#transformers artifacts continuity

[kierastransformerssideblog]

Conjunxing! Featuring my main two OTPs

[kieraambers]

I'm in such a Transformers mood, who wants to read the script to the first episode of my transformers story?

[bloomeng]

This is my official Batfam Magical Girl AU Masterpost (everyone clapped)

(image updated: 9/21/24)

I’m going to do a brief overview and then go into more details for those interested.

Bruce being from old money (and apparently being connected to Camelot) inherited a mysterious mineral with unknown properties. In its raw form it’s very unassuming, but when cut like gemstones and added to accessories it can be harnessed into a tool. By altering the mineral into a wearable item it allows the magic within to be channeled. The magic of the mineral connects with its wielder to create an outfit and (typically) a weapon. These outfits do not grant the wearer special abilities outside of the transformation and the weapon, but when worn the wearer is granted (what is basically) hammerspace and a nearly impenetrable outfit. The uniform granted is not something they can alter the appearance of but will change gradually overtime to reflect how the wielder has grown.

This mineral will henceforth be known as Arcanium. It operates on Kryptonite logic in that it’s— allegedly— super rare but also shows up whenever the plot needs it. (I’m aware it shares a name with a card game, but I wanted my Kryptonite spoof)

Martha Wayne unknowingly started the cycle by turning— what she thought was a rare gemstone— into a brooch. She died shortly after having it made and Alfred held onto it in her memory. Like canon Bruce goes on his journey of self-exploration to train. When he comes back he enacts his plan the way he does in Batman: Year One, where he goes out in basically just make-up, and it goes poorly. He wanders his manor trying to formulate a strategy and is drawn to his parent’s room and finds his mother’s brooch. Cue the first magical girl transformation. From there he alters the brooch to fit his bat aesthetic and the Batman Brooch is born.

Dick comes into his life the same way as canon. Bruce takes him in as a ward, Dick tries to track down Zucco on his own, etc. Bruce decides to use the other raw sample of Arcanium to turn into a second magical artifact. He lets Dick pick the theme, and thus the Robin Pendant is born. The rest is history.

(Before I continue I want to warn that I’m making shit up as I go, so some of this is subject to change as I move forward.)

The Robin Pendant is passed down from Robin to Robin. Each Robin got their own unique look while using it. Following canon, Dick and Bruce have their falling out and Dick gives up the Robin Pendant in a moment of anger. In this au I think Dick, not having the pendant to fall back on, tries to lead a vigilante-free life, but of course falls back into it. During a fight he somehow manages to stumble across Arcanium in its raw form. Recognizing it he takes it with him. Like Nightwing: Year One he has his conversation with Superman and decides to become his own hero. Using his knowledge of Arcanium from his years with Bruce he creates his own magical artifact and becomes Nightwing.

This is a good place to interject that I’m not changing any of their hero names. I was asked about it a couple times due to the caption, “Red Bow & Sailor Nightwing” on my Dick and Jason designs. It was just a silly caption, because I didn’t want to simply state “Jason and Dick Magical Girl au.” But being serious, I don’t really see a reason to change their names, with the exception of maybe Red Hood, seeing as I didn’t give him a red hood. My au operates on Sailor Moon logic where despite the lack of masks no one recognizes them, and it’s just vaguely explained by magic. I think it would be funny if Bruce chose to wear a mask anyway because he’s that paranoid, but we’ll see when I actually design him. Anyway point is Red Hood is lacking a red hood, maybe he secretly has a red hood on his jacket or maybe he really does go by Red Bow, I’ll leave that up to interpretation.

Arcanium does not just accidentally appear. At the end of the day it’s still a mineral and it’s not sentient, but the magic has an element of “the wand chooses the user.” It’s not so much a “chosen one thing,” so much as the magic can sense intention. It doesn’t care about the morality of the user, the magic is more seeking a symbiotic connection. (Meaning yes rogues can in fact wield artifacts.) Simply put, it wants a host that will be able to wield it. In its raw form the magic is dormant but it seeks to be… not dormant, so when it finds those who actually have the potential to create an artifact and use it, it reveals itself. It was not a coincidence that Martha had the inclination to have the brooch made, it was not a coincidence that Bruce was drawn to his parent’s room, and it was not a coincidence that Dick found Arcanium in the alleyway.

Each of the Bats have their origin moments with their own magical artifacts. I don’t have the whole timeline down, but I will say there was a lot of drama between Tim and Damian, because Tim was forced to hand over the pendant. Even though he technically relinquished it, emotionally the connection wasn’t severed. No one was sure if the transition would work, but Arcanium responds to whoever needs it more and therefore who will use it more. Like canon, Tim is having an awful time during that era. On top of all of it he’s had his title stripped from him and he can’t even argue because if it wasn’t the right move the pendant wouldn’t have responded to Damian. Dick tries to comfort him by telling him that Arcanium will appear for him when he’s ready, but Tim is furious and impatient. So like a well-adjusted person he decides he’s going to engineer his own magical artifact artificially. It goes as well as his attempt to clone Kon does. It’s not until Tim starts to get back on his feet that Arcanium presents itself to him. My thinking is that while Arcanium finds its users when they need it most, Tim’s case is abnormal. His acquisition of the pendant was unconventional from the start since he showed up and demanded to take on the Robin role. Arcanium is drawn to individuals who will actually use its properties. Tim tends to rely more on his own detective work, which renders the pendant’s properties pretty moot. Especially when he’s going off the deep end, he becomes a hermit meaning a) he wouldn’t really need/use Arcanium’s properties and b) he inadvertently limited his own chances of stumbling across it “in the wild.”

In a similar vein I believe Barbara’s journey is abnormal in that she forged her own Batgirl artifact that operates a little differently than the others, seeing as she made it without Bruce’s influence. After the accident she shelved it, maybe she passed it down to Cass, but eventually she gets it back. She created the Oracle identity without it, and for a long time the Batgirl artifact is something she avoids using, until she gets the idea to combine it with her computer to create a magic computer… sort of. She gets a uniform that is basically connected to the computer.

Going back to Damian needing the Robin Pendant more, its reaction to his acquisition was unique. As I mentioned previously the suits typically provide a weapon, well Damian is the exception. Unlike all the other Robin’s Damian didn’t need more weapons in his life, what he needed was guidance. For the first time the pendant granted Damian a magical animal guardian, which is how he gets Alfred the Cat in this au. Despite being an animal lover Damian is extremely pissed at this development. He wanted dual swords or a scarier animal at least. He can’t formally communicate with Alfred the Cat but he understands him intrinsically, though Alfred the Cat seems to be able to understand human speech somewhat. Only Damian seems to be able to truly understand Alfred the Cat. (Cue the antics of his siblings trying to figure out what the cat means or trying to control him in any capacity.) Besides being an animal, Alfred the Cat is also unique in that he doesn’t dissipate when Damian isn’t in uniform the way that the weapons do. Like the weapons he can be summoned by the pendant, but he seems to have existed prior to the pendant’s creation. (I’m toying with the idea that while in uniform, the cat would also get some sort of uniform.)

Before I get into Duke and his abnormalities, I want to address the Speedsters in this au. It’ll make sense after.

So the Flash. I want to say I don’t know if I will get around to creating full designs for them. I do have plans for Bart and maybe Wally, but I have determined how I want their mechanics to operate in the context of the au. Not all the heroes in this au are “magical girls,” in fact I’ve made the executive decision that you have to be human to wield an artifact. Arcanium may have magic in it, but it doesn’t grant its user magical abilities beyond the uniform itself. The speedsters retain their canon origins, hit by lighting blah blah blah, only with one key difference: they had Arcanium on them when they were hit. Instead of engineering an artifact Arcanium fused with their bodies granting them powers. I want to keep the magic transformation aspect (because it’s not a magical girl au without it), so instead of using a physical artifact as a channel for their powers, it’s instead the act of transforming that serves as a gateway to their speed abilities.

To me it was always important to maintain Batman’s identity of not having super powers and having to rely on engineering, which is why the Batfam have to physically build their artifacts. In a similar way I wanted to retain the integrity of the Flash’s identity of being meta but also still human. Which brings me back to Duke. I know in canon that Duke inherited his abilities, but for the sake of the au I’ve decide that he either had an accident when he was young in which traces of Arcanium fused with him or his parents had it in them and he inherited it from them, but regardless it’s less potent, but operates similar to the Speedsters. For years he couldn’t fully transform or use his powers and it wasn’t until— with Bruce’s guidance— he was able to create an artifact that allowed him to channel his abilities and transform. Even though he is a meta I wanted him to still have some of those Batfam qualities in there.

But what about the Superfam? They’re not human so how do their transformations work? The answer is simple: They’re not “magical girls.” At least not real ones, they’re faking. They’re not human (Kon and Jon are technically half human but they still get their abilities from their Kryptonian DNA), and thus cannot forge a connection with Arcanium. Truthfully I’m about to get silly— even sillier than this au already is— but I have decided that Clark is a fake artifact wielder. I like the idea that Batman has been operating longer than Superman has, so when Clark decided to become a hero in his own right his only example of how to style himself was from the bat themed vigilante, who might as well be a cryptid, operating out of Gotham. Only blurry pictures of him existed, so Clark designed his outfit based on his Kryptonian origins and Batman’s aesthetics. He had no idea about the existence of Arcanium or how it worked. This is also why Kon’s design looks so much like his canon outfit with a few magical girl elements (and definitely not because I think the lines in his canon suit already lend themselves well to a magical girl aesthetic and didn’t want to change much). Later when he gets to know Batman more he learns about the transformations, to which he panics and invents his own transformation using Kryptonian tech (ex: MAWS’s transformation). For years Bruce goes crazy trying to figure out Arcanium’s effects on aliens and if it grants them abilities on top of the ones they’re born with, and if Clark has plans to use it as a weapon, and how he managed to forge the connection in the first place— Clark comes clean as a fake once they reveal their identities to each other.

Side tangent but I find it hilarious that Green Lanterns are— by technicality— already “magical girls,” considering they’re granted magical accessories that give them powers and transform their clothing. Hal is very clear with the JL that he is nothing like Batman and constantly feels the need to assert that he is not a magical artifact wielder. The non-human members of the team still lump them together anyway.

Things I haven’t figured out:

- what each of the batfam’s weapons are

- what each of the magical artifacts are

- what to refer to magical artifact wielders as

Stepping outside the canon(?) lore of the au for a minute, obviously I’m redesigning DC characters using inspiration from a genre, because that’s what “magical girl” is. It’s a genre. This is why I refer to it in quotes and don’t call them magical boys, because I am always referring to it as a genre, which isn’t a gendered thing. However, in universe they wouldn’t call themselves magical anything, the same way the characters of Sailor Moon don’t refer to themselves as magical girls, but rather Sailor Scouts. As of right now I’m sort of just referring to them as artifact wielders, but I feel like Bruce would come up with a better name. On a similar note, throughout this whole thing I’ve been referring to Arcanium in it’s wearable state as an artifact. I don’t know if that’s the best term, but I can’t think of anything better for the generalized form of Arcanium outside of it’s raw state. For now I guess it will be “artifacts” and “artifact wielders.”

- how the wonderfam fits into this

I really can’t think of a reason why Wonder Woman would be a “magical girl” in this au. She was born with abilities, she’s not human, and I can’t see her altering her uniform to match the aesthetic. A transformation would just be a waste of time for her. I could to see maybe Cassie or Donna wanting to match with their respective teams, and perhaps maybe that’s why they would alter their uniforms? All I know is I want see Tim, Kon, Bart and Cassie as a matching “magical girl set.”

Fin… for now.

[I’m just going to put this here preemptively, because I’ve gotten messages about turning my au into fics or tiktok skits. You’re free to use this lore HOWEVER you MUST credit me not just for the designs but for the creation of the lore. I’ve put a lot of time and thought into this and I love that people love it, so I just ask for recognition. If you want to make something that’s inspired by my designs or loosely based on my au, just a simple credit for the inspiration is fine. You’re free to change things this is just how my own au operates. Regardless I would prefer to be tagged so that people can find me but also because I’d love to see other’s work.]

Current designs:

[solxamber]

1800-Curse-Control || Lilia Vanrouge

You decide to open a hotline for curing curses with Lilia. It goes exactly how you imagined it would—maybe even a little better.

“Lilia,” you said, rubbing your temples as you leaned against the counter in Ramshackle’s disaster of a kitchen. “Grim’s eating me out of house and home, literally. If I can’t afford the repairs soon, the roof will cave in. But all he cares about is premium tuna! Do you know how much that stuff costs?”

Lilia, who was casually floating upside down for no apparent reason, looked entirely too entertained. “Ah, the plight of a homeowner,” he said, grinning. “Why not turn your misfortune into opportunity? I’ve been told I have exceptional customer service skills, and I’ve been dreadfully bored. Let’s open a hotline for removing curses!”

You blinked at him. “A hotline. For curing curses.”

“Yes, my dear beastie,” he said, flipping upright midair and landing gracefully. “Think about it! This school is crawling with fools who drink unlabeled potions, poke magical artifacts, and anger vengeful spirits just for sport. You’d be rich in a week!”

“…I hate how much sense that actually makes.”

“It’s a foolproof plan,” Lilia continued, already pulling a notepad from somewhere to scribble down ideas. “I’ll handle the exorcisms and the cackling, naturally. You, my dear entrepreneur, can be the charming face of the operation. We’ll call it—hmm—‘Curse-B-Gone.’”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine, ‘Hex Hotline.’”

You considered it. On one hand, it sounded completely ridiculous. On the other hand, there was that third-year who accidentally swapped his voice with a frog’s last week and the freshmen who kept mysteriously sprouting feathers.

“…How much are we charging?”

“Ah-ha! I knew you’d come around!” Lilia said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s see, we’ll need tiers. Minor hex removal? Hundred thaumarks. Major curses—hair-growing hexes, spontaneous transformation curses—those will start at Five Hundred.”

“And what about something, like, really bad? What if someone’s whole body turns into a pumpkin or something?”

“That’s a premium package. One thousand thaumarks.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay, I’m in. But if this flops, you’re buying Grim’s tuna for the next month.”

Lilia smirked, his fangs glinting mischievously. “Deal.”

By the end of the day, you’d set up a magical hotline using some weird orb Lilia “borrowed” from the library, a vaguely threatening poster campaign across the campus (“Cursed? Hexed? A jackal-headed god show up at your dorm? Call us!”), and a suspiciously well-stocked supply of anti-curse materials Lilia claimed were “leftovers” from his youth.

You weren’t sure whether to feel excited or like you’d just signed up for the most bizarre mistake of your life. Either way, you couldn’t wait to see how this would go down.

The orb hotline rang for the first time, glowing ominously on the rickety desk in Ramshackle. You and Lilia exchanged glances.

“Answer it!” he whispered, like this was some spy mission and not a cursed customer service line.

With a deep breath, you picked it up. “Uh… Hello, this is the Cursed and Confused Hotline. How can we—”

“YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Ace’s voice screamed on the other end. “HE’S GOING TO KILL ME THIS TIME!”

You winced, holding the orb away from your ear. “Ace? What happened?”

“I DON’T KNOW! I WAS JUST TRYING TO MAKE TEA!”

“Okay, and?”

“And I might’ve…accidentally used that weird sugar in the Heartslabyul pantry, the one that glows in the dark? And now Riddle’s head is covered in, like…peonies. Big, pink peonies. They keep growing whenever he gets mad, which, uh, is always.”

You slapped your forehead. “You cursed your housewarden?!”

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” Ace wailed. “I thought it was sugar, not cursed fertilizer! Look, can you just fix this before he declares ‘off with my head’ for real?”

“Ugh, fine. Where are you now?”

“Hiding in the rose bushes. He hasn’t found me yet, but I think I heard him sharpening a guillotine.”

“Classic Heartslabyul,” Lilia said cheerfully, already packing his so-called emergency kit.

When you and Lilia arrived at Heartslabyul, it was pure chaos. Riddle stood in the center of the garden, his face as red as his hair—and also half-obscured by an explosion of giant pink peonies blooming out of his head like some cursed bouquet.

“TREY!” Riddle bellowed. “GET THE GARDEN SHEARS!”

Ace was crouched in a rose bush nearby, whispering frantically. “Please tell me you brought an anti-cursed-flower spray or something!”

You ignored him and approached Riddle cautiously. “Uh, Riddle? You’ve got—”

“I KNOW WHAT I HAVE!” Riddle shrieked, a few more flowers blooming on his head. “I demand immediate remedy! Or else—”

“We’ll fix it,” Lilia cut in, grinning like this was the most fun he’d had in centuries. “Now, let’s see…” He pulled a vial of glowing liquid from his kit. “This should do the trick.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, eyeing the suspiciously fizzing vial.

“Of course not,” Lilia said, popping it open.

He dumped the liquid over Riddle’s head without warning. The flowers immediately shriveled up and disappeared.

Riddle blinked, touching his head in astonishment. “…It’s gone?”

“You’re welcome,” Lilia said with a dramatic bow.

Ace peeked out from the bushes. “So…he’s not mad anymore, right?”

Riddle’s death glare answered that question.

“RUN!” you yelled, dragging Ace out of the garden as Riddle shouted about punishment for “sugar crimes.”

Back at Ramshackle, you slumped against the desk. “We’re never doing house calls again.”

Lilia just laughed. “Oh, but the drama! I live for it!”

The hotline orb began glowing again, pulsing with a foreboding, bluish light.

You groaned. “If this is Ace again, I swear—”

Lilia waved his hand. “Come now, it’s probably another entertaining disaster! Answer it!”

You reluctantly picked up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What’s your—”

“FIX. THIS. NOW!” came Azul’s shrill, panicked voice.

You blinked. “Azul? What’s—”

“I CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE WHAT HE’S DONE THIS TIME!”

“Oh, come on, Azul!” Floyd’s voice cut in, cackling in the background. “It’s a masterpiece!”

“Masterpiece?” Azul screeched. “You flooded the dining room and filled it with—WHY ARE THERE EELS IN THE SOUP POTS?”

“Because it’s hilarious!” Floyd howled, clearly having the time of his life.

Jade’s calm voice joined in, oozing politeness as always. “To be fair, Floyd has a point. The eels are thriving in there.”

Azul sputtered like a broken faucet. “THRIVING?! THEY’RE STEALING PEOPLE’S FOOD!”

“Sounds efficient to me,” Floyd said. You could practically hear him smirking. “Dinner and a show!”

Lilia perked up. “Eels in soup pots? How creative!”

“Don’t encourage him!” Azul barked. “Do you know how much it costs to repair the water damage he’s caused? The walls are dripping! The chandelier is dripping! I AM DRIPPING!”

“That’s not cursed,” you said, trying to hide your amusement. “That’s just Floyd being—well, Floyd.”

“Oh, no, it’s cursed,” Azul hissed. “Every time I try to remove the eels, the water level rises. They’re like aquatic squatters! Fix it or I swear I’ll—”

The sound of something massive splashing cut him off, followed by Floyd’s uncontrollable laughter.

“HAHAHA! He slipped into the soup pot! Jade, did you see that?”

“I did,” Jade replied, his voice as smooth as ever. “It was quite elegant.”

“AZUL’S AN EEL NOW!” Floyd cried. “Eel bros for life, baby!”

The orb started vibrating violently.

“Get. Over. Here. Now.” Azul’s voice was barely a whisper, the tone of someone seconds away from an aneurysm.

You sighed and grabbed your bag. “Let’s go before he implodes.”

When you arrived at Mostro Lounge, it was exactly what you expected—and somehow worse. The entire dining area was flooded, eels swam lazily in the soup pots, and Azul was perched on a chair, drenched from head to toe and glaring murderously at Floyd, who was happily paddling through the water like it was his personal playground.

“Finally!” Azul barked, waving his wet hand. “Do something! Anything!”

Floyd, half-submerged in a soup pot, waved at you. “Hey! You wanna join the eel party? First rule—no rules!”

Lilia clapped his hands. “This is magnificent chaos!”

Azul groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll double your pay if you fix this immediately.”

You glanced at Lilia, who was already pouring a suspiciously glowing liquid into the water.

“This should work,” he said cheerfully.

The water started to drain, the eels vanished in puffs of smoke, and the room returned to normal—except for Floyd, who now floated upside down in midair, spinning like a cursed top.

“Whoa, this is AWESOME!” Floyd laughed, twirling like a maniac. “I’m a flying eel!”

Azul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you said “I’m charging you extra for emotional damages.”

The hotline orb flared up again, casting a frantic purple glow. You groaned, mid-sip of tea.

“I don’t know if I can handle more insanity.”

Lilia, perched upside down on the couch, grinned. “Nonsense! Chaos keeps the heart young. Answer it!”

Reluctantly, you picked it up. “Cursed and Confused Hotline. What did you do, and how bad is it?”

“It’s me! It’s Epel!” came the desperate, whisper-shouted voice of the Pomefiore freshman. “I need your help—immediately! I’ve got the worst curse of all on me.”

“Worst curse?” you asked, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Vil,” Epel said, voice shaking. “And Rook.”

“...Epel, those are people, not curses.”

“They are when Vil finds out I repurposed his limited-edition face mask jars as apple cider mugs for the guys in Savanaclaw!”

Lilia burst into a delighted cackle. “Oh, that’s fantastic!”

“Not fantastic! Vil’s gonna flay me alive!” Epel hissed. “And Rook’s hunting me down like a rabbit in the woods. Please, ya gotta help!”

You tried not to laugh. “How exactly do you want me to help? I can’t exactly—”

A loud thud echoed through the call, followed by Epel screaming, “He found me! NO! PUT THAT BOW DOWN!”

“Bonjour, my friend~!” Rook’s voice came through, as smooth as velvet and disturbingly cheerful. “Ah, how beautiful the chase! Like a fox cornered by the hounds, our petit pomme has finally been found!”

“ROOK, NO! DON’T HAND ME OVER!”

“Oh, petit lapin,” Rook said, unbothered, “the punishment will only make you stronger. Think of it as a trial by fire!”

“I DON’T WANT TO BE STRONGER, I WANNA BE ALIVE!” Epel shrieked.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Rook, what exactly are you planning to do with him?”

“Ah, worry not,” Rook replied. “I am but a humble messenger delivering him to justice. Vil has been most patient.”

“HE CALLED ME A PEASANT AND THREW A HEEL AT ME, THAT’S PATIENT?” Epel howled.

Lilia leaned forward, thoroughly entertained. “Rook, at least let us have a word with Epel before he meets his doom.”

“But of course!”

“HELP ME!” Epel screamed the moment Rook handed him the phone. “Distract them, hex me, I dunno, CURSE ME INTO A TREE OR SOMETHING—”

“Epel,” you said firmly, trying not to laugh, “you’re going to have to face Vil eventually. What’s the worst he could do?”

“THE WORST? Oh, I dunno, exile me to a skincare bootcamp for the rest of my natural life?”

Rook’s voice floated in. “Imagine it, petit pomme: cleansing facials, detoxifying baths, and no more cider mugs. A new you!”

“YOU STAY OUTTA THIS!”

You sighed. “I can offer one thing.”

“Anything!”

“An apology. I suggest you start practicing now.”

“An apology?! I called Vil’s collection overhyped snake oil. I’m DOOMED!”

“Not if you run fast enough,” Rook chimed in cheerfully. “Shall we test your stamina?”

The call ended with Epel’s scream, followed by the distinct sound of someone bolting at full speed.

“Well,” Lilia said, smiling. “That was worth every second.”

Jamil’s voice crackled through the orb strained and absolutely done.

"Hi, yeah, it’s me again."

You rolled your eyes. "Let me guess. Kalim tried to throw a party?"

"And Cater," Jamil growled, the sound of something crashing in the background. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to manage one chaos gremlin? Now imagine two. They’ve cursed half the dorm—random objects are coming to life, and singing. And I don’t mean pleasant singing. I mean like if a banshee and a kazoo had a love child."

Lilia leaned in beside you, eyes glittering with delight. "Oho, this sounds entertaining! What did they do this time?"

Jamil sighed deeply, as if he’d just aged ten years in the past ten minutes. "Kalim thought it would be fun to 'spice up' a party by enchanting the decorations. Cater encouraged him, saying it would make a great Magicam post. The result? The curtains are now tap-dancing, the chandelier won’t stop singing old sea shanties, and the punch bowl tried to bite me."

Lilia clapped his hands. "This sounds like an excellent way to spend the afternoon! Let’s go!"

You groaned. "Why do I have to go?"

"Because you’re the only one who can keep Lilia from making things worse," Jamil deadpanned.

Arriving at Scarabia was like stepping into a fever dream. The furniture was waltzing around the room, the ceiling fan was chanting, "Spin me right round, baby, right round," and the aforementioned punch bowl snarled at you as you walked in.

Kalim, of course, was having the time of his life, clapping to the rhythm of the furniture parade. Cater was filming everything, laughing as he tried to get the chandelier to do a TikTok dance.

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Jamil hissed, his hair practically frazzled.

"Let’s fix this before someone dies," you muttered, pulling out the anti-curse toolkit Lilia had handed you on the way.

"Or before someone posts this to Magicam and the entire world sees it," Jamil added grimly, glaring at Cater.

It started smoothly enough—well, as smoothly as any curse-breaking session with Lilia could go. The two of you worked to unravel the enchantments while dodging flying pillows and shrieking party streamers.

Then, of course, you made the mistake of touching an enchanted lamp.

It burst into song—loud, off-key, and somehow extremely personal. The lyrics were all about your lack of a love life and questionable fashion choices. Before you could fight back, it tangled itself around your arms and legs, dragging you upward toward the chandelier.

"Hey, uh, Lilia? Little help!"

Lilia, ever the dramatic savior, leaped into action. With a mischievous grin, he sliced through the magical binds with a well-aimed spell and caught you mid-fall.

You blinked up at him, heart hammering in your chest. His crimson eyes glimmered with amusement, his fangs showing in a victorious smirk. He cradled you with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible given his stature.

"You alright there, my dear?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

"Yeah, I’m fine," you muttered, face heating up. "Just…you know…trying not to die."

But your brain wasn’t focusing on that. It was too busy processing the fact that Lilia was holding you like you weighed nothing, and you could feel your pulse quickening. Damn it, why is my heart beating so fast?

He tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. "Are you sure? Your face is a bit flushed."

"Nope! Totally fine!" you squeaked, scrambling out of his arms as soon as your feet touched the ground.

Jamil, watching the whole thing from across the room, rolled his eyes. "Great. Now you’re cursed too."

"Shut up, Jamil."

It took another hour, but the dorm was finally back to normal—or as normal as Scarabia could be. Kalim apologized profusely, Cater promised to delete the footage (he didn’t), and Jamil looked like he might snap at any moment.

As you and Lilia walked out, you tried to calm your racing heart, but he leaned in with a knowing grin.

"Quite the adventure today, wasn’t it?"

"Sure," you replied quickly, hoping your face wasn’t still red.

He hummed thoughtfully. "I wonder what’s got your heart racing so much. You’re not catching feelings for your favorite partner-in-chaos, are you?"

"Not a chance," you lied, your heart betraying you with another treacherous thump.

Lilia just chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if he believed you—or if he was just letting you stew in your own embarrassment for fun.

The enchanted orb buzzed frantically, and you groaned as you reached for it. The second you accepted the call, you heard Deuce.

“HELP! WE MESSED UP BAD!”

“Deuce?” you asked, already dreading the answer. “What did you do this time?”

Jack’s voice came through, exasperated and growly. “It wasn’t just him. I was there too.”

“Great,” you deadpanned. “So, what kind of mess am I cleaning up now?”

Deuce gulped. “We, uh… were practicing some spellwork for exams—”

“Right by the Spelldrive practice field,” Jack added grimly.

Your eyes widened. “Please don’t tell me you—”

“Destroyed the field? Yeah,” Deuce admitted miserably. “But we didn’t mean to! The explosion was an accident!”

You heard a sharp, angry voice in the background: “AN ACCIDENT?! YOU DESTROYED HALF THE FIELD, YOU LITTLE—”

“Leona’s there?” you asked, already standing up.

Deuce nodded frantically. “He’s so mad. Please come before he kills us!”

“Stay put,” you said, grabbing your things. “And pray he doesn’t finish you off before we get there.”

The Spelldrive practice field was a warzone. One goalpost was completely obliterated, sand smoldered in random patches across the ground, and an entire section of the bleachers looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

Leona was standing in the middle of the chaos, arms crossed, glaring daggers at Deuce and Jack, who were huddled behind a tipped-over bench like it could save them. His team stood a safe distance away, clearly too smart to get involved.

You arrived with Lilia in tow, who was already grinning like he’d just stumbled upon the most entertaining show of the year.

“Oh, this is delightful,” Lilia mused, surveying the carnage. “It’s like an abstract painting of destruction.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, jogging toward the scene.

Leona’s sharp green eyes locked onto you. “Finally. You gonna fix this mess, or do I get to turn these two into sandbags?”

“Leona,” you said, stepping between him and the disaster twins, “We’ll handle it. Just… don’t murder them. Yet.”

Leona snorted. “You’ve got five minutes.”

Lilia hummed a jaunty tune as he began waving his hands over the destroyed sections of the field. Slowly, the sand settled, the goalpost reformed, and the bleachers stopped looking like they’d gone through a blender.

Meanwhile, you kept Leona from pouncing on Deuce and Jack, who were watching Lilia work with wide eyes.

“You two better hope I don’t find out about another ‘accident,’” Leona growled, looming over you.

“Relax,” you said, holding up a hand. “They’re idiots, not criminals. Save your energy for your team.”

Leona rolled his eyes but stepped back, muttering something about “babysitters.”

When everything was finally back in order, Lilia dusted off his hands with a satisfied smile. “That was quite fun. We should let those two cause chaos more often.”

You shot him a look. “Please don’t encourage them.”

Leona, arms crossed and clearly annoyed, stepped closer. “You’re done? Good. I’ll send Ruggie with something to pay you later.” Then he smirked, eyes flicking between you and Lilia. “Now keep your lovesick asses away from my practice field.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wha—?! Lovesick?”

Leona just walked off with a lazy wave, leaving you standing there, half-mortified.

Lilia leaned in, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Oh my. He really has a way with words, doesn’t he?”

“Don’t you start,” you muttered, your face burning.

But when you turned to walk away, Lilia was by your side, chuckling softly. He caught your wrist gently, pulling you to a stop for just a moment. “For what it’s worth,” he said, voice quieter and more serious, “you were quite impressive back there, keeping Leona from turning them into mincemeat.”

Your heart did a flip. “Uh… thanks?”

He let go with a grin, stepping back and returning to his usual playful tone. “Now, let’s see if we can avoid the next disaster, hmm?”

You weren’t sure if your face would ever cool down.

Potions class with the first-year gang was never uneventful. Today was no exception. The room smelled faintly of burnt caramel as Grim waved his tiny paws at Ace, who was leaning smugly on the table.

“I told you not to put that in!” Grim yelped.

“I barely touched it!” Ace shot back.

“It doesn’t matter who did it!” Sebek barked, slamming his hands on the table. “What matters is that our potion is—”

“About to blow,” Jack growled, pointing to the cauldron bubbling ominously.

“Wait—WHAT?!” you yelped, but it was too late.

The cauldron erupted, spraying a shimmering pink mist over everyone. The class erupted into chaos as Sebek shouted about “inferior techniques,” Epel coughed dramatically like he was dying, and Deuce tried (and failed) to douse the sparks with his coat.

You, unfortunately, caught the brunt of the potion to the face.

You thought the effects were mild at first—just a faint warmth in your chest and the echo of the sugary-sweet scent in your nose. But when you sat down at lunch with Lilia and Malleus, the symptoms became impossible to ignore.

Lilia was chatting animatedly, laughing at his own jokes and waving his fork in the air, while Malleus nodded thoughtfully. But you weren’t hearing a word.

Your brain had decided that the only thing worth focusing on was how kissable Lilia’s lips looked.

Wait, what?

You shook your head, trying to clear it, but it only got worse. Now you were noticing how nice his voice was. And his smile. And the way his hand brushed yours when he passed the salt—

Oh, no.

“Child of man,” Malleus said, pulling you from your internal meltdown, “you seem… distracted.”

You blinked rapidly. “Uh. Yeah. Distracted. Totally fine. Definitely not—uh—totally infatuated with Lilia or anything.”

Lilia looked up, smirking. “Oh? How flattering.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “IT’S THE POTION!”

Malleus watched you pace back and forth in the hallway, his expression somewhere between amused and curious.

“You have to fix me,” you begged, grabbing his shoulders. “This has to be the potion talking. There’s no way I just—randomly—started thinking about Lilia like that!”

Malleus tilted his head, his eyes studying you intently. “You truly believe you are under an enchantment?”

“Yes! Of course!” You gestured wildly. “I mean, it’s Lilia! He’s my partner in crime! He’s—he’s—”

“Kissable?” Malleus offered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Your hands dropped to your sides. “You are so not helping.”

He stepped closer, his presence calm but commanding, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Very well, child of man. Allow me to assess your condition.”

Malleus leaned forward, his magic swirling faintly around him as he studied you with eerie precision.

After a moment, he straightened, folding his arms. “The potion you were exposed to was a failure. Its intended effects are nonexistent.”

You froze. “What are you saying?”

Malleus raised an eyebrow. “I am saying that you are not under a spell. Your feelings are entirely your own.”

You stared at Malleus in horror.

“So… you’re telling me… I’m not cursed?”

“Precisely.”

“And this… this whole… wanting to kiss Lilia thing…” You paused, voice dropping to a mortified whisper. “That’s just me?”

Malleus nodded sagely. “Indeed.”

You covered your face with your hands. “No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lilia’s voice drifted from the next room. “Are you done conspiring with Malleus, beastie? Lunch is getting cold!”

You peeked through your fingers at Malleus, who looked like he was thoroughly enjoying your suffering.

“Good luck, child of man,” he said, patting your shoulder.

You groaned. “I’m going to die.”

And yet, as you returned to the table and sat down next to Lilia, who greeted you with his usual teasing grin, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

You didn’t think it could get any worse than being late for class, but that was before Grim decided to experiment with potions unsupervised. Now, you and Lilia were sprinting through the halls of NRC, dodging a cursed army of flying spoons.

“I told Grim not to use the potions lab as a snack bar!” you gasped, barely ducking as a spoon zoomed past your head with terrifying precision.

Lilia, running beside you, was grinning like this was the most fun he’d had all week. “I must admit, this is an impressive level of chaos. Even I wouldn’t have thought to curse cutlery!”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you panted, grabbing his arm as another wave of spoons turned the corner. “Hide!”

The two of you dove behind a nearby tapestry, pressing against the wall as the spoons zipped past, their metallic clinking fading into the distance.

For a moment, it was quiet—except for the pounding of your heart.

Your breathing slowly steadied, but your heart didn’t. Not when Lilia was so close, his eyes gleaming with excitement and his cheeks flushed from the chase.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lilia,” you blurted, voice trembling but determined, “I’m in love with you.”

Lilia blinked, his surprise evident for a split second before a soft smile curved his lips. “Ah, I see. Was it the spoons that gave me away, or my undeniable charm?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m serious!”

He chuckled, gently pulling your hands away to meet your eyes. “So am I. I’ve felt the same for quite some time.”

Your breath hitched. “Really?”

“Really,” he murmured, leaning closer. His lips brushed yours, soft and fleeting, but it sent your heart racing like you were being chased by a thousand cursed spoons.

He pulled back, his grin mischievous. “Now, let’s survive this first date, shall we?”

He grabbed your hand, pulling you from your hiding spot just as the spoons began circling back like a swarm of metallic bees.

“Run!”

You laughed despite yourself, sprinting hand-in-hand with Lilia as the chaos erupted around you once more.

And yet, as you glanced at him—his hair wild, his smile unshakable, his fingers warm around yours—you couldn’t help but think:

I want this forever.

Masterlist

[coolshadowtwins]

Shen Yuan gets hit with a truth serum plot fic round up!

These are from the comments and reblogs of my previous post

Absolution by airplanelanding

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51587557#main

Summary: Luo Binghe stared back at him. There was something distant in his eyes, something Shen Qingqiu was too tired, too drained, to decipher. Then, Luo Binghe’s lips opened in a non-apology, a soft, murmured sentence—a quiet, “I need to know the truth.”

Shen Qingqiu frowned. He opened his mouth to question the damn-near imploring words, but he never got the chance.

He failed to notice something was in Luo Binghe’s hands until it was too late.

Or

Luo Binghe is determined to get answers this time, now that Shen Qingqiu can't run away. Even if he has to use a truth serum to do it.

aka A Water Prison Re-Write.

"open my lungs to let you in" by ghostybreads https://archiveofourown.org/works/37276570

Summary: Shen Qingqiu had a secret. So, naturally, it was only a matter of time before he was hit by a truth serum wife plot.

//

“How are you?”

“Horny. Kind of want Binghe to rail me, I guess. But it’s manageable.”

Liu Qingge’s hand on his forehead froze, and he was close enough that Shen Qingqiu could hear his breathing stop. He stared back expressionlessly, the mortification distantly crawling up the back of his neck. Honest One-Horned–

The frustrated scream that he usually vented in his head, came out straight from mouth.

“aaAAAAAHHHH GODDAMNIT AIRPLANE–”

no regret (i've been sorry all these years) by krmilia

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39006066

Summary: There is no actual way the System hated him so much, right? Right?

Recently a lot of shitty things happened to Shen Qingqiu. By that he meant sowers in Jinlan city, return of his wayward disciple – who, uhm, prepared him surprise by leaving the Abyss two years early – and now… Well, now he was poisoned with a truth serum.

(Or, Bingqiu finally talk.)

speak your mind (not that much!) by nyoomerr https://archiveofourown.org/works/38953875

Summary: Before the investigation in Jinlan City, Shen Qingqiu is hit by a curse that forces him to speak his mind. Unfortunately, this means that the first thing he does when he sees Luo Binghe for the first time in three years is to tell Luo Binghe that he's grown up to be really quite pretty.

Luo Binghe, not sure what's going on but absolutely enjoying the ride, abandons all his plans immediately. He has new priorities now, including but not limited to:

- get his Shizun to call him 'pretty' again

- steal his Shizun away from his (probably in existence) harem

- ???

funny how you just break down (waiting on some sign) https://archiveofourown.org/works/36742384/chapters/91657246

Summary: Luo Binghe’s hand is half-raised, and Shen Qingqiu is going to die and this is the hand that will—

“[Notice: In appreciation of your continued use of our services, System 2.0 is offering {Valued Customer} a complimentary Bonus Plotline! Do you accept?]”

aka, What if Luo Binghe could read Shen Qingqiu’s mind during the Jinlan City arc?

What is Seen by CavetteDracones

Summary: …is not [always] the real truth.

Truth-compelling artifacts in the hands of an enemy to one side, SYSTEM-mandated silence on the other, and Shen Qingqiu caught between the two. Is it too late to go back to the Water Prison?

BONAS:

Moshang

If It can be destroyed by Tossawary https://archiveofourown.org/works/53124079

I’ll probably add more as they are either found by me or suggested!

[good-advice-ganondorf]

Majora's Mask and what it means to be grown up

(aka my collected analysis of the Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask)

I will say that generally I don't think Termina is purgatory, or a dream, or anything like that. To me, Termina is kind of like a Silent Hill type parallel world, where you face your deepest traumas.

First, the parallels between Majora's Mask, and the child section of Ocarina of Time.

The first dungeon for both games is in a vast wooded area, there are woodland races inhabiting both areas, the Kokiri for Ocarina of Time, and the Deku for Majora's mask. The second dungeon is in a great mountain, inhabited by the Gorons. The third dungeon is in a vast body of water, inhabited by the Zora.

Then, things split. After Jabu Jabu, Link becomes an adult. After Great Bay, there's Ikana Canyon. A land of nothing but Death.

Who caused the death of Ikana? Who else but the king, Igo Du Ikana. Ikana was plunged into disrepair, after Igos started a war with a clan of Ninjas, to receive a powerful artifact, in a great and mysterious temple. Sound familiar? It should, this is exactly what Ganondorf did, after Link was sealed away for seven years. But Ganondorf was successful.

But Ikana isn't completely occupied by the dead, no. Pamela remains, with her father, turned into an undead monster. Much like Sheik, the last Sheikah, who is revealed to be Zelda. And her father? He's never seen, but I'd imagine it would be easy enough for Ganondorf to become king, if the other one was no longer around. From a man, to a corpse.

So, if Ganondorf is a parallel to Igos, and Zelda is a parallel to Pamela, what about Link? He's a little different. I believe that, along with Kafei and Tingle, all three of the transformation masks are a representation of Link, and his feelings towards being forced to grow up.

Tingle is, as we know, a 35 year old man who thinks he's a fairy boy. Similar to how link was a 10 year old boy, who thought he was a fairy boy. I believe Tingle is a reflection of what Link could have been if he never left Kokiri Forest. An adult hylian man, thinking he's a Kokiri.

On the contrary, Kafei is distraught at the idea of becoming a child again. He's weaker, he can't marry his fiancee, and everyone treats him like well, a child, despite his maturity. I believe this is how Link feels after becoming a child again. He used to be a strong adult, and even if he's not as mature as Kafei, he still went through a lot, and knows a lot more about life now. Kafei even reuses Link's model and animations.

There's a reoccurring theme in Ocarina of Time where Link just doesn't belong anywhere he goes. He's an outsider to the other races, because he's a hylian, but he's also an outsider to the hylians, because he was raised as a Kokiri. I think the transformation masks reflect that.

The Deku Butler's Son is what he could have been as a Kokiri. He could have been a happy little boy, living with his father, and his community. But Link and the Deku butler's son both left home to explore, and as far as both the Kokiri and the Deku are concerned, neither came back.

Darmani is what he could have been as a Goron. A powerful hero to the Gorons, celebrated by them for clearing Dodongo's Cavern. A close link between the goron elder, Darunia, and their sons. Both him and Link remain after death, lamenting on their histories as heros.

Mikau is what he could have been as a Zora. Maybe not a cool as hell guitarist, but a husband to Ruto, and Prince of the Zora Who would stop at nothing to keep her happy and safe, like infiltrating a fortress, or climbing inside of a whale.

Even the Fierce Deity is just Link, but back as an adult. As if so much changed so rapidly, he felt like he transformed into something less like himself, and more like a powerful god. He could have continued being strong, and powerful, the defeater of Ganon, but he had to become a child again. He has to stay as a small, and unknown child.

The ages of the masks even match the human life cycle. According to the debug menu (and if you subscribe to the theory that Link and DBS's ages were swapped), DBS is 5, Link is 12, Darmani is 30, Mikau is 78, and, Fierce Deity is 17, likely due to his model being recycled from adult Link's. Link starts the game in the body of a 5 year old, then a 12 year old, then a 30 year old, then a 72 year old, and finally, a God.

We don't exactly know how Link feels. But I can't imagine it would be easy to go from a child, with no concept of death, to be thrust into a position where he's forced to fight and kill an adult man so much stronger than he is. And then everything was just reversed. Like that. As if it never happened. And only Link remembers the impending doom he faced. All he can do is remember Ganondorf's reign. Almost like he's reliving the same few days, again, and again, and again.

[heliosunny]

My little sunny apple

Yandere!Caleb x Reader

I had one fic for Yandere!Xavier inspired by sleeping beauty. So why not Yandere!Caleb with Snow White. -There are details that are different from the game-

Growing up in a world devastated by the monstrous Wanderers, Caleb and you clung to each other like survivors in a storm. The orphaned boy you met at the shelter became more than a companion; he became your family. To you, Caleb was a brave, kind older brother, someone you could rely on. But for Caleb, you were so much more—his light.

When Caleb first arrived at the shelter, he was distant and bitter, carrying the weight of loss and distrust. At first, he resisted your attempts to befriend him, brushing off your kindness with scorn. But when he hit rock bottom—sick, starving, and too proud to ask for help—you were there, offering medicine and food, staying up through the nights to cool his fever. When the other children bullied him, you stood by his side, fighting battles that left bruises on your skin but pride in his heart.

It was your unwavering presence that sparked a change in Caleb. He vowed to be strong, to grow into someone who could protect instead of being protected. Despite the world’s chaos, the ancient apple tree in Linkon City—one of the last remnants of beauty—became your sanctuary. Under its shade, Caleb called you "Little Sunny Apple" a nickname that carried the hope and light you brought into his life.

But fate was cruel. During a catastrophic attack by the Wanderers, the shelter fell. The world you had built together shattered as the ground caved beneath your feet. Caleb was dragged from the rubble by strangers, unconscious and broken, while you were left behind, believing he had perished.

---

Caleb’s rescuers were not saviors, they were the Farspace Fleet, a militarized faction bent on survival at any cost. They took Caleb in, reshaped his broken body and fractured mind, and turned him into a weapon. His right hand, once warm and steady, was replaced with a high-tech prosthetic covered in synthetic skin. Under their harsh training, Caleb rose to power, becoming a feared colonel renowned for his ruthless efficiency. But despite his transformation, one thing remained unchanged: his obsession with finding you.

Years passed before Caleb discovered you were alive. The revelation filled him with a manic joy and a burning resolve to never lose you again. But Caleb was no longer the boy you had known. His love, once pure and selfless, had curdled into something darker. Like the wicked stepmother from a fairytale, he became consumed by his need to craft the perfect version of you—one who would never leave his side.

Through years of research into the Wanderers, Caleb had uncovered their secrets. Beneath Linkon City lay their cores, strange organic artifacts that, when harvested and refined, could create a serum granting extraordinary abilities: superhuman strength, longevity, and immunity to the Wanderers' powers. Yet the process was gruesome, requiring the deaths of countless Wanderers and innocent civilians caught in the crossfire.

From this research, Caleb created his masterpiece: a shimmering, otherworldly apple infused with the essence of dozens of Wanderer cores. He believed this "perfect apple" would make you immortal, tying you to him forever.

---

Unaware of Caleb’s transformation, you continued your dangerous work hunting Wanderers, finding solace in quiet moments at the ancient apple tree. It was there, on a rare day off, that you saw him. The man before you was a stranger, his features hardened by years of war, but his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Do I know you?" you asked, skepticism in your tone.

"It’s me... Caleb," he replied, his voice trembling. "Your Caleb."

You were ready to dismiss him as an imposter until he uttered the nickname only one person could know: "Little Sunny Apple."

Tears blurred your vision as years of grief and longing crashed over you. You threw your arms around him, clinging to the boy you had thought you’d lost forever. The reunion was bittersweet—a balm for your broken heart, but beneath the surface, something felt off.

---

At first, Caleb’s gestures seemed loving. He brought you baskets of apples, listened intently to your stories, and promised to protect you from all harm. But his care soon became suffocating. He insisted you quit your job, claiming he could provide for you. When you tried to cook, he took over. When you wanted to explore his ship, he forbade it, urging you to stay in your quarters for your own safety.

One day, curiosity led you to a hidden lab aboard his ship. What you found left you breathless: the glowing apple, its unnatural light casting eerie shadows. Files revealed the truth of its creation—the slaughter of Wanderers, the sacrifices of innocents, all to craft a fruit meant to bind you to Caleb.

"You weren’t supposed to see that." Caleb’s voice cut through the silence.

Horrified, you turned to face him. "How could you? All those lives… for what?"

"For you" he said, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. "To keep you safe. To make sure no one—not the Wanderers, not anyone...could hurt you."

He held the apple out to you like a sacred offering. "Eat it. Please. It will make you stronger. You won’t need to risk your life anymore."

You backed away, shaking your head. "This isn’t love, Caleb. This is control."

---

Caleb’s obsession reached its breaking point when he locked you in his quarters, convinced you would eventually "see reason." Days turned into weeks as you planned your escape, aided by Kevin, Caleb’s adjutant. Kevin, unlike his commander, treated you with kindness and respect. His gentle demeanor and steadfast loyalty reminded you of the princes from forgotten tales—a quiet hero in a story overshadowed by darkness.

Caleb noticed. His jealousy burned like a wildfire, consuming what little restraint he had left. "You still see me as your brother" he snarled one night. "But I’ll show you. I’ll make you see me as more."

Your chance to escape came during a Wanderer attack on the fleet. As chaos erupted, you and Kevin made your way to the lab, determined to destroy the apple. But Caleb intercepted you, his powers—gained from the very serum he had created, rendering him nearly unstoppable.

"Don’t do this" he pleaded, his voice breaking. "Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you."

"You don’t understand, Caleb" you said, tears streaming down your face. "Love isn’t about control. It’s about freedom."

In the struggle that followed, you and Kevin managed to destroy the apple. But Caleb’s fury was swift and brutal. With a single shot, he ended Kevin’s life, his eyes wild with grief and rage.

"You chose him over me" Caleb said, his voice trembling with betrayal. "But it doesn’t matter. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix you."

Caleb’s control tightened after that day. He kept you close, his obsessive love morphing into a gilded cage. You became his "perfect apple" a treasure to be admired but never freed. Yet even in captivity, your spirit remained unbroken. You vowed to find a way to escape—to remind Caleb of the boy who had once valued your freedom as much as your life.

[angelremnants]

Heat Waves l J. B. Barnes

PART TWO.⠀LATE JUNE NIGHTS

summary : After years of manipulation by Hydra, Bucky Barnes must find his place in a world that has long moved on without him. With you, an independent and unwavering agent by his side, he reluctantly embarks on a transformative journey of recovery in Wakanda. Amid the kingdom's vibrant culture, your connection to Bucky deepens as he confronts personal demons and embrace the healing process. Bucky learns to welcome the warmth of new beginnings, understanding that even after winter's cold grip, the sun can shine through. Inspired by Heat Waves by Glass Animals.

pairing : James ''Bucky'' Barnes x f!reader

warnings : Mature (16+), slow burn, eventual romance, pure fluff, mentions of past trauma, themes of healing, banter, teasing, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 13.4k

author's notes : So, I lied. I said this next part was going to be the continuation AND ending of this fic.. Long story short, I went overboard (again) and wrote way much more than I had initially planned (I decided last minute to incorporate sexy time for the last part because I'm feral). Anyway, I highly recommend reading the first part beforehand, as it provides essential context for the following scenes.

Writing about Wakanda makes me miss my home country—listening to All the Stars (one of my fav' songs, btw) especially makes me miss all of the amazing summers I spent there, so I took a bit of inspo from them while writing some parts of the story.

I'd also like to adress an immense thank you to @stilleobjection for helping me get set on major components of the story. Live, laugh, love my moots<3

(ao3 version)

The sparring matches had ended on a high note, leaving everyone in good spirits. Shuri, still grinning after her mock victory over you, clapped her hands.

“Alright, white boy, Sparky, we’ve got plans for you today,” she announced, exchanging a glance with T’Challa. “Something is cooking back at the palace, so we need you two out of the way while it’s being perfected.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Out of the way? Should we be worried?”

The king chuckled as he clasped Bucky on the shoulder in camaraderie. “Not at all. My sister thought it would be good for you both to explore a bit of Wakanda’s countryside. It’s a chance to unwind after the training session.”

Shuri tilted her head toward a guide waiting nearby. “We’ve got quads—well, Wakandan versions of quads—prepped for you. Trust me, they’re fast, safe, and a lot of fun. And since I don’t trust you two to behave, I’ll be joining.”

“Wait,” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes. “Why do I feel like this is part of some elaborate scheme?”

Shuri gasped, feigning offense. “White boy, I’m shocked you’d accuse me of such treachery. This is purely for your benefit. You should be thanking me.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, let’s do it. But if this is a setup, Shuri, you’re paying for the therapy.”

With that, the three of you followed the guide to an open clearing where two sleek quads—futuristic in design and gleaming in the sunlight—were parked. They looked like something out of a sci-fi film, with smooth, aerodynamic lines and holographic controls.

Shuri, clearly in her element, hopped onto one of the bikes with ease. “Aren’t they beauties? Vibranium-powered of course, eco-friendly, and ridiculously fast.” She patted the handlebars of hers. “You’ll thank me later.”

As she excitedly hopped onto one and began rattling off specs, you noticed Bucky standing back, arms crossed, staring at the vehicle like it was some alien artifact. He crouched down, inspecting the engine with a furrowed brow, his metal fingers tapping lightly on the side as if trying to figure out its secrets.

“It’s not going to break down, old man,” you teased, watching him lean closer.

“I’m just saying,” he replied, gesturing to the sleek design. “Engines like these don’t look like they belong to anything real. Where’s the exhaust system? The carburetor? This thing looks like it’s from outer space.”

Shuri, standing next to her quad, rolled her eyes. “It’s vibranium-powered. No carburetors, no exhaust. Welcome to the 21st century, Grandpa.”

Bucky gave her a flat look. “I like machines I can understand. Motorcycles, for instance. You know, things that don’t look like they’re about to fly off into orbit.”

Shuri smirked, leaning casually against her quad. “Don’t worry, white boy. It’s not as fragile as your Harley. And you might even like it if you give it a chance. Just try not to overthink it, alright?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Bucky shook his head, muttering something about "vibranium death traps" under his breath.

Finally, he climbed onto his quad, still inspecting the handlebars as if they might suddenly sprout wings. “How’s it feel?” you asked, watching him warily test the controls.

“Like it’s about to insult my mother,” he muttered.

Shuri groaned. “Just start the thing! I promise you’ll survive.”

The ride began with a burst of speed as the quads hummed to life, their engines emitting a low, futuristic whirr that reverberated through the open air. The path wound through Wakanda’s breathtaking countryside, a kaleidoscope of vibrant greenery and golden sunlight that spilled across the landscape. Rolling hills stretched into the horizon, dotted with clusters of wildflowers in colors so vivid they looked almost unreal. Tall trees arched overhead, their bioluminescent leaves shimmering faintly in the soft light, as if breathing with life. Crystal-clear streams meandered alongside the trail, their waters catching the sunlight and scattering it like a thousand diamonds.

The air was crisp and cool, carrying the earthy scent of freshly turned soil mingled with the subtle sweetness of blooming flora. You breathed deeply, letting the scent wash over you as the wind whipped past.

“How’s it feel now?” Shuri called out, her voice cutting through the hum of the engines. She glanced back at Bucky, her tone half-challenging, half-playful.

Bucky, despite his earlier reservations, seemed more at ease now. His broad shoulders were less tense, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Not bad,” he admitted grudgingly, though his tone suggested he wasn’t about to heap praise on the machine just yet. The wind caught his hair, making him look a little less like the stoic soldier and more like someone who might actually be enjoying himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the rush of adrenaline making your heart race. “This is incredible! How fast can these go?”

“Fast enough to outrun your doubts, Sparky!” Shuri quipped, her grin evident even from a distance as she twisted the throttle and sped ahead.

The three of you carved your way through the trails, the quads kicking up soft plumes of dirt in their wake. Every so often, you paused to admire the scenery—expansive meadows that seemed to stretch forever, their grasses swaying lazily in the breeze, or ancient-looking rock formations jutting proudly from the earth like guardians of the past.

Shuri acted as a guide, pointing out landmarks with unrestrained enthusiasm. “That hill over there? It’s where some of the first Wakandan warriors trained with vibranium shields. And that tree? It’s older than most of the royal palace!” Her knowledge was infectious, her voice laced with pride and affection for her homeland.

Meanwhile, Bucky couldn’t seem to resist his inner mechanic. Every so often, he’d pull his quad to a halt and hop off, crouching down to inspect its parts like an overprotective grandparent. “These controls are too smooth. It’s like it’s driving itself,” he muttered at one point, tapping a finger against the engine casing.

“That’s because it is smart tech, white boy,” Shuri teased as she rolled up beside him. “Honestly, you’re acting like an old man trying to figure out a smartphone.”

Bucky shot her a withering look, but there was no heat behind it. “I’m just saying, machines like these don’t need to be this complicated. Give me a Harley, and I’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t long before the shenanigans began. Shuri, ever the troublemaker, led the charge.

“Think fast!” she shouted gleefully, swerving sharply to kick up a spray of dirt and grass that splattered across Bucky’s quad.

Bucky coughed, glaring at her as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket. “Seriously?”

“Just keeping you on your toes, Grandpa!” she replied, her laughter ringing out like music.

You decided to join the fun, veering your quad closer to Bucky’s and revving the engine in a sharp burst. He startled slightly, giving you a side-eye glare that quickly softened into something resembling reluctant amusement.

“You too?” he asked, his voice tinged with exasperation. “What is this, ‘Pick on Bucky’ Day?”

“Every day is ‘Pick on Bucky’ Day,” you teasingly shot back with a grin. “You’re just an easy target, old man.”

Not one to back down, Bucky suddenly accelerated, cutting you and Shuri off in one swift motion. “Alright, if that’s how you wanna play,” he said over his shoulder, his voice carrying the smallest hint of a challenge.

What followed was a chaotic race through the trails. The three of you took turns speeding ahead, cutting each other off, and kicking up clouds of dirt. Shuri, ever the daredevil, led you both through a narrow trail with low-hanging branches that forced you to duck and weave to avoid getting smacked in the face.

“You could’ve warned us, Shuri!” you shouted, laughing despite yourself as you narrowly avoided a branch.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she called back, her voice dripping with mischief.

Even Bucky started to loosen up, his posture relaxing as he swerved around a sharp corner with surprising skill. At one point, you caught him grinning—an unguarded, genuine smile that made him look years younger.

Eventually, the path widened, revealing a breathtaking scene. A shimmering lake stretched out before you, its surface reflecting the pastel hues of the early evening sky. Steam rose lazily from parts of the water, hinting at natural hot springs, while rocky cliffs framed the area like an artist’s masterpiece. A few open-air huts dotted the shoreline, their thatched roofs blending harmoniously with the natural surroundings.

Shuri pulled to a stop and hopped off her quad, stretching her arms overhead with a content sigh. “Welcome to paradise!” she announced grandly. “The water here is the perfect remedy for sore muscles—and bruised egos.” She shot a pointed look at Bucky, her grin as wide as ever.

“This is amazing,” you said, your gaze sweeping over the tranquil scene. “Did you plan this, Shuri?”

“Of course I did,” she replied smugly. “You think I’d let you two wander around aimlessly? Now, go ahead and enjoy yourselves.”

The lake was even more breathtaking up close. Crystal-clear water stretched out in a shimmering expanse, its surface rippling gently as steam curled upward from the edges of the natural hot springs. The rocky cliffs surrounding the area glistened with dew, the rock faces streaked with veins of vibrant minerals that reflected the fading light like jewels. Overhead, the sky deepened into a tapestry of purples and gold, scattered with stars beginning to peek through. The air here was warm and heavy with the scent of mineral springs and blooming wildflowers, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere.

A few open-air huts lined the shore, their thatched roofs blending seamlessly with the landscape. Inside, simple benches and woven baskets hinted at their purpose: a place to change or rest before enjoying the rejuvenating waters.

Shuri was already peeling off her outerwear to reveal a sleek bodysuit underneath, the kind of practical yet stylish attire that only Wakandan design could pull off. “Don’t just stand there gawking. The water’s calling, and I’m answering.” She didn’t wait for a response, striding toward the lake and stepping in without hesitation. “Perfect temperature, as always,” she called over her shoulder.

You watched her for a moment, then shrugged. “Why not?” You weren’t exactly prepared for a swim, but that wasn’t going to stop you. Stripping down to your underwear, you stepped into the water, the warmth spreading over your skin like a comforting embrace.

Bucky, however, stayed firmly on the shore, his arms crossed as he eyed the water warily. “I think I’ll sit this one out,” he muttered.

Shuri, already chest-deep in the water, shot him a look of mock disbelief. “What’s the matter, white boy? Afraid your arm’s gonna rust?”

Bucky raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “It’s titanium. It doesn’t rust.”

“Then you have no excuse!” Shuri countered, splashing water in his direction for good measure. “Come on, don’t be boring. Even Grandpa needs to have fun sometimes.”

You laughed, wading deeper into the water until it lapped at your shoulders. “She’s got a point, you know. What’s the worst that could happen? You’ll have fun?”

Bucky groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” you and Shuri said in unison.

Finally, with a muttered curse under his breath, Bucky relented. He pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing the solid planes of his chest and the intricate design of his titanium arm, which gleamed even in the dim light. He hesitated for a moment before removing his boots and pants, leaving him in just a pair of black briefs.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering over him before quickly looking away, your cheeks heating. Shuri, of course, caught it immediately.

“See something you like, Sparky?” she teased, her grin devilish as she waded closer.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, your attempt at nonchalance failing miserably, though your face betrayed you with its growing warmth.

Shuri wasn’t done, though. She tilted her head, the playful gleam in her eyes making you dread whatever she was about to say next. “Don’t worry about it. I saw him watching you earlier when you were stripping down, too.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes widening. “Shuri!”

“What?” she said with a shrug, her grin widening as she gestured toward Bucky, who was already halfway into the water and thankfully out of earshot. “I’m just saying, you’re not the only one doing some ogling tonight.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Why do you always have to do this?”

“Because it’s fun,” she replied with a wink. “And you’re just so easy to fluster. Besides, I’m practically doing you a favor. Now you know he’s looking.”

You peeked between your fingers, your gaze instinctively darting to Bucky, who was settling into the water. His broad shoulders gleamed under the dim light, and you hated how quickly your eyes lingered.

“You’re the worst,” you muttered, sinking lower into the water to hide your embarrassment.

Shuri’s laughter rang out, light and carefree. “You’re welcome!”

Bucky stepped into the water, his movements cautious at first, but he seemed to relax as the warmth enveloped him. “You two are insufferable,” he muttered, though the faintest hint of a smirk betrayed him.

“It doesn’t stop you from following us,” you shot back, splashing water in his direction.

What started as playful banter quickly devolved into a full-blown splash war. Shuri was the obvious instigator, as always, her cunning grin practically a warning sign as she cupped her hands and sent the first wave of water crashing toward you.

“You’re going down, Sparky!” she declared, her laughter echoing over the surface of the lake.

You retaliated immediately, scooping up water and hurling it back at her, though your aim wasn’t nearly as precise. “Oh, you want a fight? Let’s go, Princess!”

Bucky, who had been trying to stay out of the line of fire, quickly found himself dragged into the chaos. A rogue splash hit him square in the face, and he sputtered, shaking his head like a drenched dog.

“Is this what you call diplomacy?” Bucky grumbled as he shielded himself with his arm.

“Wakandan diplomacy is very hands-on,” Shuri replied, her laughter echoing across the lake.

“Alright, that’s it,” he muttered, his voice low and mock-menacing.

The next second, he sent an impressive arc of water flying in Shuri’s direction, catching her mid-laugh and soaking her from head to toe.

“Hey!” she yelped, wiping water from her eyes. “You’re gonna regret that, white boy!”

From that moment on, all bets were off. Shuri was the obvious victor, her technique unmatched as she sent wave after wave of water at you and Bucky. Her speed and agility made her nearly impossible to hit, and her laughter only seemed to grow louder with each successful attack.

You tried teaming up with Bucky to overpower her, but it was like trying to outsmart a hurricane. “We need a strategy!” you shouted, ducking behind Bucky for cover as Shuri sent another splash your way.

“Strategy?” Bucky replied, his brow furrowing in mock disbelief. “We’re in a lake. The only strategy here is survival!”

Shuri, grinning wickedly, used your moment of distraction to launch her most devastating attack yet—a double-handed splash that drenched you both in a massive wave.

“You call that survival?” she teased, her hands on her hips as she waded back a few steps, looking far too smug.

The water glistened around her like liquid silver, the bioluminescent glow of the surrounding foliage casting soft light on her triumphant form. You and Bucky exchanged a quick glance, a silent agreement passing between you.

“Truce?” you whispered.

“Truce,” he agreed, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Together, you turned on Shuri, launching a coordinated attack that finally managed to take her by surprise. She shrieked as two simultaneous waves of water hit her, but her laughter was still loud and carefree.

“Alright, alright! I concede!” she said, holding her hands up in surrender, though the grin on her face made it clear she wasn’t entirely serious. “But don’t think I’ll forget this, you two.”

The three of you stood there, panting and laughing, the water rippling gently around you as the tension of the day melted away into the cool embrace of the lake. It was a quiet haven, the cool water lapping gently at your skin, but Shuri’s excitement quickly shattered the calm.

“Alright, I’m bored now. Let’s play Pirate Ship,” she declared, her eyes shining with mischief. She swam toward you both, a playful grin tugging at her lips. “It’s a team game—just like chicken, but with a twist. One person is the pirate ship, and the other two are the crew with one trying to take it down and one giving it directions.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Pirate ship?”

“Yeah,” Shuri said, her voice full of energy. “It’s simple. Bucky, you’re the pirate ship. You’re the one we have to knock off balance.”

Bucky looked at her with a bemused smile. “I’m the pirate ship, huh? Alright, I’m game.”

Shuri turned to you. “And you’ll be the first crew member, perched on his arm like a lookout. I’m the second crew member, and my job is to throw you both off balance—knock you out of the game.”

Before Bucky could protest, Shuri swiftly lifted you from the water, her hands steady as she helped you onto Bucky’s broad, muscled arm. Your legs wrapped instinctively around his arm for balance, and you felt a rush of warmth at how strong and solid he felt beneath you. The water swirled around both of you, the gentle waves adding an extra challenge as you settled into place, hands gripping his shoulders for extra security.

“There we go,” Shuri smirked, positioning herself in front of the two of you. “Try not to fall off, pirate.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and determination. “I’ll hold my ground. Ready?”

You nodded, gripping Bucky’s shoulder with a steady hand, trying to ignore the flutter of your heart as you realized just how close the two of you were—your body pressed to his in the stillness of the water, your chest lightly brushing against his, and his steady arm holding you firmly in place. You had to concentrate, but your mind kept wandering back to the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers.

Shuri lunged at you first, attempting to knock Bucky off balance. She was quick and agile in the water, and her first attempt sent a shiver of movement through Bucky’s body. But he held strong, his arm steady beneath you, his muscles tightening as he countered her push. You gasped slightly as you leaned into him for support, feeling the strength of his body underneath yours. His hand rested on your knee as he held you in place, his grip firm but gentle, like he was guiding you through a delicate dance.

“Easy there, Buck’,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper, just for him. “You’re doing great.”

Bucky shot you a playful grin, but there was something deeper in his gaze—a quiet intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “I’ve got this,” he muttered, voice low, as he took a step forward, shifting his weight just enough to keep himself balanced.

Shuri’s second attempt was faster, a blur of motion as she surged forward, trying to get a grip on Bucky’s shoulder. You felt your balance teeter as the water surged around you, but Bucky’s hand shot out just in time, pulling you back into place. His fingers brushed against your skin as he steadied you, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“You’re not getting us that easily,” Bucky murmured, his voice surprisingly husky as his eyes flickered down to you, searching your face for any sign that he was doing okay. The warmth in his gaze was undeniable, and for a moment, you forgot where you were, lost in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you, the closeness of your bodies, the way he was so careful with you.

But before you could respond, Shuri lunged at him one more time. This time, her strategy was sharper and more aggressive, and Bucky’s arm gave way under the pressure. You lost your balance as Shuri grabbed hold of his shoulder, throwing both of you off-kilter. The next thing you knew, you were slipping from his arm and tumbling backward into the water with a splash.

The cold water shocked your senses for a moment, but before you could even panic, strong arms encircled you, pulling you back to the surface. You found yourself face-to-face with Bucky, his hands steadying you as he kept you afloat. His blue eyes locked onto yours with a quiet intensity, his breath warm against your skin as you both clung to the moment.

“You good, dove?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, the hint of concern there, though you knew he wasn’t worried about anything other than making sure you were okay.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as your heart raced. “Yeah, just… didn’t expect you to catch me like that,” you said, your voice quieter now, as if the game was suddenly secondary to the warmth of his presence.

Bucky’s hand remained on your waist, a steadying anchor as you floated together, the water around you both barely making a sound. He didn’t pull away, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded—the playful banter, the game, the world itself. It was just you and him, suspended in time, your chest brushing lightly against his as you shared a quiet moment in the lake.

Shuri's teasing voice sliced through the comfortable silence that had settled around you and Bucky, her tone playful and laced with mischief. “Aww, isn’t this romantic,” she called from where she bobbed lazily in the water, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she floated a little too close, clearly enjoying the moment a bit too much. “But we should probably head back. Sunrise isn’t going to wait for you lovebirds.”

The spell that had wrapped around you and Bucky shattered in an instant. You felt the weight of the moment break as Shuri’s words brought a flurry of laughter bubbling to the surface. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to gather your bearings, feeling the playful spark of the moment slip away, yet, in a way, you didn’t mind. It was impossible to stay serious when Shuri’s teasing grin was so infectious.

You groaned, letting out a dramatic sigh as you pushed yourself upright in the water. “Let’s go, white boy. Don’t want you rusting after all,” you teased, your voice light but still holding onto the warmth of the moment.

Bucky’s eyes rolled at the nickname, but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He turned to you, his blue eyes glinting with a playful challenge. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna call me that too.”

You grinned back, your heart still fluttering from the closeness you’d shared. “Impossible,” you replied with a wink. “I like the sound of it.”

Bucky gave you an exaggerated sigh, his hand reaching up to run through his damp hair as he shook his head. “I swear, I’m surrounded by trouble,” he muttered under his breath, but there was no malice behind his words—just a quiet affection that spoke volumes, even if it was wrapped in sarcasm.

Despite his mock grumbling, he followed your lead, swimming toward the shore. You matched his pace, your muscles still pleasantly sore from the game, but the gentle push of the water made it feel like the whole world was moving in slow motion. The distance between you and Bucky narrowed as you both swam side by side, the warmth of his presence a silent comfort, even with Shuri’s teasing commentary still echoing in the background.

Shuri, of course, didn’t let up. “You two make quite the pair,” she called, paddling along next to you. “I might need to start charging for this level of entertainment.” Her voice was full of laughter, but there was something else there too—an undercurrent of fondness for both of you, as if she was delighted by the connection she could clearly see growing between you and the soldier.

You shot her a playful glare. “Don’t make me make you regret learning how to swim.”

Her grin widened. “What’s the saying the white folks say again? Ah yes, ‘shiver me timbers’.”

Bucky let out a low chuckle beside you, the sound soothing and warm, as if he was finally letting the earlier teasing roll off his shoulders. The smirk he gave you was enough to make your heart skip again, the quiet moment of camaraderie between the three of you filling the air.

As the shoreline grew closer, Bucky’s smirk softened, and his expression turned a little more serious, though not in an uncomfortable way. He gave you a side glance, his voice quieter now, and tinged with something almost shy. “Thanks, by the way,” he said, his tone laced with sincerity. “For, you know, hanging in there with me.”

You blinked, surprised by the soft vulnerability in his words. “Of course, Bucky,” you said, your voice gentle. “You didn’t think I’d leave you hanging, did you?”

Bucky met your gaze, the softness in his eyes matching the quiet connection you felt. “I wouldn’t put it past you,” he teased lightly, but there was warmth behind it. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

For a moment, you simply floated there, the water still and peaceful around you, the air filled with unspoken understanding. Bucky had always been a complicated puzzle, but right here, right now, it felt like you were finally starting to fit together.

Shuri, ever the interrupter, glanced over at the two of you with a knowing look. “Alright, alright,” she said, pushing herself up from the water as she began heading toward the shore. “You two are sickeningly cute, but seriously, we should get going before we turn into fish.”

Bucky took a look at you, and this time, the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips was genuine, not mocking, but something softer—something real. “Lead the way, little one,” he said with a grin, his voice warm and affectionate as he gestured for Shuri to go ahead.

⠀

The day’s warmth lingered as you and Shuri made your way to the huts nearby, your bodies tired but relaxed from the playful lake game. The sky was beginning to darken, hinting at the coming sunrise, and there was a subtle excitement in the air—soon you’d be heading straight to the palace.

As you reached the hut, you noticed the men’s and women’s changing areas were naturally sex-separate, allowing for a quiet moment of privacy before the more formal events began. You started to step inside your designated hut, but Shuri held you back with a mischievous grin on her face.

“Wait up, Sparky,” she said, her voice dripping with playful curiosity. “We need to talk.”

You raised an eyebrow but followed her inside the small, private space. “About what?”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Shuri replied, giving you a knowing look as she crossed her arms. “I saw the way you and Bucky were looking at each other out there. That moment—the way he held you steady. You two have something going on, don’t you?”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “We’re just friends, Shuri. Nothing more.”

She tilted her head to the side, unconvinced. “Friends, huh?” she said, dragging out the word. “Then why do I sense a little more than that? Hmm? You didn’t look like ‘just friends’ when you were practically on top of him in the water.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

You let out a soft groan, trying to hide the warmth in your cheeks. “Shuri, we’re really just friends. We’ve known each other for a while now.”

Her eyes widened with exaggerated interest. “Oh? Tell me everything. How did this magical friendship start?”

You took a deep breath, trying to focus. “Well, it’s not all that exciting. I first met Bucky during a workout session at the compound—he was just sitting off to the side, hydrating or whatever. I’d been working out with some of the agents, and I was parched, so I grabbed a bottle of water. I didn’t notice him at first, but when I went to leave, I accidentally bumped into him, spilling some of the water on him.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. “I was mortified, but he just laughed it off, saying, ‘You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.’ It was such a small, funny moment, but I remember it so clearly.”

Shuri leaned in, clearly intrigued. “That’s it? That’s how the great Sparky and the white boy became friends?”

You nodded. “Pretty much. But we ended up running into each other again a few months later when we were both assigned to the same mission. It wasn’t planned or anything. Our superiors noticed how naturally we clicked, so after that, they kept putting us together. We just kind of... became friends after that.”

Shuri raised her eyebrows, clearly amused. “Became friends, huh?” She shook her head with a smirk. “There’s something you’re not telling me. The way you two interact is way too comfortable for just a friendship.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “There’s nothing else. Trust me, we’re just close friends who get along well. He’s been through a lot, and I get it. I’m just... here for him. That’s all.”

Shuri didn’t look convinced. She started pacing back and forth, tapping her chin. “Hmm, well, I’m still not buying it. You two have some serious chemistry, whether you admit it or not. You’re telling me that’s all just... friendship?” She exaggerated the word with air quotes.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Shuri quickly cut you off. “I won’t let you leave this hut until you spill the tea. You can’t hide behind your ‘just friends’ act forever, Sparky.” She grinned playfully, clearly enjoying herself.

You groaned again, feeling the heat rise to your face. “Fine. There was a... moment, but that’s it. He just... makes me feel comfortable. It’s hard to explain.”

Your cheeks burned at the remembrance of that embarrassing move you’d unconsciously pulled. The kiss to his cheek—it had been a simple, spontaneous act of gratitude, but now, in the quiet of your room, you felt your heart race at the memory.

The day had been long, and you found yourself in your quarters, trying to unwind after an exhausting debrief. As your gaze wandered, it landed on something familiar—an old mechanical wristwatch sitting on your desk. It was an heirloom, passed down through your family, and it had always been a symbol of resilience to you. But recently, it had been failing—stopping intermittently, refusing to tick when it should, and making it clear that it needed repair.

You had tried to fix it yourself, but no luck. You hadn’t wanted to take it to the techs; it was too personal. You’d quietly hoped it might somehow start working on its own, but it never did.

That evening, after dinner, you placed it down on the desk and ran your fingers over its familiar face, as if trying to find some connection to the past. But just as you set it aside, a knock at your door startled you.

Opening it, you were surprised to see Bucky standing there. A tool kit was slung over his shoulder, his usual quiet but determined expression on his face.

"Hey," he greeted you with a small, awkward smile. "I—I saw the watch earlier. Thought it might need a little... tune-up."

You blinked, taken aback for a moment. "Bucky? You... know about watches?"

He shrugged slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "More than a few, yeah. Before... well, before everything happened, I worked on mechanical things. Cars, watches, motorcycles—anything with gears."

You raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "You're telling me you're not just a soldier, but a mechanic too?"

He chuckled softly, a slight warmth in his eyes. "Not just. I used to spend a lot of time fixing things. Figured I might be able to help."

You gestured toward the desk, where the watch lay, still as ever. You hadn't realized just how much you'd been staring at it, silently wishing it could work again.

"I didn’t expect you to notice it," you said quietly, moving to pick it up. "But I—I can’t seem to fix it myself."

Bucky stepped inside and set down his tool kit, his movements slow and deliberate as he began working on the watch. His fingers were steady, his focus intense. There was a calmness in the way he worked, similar to how he handled everything else—with precision and care. But this was different. He wasn’t handling a weapon; he was working on something delicate, something important to you.

The rhythmic sound of his hands moving as he adjusted the gears filled the room. You watched him, the quiet and his attention to detail stirring something deeper in you. The way his brow furrowed in concentration, how his fingers moved without hesitation—it wasn’t just about fixing the watch. It was something more.

“How’d you learn to do this?” you asked softly, your voice quieter now, full of curiosity.

“I had to,” he replied, his gaze still fixed on the watch. “In the army, you don’t always have what you need. I learned how to fix whatever I could get my hands on.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing his words. There was something different about the way he spoke—like every skill, every moment he’d lived, had shaped him into who he was now. This wasn’t the Bucky you were used to—the soldier with a shield or the man in battle. This was another side of him, a gentler one, one that didn’t require fighting to prove his worth.

After a few minutes, Bucky stopped working, his eyes meeting yours as he gave you a small smile. "All fixed."

You carefully took the watch from his hands and examined it. The hands were moving again, ticking steadily, as if it had never been broken. When you reached to take it, your fingers brushed against his for just a moment, and the world seemed to slow. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze—his blue eyes locked with yours, and there was something in the air, unspoken but understood.

You broke the silence, your voice soft but sincere. "You really didn’t have to," you said, still holding the watch in your hands, its ticking now a steady comfort. "But thank you, James. This means a lot."

Bucky’s gaze softened, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It was nothing. I’m glad I could help."

You stood up, the watch still in your hand, and took a small step toward him. The space between you felt charged now, electric. Without really thinking, you leaned in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to his cheek—just a brush of gratitude, but it felt more than that. The gesture lingered longer than you intended.

The moment you pulled away, you realized your mistake. Bucky stood frozen for a moment, his eyes wide, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. For a split second, the room was thick with unspoken tension, and the heat of his gaze made your heart race. You couldn't look at him.

"I—uh—well," he stammered, clearing his throat. "I didn’t expect that."

You quickly regained your composure, your heart still pounding, but your voice steady. "You fixed something important to me. I wanted to show my thanks," you said, though you could feel the rush of warmth on your cheeks. "You’ve done more than I could’ve ever expected."

Bucky’s expression softened, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. He nodded, though he couldn’t quite meet your gaze. "You’re welcome, dove," he said, his voice low. "Anytime."

Your cheeks were still burning, and you quickly opened your arms, pulling him into a quick, grateful hug. It was over in an instant, but his warmth lingered in the space between you. When you pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel the heat of his presence.

"Thank you," you said again, quieter now, more to yourself than to him. "For everything."

Bucky nodded but didn’t speak. His soft smile returned, but there was something else in his eyes—something deeper, like words weren’t enough. He didn’t say anything more as he turned to leave, but as he stepped out, you opened the door and hastily shut it behind him, your heart still pounding in your chest. You leaned against it, eyes closed, feeling the rush of blood in your face and the thick, lingering tension that had settled in your room. You didn’t know what had just happened, but one thing was certain: that kiss had shifted something between you both. And now, you weren’t sure what to do about it.

You shook your head, as if to chase the thought away. Shuri nodded sagely, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I knew it! Something’s going on.” She gave you a dramatic wink. “Don’t worry, I won’t force you to admit anything else. But mark my words, Sparky—there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

Before you could say anything else, Shuri clapped her hands together, grabbing your attention. “Now, enough of this. You look like you need something to wear for the palace. I’ve got just the thing.”

You blinked, confused. “The palace? Aren’t we heading there soon?”

Shuri grinned. “Yes, and no offense, but what you were wearing isn’t quite appropriate. You’re heading into Wakandan royal territory, and I’m not going to let you go in looking like a tourist.” She quickly rummaged through a nearby chest, pulling out an intricately designed outfit. “Here, you’ll look stunning in this. It’s cultural, beautiful, and fits with the royal occasion.”

You took a step back, eyeing the garment she handed you. It was a royal Wakandan-style dress, the fabric shimmering with patterns that reflected the country’s rich heritage. The deep blues and golds complemented your skin tone perfectly, and the intricate beadwork along the neckline made it clear that this wasn’t just a casual outfit—it was something special.

“This is beautiful,” you said, genuinely touched by her thoughtfulness. “But are you sure I can wear this?”

Shuri shrugged. “Of course. You’re as much a part of this country as anyone. Don’t even think about it. This will be perfect for the palace.”

As you changed into the dress, Shuri stood by, watching you with a playful grin. “You know, I bet Bucky’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in that.”

You shot her a warning look. “Shuri, stop.”

But she was already walking out the door, clearly satisfied with her teasing. “I’ll meet you outside, Sparky. We’ll make an entrance, trust me.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you finished getting ready, feeling a strange mix of nervous excitement as you adjusted the dress. Shuri’s antics aside, something about the night ahead felt different. The palace awaited, and you had a feeling that no matter what happened next, things between you and Bucky were going to shift, one way or another.

You stepped outside the hut, feeling the cool air of the evening settle around you as you made your way toward the gathering area. The sunset painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the land, the fading light reflecting off the distant peaks of the mountains. The air was thick with the scent of earth and flowers, the transition from day to night making everything feel a little more magical.

As you reached the edge of the clearing, you spotted Bucky standing there, his back to you. He was dressed in a traditional Wakandan outfit as well—his dark attire highlighted with silver accents, the intricate patterns on his chest and sleeves shimmering under the dying light. The fabric seemed to move with him, like it was alive, giving him an almost regal presence.

Your breath caught in your throat. There was something about the way he looked tonight—so different from the soldier you knew. The colors of his outfit and the strong but gentle lines of his form made him appear like he belonged here, among royalty and tradition. The fading light of the sunset seemed to soften the sharp edges of his usual demeanor, and in that moment, he didn’t look like someone haunted by his past, but rather, someone who had found a place in this world.

He turned as he heard your footsteps, his eyes immediately locking with yours. For a moment, neither of you moved. The setting sun illuminated his features, casting a warm glow across his face, making the familiar blue of his eyes stand out even more.

“You look… great, dove,” he said, his voice low and sincere, his gaze never leaving you.

You felt your heart flutter, the intensity of his words making your cheeks flush. Before you could think of anything to say, Shuri appeared at your side, her grin wide as she observed the exchange. “Told you,” she whispered under her breath, clearly pleased with the effect your appearance had on him.

You swallowed, trying to steady your nerves as you turned toward the palace. The walk ahead felt like a new chapter—one you weren’t sure how it would unfold, but you couldn’t help but feel that whatever happened next, it would change everything. And just as you and Bucky walked together toward the palace, the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky painted with the soft colors of twilight, as if the world itself was holding its breath.

⠀

The grandeur of Wakanda’s capital was one of the many things that could never fail to take your breath away. Towering structures of gleaming stone and glass rose from the earth, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. The skyline shimmered with a blend of advanced technology and rich tradition, a city that harmonized its ancestral heritage with cutting-edge innovation. The air was heavy with the scent of spices and incense, mingling with the hum of machinery that made everything in Wakanda run with such fluid precision.

You couldn’t help but notice the vibrant markings on the faces of the people you passed, intricate designs painted in vivid colors that told stories of their lineage, their roles, and their connection to the land. It was clear that no one here was simply a passerby. Every person had a story, a purpose. The colors marked their identity, their culture, and their pride.

As you entered the palace, the sheer scale of the hall left you speechless. Massive stone columns rose to the ceiling, adorned with vibrant carvings that depicted the history of Wakanda—their ancestors, their battles, and their triumphs. Statues of past rulers and revered warriors stood solemnly along the walls, some holding ceremonial spears, others adorned with colorful beads, each symbolizing a different tribe’s history and honor. In the center of the room, massive holographic displays flickered to life, depicting abstract representations of Wakanda’s values—its strength, its unity, and its future. The air was electric, a seamless blend of tradition and technology.

You could feel the weight of Wakanda's history in every corner of the room. The way the ancient stone floor felt cool beneath your feet, and the vibranium that coursed through the very walls of the palace, pulsing with life. A soft, melodic hum filled the room, as if the palace itself was alive, welcoming all who entered.

The large hall of the palace was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, which streamed through massive windows, casting intricate patterns of light on the stone floors. The air was thick with anticipation, as the people of Wakanda gathered to witness the beginning of a new chapter in the history of their nation. The room was a perfect fusion of old and new: towering statues of past kings and queens stood side by side with holographic displays that shimmered with information, adding a layer of modernity to the ancient stone.

Wakandan warriors, adorned in ceremonial attire, stood at the edges of the room, their bodies marked with vibrant paints and designs that spoke to their clans, their history, and their strength. The designs were no simple decoration—each stroke carried meaning, telling a story of survival, legacy, and honor. The air was thick with the weight of tradition and culture, yet there was an unmistakable hum of technology coursing through the space. It was as if the room itself was alive, blending the spiritual and the technological into a perfect harmony.

In the center of the hall, a large circular platform had been set up, its surface marked with more designs—symbols of unity, power, and transformation. It was here that the ceremony would take place, where the destinies of two outsiders would intertwine with that of Wakanda. The people of Wakanda stood with reverence, waiting in hushed silence, as their king, T'Challa, walked to the front.

T’Challa’s presence commanded the room. The black panther suit that adorned him, regal and imposing, made it clear that he was both a warrior and a king. As he took his place, his eyes scanned the room, filled with pride for his people. He held the wisdom of his ancestors, yet there was a modern sensibility in his leadership. Today, he was not just a monarch; he was a protector of those who had fought for his country, and he was about to welcome new members into that fold.

At his side stood Shuri, her vibrant energy a stark contrast to the quiet strength of her brother. Okoye, standing at attention beside them, watched the crowd with a protective gaze, while M'Baku’s massive form loomed at the far side of the hall, his powerful presence impossible to miss.

And then, seated on a throne of gold and ebony, was the Queen Mother—Ramonda. Her regal presence exuded wisdom and compassion, a mother’s strength tempered by years of experience. She was a queen not just by birth, but by the force of her will, her calm demeanor a guiding light for the nation. Her eyes, sharp yet filled with warmth, scanned the crowd, but when they landed on you and Bucky, there was a spark of something deeper—a recognition of the weight of their journey, and the transformation that lay ahead.

Flanking her were several elders and respected leaders of Wakanda, each dressed in ceremonial garb and bearing the weight of their wisdom and responsibility. Shuri stood at your side, her grin wide as she observed the ceremony. She had been teasing you and Bucky ever since you’d arrived, her excitement palpable, but now, even she seemed to hold a reverence for what was about to take place.

The Queen’s gaze shifted between you and Bucky, her expression unreadable, before she spoke, her voice resonating like a deep, soothing melody. “Welcome to the heart of Wakanda, White Wolf, and Silver Fox.”

The words hit you both like a wave.

The ceremony began slowly, with the sound of a drumbeat filling the air, its rhythmic thumping echoing through the hall. The drummers, positioned at the back of the room, beat in time with the energy building in the space. Their rhythm matched the heartbeat of Wakanda itself, steady and unwavering.

As the drumbeats echoed, the elder who had been tasked with guiding the ceremony stepped forward, holding a sacred artifact—an intricately carved bowl, filled with a shimmering powder that seemed to catch the light. The elder held the bowl high, and the people of Wakanda rose in unison, chanting softly in a language older than time itself. The chants reverberated throughout the hall, weaving a sense of unity among everyone present.

T'Challa's voice broke through the chants, strong and steady. "Today, we gather not just to honor two individuals, but to witness the transformation of the past into the future." His words were simple, but they carried the weight of history. "James Buchanan Barnes, you stand before us, not as a man shackled by your past, but as a hero who has chosen to fight for the future."

Bucky, standing tall beside you, felt the eyes of everyone in the room upon him. His expression was resolute, though his hands clenched slightly at his sides. He had come a long way from the man he had once been—the Winter Soldier, lost to Hydra’s control—but now, surrounded by the people of Wakanda, he stood as a new man, a free man.

An elder approached Bucky with a pendant in the shape of a wolf’s head, crafted from the finest Vibranium. The pendant shimmered in the light, catching the glow of the surrounding candles. It was a symbol of his rebirth, his transformation into the White Wolf, the protector of Wakanda, and a man who had reclaimed his humanity.

As the elder placed the pendant around Bucky’s neck, he spoke softly but powerfully. "We welcome you into our legacy, White Wolf. This pendant, forged from Vibranium, will be your guide. It will protect you, strengthen you, and remind you of the path you have chosen. With this symbol, you become not only a part of Wakanda’s legacy, but a part of its future."

The elder then applied ceremonial markings, bright red and gold, to Bucky’s metal arm. Each stroke was precise and deliberate, representing his journey, his struggle, and his victory. The markings were a blend of art and function, combining ancient tradition with the advanced technology of Wakanda. The Vibranium in his arm shimmered with new energy, reflecting the changes that had taken place within him. The pendant and the markings on his arm connected him not just to the country, but to the people, grounding him in his new identity as the White Wolf.

When the ceremony for Bucky concluded, the elder moved to you, and the room’s energy shifted. Your heart raced in your chest as you felt the weight of the moment. The people’s eyes were now on you, waiting, watching. T'Challa’s gaze, though warm and respectful, carried the strength of a king. There was no denying that your journey had been just as profound, if not more so.

The elder, holding a beautiful bracelet crafted from Vibranium, stepped forward. They called your full name in a solemn tone, "Your resilience, your strength, and your unwavering commitment to healing are a testament to the power of the human spirit. You have fought for your freedom, for your people, and for those you hold dear. Today, we honor you as one of ours, Silver Fox."

The elder gently placed the bracelet on your wrist, the Vibranium glowing faintly under the light, as if responding to your very presence. The designs on the bracelet mirrored the ones etched into Bucky’s pendant—symbols of strength, transformation, and unity.

"As this bracelet binds you to Wakanda," the elder continued, "so do your actions bind us all to a future of hope and healing. You are now a part of this land, and this land is now a part of you. You, too, have earned your place in Wakanda’s future."

You bowed your head in gratitude, humbled by the honor bestowed upon you. The people of Wakanda stood once again, this time not only recognizing Bucky’s bravery but acknowledging your strength and resilience.

T'Challa then stepped forward, his voice firm and resolute as he addressed the room. "Today, we honor those who have shown us what it means to fight for something greater than ourselves. Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf, and [Y/N] [L/N], the Silver Fox. You have proven yourselves worthy of our respect, and of our future." His eyes flicked to you both, and there was something in his gaze that spoke of the trials ahead, but also of the hope that lay within them.

The Queen Mother, Ramonda, rose from her throne, her presence commanding the room’s attention. She was dressed in an elegant yet powerful gown of deep green and gold, the fabric flowing like a river of life, and her crown glinted with the subtle beauty of Vibranium inlay. Her eyes, filled with the wisdom of ages, fell on you both, and you felt the weight of her gaze, a mix of authority and nurturing kindness.

"Your journeys are not your own," Queen Ramonda’s voice rang out, deep and steady. "You stand here today not only for yourselves, but for the generations that will come after you. The strength you’ve shown, the resilience you've demonstrated, is a gift to Wakanda. And so, we recognize you—not just as individuals, but as part of our family, part of the legacy of this great land."

With her words, you felt something deep within you stir—a connection not just to Wakanda, but to a greater purpose. She smiled gently at both you and Bucky before turning back to the assembly. "It is my honor to welcome you both, [Y/N] and Bucky, into the heart of Wakanda. You are family now, and we will stand together, as one."

As the ceremony came to a close, Shuri flashed you a wide grin. "Told you it would be unforgettable," she said, stepping forward with an impish smile. Okoye, ever the protector, nodded approvingly, and even M'Baku gave a brief but respectful nod in your direction.

The air hummed with pride, unity, and the undeniable sense that this was only the beginning of something much larger. The ceremony had concluded, but the festivities were only just beginning. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the grand hall was transformed into a vibrant celebration of life, culture, and unity. Candles flickered in every corner, casting a warm glow over the room, while musicians began to play a lively rhythm on drums, flutes, and other traditional instruments. The sound of the drums reverberated in your chest, a deep, powerful beat that seemed to carry the very spirit of Wakanda.

You stood near the edge of the hall, still processing the significance of the ceremony and the honor bestowed upon you. The weight of the Vibranium bracelet on your wrist was a constant reminder of the new chapter in your life. But for now, the room buzzed with the energy of celebration. Laughter and chatter filled the air as people from all walks of life came together to rejoice in the moment.

Bucky, standing beside you, was visibly more relaxed now, a small smile on his face as he looked around the room. His hands were still touching the pendant around his neck, the wolf’s head symbol of his new identity. You could see that the ceremony had meant a great deal to him—this was more than just a formality; it was a true rebirth for him.

“Do you know how to dance?” you asked, nudging him playfully.

Bucky chuckled softly, looking at the dancers in the center of the room. “I’d like to think so but it’s been a little over fifty years since I’ve done some, so don’t expect much,” he replied with a grin. “But I think I could manage, with a little help.”

Before you could respond, a burst of laughter rang out behind you. Shuri had bounded over, her excitement infectious. She had already shed her ceremonial attire and was now in a more casual outfit, her vibrant energy still radiating from her. “Come, Silver Fox, don’t just stand there!” she called. “Join us! It’s time to dance!”

You hesitated, but Shuri grabbed your hand, pulling you into the center of the room. The music grew louder, faster, and the rhythm was infectious. The Wakandan dancers, moving gracefully in perfect harmony, invited you to join in. You couldn’t help but smile at the warmth of the moment, the energy of the people around you making it hard to stay still.

Shuri spun around with ease, and for a moment, you lost yourself in the beat, the swirl of vibrant colors, and the ancient movements. The dance wasn’t just about rhythm—it was a celebration of culture, a connection to the land, and a testament to Wakanda’s resilience. Each step was a piece of history, passed down from generation to generation, and you could feel the weight of it all in every motion.

During the dance, you caught a glimpse of T'Challa and Queen Ramonda standing nearby, both watching the celebration with approving smiles. T'Challa, his posture regal and composed, caught your eye and gave you a small nod, his expression warm. Queen Ramonda stood beside him, her presence as commanding as ever, but her face was soft as she watched the joy unfolding around her. Okoye stood off to the side, watching over everyone with a watchful gaze, her arms crossed over her chest but a small smile tugging at her lips. Even M'Baku, usually so stoic and serious, was tapping his foot to the beat, a twinkle of enjoyment in his eyes.

Shuri, not one to be outdone, suddenly appeared in front of you, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “You’re doing well, Sparky,” she said, before twirling around and laughing. “But I bet I could teach you a thing or two.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Princess?”

Shuri grinned devilishly. “Oh, you bet it is.” She spun once more before turning to Bucky with a playful look. “Hey, White Wolf! You’ve got nothing on me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of his new title. “You know,” he said with a hint of amusement, “I think I preferred ‘White Boy.’”

Shuri paused, a mock gasp escaping her lips. “Mother, do you hear this? He’s insulting his own nickname!” she exclaimed dramatically, throwing her hands up. “White Wolf is majestic, regal, a perfect representation of his new identity. White Boy? What is this, a beach vacation?”

Queen Ramonda, who had been watching the exchange with a knowing smile, let out a soft chuckle. “Shuri, dear, you are always so dramatic,” she said, her tone affectionate but firm. “Perhaps White Wolf has more gravitas, but White Boy has its charm. There’s no harm in both.”

Shuri huffed, but there was no real anger in her tone. “I’ll have to get used to it, I suppose. But mark my words, Mother—White Boy had a much better ring to it. It's simple and to the point.”

T'Challa, who had been listening to the exchange, chuckled softly. "Let us leave the nicknames to Shuri, shall we? As long as it brings honor to the warrior, that is all that matters." His voice carried an amused but gentle authority.

The conversation shifted to lighter matters as Shuri and T'Challa continued to banter back and forth, with Queen Ramonda watching over them, her serene smile never faltering. The warmth between the family was palpable, a testament to their unity and shared history. Even Okoye, who typically kept her distance from casual conversations, seemed to relax a little, her lips quirking up at the sight of the playful exchanges.

The music swirled around you as the dancing continued, and for a moment, everything seemed to blur into a whirl of color and rhythm. You found yourself moving with the flow of the crowd, caught up in the energy of it all. But even amidst the revelry, your eyes kept drifting back to Bucky.

He was standing a little off to the side now, watching the dancers with a small, amused smile on his face. His usual guarded demeanor had melted away in the warmth of the celebration, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying the moment, despite his earlier hesitations about dancing.

You caught his eye and, with a playful grin, motioned for him to join you. “Come on, White Wolf,” you teased, using his new title with a grin. “You’re just standing there. Time to show off those moves.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. “I told you, I’m rusty in my moves.”

“No excuses,” you countered, pulling him gently into the center of the room, where the dancers had formed a loose circle. You had no idea what you were doing, but that didn’t matter. The important part was being together, in the moment. “If I can do it, you can too.”

He laughed, but the sound was warm, genuine. “Alright, alright,” he said, his tone soft and amused. “You’ve got me.”

With a deep breath, he tried to mimic some of the movements you were making, his arms stiff at first, his steps slightly offbeat. But something was endearing about his attempts—he wasn’t exactly graceful, but his effort was enough to make you smile. You found yourself laughing along with him, not in mockery, but in genuine joy.

“Not bad, not bad,” you said, teasing him as you twirled away from him before pulling him back. “You just need a little more flair.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Flair? I thought we were just supposed to move to the beat.”

“Moving to the beat with flair is a whole different level,” you said, laughing again. You grabbed his hand, leading him into a spin that ended with you both standing close together. His breath caught for a moment, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he looked down at you, his eyes soft.

Bucky’s smile softened, his blue eyes locking with yours. “Hey, I’m—uh, I’m glad I am here. With you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit breathless. You reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, your fingers lingering just a moment longer. “I’m glad, too.”

As you moved together in the dance, a perfect balance of lightheartedness and closeness, everything else seemed to fade away. The music, the laughter, the people around you—none of it mattered. At that moment, there was only the two of you. No past, no struggles. Just the here and now.

Bucky chuckled softly, breaking the silence between you two with a playful glint in his eyes. “You know, I think I’m starting to remember this whole dancing thing. Might have to make it a regular occurrence.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Only if you promise to keep improving.”

He smirked. “Deal. But only if you promise to keep dragging me onto the dance floor every time.”

With a laugh, you leaned in just slightly, your face a little closer to his than it had been before. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The music swirled on, and it felt like the world had slowed down just for you two. As you both continued to dance, laughter and warmth filling the space between you, there was a simple, undeniable truth—you were exactly where you were meant to be. Together.

⠀

After a long and eventful evening, you found yourself in the quiet of your apartment, the warm evening air of June drifting in through the open balcony doors. The sounds of the city—distant chatter, the hum of cars, and the occasional burst of laughter—filled the background, soothing in its familiarity. You were curled up on one of the loveseats facing the starry night, a book in your lap and a plate of strawberry-covered chocolates within arm’s reach. The soft light from the moon illuminated the pages of your book, but you found your mind drifting more to the stars than to the words.

You heard the faint sound of a door creaking open, followed by the soft thud of footsteps. Looking up, you saw Bucky standing there in the doorway, his dark hair still slightly damp from his shower. He wore a simple pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt—his version of pajamas, just as casual and comfortable as yours. His gaze softened as he spotted you, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest.

“Hey, Silver Fox, you planning on eating all those by yourself?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in playful accusation as he crossed the room toward you.

You grinned, raising the plate slightly. “I might. They’re too good to share.”

Bucky chuckled, taking a seat next to you, his gaze flicking to the plate of chocolates. “Strawberries, huh? You know, if you keep eating those, you might turn into one.”

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “I could think of worse things.” You reached for one and popped it into your mouth, savoring the sweet, decadent taste. “Want one?”

He hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “Why not?” He reached for one of the chocolates, biting into it with a smile. “Guess I can’t resist.”

The two of you sat there for a moment, enjoying the peaceful quiet of the night, the only sound being the rustling of the pages of your book and the occasional crunch of chocolate. Bucky seemed to be content just being there with you, as if this simple moment of normalcy was something he hadn’t realized he needed.

“Do you ever think about what we’ve been through?” you asked after a while, your voice soft but steady. You didn’t look at him immediately, but you felt his attention shift as he processed the question.

Bucky let out a long breath, his gaze drifting to the stars. “All the time,” he said quietly. “Some days it feels like I can’t escape it… like I’m still trapped in that past. Like it’s following me.”

You nodded slowly, understanding the weight of his words. You’d been there, in that same mental prison. “It’s hard,” you said, your voice low. “I spent so many years running from my past, trying to forget what I was made to do. But you know what? You’re not defined by what happened to you. You’re defined by what you do now. Who you choose to be now.”

Bucky’s eyes flicked toward you, searching your face as if trying to read the sincerity in your words. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep moving forward some days,” he said, his voice tight with a rawness you hadn’t heard from him before.

“You are,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze. “You’ve already taken the hardest step—admitting that you need help, that you want to change. That’s the hardest part. The rest will come with time. You’re not that man anymore. You’re the White Wolf. You’re… you.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, it was like the weight on his shoulders lifted just slightly. He let out a breath, glancing down at his hands before meeting your eyes again. “I never thought I’d get a title like that,” he said with a small chuckle. “I mean, who would have thought Bucky Barnes, a guy who can’t even remember most of his own life, would end up with a ceremony and a nickname like that?”

You smiled, leaning back into the cushions. “I think it suits you,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “I think White Boy was a little more fitting, though.”

Bucky laughed at that, a deep, throaty laugh that seemed to ease the tension between you both. “Maybe I should’ve kept that one,” he said, his voice still full of humor. “At least I wouldn’t have to deal with the whole... 'ceremonial' aspect of it. Steve would've been proud.”

“Yeah, well,” you shot him a sly grin, “Steve would have been proud, but you know, he never could resist calling you ‘Buck.’ Not that he ever had much room to talk with his Cap persona.”

Bucky rolled his eyes dramatically. “I swear, that man and his shield. Always had to remind everyone of his title. I never needed a title to know who I was. I remember him being all tiny and as thin as a twig.”

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. “You’re right. You were always the guy who saved his ass in a fight, and he gets all the credit.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” He let out a small laugh too, leaning back slightly and stretching. “But hey, it’s Steve. He’s got that whole ‘leader’ thing going on.”

Your smile faded a little as you watched the stars, your thoughts turning inward for a moment. “It’s not easy to forget, though,” you murmured. “The things they made us do.”

Bucky gave you a knowing look. “I know. But we’re not defined by what we were forced to do. We’re defined by what we’re doing now.”

You nodded, appreciating his words. “It’s funny, though. Everyone thinks they know you from what they’ve seen on the surface. But they don’t know everything. No one knows what it’s really like to survive what we did.”

He turned his gaze toward you. “Yeah? So, what was it like for you? I never really got the full story.”

You let out a breath, leaning back into the cushions, letting the weight of the question settle over you for a moment before answering. “I got trafficked to Southeast Asia when I was really young by an extremist group. They took kids like me and put us in a concentration camp, training us to fight. To become soldiers. It was like the Hunger Games. We weren’t seen as children. Just tools, you know?”

Bucky’s face softened, his eyes filled with sorrow and a silent understanding that only someone who had been through something similar could truly grasp. “Jesus. How did you… survive all that?”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, the memories still painful, even after all this time. “I was fifteen when S.H.I.E.L.D. rescued me. They raided the compound, took me in. But it wasn’t easy. For years, I had flashbacks, panic attacks. I could barely trust anyone, let alone let them help me.” You paused, letting the weight of your past hang in the air for a moment. "But S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t treat me like a broken weapon. They saw me as someone who could heal. They got me therapy, helped me recover. I trained as an agent, but I wasn’t just a soldier anymore. I was... something more. I spent years figuring out who I was again. I’m still figuring it out."

Bucky’s eyes softened even more. “So you’ve also been through hell.”

You nodded, locking eyes with him. “I have. But I’m here now. And I’m not that soldier anymore. Just like you, James. We’ve both come a long way.”

Bucky sat back for a moment, his eyes staring off into the distance as he processed your words. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, as if he were comparing your journey to his own, seeing the parallels in your stories. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable; it was filled with mutual understanding, shared pain, and healing.

Finally, his voice came low and sincere, with a weight that carried more meaning than you expected. “I get it now,” he said, his gaze softening as he looked at you, like he was seeing you in a new light. “I always thought I was the only one who went through that. That no one could possibly understand the kind of hell I went through. But you... you went through something just as brutal. And you made it out. Not just made it out—healed. That’s… that’s something. It takes real strength to do what you did. To come back from all of that and still keep your humanity.”

You felt your heart tighten at his words, but there was no sadness in them. Instead, it was admiration. Respect. You hadn’t realized just how much of an impact your story had on him until that moment, until you saw the understanding in his eyes.

“James, you’re not broken. You’re not the man they tried to make you into,” you said softly, reaching out to rest a hand on his. “Neither of us are. What we went through, it doesn’t define us. It’s who we are now, who we choose to be going forward.”

Bucky stared at your hand for a moment, then met your gaze again, his eyes wide with something between awe and gratitude. “I don’t know if I could’ve gotten through it without you, dove,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're the one who showed me it was possible to heal, to still be something good after everything. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m… I’m starting to believe that I can too.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you squeezed his hand gently. “You already are, Buck’. You’re already healing. You just need to believe it.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The quiet was comfortable, not awkward, as Bucky’s words seemed to settle into your chest, a warm weight that felt like something shifting inside both of you. He understood now. He saw the strength in you, the same strength that had once seemed impossible to find in himself.

Then, with a small, almost hesitant smile, Bucky spoke again. “And to think, I thought I’d be the experiment and teach you how to get through all of this.”

You smiled softly at that. “You’re a work in progress, Barnes. But you’re getting there.”

He chuckled quietly. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head, dove.”

You laughed, nudging him again. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Bucky laughed, but it was a lighter sound, the weight of the conversation lifting a little. He leaned back against the armrest, still holding your hand, but this time, it felt different. Less like a lifeline and more like an understanding, a bond between two people who had walked similar dark paths and were finally finding their way into the light.

The quiet between you grew, not awkward, but warm and heavy with unspoken emotions. The soft hum of the city below seemed distant, a background melody to the quiet connection you shared. Reaching for a chocolate-covered strawberry on the plate between you, you held it up, your smile turning playful.

“You know,” you began, studying the glossy chocolate coating, “this kind of reminds me of life. The strawberry is the tough stuff—the tangy, bitter parts you have to get through. And the chocolate?” You grinned. “That’s the healing. The sweetness that makes all the hard stuff worth it.”

Bucky raised a brow, leaning slightly closer. “So what you’re saying is, we’re both just strawberries trying to coat ourselves in chocolate?” His lips curved into a lopsided smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes unmistakable.

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Not exactly what I meant, but sure. If that helps you sleep at night.”

Before you could take a bite, his metal hand reached out, swift but deliberate, and plucked the strawberry from your fingers. His smirk widened as he held it up to his lips, taking a slow, deliberate bite. His eyes never left yours as he chewed, and there was something almost maddening about the mischievous twinkle in his gaze.

“Hey!” you protested, feigning offense as you leaned forward. “That was mine.”

He shrugged, holding out the remaining half toward you with an innocent tilt of his head. “Sharing is caring, dove.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but despite your mock irritation, a smile tugged at your lips. Leaning closer, you took a careful bite, the rich sweetness of the chocolate blending with the tartness of the strawberry on your tongue. You leaned back with a satisfied hum, but before you could savor it fully, Bucky’s expression shifted, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You’ve got some chocolate,” he murmured, his tone softer now, almost tender.

You blinked as he reached out, his metal thumb brushing the corner of your lip with a featherlight touch. The sensation was fleeting, yet it sent a small shiver down your spine. Then, before you could react, he brought his thumb to his lips, licking away the smudge of chocolate with a casual ease that left your heart pounding.

“Not bad,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a small smirk, as though entirely unaware of the effect he was having on you.

You swallowed hard, your thoughts scrambling for something witty to say, but the words caught in your throat as Bucky’s gaze softened. He leaned in slightly, his movements slow and deliberate, his attention flicking between your eyes and your lips.

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, his voice low and careful, as though he was afraid of breaking the moment.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

His lips brushed against yours with a hesitance that made your heart flutter, as though he were trying to pour every unspoken word, every unacknowledged feeling, into that single, delicate moment. There was a warmth to his touch, not just physical but something deeper—a quiet reverence that made you feel seen, understood in a way you hadn’t expected. His lips were soft, yet there was a firmness in the way he pressed them against yours, as if he were grounding himself at the moment, testing its reality.

It wasn’t hurried, not the kind of kiss borne out of passion or desperation, but one that carried weight, and sincerity. He kissed you with an almost fragile hope, like he was afraid that pushing too hard might shatter whatever fragile thread had brought you both here. His breath mingled with yours, faint and steady, a subtle reminder of how close you were.

Your hand drifted to his shoulder, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to him, to this moment. His shoulder felt solid beneath your touch, a quiet reassurance of his presence. You leaned in, tilting your head slightly to deepen the connection, mirroring his pace. The sweetness of the chocolate and the faint tang of the strawberry lingered between you, blending with the warmth of his kiss and creating a sensory memory you knew you wouldn’t forget.

His hand—flesh, not metal—came to rest lightly on your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a touch so gentle it sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers curled slightly, cradling your face as though you were something precious, something worth holding onto. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a conversation without words, an exchange of trust, of vulnerability.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t sudden. He lingered close, his lips barely grazing yours as his breath warmed your skin. His forehead dipped to rest lightly against yours, his eyes still closed as if he were savoring the moment, reluctant to let it end. You stayed there for a moment, the world around you fading into nothing but the soft sound of your breaths and the steady rhythm of your heartbeats, perfectly in sync.

When he finally opened his eyes, the blue of his gaze was deeper, softer, filled with an emotion you could barely put into words. He looked at you like you were something sacred, something that had started to piece together parts of himself he hadn’t realized were broken.

You smiled softly, your thumb brushing against his arm. “You okay?” you asked, your voice gentle, a little breathless.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips curving into a shy smile. “More than okay.”

His hand lingered on your jaw for a moment longer, his thumb tracing the faintest line along your cheek before he pulled it away, his gaze never leaving yours. You weren’t sure what would come next, but for now, this was enough. This was everything.

“You’ve got a weird way of sharing strawberries,” you teased softly, your voice barely above a whisper, though it carried a warmth that matched the steady thrum in your chest.

Bucky let out a chuckle, his lips quirking into a shy smile. “Yeah, well, you’ve got a weird way of making metaphors. I think we’re even.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight of the past seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the quiet promise of what could come next.

PART ONE. l NEXT PART.

Want to read more of my works? Check out my masterlist !

taglist : @stilleobjection — @the-fandoms-onceler — @zyra-7 .

⠀⠀

dividers ©️ @cafekitsune .

angelremnants ©️ 2024. All rights reserved. Do not repost, reproduce, or distribute without explicit permission.

[tossawary]

While I do think that Wangxian would still be obsessed with each other in a Human/Cybertronian pairing, whichever one of them is the robot, I keep leaning towards Wen Ning being the robot in a "Transformers" AU for MDZS. I think it really fits the "I rebuilt you into an abomination" angle for the Ningxian situationship.

Also, I keep making myself laugh by thinking about bitchy-faced Lan Wangji sitting awkwardly in Wen Ning's passenger seat, because Wen Ning passive-aggressively won't let LWJ sit in the driver's seat even if Wei Wuxian isn't in the car. 

Which led me to thinking about the worldbuilding and plotting of a MDZS TF AU in which only the Wens are Cybertronians. (For the Sunshot-Era characters, at least.) Young WWX and LWJ are roughly the equivalent of human characters like G1's Spike, Carly, and/or Chip. (Though it would also be fun to do a different AU where WWX and/or LWJ are transforming giant robots, of course.)

In my mind, this story would take place in a modern-ish sci-fi setting. Start close to a Bayverse-like setting (live-action TF movies), but quickly morph into a "Pacific Rim"-style mecha setting (humans building mechs to fight monsters, not necessarily with a "Drift" co-piloting setup) as the equivalent of the Sunshot Campaign war starts and continues, before ultimately the setting becomes more of a retro-futuristic space opera like the original 1986 TF movie and the third season of G1 (the original TF cartoon). 

So, Wei Wuxian is a teenage genius at some prestigious robotics university/college, which does important research on a handful of alien artifacts. Lan Wangji also goes to this school and teenage Wangxian have the usual interpersonal conflict between them. 

Alien robots have been visiting Earth with increasing frequency over the past few decades, usually flying in and out without doing much, sometimes causing some destruction, so they're somewhat known, but a lot of people still think it's an elaborate hoax of some kind. The recovered pieces of these alien robots have provided a technological boost to humanity, which has caused some serious problems all over the world, but mundane life goes on for many people even if mech programs are apparently a real thing now. 

(Wei Wuxian's parents (who were humans) had dealings with Cybertronians. He does not initially know this.) 

The Cloud Recesses school possesses some very important alien artifact that serves as our story's MacGuffin. I'm thinking that it's either the Allspark or the Matrix of Leadership. Whatever it is, it's been dormant and useless for a very long time... basically a rock... until Wei Wuxian manages to build technology that actually manages to interface with the MacGuffin. No one else has ever managed this before. He can make it do stuff. 

Unfortunately, in achieving this, he accidentally sends out the equivalent of a signal to all Cybertronians pretty much everywhere saying: "YO! Earth has got your stuff! The MacGuffin you've been searching for for a million years is over here! Come and get it!" 

So, the school gets attacked by a group of Cybertronians, probably led by Cybertronian Wen Chao. The school possesses enough technology for some of the more daring and reckless students (Wei Wuxian) to fight back a little, using a combination of smarts and highly volatile projects, until some mech pilots arrive to chase them off. Wei Wuxian manages to knock one of the transformers down, but he doesn't take the killing shot, because the transformer looks scared, and Wei Wuxian also saw this transformer trying to step carefully around the humans. The transformer retreats with the other Cybertronians. 

Insert some plot and character stuff here. Then, in the next action-y sequence when Wei Wuxian gets attacked by Cybertronians again, he's saved when a car pulls up in front of him (it looks like either LWJ or Jiang Cheng's fancy car) and flings open a door for him to jump inside. It's only as they're driving away that Wei Wuxian realizes that no one else is in the car. 

Wei Wuxian: "...You're a Cybertronian, right? Was this a bad idea? Did I fuck up?" 

Cybertronian Wen Ning (the transformer whom Wei Wuxian didn't kill earlier): "Yeah, kind of. I'm surprised that you just went along with that? I'm kidnapping you. Sorry." 

In this universe, the Wens are essentially the Decepticons, but if the Decepticons had basically already won the war. There are some remaining Autobots out there, Wen Ning actually has a few Autobot ties, but the Autobots are largely scattered. Wen Ning and Wen Qing are both Decepticons here to get the MacGuffin (Allspark or Matrix), so that Decepticon victory will be complete, and Earth will probably be destroyed or conquered in the process. 

Well, they were here to do that. Wen Ning isn't really feeling that plan so much. He feels bad for the humans. And he thinks Wei Wuxian is really cool! He's never seen anyone that small and squishy humiliate Wen Chao that badly! Wow. 

Wen Ning doesn't like Lan Wangji so much, however, which is mutual. Currently, I'm thinking about this with polyamory vibes. Wei Wuxian would love to have car sex with Lan Wangji in Wen Ning's back seat, but he's not looking directly at that thought because he's pretty sure that LWJ hates him, and he refuses to reflect at all on why he wants this fantasy to be happening inside Wen Ning specifically. WWX is too busy dealing with a robot war to face being gay, much less being gay(?) for a giant robot as well, he doesn't have the time to learn what polyamory is yet! 

Insert series of events here that ultimately lead to a Humans versus Decepticons war, where the humans have mechs and a growing force of New Autobot allies, but the struggle against these lethal transforming robot soldiers is still grueling. 

The great sects in this AU are all giant tech and/or weapons companies of various types. Which is, you know, morally not great, probably, but this is what these kids have grown up with. They're feeling additional pressure to "do their duty" to protect Earth. The Nie family are heavily involved in some mech program that's been running for a few generations now and has some disastrous health effects, but is not going to stop Nie Mingjue from piloting Baxia until it kills him. Jiang Yanli is already married to Jin Zixuan, son of the CEO of the Jin Corporation, which will play its usual role of "shadowy, greedy company" this time with cyberpunk-esque aesthetics. 

I'm not sure what the Jiangs do, but I'm learning towards something to do with space. Jiang Cheng could be in business school, or doing some form of military service, or participating in some astronaut program (still not good enough for his mother), in preparation to take over the family company someday. His life plan gets completely wrecked by giant robots. Specifically, when the giant robots destroy most of the company's buildings and factories, early on in the war, and then his parents also get killed. The insurance alone is a fucking nightmare to deal with. 

In this AU, the only person whom young man Jiang Cheng has ever experienced any kind of attraction towards is a 20ft+ robot "woman" (Wen Qing) who is allegedly a doctor and can turn her arms into buzzsaws (see Knockout from TFP). No, he doesn't want to talk about these feelings. You could physically force JC's ass into therapy and he'd still never talk. 

Anyway, everyone is having a really bad time in this war! Wei Wuxian grows out of his teenage years desperately pulling useful information out of the MacGuffin (Allspark or Matrix) and developing new technology to fight back. Work sucks. War sucks. The state of his family is a tragedy. His relationship status with now coworker Lan Wangji is a solid: "???" Every day, New Autobots like Wen Ning seem to get a little broken and Wei Wuxian can't fix it all. 

Eventually, Wei Wuxian develops something really dangerous that helps to kill off the leader of the Decepticons and win the war. I was thinking some kind of spacebridge technology, perhaps? Because I was thinking that a spacebridge accident should be what "kills" Wei Wuxian for 10+ years, before popping him back into his usual reality, back into a world that has seemingly moved on without him. 

After the Decepticons are first defeated, the situation is tense. Wei Wuxian is sitting on a goldmine of dangerous and powerful technology, capable of developing more. He somehow managed to bring Wen Ning back from the dead this one time and even the Cybertronians seemed weirded out by that. After the war, a lot of people aren't kindly inclined towards the New Autobots, and some people want to take them apart to see what makes them tick. 

Including Wen Yuan, a brand new Decepticon who was created during the war and then rescued by the New Autobots at the very end of it, taken under their wings before he could be forced to do anything to hurt anyone. Wei Wuxian is not this kid's dad. Wen Yuan isn't really a "kid". But he's still relatively small (only like 10ft-tall) because they don't have the parts to get him good upgrades yet and so inexperienced. I need you to picture a six-month-old robot very, VERY carefully picking up a human Wei Wuxian who is about half his size, who drank himself to sleep in the lab again, so that Wen Yuan can put him to bed. It is sad. 

The character who is probably the closest equivalent to an Optimus Prime figure here is Granny Wen. Optimus Prime if Optimus Prime sounded like someone's grandma. I think it would be fun to make her the leader of the New Autobots. Not sure yet whether or not she has or at one point had the Matrix. If she ever did, maybe it was ripped out of her chest at some point. 

I'm disinclined to kill off all the Wen remnants again in an AU, so I'm leaning towards Wei Wuxian helping them escape Earth through a spacebridge in the face of some "unofficial" mercenary attack. Wen Ning gets "killed" again (captured by the Jin Corporation, who are not identified at the time). Pretty much everyone else manages to get away. Except for Wei Wuxian, who gets caught in a spacebridge accident, and banished to the Shadowzone, assumed dead. 

Many years later, young scientist Mo Xuanyu uses Wei Wuxian's spacebridge research to bring him back from the Shadowzone. Wei Wuxian does not have a good sense of how much time has passed. He was wearing an exosuit, which kept him from dying outright, but being in stasis in between realities takes more than a minute for recovery. Damn. That was weird.

The situation more than a decade later is actually apparently less dire than he might have feared. The New Autobots managed to negotiate a treaty and a safe return to Earth, and have built a new base here, working cooperatively with allies such as Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng, who have put much of Wei Wuxian's work to good, productive use helping Earth rebuild. How do Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng work with the New Autobots when they can't stand speaking to each other and hate agreeing with each other ever? Well, that's what personal assistants are for. 

Lan Wangji apparently only got hotter as he got older and Wei Wuxian is having a hard time dealing with that! It seems unfair! (Wei Wuxian is going to cry when they find and rescue Wen Ning again. And someone will finally force him to talk about his desire to make out with Lan Wangji across the hood of his car who is also his friend who is also a giant robot.) 

I don't know what has happened to Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan here. They could be alive? Maybe not? In the AU, however, Jin Ling is the equivalent to Daniel Witwicky, who is son of Spike and Carly. Jin Ling in this AU is a cute human tweenager / teenager with the roundest, rosiest cheeks you've ever seen. 

And all the other "Juniors" are giant robots. 

Lan Wangji took Wen Yuan under his wing. Lan Sizhui has gotten his first few rounds of upgrades, so he's at least twice his previous size, in good repair now, and pretty much unrecognizable. I need you to imagine giant robot Lan Sizhui very carefully picking up "Dr. Lan" to demonstrate to the other junior New Autobots how such a thing is done with humans. Lan Sizhui is very roughly equivalent to the TF character of Springer at this point. 

Ouyang Zizhen is roughly equivalent to Arcee. Lan Jingyi is roughly equivalent to Hot Rod. They were brought to Earth because Cybertron is still partially under Decepticon control and the Earth base is safer for young Cybertronians. They are also roughly the same age as Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling.

As far as little human Jin Ling is concerned, he has just as much right to "leadership" of this friendship group as any of the others! They're alll the same age!!! 

And yes, one could also move Lan Sizhui into the "Hot Rod" position here, but Lan Sizhui has vibes that are closer to Ultra Magnus than Hot Rod in my opinion, and I like Hot Rod. And it is just funny to think about Lan Jingyi becoming a Rodimus Prime equivalent and having to deal with being the new bearer of the Matrix of Leadership. No one considered him a potential candidate, least of all himself. He did Not Ask. He does Not Want. 

There's a potential plot here regarding the Jin Corporation and Mech Pilot Nie Mingjue's murder and potentially some Unicron equivalent threat to the planet, but it's too heavily dependent on whatever has happened previously in this plot to create solid thoughts. And it's late! I would much rather amuse myself thinking about Lan Jingyi as Rodimus Prime. He would like to Get Off This Ride.

[whencyclopedia]

Twelve Menacing & Protective Mythological Figures

The term mythology comes from the Greek words mythos (“story of the people”) and logos (“word”) and so is defined as the spoken (later written) story of a culture. Modern scholars have divided myths into different types which serve many different cultural purposes.

Myths serve to explain the origin of the world, how various aspects of that world operate and why, the meaning of suffering and death and, always, serve to reinforce cultural values. Central to these stories are the supernatural characters – gods, heroes, demons, spirits – whose purpose is to convey the message.

These figures, whatever other purposes they served, were expressions of the fears and hopes of the people. The gods, in every ancient civilization, were considered benevolent in general, but there were always some deities who chose to make life difficult for humanity.

In the same way that one will tend to be more careful to humor and placate an intimidating teacher, professor, or supervisor more than one who is gracious and easy-going, the ancients were careful to make provision for menacing forces before thanking those who only meant them well. Amulets and charms, votive figures, incantations and prayers, gestures and daily devotions were used to protect one's self from supernatural threats and, in some cases, these practices found expression in a specific supernatural being.

Twelve Mythological Figures

The following list comes from cultures around the world, and the figures are chosen as representative of types. There are thousands of such figures from world mythology, and all have their own individual characteristics and particular functions in the culture that gave birth to them.

The twelve entities under consideration are:

Pazuzu – Mesopotamia

Bes – Egypt

Lamia – Greece

The Lemures – Rome

Nian – China

Huma Bird – Persia

Bhramari – India

Ixtab – Mesoamerica

The Morrigan – Ireland

The Manananggal – Philippines

The Kelpie - Scotland

Akabeko – Japan

Some of these are deities but the majority are supernatural entities endowed with powers lesser than the gods but far greater than human abilities. The underlying form of all the creatures signifies change, transformation, which is as inevitable as the human resistance to it. Humans derive comfort from the known and familiar and tend to shrink from, or actively resist, perceived threats to their established norm.

At the same time, there are obvious challenges in life which common sense dictates one should try to avoid such as death, disease, and loss, and these figures represented those threats and the hope of avoiding them. Among the greatest fears of the ancients, judging from the number of artifacts and incantations concerning it, was infant mortality because it threatened not only population growth but social stability.

Continue reading...

[xavviluin05]

✦Animus magic - is a gift that allows one to transform energy and animate inanimate objects✦

No one knows exactly how the first animus magic users appeared, but they originated from the IceWings and later spread throughout Pyrrhia.

The nature of animus magic is little studied, but it is known for certain that when enchanting an object, the animus breathes life into it, losing some of their power in the process. The enchanted item is strengthened and begins to possess some properties of a living organism; it emits heat or cold, depending on the dragon who enchanted it, and can understand speech. If an item is enchanted to respond to a specific command, with enough patience, it can be retrained to respond to another. However, enchanted items are extremely stubborn and often not very clever, taking many words literally.

✦Animus magic users must be incredibly cautious with the use of their magic, as overly powerful spells can simply kill them✦

Although animus magic users can create something new using magic, they prefer to enchant already finished items since growing things is an extremely time and energy-consuming process.

IceWing animus magic users preferred to create gifts entirely with their claws, infusing them with magic during the creation process and literally putting their soul into them. As a result, artifacts made by IceWings and their followers possess extraordinary strength and greater intelligence.

An animus who has expended their power can replenish it both naturally (by eating well and resting) and artificially. Artificial replenishment is achieved by killing and extracting energy from other living beings. Some believe that it is also necessary to eat the victim’s heart, but this is not essential.

Artificial replenishment is beneficial because through it you gain more magical power than is possible to acquire naturally due to the limitations of the animus’s body. The legend that an animus loses their soul when using magic is mostly based on cases where they descended into mass killings to obtain energy for more powerful spells.

The most striking example of such an animus is Darkstalker, a dragon who, for almost all 17 years of his life, killed random IceWings in pursuit of immortality. When his friends learned about the nature of his power, they were horrified and killed him.

Not all animus magic users are serial killers; most prefer a more civilized method - sacrificing animals. Interestingly, scavengers have quite high energy value due to their sentience, but dragons have yet to discover this. They lean toward the belief that the amount of energy is proportional to the size of the creature.

Animus magic users rarely engage in enchanting living beings because it is an incredibly difficult and often messy process, the first step of which is to completely break the creature being enchanted. Both dragons and animals have their own will, which in normal situations will always resist the animus’s will. Enchanting these creatures turns into a constant struggle with continuous depletion of both moral and magical strength.

An average animus can barely handle an animal, let alone another dragon (or scavenger). Although powerful animus magic users can temporarily subdue a victim, they prefer to avoid it out of a very reasonable fear of losing all their power in the process.

If a dragon does want to subdue another sentient being, they will need patience and a lack of squeamishness. The creature being enchanted is driven mad, broken, and stripped of its own will, turning into an empty vessel that can later be filled with magic.

Some animus magic users follow the IceWing method. They take a dragonet or any other creature they want to enchant (the younger, the better) and raise it in complete obedience, infusing it with magic during the training process, making the dragonets stronger and faster-growing than their peers. This method is the most successful if an animus wants to subdue the will of a living creature.

[kierastransformerssideblog]

More worldbuilding! I nearly uploaded this with the first paragraph completely missing!

[nonsscrapheap]

TFP: Universal Observation

i cracked, i caved underneath my own pressure and impulse HAVE THIS REACTION FIC OF TEAM PRIME LOOKING INTO ALTERNATE UNIVERSES! i'm gonna test this out on tumblr in an effort to be more active here.

this is mostly going to focus around Raf, Miko and Jack btw! at least at the start. also! this is set around mid-season 1, when Arachnid arrives at the Nemesis.

WARNING! LONG POST!

Prologue: Shattered Glass - I -

[ ----- TFP : UO ----- ]

Omega Outpost One

It started out as a normal day, a normal weekend, spend some time with his mom in the morning before heading to the Autobot base after insisting that he would be okay there. Jack was just glad that she didn't do anymore impromptu visits to the outpost anymore, and that she was trusting Arcee with his safety without hovering.

Look, he loved his mom and he did still feel a bit guilty over the whole Arachnid situation but still, her concern was getting a bit too much. Even for him.

Anyway, as he and Arcee pulled into the base, he found the others already there and gathered around something perched on the second floor area. "Hey guys, what's up?" He greeted aloud as he got off Arcee, giving her his helmet after she transformed for safekeeping.

"Welcome back Jack, Arcee." Optimus greeted back with a stoic warmness that Jack didn't know possible.

"What's with the crowd?" Arcee asked curiously as she and Jack stepped closer, with Jack bounding up the steps to join Miko and Raf on the second floor. There, on the second floor, was a silver and gold sphere with curved glyphs wrapped around it. It was nearly the size of Raf, only stopping at the boy's chest height. "Uh, what is that?"

Bulkhead shrugged, "Dunno, Ratchet found it in storage but we don't remember it being stored there. Like, ever."

Jack frowned, staring at the sphere warily, "Could it be a trap?" He couldn't help but ask, bristling when Miko just casually placed a hand on the sphere. "Miko!"

"What?! Raf and I already touched it before! So have the others! It does nothing!" Miko exclaimed, patting the silver and gold sphere, making a clanging noise as she did so.

Ratchet grumbled, giving the girl a look of intense disapproval. "Nothing so far. We still don't know what it's supposed to be or how it got into the base. And before anyone suggests, no, we did not forget about it. We catalogued every single Cybertronian item that we brought into this base, before and after we moved here, and I am certain that something like this would be remembered." He huffed, arms crossed against his chassis. "However so far, all scans shows it being... inert. Deactivated, with no clear instructions or signs on how to activate it." He glanced over to the Prime who shook his helm.

"My apologies old friend, I have searched through my memories and data files, but I have no knowledge as to what this artifact is. Or what it can do." Optimus replied with slight apology, though he did look back to the sphere, watching Raf, Jack and Miko hesitantly (Miko wasn't hesitant at all) poke and prod the sphere. "But I do recognize the glyphs on the sphere, it is Primal Vernacular. The old tongue of the Primes of Cybertron."

.: So it's a Prime relic or an artifact related to it? :. Bumblebee beeped in question. .: What does it say? :.

"It says, 'See for yourself, what else is out there.'" The Autobot leader answered, intrigued yet perplexed by the sphere's mystery. "Again, I do not know what that means per say, nor do I remember anything resembling this artifact anywhere."

"Well, whatever it is, it's currently broken." Miko said with a huff, still patting the sphere before curling her hand into a fist. "Or maybe we're not hitting it hard enough! Do something already! It's been so boring today!" She exclaimed, banging her fist.

"Miko!" Jack, Bulkhead and Ratchet exclaimed in varying tones of worry and frustration.

Miko gave each of them a deadpanned look as she, Raf and Jack continued to press their palms to the sphere for some reason. It was just warm and weird to touch, alright? "What? It's not like I'll shatter it! It's not made of glass!"

Suddenly, the sphere began to glow.

Immediately, the humans let go of the sphere, backing away with a startled cry. The Autobots were quick to retrieve their charges and step away from the glowing sphere. Light shined out of the glyphs before shooting into the air to... project a holographic screen?

Words began to flash along the screen, first in Primal Vernacular, then in Neocybex, and finally in English.

[ CONTINUITY SCAN 100 % COMPLETE SUBJECTS ' Raf ; Jack ; Miko ' COMPONENT ACCEPTED UNKNOWN ATTEMPTS GENERATED PASSCODE 'BORING' HAS BEEN ACCEPTED KEY WORDS ; SHATTERED GLASS ACCEPTED ]

"What's happening?!" Raf clutched Bee's hands as his guardian held him close, tense and ready for whatever would happen. It was the same for Miko and Jack who were being held up by Bulkhead and Arcee respectively. Ratchet and Optimus stood before the three bots, ready to fight if necessary.

Fortunately, they didn't have to.

The holographic screen merely stayed there in the air, the text being wiped away for new ones.

[ PROCEED WITH UNIVERSAL OBSERVATION? ACCEPT / DECLINE ]

"What?" Ratchet uttered as he and the others slowly relaxed, enough that the three Autobots slowly put down their human charges. "Universal observation? What on Cybertron could that possibly mean?"

"I... do not know, old friend." Optimus murmured, eyeing the screen with a wary optic.

"If... If it's an 'observation' thing then, maybe it's harmless?" Jack suggested, peeking up at the screen with a look of apprehension. Then he spotted Miko's look of interest, and the smile on her face. "Miko... Miko no!" He exclaimed, trying to reach her but unfortunately for Jack, he was too late. She'd been set a bit too far from him.

"ACCEPT!" The teenage girl shouted just as Jack reached her a second too late, startling everyone and immediately the screen came to life.

"MIKO!" Multiple voices exclaimed in varying tones of exasperation and frustration. Miko merely grinned from behind Jack's hand before her eyes widened and she pointed at the screen.

"MMPH! MM-" She forced Jack's hand off her mouth, "LOOK!"

[ Two humans ran through the halls of a familiar looking ship. The colors a little bit brighter though. ]

"It's Raf and I!" They all boggled at the sight of it. "Why are we on the Nemesis?"

"Wait, when did this happen?" Jack squinted, wondering why Raf and Miko were on the Nemesis, hell, why was the sphere showing this?

"It didn't! Miko and I never ran together on the Nemesis." Raf said, adjusting his glasses as he watched him and Miko on screen run through the halls.

"Why do the halls look a little different? More..." Bulkhead squinted, "... brighter?"

"More importantly, why are running and why do they look excited?" Ratchet questioned stiffly, wondering what in the pit was going on.

[ "Oh chiiildren~" A feminine voice playfully rang out in the hallway, almost familiar rapid, multiple pedesteps sounded out. "Where aare youuu~?"

Miko and Raf shared a look, "Split up!" She whisper yelled to Raf who giggled and ran the opposite direction. ]

Arcee immediately tensed, "Arachnid!" She hissed with contempt, recognizing that voice anywhere. And yet, she paused with confusion. Unlike the usual sultry maliciousness in her voice, she sounded... genuinely playful, and soft almost. It made Arcee shiver with unease.

"Arachnid?! Miko, Raf, get out of there!" Jack urged the screen-version of his friends even though they couldn't hear him.

"Woah Jack! Raf and I are here! We're fine!" Miko soothed, though she did look concerned for her screen counterpart. But even she noticed that screen!Miko and Raf weren't really scared? They really just looked excited, of all things. But why? 

[ Miko ducked around the corner, pressing against the wall so she could catch her breath. She huffed, trying to keep herself quiet. She peeked around the corner, eyes squinting. When she spots nothing, she sighs in relief, grinning to herself before she hears a sound coming from above. She looks up and gasps, abruptly, she's snatched upwards.

Meanwhile, Raf was still running in the halls of the ship and just as he turns, he stops as he finds a familiar mech standing in the hall. "Starscream!" Raf exclaimed with delight, reaching his arms up, "Quick, hide me!" ] 

There's a cry of her name, much different from usual- panicked and scared and Miko yelps as she finds herself in Bulkhead's hands once again. The wrecker looking so very concerned for her, "Uh- Bulk? I'm fine! I'm here! I'm- screen Miko's definitely fine! Bulk?" 

Raf gave the screen a bewildered look before he too, yelped when he found himself being lifted up by Bee just like Miko. "Bumblebee!" His friend let out a protective, panicked beep, "Bee?" 

"Starscream?" Arcee repeated incredulously, having been on edge the moment screen!Miko had disappeared. "That's- that cannot be Starscream."

The Starscream on the screen's grey metal was lighter, his wings were folded downwards, there were red and blue detailing that the Starscream they knew didn't have. Not to mention he wasn't hunched over and his optics, they were blue instead of red. The most damning of all though, was the gentle look the seeker had that replaced his usually malicious and scheming expression. 

"I… believe it is." Optimus murmured with slight disbelief, watching how the young human on the screen seemed to treat that Starscream with friendly familiarity. "I do not think it is our Starscream however." 

[ "Hide you?" Starscream mused aloud, "Ah, another game, Rafael? Very well." He knelt down, letting Raf climb onto his servos and opened his cockpit, letting the human settle into the space before gently closing it. "Alright in there?" He asked with amusement and chuckled when Raf replied with a muffled 'yes!' ] 

"Definitely not our Starscream, he would never let a human into his cockpit like that." Ratchet agreed, watching the scene with a nervous tank and a boggled expression. Trying to understand what exactly was happening right now. "This… This is an alternate world." 

They all turned to the medic. "What?"

[ Pedesteps came, alongside the joined laughter of two females. The screen showed Arachnid in her root mode, toting around Miko on her shoulder, servos firmly yet carefully holding on. Miko was laughing as the spider bot jostled her two and fro. "Starscream!" Arachnid called out happily, smiling widely at the seeker. "I don't suppose you've seen Raf, have you?" 

"Hmm, Rafael?" Starscream replied with clear jest, "Perhaps…" His optics not so subtly looked down to his cockpit. Arachnid noticed and smiled mischievously. ]

Arcee was staring at the screen with warring emotions, firstmost was anger and disgust at the sight of the spider femme and then there was confusion at the sight of the fact this Arachnid was different. Not only in looks, her optics were a cyan blue instead of purplish pink, her finish was a dark yet cooler hue of blue with bronze trims instead of gold. But in personality of course, she was handling screen!Miko with obvious care despite having the human girl on her shoulder. And her voice, it was soft as silk, not sultry and had no hidden menace.

Add into the fact Starscream was being equally differnet—

It was a fragging jarring thing to witness, even through a holographic screen. Arcee felt faint. 

Ratchet, was thankfully, just as perturbed as he gestured to the screen. "This is- this is showing us a glimpse into an alternate world. One where the Decepticons are- well, that." 

[ "Now, where oh where could Raf be? He couldn't have gotten far, his legs are, unfortunately, too short." Arachnid mused slowly, snickering at the muffled 'hey!' that was heard from Starscream's cockpit. Not long an 'oops' was heard as Arachnid leaned closer to Starscream, faceplate by the cockpit. "Gotcha. Starscream, if you would?" 

"No Screamy! Take Raf and run!" Miko hollered with a laugh, squirming on Arachnid's shoulder. 

Starscream laughed, shaking his helm. "Perhaps another time, I do still have duties to fulfill. My apologies Rafael." He opened the pit and gently took the pouting tween out. It didn't last long as Arachnid took him as well, setting him to sit properly on her other shoulder unlike Miko, who hung like a sack. "Hm, that's two humans accounted for. Where is Jackson?" ] 

"Primus that is so fragging weird." Bulkhead hissed, still holding on to Miko protectively, but eventually relented when the girl squirmed and scrambled towards his shoulder. He gave in and let her sit there. 

"I know! Looks like the cons are the good guys over there! So weird!" Miko exclaimed, legs swinging as she watched herself call Starscream 'Screamy' and not get obliterated by the con. 

.: … Starscream calls Raf, Rafael like Ratchet… And calls Jack, Jackson- he sounds like a fraggin' gentlemech. :. Bumblebee whirred, scratching his helm while settling Raf on his own shoulder. He glanced over to Jack who had the same look as Arcee, staring incomprehensibly at the screen. Which was fair, the two times he met with Arachnid were horrible but here she was- different on screen in another world. 

[ "Jack's with King Con! Talking about Cybertron again." Miko huffed, wiggling in Arachnid's grip. The femme finally relented, letting the teenage girl down to the floor. She groaned, stretching her limbs. 

Starscream frowned, "Miko, you know he doesn't like being called that." 

Miko pouted, "Aw, but he's like- all wise and stuff! And he leads the Decepticons- plus, you all told us if it wasn't for Optimus and his evil Autobots, he'd be like, ruling Cybertron." 

"In charge of Cybertron, not ruling it. Never ruling it- he hates the word and thought of it." Arachnid corrected gently. "It's why he never chose a Prime name, merely shortened his gladiatorial name to Megatron. He hates being addressed by any other title aside from General." 

The scene changes to Megatron, standing at the control center with Jack on the console. Pictures of Cybertron in its golden age were on the screens, the silver mech had a gentle smile on his face as Jack looked around with wonder. ]

There's a silence in the Autobot base from the scene. "This is a world where good and evil have been switched." Optimus whispered, his usually warm stoicism broken into disbelief, optics widening as he sees such a familiar faceplate. "Megatronus…" He utters, spark aching in his chamber at the familiar-looking mech. 

He looked so much like the Megatronus he once knew, only older, slightly different but his optics were blue as can be and his servo digits weren't sharpened into claws. And that smile, when had been the last time he'd seen it? Before the council meeting? Longer? 

[ "And this… This was my home city, Kaon." Megatron told Jack as the pictures flickered to Kaon. "It was not the friendliest of capitals, far from it, it was where the ruthless tore into the weak. Kindness was rare, especially in the Pits from where I fought." 

"You mentioned that before, the Pits. It was… a gladiator arena, right?" Jack questioned as the pictures changed again. The human carefully walked along the console, aware of the bigger mech that shadowed him, as if to make sure he wouldn't fall. 

"Indeed, glad to know you've been paying attention, young one." Megatron chuckled, "It was named after the Cybertronian version of what you humans would call 'Hell', and quite honestly, it was. I struggled to survive in the Pits, but I did. I found strength, I found power, and most importantly; I found kindness." 

The human frowned, looking at him with confusion. "I thought you said it was rare?" 

"It was, but not nonexistent. Kindness exists everywhere, Jack. Even the smallest of acts might sway or influence another. Sometimes, even creating a cascade of events that escalate into something more." Megatron murmurs, sounding nostalgic, fond yet also somber. "In all the time I've lived, Jack, I've realized many things. I've realized that strength is not everything, that weakness is subjective, that kindness is not weakness and that there is a difference from being nice, to being kind." ]

Hearing this Megatron talk made Optimus feel weak. His voice was so similar, but without the roughened edge of anger-fueled war tingeing his vocals. The growl of rage and slight hint of madness. It was so gentle and warm and wise— A strange sort of feeling that permeated his processor, numbly, he could hear the quiet reactions of the others. Varying from disbelief to outright confused shock. It was understandable, they've never seen this side of Megatronus. This side of Megatron. 

Primus, his words too. 

"Scrap, he's reminding me so much of Optimus but so different, it's weird." He hears Jack mutter and there's a hesitant agreement coming from all around him. 

[ Before Megatron could continue, a warning came to the screens. Startling both of them. "Woah!" Jack almost stepped off the console, but was caught and saved by Megatron who gently settled him to the floor.

"It's a Decepticon distress signal." Megatron said tensely, "Everyone, get to the command center. Now." He said aloud and into the comms. 

It didn't take long for the other Decepticons to arrive. ]

It was bizarre, to see the line up of Decepticons in different colors and all with blue optics, with the exception of Knock Out whose optics were a darker orange here.

Breakdown looked very different, his armor was red, his optics an icy blue and his faceplate a purplish grey tint- surprisingly, he had screen!Miko on his shoulder. Trailing behind him was Knock Out, instead of a bright red finish, the medic was cyan.

Right beside them was Soundwave, who was painted in a very faint purple with light green biolights. He still had a visor covering his faceplate. 

"Woah…" Raf muttered, eyeing the Decepticons from Bee's shoulder. "It's- they all look so different, at first glance it's just the colors and even that is enough to feel- jarring?" Bee made a beep of agreement, nodding to his words.

[ "Signal Origins; Makeshift." Soundwave immediately said, a worried emoticon appearing on his visor- voice synthesized but understandable. "Location coordinates attached." 

"Makeshift? Who's that?" Raf asked as Soundwave picked him up. ]

Bee tensed at the sight of Soundwave picking screen!Raf up, .: I-I know this is supposed to be an alternate world but- :. Primus, was that Soundwave's actual voice?! 

"I know Bumblebee, it's- it's weird. Downright disturbing." Arcee agreed, still looking a bit nauseous at the sight of Arachnid, of the Decepticons alongside the humans on the screen. Even though, they seemed… good. Frag, Optimus' words echoed in her processor, 'good swapped with evil' naturally that meant… oh frag.

[ "An old friend." Knock Out said as he and Soundwave went to the console to locate the distress signal. "He's been away for a while because he wanted to explore Earth on his own. This was before the Autobots managed to follow us here."

"I ordered him to stay away after the Autobots arrived, I wanted to keep him as a hidden operative. You see, Makeshift has a unique ability, he is a Shifter, a Cybertronian capable of turning into another Cybertronian- copying their frame, their looks, even their voice. Makeshift is one of my best stealth agents." Megatron explained with a tense frown. "He is a hardy mech, for him to use a distress signal…"

"Situation; grim." Soundwave finished. 

"Starscream, prepare the groundbridge at those exact coordinates. Knock Out, Breakdown and I shall be going through." ]

[---- TFP : UO -----]

The Nemesis

"I cannot believe my other would let a human inside his pit! Inconceivable!"

"Teal? Teal? Ugh, I mean, it's not a bad look but red is so my color!" Knock Out complained to Breakdown who didn't look too impressed, though he was too busy looking at himself on the screen.

"Can't believe I've got Bulkhead's human pet as my own. Guess Arachnid was just babysitting." At the mention of her name, the spiderbot hissed at Breakdown, annoyed and perturbed by her on-screen self. So gentle, so weak- thankfully she wasn't the only one disturbed by their alternate selves.

"And there's still no information as to how this thing got on my ship? Or how it activated on its own?!" Megatron growled to Starscream and Soundwave but his optics were trained solely at the screen. Taking in just how… different he was in another universe. The implications he's gotten so far… were abhorrent. Yet intriguing. 

"N-No! Master, we have- we have no idea how either happened." 

Soundwave said nothing, but did bring up a picture of a certain text.

[ CONTINUITY SCAN 100 % COMPLETE SUBJECTS ' Raf ; Jack ; Miko ' COMPONENT ACCEPTED UNKNOWN ATTEMPTS GENERATED PASSCODE 'BORING' HAS BEEN ACCEPTED KEY WORDS ; SHATTERED GLASS ACCEPTED ]

Before showing the picture of a certain trio of human children. 

"The Autobot pet humans? Hm…"

Megatron trailed off, optics shining sharply when the screen continued.

This was… interesting to say the least.

[----- TFP : UO -----]

shattered glass designs inspired by @jealousmarquis

winged it for breakdown's colors tbh. also, i was a bit confused on knock out's color scheme from jealousmarquis' pictures, one seemed a lighter blue like teal while the other was a darker blue- for now i settled on teal with thinking maybe knock out liked changing the shades of his finish. idk.

i have no idea when the next part will come but i've definitely a few ideas on what else for team prime (and cons) to react to next! but first, gotta finish the shattered glass segment. the next one will be the last of it (for now).

EDIT 1/16/25: jealousmarquis described their sg breakdown design so i edited it accordingly.

[NEXT]

[bloomeng]

I’m so curious about what their respective artifacts look like in the magical girl au! Is Jason’s his earrings? Is Dick’s the crown?

I have also been wondering this myself and I’ve come to a tentative answer (however this is subjected to change if I come up with better ideas)

The artifacts transform with their users but in their dormant state:

Bruce’s is a brooch which he allegedly wears in honor of his mother which is a half truth (I’m toying with the idea of having him modify the brooch into cufflinks)

Robin (all of them) were given a small robin shaped pendant and each of them were allowed to choose how they wore it (Dick - a collar pin chain/ Jason - a pendant necklace/ Tim - a cufflink/ Steph - attached to a headband/ Damian - a collar pin)

Jason’s— as many have correctly assumed— are his earrings

Tim’s is also a pendant—cause he’s still hanging onto that robin title— that he wears as a necklace usually under his clothing

Steph’s is a barrette that she sometimes clips to a band to wear as a headband or clips to a hairband to wear as a bracelet (Bruce has been telling her for years that she was going to loose it this way but when it’s obvious she’s not gonna stop he made her accessories that she could attach it to securely)

As Oracle Barbara’s artifacts are her rings as Batgirl her artifact was a belt buckle

Duke’s is an ear cuff because I want it to match his little wing headpieces

Dick’s artifact I’m undecided on—I just can’t see him wearing a lot of jewelry— I want each of the artifacts to be wearable items that are believable enough to be worn in every day life and be in the rough placement of the artifact in costume but that doesn’t really work for Dick I’ve checked and the only accessories he wears in canon are watches and belts neither of which fit the vibe so right now I’ve been considering a pin so that he can move it around as he pleases similarly to how Steph uses hers (examples of how Dick wears it: cufflinks, tie pin, bracelet charm, collar pin, loose in his pocket…)

Cass I was thinking some sort of hair ornament that would transform into the clips she wears in costume but I just don’t see her wearing clips so maybe when I redesign her batgirl/black bat design I’ll revisit I was looking at the comics to see what she wears out of costume and I noticed when she dresses up she usually wears a necklace so I think that could be cute

When they transform:

As I mentioned Dick’s becomes his circlet and Duke’s his winged headpiece

Barbara and Jason’s remain as rings and earrings respectively

Steph’s becomes her tiara

Cass’s is subject to change but for now it’s her hair clips

Tim’s is the circular chest plate thing that forms the bow

Damian’s becomes Alfred the Cat’s collar

Bruce I have yet to design so to be continued

I’m thinking I might design some of the artifacts for fun I don’t have a lot of experience in prop design so no promises but I think they would be super cute

[magesforthedas]

Veilguard Faction Ages:

Okay, join me on another “it’s 3am and I should be sleeping, but I couldn’t until I’d thoroughly researched this line of thought!” Minor spoilers for early VG ahead.

Antaam

The Antaam invade Tevinter around 9:44/9:45 Dragon, not on the orders of the Qun. The Qunari the Inquisitor meets in Trespasser are probably Antaam, though idk if it says that? So they could’ve broken away 9:43-9:44?

Edit: friendly commenter shared that there's a letter where it says that Antaam broke off because the Ben-Hassrath refused to continue the operation after the Inquisitor stopped them in Trespasser. So officially 9:44!

Shadow Dragons

The Shadow Dragons started out as the Lucerni, formed sometime between 9:41-9:44 Dragon. When Maevaris Tilani was framed for treason and the Lucerni dissolved, she took them underground and transformed the movement into the Shadow Dragons.

Maevaris says she’s been laying low since the allegations, that her title had been stripped… a Shadow Dragon Rook says they hadn’t heard that, and wouldn’t that had to have happened before the “Shadow Dragons” were even formed, and thus Rook a part of it? So that would be somewhat old news, since before Rook has been away with Varric… Rook doesn’t keep up with politics, I guess😂

Based off the VG codex entries I found (Neve’s notes), Mae was kicked from the Magisterium “over a year ago”, and based on the order of the codex, shortly after this she met Tarquin of the Shadow Dragons, and he was probably working with them then. Then or sometime after, she was recruited; How long has Neve been with the Shadow Dragons?

Best guess: 9:42ish the Lucerni were formed, after Dorian went back to Tevinter, before Trespasser. Sometime between 9:48-9:50 is when the Lucerni were dissolved and the Shadow Dragons were formed; long enough for the Lucerni to start to gain momentum, and make the opposition nervous, which is when they tried to tear it down. Rook would have left with Varric in 9:51, since Veilguard is supposed to be in 9:52 and you were with Varric for a year. Rook probably wasn’t part of the Shadow Dragons right at the start, but it could be pretty close if you take into account the letter found about Dorian reaching out to the Mercar family, who’s head of house was sympathetic to the Shadow Dragons. Rook could’ve realistically been with the group for a few years, or even just a few months, depending on when you think the Shadow Dragons were formed, and when Rook joined. Although, it would make sense that you and Neve haven’t met if she joined just before or after you left with Varric, so that would point to Maevaris being framed around 9:49-9:50.

Veil Jumpers

Bellara says the Veil Jumpers are pretty new, just since Arlathan Forest started getting even more chaotic. I can’t say exactly why, but I feel like in Dragon Age new/old terms, it could have been around for like… 5 years? That would put the date roughly 9:47 Dragon. We know Strife was spying on the Antaam after they took Ventus (Three Trees to Midnight), so around 9:44-9:45? Then later Strife and Irelin were sent to find an artifact in Arlathan Forest, which was when they discovered the magic had gone crazy (Ruins of Reality). Unfortunately, there isn’t any kind of date on that, but it just means we know more was happening before the Veil Jumpers started. So sometime between 9:47-9:50 is likely for their official start.

Lords of Fortune

The Lords of Fortune, upon actually reading my codex entries haha, were formed by Isabela and friends; she’s “been with the Lords since before we were the Lords. Back then it was just a bunch of sea raiders-“

Shathann left the Qun presumably when Taash was quite little, if they “went through a lot of spoons as a baby”. They were taken in by the Lords of Fortune, but a Lord Rook has never met Taash. This speaks to either: A. Shathann and Taash were not immediately taken in by the Lords, or B. Taash is pretty young, and only officially joined the Lords after you left (a year before VG), though Shathann would have been with them for longer.

It doesn’t sound like the Lords were around at the start of Inquisition, as you can ask Varric about her, and he says she went back to the Raiders of the Waking Sea and is calling herself an Admiral, though he doesn’t know if that’s official or a self-styled title. Isabela is a field agent for the Inquisition according to the multiplayer mode, so could she have formed the Lords after that? Either after 9:42 when the biggest battle happened, or after 9:44 when it was officially dissolved/merged with the chantry.

Also side note, Antaam vs Qunari (with notes from Shathann) by Taash, age 14; this was written after the Antaam broke from the Qun. So since that was 9:44, if the note is directly from that time Taash would be 22 in 9:52 (edited for clarity after comment!). After I realized this I found a note on the wiki that Taash is early 20’s, from a developer’s Q&A, which I then found the said Taash is the youngest, early 20’s (close to Sera), Emmerich is oldest in his early 50’s the rest are somewhere around late 20’s/early 30’s.

If Shathann left because of the Antaam splitting from the Qun, then it could make sense for the Lords to have been around just prior. However, Taash talks about the Antaam attacks and how it’s made the Rivain locals scared of them- this could either mean :

Shathann left when Taash was much younger, well before the Antaam split, so possibly around the early 9:30s? The two may have settled into Rivain well before the Lords were formed, and Shathann started working for them possibly in 9:51, since a Lord Rook doesn’t know her either.

Shathann left around early 9:30s, but started working with the Lords soon after their founding, as Antaam attacks on Rivain may have made life more difficult.

Or, less likely I’d think, Shathann left with Taash and started worked with the Lords soon after their founding, so sometime in 9:42-9:46 when Taash was a teenager. It took the Antaam a few years for their attacks to hit Rivain, which is when Taash and their mother started facing more problems.

Assuming Taash did join after Rook left, a year is a short amount of time for all the adventures you hear bits of, but with so much happening it also makes sense.

Grey Wardens

The Grey Wardens, obviously, have been around since the First Blight (Specifically, founded in -305 Ancient), so they’re 1257 years old as of 9:52.

Antivan Crows

The Crows started as an arm of the Chantry in the area around Treviso: The Chant was popularized in Antiva in 1:45 Divine, so it would have been after that. There is supposedly a fair amount of Rivaini culture in the Crows (that’s where the tradition of their tattoos comes from), and the Rivaini-born Queen of Antiva was born 4:30 Black. So it’s possible that the Crows were formed after she came to power and Rivaini culture was more mixed into Antivan, or they could have already been around and that culture was incorporated in later. So they’re potentially somewhere between 500-800 years old.

Mourn Watch

The Mourn Watch are a branch of the Mortalitasi; the Mortalitasi Order was founded by Vitus Fabria, King Caspar Pentaghast’s personal advisor (and a Tevinter mage). Caspar Pentaghast seized control of Nevarra in 2:46 Glory. The Mourn Watch may not have been established right away, and I suppose there’s no way of knowing unless they tell us; was the Mourn Watch established right away, or later, after some kind of corruption or power struggle within the Mortalitasi occurred? So the Mourn Watch is at most 706 in 5:52, potentially younger by a couple hundred years.

ALSO I’ve seen some discussion about when Veilguard takes place; there are notes in the codex dating 9:52 Dragon, so it’s that year (or later I suppose, but I don’t think so) unless we are somehow seeing notes from the future :)

TL:DR my best guesses on Faction foundings and other related dates:

-305 Ancient - The Grey Wardens are founded

1:45 Divine-5:xx Exalted (?) - The Antivan Crows are founded

2:46-2:5x Glory - The Mortalitasi are formed, along with, or sometime thereafter, the Mourn Watch

9:41 Dragon - The events of Dragon Age: Inquisition begin

9:42 Dragon - The conclusion of the event of Inquisition

9:42-9:43 Dragon - Lucerni movement is formed

9:42-9:46 Dragon - The Lords of Fortune are founded

9:44 Dragon - The events of the Trespasser DLC. The Antaam break from the Qun

9:44-9:45 Dragon - The Antaam attack Tevinter cities, including Ventus. Strife is sent to spy on the Antaam

9:47-9:50 Dragon - Arlathan Forest’s magic starts going haywire. The Veil Jumpers are founded

9:49-9:50 Dragon - Maevaris is removed from the Magisterium and the Lucerni are dissolved. The Shadow Dragons are formed.

9:51 Dragon - Rook (from any background) leaves their organization to help Varric.

9:52 Dragon - The events of Dragon Age: The Veilguard begin

So, the Grey Wardens are the oldest, the the Mourn Watch and Antivan Crows are also pretty old. Then the Lords of Fortune, Veil Jumpers, and Shadow Dragons are baby organizations in comparison!

Thanks for reading y’all!

[mintesprig]

I always imagine MC to age in either one of two ways due to what they’ve become in the Devildom.

1. The amount of power they have and powers that have acted upon them (like time traveling, curses, blessings etc) deteriorates their body and they end up dying young.

2. Same reasons but it ends up preserving them as something more/other than human, like a memory trapped in amber.

Personally I do think it would be the second one. It’s not Solomon’s brand of immortality either though, it’s almost more like a living ghost. Or the way that artifacts feel, not so continuous but paused. This is of course if they stay ´human’ and aren’t transformed into something else.