#might post this on ao3 maybe
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okok, hear me out on this rottmnt leo x reader au idea guys i swear:
Rottmnt separated au where Leo (named Kappa) was raised as the next battle nexus champion n owner (in case anything happens to big mama) by big mama and he had to fight (literally and figuratively) for familial affection and peace his whole life. Then theres Reader who was abandoned by her parents the moment they found out about her ability to see into the future via dreams (which isnt as straightforward as it sounds- her visions span across multiple alternate timelines and they vary in time making it hard to understand and navigate), so they gave their small child to big mama (human version) and lil yn is forced to become a servant bc her powers are ultimately useless.
small yn is basically forced by the other employees to serve Leo bc none of em wanted to. Yn is scared and shy at first but then they kinda become friends (She even names him Leonardo bc its a very characteristic throughout her dreams and she thought it suit him) eventhough he has to hide it in public and pretend he doesnt gaf about the human because the other yokai would make fun of him and call him weak n pick on them. They basically grow up side by side, developing extreme loyalty to each other.
He's prissy and picky and an arrogant brat and hes possessive and caring and would protect yn with his entire being. He had to fight Big Mama for her to stay and not get kicked on the streets, making Big Mama send Leo on field missions as a punishment, making him take Yn with him, purposefully making her dead weight, but he always came out on top.
throughout the years Yn became very introverted and showed her true self only to leo bc that was her one and only safe place. They go on outings in the hidden city and run from the bellboys tryna catch them when BM finds out they snuck out.
The other turtles are all scattered.
Donatello is with Draxum, YN and Leo being the only ones that even call him Donatello. (Drax calls him Purple bc he's horrendous with names). He used to be a full on turtle mutant but because of Draxum training him until he was drained n tired asf there was a lab accident, making him half cyborg. His shell is now replaced with a deadly metal 'shell', one of his eyes is artificial, and eventhough he's trained in multiple weapons, he prefers using technology and working on war weapons making Big Mama and Draxum collaborate. Whenever there's a meeting both BM and Draxum would take their sons with them as 'theyre the succesors and should be there for future reference' though Leo thinks Big Mama wants to have a good image and show Draxum off by dangling something that she took from him right in his face. Well, if Leo's going, that automatically means YN is coming with him; he wont let her out of her periphery, wont make snatching his pet away from him easy for Big Mama. They basically met at those meetings, though they usually sent the younger ones elsewhere while the adults spoke of veery important things. Donatello absolutely hated YN at first bc she was human so him n leo almost fought, but YN, being a little familiar with Donnie from her dreams, started asking Donatello questions to appease him, making Donnie tolerate her (theyre working on extending that tolerance to all of humanity). Leo and Donnie's and Yn's relationship is on thin ice, but it is getting better- they visit don when theyre in the hidden city and help him with gathering materials from the overworld bc Purple wasnt allowed lol Loser. (they snuck him out and showed him the wonders of human tech though, once or twice.) Leo got his mystic weapon from Baron Draxum as a gift (eventhough he actually didnt want to give it. Donnie convinced him to do so because Drax had a fight with Big Mama and 'giving a gift to her son would show your utmost apologies and mend your business partnership') a way to get back into good graces w Big Mama and Draxum. Just business.
Raph (or Beast) is with the Foot Clan. He was raised very lovingly (bc they were prepping him for the shredder armor), and reveres shredder as his god bc while his parents may have 'loved' him, he was at the end of the day, just a tool to help shredder's revival (everyone in the clan thought so about themselves, they were veery cult like). Leo only knows of them bc he spotted them breaking into a mall while he was 'shopping' gifts for YN :3. he found them hilarious so he watched on as they struggled to fit Beast through multiple doors in the mall. The guy was huge, bigger than he was supposed to be. wtf were they feeding him?? Leo ofc records it and shows it to YN and she can deduce the future from her dreams and the way things r going irl and goes like oh shit this is bad lol we're fucked if someone doesnt do anything abt this and leos like will it hurt you? yn: yes. yes leo it will. leo: oh okay dw then yn ill steal it from them hehe. so he trolls the foot clan whenever he can just for funsies (Leo is also slightly insane n arrogant, so being a little shit comes naturally to him). Whilst he was stalking the top execs he comes across a binding ritual for two or more people. He watched and listened as it was explained thru a book. He stole the ritual book and read through it himself, coming up with an idea himself.
He brings the book to YN and tells her he wants to souldbond with her. (their relationship is like: i belong to leo and only leo but we're not dating n vice versa... like kiss alr smh.) A soulbond is an irreversible binding contract between two people, which allows them to communicate their intent just by their thoughts and solidifying their involvement with each other. It can only be broken if one of them dies. Yn agrees and they make the soulbond without any regrets. No one knows about it but Donnie, whose eye had strong mystic receptors iy already. He saw the chains binding the 2 together and gagged the moment he found out what it meant LMAO.
Raphs fighting style are his body and tail only. hes a brute through and through, his older sister is Cass.
Mikey is with Splinter, who felt so guilty of being unable to save mikeys brothers he unintentionally started neglecting Mikey and developed depression. Mikey bless his soul has been doing his best to keep it together and bring his bros together. He doesnt succeed at it very much and only represses his emotions until he cant anymore, and when that happens lets say the city had a few buildings to fix. Mikey stole the Kusari fundo from Draxum, and its his main weapon.
April, who has Mayhem as her pet, is trying to become a journalist, so she's always at the fights, writing stuff down and then publishing them. Her main way of staying safe is Mayhem's portals lol. She's been saved multiple times by Yn begging leo to give her mercy lol. None of the turtles rlly interact w her.
YN is very shy and closed off. She can be very calculative and manipulative if dhe wants to, making her the perfect s/o for leo, who can analyse a situation and come up on top with the best outcome, as well as pull any information out of anyone, violently or not. He needs constant praise. Leo has a short fuse, and Yn is his perfect match, always calming the situation down before it could make leo explode; she knows all his triggers and tells and weaknesses, as does he for her since they yknow, grew up together.
TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS PLEASE
#rise tmnt#rise of the tmnt#rottmnt leo#rottmnt#rottmnt leo x reader#au idea#au in progress#i guess??#might post this on ao3 maybe#ao3#moroneur#i love them so much#they've been living in my head for abt a month#rent free#tmnt#rottmnt separated au#idiot talk#soulbond au
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i went on a deep dive of the Steve & Hopper ao3 tag yesterday and and it got me thinking about what would happen if Chief of Police Hopper ran into Steve and Eddie while he was on patrol after pseudo-adopting Steve, and itâs been long enough that Hopper is sort of a safe-person for Steve so Steve goes into full-fledged bitch mode when Hopper tries to pull cop stuff on them, and Eddie (who knew about none of this because Steve is a chronic under-sharer) is so totally baffled.
Heâd spent years watching Steve sweet-talk his way out of trouble. Even before they started hooking up it used to drive Eddie goddamn insane, because if (when) Eddie pulled any of this shit Steve gets away with, heâd be totally screwed, but all Steve has to do is flash a sheepish grin and run a hand through his hair once or twice and say, all baleful, âI really didnât mean any trouble,â and heâs home free.
It has its perks though, or so he's learned during his last few months of hanging around with Steve, so when Steve and Eddieâs make-out session is interrupted by the tell-tale red and blue lights of a cop car pulling up behind where Steve parked the Beemer a few hundred yards down a maintenance road, Eddieâs not all that worried. In fact, heâs got a pretty good amount of faith in Steveâs ability to spin up some story to keep them out of any real trouble, and as Chief Hopper ambles over to them, Eddie prepares himself for a whole show of, âYes Chief, sorry Chief, it wonât happen again Chief.â
So imagine Eddie's complete and utter surprise when Hopper barks, âHey, morons! What the hell do you think youâre doing?â and Steve only rolls his eyes and says, âWhatâs it to you?â
Eddie feels his jaw drop.
âSteve,â he mutters through gritted teeth. He tries to elbow Steve into shutting the hell up, but he misses because Steve has already taken several steps forward to meet Hopper, his face turned up in a kind of defiance Eddie doesnât think heâs ever seen on him before.
âWhatâs it to me?â Hopper repeats, glowering at Steve, âItâs midnight. Iâm on patrol. Youâve got one of the most recognizable cars in this entire damn town parked in a restricted-access zone with this idiotââ Hopper gestures at Eddie (Eddie didnât think the pointing or the idiot were necessary, but clearly, clearly, heâs missing something here), ââwhoâs been dragged into my station more times than I could count.â
âThe town line, Hop, is over there,â Steve says, pointing at an indiscriminate spot over Hopâs shoulder that may or may not be part of the Hawkins town line, âWeâre not even in Hawkins anymore. Youâre totally out of your jurisdiction.â
âYou wanna know something about jurisdiction, smart-ass?â Hopper asks, âIf my report says shit happened in my jurisdiction, it happened in my jurisdiction.â
âWow,â Steve deadpans, âWay to not sound totally corrupt. Nice work, Chief.â
Hopperâs jaw twitches for a second, and heâs clearly debating if he wants to keep arguing with Steve who, to Steveâs credit, looks like heâs got debate in him for days. Ultimately though, Hopper decides against it and stalks back over to his squad car.
âIf youâre not home by one thereâs gonna be hell to pay. You hear me, Harrington?â Hopper yells, âOne AM. Hell to pay.â
âOh, sure,â Steve rolls his eyes, âTotally hear you. One AM. Loud and clear or whatever.â
Steve flips the cruiser both birds as it peels away, which Hopper only flashes his high beams at a couple times before heâs gone, kicking up a bunch of dirt and mulch and leaves in his wake, and Steve is wearing an exasperated expression as he turns to face Eddie again.
âGod, heâs so annoying. Letâs just go to my house.â
Eddie gapes at him.
âWhat the fuck was that?â
âHuh?â
âWhat the fuck was that?â Eddie repeated, gesturing wildly towards where Hopperâs car had just been.
âWhaâ you mean with Hop?â
âUh, yeah?!?â
Steve just brushed him off, âWhatever, just ignore him. Heâs basically my dad.â
âWhat?â
EDIT: read the expanded fic on AO3 :)
#idk maybe this is pre-season 3. maybe itâs a no-upside down au. who knows#might expand this and post on ao3 later if iâm feeling it#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#jim hopper#steve jim father-son relationship my beloved
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An Apprenticeâs (Unofficial) Guide to House Garments
based on @energ00n 's apprentice AU! (i'm obsessed with the concept of apprentices making up garment rules)
Wc: 2.1k
The datapadâan older model with discolored spots, showing where servos touched its framingâis the first thing Orion Paxâs optics land on as he walks into his new room. Orion snatches the datapad and tilts his helm as he reads the title over again. A peek at the contents shows that it begins with Hey newbie followed by three exclamation glyphs (an overabundance of any glyph, if you asked Orion).
Orion glances up and catches his own gaze in a mirror hanging in front of him. Itâs strange, seeing two sheer fabric pieces delicately flowing over the hard metal of his armsâheâs hesitant to move his arm joints in fear of tearing it. That, as well as the jewelry occupying the space where his cog would be creates a vision thatâll take some getting used to.
He pries his optics away and down to the datapad again, dermas pinching as his processor whirrs. Prima explained to him how to care for his garment personally and what if, since the datapad looks old, the data was outdated? No, safer to follow Primaâs instructions and not confuse himself.
Orion places the datapad to the side and sets off to explore his new home.
~
Hello newbie!!!
Congratulations to you and your new position! Thereâs so much you need to know before you get started. If you wanna make friends, then youâll wanna keep reading, little mech!
Itâs most important that you know about your House garment. No, no, not how to wash oil stains out of it (though thatâs good to know!), Iâm talking about the meaning behind what you do with it.
Lucky for you, Iâve compiled a list for your easy reference! Learn them well, little mech!!
DO: Wear your House garment at all times! Iâve been told itâs respectful to the Primes. Also helpful so we can tell each other apart. Usually only an apprenticeâs special somebot sees them without it! Even then, maybe not.
~
D-16 has always been a stickler for the rules. Itâs structureâitâs security. He canât afford to slip up and never lets that resolve waver. So how exactly did he let pretty blue optics lure him into a cargo hold that supposedly has a passage leading into the (highly forbidden) archives? D-16 isnât sure.
âOrion Pax,â D-16 hisses, âyou idiot, thereâs no wayââ
Orion hushes him with a digit to his dermas and a wink. D-16 lowers his voice. âWhy did you drag me into this?â
Orion pries the cover away from the passage and lowers it to the ground, a soft clank echoing. âI need you to keep watch for me, âkay? Itâs a tight squeeze for me so you definitely wouldnât fit.â
D-16 frowns, a retort fully prepped in his processor, but then Orion unclips his garment and D-16âs vocalizer short circuits. For a horrifying and long nanoklik, only static emits from his voice box. âWhâPax, what are you doing?!â
âI told you.â Orion rolls his optics. âBarely enough room in there and I canât risk ripping my clothes up. Prima would offline me.â
He slips the sheer fabric over his helm and presents it to D-16 with splayed servos. Primus, help him. It takes D-16 exactly 1.46 kliks to reboot and shake his helm vehemently. âNo? IâŠyou want me toââ
âItâs just my garment,â Orion states, playful but also firm in a way that says I donât have time to argue. âIâm not asking you to do anything else. Keep it safe?â
Just my garment. If Orionâs antics donât get him expelled, his cluelessness would. However, heâs correct about one thing, and itâs that their time is running out.
D-16 half-snatches half-cradles the garment, careful not to let the ends touch the ground. With a deep intake D-16 says, âGo. Before they spot us.â
Orion grins, scrambling his way through the crawl space, leaving D-16 to listen for passing mechs. The fabric feels smooth between his digits.
~
DONâT: touch another apprenticeâs attire, especially(!) without their permission. A passing touch may be an accident but deliberately grabbing is almost like a kiss!!! Donât kiss or put your dermas on their clothing either. That hasâŠintimate implications I wonât discuss here.
~
Orion loves watching Megatronus Prime spar with D-16. The size difference between the two could be laughable, if it werenât for the ferocity that overtakes D-16âs faceplate and the corrections Megatronus throws out to him. Multiple times, Orionâs systems remind him to function as he watchesâhis friend is a vision under his Primeâs tutelage, all gritted denta, radiating optics, and arcing gauntlets.
Once satisfied, the looming Prime kneels before his apprentice and speaks lowly to him. Orionâs audials are unable to pick up whatâs said but the open and hungry way D-16 receives his feedback sates him. Megatronus returns to his full height, nods to release D-16 from his training for the day and Orion perks up at the gesture.
âD!â Orion calls. His friend pads over to whatâs becoming Orionâs usual spot, a barely-there smile on his dermas.
âYou been waiting long?â D-16 asks, setting his practice spear against the wall.
Orion shakes his helm. A white lieâheâs been there longer than he shouldâve but itâs not his fault that watching D-16 fight is so fascinating. âWhat were you learning today?â
D-16 dutifully launches into the intricacies of battle strategy and close-ranged combat. Orion props his helm up with his loose fist as he listensâmostly listens, at least. That task becomes difficult as the jargon grows thick and D-16âs broad servos capture Orionâs attention as they move in small motions.
An idea pops into his processor. âWhy donât you show me?â
A pause, then D-16 scoops up his practice spear, muttering, âItâll look stupid without an opponent.â
Orion hops over the half-wall thatâs been separating them and bounces over to stand in front of his friend. âIâm right here though.â
âNo,â D-16 said immediately. âItâs not safe.â
âCâmon, D,â Orion teases. âI trust you.â
D-16 cycles his optics and Orionâs lopsided grin grows. âItâs not about that. You donât know what youâre doing and even if itâs not real, I could hurt you.â
âYou wonât,â Orion states, full of confidence.
âI could,â D-16 argues. âThen Prima would offline me for harming his one and only apprenticeââ
Orion begins to circle D-16, close enough to reach but far enough that he could evade it. âI know what youâre doing, Pax. Itâs not going to work.â
âIs it not?â Orion teases as he keeps in D-16âs blindspot, his friend calmly trying to catch sight of him again. He takes a chance while behind him, dashing out and giving the purple fabric of D-16âs House garment a good tug.
âPax,â D-16 chastises. Yes, itâs a sparkling-like move, Orion knows and does not quite care. He does it again, giggles erupting from his vocalizer as D-16âs calmness dissipates.
Orion manages to tug at D-16âs garment twice more before D-16âs arm snaps out, captures the joint above Orionâs servos, and crowds him against the nearby wall. The yellow of D-16âs optics blaze. Orion notices how close they are, how his friendâs weight is the only thing that keeps him upright, and he grins.
D-16 growls, âOrion.â And honestly? Orion isnât sure whatâs going through his processor when his reaction to hearing D-16 say his name is to bite down on the gathered cloth by one of the gauntlets heâd been admiring earlier.
D-16 drops him. His aft hits the ground with a rough clank and Orion cries out, âhey!â
But D-16 isnât listening. His optics are focused on the spot where Orionâs intake fluid darkened clothâs already deep purple. D-16âs expression is horrified.
âOh scrap, D.â Orion scrambles to his pedes. âIt should go away, right? Iâve neverâD! Where are you going? Wait!â
Before Orion can say another word, D-16 runsâno, sprintsâout of the practice arena, leaving Orion there alone wondering what heâd done wrong.
~
DO: keep your garment clean! Itâs polite and respectful, blah blah blah, you should know this. But! What you donât know is that leaving a mark on another apprenticeâs garment, accidental or not, is a serious offense! You tear it, thatâs a show of disrespect to the apprentice and their House and you might have to fight them. On the other servo, if you, say, put a small decal on the cloth, youâre effectively marking that mech as your own. Same goes for intake fluid, though that just tells everyone that you and that bot are...together in a different sense. Catch my drift?Â
~
âIâm sorry, D.â
âWhat for?â
âI donât know but I made you upset, didnât I?â
â...no. You didnât.â
~
DONâT: wear another Houseâs garment!!! Unless youâre ready to be conjunxes. And Iâm serious! Itâs saying your devotion to that mech is equivalent to your devotion to your Prime. Ask yourself, little mech. Would you swear undying fealty to them? Would you choose that mech over your Prime? No? Then donât do this.
(Okay, I might be a little overdramatic, but seriously, donât.)
~
What fascinates Orion is how different the textiles feel from one another. Heâs read about the arts and asked on multiple occasions to speak with the bot who made his House clothes because he must know more. Orion shifts the material of D-16âs garment between his digits, reveling in the weight and watching the fabric fold as he moves.
He drapes a length of it over his arm and turns to D-16, whoâs dozing in and out of a light rest cycle. âDo you think purple would suit me?â
âHm?â
Orion nudges his friend with the bend of his arm still wrapped in material. This time, D-16 rouses, even if only a little. âYour House garment, silly. How does it look?â
âFine,â D-16 says.
âJust fine?â Orion complains. âYouâre the meanest friend ever. You wonât even let me try?â
D-16 resettles his helm. âNot mean. âM honest.â
Orion shoves his shoulder plate, only serving to further tangle himself. âYour honesty is mean.â
âWould you prefer a more elaborate answer?â
âNot anymore,â Orion mutters. This time, he lets D-16 rest as he lays the garment over his lap and smoothes out the wrinkles heâs made.Â
~
Congrats!!! Now youâre fully equipped to take on the social terrain in the House of Primes!!
In case you didnât read all that, basically, keep to your own business and every other bot will keep to theirs. Youâre lucky you have me to help you out with this because I didn't have anyone explain it to me and I broke about every rule before an apprentice told me. I was so embarrassed!!! No need to thank me though, little mech, whoever you may be. Just have fun! Be responsible! Follow these rules!!! I promise, youâll have a better time if you do. Byeeee ;)
~
D-16 might cease to functionâif he hasnât already. On this particular solar cycle, Orion had dragged D-16 into another one of his schemes and deemed his quarters the meeting point. The door slid open, Orion welcomed him inside, and D-16âs optics landed on a datapad that made his spark drop.
That thing isnât supposed to existânot physically, anyway. How did it get here? How in Primusâ glory does Orion have it?!
âD?â Orion cuts through his panic.
âHave youâŠâ D-16 can barely force his vocaliser to say the words. âHave you read it?â
Orion raises an optical ridge. Confused but fond. âRead what?â
A digit points at the datapad, though D-16 didnât consciously give the command for it to do so. âThat.â
âOh that?â Orion ambles over to the offending object. âIt was here when I moved in. Weird right? Maybe Prima put it here in case I forgot what he told me?â
D-16âs joints creak with the effort it takes to stride over and pick up the datapad. âYou donât need it though, do you?â
Please say no, D-16âs processor screams.
Orion laughs, though his confusion melds into concern as well. âNo, I guess notâŠdid you need it? You can take it, if you do.â
And D-16 then and there wishes Orion Pax had chosen a better friend, one who he deserves. Except, D-16 is also selfish and cold in ways where Orion is warmâhe doesnât wish that, in actuality. (It feels kinder to say that he does. Orion deserves kind.)
âThanks,â D-16 says for lack of any explanation that wouldnât be a flat-out lie.
Then Orion smiles at him, as he always does, and pats him on the chest plate, right next to his empty cog slot, right on his garment. D-16 musters a quirk of his dermas and tucks the datapad away from Orionâs prying optics. Itâs hard to feel guilty about it, when Orion seems so content and his servos make his garment so warm.
~~~
A/N: tysm for reading! i'm sorry if i got any details wrong, i read all the comics over again to make sure i got it all correct but just in case i missed something! please check out the main comic if you haven't already. the worldbuilding, writing, and art style are all stunning!
#dpax#megop#transformers one#apprentice au#d 16#orion pax#might write more for this au as it continues!#cannot believe i wrote orion accidentally giving d16 the equivalent of a hickey#i'm not sorry tho#royal writes#i'll cross post on ao3 later maybe#did i...also technically make a transformers oc?
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6e4b1a098af16c523f77e0c760f4d91c/805cba9685ab6b33-49/s540x810/818ba687e2896a1b8c18e064dea72906d4f9b8cb.jpg)
2 scenes from the fic where Scout gets stuck in a time loop -- Going Through The Motions by the wonderful @aussie-bookworm! GO READ IT ON AO3!!
+ Alt versions under the cut
#Click for quality#tf2#ale13art#digital art#doodles#tf2 scout#team fortress 2#miss pauling#tf2 miss pauling#scout tf2#fanfic fan art#fanfiction#ao3#I tried to pick scenes that wouldn't give away major spoilers..#Comic#desert#Ahh maybe I should post just the BG#I'm super proud of it since I didn't use any reference đ#Ignore how bad that phonebooth looks lol#I might also post the speed paint#Hmm options options..#OK ILL STOP TALKING just go read that fic it's really good & you won't regret it promise
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The Martian Stan AU - The Beginning
âIs that it?â Stan asked, his voice burning and rising like the coming tide, vicious and overwhelming and inevitable. Fordâs shoulders tightened involuntarily, and he threw his brother as scathing of a glare as he could manage. Couldnât Stan see that this, Fordâs problems, were important? âYou call me all the way here after ten years, just to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?!â
If Ford was any less exhausted, if the hole in his left hand and the hole in his heart  were any less gaping, and the fresh scrapes and cracked fingernails ached any less, he mightâve taken a step back to apologize. To explain that it wasnât about what Ford wanted, or what Stan wanted. It was about stopping Bill, and saving the world.
If Ford were a different man, heâd reconsider his approach and find a way to fix the chasm that seemed to yawn wider with every word that came out of each of their mouths. But as it was, Ford was not a different man. He couldnât even fix himself.
So Ford instead felt indignation sting like hot coals in his gut and urge him to step forward, closer to Stanley. His brother took an involuntary half-step back. âStanley, you donât understand what Iâve been through!â
âWhat youâve been through!â Stan kept talking even as Ford pushed past him, fury etched onto every word like a brand. âNo, no, you donât understand what Iâve been through! Iâve been to prison in three countries, and I once had to chew my way out of the trunk of a car!â
He got up in Fords face when Ford turned back, his brows drawn low and finger jabbing into Fordâs abdomen. He didnât realize it, because of course he didnât, but heâd pressed right into one of the bruises on Fords ribcage from his trip down the stairs earlier that day. Ford grit his teeth and glared back.
âYou think youâve got problems? Iâve got a mullet Stanford!â
Why couldnât Stan take Fords problems seriously? Was he really cracking jokes at a time like this?Â
Ford couldnât take it anymore.Â
Oblivious to the dangerous precipice Fords stability had drawn close to,  Stan got bitterly sarcastic. âMeanwhile where have you been? Holed up in your fancy house in the woods and living it up, selfishly hoarding allââ
Ford went still. If heâd been a slightly different man, a slightly more composed man, perhaps, heâd have fired back another jab at his twin, because how could the man that ruined Fords life and betrayed his complete and total trust call him selfish?
There was a different voice, at a different time altogether too recent and a lifetime ago. His monstrous Muse, his most trusted friend, taking his body on a fucking joyride and then having the gall to look him in the eyes and say âYOUâRE PRETTY SELFISH IQâ.Â
Ford had just kept on weeping blood.Â
As it was, Stan didnât get a chance to finish his rant. He was much too busy receiving a solid punch to the face and staggering back against the force of it. For a moment, all was quiet. Ford was shaking, he realized distantly, staring blankly at his brother. His knuckles stung from the impact.
Stan took more time to recover than Ford wouldâve thought, but when he finally did, it was with a new layer of dark fury that Ford hadnât ever seen from him before. Stan lowered the book from where heâd clenched it to his chest, and pulled out a lighter. âFine.â He whispered roughly, though it echoed in the cavernous room anyway. Louder, then, âFine! You want me to get rid of it so bad? Iâll get rid of it right now!â
A challenging fire burned in Stanâs eyes, and with a flick, it burned in his right hand too. Fordâs journal dangled above the hungry, all consuming light.Â
Ford couldnât breathe. Every piece of himself heâd had to let go of, that heâd lost to Bill and all that he was giving up to rectify his own mistakes, all to see Stan get rid of part of his lifeâs work right before his eyes.Â
How dare he.
Ford let out a guttural shout and lunged for the book. Stanley, evidently not expecting this, stumbled back and tried to move the lighter before Ford and him could get burned from it in the tussle.
He only partly succeeded. Ford hissed at the momentary new pain shooting up the underside of his hand as he tried to grab for the book and Stan flat out dropped the lighter in response. His brother faltered for a split second, his brow creasing.Â
âSixer, Iââ
Ford didnât let him finish. The second he heard the nickname, some part of him blanked out entirely, and the buzzing in his ears sounded like an angry hornet in his skull. âDonât,â he grit out, and heâs sure his voice was much too thick and angry and he wasnât being rational but he couldnât bring himself to care. âCall me that!âÂ
When Ford lunged for the journal anew, he tackled Stan to the ground as his brother instinctively tightened his own grip on the book. Fordâs book.
âWhy not?!â Stan cried out, trying to pry Ford off of him and only succeeding in rolling the two on the ground away from the portal. Ford couldnât figure out if he sounded more hurt or concerned. The hurricane in his chest kept him from thinking on it too much.
Ford let out a wordless grunt in response, as the two of them, having grappled up to stand, slammed straight through the door and Stan tried to pin him down onto one of the control panels, before Ford managed to gain enough momentum to roll Stan off of him. They were throwing punches and shouting insults they probably didnât mean, and after a minute long struggle where they surely broke every damn thing in that control room âand good riddance, Ford tried to think but he was too tired to think much at allâ Stan had shouted with all the ferocious desperation of a drowning man, âwhy canât you listen to me, damnit! You ruined my life!â
Ford had retorted, because of course he did, with âYou ruined your own life!â as he finally got a good grip on the book and kicked Stan away with enough force to shove him against the side of one of the control panels.Â
Stanâs scream was abrupt and guttural and horrifying. It cut through the haze in Fords mind with all the precision of a scalpel, dropping a rock of dread into his gut. Ford backed away as quickly as he could, and didnât even register his journal slipping through his slack fingers to land facedown on the ground. He felt sick.
âStanley! Oh my gosh, Iâm so sorry!âÂ
For a few, horrible, horrible seconds, Stan laid there, slumped and unmoving from where heâd hunched onto the floor. The burnâ the brand on his shoulder looked angry and hot against his skin. It had burned clean through his coat and shirt.
Ford took a few hurried steps closer, shaking so hard he could barely walk, when Stan groaned. âStanleyâŠâ he started, but trailed off as Stan pulled himself to his feet. His eyes were darker than Ford had ever seen them before. Stan was shaking too.
âYou really want your dumb mysteries that bad?â
And Ford wanted to say, no, no he didnât, because Stan still held his shoulder stiff as he could and his grip was knuckle-white where heâd used it to brace his arm against his side, because Ford had branded his own twin.
But the words stuck in his throat, because he realized with a start that Stan and him werenât the ones shaking. The room was. His eyes shot to the portal.
His magnum opus and his curse, his Dadaleusâs Labyrinth, was activating.Â
A sudden movement from Stan snapped Fords attention back to his injured, angry brother. Ford took a few cautious steps out of the control room and held up his hands placatingly as Stan advanced. His brother was blocking the doorway, but Ford needed to get in there, he needed to activate the shutdown procedure. âStan, please,â he said weakly, not sure what exactly he meant. Let me through? Wait? Let me help you?
He didnât get the chance to find out, though, because Stan continued talking, hefting up the journal heâd evidently picked up from the floor while Ford was distracted. âWell you can have âemâ Stan said viciously, and Ford could hear the pain in it clear as day as he moved to shove the book into Fordâs hands.
Ford dodged Stan attempt, careful to not touch Stanâs injured shoulder, and weaved around him. âStan, please, wait.â
Stan laughed, turning around. His grin looked painful. âIâm tired of waiting, Siâ Stanford. I really am.â
Ford didnât have time for this. His heart ached in ways Ford didnât have the time to decipher as the humming in the room got louder, and he turned to move back to the control room. âJust a moment, Stanley, I just needââ
When Stan latched onto his arm and tried to whirl Ford back around, Ford reacted on pure instinct and deep seated paranoia, that kind that can only be born from aftermath of pure devastation. He followed the momentum and shoved Stan back as hard as he could, turning and sprinting to the control room before Stan could recover and try to stop him again.
âStanford?â
He never got there. Stanâs voice, suddenly small and scared, ground Fordâs pace to a halt. The humming was louder now, reverberating through his chest.Â
âFord, whatâs happening?â
For a terrible moment, Ford didnât turn around. He just stared at the door of the control room as if he could stop time if he tried hard enough. He didnât want to see. Seeing made it real. It meant his worst fears had become true, it justified the cold sinking in his chest.Â
âFord!â
Ford whirled around and let out a hoarse cry. There Stanley was, greasy hair floating in a halo around his face, one hand outstretched and the other holding Fordâs journal tight to his chest. Ford had pushed him over the danger line.
The look on his twins face was worse than Ford couldâve ever imagined.Â
The anger had drained out of him, the closer he floated to the all consuming blue light of the portal. The was naked terror in his eyes, and he cried out for Ford again.
âStanley! Hold on, please!â Ford said, before making another break for the control room.
He needed to shut it off right this instant.
âHold onto what, brainiac!?â
âI donât know, Stanley! Anything within reach, just donât let yourself go through the portal.â
Ford input the shut down code. He input it again. He then realized that theyâd knocked the cords out of alignment and frantically began adjusting them from where they were wired into the top of the control panel. Shit, they really broke everything in this room, didnât they?
The third time he input the code, the light flashed green, and the keys made themselves known on a panel adjacent to Fordâs position by the window.
Three keys. Of course. Why did he have to make it three keys, all turned simultaneously?
Metal screeched in the portal room, and when Ford dared to glance up between trying to maneuver himself to turn all three keys, a jolt of horror swept through him and nearly knocked him off his feet.Â
Stan has nearly entirely consumed by the light now, clawing at the edge of the portal heâd managed to reach. Ford cursed himself when he realized that the metal plate Stan was holding, as well as  over a dozen others, were loosening to the point of nearly falling off entirely from the main frame. The other objects heâd scattered across the floor of his lab, everything from basic tools like screwdrivers to bigger machine parts floated through the portal at increasingly high speeds.
Ford wouldnât need to do anything, he realized, and it wasnât the comfort he wished it was. The portal was destabilizing. Judging by the erratic pulsing the portal light was doing, itâd be closing soon.
Ford ran out of the control room and stopped short just as Stan locked eyes with him again.Â
âStanley!â he called, another desperate idea beginning to form in his panic addled mind as he scanned the room for spare rope and found none. The spare rope from the first portal test mustâve gotten caught in the portals expanding gravitational pull. His brother was barely a shadow in the light now, but Ford knew Stanley had heard him. âIf you toss me the journal, I canââ
âThe journal?â Stan gasped out, frenzied. âIs that still all you care about!?â
âNo, no, if I just had the instructions, I could fixââ this, fix everything.Â
The screeching of metal and thundering of the portal reached a deafening crescendo, and Ford could see Stan open his mouth to interrupt, to say something, assent or argument orâ
But Ford didnât get to find out what Stan wouldâve said. A particularly violent jolt shook the metal frame of the portal, and Stan, with a wide-eyed final look that Ford didnât know how to decipher, slipped.
His brother disappeared into the light just as the portal collapsed in on itself with enough concussive force to send Ford crashing to the ground. He slammed onto his back hard enough to knock the air from his lungs.
Silence fell over the room. It was dark.
Ford stared at the ceiling above him, then dragged his eyes, slowly, painfully, to the portal.Â
The deactivated, half missing and half obliterated portal.
For a long, long time, Ford sat in the dark under the full weight of every bruise and scratch and burn heâd sustained, and it was like he was underwater, head swimming with nausea and pain and bewilderment. He was numb.Â
A faint plip-plop sound echoed suddenly through the deathly silent basement, and Ford squinted at the sound through his crooked glasses, trying to identify the source.Â
A dark substance stained the edge of the portal, right where Stan had been holding on. Ford watched blankly as the liquid slowly rolled along the curve of the portal entrance, before reached a jagged gap in the perfect circle and slipping through. It slid down the jagged and crumpled panels, weaving until it gathered at the tip of a particularly jutting sheet of metal.Â
Another drip.
Another.
Ford shifted closer, simply trying to breathe. He pointedly didnât think about how the other side of the portal had driven Fiddleford to seemingly the brink of madness in moments, he didnât think about the glimpse into the Nightmare Realm Bill had given him when he first revealed his true hand, and he certainly didnât think about the final look Stanley had given him, grief and rage and betrayal all rolled into one.
He finally got close enough to see the liquid for what it was. It wasnât oil, like heâd figured, like heâd hoped and prayed with every inhale and exhale to the gods he didnât believe in. It was too thick, congealing with familiar splatters on the floor. It was a deep crimson.
Stan must have cut his hand on the metal with how hard heâd been holding it, Ford realized, and the thoughts were the first crack in the dam Ford had buried himself beneath. This was Stanâs blood.
Stan was in the Nightmare Realm, bleeding from one hand and burned on the other shoulder and begging for Ford to do something, asking Ford what was happening because he didnât know, because Ford didnât tell him, andâ Â
It was all Fords fault.
All of it.
Oh Moses.
The dam creaked with warning, a death rattle and a laugh rolled into one, before Ford was swept into the undertow.
Ford had killed his own brother.
All alone in the dark basement with the machine heâd turned into his brotherâs grave, Ford buried his burnt, bloody hands in his hair and bowed his head until it hit his knees. All alone, Stanford Pines cried for the first time in years.
Alternate Titles: The Worst Conversation Ever
Or: Ford started disassembling the portal early and everything went to shit accordingly.
Tags! @aroace-get-out-of-my-face @pleasantartisanhottea @empressofsamoyeds @littlelilliana15 @pinefamilycatsau @thejaxindianrizzler (I saw your comment in the og post and it made me laugh cause I was in the middle of working on this when I noticed it) (I hope you donât mind the tag :))
if I missed anyone Iâm sorry about that! The tag is always a fair option to follow too (#martian Stan au)
#If I had a nickel for every time one of these ended with Ford mourning his own brother and being mean to himself Iâd have two nickels#If I collect enough maybe Iâll be able to afford his therapy (post fic comfort)#gravity falls#stanford pines#Stanley pines#tale of two stans#martian stan au#YES ITS A TAG NOW AHAH#This is us winning#Long post#my art#fanfiction#Once again saying for the record that Ford is a very biased guy. Heâs constantly fist fighting himself and his brother and a literal god#Simultaneously#I love him and all his many many faults#Guys I might have to actually turn this into a proper Ao3 fic is this keeps up#I want to have most of it written before I do that though#So Iâll actually finish it#I think Iâll post excerpts here and there in the mean time :)) for you guys <3#Gravity falls fic#mullet stan#paranoid ford#theyâre in the trenches I fear#tw blood#Tw injury#cw uhhhh horrible miscommunication aha#Okay Iâll shut up now
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àŒșJazzProwl Fic RecsàŒ»
â brought to you by puraiuddo -
This is by all means not a complete list of banger JP fics! It's my personal favoritesâthose fics that lodged themselves in my brain for one reason or another and never left.
Hopefully this list satisfies at least some of the sudden influx of interest for JP fics (and given how well rec'ing a fic turned out last time...) But, nah for real, not to make rec'ing fics fake deep or anything, but I think the fandom would be a better place if people were more unapologetically enthusiastic about fics and less afraid to interact with authors. So if you use this list to find some fics you have to promise to leave some unhinged comments! Ù©("âąÌáŽâąÌ")Ù ÌÌ
But before I start, I want to acknowledge the prevalence of potentially stereotypical depictions of Jazz in regards to his speech (â), criminal/violent/sexual characterization (âŸ), or backstory/origins (âČ) in the JP/TF fandom. I've attempted to flag fics with the corresponding symbols above, because I'd like to recognize those problems while still rec'ing for a variety of other fantastic qualities. That said, I'm not infallible so please use your own discretion.
I've also tagged fics with "hiatus" if it's been a while between updates, but the author hasn't made a commentâthese fics are especially important to interact with, b/c you never know if the author stopped posting b/c they weren't getting any reviews!
Now, without further adieu...
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àŒșJazzProwl-centricàŒ»
Mistakes on Mistakes Untilâ by jabberish
ăoneshot - ao3 - Words: 280,212 - Alt-War AUă
Ricochet's got a bad case of conscience and he's pretty sure it's about to get him killed. (aka I think I've read every defection/ex-Con au and now I'm forced to make my own. Jazz-centric.)
* (ㄠᎠ_ áŽ)ă„⥠The crĂšme de la crĂšme of JP fics. I really can't properly articulate the sheer amount of love and respect I have for MOMU other than that if you haven't read it, your life is worse for it. Go read it. Then read it again. Now. (I've read it 4 times. No, I'm not joking) I love all the fics on this list dearly, but MOMU holds a very special place in my heart. Flawless characterization, flawless dynamics, flawless plot, one-of-a-kind writing style... it's got it all. Of note: I've not flagged it despite its premise, because it will expertly subvert your expectations and you need to read it to understand. Bonus: it's got a lot of well-deserved fanart!
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Untitled Series by Need2Scream
ă(2/?) - ffn - Words: 158,064 - War AU - hiatusă
Where the Lonely Ones Roam - 116,327
"Say you have a little faith in me. Just close your eyes and let me lead. Follow me home. Need to have a little trust in me. Just close your eyes and let me lead. Follow me home. To where the lonely ones roam." Eventual Prowl/Jazz
Spark - 41,737 - hiatus
"Chase you deep into the unknown. In my dark, in my dark, you're the Spark."/ "Roam with me, come down to where all of the others fell. Get lost, in the dark to find yourself. Just remember what I said, 'cause it isn't over yet."/SEQUEL to Where the Lonely Ones Roam
*It's not clear by the summary, but the series is essentially about Jazz and Prowl's developing relationship as they overcome war-related trauma, intermingled with a spectacular amount of original lore. See the author's ffn bio for a rundown. The originality and attention to detail in the world building in this AU is awe-inspiring. There are 2 fics in the JP series, but the author has a bunch of other Gen fics set in the same AU and another on ao3. Bonus: some of the Gen fics are Jazz & Prowl-centric and can be read as romantic!
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Crime in Crystals Series by Aard_Rinn
ă(7/?) - ao3 - Words: 258,030 - Crime/Hitman AU - hiatus - ⟠âČă
The Hitman - 6,942 - pt 1
Prowl is the last clean cop in Praxus, the final flickering light in the darkness. There are plenty of people who would like to see him snuffed.
2. The Clarification, 3. The Kill, 4. The Capture, 5. The Prime, 6. The Talk, 7. The Chase 8. TBD
*The main plot is broken into 7 separate fics, but it's all one continuous story. Read the whole thing! It's on my all time favorites. It's thrilling, tremendously action packed, and the character dynamics are some of my favorites. It's also hysterical and wholesome and I've reread it a stupid amount of times. Bonus: it's got fanart + there are 5 extra fics, including a Jazz-centric prequel, in the same AU.
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War Eternal Series by Hearts of Eternity
ă(3/4) - ffn - 2m? idk it's insane - Bayverse War AU - discontinued - ⟠â âČă
Where You and I Collide - 362,090 - prequel
Separately, Jazz and Prowl are like forces of nature- they are uncompromising and uncontrollable. But what becomes of their natures when these two unstoppable forces collide? Will one break the other, or will they both be stronger for it?
As We Come Together - 485,586 - pt 2 - Gen
While the surviving Autobots begin to flock to Earth in response to Optimus' call, trying to find a new home on the strange organic planet called Earth, some unfortunate bots are beginning to realize the price of war may have been too high. Sequel to Time
May We Never Let Go - 408,409 - pt 3 - Gen - d/c
Hell literally lies in wait above Earth as the Cybertronians and Earthlings coexist uneasily, rattled by every attack the Fallen and his master launch on them. With new evil rising, the powers that be on Earth and beyond are gearing up for war.
1. As We Come Together, prequel 2: Surface of the Sun
*Long, convoluted explanation coming up given that this series is obviously a whole different beast compared to likely any other fanfic series you or I have ever encountered in our lives... b/c the author is just superhuman or smth idk...
The series is officially listed as 4 parts (WYaIC, WTWHL, AWCT, MWNLG). Where You and I Collide is the JP-centric prequel to the other 3 Gen fics (that have substantial background JP). WTWHL is technically part 1 of the series, but it's sorta more character-focused ficlets than a continuous story... which is why I didn't specifically list it as a rec even if that makes things more confusing... (á”ÂŹáŽÂŹ) Also the author didn't list Surface of the Sun as part of the series, but it's a direct prequel (like WYaIC) starring the Lambo twins and it's... oh it's so good... absolutely shatters my heart that it's been d/c'd.
I've not listed an exact world count, b/c if you want to read every bit of the AU with all its prequels and offshoots (which I would highly recommend and have done)... I'm not gonna do the math for you, sorry. The main 4-part story is ~1.7m+ which I realize is frankly insane and extraordinarily intimidating, but it is so sooo sooooo worth it. The author has created their own fully fleshed out TF world with its own lore and characters and the time and effort they've put into is mind-boggling .
Anywho, despite ultimately being d/c'd, the series is still tremendously readable and nothing about JP is left feeling unbearably unfinished. I also happened to track down the lovely author and beg for a summary of the ending, b/c I'm a bit of a freak and they very kindly provided it so if not knowing how a fic ends bothers you/prevents you from reading, you have the option of getting closure even if you can't have it written out.
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Fathomless by Sroloc_Elbisivni
ăoneshot - ao3 - Words: 19,949 - Fantasy AU - completeă
Jazz is drowning on dry land on the other side of the world. Once upon a time, before Jazz was born, the Rust Sea covered a swathe of Cybertron bigger than the territory of any city-state except Iacon. The sea had been more powerful than any engine besides the one at the heart of the planet itself, big enough to swallow a metrotitan in its depths, the birthplace of storms. Thing is, none of that was Jazz. He doesnât remember those days, before he was himself, except in his dreams. And his dreams are terrifying.
*This fic makes me feel some type of way... it gives me shivers. It's so eerie and the premise is so unique. It's also beautifully bittersweet, which is a hard concept to pull off.
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The Judge by SilenceoftheLlamas
ăoneshot - ao3 - Words: 107,653 - Alt-War AUă
Prowlâs got a secret, and heâd rather be dead in the ground before he let anyone find out about it. Jazzâs got one too, but heâs not as good at hiding it. Prowl is a secret superhero, Jazz is a secret fanboy who doesnât know that he works with the guy. By night Prowl is the virtuous hero The Judge, but by day heâs just an unassuming tactical officer.
*Jazz and Prowl are sorta painfully adorable in this fic and the JP is so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. Plus it's got a really fun premise with lots of shenanigans.
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Black on White on Black Series by pipermca
ă(3/?) - ao3 - Words: 86,248 - fix-it, War AU - completeă
Anamnesis - 31,097 - pt 1
When Jazz and his team are lost on a mission, Prowl has to carry on alone. But a discovery a thousand vorn later could turn his life upside down again.
2. The Ghost of the Howling Plains, 3. Pulling Strings
*Super interesting sorta-kinda-fix-it fic and/or explanation for the events and characterizations in IDW. There are 3 stories in the main JP plot line. Bonus: there's 2 "Extras" fics for cut scenes from the main fics.
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Crystal Ghosts Series by Rizobact
ă(2/2) - ao3 - Words: 85,688 - Fantasy AU - complete - âČă
Enduring as Crystal - 40,517 - pt 1
There were a lot of reasons Prowl visited the library. He never knew the most important one was waiting for him in the garden behind it.
Eternal as Love - 45,171 - pt 2
Prowl promised he would help Jazz, the ghost of the crystal chapel in the garden behind Praxus' central library. He just couldn't anticipate what shape that help would wind up taking.
*Another super unique premise! I love a good historical mystery and the imagery is specularly evocative! And I'm a sucker for the trope... which I can't reveal, because of spoilers.
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Untitled Series by Vaeru
ă(2/2) - ffn - Words: 10,766 - War AU - complete - âă
Descant - 7,925 - pt 2
G1/Jux compliant. Requiem sequel. Prowl doubted that his desired image of Respected Superior Officer came across very well with a half-scrapped mech clinging to his hand, but he loomed as best as he was able and glared.
*Requiem is Jazz-centric and I'd say more of a prequel to Descant than Descant is a sequel to Requiem... if that makes any sense. Regardless of how you view it or what order you read it, it's fucking brutal. (-âż-â) Bonus: author also wrote another really great fic called Transformers: Juxtaposition which is Lambo twin-centric and OC-centric, but perhaps one of the only OC fics that I've ever enjoyed.
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Domino Milkshake by SilenceoftheLlamas
ăoneshot - (1/?) - ao3 - Words: 24,886 - War AU - complete - âă
Jazz drunkenly pretends that he's dating Prowl. Only he isn't, and the mech is right behind him.
*It's a fake dating AU... what more can I say? I love the the begrudging developing romance and the meddling friends. Bonus: it's got fanart!
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Hunter's Spark by WandersUnderStarlight
ăoneshot - ao3 - Words: 43,645 - Alt-War AU - âă
Jazz disobeys orders to abandon the ruins of Praxus and runs into one of the Senate's dirty secrets.
*This author also has a few more JP fics that I enjoy like An Offer He Can't Refuse and Long Patrol. I gotta offer aisclaimer though: the fics are... fairly cliche and a bit OOC. Hunter's Spark is much more tame than the other two, though. They're all sorta a guilty pleasure of mine, because it's fun to enjoy Prowl being a bit of a BAMF and Jazz being a bit of a damsel on occasion even if objectively I understand why it's not everyone's cup of tea. ("ïżŁâœïżŁ";)ă But the author definitely deserves credit for creative and entertaining premises and a really nice writing style!
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Little Brother by Meiza
ăoneshot - ffn - Words: 64,542 - War AU - discontinuedă
Prowl is infamous for being a logical, nigh emotionaless thinker who's better at battle calculations than interpersonal relationships. How he was roped into taking care of the last survivor of Praxus is anyone's guess.
*Prowl & Bluestreak centric, but Jazz has a solid amount of screentime. The subplot is pre-relationship, co-parenting JazzProwl and it's cute as hell. It's not 'officially' discontinued, but it hasn't been updated since 2010... so... At least it doesn't end in a cliffhanger. (â„ïčâ„|||)
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Things We Don't Tell Humans by SineadRivka
ăoneshot - ao3 - Words: 363,057 - Bayverse War AU - completeă
This was a first for us Autobots; never before have we come in contact with a species like these humans, so eerily similar to our own race and twice as tenacious as Sparklings. The question was, how far can we trust the humans with our culture? Some things have translated between cultures without much effort. Other subjects, howeverâŠ
*Please note the tags! Also... I'll be honest that I mostly skip to the JP parts and main plot points in this fic as it's about a very ensemble cast and I'm not interested in TF humans ... so I can't entirely vouch for the integrity of the whole thing. (ïżąÏïżą;)
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Echoes of Messatine by MlleMusketeer
ăoneshot - ao3 - Words: 303,863 - Alt-War AU - complete - ⟠ă
Cybertron hurtles toward war, and only a handful of mecha see it. Not Megatron, whose inflammatory writings gain him agonizing attention from those on high. Not Ratchet, the Iacon Medical Centerâs most prized practitioner, whose Dead-End clinic remains the worst-guarded secret on Cybertron. Not Overlord, whose iron hold over Cybertronâs underworld is beginning to falter. Not Orion Pax, whose concern over the sudden silence of one of his favorite writers drives him to take up his heroâs pen. Not Terminus, who only wants to survive. But Trepan and Senator Shockwave both know well whatâs coming. One aims to use a defiant minerâs fall to crush the aspirations of the masses. The other wants to use that minerâs triumph to ignite them. Neither much cares about Megatron himself, or his ultimate survival. Therein lies their fatal error.
*Not clear from the summary, but the premise is essentially "what if Megatron got the matrix instead of OP" and how their pre-war lives would have to pan out for them to ultimately switch roles. Just a really fascinating, supremely well-done "what-if" fic, but also probably the weirdest one to put on this particular list, b/c JP turns into megatron/JP at the very, very end... but... I just kinda ignore that development since it happens in like almost literally in the last chapter and you can def read it as friendship up until that point... (ÂŹâ€ÂŹ á”)
àŒșââââââââ-ËË â« âĄ đ©đȘ ËË-ââââââââàŒ»
àŒșMatureàŒ»
*listen... don't @ me. They're definitely saucy, but they're not explicit. Yada, yada... hey minors, don't read these! ...But we all know you will so just don't talk to me or anyone else about it, cool? Cool. (â ͥ° ÍÊ ÍĄÂ°)â
Intermission by crabapplered
ăoneshot - ao3 - Words: 5,049 - War AU - complete - âŸă
As the war stretched on for interminable vorn, Prowl found himself faced time and again with the mounting stress of his position. Many of those times he was forced to face alone, the gear grinding stress sending him to Ratchet for system overhauls and forced defrags. But every so often he'd be fortunate enough to have Jazz on hand, and when he did, well, it didn't take much. Pressing Jazz up against the wall, cramming him into corners, pinning him facedown over Prowl's desk. It didn't matter as long he could keep Jazz still.
àŒșââàŒ»àŒșââàŒ»àŒșââàŒ»àŒșââàŒ»àŒșââàŒ»
Audition by crabapplered
ăoneshot - ao3 - Words: 12,783 - War AU - complete - âŸă
If one were to be delicate, one would say that Jazz and Prowl are incompatible. The blunt truth? 'You just lie there with this blank expression on your face,' he'd been told by his last partner. Signal had stayed longer then most, willing to try since Prowl was so obviously doing his best, interfacing to please his partner and give him what Prowl himself disliked. In the end, though, it hadn't worked. 'You don't like me touching you, you don't like the mess, you don't even like the overload, and half the time I swear you're running economic simulations in your CPU you look that bored. I don't want that. I don't want you miserable, and I don't want me miserable, either.' So why can't Prowl stop wishing?
àŒșâĄâŠâĄâŠâĄâŠâĄ -ËË â« âĄ đ©đȘ ËË- âĄâŠâĄâŠâĄâŠâĄàŒ»
That's all, folks.
àŽŠà”àŽŠàŽż(ïœĄâąÌÏ-)⧠~Happy reading!
and for the shit tumblr search/tag system, i offer: #jazzprowl #jazzprowl recs #jazz x prowl #jazzprowl fic recs #jazzprowl fanfic recs #tansformers fic recs #tf jazzprowl #tf fic recs
#jazzprowl fanfiction#jazzprowl fic recs#jazz x prowl#jazzprowl#prowljazz#jazzprowl fic list#tf jazz#tf prowl#transformers fic recs#tf fics recs#fic recs#yes i've combed through all of ao3 and ffn for everything i can get my hands on why do you ask? i suppose maybe i might read too much why?#call me spiders fanfic#purs post#purs fic refs#i've been much too meticulous with the formatting given that i'll inevitably notice errors that'll drive me insane later ÂŻ\_(ă)_/ÂŻ#but hey ADHD ease of reading amirite? i can't stand unifrom text in general... but a boring list of all things is straight up off limits#my brain shorts out#so y'all get this instead
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Turns out, Odysseus thinks hysterically, being on a magic island with a Titanâs child for seven years has⊠affects.
What the fuck, he thinks. Calypso and Hermes looks just as confused as he feels. (Which rules out that this might be one of Calypsoâs schemes. She canât truly act for the life of her; Itâs always in her eyes and she canât do a long act).
There are scales on his arms. And legs. And neck. And basically everywhere, actually. They come in patches and in different concentrations; The biggest batch is the one already consuming his abdomen, and meeting with the ones growing on his thighs and just generally his legs The other highest concentration is on his elbows, and they spread faster down towards his hands.
Theyâre a mix of sea-green-blue and gray; Some of the pale-soot colored scales bounce off a warm hazel or sunset-orange in the dappled sunlight that leaks through the trees. The gray - and especially the warm-gray - patches have some dusky gray and sepia feathers peaking out, in between the scales. The most of them are around his neck or from his elbows through his forearms. His hands have grown into aqua tipped webbed claws as well.
What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck, he thinks on a loop. As he huffs a hysterical laugh, he can feel his teeth having sharpened into needle point snake-like fangs and on that point - his tongue has thinned into something rough and forked. A snakeâs tongue as well. The panic increases. (There are whispers in the wind now, feeling of his dead crew).
His ears twitch as he looks at his reflection in a nearby stream, peacefully running like everything in Ogygia, and - holy mother of Zeus what the fuuuuck
His⊠ears (can he even call them that? His hearing still seems the sameâŠ) have transformed into⊠fins? They remind him of the sirensâ ears, actually, though a bit wider and thinner. Theyâre mainly the same sea-green-blue color that the scales decorating mainly his lower half are, only fading into a cool blue gray as they near his head. âŠAre those more feathers behind his fin-ears??? (Scratchy ghost hands reach out of the water, like they did the River Styx. Not real, not real, he automatically tells himself, ignores them).
He turns back to the two gods, who are still staring at him; He feels his fin-ears(???) dip down in panic.
Hermes at least seems like heâs thinking - and worried - even if Odyseeus canât see his eyes. He doesnât want to look at Calypso much for anything, but the quick glance he gives seems to spell a similar expression, if not with a bit of⊠anger. Or disgust. (He hopes itâs the latter; He still feels a spike of fear at the anger. Nothing good ever came of her, much less of her anger).
(Odysseus doesnât notice in his hysteria, but as his breathing picks up, his legs fuse together, into a snake tail. Hermes catches the moment).
Hermes seems to have thought of something, as his shoulders drop just the slightest and he slowly floats towards Odysseus, as if he was an unbroken horse (or monster, Odysseus thinks. He did say heâd become the monster but this- this is-), holding his hands in front of him in a placating gesture.
âCalm,â Hermes breathes in soft voice. Odysseus tries to follow the godâs orders. âCalm,â Hermes whispers again.
Heâs done this before, he thinks, as he turns his gaze on the grass floor, unfocusing. Despite whatever in his gods forsaken travels or the war. Shut it all off. (turn off your heart, a ghost Athena murmurs behind him. Not real, he knows. Follows anyway. Why didnât he listen to her all those years ago.)
Odysseus canât do it as.. cleanly as usually could with the whole⊠well. But he tampers it down a bit. Evidently at least Hermes is willing to help. (He ignores his thoughts on how Penelope might react). Theyâll⊠figure something out.
He tries to think about it calmer; He can feel his panicked tangled thoughts flow into a familiar, calmer weaving feeling, like whenever he makes a good plan and all itâs variables. Is it a curse from Poseidon? The fins and sea-green make him think that, if not for the feathers that are definitely not part of the Earthshakerâs realm. The feathers actually make him think of Athena but- but she didnât answer him earlier- or did she? Hermes seemed uncomfortable and oddly tightlipped about⊠something; Something happening in Olympus, Odysseus can guess that much. Regardless, the most of⊠this seems to a snake. Snakes are either of Athena, Hermes, or Ares.
âd...eus,â
Odysseus has never even met Ares, that goes to Diomedes, he absentmindedly thinks - only Hermes and Athena, and the silver & sienna scales and feathers are very in their domain, however, Hermes obviously doesnât know much about it, so he can really only think itâs Athena - the myth of Medusa flashes in his mind - except again, he points out against himself, the fins. Theyâre so clearly Poseidon, and he knows the both of them - Athena better - enough that he knows theyâd rather impossibly die that work together for something as so small as a curse.
âOod...seuusss,â
But if Poseidon can hold a grudge and he knows Athena well enough to know that she does to, as much as she denies, but still then, why would it be years after - is it cause he called to her?
âOdysseus!â Hermes half yells. The mortal in questions jumps, standing again. âŠWhen did he stop standing in the first place âŠwait a minute was he higher than usual earlier? Think about that later, Odysseus tells himself, shaking off the familiar feeling of fading into his thoughts.
Odysseus looks up towards Hermes, who looks a bit worried, but not as panicked as he did earlier. Odysseus looks back down at himself. There are still some scales and feathers, but considerably less. His hands have dulled down - theyâre still sharper than usual, but theyâre not claws, and the webbing between them is similarly less.
He feels around his mouth. His tongue is still⊠forked, but thatâs all - still a human tongue otherwise; his fangs are still sharp, though.
âYesss?â Itâs harder to speak with a forked tongue and fangs. Thereâs a slight hiss and lisp at the end of the word.
Hermes doesn't respond, glancing at Calypso, then Odysseus, then Calypso again before partially turning to her, lips pressed, adopting a colder expression, like he did when he was addressing Calypso earlier, to tell them Odysseus was finally free. Hermes nods his head towards the general direction of Calypsoâs âhomeâ. Calypso opens her mouth, indignant, but the pressure in the air increases as Hermesâ wings stretch up and out, spreading the feathers in an act Odysseus can somehow instinctively tell is meant to intimidate. Calypso closes her mouth, still looking upset but cowed, and she runs off.
Hermes turns back to him, the wings furling back into resting near the god's ears, pressure in the air lifting. He stares for another moment, before sighing and giving Odysseus a small smile, infinitely softer than his usual mischievous ones.
He floats towards Odysseus (careful and gentle and so much unlike Calypso-) and tucks some of his curls behind his slightly-webbed ears, careful around the scales; he lightly ruffles his head like he used to when Odysseus was so, so much younger.
"Should be fine, my friend," Hermes whispers. "Rises with your emotions, no?" Hermes watches the wheels turn in Odysseus' head. Yeah, Odysseus thinks, mind blank in a good way that it hasn't been in a long while. Okay. He nods. "Smart, kid," Hermes whispers.
One of Hermes' ear-wings twitch, and his head minutely tilts towards Calypso's 'home' before tilting back to Odysseus. Hermes softly runs his hand behind Odysseus' head and leads him towards the beachside. There's a raft bobbing back and forth with the waves.
They're really letting me go, Odysseus walks towards the raft, water splashing against his legs. He turns back to Hermes who- is gone- wait no; Hermes flits back from somewhere, wings fluttering and a moderately large basket full of food, water, and clothing in his hands that he pushes into Odysseus' hands.
The god gently hurries Odysseus onto the ship, and after setting down the basket helps him push the raft into the open sea. With Hermes' help, Odysseus is far enough out to barely see the shape of Calypso, once she made to the coastline; Odysseus turns his head away from her. From Ogygia.
Hermes stays with him for a while, until Ogygia's silhouette is shrouded in fog, fading into sky. Hermes watches it fade away, as Odysseus keeps his eyes trained to the open sea (Captain-).
The messenger god turns back to Odysseus, and hovers in front of him. He lightly ruffles his hair again, and his hand cups the side of his head as Hermes ducks his head down and presses a kiss to his great-grandson's forehead.
"Call my name, and I shall be there," Hermes murmurs with a fond smile. With that, Hermes dissipates in a quiet flutter and feathers.
-
ok. so. this developed into great-grandfather hermes. uhm. yeah. anyway. so, in procrastinating on this I now have a full tag for monster-ody-au, it's called Ithacan Naga AU.
*ody has been dissociating his entire stay on Calypsoâs island, besides maybe the first year, where he hadnât spent enough time to be affected. His heightened emotions at leaving cause the actual affects to show, btw.
So! There's absolutely a ref post with a verrry long conversation in the replies that talks about it but to formally do it/add onto it: > Ody's scales are mainly/usually sea-blue-green to gray/purple, but changes colors based on lighting! > Ogygia isn't meant to be inhabited by normal people (or smth), so after seven years + Calypso's inherent magic (as a titan's daughter) it changes Odysseus into basically what Ithacans/Ody would be if he was greek monster, which is why he doesn't notice it & why it's overall very natural. -> Ithacans would really just be sea-snake nagas with some feathers. Ody is special cause he's a descendent of Hermes (and maybe Zeus) & Athena blessed, so he gets wings. > He's venomous! > He can "unhinge" his jaw (Snakes have an extra[?] bone called a quadratic bone that connects the top half of their skull & their jaw, which lets them extend it more. The jaw is also in two parts & has a stretchy ligament to let it stretch). > Full length naga, Ody is like... 27-33 ft? > He has three pairs of wings, one of the small of his back, near his waist, and the other two on the side of his snake half. > He gets gills! Three near his human ribs, a few several spaced out throughout his snake half.
Small headcannons that make a cameo in this: > Hermes used to hang out with little Odysseus (and Ctimene) before Athena (and Ares) came along and chose Ody (and Mene) > Ody has schizophrenia (and PTSD, by now).
...my battery is about to die & I can't remember anything else so that's all for now
#ithacan naga au#odysseus#calypso#hermes#hermes epic the musical#epic hermes#epic calypso#eugh#ogygia#cannot get over that it's said like that#euuughhh#epic odysseus#epic the musical#wiriting#i should post this on ao3 too i guess?#maybe#might as well I have a few scenes I've been vaugely hallucinating#(aka I ahve not been getting my shit together irl)#uhhmmmm#yeah
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Trustfall
Ao3
Just a little thing I wrote to explore the Jimmy and Scar dynamic. Set loosely after session two. Enjoy! <3
Night comes, and Scar can't hide from his feelings anymore. They catch up to him - like everything does, eventually. Scar can never run fast enough.
He's on another mountain, this one green and pink and bright, bordered by tall shoots of bamboo and topped with cherry blossom trees, decorated with growing wheat fields and pens that - sometimes - house sheep and cows. It's all so... alive. So beautiful. So fragile.
The beauty of it is not the surprising part. It's not even that he spent the better part of the day eating dirt or leaves or shovels. No, the strangest thing on the mountain is the people. The strangest thing about them is that they're there at all. With Scar. On purpose.
He can't quite figure it out. The why of it. Jimmy had made it look so easy to say he would stay, like he couldn't think of a million reasons not to. And then Lizzie, who he had invited, and then still been surprised to see her there when he got back. They do it without obligation. Scar had almost forgotten what that felt like.
Neither of them are tethered to him by fate or bound by an oath. They're just there, bright and silly and constant. He'd had something close to it, once, with the allies he'd jokingly called his family, but that had been... messy.
Jimmy and Lizzie make caring about him feel like something simple.
Tell me about your theme park idea, Lizzie had said, and he had. He'd braced himself for- for something. For dismissal. For a roll of the eyes.
A good theme park has three things. Lizzie had mused instead. We need rides, decorations, and a mascot. I think one of us here has real mascot energy.
Jimmy's face had lit up. Lizzie had built three birds at the entrance to their base, standing proudly. Scar stares at them now, shadowy figures in the dark. They're a team. And as much as Lizzie jokes and groans about what a handful the two of them are, they're still equals. They understand each other. Lizzie knows what it's like to be alone, overlooked. Jimmy knows what it's like to be seen as a burden, a joke.
Somehow, despite everything, they trust each other. It's terrifying.
"Stargazing?"
Scar jumps at the voice, a quiet yelp escaping his throat before he can stop it. He twists his torso to look, a jerky motion, and lays eyes on Jimmy, who seems a bit apologetic. "Ah, sorry-"
"Geez, Jimmy, oh my god," Scar says through wheezing breaths, hand pressed to his chest. "This is the life series, man, you can't sneak up on- on a man in thought!"
"Right, sorry, sorry," Jimmy continues, laughing a little bit. "Thought you heard me walk over."
Jimmy sits down next to him, clothes rumpled from bed. It's quiet, fireflies blinking and crickets chirping in the distance. The moon is nearly full, high in the sky. It's early enough in the game that a full nights sleep is still an option. And yet-
"Couldn't sleep?" Jimmy asks, tone light but genuine.
"Oh, you know," Scar says, humming. "Stomach ache. Dirt doesn't agree with me. Who knew?"
"Yeah, glad that one's over." Jimmy stretches his legs out in front of him. "Think I chipped a tooth. I'm billing Grian."
Scar laughs quietly, mindful of Lizzie snoring just a few yards away. That's another thing he's not quite used to: sleeping with others nearby. It's comforting. He's afraid he'll get used to it.
They sit in silence for a while, comfortable and secure. Their frankly absurd amount of bamboo rustles in the gentle wind, cherry blossom petals perpetually raining down around them. It's the kind of perfect peace that has Scar waiting on the other shoe to drop.
"...What was winning like?" Jimmy asks eventually, voice soft.
"...I don't know," Scar says. "It didn't really feel like winning. It was kind of just, like. Sad."
"Sad?"
"Yeah." Scar sighs, leaning back to look at the stars. "I thought it might make me feel better, to just- to prove that I could."
Jimmy hums like he's really listening, like he understands, and Scar... Something settles. Something that has been flinching for a very long time goes still.
"I was tired of being alone," he admits. "Still am. I end up that way a lot."
"Not this time," Jimmy says, a lopsided smile on his face. "Not on my watch."
He places a comforting hand on Scar's shoulder. Grounding. Real.
Oh, Scar thinks. This is what it's like to have something to lose.
"You sure it's not too early to say that?" Scar asks, half teasing. "You might be running for the hills a week from now. I'm not- I'm not an easy teammate."
"Hey, me neither, pal." Jimmy nudges him, smile a bit jagged at the edges. "I'm known for dying early. I've got issues with longevity."
"They make medicine for that."
"Wh- Scar!"
Scar doubles over, wheezing uncontrollably. Jimmy follows helplessly, in a way that almost sounds painful. It continues for a while, until Lizzie makes a small noise in her sleep, and the two of them choke back their laughter to something manageable, tapering back into silence. Scar feels... happy. He feels happy. It's...
"How about you?" Scar asks. "Anything you want to get off your chest? Just between us. And the giant parrot statues."
"Ehh, I don't know," Jimmy says playfully, eying the parrots suspiciously. "I don't know if I trust 'em."
"And me?"
"You?" Jimmy glances sideways at him, eyes light and honest. "Of course. We're the Bam Boys."
Trust is something that Scar had thought he'd killed a long time ago. Jimmy offers it anyway. It's like a lighthouse in a storm. The sun to a flower. Water in a desert.
Trust. Just this once, Scar vows not to break it.
"So," Scar says, like nothing just happened. "Anything?"
Jimmy exhales shakily, looking away, down at his hands. There's dirt under his fingernails. Scar waits.
"I don't want to die first," Jimmy says, a faint tone of embarrassment in his voice. "I know it's like, a thing, but I really..."
Canary, they call him. A creature whose purpose is to die.
Scar knows a thing or two about unwanted titles. He sometimes feels like the role of Villain is still branded onto his skin, with the way some people look at him.
I don't want to die, cries the Canary, but the miner only pays attention when the singing stops.
"You won't," Scar says, as close to a promise as he can get. "Not this time. Not on my watch."
Jimmy grins crookedly, something relieved at the corners of his eyes. "That right?"
"That's right."
They go back to bed.
#I've been wanting to write something for them since the first episode came out and i finally got around to it :]#i love them your honor#goodtimeswithscar#solidaritygaming#wild life smp#trafficblr#my writing#might post on ao3 but like. tomorrow maybe bc it's 2am rn <3#goodnight!!#đŠââŹ
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forgive me if this exact posts exists somewhere already I feel like it certainly could. but the thing about dtamhd is that the fantasy of removing the heart is not actually âviolent.â he removes a manâs heart but does it with no great force; the man does not die or even react; there is a stillness and peace and even gentleness to that scene. I just do not believe Dennis engages with this fantasy on the level of âviolence.â
by the same token Dennis does not see remaking & strictly controlling & criticizing the self as âviolentâ â he sees these things through a clinical lens, with a sense of cold necessity, and even with that gentleness â itâs what needs to be done, and itâs a kindness to do it. he additionally does not truly have a âbeauty is pain/sufferingâ mindset because he perceives the control, restriction, & criticality, again, not as violence â but in this case a more neutral type of âeffort.â he believes successfully performing this âeffortâ begets the ârewardâ of beauty/perfection.
in conclusion I ultimately do not believe dtamhd serves as definite evidence that Dennis relishes in the fantasy of or materially desires violence, because in his mind it is not âviolenceâ the way we perceive it.
#dennis reynolds#dtamhd#iasip#like I saidâŠâŠâŠ this post might already exist I am definitely Aware that dtamhd sparked a lot of discussion.#also idk if this post is like. making the ideas coherent the way they are in my mind.#but uhhhhh idk I just Get A Feeling sometimes from some posts Iâve seen/from. certain content on ao3. you know how it is.#or maybe you donât idk#so I wanted to just. get this out there#anyway.#sunny
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to be honest I want to write Dante and Virgil fanfiction. Nothing good can come from this I fear
#mostly I'm just disappointed in the selection on ao3. there are maybe 3 gems#but the rest are just crack fics ._.#although credit where it's due there was a vast variety of languages so that was cool#I just wanted something that explores/expands what their relationship could have been#beginning to think I might have to find actual academic articles to get my fix.#to be clear I am not going to write anything myself. or if I do I won't post it lol
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i know this has probably been said a million times already before but it really strikes me how asexual hannibal is as a show overall now that i'm on my 4th rewatch
hannibal himself doesn't ever seem to lust after anyone in any way aside from will (and their love for each other is far from the typical amatonormative conventions society likes to impose on ppl)
we only see hannibal have sex with one person and it's only as a means to an end
hannibal clearly favors platonic connections over sexual and romantic ones, or at least shows his attraction in... very different ways than what's considered "normal", but his insistence that will is his friend despite stating multiple times that he loves him is very telling
and in the first few eps, jack asks will why the minnesota shrike would target young brunette girls. he throws out theories and suggests sexual motives, maybe? but there were no traces of semen on the body anywhere and then that's when will EXPLODES and firmly shuts the theory down by stating "no, he wouldn't disrespect her like that!"
will actually got to live the "normal" married life with a wife and a kid for 3 years but that was simply not enough. at the 1st chance he got, he freed hannibal from prison and then hopped on a boat to see him in italy
mads himself (in an interview that i forgot the origins of LOL sorry) said will and hannibal most likely would never let their relationship "become physical"
their love and connection and yearning are SO DEEP that it defies typical parameters of relationships not just bc they're gay, but bc their love transcends any need for the dog and pony show that romance and sex often demands. they literally don't even need to have sex to deepen their relationship
in hannibal's words: "the very sight of you nourishes me"
#clown horn#hannibal#horrorluv#so now the aroace is blasting the murder husbands with the aspec beam#how predictable#but these mfs never touch each other not once unless it was absolutely necessary and i'm just so đ„șđ„șđ„ș#their love is soooo deeep and yet i don't see more aspec posts abt them? no aspec fics on ao3?#just cuz will might be aromantic doesn't mean he doesn't love so deep it aches!!!#where my aspec fics at!#reading abt these two fucking and living together is nice and all i guess but i need morrree#like one where they tear a person apart with their teeth and go to bed smokin cigs like as if they just fucked#and where is the devotion!!?!??!!#girl help i'm seeing aromanticism in the most romantic-coded media to ever exist#every character that loves and aches deeply for it but doesn't kiss anyone or hold hands are aro to me đ#they just are. i'm sorry#while we're here i truly do believe hannibal could be demi. but he's not above having sex with random ppl#i mean. he's a very opportunistic guy. maybe he's demiro asexual?#and will is FORRR SUREEE aromantic i'm sorry. i don't make the rules. look at that autistic man and tell me he likes amatonormativity#exactly. he doesn't!!!
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4a357eb9a624dc791e1580b289428295/ab464b9bb39429f7-7c/s540x810/73265065649f101b9bb042cc70347066822012d4.jpg)
a spooky little Witch who is far too amused with the turmoil of a struggling young woman
#pearlescentmoon#pearlesentmoon fanart#the scarlet witch#life series#life series smp#life series au#modern au#heroes and villains#heroes and villains au#superhero au#pencil art#traditional art#my art#something wicked this way comes#double life#ish#wip#work in progress?#maybe?#might color this later#idk#vjthebluebird#stay tuned on ao3 i may post something#possibly#again idk
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i'm just. taking a break from work and thinking about the fact that it's been almost two years since the c2 finale and that campaign still has me in a chokehold. i still think about the wizards all the time, which shouldn't surprise anyone but it's still remarkable. just taking a little moment to be in my feelings about them on main, nothing to see here
#i know it's been crickets on my ao3 for a while but i am still alive#in fact i am going to share a snippet of the one shot i'm working on for wip wednesday if i can remember which day it is for long enough#things might be settling down for me maybe? i got my shit together enough last week to finally decide to go back to therapy#this is probably a subject for another post and not the tags of this one but i can't wait to feel like i'm living again#and not simply surviving#and while writing is an excellent coping mechanism i would also love to experience the joy of creation again#alright back to work with me#thanks for reading my ramblings if you made it this far#i sincerely wish you a lovely timezone
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imagine you're luce, and you're born the heir to a mafia family. you're mafia-born, and so of course also mafia-raised, and then also a donna-to-be. you're raised to be able to take on the role, to be good and capable at it, are taught to make one of your core beliefs about how the many must come before the few, because the family must always come first. you're going to be the donna, of course you must always prioritize the family above all else, it's your foremost and most important duty.
if caring about the few too comes at the price of the many, comes at the price of the family, is it even worth it? if the happiness gained from it comes at the price of a greater suffering for others, is there even any meaning to it, even if it's your happiness we're talking about? you understand, don't you?
you're not sure if you do, but you care about your family, love it, want to do right by it once you become their donna, so you nod, listen and learn.
(you don't have to be taught the pain and loss and guilt and anger and bitterness is a fair price to pay for the pain you decide has to be inflicted and the sacrifices you decide must be made, including by yourself. it's the least you could do, even.)
imagine you're luce, and the gift of foresight runs through your blood.
you would not call it a gift. you did not ask for it either. and you'll never come to see it as something wanted by you.
you can see the future, and it happened exactly as you saw it would, so of course it's exactly the way you wanted it to go. you can see the future, and it happened exactly as you saw it would, so of course you didn't care to try hard enough to change it. you saw the future before the shape of it had yet to be breathed into existence, and who's to say it didn't come into existence only because you saw it happen? you saw the future, and it happened worse than it had to for it.
you can see the future, but you still can't make it anything else than what it was always going to be. you can even make the visions happen at your will, but you still have no say on what you see or how much you see. you still can only be the witness of it before anyone else can.
it does mean double and longer the happiness sometimes, means relief and gratefulness and hope beyond words, and it'd be cruel of you to voice out loud your feelings for others to hear the many more times it means something else.
you can see the future, and it doesn't make it any kinder on you than on anyone else, does not give you any more power or control over it than anyone else, but at least you can see the future. you're given the time to make peace with it, to brace yourself for it, to bargain with it, to plead and beg and fight against it however desperately and hopelessly, even if in the end it still happens exactly as you saw it would.
(you can see the future, and it still doesn't hurt you any less than anyone else when it happens, but you don't expect anymore for anyone to hold you any less responsible for it anyway. it would be nice for someone to do it one day, but you understand.)
you can see the future, and you decide it's a kindness to both yourself and others to keep it for yourself as much as possible whenever you can.
imagine you're luce, and your family has this set of rings they've looked after and protected for as long as your family has existed. they're one set of three of the most important artifacts in the world, ones that help in safeguarding its existence and balance. they're duty, the very first one and the most important one your family was created for.
the pacifier around your mother's neck is duty too, and the most important and powerful artifact among twenty-one in safeguarding the world and its balance. it's been passed down in your family too, from mother to daughter. it's duty, but less tied to your family and much more to the blood running through your veins. it's a curse, in fact, as it demands heavy sacrifices the rings don't, and one that can only be tied to the blood running through your veins.
(your mother looks at you as if expecting some kind of reaction from you, and you can only wonder at which point you weren't supposed to see it as a given. duty and sacrifices have been one and the same for you for a long time now. is it even duty if it doesn't require any sacrifices from you?)
imagine you're luce, and your mother dies for duty. she's the donna, and so she dies for your family. she's the sky arcobaleno, and so she dies for the world. she's your mother, but she dies anyway, doesn't fight it either, even knowing she will leave you behind, even knowing she won't ever get to see what you look like all grown-up.
everywhere you look, duty stares back at you, from your mother and the pacifier around her neck, her love for your family and the life she gives up for it, her love for you and how she dies anyway while you're still only a child. duty, from your family members and how they die for you and kill for you, how they do both at your command, how their lives are in the palms of your hands and how they weigh only as much as you allow them to at a time. duty, from the knowledge your foresight gives you and the shackles tied to the blood running through your veins.
your mother's only duty while she lives too. she loves you, but she'd have had to give birth to you anyway even if she didn't. she loves you, but she still gave birth to you even knowing the kind of life you'd have to live, the kind of hands you'd inevitably end up with, the burdens she'd have to lay on your shoulders, passing them down from her own. because she loves you, she finds the resolve to raise you to be able to face all of it head-on and come out on top, but she'd have had to raise you much the same way anyway even if she didn't.
(she doesn't die for you, doesn't fight to be able to keep living with you, and this, too, is your mother surrendering to duty one last time.)
(you're so sick of it, so angry at it, so hateful and resentful against it. you're so stifled by it to the point you've stopped being able to breathe for a long time now. or you would have been if they had taught you how to face duty in this way too.
it's for the better they didn't. a silver lining, sparing you pain that isn't necessary for you to go through. everyone you turn to only teaches you how to keep holding your breath longer, and you listen and learn, obedient and dutiful as you've ever been.
you're grateful for it too. really, you are.)
everywhere you look, there's no room for you to so much as question any of it, let alone anything more. duty is commendable, something you ought to look up to and strive towards, strive to achieve. duty is the right thing to do. of course it is.
(you exhale a breath of relief that shakes you down to your very core.
thank god, it's at least the right thing to do.
you're grateful for it beyond words. really, you are.)
imagine you're luce, and before it even happens, you know the choice you'll make when climbing that mountain, when standing on top of it, when waiting for a bright light to shine down on you from above. you know the choice you'll make then, even when pregnant with your daughter.
it doesn't matter since how long you knew, be it years, months, days, hours or minutes before. all that matters is that before you can even contemplate the idea of making another choice and all its implications and possible consequences, before the thought can even come alive in your mind, you already know the choice you'll make.
(you can see the future, but just because you already saw it, it doesn't mean it's now set in stone.
you can see the future, but just because you're given the chance to fight to change it, it doesn't mean it still won't happen every bit like you saw it.
it doesn't mean it can't still happen even worse than how you first saw it happen because you fought to change it, no matter how already dreadful it originally was.)
imagine you're luce, and before it even happens, you know they'll be others with you standing on top of that mountain. you're the only one who'll know it before it happens.
(because you can see the future.
and oh, you did not ask for it.)
they're strangers, people you don't owe anything to. adults who choose to show up at the first meeting, and to show up to every following mission after that. the chosen seven, whose ambitions and prides lead them to walk the path of the seven strongest too once laid down in front of them.
you don't force their hands in making any of those choices for them. you're not responsible for any of them.
you become coworkers then, accomplices, your hands stained in blood to various extent, but now dipping in the same pool of blood as you strive towards the same goal together. you have each other's backs, learn each other's strengths and weaknesses, learn each other's personalities, likes and dislikes. you keep having to spend more time together as the missions keep coming your way.
inevitably, you come to care about them. even more damning, they come to care about you in return. enough so they'll look after your daughter even after what'll happen on top of that mountain. enough so they'll look after your granddaughter too, warmly and fondly enough she'll call one of them uncle.
you're still the only one who knows they'll stand together with you on top of that mountain, not knowing what'll happen on it like you do.
and you do care about them, you swear you do. really, you do.
(you care about them the same way your mother cared about you, and how she still raised you to have steel in you and be made of sharp edges you know how to use. you care about them the same way you care about your family, and how you still send them to their deaths as needed so the rest of your family you care about just the same can keep on living longer and safely. this is the only way you've had the chance to learn how to care and love.
duty and sacrifices have been one and the same for you for as long as you can remember. it doesn't matter at which point sacrifices came to mean love to you too.
and most of all, you love your daughter more than anything else in the world.)
imagine you're luce, and this is who you are. this is who you've been raised to be, the only way you've been given room to grow up to be. this is the life you've lived and the kind of life that has shaped you as the person you are now. this is what you've been taught and told is the best version of yourself you could have grown up to be. this is who you ended up being by what you've been taught and told are all the right choices to make.
you're still the only one who knows what is about to happen on top of that mountain. it hasn't happened yet. the fate of the world hangs on what'll happen on top of that mountain, the same world you'll have to give birth to your daughter in. the same daughter you're currently pregnant with.
now imagine you're luce, look me in the eye and tell me you'd know how to even form the thought of the possibility of there being any other choice to make. look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't look at the only choice in front of you, and know deep in your bones it's the only right choice to make. that it is right of you to make it. because it simply has to be.
(imagine you're luce, and you're not doomed by the narrative. of course, you're not.
why would you need to be when the narrative has painstakingly shaped you all your life to become its perfect, faithful and dutiful sacrificial lamb?
and then, imagine you're luce, and you're even grateful for it, so, so very grateful it held up its end of the bargain too.
truly, you are.)
#katekyo hitman reborn#khr#khr meta#khr headcanons#khr luce#khr arcobaleno#arcobaleno curse#sky arcobaleno#this post is first and foremost for the luce stans girlies#so maybe like. the whole five of us tops đ#everyone else is also welcome to interact with this post but yes i am a luce stan who's very pro she didn't ever do anything wrong ever#and i know that and i love her for it <3#but also this is not a 'this is why you should love luce too actually' post#or even a 'this is why you should forgive her for the choices she made actually' post#like i totally get how and why one can dislike/hate her. genuinely#but this is a 'you totally lose me if you then follow up by saying she still doesn't deserve understanding or compassion or sympathy or#even pity' post#i mean come on. she WAS standing on top of that mountain too. she bore the curse just the same as them. was as much a victim of it as the#rest of them. in fact the sky arco curse is arguably the WORST of them all so like. yeah#the sky arco but luce specifically to me is such a tragic character is what this post is about#definitely not enough for her to be considered as doomed by the narrative but like#the narrative was in need of (seven) someone to take one for the team and tho it did choose luce without asking for her opinion about it#/she/ then decided that the best course of action was for her to /let/ herself become perfect for the job and like???#i just love thinking about the implications of it and how she might have ended up with that kind of mentality#my girl has never been okay a day in her life and i also will never be normal about it <3#also i might also post this one on ao3 in the following days so it can reach like. maybe a whole two more luce stan girlies đ
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part 2 to the trans fips story, this time ft. zeke and rhun
Zeke starrte perplex auf deren Fund, welchen dey gerade gemacht hat, im Bad des jĂŒngsten der BrĂŒder. Warum hatte erâŠ?
Nachdem Klaus dey ĂŒber mehrere Tagen hinweg so gut wie stĂŒndlich genervt hatte, dey sollte doch bitte mal nach Fips schauen, da dieser ihm seit einiger Zeit nicht mehr auf jegliche Art geantwortet hat, hatte Zeke schlussendlich nachgegeben.
Zwar hatte dey absolut keinerlei Interesse, was denn schon wieder fĂŒr ein Streit zwischen deren BrĂŒdern abging, da es dey auch nicht wirklich etwas anging, und hatte erst versucht Klaus zu ĂŒberzeugen doch selber vorbeizuschauen, jedoch war dieser, laut eigener Aussage, zu sehr im Weihnachtsstress um sich Zeit dafĂŒr zu nehmen, und Rhun war ebenfalls zu beschĂ€ftigt, weshalb Zeke nun dazu verdonnert wurde.
Fauler Sack. So besorgt war er dann wieder auch nicht, was?
Eigentlich hĂ€tte Zeke auch nie zugestimmt, da dey normalerweise Besseres zu tun hatte, aber nach einer unnötig langen Diskussion gab dey schlieĂlich nach. Warum auch die Zeit mit Klausâ Dickköpfigkeit verschwenden? Es brachte doch eh nichts.
Genervt machte Zeke sich also spĂ€t in der Nacht auf den Weg zu dem jĂŒngsten der BrĂŒder. Wonach sollte dey ĂŒberhaupt schauen? Ob Fips noch lebt? Bock darauf, ihn auszuquetschen, warum er sich nicht meldet, hatte Zeke jetzt nicht unbedingt. War schlieĂlich auch nicht deren Angelegenheit. Dey selbst hatte sich in all den Jahren vielleicht ein oder zwei Mal bei Fips gemeldet, ihr Kontakt miteinander war schon immer etwas brĂŒchig.
Dass Klaus sich regelmĂ€Ăig bei ihm meldete, war fĂŒr Zeke keine wirklich groĂe Ăberraschung. Immerhin bekam dey selbst öfters Nachrichten von den Ălteren. Und, ganz ehrlich, wenn Fips einfach aus Genervtheit nicht mehr antwortete, hĂ€tte Zeke ihn auch gut verstehen können.
Als dey bei Fips ankamen, lag dieser schon im Bett am Schlafen. Wenig verwunderlich, da es schon extrem spĂ€t in der Nacht war. Zeke beobachtete ihn eine kurze Zeit lang beim Schlafen, fragte sich erneut wonach dey ĂŒberhaupt suchte, bevor dey mit den Schultern zuckte und den Raum verlieĂ.
Jep. Lebt noch. Job erledigt.
Da Zeke ohnehin den langen Weg schon fĂŒr sinnlos fand, dachte dey sich, dey könnte sich zumindest noch etwas zu essen mitnehmen. Jetzt, wo Zeke schon hier war. Damit es sich zumindest etwas lohnen wĂŒrde.
Zu deren EnttĂ€uschung, jedoch nicht Ăberraschung, war der GroĂteil, den dey fand einfach nur Karotten. Karotten und Instant Ramen. Was auch sonst? Wenig begeistert von den ganzen Möhren, begann Zeke die Regale nach etwas brauchbarem zu durchsuchen, passte dabei jedoch nicht ganz auf wo dey hingriff und lieĂ versehentlich ein paar Eier auf den KĂŒchenboden fallen. ScheiĂe.
Das war jetzt nicht so geplant.
Fips hatte einiges an Chaos in seinem Haus, zumindest in letzter Zeit, da er noch nie unbedingt Meister der Ordnung war, und Zeke bezweifelte, es wĂŒrde groĂ auffallen, wenn dey einfach wieder gegangen wĂ€ren, jedoch wollte dey mal kein komplett rĂŒcksichtsloser Idiot sein. Zudem war es ja deren eigener MĂŒll, und wenigsten den könnte Zeke schon wegrĂ€umen. Ausnahmsweise.
Also sah dey sich um, diesmal auf der Suche nach TĂŒchern zum aufwischen, doch etwas wie eine KĂŒchenrolle fand dey nicht. Leicht genervt ging Zeke ins Bad, um dort die Suche nach PapiertĂŒchern fortzusetzen. Doch erneut, Fehlanzeige.
Hatte der Typ denn ernsthaft nichts da? Kann doch nicht sein.
Auf die Idee, einfach Toilettenpapier zu nutzen, kam Zeke in dem Moment nicht, weshalb dey begann, jegliche Schubladen im Bad zu öffnen. Wirklich viel war in ihnen nicht, und der meiste Krimskrams weckte auch kein groĂes Interesse in deren. An einem anderen Tag hĂ€tte Zeke vielleicht aus Neugier sich alles genauer angeschaut, um möglicherweise etwas zum drĂŒber lustig machen zu finden. Aber momentan war Zeke nur danach, einfach wieder zu verschwinden.
Eine Sache weckte jedoch schlussendlich doch deren Aufmerksamkeit. In einer der untersten Schubladen war nĂ€mlich im Grunde genommen nichts, auĂer einer Sache. VerbĂ€nde. Und zwar einige.
Was? WofĂŒr zum Teufel wĂŒrde Fips denn VerbĂ€nde brauchen? Geschweige denn, gleich so viele?
Wenn er sich irgendwie verletzt, konnte er sich doch wieder heilen? Komisch.
Sollte dey aber erstmal nicht weiter kĂŒmmern. War, immernoch, nicht deren Angelegenheit, weshalb Zeke extrem froh war, endlich TaschentĂŒcher zu finden, die Eier vom Boden zu wischen und abzuhauen.
----
Im Nachhinein schienen die ganzen VerbÀnde Zeke doch etwas mehr zu verunsichern, als dey gerne zugegeben hÀtte. Denn gerade mal am nÀchsten Tag fing dey erneut an, den Sinn dieser zu hinterfragen.
Waren sie nur aus Prinzip da? Als VorsichtsmaĂnahme? Falls doch mal etwas passieren sollte?
Aber warum dann gleich so viele, als wĂŒrde Fips sie regelrecht lagern. Als wĂŒrde er sie regelmĂ€Ăig brauchen und benutzen. Aber wofĂŒr?
Hatte er Verletzungen? Woher denn? Dey bezweifelte, dass es etwas in Fipsâ Leben gab, von dem dieser lang anhaltende Verletzungen davontrug. Noch mal, wenn er verletzt war, konnte er sich doch selbst heilen.
NatĂŒrlich machte Zeke sich keine Sorgen oder so. Warum sollte dey auch? Vorallem nicht um Fips. Als ob. Und selbst wenn, was natĂŒrlich niemals der Fall sein wird, wĂŒrde Zeke es nicht laut aussprechen.
Dass dey in der darauffolgenden Woche ab und zu nachts vorbeikam, war selbstverstÀndlich ebenfalls rein zufÀllig. Nur um sicherzugehen, dass Fips gescheit schlÀft, und um deren Job zu erledigen. Reine Routine. Nicht um nach offensichtlichen, potenziellen Verletzungen oder Wunden zu schauen, die Fips möglicherweise haben könnte.
Welche er ĂŒbrigens nicht hatte. Und das, obwohl der Verband trotzdem von Besuch zu Besuch weniger zu werden schien.
Was Zeke natĂŒrlich auch nur rein zufĂ€llig aufgefallen ist. Und nicht, weil dey jedes mal absichtlich nachsah. Das wĂ€re ja absurd. Warum sollte es dey auch interessieren? Sorgen machte sich Zeke sicher nicht. Mm. Absolut nicht.
Das dey wenige Tage spÀter Rhun einen Besuch abstatteten hatte ebenfalls nichts damit zu tun. Zeke wollte einfach nur mal wieder mit xier plaudern, wie es denn so bei Rhun lÀuft und wie es xier geht und so. Dass Fips dabei als Thema aufkam war zwar wirklich nicht geplant gewesen, doch lehnte Zeke es auch nicht ab.
Neben den ĂŒblichen kleinen Sticheleien und Witzen, erwĂ€hnte dey ganz nebenbei etwas ĂŒber die VerbĂ€nde die dey gefunden hatte, was von Rhun jedoch nicht ganz so lĂ€ssig abgewunken wurde.
âBandagen? FĂŒr welchen Zweck denn?â
Zeke zuckte nur mit den Schultern.
âSeh ich aus, als hĂ€tte ich âne Ahnung? Was weiĂ ich denn, was der Hase wieder anstellt.â
Rhun rollte mit den Augen und schwieg fĂŒr einen Moment, doch an xiers Gesichtsausdruck konnte Zeke erkennen, dass xier gerade ungefĂ€hr hundert mögliche Antworten durchging.
âHat er irgendwelche Verletzungen?â fragte Minty plötzlich, und erst dann realisierten die beiden BrĂŒder, dass sie scheinbar schon lĂ€nger bei ihnen stand und mitgehört hat. Rhun starrte sie kurz grimmig an, als wollte xier ihr mitteilen, dass sie sich nicht einmischen sollte, schĂŒttelte danach aber leicht den Kopf.
Minty lieĂ sich nicht von dem Blick abschrecken, sondern blieb weiter standhaft neben den beiden WĂ€chtern stehen und ĂŒberlegte wohl ebenfalls.
âIst er trans?â
Zeke und Rhun tauschten beide sofort einen raschen, verwirrten Blick aus.
Ja, war er. Aber Minty konnte nichts davon wissen. Woher denn? Es war eins der Themen, die so gut wie nie thematisiert wurden, geschweige denn, vor anderen Leuten. Und die paar Male, die Fips sie getroffen hat, war es unwahrscheinlich, dass sie es von ihm weiĂ. Fips hatte es noch nie jemandem von sich aus erzĂ€hlt, auĂer seinen BrĂŒdern. Damals, im Kloster noch.
Und vorallem, warum spricht sie das ausgerechnet jetzt an? WeiĂ sie etwas darĂŒber? Hatte sie eine Vermutung?
âWarum fragst du?â hakte Rhun nach und blickte sie an mit reiner KuriositĂ€t und Neugier, allerdings auch mit leichtem Zögern. Misstrauen schon fast.
âNaja, viele TransmĂ€nner benutzen VerbĂ€nde, um sie sich um die Brust zu wickeln. Damit diese flach wirkt. Ist aber extrem gefĂ€hrlich,â erklĂ€rte Minty, ignorierte Rhuns Augen die sie immer noch durchbohrten und entweder tat sie nur so als bemerkte sie die Reaktionen der anderen nicht, oder sie bekam die ernsthafte Verwirrung wirklich nicht mit.
âWas weiĂt du darĂŒber?â fragte Rhun erneut, diesmal schon etwas drĂ€ngender. Als hĂ€tte das Wort âgefĂ€hrlichâ etwas in xier ausgelöst, eine ganz neue Stufe der Neugier, allerdings war auch kaum merklich Sorge in xiers Blick. Zumindest soweit Zeke es beurteilen konnte.
Minty wirkte ein wenig perplex, woher denn dieses plötzliche Interesse von der Zahnfee kam, gab ihre Antwort jedoch relativ schnell. âĂh, also, wenn die VerbĂ€nde zu eng sind, können sie einem das Atem erschweren oder sogar blockieren. Und die Haut an sich wird anfĂ€lliger fĂŒr blaue Flecken oder Infektionen im schlimmsten Fall. AuĂerdem kann es sein, dass-â
Zu diesem Zeitpunkt hörte Zeke ihr schon nicht mehr zu. Dieses rĂŒcksichtslose Verhalten klang extrem nach Fips. Einfach zu handeln, ohne sich groĂ Gedanken ĂŒber die Konsequenzen zu machen. Typisch.
Und obwohl Zeke gerne so getan hĂ€tte, als wĂ€re es dey egal und einfach das Thema zu wechseln, konnte dey nicht leugnen, dass irgendein merkwĂŒrdiges GefĂŒhl in deren aufkam. Warum wĂŒrde Fips so etwas machen? Dass er hĂ€ufiger unĂŒberlegte und spontane Entscheidungen traf, die im Nachhinein extrem rĂŒcksichtslos waren, war nichts Neues.
Aber das war nicht unĂŒberlegt. Wenn man den regelrechten Vorrat an VerbĂ€nden bedenkt, könnte man meinen, dass Fips das geplant haben muss, dass er das voll und ganz absichtlich tat.
Aber wieso? Warum wĂŒrde er denn freiwillig seinen Körper so beschĂ€digen? Und das auch noch wissentlich?
Zeke schĂŒttelte den Kopf. Sollte Gedanken wollte dey gar nicht haben. Sollte Fips doch machen, was er will. Wird schon sehen, was er davon hat. Rhun schien ebenfalls in Gedanken versunken zu sein, da xier mehrfach von Minty gerufen werden musste, um auf sie zu reagieren.
âZahnfee? Alles okay bei dir?â
Xier starrte sie fĂŒr wenige Augenblicke wieder intensiv an, bevor Minty aufgefordert wurde, sich wieder um ihre Aufgaben zu kĂŒmmern, wobei sie natĂŒrlich schnell gehorchte und verschwand. Sobald sie wieder allein standen, beziehungsweise saĂen in Zekes Fall, murmelte Rhun, âIch muss mit ihm sprechen.â
Obwohl Zeke sich relativ sicher war, dass xier mehr mit sich selbst geredet hat, antwortete dey trotzdem. âAch was. Um den Hasen musste dir doch keine Sorgen machen. Wer sagt denn, dass das was deine Helferin gesagt hat, ĂŒberhaupt eintrifft?â
âOb es der Fall ist oder nicht, die Möglichkeit besteht dennoch. Und wenn da wirklich etwas dran ist, bedeutet das nichts Gutes.â
Zeke rollte nur mit den Augen und lieĂ sich etwas weiter im Sessel zurĂŒcklehnen, was von deren Bruder mit einem weiteren, grimmigen Blick kommentiert wurde.
âSelbst wenn, der kann sich doch selbst heilen. Wo ist das Problem?â
âDas Problem, mein lieber Bruder, ist warum Fips das ĂŒberhaupt macht. Es muss ja einen Grund geben. Nicht mal er ist so rĂŒcksichtslos.â
Den Witz der Zeke auf der Zunge lag, dass er vielleicht heimlich Masochist geworden ist, brachte dey lieber nicht. Einen Streit mit Rhun wollte dey jetzt nicht unbedingt erreichen.
âUgh⊠Okayyyy. Was hast du vor?â
----
Als Fips aufwachte mitten in der Nacht, war es um ihn herum noch dunkel, bis auf das leichte Mondlicht, das durch eins der Fenster schien. Warum genau war er aufgewacht? Ausgeschlafen war er sicher nicht, da er sich vor gerade mal zwei oder drei Stunden hingelegt hatte. Es war auch nicht so, als hÀtte er einen Alptraum gehabt, der ihn vom Schlafen abhielt.
Es fĂŒhlte sich an, als hĂ€tte ihn etwas, oder jemand, absichtlich aus dem Schlaf gerissen.
Zwar wollte Fips einfach nur sich umdrehen und weiterschlafen, doch als er leise GerÀusche, die wie Schritte klangen, knapp neben ihm hörte, öffnete er vorsichtig die Augen. Es war gerade so hell, dass seine Augen sich so gut wie direkt an die Helligkeit gewöhnten.
Das Erste was er sah, war das Gesicht eines seiner BrĂŒder.
Zeke?!
âWas zum Fick?!â
Fips rutschte schnell weg von deren, und wÀre Zeke nicht von sich aus direkt weg gesprungen, hÀtte Fips dey wahrscheinlich aus Reflex geschlagen.
âDir auch guten Morgen,â meinte Zeke gelassen, wartete nicht einmal auf die Reaktion des Anderen bevor dey die TĂŒrklinke unterdrĂŒckte um die TĂŒr zu öffnen.
âWas zum Teufel machst du hier?!â schrie Fips ihn fast an, immer noch verdattert und verwirrt. Seine Frage wurde gekonnt ignoriert, als Zeke sich schon bereit machte zu gehen. âBin nur der Weck-Service. Viel SpaĂ euch,â antwortete dey, wobei der letzte Satz wohl an jemanden gerichtet war, der sich noch auĂerhalb von Fips' Sichtfeld befand.
Bevor er etwas erwidern konnte, war Zeke bereits verschwunden, und um die ganze Situation noch komischer zu machen, tauchte Rhun an deren Stelle auf.
âUnd was machst du jetzt hier? Wollt ihr mich verarschen?â Langsam wurde Fips genervt. War das alles ein Traum? Schlief er noch? Was wollten die beiden denn jetzt von ihm? Dass Klaus ab und zu mal vorbeikam, ohne jeglichen Grund oder AnkĂŒndigung, war er schon gewohnt. Aber die zwei? Die meldeten sich doch sonst nie bei ihm.
âAuch schön dich wieder zu sehen,â sagte Rhun in kompletter Gelassenheit, und stellte sich neben das Bett, um den Anderen besser betrachten zu können.
Fips rollte nur mit den Augen. âWenn das irgend âne blöde Verarsche sein soll, hab ich da jetzt echt keinen Bock drauf.â
âKeine Verarsche. Keine Tricks. Ich wollte mit dir reden,â stellte Rhun fest, und bevor Fips widersprechen konnte holte xier etwas hinter xiers RĂŒcken hervor. VerbĂ€nde.
Wo zum Teufel hatte xier die her?? War xier seine Sachen durchgegangen? Was wollte xier damit? Oh fuck. Hatte Rhun etwas mitbekommen? Bitte nicht. Xier konnte doch eh nicht wissen, wofĂŒr er sie brauchte. Dann wiederum, was sollte er xier denn sagen? Wenn Rhun den Vorrat gesehen hat, wird xier ihm definitiv Fragen stellen. Oh Gott, nein.
Auch wenn Fips nichts sagte, um sein Erstaunen und seine Ăberraschung so gut es geht zu verbergen, konnte Rhun trotzdem die Bedeutung seiner geweiteten Augen deuten. Etwas so gut fĂŒr seinen Geschmack. Rhun gab ihm einige Momente, um selbst ein GesprĂ€ch anzufangen oder eine ErklĂ€rung abzuliefern, an welchen Fips jedoch offensichtlich kein Interesse hatte.
âWofĂŒr brauchst du die Bandagen?â fragte xier ruhig.
Fips gab seinem BrĂŒder die erste Antwort die ihm einfiel, die auch einigermaĂen logisch klang. âWofĂŒr braucht man denn Bandagen? Schon mal was von Schnitten oder Prellungen gehört?â
âAusgerechnet du brauchst doch dafĂŒr keine VerbĂ€nde. Und wir wissen beide, dass du lieber Wunden durch Magie heilst, statt sie natĂŒrlich verheilen zu lassen.â
Shit. Hatte xier recht.
âJa und? Ne Notation kann nie schaden,â versuchte Fips abzuwinken. Leider ohne groĂen Erfolg.
âIch bezweifle, dass ein halbes Dutzend an Verbandsrollen als âNotrationâ zĂ€hlt.â Rhun hob leicht eine Augenbraue, wechselte aber schnell zurĂŒck zu einem neutralen Gesichtsausdruck. Fips beruhigen tat dies allerdings nicht.
âWarum juckt dich das ĂŒberhaupt? KĂŒmmer dich doch um deinen eigenen Kram,â kam von ihm zurĂŒck und er verschrĂ€nkte die Arme, seinen Kopf lehnte er an die Wand hinter sich.
âFips, ich frage dich das nicht, um dich zu Ă€rgern. Ich möchte nur sichergehen, dass du keinen Mist anstellst. Sag mir bitte, warum du diese Bandagen brauchst.â
âGeht dich ân ScheiĂdreck an.â
Rhun starrte ihn nur böse an, was als Reaktion mehr als reichte.
FĂŒr eine Weile weigerte Fips sich zu antworten und saĂ nur stillschweigend da. Warum zum Teufel mussten seine BrĂŒder ihn um diese Uhrzeit schon auf die Nerven gehen. Basierend auf Rhuns erwartungsvollen Blick, wusste xier doch eh schon, was xier hören wollte. Warum sollte Fips es dann noch aussprechen? Als wollte xier ihn folternâŠ
âAus⊠privaten GrĂŒnden,â murmelte er irgendwann, und seine Augen wandte sich ab von Rhun, nicht mehr fĂ€hig xiers Blicks standzuhalten. Und erneut ein Zeichen, wie schwach er doch eigentlich war. Hatte er denn vor ĂŒberhaupt irgendwas keine Angst?!
âHaben diese âprivaten GrĂŒndeâ rein zufĂ€llig etwas mit dem Abflachen deiner Brust zu tun?â fragte xier nach und Fips hĂ€tte xier gerne geschlagen. Warum fragte Rhun ihn ĂŒberhaupt?
âWenn du's eh schon weiĂt, frag doch nicht nach.â
âIch möchte deine BestĂ€tigung hören, um keine unnötigen Vermutungen aufzustellen.â
Mit zusammen gebissenen ZĂ€hnen und eng gekreuzten Armen gab Fips eventuell nach. Wenn auch extrem widerwillig und nicht im gewĂŒnschten Wortlaut.
âUnd wenn's so wĂ€re? Warum interessiert's dich?â
Rhuns Blick wurde sofort sanfter, und hÀtte Fips hingeschaut, hÀtte er möglicherweise sogar Anzeichen von Sorge erkannt.
âWarum sollte es mich nicht interessieren? Du bist immer noch mein Bruder und ich möchte nicht, dass du dich selbst diesen Schmerzen unterziehst,â fing xier an zu erklĂ€ren.
âMir geht's gut, keine Sorge,â wies Fips xier schroff zurĂŒck und warf endlich mal die Decke von seinem Körper, da es langsam warm wurde. Ob wegen der Temperatur oder aus in ihm brennender Scham, konnte er nicht definieren.
Rhun setzte sich langsam ans Ende seines Bettes, um Fips genĂŒgend Platz zu lassen und ihm trotzdem vorsichtig nĂ€her zu kommen. âHat dir schon mal jemand gesagt, dass du kein guter LĂŒgner bist?â
Normalerweise hĂ€tte der leicht amĂŒsierte Ton seines Bruders Fips ebenfalls zum Schmunzeln gebracht, aber in dem Moment war ihm einfach nicht danach. Er wollte ĂŒber dieses Thema nicht reden. Weder mit Rhun, noch mit irgendwem anders. Und der Fakt, dass Rhun auch noch so interessiert tat, machte es nicht besser. Die hatten sich doch noch nie fĂŒr ihn groĂ interessiert, warum jetzt auf einmal?
âMusst nicht einen auf möchtegern besorgt machen, mir geht's wirklich okay.â
Doch Rhun blieb standhaft, und je lĂ€nger xier ihn so intensiv ansah, desto mehr kam Fips das GefĂŒhl, dass Rhuns Sorge möglicherweise doch echt sein könnte.
âGeht es dir wirklich gut? Wenn alles in Ordnung wĂ€re, wĂŒrdest du nicht willentlich leiden,â stellte Rhun fest, und setzte xiers ErklĂ€rung fort, nachdem Fipsâ Gesichtsausdruck leicht verwirrt wurde. âDeinen Rippen und Lungen geht es sicherlich nicht gut, mit wie viel Druck du auf sie ausĂŒbst.â
âMir passiert schon nichts, ich trag schon keine heftigen SchĂ€den davon.â
âDass du dich selber heilen kannst, weiĂ ich. Was ich nicht weiĂ ist, warum du dass ĂŒberhaupt machst.â
Fips rollte erneut mit den Augen, der Drang, sich diesem GesprÀch zu entziehen, hatte ihn nicht verlassen, war aber nicht mehr ganz so prÀsent. Seine PrioritÀt war gerade, Rhun abzuwimmeln, um seine Ruhe zu bekommen.
âWas glaubst du, warum ich als Mann meine BrĂŒste verdecken will?" fragte er nach, eine Spur Ironie in seiner Stimme, als wĂ€re die Beantwortung dieser Frage so oder so unnötig und offensichtlich.
âDeswegen musst du dich allerdings nicht rund um die Uhr mit diesen schĂ€dlichen Methoden quĂ€len. Zu lange die VerbĂ€nde zu tragen ist extrem schĂ€dlich, auĂerdem gibt es ohnehin bessere Optionen.â
Fips traute seiner Stimme nicht, nicht zu brechen, weshalb er erneut nur schwieg. Aus welchem Grund auch immer, schien der Gedanke an seinen Körper allein, ihm schon zuschaffen zu machen. War ja klar, dass Rhun da keinerlei MitgefĂŒhl oder Empathie hat.
VerhĂ€tschelt oder bemitleidet zu werden, wollte Fips erst recht nicht, aber diese komplette Emotionslosigkeit und Ignoranz fĂŒhlte sich einfach nur nach Abweisung an. Als wĂ€re es xier scheiĂegal. Dass xier mehr auf Logik als auf GefĂŒhle fokussiert war, war ihm ja bekannt. SchlieĂlich war das schon immer so. Und dennoch wirkte es in diesem Moment besonders kalt.
Entweder das, oder Fips selbst war zu emotional. Konnte natĂŒrlich auch gut möglich sein. Ein weiterer Aspekt, den Fips an sich nicht leiden konnte, war, dass er seine GefĂŒhle oft nicht so unter Kontrolle hatte, wie er es gerne hĂ€tte. Aber auch dafĂŒr schien er zu schwach zu sein. Konnte er denn irgendwas?
Und obwohl er jegliche Andeutungen von TrÀnen direkt weg geblinzelt hat, in dem Moment, in dem seine Augen anfingen zu brennen, schien Rhun doch irgendwie etwas bemerkt zu haben. Xiers Stimme wurde sanfter als zuvor, fast vorsichtig.
âFips, wenn dir das so zu schaffen macht, hĂ€ttest du uns Bescheid sagen sollen.â
âWieso? Damit ihr euch drĂŒber lustig machen könnt? Ne danke,â blaffte er xier angespannt an.
âDas hĂ€tten wir nicht getan. Nicht bei so einem ernsten Thema.â
NatĂŒrlich wusste Rhun auch, dass dieses Gerede eher Wunschdenken als der RealitĂ€t entsprach, da Zeke sich herzlich wenig kĂŒmmerte, wann Witze und Kommentare angebracht sind und wann nicht. Allerdings wusste Rhun auch, dass es zumindest von xiers Seite aus, ein ehrliches GestĂ€ndnis war.
Nach ein paar weiteren Minuten, die in drĂŒckender Stille vergingen, forderte Rhun xiers jĂŒngsten Bruder auf, âKomm. Nimm bitte die VerbĂ€nde ab.â
âWieso sollte ich?â kam von Fips zurĂŒck.
âDeine Rippen haben eine Pause verdient. Und wenn du sie nicht abnimmst, nehm ich sie dir eigenhĂ€ndig ab.â
Allein, dass Rhun ihm diese âDrohungâ machte, zeigte, dass xier es ernst meinte. Und xier wĂŒrde nicht davor zurĂŒckscheuen, die eben genannten Worten in die Tat umzusetzen, so viel war sicher.
Fips seufzte, gab sich aber geschlagen. Ăberraschend schnell, fĂŒr seine VerhĂ€ltnisse. Auf einen Streit hatte er keine Lust. DafĂŒr war er dann doch noch zu mĂŒde.
â...Guck weg,â murmelte er nur, achtete genau darauf, dass Rhun auch ja wegsah, bevor er sich die VerbĂ€nde langsam abnahm. Und Rhun hatte Recht, sein Brustkorb fĂŒhlte sich tatsĂ€chlich direkt besser an. Kam wohl davon, diesen unzĂ€hlige Jahre am StĂŒck durchgehend viel zu eng zusammen zu schnĂŒren.
Rhun war mindestens genauso perplex wie Fips selbst, ĂŒber die Geschwindigkeit seines EinverstĂ€ndnisses, war aber respektvoll und schaute mit nach unten gerichtetem Blick auf xiers eigene Schuhe, bis keinerlei Bewegung mehr von Fips bemerkbar war.
Und tatsÀchlich hatte er den Verband abgenommen. Der lag nÀmlich nun vor ihm auf der Decke und wurde mit Verachtung von ihm angestarrt. Wenn Blicke töten könnten, wÀre der jetzt definitiv tot, obwohl es nur ein Gegenstand war. Fips Blick hÀtte alles und jeden umgebracht, so sicher war Rhun sich.
Bevor Fips auf dumme Ideen kommen konnte, nahm xier die Bandagen schnell an sich und stopfte sie in eine von xiers Taschen.
âBesser?â
âMh.â
Körperlich war es eine Art Erleichterung, klar. Allein seine Atemwege waren freier und er konnte sich auch um einiges leichter bewegen. Aber gleichzeitig spĂŒrte Fips jetzt auch wieder dieses Ă€tzende Gewicht an seiner Brust, das er seit Jahrhunderten verabscheut.
Rhun meinte es nur gut, und das wusste er auch. Aber das hieĂ nicht, dass er sich nicht unwohl fĂŒhlte. In seinen Augen wirkte seine Brust so viel bemerkbarer und Fips hĂ€tte sich am liebsten unter der Decke versteckt, um nicht von irgendwem gesehen zu werden.
âFalls es dich glĂŒcklich macht, in meinen Augen wirst du immer mein Bruder sein. Egal wie du aussiehst,â versuchte Rhun ihn aufzumuntern. Und dieses Mal schien es zu wirken, denn irgendwie schafften es diese Worte, ein LĂ€cheln auf Fipsâ Lippen zu bringen. Mehr als das Wort âDankeâ stumm zu formen, brachte sein Mund allerdings nicht heraus.
âTrotzdem bitte ich dich, mehr RĂŒcksicht auf deinen Körper zu nehmen. Diese VerbĂ€nde sind sowieso schĂ€dlich, den ganzen Tag damit herumzulaufen ist keine gute Idee. Wenn du reden willst, kannst du immer zu mir kommen. Wenn ich aber nochmal mitbekomme, dass du diese Dinger nicht rechtzeitig abnimmst, sorg ich persönlich dafĂŒr, dass du's bereust. Oder ich hetze Klaus auf dich.â
Kurzzeitig war Fips davon ĂŒberzeugt gewesen, wenn Rhun und Zeke schon da sind, wĂ€re Klaus auch keine Ăberraschung mehr. Allerdings war er nicht da, was Fips daraufhin deutete, dass ihm ĂŒberhaupt nicht Bescheid gesagt wurde. Wahrscheinlich wollte Rhun in Ruhe mit ihm sprechen, und Klaus war jetzt nicht unbedingt die Ruhe in Person.
âIch pass schon auf,â antwortete Fips, und obwohl seine Stimmlage nach wie vor leicht genervt klang, verriet seine Körpersprache, dass er nicht mehr ernsthaft genervt war. Nur, dass er dieses GesprĂ€ch ungern weiterfĂŒhren wollte, was Rhun jedoch einigermaĂen verstehen konnte.
----
Als Zeke deren irgendwann zu ihnen ins Schlafzimmer gesellt und prompt auf Fipsâ Bett fallen gelassen hatte, legte dey einen Arm um Fipsâ Schultern um ihn zu deren zu ziehen und ihm grob die Haare zu verwuscheln. Zwar waren deren Handlungen nicht gerade sanft, aber ausnahmsweise auch mal nicht von Hass oder Sticheleien getrieben.
âNa, kleiner Bruder?â
Fips versuchte relativ schnell sich aus Zekes Griff zu befreien, welcher ihn aber nicht loslieà und einfach nÀher zog.
âWas fĂŒr âkleinerâ? Ich bin gröĂer als du,â gab er dey als Antwort.
âJa und? Ich bin Ă€lter.â
Zeke war schon immer stolz gewesen, diese paar Minuten Ă€lter zu sein als Fips. Somit war dey nĂ€mlich nicht ganz der JĂŒngste. Der kleinste von allen fĂŒnf war dey trotzdem.
âNe NervensĂ€ge, das bist du.â
âTja. Immerhin bin ich der Einzige von uns, der eine Frau hat.â
âWie viel du der gezahlt hast, das die bei dir bleibt, ist mir immer noch rĂ€tselhaftâŠâ
Als er das halb beleidigte Gesicht seines Bruders sah, konnte Fips nicht anders, als zu grinsen.
âHey!â
#jcu#wÀchter#osterhase (jcu)#osterhase#fips#sandmann (jcu)#sandmann#zeke#zahnfee (jcu)#zahnfee#rhun#minty#(yes she's there too !)#sorry for the lack of klaus in this#i wanted to add him but considering i was already at around 3k words and wanted to finally finish this i couldnt really find a way to inclu#de him#sorry klaus#</33#(ended up being 4k words btw)#maybe i could write more trans fips stuff and give him a proper role in the next one ??#in case you guys are interested ??#requests/ideas are still welcomed#(even if i might not write them immediately bc i'm lazy)#poor fips#but also#at least he gets some kind of comfort in this#also posted on ao3 btw !
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You may regret this @phoenixcatch7 lol, what if I start spamming you /j
Less cryptid Batman in this particular WIP since it's semi-outsider pov lol (one of two outside person not unnerved by them lol)
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   Clark knew Batman wasnât human, even before that disaster of a mission where he had let it slip to the others.Â
   Heâd known for a long time, from one of their early meetups, when Batman had first referred to him as Clark Kent instead of Kal-El, and he had panicked. He hadnât ever lied to his teammates when he said that the cloak prevented him from seeing his body, but his ears still worked.Â
   Heâd tried to listen to a heartbeat, to see if his at the time temporary ally was lying when he stated he wasnât going to tell anyone and⊠Nothing. There was no heartbeat, no breathing, nothing even remotely human, and if he didnât know any better, nothing even remotely alive about the silence.Â
   He couldnât help but to pay attention more, to seek out the strange almost silence-feeling that accompanied the Gotham vigilante each time he felt it. It was⊠almost comforting, like the swaying of branches and the rustling of cloth over stone. Familiar, compared to the hustle and bustle surrounding him in the city.Â
   The first thing he had noticed, physically that is, was Batmanâs ears. Previously heâd thought the man unemotional, what with the rough voice, expressionless white eyes, cloak-covered body and the gas mask covering a good chunk of his face.Â
   Yet the longer he watched, even idly, the more he noticed that while the manâs face or body didnât show much, his ears did.Â
   While Batman could stay silent and still for hours, the long ears twitched and swiveled, catching on the hood that heâd always wear around them. Theyâd pin back sometimes, a near silent sound he couldnât quite place accompanying the movement, while other times theyâd twist a near full three-sixty, as though searching for whatever sound it had caught.Â
   Sometimes, when heâd startled the other vigilante, thereâd be rattling noise, like wood and metal clacking together before it was cut off. It was a strange sound, one heâd not heard anywhere else, except with his⊠friend.Â
   Were they friends? Heâd like to think so.Â
   The next time he was reminded that his friend wasnât human was when he saw him get injured. It hadnât been a bad injury, even if the Gothamiteâs head had hit the wall with a very loud cracking noise, but heâd still smelled what heâd eventually come to recognize as blood. There was an almost pickle-like scent to it though that wasnât quite it either.Â
   Honestly the closest he could think of describing it was some sort of formaldehyde. And once he focused, he could pick out other things beneath it. Maybe not flesh and blood in the traditional sense, but still.Â
   There was always that scent of cloth and wood, but he could smell the black liquid, paint, a metallic thing underneath like iron and steel. No heartbeat, no breath, but life all the same. It was honestly beautiful in a way, like a part of the city the other vigilante called home had come to life.Â
   And it wasnât like Batman minded whenever his own human mask slipped. Clark may have been raised by his Ma and Pa, whom he loved, but it didnât make his body any more human in nature. There were just some things that he couldnât change, and it took effort to move like one all day as a civilian when his body wasnât designed to do so.
   So he stayed quiet for the most part when their group of three grew, and people started to speculate. He diverted the conversations whenever it turned to him, lightly admonishing over the various rumors.Â
   It didnât matter if Batman wasnât human, he was still his friend, their ally and teammate. Was he curious? Oh of course, heâd gone into journalism for a reason after all, but it was still his friend. If he wanted to tell, heâd tell, and Clark wouldnât break his trust.Â
#possessed doll au#possessed puppet au#This is pretty much the start of the doll reveal I did art for from Clark's and Diana's pov lol#batman au#cryptid batman#clark kent#superman#writing wip#Bruce when Clark first bends an arm in a way a human can't: I shall take note of this to see if I can do this later#Clark: Wow I have a friend who doesn't mind me doing weird things yay!#I like to think that the dolls start getting black veins through the wood like a mimicry of human arteries the longer they're in use#It's a symbiotic relationship that starts semi parasitic but turns mutually beneficial as the bond grows stronger#Diana who is made of clay probably also has a bit of a reveal to her teammates at some point I just realized#Maybe add my kintsugi headcanon for amazons in this oneshot lol#Might post the finished oneshot in AO3 if you'd be fine with it#Absolutely love this AU so much <3<3<3#Bruce is unaware of how expressive his ears are when he doesn't have them tucked down to not hit them on ceilings lol#Clark isn't aware that half the time Bruce is not listening for sounds but listening to comms and for vibrations#Pfft oh I can't wait for Constantine or another magic user meets the batclan for the first time#Just chanting âwhat the fuckâ over and over because *wtf is up with that*#It's like a wooden homunculus thing mixed with a sacrifice and willing possession and so much that *Should Not* be a single creature#How many tags until Tumblr has the munchies and eats them#random thing but wasn't there one series of games or comics or whatever where the batfam had a robotic dog or two#I am *just saying*-#Clark: He don't bite#Batman hunched over like some sort of predator about to pounce with spikes out and rattling/clattering angrily:#Goons & Future JL members: YES HE DO#batman#bruce wayne#dc
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