#is like his wail but evolved

[nelkcats]

Siren's Judgment

Whenever someone died, Jason swore that he heard a song. Sometimes at the moment of death, other times during the funeral. But it was always present. He felt that it was calling him.

On one occasion, when Zatanna commented that the veil with the "dimension of the dead" was weak he heard the singing again. And he decided to follow it, perhaps on impulse.

He arrived at a cemetery, where a boy with white hair was singing softly to a grave. A small white sphere rose from the grave and the spirit of a girl formed around the sphere. She was laughing, and dancing around the boy. When the girl disappeared into thin air the boy stared his toxic green eyes at him.

"I was waiting for you Jason Todd" the boy said, not without kindness "I know you're not under my jurisdiction anymore but I'm worried, are you happy here?"

"What do you mean?" Jason muttered in confusion, he felt strangely calm but that only heightened his caution. "Who are you?"

"You can call me Danny" The halfa replied, giving up at keeping his name a secret, he knew that this particular soul was stubborn anyway "I'm the one in charge of taking the souls to the other side, but yours never wanted that, so I need to know, are you happy or no?"

"I don't know," Jason finally answered with a frown, "why do you want to know?"

"It's not important" Danny shrugged "I'll stick around until you figure it out, the veil will be weak for a couple of months anyway."

And with that said Danny stayed next to Jason, becoming visible only to him. The halfa needed to know that letting him revive was not a bad decision. And besides, he had to guide him in the path of the halfas later.

Jason just thought that the ghost of a mermaid was haunting him. He wondered if he should alert someone about that.

[vamplu]

“Until You’re Pregnant” | Leon Kennedy

A/N: I woke up around 4 after having a W dream and wrote this. Enjoy!

CW: Breeding, Implied Age Gap, 18+, MDNI

——————————————————————<

“Gonna breed this sweet pussy.” Leon groaned, lips pressed into your neck, finding purchase by sucking on the skin. His hips smacked against yours, balls hitting the flesh of your ass with each hard, deep thrust. He was getting close- grunts and groans evolving into sultry moans and sinful promises

“Please!” You cried, nails scratching at the DSO agent’s back- with your knees pushed back into your chest, Leon’s cock was pistoning right into your sweet spot with each thrust.

“Grippin’ me like a vice.” He moaned, “My sweet girl, gonna make such a great momma. Imagine you, all round and swollen, full of my babies.”

You moaned at the thought, nails digging into him. He moaned at the pain, always having been somewhat of a masochist. Luckily for him, you always dug your claws in- always let him plow in and out of you until he was shooting blanks and crying from how many times he’d dumped his seed into you.

“Can’t believe such a pretty thing sticks around with an old man like me.” Leon chuckled, the sound interrupted by a husky moan.

You could barely think- so fixated on the feeling of him, buried so deep inside it felt like you were splitting in two, cock nestled inside you like it was made for it. God, it felt so good. Much better than any guy you’d ever been with prior to Leon- what they said about older guys, it was true. They were so much better in bed.

“I’m gonna-” You wailed, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. The knot in your stomach tightened and tightened, filling you with a burning situation. Your hips moved in an attempt to pull Leon closer, feel him deeper.

“Go ahead, baby girl. Cum for me.” Leon urged, sealing his words with a sloppy, sticky kiss. He sucked on your tongue and the knot in your stomach completely unraveled, leaving you gushing around his cock.

Spurred on by the way you tightened up around him, making it increasingly difficult to pull out of you to ram his way back in, Leon’s cock twitched, his own orgasm incoming like a deadly tsunami.

Leon pulled away staring at your fucked out face as he rode you through your orgasm. Your nose was scrunched up cutely, eyes tightly screwed shut. Tears slipped down your face, hair sticking to your forehead due to layers of sweat. The visage of your face and the tight embrace of your cunt carried him over the edge, and he let out a guttural moan as he buried himself as deep as he could, pushing spurts of hot cum into your cervix.

He shifted around so that he was spooning you, cock still nestled in your warmth. Instead of softening, his cock began to harden again. You whined, but he shushed with a promise, “Told you I was gonna breed you. I’m not done until I’m sure you’re pregnant.”

[i23kazu]

SLEEPY PAPA CUDDLES

characters. neuvillette x gn!reader genre. domestic romantic fluff. an. MORE melusine daddy content. please send help guys i literally cannot stop making daddy neuvi content | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

on the days when some of the melusine get sick, neuvillette wishes he could stay home.

the heartbroken wails of his sick littlest ones pierce his heart – but as chief justice, he rarely gets to take the day off. even after scouring the pages of the fontainian law books, he finds nothing that allows him to take parental leave because his child is sick... because you're a stay at home parent.

(therefore, the responsibility falls onto you to take care of the little ones, as much as neuvillette would like to share it with you.)

early in the morning, you feel some sort of movement within your bed... you sleepily turn to look at neuvillette getting up and walking to your littlest's room.

"it's alright, ma trésor... papa's here." you can hear him attempting to soothe little puca.

puca's cries resound through the halls of the house, neuvillette's quiet shh-shhs soon following. it's not long til you hear the sobs that turn to whimpers, a sweet picture of puca laying her head on your husband's shoulder forming.

it doesn't get better when everyone is awake. iara, puca, and mela are all now down with the same cold puca cried her little lungs out for last night, and all three sweethearts sniffle at the dining table, hot soup freshly ladled out in front of them.

"papa, don't go! please?" iara cries, tugging on neuvillette's sleeve. justice has no time left to waste, and neither does your husband.

"i'm sorry, ma petit ange, but i have to go to work," neuvillette responds remorsefully, picking up iara and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"but i don't want you to go! stay home! i want to stay with you!" iara wails, burying her head in neuvillette's shoulder. he begins to bounce her gently on his hip.

"i'll see all of you tonight, ma chérie. alright? i'll come back early today."

at last, little iara's hands seem to finally let go of neuvillette's shirt, her sobs still wracking her frame.

"come here, sweet girl," you gently hug her from behind, gathering the little melusine in your arms. iara bursts into wails once she hugs you tightly, heart broken over feeling sick and having to say goodbye to papa.

you distract the children while neuvillette slips away to work, undetected. the rest of the day goes somewhat smoothly, with the older ones helping out around the house while the younger ones rest in bed.

by the time the clock says that papa was about to come home, all of the little melusines that lived in your household were all fast asleep, hands softly tucked under the covers.

"i'm home-" neuvillette walks in, setting his work bag down. why was it so quiet? a typical day included a chorus of "welcome home, papa!" and the pitter-pattering of melusine feet padding to the doorway.

"mon cœur! please, calme– i just got the bébés to take a nap," you shush him, cracking open the door to the melusine's room, just a touch.

neuvillette wants to laugh. never in his... centuries? eons? of life, did he ever think he would have evolved to be a man of domesticity.

i know nothing of french all of this was google

reblogs w/ tags & comments appreciated !!!

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @aqualesha (send ask to be added to taglist)

[alfredosauce50]

Parent headcanons: Alfred, Allen, Matt, & Mathias

When it comes to the trials of adulthood, they have their own ways of getting on top. But parenting is what really puts them to the test. Starting a family and being one of the sole carers for another person will shine a light on the best and worst parts of them.

The big news

Alfred

He has the most normal reaction out of the four. Panic, acceptance, then excitement, he’s finally moving onto the final stages of adulthood and achieving his lifelong dream. Being a suburban dad and getting that white picket fence. It’s not just about liking kids, Alfred is rather traditional when it comes to his values; he has always romanticized the American dream. He already has a good job, all he needs is to make it happen.

“Fuuuuuck,” He whispers, eyes wide as he rakes his hands through his hair. He stands there for a few minutes, staring into space as you watch him tensely for his reaction. “We’re ready to be parents, right?”

Allen

He will freak out. Planned or unplanned, he’s not mentally prepared to be a father. He doesn’t think he’s good enough, but knows deep down he has to be. That’s what really scares him. If he needs to improve himself, it’s now or never. So after a week of panicking and catastrophizing, he’s ready to give himself a second chance — even if it’s for someone else. But his selflessness is key to his perseverance, and eventual success.

“I fucked up,” He squeezes you like a lifeline. It was the only conclusion he could come to after hours of talking about it, the only thing he could ever truly understand. “I fucked up. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Mathias

He’ll be over the moon. He’s gonna be even more excited than you, but that’s kinda given when he doesn’t have to carry the baby and deliver it. Point is, Mathias is very family-oriented, so don’t expect anything less. He’s the most self-affirmed a person can be too, so he’s always ready to move onto the next stage in life. His nurturing character and openness to change will help you immensely in periods of stress and uncertainty.

“I’m so happy that I could cry,” He whispers with his head on your tummy. He’s half-awake after burning out from his own excitement, but his spirit is still in the right place. “We’re finally gonna have a family.”

Matt

Letting you into his life was already a miracle, and now he’s gonna be a dad? This is a human being that he’ll have to be responsible for, not something he can simply tap out of and run away from. Matt is driven by his interests, solitude, and above all else, his freedom. A baby would take away all of those things, and he’s so troubled by it that he disappears for a few weeks. He comes home to a slap, but it’s well-deserved.

“Are you gonna keep hitting me, or are you gonna let me go to my shed?” He sighs, closing his eyes as you keep wailing on him. And he just takes it, absorbing every strike that was your burning love for him.

“Why, so you can keep—” You shove him harshly so that he actually stumbles back. “—hiding from me?”

“No, I’m gonna build a crib and make some toys.”

Parenting style

Alfred

He’s everything you’d expect from a new parent. Freaking out over the little things, screaming when they do something new, burning out after weeks of sleep deprivation, etc. He isn’t perfect, and you’re gonna have to work with him like any other partner, but before you know it, the house is filled with photo frames. He’s your best friend, and sometimes before your partner, so he has a hard time giving and taking. But it’s also why you two will stick together through thick and thin.

Alfred eventually evolves into the archetype of fathers. He takes the backseat and tells his kids, ‘I don’t know, go ask your mother,’ or even gets in trouble for doing stupid things like leaving the toilet seat up. When you just finished yelling at the kids, he comes to them later and goes, ‘someone’s in a bad mood today,’ when he’s just glad it wasn’t him. But when it’s something really serious, he flips like a switch and takes the lead. When that happens, there’s no talking him down.

“Alright gang, ready to get the show on the road?” Alfred rubs his hands together excitedly before he starts the car. “When we get there, I want everyone to be on their best behavior. I’m already on thin ice.”

He has high expectations for his kids. Ever since they popped out, he’s been giving them the best of the best, like nice clothes, family trips, sports leagues, and dance. He also wants them to go to a prestigious university in the future and to do all the things he might have missed out on. Cue the ‘that’s your dream, not mine, dad!’ Alfred can be hard on his children when it comes to success, so you need to remind him they’ve got minds of their own and are not carbon copies of him.

He says he prefers sons until he gets a daughter. Alfred is an absolute sweetheart to his girls, and is way more lenient with them than his boys. He doesn’t mean to play favorites, but it’s just how he’s wired. However, it also means being quite strict and protective when they get to that age. No drinking and no sleepovers with boys present. Men are all animals according to him. But dad, aren’t you a man? Exactly! He’s the pioneer of ‘anything you do to my daughter, I do to you.’

Allen

He tried his absolute best to prepare, but it starts off a disaster. What can go wrong will go wrong. The baby gets sick, you’re away on urgent family business, so he needs to do it all without you. Allen stays in hospital with the baby overnight, and slowly, but surely, they get better. He ends up neglecting himself to put his child’s needs first, and by the time you get back, he’s burning up with a fever. But the baby is perfectly content and sleeping soundly in the crib because of him.

He wants the best for his family, even if it means sacrificing everything he has. He understands his limits, but there’s nothing he won’t do to make sure his kid gets every opportunity he never had. Sports, college, you name it. If everybody in class has branded sneakers, he’ll buy a pair just so they don’t feel left out. He’s always proud of his baby, and if anybody tried to bully them, they’ll have to answer to him. Allen sees the best of him in his child, but usually fails to see it in himself.

“You can have my egg. I’m not hungry, baby.” Allen says, sliding his plate to his little girl. He knows that you won’t be back with the groceries for an hour or so, and no kids are going hungry on his watch.

Allen doesn’t think there’s a particular way of parenting because no one child is the same. So long as they do their homework, get out under the sun, and have a good attitude, the rest is to be decided. If his child needs extra support, he’ll give it to them, and if they need a reality check, he’ll give that to them too. He reminds them how hard life can be without stability, so they should take their future seriously, but at the same time, he’s always gonna be there to give them a home.

Nobody would mess with his kids after one look at him. He’s an ex-marine without the ‘ex.’ His daughter will have trouble finding a boyfriend to begin with because of him, and when she finally does, they’re gonna have to gain his respect to be trusted with looking after his little girl. If his son ever gets into a fight, he’ll ask if he won then whoop his ass later. And in the principle’s office, he’s giving the other kid the worst stink-eye ever. He’s the dad that could beat up the other dads.

Mathias

He’s a total natural; all is well when the baby is in his care. He may be all over the place, but when he really cares about something, he’s in a constant state of hyper focus. The baby will always be clean, well-fed, and happy, so don’t worry about a thing. There’s also no such thing as 50/50 with Mathias. He knows that there will be times when one person has to take the lead. It’s not in his nature to keep track of who’s giving and taking the most. He’s too mature for that.

It’s like experiencing a second childhood for him. Reading picture books, fairytales, playing with legos, or going to places he went to as a kid, he treats parenthood as a chance to relive his best memories and love every second of it. He will never miss a parent event, performance, and appointment. His dedication makes him very perceptive of his child, so he always knows what to do or say to cheer them up. As they grow up, they maintain a very close relationship to him.

“We wanna go to Legoland!”

“You mean, you wanna go to Legoland,” You laugh at him, “I heard you talking to Bjorn about it last night.”

“That’s so he can make an informed decision, of course,” Mathias grins, not showing a hint of shame as he shuffles over with his phone on the home page of the Legoland site. “So I take that it’s decided?”

He’s a great parent, but he’s by no means strict. All he wants is for them to have a fighting chance in the world, like doing a job that they enjoy. He’s great at communicating with his kids and has a lot of compassion, which takes them a long way. He’s never had to discipline them besides setting boundaries and occasionally grounding them. You rule the home with a firmer hand, and maybe that’s why your kids respect you more but treat him more like a friend than a parent sometimes.

Mathias doesn’t bat an eye when his kids first start dating. He’s always been quite liberal, so he just tells them to be careful about the birds and the bees, then to talk to him if things get testy. The one thing he’ll do is to ensure they have high standards. Love is life’s reward, not something to cry yourself to sleep about. Eventually, he’ll invite their date over for dinner, and as it turns out, he’d be a great father in law. He’s very welcoming and treats any future Densens like one of his own.

Matt

He’s a trial-by-error, improvise as you go along kinda dad. He hasn’t put much thought into the trials of childcare, but he always works things out in his own way. If the bub keeps crying because they don’t want to be bottle-fed by him, he will cover his face with a picture of you. Easy-peasy. If they’re crawling around the bed, he will use them as a mousepad as he scrolls on his laptop. That way, he gets some leisure time while making sure they don’t actually go anywhere.

Matt is the opposite to a helicopter parent. When his kid trips and face plants into the ground, he doesn’t react. The trick is to not acknowledge it, because only then will they cry. He isn’t afraid to let them explore the world and gain their own agency. It’s good for them, he says. Some part of you thinks he just wants them to grow up quicker so he doesn’t have to take care of them anymore, but there’s always those special little moments.

“How about I teach you how to drive the truck?” Matt asks, walking back home with the family.

“He’s eleven.” You remark.

“Is that a problem?”

He’s all about the family business. If his children don’t want to go fishing and logging with him, fine, but if they show even the slightest bit of interest, he’s bought. Matt will be more than eager to show them the ropes. He takes them on camping trips to show them the beauty of the great outdoors, and the humility it takes to be apart of it. The art of it all is there’s no problem that can’t be solved, and even a rugged man like him can be domesticated by the right person.

If his daughter got a boyfriend, he’d be waiting at home with a shotgun. Matt will then play it off like he just got back from a hunting trip. He’s the type to use silent intimidation, and it works like a charm. If not, he’ll tell jerks to get off his lawn even though he doesn’t have one, and when they ask what lawn, he’ll just say “all of it.” What he means is to get out of his sight and the woods, which is the lawn he’s talking about. (Ha!) On the flip side, he’s nice to girls his son brings home.

Losing the spark

Alfred

He has a tendency to let himself go when he gets comfortable. This usually happens when his first kid reaches their teenage years and he can afford to sit back now that they can do their own thing. He’s established a stable family unit, but he takes that for granted and gets a little lazy. As a result, he packs on a few pounds and tries less in the relationship. He’s not as attractive as he used to be, and you’re having more petty arguments.

“Why do I feel like you hate me?” He watches you mop the kitchen after you told him to do it. Only he delayed it to sit around on his phone and eat crisps. Even then, he still has the nerve to be upset about it.

“I don’t hate you, I’m just annoyed at you.”

“But you’re annoyed with me everyday.”

Allen

Losing the spark? Not on his watch! He never stops trying, ever, and keeps chasing you like when he first started dating you. His stability doesn’t come from money, it comes from you. You’re his rock, and nothing else matters so long as you’re here. He’s the epitome of ‘you know how daddy is about mommy,’ and he’s proud of it. He also takes great care of his body, and with his good genes, he practically ages backwards.

“You better wear that button-down shirt tonight, Al. A tank top isn’t gonna cut it,” You tell him.

“You callin’ me a deadbeat?” He questions.

“No, but you dress like one.”

“I thought you liked my clothes, babe.”

“I do, but the teachers won’t.”

“True that.” He fixes his collar in front of a mirror. He peers at his reflection, marveling at how well he cleaned up. A dress shirt and belt? He’s practically unrecognizable — until he grins, that is. “Still got it.”

Mathias

He’s always gonna be young at heart, so his spirit never dies. His love for you is as constant as a river, and he’s not afraid of putting on a show for the kids to the point they get a little disgusted. (Ew!) He doesn’t think he’d ever be too old for romance, and his good faith shows up in how gracefully he ages. He might occasionally grow out a thick beard, and when he shaves it off, he looks devastating close to when he was younger.

“Are we ever gonna be alone again?” He mumbles, pouting. His thirtieth birthday is coming up, but he hasn’t changed a bit, save for the more pronounced smile lines around his mouth. “I need some love too.”

“We will, Mat. I just don’t feel comfortable leaving the baby alone right now,” You shake your head.

“We could call Amy and have a date night.”

“I don’t know, Mat.”

“I’ll shave off my beard.”

“Huh?”

“You wouldn’t say no to me without a beard.”

Matt

The longer he’s with you, the harder he loves. His feelings don’t change when things get hard, or as time passes. They just get stronger. In that same breath, he also ages like wine. In the end, he ends up being the bigger romantic. He used to be a lone wolf, and he thought he was okay with it, but now that he has you, he can’t imagine his life without you. To think you actually stuck around and gave him a chance, he’ll never forget that.

“Wanna go back inside and do it?” He mutters.

“You’re disgusting, Matt.” You walk inside without sparing him a single glance. No matter how old he gets, he’ll always have a mouth on him. No matter how old you get, you’ll always forgive him for it.

“Is that a no?”

“Make me dinner and let me think about it.”

“Deal.”

[lets-try-some-writing]

Transformers One: My Thoughts and Critiques

Note: This is going to be a very long read, so be prepared.

Before I begin my thoughts on the film, allow me to state beforehand that I will be looking at this film as a standalone film first and foremost. I will not be considering the fact that it is meant to be part of a trilogy until the end of my assessment because a good piece of media should be capable of standing on its own. With that said, minor allowances will be made because of this fact.

Additionally, I will not be applying any other continuity lore to this film review in order to limit my continuity bias (although I will make frequent comparisons). Please note that these are my thoughts and opinions and the fact that I even bothered to write more than a two sentence 'it sucked' with a wail of anguish tacked on means that the film has value. I am merely picky. Obviously, this will have a heavy does of my personal takes thrown in along with genuine analysis, so don't take my assessment as gospel.

From this point onwards, spoilers will be present. Read at your own risk.

The Good

(Me trying really really hard to not accidentally be negative.)

The visuals for Transformers One are, of course, stunning, and the voice acting, as a general rule, is very on point. Chris Hemsworth as Orion Pax and later, Optimus Prime, was a decent decision. I like his voice as Orion, but regarding Optimus? I have opinions that will be discussed later. But for the time being, his voice as Orion gives the character life, emotion, and a great deal of ethos. He's likable and interesting, giving him depth that we have not seen in any other Orion Pax since G1.

Megatron's voice actor was also incredibly well picked. The emotion and tone in his voice was undeniable and gave D-16, and later Megatron, such enthusiasm and vibrancy that I (and likely much of the audience) couldn't help but feel for him in many of his interactions and speeches. I loved hearing how his voice evolved as he went, slowly becoming more aggressive and deep. Elita-One was a reasonable pick when it came to voice actor. She certainly had tone and opinions. Bumblebee's voice actor was very entertaining when it came to giving the character development. Having Bumblebee with such a enthusiastic voice actor made him into someone who had far more depth than he likely would have otherwise.

Sentinel's voice actor was golden. He comes off just the way the movie needs him to be, and it is done quite tastefully, although it certainly doesn't break any molds when it comes to the cliche evil character arc. I adored Airachnid's voice acting. It fit her well and was a polite, but well earned shift from the snootiness seen in other continuities. She automatically has more depth simply because of her voice.

The worldbuilding for Transformers One was well done considering the time limits of the film and the focus that had to be given to other subject matters. There are many issues of course, but overall I cannot fault a single film for not having the length and depth of something like Prime or the IDW comics. The flora and fauna showcased were bright, and at least in the case of the flora, quite diverse. The designs for the few creatures showcased were interesting but not overwhelming, especially for the Quintessons. The shift from inorganic to organic was clear as day with their presence, and highlighted the love and care put into every single frame of the film. It was clear that there was real love shown to each character, movement, and scene. For once, the creators seemed to genuinely care about what they were doing.

The fight scenes were stunning. They flowed incredibly well and made excellent use of the environment and the biological aspects of fighters. The use of partial transformation and transformation in general was something I have never seen given such emphasis in a Transformers film or cartoon, not since Prime at any rate. It was done perfectly in my opinion, and showed an actual understanding of how the characters should move and likely would move in various combat situations.

Onto the actual film. The movie hops right into the action and we, the audience, are given a fantastic view into who Orion Pax is as a character. We see his longing to be something greater right off the bat, giving new fans a solid start for his character. Old fans are also given a nod to various continuities with his character design and his overall knowledge and interest in the archives tied with his station as a miner.

The design of Iacon was a fascinating shift from other continuities, that with everything being underground. And D-16's introduction was well integrated into the scene. His and Orion's friendship is masterfully done, and their interaction on the train gives amazing hints into their past, potential history, and creates interesting lore for an audience to ponder. Their relationship is by far one of the most important and intricate parts of the film. It is a masterclass in setting up a relationship prior to a film or story actually shoving two characters into a setting where more of their traits are showcased. Honestly, we can see so much about both of them from that first scene.

D-16 bailing Orion out of trouble quietly like its normal. Orion going through all the effort to give his friend something of value that is both personal and has money attached. Banter that showcases their depth and rich relationship that also flows smoothly and naturally, like old friends should. We get to see how Megatron will come into being through his adoration of Sentinel Prime and Megatronus Prime. His youthfulness combined with Orion's desire to see and experience everything brings out the best in both characters, giving them reason to be together and to get along.

I will never stop giving my praise for that first scene with D-16 and Orion since it was so tastefully done.

Their work in the mines is well directed and the introduction of Elita is... a thing. (thoughts later)

The lore presented in the mining operations is ingenious as it showcases both Cybertron's situation, lays the groundwork for the knowledge characters possess later in the film, and overall shows D-16 and Orion's hesitant heroism (at least on D-16's part) when they save Jazz from certain death. In some cases, the introduction of new information is masterfully done through the use of referencing demotions and promotions in a manner that applied to the situation in question. The lore regarding energon and the overall loyalty of the miners also demonstrates much of the mindset Cybertron is operating under and is done quite well, as seen with the cogless bots being totally fine with their lack of transformation ability for the most part.

Brilliantly done pre-set mindsets. Especially showcased with Sentinel's message to the cogless leaving them all in sheer awe and cheer. I could sense the villain a hundred yards away, but I could tell that the characters believed what they were hearing, and that in my opinion is a show of how well presented the mindsets of the characters and overall view of the society are.

The race was fun to watch, with plenty of spectacle. Orion and D-16's conversation pre-race showed more of their character and D-16's adherence to the rules vs Orion's desire for something more. Orion leading them through back roads into the race also added more depth to Orion's character which I adored (and was unfortunately underutilized). I appreciated the tricks pulled by Orion and D-16 to win. I also adored the brotherhood shown between them, especially how Orion went through the effort of giving D-16 his chance to be a hero, even if D-16 was hesitant. Their brotherhood in the beginning of the film was honestly one of the best highlights, and distracted me from many other things that I will discuss later that were less than optimal.

I loved seeing how excited D-16 was toward the end of the race, and of course how Orion stopped to help him. Their banter in what I assume was the medical bay was also enjoyable and laid further groundwork for D-16's character.

The scene with Sentinel congratulating D-16 and Orion Pax was suitably filled with awe and stiltedness in equal measure. It played well and showed D-16's character as well as Orion Pax's passion and drive. One thing I will not fault the film for is Orion's devotion to his goals. They were clear and remained so from the get-go along with D-16 admiration (right up until the fifty minute mark).

The meeting with B-127 was unique, and an interesting show into the madness that forms in those who are condemned to the bottom rungs of society, even though it was played for laughs. The introduction of the main plot device was something I have critiques regarding. Although, with that said, D-16 and B-127's reasonings for going were both done pretty well. I like how D-16's reason played off his character and previous history with Orion. Again, the brotherhood between them is key in this film.

The logical leap to get onto the trains was well done and also set up essential plot devices for later. Elita's presence was odd, but whatever.

The fight scene on the train and the rush to stop Elita from telling on all of them was well played for the most part. Her anger made sense and her snark didn't exactly come from nowhere. Her taking of the map made reasonable sense (although I have opinions). B-127 is vaguely humorous at times during their journey, which I can appreciate in small doses. (His cave comment got a vague chuckle out of me.)

The introduction of the Quintessons was well placed in light of the future scene with Sentinel. I loved our main characters maneuvering to avoid detection as it showed their cooperation as a team for the most part. Orion's knowledge of the Quintessons made sense in light of the very first scene in the film (again, it was an excellent start to the movie and laid a lot of groundwork).

There were a few scenes in this film that really kicked me in the feels, and the moment the group enter the cave and find the bodies of the dead Primes is one of those moments. The scene is solemn, not a hint of snark or banter to be found. Everyone is lamenting, thinking. The atmosphere was perfect, and the sheer emotion from D-16 in particular was delightful in its own quiet way. The way he sat before Megatronus Prime was emotional. For once in the rapid fire mess that is TF One, time was taken to let everything sink in. You can see a quiet shift in him, and in Orion there is something that makes the audience note how lost he appears. Elita and B-127 only added to the scene as their usual lines died off, letting the scene simply breathe. It was, in my opinion, very well done. Especially with the music running softly in the background.

Their worldview was shattered in that cave, and I adored seeing it play out.

Alpha Trion's character was done well, very well considering how short of a chance he had to be on screen. He showed proper confusion, but then moved along once he noted the situation. There are things I would change obviously, but his character played its part, and I appreciated how he got to the point and limited his cryptic behavior to an extent. He seemed tired, as he should have. His death was also well timed and I appreciated how much the movie wasn't afraid to straight up off a titular character in other continuities. The scene with the T-cog distribution was also a delight to watch. The animation was very clean and it gave me a whole lot to ponder biology wise.

I must say Sentinel's interaction with the Quintessons was, quite frankly, not surprising. But it did convey its point well. I like watching this noble looking character finally drop his façade fully, bowing before invaders and shocking our main cast (even if the audience could see this coming from two seconds into the film).

D-16 and Orion's first argument hit me in the feels, mainly because I really did understand D-16 far more than I did Orion. He was angry, he wanted justice, and above all else, he looked lost. I was simply enthralled with the way his character started to shift and change, going from passive to aggressive in response to rapid fire hits to his worldview, ultimately leading to a perfectly reasonable bot shattering under the pressure.

Alpha Trion offering the group T-cogs from the Primes was interesting and left me with many worldbuilding related questions. The scene where the group first transform was fun. I liked how the characters were given a chance to show their inexperience and struggles. Disregarding the comedy, it made perfect sense for bots who'd never once transformed to have to learn to do it all from scratch, trial and error. It was fun, especially D-16's leg being stuck halfway into turning into treads.

From here my praise is a bit more limited, but I enjoyed seeing D-16 flex his authority and get his group in line. I appreciated the moment of tension between him and Orion, showing the conflict brewing and yet the lingering brotherhood that had not yet cracked. It was delightful to see the war going on inside D-16 in that moment, the hesitancy and the care for his best friend buried under newfound rage and betrayal. Orion later doing his best to try and check up on D-16 was a delightful touch that only further cemented their struggling companionship as the film progressed.

Seeing Starscream was fun. Shockwave's voice was a nice addition and the extra emotion I find was a bonus. Also Soundwave with unique abilities. Nice.

D-16 beating the ever living snot out of Starscream was fun on its own, at least without considering the context and pacing. I enjoyed Starscream's character and the change to his usual cowardly behavior was, in my opinion, well earned and much needed (at least so early on in this new continuity). Orion's growing confusion and uncertainty was a lovely touch. I also adored how he stepped in, bringing D-16 back to reality long enough for him to spare Starscream and make his declaration.

Just going to throw this in here. Sentinel Prime is peak evil and I loved how cruel he was throughout the entire film. He oozed snooty and evil billionaire. The entire scene with him slaughtering Alpha Trion like some sort of hound, his dialogue, and later his insults toward D-16 were just *chef's kiss*. Him carving Megatronus's symbol onto D-16's chest was downright evil and served to further prove just how terrible he was. It was a great scene with very solid dialogue. Honestly, despite how evil he was, Sentinel was one of my favorite characters simply because he was consistent and his dialogue was very well done without any severe stilted moments right up until the end.

Not much to say about the D-16 capture and the Orion & Elita-One pep talk scene. It happened. More thoughts in The Bad section.

Additionally, D-16 staring death in the face was brilliant. I loved seeing his sheer defiance, and the way he met his potential end with honor even when B-127 was willing to stay down. It spoke so much of his character and his development since the beginning of the film. He went from wanting to hide from fights to actively standing up for his rights.

Orion talking to all the miners was, in theory, and probably on paper, a fantastic scene. It wasn't as grand as it could have been, but I really appreciated the size difference between him and the others combined with his attempts to rally them. His speech was moving and I could see his comradery with his fellows the spark of Optimus Prime within him. I loved seeing him rally his troops, encouraging his people to stand and fight. The miners being all so small really did wonders for the scene though. I know I already referenced the size difference, but seeing all these cogless bots look up in awe did something wonderful, especially with the lighting.

The revelation of the truth was downright brutal. It wasn't done as well as it could have been, but I appreciated it all the same, even if it gave off "I'd kidnap a thousand children before I let this company die!" vibes. (Thank you, Monsters Inc).

D-16 fighting Sentinel and then the subsequent attempt on Orion's part to calm him down was... painful (in a good way). I knew it was coming, I could smell it a mile away, but I honestly hadn't expected the scene to play out as it had. Orion trying to stop D-16 once was expected. Him trying again and getting hit was very him, and very powerful with D-16's response thrown in. Seeing the anger that had been brewing in D-16 fade for a moment to instead be replaced by guilt and grief for a precious second brought me nothing but sheer joy. It was such a turning point for the character, especially when the disbelief in his tone hit. D-16 holding onto Orion while on the verge of breaking down, warring with himself, and then deciding to let Orion fall?

Beautiful.

In that moment, we got to see D-16 metaphorically die alongside Orion Pax, breaking their brotherhood so that Megatron could rise from the ashes and try to bring down everything that led to their paths crossing and ultimately diverging. Honestly, I would have paid good money for an alternate ending where Orion died and stayed dead for a while longer, specifically so that Megatron could have a chance to grieve and contemplate. There was just so much going on in that scene with the music, the loss, and the tension that made it a fantastic visual.

The whole comparison between Orion and D-16 as they changed and morphed was a wonderful thing to witness. I enjoyed Megatron's birth a bit more than I did Optimus's, but that was largely because as Orion approached Primus's core, I personally would have adjusted a few small things to keep the dramatics in place. Megatron's birth however was truly stunning, showcasing his strength, his rage, and his passion all in a few short scenes. The music was phenomenal and only made it all the grander. His speech was simply perfection and I have absolutely no complaints. The concept of Megatron was rightfully embodied there and I was all but squealing in excitement when he made his declaration.

Optimus and Megatron's battle was amazingly done. The fighting and the use of weapons and transformation was spectacular and I have exactly zero complaints regarding the fight scene on its own. Optimus then banishing Megatron from Iacon had its own set of feelings, although, there are things I would change.

Bumblebee's line at the end of the movie was actually funny. It got a very solid chuckle out of me.

The flashback was adorable. I loved seeing the contrast between the bot who D-16 was, versus what he became. A brilliant scene, albeit a tad out of place in my opinion.

I have exactly nothing good to say about the last few sequences of the film. But I will say that Megatron is forever awesome.

With all that said, the music for the movie was phenomenal and made scenes that otherwise would have been simply moving into heart wrenching moments of awe. The Fall is by far my favorite simply because of all the emotional tracks in it. Every time I listen, I see that pivotal scene play out in my mind. Megatron and Optimus's birth, so perfectly contrasted and the emotion played out spectacularly. It's been days since I watched the film, and the emotional value of the music hasn't worn off in the slightest.

The Bad

(Aka, my rant combined with actual critiques)

Oh boy here we go.

Orion is just off. As a character, there's something off about him. He's perfectly acceptable on his own, but there is a lack of substance to him that makes it difficult to find him compelling at times. We never really know why he even gives a crap about the things he does. He just cares about the Matrix and becoming greater because of... reasons. There's no basis for his interests, not like D-16 who expressed in dialogue and actions why he cared about the things he did. He loved Sentinel because Sentinel "saved" them. He loved Megatronus Prime because he was the "strongest Prime who ever lived". Orion's reasoning for caring about the Matrix and freedom in general amounted to wanting to help Sentinel. I mean, it made sense, but it wasn't particularly fulfilling for his character, especially when the rest of the population was perfectly fine with their situations for the most part.

There needs to be reasoning. What happened to him to have him break the mold and try to act out? Why did he break it at all? Orion is obviously an outlier in mentality, and therefore he should have at least been given a single line of dialogue with D-16 to explain his interest, (excluding his declaration of wanting to help Sentinel find the Matrix. That is a mere statement and it didn't give me much of anything to understand why he cared since he wasn't as devoted as D-16). This issue follows him throughout the whole film. He's a bit of a shell at times, although it could have been due to the way his dialogue hit. This lack of foundation for his character made it difficult for me to really feel for him like I did with D-16. When D-16 got angry, I was on his side because I understood where he was coming from. But with Orion? He was always just... there. He expressed emotion and I loved seeing how he shifted, but his growth didn't match the pace the movie set, leaving him in the dust a bit.

It weakened his character drastically.

His voice is also a tad... bland. No offence to Hemsworth, but I just don't think he managed to capture Orion like Brian Tyree Henry managed to get D-16 and Megatron. Orion had his moments, and those moments were spectacular, but his speeches never had any of the depth of Peter Cullen's Optimus or the youth of TFA's Optimus. He lacked something distinctive to set him apart. He tended to sound somewhat blank in certain scenes, almost like Hemsworth had only just been given the script (or was still attempting to be Thor). It was especially bad when Orion becomes Optimus Prime. Where Hemsworth did an arguably fantastic job as Orion, his voice simply didn't fit Optimus. Am I biased because I enjoy Peter Cullen more? Yes. But also, Optimus is a mech meant to show power.

He needed a deeper voice desperately, something that would rattle and have the tone of a true commander, demanding respect even when he's being gentle. Hemsworth was a fine Orion Pax, but Optimus needed to change and become something more in my opinion. They didn't even have to change voice actor if Hemsworth could pull off a bit of range like Brian Tyree Henry did with D-16 and Megatron.

No complaints about D-16's introduction.

Back to the film. The sheer amount of background Easter eggs was fun right up until I started seeing far too many familiar faces in the same place. The world of Transformers One, unfortunately, feels incredibly small. We see Iacon and we see the cogless and Sentinel's servants, but nothing else is really there. It's a strange emptiness. I can tell the film creators were trying to fill the void, but we never got the chance to see those who did more than just mine. Where's the middle ranks? Who is running everything else? Why is every single Autobot a miner? There should at least be a few middle rank bots wandering around. We did see scenes with random civilians at the end, but I would have liked to see a greater range of work involved in Iacon. Even just a medic would have been great. If those things don't exist, then how does the city operate? Where the heck are the other cities? Is there a council of some sort? How is Sentinel running literally everything without an inner circle? We only ever see Arachnid after all.

Honestly, a tad more variety is what we needed. Not to say the variety we got was terrible, but seeing a medic, a random vendor, or even a military drill sergeant in the background would have done wonders I think.

Additionally, there should not be so many familiar bots all in one place. I know this is a new continuity, but it feels weird because there is no way every single big Autobot just happens to come from Iacon because they were ALL cogless miners. If that is the case, that destroys so much depth it's not even funny. I mean, the continuity can do what it wants since its new and has its own lore, but I suppose its a bit of a let down if everyone shares the exact same origin. Additionally, the voice acting for most background characters was... fine. Some scenes were fantastic, like the race where everyone rushes to see the miners on screen. But the movie could have greatly benefited from a few more unique and passionate voices. I wanted to see true anger, REAL heartbreak at the lies that had been fed to the cogless. This is more petty than anything else, but a few more voices and a bit more depth would have been fantastic.

It's only made worse by the fact that the entire film just feels tiny compared to the scale its operating on. One city, one mining area, one train, one open field, one race track, one abandoned base, one rebellion base, and a cave. Sounds good on paper, right? Lots of room to move. But we never see anything about any other part of the world. Not even a mention or a poster on the wall for a different city. It made everything so much smaller and more controlled. That's not necessarily a bad thing film wise, but giving artificial depth through background characters and whatnot would have been great. Even just some chatter from background characters would have served this purpose. Think about Star Wars or Lord of the Rings. Both movies referenced planets and places that came into play later far before they actually showed up, and in only one or two lines. TF One needed such dialogue if it wanted to establish the scale of the world. Unfortunately, we didn't get that.

The first mining scene in the movie agitated me on a spiritual level. Not necessarily because it was bad. I found the actual operation of the scene very interesting, especially seeing how Cybertron reacts to the mining and how the bots go about getting energon. It was downright fascinating watching the trained and trialed methods the crew used to get in, do their mining, and get out. Jazz was hilarious. However, Elita-One murdered the mood for me.

Elita is... an interesting case. I will just say it outright. She serves no purpose within the film that actually means anything. And this fatal flaw reflects horribly on her character. On her own, a bit of snark and anger over her situation and even the arrogance would be good character flaws for her to work past, but combined with her place in the film, it made her nothing short of grating. Every scene she did anything more than fight or offer reasonable commentary was a slow torture for me. There was nothing to give me a reason to like her. She's an arrogant bot who thinks she knows and can do everything, and that bothers me. If there was something for her to have to go through to work past those flaws, then I could appreciate it. But she maintained her poor disposition throughout the entire film with little to no outward changes. It was a wasted character and an arc that was never even given a chance to exist.

With that said, every time Elita turned up and started getting talkative I died a little inside. I am prepared to be crucified for that take.

Elita's attitude after Orion and D-16 saved Jazz was just the worst. Even though I understood her take, she still bothered me with her rudeness. She's a very selfish character if you really look at her, and it shows. Her voice acting wasn't bad, although there were a few repeat lines that got stale fast.

The Iacon race was a fun concept, but Orion's character was again left to exist in a vacuum when he took D-16 to the race. Evidently, Orion knows a crap ton about the underground and travelling discreetly. This skill is never seen again. Nor is his knowledge of travelling quietly on his own ever mentioned after this scene, to my knowledge at any rate. Whatever the case, he was given a hint of lore and then left to go be rebellious for reasons we still do not have a solid foundation for. Honestly, I understood D-16 far more than I did Orion and I think that's a problem in a film meant to be their origin.

I have no real complaints about the actual race. The scene with Sentinel had nothing for me to comment on negatively.

Bumblebee is again, another character who holds little use in the film. I understand WHY he was put in (fanservice and all that), but the way he was implemented was very poor. There were far better ways to incorporate him into the story and actually make him important and telling. Instead, he's just a chatterbox there for jokes and one liners. He's far less agitating than Elita though because at least he has vague chemistry with our main protagonists. Also, B-127's whole nickname sequence should have been cut, or at least sidelined a bit. It really wasn't that funny, and if the crew were trying to show how isolation has gotten to him, the whole fake friends part got that across quite well.

The plot device was ridiculous. Not necessarily in its existence, but in its implementation. You want to have a SOS message from Trion to be the key? Cool. DON'T put it in the actual trash in the most obscure place on Cybertron. The fact that the bloody message survived is a miracle and quite frankly, it felt contrived. There were far better ways to implement the message. Think about Stars Wars and R2D2. Personally, I would have been privy to a bit of War for Cybertron coming into play, or possibly Smokescreen from Prime. That way Bee could actually be useful while still offering the crew their plot device. That said, it wasn't the worst thing and with a bit of grace, it is not a major sin.

The train scene with Elita was actually painful to watch. I despise her so much, and she just made the whole thing agony to get through. I skipped through her kicking the guys around like boyscouts because it was not appealing in the slightest. (I do understand some people like her, but I am not one of them and this is where my bias shows most.)

No complaints about their stint on the roof of the train.

Elita's entire scene on the ground where she gets in Orion's face made me want to strangle her. I can understand her reasoning, but she's so frickin annoying that I simply could not care about her in the slightest. Her lines might have even been funny if she hadn't been such a poorly done character.

Why does she get the map??? Why??? She isn't even meant to BE there??? Orion, why are you letting her walk all over you??? That's your evidence! You can't even trust her! Let D-16 read the bloody thing. He feels like he has the most braincells out of all of them. I get that they were aiming for girlboss and mom friend vibes combined with Elita, but she's simply agitating and I think it would have been far better for Orion or D-16 to lead the way and show more of their character. Actually, let Orion do it. He snuck into the archives all the time. He's a perfect fit for the role and would have given him the chance to show off that foundation that he lacked throughout the entire movie. If they REALLY needed Elita, they could have used the chance to build that oh so lovely ship bait for fans by having Elita and Orion have to work together to successfully read the map. After all, Orion knows all the weird underhanded stuff and Elita was a team leader for the miners. Their combined knowledge could have been a bonding moment AND been useful to the plot later to show why they fight together in a reasonable fashion.

Again, Transformers One feels tiny. There was one creature type shown on screen, and I understand animating is a pain, but even just some shifting shadows as the group walked would have been nice. Would have made things feel more alive and artificially expanded. (again, a petty complaint above all else. Maybe Cybertron just doesn't have a ton of animals.)

No complaints about the cave scene.

So... T-cogs can just be taken from the dead? Is that not a health issue? We see later that Megatron taking Megatronus's T-cog changes him further. Does that imply that all four of the crew are now biologically related to the Primes? If those T-cogs aren't rusted to hell and back after fifty cycles and don't give the crew infections later, this has some startling implications. Less of a complaint and more of my confusion. Seriously, are there no prerequisites to have a T-cog when a bot's original one has been removed?? Does this mean that biological offspring can be a thing via passing on a T-cog?

(I have some worrying thoughts about relationships on Cybertron now because of the shift in characteristics for the crew when they got their Prime inherited T-cogs)

Too much exposition from Alpha Trion. It fit the scene certainly, but the whole film had a running problem of mouthing off and throwing exposition around like candy. It was not done particularly tastefully 90% of the time. In fact, the only exposition that I liked was from D-16 and B-127 because it felt natural for them to explain things as they did. Trion's was cool certainly, and honestly if Orion's first exposition in the archive and then Trion's were the only dumps, I would have been quite happy.

I can't believe the Primes fell as easily as they did. I understand they were ambushed. But how on earth did Sentinel manage to personally cut down several of them when, up until that point, Alpha Trion said they were winning? One sneak attack is understandable, but the rest was a bit unbelievable. Especially Megatronus Prime.

Why is everyone suddenly so chill with killing? I mean D-16 just shot someone to DEATH despite having never raised a hand to pretty much anyone with intent to kill up until that point. Is this a society thing? Cultural? (I am not talking about Orion here. He's a sunflower compared to B-127 and everyone else going off and chopping enemies to bits)

Regarding D-16's arc, it was rapid fire from this point onward. I can see what they were aiming for, but there was a distinct lack of anything to really cause him to fall as far and as fast as he did. Actually, allow me to rephrase. Rather it was that he HAD reason, it was simply too fast paced of a film for me to feel his change and truly cement it in my soul. It stuck and it most certainly made sense, but it was a bit like whiplash when he chose to let Orion fall to his death despite them having gotten along up until that point for the most part.

Orion is an idiot as well. He spent all of D-16's rapid fall into warlording staring at his best friend like a confused goldfish. He did very little to step in aside from try to ask if D-16 was alright and stopping him from killing Starscream. Yes, D-16 was captured and there wasn't a lot of time to do therapy. Yes, the rapid character change occurred literally over the course of like, a day and change, so I can't fully blame Orion. And do I understand why he was so hesitant? Yes of course. The change was super fast. Do I also understand how and why D-16 fell? Absolutely yes. Were both of these characters rushed? Abso-frickin-lutely. The foundations were there and they were fantastic. They just had to be roller coastered to their completion without any regard for the emotional value of pacing their respective shifts away from their previously shared goal.

I do not truly blame the film creators for the rush, but it does kill a lot of the emotional impact that would have come if we'd been given more time to see D-16 and Orion have more and more arguments over increasingly difficult moral decisions.

Starscream and the High Guard are stupid. They are a fantastic concept on paper, but much like half the cast, their implementation was poor in the extreme. They came from nowhere, were exposition dumped into existence, and promptly followed the rando who beat the snot out of Starscream and could have, for all they knew, been an actual spy. For some of the best trained bots on the planet, there was not a single braincell amongst them.

Starscream had so much potential too. But that vanished into smoke twenty seconds into his face getting bashed in. Soundwave looks like a taco. And he acts like one with his lack of substance character wise. Shockwave was neat right up until he got wrapped up into the stupid gag with B-127. It's a dumb joke and it destroyed whatever seriousness was building. Like come on guys, we are at the one hour mark. It's time to get serious or go home. Again, aren't these the High Guard???? Very important very well trained bots??? Why are they acting like savages and petty children? We at least need explanation for that if we are rolling under that rule. They needed more depth desperately. As it stands, they were nothing more than free guns for D-16 to yoink for future movies.

Also, again, Orion the goldfish. Standing there all confused without doing a bloody thing about it. He's so passive in this movie and it infuriates me because it feels like his character arc never picked up the pace like D-16's did at the hour mark. I understand he's going through a lot and watching his bro fall is likely a bit shock to the system, but one would think with how close they are that Orion of all bots would be the one to try and humble his brother in arms. (I am aware he did his best with what time he had, but still). I know that if one of my siblings decided to go all murder hobo on me I would be the first to get up there and throw a shoe at their head. Once more, I do understand that Orion was likely in shock, but due to the pacing of the film, he feels a bit like stale bread right up until he's literally shot.

Neat, a fight scene. D-16 is captured, ooooh that could be interesting- aaaaaaaand there's Elita being the worst again. Great pep talk. Fantastic even. Now I hate her even more because all I am getting is sheer arrogance and not even in a humorous way like Knockout from TFP. Good heavens Elita sucks.

"We won't follow you." *Elita exists* "wE wiLl fOLLoW yOu" - Frag ALL the way off with this garbage. High Guard indeed. High on drugs and low on self-esteem. Elita has done NOTHING to prove herself worthy of being followed, or Orion for that matter. It would make far more sense for the High Guard to just be pissed off and opt to go fight Sentinel on their own since they've lost their new leader and a ton of their troops all in one raid. It would have been majestic for them to straight up decide now or never and lead a charge, and then have Elita and Orion join them with unexpected troops in the form of the cogless.

Again, aren't these guys meant to be the High Guard? Why can't they get into their own city? Surely they have contacts or old knowledge? Actually, why can't Orion bargain his way into their ranks using his knowledge of all things underhanded in Iacon? It would have been a great callback to his scene getting himself and D-16 into the race. I know they sort of went that route by having Elita get everyone in while Orion went to fetch the cogless, but it would have been way more interesting to see them working together in a logical manner and planning their attack. I know there were time constraints, but that doesn't mean they couldn't have worked together for a short period of time and shown either the brutality of the High Guard or their similarities in regards to goals and ideals.

The scene with Orion addressing the cogless was certainly stunning, but it needed more. Emphasis, tone, lighting, music. I think it needed something just a touch grander. Not too much mind you. Orion needed to have come back with a new aura around him, something to really make him stand out aside from his newfound height. This is his dawning moment after all, his first spark of Optimus Prime. If he'd spent some time scheming with the High Guard, maybe he could have had an air of a fledgling soldier, just bloodied and ready for battle. He did punch Darkwing, and that certainly helped, so I will give him a pass in this regard. His speech still would have meant more if he'd been a bit grittier and yet still kind, especially contrasting D-16 who took one life and then never stopped doing that. His compassion was a nice touch, as well as his relatability to his fellows, but there had to be that hint of something more commanding. He had the inklings and I appreciated his first real speech, but the rallying cry was, in my opinion, a tad off. It could have been due to the voice acting. (Seriously though I did love this scene, I just have itty bitty suggestions regarding how it could have been better. And Orion made a funny face halfway through his big pep talk so there's that).

The background character voice acting didn't show quite enough confusion or awe for me to really be sold on the scene. I would have preferred something more akin to the TFP scene where the kids are introduced to Optimus. Shock, awe, excitement, a hint of fear. Those things were present of course, and I understand the miners were tired from doing their million and a half shifts. But a bit more could have been done. More background chatter essentially.

No complaints about the Sentinel and D-16 interaction.

The battle scene was well done, all of them. The Arachnid thing worked, but the big reveal of the truth did absolutely feel torn right off of 'cliche villain downfall bingo'. I would have liked something a tad more original. Just a bit. But it did get the point across well enough so I can't really be upset.

Again with the background characters. It wasn't bad, but where's the RAGE?!? Where is the sheer chaos? It was emphasized later with the battle, but I think that scene with the big reveal needed a bit more violence so show just how unruly the population ended up. It could also make it clear why so many would eventually choose to join Megatron. Give me ONE guy with a Molotov cocktail throwing it at a statue of Sentinel or something. Why not have some of the cogless start attacking their superiors as well as Sentinel's servants, just to show the sheer destruction going on? Please, it would have been delightful and only have taken up like, five second of screen time MAX.

No real complaints about the scene with Orion, D-16, and Sentinel. It was still fast paced, and Orion still felt a bit like a goldfish, but overall the scene was perfect. The pacing is all that made it feel somewhat off.

The birth of Megatron was perfect. Zero complaints.

Once Orion reached Primus's core, the birth of Optimus gave off "Meeeeeeeegatrooooooooon~" vibes from the TFP Movie (Thank you Unicron. Love the voice acting man). Alpha Trion's voice was not doing it for me. It made a grand moment rather cheesy. Personally I think Orion needed whispers, echoes and flashbacks to go along with D-16's increasing violence and declaration. It would have been the perfect time to throw that flashback from the closing part of the film in. Let Orion see a ton of rapid images of him and D-16 along with increasingly loud whispers from all the Primes, cumulating in "Arise, Optimus Prime." Maybe even chuck in visions of the dead Primes, showing bits of their lives as a way to nod to the knowledge contained within the Matrix (if this continuity is going that route anyway. If nothing else, it would look cool and allow each Prime to meet Optimus in a natural manner during his creation). Additionally, that way Optimus can maintain a hint of mysteriousness but also grandeur.

Optimus flying up to the surface like superman.

I get what they were going for, but it was a tiny bit silly. I think it would have been grander for Optimus to have taken a bit longer returning, simply so that he could have the very earth part for him Moses style. I am not entirely sure. There isn't really a right way to fix this scene in light of the time constraints, and frankly the sonic shoot up to the surface did look cool and served its dramatic entrance purpose. I don't necessarily dislike it, but given the opportunity, I would have gone a slightly different route.

No commentary on the battle. It was perfect.

Again, Megatron's character arc was seriously rushed. He needed far more time. I adore him in TF One. He's quite literally the best character in there. But everything leading up to his final moment was rushed and it left me feeling unsatisfied at the end. There was plenty of foreshadowing in small ways, but those didn't start happening until the hour mark, give or take. Also, Optimus banishing Megatron from Iacon?? Why just Iacon??? Where the heck are the other cities?? Do they exist?? I'm spitballing but the whole scene felt ever so slightly off. Megatron limping into the distance didn't feel quite right. I honestly think that in exchange for wounding him, Optimus should have gotten a scar somewhere in return as a reminder of his cause. Megatron got Megatronus's face burned onto him. Let Optimus get a similarly noticeable marking, that way both players show a mark of their fallen friendship.

Sidenote: How does ANYONE know how to fight in this film?? Sentinel, the High Guard, and those with T-cogs makes sense. Orion? Sure. He did a lot of rough housing. Elita? Maybe. Hard to tell with her limited background. But D-16 and B-127? The rest of the cogless? Where did they pick it up? Its a recurring problem. And how does the crew improve so fast? I mean, they know how to fight with their big ol saws from mining, but we don't get to see in anyone except Orion so its hard to believe anything. We are never given a solid time period between the journey to the surface and then back down again, and really I think some of that travel time should have been spent with the group sparring or otherwise bantering about their backgrounds to lay the groundwork for their skillsets.

Regarding the final scene of the film, its really bad. Painfully bad.

(I would like to throw Elita off the nearest structure thank you.)

I get that they are laying the groundwork for more movies, but the flashback was quite forced. It was cute and absolutely had a place in the film somewhere, but not right there. It didn't feel quite right, or at least not with how it was edged into. The narration was just... weird, to me at any rate. The T-cogs being distributed was cool, certainly. But it raises many questions about the logic of it all. It feels dues ex machina. Not in a good way either. Not saying it wasn't cool, but it did feel forced. Like a participation trophy. I would have loved to see the cogless remaining that way and having to collect cogs from wherever Sentinel stored them, or otherwise take them from the fallen. That way they could have more diversity going forward.

That whole ending bit with Optimus and the Autobots running into the sunset was stupid. There is no other way to describe it. The scene gave nothing to the film and I think it would have been spent far better if we saw Optimus and Megatron both gathering their armies while the Quintessons loomed overhead. Megatron watching his warships be built and then him looking up at the sky. Optimus gathering up the cogless and helping them get their T-cogs via Matrix and then also looking upward. Only to then have it end with the Quintessons looming above.

The Quintessons were so underutilized in TF One it wasn't even funny. I don't even really know why they were there. I mean I understand they had to exist for war reasons and Sentinel and all that. But if they are such a threat, then they need to either be driven off so that the Cybertronian civil war can happen, or they need to make themselves everyone's problem so that Optimus and Megatron's spat looks all the worse for the planet.

There needed to be more for the Quintessons. They needed to have played a bigger role or to have been somehow removed from the playing field by the end of the film. Even one scene with them seeing Sentinel falling and then opting to get the heck out of dodge would have served well enough. But they didn't. And for that reason they are just... there. Letting their prized slaves rebel. They won once against all the Primes. Why not do so again?

Also why do they want the energon??? There are too many questions right now and not even the barest inkling of an answer.

The Characters

(A look into every character of note + my edits to their development in the film.)

Orion Pax/Optimus Prime:

Orion's character is quite well done. He has goals, morals, and a personality that shines in the right environment. His adventurous spirit gives him life, and his desperate desire for something more makes him compelling when he's given the opportunity to really flex his morality muscles. He has a bit of fight in him, an eagerness to improve and assist those around him that makes him lovable and fun. Every moment he was on screen was a delight, and there was never any point where I directly despised his presence. He had moments of greatness, and moments where I would have preferred someone consulted Peter Cullen for advice on scenes where more Optimus was meant to show. His arc was steady, but it didn't move quite fast enough to match the pace D-16 set with his rise (or fall). It was clear Orion was meant go from largely trying to become greater for his own personal reasons to instead fighting for something more than himself. The creators were attempting to broaden him, give him more to fight for and more to lose. They were well on their way to doing that, but Orion's arc simply did not move fast enough, leading him to end up feeling a bit static while D-16 steamrolled ahead.

To adjust him, all I would want to see is for Orion to be shown having a more solid reason for his goals. Instead of just wanting to help, perhaps have him witness a hint of the mess on the surface at some point in his youth. Maybe he could mention it to D-16, saying that when he was newly forged, he either witnessed a record or saw a peek of the surface or perhaps some other Quintesson related thing to get him to feel a degree of investment in trying to help. Maybe he found the surface lovely and wanted to travel there. Maybe he heard legends of the Primes and particularly wanted to see them and make sure that they really had fallen. He either needed to show a level of devotion to the cause to match D-16's love for Sentinel and Megatronus Prime, or he needed to be skeptical. I would have loved to see Orion doubt, simply because no bodies of the Primes were ever recovered and old records did not mention the Matrix passing on (or perhaps he is skeptical in general). Whatever the case, giving Orion this foundational skepticism or believe would have allowed him to be more compelling when the truth was revealed.

Then, to match D-16 character arc, Orion should have started to try and take a commanding position earlier. Perhaps he could feel just as betrayed and angry, but instead of being more passive like in the film, his anger could instead be directed as the Quintessons who allowed things to happen as they did. Maybe Orion could feel loyalty toward his people as a whole, making him want to do things correctly and rally his kind together for the sole purpose of ensuring no other could ever enslave them, directly contrasting D-16 who was off to kill Sentinel for arguably more personal reasons. Making Orion care more about the people as a whole, knowing that they have all suffered under the threat that is the Quintessons, all the while D-16 cared more for his specific group of fellows... yeah it would have been delightful. Just, having Orion focus more on the bigger picture as the movie progressed, leading him to maybe mistreat D-16 a bit in his haste to spread the truth rather than get rid of the source of the problem. This way both Orion and D-16 could be given depth, since arguably, both are right in their approaches.

These are, of course, vague edits. And much like D-16, there isn't a ton I would change for Orion. He just needed more time on screen, and more opportunities to be presented with moral challenge and/or chances to lead.

"The line between friend and enemy is not as clear as I once believed. Once it's crossed, there's no going back, because some transformations, are permanent."

D-16/Megatron:

D-16, and later Megatron, was by far the best developed character in the entire movie. A very good thing considering the film is his origin moreso than anyone else's. He had the most growth to go through, and my goodness he went through it fantastically. He started off somewhat meek, mild tempered, and cheerful. He was a normal bot, one just happy to go about his life and enjoy his few passions as an average civilian. But as the film progressed, his character shifted from one of fun and adventure to anger and betrayal. One lie after another stacked up, slowly breaking down his innocent belief in everything he held dear until he had nothing left to stand on. All he could do was direct his anger at something, lest he lose himself entirely. His reasons were all justified, and you could see the way his morality shifted between "I want him in chains" to "you need to get out of my way, before I move you myself." and it was brilliant. Everything about his arc was well formulated, at least regarding showing his shift in character.

All I would have changed is the rate at which he changed. It was very fast paced. And from what I gather, occurred over the course of maybe a day or two. Crimes of passion are a thing, and some change really does happen that quickly, but D-16 needed at least a few more scenes of moral debate. Perhaps a scene in the beginning where he makes a simple choice that Orion's agrees with and then a very similar scene later where he goes directly against his previous choice. He should have been shown arguing with Orion more as the film progressed, and over more and more serious matters. Perhaps it starts with the map, but as time goes on, it starts edging into who to kill, who to suppress, what path to take in laying siege to Iacon, etc. That way D-16 moral shift can come a bit more naturally when he finally beats the snot out of Starscream and later kills Sentinel with no remorse.

D-16, and later Megatron, is a delightful character. There is very little I would change for him. Above all else, he needed more time on screen to shine, and I think that's the best possible critique there could be for a character.

"The age of Primes has ended. No more false Prophets. Follow me, you will never again be deceived! Rise up!"

Elita-One:

Elita-One is the worst offender in the entire film when it comes to horrible character. Where others lacked personality, she got far too much and absolutely zero development for it. She came in arrogant and came out just as if not more so. Obviously, the creators were aiming for her to be a foil for the boys, trying to make her into a more stable and commanding counterpart to Orion's, and later D-16's, rebellious nature. But her extreme arrogance, snarky attitude, and little to no love for anyone else made her presence grating. There wasn't enough of a relationship between her and the boys for me to see her in a more familial light for them, nor was there enough of an indicator of rivalry for her viciousness to not be annoying in its presentation. She was mean, bitter, and overall a pain throughout the entire film. And while there were reasons for those traits to be presented initially, they were obtrusive and took away from the film since they were never again addressed or given proper conclusion. Elita-One had no character growth, and as such, she leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Her relationship with Orion in particular was agitating. She had a backstory at least, and it did contribute to her character, but it didn't help to differentiate her a ton or warrant her arrogance, unfortunately.

Elita-One needed a reason to be so confident in herself that was visible to the audience, not just her forcing her crew to repeat her greatness. Arrogance can be done well, as seen with Starscream and Knockout in TFP, but Elita's just came off as annoying at the best of times. To adjust her character, I would have pre-established her relationship a bit differently. Instead of aiming to be supervisor, she should have been one already. To make her arrogance less annoying, she should have been shown as being affiliated with Orion before her demotion, perhaps as the one letting him get away with all his shenanigans. That way her arrogance plays off as her bantering and simply noting her station, and maybe she flaunts it around a bit, having Orion do her random favors since she won't go breaking protocol, but she knows he will. Their relationship could be one of mutual benefit, perhaps even hinting at Elita having used Orion's help to achieve her station at some point. That way they can be vaguely affiliated and their power dynamic can be somewhat equal since Orion offers a service and in turn, Elita covers his back when he decides to go and wander off.

If the creators wanted to go the ship baity route, or even just make Orion and Elita closer, it could be a thing where Elita was an old friend of Orion's who simply drifted apart after her rise to supervisor. Instead of being harsh with him during the mining scene, she could offer to speak later. Their entire dynamic could be that of ancient friendship, older than even Orion's and D-16 connection. Maybe they were in training together. Perhaps they were on the same mining crew for a while. Whatever the case, making Elita a bit nicer would go a long way, especially if she attempted to cover for Orion yet again after he broke protocol to save Jazz. She could try to cover for her old friend and be punished for it, making her less willing to help later in the movie when her aid is needed once more. Her character could go through serious growth because of this.

Additionally, if this were to be how her character played out, when she's brought to the surface, her lingering arrogance can be crushed like a grape in the unfamiliar environment. Where she once looked at Orion as a bit of a nuisance due to his habit of going places where he really shouldn't have been, she can now appreciate his skill and support him with her own. Maybe as a former supervisor, she's the only one who can read the map accurately, but for that same reason, she has very little skill in traversing the land and translating old indicators on the coordinates. That's where the boys could step in, helping and offering their skills and in turn showing Elita that while she's not the best and never will be, her skills are valuable when applied correctly, just as her companion's skills are as well. They could play off each other in a more meaningful way, helping Elita develop a healthy relationship with her companions and her ego. By the end of the movie, she could end up a bit more like Skybound or Earthspark Elita-One, confident and competent, but mature enough to know when to let someone else take the lead and when her job should be to play support.

She could even serve as a bit of an echo of Megatron, starting off where he ended. Anger, passion, and of course, arrogance. Then slowly she can learn to mellow a bit and apply herself in a far more productive manner. This could let her relate to D-16 as he starts to crumble, giving her more of a reason to be invested in him since as she improves, he starts to fall to pieces. There are many ways she could be played, but more importantly, she needs to be showed having actual chemistry with her companions and changing as a character into someone more mature. She's not a bad pick for a character, but she needed to be tempered, a lot.

"My point is, that your instincts tell you to break protocol for a reason."

B-127:

B-127 is a character that, on his own, doesn't really have a purpose being in the film at all. He's comedic and does show the beginnings of maturity in more serious moments, like when he and D-16 are captured. However, he lacks substance. He's fun, he's peppy, but it feels like a lot of the basis for his presence hinges on old and new fans recognizing his paintjob and knowing who he will become later down the line. He's a rather shallow character, which is not a necessarily bad trait since Sentinel pulled it off brilliantly. But since he is meant to be a main character in this film, I would have preferred he be given a more solid foundation. His actions are fine, his personality is acceptable, but he needed more to work with, a reason for his behavior if you will (since he can't exactly have a reputation to run with, being on sub-level 50).

I think the best way to have introduced him and given him a foundation would be to foreshadow the sub-levels. Perhaps have it be noted that bots go down a few levels and never come back, unfortunate miners who mess up one too many times. (maybe D-16 reminds Orion of this potential fate). Instead at staring at smelters, B-127 could be introduced as a scavenger. Rather than be down so many levels doing essentially nothing, perhaps show him weaving through discarded rubbish in huge heaps before they can be incinerated, taking bits and pieces that he likes. This way his random assortment of knowledge can make sense. It can explain his madness in a slightly more believable manner. Seriously, if B-127 knew how to get out, why wouldn't he leave at some point to seek out companions? Better it be that he's trapped, and now that he's got new companions, he feels totally fine accepting them and showing off his collection of trinkets since they are all prisoners together. He could state he's been down there for a very very long time, maybe making him the oldest out of the eventual group of four. This would explain why he has the plot device later, and if he shows off more confidential reading/viewing material he's collected, his knowledge base and animalistic fighting style make more sense.

It would give him a foundation as someone more feral, easily surprised, and excitable. It would give him unique skillsets, such as scavenging and self repair. If needed, he could even be the team's makeshift medic. Maybe B-127 could even have a broken T-cog instead of missing it altogether, showing that the practice of removing a cog was imperfect for a time, and since his removal failed, they disposed of him. Yet another hint of what is to come. His introduction scene would be about the same length too, since all that would change is the setting. It would also give all three time to bond since B-127 doesn't know how to escape, but has resources, which would allow D-16 and Orion to put their heads together to get them all out. It would also create a sense of loyalty for B-127, encouraging him to stay with the group. No changes need to be made to B-127's personality, just a shift in scenery.

"Are you serious? This is the greatest day of my life! I get to work for the government!"

Starscream:

Starscream's appearance in this film, much like Elita's presence, served little to no purpose. He existed purely to provide D-16 a chance to exercise his brutality and growing passion for rebellion. However, with what little time he had on screen, he presented an incredibly unique version of the character. Gone was the cowardly behavior seen in almost every single Starscream to have ever been produced. This Starscream appeared to be a highly competent character, willing to fight and die for his cause. He showed determination, energy not seen in any other Starscream. I can't exactly say he was the most intelligent character, a shame considering his station. But the embers of something more that he presented were fascinating, and in my opinion, a delight to witness.

I would have liked to have had his foreshadowed earlier. Personally, I think a great way to have hinted at his presence would have been to make him a bit of a martyr. He could have been blamed for the betrayal of the Primes, with Sentinel pinning their fall on the High Guard and Starscream in particular. That way, he could have been foreshadowed via D-16 absolutely hating him for his "betrayal" and also served to hint at the High Guard's power later. Additionally, if Sentinel made it so the High Guard looked like they'd sold out to the Quintessons, him going to the surface would be even more "Dangerous" since he'd be fighting "traitors". All the more for him to have lied above, and more to keep everyone off the surface.

Bonus if Starscream actively has a warrant out for him, as evidenced perhaps by chatter from background characters or maybe even Darkwing calling D-16 and Orion Pax "High Guard/Starscream sympathizers" for their rambunctious activity. Through this slight shift, Starscream's later appearance could be far more meaningful and make him an ally of note, especially if its mentioned that he and his people have been attacking energon trains for sustenance and to mess with Sentinel. Starscream's intelligence can be shown, as can his former ties to the Primes, all by adding a line or two depicting his presence.

"Two options for you! One, we slowly dismantle each of you one bolt and screw at a time, and really make sure you feel it. Or two, in exchange for a quick death, you give us intel on the energon trails, access to the mines, or anything else that could hurt your Boss, Sentinel Prime."

Soundwave: Soundwave can hardly be called a character in this film. He exists. That's about all he has going for him. He looks like a taco and has all the personality of one, that being none at all. There was so much potential for him, but he got a grand total of perhaps three lines before he became background noise. Jazz had more lines than Soundwave. Jazz, the cogless background character. We know nothing about Soundwave except the fact that he's with the High Guard and apparently important enough to have been in the records. No explanations regarding his abilities, no backstory, no reason behind his connections. Nothing. He's a familiar name for old fans to gawk at and does little else.

If Soundwave is going to be in a film, I feel like it is law for him to play at least a semi-important part. Even if I didn't know Soundwave from other continuities, he would still be seen as highly underutilized. Personally, I think he would have done so much better serving as an agent of Sentinel Prime who turned when he learned the truth. He could have been right at Sentinel's side whenever he was in the city, offering reports on other cities and their struggles to obtain energon but ultimately being waved off. This could help with the small setting feeling and give Soundwave character through his hesitance and concern for the rest of the population. It could be fascinating to see Soundwave loyally follow this Prime, despite his concerns, and then be betrayed with the knowledge that his world and his people have been enslaved by the one he thought was their savior. This way, he would have a very valid reason to hate Optimus when he comes into being, and consequently have a reasonable desire to join Megatron.

"Scanning electrical impulses: He speaks the truth."

Shockwave: Thankfully he's less of a taco. Unfortunately, he only has a bit more personality than Soundwave. We also know exactly nothing about him and he suffers from the same problems as Soundwave personality wise. We've got next to nothing to work with, not even a title. He also comes off as a bit of a potato since the very first thing he did when threatened by Elita of all bots was to bend the knee. It does tell us about him, but its not done tastefully and as it stands, Shockwave has the personality of a small child who got his favorite toy stolen from him.

Much like Soundwave, if one is going to use Shockwave, he has to at least have had some sort of impact in the past, if not the present. I would have liked to have seen him possibly have been the one who assisted in removing cogs from the newly forged. It is an essential part of their structure, so I imagine there is a certain degree of delicacy involved. Or barring that, why couldn't he have been the High Guard's medic or scientist and studied the process and uses of the Transformation Cog? That way, he would have a plethora of knowledge and be very invested in Sentinel's downfall since he knows the truth of the matter. Perhaps he feels guilty for having assisted. Maybe he was banished for trying to do too much. There are a thousand things that could be done with even a hint of such a backstory. Heck, maybe he could be the one to have a small mountain of cogs to offer cogless bots during the battle against Sentinel. Or if we want to maintain the emotional value of the bots fighting without their cogs, have Shockwave offer up images of piles upon piles of destroyed T-cogs or something for evidence. There is a lot of potential for him that was never realized, and all it would have taken is a line or two to establish him and his usefulness to the Decepticons later.

"He wouldn't stop talking."

Sentinel Prime:

Sentinel's character was, quite frankly, delightful. There were no redemptive qualities about him, and I personally found that to be perfect for his character. He was cruel, prideful, vicious, arrogant, and everything else I expected from a cliche villain. And yet, despite being cliche, his voice acting combined with his stable character portrayal always had me adoring how terrible he was. Whenever Sentinel came on screen, I was excited to see him because I knew how he was going to act, and I was thrilled to see it play out every time. I knew his personality, and yet how he went about his activities always exceeded my expectations. Personally, I adored how smug his dialogue was, right up until the very end of his life. It sold him as being the worst, even if he wasn't breaking any new ground with his character. Sometimes you just need a character who sucks as an individual. I appreciate that the movie was willing to make him irredeemable, unlike other iterations of Sentinel Prime who at least had a slightly non-selfish hidden motive somewhere in their backstory. There's nothing I would change about him, not in the slightest, at least not without adjusting the entire movie and rewriting it from the ground up. He fits. Simple as that.

"What truth? That I plucked your cogs from your newborn chests, forced you to mine so that I could pay off the Quintessons, and live like a King?"

Alpha Trion:

Alpha Trion was a fascinating character with so much potential history and lore attached to him. I am quite sad he didn't get more of a chance to shine, considering his past and his status as the last living Prime. He did serve his part in the movie, quite well might I add. But he could have had more. He was so very tired sounding, lost even. He seemed to care for our main cast and offered so much wisdom, and yet had so little time to actually impress it upon the main characters. He died with honor and what times he did have the chance to speak were well put together. However, I would have liked to see a bit more of him, personally. A bit more character, spice if you will.

I would have given at least one digit on my right hand to see him train our group of four, or at least begin guiding them back to Iacon so give them more time to talk. His presence could have accentuated the fallout between Orion and D-16, showing their shifting ideals when compared to the pure goal of Alpha Trion. Perhaps he could be the one to try and guide the group into working as a cohesive unit. And perhaps his slaughter could be one of those things that drives D-16 and Orion apart now that they no longer have a stabilizing force to keep them from arguing over what to do with their evidence. Honestly, I'm thinking something Uncle Ben combined with Uncle Iroh for Alpha Trion would have been a perfect way to introduce him, make use of him, and ultimately offline him in a meaningful manner. But again, time constraints are a real issue and I understand the problems the movie had giving everyone time to breathe.

"I failed you, old friend. You deserved so much better than this end."

Arachnid: She's a fascinating character who I personally would have loved to see more of. The times she turned up on screen were always noteworthy, and the fact that her intentions were largely unknown gave me a feeling like she was this movie's Soundwave. She didn't need too much development because her role in the movie was perfectly structured. She was Sentinel's right hand, his eyes and his hands. She is a perfect example of a character who doesn't need much exposition or backstory simply because she fulfills her role perfectly. We can make assumptions and still have room to speculate, but her character doesn't feel like a vacuum or like its missing some grand piece. Would I have appreciated a hint more for her thought? Yes.

Personally, I think hearing rumors of Sentinel's frightening right hand might have given her the final touch she needed to be a solid character in my book. Just some bots being in awe as she walks by with Sentinel, or perhaps Orion recognizing her from some old text from the archives. That way she could come onto the scene with a reputation. Or barring that, a sense of dread. That said, I did enjoy her introduction and I have no real critiques of her. The character is built well for the time she's on screen. I enjoyed her far more than I did Elita-One which should tell you all something. A girlboss character can be done well. Look at Arachnid and her combat prowess and intelligence. Elita was just a poorly done, slapped together attempt at giving our main cast flavor.

"I see everything."

That One Random Quintesson: It looked neat. Very intimidating in its own weird way. Certainly uncanny considering the metallic scenery. Could have used at least a line or two to sell the evil. I personally would have paid money for the Quint to talk in gibberish and for Sentinel to somehow understand because that would show just how long he'd been working for the Quintessons.

Jazz: We saw him a grand total of perhaps five times and I love him. No complaints. He's very Jazz and maintains his Jazz attitude throughout every single scene he turns up in. I especially love him during the scene where Orion rallies the cogless. He looks so confused and yet so happy later one when he gets his Transformation Cog.

"Little? There's nothing little about you."

Darkwing: DARKWING DUCK- I'm kidding. Darkwing's character had little to no depth, but he served perfectly fine considering his role in the movie. An aggressive enforcer of some variety, evidently high ranking enough to be in the Iacon 5000. He's got enough flavor to him that I'm sure someone in the fandom will decide he is their blorbo and run with it. He's not breaking any new ground, nor are his lines anything noteworthy. He simply is, and considering his role, it suites him.

"You are no cog bots with limited options. Report to waste management immediately."

Background Characters in General: Nothing really of note. They existed and served their purposes. I appreciated the fact that no two bots were the same appearance wise. It made Iacon feel more lived in, a trait desperately needed considering how small the world felt. Seeing so many familiar faces was fun.

The Plot

(An assessment of the story overall & its holes.)

The plot was fantastic, at least with all the random unneeded scenes not considered.

There were quite a few themes present, most of which were at least touched upon. Honestly, the journey to discover the truth was a wonderful overall plot. I have very few complaints about the way the story set out. Two miners who, by accident, are cast away and gain an inkling of the truth. This in turn sending them on a quest to uncover said truth, only to have their worldview shattered. It's simple, and at the end of their road, their differing ideas regarding what to do with the truth are what drive them apart.

There are some things that don't add up, such as the time it takes the crew to actually get from Point A to Point B at any given part of the film. Time is a real issue in the movie. If we had only been given the illusion of more time passing, some of the pacing issues might have been less in our faces. Additionally, there are a few inconsistencies.

The boys being chucked down fifty sub levels because the plot needed it to happen. The plot device just happening to be there for reasons. How B-127 and the boys know how to get anywhere is beyond me. Elita being at the exact train they need to board at the exact right time is a bit off. The t-cog situation is interesting and I can't help but wonder how that whole mess really works. The High Guard popping out of the ground like cabbage patch kids. D-16 suddenly choosing to betray his best friend for reasons that were not given enough time to justify.

It's just a lot of smaller things that added up, when combined with the pacing, to create something a bit off. However, overall, the base story attempting to be told is very solid, only needing to be tweaked and refined to add further depth and give characters reasons to be there at all.

A very solid 7.5 - 8/10 movie when viewed overall.

The World Building

(Current questions & Information + musings)

Cybertronians don't bleed, unlike other continuities.

I find this fact downright fascinating. When characters are killed, they don't bleed. TFP bled, pretty sure other continuities did as well. Except for G1 at any rate. It's an interesting take since energon appears to be a liquid, not crystal, on this new version of Cybertron. That leads me to believe that it must be pure energy since the moment it is taken in, it appears to go straight into powering the bot in question, rather than flowing through their veins. They are far more machine like, and I have had that fact grow on me a lot. Less alien, more mechanical.

The cogless had their cogs removed before coming online. Where are said cogs now?

It really is fascinating to think about. Sentinel had all of these T-cogs removed, presumably thousands upon thousands of them. I have to wonder, were they destroyed? Stored away in case on of the bots allowed to have their cogs needed a new one? If they were thrown away, how did no one notice or snag a few? There are many questions regarding how this big biological aspect of the cogless was kept from them.

Where are these bots forged? No Well of Allsparks was mentioned, at least to my memory.

It was stated that the first Primes came from Primus's core, which adds up since they are the closest this new continuity has to demi-gods. I would say that it would be likely that bots just clamber on out like the Primes did, but considering how fricking long that fall was for Orion, I have my doubts. Personally, I'm thinking this continuity probably is going the hotspot route where bots just kinda pop out of the ground in certain places. They obviously aren't climbing since they weren't online for their T-cogs to be removed. That leads me to believe that they likely form in hotspots and are cultivated until they are ready to come online. This would give Sentinel plenty of time to do a little removal all easy peasy.

Cycles are years. Days are days.

Interesting take on time, but ultimately kind of useless on its own. Lots of human time terms are used, so it seems cycles is just in there for alien factor. A unique take all the same though. I like it.

Primus is mentioned and acknowledged, but there is no mention of Unicron whatsoever.

It's really quite fascinating, but not particularly surprising considering the setting TF One takes place in. Many bots are uneducated, and with the fall of the Primes, it could very well be that no one knows about Unicron anymore because the threat he posed paled in comparison to the Quintessons. It could also be that Sentinel might have had any records about him removed in order to keep the population afraid of one threat, rather than many. It's not as thought Sentinel can deny Primus exists. But Unicron? Can't see it? No need to believe it. Still, it will be fun to see if Unicron ever comes up.

The war with the Quintessons is stated to have gone on for thousands of cycles, and yet there are few ruins. Just how devastating was it? How powerful are the Primes?

I am of the belief that long ago, Cybertron was an empire. There were cities everywhere and the surface was most likely covered in defenses. Most likely, the Quintessons whittled away at Cybertron's surface population, hence the war going on for so long and the people retreating underground into their creator's shell. The Primes appear to be powerful, but they were most likely scattered across the surface to try and limit the damage done by the enemy. The war was likely very close to be lost after millennia of being continually under siege when the Primes finally fell. In a sense, Sentinel likely did buy Cybertron time, but he also doomed them by destroying what history they had that might have helped them.

Are there other cities on Cybertron? There has to be, considering how large the planet is, but the offered energon to the Quintessons tells a different story. What happened?

We don't have enough information to make a good guess, but I personally believe, as stated above, that most cities were likely wiped out. Those who survived fled underground, meaning that most cities are either few and far between, or they are so sprawling that 'Iacon' encompasses far more area that we are led to believe. The offering of energon could have possibly been so small because it has been so long. Maybe, once upon a time, the offerings were far larger since more cities could bring energon in. It's hard to tell.

Is Cybertron in a post apocalyptic state?

I think so. Considering the ruins on the surface, the suppression of the masses, and the struggle to get energon, I do think that Cybertron is sitting in such a state when the movie is happening. The setting scene in Transformers One, and Iacon in particular, appear to be the last gasp of a dying race after what could have been a siege lasting up to thousands upon thousands of years.

T-cogs evidently have a certain amount of biological alteration involved in their acquisition.

This can be seen in Megatron when he takes Megatronus Prime's T-cog. Personally, I think this says something about the use of a T-cog. Some appear to be more suited toward combat whilst others have other uses. It appears to be Cybertron's version of the genetic lottery, since up until one gets a T-cog, it seems as though it is quite impossible to determine alt-mode or abilities. Look at Jazz. He didn't get his little door wings until after he got his T-cog. This has a lot of implications for T-cog inheritance too. Is that a thing that can happen? Does it affect various bots differently? Many many questions.

Does the T-cog have an effect on the mentality of those who inherit it? Was Alpha Trion aware of this when he chose which T-cogs to give to the crew?

I honestly think it's impossible to know at the moment. We don't have enough lore to make a solid assessment. But I would like to think it at least has some effect on the bot in question when they get a T-cog that was not originally theirs. Again, look at Megatron. Maybe Alpha Trion selected the Primes with the most adaptability for a reason. Perhaps some of those latent traits present themselves in their new wielders. I don't know, but I would very much like to.

Cogless bots are essentially children.

They are smaller, slower, and from the looks of it, less liable to fight against those larger than them (although that could just be common sense.) They don't appear to be less intelligent or anything, but I do imagine the T-cog is a sort of wakeup protocol for bots. It diversifies them, allowing for specialization. So yeah, from the looks of things, they might as well be children frame wise.

No noticeable spark chambers. Instead, we have the slot for T-cogs.

I find it downright fascinating that instead of having a way to expose their sparks, the TF One bots instead expose their slot for their T-cog. There's not a ton I can gather from this lore except for the fact that this must mean sparks are likely farther into the frame and more protected, and like a human heart, probably not meant to be seen.

(Also the smut writers are going to have to get creative)

There are different Primes this time around. Still Thirteen of them, but a few old and new faces from various continuities.

I have no clue what it implies for the most part, but from the looks of it, we aren't going to have an IDW/TFP Arisen any time soon. All the Primes are named, have faces, and are confirmed to be dead. There's no mystery here about some secret resurrection Prime goofing around in the background. I like it personally, even if it does limit the more mythological aspects that could be present in this new continuity.

There don't appear to be any sort of familiar or mentor-mentee social structures on Cybertron. We also don't see anyone who acts young enough to possibly be newly forged. Does this mean everyone comes online with basic knowledge? Or are they put through bootcamp before even entering society?

Again, I'm thinking the bots are raised like cabbage patch kids, grown and watched over wherever they form until they come online. Then, most likely, the cogless just kinda figure it out, IDW style. Same goes for the rest of the population.

How are the cogless selected for their fate? Is it random since Sentinel removed their T-cogs before they even came online?

It's a good question that I would like the answer to. Most likely, it's a numbers game. Special traits don't appear to present until a bot gets their alt-mode, leading me to believe that the cogless are selected based purely off how many miners are needed at the time.

D-16 gained a weapon via being angry. Do all bots have that? Is it a stress response? Or is D-16 special like that?

Again, the T-cog question. It feels like it's related to biology somehow, but I don't have enough info to make a solid guess.

The Matrix is referred to as an entity. Why is that?

No bloody clue but I really hope the dang thing talks or has some sort of unique ability aside from being an extra battery that gives Optimus a really cool axe.

The bots have eyelids and tongues.

It makes sense that they have them. I just think it's neat.

Some bots have real names. Other do not.

I have no clue what this implies, but I am running under the assumption that there is either a criteria to meet to get a name, or bots just pick their names and roll with it.

The Ending + Implications

(How I think things will go from here in future films.)

The ending scene was ridiculous and felt chucked in there above all else (note: I am referring to everything after the t-cogs are distributed). However, it did offer a hint of insight into what is coming in the future.

Based on what Transformers One presented, and the fact that it has been stated that it will (if all goes well) be part of a trilogy, I have a few predictions for the coming films. Of course this is all speculation because the movie ended on a rather open ended note without much foreshadowing for what is to come, at least on the surface. So take this as my musings above all else.

Firstly, the Quintessons are going to be removed or otherwise sidelined as a threat. Optimus's line regarding the Quintessons at the end of the film leads me to believe that they were more of a plot device than anything else, and I expect them to become even less prominent going forward. I simply cannot see them being the BBEG of the trilogy considering the layout of the movie. Although it is very possible that they could serve as a minor antagonist to push the war along in later films.

If things continue as they are and the creators keep to the origin story vibe, then I see the second movie as likely focusing heavily on the war and its rapid fall into sheer chaos. I expect it to be fast paced, just like Transformers One. So quite likely, it will be a series of battles, schemes, and Megatron marching his armies while Optimus desperately tries to rally his people and fight back.

The second movie will probably be split between Autobot and Decepticon perspectives, Avengers Civil War style if I had to guess.

We will likely see Megatron gathering troops and capturing territory while Optimus fortifies what land Sentinel previously controlled in order to try and limit conflict (and promptly fail).

Optimus will go through some arc or another that gets him to fight seriously, but considering this is Optimus, he is probable to maintain his attitude of 'I can fix him' at least to an extent. Although, considering how he sent Megatron away, we may be surprised going forward.

We are going to be introduced to key Autobot and Decepticon characters throughout the second movie. Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Arcee, and others. Starscream, Soundwave, Shockwave, and the rest will likely get actual development.

There will probably be at least one peace talk that goes south the instant Optimus dares to breathe in Megatron's general direction.

Elita is bound to get more screen time than she deserves.

Bumblebee will earn his name and either have his voice taken from him, or he will end up forcefully silenced through some other means, perhaps a vow or trauma. Depends on how mature the creators want to make him in the future.

Megatron will probably end up seeing Orion as having died in some capacity, either that, or he will see everything Optimus stands for as a betrayal of their shared history and a insult to the suffering of the cogless.

The third movie will likely end with both factions abandoning Cybertron during a great exodus (if they are trying to follow G1/comic canon vaguely.) I simply don't see the films moving to Earth since that's been seriously overused over the past twenty or so years.

I anticipate the introduction and or the alteration of previously well known characters throughout all the films. Since the creators have been willing to adjust the origin as much as they have, nothing is off the table.

Those are all the predictions I can make at the moment considering there has been very little to work with foreshadowing wise.

My Suggested Adjustments

(My thoughts for an ideal TF One which stays within the time limit, keeps to the established plot & acknowledges the future existence of more films.)

Now, again, before I begin my edit rant, I will try my very best to keep to the plot of the film and not go off track. I will be offering edits, not a rewrite (yet). Also, most of this is just musing and things I would like to see, not professional writing. Take with a grain of salt. That said, here's what I would adjust.

I would add a few lines of dialogue during D-16 and Orion's chat on the train to hint at Orion having a fascination with the surface and/or skeptic attitude toward what they've been told backed with a desire to check things out for himself. This would be just to build a little extra character. Additionally, during their chat, D-16 can remind Orion that the surface is dangerous not only because of the Quints, but because the traitors are up there. The wild High Guard, now gone mad. Orion can wave him off, stating he's not going to become like Starscream before moving onto his discussion about how he has a feeling like he's meant for something greater. The conversation can then continue as normal.

Remove Elita from the mining scene in the beginning. Have someone like Ironhide be the team leader so that his gruff personality can really drive home just how dangerous their job is before they even get started. Instead of Elita's rant, Ironhide can again remind his group about the risks of their work and maybe even discuss how someone got his or her lower half crushed in the last tunnel collapse. The group can then rush to get to work, with D-16 and Orion being all buddy buddy about it. D-16 and Orion can greet a few of their fellows, maybe assisting a bit in order to bring in more familiar faces. A brief pause can occur for Elita to look down on the group from her position overseeing things. She and Orion can share a brief look/nod/salute/gesture that D-16 can then mock and Orion can use to remind his brother in arms that Elita is an old friend, nothing more thing less. Elita can then call down, ordering them to get a move on before they get in trouble. Ironhide can then get the group hustling into the tunnel. This would solidify Elita's place of power while also introducing other characters and the harshness of the work.

The mining scene can go on as usual, but when the rescue happens, Elita can jump down and order Orion and D-16 back, maybe yelling something like: "Pax, D-16, pull back! I won't ruin my record with three deaths in one day!" in order to cement her deep care for her position. And once they make it out safely, Elita can check Jazz over for a moment before getting in Orion's face, D-16 probably trying to not be involved. There they can share some dialogue that shows Elita's exasperation with him, but also her fondness. Perhaps something like this:

"How many times have we done this Orion? I can't keep letting you break protocol!"

"Even to save a few lives?"

"We are miners. Danger is part of the job. Your recklessness is a liability."

"Even though it saved you from that tunnel collapse last cycle?"

"That is beside the point Orion, and you know it. You really need to develop some self-preservation skills."

Then of course Darkwing can jump down and fire Elita, only this time instead of being as sudden as it was in the original TF One, Elita can instead be fired for letting Orion and D-16 off yet again AND sustaining an injury to her team (RIP Jazz's leg). She can fight back, saying that lives were saved despite the breech of protocol. Darkwing can then shoot her down again even when Orion steps up to try and take the blame. This way, Elita can have the final straw moment with Orion, her expression being bitter as she has her rank badge ripped off. Her dialogue with Darkwing can hint that this is not the first time she's let things slide, hence the demotion. She can look at Orion and D-16 in sheer anger, shaking with rage as she murmurs about how hard she worked for this position before shoving past both of them. This would make her less agitating as a character but still give her ample room for snark and anger while maintaining a connection to our main cast.

When Sentinel gives his message to the people, D-16 can get just as excited TF One canon, but Orion can be a bit skeptical. The scene with Elita can influence him, making whatever skeptical nature he'd developed all the more real. Perhaps, as a bonus, Sentinel mentions that the winner of this race will get to request something from him/get a new rank. Seeing this, Orion will then want to get in both to try and prove a point, and to hopefully make it so that he can get himself and those closest to him to a high enough rank to make a difference. His hope could be that if they won, he could request better oversight in the mines and a chance to show their grievances. D-16 can still, of course, not want to be involved when Orion implores him to try and be something greater.

The race scene can stay as is, only changing to show Soundwave AND Arachnid by Sentinel's side. But when the duo are in the med bay, Ratchet can come by to fix these two idiots up. Instead of being cogless, he can be one of the higher ranked bots and perhaps serve Sentinel personally. While Orion and D-16 have their little banter session, he can work on them and probably tell them to shut up before the Prime arrives. Perhaps he also comments on their poor repair, wondering if the mines have medics. D-16 and Orion can state that they do not, earning Ratchet's anger since he assumed they at least had basic health care. Maybe he even tells them to watch their mouths, or perhaps praising them for their stupidity and being mildly in awe of it. This could set him up as an ally later.

The discussion with Sentinel can go as it does in canon, but when he leaves with Arachnid, it can be Soundwave who is ordered to 'remove' them. Soundwave can hesitate, looking at the duo and then at Ratchet would could try to object since he would know what is coming. Soundwave, ever the loyal aid to his Prime, could then call Darkwing in to take D-16 and Orion to their fate. Soundwave can even look genuinely upset at the scene, his fists all clenched up as the duo cry out in confusion. Ratchet can curse, and the scene can end with our two heroes being thrown down to sub-level fifty where no one without an alt mode with wings can escape.

Down in sub-level fifty, it can be a horror show. A huge set of incinerators where huge conveyor belts are transporting waste to the fires without end. Maybe there are even a handful of bodies amongst the mix, miners and other cogless. D-16 can continue to believe it must have been some huge mixup, perhaps getting all angry about it before B-127 appears from the rubbish, looking terrifying and scuttling over to them. He can get all up in their faces, maybe touching them to ensure they are in fact alive before his mask lifts and he goes right into being himself. He can have his nickname moment, but it can be mixed in with him showing the duo around the fires, giving them some warnings like:

"Don't mess with the bodies, those tend to be infected."

"Watch where you step! Don't want to miss energon by accident. It's rare down here!"

"With you two here, I won't have to worry about accidentally ending up on the conveyors while recharging!"

B-127 can ramble for a bit, much to our duo's horror. Then he can show them his makeshift residence, made of trash and other things. Inside can be all sorts of wacky things, including STEVE. As he's showing off his collection and gleefully pointing out things from various cities he's found, D-16 can marvel at a few of the older wartime relics Bee has and Orion can sift through Bee's stack of random reading and viewing material. As D-16 tries to smile through B-127's eager explanations of how he found things, Orion can note the symbol of the Primes on one of the small disks B-127 has. Bee can notice and exclaim how he found it on the body of someone from the High Guard forever ago. At that, D-16 can recoil, but Orion can turn the disk on.

The message can be revealed as normal, and again, Orion can convince D-16 to go despite the threat. Being trapped underground, they decide to give it a shot. B-127 sadly points out that he's been down in the sublevels for actual cycles and he's never been able to get out, not without a T-cog. At this point, he can show off his damaged T-cog, taking it from one of his shelves for all to see. The duo can be quite confused as Bee states that he came online with it broken, mentioning how he felt someone trying to mess with it before he was thrown into the sublevels. Orion's suspicions can grow, D-16 can become more adamant that something OTHER than Sentinel is going on here, and from there, they can use B-127's things and tools to work their way out. Perhaps they construct a grappling gun, or otherwise use old material to tower their way up to a vent on the far wall. D-16 can undo all the screws with some difficulty as the conveyor belts below them threaten to drag them into the fires. But with time, they can quickly crawl their way out, perhaps with D-16 grabbing Bee before he can fall back into the rubble below.

From there, Orion can use his knowledge of all things underhanded to begin guiding them up toward the surface. D-16 can add his input by feeling for wind currents and whatnot. All the while, B-127 can tell them he's heard of a train depot nearby, considering maps and other things that fell into the rubble with him + shaking over head occasionally.

Once they get to the depot, they can try to join the masses of miners loading up the train carts. Attempting to blend in, they grab grates and try to move quietly and just, not emerge from the train once they get on it since they know its heading to the surface. But as they are waiting to load, they encounter Elita. She engages with them, attempting to stop them as a form of retribution and even arguing that she's saved their hides one too many times. Orion, despite his respect for her, pushing his group on. They push past Elita, discarding stealth in favor of leaping into the train before it can take off. Elita, still upset and desperate to stop them from causing more harm, throws herself in after them with the intent to stop them. The doors close before she can, and in anger, she pauses, and books it toward the front of the train to try and halt it. Being smaller and nimble, she dodges attempts to grab at her, even knocking a crate over which hits Orion. As they make it to the surface of the train, D-16 and Orion lag behind, but B-127 manages to slow Elita down by grabbing her leg long enough for Orion to also pull himself up and grab her arm before she can hit them.

Then the traintop scene can play out as normal.

Once they are thrown to the ground, Elita can still get up in Orion's face, but instead of losing her cool, she can instead grab him, take a few breathes, and say something along the lines of this:

"Orion, since they day we met, you've been a thorn in my side. Always getting me intro trouble whenever you decide to run off with your go-bot buddies and make a scene."

"I know. And I'm sorry. But this... this is beyond any of that. We could find the Matrix, Elita. We could do what Sentinel hasn't been able to. We can save our home."

"And that is the only reason I haven't tried to punch you yet, Pax. But if this mission of yours fails, if this is all some grand hoax, I'm taking you and your pals back to Iacon and getting my rank returned to me."

"That's fine, because I quite firmly believe that this is the real deal."

"It better be, or you can bet your bolts I'm never going to let you live this down."

"I wouldn't expect anything else."

Orion and Elita share a moment of reconciliation before they both look over the map together. Leaning on each other for support as they follow the coordinates. All the while, D-16 and B-127 comment on the scenery, and helping their group avoid various hazards. D-16 might even note how there aren't an High Guard rebels, a fact that leaves him suspicious, especially as the group passes through increasingly frequent ruins, all inhabited by the bodies of bots who bear the symbol of the High Guard, or the long dismantled old Cybertronian army. D-16 might even see how it seems as though a few of the High Guard were actively trying to defend civilians, as evidenced by the bodies. This leaves him thoughtful, less angry.

There should be a few flashes of the group taking cover as strange creatures move on the surface. B-127 can pause to gather up some abandoned weaponry from an old base, earning commentary from Elita-One about how she never knew they once had so many cities on the surface. It should be a somewhat solemn march, and as they go, they can practice with their haphazard firearms by shooting as various targets to acquire what energon they can and to scare off random creatures. Orion notes the cities they pass through, listing off names he's read in the archives and being saddened by the fact that they lost so much. D-16 becomes more and more upset as they go, seeing the bodies and wondering why Sentinel hasn't recollected abandoned resources or otherwise given the dead a bit of respect in light of the fact that they haven't seen a single enemy so far.

The scene running from the Quintesson scanner can continue as normal, and the group can rush to the cave as they watch the huge ship loom overhead. The cave scene can also continue as normal, only this time, the group can be even more distraught since they've seen the remnants of their old empire and already have doubts. Awakening Alpha Trion can go as normal, as can Sentinel's discussion with the Quintessons.

D-16 and Orion can get into a slightly more heated debate than normal when they return. Orion exclaims his desire to have the people get their justice, making sure everyone knows their loss. D-16 can agree, but their argument can occur when Orion makes it clear that the people come before getting revenge on Sentinel. This does not go over well with D-16, and although Elita and B-127 attempt to step in, Orion and D-16 begin to argue more furiously until at last, Alpha Trion steps up and pushes them apart gently. Probably saying something like:

"Primus has a plan for all his creations. Do not judge too quickly, instead, act with wisdom and foresight."

Trion can offer the values of his fallen brethren, encouraging D-16 to act as Megatronus Prime would, as a guardian of the people, their voice and their sword. In turn, he can urge Orion to follow after Prima or Zeta, telling him to use his noble spark to be a voice of reason. He might turn to the Elita and B-127, but then he notes that they are low on time. From here, Trion can give the group the T-cogs of the fallen Primes and hurriedly usher them out as Arachnid draws near. The escape progresses as normal, and Orion and D-16 again have their debate. Orion stands his ground a bit longer, showing a hint of anger. But remembering Alpha Trion's words, he consoles himself and D-16 by stating that he trusts D-16, which in turn diffuses the tension.

The group can move quietly, with Elita being solemn and B-127 a bit shaken up. Orion and D-16 discuss what they plan to do as Elita watches for enemy units and B-127 hurries ahead to scout. As they talk, it becomes clear that Orion wants to rally the people and spread the truth first and foremost. Meanwhile, D-16 wants to strike hard and fast, a tactful assault meant to end Sentinel. They can worry about the truth later in his mind. They argue for a while, and as they fight, Orion can get a bit aggressive, leading D-16 to push him. As they tussle, they end up tumbling, and despite both B-127 and Elita telling them to shush and trying to pry them apart, the group are unable to evade the High Guard soldiers that surround them. they aren't given a chance to fight back before Shockwave orders their capture.

The scene with Sentinel and Alpha Trion can go as normal.

The group can wake to Shockwave assessing them, noting that their T-cogs are not biologically theirs. He finds this interesting, and since they are of interest, he prepares to remove said T-cogs/perform other surgeries to see if they are a new flavor of spy. D-16's fears are confirmed for a moment, up until Skywarp and Thundercracker stop him, ordering Shockwave to bring the prisoners to Starscream. The name rattles the group, causing them all to bunch up in momentary fear. But when they are brought before him, Starscream looks at them all in intrigue. He questions them, asking why they were on the surface at all since its essentially a barren wasteland. Shockwave points out their T-cogs, and Starscream finds it suspicious. Skywarp and Thundercracker guard the group, one with a gun to B-127's helm to keep him quiet.

Starscream steps before the group, scarred and battered, maybe even a little sickly looking from lack of energon. The rest of his soldiers aren't much better. He assesses the group before concluding that they aren't spies, merely newbuilds who got too curious for their own good. Not wanting them to go back and spill the beans about the High Guard, Starscream offers them a place as soldiers in his ranks, confirming that they fought against Sentinel, not the Primes. He also makes it clear that he will require the group's information regarding energon, that being his major reason for keeping them at all.

At his point, D-16 can step up, angry and unwilling to serve another false prophet. He refuses to bow to a mech who fled, and then their battle goes on as normal. D-16 proceeds to hold Starscream captive, stopping Thundercracker and Skywarp, Starscream's lieutenants, from acting and ordering the rest to attack. He declares his desire to fight, to strike back against the enemy while they still can. He points out their weakness, their lack of energon, and describes his experiences in the mines. Knowing they served the Primes, D-16 repeats the tenants of Megatronus Prime taught to him by Alpha Trion, rallying the High Guard. The High Guard, seeing his passion, and after watching him beat down a few more bots eager to stop him, agree to follow his lead. Starscream is allowed to live, only because Orion steps up and grabs D-16's blaster. They have a moment of tension, but it fades as D-16 throws Orion off and declares that he knows the mines and can guide them in for an assault on Sentinel. The High Guard, having little to lose and finally having a chance to fight, are eager to serve.

Orion can then step up, upset that D-16 cares more about vengeance than the truth. D-16 states that they can share the truth later, once Sentinel is dead. Elita steps up to calm Orion, urging him to not be rash and compromise. B-127 attempts a similar method with D-16 and urging him to at least take time to plan. Orion and D-16 do not back down, and just as Orion asks for them to at least take time to discuss things, the attack from Arachnid occurs.

The battle goes as normal, but in its aftermath, Thundercracker, Skywarp, and Shockwave remain, along with about half their troops. Elita tries to get Orion up and going, reminding him of how his nature has saved bots time and time again in the mines, and how his instincts brought them there, to their newfound truth. She comforts him with a quick hug, urging him to get back up now that they have information to spread and friends to save. Orion agrees, and speaks with Thundercracker, Skywarp, and Shockwave. He bargains temporary leadership by offering the same information D-16 had, the way into Iacon. The High Guard are hesitant, but they follow if only to have one final hit at Sentinel before their end. They are all sickly anyway, and Thundercracker can note that without Starscream, they don't have much motivation anyway.

The group can board up on a train that passes by, throwing out the crates and loading soldiers instead. Elita takes control of the bridge with the help of Shockwave who guides her through security protocols. When asked how he can do that, he simply states that he once served Sentinel, keeping it vague and maybe stating he was his head scientist at one point and that his credentials are still valid since he was assumed dead. It could be something like that. And Shockwave can get them past security without issue. Thundercracker and or Skywarp rally the troops as Orion leaps from the train, making his way toward the mines.

There, he can speak to his fellows. Covered in soot, grime, and ash, he can hold a gun given to him by Skywarp before his leap, and he can make his grand speech. There, the miners are hesitant even after being told the truth. But Ironhide and Jazz can step up, offering their belief and support. Seeing that, other faces from the mining scene earlier in the film come forward, willing to fight. Orion tells them to gather up their tools, to fight for their freedom, and from there, the miners also raise concerns about their wounds. At that point, Ratchet can step forward, stating that he can help. Orion is in awe, but is even more shocked when he gets word that Soundwave of all bots is offering aid and supplies. More soldiers join the miners, eager to fight. Ratchet can smile, picking up a pistol and declaring that he, Soundwave, and a few others have had enough of turning a blind eye to the injustices committed by Sentinel and his kind.

D-16's interaction with Sentinel goes as normal, although Starscream does pipe up along with B-127, attempting to save D-16 neck as he refuses to bow. After Sentinel carves the symbol and Arachnid points out their incoming enemies, the scene can shift to show cogless, not cogless, and High Guard soldiers alike all pouring onto the premises. Sentinel can demand to know why their defenses are lowered, turning to Soundwave in anger. Soundwave for his part can then betray Sentinel openly, showing his distaste and getting a solid punch in before he's thrown across the room. On the ground, Ironhide can be seen directing soldiers alongside a future Decepticon of choice, perhaps the Stunticons or Constructicons help him tear down some walls or other defenses. Ratchet can also be seen working with a few of the cogless and offering covering fire as Jazz and Prowl rush forward to get in a few potshots with their far too large weapons.

The battle progresses as normal, and Orion manages to get the truth out as per usual. The scenes shift to show bots all across the city swarming in anger, breaking things and fighting anything or anyone that looks like they might follow Sentinel. Elita and B-127 celebrate and Orion orders them to go assist with controlling the assault in order to capture Sentinel's followers and limit the chaos. They agree and rush off, but Orion soon finds himself in the battle with D-16 and Sentinel.

The Fall goes as normal, only having a bit more aggression on Orion's part as he pleads with his best friend, begging him to at least wait until the people can judge Sentinel themselves. They are fighting for freedom of choice, and he tries to dissuade his friend for D-16's sake. Unfortunately, the Fall goes as planned, and D-16 lets Orion drop after he comes to the conclusion that it would be better for Orion to die here than to witness what he's going to do next. He may even tell Orion as such, calling it a mercy. Then, he lets him fall.

Megatron rises as normal, and Orion is brought to Primus's core. There he hears whispers, contrasting Megatron's speech. Orion hears the Primes speaking to him, each murmuring softly and quietly showing him visions of times gone by between him and D-16, a final goodbye of sorts. Then, it ends with the Matrix bestowed, and Optimus Prime is born as a chorus of voices calls his name. He rises to the surface as Megatron starts shooting at Elita and B-127, Soundwave joining him along with Starscream who covers his back. More future Decepticons rally around him, helping him in his rampage while the cogless and Ratchet try to limit the crossfire. It all ends as Optimus Prime comes forth.

Their battle can then progress as normal, with Megatron being banished. Optimus can still be sorrowful, but something hardens in his gaze as he turns away from where Megatron fled. He had his moment to let go when he took the Matrix, and now he's ready for war. He gathers his allies, looking over the devastation and up toward the surface. Elita comforts him quietly with a smile and a hand on his shoulder. B-127 notes Optimus's new height and points out the people below, the cogless all watching in awe. Elita encourages him to speak, and Optimus does just that, rallying his people one more time with encouragement and a declaration that they must move onward, to reclaim their freedom and their world.

He raises the Matrix high, and energon again flows. The people are thrilled, and soon they each begin to step closer to the streams of energon. The cogless lean close, and their T-cogs are returned to them. The movie closes with Optimus's narration about how their battle is not yet over, and how it has merely begun. All the while, Optimus is shown getting his people in line, Elita standing proudly by his side as he begins to organize his troops. Ratchet smiles and pats him on the shoulder, Ironhide flexes and picks up a blaster, Jazz gleefully flutters his door wings. The people salute and cheer as Optimus passes. The scene then changes to Megatron with the High Guard, rebuilding their destroyed ship. Megatron welcomes new recruits from Iacon into his ranks.

Everything ends with the two leaders looking up toward the surface, ending with Optimus overlooking their world and seeing a Quintesson ship flying away as he gives his closing narration.

This is roughly how I would adjust the movie, minus all the itty bittie things that would have to be brought up with the animators and voice actors. But plot wise, these are my adjustments. It would lay the groundwork for future films and also establish character lore early. So yeah, enjoy my take.

Arguments Against My Critiques

(Q&A against Strawmen. More of a joke than anything else don't take it too seriously.)

The movie is aimed toward a younger audience. You shouldn't be so serious with your review.

The movie had Megatron quite literally tear a mech in half. On screen. No cuts. It also dealt with the slaughter of actual Primes and touched dark themes like slavery and the beginnings of an Orwellian society on Cybertron. Sure, it had jokes and gags aimed at younger audiences, but this film was created with so many Easter eggs and callbacks that I cannot find it in myself to believe the creators were aiming for a children's film. They made it for Transformers, a franchise forty years old. When messing with such an old franchise that has always touched delicate and serious themes throughout all its media, you have to consider old and new fans alike.

Thus, I feel no inclination to be nice in my assessment. This is a film that's trying to reach all Transformers fans, so I will assess it as a full and proper movie.

The studio only had 75 million dollars and a tight time limit for the film. Can't a few allowances for pacing issues be made?

No, no allowances cannot be made. A good piece of media should be able to stand on its own, and a well constructed film should be capable of cutting excess fat in order to keep the movie on track. Transformers One was trying to do the seemingly impossible by shoving an entire origin story in one film. While I think it was possible to have been done tastefully, as seen by the glorious scenes spread throughout the film, they failed to make the pacing make sense.

They had roughly and hour and forty minutes to make their story happen, and far too much of that time was spent on meaningless characters and scenes. If that time was reallocated, the film could have dealt with much of its pacing problems. It probably wouldn't fix everything considering the tight timeframe for such rich characters, but it was doable.

Additionally, 75 million is MORE than enough to make a quality film. I doubt funds were an issue here. Although they might be going forward.

Orion was in a state of shock and couldn't be expected to act perfectly considering the situation. And D-16 anger made perfect sense so there is no need to criticize them both so harshly.

I partially agree. I can't judge them too much because on their own, these traits of theirs are expected and in fact, good for their development. Unfortunately, due to the pacing, D-16's combustive rage and Orion's passiveness came off as rushed and somewhat childish on both Orion and D-16's side. I judge them harshly because their arcs feel like whiplash, or in Orion's case, unfinished. I'm willing to give D-16 a little room because his arc actually arced, it did its thing and finished in a convincing manner (disregarding the pacing). But Orion? Nah. I judge him and D-16 because they could have been so much more given TIME.

The plot wasn't that bad. The progression made sense on paper and each shift in the narrative led into the next scene without much trouble.

I'm sure it did! I really am! If I were writing a novel with this plot, it would make sense when blocked out! But the presentation of an idea is what defines it. Transformers One had a perfectly acceptable outline, I'm sure. But the pacing threw the entire thing into a blender and topped it with mustard and kale. Because of the pacing, the plot itself started to fall apart, especially with excess bloating in the form of unneeded scenes and characters. It's a shame since I'm certain that given enough time and proper progression, the jerky scene shifts could have been made spectacular.

The High Guard could have worked. They really could have. But they needed foreshadowing and time. The same goes for a lot of things in Transformers One.

Why are you so harsh with Elita-One? She finally got some spotlight and had a chance to shine!

A shiny turd is still a turd. Next question.

You can't expect every background character to have depth or for there to be a thousand cities for the cast to traverse.

True enough! But to that, all I can say is: Environmental factors.

I don't need to see Kaon, Tarn, Helex, Uraya, Polyhex, Rodion, or any of the other cities seen in various Transformers lore to know they exist and feel the world is bigger (And if they don't exist in TF One then it would be a great hint at the horrors inflicted by the Quints to state that there are no other cities anymore). All it would have taken was a bit of background lore and attention to detail to make me and other viewers feel like there's more to Cybertron than a cave, a field, and a city. A few posters on the walls, some background chatter from side characters, maybe even Bumblebee mimicking various accents from around Cybertron since he's meant to be comic relief. Heck, just show various flashes of bots in other cities being shooketh during the big reveal with Sentinel and suddenly the world feels so much more lived in.

And for characters? I don't need Soundwave's entire biography to feel he's rich. Look at Arachnid. I know next to nothing about her but she feels alive. All the side characters needed were important side roles and a few actions worthy of note. Think of TFP Soundwave who hardly ever centered but was always there. Always doing something to assist the main story. It really shouldn't be that hard to make a world feel alive. Just attention to detail.

Why does the voice actor for Orion/Optimus matter so much? What's the point in focusing so much on it?

It matters because there is a distinct change between Orion Pax and Optimus Prime. Frankly, you could have anyone be Orion because Orion is the origin. But when it comes time for him to grow, to become more? That's when its time to put on a warface and give Optimus Prime a voice that matches the name. Optimus Prime isn't just a name, it's a title, it's a long string of powerful characters each showcasing empathy and strength in equal measure. If Optimus's voice is not distinctive or powerful, his resonance as a character is seriously damaged. Now why don't I share this opinion for Megatron? Because Megatron doesn't have a frickin relic in his chest. Megatron is a voice for the people. Megatron is the embodiment of strife and anguish. His rage and his passion is what gives him distinction, not necessarily the commanding tone of his voice.

It's a difference in character that makes me care so much about the voices for Orion Pax and Optimus Prime so much.

Why bother with such a long review at all?

Because Transformers One is the first not-garbage to come out in over a decade. (No, I do not like Earthspark. That's a whole other animal and I don't think I'd have the willpower to actually watch the thing again for a review of this length.)

I want to give this film the respect it deserves by showing my every thought for it. I want to show people that despite all its good and bad features, its still something to think about and acknowledge. I don't want something this groundbreaking for our beloved franchise to go down the drain because people were too apathetic to care or too blinded by new content to use their brains and help develop better things going forward.

Final Note

(Best film ever? No. Great addition to the Transformers Franchise? Yes.)

Transformers One was a masterclass in setting a scene and establishing relationships. Everything in the first ten to fifteen minutes of film was brilliant in regards to setting up the world and our main characters. Even if I weren't a Transformers fan, I would care about the brotherhood between Orion and D-16, or at least understand it. The visuals were stunning but not too intrusive and the film was clearly made with love. The characters that were given screen time were fleshed out as much as they could be considering the constraints. And while a great many things were very out of place and made no sense logically, at least within the rapid fire time frame that is the film, the overall movie was enjoyable right up until the meeting with the High Guard, at which point things became a bit contrived.

The plot was whack considering the film's short run time. Some things were very janky. The Quintessons weren't shown nearly enough or given sufficient presence. But again, lots of this was just a side effect of not having enough time to get things rolling slowly and properly as they should have been. It was a kick back, binge on popcorn, and scream at Easter eggs type movie.

If you want something colorful to look at and a half decent set of characters to enjoy, go right on ahead and watch TF One. You certainly won't rot braincells like you would watching some of the Bay films, but I can't in good concious say that TF One is better than older things like Prime. It is a brilliant concept that needed more time. It needed probably a two and a half to three hour runtime to set up, to get the ball rolling in a meaningful manner, and to establish the broken friendships and rivalries in a far more intimate manner. The concepts are lovely, the scenes are well done, but its a pity that it was cut so short and so many things were shoved together when they could have shone on their own in the proper setting.

There was so much there, and yet so much missing. So many pieces that fit well and yet so much more that was cast aside altogether. It is an imperfect thing, but this movie isn't a bad introduction or addition to the Transformers franchise, not in the slightest. Its a new start, a chance to make things better for this fandom and its abysmal run of bad movie after bad movie developed in Bay explosion style topped with far too much emphasis on humanity.

I believe that while TF One isn't going to be my personal favorite, or even the next big thing for the time being, it sets a new standard. No longer can we be fed garbage, because now we've been given a chance to look at something better. Hopefully, TF One will set the groundwork and foundation for far better films and shows going forward, giving this fandom new life and redeeming our sullied name as the big explosion robot fanatics.

TF One is flawed, but its a start. It's a fledgling attempt to make something new and interesting in a show business that is dead set on killing creativity and squashing anything of quality in an attempt to press an ideology. It is the baby steps shown by people who care. People who want to see the movies they never got. I will not fault it or the creators for existing. It may not be Lord of the Rings, War for Cybertron, Transformers Prime, the comics, or other big names, but it is a hope for the future.

It's not a bad movie. It was simply born in a bad time.

With that said, I'd recommend watching it at least once, if only to get a glimpse of what we have gotten and to have hope for what we might get going forward. I certainly intend to fill in holes with fanfiction, but that's just part of fandom, is it not? Enjoy this new piece of media, but don't take it too seriously. It's flawed just like everything else, but can be taken for what gifts it brings.

"We could have built the future together."

"I'll build it myself, after I tear down everyone in my way."

[pluvialpoet]

bergamot

Summary: moments of quiet reflection reaffirm what you both already know to be true- he’s always going to come back, and you’re always going to be waiting with open arms

Pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader

Requested: no

Warning: idiots in love, friends to lovers, mutual pining, scarecrow's fear toxin, mentions of death and grief, slight angst, fluffy ending, loosely based off of batman: hush (2019)- but no major spoilers

Word Count: 3,930

masterlist

a/n: I know that dick has a tolerance against/is immune to scarecrow's fear toxin, but let's pretend he isn't...for the plot

Sleep is cruel in the way it continues to evade you when you crave it most. Mocking and teasing, exhaustion morphs into desperation. Even with your eyes shut dreams fail you, and nightmares taunt.

A siren wails, bellowing out into the night and echoing caution even after the initial cry has faded. Could be a police car, or an ambulance. Maybe even a fire truck. You try not to consider all of the possibilities, knowing it’ll only starve your slumber, further. With a huff, you adjust the heavy comforter, pulling it up until it bunches just under your chin.

In a few weeks, branches will be stripped of their leaves. Snow will fall, and the city will suffocate under a blanket of white. July was only yesterday, sticky and never-ending- infinite until finite. Now, January lurks around the corner- weeks away, but daunting, nevertheless.

The pillow tucked behind your back is a poor imitation of the brawn you wish feathers and fill could replicate, just as the one pressed to your chest acts as an imposter mimicking the body meant to be sleeping peacefully beside you. It’s impossible to tell feelings of loneliness apart from being alone, and deep down you know that reminiscence is merciless. Memory is wicked. But you can’t help remembering. It’s the only way you won’t forget- and even then, so much time has passed that you’ve begun to fade, and he’s begun to blur. Spiraling further and further away from reality and control, you drift towards hope, feeding each dangerous possibility until you have nothing left to give, but delusion takes and takes and takes…

Answers elude like comfort- and sleep. When, how, and why is lost upon you. He’s been gone for so long. Even so, your life has continued, evolving to accommodate the gaps he used to fill. Though, it’s about as effective as papier-mâchéing an open wound shut. Everywhere you look, everything you do, every time you shut your eyes, he finds a way to bleed into you, one way or another, and you welcome it every single time. All you really have are memories and a space in your bed which has always been his to come home to.

Outside, the wind howls. Angry and violent, the sound rattles the windowpane and you burrow deeper into the covers trying to block it out. Shadows dance across the ceiling, but none of them belong to the ghost you’ve been waiting for. Another frustrated huff fails to quell burning exhaustion, and you rub your eyes with the back of your hand before checking the clock next to you. Neon green flashes, all too pleased to report that it’s well past midnight and you haven’t gotten a wink of sleep. Already tomorrow, and you’re still mourning today.

Pushing the covers off, you shiver. There’s a chill in the air and little comfort to be found in the fact that the entire apartment feels cold and empty without him in it. At least it’s not just the bed. It’s the entire room, the hallway, and the kitchen, too. You reach for the light above the stove and begin to search the cupboards for a mug. If nothing else, at least a cup of tea will warm you up. Thanks to muscle memory, you act on autopilot, filling the ceramic with water and placing it in the microwave before picking a teabag and waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting, always waiting. Three monotone beeps call your attention back before it has another chance to wander away from you, and you retrieve the cup and place the teabag inside. Steeping time be damned.

You can’t wait any longer.

One leg curls under the other as you take a seat and bring the mug to your mouth. It burns the tip of your tongue, a small price to pay for your greed, and you swallow the too-hot liquid regardless of the consequences. The pain barely registers, anyway. With both palms pressed to the vessel, warmth finally finds you, and a barely contented huff passes your lips to blow the steam from the cup. It’s not always like this. It’s not supposed to be, but for so long, it has been. Never months, always weeks. You don’t know how to do this or how much longer you can put yourself through this torture when every sunrise twists the knots in your stomach tighter and tighter. How much longer until you snap?

You’re so tangled up in your suffering that you miss it the first time, until the hair on the back of your neck bristles. Did you imagine it? Silently, you wait, setting the steaming mug down to listen, and this time, you hear it. Faintly, but there. Real.

Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap tap tap.

I’m here. I’m safe. Can I come in?

Your feet move before the rest of your body does, and the chair scrapes loudly across the hardwood as you jump from it in shock. A cocktail of excitement, worry, disbelief, and fear bubbles and swirls through you when you spot a familiar glimpse of black and blue through the window near the fire escape.

“Dick?”

Crossing the room without any memory of doing so, you fiddle with the latch that keeps you from him, and him from you, until finally it clicks. With only one foot through the window, you reach for him, desperate to savor the illusion until mass, warmth and a heartbeat prove it to be real. Upon realizing, your breath hitches. He’s real. He’s real, and he’s here. No longer a dream. No longer a nightmare. No longer a vision only sleep can grant or mold, he stands before you. He takes a moment to properly slide the window shut behind him, returning the lock to its rightful position- keeping the rest of the world and the winter, out- before turning to face you once more. He can’t even get a word out before you’re pressed against him, wrapping your arms around him and holding yourself back from crushing him with the intensity of your longing. Overly cautious of injuries you can’t physically see- mindful of bruises, tears of flesh, and wounds that remain eclipsed by kevlar and moonlight- you embrace him with a hesitancy that severely undermines your fervor. Holding him gently- delicately, tenderly- the way you’ve dreamt about entwining with him on nights when sleep has been generous instead of cruel, you finally look up at him.

A sigh of relief dispels the hoarded tension in your neck, shoulders, and chest when you rest your head against his chest and inhale. Sweat and copper muddle his natural scent, but even when he’s covered in his victories, even when he’s drenched in his defeats, he still smells like home- warm, safe, familiar, and comforting.

He hesitates to envelop you with the same thinly veiled desperation, holding himself back.

Every muscle in his body carries the strain of battles fought and won. His head throbs with the force of his thoughts, and the inescapable dizziness that always accompanies crashing down from a high. Then again, he’s never been one to ease into things gracefully. Tiny cuts and scrapes, angry blacks and blues, and even gaping gashes that are still seeping and tender to the touch hardly register as anything other than a stinging, burning sensation. Everything is dull. Ferocity and intensity both subdued. Through the haze of everything that competes for his attention, you’re the one thing that’s clear. As always, the hold you have on him, both physical and metaphorical, brings him back to his senses, but doubt keeps him withdrawn.

Warily wrapping his arms around you, Dick returns the gesture as best as he can. Cages built of muscle, meant to keep you close, refuse to lock you in place, and he finds it increasingly difficult to resist surrendering to you entirely. Just as his nerves begin to settle they spike once more when the gravity of the past few months finally begins to sink in. As you continue to tremble in his arms, he swallows a lump in his throat and fights the urge to hold you impossibly closer. If he weren’t so afraid, he’d never let go again. But he’s not the same man he was the last time you saw him. Having seen too much, he knows that he can’t let this become something more. Fear is rotten. He’s seen the future, and if he keeps leaning on you then he’s only going to drag you down with him. Regardless of what he really wants, he won’t let this become something more, but then he looks down at you in his shirt and realizes it’s always been something more- and it terrifies him more than anything.

When pink swirls around the drain- a muted severity of soapy lather and remnants of crusted, oozing red- he rests his forehead against the cold tiles and lets out a deep sigh. He can’t remember the last time he’d had a proper shower. Under the trickling scorch, he allows his shoulders to slump forward, letting the too-hot water soothe his muscles like a balm, and it stings in a way he welcomes- a reminder that he’s done it again, he’s survived the worst and now he just has to survive the recovery.

He’s never been good with the after, always losing himself in possibilities of what comes next without taking a minute to catch his breath, but he’s trying to be better. He owes it to you. Not only you but himself, too- but mostly you. So, he tries to forget. He pushes memories too fresh to be forgotten somewhere else, banishing them to the far corners of his mind and locking them away until he’s ready to face his demons at his own pace, on his own terms, but his wicked creations fight back. Even when they’re crafted from delusions, mirroring real-life counterparts with a precision too exact to be a figmented replication, he finds himself engaged in an internal match that never crowns a victor. It’s a conflict that never ceases, even after his own surrender. Still, he’s found that the intrusions are less when copper is overpowered by citrus, and when red, inevitably swirls into pink.

Steam amplifies the smell of sweat and body odor, so pungent that the only word to describe it is bad, and he holds his breath while he reaches for your soap once more. He can’t believe you let him anywhere near you. It’s even more unfathomable that you sought an embrace, despite the remnants of battle that’ve woven themselves into his being- lingering, even long after. He’s repulsed by that which exposes him, a stench so strong that it serves as a testament to the fact that he reclaimed you as soon as he could, coming right back to this haven of sorts without any prior stops, and his stomach churns uncomfortably, the once soothing mist tainting each attempt at air, and a weight teases the aching muscles of his chest which breath does not alleviate.

Through the haze, he sees the truth- when reality remains undistorted by the tricks of his own want and longing, he recognizes fact without his own warped perceptions of fantasy- and he realizes just how careless he’s been. By allowing desire to suade better judgment, he’s put you at risk. Guilt punishes with an onslaught of emotions ranging from frustration to anger, sadness to grief, and even regret to sorrow. His own reluctance to accept how dangerous it was, and always has been, to lean on your affections as a crutch has finally caught up to him. After all that he’s seen, after everything he’s been forced to bear witness to over the past few months, coupled with a lifetime of loss, he’s no longer able to ignore the thought that’s broken free from the shackles of elsewhere. What was once dull, always there but never really forgotten, has become intense and persistent.

Every time he finds his way back to you, he invites peril into your life. He’s hazardous. Even if he’s not, being attached to him- in any way- puts you at an even greater risk of endangerment. Trying to justify something even as tame as a friendship is absurd. You’re so much more than that. Whether he meant for it to happen or not, you’ve found a place within his heart. Every beat echoes your name and carries secrets of his devotion. All that remains of the walls meant to protect both of you is rubble, and Dick stands alone in the epicenter of the aftermath, unsure and torn between chaos and order. Selfishly, he wants. Greedily, he craves. Morally, he knows that he should just walk away- but he can’t.

The scene shifts, ceramic tile falling away to reveal an eerie, yet familiar boneyard, and he shakes his head. It’s not real. It was never real- but it was so vivid. Cold fog obscures his vision, and he closes his eyes. This is a trick. This isn’t truth. He knows what comes next. Forced to indulge in his worst nightmares, the shrill, piercing sound of your terror renders him numb. He can’t move. Paralyzed, he fights limbs of lead, but he can’t act. It surrounds him, your agony, and he can’t do anything to save you. He can’t protect you. With each cry of his name, you plead, but there’s nothing he can do. When silence follows his ragged breaths, he refuses to look down. He hates this part the most, but he doesn’t have a choice. Crimson stains the black and blue weave, and he can taste metallic. He doesn’t have any control over this hallucination, born and bred from his greatest fear, and all he can do is witness the fallout of your shared torture- your blood on his hands, his body slumped against your tombstone, and the triumphant laughter of a clown, a scarecrow, a ventriloquist, and a hundred more that delight in your demise.

He can’t catch his breath. Drifting further and further away from reality, he struggles to claw his way back towards the light. When his vision begins to fade, he reaches for more soap. In for three counts, out for four. In for three counts, and out for four, again, Dick feels lightheaded. There’s no limit to how far he’d go to keep you safe, not a single rule or code he wouldn’t break to protect you from anything and everything- and that’s an entirely different threat, in and of itself. His loyalty has the potential to become his ruin, and he’d let it- for your sake- but would that be enough? Could his devotion be enough to keep you safe from the otherwise brutal fate that awaits you with, and without, his intervention?

The bite of a washrag leaves his skin raw. Lost to his thoughts, he’s been mindlessly scrubbing away at his flesh, dousing himself with bubbled distraction. Another breath fails to alleviate his unease. All he can think about is that which is out of his control, and he can’t help but wonder, is there even a chance for the two of you?

Every thought is a contradiction.

He could wax poetic to Bruce about love- how precious and fragile and conscious it is- but he can’t even bring himself to act upon his own advice. Even worse than following in a denialist’s footsteps is being a hypocrite, but there are just too many variables for him to take into account- too many what-ifs and maybe’s that enable him to cower behind words left unspoken.

In spite of this, he dares to dream of a future where you’re his and he’s yours, and nothing else matters. Lost to his delusions, a smile threatens to work muscles that’ve remained dormant for months of disuse. It hurts. Stretching, pulling, and manipulating his face to actually convey what he’s feeling instead of trying to veil it, hurts. However, the worst pain follows. As he reaches for the illusion, it slips through his fingers- so close he can almost hold it, yet just out of reach, simultaneously- and just like that, reality distorts the mirage. Pried from him, ripped away and sporting his claw marks, what could’ve been remains what could’ve been- and it’s all his fault.

Fear suppresses his love.

He’s already lost so much, he can’t lose this, too. He won’t. However glutinous, he craves more- even when he knows he can’t have it, he wants with a desire that’s almost too strong to ignore. Almost. Locking his feelings away, he throws away the key, but his ribs begin to expand with the intensity of his longing, and his chest feels tight. This isn’t like before. It seems as if his secrets have outgrown their cages, and he finds himself at a crossroads. His mind begins to drift and he wonders if this agony is why Bruce kept Selina at arm’s length…

A sigh, and a revelation- he’s not Bruce, and you’re not Selina.

Dick’s been going about this all wrong. Despite everything he’s been taught about love and loss, he’s allowed a life outside of a domino mask and kevlar. He deserves to cherish someone, to protect and devote himself to something other than his work- someone to fight for, someone to come home to- and he deserves to be beloved, too. Even if only for tonight. Even if tomorrow isn’t promised and all you have is right now, you’re here. On the other side of the frosted glass screen and plaster, you’re waiting for him. Another smile, less forced and genuine, feels like a relief instead of a burden. His skin pebbles under the frigid stream left in the wake of molten steam. With a shiver, he seeks your warmth, reaching for the faucet and stepping out of the enclosure.

A worn shirt rests atop the counter, the fabric faded from years of wear and wash, folded neatly beneath a pair of fresh boxers and socks likely left behind from the last time, or the time before that, or even the time before…truth be told, he thought he’d lost it, misplaced it, or given it away. Of course, you’ve had it in your care, all along. The corner of his mouth threatens to twitch into a smile. Slipping the towel from around his waist, he begins to dress, wondering when you managed to sneak in without him hearing you. The door used to creak, and he realizes that you must have fixed it while he was gone. It’s hard not to think about what else might’ve changed since the last time he saw you. Would you have stayed with him, if he asked you to? You always have. Six years and counting, he muses if you always will…

His hair is getting long, again. Droplets fall from the overgrown strands at the base of his neck down his back, making him shiver and reach for his towel once more. He pats his hair down, ruffling it with the towel a few times before wiping away at the mirror. Making eye contact with his reflection he’s the first to look away. He’s looked worse and supposes that's a small win in and of itself, though he can’t stand the sight of himself any longer than he has to. A deep exhale and a shake of his head diverts his attention to the countertop where a spare toothbrush has been left out for him to use. Of course, he already knows where the toothpaste is. He helps himself with a growing smile and places it in the holder right next to yours when he’s done. His chest expands with something he can’t quite name when he finds himself surrounded by gentle reminders of your care. A small cup of water and painkillers act as physical embodiments of your thoughtfulness and he revels in the knowledge that you’re letting him know you’re there for him while giving him space to come down from whatever adrenaline rush the past few months have spiked. It’s in those silent gestures of love that he hears it the loudest, echoing and amplifying all around him.

It must be killing you to act so selflessly, and he tries not to be selfish with your affections, but it’s difficult not to feel like a burden when you’ve rearranged more than just a spot on the counter, or a place for him to keep his toothbrush next to yours, for him- giving him a home without expecting anything else in return.

Down the hall, the mattress protests against his arrival, angry springs squeaking from months of disuse before welcoming his weight and warmth on the side opposite of yours- his side, from the very moment, years ago, when he found his way back to you after a night that left him bloody and beaten but not broken. Never broken- not when he’s always had you. Though most memory of the first evening spent beside you remains a blur, the ability to recall details and specifics stolen from him as his wounds wept crimson tears that stained your hands and upholstery, fondness prevails. Despite robbed recollections, tender warmth, and affection remain. Even then, he knew. Without really knowing, without certainty, he was certain- he loved you, and you loved him, and every gentle, devoted gesture has always reaffirmed the one thing he could never doubt. Every silent offering, every selfless sacrifice, and piece of yourself that you’ve surrendered to him further insists that your heart acts in favor of three words never spoken.

His arm finds your waist easily, and he’s grateful that he doesn’t have to tiptoe around his reluctance to accept what this is, anymore. Not when you’re here. Not when you’re waiting so patiently for him, and snuggle back into his hold the moment he reaches out for you. Some limbs tangle, but not yours- the two of you fit perfectly together, like you were truly meant to be, and the moment that you’re allowed to converge, you press your palm flat against his arm, holding him close to you.

Reacquainting yourself with him after is always your favorite part. Though, your heart cleaves when your fingertips ghost over a new scar- the skin still raised and angry, even if the wound has closed. With something akin to sympathy, an apology for the pain he’s suffered that you can’t take away, you gently trace the new mark in acknowledgment.

Tomorrow, or later today, when the sunlight illuminates the sky, you’ll ask him about it. Or, maybe you won’t. When the first glimpses of warm light threaten to spill over the horizon, you might get answers to the questions you’ve spent the last few months pondering. Or, perhaps everything unasked will remain unresolved. Either way, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the fact that tonight, you’ll sleep- safe and protected, at ease and engulfed by all things him- and even if it only lasts for the night, you’ll cherish whatever small moments of intimacy the moon grants before the sun, inevitably, rips them away- a fate you’ve grown to expect, time and time again.

Still, you let your eyes flutter shut, basking in the silence for only a moment before it’s interrupted.

“I love you,” Dick confesses softly, words warm and whispered against your shoulder encouraged by a fleeting moment of courage- and the tender caress of your touch- that prompt the secret to spill from his chest, an accident he fears he may have to render excuses for to salvage whatever broken pieces are left of this unspoken relationship.

“I know,” With your back towards him he misses the stretch of a smile ghosting your lips, and finds himself tensing behind you. Could you have really known? All this time? Is that why he always comes back? Is that why you let him? “I love you, too,”

“No, I mean, I really lo-“

“Tell me in the morning, yeah?” You suggest before he can get too far ahead of himself. Torn between wanting to clarify his confession and realizing that maybe he doesn’t have to, Dick relents. He can’t really argue, anyway- having kept this to himself for so many years, another few hours won’t hurt. With a breath- of acceptance, not defeat or surrender- he closes his eyes and finally relaxes into your embrace.

It’s over.

For now, Dick can rest easy knowing that when the smell of bergamot fades, this tacit love will always remain, and he finds enough comfort in the realization to let it lull him into a peaceful sleep.

a/n: I love him so much!!! this has been rotting in my brain for nearly a year and I just found it in my drafts last night lol! anyway, this started as a challenge to myself where I wanted to see if I could write something with only five lines of dialogue, and I'm curious to hear how you all think it turned out! as always, requests are open! check out my request guidelines before submitting! and if you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 

everyone who requested to be tagged: @idyllcy @wicked-laugh @ul4lume

Send me some feedback, or request to be added to my taglist! (please specify which taglist you’d like to be added to- character or general) !Requests: OPEN!

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[tedwardremus]

Gentle, Patient, and Devoted

Written for Jily Week 2024 hosted by @kay-elle-cee adn @sunshinemarauder

Prompt: Partners in Crime

Lily groaned softly as she heard the faint wail from the nursery. She turned over in bed, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. It was like Harry had a little timer built inside him when he was born because without failure, every time she felt she was about to succumb to the sweet, much-needed call for sleep, her newborn son would wail, reminding her (in a rather rude way if you asked her) that it was time to feed him again.

James, equally bleary-eyed, mumbled incoherently as he reached for his glasses on the nightstand and pushed himself up, muttering something about dreams and quidditch trophies.

"Alright, alright, I'm up," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He grabbed his wand from the nightstand and flicked it, lighting the way to the nursery with a soft glow.

Lily watched him go, her heart aching with a mix of exhaustion and affection. "If you need help..." she began, but James waved her off with a tired smile.

"I’ve got it, love. You rest," he replied, though they both knew he’d be back in a few minutes to hand Harry over so they could finish the feeding together.

"I’ve got it, love. You rest," James said softly, though both knew he’d be back in a few minutes to hand Harry over so they could finish the feeding together.

Lily lay back on the pillows, eyes closed, but her ears were tuned to the faint sounds of James's voice cooing to Harry from down the hall. His voice, low and soothing, as he rhythmically soothed their restless son, made her smile despite her exhaustion. James was a wonderful father—gentle, patient, and endlessly devoted. He had always been a loving husband, but something profound had shifted within him in the past few weeks. It was as if fatherhood had unlocked a new depth in him, revealing the person he was always meant to be. He had evolved into a devoted, nurturing parent, making Lily fall in love with him all over again.

As expected, James returned a few minutes later, cradling Harry in his arms. "He’s settled a bit, but he’s definitely hungry," James whispered as he gently handed Harry to Lily, careful not to disturb the baby more than necessary.

Lily took their son, her arms automatically adjusting to support him as she began to nurse. James sat beside her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as he watched, his eyes soft with a mix of awe and love.

Even though she had never been this tired, it was still an amazing thing to witness—Harry’s tiny fists resting on her chest, the slurps, gurgles, and sighs that came from his little mouth. His features were becoming more and more like James’s every day.

"One day," Lily said softly, brushing a finger along Harry’s tiny cheek, "he’ll sleep through the night. And we’ll actually get some sleep, too."

James chuckled quietly. "Yeah, and then we will probably look back at all this with some kind of misguided parental nostalgia. We’ll moan about how much we miss this, late nights with the three of us.”

Lily smiled, leaning her head against James’. "We’re doing alright, aren’t we?"

"We’re doing great," James replied, kissing her temple. "We’ve got this."

[himasgod]

Xiao x Reader

Where you rescue him, finding him defeated, and he swears to protect you.

(Today and yesterday I felt like writing about Xiao, so we have a double Xiao's one shot day hehe)

The night in Dihua Harsh was oppressive. The air was heavy with the dampness of mist and the metallic scent of ancient battles. In the background, echoes of distant wailing resounded, as if the shadows themselves were witnesses to the unquenchable hatred of the Archon War. Amidst those shadowy echoes, he stood, throwing his spear at invisible shadows, caught in a rut of endless violence. Xiao, the Yaksha Alatus, protector of Liyue and lone guardian.

The weight of his karmic debt tightened on his chest like an invisible poison, enveloping him in darkness. That night, the burden was particularly heavy, and each blow of his spear wore more on his spirit than his body. The last ghostly whisper dissipated, but Xiao felt no relief. He collapsed to the swamp floor, kneeling and gasping, as pain consumed him.

Then, a voice broke the silence.

“Are you… okay?”

It was a cautious murmur, almost inaudible through the mist. Looking up, Xiao saw you, a spark of alarm flashing through his golden gaze. There was no way a mortal could be here, so close to him and the dark forces lurking in his presence. Yet there you were, staring at him with a mix of unease and compassion.

“Stay away. You have no idea what you’re doing,” he told you, his tone full of warning. But you didn’t move. You knew it was dangerous to approach someone like him, a warrior shrouded in dark legends and struggles that mortals could barely understand. Yet worry kept you from taking a step back.

Xiao looked at you, surprised by your boldness and, deep down, by the familiarity of that gesture of kindness, something he had almost forgotten.

“I don’t need… your compassion,” he whispered, looking away. However, he didn't stop looking at you with his tired golden eyes, as if deep down he was asking for some rest.

So the moment he collapsed, you picked him up and carried him to Wangshu Inn.

One year later, since that meeting in the swamp, Xiao had kept his distance, watching you from the shadows during each day. Although he never came close, the memory of that night continued to resonate in him. Something in your gaze, in the delicacy of your words, had left a mark on his soul, a mark that, instead of causing him pain, seemed to illuminate his darkness.

On one of those nights, he saw you throw a lantern into the river. He could not hear your wish, but his heart sensed it: a prayer for peace, for the protection of someone you did not fully know, but in whom you believed. Xiao felt the loneliness that had accompanied him for centuries crack slightly, like a wall fracturing before the warmth of a persistent flame.

A strange, almost uncontrollable impulse led him to appear before you that night. His face maintained the same stoic expression as always, but something different shone in his golden eyes.

“Why do you insist on coming back here?”

He asked, his voice filled with confusion and a slight trace of anxiety. You could see the wear and tear on his features, the weight of each battle etched in every line of his expression.

“Because someone I hold dear needs to remember that he is not alone,”

You answered softly. He looked up and for a moment, hesitated, almost hoping that the darkness around him would drive you away. But you did not back away, and the reflection of the lantern light in your eyes was enough to keep his heart anchored in a place that no longer felt so gloomy.

“My duty is to protect Liyue,” he murmured, as if he were reminding himself of his purpose. But the words sounded empty even to him, because in your presence, reasons seemed to change, to evolve into something more than just duty.

With a barely audible sigh, he took a step towards you, getting close enough for the coldness of his presence to be dispelled by the warmth you emanated. The loneliness he had known, that had enveloped him for so long, was broken with every second he spent at your side, even if he himself could not quite admit it.

Finally, with a tremor in his voice, he confessed:

"Your words… that light… is the only thing that reminds my soul that there is something beyond the darkness."

And then, he extended his hand, brushing your cheek with a tenderness that almost seemed impossible for someone like him. The touch was light, almost as if he did not want to leave a mark, but in his gaze there was an intensity that spoke of centuries of loneliness dissipating at a simple gesture of humanity.

"I will protect you"

He said finally, with a firmness that did not accept doubts. Because in your presence, Xiao had found a purpose that, although uncertain and fearful of losing, filled him with a peace hadnt felt in millenia.

The light from your lantern flickered in the wind, but neither you nor Xiao looked away.

On that night in Dihua Harsh, a Yaksha and a mortal met and for an eternal instant, the loneliness seemed to fade away.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[nonamenonamenon]

It's a rainy day in the human world when Solomon attends your funeral. You're surrounded by the brothers, the angels, and the friends you made during your time in the Devildom.

It's a bit cliché, he thinks. How time seems to stop. How the skies seem to weep at your death, too. It feels as though all three realms mourn at the loss of such a special life��� your life.

Though, who wouldn't?

You're surrounded by people you've saved. The people you cherish, and those that cherish you back. Those who've come to experience the kindness you lent to demons, angels, humans, reapers, and other creatures alike. The amount of people saddened, and standing at your casket right now is only proof of that fact.

Solomon can't bring himself to cry.

It's something that he should be used to by now. It's something that he's a little too used to, given his long life.

It's not as if he expected himself to wail and sob at your death. He loved you. He loved you so much. He'd be willing to risk everything for you. Willing to sacrifice it all for you.

It's why the lack of any real feeling at learning of your death hurts him so much.

When you had died, his first thought was to tell his dearest apprentice the news. The realization sets in, and he laughs, thinking about how idiotic he is. Oh, Solomon. You've lost the only person you were ever truly comfortable with.

He doesn't feel... sad. Or angry. Or anything, really. He feels empty. Like a part of his soul had been taken from him, and crushed beneath someone's heel.

The sorcerer merely accepts it. It's not as if he can bring you back to life now, can he? Even Thirteen couldn't do anything.

He feels powerless. He laughs a little to himself. The strongest sorcerer in all three realms, and he's utterly powerless to stop you from leaving him again.

He's got so many regrets. He didn't think he spent enough time with you. Didn't think he told you he loved you enough. He didn't cherish the times he had with you enough.

Still, he doesn't feel anything well up in his eyes. He doesn't feel the lump in his throat when he speaks. He's composed, cordial with the other guests at your funeral, even daring to greet them with a smile. The others, who didn't know him so well, sent him dirty, disgusted looks.

He ignores, and ignores, until the funeral comes to an end, and time continues to move again. Everyone will soon move on with their life, forgetting about you. And it breaks him to think about how he'll have to keep moving forward, regardless, too.

Solomon doesn't use teleportation when he walks home. He thinks he'll take his time today. He... wants to take things a little slow, today.

Walking home, he remembers your little lectures on human superstitions. Both of you had taken an interest in them back then, so it naturally came up in a conversation while walking home.

He remembers you mentioning one in particular. It was something related to stopping somewhere after a funeral, to 'shake off' any spirits that may have followed.

He can't remember. It felt like he was just walking home, conversing with you, but how come he's unable to remember?

Anyway, you told him, jokingly, that if you'd ever died, to go somewhere else before stopping home, or else you'd haunt him for life.

He thinks it wouldn't be such a bad idea. His pace speeds up a bit. Solomon wanted to take it slow, but... he wants to rest at home for a bit.

His brisk walking pace evolves into somewhat of a light jog. He remembers he left some important papers at home that he needed to review for a new spell.

His light jog turns into a full blown sprint home. What was he hoping for, exactly? That you'd appear there as an apparition, welcoming him back home, like normal?

What a joke.

It's just some dumb superstition. It's not real. You won't be back.

He arrives at the door of your shared home. He's scared. Scared to open the door and have it fully set in that you're gone. Scared, that your lack of presence there will turn your shared home into just a mere house.

He fiddles with the key in his hand, and inserts it into the doorknob. He twists, and he hears a click.

He opens the door. The lights are shut. The movies you were supposed to watch and games you were supposed to play together are still stacked messily on the table. Your dirty clothes are still strewn about the apartment.

He doesn't... know how to feel. He enters, closing the door behind him, and sits on the couch in your living room.

If he waits any longer, will the lights start blinking?

Will the tap suddenly start running?

Will the room get colder, as he feels chills run down his spine?

Will something break, so suddenly, that it frightens him a little?

He wishes for something, anything, to happen. Just so he can feel your presence in your home again. Just so it doesn't feel like you're truly gone.

But nothing ever arrives.

The floorboards don't creak. The lights don't start flickering. The door doesn't move, suddenly. Nothing. Nothing happens.

After an hour of waiting, Solomon... breaks.

He breaks.

Tears well up in his eyes, and he feels that unfamiliar lump in his throat. It's as if a dam had fractured, and had been continuously breaking throughout the day.

And everything had started spilling out.

He cries. Solomon cries. He feels his tears drip down his face, drop after drop. It's not something he's used to. He's not used to feeling so strongly about a death like yours.

You passed of natural causes. Just like everybody else. Just like his family. Just like most of his friends.

How come... how come he's crying so hard at your death, then?

It's something he should be used to by now. It's something that he's used to.

However, when he feels the lack of warmth, the lack of life, the lack of you in your shared home...

Solomon realizes that he'll never get used to not having you with him.

[robo-writing]

Thigh Riding with the FFXVI Boys

Rating: 18+ Pairings: Reader/Clive Rosfield, Reader/ Cidolfus Telamon, Reader/ Barnabas Tharmr, Reader/Joshua Rosfield Author's note: I had some vile thoughts about Clive's thighs, which evolved into this. I truly have no shame.

Clive Rosfield

You’re both lying in your shared bed chambers, what started as a chaste kiss soon turned into more, the heated exchange leaving you aching for more. His lips assault your own, large hands bringing you closer and closer into his lap as you grind against him.

“Founder, you’ll kill me,” he groans with a smile, rolls his eyes as you straddle his leg. 

“Come on Clive,” you whine. Dragging yourself higher and higher on his thick thighs. “Lemme ride you? Please? I promise it’ll feel good, just let me—”

A clench of his thigh and you shut up, whatever you were going to say interrupted with a cry of his name.

Clive shakes his head, holds you down and moves your body faster. “This is your punishment, for being a tease the whole day—”

You’re aware of your actions, how you had bent over in his favorite sundress, pressed your ass against him as he walked past and let him wanting in the middle of the hideaway. Even so you beg for forgiveness, cradling his head between your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you plead, kissing at his jaw. “I just wanted to mess with you a little, please—”

“You certainly did,” he grunts, watching your body shake with fascination. “And now you reap the rewards. You come like this or not at all, understand?”

You want to argue, but his steel gaze makes your words die on your tongue. Another whine, your hips move on their own, faster and faster still. Pawing at his bare chest, the hard plane serving as an anchor as he manhandles you.

He swallows every noise you make, every high-pitched sob and wail you make only spurring him further. “What’s wrong? Can’t take what you dish out?”

There’s a cruel laugh that leaves him, but you’re too far gone to care, aching for more until his fingers find your clit.  You fall to ruin with his name on your lips, your release dripping against his thighs. 

You share a moment of calm, breaths entangling with each other, the silence broken when his cock presses at your entrance.

Strained, he sighs into your mouth. “You’ll be the death of me,” before flipping you onto your back.

Cidolfus Telamon

When Gav mentioned Cid needed you in his solar you had an idea of his intentions, but you never expected to find him shirtless in his chair, legs spread.

“I was just thinking about you,” he said as you entered. Fully turned and beckoning you toward him, his voice invites you closer.

“Here, come take a seat on your commander's lap.”

He’s a tease to the highest degree, you knew this already, but he still manages to surprise you. You look to his legs, and back to him, biting your lip in hesitation. 

“Come now,” he drawls, patting his leg. “I know you’re interested.”

Damn him and his smug grin because he’s right, and it only grows wider when you walk forward. One step, and then another, his eyes follow you closely as you straddle his leg, finding just the right spot that makes your breath catch in your throat.

Observant as he is, he feels your reaction, leans in close to say: “Right there?”

He moves your hips just slightly and you answer with a sigh. “Yes, right there.”

He makes a noise in agreement, and then rocks you back and forth, drawing out the cutest moans from your lips.

“Told you it’d feel nice,” he sighs. His voice echoes in your ears, makes your body hotter as he drags his thigh against your pussy. 

“Suppose that’s all you need then,” he teases. His hands grip your ass tighter when you grind into him. You’re lost in the feeling of the soft leather against your clit, your head hanging down as you pick up the pace.

Don’t, don’t say that—” you gasp, whimpering when he lands a slap to your rear.

“That’s not what it looks like to me.” Another slap echoes through the air. “Seems to me you’re enjoying yourself plenty. Willing to bet I don’t even need to fuck you, just let you sit pretty on my lap just like this—”

His leg rises higher and higher, laughing as you tremble above him. “I’m right aren’t I?”

Grunts bounce off the walls, a rhythm forming between the two of you. “Don’t even need my cock, do you?”

“I do,” you moan, uncaring of how loud you are. “I need it, please—”

“What was that?” He huffs, bites at your neck and licks at the marks he leaves behind. “I can’t hear you dear, speak up.”

“I need your cock, please Cid!” you cry, holding onto his shoulders. Your legs burn with exhaustion, back arching into his touch. He bounces his thigh once, twice, growling in your ear as he does.

“Come for me love, and I’ll let you have it.”

There’s a moment when your body goes numb, before you become awash with emotion. He comforts you through your orgasm, mumbling praise as you press yourself into his hold, shaking.

A moment of quiet, you feel the press of his bulge against the side of your leg as he speaks.

“That was only the beginning, we still have the rest of the night.”

Barnabas Tharmr

Sleipnir informed you that Barnabas would be missing all day, with him being unable to return until nightfall. Diplomatic duties, he called it, and even though you knew it was a requirement of being king of your own nation, you couldn't help but feel just the slightest bit lonely. That loneliness soon turned to longing, and when he left you alone in your shared bed to continue his work, that longing turned to lust.

You knew he was busy, but you didn’t really care. You wanted to see your husband, manners be damned.

Your entrance is announced with the gentle creaking of the door. Instantly his head lifts to admonish, only for his gaze to soften at the sight of you.

“My love, what are you doing here?” He asks, neck deep in a stack of papers. He usually looks exhausted, but it’s as if the sight of you alone gives him a boost of energy. 

Wordlessly he opens his arms and you stride toward him, falling into his embrace. He holds you tight, breathes in your scent and sighs blissfully.

“I’ve missed you, my king,” you mumble in his hair, your voice carrying an all-too familiar whine to it.

“Is that so?” He chuckles, watches you nod with a pout on your lips. “I apologize for neglecting you, my dear. As you can see, I have been otherwise occupied.”

He waves towards the messy stack of documents half-heartedly before looking back to you.

“I know, I know,” you agreed. You move to sit onto his lap and he lets you, the feeling of his warm hands against your waist making your body relax. “Couldn’t you take a break? For me?”

For once you take advantage of your charms, give him the best doe-eyes you can and stroke his jaw. There’s a moment of weakness, the temptation to give in visible in his eyes, but he soon shakes his head.  “Unfortunately I cannot.”

The disappointment is visible on your face. A kiss to your temple does little to help.

A beat, he takes your chin between his fingers and gives you a sinful smile. “I have an idea, if you’re interested.”

You nod, following the movement of his body. He relaxes further in his chair, pulling you forward.

“I can’t stop my work, however…”

He shifts, places you fully onto his leg and purrs into your ear.

“...you are free to take what you need.”

He looks at you expectantly, your facing getting hot at the implication. Your eyes flick between him and your position, easing yourself onto the thick muscle with a languid pace. Slow, calculated, you glide onto him until your lust catches up with you, burying your face in his chest as you rock back and forth.

“That’s it…” he coos, leaving a kiss to your cheek before working on his papers once more. “Behave, and when I’m done I will make sure you’re taken care of.”

Back and forth, you move erratically, and even though his eyes are on his paperwork his attention is on you, the slight bounce to his leg bringing you to new heights. You whine into his tunic, a familiar heat blossoming in your core.

He takes notice immediately, holds you down and presses you further as he clenches his leg, comforting you as you shake and shudder on top of him, struggling for breath.

“Such a pretty sight, my beautiful queen falling apart.” he mutters, his eyes ripped from whatever he was doing before to watch you. You’re certain you’ve left a mess of his pants, but he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest. 

“I barely have to touch you, desperate thing that you are.” he hums. His words bring you to completion, thighs shaking with the force of your orgasm. His strong hand rubs your back when you collapse on top of him, kissing at your face and tasting the sweat from your brow.

“So well behaved,” he quipped, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Now, are you satisfied or would you rather I lend my efforts?”

Joshua Rosfield

When Joshua suggested trying something new in the bedroom you were on board immediately. You fully trusted him heart and body, but you will admit, you had your doubts in the beginning.

“So, I just sit?” You ask. He nods excitedly, beckons you close and pats his leg. You follow, letting yourself settle into his embrace.

“You trust me, right?”

“I do, it’s just…a little simple, don’t you think?”

He kisses away your doubt, your body relaxing under his touch. “Have I ever left you unsatisfied?”

The answer comes to you easily. “No, but—“

He interrupts you with another kiss. “Then trust that I will not start now.”

And so he kept his promise, within minutes you were helplessly moaning into his mouth, descending into madness with each push and pull, his hands glued to your waist.

Somewhere between begging him for more and crying out his name you apologized for ever doubting him.

The desire you feel suffocated you, grips you tight and doesn’t let go. A particularly hard bounce has your eyes closed in pleasure before Joshua brings your attention back to him.

“Don’t close your eyes dear, look at me,” he whispers. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, but you look up anyway and stare through half-lidded eyes.

“There you are, that’s it,” he gasps. “I knew you could do it.”

He surges forward, capturing your lips as you squirm on his lap. He swallows every noise you make greedily, a desire to consume your very being. His fingers sneakily find your clit and circle the sensitive nub, forcing you to pull away and cry out in bliss.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he coos. “I’ve got you, just let go for me.”

You do as he asks, letting your juices run down his leg. Your hips stutter against him, body soon falling limp and succumbing to pleasure. Your mind still feels heavy with lust, mouthing half-finished sentences until you can manage to catch your breath.

“Where the hells did you learn that?” you mumble.

He chuckles at your weakened state, running his hands across your body. “I may have heard Cid mention the idea.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Your laughter falls in sync with his as he speaks. “Even so, I thought it was interesting. I enjoy looking at you. It’s not everyday I get to witness someone so pretty.”

Your face runs hot at his words. “You see me every day though.”

He places a chaste kiss on your lips. “And yet it’s never enough.”

He maneuvers you onto the bed, crawls between you and plays with the waist of your underwear.

“Now, be a dear and let me see more.”

[sh1-n0bu]

Hi!

Is it okay for me to request a sub xiao?

Where the reader continues to edge him and tug at his collar prasing him.

and then at the end completely overstimulates him and praises him.

Can the reader call xiao cute petnames too?

like good boy, cutie, sweetie and etc please?

♡︎ 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙮 ♡︎

characters: sub!xiao x nb!dom!reader

warnings: collaring, praise, dacryphillia, overstimulation, edging, small hints of corruption, light petplay, cock can be read as strap on, reader is an immortal but what they are can be completely up to you.

notes: forgive me nonnie, i took so long to write this😔i’m starting to think writer’s block is catching up to me

nevermind. all i needed was to see xiao on the official stream break to get motivated again😍❗️

you and xiao first met centuries ago, shortly after the archon war has ended, the seven seats of the heavenly principles had gotten their victors. when you had first ran into the yaksha the poor thing was caught up in his own karmic debt, suffering the consequences of his own actions, writhing in agony. he tried to push you away but you were a thousands year old immortal who has seen everything teyvat had to offer.

the beginning of you two’s relationship was definitely odd and trippy for sure. however over time, when xiao figured out you were immortal just like him, he slowly began to open up. first it started with simple little talks and grunts, then the full blown chatting about everything phase began. soon that evolved to you and xiao opening up to each other about your pasts, deeds, mistakes and successes. and before you two could even understand the relationship you two have is what humans call “romantic love”, there you two were, holding each other close, stripping each other naked, learning about all sorts of pleasure.

it took a long time just for xiao to start talking with you, so of course sex life was incredibly slow and gentle between you and the yaksha. but slowly the more nights you spend with xiao, the more you realized he really enjoys being referred to as “kitty”.

at first it your thousands year old stubborn self found it odd since from what xiao told you, his true form is that of a bird’s not a cat. however soon you grew to love it for the sight of the cold and unstoppable yaksha, being reduced to a crying, babbling mess underneath you, clinging to you tightly and begging for you to fill him up was greatly addicting. which is what led to now.

“AANH~! nyaah! [n-nameee]…” whining and sobbing your name loudly with his red eyeliner running down his cheeks, xiao pawed at your finger curled around the soft collar around his neck. you’ve been forcing him to continue riding your cock for hours and it fucking hurt. not to mention your other hand was wrapped around the tip of his cock, toying with the tip slightly before putting your thumb over the slit of his cock when it starts to twitch violently. his poor tiny cocklet was already an angry red, twitching whenever your thumb would circle over the sensitive, slick tip.

“it’s alright kitty. keep riding me. you’re doing such an amazing job, kitty” cooing soft praises and tugging on the collar around his neck again to guide his hips to slam down onto your cock, you ignored his sobs and pleas for you to let him cum. it feels better, he knows that! but he just can’t help but be so greedy!

your big, fat, cock rearranging his insides, splitting his ass open, your voice cooing honeyed words into his ear, your hand teasingly, painfully rubbing at the slit of his twitching, red cock was just all too much for him. even though it’s not the first time you two are having sex, it feels like it is.

to the tiny, trembling, wailing yaksha on your lap, your dick just makes his eyes roll to the back of his skull, reaching places he never thought was even there. it just hits on all the right spots so good and his mind can’t comprehend the praises flowing out of your mouth.

noticing how your sweet boyfriend’s head was already fucked stupid with his hazy eyes and gibberish nonsense, you smiled sweetly before finally letting go of his cock. holding onto his waist tightly before thrusting up into his sloppy hole, creating more loud, wet, squelching sounds you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“aaannhg~! nyaAAH~! t-there—sho good! [name]—sho good♡︎” blabbering drunken words, he couldn’t even hear you calling him sweet nicknames at all. finally cumming all over his and your tummy with a loud squeal when you harshly thrusting up into his sensitive spot, your lovely kitty fell on top of your chest, shuddering and twitching, too lost in the pleasure. managing to only weakly whimper when you continued to fuck into his wet hole before mewling when he felt the familiar warmth of your cum shooting into his walls.

patting him on his head and cradling his trembling tiny body, you whispered another praise before cuddling him close.

“good kitty♡︎”.

[bones4thecats]

➸ Frontline; RoR! Thor × Goddess! S/O

Characters: Thor A/N: This was so cute to write. It turned out slightly different than intended, but I like it regardless. Anyways, enjoy! ➥ Summary: When sent out to deal with a newly developed Jötunn invasion, Thor runs into a new Goddess. Could this be the start of a beautiful relationship? Or possibly the start of a tear in the Norse Pantheon?

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Thor ═════════════════════════════════╝

🌩️ While the Gods discussed in the room, a large-figure walked down the halls. There was no sign of a smile on his face, complete darkness covering his eyes as everything evolved

🌩️ It was a mere few days ago that the Norse Pantheon received news that the Jötunn had invaded once again. The Gods was fearful that they could possibly overpower the not-nearly experienced fighters around and possibly destroy everything in their paths

🌩️ The God of Thunder and his father on the other hand, declared that it would be pointless to just sit by in fear and leave any room open for the large-monsters to come in through. Odin had told his son to ready himself for battle in the next few days

🌩️ Thor just nodded and stood, grabbing his hammer, and walking out of the room towards the exit. He knew what his father meant. Hunt those bastards down and end them as fast as you can. And disobeying his father and missing such a fight is something Thor just couldn't do

🌩️ As he walked through the forests surrounding Asgard, Thor heard something from afar. Looking upwards from the ground, his hood slightly moved from the wind. Above the treeline was a decent amount of large, disfigured heads. It appears the Jötunns were closer to Asgard than he initially figured they'd be

🌩️ Gripping his hammer tighter, Thor jumped in the air. Every swing resulted in bursting one of the monster's heads, causing blood to splash everywhere, even on the God, as he swung

🌩️ Thor had managed to take down many Jötunns, but there were even more than predicted as well. Around maybe tens of hundreds. Honestly, it was impressive how they managed to jumble together with enough brains to not try killing each other for walking the wrong way

🌩️ The God of Thunder narrowed his eyes and threw his weapon at the giants. It had gone through nearly six of their bodies before it was knocked away by one of the Jötunns. Thor's eyes widened in surprise and caught the flying-hammer quick enough so it wouldn't fly off

🌩️ He looked at Mjolnir and furrowed his eyebrows, glaring down at the monsters with growing fury. They had never, ever, been this hard to deal with. They must have been evolving from the many years of the Gods taking their kind out for trying to take them out themselves

🌩️ All of a sudden, one of the Jötunns dashed to make it above Asgard's walls, but, before Thor could get there, its head exploded. But, instead of there being Odin, there floated a woman

"You need some help there, dear?" The female said.

🌩️ Oh great. And she was arrogant.

🌩️ Thor huffed slightly and threw Mjolnir at another giant's head, making it smash and blow blood everywhere. The woman just smiled and jumped out of the way easily, though she did manipulate the branches of a nearby tree to come up and block the blood with its leaves, successfully saving Asgard from cleaning their streets and buildings of the red-bodily fluid

"Not a talker. Understood." She joked.

"You dare oppose the Jötunns, Goddess? We will have your carcass for such a grievous insult!" A Jötunn yelled.

🌩️ The woman with a ponytail smirked and laughed, her hand covering his eyes as she leaned backwards

"I'd like to see you try laying one of your mold-growing hands on me."

"Why you-"

🌩️ Thor blinked in surprise again as you cut the beast's hand off with your sword, making it wail in pain as you smirked larger and began to cut its face apart happily. You were just as, if not more, sadistic when fighting like Thor was

🌩️ When you finally stopped harming the Jötunn, you looked up at the rest, who just gulped and ran off in fear. You had made them flea with just knocking down one of them without any mercy. He'd have to take some notes there

"Anyways, now that this is over," you began, looking up at the God above you. "Aren't you gonna introduce yourself to the little-lady?"

🌩️ Nodding, Thor held out his right hand, transferring Mjolnir to his opposite, left, hand out of habit.

"I'm Thor, God of Thunder of the Norse Pantheon and son of Pantheon-Leader, Odin." You smiled and shook his hand happily, slightly bouncing as he watched.

"Well, Thor, God of Thunder of the Norse Pantheon and son of Pantheon-Leader, Odin. My name is Y/N, Goddess of Nature and the Feminine Warriors of the Norse Pantheon. Pleasure meeting you!"

[podiumackles]

the moments that stay (they turn out all wrong)

In which the man she could never forget suddenly turns up at her cell, but he has no remembrance of the woman in front of him. And the moments that stayed with her for decades, turn out to be her memories only.

series masterlist

CHAPTER 3

A/N: English isn't my first language!! apologies in advance.

Outlines: After being his sidekick in Payback for years, you-better known as your supename Fury-ended up on the same end of Soldier Boy's violence as every other person. What you didn't realise, however, was that your old team had set you both up for betrayal, right when you thought you were helping them in getting him. After decades of being stuck in Vought's testing lab, you heard Soldier Boy got out. But the man who appeared in front of your cell wasn't the man you knew.

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of slight gore, mentions of blood, mentions of death, and possibly wrong storytelling in lines of the canon events. I'm not that good at remembering, guys. and the boys was just kinda complicated. forgive me.

Present

Getting out of your cell was easier than expected. The hard part was getting out of the facility alive; about twenty minutes into the escape, alarm bells rang out like a symphony of dread, filling the cold, sterile corridors. It wasn’t surprising, really—Vought’s security wasn’t going to let you walk out unharmed. Still, for the first time in decades, your wrists were free from the biting restraints, and adrenaline surged through your veins.

You ran alongside Butcher, who seemed to have an uncanny knack for navigating the labyrinthine facility. His movements were sharp and purposeful. It was clear he had done his homework on this place, even if Vought’s playbook was constantly evolving. Soldier Boy was ahead, his broad shoulders cutting a path through the narrow hallways like a battering ram.

“Thought you said you had this under control!” you shouted over the wail of the alarms, your voice rusty but gaining strength.

Butcher smirked, barely winded. “Oh, this? Bit of noise never hurt nobody.”

Ben shot a glance back at the two of you, his shield gripped tightly in one hand, his jaw clenched. He looked as though he was barely holding himself together—rage simmering just beneath the surface. You couldn’t blame him. Whatever memories Vought had buried inside him, they still left scars. And now, the sound of blaring alarms running through his ears, must trigger his fight or flight response. There was no doubt about it.

“We need to hit the control room,” Butcher said, his voice urgent now. “Shut down the security before they send the big guns.”

You and Soldier Boy exchanged a glance. His eyes still carried that haunting vacancy, but a flicker of something else—recognition, maybe—crossed his face. He jerked his head forward, signalling for you to keep moving. Old habits died hard. Even after everything, he still acted like a leader.

The trio turned a sharp corner just as a squad of Vought soldiers appeared at the other end of the corridor. You didn’t hesitate. Throwing yourself to the floor, you slid behind a row of metal crates, while Soldier Boy charged forward like a freight train. His shield crashed against the soldiers, sending them flying, their weapons useless against his brute force and super healing.

Butcher stayed low, pulling a gun from his coat and taking a few well-placed shots, neutralizing the ones that hadn’t already been knocked out cold by Ben. The man moved with ruthless precision, not a shred of hesitation in his actions. You wondered how many people like you and Ben he’d already dealt with, how much he’d seen. But that was a question for later. For now, survival was your only priority.

“Clear,” Butcher muttered, nodding for you to get up.

“We won’t have much time,” you said, still catching your breath. The alarms were one thing, but Vought had been keeping an eye on every single corner of the facility with the carefully hidden cameras around the building.

“Yeah, no fucking shit,” Ben muttered, shaking off some dust mixed with blood from his shield as if this were a regular Tuesday for him. “Where’s this control room?”

You pointed ahead. “Up two floors. We take the stairs—elevator’s a death trap.”

Your mind was racing with thoughts of escape. But there was another gnawing question you couldn’t shake: Why were they here, really? Why you?

As the three of you burst through the stairwell door and ascended the steps, your legs burning with the effort, you felt the weight of the years clawing at you. Your muscles were stiff, your body weak from disuse, but the rage—the fury—inside you was enough to keep you moving. You were sick of being someone else’s pawn.

Suddenly, Ben stopped at a landing, holding out his arm. You froze, instinctively falling back into soldier mode. “What is it?” you whispered.

“Listen.”

You strained your ears, and sure enough, your superhearing enhanced the heavy clank of footsteps echoing from above. A lot of footsteps.

“They’re sending the backup troops,” You muttered. “They think we’re trapped.”

Butcher grinned, something dark and predatory in his eyes. “Let ‘em come. They don’t know what’s comin’ for ‘em.”

You tightened your fists, feeling the heat of your powers surging just beneath your skin. It hurt, just the slightest. It had been so long since you had the chance to use them—so long since you’d felt anything beyond the dull ache of confinement.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Butcher asked, glancing at you with an eyebrow raised.

You looked him dead in the eye, trying to hide your hesitation. “Always am.”

The first wave of guards came pouring down the stairs, fully armed, faces masked. Without hesitation, Ben launched himself into the fray, shield gleaming as it smashed into the front line. Butcher followed, a pistol in one hand and a combat knife in the other, carving through the chaos.

You stood back for a moment, feeling the pulsing heat build in your hands, until finally, with a sharp exhale, you unleashed it. Energy—wild, untamed wind—exploded from your palms, sending the next wave of soldiers crashing back into the walls. The surge felt powerful, like shaking off the chains that had weighed you down for years.

But most of all, it was stronger than it ever had been. The most powerful you had ever felt. And you barely dared to admit that it scared you.

Ben glanced back, eyes wide for the briefest of moments when he looked at you before he returned to dispatching the remaining guards.

“Not bad,” Butcher commented, smirking through the chaos. Though an unfamiliar look crossed his eyes.

Once the stairwell was clear, the three of you sprinted up the last flight of steps and into the corridor leading to the control room. You could hear more guards closing in behind you, but the door ahead was just within reach. With a mighty kick, Soldier Boy knocked it open, and the three of you burst into the room, slamming the door shut behind you.

Two of Vought’s employees shot around in their chairs, a look of horror flashed on their innocent faces right before Soldier Boy lifted his shield, moved it at the height of their necks and-

Two heads rolled over de floor.

The air was thick with tension, punctuated by the shrill wails of the alarms still echoing through the facility. The walls were lined with glowing monitors, displaying a maze of surveillance footage, flashing red warnings, and floor plans. This was the heart of Vought’s operations.

Butcher wasted no time, moving swiftly to one of the terminals. He began typing with a speed and confidence that suggested this wasn't his first time hacking into a heavily fortified system. Meanwhile, Ben paced near the door, shield in hand, his eyes darting between you and the hallway as if expecting another wave of soldiers any second.

You, however, stood frozen for a moment, taking in the room—the remembrance of decades of torment, experimentation, and manipulation. You thought you’d feel more relief standing here, so close to freedom, but instead, an overwhelming uncertainty bubbled just beneath your skin.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help?” Butcher barked, not even looking up from the terminal. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he tried to override the system’s security protocols.

You snapped out of your daze and approached another terminal, feeling the heat of your powers still crackling under your skin. And it still hurt.

Before you could respond, Soldier Boy's sharp voice cut through the air. "We've got company."

The door behind him shook under the pressure of a battering ram. Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor as more of Vought’s enforcers gathered outside, their numbers growing by the second.

“Of course we bloody do,” Butcher muttered, his eyes never leaving the screen. “We’re almost through—just a bit more time.”

You clenched your fists, the air around you shimmering with energy that was so unfamiliar, it sent a shiver down your spine. "We don't have time, Butcher. I can feel them—they’re coming fast."

Ben squared his shoulders, stepping forward to brace the door. The rage that always seemed to simmer beneath his surface was now boiling over. He was done waiting, done being manipulated. “Let them come,” he growled, his shield raised, ready to take on whatever came through that door.

Butcher glanced at you, something like hesitation flickering in his eyes. It was a look you didn’t yet know he could have. “You’ve got a plan, love? ‘Cause if we don’t shut this down now, Vought’ll be all over us.”

The door rattled violently as Vought’s forces hammered against it, each thud reverberating through the control room.

"Me, a plan?" you spat ever so lightly, mild accusation in your tone. "You were the ones that needed me out!"

But Butcher didn't respond. Neither did Ben, for that matter.

Time was running out, and the tension was as thick as the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You focused, taking in the situation: Butcher was close to breaking the system, Ben was ready to stand his ground, and you—well, you weren’t the same person who had been shackled in that cell for decades. You had something new simmering inside, something dangerous. And you could feel it in every single piece of your body.

Your powers crackled just beneath the surface, stronger than you had ever remembered. The years of confinement, of being forced into silence, had built a storm within you, and you were ready to let it loose. But you knew this wasn’t you. This had never been you.

Ben stood firm by the door, his broad shoulders braced against the inevitable. His eyes flicked toward you, still cold, still distant. He was ready to fight, but this was a fight you had never been in before. A complete stranger, and a man who couldn’t even remember you, stood by you. And you had no idea if you could rely on them.

Butcher’s voice broke through your thoughts. “We’re in!” he called, finally cracking the security system. “But they’ve got some heavy-duty encryption on this place. It’ll take a few more minutes to wipe the files and shut down the alarms.”

You glanced at Ben. He was steady, but he couldn’t hold off a full squad alone. And your powers—they felt unpredictable. But you didn’t have a choice. Vought was coming, and this was your only chance.

The door shuddered again, and you could hear the muffled voices of the soldiers outside, preparing for a final push. You turned to Butcher. “You’d better hurry. We don’t have minutes.”

He looked at you, his jaw clenched, but nodded. “Just keep them off me, yeah? I don’t fancy getting me head blown off ‘cause you got distracted.”

Asshole.

With a deep breath, you stepped forward, joining Ben at the door. “You got an idea?” you asked, voice low.

Ben shot you a glance, his grip tightening on his shield. “You think I haven’t done this a thousand times? Just stay out of my fucking way.”

You didn’t respond. There was no point. Whatever bond the two of you once had was long gone, buried beneath the years of torture and manipulation. But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was getting through this.

The door burst open, and Vought’s soldiers flooded in. Ben moved like a force of nature, his shield slamming into the first soldier with a sickening crunch. He was fast, brutal, and efficient—every movement a practised execution of raw power. But there were too many.

You felt the heat rise in your palms, the energy building, and it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. It used to be a sweet touch of weather, the comforting droplets of rain. But this was different.

It neared a breaking point. Both your power and your well-being. At its maximum power, you lost control. And with a sharp exhale, you unleashed it. The energy exploded from you in a blinding wave, tearing through the room like wildfire. The soldiers were thrown back, their bodies crashing into the walls with bone-shattering force. Bolts of lightning crackled between the men, ensuring death upon impact.

Even Ben was forced to brace himself against the onslaught, his shield raised in defence. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, barely having evaded your attack from reaching him. But he didn’t say anything.

You were out of control. And there was no way you could contain this power any longer. Fuck, you weren't even sure what was going on. You weren't even sure if you were conscious.

When the dust settled, the room was eerily quiet. The soldiers lay scattered, unconscious or worse, and the air was thick with the smell of burnt metal and ozone. You fell to the floor, breathing heavily, your hands still crackling with residual power. For a moment, you didn’t feel anything—just numbness.

Then Butcher’s voice cut through the silence. “Well, that was bloody brilliant,” he muttered, stepping back from the terminal. “Shut down the whole damn system. Alarms are off, security’s locked out. We’re good to go.”

You turned to face him, your body still trembling from the power you barely remembered releasing. “It’s done?”

Butcher nodded, a grim smile on his face. “Yeah, love. It’s done. Now we get the hell out of here.”

Ben lowered his shield, his face unreadable as he looked at you. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a glimmer of something other than cold indifference in his eyes. Maybe he remembered something. Maybe it was fear.

You didn't care.

You spoke up once more, this time directing your gaze towards Ben, who held a seemingly shocked frown. “What on earth happened?”

Soldiers scattered in the hallway, remains of them smashed against the bloodied wall.

Soldier Boy didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at Butcher, who knowingly glanced back at the supe.

All you could do was look around at the aftermath of whatever had happened to you.

And what feared you the most, was the fact you could only vaguely remember what the answer to it was.

A/N: as always, feedback is appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @demodemo909 @deangirl96 @mostlymarvelgirl @n-o-p-e-never

[vixstarria]

Kinktober Day 25 - Sex toys

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post. Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published. But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer: Yes, I am aware it is November and I'm late, but I had other stuff to do. I'm still committing to finishing it though.

Asmodea tested the leather restraints that bound her arms to the bedposts: tight, but not so much as to bite into her skin. Firm enough to let her know she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

“Do you like it, darling?” Astarion’s voice sounded like warm velvet, somewhere above her. She couldn’t see him for the blindfold.

“I’d like it a lot more if you touched me,” she said, not bothering to hide her anticipation.

“Patience…” Astarion purred, getting up to retrieve another item. “I have something else for you,” he said, gliding a thumb softly over her lower lip. She thought she heard him playing with something in his other hand. “Open your mouth…”

“Is that a gag?” Asmodea asked, frowning slightly. “You know I don’t like them.”

“You will find that this one is quite unlike any others you’ve seen,” he said, with a playful lilt in his voice. “Do you trust me?”

“Fine,” she said, after a few seconds’ hesitation.

“Then open wide,” he purred. “Mind the teeth.”

She complied, feeling Astarion loop something around the back of her head, carefully aligning the strap, before abruptly tightening it, securing a rectangular metallic object between her lips.

Surprised and confused by its shape, she probed at it with her tongue, trying to make sense of the implement. Her deliberation was interrupted by a sudden pinch on her nipple, which made her draw a sharp breath.

A rustic warble sounded from between her jaws.

Startled, she gasped again, which resulted in another breezy wail.

Somewhere above her, Astarion snickered.

Realisation hit her, but she could not stop herself from releasing an exasperated sigh, which erupted with a gritty howl from the object between her lips.

Astarion broke into a full chortle, quickly straddling her hips before she could kick at him, and began to caress her breasts, now with both hands. Asmodea growled, trying to avoid letting any airflow through the contraption.

A harmonica. Really? REALLY?

“What was that, darling,” Astarion said with faux concern. “Did you say something?”

“I’m going to ‘ucking kill you,” she snarled, the threat in her voice being somewhat dampened by the bright little trills that escaped the harmonica as she spoke. She snorted and grinned around it, despite herself.

“What? I didn’t quite get that,” Astarion tittered. “Oh well, can’t have been important…” He trailed the fingertips of one hand down her stomach. “You said you wanted me to touch you?”

A reedy hum quivered tentatively from the harmonica as Asmodea began to acquiesce to her predicament.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Astarion managed, biting back a laugh. His fingers slid lower until they dipped between her legs, spreading her slick and circling around her clit. “Like this?”

A trembling whistle followed, Asmodea starting to giggle at the absurdity of the sounds that flew from the instrument held between her lips.

“See, I knew you would enjoy this,” Astarion breathed, a slight shake to his voice betraying his level of composure.

He slipped two fingers inside her, and just as he did - Asmodea gave up and simply blew as hard as she could, unleashing a shrill, piercing whine. The fingers quickly disappeared as Astarion doubled over with a guffaw.

“I can’t… I can’t do this,” he gasped, laughing. He reached over to loosen the strap and remove the harmonica gag from Asmodea’s mouth, also taking off her blindfold. He hesitated, leaning away from her with a sheepish look. “Now, darling..? Do you promise not to murder me?”

“Release me at once,” she tried to scowl.

“Yes, of course. Right away, maestro,” he said. He glanced at the harmonica, still held in his hand. “Hold this, would you” he said, stuffing it back in her mouth. He leaned over her to remove the restraints, once again cracking up as she spat the harmonica out, alongside a stream of laughter and profanity.

No lovemaking happened that night.

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

PS @tragedybunny I just want you (and anyone else who reads this) to know this is 100% your fault for showing me that harmonica gag photo.

[carlsdarling]

I imagine that Carl would be horny alllll the time. Just whenever: Short shirt? Cleavage? Sweat? Bending over? It all gets him going. So what if the reader is gone on a week long trip and he just pounces on her when she’s back because the poor baby is desperate.

Fucking needy!!!

Carl is naughty and can't control himself after Y/N has been away for a while. Bit of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw

You had been dating Carl for about three months. You had liked him from the first time you saw him, right after you arrived in Alexandria. You had lost your previous group, and they had probably moved on without you. Carl, with his charming personality and his protectiveness, had immediately won your heart, and you didn't care about his injury at all, you were head over heels in love with him. Still, you had actually wanted to wait a while before sleeping with him; but it turned out to be impossible. Carl was so horny for you that after less than a week you ended up in bed together - or rather, in the back seat of his car.

It wasn't that Carl had pressured you into it, but with his constant groping, kissing, moaning and wailing, he had managed to get you just as hot for him and without hesitation had spread your legs for him, wet as the Colorado River. It had been wonderful, passionate and loving, and you had done it every day since.

Just everything got Carl going - if you bent over, tied your hair up, touched his arm, your shirt slid up exposing your belly, your cleavage (especially if it was sweaty) damn it, all you had to do was walk in front of him and he'd see your arse and he'd get horny, push you against the nearest tree or make you immediately ride him on the wooded soil. More than once you had been surprised by walkers during such actions, literally with your pants down. If Rick ever found out about it, you'd both have to write your testaments right now. He hadn't been thrilled with how fast your relationship was evolving anyway, but Carl was an adult and could do what he wanted.

But now you had been away for a week, accompanying Rosita, who was pregnant and had to go to Hilltop for a medical checkup. During your stay at Hilltop (although it was only for a week), you had thought of Carl constantly. The longing tension in your nether regions had been almost unbearable after only two days, no matter how often you touched yourself at night. Carl's horniness had somehow infected you. "You and Carl are downright addicted to each other," Rosita had stated, rolling her eyes meaningfully.

"We're not," you'd defended yourself, your face bright red.

"They are," Rosita said to Jesus, who was leaning against the door, grinning in amusement. "They literally can't keep their hands off each other. I bet Carl's right wrist is all sprained by the time we get back."

Jesus laughed. "You could have brought Carl," he wondered. "We have plenty of space at Hilltop."

"Oh, believe me Jesus, you don't wish that," Rosita replied. "They live in the house next to mine, and often they're so loud I can hear them. And it goes on all night."

"'Shut up", you commanded her, ashamed.

Now you were on your way back, and the gates of Alexandria appeared before you. Your stomach tingled; in a moment you would finally see Carl again.

Rosita hadn't finished parking the car when Carl already showed up, and when you got out, he immediately threw his arms around your neck and you could feel his massive boner. "I missed you so much," he murmured and kissed you deeply.

"Me too," you grabbed his butt. It would probably be best if you went to Carl's room right away and didn't come out until tomorrow so that Carl could pound into you until he was completely exhausted.

"There's a hole in the wall over here," Eugene objected.

Rick came over. "It needs fixing right away," he decided, "Carl, Y/N, it's a lucky thing you're here right now, we can use any helping hand we can get."

Carl looked pissed, he'd wanted to get the fuck out of here right now and rail you dizzy, your legs on his shoulders, and now he was forced to wait. Rick handed out tools. "There, plane off that metal and bend it so we can nail it up." You did your best, but were constantly interrupted by Carl, who, rather than concentrating on the work, kept fumbling you unobtrusively. "Carl," you scolded quietly as his hand tried to move back into your cleavage. ""Stop that!"

"But I can't control myself," he squealed and kissed your neck, leaving a hickey. Embarrassed, you looked around. Luckily Rick had just turned his back on you, but Daryl had seen everything and was grinning wickedly.

"Stop it now," you threatened, picking up a bolt from the ground. Big mistake: you'd been bending over. "Carl!" you hissed as he promptly grabbed your arse. "I mean it!"

"What's going on?" asked Rick, looking from one to the other in annoyance.

"Nothing," Daryl said hurriedly. "It's just something has fallen down." At that, Rick nodded and turned away again.

"It's more like something has risen," Carl whispered in your ear, taking your hand and guiding it to his hard one. He had long since dropped the screwdriver.

You withdrew your hand. "Carl, that's quite enough," you said sternly. "Get a grip on yourself. It can't be that everything gets you going and you can't control yourself for half an hour!" Carl was so desperate for your touch that you were afraid he was going to fuck you right here.

"Get away from here," Daryl said with a wink. "There's no sense in that. You two cannot focus on the work right now." Carl hastily grabbed your wrist and pulled you along with him so fast you almost stumbled.

"Where are you heading?" you asked, uncomprehending, because the house was in the other direction. He turned toward a section of land that was near the main gate and where a few old cars were rotting in the high grass. Carl grabbed you around the hips and unceremoniously sat you on the hood of an old Chevrolet, then positioned himself between your legs and impatiently slipped his jeans and boxers down to his knees. His cock was so hard it had to be painful for him; it twitched slightly, and the tip looked sore. "Honestly, Carl, how many times did you jerk off in that one week?" you asked tauntingly.

"I wasn't counting," Carl admitted bashfully. "Anyway, I could hardly stand it without you." He fiddled a condom out of the wrapper and put it on his cock. You eagerly embraced him and let him penetrate you; it wasn't like you weren't horny for him, too. He moaned lustfully as he buried his entire length into your slick folds, his breathing shallow and rapid, and he made short, quick thrusts - as he always did when he was being particularly needy. His mouth was open and his eyes closed, there were drops of sweat on his upper lip. You tenderly stroked his lean back, then grinded your fingers into his tight buttocks as you approached your climax. "Carl, I'm close," you whimpered.

"Me too," he moaned, only seconds before he began to moan very loudly and the movements of his hips became even faster and more intense as he cum and spilled his seed into the condom. Sweaty and exhausted, you sagged on the hot hood, the grass tickling your bare legs. "Don't ever leave me alone for so long again, Y/N," Carl pouted before embracing you and kissing you tenderly. „I can't stand it!“

[flower-cage]

Scratch That

by @flower-cage

Ao3 | Masterlist | NEW! Part 2: Denial

Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary: His sweet little sister has an itch only he can scratch.

Words: 4,246

Warnings: 18+ only; Targcest/incest, Perv!Aemond, Manipulative!Aemond, smut, fluff, purity culture, Aemond likes that she is naive and takes advantage of it.

A/N: lol remember when I said I didn’t want to write incest. Instead of writing TWATD, I’ve been working on this. It is unbeta’d and it is cursed and I will write more parts to it probably.

Minors do not interact.

You had always been a fierce crier, his sweet little sister. As a babe, you drove your mother and wet nurses to tears themselves with your wailing. As a child, just about anything set off your sorrow: a scrape of your knee, Aegon’s pinchings and teasings, thunderstorms... And as you grew to become a young, fair maiden, this childish trait persisted.

It had never bothered him - your crying - though it did others, and for that reason, it was he that you sought after for comfort. And he always took you in his most loving embrace, for no one had cried harder the night his eye was taken from him, no one had shared his pain of injustice quite so vividly, so everlastingly.

You had walked in as your mother and older sister disputed in the large hall, having had your rest interrupted, so clearly fatigued and holding on to your favorite plush doll. He knew it was coming before it happened. You always looked for him first in a crowded room, eyes scanning right past your family as they altercated. When your eyes found him, he saw it coming in the their wettish gleam and in the trembling of your bottom lip. You had run to him fast, your small frame mostly undetected as it moved through the crowd in desperation. 

None took note of the youngest Targaryen as you clung to him and descended into dejection, with your nose tucked to his neck and his arm wound tightly around you. None but for him, for nobody loved you as he did, and no one would ever deserve you as he did.

As children, you had been close, seeking each other’s company to chase one another around the gardens in the Red Keep, play fighting and picking flowers alike. But after the night he claimed Vhagar, you became positively inseparable - be it because you sought to comfort him for his mutilation, be it because you were the only company he wished to keep. Your child’s play became bound to the walls of your private chambers more often, away from the pitying and terrified stares of the nobility and the commoners who lived and worked at the castle. Though you had watched his demeanor become harsher and colder, to you he had remained warm and loving. In your growing youth, you evolved into each other’s confidant, each other’s most beloved companion, as your interests grew away from those of children.

Your chasing turned into challenges of knowledge and dragon-riding and your play fights into flying away from court to read for hours in each other’s embrace. He loved more than anything to fly away with you when the sun and the breeze invited you to do so, whenever your older brother drove him mad, or even when the ladies of the court teased you for your naïveté.

In truth, regardless of the years that passed, you remained clueless to the malice of the world, and as your older brother, he saw it as his prime duty to watch over you. That, in the body of the beautiful young woman you had become, attracted the lecherous sights of men and the envious sights of women, turning you prey to the very ill will to which you remained blind.

It was only at the celebration of his fifteenth nameday that he perceived his sentiments for you surpassed that of a protective brother.

It had always been your favorite celebration and every year you doted on him like the King he coveted to be: broke your fast with him, gave him presents, brushed his hair, and clapped the loudest and smiled the brightest at every toast at his feast. He watched you carefully and dutifully as you played with Jahaerys and Jahaera, minding especially inebriated men who dared look your way longer than a second when it happened.

You bent forward to pick up a wailing child, and your maturing breasts threatened to spill over the tight seam of your dress. He felt his cheeks burn in shame, and he rose and stormed toward you in hopes anger would subdue his indecent inquietudes.

He had scolded you then, quietly, and was astounded to realize you simply did not understand. He watched as the tell-tale signs of your crying formed on your face.

“It’s alright, my darling,” he shushed you, rubbing your hands soothingly, “It’s merely that-” he gulped, both thanking and cursing the Gods that your Septa had been useless in her teachings of womanhood. 

“There are parts of you that must be kept sacred,” he whispered, “secret to only yourself and who will one day share your intimacy.”

He watched your brows unfurrow as confusion was overtaken by curiosity, and watched your tears turn into a smile when he asked you for a dance.

“Come,” he had said, “I’ll request your favorite song.”

And it was later that day when he came to your bedchambers, as he often did so you would read together before sleep, that you shared words of your love for the first time. 

His cheeks flushed in shame and want similar to how they had at the earlier feast when you opened the door.

“Sister!” he hissed, “You shouldn’t have opened the door in this way if you knew I was coming!” 

He averted his eyes frantically and closed the door quickly so that none else would see you in your indecency. He kept his back to you, hands on the wooden pane, willing his nervousness to wane and praying that you would cover yourself in more layers.

“No,” you urged him softly, pulling him around by his elbow, “dearest brother, I love you the most,” you uttered lovingly, looking up at him as if he carried all your joy and dreams in his only eye; his sweet little sister who couldn’t see the malevolence in the world, especially not within him, who simply didn’t understand.

“Who else would I possibly want to share in my intimacy?”

He watched your hair, free of the restraints of courtly propriety, felt the soft cotton chemise typically bound to the privacy of your chambers, to your eyes only, breathed in the sweet fragrance you wore before bedtime. There you were, inviting him in.

“My little darling,” he exhaled brokenly, kissed your forehead, “I love you more than anyone, more than anything.”

When he pulled away he saw your eyes glisten for the second time that day.

“Come,” he said, his heart beating wildly in his chest in joy and desire and, most of all, in love, “Let us read something of your choosing.”

But you pulled him back once again as he made to move toward the plush chairs by your fireplace.

“Will you let me see you as well, then? If it is I who you love the most?”

He could never deny you anything.

You were crying the first time he ever kissed you too, ages after he had first sparked in you an interest in love.

In the years that had followed in your maidenhood, he had restrained himself from advancing with his inappropriate thoughts no matter how terribly his desire matured, waiting for you to reach your own awakenings. But he allowed the touches and intimacy you sought after in your innocence.

You had barged into his room in the early evening one day, wailing, unbothered by the glint of his blue gem as you were by the lack of a shirt on his body.

“Brother!” you cried against his naked chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly as your shoulders bounced from your sobs.

“What is it, little sister?” He was unfazed at your outburst, it being as common as the rise of the sun at every morrow.

“Brother,” you sobbed one more time, “I am not loved, and I never shall be.” 

You placed your chin upon his pectoral to regard him from under your eyelashes, tears streaking along your complexion.

“What are you on about?” he chuckled, “Don’t I tell you I love you every day?”

“But yours is brotherly love, Aemond!” you protested, annoyed at his mocking, “It is not true love.”

He hummed, delighting in your aggravation. Even so, he soothed you by running his palm firmly along your spine.

“And what is true love, little darling?”

You swallowed down more tears and composed yourself marginally.

“Lady Cora says it is when someone gives you a true love’s kiss.” 

He couldn’t hold back the grin that slowly split his face in half. 

“Such as when a knight kisses a damsel, or a Prince kisses a Princess-” you scoffed and slapped his hard chest, frustrated at his continued jesting, “Aemond!”

It had him laughing harder, your frustration. And it was with the greatest care he was capable of that he cupped your face in his large hands and brushed your noses together lovingly, before placing the gentlest kiss on your wet lips. He only let go when he felt you melt against him.

“There,” he murmured, smiling softly still, “I am a Prince and you a Princess, and I’ve kissed you.”

He watched as your countenance changed from surprise to sheepish delight and you buried your face in his neck once more.

“Don’t believe everything Lady Cora taunts you with, little darling,” he pulled you from your hiding place, taking your hand in his and kissing your palm, “I assure you none love her as I love you,” he kissed your wrist, your forearm, the dip of your elbow, your lips again, “and no man will ever love you as much as I do.”

It became customary for you to show your affections by kissing him in your moments of privacy. They were always soft, lovely brushes of your lips against his. You adored being kissed, every time he could see in you the childish adoration you had always reserved for him. To you, it was a demonstration of true love greater but no less innocent than holding hands or resting your head on his shoulder when you sat together, even if, in him, it elicited a burning lust that immediately tightened his pants.

The addition to your interactions had sparked a want that threatened to consume him, more than any of the more intimate touches he would sometimes risk in your aloneness. More so than when he would hold you at night as you doze off on his bare chest, your bodies separated merely by the thinnest of your gowns. He would often bare you off the heavy blankets, only so that your nipples would pebble against him in the cold or your leg would shift over his stiff member as you sought his warmth. It had always been enough, those accidental touches. Until you began to seek and yearn for the touch of his lips.

Then, he could never restrain himself as he once had.

When you flew off to your secluded, secretive haven at the top of a hill near the Kingswood, he would hold you in his arms as you read aloud, with his back against a tree trunk, much like you had done since you were children. Unlike then, you shared gentle kisses and he would run his hand up your naked thigh, under your summer skirts, stroke under the curve of your bottom to have you shiver and falter in your speech.

When you broke your fast with him, he would wipe off the remaining sugar from your dainty fingers with a stroke of his tongue to watch your lips pop open and your pupils dilate in arousal you didn’t even comprehend. He would pepper sweet kisses along your cleavage and delight in the desperate rise and fall of your bosom against his face. He would squeeze your waist and pull you to his chest as he held you tightly, as you squirmed from the loving words he murmured teasingly against your sensitive neck.

He could only coach you, tease you, spark in you something new with each touch in hopes that, one day, you would ask him for more.

That one day came when he visited you in the early morrow with a gift in his hands, one he was swift to discard so he could busy his hands with touching you. He woke you with kisses to your face and nudges to your side. You had been quick to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into your bed fully when you came to.

“Aemond!” you yelped joyfully. “You’re back!”

He had traveled along with Ser Criston to watch a tourney at the invitation of the Prince of Dorne. His trainer had insisted he learned the techniques of the Dornish, convinced it would make him a far more distinguished fighter. And because Ser Criston wouldn’t fly with him on Vhagar, they had sailed to Sunspear, taking him from you for nearly two moons.

You had cried and cried to mother to let you accompany him. And you had cried and cried on the day of his departure. You had ridden with him in his private carriage all the way to the pier, grasping his hand tightly and sniffing against his shoulder the entire journey. He kissed you lovingly as he always did, just the sweet, soft slide of your lips against one another, in attempts at comfort. Though he wanted nothing more than to finally allow himself to deepen it, to commit your taste to memory before he had to endure so many nights without your touch, from it he refrained. Instead, he breathed in deeply, freeing himself of his nefarious thoughts and reminding himself to be patient, or else he risked frightening you. He kissed you firmly, fiercely, a final time before stepping out of the carriage and pulling you after him.

He continued to hold you in the circling of his arms while the last of his bearings were carried into the undersized vessel, swaying you side to side soothingly.

“Tis time, my love,” he spoke softly against your temple, eliciting a few sobs to tumble out of you. 

“Think of me as I will you each day,” he said, cupping your wet cheeks in his hands, and kissing your forehead. He couldn't keep at bay the smile that surged at your fierce display of melancholy. Though his heart ached at your distress, he delighted in your vehement devotion. “And remember that I love you more than anyone and more than anything.”

“Brother,” you hiccuped around your tears, “Please, kiss me one more time.”

Then, the very breath was knocked out of him and your desperation for his touch drove his heart to wild beatings. His grip on you tightened and he grasped at the very ends of his sanity to not give in to your temptations. This would be the one time he would have to deny you.

“Do as I say,” he said gruffly, voice heavy with the effort of restraint. 

“Think of me, of my touch, of my kiss, and of my love every night before you drift off to sleep, and I promise you, when I come back, I shall kiss you with more passion than I have ever done, and give you immense pleasure only my love is capable of delivering.”

And you hadn’t failed him.

“How I’ve missed you, little love,” he whispered against your lips, watching you with all the adoration that he bore within. And then he kissed you and you clung to him firmly. You dipped your fingers in his hair, arched your body to press against him, chased his lips with yours when he threatened to pull away, and he realized you yearned to feel closer to him just as much he did. 

To the best of his abilities, he removed his clothing while keeping his lips upon yours as you continued to demand of him. The carnal desperation you showed perhaps for the first time threatened his hardened cock to spill in his undergarments at the slightest touch.

“Mine as well,” you asked between erratic breaths, pulling on the sleeves of your night slip, “Please, brother, I want to feel your skin on mine.”

His whole body shuddered at your request, and he all but stifled a moan as he pulled soft silk down soft skin. You discarded his eyepatch as you often did when it was just the two of you, but he took no notice of it. He stared at your perky breasts instead, just beneath his chin, pointing up in arousal you mistook for simply missing his company. His mouth flooded with the hunger he had for the taste of them, and his lips tingled as the very last of his self–control fought against his crazed desire. He couldn’t be sure of whether he would have resisted it if not for your calling.

“Brother,” you urged and he moved to face you again, “I was– I did as you told me,” you breathed hurriedly, “I thought of you every night as I lay in bed.”

“Did you, little love?” He smiled fondly and proceeded to plant long, firm kisses at the expanse of your neck, eliciting shivers and goosebumps to litter your skin. He was eager to learn which fruits he would be able to pick from the seed he planted so many nights ago.

You hummed in agreement. His calculated though sensual ministrations of your body, his firm grips and strokes of your waist, thighs, hips, had you breathing harshly as you attempted to reason further. His digits, cold from the long travel, pressed upon your burning hot skin, heightening the sensations he wished for you to revel in.

“I did and it-“ you bit your lip hesitantly, “it caused me a strange affliction.”

He halted his touches to prop himself over you once more.

“How so?” He sucked in his cheeks to prevent a smile; every nerve ending on his skin sensitive to the words he desperately wanted you to utter. His cock twitched in his smallclothes as it hovered between your legs.

“It felt as though I had a fever!” Your eyes bulged in your worry, naive and so dependent on your older brother to teach you of the world. “Though, it did not bring me any pain. A strong itch spread across my skin and-”

“Go on,” he whispered, heart hammering, blood boiling.

“It settled between my legs,” you murmured lowly. Even if you didn’t understand the depravity of your words, you were ashamed to speak of the body parts you knew to be intimate; the parts to which you understood only he was allowed to be privy.

“I thought it was my missing you,” you whined and the sound sent his liquid pleasure to drip and wet his clothes, “but with you here, it’s become more powerful. It is pulsing, brother,” you whined once again.

Aemond let out a shaky breath in response. He positively felt his only pupil dilate as his arousal intensified.

“Do you know what that is?” He asked gruffly. “Have you told anyone?”

You shook your head rapidly.

“It is our love, sweet thing,” he murmured against your lips, “Our love makes us feel this way. Do you remember what I told you the day I left?”

I shall kiss you with more passion than I have ever done, and give you immense pleasure only my love is capable of delivering.

You nodded.

“It is how I’ll scratch that for you.”

And with that, with a calloused thumb, he pulled your bottom lip away from the trappings of your teeth. And when he placed his lips upon yours he let his tongue slowly crawl in between them to caress your own.

He held you by your jaw at an angle which allowed him to explore your mouth freely. Each touch of your tongues had him yearning for more, and you drawing sharp breaths as you felt pleasure for the very first time. He reveled in the sensation of your breasts grazing his naked chest as you struggled for air. Your hands held on tight to his long hair as if grasping onto a sense of lucidity that threatened to leave you rapidly. 

He only broke from you when he had savored you completely, learned your taste and taught you his. When he did, you followed his movement to reunite instead your glistening lips. He smiled and tried to hold you back, talk you through the sensations so new to your flesh, but when you whimpered his name with darkened eyes, no godly power of the Seven could have prevented him from devouring you the way he did.

He ran a hand down your body again, reacquainting himself with your warm skin and your supple curves. When he squeezed your breast and rolled your sensitive nub under his thumb, you thrashed underneath him, rolling your body to touch his and whining into his mouth. You whined freely in the room and with abandon when he replaced his finger with his mouth, tonguing and nipping at your hardened bud.

“Gods,” he stopped when your noises threatened your privacy, “I have wanted to taste you for so long.”

“Brother!” You gasped, attempting to control your breathing. “It is so much!”

You squirmed still underneath him, closing your thighs and rubbing them together in an unconscious search for release. He shushed you by planting a sweet kiss on your wet lips.

“My dearest love,” he cooed, littered kisses on your face adoringly, “Doesn’t it feel good?”

“It- it does,” you muttered trepidly, “But it’s become so much stronger... the itch.”

You stroked his chest as if to assure him you enjoyed his passion and tucked his hair behind his ear where it had come loose. 

With little patience to word his explanations, he captured your lips in a sensual entangle of your tongues as one of his hands descended on your naked body. Swiftly he discarded both your small clothes and with a hand hooked around your knee, he pulled apart your legs to press his rock-solid member against your wet privates.

“Oh,” you moaned as his engorged head bumped against that little button of pleasure of which you had no knowledge.

You clung onto his shoulders desperately, trying to make sense of the sensations that dominated your body; stemming from his insistent touches of your most intimate parts and disseminating upwards to your hardened nipples and downwards to your toes. You moaned continuously as he ground his cock along your wet folds and against your pleasure pearl, provoking wave after wave of that same intense itch.

“This is what you needed,” he growled close to your face, watching as your confusion slowly gave way to carnal bliss. “Was it not, little sister?”

“Aemond,” you moaned, your bulging innocent eyes fixed on his lustful one, “what is this I’m feeling?”

“It’s pleasure, little darling,” he explained, “a pleasure only I can give you, only my love can give you.”

“You love me this much, brother?” You asked between whimpers and gasps that drove all the blood that fed his thoughts to his leaking cock. 

Tears rolled from your eyes, ones he recognized to be from his love confession. Even when he had you bare beneath him, committing unspeakable sins and giving in to cravings of the flesh, you sought the reassurance of his love.

“More,” he grunted and as if to prove the extent of his adoration, he quickened his pace, rutting against you with renewed vigor, groping your plush behind and moving you along his cock forcefully.

The wet sounds of your flesh coming together in passion and your surprised, wanton moans, heightened the sensations that gathered on his cock, making it pulse as if it desired to get bigger and allow for more arousal, as if it were to explode in its lust. So long had he waited for that moment, so patient he had been, now he delivered all of his raw, burning desire with abandon.

“That’s it, my little darling,” he murmured as you threw your head back in excruciating pleasure, “Relish in all of my love, in all of my affections.”

“You were such an obedient girl for your older brother,” he moaned, “You deserve this. Take it.”

He took your hands as his pleasure neared its peak, lacing your fingers together and bringing them to rest against the bed, above your head. He thrust slower, more powerfully, hoping to bring the climax of your enjoyment along with his.

“Aemond!” You cried among your gasps of arousal. “Something is happening!” 

He watched as your eyes bulged in desperation, wet with streaking tears, equal parts frightened and aroused. 

“Please,” you whined, “It is so much!”

“Give in to it, my little love,” he gasped harshly as his own arousal threatened to break through that maximum threshold of pleasure. “Trust me.”

He watched with his mouth parted in awe as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your lips fell open in a silent scream of utter satisfaction. He felt himself explode between your bodies before he registered his tremendously overwhelming orgasm, so enraptured he was by yours. He rode the waves of your peak until they became mere jolts of your body against his, his own electrifying his flesh in their wake.

And then he kissed you and kissed you until your jaws became numb with the effort.

A/N: I know I've robbed you of the aftercare but I'll write a part two!