#takes place after reunion rp

[delicatechildwitch]

“Hey, I made some more t-tie-d-ye. I'm sorry I messed it-t up.. ev-veryth-th-thing c-came out b-b-blue somehow…” 

Ever heard of tie dye that makes you see your worst fear?

[So, uh, way late ... And I was really tired when I wrote some parts ... But here we go? I recently wrote a central question for each character to struggle to answer throughout the main series and tried to show it in each section.

(Italicized blue for the spores influence? I don't know, I was having fun with colors)

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion @midwesternvibes (momentarily feature a nightmare version of your guy) @3mutantsinatrenchcoat (you too)

Uh ... Enjoy? Maybe?]

~~

"Score!" Leo shouts, grabbing a blue t-shirt. "Now I can have both."

Donnie frowns. "Blue isn't my color ..."

"But they worked hard on it!" Raph crosses his arms disapprovingly.

After a second of deliberation, the three of them pick t-shirts that match Leo's.

"Thank you again!" Raph says pleasantly, walking away.

~~

Casey and Tello glance at each other. Something pinged at Tello's instincts, but he can't quite put a finger on it.

Tello shrugs, and the pair select blue masks. Something to remember him by.

~~

Leo looks down at his shirt. Camp was going great! So much free stuff, so many cool alternates!

And Mikey seemed to be happier, and Mini-Tello had supervision so he could actually enjoy this!

Nothing could go wrong. They were safe at camp.

But then he heard the opening of a portal.

He turns, only to find the Shredder and the Kraang and Draxum step out of the portal. And then more and more. They kept coming.

He thought he had more time.

Leonardo leaps into battle, charging for the closest enemy- one of the Kraang.

Pain burns across his face, accompanied by a sickening crunch. Leonardo falls back, opening his eyes to see that the Shredder had stepped between them and backhanded him.

He struggles to stand, eyes on the Shredder.

No one else was helping him. Raph and Don and Mikey just stood there, watching. They didn't run, didn't fight, just stood there in terror.

He had to do this alone.

And then the Kraang grabbed Mikey, and the smaller turtle struggled then, and Leo was too slow. He reached out with a portal but by the time he heard the familiar crackle he could almost taste in the back of his throat, the Kraang had pulled his little brother apart.

The Kraang laughs, and Leo's stomach roils, but he can't look away at the mess of organs and blood that was his brother.

He rushes over, carrying his still-to-meager medical supplies and looking him over.

The shredder and all the others simply stepped aside and laughed, knowing Leo couldn't save him.

None of his preparation had mattered. He still couldn't do it. He desperately fumbled with the stitches, tried to use his ninpo to reach for him. None of it mattered.

He hadn't got there in time. He was too slow. And he couldn't fix it.

He can't do it.

He was helpless.

~~

Mikey was helpless. Everything had been going right until that portal had appeared and dropped all of these unimaginable horrors on him and his brothers.

Leo had been the first to fall. The Kraang leader had snatched him up from right next to Mikey and thrown him back into the prison dimension.

He didn't know how to save him, how to bring him back.

He was still standing there, unable to move.

Just then, the Kraang leader reaches for him.

Mikey can't move. Can't react. Just stares at the clawed metal hand of the exosuit dumbly.

Raph takes the blow for him.

Stands between him and the enemy, only to be consumed by pink flesh.

Mikey can't breathe because he wasn't helping, wasn't doing much of anything besides getting his team killed.

They were right.

He was a liability. Too small. Too young. Too frail. Too injured by his own powers.

He was weak.

~~

Donnie was weaker than he let on. Not as competent as he hoped he seemed.

That's what became increasingly apparent as he watched the firewall go down, piece by piece.

He puts in more code, but the got closer and closer.

A simple mistep.

Just one.

That's all it takes.

They know where he is.

Where his family was.

He rushes to his artfully crafted state-of-the-art security system.

He could hold them off.

But when they arrive, it's not the Purple Dragons.

It's the Kraang.

Donnie exclaims in fear, stumbling back.

The Kraang puddled around, as if more liquid than solid. Their bright pink flesh tones oozed and bubbled, barely forming shapes and then dissolving.

It charges at Donnie. His shield barely forms in time, as it shoves him into the ground.

He could feel the battleshell break beneath him, digging into the soft shell of his back. He feels bruises run down his spine ... All over, really.

His shell was gone.

He was vulnerable.

He was vulnerable.

He was vulnerable.

His tech had failed him.

Donnie screeches. The Kraang tentacles got under his skin. Scratching a familiar itch in his brain.

Get it out.

Get it out.

Get it out!

Donnie gasps for air. His hand was suddenly in Raph's, as he finds himself being pulled upwards.

"Oh, thank the heavens y-"

Raph turns away. His expression cold. "You failed."

"Ha. I made a whole security system! If they hadn't attacked me, it would h-"

"They took it down." Raph says.

"W-"

"Face it. Your best isn't good enough." Raph says. His single uncovered eye glints with disappointment or disgust. He wasn't sure. "And you know what that means."

"I can prove myself better! I can try talking more. Being better communicative! I'll make better inventions. I'll be perfect! You don't have to force me out."

"You'll never be good enough." Raph says. "You might as well be dead."

And with that, Raph leaves.

Donnie feels tears pooling around his eyes.

But he deserved this. He failed. He wasn't good enough.

He wished he had died instead.

~~

Raph was dead tired.

And he was alone.

Well, not quite.

Raph raised his large head, forcing himself to look at them.

Pierced by Raph's shell and lying there ... Bleeding out ... Was Mikey.

Leo lay not far from him, coughing up blood. His plastron was broken and shattered from where Raph had hit him.

Donnie lay not far from Leo. His face sags and blood drips down his neck from where shattered bone pierced it. Raph had done that as well.

Beyond that was Splinter's corpse, and then April with her spine ripped out and then Casey and her future son and then Tello, whose jaw was ripped off violently and thousands more.

Raph raises his head up a little further to see the Kraang leader, larger than life and looking down at Raph menacingly ... Kindly?

"Well done, my pet." He says, stroking the side of Raph's face with the cold metal claw of his exosuit. A stinging sensation quickly followed by warm liquid bubbling onto Raph's skin tells him that it had accidentally cut him. In one deft movement, the Kraang before him slipped Raph's eye patch off of his face. "I knew you would save us one day."

In that moment, Raph sees his reflection in the Kraang's exosuit. He sees the one normal eye, the red one.

But the other one was pink.

Much like the eyes of the Kraang in front of him.

And he could see out of it.

He was a monster. A Kraang soldier.

The thrill and relief at that thought terrified him.

He felt his body shift. His jaw elongate. His vision sharpen.

He was Kraang. He was a monster.

And he liked it.

~~

Casey liked to be alone. Or at least that's what he told himself.

Because the truth was that he didn't deserve companionship. He didn't deserve peace. He didn't deserve a family.

He didn't deserve hope.

So he rejected them. Became a soldier instead.

No more 'Dad' or 'Pops'.

Only Master ... Sensei ...

Sir.

But they were gone now, and so was all his hope at finding a family.

That's why he left April, lived on his own, away from everyone else.

Because he didn't deserve to stay with them.

He felt plagued by memories, but there were no visions.

Because for Casey Jones Jr., the boy who grew up in the apocalypse, who killed his own father at age ten, lost person after person only to end up in a place where, no matter how peaceful, he didn't belong? For him, there was nothing worse than the truth.

~~

The truth was that Donatello was scared.

He held Kendra close to him, as if she would disappear at any moment.

He was in a cell. An all to familiar cell.

He knows how this goes. He's had enough nightmares of this moment.

But Kendra's never been with him.

He's glad she was.

One of the Kraang walks back in, carrying a serum. Donatello recognizes him as the third in command.

"You've caused us problems, turtle."

Donatello growls, spitting at the Kraang. "That's kind of the point."

He knew what this would do. He'd feel his soul get torn apart and examined, reduced to its purest essence and then be bound to the Kraang, and maybe his dream would show him what hadn't happened, but could have ... The weapon they would have made his soul into.

Except this felt real.

But how? How did he get back here ...

Or ...

He had a lot of new Leo friends ... Had one of them sent him back to his future somehow? Him and Kendra?

He knew exactly which one would.

One that hated him and the other 'Donatello's in camp.

"But your soul isn't useful to us, which is why we've procured some other targets." Kraang 3 smiles sadistically. "Luckily, we were given just the perfect weapons."

As if on cue, the young adult turtle walks in, blue eyes fastening onto Donatello with hatred. The black sclera, the scars, the missing limb ... It was Leonardo ... But not his Leo. His crueler counterpart.

He was dragging Casey behind him by the hair.

And he carries Three in his arms.

Donatello's heart squeezes painfully, and he struggles to stand.

The chain around his throat blocks him from getting to close.

"Don't. Please." Tello says, desperately.

"You knew this was coming. You knew I hated you. And it was easy. You were never quite ..." He looks Tello up and down. "As good as me, were you. You're not as strong as Raph. Not as clever as me. Not as mystically powerful as Michelangelo. Just consistently average. Sure, you're intelligent, but how useful is that, exactly, when I can outwit you easily. You even suck at being a parent. Look at how many problems you gave this one."

With that, he throws Casey at the Kraang's feet.

And he sets Three in the Kraang's arms.

Catching Tello's confused look, he adds, "You thought you could read me? Thought you were so certain that I would never hurt Three? Don't make me laugh. You forgot that you were autistic, didn't you. You're incapable of understanding me. Understanding anything."

"You were his dad!"

"And I would be so much better at it than you. Didn't you see how much he prefers to be hugging me? How much better I connect to him? But alas, I would much rather hurt you." With that, he opens up a portal and disappears.

Donatello feels like a part of him was torn apart, as if it was his own twin who had betrayed him. As if Leonardo had been the one to set his kids into the hands of the Kraang.

The Kraang in question laughs, walking closer and wrapping a tentacle around Kendra. "If only you were strong enough to stop me."

No. Not again.

The squishy, awful flavor of Kraang flesh bursts on his tongue, reminiscent of burnt rubber and the taste of his mouth after waking up at his desk in the morning.

His teeth struggle for only a second on the tentacle, before he tastes blood, thicker and with a stronger metallic tang than his own would be.

He spits out the neatly sliced mouthful, seeing it land in the Kraang's face.

The Kraang screams, in anger and pain, but it was all for naught because he pulls Kendra away.

Donatello reaches for her, only for one of the other Kraang to rush in, slamming him into the wall.

Pain bursts through Donatello's back. He loses vision for a second.

When he can see again, his arms were chained.

Kendra screams obscenities at the Kraang, only to get her skull slammed into the floor.

Donatello struggles against the chains.

He had to save them. He had to.

But he couldn't. He wasn't good enough. Instead he watched Three scream as his soul was torn apart. Watched the fight drain from Kendra. Watched Casey whimper in the Kraang's hold.

That was supposed to be him. He was supposed to be torn apart. Not them.

Please not them.

He pulls against the confines of the chains. If he could only ...

~~

Tello tumbles forward, having slipped out of his body in his effort to escape the imaginary chains.

He gasps, for air that he can't breath at the moment. (His body seemed to be breathing fine. Hyperventilating, even.)

He looks back at his unconscious form (and Casey's equally panicked self) grimly.

Well. Time to fix this.

Context

[grownfairytale]

Mend My Shattered Existence

Theme(s): Bucky Barnes (Memories, "But I knew him...") mixed with On Your Left (The Smithsonian, PTSD) and To the End of the Line (1940s, Reunion) for @catws-anniversary

Rating: M (Just to be safe)

Word Count: 8,329

Summary: Following pulling Captain America from the Potomac River, the asset - freed from HYDRA's grasp - decides to find out the truth of who he once was. Takes place between the end of Captain America: The Winter Soldier up until Bucky and Steve reunite in Captain America: Civil War

Notes: Thank you to @gay-jewish-bucky for the verbalization/contextualization of the mikvah energy. Bucky is nonbinary and uses (currently) he/him pronouns. Italicized scenes are full on memories (as opposed to descriptions of memories/fragments of memories). A couple of Steve/Bucky scenes come from an RP with a friend. Also available on AO3

AO3 Tags: Bucky Barnes, Introspection, Character study, Nonbinary/Genderqueer Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Implied sex, Implied/Referenced sexual activity, Violence, Referenced experimentation, Antisemitism, Nazis

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barukh atah Adonai, eloheinu melekh ha-olam, asher kid-shanu b'mitz'votav, v'tzi-vanu al ha-t'vilah.

The first time the asset came up for air after plunging into the water from the helicarrier, the only thing on his mind was survival. It was only for a brief moment before the pull of the current dragged him into the water once more.

Baruch atah adonay, eloheinu, melech haolam, shehechiyanu, v’ kiyimanu, v’ higianu, lazman hazeh.

The second time he came up for air, there was struggle. Grasping. A feeling that something was off, wrong. He shouldn’t care that he was the only one who had come up and yet… A decision was made and it was into the water one more time. 

Compassionate God,

Healer of my body,

Healer of my soul,

Heal me.

Strengthen my ailing body;

Soothe my aching heart;

Mend my shattered existence.

Make me whole.

The third time the asset came up, he had made a choice for himself, against his programming. A choice to save instead of destroy. A choice that felt right and not like it went against something deep within. It didn’t make sense but it was instinct and right. In his hand was Captain America, the man he didn’t know (couldn’t know because to know was to bring pain, the scrambling of his mind to nothing but orders). His idealism would end him, but not today. Leaving the man on the bank of the Potomac River as his friends would find him, the asset disappeared in the shadows, a new mission in mind. 

As night came, the asset found himself at the Ideal Federal Savings Bank and two of the scientists who had turned him into this, a weapon, were there. The ones who made him do the things he had, the terrible things, the things Captain America didn’t know, the reason he could see him as someone he wasn't. And there was fear in their eyes.

“M…mission report…” 

“It’s done. Captain America is dead.”

Their relief was temporary, as that was when the asset struck, his true mission in motion. Revenge for the terrible things that they had done. It would be so easy. One hand pulled back, the other grasping the younger scientist’s neck and then words spoken years ago were repeated.

“I beg you. I have a daughter. P…please…” 

Whether it was a veil raising or the fog clearing just a bit more…. The asset couldn’t say. All he knew was that he didn’t want any more blood on his hands. What was there to gain? These men would scurry back to their homes, praying that their own identities would be saved from the release of information. What was there to say or do but disappear into the shadows, to become the ghost story he was in the intelligence community. Money. 

Clothes.

Washington D.C. was surveilled but a place of transients coming in and out for work, for travel. Safe houses would be burned, but that didn’t mean ingrained training disappeared. A cheap apartment to rent weekly to lay low in. An indent on the doorframe where…something familiar once had been. 

It would be a lie to say the nights were worse, or trying to sleep was when it was worse. After all, the images, the flashes, what he had done… The face in the mirror was wrong. The body, there was too much bulk. The weapon he had been forced to become. And always the pleading that never went away until the silence after the gunshot. A name had been chosen on the off chance one had to be given as it wasn’t like he knew who he was (Captain America called him Bucky, but there was no weight to that name. Nothing that tethered him to it). 

Jonathan. 

It was only at one place, Loeb’s Deli, where it seemed the asset had made the mistake to go frequently, but again, there was something familiar. And so he needed a name. Different languages spoken all around, words picked up and sentences. Not just about what had happened at the Triskelion, but the information dump, the Senate hearings, what was to come next. Then there were the conversations about the day to day going ons, travel plans. An exhibit at the Smithsonian about Captain America. The former mission.  The man he knew but didn’t know. The link to his past. 

Did he want to know, should he? Would it matter? It wouldn’t erase the blood or pain, the memories imprinted on his body even as his mind was shattered from decades of being scrambled, erased, all for the mission. Yet there was that tug, and so a week after making that fateful decision to pull Captain America from the water, that instinct to save his life despite the mission, the asset made his way to the Smithsonian, ball cap in place to avoid being caught on camera. 

Each wing seemed focused on a different part of Captain America’s life. Some of it was the sort of thing one would expect to read in a museum, yet the asset couldn’t shake the feeling that there were things missing. That feeling was pushed aside though. It was in the wing for the Howling Commandos that things changed. He saw his face there. A panel dedicated to a man he saw glimpses of himself in, James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky…

Who the hell is Bucky?

The asset turned the name over in his mind. James felt wrong in the way Jonathan was  wrong, a mask of what was seen, expected. It was something that didn’t make sense, where there weren’t words for. Bucky felt like it had to be earned. Yet it still felt more right than the other two names if only to have something to hold onto other than the asset.

The history of this James Buchanan Barnes was written there, the only Howling Commando to give his life in the line of duty. The words he read flashed images in his mind, but in that moment, the emotional tethers of those images still did not exist. Even so, it was a lead. Information, images, to chase, to see if remembering would wash over the memories that haunted him, chased him no matter the time of day.

With the week lease up, the asset, James, Bucky, made his way to the nearest train yard to sneak onto freight train headed to New York City, a city of cameras and people, a city that memorial said he had grown up, where perhaps the memories would come back, this time perhaps with those emotional connections that would tether the images to something more concrete. Something he could hold onto. 

Closing his eyes, the asset let his mind wander to what he had read and seen in the exhibit. But there were other images as well. Enemies closing in. Being separated from the others. Strapped to a table. The pain. That was something he could remember, the fire in his blood. The certainty of death. The words intermixed with his name, rank and serial number. The words he had to say when it seemed clear he would die. 

Sh’ma yisrael

Adonai eloheinu

Adonai echad…

The words were mouthed even as the images flashed again, Captain America, Steve Rogers, stood over him, relieved to a pub with the men from the exhibit to a room where Steve Rogers stood before him before his lips were on his own. At least until the formerly captured soldier stepped back warily because these were boundaries that couldn’t be crossed with his best friend. And he didn’t even know if this was real, or pity because hadn’t he just been flirting with someone else hours before? So why the change?

“I…I’m sorry, I thought that you…that I…” 

“You don’t need to pity me, I’m fine.” The voice that came out was hard, a way to guard himself. But the shock on Steve’s face made it clear that perhaps Bucky had been misreading the situation, so sure of everything and how it had been before. 

“I would never mock you, Buck. I was heartbroken when Phillips said you were most likely dead and I realized that my life wasn’t worth living if I can’t share it with you.” 

Those were words Bucky had never expected to hear, let alone from the man in front of him. 

“Never say your life is not worth living.” And with that, Bucky kissed Steve, which somehow turned to the two of them on the bed, having to remember to keep quiet as clothing was lost and limbs were entangled. Where breath became a symphony as they found a new dynamic that was always there, simmering beneath the surface, never breached and always just out of reach until now. 

And that was enough remembering, Bucky’s eyes snapping open, the images slowly fading away. There should be more emotional weight to what he had seen, what had not been in the Smithsonian exhibit. Perhaps with time but his body remembered, could feel the truth. Now though, he had to get off the train. 

New York City would have the answers. 

Arriving in Brooklyn, the borough was familiar and unfamiliar. But Bucky was used to readjusting and navigating a new location. The training to gather information, only the information being sought was information on who he had been before. Before the experiments. Before the pain. Before the orders. Before the mindless haze of what was expected by various handlers over the decades, his body not his own but the property of others. No choice. Any sign of remembering, of being Bucky, violently erased time and time again. The training did come in use though. The ability to disappear into the shadows, into the crowds of people without being noticed, without being caught on the many CCTVs the city had. 

The paths were familiar. But everything was so much more. It was something Bucky couldn’t explain. Like his feet knew where to go, like he knew that there were more people than there should be, more lights, more sounds. These were things that Bucky pushed down and instead the once Winter Soldier (no, that was all he would ever be to anyone, no matter what he did now) found another rent by the week apartment, only this one had the an empty case where the previous one only had an indent where a case once had been. Instinct and muscle memory were powerful things as Bucky raised his fingers to his lips and pressed it to the empty case, as if it meant something even knowing there should be something of importance and meaning, a promise and reminder, in the case. 

Apartment procured, the next thing to do was get enough to survive. Bucky wasn’t sure how long he would be there. What answers he would get, if any, but that would be figured out later. Right now it was getting the necessities, ensuring a go bag was ready for the second he had to up and leave. He was a blank slate, the shadows of memory reaching for him, the most foundational there already. 

The mouthed words.

The muscle memory. 

What felt familiar even when most of the images and names still were more like a flickering picture reel than anything that felt solid. 

The first night out exploring, Bucky just walked wherever his feet took him, familiar paths down unfamiliar streets. Buildings had changed and buildings also seemed the same, or some did. It was hard to say what was real and what wasn’t. The faint outline of people milling about. At least until he stopped in front of one building. The facade was different but the feeling was…. 

The exhaustion of wearing a mask. As if this was a place to go when the mask was too much. The anxiety of being spotted. More flashes of images and fragments of feelings or thoughts to make some sense of them. Men with towels around their waists or nothing at all, steam. The exploration and expression of needs and desires or just to be, the release from expectations and knowing it was only inside that building, or what had once been that building and others like it, with people like him, where the mask could be dropped. 

Another night and it was another flash of memory, two flesh hands instead of one working on a costume, no, not a costume, but something that he could never be caught wearing normally… Something that felt more true than the way everyone saw him. More secrecy. More worry of being caught. But that one night of freedom with others like him to be as he felt the most comfortable in his own skin in a world that had enough issues with him already. 

Those images and accompanying thoughts and feelings had been interesting and enough to lead Bucky to the library to do reading and research. With these flashes of images and his own history supposedly stopping in 1945, there were now seventy years of history to look up. Of progress. Of words that maybe could fill in the blanks where words hadn’t even existed before. 

The language that was used was different now… it seemed the bathhouses still existed - not like Bucky had much interest in that. And the history book mentioned the other flashes of memories seemed to line up with something known as drag balls or fairy balls, most popular during the Pansy Craze that had died out when he would have been 18, yet some had still gone on for a bit later. But more than that, there was language for that fleeting feeling he had felt.

The feeling that he had just brushed aside as being because he had no identity beyond what was given to him as the asset, before he now was searching for who he had been and who he could be. 

This feeling of being in his skin, his body. How he approached and felt about the way society saw him and he saw himself. Mouthing the terms genderqueer and nonbinary to himself, Bucky filed the information away. There was more reading to be done but the library was closing and there were candles to light as it was Friday night.  What that meant, Bucky couldn’t quite say, but he knew that it meant something and that something was going to be a lifeline. 

Nights remained the hardest though. Because at night on the floor, the images had more weight to them. 

The orders that came from his handlers. 

The pleading.

The violence that followed him wherever he went

The blood that never washed away.

Then there were the other nights.

The scientists that hovered over him.

The feeling of his blood on fire. 

Being strapped onto board. Trapped.

Exposed. 

He couldn’t breathe.

He would never be free.

Was it a wonder he barely slept? When those were the flashes that had the most emotional weight? That felt the most real? And it wasn’t as if the nightmares, the memories, were just from his time as the asset. The Winter Soldier. No. These came from before, during the war. Fighting to protect those in his unit, dragged to where no one came back from… The knowing look that his dog tags were a lie… 

Even so, every day, Bucky would wander and get more flashes. A scrawny kid getting beat up and stepping in and forever being by that kid’s side.

That had to be Steve. The museum exhibit had said that they had been inseparable both on the schoolyard and the battlefield since childhood. 

Images of three sisters, a family, dinner with candles, traditions that he felt in his bones. The familiar recitations, movements, the scents. The people were still faint but those, those were more familiar, more grounding. Those memories became part of Bucky’s weekly routine. He had found a building he wanted to go into, but it was too much of a risk and so he didn’t. But he could feel it in his bones… 

And he knew that the memorial lied about his history. Was it the dog tags he knew had lies on them in his dreams? The knowing look, the spike of anxiety from deep within that went beyond just being strapped and at the mercy of HYDRA? 

It was something more to look into. 

Because if the memorial lied, or had gotten that part wrong, what else had it gotten wrong? As the Winter Soldier, he had helped  to topple governments, he may have been nothing more than a weapon, but he knew how propaganda worked. What was the point? The things that wouldn’t be known? Sure, but that integral part of himself that he had never been able to hide, and hadn’t until the war, why hide it?

There were other flashes and memories as well, the ones that showed a side of America that it seemed history was all too keen to forget about. Questions about having horns or a tail by some kid at a funeral for…. Was that Steve’s mother? It would make sense. Snide comments. Listening to the radio and suddenly he was hearing someone else, a Father Charles Coughlin and seeing his Social Justice magazine printed with all sorts of antisemitism including claims of how America should just wait until Hitler came over to America and sending Jews away. Nazis at Madison Square Gardens. The America First Committee and German American Bund, watching the growing concerns in his family. Whispers of if it would be wise to leave. But where would be safe? 

These images painted a fuller picture, the love and joy, the friendship, but the harsh reality, yet still, the realest thing remained the Friday night candles. The blessing over wine and spices and the braided candle on Saturday. 

Bucky spent three and a half months in New York City, going to places that were familiar - Yonah Schimmel’s Knish Bakery had an oddly familiar sense to it, somewhere he had gone before. It was comforting. Bucky had found a lot of places like that in the neighborhood he had found for his weekly rental. The mix of images, good and bad, from a time long forgotten, glorified and polished with a veneer of respectability with none of those pesky things that people would have to take a closer look at, to deconstruct and grapple with. It was the past after all and look at this bright and shiny future. And in the midst of that, he had done more reading. On what he had missed in general. And more of who he might be. So when the parade came, it was… Bucky didn’t quite have the words. To see something that was now more embraced, accepted that once had been hidden for fear, that he never would have been able to voice, that he kept locked away (the museum said he had been a lady’s man….he might not have a solid grasp on his memories but what those images like a picture film showed? Definitely contradicted that particular statement). It should be overwhelming. And it was in its own way even as he observed from the shadows. So many people embracing who they were, open and proud. It was… beautiful. 

And there was a twinge that Bucky couldn’t quite place. 

The following day had started like any other, Bucky had awoken in a cold sweat, not certain where he was or who he was at first before awareness slowly settled in, then getting something warm into him before going to wander. But across the way at midday was him. Captain America. Steve Rogers. And the truth he had been avoiding came crashing down. He couldn’t stay in New York. Not only were there world governments after him, especially thanks to the dump of information, but the Avengers were based in New York City and it was only a matter of time before he risked running into the man who seemingly knew him - certainly better than he currently knew himself. Let alone in a city with so much surveillance, no matter his skill at avoiding detection. 

No. It was dangerous to chase after information on who he had once been. That didn’t mean not being prepared though. Besides, it wasn’t like he could trust himself not to be a risk and threat to the man who had once been something to him, even if that something remained undefined and unspoken in the shadows of memory that faded from his grasp. 

Which was how Bucky found himself in Bucharest, in another small apartment with papered over windows. But it was fine, he didn’t need much anyway. His go bag was in the floorboards, ready to leave at a moment’s notice, exit strategy scoped out.  Bucharest was also where some semblance of a life began for Bucky.

The country was more conservative than New York had been and in that sense, it was more familiar to a past still mostly forgotten. Despite advances in LGBTQ rights (if only for political reasons to be able to join the European Union based on reading Bucky had done), the only place he would be able to explore gender expression would be his apartment. And it wasn’t like he had any real desire to seek out sex or a relationship. He couldn’t let anyone close and there just wasn’t that interest and as he mostly stuck to himself, there was less of a mask to be worn that required that release of tension. 

The only community Bucky did seek out was the Jewish community. He hadn’t been able to seek it out in New York. While much larger than the Jewish community in Romania, the need to remain hidden had been worse in New York and here? Here Bucky, or Ion as he was known, was easier. It was grounding. The traditions that he had picked up and done, Shabbat, remained, but now he went to shul, he made sure to know what holiday fell when. 

It was the first day of Rosh Hashanah and honestly, the idea of tashlich, of casting away of his sins seemed suspect at best. Oh, Bucky went to the Dambovita River and cast sticks into the water, though how could one cast away sins where there were holes in his memory? And the actions of the Winter Soldier were far too great… It made him dread Yom Kippur. How do you make amends to those who are dead? When families could be dead at this point? When you’re in hiding? All Bucky could do was not be that person anymore, to run from the trigger words inside of him, knowing he was still a risk, a danger. So when he cast away his sins, he also focused on what he wanted for this new year. A better grasp on who he was. 

Once home, Bucky had changed into a long skirt and blouse, covering his hair with a tichel. It was something for him, no one else. He was used to hiding himself already, but no one would be coming by. It was a regular routine by that point, grounding. He didn’t have any friends, nor could he. Even at the synagogue he had found, he kept mostly to himself. It was too dangerous. But he did make sure to take care of the stray cats in the neighborhood, one he had dubbed Kochava even tended to come inside more often than not. It wasn’t like most nights though, as there were candles to be lit. 

The difference though, was that some of the images from that would flicker in and out of his mind at random seemed to be longer, the picture film images were longer. The film not so filled with holes. 

The first one involved the woman Bucky recognized as his sister, Rebecca, sitting at a table with a heavy air over them, draft notice in Bucky’s hand. 

“What if you get captured? Don’t come home?”

It was a question that had been on Bucky’s mind as well. Going into war, to fight in Europe at that, well…there were going to be added risks for him. 

“The Army’s made it so, if we want, Jews can have a P put on our dog tags to mark as Protestant instead of the H…Better than trying to obscure it and drawing attention that way.” It left a foul taste in Bucky’s mouth, to deny such an integral part of who he was, but if it meant being able to have some form of protection, he should take it, right? 

“So that’s that then.” “What would you have me do, Becca?” Looking at his sister, he could tell she was just as at much of a loss as he was. Everything was so complicated. All there was to do was take this one step at a time, even if it left a pit in his stomach to do so.

Then he had to figure out how to tell Steve. Steve, who was always so willing to jump into a fight. Steve, who was desperate to join the Army, who refused to acknowledge there were other ways to help the war effort besides throwing his life away on the front in a desperate attempt to emulate his father because he had a chip on his shoulder and something to prove. Bucky could see what was hidden within the skinny, sick frame of his best friend, the person he couldn’t bear to lose. So how to tell him that he’d been drafted, that he hadn’t chosen this at all? 

As the memory faded, the impression remained and Bucky just blinked. Usually whatever emotional weight or impression would be gone as well but this time, this time it remained. Lingered in his mind, in his soul and consciousness. Huffing out a breath, all Bucky could do was watch as the flames of the candles, wondering if this was a fluke, or if there had been a shift and there would be more memories that would linger, if the emotional weight would remain. And then the more terrifying question.

If he did remain, what did that mean?

It soon became clear that it wasn’t a fluke. There was never telling when a memory would strike, good or bad. But the more Bucky became grounded in himself through tradition - be it Shabbat or just recreating recipes from the past, and reconnecting with that part of who he were, as well as exploring what felt comfortable to dress in when there was no one around, free to be true to himself, the more the memories would come. 

They weren’t all new memories. A lot of holes from previous ones seemed to be filling in. The emotional ties that had been missing regarding his family. Regarding Steve. 

Steve who he had taken upon himself to protect from that first fight on the play yard.

Steve who terrified him whenever he got sick and nearly died.

Steve who was stubborn as a mule and made Bucky want to bang his head on a wall sometimes. 

Steve who was the best person he knew and he never wanted to let down and so Bucky had sworn never to let him know about the part of himself he couldn’t reveal to anyone outside of specific safe walls. Because he would either reject him because that was society and he was Irish Catholic so it would just be a bridge too far for him (unlikely) or he would start picking even more fights because of things said and that was the last thing Bucky needed (likely). 

Steve, who was the most important person to Bucky outside of family, who was family really and Bucky loved. But only as a brother because that was all it ever could be because Steve was Irish Catholic and as far he could tell? Very much straight. And so to avoid losing his best friend by crossing boundaries, Bucky ensured a mental barrier was in place so his feelings would never go beyond that. He couldn’t lose Steve. 

Yet the other flashes of memories seemed to tell a different story. The ones in the lead up to the war? Sure. They tell that story, but the ones from after… Stolen moments where it is clear that Steven Grant Rogers is definitely not straight. There were still holes in Bucky’s memories, memories that came out of order, but that was something that was becoming more clear. 

And as the months went on, the memories that came happened even when Bucky wasn’t doing something rooted in the foundation he had created for himself. Though often they came while in the apartment where there was nothing that really made it a home as the former Winter Soldier in search of who he had once been knew that nothing was ever going to be permanent. After all, there was nothing in Bucharest to trigger the memories. Not like in New York. 

Bucky didn’t know how long it had been since Steve had come to his room, how long they had been lost in one another, learning new things about one another… just that his curls were sticking to his forehead and he were curled up against the super soldier, his arm holding him protectively as he traced designs on his chest, his arm, his abdomen, in the silent moments of calm. But there was still that lingering question… so even as he was still catching his breath, now seemed as good a time as any (and really, who knew when another time would come up), Bucky decided to ask even as he kept his focus on the absent minded design tracing he were doing, “So… going to tell me how this happened?” 

He could feel Steve shift some, as if he knew the question was coming, and really…how could it not?

“A doctor working with the Army and Strategic Scientific Reserve thought I was the perfect candidate for his serum he wanted to try out. To create a super soldier to help turn the tide of the war. It worked but… Dr. Erskine was shot and killed by a HYDRA assassin right after I became this. Phillips wanted to stick me in a lab, but Senator Brant got me to be a seller of war bonds.” 

Bucky listened intently as Steve explained what had happened. It had to have been at the Stark Expo, the fight from before he shipped out. And yet? He looked up at the man he was curled up against through his curls, quirking a brow, “So… you let a Jewish scientist run an experiment on you in order to create a super soldier to fight the Nazis, who are killing the Jewish people… Meaning you became a golem. Do I have that right?” Noticing the blush Steve had, Bucky waited until he got his answer. 

“Pretty much. Think I prefer that to being the performing monkey Brant made me.”

“A golem is much preferable to a performing monkey.”

Steve began to stroke Bucky’s hair as he continued to speak, Bucky leaning into his touch, “Dr. Erskine said a guy like me who’d never known power would respect it when they have it…. I made a promise to him to stay a good man…” 

Seeing the way that Steve was staring at the hand he was holding up by that point, Bucky shifted and kissed the spot over his heart, reaching up to take the raised hand and interlace their fingers, “I know you will.”  

The news coming out of Sokovia was….well, it was one of the things he had worried about. There was always going to be another threat. And this time? It wasn’t all glowing headlines about them saving the day, or taking down another HYDRA base. No. Like in D.C., like in Lagos, people had died. And people were angry. The question was what would come after this. Would any action be done or would people move on? Only time would tell it seemed. 

If Bucky could stay with those memories, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But he couldn’t. Because at night, especially when Kochava hadn’t decided to follow him into the apartment and sleep right against him, the nightmares remained. Waking up unable to breathe, heart rate erratic and covered in a cold sweat. Sometimes it was the orders from his handlers that whispered in the silence. Sometimes the words of Zola, his scientists. 

Bucky fucking hated scientists these days. 

The unit that had been captured behind enemy lines, and Bucky, along with Dum Dum Dugan and Gabe Jones were forced to the weapons factory along with others who had been captured. The thing Becca had been most worried about, he had been most worried about… Bucky did his best to keep track of where he was going, the path, anything, but his head was swimming. 

At some point, they arrived, and they were shoved into a cold room, each captured soldier to be examined and processed. When it was his turn, Bucky was unceremoniously pushed into the center of the room, stripped for the scientists to examine, to determine who was to go work and who was to go behind the closed doors, never to be seen again. 

It was the chuckle that sent the shiver down his spine as opposed to the coldness of the room. 

“How interesting… What have we here, Juden? You played a gamble, proved as sneaky as the rest of your kind and now you are my rat.”

Eyes blazing, Bucky growled and lunged forward only to be beaten down with what felt like an electrified baton by someone he would later learn was named Lohmer. 

“Yes, yes. Let me see your hatred. That fire. You think you are strong…” Struggling for breath, Bucky could only glare up through the pain as the scientist who was speaking came over to him, spitting at him, only to feel the electric current once more run through his body, “Oh, you will be fun to break, to become my lab rat. Make no mistake, you won’t survive this, but your contribution to the great cause will be appreciated.” Pulled up, Bucky was allowed to redress and join the others in a cell until they were all put to work. But it was clear as the days went on that he, along with certain others, were targeted by the guards for punishment. Food that wasn’t quite right. More demanding positions. Beatings. Bucky did what he could to keep track of everything, as if he might get out. But it was clear that those who were sent behind the doors, the doors the scientist promised he’d be behind, never came out. 

The worse it got, the more he struggled. The beatings were worse, he grew weaker. The others in the cell would fight, but they also bonded. Time lost meaning. So when Bucky was finally brought back and strapped to the table, he fought as best he could even as he’d been weakened by whatever food he’d been given and the constant cold and the beatings. 

“We meet again… let’s begin, shall we?”If Bucky thought it was bad before, it had just gotten so much worse. 

It was bad enough to have his mind and identity wiped, to be so scrambled he didn’t know who he was. To lose that foundational core of who he was. But to become a weapon for the group who sought to destroy his people like so many before, to kill them and erase them…. It made Bucky’s blood boil. And the anger that almost never went away with that. Kochava would jump on his lap whenever the anger was at a danger point, calm him but it was so much. It hurt so much. And there was never going to be anything he could do to atone. It wasn’t him but did that matter?

Every time a part of him came through, he was strapped down again, scrambled, so there was nothing left. They tracked him. His vitals. How many times now had Bucky tried to scratch and dig those out? Each time he thought he had gotten the last of them, of the tracking devices, the paranoid part of his brain said there was more. But no one had used them to search for him, so they had to be out… right?

It was only a few weeks after the events in Sokovia when Bucharest had its own Pride Parade. Nothing like that in New York, but apparently it had gotten over double the people this year than the previous year (over 1,000 people as opposed to 400). Bucky of course wasn’t going to go. He kept a low profile. But it was nice to see all the same. 

At the same time, while it didn’t trigger a memory per se, it did make something fall into place. Again, one of those things where he didn’t have the words necessarily back in the 30s and 40s that he had now (even as he was still wrapping his mind around it all and figuring out what worked best for him). Admittedly, he hadn’t really looked into sexuality while in New York and he likely wouldn’t while here as it didn’t seem pertinent when one was in hiding. But it was still a realization all the same. 

He had always known that having sex with a woman was not something that had any interest for him. Flirting and charming was just an act and what was expected to keep suspicion off of him. So he’d gone to the gay bathhouses whenever that mask of masculinity had been overbearing. The exploration and experimentation, learning what he liked and didn’t. Even in the heat and steam of the bathhouses, Bucky on his knees for someone, or using his hands on someone, he responded to the physical stimuli and enjoyed it, but just seeing someone? It never did anything.

Until Steve showed up in the pub in that damn suit, when Bucky’s mind was still out of sorts and all attempts to keep the barrier in place that he could only love him as a friend or brother were well and truly shattered. Because there was that connection and deep bond the two had always had. And dammit if Bucky hadn’t wanted that man to jump him there and then, despite the law. Wanted to be with him and screw what society said. No one had ever made Bucky feel the way Steve did. 

Steve eventually had said that he had never really thought about his own sexuality. Women never did anything for him, and who would want some scrawny guy anyway? He had just been waiting for the right person. Then things had clicked that night in the pub as well for him and that was all there was to it. There were appearances to be had, of course, but the two knew the truth and wasn’t that the important thing?

Steve had made his pitch for the Howling Commandos, and of course, despite it all, Bucky had agreed. Where Steve went, Bucky followed. It had always been that way, from the very beginning. It might not have seemed that way but that didn’t change the fact that it always had been. Someone had to have his back. And because Bucky had had way too many drinks by that point, trying to drown the crushing realization that he could never walk back from, he had let slip just a bit of his thoughts. His feelings. As if that declaration to follow Steve hadn’t been a declaration in and of itself. So leaning forward so only the super soldier could hear, Bucky spoke almost conspiratorially, flirting, charming. 

“You’re keeping the outfit, right?” And then leaned back with a quick once over of his best friend, because that had been smooth. No it hadn’t. Bucky, for all the suave bravado he was putting on, was still a mess from what HYDRA had done to him at Azzano. And if Steve clearly thought he was messing with him, thinking he meant the Captain America one and not what he was wearing at the moment.

“You know what, it’s kind of growing on me.”

Then a hush seemed to come over the pub as the agent walked in, so of course both stood up as she walked to where they had been sitting.

“Captain.”“Agent Carter.”

Bucky had to give her taste in the dress she wore. It was very eye-catching and he wouldn’t mind wearing something similar.

“Ma’am.” He received the briefest of acknowledgement before she turned her attention back to Steve. Yeah. That was clearly a thing.

“Howard has some equipment he would like for you to try. Tomorrow morning?” 

“Sounds good.”

“I see your top squad is prepping for duty.” With the tension between the two (how else was there to read it?) Bucky just put on the charm, the facade, that was always there, that was expected of him. 

“You don’t like music?” 

“I do, actually. I might, even, when this is all over, go dancing.” And yet she kept her attention on Steve, not even paying attention to him. Which fine. Not like he could blame her, she was seeing him the way Bucky always had. Okay, time to try harder. If only to prove to himself that he wasn't broken like Zola had promised to do to him. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” 

“The right partner. Nine sharp, Captain.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there.” 

Watching as Peggy walked away, there was only one thing that came to mind, one dangerous thing clawing at his mind that he had always avoided being. 

“I’m invisible,” To be invisible made it easier to be disappeared by people who wanted you gone. So Bucky had always been the top of his class, best at athletics, the charmer even when he never actually did anything, it was a well honed mask to protect him and it was shattered, “I’m turning into you.” Not the nicest thing to say but he was supposed to be messing with Steve, the same back and forth they always had and he couldn’t let him see the truth, “This is a horrible dream.” 

“Don’t take it so hard. Maybe she has a friend.” As Steve patted his shoulder, it was clear he had seemed to buy it. At least in that moment, which was what Bucky had wanted. Yet it still stung, so he just shook his head.

“I’m heading up for the night. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.”

Leaving the pub, Bucky headed up to where the group had been put up for their leave, showering to get a hold of himself. He knew this was how it was going to be, so he just had to pull himself together. This was why that barrier had existed in the first place. It was while he’d been toweling off after putting pajama pants on that he heard the knock at his door. And who was there but Steve. “Everything okay?” “Yeah… Can I come in?” As if Bucky would turn Steve away, he just stepped aside to let his now taller best friend in (would that ever stop being weird?). He looked… well he didn’t look drunk but like he’d been thinking over things. 

“I just want you to know, you aren’t invisible, and that I see you. The real you.” Just what was Steve on? The whole point was for him to think that he had been messing around with him like he always did. He hadn’t needed to read anything more into that. It was dangerous for him to do that.

“O…kay….” But suddenly the blond man was in his space and kissing him and he was kissing him back and nothing was making sense but everything was falling into place the way it always should have been. 

Spring turned into summer and summer turned into fall and once again it was Rosh Hashanah and once again the idea of casting tashlich seemed pointless. Because even as his memories were coming more and more, the missions, who he had been, there was still no way to make amends, there was still no way to make it right. He couldn’t even trust his own mind after all. He had found more of himself, not so much a complete balance - that could never come - but he knew who he was. Had his foundation, for there were days when he forgot all over again but the traditions remained and the memories came back. He could be more true to himself in the safety of the apartment for as long as he remained hidden. 

Bucky was eating an apple when he noticed his reflection, he had tried some makeup this time along with the skirt and blouse, hair styled, which just led to his mind drifting.

It was another stolen moment in the midst of war, doing what they could to be together and just being the same as they always had. It turned out, nothing had really changed in that regard and why should it? 

“You know, get me into a USO outfit, some Victory Red lipstick, then if someone asks you, you can just say you lost your virginity during the USO tour.” “Oh yeah?” There’s amusement in Steve’s eyes at that and Bucky is keeping the tone light even though there’s a part of him that wishes Steve knew that he wasn't actually joking. Maybe about the specific outfit, but the idea in general? To let him see that part of him?

“Yeah. I bet my legs would look amazing.” “You know? I can see it.” There’s laughter in Steve’s voice but just for a moment, Bucky lets himself imagine a time and place where he can show that part of himself to him. After the war. Where it isn’t him just joking around. Or Steve joking and Bucky hiding the truth behind a joke.

Well, Steve was never going to get to see that part of him. Like the rest of the world, he saw him as the Winter Soldier. Bucky had known from the beginning that was who he would always be now. No matter what he did, even if there were some way to atone, in the end, he had killed too many, done too much…. Steve was hunting down the Winter Soldier, so even if Bucky could trust his mind to be around Steve without the risk of hurting him again - god how could he have hurt Steve? - It was too late for them. 

The memories continued to flesh out. To become etched in Bucky’s soul over the foundation of his culture, his traditions, that grounding force that had brought him out of the Potomac River. There were memories he couldn’t tell if they were real or not, and there was no one there to tell him one way or the other. There was no way to tell, really, how long he had been out of hibernation for HYDRA either. If he weren’t on a mission, he’d been put into hibernation. 

So Bucky continued the tenuous life he had made for himself in Bucharest, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had left New York because it had been dangerous looking for answers, yet the memories had come anyway. He had known that he would always need to be ready for the worst to come and it was coming on to two years of being in the same location. Tensions hadn’t eased since the previous year and Sokovia either. No. Bucky followed the news. The fact that so many world governments were on the same page, meeting together. 

It was a recipe for disaster. 

Which was why it came as no surprise when Bucky was out getting food for the week when he felt eyes on him then that someone disappeared. Going to the newstand, he saw the news from Austria. He had apparently attacked the signing of the Sokovia Accords, killing people.

Except…. He hadn’t done that. Even with waking up at times not knowing who or where he was, he hadn’t blacked out long enough for that to be possible. Which meant it was time to leave. So much for getting the rest of his food. Bucky quickly headed to his apartment, mind going over what was needed. Well, nothing. He kept almost nothing there, just the necessities, he had his go bag still ready to go, and  he could only hope someone else would take up the cause of the stray cats abandoned to the streets. 

What he wasn't expecting (but probably should have) was to see Captain America standing in his apartment. And if he was there, others would be there soon as well. 

You’re. My. Mission.

Then finish it, cuz I’m with you to the end of the line. 

He hadn’t heard him come in yet, too engrossed in what he was reading. Which meant he had found his journal of important dates, of memories that he was trying to keep track of given there was no linear fashion to how they happened or way to tell at times. 

Thank you, Buck, but I can get by on my own. 

The thing is, you don’t have to. I’m with you to the end of the line, pal. 

“Understood.”

Captain America was talking to someone but finally seemed to realize he wasn’t alone in the apartment, and just as Bucky assumed, one of his journals of memories was in his hand as he turned to face him. 

“You know me?”

You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?Hell, no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight? I’m following him.

“You’re Steve.”

[blue-gem-overlord]

Hello, you sinners of Tumblr(or whatever this app is).

My name isn’t important, but I’m known as Jewel for the meantime. Use she/her and they/them pronouns so BE respectful or you’ll end up like those FOOLS

(Translate: Hello, you sinners of Tumblr(or whatever this app is). My name isn’t important, but I’m known as Jewel for the meantime. Use she/her and they/them pronouns so BE respectful or you’ll end up like those FOOLS)

My Princ-Charlie Morningstar(taking over her account for a while) - @charlie-morningstar666

Her stupid ass father, king of hell - @king--of--ducks

(Ooc:They’re part of the lore and yes I asked their permission-)

The ROTTEN Princess stealer/Charlie’s Angel pet - @the-moth-ex-angel

My Helper in Secret - @striker-bootleg-william-afton

Creepy Duck Sinner - @ducky-loyal-servant-of-lucifer

Some Skeleton Bitch - @dustsansm1

(Ooc:This character is mine and everyone else in this belong to Vizie. This is just for fun and drama. The art at the top belong to me. This character is cruel and mean so get ready for some mean response, but remember it’s JUST the character. I don’t intend to harm or hurt anyone at all. Also same mod who plays Charlie and Vaggie-)

(This is what Jewel look like and a few things about her-if you WANT to redesign them. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF DUCKS!! Ask permission first and then credit me(by tagging me). Don’t be jerks)

(Fanart made by @sockmanduckman . It’s so beautiful I wanna cry-)

(Another beautiful art, but this time by @lilith--morningst4r . It’s too goddamn beautiful)

(Another amazing art from @vox-tv-demon mod. Y’all making me cry)

Lore

Chapter 1

Part 1 - The Phone Call(rp with @king--of--ducks )

Part 2 - The Holy Weapon(Rp with @striker-bootleg-william-afton and yes, I asked their permission )

Part 3 -The Warning(rp with @dustsansm1 and yes I asked their permission)

Part 4 - The Meet-Up(rp with @striker-bootleg-william-afton )

Part 5 - The Reunion(rp by myself-it’s lonely and weird, but the show must go on)

Part 6 -Triggers(rp with @ducky-loyal-servant-of-lucifer )

Part 7 - A little Chat (rp by myself-yay)

Part 8 -Suspicious(Rp with @dustsansm1 )

Part 9 -Meeting an Ex’s father(rp with @king--of--ducks and MAN-it got angst)

Part 10 - More Than Anything(rp with @king--of--ducks )

Rest of chapter 1 is in @the-exes-lore ‘s pin post

[timeless-fable]

Eh fuck it . TUA!Finnegan/Slight S4 rewrite bits under the cut.

- If we're going for Finnegan being a CIA agent, I imagine he got partnered with Five due to being a loose cannon continuous misconduct and disobeying orders from his higher ups, only for the two of them to cause even more hell for their workplace together. Bit of tomfoolery if you will. Bit of mischief. And no one can stop them cause you would have to be stupid.

Keeping Lydia and Orpheus as his siblings of course, just without the supernatural elements from this RP.

- Or since some fans say Canon Five willingly being in the CIA doesn't make sense for him after the shit he put up with during his job at Commish, I'd adopt Jump's headcanon of him taking a job in CSI instead. He can still end up investigating the Keepers, maybe be under cover in the CIA with the lead that members of their ranks are hiding within the agency and he somehow ends up roping Finn into it after confirming that he's uninvolved. Either way this would pre-establish a relationship of a sort between the two.

Actually make the Keepers more of a threat here, by extension. Maybe make a connection to Abigail if we wanna make her a villain too, or some sort of connection to the Commission?

- If we DO go down the route of Finn getting his own powers... Technokinesis, maybe slight technopathy? Keep the bit of him being a tactician, eventually acts as support/navigator/mission control-type beat for the family? Apparently there was plenty of Marigold left after the siblings got their powers back so.

- Less time spent in the subway (pre established relationship there's no need to waste 6 goddamn years as an excuse for romance), have them both accidentally stumble upon it, yada yada, use it to delve more into how the subway, and by extension the alternate timelines work, use it to explore Five's probably-repressed-at-this-rate trauma about everything he's been forced to deal through, without a break I may add so that it'd make sense for him to be hesitant (Not hiding it for months, just being hesitant) once he finds the notebook showing how to get back/properly navigate. He's tired, he's done so much to protect everyone and yet no one's ever thanked him or told him he could stop. Of course he's gonna be tempted to just grab Finn and run.

Just have them utilize the subway somehow, if you're gonna note to the audience that time flows differently outside subway-limbo then have the characters use that to their advantage to buy everyone more time, for example.

- Instead of...whatever the fuck canon does, Have Five slowly open up to Finn about everything during... I'll say a week, that they're there. How he's been fighting tooth and nail for his whole life without being spared a moment to rest just so he can protect his family, his fears, his regrets, maybe that he still sometimes misses Dolores.

And Finn would promise him: "One more time, and we won't have to do this ever again." That they'll quit their crappy jobs and get their own place together. And more importantly that Five won't have to deal with everything alone anymore. What good of a partner would Finn be otherwise?

- If we DO need to keep the concept of the Cleanse, then instead of the suicide pact, have everyone band together to fight against their supposed "fate", fight against Reginald and Abigail, and fuck canon everyone actually survives in the end because they had each other!

- Just make your season's final message be that you're not alone, you're never alone and there'll always be people who love you for who you are. Let there be a focus on love, not just romantic, platonic and familial. Have the story end with everyone having a family reunion in the park, I dunno!

[delenaisepiclove]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass it on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

Hey Cosmic! Well let’s see…five fav fics that I’ve written. I’ve written a bunch on FanFiction.Net but for this post I’m going to stick with the ones I have up on ao3. First one that comes to mind is The Reunion. It’s about Faith and Buffy reuniting after her time in prison and it’s currently my most popular piece on ao3, so that makes me very happy. Not only that, it was my first time ever writing a w/w fic so to know that a lot of people liked it really meant a lot. :)

Second would have to be Partners in Crime. It’s based off of the animated show She-Ra and is centered around Catra and Adora, two of the main characters in the show. It’s another one that got a lot of attention that I really enjoyed writing. It’s very wholesome and sweet with a dash oof mischievousness thrown into it. Very very cute.

Third would be an on-going fic I’m writing called Star Crossed Enemies to Lovers. It’s a vampire fic centered on two characters from the show Killing Eve. Eve is a vampire hunter focused on hunting down a vampire named Villanelle, and the two have this back and forth cat and mouse game for awhile until feelings eventually between the characters. I only have a few chapters up and am in the process of writing the third chapter, but it’s coming along nicely and I can’t wait to post it! It’s my first vampire fic I’ve written in years so I’m pretty stoked about it. :) It’s not quite as popular as my last two but I’m hoping it’ll gain more traction as I add more chapters to it.

Fourth is A Blast from the Past, my latest Delena fanfic. This one is pretty dark, and is based off of a storyline I did on my RP account with a close friend many years ago. Damon and Elena are still vampires and have settled down, and even conceived a child together. But sometime later on down the road, something happens that causes Damon to revert back to his old ways where he only cared about Katherine and nobody else. It’s another WIP of mine and I’m not sure when I’ll have the second chapter posted. I just have fond memories of writing that with my friend and wanted to share it with more people.

And for my final story it would have to be Dark Savior. It’s another w/w fic set in the Buffy series only this time it’s centered around Faith and Willow. This is takes place during the Dark Willow arc and instead of Xander calming Willow down from her plan to end the world, it’s Faith. Unusual pairing but I think it works really well here, though I’m more of a Fuffy (Buffy/Faith) person personally.

If you’re interested in reading these stories you can find them all on my ao3 page. I only have a handful up so far so it’s not hard to find the five fics I’ve talked about in this post.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialStorm/works

[atthebell]

the thing to me about the doied stuff, and this is only partially because i hate angst so i wouldn't be that interested in it lingering, is that if it weren't for the entire shitshow that the server had already become and then worsened into, i don't think it would've taken qcellbit very long at all to figure out it wasn't actually roier. i think he would've figured it out pretty damn fast on his own, and then with pepito's help would've really been like "hey, that's not adding up," and would've gotten to the bottom of it immediately. like i'm not trying to be optimistic atp i truly think that would've been solved very quickly and we would've gotten our beautiful reunion.

but because of purgatory in the first place and then cellbit taking breaks and then the reset (where ccs were told not to do lore heavy stuff and then literally weren't able to regardless), we didn't get any of it. cellbit had to shrug off pepito's attempts at pushing him in the right direction because the admins weren't ready for it/wouldn't allow it (and because he and roier both didn't feel up for heavy rp stuff at the time), and roier never got saved and cellbit never came back to the server at all before the final event. so i think it's a bit unfair to be like "cellbit always said he'd recognize an imposter roier and then he didn't!!!!" when in point of fact he literally could not do so within rp. he had to keep his mouth shut and not get suspicious about any differences, and roier himself was barely ever rping anything differently anyway (and said so explicitly). so what we got was a whole lot of nothing, not through either of their faults (and i don't want to blame anyone other than higher ups and broader communication issues for the choices made here).

idk it just rubs me the wrong way when people ignore meta reasons for things when they really are important for this kind of stuff within the narrative. like, it's not cellbit's fault either that his murder arc got cut short and never got a conclusion-- that was directly because of purgatory! despite him being told literally days beforehand that he could keep going with the arc and get to do all the stuff he planned! it's not baghera's fault that her federation experiment stuff got dropped completely!!! it's not antoine or charlie or max or pol's faults that their shit got ruined! it's not any rper's fault that they were not communicated with appropriately/plans were abruptly changed on them and therefore they couldn't execute any of their planned lore. it's where the cards fell, because of decisions out of their control, and that blows and means there's no canonical closure, but that doesn't mean that like. qcellbit canonically failed to recognize someone else in his husband's skin. it just means that cellboier didn't get to do what they had planned (like four times over, tbc, because they had stuff planned before the eggs went missing, before purgatory, before the reset, and then even after the reset) and the story never got to be finished. which is depressing and disappointing but it feels inaccurate to frame the characters themselves as at fault.

[niderofalltrades]

The Reunion

[A closed RP starter - Any mentioned character can Interact !]

A few weeks after Nider chose to embrace the Turk's path.

Today was desk work for the bard, and as always he put all his passion and his knowledge into his work, purposely giving solutions with his analysis.

However, it was since 3 am he was working in the office, and it was at this moment it nearly hit 9 am. So the Rookie Turk handed the documents to the Director before telling him.

"If you don't mind, I would ask for a break."

And Tseng to reply, after reading with attention what his subordinate just gave him.

"You have worked well, you can take a break until 10am." Smiling brightly, Nider bent in thanks before heading out off the place, before going to the break room, Common to everyone in the floor.

He opened the door and -

"... @chaosmicjelly ?!?"

His eyes widened in surprise and emotions as he saw on the same table @shinrascomputer and Perrine, having a discussion. Memories flew, with their long years together in the spaceship, before the two have to separate ways for reason neither the two writers had already talked about.

But anyway, to hell with professionalism ! Nider ran off and took the jellyfish, bring her high.

"Bless you ! How did you manage to get there ?!"

Not only she wasn't aware the bard got a new job, in addition he didn't tell where he was setting. So yeah, he guessed it was purely by chance that Perry found this planet, then Shinra, then Lucas, and Lucas was - for once in his damn life - gentle enough to give her snacks.

Nider then approached her and give her a warm hug. She could feel that his strength has expended, due to the Mako shots.

(Credits to Milly Mitch !)

"I'm so glad You are here..." Nider said softly, tears falling in joy as he kept her close, very close. The bard's best friend was here. And he hoped she would never get away from there.

[diamondmeadow]

ooh, I'm curious about Edinburgh Epic! 👀

So Edinburgh Epic is actually a strange thing, and I could talk about it forever. It is basically an idea that I used for one of my roleplays, which is now discontinued, but the whole premise is just too good to pass on, and I really hope I can turn it into a fic one day using my writing from it. The scary thing is, it can be nothing but a multichapter, possibly a very very long one at that, and I'm not very brave when it comes to longfic. It's sort of a band AU but not really at all. It takes place in Edinburgh, that's why Edinburgh Epic. Sirius trying to patch things up with the rest of the Marauders after he disappeared for five years after their graduation. He suddenly appears at their uni reunion and well, shit goes down. The reason for his disappearance silly as it can only get; he thinks Remus and James are in love (which isn't true, but it's still complicated). But of course, he's been pining for so long. And maybe Remus has been pining too, but god, they are oblivious. Sirius is not a very good person in this premise, but I love the idea of him as a very flawed being very much. It makes me want to write the fic all the more. There is a whole extensive lore for this that came around while the roleplay was going on, and much of it can't be used because the ideas are not all mine, but I'm hopeful I can rework it.

There are also a lot of graphics I made for the rp (fictional album covers), so posting some here for fun as well as a snippet I wrote for the rp.

If it's to any interest haha.

There he is. He is! This isn't a joke, but that's no surprise. Sirius could never doubt Remus after all; the other has never given him any reason to. Unlike Sirius, who's been giving them to everyone around him. His brows knit in an unconscious pained look, not because of his injuries, but because of the way Remus is looking at him. Sirius doesn't know what to do with himself. It is bright enough with all the city night lights, not like back in the quad with Reg, but Sirius now wishes it was the other way around. It's hard to look into the face of things he has done. Into Remus' face where it is all being reflected, the black eye that he's given him by an accident a burning testimony. Sirius wants to reach out, let his fingers apologise for him. Well, that privilege he lost years ago. And yes, Sirius has his reasons for everything, yes, he does, but no one is asking, no one is interested. Honestly, at this point he starts believing that's how that ought to be. He doesn't deserve forgiveness. He doesn't deserve a chance to explain. He doesn't deserve to be anywhere near Remus nor James nor Peter, nor anyone really. His eyes fall down to his own feet and watch his own steps as he follows Remus, wherever he os taking them. Just say something, anything. Whoever the thought is directed to. I'm sorry. Remus, Moony, Moons, I'm so terribly sorry. Looking up just enough to see the way Remus' pace looks strained and heavy, the way he is gripping at his cane, Sirius feels a pang of pain somewhere near his heart. Very real physical pain coupled with his lung feeling as if someone kept stomping on them. Remus, how are you? What can I do? Let me ... take ... Then Sirius hears him, sees the napkin at the edge of his vision. They stop. Sirius reaches out for the offered item, his fingers hesitating for a millisecond; does he have any right to accept the kindness? Remus, always thinking of others when the only person he should be thinking about is himself. Remus, who absolutely wouldn't accept others thinking about him the same way in spite of the fact he would give himself and his everything to anyone who asked. No, actually people don't even have to ask. Remus. At last, Sirius clutches the napkin in his hand, then in the other, finally neatly folding it, smoothing it on his palm, before pressing it under his nose. He inhales, closing his eyes, a familiar scent hitting his nostrils, but when he looks again, there's no trace of blood on the pristine fabric. It knows too. In itself or as a part of Remus even the napkin's rejecting him. "I... tried to clean up before. And now the blood's all dried up and won't really ... come off. That's okay." His voice comes off a little shaky as he rambles. Sirius is ashamed of how much the events of the night are affecting him. He is afraid Remus might come to pity him. But he's worthy of none of that genuine compassionate feeling the other is so capable of. Sirius quickly pushes the napkin into the pocket on his trousers instead before Remus can ask for it. At least... let me have this. Sirius looks up quickly. Is it okay? "How is your eye? Does it hurt very much?" No improvement shows in his voice. A car's passed them just as he speaks up again and his question is drowned in the sounds of the engine. He steps closer and repeats. "Does your eye hurt very much?"

[kokorowoutsu]

-- RP: @skullboneandunown

skullboneandunown:

"Neat. Gonna catch me some later. I got some Pokemon living in the forest around my house, they could use more company." He had a sizable property, and a lot of pokemon that lived there. He wonders if he should tell her about the other Paradox Pokemon he has with him, an Iron Valiant, but decides to hold off on that for now. "Well...I'll scan that orb before we leave then." Jawbreaker all but jumps into the water, startling away some bird and fish Pokemon. He pays them no mind, although he does snag a Tentacool in his jaws and swallows it after crushing it. ".....I guess he was hungry." He takes an Ultra Ball from his satchel, and sends out his shiny Gyarados, Rampage. The Atrocious pokemon glances around, confused about his surroundings before turning around and spotting his trainer. "Hey big guy!" Rampage leans down to nudge Donovan affectionately, almost knocking him down. "I know, I know. I'm sorry it's been so long Red."

It was better not to tell her about the paradox pokemon considering she was still scarred from Area Zero. That being said, she gave a nod to his decision on catching more pokemon. "Have at it, i'm going to just take a walk with Lucky. I'll let you know when it's time to head into the reunion."

Upon seeing the large Gyarados, Ashe can't help but smile. She got along just fine with Vivian, so there was no fear from her on the behemoth that he called 'Rampage'... however, seeing Jawbreaker catch a Tentacool and lazily chomp on it, she flinches just a bit. "Try not to eat all the pokemon, Jawbreaker!" She calls, if only to remind him there were kids who hadn't yet been tainted by the harshness of life.

With that said, Lucky took her hand and led her away to walk the beaches of the Coastal Biome. Many familiar pokemon laid here, almost reminding her of the Aether Foundation to some degree. Seeing some Popplio with their mother Primarina nearby brought a smile to her face and stopping to admire the Alolan Exeggutor for as weird as they were being happy had her smiling as well. Alola had always been a good place for her so all Alolan pokemon were welcome sights.

[ask-dametagala]

Hey folks! Welcome to the very important pinned post!

Here you shall see the current rules and arcs we have going on:

What are the rules?

Make sure the check the blog description to see the available characters you can ask if you're new to the blog.

Ocs and rp are allowed! However, rps must be short. Only brief, short interactions are allowed.

Ocs must not interfer or alter the story too much. Any drastic changes won't be allowed. (E.g: killing a main character, helping the characters kill someone, any action that diverge from the plot,....)

Be nice in general. I mean thats VERY vague but i trust you all can behave.....right? :')

(More will be added in the future as we go on, but hopefully that won't happen too much lol)

What are the current arcs?

We just finished the Reunion arc. Which is the period where Dark Meta Knight meets up with Galacta Knight again for the 2nd time right after this story. (Highly suggest reading before scrolling through this blog)

Now we're moving onto a new arc, stay tuned.

-All posts related to the arc will be tagged properly with their names. (E.g: #reunion arc)

-Asks and one shots that don't belong to any arc will be tagged as #Off story shenanigans

REBOOT!

That's right!!! After all these years, the lore and characterization of these two have significantly changed. So that means i'll be planning out a different story in the meantime! Theres a chance i'll be free enough in December to do it, once again having the story take place near Christmas LMAO

[spooksgrove]

COMPREHENSIVE PINNED DETAILS FOR SHADY GROVE CLOSED RP  !! 

if you still haven’t sent in your muse info or blog but want to participate ,,  get me this info by tomorrow ( sunday ) when we will begin writing !!  i do not have access to ims/messages on this account still thanks to tumblr shadowban ,, so communicate with me through inbox messages pls !!!!!!!

don’t use any problematic fcs pls- if you have to ask, assume the answer is no.

                          **all muses AND fcs must be between ages 32-55**

— wow, i haven’t seen FIRST NAME LAST NAME in ages!  IC PRONOUNCS look(s) just like FACECLAIM now.  did you hear the rumor: SECRET ABOUT YOUR MUSE THAT THEIR FORMER CLASSMATES DON’T KNOW.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( OOC ALIAS/NAME  / discord#id if u want the ooc discord server )

current taken fcs:  bradley cooper  ,,  aubrey plaza  ,,  tom hardy  ,,  gemma chan  ,,  tiffany boone  ,,  roberta colindrez  ,,  daniel henney  ,,  oliver jackson-cohen  ,,  jessica chastain  ,,  phillipa soo  ,,  anna diop  ,,  nathalie emmanuel  ,,  jenny slate  ,,  ben barnes  ,,  daveed diggs

here’s how it’s going to work:

there will be a short term writing group ( ~2-4 weeks depending on how much we wanna keep going ) about muses who are adults ( 32-55 yrs old ) renting a large haunted airbnb house together as they go back to their hometown to attend their high school reunion.  there can be angsty, dramatic, fun connections all around but all muses are loosely tied together as part of a former high school friend group. 

here is the link to the full plot !!

basics for the closed group:

ideally we’ll have 5-15 muns;  all muns must be 18+

muns can play 1 or 2 muses if they wish

everyone will need to make a dedicated blog for the duration of the group to keep things clean

super low pressure— the group will NOT have a traditional “main”, no formal rules, no admin oversight or activity checks

similar to indie rp  ( i will organize this and get everyone together/make plot announcements, but i will not be babysitting yall so pls be aware of that ♡ )

all ic interactions will take place on tumblr dash

follow list - will update as yall send me ur muse accounts !!  

@falsd

@burninghoused

@spooksgrove

@rachel–goldmann

@ericak

@hxmlocks

@zoeyfms

@aminatheebelle

@jemandtonic

@spooksat

@burnthcwitch​

tag all muse intros with shadyintro ,, tag all open starters with shadyopen.  you can link these in the appropriate discord channels as well !! 

full muse list: 

— wow, i haven’t seen MARCUS COHEN in ages!  HE look(s) just like BEN BARNES now.  did you hear the rumor: SINGLE FATHER AFTER HIS PARTNER DISAPPEARED  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( KORE )

— wow, i haven’t seen RACHEL GOLDMANN in ages!  SHE look(s) just like JENNY SLATE now.  did you hear the rumor:  SHE STOLE THE MONEY THAT ASHER MURPHY TOOK THE FALL FOR.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( nico ) 

— wow, i haven’t seen JEMMA ‘JEM’ LYONS  in ages!  SHE/THEY look just like NATHALIE EMMANUEL now.  did you hear the rumor: THEY FAKED THEIR GRANDMOTHER’S WILL TO INHERIT EVERYTHING.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( ali ) 

— wow, i haven’t seen AMINA BELLE in ages!  SHE look(s) just like ANNA DIOP now.  did you hear the rumor:  SHE HOOKED UP WITH A LONGTIME FRIEND JUST BEFORE MAKING THINGS OFFICIAL WITH HER NOW SPOUSE.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( dany )

— wow, i haven’t seen ZOEY LI in ages!  SHE/THEY look just like PHILLIPA SOO now.  did you hear the rumor:  THEY SLEPT WITH A PRODUCER TO GET THEIR OWN COMEDY SPECIAL.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( MAEBY )

— wow, i haven’t seen DREA ANTHONY in ages! They look just like TIFFANY BOONE now. did you hear the rumor: THEY BURNED DOWN THE AUDITORIUM AFTER NOT GETTING A ROLE IN THE MUSICAL. it’ll probably come to light at the reunion! ( shay )

— wow, i haven’t seen LAURENT TAVELLE in ages! They look just like DAVEED DIGGS now. did you hear the rumor: HE’S AN ACTUAL WITCH. it’ll probably come to light at the reunion! ( shay )

— wow, i haven’t seen ERICA KENNEDY in ages!  SHE look(s) just like JESSICA CHASTAIN now.  did you hear the rumor:  she's allergic to kiwis - jk, SHE NEVER FORMALLY GRADUATED FROM COLLEGE BUT TELLS EVERYONE SHE DID AND BUILT HER CAREER ON A LIE.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( charley )

— wow, i haven’t seen JACK MEDINA in ages!  THEY/THEM look just like ROBERTA COLINDREZ now.  did you hear the rumor:  THEY'RE TRYING TO ADOPT A CHILD.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( elodie  )

— wow, i haven’t seen HENRY DANVERS in ages!  HE/HIM looks just like DANIEL HENNEY now.  did you hear the rumor:  HE'S RECENTLY DIVORCED.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( elodie )

— wow, i haven’t seen ASHER MURPHY in ages!  he/him look(s) just like OLIVER JACKSON-COHEN now.  did you hear the rumor:  ASHER TOOK THE BLAME AND WENT TO PRISON FOR A CRIME A LOVED ONE COMMITTED. it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( moxi )

— wow, i haven’t seen JULIET TSUI in ages!  SHE/HER look(s) just like GEMMA CHAN now.  did you hear the rumor:  SHE IS ADDICTED TO HER ANXIETY MEDICATION.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( moon )

— wow, i haven’t seen JASPER DUNNE in ages!  HE/HIM looks just like TOM HARDY now.  did you hear the rumor:  HE STARTED A FIRE AT HIS TWIN BROTHER’S PLACE DUE TO BEING TOO HIGH WHILE PRACTICING RECIPES AND FALLING ASLEEP.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( moon ) 

— wow, i haven’t seen MILO HOFFMAN in ages!  HE/HIM looks just like BRADLEY COOPER now.  did you hear the rumor:  HE HAS AN OUTSTANDING WARRANT THAT COULD LAND HIM IN JAIL. it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( jeep )

— wow, i haven’t seen ISABEL VELEZ in ages!  SHE/HER looks just like AUBREY PLAZA now.  did you hear the rumor: SHE’S BEEN FUNNELING CAMPAIGN FUNDS TO SOMEONE CLOSE TO HER ILLEGALLY.  it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( jeep ) 

— wow, i haven’t seen OLIVIA HOFFMAN in ages!  she/her look(s) just like JESSICA ALBA now.  did you hear the rumor:  SHE IS PREGNANT FROM HER EX HUSBAND AND HE DOESN'T KNOW YET. it’ll probably come to light at the reunion!  ( moxi )

[thistleandthorn-rpg]

Congrats Tyler on your audition for Tristan Clarington! Please send his blog within 48 hours! **Tristan is brand new and was not here previously**

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias: Tyler Preferred pronoun: he/him/his  Age: 28 Timezone/Country: EST/US RP Experience: A lot. Activity Level: 9/10

IC INFORMATION:

Name: Tristan Clarington Designation: Dominant Age: 27 Birthdate: June 4, 1996 Faceclaim: Brandon Larracuente  Orientation: Pansexual Kinks: Bondage, Impact, Muscle/Body Worship, Orgasm Denial, Public play, humiliation, roleplay, open to anything not on the anti-kinks. Anti-Kinks: Cutting, Needles, Basically just run it by me if it's not on the kink list, just in case. :)

Key Points: 

Distinguished

Confident

Soft-Spoken

Determined 

BIO:

Clarington. It was a name that wielded power without trying. The patriarch of the family had made sure of that. On the whole, Tristan despised his father. He was an antiquated, power-hungry asshole without the bandwidth to evolve with the times. Tristan had always been mature for his age, and while he went along with the path their father set for the family's sons well enough, he lost his patience when Gunner was essentially exiled after coming out. He kept his mouth shut as long as needed, smiling and nodding the time away until he went off to the army with his brothers. After accepting a scholarship with the ROTC program, he opted for a later deployment. He took his full ride, bolstered with his father’s checkbook to cover additional costs, and went off to the prestigious Ivy League school, Columbia University in New York City, and pursued business. With the tuition money laid out and living expenses covered, Tristan cut himself off from his father. He was determined to launch his own empire. Sure, his father’s money and connections got him on the right path, but in a way, it felt poetic to take his privilege and weaponize it against the Colonel. Furthering his dedication to his cause was his chance reunion with his twin brother, Gunner. Finding each other in New York City, Tristan was patient but relentless in his attempt to convince Gunner that he’d never given up on him and that he’d always been on his side. After a long but perfectly understandable length of time, they rekindled their brotherhood. Tristan promised Gunner he’d join him at the same academy after he got far enough in his education at Columbia.

Obtaining top marks in school and making his own connections along the way, Tristan opted to spend more time earning his degree to secure his place in the world before setting off to enroll at Stonewall. He worked at a big-time firm in the city for a CEO on the verge of retirement. With only about 5-10 years of employment left, the CEO agreed to sign the company over to Tristan once he was ready, meaning graduated, claimed, and finished with his service in the army. He knew showing up at Stonewall when he did meant less time, age-wise, to find a claim, but quite frankly, he wasn’t bothered by the time crunch. Plagued by good looks and limitless charm, Tristan was perhaps overly confident in his ability to find a claim quickly, especially upon arriving and receiving the Dominant mark, which he’d always considered himself best suited for.

Stonewall Academy was the beginning of the rest of his life. He’d find his claim, graduate, and then color the name ‘Clarington’ in a different, decidedly more vibrant shade. He detested the legacy his father was so proud of and was eager to besmirch it in every way imaginable.

BIO QUESTIONS:

What are your feelings about the mark you have received?  - I'm pleased. You don't come from a family like mine not thinking you're suited for the Dominant mark. It's a shame we couldn't all be marked appropriately, but I intend to make the most out of my good fortune.

How do your feelings on the system compare to your parents’ feelings on it? - Like my parents, I appreciate the societal order it maintains. Unlike my parents, I recognize it's faults - like marking Archer submissive, for instance. There are glaring issues in the marking process that require serious attention, but beyond the assignment of the marks, I respect and appreciate the system.

Where do you see yourself after you graduate?   - In a word; successful - married, claimed, a tycoon in the business world with multiple homes and a legacy all my own. I want to sneer down at my father from my own, superior place in the world - and I will. I must.

How do you feel about authority? - I respect it when it's earned - and yes, I'll be the judge of who deserves said respect. When I'm in a position of authority - which is often - I demand respect and will respond accordingly if it isn't given. I'll leave it at that.

[wardenred]

Flash Fic Masterpost

All the original flash fic and snippets ever posted on this blog,to be updated sporadically.

Post-Final Girls 'Verse

In a dystopian world of cyberpunk and superpowers, three women keep coming together and apart. Snippets in chronological order:

Back in High School (Flo and Mel snip at each other about Jules)

Back in High School-2 (Flo and Jules talk about robots and kindness)

As an Experiment (Jules gets Flo to try living together)

Like Gravity (a typical instance of Flo and Mel running into each other)

Kitchen Talk (Jules & Flo, ethical disagreements in some unidentified probably peaceful time)

Pillow Talk (another moral conundrum convo)

"But what does it do?" (Flo gets a regular piercing that isn't a cyberpunk device; Jules is suspicious)

Anniversary (Flo takes Jules out on anniversary date and possibly does some crime on the side)

To Make Amends (an AU version of Flo and Mel being led to reconnect and start working together, based on an early iteration of the outline)

Language of the Revolution (based on an actual scene from the draft)

"I thought you were dead" (an AU where Mel gets captured by the Big Damn Villain; in the actual draft, it's Flo who draws this short stick)

The Morning After (the immediate aftermath of book one)

A Hologram (Jules & Flo beyond the city limits)

Plastic and Chrome (Mel: meanwhile in X-City...)

Hypervigilance (Flo tries to be introspective about her feelings for Mel; takes part after Flo and Jules leave the city, technically, but is really an extended flashback)

Neon and Moonlight (Flo, Jules, a brief trip back to the civilization)

Letters (Jules starts writing to Mel)

Numbers and Pixels, Smoke and Mirrors (on the verge of a reunion in VR)

Extra: a trilogy of whumptember snippets set in the same universe, probably in a different city, with charaters I know little about other than that they want me to know more and write a book about them:

[1], [2], [3] (captivity, brainwashing)

Tales from the Witch House 'Verse

In a kitchen sink urban fantasy world, a bunch of young supernaturals are squatting in a derelict house under the protection of a mysterious witch who claims to have their best interests at heart.

Tim and Leo Angst

Tim and Leo Fluff

"I hate this song" (takes place soon after the one linked above)

Xan and Gella Fluff

Flame & Moth 'Verse

Based on a RP my friend and I have had going on for year. A potentially evil superhero agency, an amnesiac pyrokinetic searching for the truth of his past, a villain who keeps showing up to save him and make his life harder. You know, the fun stuff. Snippets in roughly chronological order:

Out of the Rubble (one of the many instances of the villain coming to the rescue; written for whumptember)

"Is that blood?" (sometimes, Flame can rescue himself! with a little help from his Agency partner Batshit)

Searching for memories in a house on fire (Flame, mortal peril, Moth shows up right on time; written for whumptember)

"There's nothing I can do" (Flame looses a trainee)

Oops, the Agency isn't happy (look, Flame's suffering again; written for whumptember)

Flame is getting rescued from the above predicament (or is he?)

"You said I'd be safe here" (right, apparently he did get rescued)

You Can Doom Everyone (maybe it's a nightmare sequence, maybe it's not)

Bonus: same universe, different hero and villain Bonus-2: not sure this takes place in the same universe... but hero and villain, too

More Than We'll Never Know 'Verse

Snippets related to an ongoing WIP set in a D&D-esque world of adventurers, living legends, and evil capitalism. Mostly focused on a single messy adventuring found family of six.

A version of Vezee and Dagatha's first meeting

A random corn maze adventure

Bariq Being Bariq

Ice by the Fire (Sufjen and Vel getting to know each other)

Trinket (Sufjen and Vel late-book fluff)

Tired of Fighting (Bariq being a shitty friend to Vel)

"Your Magic Is Awesome" (Rinouk being a good friend to Vel)

The perils of getting too close to the villain, might be where the plot is headed, might be an AU/theoretical snippet

Not Mad, Just Disappointed (Dagatha reconnects with her mentor, sort of)

"It's a trial, not a party" (fluffy Dagatha/Vezee sequel to the above)

Vezee and Dagatha's Happy Ending (possible version)

Unwanted Rescue (it is possible Bariq will continue being himself even after the end of the story... or maybe I'll figure out how to give him a better arc after all)

And maybe sometime after the ending Vel and Sufjen will adopt a baby dragon: [1] [2]

Champagne Problems 'Verse

Snippets related to an ongoing WIP set in a city full of corrupt nobles, eldritch cults, angsty magic Academy students, portals that might connect all that to our world, and lying liars who lie.

Secret Meeting (prior to the book's events Elair meets with his evil employer)

Not At All Serious (pre-book Elair, the perils of falling in love under a fake identity)

Rainy Day (pre-book Elair and Miq fluff)

Sweet Tooth (more pre-book Elair and Miq fluff)

Outdoor Event (even more pre-book Elair and Miq fluff)

Practice at the City Hall (pre-book Elair and Miq again, poor Miq is clearly planning the proposal at the end there...)

"I've Got You" (Elair and Miq fluff, just might be a rough draft for late in the book)

Cults and Blood Sacrifices (absolutely unrelated to the book's events, I don't know these characters; absolutely takes place in Mramorsten, though; written for whumptember)

Kingdom in Peril Plot Bunny Exploration

Just a bunch of characters and a slowly forming setting existing rent-free in my mind. No idea where I'm going with all of this, but the journey will involve court intrigue, royals behaving badly, randomly appearing gothic vibes, mysterious dark threats, and possibly soulmates.

Surprise Visitor on a Rainy Evening

No One's Happy about Going to the Royal Court

Oh, Look, the King Has a Brother (He's My Favorite)

Royal Siblings Flashback

Alita Alone in the Garden

Royal Chessboard

Random Randomness

Consider this a catch-all category that I may eventually reorganize by genre.

Dead Gurdian's Dolmen (fantasy, worldbuilding-focused)

The Frozen Giant (sci-fantasy, worldbuilding-focused)

Dragons are fairly splenetic creatures (cozy fantasy, predictably turned into a trilogy of novels with one drafted already :D)

Bucolic Living (cozy lovecraftian post-apocalypse)

Sapphic September: Portal Fantasy (YA, parallel worlds)

"Our job isn't to too god, it is to make right" (fantasy, gods and heroes that fight them, evil mentor, written for whumptember)

An unplanned sequel to the above (in which things get darker)

"Let me do this for you" (fantasy, some kind of secret agents, self-sacrifice, written for whumptember)

Sapphic September: 3 AM (some kind of post-break-up drama?)

"Don't come home" (dark fairytale with a soul-eating dragon)

Around the Oak (a weird sapphic time warp flash fic)

"This was always going to happen" (fantasy, character death, guard captain x spy)

"If that's what it takes" (fantasy, an adventurer attempts to rescue her brother from an evil wizard; written for whumptember)

Mother's Matchmaking (space opera/melodrama of manners, enemies-to-lovers, will be a book someday)

The summer weeks by the sea are long (a sapphic vacation with revelations)

Life on Mars (sometimes, people just keep coming back and you can never let them go)

Dystopia Tropes (random modern-day slice-of-life romance)

Waiting for a Call (angsty sapphic magical girls)

Always Sunny (a monster hunter comes back to her hometown to reconnect with her ex-girlfriend, definitely will be a book someday)

Home (mad science and eldritch tentacles, written for whumptember)

Gears (a steampunk tinkerer and a rogue, for Sapphic September)

The Better Bad Idea (something something sapphic Regency-inspired fantasy, for Sapphic September)

"There are no aliens on the abandoned atomic station" (something something scientist and journalist, for Sapphic September)

Fool's Gold (a dark fantasy snippet, friends to enemies)

When you're escaping confinement, why not take your captor with you, right (written for whumptember, hero and villain)

Dreamscape Navigation (pretty much a novelization of a stray magic system... or a flashficization, rather)

On the Porch (a half-baked tropey idea about sisters reconnecting because of a condition in their grandmother's will)

What You Swore to Destroy (angsty YA horror with a touch of eldritch past lives)

Lessons in Failure (not all heroes get good mentors)

Picking Cherries (something very random; kids and cherries sometimes make things better)

A Maybe, a What If, an Almost (stream of consciousness friends-to-enemies flash fic)

Won't Forget (tiny 100-words drabble about memory spells)

Also, a whumptember two-parter with potential for more parts about a sassy imprisoned prince:

[1] [2] (warnings: imprisonment, sensory deprivation, torture)

And another whumptember two-parter: in part one, someone just tries to survive in a city his twin has ruined; in part two, the twin is in an even worse pickle.

#iHunt Rpg Fanfic (based loosely on a campaign I was in, you don't need to know anything about the game, it's just a small wrong number flash fic)

My tag for all the flash fiction and snippets: #warden's random scribbles.

[championofwit]

INTRO POST!!!

Hey Tumblr!! It's Marcy Wu, head of the chess club, master RTS player, and the first person to blog from a world of talking amphibians!! Yep, that's right - TALKING AMPHIBIANS!

I got sent to this weird place called Amphibia with my friends. We got zapped by this weird music box we... FOUND and BOUGHT from a thrift shop.

Anyways, enough of that!

ASK ME ALL OF YOUR QUESTIONS!! I CAN TELL YOU SO MUCH ABOUT THE BUGS, THE FLOWERS, THE SPECIES-BASED CASTE SYSTEM HERE... oh man this is PARADISE!

Oh, and if anyone hears anything about my friends Anne and Sasha... could you tell me? I've been looking for them.

---

OOC:

Hi everyone!! This is an RP blog run by @calamitydarcy :] more info in the "What's this?" page found here!! Copy-pasted contents under the cut for anyone who can't access it:

This is an Amphibia RP blog run by @calamitydarcy.

Other blogs in the group:

@amphibiangod – The Core

@Way-Too-Bright – Sasha Waybright

Q&A

Q: Who runs this blog?

A: Hey! I’m Aster (it/he/they) :] My main blog is @calamitydarcy, as listed above!

Q: Can I join?

A: Sure! Feel free to make an account for a character that’s not already here and hop on in :] Please be sure to message either @calamitydarcy or @sparkbugs to let us know if you do!

Q: Can I send asks/participate without creating my own RP account?

A: Of course! Feel free to send any of us asks or engage with us! That’s why we’re doing this on Tumblr, after all :]

Q: Do you have a planned storyline?

A: At the moment, not really! It’s currently just “what if Marcy figured out how to access Tumblr from Amphibia” and the resulting shenanigans and schemes.

Q: When in canon does this take place?

A: We’re starting sometime between Reunion and early season 2!

[enolareven]

[FFXIV RP/OC Short Story]

Nergui Qestir - A Mystery Unveiled

(part 3)

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

"...fire rocks...ice rocks...that's it."

Nergui closed the notebook on his desk after a few strokes of a quill pen, and set the inventory/order list beneath the counter to be opened another night before the next opening.

The final morning of Heavensturn week had been a cheerful and interesting one. He closed his eyes to reflect and smiled, honestly hoping in his heart that he had provided valueable guidance to several Eorzean adventurers over the past few days.

He then opened his eyes and turned them to the lilac wood shelf beside the large tome of void magics, where he had set aside his own crystal guides: the obsidian and turquoise. He slid them into a secure pocket of his woolen coat along with his yol whistle, and grabbed a small satchel of essentials on the way out the door. It was time to heed the stones' advice and make a visit to someone who could help him.

For Nergui, the quickest way to the Steppes would of course be through aetheryte travel. He thought for a moment how privileged he must be to tolerate frequent travel in addition to being attuned all over Hydaelyn, and focused on the large blue crystal he wished to bring himself to. In a swirl of dark blue, he dissolved and sent his aether to the other side of the world in mere seconds.

Once his aether had properly materialized again, he smiled and looked up. The Steppe sky was a majestic expanse over a wide field, surrounded by mountains that seemed to isolate it from the rest of the world, making it feel like its own private one. He turned his attention down to the earth's level, and watched a few merchants walking by. One of them gave him a familiar wave, which he returned.

This was Reunion, the home of his tribe and open market overseen by them to promote peace, prosperity and cooperation between tribes as well as outside peoples.

Behind him was the iloh of the Qestir khan, where his grandmother often stayed as an advisor, healer and respected shaman. It was she who taught him his first magic spell, and she who he had come to visit.

Nergui took a deep breath and clutched the stones in his pocket, taking them out to hold over his heart.

"What is it you wish me to know?"

He marched forward intently and entered the iloh, pushing its scaffold aside and immediately bowing with respect as he came under its roof.

At the far side sat the leader of the Qestir, their khan Iturgen. He and the bodyguard beside him both nodded a welcome to Nergui as a white-haired elderly woman slowly walked toward him. She looked up at her grandson with joy in her eyes, as always. Nergui smiled warmly down at his grandmother, who stood at only half his height, if that. He stepped down onto one knee to give her a hug and then sat back on both to rest just below her eye level.

It was the way of the Qestir never to speak. This was a rule Nergui respected as part of the tribe whenever he was home, and sometimes in the presence of one outside the Steppe. Though he himself had not much problem with words, it was a way of honoring his culture and heritage. He was still and always would be a Qestir.

His grandmother watched attentively, knowing he had not come to visit again for any frivolous reason. Nergui slowly took the smooth obsidian and turquoise stones from his pockets and held them out in both hands to show them to her.

She looked down at them curiously, and then back at Nergui's red-violet eyes that seemed to thirst for answers. She needed no more than a minute to understand that these crystals were messages recieved in meditation recently.

She took both stones into her small, deep blue hands with care, and gazed into them for a moment before placing them back in her grandson's. Nergui watched with intrigue as she turned and walked away, leaving the khan's iloh and motioning for him to follow.

[ask-dr-knockout]

Perfection through Deception

(Oneshot Takes Place after the events in @tyrantofthefirmament  and @ask-dr-knockout “Reunion” RP Story)

Previously: Knockout had just arrived back at the Autobot base after coming across the gravely Injured Starscream out in the wastes of Cybertron. Soon after he leaved the Seeker behind but only after secreting him away to his once old base of black market operations. For his trouble in helping the former Air Commander he is covered in scratches and rust dust grime while forced to contend with an very irritated Ultra Magnus upon his return.  As discipline for his negligence to report in to the rest of the Autobot team while on patrol Knockout is sent off to monitor duty without the opportunity to clean up his damaged pride first.  A punishment detail Knockout is remiss to follow.

Knockout stormed into the monitoring room barely containing his ire! His claws raked across the border of the entrance with an unpleasant shriek. The sound alone causing the occupant in the room to startle in their seat. “What the Scarp!? Oh… Knock Out… It’s just you… You mind not defacing the brand new base I thought you were the one saying we need to wax every surface…” Arcee had only briefly glanced back to catch the other in the corner of her optic between monitoring what looked like a shadow on the west perimeter. After a zoom in yielded only a wayward turbo mouse she continued. “Sooo…Judging from the entrance… What has you grinding gears this time?- Wait don’t tell me, you ran out of polish? or Ratchet had you pulling a double shift?… hurm No?… OH Smokescreen stole your buffer again!” Arcee shot off with practiced interest. Her speech dry as per tradition between their interactions during their shift changes.

Knockout rolled his optics at her for good measure. There was something familiar however… and almost welcoming about the unwarranted sass that Arcee brought to the table it reminded him of simpler times sometimes… Knockout relaxed slightly despite himself. He fell into a new but somewhat normal routine with the warrior Fem and that was one of the few things he could appreciate.

“Maybe if you turned around to greet me like a normal civilized Cybertronian you could see it for yourself!” he huffed back crossing his arms indignantly. “Oooo… Yep that’s bad.” Arcee cringed in sympathy for once as she spun around having finished her log to see what terrible oh so horrible thing had befallen the ever dramatic Knockout this time. 

“YES IT IS! And the Big Blue himself has deemed it acceptable for THIS-” he motioned to his entire body exasperated. “ –to remain until my monitoring shift is over so~ if you wouldn’t mind hurrying up and vacating the preemies!!! ~Please my dear~ I would like to get on with it!” “What no elaborate story telling today Knockout? I’m Shocked! Surely this all must come with a long winded tale that should garner my sympathy? I’m so disappointed in you!” Arcee gave a fake pout. Getting up from her seat in her ever typical way she tilted her hips while crossing her arms with an amused smirk.

“I could always tell you about the time Rats Infeste a Vehicons Interior again if you like seems right up your interest with organics and all… Arcee…” He scoweled. “heh so its going to be like that tonight I see… It’s a shame I might have fetched you your Buffer.” She flashed Knockout a knowing look.  “Arcee…Trust me when I say a BUFFER isn’t enough for this atrocity to my finish! Now in the words of our esteemed rusty CMO “YEP YEP YEP” and get out of this room before I throw you out!” “Careful I will tell Ratchet you stole that from him.” Arcee giggled lightly amused.

Knockout didn’t reply but simply ex-vented waving a hand to shoo her away he was done talking. He took a seat as dignified as he possibly could manage while picking at his back or rather trying to… Arcee’s optics softened a bit as she got a look at him when the doctor turned his back to her. She never had seen Knockout in this state before; well not since New York and the Train incident that shall not be named. Something out of the ordinary was definitely going on with him. Perhaps later when he had a chance to clean up he would come back to air his grievances like he usually did. It wasn’t like him to hold back like this. “You know my com is always open if you get bored.” Arcee smiled patting Knockout on the shoulder as she left.

“Watch the Fin-“ Arcee had already exited, the door sliding shut. “-oh why do I even care at this point…” he sighed while logging into the monitoring systems at least now he had some peace and quiet.   Suddenly an image of Starscreams broken dead body laying out in an abandoned scrap pile shot across his processor. He flinched.

That was right… He, had bigger things to worry about now. Knockouts processor raced with all the possibilities of how he could be punished for this and for a moment Knockout wondered if he should even go back. “who can blame a monster for acting as a monster would”

Uhg Right, so how to go about this then.

…

Knockouts fingers rapt the keypad in bored chorus the glow of the monitors playing out before optics that stared out into the vast space of thought beyond. He realized his greatest risk would be his location beacon. If he simply returned to the same place he had been before it would raise far too much suspicion putting him and Starscream at risk of discovery. But if he simply switched off his locator beacon that would be suspicious and call his loyalties into question too.

Think Knockout think! He inspected the scalpel like edges of his finger tips as he idly spun in his chair.

There was always a way to play the system he used to do this all the time. If only he could just be in two places at once this wouldn’t be an issue! He groaned leaning back the metal chair conforming to his weight its mechanisms creaking slightly with its constant use.  

A few seconds later and Knockout Snapped his talons! That was it!

He Spun in his chair around excitedly using the motion to make sure nothing, or no one was watching him besides the security feeds above him.

Of course he could not be in two places at once physically speaking, but~ he was certainly capable of creating that illusion.

Soundwave wasn’t the only hacker with a few tricks up his subspace pocket.

Typing away at the consul he accessed the security feed logs. Once inside the mainframe Knockout began to work as if he was simply reviewing the previous surveillance data as per usual.

Unbeknownst to the surveillance above him a small data cable had slipped out from his wrist holding a compact data chip. The width of his Door panel easily concealed the device from view while it plugged in with a barely audible click. The screen flickered so quickly it was nearly undetectable to the untrained optic. A classic little hacking trick that faked signals and then some! he contained his excitement behind a bored looking demeanor. He had never dared try this before on the nemesis. Deceiving Soundwave the spymaster in favor of his infamous racing jaunts; however tempting it had been would never have gone over well. But~ that wasn’t to say the current team of Autobus weren’t exactly adept at this type of cunning.

They wouldn’t detect this… he smiled as it loaded and disappeared into the endless weave of data. With this little program he would be able to directly control the security signals wirelessly! The hacking ware was already made to blend in with the normal source code and did nothing to interfere with the original data. Rather it simply manipulated its existing contents in a way that prevented undesired security data from being recorded at all by replacing it with loops or old content!

He could even set notifications to inform him where his teammates were at any given moment in relation to his proximity protocols. Though the latter would be a bit more difficult to multitask given the number of mechs on base currently not mentioning the drones. He wasn’t Soundwave after all, but given Ultra Magnus’s strict and highly predictable duty roster it would be easy to at least predict to a degree and play with the data accordingly. With a wireless uplink encrypted into his own comn system he would be able to manipulate the data from anywhere he could hold a signal! He could even mess with the visual feeds all he had to do was plan a little in advance. He smirked proudly at himself for his cunning. He knew stealing this tech from that one bounty hunter would be worth the risk some day! There would be no proof of when or who interwove this secondary program into the network.  Sure one could pick apart the encrypted code but that be no easy feat given who this code was originally designed by. Knockout inwardly mused.  In fact the tech had the mechs signature style and fingerprint all over it within the data. It was his work not Knockouts.

With no direct way to pin this back on him it would be highly unlikely the Autobots would have a leg to stand on. If they did find out and decrypt everything the data instantaneously erased its own contact code upon discovery. He would just have to be careful in how he used it and make careful calculations when best to leave the base undetected, AND when to return. He realized with a sinking feeling… The safest time would be during his off shifts… well there went his personal time… He felt tired just thinking about this…

Why did Starscream always have a way to make him feel so tired? He sighed. “because personal time is so important when you left a mech to blead out in the middle of nowhere” Knockout remembered the supplies he left would only last the seeker so long… He supposed he could rest some of the time at the secret facility he had left to Starscream when he had to. This could work, if he played his cards right… it had to work. Now if this would just hurry up and finish uploading already! Every second he sat waiting was a second he could be caught in the act. “Com on Com on…” he internally chanted.

A few minutes later the chip ejected itself from the access port and Knockouts data cable retracted the chip to tuck safely away under his armor compartment once again.

Well… only one way to find out if it actually worked…

with a test.

Knockout relaxed finally as he leaned back in his seat propping his foot onto the consul like he normally would before crossing them and making himself comfortable. One couldn’t be too hasty he still had to check his options after all. For a while He watched the normal boring evening events of the Autobot base. Drones chatting in the barracks and sharing energon rations. The guards outside the base carving the occasional Decepticon logos on the side of the base to be rebellious little punks. Knockout Laughed at that.  

Then he chanced the feed. He noticed with an irritated twitch of his optics that smokescreen was currently in the rec center buffing his finish in plain view of the cameras. He was doing it on purpose to taunt him… he knew it! Oh he would pay for this! Somehow…Eventually… However that gave him a thought.

Of course! Knockout sat forward and rubbed his chin guard a smirk forming on his porcelain face. “Now THAT is an idea!~” He cooed with a sly lilt in his tone. The perfect means to test out his little trick AND get his justified disserts! As the saying went He could have his Energon Cake and eat it too! Knockout checked the monitors and signal beacons once more as he devised his personal mission. “hummm Bulkheads in the Training bay… So is Wheeljack. Typical, they probably will need repairs tomorrow, oh goodie.” Knockout mumbled aloud to himself without fear of the security feed he had just set to loop above him.  Its protocols making it appear as if he was still leaning back in his chair unmoving as he was just moments before. “Signals indicate Arcee is in the recreational room talking to Ratchet and Bumblebee is in recharge. Meh… Ultra Magnus is in his office… Big surprise!” Knockout pretended to pinch the mechs helm between his pointer and thumb repeatedly before his optics caught the dreaded sight of that blue and yellow glint on another feed once more. “Now what is that kid doing… uhhhgg of course NOW Smokescreen is going to join the two Thick Helms in training! Doesn’t he know you are supposed to buff AFTER training NOT BEFORE! THAT DEFEATS THE PURPOSE YOU DOLT!” Knockout yelled at the tiny image of smokescreen and flicked the screen where the guard mech’s face resided.

Plink! He paused however when he noticed curiously that Wheeljack and Bulkhead were shaking their heads and pointing to Smokescreens arm, undoubtedly at the phase shifter.   “Hello… what is this? Only willing to play fair with buddy bruisers I see.” Knockout hummed intrigued as Smokescreen did the unthinkable and complied to his friends requests by taking off his “Signature weapon” and placing it within the nearby weapons locker in favor of sparing with Wheeljack.

“Well that’s interesting… never thought you took it off~ Primus knows you even bathed with it.” Knockout sneered but all the same storing that knowledge for a later time. He flicked the screen three more times for good measure, one for each Bolt Brained Bruiser.  

Plink, Plink, Plink!

With one last data sweep and every mech and fem accounted for on base Knockout finally activated his cryptic signal and began to input his subtle commands.

The security feeds leading directly to his personal quarters began to loop footage just as he had made the monitor rooms do. The footage being taken from the previous nights displayed nothing but empty halls all while his signal remained stationary in the monitor room. He shifted getting up from his seat Starscreams left over coolant stains dribbling down the back of the chair and mixing with the caked on dust falling off with each movement.

“Well, well it would seem there has been an unforeseen shift change for this evening Ultra Magnus” Knockout chuckled mockingly at the image of the unsuspecting Commander diligently logging reports from the confines of his office. Setting the monitor chair spinning casually Knockout sashayed to the exit. Before the door could close behind him he turned to giving one final mock salute, “See you Bright and SHINEY in the morning Sir~ HAH! HAHAHAH!” Oh he was going to savor this! His footfalls echoed unnoticed in the abandoned halls just as he had planned.

Operation OilBath was a go.