#how to fly (in ten thousand easy lessons)

[kiisuuumii]

Barbara Kingsolver, from "How to Drink Water When There Is Wine," in How to Fly (In Ten Thousand Easy Lessons)

[dk-thrive]

How to Do Absolutely Nothing

Rent a house near the beach, or a cabin but: Do not take your walking shoes. Don’t take any clothes you’d wear anyplace anyone would see you. Don’t take your rechargeables. Take Scrabble if you have to, but not a dictionary and no pencils for keeping score. Don’t take a cookbook or anything to cook. A fishing pole, ok but not the line, hook, sinker, leave it all. Find out what’s left.

—  Barbara Kingsolver, “How to Do Absolutely Nothing” in How to Fly (In Ten Thousand Easy Lessons): Poetry” (Harper (September 22, 2020)

[moonshadowspoetry]

— Barbara Kingsolver, How to Fly (In Ten Thousand Easy Lessons)

[harsh-repose]

"How to be Hopeful" by Barbara Kingsolver, read by James Marsters, taken from her 2020 poetry collection How To Fly (In Ten Thousand Easy Lessons).

[alinaandalion]

Everything that can wreck a life has been done before, done to you, even.  That's all inside you now. Half of it you won't think of. The rest you wouldn't dream of. Go on.

��How to Have a Child” from How to Fly in Ten Thousand Easy Lessons by Barbara Kingsolver

[courtesansjewelbox]

“How to Fly (in Ten Thousand Easy Lessons)” from Barbara Kingsolver’s book of the same name

[mmmonie]

Hi my other post? Got notes? And I already had this basically ready to go so………….? Here it is I guess! Also I’m so sorry for how long this is LOL…..I am incapable of shutting up once I get going so it’s under the read more for you…….(also?? thank you? for the followers uhm cheesed to meet you? 😳 lol)

This is basically what I imagine the manifestation of a demon's powers to be like??? I called it the “juvenile phase” in my other post so thats what im going with lol

Here’s some things I said in my first post that are relevant here, slightly edited. (I elaborate more on the different ways demons are born in that post and I think they’re pretty self explanatory, but u might wanna go read it just in case it’s not clear enough 😔 sorry): (link to first post)

* Demons have multiple forms, not just the two shown in game. All in all the brothers have 5, each becoming less and less humanoid. (Most demons only have 4) 

* Half/human born demons are more likely to have both a tail and wings in their first demonic form. Stronger demons like the brothers are merely showing off the strongest of the two, but everyone has both. (Again bc I think they’re sick as fuck lol) This is why the stereotypical devil in our world has both wings and a tail. 

*a demon's features can be influenced by what sin they are, but it’s not a hard or fast rule.**

***this does not apply to little Ds whose look is entirely dependent on their sin. They are an entirely separate conversation ��� (I elaborate on this briefly at the very end LOL) 

* half/human born demons can have two sins assigned to them, though this makes them less powerful in both. Usually there is a more prominent sin. 

*It should also be noted fallen angels do not have a juvenile phase. While the powers they develop after the Fall are different, they already come prepared, having had intense restraint implemented in their training in the celestial realm. The only things they develop are tails and horns, which happens very quickly during the Fall. They still have the same instincts as demons lol they are just much better at maintaining control. 

*another note: I’m gonna use acronyms for our different types of demons after a while to save me some headache. They’re pretty self explanatory (Ex: half demon = HD) 

With that let’s begin, shall we? 

~~~

*All demons are born with innate magical abilities, the juvenile phase is just the manifestation of their sins and some of their power. Some powers do not come into fruition until much later in a demon's lifespan. (Will elaborate later) 

*They won’t have a complete hold on their powers after this either, it’s just like. The bare minimum of getting a grip so they don’t cause immediate damage LOL they have many years to get into the nuances. Magic to demons is about as easy as breathing, but it still comes with its own challenges. 

*Many of the powers that manifest are shaped by what kind of sin(s) they display. I’m gonna say the sin(s) developed depend on the individual rather than it being hereditary. Though there are powers that are inherent to all demons. (i.e. hypnotizing humans like in lesson 11-14)

*The beginning of the juvenile phase starts when a demon develops their horns, wings, claws and tails. 

*For almost every demon, the juvenile phase lasts about two or three weeks. A human born’s phase will immediately kick in the day after their ceremony. Because of a half demon’s heritage, their transition is delayed and will usually happen around “middle school” age. (However many thousands of years that is lol. Also imagine going through puberty AND growing a bunch of extra shit.........smh.) 

*Natural demons have it slightly easier, they go through this phase very early (around toddler age). They develop the nubs of their horns, wings and tail a while after they’re born. 

*However this is NOT easier for whoever is taking care of them. Demons that develop later are mostly self-sufficient, meaning you can leave them to rest a bit. Can't leave a baby alone for very long though, can you? Especially not when they’re hurtling objects around with their mind, or causing things to spontaneously combust. (Also imagine a regular baby during their teething phase……….now imagine a baby’s teething phase being ten times more itchy AND manifesting new powers. Congratulations on your very cranky and powerful baby, best of luck to you.)

*Parents take this in stride as it’s just how demon babies are. It is all very Addams family esque…. like awwww, our baby just tried to induce horrific hallucinations of our own deaths!!! 🥺🥰🤧 they grow up so fast!!!!

*HB and HD wings and things grow in very quickly. The nubs will sprout from the skin and then mature into wings and horns in just a few days. ND transitions are much more drawn out, taking about a week to complete. All the growth is very itchy for everyone though. 

*You know when you have an itch that just won’t quit or that you can’t reach, so you have to use some outside force to get some relief? Same concept here. Much like deer and their antlers, demons rub their horns and wings up against things to get to those spots they can’t get to themselves. It also has the added effect of encouraging growth and getting excess skin/keratin off them. Family members often help with preening and scratching. 

*There are special concoctions/spells to make the process easier and to help ease the itchiness. As well as products made for specific purposes, like to get at that space where your wings meet your shoulders lol 

*There are also things to pad horns. Having your baby demon impale your shins is no fun. Neither is having your best friend accidentally get stuck in the cabinet because their horns went through the shelf. 

*The first week and a half is usually when a demon is most active. They are encouraged to play fight, stretch their new wings and become familiar with their new instincts. 

•Play fighting is a way to help learn to readjust to their new strength. (and thank god demons are near impossible to kill lol they can get VERY rough.) It’s also considered a bonding activity. 

*Hunting instincts also come into play so it’s not uncommon to see a demon in their juvenile phase playing a really fucked up game of hide and seek with their loved ones (no one gets hurt. Probably <3) 

*These two skills also help with learning how to fly. A game of fucked up hide and seek in the forest is both fun and educational. 

*This is very much like when puppies' paws are too big for they got damn them, except y'know. with horns and claws. So expect some accidental scrapes and

*This is also usually the time where their sin(s) will manifest, along with their new powers. At this point this is where family comes in, as a newly developing demon is reliant on everyone around them to help them learn how to control their strength/powers. Taking care of a demon in their juvenile phase is a family bonding activity, and even those who are prone to being cold are a bit softer during this time. (A reminder that family can be anyone, not just blood related.) 

*The second half of their transition is more about conserving energy for the introduction of their final form.  

*Nesting instincts kick in and are important here, because any nest created will be that demon's home for a period of time. They won’t stray very far from wherever they’ve chosen to stay. Nearly all demons will just choose a comfortable place in their home to nest, however, some demons (i.e. demons like Levi) need a special place because of their final forms. They will be drawn there instinctively.

*A nest is just composed of soft material and sometimes extra objects. For example a greed demon might want shiny or precious objects around their nest. 

*This will also be the home of the loved one(s) taking care of their demon. They will go out and find anything the other one might need or want. A demon will only choose one or two others to take care of them at this time. Other family members are allowed to visit, but the chosen demon(s) stay with their struggling one for nearly the entire last half of this period. 

*It’s considered an honor to be chosen and it is a bragging point, especially if you have been chosen multiple times. 

*Despite what you might think, parental/domestic skills are very important to demons. They live a very long time, and it be a waste to treat their spawn poorly. They’re stuck with them for nearly an eternity, so you might as well try to do your best with them. Being able to showcase being chosen to whomever your courting is, how you say.............a little sexy. So being chosen multiple times? “Wow you’d be a great parent? Tell me more…..😳” 

*Demons will slowly spend more and more time in their nest as they approach the end of their phase. Growing extra things takes a lot of energy! Many demons end up mostly sleeping for the last couple days in preparation for the end. 

*Since they are so sleepy, this is the most outwardly cuddly most demons will be. Close family members are encouraged to come stay in the same space for a while. The demon will often be asleep, but waking up and playing games with them is a great way to bond. If you’re REALLY special you might end up being allowed to sleep in their nest for a bit. 

*The juvenile phase culminates when the demon reaches their final form (usually the fourth one.) Over this last half, they slowly grow more monstrous features. Scales, fur, claws, eyes, teeth, spines.........the whole lot! Anything and everything you can imagine. Each demon's final form is unique, though they do not get a decision as to what features they have. Final forms tend to be very large. 

*This is where they are taught how to use their glamor and how to piece themselves back into a form that’s easier to maneuver. Think of it like starting from the top and working your way down. 

*There are demons whose job it is to go mark down the details of every single final form. Things like what powers manifested, to how tall they are, their overall physical strength and what sin(s) they portray, etc. They are all recorded in the royal archives. It’s a bit like a right of passage, especially for younger demons and their parents. 

*Going back to the very top, some powers won’t manifest until after the juvenile phase. Some won’t even manifest until the demon has hit sexual maturity (which takes a MUCH longer time for demons.) This is true of almost every power that Lust develops except for perhaps an increase in their charisma/ability to charm. Demons who are assigned Lust are considered the late bloomers of the demonic world, as almost all other sins manifest more power right away. 

*Also relating to the top of this post: the reason Little Ds looks are biased on what sin they are is because they are pure concentrated forms of sin given life. They’re extracted from the souls of humans who committed sin, and used for grunt work/errand running. They develop their own personalities as they go, but it takes a bit so they’re kind of a blank slate until then.

~~~

I was gonna be like oh treat for you here’s how the brothers dealt with Satan and his juvenile phase but this is long as FUCK already so I will make…...a separate post. Edit: SURPRISE! treat for u! heres the link if u want

Thanks for reading! Until next time ig? 

[starpointestudio]

A peek at progress on the @barbara.kingsolver #woodengraving These warblers are so fun to engrave! Illustration for “Love Poem, With Birds” from Kingsolver’s recent book “How To Fly (In Ten Thousand Easy Lessons)” HarperCollins, 2020. Printed by October Press, Fall 2020. . . . . #illustration #bookart #print #printmaking #neotropicslwarblers #sycamore #birds #art #wood #engraving https://www.instagram.com/p/CHD1LzIgLXk/?igshid=1gv6gcfra5ael

[kiisuuumii]

Barbara Kingsolver, from "After," in How to Fly (In Ten Thousand Easy Lessons)

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello Ciule and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for sitting down with us for a chat.

SS/HG readers might be familiar with your stories “Awkward” and “Headmaster’s Wife”. 

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name? Well, I sort of took one of my real names, swirled the letters around in the air with my imaginary wand, and I ended up with this. Can’t begin to imagine where I got the idea from... ;-) Later on, I realized that Ciule is actually a name in Romania. I had no idea, but there are people out there carrying this name for real. I guess I’m #sorrynotsorry?   Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most? To be quite frank: No one, really. This is more about the characters I like, than truly identifying with them. I can relate to parts of some of them, but not the whole package. Primarily, I write about Hermione, Voldemort and Severus, and the one common thread between those three is the search for knowledge. That’s a trait I can identify with, but I’m neither an evil bastard, a grumpy protector nor a fretting, intelligent activist. I am, however, a swot. If you had asked who I’d want to be, the answer is clear. I want to be Albus Dumbledore. Though I can’t agree with the things he did, I feel absolutely certain that he’s the one who has the most fun during the books. I want to have that twinkling fun in face of absolute chaos.   Do you have a favourite genre to read (not in fic, just in general)? Fantasy! Definitely fantasy. While growing up, I read ‘everything’ in every genre, and in my twenties, I decided I’d spend my time reading what I loved the most. So, fantasy it is. Do you have a favourite "classic" novel? You landed me in an existential crisis right there. I mean, there’s so many to choose from! ‘Wuthering Heights’, I think. It hurts so good. Or maybe ‘Rebecca’, at least, I loved that when I was younger. Or the fairly obscure ‘Lorna Doone.’ When I was a kid, I wanted to be a film director, shooting Lorna Doone into an epic film. Oh well, there might be a theme in this selection of books which reflects in my writing… At what age did you start writing? The creative process has gone on since forever. I’ve told myself thousands of stories in my head, but rarely written anything down. At the age of ten, I had a co-writing project with one of my friends. We created this secret room in her basement, and painstakingly wrote a ‘novel’. It was fun, though the writing ended as it became too cold down in the basement during winter. How did you get into writing fanfiction? In 2009, I became completely obsessed with a TV-show in the last episode. I was watching the entire series, casually enjoying the murder mystery, and in the last episode, the villain said: “I can do the math,” and I was literally gone. That obsession sparked writing my first fanfic stories. Those stories are still on FFnet, but they aren’t any good. *shrugs* What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? Compromise. The world isn’t a perfect place, and will never be. You can, however, make it more to your liking. It may not be perfect, but if you play the cards you are dealt, you might improve something. In Robert Jordan’s “the Wheel of Time”-series, one of the characters goes through a test in a parallel universe of sorts, and she thinks: “The world was not what she wanted, not anywhere near it.” I loved that: trying your best to make things as you want them to be in the face of dangers and difficulties.   And then there’s time travel! I love messing with time, and there are so many great Time-travelling fics. Plus, I have to say I have a certain love for the villains...   What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? Currently, I’m not writing for any other fandoms. I read Star Wars, GoT, POTO and LOTR, and in the past I read Smallville. Though it’s more of a type of ship for me, because I only read Reylo, SanSan, Erik/ Christine, Lex/Lana and ….drum roll… the extremely small and quite oddball ship of Eowyn/ Grìma Wormtongue. If you’ve never tried the last one, go search for the fantastic stories by auri_mynonys. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? One change: duh, that’s easy, isn’t it? Severus lives. Or, maybe Dumbledore acting more rational, not keeping so many secrets. Maybe telling McGonagall that Severus is on the Order’s side… (Interviewer is laughing - ”NOT so easy”) I do write Voldemort wins AUs, but I wouldn’t want canon Voldemort to win. I prefer him to be more sane than in canon. My absolute favourite piece of fanon has to be the Black library. I thought it was canon, but it’s not. This is a thing that really, really should exist in canon! Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? I’m very much inspired by music, and sometimes I listen as I write, but not always. Some fics are heavily inspired by music, such as ‘Absence’ and the last epilogue to ‘The Manipulation of Time and Matter’. What are your favourite fanfictions of all time? Definitely ‘Two Steps from Hell,’ by the amazing Ssserpensssotia, but that’s a Volmione. This was such a wild ride, I felt like I was on the edge of my seat, holding my breath the entire time. Those twists and turns were so unpredictable and … Well, I’m in awe. The SS/HG fandom is so massive, there’s a plethora of great stories out there. The unfinished ‘Self-Slain Gods on Strange Altars’ is a wonderful story by scumblackentropy, and I love Slytherpoufs stories, especially the wip ‘Ghosts’, but also ‘Angels to Fly’. And then there’s the one that got away - it means, I can’t find it. In this story, Severus watches the thestrals, befriending one of them, I think, but they’re unpredictable and maybe even dangerous. He’s heartbroken, and knows how it all will go down, having bitterly accepted his role. It made me cry. And then there’s the works by Aurette, and lena1987, Subversa, Kittenshift… Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process? I need (strike that: want) to draft the entire story before I post, to have some idea on how it goes. That makes it easier to write, but if it’s a long story, I’m happy as long as I know the general direction. This year, I finished a story that was on an unintended hiatus for two years, and I think part of my problem on getting back into writing it up was a too vague idea for the ending.   What is your writing genre of choice? Uh. I don’t know? Basically, you could argue that I’m a porn writer, or at least it’s fuelled by sexual tension and angst. So, romance or drama, bordering on erotica might be correct. To be frank, I haven’t really thought about categories after I started posting on AO3. Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why? Hard to say. I might go with “the Manipulation of Time and Matter,” because I think it’s the best plot I’ve created. Besides, I managed to write Hermione having a relationship with both Severus and Voldemort in the same fic. My favourite “clean” SSHG would be the short story ‘Grimmauld’. Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it? In Grimmauld, the house became a character. That was unexpected, and not something I had planned from the beginning. So the lesson would be “don’t start posting until you know what’s going to happen.” Or else, this story might have turned out very much different. I had to throw in a little made-up lore on how you set blood wards on a house too to make it sentient. That proved to be a quite chilling piece of magic.   How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write? I love old houses. Exploring abandoned houses, going inside to see what remains of furniture, tapestries and everything is so exciting. (It can also be dangerous, but that’s another matter). Such houses makes me feel .. nostalgic, plus I get those nice little shivers down your spine that is a little like a horror story. So, I wanted to use Grimmauld as a setting to explore that in a fic, to really dig into the aching loneliness of a lost house. The story came very quickly to me, so I guess that helped me.   What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing? Big question there. Hmm, I think … it’s hard to say. I’m a reader, really, and I couldn’t easily pick apart any influences. Though I have to say that one of the things I enjoyed when reading ‘Two Steps From Hell’ was the attention to magic. I think it’s important to include spells, rituals and the use of magic in my fics, because that’s what sets it apart from a Muggle AU, for example. That’s an important part of the world-building.   Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction? My significant other knows. I didn’t tell him, but he found out for himself, probably by spying on me. When he told me, I almost couldn’t stop laughing, because he… erm, he said he had thought about reenacting a scene in my PWP ‘Twenty Points to Gryffindor’, where Severus shouts the title as he… well… you get the gist. If he had done that, I’d have had a heart attack. I would literally be dead. Instead, I laughed non stop for an hour.   How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"? Haha, so true. You spend all those hours in front of your laptop - and if I wasn't motivated by doing it for myself, I can’t even see how I’d force myself through all those hours. It’s fun, though. I do this because I love it.   How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media? Very important. I'm on the publishing sites (visible interaction is why I prefer AO3 instead of FFnet) and on Facebook, mainly. I love feedback (as all authors do), and when people form theories or make comments, I get an insight into my own writing. I know how it’s going to pan out, but the audience doesn’t, and how they perceive things might be different from how I think it is. At times, it influences how I go forward, mostly because I need to add things, to explain what’s going on. What is the best advice you've received about writing? Don’t post until you know the ending, and remember: the devil on your left shoulder will be at war with the angel on the right side. Listen to the angel telling you to wait a little longer, and not to the devil chanting: ‘Post, post, post!’ In the end, of course, you’ll give in to the devil, regretting it until you’re done. What do you do when you hit writer's block? Read. Read a lot. And read some more. Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing? Certainly. I’m a foodie. For example, everything that Voldemort eats is stuff I love. His food habits are primarily mine, and I love cooking.   Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser? It’s a short piece, maybe three or four chapters, with the title ‘Transference’. The point of departure from canon is during their time in the tent at DH. Hermione wakes up in a bed, in a room she doesn’t recognize, having no idea where she is, but she spots a large, moving picture on the drawer:  Feeling panic rising, she stared hard at the moving and smiling pictures, and her heart leapt into her throat, pulse hammering as she recognized herself in the largest picture. A slightly older Hermione, in a white wedding dress, kissing and laughing at someone who simply had to be a much younger Severus Snape. It had to be him: Long black hair, hooked nose, sallow skin - but then he looked so young, carefree and happy - expressions she had never seen on her dour Professor's face. Beside the picture, there were numerous cards, greetings and well-wishings for their wedding - the date an impossible 21 August 1982, and amongst the cards, the largest one stood out, the black ink showing an elegant handwriting: “Dear Hermione and Severus! Best wishes for your wedding, Lord Voldemort.” Any words of encouragement to other writers? Read and write, in that order. Don’t worry about trolls, because when you contribute something that you created, it makes you so much more than people spending their time just raining on anyone’s parade. You brought something new to the world, they’re just reacting to things. If someone accuses you of a self-insert, go ahead and lecture them on the intentional fallacy. I promise, you won’t regret looking it up. ;-)   And please, mind the normal physical limits when you’re writing smut. Unless you give the male a stamina potion or put him under the Imperius, it’s unlikely that his refractory period allows him to come five times in one hour. Realistic smut is so much more sexy, lol. Thanks again for speaking with us Ciule.

[moonshadowspoetry]

— Barbara Kingsolver, How to Fly (In Ten Thousand Easy Lessons)

[artxyra]

In Her Darkest Moments

Note: So this story came from me listening to the song “The Bully” by Sody. If the last part seems kind of lost it because I started this on a whim and took a break to work on other projects (both school-related and personal). There might be more added to this later but I’m not sure yet. Anyways, enjoy.  

Part 1 | 2 | 3

Trigger warning: thoughts of suicide

Anger can manifest in multiple ways, but it’s what you do with that anger that can change the outcome of a single event.

~*~

Marinette may have grown used to the Lila and her classmates’ bullying towards her, but that didn’t mean she was slowly shattering. Every day was a war zone for her. Looking behind her back every second of the day, hoping that she wouldn’t stand out. But this has been going on for two years nearly three now. She can’t take it anymore.

Suicide was the easy way out, and she knows this. It was confronting her bullies and saying goodbye that was the hardest.

Gripping onto her sleeves, she covers the marks of cutting, forcing herself to acknowledge she was okay when she clearly wasn’t. No one knew she was doing this to herself, and she wants to keep it that way. No longer did she wore pink capris with a white blouse and blazer, but now a grey knitted sweater with a pair of skinny jeans and low-heeled wedges. It was a nice change, but she didn’t feel like herself in her own skin.

Walking into her high school, Dupont’s sister school, she ignores the glances coming her way. Making her way to her locker, she quickly grabs the items needed for class and scurries down the halls. Because of the lack of akuma attacks, she’s often on-time to class and gets a decent night of rest when nightmares aren’t plaguing her mind.

Her books fell from her arms. She staggers in her steps.

“Oh my god, Marinette! Why did you purposely drop your books on me?” She dreads the familiar Italian accent female. Lila could only internally smirk at her work because it wasn’t long before Alya made her voice known.

“What the hell, Marinette, that’s the fifth time this week. What is wrong with you?”

A hard jab came to her shoulders. Marinette counts to ten. Her breathing evens just enough for her to gain her bearings. She grabs her books and pushes through the growing crowd of Lila supporters. No one is never on her side anymore.

Taking her seat, she barely acknowledges the disappointed look she was receiving from Adrien. Adrien, oh sweet Adrien, the blonde model manages to convince his father to let him continue with public school under the intention of doing more photo-shoots. They barely have spoken since collége and he unknowingly played into Lila’s greedy hands.

“Good Morning class,” The teacher greets as she walks in. Marinette doesn’t acknowledge today’s lesson as her mind started to doodle in her worn-out notebook.

Lila made sure that everything good in Marinette’s life was a diminished flame. Turning the former bluenette’s parents against her was the tipping point of it all.  She would copy Marinette’s work, turn it in before the latter could get up from her seat. That would then turn into a long meeting with the school’s dean about plagiarism and dishonesty. It was a miracle that Marinette was still able to attend the school with the constant amount of this occurring.

Marinette’s safe place slowly became this Ladybug and Chat Noir theme café. She goes by there every day after school instead of heading home. It’s a great place for her to work on her projects without the fear of being judged, bullied and copied from. The owner, an older woman, grew to love the teen’s company and told her that she was welcome at any time of the day. She’ll forever remember the day that Marinette gave her the most heartfelt real smile instead of the dull, barely reaching her eyes smile. Those were the days that the two of them will cherish forever.

She sighs, pushing the unfinished work of a new design away from her. The owner notices this and looks around. There was no need to take orders; she quickly makes her over to the struggling teen.

“Is everything alright dear?” She asks, placing a comforting hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

A gentle gesture was all it took for her to breakdown. Tears stream down her face, red watery eyes glance up to the older woman breaking the owner’s heart. She hates seeing Marinette like this. Pulling the young woman into a comforting hug, Marinette cries into her chest.

“Shh, everything will be alright one day.” The owner repeats into the teen’s ear, rubbing on her back.

When Marinette couldn’t cry her eyes out anymore, she lifts herself up from the older woman’s lap to look around. The sky has darkened and there was no one in the café beside the two of them.

“I’m so sorry.” She immediately apologizes.

“Nonsense, Marinette. You clearly needed to let it all out.”

Marinette couldn’t help but look down in shame. She doesn’t deserve any of this comfort. To her, a mental breakdown went weakness and weakness is something that has been affecting her in all aspects of her life.

“I should get home.” Marinette murmurs holding herself.

As much as the owner didn’t want the teen to leave, she knew she couldn’t stop Marinette from leaving. Sighing, she hands Marinette her bags and wishes her goodbye.

Dread fills Marinette as she returns home, but something stops her from entering. Perhaps it was because of her parents and their lack of trust for her. Maybe it was the cool protective breeze of the night’s air. Biting her bottom lip, she pushes against the door and quickly makes a be-line to her bedroom.

Her room lacks its usual luster. Over the years, she slowly became dissociated from her room leaving it frozen in her middle school personality with only pops of colors representing her now.

Not wanting to go to sleep, she finds herself on the balcony watching the stars.

“You could have asked me if you wanted to stargaze tonight.”  Her frown deepens hearing one of many voices she doesn’t want to hear.

“Go away, Chat.” She demands; caring less that it will hurt his feelings, but she knows him well enough that the word “no” isn’t in his vocabulary.

“Meow-ch, Princess—” He begins but Marinette turns to him with a glare on her face.

“Don’t call me, princess. I hate it.” She states getting up from her position. Chat Noir touches her shoulder only for her to push him away.

“No, you don’t.” He tries to counter, giving her his cat-like smirk, “Your heart wouldn’t have fluttered if you didn’t.”

Marinette scrunches her face. A single tear slides down her cheek. Chat, being the heroic knight he is, pulls her in for a hug, she tries to break free but due to her fatigue, she couldn’t. Instead, she wiggles in his arms.

“Let go of me.” She demands.

“You’re kidding me?” Chat slightly pushes her away, only to take in Marinette. Her body’s shaking, her arms hugs her torso, and tears ran down her face.

“Goodbye, Chat Noir.” Marinette rush towards the trapdoor and enters it.

She wants it all to end. To be fear from the nightmare that is her life. Collapsing onto the floor, the waterworks began. Tikki finally making her presences known and cuddles next her chosen knowing it was only time before Marinette gives up.

Marinette barely found the energy to wake up the next morning.

“Marinette, breakfast is ready!” She heard her mother’s voice carry out from the lower floor.

Trudging down from her bedroom and into the kitchen, Marinette sits down and stares silently at the plate of food in front of her. This felt odd. It’s been months since her mother made breakfast for the family. Her excuse has been that the store needs more attention and earlier opening time. When was the last she saw her mother’s bright smile and not the disappointed look? Marinette couldn’t remember for the life of her.

“Um…merci, maman.” Marinette murmurs taking a small bite.

Sabine either ignored the appreciation or she didn’t hear it, causing Marinette to feel even more out of place. It was after her tenth bite, that Marinette gave up on breakfast and walk out of the room. Looking at her phone, she realizes that class was going to start soon. Opting to ditch today, Marinette changes into a simple tee and a pair of denim shorts. Maybe today will be a better a day than the rest.

~*~

Marinette was enjoying her day away from school, but that all ends when a notification came through on her phone. It was the contents in that notification that made her want to hide, to throw up, and never show her face again. How could someone be so cruel to photoshop a photo of her doing explicit poses and send it to everyone in her class? How did they even get her new phone number?

The comments surrounding the post was a mixture of good and bad. Some, those who know her, wrote that it was clearly photoshopped, critiquing the image while others were expressing their shock and disappointment in Marinette for taking such photos.  

Everything’s ruined. Her reputation (that was already on the rocks), her dreams, her life.

Locking herself in the nearest bathroom, that she could find, she collapses to the floor. Breathing became a challenge, her mind making thousands of scenarios, causing her to spin around confused and dazed. Reality began to shift into nothing. Grasping for air, she uses the sink to balance her, but no strength came to her aid.

“Marinette!” Tikki worries for chosen. She felt useless. Useless that to help her chosen, she must reveal the three-year secret that they’ve kept hidden. “I will get help. Please stay strong.” Tikki cries out, flying out the bathroom in search for help.

Marinette didn’t know how long she stayed in a fetal position on the floor. Minutes, maybe even hours there. Because the next thing she knew was the loud banging on the bathroom door. Someone’s calling out her name from the other side. The loud sound made her want to curl, even more, anything to get away from the torture that’s she experiencing.

“Marinette,” The voice calls out more clearly.

Arms surround her fragile body. They pull her in closer to their chest. She clings to the person’s shirt as it was the only tangible object that was grounding her to reality.

“I got you. You’re safe, Nette. Come back to me.” The voice whispers into her ear.

Her breathing evens.

The voice continues to repeat the same phrase as it was bringing her back to reality and calming her down. Her grip lessens on their shirt.

“That’s it, Nette. Come back to me.” He murmurs.

“Is she alright?” Another voice asks. It was feminine, something that allowed Marinette to feel safe and loved. Another pair of hands wrap around her body.

Darkness begins to fade away allowing the bright colors of images to flood her senses. Blinking, Marinette looks around and sees Kagami and Luka holding onto her. Her eyes make their way to the door where Felix stood with concern in eyes stoic eyes.

“W-w-what happened? H-h-how did I get here?” She stutters clenching onto Luka’s shirt even more.

“You’re okay, now, Nette. If it wasn’t for Tikki, we probably wouldn’t have known to be here.” Kagami says rubbing the small teen’s blue hair. Marinette welcomes it and cuddles closer to the woman.

“It was Rossi that caused this mess. I’m sure we can charge Rossi with slander and defamation.” Felix voices his opinion.

“Let’s ignore, Rossi, for a moment and focus on Nette. From what Tikki told me, this kind of behavior is becoming a regular occurrence. Which would explain why she doesn’t come to school from what Agreste been explaining.” Kagami declares with a heavy sigh.

“Should we call Bourgeois and ask for her input?” Felix suggests as his body dance subconsciously with the idea of going into the bathroom.

“No, not yet. Right now, we need to focus on bettering Nette.” Luka speaks with authority.

Felix and Kagami agrees and turns back to their now sleeping friend.

~*~

A week has passed since Marinette’s breakdown. Kagami refuses to let the bluenette be alone, so she offered her place. Marinette at first refused, but after a long talk with Felix, Kagami, Luka, and their kwamis, it was decided that she would stay.

As the days went by, the three friends to could a change in their beloved bluenette. She’s eating more and getting a good amount of sleep. Granted, there were akuma attacks during some of those days and if it wasn’t an akuma, it was Lila’s lying her way out of any situation.

Heal is always the hard part; as much as Marinette wanted to move on from this, she knows that it will only stop when Lila’s luck runs out.

Sitting down at the Ladybug and Chat Noir theme café, Marinette silently sips her coffee. The owner makes her way over to the teen and offers her another round. Marinette declines and apologizes for all the pain and concern she caused the older woman. To which the owner denies and told her that she reminds her of her own granddaughter that was bullied when her daughter and husband were living in Italy.

“I’m so sorry, what happened to your granddaughter?” Marinette asks, secreting cringing at such a question.

The owner answers with a sad sigh, “She nearly killed herself, if it wasn’t for the pets, she wouldn’t be here. Today, she’s following her dream by attending a private school across sees. You two would have gotten along very well if she was here.”

Marinette smiles, “I’m glad that she’s alright.” She replies, but the lingering thought of death managed to sneak up into her mind.  Perhaps, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my friends. Shaking her head, she focuses on her coffee.

“If you need to talk, I’m always here.” The owner quickly gestures to the café before returning to the counter to take the orders of new customers.

Marinette finishes her coffee and exits the café.

“So, this is where you sneak off to.” Felix notes with Luka and Kagami behind him.

“What are you guys doing here?” Marinette asks, hugging the blonde before the two dark hairs.

“Well classes got out early and we wanted to spend the rest of the day with you,” Kagami answers pushing a strand of hair behind Marinette’s ear.

Marinette rolls her eyes, “Well the day is still bright and I’m feeling rather famished.”

The small group of friends laughs at the grumbling sound of Marinette’s stomach.

All it takes is for one grand action to make someone feel loved in their darkest moments.  

Part 2

[jackidy]

If You Let Me: Chapter 1

Rating: T Pairings: Demyx/Zexion, Demyx/Ienzo (Eventual/Slowburn) Characters: Various, Zexion/Ienzo Centric Setting: BBS to KH3, Canon compliant mostly 

Warnings: Canon Character Death (Temporary)

Summary:  “It’s almost a shame really, that you probably won’t survive this.” Only he did. Spending the prelude to adulthood as a nobody, a supposed empty husk of a being was never an option any of them considered, least of all a newly named Zexion who would be living every last one of them.

Note: I’ve been wanting to write this since KH3 came out, finally got round to planning everything after a recent stint in hospital haha. I’ve not written Multi Chapter in a while so lets hope I can keep going with it. 

Chapter One | Next Chapter

---

Year 0

He’s half asleep when the shouting begins, Even shaking him awake with a panicked look on his face and Ienzo doesn’t understand it, not fully, blinking slowly as he attempted to register what was going on. Panic. Shouting. Even holding his arms, a little too tightly with a frantic look in his eyes that does nothing but scare Ienzo. Why was he so scared?

“I need you to hide for me, hide for me and don’t make a sound. Can you do that, Ienzo?” Ienzo doesn’t get chance to respond, Dilan shouting something outside catching Even’s attention, something hissed under his bis breath that’s drowned out by the noise outside before he turns back to Ienzo. His expression softens, hands brushing hair from blue eyes as a kiss is placed against his forehead. “Go on now, go hide.”

The child does as he’s told, ducking under Even’s desk, curling up in the corner. Hands slide over ears as there’s a scream, something thudding against the door. Was Dilan hurt? Shouldn’t they help? He doesn’t understand, why are they hiding when they could help? Even could heal Dilan and then they could find everyone else and leave before whatever attacked Dilan attacked them all too.

He doesn’t want to lose his family. Not again.

The office door doesn’t slam open so much as creak, eerily quiet and somehow more terrifying than if it had slammed, Ienzo clamping his lips together to stop himself from letting out a shuddering breath. Even had told him to be quiet so he would be quiet, he’d looks so serious, so afraid. What was scary enough to make Even scared and Dilan shout?

Where were Aeleus and Braig?

“Where is Ienzo?”

“Not in here, what do you want?”

Static seems to build in his head, setting his brain alight as his heart rate spiked. He knows that voice, the new member of the family who didn’t speak to him much unless he wanted something. The one who told him to ask Ansem for the lab where the bad things always happened.

“Research.”

The pressure on his ears grows as he hears them fight, clamping his eyes closed and counting to ten and then back again in his head, the static almost painful when he feels it. The desk pushes against him as a thud echoes above him, eyes flying open to look above him then to the side as a hand comes into view. Pale, weathered, almost as familiar as his own.

Why wasn’t Even moving?

Hands clamp over his mouth as a whimper leaves his lips, pacing footsteps stopping before coming closer, slowly as if the owner didn’t know he was here and he didn’t, right? He’d behaved, he’d been quiet. Even wasn’t going to be mad with him when he woke up, he stayed quiet like he was supposed to. He’d behaved. He’d been good.

The creak of wood beside him makes him jolt, eyes flicking from the hand to the side of him. The static stops. Everything stops bar the impulse to run, wanting to desperately to move but paralysed as blue meets orange, a tanned face flickering between a lack of surprise to something almost feral and beast like. Lips curve up into a smile, in no way friendly, the need to run growing larger and more desperate as Xehanort leaned forward.

“Found you.”

Ienzo bolts, not making it far before he’s grabbed, a scream ripping from his throat as he’s dragged, over Even’s crumpled form, the grip ever tightening the more he tried to pull away and he knows. He knows he’s not felt fear like this since he lost his parents and now, he was losing them all over again, desperately reaching for Even before being thrown to the floor.

“I really should thank you, if you hadn’t convinced that old fool, we’d never have reached such marvels.”

It was his fault? He’d caused all this? Ienzo looks from Even to Xehanort, another whimper escaping his lips as the tears welled up. It was his fault Even and, most certainly Dilan, were hurt. Were Aeleus and Braig hurt too? What about those two strange boys who kept wandering in and bribing his silence with ice cream? How many people were going to be hurt because he convinced Ansem to build a new lab?

“It’s almost a shame really, that you probably won’t survive this.”

He only sees the glint of light on the keyblade before he succumbs to the darkness.

---

Year 1.

“You need to focus!”

He hates the lessons, Zexion swallowing back a retort as Vexen’s voice cut through his concentration once more, the image of what he was trying to manifest crumbling into nothing, leaving nothing but the dark space of the lab once more. As Even he’d been warmer in voice and spirit, he’d lectured him enough when he’d misbehaved but his voice was never as cold as ice when he did it, never cutting in the way it lacked encouragement.

“I’m trying.” Zexion responded, training the anger out of his voice least he be admonished for expressing emotions as well. We don’t have hearts, we’re not supposed to feel, he’s been told this time and time again yet each one of his mentors has exhibited something close to the human range of emotion. Was it one rule for them and another for him?

Letting out a deep breath he tries again, taking his time as he tries to picture what Vexen wants. A Shadow Heartless. This should be easy, there were thousands of them outside in the city below, Zexion furrowing his brows as he focused on the image, managing to drown out Vexen’s ever helpful criticisms.

It’s then he feels the shift, staring in confusion at the blank space before him before looking up to Vexen who was quiet but not mad. Why wasn’t he mad? He hadn’t don’t as the other had asked, there was no Shadow Heartless, just the blank white floor of an overly white castle.

“Not what I expected but impressive all the same.” Vexen mutters, scribbling something down on the clipboard he held, Ignoring Zexion in favour of recording whatever feat Zexion had apparently performed. Looking down at his hands, Zexion falters, expecting gloves hands but instead finding small black claws.

He hadn’t made the heartless, he’d become it.  

---

The library is the safest space to hide, Zexion has found, heavy book in hand and a secluded corner to hide from the other seven but someone will find him eventually, they always do and, as always, he can only hope its Lexaeus as opposed to Xigbar or Axel, the latter of which continues to look at him like everything was his fault.

Maybe it was, Xehanort had stated as much before he became this husk and now, now someone who wasn’t there joins in the conviction.

The guilt gnaws at him, book abandoned on the floor beside him as he tries to remember the smell of the gardens in spring, when Kairi’s grandmother would bring her to visit whilst she talked with master Ansem. The ever-present rain around the Castle the Never Was fades away, replaced by a gentle breeze and a shadow of the feeling of sunlight on his skin.

Was Kairi okay? He can barely remember her voice now but he remembers the red hair, how she’d pull him round the gardens, telling him about the different flowers how one day they’d go on an adventure today. How she’d make sure to keep him safe from monsters. He’s not sure how she could do that now, since he had become the monster.

“Do you think we could still be friends?” He mumbles to his silent illusion, watching her run amongst the flower beds, picking one or two and always bringing them back to him as their guardian and protector until she’d finished collecting one flower seemingly of every colour and every type. “I think she’ll love them; she always does.” He replies to her mouthed question of if he thinks her Grandma will like her make shift bouquet.

He’s not sure how long he lingers in this illusion of his own memories, all most lost in the sea of flowers and warmth when he smells it. The scene shatters into nothing as fire and ash fill his senses, swallowing thickly and curling up as the smell got ever closer. It hadn’t worked before when he was under a desk, why would it work now?

He’ll be shouted at. He doesn’t want to be shouted at. Tears already pricking at his eyes when the smell of a forest fire becomes too much, he has to become smaller, has to disappear. He needs to hide. He needs to hide. HE NEEDS TO HIDE. His body screams at him to move as the footsteps finally round the bookcase, a click of a tongue and the sound of a hand hitting another body.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the li- Oh shit, are you crying?”

Two bodies press against him, fire on one side and something almost beastly on the other, Saix had joined Axel then, Ienzo finding some comfort in the sudden warmth and pressure but it was still not enough to fully dampen the sudden spike of anxiety. The silence isn’t as tense as he first believed, Zexion slowly calming down to the point he could look at the pair who had joined him only to find Saix glaring at Axel who at least looked sheepish.

“I feel-“ A clearing of the throat interrupts, Axel glaring at Saix before sighing. “I have misplaced anger towards you, I’m sorry for snapping at you. You’re a kid, I don’t see how you could be involved.”

He wasn’t expecting an apology, Zexion looking between the pair again, knowing he was missing something important in the discussion but perhaps not something to ask about. The last time he’d tried to help it had inevitably ended with an abyss for a chest and a spreading darkness. Perhaps this time, this time he doesn’t ask, he doesn’t intervene with his help only to ruin the result later on.

It would be better that way.

---

Safety also came with Lexaeus, Zexion decided, sitting on the stool by the counter as the other prepared food, Zexion easily loosing himself in the smell of the raw ingredients, legs swinging idly as he sat simply watching. Lexaeus doesn’t expect too much from him, doesn’t look at him as if it’s his fault, he treats him almost the same as he did when they were both human.

It’s nice, comforting.

“How have lessons been going?” His deep voice is soothing, Zexion hesitating vocally but his face spills all, a look of distaste and annoyance twisting his features, causing a chuckle from the taller man. “That good, hmm?” He’s teasing, Zexion knows this, but still feels somewhat told off, blowing his hair from his eyes and crossing his arms. It’s childish, he knows but, memory serves, he was only nine regardless of his ability to feel emotions or not.

“I’ve discovered more things on my own, he wants me to do things I don’t really want to.” He receives a hum in response, both in agreement and encouragement to go on, as if genuinely interested in what Zexion had to say about his lessons with Vexen. But would he share these thoughts or keep them to himself? Was it worth the risk?

Apparently so, words spilling from Zexion’s mouth before he could really stop himself. “They’re boring, if not that he tells me to concentrate and then speaks halfway through and ruins my concentration.”

“He says that you mimicked a heartless.”

“Yes, once.” It’s all Vexen wanted him to concentrate on now, it seemed, the blonde growing more frustrated with him when he couldn’t, a blessing in and of itself as it usually meant Zexion would be left alone for a little while until Vexen came back and the rigorous routine of failing to become a replica would start all over again. He should probably practise more without his mentor present, Zexion thinks, knowing things came a bit more naturally when he didn’t feel under observation.

The conversation ends there, the comfortable silence settling back over them again. Zexion has always found it a wonder that someone with such large, strong hands could be so gentle with food, wrinkling his nose at the sting of onions in his sinuses but staying silent otherwise. Maybe he should learn, free up time for Lexaeus whilst also add a task to his schedule that extended beyond lessons with Vexen and the frequent trips to the library.

“I can show you what else I’ve learnt.”

Lexaeus stops working then, turning to the child Nobody with an almost confused yet utterly curious look, raising an eyebrow at the young boy who feels almost giddy for once. He hadn’t shown anyone else this, not even Axel and Saix when they would now occasionally join him to, in Axel’s own words, make sure he grew up with a sense of humour.

He gets no prompt to continue but Zexion does anyway, taking a deep breath before twisting the landscape of the kitchen into something more friendly and familiar. The white floor fades away to stone, the walls swallowed by the landscape of Radiant garden, an autumnal breeze in the air as the sun offered little to no warmth from its rays.

The flower beds have mostly withered away, the sea of colour now replaced with muted browns and greens, the brilliant oranges and yellows of fallen leaves offering the only real splashes of colour in the imagined gardens. What smells, what smells, Zexion racking his mind for anything before landing on spices. Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves and pepper, warm and hearty, comforting and familiar. The kitchen is no longer the kitchen but the gardens of the old castle they called home.

Sounds. It needs sounds. Zexion furrowing his brow as he concentrated, eyes screwing shut as the sound of water trickled in, accompanied by bird song and the sound of the town below. It’s perfect, his breaths coming a little harder from exertion as he looks to Lexaeus for a reaction, hoping for happiness only to receive concern.

“Did I do something wrong?” His voice is quiet, insecure, mind running a mile a minute as he tried to go over what he did to cause such a reaction only to snap out of his thoughts as a hand comes down on his shoulder, gentle yet firm, grounding him as he nearly sent himself spiralling into another downward trajectory of ill thoughts.

Lexaeus offers a smile, small but still there, not as warm as it used to be but Zexion was growing used to the changes in his other apprentices now. “No, it’s beautiful.” There’s something else there, something the giant wants to add on but is seemingly fighting with himself over admitting before sighing, inhaling sharply and seeming to regain his apparently fleeting confidence in his words. “Let’s keep this a secret for now.”

“A secret?”

“Yes, a secret for just us.” He doesn’t fully understand the need for secrecy, biting his lower lip as he thinks for a moment before nodding, wondering if it was a touch more serious than he first thought as Lexaeus relaxes, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Taking a deep breath, Zexion lets the illusion of Radiant garden fade away, the grey blue sky replaced by stark white, metallic walls as the patchwork of stone dissolves into nothing. There are no more birds, or breeze, the warm smells of autumn fading away into the smells of whatever dish Lexaeus was making this evening.

He could keep a secret. Axel and Saix had a secret, Xemnas also had secrets. What was another secret after all that?

[signaturedish]

A question for ur TF fic. What if when Harry gets turned he's like, younger? When it happens I mean (He is 10 right?) Like, five or something maybe? What would change? How would the bots and cons react? How would Harry react?

Hey you! Sorry that took a hot minute. 

Yeah, Harry’s ten in the fic. 

The way I intended it was that he was clearly ten in his internal monologue right up until he was turned into a robobaby. Then the trauma on top of a completely different set of instincts had him thinking and behaving a good 5-3 years younger than his current age with a gradual upward incline as he got more comfortable and familiar with himself in later chapters. Right now in the narrative, he’s almost back to normal, we’re just waiting on a returning desire for independence which won’t happen until he’s secure in his relationship with Megs.

So to make him five, I think that drop in maturity would come off much more dramatically. He was a pretty independent human ten-year-old, resigned to his treatment as a servant, and capable on his own. A five-year-old Harry would be far newer to his servant status and much more unsure of himself from the getgo- Five-year-olds aren’t built for the kind of independence the Durselys expect from him, we’re right in the middle of those growing pains. 

Then we turn him into a robobaby. 

(I like the age I chose for Harry but sad baby Harry was so cute I made this a little long for more details, excuse my indulgence)

Appearance-wise he wouldn’t change much. He’s already too small and at the youngest growth stage, his internal programming would probably be more toddler-esque with a stronger inclination to cry for attention, a greater need for positive attention, and more automatic behaviors geared toward inciting those things. 

Oh and he keeps his lisp.

The first few days would be a nightmare, like constant crying, deeply distressed at all times, desperately reaching out to the scientists on blind instinct and getting reprimanded for it at every turn. A whole mess, a whole inconsolable mess, the scientists think there’s something fundamentally wrong with him, he’s incoherent past the point of even perceived aggression. 

Then Megatron makes his move. He’s been hearing what sounds like a newspark being tortured for hours and hours and now that he can see that it probably isn’t a sleep paralysis-level nightmare driving him to madness he needs to Handle This ASAP.

First problem- Harry isn’t responding to cool, logical instructions to communicate through comm. He’s way past regular conversation. 

This is eventually resolved when Megatron very clumsily takes the right stabs at comforting him. It takes hours, some sullen silences, panicking, maybe a soft reboot or two, but he does get there. Crooning lullabies, softer sentences, praise when Harry stops crying, Megatron is flying so blind it isn’t even funny but he’s not dumb, he can see it’s working.

The transformers view PA!Harry as a very gifted and mature toddler. This itty bitty little baby can fit so much serious thought and a burgeoning emotional intelligence in it so they try their best to accommodate and not come off terribly condescending. Success varies. 

Younger!Harry acts much truer to his appearance. So in general, how the TF crew thinks of Harry changes very little, but how they respond to him does.

Megatron is as soft as he can possibly be to the point of genuine pain. Harry is so much more emotionally dependant and lost that it’s less easy to drift back into overlord mode around him. You’ll note that Megatron doesn’t have another mode to switch to, just a rusty parental unit protocol set he’s never activated before. Soundwave gets called down immediately, surveillance be damned, he needs someone with caretaking knowledge and he needs them now. 

Bumblebee doesn’t really perceive the difference, he couldn’t clock Harry’s age in any au, he was kinda sure the bot was glitched initially. His genuine confusion when Harry kicks and screams and sobs like a very young child who’s thinnest thread of guidance was just ripped away from him by a lying yellow monster easily comes across as cruelty. The mistrust and fear/hatred Harry develops for him does not mellow for far longer than his stay with the Autobots.

On the bright side his meltdown makes the Autobots come to terms with their find much more quickly. They could hear the distress calls a mile from the dam and had a lot of the freakout there instead. 

Ironhide rips him out of Bumblebee’s cab while Jazz is split between hovering worriedly and tearing the scout to pieces for allowing him to get so worked up. Similar rough aesthetic and coloring to Megatron and an English accent help a great deal in calming Harry down and the rocking and lullabies do the rest. 

Every Autobot has his targeting systems on and a whole lot of automatic aggression coursing through them with the terror and pain of a sparkling still fresh in the air. After Bumblebee is brought to miserable apologies and Bonecrusher is ripped limb from limb they’re still pumped and ready to Throw Down with Megatron. But he just makes that deal to keep Harry safe and assures Harry that he’ll be okay with Optimus and Megs’ll be back soon. 

Harry is still distraught Megatron left him with strangers. But he’s there long enough to form those Autobot attachments, primarily with Ironhide, Ratchet and Jazz.

Ironhide doesn’t put him down much at all, even when Harry tries to hide it, he gets anxious all alone on the cot and much prefers the nook between pauldron and helm to cuddle in and listen to growly war stories and life lessons. He sleeps up there whenever possible too. Ironhide can tell all this and happily allows it, staying stock-still for hours and gently rousing him whenever Harry begins to have a nightmare about the dam.

Ironhide’s perception hasn’t logically changed much, but the way Harry behaves ticks every box to drive him into an overprotective rampage, to the point that humans aren’t allowed within thirty feet of him and even the tiniest whimper has him hovering like three thousand pounds of promised death over his charge. 

They bond the closest, to the point that Ironhide could plausibly replace Megatron as Harry’s imprinted guardian (but he doesn’t).

Jazz and Ratchet share tertiary ‘older brother’ type roles in Harry’s life. Jazz reads to him, plays games with him, and holds him when Ironhide can’t be there. His playful casualness helps keep Harry calm and gets him to open up, but its not something he responds to as successfully. Camaraderie is appreciated but not something an insecure five-year-old always understands.

Jazz gains the most points correcting Optimus’ treatment of him and handling any humans who get into the hanger before Ironhide does something drastic. Thinks that play up his aptitude as a parental figure and devotion to keeping him healthy and safe. 

Ratchet...he really needs Harry’s observational skills and willingness to shoulder some emotional weight in the relationship, unfair or not. Without the ability to deliver the reassurance Ratchet needs, in addition to possessing a much more fragile disposition himself, it can be difficult for Ratchet to interact with Harry. He keeps to himself when Harry doesn’t ask for him or need treatment and they read rejection in each other’s hesitance too often for Harry to pursue the affection fit to burst in Ratchet.

Ratchet would 100% die for him and is right up there with Ironhide as his most aggressive defender, but he isn’t a great source of comfort for Younger!Harry. He wins his points through being the best cuddler, hands down, and praising him most often. Soft moments when neither of them are shy or afraid are where they’re closest.

Optimus is weirdly like Bumblebee here. He has Harry clocked as infant but god knows that that’s supposed to mean. He doesn’t have a mode outside of Prime to switch to for Harry and the stumbling we see in PA is him doing his very best. He’s not dumb, he recognizes that Harry isn’t emotionally mature enough to be spoken to the way he might mistakenly speak to him in PA, but he doesn’t have any other words. There’s a lot of frustrated staring and helpless silences here. 

Jazz tries his best to gently encourage some softer interactions and Ironhide is raring to punish his Prime if he dares misstep with his sparkling charge, tensions stay a little high.

With Soundwave planning Harry’s extraction, it goes off almost without a hitch, no sparklings were bitten in the attempt at least. Thundercracker might actually die depending on the plan. He has the most experience out of the Decepticons with immature and young bots via his own casseticons and a paternal disposition under all his cool logic. So he’s bustling around like an expectant mother, training up all the other Cons in grueling exercises and curriculum to get them up to his standards of child rearing aptitude and childproofing the base.

Megatron really does appreciate some tangible, reliable instructions. He’d appreciate it even more if he wasn’t a little bit threatened by how confident and capable Soundwave is when interacting with Harry. Soundwave quickly becomes the second favorite- almost on par with Ironhide.

Barricade is terrified of Harry in that way twenty-somethings are terrified when married friends give them babies and then leave to do something. This is way too important and delicate for him and someone pleaserescuehimitsgettingcloserohmygod-

Thundercracker is much more cautious handling Harry. We haven’t gotten there yet in PA, but he’s kind of the fun uncle who definitely goads Harry into things partially to get under Meg’s skin. Not so when Harry is more openly vulnerable and clumsy, now we’ve got a little baby chick who needs to stay in his nest and be warm and safe. Gliding will happen much, much later. If ever.

Harry was affected by how the scientists treated him to the point of being intensely shy around friendly, good humans and flatly terrified of anyone else. Megatron hunted down every remaining SS agent with Soundwave’s help to finish the job for that.

Eventually, Harry would feel more secure and comfortable and would start wanting to be on the ground and playing with less parental bots instead of carried everywhere by his guardians, but that recovery is achieved at the Decepticon base after some weeks have passed.

Okay and I think that’s it! Thanks for asking!! I had probably too much fun...

[trashinaglass-archive]

Hurt

Y/n gets hurt on set

Request: helloo, i loveee ur works. and i was just wondering if i could request a tom holland imagine where the reader is working on a movie set and gets hurt in a stunt accident and tom, the reader bf flys our from britain to the hospital (where ever the film location is - you decide!) and he takes care of her. a little bit angsty and fluffy if that’s not too much trouble? thank u lovely xxxx

Warnings: Motorbike accident

A/n: In a single day, I accidentally punched the corner of a door, bruising my knuckles and thought something was broken for a sec, and then a few hours later I stubbed my toe which ripped my entire nail off, and then a few hours later I sliced my arm open while I was shaving. Pain and hurt is a very acquainted topic at the moment😬

(Tom on his way to save you after hearing you’ve been hurt)

Being an actress is fun, they said. It’s really easy, they said. But no one said that something like this could happen.

You were filming a movie in Atlanta- an action film alongside some amazing actors and filmmakers. This was the first film where you were able to do some pretty cool stunts on your own. You loved what you were able to do thus far, but you weren’t prepared for what would happen in just a few moments.

You were doing a stunt where your character was getting chased by the bad guys- they were in Range Rovers while you were on a motorcycle. This was the first time you had ever driven one. The company paid for you to get lessons so you could get comfortable and be able to do it yourself because they wanted you to do it, not a stunt double.

You were steering your bike down the road until you realized something was wrong. The gas pedal was stuck in it’s position and not letting up. You pressed the break to try to slow down, but the break wasn’t working either. You were gradually building speed, with no way to stop, and you didn’t know what to do.

You started to yell out alerting the crew of the situation. They tried to tell you what to do, but you couldn’t understand what they were saying. You ultimately lost control of the bike and crashed to the ground, hitting your head on the concrete and rolling. You were also hit by one of the cars that wasn’t able to stop in time.

You remember feeling shocked and tired before your eyes closed. The next time you opened your eyes, you were in an ambulance being rushed to the nearest hospital. You felt dazed and confused, unsure of what was going on. You were only certain of one thing- pain. You felt pain in every inch of your body.

One of the EMT’s noticed you were awake and started to ask you questions- who you are, what you do, what year it is, who your parents are, etc. Thankfully you didn’t have any kind of amnesia.

“Is there someone we can call for you? Any family?” she asked you.

“My boyfriend, Tom,” you rasped out before giving her his number. You arrived to the hospital and were taken back for tests and, ultimately, an emergency surgery.

// Tom pov //

Tom was hanging out in his and Harrison’s shared flat when he got the call.

“Mr. Holland?” He heard a deep, male voice ask.

“Yes?” He asked confused.

“This is Dr. Kalu from Atlanta Medical Center. Y/n has just arrived to the ER by ambulance. She’s stable, but she has been rushed into emergency surgery. Is there anything we need to know? Allergies, health problems, anything?”

“She’s allergic to bactrim, but that’s it. What happened?” Tom replied quickly. He began to feel panicked- he didn’t know what put you in the hospital or what the injuries were. He immediately sat at his computer and began to pull the first ticket to Atlanta.

“There was an accident on a film set, that’s all I can say right now. I would suggest you get here soon though,” the doctor said before hanging up. Tom had found a ticket leaving for Atlanta today in just four hours. He ordered the ticket and ran to his room, shoving random clothes into a bag before running to Harrison’s room.

Harrison and the twins were sat in the room talking about some project they were working on together. They went from happy to worried with one look at Tom’s face.

“Something happened, and y/n’s hurt- I’m flying to Atlanta right now,” he spit out before running for the door. He heard the boys yelling at him, asking for details or something. Tom didn’t stop to listen or pay attention.

He made it to the airport and to his gate as quickly as possible before there was nothing more for him to do but wait. He sat in the chair and pulled out his phone, starting to text you. He felt like he was in a dream- you couldn’t really be hurt.

Thomas❤️: y/n, please answer me. Let me know you’re okay. I don’t know what’s going on and it’s scaring me.

He knew if what the doctor said was true, he wouldn’t be receiving a text back anytime soon, but he could only hope.

Tom sent three more texts before he gave up. He put his head in his hands and tried not to cry. This was the worst possible situation he could think of- you getting hurt a thousand miles away from him and having no clue what happened or what state you’re in.

After waiting for an hour, Tom boarded the plane. Nine hours to get to you. He sat back in his seat, put his headphones in and willed himself to fall asleep.

Tom woke to the turbulence and announcement that they are close to landing. After the plane touched ground and stopped at the gate, Tom was immediately out of his seat and headed for the door of the plane. He got several strange looks from other passengers, but he didn’t pay them any mind.

Tom rushed into the airport, grabbing his bags before he found a taxi service. He told the man he needed to get to the hospital quickly, and they ushered him to a cab and took off. It wasn’t a long trip before he arrived, paying the man, and practically running into the hospital.

“Y/n,” he gave your name to the lady at the front desk before she could even greet him. “Where is she?” He watched as she typed on her computer, finding your name and room number. Tom going to the elevator and finding your room.

He went to open the door right as it opened from inside. Tom stepped back as he saw a doctor coming out of your room.

“Are you Tom?” The man asked.

“Yeah,” he answered before his waterfall of questions poured out. “What happened to y/n? Why is she here? Is she going to be okay?”

“I was told she was involved in a motorbike accident on the film set. She broke a few facial bones and suffered a concussion. She has a few broken ribs, one of which punctured her lung so we had to do surgery to repair that. Her legs and arms are covered in roadrash,” the doctor told him. Tom felt his heart sink hearing everything that you had endured. “She’s extremely lucky. Hearing what I did about the accident, she could have ended up a lot worse.”

“Is she awake? Can I see her?” Tom asked.

“She’s asleep- still under from the anesthesia, should be awake in a few minutes. You’re more than welcome to sit with her.” Tom nodded his head. “Let us or the nurses know if there’s anything we can do for either of you,” the doctor said before walking away.

Tom looked at the door, preparing himself before walking into the room. He saw you laying in the bed on your back, a small tube connected to your arm. He pulled a chair right next to your bed and sat down next to you. He found your hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a kiss to the back of it. He continued to hold your hand in his as he reached a free hand to your head, stroking your hair.

He felt a tear fall as he looked at you. Almost the entire left side of your face was cut and bruised, a decent sized cut going across your temple and down your cheek. He brought his hand back down from your head and held your single hand with both of his. He felt more tears in his eyes as he noticed the ring on your finger. He had given it to you as an anniversary gift- you were suppose to take it off when filming, but this time you didn’t.

He sat like that for the next ten minutes before you began to wake up. Tom squeezed your hand as he watched you, standing up to look at you properly. You felt pain all over, before you even opened your eyes. But when you did, you found yourself face to face with Tom.

“Tommy,” you said in a hoarse whisper, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Hey, darling,” Tom replied. “You really know how to scare the shit out of me, don’t you.”

The doctor came in, in that moment. “Hi, y/n. I’m Dr. Kalu. How are you feeling?”

“Horrible,” you told him.

“That’s what I was expecting. We’re going to give you some pain medicine, and we want to keep you for a while just to observe and make sure you’re healing correctly before we let you go. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?” He asked looking at you.

“Can I have some water?” You asked him.

“I’ll get the nurses to get you some. Anything else? Tom?”

“I’m fine,” Tom told the doctor, who nodded his head.

“Alright, I’ll check back in with you soon,” Dr. Kalu said before leaving. You looked back at Tom to see him already looking at you.

“When did you get here?” You asked him.

“About 15 minutes ago, maybe? The doctor called me and said you were hurt, and I was on the next flight out. You have no idea how scared I was.” Tom stopped talking as a nurse walked in with some water. “Thank you,” Tom told her. “What happened?” He asked you, wanting to know first hand how you got here.

“We were doing a scene with me on a motorcycle, some cars behind me. I don’t know what happened, but I just lost control of the bike, and next thing you know, I’m coming down,” you explained to him. “Do I look horrible?” You asked him. He softly chuckled at your question.

“A little bruised up, but you’re still the most beautiful girl in the world,” Tom told you, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“Thank you for being here,” you told him. “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t.”

“I’ll always be here for you. It doesn’t matter where you are- if you need me, I’ll find you,” Tom promised as he bend down to kiss your head, being as gentle as possible.

. . .

Two days later, you were still in the hospital, but not by yourselves anymore. You heard a knock at your door and saw the twins walk in with ‘get well soon’ balloons, flowers, stuffed animals, and McDonald’s.

“I said one flower arrangement- maybe a balloon, but not the whole fucking store. And why do you have McDonald’s?” Tom asked as he saw the goods in his brothers arms.

“Hear me out,” Sam started. “This is from me, this is from Harry, these are from Paddy, this is from Mum, this is from Dad, these are from Tessa, this is from Harrison, and these are from the grandparents.” He showed you the different items as he told you who they were from. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you thought it was super cute.

“And we figured you’d be sick of the hospital food so we got you this too,” Harry said holding up the bag of food before placing it on the table beside you.

“Thanks guys,” you told them.

“So how are you feeling? Is it still as bad as it was when it happened?” Sam asked you.

“It hurts, but they have me on some good pain killers so it’s manageable. I just wish I could be in my own bed.”

“Paddy wanted us to tell you that he hopes you feel better. He wanted to come visit too but school,” Harry told you.

“Bless,” You said. “He’s a good kid.”

“What’s your plan for when you get out of here?” Harry asked.

“Straight home,” you told him. “I won’t be doing much of anything for a while, and filming has been halted for the foreseeable future. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“I bet, I would hate being stuck in here,” Sam replied. “Are you going to be staying at your place or hers when you two get home?�� He asked Tom.

“Hers,” Tom said while gesturing his head towards you.

“Did you really have to ask to know that answer?” You said teasingly.

“True,” Sam said with a nod.

“What? You got severely injured and put in the hospital when I was far away from you,” Tom started to say. “You can bet your sweet ass I’m not leaving you for as long as I can manage.”

Hearing Tom’s words made your heart flutter. You couldn’t imagine how scared he was to hear that you had been hurt- you knew if it were the other way around, you would have been terrified.

“Well, it’s getting late. We’re gonna head out, see you two tomorrow,” Harry said as him and Sam got up, gingerly hugging you and heading out.

You looked at Tom again as the twins closed the door. “Will you lay with me?” You asked him. You feel like, even though he was right next to you, he was so far away. You needed to be close to him.

“I don’t want to hurt you, love,” he said, not moving from his seat.

“You won’t, just lay on this side. Please? I deserve a cuddle,” you practically begged him. He sighed knowing he wouldn’t win. He stood up, walking to the other side of the bed as you scoot over to make room for him.

He sat on the bed next to you and laid back, arms open. You laid your body next to his- your head resting against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, trying to be as gentle as possible. You felt Tom press a kiss to your forehead as you closed your eyes, falling into a deep, welcomed sleep.

I... loved... this!! Thank you for the request.

Also, Dr. Kalu is based off a doctor from The Good Doctor- a hunk👌🏽

[onceuponanaromantic]

Coming Home

(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial​‘s prompt of the week: Alien Sunsets. Set after the end of Constellations in the dreamverse universe (because yes there’s going to be more of dreamverse!!)

Kastoris isn’t sure what she should be feeling right now, but it probably isn’t this.

             She’s leaning against Fei, who in turn is leaning against a tree. The sand is gritty and grainy around their feet, and Kastoris is pretty sure her first thoughts about the sand and the sea and the sky aren’t supposed to be that it’s too warm and too solid and too… too rough.

             And she’s aware! Kastoris is perfectly aware of how that sounds because she was supposed to have grown up here, on Dirister, and she would have and she does actually remember what it was like to be a small child and be under the sun all day and have lessons. (And she does remember what it was like to be beaten for every not-A grade and she does remember she wasn’t a baby when they left.)

             But the sunset, painting the sky all pink and gold and orange, looks so strange and feels so unnaturally warm. The sunset on Dirister is supposed to be one she’s familiar with, especially because she remembers missing it for the first year when they were in Cloud, and she remembers being a child and staring at the sky and wondering if she could paint that. (And knowing that she would never be allowed to because that would be art and she wouldn’t get the marks for it and she wouldn’t get an A.)

             She’s leaning against Fei and she realises for the first time in months that this is the first time in two years that she’s just sat with Fei, with the older sister she’s actually closest to in age, and not talked about work or been doing work. Crossways has been taking up a lot of their collective time and Kastoris doesn’t begrudge Soren it! Kastoris knows that Soren is doing good work and important work and that they’ve always tried their best for them.

             But at this precise moment, where the sun is setting and the long shadows being cast along the beach and the ocean breeze is salty and gentle and tickling her hair and cheeks and arms, Kastoris doesn’t know how to feel.

             It should be safe. It should be comforting, after all, like all the stories about coming home after being away for a long time. It should be good and warm and Kastoris knows. Kastoris knows she’s Diristerian; it’s not easy to forget when you’ve been reminded pretty consistently for the past ten years that you’re Diristerian and mortal, and well, not a wind spirit or faerie at all.

             Kastoris doesn’t know what she is. Because a human should be comforted by the sunset on a beach, but Kastoris isn’t. Kastoris doesn’t know where she belongs and that… that scares her.

             “You want to talk?” Fei asks.

             Kastoris nearly jolts because she didn’t actually expect Fei to talk. But Fei’s looking at her expectantly and Kastoris hasn’t talked to her sister in a while, and Kastoris doesn’t know how to start.

             There’s a caw from a flock of seagulls flying over the sea. Kastoris lies back, letting her whole weight rest against her sister. Kastoris feels something, and she thinks and is pretty sure it’s an ant, crawl over her right leg, and she flinches hard.

             Hard enough that she dislodges herself from Fei and lands in the sand. The sand gets all over her skin and Kastoris can’t help but panic.

             It’s burning against her skin, and its small tiny ants crawling everywhere and its darkness and its warmth and for a moment, Kastoris can’t breathe. The sand is sharp in areas and it’s prickling her skin like thousands of tiny needles and she didn’t realise it would hurt she didn’t realise it would be solid and painful and-

             “Let’s get out of the beach, yes?” Fei says quietly, wrapping her arms around Kastoris’ wrists and forearms. She brushes Kastoris off gently and wraps the picnic blanket around her and then guides her back in the direction of the Doorway back to the clinic.

             They turn away from the sunset, and Kastoris knows what she’s feeling at this moment, and at the moment where she steps past the Doorway back to the Space that Crossways was in.

             The feeling is relief.

             (Fei looks down at her younger sister and just smiles. There’s something about being the forgotten sister that leads to understanding things that others never have to consider.)