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flipping-the-coin · 9 months

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Ratchet what did orion do to make u hate him so much? Wernt you freinds b4 the war?

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡: ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔱

ℭ𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔩 ℑ𝔞𝔠𝔬𝔫 -

ℭ𝔶𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔞𝔫 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔩 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔰 -

𝔊𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔇𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 -

Orion did not do any one thing to make me despise him. It is a collection of all he has done and the consequences of those actions, regardless of whether they were intended or not. I... did not hate him before the war. We were friends, at least insomuch as fellow prisoners sharing the same cell can be. He made my life a living torment, but I did not blame him for it. Not in the beginning. He didn't know. I still don't think he knows.

It is not exactly public knowledge, but Alpha Trion had his digits in many more ventures than one might suspect. I don't know the full extent of it, but I do know for a fact that he had several other mecha higher up the ladder killed so that I could rise to the station of CMO. Even that promotion was more of a curse than a blessing. I could have made it to CMO on my own, but I rose far faster than I was prepared to handle... and all because Alpha Trion wanted to punish me for plotting. Everyone congratulated me when I was promoted. They all thought it meant my hard work was bearing fruit. Primus, they were all wrong.

I thought Alpha Trion was going to kill me when I attempted to get Orion away from him and failed. That foolish archivist... Orion didn't understand when I asked him to flee with me. He couldn't see that he was a puppet just like me. If he had just listened when I asked him to come with me, we could have vanished into the night and gotten away from Alpha Trion. Then we could have gone our separate ways if he wanted, but I was trying to be a good friend. I was trying to get us both out of the web Alpha Trion wove. By the Allspark, I tried so fragging hard.

When he didn't follow me, I knew I had to go back. I couldn't leave him there to suffer alone. We may not have gotten along all the time, but at least when we were together, we could think about other things aside from our absolutely slagged circumstances. So I came back to Iacon. I gave up on my plan to escape and came back. The Master Archivist must have known I would come crawling back. He didn't kill me, no, he forced a promotion on me and effectively ensured that I would be too overworked to think so deeply.

I wasn't always this cranky. No matter how strange it might sound, I used to party once upon a time. I was known for being somewhat wild in my youth. You can ask Soundwave. He will corroborate my story on that front.

That wildness died when Alpha Trion began to communicate directly with me. Up until I was promoted to the station of Head Doctor at the Trion Square clinic he had only pulled strings behind the scenes. But at that point, he started to reach out to me. At first I saw it as my work being noticed by a mech of high standing. I was excited at the prospect of possibly getting a sponsor to fund my research into cures for the plagues threatening the lower levels. I should have known better than to jump at the chance to accept Alpha Trion's sponsorship, but at the time I was desperate for funding and trusted Alpha Trion's reputation of a reasonable mech.

Fragging idiotic assumption.

That was the real start of it all. I had been caught in his web since the moment I stepped into Iacon, but it was only then that I found myself being tasked with things I first found insignificant. Studies into frame alternations on Alpha Trion's request. Additional scholarships to pay for my education in other fields of medicine. Research on the physiology of developing mecha. Not to mention the many various lectures and camps Alpha Trion paid for me to attend that were focused around studying the relics of old to see if they had medicinal use.

He paid for everything. He made it look like I was just a lucky mech chosen from amongst thousands for my talent. A reward program in a sense. But I learned. Primus below I learned. He was involved in many aspects of my life. I have my suspicions, but I believe he singled me out long before I began interacting with Orion. I can't tell you exactly why he chose me, but he did. He gave me my Iaconian citizenship through an anonymous sponsorship program that Jazz informed me of vorns later. He got me my position serving under Doctor Burnout, and he made... unfortunate things happen whenever I deviated from the role he set me in. For a long time I thought that I just had the worse luck on Cybertron when after looking too deeply into family registers I would find myself overwhelmed with work for deca-cycles at a time.

When I looked too closely, I was punished. When I stayed in my station and studied harder, I was rewarded. For many long vorns it was not made obvious aside from the occasional comms from Alpha Trion requesting specific research or offering me the chance to attend a new seminar. However at some point perhaps a few hundred vorns after the death of Sentinel Prime, Alpha Trion outright ordered me to come to the Archives and speak with his apprentice. He wanted me to be tutor of a sort and to educate Orion on matters of the frame. I suppose the old cogger wasn't exactly fond of the idea of teaching interfacing Ed on his own.

I spent a few deca-cycles doing that, and I came to tolerate Orion. We didn't really get along, but we could at least be around one another. But then it got worse. Alpha Trion pushed me to keep coming back to the Archives even when my work was done. When I attempted to decline for one reason or another, my schedule would miraculously clear to make time for my visits to see Orion. Whenever I pulled a sick day to be by myself, Alpha Trion caught the lie the moment it escaped my derma, and that's when things got... rough for me.

He outright threatened me. I remember it clearly. He came to my office and he towered over me as he laid out all he'd done for me. He gestured to all I had and he threatened to take it all away. At first I laughed, but when my apprentice at the time was found dead a few cycles later, I took Alpha Trion FAR more seriously. It wasn't an innocent sponsorship anymore. I was caught in his web and I couldn't escape even if I wanted to... not without losing everything. It only became more obvious from there, that with the fragger then ordering me to keep Orion in line. I was given strict orders to ensure he remained in perfect health and that his mental state remained stable. Orion was not to deviate from his current behavioral patterns, and the moment he did, I was to inform Alpha Trion without hesitation.

That's when I knew we were both pawns. I saw Orion in that moment and I knew that he was just like me. I still had no clue WHY Alpha Trion cared so much for him or even why Orion was kept the way he was. But I know that it was a few vorns into our forced friendship that I decided to try and take Orion and run. That plan failed, as I have already stated.

From that point onward, whenever Orion did something out of line, it was not him who was punished. It was me. Do you have any idea how terrified I was whenever Alpha Trion called? My tendency to smoke didn't emerge from nowhere after Optimus's death. I was stressed to the pits and back with work and the ever looming threat of death. I thought that by keeping Orion busy, I could save my plating. I thought that by giving him that blasted ticket to Kaon that he would get it out of his system and things could return to a status quo.

It didn't. Every time he talked about Kaon and how much fun he had there, I thought I was going to go to my hab and promptly be killed. Nowhere was safe. I only felt somewhat secure when I was with Jazz and Orion since I knew for a fact that Alpha Trion wouldn't kill me when I was with them. That would be detrimental to Orion's mental state, and since the fragger cared for Orion so much, he probably wouldn't do that to him. I spent every single cycle fearing for my life. It only got worse when nothing happened. Orion was good at hiding his activities. And every single spark merging injury I fixed in Orion only made me fear for my life more.

I couldn't help but snap at Orion from time to time. He didn't understand when I told him to be careful. How could he? He didn't know he was a puppet until he talked to Megatron. By then he didn't see how tied up I was. I was just his old friend Ratchet. His best friend always there to take care of him.

Slagger didn't see how much I was hurting to protect him.

I was putting my life on the line by not telling Alpha Trion. I had everything hanging by a thread while Orion was off fragging his gladiator lover. Do you understand where the bitterness stems from? I didn't blame Orion in the beginning, but with everything that happened during the war? That foolish archivist, he made it so much worse. I wish he remained docile and calm. I wish he still had reason in his processors. Maybe then... maybe then things would have been better.

It wasn't his fault we were both subject to Alpha Trion. But he made it SO much worse. Him hurting my beloved and dragging out our war was only fuel on the fire.

𝔓𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔩 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔡 - ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔱

#maccadam #transformers prime au #transformers #two sides to a coin au #transformers prime #orion pax #megaop #ratchet #ratchet responds #pre war cybertron

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honestlyvan · 2 years

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(Reposted from DW)

So I try not to make these rambles too powered by salt but considering Impactor is very near my favourite character in the franchise and as a result I read a lot of badfic featuring him out of sheer desperation for something, I'm seriously devastated by the way I've never seen it explored just what a harrowing and accurate description of moral injury and reflexive self-loathing he is.

Like, it's wild to me that we have it in the text, actually on page, that Impactor outright thinks he's a monster. We see it on page! It is written with plain words! He's stuck thinking like "can't survive if the other guy doesn't die", "your life is bought with the blood you spill, and you want to keep living so you best learn to like killing" to the point where he doesn't even want to live anymore and yet he can't stop, he's stuck, there's no safety for him to retreat back to because nobody taught him to value himself in any other way except in balance against someone else.

Like we know. Exactly what Impactor considers horrible, what he considers ugly and unseemly and corrupt. And it's all stuff that makes sense. It's all stuff the most of us probably find a little bit horrifying. We know that his perception of the world is so utterly bleak that there is no way but down, the only trajectory he sees for himself is to slip further and further from that surface because this is just his life now, this is what he is now, this may be what he always was, so isolated in his self-loathing that he can barely see the surface of where the horrible things end, and sure as hell doesn't think he can reach it. He's been cut off from his access to the sublime, to the fortifying, to the beautiful and wonderful and safe, this is all he has left, this is just what he is now.

I think the massive overriding misreading is assuming Impactor has any regard for himself. He may have the ability to act confident and move through the world with intellectual assurance over his own skill, and it's easy to take that as a sign that he has some kind of a core, undivided wholeness of personhood that lets him keep acting like he knows what he's doing. But I don't think that's it at all. His sense of self has been so completely fractured and damaged by the horrors he's committed and been isolated with that they've attached themselves to the space where his sense of self would otherwise be. Again, I'm not even extrapolating -- this just is the text of "Escape".

And then there's the negative influence of Guzzle, another person who thinks the way to deal with your trauma is by committing massive violence on it who has no idea this should maybe be something to discuss with people -- like, we see the way his abandon and reveling in having power and returning the violence drags Impactor down, too, because it's familiar, it makes sense, and then Impactor locks him in a box and goes "I can't fucking do this anymore". It's literally the most unsubtle death wish, it's a textbook flight arrest response, he doesn't want to keep doing the thing he's doing but he doesn't know what else there is, he sees no way out other than down.

And IDK I don't want to cast blame, honestly as a recovering abusive asshole myself, the terrible things he does to other people out of a sense of "this is how it has to be, don't be naive, don't be stupid", the loop of self-justification and grasping for value in his identity as an anonymous source of violence and ruiner of lives is a big part of why I love him so much, and his victims are really visible in the text, their mess deserves exploration and their pain deserves narrative validation, if only for completeness' sake

but like goddamn I just feel for this trash mech so much. He was left locked up with only his own bad thoughts for company, forced in a situation where becoming a worse person was the only way to escape further pain to the point where he's just completely cut off from his access to the sublime, to the fortifying, to the beautiful and wonderful and safe. Like where is there to go when the only things you know what to do are all fucked up? What do you do when all you've been "taught" is that living means killing, but you're getting extremely sick of the killing, when you're tired of your whole life being stained in blood and gore and the traces of the grotesquerie that is living with the knowledge that having power over other people is the ultimate act of survival when you never wanted that?

#Transformers IDW'05 #Maccadam #Sins of the Wreckers #hello have you met my husband #Honestly much of Sinscourse is lost to me because it treats Impactor as having no internality #and like I get why most Sinscourse is about Prowl and Springer #and Springer is absolutely the victim of Impactor's lack of self-esteem #he's a towering bloody monument to all the good he's done and all the bad he's done #but IDK just. Impactor treats himself with such disgust and disregard #and I'd argue most of people's attitudes towards the Wreckers are well-informed by JUST THE SHEER LEVEL OF DISGUST Impactor displays #towards himself and his own #It's very satisfying in a 'claw your own brain bloody' OCD kind of way #to see just how much Impactor despises and still defends the legacy of the Wreckers #There's so much to pull out of his conversations with Roadbuster especially #Maybe this is just me being friends with Stunticon Likers #and realising that a lot of times when people write Impactor #they're actually writing Motormaster with a different paint job #but that may be just me seeing patterns where there are none

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warriorsparked · 1 year

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🌟+ starscream (can be mine specifically or like star in general up to u)

SEND A 🌟 + A NAME AND MY MUSE WILL TALK ABOUT THEIR BOND TO THAT CHARACTER!

There were mixed feelings when he thought of Starscream. The mech had always had potential, and there had been a reason why he'd chosen the Seeker to be his second-in-command. Many vorns between them meant many problems, though, and growing detest that had been shared between the two of them. But where exactly had that gone wrong? Megatron couldn't say...

The old warlord's expression fell. "Starscream and I have a long and extensive history. One that has been complicated. It has had its many ups and it has had its... many, many downs," he murmured. "But Starscream had once been a good Decepticon, and an even better Air Commander. He had deserved respect, and like any leader, he had cared for his people, both Decepticon and those that were flight frames alike. I would not say his past has not had its horrors either.

"Somewhere along the way, he wanted more. He became greedy and narcissistic. He became envious of what I had. I do not blame him entirely... The power of leadership can be intoxicating at its best, and... corruptive at its worst. Starscream was not its only victim, after all.

"I have always believed in Starscream's potential, even now, but whether or not he can rise above his own desires for the needs of the people is questionable. I was not kind to him. He was a reminder of why I needed to remain in control, but not even Starscream could have foreseen what would become of us all by the end of the war.

"If I can have a shot at redemption, then who am I to say that he cannot? Of course... the vorns of attempting to have me killed will not be forgotten with ease. I've known him for too long to believe the facade he puts up. I have seen him at his finest and at his lowest. So long beside someone, you get to know their behaviours, their thoughts, behind the masks they wear. I have been to the brink of madness and back. I know what stares at me in the mirror. And I see so much of myself in his once youthful face. Perhaps that is the real reason why I did not kill him. Perhaps it is my true wish to see him finally succeed in proving himself worthy."

Megatron laughed. "Or perhaps I'm more mad than I realise. Only time will tell."

#IC asks

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kittydemon9000 · 3 years

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The Beginning of Heatstroke, aka Red's Villain Origin

* crashes down from the ceiling * I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED ONE OF MY 5+ CURRENT WRITING PROJECTS! BEHOLD, A WRITTEN VERSION OF THE 'Red's Villain Origin AU', also known as RVO / Heatstroke AU

To summarize the AU for SPBNR for those that don't now it:

“Who'd be the biggest conspiracy theorist out of the M!Ninja? The one who drinks 5 hour energy at 3am and spits off the craziest theories and then actually gets it right but nobody gives the theory any merit because the rest of the theories are too crazy?”

The answer: Red / M!Kai

Red: Okay hear me out: Smith is actually an alternative version of one of us sent here from another dimension.

The other M!Ninja: You’re just saying that because Smith’s cool and you want him to be your counterpart

Based on the M!ninja making red cork boards trying to figure out ‘What Is Up With Smith’: Red gets increasingly accurate and nobody will believe him (all pre shogun reveal) and he eventually snaps and takes up a secret villain persona to fight Shogun like 'if they won't believe me I'll do it myself' and it gets awkward when he accidentally does too much damage and catches not only Shogun's attention like planned, but also the rest of the Ninjaforce, and now he has to keep his own identity a secret

So, without further ado, I present... Heatstroke

------------

Red blamed the 5-hour energy coffee blend at 3:00am for this.

It was no surprise that between ‘Operation: What’s Going on with Smith’ & the sudden appearance of Shogun that the resident Bounty red-stringed ‘joke’ cork-board doubled in size and seriousness. It also was no surprise that Red had a corner all to himself and that his theories were… in the words of the others, ‘wildly inaccurate and implausible’.

But this time, he was sure he’d gotten it right.

Smith is Shogun sent here from another continent/planet/dimension with the goal of protecting Ninjago City.

The latest string of laughs and scoffs at his theory was the last straw. He’d show them. He’d prove it!

Which was why he was currently standing on the roof of a noodle house, awkwardly adjusting the spare motorcycle helmet he’d ‘borrowed’ from Nya and painted black and orangey-yellow (red had seemed too obvious). He’d exchanged his Ninjaforce outfit for a soot-burned cross between a bomber jacket and a leather jacket. Down his back jutted a row of flames like the spines of a monster, courtesy of one of Nya & Jay’s unfinished inventions Red had modified- surely nothing bad would come of that!

For tonight, the Red Ninja was off-duty. For tonight, it was Heatstroke’s turn.

He fiddled with one of the weapons he’d ‘lent out’ from Master Wu. It resembled a small arm canon, like a smaller version of the Ultimate Weapon. The plaque under its post had read ‘Elemental Focuser’, which, in cryptic Wu speak, probably translated to ‘you can use an elemental power like something out of Avatar: The Last Airbender’. So far he’d only figured out how to activate a focused jet of fire. Well, at least it was on brand. He hoped it would help him catch Shogun’s attention so he could unmask him.

He’d tried confronting Smith at school, of course. But there were only so many ways of saying ‘are you the new vigilante helping the ninjas’, and Smith has a genuine talent for dancing around the topic. Red could confront him with the name Shogun to get a proper reaction, but that would mean explaining how he knew the name and outing himself as the Red Ninja.

So fake villainy really was the only way.

His plan was to use the Elemental Focuser to cause some minor petty damage, just enough to attract the new vigilante. Perhaps set a trash can on fire, block an alleyway with rocks (if he figured out how to change the setting from fire to earth), small things that could easily be repaired.

Of course, plans were never actually stuck to. One way or another, something was always improvised.

Red’s improvisation just happened to involve him accidentally setting the entire alleyway on fire.

He’d only been aiming for one dumpster, honest! And maybe he’d spotted a couple fliers for a SoG meeting on the ground and happened to burn those too. And a newspaper article blaming Lloyd for the recent Garmadon attack, again. And an article about those ‘Damn Ninja Menaces’ by a S. Sonah Sameson. And-

Okay, so maybe Red had aimed the fire at a few small targets. But just a few! And with good reason and good care, but…

Well, fire liked to burn. Give it enough kindle and it’ll continue to grow, stretching like reaching branches towards each other to join in a massive bonfire.

So now the entire alleyway was on fire, and Red was panicking.

He’d luckily chosen an abandoned part of town near the beaches where Shogun sightings seemed most frequent, but with the stupid Elemental Focuser not switching from fire mode to water mode or ice mode or something that didn’t have the potential to burn Ninjago City to the ground, Red had no way of stopping the flames.

And more flames meant more destruction which meant a bigger audience.

Which was why his previously muted comm suddenly flared to life, the only warning Red had before Nya’s water strider mech slid around the corner.

Red scrambled onto a roof as the mech drove past, spraying water at the bonfire to dose it. His sigh of relief was just as quickly dosed as Lloyd’s voice came over the comms; “Status, Grey?”

“Flames are out,” Nya replied. “Pursing the joker that set it ablaze.”

Uh oh. Red took off across the roof, leaping from building to building. Tiles creaked, pebbled and dust scattering underfoot. The sounds of the mech’s engine roaring behind him echoed through alleyways below to create the illusion the mech was everywhere at once.

As the chase grew on, more mechs started to join in. Red ducked into a narrow avenue to avoid Zane’s tank, then under a cafe overhang to throw off Jay and Lloyd. His heart hammered in his chest and he groaned, filling the inside of the motorcycle helmet with steam. Saying this was going ‘bad’ would be the understatement of the century.

What had he been thinking? Oh wait: he hadn’t. Seriously? ‘Oh I’ll just pretend to be a villain real quick, that should get Shogun’s attention and not the attention of literally my entire team of fellow ninjas!’ Stupid, impulsive, this was why everyone was always calling the red ninja the ‘hothead’ when he really tried not to be- Lloyd’s voice over the comms snapped him from his thoughts. “I can’t catch them! It’s like they know our every move!”

Red winced as he climbed up a banister and leapt from balcony to balcony. Sorry, Lloyd.

He didn’t miss how the others asked Nya where Red was. And how she made up excuses the others bought so easily- granted, he’d told those excuses to his sister before setting his plan into motion, but still, ouch. They acted like he was simply being at best too busy and at worst lazy and selfish.

He just wanted them to know the truth! Why couldn’t they at least try to believe him when-

Of course, that was when Shogun dropped out of the sky and tackled him.

Red shouted with surprise as he tumbled down from the second floor, slamming into a few softer bags of garbage to break his fall before rolling and slamming into the unforgiving concrete. A crack formed in his vision as the visor of his motorbike helmet smacked into the concrete ground. One of the fire jets on his back sputtered and sparked, sending a thin wisp of smoke into the air.

Shogun pinned his wrists to the ground and growled. “Who are you?”

Red tried to break free, agony turning his muscles and bones to fire with the movement after his fall, but the vigilante was too strong. Damn, how often did this guy train?

“Who am I?” Red said, a nervous tinge to his voice. He quickly smoothed it over with faked confidence. “Who are you? Who are all of us, really?”

Shogun narrowed his eyes behind his hood. “Did Garmadon send you? Or someone else?”

Red sputtered. Really, the nerve! Garmadon? The thought turned his insides to disgusting mud. “Nobody sent me!”

“Then why are you here?” Shogun spat.

“Why am I here?” Why was he here again? Oh right, the bright idea on how to reveal that Shogun was Smith. “It’s, uh… a valid reason! That I don’t have to tell you!” He tried for a villainous laugh. Stay in character, don’t blow your cover, you got this!

Shogun was unimpressed. “Nearly burning down my home was a valid reason?”

“Well, I wasn’t trying to set everything on- wait, WHAT?” Uh oh. “You LIVE here?”

Now it was Shogun’s turn to look uncomfortable, though the expression was quickly wiped from his face. “Nothing wrong with this district.”

Red nodded. “‘Course not. Uh, sorry about that… wasn’t my intention, I swear.”

Shoot, he could hear Jay’s jet getting closer. He had to get out of here, but Shogun, annoyingly, didn’t seem to be in the mood to simply let him go. “Then what is your intention?”

“Well, for starters, it’s getting out of here. This really isn’t going to plan and I’d rather just be home right now, or even inventing a time machine like in that book ‘Hands of Time’ to slap my past self in the face for even thinking about this stupid idea in the first place-“

Jay wasn’t the only one that could ramble under pressure, it seemed.

Shogun leaned closer. “What idea?”

Red shrugged as best he could with how he was pinned to the ground. “Well, for starters, I just wanted to prove to my friends that you’re Smith, and things just kinda escalated from-”

The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he said.

Shogun lurched back, letting go of him. His eyes betrayed a kaleidoscope of emotions; surprise, worry, suspicious, hurt, fear, realization.

“…Kai?”

Well, f!ck.

“I-“

Red was about to badly attempt to bullsh!t his way out of his identity reveal before it suddenly dawned on him that Shogun had not denied his theory.

Which meant Shogun was Smith.

And it also meant Smith instantly recognized him as Kai, which, considering his disguise, was aptly concerning. Sure, he was the first one in his group of friends people would think to do something this extreme but give him some credit! Zane was a regular detective, he’d do the same if it meant answers! Or, well, at least something similar. And Nya could be an adrenaline seeker. And Lloyd- well, maybe not Lloyd. Or Jay, either. Cole had his head just enough on his shoulders that he probably wouldn’t do this either.

But come on, instantly guessing it?

Well, at least Smith/Shogun didn’t know Kai was the Red Ninja. That would be a catastrophe.

Right. Back to the current catastrophe at hand.

Shogun- Smith- still had a look as if he’d been slapped, and Red hated it. He hadn’t meant to hurt his friend. Shogun… Shogun hadn’t wanted them to find out his identity. And then Red had gone and done it, just to prove that he could be the smart one, or a leader, or the protector so they didn’t get hurt, or literally anything but just the ‘hotheaded one’.

…And he’d done it in the most hotheaded, impulsive way possible.

He really was an idiot.

The cracked helmet hid the look on his face, a twisted mess of distraught and shame. But it didn’t help hide how he took stumbled to his feet and away from Smith, nervous that any second he’d spill another mistake and mess up again, like how he always freaking messed up on everything. Don’t pick this fight, interject there instead, no, not there, idiot, there, FMS why are you so useless-

Focus, focus.

Lloyd’s voice, sharp in the intercom and full of static from his tumble, snapped him from his thoughts. “Anyone got eyes on the arsonist?”

Red caught Smith’s eye as he raised his hand to his own communicator. He was so screwed, so busted, so doomed… Smith would report it, and the others would know, and they’d think he was just messing around in an alleyway with some stolen devices and weapons out of curiosity or rage, - and-

“None yet, still looking.”

…What?

Smith stared at him, gaze searching. He looked shaken, more so than Red- who’d just taken a fall from a second story, mind you, it was a miracle he wasn’t more injured than a couple small scrapes and some future bruises-, yet everything from the set of his jaw to the softening of his furrowed brows suggested a change in emotions. Well, not quite change; more like repress and replace.

“You wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you.”

Red flushed, hand instinctually clamping into a tight fist at his side. The still-working fire jets on his back ignited without him pressing any buttons; faulty activation from the fall or something.

Palms up and hands raised, Smith silently asked to defuse the situation. “Didn’t mean it as an insult. This wasn’t about venting some anger, was it.”

Red’s lack of response only confirmed it. Smith continued. “I won’t say anything about this if you don’t tell anyone my identity. Deal? I know finding it out was important to you, but-“

“Deal,” Red interrupted. Guilt ate away at his core, like a wave of water dousing a candle. “Smith, I-“ He swallowed hard and stared at the alley floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… to…”

Smith’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder and he flinched before relaxing as Smith didn’t move further, nor did the grip tighten. “I’m a little hurt, you’re right. But I’m not mad. And I won’t tell the others, so you can relax. But you better get out of here and get yourself an alibi. We can talk at school or something.”

Wow, he was handling this rather calmly. Red was struck by the sudden memory of- what did Jay call the word? Right. Compartmentalizing. That… wasn’t healthy. But at the roar of Lloyd’s mech somewhere nearby, he didn’t comment further. Instead, he shot Smith a grateful nod and ran down the alley, sticking to the shadows and blind spots of the flying mechs and the tight alleyways where the land mechs couldn’t reach him.

When he got home, miraculously without further incident (though Shogun leading the others on a wild goose chase over the comms certainly helped there), he ditched the outfit in a bag hidden beneath a loose floorboard in the shed. He’d return the weapon to Master Wu’s ship later, and… well, hope Nya never searched for the missing supplies. There wasn’t a way of fixing it without involving her or Jay, and neither was an option.

Heatstroke was back off duty, and so was the Red Ninja.

For now, he could just be Kai Smith. And there wasn’t any issue with that.

…

Right?

—————

yooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THIS IS AMAZING REHJJGFHDESFXJVZ

and ah yes, good ol trauma and compartmentalizing, we love to see it

#We love ourselves some good ol aus #same people but not really #Spbnr #spbnr aus

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impulsivefanwriter · 3 years

Text

A Tiny Spark Leads to a Roaring Flame (But Flames Can Always be Doused by Water)

Heeyyyyy so y’all know the Reverse Thanos Snap AU for SPBNR? Basically everyone but Smith/S!Kai gets sent to the M!verse. Everyone. The entire population of S!verse Ninjago City & a few surrounding areas. Except poor Smith. Essentially it happens because S!Garmadon tries to send Smith to a place where he can't mess with his plans, and ends up sending everyone away from Smith to take him out of the equation.

The second part to this AU is that the S!Ninja end up searching for Kai in the chaos and grab the Red Ninja before jetting out of there with the Bounty. Except... they didn’t grab Smith (who’s still home), but rather Red (M!Kai).

Red thinks the S!Ninja are babysitter clones created by Garmadon after he somehow turned Lloyd younger without his memories & is trying to raise him to be his new General #1. With this in mind, he pretends to be S!Kai, and waits for the moment he can rescue Lloyd.

What would happen in the S!Ninja discovered his deception/their mistake of grabbing a wrong Kai and mistake Red for a recreated Aki (aka Bizarro Evil Clone Kai) before he could enact his plan?

Well, this is that idea. (Title inspired by how a crack AU spiralled into a beautiful angst-fest)

Enjoy. :3

-----*-----

Red was going to get Lloyd out of here tonight.

Away from these Not-Friends made by Garmadon to emulate the Ninjaforce. Away from this flying ship built to emulate Master Wu's ship, so familiar and yet so off. Away from this false reality and back to the real everything where they could hopefully get his memories back and his age back and everything back to the way it was before the city descended into chaos.

He just had to... bide his time. Be patient.

FSM, he was bad at being patient.

His hands itched to grab Lloyd and run now, but he was horribly outnumbered and without his mech. No matter how badly he wanted to, he couldn't rush this. If he did, he would make everything worse. Like he always did.

But fate- or rather, Lloyd- had other plans.

The little version of his younger brother- yes, they were roughly the same age normally, shut up, Lloyd was still his younger brother- had been... eying him weird all morning. Not like Not-Jay and Not-Cole and Not-Zane, but like Not-Nya. Like he actually knew instead of suspected. These babysitter clones seemed to think he was the Not-Kai, and if that was the opportunity the universe was going to give him, then by the flames of the departed world was he going to skip this chance to save Lloyd.

Currently he stood on the deck of the ship as they parked in the sky a few meters above the docks on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't the docks with the Bounty warehouse, curse his luck, but it wasn't the endless sky or the empty ocean (though it was still too close to that murky, haunting water for his liking. Water was his sister's domain for a reason). At least he could sneak Lloyd off in the cover of night, maybe find someone in the city who wouldn't recognize the Son of Garmadon this way and would be willing to help them hide until they could make it back to the real ninja.

"Kai," Not-Zane spoke suddenly next to him.

Red would never get used to the way his voice... lacked the same effect the real Zane's had. The effect that Kai and the rest of his team had assured their friend over and over was unique, special, but in a good way. To embrace it. That it wasn't noticeable, but when it was, that it was so Zane that his friends didn't care that it was different.

This 'Zane' sounded much too different than his own. He hadn't recognized Kai's tested line of 'road work ahead' when they passed one of the many construction signs littering the city (even more so since the chaos happened a week ago), and instead had responded with 'a great deal of work to fix in the city'.

Seriously, Garmadon, do better research on your clones.

Not-Zane was also much too... calm. Too 'wise' compared to the wild teen that was Zane. And he walked without heelies or whatever Zane used to slide around like a boss, though he was still silent. And that meant, like now, he snuck up on Red fairly often- and Red was training to be a Ninja, so that took serious talent.

"Kai," Not-Zane said again, and Red finally broke his gaze from where he'd been staring over the railing, planning tonight's escape route. "Lunch has been made for over an hour. Are you alright?"

Red forced his brightest smile. "Course I'm alright! Just trying to figure out what happened, as usual."

Why Lloyd was suddenly like, 8, and without his memories. Why the Not-Friends were on this Not-Ship and had mistaken him for Not-Kai. Why the city was in a state of disarray and chaos.

Not-Zane studied him, then turned to give the city a sad look. "I'm not sure myself. My scanners can't seem to figure out what is happening. It is as if... blocked by some force."

Red winced, then expertly disguised the move by leaning against the rail. Zane never would use 'my scanners', despite how often Red and the others assured him it was okay. Yet another reason why this wasn't his friend.

"You know Ninjago City," Red said with a weak laugh. "Always one crisis or another. Always those annoying Garmadon Attacks"

This seemed to satisfy Not-Zane, who nodded thoughtfully. "This event definitely seems to have Garmadon's hand in the mess."

He patted Red on the back. "Well, don't worry yourself ragged, Kai. Come in for lunch soon, alright? We have training for Lloyd later."

Ah, right. Training. AKA what Red assumed was how Garmadon was planning to shape this impressionable version of his friend into his new General #1.

"I'm ready for training now, Zane!"

Speaking of Lloyd-

The little gremlin came up from the hull with the rest of the Not-Ninja. Red hated when the entire group was together; it was way more difficult to act as Not-Kai around them, especially around Not-Nya.

For starters, Not-Jay had a notch in his eyebrow that the real Jay never had. He was missing the iconic freckles, and the scarf, and the fluffy hair, though you could always say it was just a wardrobe change. What you couldn't change was the personality differences. This couldn’t be Jay. Jay was anxious and quiet, his jokes (while plentiful) said more timidly and his newest ideas shared with hesitance that only shrank after years of encouragement. He would never be this loud, ever.

Not-Cole was the leader, probably because Lloyd was so young. But even then, in Red's team, Nya would probably take second-command. Cole was their sturdy support, yes, but he was chill, laid-back. Ready to follow and support his friends to the ends of the earth with his tunes and occasional sarcastic wit, but not lead. Not like Not-Cole, who was more serious and commanding and didn't. listen. to. music. Red hadn't spotted a single record or boombox in the room in the hull. That was a tragic oversight on Garmadon's part. The members of his research team should be Fired.

And then there was Not-Nya. Who wore a dress with confidence that his sister would love but never publicly wear. Who had short hair- Nya had tried that style once, and decided it itched around her neck too much- and jewelry, and a giant flying Samurai mech suit. His sister had the Water Strider Mech, and Not-Nya had a flying combat suit. Sure. Close enough. Personality-wise they were similar.

Similar at first glance. Nya was fluid and adaptable to whatever role she needed filling. She was spunky, and as fiery as him when it came to tempers, though she knew how to keep hers in check (she had to, right? No one called her hot-headed and impulsive and reckless and blamed her temper for mistakes or damage or whatever the news comments liked to say about the Fire Mech). Not-Nya was also adaptable and independent-minded, but she seemed more rigid. More doing her own thing.

Point was, everyone wasn't actually his friends, despite how much they tried to prove they were. And they kept acting like he was this Not-Kai, who was just as hot-headed but apparently more mature and training-oriented and basically the better, cooler (or hotter, perhaps, for the fire theme of the red ninja) him, since his acting never seemed to fully convince them. Trying to impersonate a standard he couldn't seem to reach, some legendary hero he wasn't- er, wasn't yet! Yeah! He just needed to prove himself, be better, and he'd be fine. Just... fine. Yeah.

Mini-Lloyd (Red was tempted to call him L'ilyod in his head, but that felt wrong somehow, like he was infringing on some kind of copyright law) stared at him like a goddamn falcon, and he wasn't talking about the bird that circled the ship. He had this bowl-cut Red would tease him about endlessly after all this was over- seriously, how had Mr. Fabulous Hair started with this mess? Garmadon probably didn't even have hair, so there was no way the guy knew how to style it, and it was very evident based on Mini-Lloyd's hairdo.

Red noticed that all of them were staring, actually. Despite his relaxed rest against the rails, his fingers behind his back clutched the cool bar with a dull shake. He didn't notice how the metal seemed to glow red under his touch.

"Training, right, we should get onto that," Red tried. "What do you want to start with, Lloyd?"

"How about a little game?" Lloyd asked with complete innocence. "What we were playing last week before we got interrupted."

Oh sh!t.

"I-I don't know, shouldn't we start with stretches? Or how about some sparring, that's always more fun than a game!"

"But I wanted to continue our game..." Mini Lloyd said, and FSM's sake, he couldn't deal with that pouting look.

Okay. Okay, don't panic. Think logically. What kind of game would an 8-year-old Lloyd like to play with him? Something physical, so no board games- he liked to test his mettle against Zane on those, and sometimes he would almost not-lose. Logic puzzles also fell more on Jay's area. Trivia, especially music trivia, was a bubble between the anxious motormouth and Cole. Video games fell on team building, and wouldn't classify as a training warmup.

"Well," Red said, taking a hopeful stab in the dark. "There's not too much space on the deck for... tag..."

Lloyd nodded, looking satisfied. The Not-Ninja looked- well, their expressions were hard to read because of how different it was compared to his friends. But Red was a master of deception (well, fire, but eh, technicalities), and he had them fooled, and he just had to keep it up until nightfall so he could rescue Lloyd and explain in a safe location-

"HE'S NOT KAI!"

Orrrrr improvise. Okay, yep, he could improvise.

Red lunged forward and grabbed Mini Lloyd's wrist from where he had his hand extended in an accusatory point. He ducked under Not-Jay's attempts to grab him- fast, but not as fast as his Jay, his Jay who could disappear from an awkward social interaction in the span of a flickering lightbulb- and dragged his younger brother with him as he vaulted over the railing. Not-Zane almost managed to yank him back onto the Not-ship, but his icy grip caught only empty air as Red pulled Lloyd into a tight hold and ducked.

He hit the dock below with a stumble, rolling back onto his feet and taking off with a very stubborn green ninja in tow. It took all his strength to drag Lloyd (kicking and screaming like he was being kidnapped or something when Red was just trying to rescue him, for FSM's sake. Lloyd didn't know that, but he could still try to be at least a little more considerate.)

The wooden docks creaked and shuddered underfoot and Red grimaced; whoever rebuilt them after the latest Garmadon attack had shredded them like newspaper clearly hadn't wasted any unnecessary change. It certainly didn't help that Lloyd packed quite the punch for someone so small. Red definitely would come out of this with bruised shins and arms from where Mini Lloyd tried to push him away, but it would be worth it to keep his teammate, his younger brother, safe.

Then green filled his vision and broke his hold on Lloyd's wrist, sending him skidding across the dock planks as he was sent flying. When he finally rolled to a stop, neck and shoulder stinging from where the blast had caught him (no burns, just jitters like he'd been shocked), he had to take a few seconds to re-orient himself. Did the Not-Ship have cannons or something? What hit him from behind, so close it could have hit Lloyd?

Lloyd. Was Lloyd okay?

Red pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the bleeding scrapes on his hands and legs from where he'd gotten banged up by the splintered docks. His gaze, sharp and frantic, searched for signs of green. The warning of more blasts, the flash of the fabric of a gi, anything.

He spotted his brother in the arms of Not-Cole. No, no, no-

And suddenly Not-Nya was there, given a boost by Not-Jay. Her grip was as if she were wearing the robotic mech suit, harsh and powerful and near in-human. She threw Red back to the dock floor as her face twisted with the fury of a storming ocean. A resounding crack rang out over the harbour.

Red couldn't tell if it came from the planks under him or his own shoulder.

She pinned him to the wood, barking accusations and threats in his face faster than Not-Jay could talk. Red blinked through a haze of pain, trying to focus on her face and words. She was missing the beauty mark on her face, he noticed. Yet another tell she wasn't his sister.

"-scar on the wrong side-" And it was hard to hear again over the ringing in his ears. He tried to throw her off, get back to Lloyd, anything, but he was-

Useless.

Her hands suddenly got in his face, slamming his left cheek to the wood. She was close- close to his face, close to his eye, close to his scar- pushing and prying as she tried to do something. Red picked up in his struggling, his attempts to free himself turning to desperate shoves and wild clawing like a trapped animal. He wouldn't let this creation of Garmadon's finish the job that teen had started all those years ago.

"Or better yet, he needs to shut his damn mouth."

The flash of a knife. His vision half-blurry. Blood- so much blood- and a lasting scar.

"-contacts-" "-red-" "-struggling-" "-we know what he- it- is already-" "-not the real Kai-" "-wish-" "-Garmadon-"

He had to get away. Get Lloyd away from them now.

In one surge of strength- and yep, his shoulder definitely wasn't okay after that move, as if he'd ripped it not just from its socket but from its very attachment to his body- he knocked Not-Nya aside. If he could’ve seen through the red haze, he might have noticed red embers dancing around his fingertips as his desperation and fear tapped into something deep in his soul.

He tried to shoot to his feet, tried to run for Lloyd (held so tight in Not-Cole's grip, surely they were hurting him, he couldn't let that happen-). He roared, "LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE!", but before he could take another step through Not-Jay and Not-Zane in his path, the docks gave one last ominous shudder before deciding it had finally had enough.

The planks crumbled underfoot like charred firewood in a crackling campfire, and Red was sent tumbling into the frigid ocean water below.

#spbnr #reverse Thanos snap au #reverse thanos snap #ninjago #lego ninjago #same People but not really #kai ninjago

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peterneptune16 · 4 years

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Why I love RoseGarden (Full Essay[?, Idk what to call it])

Reason 1: How They Support Each Other

Okay so this is probably the biggest part of this all but I really wanted to talk about this because- Oscar and Ruby have supported each other A LOT, so of course this gonna be the 1st reason I discuss, but enough of my rambling, onto the reasoning:

Let’s take a look at the past 4 Volumes real quick and do an alaysis of 7 scenes in particular

-Volume 5-

Scene 1: Dojo Scene (V5 Ep5)

In the scene that all RoseGarden fans, including myself, love so much. We have Ruby comforting Oscar and being there by his side to give him support and encouragement to keep pressing onwards, to keep going on cause he will get stronger and that just by being there, it already says alot about him. This shows that Ruby does believe in Oscar and knows he can do this, he just needs a little help along the way. A little push.

Scene 2: Ruby is Hurt Scene (V5 Ep12)

In this scene that all RoseGarden fans ALSO love, Oscar immediately rushes to Ruby’s side whenever she is hurt by Emerald and knocked down. Kneeling down and encouraging her to get back up and keep fighting, telling her that they need her. This shows that Oscar has already developed pretty strong feelings for Ruby atleast as a friend by this point in time, despite them not knowing each other for very long.

-Volume 6-

Scene 1: Ruby reassuring Oscar (V6 Ep4)

In this fairly short scene, we see Ruby return Oscar’s cane back to him and comfort him after what just happened with Jinn. When Oscar asks her if he is just another one of Ozma’s lives, Ruby is quick to reply saying that he isn’t, that he is his own person. Even putting her other hand ontop of his, showing that she does genuinely care for Oscar and doesn’t want him thinking that he doesn’t matter, that he’s not just another Ozma, that he’s Oscar Pine and that wasn’t changing.

Scene 2: Oscar reassuring Ruby (V6 Ep10)

In this also fairly short scene, we see Ruby looking doubtful about the whole plan she has involving Cordovin’s Mech. Obviously having a hard time believing that it’ll work out, to which Oscar steps in and reassures her that it will work. His confident smile during this all, shows that he does believe in the plan and isnt just saying he does for Ruby too feel better, but that he trusts her and knows that it’ll all work under her leadership.

-Volume 7-

Scene 1: Ruby trusts Oscar to keep the lamp safe (V7 Ep3)

In this scene, which is somewhat short, Ruby hands the lamp off to Oscar, cause she is going down to the Tundra. She knows that Oscar will keep the lamp safe and out of the wrong hands while in Atlas, which he does, all the way until he ends up getting ambushed by Neo and the lamp is stolen. (Not focusing on the Oscar side of this scene here, but we will discuss that in the next scene analysis) The fact Ruby shows no restraint when handing the lamp off to Oscar, despite the fact Ozpin is in his head and could return any minute for all they know, shows that she really does trust Oscar as Oscar. She knows that he knows the right thing to do and isn’t worried about what choices he’ll make.

Scene 2: Oscar takes the burden off Ruby’s shoulders (V7 Ep9)

In this scene, which gets build up in the previous scene with Oscar asking Ruby if hiding Oz’s secrets from Ironwood was a good move or not, we see Ruby and Oscar, very nervously, talking about how they feel about telling Ironwood. In which they both reveal that they both think they should tell Ironwood. Which I think is all well and good, and really cute, but I’m more focused on what comes after. Ruby says that she’ll tell Ironwood what Jinn told them, but upon seeing she is needed elsewhere, Oscar immediately steps up to take on the burden of telling Ironwood what Oz was hiding, no matter what Ironwood’s reaction would be. He is willing to take this huge burden off of Ruby’s shoulders because she needs to do something even more important at the moment, and he doesn’t wanna hold her back from doing it. Despite how Ironwood may react, Oscar shows no fear or hesitation and is more than willing to do this for Ruby, in place of her.

-Volume 8-

Scene 1: Ruby going to find Oscar (V8 Ep1)

In this scene, which is an absolute gold mine for all us RoseGarden shippers, a good amount goes on. First off, Ruby goes out to find Oscar, though she likely is unsure if he is even alive, and eventually does find him. When she does, she is visibly very happy too see him again, alive and somewhat well. Oscar and Ruby are then seemingly talking about what happened in Atlas, with Oscar claiming that every choice he made was the wrong one. She then reassures him that he just did what he thought was right, that they all did, and that she is just glad to see him alright. Too which he blushes upon being touched by her and told that (Boy definitely crushing but more on that later). This whole scene was just really cute and wholesome too see how Ruby does care about Oscar alot, and that she is happy too see him alright. Which is really just- pure. While also reassuring him that he isn’t too blame for all that happened, that he can’t be beating himself up over this all and it isn’t his fault.

So basically, I just like too see these scenes because they show that the two have alot of trust in each other, and are always there to reassure each other through anything, that they’re there for each other, and are always a support for one another. That one can always lean on the other for support if needed, they’ll be their rock. Also if the pattern keeps up, possibly another Oscar supporting Ruby scene coming this volume! Cause those are always in the later half of the volumes, while the Ruby ones are always in the earlier halves.

Reason 2: How They Inspire Each Other

How Oscar inspires Ruby: While he may not inspire her as much as she inspires him, Oscar still does inspire Ruby in a few ways. She seems to be genuinely impressed with how he handles things despite being so young. Like when he successfully lands the airship despite being just a fourteen year old farm hand. She seemed geniunely surprised and impressed, and this probably isn’t the only time he has made her feel that way, so it seems safe to say that Oscar in some way does inspire Ruby.

How Ruby inspires Oscar: Ruby inspires Oscar in a whole multitude of ways. Ruby is the inspiration that gave Oscar a reason to keep pressing on and keep fighting despite everything, despite how scared he was. She made him realize his true inner strength and bravery, made him realize that he can do this. After that talk she had with him in Volume 5, he seemed much more confident and ready for the road ahead. She also inspired him to see himself as more than just the next Ozpin in Volume 6, or atleast, tried too. It was hard with how much others were kind of holding him back from doing so due to their frustrations with Ozpin at the moment, but It seems Ruby was in some way able to help Oscar realize that he is more than just Ozpin part 2.

Reason 3: Oscar’s (Hinted at) True Feelings

Something that was pretty much confirmed this volume is that Oscar does have some deeper feelings towards Ruby, most likely a crush, whenever he blushes at her just putting her hand on his shoulder and saying that she is glad too see him alright.

But this was not the first hint that Oscar may have some feelings towards Ruby, as there have been a few sprinkled throughout the series if you look close enough. Which is something that I really like about this ship, there have been small subtle hints too it for a while now, in reality, since the very beginning. When Oscar first even meets Ruby, the first thing he seems to notice about her is her eyes, and says the quote “You have silver eyes” but the way he says it and the look on his face, gives more the impression of him finding them unique and beautiful, rather than a source of power like most other people would. (A girls eyes are also often one of the first few things a guy notices about her and finds attractive, which seems to be the case here for the young pine tree)

There was another moment when they first met that also gives the impression Oscar may have started having some sort of feelings for her right off the bat, keep in mind though, I’m not saying this was a crush just yet, rather he just found her pretty and/or attractive in some way. This was that whenever the two first met and Oscar saw Ruby smile and giggle, he immediately blushed and became a little bit nervous around her in an adorkable way. (A smile is often another thing a guy first notices about a girl he finds attractive, as is her laugh)

Another thing I wanna mention is that he almost always looks at Ruby whenever the two of them are in a room together, she doesn’t even have to be saying or doing anything and his eyes will still drift towards Ruby without fail. Which could just be a cute subtle way of showing his growing emotions towards Ruby as the series progresses. And if he ever sees her in any sign of danger he is always quick to call out her name and usually reach out towards her.

Aswell, the next point I’d like to mention in this segment, is how Oscar changed up his outfit to have bits of red in it. But, this red doesn’t really make much sense at first glance if you look at it, as it seems to just be there cause it looks kind of cool on his outfit, but this is RWBY and almost everything has some kind of significance too it, especially colors, so this could be one of those cases where a character adds a color to their outfit too show a fondness or closeness for another character. To show a closer attraction towards them, as it was confirmed people in Remnant do that. But who could this red be for- none other, than Ruby Rose herself. The only one with red as their main color and the one Oscar has grown the closest too across the course of the series. Like how Jaune has red in the form of Pyrrha’s sash, to show he still has a close bond with her, even after her untimely death. Or how Ren and Nora both wear pink, idk if that counts, but I think it does dang it. Anyhow, I think this is possibly a cute little way of showing how Oscar has grown stronger feelings for Ruby, add onto it she was the first one too comment positively on his new combat gear, saying it looks good. Aswell it looks like the exact same shade of Red as her combat gear.

For the final point I’d like to mention this segment, is one that I will spoiler warning the whole post for because of the fact that it just really does mean alot for Oscar’s character. It’s that Oscar was the one to offer a hug to Ruby, not the other way around, when they met up again in Atlas. Ruby has been the one too offer a hug to everyone else but never really the one to get offered a hug, and Oscar has always been the one to recieve hugs from others but not offer them himself. So seeing Oscar offer a hug to Ruby and seeing his smile just seeing her again- my fucking heart y’all-

So I think CRWBY has been dropping small hints all along that Oscar would grow feelings for Ruby somewhere along the way. And he just now is starting to see those feelings as more than just close friends, but rather that he has a developing crush on Ruby.

Reason 4: It Isn’t Really One Sided

Though Ruby may not exactly feel the same way about Oscar that he does her and we don’t have as much evidence for her as we do for Oscar, we do have some small pieces of evidence here and there that suggest Ruby could possibly start feeling similar feelings for Oscar that he does for her.

The first thing I would like to point out is that Ruby seems to look out for Oscar in alot of ways, and she seems to keep an eye on him whenever they’re in a fight or whenever he is in any sort of danger. The first time this happened was during their sparring match where she was quick to call back to Oscar after she knocked him down, like she was asking if he was alright, and then again in the same sparring match when she rushed too his side when Ozpin handed back the controls and he seemed hurt and exhuasted, a clear look of worry across her face. She also kept her eye out for Oscar whenever Hazel went after him during the Volume 5 fight and was quick to let the others know that he needed help, which shows that she was worried for him during this fight despite the fact Ozpin was also there, she was worried for Oscar nonetheless. She was also the first one to ask Oscar if he was okay in Volume 6 when they saw him again, which was honestly adorable. She also kept her eye out for him during the Volume 7 Mantle fight, whenever he killed that sabyr and didn’t notice another jumping up to strike him from behind, she was quick to be the one to respond by shooting it and giving a nod and smile to Oscar, almost as if showing she was proud of Oscar in some ways for how far he’s come as a fighter over such a short time actually fighting, and also reassuring him that she had his back in this. It was also cute how in the first episode of this volume, she was the one who went out to go find Oscar, she was the one who reached out too him when they saw each other again, and she was clearly happy too even just see him again, she likely didn’t even know he was alive or even down in Mantle, but she was still going to go look for him. Then of course there was this past episode, where she noticed that Oscar was right beside Emerald and she immediately went to draw her weapon before Oscar stepped in to stop her, showing pretty much an identical expression and reaction to the one Oscar had whenever he noticed her get knocked down during the fight at Haven. Which, these just seem like really cute and sweet moments on Ruby’s part, how she kind of is always there looking out for Oscar whenever he is possibly in any sort of danger or is hurt in any way and she is actually there to help prevent it, like she’s protective of her farm hand Cinnamon Roll.

Another thing I’d like to mention is that she is a bit awkward around Oscar at times, sort of like he is around her. She seems to hug herself a bit whenever she is around him and it’s just the two of them together, as she did this both in Volume 5 and Volume 7, like she is a little bit nervous, and she gets a little gigglgy and awkward, making it seem like she has some part of her that does have some kind of awkward dorkish feelings toward Oscar, similar to how he can get kind of awkward and nervously flustered around her aswell, she’s just better at not showing it.

Like I said, there are less pieces of evidence for Ruby’s side of things than there are for Oscar, but she does seem to have a few hints here and there that she may at some point reciprocate the feelings he feels for her, just towards him.

Reason 5: Extra Little Details

These are just small things here and there honestly, just cute things about these two that could possibly hint at them being a possible thing in the future. Or maybe they’re just purely coincidental, who knows? I still pretty much just find them cute regardless, needless to say, this is my weakest of the five points. But I still wanted to mention these things cause they do contribute a little bit.

Oscar and Ruby’s main colors are complementary. This is a point that is extremely obvious to anyone who just knows well- anything about colors. Red and Green are complementary colors, and these two have the main colors of Red and Green. This is a bit of a weak point, but it’s still cute none the less and given how important colors are in RWBY, ya never know.

This next point is really pretty weak and honestly just for fun, but, their eyes do complement each other a bit. Light Green and Light Yellow are colors that complement Silver. Though this is probably unintentional, It’s just something cute I wanted to note.

There are other things that could be considered cute small pieces of evidence, like how Oscar has an Aunt and Ruby has an Uncle, or that Miles has defended RoseGarden saying that the ship is fine with the age difference stuff. But those things are pretty much well known by anyone else who ships RoseGarden and more than likely just to RWBY fans in General, so I’d feel a bit wrong putting them here and giving them too much attention. I did want to mention them but that’s about it. Anyways, onto the conclusion.

Conclusion

So in Conclusion, There are quite a few reasons that I ship RoseGarden, but hey, this is just my personal opinion. Honestly I’d love too hear anyone else’s opinions on the ship aswell! And if there are any reasons that you ship these two that I didn’t list here, feel free to tell me, I’d love too hear them! Just please be respectful in replies, after all, these are just ships. We all ship for fun so may aswell just keep discussions about ships fun. But that’s all for now and hope others like this post and like the ship for these reasons aswell! Hope everyone has an amazing day ^^

#rwby #ruby rose #oscar pine #rwby rosegarden #rosegarden #rwby rosepine #rosepine #ruby x oscar #rwby volume 8 spoilers #volume 8 spoilers #rwby v8 spoilers #rwby spoilers #v8 spoilers

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momolady · 4 years

Text

Goblin Girlfriend: Blair

A nice fluff piece. Something I’m sure you’ll all find nice and comforting.

Female Main Character x Female Monster

The accident, as everyone around me calls it, keeps getting talked about like a monster in the shadows. ‘The accident took your hand,’ they say. ‘The accident is to blame for this, don’t blame yourself.’ They aren’t the ones missing a hand, are they? Yes, the accident did take my hand, but that isn’t what concerns me. I don’t blame the entity known as ‘accident’, because accidents happen. Actually, I don’t know who or what to blame for this.

The hospital offered to grow me a new hand in their lab, but that felt too gruesome for my taste. It also would have taken too long and cost far too much. Instead I was given a list of people who could build me a new hand. It would still be expensive, but it would be cheaper than anything the hospital offered.

Most of the people listed are located in the ‘circuit district’, a section of town where most of the robot repairers, mechanics, and their like have set up shop over the years. After I’m able to leave my house without being mildly panicked, that’s where I head. The list is quite long and I’m not sure where to start. The circuit district is quite a maze, with shops down narrow alleyways and shacks built on rooftops. There’s an electric hum to everything, punctuated by sparks and sizzles. As I navigate the blue glow of the maze, suddenly there is a cat in my path.

“Oh, hello kitty.” I’m quite surprised to see a cat in such a place. I notice the cat’s left paw is mechanical, a shiny chrome sort of color. The cat scratches itself, then looks up at me with sweet, wide eyes. It meows and trots over, weaving between my legs. I kneel down to pet it and rub behind its ears.

“Nice to meet you, uh...” Taking the collar, I see a small tag with the cat’s name. “Hello, Georgie.”

The cat sits upright, and with a wiggle Georgie leaps up. With some slight panic I manage to hold him in my right arm. “Easy there! I only have one hand now.”

Georgie purrs. I sigh and double-check the address on the tag. To my surprise, the very same address is on the list I was given. “Well, then, perhaps you helped me make up my mind, Georgie.” I adjust my arm so Georgie is happily nestled against the crook of my neck. I walk with him in that position until we reach his home.

The building is on the corner, so two of the walls are massive garage doors, one red, one silver. The red one is open, so I just walk inside. The ceiling is way up, and there are hydraulic lifts above. One has a car on it, and the other has some sort of mech suit. To one side of the shop there are three other mech suits in a line, yellow, pink, and blue. Beside them is a wall of tiny drawers. The next wall is covered in monitors, each showing a different wall of text or image.

“Who goes there?” a voice booms.

I jump in surprise, but Georgie bolts down from my arms and runs towards the back just as someone slides down from a pole above. The person is quite short, wearing a large headpiece with goggles, grease-smudged coveralls and heavy black boots.

“Georgie!” They stoop over to pick up the cat. “You bolted this morning. What the hell was so damn important? You got a lover out there?” The mechanic turns in my direction and points at me. “This them?”

“No. Um, hello there.” I start to wave my left hand, but quickly stop myself and use my right. “I found Georgie - well, technically, Georgie found me.”

“He does that.” The mechanic sets Georgie on the desktop under the monitors and takes off the headpiece. Her hair fluffs out, and she runs a metal hand through it, looks at me with big green eyes and smirks. “Thanks for bringing the asshole back.”

“Actually...” I hold up the list. “It could be a moment of kismet. Are you...” I try to read the name on the page.

The mechanic turns to the monitors and starts clicking on a keyboard. “Call me Bleh. That's the best most people can pronounce. Some are nice and say Blair, but I really don’t give a shit. What are you here for?” She takes off the coveralls and I see a petite, slender figure in a tank top and bra underneath. Her full arm is mechanical.

“My hand,” I say quietly. “Um, it’s...”

Blair turns and sees the arm I’m holding at my side. “Prosthetic, eh? Didn't like what they could grow at the hospital?” she laughs.

I grimace. “It was too creepy. It felt… wrong.”

“What’cha got there, a lefty?” She double-checks then looks back at the screen. “Nicole, bring up schematics of left hands.”

“Yes, Bleh. Bringing up left-hand schematics, years 5 through 9.” The screens blink, then flash with different hand models.

Blair wags her hand for me to come closer. “I ain’t gonna lie to ya, even mech hands can be extremely pricy. Not hospital-pricey, but still pricey.”

“I’m fully prepared for that. Without this hand, I can’t work, and if I can’t work, I can’t pay you back.”

“What do you do?” Blaire asks.

“Book repair.” I place my left arm in her hand.

Blair whistles. “You work for rich people, don’t you?”

I shrug. “I suppose. But I do sometimes volunteer my time to museums and preservationists when I get the chance.”

Blair takes a pair of goggles from the table and flips down a row of magnifying glasses before her right eye. “What happened here? Amputation? Saw mill accident?”

“Accident,” I say. “But not at a saw mill.”

Blair huffs and sits back. “I can make up a mock-up of what I can do, but I’ll need to take some extensive photos of your right hand to get the size and shit right.”

“That’s fine.” I pull back my left arm. “I’m free right now, if that works.”

Blair smirks up at me. “You sure you wanna start working with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Do you have a reputation? I know sometimes fairy folk are...”

Blair snickers. “I’m not a fairy, I’m a goblin. And yeah, I have a reputation as being a bit of an asshole to work with.”

Blair shows me the estimate, as well as prices with certain materials and colors used. It is quite expensive, but it would be worth it in the long run. I need this hand. “Now, as for payment,” Blair sighs. “I could use some help around here. I get busy and forget about things. Nicole can only do so much for me. I need someone to help me with the life admin of my, well, life.”

I’m a bit surprised. “You want an assistant?”

Blair nods. “I’ve forgotten to eat and stuff like that, and it’s starting to not be okay. Never was, but… I also need help with laundry. And my apartment upstairs is...” She grimaces. “Well, it’s something you can work on to pay off the price until you can work on books again.”

“I don’t know how much help I can be. But this would be a huge load off my mind. Not being able to work right now is driving me batty,” I chuckle nervously. “This could help me get on my feet again.”

“Then why not start today? I can start getting things laid out and prepped. Maybe by next month I’ll have something that can be temporarily fitted.”

She motions to a door in the back and leads me through it and up the stairs to her apartment. “I’m so used to tech I sometimes forget about real life, you know?” She turns the lights on, and while it isn’t too bad, it’s still pretty chaotic. Clothes everywhere, machine parts propped up, tools scattered among wrappers and cat toys.

“I used to have a hamster. I sent Georgie to find it but, eh...” Blair shrugs. “Georgie was the wrong cat for the job. So if you come across a hamster…”

“I get it,” I murmur. “Where do you keep your cleaning supplies?”

“I have window cleaner somewhere,” Blair murmurs.

I try not to react to that. “Window cleaner isn’t what I need.”

Blair glances back up at me. “That’s all I ever use.”

“Oh, boy,” I whisper to myself. “Well, where would you like me to start?” I look around, trying to make a map in my mind of how to go through this place.

“The floor, I guess?” Blair grumbles. “I’m not picky. Whatever you want to work on, you work on. If you need anything, just ask Nicole. She’ll be able to answer your questions.”

I nod, still formulating a plan. “Have you had lunch yet?”

“I haven’t even had breakfast,” Blair laughs. “One of those things I forgot.”

It takes me a few days to get into the groove of things. I show up early, but usually Blair is still working. She’ll go to bed once I arrive, and sleep a couple of hours while I clean or work on the planner I’m putting together. After she wakes up I help her get breakfast in order, then clean with a vacuum as she goes to work. Once finished with the apartment, I work with her in the shop. I keep it clean, dusting and sweeping, usually with Georgie hanging off the broom.

I’m enjoying my time with her. More than that, I’ve found myself being more and more drawn to Blair. In fact, there are times when my heart flutters when I think about her. I’m nervous to ask her if she feels the same, so I’ve kept my mouth shut.

Finally, the day comes for the first fitting. I sit with Blair in a brightly-lit room as she puts a socket over my wrist. She adjusts the hand, puts it through a few tests, then attaches it to the bracelet.

“How does it feel?” Blair asks softly.

“It itches a little,” I reply. “Tingles too, sort of like when it falls asleep.”

“Good.” Blair smiles. “Try moving the fingers, then.”

The fingers flex, albeit slowly. Blair giggles excitedly. “Okay then, turn your wrist.”

I do so.

“Perfect!” She takes my hand and starts poking at it. I can feel her warmth through the new hand, or perhaps that’s just wishful thinking.

“After this is done, what then?” I ask.

“You can go back to the things you used to. Go back to work, your home, whatever you want. It’s your hand.” Blair says.

“But...” My voice catches in my throat. “What about you?”

Her long ears twitch. “Me? What about me?” She looks up and her cheeks darken. “I’ll be fine.”

My fingers fidget and twitch, and she looks back down. “Maybe I could check in on you from time to time,” I say softly. “Make sure you’re eating. Maybe even take you out now and again.”

Blair sniffs and nods. “Sure, maybe,” she says dismissively.

“I’m free tonight,” I say unsurely. My nerves are rising, but I need to ask. “Maybe we could get something to eat, then maybe snuggle with Georgie, on the couch.”

“Not anywhere near here with good food,” she murmurs.

I frown and look away. “Oh.”

Blair stops, turning her green eyes up to me. “Wait.” She furrows her brow. “Snuggle on the couch?”

My cheeks feel like they are on fire. “Yeah.”

Blair’s face darkens to a deep emerald color. “Oh.” She sits back a second. “I don’t know about dinner.”

I’m trying not to smile too big, so I bite my cheek. “I can figure that out if you’d like.”

“Okay,” Blair begins to smile. “I would like that. But...” she clears her throat. “Let's focus on your hand here. Okay, trying holding something.”

I pick up a screwdriver nearby and hold it, twitching my wrist around and flexing my fingers.

“This is just a temporary make, mind you, so it won’t have all the features, but this does give me something to build off of. I’ll be able to make the permanent model now, and you can use the temporary one.”

I sigh with relief and clutch the hand to my chest. I could just about cry. “Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Blair smiles softly. “I do, actually. I had an old friend do the same for me when I was much younger.” She pulls up her sleeve to show me her arm. “It made me fall in love with the craft.” She motions to the blue, yellow, and pink mech suits behind her. “My old friends. That’s why I wanted to work so hard for you, Sig.”

I smile brightly back at her, wishing I could kiss her, but I’ll have to wait for that. “You deserve more than I can give. You really are an artist.”

Her cheeks darken. “Yeah well, I don’t really care. I’m happy with this here.”

When I come back that evening, I’ve got takeout with me. Georgie greets me at the door, and I let myself up the stairs. When I enter the apartment, I see something strange. It’s still quite clean, and there are candles lit. It looks like Blair tried cleaning up herself.

“I’m here!” Blair comes running out. Her hair is wet and she’s wearing clean clothes. I’ve never seen her in shorts, so for the first time I realize her leg is a prosthetic, just like her arm. She pushes her hair away from her face. “Hi,” she says breathlessly.

I smile back. “Hi.”

She sits close to me as we eat, and when we’re done she takes my hand as we walk to the couch. She cuddles up close to me, but I can tell she’s still nervous, and I know I am too. “Is this okay?” Blair asks.

I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Yeah. of course.”

Blair clears her throat and nods. “Would it be too much if I asked for a kiss?”

I bite my lip as I smile. “No.” I bend down a bit. Her hand touches my cheek, and I close my eyes. The kiss starts out soft and sweet, but then Blair starts to pull back. I chase after her, deepening the kiss. Blair presses closer, putting her arms around me as I slip mine against her back.

Blair breathes softly as we part. “I was hoping something like this would happen,” she whispers. “I just felt silly all this time.”

“So, you like me?”

She nods.

“I like you too.” I cuddle up beside her again. “I’d like to get to know you more in this way.”

“I still have a lot of work to do on your hand. This is just a temporary fit for now.” She smiles awkwardly. “But, that doesn’t mean I’m trying to trap you or anything.”

“I know.” I kiss her again and I feel her shiver.

“You’re good at that,” she squeaks. “I’m not good at a lot of real-world stuff. So just... yell at me if I forget something.”

“I’ll remind you. I won’t yell.” I kiss her cheek and she leans into it, turning her head this way and that to accept more kisses. Her smile grows larger and hard to ignore. She looks so happy and cute, I can’t stop myself.

Soon we’re laid out on the sofa, with Blair snuggled on top of me and Georgie purring on her back. We’re watching a movie, but we haven’t really paid attention. We’ve kissed and talked a lot, and now, because of Georgie, we’re sort of stuck. “I blame Georgie for this,” Blair says.

“What do you mean?”

Blair looks up at me with those perfect green eyes. “Well you said so yourself. It was sort of like kismet that Georgie found you. Maybe it’s more than that. Not just a hand, but maybe a friend… a girlfriend?”

I kiss her again. “Yeah, I guess this is all Georgie’s fault,” I giggle.

#monsterxhuman #monster girlfriend #goblin #monster romance #fluff #my writing #momolady monsters #monster fudger

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silkling · 3 years

Note

Thank you that's so sweet??? Aaa that means a lot-

I have thought of a few prompts actually,,

One being, TFA Prowl and Jazz where Prowl was some sort of fae creature that could disguise himself as a normal bot, and he got dragged to Yoketron. Either Yoketron knew what he was or he entered a deal with him by accident, but Prowl was like...honor bound to stay and learn from him after making that agreement. Maybe Jazz is there visiting as a previous student, and weird things about Prowl keep catching his attention.

The other was far more angsty- what if Sigma 17 were woken up earlier, like halfway through the war when their pod is discovered by an Autobot ship.. mby Blades' brothers are still aware and he can feel them, but otherwise they're just dumped straight into war. Poor bbys.

Oh my god. You. You just. You don’t know what you did. Cause I like, really like fae lore. So as soon as I saw that prompt my brain demanded it be written. But I also really like your other prompt. So I’m going to do them both! This one is the fae Prowl one. I’ll post the second prompt in another post. But seriously I’m going to have so much fun with this. You have no idea what you have unleashed in my brain.

———————————————————————————————————

Yoketron watched as the lithe, elegant youngling was hauled into his Dojo by Warpath. He arched a brow when he noticed the muzzle clamped on his face, and then was even more surprised when he realized just how much the mechling was capable of thrashing in the larger Autobot’s hold, despite the stasis cuffs clamped around his wrists. The youngling, a two-wheeler now that Yoketron was able to see him more clearly, was dumped on the floor and pinned under a heavy red pede.

“You sure you want to take this one, Master Yoketron? I really think he’s more deserving of the stockades, filthy little deserter.” Warpath snarled.

“Indeed, Warpath. I am quite certain.” Yoketron hummed. “I assure you, if he truly does not wish what I have to offer than I am quite capable of bringing him to the stockades myself.”

Warpath only grumbled, growling one more time at the small youngling, and then he bowed and left.

As soon as the weight on him was gone, the mechling’s thrashing kicked up a notch and he tried to sit himself up. It seemed though, that despite his surprising amount of maneuverability he didn’t have enough control of his limbs to actually do so. Yoketron knelt down, reaching out and pressing the release mechanism of the muzzle. It dropped to his waiting palm and he subspaced it, retracting his hand just in time to avoid razor sharp fangs snapping shut on his fingers. As it was, those deadly dentae clacked together harshly as the mechling’s jaw closed on empty air. Yoketron arched a brow, frowning. Odd. Usually it was only warframes who had such sharp fangs, and this little one was most definitely not a warframe.

Yoketron ignored the furious glare, casting a critical gaze over the mech laying prone on his dojo floor. At least he had stopped thrashing, though now his frame was so tense the armor plating was clamped shut too tight to get even a metal wire in between the individual armor pieces. Yoketron returned his gaze to meet the glowing visor, bright with the fury and rage that was strong enough for him to practically taste in the youngling’s field.

He hummed as if to himself, reaching behind him to undo the stasis cuffs, only to stop when fangs pierced and dug into the armor of his forearm. He shot the mechling an unimpressed look, his free hand reaching and digging fingers into the soft protoform of his face behind his jaw. His body almost spasmed, his mouth forced open, his fangs and lips stained with Yoketron’s energon. The ninja master ignored the fear that started to sour his field, as well as the way his ventilations increased until he was panting harshly, mouth forced open and glaring helplessly at the older bot. Instead, he reached out again, removing the stasis cuffs, then releasing his jaw and straightening as he stepped back.

He watched the young mech get to his pedes, his movements graceful and elegant even as his field radiated rage and fear. Yoketron found his optics narrowing faintly at the way his every movement was soundless. There was no shifting metal as he rose, to whirring systems as his frame shifted and settled, so sound of pedes against wood as he got up and stood straight. It was…off. Not enough to make a normal mech think anything was wrong, but just enough to get Yoketron’s attention. Combined with his fangs, it was starting to paint a picture. Not to mentioned the slightly tapered finger tips he had noticed as he’d removed the stasis cuffs. Fingers that flexed and clenched, and Yoketron noticed a half-second flash of sharpened claws before those hands relaxed and returned to normal. Yes, he was most definitely starting to get an idea of what this mechling was.

“Hello, young one.” he rumbled. “May I ask what you were doing hiding on Dojo property?”

The youngling growled, shifting towards the door. Yoketron let him. “What do you think? Trying to stay out of the war.” he barked. “It’s not my fight, after all.”

Yoketron hummed. “Perhaps not.” he agreed. “But those in charge will not see it that way, and will see you as little more than a traitor for not answering the call to fight. I am taking a risk in doing so, but if you wish to avoid the fight them I can offer you another option.” he stepped towards the youngling, optics narrowing. “So long as you are willing to learn, I would take you on as my student.”

The youngling snarled. “Fat chance! I’m leaving.”

“Certainly.” Yoketron agreed. “If you can make it to the door before I stop you, then you will be free to do exactly that, and I will ensure any and all charges against you are dropped.”

The youngling eyed him dubiously, but seemed to decide the risk was worth it because he was transforming and taking off in the next second. It had been a silent transformation too, which had raised only further alarm bells. Yoketron waited until he was close to the door, and then he moved. In a flash, he appeared in front of the mech, and a hard kick sent him tumbling out of his alt mode. Another kick, and he was flying back into the cabinet, which fell on top of him. Yoketron walked over and heaved it off, crouching to pin the mechling by pressing a hand between his shoulderblades.

“You have potential, little one. But if you are discovered and caught by the authorities then that shall all go to waste.”

Abruptly, the struggling form under his palm stilled and tensed, all anger leaving his field to be replaced by fear. “…what do you want?” he whispered.

“Your name, youngling. I believe Cybertron has lost enough of your kin. I have no desire to see another perish unnecessarily. The rest of the planet may be blind to it, but I am well aware of how necessary you are to the functioning of our world.” Yoketron said calmly. The yougling’s actions had confirmed his suspicions. He truly was one of the fae, a breed of Cybertronian long believed to be only myth.

The youngling was shaking faintly now, obviously frightened. Yoketron couldn’t blame him. While most civilians thought the fae to be the subjects of story and myth, any mech involved in government or military knew they were real, albeit very, very rare. There was a reason for that, a very unpleasant one, and it certainly didn’t help that any fae were were discovered were often captured and simply…never seen again.

“You know what that would mean.” There was an agonized note to the youngling’s voice.

Yoketron felt a twinge of regret. He did know, and it wasn’t something he was eager to do. But given the circumstances, it would be the best way to ensure this one’s safety. “I do.” he confirmed. “I promise you I will not abuse it, youngling. I seek only to ensure your safety and to see you grow. I cannot simply allow you to go so easily, for if I did then I would be questioned as to why I did not bring you to the stockades and it would bring more attention to you. This way, you will remain safe.”

“Then why offer to let me go in the first place?” he demanded.

“I believed it would make you feel better to know you had at least made an attempt.”

The youngling abruptly went limp, his field still fearful, but now also tinged with a dull resignation that made Yoketron feel a little sick to his tanks. He did not want to do it like this, but for the mechling’s safety was truly the only option, with the way Cybertron currently functioned. “Give me your name, youngling.” he encouraged, voice gentling.

The young bot reset his vocalizer, and looked up to lock his visor with Yoketron’s optics. “My name is Prowl.” he answered, and he could hear the reluctance as the young bot spoke.

As Prowl gave his name to Yoketron, his optics glowed a bright white for a brief moment behind his visor before fading back to normal. Yoketron himself felt a small pull at his spark, recognizing it as the tether that now bound Prowl to him. He lifted his hand from the fae’s back, watching him slowly rose to sit up. “I take your name to be returned to you when your tutelage is done, Prowl.” he said, and the bond that was latched against his spark strengthened and solidified. “Go. Past the door on your right is a hall. Turn left at the end, past the door there, and you will find the berthrooms. The one with the black door is the student’s room. You may call it yours while you remain under my care.” he said, voice gentle. “Rest. I will clean up here. Tomorrow, your training begins.”

There was a tug on his spark, ans he realized quickly that he had worded that too close to an order when Prowl winced, cringing back from him but obeying nonetheless. Yoketron frowned, distaste curling in his tanks. He would have to learn how to word what he said very, very carefully so it could not be viewed as an order. He knew the bond he had established by taking the fae’s name meant that Prowl would be compelled to obey what he was told, but he had no intentions of abusing that. It would be wrong to do so.

The youngling stood, then turned and left through the door. Yoketron listened to his pedes fade away, and then he himself was standing. He hadn’t expected his day to go like this, and he disliked how he had had to take on his newest student, but he couldn’t regret having done so. He did not want to see another fae fall just because Cybertron’s elite refused to understand them. With a heavy sigh, he retrieved the broom from the corner and began cleaning. Tomorrow would be a long day.

——————————

Prowl found himself curled up in the berth after he had cleaned himself up in the washracks attached to the room. His spark felt heavy with the new bond tied around him, and he further tugged the mesh blanket wound himself as he thought about it. He hadn’t ever intended to get caught. He had snuck into the Dojo grounds because they looked mostly empty and he’d thought it’d be a good place to lay low while army “recruiters” were sweeping through the streets. The last thing he wanted was to be forcefully drafted. Being around so many mechs who he knew knew about the fae…well, he was good, but he also knew he’d probably have gotten caught eventually.

He had hidden himself well, even using magae to keep himself as undetectable as possible. But then that red mech, Warpath, had seen him as he’d been attempting to sneak into another area of the Dojo, and….that was that. He’d been swiftly pinned and cuffed, and when he’d kept trying to bite, the muzzle had been locked around his face as well. He hadn’t expected to be brought to the Dojo Master, and he had even less expected that the mech, Warpath had called him Yoketron, would know what he was. He was even more embarrassed about being caught because when Warpath left, he realized the large bot just visiting. But he had been caught, and Yoketron had trapped and bound him with his own magae, and now he was here. At least the older bot had promised that his name–and freedom–would be returned after he was finished being trained, but Primus only knew how long that would take.

It was days like this when Prowl loathed his heritage, loathed the fact he was a fae. He had been proud of it, once. Fae were beings of legend, after all. Stories said that in Cybertron’s early days, even before the great cities were built, fae and normal Cybertronians lived alongside each other. It was said that fae were gifted the abilities beyond that of a normal bot, including tapping into the world’s natural energies. They were able to feel this energy and occasionally draw on it to perform feats of great power. Fae also wielded their own unique form of energy, called magae, that allowed them to perform what most bots would call “magic”. Magae was what made up the entirety of a fae’s abilities, it was what made them fae. Magae came from a fae’s spark, was comprised of the energies and power of their own life force, and they could use it to connect to the sparks of other bots. Usually, that would entail taking a mech’s name and binding them to yourself. Though if one knew how, the process could be reversed, and a mech could take a fae’s name and bind them to themself, as Yoketron had done to Prowl.

He couldn’t blame the older mech. The part of his processor that was more logical could even be grateful. His reasoning had been sound, after all. There wasn’t really a way for Prowl to walk away from this without unwanted attention, without risking discovery. He knew what would have happened if he was discovered. The rest of Cybertron may have forgotten why the fae disappeared, but his people remembered. Fae had been powerful. Chosen by Primus to maintain the planet’s natural order and help ensure prosperity for His children, which included themselves. For a time, it had been fine.

But then mechs had begun to fear to extent of what fae could do, disliking that they were capable of tapping into the sparks of others. And so the fae had been hunted. To avoid extinction, his people had fled and disappeared, going to the shadows and staying there until they were eventually forgotten. They built up their own society, separate from the rest of Cybertron. Prowl remembered it, a little bit. He had been sparked there, but…somehow, he had gotten separated from his people and place of origin, and he’d never found his way back. It was hidden from the people of Cybertron, and any fae who got lost from it and didn’t know the way back would remain stranded outside forever.

That was what had happened to him. He didn’t remembered how, but…he did know his creators had been taken, or perhaps offlined, and they’d hidden him just before being caught. They’d never come back, and he had remained stranded from the place he’d been sparked in. After that, he was told he was found by a civilian family from Praxus, who brought him to a Youth Center there. Once he was big enough to take care of himself, he’d fled the Center, wanting to try and find his way home, but…he’d never been able to. He’d been in his own ever since.

Now, he was stuck, bound to a mech who claimed to want to see him safe and strong but he didn’t know if Yoketron was telling the truth. He could only hope he was. The alternative was that the old mech intended to use the bond for his own gain, or to turn him in, and Prowl…Prowl didn’t want either option. He sighed heavily, swiping a hand across his face, his visor set on the nightstand by the berth. His optics were a normal blue, though what made them stand out was the markings around his optics. It was why he wore the visor. The most distinctive features of what he was were his fangs and claws, but those were easy to hide, and the markings around his optics. Every fae had markings somewhere, he knew. He had just been unlucky enough to have them on his face.

The youngling sighed, forcing himself out of the increasingly depressing spiral. It couldn’t be changed. He just had to adapt and learn. He was good at that. He tucked himself into a tighter ball, knees pulled to his chest and mesh clutched tightly around his form. He closed his optics, trying to calm down enough to recharge. Today had been a very bad day. He just hoped the days to come wouldn’t follow in the pattern.

——————————

Prowl woke the next day to a quiet knocking on the door. He startled awake, feeling out of sorts and groggy as he pushed the blanket off him and sat up. That was when he remembered the events of the previous day, and he flinched away from the door and looked down. So, it was time to get up, he supposed. He sighed, then swung his pedes out of the berth and padded to the door. Upon opening it, he found the hallway to be empty, but he picked up the sounds of…something at the end of the hall, in the opposite direction of what he was thinking was the main room of the Dojo. He stepped out, closing the door behind him, and walked towards the noise. He came to a sliding door, and when he opened it he found what appeared to be some sort of dining room.

Yoketron was already there, setting two places at the table with fuel. When the door opened, the old mech looked up. “Ah, Prowl.” he greeted. “You look well, today. I am glad.”

Prowl squirmed uncomfortably, nodding. “I….yes.” he said lamely.

“If you wish, you may come and sit. I typically share morning fuel with my student before I begin lessons, when I have one under my care.”

Prowl blinked, realizing there was no order in that phrasing. Maybe Yoketron really wouldn’t take advantage? He nodded, sliding forward, closing the door behind him as he went, and sitting on the cushion provided. Yoketron hummed, satisfied, and went to the opposite end of the small table to take his own place.

“I wish to apologize, Prowl” he said. “Binding you to myself was not how I wished to take you on as my student, but from what I have learned of fae culture over my life I believed it to be the best way to ensure you remain safe and undetected.” he explained.

The two-wheeler looked uncomfortable, but he nodded regardless. “There’s nothing I can do about it.” he sounded resigned. “I get it, I suppose. I know how dangerous discovery is for one of my kind. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy.”

“And I would not ask you to be.” Yoketron said patiently. He swallowed down some of his fuel, his gaze locked on the lithe youngling nibbling at his own meal. “I only wish so see you survive and grow strong enough that you can defend yourself.”

He took no offense when Prowl didn’t answer, and they consumed the rest of their meal in silence. When they finished, Yoketron stood. “If you would, I would appreciate if you cleaned your dishes and followed me. I will show you were you can put them, and then we can move on to your morning lessons.”

Prowl nodded, gathering his now empty dishes and following the old mech. He noticed once more that Yoketron had not phrased his request in a way that it might be interpreted as an order, and he felt grateful. While he still wasn’t happy about how things had turned out, he was starting to believe that just maybe the bond wouldn’t be abused after all. And if Yoketron was really telling the truth, then Prowl would someday be able to keep himself safe. He still wasn’t sure of this situation, and he didn’t trust Yoketron, but if things continued to be like this then maybe his time here wouldn’t be so bad.

——————————

Prowl was meditating. He did so fairly often these days, as it made his natural energies settle in a way they usually didn’t. Fae were constantly connected to the energy of Cybertron, and sometimes it was nice to let own own spark settle in a more peaceful rhythm as he let the energy of his world wash over him and surround him. It had taken him a while to learn the patience to do this, but he was glad that he had eventually managed. His processor settled, ventilations deep and even as he blocked himself out from the outside world. Why should he not? He knew he was safe here. He had nothing to fear.

A hand pressed to his spinal strut, between his winglets.

He jerked, his processor snapping back to itself as his optics abruptly snapped open. He let out a loud, startled yelp, helm shooting around, and his gaze locking on mech who was smiling faintly, expression wry and amused.

“Master Yoketron.” he did not wheeze, thank you very much.

“Prowl.” His master greeted, tone warm. “I apologize for startling you. I thought you would wish to know that it is time for afternoon fuel. It would be best to take it, I believe. The lessons I have planned for the rest of this orn are rather difficult.”

Prowl released a heavy, relaxed vent. He nodded, the harsh light of his optics dimming behind his visor as his systems realized he wasn’t under attack. “Of course, Master. Thank you for coming to get me. I apologize for not keeping better track of the time.”

Master Yoketron only shook his head. “Of course, young one. I understand the importance of meditation. I would not think to force you to stop early when I can prepare the fuel myself.” he hummed. “Though,” he cast his student a look. “I would appreciate if you did continue to prepare the fuel with me, in most cases.”

Prowl nodded, standing up and following his Master out the door of the small meditation room and down to the dining hall. “I would not think to abandon one of my tasks, Master Yoketron.”

“No, I do not think you would.” The old mech agreed. They stopped in the dining room, taking their respective seats. After a moment of silent eating, Prowl’s mentor spoke. “You have come very far since you first came to this Dojo, Prowl.”

Prowl paused, drawing back a little under the intensity of the gaze pinned on him. Yes, he supposed he had. He still wasn’t pleased that his teacher had had to take his name and bind him to himself to get him to stay, but he understood. Besides, he had come to like it, here. The old cyber-ninja was kind and fair, and he had never once forced Prowl out of his comfort zone or tried to abuse the bond, not a single time in the vorns since the fae had been dumped at his pedes. He stayed now because he wished to, not because he was forced to. The bond was still active, and Yoketron still held his name, but he had come to see this place as home and no longer tried to trick the cyber-ninja into breaking the bond. His Master still held his name, but Prowl would stay even if he did not.

“I suppose.” the fae said after a moment. “I am grateful to you, Master Yoketron. Even if I am not pleased as to how it happened, I am glad you took me as your student.”

The older mech relaxed, expression softening. “Indeed, young one. I feel much the same.” he murmured. “Now, I believe it is time we finish fueling. It will be a long orn yet.”

Prowl nodded, then picked up his cube of energon and took a sip. He didn’t know what his future would hold, but he, for once in his life, looked forward to what the coming stellar cycles would bring.

——————————

The coming stellar cycles, it turned out, would bring one of Master Yoketron’s former students. A mech named Jazz, who according to his mentor was visiting the Dojo for the Festival of Adaptus, and he intended to stay for the full deca-cycle the Festival took place on, as he was granted leave by the Elite Guard to do so. Yoketron had told him that Jazz had been his most recent student before he had taken in Prowl, and that the young cyber-ninja was apparently quite eager to meet their shared mentor’s newest disciple. Prowl wasn’t opposed to the visit, not at all. But in the vorns since he’d come to the dojo, he had relaxed and become more at ease, and so his magae itself had also become less tense and volatile. All that really meant, though, was that, now that he knew he was safe and at home, his instincts would let him behave in the way he wanted to about the Dojo’s guest.

Jazz didn’t know Prowl was a fae. He didn’t even know that a fae was in the Dojo. Which meant Prowl would be able to really mess with the mech and confuse him while he was here. He didn’t let his more mischievous tendencies be known often, but Prowl was a fae, and his people reveled in tricks and mischief. And now that someone new was coming, someone who wouldn’t know to anticipate it like Yoketron knew to, after living with Prowl’s rare pranks?

Well, Prowl was going to have some fun with Jazz.

——————————

Jazz didn’t know what he was expecting when he met his old Master’s newest student, but it most certainly wasn’t for the lithe mech to thrust out a hand, palm up, and say:

“Hello. Master Yoketron has told me about you. Would you like to give me your name?”

Now, the phrasing of the had been real funky, but Jazz hadn’t had time to think on it or even to tell the mech his name before Master Yoketron was putting a hand over his mouth and shooting the black and gold mech a very unimpressed look. The two-wheeler had huffed, arms crossing.

“I wasn’t actually going to do anything, Master.”

And Primus, but he’d sounded petulant. Jazz still didn’t understand that whole interaction, but then Yoketron was stepping away and the bot offered his hand out again. “My name is Prowl, and you may use it as a friend.” he’d said.

Upon getting no reaction from the Dojo Master, Jazz had stepped forward and taken his hand. Again, very funky phrasing, but Jazz was starting to think maybe the mech himself was just from a different walk of life than he was. “Name’s Jazz.” he’d introduced himself, and thinking that the second part of Prowl’s introduction must be important to the mech, he’d found himself copying it. “Feel free to use my name as a friend.”

The words had tasted oddly stiff in his mouth, but before he could say anything more Master Yoketron was shooing his student off to do some chores, and then he’d led Jazz to the berthroom reserved for Dojo guests.

Which, was where the Polyhexian now found himself.

Except…the berth was stood vertical against the wall. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was how Master Yoketron was storing them when they weren’t in use? But then, why hadn’t it been put back horizontal before he had arrived? Jazz was very confused. He shrugged, moving to pull the berth back down. Maybe his old teacher had simply forgotten, though Yoketron had never forgotten anything before. Old age, then? Yeah, Jazz would sooner believe that Ultra Magnus enjoyed bar fights.

He still had no idea how the berth had gotten like that, but maybe things would make sense after recharge. So, he slipped under the mesh blankets and let himself slip into unconsciousness. He was sure things would be less confusing when he was operating at his full abilities.

The next morning did dawn, and Jazz had woken up making the choice to just forget about the berth incident. He might ask his mentor at a later date, but for now he’d focus on just enjoying his time at th old Dojo. He slipped out of his berthroom, remembering from his own training that right about now was when the morning fuel was prepared. Sure enough, he slipped into the kitchen to find both Dojo residents preparing their shares. Jazz went to do the same, and after a a breem all three of them were seated at the table.

Jazz turned to Prowl, smiling. “So, mech, how’re you liking it at the Dojo? I heard through the grapevine your arrival here wasn’t exactly ideal.” he offered, remembering what Warpath had told the rest of the cyber-ninjas.

Prowl paused. “…it was not ideal, you are right.” he confirmed. “I am grateful for Master Yoketron taking me under his care, however. I find the Dojo pleasant.”

Jazz chuckled. “You’re a pretty well-mannered mech, aintcha?” he teased playfully. “I’d almost think you came from nobility.”

Prowl, amusingly, looked very offended. “It does not do to be impolite.” he sniffed.

Jazz smiled. “I ain’t disagreeing with you. But you can relax, you get me?”

Prowl simply stared at him, then scoffed and returned to his meal. Jazz didn’t take it personally. Dai Atlas was pretty stiff too. Some mechs just preferred structure and formality. Yoketron, as he often was during mealtimes, was silent. The rest of their fuel was consumed in that silence, and then Prowl and the Dojo Master were cleaning up and going off to the morning lessons. Jazz remembered those. They had been very….straining. He stood, cleaning his own dishes and then going to mediate until the other two were done for the morning. Plus, he hadn’t been able to mediate properly for a while.

A couple joors later, Jazz was done and got to his feet. Yoketron ans Prowl should be finished by now too, he knew, and he decided to walk though the garden to get to the main hall. Except…there were some odd metalli-plants in the garden, arranged in a perfect circle. Jazz didn’t recognize them, and he found it odd that they were planted that way. He could also detect a very, very faint energy coming from the circle. Curious, he walked over, intending to get close and touch the plants to examine them, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

He looked back, seeing Yoketron, and his old teacher looked exasperated. “Prowl, I would appreciate if you would not attempt to trap Jazz in your circles.” he called out.

Prowl stepped out from the Dojo, almost looking like he was pouting, and the odd energy around the flowers disappeared. “You’re no fun, Master. I wouldn’t have done anything.” he grumbled.

Yoketron only shook his head, and invited Jazz to join them for some basic katas now that morning lessons were done. He agreed, but tacked that onto his mental list of weird things going on at the Dojo. He thought that would be the last time. It wasn’t.

That night, when he went to the washracks, the solvent came out mixed with glitter. Jazz barely avoided getting a very sparkly makeover. Then, the next orn, he kept getting lost. Master Yoketron had to rescue him from the meditation chambers after the 12th time he ended up there trying to get to the dining hall. After that, his Master having to stop Jazz from accepting fuel that Prowl had offered. Then, he’d woken the next orn to find his berth was gone. Just….gone. Even though he’d been in it. The odd things kept stacking up and up, until finally, half-way into his stay, he learned what it all was.

It was when Yoketron, Prowl, and he were fueling after the morning lessons. Prowl and Jazz were talking, and then Prowl had said the words that made Jazz feel very, very stupid:

“Words have power, Jazz, so of course phrasing is important in proper social interaction!”

He forgot what they were even bickering about, staring at the rotten little trickster in front of him with a gaping mouth. “You’re a fae.” he realized. How had he not figured it out sooner? Master Yoketron had taught him about the fae. All cyber-ninja knew about the fae! Then a new thought struck him. “You stole my berth!”

Prowl blinked, and he seemed to relax when Jazz’s reaction to the revelation wasn’t fear or an attempt to turn him in. Only indignation. “I will not apologize.” he deadpanned.

Jazz stared, and then a grin stretched his lips. “You clever, tricky little glitch.” he said playfully, enunciating each word. There was no genuine malice in his tone. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

——————————

Prowl snorted as Jazz regaled him with yet another story about his new superior officer, a mech called Sentinel Prime, and his immense stupidity. They were in Iacon, and it had been a long time since Prowl had been so far from the Dojo, which was in the outer edges on Praxus, on its own land. But he’d come to a pause in his training, as Master Yoketron had sent him on an optics quest. It was, apparently, a major test in the life of a cyber-ninja. It would allow him to discover what he wished to do with his life, as he was meant to travel and experience new things and explore, and when he had the answer he would return to the Dojo. And then he would begin a new level of his training, according to his teacher.

So he was in Iacon currently, enjoying an afternoon with Jazz. It had been many vorns since that fateful Festival of Adaptus, and the two young mechs had forged a strong bond. So when Prowl’s optics quest had brought him in the direction of Iacon, he’d commed the older mech and asked to be shown around. The fae was nervous about being so close to the headquarters of Autobot High Command, because he knew what they did to any of his kind they discovered, but he was confident in his abilities to remain hidden. Plus, he had Jazz, and he knew the white bot wouldn’t let him be put in danger.

They were sitting at Jazz’s favorite cafe, enjoying a selection of energon treats, when Prowl felt it. A tug at his spark. The bond he shared with Yoketron went two ways. The older mech held most of the control, but Prowl could still sense his mentor through it. It was one of the reasons he had come to accept it. And now…now, Yoketron’s spark felt like it was sputtering, like the mech it belonged to was in pain and his life was in danger. Prowl didn’t stop to think. He threw down a fistful on shanix, and then grabbed Jazz’s wrist and dragged him away.

His processor was racing desperately, and he couldn’t even manage to answer his friend’s questions. He dragged them to an empty alley, and then closed his eyes, focused on his magae, and dug deep.

Every fae had a pocket plane of their own. It was like a bot’s subspace, but it wasn’t a subspace and it was large enough for a mech to go in to. It was like…a small sub-world of sorts, and only a fae could access it, and each fae had their own. The sub-world could be used as a quick method of transport. As long as the location one was trying to get to was on the same planet as they one they had left from, then a fae could use to to travel large distances in almost an instant.

Prowl had never accessed his, before. Oh, he’d tried. Countless times. But he’d never been able to. But now…now he had to. It was the only way they could get to Praxus, to Master Yoketron. So he dug inwards, pushing far, far deeper into his magae than he’d ever done before…and he stepped forward. He came into his sub-world, bringing Jazz with him, and the other mech was silent now, gaping im shock. He kept going though, and focused on Praxus, on the Dojo, and stepped again. Then, they were there. Prowl stumbled as he came to a stop in the Dojo, releasing Jazz and tripping onto his face. He didn’t notice when his visor was knocked loose as he shifted his gaze to try and find his Master.

Prowl and Jazz were frozen for a single sparkbeat at the scene they’d come into. A large mech with a hook in place of one hand and markings on his face was standing over their mentor. For a moment, Prowl thought the mech was fae. But he detected no magae from him, and the moment passed.

That was when the rage came. He snarled, his engine roaring his anger, and his claws lengthened to their sharpest, his fangs sharpening to their longest, and the golden markings around his optics glowed a brilliant, pale silver while his optics themselves glowed white. He surged up, and in the next sparkbeat he was between the mech and his master. He extended a hand, deadly claws resting on the mech’s chest plate, and before that hook could swipe at him he peeled back his lips, put his magae into his voice, and hissed a command.

“Stop.”

It wouldn’t hold for long, he knew. Without the mech’s name, the order wouldn’t hold much power. So, Prowl used the physical connection, and pushed with his magae, digging with his very spark into the core of the mech’s being. He had to be careful, he knew. Like this, it would be so easy to destroy, to rip the mech’s very soul apart and kill his being without even extinguishing his spark. But Master Yoketron had always warned him against using his powers to hurt others, telling him he was meant for greater than causing pain and suffering. Even if Prowl didn’t believe that, he still wanted to honor his Master’s wishes and his lessons. So he didn’t rip and tear and rend, like the more feral of his fae instincts demanded. Instead, he dug in, until he had what he wanted, and wove a strand of magae into the mech’s spark energy to ensure the bond would take.

Then he pulled himself back, and as the mech regained mobility he met those red optics and bared his fangs. “I know your name, bounty hunter.” he spat. “I know who you are, and your name is mine until such time I decide it is mine no longer. I have your name , Lockdown, and with it I have you.” Claws dug into metal armor as the mech froze, optics blown wide with shock.

“You will stop this, and you will leave, Lockdown. Now.” Prowl ordered in a snarling hiss.

Lockdown was tense, but the bond that Prowl had tied around his spark and the hold of his name over him forced him to obey. He stopped, and he left. It was only when the Dojo was silent that Prowl began to calm. He sagged, slowly releasing a heavy vent, and turned to the other two mechs. Jazz had helped Yoketron sit up, his helmet already returned to him, and both were staring.

“Uh, mech? What’s with the light show?” Jazz asked softly.

“Light show?” And then Prowl noticed the lights.

Small, glowing spheres of light and energy filled the room. Dozens of them. He gasped, reaching out to the nearest one and tapping it. It burst into flame, and Prowl jerked back. The flame burned out, and a new light replaced the old. Prowl hesitantly tapped another of the spheres, and this one burst into mist. It was then he understood what this was.

Every fae had a unique magae ability. It seemed these spheres were his, and each of them did something different. But what was the use, if he didn’t know which did what? Except….he did know. Or at least, his spark did. This was an ability born from his magae, from his spark. So….if he let that guide him..he would know.

He took a deep vent, focusing, and his gaze locked on one sphere floating to his right. He cupped his hands around it, bringing it to his mentor, and crouched by the older mech. He held his hands out, the sphere glowing above his clawstips.

“This one should help you, Master.” he said softly.

Yoketron hummed, then reached out and pushed his fingers into the light. It flared, dancing up along his frame, and small cracks and wounds in his armor sealed up while the heavier injuries lessened slightly in severity. He perked up too, as if he was given a boost of energy, and was able to stand up on his own after a moment. Prowl and Jazz followed suit, but before either could say anything another form burst into the Dojo.

“Master Yoketron, are you-“ the mech cut himself off, staring at the scene. “….I saw smoke coming from the Dojo?” he said, uncertain.

Prowl tensed, optics narrowing, but Jazz slid in to calm the situation. “It’s alright. We managed to deal with it.”

The mech’s uncertain gaze looked around the Dojo, clearly confused at the lights, until his optics found Prowl. Then they lit up with understanding, and recognition. He obviously realized what the fae was. But…he stepped forward anyway, holding out a hand. “You’re Master Yoketron’s student, right? My name is Springer, and I give it to you freely to use as you wish, though I hope you would use it as a friend.”

Prowl startled, not expecting a mech to give his name so easily. He had to cut the tie to his magae so it wouldn’t try to latch on and bind the mech. He took the offered hand, careful of his claws. “You are well met, Springer, and I would be pleased to call you my friend. My name is Prowl, and I offer it to you to use as a friend in turn.” he said smoothly, then stepped back.

Jazz grinned, throwing an arm around Prowl’s shoulders. “Nice, Prowler! But are you ever gonna explain what in the Pit you did? Cause I’m still trippin’ over tryin’ to figure it out.”

Springer cut in. “As much as I’d like to know too, maybe now isn’t the best time. We should clean up before the Elite Guard figures out something went down here. Prowl, that means you might want to cut your magae off, we don’t want you getting found out.”

Prowl tensed, but nodded stiffly. He could do that. He took a vent, closing his optics and relaxing. After a moment, the spheres started winking out, and his fangs and claws returned to their hidden states. His optics and markings stopped glowing, and he opened his optics to look for his visor. He quickly noticed it was broken on the floor, and he was about to panic when Jazz caught his attention and held out his own visor. His optics were bare for once, and Prowl found himself staring in quiet awe for a moment before a resetting of a vocalizer from Springer snapped his focus back. He snagged up the visor, slipping it on and shooting Jazz a grateful look.

“Great!” the green mech was smiling. “Now, let’s figure out this mess!”

Prowl hummed. “I believe I have an idea. Springer, if you will, I believe you and I would be best suited for cleaning up here. Jazz, would you mind helping Master Yoketron?” A glance back showed their mentor leaning against the far wall, seemingly in a meditative state. “And call in a medic, his wounds still need to be treated.”

The other two glanced at each other, and for a moment Prowl thought they wouldn’t take orders from an ungraduated student, but to his surprise they nodded and got to work. Prowl felt himself smile, and fell into place with Springer to clean up the mess Lockdown had made of the Dojo’s main hall. He had been worried that he wouldn’t find his place once he graduated the Dojo and left his Master’s care, but he was starting to realize he would have a place after all. He would find his acceptance and his purpose in the Cyber-Ninja Corps and the mechs who he would one day call his brothers-in-arms. He was sure of that now. He looked forward to it. For once, Prowl knew that his future was bright, and he was eager to meet it head on.

(Yoketron watched his youngest student interact with two of his others, and felt pride swell in his spark. Prowl had come so very far from that first orn, when he’d been a half-feral youngling trying to flee the world itself. He’d known he had made the right decision in choosing his successor when he’d seen how Prowl handled Lockdown, and when he’d seen how easily and freely he had accepted Springer as a comrade. Prowl was going to far surpass him one orn, was going to be a far better Master of the Cyber-Ninja Corps than he ever was. Yoketron couldn’t wait to see it.)

———————————————————————————————————

And there it is! What did you think? I hoped you liked it. I had fun. I like it. Fae Prowl is a little troll and you can’t convince me otherwise. Anyway, that story is finished! Yoketron lives, because I said so. Also, Prowl and Jazz totally become a thing later. Absolutely no one is surprised.

Aaaaannd…I think thats it! Yep, I’ve said the important stuff.

Until next time, folks!

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desdemonafictional · 3 years

Text

Dulcimaeus Prime Coda

I don't know if I'll ever get this thing done enough to publish but here's my wip because I'm tired of looking at it

Prowl watched from the other side of the office as Jazz picked up Orion Pax and swung him around, both of them laughing delighted and relieved, wobbling and shouting when Jazz lost his balance. The jubilation was well deserved by any measure. They’d been working on the labor reform bill since before the Transition of Primacy was even announced, up late nights in Jazz’s secure palace housing, blinking blearily when Prowl came knocking at first light. The congratulatory email blinking on Orion’s discarded datapad might be considered the first great victory of the Dulcimaeus Prime reign.

They looked happy, together.

There was all sorts of work to be done, endless torrents of it--Prowl’s job now was basically anything Jazz needed it to be, but in particular he had a meeting with Law Enforcement Budget and Revenue tomorrow, to talk about the reallocation of resources to newly created departments, and he was expecting them to dig their heels in hard until the audacity of Prowl’s proposal finally wore them down. He could be preparing for that. He wasn’t.

He was watching Jazz and Orion as they spun. He was thinking of the rooftop where he and Jazz had once danced, above the star-pricked city, and how uncertain he had felt. How ungraceful, how ignorant.

Orion and Jazz moved together like a paired set, even wobbling together, in sync.

Prowl told himself that it was good and proper and should be so. Orion had known Jazz much longer than Prowl. Even Megatron had known him longer, even though Megatron didn’t seem at all thawed by it. Prowl was a newcomer, a transfer, and it was right and natural that Jazz should spend his affection with Orion Pax, rather than Prowl.

He spent the brief formative period of his friendship with Jazz in whirlwind isolation, just the two of them. He’d been on the inside of each plan and scheme, although he’d put himself there by force, he’d been in on everything and it was just the two of them and now Orion was here too and Orion had known Jazz for much longer and they used to live together and Prowl didn’t know why that made him want to drag Jazz off and hide him in a closet somewhere--

Prowl abruptly put down his notepad and stepped out into the hall, where it was cooler and quieter and the sounds of laughter didn’t make his body ache so.

He’d had hopes… when they first started this mad venture, they were all so busy all the time, Prowl hadn’t thought it strange that Jazz never approached him. But then the weeks had worn on, and the load didn’t lighten but they did learn how to shoulder it better, and then Prowl began to wonder… when would Jazz finally come to him and ask him for intimacies?

Prowl had tried looking appealing in every way he knew how. Careful self maintenance, unprofessional flatteries--he’d even, to his own shame, tried that trick of stroking and exposing his own array covers, when he thought Jazz might be watching. All that had gotten him was a sympathetic question about aches.

Prowl let his head fall back against the wall of the corridor. He felt very stupid, and very unwanted. For the first time he had a superior officer he wanted to service, and that superior seemed to have no interest in him at all.

Jealousy is bad for the team, the stern little voice in Prowl’s processor reminded him. Guilt panged at the inside of his spark. His Prime was forming a team, and it was Prowl’s job to support that cohesion in whatever way he could. Jealousy was not supportive. His coding must be broken--he’d never felt this way before, not with any of his previous assignments, not with any of his previous teammates or officers.

Becoming exclusive with a mech from outside the force was regarded with extreme suspicion, and it wasn’t much better to ask from exclusivity from someone within it--one was not supposed to split one’s loyalties. Enforcers were meant to be part of a cohesive team.

He’d often wished that Barricade would pay more attention to anyone else around the precinct. He felt--they all felt--that there was something inappropriate about a superior showing so much attention to one single subordinate. It was lacking in propriety, or good judgement of team dynamics. Prowl had especially not enjoyed the unspoken, implicit blame he received from his peers, for causing such disorder.

Why should he now ache to be pulled aside and treated again thusly?

The door clicked open, and Orion Pax poked his head out. “Hey,” he said, “we’re all getting drinks to celebrate. Wrap up your things and let’s go in five.”

Prowl stiffened. The idea of going out for drinks with his team was an achingly appealing one--something he’d been unable to do comfortably at his last posting, due in part to Barricade’s sour influence and also partly to Prowl’s dismal personality. He wanted this. He wanted…

One drive and a sit-down later, and Prowl found himself at the end of a table between his superior on one side and Orion Pax on the other.

The restaurant was famously the first choice of Primes for several regencies, due to its defensible private rooms, nearness to the Capitol complex, and high quality engexes. In fact, although it had a name, most mechs in the neighborhood simply called it the Prime’s bar.

And currently the cosiest back room was occupied by only Orion Pax, Prowl, and the recently coronated Dulcimaeus Prime.

“Well!” Jazz laughed, and lifted up the tiny cup of potent lavender engex. “I can’t fraggin believe it, but we done did it! A quartex of processor aches fully worth it to see Senator Proteus suck my secondary port, if you’ll pardon the Quintesson.”

Prowl gave a little shiver at the unexpected filth. The liquid in his cup rippled.

“To my mech Orion Pax,” Jazz toasted, “who believed so hard in this crazy scheme that I started to believe in it myself.”

Prowl drank as he was supposed to, although the drought went down bitter.

“Yes,” he muttered, as he set his cup back down on the table and reached for the narrow pitcher to refill it. “Orion Pax. Truly the first among equals.”

Orion gave him an uncomfortable sidelong look.

“Would that we all had the grace and wisdom of Orion Pax,” Prowl went on muttering. There was something black twisted up in his throat that no amount of engex could seem to burn out.

#transformers #Jazz Prime AU

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that-one-weeb-but-it-transformer · 4 years

Text

𝔻𝔸𝕋𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕌𝕃𝕋ℝ𝔸 𝕄𝔸𝔾ℕ𝕌𝕊 𝕎/ ℍ𝕌𝕄𝔸ℕ ℙ𝔸ℝ𝕋ℕ𝔼ℝ (𝕋𝔽ℙ)

Hes one of my favorites not sorry

-guess who got spotted? Ultra Magnus

-well we're taking you back to the base

-he found you extremely childish and it annoyed him to a T

-And of course Optimus appointed him as your partner

-yay for him-

-Once he actually- finally- for god saken- took the time to actually get to know you, he didnt find you as annoying

-you were being bullied one day outside the school and the bulky threw you into the side of Magnus' alt mode- the door suddenly went flying open must've been a bad bolt

-Not to long after the same group of bullies keyed Magnus' alt form:

"Aw shes gonna cry!" One of the boys teased.

"Why? Did your sugar daddy tell you if you wreck it you'll actually have to do something for them." Another spoke.

"Aw. I knew she was a-"

The thrid boy was grabbed by the throat as his hands clawed at the wrist of the teen who held him, causing the other two to back up slightly.

"Touch any of my shit again and I'll bury you myself."

She threw him to the side, catching himself on his feet he held his neck with a hand, gritting his teeth he glared at her.

"Who do you think your talking to!?" He argued, catching the attention of kids near by.

She turned to look at him just to be punched in the face falling to the floor from the sudden force that knocked her off her balance.

"Dude! The hell! Your gonna get us in trouble!" One of the boys shouted.

The teen ignored him toppling over Y/n straddling her stomach, as he delivered brutal puches to her face. Kids started to gather cheering on the male as Y/n pushed him off her and return the favor, causing and either louder up roar."

"I told you!" She shouted punching him in the face.

"Don't!"

A broken nose

"Touch!"

A black eye

"My!"

A busted lip

"Shit!"

Her final blow was stopped when teachers pulled them apart.

"You broke my nose!" The teen cried.

"Well then go cry to your mom who I fucked last night!"

-Did Magnus just see what he thought? The seemingly innocent cheerful girl looking more scarrier than a decepticon out with a bloodlust

-he waited until you were able to come out- even though the kids had informed him via comn link she'd go home with her parents- you came out alone, him being the only thing there:

"I don't want to go with you today Magnus."

"I'd prefer if you did come with me." Magnus stated

Y/n frowned as she looked at the deep key job.

"Im not allowed back for a week."

"I figured so."

The door opened as Y/n only followed as she hopped in.

-did he- did he just be n i c e?!

-Instead of taking you to the street corner as usual he took you. He drove you around, mindlessly

-you ended up falling asleep so he took you back to base, unknowing of what to do with you, he he held your small form in his large servo, luckily nurse June had showed up sometime before to help with something and she was able to lay you down on the couch.

-Optimus has asked what happened as you were littered with brusies and cuts, Magnus explained and took full blame but Miko backed him up

-Magnus said one of the humans should contact Y/n's parents- Nurse June looked worried as she knew you were lacking in the depart of family.

-so she advised to keep her in base saying , "well if they didnt even bother to pick her up why worry right?

-Everyone found that extremely off as a cover June said: "well you like her right? She'll tell you whats wrong?"

-Arcee choked at that sentence, Ratchet actually laughed, wheeljsck was given ammo to fuel is annoyingness, Bulkhead was extremely uncomfortable, the two youngsters were like "hold up" and Optimus like a proud dad- brother- figure thing- smiled to himself

-Magnus was completely embarssed but kept it under wraps.

-miko was completely shocked when she figured it out

-"Magnus go scout" "thank you sir"

-you woke up to a dark room looking around you seemed to be on a cot, and Ultra Magnus was sleeping in the berth above you- wait- WHERE YOU IN HIS ROOM?!

-He woke up as soon as he heard you wake up.

-it was only silence at first, but he ended up thanking you in a way, saying it was arrogant but brave of you

-you thanked him for helping you as well

-cue the speaking at the same time

-confession was kinda werid tbh:

"So..." y/n spoke.

"Suppose you know about me then? All of it?" Y/n asked, "Im sure Nurse Darby told you."

"No, nothing was said about you." Magnus spoke.

"Oh...good...good."

It was silent for a few mintues the air thick and the only thing used as a light source was Magnus' bright optics.

"If you wish you can tell me." Magnus informed.

"Right..." y/n breathed in, "My uh mother...she died while I was being born....my dad commited a murder-suicide, he said it was my fault in his will."

"I am sorry." Magnus spoke softly then paused for a long second, "How do you do it?"

Y/n looked up at him, "do what?"

"Your as enetergic and as arrogant as Rodimus, your sparks would be one in the same." Magnus told, "but your well rounded as if you were a high ranking assistant to Alpha Trion. Then you deal with what would take most well trainned mechs off the feild."

Y/n shrugged, "I suppose..." y/n paused, "I dont want anyone else to leave me, it's tiring being alone."

Magnus answered awfully quick, "I would never leave you, you have too much meaning in my life."

-Woah wait! He didn't but did mean that!

-you ended up asking who Rodimus was and you both talked through the night.

-you guys were closer than ever after that

-he attempted to tell you out more straight forward but failed for a while

-when he finally told you- you were all like: Oh I know

-cue dating??????? Poor man hes so confused

-nothing changed much he loved being with you either way- with dating he just became more and more worried for each other

-Acree has extreme suspicions of you two

-you guys were going good, open with one another and honest, it was a pretty loving relationship

-that "Im Lutenit" shit dont slide with you

-you guys like driving in the rain, he especially like it if you've calmed down from a hetic week and fell asleep getting the resr you deserve

-when he lost his hand in combat and had it replaced with a new one you went to a tattoo shop and asked for stitching as if someone has stiched your fingers back together, you proceeded to go up to Magnus afterwards and tell him you guys were just alike now

-He got angery you hurt yourself- well he thought you hurt yourself- he couldn't stay mad at you

-Guess who squared up on the predaking? You and this is how it happened:

Magnus had been knocked to the side with the two wreckers. You who had came our from behind a Boulder shouted at the dino-mechanism

"Hey You!"

The giant beast looked towards you, "yeah you!"

Rushing its way over it screeched in Y/n's face, "Oh blow it out your ass!"

The schreeching stopped as Y/ns arms crossed

"How dare you!-" and you raged ON.

-The predaking is now warry of the autobots

-Wheeljack was given even more ammo to mess with Ultra Magnus now knowing you two were dating

-except Ultra Magnus to see you in a whole knew light of being a strong hooman and finding it absolutely memorizing and beautiful

#tfp headcanons #ultra magnus #Ultra Magnus tfp #transfomers prime #transformersprimeultramagnus

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shi-daisy · 3 years

Text

Bitter Night

Hello everyone! Sorry I'm late again but sad fics are hard to make and I was slow 😅 Anyway have this small angsty prequel to my previous two entries. Hope you like!

Continuity: Fan continuity. Prequel to 'Mutual Enduring' and 'Sweet Torture'

@wavewave-week

Wavewave Day 6- Alert/Escape

The sound of alarms filled his head, still Soundwave rushed through the dark corridors of the building.

The last distress signal he'd received from his beloved came from this very place, and if things were as he expected then Shockwave was in great danger.

Soundwave finally reached a room. The metallic doors were locked shut, but that didn't stop him. Without any weapons he tore through the door. Only to be at the reciving end of a blaster.

He recognized the golden gaze he loved so much, although this time one of the eyes was dulled, and the scent of blood was strong. "Shockwave?"

At the mention of his name, Shockwave lowered the weapon. His expression was blank as was his tone. "Soundwave, is it you?" The scientist started at him, as if he didn't know him well.

"Yes it's me. What...what happened?"

"I was taken prisoner by the Senate and given to their scientists, they've experimented on me. I do not know the full effects of their machinations but regardless I've eliminated the ones responsable."

In the dimly lit room he could see blood upon the walls and mangled bodies on the floor. 'This- this isn't anything like him! Shockwave's not a violent man...'

This strange personality frightened him, but there was no time to think about that. Soundwave could hear people heading towards them. He took Shockwave's hand, it was icy cold.

"We must escape, Shockwave prepare to fight."

"Understood."

Shockwave never fought, not if he could help it. And when he was forced to he tried to end things without shedding any blood. Instead of acting that way now, he simply cut through to the lines of sentinels that came for him and Soundwave.

While this meant they could make a cleaner escape, it did nothing to lessen Soundwave's worries. His beloved was still covered in blood, scarred on both his face, arms and neck, likely tortured to the brim of insanity. Worse so, he might've been a victim of shadowplay.

The moonlight was faint, as rain clouds covered the night sky. Mere meters away from the entrance of the building, Shockwave collapsed.

"Shockwave!" Soundwave quickly went to assist him, even if the scientist protested.

"I think the blood loss is getting to me. Perhaps it's best if you leave me."

"Like hell! I'm going to carry you!"

"We need to be alert, this might prove a liability. It's illogical for you to carry me."

"Though luck, but I'm not leaving you!"

The sound of sentinels got close, but Soundwave was determined to escape.

Shockwave didn't protest further. Having to sneak around carrying someone was difficult, but Soundwave's experience as a spymaster was enough to get them to safety.

The Deception base was empty save for Megatron and the group of medics. He made sure to hand Shockwave off to them before reporting to Megatron.

His boss listened to every detail, trying not to wince at what he was hearing. "We'll have to wait for the medics to tell us what his condition is for certain. But I fear it could be indeed shadowplay."

Yes. He was almost certain too. And it broke his heart. The way Shockwave spoke to him so coldly, his empty expression, the bloodlust, the complete disregard for anything that wasn't logical, it was more than enough proof that the mech he loved was likely gone forever.

Monochrome came through the door, her eyes said everything he needed to know. "I'm sorry." she apologized. "Not even a neurosurgeon could reverse the effects now without killing him. This...it's beyond vile. At physically he'll heal but remain scarred and his right eye is gone for good."

Soundwave didn't say anything even if both Megatron and Monochrome were calling his name. All he could hear was static filling his ears.

Megatron left the room, to speak with Shockwave while Monochrome stayed with him. She led him to a bench and sat by his side, gently stroking his hair. "Sweetie, please speak to me. Please tell me where it hurts."

"Everything hurts! Chromie, he's gone! It's as if he was dead!" Soundwave couldn't hold back the tears anymore. "My Shockwave is hurting and I don't know how to help him!...I was too late."

"No sweetie. This isn't your fault. I'm certain Shockwave dosen't blame you. Besides if you had arrived earlier it's likely you would've been tortured as well. This as horrible as it is, was the best outcome."

Even with Monochrome soft touch he couldn't be comforted. Soundwave reached into his pocket, retrieving a small box. "I was going to ask him to meet today, to go stargazing...then I was going to give him this."

He opened the box to reveal a silver ring with a blue topaz and amethyst encrusted on top.

Monochrome gasped and her eyes began to water. Understanding what her friend had planned. "Oh...Oh sweetie. I'm so sorry."

He cried again. Thinking about the life they were going to miss out on. "He was my whole world. How am I supposed to go on."

"He's still here Soundwave. You can still go on. If you're willing to endure for his sake."

She was right, this was a silver lining however, his dear Shockwave was still alive, and wether he loved him or not, Soundwave would keep on protecting him.

The doors were opened again. Megatron came in, with Shockwave close behind. "Shockwave has pledged alliance to the Decepticon cause once again, he'll remain here for the time being."

Looking at his sparkmate like this still made his him uncomfortable. Now that the blood had been cleaned and his wounds were patched up, there was a glimmer of similarly between this Shockwave and the one he loved. 'Stop, even if he's like this, you still love him.'

"If that's the case, he can stay with me. Would you be okay with that, Shockwave?"

"That seems agreeable."

"Then, I'll show you to your room."

He bid both Megatron and Monochrome goodnight before leaving with Shockwave. It was strange to walk beside him without holding his hand, but Soundwave resisted the urge to do.

"Soundwave, have you been crying?"

"Yes. Don't worry, I'm fine now."

"Emotions can be a hindrance, but I suppose now that we're safe it's best you unwind."

It hurt to hear him say that, when he was often the one to dry his tears and reassure him. But Soundwave hid his pain behind a smile.

"I suppose you're right. I'll keep that in mind. We're here."

The room of the base had two beds, even if Soundwave didn't have a roommate. Ravage was sleeping on his cat bed while Buzzsaw and Laserbeak were perched on their bird cage.

"The pets won't bother us. They sleep in early."

"That's fine. Animal companions are useful. It's logical to keep them happy."

"Glad you're fine with it. Goodnight Shockwave, if you need anything just let me know."

"Thank you. Goodnight to you as well, Soundwave."

The lights went off, and Soundwave had never felt so alone being in the same room as his beloved.

***

He couldn't sleep, not when he was supposed to stay alert. The people who'd nearly killed him were still out there, and while trusted Megatron he still had suspicions that this base wasn't the safest place to hide.

Shockwave heard groaning coming from the other bed. Soundwave was fussing in his sleep. His eye fell upon the blue haired man, the only person he could properly remember.

Everyone else was a blurr, but Soundwave's name, voice and face he remembered vividly. Even now, he felt as if he could act on instinct in regards to his roommate.

Shockwave got out his bed, kneeling down in front of Soundwave's. He gently stroked the blue locks that covered Soundwave's face, and kept on doing so until Soundwave calmed down.

"Shockwave? Are you alright?"

"Yes. You seemed to be in distress so I wanted to calm you."

"That's nice of you. It was just a nightmare. I'm fine just a little restless."

"It is logical to be restless after such a harsh night. I haven't been able to sleep myself."

"Would you like to stay with me? Maybe that'll help us stay calm."

It was an odd suggestion but he found himself accepting. He climbed onto the bed beside Soundwave, who fell asleep almost immediately after. Shockwave felt tempted to get closer to him. Soundwave radiated a warm calm energy that he felt drawn to.

Maybe one day he'd figure out what this man truly meant to him, but for now all he wanted to do was rest.

#wavewave week #wavewave #tf shockwave #tf soundwave #tf Megatron #tfoc monochrome #mini fic #tw: torture

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the-odd-job · 3 years

Text

Close Your Eyes to This Disaster Chapter 5: What Have I Done?

Rating: Explicit Warnings: Chose Not to Use, Rape/Non-Con Category: Other Fandom: Transformers G1 Relationships: Megatron/Sunstreaker, Megatron/Sideswipe, Sideswipe & Sunstreaker Characters: Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Ratchet, Prowl, Optimus, Ironhide, Jazz Additional Tags: Dubcon, Sticky, Abusive Relationships, Mind Games, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Canon-Typical Violence Words: 4118

( Previous )

They didn’t contact the Ark after Soundwave lifted the jam over their communications systems. What were they supposed to say? They had no idea. Maybe they would know once things weren’t so fresh, but as things stood…

So, instead of letting a single spark know about what had happened, they sat side by side on the open field for the better part of an hour, going through their newly reacquired memory files, and Sunstreaker staring at the trickle of fluids seeping from his valve. They dried slowly.

He needed a wash. Especially after getting ‘faced on the dirty ground–

…He needed a wash.

Instead they sat in silence, trying to just make sense of this turn of events. They couldn’t change the past even if the memories made it difficult to understand why their relationship with Megatron had even been a thing–

But he was one to talk when even the present him hadn’t done what he was supposed to do, what the smart thing would’ve been.

He’d slagging… Fragged the mech. Or gotten fragged by him—technicalities when the truth was that he hadn’t… Disliked it. His spark was still abuzz with all manner of emotions that weren’t even supposed to exist, but that grew more undeniable the longer he looked at them. He wasn’t ready to call the mess love, but it wasn’t… Inconsequential. There was affection.

Why was there affection?

What was wrong with him?

They came no closer to answers no matter how long they sat there and eventually Sideswipe roused them with a quiet, “Should head back. They’ll want to… Want to know what happened.”

Back to the Ark, looking as they did—like something had happened. They had answers to some of the command’s questions now, at least, and they would need to… Report all of this. Somehow.

Though maybe without going into his personal crisis. How much detail they would give outside of that they could decide on later, once the time came.

Sunstreaker nodded and after he’d transformed his modesty panel back in place, they cleaned away the evidence of his little frag session before returning to the road. They were a little past the midway point of their patrol so they didn’t turn around, but rather continued onward after some… Extremely painful transformations. Sunstreaker especially.

At least they could still transform and drive, though, despite the damage they’d taken. Their ability to drag their own afts back meant they didn’t need to contact the Ark just yet. Or, ever. They kept their comms off the whole way back to the Autobot base, content to live in ignorance and not know if someone was trying to contact them. With the speeds they had traveled the first portion of the patrol route, they weren’t going to be late even with the… Delay, or the fact they weren’t driving their usual speeds on their way back—both because they were both in varying amounts of pain, and because they weren’t looking forward to whatever might happen upon their return.

Mostly because of the latter.

But they couldn’t dawdle forever and ever, and slowly but steadily their distance to the Ark decreased until they were driving over the desert surrounding the ship. Closer and closer, to the point they made visual contact with the mostly buried vessel—and the lone figure silhouetted against the light coming from the open entrance.

It turned out to be Prowl, his wings held stiffly behind him as they approached–

But they fanned in surprise when the Ark’s light touched the brothers and mercilessly revealed their less than stellar condition. Sunstreaker grit his denta through his transformation back to his bipedal mode as parts scraped against each other in ways they definitely weren’t meant to, torn plating screeching as it was forcefully shifted into its other configuration.

He met Prowl’s optics with challenge in his own, daring the damn mech to say something about the state of their frames.

Prowl didn’t comment on it though. “Ratchet,” was the only word he spoke. He needn’t say more than that, anyway. They needed repairs and when the SIC stepped aside to let them past him, the twins didn’t do more than head inside—without so much as an impish comment from Sideswipe.

He could just see Prowl’s frown from the corner of his optic before they’d passed him.

They were leaving drips of energon and who knew what else behind them as they walked the halls towards the medbay, but they were on their own pedes and moving under their own power. That was good enough. Luckily for them, they saw no one else before they’d reached the medbay doors that parted with a hiss. Ratchet was already waiting for them, arms across his chassis and face stern. Prowl had probably let him know he could expect visitors.

The medic had one look at them, his expression tightening all the more from what he saw. “Megatron?” he asked even as he ushered the brothers to medical berths, ready to triage their injuries.

“Yeah,” Sideswipe confirmed. They laid down and… Said nothing more.

Ratchet filled the silence, anyway. “Didn’t I slagging tell you to not come back to my bay because of him?” he growled at them, thoroughly scanning them both before he focused on Sunstreaker, likely because his injuries were slightly more severe. Megatron knew how to hurt.

And yet, it could’ve been so much worse, damage wise. He could’ve been dead.

“You were kept from longer patrols for a reason,” Ratchet continued, removing and transforming pieces of Sunstreaker’s plating away to take a look underneath with surprising caution. The fact he wasn’t even half as rough as he usually was said a lot.

Indeed, everyone knew he could’ve died. That he, frankly, should be dead after something like that.

“No one wanted to risk Megatron succeeding in whatever he wanted to do with you, for your own damn good—but no, you cannot possibly listen. Did you even think? You knew he was gunning for you, but off you were anyway! Oh, and Cliffjumper and Brawn are in hot water too because of you, not that I expect you to care.”

Sunstreaker stared at the ceiling and let Ratchet do his thing and say his piece. The medic quieted suspiciously once he started on the damage on his chest, transforming his armor aside, then his protoform too when the damage ran deeper than he expected. He didn’t really react, but Sunstreaker still knew the exact moment Ratchet came by the damage to his spark chamber. He made sure it wasn’t about to off him—it wasn’t—then… Placed his servos on the berth next to Sunstreaker’s frame and leaning onto them—looking at him, searching his face.

Sunstreaker reluctantly met his optics. “Twins,” Ratchet said, too quietly to go well with his usual demeanor.

But then, this wasn’t his usual demeanor. “What happened?”

The big question.

Sunstreaker’s gaze shifted back to the ceiling. They tried to think of what to say, how to start—because there was the what, but more important felt the why. Besides, he wasn’t too eager to talk about the fragging. It wasn’t necessarily damning depending on his own response to it, but… That was the problem. Why it wouldn’t be damning.

Yeah, he didn’t really want to go there. He still had his pride.

But that was only what he wouldn’t say. What would he say?

He reset his vocalizer several times in indecision—almost said one thing, then decided against it. Almost said another thing, but on the last second decided against that too. Ratchet didn’t rush him, surprisingly.

They gave up on finding the perfect words, eventually, and just spoke. “Did you know I was Megatron’s lover?”

That didn’t look to be what Ratchet had been expecting, if the way his optical ridges shot up and he leaned back was anything to go by. Sunstreaker couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t what they had been expecting, either.

“What? When?” the medic asked after he’d recovered some, leaning back in. Sunstreaker didn’t meet his optics this time, just stared at the bright orange ceiling, counting the scratches he already knew by spark.

But he answered. “In the Pits.” It wasn’t a secret they had been Pit fighters. It was part of their reputation even if… Even if they hadn’t actually remembered it. Weird as that detail was, it had always been undeniable that their fighting style screamed gladiator. The war had further refined their skills, but anyone who knew their shit couldn’t claim it wasn’t clear as day that they had gotten their education in the Pits. What had claimed their conscious memories hadn’t done so to the subconscious, background ones. Something had been left behind in that near total wipe.

A wipe that wasn’t as permanent as they had always thought. “Ratchet?” Sideswipe spoke up, prompting the medic to glance over his shoulder at him. “Did you know part of my memories were locked away?”

Again Ratchet looked surprised, but then nodded, carefully. “Yes. It’s in your restricted medical files and I’ve looked at them myself.”

The twins frowned. “Why did you never tell me they weren’t completely gone?” Sideswipe asked.

Ratchet frowned too. “You had already spent most of the war without them and didn’t seem to be adversely affected by their absence. Depending on what they contained… You could have had an adverse reaction—that could have distracted you to the point you wouldn’t function at your best anymore.”

And were possibly killed as a result, they could conclude that much without Ratchet stating it directly. Their best had kept them alive. If they didn’t have that anymore?

“You should have still given me the choice,” Sideswipe said with half a growl. Primus, why was everyone, anyone, every time, anytime, always so eager to take their choice from them? They could’ve gone without that being the repeating theme in their damned life.

Ratchet was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t. I should have given you the option to remember, despite the potential cost.”

His field flared, confirming the apology was genuine, that the words were sincere.

But Ratchet was only one in a long line of medics they had had poking around in their systems. Any one of them could have offered them their memories back.

No one had. And despite this one matter… Ratchet was still the best they’d had.

Their number one medic cleared his vocalizer, glancing between them. “Did something happen to those memories? Can you access them now, somehow?”

Both twins nodded. “It’s what Megatron wanted,” Sunstreaker was the one to answer out loud. “For me to… To remember him. Soundwave restored them.”

“You put up a fight, first,” Ratchet said the most obvious observation in the world, looking back at Sunstreaker’s frame. His optical ridges drew down very low. “He didn’t offer, did he?”

They snorted. “One guess,” Sideswipe said, and just that was enough to turn Ratchet’s mouth into a thin line. By the common estimate it wasn’t really Megatron’s style to ask before he did what he wanted to do. As much as they now knew about some other sides the warlord also had… The basics were still the same.

But there was also… “Ratch, did you know what was in those memories?”

Ratchet shook his helm. “No. They were inaccessible even with a cipher without the patch I assume you got. If I had known…”

He trailed off, but they could assume there were several ways that could’ve potentially gone down. Maybe it would’ve been reason to give them the memories, or it could’ve been a reason to intentionally withhold them; maybe it would’ve made them suspect or seen as risk factors for the nature of the relations they’d had.

Maybe it could’ve been something else.

“Do you remember all of it, now?” Ratchet asked.

They nodded. “Far as I can tell, yeah. At least it’s all on a timeline that actually makes sense. What… Why did we even lose those memories? Did it have something to do with the slave coding?”

Ratchet straightened, displeasure written on his face and in his field likely due to the mention of the coding—but he didn’t look surprised. That was really answer enough. “Yes. Your record says that the removal of the slave coding from your systems corrupted the memory of the entire time you had the coding. The medic that performed the operation didn’t even try to restore them.”

And no one after that had done so either, not even Ratchet, but that was where it had all begun. They frowned. “Why not?”

“According to his written explanation, he ‘didn’t see it necessary’,” Ratchet said with air quotes, “and that ‘the memories could be traumatic’, so ‘patients are likely better off without them’. Mind you, he had no immediate way to restore them, anyway, so I expect getting you in fighting condition and on the field as soon as possible also played a role. The fix was only discovered later.”

Ah, priorities. Sunstreaker growled to himself. “Waste of time to make sure some gladiators have their memories, huh?”

“Apparently. And I fell into the same hole without thinking—again, I apologize for that. Megatron shouldn’t have needed to step in for you to get them back.”

It was probably too late to slag that original medic. Most of their species was straight up dead and chances were he was among those numbers, rather than in the ranks of the few hundred still living.

But oh how satisfying it would have been to give him a painful piece of their mind. True, their lack of memories hadn’t bothered them or come with any unfortunate side effects that they knew of, but those were their fragging memories. They had a right to them!

“I agree.”

It was only after Ratchet spoke that they realized Sideswipe had ranted out loud. His mouth snapped shut on that stroke of self-awareness, but at least they hadn’t divulged anything important in their distraction.

Their medic sighed and scanned Sunstreaker’s frame again, as if he didn’t already have all the readings. “If you’ll let me, I’ll have a look that the memory patch is working as it should, and after you’re repaired, the command would like to have a meeting with you to sort this mess out. Are you alright with that?”

About what they expected. The twins nodded their agreement and Ratchet got to work.

——————————————————

Soundwave had done a perfectly good job with the restoration of their memories, it turned out. The physical damage to their frames took some hours to repair, but by the end of it they were good as new. Sunstreaker’s spark chamber was back to having no torn holes left by a former love’s claws, his chest armor back on the task of protecting it, cut energon lines put together—so on and so forth to all of the injuries they had acquired. They’d need to do some repainting as soon as possible, but first… The command wanted to hear what had happened.

That landed the twins at the table of the meeting room usually only the command used, instead of their quarters doing far more important things. Sunstreaker was frowning down at the bare grey piece on his thigh, sour in mood for several reasons by now. That was one of them, and fraggit, it was one he could’ve done something about if it wasn’t for the impatience of others.

But no. Couldn’t have that.

“Twins. Could you start from the beginning?” Optimus requested. “We would like to understand Megatron’s interest in you.”

Sideswipe, at least, was looking at the members of the command that had gathered just to listen to them—Optimus, Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Ratchet, Wheeljack. Red Alert wasn’t invited for some obvious reasons. He’d probably glitch just at reading the report of this… Pits, they weren’t looking forward to dealing with the accusations that would follow.

“Beginning beginning?” Sideswipe asked to make sure, but they didn’t wait for an answer before Sunstreaker had already begun to speak.

They wanted from the beginning, they would get from the beginning.

Sans all the detail. He was not going to go too deep into his private life for them. “I met Megatronus in the Pits and we became… Lovers. We stayed that way for several vorns, until the start of the war. However, I was a slave and my frames slave coded, and on removing the coding when joining the Autobots, all of the memories of the duration of having the slave coding got messed up and out of my reach. That’s what Ratchet says, anyway. I’m not a medic.”

Sunstreaker didn’t lift his gaze, but Sideswipe saw Ratchet nod at the questioning looks he got. That confirmed, Sunstreaker continued, “So, I didn’t remember any of that—my time in the Pits, what Megatron was to me—for the entirety of the war. I also never ran into him during the war, up until the Exodus and ending up on Earth. Looks like he hadn’t really let go of me, though.”

“He was trying to make contact with you?” Prowl frowned. Sunstreaker shrugged. That seemed like the sensible answer, didn’t it?

“And you didn’t remember him so you had no idea he might even want to do that,” Jazz surmised. “Looks like buckethead decided to just corner you when you wouldn’t talk to him willingly.”

“Looks like it,” Sideswipe sighed.

“What did Megatron do, exactly?” Optimus asked, all gentle and careful as if these might be some unpleasant memories for the twins and he didn’t want to upset them. Sunstreaker looked up enough to direct his frown at him. The Prime, of course, looked as earnest as ever.

“Soundwave occupied Sideswipe,” Sunstreaker nevertheless started, as much as there wasn’t much to tell—not much he wanted to tell. “Megatron fought me into a standstill, and when I didn’t recognize him, he had Soundwave restore our missing memories.”

And that was all he wanted to say about that, so that was all he said.

It didn’t satisfy the command, though.

“That was all?” Prowl asked, sounding a little skeptical. “He didn’t want anything else? He didn’t say anything?”

Sunstreaker revved a tune of annoyance and let his helm fall back to stare at the ceiling instead of anyone else. Sideswipe dropped his gaze onto the table, but everyone would be able to tell they were lying if they said that was all. Megatron coming along, returning their memories to them, and buggering off right after just didn’t make much sense, did it? He had to tell them something.

Primus damn it all, but Sunstreaker bit the bullet in the most vague way he could. “He talked about how he’s missed me; apparently he thinks there’s still something between us. Told me not to forget him again, then left.”

There was quiet as everyone digested those news. Jazz was the first one to speak. “That’s how he feels about you, if he was speakin’ the truth. How do you feel about him?”

Right. Did Sunstreaker still love Megatron? Was he going to run right back to his former lover’s arms to continue where they left off?

He lifted an arm to run a servo down his face. What a fragging mess… No, he wasn’t about to run back to anyone, but his feelings? He wasn’t as sure about his feelings. They weren’t listening to sense very much.

“He was never the easiest mech to be with,” he eventually landed on saying, dropping his arm and tipping his helm back forward to stare at the opposite wall past everyone looking at him. “What I remember makes a damn big part of me wonder why the pit I was with him in the first place. ‘Sides, he made a piss poor reintroduction.”

From the corner of his vision he could see Jazz’s visor flashing just a bit. The TIC could probably read between the lines that he wasn’t just referring to the fight, but blessedly, he didn’t say anything. The others didn’t look surprised in the slightest. Wasn’t it so easy to imagine it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows with a mech like Megatron? Because it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

And yet…

But they didn’t need to know about the and yet. He was going to sort himself out without bringing his loyalties into further question, thank you.

“How do you go from being that bastard’s lovers to becoming Autobots?” Ironhide wanted to know. Sunstreaker glanced at him, offering the weapons specialist a shrug.

“We were slaves. That doesn’t always leave you with an overabundance of options.”

“Twins,” the Prime said almost immediately, sounding damn concerned all of a sudden—not that he hadn’t been concerned for this whole duration, being the caring sort— “Did you join the Autobots willingly?”

Oh boy, Optimus wasn’t going to like the answer. Sunstreaker met his optics head on and said it as it was: “Not everyone had the privilege of choice.”

Their grand leader looked downright distraught at that, but Prowl took the turn to speak. “If Megatron still has an interest in you, we can expect he’ll try to get you to his side–“ an assessment Sunstreaker didn’t exactly disagree with, “–but the real question is your response to such attempts.”

Sunstreaker nodded his understanding, and the SIC continued by asking, “What would you like to do about this?”

Everyone’s attention was squarely on him. Sunstreaker gushed a heavy round of air from his vents. “I’d prefer things didn’t change,” he said to even partially alleviate the obvious concerns of where his loyalties would go from here—and he wasn’t lying, either. “I’ve gone the entire war fighting for the Autobots and felt perfectly content that way. This isn’t swaying my thoughts on that.”

“Kid,” Ironhide said, a little carefully, “If you’d gotten the choice in the whole thing… Would you have joined the Autobots?”

Sunstreaker huffed–

But couldn’t pretend to find that funny for more than a handful of seconds before he sighed. “I wasn’t in the… Mindset. Something drastic would have needed to happen for me to make that choice for myself.”

Again there was silence as the command considered that answer. Then Optimus’ attention turned to Sunstreaker’s twin instead. “Sideswipe, what is your take on all of this?”

The brothers frowned, but Sideswipe didn’t waste much time jerking his thumb at Sunstreaker. “What Sunny says.”

It didn’t seem to be the answer the Prime was looking for based on his own frown, but it was all the answer he was going to get. He didn’t push further, either, though that may have just been because he didn’t have the time before Ironhide was voicing another question. “How’d the slagger even know how to set yer memories right?”

Sunstreaker shrugged, but Ratchet answered, “It’s in their restricted medical files. If someone got their hands on those, they’d know the cause, the state, and the fix.”

Prowl joined in on all those already frowning. “So we may have had a security breach.”

“Seems likely,” Ratchet agreed.

“Gotta give to ‘im, he was determined to have you remember again,” Jazz commented. “Figuring out you’d lost your memories, gettin’ the reason and the remedy, cornerin’ you to rectify the situation… This can’t be all he wants.”

“Agreed,” Prowl said, looking between the brothers. “No doubt he will have further intent for you—and he may not ask for you agreement for any of it.”

“I’m aware,” Sunstreaker growled. “Doesn’t mean I’m just going to slagging roll over and let him have his way.”

Except hadn’t he already done that? Hadn’t Megatron only needed to speak select words and touch him right for him to let the fragger get what he wanted?

But ‘facing was one thing. Whatever else Megatron was after… That was another. He would be more prepared next time, too.

It wouldn’t happen again.

He earned several nods for his words. “We will work around this,” Optimus promised. “Megatron will not be given a chance to do what he wills with you.”

“Does that mean I’ll still be kept from going far from the Ark?” Sideswipe asked, reflecting the twins’ unhappiness with the idea.

“Do you not agree it’s for the best?” Prowl asked in return, one of his optical ridges rising. “Or would you rather this event repeat itself?”

“…Point taken,” Sideswipe muttered to that, far from thrilled with that, but… Did they really want to run into Megatron again?

“Let us know if something happens despite our precautions,” Optimus said. They nodded their understanding and the Prime continued, “Dismissed. Go get some rest.”

( Next )

#transformers #maccadam #maccadams #sideswipe #sunstreaker #jazz #prowl #ironhide #ratchet #optimus #fic #2021 #disaster

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silvokrent · 4 years

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RWBY Character Analysis: Pietro and Penny Polendina

Up until now I’ve been keeping quiet about my opinions on the newest volume, in no small part because my personal life has been one absurd setback after another, and I haven’t had the energy to engage in fandom meta. If you do want to know what my current opinion of RWBY is, go over to @itsclydebitches blog, search through her #rwby-recaps tag, and read every single one. At this point, her metas are basically an itemized list of all my grievances with the show. I highly recommend you check ’em out.

Or, if you don’t feel like reading several hours’ worth of recaps, then go find a sheet of paper, give yourself a papercut, and then squeeze a lemon into it. That should give you an accurate impression of my feelings.

In truth, I have a lot to say about the show, particularly how I think CRWBY has mishandled the plot, characters, tone, and intended message of their series. And while I enjoy dissecting RWBY with what amounts to mad scientist levels of glee, I think plenty of other folks have already discussed V7′s and V8′s various issues in greater depth and with far more eloquence. Any contribution I could theoretically make at this point would be somewhat redundant.

That being said, I’d like to talk about something that’s been bothering me for a while, which (to my knowledge) no one else in the fandom has brought up. (And feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.)

Today’s topic of concern is Pietro Polendina, and his relationship with Penny.

And because I’m absolutely certain this post is going to be controversial and summon anonymous armchair critics to fill my inbox with sweary claptrap, I may as well just come out and say it:

Pietro Polendina, as he’s currently portrayed in the show, is an inherently abusive parental figure.

Let me take a second to clarify that I don’t think it was RWBY’s intention to portray Pietro that way. Much like other aspects of the show, a lot of nuance is often lost when discussing the difference between intention versus implementation, or telling versus showing. It’s what happens when a writer tries to characterize a person one way, but in execution portrays them in an entirely different light. Compounding this problem is what feels like a series of rather myopic writing decisions that started as early as Volume 2, concerning Penny’s sense of agency, and how the canon would bear out the implications of an autonomous being grappling with her identity. It’s infuriating that the show has spent seven seasons staunchly refusing to ask any sort of ethical questions surrounding her existence, only to then—with minimal setup—give us Pietro’s “heartfelt” emotional breakdown when he has to choose between “saving” Penny or “sacrificing” her for the greater good.

Yeah, no thanks.

If we want to talk about why this moment read as hollow and insincere, we need to first make sure everyone’s on the same page.

Spoilers for V8.E5 - “Amity.” Let’s not waste any time.

In light of the newest episode and its—shall we say—questionable implications, I figured now was the best time to bring it up while the thoughts were still fresh in my mind. (Because nothing generates momentum quite like frothing-at-the-mouth rage.)

The first time we’re told anything about Pietro, it comes from an exchange between Penny and Ruby. From V2.E2 - “A Minor Hiccup.”

Penny: I've never been to another kingdom before. My father asked me not to venture out too far, but... You have to understand, my father loves me very much. He just worries a lot.

Ruby: Believe me, I know the feeling. But why not let us know you were okay?

Penny: I…was asked not to talk to you. Or Weiss. Or Blake. Or Yang. Anybody, really.

Ruby: Was your dad that upset?

Penny: No, it wasn’t my father.

The scene immediately diverts our attention to a public unveiling of the AK-200. A hologram of James Ironwood is presenting this newest model of Atlesian Knight to a crowd of enthusiastic spectators, along with the Atlesian Paladin, a piloted mech. During the demonstration, James informs his audience that Atlas’ military created them with the intent of removing people from the battlefield and mitigating casualties (presumably against Grimm).

Penny is quickly spotted by several soldiers, and flees. Ruby follows, and in the process the two are nearly hit by a truck. Penny��s display of strength draws a crowd and prompts her to retreat into an alley, where Ruby learns that Penny isn’t “a real girl.”

This scene continues in the next episode, “Painting the Town…”

Penny: Most girls are born, but I was made. I’m the world’s first synthetic person capable of generating an Aura. [Averts her gaze.] I’m not real…

After Ruby assures her that no, you don’t have to be organic in order to have personhood, Penny proceeds to hug her with slightly more force than necessary.

Ruby: [Muffled noise of pain.] I can see why your father would want to protect such a delicate flower!

Penny: [Releases Ruby.] Oh, he’s very sweet! My father’s the one that built me! I’m sure you would love him.

Ruby: Wow. He built you all by himself?

Penny: Well, almost! He had some help from Mr. Ironwood.

Ruby: The general? Wait, is that why those soldiers were after you?

Penny: They like to protect me, too!

Ruby: They don't think you can protect yourself?

Penny: They're not sure if I'm ready yet. One day, it will be my job to save the world, but I still have a lot left to learn. That's why my father let me come to the Vytal Festival. I want to see what it's like in the rest of the world, and test myself in the Tournament.

Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of the approaching soldiers from earlier. Despite Ruby’s protests, Penny proceeds to yeet her into the nearby dumpster, all while reassuring her that it’s to keep Ruby out of trouble, not her. When the soldiers arrive, they ask her if she’s okay, then proceed to lightly scold her for causing a scene. Penny’s told that her father “isn’t going to be happy about this,” and is then politely asked (not ordered; asked) to let them escort her back.

Let’s take a second to break down these events.

When these two episodes first aired, the wording and visuals (“No, it wasn’t my father,” followed by the cutaway to James unveiling the automatons) implied that James was the one forbidding her from interacting with other people. It’s supposed to make you think that James is being restrictive and harsh, while Pietro is meant as a foil—the sweet, but cautious father figure. But here’s the thing: both of these depictions are inaccurate, and frankly, Penny’s the one at fault here. Penny blew her cover within minutes of interacting with Ruby—a scenario that Penny was responsible for because she was sneaking off without permission. Penny is a classified, top-secret military project, as made clear by the fact that she begs Ruby to not say anything to anyone. Penny is in full acknowledgement that her existence, if made public, could cause massive issues for her (something that she’s clearly experienced before, if her line, “You’re taking this extraordinarily well,” is anything to go by).

But here’s the thing—keeping Penny on a short leash wasn’t a unilateral decision made by James. That was Pietro’s choice as well. “My father asked me not to venture out too far,” “Your father isn’t going to be happy about this”—as much as this scene is desperately trying to put the onus on James for Penny’s truant behavior, Pietro canonically shares that blame. And Penny (to some extent) is in recognition of the fact that she did something wrong.

Back in Volumes 1 – 3, before the series butchered James’ characterization, these moments were meant as pretty clever examples of foreshadowing and subverting the controlling-military-general trope. This scene is meant to illustrate that yes, Penny is craving social interaction outside of military personnel as a consequence of being hidden, but that hiding her is also a necessity. It’s a complicated situation with no easy answer, but it’s also something of a necessary evil (as Penny’s close call with the truck and her disclosing that intel to Ruby are anything to go by).

Let’s skip ahead to Volume 7, shortly after Watts tampered with the drone footage and framed her for several deaths. In V7.E7 - “Worst Case Scenario,” a newscaster informs us that people in Atlas and Mantle want Penny to be deactivated, despite James’ insistence that the footage was doctored and Penny didn’t go on a killing spree. The public’s unfavorable opinion of Penny—a sentiment that Jacques of all people embodies when he brings it up in V7.E8—reinforces V2’s assessment of why keeping her secret was necessary. Not only is her existence controversial because Aura research is still taboo, but people are afraid that a mechanical person with military-grade hardware could be hacked and weaponized against them. (Something which Volume 8 actually validates when James has Watts take control of her in the most recent episode.)

But I digress.

We’re taken to Pietro’s lab, where Penny is hooked up to some sort of recharge/docking station. Ruby, Weiss, and Maria look on in concern while the machine is uploading the visual data from her systems. There’s one part of their conversation I want to focus on in particular:

Pietro: When the general first challenged us to find the next breakthrough in defense technology, most of my colleagues pursued more obvious choices. I was one of the few who believed in looking inward for inspiration.

Ruby: You wanted a protector with a soul.

Pietro: I did. And when General Ironwood saw her, he did too. Much to my surprise, the Penny Project was chosen over all the other proposals.

Allow me to break down their conversation so we can fully appreciate what he’s actually saying.

The Penny Project was picked as the candidate for the next breakthrough in defense technology.

Pietro wanted a protector with a SOUL.

In RWBY, Aura and souls are one of the defining characteristics of personhood. Personhood is central to Penny’s identity and internal conflict (particularly when we consider that she’s based on Pinocchio). That’s why Penny accepts Ruby’s reassurances that she’s a real person. That’s why she wants to have emotional connections with others.

What makes that revelation disturbing is when you realize that Pietro knowingly created a child soldier.

Look, there’s no getting around this. Pietro fully admits that he wanted to create a person—a human being—a fucking child—as a "defense technology” to throw at the Grimm (and by extension, Salem). Everything, from the language he uses, to the mere fact that he entered Penny in the Vytal Tournament as a proving ground where she could “test [her]self,” tells us that he either didn’t consider or didn’t care about the implications behind his proposal.

When you break it all down, this is what we end up with:

“Hey, I have an idea: Why don’t we make a person, cram as many weapons as we can fit into that person, and then inform her every day for the rest of her life that she was built for the sole purpose of fighting monsters, just so we don’t have to risk the lives of others. Let’s then take away anything remotely resembling autonomy, minimize her interactions with people, and basically indoctrinate her into thinking that this is something she wants for herself. Oh, and in case she starts to raise objections, remind her that I donated part of my soul to her. If we make her feel guilty about this generous sacrifice I made so she could have the privilege of existing, she won’t question our motives. Next, let’s give her a taste of freedom by having her fight in a gladiatorial blood sport so that we can prove our child soldier is an effective killer. And then, after she’s brutally murdered on international television, we can rebuild her and assign her to protecting an entire city that’s inherently prejudiced against her, all while I brood in my lab about how sad I am.”

Holy fuck. Watts might be a morally bankrupt asshole, but at least his proposal didn’t hinge on manufacturing state-of-the-art living weapons. They should have just gone with his idea.

(Which, hilariously enough, they did. Watts is the inventor of the Paladins—Paladins which, I’ll remind you, were invented so the army could remove people from the battlefield. You know, people. Kind of like what Penny is.)

Do you see why this entire scene might have pissed me off? Even if the show didn’t intend for any of this to be the case, when you think critically about the circumstances there’s no denying the tacit implications.

To reiterate, V8.E5 is the episode where Pietro says, and I quote:

“I don’t care about the big picture! I care about my daughter! I lost you before. Are you asking me to go through that again? No. I want the chance to watch you live your life.”

Oh, yeah? And what life is that? The one where she’s supposed to kill Grimm and literally nothing else? You do realize that she died specifically because you made her for the purpose of fighting, right?

No one, literally no one, was holding a gun to Pietro’s head and telling him that he had to build a living weapon. That was his idea. He chose to do that.

Remember when Cinder said, “I don’t serve anyone! And you wouldn’t either, if you weren’t built that way.” She…basically has a point. Penny has never been given the option to explore the world in a capacity where she wasn’t charged with defending it by her father. We know she doesn’t have many friends, courtesy of Ironwood dissuading her against it in V7. But I’m left with the troubling realization that the show (and the fandom), in their crusade to vilify James, are ignoring the fact that Pietro is also complicit in this behavior by virtue of being her creator. If we condemn the man that prevents Penny from having relationships, then what will we do to the man who forced her into that existence in the first place?

Being her “father” has given him a free pass to overlook the ethics of having a child who was created with a pre-planned purpose. How the hell did the show intend for Pietro to reconcile “I want you to live your life” with “I created you so you’d spend your life defending the world”? It viscerally reminds me of the sort of narcissistic parents who have kids because they want to pass on the family name, or continue their bloodline, or have live-in caregivers when they get older, only on a larger and much more horrific scale. And that’s fucked up.

Now, I’m not saying I’m against having a conflict like this in the show. In fact, I’d love to have a character who has to grapple with her own humanity while questioning the environment she grew up in. Penny is a character who is extremely fascinating because of all the potential she represents—a young woman who through a chance encounter befriends a group of strangers, and over time, is exposed to freedoms and friendships she was previously denied. Slowly, she begins to unlearn the mindset she was indoctrinated with, and starts to petition for agency and autonomy. Pietro is forced to confront the fact that what he did was traumatic and cruel, and that his love for her doesn’t erase the harm he unintentionally subjected her to, nor does it change the fact that he knowingly burdened a person with a responsibility she never consented to. There’s a wealth of character growth and narrative payoff buried here, but like most things in RWBY, it was either underdeveloped or not thought through all the way.

The wholesome father-daughter relationship the show wants Pietro and Penny to have is fundamentally contradicted by the nature of her existence, and the fact that no one (besides the villains) calls attention to it. I’d love for them to have that sort of dynamic, but the show had to do more to earn it. Instead, it’ll forever be another item on RWBY’s ever-growing list of disappointments—

Because Pietro’s remorse is more artificial than Penny could ever hope to be.

#rwby #rwby volume 8 #rwby spoilers #rwby thought dump #my posts #i speak #rwby meta #pietro polendina #penny polendina #james ironwood #arthur watts #ruby rose #rwby worldbuilding #rwde

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