#plutonium wipw

[agentplutonium]

WIP Wednesday

I got tagged by @romirola *checks notes* over a month ago, but never late then never, right! ,,, right?

ANYWAY I’ve been very slow on some of my writing recently (burn out from school is a BITCH) but here’s a small snippet of a Milo/Sweetheart fight fic and mayhaps a little snippet of original work I’ve been chipping away at:

(No pressure) tags to: @pinksparkl @zozo-01 @angelicaether @lovelylonerliterature and anyone else who wants to join! I’m really bad at tagging people ngl

I was really captivated by the idea of Sweetheart snapping at Milo for constantly bashing their job, no matter how correct he is, so I ran with it. Here’s the beginning of that:

It was always a strain on their relationship. Milo knew that. He just didn’t think it could ever come to this.

Sweetheart came home with a limp. A limp that was not there when they left, and one that was certainly unwelcome in their typically confident gait. Milo was onto it immediately.

“What’s wrong, Sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” they said hurriedly. “Fell at work today.”

“You didn’t get it checked out?” Milo asked.

“It’s nothing, Milo. I’ll be fine in the morning.”

Milo paused what he was doing, turning to look at Sweetheart fully. They weren’t facing him, set on emptying and putting their things away. They never took that tone with him, and it concerned Milo. Did he do something? Were they mad at him?

“Are you okay?” Milo asked, standing.

“I told you I’m fine!” Sweetheart snapped. “Stop looking into it.”

“Okay,” Milo said, tone hardening, “you don’t get to talk to me like that when I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”

Sweetheart let their bag slump to the ground, taking a deep breath. When they turned to face him, their eyes were closed. They opened them a moment later, saying, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve just had a hard day at work. That’s all.”

Milo eyebrows furrowed, one corner of his mouth turning down. “Do you need anything? I can—“

“No,” Sweetheart said quickly. They realised how that came off and back tracked, “no, Love, I just want to go lay down for a bit. Is that alright?”

“Of course that’s all right,” Milo said. “I can come get you once dinner is ready.”

“Thank you,” Sweetheart sighed, kissing Milo’s cheek. They stalked off toward their bedroom, catching the attention of Aggro who followed them.

Milo didn’t like how that went. Sweetheart was hiding something from him. But, he trusted them to bring it up later, maybe after they decompressed after today. They wouldn't keep secrets from him.

And now for a small snippet of my boys (gn); Terra and Caelus. I just really wanted to write something for them so I can share them with more than just me and PK. ANYWAY:

The night was young, the drinks were flowing, the band playing joyously in the corner, and Terra was having a very good time.

She never got to have nights like these, where time slowed and she was able to conjugate with her humans. She loved watching how they interacted with each other. She loved watching the dances that they’ve come up with, and how the translated to group settings like this. They were very creative creatures, that was for sure. Terra liked to take credit for that part.

Terra could feel magic warp behind her, bending and expanding, leaving a tingling sensation on the back of her neck. She smiled, recognizing the figure that appeared behind her.

“How does anyone have any fun at these things?” Caelus’ voice vibrated within her.

“They find their ways,” Terra hummed. “You can’t fault them for that.”

“All it is just stuffy dances in stuffy clothes,” Caelus complained.

“Don’t you see what I’m seeing?” Terra asked, turning her head to look at him.

Caelus hummed, stepping closer, “What do you see?”

Terra took Caelus’ jaw in her hand, turning his head toward two young people chatting away on the edge of the room. “Love.”

“That’s love?”

“The beginning of it,” Terra hummed, “and it’s always so beautiful watching them fall in love. Not to mention,” she redirected Caelus’ gaze to the band, “that’s love, too.”

“How is that love?” Caelus questioned.

Terra chuckled, letting go. “Look at how they play, look at how they are so encapsulated by the sound that they are making. You can’t tell me that someone who plays an instrument is not in love.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Caelus said.

“And the musicians would agree with me,” Terra defended.

“You say that about everything,” Caelus muttered half-heartedly.

Terra sighed, expecting this answer from Caelus. He never understood, despite Terra feeling the innate curiosity burning within him. To see how their creations interact with one another. She knows that, fundamentally, that same desire to love and protect what he creates is in him. It was in all of them. A base functionality to their existence. However, for some reason, Caelus’ love, and hers, are two completely different things. He sees love as a neat and tidy thing. Not conditional, by any means, but there is always a cause and an effect. A means to an end. A list of tasks that must be done, and the meticulous upkeep of said results. He doesn’t like restarting a process unless it is inevitable. Terra, on the other hand, doesn’t have a process. Until something is finalized—with a consciousness—she does not feel like she is stuck with one design. However, even if a design has it flaws, Terra will often let it live anyway. She couldn’t bring herself to destroy something she created just because it didn’t go to plan. It was cruel. She could always build off of the prototypes, and evolve them into what she wanted them to be.

They were two sides of one coin. Perfection in different forms.

Terra got an idea, turning to Caelus. “Come see the celebrations in the town,” she insisted.

“What for?” Caelus asked her.

“I want to show you something.”

Thank you for reading !