate priority and singular love, then they married and the 'chase ran out' and the disillusionment was quick and debasing. And so her influence reduced concurrently.

And...while I find that summary rather specious anyways on whole, for the sake of argument, even if the former part were true, political power is something else. Queen-in-waiting was Anne at "I beseech your grace with all my heart to remember the parson of Honey Lane for my sake shortly", Queen Anne was Anne at seven of her own evangelical clients appointed bishops. After the fall of Wolsey we get "above all, the Lady Anne" re: Henry's councilors from the French ambassador, after Anne becomes Queen we get the contemporary remarks that she has the most influence with the King, beyond any other person, her time in power is referred to as her "reign". Even contemporary remarks after her fall are testament to the influence she had as Queen, "the fall of Queen Anne was like the fall of Lucifer", a parallel to God's most favoured angel being cast down...nobody remarks that it was evident her power had diminished once she married Henry.

Tl;dr, even following the paradigm of loss of love = loss of influence, I don't think...we have that much evidence of the former; the narrative is popular...well, because it's popular, if that makes sense? There's not much of an attempt to understand Henry as his own person, as an individual, particularly when it comes to his relationships with his wives. He was very ostentatious about what he felt for Anne: he "preferred the love of the queen to half his realm", he would "beg alms door to door" before he would forsake her, it's easy to dismiss this all as Henry being glib, knowing the ending, however...I believe he felt and meant these sentiments in the moments he said them, despite that, I think even had the ending been different, these expressions were both to Anne's benefit and detriment, really-- she was regarded as someone whose favour it was important to gain and keep circa as early as 1528, at the latest, all the way through to the end... but because of the common bruit of them, she was also, sometimes solely, blamed for Henry's unpopular decisions.

[endingboyhansel]

Next up in my semi popular series Hänsel Analysis, where I analyse characters and such that are normally underrated or unpopular or just interesting, we’re talking Kaspar Blankenheim.

Kaspar is a bit of a unique case here as he never gets any proper screen time. He has no lines of dialogue and we never see him while he’s alive. We know that he cheated a lot, that he took advantage of Margarita for her money, and that he was among the first she ever poisoned with Gift.

Seems a bit of an asshole, doesn’t he? You’re right. Yet of course we should try and interpret more of Kaspar’s past to understand what makes him the way he is. Maybe make a good interpretation of this blue haired bastard.

Speaking of blue haired bastards, let’s address the elephant in the room. We know that Margarita - the real one - died at birth, and was replaced by the Clockworker’s Doll, at the time occupied by Eve Moonlit. We know “Margarita” was drawn to Kaspar due to his similarities to Adam. Yet did you know this is the only time in the series when Eve - by herself - is drawn to an Adam lookalike? Platonic, though replaced by Eve, shows no intrigue in Carlos. Mikulia Calgaround never met an Adam lookalike. Michaela, though an Eve lookalike, was not replaced by Eve, though Kyle, an Adam lookalike, did fall in love with her. So why here in particular does Eve and an Adam lookalike have this connection? Is it because of the wooden ring? Whatever the reason, there is some connection between Margarita and Kaspar.

There are several OSS characters and references floating around at this point though:

Kaspar - Adam lookalike Margarita - Eve replacement Mayrana - follows the Meta sect Lemy - Hänsel reincarnation “Ney” - Gretel’s identity Julia - Irina's identity Hanne - Elluka’s identity

As well as some Pride Arc references:

Gatt - descendant of Gast Rin - Riliane lookalike

Back with Kaspar though. It’s very obvious that Kaspar must have had insecurities. To backtrack on his past, his father Kaidor murdered his mother for cheating on him when presumably Kaspar was still extremely young. After that, Kaidor ran away, and Kaspar was taken in by his uncle Karl, who became Marquis himself.

Did Kaspar know he was adopted? If no, then he would have been prideful. If yes, he would have been bitter towards his true father. Either way works. We know very little about Kaspar’s teenage years, however it must have felt extremely lonely. The only named friend we know he had is a fellow Marquis called Cle Mence who attends his funeral. You could make the case that Kaspar in general had difficulties in speaking with people and kept to higher classes, which explains his friendship with Cle as well as his several marriage candidates.

I would say he takes a lot for granted as he entrusts Margarita to do everything around the mansion, he is indeed a spoiled rich boy. Though here’s something telling. Kaspar does have elements of the three chronological sinners so far. He presents lust in the several mistresses he has, gluttony in how he wastes his fortune on cigars and luxuries, and pride in his general brazen attitude. Of course he also embodies greed, though it is interesting how he incorporates the earlier sins as well.

His attitude towards Père Noël is also interesting. Upon joining, we know that he owns Grim the End, and hands it over to Irina. Of course, Grim the End is the residence of Seth and - well - Adam. Kaspar has had the soul of Adam in his possession the entire time. There is no way in the Hellish Yard that he wasn’t somewhat aware of the true power of Grim the End. We’ve seen characters be influenced by the vessels before and after this, and we have Lemy at the same time speaking with Gretel through the Glass of Conchita. It is entirely possible, of course, that he had been manipulated through Seth and Adam depending on how long he’s owned the key. Grim the End appears to be Kaspar’s own possession considering he sells off Margarita’s, so you can assume he’s had it for a long time. Well, it was Kaidor’s himself, so of course he has.

Kaspar generally doesn’t have a lot to go off from. But he isn’t just some character you hear about once and disappears forever. There is a story, a substance towards him. A loneliness feeding on despair that leads to sin if you think about it that way. He isn’t someone to be pitied. But at the same time he can be interpreted as a very intriguing character.

And give him some dialogue, mothy, don’t be a coward.

[eonash]

An Awkward Reunion

Father!Professor Turo x Daughter!Reader

Prompt: “Hi.” : “Hi? I have to find out that my dad is not my real dad, that I was living a lie my whole life and that my father is a strange man and then I meet the strange man and everything he has to say is ‘Hi’?”

Warnings: Angst, fluff ending

Word Count: 1,080

A/N: unpopular opinion; i honestly see professor turo as my dad more than anything- also this fic wasn’t meant to be this long

Master List | Tag List

@gaminggirlsstuff @alexxavicry

~

Director Clavell had called Y/N into his office. She was in her dorm room at the time that she was called and she flinched at her name being heard at the loudspeakers.

Instead of wasting any time, Y/N decided to go on ahead and enter the Director’s office.

“Director?” Y/N asked, opening the door to his office. The Director was standing by a pile of papers on the many computer desks that were seen before his official office desk.

He turned to look at her before smiling. “Y/N, I am glad to see you.” He greeted, he kept his hands close to his side.

“You wanted to see me?” Y/N asked, looking around the small room. She always felt anxious being in his office, even when the Director was a fantastic principal of the academy.

“Yes,” The Director began. “There was something I have been meaning to tell you for a while now and now that we have the required information… I can now inform you of said information.”

“Okay?” Y/N stood up straight, she was now more confused than ever about what was truly going on.

“Your biological father, Professor Turo, has come back from Area Zero.” The Director went on. “He is situated in his lab on Poco Path. I am sure you can take Miraidon there and greet him.”

Y/N was taken back by the Director's calm reply. “Wait…” Y/N began, she looked around the room desperately. Was this a joke? “How is that possible? You do know that my dad is Mr. Jacq right?” Y/N chuckled with a bit of uncertainty and anxiousness.

The Director simply shook his head, “No, Y/N. Mr. Jacq took you in, he has presented himself to be your father for some time now. Nobody has wanted to burden you with the news that your true father, Professor Turo, was off on his own, piled with his research and busy stranded out in the future world making note of future-related Pokémon.”

All the words from the Director were now shooting Y/N straight to her heart. She was still utterly lost.

“I know it is a lot to take in, Y/N…”

“Please stop.” Y/N begged, not even bothering to take a glance at the Director now, she shook her head and ran straight out of the office.

When Y/N got out of academy, she threw out Miradon’s pokéball. Miradon let out a small roar and lifted its head up high. It then came up to Y/N greeting her with a comforting head-snuggle. Miradon then backed away and noticed that Y/N’s eyes were filled with tears. Miradon tilted its head, its solemn look made it look worried.

Y/N put her hand on Miradon’s head. It shook with happiness. It then turned around, readying for a mounting. “We have to go to the lab on Poco Path. You know where it is, don't you?” Y/N asked, hopping onto Miradon’s back. Miradon growled happily in response. “Good.” Y/N said.

Miradon shifted into its motorcycle-appearance taking off immediately, its wheels moving as fast as they could go and Y/N occasionally boosting the speed of Miradon. It didn’t take long before Y/N made it to Poco Path.

Y/N instinctively jumped off Miradon and grabbed its pokéball. “Thank you for your help, Miradon.” Y/N smiled. Miradon happily gave a small noise and returned back to its pokéball.

Y/N then gave a sign and turned around to the lab behind her. She started walking towards it and hesitated at the front door. She gave a small knock, but when there was no answer, she went ahead to open the door and head inside.

The lab room was not a lab that Y/N expected to see, there was a whiteboard full of a bunch of equations and a computer with way too many monitors in the back of the room. There was also a lounging area. Y/N coughed from the sudden intake of dust around her and wagged her hand around to be rid of it.

Footsteps were suddenly heard from behind and Y/N turned around to them. A man with a long white lab coat and futuristic onesie with purple entered the lab. He kept his hands in his coat pockets and approached Y/N slowly.

“Are you Professor Turo?” Y/N asked, looking the man up and down. Surely this man couldn’t be her true biological father… unless it was…

“Hi.”

“Hi? I have to find out that my dad is not my real dad, that I was living a lie my whole life and that my father is a strange man and then I meet the strange man and everything he has to say is ‘Hi’?”

Turo walked around the small abandoned space. He thought for a moment before picking up a photo from off one of the back tables in the room. He stared at it for a moment before turning back to Y/N with the photo in his hand.

“Yes…?” The man was awkward at this moment, something Y/N never expected. The whole situation itself must have been a shock to the other man as well.

Y/N sighed. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I guess I should have expected that.”

Turo placed the photo back in its original spot and placed his hands on the table. “Look, Y/N,” He began standing up straight, but not beginning to turn back to look at Y/N now. “I am… sorry… I left you so long ago I– it was never my intention to hurt you or leave you for that matter.” Turo put his head down and sighed.

Y/N let her hands fall to her side. “I don’t blame you…” Y/N said finally. Turo turned around to her and looked straight at her. “I will admit it has been hard,” Y/N gestured around the room. “This whole… whatever.”

“I know.” Turo admitted. Y/N looked up to him, she started walking towards him now. Turo just watched as she made her way over to him. Y/N smiled and threw herself on him. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him ever so tightly. Turo was taken back by this action, but hugged Y/N back.

“I’ll say, I can’t wait to get to know you, dad.”

Turo smiled. “Same here.”

[clarenecessities]

ummmm what about. uhhh those women from the supergirl show. now that i type that im pretty sure one of them is supergirl

oh, buddy. yes, one of them is supergirl.

disclaimer: i have never and will never watch the cw's supergirl, bc i love myself

What made you ship it?

well it TURNS OUT that there's a lot of overlap in Supercorp shippers and Catradora shippers, for some reason. can't imagine why! [puts a blanket over my venn diagram's cage]

so i went a little insane after she-ra came out (you remember) and read about 6k fics, just scrolling through the tag with some filters on & clicking on anything that looked interesting. it was a very interesting time in our lives. a lot of me going "huh? whah?" in call. birth of the scorpia disclaimer.

but eventually i ran out of she-ra fics. and i like... i couldn't stop, you know? and it turns out that some of the best she-ra authors have written a lot of supergirl fics. so it kept coming up when i was on author-specific binges. and i got curious! i'm a curious guy!

and then it turns out they're really cute >:( they're adorable, damn it.

ik i'm never gonna be able to drag you into this hole with me, since you already have a designated CW trainwreck, but if you're ever feeling bored the first one i ever read was really fucking funny and requires zero knowledge of canon. i didn't know alex's pronouns until halfway through bc i'd never heard of her (literally supergirl's sister). initially i clicked on it bc "superhero pretends to date her civilian identity" sounded hysterical but like... kara is so sweet, and so socially inept. and lena is a human disaster who just wants to help. and they both have crippling abandonment issues and no chill whatsoever

What are your favorite things about the ship?

i like that they appreciate each other. the version of them that i've constructed piecemeal from other people's opinions is such that like... they've both been pretty miserable, right? lena watched her mom die when she was like 4 years old and then got adopted by the luthors, kara watched her planet explode & pawned off by clark (who was like 30 years older than he was supposed to be bc of DC bullshit) on some human family and had to pretend to be normal for a decade or so.

and they both hide that pretty well, kara with kindness and lena with unapproachable businesswoman...ness... but they're both immediately fascinated by each other. and they're both sort of genuine with each other, even when they're in 'nice but bumbling civilian' or 'ruthless luthor' mode. so where it gets interesting for me is those moments they reach a mutual understanding of something, or where they trust each other in spite of Every Other Thing.

in like their first meeting lena says she's just a woman trying to make a name for herself outside of her family & asks if they can understand and kara is like "🥺 yeah..." and like they were just kind of fucked from there. sigh. you don't know how good you have it with riverdale polycule man. fuckin CW.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

i have many but the one that comes up most often isn't an opinion, it's a fact.

“khap zhao rrip” is fucking nonsense. it does not mean 'i love you'. it's SVO instead of VSO and zhao is a noun why are you even including kyrptahniuo if you're just going to find-and-replace random words.

listen. listen to me. zhaoivodh khap rrip. it is literally easier than french. nobody fucking does it right logan it makes me feel insane

[hinny-canons]

Ship ask

Ron and hermione and harry and ginny

I SHIP BOTH OF THEM WITH MY WHOLE HEART🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Romione

what made you ship it?

i think what attracted me was their dynamic. They were always bickering from afar, it seemed as if they hated each other, but they care for each other so much that they would do anything to protect each other.

what are your favourite things about the ship?

I loved the way Ron always jumped to defend Hermione without thinking twice about it. Like every time Kreacher ran his mouth about having “mud bloods” in the house, Ron would always shut Kreacher up. I also love how Hermione looks at him so adoringly when he talks compassionately. Like when he talked about saving the house elves in the Battle of Hogwarts and Hermione straight up kissed him!!

an unpopular opinion you have on this ship?

i don’t really have one lmaooo! maybe i’ll update this part if i think of one!

Hinny

what made you ship it?

i’ve been shipping them since childhood so i don’t really remember what it was exactly. something about them made me feel attached to them from the moment i first saw them.

what are your favourite things about this ship?

there’s a million things! the way Ginny would do embarrassing things in front of Harry and he just pretended he didn’t see it or when he described Ginny’s blush as “glowing like the setting sun”. the moment in the library when Ginny gave Harry advice on Cho despite having a crush on him. the moment they kissed and Harry described it as feeling like “several sunlit days”. the way Harry thought about Ginny all the time on the Horcrux hunt and even right before he died. the way Harry and Ginny just know how to comfort each other and be there for each other even when their not dating. phew.

an unpopular opinion you have on this ship?

I don’t think this is exactly unpopular it’s the only thing I can think of. I understand that all Harry wanted when he broke up with Ginny was to protect her and keep her safe. However, I will always say that she was perfectly capable of protecting herself and would have been in danger, together with Harry or not. Sometimes, I even think she would have been great to bring along on the Horcrux hunt. that would have been amazing.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Unpopular opinion atm I think.

I have loved Taylor forever. I found out about 1975 through her back in 2014 and i have loved them both.

However… “I think I’ve seen this film before and I didn’t like the ending…”

Tom.

I was so… annoyed at how that played out and then she wrote getaway car and that made me even more annoyed because I love him as an actor. But I figured… she’s young. Rebounds happen. It’s unfortunate he got used and tossed away when it was clear he loved her… only to be left for a total doorknob who ended up making her feel like she was nothing…

But now…

I am HOPING this isn’t true and they’re together or they’re just trying to play the media and fans for some privacy because the last month has been absolute hell…

But if it’s not and they broke up… seeing him perform 102 and how he practically ran off stage afterwards… I don’t know how to like her as a person at this point. One guy when she’s in her 20s… okay. But in her 30s? It’s cruel. Matty did not deserve it. Not at all. Fans or not… I don’t believe he ended this. I believe if they did break up.. it was her choice and she chose her fans and career over him.

Which is… not okay.

I have definitely lost respect for the fans of Taylor and I am more than happy to never be apart of that group again.

But this…

Poor Matty.

I get what you’re saying and I was confused by the Tom thing too cuz I’ve loved him since Deep Blue Sea (so glad that he’s found his person and is happy now). But we don’t really know what happened here. Maybe Matty wasn’t a rebound. Maybe HE ended it? Maybe she really thought there was something between them but changed her mind? Maybe the pressure of their careers and the online stuff ruined things before they even started. So, I think we should maybe give her the benefit of the doubt.

Plus, if he WAS a rebound to her then she’s a human being. People do these things sometimes. Especially since she had just ended things with Joe after 6 years which sounds pretty rough. She’s earned the right to just do things and not have to worry about the optics and stuff. So I wouldn’t judge her for it.

Those swiftie haters may wanna ruin Matty’s life forever, but as far as I’m concerned, the 1975 fans shouldn’t hold anything against Taylor.

[justastrugglinghotchocolate]

I HEAR YOU. VICTORIA FOR THE CHARACTER ASK *grabby hands* gimme gimme

THANK YOU THANK YOU NICO YOU ABSOLUTE ANGEL

Favorite Thing: My favorite thing about her is that we know so little about her, yet because she married Henry and stayed in that relationship, we know so much. Firstly, she definitely knows all about his little experiments and all the dumb bs he likes spewing. Secondly, her existence completely undermines Henry’s persona, because if he were actually as bad as he likes to say he was, then she would not have stuck with him for as long as she did.

Least Favorite Thing: We don’t get enough of her :(. I want more Victoria!!! >:( Oh and every academic examination begins and ends with “Oh, she’s just a parallel to Wilde’s wife” and uhhh fuck that noise??? I just think that’s very indicative of how sexist academia can be and reductive of an extremely interesting character.

Favorite Line: “They all are, aren't they? Even those that are born in England become foreigners after a time, don't they?” This is referring to pianists btw.

brOTP: Basil and Victoria would be friends for sure, mainly because of their mutual connection to Henry, but also because both can and will absolutely destroy him when he does something particularly stupid.

OTP: Uhhh, Victoria on her own? Idk, there really isn’t anyone that I think she’d really be into. I guess the guy she ran off with is a pretty good choice.

nOTP: Victoria and Henry. I think they’re better as friends and only married because they had to and if they had to be stuck, they’d be stuck together.

Random Headcanon: She’s actually quite similar to Henry, but being a woman in Victorian times, doesn’t employ her own manipulations nearly as much as Henry. Also she wanted to be a physician but her status and gender prevented her from doing so in her time. Oh and she knew Dorian was bad news the moment she met him--that's why she so nervous when they first meet--his vibes were off-putting, lol.

Unpopular Opinion: Victoria wasn’t actually the one to initiate the divorce. She suggested it after having an affair with the pianist mentioned in the book, but it was more in fear of ruining both of their reputations. Henry was the one who actually made it happen, going as far to take the blame of the marriage falling apart as a final notion of goodwill towards her.

Song I associate With Them: “Sculptures of Anything Goes” by Arctic Monkeys and “Slow Down” by Laufey

Favorite Picture: I don’t have one yet, but I am designing her for my Mythology AU! (She has a spear >:3)

[malewife-overlord]

Six Cycles Later -- Part VI

Summary: There's a sparkeater loose in Autobot City. Uptick has no choice but to deal with it and calls upon an old friend for aid.

Word count: 6529

Trigger warnings: robot gore, cannibalism, sparkeater being a sparkeater

Previous chapter can be found here, start (and an explanation of what six cycles later is) can be found here.

Fic under cut!

“Worried” would be the wrong word for describing how he felt. Uptick tapped his pede impatiently outside of the clinic, checking its virtual queue every thirty seconds. Forty full minutes had passed since he’d arrived to pick Luster up, and there was still no word from anyone about his progress. 

To say that he was “worried” would be an understatement.

He vented sharply and sent a query to the front desk again, requesting information on the mnemosurgery in Room I12. Almost immediately, the worker pinged him back with the pre-recorded response she’d made twenty minutes ago: mnemosurgery was a complex thing, and until the doctor indicated it was safe for them to contact him, no one was to enter the room or disturb him. Any interruptions could mean the end of the patient, the doctor, or both at once. His concern was noted and rest assured they were doing everything to ensure that his ward was taken care of. 

Six. Hours. If that didn’t scream something was wrong, he didn’t know what did. Mnemosurgery was complex, but it didn’t take six hours to perform. He knew because he himself had undergone it several times. Even extended mnemosurgery visits tended to last no more than an hour–the most talented could rewrite a mind in just a few minutes. 

Uptick couldn’t say he knew much about Redactor, but he’d checked his credentials the moment he’d left the clinic, which indicated he’d been practicing for at least ten thousand years. If he wasn’t experienced, then Uptick himself wasn’t even a real soldier. 

Well, he wasn’t anymore, but the fact still stood. Something had happened, he just knew it. And if the bots in the clinic were too stubborn–no, too concerned–to try checking in, then he would himself. 

And he knew just how to get in.

It was mid-day in Autobot City, slowly creeping towards the evening. The shadows had not yet grown long; in fact, most were still attempting to retreat from the afternoon sun. The season was beginning to shift from what humans referred to as “summer” to “fall”, which meant the sunlight would become more sparse and the night would come sooner. But that wasn’t for another few cycles, which meant when he stood by the edge of the clinic, there were no shadows to hide him–and thus, keep suspicion off of him. 

No, he was a completely normal enforcer and Autobot, he had no reason to stand in the shadows. And he certainly wasn’t about to contact someone with a fairly detailed history of crime. Who would do that? 

Still, he checked to ensure no other mechs were around. The clinic was housed in one of Metroplex’s corners, bordering a wall and a morgue, so it was a particularly unpopular location. The street that ran by it was not even worthy of being called a street, really. This played to his advantage: such an area was unlikely to attract unwanted attention, and thus–

Primus, was he truly thinking like this now? The war was over. He gave his helm a knock and reminded himself that she’d been pardoned, as had he, and contacting her wasn’t illegal. 

Though, his request certainly was.

Pulling up Channel’s contact in his HUD, he promptly called it. It would be a long distance contact, so he expected a long wait, but surprisingly, after only twenty seconds, they connected properly. 

She answered after three rings, as she always did. He was immediately met with the background ring of drilling.

“Tickers, I hope you got a good reason for callin’ me at this time.”

"Channel!” He smiled despite the fact that she couldn’t see him. “It's good to hear your voice! I hope you're doing well, I need--"

"Hold that thought, Tickers, I just found the lil' fraggers responsible for this entire operation. Get...over...here...you...little!" Her voice quieted for a moment as she grunted and hissed. "Ow! Come on--oh, stop squirmin', you, you know you ain't feelin' nothin' right now—almost—ha!" 

An angry squeak deafened the line accompanied by the tearing of metal. Uptick's optical ridges furrowed in concern. 

"What are you doing?" He asked. “Are you, uh, with a patient?”

“You can call ‘em that, sure. Hey, you can get up now, the fraggers are out. " Her voice grew a little distant as she continued. "Soak in some fresh water for a few hours 'n lemme know if the itchin' comes back. Aight, go on 'n get now."

He heard another voice say something unintelligible, followed by the sound of pedes. Then Channel vented, a clacking and angry chittering joining her as she spoke. 

"Sparklets, Tickers. I just pulled sparklets outta that ‘bot’s chassis.” 

“You’re still practicing medicine? Didn’t you–”

“It ain’t medicine,” she interrupted. “It’s fixin’, there’s a difference. One only needs wits ‘n the other wants fourteen-hundred kilocycles ‘a school. Who out here got time for that nowadays?” 

She huffed. 

“Sparklets, Tickers. Not scraplets, sparklets. They're straight up evolvin' to start tryin' to eat sparks. What’s a doc gonna say, take four an call in the mornin’? You’ll be drained fully before then!" An echo of a dozen little sparklets being tossed in a cage sounded. "Yeesh, I tell you, I've fought on fifty different planets n' ten times that many battlefields, an' I ain't seen as many weird things up there as I have down here. The nerve a' this planet n' it's creatures!" 

Finally, she leaned against something, her plating creaking in response to the action, and grumbled. "Alright, present n' willin'. What're you callin' about?"

He did a quick scan to check for anyone listening before speaking. "For a favor, Channel, if you would be willing to hear me out. You know I’m trying to stay clean with this work--"

"Yeah yeah, I know. You ain't boutta ask me to disable another Energon vault lock, are ya? Roddy Prime's pardon had some fine print, I tell you, an' that print states I lose my immunity if I go around unlockin' more vaults. I ain't gettin' in trouble 'cuz you got a fueling problem, Tickers, sorry."

"No, it's nothing like that," he frowned, sounding hurt. "I've worked on my habit, you know this, Channel. I'm clean! I've been clean since..."

A pause. He didn't want to say that name, and he knew Channel didn't want to either. She was quiet, which was uncharacteristic of her. 

"Since the end of the war," he finally finished. "No more of that."

"Aight then, what're you wantin' me to pick, then? You got about fifteen kliks—sorry, MINUTES, since they're wantin' us to convert to Earth time—before my next patient, Tickers. Try 'n make this quick, yeah?"

"Right, of course. I...wait, you have another–" His scanners picked up on a motorcycle driving by and a nurse walking out of the clinic on break. His optics narrowed slightly. "I'll push you a data package. Can you open your receptors?"

"Ooh. Gotcha. One sec, lemme check the connection–” He felt a slight zing in his head, like a spark had tapped against it, “--alright, we ain’t bein’ watched. Send it over." She opened her link, and he promptly created a data package, wrapping it up with two passwords before pushing it her way. 

It took her about four seconds to break them both. 

"...that's it?" She said with a laugh. "That's nothin'. They don't even double encrypt their files, system's so new."

"How long will it–wait, how do you know about thei–"

"Twenty-four seconds the moment I'm on their network. You gonna hand me the address or I gotta find it myself?"

"I’m…concerned, Channel…" 

“Don’t be. Their fault for bein’ outdated. Get me a frequency and I’ll connect to it.”

Venting, he sent another request to the worker at the front, immediately being met with the same response from her. Instead of accepting the message, he sent it Channel’s way, who took all of five seconds to link to it.

The feeling of her transferring from his connection onto the clinic’s was strange, but it was something he’d become adapted to long ago. Channel could ride the wavelengths between Cybertronians like a meteor surfer. It wasn’t ever too pleasant for whoever she happened to surf upon, but one quickly grew used to the sensation of a slight weight at the edge of their mind. If she was being careful, he wouldn’t feel it, whether he wanted to or not.

Truth be told, that aspect scared him more than some Decepticons, but he tried not to think on it. Channel was an Autobot, and she wouldn’t use her powers maliciously. He hoped. 

"Wow," he heard her say over their connection. "This thing's got more holes than a chronic driller. Aight, gimme twenty-four." 

Their connection closed, her weight disappearing from his mind. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the clinic, tapping his pede even faster as he anxiously awaited her return. Five seconds, ten seconds, fifte–

A voice suddenly sounded to his right.

"Hey, you're Uptick, right?" The nurse from before was walking over, a thermos of Energon held in his hand. "Luster's guardian? I've read your file." When Uptick nodded, he frowned. “I’m guessing you’re waiting on him.”

"Ah. Yes, I am. You wouldn't happen to know anything about his current...treatment, would you?" He asked. "I can't say I'm a mnemosurgery expert, but it has been a while since he was admitted, and I'm just a little concerned--"

"Oh, don’t worry," the nurse said cheerfully. "Redactor's good at what he does, and he's got Epistaxis as his assistant. She's the nursing director for this week, and I've never heard a single complaint about her. He's in good servos, promise. But if you really want, I can probably ask her how it’s going. The secretary said you’ve been out here for what, half an hour now?"

He wanted to trust the mech's words so badly. Luster was in good servos, he had to be, but something at the back of his processor told him otherwise. Six hours without a single update on anything, even just that the surgeon was tired. That didn't make sense. 

"I–" he was going to correct the other mech when Channel suddenly called back, startling him. I, ah, yes! Please do ask! I, uh, have a call, please, excuse me.” 

The nurse dipped his helm and headed to the clinic doors, downing his Energon swiftly before vanishing into them. Uptick gave him a polite grin until he vanished, then promptly turned away from the street and headed into the alley. 

The moment he answered Channel’s call, she spoke.

"I'm in," she announced, pushing him an encrypted data pack. "Here's everything they've recorded since this mornin'. You lookin' for something specific now or--"

He hadn't even managed to start on the first of her five passwords before she stopped. 

"Hold up...what in the...well, I'll be."

"What's the matter?"

"There's this one nurse, Epistaxis." Without waiting she sent him a string of unencrypted data, everything he'd need to know about the head nurse—​appearance, occupation, age, forging city, years of work, monetary value​, favorite color, favorite Energon flavor, and morning timetable. "Check out her schedule."

He gave it a look over and grimaced—some of the patients she was seeing were on full display. Returning his expression to neutral, he vented. That was private information, and he wasn't keen on invading the space of others for long. 

"Channel, this has nothing to do with Luster--"

"No, no, it does. Look. Luster was her fourth patient a' the day. An' now look at the rest 'a her schedule. Missin'. She ain't showed up to any 'a her appointments since she saw him."

His spark felt cold. "Channel, what about--"

"Already lookin' into him. Redactor, right? Mnemosurgeon, fresh offa Cybertron. Rich story, that one. Most recent victim of an Autobot prison break." She huffed. "Alright, there he is—​wow, clear schedule for the day, just work on your mech. Looks innocent eno--"

She stopped. Before he could even speak the data was jammed through their connection and flooded his head. Uptick had to blink a few times as his processor attempted to focus entirely on its new contents and momentarily shut off his external senses. 

"Gentle, Channel, please--"

"He's missin', Tickers."

And that made him shut up, letting his optics blur and his senses dull as he dove into the data. Redactor's schedule was cleared for the day as Channel had said, with his focus to be entirely on Luster. But there were periodic checkpoints he was required to update as he went along. The first of these had been at 11am. 

He hadn't even made the first. 

"They're both missing," he said aloud, then immediately shut himself up. No one was nearby, but Uptick didn't quite trust that everything was fine. "Channel, can you--"

"Camera's ain't in use in patient rooms, Tickers."

"Then I...why haven't they told me? Why haven't they alerted me? If they're both missing--"

"Maybe they're hidin' something. You seen any other Enforcers around?"

"No, I...I haven't." 

Hiding something. If they were hiding something, they wouldn't have alerted any of the Enforcers. Word spread quickly once those like him were alerted. But what could they want with Luster that was worth hiding?

Whatever it was, he didn't like it. Something was wrong, and he wasn't the type to let it pass idly by, taking everyone he was supposed to protect with it. Uptick turned back to the clinic’s front and frowned. The information he'd acquired was done so illegally, he couldn't just waltz in demanding anything, not if he wanted to keep his position. 

"Channel, help me think of a--"

"Hold that thought, Tickers, I've got another patient to deal with. Call you once I'm sure he ain't a wannabe Prowl."

Their connection severed before he could protest. Uptick blinked a few times, steadying himself. The nurse who’d offered to check on Luster, what about him? He tried to ping the secretary, asking to see the fellow, only to be given her pre-recorded response again. Frustrated, he balled a fist and stormed for the doors, prepared to demand to speak with someone real.

Which was right about when the alarm went off.

----------------------------------

The warning came just as he'd reached the back of Autobot City, a full hour after he'd originally expected it to. It blared over his systems, momentarily drowning out the endless screech of his notifications with its message: 

A SPARKEATER HAS INFILTRATED AUTOBOT CITY. LOCKDOWN INITIATED. ALL CITIZENS SEEK SHELTER.

There it was, that damn word that he didn't want to speak or think, that reminded him of just how bad his situation was. The word that made it impossible for him to call this place home. The word that defined the mystery of his past and made him wonder if he'd ever really been a true Cybertronian. 

He'd run out of time here. And he wasn't even close to properly escaping it. 

Escaping the clinic hadn’t been easy. It had taken him hours to quietly drill through the back wall, creating a small hole that had opened into the back alley. He’d lucked out in the clinic’s location–it’s back alley joined with the space behind the morgue, which then led to a back street that he’d followed to Autobot City’s waste disposal site. It had taken a lot of dumpster pushing and a lifetime of mini spark-attacks, but he’d really done it:

he’d escaped that damned clinic with his captive, and no one had seen him do it.

Redactor was a constant weight on his tentacles, two of which had wrapped around his body and moved to drag him behind. He'd tried to carry him, but the two weren't sufficient for the task, and using all four would leave him vulnerable. He needed his weapons in case anyone found him. If they found him, they'd try to stop him, and with how much his processor was screaming, he didn't know how long he could keep himself from giving in. 

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCESEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCESEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCESEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCESEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCESEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCESEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCESEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCESEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

It had stopped feeling like a suggestion the moment he revealed himself. With such a constant screaming the only way for him to take his mind off of the order was to focus on what was directly at hand. He wasn't thinking anymore—he was acting, and reacting. 

That was why poor Epistaxis was passed out on the clinic floor, her chassis completely torn to shreds. He’d managed to keep from damaging her spark chamber, but the more he’d torn the harder it had been to stop. She’d been alive when he’d left with Redactor. He could only hope that would stay true.

He didn’t know how long he’d be able to say the same for himself. 

The waste disposal site was large enough to hide him for now, but it was undeniable that they’d find him eventually. He couldn’t hide his spark signature, and he had an entire other Autobot with him. Once they started scanning they’d find them both. 

Where could he run? The bar? Not with a captive. His room? Why wouldn’t it be the first place they checked? The clinic? Nope, absolutely not.

Which meant the only place to go was out. 

He dragged Redactor (who, through some miracle, was still out) through the waste disposal site, feeling his tentacles strain as they pulled his frame past piles of trash. Had he gotten heavier? It hadn’t been too long a walk, right? He was hungry (starving, some might say), but surely, if he’d had enough energy to escape the clinic, he’d have the energy to escape the city, right? 

Climbing over a few mounds of trash, he found himself face to face with one of the walls of Autobot City. It extended far-beyond the height of most of the buildings, and was doubly fortified to protect against Decepticon attacks. 

His plating was already itching. This would take a while. Transforming his arms into the drill modes, he touched both their tips to a single spot on the wall and set their speed as high as he could.

It was like trying to force a blade through stone. He grit his dentae and pressed harder. It was either break through, or die in here, or become a science experiment for Perceptor. He didn’t fancy the other two options. 

The alarm continued to blare in his head as he increased the speed of his drills, working to try and expand the wound inflicted upon Metroplex. The urge to fully transform and speed this up exponentially made him start to feel twitchy, which made his tentacles coil tighter around their prey. Transforming would make his escape quicker at the likely cost of preventing it entirely—the noise ​of a whole drill tank would surely attract other Autobots. 

Granted, his current method wasn’t exactly the quietest either, but there didn’t seem to be anyone working today, so he didn’t have any unwanted visitors to worry about. If he did, though, he’d just have to knock them out as well. A quick jab through the chassis would do it, followed by a jolt of electricity. He could hide their body in one of the many trash piles. Then he’d just–

Primus, what was he doing!? The thought made him pause. He'd revealed himself as a Sparkeater and taken a hostage! He’d attacked a nurse and doctor and shocked them into submission! The entire city was locked down and Enforcers were prowling looking for him! If he was found he was dead, and yet here he was, loudly drilling the back wall and praying that no one would find him!

He felt sick all of a sudden, his arms falling to his side as a sickness spread through his body. Whatever warnings he received were immediately drowned in more notifications, clouding his head and making him groan. He focused back on drilling. 

The hole was expanding by a few millimeters at a time. Theoretically it could be finished in the day if he kept up this pace. Theoretically he'd be noticed by then and taken to prison. Theoretically he could survive being taken apart and held in pieces forever to study. Theoretically--

A groan sounded behind him. His spark skipped a beat. 

"Uuugh...where...?"

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

His tentacle shot out and jammed its jaws back into Redactor's chassis, intending to shock him again. But when he focused...the shock never came. Luster paused, glancing back at the twisting appendage and trying again. No electricity crackled through it despite his best attempt.

The writhing made Redactor squeak in pain, his frame squirming beneath the intrusion upon it. "Ow! Stop, please! What are—why are you doing this?" He tried to pry his arms free and failed, visor lighting up as he came properly online again. "Who are--"

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

"Sh," Luster shushed, pulling the tentacle out of his chassis and instead moving it to his mouth. How badly he wanted to instead plunge it into his spark chamber. "Quiet." 

Funny, coming from him. Raising his head from his work, he quickly scanned the area. The warning blared in his head again, apparently on a two minute loop. There were no signs of Enforcers—​yet. He didn't know how long he had before they found this area. Probably not much more. 

The same warning which gave him a moment of clarity blared in Redactor's head as well, and the reality of his situation set in as the drowsiness of forced recharge wore off.

"SP-SPARKEATER!" He immediately yelled, wriggling wildly against the tentacles holding him. "HELP! ANYO--"

The tentacle at his mouth shot to throat, pressing its claws right against his voxbox. Luster felt awful as he uttered his threat, but he knew he had no choice.

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

"If you don't be quiet, I'll remove your voxbox. I'm not going to hurt you. Just hold still, and be. Quiet."

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

Redactor whimpered. "What are you going to do with me?"

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

He turned right back to his work, drilling faster, deciding the extra noise was worth the progress. The itching in his plating was growing worse, like scraplets had found their way beneath it and were writhing in their nest. "I'm not going to hurt you," he repeated. "I already told you what I want. We can't stop. I'm...you helped me remember Solace. I need to remember more, and I need to remember now."

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

"But...I...Lu-Luster, you know I-I called off our session because, uh, present conditions aside, you--"

They both heard the roar of an engine nearby, followed by the scraping of tires on pavement. The tentacle gripping Redactor's throat tightened, almost daring him to call out. A tiny whine escaped, but no words along with it. 

Luster ceased his drilling, turning towards the source of the noise. They were at least nine-hundred feet from the front, and tucked behind several piles of garbage. No way they’d been spotted yet. 

Raising a finger to his dermas, he crept away from the wall, dragging Redactor’s stumbling form with him. He bee-lined for a large mound of trash, ducking behind it as he listened for his pursuer. 

The scraping of tires ceased nearby, and the distinctive tschu chuk of a t-cog at work sounded out. Heavy pedes plodded at the entrance, pausing there.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” 

Luster immediately cast Redactor a venomous glare. If the other mech had been planning something, the gaze shut him down. 

“I know someone’s here. Your signal’s showing on my radar. Come out. City’s on lockdown.” 

Of course he was scanning for signals. Why hadn’t he brought something to hide his own? Or received an upgrade for it?

Luster said nothing despite the truth glaring him in the face, his tentacles coiling tighter against his back. Redactor flinched as the grip around him grew painful. 

“If you don’t come out, I’m going to have to arrest you,” the Enforcer threatened. “I can see where you’re hiding. Don’t make this difficult, it’s for your own safety.”

Redactor moved a servo to his tentacle. Luster almost snarled at the touch. 

"Don't," he threatened, then let up ever so slightly. "Redactor, I don't want to hurt you. I need you. I'm going to let you go the moment we're really finished. But until then I need you to cooperate with me. Or..."

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

"Or else." 

He really hated having to threaten Redactor. The doctor had done nothing but attempt to help him. He was the monster here, and his actions certainly weren't helping to clear his name. But what was the alternative? Give it time, and give in to his urges before he remembered what he needed to about Solace? Give it time, and lose himself entirely? Give it time, and become a lab experiment for Perceptor? 

"Ye-yes," Redactor responded, voice barely a whisper. "U-understood."

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

He sounded so pathetic. Pathetic, afraid, and weak. Prime for consumption. There was already a hole in his chassis. It would be easily to burrow in and pull his spark free. Solvent gathered in his mouth at the idea. He could take this Enforcer, if he just had a spark–

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

Which sent a bolt of fear as cold and heavy as the nearby stomping pedes through his entire frame. 

“I’ll give you one last chance.” He heard the sound of servos turning to a blaster. “Come out.”

His tentacle uncoiled from Redactor’s throat, the other three joining it as Luster slowly stood. His plating was itching wildly, notifications screaming endlessly. As he walked towards the edge of the pile he became more aware of the humming in his head, growing in volume with each step.

“Okay,” he said absently, raising his clawed hands as he emerged from behind the pile. “I’ll come out.”

“Good. That’s a good–”

He barely had a moment to widen his optics before Energon burst from his mouth, pooling out along with his brain. Pink spattered over the ground as he fell to his knees, coughing, gagging, and grabbing at his mouth. Before he could even try to secure his own mind it was out, dropping to the floor like a discarded coin. 

Luster stared blankly at the dying mech, now little more than the garbage that surrounded him. Redactor gasped in horror behind him, but he barely heard him. No, his focus was on the glowing ember in the Enforcer’s chest, the waning light that promised him life.

His tentacles shot to the body, immediately turning it over and shredding the plating. He followed them, crouching beside it as Energon spattered against his chassis and face. As the light grew brighter and the spark rose from its chamber, he realized that a silence had settled over his mind: for once, there were no notifications or humming. 

Just an ancient, primal urge, compelling him forward, demanding he 

EAT.

The cracking of his jaw was the only sound in the entire site as he dove forward, clamping down on the divine light of Primus and swallowing it in an instant.

It was like drinking warm Energon after a trek through a planet of ice. It was a rush of electricity after an eternity of powerlessness. It was a new T-cog after an eternity of root mode only. It was life itself rushing into his dying frame, animating him with the power to finally move.

His tentacles crackled to life, their power returned. For just a moment his hunger waned, and he threw his head back and laughed–the feeling was so foreign now, it felt wrong. And how badly he wanted more of it. 

A whimper sounded behind him. His optics widened and his head snapped to its direction. A lavender mech was cowering back, terror filling his eyes. 

He rose to his pedes, tentacles spreading out and pointing towards their target. It shook its head and begged in a language he was starting to forget. 

Please, no. Please, stop. Help me. Anyone. Please. Luster, no.

Who’s Luster?

His tentacles shot for the mech’s plating, burrowing for its spark. A scream of pain escaped it, only to be silenced as claws pinched onto its throat and closed. Energon burst from the wound, spraying over him. 

Luster forced him to the ground, moving his claws to his chest. The silence had broken, and the orders were back.

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

The mech gurgled, grabbing at his claws and kicking its legs. There were two bleeding holes in its chassis. 

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

They had pierced clean through its plating and wiring, down to the spark. 

SEEKALTERNATEFUELSOURCE

The gentle light of life itself, gifted by Primus, was peeking out.

FEEDMEIMSOFUCKINGHUNGRY

He obeyed.

—--

A sparkeater was in Autobot City. He didn't believe it when he'd first heard the message played. Epistaxis had been out cold for hours, but it had only taken a slight shock from the on-site defibrillator to online her, and she'd immediately begun to scream about the monster. A sparkeater had infiltrated the clinic and attacked her.

And it had taken Redactor and Luster. 

His spark had fallen into his tank at that knowledge, and he'd shot into the air the second he’d left the clinic. Before the lockdown alarm had even sounded over the entire city he'd begun his search, trying to ping Luster's frequency, struggling to hear it over the noise and his own pounding fear. 

Luster had been taken by a sparkeater. He'd failed to protect the one 'bot he'd promised he would. 

It was just like the war, but this time, it wasn't 'cons he hadn't kept away. 

Aerial support was appreciated by the Autobots below, but the more he'd circled the city, trying to hone in on Luster's signal amongst the noise of everyone below panicking, the more he'd realized just how disadvantaged he was up here. The many structures Metroplex supported made for excellent cover and there were hundreds of places a sparkeater could lurk. Though the midday sun of Earth banished many shadows to the furthest corners of Metroplex, there were still hundreds of corners and only so many Enforcers. They couldn't check all of them at once, from ground or sky. And with each failed search the sparkeater got further and further away. Who knew where it could be? Who knew what it would kill next? 

No, Luster couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. He would not see another Autobot die while under his protection, no matter what he had to do. 

Winging for the nearest communications tower, he transformed back and landed with a heavy THUD on the rooftop. Immediately he opened his comms and spoke. 

"This is Uptick, reporting from tower 3. Everything looks clear up here. What's the situation on the ground? Over."

He received a few pings from the others below who had nothing to say, providing their locations and what data they'd collected—​which was to say, virtually nothing. ​Momentarily he considered sending them Luster's signal, scrambled as it was in the current panic, then hesitated. Even he couldn't home in on its exact location, what good would it do any of them? 

Well, he knew someone who could, but from so far away? Would it be worth it to bother her now? 

Better yet, why not attempt to contact Luster himself? But what if he was dead? 

He wasn't dead. He couldn't be. Uptick opened his frequency in his HUD and promptly pinged it, sending his location and a request for feedback. 

It was dead silence for all of ten seconds before he received a response. It was no location, no status, no life signal. What came through from Luster's frequency was a low hum, reminding him of the planetary song of Jupiter. 

And then it went silent. 

Frowning, he tried again, and again. The ping reciprocated once more before the connection closed and did not reopen. 

He growled. Well, if it was going to be uncooperative, then he knew someone who could brute force it. Swapping to his other frequency, he promptly called Channel. 

This time, she picked up on the second ring.

"Ticker's, I got news for y--"

"I need you to hijack a signal for me." Whatever she had been talking about could wait. "There's a sparkeater in Autobot City and it's captured Luster. I need you to find him."

There was silence for about two seconds before she spoke. 

'Well, I'll be. Sparkeater's a bit worse 'an this I s'ppose. Aight, gimme the signal." 

He immediately sent her Luster's signature, then grabbed the tower's satellite. 

"Channel into my processor. I can connect you to one of our satellites."

"Channel into you? From this far? Tickers, ya over three thousand miles--"

"Channel. Please." He vented, gritting his dentae. "He could be dead. I need this. Please. I need to find him." 

She sighed in response. "Aight, Tickers. But ya owe me one later, aight?"

"Add it to my tab." 

The sensation of having his processor invaded by her was a familiar discomfort, like cold energon spilling into his tank. For a moment it was unpleasant, and he was acutely aware that an invader had just ridden through their established connection straight into his mind. She was there and he couldn't stop her—​anything he thought and felt in the moment would be  completely open to her. 

And then she had integrated, his processor growing used to it, and she was the same as any other background hum or intrusive thought. Good, that was the first part of the process. The second was channeling her into the satellite, which he promptly did, finding its frequency and connecting his own personal one to it. 

Like a drop of water moving between pools, Channel slipped from his mind into the satellite's projections. It only took a moment before she began to report back. 

Thousands of signals were filtered at once. He saw Autobot City as a skeleton of itself, populated with thousands of dots of light, which one by one winked out as they were eliminated from Channel's search. The city began to shrink as the signal became more and more clear, zipping past buildings and over roads towards the very back. It paused at the clinic for a moment, then raced along the back wall and finally locked in on the back wall at a waste disposal site. 

Three signals blinked, then one went out as the lock-on finished. 

"Found your kid," Channel announced. 

The coordinates logged into his internal map the second she'd sent them. The second she retreated from the satellite he released it, ignoring the sensation of her mind leaving his own. 

"Thanks Channel. I'll update you when I've found him."

"Right, Tickers, but you should--"

He closed their connection and transformed his arms, testing to ensure that his blasters were working. They powered up in two seconds, as if they'd been used yesterday. Then he tested the launchers on his shoulders, which unfolded and loaded their missiles with the same speed. 

Alright, a sparkeater. He could take a sparkeater. It couldn't be worse than the sixth infantry. Just one sparkeater. For Luster. 

He leaped off the building and promptly transformed, almost breaking his wing against the nearest structure. He was too big to be flying so low. He didn't care. 

Luster was in danger, and he wasn't about to--

An SOS ping shot through his head. It came from another Enforcer, one on the ground. And then it cut off. 

Panic shot through him as he searched rapidly for the signal’s origin, finding it in the exact spot he'd already planned on going. 

Oh no. Nonononono--

Three minutes. He had three minutes until he was there. Three minutes flying safely. 

He promptly diverted all fuel to his thrusters and shot forward, turning the world below into a blur. Thirty seconds. He had thirty seconds. 

Each one felt like too long. 

The waste disposal area came up so quickly he almost missed it. He immediately banked up to force a stop, entire body creaking as it fought against air and age to obey his command. He was a decent flier, he'd say, but no Decepticon jet—cargo planes weren't made for such steep turns or jerky movements. He forced them anyways. 

Primus, his back strut would ache in the morning, though. 

With his momentum halted he immediately began to fall. Transforming back, he used his thrusters to manage what could barely be considered a controlled crash onto the nearest roof, hitting his knee hard against it. The damage came through in an immediate report and the pain momentarily caused his processor to flash. He forced them both to be silent and dropped to the ground, hearing a snap along with the landing boom. 

Luster's signal was less than a hundred feet away, hidden amongst the trash. Uptick half limped into the waste disposal site, drawing in a sharp ex-vent at what he saw. 

Lying on his back, a hole punctured through his chest, was the other Enforcer. Already his frame had turned gray, the death pallor broken only by the pink of his Energon. His mouth was open in a scream, optics wide and offlined. Next to him, snapped free of its cord, was the small orb of his brain. 

Uptick closed his eyes and turned his head away, saying a silent prayer to Primus at the sight. He'd been too late. 

And he couldn't stop now. Heading deeper into the site, he quickly spotted drag marks highlighted with Energon. They moved around the trash piles, heading right towards the back. 

So it had taken its prey somewhere private to kill it. He had hope, then. Luster could still be alive, pinned beneath the thing and terrified, but alive. He had to be. 

It was the only thing keeping him going. With each step his leg hurt even more. It reminded him of the war. His plating bristled, arms already transforming into blasters. 

The marks lead around one final pile of trash. He could see a pool of Energon leaking around it. Just beyond he heard the sound of metal snapping. 

Uptick steeled himself, bringing the memory of that day back to light. The sixth infantry was below him, the ground awash in pink. And around, the jets had already formed into their kill formation, one behind, one on the right, and one on the left. There was only one form of escape: 

forward. 

He trained his blasters on the monster before him, crouching over the flickering body of Redactor. The doctor's cheerful lavender paint had been stripped away from struggle. Wiring burst from the joints where his hands had previously connected. His back was arched, legs broken, and chest bared to the creature crouched over him. Writhing tentacles gripped the open hole in his chassis, presenting his spark chamber to the beast as it lowered its head to eat. 

And yet even as it did, Redactor spoke. 

"Help..." He whispered in a final prayer for safety. 

The sparkeater atop him paused, neck cracking as it raised its head and turned to look at him. 

His optics widened in horror. His spark felt ready to go out. And his blasters trembled as the pain in his knee threatened to drop him to the ground. 

"Luster?"

No. It can't be. Anyone but you.