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primus-why · 1 month ago

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I Feel TFOne Could've Handled This Better...

Hot take but I feel like folks have been really generous with the take that OP was unable to find ~the perfect words~ in the heat of the moment (and thus should be given some grace) when he told D to stand down and "not be like Sentinel"... namely cuz I don't feel that the narrative supports this?

Like-- after all is said and done, OP doesn't reflect on that part of their split. He doesn't have a moment where he seeks validation or voices his regrets over the choice of his words, it's actually cut-and-dry. The narrative (as it stands) supports that OP saw D-16 acting up, so he called him out and stood on business, down to the last scenes where he's basically like "yeah it's a shame but y'all knew I had to do it to 'em."

It didn't have to be much! I'm not saying to absolve Megs, just show OP looking at things from a different perspective/contemplating a bit on that tough choice and the morality of the moment. Some examples of what I wish we had:

B-127 straight up blurting the obvious by later chatting with Orion like, "Wait so you told your best friend that he was acting just as bad as the guy who enslaved us for our entire lives and was torturing him like an hour ago? Oof. Seems kinda harsh." Then have some of OP's regret show on his face.

OP asking Elita-1 after Megs is banished if he did the right thing. Have Elita back his choice up, saying, "You should have seen what he did after you were... gone. It was terrifying. I know it was tough, but you made the right call." OP is grateful for the support, but a conflicted look still flashes across his face before he steels himself to look out towards the horizon... and the future.

Have OP walk past other mechs/former miners who didn't go with the High Guard saying stuff like, "Wish I could've given Sentinel a piece of my mind!" "Yeah, but I'm glad he's gone for good." "Ugh I miss everything." "Oh, it was crazy! Megatron picked him up and then he rrrrriiipped-- oops, hey there, Mr. Optimus... Prime... sir?" And have OP wave hello, looking a bit sick when they leave.

Post-credits scene with Starscream going on and on, asking Megs when they'll be back to teach the upstart Prime a lesson. Megs grabs his face to shut him up. "Patience, Starscream. The Prime thinks I'm no better than Sentinel... but I'll show him. He wants Iacon? He can have it. In the meantime we'll take the rest of the planet! Then I'll come back, crush Prime under my heel, and we'll take Iacon too. Sentinel's reign will barely be a footnote, because I'm about to become Optimus Prime's worst nightmare." The vocal performance would really need to sell this-- like picture Megs saying something like that from a place of anger and hurt, not so much a place of genuine evil or malice.

Basically instead of Orion's assertion being backed up as black and white/good vs bad, I wish we had some different opinions/reactions from the characters sprinkled in there. Like you can't tell me out of allllll the miners who weren't strong enough/willing to go with the High Guard and ended up sticking around that NONE of them were like "eyyo honestly?? Kiiiiinda glad Sentinel is dead. Wish I could have helped, tbh." like come onnnnn...

And you can't even argue that he's not an active threat-- I don't think everyone would see things that way! It's not just about the threat he physically has, but the threat he represents and is very likely to act upon if given the opportunity! He has a proven track record of not only being sneaky and conniving, but also capable of dealing some serious damage/killing people bigger and stronger than him, plus he has the backing of the Quints. All he'd need to do is wriggle his way out of jail and run off to his sponsors, then he'd probably be back to hurt more people! (If the Quints didn't just kill him out of incompetence lmao). There's a lot of "ifs" here, but I think it's a valid argument that not everyone would agree on what is the right or wrong way to handle Sentinel once he was down long enough to, like, do something about him.

I feel the situation needed a bit of nuance. In some way I wish they had kicked the can and had D and Orion bicker while Sentinel escaped, then have D get frustrated enough by the loss of Sentinel to point fingers (and his fusion canon) at Orion, who then falls and becomes OP. (Megs could still show some of thar emotion/remorse right after he does it too.) Not only would this open the door for a sequel, but tbh the Quint might have just killed Sentinel anyways and sought to deal with the miners uprising themselves lol. (Maybe that could have been an after credits scenes too instead of the B-127 bit??)

Would love to see a moment in a sequel where they have a calmer moment after arguing for a bit. Have OP mention how Megs was out of line, that it hurt and even scared him to see him act that way, and Megs can quietly point out "you said I was as bad as Sentinel... is that really how you see me? After everything we went through?"

Then OP can fumble the bag again lmao like "D, I... I'm sorry, that didn't come out right... but you still took things way too far..."

"Why am I not surprised-- your opinion is what matters the most! Maybe that's why you became a Prime, since you're so good at acting like the world revolves around you--!"

*gets interrupted by someone else before another yelling match ensues*

#rambling #transformers one #tf one #tfo #i'll be honest a lot of this stems from how rushed i felt the last like... 3rd of the movie feels #i feel Optimus is so dismissive of Megs!! like basically the whole movie but ESPECIALLY after coming back to life as a Prime???#your best friend is Going Through It. clearing having an Emotional Breakdown.#He drops you. In the moment it mattered most he chose violence... but notice what he says right before that?#Megs says ''I'm done saving you''#Like??? y'all don't wanna delve into that a little more?????#i half expected Optimus to pop up and be like ''excuse me. i wasn't done talking. what Did You Mean By That??''#instead he comes up and IMMEDIATELY has already written off this entire relationship as well.#Megs dropped him. it was a aplit second decision. we see in the movie D leaning into these bad impulses.#Orion is supposed to mature gradually so he's more level-headed by the end. why does that equate to abandoning the friendship??#why does he suddenly wanna drop Megs too? wouldn't this be the time for ''please listen to me'' part 2?#''it doesn't matter who has the matrix. we can make a change for the better! please listen to me'' etc #also minor nitpick but lmao why was OP Talking Like That after becoming Prime?#like he goes from ''haha hey guys hows it goin'' to ''You have used your gifts for Evil and Betrayed the entire planet''#babes what. Cybertron?? we went on a 2 day road trip on foot the fuck you know about Cybertron.#like betrayed Iacon maybe but idk maybe the guys in Tarn would be cool with Megs you dont know! lmao!#if my friend and I had beef and they started talking to me like the queen of england i would literally ask where they got their soapbox.#ohhhh you think you're morally superior? stop speaking for the whole planet lmao!! already named prime and letting it go to his head!!#strange dieties lying in the core of the planet distributing magic baubles that bring you back to life #is no basis for picking a planetary leader #this has been Orion Was Right: The Movie #when i wish there was a bit more.#maybe another 20-30 min would have helped me idk hhhhh #but Megs turn felt sooooo fast... then things just kept escalating from there.#''some transformations are permanent'' sir it's been like 48 hours since y'all learned you lives were a lie.#you *really* don't think Megs could ever cool down and apologize/change his mind?? you too??? tf???

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queenie-ofthe-void · 29 days ago

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A Desperate Fool - Part 13

Part 12

Last Time: Eddie and Dustin finally have it out

cws: portrayals of addiction and graphic description of stomach pumping (i've added a red line to mark the stomach-pumping section if you'd like to skip it; all you need to know is Eddie feels deep shame about his former addiction problems and how it's impacted his relationship with his family. It's his rock bottom.)

~~~

There’s a knock at the front door, the sounds of shuffling in the foyer filter downstairs to the studio where Eddie’s perched on the blue velvet couch. If someone’s here it certainly isn’t for him, so he pays it no mind.

He catches the first stint of a conversation before he slips his headphones on, picks up his guitar, and sets his notes on the small table in front of him. Which is how he misses Dustin calling for him, and the door to the studio opening, and the sound of someone’s voice behind him, before there’s a hand on his shoulder.

He jerks violently, but manages to keep hold of the guitar in his lap. Since he almost smashed his beloved acoustic to pieces the last time Dustin snuck up on him a few days ago, Eddie’s taken to practicing on the couch when he knows Dustin’s home. It’s saved him in quite a few scenarios now.

“Jesus christ, Dustin,” he shouts as he pulls the headphones down around his neck, “you scared the shit–” the rest of the sentence lodges itself in his throat when he looks up to find a mess of shaggy black hair and large, dark brown eyes coldly staring down at him.

“‘Scared the shit out of you?’ That’s pretty ironic,” Mike says, an indifferent tone contrasted against the nervous bounce of his heel, hands fisted and tucked into the sleeves of his oversized light blue sweatshirt. The string ties are frayed at the ends from where they’ve been chewed on and Eddie notices the neck has a slit cut into it where the fabric of the hood comes together.

Will’s sweatshirt, if he had to guess. A small comfort Mike can hold onto for what Eddie assumes is going to be a difficult fucking conversation.

He’s sure he looks like a fish with the way his mouth soundlessly moves in a frantic search for the right thing to say. Mike grows impatient and starts to aimlessly wander the studio. Eddie can only watch as he takes it all in.

Metal Munson’s red and black Warlock hangs on the wall next to the black Flying V, and Eddie can’t help the sense of detachment that overcomes him at their presence. He grips the neck of his acoustic like a lifeline.

It was the very first thing Eddie ever bought for himself with his own money, when he was just a fifteen year old with a stash of petty drug money in the back of his sock drawer.

He sees the moment Mike clocks it in his hands. Guilt sits heavy on his chest when the lines around Mike’s eyes soften a fraction before shuttering again.

“Dustin wasn’t lying then,” Mike asks, averting eye contact, “you really are using the acoustic.”

He should put it back onto its stand next to his stool, except it feels like a shield, a weighted blanket. Eddie can’t let the guitar go, and Mike can’t stop glancing at it. Yet Eddie’s not sure he has the strength to answer Mike’s question, it’s so horribly personal. Not just to himself, but between the two of them. So like the coward he is, he changes the subject.

“What do you mean ‘ironic’?” He clears his throat, nervous with anticipation.

“Well you’ve been scaring the shit out of me for over a year, so it’s about time it’s the other way around.” Mike snaps. “Do you know how many times I thought you’d died? Sitting up all night watching your live streams at some insane party, fucked out of your mind, and then calling you for days with no answer?”

He wants to look away from the hurt masked behind his brother’s seething glare, but he can’t help it. Eddie knows he’s staring. So much has changed since the last time he’s seen Mike in person that it almost feels wrong how he looks almost exactly the same. Mike’s a father now, but still just looks like Mike.

Part of Eddie’s glad for it, something familiar to hold onto in the middle of the chaos. Except that’s ripped from him when Mike hurls his next question, full of grief and laced with venom.

“Were you high,” Mike asks, “when we called and introduced you to Jayden?”

His gut twists as Mike does his best to hide the crack in his voice. His lip is wobbling, and Eddie notices his eyes turn glassy.

Eddie vividly remembers meeting his nephew, just a tiny toddler wrapped in a dinosaur onesie. He’s never seen such a smiley kid, laughing and giggling at all of Eddie’s silly faces. It was the first time in months he’d had the chance to talk to Mike without it becoming a fight. They were still awkward, don’t get him wrong. But between the kid and Will, it went fairly smooth.

Unfortunately, the reason he remembers the conversation so well is because of how ungodly sick he felt.

He’d ditched his personal phone earlier in the week, on another bender and sick of everyone calling him. Eddie spent the entire night before strung out, looking for love in all the wrong places– a typical night for a bender. But the universe must’ve felt he deserved a small win.

Eddie had pulled out his phone to message one of his many hookups when he’d noticed he had his personal cell. There were seven missed calls from Mike, fifteen texts, and one voicemail.

“No, but–” Eddie sighs, drags his hand down his face– “I was hungover.” Mike huffs and rolls his eyes. Eddie cuts in before the kid works himself up again. “That doesn’t mean I don’t remember every second of it. I know this is a shit excuse, and I’m not expecting any slack, but I don’t remember much of anything from the past year.”

He wrings his hands, twists the rings on his fingers as Mike continues to stare, waiting for him to keep going. It seems therapy really has done wonders for him, Eddie thinks. Mike’s keeping himself in check, and Eddie can see the deep breaths he’s been taking to stop himself from snapping.

“I didn’t get your message until the night before and I panicked. I knew how important it was to you– how important meeting him was to me. Except, god I was so fucked up, Mike, I–” shame clogs his throat as the heat behind his eyes burns for relief.

A gentle hand on his shoulder makes him jump, and Mike’s leaning down, tilting his own head up under the curtain of Eddie’s hair to look at him. Shame forces Eddie to turn away, undeserving of someone like Mike to keep looking up at him after all of the bullshit Eddie’s put him through.

“Eddie, I’m not a kid anymore,” Mike says, a pleading edge to his voice. “I’ve been begging you to talk to me– so don’t stop now. Tell someone, anyone, if you don’t want it to be me. But you can’t– you can’t keep this shit to yourself anymore.

“I know you think you’re all alone, everyone on Steve’s side and no one’s on yours. But that’s selfish as fuck, and a pity party if I’ve ever seen one, Eddie, because I’ve always been here. I’m your family first. So just fucking talk to me!”

He’s tried so hard to keep his shit to himself, to keep it together, to focus on how he’s fucked up their lives– to keep the story off himself. But Mike’s words, upon words, upon words, heave themselves onto Eddie and pile high until he’s crushed under the weight of expectations, excuses, accusations, and more and more disappointment from his family.

And Eddie breaks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I tried to pump my own stomach, Mike! Is that what you want to hear?” Eddie screams, finally setting the guitar down next to him so he can pace the room to avoid whatever look Mike is giving him.

The words flow out of him, buried for so long that he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. “I don’t remember where I was, or who I was with, or how I got home. But I remember choking that fucking tube down my throat and trying to pour the water myself, spilled the shit all over the floor, could barely reach the top. Hell, I even considered hooking it up to the sink and just turning it on full blast.”

Tears run down his face. His hands are clammy with nervous sweat, and he wipes them vigorously on the new sweats Dustin bought him.

They’re black and fuzzy and Dustin had laughed when Eddie tried them on, saying he looked like half of a gorilla. But they were soft, and Dustin had bought them for him because he knows Eddie likes soft things, knows he likes black, and because Dustin was thinking about him when Eddie felt like no one did.

But looking at these stupid, ugly, seriously comfortable pants, and really listening to Mike, maybe he’s not as alone as he feels. So he falls back to the couch, grips his hands into the soft plush of his legs, and cries.

“I woke up to vomit all over the floor, but it was the first time in almost three weeks I was even close to sober. My manager hired someone to clean the bathroom, sent a discreet doctor– someone who’d been dealing with my shit for a while. I had to angle the phone just right so you couldn’t see the IV they hooked me to.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He hides his head in his hands and he feels Mike sit next to him. That night will haunt him the rest of his life, but it was the moment he decided to sober up. While Eddie was out every night, wasting away in some club or a strange bed, his family was living their life. Kids, jobs, marriages, things were happening– and he realized they were happening with or without him around.

Maybe it was a pity party, like Mike said. Eddie always made himself out to be the outcast– the bastard, the queer, the metalhead. It was easier to be Metal Munson than to just be Eddie, to fall into the cliche asshole pseudo-personality he’d concocted.

There were always missed calls and unanswered text messages, and each one was just another weight of guilt on his conscience. But after his phone call with Mike, meeting his baby nephew, Eddie realized each one was an invitation to come home, to be Eddie Munson again.

Even though he’d done everything he could to force Mike to give up on him, he never left Eddie behind.

There’s a head on his shoulder and arms wrapped around him. Eddie leans into it, Mike not faltering at the added weight against him. It’s been so long since he’s had someone in his corner that it’s a bit overwhelming. And although he knows Mike only came by to have it out with him, he’s glad for this moment.

Eddie moves his hands away from his face to awkwardly hug back, Mike hugging him from the side while Eddie attempts to grab any part of Mike he can reach.

“That sounds awful,” Mike chokes out, words stilted and carefully chosen. “But I’m glad you’re ok, and I’m happy you’re here. I just–” he pauses, but when Eddie pulls away to look at him, Mike holds him firmly in place and says– “I just wish you would stay.”

He’s transported back in time, a loud and angry sixteen year old kid who wore too much black and refused to go to church, packing a bag to get the hell out of town. Whether it was a trailer park or a house in the suburbs, Eddie never felt like he had a home, so he’d run away and find his own.

He turned around to grab his guitar, only to see it gripped tight in Mike’s small hands. Eddie watched as he reverently turned it over. Mike had constantly asked Eddie for lessons, but he’d always had an excuse not to. He knew that’s what Mike was going to ask before the kid could even open his mouth.

Mike looked up at him, wide-eyed and smiling when he noticed the half-full bag of clothes open on Eddie’s bed.

And for the first time since Mike had begged him for lessons, Eddie dreaded coming up with an excuse. Hurt scrawled across the boy’s face, and he proceeded to pepper Eddie with relentless questions about the bag, where he was going, why he was leaving, what was happening.

When Eddie had finally given in to Mike’s incessant nagging, confessing to his plan of running away and making it big in Hollywood, Mike cried. Not the typical tantrums ignored by his parents when he wanted something. They were the tears of a child, filled with emotions too big for someone so small. The tears fell without push or prompt, and his lip wobbled even as he bit them to stop.

When Eddie really thought about Mike pestering him for guitar lessons, or to play DnD with his friends, to take him to the movies, or listen to Eddie’s music, he could finally see it for what it was. Mike wanted Eddie around, liked him for who he was, and didn’t see him as some stray adopted into the perfect family. Mike just saw him as his big brother.

So Eddie decided running away could wait at least a day or two. He’d sat down with Mike, backs against the bed, and showed him the basics. The kid wasn’t very good with hands too small, but the smile on his face said enough.

“It should have a name,” Mike said, strumming off-key.

Eddie hummed in thought before settling on, “this machine kills fascists.”

“What’s a fascist?”

“Oh, it’s– well I guess they’re kinda–”

“I meant a cool name, like Mindflayer.”

Eddie chuckled. “How about both?”

He’d let Mike write it out with a pen, then Eddie lightly carved his switchblade into each letter. Sure it could fuck up the sound, but it was worth it to see the stark joy on his little brother’s face.

This Machine Slays Dragons.

Mike’s smile turned a little sad. He looked up at Eddie, eyes wide and wet when he said, “now, even if you still leave, you’ll remember me. Right?”

Here Eddie finds himself again, held in place by possibly the one person whose love he never had to earn, given without hesitation. He’d promised Mike all those years ago that he’d never run away. And he’d done it anyway.

“You know,” Eddie sniffs, leaning back out of Mike’s hold to drag his sleeve across his eyes, “Lincoln Park is pretty nice, and it’s not that far from here.”

Mike jerks back to catch his eye, and Eddie holds his gaze. He’d already started to consider just staying in Chicago, even scouted some neighborhoods.

His bottom lip wobbles like it always does, but Mike scoffs, a small light returning to his eyes when he rolls them and says, “of course you get a taste of being a rich asshole and immediately want to move to Lincoln Park.”

Eddie barks a laugh and hooks his left elbow around Mike’s neck to pull him in for a noogie. It’s fun and lighthearted and not nearly enough of a conversation to nullify so much of the hurt Eddie’s caused him.

But a bridge has been repaired, if even slightly.

Mike screeches, wriggling his way free until the wrestling turns into a genuine, too-long hug neither of them move to break. “Want to come upstairs and meet your nephew for real?”

Mike moves to stand from the couch, offering Eddie his hand. He takes it.

“Of course! I’ve got to start the music education early and beat the Byers boys before they brainwash the poor kid with punk.”

Mike makes a noise at the back of throat, wiggling his hand back and forth as he shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe give Will some space. He’s, uhh–”

“Not as forgiving?” Eddie finishes. But Mike gives him a small, reassuring smile.

“Just start answering the phone, come over for dinner, babysit– he’ll come around.”

They head upstairs towards the sounds of cooing and laughter. The thought of settling down used to spring his defenses, fill him with dread. A kind of life he always looked down on and took for granted. Now he only feels the warm comfort of home at the thought of living here, so close to his family and friends.

He holds the thought of family and friends in his head like a mantra to distract himself from the Steve of it all. Living so close, running into each other, spending holidays with their mixed family. Eddie pushes the deep-churning anxieties in his gut to the side as he smiles down on his baby nephew, and hopes maybe everything will go over better than he expects.

~~~

@sadisticaltarts @5ammi90 @blacklegsanji21 @jaytriesstrangerthings @thewickedkat

@stripey82 @a-lovely-craziness

Ok I've got bad news... I'm officially abandoning this fic. It's been a total struggle, and although I have a fairly detailed outline and vibrant scenes I'd love to hit, I just can't make the words come out right. I've started and re-started the next chapter so many times I've lost count.

Which means it's time for me to move on to what keeps me passionate about Steddie!

I'm immensely happy with what I've created here, and I hope you have been too. Thank you for all of your likes and reblogs and comments because I never would've gotten this far without your support. It means the world to me.

I'll be uploading everything I have here on Tumblr to ao3, and then that's all she wrote.

~~~

One last thought! If you enjoy tropes like break ups w/ second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, (not actually) unrequited love PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE check out A Thousand Flowers Could Bloom by @morningberriesao3.

This fic is stunning and smutty and horribly sad and fluffy and EVERYTHING (bonus: it's complete <3). It was a balm on my soul when I struggled with writing this, so hopefully you'll all love it too.

#i love this fic you guys(gn) but I'm honestly so relieved to take this off my wips list #maybe one day i'll come back to it but it definitely won't be soon #steddie break up fic #rock star eddie munson #steddie fic #queeniewritesstories

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