#Transformers: Bumblebee – Win If You Dare

[jsaunderswrites]

IDW is publishing their last Transformers book in a couple of weeks and I want to take this moment to say Bumblebee: Win If You Dare was excellent and it’s a crying shame they didn’t make more books like it.

Fun but seriously told stories aimed at kids, or blatant 80s nostalgia mashups? I know which I (as someone who never existed during the 80s) prefer!

I need to track down a physical copy myself.

[dragonridernoobie]

Bayvers transformers with Optimus, Rachet, and bumblebee with Granny dragon presecon

As she may be cranky when joining the atobots, she just tells them all humanity are her children, all be she is very disappointed in them but warns them she'll might kidnap any orphans to raise as her clutch as animal instincts still there even after many millennia as she still cares for them

Cute! I will try my best, like I'm am saying now on request, thank you for being patient. My hand/arm is still recovering since it takes a bit for me to type.

Bayvers Autobots x Prediction Reader(part 2.)

Ever since they got (Y/N) on their side, they realized she was just like Ratchet. Just more grumpy and older and less of a strict parent.

She slept almost all the time, had a short temper, and nagged about how the autobots always did something wrong, but even though she was a pain. She always helped and gave wise advice.

Though, there where times that they knew they needed to leave her alone. Those times is where she needed her nap, or what the base called it "granny nap".

You never woke her up from those, or she will rain fire on you. She might be old, but she can still beat the living shit out of anyone who even dared to hurt her or wake her.

Even though she finds humans annoying, she told optimus she sees them as her children. This confused the team since they always see her carrying around humans suddenly, like how you would hold a kitten by it's scruf.

It always pissed off Sam the most since he kept getting embarrassed from it. The team and other humans laughed about it, but they weren't safe either.

Ratchet

Ratchet got first hand of how grumpy (Y/N) was

He wanted to study her since it was unknown how predicons acted

When he kept bothering (Y/N) and many warnings later

He found himself pinned down a sleeping (Y/N)

No matter how much or how loud he was being, (Y/N) would not wake up

When he was finally able to get up, he learned quickly to leave (Y/N) alone to sleep.

Or you will be their new pillow

Optimus

Optimus learn how wise (Y/N) was

They where old, older then anyone he knows.

So when he came to them for advice, they told him stories and wisdom he never heard before.

He appreciated how wise and how helpful they where.

He would spend as much time with (Y/N) to listen to their stories.

He soon learned she is almost as old when the first primes where made.

He has was very impressed and honored to meet (Y/N).

Bumblebee

He though that (Y/N) would be slow or at lest weak for how old they where.

Nope

He learned how fast, strong, and tricky (Y/N) can be.

He trained with them and he never was able to land one hit on them.

They either where to fast, clever, used their environment around them, or tricked him.

He learned new tricks and tips from training from (Y/N).

Though, he still trains to Hopfully win at least one match aginst them.

[cartoonbabbles]

Some Breakdown x Bumblebee headcanons since I’m watching Comodin Cam’s G1 marathon video and I’m seeing snippets of G1 breakdown

- I’m headcanoning BD and BB as both young adult (ish)? Like. Transformers maturity wise. Mid 20s is my guess, older than during the height of the war, still plenty of fight in them but they’ve lived enough to have a kind of routine between the two of them.

- BD puts on a cool and confident face for Bee’s sake. If he showed how scared he actually felt, Bee would have forced him to quit the race, and they’d both have gone into hiding. But he knows that both he and Bee like the thrill. It’s their thing

- Bee is slightly younger, BD is going through a crisis. (I mean why wouldn’t he be, he’s a fugitive and a war criminal, but no less than any of the other cybertronians, yet he’s somehow gotten the short end of the stick and doesn’t want to stay to find out what prison is like)

- Bee is super reassuring of how much he cares. Which is tough given how they ended up on opposite sides of the war.

- Bee can technically become a combiner limb. Does this make any sense? No. Fuck you, I want funny combiner shennanigans. Also Knockout can too (yes I’m throwing him in here). The poor other limb (likely Arcee) has to listen to her younger brother girlfail his way through coordinating movements while she’s the one doing the punching)

- Breakdown flusters easily, but likes to flirt and be seen as suave and as hot stuff. He’s a glass cannon and can dish it but can’t take a compliment without popping back into his alt-mode for a breather

- Bee (if they’re alone alone 100% for sure zero agents tailing them) is relentless in his flirting.

- Breakdown doesn’t actually have a driver’s seat. It’s all a hologram. He had a bad experience with a human who tried to drive him recklessly (scratched his new stripes too) so he figured out how to transform and not have any passenger seats on his own. It was painful, and Bee found him two days after a race he was scheduled to be at sulking in a cave, half transformed.

- this is more of a realization but I think the reason Bee started winning races was to take attention away from Breakdown. Notice how Schloeder never realized the same fucking muscle car barely tailing his black and yellow striped quarry

- I saw this funny post about spider man a few months back about how everyone knows who Spidey is or has some personal story with him, and rumors fly but you’ll never get anything if you pry. Same with Bee and Breakdown. Whispers of that time two drivers in sports cars flung their vehicles into a burning building and came out with seven people unharmed. A story about how a giant robot saved a kid from a rabid animal. Maybe a couple of voices deep in the woods comforting a crying teenager, telling them not to give up on asking the person they like out. Schloeder knows those stories are out there and it drives him nuts he can never get any first hand accounts

- Bee and Breakdown shared a garage in the Phillipines post war.

- Breakdown was sympathetic to the original Decepticon cause. He got involved more because the entertainment union took up arms with the original cries for revolution (he’s a Stunticon, and lord knows the Functionist senate didn’t give a damn about who got injured during a show)

- Breakdown painted the stripe himself. He wouldn’t stop bragging about it to Knockout and Bee. This lasted for a month. Knockout and Bee decided to get stripes to match (this is why Bee has stripes on his sports car mode)

- Bee has a human “sister” named Charlie in California he met during the war. She wasn’t a soldier or anything, they just hung out and vented to each other sometimes. One day, after Bee went into hiding, she was feeling bummed out and her car starts talking “yeah I miss him too.” The car was Breakdown. She gives him “the sibling talk” and is all like “if you dare hurt him or break his heart I swear-“ and all that and he’s genuinely scared of her bc he’s seen her disassemble and reassemble cars in her sleep (she did it to Knockout once on accident)

- Bee and BD have never kissed (AND THEY NEVER WILL UNLESS HES ALIVE HASBRO IM BEGGING YOU) but if they were to kiss it would have to rival Alex and Dot’s kiss to the mid season finale with that explosion of Purple Hearts behind them like. GIVE ME GAY MEN I DONT SEE ANY OF THEM BEING MAIN CHARACTERS IN CARTOONS ENOUGH.

- “Hi I’m Bumblebee and this is my boyfriend Breakdown and our husband Knockout and his boyfriend Starscream and his fiancé Soundwave and Soundwave’s friend with benefits who’s ace but still likes to get funky Shockwave and Shockwave’s ex Megatron who’s currently dating Elita and OP who are both married”

- Mo and Twitch ship Bee and Breakdown, though you never find out how they found out (it was Nightshade)

- Breakdown supports trans rights.

- most of the transformers do

- tangent but I feel it would be fucking hilarious if Shockwave were a queer ally but still fucking refuses to address the Terrans

- Breakdown once almost killed the governor of Florida (this one’s for me okay I need my catharsis)

- DW he didn’t but the dude resigned almost immediately after and kept seeing a muscle car coated in pride flag stickers at every stop sign for a month (Breakdown was bored)

- I’ll throw Tarn in here. Tarn has a good ass singing voice. That’s for funsies. Nobody invites him to karaoke though because people will literally do anything he says once he starts singing and that’s how Bee ended up with a tattoo on his (mic gets violently pulled away from me)

[weird-al-song-tourney]

Very glad I found this tournament! Hyped to vote for Dare To Be Stupid at next opportunity. I'm a Transformers fan, it is my legal obligation. For Wreck-Gar, for all the Junkions, and TFTM being best transformers movie!

RIP to Virus Alert, The Night Santa went Crazy or Christmas at Ground Zero, though. Gone too soon </3 /lh

Good luck everyone, and may the best song win!

It's funny we're mentioning transformers movies now, because like

Okay so for the first time in my life, this year, I went to see a movie on my own entirely. And of all the movies, the first movie I ever saw on my own in a theatre was fucking Transformers Rise Of The Beasts.

NOT TO DISCREDIT THE MOVIE I ACTUALLY REALLY LIKED RISE OF THE BEASTS IT WAS REALLY GOOD (FLAWED FOR SURE BUT STILL GOOD) BUT ITS JUST SO FUNNY TO ME THAT OF ALL THE MOVIES, THAT'S THE ONE THAT ENDS UP BEING MY FIRST SOLO EXPERIENCE. Also I think I did well despite how scared I was being on my own. I am making progress it is good.

Okay but as for if TFTM is the best, uh, huh...I've never actually thought about which transformers movie is the best? I think the entirety of the michael bay era movies melted my brain so much that in my mind, every transformers movie has just become a singular mass of crushed soda cans & optimus commiting war crimes every 5 minutes & also just,,,just a lot of racism. Like holy shit the second movie was just so very racist how the fuck did people look at that movie & go "yeah skids & mudflap are great i see nothing wrong here this is totally okay & there is nothing problematic about this at all lets release this as is it's totally cool & stuff guys" I mean Bumblebee & ROTB were good but my brain is still not fully recovered from a decade of bayformers just somehow lowering the bar every single time, dude what the fuck were those movies they feel like feverdreams to me

I mean looking back I still think the first bayformers movie is unironically pretty decent like its perfectly fine. I cannot say the same for any of the sequels except for like the second half of dark of the moon but even then you have to slog through an hour of crap before that movie starts to get better & that's not super good if only about 40% of the movie is actually good but the rest sucks ass

Anyways yeah Christmas at Ground Zero is the one I'm moruning the most lmao, rip to that beloved classic. But even so, every song in this bracket is a banger, they're all winners in that the fact they are in this at all is proof enough that they are indeed, classics. So they will still be in our hearts.

Ok but right I'm getting sidetracked again, glad you found it too. Welcome aboard fellow weird pal.

[graphicpolicy]

Transformers: Bumblebee—Win If You Dare

James Asmus • Marcelo Ferreira (a) • Nicoletta Baldari (c)

Life can feel rough when you aren’t the fastest, or the bravest, or the tallest Autobot, and Bumblebee’s feeling the pressure. When he’s hurt, Bumblebee takes it upon himself to prove his worth to his fellow Autobots. Things get tense as ‘Bee and his new human companion race into action hunting down dangerous foes and a devastating device. It’s ready, set, go in this new exciting ’80s adventure packed filled with laughs and thrills!

TPB • FC • $9.99 • 72 pages • 6” x 9” • ISBN: 978-1-68405-227-1

Transformers: Bumblebee—Win If You Dare preview. Life can feel rough when you aren't the fastest, or the bravest, or the tallest Autobot, and Bumblebee's feeling the pressure #comics #transformers Transformers: Bumblebee—Win If You Dare James Asmus • Marcelo Ferreira (a) • Nicoletta Baldari (c)

[allspark]

It’s time for our weekly Diamond Comics Shipping List! Check out some great titles IDW has in store for us next week like Transformers: Bumblebee – Win If You Dare, Transformers: Unicron, Star Trek vs. Transformers, G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero, Star Trek, and much more! All coming your way for September 12th!

TRANSFORMERS BUMBLEBEE WIN IF YOU DARE TP

James Asmus (A) Marcelo Ferreira, Athila Fabbio

Life can feel rough when you aren’t the fastest, or the bravest, or the tallest Autobot, and Bumblebee’s feeling the pressure. When he’s hurt, Bumblebee takes it upon himself to prove his worth to his fellow Autobots. Things get tense as ‘Bee and his new human companion race into action hunting down dangerous foes and a devastating device. It’s ready, set, go in this new exciting ’80s adventure packed filled with laughs and thrills!

TRANSFORMERS UNICRON #1 2ND PTG

John Barber  (A/CVR) Alex Milne

TRANSFORMERS UNICRON #2 2ND PTG

John Barber (A/CVR) Alex Milne

STAR TREK VS TRANSFORMERS #1

John Barber, Mike Johnson (A/CVR A & B) Philip Murphy

The Transformers ’80s cartoon series meets Star Trek: The Animated Series in a no-holds-barred Saturday Morning mash-up for the ages!

At the edge of Klingon space, the starship Enterprise finds there’s more to the final frontier than meets the eye, when Kirk and his crew come face to face with the strangest life forms of all: Cybertronians! This unprecedented crossover brings together two of the greatest science fiction universes of all time-in the style of their classic animated series! A five-year mission meets a four-million-year war!

Written by two titans of their respective properties, John Barber (Optimus Prime, Transformers: Robots in Disguise, Transformers: Bumblebee Movie Prequel) and Mike Johnson (the most prolific Star Trek comic book writer of ALL TIME!)!

•   Philip Murphy’s A & B covers connect to form an amazing heroes and villains image!

GI JOE A REAL AMERICAN HERO #256

Larry Hama (A/CVR A) Ron Joseph (CVR B) John Royle

“The Cobra’s Venom,” Part 1 (of 5)! With a dangerously mysterious weapons shipment enroute to Springfield, can our Real American Heroes-at home and abroad-find a way to stop the evil machinations of… Dr. Venom?! A bombastic new chapter of G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero lore from living legend Larry Hama and exciting new artist Ron Joseph (Revolutionaries)!

•   The start of an exciting new story arc! Great jumping on point for new readers! •   First of five JOE/COBRA vehicle/gear-themed RI covers by Jamie Sullivan!

DUCKTALES VOL 03 QUESTS AND QUACKS TP

Joe Caramagna, Joey Cavaleri (A) Gianfranco Florio, Luca Usai (A/CVR) Marco Ghiglione

Tales from the heart of Duckburg and beyond! This volume collects stories inspired by the critically acclaimed Disney Channel series, as Scrooge and company face off against brand new threats-and a few familiar ones too! Scrooge and company deal with magical relics, dastardly ghosts, and one of Scrooge’s greatest threats: a risk assessor from an insurance company! Plus, see the return of classic villains The Beagle Boys! This volume features six new tales from issues #6-8 of the ongoing series.

HAUNTED HORROR #35

Various (A) Various (CVR) Al Avison

You can’t run! You can’t hide! 48 putrid pages of frightful, fiendish fun-in fact, put on your best red dress, HH fans, because your FUNeral is about to begin!

LOWLIFES #4

Brian Buccellato (A) Alexis Sentenac (CVR) Brian Buccellato

In the seedy Los Angeles underworld, lives intersect like freeway overpasses. When a crime boss’s poker game is robbed, three lowlifes-a bad cop, a drug addict, and a haunted criminal-attempt to stay one step ahead of each other, because redemption or destruction is their only ticket out…

•   From New York Times bestselling writer Brian Buccellato (Injustice: Gods Among Us, Sons of the Devil) comes this neo-noir thriller! •   With sun-drenched streets and shadowy alleys skillfully illustrated by French artist Alexis Sentenac (Siberia 56)!

REAL SCIENCE ADVENTURES NICODEMUS JOB #3

Brian Clevinger (A/CVR A) Meredith McClaren (CVR B) Sarah Leuver

Ever wondered how to sneak a cart, a donkey, and five thieves into the Imperial Library of Constantinople to steal half a dozen heretical texts from the most secure vault of forbidden knowledge in the ancient world? Well, this is the comic for you!

STAR TREK TNG TERRA INCOGNITA #3

Scott Tipton, David Tipton (A) Angel Hernandez (CVR A) Tony Shasteen (CVR B) Photo

On the heels of the blockbuster THROUGH THE MIRROR miniseries comes a brand-new NEXT GENERATION series, featuring untold tales of Captain Jean-Luc Picard and the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise-D! With a high-ranking Federation official’s life hanging in the balance, Doctor Selar faces a difficult decision when she must choose between her responsibility as a physician and her adherence to Vulcan philosophy.

STAR TREK TNG THROUGH THE MIRROR TP

Scott Tipton, David Tipton (A) Chris Johnson, Marcus To, Various (CVR) J. K. Woodward

The Mirror Universe Next Generation crew is looking for new worlds to conquer, and they’re crossing over to the Prime Star Trek Universe to find them! When the Enterprise-D discovers a burned-out, pillaged Andorian vessel, the search for the culprits behind it leads to some startlingly familiar faces. But, how did the Mirror Universe crew find their way to ours, and what does Emperor Spock have to do with it? Plus, it’s interstellar espionage aboard the Enterprise-D when the Mirror Universe crew infiltrates Captain Picard’s ship!

•   “An absolute blast for Star Trek fans.”-ComicBook.com

  Join the IDW Hasbro Shared Universe related conversation here in our Comics Discussion and Reviews section and here for all other franchises, superheroes, or general comic book discussions! Not a member? Join our community by creating your own free account here! Or jump right into the live chat on our Discord server or our Facebook Group!

IDW Comics Shipping List for September 12th! It’s time for our weekly Diamond Comics Shipping List! Check out some great titles IDW has in store for us next week like 

[sixeyesgojo]

Team Gojo as flowers

Summary: Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara and Sukuna as types of flowers

Characters: stated above

Content warning: mild manga spoilers

Word count: -

A/N: I’d appreciate feedback here (and in general) because I’m not sure whether to do this kind of hc for other JJK characters or not. I am thinking of Toge in particular because I love my salmon boy. Also fyi, this was some time after 135 but before 140 for sure.

Gojo Satoru  - Nemophila

I just saw these and immediately thought about how good they would suit him???

another name for them would be baby blue eyes (no, I had no idea beforehand)

they symbolize prosperity, victory, success or triumph over an enemy

flashback to Gojo beating Jogo tf up... but add a nemophila field in the background <3

That being said, his profile literally states that he is perfect in every way (except for his personality but we still love that, right?), so if this isn't success in every way then idk

This flower's essence is also said to be helpful for those who put up a mask over their painful sensitivity

Gojo also displays characteristics of cynism and mistrust towards the higher-ups

Furthermore, I think he is a little anti-social - doesn't have a lot of friends. As someone from the secret Jujutsu World, he's bound to be hidden in a way. This is enforced by the fact that he is the strongest, so a lot of people and curses are out to get his head. I'd think he doesn't keep anyone too close to him so that they do not become a target for anyone. Must be traumatizing to be him.

This flower helps soothen the soul's conflict, healing it slowly, which is exactly what Gojo needs imo

it really is the perfect flower for him

but it's native to North America

Yeah, watch him teleport there to bring back a bouquet of them for his s/o

Itadori Yuji - Protea (orange)

This kind of flower comes in many different shapes, which is why it's a symbol of transformation, which is exactly what Yuji embodies by going from a regular human being to being a Jujutsu sorcerer

Diversity: Yuji is open to anything, Gojo even described him as "having a few screws loose up there". I don't even think he questions how he is being taught by Gojo or anything for that matter?

Yuji also embodies courage and is known to be daring and i don't think i need to explain this one further

I mean, the boy literally jumped right into a curse to rescue Sasaki and Iguchi and help Megumi while not even knowing what a curse is

Orange proteas represent cheerfulness, joy and happiness - if that isn't our sunshine boy, then idk. After what happened to Junpei, he seemed a little down at first but recent episodes have shown that he will not slow down because of that and will keep on being the energetic fluffball of joy that he is.

moreover, they also symbolize unlimited possibilities as his cursed technique so far probably isn't even his final technique yet - compared to Nobara's hammer and Megumi's shikigami. All we know is that Sukuna's techniques are going to be his over time but we don't even know the full extent of the said curse's power yet

If anyone ever mentioned all this to him and showed him the flower, he would think it looks weird at first but will grow to find it interesting (especially the shape). It's not like the flower is native to Japan, so he most likely wouldn't have seen it anywhere.

Gets really excited if you were to give this baby one of these flowers

Fushiguro Megumi - Anemone (purple)

hear me out

The most common symbol for the purple Anemone is 'protection against evil'. While it's Megumi's primary focus in his line of work as a professional, you ought to know he became a sorcerer in the first place because of his sister, Tsukimi.

Fragility: While Megumi shows a lot of potential for growth, it's also said that he will most likely stagnate due to the mental aspect. He's pretty insecure about his own abilities and doesn't think much of himself but that doesn't mean he won't use his powers in order to protect someone.

Anticipation: As previously stated, Megumi shows a lot of potential as a sorcerer, even to the point that Sukuna (mind you, the creature that only cares about himself) has praised him and will not hesitate to make Megumi a pawn to whatever his big, mysterious plans may be. With that being said, if Sukuna himself is interested in our blue-haired boy, we can anticipate great things from Megumi in the foreseeable future.

This specific flower seems to be a double-edged sword in terms of symbolism. In some cultural circles, it is believed to be a symbol of bad luck, whereas in other areas it's seen as a lucky charm (in which we hope this is the one for our boy). I see the same principle applying to Megumi's descent and his mysterious technique - not gonna elaborate further though (feel free to ask though)

a rather dark symbol for this particular flower: "death of a loved one". In this case, I am referring to Tsukimi, his step-sister. She may not be dead but it is indicated that she is in a comatose state due to being cursed. It seems that Megumi does not know when - or rather whether - she will wake up or not. Knowing this boy, he probably has tried anything and everything in his power to wake her up (hell, he probably even consulted Gojo) but nothing worked so far. This poor boy is anxious about it all the time.

he's surprised anyone would even associate him with flowers but wouldn't mind it

Kugisaki Nobara - Orchid (mainly orange)

I had some trouble finding something for her but orchids seem to suit her best

couldn't really pick a particular color though but I am leaning towards orange

orange orchids represent: pride, enthusiasm and boldness

Nobara is very proud of who she is. She strikes me as a person who is not afraid to tell her story, even though she despices the countryside where she is from. She also takes pride in staying true to herself all the time, to the point of admitting that she only enrolled in Jujutsu High so that she could move to Tokyo to Yuji, who was basically a stranger at that time

She is also very enthusiastic about her own future. She knows she won't ever like having to exorcise curses but somehow, being a Jujutsu sorcerer excites her.

plus points for her being enthusiastic about winning in the Kyoto Goodwill Event Arc and just beating up the Kyoto students

I don't need to mention her being enthusiastic about shopping and sightseeing in big cities, do I?

Bold? Oh, she is bold. She has no filter when it comes to speaking her mind and would never hesitate to put anyone in their place. I see her going places in Gojo's revolution... and cussing at the superiors.

Yellow symbolizes new beginnings and friendships. Nobara does not have any problems making new friends, she adapts fairly well in new environments. There's also the way she mourned for Yuji, despite "only knowing him for two weeks" and I don't even doubt for a second that it was her making him hold the black funeral picture frame when he came back lol

Pink: grace, femininity, joy + purple: royalty and admiration

There is no doubt that Nobara tries to enjoy her life to the fullest *cough* moving to Tokyo

Moreover, there is something about her that just screams "queen behavior" to me and I don't even mean that in the slang sense. Have you all seen how graceful this girl moves? (I would like to thank MAPPA at this point)

Nobara shows respect where it's due - I'm just gonna mention Maki here - but is a very admirable girl herself

probably has an orchid plant in her room, ngl

Ryomen Sukuna - Snapdragon

please, the name already sounds a little dangerous

This flower shares a certain character trait with him: being unique

Snapdragons are usually associated with strength due to the way they even grow in rocky areas and if that's not screaming Sukuna's name, who is all about strength, then correct me

Deviousness is practically Sukuna's second name, so this symbol isn't exactly off the track either. Let me remind you about the way Sukuna and Mahito laughed at Yuji??

Graciousness: just like Nobara, he possesses some sort of grace that makes me percept him as a majestic being

but maybe that's just his throne of bones and title as King of Curses contributing

and him owning a shrine???

or maybe that is just the way he majestetically killed that special grade lol

"Only large insects like bumblebees can pollinate snapdragons because the petals are too heavy for smaller insects to push apart." I read this and if you reverse it a little, it somehow reminded me of the fact that Sukuna's fingers need to have a powerful vessel aka small fry won't do because they will simply die away.

Deception: despite being given the minimum amount of information about Sukuna in general, I just don't see him being anything but egoistic and evil. I just cannot picture it. So yeah, put everything evil in a pot, stir a little and don't be surprised if your result is not the Powerpuff girls but a four-eyed multi-talented and deceptive curse that is out to kill you for fun

[hardygalwrites]

FanFiction.Net Link

(image source)

Cartoon: Transformers Animated

Characters: Bumblebee and Starscream, with an brief appearance from Jazz

Synopsis: The Decepticons have successfully conquered Cybertron. Megatron, being the merciful mech he is, has allowed the surviving Autobots to continue living their lives and coexist with the newly arrived Decepticons. A few Autobots, however, are not so lucky...

Note: Originally published on FFN late in 2017. Inspired by Take It Easy by Alixier on FFN. TW for physical ab*se

—

To make one's way through the streets of Kaon was a slow task. And with a slagging Decepticon jet fighter on his tailpipe, 'slow' was the very last thing Bumblebee needed.

The little Autobot frantically pushed his way through the crushing crowd, spark fluttering and hydraulics pumping. He needed to get to the Kaon city square - it was considerably less crowded there. He would have enough room to transform and maybe, just maybe he would be able to get enough distance between himself and Starscream in order to escape. This, combined with the familiar sound of wings cutting through the air above him, was enough incentive for Bumblebee to push himself harder than he had ever thought possible.

What Bumblebee didn't realize, however, was that the crushing crowds were the very reason that Starscream hadn't already gotten his servos on him. The streets were too jam packed for the Decepticon to even consider landing. Bringing the chase to Kaon City square was much more a break for Starscream than it was for Bumblebee, and Starscream knew it. He transformed and landed moments before Bumblebee emerged from the crowd, just in time to see the panic in the Autobot's optics as he realized what a grave mistake he had made.

Though the little bot did attempt a frantic retreat, it took Starscream little effort to seize him by the back struts and lift him into the air.

Cackling in his captive's face, Starscream gloated, "You can't run, Auto–!"

"No!" A single word, but punctuated by a well-aimed kick to Starscream's faceplates.

The Decepticon seeker dropped Bumblebee with a shout, reacting more out of surprise than pain. Surprise was replaced quickly by fury, and Starscream seized Bumblebee by the stabilizing servo, once again thwarting the little bot's attempt at escape.

"Enough, you insolent little–!"

"No! Get off me! Slaggit, get off'a me!"

The surrounding bots were starting to take notice of the commotion (thanks in no small part to Bumblebee's nonstop shouting). Most of them passed by the spectacle with nothing more than a glance and a smirk. Many more stopped by to spectate. These bots nudged and whispered to each other, some regarding the struggle with sad optics, most laughing and making snide comments between themselves. Not one of them attempted to intervene.

Starscream grit his denta, holding the wriggling little Autobot at arm's length. "This is getting tiresome, Autobot!" he snapped.

"Let go of me, you slagging Decepticon!" the Autobot screamed in response. "Let me go, let me go, let me go!"

Starscream shook him in an effort to shut him up. "We've been through this an innumerable amount of times, you infuriating bug! You cannot escape me!"

"I can too! Let me go!"

"Yield!" Starscream shook him again. "Yield!"

"No!"

A scream of frustration escaped Starscream's vocal processor, and he threw the Autobot to the ground, effectively cutting off the constant screaming and swearing. As Starscream glared at the stunned Autobot, vents whirring harshly, he started to notice the crowd. The spectating bots were continuing to mutter amongst themselves, and while some were shooting glances at Bumblebee, most were pointing both digits and optics at Starscream. Feeling his faceplates heat up slightly, the Decepticon seeker grit his denta, composed himself in the most dignified manner possible, and stalked towards his Autobot victim.

Bumblebee was just starting to regain his wits. Groaning, he pushed himself up, and that's when he saw Starscream coming down on him again. Bumblebee's vents hitched and gasped. Frantically, the little Autobot pushed himself back, but Starscream's long stride looked to catch up to him within seconds.

Then, a white-chassised mech stepped out from the crowd, right between Starscream and his target, halting the seeker in his tracks.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" the mech said cooly, looking up at Starscream through a blank blue visor.

Starscream stared back down at the mech uncomprehendingly, until his optics caught the insignia on the mech's red-and-blue-striped chestplates. Faceplates morphing, the seeker spat, "Step aside, Autobot. This doesn't concern you."

"What, you beatin' on a youngling less than half your size?" The mech crossed his servos with a scoff. "I know this town's been slated for crashville, but somebot's gonna get bent outta shape over that."

"That bot belongs to me, and I will not let you get in my way!" Starscream thrust a servo at the mech's face, intending to shove him aside, only for the mech to catch it in his own servo. "What on Cybertron–?"

The mech shoved Starscream's servo away. "Well, if he 'belongs' t' you, I'd say that's all the more reason t' get bent outta shape, you dig?"

Starscream swung his claws at the mech with a snarl, an attack the mech easily dodged. Growling, Starscream turned his null ray on the mech. "Do you have any idea who I am, Autobot?!" he screamed, powering up his weapon.

"Hey, what's going on here!?" A few Kaon Police officers shoved their way through the crowd and into the scene.

Powering down the null ray, Starscream was quick to point an accusing digit at the white mech. "This Autobot assaulted me unprovoked!"

The mech, of course, pleaded his innocence, but no bot in the crowd dared to back him up and the officers were naturally skeptical. As it became clear that he was not going to win, the mech's cool finally started to crack slightly, allowing Starscream a smirk as the mech was lead away, throwing out every insult imaginable.

Then, Starscream he caught a flash of yellow out of the corner of his optic. His smirk disappeared. In the blink of an optic, Starscream had yanked Bumblebee out from the crowd, servo easily circling the little bot's neck.

"Thought you could escape that time, did you?" Starscream snapped, a hint of smugness added to his biting tone.

Once again though, the seeker found himself at the centre of attention. He turned on the crowd, scowling. "Don't you bots have anything else to do?"

The crowd continued to glance and mutter amongst themselves. Slowly though, they began to disperse and go about their daily lives.

Bumblebee's spark shrank. Venting harshly, he struggled against Starscream's freakishly large servo. "Get off'a me...!"

"Oh, no, you don't!" Starscream tightened his servo and once again slammed Bumblebee into the ground. Getting onto one knee joint, the brutal Decepticon then pulled the small, battered Autobot upright onto his own knee joints, and hissed into his audial receptor.

"Look around you. Everyone is gone. Decepticons. Autobots." Starscream swept open his free arm, indicating to the surrounding city. "Cybertron is a Decepticon home world now. Whatever camaraderie you might think exist between you Autobots is gone.

"Look at them all." The seeker sneered at the crowd, a mixture of Decepticons and Autobots going about their day. "Just attempting to live those lives the ever great Megatron so generously granted them. They aren't willing to risk giving that up. No one will help you - you belong to me!"

Bumblebee flinched as the last word was screamed into his audial receptor. He tried to break free, but the attempt was half-sparked. He tried to block out Starsceams words, but he couldn't. So many 'if onlys' were spinning through his processor - if only Starscream had never spotted him; if only he hadn't run into Kaon city square; if only he had pulled himself together sooner, while Jazz had been distracting Starscream; if only someone else had helped him... Starscream was only putting into words something that Bumblebee had been suspecting for a long time.

If he had been human, Bumblebee was pretty sure he would have been doing that crying thing right about now.

"No," he mumbled. "I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone."

Starscream smirked. "You keep telling yourself that, Autobot."

Standing up, Starscream pulled Bumblebee to his stabilizing servos. Bumblebee writhed uncomfortably. The seeker's hold had been transferred to the little bot's back struts, and though it was still firm and unyielding, it was significantly gentler compared to anything else Bumblebee had felt under Starscream's servos.

"But whatever you tell yourself," Starscream continued amiably. "You do realize how much easier it would be to just stop resisting, don't you? I doubt your friends have caused this much trouble."

Every part of Bumblebee's chassis tensed. He tried not to think too much about his friends, especially since he wasn't too sure where most of them were. The most he could guess was that Prime was stuck under Megatron, but everyone else... Again, Bumblebee tried not to think about it. His imagination did tend to come up with some of the worst scenarios that could be conceived.

"I'm a resister," Bumblebee replied simply, pushing those troubling thoughts aside. "I have a reputation to keep."

Once again, his chassis tensed as he waited for Starscream's inevitable freak-out. Instead, Starscream's hold simply tightened slightly and the seeker himself let out a low chuckle.

"Don't we all? I have a reputation to keep myself, Autobot. That's why I can't have you running around, causing a scene." Starscream flicked at one of his captive's little horns, earning himself a wince and a grumble of displeasure. "Besides, didn't I warn you that another little escapade like this would result in you being locked up in solitary... indefinitely?"

"No!" Bumblebee yanked himself free of Starscream's grasp, but instead of bolting, he turned on the significantly larger bot, looking up at him with optics full of panic. "Please, don't! I won't- I-I promise I won't do it again! I promise I'll be good! I'll- I'll do anything! I promise! Just... please... don't... Please..."

Faltering, Bumblebee dropped to his knee joints, faceplates in servo.

Starscream stared down at the little bot, optics wide. He knew how much the Autobot hated isolation, but he hadn't quite expected this reaction. Perhaps one too many solitary sessions had finally broken the irritating little bug.

That was fine by Starscream.

"Get up," he ordered.

Bumblebee obeyed, helm hanging low. Starscream placed a guiding servo at the little bot's back, and the two bots proceeded to walk back towards Starscream's apartment.

Starscream's apartment was at the very top of one of the highest complexes of the city, and it was more of a suite than anything. It took up the entire top floor. One could see the entire city from up their. Starscream liked it. Sometimes, he would jump off and enjoy the feeling of a free-fall, before transforming and activating his engines at the last possible moment. It made him feel more powerful than he actually was.

"Go clean yourself up, and meet me in the berth room," Starscream said as soon as the two of them entered the suite. He smirked as the little bot obeyed without so much as a remark.

As he himself walked towards the berth room, the glint of one of the many cameras caught Starscream's optic. He glanced at it, glaring, and quickly entered his berth room. Of course, another camera was waiting for him there, but he tried to ignore it. As much as Starscream liked the suite and its powerful viewpoint, those cameras always succeeded in spoiling the enjoyment for him.

Bumblebee, meanwhile, got himself clean. The scratches and dents couldn't really be helped - Starscream would never care to let him fix anything cosmetic, and the dents usually required some kind of paltry medical attention. As he left the washroom, Bumblebee avoided optic-contact with the mirror.

His recharge berth was in the same room as Starscream's recharge berth. The room certainly beat that old cell Bumblebee had been forced into during his first several cycles under Starscream's stabilizing servo, but something about it almost made Bumblebee prefer the cell. After all, there were plenty of other rooms in the suite, and yet Starscream made him recharge there.

Speaking of Starscream, the larger bot was looking out over the city, nursing an exotic oil blend, when Bumblebee entered the berth room. Bumblebee hung back, but Starscream, without turning, crooked a digit in his direction.

"Come closer."

Bumblebee obliged. He stopped alongside the towering Decepticon, helm low and optics on the grooves in the floor.

"You don't want to undergo a solitary session."

It wasn't a question.

Bumblebee's servos clenched. "N-no... No, I don't."

Starscream took a sip from his oil blend. "But you did run away again."

Bumblebee yelped as Starscream's servo caught the top of his helm.

"So, tell me, Autobot," the seeker continued, optics still aimed out the window and vocal processor dangerously low. "What exactly is keeping me from throwing you into solitary right now?"

Bumblebee's own vocal processor seemed to be uncharacteristically non-functional as he grasped at the servo attached to his helm. The most the formerly chatty bot could get out was a tight, "Please... Don't..."

"Or what, Autobot?" Starscream hissed. "You haven't given me much incentive to the contrary."

"Please," Bumblebee gasped, finally finding his vocal processor. "I promise I won't be bad again."

Starscream cackled. "Your reputation doesn't make your promises very valid, Autobot."

"I really promise!" Bumblebee exclaimed, vocals hiking up a pitch, if that were possible. "I'll never try to escape again, I swear! I'll- I'll do whatever you want!"

This gave Starscream a pause. "Including acknowledge me as your sole lord and master?"

"Yes! Yes! Anything! Just–"

"Do it."

"What?"

"Do it!" Starscream snapped, looking down at the little bot for the first time since he had entered the room. "Acknowledge me as your sole lord and master! Prove that your promises are valid!"

Bumblebee looked up at Starscream as best he could with the heavy servo still attached to his helm, optics betraying hesitancy.

"Do it!"

The next few moments seemed to be an eternity as Starscream glared downward and Bumblebee stared upward. Then, Bumblebee's servos dropped to his sides. His helm drooped. His vocals were quiet and tired as he spoke.

"I acknowledge you as my sole lord and master..."

A triumphant smirk appeared on Starscream's face. He tossed the Autobot aside. "Go recharge."

Bumblebee stumbled as he landed, but managed to keep himself stabilized. Without a word, he walked over to his berth in the far corner and lay down. Ordinarily, he would have been back in the cell or stuck in solitary after an escapade like this. But not this time. And yet, it felt as though he had lost some long-standing battle, and that feeling ate at Bumblebee's spark. It continued to eat at his spark as he drifted into a fitful recharge.

As Bumblebee drifted off, Starscream couldn't help but shoot a smug look at the berth room camera. He finished his oil blend and cast a look towards his little prize. The recharging bot shuddered slightly. Starscream smirked, and left the room. Finally, after so much time spent locked in figurative battle, he had beaten the stubborn little Autobot and erased that irritating rebellious streak. Starscream would gladly accept the victory.

Meanwhile, somehow deep in his restless recharge, Bumblebee saw himself finally winning against Starscream. Never again was he going to lose to that slagging Decepticon. In real life, Bumblebee smiled as, in his dreams, he placed triumphant stabilizing servo atop the screechy bot.

That streak was still there. Neither Starscream, nor even Bumblebee knew this, but the streak was still there. A rebellious streak never to be broken.

[eldritch-araneae]

Gosh, I don't think I will ever calm down until I see a proper writing for Bumblebee in canon media!! I don't care how many time he will appear, I want this to happen!!

It damn absurd that Transformers exist for such long time, but only two issue story "Go for a Gold" and "Win if you Dare" and old comic issue "Plight of Bumblebee" came CLOSE to what I wanna see!!

Like come oooooon writers! Amazing, relatable, interesting character arc for Bumblebee is right there!!! *cries*

This is why I'm making my own continuity as Bee as main protag. But daaamn idk if this ever gonna reach bug audience ahahah

Writing is hard.

[sparklingpax]

What It Costs

Love is sweet, love is loyalty, love is unwavering, love is....sacrifice. Sometimes, one does not remember the last part until it is simply....too late. 

///

A/N:

-Angst. This is angst. If some of y’all don’t like that stuff and/or are bothered by it, click off or scroll by, please. Thanks. 

-Hhhhh speaking of that, I’ll have you know I’m terrible at this kind of writing. I gave it my all, however. I hope I did passably, at least...^^’’

-Um......I am very sorry if I made any errors, be it a typo or misinformation about something/someone, etc. I wrote a lot of this very late at night or at ungodly hours of the morning.....so that might explain a little of it ^~^’’ I’ll read through it as many times as possible after posting so I can catch and fix as many of those mistakes as possible....

-I’ll make this quick; sorry again to anyone who saw this the first time ^^’’ But this time, I’ve posted it intentionally so I hope you enjoy!! :’D 

-This is only one, long part so dw about cliffhangers or waiting 10 centuries a long time for me to finish it :3 

-Set in the TFP universe! And obviously, my attempt at some official OptiRatch content! :)

The sky was a dull, bleak grey.

Icy rain pelted the earth, pouring from the stormy skies with a vengeance as harsh winds tossed them around with an ominous whistling.

Yet the real storm had materialized inside the rocks—in the simple silo base where the Autobots resided.

               Today, the children had not been able to come to the base.

             Miko was in detention, Jack was busy working overtime at his job, and Raf was studying for a exam.

             It was just one of those days.

             “Thank Primus for peace and quiet!” Ratchet would have remarked as he usually did on days such as this.

             However, things were all but calm—even as a prickly silence filled the air.

///

             “I…I cannot let you do that…” Optimus stammered at last. He bowed his head and shifted his gaze to the left, clearly uncomfortable. “It is only a mere relic, not worth the life—”

             A fist pounded the wall, leaving a blackened scuff mark in the metal.

             “DON’T YOU CARE?!” Ratchet practically screamed. Optimus’s eyes rounded with guilt as he turned his gaze back to the medic sharply.

             “Of course I—”

             “Then GET IT THROUGH YOUR HEAD, OPTIMUS—” he hit the wall next to him once again, with more force. “It’s not about you!!!”

             He spat those words so coldly, so jarringly sharp, Optimus felt his spark twist.

             Old friend…I do not think you understand my intent at all…please be patient with me…

             The Prime opened his mouth to speak, but Ratchet flashed him an even harsher glare, silencing any further words. Optimus again cast his eyes momentarily to the floor.

             Pushing past his leader, Ratchet raised his fist, not turning to face Optimus, and flipped up his middle finger.

             Optimus would have given an amused laugh.

             ‘Did one of the children teach you that custom?’ he wanted to ask jokingly, teasingly.

             Agent Fowler had done it enough times for Optimus to understand what it meant.

             But all he could do was stare after his medic as the older mech stalked over to the groundbridge controls. All kinds of alarms were going off in Optimus’s head, and yet all he could do was…watch.

             Perhaps he could take no more of Ratchet’s harsh attitude—the anger that emanated off his old friend.

             Perhaps he really wasn’t making the right decision, but Ratchet was.

             Or perhaps…

             You’re a coward, Optimus. A big, strong, coward.

             “I’ll find the relic myself,” Ratchet announced to the other bots. Up until then, they had, unmoving and tense, watched the argument which had preceded all this.

             Don’t go, my Starlight…or at least…let me go with you…But the Prime stood immobile, watching the old bot speak.

             “I’ll find it myself and win us the war,” he repeated, still trembling with rage from minutes before. He turned that sharply angered expression—now laced with disdain—at the Autobot leader. “And I don’t need any backup.”

             A swirling portal of green, white, and purple roared to life when the medic shoved the lever downwards, his expression only grim now. Without saying anymore, he then turned and transformed. An ambulance raced through the portal and disappeared seconds later.

             While the Prime lingered absentmindedly near the bridge, eyes focusing on no one thing as he stared around, deep in thought, Bumblebee carefully padded over and pulled the lever up. The swishing, humming noise quickly faded as the groundbridge portal did, and silence rested over them once again.  

             Except that silence was still not peaceful.

             Optimus soon found himself speaking, not really thinking as he did.

             “Woah—you sure, Optimus?” Bulkhead asked, eyes widened a bit nervously. “I mean, no offense but…Ratchet might rip you to shreds…”

             ‘He looked pretty mad,’ Bumblebee agreed quietly.

             “If something were to happen to him, it would be my fault,” Optimus found himself saying. “For that reason, please reopen the groundbridge.”

             You scared of the blame, Optimus?

             You don’t want to be incriminated?

             Are you making this about you?

             Do you really care?

             Optimus didn’t want to shake those questions away just yet. He was unsure of their answers. The Prime wished his mind was where his body was, yet as he transformed and drove through the bridge, his thoughts continued to wander.

             They taunted him, echoing his medic’s scornful words.

             Why don’t you go after the relic, the one thing that could save us? Who cares if Megatron is there with all his troops? What makes that different from any other of your confrontation with him?

             A heavy feeling sat in the bottom of his stomach—a foreboding sense.

             Often—they say—if your loved one is in danger, you can feel it.

             Optimus pushed harder on the gas, thinking only of what was going to take place if he did not reach his friend quickly enough.

             The day was dark, cold, and rainy.

///

             Ratchet pressed his back against the side of a tall rock, not daring to peer again at the action taking place in the center of the clearing. He heard the footsteps of some vehicons heading his way. They drew their guns as they got closer.

             Above him, the dead-looking gray skies has stilled, leaving the air feeling taut—like it was holding its breath and ready snap any second.  

             The storm from Jasper must be close by, considering I bridge to—

             Ratchet gritted his teeth and snapped himself back to focusing on the current situation.

             The medic felt his spark racing. His arms began to tremor uncontrollably as he drew them upwards to get into a fighting stance.

             They saw you. They saw you and it hasn’t been more than 8 minutes you’ve been here. What a successful mission. It’s just you against Megatron and hundreds of vehicons. And—

             He glanced down at his leg a little worriedly.

             He’d jumped into action a week before and received a blow to the leg he was still healing from. At this very moment, in fact, he felt a faint aching start up again in his knee.

             Ratchet let his head fall against the rock, eyes squeezed shut, swallowing hard and drawing out his own blades.

             You idiot.

             He counted the seconds before attack.

             Optimus was right.

             “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! BRING HIM TO ME NOW!!” Megatron’s furiously growled order broke the tense silence.

             Instantly the slow footsteps became sets of scrambling feet, quickly heading for the rock. A second later, Ratchet watched (and heard) a shot of crimson red blaster fire whiz past his helm. Instinctively, he let out a cry of shock and stumbled to the side—right out from behind the rock.

             Before he could regain his footing to even turn around, the silence exploded into the deafening sound of hundreds of shots aimed for him. The medic turned and faced it, wincing and sucking in a sharp breath as one or two grazed his plating.

             He charged, strangely feeling almost a little….detached from his own body. Like he was on autopilot.

             “For Cybertron!!!” He heard a voice shout.

             What….am I doing here?

             “FOR VICTORY!!!”

             Oh…it was his voice. Right.

             The orange-white-plated mech swerved past the blaster fire, swinging his arms—now blades—back, forth, up, down….

             Optimus, forgive me. I was a fool. I was a prideful fool.

             He ducked a shot and kicked out, catching the vehicon by surprise and knocking him off his feet. Almost one motion, the old bot maintained his momentum and swung his blades at an oncoming opponent.

             The con dodged smoothly. He raised his gun and fired.

             Just as Ratchet thought to spring in the other direction, his knee gave out beneath him. Ratchet tripped over himself, grabbing his knee.

             Right in the path of the vehicon’s shot.  

             A shot ripped through his shoulder, followed by another closer to his neck, tearing from the medic such an ugly, guttural cry that even the vehicon flinched. The medic crumpled to the floor in a writhing heap of short, agonized exclamations.

             Meanwhile, the vehicon’s gun wavered a bit, drawing back a second. Ratchet’s pained noises faded from the air of the clearing, replaced only by the sound of his tremoring breath. Clearly struggling, the medic reached over and clasped his shoulder so hard his digits shook. A small flow of energon began to leak through, soiling his servos and the dirt surrounding his figure. Turning his face to the con, he let his eyes show off his anger.

             In a smaller, quavering voice, he managed to say, “C-coward…hold y-your…w-w-weapon….straight why don’t you—” He spat out, wheezing a bit, then falling limp into the ground. Not unconscious, but simply out of strength.

             Or…will to live.

             The Vehicon shook its head and held the gun firmly upwards again. The weapon was trained directly on Ratchet’s helm.

             Just at that moment, the skies snapped.

             A bellowing rumble of thunder sounded, the clouds suddenly looking bigger, darker, greyer….

             It’s pointless…we’ll just lose, won’t we? Like we always do. Megatron will have his way today, and he’ll have his way until he kills all of us and ends this fragging war….

             Ratchet looked up, hearing a low, gravelly cackle.

             Speak of the devil and he doth appear—is that not the phrase?

             The medic let out a little moan, rolling over onto his side, still clasping a hand to his bleeding wound. His gaze, sharp with pain and yet dull with exhaustion, stared ahead to see the vehicon back away twitchily.

             Megatron’s footsteps shook the ground a little as he stalked in Ratchet’s direction. The huge figure of the ex-gladiator soon towered over Ratchet. He smirked a little, slowly folding his hands behind his back and tilting his head.

             “Ratchet….” he paused to chuckle. “Tell me, what ever did you think you were going to accomplish?”

             “T….the relic—” he hissed tightly, breaking off abruptly to suppress a noise of pain as his shoulder burned with pain under his grip. His optics, trained on Megatron’s sneering face, spoke more than a thousand words of hate and fire.

             Megatron laughed out loud.

             “Oh, you must mean—” he turned and make a rough motion at the vehicons behind him. The one holding the escape pod immediately scurried across the clearing to them. “This trinket?” He asked, grabbing the object from his  soldier.

             The pod hadn’t been opened yet.

             The pod hasn’t been opened yet. The weapon is still inside.

             Ratchet let his mind fixate on that one thought.

             There is time still….if I can just…..

             Megatron started one of his small monologues, something Ratchet wasn’t listening to. He switched on his comm link as discreetly as he could. Pride was not of importance now, Ratchet told himself.

             Optimus had been right, and he knew it. It would be entirely foolish not to try to—

             “Ratchet?”

             Megatron instantly stopped dead in his tracks. His head whipped around as he processed the voice. His eyes darkened when he registered.  

             “I see.” Was all he growled in a chillingly quiet voice.

             “Ratchet, what is going—”

             The medic fumbled to switch it off again, internally kicking himself for so stupid a plan. Of course his idiot sparkmate would call out to him the instant his switched on his comm lines again!

             He meant well, Ratchet. He loves you. He cares about you. Keep that in mind.

             Ratchet let out a grunt of both pain and frustration.

             Optimus, hurry! There isn’t anymore time!

             Ratchet watched as Megatron dropped to his level and grabbed his chin. Mustering all his confidence, the medic stared with an unwavering gaze right back.

             “You’re a fool, Autobot. Much more foolish than I remember you being,” he snarled.

             Ratchet narrowed his eyes and fired back, “Not as much of a fool as you—and unlike you, I’m not a pile of—”  

           “SILENCE!!!!!!!”

             Megatron’s roared command silenced the medic instantly. Ratchet was not afraid, just startled.  Around him, all the vehicons nearby had flinched and taken steps back—even though they were as far away as they were. The Decepticon leader gave another growl, indignant and angered at his prisoner’s insolence.

             He released Ratchet, cursing under his breath.

             Now the Prime is coming. I can’t just leave.

             The huge figure of Megatron paced around, his grey metal looking oddly shinier in the greyish lighting the skies were providing. He was formulating a course of action.

             A plan.

             His eyes lit up and he straightened again, looking once more as if he was in control.

             Just at that moment, a terrible rumble that Ratchet felt all through his body sounded in the air.

             The storm had arrived, and the great roll of thunder was its announcer.

             Megatron looked around casually, then back at Ratchet. There was a dry amusement dancing in his optics.

             “Today shall be the day another one of you dies,” he spoke with a terrifying finality.

             The medic’s spark skipped a beat. He felt a cold fear run through his veins, and sit at the bottom of his stomach—like  a rock. Yet it was not fear for his own life.

             “How can you be so certain?” Ratchet fought to keep his tone level—steady.

             Blinding white flashed through the air, accompanied by a tearing, cracking sound that rang in everyone’s audio receptors. However Megatron stood, and had not flinched. His eyes held a dangerous light of unbending desire.

             “One of you will die by my hand,” Megatron repeated himself, turning away. “For it is as I will.”

              Then, the ex-gladiator stalked back across the clearing. Vehicons immediately scurried to form a circle around Ratchet, two of them coming even closer to guard him, guns drawn and ready to fire.

             Softly, gently, unrelentingly, drops of moisture began to fall from the sky.

             Rain.

             Ratchet closed his eyes, letting himself focus on the odd sensation of those thousands of drops of liquid created when they repeatedly hit his plating.

             With a heavy, exhausted sigh, Ratchet let his head fall into his hands.

             Optimus….my sweetspark…..forgive me…

             He jolted as a vehicon reached over and slapped his helm harshly.

             “Up.” He snapped, holding up stasis cuffs.

             Ratchet sincerely hoped, with all his spark, that he would be the one.

///

             “Ratchet? Please respond, Ratchet.” Optimus repeated himself once again, speeding down the empty road in alt-mode. He finally rolled to a halt, transforming and taking a look around.

             Dark clouds poured rain, the rising winds causing the little droplets to mercilessly pelt his plating from all sides.

             “Old Friend,” he tried his comm for what felt like the hundredth time. “Sweetspark, respond.”

             Urgency laced his tone, concern burning clearly in his gaze.

             Please, my love. Something happened, I am sure of it. But….what?

             Static sounded in his audio receptors until, with a sigh, the Autobot leader switched his link off again.

             I must find him on my own, then—

             He perked up suddenly, hearing a faint noise of….blaster fire?

             A cold, sick feeling twisted in his stomach. Dread weighed heavily on his chest.  

             Hang on, my Starlight….!  

             Without a second to spare, driving as if a fire chased his tailpipes, Optimus pushed his engines to the max. He sped closer, feeling that dread and despair sink further into him as he could more clearly make out the sounds of a fight.

              All he wanted was for Ratchet to be okay.

             All he wanted was for Ratchet to come home.

             Maybe he was selfish for not wanting to attempt to steal that relic, but Optimus knew that he couldn’t go on if anything happened to his teammates over some weapon. The war was not worth anyone’s life.

             If he could save yet just one more, he’d take that option first.

             You will come home alive. No matter the cost. I will not fail you, old friend.

             He pushed the brakes and skidded to a halt, catching sight of the commotion. There was a space between two towering canyons below his road. In that rocky clearing, Optimus saw an orange-white-plated mech darting from left to right, fending off as many of the oncoming vehicons as he could. Sure enough, Megatron was also there. At present, he simply stood by, watching.

             Enough was enough. Ratchet needed help.

             Optimus transformed and gripped the side of the mountain he’d been driving up, vaulting off the top and landing with a huge ‘THUMP!!’ on the road below.

             He cared not for the huge crater that now lay in the road.

             Optimus ran as fast as he could, drawing out both his guns and firing as soon as he was in range of the fight.

             “STEP AWAY FROM RATCHET!!!” Optimus commanded, nailing two vehicon soldiers with two shots as he continued to cross the distance of the clearing. Some of them scrambled back, many others turned their fire on the Prime, charging at him with a strange confidence.

             Optimus felt his blood boiling. The rain seemed to intensify as another bolt of lightning ripped through the sky with great ferocity. Almost like it had hit Optimus himself, he put away his guns and drew his swords, feeling electrified—powerful.

             I am not afraid of you, Megatron. Nor of your legions of breakable troops which you care nothing for.

             He saw the warlord, standing far across the clearing, arms folded.

             “FACE ME, MEGATRON!!!!”

             And with a powerful war cry, Optimus bolted forward, swords drawn. Vehicons poured in from all sides, shooting at him and trying to throw themselves in the Prime’s way.

             He didn’t notice pain from shots that ripped through his armor, the blows that landed on his chest—before he grabbed his attackers and dismantled them one by one.

             The Prime had but one target.

             Optimus wanted Megatron, and he wanted the end of this selfish, futile war.

///

             Megatron inspected the pod, wondering if he should open it now or wait until—

             “Step away from Ratchet!!!” He heard the enraged command from across the clearing. Before his eyes met the scene, Megatron already knew who it was. He grinned, baring his teeth with excitement.

             Ah, yes, Optimus. That’s right. Come closer. Let me finish you once and for all…

             With an unchecked level of anger, he yelled for Megatron to face him, tossing away the corpse of yet another dead vehicon as he spoke. The Decepticon warlord stood, unmoving, gazing with a taunting amusement in his eyes as he watched Optimus fight his way through the vehicons, tearing them apart as they would approach him.

             At last, no one dared to approach the Prime. The rest of the vehicons there had either fled or threw themselves behind rocks to hide. Optimus stood for a second, panting, energon spattered all over his body and swords. He looked around to find Ratchet passed out in a heap, far to Megatron’s right. No vehicons stood guard.

             Of course, with Megatron there, guards were not a necessity.

             You’re a fool, too, Optimus. You all are.

             Thunder rumbled, louder than before.

             “So, you’ve come to rescue your lapdog, have you?” Megatron asked, sneering through every word he said. Optimus seemed to vibrate with anger. He didn’t respond, eyes a sparking electric blue behind his battlemask.

             “You can take him, Optimus,” as the Prime twitched to move, Megatron held up his arm—the one with the fusion canon—and added, “For a price.”

             Optimus looked ready to rip his head off.

             He had clearly seen Ratchet’s wounds, and the new ones from a….punishment. Minutes after the medic had tried to escape, Optimus had arrived.

             It was almost like they were going to succeed!

             However, the large grey-purple mech had also made absolutely sure Ratchet would not escape, no matter what.

             Megatron thought he’d feed his ‘old friend’s’ anger.

             Or perhaps…his guilt.

             “While you were busy tearing vehicons to shreds, Ratchet was able to be successfully contained. We had to rough him up a little, as a result of his foolish actions…..but he’ll live…for now.”

             He gave a little chuckle as Optimus made a quiet exclamation.

             “You might have succeeded had you kept yourself focused on getting your friend out of here, Optimus!”

             “You will let him go.” He growled, taking a fighting stance.

             “Make me.”

             “Very well then,” The Prime drew his sword and started towards Megatron. “I shall.”

             Megatron dropped his canon. “Or…listen to my offer.”

             Optimus stopped, dropping his arms a bit.

             “Speak.” He let his gaze burn with a terrifying electricity. “Quickly.”

             Megatron was of course, not even slightly fazed. “My terms are simple,” he paused to make a gesture to the clearing in which they stood. “Fight me now, unarmed. If you win, I’ll let you and the medic here return to your base. No one will harm you as you leave.”

             It was a simple proposition.

             It was a simple goal.

             Ratchet would be safe.

             You could fail…Optimus, you could fail and get Ratchet killed…

             The rain poured from the skies ever harder, a storm unrelenting and harsh.

             Megatron took a few steps until he stood right in front of Optimus.

             The third stroke of lightning lit up the skies, flashing in the reflection of Optimus’s blue optics. Megatron grinned, tilting his head. He reached out his hand.

             “So?”

             Without a single hesitation, Optimus took it.

///

A cold, familiar ache in his shoulder.

Burning sensations of pain from fresh cuts and dents in his body.

Merciless rain battering his plating.

Ominous, loud whistles of wind sounding in his audio receptors.

             Ratchet’s optics snapped open when he heard the resounding clang of metal on metal.

             “IT IS FUTILE, PRIME—GIVE IT UP!!!”

             “NEVER!!”

             “MAYBE I SHOULD KILL BOTH OF YOU!!”

             There was another sound of impact, punctuated with a short cry of pain. The voice was Optimus’s.

             The medic sat up, looking around briefly to see that any remaining vehicons who hadn’t yet traveled back to the warship—hovering a short distance away—were cramming themselves behind rocks, flattening themselves to a corner. Others were presently trying to escape the scene.              

             Clearly, they wanted no part in any of this dispute.

             But I do.

             Ratchet hoisted himself up despite the way his wounds stung.

             I must.

             He watched Optimus and Megatron for a few moments. Neither one seemed to be using their weapons—it was simple combat.

             Except there was energon splattered around the grounds where they fought.

             Who said swords and guns were the only things that could kill?

             “Well, then,” Megatron laughed a chilling, malicious laugh. “Do you surrender yet, Optimus?” He bent down and thrust his face into Optimus’s, while the Prime struggled to get up. Optimus retracted his battlemask, gritting his teeth with anger and in an attempt to stifle pained grunts of effort.

             Energon stained the side of his face, dripping steadily from his mouth. He flinched back from the warlord and pushed himself to his feet, taking a fighting stance again.

             Ratchet stood, mesmerized.

             The sight that lay before him was nearly poetic, in a strange way.

             Not the “good” kind of strange.

             Rain poured from the heavens, the air was cold, and the winds raced noisily about. Smokey breath billowed from Optimus’s mouth as he panted, looking ragged and angry. His gaze fixated on Megatron.

             “This ends today, you lunatic—” he forced out, gripping one of his newer wounds gently. “Even…even if it kills me….”

             Megatron grinned. “Oh, it will,” he said slowly, deviously, not moving an inch as Optimus began to circle him. They eyed one another, anticipation hanging in the air as one silently dared the other to make the first move.

             I will be the victor today, Optimus, and then I shall win this war!

             Time seemed to slow, and suddenly Optimus couldn’t move—yet nothing held his limbs in place.

             Instead, his eyes were trained on Megatron as the warlord had suddenly turned.

             He chuckled lightly and aimed his fusion canon at Ratchet, who was standing frozen, watching them.

             The medic seemed to snap out of his trance and flinched, taking a step back defensively. Optimus felt a new rage form in him. Something unseen tore another war cry from the Prime and he charged at an almost desperate-looking pace.

             “LEAVE HIM ALONE!!”

             He threw himself at Megatron, knocking the huge mech to the ground. Megatron gave a short cry of surprise, then immediately locked his jaw, biting down on his tongue. Optimus’s eyes burned with such a ferocity that the ex-gladiator had not seen—not for a long time.

             Not since he last fought a wild beast in the arena of Kaon.

             Never from the soft eyes of Optimus.

             “YOU….KILLED THEM,” Optimus snarled, pinning Megatron to the dirt. Rain pelted down, bouncing limply off Optimus’s frame. He glowered over Megatron, seething at him. “YOU DID ALL THIS, YOU MONSTER!!!”

             Megatron looked surprised only for a moment, then narrowed his eyes belligerently.

             He could only grin. A sick, twisted grin that said, ‘I don’t care.’

             Limbs burning with exhaustion, Optimus began to pummel Megatron. He swung side to side, pounding his opponent with all he had. Wordless cries of anger poured from him as he punched…harder, harder….

               “Optimus!”

               His servos began to tear and feel numb. Streaks of faded blue and purple stained his plating.  

               “OPTIMUS!!!”

               Distantly, a voice registered in his ears. What was it trying to say?

               “OPTIMUS, WAIT!!”

               All the Prime could see was a blaring, bright red. Steady clanging of metal on metal against the static rain sounded loudly in his optics.

               “ORION, PLEASE!!! LISTEN TO ME—”

                           Optimus felt as if an electric shock had been passed through him. Hearing his name, he froze, panting, trembling, blood roaring in his head. Beneath him, he could feel Megatron tremoring. Yet the silver-purple mech still bore that scrap-eating grin.

             He knew something.

             Something he won’t tell me, the Autobot leader thought, feeling some of his frustration return. He glanced up again at Ratchet, who was still backing away. The air around them began to vibrate, waves of hot air joining with and drowning out the blustering, icy, rainy wind.

             Something was definitely wrong.

             Optimus narrowed his optics and raised a readied fist above Megatron’s face.

              “What are you not telling me, Megatron?” Optimus gripped his rival by the neck. Nothing but a feeble-sounding laugh met his words. The red optics staring back at him squinted with fatigue and fell shut.

             Optimus knew Megatron was still awake.

             “I’m more than finished with all your little mind games, this war, your treacheries,” he spat. “What else are you trying to take from us all now?!” His voice rose with every word as Optimus began to work himself up again. Centuries of anger and sadness began to pile on his spark.

             Waves of warm, stifling air drew closer. A reverberating hum sounded in Optimus’ skull. Something like….a ship.

             All the same, sound faded out around him as he zeroed in on Megatron.

             Finally, he was at his fingertips—his mercy. Finally, Optimus thought, he could bring a final peace to—

             “You lose,” Megatron sneered, a new fire lighting his optics. Beneath him, the Decepticon leader tensed and felt as if he was about to make a move. Optimus gritted his teeth and held steady, tightening his grip on Megatron’s throat.

             “OPTIMUS, YOU NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE!!”  

             Ratchet sounded on the verge of tears, practically shrieking at his partner.

             He realized in an instant what exactly Megatron had meant before.

///

             Every wound made itself known, throbbing with pain. Megatron could barely move.

             Yet victory buzzed through every cell in his body, giving him just enough strength to carry out the last step to complete his grand plan to end it all.

             Farewell, Orion. Ironic that it was your uncontrolled emotions that led to your downfall.

             Optimus, fist raised, opened his mouth to ask again. Megatron suddenly let loose a surge of strength, pushing up and thrusting his legs under his opponent’s torso and kicking outwards. Optimus’s blue optics widened with shock and he uttered a short cry as he was thrown a few feet across the clearing.

             He landed and instantly got to his feet again, activating his battlemask.

             The Prime stared for a moment at the odd scene before him.

             Megatron stood—albeit shakily—and began to back away, pulling Ratchet with him. No vehicon stragglers were in sight, and even more odd…the rain had begun to let up just a little.

             Soft rays of sunlight began to show through the clouds. His mind drifting, Optimus turned slowly to gaze up at the clouds. He was met with the huge mass of metal and a blast of air and sound.

             It was the Nemesis. A huge canon under the ship readjusted itself with an audible whirring noise.  

             “NOW, SOUNDWAVE!!”

             “OPTIMUS, RUN!!!!!!”

               Ratchet….I’m sorry I failed you….

             In the time of a split second, the world around Optimus lit up in a brilliant, blaring flash, and a deafening explosion filled the air.

             Never before had murder seemed so ethereal.

///

             “Ratchet?”

             No response.

             “Ratchet..?”

             Nothing.

             “RATCHET!!” Miko tried, her loud voice jolting the medic out of whatever trance he’d been in moments before. He turned slowly from staring at his screen, a dead-looking gaze meeting the children’s.

             “Do you…need something, Miko? Rafael?”

             “Oh—well, it’s uhm….it’s nothing….I’ll let you get back to work…” Raf mumbled, suddenly sounding nervous as he fumbled to hide the object he’d been holding. Miko rolled her eyes.              

             “After all the work I did to get his attention!” She followed her friend back to the lounge area. Ratchet watched them, not really processing what they were doing. He then turned back to his task.

             What was I doing again?

             “Hey, Ratchet,” Bulkhead greeted, coming from the hallway. “How’s your, uh…data surfing going?”

             Right.

             “Very well. I am nearly finished with three of the four sectors I was to organize today,” Ratchet heard his voice respond.

             He looked up to see Bulkhead staring at him, eyes rounded with concern and worry. However the moment he raised his head to see him, he switched his expression to a normal, casual one.

             It was fine if he did that, Ratchet thought to himself. Everyone had been doing it for the last two months now, anyway.

             “Well…that sounds good! A-anyway, I’m gonna…go for a drive…” he responded, sounding awkward. Ratchet nodded an acknowledgement and turned back around. Feeling guilty, Bulkhead looked as if he wanted to say more.

             But he knew better than to bring up what it was they were both still thinking about.

             He turned and transformed, then left. Meanwhile, Ratchet tapped at the screen, barely thinking about what he was actually doing.

             Some small part of him wished for a warm touch on his shoulder as he was finishing up.

             A warm, baritone voice to calmly whisper, “Good work today, my love. Come, rest with me in my quarters.”

             It’s not your fault…it’s not your fault….there was nothing you could do!

             His mind repeated what the others had gently murmured over and over on that day and every day after.

             But it was…

             He heard the small voice protest. He clenched his fist and locked his jaw.

               It’s not your fault, Ratchet. You didn’t kill him!

                           The medic felt a lump in his throat. With all his might, he swallowed it, controlling himself.

             But I did…I killed him.

             “Ratchet?”

             Jack. It was Jack’s voice.

             Ratchet felt his arm quivering, his gaze and body frozen in one place, as if someone had hit the pause button on him.

             “Yes?” Everything felt distant now. He felt his arm drop and his head turn to stare at the small human teenager.

             “So…how’s it going?”

             “Fine.”

             “Oh…well, it’s raining cats and dogs out there!” He joked, pointing at his shirt. “I got a little of it..”

             “You did?”

             “Yep. Might wanna tell Bulkhead to be careful on the roads, right?”

             “Right.”

             “Right…so, I guess I’ll leave you alone, then…” Jack backed away, saying something to Miko and Raf as he neared the couch and TV. 

             All of a sudden, Ratchet was aware of how cold his shoulder felt.

///

HNNNN THIS PIECE OF GARBAGE O///O’’ THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AT AA >///< Sorry, I know I’m not good at angst. But I wanted to write this anyway.....

If you like, listening to this for the last 2-3 parts of the story might....set the mood  better..? Idk. For me, I heard that recording and instantly felt my heart twist. And had this idea. So.....^^’’ (yes, I know about this piece btw I just like the slowed version because,,,aesthetic,,,,jsjdsjsd) 

Thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely eveing/day/whatever time it is where you are!! <3 

Feedback, likes, reblogs, and all that stuff is always welcome!! ^///^ 

// Kuni out :’3 //

[anazentfcrew]

Anazen TF Crew Comic Master List

In chronological order:

The One that Started it All

“With great power comes great responsibility”

Follow the leader

Animal lover

Dashing, daring, dumb

Steve the stalker con

Sunday stroll

Love ambush

The love doctor

Seekers switched Part 1

Seekers switched Part 2

Roses are red…

…Starscream was blue

Hotshot’s day out

Bribery

Doppelgänger

Double trouble

Soundwave’s solution

Sweet revenge

The new guy

Season 3 reactions

The story of how we met KOxMR

The story of how we met SWxG

The story of how we met TCxSS

The new guy … actually, guys

The new girl

1900 Iacon Lane Episode I

1900 Iacon Lane Episode II

1900 Iacon Lane Episode III

1900 Iacon Lane Episode IV

1900 Iacon Lane Episode V

TFP Movie reaction

Getting my Prowl on

It’s a Bird! It’s a Plane! It's… a Femme?

The Seeker Wars Episode I

The Seeker Wars Episode II

The Seeker Wars Episode III

Call me maybe… not

From Red to Green

A little Christmas romance

…At first sight

Operation parent trap

Simple solution

Bromance… sort of

Which suitor suits

Obligatory Valentine’s Day

Expert Help

Say ‘I Love You'

The beginning…

… of the end

Sheriff Woody Complex

Hot in here

Hot Rod Triad

To split

New recruit part 1

New recruit part 2

Not Sure…

Land of the rising sun

I Promise to Love it and Take Care of it…

Nurse Firestar

Earth vs Sky

Meme Remix Team 1 Part 1

Meme Remix Team 1 Part 2

Meme Remix Team 2 Part 1

Meme Remix Team 2 Part 2

Couple’s Retreat

Hotrod Movie Night

Anti Replacement Plan Part 1

Anti Replacement Plan Part 2

Orion Switch ON

Smack your mech day 2014

Starscream goes to school

TF Crew Christmas 2014

Mistletoe Incident # 2

Attention Anazen

Crazy Coincidence

New kind of new recruits

Acquiring Target

Try, Trying, Tried

Evening the Odds

Special Ops Op

How to Win Fights

Bang-Bang!

Mistletoe Incident Number 3

The first of my “Ask My Characters” comics

Ask My Characters #4

Ask My Characters #5

Ask My Characters #6

Ratchet’s Daily Pains

Joining the Club

Love Retaliation

Easter Egged

Opposing Teams

Meet the New…Leaders?

TF RID S2EP10 Reactions

Things Turning

All Over Again

What it is to Love

Pokemon Seekers

Confidence Boost Deflated

New World Order

Lady Butterfly

Bachelorette and Bachelors

How Many Does this Make?

Smack Your Mech Day 2016

Tractor Supply Run

Droid vs Transformer

Pet Project

Post Easter 2017

Helping not Helping

First Spring Break Adventure

Second Spring Break Adventure

Easter Candy 2018

Out of Hand

We All Scream

Funny Valentine

Bumblebee Movie Reactions

Easter News!

New State! New Apartment! New…Who?

Seeker Squads X 3

[jsaunderswrites]

This month's (12/2022) haul (minus the last week that my LCS is closed for) is in!

The Brave and the Bold #28 Facsimile Edition

Gargoyles #1

The Legend of Korra: Patterns in Time

My Little Pony #7

My Little Pony: Classics Reimagined — Little Fillies #2

My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic #1 10th Anniversary Edition

Transformers: Bumblebee — Win if You Dare

Got some catching up to do before reading Gargoyles or My Little Pony. Glad to find a copy of Win if You Dare but the prequel Go for the Gold is stuck overseas atm because of the Royal Mail strike.

Shout out to Secret Headquarters Comic Emporium in Beaconsfield!

[signaturedish]

A question for ur TF fic. What if when Harry gets turned he's like, younger? When it happens I mean (He is 10 right?) Like, five or something maybe? What would change? How would the bots and cons react? How would Harry react?

Hey you! Sorry that took a hot minute. 

Yeah, Harry’s ten in the fic. 

The way I intended it was that he was clearly ten in his internal monologue right up until he was turned into a robobaby. Then the trauma on top of a completely different set of instincts had him thinking and behaving a good 5-3 years younger than his current age with a gradual upward incline as he got more comfortable and familiar with himself in later chapters. Right now in the narrative, he’s almost back to normal, we’re just waiting on a returning desire for independence which won’t happen until he’s secure in his relationship with Megs.

So to make him five, I think that drop in maturity would come off much more dramatically. He was a pretty independent human ten-year-old, resigned to his treatment as a servant, and capable on his own. A five-year-old Harry would be far newer to his servant status and much more unsure of himself from the getgo- Five-year-olds aren’t built for the kind of independence the Durselys expect from him, we’re right in the middle of those growing pains. 

Then we turn him into a robobaby. 

(I like the age I chose for Harry but sad baby Harry was so cute I made this a little long for more details, excuse my indulgence)

Appearance-wise he wouldn’t change much. He’s already too small and at the youngest growth stage, his internal programming would probably be more toddler-esque with a stronger inclination to cry for attention, a greater need for positive attention, and more automatic behaviors geared toward inciting those things. 

Oh and he keeps his lisp.

The first few days would be a nightmare, like constant crying, deeply distressed at all times, desperately reaching out to the scientists on blind instinct and getting reprimanded for it at every turn. A whole mess, a whole inconsolable mess, the scientists think there’s something fundamentally wrong with him, he’s incoherent past the point of even perceived aggression. 

Then Megatron makes his move. He’s been hearing what sounds like a newspark being tortured for hours and hours and now that he can see that it probably isn’t a sleep paralysis-level nightmare driving him to madness he needs to Handle This ASAP.

First problem- Harry isn’t responding to cool, logical instructions to communicate through comm. He’s way past regular conversation. 

This is eventually resolved when Megatron very clumsily takes the right stabs at comforting him. It takes hours, some sullen silences, panicking, maybe a soft reboot or two, but he does get there. Crooning lullabies, softer sentences, praise when Harry stops crying, Megatron is flying so blind it isn’t even funny but he’s not dumb, he can see it’s working.

The transformers view PA!Harry as a very gifted and mature toddler. This itty bitty little baby can fit so much serious thought and a burgeoning emotional intelligence in it so they try their best to accommodate and not come off terribly condescending. Success varies. 

Younger!Harry acts much truer to his appearance. So in general, how the TF crew thinks of Harry changes very little, but how they respond to him does.

Megatron is as soft as he can possibly be to the point of genuine pain. Harry is so much more emotionally dependant and lost that it’s less easy to drift back into overlord mode around him. You’ll note that Megatron doesn’t have another mode to switch to, just a rusty parental unit protocol set he’s never activated before. Soundwave gets called down immediately, surveillance be damned, he needs someone with caretaking knowledge and he needs them now. 

Bumblebee doesn’t really perceive the difference, he couldn’t clock Harry’s age in any au, he was kinda sure the bot was glitched initially. His genuine confusion when Harry kicks and screams and sobs like a very young child who’s thinnest thread of guidance was just ripped away from him by a lying yellow monster easily comes across as cruelty. The mistrust and fear/hatred Harry develops for him does not mellow for far longer than his stay with the Autobots.

On the bright side his meltdown makes the Autobots come to terms with their find much more quickly. They could hear the distress calls a mile from the dam and had a lot of the freakout there instead. 

Ironhide rips him out of Bumblebee’s cab while Jazz is split between hovering worriedly and tearing the scout to pieces for allowing him to get so worked up. Similar rough aesthetic and coloring to Megatron and an English accent help a great deal in calming Harry down and the rocking and lullabies do the rest. 

Every Autobot has his targeting systems on and a whole lot of automatic aggression coursing through them with the terror and pain of a sparkling still fresh in the air. After Bumblebee is brought to miserable apologies and Bonecrusher is ripped limb from limb they’re still pumped and ready to Throw Down with Megatron. But he just makes that deal to keep Harry safe and assures Harry that he’ll be okay with Optimus and Megs’ll be back soon. 

Harry is still distraught Megatron left him with strangers. But he’s there long enough to form those Autobot attachments, primarily with Ironhide, Ratchet and Jazz.

Ironhide doesn’t put him down much at all, even when Harry tries to hide it, he gets anxious all alone on the cot and much prefers the nook between pauldron and helm to cuddle in and listen to growly war stories and life lessons. He sleeps up there whenever possible too. Ironhide can tell all this and happily allows it, staying stock-still for hours and gently rousing him whenever Harry begins to have a nightmare about the dam.

Ironhide’s perception hasn’t logically changed much, but the way Harry behaves ticks every box to drive him into an overprotective rampage, to the point that humans aren’t allowed within thirty feet of him and even the tiniest whimper has him hovering like three thousand pounds of promised death over his charge. 

They bond the closest, to the point that Ironhide could plausibly replace Megatron as Harry’s imprinted guardian (but he doesn’t).

Jazz and Ratchet share tertiary ‘older brother’ type roles in Harry’s life. Jazz reads to him, plays games with him, and holds him when Ironhide can’t be there. His playful casualness helps keep Harry calm and gets him to open up, but its not something he responds to as successfully. Camaraderie is appreciated but not something an insecure five-year-old always understands.

Jazz gains the most points correcting Optimus’ treatment of him and handling any humans who get into the hanger before Ironhide does something drastic. Thinks that play up his aptitude as a parental figure and devotion to keeping him healthy and safe. 

Ratchet...he really needs Harry’s observational skills and willingness to shoulder some emotional weight in the relationship, unfair or not. Without the ability to deliver the reassurance Ratchet needs, in addition to possessing a much more fragile disposition himself, it can be difficult for Ratchet to interact with Harry. He keeps to himself when Harry doesn’t ask for him or need treatment and they read rejection in each other’s hesitance too often for Harry to pursue the affection fit to burst in Ratchet.

Ratchet would 100% die for him and is right up there with Ironhide as his most aggressive defender, but he isn’t a great source of comfort for Younger!Harry. He wins his points through being the best cuddler, hands down, and praising him most often. Soft moments when neither of them are shy or afraid are where they’re closest.

Optimus is weirdly like Bumblebee here. He has Harry clocked as infant but god knows that that’s supposed to mean. He doesn’t have a mode outside of Prime to switch to for Harry and the stumbling we see in PA is him doing his very best. He’s not dumb, he recognizes that Harry isn’t emotionally mature enough to be spoken to the way he might mistakenly speak to him in PA, but he doesn’t have any other words. There’s a lot of frustrated staring and helpless silences here. 

Jazz tries his best to gently encourage some softer interactions and Ironhide is raring to punish his Prime if he dares misstep with his sparkling charge, tensions stay a little high.

With Soundwave planning Harry’s extraction, it goes off almost without a hitch, no sparklings were bitten in the attempt at least. Thundercracker might actually die depending on the plan. He has the most experience out of the Decepticons with immature and young bots via his own casseticons and a paternal disposition under all his cool logic. So he’s bustling around like an expectant mother, training up all the other Cons in grueling exercises and curriculum to get them up to his standards of child rearing aptitude and childproofing the base.

Megatron really does appreciate some tangible, reliable instructions. He’d appreciate it even more if he wasn’t a little bit threatened by how confident and capable Soundwave is when interacting with Harry. Soundwave quickly becomes the second favorite- almost on par with Ironhide.

Barricade is terrified of Harry in that way twenty-somethings are terrified when married friends give them babies and then leave to do something. This is way too important and delicate for him and someone pleaserescuehimitsgettingcloserohmygod-

Thundercracker is much more cautious handling Harry. We haven’t gotten there yet in PA, but he’s kind of the fun uncle who definitely goads Harry into things partially to get under Meg’s skin. Not so when Harry is more openly vulnerable and clumsy, now we’ve got a little baby chick who needs to stay in his nest and be warm and safe. Gliding will happen much, much later. If ever.

Harry was affected by how the scientists treated him to the point of being intensely shy around friendly, good humans and flatly terrified of anyone else. Megatron hunted down every remaining SS agent with Soundwave’s help to finish the job for that.

Eventually, Harry would feel more secure and comfortable and would start wanting to be on the ground and playing with less parental bots instead of carried everywhere by his guardians, but that recovery is achieved at the Decepticon base after some weeks have passed.

Okay and I think that’s it! Thanks for asking!! I had probably too much fun...

[fly-pow-bye]

What’s Airing On Cartoon Network? (May 2020)

Yeah, sorry I forgot about all of this. All of the new episodes this month after the break.

Bakugan Battle Planet

May 3rd:

Haunted House/Two of a Kind - Haunted House: Rumor has it that there's a haunted building in Los Volmos, and the Awesome Brawlers are on the case! Who doesn't like a good ghost hunt, plus capturing a ghost on camera should make Awesome Brawlers' next video a huge success!/Two of a Kind: Veronica Venegas is doing a special report on the Awesome brawlers own: Lightening! The special report takes a back seat when Lightening is challenged to a brawl. Lightening uses this brawl the perfect opportunity to rollout his new Bakugan partner: Tretorous. (6:30 AM)

May 17th:

Magnus P.I., Parts 1 & 2 - There's a been a string of thefts and each one has involved a Bakugan. The AAAnimus security force have decided the only brawler who could be responsible is: Magnus. The shock of this accusation sets Magnus off to takes justice in his own hands and go after the thief himself./Magnus foils the latest burglary attempt by the phantom thief, and in doing so, discovers the brawler partners with a golden Bakugan. Magnus is now more interested in a brawl, than stopping any crime. (6:30 AM)

May 24th:

Awesome Brawlers Training Camp, Parts 1 & 2 - The Awesome Brawlers head to a training facility owned by Kasami International to prepare for the Bakugan Battle League - Los Volmos. But once the gang figures out they will all be competing against each other for the same title, the "team building" retreat doesn't quite go as planned./Agit turns up at the Kasami training facility and fits right in with the Awesome brawlers. This is a lifestyle that he can get used to, but it becomes apparent Agit is torn between a life as a phantom thief and life as a brawler. (6:30 AM)

May 31st:

The Bakugan Battle League Begins/Riot vs. Ajit - The Bakugan Battle League Begins: The qualifying rounds for the Bakugan Battle league are taking place all around Los Volmos. The Awesome Brawlers all make it through into the tournament without a hitch, that is all but Dan. Dan faces an old rival in Trey, who's back with a few tricks up his sleeve./Riot vs. Ajit: The Bakugan battle league is finally here and 16 brawlers have qualified to enter including all the Awesome Brawlers. The first round will feature a brawl between China Riot and the golden Bakugan brawler, Agit! (6:30 AM)

Craig of the Creek

May 2nd:

The Cardboard Identity - Craig and his friends stumble upon a mysterious bunker made of cardboard beneath the Creek. (9:00 AM)

Ancients of the Creek - Craig, Kelsey and JP discover an ancient fort that belonged to the first kids in the Creek. (9:15 AM)

May 9th:

Mortimor to the Rescue - When Craig, Kelsey and JP get stranded in murky water, it's up to Mortimor to save the day! (9:00 AM)

Secret in a Bottle - Craig needs to get a secret off his chest, so he pays a visit to the Keeper of Secrets in the Creek. (9:15 AM)

May 16th:

Trading Day - After Craig accidentally destroys a shipment of rare Chocorolls at the Trading Tree, Kit makes him work off his debt by running her trades throughout the Creek! (9:00 AM)

Crisis at Elder Rock - Tragedy strikes the Creek when the Elders get trapped under Elder Rock, and it's up to Craig, Kelsey and JP to rescue them. (9:15 AM)

May 23rd:

Kelsey the Worthy - When Kelsey demolishes a wall at Craig's house, her father takes away her sword. So she enlists Craig and JP to help prove to her father that she's still worthy. (9:00 AM)

The End Was Here - Craig tries to figure out how an ancient war that decimated the Creek began in hopes of stopping history from repeating itself. (9:15 AM)

DC Super Hero Girls

May 3rd:

#CrashCourse - When a high-speed chase breaks out during her driver's test, Diana Prince's desire to fight evil clashes with her desire to undergo a World of Man teenage rite of passage, getting her license. (4:00 PM)

Power Players

May 3rd:

Winner Takes All - After months of training for Luchador Day, Axel needs Masko to coach him against a pair of uninvited competitors - Madcap and Dynamo! (7:30 AM)

Prepare for the Worst - Axel and Bobbie Blobby skip out on Sarge's disaster-prep drills, leaving enough of a gap in the team's defenses for a crow to swoop in and snatch Sarge! Feeling responsible, Axel leads the team on a search-and-rescue mission. (7:45 AM)

May 17th:

Stuck on You - Tired of Axel and the team taking him for granted, Masko tries to get kidnapped and ends up stuck to Dynamo, who's less than enthused with his rubbery new sidekick. (7:30 AM)

Opposites Attract - Claiming he's good at heart, Dynamo convinces Axel and the team to help him find a battery that can power his centrifuge and free him from Madtrap's control - but Bobbie Blobby isn't buying the baddie's story. (7:45 AM)

May 24th:

The Thing in the Wall - When Axel and the team accuse Galileo of stealing their possessions, the lizard must hunt down the true culprit - a mysterious creature behind the wall - to prove his innocence. (7:30 AM)

Madtrap - Madcap and Princess SugarSalt trap Axel and the team inside a Minergy-powered labyrinth that attacks them with their greatest fears, forcing them to work together and escape as a unit. (7:45 AM)

May 31st:

To Tame the Perilous Skies! - With Axel's drone-wing broken, the team must find another way to stop Madcap and his minions as they take to the skies in toy airplanes for an aerial assault on the city park. (7:30 AM)

Four Color Fallout - Axel, Galileo, and Sarge get Minergy-transported by Madcap into the pages of Axel's favorite comic book, the hero of which turns out not to be so cool after all. (7:45 AM)

Teen Titans Go!

May 25th:

Justice League's Next Top Talent Idol Star: Justice League Edition - The Justice League holds yet another talent competition, only this time they're facing off against the Titans. In order to be the most talented superhero team in the DC universe, Robin and Beast Boy must work together on a jazz performance. (6:00 PM)

ThunderCats Roar

Sorry, no descriptions for the last two episodes yet. In fact, the only reason why there’s descriptions at all is because most of these were See It Firsts, as is tradition for ThunderCats Roar.

May 2nd:

Summer Fun Day - The Thundercats are exhausted from fighting bad guys all the time so Lion-O suggests they spend a relaxing summer fun day at the beach, with no fighting! Unfortunately the beach is home to the Crabmen, giant, clawed humanoids that fight anyone who steps on their sand! Looks like summer fun day might involve some fighting! (10:30 AM)

Safari Joe - While minding her own business, Cheetara is caught in a trap set by Safari Joe, the famously annoying hunter! After escaping, she rallies the other ThunderCats to help her stop Joe once and for all, by turning the tables and capturing him! (10:45 AM)

May 9th:

Ratar-O - The ThunderCats have gotten so good at defeating the Mutants of Plun-Darr that it's basically become routine. That all changes with the arrival of the Mutants' old leader: Ratar-O, wielder of the Sword of Plun-Darr! Uh-oh! (10:30 AM)

Prince Starling's Quest - Lion-O is happily playing with Snarf in their "Frolicking Field" and doesn't have a care in the world, unfortunately he's accidentally stomping all over the miniature village of the Micrits! The tiny people want to defeat the "giant orange monster" but such a quest would require a brave hero. Luckily, the Micrits have such a hero: Prince Starling! Now, let us the tell you the epic tale of Prince Starling as he journeys to find the fountain of growth and defeat the wicked Lion-O, who has no idea any of this is going on! (10:45 AM)

May 16th:

Lion-S - Lion-O and the other ThunderCats are thrilled to meet a brand new Thunderian: Lion-S! She's cool, good at fighting robots and, most importantly, thinks Lion-O and his Sword of Omens are really neat and interesting! Looks like the ThunderCats have a new best friend! Maybe even, a new ThunderCat????? (10:30 AM)

Snarf's Day Off (10:45 AM)

May 23rd:

Mumm-Ra of Plun-darr (10:30 AM, half hour special!)

Total Dramarama

Ditto for this show.

May 2nd:

Beth and the Beanstalk - After having a chocolate bar confiscated by Chef, Beth finds herself in a parallel giant world and aims to get back her now giant chocolate bar. (10:00 AM)

Pinata Regatta - Izzy can't bring herself to smash a Pinata during the class' Cinco De Mayo celebrations. But when that unsmashed Pinata comes to life and spawns an evil Pinata Army, it's batter up. (10:15 AM)

May 9th:

A Dame-gerous Game - After Leshawna, Bridgette, Owen and Cody win a Hide & Seek competition, they're trapped on a private island by a jealous former champion and forced to play for their freedom. (10:00 AM)

Royal Flush - When the other kids fear Harold has accidentally flushed himself down Chef's fancy new toilet, they travel into the sewer on a rescue mission. But will they find Harold before the mythical Alligator King traps them underground forever? (10:15 AM)

May 16th:

Total Eclipse of the Fart (10:00 AM)

May 23rd:

Dissing Cousins (10:00 AM, half hour special!)

Transformers Cyberverse

...and ditto here, too!

May 3rd:

Enemy Line - While Optimus struggles to be a leader in peace-time, Bumblebee undertakes a daring mission into Decepticon territory. (7:00 AM)

May 17th:

Thunderhowl - Bumblebee and Chromia travel to Crystal City to recover one of Windblade's psychic shards and encounter a long-lost bot. (7:00 AM)

Wild Wild Wheel - A dangerous lone gunslinger named WildWheel returns to Cybertron looking for Optimus Prime. (7:15 AM)

May 24th:

Alien Hunt! With Meteorfire and Cosmos - Bumblebee enlists washed-up TV show host Meteorfire to help him find another of Windblade's psychic shards on Luna-3. (7:00 AM)

Journey to the Valley of Repugnus - Bumblebee and Grimlock are separated as they search the depths of Cybertron for another of Windblade's psychic shards, encountering the Monsterbots and the Energon Masters. (7:15 AM)

May 31st:

Rack N' Ruin N' Ratchet (7:00 AM)

Dweller in the Depths (7:15 AM)

Victor and Valentino

May 2nd:

My Fair Achi - V&V enter Achi in a dog show competition to win a golden trophy, but their overbearing ways drive Achi to the edge. (9:30 AM)

Oddities - When a mysterious carnival barker fuses V&V together, they must find a way to come unstuck. (9:45 AM)

May 9th:

I.....am Vampier - When Vic enters the Monte Macabre film festival, he gets insecure about his artistic vision and decides to copy the work of others, but ultimately learns that staying true to yourself is what's most important. (9:30 AM)

Victor the Predictor - When Victor becomes convinced he has a special talent as a psychic, he decides to use his new mental abilities to counsel those around him - until one piece of advice goes too far. (9:45 AM)

May 16th:

Kindred Spirits - When Val becomes friends with the ghost of a silent film star, their friendship turns out to have dire consequences. (9:30 AM)

Decoding Valentino - When Val goes on an adventure with Isabella to decode an ancient language, he has to come to terms with the fact that Isabella is smarter in order to save himself. (9:45 AM)

May 23rd:

Journey to Maíz Mountain - When Victor and Valentino destroy Monte Macabre's corn supply, they journey to Maíz Mountain with Sal to replace it. But in order to get the corn, they must shrink down to the size of ants and embark on a mythical adventure that they'll never forget! (9:30 AM, half hour special!)

[officerofcybertron]

Headcanons 1: Matrix

Is Ultra Magnus worthy to carry the Matrix of Leadership?

The short answer to this question is: Yes, but he doesn’t want it or need it, and it’s complicated.

The origins to this question naturally date back to the original G1 movie; when Ultra Magnus was introduced, chosen by Optimus Prime to become the new Autobot leader, and then… didn’t. It was never really covered as to why that was. Instead Hot Rod was the token ‘chosen one’ character, and the explanation was left at that. The Matrix didn’t choose Ultra Magnus.

Ultra Magnus explains to Optimus when he’s given the Matrix he’s ‘just a soldier’, but is this really the only reason there is? He’s just not ‘leadership material’?

We can all agree that G1 is a national treasure and that the plot points do not make that much sense in many regards. Rodimus Prime showed up in the movie, awe-inspiring, powerful, and confident, but then in the following cartoon show it became a running joke that he would learn a ‘valuable lesson’ in leadership, either from Ultra Magnus himself, or from other members of the team when they corrected him on his actions, and then be right back to behaving like a child in the next episode while Ultra Magnus essentially led the Autobots in all but name.

So; what does this have to do with Transformers Prime? The character of Ultra Magnus is fairly changed. G1 Ultra Magnus was a lot more relaxed, not quite so rule-obsessed, and had an understanding of what it meant to be a family. He was also known to laugh, and act as a guardian figure for Daniel.

Conversely Ultra Magnus in Prime is the very definition of ‘strict’. I like to think that if you were to look the word up in a Cybertronian dictionary, Ultra Magnus’ picture would probably be listed under the word as an example. He’s a stranger to the family environment, and it is likely that jokes roll right off his armor plating.

The answer is rather obvious, although a bit too simple: they’re both soldiers who’ve never been comfortable playing the ‘leading role’. Not because they aren’t good at it, but because it’s not something they’ve ever wanted. Instead, working as Second in Command, while still giving them the ability to direct their troops, and help their soldiers, still gives them the ability to defer to another authority.

But more importantly: Ultra Magnus does not want the Matrix.

I think the Matrix knows this, and therefore does not choose Ultra Magnus.

Not because Ultra Magnus is not worthy. He’s definitely worthy. Rather the Matrix, being what it is, I think can see into the spark of a Cybertronian presented to it and it can see this quietly hidden truth. A truth that, maybe, Ultra Magnus never spoke of to Optimus Prime. That he’s uncomfortable with being set up to be the next Prime. That he doesn’t want to be a Prime.

Obviously, this is in the case of the G1 cartoon, but I think this same aspect could be applied if ever Ultra Magnus from Transformers Prime were to be offered the Matrix.

On top of this, let’s be frank: Ultra Magnus doesn’t need the Matrix.

I know in Prime he was shown to have issues with leading Team Prime, but I also take a lot of my Ultra Magnus from the prequel novels, and in the prequel novels he was a bad-ass leader. Confident in his soldiers, and described as ‘daring, strategically ingenious, and courageous to the point of recklessness’ by Alpha Trion.

It’s honestly a huge curiosity of mine what would have happened had Ultra Magnus and Starscream gone head to head in a real battle. The two of them were never pitted against one another, but I have a feeling a fight between the two of them very easily could have decided the fate of the war.

Why? Because when Optimus and Megatron fight one another, almost nothing else exists around them. So, on a quick tangent imagine that happening. Optimus, with Ultra Magnus, and Megatron with Starscream, go into a full-on head-to-head battle. Optimus and Megatron almost immediately size one another up, because there’s no one else who’s going to take on their opposite number. That leaves Ultra Magnus and Starscream to direct the rest of the battle.

Imagine, just for a moment, how ridiculously amazing that would be story-wise. I honestly couldn’t tell you who would win. Starscream and his Seekers would have air superiority, but Ultra Magnus and his wreckers are bat-shit crazy and not afraid to fight dirtier than any other Autobot as long as it gets the job done.

Back onto the topic at hand: Ultra Magnus’ Wreckers followed him into the battle of Fort Scyk and then when Optimus and the rest of the Autobot forces intended to flee Cybertron on board the Ark they remained with Ultra Magnus to hold back Trypticon and to try to keep an Autobot presence on Cybertron.

They fought with him against unbelievable odds. Against Shockwave and his abominations. Facing death every time they went out and knowing that the next mission would always be a suicide mission.

You don’t do all that and not have faith, feel loyalty, for the person leading you.

Ultra Magnus doesn’t need the Matrix to be a great leader. He old enough that he has the experience; has the compassion needed. He’s capable..

Would he have accepted the Matrix if Optimus had died and passed it onto him? Yes, but I don’t think he would accept it as the next Prime. He would accept it for safe keeping. Knowing that the next Prime wouldn’t be him. He would accept it because it was expected of him and it was his responsibility.

Which is why I actually enjoyed the ending of Predacon’s Rising where Opitmus took the Matrix out of the equation.

If Transformers Prime had gotten a proper sequel, and not the disaster that 2015 RID offered us, it would have been amazing to see how Team Prime evolved in the absence of a sacred relic which bestows the right to lead. By removing the Matrix as the be-all-end-all, it would have allowed someone – like Ultra Magnus – to step up into that leadership position and help Cybertron flourish.

And I truly do believe it would have been Ultra Magnus who stepped up. Not because I feel Bumblebee or Smokescreen are incapable of being leaders. They both have leadership qualities. As does Arcee, and even Bulkhead. Rather I feel it would be because of Ultra Magnus’ already extensive experience, and service record, that would catapult him up to the most likely leader going forward.

I realize that people may disagree with me, and that’s totally fair. Until I started really looking into Ultra Magnus myself, about the same time I started this blog, I didn’t have a very high opinion of him, but the more I read, the more I thought, I realized that there was so much untapped potential here.

Ultra Magnus is a mech, an Autobot, who should be proud of what he’s accomplished and he is most certainly worthy of being a Prime, but the part about his character that I love the most?

He doesn’t need to be a Prime to be a Leader.

He doesn’t need the Matrix.

And it’s better that way.

[calleo-bricriu]

Quid Pro Quo

(( Look at me, cleaning things up into a single post in a timely manner! This was a private thread between myself and @ministerfudge .

As usual, edits made for clarity, grammar, and weird tense shifts because I’m amazing at shifting tense about 3 times in the same phrase. :)

 Continuation of this ask. ))

(This one has been strangely charmed with several layers of interlocking, stubborn, difficult to remove warding. The Minister, of course, will be able to read and reply. To anyone else, it will simply look like scratch paper.)   Since the director decided to do a bit of gossip as though I either can’t see it or won’t be made aware of it, are you one of those sorts who’s open to a quid pro quo arrangement? Nothing, as Director Yandle stated, illegal, of course.

Cornelius wasn’t sure what Calleo meant at first. What sort of services were they to exchange? There’s nothing he can think of that he needed from the other wizard, apart from maybe…

“In exchange for you no longer telling me how to do my job, what are you looking for? “

The Minister chose to deliver the note in person to save the slow passing and forwards backward of memos.

Calleo, instead of an answer, blinked owlishly a few times. He’d expected another memo in return because that’s how memos work; having the response that was written by the person in the room who had also essentially read the contents of the memo aloud managed to briefly stun him.

The Minister.

Of course.

These sorts of talks always ran long; Calleo removed his glasses and let them drop. Hanging from the ends of a string of differently sized, multi-shades-of-blue, they almost had the appearance of being a statement piece, which was really only a nicer way of saying tacky.

“Tempting, but that isn’t what I want.” Calleo grinned and folded his arms on the desk, leaning forward to rest his chin on them. “There’s an Auror that’s been in Magical Law Enforcement for several decades.”

“We had an–” he paused to consider how to word it, “–altercation during the First War; it’s in my records and it was ruled self defence.”

“The problem is that she still maintains, to a paranoid level, that I’m somehow dangerous or a ‘Death Eater in disguise’, which I’m not, just so we’re clear–like my left forearm is.”

“And do you have a guess as to what that makes her do?” Calleo had now sunk his face down a bit, leaving his voice slightly muffled by the rainbow coloured, thick (and obviously Muggle made), wool sweater’s sleeves.

“Rhetorical. She’ll use her position to assign a Hit Wizard to trail me for anything from a day or two to sometimes months at a time. She never gets her evidence because it’s never existed; I don’t so much mind the Hit Wizard ( @legilimens-corvus-frugilegus ) that always volunteers for what amounts to a paid holiday. He’s great, we hit some of the lesser known hole-in-the-wall places in Knockturn and set up people who have active warrants.”

“Anyway,” the word stretched out along with Calleo’s arms before he briefly appeared to be moving to sit like a normal adult. Instead, he kicked his feet, bumblebee slippers an all, up onto the desk and tilted his chair back. “That’s a complete waste of Ministry resources. It may not be much in monetary cost, but it takes one Auror’s focus off of her job and one Hit Wizard off the list of people being available to do anything else but babysit me.”

“Oh!” He snapped his fingers, “And I nearly forgot! The Werewolf Registry somehow managed to get an order that barred me from publishing tested theory to fact on how magical warding reads them as humans and not beasts or animals. Didn’t stop me from having it published outside of the UK but if you could make that nasty little bit of censorship disappear, it would be appreciated.”

“What do you want to make that happen and remain permanent as long as you manage to hold onto the position of Minister?” Calleo’s smile wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, but it wasn’t exactly friendly either. It only looked friendly if it managed to distract enough from the shrewd, carefully observant expression in his eyes.

“To give you a place to start, I’m not about to stop wearing the cardigans and bee slippers. It’s cold down here and I’m not about to start any kind of fire with so much paper in the room, and I’ll keep the majority of my criticisms to Magical Law Enforcement, but I won’t be silent.”

Calleo stretched again, this time grabbing the back of the chair, “Never mind what I’m doing, I sit in the worst possible positions most of the day. Now, where was I?”

“Oh, right! I’m also not willing to pretend that there isn’t solid, validated, and vetted evidence that Voldemort is not actually dead, that werewolves aren’t human, and that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement doesn’t need to do some purging in its ranks.”

There were many times during Calleo’s speech that Fudge opened his mouth to talk and then promptly closed it again. If there was ever a competition for who could speak for the longest amount of time, he knew that the other wizard would surely win. The Minister stood, patiently as he could manage, as the other talked, fidgeting and trying not to visibly flinch at the mention of werewolves - because they’re scary even when it’s not the full moon. Fudge tried to not let his irrational fear get in the way of his policies but sometimes it proved difficult.

In a way, he also wished that this Hit Wizard actually did their job and silenced Calleo. But then who would bug him? It was like a love/hate thing. Fudge would miss the attention no matter how much he pretended to hate it.

“I’d have to read this theory first, before I lift anything.” Cornelius started, “But I’d be willing to speak to the Auror.” Wow, how easy was it to bargain with him? Had he always been like this? “If you tell me her name, of course.”

“But I’m not sure what else you can think I want other than what I’ve asked for — you to not tell me how to do my job — so I think we’re at a crossroads here.”

There was something, of course, that Cornelius could think of but he wouldn’t dare say it out loud. It’s been a long time since he’d been intimate with anybody; Merlin, it had been a long time since somebody had done anything but shake his hand. Yes, he was lonelier than he ever cared to admit out loud and he always blamed it on his job.

The truth was, the only reason why Cornelius worked so much was because he had no one to go home to.

Fudge crossed his arms over his chest. “We don’t need to talk about whether or not you think You-Know-Who is back because he died. It’s impossible for him to come back. So let’s not discuss that.” Before he started to worry about the idea because what if he is back? How would Fudge deal with such an ordeal?

“Unless you can think of something that would be of value to me personally, I don’t think I can make a deal with you.”

“Auror Pavidus.” Any drier and his voice might have caused the entire room to feel it. “Older Witch, completely messed up one side of her face with a blasting curse. She started it anyway and–” Calleo shrugged and finally let go of the back of the chair when the Minister gave the very, very strong and almost blatant statement that he’d blindly signed something like that.

“I knew it! I knew the lot of you didn’t read it, saw the word ‘Werewolves’ and immediately tried to censor the findings that prove an entire department incorrect and the treatment of those people as nothing more than violent beasts is abhorrent and cruel,” as that little rant went on, Calleo sat up to rummage through one of his desk drawers. “It isn’t even difficult to contain them to a small space like, say, a room at St. Mungo’s for the night, because any security warding that will stop a human will stop someone infected with lyconthropy due to the fact that they’re still human. Anywhere the security ward combination in that paper is applied it’ll keep a transformed werewolf contained as though they were fenced in.”

“They’re humans with a manageable but chronic illness and deserve to be treated as such, whether you like that fact or not is irrelevant. Reality doesn’t give a damn if you decide you want to disagree with it.”  The short stack of papers–not stack, that word was far too strong for three pages–he had taken from the desk drawer ended up being set down hard enough to cause a loud, short cracking sound on the desk’s surface before he shoved the papers over to the Minister. If his hand hadn’t been firmly and flat on the top of the three pages, they might have been actually thrown across the desk.

“It’s a massive three pages, as you can plainly see. I trust that’s not too long for you to read thoroughly.”

His response to the Voldemort situation got a laugh that Calleo couldn’t manage to stop in time and the–it wasn’t even anger, more exasperation mixed with irritation–mood an tone from seconds before evaporated with the laugh and settled back into a perfectly friendly smile, “And I’ve got four old texts that say it’s very possible to come back, provided you sliced your soul to ribbons and bound it to an object. Nasty stuff, awful ritual, lots of murder, blood, and, frankly, unmentionable acts involved–it’s mainly meant for horrid people who are terrified of death and being forgotten. I can get the most commonly used book with the original ritual up in about five minutes; the others have modified versions and are a bit bad tempered, so they take about forty-five minutes to an hour to fetch.”

“How about I won’t tell you how to do your job publicly as a compromise?” Any sign of irritation that had been present hardly minutes prior now was long gone and the cheerful grin replaced it with a well practised shift.

“You can’t think of anything that would be of value to you?”

Calleo paused for a moment, “Don’t think that I don’t know how this sort of thing usually works, Minister. It’s not even close to the first time I’ve done this dance. Inside politics often functions the same as most parts of the Unseen Market but I doubt I have anything in my collection you’d want; don’t seem the type to collect that sort of thing and I’m not certain you’re exempt from raids if you haven’t got the correct explicit permits.”

“Although,” Calleo’s frequently present grin took on a sharp edge, “if you are, and you just keep it well hidden because rumours of you being one of us unstable, social pariah addicts could ruin the career of someone not in the Department of Mysteries, you’re more than welcome to look through it.”

“At any rate, as long as it doesn’t kill me or leave me permanently disfigured, damaged, or sticky, temporarily or somehow permanently–I hate sticky things, awful sensation–and doesn’t interfere with any of my existing relationships, which,” somehow Calleo managed to interrupt himself there, “it won’t. They’re all well aware of what I get up to and are completely fine with it–I’m good for whatever it is you want to get that idiot of an Auror off my neck. She makes an already complicated and stressful job unnecessarily difficult; it’s been like that since 1983.”

“Name it, and we’ll go from there, because you’re clearly not after Galleons, you wouldn’t be willing to focus on a single Auror’s behaviour just to make me stop being the verbal equivalent to an opinion editorial in the Prophet; I can hardly negotiate anything if I don’t know what you want out of it and you know exactly what I want out of it.”

“I’ll go ahead and guess right now that if her being short-leashed, muzzled, and kept out of my yard on a permanent basis is going to require what I suspect you’re after on a permanent basis as well–well, until she dies or retires or you’re shoehorned out of your position as Minister, at any rate.”

Fudge didn’t get how some people were completely fine around Werewolves, full moon or not, but apparently, part of this wager was for him to read whatever Calleo had written and he had to try and put his own ignorance aside for the matter. If he were to get what he wanted, he’d have to stop the block on it. It could potentially be worth it… it’d been so long since Cornelius had had anything he’d almost forgotten what it was like. 

“Publicly. In front of anybody. If you’d like to tell me yourself, you can write it on one of those little notes.” He nodded towards the memo that Calleo had sent him and then let his eyes travel to the other wizard’s face again. 

“I don’t want anything from your collection.” Fudge shook his head. If he wanted something, he tended to get it; it was a perk of being Minister. Not many people questioned what you were looking for. 

It was the mention of Calleo’s current relationships that made Cornelius go red. And then the mention of him suspecting something that made the heat continue to rise to his ears and his defensive stance falter a little. Was it that obvious, or was Calleo using legilimency on him right now?

“What is it you think I want?” Fudge doesn’t want to be the one to mention it, but he could hardly ignore the longing feeling in his stomach, the way his mouth was a little drier or how hard his heart was thudding in his chest. It wasn’t like he’d never thought about what it would be like to be like that with Calleo and not just because it came to him as an idea to shut him up one time. 

Maybe that’s what happens when you’re so touch-starved you become almost desperate for anything. He didn’t know.

“Mm. Probably easier to take swings at the Department that’s supposed to be the Department taking care of that kind of nonsense, which would be Magical Law Enforcement, specifically the Auror Office.” He leaned back is his chair again, “They certainly can bark at me all they like, but they haven’t got any teeth, and the ones the litany of complaints don’t target don’t mind.”

“Mind you, they don’t do anything about the inept ones, the ones with inappropriately extreme reactionary views, or those who believe addicts should be jailed in a place that’s demonstrably cruel and only fuels the addiction they had when they were sentenced, making them significantly more likely to land back in Azkaban, stuck on that cycle until they die.”

Calleo leveled an even cold expression at the Minister, “Do you know what they do to people? Have you seen it first hand? Have you seen what happens when the body doesn’t die after a Kiss? I can take you to meet her sometime. “

“Just for clarification, you don’t want anything critical said of you, your policy contents or direction to anyone?” Calleo narrowed his eyes just slightly, though the odd cloudiness over his voice disappeared as quickly as it had come on and left no trace in the cheerful wake of his usual voice, “That’s a broad sweeping demand that deserves a broad sweeping demand be met in return: Get that paper off the blacklist and force the hands of the relevant people if they won’t cooperate to get them at least started on dismantling that division and getting preliminary planning phase started for St. Mungo’s to assist in dealing with management of a chronic illness with the potential to be contagious but no more so than anyone else if proper precautions are put into place.”

“I might suggest, if you haven’t got the political capital to disband the Werewolf Division, strong preference for positions of rank in that division ought to be actual werewolves.”

“I’m well aware those sorts of social changes often take years before any major progress is made, but I see no good reason as to why dismantling can’t get to work on putting the gears in place. Lycanthropy is a life altering illness, but it shouldn’t be a life destroying one and changing that is easy enough that it fit on thee. pages.”

“It’s also, I might add, been repeatedly and successfully, with and without wolfsbane, tested at every full moon since that was written.”

For a minute or two Calleo sat quietly still mulling over something to do with werewolves, “Keep in mind, Minister, that people who like to call themselves Dark Lords know how to appeal to the sorts of people Wizarding societies push to the edges or exile entirely. They will approach werewolves and anything you’d see crawling around Knockturn, and they will be successful in taking them into the fold–when those who feel rejected and unwanted by society, any offer to belong to a society or even to a group of people who don’t immediately hate you, fear you, or see you as subhuman. It’ll be easy to turn every bit of anger and resentment they have right back around on the rest of us and it will be entirely the Ministry’s fault if they fail to act on assisting vulnerable parts of Wizarding society out of fear.”

Werewolves must be a hot button issue.

Calleo tilted his head to the left in an odd, bird-like movement, “That’s a first. Most people at least want to look at the collection. Just as well, probably, some of it’s incredibly nasty pieces of work. It’s all under lock and key, so to speak, that’s worlds better than the actual legal guidelines.

“As for what I suspect your demand in return is, I’ve ruled out money as bribery due to it being illegal and Gringott’s would certainly notice any odd cash movements of that nature. I’m finally back on good terms with them and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“And you’ve just said you have no interest in anything out of my collection, which I’m always going to find a little odd. Reckon it does seem a little off putting if you’re not used to handling it or being around that sort of magic, even if it’s heavily muted by the security system.”

“So, generally–” Calleo stopped whatever flippant and likely cutting remark that had first come to mind.

“Company.” This time he stated his not quite a guess matter-of-factly along with a shrug that was a dead match for his tone. The first answer that had come to mind may have been loads more fun to say but considering that the Minister now looked like he was one tinny word away from needing to lie down Calleo elected to take a more vague, heavily coded way of speaking.

“That’s what most of them want anyway, even if it’s only an hour or two a couple of times out of the week. Certain professions don’t care to be honest about how isolating the work can be or that you end up surrounded by sycophants who nearly always tell you what they know you want to hear.”

“The ones that don’t often end up sacked, and you can’t sack me. Not in the a way that’d make me lose my job at any rate. You could try to order the head of the Department of Mysteries to do it but he’d likely must laugh and walk away and Director Yandle would offer a similar response though I probably ought to warn you if you damage my so badly I have to take time off of work, you’ll absolutely hear from Director Yandle and I’ve seen him get like that before; he’s very quiet and completely terrifying.”

He laughed and shook his head, “I haven’t managed to completely terrifying part very well yet and it mostly just comes off as though I’ve lost my voice!”

“I’ll take a guess based on your reactions here that you’re after the sort of company nobody knows you’d ever be looking for, you know, apart from the partners of mine who want to know if I’m spending company company with someone else. One of those communication things.” ”If you don’t want suspicion or rumours, I’d suggest a formal write up–the AƉ9-Mţ, specifically. It’s a level five; requires at least two daily progress meetings with the Minister for Magic and nobody in this entire building who’s met me for more than ten minutes would ever question that.” Either Calleo had been thinking ahead or he hadn’t been remotely joking when he’d said it wasn’t nearly his first time playing this game.

“Well, apart from Director Yandle, but he’d figure it out quickly enough then not talk to me opting instead to stare in bewilderment for a few seconds before retreating to his office.”

“Fine by me, really; got two like that, one doesn’t mind if I tell others his name, the other absolutely does. The married couple likes to know but doesn’t typically have objections, apprehensions, of course, but no objections and–he was bothering you a bit for awhile, wasn’t he? Percival? Don’t mind him, he really is a dirty old man; does that stuff to get a rise–pun usually intended–out of someone.”

“This office is dreadful for that kind of thing; everything in here feeds off of energy,  magical, emotional, psychological and anything else it thinks it can get out of you and if you’re  used to having that happen, most people tend to panic. It’s possible but, people outside the field tend to get more than a little prickly about it” Calleo turned to give the antique, thread-bare sofa a critical look, “That’d probably just fall apart and send springs flying. Really ought to get it redone.”

Calleo then turned his judgey gaze back to the desk, “And I never recommend touching the wood on any part of that thing; got about a century and a half’s worth of blood soaked into it, it may actually be sentient at this point but hasn’t started moving on its own. Yet.”

“Your office, on the other hand may as well be an overly large flat; just move the table out of the way and tweak your anti-apparation wards to let me in and out with minimal noise. wards and nobody even has to have the slightest idea that I was there at all. Obviously wouldn’t see me either direction. Braxford’s got a good charm that kills light so effectively you can’t see a Fiendfyre in the middle of it. If ’m working late I put it around my open door and have it extend back a couple of feet so whoever it is is incredibly surprised to find someone there. Nice failsafe even if the door is locked.”

“Unless you don’t want to be here at all–I really have no strong opinions one way or another, I’m nothing if not accommodating.

Quite frankly, no; Cornelius did not want to see what happens to a body when it doesn’t die after a Kiss. He’d rather keep as far away from Azkaban and Dementors as possible. There were other people to do that job for him - he was just the one that told everyone else what to do. It was what he was supposed to do. But there was power with his job, and he would make sure this Auror didn’t waste any more of her time chasing down Calleo.

Even Cornelius isn’t stupid enough to believe that the Wizard has anything to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. There were other people who worked in the Ministry who were a lot closer to the Dark Lord when he was around, and those people were the ones who should be watched. Calleo may surround himself with dark magic, but Cornelius was sure that he didn’t do anything that would constitute him as a dark wizard. 

As Calleo talked, Cornelius looked down at the three pieces of paper on the table that Calleo wanted him to read so desperately. Fudge tried to keep himself so far away from the subject of werewolves, he didn’t actually realise people cared so passionately for them. As far as Fudge was concerned, they were just creatures - monsters - that should be treated as such. It would take a long time, and Fudge may not even be in power to see the end of such a change… but if it meant closeness and intimacy… and if he never had to stand face to face with a werewolf… it might just be worth it.

It wasn’t bad to be a little selfish sometimes, was it? He could do something for the sake of a group of people if it meant that he got something out of it, couldn’t he?

The subject of the Dark Lord came up again and Cornelius shifted uncomfortably. He hated that idea; and he hated that Calleo had put the thought in his head too. What if he was right? What if someone else came along and tried to do what Voldemort did all those years ago and the werewolves joined that side? What if the werewolves came after him? It was a classic case of keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer. 

Fudge nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Merlin, he didn’t realise he was so easy to scare.

“I don’t want money.” Fudge replied almost instantly. It wasn’t a money thing; he had plenty of it. The saying was true - money couldn’t buy happiness. He went red again at the mention of company. It made him feel a little pathetic; like a lonely man who has to do someone a favour just so he can get someone to be with him. It is pathetic, Fudge supposed. Calleo had a lot of leverage over him right now; he could bribe him into anything.

It seemed like Fudge was going to be just another notch on Calleo’s bedpost, and Calleo would be his… second? How embarrassing, but Calleo didn’t need to know that. Not yet, anyway. “I know I  can’t sack you,” Fudge stated. He’d already looked into it. Calleo was too valuable to the Ministry - he knew too much. And he certainly knew too much about Fudge’s private life for him to be let go now. 

“How did you know?” Cornelius asked, his voice quiet now. His body language softer, arms uncrossed and by his side, like he’s relieved that a secret he’s been holding so close to his chest for so long is no longer there but out in the open; like a weight has been lifted from his chest. Was it that obvious though? That he liked men?

“No–” Fudge wanted it. God, he wanted it. “I’ll get that done.” He nodded. “When does this … agreement start?”

“Outreach, and not as a veil to try and distract from the fact that you’ll detain them or make sure everyone else now knows they’re a werewolf; that office does that and it drives them further and further away from feeling as though they belong.”

The Minister’s all but open dismissal of the short paper regarding lycanthropy and, wordlessly stood, walked around his desk and to the table the papers had been left, scooping them up in one fluid motion, following through to pin them between his hand and the Minister’s shirt, “It’s three. pages. Single sided. You’ll read it now.”

He hadn’t raised his voice any louder than he’d been speaking seconds prior, and nothing obvious had changed in his body language or movements. Calleo often moved with relative grace–in his own office, at any rate–there had been a distinct, albeit brief coldness flash across his eyes but perhaps it had been an illusion? They looked as they had a few seconds ago, and this time Calleo didn’t return to sit behind his desk.

He stood there, evidently fully intent on the Minister taking the time to read three pages of tested research.

“I do like that dynamic at the Ministry in general, the one where none of you outside this department can do anything to those of us down here unless someone snaps and starts picking off Muggles as they walk by the building on account of people threatening to do it then finding out that we only have to listen to the rest of you upstairs if we feel like it,” he ended with a sharp laugh and shook his head slightly.

“Have you ever played cards with someone who’s not familiar with the game that’s going on? And how they sort of try to mimic the other people around them so they won’t be found out as not having any idea what’s going on, but it never quite works for the people around who’ve got a lot of experience with the card game being played–and nobody says anything out of politeness?”

“It’s kind of like that. A put on personality isn’t all that convincing if you’re not into selling it and making it look real. People pick up on that, you know, then they start to get the idea that you're  disingenuously or hiding something. Have you considered your actual personality at any point?”

Calleo shrugged, “Well, that and the fact that nobody turns that shade of red during normal conversation or nineteenth century coded extra mild wording and you still looked you were about to die at the word company. Likely a good thing I didn’t say something vulgar; you might have fainted, and these are stone floors.”

That reminds me, though,“ he absently scratched the side of his head, “When I say company it’s fine to take it with or without implications; I haven’t got objections to either implications of the word. If you meant company company, however, this office? Not a good place for that, watch.”

Calleo, barely raising his voice to that of a standard loud talker, not a screaming child or normal indoor conversation levels, asked one question, “Director, how clearly can you hear me at this volume?”

“You could give me reports through the wall.” Not surprisingly, the voice was coming through the wall slightly muffled but still clear enough to be heard, “Put up your bunch of stealth and silencing charms if you trust anyone else in there not die. Or, better yet, go somewhere that’s less likely to try and rip someone’s throat out with teeth that only look as though they’re made of paper.”

After he’d finished the clearly mature behavior of someone in his 30s by making a rude gesture at the wall that shared its other side the director’s office.

“Unless you want to come back down here after everyone but Maintenance and I are gone I’m sure you have keys that leaves your office, somewhere else, or, the last director turned one little room into a small flat sometime before Director Yandle started working here. Looks like a time capsule, but it’s always been kept in good shape by the rest of the department.”

“Downside of that!” Were there any upsides to anywhere in the Ministry at this point? “Is that it takes a little over an hour to get down there and past the massive levels of security that will scan and rescan you several times.”

“First few levels aren’t too bad, it’s around level 5, just before it goes down again toward level 6, at which point you’re in the areas where things can kill you so, you know don’t touch anything without asking about it first because I do not want the paperwork that would go along with "Accidentally murdered the Minister”?

“More than three pages, I can tell you that much.”

“Or, if none of that pans out, there’s always Exfugio and several layers of silencing charms literally anywhere. Nobody sweeps for it; it’s an obscure old thing that’s, frankly, better than a standard disillusionment charm, which everyone sweeps for.”

The Minister is surprised at Calleo’s actions, and he blinks, silent for a moment at the pressing of the hand against his chest. Yes, there’s three pieces of paper in between it but it’s the most human contact he’s had in… a very long time. So Cornelius did as he was told (he was actually quite obedient when he became comfortable around somebody, and that was probably not the best quality for a Minister for Magic to have) and started to read the pages. 

There was a small frown on his face as he concentrated, occasionally mouthing the words as he reads, blocking out whatever it is that Calleo was saying for a moment - something about dynamics and how no one can fire people in his department. Fudge looked up again from the paper as Calleo answered his question about how obvious he was. That was another thing - similar to his lack of human contact, Cornelius could rarely remember a time where he was truly himself around somebody. The people he spent most of his time with were his employees - and they don’t need to see the full extent of his somewhat submissive, quiet and gentle nature. It’s not what he wanted others to see him as, especially when there were rumours going around about You-Know-Who being back and Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore being at the forefront of that. 

Not to mention how betrayed he’d felt by Dumbledore all those years ago. No - it’s always been a lot better to keep to himself. Until now. Cornelius was curious. “Would you like to see my actual personality?” He asked, amused at the thought, and his eyes flicked down to the papers again until Calleo asked him to watch. He was alarmed as he heard the Director’s response - had he heard everything they’d talked about?! - Cornelius decided it’s much better for them to spend time in his office. At least it’s away from everyone else’s offices. They’d have some privacy. 

Calleo continued to talk and Cornelius continued to read; the study was interesting and there was a part of him that was left a little more at ease with the idea of helping werewolves but he was still terrified of them. He bit his lip in thought.

'How much does it cost to brew the Wolfsbane potion?’ Cornelius asked. He wanted to sit down, to think about this more, but he was nervous to touch anything in this office considering what Calleo and the Director have already said. So he stayed standing, and realised that he was now quite close to the other wizard. They were certainly close enough for one person to put their hand on the other’s chest like before. He wanted to know what it would feel like without the papers – or clothing – between them. And his face went a little hot at the thought.

Calleo was right; the papers weren’t that long and it was just a study. Perhaps they could conduct a bigger one… to see if it’s unanimous across all werewolves… Would it make them like the Minister more? Would it keep him safer from them if he treated them less like Beasts and more like people?

“And there’s a block on this? A simple study? Did the departments read this at all or was it stopped before that?”

When Calleo moved away, he did so with what could have been interpreted as a light shove, had he not curled his fingertips  instead to make it a sharp, albeit still light shove.

“At the very least the divisions and offices that deal with werewolves need that as mandatory literature.”

“As for wolfsbane, cost for ingredients alone makes it out of the price range a werewolf could afford; it’s also difficult to brew, which also brings the cost up. Without anyone being willing to hire them, they have no money and can’t even afford a decent amount of clothes.”

Hey, at least he got the Minister to read the paper!

"That depends entirely on whether you mean what you’re like away from work or whether that’s just a bizarre nickname for parts of one’s anatomy.” Calleo leaned right back up against the desk he’d warned the Minister about.

Catching the look that followed the Director pointing out the walls are thin Calleo offered a lazy shrug in response. “Don’t worry about him. He’s mostly just needling–well, you right now. He could catch me in here with someone, ask for a file and I’d get it for him and he’d just walk right back out.”

“I do still think that you worry far to much about everything, you know. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack one of these days.”

He gave the Minister a few minutes to finish reading the paper.

“Going to venture a guess that you’re not all that keen on the crowded places in general which is just as well as I’m as well. Your office is probably nicer with the trade off of people. Everyone still does find your office easily.”

“The one a few levels down you have to know and remember which runes were lit this time them reenter once you want out. ”

“C'mon then.” Calleo reached out to grab a lapel or any part of the Minister’s jacket really. “You’re the one who went from ‘I have no idea why I’m here” to 'don’t care where we are just get on with it!’ In the span of about a minute. Your office or the basement office?“

"Your office at least has a decent skyline view and those two sofas I’m pretty sure rarely get used for anything at all.”

Yes, a werewolf couldn’t afford it but what Cornelius wanted to know was whether it would cost too much for the Ministry to provide it free of charge. He supposed it would only need to be created 12 times a year, and it could create more jobs for people. It was something he could consider. 

“No, I don’t have a nickname for any part of my anatomy,” Cornelius replied with a shake of his head. “I’m the Minister, it’s my job to worry.” Aside from burying his head in the sand when it came to the whole You-Know-Who issue, Cornelius spent most of his time worrying. Calleo was right; he’d end up in St. Mungos himself if he wasn’t careful.

Maybe he needed to relax a little. The thought of doing anything on those sofas made him flush again. Gosh, he couldn’t walk through the corridors of the Ministry with Calleo, completely red in the face.

“I think the basement office is probably the best idea right now,” he finally managed. This was actually happening, wasn’t it? Cornelius’s palms were sweating, hands shaking with nerves. He handed the papers back to Calleo. “Send me a copy of those later and I’ll see to it that the right people read it and do something to fix the issue.” Fudge tried to keep his voice as level and calm as possible.

“We can do my office another time.” This wasn’t what he’d expected when he walked into Calleo’s office, but Fudge certainly wasn’t going to start complaining.

Calleo caught the silence that followed the Wolfsbane information and explained further while checking over the office's door locks; it never was a good idea to have someone who didn't work in that department just wander in unsupervised.

"If they can't afford it, it's pointless to ask what it costs; it's less that the ingredients are expensive in and of themselves and more that the brewing process is so particular, specific, and complicated. It is not, however, anywhere near the cost or time put in that some of the other treatments provided for more socially acceptable illnesses treated--and sometimes treated long term or lifelong--by St. Mungo's."

"You know why they'd resist it or why the public would resist it, or even why the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures would push back on it." The door itself shut quickly enough that it ought to have made some kind of noise beyond complete silence. That must have been normal as Calleo didn't give it a second glance.

"The question," Calleo kept speaking as he walked past the Minister and toward the door on the far side of the room that, in contrast to the office door, had the look of something perfectly ordinary, "that needs to be asked isn't whether or not it's affordable but whether or not it'll be on your administration's legacy to have started changing policies, procedures, and societal misconceptions around them. We're talking about people here, not wild pest animals, and there are plenty of other much more dangerous creatures out there, some of which come into significantly more frequent contact with humans than werewolves ever do."

"Or," he shrugged at the door, "whether your administration will be remembered for stubbornly upholding a cruel status quo." When he fell silent, it wasn't to let words sink in or to give the Minister time to think about it, he was simply unlocking then setting up the triggers to close and to re-arm the door once they'd passed through it.

The door itself, an innocuous, plain looking thing--when someone without the key sigil set that allowed them to pass unobstructed or, at least, without the magic surrounding the area making itself visible as a reminder that it was there and the person who wasn't in possession of specific keys would do well to remember that. It didn't respond much to Calleo beyond a subtle shift in the energy of the room. 

When the door got it into its head that the Minister was a little too close without having been granted permission to be that close, the entire thing lit up along with the majority of the security magic that could now be seen so tightly knit against and around anything that could be potentially dangerous that the objects behind them were entirely obscured, taking on both the appearance and feel of something that knew it was allowed to do more than bite if the offending Other Person stepped too close.

Calleo, for his part, didn't seem to find that behaviour at all strange, though the automatic feel to his explanation seemed so well-rehersed that it was likely something he said multiple times per day.

"They didn't have any sort of security on this department for years, save for a lift that continually breaks down--knock it off--" the door got a small tap with the back of his hand. Better to make the unlocking mechanism as ambiguous and murky as possible; even the Minister wouldn't have what would be considered sufficient rights to access some areas of the department, and the fewer details he saw about how the place went into and came out of lockdown the better.

"Your Undersecretary, the one with the grating voice and all the pink, she's continually trying to make us remove it as 'not Ministry approved' and--" whatever Calleo had done beyond telling the door's security to "knock it off" did, in fact, cause the visible magic to fade and retreat from the doorway itself, "--made a complete and expensive mess of the place in the process of trying to let the Ministry approved contractor deal with it. She also doesn't like it when I tell her she's not Department of Mystery approved."

"You are the Minister for the moment, but it isn't your job to worry; that's why you have departments, directors, and advisors. It's your job to lead. It's their job to bring any potential snags in what you're planning to you so it can be discussed as to whether the concerns are valid or not and rework as necessary."

He remembered, somehow, to take a glance back and see if the Minister was following him or not, literally in this case, "You're going to want to keep up; the first three levels are mostly overlap with Records and are generally harmless. Beyond that, most of the department staff that disappear or die after a couple of years do it in here."

"Not as bad as the Brain Room's fatality numbers," muttered under his breath there, "They won't even label the wall outside of that room, let alone put up a door or even a magical reminder of "Warning: This room contains brains that will literally kill you." They just expect everyone to know and go with this, 'Oh, well, they DID walk into the Brain Room, and you have to expect to be killed by brains if you go into the Brain room.' sort of thing."

Whichever level they were at now seemed--ordinary, a bit like a section of a library and much less like a place that held anything that could be a danger for anything more than a paper cut.

At the top of one of the stairways leading to deeper levels, Calleo turned around to face the Minister, "Do you really not recognise the name Percival Graves? You're old enough that you ought to at least remember it from the first European Magical History books revised and republished after that war if you're going to try and tell me you're under eighty."

He turned, stepping off to the side and gesturing for the Minister to walk in front of him, "I used to keep people walking behind me after this level, until I realised that the majority of them couldn't manage to not try and touch things that were trying to lure them into touching; that's how nasty curses spread and also how you lose fingers, hands arms, heads blood--and I hate cleaning up blood, when that happens down here it's this awful, detailed, time consuming process as half of what's in here can completely ruin your life if it gets any of it absorbed."

"Assuming you don't die in the process." The shrug wasn't physical but clearly present in his voice. "It's also a lot of extra paperwork that I don't really have the time to deal with so--anything that's on a shelf from this point on? If it looks at you, don't make eye contact. If it talks to you, ignore it, don't even turn to look at it. Nothing can reach you from the shelves if you stay in the center of the corridor but, as a reminder, don't. touch. anything. Nothing in here is as sweet and cloying as it plays at being, that's how it lures people who don't know what it is."

"You know what? Just put your hands in whatever pockets you've got and leave them there for now. The only other person in this entire building I'd even remotely trust to be down past Level Four without extensive supervision is the Director."

Once the Minister had walked past him--and if he didn't, he might find out how quickly Calleo would and could move him, this was his element, after all--and Calleo stepped away from the staircase landing a door that had not strictly been there prior came into view and promptly locked itself down as though it moonlighted as an Azkaban cell door.

"Director thinks the last Director lived down here. He never saw her leave, and he never saw her arrive in the lifts, not that that means much, there are two different ways out of here once you get down to the lowest level so she could have just been coming in that way."

Calleo remained pleasantly conversational, describing little things about the Archives. "He says she worked down here most of the time too, which does seem like a good way to avoid having to deal with anyone else at the Ministry; if someone doesn't know how to safely get down here they either have the common sense to turn around or they press on and either get extremely lucky or extremely dead."

Could he hear the entire room whispering a confusing mix of thousands of things? Most likely, he'd mentioned to the Minister to ignore any suggestions that seemed to be coming from shelves or specific books, after all. Whatever the eerie background noise it made, if it affected Calleo in the slightest, there was no outward sign.

With the way he was talking, one might have had the impression that he viewed everything in the place as completely harmless, provided you knew how to handle it. The air, especially as the level numbers increased, would have been stifling, almost suffocating and oppressive to most who weren't used to Dark Magic in general or not used to being around massive, close quarters concentrations of it.

He had been correct, however, in stating that nothing could reach them at the center of the corridor, though several things could get alarmingly close before being snapped back to its respective spot on the shelf, "Level five is the worst, it's where the majority of the texts on Blood Magic are, and everything bites. Some of them actually have to be fed or the paper and leather starts decaying. We typically use chickens for that. Hate it when it's my turn on that rotation."

"It's not difficult," Calleo turned a lazy gaze to one particularly movement filled shelf, "it's more that they know and if you think they're acting out now you should see them when there's actual, easy to get blood and you can't just throw it onto everything, that'd cause a lot of damage, we've got these long--ladles for lack of a better word."

"Some of them," He didn't expect the Minister to notice which ones, "have to be at least given a little--snack daily; the older it is, the more frequently it needs to be fed before it starts falling apart and some of these are the only copies left so they absolutely get fed until someone here has the time to finish transcribing them. Even then, they'll still get fed; I'm good at exact copies, right down to the magic woven into the pages and ink, but there are a few that can't be fully replicated due to the way the original author wrote it."

There was a good chance that the poor Minister had checked out and had no interest in Calleo affectionately talking about genuinely horrible magic and its care and maintenance, though seemed awfully cheerful about it all; he certainly hadn't been exaggerating about how long it took to get to the buried little flat on the lowest level.

"Don't listen to anything on Level 6. Department of Mysteries recently had me weed through some cluttered storeroom to separate out actually cursed things from horcruxes awhile back, and the horcruxes that had been attached to books are on Level 6."

"They're very friendly; the primary passive way of resurrection is to simply take over someone else's mind, kill the person living in it, and settle in to a new-to-the living body. That's why they're friendly, they want you to get to know them, befriend them, listen to them talk about how unfairly they were maligned in their first life, and won't you please sit and chat awhile, because they're all so lonely."

Calleo flashed a grin at one of the shelves as they passed, "I know six people on that shelf; thought they'd died anywhere between 1982 and 1990 and I might have something nice to say about them if four of them hasn't inconveniently died while still owing me several thousand galleons and two hid books of mine they'd borrowed behind fidelius charms. They're the secret keepers, they just don't want to tell me."

He shrugged lightly then laughed far, far too cheerfully, "Legilimency and Mensrapere for the most stubborn ones work well enough on them it's more a matter of finding the time to do it and it's technically a personal project. This level is why a high level of skill with Occlumency is a job requirement; it blocks most of them from being able to do any real damage, though you have to adjust how you're using Occlumency to keep them out as how a horcrux will 'talk' to you in your mind is different than someone just using Legilimency."

"I talk to people using Legilimency all the time, and I've had one of those things try to worm its way into my head; completely different feeling. Kind of like--if you've never stuck your hand into dirty dish water and had food brush across your hand, that comparison probably won't work. Maybe--it feels kind of like stepping in a puddle and not being able to dry your socks because Muggles are around so you just have to live with the gross, wet sock feeling for awhile."

"Oh hey!" Calleo laughed again, this time taking a good thirty seconds to regain control of himself, "I just thought of another reason I don't mess about in my office; there are six people who live on the desk. All those paperweights, those are people. There's a branch of Transfiguration that falls under the Dark Arts, you know--" he shook his head, "If I'm ever talking to myself in there, I'm not, I'm talking to the lot of them. They can hear, see, and feel everything going on around them but they can't react to it as they'd been turned into various inanimate objects by someone who is either unknown or long dead and the original caster is required to reverse it when it's modified like that. But hey, that's another thing--"

This time, Calleo stepped forward quickly enough to make a grab for the Minister's shoulder either to get him to turn around or to turn him around, "Do you have any idea how many times I've purposely made appointments with the Wizengamot to petition to allow a killing curse to be used as a mercy in those cases? Some of those people have been stuck like that since the late eighteenth century, and will remain trapped until something 'kills' the object they were transfigured into and bound to. Every time it's brushed aside in a way I can only describe as, 'That's an interesting story, but we'll still send you to Azkaban if you kill them'."

"You know that's not right. I know the lot of you know that you're keeping them condemned to be trapped like that because they're still technically alive. They an speak to anyone who can use Legilimency and have been repeatedly denied that, as it seems like some of you think it's just me doing a puppet show of sorts."

"You bypass the Wizengamot frequently enough to sign off on things you've barely skimmed, you all but admitted that earlier. Even the one that's been permanently transfigured for the shortest amount of time has been there since 1976. Nobody deserves a fate like that but I'm not about to risk Azkaban--that's an entirely different kettle of bees there."

"We're switching positions for Level 7." Evidently, they were also switching conversation topics as well. "Even you don't technically have clearance to be on Level 7. It's only me, Director Yandle, the head of the Department of Mysteries, and four Unspeakables."

Calleo gave the Minister a pat on the cheek as he passed him, "For both legal and personal accountability reasons, I'm going to remind you to not touch anything, don't look at anything either--you could lose your eyes if you look at the wrong book here, there are about fifteen that have that type of warding built into them--whatever you think you hear, see, smell, or feel, ignore it, it's just the residuals that magic leaves in its wake. All magic does it, it's just easier to feel the Dark sort as it enjoys making itself known."

"They all know me on this level" Calleo had perked up again and occasionally paused what he was telling the Minister to greet a few of the more polite texts. "Nothing down here meets the full criteria for sentience, and it's sort of the Gerald principle; when magic is set up to speak it's usually also set up to be able to learn so it can give more lifelike answers and conversation as it ages. Trouble is, after a certain point, most will start looping as they hit capacity or, worse, people mistake a horcrux for elaborate charms work and end up in a bit of a state or dead over it."

They had passed a narrow, dark corridor that, if one squinted, had a door at the end of it, likely because Calleo's attention was more on the work he loved despite nearly anyone else being of the opinion that it should be destroyed and forgotten.

"This one at the end, though, Æterna Discruciare, there are two copies of it that exist that aren't reprints; the other is in a private collection, and if you don't think I've been trying to get my hands on it for years you'd be wrong--and not to archive it, to keep it. I'll get it eventually, I always do in the end."

The book at the end of the hallway did not--leave a pleasant feeling in the air. The closer one got to it, the colder and heavier the atmosphere became. For all appearances it looked as though Calleo simply laid a hand on its questionably sourced leather cover, ignoring wispy tendrils of black tinged red that coiled themselves around his fingers, hand and wrist, "I've had the necessary permits done  to keep it if I can get it--the private collection one, of course, this one is Ministry property, aren't you?"

Apparently, it was all right for Calleo to talk to the books. The book itself shifted in a manner that looked somehow unpleasant, as though it were trying to disappear from where it had been chained--both magically and with the standard type of chains that were reinforced with magic--down and shut.

"You're not dangerous in the right hands," his fingers carefully traced through the ornate gilt on the cover and spine; whatever the book had wound around Calleo's fingers, hand and wrist moved with him becoming slowly less red and more shadowy, eventually it balled itself up and left the book entirely to sit wound around Calleo's left hand and arm. The chains now politely released and moved out of the way, and Calleo simply picked the book up, turning back to face the Minister.

"See how easy that was?" His smile had an affectionate edge to it, though it seemed to be aimed at the book he was now holding. "They're only dangerous if you haven't been taught how to handle them they way they like to be handled or if you're not respectful of what they're capable of."

"Æterna Discruciare is one of my favourites, you know. A good lot of modern theory foundation where the Dark Arts are concerned can be traced back either this or Maledictum Coerceri." Carefully, he opened the cover of Æterna Discruciare, but when one of the pages he touched actively tried to pull itself away, Calleo simply closed the cover again.

"Not in the mood I guess." He chuckled, "I'd show you where Maledictum Coerceri is kept but I don't want to deal with Greg today. Greg is nice for getting the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to get hauls from raids down so we can process them. His name is--" Calleo waved his hand and the terrible, unpronounceable name appeared in the air: "Gqnjcvwryzmpxng".

"Says the human tongue is too large and not forked enough to say it correctly, tough I can do it if I just transfigure my own into something more--summonable Imp looking. Gives me an awful lisp though, and he did say I could just call him Greg."

Calleo, by this point, had likely clearly forgotten that most other people found the work he did horrifying at best or completely incomprehensible but still wrong at worst. At least he remembered the Minister was still there.

"Being down here is like recharging a battery, you know--part of why it's so addictive," absently, he moved his fingers to move with whatever magic it was he'd peeled from the book. "It's nice though, the burn and the rush that comes after it. She's being polite today," he nodded to both the book he was holding and the magic wound around my hand, "not even touching my hand. Always quiet and cooperative when I'm working with her, you know; positively vicious to most other people."

He leaned down to almost affectionately touch his nose to the book's cover. Evidently numerous past statements Calleo had made about usually being the first to rub his face all over something cursed weren't too far from the truth.

"You're perfectly lovely, as long as whoever's got their hands on you knows what they're doing, aren't you?" The book's pages fluttered in response, "Not here for studying at the moment, though I'm taking you with me when we go back to the main level."

That must have been some kind of cue as the magic wound around Calleo's hand and wrist unwound itself and spread back over the covers and spine of the book itself; once laid back on its section, the chains and wards designed to forcibly keep it there reignited.

"She's my favourite," Calleo grinned at the Minister, "Anyway, we passed the hallway to the weird studio flat, it's that narrow dark one that looks like it leads to either a void or a door depending on the angle. Nothing down here appreciates Lumos or bright lights in general, if you hadn't noticed. It's why the lights are kept low in my office as well."

"What I like about this bizarrely located flat is that it'll wall off the corridor if people are in there and to anyone who doesn't know where it is it just looks like a blank section of wall." The sound of stone locking into place seemed to confirm that, even if it wasn't readily visible.

Inside the door, the flat itself was--normal.

Just a normal studio flat. Unlike everything else on the way own here this room, apart from a decent set of locks on the door, was perfectly, utterly normal.

Small kitchen, small bathroom, one entire other room that had a bed behind a floor standing screen and a sofa, two matching chairs, and an old wood, coffee mug ring stained table between them.

"Still nicer than that flat I lived in in Knockturn for awhile in 1979. Could probably take a holiday here and nobody would notice!"

Calleo almost immediately draped himself across one of the chairs, "Pavidus is the easiest one to deal with, so that's an expectation here; you keep her off my back--and I don't care how you do it, a strongly worded memo about wasting Ministry resources, or sack her, it doesn't matter to me either way, as long as she stops making my life annoying." Another grin.

"I don't expect you'll gain much ground with the Werewolves at this point in time, but just putting the idea there and stopping the department from putting more restrictions on them--that's where I'd think you'd want to focus."

"And for the 'desk ornaments'," that shrug didn't look much like one considering he'd draped himself across a faded, old leather recliner, "if you can't sidestep the Wizengamot, look the other way and let me let them go."

Now, he grinned, upside down, much like he did back in the Minister's office weeks ago, "Keep me content, don't go off half cocked on those three things---you're a politician, you know how it works and you know how to get around absurd objections--and you'll have your regular company."

"Or, in a shorter turn of phrase: Keep me happy and I'll keep you company. Shouldn’t be difficult; I’m extraordinarily low maintenance."

"As long as it's not physically impossible, I can probably do it and, honestly, probably already have at some point in my life; same rules I have for a duel for the most part: Nothing lethal within twelve hours of a hit, nothing permanently disfiguring, nothing permanently debilitating, anything else dittany will usually take care of it."

"That sounds indecisive, I know," he snickered at himself, "but it's really not, it's more that between five different partners being pretty versatile is necessary and when it's someone new I have no idea what they're into or what they're comfortable doing so I just--adjust as we go."

"So, how do you want to do this? Anything specific in mind? I can adjust what I'm doing, my attitude--so to speak--and I can almost guarantee that nothing you suggest will approach anything I'd consider strange or off putting." He stretched like a horrible ginger cat, "I can follow your lead unless you think you'll freeze in place, you can follow my lead, Or, if you had something specific in mind I doubt I'd have difficulty picking up on it."

That--all may have giving the distinct impression that Calleo was not exaggerating in the slightest when he told Cornelius earlier in the day that he knew damn well what the implications of quid pro quo were, and was well versed in navigating those waters.

That was the answer the Minister needed - it was easier to deal with than some other treatments provided at St Mungo’s and if it meant that Werewolves were more likely to be on his side, and not eat him should they wish to … then it had to be worth it. And Calleo was playing to his ego now - about his administration’s legacy, he allowed himself to daydream a little bit. He could be a hero. Or, it could all be a disaster. 

This must have been a reason why the Ministry couldn’t sack Calleo; he seemed to know an awful lot about how to get around things, how to deal with dark magic and it was certainly impressive. Fudge felt more and more like he was just winging it the more time he spent around Calleo. 

“I’m going to guess you were in Ravenclaw at Hogwarts?” The comment came out of nowhere, but it had to be said. The intelligence, the wit: it just made sense. 

The comment about Umbridge made Fudge roll his eyes. Of course, she had tried to get involved with something that wasn’t anything to do with her. Afterwards, she’d tell Cornelius that she was doing it for him, so she could make sure he knew everything that was going on in the Ministry, but as Calleo told him he needed to stay close and people had died down here, Cornelius was beginning to realise there were things about the Ministry he’d rather not know about. Like the Brain Room.

“Well considering what you’ve told me about people dying down here, I think I’ve more cause to worry now.”

Fudge tried to stay as close to Calleo as possible. He wanted to reach out and grab hold of the other wizard so he didn’t lose him. This wasn’t the start he’d expected. The comment about his age made him laugh lightly. That was strange. Cornelius couldn’t remember the last time he’d genuinely laughed. 

“Yes, I know who he is. I just hadn’t expected the comment about him.” He paused, raising an eyebrow at Calleo as he gestured for the Minister to go in front. “This isn’t a trick to push me into something and then have me die, is it?”

It was a joke, mostly, but he hoped it wasn’t going to happen. Calleo had talked a lot about Cornelius dying. That wasn’t sexy at all; it was actually quite frightening. The whole place just sounded like he shouldn’t be down here at all. It sounded like no one should be down here. Fudge looked over his shoulder at Calleo, clear concern on his face now. Yikes. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes and held tightly onto the material inside so he didn’t get tempted to touch anything. 

Of course, being told not to do something made it difficult to resist, especially as things seemed to be talking to him, and it was all so tempting to look at things. He was curious. Thankfully, Calleo was talking continuously and Fudge did his best to focus on that instead as they walked through the corridors. 

“Why does this place exist?” He couldn’t help but muse out loud. This whole place was terrifying. Fudge wished they’d just gone to his office now. Dark magic, blood magic … things biting, having to feed chickens to books. It was all bizarre. “I’ve never heard of half of this stuff. Do we have to go to Level 6?” Fudge didn’t like the idea of something trying to take over his mind, kill him, and take his body too. He got the lonely part, though. 

“I never learnt either,” he admitted, when the subject changed to Occlumency and Legilimency. There was a lot Fudge hadn’t learnt, it seemed. Fudge’s walking came to a halt when Calleo mentioned there were people that were paperweights listening to their conversation.

“So now there’s you, the Director, and six more people that know?!” His voice got a little too high pitched for his liking. Fudge ended up being turned around by Calleo and he could only manage to blink in response to what he heard. There was a lot, it seemed, that Cornelius didn’t pay attention to. “Can’t you just… smash the thing?” He asked. He hadn’t been to the Wizengamot when Calleo was there. Perhaps he’d make a trip next time, just to hear him out. “You forget, though, that it’s not just up to me to make laws change. It takes time, debates…” He wasn’t sure that was enough to stop Calleo talking about the issue. Was that another thing that formed part of their deal?

The pat on the cheek was unexpected, and he flushed a little again. When was the last time someone had so casually touched him like that? He wanted more of it, even if he was a little put off right now given their surroundings. 

Fudge watched with curiosity and a little horror as Calleo talked to the books and touched them. What if something happened to him and it felt Cornelius down here all by himself? How was he going to get out? 

“This isn’t what I expected to come across, given what I thought we were coming down here to do.” Yes, Cornelius was actually horrified at what Calleo was doing. He couldn’t do this job; he could only just about do his own. “Can we… keep going?” He finally asked. 

And then they reached the flat and Cornelius felt himself relax so much more. This was more like it: normality.

He took his hands out of his pockets and flexed his fingers to prevent any cramp he’d gotten from holding on too tightly to the insides of his pockets.

“I’ll deal with her.” Fudge nodded. That was easy. The other two would take some more time, but he’d do his best. He watched Calleo with curiosity around the way he sat and couldn’t stop the small smile that came to his lips. Cornelius felt a lot more at ease down here, just the two of them, than he did when he was in Calleo’s office. 

Cornelius moved from the door to the couch and sat down next to Calleo. He figured he might as well be honest about a few things first. The other wizard had talked about how many partners he had - five in total - and that was four more than Fudge had ever been with. It was pathetic, really. 

“I’ve a confession to make,” he started. It was strange, how trusting he suddenly felt of Calleo. “I’ve, um, only ever been with one person. And– h– he… he hurt me quite a bit.” Getting that he out was hard, but he finally managed it. “It was a while ago, years actually, but with nobody to really talk to about what happened I suppose I might not have fully gotten over it.”

He looked down at where Calleo was lying. “And he was the one leading so I think I’d prefer right now if you’d do that. Once I’m comfortable, I suppose we could change it up to make it interesting.’ He fidgeted a little on the couch, trying to relax a little more. This was fine, everything was fine.

“I’m not a bad person, you know.” He added. “At least, I don’t think I am. I don’t try to be a bad person. Being Minister is a difficult job, there are a lot of tough decisions to make and people to keep happy and… it’s lonely. You’re obviously very comfortable with yourself – who you are, your interests in people – my father was a Muggle and considering the time I grew up in he was very vocal about his feeling towards men who like other men and that, I suppose, is still instilled in me even though he’s no longer around.”

It was quite nice, actually, to have somebody to talk to about all this. He felt like his guard was coming down, and he was relaxing, opening up, showing his real personality. “Take the reigns, would you? Show me how you’ve managed to get five partners at once.”

Surprisingly, Calleo was able to completely interrupt his excited explanations of the different areas of the archives to, somehow without breaking the train of thought or cadence of what he was saying, answer the Minister's questions.

"Mm, I was; good lot of my friends were in Slytherin. Director's from Hufflepuff. The other three Archivists I pulled from Durmstrang after a string of completely unqualified or otherwise unpleasant people from the UK applied."

Between explanations of what amounted to 'Keep your arms and legs inside the car at all times' of various, winding corridors, he continued to explain that, "Let the Director hire a friend and all that guy wanted to do was posture and try to fight me because he had some sort of problem reporting to someone 30 years younger, and I ended up telling him he could either resign or I could kick him out myself, as he was my direct report. Idiot resigned."

"Trouble is, there aren't many qualified people here because Hogwarts isn't allowed to teach even Defence in a way that's useful. That, and there’s something wrong with that position, it’s not normal to have to replace a professor every single year; if it’s not a curse, it’s at least a jinx." Another shrug.

As it was, he chose to not acknowledge the common things anyone in the department heard from people whose knowledge of the Dark Arts consisted mainly of: Bad. Icky. No. Burn it. It was nothing he hadn't heard before anyway and, as it was part of the Department of Mysteries, there wasn't much he had to be concerned about the Minister doing anyway. He could try, certainly, but whether or not there would be compliance was an entirely different matter. Explanations and insistence that none of it was nearly as dangerous as the paranoia drummed into the heads of most of the Wizarding world had led them to believe if one simply learned or was taught to handle it safely often fell on deaf ears.

"I can't just smash them, that would only keep them alive but also now in a bunch of tiny pieces I'd have to keep track of, it'd be like you telling me you had a headache and I decided the best way to fix that would be to shatter your kneecaps; they need to be properly killed. The sort that severs your spirit's connection from your physical body, and that is generally illegal."

"I'm not asking you to change the law anyway, I'm asking you to either bypass it with a very specific order or simply look the other way. Half the Wizengamot can't even figure out how marked card decks and disappearing-without-magic-pens work, I wouldn't expect most of them to understand any sort of nuance anyway."

Passively, Calleo watched the Minister mostly calm down at being out of view of the lower level of the Archives. All things considered, his own relaxed posture and lack of even looking remotely on edge might have given the indication that he'd fully decided that Cornelius Fudge was absolutely no threat to him in any possible way. And Calleo only ever came down to this room to work uninterrupted during the day, so he was more than used to both the walk down and the room itself, "You know there are two back stairways out of the Ministry down here, yeah? Doesn't do you much good to come in that way unless you've got keys to the rest of the Archives though or you'd just be stuck on Level 7, which is where we are now. Lets us leave when the lift breaks, though."

His ears perked up at the word 'confession', confessions were typically interesting little bits of gossip, after all. This one, to Calleo at least, was more of a typical conversation topic than a confession; he often did forget that most people weren't open books about various aspects of their personal lives (and that those same people likely often wished he wasn't either).

"Tried to kill you, hm?" Calleo also seemed to have completely forgotten that when most people made a comment like that, all they meant is that they were treated badly or it ended badly and 'badly' for most people didn't mean 'attempted murder'. Most other peoples' normal was significantly more normal than that. "Had three in a row try that on me; fourth one turned some Muggle into a spider in my living room then smashed the guy with a shoe--so he's in Azkaban and I'm still amazed I didn't get a ghost out of it. Wood's still stained on that table, though."

"Knife," Calleo pulled his hair back from the left side of his neck and turned slightly, "though the one she left isn't really visible over the newer one that's there." There was a distinct 'center' to what was there, and while it went in a curved, thin line from just behind his left ear and disappearing under the collar of his shirt, around it--and from the look of it, around his entire neck like a piece of permanent jewelry--was more scarring that looked purposely done in repeating patterns that looked like stylised leaves. That, he didn't elaborate on.

"The second one just showed up and would have probably hit me with the killing curse hello had I been in bed but, as impossibly good luck would have it, I'd fallen asleep on the sofa; still don't sleep in that room, and we actually get along fine now. Still can't pronounce his name correctly but that IS a step up from having been in a relationship for 8 months and not knowing it." Calleo blinked a couple of times, seemingly realising that made him sound like a bit of a dick. "It's not--I don't speak Polish, and he didn't speak any English, and we didn't talk all that much due to that."

"Third one, I just got tired of it as it was mostly a lot of amazingly violent fighting so after I told her it was over, she sent me a box of cursed jewelry and a twenty-six minute long Howler that opened with 'Why aren't you dead yet?'" Calleo laughed, "That's how she greets me now! Married someone in records, has four kids under six, I don't know when she finds time to sleep. Still has keys to my house and usually drops by to borrow books now an again. Linda is a lovely woman who is currently living my personal version of Hell so it's probably a good thing that one didn't work out."

"Found out a few years after the fourth one that the first one had taken 'nobody can have you if I can't' literally and had done a little work with blood magic," he shrugged again, "Only part of that that really bothered me was she caused someone to land in Azkaban and could have ended up getting two other people killed. When it was removed, it was reworked and sent back to her which I didn't realise until she turned up at my house again to demand I leave with her then--just couldn't use magic at all when she tried!"

"What'd yours do?" Surprisingly, Calleo did wait for an answer before he kept talking. If nothing else, the fact that Calleo's mind jumped straight to attempted murder and completely skipped over more mundane reasons for a relationship ending on bad terms was telling.

Calleo managed, with some difficulty, to not roll his eyes when the Minister went off on the, 'I'm not a bad person' bit; it wasn't the first time he'd heard that in general, especially when dealing with someone who worked in government. A good lot of them had their personal and political lives so tangled that, for many, it looked inseparable.

"Don't confuse your job with you; any issues I have are with the policies you're backing and the problems at the Ministry that are being ignored for one reason or another that can probably all be traced back to the Malfoy family's Gringott's account." He canted his head, likely trying to figure out exactly how old the Minister was; he hadn't denied being under 80 earlier but he was also mostly busy being horrified by the worst possible basement library out there.

"I'm sure you're terribly surprised to learn that I collect antique books," Odd start to a response after being told about someone's generally unpleasant sounding father, "but, in particular, I collect antique Muggle medical and 'social etiquette' books from the mid-19th century to about 1918 or so and there's one that always stuck out. Most of them have the same nonsense on that topic, but one had this entire section suggesting that, should you ever be stuck in the same room with another man and couldn't avoid sleeping to essentially keep a cast iron pan with you to crack his skull if you even thought he was looking at you sideways."

"That's an impressive level of paranoia right there. Just go sleep outside if you're that worried about it--that particular hypothetical took place on a moving train but, my suggestion is still the same: Go sleep outside."

"On the other hand, that same author had an entire chapter devoted to telling women if they laugh too much they'll end up having whatever the face of a giggler is and everyone will think they're ugly, so he might have just been a bit like your father: full of objectively bad opinions with no basis in reality or fact in general."

"So," now his head tilted the other way, "since I'm not about to pop upstairs to Records and find out, how old are you, exactly? Just a matter of idle curiosity and I know better than to guess ages since Director Yandle had me guess his for a laugh. Even taking into account that he's had a job at the Ministry since 1927, I was off by a few decades."

For a far too long moment, Calleo just sort of stared at the last thing the Minister had said to him, almost as though it didn't register at first what he had asked.

"That's less of a show and more of a tell, mate! They're all wildly different in that regard. Two I've known since school and one of those two I've had a relationship with since Fifth year; when he met his now wife he told her that he was part of a package deal and her reaction ran along the lines of 'hell yeah, a two-for-one!'. Exactly what it is, too! They've been married for awhile now and we're still a trio."

"Other one prefers keeping their private life private, so it's kept private. Viciously good with curse work though!" That probably wasn't something he should have flashed a grin over; it almost seemed involuntary.

"Then there's Hebridean Black! That's--not actually his name, it's just the code name he figured out he was given sometime around 1915 since he was good at keeping who he was completely hidden and the main reason he occasionally pops up in a history book or two is because of the level of," Calleo paused for a moment, "I don't even like to call it aggression; I don't necessarily believe those dragons are aggressive either, just--sort of defensively aggressive, and if you're not bothering or threatening them, it's not an issue."

"Known him all my life, still don't know his name. Not sure anyone does, but I have seen his face. In fairness, so have a lot of other people, though they don't tend to know who he is; learned a lot of my scorched earth level offensive dueling techniques from him. When he's not working, as it were, he's very quiet and soft," He stopped again and looked around the room for a good, solid minute, "And, since I haven't received a portkey-letter that's mostly on fire, I'll assume that amount of information was acceptable to bring up. Not going to push my luck on that one though!"

"And then,for reasons of plausible deniability for yourself as I certainly don't need it due to being anything but quiet about it, there's Percival Graves." Mercifully, Calleo wasn't the type to actually use air quotes but the heavy emphasis on that false name more than made up for it.

"Known him since 1987 and before you ask, it's definitely not illegal; I read over the entire sentencing document several times and ran it by one of my Goblin business partners to make sure any loopholes in it were beneficial loopholes and not loopholes that were going to get me arrested. Not entirely certain that keeping the wolpertinger is strictly legal but, what are they going to do to him? Put him in--double-prison? Move him to a nicer one with better lighting?"

“We’ve ended up extremely close on several levels, which was unexpected, but it’s nice; he’s incredibly affectionate and tactile which works out well as I’ll typically either wind myself around other people if they let me and vice versa; just in case you might have been wondering if it was necessary for you to sit halfway across the room from me.”

"Five at once sounds more like something he'd have been getting up to though, probably more than that, I've been told most of that propaganda had a strong basis in reality!"

"Turns out we know a lot of the same people, though he's at least been kind enough not to mention if any of it would have been something one of my relatives was into." Whenever Calleo should explain something further, it seemed as though he simply didn't; at least he was kind enough to counter it by letting his train of thought wander off the rails for completely mundane reasons.

"I don't know that I did much of anything to get all five of them apart from them somehow not finding my personality incredibly grating. Okay, to be entirely fair, one was--well, still is--a literal captive audience but still...and he definitely finds my personality grating at times, especially if I call him a captive audience or ask if he saw something coming, but I don't fit through the cell window so he can't exactly make good on those 'will throw you out the window' threats anyway!"

“He really is lovely though, despite the litany of war crimes; isolation and being forcibly denied the ability to use magic--he’s not the same person he was, that’s evident by simply talking to him. I wouldn’t drop him for anything; I wouldn’t drop any of them for anything.”

The affectionate laugh that followed that statement faded into a half smile and Calleo shook his head slightly, "You don't want to see any of that though; a good lot of it would very likely make you want to take your chances with the books on the other side of the door."

"Hell, a good lot of it is from the books on the other side of the door, and the rest of it?" Whether Calleo shrugged or the motion was simply from him pushing himself into a more upright position wasn't exactly clear, "The rest of it's for other people. There's always some overlap when it comes to things I'm all right having done to me because I'm a consistent factor there. Where other people are concerned, I've still never met two who are similar enough that I could even begin to simply do the exact same thing."

"If I do, all that's going to leave you with is the distinct, unshakable feeling that my mind had to be elsewhere and if you thought you were a strung out, cornered wreck before walking through three levels of books with terrible manners, it'll be worse when that hits."

"I wouldn't intentionally do that to anyone; it's cruel and despite the type of magic with which I work, despite the calibre of people it puts me in close contact and close working relationships with," Calleo, for a fleeting moment, just looked tired, "despite the majority of the magic itself being what causes those who use it to become what they become, despite the fact that I spent years that I still don't clearly remember in those positions and mindsets, despite all of it--the department, the published works, the vicious public stigma of working with the Dark Arts, I'm--just not that sort of person."

"And I know what that isolation feels like; the way it cuts through everything, and leaves you in the impossible position of wanting to break it and not wanting to risk breaking it breaking yourself in the process. I'm not going to contribute to it because I know it."

Calleo was relatively certain that the Minister would likely take all of that as an overly long rejection so, out of caution, immediately moved on from the topic. That sharp-edged but somehow not unfriendly grin returned and he leaned back just a bit, motioning for the Minister to come a bit closer, "What I can show you is both how to make that father of yours spin in his grave even on the off chance that he's not been dead for a few decades, and make you forget about work for awhile."

"Sound good?"

At least there was a way out of this place; that put Fudge at ease a little bit. He was about to protest that no, his ex hadn’t tried to murder him but Calleo continued and instead, Cornelius listened in almost horror about the terrible encounters Calleo had had. How was it possible that this man had been with so many people? Fudge supposed it was to do with his downright confidence. Calleo didn’t seem to care what anybody thought of him, and Cornelius was a little envious about that.

“Merlin, Calleo!” He exclaimed when he was shown the scar, his eyes wider and lips parted. It sounded like the other wizard had dated some terrible people, considering one was in Azkaban now. Fudge hated that place; it always left him feeling a little worse for wear and it took time to get over just how depressed he felt after a visit. He couldn’t imagine living there permanently. 

“She has a point,” Fudge teased - Fudge actually teased! - with a small laugh. “Although I guess my question is how aren’t you dead yet, not why, considering what you’re telling me right now.”

“It’s difficult to not confuse the two. I’ve basically become my job these past few years. Before I was Minister, it was a lot easier to separate them but even then I was always the first person in the office in the morning and the last to leave at night. Sometimes I didn’t leave at all. I rarely go home, even now, and that’s only to get a spare change of clothes so it doesn’t look like I’ve slept in mine. There’s not much point in going home when you’ve not got anybody to go home to.”

Cornelius didn’t realise how truly pathetic that sounded until he’d said it, and he hoped that Calleo wouldn’t judge him too much but he was feeling a little better from opening up more. Fudge couldn’t recall if he’d ever told that to anybody before. He essentially lived in his office.

"And Al–… my, I suppose we’ll call him my ex, he didn’t physically hurt me although I’m surprised he didn’t try to, or hasn’t tried to considering how I behave around him now. It was more of a – you’re too concerned for how people perceive you, type thing. A ‘people have too much power over you because you let them’ thing – which I can’t even deny because look at the two of us.” Fudge pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. If Calleo could be so open about who he was sleeping with (at least with telling him who some of the people were), he supposed he could share his own. “Imagine what the Prophet would say if they found out that Albus Dumbledore broke the Minister’s heart?”

“I’m 52.” Fudge continued, glad to be changing the subject. “So it’s good to know I’m not the oldest person you’ll have been with.” Considering Percival Graves was a lot older than that. “And the last time someone touched me other than when they shook my hand was…” He let out a breath. “I can’t even remember.”

Cornelius moved closer to Calleo when he’s beckoned, and couldn’t help but smile at the idea of making his Muggle father turn in his grave. Forgetting about work would be a nice change too. 

“Yeah that sounds good.” And since Calleo had motioned for him to come closer, Cornelius decided to close the final gap between them by nervously pressing his lips against the other’s. He let out a shaky breath through his nose and placed a hand on Calleo’s shoulder to steady himself and tried to focus on the kissing and not the way his stomach was in knots or how his heart was thumping far too hard in his chest he could feel it in his ears. 

“I hope that was okay,” he mumbled shyly once he’d pulled away, suddenly feeling like a schoolboy again and not like he actually ran an entire wizarding community. Calleo had experience under his belt.

“Oh, I like this one,” Calleo tapped his neck, “rest of it was done with a lit cigarette; couldn’t really turn my head for a few days and found I definitely prefer healing magical burns to traditional ones.” Again, he didn’t elaborate on something that probably warranted a lot more elaboration.

“Your guess on that one is as good as mine as to why I’m not dead; luck, skill, or both and I’m not sure how. It’s a slow week if someone doesn’t take a shot at me in my office at least two or three times by Friday. Technically allowed to use lethal force in those situations but lethal force comes with an almost lethal amount of paperwork, and injuring them only has marginally less paperwork involved.”

“They all have dreadful aim too; you don’t aim at someone’s head if you’re trying to hit them, you aim at whichever part of them is widest, which is usually the shoulder or chest area. It’s not hard to tell where someone is aiming and to just–tilt your head to the opposite side.”

The way he spoke made it seem almost as if he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary about any part of what he’d just said. It simply was what it was.

“You know that’s not a problem if all of your clothes look the same, right? Though I suppose it matters less for someone who’s only ever really seen by the same four people on a daily basis than it does for someone that has to deal with the public all day. I think,” Calleo absently scratched the side of his head, “after the last two quit, and it was just me and the Director, and you know damn well he didn’t do a single thing that would have counted as actual work–meetings, he did meetings and not much else–when I did leave, I took work with me.”

“We were–to say we were behind would be an understatement. When I started in 1983, I think the department had a backlog dating to the mid-1950s, by 1990 we were up to 1981, and between 1990 and 1991 managed to get mostly caught up; that was all processing, for the most part, things that had been dragged in by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Now that we’ve been fully staffed with competent people for a few years, we stay caught up unless Law Enforcement drags their feet on bringing things down.”

“If I wasn’t working here, I was working at home. Or while out. Never really an issue until sometime in autumn 1991; details there aren’t all that relevant but I did cut my own hours and stopped taking so much work home with me as it wasn’t even necessary to do that anymore. That took care of a lot of near chaos on the personal side of my life, if nothing else, which let me put the professional one back in order. Stability is much nicer and less dull than I remember it being.”

Not many things sounded so bizarrely outlandish that they could stun Calleo into silence for more than a split second. What the Minister had just said did exactly that, however. Truthfully, the initial, “HA! What?” reaction had itself swiftly and harshly tempered by the second thought that crossed his mind: The Ministry, as far as Calleo could recall, either had generally positive relations with Hogwarts and its Headmaster or simply no interest at all, allowing him to run the school as he saw fit.

Until 1990.

When the man sitting across from him was put into the position of Minister for Magic.

Anyone who’d been keeping up with the more unpleasant side of Wizarding politics immediately (and gleefully) noted the shift in tone that began almost the same day Fudge’s administration took full control. Calleo had largely written it off as some sort of bizarre paranoia, likely being fed to him by those in the Ministry who had worked for the Still Officially Dead Dark Lord, but now–he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was simply being done out of personal spite and little more.

That sort of behaviour would have been ill-advised (not to mention petty) just in a general sense, but with things the way they were now it was less ill-advised and more incredibly, recklessly dangerous; something that ran the very real risk of handing the entire Ministry over to, if not Voldemort, at least people highly sympathetic to Voldemort just to be spiteful toward an ex.

Perhaps that was an unfair line of thinking to have, even if the most simple explanations are the most likely. Certainly made it seem like the Ministry’s shift in attitude wasn’t out of nowhere, though and even the implication that it might be true raised a whole hell of a lot of red flags.

“I’d imagine,” Calleo began slowly and evenly, giving no indication either way what he personally thought and sticking to the most likely outcomes to the invitation to imagine what the Prophet would do, “the gossip columns would, after they’d pieced themselves back together after exploding from sheer excitement, have some of their most memorable pieces written for weeks on end and I’d imagine the rest of the Prophet would depend on whose money is going where. With the way it stands now, it’d likely be twisted to make Professor Dumbledore look maliciously predatory, unstable, and dangerous and now they’d have what they could plaster all over the pages as concrete proof that he should be removed from his position as Headmaster at Hogwarts and possibly jailed.”

“And you’d have people in your ear telling you exactly what to say to which reporter for making sure the effectiveness of it was maximised and targeted as narrowly and specifically as possible, because he’s what they feel is the last obstacle keeping them from moving freely.”

“He’s not wrong, though. I doubt there’s anyone in the Department of Mysteries that hasn’t either seen Lucius Malfoy with his face in your ear–or heard of it spoken in that sort of smug, arrogant way you’d expect from people who were convinced they were lining everything up for an easy shot. Even that Undersecretary seems to have you an a pretty short leash. It’s less that you care too much about what people think of you, it’s that you’ve decided to focus on caring what the wrong sorts of people think of you.”

Calleo raised an eyebrow, giving the Minister a shrewd, calculating look. “I don’t think you should be doing what it is I suspect you’re doing and am also acutely aware that it may be far too late to stop it. He isn’t dangerous, he isn’t insane, and you know that.”

“HA!” That look all but evaporated with his oddly bird-like laugh, “But, there you go, it’s almost impossible for me not to talk about work; really, all I need to keep an eye on is making sure I don’t get some bizarre thing tacked onto my reputation along the lines of ‘picks up things Professor Dumbledore drops’. That’ll just get pretty weird pretty fast unless he just starts leaving interesting books laying around which would be entirely acceptable.”

“And it was about fifteen minutes ago on level six; do you want me to give your mind a quick once over?” There was, before Calleo realised that it had been a rhetorical question, a note of genuine concern. Some of what was on those levels could very easily pick through someone’s mind if not stopped and would be capable of causing temporary short term memory problems, after all.

“You’re not being graded, you know, or compared to anyone else,” He had, for a change, remembered to make sure what he was saying matched his tone, his expression and his overall body language; occasionally he’d leave one of those things out and come off a bit hostile instead of playfully chiding. “There aren’t N.E.W.T.s at the end. That’d be odd even for me.”

“I did tell you that I’d make you forget about work for awhile and I still intend to do that; I cannot, however, forget about the entire previous conversation. Fortunately for you, one of my many useful talents includes redirecting energy from where I don’t want it to where I do so–keep up, you’re only 52! If you’re lucky, you’ll forget how English works for awhile.”

A lit cigarette? Cornelius thought he had it bad with what happened to him, but it seemed that Calleo’s past wasn’t all sunshine and roses either. Cornelius didn’t want to press on to ask what happened; Calleo was a chatty man, if he wanted to disclose why or how that happened to him, then he surely would.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he said on the matter. Sometimes Cornelius wondered why he wasn’t dead, either. There must be some people around that would like to see the Minister for Magic dead. That thought was a little horrific. “Well I’m glad you’re not dead.”

The words came out before he could stop it and they actually surprised him. When Cornelius first started bumping into Calleo (everywhere, it seemed), he couldn’t stand to be around him. But now here they were, and Fudge was actually opening up and being himself. It was all a little strange, and it was getting stranger when Calleo explained how hard he’d worked to get his department up to date.

Cornelius admired hard work.  When he was working on his campaign to become Minister, he’d work constantly to try and get people on his side. After that, there was a lot of cleaning up to do as it was the aftermath of the war. Now, Cornelius just found things to do to keep himself busy.

“I understand that.” He nodded. “Thank you, by the way, for putting so much effort into your job. I assume it probably goes unnoticed most of the time?”

The reaction he’d got from his confession made him flush – it was probably an unexpected name. “Yes, I know, I know it’s bizarre.” It certainly was considering what his relationship with Albus was like now; Cornelius could hardly stand to be in the same room as Albus Dumbledore. Everything Dumbledore did, he couldn’t stand and he knew that it was wrong to spend time deliberately trying to make his ex’s life miserable but it was only because Dumbledore had made his life miserable that he wanted to get back at him.

He nodded slowly, imagining it for himself. The ridicule he’d probably face from people, his peers, his colleagues… But Fudge did like the idea of Dumbledore being made out to be the bad guy in all of it. He still wasn’t going to tell anyone else.

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Fudge gave Calleo a look with a raised eyebrow. Was it that bad? Cornelius liked to be told how great he was doing which was why he surrounded himself with people like that. He had an ego that needed stroking sometimes. “They’re just… doing their jobs.”

Cornelius knew that Calleo wouldn’t fall for that; he was far too smart. He figured everything out without Fudge even saying anything. “Nobody knows about me and Albus and I’d appreciate if you didn’t say anything… and I know what you think I’m doing.” He paused. “I know he’s not dangerous but he’s… not always the great man everyone makes him out to be, either. What he did was completely uncalled for and came out of nowhere.”

Cornelius really wanted to forget how English worked for a while, he couldn’t stop talking. So when they started to get down to it, he was thankful. And he did forget how to speak; the entire time, Fudge had been reduced to just making noises and he was thankful that they were so far away from everybody else because he’d been anything but quiet.

Afterwards, he stayed where he was, lying on the couch and looking up at the ceiling unsure what to even say or do. Everything was so much better now. Cornelius was in disbelief and shock.

“Well…” he started, really not sure what else he could say. There were no words, just a dumb, big smile on his face now that he’d been relieved of the tension that had built up inside him for years. Every part of his body that hadn’t been touched had been touched, and if he was murdered now, he’d die happy. “That was… different.”

Now it was his turn to uphold his end of their deal, and his first point of call after finishing with Calleo would be to go and speak to the Auror that was wasting so much of the Ministry’s time. Fudge felt like he had a whole new lease of life now and he knew that people would be suspicious as to why, but he didn’t care