#it was the one where they connected the show to prime but only from the first ep and the whole show was ep after ep of them fighting animal

[siinlight]

I feel like there is a clear way for a transformers show to make good views and sales. And blablah blah but none of it will ever happen ;-;

[torpublishinggroup]

"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune

(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)

1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.

2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.

3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.

4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.

5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.

6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!

Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.

[fqntasies]

Just a taste, baby - Feyd Rautha x Reader

summary: You and Feyd-Rautha have been connected through dreams since childhood; a complex inner-working of the Bene Gesserit mothers to join your bloodlines. It binds the two of you in a pull you can't escape (nor do you want to). Feyd is absolutely feral for you.

words: 1,258

disclaimer: characters may be out of character, specifically feyd, considering his desperate softness here. just a forewarning.

You were trapped, breaths coming out of shallow pants as you felt the scratch of the cement structure beneath your palms. He had you against the wall in a hidden alcove; along one of the lengthy corridors of the palace in Giedi Prime. Your mouths were just breaths apart. In fact the Harkonnen before you seemed intent on matching your breaths, mingling them. Tasting your tiny pants as his own. It made your eyes heavy, made you want to tilt your head back and close your eyes, give him access to the expanse of your neck.

"sweetness." He rasped, unable to control himself. The Na-Baron wrapped an arm about your waist, a vice arching you against him as he lowered a wanting mouth to your neck, licking and sucking where the two met. You mewled at the wet heat, felt him growl desperately at the taste.

The two of you hadn't even kissed yet - but the wait; the dreams - you both knew each other to the soul.

---- flashback ----------

The sands of Arakis and Geidi Prime alike carried mysteries of prophesies of the lisan-al-gaib. But midst such tales, the Bene-Geserit mothers also had worked to connect bloodlines through dreams. The Na-Baron and the princess of Arrakis had been bound by such since birth. A well-planned move to align feuds and place power into wanting hands in preparation of war. A web of politcal conspiracy only they controlled. Their plans could not be foiled.

But Feyd couldn't care less about such witchcraft; and neither, if one were honest, could you. The two of you had known of this binding since a young age. And when you had met as children too - the connection had been strong.

"Their line is bright" The reverend mother's voice had burned into your mind, even at 10 years old.

You remembered her cloaked form; a black shadow against the haze of the horizon, a tower above you as she turned from your parents. Her voice had been void of emotion, except for a smugness you didn't understand. But when you turned to glance at the older boy before you (such a uniquely beautiful boy; broad shoulders and smooth skin, black attire across a lithe form), his eyes shone with an intensity that surprised her. Dark, watching, intrigued. He intimidated you. He made you curious.

At 15 years of age, the Na-Baron hadn't spoken in their meeting; but he had felt more than he had imagined. The girl...she had made him feel things. It confused and awakened him to something he had never known. His uncle had never spoken of such a pull. A need.

When the ship had arrived to his homeworld, and the strange foreigners parted like a sea, Feyd-Rautha found himself straightening to his full height; head lowered as he studied them beneath an angled gaze. Garbs of strange colors - hair he had never seen before in elegant styles. He would be Harkonnen predator. He would be a warrior. Strike fear in these alien people, show the Baron he was not swayed so easily by something new.

But then-

Swathed in layers of white, a girl stepped forward; dainty and gracious above all else; practically floating across the landing platform. Yet her eyes betrayed her; darting to capture the landscape, thrown off perhaps by the infrared of Giedi Prime's black sun above them.

She was drinking in the strange newness before her, and then they found him. Feyd felt his chest tighten. Fists clenched. Heat brimmed under the chestplate of his armor.

She looked like some newborn animal, caught in his gaze. But they both felt it. The familiarity. The warm hum between them. It made you want to slip from the safety of your parents and stand beside him, as though his shadow was more protection than the whole parade your own family brought with them. You wondered if he'd felt the same.

Three nights later, you had dreamed of him. A bit older, hand in his as he raised it to his lips. His eyes had never left yours. As a young girl it made you blush. Now...

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

You made a breathy sound as his tongue lathed the mark he had made, moving with a lazy carelessness across your pulse, hungry above all else, uncaring for decorum. He wanted to devour you entirely. He wanted you to see you helpless and delirious against him, just as you were now. As you were in all his dreams.

He knew you'd had them all too. His eyes on you at their wedding. His tongue against yours, moans and tastes and hunger. You watching from the arena as he slaughtered man after man, coated and heaving. He felt like a beast.

"Feyd-" His name barely formed, like a prayer from your lips.

His eyes nearly lolled in his head at the way you sounded, and he dragged his wanting mouth up to meet yours. Wet and wanting. Feyd's free hand shifted to engulf your slender neck, moving your head against his mouth to deepen the kiss, taste all of you. Consume.

The Na-Baron was all muscle and prowess, a looming figure that practically dwarfed you. The spanse of his shoulders alone were sinful, and deep down you loved how it felt to be completely in his grasp. Guiding you in your movements.

Feyd's tongue sought yours as much as he could, controlling and demanding - but you were a needy little thing too, weren't you? In the haze of passion you were pressing into him - leaning just as much towards his heat as he was pushing you both together. You sucked his plush bottom lip into your mouth - unable to help yourself. After all, why was he made so beautiful, if not to kiss? He was quick to follow, biting your own with a growl that made your knees practically give, and following with his greedy tongue.

"You're going to be my wife." the words are a promise, his eyes glittering under the low light; shadows flashign with the coming storm. You part your mouth as though to taste him again, a helpless 'please' slipping past as you arch in his grasp.

Feyd practically took you then and there. Enter the nearest room... make all his dreams a reality. His patience was nearly worn thin. Years of waiting, of hunger. And now it was here. You were in his reach, that tempting little waist; those hips. It made him absolutely insane.

He wets his lips, gaze feverish.

"tomorrow. tomorrow sweetness, hmm? Can wait that long?" He intends to tease you, but he knows he speaks to himself, his jaw locking as he adjusts his arms to press you against him.

You're so fucking soft. It makes him groan. Of all the things he's known in his life, softness was not one of them, save for the flashes of you in his dreams. He craved you like a creature starved. Thoughts of you made him fight better. Made him kill easier.

There's a rumble suddenly of a drone; Harkonnen orders breaking the silence in distorted code. The words don't make sense to your ears. Not yet anyway. You hope to make progress in the language, but it was a challenge; more than others. The variety of tones were a feat for any foreigner to take on; but this was to be your home. A lady of harkonnen would learn her husband's native tongue.

You know he has to leave.

[vaguely-concerned]

when spite describes itself in lucanis' journals, it seems to consistently use the wording 'a small shade'. self-identified 'just a little guy (threat)' fhsak. I really like that wording, though. a shade, something cut off from the wholeness and living light that is the fade and made a shadow cast by someone else in the real world. 'small', under threat, vulnerable, sort of scrappy (and perhaps a little pathetic but in a 'don't touch me I'll bite!!!' kind of way haha).

I'm so in my feelings over how in the last journal it/he describes the two of them as 'a small shade and a wounded spirit sitting together', though. he's so confused and frustrated about what's going on with lucanis at the beginning, but once rook explains that lucanis isn't intentionally fucking with him, he's just hurting, spite seems to understand and accept that pretty readily (if not without some initial 'ugh FINE physical reality rules are so DUMB bitch you guys live like this' frustration lol). lucanis' early statements that spite doesn't, can't or won't learn are obviously bullshit and the game basically tells you so the moment he says it haha, but you know what. that is some deep learning spite is doing, and in like a year of being in the physical world too. I know plenty of actual real adult human beings who are not capable of that level of insight.

and also, as an aside... I think it's pretty conclusively proven in the series that spirits do have the ability to change and learn all on their own when they get the opportunity to and that it gets turbocharged for good or ill when they're exposed to the physical world. but I also wonder if some of it is the other side of the two way connection. just as spite flows into lucanis, surely that must happen after some fashion the other way too. does spite have some access to/come into contact with lucanis' kneejerk empathy response? to be in opposition to something or someone is not the same thing as not understanding them or where they're coming from, after all. in fact sometimes that can amplify the 'no no trust me I get it I understand. but fuck you doubly for it actually you still suck that why only makes it worse', so I don't feel that would go against spite's nature, even. lucanis already has such an interesting relationship to his own empathy all on his own -- he's a prime example of how 'empathy' and 'compassion' are not inherently the same process and one need not accompany the other. when he's in contract mode, empathy is just a knife, a way to understand people deeply so he can stab them better and more efficiently. when he's in family mode, empathy is accompanied with enough tenderness and compassion and warmth that it makes me feel ill to consider and makes it a bit hard for him to stay with, sometimes. it's the same skill/instinct, but shows up differently based on the context he's in. sure why not drop a demon in there and see what happens I guess lol. 'smells like tears and lying' anyone. spite's response to meeting compassion out in the world is 'GOD no don't make eye contact keep walking this is so fucking cringe', but uh. there's no way for him to escape it within the bounds of the person he's been frankensteined into, is there. aaaah it's so interesting.

there's something so fascinating to me about two souls who are so close they can't help but reflect and bleed into each other, but also remain two separate entities who can look at each other. and be mutually protective about it, clearly. augh.

[solar4seekstron]

Megatron x Cybertronian!GN!Reader OneShot: Plan A - Megatron

Part 1

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,

TW/Tags: Bit of Angst, Toxic relationship, takes place after the movie, Megatron has trust issues. I think I’ll make a 2nd part but we’ll see. I like writing for our angsty boy.

After the war you chose to leave Megatron once he left a day before. You told Optimus and the others that you’ve made your choice and you believe you can help bring back D-16. Optimus was hesitant and asked reasonable questions. You told him that you’re willing to stay under cover and do your best. If anything like it becomes too much and if it calls for it. You’ll return to the Autobots. No connection or anything. You would just focus on trying to bring D back.

Your bond was broken from that die. When you told Megatron his way isn't right. But he only saw you as a traitor now. And so with that you carried out your plan. On the next day you transform into a sort of jet. And made your way to where Megatron and the high guard might be. As you kept flying, unknown to you. One of the guards detected you. Megatron knew it was you based on the shape, at least it must’ve been you. He had one of the high guards fly him to you. Getting right behind you on one of the high guards flying to you and before you even noticed and knew it. Megatron landed on top of you. Before telling the high guard that he’ll deal with you. Knowing he’ll be able to handle you one on one.

As he tried to get you to transform, you struggled to stay in the air. He continued, staying on top of you. So as you got lower, you transformed, finally getting him off as you both flew and rolled onto the ground. He was a few feet ahead of you and you were quick to get up. Your legs hurt from the landing. Almost losing your balance as you got up and you surely had a few dents on your body.

You watched as Megatron stood up and turned to you. That angry look in his red optics as he stared you down. He was way more than a few inches taller than you now. “Y/N…..” you backed up. Maybe you didn’t think this fully through.

”Megatron please listen to me I just came to ta-“ He charges at you. It was almost dark and at the same time you weren’t sure what to do. When you backed up you ended up tripping, landing on your aft as he got closer. You tried to protect yourself as he finally got close. Only using your arms to not anger him more with your blasters. Prepared for what ever blow he throws at you soon.

Only for him to stop in front of you. Letting out a few breaths as he stared down at you. He noticed you were shaking and wasn’t going to fight him. His face showed disappointment and his optics narrowed again as his fists fell to his sides.

He looked down at you thinking about what he’s about to do. He’d never hit you. Would He?

Your optics were closed until you finally opened them. You looked at him and you two stared at each other. You were shaking as he remained still. He continued to look at you with an almost tired but angry look. He then kneels down before grabbing your wrist as he brings you closer. You only looked down as you closed your optics. He analyzed you as his optics only closed a bit more. He finally spoke. His voice as dark and rough as before.

”Why….did you come? Prime make you a spy to use me?!” You stayed silent for only a second

”I……Megatron…I changed my mind….a-and…” Your optics start to gain tears as you spoke “I missed you Megatron….I-i can’t-“

”I have no room for weaknesses…no more.” He stood up pulling at your wrist making you stand up. He then held your jaw with a firm grip as he made you up look at him fully. You slowly opened your optics as you looked up at him. He’d then tilt his head to the side a little as his optics look down at you.

”Please Megatron. I just….I just can't live a life. Without knowing you’re out there. D. You’re still in there somewhe-“ His cervo on your wrist tightened causing you pain as he removes his cervo from your chin. Moving his hand to your neck. Gently squeezing. “D-16…..is dead….I Am Megatron.” He says as he leaned his face closer to you.

Now you were mad. You tried to pull your arm away but his grip was firm as he remained still. You used your other cervo to push against his chassis. “My spark belongs to D-16. Not. Megatron. D is still in there and I’ll only follow D-16. And if you can’t get that through your-“

In a fast movement, he pulled at your wrist. His other cervo that was once holding your throat was now around your waist. Both of your chassis together. “Now why is it D-16…instead of Megatron?…..Because I’m no longer weak…all…sweet?” You only had anger in your optics now. “You’re not the bot I fell in love with.” Your digits scratched at his insignia on his chassis. He did a really good job hiding how hurt he got from that……

“…..You’re just a con now.” You two stared at each other. Both of your optics narrowed. What you didn’t expect was him laughing. He was laughing at your face.

“Yes. I’m not him……” He leaned closer to your audio sensors, speaking in a deep voice. “I’m someone better.” Now you were really scared. As he continues to glare down at you. You try again to pull away until his arm is around your waist and his cervo on your upper back makes you stay close. His other cervo no longer holding your jaw. Moving to the back of your helm.

“This time, I can be a Better Conjunx for you.” Your optics widened as you kept trying to pull back. Only to feel Megatrons dermas against yours. Your own cervos pushing and hitting at his shoulders and chassis. His optics closed as yours remained open. Your cervos barely able to scratch his arm. The cervo behind your helm gently squeezed as a warning, making you stop but your cervos remain against his chest. Trying to create some distance.

He missed you. Oh how he deeply missed you. At first he wasn’t sure but knew he was going to be miserable without you. Despite his new found goal in life. You are the only good thing left. Might as well keep you seeing you’re here now. At first he didn’t trust you when you came. But he knows with his new cog and the power he holds….How can you ever protect yourself? Even from him now. He isn’t weaker then you now.

You can be his once more. By his side. Where you belong.

His kiss became more and more passionate. He deepens the kiss as he tilt his helm. His arm squeezing you closer to him and the cervo moved from the back of your helm to the nape of your neck. You were certain he would break your neck until he stopped. His head then leaned back a bit as he opened his optics once more. His optics not even a little softer.

”Y/N You may join me…but you are my Conjunx. Nothing more. Nothing less. And if you were to betray me in any way……Your punishment will become a part of your every being……” He meant it. You know he does. But you know you must stand your ground. Bring back D-16, stop him from this ‘goal’. You were going to suffer you knew this. But whatever comes your way. You can handle it..

”I’ll join you…” Megatrons finally shows a grin. Both of your forhelms touched once more as you knew what to do next. Both of your inner chassis open up and your sparks soon shine and glow.

You closed your optics waiting for the bond as his only stared down at you. His grin never left his face as his hold remained firm. Your bond with him is no longer soft and full of joy. But anger and…..distrust…..his love was there but it was so far. You have a lot of work to do. Megatron leaned forward, his dermas connecting with yours once more. This time you returned the kiss. Yours was gentle but the passion in your kiss was weak as his was more dominant.

Megatron then gets a comm from Soundwave asking where he was. Megatron growled into the kiss and pulled back. Removing his cervo once on the back of your neck to the bridge of his nose as he responds. His optics closed as he listened to Soundwave speak. You looked at his insignia. You know he’ll put one on you..eventually. His other cervo was resting around your waist continueing to hold you close. You looked down as you waited for him to finish. After a few nano cycles. His call ended and let you go. You were honestly happy to be out of his embrace. You didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign on your part.

”Follow me Y/N. It’s time you meet ‘the new team’…” He transformed. You did the same and flew over following him. You’re going to be stuck with Megatron for a very long time…

This was pretty fun to write and I hope you all enjoy this 😊

[easy-there-leftovers]

Magnum Opus Ch. 2

When an MIT prodigy on their gap year is contacted by the FBI regarding potential involvement in a series of murders in Washington D.C., she must now cooperate to uncover how paintings are mysteriously appearing at the crime scenes.(Written with Season 1-4 Spencer in mind, but the timeline could be anywhere pre-season 12. No mentions of past cases)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Artist! reader|cw: Canon-typical violence|word count: 2.6k words

Notes: I made up a bunch of chemicals and their chemical properties up so shhhh!! Also, I'm not American, I have no contextual understanding of the distance of one place to another. The US is large enough.

Also on Ao3!!

Series Masterlist

“Anything new?” Rossi asked as he and Prentiss returned from the crime scene, making his way into the space the MPDC made for the BAU. Surveying the area as he does before stopping abruptly.

“Forensics are running tests on her stuff. She brought everything in. Apparently she didn’t know anything about the murders before we interrogated her.” Morgan shifts his weight from leaning against a desk to approaching  JJ who motions for his help across and out of the room.

“And she’s here with us in the room, why?”

 Hotch feels the scrutiny of his friend’s eyes, so he turns his sight away from where you and Reid stood. 

“Reid doesn’t think she fits the profile and wants her insight on the case. I trust his judgment, so I allowed it.”

“You said that?” Emily asks with furrowed brows. 

“Well, non-verbatim, I said that her knowledge on–”

“And you allowed our prime suspect to help with a case?” The unit chief sighs when Dave interrupts Reid but stays firm.

“I don’t enjoy the idea of it either, but she’s the only lead we have.” 

Rossi shrugs, but keeps a watchful eye on the young pair. Only turning away when Emily starts to debrief the earlier crime scene.

She recounts that they had found Jonathan Edwards’ body, aged 28, seated on the previous apartment owner’s couch. One hand across his chest, and the other placed on his lap. A pose that they assume was the closest their unsub could get to mirroring the man in the painting. 

Same M.O. Cleaned wounds, no IDs, sharply dressed. 

The dark haired woman adds the pictures of the crime scene to the growing collage on the board.

 Seeing all of this was like a backstage view, which excited you! But knowing that your work might have inspired someone to kill? Not so much. 

“When you look at the victimolgy, there are no obvious links. Their occupation, race, and gender are all different. Our unsub here seems mission oriented, only targeting people that bear a striking resemblance to Dr. L/n’s subjects and murdering them in their own homes…”

 You sigh as Spencer continues, eyes searching though the unsettling images.

“They’re someone that the victims might’ve been interested in. Someone that could contact them or schedule to meet in a formal setting. The victims weren’t reported missing until they didn’t show up for work, suggesting that they had met in private on their off hours. They’re also highly educated, likely with a background in chemical engineering or a related field with permission to operate in a lab. Or at least a private space like one. This level of intelligence is evident in the precision the bodies were handled with and the synthesized 5-durastelene in the paint.”

“So we’re looking for someone who is charismatic, well connected, and had access to a lab at some point.” Emily simplifies. 

“Their area of activity is concentrated in the east.” You mention, looking at the map and noticing the pattern of the bodies’ location as it crosses three states. “That’s probably their comfort zone. They either live there or are stationed there for their job.”

You assess the distance. “Assuming the place those three were killed and the place they were found are different, he must be comfortable traveling with a body.” 

He shifts his focus from the board to you, but you keep your vision stationary. “Do you know anyone like that? Someone from there that you’d be on unfriendly terms with? A colleague, a mentor?” 

Well that caught your attention.

“...You think they’re trying to incriminate me?” You feel the space between your brows twitch when you ask. Still staring at the map.

He frowns a little at that and responds. “Do you think they’re not?”

“Well–” You start, but then feel nervous feeling all the attention on you. You’re a little overwhelmed, but press on anyway. “I’m not saying that, it just—seems like a few ‘why’s’ are missing.” 

Why bother adding a painting? Why bother even making them? Why bother mixing durastelene, a compound that would definitely alter the paint’s integrity given its properties, to replicate something the public wouldn’t even know you made? All questions you asked with a more steady tone.

“Let’s not get carried away, kid. We’re trying to see the big picture first.” The senior in the room says.

Picking at the skin of your lips, you acquiesce and turn to finally look at Spencer. 

Spencer feels his eyes flick to your fingers first then to your eyes. “I think they’re trying to send you a message.” 

He looks back to the pictures of your paintings on the scene. Trying to see if he’s missed something.

 “They might believe that by recreating your work, they’re challenging you– establishing a level of superiority. You said that no one should have access to your paintings, so this must have been someone that once knew you intimately and is now mocking you to make a point. It’s not just about incrimination—they’re trying to reach out to you.”

You feel the space between your brows twitch again.

You can think of a few people who might dislike you; competition is expected in the academic world. But the obvious signs of fixation on you suggests two possibilities: you're either being seen as a rival or as an idol.

It’s unlikely that anyone sees an unemployed PhD student with burn-out syndrome as a worthy rival. 

And something tells you that if they really wanted to place the blame on you, they wouldn’t go this far, in this way. 

They might as well have left a note with your name on it and that would’ve been more believable.

Then again, you could just be wrong 

You’re in a room full of professionals. You’re speculating based off of a theory that might not be applicable to your situation due to a variety of factors. There’s a reason this is their job and not yours. 

You take this thought in stride with a deep intake of breath and now slackened shoulders before responding with a careful nod.

“If that’s the case, then I think it’ll be a little hard to find someone that meets the criteria. I didn’t really have friends when I graduated from MIT, and even if I did, they wouldn’t know about my art—not because I kept it hidden–! It’s only because I started painting when I left.”

The team looked a bit sad at the revelation of your almost non-existent social circle, but quickly acted like what you said was normal.

“Let’s focus on anyone that you had worked closely with then.” You nod at that and start discussing possibilities.

—-------------

Spencer is thankful for Hotch’s suggestion as it diverts the earlier attention away from him. He wouldn’t have minded it at any other time if he wasn’t too preoccupied with thoughts of you.

Thoughts of you with regards to the case, he finds himself justifying to no one in particular.

Everyone has tells. A gesture, a change in posture, nonverbal cues that give someone away. They’re hard to hide because it's in human nature to have them. Trying to keep them hidden is essentially like holding your breath. Suspending the inevitable will only make the tells much more noticeable.

And you don’t seem to be doing that. 

On the contrary, it’s the presence of your micro reactions that are throwing him off. He has noticed five pauses, four instances of rapid eye movement, three tonal deviations, two quirks in your glabella, and now your previously leveled shoulders have dropped. 

Maybe it’s because he’s spent a lot of time with people who try to hide them, but seeing an overwhelming amount of tells manifest in you has him scrambling to figure out what each one means.

Within the two hours and 33 minutes that have passed since he was allowed into your home, the only thing he’s found out about you through your interactions is that you’re disorganized, you’re insecure about your intelligence, and that you don’t like being called doctor. 

All superficial quirks. Two hours is too long a time for him to have only figured three things out. 

He’s missing something. Or maybe he’s not looking at it from the right angle.

Before he can think more on the matter, his mind refocuses on the team. 

Penelope had called them to say that she had gone through lists of attendees from all the conferences you’ve spoken at, both private and open-house events, at Aaron Hotchner’s request. 

“I was able to pick out a few names that are poking around here and there, but I’m going to need a little more than that, my dear comrades! Sifting through names of geeks isn't really my favorite pastime.”

“Pen, narrow down the list to names from MIT. We’re looking for a student from the Chemistry programs or a lecturer that might have access to a lab.” Emily supplied, leaning onto the table where the blonde was on screen. 

“Doing just that and���oh! Would you look at that! Looks like the tools aren’t as diligent as they claim to be.” The mocking tone in her voice causes a small smile to creep on your face.

“Caltech?” The bubbly woman snorts at that.

“Anyone in their right mind knows it’s the superior choice! Tech geeks hate MIT.”

“Don’t let our tools hear you then, we have a history of going nuclear.” That certainly earned you a giggle from the woman on the other end. 

“There’s a sense of humor I can get behind! We–”

“Garica, focus.” Hotch said with urgency.

“Yes–I will! I am! So focused in fact that I’ve got a few names, but only one is super consistent—Lecturer Dr. Annaliese Andrews! Looking up this nerd as we speak and—!” 

You all heard the hitch in her breath.

“Oh no….”

“Garcia, what did you find?”

The BAU and you were silent for a moment before Penelope composed herself. “Dr. Andrews owned a lab near the Charles’ river.” 

She shows its location on screen and a picture of your mentor, Dr. Andrews with a notebook in hand, posed in front of it. The picture was from her social media update, and it couldn’t have been taken more than a year or two ago.

“She built it herself in the 80’s and maybe she wasn’t keeping up with safety protocols but eventually a fire broke out, and she–” Then you see a news headline of the same lab on fire.

“How long ago was this?” Hotch demanded. This got the attention of everyone in the room. 

“Uh,” Penelope sat in her office, frantically typing until an article showed up. “This happened around nine months ago, but it says here that her next of kin decided to keep the property.”

They’ve found a stressor.

“That’s impossible.” You countered. “Dr. Andrews had no family. No husband, no kids.”

“Who is the property under now?” Rossi pressed. 

Muttering under her breath, she continues to search. 

“Says here a month later, a workshop was built right where the lab was– Aha! It’s under 35 year old Liam Turner, freelance photographer. He’s got a studio on Bay State Road.” 

Penelope pulls up an image of an almost unremarkable looking man on screen along with a scan of his BA in Visual Studies from Harvard.

“What the hell…” You don’t recognize this guy at all. 

“Do you know him?” Hotch asks and you say no with a shake of your head and upturned brows.

“Right now, I’m not seeing a connection between these two either—anything you guys can give me?”

You want to interject. Something about him seems familiar, but you don’t recognize him from anywhere. 

You want to ask— no–it wouldn’t be your right. They can figure this out themselves and you're still a suspect! Besides, you’re not even sure if– 

“Do you want to say something, Y/n?”

Your head shoots to the voice and you see Spencer staring back at you. Mouth slightly open which lets you know the question probably came from.

 Maybe it’s because he used your given name, maybe it’s the heavy feeling in your stomach. But regardless, his question certainly makes space for you to voice your thoughts as the room awaits your reply.

You feel your shoulders tense as you speak. “Was his name in the list of attendees?”

Garcia checks quickly but she shakes her head to say no. You thought so.

You ask a different question. “Then uh, can you pull up surveillance footage at any of the conferences?”

She does just that and presents a split-screen video from a month before you graduated. One camera was stationed at the back of the room, and the other overhead from where you stood. She speeds it up as the team watches not much movement until Spencer points something out with a start.

 He gestures to the upper right corner where a lone camera man stands on the side, and asks their tech analyst to zoom in.

There lied the face of the man from earlier search with a camera in hand. The thing that makes him special though, Spencer says, is that based on the angle he was holding the lens at, he was focusing only on you and not on your projection.

“He was in the room, but not in the list.” He furrowed his brows.

You shook your head. “He probably wasn’t an official attendee, someone that a lecturer could’ve requested the assistance of last minute— anyways, can we see where the pictures he took were used? Like articles, tabloids?”

“Absolutely, just give me a second…” You all watch a bunch of sites pop up as Garcia combs through anything that may be related. 

In no time however, she comes across a website. 

There on the screen, for all of the team to see, was a blog, or maybe a portfolio, that had snippets from interviews, headlines, and pictures that featured you. Nothing out of the ordinary, but it looks like any image of you that would show up if you were googled were credited under him. 

Conferences. Campus surveys. Even candid conversation with school representatives.

Penelope digs deeper until she finds the first upload. A picture of a sunset taken somewhere on a bridge with a notebook and pen on its ledge. Though it might not have been enough for most people to recognize, Spencer notices it immediately. 

“Garcia, can you pull up the picture of Dr. Andrews with her lab?”

She does just that and he only needs one look before he turns to address his colleagues. “The notebook is the same! His initials, ‘L.T.’ are on her notebook cover, and this picture!”

And as much as you wished you could sympathize with Spencer’s excitement, you were feeling very overwhelmed at the moment. 

Case and point; first you find out your mentor is dead, then you find out you have a stalker that possibly hates your guts. Find out that said stalker may or may not be related to said mentor, who may or may not hate you, and now you have to digest the possibility of him being a murderer as some sort of vengeance arc?

You shake the thought away.

The tie between him and the victims is still something you don’t get. Clean wounds,  no IDs, sharply dressed.

 So you ask.

“Any chance the victims visited Turner’s studio before they disappeared?”

Analog photo developers have no problem working with a lot of chemicals, and IDs are commonly taken for legal confirmation, you share with the team. The only reason they’d be dressed like that was if–

“They—-all booked an appointment with him.”

You almost regret asking.

--------

taglist: @littlewolfieposts, @hiireadstuff, @bibissparkles, @honestlyatotalloser, @r-3dlips, @suzysface , @pinkpantheris , @resistanythingbuttemptation , @pastafairyy , @lynnar-moon , @andromeda-kay , @darling006 , @mambolaxa , @potatovoyager , @whenmypartysover , @oi-oikawa-tooru , @kniselle , @astreaaries , @fullsuns-stuff

[kaileedraws]

Introduction: Adrien Agreste

Hey fellow miraculers! Here’s Adrien and a little about how he’s going to be portrayed in this AU. I’ll list the characteristics and/or problems that I saw in the show and then delve into how I’m going to take things here. Most of the issues I found in his character is just that his issues aren’t really talked about, but the subtext of a great character is there and he definitely has main character potential

1. His outfit

This is honestly a budget issue/creating recognizable characters for the show, but like all characters, I want to see more Gabriel Agreste fashion on him.

2. Love interest or main character?

In the show, it’s said that he’s the main character, but he doesn’t appear as such. A lot of his emotions, struggles, and life isn’t delved into as much as Marinette, yet he has so much potential. He’s a teenage Rapunzel trapped in a tower waiting for his ladybug in shining armor to come save him. I want to explore not only his fears of losing his freedom, but also his experimentation with rebellion and standing up to his father.

3. Adrien as a Model

In the show, his life as a model isn’t talked about really much, he just thinks it’s boring and it’s a nuisance to him. However, with some research, I discovered how horrible it can be. For one, Adrien would become desensitized to personal space and being touched without permission, putting him into awkward positions in his job and even with classmates. He would get taken advantage of a lot easier. As a model and celebrity, Adrien would also experience Parasocial Confusion — which is when a celebrity has difficulty distinguishing between genuine personal connections/love and relationships/infatuations of fans. This would make relationships with him incredibly difficult.

Additionally, model assault is a huge thing in the fashion industry. Unfortunately, because Adrien is such a pushover and people pleaser, this puts him up to be a prime target for abuse that he probably thinks is just normal (yes this happens, I promise, it sucks.) I want to see a huge character arc with him learning about personal boundaries and learning how to enforce them, with his friends teaching him what is Ok and what is not socially.

4. His personality before his mother dies

If I’m not mistaken, I don’t think we ever get much insight into how Adrien is like before Emilie “disappears.” From what we know about her, she is a princess and an actress, which brings me to my headcanon:

Emilie brought Adrien up on broadway shows, fairytales, and romances — this would explain why he has an “old fashioned” ideology that “boys save girls” (S3E3). This would also explain his gentlemanly behavior— like he was literally written/taught his behavior by a princess (he was. Her name is Emilie).

Inspired by musical theatre and the arts, Adrien began to take dance classes, where he meets Chloe Bourgeois — Emilie is to blame for this, and Gabriel would rather him take fencing, but he gives in. Chloe and Adrien become childhood friends through dance and being partnered often is how they became so close. Based on his “breakdancing” moves as Chat Noir, I think it would also be reasonable that he took other forms of dance too, like hiphop.

As Emilie started to get sicker and sicker, his ambitions for dance and the arts faded. He began fencing like his father wanted to and abandoned dancing. He and Chloe still remained close friends — as this was the only friend he was allowed to have. Gabriel knew Chloe’s dad, after all.

Although Emilie was portrayed to be kind, beautiful, and caring, it’s easy to paint memories of a person better than they actually were. Although she was those things, Emilie also was dramatic, hotheaded, and emotional. If Adrien did something wrong, she’d be quick to scold him harshly, but then just as quick to apologize for her outburst. Toward the end of her life, she was also rather absent from Adrien’s life, as she didn’t have much energy to take care of him anymore. It was difficult for her to take care of him as she got more and more sick, and he would often try to be the best little boy he could because he didn’t want to be a burden on top of her sickness. I mean remember, the last 3 years his dad had gotten him a freaking PEN for his birthday. This occurred when Emilie was still alive.

The person who raised him the most was Nathalie — as his mother became weak, and Gabriel became absent

5. Mental health and coping so he isn’t akumatized

Headcanon that to keep himself from being akumatized, Gabriel has him talk to a counselor who prescribes him multiple medications that work a little TOO well. Meaning? Let’s just say that he starts to become numb to feelings and that it’s just another way for his father to control him — His rebellion streak is going to hit hard yo.

Despite these methods, he’s still going to get akumatized — don’t worry, no one is safe.

His mental health illnesses insinuated from the show include depression, ADHD, parasocial confusion, abandonment trauma, social anxiety disorder, attachment disorder/trauma (which leads to lack of boundaries), and to add some spice, probably claustrophobia (or just feeling trapped). This poor boy has so much he needs to shift through and I’m excited to guide him on an arc to healing.

Conclusion

I think Adrien is my favorite character simply because of how there are certain aspects of him that I heavily relate to — plus he’s such a kind soul who has every right to turn into a villain but stays a sunshine golden retriever boy. It takes a lot of strength and determination to go through so much and be good in the end. I can’t wait to write him in this AU and give the boy the healing and happiness he deserves. There’s so much more I could talk about with him, but this is just the beginning!

[omega-e123]

i love the way you write Shadow. I don’t know it’s just so in character of him. Not overly flirtatious, but is subtlety suave at affections. 🙏

AHDOSHSOSHSJSS

THANK YOU V MUCH!! REALLY!! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME

It makes me happy to know I’m not deviating too far from his canon personality. (Even though Boom!Shadow that…. I will ignore. IDW is a hit or miss, theres def some characterization I don’t like, and some spot on from past renditions.)

“Mini” Ranting about out his character below.

I like to think that he’s not really familiar with romantic love. It’s all pretty new to him, but that doesn’t mean Shadow isn’t completely in the dark. hehe

To me, he seems like the type of guy to begrudgingly (/p) go to Rouge and Amy for advice, tips, help. Take things nice and easy.

Shadow’s a smart guy! He can figure things out.

Look at him in SA2 when interacting with Eggman. The mysterious mild manipulation of promise granting him a wish if Egg did his bidding for Chaos emeralds. That’s just one example.

He’s also gentle and kind when he wants to be. At heart a really caring person.

Obviously, his relationship with Maria is a prime example.

There’s the instance of when Amy went to hug him from behind, mistaken for Sonic. He doesn’t push her away. Let’s it happen, stay there until she’s realized her mistake. Looking at the cutscene, it sort of looks like when she runs off, Shadow’s curious about her.

Then the time where he saves Rouge from blowing up, risking his self. It was SO close. The timing of when Shadow came to pick her up. There’s ‘06 too. Which again, I think is his best character arc. The power slide to catch Rouge from falling. OOG. I LOVE THAT SCENE SO MUCH. There’s also in heroes where he gets her to safety when Omega went berserk.

Helped out Sonic too— Most notable ones I can think of is jumping in front of Silver, allow Sonic to escape and save Elise. The other one is when the Phantom Ruby copy of him went to fuck Sonic up and he intervened. Also the entirety of Sonic Prime!

I DIGRESS.

Shadow can also at the same time be a smug, prideful, little shit. Loot at that face!!! He’s so proud of himself.

Of course he’s going to distance himself from people. Imagine having someone you deeply care about die right in front of you again. There’s nothing more that could have been done to save you. Yeah, I’d avoid getting too close to people too!

Shadow is a little meow meow that is doing his best. Give this guy a hug.

Update:

After SxSh Gen, he is shown to be SO much more expressive and more open with his emotions with Maria and Professor Gerald. Spoilers ahead!

After meeting them again, he's quick to think about saving them, not thinkng about the consequences of what that may bring.

His anxiety being shown. Reassuring not only them but himself that his family will be fine. Along with actually showing his panic when they begin to disappear. The facial expression and Shadow's tone of voice. He's not hiding it at all.

GOSH THE SMILE. HIS SMILE. THE SLOW WALKING BACKWARDS, NOT WANTING TO BREAK CONTACT WITH MARIA.

As his relationship grows with his significant other, the more connected to his emotions and safe he feels to display them to you and ONLY YOU.

I definitely think comparing his personality 1 year into the relationship versus 10 years is drastic. First year, he's more cautious. Not just with his inner thoughts but with accidentally offending you. Shadow knows he can be blunt and straight forward. Over time he's so much more comfortable telling you waht is on his mind. Shadow still needs his time to brood and collect himself; however, it comes more naturally to him to reach out when needed.

[rubberduckyrye]

Okay DRV3 Fans Let's Talk about Canon Ages.

Because I woke up and my brain connected the dots, and because some of you are fucking weird about High-school students. So let's clear the air here--and let's just say they're probably over 18 years old.

In my Gonta rant (which yes I'm linking here, go read it) I call him a young adult. Some people are under the impression (like that anon I got last night) that the V3 cast is canonly 16 or younger due to... whatever the fuck reason. But! I am here to argue a counter point--that the V3 Cast is actually much older and are more college age than young highschoolers.

First of all, let's remember the fact that in all DR games, the cast has gone to high school for some amount of years before their memories are wiped. V3 Also has this feature, and it is within the canon story that these kids remember attending HPA.

Now whether or not you believe this to be true is irrelevant right now because I need you to remember that the backstory for these characters was that they were being hunted down by the Ultimate Hunt, which means they were Ultimate Students at HPA first. Then they had their memories wiped to go into hiding. Yada yada.

The important part actually comes from Kirumi, however. Kirumi is the character that proves that the V3 cast is older than 18 years old.

Remember this tidbit--where Kirumi was the maid of the Prime Minister? Well, when do you think she became the maid for the Prime Minister, do you think?

I have an answer for you.

This is the dialogue from Kaito's "My Future" cutscene from DR:S. The "My Future" Cutscenes take place at the end of the run with the character chosen, and DR:S takes place right at the end of their 3rd year of attending HPA.

Kirumi doesn't specify who she will be working for, but considering that this person is such a big deal what she felt the need to consult Kaito about it, to help her sort out her feelings, I think we can all agree this is heavily referencing V3's plot where she is the Prime Minister's Maid.

This means that Kirumi only took the job as the Prime Minister's Maid at the very end of high school.

That means that by the time V3 runs around, she's well out of high school.

Now you can argue that V3 and DR:S aren't in the same canon--and you'd be right! I would never consider them to be canon to one another. However, this scene shows that in DRV3 and in DR:S, the intention for Kirumi to have been the Prime Minister's maid started at the very tail end of her time in high school. Same character, same backstory, different situation.

Meaning by that logic, Kirumi--as well as her other classmates--are over 18 years old in V3.

They are young adults.

[knarme-art]

@recom-week

RETURN TO PANDORA MONTH

DAY 1 - MOUNT DESIGN (1.12.2024)

Ikran Series - Ngulya, Kxasi's Ikran

Name meaning - 'gray air' Bonded to - Kxasi of the Kxayltirey people Age / sex - nearing an older adult's prime, female About - Ngulya's psyche has a calming, comforting effect on Kxasi. She enjoys complex tasks that require good memory, making her an ideal companion to Kxasi, who is very ambitious and energetic.

Above: Only minimally shaded, mostly flat color reference missing the glow effects on the bioluminescent markings.

Above: Ngulya's bioluminescence in dim lighting

Above: Ngulya's bioluminescense in night lighting

History of Ngulya's design

Above: February 18th in 2023 - Here you also see Kxasi's old design. The purplish-gray look and orangeish/reddish bioluminescense have been a part of my vision for Ngulya from the very beginning.

Above: March 9nth in 2023 - Here is my first take for a full reference for Ngulya. This is the point where the pale head and neck became iconic traits to the otherwise dark purple design.

I've always been torn between oranges/browns and actual purples for many of the color areas in this design, as you see from that earlier color draft.

Above: This year, I wanted to finally make proper ikran templates for the sake of more comfortable designing of all my ikran characters.

This is an early version of the final template set I created, and two different drafts of Ngulya.

Sadly I never saved these drafts, so these are just badly compressed screenshots from my Bluesky and Twitter accounts.

The one on the right is my last draft before beginning work on the final one, as I started to be happy with the markings.

The orange one on the left of the 2nd image is not Ngulya, but a draft for another ikran entirely.

Above: For a very long time, I could not make the bioluminescent highlight markings fit anywhere into this design, so I almost called it 'done' in this stage.

The color pallette was more brown than purple. It was a really hard decision to tweak the pallette once more, so I could make it all good-looking with the highlight color.

About my thought process...

I create my ikran OC designs entirely via body/emotional/visual synesthesia. This intuitive process doesn't contain conscious thought, but rather letting an 'inner eye' show me things.

This method lets me get ideas I couldn't otherwise get, unlike when combining my old clichés in a calculated manner etc. Instead of such calculated process, instead I succumb to a more dreamlike intuition where my brain can just fire whatever.

For these ikran, I must feel like I am them, to create their appearances. For the same character, like Kxasi, even for a long period of time, I've been getting the same results with this process...

I imagine the na'vi during their 'Iknimaya' (or equivalent), the type of feeling I would have about them as a person, as if they stood in front of me.

Then, I imagine I'm indeed an ikran looking at them, - what kind of a mental and emotional being would I be, to feel particularly drawn to this na'vi? I imagine the feelings.

These feelings inform me of the ikran's whole design, as well as personality.

Kxasi's ikran Ngulya is a character I can understand, put myself into, imagine her feelings and personality/temperament from the inside, and how she'd feel even when connected with Kxasi's consciousness via tsaheylu.

I can also imagine how Kxasi feels connected to her.

Their personalities contrast each other. Kxasi is hot-headed and energetic, while Ngulya is a calming presence. Usually, Ngulya even discourages Kxasi's antagonistic impulses when they're connected.

However, if overwhelmed by the need to protect, Ngulya's mind will be drunken on quite the berserker's adrenaline, - also affecting Kxasi that same way. Their minds will melt into one demonic entity with the sole goal of turning someone into minced meat. This can be triggered by putting their loved ones or personal home etc. in danger.

Ngulya resembles my favorite, now-deceased dog Lola a lot by her personality. Her 'feel' is very much like what Lola was, even though I did not intentionally create her in Lola's image.

She's funny and silly like Lola, obsessive and persistent in tasks like Lola, has basically endless energy to run (fly), hunt and play, - and there is a soft comforting energy to her. She's also fiercely territorial and protective, - just like Lola... I definitely see her as a Pisces, like that dog was, also.

[quirekey]

Part two of sentinel and femme reader fic pls!!! Really loved the first part, Tysm🙏💗💗

PART 1

Golly, part 2 it is then :)

TW: Forced relationship, Implied SH, Blackmail

• SENTINEL PRIME x FEMME!READER •

[ sentinel prime x cybertronian!femme!queen!reader ]

With no room to argue, you slowly opened your chassis to show your spark. You were vulnerable but you had nothing to lose. Sentinel opens his chassis to show his spark and closes the distance between you and him. Both your sparks electrified and glowed, a warm aura hugging the both of you as you slowly relaxed and shut your optics.

You woke from your unconscious form, waking with a harshly aching spark. It is electrified and magnetised inside, pounding against your chassis. It swirled with a bright blue glow and it hummed a gentle melody, ringing quietly. You shut your optics harshly as you were in a strong feeling of denial. You were in a forced bond, a bond that only the most special of bots should feel for one another. Though you loved Sentinel beforehand, you have lost these feelings over time when you left him.

You both are greedy for different things, you both see your citizens in different ways, you both are the same but in a different way. Though Sentinel may be just like you, you know deep down that you both aren’t made for each other for a reason.

You sat up in the berth that was delicately made just for your body type, the metal feeling soft and gentle against yours. The same structural aesthetic was made. Shiny gold pillars, sharp edges and smooth surfaces. Seemingly everything in this building had the same architectural design and characteristics.

Some pattering became louder and the one and only, Sentinel Prime, came in with a smile full of mischievous greed. His frame reflected the light off of the walls, beaming blue.

“Hello darling! Seems like you’re awake, took you long enough…”

His tone changed from his usual stoic voice to a seemingly impatient one very quickly.

“Fate has finally chosen the right answer for the both of us. We have finally connected into the strongest bond in all of Cybertron. You can not escape my grasp.”

“Shove it, Sentinel. You know that I don’t love you anymore.”

Sentinel then came up to you with a forced smile, his eyebrow twitching. He grabbed your chin between his thumb and index finger and forced you to face him.

“Shut it, Y/N. You are now stuck with me. I have announced it to all of Iacon, so if you leave me then we will have problems.”

He then pulled his arm away and scoffed. He backed away and gave a smile that only you could see through.

“So, what about you oblige and obey me? If you don’t, you will then soonly meet your fate in the palm of my hand, if you know what I mean.”

“Sentinel… You really did change…”

You backed away in your berth, a panicked expression falling onto your face. You decided to not fight back or you may just be slapped. It was now harder to predict him, you didn’t understand him anymore. You were stuck in a hole that was impossible to climb out of.

Sentinel chuckled to himself and made his way out. He put himself to a stop and spoke up with a charmingly devious tone.

“You should get ready, sparkmate. You will have many fresh optics on you very soon…”

He then exited the room, leaving you there. How the weight of your mentality was dropped onto you. The power of your feelings fell upon you and caressed you into a dark embrace, an embrace nobody could ever get rid off or escape from. Your feeling of hope was draining and dimming by the second, the sparkling feeling slowly fading from your spark. Oh how you just wanted to curl up and slowly offline and wither, only if that was so easy.

You forced yourself up from your berth and a high-guard immediately bursted in. They grabbed you by your arm and dragged you to a station where you then got your metal cleaned and was given a very exquisite paint job. You were impressed on how well each spray was calculated. Seemingly the paint was made of the finest of ingredients.

You made your way to Sentinel Prime who sat at his throne. He was just relaxing and waiting for you, he was definitely getting impatient so thankfully you just finished. He got up from his throne and went down to you, taking your hand into his with a gentle grip.

…

After you were introduced to all of Iacon, you were sent straight back to your room. You were sitting in the corner, gripping harshly onto your helm. All you wanted to do was slice a massive scar across your chassis and one stab into your spark. You did not have freedom over yourself anymore, you were under the control of Sentinel Prime and the pressure of all of Iacon. Sentinel Prime threatened to tell everybody what you have done to your ‘lost city’ and also will ruin you if you disobeyed him.

…

Sentinel came into your room with a grin. He went up to you and put his hands on your face, caressing your features in a soothing motion. His optics gleamed with both love and greed and his smile spoke many words. He forcefully pulled you close and your chassis as against his.

“How I waited so long for this moment, I’m surprised it didn't happen sooner…”

TO BE CONTINUED

[doshi-sukiru]

Do you have any more random headcanons for TFOne Shattered Glass? Like, maybe about how Megatronus Prime interacts with Megatron via their shared TCog (I LOVE THAT btw!!!) or if the decepticons are fighting off the Autobots and the Quintessons, or just one of them? Also, I remember Megatronus Prime used a spear, does Megatron use that as well, or does he stick to his canon?

(Also your sg designs are so pretty, especially Megatron, I love the detail about the purple sheen to his armor!)

I hope you are having a wonderful day!

Ofc I do! I have quite a few made with @angstychilz!

Headcannons!

Some other ships apart from megop that exist in this au: Blitzbee, Jazzprowl, and Skystar

The high guard are all connected through a major com, which Soundwave uses in the morning to blast some old school Cybertronian beats to help the bots wake up early and to get his own morale up. The first time Megatron wakes up from it, it scares the fuck out of him. He might have accidently punched Starscream out of adrenaline when the other mech woke up beside him confused-

Megatron can never predict when Megatronus's spark speaks to him. It's a hit-or-miss situation on his side. He sometimes gets found by the other Decepticons talking and, sometimes, yelling to himself in anger, and it confuses everyone.

Megatronus will occasionally watch from afar Megatron suffering, and sometimes laughs at him for his minor mistakes, which only encourages more yelling from Megatron.

Similar to Megatron's TCog, the other TCogs and the matrix also act similar! So Solus Prime would talk to Elita and Onyx Prime would talk to B-127 (I don't remember exactly what cogs they were given tbh-). The matrix acts as a hub spot, where all the Primes gather and discuss with each other and Optimus. Note: none of the primes know that Megatronus can communicate with Megatron, and assume his cog was lost to the pit. Optimus does not know about this either.

The Decepticons don't fight the Quintessons often. If they show up near their location they'll fight, but otherwise keep to themselves. Same as the Autobots after Megatron saw how ruthless they would be against the Decepticons.

Megatronus's spear isn't used by Megatron. With Megatronus's help he'd find it with the other Primes corpses, have it repaired with Shockwave's help and even alter it to become more easier to carry, since the spear is both heavier and bigger than Megs. He only sees it as a backup, and keeps it transformed as a small pocket-sized tube to keep at his side. He prefers to be at a distance from the battlefield to strategize better.

Sentinel's frame was smelted and forced into a grisly statue laying at the feet of a statue of Optimus Prime, and it placed in the central area of Iacon. It's meant to acknowledge the sol that the "true Prime" reclaimed Iacon, as well as a morbid message to any rebellious bots who might try to go against him what the consequences may be.

Any mech or femme who tries to leave Iacon to join the Decepticons in secret have to escape Jazz and Prowl. Live or die, it matters not. Regardless of the outcome, your existence in Iacon will cease to exist. You will be considered a 'missing mech' or considered an enemy to the peace Optimus brought. So far, only Blitzwing has actually managed to escape them with some injuries, and that was with Bee's help.

Optimus knows how his words can get any mech to follow him if he says the right ones. This is how he keeps the people of Iacon under his whim, and focuses on the people's needs often to keep up the image. Remember, his original dream was that all were treated equal. And he is going to fulfill it as a Prime, and make sure all bots are treated equally. Under him, where they belong.

Optimus still cares about Megatron, but in a possessive way. To him, he only sees his D-16 reframed and misguided by the Seeker Starscream's words, and kept hidden by the high guard. He regrets banishing his old companion, and will go on secret missions while leaving Elita in temporary control to seek out the Decepticons location to steal Megatron and force him to follow their ways, just as D-16 would do back then.

Addition to that hc^- He keeps a bust of D-16 in his private room (don't ask how he got it or who made it, they died after making it) and often talks to the bust like it was D-16, which confuses the other Primes at times, and Megatronus often questions what Megatron actually sees in him.

Megatron sees how many of the Decepticons need repairs, and figures out that the cyberdeer are very useful for scrap. He understands the idea of overhunting, and instead creates an area for them to specifically live within the hidden location of the Decepticons. He keeps a few in farther locations around the location to act as signals, and had Soundwave take care of the ones farther away, since he knows how much the mech enjoys the creatures

Addition to that^- Shockwave keeps Soundwave away when they are needed for scraps and actively lie to him that they freed them elsewhere to prevent him from crying. When Thundercracker told him the truth he didn't leave his berth for a good cyber-week before Rumble and Frenzy convinced him to. He forever holds it against them whenever he has the chance.

This is based off of this hc (angsty and I had a whole convo about this-) - to summarize, it was fate that D-16 died, if only to push Orion to become the Prime he was meant to be and continue Primus's Legacy, but the return of Megatron causes a shift in this 'fate,' and while Primus himself can't actually try to have him killed, but implement that mindset to some of the Autobots to keep fate balanced, and to ensure Optimus stays on the path he was given as Prime instead of wanting Megatron.

Bee's descent to becoming Goldbug isn't a pretty one. Optimus gave him 3 strikes, and he lost every one when it came to helping Megatron escape Optimus and helping Blitzwing despite his orders.

Elita acts 100% like Starscream when Optimus doesn't return within a sol. When Optimus returns she acts like she was just keeping things under control for him. Optimus knows, but he doesn't mind, since not much changes, and she only acts like this in his absence.

Skyfire was a Decepticon, and had left with the high guard in the beginning, before eventually leaving and becoming an Autobot to protect his and Starscream's sparkling because they would have a better future in Iacon than on the surface

SOME NFSW HCS!!

Optimus is a top, and Megs is a bottom. Optimus has a silver tongue, and always convinces Megs whenever in private.

They did have a moment when they were alone after the factions were made, and after Megs begged Optimus to show him that Orion was still inside there, they did it.

Megatronus was the first to notice Megatron was carrying Optimus's sparkling in him after a cyber-week or so from that night.

The Decepticons get extremely protective for Megatron after finding out he was sparked, and Optimus was the sire. Starscream and Soundwave always make sure he's kept comfortable and safe and hidden from both the Autobots and quints.

The moment Optimus learns that Megs is sparked, he gets more ruthless in battle, and will tear apart any mech who fails to find Megs by now.

Any other questions can go to my inbox!

[nothingenoughao3]

Daniel Cain: Reefernator

"Dan Cain is a stoner in the novelization!"

I have never been less surprised by a characterization and it's one of the only things I'll accept from the novel as canon. Because it was already canon in the movie. I know old Gen X stoner types and I know Dan is one of them, I know it in my bones.

Behold, the home of a man who smokes a titanic amount of grass whenever he's not onscreen:

[ID: three screenshots from "Re-Animator". The first shows Meg in shadow; the second shows Meg peering into Herbert West's room; the third shows Dan standing by the door with a baseball bat, and Herbert with a medical textbook on the sofa. End ID.]

Without exception, every single windowpane in 666 Darkmoor is curtained.

The curtains are eternally drawn, day or night.

The lamp could not be loved by a cocaine-snorting yuppie. Only by a stoner who likes to play with the fringe once he's on his fifth bowl.

He still hasn't unpacked most of his shit (but I promise you this: he did unpack the box that was labeled as "first aid/bathroom stuff" but it held his glass Gandalf pipe cautiously wrapped in bubble paper, and a wooden box with his stash and his grinder in it).

Dan has house plants because he thinks that freshens the air and lessens the smell of green. He is wrong. He also feels a spiritual connection to the plants when he's giga-high. He is right.

Most telling of all, he has tacked up towels and/or random pieces of cloth over the glass windows in the doors. THAT is prime "I don't want the cops to see me smoking grass" behavior.

This is the home where the air can give you a contact high. This is the home of a man who can direct you to the nearest ditch where marijuana is growing wild in any subdivision of Arkham. It's only missing a Frank Frazetta poster and a painting of mushrooms with faces, and only because they're still in one of those boxes Dan hasn't unpacked yet.

Dan Cain can roll a blunt that will give you an out-of-body experience. Dan Cain can take fat rips off a bong that will render lesser folks speechless, melting into the sofa, and gently hallucinating. Dan Cain says your edibles ain't shit and he means it for real.

And you just know that when Herbert walked in and took a single breath, he went "Oh, okay, if blackmailing him for banging the Dean's daughter doesn't work, I can always, as humans say, 'rat him out' to 'the fuzz'."

[eatingfireflies]

Had to pull this quote up while talking to a friend about an interpretation I disagreed with, namely: Ratio never sought the gaze of Nous, Margaret was stupid for even interpreting Ratio's character story 3 as him being disappointed about getting invited by the IPC instead etc etc. and his self-deprecating laugh was only because he's so disappointed that he was invited by Capitalism Company despite all his achievements proving his ethics (but do they?)

I disagree, this is Margaret slander. That woman was Ratio's assistant, I doubt she was stupid.

Tell me this man is not bothered by it. Tell me it's not a sore point, even if he's over it by now he was/is bothered enough to actually talk about it.

Honestly I was gonna make a light-hearted joke about Aventurine being that person who shows off his relationship with Ratio, 'He's always like that, please don't mind him ☺️' 'He's the one who understands my way of fighting best ☺️' 'I thought you'd given up on this dream you've never told anyone else about except presumably me because I'm just dropping it in conversation so casually like this ☺️'

But let's talk about that anti-planetary weapon

I hand tinfoil hats to everyone who clicked on read more. Please don't believe anything I say. Especially under here where no one else can see us.

- No mention of what affiliations Ratio had before the invitation from the IPC. If we trust HSR timelines (which we shouldn't but we have nothing else), Ratio was already a full-fledged professor in Veritas Prime University before Aventurine became a Stoneheart. So: before he joined the Intelligentsia Guild, his main affiliation was with the university.

- The anti-planetary weapon was already completed when he received the IPC invitation

- Which still leaves us the question: whom did Ratio develop this weapon for and why?

There's some echoes of Chadwick in there that I think is probably a coincidence but something we might want to keep in mind. Ratio also provides schematics on how to turn the Express into a weapon.

One thing tho: Chadwick was a Genius Society member. Ratio is not.

- Minus the Astral Express weapon (which we do see in action in the Penacony Boss fight ? So like was that connected? 😂), everything else Ratio has done that we know of is mostly about improving people's lives. That anti-planetary weapon is like a blight on his otherwise stellar CV.

- My conclusion: he developed that weapon solely to catch the gaze of Nous. And he failed and it was a moment that felt like selling his soul for one corn chip. The IPC invite was a nail on the coffin: this is what he sold his ethics for.

Like the 'Ofc Ratio laughed because he can't believe the audacity of Capitalism Company asking him to join them when he's completely against everything they stand for'

But my friend, he joined the IPC. He's an IPC delegate. He's married to an IPC superintendent.

Ratio had to give up on the Nous deal and had to go with the next best thing. But Ratio from Story 3 was young and probably still felt some pressure to prove something, or meet expectations. The Ratio we met in 1.6 knows better.

[blueikeproductions]

So with TFONE now on streaming, it’s now number 1 on P+, and introduces audiences to the modern version of the origins of the Great War.

But how did the Great War start before hand?

For the most part, it’s pretty simple: Most series revolve around both factions fighting over energy sources when we first meet the Transformers. This power struggle would more often than not depict the war stalemating due to an energy crisis or the energy crisis being part of the reason the war started to begin with.

Occasionally the question is brought up why the Autobots and Decepticons can’t get along…

The Decepticons are pretty typically war mongering villains, wanting to pillage and plunder the galaxy to rule over it, while the Autobots oppose them for the good of Cybertron and other innocent lifeforms caught in the conflict.

For the most part, the cartoons don’t divulge too much into any deeper ideological differences, the Decepticons want power and will hurt people to get it, the Autobots want to protect. That’s about the long and short of it.

The original cartoon and some comics would later explain this is a genetic difference due to their creation. The Quintessons built the robots to be Consumer Goods and Military Hardware, with the Military robots desiring power and conquest some time after the Quintessons were chased off Cybertron. The comics would suggest the Decepticons are a natural yang to the Autobots’ Yin, futher established with the ancient evil mechanoid, Liege Maximo, being the one who the Decepticons descended from. Unlike today, most media would cast Megatron and Optimus as simply being the current leaders of their respective sides, with Optimus coming into the battle a little later after Megatron was established. Likewise, both would have successors, like RatBat and Bludgeon in the comics or Deathsaurus and Violenjiger in anime while the Autobots had Grimlock, Rodimus Prime, Star Saber and Dai Atlas. There clearly was an intent for a line of succession that today is mostly ignored.

Anyway, the 80’s cartoon was very consistent that the Decepticons were the cause of the conflict, and that Cybertron was plagued with several wars prior to Optimus and Megatron’s time, with each side declaring victory at various points.

Curiously, an aborted concept prior to the 80’s movie would’ve explained the Decepticons were a separate alien robot race that invaded Cybertron in its prehistory, which would’ve greatly changed things had that been retained.

While the Marvel Comics would mostly retain ideas from the carton, the earlier issues would reveal Transforming was a war time invention of the Decepticons, which the Autobots would later copy. This was of course retconned later with the Primus origin story, while the cartoon would show Transforming as an Autobot invention during the war.

The UK comics would attempt to elaborate the origins of the Decepticons by depicting the athletic Megatron and his early followers being survivors of their destroyed city states during early conflicts over dwindling energy resources on Cybertron. While Optimus and Megatron were former athletic rivals, their connection and rivalry became more solidified during war time.

Cartoons would largely stick to the simpler direction of Autobots and Decepticons being morally opposed, one Heroic and Good, the other Dastardly and Evil.

Japanese media in particular goes pretty hard in this direction where the Autobots and their Maximal descendants are pretty firmly established as peace keepers and heroic ambassadors of justice, helping other races evolve and grow by pooling technology and resources, resulting in Autobot City on Earth, Earth Defense Command and collaborations with other organic and mechanical races. The Decepticons meanwhile are a corrosive force aiming for wanton destruction and power lust, led by various so called Emperors of Destruction like Scorponok and Deathsaurus post Galvatron. The only real exception to this in Japanese media was the reveal Deathsaurus’ Decepticons were only fighting to keep their families alive aboard Deathsaurus’ fortress. His wife kept tabs on things there and was actually kind of a sweetheart, though this is only unique to the manga. Anime Deathsaurus had no family and was hellbent on wanting to blow up Earth to prove a point out of spite.

Armada is pry the only time where the question was asked as to why both sides are fighting, to the point the modern Autobots and Decepticons ask this themselves and show uncertainty as to what both were originally fighting for in the first place. The show would establish that while the war started similarly to G1, the sudden appearance of the evolution granting Mini-Cons aggravated things further.

The anime would later explain the Mini-Cons, and his Acolyte Sideways, were created by Unicron as a means to keep the war going, as the anger and hatred of the war sustained him.

Unicron somewhat rightly called out both factions as merely being war machines that loved fighting and wouldn’t know what to do with themselves outside of that environment. It gave Optimus pause, and Galvatron seems to silently acknowledge this is true to some extent, but Optimus still values what he feels the Autobots have been fighting for thanks to the humans and Mini-Cons: peace for all. Optimus will fight, to eradicate the evil plaguing Cybertron in Unicron and those among the Decepticons who won’t quit.

Thanks to a time paradox that saw Rad, Carlos and Alexis travel to the era of the Mini-Cons’ creation and bond with them back then, this ensured Unicron and the Decepticons’ ambitions would unravel in the future, seeing the Mini-Cons gradually evolve into beings celebrating peace rather than just being “smart tools” for war time.

What makes it funnier for Armada, is the Dreamwave version of events featured a short comic about peace ambassadors coming to Cybertron to attempt to diffuse the situation.

The surviving ambassador hoped it would work itself out and got the heck out of Cybertron.

While the Great War was still the main war, other series would state Cybertron was constantly at war, with the Great War simply being the current one. Past wars, like the cartoon, were either waged by the Autobots and Decepticons’ ancestors or caused by an alien invasion by the Quintessons or other races with an axe to grind with Cybertron.

The Bay films would famously introduce the life giving Allspark which for a lot of media, became the primary reason why the Autobots and Decepticons went to war. The Decepticons wanted to abuse its power for their own gain, like the Skeksis wanted with the Dark Crystal, while the Autobots couldn’t let that happen, seeing the relic ejected from Cybertron, condemning it to a slow death until the relic was found on Earth, prompting both sides to go there to fetch it. While Earth’s inclusion in the war originally was to both explain why the Transformers turn into vehicles and Earth animals, and that our planet is abundant in resources the Decepticons would seek to use, that became secondary as the Allspark was viewed as more important. Ancillary movie material would start to lay the foundation that Megatron started the war out of jealousy and growing idealogical resentment at Optimus.

Today, thanks to TFONE, but also the Bay films and Aligned, the Great War caused by the Decepticons started instead by a falling out by Optimus and Megatron who originally were former friends with similar ideals for Cybertron. The duo had managed to stop the initial corruption plaguing Cybertron, but Megatron’s anger, hated and growing resentment and superiority saw him break ties and start a new War to eradicate the Autobots and to fully remove any trace of the false Primes and leaders he felt Optimus now represented.

This concept had shaky ground though, as I feel it unintentionally painted the Decepticons being in the right, and the Autobots being in the wrong. IDW (and later WFC & Cyberverse) milked this for all it was worth, painting the Decepticons as misunderstood freedom fighters who lost their way, while the Autobots while still trying to uphold peace and justice, did appear to come off as simply defending the system some of them benefited from. Megatron would later become more of an antihero, painting his current EarthSpark counterpart being reformed and working with Optimus once more, but still clearly struggling in areas due to Optimus’ view points to keep Megatron in check.

This modern idea isn’t super popular with veteran fans, with Autobot Megatron being a particular point of irritation due to how unbelievable Megatron would change his mind is based on the writers making both factions irredeemably awful and gray in IDW, WFC and Cyberverse.

TFONE is the only thing to come out that far better articulates the idea, though not without some parts feeling a little forced, it’s still the only thing that makes it far more believable Optimus and Megatron used to be close friends. In this version of events, Optimus was more of a thrill seeking, reckless adventurer type wanting to prove his worth, while Megatron fully believed in the system and was content to be a cog in the machine that benefited Cybertron. This is much more understandable as older stuff tended to cast Optimus as a quiet book worm while Megatron was the more loud ambitious one, which felt at odds with the modern political nature of the war. TFONE Megatron’s hero worship of Sentinel and belief in the system shattered and turned into part self loathing and full on anger and frustration makes so much more sense, and his growing resentment at Optimus for dragging him on wild goose chases in their youth also fits the modern ideas better.

Chief among them, TFONE fixes the problem Aligned had, by instead having the Decepticons originate as the entitled upper class (like Airachnid and Darkwing) and disgruntled, power seeking High Guard led by Starscream, while the Autobots originated as the oppressed Miner class. I think the key difference going forward is Optimus still sought equality and brought it by both proving what the Miners can do at the Iacon races and by providing the Miners with their T-Cogs and restoring flowing Energon to the energy starved planet that Sentinel created. Megatron meanwhile is still stewing in his loathing and hatred born from his disbelief at what his hero Sentinel has done, and what he feels is Optimus contributing to it (when he’s clearly not). It’s fairly simple for what it is, and it works perfectly.

The energy crisis is also brought back in the film, a problem Sentinel caused, which I think helps better explain further stress on why the war broke out. Considering the Quintessons have a stake in Cybertron’s Energon, the continued need for energy I would assume would still play a role in a potential sequel. Skybound also returned to energy being a driving factor, though it’s unclear as if typing if Optimus and Megatron were former friends here, I’m leaning towards no. What context we do get with him leans towards his older G1 cartoon self, wanting to completely eradicate the Autobots as well as having a corrosive, manipulative personality, shaping those like Starscream into the monster he is today. No trace of the modern lingering hope the two have that they could go back to being friends seems to be here.

How newer versions of the Great War are shaped post TFONE, within CyberWorld and during Skybound we have yet to see, but however it works in the future will likely depend on which version the creators want to go with Megatron…

[heich0e]

THE WITCH'S SONG - part one knight!osamu/witch!reader tags: fem!reader, royalty!au, supernatural!au, witchcraft, enemies to lovers, mentions of violence/illness/death, persecution and oppression, tw blood, please read the tags on each chapter as updated and minors do not interact. crossposted to ao3 MASTERLIST

The night air is sweet. 

It’s still early summer, where the days are warm and bright before giving way to cool evenings, and the smell spring unfurled with its budding leaves continues to linger long after the sun sets. The aroma is fresh and green, not yet turned to the heady fragrance of singed grass and warmed earth which will slowly seep in as the days grow longer and the sun ever-brighter overhead.

There’s something captivating about this time of year; not quite the lush, blooming spring, nor the scorching, unforgiving summer, but a deliriously pleasant in-between that keeps the best of both.

On a tall hill, overlooking the rocky coast and a quiet village in the distance, sits a small stone cottage. Ivy crawls along the rows of uneven bricks that give the home its shape, having long settled and slanted in the time since it was built, each vine curling in long stems around four-pane windows and up towards the thatched roof. 

In front of the house sits a garden, full of every plant anyone could possibly desire to find in the given climate; vegetables, fruits and unusual herbs abound. The rich earth that surrounds the cottage is fertile and generous—with a careful hand to till and tend it, there’s little it can't sprout. The gardens are still not quite at their peak for the season, the plants low to the ground but flourishing as they patiently wait for a few more sun-filled days to truly blossom into their prime. 

Along the western side of the property, nearest to the towering forest’s edge, sits a greenhouse connected to a shabby little shed that greatly resembles the cottage in its quaint, unassuming construction. It’s there, in the dead of this cool summer night, that you—the owner of the cottage—toil.

Your fingers hold a glass vial over a small open flame atop the work station with a set of silver pincers. Your keen, well-trained eyes watch attentively as the fire licks up along the edges of the glass, heating the contents within. A breeze, northeasterly with a faint taste of salt air that creeps in with the nearby waves, whisks through the room and a shiver accompanies it in turn. 

A soft sigh slips through your parted lips and your eyes, previously fixed on the tincture held over the flame, lift towards the door. 

You aren’t startled when you see him standing there, though you barely contain the sound of annoyance that threatens to leave you; the momentary glance is the only acknowledgement you make to his (notably unwelcome) appearance as his figure darkens your doorway. You return your gaze to the solution you’re in the midst of preparing—a careful balance of valerian, mugwort, and poppy heads for a woman in the nearby village who has been unable to sleep restfully since the untimely death of her husband.

“Good evenin’,” he says to you once he realizes that you will not be the first to speak. He punctuates the greeting with a light clearing of his throat.

“Is it?” you reply, removing the slender vial from the flame and swirling its contents. You closely examine the colour and viscosity of the liquid, returning it to the heat for a few moments more after some consideration. 

“Sorry to show up unannounced,” the young man’s own tone is rather tight and clipped as he speaks the words–obviously equally unhappy with the turn of events that had led him to your cottage this evening, though resolute to maintain some level of decorum. 

“And yet,”—you finally look up at him, meeting his gaze with a firm and unwavering stare that you have up until this point denied him—“here you are.” 

Finally satisfied with the tincture, you set about pressing a stopper into the tube. You reach over and pluck up a burning taper from the candleholder resting nearby on your worktop, tipping it forward over the still blisteringly-hot glass to seal the cork. A rivulet of molten wax runs from the candlestick in a slow drizzle, and you carefully turn the thin vial to coat the border where glass and cork marry evenly. A piece of blue ribbon is then carefully wound around the warm wax before it has fully hardened, sealing the small vessel shut. 

The man watches silently as you slip the vial into a velvet pouch, tying the strings together tightly to draw it closed, and then you tuck the pouch safely away in the pocket of your flowing skirt—out of sight from where your visitor stands in the doorway to the greenhouse. Your eyes scan over the bench for a moment before you extinguish the oil burner you’d been using, turning the small knob at the base until the flame shrinks down to nothingness. 

“I wouldn’t’ve come if it weren’t important,” the young man’s tone has softened slightly into something closer to a mumble, weary from his journey and seemingly in grave need of something he could only seek from you. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, with grim shadows under his eyes and a pallor to his skin that doesn’t suit him.

“Now that I do believe,” you remark, almost drolly, picking up your oil lamp and crossing the room towards where he stands. He stiffens a little as you approach, as though bracing himself against a threat, but you merely slip soundlessly past him, stepping out into the dark night. 

Behind you, the man sighs.

He follows.

The two of you cross the yard, a few paces separating you throughout the silent trek, with the lamp you hold in hand the only light to lead the way. You tread carefully through the well-tended garden, careful but familiar motions deciding where each foot falls, and you sense without turning that he’s following your path as you move towards the stone cottage on the other side of the property—ensuring his own steps follow your footprints precisely. There are candles burning inside your cottage up ahead, their warm glow visible through the windows, and smoke curls steadily from the chimney and into the brisk night air. The smoke is perfumed with herbs, and the scent only grows stronger the nearer you get to your home.

You wonder if he notices.

“That’s far enough.”

You pause in your stride as you reach the stout stone wall that circles your cottage in a knee-high ring, resting with your feet together at the place where a gate might be were there any need for it. Behind you, the man falters to his own stop, surprised by your sudden halt and your sharp words.

“I need yer help,” he sounds confused, and frustrated—impatience creeping into his tone again. There’s a sharpness to it, like he’s forced each word out from between clenched teeth. You don’t look back to verify your suspicion. 

Another cold wind blows from the direction of the sea, and the budding leaves of the garden’s plants around you rustle as it passes, whispering amongst themselves as they spectate your exchange.

“I care very little for what you need, Miya Osamu,”—you glance at him over your shoulder, and see the way the distant light from your windows dances in his eyes—“and it will be a cold day in hell before I help a royal knight.”

The garden seems to still in the wake of your low-spoken words, the breeze dying out like the temporary peace ahead of a storm’s rage.

Before you, Osamu’s eyes have hardened. The lines of his sharp jaw set underneath his skin.

“Ya know me.”

“I know of you,” you correct him flatly. “Fortunately, our paths have never crossed.”

Until now.

Osamu’s nostrils flare, then he swallows.

“How?” he asks, his voice low and deceptively even.

“One of the king’s most trusted knights tearing through the outskirts of the kingdom in search of a healer is news powerful enough to reach even my ears, Miya.” Your lamplight dims slightly as you hold it aloft in your hand, the flame beneath the glass slowly shrinking. The oil is burning low. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you got desperate and I got unlucky.”

He flinches, his lashes fluttering slightly like he’s fighting back a more violent reaction. Like he’s accepting a blow he could easily return but chooses not to. The knight's gaze casts down to his feet as his fingers curl into fists at his sides.

“My brother's ill,” he says quietly, his voice heavy with an anxiety that rolls off of him in waves. “My twin.”

“Atsumu,” you specify, since he did not. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, and there’s a spark of something new behind it. Something more volatile. He looks angry that you’ve taken it upon yourself to speak his brother’s name.

“I know what you are,” he says slowly, wielding his next words like a blade and aiming to kill.

“Oh?” You tilt your head to the side in a show of guilelessness. 

“Yer a witch,” he continues, overlooking your feigned ignorance. 

“There are no witches in this kingdom,” you reply. “The crown you’ve sworn your life to saw to that.”

“Our king h—“

“Your king,” you interrupt him. The unexpected interjection seems to shock him, and his shoulders square indignantly.

“Yer also a subject of this kingdom,” he counters, and your distaste is made perfectly evident in your responding sneer. 

“I’m governed by no monarch, and certainly by no man.”

Osamu’s hands are still held in tightly-clenched fists at his side, the lines of his body as clear an indicator as any to his palpable anger. “You’d admit to treason before a knight?” 

“You’ve already accused me of witchcraft,” you spit, your teeth gnashing together as you force the words out. “What’s another crime to be burned for?”

You know all too well the end that awaits a woman accused of such a crime.

It’s the fate your mother met before your very eyes, after all.

Seconds stretch between you in the garden—sticky, and uncomfortable, and polluted with the animosity you feel for each other. It takes root in distrust and blossoms into something ugly, like a weed.

Osamu takes a breath, letting his head hang forward. His shoulders slump.

 “An old man two towns west from here told me a young woman in this cottage once cured his ailing wife in her final hours, and she lived a decade more. That she was brought back from the brink of death thanks to the woman’s care.” He looks up at you again, and his stare is insistent. Beseeching.

You know the man he speaks of, and his gentle, lovely wife. It was half a century ago now since you’d first met them, and you’ve heard the old man has gone a bit senile in his old age. You doubt he meant you any harm in his revelation, regardless of the trouble it’s come to cause.

“I’m nothing but a humble herbalist.” Your hand sweeps out in gesture to your garden, but the man before you is unmoved.

“Who’s been a young woman for fifty years.”

Even the distant sea seems to have stilled as the tension intensifies between you, the waves falling silent to make room for the hostility that spreads with every passing moment.

Osamu swallows. “They say witches have powerful healin’ abilities. That you can make potions that’ll revive a man half-dead.”

“It’s folklore,” you reply dismissively.

“It’s fact,” Osamu snaps. "I know it is."

“And what else do you claim to know of these so-called witches?” you deride, and you don’t miss the way his eyes seem to quickly trace you.

He squares his shoulders, then he meets your gaze. “They say ya maintain yer beauty and youth by devourin’ the hearts of good men.”

“Is that so?” you muse, though you seek no sincere elaboration. You look to your left, east towards the sea, and then sweep your gaze across the expanse of your garden to the right. You meet his dark eyes again after surveying your surroundings. “Well, I see no good men nearby, so I believe you should be safe.”

In the dim light, you swear you see something throb at the corner of his tense jaw.

“There’s not a healer in the royal court who’s been able to cure my brother,” Osamu’s voice breaks, taking a step towards you. “I’ve come here unarmed, and mean no harm to ya.”

Your upper lip curls at the lie and his proximity, baring your teeth.

No man has ever once approached a witch with pure intentions.

The seek only their beauty, their power, or their beating, bloody hearts.

Your mother’s screams ring suddenly through your ears, piercing and agonized. The memory makes gooseflesh raise along your skin. Makes the back of your tongue taste sour. You squeeze your eyes shut as though to quell it, but this only seems to trap the sound in the recesses on your brain. They grow louder, and harder to forget. 

You see your mother on a wooden stage constructed in the town square before a crowd of horrified spectators, the gnarled boards underfoot already stained in scarlet.

The white linen shift they’d forced her to wear, and the way the thin material flowed away from her frame in the breeze.

The glittering hilt of the jewelled knife that carved out her heart, with the sigil of the king etched into its blade.

The crackling flames that consumed her as she wailed.

A witch can live without her heart, you see, so long as it’s kept close to her. Your mother wasn’t spared a second of the misery of being burned alive. She was granted no mercy in the final terrifying moments of her life.

You open your eyes and the dark sky above you seems to hang closer overhead, as though it’s more suffocatingly near than it was before. The garden around you suddenly feels colder.

Osamu’s eyes widen, like he feels it too.

Your dying lamp burns out.

“Leave this place,” you say to him, low and warning. Your voice rings clear in the unearthly still night. “And if you value your life, never come back here again.”